Hoffman. But she has got another love,
Dishonoured all this rich assembly,
Left the memorial of such infamy,
As cannot die while men have memory.
Mathias. How? pray you how? what hath the princess done?
Hoffman. She with a Grecian is but new-fled hence,
Belike some other love of hers before.
Our tilt and tournament is spoiled and crossed,
The fair we should defend, her faith hath lost.
140 Mathias. Fled with a Grecian? saw you them go, Prince Otho?
Hoffman. Ay, ay, I saw them go.
Mathias. And would not stay them?
Hoffman. My true servant knows
How at the sight of such inconstancy,
My gentle heart was smit with inward grief
And I sunk down with sorrow.
Mathias. ’Sdeath, what path? which way? that I may track her harlot-steps.
Fled now? gone now? I’ll go seek lodowick.
Hoffman. Nay, then you add an irreligious work,
150 To their lascivious act; follow yourself.
I and my man will bear you company.
Lorrique, as I think, thou named’st a chapel?
A hermit, some such thing; I have lost the form.
Lorrique. I heard her say she could not travel far;
He told her, they would rest the dead of night
Near to a chapel, by a hermitage.
Mathias. Where is that chapel? where’s that hermitage?
If you love honour, princely luningberg,
Let’s to that chapel, if you know the way,
160 That I may kill our shame ere it see day.
Hoffman. I’ll guide you to the chapel, aid your arm
In your revenge against that Grecian.
But for the lady, spare her: she is fair.
Mathias. I will do what I can; oh hell of life!
Who but a fool would strive to win a wife?
Shall we call lodowick?
Hoffman. Not, ’twould smite his soul in sunder, split his heart,
If he should hear of such adulterate wrong.
cover the fault or punish as you please:
170 Yet I would save her fain, for she deserves pity for beauty.
Mathias. Nothing, no for nothing.
She is as harlots: fair, like gilded tombs;
Goodly without, within all rottenness.
She’s like a painted fire upon a hill,
Set to allure the frost-nipped passengers,
And starve them after hope. She is indeed
As all such strumpets are, angel in show,
Devil in heart. come, come if you love me, go. Exit.
Hoffman. Follow lorrique; we are in the right way. Exit.
180 Lorrique. To hell I fear: tush, let all fear go by:
Who’ll shun a bad way with good company? Exit.
[Act 3
Scene 1
Enter lodowick and lucibella.
Lodowick. Are you not faint, divinest lucibel?
Lucibella. No, the clear moon strews silver in our path,
And with her moist eyes weeps a gentle dew
Upon the spotted pavement of the earth,
Which softens every flower whereon I tread.
Besides, all travel in your company
Seems but a walk made in some goodly bower,
Where love’s fair mother strips her paramour.
Lodowick. This is the chapel, and behold a bank
10 covered with sleeping flowers that miss the sun.
Shall we repose us till Mathias come?
Lucibella. The hermit will soon bring him: let’s sit down.
Nature, or art, hath taught these boughs to spread,
In manner of an arbour o’er the bank.
Lodowick. No, they bow down as veils to shadow you,
And the fresh flowers beguiled by the light
Of your celestial eyes, open their leaves,
And when they entertain the lord of day
You bring them comfort like the sun in May.
20 Lucibella. come, come, you men will flatter beyond mean.
Will you sit down and talk of the late wrongs
Intended by the duke of Prussia?
Lodowick. Fairest, forget it: leave till we are clear freed hence,
I will defy him, and cause all the knights
Assembled for our purposed tournament
To turn their keen swords ’gainst his caitiff head.
Lucibella. Prithee no more. I feel thy blood turn hot,
And wrath inflames thy spirit: let it cease.
Forgive this fault, convert this war to peace.
30 Lodowick. O breath-sweet touch: with what a heavenly charm
Do your soft fingers my war-thoughts disarm.
Prussia had reason to attempt my life,
Enchanted by the magic of these looks,
That cast a lustre on the blushing stars.
Pardon, chaste queen of beauty, make me proud
To rest my toiled head on your tender knee;
My chin with sleep is to my bosom bowed;
Fair, if you please a little rest with me.
Lucibella. No, I’ll be sentinel; I’ll watch for fear
40 Of venomous worms, or wolves, or wolvish thieves:
My hand shall fan your eyes, like the filmed wing
Of drowsy Morpheus; and my voice shall sing
In a low compass for a lucibel.
Sleep, sweet, perhaps I’ll sleep for company.
Lodowick. I thank you: I am drowsy, sing I pray;
Or sleep; do what you please, I am heavy, ay.
Good night to all our care. Oh, I am blest
By this soft pillow where my head doth rest.
He sleeps.
Lucibella. By my troth I am sleepy too: I cannot sing.
50 My heart is troubled with some heavy thing.
Rest on these violets, whilst I prepare,
In thy soft slumber to receive a share.
Blush not chaste moon to see a virgin lie
So near a prince, ’tis no immodesty.
For when the thoughts are pure, no time, no place,
Hath power to work fair chastity’s disgrace;
Lodowick, I clasp thee thus, so arm clip arm,
So sorrow fold them that wish true love harm.
Sleeps.
Enter lorrique, Mathias, clois Hoffman.
Mathias. Art sure tha’st found them?
60 Lorrique. look, are these they?
Mathias. Adulterer! strumpet!
[Stabs lodowick and lucibella.]
Lodowick. Oh!
Lucibella. Oh!
Hoffman. Inhuman deed to kill both.
Mathias. Both have abused our glory, both shall bleed.
Lucibella. How now! what have ye done? my lodowick bleeds.
Some savage beast hath fixed his ruthless fang
In my soft body: lodowick, I faint,
Dear, wake: my lodowick – alas what means
70 Your breast to be thus wet? Is’t blood or sweat?
Lodowick. Who troubles me?
Mathias. Brother!
Lodowick. Who is that? Mathias?
Mathias. Ay, accursed I!
Lodowick. Where’s the good hermit? thank him for his love,
Yet tell him, Ferdinand of Prussia
Hath a long arm: some murderer of his
Hath killed us sleeping.
Lucibella. Killed thee? no! I trust the careful destinies deny
80 So hard a fate: ’tis I alone am killed.
come lodowick, and close up my night-veiled eyes
That never may again behold the day.
Hoffman. What means Mathias?
[Mathias] offers to kill himself.
Mathias. Hold me not, Prince Otho.
I will revenge myself upon myself,
For parricide, for damned parricide.
I have killed my bro
ther sleeping in the arms
Of the divinest form that e’er held breath.
I have killed love’s queen; defaced with my foul hand
90 The goodliest frame that ever nature built;
And driven the graces from the mansion
Wherein they have continued from their birth.
She now being dead, she’ll dwell no more on earth.
Lodowick. What moved you to it, brother?
Mathias. Jealous rage, suspicion by Prince Otho,
That lucibel had fled with a base Greek.
Oh me accursed! I am born to shame.
Hoffman. But I am wretcheder, that from the love
Devoted to the house of Saxony,
100 Have thus begot this monster cruelty.
I lay within an arbour, whence I saw
The princess, and yourself in this disguise
Departing secretly my uncle’s court.
I judged you for a Greek as you appeared,
Told Prince Mathias of your secret flight,
And he led on by fury followed you,
Where thus deceived by night and your attire,
Hath robbed your heart of life, his own of joy.
Mathias. Forgive me brother, pardon, fairest maid,
110 And ere the icy hand of ashy death
Fold your fair bodies in this sable veil,
Discover why you put on this disguise.
Lodowick. To ’scape the lustful duke of Prussia,
Who purposed this night to murder me,
And ravish her whom death hath made his prey:
My lucibel, whose lights are masked with clouds
That never will be cleared.
Hoffman. My uncle? fie, who buzzed into your head
This damned lie?
120 Lodowick. It’s no lie.
Lucibella. No lie: ’tis true, ’tis true,
The reverent hermit Rodorick told it us.
Hoffman. The hermit is a villain damned in hell
Before the world’s creation, if he say’t
My princely uncle purposed such a thought.
Look to the princess, there’s life in her!
cheer up your heart, Prince lodowick, courage, man.
Your being of comfort may recover her;
Enter Rodorick, Saxony and Austria [unseen].
While I bring forth the hermit and disprove
130 This false assertion. Rodorick is a slave,
A vile and irreligious hypocrite:
No hermit but a devil if he dare
Affirm such falsehood of Duke Ferdinand.
Rodorick. Rodorick is not as you report him sir,
Nor did he e’er belie Duke Ferdinand.
Hoffman. No did? why then did you maliciously
Advise Prince lodowick and fair lucibel
To fly the Prussian court this dismal night?
Rodorick. Who I? I spake not with them.
140 Lodowick. Yes ye did.
Saxony. Where was it that he spake with you? tell us where?
Lodowick. At Dantzig, in the duke of Prussia’s court.
Saxony. Who heard him besides you?
Lodowick. The Princess lucibel.
Lucibella. As heaven shall help my fleeting soul, I did.
Austria. Why speaks my dukedom’s hope in hollow sounds?
Look up fair child, here’s Saxony and I,
Thy father: lucibella, look on me.
I am not angry that thou fledst away,
150 But come to grace thy nuptials: prithee speak.
Lucibella. Father, I thank you: lodowick, reach me thy hand.
How cold thou art! Death now assails our hearts,
Having triumphed over the outward parts.
Farewell awhile: we die but part, to meet
Where joys are certain, pleasures endless, sweet.
Father, this latest boon of yours I crave,
Let him and me lie in one bed and grace.
Moritur.
Austria. Oh me! Oh miserable wretched me!
Lodowick. Hover a little longer, blessed soul.
160 Glide not away too fast: mine now forsakes his earthly mansion, and on hope’s gilt wings will gladly mount with thine, where angels sing celestial ditties to the King of Kings. Brother, adieu: your rashness I forgive; pardon me, father, pardon Austria: your daughter is become a bride for death, the dismal even before her wedding day. Hermit, God pardon thee: thy double tongue hath caused this error: but in peace farewell. He that lifts us to heaven keep thee from hell.
Moritur.
Rodorick. Oh strange conjecture! what should move this prince
170 To charge me with such horrid cruelty?
Mathias. I’ll tell thee, hypocrite.
Saxony. Stay, Mathias, stay,
It is thy uncle Rodorick, and besides,
My honour and Duke Austria’s shall be ’gaged:
He never parted from our company in his own hermitage
Since day declined, and glimmering twilight ushered in the night.
Hoffman. Not from his hermitage?
Austria. No not he.
Hoffman. Is’t possible?
180 Austria. By heaven he did not.
Hoffman. Then there is villainy, practice and villainy.
Mathias hath been wronged and drawn to kill
His natural brother; with him to destroy
The rarest piece of nature’s workmanship,
No doubt by practice and base villainy.
The hermit not at court? strange: wondrous!
Saxony. Oh, for my son, and Austria’s worthy child!
Austria. Thou weep’st in scorn, and every tear of thine
covers a smile: Saxony, I defy
190 All truce, all league of love, guard thee proud duke.
Thy sons have made me childless! I’ll have thee
consort in death with my wronged girl and me.
[Austria and Saxony fight. Hoffman, unseen, stabs Austria.]
Hoffman. Help, Prince Mathias, hermit: oh, the heavens!
The Austrian duke sinks down upon the earth.
Austria. Proud John of Saxony: hast thou no wound?
Saxony. Not any, Austria: neither touched I thee.
Austria. Somebody touched me home: vain world, farewell,
Dying I fall on my dead lucibel. [Dies.]
Saxony. Sir, what are you that take on you to part?
200 It’s by your weapon that the duke is fallen.
Hoffman. If I thought so, I’d fall upon the point,
But I am innocent of such an ill:
Kill my good kinsman, duke of Austria?
Then were Prince Otho of luningberg set down
In sad despair’s black book to rave and die:
But I am free from such impiety.
Saxony. Are you Prince Otho of luningberg?
Rodorick. He is, and heir apparent to Duke Ferdinand.
Saxony. Maybe the moon deceives me, and my grief
210 As well in the distinguishing of sounds
As sight: I have heard of young luningberg,
And seen him too at Hoffman’s overthrow.
He looked not like you, neither spake like you.
Mathias. Father, ’tis he: lorrique, his man, attends him,
That fellow which is all composed of mirth.
Of mirth? of death. Why should I think of mirth
After so foul a murder? come, lend hands
To give this princely body funeral rites,
That I may sacrifice this hand and heart
220 For my peace-offerings on their sepulchres.
Saxony. Nay boy, thou shall not leave old Saxony
childless for all this sorrow: prince, and if Otho,
Help in my son with noble Austria,
Lodowick shall be my burden: brother, yours
The lovely but the luckless lucibel.
So tread a heavy measure. Now let’s go
To inter the dead, our hearts being dead with woe.<
br />
Exeunt carrying the dead bodies (Rodorick last with lucibel).
Rodorick. There’s life in lucibel, for I feel
A breath, more odoriferous than balm
230 Thirl through the coral portals of her lips.
Apparent signs of life: her pulses beat;
Oh if I could but yet recover her,
’Twould satisfy the state of Austria,
That else would be disturbed for want of heirs.
Heaven be propitious: guide my artless hand
To preserve fainting life in this clear form.
Grant this thou soul of all divinity.
And I will strive whatever mortal may
Enter Hoffman and Saxony.
To serve thee on my knees both night and day.
240 Tarry, Prince Otho, and see their bodies balmed.
Hoffman. I pray you think me not in passion dull.
I must withdraw, and weep: my heart is full.
Oh reverent man, thou bear’st the richest fruit
That ever fell in the unripened spring.
Go lay her soft, she had ill fate to fall:
But rich or fair or strong, death swallows all.
[Exit Rodorick with lucibella, Saxony.]
Hola! lorrique, leave our horse; draw near.
Enter lorrique.
Help me to sing a hymn unto the fates
composed of laughing interjections.
250 Lorrique. Why, my good lord? what accidents
Have chanced that tickle so your spleen?
Hoffman. Oh my dear self, thou trusty treasurer of my revenge:
Kneel down, and at my bidding kiss the earth,
And on her cold ear whisper this strict charge.
That she provide the best of her perfumes,
The fat of lambs raped from the bleating ewes,
The sweetest-smelling wood she can devise;
For I must offer up a sacrifice
To blest occasion that hath seconded
260 With opportune means my desire of wreak.
Lorrique. Now I have kissed the earth, let me partake
In your great joy, that seems to exceed.
Are lodowick and the princess murdered?
Hoffman. ’Tis done. Go, hie thee to Prince Ferdinand.
Tell him how misadventure and mistrust
Hath killed Prince lodowick and bright lucibel,
By Prince Mathias’ hand; add to that chance
Another unexpected accident.
Say that the dukes of Austria and Saxony,
270 Being by the hermit Rodorick entertained,
And hearing outcries in the dead of night,
came and beheld the tragic spectacle
Which sight did so enrage the Austrian duke,
That he assailed the Saxon, but fell slain
On his pale daughter, new-deflowered by death.
Lorrique. Is Austria then slain by Saxony?
Five Revenge Tragedies: The Spanish Tragedy, Hamlet, Antonio's Revenge, The Tragedy of Hoffman, The Revenger's Tragedy (Penguin Classics) Page 27