daughter's untoward death, determines that his marriage with Maria (who affects to acquiesce in the arrangement) shall take place without delay. A scheme of vengeance is contrived between Antonio, Pandulfo (Feliche's father) and Alberto (Feliche's friend). The conspirators attire themselves as maskers and appear at a banquet given by Piero on the eve of his marriage. On the appearance of the maskers Piero enquires for his son, Julio, and sends an attendant to fetch him to see the dances. After dancing a measure the maskers request Piero to have the hall cleared while they sit unmasked at the banquet. Thereupon the guests and retainers withdraw, but Piero at the maskers' request remains. He takes a seat at the banquet; the conspirators, unmasking themselves, spring forward and bind him with cords to the chair; insult over him, cut out his tongue, produce in a dish the limbs of his murdered son, and finally hack him to death with their swords. The tyrant's death is welcomed with universal joy. The conspirators are hailed as saviours of their country, and are offered high offices of state; but prefer to spend the rest of their lives in the seclusion of a religious house. THE PROLOGUE. The rawish dank of clumsy[193] winter ramps The fluent summer's vein; and drizzling sleet Chilleth the wan bleak cheek of the numb'd earth, Whilst snarling gusts nibble the juiceless leaves From the nak'd shudd'ring branch; and pills[194] the skin From off the soft and delicate aspects. O now, methinks, a sullen tragic scene Would suit the time with pleasing congruence. May we be happy in our weak devoir, And all part pleasèd in most wish'd content! 10 But sweat of Hercules can ne'er beget So blest an issue. Therefore, we proclaim, If any spirit breathes within this round, Uncapable of weighty passion, (As from his birth being huggèd in the arms, And nuzzled 'twixt the breasts of happiness) Who winks, and shuts his apprehension up From common sense of what men were and are, Who would not know what men must be--let such Hurry amain from our black-visaged shows: 20 We shall affright their eyes. But if a breast Nail'd to the earth with grief; if any heart Pierc'd through with anguish pant within this ring; If there be any blood whose heat is choked And stifled with true sense of misery; If ought of these strains fill this consort up-- Th' arrive most welcome. O that our power Could lackey or keep wing with our desires, That with unusèd paize[195] of style and sense, We might weigh massy in judicious scale. 30 Yet here's the prop that doth support our hopes: When our scenes falter, or invention halts, Your favour will give crutches to our faults.[196] [_Exit._ [193] Marston's use of the words _clumsy_ and _ramp_ is ridiculed in _The Poetaster_ (v. 1). [194] Peels. [195] An old form of _poise_.