The Corso.
Enter Julio and his Page.
Jul. How, the Lady whom I followed from St. Peter’s Church, a Curtezan?
Pag. A Curtezan, my Lord, fair as the Morning, and as young.
Jul. I know she’s fair and young; but is she to be had, Boy?
Pag. My Lord, she is — her Footman told me she was a Zittella.
Jul. How, a Zittella! — a Virgin, ’tis impossible.
Pag. I cannot swear it, Sir, but so he told me; he said she had a World of Lovers: Her name is Silvianetta, Sir, and her Lodgings —
Jul. I know’t, are on the Corso; a Curtezan? and a Zittella too? a pretty contradiction; but I’ll bate her the last, so I might enjoy her as the first: whate’er the price be, I’m resolv’d upon the adventure; and will this minute prepare my self. [Going off, Enter Mor. and Octa.] — hah, does the Light deceive me, or is that indeed my Uncle, in earnest conference with a Cavalier?— ’tis he — I’ll step aside till he’s past, lest he hinders this Night’s diversion. [Goes aside.
Mor. I say ’twas rashly done, to fight him unexamin’d.
Oct. I need not ask; my Reason has inform’d me, and I’m convinc’d, where-e’er he has concealed her, that she is fled with Fillamour.
Jul. Who is’t they speak of?
Mor. Well, well, sure my Ancestors committed some horrid crime against
Nature, that she sent this Pest of Woman-kind into our Family, — two
Nieces for my share; — by Heaven, a Proportion sufficient to undo six
Generations.
Jul. Hah? two Nieces, what of them? [Aside.
Mor. I am like to give a blessed account of ‘em to their Brother Julio my Nephew, at his return; there’s a new plague now: — but my comfort is, I shall be mad, and there’s an end on’t. [Weeps.
Jul. My Curiosity must be satisfied, — have patience, Noble Sir. —
Mor. Patience is a flatterer, Sir, — and an Ass, Sir; and I’ll have none on’t — hah, what art thou?
Jul. Has five or six Years made ye lose the remembrance of your Nephew — Julio?
Mor. Julio! I wou’d I had met thee going to thy Grave. [Weeps.
Jul. Why so, Sir?
Mor. Your Sisters, Sir, your Sisters are both gone. — [Weeps.
Jul. How gone, Sir?
Mor. Run away, Sir, flown, Sir.
Jul. Heavens! which way?
Mor. Nay, who can tell the ways of fickle Women — in short, Sir, your Sister Marcella was to have been married to this noble Gentleman, — nay, was contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel; but no sooner was his back turn’d, but in a pernicious Moon-light Night she shews me a fair pair of heels, with the young Baggage, your other Sister Cornelia, who was just come from the Monastery where I bred her, to see her Sister married.
Jul. A curse upon the Sex! why must Man’s Honour Depend upon their Frailty? — Come — give me but any light which way they went, And I will trace ‘em with that careful Vengeance —
Oct. Spoke like a Man, that understands his Honour; And I can guess how we may find the Fugitives.
Jul. Oh, name it quickly, Sir!
Oct. There was a young Cavalier — some time at Viterbo, Who I confess had Charms, Heaven has denied to me, That Trifle, Beauty, which was made to please Vain foolish Woman, which the brave and wise Want leisure to design. —
Jul. And what of him?
Oct. This fine gay thing came in your Sister’s way, And made that Conquest Nature meant such Fools for: And, Sir, she’s fled with him.
Jul. Oh, show me the Man, the daring hardy Villain, Bring me but in the view of my Revenge, — and if I fail to take it, Brand me with everlasting Infamy.
Oct. That we must leave to Fortune, and our Industry. — Come, Sir, let’s walk and think best what to do, —
[Going down the Scene, Enter Fil. and Gal.
Fil. Is not that Julio? Boy, run and call him back. [Ex. Boy, re-enters with Jul.
Jul. Oh, Fillamour, I have heard such killing news Since last I left thee —
Fil. What, prithee?
Jul. I had a Sister, Friend — dear as my Life,
And bred with all the Virtues of her Sex;
No Vestals at the Holy Fire employ’d themselves
In innocenter business than this Virgin;
Till Love, the fatal Fever of her Heart,
Betray’d her harmless Hours;
And just upon the point of being married,
The Thief stole in, and rob’d us of this Treasure:
She’as left her Husband, Parents, and her Honour,
And’s fled with the base Ruiner of her Virtue.
Fil. And lives the Villain durst affront ye thus?
Jul. He does.
Gal. Where, in what distant World?
Jul. I know not.
Fil. What is he call’d?
Jul. I know not neither, — some God direct me to the Ravisher! And if he scape my Rage, May Cowards point me out for one of their tame Herd.
Fil. In all your Quarrels I must join my Sword.
Gal. And if you want, — here’s another, Sir, that, though it be not often drawn in anger, nor cares to be, shall not be idle in good company.
Jul. I thank you both; and if I have occasion, will borrow their assistance; but I must leave you for a minute, I’ll wait on you anon. — [They all three walk as down the street, talking.
Enter Laura, with Silvio and her Equipage.
Lau. Beyond my wish, I’m got into his Friendship:
But Oh, how distant Friendship is from Love,
That’s all bestow’d on the fair Prostitute!
— Ah, Silvio, when he took me in his Arms,
Pressing my willing Bosom to his Breast,
Kissing my Cheek, calling me lovely Youth,
And wond’ring how such Beauty, and such Bravery,
Met in a Man so young! Ah, then, my Boy,
Then in that happy minute,
How near was I to telling all my Soul!
My Blushes and my Sighs were all prepar’d;
My Eyes cast down, my trembling Lips just parting. —
But still as I was ready to begin,
He cries out Silvianetta!
And to prevent mine, tells me all his Love.
— But see — he’s here. —
[Fill. and Gal. coming up the Scene.
Gal. Come, lay by all sullen Unresolves: for now the hour of the Berjere approaches, Night that was made for Lovers. — Hah! my Dear Sans-Coeur? my Life! my Soul! my Joy! Thou art of my opinion!
Lau. I’m sure I am, whate’er it be.
Gal. Why, my Friend here, and I, have sent and paid our Fine for a small Tenement of Pleasure, and I’m for taking present possession; — but hold — if you shou’d be a Rival after all. —
Lau. Not in your Silvianetta! my Love has a nice Appetite,
And must be fed with high uncommon Delicates.
I have a Mistress, Sir, of Quality;
Fair, as Imagination paints young Angels;
Wanton and gay, as was the first Corinna,
That charm’d our best of Poets;
Young as the Spring, and chearful as the Birds
That welcome in the Day;
Witty, as Fancy makes the Revelling Gods,
And equally as bounteous when she blesses.
Gal. Ah, for a fine young Whore with all these Charms! but that same Quality allays the Joy: there’s such a damn’d ado with the Obligation, that half the Pleasure’s lost in Ceremony. — Here for a thousand Crowns I reign alone, Revel all day in Love without controul. — But come to our business, I have given order for Musick, Dark Lanthorns, and Pistols.
[This while Fil., stands studying.
Fil. Death, if it shou’d not be Marcella now! [Pausing aside.
Gal. Prithee no more considering, — resolve, and let’s about it.
Fil. I wou’d not tempt my Heart again! for Love,
What e’er it may be in another’s Breast,
In mine ‘twill turn to a religious Fire;
And so to burn for her, a common Mistress,
Wou’d be an Infamy below her Practice.
Gal. Oh, if that be all, doubt not, Harry, but an Hour’s Conversation with Euphemia will convert it to as leud a flame, as a Man wou’d wish.
Lau. What a coil’s here about a Curtezan! what ado to persuade a Man to a Blessing all Rome is languishing for in vain! — Come, Sir, we must deal with him, as Physicians do with peevish Children, force him to take what will cure him.
Fil. And like those damn’d Physicians, kill me for want of method: no, I know my own Distemper best, and your Applications will make me mad.
Gal. Pox on’t, that one cannot love a Woman like a Man, but one must love like an Ass.
Lau. S’heart, I’ll be bound to lie with all the Women in Rome, with less ado than you are brought to one.
Gal. Hear ye that, Henry? s’death, art not asham’d to be instructed by one so young! — But see — the Star there appears, — the Star that conducts thee to the Shore of Bliss, — She comes! let’s feel thy [Marcella and Cornelia above with Philippa.] Heart, she comes! So breaks the Day on the glad Eastern Hills, Or the bright God of Rays from Thetis’ Lap: A Rapture, now, dear Lad, and then fall to; for thou art old Dog at a long Grace.
Fil. Now I’m mere Man again, with all his Frailties — [Aside. — Bright lovely Creature! —
Gal. Damn it, how like my Lady’s eldest Son was that?
Fil. May I hope my Sacrifice may be accepted by you; by Heaven, it must be she! still she appears more like. — [Aside.
Mar. I’ve only time to tell you Night approaches, And then I will expect you.
Enter Crapine, gazes on the Ladies.
Crap. ’Tis she, Donna Marcella, on my life, with the young wild Cornelia! — hah — yonder’s the English Cavalier too; nay then, by this Hand I’ll be paid for all my fruitless jaunts, for this good news — stay, let me mark the House. —
Mar. Now to my Disguise. [Ex. Marcella.
Gal. And have you no kind message to send to my Heart? cannot this good Example instruct you how to make me happy?
Cor. Faith, Stranger, I must consider first; she’s skilful in the Merchandize of Hearts, and has dealt in Love with so good success hitherto, she may lose one Venture, and never miss it in her Stock: but this is my first, and shou’d it prove to be a bad bargain, I were undone for ever.
Gal. I dare secure the Goods sound —
Cor. And I believe will not lie long upon my hands.
Gal. Faith, that’s according as you’ll dispose on’t, Madam — for let me tell you — gad, a good handsome proper Fellow is as staple a Commodity as any’s in the Nation; — but I wou’d be reserv’d for your own use. Faith, take a Sample to night, and as you like it, the whole Piece; and that’s fair and honest dealing I think, or the Devil’s in’t.
Cor. Ah, Stranger, — you have been so over-liberal for those same Samples of yours, that I doubt they have spoiled the sale of the rest; Cou’d you not afford, think ye, to throw in a little Love and Constancy, to inch out that want of Honesty of yours?
Gal. Love! oh, in abundance!
By those dear Eyes, by that soft smiling Mouth,
By every secret Grace thou hast about thee,
I love thee with a vigorous, eager Passion;
— Be kind, dear Silvianetta — prithee do,
Say you believe, and make me blest to Night.
Crap. Silvianetta! so, that’s the Name she has rifl’d for Cornelia, I perceive. [Aside.
Cor. If I shou’d be so kind-hearted, what good use wou’d you make of so obliging an Opportunity?
Gal. That which the happy Night was first ordain’d for.
Cor. Well, Signior, ’tis coming on, and then I’ll try what Courage the Darkness will inspire me with: — till then — farewell. —
Gal. Till then a thousand times adieu. — [Blowing up kisses to her.
Phil. Ah, Madam, we’re undone, — yonder’s Crapine, your Uncle’s Valet.
Cor. Now a Curse on him; shall we not have one night with our Cavaliers? — let’s retire, and continue to out-wit him, or never more pretend to’t. Adieu, Signior Cavalier — remember Night. —
Gal. Or may I lose my Sense to all Eternity.
[Kisses his fingers and bows, she returns it for a while.
Exit. Crap.
Lau. Gods, that all this that looks at least like Love,
Shou’d be dispens’d to one insensible!
Whilst every syllable of that dear Value,
Whisper’d to me, wou’d make my Soul all Extasy. [Aside.
— Oh, spare that Treasure for a grateful Purchase;
And buy that common Ware with trading Gold,
Love is too rich a Price! — I shall betray my self. — [Aside.
Gal. Away, that’s an heretical Opinion, and which
This certain Reason must convince thee of;
That Love is Love, wherever Beauty is,
Nor can the Name of Whore make Beauty less.
Enter Marcella like a Man, with a Cloke about her.
Mar. Signior, is your Name Fillamour?
Fil. It is, what wou’d you, Sir? —
Mar. I have a Letter for you — from Viterbo, and your Marcella, Sir. [Gives it him.
Fil. Hah — Viterbo! and Marcella! It shocks me like the Ghost of some forsaken Mistress, That met me in the way to Happiness, With some new long’d-for Beauty! [Opens it, reads.
Mar. Now I shall try thy Virtue, and my Fate. — [Aside.
Fil. What is’t that checks the Joy, that shou’d surprize me at the receipt of this.
Gal. How now! what’s the cold fit coming on? [Pauses.
Fil. I have no power to go — where this — invites me —
By which I prove ’tis no encrease of Flame that warms my Heart,
But a new Fire just kindled from those Eyes —
Whose Rays I find more piercing than Marcella’s.
Gal. — Ay, Gad, a thousand times — prithee, what’s the matter?
Mar. Oh, this false-souled Man — wou’d I had leisure To be reveng’d for this Inconstancy! [Aside.
Fil. — But still she wants that Virtue I admire.
Gal. Virtue! ‘S’death thou art always fumbling upon that dull string that makes no Musick. — What Letter’s that? [Reads.] If the first Confession I ever made of Love be grateful to you, come arm’d to night with a Friend or two; and behind the Garden of the Fountains, you will receive — hah, Marcella! — Oh, damn it, from your honest Woman! — Well, I see the Devil’s never so busy with a Man, as when he has resolv’d upon any Goodness! S’death, what a rub’s here in a fair cast, — how is’t man? Alegremente! bear up, defy him and all his Works.
Fil. But I have sworn, sworn that I lov’d Marcella;
And Honour, Friend, obliges me to go,
Take her away and marry her.
— And I conjure thee to assist me too.
Gal. What, to night, this might, that I have given to Silvianetta! and you have promis’d to the fair — Euphemia!
Lau. If he shou’d go, he ruins my design, [Aside. — Nay, if your word, Sir — be already past —
Fil. ’Tis true, I gave my promise to Euphemia; but that, to Women of her Trade, is easily absolv’d.
Gal. Men keep not Oaths for the sakes of the wise Magistrates to whom they are made, but their own Honour, Harry. — And is’t not much a greater crime to rob a gallant, hospitable Man of his Niece, who has treated you with Confidence and Friendship, than to keep touch with a well-meaning Whore, my conscientious Friend?
Lau. Infinite degrees, Sir.
Gal. Besides, thou’st an hour or two good, between this and the time requir’d to meet Marcella.
Lau. Which an industrious Lover would manage to the best advantage.
Gal. That were not given over to Virtue and Constancy; two the best excuses I know for Idleness.
Fil. — Yes — I may see this Woman.
Gal. Why, Gad-a-mercy, Lad.
Fil. — And break my Chains, if possible.
Gal. Thou wilt give a good essay to that I’ll warrant thee, Before she part with thee; come let’s about it.
[They are going out on either side of Fil. persuading him.
Mar. He’s gone, the Curtezan has got the day, [Aside. Vice has the start of Virtue every way; And for one Blessing honest Wives obtain, The happier Mistress does a thousand gain. I’ll home — and practise all their Art to prove, That nothing is so cheaply gain’d as Love. [Exit.
Gal. Stay, what Farce is this — prithee let’s see a little. [Offering to go.
[Enter Sir Signal, Mr. Tickletext, with his Cloke ty’d about him, a great Inkhorn ty’d at his Girdle and a great folio under his Arm, Petro drest like an Antiquary.
— How now, Mr. Tickletext, what, drest as if you were going a Pilgrimage to Jerusalem?
Tick. I make no such profane Journeys, Sir.
Gal. But where have you been, Mr. Tickletext?
Sir Sig. Why, Sir, this most Reverend and Renowned Antiquary has been showing us Monumental Rarities and Antiquities.
Gal. ’Tis Petro, that Rogue.
Fil. But what Folio have you gotten there, Sir, Knox, or Cartwright?
Pet. Nay, if he be got into that heap of Nonsense, I’ll steal off and undress. [Aside.] [Ex. Petro.
[Tick, opening the Book.
Tick. A small Volume, Sir, into which I transcribe the most memorable and remarkable Transactions of the Day.
Lau. That doubtless must be worth seeing.
Fil. [Reads.] — April the twentieth, arose a very great Storm of Wind, Thunder, Lightning and Rain, — which was a shrewd sign of foul Weather. The 22th 9 of our 12 Chickens getting loose, flew overboard, the other three miraculously escaping, by being eaten by me that Morning for Breakfast.
Sir Sig. Harkye, Galliard — thou art my Friend, and ’tis not like a Man of Honour to conceal any thing from one’s Friend, — know then I am The most fortunate Rascal that ever broke bread, — I am this night to visit, Sirrah, — the finest, the most delicious young Harlot, Mum — under the Rose — in all Rome, of Barberacho’s acquaintance.
Gal. — Hah — my Woman, on my Life! and will she be kind?
Sir Sig. Kind! hang Kindness, Man, I’m resolv’d upon Conquest by Parly or by Force.
Gal. Spoke like a Roman of the first Race, when noble Rapes, not whining Courtship, did the Lover’s business.
Sir Sig. ‘Sha, Rapes, Man! I mean by force of Money, pure dint of Gold, faith and troth: for I have given 500 Crowns entrance already, & Par Dins Bacchus, ’tis tropo Caro — tropo Caro, Mr. Galliard.
Gal. And what’s this high-priz’d Lady’s Name, Sir?
Sir Sig. La Silvianetta, — and lodges on the Corso, not far from St.
James’s of the Incurables — very well situated in case of disaster — hah.
Gal. Very well, — and did not your wise Worship know this Silvianetta was my Mistress?
Sir Sig. How! his Mistress! what a damn’d Noddy was I to name her!
[Aside.
Gal. D’ye hear, fool! renounce me this Woman instantly, or I’ll first discover it to your Governour, and then cut your throat, Sir.
Sir Sig. Oh, Doux Ment — dear Galliard — Renounce her, — Corpo de mi, that I will soul and body, if she belong to thee, Man. —
Gal. No more; look to’t — look you forget her Name — or but to think of her — farewel — [Nods at him.
Sir Sig. Farewell, quoth ye— ’tis well I had the Art of dissembling after all, here had been a sweet broil upon the Coast else. —
Fil. Very well, I’ll trouble my self to read no more, since I know you’l be so kind to the world to make it publick.
Tick. At my return, Sir, for the good of the Nation, I will print it, and I think it will deserve it.
Lau. This is a precious Rogue, to make a Tutor of.
Fil. Yet these Mooncalfs dare pretend to the breeding of our Youth; and the time will come, I fear, when none shall be reputed to travel like a Man of Quality, who has not the advantage of being impos’d upon by one of these pedantick Novices, who instructs the young Heir in what himself is most profoundly ignorant of.
Gal. Come, ’tis dark, and time for our Design, — your Servant, Signiors. [Exeunt Fil. and Gal.
Lau. I’ll home, and watch the kind deceiving Minute, that may conduct him by mistake to me. [Exit.
Enter Petro, like Barberacho, just as Tick.
and Sir Signal are going out.
Sir Sig. Oh, Barberacho, we are undone! Oh, the Diavillo take that
Master you sent me?
Pet. Master, what Master?
Sir Sig. Why, Signior Morigoroso!
Pet. Mor — oso — what shou’d he be?
Sir Sig. A Civility-Master he should have been, to have taught us good Manners; — but the Cornuto cheated us most damnably, and by a willing mistake taught us nothing in the world but Wit.
Pet. Oh, abominable Knavery! why, what a kind of Man was he?
Sir Sig. — Why — much such another as your self.
Tick. Higher, Signior, higher.
Sir Sig. Ay, somewhat higher — but just of his pitch.
Pet. Well, Sir, and what of this Man?
Sir Sig. Only pickt our Pockets, that’s all.
Tick. Yes, and cozen’d us of our Rings.
Sir Sig. Ay, and gave us Cackamarda Orangata for Snuff.
Tick. And his Blessing to boot when he had done.
Sir Sig. A vengeance on’t, I feel it still.
Pet. Why, this ’tis to do things of your own head; for I sent no such Signior Moroso — but I’ll see what I can do to retrieve ‘em — I am now a little in haste, farewell. — [Offers to go, Tick. goes out by him and jogs him.
Tick. Remember to meet me — farewel, Barberacho. [Goes out, Sir Sig. pulls him.
Sir Sig. Barberacho — is the Lady ready?
Pet. Is your Money ready?
Sir Sig. Why, now, though I am threatned, and kill’d, and beaten, and kick’d about this Intrigue, I must advance. [Aside.] — But dost think there’s no danger?
Pet. What, in a delicate young amorous Lady, Signior?
Sir Sig. No, no, mum, I don’t much fear the Lady; but this same mad fellow Galliard, I hear, has a kind of a hankering after her — Now dare not I tell him what a discovery I have made. [Aside.
Pet. Let me alone to secure you, meet me in the Piazzo d’Hispagnia, as soon as you can get yourself in order; where the two Fools shall meet, and prevent either’s coming. [Aside.
Sir Sig. Enough, — here’s a Bill for 500 Crowns more upon my Merchant, you know him by a good token, I lost the last Sum you receiv’d for me, a pox of that Handsel; away, here’s company. [Ex. Pet. Enter Octavio and Crapine.] Now will I disguise my self, according to the mode of the Roman Inamoratos; and deliver my self upon the place appointed. [Ex. Sir Sig.
Oct. On the Corso didst thou see ‘em?
Crap. On the Corso, my Lord, in discourse with three Cavaliers, one of which has given me many a Pistole, to let him into the Garden a-nights at Viterbo, to talk with Donna Marcella from her Chamber-Window, I think I shou’d remember him.
Oct. Oh, that Thought fires me with Anger fit for my Revenge, [Aside. And they are to serenade ‘em, thou say’st?
Crap. I did, my Lord: and if you can have patience till they come, you will find your Rival in this very place, if he keep his word.
Oct. I do believe thee, and have prepared my Bravoes to attack him: if I can act but my Revenge to night, how shall I worship Fortune? Keep out of sight, and when I give the word, be ready all. I hear some coming, let’s walk off a little. —
Enter Marcella in Man’s Clothes, and Philippa as a Woman with a Lanthorn. Oct. and Crap. go off the other way.
Mar. Thou canst never convince me, but if Crapine saw us, and gaz’d so long upon us, he must know us too; and then what hinders but by a diligent watch about the House, they will surprize us, e’er we have secured our selves from ‘em?
Phil. And how will this exposing your self to danger prevent ‘em?
Mar. My design now is, to prevent Fillamour’s coming into danger, by hindring his approach to this House: I wou’d preserve the kind Ingrate with any hazard of my own; and ’tis better to die than fall into the hands of Octavio. I’m desperate with that thought, and fear no danger: however, be you ready at the door, and when I ring admit me — ha — who comes here?
Enter Tickletext with a Periwig and Crevat of Sir Signal’s: A Sword by his side, and a dark Lanthorn; she opens hers, looks on him, and goes out.
Tick. A Man! now am I, though an old Sinner, as timorous as a young Thief: ’tis a great inconvenience in these Popish Countrys, that a man cannot have liberty to steal to a Wench without danger; not that I need fear who sees me except Galliard, who suspecting my business, will go near to think I am wickedly inclin’d. Sir Signal I have left hard at his Study, and Sir Henry is no nocturnal Inamorato, unless like me he dissemble it. — Well, certo, ’tis a wonderful pleasure to deceive the World: And as a learned Man well observ’d, that the Sin of Wenching lay in the Habit only; I having laid that aside, Timothy Tickletext, principal Holder-forth of the Covent-Garden Conventicle, Chaplain of Buffoon-Hall in the County of Kent, is free to recreate himself.
Enter Gal. with a dark Lanthorn.
Gal. Where the Devil is this Fillamour? and the Mufick? which way cou’d he go to lose me thus? [Looks towards the Door. — He is not yet come —
Tick. Not yet come — that must be Barberacho! — Where are ye, honest Barberacho, where are ye? [Groping towards Gal.
Gal. Hah! Barberacho? that Name I am sure is us’d by none but Sir Signal and his Coxcomb Tutor; it must be one of those — Where are ye, Signior, where are ye? [Goes towards him, and opens the Lanthorn — and shuts it strait.
— Oh, ’tis the Knight, — are you there, Signior?
Tick. Oh, art thou come, honest Rascal — conduct me quickly, conduct me to the beautiful and fair Silvianetta. [Gives him his Hand.
Gal. Yes, when your Dogship’s damn’d. Silvianetta! Sdeath, is she a Whore for Fools? [Draws.
Tick. Hah, Mr. Galliard, as the Devil would have it; — I’m undone if he sees me. [He retires hastily, Gal. gropes for him.
Gal. Where are you, Fop? Buffoon! Knight!
[Tickletext retiring hastily runs against Octavio, who is just entering, almost beats him down; Oct. strikes him a good blow, beats him back and draws: Tick, gets close up in a corner of the Stage; Oct. gropes for him, as Gal. does, and both meet and fight with each other.
— What, dare you draw, — you have the impudence to be valiant then in the dark, [they pass.] I wou’d not kill the Rogue,— ‘Sdeath, you can fight then, when there’s a Woman in the case!
Oct. I hope ’tis Fillarnour; [Aside.] You’ll find I can, and possibly may spoil your making Love to night.
Gal. Egad, Sweet-heart, and that may be, one civil Thrust will do’t; — and ‘twere a damn’d rude thing to disappoint so fine a Woman, — therefore I’ll withdraw whilst I’m well. [He slips out.
Enter Sir Signal, with a Masquerading Coat over his Clothes, without a Wig or Crevat, with a dark Lanthorn.
Sir Sig. Well, I have most neatly escap’d my Tutor; and in this disguise defy the Devil to claim his own. — Ah, Caspeto de Deavilo; — What’s that?
[Advancing softly, and groping with his hands, meets the point of Oct. Sword, as he is groping for Gal.
Oct. Traitor, darest thou not stand my Sword?
Sir Sig. Hah! Swords! no, Signior — scusa mea, Signioir, —
[Hops to the door: And feeling for his way with his out-stretcht Arms, runs his Lanthorn in Julio’s face, who is just entring; finds he’s oppos’d with a good push backward, and slips aside into a corner over-against Tickletext; Julio meets Octavio, and fights him; Oct. falls, Julio opens his Lanthorn, and sees his mistake.
Jut. Is it you, Sir?
Oct. Julio! From what Mistake grew all this Violence?
Jul. That I shou’d ask of you, who meet you arm’d against me.
Oct. I find the Night has equally deceiv’d us; and you are fitly come to share with me the hopes of dear Revenge. [Gropes for his Lanthorn, which is dropt.
Jul. I’d rather have pursu’d my kinder Passion, Love, and Desire, that brought me forth to night.
Oct. I’ve learnt where my false Rival is to be this Evening; And if you’ll join your Sword, you’ll find it well employ’d.
Jul. Lead on, I’m as impatient of Revenge as you. —
Oct. Come this way then, you’ll find more Aids to serve us.
[Go out.
Tick. — So! Thanks be prais’d, all’s still again, this Fright were enough to mortify any Lover of less magnanimity than my self. — Well, of all Sins, this itch of Whoring is the most hardy, — the most impudent in Repulses, the most vigilant in watching, most patient in waiting, most frequent in Dangers; in all Disasters but Disappointment, a Philosopher; yet if Barberacho come not quickly, my Philosophy will be put to’t, certo.
[This while Sir Signal is venturing from his Post, listening, and slowly advancing towards the middle of the Stage.
Sir Sig. The Coast is once more clear, and I may venture my Carcase forth again, — though such a Salutation as the last, wou’d make me very unfit for the matter in hand. — The Battoon I cou’d bear with the Fortitude and Courage of a Hero: But these dangerous Sharps I never lov’d. What different Rencounters have I met withal to night, Corpo de me? A Man may more safely pass the Gulf of Lyons, than convoy himself into a Baudy-House in Rome; but I hope all’s past, and I will say with Alexander, — Vivat Esperance en despetto del Fatto. [Advances a little.
Tick. Sure I heard a noise; — No, ’twas only my surmise.
[They both advance softly, meeting just in the middle of the Stage, and coming close up to each other; both cautiously start back, and stand a tipto in the posture of Fear, then gently feeling for each other, (after listening and hearing no Noise) draw back their Hands at touching each other’s; and shrinking up their Shoulders, make grimaces of more Fear.
Tick. Que Equesto.
Sir Sig. Hah, a Man’s Voice! — I’ll try if I can fright him hence.
[Aside.
Una Malladette Spiritto Incarnate.
[In a horrible tone.
Tick. Hah, Spiritto Incarnate! that Devil’s Voice I shou’d know.
[Aside.
Sir Sig. See, Signior! Una Spiritto, which is to say, un Spiritalo,
Immortallo, Incorporallo, Inanimate, Immaterialle, Philosophicale,
Invisible — Unintelligible — Diavillo.
[In the same tone.
Tick. Ay, ay, ’tis my hopeful Pupil, upon the same design with me, my life on’t, — cunning young Whore-master; — I’ll cool your Courage — good Signior Diavillo; if you be the Diavillo, I have una certaina Immaterial Invisible Conjuratione, that will so neatly lay your Inanimate unintelligible Diavilloship. — [Pulls out his wooden Sword.
Sir Sig. How! he must needs be valiant indeed that dares fight with the Devil. [Endeavours to get away, Tick, beats him about the Stage.] — Ah, Signior, Signior, Mia! ah — Caspeto de Baccus — he cornuto, I am a damn’d silly Devil that have no dexterity in vanishing.
[Gropes and finds the Door — going out, meets just entring Fillamour, Galliard with all the Musick — he retires, and stands close.
— Hah, — what have we here, new Mischief? —
[Tick. and he stands against each other, on either side of the Stage.
Fil. Prithee how came we to lose ye?
Gal. I thought I had follow’d ye — but ’tis well we are met again. Come tune your Pipes. — [They play a little, enter Marcella as before.
Mar. This must be he. [Goes up to ‘em.
Gal. Come, come, your Song, Boy, your Song.
Whilst ’tis singing, Enter Octavio, Julio, Crapine, and Bravos.
The SONG.
Crudo Amore, Crudo Amore, |
Il mio Core non fa per te bis
Suffrir non vo tormenti
Senza mai sperar mar ce
Belta che sia Tiranna,
Belta che sia Tiranna
Doll meo offerto recetto non e
Il tuo rigor singunna
Se le pene
Le catene
Tenta auolgere al mio pie
See see Crudel Amore |
Il mio Core non fa per te. bis
Lusinghiero, Lusinghiero, |
Pui non Credo alta tua fe bis
L’ incendio del tuo foce
Nel mio Core pui vivo none
Belta che li die Luoce
Belta che li die Luoce
Ma il rigor L’Ardore s’bande
Io non sato tuo gioce
Ch’ il Veleno
Del mio seno
Vergoroso faggito se n’e.
See see Crudel Amore |
Il mio Core non fa per te. bis
Oct. ’Tis they we look for, draw and be ready. —
Tick. Hah, draw — then there’s no safety here, certo. [Aside.
[Octavio, Julio and their Party draw, and fight with Fil. and Gal. Marcella ingages on their side; all fight, the Musick confusedly amongst ‘em: Gal. loses his Sword, and in the hurry gets a Base Viol, and happens to strike Tickletext, who is getting away — his Head breaks its way quite through, and it hangs about his neck; they fight out.
Enter Petro with a Lanthorn. Sir Signal stands close still.
Tick. Oh, undone, undone! where am I, where am I?
Pet. Hah — that’s the voice of my amorous Ananias, — or I am mistaken — what the Devil’s the matter? [Opens his Lanthorn. — Where are ye, Sir? — hah, cuts so — what new-found Pillory have we here?
Tick. Oh, honest Barberacho, undo me, undo me quickly.
Pet. So I design, Sir, as fast as I can — or lose my aim — there, Sir, there: All’s well — I have set you free, come follow me the back way into the house.
[Ex. Pet. and Tickletext.
Enter Fillamour and Marcella, with their Swords drawn, Gal. after ‘em.
Gal. A plague upon ‘em, what a quarter’s here for a Wench, as if there were no more i’th’ Nation? — wou’d I’d my Sword again. [Gropes for it.
Mar. Which way shall I direct him to be safer? — how is it, Sir? I hope you are not hurt.
Fil. Not that I feel, what art thou ask’st so kindly?
Mar. A Servant to the Roman Curtezan, who sent me forth to wait your coming, Sir; but finding you in danger, shar’d it with you. — Come, let me lead you into safety, Sir —
Fil. Thou’st been too kind to give me cause to doubt thee.
Mar. Follow me, Sir, this Key will give us entrance through the Garden. [Exeunt.
Enter Octavio with his Sword in his hand.
Oct. Oh! what damn’d luck had I so poorly to be vanquisht! When all is hush’d, I know he will return, — therefore I’ll fix me here, till I become a furious Statue — but I’ll reach his heart.
Sir Sig. Oh lamentivolo fato — what bloody Villains these Popish Italians are!
Enter Julio.
Oct. Hah — I hear one coming this way — hah — the door opens too, and he makes toward it — pray Heaven he be the right, for this I’m sure’s the House. — Now, Luck, an’t be thy will — [Follows Julio towards the door softly.
Jul. The Rogues are fled, but how secure I know not; — And I’ll pursue my first design of Love, And if this Silvianetta will be kind —
Enter Laura from the House in a Night-gown.
Lau. Whist — who is’t names Silvianetta?
Jul. A Lover, and her Slave — [She takes him by the hand.
Lau. Oh, is it you, — are you escap’d unhurt? Come to my Bosom — and be safe for ever —
Jul. ’Tis Love that calls, and now Revenge must stay, — This hour is thine, fond Boy; the next that is my own I’ll give to Anger. —
Oct. Oh, ye pernicious Pair, — I’ll quickly change the Scene of Love into a rougher and more unexpected Entertainment.
[She leads Julio in. — Oct. follows close, they shut the door upon ‘em. Sir Sig. thrusts out his head to hearken, hears no body, and advances.
Sir Sig. Sure the Devil reigns to night; wou’d I were shelter’d, and let him rain Fire and Brimstone: for pass the streets I dare not — this shou’d be the House — or hereabouts I’m sure ’tis. — Hah — what’s this — a String — of a Bell I hope — I’ll try to enter; and if I am mistaken, ’tis but crying Con licentia. [Rings, enter Philippa. Phil. Who’s there?
Sir Sig. ’Tis I, ’tis I, let me in quickly. —
Phil. Who — the English Cavalier?
Sir Sig. The same — I am right — I see I was expected.
Phil. I’m glad you’re come — give me your hand. —
Sir Sig. I am fortunate at last, — and therefore will say with the famous Poet.
No Happiness like that atchicv’d with Danger,
— Which once overcome — I lie at Rack and Manger.
[Exeunt.