ACT 1

Scene 1

Enter FRIAR and GIOVANNI.

FRIAR

              Dispute no more in this; for know, young man,1

              These are no school-points.2 Nice3 philosophy

              May tolerate unlikely arguments,

              But heaven admits4 no jest. Wits5 that presumed

              On wit too much, by striving how to prove

              There was no God, with foolish grounds of art6

              Discovered first the nearest way to hell,

              And filled the world with devilish atheism.

              Such questions, youth, are fond;7 for better ’tis

        10   To bless the sun than reason why it shines –

              Yet He thou talk’st of is above the sun.

              No more! I may not hear it.

GIOVANNI

                                                    Gentle father,

              To you I have unclasped my burdened soul,

              Emptied the store-house of my thoughts and heart,

              Made myself poor of secrets, have not left

              Another word untold which hath not spoke

              All what I ever durst or think or know;

              And yet is here the comfort I shall have?

              Must I not do what all men else may: love?

FRIAR

              Yes, you may love, fair son.

GIOVANNI

        20                                    Must I not praise

              That beauty which, if framed anew, the gods

              Would make a god of, if they had it there,

              And kneel to it, as I do kneel to them?

FRIAR

              Why, foolish madman!

GIOVANNI

                                               Shall a peevish1 sound,

              A customary form from man to man,2

              Of brother and of sister, be a bar

              ’Twixt my perpetual happiness and me?

              Say that we had one father, say one womb –

              Curse to my joys! – gave both us life and birth;

        30   Are we not therefore each to other bound

              So much the more by nature, by the links

              Of blood, of reason – nay, if you will have’t,

              Even of religion – to be ever one?

              One soul, one flesh,3 one love, one heart, one all.

FRIAR

              Have done, unhappy4 youth, for thou art lost!

GIOVANNI

              Shall then, for that5 I am her brother born,

              My joys be ever banished from her bed?

              No, father, in your eyes I see the change

              Of pity and compassion. From your age,

        40   As from a sacred oracle, distils

              The life of counsel. Tell me, holy man,

              What cure shall give me ease in these extremes?

FRIAR

              Repentance, son, and sorrow for this sin;

              For thou hast moved a majesty above

              With thy unrangèd1 almost blasphemy.

GIOVANNI

              Oh, do not speak of that, dear confessor.

FRIAR

              Art thou, my son, that miracle of wit

              Who once, within these three months, wert esteemed

              A wonder of thine age throughout Bologna?2

        50   How did the university applaud

              Thy government,3 behaviour, learning, speech,

              Sweetness, and all that could make up a man!

              I was proud of my tutelage, and chose

              Rather to leave my books than part with thee.

              I did so; but the fruits of all my hopes

              Are lost in thee, as thou art in thyself.

              O Giovanni, hast thou left the schools

              Of knowledge to converse with Lust and Death?

              For Death waits4 on thy lust. Look through the world,

        60   And thou shalt see a thousand faces shine

              More glorious than this idol thou ador’st.

              Leave her, and take thy choice; ’tis much less sin,

              Though in such games as those they lose that win.5

GIOVANNI

              It were more ease to stop the ocean

              From floats and ebbs6 than to dissuade my vows.

FRIAR

              Then I have done, and in thy wilful flames

              Already see thy ruin. Heaven is just –

              Yet hear my counsel.

GIOVANNI

                                            As a voice of life.

FRIAR

              Hie1 to thy father’s house. There lock thee fast

        70   Alone within thy chamber, then fall down

              On both thy knees and grovel on the ground.

              Cry to thy heart, wash every word thou utter’st

              In tears – and if’t be possible – of blood.

              Beg heaven to cleanse the leprosy of lust

              That rots thy soul. Acknowledge what thou art:

              A wretch, a worm, a nothing. Weep, sigh, pray

              Three times a day, and three times every night.

              For seven days’ space do this; then, if thou find’st

              No change in thy desires, return to me.

        80   I’ll think on remedy. Pray for thyself

              At home, whilst I pray for thee here. Away!

              My blessing with thee; we have need to pray.

GIOVANNI

              All this I’ll do to free me from the rod

              Of vengeance; else I’ll swear my fate’s my god.      Exeunt.

ACT 1

Scene 2

Enter GRIMALDI, and VASQUEZ, ready to fight.2.

VASQUEZ

               Come, sir, stand to your tackling.3 If you prove craven,4 I’ll make you run quickly.

GRIMALDI

              Thou art no equal5 match for me.

VASQUEZ

               Indeed, I never went to the wars to bring home news; nor cannot play the mountebank1 for a meal’s meat, and swear I got my wounds in the field. See you these grey hairs? They’ll not flinch for a bloody nose. Wilt thou to this gear?2

GRIMALDI

              Why, slave, think’st thou I’ll balance my reputation with a cast-suit?3 Call thy master; he shall know that I dare –

VASQUEZ

        10   Scold like a cotquean4 – that’s your profession, thou poor shadow of a soldier. I will make thee know my master keeps servants thy betters in quality and performance. Com’st thou to fight or prate?5

GRIMALDI

              Neither with thee. I am a Roman6 and a gentleman, one that have got mine honour with expense of blood.

VASQUEZ

              You are a lying coward and a fool. Fight, or by these hilts I’ll kill thee –

                    [GRIMALDI draws his sword.]

              Brave my lord, you’ll fight!

GRIMALDI

              Provoke me not, for if thou dost –

VASQUEZ

        20   Have at you!

They fight. GRIMALDI hath the worst.
Enter FLORIO, DONADO [and], SORANZO.

FLORIO

              What mean these sudden broils7 so near my doors?

              Have you not other places but my house

              To vent the spleen6 of your disordered bloods?

              Must I be haunted still with such unrest,

              As not to eat or sleep in peace at home?

              Is this your love, Grimaldi? Fie, ’tis naught.

DONADO

              And, Vasquez, I may tell thee ’tis not well

              To broach these quarrels. You are ever forward

              In seconding contentions.

Enter above1 ANNABELLA and PUTTANA.

FLORIO

                                                    What’s the ground?2

SORANZO

        30   That, with your patience, signors, I’ll resolve:3

              This gentleman, whom fame reports a soldier –

              For else I know not4 – rivals me in love

              To Signor Florio’s daughter, to whose ears

              He still prefers5 his suit to my disgrace,

              Thinking the way to recommend himself

              Is to disparage me in his report.

              But know, Grimaldi, though may be thou art

              My equal in thy blood, yet this bewrays6

              A lowness in thy mind, which, wert thou noble,

        40   Thou wouldst as much disdain as I do thee

              For this unworthiness. [To FLORIO] And on this ground

              I willed my servant to correct this tongue,

              Holding a man so base no match for me.

VASQUEZ

               And had not your sudden coming prevented us, I had let my gentleman blood under the gills.7 [To GRIMALDI] I should have wormed you, sir, for running mad.8

GRIMALDI

              I’ll be revenged, Soranzo.

VASQUEZ

        50   On a dish of warm broth to stay your stomach?1 Do, honest Innocence, do! Spoon-meat2 is a wholesomer diet than a Spanish blade.

GRIMALDI

              Remember this.

SORANZO

                                              I fear thee not, Grimaldi.        Exit GRIMALDI.

FLORIO

              My lord Soranzo, this is strange to me,

              Why you should storm, having my word3 engaged.

              Owing4 her heart, what need you doubt her ear?

              Losers may talk, by law of any game.5

VASQUEZ

              Yet the villainy of words, Signor Florio, may be such as would make any unspleened6 dove choleric. Blame not my lord in this.

FLORIO

              Be you more silent!

        60   I would not, for my wealth, my daughter’s love

              Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.

              Vasquez, put up.7 Let’s end this fray in wine.

                       Exeunt [FLORIO, DONADO, SORANZO and VASQUEZ].

PUTTANA

               How like you this, child? Here’s threatening, challenging, quarrelling and fighting on every side, and all is for your sake. You had need look to yourself, charge, you’ll be stolen away sleeping else, shortly.

ANNABELLA

              But, tut’ress, such a life gives no content

              To me. My thoughts are fixed on other ends.

              Would you would leave me.

PUTTANA

        70   Leave you? No marvel else!1 Leave me no leaving, charge; this is love outright. Indeed, I blame you not. You have choice fit for the best lady in Italy.

ANNABELLA

              Pray, do not talk so much.

PUTTANA

               Take the worst with the best. There’s Grimaldi the soldier: a very well-timbered2 fellow. They say he is a Roman, nephew to the Duke Monferrato. They say he did good service in the wars against the Milanese. But ’faith, charge, I do not like him, an’t be for nothing but for being a soldier. One amongst twenty of your skirmishing captains but have some privy

        80   maim3 or other that mars their standing upright.4 I like him the worse; he crinkles so much in the hams.5 Though he might serve if there were no more men, yet he’s not the man I would choose.

ANNABELLA

              Fie, how thou prat’st!

PUTTANA

               As I am a very woman, I like Signor Soranzo well. He is wise; and, what is more, rich; and, what is more than that, kind; and, what is more than all this, a nobleman. Such a one, were I the fair Annabella myself, I would wish and pray for. Then he is bountiful; besides he is handsome; and, by my

        90   troth, I think wholesome6 – and that’s news in a gallant of three-and-twenty! Liberal,1 that I know; loving, that you know; and a man,2 sure, else he could never ha’ purchased such a good name with Hippolita, the lusty widow, in her husband’s lifetime. An ’twere but for that report, sweetheart, would ’a were thine! Commend a man for his qualities, but take a husband as he is a plain-sufficient,3 naked man. Such a one is for your bed, and such a one is Signor Soranzo, my life for’t!

ANNABELLA

              Sure, the woman took her morning’s draught4 too soon!

Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.

PUTTANA

      100   But look, sweetheart, look, what thing comes now. Here’s another of your ciphers5 to fill up the number. O brave old ape in a silken coat!6 Observe.

BERGETTO

               Didst thou think, Poggio, that I would spoil my new clothes and leave my dinner to fight?7

POGGIO

              No, sir, I did not take you for so arrant a baby.

BERGETTO

               I am wiser than so; for I hope, Poggio, thou never heard’st of an elder brother that was a coxcomb,8 didst, Poggio?

POGGIO

               Never, indeed, sir, as long as they had either land or money left them to inherit.

BERGETTO

POGGIO

               Sir, I have seen an ass and a mule trot the Spanish pavan2 with a better grace, I know not how often.

Exeunt [BERGETTO and POGGIO].

ANNABELLA

              This idiot haunts me too.

PUTTANA

               Ay, ay, he needs no description. The rich magnifico3 that is below with your father, charge, Signor Donado his uncle, for

      120   that he means to make this his cousin a golden calf, thinks that you will be a right Israelite and fall down4 to him presently;5 but I hope I have tutored you better. They say a fool’s bauble6 is a lady’s playfellow. Yet you, having wealth enough, you need not cast upon the dearth of flesh7 at any rate. Hang him! Innocent!

Enter GIOVANNI.

ANNABELLA

              But see, Puttana, see what blessèd shape

              Of some celestial creature now appears!

              What man is he, that with such sad aspect

              Walks careless of himself?

PUTTANA

                                                  Where?

ANNABELLA

                                                     Look below.

PUTTANA

              Oh, ’tis your brother, sweet.

ANNABELLA

                                          Ha?

PUTTANA

        130                                   ’Tis your brother.

ANNABELLA

              Sure, ’tis not he. This is some woeful thing

              Wrapped up in grief, some shadow of a man.

              Alas, he beats his breast, and wipes his eyes

              Drowned all in tears. Methinks I hear him sigh.

              Let’s down, Puttana, and partake the cause.

              I know my brother, in the love he bears me,

              Will not deny me partage1 in his sadness.

              My soul is full of heaviness and fear.

Exeunt [ANNABELLA and PUTTANA].

GIOVANNI

              Lost, I am lost! My fates have doomed my death.

      140   The more I strive, I love; the more I love,

              The less I hope. I see my ruin, certain.

              What judgement or endeavours could apply

              To my incurable and restless wounds

              I throughly2 have examined, but in vain.

              Oh, that it were not in religion sin

              To make our love a god and worship it!

              I have even wearied heaven with prayers, dried up

              The spring of my continual tears, even starved

              My veins with daily fasts. What wit3 or art

      150   Could counsel I have practised. But, alas,

              I find all these but dreams and old men’s tales

              To fright unsteady youth. I’m still the same;

              Or4 I must speak or burst. ’Tis not, I know,

              My lust, but ’tis my fate that leads me on.

              Keep fear, and low, faint-hearted shame with slaves!1

              I’ll tell her that I love her, though my heart

              Were rated at the price of that attempt.2

Enter ANNABELLA and PUTTANA.

              O me! She comes.

ANNABELLA

                                  Brother –

GIOVANNI [Aside]

                                                  If such a thing

              As courage dwell in men, ye heavenly powers,

      160  Now double all that virtue in my tongue.

ANNABELLA

              Why, brother, will you not speak to me?

GIOVANNI

              Yes; how d’ee, sister?

ANNABELLA

              Howsoever I am, methinks you are not well.

PUTTANA

              Bless us, why are you so sad, sir?

GIOVANNI

              Let me entreat you leave us a while, Puttana.

              Sister, I would be private with you.

ANNABELLA

                                                      Withdraw, Puttana.

PUTTANA

               I will. [Aside] If this were any other company for her, I should think my absence an office of some credit;3 but I will leave them together.        Exit PUTTANA.

GIOVANNI

      170   Come, sister, lend your hand. Let’s walk together.

              I hope you need not blush to walk with me;

              Here’s none but you and I.

ANNABELLA

              How’s this?

GIOVANNI

              ’Faith, I mean no harm.

ANNABELLA

              Harm?

GIOVANNI

              No, good faith. How is’t with’ee?

ANNABELLA [Aside]

              I trust he be not frantic.1

              [Aloud] I am very well, brother.

GIOVANNI

              Trust me, but I am sick. I fear, so sick

        180 ’Twill cost my life.

ANNABELLA

              Mercy forbid it! ’Tis not so, I hope.

GIOVANNI

              I think you love me, sister.

ANNABELLA

              Yes, you know I do.

GIOVANNI

              I know’t, indeed. – Y’are very fair.

ANNABELLA

              Nay, then, I see you have a merry sickness.

GIOVANNI

              That’s as it proves. The poets feign, I read,

              That Juno2 for her forehead did exceed

              All other goddesses, but I durst swear

              Your forehead exceeds hers, as hers did theirs.

ANNABELLA

              Troth, this is pretty.

GIOVANNI

        190                       Such a pair of stars

              As are thine eyes would, like Promethean fire,1

              If gently glanced,2 give life to senseless stones.

ANNABELLA

              Fie upon’ee!

GIOVANNI

              The lily and the rose, most sweetly strange,3

              Upon your dimpled cheeks do strive for ’change.4

              Such lips would tempt a saint; such hands as those

              Would make an anchorite5 lascivious.

ANNABELLA

              D’ee mock me or flatter me?

GIOVANNI

              If you would see a beauty more exact

      200   Than Art can counterfeit or Nature frame,

              Look in your glass, and there behold your own.

ANNABELLA

              Oh, you are a trim6 youth!

GIOVANNI

              Here.

[He] offers his dagger to her.

ANNABELLA

                   What to do?

GIOVANNI

                                      And here’s my breast. Strike home!

              Rip up my bosom! There thou shalt behold

              A heart in which is writ the truth I speak.

              Why stand’ee?7

ANNABELLA

                                 Are you earnest?

GIOVANNI

                                                 Yes, most earnest.

              You cannot love?

ANNABELLA

                                 Whom?

GIOVANNI

                                           Me! My tortured soul

              Hath felt affliction in the heat of death.1

              O Annabella, I am quite undone!

      210   The love of thee, my sister, and the view

              Of thy immortal beauty hath untuned

              All harmony, both of my rest and life.

              Why d’ee not strike?

ANNABELLA

                                          Forbid it, my just2 fears!

              If this be true, ’twere fitter I were dead.

GIOVANNI

              True, Annabella? ’Tis no time to jest.

              I have too long suppressed the hidden flames

              That almost have consumed me. I have spent

              Many a silent night in sighs and groans,

              Ran over all my thoughts, despised my fate,

      220   Reasoned against the reasons of my love,

              Done all that smooth-cheeked3 Virtue could advise,

              But found all bootless.4 ’Tis my destiny

              That you must either love, or I must die.

ANNABELLA

              Comes this in sadness5 from you?

GIOVANNI

                                                    Let some mischief

              Befall me soon if I dissemble aught.

ANNABELLA

              You are my brother, Giovanni.

GIOVANNI

                                                      You

              My sister, Annabella. I know this,

              And could afford you instance why to love

              So much the more for this, to which intent

      230   Wise Nature first in your creation meant

              To make you mine; else’t had been sin and foul

              To share one beauty to a double soul.

              Nearness in birth or blood doth but persuade

              A nearer nearness in affection.

              I have asked counsel of the holy Church,

              Who tells me I may love you; and ’tis just,

              That since I may, I should and will, yes, will.

              Must I now live, or die?

ANNABELLA

                                                  Live. Thou hast won

              The field and never fought. What thou hast urged

      240   My captive heart had long ago resolved.

              I blush to tell thee – but I’ll tell thee now –

              For every sigh that thou hast spent for me,

              I have sighed ten; for every tear, shed twenty;

              And not so much for that I loved, as that

              I durst not say I loved, nor scarcely think it.

GIOVANNI

              Let not this music be a dream, ye gods,

              For pity’s sake, I beg’ee!

ANNABELLA

                                              On my knees,

                                           She kneels.

              Brother, even by our mother’s dust I charge you,

              Do not betray me to your mirth or hate:

              Love me, or kill me, brother.

GIOVANNI

          250                                  On my knees,

                                           He kneels.

              Sister, even by my mother’s dust I charge you,

              Do not betray me to your mirth or hate:

              Love me, or kill me, sister.

ANNABELLA

              You mean good sooth,1 then?

GIOVANNI

                                              In good troth, I do;

              And so do you, I hope. Say I’m in earnest.2

ANNABELLA

              I’ll swear’t – and I.3

GIOVANNI

                          And I, and by this kiss –

                                Kisses her.

              Once more. [Kisses her.] Yet once more. [Kisses her.] Now let’s rise, by this.

[He kisses her and they stand up together.]

              I would not change4 this minute for Elysium.5

              What must we now do?

ANNABELLA

                                     What you will.

GIOVANNI

                                                    Come, then;

      260   After so many tears as we have wept,

              Let’s learn to court in smiles, to kiss and sleep.      Exeunt.

ACT 1

Scene 3

Enter FLORIO and DONADO.

FLORIO

              Signor Donado, you have said enough.

              I understand you, but would have you know

              I will not force my daughter ’gainst her will.

              You see I have but two: a son and her –

              And he is so devoted to his book

              As, I must tell you true, I doubt1 his health.

              Should he miscarry,2 all my hopes rely

              Upon my girl. As for worldly fortune,

              I am, I thank my stars, blessed with enough.

        10   My care is how to match her to her liking.

              I would not have her marry wealth but love;

              And if she like your nephew, let him have her.

              Here’s all that I can say.

DONADO

                                                    Sir, you say well,

              Like a true father; and for my part, I,

              If the young folks can like – ’twixt you and me –

              Will promise to assure my nephew presently3

              Three thousand florins yearly during life,4

              And, after I am dead, my whole estate.

FLORIO

              ’Tis a fair proffer, sir. Meantime, your nephew

        20   Shall have free passage to commence his suit.

              If he can thrive, he shall have my consent.

              So for this time I’ll leave you, signor.          Exit.

DONADO

                                                    Well,

              Here’s hope yet, if my nephew would have wit.

              But he is such another dunce, I fear

              He’ll never win the wench. When I was young

              I could have done’t, i’faith, and so shall he

              If he will learn of me –

Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.

                                                  and in good time

              He comes himself.

              How now, Bergetto, whither away so fast?

BERGETTO

        30   O uncle, I have heard the strangest news that ever came out of the mint1 – have I not, Poggio?

POGGIO

              Yes, indeed, sir.

DONADO

              What news, Bergetto?

BERGETTO

              Why, look ye, uncle, my barber told me just now that there is a fellow come to town who undertakes to make a mill go without the mortal help of any water or wind, only with sandbags! And this fellow hath a strange horse – a most excellent beast, I’ll assure you, uncle, my barber says – whose head, to the wonder of all Christian people, stands just

        40   behind where his tail is.2 Is’t not true, Poggio?

POGGIO

              So the barber3 swore, forsooth.

DONADO

              And you are running thither?

BERGETTO

              Ay, forsooth, uncle.

DONADO

              Wilt thou be a fool still? Come, sir, you shall not go. You have more mind of a puppet play4 than on the business I told ye. Why, thou great baby, wilt never have wit? Wilt make thyself a May-game1 to all the world?

POGGIO

              Answer for yourself, master.

BERGETTO

              Why, uncle, should I sit at home still, and not go abroad to

        50   see fashions like other gallants?

DONADO

               To see hobby-horses!2 What wise talk, I pray, had you with Annabella when you were at Signor Florio’s house?

BERGETTO

               Oh, the wench! Uds sa’ me,3 uncle, I tickled her with a rare speech, that I made her almost burst her belly with laughing.

DONADO

              Nay, I think so; and what speech was’t?

BERGETTO

              What did I say, Poggio?

POGGIO

               Forsooth, my master said that he loved her almost as well as he loved Parmesan,4 and swore – I’ll be sworn for him – that she wanted but such a nose as his was to be as pretty a young

        60   woman as any was in Parma.

DONADO

              Oh, gross!

BERGETTO

               Nay, uncle, then she asked me whether my father had any more children than myself, and I said, ‘No, ’twere better he should have had his brains knocked out first.’

DONADO

              This is intolerable.

BERGETTO

              Then said she, ‘Will Signor Donado, your uncle, leave you all his wealth?’

DONADO

              Ha! That was good. Did she harp upon that string?

BERGETTO

               Did she harp upon that string? Ay, that she did. I answered,

        70   ‘Leave me all his wealth? Why, woman, he hath no other wit.1 If he had, he should hear on’t to his everlasting glory2 and confusion. I know,’ quoth I, ‘I am his white boy,3 and will not be gulled.’4 And with that she fell into a great smile, and went away. Nay, I did fit her.5

DONADO

               Ah, sirrah, then I see there is no changing of nature. Well, Bergetto, I fear thou wilt be a very ass still.

BERGETTO

              I should be sorry for that, uncle.

DONADO

               Come, come you home with me. Since you are no better a speaker, I’ll have you write to her after some courtly manner,

        80   and enclose some rich jewel in the letter.

BERGETTO

              Ay, marry, that will be excellent.

DONADO

              Peace, innocent!

              Once in my time I’ll set my wits to school.

              If all fail, ’tis but the fortune of a fool.

BERGETTO

              Poggio, ’twill do, Poggio.                            Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 1

Enter GIOVANNI and ANNABELLA, as from their chamber.

GIOVANNI

              Come, Annabella; no more sister now,

              But love – a name more gracious. Do not blush,

              Beauty’s sweet wonder, but be proud to know

              That, yielding,1 thou hast conquered and enflamed

              A heart whose tribute2 is thy brother’s life.

ANNABELLA

              And mine is his. Oh, how these stol’n contents3

              Would print a modest crimson on my cheeks,

              Had any but my heart’s delight prevailed!

GIOVANNI

              I marvel why the chaster of your sex

        10   Should think this pretty toy4 called maidenhead

              So strange a loss, when, being lost, ’tis nothing,5

              And you are still the same.

ANNABELLA

                                                 ’Tis well for you;

              Now you can talk.

GIOVANNI

                                     Music as well consists

              In th’ear as in the playing.6

ANNABELLA

                                        Oh, y’are wanton!

              Tell on’t, y’are best, do.

GIOVANNI

                                        Thou wilt chide me, then.

              Kiss me. [They kiss] So. Thus hung Jove on Leda’s neck,1

              And sucked divine ambrosia from her lips.

              I envy not the mightiest man alive,

              But hold myself, in being king of thee,

        20   More great than were I king of all the world.

              But I shall lose you, sweetheart.

ANNABELLA

                                                    But you shall not.

GIOVANNI

              You must be married, mistress.

ANNABELLA

                                              Yes? To whom?

GIOVANNI

              Someone must have you.

ANNABELLA

                               You must.

GIOVANNI

                                           Nay, some other.

ANNABELLA

              Now, prithee, do not speak so without jesting;

              You’ll make me weep in earnest.

GIOVANNI

                                              What? You will not.

              But tell me, sweet, canst thou be dared to swear

              That thou wilt live to me,2 and to no other?

ANNABELLA

              By both our loves, I dare; for didst thou know,

              My Giovanni, how all suitors seem

        30   To my eyes hateful, thou wouldst trust me then.

GIOVANNI

              Enough, I take thy word. Sweet, we must part.

              Remember what thou vow’st: keep well my heart.

ANNABELLA

              Will you be gone?

GIOVANNI

                                     I must.

ANNABELLA

                                              When to return?

GIOVANNI

              Soon.

ANNABELLA

                             Look you do.

GIOVANNI

                                        Farewell.                    Exit.

ANNABELLA

              Go where thou wilt, in mind I’ll keep thee here;

              And where thou art, I know I shall be there.

              [Calls] Guardian!

Enter PUTTANA.

PUTTANA

              Child, how is’t, child? Well, thank heaven, ha?

ANNABELLA

              O guardian, what a paradise of joy

PUTTANA

               Nay, what a paradise of joy have you passed under!2 Why, now I commend thee, charge. Fear nothing, sweetheart. What, though he be your brother? Your brother’s a man, I hope; and I say still, if a young wench feel the fit3 upon her, let her take anybody: father or brother, all is one.

ANNABELLA

              I would not have it known for all the world.

PUTTANA

              Nor I, indeed, for the speech of the people;4 else ’twere nothing.

FLORIO (Within)

              Daughter Annabella!

ANNABELLA

               O me, my father! – Here, sir! [To PUTTANA] Reach my work.

                      [PUTTANA gives her a piece of needlework.]

FLORIO (Within)

              What are you doing?

ANNABELLA [To PUTTANA]

        50                                 So, let him come now.

Enter FLORIO, RICHARDETTO [disguised] like a doctor of physic,1 and PHILOTIS with a lute in her hand.

FLORIO

              So hard at work? That’s well; you lose2 no time.

              Look, I have brought you company. Here’s one,

              A learned doctor, lately come from Padova,3

              Much skilled in physic; and for that I see

              You have of late been sickly,4 I entreated

              This reverend man to visit you some time.

ANNABELLA

              Y’are very welcome, sir.

RICHARDETTO

                                                 I thank you, mistress.

              Loud fame in large5 report hath spoke your praise,

              As well for virtue as perfection;6

        60   For which I have been bold to bring with me

              A kinswoman of mine, a maid, for song

              And music. One, perhaps, will give content.

              Please you to know her?

ANNABELLA

                                        They are parts1 I love,

              And she for them most welcome.

PHILOTIS

                                              Thank you, lady.

FLORIO

              Sir, now you know my house, pray make not strange;2

              And if you find my daughter need your art,3

              I’ll be your pay-master.

RICHARDETTO

                                            Sir, what I am

              She shall command.

FLORIO

                                         You shall bind me to you.

              Daughter, I must have conference with you

        70   About some matters that concerns us both.

              Good master Doctor, please you but walk in;

              We’ll crave a little of your cousin’s4 cunning.5

              I think my girl hath not quite forgot

              To touch an instrument;6 she could have done’t.7

              We’ll hear them both.

RICHARDETTO

                                I’ll wait upon you, sir.        Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 2

Enter SORANZO in his study, reading a book.

SORANZO

              ‘Love’s measure is extreme; the comfort, pain;

              The life, unrest; and the reward, disdain.’

              What’s here? Look’t o’er again. ’Tis so, so writes

              This smooth, licentious poet in his rhymes.

              But, Sannazar,1 thou liest; for had thy bosom

              Felt such oppression as is laid on mine,

              Thou wouldst have kissed the rod that made the smart.

              To work then, happy Muse,2 and contradict

              What Sannazar hath, in his envy, writ:

        10   [Writes] ‘Love’s measure is the mean,3 sweet his annoys,4

              His pleasures life, and his reward all joys.’

              Had Annabella lived when Sannazar

              Did in his brief encomium celebrate

              Venice, that queen of cities, he had left5

              That verse, which gained him such a sum of gold,

              And for one only look from Annabel

              Had writ of her, and her diviner cheeks.

              Oh, how my thoughts are –

VASQUEZ (Within)

               Pray, forbear! In rules of civility, let me give notice on’t. I

        20   shall be taxed of6 my neglect of duty and service.

SORANZO

              What rude intrusion interrupts my peace?

              Can I be nowhere private?

VASQUEZ (Within)

              Troth, you wrong your modesty.

SORANZO

              What’s the matter, Vasquez? Who is’t?

Enter HIPPOLITA [dressed in mourning] and VASQUEZ.

HIPPOLITA

                                                                   ’Tis I;

              Do you know me now?1 Look, perjured man, on her

              Whom thou and thy distracted lust have wronged.

              Thy sensual rage of blood2 hath made my youth

              A scorn to men and angels; and shall I

              Be now a foil to thy unsated change?3

        30   Thou know’st, false wanton, when my modest fame4

              Stood free from stain or scandal, all the charms

              Of hell or sorcery could not prevail

              Against the honour of my chaster bosom.

              Thine eyes did plead in tears, thy tongue in oaths,

              Such and so many that a heart of steel

              Would have been wrought to pity, as was mine.

              And shall the conquest of my lawful bed,

              My husband’s death urged on by his disgrace,5

              My loss of womanhood,6 be ill rewarded

        40   With hatred and contempt? No, know Soranzo,

              I have a spirit doth as much distaste

              The slavery of fearing thee, as thou

              Dost loathe the memory of what hath passed.

SORANZO

              Nay, dear Hippolita –

HIPPOLITA

                                      Call me not ‘dear’,

              Nor think with supple words to smooth the grossness

              Of my abuses. ’Tis not your new mistress,

              Your goodly Madam Merchant, shall triumph

              On my dejection. Tell her thus from me:

              My birth was nobler, and by much more free.1

SORANZO

              You are too violent.

HIPPOLITA

        50                            You are too double2

              In your dissimulation. See’st thou this,

              This habit, these black mourning-weeds3 of care?

              ’Tis thou art cause of this, and hast divorced

              My husband from his life and me from him,

              And made me widow in my widowhood.4

SORANZO

              Will you yet hear?

HIPPOLITA

                                   More of thy perjuries?

              Thy soul is drowned too deeply in those sins;

              Thou need’st not add to th’number.

SORANZO

                                                   Then I’ll leave you;

              You are past all rules of sense.

HIPPOLITA

                                            And thou of grace.

VASQUEZ

        60   Fie, mistress, you are not near the limits of reason. If my lord had a resolution as noble as virtue itself, you take the course to unedge5 it all. [To SORANZO] Sir, I beseech you, do not perplex1 her. Griefs, alas, will have a vent. I dare undertake Madam Hippolita will now freely hear you.

SORANZO

              Talk to a woman frantic? Are these the fruits of your love?

HIPPOLITA

              They are the fruits of thy untruth, false man.

              Didst thou not swear whilst yet my husband lived,

              That thou wouldst wish no happiness on earth

              More than to call me wife? Didst thou not vow,

        70   When he should die, to marry me? For which

              The devil in my blood, and thy protests,2

              Caused me to counsel him to undertake

              A voyage to Leghorn,3 for that we heard

              His brother there was dead, and left a daughter

              Young and unfriended, who with much ado

              I wished him to bring hither. He did so,

              And went, and, as thou know’st, died on the way.

              Unhappy man to buy his death so dear

              With my advice! Yet thou, for whom I did it,

        80   Forget’st thy vows, and leav’st me to my shame.

SORANZO

              Who could help this?

HIPPOLITA

                                     Who, perjured man? Thou could’st,

              If thou hadst faith or love.

SORANZO

                                        You are deceived:

              The vows I made, if you remember well,

              Were wicked and unlawful. ’Twere more sin

              To keep them than to break them. As for me,

              I cannot mask my penitence. Think thou

              How much thou hast digressed from honest shame

              In bringing of a gentleman to death

              Who was thy husband; such a one as he,

              Learning, behaviour, entertainment,2 love,

              As Parma could not show a braver3 man.

VASQUEZ

              You do not well; this was not your promise.

SORANZO

              I care not; let her know her monstrous life.

              Ere I’ll be servile to so black a sin,

              I’ll be a corpse. [To HIPPOLITA] Woman, come here no more.

              Learn to repent and die; for, by my honour,

              I hate thee and thy lust. You have been too foul.

[Exit SORANZO.]

VASQUEZ

              This part has been scurvily played.

HIPPOLITA

      100   How foolishly this beast contemns his fate,

              And shuns the use of that which I more scorn

              Than I once loved: his love. But let him go.

              My vengeance shall give comfort to his woe.4

She offers to go away.

VASQUEZ [following after her]

              Mistress, mistress! Madam Hippolita!

              Pray, a word or two.

HIPPOLITA

              With me, sir?

VASQUEZ

              With you, if you please.

HIPPOLITA

              What is’t?

VASQUEZ

               I know you are infinitely moved now, and you think you

      110   have cause. Some, I confess, you have, but, sure, not so much as you imagine.

HIPPOLITA

              Indeed?

VASQUEZ

               Oh, you were miserably bitter, which you followed even to the last syllable. ’Faith, you were somewhat too shrewd.1 By my life, you could not have took my lord in a worse time since I first knew him. Tomorrow you shall find him a new man.

HIPPOLITA

               Well, I shall wait his leisure.

VASQUEZ

                Fie, this is not a hearty2 patience; it comes sourly from you.

        120  Troth, let me persuade you for once.

HIPPOLITA [Aside]

              I have it, and it shall be so. Thanks, Opportunity.

              [Aloud] Persuade me to what?

VASQUEZ

              Visit him in some milder temper. Oh, if you could but master a little your female spleen,3 how might you win him!

HIPPOLITA

               He will never love me. Vasquez, thou hast been a too trusty servant to such a master, and I believe thy reward in the end will fall out like mine.

VASQUEZ

              So, perhaps, too.

HIPPOLITA

               Resolve thyself, it will. Had I one so true, so truly honest, so

      130   secret to my counsels, as thou hast been to him and his,4 I should think it a slight acquittance5 not only to make him master of all I have, but even of myself.6

VASQUEZ

              Oh, you are a noble gentlewoman!

HIPPOLITA

              Wilt thou feed always upon hopes? Well, I know thou art wise, and seest the reward of an old servant daily what it is.

VASQUEZ

              Beggary and neglect.

HIPPOLITA

               True, but Vasquez, wert thou mine, and wouldst be private to me and my designs, I here protest, myself, and all what I can else call mine, should be at thy dispose.1

VASQUEZ [Aside]

      140   Work you that way, old mole?2 Then I have the wind of you.3 [Aloud] I were not worthy of it, by any desert that could lie within my compass. If I could –

HIPPOLITA

              What then?

VASQUEZ

              I should then hope to live, in these my old years, with rest and security.

HIPPOLITA

              Give me thy hand. Now promise but thy silence,

              And help to bring to pass a plot I have,

              And here in sight of heaven, that being done,

              I make thee lord of me and mine estate.

VASQUEZ

      150   Come, you are merry!4 This is such a happiness that I can neither think or believe.

HIPPOLITA

              Promise thy secrecy, and ’tis confirmed.

VASQUEZ

               Then here I call our good genii5 for witnesses whatsoever your designs are, or against whomsoever, I will not only be a special actor therein, but never disclose it till it be effected.

HIPPOLITA

              I take thy word, and with that, thee for mine.

              Come, then, let’s more confer of this anon.

              On this delicious bane1 my thoughts shall banquet;

              Revenge shall sweeten what my griefs have tasted.      Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 3

Enter RICHARDETTO [in disguise as the Doctor] and PHILOTIS.

RICHARDETTO

              Thou seest, my lovely niece, these strange mishaps;

              How all my fortunes turn to my disgrace,

              Wherein I am but as a looker-on,

              Whiles others act my shame, and I am silent.

PHILOTIS

              But, uncle, wherein can this borrowed shape

              Give you content?

RICHARDETTO

                           I’ll tell thee, gentle niece:

              Thy wanton aunt in her lascivious riots

              Lives now secure;2 thinks I am surely dead

              In my late journey to Leghorn for you,

        10   As I have caused it to be rumoured out.

              Now would I see with what an impudence

              She gives scope to her loose adultery,

              And how the common voice3 allows hereof:

              Thus far I have prevailed.

PHILOTIS

                                         Alas, I fear

              You mean some strange revenge.

RICHARDETTO

                                                     Oh, be not troubled;

              Your ignorance shall plead for you in all.

              But to our business: what, you learnt for certain

              How1 Signor Florio means to give his daughter

              In marriage to Soranzo?

PHILOTIS

                                            Yes, for certain.

RICHARDETTO

        20   But how find you young Annabella’s love

              Inclined to him?

PHILOTIS

                            For aught I could perceive,

              She neither fancies him or any else.

RICHARDETTO

              There’s mystery in that which time must show.

              She used2 you kindly?

PHILOTIS

                               Yes.

RICHARDETTO

                                                And craved your company?

PHILOTIS

              Often.

RICHARDETTO

                       ’Tis well; it goes as I could wish.

              I am the doctor now, and, as for you,

              None knows you. If all fail not, we shall thrive.

              But who comes here?

Enter GRIMALDI.

                                          I know him. ’Tis Grimaldi:

              A Roman and a soldier, near allied

        30   Unto the Duke of Monferrato, one

              Attending on the Nuncio3 of the Pope

              That now resides in Parma, by which means1

              He hopes to get the love of Annabella.

GRIMALDI

              Save you,2 sir.

RICHARDETTO

                                    And you, sir.

GRIMALDI

                                                 I have heard

              Of your approvèd skill, which through the city

              Is freely talked of, and would crave your aid.

RICHARDETTO

              For what, sir?

GRIMALDI

                                 Marry, sir, for this –

              But I would speak in private.

RICHARDETTO

                                                  Leave us, cousin.3

Exit PHILOTIS.

GRIMALDI

              I love fair Annabella, and would know

        40   Whether in arts4 there may not be receipts5

              To move affection.

RICHARDETTO

                                       Sir, perhaps there may,

              But these will nothing profit you.

GRIMALDI

                                                Not me?

RICHARDETTO

              Unless I be mistook, you are a man

              Greatly in favour with the Cardinal.

GRIMALDI

              What of that?

RICHARDETTO

                                           In duty to his grace,

              I will be bold to tell you, if you seek

              To marry Florio’s daughter, you must first

              Remove a bar ’twixt you and her.

GRIMALDI

                                                     Who’s that?

RICHARDETTO

              Soranzo is the man that hath her heart,

        50   And while he lives, be sure you cannot speed.1

GRIMALDI

              Soranzo? What, mine enemy, is’t he?

RICHARDETTO

              Is he your enemy?

GRIMALDI

                                         The man I hate

              Worse than confusion.2 I’ll kill him straight.

RICHARDETTO

              Nay, then, take mine advice:

              Even for his grace’s sake, the Cardinal,

              I’ll find a time when he and she do meet,

              Of which I’ll give you notice; and to be sure

              He shall not ’scape you, I’ll provide a poison

              To dip your rapier’s point in. If he had

        60   As many heads as Hydra3 had, he dies.

GRIMALDI

              But shall I trust thee, Doctor?

RICHARDETTO

                                                 As yourself;

              Doubt not in aught. [Aside] Thus shall the Fates decree:

              By me Soranzo falls, that ruined me.                  Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 4

Enter DONADO [with a letter], BERGETTO and POGGIO.

DONADO

              Well, sir, I must be content to be both your secretary1 and your messenger myself. I cannot tell what this letter may work, but, as sure as I am alive, if thou come once to talk with her, I fear thou wilt mar whatsoever I make.

BERGETTO

              You make, uncle? Why, am not I big enough to carry mine own letter, I pray?

DONADO

               Ay, ay, carry a fool’s head o’thy own. Why, thou dunce, wouldst thou write a letter and carry it thyself?

BERGETTO

              Yes, that I would, and read it to her with my own mouth; for

        10   you must think, if she will not believe me myself when she hears me speak, she will not believe another’s handwriting. Oh, you think I am a blockhead, uncle! No, sir, Poggio knows I have indited2 a letter myself, so I have.

POGGIO

              Yes, truly, sir. I have it in my pocket.

DONADO

              A sweet one, no doubt. Pray, let’s see’t.

                 [POGGIO hands BERGETTO the letter.]

BERGETTO

              I cannot read my own hand very well, Poggio. Read it, Poggio.

DONADO

              Begin.

POGGIO (Reads)

              ‘Most dainty and honey-sweet mistress, I could call you fair, and lie as fast3 as any that loves you; but my uncle, being the

        20   elder man, I leave it to him as more fit for his age and the colour of his beard.1 I am wise enough to tell you I can board2 where I see occasion; or, if you like my uncle’s wit better than mine, you shall marry me. If you like mine better than his, I will marry you in spite of your teeth.3 So, commending my best parts4 to you, I rest

Yours upwards and downwards, or you may choose,  
Bergetto.’

BERGETTO

              Ah ha! Here’s stuff, uncle!

DONADO

              Here’s stuff, indeed, to shame us all. Pray, whose advice did

        30   you take in this learnèd letter?

POGGIO

              None, upon my word, but mine own.

BERGETTO

              And mine, uncle. Believe it, nobody’s else. ’Twas mine own brain, I thank a good wit for’t.

DONADO

              Get you home, sir, and look you keep within doors till I return.

BERGETTO

              How? That were a jest, indeed. I scorn it, i’faith.

DONADO

              What, you do not?

                  [He threatens to strike him.]

BERGETTO

              Judge me, but I do now.

POGGIO

              Indeed, sir, ’tis very unhealthy.

DONADO

              Well, sir, if I hear any of your apish1 running to motions2 and

        40   fopperies till I come back, you were as good no.3 Look to’t!

                      Exit.

BERGETTO

              Poggio, shall’s steal4 to see this horse with the head in’s tail?

POGGIO

              Ay, but you must take heed of whipping.

BERGETTO

              Dost take me for a child, Poggio? Come, honest Poggio.

Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 5

Enter FRIAR and GIOVANNI.

FRIAR

              Peace! Thou hast told a tale whose every word

              Threatens eternal slaughter to the soul.

              I’m sorry I have heard it. Would mine ears

              Had been one minute deaf before the hour

              That thou cam’st to me! O young man, cast away

              By the religious number5 of mine order,

              I day and night have waked my agèd eyes,

              Above my strength to weep on thy behalf.

              But heaven is angry, and, be thou resolved,

        10   Thou art a man remarked6 to taste a mischief.

              Look for’t; though it come late, it will come sure.

GIOVANNI

              Father, in this you are uncharitable.6

              What I have done I’ll prove both fit and good.

              It is a principle, which you have taught

              When I was yet your scholar, that the frame

              And composition of the mind doth follow

              The frame and composition of the body;

              So where the body’s furniture1 is beauty,

              The mind’s must needs be virtue; which allowed,

        20   Virtue itself is Reason but refined,

              And Love the quintessence2 of that. This proves

              My sister’s beauty, being rarely fair,

              Is rarely virtuous; chiefly in her love,

              And chiefly in that love, her love to me.

              If hers to me, then so is mine to her,

              Since in like causes are effects alike.

FRIAR

              O ignorance in knowledge! Long ago

              How often have I warned thee this before!

              Indeed, if we were sure there were no deity,

        30   Nor heaven nor hell, then to be led alone

              By nature’s light – as were philosophers

              Of elder times – might instance some defence;

              But ’tis not so. Then, madman, thou wilt find

              That nature is in heaven’s positions blind.3

GIOVANNI

              Your age o’er-rules you; had you youth like mine,

              You’d make her love your heaven, and her divine.

FRIAR

              Nay, then, I see th’art too far sold to hell;

              It lies not in the compass of my prayers

              To call thee back. Yet let me counsel thee:

        40   Persuade thy sister to some marriage.

GIOVANNI

              Marriage? Why, that’s to damn her; that’s to prove

              Her greedy of variety of lust.

FRIAR

              O fearful! If thou wilt not, give me leave

              To shrive her,1 lest she should die unabsolved.

GIOVANNI

              At your best leisure, father; then she’ll tell you

              How dearly she doth prize my matchless love.

              Then you will know what pity ’twere we two

              Should have been sundered from each other’s arms.

              View well her face, and in that little round,

        50   You may observe a world of variety:

              For colour, lips; for sweet perfumes, her breath;

              For jewels, eyes; for threads of purest gold,

              Hair; for delicious choice of flowers, cheeks;

              Wonder in every portion of that throne.

              Hear her but speak, and you will swear the spheres

              Make music to the citizens in heaven;2

              But father, what is else for pleasure framed,3

              Lest I offend your ears shall go unnamed.

FRIAR

              The more I hear, I pity thee the more –

        60   That one so excellent should give those parts4

              All to a second death!5 What I can do

              Is but to pray; and yet I could advise thee,

              Wouldst thou be ruled.

GIOVANNI

                                  In what?

FRIAR

                                                      Why, leave her yet.

              The throne of mercy is above your trespass.

              Yet time is left you both –

GIOVANNI

                                            To embrace each other;

              Else let all time be struck quite out of number.1

              She is like me, and I like her, resolved.

FRIAR

              No more; I’ll visit her. This grieves me most:

              Things being thus, a pair of souls are lost.         Exeunt.

ACT 2

Scene 6

Enter FLORIO, DONADO, ANNABELLA [and], PUTTANA.

FLORIO

              Where’s Giovanni?

ANNABELLA

                                                 Newly walked abroad,

              And, as I heard him say, gone to the Friar,

              His reverend tutor.

FLORIO

                                                That’s a blessèd man,

              A man made up of holiness. I hope

              He’ll teach him how to gain another world.

DONADO

              Fair gentlewoman, here’s a letter sent

              To you from my young cousin. I dare swear

              He loves you in his soul. Would you could hear

              Sometimes what I see daily: sighs and tears,

        10   As if his breast were prison to his heart.

                   [He holds out the letter.]

FLORIO

              Receive it, Annabella.

ANNABELLA

                                         Alas, good man.

                     [She takes the letter.]

DONADO

What’s that she said?    

PUTTANA

               An’t please you, sir, she said, ‘Alas, good man’. [Aside to DONADO] Truly, I do commend him to her every night before her first sleep,1 because I would have her dream of him, and she hearkens to that most religiously.2

DONADO [Aside to PUTTANA]

              Say’st so? Godamercy,3 Puttana, there’s something for thee [gives her money]. And, prithee, do what thou canst on his behalf. Sha’ not be lost labour, take my word for’t.

PUTTANA [Aside to DONADO]

              Thank you most heartily, sir. Now I have a feeling4 of your

        20   mind, let me alone to work.

ANNABELLA

              Guardian!

PUTTANA

                           Did you call?

ANNABELLA

                                              Keep this letter.

DONADO

              Signor Florio, in any case bid her read it instantly.

FLORIO

              Keep it for what? Pray, read it me here right.5

ANNABELLA

              I shall, sir.

                    She reads.

DONADO

              How d’ee find her inclined, signor?

FLORIO

              Troth, sir, I know not how; not all so well

              As I could wish.

ANNABELLA

              Sir, I am bound to rest your cousin’s debtor.

              The jewel I’ll return; for if he love,

              I’ll count that love a jewel.

DONADO [Aside to FLORIO]

        30                                Mark you that?

              [Aloud] Nay, keep them both, sweet maid.

ANNABELLA

You must excuse me;

              Indeed, I will not keep it.

FLORIO

                                       Where’s the ring –

              That which your mother in her will bequeathed,

              And charged you on her blessing not to give’t

              To any but your husband? Send back that.

ANNABELLA

              I have it not.

FLORIO

                             Ha? ‘Have it not’? Where is’t?

ANNABELLA

              My brother in the morning took it from me;

              Said he would wear’t today.

FLORIO

                                                    Well, what do you say

              To young Bergetto’s love? Are you content

              To match1 with him? Speak.

DONADO

        40                                          There’s the point, indeed.

ANNABELLA [Aside]

              What shall I do? I must say something now.

FLORIO

              What say? Why d’ee not speak?

ANNABELLA

                                                      Sir, with your leave;

              Please you to give me freedom?

FLORIO

                                                      Yes, you have’t.

ANNABELLA

              Signor Donado, if your nephew mean

              To raise his better fortunes in his match,

              The hope of me will hinder such a hope.

              Sir, if you love him, as I know you do,

              Find one more worthy of his choice than me.

              In short, I’m sure I sha’ not be his wife.

DONADO

        50   Why, here’s plain dealing; I commend thee for’t,

              And all the worst I wish thee is heaven bless thee!

              Your father yet and I will still be friends,

              Shall we not, Signor Florio?

FLORIO

                                                      Yes, why not?

Enter BERGETTO [with his head bandaged] and POGGIO.

              Look, here your cousin comes.

DONADO [Aside]

              O coxcomb, what doth he make here?

BERGETTO

              Where’s my uncle, sirs?

DONADO

              What’s the news now?

BERGETTO

               Save you,1 uncle, save you. You must not think I come for nothing, masters. [To ANNABELLA] And how and how is’t?

        60   What, you have read my letter? Ah, there I tickled you, i’faith.

POGGIO [Aside]

              But ’twere better you had tickled her in another place.

BERGETTO

              Sirrah sweetheart, I’ll tell thee a good jest, and riddle2 what ’tis.

ANNABELLA

              You say you’d tell me.

BERGETTO

               As I was walking just now in the street, I met a swaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me;1 and because he did thrust me, I very valiantly called him rogue. He hereupon bade me draw. I told him I had more wit than so; but when

        70   he saw that I would not, he did so maul me with the hilts of his rapier, that my head sung whilst my feet capered in the kennel.

DONADO [Aside]

              Was ever the like ass seen?

ANNABELLA

              And what did you all this while?

BERGETTO

               Laugh at him for a gull,2 till I see the blood run about mine ears, and then I could not choose but find in my heart to cry, till a fellow with a broad beard3 – they say he is a new-come doctor – called me into his house, and gave me a plaster. Look you, here ’tis. And, sir, there was a young wench washed

        80   my face and hands most excellently. I’faith, I shall love her as long as I live for’t. Did she not, Poggio?

POGGIO

              Yes, and kissed him too.

BERGETTO

              Why, la, now, you think I tell a lie, uncle, I warrant.

DONADO

              Would he that beat thy blood out of thy head had beaten some wit into it, for I fear thou never wilt have any.

BERGETTO

              O uncle, but there was a wench would have done a man’s heart good to have looked on her. By this light, she had a face, methinks, worth twenty of you, Mistress Annabella.

DONADO [Aside]

              Was ever such a fool born?

ANNABELLA

BERGETTO

              Are you so? By my troth, I thank you, forsooth.

FLORIO

              Sure ’twas the Doctor’s niece, that was last day with us here.

BERGETTO

              ’Twas she, ’twas she!

DONADO

              How do you know that, Simplicity?

BERGETTO

              Why, does not he say so? If I should have said no, I should have given him the lie,2 uncle, and so have deserved a dry3 beating again. I’ll none of that.

FLORIO

              A very modest, well-behaved young maid

              As I have seen.

DONADO

                              Is she indeed?

FLORIO

        100                             Indeed

              She is, if I have any judgement.

DONADO

              Well, sir, now you are free. You need not care for sending letters now; you are dismissed. Your mistress here will none of you.

BERGETTO

              No? Why, what care I for that? I can have wenches enough in Parma for half-a-crown apiece, cannot I, Poggio?

POGGIO

              I’ll warrant you, sir.

DONADO

               Signor Florio, I thank you for your free recourse1 you gave for my admittance; and to you, fair maid, that jewel I will give you ’gainst2 your marriage. [To BERGETTO] Come, will

      110   you go, sir?

BERGETTO

              Ay, marry, will I. Mistress, farewell, mistress. I’ll come again tomorrow. Farewell, mistress.

Exeunt DONADO, BERGETTO and POGGIO.

Enter GIOVANNI.

FLORIO

              Son, where have you been? What, alone, alone, still, still?

              I would not have it so. You must forsake

              This over-bookish humour.3 Well, your sister

              Hath shook the fool off.

GIOVANNI

                                          ’Twas no match for her.

FLORIO

              ’Twas not, indeed; I meant it nothing less.

              Soranzo is the man I only like.4

      120   Look on him, Annabella. Come, ’tis supper-time,

              And it grows late.                        Exit FLORIO.

GIOVANNI

              Whose jewel’s that?

ANNABELLA

                                    Some sweetheart’s.

GIOVANNI

                                                       So I think.

ANNABELLA

              A lusty youth, Signor Donado, gave it me

              To wear against my marriage.

GIOVANNI

                                           But you shall not wear it.

              Send it him back again.

ANNABELLA

                                       What, you are jealous?

GIOVANNI

              That you shall know anon, at better leisure.

              Welcome, sweet Night! The evening crowns the day.

Exeunt.

ACT 3

Scene 1

Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.

BERGETTO

POGGIO

              Ay, let him not bob you off2 like an ape with an apple.3

BERGETTO

              ’Sfoot,4 I will have the wench, if he were ten uncles, in despite of his nose, Poggio.

POGGIO

               Hold him to the grindstone, and give not a jot of ground. She hath, in a manner, promised you already.

BERGETTO

              True, Poggio, and her uncle the Doctor swore I should marry her.

POGGIO

        10   He swore, I remember.

BERGETTO

               And I will have her, that’s more. Didst see the codpiece-point5 she gave me, and the box of marmalade?6

POGGIO

               Very well, and kissed you that my chops1 watered at the sight on’t. There’s no way but to clap up2 a marriage in hugger-mugger.3

BERGETTO

              I will do’t; for I tell thee, Poggio, I begin to grow valiant, methinks, and my courage begins to rise.4

POGGIO

              Should you be afraid of your uncle?

BERGETTO

              Hang him, old doting rascal, no! I say I will have her.

POGGIO

        20   Lose no time, then.

BERGETTO

               I will beget a race of wise men, and constables5 that shall cart whores6 at their own charges, and break the duke’s peace ere I have done myself. Come, away!

Exeunt.