Emilia, follow'd by a Page at a distance.
Em.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha! I shall die! ha! ha!
oh! hold me—
Vill.
Here! here! take the Sots Cordial; a little of
the same—read on and live—
(gives her a Letter)
Em.
Ha! ha! ha! This Letter has something in
it! I wish a Lover of mine wou'd write so—I
shou'd like it far beyond your charming Shapes, pretty
Mouths, or all the fine Eyes in the World—
such Compliments are meer Whip-cream to this.
Vill.
You are smitten Emilia!
Em.
Why he writes the finest in the World! and
there's not a Woman in Venice, except your Ladyship,
but wou'd be smitten too—let's see if it be
possible to resist such Eloquence.
(reads)
-- 2 --
Madam,
I love you very much; as a proof of my Sincerity,
I am worth Two hundred thousand Cechines,
and will settle all to reconcile you to the
Name of
ANTONIO.
Vill.
A saucy Fellow!
Em.
Nay then I don't know what you call Civil—
I never saw such a well-bred Letter in my Life. I love
a Banker's inditing! When shou'd one hear a Courtier
say so? I wonder you are not mov'd at it, and a Widow
too!
Vill.
'Tis for that reason! The greatest Happiness
of our Lives, is to have got free from the Mens Dominion
very early; they are all Tyrants—
Em.
If the Piece indeed be as bad as your Pattern.
Vill.
It must be so; all Husbands are the same; Love
makes 'em our Prisoners, and Jealousy our Goalers; so
between these two, a poor Woman has no quiet—
Em.
Till they are dead.
Vill.
Ha! ha! right Emilia; the Grave gives more
People rest, than those it holds—take care you
don't want that comfort.
Em.
I fear it not—because you have burnt your
Mouth, shan't keep me from tasting—I'll venture
upon a Man, in spite of all the Terror about him—in
a Province of Italy too.
Vill.
The worst Place in the World to marry in;
if one wou'd be a Mistress, I shou'd chuse Italy; If a
Wife, England, but a Maid shou'd live in France, for
-- 3 --
there she may have all the Enjoyments of the other two,
and keep her Character.
Em.
Upon such terms indeed one might live a Maid
all ones Life.
Vill.
Ha! ha! without repining at leading Apes hereafter.
Em.
The Curse wou'd be a little moderated.
Vill.
With these Principles, Emilia, you may pass
your time well enough, be your Tyrant ever so much an
Italian; for Love will always be too cunning for Jealousy.
Em.
Nay if he suspected my Virtue, the first thing
I'd do, shou'd be to lose it—If he set a Spy of his
own Sex upon me, as many Husbands do, I'd find a
way to bribe my Keeper, as all Wives do—And
if he lock'd me up—
Vill.
You cou'd have no way left—
Em.
But Imagination—and that shou'd revenge
me every Minute.
Vill.
Spoke like the Spirit of our Sex! I find the Men
will get nothing by opposing us, we are all English
by Nature, and to flatter us, is the best way to enslave
us—But to avoid the hazzard, I'll treat all Men
as I do this Fellow—Page! bear this back to Antonio,
and tell him, if he has the assurance to write
again, I'll have his Ears taken off, and nail'd up in the
Ryalto.
(Exit Page with a Letter)
Em.
Well now cou'd not I for my Heart have sent
such an Answer to a Compliment of 200 thousand—
Why the Duke himself don't say finer things to you.
Vill.
I seldom mind what he says, and the reason
I don't quite put him off, is, because it pleases me
to govern him that governs Venice.
-- 4 --
Em.
I shou'd not venture so far—Beauty's an Empire
that won't last always.
Vill.
As long as I live Emilia—When knew you a
rich Womans Face have any Wrinkles, or a rich Man's
Head any Folly?
Em.
Then the Banker's must be an ingenious one.
Vill.
Name him no more—such a greasy Fellow
next my Stomach, is enough to give me the Spleen all
Day.
Em.
What with so much Gold about him? I'm
told it's the best Cure of it in the World, and brightens
the Complexion—No body has the Spleen but
old Women, and younger Brothers—Say what you
will, Villaretta, a Banker has his Charms.
Vill.
But she that weds for those Charms, may find
her self ne'er the Handsomer.
Em.
I'm strangely deceived then—for tho' they'll give
little, yet they'll trust one with all; and I shou'd
scarce be the first Steward that did not provide for
my self.
Vill.
Nay, you're a States-man's Daughter, and they
never were concern'd in the Government, that can
tell Money and be poor, Cosen.
Em.
But Husbands, I fear, reckon better than the
Publick. And if after ten Years Managery, I shou'd
be so unfortunate to be found out.
Vill.
The Calamity wou'd come too late. The
Steward wou'd be too great for the Lord.
Em.
Yet there wou'd be some little Flaws in our
Character.
Vill.
Not if there were none in your Estate.
Em.
I like your Philosophy extreamly—why this is
Virtue all Woman-kind may follow—But to be grave,
these Men, after all, have made a poor Woman's Conduct
so difficult, that most of our Pleasures clash with
-- 5 --
our Reputation—'tis not so with them; they may do
any thing, and yet be Men of Honour.
Vill.
Those that make Laws will always favour themselves.
They have made their own Honour consist in
Bravery, which is for their advantage; but ours to consist
in Chastity, which is not for ours.
Em.
If we had order'd things, it had been the Mens
part to be Modest, Faithful, Reserved, and hating
every thing they desired, and ours to ha' done what we
please.
Vill.
The World had been much better govern'd
that's certain—Why shou'd a pack of Bald-pated, shriveled
old Fellows, give Laws to us that are young and
handsome?
Em.
So Arbitarily too—They have left us nothing—
but the power of deceiving 'em.
Vill.
And that no body can take from a Woman.
Em.
'Tis pretty well employ'd too—for we look
upon their Ordinances, as a Lawyer does upon a new
Statute, not to mind the intent of it, but to find a hole
to creep out at.
Vill.
Ha! ha! and I have been told that 'tis impossible
to make 'em so binding, but one may find some,
Emilia.
Em.
Ha! ha! yet how can we get over so palpable
a Law, as Wives be true to your Husbands.
Vill.
O! by making them get over as palpable a Condition;
Husbands love your Wives; which now you
know is not the Fashion.
Enter a Foot-man.
Foot.
Madam, The Duke of Venice desires to wait
upon your Ladyship.
-- 6 --
Vill.
Let him stay—I an't at leisure yet—
(Exit Foot.)
This mighty Man, Emilia, comes so often, I shall be
tired with laughing at him—I'll e'en give him his
Answer, as my Woman calls it.
Em.
People might dispence with your leavings, the
Banker, and the Duke; all Woman han't such Lovers
to throw away—
Vill.
All Lovers are alike to me, Emilia, they're Men;
and when a Hypocrite is known, 'tis ridiculous to see
him practice his soft Airs, forc'd Languishments, and
low Bows:
Em.
Soft! here's the Duke.
Vill.
Then for an Instance.
Enter Moreno, bowing very low.
Mor.
Madam, I come to prove Moreno's Fate.
This Day has been propitious to our Race;
My Father on it triumph'd o'er the Turks,
And gain'd the lost Morea to the State.
Moreno's Fortune may be great as his,
If Heaven and Villaretta will be kind.
Vill.
Still upon this Subject, my Lord—? you know
my Mind; that I assure you is not Woman, for it shall
never alter—so no more, my Lord.
Mor.
Yet hear me, Madam, I do not offer you a
Wretch, a Vagabond, an Out-law.
Vill.
No! a Duke of Venice.
(smiling)
Mor.
Madam, I plead no merit from my Fortune;
all Honour vanishes before the Fair; and all are mean
to Villaretta's Eyes.
-- 7 --
Em. (Aside.)
The poor Man is certainly in earnest!
Mor.
Nay, I wou'd for ever quit all Glory, Friends,
the World, if to lose those Trifles, I shou'd gain your
Favour.
Vill.
No promising, my true Lord; but cease this
whining Entertainment, and when we meet, let us
have no Speeches with Sighs at the end of 'em.
Em. (Aside to her)
Well! if he has half so much
Modesty as Passion, I'll answer for your quiet hereafter—
Vill.
No bleeding Heart, soft Sonnet, purling Streams,
nor such like melancholy Things.
Mor. (Aside)
That I cou'd tear the Tyrant from my
Breast. A true Merciless, Insolent—Charming Woman—!
Em. (to Vill.)
Cousen Drances drunk, as I live!
Enter Drances.
Dra.
My Lord, I'm yours.
Mor.
Segnior Drances—
Vill. (Aside)
One Fool is enough at once—
(fretting)
Dra.
What my Cousen in her moods? My Lord,
don't mind her—If you had been as deep in the Cellar
as I have, you wou'd not care a Fig for her—The Jade
is a Virtue, my Lord, and I never knew a Woman
have the least good Nature, that had any Honesty, by
Jupiter.
Em.
I believe, Sir, your Acquaintance are very good
Natured.
Dra.
Well said Coz.! My Lord, I'm no Sinner, if
I had not once a strong Inclination to strain a Commandment
with that fresh colour'd Cousen of mine—She's a
pretty Wench, and Flesh and Blood you know—But
my dear Lord be merry
-- 8 --
Mor.
That from Villaretta, wou'd make me so for
ever.
Vill.
Then I desire it my Lord, and leave you to't for
ever.
(Exeunt Em. and Vill.)
Mor.
She's gone, and all that's happy with her.
Dra.
Let her go, my Lord—Hang these Women,
they're never good Company when there's more than
one Man in the Room with 'em.
Mor.
You're a happy Man, Drances—when shall I
have your Quiet?
Dra.
When you drink like me—Sit but a Hand out,
my Lord—All the Joys in Nature lie in the second
Bottle; your Groves, and Streams, and Nightingales—
and twenty things besides Women with black
Eyes.
Mor.
If Villaretta appear'd there, I'd drink for
ever.
Dra.
Live with me, my Lord, and try—Ha! ha!
my Kinswoman and I, you must know, divide the
House; all under-ground is mine; the whole Region of
Mirth and Claret. I can't look upward without a Trespass—
Ha! ha! I happened to whisper her House-maid,
that I had fallen in love with one Morning at Prayers,
and she sent her to the Devil immediately, for I never
saw her after.
Mor.
Where cou'd you fly for that Day.
Dra.
To the Curate's Comfort, my Lord; a Bottle
and a Pipe; for grief is never eas'd so well, as when
its drown'd; try it my Lord, drink, and remember Villaretta
no more.
Mor. (Sighs)
Dra.
Don't sigh, my Lord, it has a dead Sound,
there's some Musick now in a Hick-up.
-- 9 --
Mor.
What can I do, when Villaretta is so cruel?
Dra.
Do, my Lord! why you go the wrong way to
do any thing with a Widow—
Mor.
If my Love and Services won't recommend me—
Dra.
Potguns! they may do well enough with a
Maid—A Country unus'd to War, and easily surpriz'd;
but a Widow's a fortify'd Town, that has had Enemies
before it, and will never be taken, my Lord, without
you bring down the great Guns upon it.
Mor.
But in Love, Drances, we must all fight like
French-men; if we can't bribe the Governour, we shall
never come at the Garrison.
Dra.
Well, my Lord, to serve you, and to divert
a Mistress of mine—for Cupid has been playing about
the Edges of my Glass, and just put in the tip
of his Arrow—'tis but a slight Wound; Dromia's
Darts han't kill'd out-right—
Mor.
Not these 50 Years: Why you had better
marry your Grand-mother: She'll neither administer
to your Happiness nor Mirth.
Dra.
But she makes the best Water-gruel in the
World—Others marry to have more Care, but I
to be taken care off—The diversion is, I have told
the Butler, (who is a very silly Fellow, my Lord,)
that my Cousin is in Love with him.
Mor.
And how did it move him?
Dra.
As Sack and Sugar does a Midwife—He
lick'd his Lips immediately, and sent for a Taylor to
make him a Gentleman.
Mor.
To make him a Gentleman?
Dra.
Ay, my Lord, they make more in a Year than
the Heralds-Office, or a Welch Genealogist; especially
your pretty Gentlemen are all made so—
Mor.
But how will this serve me?
-- 10 --
Dra.
It will beat down her Pride, the grand Bulwork,
that defends more Women than Virtue—But
follow me into the Cellar, and I'll tell you more—I
never speak well without a Flask under my Arm; for
as the Chaplain says; The Dry are always Dull.
Mor. (Aside)
No body's so fit to keep a Sot Company,
as he that's deny'd Villaretta's.
(Exeunt)
Enter Cæsario and Laura.
Scene changes to the Duke's House.
Cæs.
Prithee Wench lay by thy Fears.
Laur.
Alas! Madam, it grieves me to think that
my Lady must be a Servant, that may be so waited on!
To be a Page, and wear Breeches too!
(weeps)
Cæs.
You talk like a Woman, Laura, I must make
you wear Breeches too, to be less fearful.
Laur.
Oh! dear Madam, ha! ha! your Ladyship
makes me laugh.
Cæs.
This Servitude is Freedom, for it brings me to
the Man I love—The little Spot that holds him, Laura,
is all the Liberty I ask; the World without it is a Prison.
Laur.
Nay, Love is a parlous Thing, I know Madam—
I was troubled with it once, and remember
well I cou'd not sleep a Nights! but it went off in a
Week, for I found he had not Money enough.
Cæs.
Ha! ha! poor Laura! then you'd ha' broke
your Heart for him, if he had had Money enough?
-- 11 --
Laur.
'Twou'd ha' been bad with me I believe; but
when a Sweetheart is poor, Madam, 'tis as hard to Love,
as to be Charitable.
Cæs.
Ha! ha! ha! This Wench will kill me with
her extreme Stupidity! ha! ha!
Laur.
Lord, Madam! you look so like your Brother
when you laugh, and in these Cloaths too, that, I vow,
I can't tell but you are my Master Sebastian, all this
while.
Cæs.
'Twou'd puzzel one of better Sense than thee,
Laura, to distinguish it—for besides our likeness, I
have drest my self as he use to do; but to put you out
of doubt, behold the only apparent difference between
us, this Mole!
(bares her Arm)
Laur.
O my dear Lady Viola! 'tis you, I know it
now—The Duke, Madam, took me with him, to
wait upon his Sister, and I have liv'd here ever since—
I little thought to see your Ladyship my Fellow-servant—!
(weeps)
Cæs.
I'm greater now, than when I was thy Mistress.
Laur.
I hope my Lord is kind to you, for he charges
us all to be so—But, dear Madam, how could you
venture to do this? I'm in a Maze yet!
Cæs.
I'll tell thee all, because thou should'st not
trouble me with more Questions, and because I love
to speak of him.
Laur. (Aside)
That's the truest Reason, I know by
my self.
Cæs.
I saw him first in France, and lov'd him; these
two Years I have lov'd him; unable longer to endure
the torture of my Wishes, I left my Brother, and
-- 12 --
my House, and 6 Days since, without a Servant, landed
here in Venice—
Lau.
Your Ladyship makes me weep again.
Cæs.
I nam'd my self Cæsario, and form'd a Letter,
as from one his Highness knew in Paris, to recommend
me for his Page—Upon it, Laura, he receiv'd me;
lik'd my Person; calls me pretty Youth; makes me
sing to him, and sometimes kisses me.
Lau.
Then you are happy, Madam.
Cæs.
If it were meant me as a Woman; but he kills
me while he makes me happy, for in the midst of all,
he sighs, and talks to me of a Lady that he loves.
Lau.
Nay, then all's marr'd again.
Cæs.
But she is cruel to him, and hates him.
Lau.
That's good again, Madam. Have you seen
this Lady?
Cæs.
No, but he has told me who she is, and designs
to send me with a Message to her.
Lau.
Its like to be done well, if you carry it—But
how can you do any thing for your self, Madam?
'Twill be impossible for him to see a Woman, as they
say, thro' a Pair of Breeches.
Cæs.
No more than thro' a Nun's Habit—When I
find a proper time for my purpose, a little thing will
shew him what I am.
Lau.
I shall die with Joy if it so happens! Your
Ladyship will be happy indeed; for his Highness is
a sort of King here.
Cæs.
Is that to be happy indeed, Laura?
Lau.
O! dear Madam, without question: I admire
a King so much, that I cou'd marry one, that had only
a Twelfth-Cake for his Dominions.
Cæs.
Ha! ha! a small Country! but in Italy you may
find fifty such Princes—Ha! ha! prithee, Laura,
how would'st thou govern thy little Nation?
-- 13 --
Lau.
As Princes (in those Parts) generally do, Madam;
devour as much as I cou'd of it.
Cæs.
You are the first Monarch that ever was so
free.
Lau.
Pardon me, Madam, I forgot I was talking to
your Ladyship.
Cæs.
Nay, then 'tis plain you'd make a good Governour,
for thou seest nothing but what thou look'st upon,
poor Laura!—Hold, I'm call'd, now we must be private
Persons again.
(within,
Cæsario, Cæsario.)
Enter Footman.
Foot.
O! here he is—Sir, the Duke is come home
very much out of Humour, and wants you immediately.
Cæs.
Doest know the Cause of his Disorder?
Foot.
No Sir; he came from the Lady Villaretta's, and
seems to be very sick.
(Exit Foot.)
Cæs.
Hum!—I come.
He must be sicker yet, e'er I am well,
And feel the last Convulsions of Despair—
But Love must work this wonder in his Breast,
And Banish quite that happy Woman thence:
Shew me the soft Avenues to his Heart;
His Soul unruffl'd, every Thought at ease:
A lucky Hour may all my Toils repair,
When I may talk of Love, and he may hear!
Exeunt.
End of the first ACT.
-- 14 --
ACT II.
SCENE opens, and discovers Moreno on a Couch, and Cæsario kneeling by—
Cæsario sings.
I.
If I hear Orinda Swear,
She cures my jealous Smart;
The Treachery becomes the Fair,
And doubly fires my Heart.
II.
Beauty's Strength and Treasure,
In Falshood still remain;
She gives the greatest Pleasure,
That gives the greatest Pain.
(Soft Musick, after which, Moreno rises.)
Mor.
“If Musick be the Food of Love, play on!
“Give me excess of it, that surfeiting
“The Appetite, may sicken, and so die.
But oh! in vain, the pleasing Sounds once o'er
Are lost for ever—! no Memory recalls
The Pleasure past, but that which wounds us lives!
How true a Wretch is Man?
The mute Creation Nature has supply'd,
With Arts and Arms for their Defence and Safety;
The Deer has Horns, and Subtlety the Fox,
-- 15 --
The Porcupine still bears upon his Back.
A Grove of Arrows to distress his Foe;
But the unhappy Lord of all is made,
With Darts turn'd inward on himself,
His own Destroyer.......
His Passions and his Faculties are given,
To war with his own Quiet—Oh Distraction!
Let me embrace thee......
For only they are happy who are Mad!
(Throws himself on the Couch)
Cæs. (Aside)
Alas! I pity his Distress,
Tho' I'm overjoy'd at the occasion—My Lord try to sleep.
Mor.
Poor Cæsario! thou art too young for Cares,
Or thou hadst known, they follow us in Sleep.
Physicians poyson in their Sleep,
Lawyers undoe in their Sleep,
Courtiers get new Grants in their Sleep—
Nothing in Nature's quite at rest,
But the slick Prelate—
Cæs.
Right! my Lord, and the other Sex have their
Fancies too—Old Women Back-bite and Pray in their
Sleep; Young-ones Sigh and Dance in their Sleep;
and Maids of thirty set up for Virtue, and Dress in
their Sleep.
Mor.
Pretty Boy! Thy Manners are so soft, thy
Sense so quick at every turn; thou should'st be older
than thou seem'st to be—Hast ever been in Love?
Cæs.
A little my Lord—
Mor.
'Tis that has form'd thy Mind,
For Love, the kind refiner of the Soul,
Softens harsh Nature's Work, and tempers Man:
Without it, all are Salvages—
What sort of Woman?
Cæs.
One very like your Lordship.
Mor.
By so much the less meriting—Did she love you?
Cæs.
She kist me often, and told me so, but did not love
me.
-- 16 --
Mor.
Trust 'em no more, they're all—
Cæs.
O! hold, my Lord, some are Just, and Love as
well as we. “My Father had a Daughter lov'd a Man,
“As it might be, perhaps, were I a Woman,
“I shou'd your Highness.
Mor.
And what's her Story?
Cæs.
“A Blank, my Lord—She never told her Love,
“But let Concealment, like a Worm i'th' Bud,
“Feed on her Damask Cheek—
—She languish'd long,
Courting the Shade, the Night still found her weeping,
Nor cou'd the Sun e'er dry her Tears away,
'Till pining with distressful Melancholy
“She sate like Patience on a Monument, smiling at Grief.
Reduced to these extreams, at last I—
(She blushes)
Mor.
How's that, Cæsario?
Cæs.
I don't—you forget, my Lord, to send me
to the Lady.
(shewing a Letter)
Mor.
Right! my dear Boy, go bear it to her now,
And plead thy self the Cause of Love and Me;
Thou hast a soft insinuating Way,
May sooth her Anger, and delude her Scorn.
But if her People shou'd deny thee entrance—
Cæs.
I warrant ye, my Lord, I get admittance;
I'll Storm the House, and Beat the Servants; my
Youth, and your Indulgence will protect me.
Mor.
Nay; Women, Children, and Priests, they
say, can affront no body, so thou art safe.
Cæs.
O! very safe, my Lord, doubly safe.
Mor.
Dear Cæsario, take this and prosper, (kisses her)
Urge my Passion to her, and my Faith.
Cæs.
As zealously, as if your Favour depended on
the Success; and if Fortune is but kind—
Mor.
Invoke thy own good Stars, for I have none.
Cæs.
Most faithfully, my Lord, and hope this Affair
will be govern'd by 'em.
(Exeunt severally)
-- 17 --
Scene changes to Villaretta's
Enter Villaretta, Emilia, and Dromia, (taking her leave)
Dro.
Nay, pray Ladies! Not a Step for me—
I'm gone in a moment.
(turns and returns)
Vill.
We will see you to the Stairs, Madam.
Dro.
I beseech your Ladyship—Nay good Lady Emilia.
Em.
Pray Madam—
Dro.
You make me rude—Your Servant—Oh! dear—
pray—My Service to Segnior Drances.
(Exit Dro.)
Vill.
Ha! ha! this old Woman is the very Pink of
Breeding, by her excess of Civility, she shou'd ha' been
bred a Manteau-maker.
Em.
She thinks it the Character of Age to be Austere,
and therefore hurries her poor Bones about, tho' they rattle
as much as if they were already made into Dice.
Vill.
My Service to Segnior Drances! Ha! ha! I always
told you, that this old Fool had still a smatch of 15 about her.
Em.
And will carry't to her Grave, except our merry
Kinsman reels into her Arms.
Vill.
His Liquor 'll defend him, for drunken Men, they
say, come by no harm.
Em.
It may be a good—she'll cure his Intemperance,
my Life for't.
Vill.
She may be mistaken in her Remedy—! I have
known People of her Age, marry with hopes of working
strange Cures upon their Husbands.
Em.
And how did they succeed?
Vill.
As other Physitians, they grew their greatest
Disease.
Em.
Which wou'd last all their Lives too perhaps—
Well! methinks Marriage shou'd end just when People
began to hate one another.
Vill.
At that rate you'd have few last longer than a
monthly Rose.
Em.
If it smells sweet for the time, its well enough—I'd
fain have the Men make one Law that we like.
-- 18 --
Enter a Footman.
Foot.
Madam, a young Gentleman at the Gate desires
to speak with you—He is very importunate, tho' we
told him you wou'd not be seen.
Vill.
What sort of Person?
Foot.
A very handsome Youth.
[Enter 2d Footman.]
2d Foot.
There's a Gentleman at the Gate, Madam,
that swears he must speak with you, and will speak with
you—I told him, you were sick; he says he is a
Doctor, and came to cure you; I said you were asleep, he
knows that too, and comes to wake you: I don't know
what to say to him, he's prepar'd against all Denials.
Vill.
Hum! Tell him he shan't speak with me.
2d Foot.
I have, Madam, but he says he'll bring his
Bed to the Door, and Live there till he does
Vill.
A merry Fellow!
1st Foot.
He'll speak with your Ladyship in spite of
your Teeth.
Vill.
I'll disappoint him—Bid him come in.
1st Foot.
Come in, Madam?
Vill.
Yes, Impertinent.
(Exeunt Footmen)
Some Message from his Highness!
Em.
Taken his Bed, and desires to see you before he
dies! For after such a Repulse, he can't in Gallantry live
above two Hours.
Vill.
Ha! ha! ha! There is nothing so ill-laid, as a
Lover's-Plot—no body's surpriz'd in it, but those that
wou'd be taken—Ha! ha! Well! Emilia, the happyest
Woman in the World, is she that's a little Handsome;
no Fool; and that never loves.
[Enter Cæsario]
Ha! a handsome Youth.
Cæs.
My Business is with the Lady of the House
Vill.
Then you may tell it me, Sir.
Cæs. (Aside)
I'm lost! She's beautiful indeed—! I
shan't be able to speak to her—
Em. (to Vill.)
A pretty blushing Boy!
-- 19 --
Cæs. (Aside)
But Woman assist me—I'll belie my
Heart, and look pleas'd.
Vill.
A very silent Embassy! Sir, my Servants told me
you had a Tongue.
Cæs.
O! Madam, and a Heart, and Hands, and Legs,
and all at your Ladyship's Service.
Vill.
Then, Sir, pray employ the most impertinent of
'em, and tell me your Business.
Cæs.
Never apprehend my Tongue, Madam, 'tis as
glib as a Woman's, and when once well in, will never lie
still—so take a Husband's care not to set it a going.
Vill. (to Em.)
I don't know what's the matter, but
I can't be angry with this saucy Boy—Then, Sir, I must
not know the Business
Cæs.
Yes, Lady, you must know, but only you must
know it—I must have you by your self, without a Witness.
Em.
I go—
Vill.
Hold—Why, Sir, is it Treason?
Cæs.
You prophane it with the comparison. Treason's
a Prostitute, the Chat of every Table; but this, Madam, is
secret as Maiden-wishes, I scarce can trust it with my self.
Vill.
Emilia, I beg you to retire a little then, and let
this impertinent Boy have his way.
(Exit Em.)
Cæs.
Most bountiful Lady! were you as indulgent to
Merit, as you are to Curiosity, this trouble had not been.
Vill.
Well, Sir, the Business in as few Words as you can.
Cæs.
Nay, Madam, I must use more Words than I
wou'd to tell it you.
Vill.
Riddles—!
Cæs.
I come from a Lover to you.
Vill.
Thou art as impertinent, as if thou wert one thy self.
Cæs.
But this Letter must speak first.
Vill. (opens it)
Here, Sir, the last Word is all I value
in't, and not value in it, so take it agen—You, I suppose
then, are his Page?
Cæs.
Yes, Madam, and so have a Charter to be impudent.
-- 20 --
Vill. (Aside)
'Tis impossible to be out of humour with
this Youth—What does the Boy look at?
Cæs.
To see if all be Nature that I see.
Vill.
All in grain, I assure you Sir.
Cæs.
“And will you lead these Graces to the Grave,
and leave the World no Copy?”
Vill.
By no means, Sir, I'll have 'em inventori'd out,
when I die, and added as a Label to my Will, that every
one may know what I was possest of.
Cæs.
Some know it too well already.
Vill.
Prithee, who are they?
Cæs.
Why your Ladyship, and my Lord.
Vill.
You put those together, that shall never come together.
Cæs.
Nay, Madam, I wou'd not put you together, Heaven
knows! And yet I must tell you, that he loves you
to that degree—
Vill. (Aside)
I love to hear him talk, tho' one I hate
is the Subject—To what degree, Sir?
Cæs.
Why he talks of nothing but Villaretta, Dreams of
nothing but Villaretta—He Swears, and Smiles, Frets,
and Dances like a French-man, in a Fit of the Spleen—
Then he thinks all the World Fools for being unconcern'd,
but they, in return, think as oddly of him—there's all
the World to one, Madam!
Vill.
Do you laugh at your Master?
Cæs.
No, Madam, I only laugh at a Mad-man, that
raves of Villaretta—My Master must not be one that loves
you—When he sighs for you, I'm discharg'd, but when
he rails at you, I'm his humblest Servant.
Vill.
Why you and I are of a Mind! I shou'd bear him
too, if he hated me, for I do him most constantly.
Cæs.
I wou'd not trust you—A Woman's Resolution
is no more to be depended on, than a Man's Oath.
Vill. (Aside)
I'm extremely pleas'd with this Youth—!
Harky'e, Sir, what Country are you? What Parentage?
Cæs.
“Above my Fortunes, yet my State is well;
“I am a Gentleman, my Name Cæsario—
-- 21 --
But my Master, Lady, is the Theme; you shou'd enquire
how he rested... How he looks.. And drop a little Pity on
his Wounds... This, were I the Duke of Venice, I shou'd
expect.
Vill.
You might.... (Aside) What am I doing—! But tell
your Master, I detest his Passion; so let him trouble me
no more, except, Sir, you'll call again, to tell me how he
takes it... In the mean time, for your trouble, pray accept
of this...
(offers a Purse, &c.)
Cæs. “(putting away her Hand)
I am no fee'd Post,
Madam, you misplace your Bounty—“My Master,
not my self, wants recompence.”
(Exit.)
Vill.
Triumphant Honesty! What is this Youth?
Above my Fortunes, yet my State is well;
I am a Gentleman—
For that, fair Youth, thou need'st no Herauld—That
Tongue! That Face! That Spirit above Gain! cou'd
not be born of vulgar Parents—!
Tho' he has left me, yet he is not gone,
I feel him in my Breast dispensing Laws,
And all within me pleas'd with his Commands.
But hold... He does not know it—Something I must do,
or I may lose him... But Villaretta's Youth and Fortune
need not fear a disappointment... Yet to be sure.... here!
Enter Servant.
Run after that same saucy Youth, the Duke's Page.... He
calls himself Cæsario... He threw this Ring at my Feet, as
he went out, and left it, whether I would or not; pray
give it him again, and tell him, I shall be very angry if
he plays these Tricks with me... He may, perhaps, have
the Confidence to deny it; but be sure you leave it; and if
he has any thing to say for himself, to excuse what he has
done, you may bid him call to Morrow.
Serv.
I will, Madam.
(Exit Servant)
Vill.
I do I do'nt know what, and am asham'd, but
Love must hide the blushes that he makes.
(Exit)
-- 22 --
Scene changes to the Ryalto.
Enter Rodoregue, Sebastian, and Pedro.
Rod.
Dear Sebastian, (tho' unknown to me before this
Voyage, yet since our common Calamity has made us
one, let me call you so) add not to the Miseries the Sea
has caus'd, by being sad.
Seb.
Captain, your Friendship wou'd make me forget
any Loss—But a Sisters!
Rod.
Since that may possibly not be,
Diffide not in the Powers that guard her Life.
Seb.
What hope can there remain? I follow'd her
flight so close, that in a few Hours we came up with the
Vessel, in which, I was assur'd, she went; but before we
had hail'd 'em, a Storm arose, that separated us; I saw
that Vessel sink, and the Plank on which you found me,
was all that was left of ours.
Rod.
And why might not some kind Plank remain for
her? Suspend your Sorrow for a while; and since she was
bound for Venice.....
Tho' I'm proclaim'd a Traytor to the State,
Yet I have Friends here that I can command;
They shall imploy all Venice in the Search,
And serve our present Wants, Sebastian.
Pedro, (Aside)
I'm glad to hear there may be Eating
towards—
Seb.
Rodoregue! You oppress me with your Generosity.
You left your stated Course to succour me;
And tho' your Ship by my ill Stars was lost,
Yet here you follow to another Shipwrack,
More dreadful than the last.
Rod.
Think not of that, my Friend,
I fear no harm, while I can serve Sebastian;
These Weeds, and your good Genius, will protect me.
Ped.
Sir, Sir, there's a Lady that takes particular notice
of you.
[Enter Villaretta, and passes over the Stage]
Rod.
I know her, she's a Widow, the greatest Fortune
in Venice.
-- 23 --
Ped. (Aside)
Good! This may be a lucky Adventure—
Seb.
She mistakes me for another.
Ped.
Ah! Sir, that's Grief makes you think so—But a
Woman never looks kindly upon a Man by mistake, Sir,
if she had lookt upon me so, it shou'd ha' been no mistake.
Seb.
Cou'd not all that salt Water cure your Impertinence,
Rascal!
Rod.
Let him alone, honest Pedro—If you'll take a
turn in these Walks, I'll try the temper of my Friends—
In the mean time, lest you should have occasion for Money,
take this Purse, and use it as your own; 'tis all I sav'd
from the merciless Storm.
Seb.
This Rodoregue—
Rod.
No Words, Sebastian, with a Man so proud to
serve you; Fortune has made amends for her ill Nature,
since by it she has given me an opportunity of knowing
you.
(Exit Rodoregue)
Seb.
This Generous Fellow confounds me more than
my ill Fortune—
(looking on the Purse)
Ped.
Talk not of ill Fortune, Sir, with such a Mark of
her Favour—I cou'd no more grieve, than be sober, with
all that about me—I wish he had told you too, Sir, where
that rich Widow lives, for I long to be serving your Honour
by Land.
Seb.
Pray, Sir, let me have no more of your Familiarities—
Wait here till I return, Hang-Dog!
(Exit Seb.)
Ped.
Very pretty—! When we were sinking, it was,
Good Pedro! Dear Pedro! Segnior Pedro! Is there any
Hopes—? He knew Death made all People alike, and
thought fit to be acquainted with me, when he found we
were near it—If I cou'd but hang my self now, I shou'd
be as great as Alexander—But I don't love Preferment at
that rate neither—What is there in this Sebastian more
than in me? He can afford to be Idle, Game, and Wench
more than I—But I love it as well—I was certainly got
by a great Man, for I han't one of your Tradesmanly Virtues,
of Cheating, Lying, and good Husbandry—So I'll
-- 24 --
e'en get rid of this whimsical Master of mine, and push
my Fortune.
(Exit Strutting)
Enter Cæsario, follow'd by Villaretta's Footman at a distance.
Foot.
Here he is—! Now what Trick will he have to
get off—? Sir, Sir.
Cæs.
What's your business, Friend?
Foot.
My business, Sir, is with your Worship's little
Finger.
Cæs.
What does the Fellow mean?
Foot. (Aside)
Ha! ha! right! He knows nothing of
the matter—Why, Sir, I have brought an old Acquaintance
of it here, that's all, that you left with my Lady Vil.
Cæs.
A Ring—! (Aside) What can this mean—! I left
no Ring, Friend, and none will I receive.
Foot.
Ha! ha! ha! Right again—(Aside) My Lady
said, Sir, that you wou'd have the Modesty to disown it,
ha! ha—! But to advise you as a Friend, Sir, you must
lay your Baits better, or you'ill catch no Fish in our
Ponds—There, Sir, take it; so you threw it, and so it is
return'd—(going, and returns) I forgot one thing,
Sir, she says, if you can excuse your doings, you may call
to morrow, but your Ring-plots won't take, Sir, ha! ha!
ha! (Aside) Left no Ring—A Rogue!
(Exit)
Cæs. (takes up the Ring)
Ha! A rich Brillon! What's
her Design—? Now I reflect, she view'd me with uncommon
Curiosity: Pray Heaven, my Out-side has not
charm'd her—! It must be so—How easily a Woman is
deceiv'd, when the Deluder's Man—! Poor Lady! You
had better take the Lord you hate into your Arms, than
me—You'll lose your Lover when you find him, and like
the rest of the World, when you have got your Happiness,
be farthest from it.
On this alone depends most Human Bliss,
When kindly Heaven forbids us what we Wish.
End of the second ACT.
-- 25 --
ACT III.
Enter Emilia, Dromia, and Drances.
Dra.
Here! Here! Fix your selves behind the
Arras, and summon all the Malice of your
Sex to keep you from laughing.
Em.
O! Fear us not, we're too well pleas'd with your
Plot, to interrupt it.
Dro.
I'm charm'd with it! Why you'll reconcile us
to your Liquor, if these are the effects on't.
Dra.
That wou'd be too condescending, Madam, for
Claret is infinitely smaller than Tea.
Em.
Nay, now you're rude Cousen.
Dro.
I can forgive Segnior Drances greater Crimes.
Dra.
Oh! Madam—! But your Ladyship is so charming,
and withal so good; that I take an infinite delight
to exercise your Mercy.
Dro.
And they that cou'd withold it from you, must
not have a Breast like mine.
Em. (Aside)
A loving old Woman, is worse than a
hopeful old Man. Ha! ha! to languish at Sixty! I'd as
soon pray at Sixteen.......
Dro.
But is it possible you cou'd perswade him to think
she has a Passion for his Person?
Dra.
Retire but a moment, Madam, and you'll see,
for I hear him coming.
Em.
If he shou'd come to lose his Place for his Love,
this Business wou'd end too cruelly.
Dra.
I have a Salvo for that, Coz. It shall be nothing
but Mirth—So along.
Dro.
Nothing but Mirth, I'll engage.
(they go behind the Scenes)
[Enter Taquilet.]
Dra.
Taquilet!
-- 26 --
Taq.
Dear Segnior Drances! I'm so overjoy'd at the
greatness of my good Fortune, that I have quite forgot
the unlikelyhood of its being true.
Dra.
There is none, Taquilet—Women have had their
Freaks in all Ages, Læda fell in Love with a Swan; Europa
with a Bull; and can a Lady be disgrac'd with a Butler?
Taq.
Not in the least Segnior! And I'll give her the
best of my Cellar, I warrant—Nay, I have Noble Blood
in my Veins too, for my Father had a Velvet-Pall at his
Funeral.
Dra.
She knows it, Man—Besides, did not my Lady
Brawn marry her Coach-man, and the divorc'd Lady
Spare-none, an Attorney's-Clerk?
Taq.
Ha! ha! Right! Little Segnior, my merry Cousen,
that must be—I'm resolv'd when I am marry'd, to
do something for you.
Dra.
Dear—(Aside) Rascal.
Taq.
But I'm afraid you have too much Wit to make
a great Man—Yet I'll prefer you, and make you my Secretary
the first Dash, for I can't write my self.
Dra.
Oh! A Man of your Quality will be above it.
Taq.
That must be true, for the very Expectation of
Greatness, has spoil'd me for Business, and now if I an't a
Gentleman, I shall be fit for nothing—But, dear Segnior!
Cousen, I mean, how must I behave my self before the
Priest?
Dra.
Puh! That will happen as it does at other Weddings;
you'll look as if you were taking Orders, and
she'll look as if she was taking Physick.
Taq.
So all our Lives after will be Preaching and Spewing?
Dra.
Ha! ha! Why you have been marry'd already,
Taquilet?
Taq.
Never, by the Mass! But I love to know.
Dra.
There is but one Rule after—And that is, when
your Wife has the Spleen, she has been disappointed abroad;
but when she strokes your Cheeks, and is very
loving, you're a Monster, dear Taquilet!
-- 27 --
Taq.
Why then a Man may tell to half an Hour when
he's a Cuckold, by the increase of his Wives good Nature
to him?
Dra.
Right, Taquilet! And 'tis a Discovery you shou'd
pray for—For your honest Woman is Proud! Insolent!
Sickly! and full of Noise, to balance that one good Quality
of being Chast! But your other is Civil, good Natur'd,
Quiet, and without Doctors, to make amends for one ill
Quality that you never see.
(a Knocking without)
Taq.
Ha! Who's that?
Dra.
If it shou'd be some Rival?
[Enter Cæsario]
Taq.
A Rogue in Red! There must be mischief—A
handsome Dog too!
Cæs.
I must speak with the Lady of the House.
Dra.
What's your business, Friend?
Cæs.
Sir, my business no body must know but her self,
and her I must speak with.
Dra.
Sure you're some Italian Prince in Disguise, or
English Esquire, you strut so?
Taq. (Aside)
I must send this Fellow a going—Sir,
you can't do your business then, for my Lady is busy!
Has taken Physick! And is fast asleep! And I'll tell you
presently whether she is not gone out.
(Exit, and returns)
Cæs. (Aside)
A very whimsical Family—!
Taq.
Sir, my Lady says, she can't be spoke with, and
is not at home.
Cæs.
Ha! ha! Then, Sir, I'll just tell her Ladyship,
that I'm sorry I cou'd not meet with her, and go.
Dra.
Hold, Sir, not without our leave.
Taq. (getting behind Drances)
No, Sir, not without
our leave, as Segnior Drances says.
Cæs.
Here she comes! Now Gentlemen without your
leave.
[Enter Villaretta]
Vill.
How's this! Who taught you this Insolence!
(to Taq.)—Sir, I'll ask Pardon for my Kinsman's Folly,
in the other Room.
(Exeune Vil. and Cæs.)
-- 28 --
Taq.
Segnior—! If my Lady was so in love with me,
as you say, she's strangely alter'd!
Dra.
Puh! All Women change, and at all times; so
'tis but to knock that young Fellow o'th' Head, and she'll
come about agen, Man.
Taq.
If it be so, Segnior, I have a Toledo in my Trunk
shall do his business; for I'm a Spaniard by Nature, and
can't live without a Sword and a Snuff-box.
Dra.
Then you may use both, that is, blind him first,
and fight him after.
Taq.
Right, Segnior, there's nothing like Stratagem in
War—So march on to the Enemy.
(Exeunt)
[Re-enter Cæsario, and Villaretta, (a Couch)]
Cæs.
Madam, my only business now is, to restore this
Ring, an idle Servant threw it me; and thus I give it
back.
(offers it scornfully)
Vill. (takes it hastily)
He that refuses it, deserves it not!
Cæs.
Nay, Lady, all merit I wou'd want before you:
I came to plead my Master's, not my own.
Vill. (Aside)
Scorn'd by a Boy!
I wou'd resume my self, and stifle this fond Flame;
But Love forbids.
The little Tyrant baffles all our Reason;
And none can feel the Smart, and hide the Wound!
With a mysterious Cruelty he reigns,
That covers still the Innocent with shame;
The injur'd wear the Tokens of the Guilty,
And falsely here, the Murder'd blushes,
Not the Murderer—!
Yet who can look on him, and blame me?
Cæs.
Lady, I find this Ring amuses you, wore it any
Charm that my returning has destroy'd?
Vill.
Perhaps it did—And a Charm!
Against which the Base alone cou'd be secure.
-- 29 --
Cæs.
Then I thank my Baseness! I am not the first that
have been made happy by Vices—But, dear mysterious
Lady, tell me what you mean?
Vill.
Look on my Face, and you may read my Breast.
Cæs. (kneeling)
Ah! Madam, if I have any interest there—
Vill.
Ha! You have! Speak on—!
Cæs.
I bring a Heart big with tenderness for you, that
lives upon your Looks, and knows no Joy but in beholding
you!
Vill. (takes her by the Hand, and kneels too)
O! charm
me on, Fair Youth—! Thy Words than Hybla drops more
sweet. Infuse new Life into my Soul—Where! O!
Where! has all this cruel Kindness lain?
Cæs.
In Lord Moreno's Bosom.
Vill. (rising quick)
Traytor! What say'st thou?
(Aside) Under how soft Disguise will Villany lie hid?
I'm distracted! I cou'd kill him! A Slave! A Monster—!
A Man—!
(in a low Voice)
Cæs.
I beg for him—What if obtain'd kills me......
Vill.
Ha! What say'st thou, Youth?
(soothingly)
Cæs.
Too much, if you have heard any thing.
Vill.
Fear not to speak, you speak before your Friend.
Cæs.
I shall betray the Cause I come to plead—I dare
not speak.
Vill.
Forgive me Sir, I misinterpreted your Carriage—
Then it is only fear of his Success distracts yon?
Cæs.
Nothing else, I assure you.
Vill. (takes her Hand)
I'm happy yet—!
That Jealousy is kind as it is groundless.
O! Let me here unfold my Bosom to you,
Shew you the Secret of my Soul, my pleasing Cares—
And tenderest Wishes—!
Despise not, gentle Youth, a Victory
That cost so little—to you of all Mankind,
An easy Victory—!
-- 30 --
Cæs. (Aside)
Poor Lady—!
Vill.
Hide a Woman's Blushes—Turn not from me,
nor upbraid me with your Eyes—
Cæs. (Aside)
I pity her, yet dare not help her.
Vill.
Here! Look on this, it is my Picture—That does
not blush, but may grow pale, if you shou'd use it as you
did the Ring.
Cæs.
I will not, Madam, for I'll not receive it, nor
must I hear you more.
(Exit running)
Vill.
Ha! Inhuman! You surely suck'd a Tygress,
And with the Milk, its cruel Nature drew!
—I cannot curse him—Fare thee well!
Such Charms, the coldest Bosom wou'd betray:
“A Fiend like thee, might bear my Soul away!
(lies down on the Couch)
Em.
Ha! ha! ha! Villaretta!
(Enter Emilia)
Vill.
Who's that?
Em.
The happiest Woman in the World, is she that is a
little handsome, no Fool, and that never loves, ha! ha! ha!
Vill.
Don't triumph, good Emilia.
Em.
You'll own then, that a Woman's Resolution to
avoid Men, lasts no longer than she can meet with one
that she likes.
Vill.
Any thing! I'll own her Piety, her Vertue, lasts
no longer, if you'll spare me now.
Em.
You need not fear Quarter from a Heart of Seventeen.
Like you, the Pains of mighty Love I've known,
And learn to pity Woes so like my own.
Vill.
Generous Emilia! You see Love laughs at all our
good Purposes, and will be obey'd in spite of Pennances
and Cloysters.
Em.
Ay! We can't Diet it away! 'Tis a Fever of the
Mind, that all the Water-gruel in the World won't prevent—
But how deep is your Wound?
Vill.
Mortal! Except he that gave it me will search it.
Em.
So much Beauty, and so much Gold too, Villaretta
may despair of nothing amongst Men.
-- 31 --
Vill.
'Twill make 'em do any thing but that indeed in
all Countries; you may bribe a Dutch-man to fight a Spaniard
to forge, and an Enlish-man to betray his Country;
but for Love, Emilia, there is no Bribe, and the Affections
are always honest.
Em.
You may bribe 'em to flatter you, and that's better.
Vill.
How! Than to love in earnest! Sigh for you indeed!
And value none but you?
Em.
Infinitely! For when a Fellow loves in earnest,
he does a thousand sottish things, out of his impertinent
Care of you; whereas, Flattery has all the good Breeding
of Love, without the Folly, then you may part too without
the Tears and Convulsions of your true Lovers.
Vill.
Puh! Every thing is in the power of a gay Humour—
But Satyr, Emilia, is the Vice of Wit, as Bullying
is of Courage; the Love it abuses, wou'd teach it to be
Gentle! Good-natured! Kind! Sincere—! That only
Cordial-drop that sweetens Life, and gives us Joys which
are ally'd to Heaven.
For all we know of what they do above,
Is that they Sing, and that they Love.
Em.
Ha! ha! ha! To be told that Villaretta talk'd thus!
I shou'd as soon suspect a Priest wou'd Preach against
Pluralities, a Physitian against Atheism, or a Woman hate
Detraction—! You that use to laugh at all Lovers, to become
one!
(Sings)
Cloe met Love for his Psiche in Fears,
She play'd with his Dart, and smil'd at his Tears,
Till feeling at length the Poyson it keeps;
Cupid he smiles! and Cloe she weeps!
Vill.
This is some amends for your ill Nature—Well!
There is nothing so right, and since you know my Grief,
you must assist me in the Remedy.
-- 32 --
Em.
The properest Person in the World to advise with
for your true Physitian, shou'd always have felt the Diseases
he's to cure.
Vill.
That wou'd make 'em fit for nothing, but to give
Physick which might not be so proper.
Exeunt.
Enter Drances, and Taquilet.
Dra.
I told you, Courage, as well as Truth, lay in the
second Bottle; and there's no other way [illeg.] the Duello,
Taquilet—What lose your Mistress for a prick in the Guts!
Taq.
Not I, Segnior, if you'll stand by me.
Dra.
As faithfully as if thou wert a Hogshead of Claret—
I'll never stir while there's a drop of Red within
thee—Here he comes.
[Enter Cæs.]
Cæs.
They talk of fighting, I'm afraid to go by 'em.
Taq. (Aside)
That damn'd Red-coat startles me—He
looks so like Murder, that I can think of nothing but
boil'd Hearts, and Throats cut from Ear to Ear.
Dra.
What, a Qualm already?
Taq.
Not in the least, Segnior! I was only thinking
if I shou'd kill this Rascal, in the height of my Rage,
'twou'd grieve me to be hang'd for him—This cursed
Law is what I fear.
Dra.
When you're marry'd, you'll be too rich for the
Law, Taquilet—! Justice, and the foul Disease, hurts no
body but the Poor—! Come, I'll give him the Lie by way
of Challenge.
Taq.
Hold, Segnior, don't be uncivil neither.
Dra. (going up to Cæs.)
Sir—
Cæs.
Have you any business with me, Sir,
Dra.
I come to tell you, Sir, that if you value your
Life, be upon your guard.
Cæs.
S—S—Sir!
Dra.
Unkennel Bilboe out of hand—For thy Adversary
gives no Quarter.
-- 33 --
Cæs.
You mistake, Sir, no body has a Quarrel to me,
for I have wrong'd no Man.
Dra.
If you had, Sir, he'd ha' went to Law with you—
But he fights because he does not know whether he's
wrong'd or not.
Cæs.
Sir, I am no Fighter; and if this business goes on,
must beg Protection of the Lady of the House.
Dra.
I'll see what he says. (goes to Taq.) Come,
Taquilet, cock thy self at him, and advance. Tho' he's
a damn'd Dog at single Rapier, and can hit 'ye within
a Hairs bredth of the left Pap a thousand times together.
Taq.
The Devil he can! I feel his Sword already quite
thro' my Midriff—A Son of a Whore!
Dra.
But I told him such things of you, that have abated
his Courage, and he desires only that you'd favour
him with one Parry, just to save his Honour.
Taq.
Rot his Honour, and his Oath too: Z'bud, he'll
mind it no more than one that takes it to save an Employment.
Dra.
Never think it, a Soldier's Promise—
Taq.
Is like his Religion, which is not to save himself,
but to ruin others.
Dra.
Why, he lives by his Honour.
Taq.
As a Whore by her Love, that is, by pretending
to love, for as soon as she does it in earnest, she starves.
Cæs. (Aside)
I have over-heard 'em, and that Fellow
is certainly as great a Coward as my self. I have half a
mind to try.
Dra.
Frown a little, I say, and look dreadful.
(to Taq.)
Cæs. (Aside)
I can but ask Pardon at last. ? draws)
Villain look to your Life—
Taq. (runs over Dra.)
O Lord! The Devil! I'm kill'd—
Cæs.
Ha! ha! ha! I thought they wou'd not fight,
there was so much Preparation.
Dra. (getting up)
This Rascals fear will infect me,
(draws) Come then—
Cæs.
S—S—Sir!
(trembling)
-- 34 --
Dra.
Since my Friend is not in humour to divert you,
Sir, I will—Come on Sir.
Cæs. (kneels)
O good Sir don't kill me, I can't fight!
Taq.
How's that? (draws) A Rascal, to draw
upon me, and not fight—Death! and Canon-bullets!
Let me come at him—(Aside) If the Dog shou'd
not be in earnest, after all—
Cæs. (rising)
Sir, I'll beg your Pardon for any thing I
have done, but pray don't kill me.
Taq.
Coward! What could'st expect, after affronting
a Man of my Courage, but to be run thro' the Body, and
have thy Skin pull'd over thy Ears.
[Enter Rodoregue]
Rod.
My Friend opprest!
(draws)
Taq. (Aside)
O Lord! I'm a dead Man yet.
(jumps back)
Rod.
If this young Gentleman has offended you, I'll
do you Justice for him.
Taq. (Aside)
My Heart's sunk into my Heel.
Dra.
You, Sir? Why who are you?
Rod.
One, whose Friendship for him is more than
Words, for I wou'd risque my Life in any danger that
might threaten his.
Cæs.
This Obligation, Sir, is more surprizing, as it is
unmerited, and gives me greater Pain for my Safety, than
I had for my Distress—How shall I repay so infinite a
Goodness.
Rod.
You more than do.
Dra.
Come on then, Sir, if you're so brisk.
Cæs. (kneeling between)
O! Hold, for Heaven's sake hold.
Rather on me, Sir, turn your Rage,
On me, the unhappy Cause of this Misfortune,
Than bring so generous a Life in hazzard.
(points to Rod.)
Dra.
Thou art as impertinent with thy fear as a Woman,
and art the first Male-Coward that did not love other
Peoples Fighting.
Enter some Officers of Justice, and seize Rod.
1 Offi.
Segnior, Rodoregue, we Arrest you in the Name
of Duke Moreno, and the Senate, as a Traytor to the
State of Venice.
-- 35 --
Rod.
Ha—! Nay, then I am lost.
2 Offi.
Your Sword Sir?
Rod.
Take it Slave—But be not you concern'd (to Cæs.)
my Friend: I told you of this danger, and now there is
no Remedy—What grieves me most in this Calamity, is,
that it will hinder me from serving you, and make me
lessen what I have done—I blush to ask you for part of
what I gave you—
1 Offi.
Come, Sir, away.
Rod.
Yet I must intreat of you some of that Money,
it was all I had.
Cæs.
What Money, Sir?
“For the fair Kindness you have shewn me here
As well as prompted by your present Trouble,
“I'll make division of my Coffer with you;
“My having is not much—Here's half I'm Master of.
(offers some Silver)
Rod.
Ha! Is it possible; can you then
For the vile Profit of a little Gold,
The Wages of a Slave; Reward of Villains—
(pointing first to the Officers, then to Drances)
Dissolve the sacred Ties of Honour;
And to your Interest sacrifice your Friend:
You put me on a painful Task,
To upbraid you with my Services.
Cæs.
I know of none but what you now did for me;
“Nor know I you by Voice, or any Feature:
“I hate Ingratitude more than Lying,
More than Vanity hates concealment,
Or Shame the Light.
Rod.
O! Heavens themselves!
2 Offi.
Sir, we can't stay.
Rod.
But a moment.
This very Youth I rescued from a Shipwrack;
“Reliev'd him with such Sanctity of Love,
That tho' I'm made a Traytor to the State;
-- 36 --
Yet to favour his Designs, I ventur'd
To land him here in Venice.
Cæs. (Aside)
He speaks as if he believ'd what he said.
1 Offi.
Sir, this is not our business, we'll stay no longer, Sir.
Rod.
I go—For his sake—I'll remove my Eyes,
In pity to the Pains the Guilty always feel
Before the Injur'd—Farewel Sebastian.
(Ex. Offi. and Rod.)
Cæs. (Aside)
Ha! He nam'd Sebastian.
These Accidents have then befall'n my Brother!
Shipwrack'd! Wretched! My Woes fall thick;
And I, perhaps, the unhappy Cause of all.
I'm glad the Warrants at Moreno's Sute:
I must not tell him the mistake; but yet
I'll plead his Cause, and wipe away the Stain,
That lies upon my Brother's Honour.
(Exit)
Dra.
Ha! I'm so astonish'd at the Villany of this Boy,
that I did not mind his going.
Taq.
Such a Coward too, Segnior; but I never knew
a Rogue, but was also a Coward.
Dra.
To disown his Friend, and leave him in his necessity,
a Rascal: I warrant he can't drink above a Pint
for his Share.
Taq.
Let's after him, and beat him.
Dra.
Come on, he deserves it.
(Exeunt)
Re-enter Cæsario with Laura.
Cæs.
I'm glad I met thee, Laura! One can't have to do
with Breeches, I see, without mischief—If I had not been
a Man of great Conduct, I had pay'd for usurping that
blustering Sex.
Lau.
What has happen'd to you, Madam?
Cæs.
Nothing but a Duel or two, which I avoided
with as much care as the French do ill News.
Lau.
Some Lover of the Lady's, I suppose, has met with
you—That wou'd be hard, Madam, to be kill'd for another's
Mistress.
-- 37 --
Cæs.
Nay, it had been for my own Mistress, I assure
you—For tho' I pleaded for Moreno, yet I gain'd for my
self—I sigh'd for him, but she sigh'd for me, Laura.
Lau,
Mischief on all hands! Ha! ha! I shou'd ha'
dy'd with laughing at the mistake! Sure, Madam, you
were so much a Man as to promise her fair?
Cæs.
No, I had nothing of a Man about me at that
time, for I wou'd not delude her.
Lau.
You shou'd ha' given her a little hope, to ha' been
better assured of her Temper, for these Venetian Ladies are
full of Plots—Madam Maintinon her self is not cunninger.
Cæs.
Ha! Thou hast put a doubt in my Head, that I
was not aware of—If this shou'd be a Design?
Lau.
I can put you in a way to know, Madam.
Cæs.
Dear Laura, how? I'd do any thing to be certain
of her disaffection to my Lord Moreno, my Happiness depends
on it.
Lau.
She just sent a Footman for the Duke's Physician,
and I happen'd to answer him—Now, Madam, tho' Ladies
frequently send for him, yet she never did before, and since
your Ladyship's so good at Disguises, I'll dress you up,
and you may pass upon her for him, which is a sure way
to get into her Secrets.
Cæs.
I like it extremely—But how shall I do to talk
like a Doctor, and give Physick?
Lau.
No body does Ladies, you know, Madam, they
only feel their Pulse, and tell 'em a pretty Story.
Cæs.
Then I have no more to do, but think of my
prating Doctor, and I can't fail.
Lau.
The best Pattern in the World, Madam, for he
had a Word and a Pill for every body.
Cæs.
Let's about it quick; and tho' I have not seen the
Duke since I came from her, yet I'm so fir'd with this
Physical Enterprize, that I must pursue it.
And if Moreno does her Thoughts employ;
I come like a true Doctor—to destroy!
End of the third ACT.
-- 38 --
ACT IV.
Enter Villaretta, and Emilia.
Vill.
I need not counterfeit Sickness—The invenom'd
Dart has spread around a Poyson that
glows within my Breast, and beats in every Vein.
Em.
Come, come, sit down, and look sick—If the
Doctor comes in, and finds you at shady Groves! and
purling Streams! He won't feel your Pulse, for there's
none of those Diseases in the Dispensatory.
Vill. (sits down
Well! Then what Distemper wou'd
you advise me to?
Em.
Any Woman's, there are a thousand! The Cholick!
Vapours! Whimsy! Spleen! Opinion—! You
can't want a Disease, no more than he a Remedy.
Vill.
I'm afraid he has none for me—Cæsario is not
one of his Medicines.
Em.
Never doubt his Skill! A Physitian is as fit a Person
for this Business, as a Priest, or a Midwife. But then
you must use him like your Confessor, and tell him the
bottom of your Heart.
Vill.
If he shou'd think himself dishonoured, and grow
too scrupulous?
Em.
I'd as soon believe him too religious—! That is,
if you fee him well—The unrewarded have a great
many Scruples.
Vill.
He shan't want that, Emilia—I'll give him a
Senator's Fee, if he succeeds!
[Enter Footman]
Foot.
Madam, the Doctor is come.
Vill.
Wait on him in—(Exit Foot.) Now for a
Colour of Sickness—One must have some regard to his
Gravity, and not fall too quick upon the matter—
Em.
By no means! He keeps his Coach, and you must
not talk to him, no more than fee him, like a walking
Physitian.
Vill.
You are mistaken there, Emilia, for 'tis his Coach
keeps him—They set up a Coach, as others lay it down,
out of necessity—
-- 39 --
Em.
He's coming, begin!
Vill.
Hoe! hoe—! But must it be the Vapours, or the
Spleen?
(in a low Voice)
Em.
Soft! He's here!
Vill.
Hugh! hoe—! Sick! sick!
[Enter Cæs.]
Cæs. (bows very low to Em.)
Vill.
Doctor!
Cæs.
How does your Ladyship do?
Vill.
Very ill! Hoe!
(holds out her Arm)
Cæs. (feels her Pulse)
Hum—! A little Feverish.
Vill.
So troubled with Spleen all Day—What must I
take Doctor?
Cæs.
Let me see—
(playing his Cane against his Mouth)
Your Ladyship must do nothing, but drink me a good
Glass of Wine, with a few Drops, that I shall send you,
and you'll be as well as ever you was in your Life.
Em. (Aside)
I must get a little Advice for nothing—
Doctor, I'm troubled with a trembling at my Heart in a
Morning, what is good for it.
Cæs.
O! Madam, the only thing in the World, are my
Drops! and Blooding, and Vomiting, or so—(Aside) I
don't know what to say next.
Em.
Will you write me a Prescription of these Drops, Dr.?
Cæs. (Aside)
What shall I do now—? Madam, I always
make up my Medicines my self—Never trust an Apothecary—
They're all Rogues, and their Shops hold nothing—
I never visit a Lady of any Rank, but I leave her Chamber
with more Druggs in it.
Em. (Aside)
I don't like a Fellow that won't let me be
cheated as every body is cheated! He knows singularity
catches the Crowd, and thrives the better for not being a
Rogue the common way.
Cæs.
I hope, Madam, we shall bring it to that in a
short time, that every Prescription, shall be as long as a
Bill of Lading of an East-India-Ship, and that none but
People of Quality shall pretend to be sick.
Vill.
That wou'd be very obliging, Sir, to distinguish us
so kindly; for now every dirty Tradesman, whose Wife
has eat too much, must presently send for a Doctor.
-- 40 --
Cæs.
Who must take her by the Hand, Madam, tho' he
brings away the Itch—! But Apothecaries have done this!
I have made some advances, Madam, to put 'em quite
down, out of an honest Indignation to their Rogueries,
for I hate to see People of Quality abus'd....
Em. (Aside)
By any but your self....
Cæs.
Don't your Ladyship find a Languishingness in
your Thoughts, and a Desire to be alone.
Em. (Aside)
Hum! He smokes her Distemper—I'll
withdraw.... Lady Villaretta, I have Letters to write, and
must take my leave.
(Exit)
Vill.
Your Servant.... Exactly so, dear Doctor.
Cæs.
Then, Madam, 'tis certain, the Passions of the
Mind have this effect on the Body.... Your Ladyship has
something that troubles you?
Vill.
You have touch'd the very Spring of my Disease—
(rising)
And if you had a Medicine for that Doctor!
You shou'd out-shine the Widow-making-Tribe,
And all their College Honours.
Cæs.
Ill answer for my Success, Madam, tho' it were
upon the Duke himself.
Vill.
Now, Doctor, you are truly a Physitian! Your very
Words have Balm above the richest Drug—! There is a
Youth call'd Cæs. in your Family, do you know what he is?
Cæs.
A Nobleman's Son of France... Further I cannot
say—But if 'tis he has touch'd your Breast—
Vill.
'Tis he, and only he! On him employ your generous
Art—And as an earnest of my future Bounty—
(gives a Purse of Gold)
Cæs.
Oh! Madam—
Vill.
No Words, Doctor—! Array'd with Beams like
these, you are indeed Apollo's Off-spring.....! The poor
Physitian knows nothing.
Cæs.
'Tis doing violence to my self, to take a Fee before
I have done you good.
Vill.
That, Doctor, belongs to a Bag of Ten thousand
more: Do you bring me Health, and you shall bear away
the Elixir.
(Exeunt)
-- 41 --
Scene the Ryalto.
Enter Sebastian and Pedro.
Seb.
Not seen Rodoregue yet?
Ped.
Nor any one else in these Walks—
The Duke has but a thin Table to day, Sir, no body
Dines with him, but your Honour and your humble
Servant.
Seb.
Hold your grumbling Rascal! you shall Eat presently.
Ped.
Sir, you command me intirely—If I was a
Woman at this time, that would stop my mouth—
All my fear was Sir, that if I had dy'd here, the Serchers
would a mistook my Disease, and laid a Courtiers
death to my charge; the Gout, or the merry Consumption!
No body'd a thought of a Souldiers death, Starving!
because I have Money in my Pocket, and a Shirt
on.
Seb.
Hum! a very useful amusement!
Ped.
Alas! Sir, 'twas worse than that for to divert my
Spleen—
Seb.
Your Spleen Scoundrel!
Ped.
My Hunger Sir, which is the same Distemper in
Younger Brothers—
-- 42 --
Enter Villaretta's Footman.
Foot.
Sir, Sir!
Ped.
Ha!
Foot.
You see Sir, I'm come again!
Seb.
Friend?
Foot.
Tother message to you Sir.
Ped. [Aside]
This fellow looks like a Pimp, there's
something in the Wind!
Seb.
Tother message! why I never saw thee before.
Foot.
Ha! ha! ha! ha! good efaith!
Seb.
Prethee Friend recall thy Senses, for I may
put an end to thy mirth, sooner than thou expects.
Ped. [Aside]
My Master's so dull of late, he spoils
every thing.
Foot.
That is to say Sir, I don't know you! nor am
sent for you now by my Lady, to bid you come to
her—
Ped. [Aside]
Right!—
Foot.
Nor your Name is not Cæsario—nor is this
my ‘Nose! nothing that is so! is so!
Seb.
No Sir, nothing that thou hast mention'd is so,
and thou art mad.
Ped. [Aside]
I cou'd hang my Master now.
Foot.
One of the Company may be touc'd Sir, but
I wont name his Name, because he's apt to be Angry
—[Aside] Never saw me before!—
Ped.
Harkie Friend, are you sure you was sent to this
Gentleman?
-- 43 --
Foot.
Why do you ask Sir.
Ped.
Because Sir, there is a Person in the Company,
that wou'd not be so backward to wait upon her Ladyship.
Seb.
I'll break your head Rascal.
Ped.
Nay Sir, that is not fair, when you have no
Stomack your self, to hinder me from a good Meal.
Seb.
Prithee Friend, now thou see'st thy mistake,
leave us while thou art well.
Foot.
If I left you so, I shou'd not be long well, for
my Lady'd turn me out of doors—Ha! ha! to
come home and tell her I have been perswaded out of
my Eye sight! Death! Sir, 'twas not two minutes ago
that you was with her.
Seb.
Art thou very sure of that Friend?
Foot.
Ay Sir, and will swcar it too.
Ped. [Aside]
This fellow can't be a Footman, he's
some Attorney's Clerk, by his Evidence.
Enter Drances and Taquilet.
Taq.
Here he is!—there's for thee Coward!—
Strikes Sebast.
Seb.
And there's for you, and you Villanis!
He and Pedro knock down Drances & Taq.
Taq. [Kneels]
Good Sir, spare my life—
[Trembling.
Seb.
This Slave is not worth Killing.
Taq.
O! dear Sir, no! I have no merit at all Sir—
there are a Thousand Ingenious Persons that will come
to the Gallows for their wit Sir, that deserve your
Sword—you'll dishonour it upon me Sir.
-- 44 --
Dran. [Draws]
Since a fit of Courage has seiz'd you,
come on young Gentlemen.
Foot. [Kneels between 'em]
O pray Signior stop! my
Lady'll have you all Hang'd, if you hurt him.
Ped.
Why art thou mad still?—don't fear Evidence,
you may bring 'em off at last, by Swearing they
did not do it.
Foot.
Here she comes.
Enter Villaretta and Emilia.
Vill.
Hold, on your Lives I charge ye!
Ped. [Aside]
Ha! what now?
Vill. [To Dran.]
Must it be ever thus ungracious wretch,
“Fit for the Mountains and the barbarous Caves,
“Where manners never reach'd—out of my sight!—
“Be not offended dear Cæsario—
Ped. [Aside]
Hum! She knows him too, as well as
her Man.
Vill.
But be thy Nature, gentle as thy Form,
That Parricide, with brutal violence had peirc'd
My heart within your bosome—
'Twas for my self I Trembled.
Seb.
Is this a Dream?
Am I or they mistaken? Madness sure
Was never so Harmonious—all agree!
Vill.
You seem'd surpriz'd, as well you may, at this
uncurtious usage—But gentle Sir, go with me to
my House, and there I'll tell you Stories of his folly,
that I hope will make you Smile at this.
Ped. [Aside]
Hum! She's for a close conference—
the business must be done out of hand.
-- 45 --
Vill.
Let me at last prevail with you.
Seb.
Madam you command me.
Vill.
O Charming sound! that word transports me more,
Than all your Cruelties cou'd wrong before.
[Exeunt.
Mament Pedro and Emilia.
Ped. [Aside
A very whimsical Intreague. Now will
he never be able to perswade her that he is not the Person
—And I warrant she'll examine every Mole
about him to be satisfy'd—One can't guess how many
Tokens she'll know him by—O! my dear!
these are the Lips, I'm sure Kiss't just so! and your Arms
met about me in the same manner!—I can't
be mistaken—pray put 'em round me once more—
exactly—Ha! ha! I'll follow, the whole Family
are of a piece, and 'tis very likely she may have a
Maid that will swear me out of my self too, and
examine my person with as much curiosity—Ha!
here she is! stays for that purpose—
[Bows very low.
Em. [Aside]
I have a great mind to ask the Man what
his Master thinks of Villaretta.
Ped. [Bowing very low] [Aside]
My Nimphs name I
suppose is Abigal.
Em. [Aside]
The Valet is commonly the Privy Councellour.
Ped. [Bows still] [Aside]
Priscilla! I believe by her silence
[goes nearer and Bows] Madam!
Em. [Aside]
O! he has a mind to speak with me—
What wou'st have Friend?
Ped.
Ah Madam—something that I dare not mention.
-- 46 --
Em.
What can that be?
Ped. [Aside]
Right!—Offers to take her by the hand, and looks in her Face.
Why truly Child as you say,
what can that be?
Em.
Ha! Villain! what insolence is [strikes him]
this?—I'll send some to you that shall teach you
manners.
Exit.
Ped.
Hum! my Mistress I find is not altogether so
fond as my Master's—tho' she's more familiar—!
a Virago! a Man must make Love in Armour, if he
has any value for his fore Teeth—She'd make an
excellent Wife for a Dragoon—She'd keep him from
making Musters, I'll ingage!
[Exit.
Enter Moreno and Cæsario.
Mor.
Thy words pierce thro' me, every accent flies
Loaded with mortal Poyson to my heart;
Sure Venus's Son is deaf, as well as blind,
For every God, but Love, is mov'd by pray'r.
Cæs.
My Lord forgot her—She's a pevish Beauty,
That likes her self too much to see your merit:
Grief is for little People, may
Th' Illustrious Duke of Venice feel no care.
Mor.
Poor Cæsario! thou look'st upon
The gaudy glittering out-side of Power!
And seest not the dissappointments, cares,
Anxieties, and impossible wishes that are under.
Curse on the forward fool, that first Ambition fir'd
To step above the quiet level of his Race,
Leaving happy to be great!—Had I not been a Prince,
Villaretta might a pitty'd me.
-- 47 --
Cæs.
Say that her Heart's devoted to another,
As your's to her, or as some Woman else
May sigh my Lord for you:
Wou'd you then hope for pitty in her Breast;
Or wou'd you give it to the bleeding Dame?
Mor.
She is not to be weigh'd with common things;
A Prize like her shou'd be the World's dispute,
And Crown at last Superiour merit.
What wou'd he do for her that I'd refuse?
Cæs.
If I were she, and judge of that dispute,
The striving World with scorn I wou'd refuse?
And throw the Prize into your Hignesses Arms.
Mor.
Dear partial Boy!
Thou still hast something to delude my cares:
How shall I reward thy kindness—I'll give
The any thing thou asks me.
Cæs.
Thank ye my Lord!—Remember but that promise,
And I'm happy!
Mor.
I'll give you instance now Cæsario,
Of my good wishes to you—You say that
Rodoregue Rescu'd you, and is my Prisoner.
Cæs.
He is my Lord, they call him Rodoregue,
And said he was a Traitor to the State.
Forgive me Sir, for pleading for your Enemy;
All that are yours are mine.
Mor.
Lead to him Cæsario, and rest assur'd,
However Criminal he is to me,
His services to you shall cancel all,
And leave me in his debt—
[Exeunt.
-- 48 --
Enter Sebastian and Pedro.
Seb.
“This is the Air! that is the Glorious Sun!
“This Pearl she gave me!—I do see! and feel it!
No shape of fancy, or delusive dream:
A Woman too, that has Wit! that has Honour!
And Charms enough to make a Man upon
The Wrack forget his Pains!—
Yet it is wondrous all! and Madness! somewhere
she calls me Cæsario! cruel! and talks with the assur'd
Air of long Acquaintance! what can be the meaning?
Ped.
The plainest in the World Sir.
Seb.
Ha! have they told thee, unriddle Pedro?
Ped.
Its no Riddle at all, I know a little of Woman's
temper Sir, for I was Pimp to my Lord Midnight before
I came to your Honour, and when a Woman had
a mind to his Person or Money, she'd rail at him,
trip before him, or write an angry Letter to him
for abusing her—Now this Lady Sir, pretends to be
your old Acquaintance, that's all.
Seb.
It might be so, is she design'd a Gallantry, but
this is for Marriage, Blockhead.
Ped.
Ha! ha! a Plot to put Love out of Countenance;
she has so quick a sense of this matter Sir,
that she wou'd try to allay it with the Air of a
License, a Priest, and a Sack-Posset! Ay Sir, I wish
she were in earnest, for she's the Richest Lady in
Venice. The Duke himself makes Love to her.
Seb.
How can'st tell?
-- 49 --
Ped.
You know Sir, I am the humble follower of
your steps—and fearing I should betray you if I
look'd like a Stranger, where you was so well acquainted,
I offer'd to squeese her Woman by the hand;
but instead of finding the great civility of her Lady,
it presently walk'd about my Ears at such a rate,
that nothing but her Tongue cou'd go faster.
Seb.
She serv'd you well.
Ped.
She is the first Lady's Woman of your Honour's
Accquaintance, that did not admire a Man of my
Breeding.
Seb.
To the purpose Rascal!
Ped.
She threaten'd very hard, but a compassionate
Footman took pitty of me, and carry'd me into a
Sellar Sir, that holds the best Cure of the Spleen in
Venice, and over a Flask of it, told me the secret of
the Family—In short Sir, her Riches are as great as
her Civility, and the Duke had rather Marry her
than the Sea.
Seb.
If this and she be true, nothing can add to
my good fortune, but to find my Sister Lives.
Ped.
Saving that Sir, this will prove a lucky Shipwreck
—Fortune's grown an English Banker, and
breaks you only to Enrich you.
Seb.
Hold, here she comes—
Enter Villaretta and Priest.
Vill.
Blame not this hast Cæsario! if you mean well:
“Go with me now into the Chauntry by,
“And underneath that Consecrated Roof,
“Before this holy Man,
-- 50 --
“Plight me the full assurance of your Faith,
“That my most jealouse and too doubtful Soul
“May live at peace.
Seb.
None with your Eyes to doubt their wishes needs;
I want no force where so much Beauty pleads!
Let the good Man Lead on—
Before the Altar, I'll your peace insure,
And Plight a Faith, that ever shall indure.
Vill.
The summ of all my wishes, dear Cæsario!
—Proceed good Father! Quick your blessing give,
'Tis all from you and Heav'n I'd now receive!
[Exeunt all but Pedro.
Ped.
Hum! good Chaplain make hast—Ay! sharp
set, and don't care how soon Grace is said! If this Marriage
goes on, I shall be a great Man! The first thing
I do, shall be to bring that insolent Jade that box'd
me upon her Knees, to show my power; and I'll
Marry her after, to continue my Dominion, for I love
Gratitude extreamly—Then all the Imployments in the
Government, I reckon will be at my disposal—I'll be
Secretary of State my self, tho' I can't Write—But
to have a place, is to be fit for it, and to Receive the
Salary, is to discharge it well—So look Important,
Signior Pedro.
[Exit strutting.
The End of the Fourth Act.
-- 51 --
ACT V.
Enter several running over the Stage, crying out stop Thief—After which,
Enter Rodoregue.
Rod.
I have given 'em the slip—But where can I
fly?—A lucky Fellow now wou'd escape,
but he that's to be oppress'd by the malice of a Judge,
has no chance—Ha!—[without—stop Thief]
'll p etend to be Drunk, and so far at least shall look
like an honest fellow—Ti roll doll—
Enter Two Souldiers, and one of the Mob.
Mob.
That's he! That's he! Knock him down, while
I call the Captain—
[Exit.
Rod.
Quarter Brother Souldier! Quarter!
1. Soul.
Brother Souldier Dog! What to a Thief?
Rod.
Ay! ay! We both live upon Plunder, and are
both Men of Honour—there's no difference.
2. Soul.
How Rascal! no difference 'twixt Souldiers
and Robbers?
Rod.
None in the World Sir—Only we Rob for
our selves, and you for another body, that's all.
-- 52 --
2. Soul. [Strikes him]
Dog! must you be Jokeing with
Gentlemen?
Rod.
Sir. I'm your humble Servant.
1. Soul.
Harkee Tom! let's inquire into his Pockets
before the Captain comes, the Rogue wont feel—
Rod.
No Sir, no more than hear.
2. Soul. [Strikes him]
Why you Eves-dropping Rascal,
must you be listening to Gentlemen's discourse.
1. Soul.
What wont a Rogue do, that makes no difference
between Robbing a House, and Plundering like
a Souldier?
Rod.
I confess it is not to compare to Robbing a
whole Country—But I thought Gentlemen, it
show'd a Genious for it—A Man may come to Play
at Chess in time, that begins at One and Thirty
1. Soul.
You are merry Sir.
Rod.
So says every dull Fellow, when he can't put
the Mirth about himself—But come Rascals, I'll
make you merry to—[Takes a Box out of his Pocket]
I know your too much Courtiers to take Bribes, but
every thing is yours that you fight for: So here's a Jewel
in this Box—for him that can win it—
Throws it between 'em, which while they scramble for, he runs off, but is taken by the Capt. who enters at the same time.
Capt.
Well met Rodoregue.
Rod.
O! Barbarous Fortune.
Capt.
She's kind to me, who had been lost had you
escap'd—The Duke is here—[Aside] And must
not know my negligence.
-- 53 --
Enter Moreno, Cæsario, Rodoregue, and Officers.
Offi.
An't please your Highness!
This is that Rodoregue! who with hostile keels,
So long has plough'd our Adriatick Seas:
We found him quarrelling in the Streets of Venice,
Without concern or shame.
Cæs.
Sir, let not that be in his Accusation!
My Danger brought him there;
He Rescu'd me from the Insults of Two Ruffians;
Drew on my side, and sav'd my life.
Mor.
For that I am oblig'd to him.
Cæs.
But when he was apprehended,
He put a strange behaviour on;
And spoke to me as his old Acquaintance;
With grave and orderly distraction.
Mor.
Rodoregue! what strang design
Cou'd thus expose you single to their mercy's:
“Whom thou in terms so bloody and so dear,
“Hast made thy Enemies?
Rod.
Noble Moreno!
No publick cause or enmity to you.
“A Witchcraft drew me hither;
“That most ungrateful Youth there by your side.
“From you rude Seas, enrag'd and foamy mouth
“Did I redeem, a Wretch past hope!—For whose sole sake
-- 54 --
Known as I was, a publick Foe to Venice:
I lay'd aside the cares of my own safety,
And here expos'd me to this adverse Town,
Where not an hour ago beset with Villains;
I drew my ready Sword in his defence,
And sav'd a second time his Life:
But soon as the publick Officers had seiz'd me,
And I became the Wreck of Fortune's spite,
And in my turn his doubtless succour needed!
Instead of a stretch'd out Arm to save me,
Instead of drawing to relieve his Friend;
He grew a stranger to my very Name!
And basely vow'd he saw me not before;
Deny'd me my own Purse with pitty, for his fate
Had made me recommend this morning to his use.
Cæs.
With wonder and with shame I hear him speak,
I scorn to lesson what is done for me:
He sav'd me from Two Ruffians, and my breast
Is big with Gratitude for the Generous deed:
But I am still a stranger to the rest,
And still must vow I saw him not before.
Rod.
Exquisite Impudence! This Boy wou'd make his
Fortune in a Court—'Tis pitty they shou'd loose so
promising a Villain!
Mor.
Hold Rodoregue! you say you brought him hither:
When came he to this Town?
Rod.
To day my Lord, and for a Month before,
(Kept back by Storms from making of the Land)
Both day and night did we keep Company.
Mor.
Distraction all, or vain design,
To raise the merit of your Friendship!
Rod.
No gallant spirit has so mean a drift:
I wou'd not Lye, as well Moreno knows,
I wou'd not run away—And 'tis
-- 55 --
A meaner Cowardice to shrink from Truth,
Than fly the face of Man.
Mor.
Then thou art Mad, Rodoregue! for this Youth
Has been these Six days in my Family,
The constant Servant of my wishes.
Rod.
You too Moreno!
Enter Villaretta.
Mor.
Hold this anon! Here comes Villaretta!
Now Heav'n walks on Earth, and Beauty round
Invades us all! Each glance devotes a Slave,
And every step, she treads upon a heart,
All of the Skies, but pitty you have brought.
She draws near.
Vill.
These Gallantries, my Lord, are lost on me;
So long you've play'd this old forbidden tune,
If I had ever lov'd it, 'twou'd a cloy'd me.
Mor.
“Still so cruel, Lady!
Vill.
“Still so constant, Lord!
Mor.
For ever scorn'd!—Injoy the sullen pow'r
Of blessing none—I will resume my heart,
Which all the Heav'n about you shan't recall.
Vill.
My Lord, I have no Heav'n or Stars to boast off;
If I'm allay'd to any thing above,
'Tis in the Raptures of Cæsario's Love!
Mor.
Cæsario! ha! Hast thou betray'd me?
And am I made a Sacrifice to thee!
[Draws.]
Cæs. [Kneels]
Oh! no my Lord, I have not done you wrong,
But I wou'd die to give you quiet.
-- 56 --
Vill.
Cæsario fear him not! 'Tis I command you.
“Be what thou know'st thou art, and then
“Thou art as great as he thou shrink'st from.
Mor. [Looking on him]
How has this smiling slave deceiv'd me;
And Rodoregue's wrongs are now too Evident:
But thou shalt pay for all.
Offers to Stab her, Vill. steps between, and Laura Enters and holds his Arm.
Laur.
O hold my Lord, a moment hold!
Mor.
Ha!
Laur.
Cæs—sa—rio—
[Weeps.
Mor.
What?
Laur.
Is a Woman!
Mor.
How?
Laur.
A poor unhappy Woman!
Vill.
A Woman Wench! Thou art distracted!
Mor.
What mistery is this? A Woman?
Laur.
Yes my good Lord, I know it to be so.
Vill.
But I who know better, say he is a Man,
and my Husband—'Twou'd be strange if I did
not know.
Mor.
Ha! Is this true?
Cæs.
No my wrong'd Lord, I never yet was Wed,
Nor ever cou'd to her.
Mor.
This cloud grows darker.
Vill.
'Tis but the baseness of his fear before you:
Call in the Priest.
He soon will clear it to your Highness;
And show the strangeness of that Woman's Story.
Laur.
Madam, I'll die by what I say.
Mor.
I am confounded.
-- 57 --
Enter Priest.
Vill.
Most wellcome holy Sir—
Father, I charge Thee by the reverence
Thou bearst to Truth, here to unfold
What newly's past, between this Youth and me?
Priest.
A contract of Eternal Bond of Love,
“Confirm'd by mutual Joinder of your hands,
Vill. looks pleas'd, Cæs. Astonish'd, Mor. Enrag'd.
“Strengthen'd by Interchangment of the Rings,
“And all the Ceremony of this compact,
“Seal'd in my Function by my Testimony:
“Since which, my Watch has told me t'ward my Grave,
“I've Travell'd but two Hours.
Mor.
Now the Visor's off abandon'd Hypocrite.
Vill.
Nay you shan't Kill him for his fear;
'Tis me he wrongs.
Mor.
He shan't another, Madam—
Offering to strike, Laura holds him kneelling.
Laur.
Hold my Lord, don't Kill her,
let her be search'd first, and you'll be satisfy'd.
Cæs.
O save me from his Rage—
[To Rodoregue.
Rod.
Begone Villain, and think not I'll protect thee more.
Enter Sebastian, and Draws.
Seb.
Rodoregue! My Friend in Danger?
Cæs. [Aside]
My Brother!
Rod.
Sebastian, then are you?
Seb.
“Do'st thou fear that Rodoregue?
-- 58 --
Rod.
“How have you made Division of your self
“An Apple cleft in two is not more Twin!
Which is Sebastian?
Mor.
Ha!
Vill.
Which is Cæsario? I don't know my Husband!
Seb.
Madam, this holy Man will answer for me.
Vill.
That's more than you can tell, for he has already
answer'd for another.
Priest.
I verily don't know what to say!
Mor.
“One Face! One Voice! One Habit! and Two
Persons!
Enter Pedro half Drunk.
Ped.
Terol dol! dol!
Vill.
Here's his Man, I'll ask him—Harkee Friend,
which is your Master?
Ped.
My Master Madam! Why you're the only
Woman in Venice, by this time that don't know my
Master.
Vill.
Worse and worse!—
[Aside.
Ped.
He's very open hearted Madam, and if you'll tell
me where you Lodge, you shan't live in Ignorance half
an hour.
Vill. [Aside]
This is another Death to me.
Ped.
But now I think on't, he has Marry'd a Widow
to day, and she'll take care of him the first Night, my
dear.
Vill.
Begone Rascal!
[Strikes him
-- 59 --
Ped.
Nay, if there's such danger in your fingers, I'll
keep my Master out of your Arms.
[Exit Ped.
Seb. [Who has been viewing Cæs.]
Forgive me Sir, this
freedom, it concerns me:
But something while I look, dissolves my breast,
And melts down all that's Man—
[hides his Eyes.
Cæs.
What memory afflects you Sir,
Seb.
A Sister's! whose very features yours;
Tender and good as Angels!
Whom Neptune blindly in his rage devour'd:
For had he seen, he had himself been lost—
But curteous Sir, what Nation are you of?
Did France receive the honour of your Birth?
“What Kin are you to me?
Cæs.
You call up all my shame into my Cheeks;
I've strove to hide that secret from the World,
For what I do, dishonours what I am,
My Family is Noble, and my Country
The most Civiliz'd—
But least you shou'd discredit my account,
Behold this evidence of what I say—
Shows the Mole on her Arm.
Seb. [Imbraces her]
My Sister! my Viola!
Cæs.
Sebastian!
Seb.
Are you then living! how has Heaven preserv'd you?
I'm all astonishment and joy.
Cæs.
These weeds upbraid me now too much,
To let me speak—The Duke of Venice
Owns me for his Page.
Vill.
And I thought too you were my Husband?
Seb.
Nature forbid the unfruitful Knot;
She wou'd not, Madam, fill such Arms in vain,
And kindly brought me in my Sister's Room.
-- 60 --
Vill. [To the Priest]
Why Doctor, we don't know
what we have done here!
Mor.
“Be not amaz'd! Right noble is his Blood:
I now recall Sebastian's Family,
And if Cæsario be his Sister,
I must claim a part in this days fortune—
Cæsario, you have often said you lov'd me.
Cæs.
I have my Lord, and now this Lady is dispos'd of:
I here confirm whatever I have said.
Mor.
You make me more your Slave, than you was mine;
The merit of your Breast I lov'd before;
And if mine, Madam, does not appear
Less worthy for the Love it bore another—
Cæs.
My Lord, it rather adds unto its value:
Your generous carriage to that cruel Beauty;
Your tender Passion! and your constant Faith,
Increas'd at once my Love and my Dispair;
But since my Rival has another Blest,
That noble Honour, and that matchless Truth,
May now reward a heart that Loves you.
Mor.
In that alone, I shall deserve it:
My Heav'n! my Viola! my Cæsario!
Let the dear Name survive—tho' I discharge
The service—And now you are
“Your Masters Mistress!
Cæs.
My Lord, I'll exercise the power you give me
In one command; that you wou'd succour Rodoregue.
Mor.
If I had look'd that way, I had prevented you;
Rodoregue shall share the blessings of this hour,
My present Service, and my future Friendship.
Vill.
And now our Families are thus United,
Let's Celebrate our general Joy together:
A Mask was made to Adorn Cæsario's Nuptials;
It will agree, to which so e'er apply'd,
-- 61 --
For I Marry'd Cæsario, my Lord, as well as you;
Sebastian is my second Husband—
Mor.
Then to Cæsario dedicate the Day;
Since 'twas Cæsario that has blest us all.
[Let the Mask begin.
After the Mask.
Mor.
Now the Adventures of the Day are over;
We may look back with pleasure on our Toils,
And thro' the various turns this truth observe;
That Honesty is still the care of Providence!
By Rodoregue, we see that good will wait upon a
worthy action—By Sebastian, that Fortune can't
long stain an honest Friendship.
And here I find, that some kind Star above,
Has still a Blessing left for Honest Love.
