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 --
William Burnaby [1703], Love Betray'd; or, the Agreable Disapointment. A comedy. As it was Acted at the Theatre in Lincolns-Inn-Fields. By the Author of The Ladies Visiting-Day (Printed for D. Brown... [and] F. Coggan [etc.], London) [word count] [S33100].
