The amorous old-vvoman: or, 'tis vvell if it take. A comedy. Acted by His Majesties servants. Written by a person of honour.

The amorous old-vvoman: or, 'tis vvell if it take. A comedy. Acted by His Majesties servants. Written by a person of honour.

Table of contents

Title page

PROLOGUE Spoken by Major Mohun.

A second PROLOGVE intended, but not spoken.

Dramatis Personae.

THE Amorous Old-vvoman, OR, 'Tis VVell if it Take.

ACTUS I.

SCENA I.

Scena Secunda.

Scena Tertia.

Scena Quarta.

Scena Quinta.

Scena Sexta.

Actus Secundus.

§

Scena Secunda.

Scena Tertia.

Scena Quarta.

Scena Quinta.

Scena Sexta.

ACTUS III.

SCENA I.

Scena Secunda.

Scena Tertia.

Scena Quarta.

Scena Quinta.

Scena Sexta.

ACTUS IV.

SCENA I.

Scena Secunda.

Scena Tertia.

Scena Quarta.

Scena Quinta.

ACTUS V.

SCENA I.

Scena Secunda.

Scena Tertia.

Scena quarta.

Scena Quinta.

Scena Sexta.

Scena Septima.

EPILOGUE.

§

§

[Page]

THE Amorous Old-vvoman. OR, 'Tis VVell if it Take.

A COMEDY.

ACTED By His MAJESTIES Servants.

WRITTEN By a Person of Honour.

LONDON, Printed for Simon Neale at the three Pidgeons in Bedford street in Covent-Garden. MDCLXXIV.

PROLOGUE Spoken by Major Mohun.

[Page]

[Page]

POets in Prologues (to cajole the Age)

Have spent such stocks of Wit upon the Stage,

That 'tis become the hardest par to'th' Play,

They've said so much, there's little left to say.

Yet Criticks, you new Miracles attend,

As if Wits Treasurie cou'd know no end.

Like cruel Landlords, who do never weigh

Hard times, or dammage, when 'tis Quarter day;

With eager expectation you destrain

For VVits Excise upon our Poets brain,

And for a Prologue, you old custom cite:

They writ with ease who first began to write;

All fancies then were fresh, all [...]heams were new;

Wit's ransack'd now from China, to Peru.

Nay, here at home, all fancies are as stale,

Some flatter, some intreat, and others rail:

And this last Method we must needs confess,

Has of all others met the most success:

But our new Poet dares not take this Course,

He wou'd intreat, but not your likings force;

For if your Charity don't help him out,

He does protest he then must turn Bankrupt:

Not with design as knavish Bankers do)

For he'l not break and then compound with you;

But fairly to you, his whole interest quit,

And give you up the forfeit of his it [...].

A second PROLOGVE intended, but not spoken.

[Page]

HE who comes hither, with design to hiss,

And with a bum revers'd to whisper Miss,

To kemb a Peruke, or to show gay Cloaths,

Or to vent antique Non-sence with new Oaths;

Our Poet welcomes as the Muses Friend,

For he'll by Irony each Play commend.

Next him, we welcome [...]ch who briskly dine

At Lockets, at Giraus, or Shattiline;

Swell'd with Pottage, and the Burgundian Grape,

They hither come to take a kindly Nap;

In these our Poet don't conceive much harm,

For they pay well, and keep our Benches warm;

And tho' (scarce half awake) some Plays they damn;

They do't by whole-sale, not by Ounce, and Dram.

But when fierce Criticks get them in their Clutch,

They're crueller than the Tyrannick Dutch;

And with more Art do dislocate each Scene,

Than in Amboyna they the limbs of Men;

They rack each line, and ev'ry word unknit,

As if they'd find a way to cramp all Wit.

They're the Terrour of all adventures here,

The very objects of their hate, and fear;

And like rude Common-wealths they stillare knit,

'Gainst English Playes, the Monarchies of Wit.

Th' invade Poetick licence, and still rail

At Plays, to which in duty they shou'd vail,

Yet still th' infest this Coast to F [...]h for Iests,

To suppliment their VVits at City Feasts,

Thus much for Criticks: To the more generous Wit

Our Poet frankly does cach Scene submit,

And begs your kind Alliance to engage

Those Hogen Interlopers of the Stage.

Dramatis Personae.

[Page]

[Page]

Honorio in Love with Arabella. Mr. Lydal.

Amante in Love with Clara. Mr. Beeston.

Garbato in Love with Arabella. Mr. Eastland.

Cicco a blind Senator that pretends to see. Mr. Perin.

Riccamare his Brother, in Love with Riches. Mr. Coysh.

[...]uggio a Fellow that delights in Romancing. Mr. Chapman.

Furfante Servant to Cicco. Mr. Powel.

Sanco-panco Servant to Strega. Mr. Shirly.

Women Actors.

Constantia Sister to Honorio. Mrs. Cox.

Arabella Daughter to Cicco. Mrs. Iames.

Clara in Love with Honorio, called also Infortunio. Mrs. Boutel.

Strega an old Rich deformed Lady. Mrs. Corey.

The Scene Pisa.

THE Amorous Old-vvoman, OR, 'Tis VVell if it Take.

[Page]

ACTUS I.

SCENA I.

Amante and Honorio meeting.

Aman.

SIgnior Honorio!

Hon.

Signior Amante! You are the Man

I wish'd to meet.

Aman.

Then we're both pleas'd.

I've worn out my Feet with seeking you.

Hon.

And I my Patience.

Aman.

I thought you better stor'd.

Hon.

You have most reason to believe so Signior.

Aman.

I cannot apprehend you.

Hon.

I shall explain my self. I understand

You have been a liberal detractor Sir,

Both of my honour, and my Sisters fame▪

And as a Gentleman expect fair satisfaction.

Aman.

Ha, ha, ha, you are dispos'd to droll.

Italians seldom understand that Language.

Hon.

You speak French. Teach your Sword the Dialect.

[Page]And don't mistake my injuries for jests.

Aman▪

Tho' I have alwayes made it my chief care▪

Neither to offer, nor receive a wrong,

And am as far from injuries to you.

As English Subjects from oppressive Laws:

Yet custom does so cruelly impose

Upon the Laws of Honour, the must give

Satisfaction, to the Capricio of each jealous brain.

Hon.

I am no common Duellist, nor make a living▪

From the price of blood. My temper

In your refusal of my Sisters Love▪

(After such long address) was too much shewn;

But▪ then her tears did conquer my resentments,

Which fresher injuries have inflam'd a-new.

And if not false to Honour, as to Love,

You will this Night those injuries repair,

Or take his Life, whose fame you did not spare.

Aman.

'Twere not amiss I knew particulars,

The why and wherefore I must draw my Sword,

For I'me not so in love with the French garb,

T' expose my skin to pinking for the Mode.

Hon.

You shall—

Setting a part your late inconstancy, (which I am▪

Bound to pardon by [...] an Oath) receive in short

My other injuries: y' have given out (thereby

To justifie your levity) my Sister was unchast,

And that the reason you forsook her Love;

That I (being conscious of my Sisters guilt)

Durst not confirm 't to th' world by my revenge,

Aman.

Let me but know the inventor of these lyes,

These Hell-bred lyes, that I may punish him,

For I am more than equally concern'd.

Hon.

You must excuse me Si [...], I swore concealment.

Aman.

Then give me leave to say you are unjust:

Tho' love, which all want Power to resist,

Compell'd my stubborn heart to feel a second flame;

[...]et [...] was ne're so little generous, so destitute

[Page]Of Honour, or of Man-hood, as to asperse a Lady,

I once lov'd.

Hon.

Words are no balsom for the wounds of Honour:

I hope you'l meet me in Pantalonies Grove.

Aman.

To vindicate her Fame I will; but ne're

To justifie so black a Calumny.

Hon.

Y' are a Coward then, that wants a Soul

To own the injuries your malice vents.

Aman.

A Coward! Lend me your patience Gods!

'Tis all too little to allay the flame

That word has kindled here; Oh how it rages!

Now y' have given my anger a just Theam;

You shall soon know to whom the Coward's due:

Expect me about Six.

Hon.

I shall attend you with a second.

Exit Honorio.

Aman.

Tho' he pretends fresh wrongs, 'tis evident

He seeks to punish my inconstancy,

A cause my Sword wou'd have defended weakly,

Had not his fury given 't an argument,

Too warrantable to admit dispute,

As to the justice of't, a Coward!

It is a Title of such Infamy;

Methinks his life is slender satisfaction!

And yet when I consider him my Friend,

Methinks that Title shou'd all quarrells end.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Riccamare, Garbato.

Ric.

But is she so deform'd?

Garb.

As ugly as heart can wish, but rich

Beyond the numbers of Arithmetick.

Ric.

She's a Woman?

[Page]Garb.

Her Progeny assures it, for she has seen

Her great Grand-childs Daughter;

But still remember she is rich.

Ric.

There's my Elyzium.

Garb.

But will you marry her?

Ric.

Why did I crave thy aid else? for riches

I will marry any thing. Were she so old

That the single hairs upon her Chin

Were hard'ned by time, to the consistence

Of Knitting-needles, and grown as long; if

She had money, yet I'de marry her, and

Kiss her upon occasion, notwithstanding

That Porcupin defence.

Garb.

And much good may it do thee.

Ric.

Nay, if she be but rich enough, I care not▪

Tho' she were a Witch the Devil had suck'd

Nine lives; but thou art sure that I shall▪

Meet no Rival?

Garb.

Except Don Satan shou'd in meer spight

Animate an hang'd Carcass to court her,

Never fear one.

Ric.

How happy's Riccamare! since glorious Gold

Gives form to Youth deform'd, Beauty to th' old.

Garb.

How he's exalted! like a Beggar that had▪

Drunk himself into a Prince, and keeps

State in a dream.

Ric.

Dear Garbato let's instantly to this India.

Garb.

Weigh the adventure: There's more pleasure▪

To sleep in a Trench, tho' in a deep Snow,

When Bullets dance about your ears, and

Less danger, than in kissing her, she

Has a breath more noisom than a Jakes,

Able to belch a Pestilence, but Gold is a

Rich Restorative, and she's as mellow as

An Angelot Ch [...]ese, that has been mortifi'd

Fifteen Months in Horse-dung: But still

To your great comfort, she's exceeding rich.

[Page]Ric.

That's my Paradise, has she many Heirs?

Garb.

None but an overgrown Gib-cat, she has

Out-liv'd her kindred by nine Generations,

And they say remembers ever since Eve

Gave suck; and for her Religion she's a

Pre-adamite.

Ric.

Then are my fortunes made for ever.

Garb.

And you shall make mine before we part.

(aside)

Ric.

How am I bound to fortune! Rich and Old,

Two blessings I wou'd hardly change for Heaven

Might it succeed.

Garb.

The refusal must be on your part Signior.

Ric.

What, and be worth ten thousand Duckets yearly?

Gar.

Yes, and ten times that in money.

Ric.

If I wed her not, may I marry a poor

Beauty, and undo my Parish with getting

Beggars. Why should'st thou scruple it?

Prithee let's lose no time.

Garb.

A word first about my own concerns.

Ric.

Delay me not, I'le reward thee to thy wish.

Gar.

I am no Slave to coin Sir.

Ric.

How shall I otherwise deserve thy Love?

Gar.

As we walk I shall inform you.

Ric.

Well, you shall govern me: now to my Mine;

Nought's so deform'd, but Gold can make divine.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Constantia, Clara, Arabella.

Con.

Dispute no more, you may as well compare

An Atome to a Mountain, as balance

Your miseries with mine.

Cla.

Let each impart her grief, and then the Scale

Will not perhaps appear so much unequal.

[Page]Ara.

Let me begin happily, hearing mine

You'l blush, and think your own not worth

Relating.

The man I love is banisht from my sight,

And him I hate, usurps a Lovers right.

Such Magick is there in a Parents will,

As does destroy my Love, my Lover kill.

If I obey, I must espouse my hate,

And disobedience is a harder fate.

For so I lose my love, who does pursue

Me with such Virtue, he'd then shun me too,

As lost to duty, judging I might prove,

As to my Father, falser to his love.

Con.

Your fate's severe, yet Madam you possess

In's Virtue still a kind of happiness,

Whil'st I have lost in mine, (being so untrue,)

Not only a Lover, but his virtue too.

Cla.

Yet both your fates my happiness outgo:

You were belov'd, but I was never so.

Con.

My having been belov'd my griefs encrease:

War racks them most that have been us'd to peace.

Ara.

And those true vowes my Lover does impart,

Serve but as Torches to inflame my heart.

Which otherwise by silence might abate

In Love, and reconcile me to my hate.

Cla.

All these are trifles to poor Clara's grief,

Whose Love ne're had, nor e're can hope relief.

Con.

What e're they seem, sure those griefs deepest grow,

Which feel th' effects of love, and hatred too.

Ara.

If to discern, you'd contraries compare,

(For great hope lost, begets the worst despair.)

You'd find my grief all others far excel.

So joyes privation is the worst of Hell:

And darkness seems more horrid to the sight,

When Bodies intervene 'twixt us and light,

And rob us of the glory of the Day,

Than when by course, Night drives the Sun away.

[Page]So does my Fathers will t'our Love appear,

Much more prodigious, than were Love severe,

Or either of us false: that grief destroys,

Which cruelly separates uniting joyes.

Con.

Disputes are vain; we never shall decide,

Which shou'd precede, 'mongst griefs so near ally'd.

Cla.

Thou'rt in the right, for mine must never yield.

Ara.

Nor mine—adieu.

I must retire to the Cypress Grove.

Cla.

So dark a shade will best become my Love,

I'le bear thee company, where we will feed,

Sorrow with silence: As wounds inward bleed,

When least apparent, yet then best surprize

The fort of life; so griefs which dwell on Eyes,

Cannot so dextrously life o'ercome,

As silent sorrows, which live nearer home.

Exeunt Clara and Arabella.

Con.

If Love alone be difficult to bear,

And that Loves torments are encreas'd by fear,

Tho' fear denote some hope, Love paid with scorn,

Being void of hope's much harder to be born.

How have I fin'd! that I'me compell'd to prove

The utmost rigours both of scorn, and love:

Great Deity forgive! and next abate

My love like his; as one teach both to hate.

Or if I still must dote by your decree,

Yet mitigate my cruel destiny.

And make Amante feel a scornful hate,

May equalize the rigour of my fate.

That so,

Wearied with scorns, his penitence may prove,

More advantageous than his feigned Love.

Exit.

[Page]

Scena Quarta.

Buggio, Honorio.

Bug.

Where dost think I met thy Mistress?

Hon.

My Mistress!

Bug.

Make it not so strange, the Lady of your

Publick address, the Lady Arabella.

Hon.

The Lady Arabella! Where?

Bug.

See▪ if your countenance speaks not truth for you:

Be Master of a better temper,

Or hang me if I tell you a Syllable.

Hon.

I'le tell you more without a Covenant;

Amante does with solemn Oaths deny

Those base aspersions which you swore he lay'd

Upon my Sisters Fame: And tho'he be

A Vagabond in Love, yet I believe him

A Man of Honour, that wou'd not eat his words;

Besides the Oath of silence you impos'd,

Begets suspicion.

Bug.

This comes by telling lyes, damnable lyes;

To please my fancy I expose my throat,

(aside)

And with a Pox must be Romantick still.

Hon.

Signior, I expect your answer.

Bug.

Sir, since my zeal and over-fond affection,

Has rendred me a sufferer in your thoughts;

I shall become more careful for the future

Of busie friendship, and a pur-blind zeal,

And find at present ways to vindicate

The truth.

Hon.

That will oblige me to implore your pardon,

For my unjust suspicion.

Bug.

'Tis confidence I see, must bear me out.

(aside)

Time will make all things plain.

Hon.

The time is riper Sir, than you suppose,

[Page]For by appointment, I'me to meet Amante

This Night in single Combate.

Bug.

Then I have made fine work, and shall no doubt

Have my dear Guts carv'd in Italian Cut-works,

Or my poor Carkass pounded to a Sawsage.

Hon.

If now you please to honour me so far

As to appear my Second, you'l thereby approve

Your truth, and friendship.

Bug.

Second!—A Pox of all lying, it will lie

Heavy on my blood one day, or other; and

Yet if I shou'd be hang'd for't, my very body

Cou'd not chuse but lie, after 'twere dead.

Enter Cicco, Furfante.

Cic.

Furfante, When we meet Company, whisper me.

Fur.

Yonder's Signior Honorio Sir, my young

Mistresses Servant.

Cic.

Good day Signior Honorio.

Hon.

How the Devil does he to see me at this

Distance, that gropes from one Room to another;

And knows not the way to his Mouth

But by custom—I joy to see you Sir,

That I may enquire of my souls chief

Happiness, my Arabella, how fares my life?

Cic.

In perfect health, like sad Penelope she

Moanes the absence of her Love, you make

Your self too much a Stranger.

Hon.

She makes m'indeed a Stranger to her heart,

VVhere I cou'd wish to be more intimate

Than Friends appear'd before the World knew fraud.

But since she's pleas'd to have it otherwise,

My duty's to submit.

Cic.

Talk not to me of duty, or submission; your flames

And flatteries make them proud; your terming

Them Deities make them forget ther frailty,

Calling them Mistresses, you teach them disobedience, Signior Honorio:

You have my voice, if she's mine, she's mine

To dispose.

[Page]Hon.

Doubt not her just obedience, she'll comply

In ev'ry thing she can; but Tyrant love

Does so our reason and our will surmount,

It makes all tyes besides of no account.

Cic.

Allow Girles reason, and will! that were fine i'faith.

Bug.

I see y'are busie Sir, I'le take my leave.

Cic.

VVho's that, Furfante?

Hon.

Stay but a Minute, and I'le wait upon you,

In the mean time, consider of the business.

Bug.

Shou'd I refuse, he'd fight with me himself,

Tho' I perform nothing I'le promise fair.

Cic.

Does he turn this way yet?

Fur.

He does, speak aloud, for he's at some distance.

Cic.

Signior Buggio, my old acquaintance!

I protest I saw you not.

Fur.

He may believe him, for he has been

Blind these five years.

Bug.

Your Age excuses you.

Cic.

I am not wont to make such gross mistakes.

Fur.

Thanks to my Eyes, and your Ears.

Cic.

Old as I am, these Eyes will serve me without spectacles.

Fur.

As well as with'em.

Bug.

I've heard, you have that sense so perfect,

That you can see the point of a Needle

At twelve score.

Cic.

Then Signior Buggio, you have heard a truth.

Fur.

He neither cares to hear, nor speak one.

Cic.

Son Honorio.

Hon.

That Title honours me, and revives my hopes.

Cic.

Hopes! I'le have 'em certainties, the day

Appointed, and that quickly too.

Hon.

You speak the Language of the Gods, prepare

My Arabella for a free consent,

And Hymen shall soon make us one.

Cic.

Say no more, I'le have't dispatch'd

To morrow, the privater, the better.

Fur.

For his Purse.

[Page]Cic.

Fursante!

Hon.

This suddenness surprizes me,

But old men do all by fits.

And I will sooner lose my life

Than this blest opportunity.

Cic.

I hope you'l wait upon your friend to morrow.

Exeunt Cicco & Furfante.

Bug.

I sooner may neglect my self than him.

Hon.

You have consider'd my proposal?

Bug.

I have, and with a double joy receive

The honour, as vindicator both of my same,

And truth.

Hon.

You'l approve your self a worthy Gentleman.

The Place is Pantalonies Grove, the hour Six.

Bug.

I understand you Sir.—If I observe

(aside)

Either time or place, I'le be fley'd, and

Have Vellum made of my Hide for Historians

T [...] write authentick History—your Servant Sir.

Hon.

A word, you seem'd at first to intimate

Somewhat concerning my Arabella.

Bug.

True, I did—But—

Hon.

Mince not the matter, this old mans suddenness

Does justly give me cause of jealousie,

Which we esteem high wisdoms sentinel,

Cause it alar'ms fear, and straight awakes

Suspending doubt, which actions wisely stay

'Till discreet reason can prepare their way.

(aside)

Bug.

I shall so claw your wisdom.

Hon.

Dear Buggio, be particular in what

Your hast did make appear of some concern.

Bug.

Yes, and have my Throat cut for my labour,

Sure, I shall learn more wit.

Hon.

Nay, how you play the Tyrant! that Friendship's

Poor, which danger can affright,

And he loves little can't forgive his Friend

VVhen 'twas not he, but's Passion did offend.

Bug.

The danger, which I fear's to incur your hate;

[Page]Yet that I'le wave, with all the interest

Of divine Friendship, rather than conceal

Ought that may affront your love or honour.

Hon.

Thou wilt oblige me to Eternity.

Bug.

In short, I saw your Arabella, Signior,

VVith young Amante on the Grand Canale

In a Felucca rowing toward Leghorn,

Adorn'd with all the Gallantries of Art,

Harmonious Musick entertain'd her Ear,

Perfumes her smell, which much enrich'd the Air,

A Banquet and delicious Wines her taste,

VVhil'st he appear'd the object of her Eye,

And pleas'd her more than that variety.

Hon.

Hell, and Devils! Art thou sure 'twas he?

Bug.

As sure—What? Dost thou take me for an Atheist?

Have I any Faith? have I any Eyes?

Hon.

Enough—you will not fail at Six.

Bug.

I'le sooner fail my Grannam on her Death-bed,

VVhen she's bestowing Legacies.

Exit.

Hon.

Were not Constantius injuries sufficient

But thou must wound more near, and having struck

My Honour, must destroy my Love, and wound

A Chasti [...]y my Soul did glory in?

Thy injuries confound my patience

And revenge, and make me think Heaven unjust,

That gave thee so much power to offend,

And but one life to make me satisfaction;

But I'le denounce a War against thy blood,

And thence proceed to thy affinities.

Nor shall my vengeance slacken, much less end,

Whil'st thou hast left, a Kinsman or a Friend.

Exit.

[Page]

Scena Quinta.

Riccamare, Garbato.

Ric.

Our agreement's this, if this Damsel of sixscore

And odd, be worth the sums you talk off,

And will marry me, I am to procure my

Niece Arabella's Company at my house, and

Make you a Collation; if it do not sccceed

you forfeit two hundred Crowns.

Garb.

You have an exact memory. View now

The Fabrick.

Ric.

It looks like an old ruin of Egypt.

Garb.

Or rather like a relique of the Flood;

Sure it was built in the In [...]ancy of time,

Before the World was acquainted with proportion,

Or Architectu [...]e.

Ric.

Knock, I long to survey the Inhabitants

Of this Monument, if she be rich enough

'Twill make amends.

Garb.

Nay, you must expect nothing but antiquity:

Her Parlour will appear like a Brokers shop,

Every Stool of a several Parish.

Enter Sanco-panco.

But here comes her general Officer—I must

Dispatch him Embassadour to his Lady,

Before I can proceed with my description.

Ric.

This is some Egyptian Mummy preserv'd

By a petrifying Vapour, he moves as if he

Had no Soul.

Exit Sanco-panco.

VVhat strange African Monster's that?

Garb.

A moveable suitable to her other appurtenances.

But to my description; The Cushions in her

VVindows look by the Anti que Embroidery

[Page]Like Reliques sav'd at the Sack of Ierusalem,

And the Velvet of the Couch like an High

Priests Cope, that had lay'n buried nine Ages.

Ric.

If she be parallel to these, I shall be VViv'd.

Garb.

I fear she'll prove the greater antiquity.

Ric.

Good Gold, fortifie my Stomach strongly.

Garb.

But she's rich, that's all thou car'st for.

Ric.

True, in being so, she's all, All I can wish.

Enter Sanco-panco▪

Garb.

And here returns our Sanco-panco, Porter,

Usher, Steward, Butler, Coach-man, or what

You please, to conduct you to your Indies.

Sanc.

After my Mistresses hearty commendations

Presented unto you.

Ric.

'Slife, he's her Secretary too, and is directing

A Letter of thanks for a Country Cake.

Sanc.

My Mistress bid me notifie her intentions

Are to see you.

Ric.

She can see yet, that's some comfort.

Good Sir Lancelot, do your Office, and Marshal us.

Sanc.

I shall shew you up to my Mistresses Chamber.

Ric.

Now if I can but obtain her.

Garb.

Fear nothing, pray for a good Stomach,

Say Grace, and fall too.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Buggio and Constantia.

Bug.

Unless you call upon your Apron-strings

For some device, that may confine him home,

You'l loose a Brother, and a Servant, Lady.

Con.

Are you to be his Second?

Bug.

Madam I ever us'd to appear first

In these Encounters, but my respect to you—

[Page]Con.

I shall ever own the Obligation.

Bug.

Y'are most obliging, 'tis a pious work;

You will prevent the direst Massacre

Con.

I doubt not but I shall perswade my Brother▪

Bug.

I wish you may, for your fair sake I wish it,

Else ne're expect to see a Brother more:

For my own part, I think that I can die

As decently as another;

And sell my life too, at as dear a rate

As any flesh alive, for all their Guns,

Petars, Granadoes, and Demy culverings,

Con.

Heaven bless us.

Bug.

Madam, you are fore-warn'd, I must prepare,

I mean for mischief, and to bro [...]ch new lies.

(aside)

Exit.

Con.

His words are terrible, shou'd this be true;

I lose at once a Lover, and a Brother.

'Tis safe to fear the worst, some way [...]'le prove

To save their lives, 'altho I lose their Love.

Exit.

Actus Secundus.

§

Arabella, Clara, in Boyes Apparel.

Ara.

TEll me thy Name, and Parentage.

Cla.

My name is Infortunio, for my Birth,

I claim an honest, but no high discent,

A Shepherds Son in Sicily.

Ara.

Infortunio!

Cla.

A Name which answers my misfortunes, Madam.

Ara.

Alas thy face does shew the petty griefs

Thy Age has undergone, the Sun did broil

Or the cold Air did sometimes make thee quake,

Or hunger tyranniz'd for want of break▪ fast

[Page]Upon thy empty Stomach: can'st thou sing?

Inf.

According to our Rural way I can.

Ara.

Pretty Boy! Prithee be not so bashful,

But begin.

Song.

1

If love enjoy'd's the greatest bli [...]e

A mortal [...]an sustain,

The greatest pain

Must be the contrary to this,

Cruel disdain.

No Passion's harder to be born,

Than Love, when 'tis repay'd with scorn.

2

I'de rather have my Love untrue

And giv'n to flattery,

Then shou'd I be

So happy as to have him sue

For Love to me.

And if his fal [...]hood prove too great,

At pleasure sound the first retreat.

3

But when men the advantage have

To shew the first disdain

They thereby gain

The Priviledg to kill, or save,

Encrease our pain,

And make us Perish by their scorn,

Or live by smiles, like [...]assals born.

Ara.

How happy is this Boy, who sings his Aires,

And makes his pastime out of others cares!

Ah that I were as ignorant as he,

He knows no love, therefore no misery,

[Page]But Women are too apt (heav'n knows) to learn,

To wish, to blush, and next to have concern.

Enter Cicco, Furfante.

Fur.

Yonder's my young Mistress, Sir.

Cic.

Lead me to her, what Company?

Fur.

Only a Page, a little Youth.

Cic.

A very pretty Youth.

Fur.

Of a black, as e're you saw.

Cic.

Yes, yes, I see that, a pretty Moor.

Cla.

Is he mad, or blind, or both?

Fur.

He's blind, and mad, and both.

Cic.

These are but shifts, Apron-string policies,

No more, 'tis my command, shew your obedience.

You have not seen Garbato lately?

Ara.

You did command the contrary, and I obey'd.

Cic.

It well became your duty—

He'll be so wise I hope t'absent himself,

His entertainment shan't incite him hither,

Let Beggars marry in their Tribe, and so

Maintain their race, I must have you prepare

To be the rich Honorio's Bride.

Ara.

Dear Sir—

Cic.

Nay no reply, your warning's short, I'le see

You married my self to morrow Morning.

Fur.

He talks of seeing still, where are his Eyes?

Cla.

Can'st not perceive, they're alwayes in his Mouth.

Fur.

You mistake, his sight's there, his eyes

Are in his head.

Cic.

Here, take this Purse, and see you fit your self.

Exit Cicco.

Ara.

What for a Sepulcher?

Cla.

A Bridal Bed, dear Madam.

Ara.

'T were less injurious to wish a Tomb.

Cla.

I'me glad she hates him yet, there's some hope le [...]t,

If my poor stars prove kind, however I'le

Aid them.

Madam, so strange a sadness clouds your Soul

[Page]As wou'd move pitty in a senseless Statue,

Therefore impute it not to impudence,

If in compassion of your miseries,

I proffer my poor service to perswade

Honorio to forsake your Love, and leave you

To your choice.

Ara.

Thou speak'st a blessing rather to be wish'd,

Than hop'd for, or obtain'd.

Cla.

Be not distrustful.

You know not how my innocence can plead,

Arm'd with your cause; if he has any pity,

I'le use such soft and tender language to him

As shall dissolve his soul into compassion.

Ara.

Thou hast indeed a moving language Boy,

And thy looks, with me, have power to perswade

Beyond the Charms and Tropes of Rhetorick.

May they with him find equal grace, and Power.

Tell him my heart, and love, was pre-dispos'd;

That 'tis not Pride, but Love, refuses him;

Bid him not take it ill, that I am constant,

For Death to me is welcomer than change:

That if he ceases to prosecute my fate

He will deserve my pitty, and such Love

As gratitude, and honour can dispense.

But if he will persist my dreadful'st hate,

That from my Love he'll at such distance be

He scarcely will be worth my Charity.

Cla.

When he knows this, he'll surely blame his Love,

And straight endeavour to suppress his flame.

But I wrong your service by deserring it.

Exit.

Ara.

Whil'st he employes his richest eloquence

In mitigation of Honorio's Love,

I must make use of my own diligence

To find Garbato and discover to him

The hasty rigour of my Fathers Will▪

I am inform'd he often does frequent

[Page]My Uncles House, but upon what design

I can't surmise, unless he hope from thence

To reap advantage to our love:

However boldly, I'le adventure there,

She shou'd fear nought, 'has every thing to fear.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Riccamare, Garbato.

Ric.

As she's set together, she appears

Reasonably handsome.

Garb.

Like the grave Governess of a Roman Bawdy-house,

But when she's disjoynted, like a new dissected

Anatomy, then tell me thy opinion.

Ric.

I warrant you, a gilded Pill will down.

But did'st observe her Conscience, how 'twas spiced?

Garb.

Like a Wassal bowl, or a pepper posset, it bit agen.

She's not like our Shop-keepers, that vent their

Wares by a false light, she'll have you survey

The Commodity well, that you may not repent

The bargain.

Ric.

Blame her not, she's honest and kind.

Garb.

As Cats when they first grow proud, all her

Caresses will consist in scratching, and like

The Russian Lasses, she must be basted, to be

Made sensible of thy kindness.

Ric.

The Woman's well, considering her Wealth.

Garb.

I fear thou'lt scarce like her when thou

Hast seen her imperfections.

Ric.

Why, are they so horrid?

Gar.

Faith I know not, but the Ceremonie gives

Much of Terrour—she's made of several

Loose Parcells, that's certain; and to have an

Arm taken off, turn into a Cats paw; her

[Page]Nose convert to a Swines Snout, her Periwig

To Hares, and her Legs to Grey-hounds to course

Them, wou'd it not startle thee?

Ric.

Thou art as whimsical as a Court Lady

Studying of new fashions, I cannot imagine.

Half these deformities.

Garb.

May she prove the Figure of Helen! or rather

May her wealth make her appear so!

Enter Amante.

My dear Amante, 'tis above an Age,

Since I had last the happiness to see you.

Aman.

Perhaps you'll wish you had not seen me now.

Garb.

You wrong our Friendship much; your reason Sir?

Aman.

Dismiss that Gentleman, and I'le inform you.

Ric.

I shall see you at my lodging.

Garb.

In time to wait upon you to the party.

Garbato Whispers Riccamare.

Exit Riccamare.

Ric.

Be sure you don't forget.

Garb.

You know my forfeit. Now Friend I am yours.

Aman.

You knew my Love once to Constantia.

Garb.

And have lamented oft, the change.

Aman.

That Crime must be imputed Sir to Love,

Or beauty which commands it; however now

I am summon'd to answer it with my Sword.

Garb.

I thought Constantia had prevail'd upon

Her Brothers rage, to let it sleep.

Aman.

'T was so believ'd, and that she had consin'd

His fury by an Oath; I must avow

Her pity therein did affect me much,

For I was loth to justifie a Crime

Love made me so unwillingly commit.

Garb.

What's the occasion then of this new quarrel?

Aman.

I know not well, but he seems to charge me

With fresh injuries, which I averring false,

He call'd me Coward, thy Friend Amante Coward.

Garb.

Just Gods! and when d'you Combate him?

Aman.

Immediately, if you but honour me so far,

[Page]As to appear my second▪

Garb.

You know you may command me.

Aman.

'Tis time we did attend him.

Garb.

Away, this Arm unto my Sword shall lend

A double vigour to revenge my Friend.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Constantia.

Con.

Now that my Brother's safe, my next design

Must be, how to secure his same, for honour

To a Cavaleer of his Complexion

Is of more dear concern by far than life:

'Tis an hard Task, yet what I want in Art

My Courage shall supply, for I'me all heart:

I heard some tread, I will obscure a while.

She hides behind a Tree.

Enter Buggio.

Bug.

The Coast is clear, and I've time to invent

Some delicate Romance, a fine-spun lie

To please my fancy, and to save my bones,

Shou'd fair Constantia miss of her design

To stay Honorio.

Con.

He speaks of me, I'le listen nearer.

Bug.

If he come first Amante's very sick▪

And sent a Messenger to make excuse.

But if Amante on Honorio's behalf,

I'le make submission.

Con.

Base▪ Slave!

Bug.

And beg a pardon for the injuries

He did him: oh delicate, dainty lyes!

How you tickle, and delate my Genius!

There is no Paradise, but in Romance.

Con.

What a strange Fellow's this? yet to me

[Page]I fear his Story was too true, for see

Amante comes.

Enter Amante, Garbato.

Bug.

Now for a dainty fancy to make Fools—

Aman.

We are in time I see, here's only Buggio,

And without a Sword.

Gar.

Oh he's a Man of peace.

Bug.

He shou'd be a Conjurer by his Guess.

Con.

'Tis time I shew my self.

Bug.

Noble Gallants, Signior Honorio—

Con.

Honorio! If any here have ought

To say against him, I appear his Champion,

And in the just defence of his true Honour

Oppose my Innocence to your rude Swords.

Bug.

She has spoyl'd the rarest Fable brain e're

Gave being to—Cursed Woman—

Exit.

Gar.

Is not this Constantia?

Aman.

The same.

Con.

Yes 'tis [...]he same, the same Constantia;

I wou'd you were the same Amante too!

But wherefore shou'd I wish you so much ill?

No, prosper in your Love, and set in me

A period to your hate.

Aman.

How much I prize your life, the Gods bear witness.

Con.

How little you esteem my love, this heart

Can witness; yet tell me, false, and cruel,

How many new vexations you design me?

Y'ave rob'd my heart of Love, my life of peace,

And now pursue my sole surviving comfort,

My Brothers life.

Aman.

Alas I pitty your misfortunes Madam,

And own my self unworthy of your Love,

Vil'd and inconstant;

But for your Brother as he made the strife,

'Tis justice he shou'd answer't with his life.

Con.

His life! can nothing else obtain his peace?

[Page]Aman.

Ballance my injuries, and be you Judg▪

He has reproach'd me with a Cowards name,

And with much baseness urg'd me to the Field,

Himself not daring as a Gentleman to meet

Me here, or give me satisfaction.

Con.

Suspend your sentence till you understand▪

By what necessity he is detain'd,

I've lock'd him up, and am come here my self

To make you Friends, or else supply his Room,

If we must fight, come on,

She draws her Sword [...]

Yet sure you'l gain

But small repute, to kill a Maid [...] slain

By Love before, whose valour will appear,

More in her tongue than hand, most in a Tear.

Aman.

My heart dissolves, I shall forget my wrong [...].

Gar.

Friend, let me intercede, who can deny

A Lady pleading with a weeping Eye?

'T was for her sake Honorio did forgive

Your change in Love, for her sake let him live.

Aman.

I am content, we're on an even score▪

Besides it is as little as I can do

In satisfaction for my wrongs to you.

Con.

This is a relique of some kindness yet,

But once your love, and vowes did promise more,

I now must study to forget both them, and you,

Farewel for ever.

Exit.

Aman.

She's passionate.

Gar.

Sh'as reason for't, her injuries wou'd vex

The strongest Patience of that Noble Sex.

Exeunt.

[Page]

Scena Quarta.

Honorio at a Window.

Hon.

Sister! Constantia, Sister! sure she's deaf,

Or some infectious Vapour makes her mad

To lock me up thus; Curse of her design!

My honour's wounded to Eternity,

But how the Devil she shou'd come to hear

Of our appointment is beyond my brains

Or reason to conceive. Hell take her care!

She kills my honour to preserve my life;

And who can say she han't destroy'd her own,

And made me fast to play at loose her self?

Unto its Center I will sift her heart,

Level a Prospect to her very soul,

But I will know her thoughts, her hidden thoughts,

I've made a passage through three locks already,

This is beyond my skill, or strength to force.

Enter Clara, as Infortunio.

'Tis almost Night, I'le call on yonder Boy.

Cla.

This certainly must be Honorio's House.

Hon.

Youth, kind Youth.

Cla.

'Tis he! Pray what's your pleasure?

Hon.

Good Youth step to the adjacent street

And fetch a Smith; my Family are gone,

To th' festival, and lock'd me in.

Cla.

'Twill be a kindness to my self,

For I have business with you.

Hon.

Prithee dear Boy dispatch, I long to hear it.

Cla.

I'le bring you straight your freedom.

Exit.

Honorio shuts the Window.

[Page]

Scena Quinta.

Furfante, Cicco.

Cic.

Arabella not come home, and night!

Eur.

VVhen is't other with him? the Sun

Is half an hour high Sir.

Cic.

Yes, yes, I think it be.

he peeps up towards the sky.

Fur.

He peakes into the Element

Like an Astrologer, that picks out

Good Stars for others, and unlucky ones

For himself.

Cic.

No, no, the Sun is not so high.

Fur.

You might swear it, cou'd you see the Candles.

Cic.

'Tis just a quarter high, or there about.

Fur.

You are more than three quarters blind.

Cic.

But that's Night in a manner.

Fur.

Blindness is alwayes Night in a manner,

Cic.

What's that you say Sirrah of good Manners?

Fur.

Not I Sir, I had never any to talk of.

Cic.

Nay, you're a sawcy Knave, did Arabella

Take any body with her?

Fur.

No, Sir, [...]he was loth to promote the Cook-maid,

And my Livery was sick of a Rupture.

Cic.

Did she say nothing?

Fur.

She were not a Woman then; she told me all

Her Wedding Intrigues, but her tongue went

So merrily, and my memory was such a Jade

We cou'd not keep pace.

Cic.

If she be gone about her marriage necessaries

She won't be long, come let's about her

Preparations here at home.

Fur.

We are like to have wonderful doings, and much

Sobriety; our Wine will come up in Physical

Viols, and we shall drink it out of Acorns.

[Page]Cic.

Are the provisions come?

Fur.

Yes Sir, Coleworts in abundance, Lettice, Anchovies,

And Mushroomes, the Feast will make a rare

Grand Salade.

Cic.

No flesh Varlet?

Fur.

A pair of Pidgeons, half a dozen of La [...]s, a

Monstrous Quaile, and as much Butchers meat

As a pair of Mice yoak'd to a Peascod can

Conveniently draw.

Cic.

You think y'are in England to clog your stomach

With Buttock Beef.

Fur.

Wou'd mine were a Porter, upon condition

It bore no worse a burthen.

Cic.

Be content Rascal, thou sha [...] swefeit on

Macharoni, and Vermicelli.

Fur.

A Pox of your Minestras, give me Beef.

Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Constantla.

Con.

Just like a Felon by his guilt pursu'd

I've trac'd the Streets; for every little noise

Begets new terrors, and my erring fancy

Frames out of nothing, objects to affright me.

But soft, I hear some footing.

Enter Clara.

Cla.

'Tis very late, for ev'ry one's a Bed

Except some Lovers, who do serenade

Their Mistresses, no Smith can I prevail with;

They tell me that [...]tis time to rest▪ but I

Can meet with no such season.

Con.

This Youth is as timorous, as I.

Cla.

That' voice shou'd be Constantias.

Con.

He nam'd, me, I am [...]ost.

[Page]Cla.

Madam Constantia.

Con.

Protect me sacred Innocence! I know you not,

What are you?

Cla.

A Friend, and yet unknown.

Con.

I do not cove [...] new acquaintances.

Cla.

Fear not, I was desired by Honorio,

(Lock'd up through some mistake of his Domesticks)

'To fetch a Smith.

Con.

I hope you have sent none, I have the Keyes.

Cla.

I han't, for surfeited with this days Feast,

They went, I think, all drunk to bed, sooner

At least than usually.

Con.

I shall perform their Office.

Cla.

Nay I must attend you.

Con.

Excuse [...]our self the trouble, and my modesty

The Guilt of being seen with you so late.

Cla.

I am too young for such a jealousie.

Besides I have a message to your Brother.

Con.

D [...]e [...] it till the Morning; now 'tis late.

Cla.

It does require a more quick dispatch.

Con.

I cannot shift him off, what shall I do?

'T were madness to return, to stay here worse

I'le then rely upon my Virtues force.

Exeunt.

ACTUS III.

SCENA I.

Honorio, Constantia, Clara,

Hon.

SIster, Ple [...]anvafs your affair at leasure,

And as you [...]atisfie my doubts,

Conclude your guilt, or innocence.

Con.

My Virtue Sir dare suffer any Test.

Exit.

Hon.

I do both wish, and hope it, now thy message.

[Page]Cla.

Y' are to resolve me a short question first.

Hon.

Willingly, proceed.

Cla.

Do you entirely love fair Arabella?

Hon.

Do I love honour, life, or health? she's more,

Commands my soul, governs my heart.

Cla.

She that has all the power you confess,

Has sent you a Command.

Hon.

Which I'le obey more joyfully, than Slaves

Receive their liberties, speak thy command.

Cla.

'Tis to leave loving her.

Hon.

Cease to Iove her! I tell thee cruel youth

I must first cease to live.

Cla.

Behold the [...]ruth of men! did you not say

She sway'd your heart, yet see if you'l obey.

Hon.

You must distinguish Boy, if she by love

(As that's her only Title) sway my heart▪

I am no longer bound to an obedience,

Than whil'st her high commands suit with that love:

But when she waves that right, and bids it cease,

I justly disobey, her hate, not her.

For if a Monarch shou'd command me kill him▪

VVere't not in me a Treason to obey?

Surely it were, nor can my Inconstancy,

'Cause she commands it, a Iess Treason be.

Cla.

He argues cunningly—But you'l appear

A double Traytor, both to her, and love,

If you obey not, for on this command

Depends her love, and life.

Hon.

I understand you not, explain your self.

Cla.

Sir, I shall both explain my self, and her.

Love gives her to Garbato, she'd have you

Cease your false claim, and let him have his due.

Hon.

My answer Boy, shall be as home, and brief.

Her duty makes he [...] mine, and I'de have her

Banish my Rival, and my Love prefer.

Cla.

It rests in you to mitigate her Crime,

Her Father too with duty m [...]y dispense,

[Page]But there are none, when mutual vows are knit

Can cancel Love, till death determine it.

Is she contracted then?

Cla.

Less cou'd not disingage her from her duty.

Hon.

Tell her I shall not discompose her peace,

Nor long I fear survive her cruelty.

Cla.

Oh that he had but this concern for me!

Hon.

Having deliver'd this short message to her,

Obtain her leave to visit me again:

Methinks your Faces have such sweet resemblance

I cou'd delude my Passion, and adore

In thee my Arabella.

Cla.

I will not fail to visit you.

Hon.

Do my kind Boy, and then we'll weep together,

And sigh, and sing grief to a Lethargy,

Shall we not Boy?

Cla.

You shall command me any thing.

Exeunt severally.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Furfante.

Fur.

So, thanks to my happy fate, he's fast again,

And thinks it wants three hours yet of day,

What a Rogue was I t' abuse a poor blind Man

Thus? by making him believe 't Night, and that

His Daug [...]ter's return'd, when she's as far from

Being visible as the Motion of time on a Dial.

Enter Buggio.

Bug.

Where's thy Master?

Fur.

Measuring his length, upon a Feather-bed, a sleep,

Bug.

This Fellow has got my faculty, and lyes extempore▪

The Sun is mounted in the Meridian.

Fur.

But I perswaded my Master it was not full East.

Bug.

Delicate Varlet, I cou'd kiss thee, did he lend faith?

Fur.

Like a young Mercer, who had never been deceiv'd

By a Court Customer; he believ'd most religiously.

Bug.

As many do by an implicite faith.

[Page]But how goes the Wedding forward?

Fur.

As honest Men thrive, and Crabs crawl, backwards,

Backwards—the Bride's fled Sir.

Bug.

Escap'd!

Fur.

Like a Canary Bird, fled to her Country.

Bug.

What Province is that?

Fur.

A Place most Virgins delight in, their

Lovers bosom.

Bug.

Thou'rt a rare Rogue, does the old Man

Know it?

Fur.

He dreams as little of it as a Thief of the

Gallows, whil'st he's committing Burglary.

Bug.

Does he not miss her?

Fur.

Yesternight he did, but now thinks her safe

At home between flaxen.

Bug.

Thou mean'st a Bed, did'st tell him so?

Fur.

I did a little impose upon his faith.

Bug.

Sweet Rascal, let me hug thee, thou

May'st in time grow up a Mr.

Fur.

In the Art of lying.

Bug.

The Noble Science Varler.

Fur.

But now to make this good when he wakes

Wou'd be a Master-piece.

Bug.

Trust to these brains and I'le secure thee,

We'll perswade him he slept two days,

And dream't a third.

Fur.

And I have such a quickning Mornings draught.

Bug.

Will it exalt the Genius?

Fur.

To the fift Region.

Bug.

Let's in, and taste it Boy; may it inspire

Our Sculls with fancy, and our Noses fire.

Exeunt.

[Page]

Scena Tertia.

Riccamare, Garbato, Arabella▪

Ric.

I'le neither meddle, nor make with you that's flat;

I cannot answer't to my Brother.

Gar.

Prithee change humours; As he pretends to see,

And sees not, seem you blind tho' you see.

Ric.

I've been blind too long, when she came, she

Wou'd but speak a Word▪ and straight return.

Ara.

But having weigh'd my Fathers temper since,

(VVhich as you know is highly passiona [...]e)

I dare not tempt his fury by my presence

Till by some Friend I mediate my peace.

Gar.

Nor can I think it safe; she ought to be

Of some concern to you; you are her Uncle.

Ric.

I can't go with her now, were she my Mother.

You know my concern.

Gar.

Let her [...] here till our return.

Ric.

Not I, carry her where you please, I won't be

Known I ever saw her.

Gar.

Then I must wait her home, all places else

VVill be injurious to her [...]ame.

Ric.

You promis'd to attend me to the VVidow.

Gar.

And you to me a Treat, of which your

Niece was to partake.

Ric.

And will perform it.

Gar.

Very like, and grutch your Niece a poor

Days habitation.

Ric.

VVell Signior, you shall [...]ee the contrary

[...]'le hazard for your sakes, my Brothers love,

Niece you shall stay a week and welcom.

Gar.

This favour will oblige me still to serve you.

Ric.

But since I hazard for your sakes a Brother's

Love, I hope you'l spare my Purse

[Page]In th' entertainment.

Gar.

Most willingly, and if our stay be long▪

Pay for our Diets too, at your own rate.

Ric.

We shall not disagree, so, here's profit,

My Widow, and my Niece are at distance

With her Father, all makes for me, our time

Draws near.

Exit Riccamare.

Gar.

I'le wait upon you.

Though we have gain'd a breathing time

For love.

And fortune seems t' applaud our enterview,

Yet still my timerous concerns for thee

Grow strong upon me, and allay my Joyes.

Ara.

Let's not destroy our present happiness

With fears of what may happen, leav't

To time.

Let Fathers rage, and fate denounce our ruin.

Yet-whil'st we Love, and can thus breath

Our Vowes,

Into each others breasts, what can impair

Our real happiness?

Gar.

Whil'st you continue thus, fortune may show

Her teeth, but never bite us—But I forget.

Your Uncle—like of my soul! farewel.

Exit.

Ara.

So dying Bodies with their Spirits part,

So Virgins to their Ravishers do yield

Their honours up, with such a dying smart

Does wounded honour oft forsake the Field,

As I Garbato's sight, till whose return,

My heart seems dead, my body as its urn.

[Page]

Scena Quarta.

Furfante, drest like a VVoman on one side, and like himself on the other, and Buggio.

Fur.

And how do I become the Petticoat?

Bug.

As a Thief the Gallows, admirably well.

Fur.

If I can but counterfeit a Voice, between

Laughing and crying, a right Womans voice;

I am past discovery to a blind Man.

Bug.

Study Pythagoras, and transform thy self to

A Parsons Pig, that squeak will do it.

Fur.

No I will speak like a Bakers Widow

Kneading of Cake-bread for her Husbands Funeral.

Bug.

Either will serve with the help of my faculty.

Enter Clara.

But what Dandiprat's this?

Fur.

A Pillow Querister, that sings my Lady a sleep.

Bug.

And after plays with her Lips to make

Her Dream of kisses.

Fur.

Kisses are loves earnest before they seal

The bargain, but if we don't feal his Lips,

Our design will be reduc'd to its first principle,

Nothing.

Bug.

Fear not, we'll make him as silent as a Chamber

Maid in her Lords bed, when her Lady lyes over her.

Fur.

Or she under him, the Simile will hold both ways.

Cla.

Where's my Lady? ha, ha, ha, I cannot forbear

Laughing whilst I look on him.

Fur.

You might show better manners Sirrah.

Cla.

What, to a Fool?

Bug.

To your Lady, 'sdeath are you blind?

Cla.

I were blind indeed to mistake a Baboon

For a Phenix.

Bug.

I wonder Madam, you'l keep such a Jack-sawce

[Page]Fur.

I must have him corrected,

Cla.

This is rare fooling.

Bug.

He's beyond drunk, mad, or bewitch'd.

Cla.

These impudent Fellows are able to outface

Truth, and make her fly the Dukedom.

Bug.

Nay you must not enter there.

Cla.

VVhat do they mean? I begin to fear them,

For certainly they are extreamly drunk;

Furfante, without fooling, where's my Lady?

Fur.

Thou sawcy impudence.

Bug.

I wonder Madam that you don't discharge him.

Cla.

Tho' Furfante plays the Rogue, th' other

Seems a sober Gentleman.

Fur.

That's not your way Sirrah, get y'out of my Doors.

Bug.

How the Boy stares! do you not hear your Lady?

Cla.

I hear a sawcy Coxcomb.

Cicco within.

Cic.

Furfante, Arabella, Furfante.

Fur.

My Master comes, what shall we do?

This Boy will ruine us.

he seems to threaten.

Bug.

Let me alone to charm him, I'le make

Him believe the Devil walks above ground.

Enter Cicco.

Cic.

Are none of my Knaves within?

Or is my Daughter deaf—Furfante!

Fur.

Your pleasure Sir.

Speaks with his Maleside towards him.

Cic.

Did you not hear me call?

Fur.

I was so taken up with grief for my young Mistress.

Cic.

VVhy what of her?

Fur.

Alas poor Gentlewoman, she has wept her Eyes out.

Cic.

VVept! for what?

Fur.

Her Lover Signior Honorio who shou'd have made

Her a VVoman, with her own consent Sir.

Cic.

'Sdeath, what of him?

Fur.

VVhy Sir, he has disappointed her expectation;

He is not come according to promise, and

She poor Bride, sits yon [...] blubbering▪

[Page]Her Eyes out.

Cic.

Foolish Girl! 'tis early, he'll come, fear not.

Fur.

'Tis rather growing late Sir.

Cic.

'Tis breakfast time with thee.

Fur.

That's a season I never was acquainted with

Since I knew your VVorship, but if you please

'Tis dinner time.

Cic.

How Rogue! are we not newly up?

Fur.

You may take your ease, but we under—Officers

Of the Family, rose six hours ago.

Signior Buggio has been here these three hours.

Cic.

How! Signior Buggio, here?

Fur [...]ante [...] Clara.

Bug.

Your Servant Signior.

Cic.

Y'are welcom Sir, 'tis late it seems.

I wonder the Bridegroom comes not.

Bug.

'Tis past twelve half an hour.

Cic.

He's mad too, damnably mad, or drunk.

VVhy, I am but newly up.

Bug.

That's no nows to me Sir, we have

Ply'd you these four hours with hot Cloaths,

Till at last you began ro groan, and we

Believ'd it but a deep sleep.

Cic.

Did I appear so insensible?

Bug.

As if y'had been an Alabaster

Figure, for your own Tomb.

Cic.

'Tis strange, I feel my self well, and lusty.

Bug.

I'me sure we pinch'd you till our Fingers

Ak'd, and pull'd you by the Nose till the

Gristle crack'd, and made us fear the

Bridg-fall, yet all this while we saw

No sign of life.

Cic.

No sign of life! how my heart fails me?

Bug.

He looks as if he'd faint with imagination.

Cic.

Nay I find I was very ill.

Bug.

I never saw a Man nearer's grave, and live.

Cic.

I believe it, for my heart akes yet, I feel

A' strange pricking. Hem, a hem—But

[Page]Where's my Daughter?

Bug.

There's a second affiction too—the poor

Soul's undone.

Cic.

Undone! the Gods forbid!

Bug.

In her honour Sir, Honorio's gone to travel.

Cla.

My Wit shall teach me silence.

Cic.

Base Villain, to forsake my Daughter thus!

And cheat my good opinion of his worth;

But 'tis not Germany, nor all the World▪

Can hide his shame, tho' it secures him.

Bng.

It may prove false, all are not truths we hear.

Cic.

However Sir he can't be true to me,

Nor to my Child, the hour's long since past

He promis'd to be here, and make her his.

Fur.

He's rarely wrought, there is no Policy

Comparable to lying, and therefore I'le lye,

And tell lyes in this corner abundantly;

That is, counterfeit a Passion for my dear Honorio.

Cic.

Poor Girl! thy Passion made a better choice,

Than my too avaricious care; Gaxbato's love

Might have made thee more happy.

Cla.

This makes for Arabella.

Cic.

But Poverty's no Virtue doubting Fool.

Bug.

And blind Coxcomb to boot.

Cic.

'Tis good.

Since Manners are uncertain, we make sure▪

Of Gold, a Mineral that will endure.

Cla.

How small a time can age be generous!

But 'tis not strange; old Men are near the Grave,

And therefore care not how much earth they have.

Bug.

Your Daughter's full of grief, you wou'd do well

To comfort her.

Cic.

If I cou'd find her, this Rogue Furfante's

Still out oth' way, and I dare not call, for fear

Of discovering my imperfections.

Bug.

Sir you forget, your Daughter sits younder

The most forlorn.

[Page]Cic.

I see her well enough, but she's a counterfeit.

Bug.

The liker her Father.

Cic.

And tho' she seigns a grief, loves secretly Garbato.

Fur.

I may cry my Eyes out for him, a loving

Father I have.

whines

Cic.

Arabella.

Fur.

Sir.

Cic.

So I'le follow the voice, it came from

Yonder Corner, she's not here.

Furfante removes.

Bug.

How the blind Man's puzled?

Cic.

Why Arabella.

Fur.

Your pleasure Sir.

Cic.

My Ears [...]have fail'd, she's at th' other end,

I'le call her to me, and save my credit yet,

Must I call twenty times? why come you not?

Furfante goes to him with his Female side towards him, and Cicco feels him.

Bug.

Sure this Man has suffered a mutation of

Sense, his Eyes feel, and his fingers see.

Cla.

These Rogues make sport able to kill the

Weeping Philosopher with laughter.

Cic.

Poor Arabella, come forget him Child.

Fur.

No sooner forc'd my heart t' obedience Sir,

Begin to love him, but I must lose him, oh ho.

Cic.

This is not altogether counterfeit,

For she has alter'd much her voice with grieving.

As your obedience did first force your love

To this inconstant Man, so my commands

Do now require a change, forget him Girl.

Cla.

This will be happy news to Arabella

Cou'd I but find her out, I shall go near it.

Exit.

Cic.

My Arabella, what still blubbering?

Fur.

Good sweet honey Mistress, you'l so grieve my Mr.

Cic.

That Villain was here all this while.

I shall requite him. Fu [...]fante.

Speaks this with his Mans side towards him.

Fur.

Sir.

[Page]Cic.

VVhere stands my Daughter now?

Fur.

Alas she's gone weeping to her Chamber.

Cic.

There let her t [...]ars, discharge her grief,

But Rogue I shall make you more diligent.

Come lead me in.

pulls him by th' ears.

Fur.

Oh pray sweet, good Sir.

Exeunt.

Bug.

These lyes were carr [...]ed off with Gallantry,

The Management dilates my spleen, but

I'le not leave him thus, he's so excellent

A Subject for my brains to work on.

Exit.

Scena Quinta.

Amante.

Aman.

My Clara's gone, and I must never more

Expect to see those beauteous Eyes age [...],

Nor from the rays of her Divinity,

Receive one comfortable beam.

Enter Clara.

Cla.

'Tis Amante, I'le listen nearer.

Aman.

She's gone for ever, and I've nothing left

But her poor Aiery name to do [...]e upon;

Cou'd Heaven be so mercil [...]ss as to punish

VVith such severity one ship of Love?

Yet sure 'tis just since I did falsifie

My Vows to th' first, I for the second dye.

Cla.

I cannot apprehend this second love;

Constantia was his first.

Aman.

But wheresore she, she who was so guiltless

Of all my Crimes shou'd want a Monument,

Be lost to all Posterity, I apprehend not.

Cla.

All this discourse, is still beyond my reach.

Aman.

Yet blessed Clara, wherefoe're thou art,

[Page]Thou hast a Noble shrine within this breast.

he lies do [...]n.

Cla.

The ridle's now explain'd, 'tis me he loves.

For when I took this shape, 'twas given out

(By my command) that I was dead, but how,

Or where conceal'd; yet it seems strange

That I shou'd prove the cause of his Revolt

VVho ne're was yet belov'd, perhaps his Vow's

Directed to some other of my name,

I wish it were, I'le satisfie how e're my

Curiosity: ho! Signior Amante, ho!

He's in an Extasie, or else asleep.

Signior Amante.

Aman.

Ha! Thou blest Idea, and divinest form

Of that fair Maid my soul ador'd,

Instruct me where to find her Sepulchre.

Cla.

He takes me sure for Deaths Embassadour.

I understand you not, no [...] know I her.

Aman.

Do not disguise your message, for I know

Y' are sent by Clara, on some blest errand.

Cla.

I'le humour him, it may have good effect.

Sir 'tis most true I am by Clara sent,

VVhose restless soul wanders without content,

Because your Passion does disturb her peace,

If that you love her, you your flame will cease.

Else she as cause must suffer in her urn

For your inconstancy, therefore return

To your first love.

Exit Clara.

Aman.

Do I deprive my Clara of her bliss?

VVretch, let thy Crimes accumulate thy torments

Rather than injure her, but both's impossible.

How can she be concern'd in my Revolt,

That never knew my change? Heaven's too just:

She can but be an accidental cause,

And if to cause such bad effects were sin,

The Gods themselves are scarcely innocent.

Exit.

[Page]

Scena Sexta.

Strega, Sanco [...]Panco, Riccamare, Garbato.

Streg.

Sanco-panco.

Sanc.

VVhat wou'd your worship forsooth?

Streg.

Set the Gentlemen some stools Sanco.

Gar.

Does not thy Stomach begin to wamble?

And Rowl like a Ship in a storm?

Ric.

Thou art too curious, she's rich, and I can

Digest a few imperfections.

Gar.

As the chattering of her chops like a new beaten

Ape, which, together with the salivation

Of her Nose, makes her kiss as moist, as a

Young Girl, that licks her Lips after stew'd Prunes.

Ric.

Thou art a sworn enemy to old Women.

Strega Coughs.

Gar.

Mark that Cough; she has had it ever since

The cold she got in Nebuchadnezzars days,

Doing homage to the Golden [...]mage.

Streg.

Gentlemen be pleas'd to seat your selves.

Gar.

She straines a complement, as if she were

Costive upon a close stool.

Ric.

Peace Infidel, Thy whineling Courtship

To Arabella, is ten times more ridiculous.

They all seat themselves and Strega in a [...]icker-Chaire.

Streg.

Gentlemen, the observation of my younger

Days has instructed me from time to time

In the politick secrets of nuptial conjunction,

And of seven Husbands (heaven be prais'd)

I've buryed in my days, I found but one

That lov'd me for my self, Gallants, I

Mean for my well-favouredness, and this Man

Was my first, the other Six pretended Love,

[Page]But doted on my wealth: Now as my first

Did love for youth, and favour, my last must

Love for age, and comeliness of mind, I mean

Wisdom, and Experience.

Ric.

I am the Man that wou'd so love, and from

Each antique part of venerable age,

Make youthful pleasures spring joyes of mind.

Th' older the Body, and the more decay'd,

The soul's more youthful still and vigorous.

For as a Tenement that's held by time

Whose Walls and Roofes are half con [...]um'd by age

Enjoyes a freer influence of the Sun

Than Towers newly built, or modern Caves,

So you participate the knowledge of—

Gar.

Making May Butter.

Ric.

So you participate the knowledge of—

Gar.

The wonderful use of a dry dogs-turd.

Ric.

Pox on thee, peace, the knowledge of—

Gar.

Stewing Prunes, and Munching Marmalade.

Ric.

A Pox confound thee, the knowledg of—

The superiour Powers.

Gar.

A rare speech in commendation of—

Arabian Mummy.

Streg.

Sir I perceive your affection, and how directed

The right way to knowledg and experience.

Your discretion therein, I must tell you, takes

Me much—uh uh hu—very much uh hu hu—

Give me a stick of liquorish uh hu uh hu

When you have seen my five imperfections—

Gar.

I believe one may see the Devil, with less horrour.

Streg.

And like me then, I sha'n't be hard hearted.

Ric.

I long for tryal like a teeming Wench

In an Orchard. Your imperfections will at

Worst appear like foyles to set off

The luster of your soul.

Streg.

You speak bravely, and I hope will like me,

I'le give you this encouragement, above my

[Page]Other Suitors, I like you.

Gar.

Better than Heaven, by the haste you make there.

Streg.

And as a secret in your ear, I am better

Worth than twenty thousand Crowns per annum,

Besides some Bags in a Corner.

Ric.

I value your self only, and hope—

Gar.

She'l dye, and make you her sole Executor.

Streg.

Sanco, fetch my dressing Table, and Boxes.

Gar.

Sure she meanes to lay her Carcass out in

Parcels, and dispose her Limbs in Legacies;

Or having boxed them severally, indorse

Them to her loving Kinsmen thrice

Removed—But her implyments are come.

Ric.

Prithee leave fooling and observe.

Gar.

How she's set together, as if she mov'd

By Wires, or Clockworks.

Streg.

How do you like me now?

She pulls off her Eye-brows.

Ric.

How shou'd I like you less, for want of

Such an idle excrement?

Streg.

Put them in their right Box Sanco.

Sanc.

I'le case them most exactly.

Gar.

And send them to France for a Pattern

That the Mode may pass into England.

Streg.

Giv me your opinion now.

Pulls out an Eye.

Ric.

VVhere the soul has such a subtile knowledg

To discern, there needs no corporal light.

Gar.

Now wou'd she look like the figure of

Homer scanning of Verses, if her Beard

VVere but half so venerable.

Streg.

VVhere's my Eye-Box Sanco?

Gar▪

'Tis but a blind Eye that cannot

Hit its own Box: how dost like her?

Ric.

As I wou'd like a Treasure on a Dunghill,

I endure the stench o'th' one, for the lucre

Of the other.

pulls out her Teeth.

Streg.

Now view my third imperfection.

[Page]Gar.

She'll be sure to kiss soft, and thou

May'st venter thy Fingers in her Mouth

Safely.

Streg.

This is my fourth, consider't well.

pulls off her hair.

Ric.

This will never be seen in a Night-gear.

Besides 'tis a charitable age, we frequently

Borrow hair of one another.

Gar.

But art in earnest? ha?

Ric.

She's sufficiently ugly, but still I pray with

The Man, that was carried away by the

Devil, God bless us from worse.

Gar.

On my Conscience he'l go through stitch

And learn by her face to Picture deformity.

Ric.

Now for her last.

Gar.

VVhich he expects with as much curiosity

As a Court Lady th' arrival of a new Gown

From Paris.

Streg.

Sanco, help to untye.

Gar.

In the name of ugliness, what will she draw

From those parts?

Ric.

'Tis beyond the VVit of Man to imagine.

Look Garbato,—Look.

she pulls of her Leg.

Gar.

Remember she's rich.

Ric.

The Devil take her and her riches too Marry

A Stump, a VVooden Leg? I'le have flesh

Tho' ne're so ugly—Come away.

Gar.

Thou wilt not leave her thus.

Ric.

Dost think I'le ingender with Bedstaves,

And beget a generation of Scourg-sticks?

I'le see her whip'd first, 'tis pennance enough

To look on her, Don Belzebub shall

Marry her for me.

Exeunt.

Streg.

Are all my pains come to this? The time may

Come, a rich Widow may be in more reverence,

I warrant he's an Elder Brother, by his ill

[Page]Breeding, and less Wit.

Sanc.

No he's a younger Brother forsoth.

Streg.

A younger Brother! then am I at my last

Prayers, and may dye without my eighth Husband,

And what a lamentable misfortune that will be,

Let all venerable Damsels consider—

Come Sanco, lead me in, and as we go

Let's both together sing fortune's my foe.

Exeunt.

ACTUS IV.

SCENA I.

Clara, Arabella.

Cla.

I Hope you will applaud my diligence.

Ara.

Thou'rt fit to be great Loves Embassador

So well thou hast manag'd this affair,

First to perswade Honorio cease his claim,

And then to bring me such a just account

How things succeed at home—

What more cou'd I expect, or thou perform?

Cla.

My duty Madam did oblige this service.

She little guesses at my interest,

Which add the Wings to diligence her self.

Ara.

Garbato will be ravish'd with this news,

Dear Boy, how shall I recompence this service?

Cla.

Your acknowledgments are prodigal rewards;

But Madam if you will enlarge your bounty,

By giving me leave to attend Honorio,

I shall have cause to bless your service.

Ara.

Why Boy? will that so much advantage thee?

Cla.

Make me for ever Lady—for he fancies

Some kind of small resemblance in this face

To your bright beauty; weeds resemble flowers,

And have their use, and virtues too, so I

[Page]May palliate this Lovers misery.

Ara.

Had'st thou a Sex more suiting to thy face,

Thou might'st effect a perfect cure. Methinks

(If I forget not my own form,) there is

Enough resemblance for a Lovers flame

To feed upon.

Cla.

Madam I wish there were—

Ara.

Another Sex.

Cla.

No Madam, more resemblance.

Ara.

That wish alone were foolish, and must end

In a cold friendship, which soon brings disgust.

Thou cou'd'st not marry him.

Cla.

It should be much against my will then.

(aside)

Yet I cou'd live with him, and please his fancy

In all the pleasures of true Love.

Ara.

That's not done in a song Boy; thou'dst come short.

Cla.

I mean I'de serve him with more fidelity

Than any VVoman cou'd (except my self)

(aside)

For I wou'd make it my happiness to please him,

And share a double part of all his griefs.

Ara.

Thou wou'd'st be wond'rous kind.

Cla.

As your fair self to Signior Garbato.

Ara.

'Tis pitty to divide such love, yet for both

Your sakes, I wish thou wer't a female.

Cla.

I hope these breeches han't transform'd me.

(aside)

Enter Garbato and Riccamare.

Here comes my Lord, Madam I'le take my leave.

Ara.

Dear Infortunio I am loth to lose thee,

Yet since Honorio prov'd so kind to me

As to leave me to my choice, I'le let thee go,

But take this Ring, and wear it for my sake.

Exit Clara.

My dear Garbato I have news

VVill raise thy soul to such a happiness,

Thou'lt think thy self in Heaven.

Gar.

Being in thy Company I am so.

Yet I cou'd wish your Uncles absence,

[Page]That I migh participate your joys.

Ara.

His presence is less welcome than storms

Of rain in Harvest.

Gar.

Speak softly, lest he hear you.

Ara.

Oh, I cou'd curse him!

Gar.

Do't like a Politician then, and smile in's face.

Ric.

Niece Arabella.

Gar.

You must seem attentive, for he longs

To tell you his adventure.

Ric.

Were you at leisure I cou'd give you a

Description of the strangest piece of deformity.

Ara.

I am ever at leasure to hear you.

Gar.

How soon Women learn to dissemble?

Ric.

You have seen Mother Shiptons Picture.

Ara.

Before her Prophecies I think I have.

Ric.

Just such a prognosticating Nose had this

Sucking Damsel I went to woee, she was

So young that she had not a natural

Tooth in her head.

Ara.

He'll be as tedious now—

Ric.

They're all Ivory, and those dy'd Saffron by

The contagion of her breath, the putrefaction

Whereof might breed a Plague (if the Wind

Sate right) as far as Piemont.

Gar.

Thou hast as little kindness for an Old Woman

As a Hangman for a Thie [...], for like him thou

Wou'dst Murther the race thou desir'st to advance

Thy fortunes, and live by.

Ric.

I'de as soon live in my Grandsirs valut, and

Keep Company with the Worms of my dead Ancestors.

Gar.

I thought Riches wou'd have digested any imperfection.

Ric.

Except hers, had it been a common ugliness—

Gar.

As the Battery of the Nose in the French War.

Ric.

Gold might have excus'd it.

Gar.

Or say sh'ad been as wry-mouth'd as a Plase.

Ric.

I wou'd have digested that too, and kist her less

But to have a surfled Mouth, with too much Nose,

[Page]Neither Eyes, nor Hair on her brows,

A Toothless chops, with brisled Chin,

A Pate as bald, as e're was seen,

With parchment hide, and timber Legs,

VVou'd make a Man forswear such Megs,

Ara.

VVill he ne're have done?

(aside)

Gar.

I fear he has but begun yet.

Ric.

Such accumulated imperfections did I never

Behold, they were beyond the Power of Gold

To qualifie.

Gar.

Then you're quite out of conceit with Gold

And Old Women.

Ric.

Not whil'st the beauty of the Gold will balance

The ugliness of the VVoman.

Gar.

Ha, ha, ha, we'll find you out a handsomer,

Come Arabella, I long to hear thy news.

Exeunt.

Ric.

So they are got together, and think themselves

More happy than the Gods; but soft young Friend,

Since the wealthy hopes of this old VVidow

VVere Parents to my kindness, they being vanish'd

'Tis just my love expire into some new advantage

To my self, which [...]'le extract from their

Loves; The Plot begins to ripen.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Enter Clara, Amante following.

Aman.

Stay thou blest shape, Amante bids thee stop;

VVith what a flying Speed she makes away,

As if displeas'd I shou'd detain my Clara

So long in Torment by my fruitless passion.

Dear soul of my deceased love, but stay!

[...]neels.

Some hold that Saints can't hear us when we pray.

[Page]Then how shou'd she poor Soul, who is in pain

For thy inconstancy? thy prayers are vain.

Yet since I cannot love her less, I'le try

To bear her punishment my self, and dye.

Exit.

Scena Tertia.

Cicco, Buggio, Furfante.

Cic.

But is she so beautiful withal?

Bug.

Fresh as Aurora, before the rising Sun.

Fur.

Cleopatra was a Gypsie to her, and Helen a

Black Dowdy. I'le outlie him if possible.

Cic.

So fair, and rich?

Bug.

Richer than Croesus, she spends more in a year

Than his Catholick Majesty has been cozen'd of

Since the first discovery of America.

Fur.

This is nothing Sir, they say that Gold is more

Plentiful with her than Mackarel in their

Season, or Cherryes at a Crania a pound.

Bug.

He'll outdo me in my own Art.

Cic.

VVhy knew I not this sooner?

Fur.

I thought your VVorships capering days

VVere done, and that you wou'd not have committed

Your grave head to the Matrimonial Noose

At these years.

Cic.

At these years Knave! do I look so old?

Bug.

Young as a stripling of eighteen.

Fur.

Or a Cherry in May, you are green agen.

Cic.

I think I am as fresh, and vigorous as

VVhen I went to School.

Bug.

Y' are like the year Sir, and ev'ry spring renew your youth.

Fur.

As Girles in Rome, their Maiden [...]heads.

But you have a Daughter Sir.

Cic.

VVhat then? because she'll pine away with the

Sorrel sickness, and die for Love, must I not marry?

[Page]Bug.

'Twere pitty on your life else.

Fur.

She grieves poor Lady, and sees no body.

Cic.

She'll be less subject to temptation, I must

Mind my own affairs first.

Enter Riccamare.

Ric.

Save you, good Brother.

Cic.

Is he come to interrupt us—dear Buggio

Let's to th' Window.

Ric.

VVhat have you found your Daughter yet?

Bug.

Now are we lost, without a double brazen impudence.

Cic.

Is he mad? found my Daughter! when was

She lost?

Ric.

Not lost!

Bug.

He has certainly a design upon your VVidow,

And wou'd keep you off with a Tale

Of your Daughter.

Cic.

A Tale of a Tub, I'le hear none of't, I must

Beg your pardon, I'me engag'd about a business

VVhich concerns me nearly.

Ric.

You'll hear of your Daughter first?

Cic.

I hear of her too much, she's above weeping, but I am in haste.

Exeunt Cicco & Furfante.

Bug.

VVhat speedy wings does avarice bestow

On creeping age! he flyes that scarce cou'd go.

Exit.

Ric.

VVeeping in her Chamber! 'tis strange, nay

'Tis impossible, I left her but even now

With Garbato plighting amorous Vows,

His strange behaviour much amazes me,

I know not what to think, less what to do,

My whole design to supplant Arabella

And make my self as next a Kin, his heir, is lost.

He's damn'd in his belief that she's above,

I'me in a mist, yet sometimes things appear

At a great distance, when they're near at hand.

So painted Prospects do deceive the Eye

And seems remote when on a flat they lie.

So may my fortune, I'le have th' other pluck;

If then I fail, a plague of all ill luck.

Exit.

[Page]

Scena Quarta.

Honorio, Clara as a Page, Constantia.

Hon.

It was a little piece of charity

To send thee back to be my Comforter.

Cla.

I wish 'twere in my power; but for me

Who am the very abstract of misfortune

To undertake anothers grief wou'd prove

Too great a madness, and too little love.

Con.

Thou art deceiv'd, sorrows find most relief

In stories like themselves.

Hon.

Therefore dear Boy

Impart this History, if it be sad

'Twill better suit our thoughts.

Cla.

I am so young, you cannot well expect

Various adventures from my Childish Love,

Yet old enough for Loves severity,

Who quickly found a passage to my heart,

Which soon ador'd an object much too fair

Not to be predispos'd of; things of value

Are coveted by all, and I soon found love

Had preingag'd that heart t'another,

Which my soul languish'd for.

Con.

Alas poor Boy!

Cla.

Yet to this grief there did succeed a joy,

For that heart being refus'd, I thence deriv'd

A fresh, and lingring hope.

Hon.

Why, that was well.

Cla.

That seeming heaven did increase my torment.

For I by Nature bashful, had not then the courage

To speak my Love, of which they're ignorant.

And I by consequence must always pine,

Unable to assist my own design.

Hon.

Thy fate's severe; but 'tis thy folly Boy

[Page]Which makes it so.

But cruel Love so crosses my design,

My Mistress cannot (if she wou'd) be mine.

Cla.

And 'tis as much impossible for me

T' express my flame, as 'tis for her to love:

But if you'd please to undertake my cause

I know it wou'd succeed.

Hon.

I cannot Boy, I've bound my self by Oath

Never to speak of Love to Woman more.

Cla.

As from your self, you still may speak for me.

Con.

Dear Brother do, I pitty his misfortune.

Hon.

My vow was general concerning Love;

But you are free Constantia.

Con.

'Tis not a thing for me to undertake,

That always have in love been so succesless.

Hon.

May we not know her name?

Cla.

'Tis not a Woman that I love,

Yet we a Man and Wise might prove,

If that our hearts cou'd but agree

As well as Sexes sympathie.

Hon.

This is a kind of a riddle.

Cla.

But easily unfolded.

Hon.

Trust mo th' unriddling will require some time,

VVhat sayes Constantia?

Con.

My thoughts have been so taken up of late

'Twixt love and grief, that I have lost that art.

Cla.

It is unworthy either of your thoughts.

Hon.

The kindness of this Boy does puzle me

(aside)

For either I mistake him or he loves me,

In an extreame that misbecomes his Sex.

It must be sure some Virgin in disguise.

Cla.

I must confess you have discover'd me,

But you who know so much of love your self

to Constantia.

Know best to pitty the extremities love has compell'd me to.

Hon.

'Tis evident, the riddle does import it.

She loves no VVoman, therefore loves a Man,

And if a Man who can't divine her Sex?

[Page]I'le set Constantia to discover all.

Con.

In all I can, I will assist your love▪

to Clara.

But lest my Brother should unfold too soon

Your Oracle, divert him with a Song.

SONG.

I never shall henceforth approve

The Deity of Love

Since he cou'd be

So far unjust as to wound me,

And leave my Mistress free.

As if my flame cou'd leave a Print

Vpon a heart of flent.

Can flesh and stone

Be ere converted into one,

By my poor flame alone?

Were be a God, he'd neither be

Partial to her, nor me,

But by a Dart

Directed into eithers heart

Make both so feel the smart,

That being heated with his subtitle fire

Our loves might make us feel but one desire.

Hon.

How cravingly he look'd upon me now,

As if he had a boon he sham'd to ask▪

There's somewhat hid beneath that borrowed shape

I must know more of.

Exit Honorio.

Con.

So, let him chew upon the riddle

Till we have ripen'd our design,

But art thou sure Amante dotes on thee?

Cla.

Am I sure when the Sun shines 'tis day?

Con.

Then I'le renew my hopes, since his revolt

Is to an object can't return him love.

Cla.

Let's then assist each other in our loves,

I'le use my art to make Amante thine.

Con.

The readiest way's to wed thee to Honorio.

For when in thee his amorous hopes are dead,

He'll soon return to th' Love from whence he fled.

Exeunt.

[Page]

Scena Quinta.

Enter Honorio.

Hon.

It shou'd be Clara; yet she's too discreet

To trust her modesty to that disguise,

Yet she's a Woman, and moreover loves,

And few are known Lovers, and wise at once,

It must be she, and I the easie fool

That gave her credir, she might feign the message,

And make false use of Arabella's Name,

If so I'me lost to her, and to her Father,

My honour and my love destroy'd at once,

One I may yet reprieve.

Enter Amante.

But see, Amante! that wound of fame gives

No Precedency to lesser quarrells: then whil'st

(draws)

I prefer my honour, Love, take thou a Sepulcher.

Aman.

Sure he intends some mischief to himself.

Tho' I wou'd dye, I'le lend a helping Arm

To save his life, hold, brave Honorio, hold,

Let that reason which I want vanquish

Thy Passion—kill not thy self.

Hon.

I do not find an inclination to it▪

Tho' life before was irksom, since I discern

A fitter subject for my Enmity.

Aman.

I scarcely understand you.

Hon.

I shall explain my self—

I drew to make your yield me satisfaction

For that dear honour which my Sisters fears

Compell'd me lose, when I fail'd meeting you,

To justifie the injurious words I gave you.

Aman.

Those Injuries Honorio are forgot.

Hon.

I can't forgive my Honour such a blot,

In you 'tis noble to forgive, in me

Shou'd I accept, as great an Infamy.

[Page]Honour takes nothing when she's in arrear

Lest what's meant kindness be miscall'd a fear.

Therefore Amante if you can afford

Me any favour, let it be your Sword.

Aman.

As a Present take it; I dare rely

Your honour's too great security

For me to doubt; or shou'd you take this life

'Twou'd ease my grief, and finish all my strife.

Hon.

My hand is furnish'd Sir, but if you'll part

More nobly with it, present it to my heart.

Aman.

I'de rather wound my own, and by one blow

Destroy that Friend, whom you wou'd make your foe.

Hon.

If Friend unto my same, you must confess

What I affirm'd was true, and ask my pardon.

Aman.

If nothing less Sir, can appease your rage,

Than owning my self Coward, Honorio

Must excuse me, tho' I promis'd Constantia

To bear an injury beyond mans patience.

Fame never shall report a VVomans tears

Destroy'd Amante's honour.

I'de give my life, if live wou'd satisfie;

But dare not Friendship with dishonour buy.

Hon.

Then draw—

Aman.

I do, and in as just a cause

(draws)

As Power when she Executes by Laws.

Hon.

Stay, to shew I don't delight in blood

I'le only urge my Sister might

Return her love, and make but good her claim,

I'le own you by a Friends and Brothers name.

Aman.

I can't alas consent, in Clara's grave

(Where e're it is) I have intomb'd my heart.

Hon.

But what if she be still alive?

Aman.

I'le love her till she be dispos'd of to another.

Hon.

It must be Clara wandring for my sake

(aside)

In that disguise, if so, it lyes in me

To marrry her, and that may set him free.

But then my Arabella! she may prove

[Page]Still undispos'd, my first and dearest Love,

I'le never hazard thee, I am resolv'd—

Aman.

To fight—

Hon.

Or basely be deny'd.

Aman.

You sha'not find a Coward.

they fight.

Hon.

I believe It—Come on.

Aman.

So you have drawn the first blood.

Hon.

I see I have, shall we put up?

Aman.

No Sir I can as little put up this

As you your Sisters injury; the Coward

Sticks here still.

they [...]ight.

So, we're on even terms, what say you now?

Hon.

My Sister's unreveng'd.

Aman.

I do renounce that quarrel as unjust

And will at any time implore her pardon,

As I have often done. Sir you shall see

I can be noble in inconstancy. As for

The other slanders, I pronounce them▪

And their Author false.

Hon.

These are but words▪

Aman.

You shall have deeds to testifie I am no Coward,

Nor asperser of a Ladies fame.

(fight)

Enter Clara, Constantia, and run between them.

Cla.

Hold, oh hold your hands.

Con.

Imploy your Swords on us, for that wou'd be

A greater kindness than severitie.

It wou'd destroy our grief, as well as lives

Which in your dangers cruelly survives.

Hon.

Good Sister give us way—

pushes her away.

Cla.

Madam be resolute, we'll rather fall

As Martyrs to prevent their Funeral.

Con.

They shan't constrain us to a misery,

If they will fight, let us agree to dye.

Cla.

I am content.

Con.

Prepare thy Ponyard then,

And in our courage let us vie with them.

they hold their daggers ready to strike.

Aman.

Hold! you have unarm'd me quite.

[Page]Hon.

And conquer'd me.

Cla.

Then we may triumph in our Victory.

Con.

Triumph! alas what comfort can we find?

Preserving Lovers to be still unkind.

Cla.

Preserv'd them! no Constantia they bleed, and faint away.

Con.

'Tis too true, what's to be done?

they fall down.

Each drop Amante sheds, draws from my heart

A flood, nor is my soul much less concern'd

For my dear Brother, oh my misery!

Nature, and Love, do equally contend,

VVhom shall I save my Brother, or my Friend?

Cla.

Madam be comforted; this sacred stone

Has a choice Virtue to stop bleeding wounds,

And send the blood back to th' distressed heart.

I'le try it on Honorio.

she applys it.

Hon.

Oh, ho.

Cla.

See he revives

Con.

But poor Amante labours still beneath the

Pangs of death; oh lend it here.

Cla.

Then will your Brother faint.

Con.

Why let him perish rather than Amante.

Cla.

Honorio perish! ah, how can you be

So cruel in your foolish charity?

To save a Man so false, and let a Brother

Dye, so good as my Honorio?

Con.

Not thine, but Arabella's, Clara.

Hon.

That sound was most Divine—Dear Arabella!

Aman.

What Angels voice pronounc'd fair Clara's name?

Con.

A Wretch you once did love—

Open your Eyes and you at once may see

Your cruel Clara, and kind Constancy.

Aman.

That beauteous form, is she then in disguise?

Cla.

Believe her not; she only us'd this art,

To make your blood return into your heart.

I'me but her Brother Sir.

Aman.

Then tell me, where

She lives; if dead, shew me her Sepulc're.

[Page]Cla.

Within a day, I'le shew her you ailve.

Aman.

I'le strive to live upon that hope.

Con.

They begin both to give good signs of a Recovery.

Cla.

This wound seems almost clos'd;

Apply the Stone to him, there can't be found

In Art, or Natures Treasury so good

A stenching Medicine for a stream of blood.

Hon.

It seems to me miraculous, I find

It strengthens both the body and the mind.

How fares Amante?

Aman.

Better to see my Friend so near his health.

Hon.

I am now in Amity with all the World, and find

(I praise the Gods) a sweet recess from love.

Aman.

My thanks kind Youth, thou dost not only give

Me life, but likewise a desire to live,

By assuring me of Clara's recovery.

Con.

Wretched Constantia, thou art never thought on.

Cla.

Y'had best retire Sir, th' air is cold,

And may offend your wounds.

Hon.

I thank your care.

Signior Amante come, we'll now be Friends,

Since eithers blood has made too large amends

For all past injuries.

Aman.

Here take my hand,

And with't a heart devoted to your service:

If you in any thing be disobey'd

Impute the fault to love, and not t' Amante.

Con.

In ev'ry Truce of love I still must be

Like one exempt! we are not to agree.

Exeunt.

[Page]

ACTUS V.

SCENA I.

Riccamare, Garbato, Arabella.

Gar.

MAy we give credit to this happiness,

Or do you only tempt us with a bliss,

To try how soon we'll credit what we wish?

Ara.

It seems unlikely, yet [...]'de [...] believe.

Ric.

What do you take me for▪ a Fabler▪ Niece?

I did expect another kind of thanks.

Ara.

Good Uncle be not angry, we thank you▪

Gar.

Our thanks but shame us Sir; there's none but you

Cou'd have oblig'd so much.

Ric.

I did introth compassionate your loves,

And that compassion urg'd me to assist you.

What pains I took, and how I press'd my Brother

By pray'rs, entreaties, and some slender reasons.

Before I cou'd prevail, is not material:

It is enough I compass'd my design.

He'll seem for the present enrag'd at the Match.

And afterwards receive you into Grace,

Which in effect's as good as a consent.

Gar.

Y' have done a charity, becomes a Saint.

Now Arabella you have no excuse,

Your duty being safe.

Ara.

My blushes do consent, yet I wou'd fain

Be blest before the Nuptial Rights.

Ric.

By th' Priest you may; but Niece it is in vain▪

T' expect your Father's yet.

Gar.

Be satisfy'd; I hope we sha'not long

Be barr'd that happiness.

Ric.

Not six hours I dare pass my word.

Ara.

If I transgress, it is upon your soore.

Ric.

Make haste to Church, and here make all things sure.

[Page]Gar.

Never went Lovers to that sacred place

With a more innocent, and pure flame.

Ex [...]unt.

Ric.

My Plot succeeds thus far, to my own wish,

This Match must disinherit her for certain.

And then stand I our houses Candidate.

I'le [...]eek my Brother, and so aggravate

His Daughters Crime, that his misgovern'd rage

May hear no reason, nor admit excuse;

But like a Bedlam, furiously before

She makes defence, may turn her out of dore.

Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Strega, Furfante, Sanco.

Streg.

From Signior Cicco, say'st thou honest Friend▪

Fur.

Yes forsooth, he's my Master, and a very proper Gentleman,

Though I say it.

Streg.

Very likely, and he'd have leave to visit me, is't not so?

Fur.

To kiss your hand, and vow himself your adorer.

Streg.

O fine, he'll make a Saint of me.

Fur.

He may—for she has preserv'd her Carcass

Ninety years beyond the course of Nature, and

Kept it by a Miracle from stinking

(aside)

Streg.

Of what profession is thy Master Friend?

Fur.

A Courtier forsooth, he has a good estate of

His own, which he daily improves by a kind of

Facility he has to beg any thing that comes

In his way.

Streg.

Belike then he's a very thriving Gentleman.

Fur.

A most resistless Courtier, for he never designs

Any thing, but he obtains it by his importunity.

Sanc.

Have courage Mistress, there's life in a Muscle, if this

Be not another sweet-heart, ne're trust a livery Prophet.

Streg.

A sweet-heart! the word warms at heart

Like a Cup of Muskad ne, commend me to thy Master

[Page]Heartily, and tell him tha [...] he shall be heartily, heartily

Welcome, with all my heart heartily.

Fur.

A very hearty commendation.

Exit.

Streg.

What dost thou think Sanco?

Sanc.

That your capering days are not done yet, you talk

Of your decays, and deformities, but if you have the grace

To keep them to your self, you'll pass well enough

In a croud I warrant you.

Streg.

Be like I had best change my Method, and make

No more discoveries of my imperfections.

Sanc.

They'll discover themselves fast enough never fear it.

Alas forsooth you were born in a plain dealing Age,

When Men meant honestly, and Virgins were proud

To shew a handsome Leg; but now, no dissimulation,

No life. Every deformity is conceal'd, and every

Perfection set off to advantage.

Streg.

As how good honest Sanco?

Sanco.

Marry thus, a good Eye sparkles through a Vizard

Mask, whil'st the bad features, and worse complexion

Lies conceal'd, good features are illustrated with

Counterfeit complexions, and good complexions heightned

With black Patches.

Streg.

Thou art much improv'd Sanco?

Sanc.

I have not altogether lost my time in your Worships service.

Streg.

Nay thou art a shrew'd clung pated Fellow,

I'le say that for thee

Sanc.

I do pick, and glean now and then some small

Crums, and fragments of knowledg out of my continual

Observation.

Streg.

Marry, and 'tis very discreetly done Sanco, when

I am marri'd thou shalt instruct me in the

Customs and fashions of the present Age, for belike

A Wife is quite another thing than what 'twas in my days.

Sanc.

Marry is it Mistress, for then they stay'd at home

To entertain their honest Neighbours, now they

Gad abroad to be entertain'd by their Wild Gallants.

Then they took a Pride to be thought modest, now,

'Tis their [...] glory to be thought Modish, the World's

[Page]Turn'd upside down.

Streg.

Dost think I shall ever learn to endure this fashion?

Sanc.

A little use will make it as familiar to you as

Taking of Fees to an old covetous Lawyer, or

Killing to an unskilful Physitian.

Streg.

Then belike I may be brought to a Modish Lady agen?

Sanc.

As modish as if y'had travail'd to Paris for

Your Cloaths, or to London for a confident behaviour.

Streg.

And they say your London Ladies are courtly indeed,

Sanco.—

But here comes the Gentleman.

Entor Cicco, Furfante and Buggio.

Sanc.

Observe him warily Mistress, and seem the whilst

To speak to me; my observa [...]ion learn't that

Trick of a Country Parson, who spoke to the

Congregation, and fix'd his Eyes the whilst on a

Handsome VVench.

Cic.

Is she not a Miracle of Nature, what an Eye's there?

Bug.

Brighter than the Ottoman Diamond, it fills the Room with luster.

Fur.

And him with darkness.

Bug.

Then for a Lip.

Cic.

I observe that too; the Ruby thence receive its tincture.

Oh but the pretty Mole!

Bug.

Where Sir? I see none.

Cic.

A pox on't, I must be prating still before

My time, and shame my self.

Bug.

I can't find that Mole, tho' I have survey'd

Her face most critically.

Cic.

I mean the form of her face, Nature form'd

Hers, and Venus's in one Mould.

Streg.

How he extols me Sanco? by my holy dame

I have not been so complemented these forty years.

Sanc.

I'me pers [...]aded that your [...]ace, like fashions laid by

Twenty years, begins to grow a la mode.

Streg.

A very pretty observation.

Sanc.

Old folks they say are twice Children, and you have

Been old enough for that Proverb these twenty

Years, so that by observation you shou'd be much about your prime.

[Page]Streg.

And that may very well be.

Sanc.

I believe your Sciatica is nothing but the Rickets;

And your ach in the Jaws, breeding of teeth, which your

Artificial ones hinder from cutting.

Streg.

Then belike I may renew my youth agen,

I am resolv'd to fling away these rotten Teeth

And cut my Gums with munching loaf Sugar.

Sanc.

You wou'd do well to buy a Corral.

Streg.

That is not so good, but I'le eat store of Rabbits

Brains to make me tooth more easily.

Cic.

I can observe no longer, for I discern such

Excellence, I can't contain my self,

I must speak to her.

Fur.

If he cou'd find her out, but I'le assist him.

Cic.

Fair Strega, and therefore the more fair because

Strega,

do not disdain the humble flame which spouts—

Bug.

Which blazes—

Cio.

VVhich blazes from a young Lovers heart.

Streg.

I never was addicted much to scorn.

Bug.

Now is the rest of his pen'd speech lost▪ and

Our Lover in a brown study how to proceed.

Cic.

If not to scorn, I hope to love.

Bug.

VVell urg'd old Man how e' [...]e extempore.

Streg.

Belike Love is a very comfortable thing,

But it will require debate, if you please

We'll walk in, and confer notes.

Cic.

You cannot more oblige me.

Exeunt.

Fur.

His speech had like to have ruin'd all.

Bug.

He wou'd not be perswaded otherwise,

Come lets in and share the mirth.

Fur.

My old Ma [...]ter, cannot move without me.

Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Honorio, Constantia.

Hon.

VVith what a strange, and yet mysterious art,

[Page]Love has intangled, and engag'd each heart

Yours to Amante, to fair Clara his,

Hers unto me, what a strange Maze is this?

Mine was intangled too, but since got free

By a rash vow, dislikes that liberty,

Because it cruelly prevents thy peace,

And renders me unable to release

Amante from his flame, by wedding Clara.

Con.

Ah that you wou'd but so befriend my love [...]

Hon.

I dare not think you wish a happiness,

That I must purchase with so great a Crime.

Con.

I wou'd not have you sin, yet I'de fain be

Eas'd of this load of Love, and misery.

But is there no expedient, no just art

To break a Vow, which else must break my heart?

Not only mine, but loving Clara's too,

And that I'me confident won't much please you.

Hon.

Not in the least; for I at present find

Such an indifferency to Arabella,

That I had rather oblige Clara's love,

And make Amante capable of thine,

VVou'd my rash vow permit it.

Con.

It is not better to dispense one Oath,

Than kill a Mistress and a Sister both?

VVhen by two Sins you equally are prest,

It is a Virtue sure to chuse the least.

Hon.

But I perceive no such Dil [...]mma here.

I may preserve my Vow, and you your lives.

Enter Clara.

But Clara comes I date not trust my self

Lest my Compassion shou'd destroy my Virtue.

Exit Hono [...].

[Page]

Scena quarta.

Cla.

I fear your Rhetorick prevails but little

To perswade his lover, since he avoids my presence.

Con.

'Tis altogether hopeless, he's so constant

To that curs'd vow, there's no removing him.

Cla.

We must find some evasion, some reservation.

Con.

But where my Clara? you still cherish hope.

Thoug [...] you have nought in Prospect but despair.

Cla.

That's the last passion love shou'd entertain.

Weigh but discreetly this perplexive vow,

And the evasion won't seem difficult.

It was if I remember it but rightly,

Never to speak of love to Woman more.

Con.

It was, what shadow of hope can you derive from thence?

Cla.

A certain joy, if nothing else obstruct my happiness.

Con.

Find an evasion for that curst resolve,

And I'le assure your marriage.

Cla.

Why let him keep his Vow religiously,

And never speak of love to me, or any,

I'le understand his signs, if he'll consent

The Priest shall make us one. Besides Constantia

He may write his love, that's not within his Oath.

Con.

How dull was I, not to discern it sooner!

'Tis evident, plain as the light that shines,

I'le straight convince him of it.

Exit.

—As Clara follows, Amante Enters, takes her by the hand and stops her.

Scena Quinta.

Aman.

Though y' are still so cruel, and deaf to all my vows,

Yet lend an ear to my sad sufferings.

[Page]Cla.

The Lady that went hence suffers much more

For you, than you can do for me.

Aman.

Alas, I pitty her!

Cla.

I pity you;

But pitty more your base inconstancy.

Aman.

Impute that crime to love, and beauty Madam:

Since they conspir'd to betray my heart.

To one far more deserving, now 'tis fixt.

Cla.

Like to an exhalation, for a moment.

Aman.

For ever Madam.

Cla.

VVhat hope of constancy can there be found

In love, of which inconstancy's the ground?

What truth, when both alike must be untrue?

You in your change, and I in loving you?

Exit.

Aman.

She has struck me dumb, yet will not give me time

To answer, or extenuate my Crime,

Or if she had, I cou'd make small defence,

Guilt can but ill dispose with innocence.

But I'le reform, and though I cannot gain

Her love, her good opinion I'le obtain.

Then let her know tho' once I went astray,

Her brave reproofs has set me in the way.

Exit.

Scena Sexta.

Garbato, Arabella.

Gar.

' [...]is a strange, solitary house this; None

But an Old Woman to bid us welcome!

Ara.

I do'nt like my Uncles absence neither

Gar.

That seems suspicious too: But I applaud

However the design, since it obtain'd me such a happiness.

Ara.

I must applaud it too, since 'tis my fate,

Repentance after Marriage comes too late.

Enter Riccamare, Cicco, Strega, Buggio, and Furfante.

But here my Father comes? I fear too soon.

Gar.

Your Uncle with him too, nay th [...]n we 're safe.

Ric.

What, are you sencel [...]ss Sir? she has married a Beggar.

Cic.

And I a Mine; 'twere a hard case if I cou'd not

Afford one Portion; set your heart at rest,

[...]'me resolv'd to make this Day a Jubilee.

And I'le begin with my Daughter first, call her,

[Page] Furfante, that I may forgive her.

Ric.

Forgive her! is he possest?

Fur.

W [...]y Sir she's by you.

Cic.

How strangely I forget my self! oh love,

Love, how thou distractest youth! Arabella.

Gar.

To him in this humour, and get a blessing.

Ara▪

I hope you are as ready to forgive as you were wont.

That I disobey'd you in my choice

I must confess, but 'twas not till the choice

You made abandon'd me, that very Minute

You design'd me his VVife.

Cic.

Thou had'st more VVit I see than thy old Father,

I do forgive thee Girl, and hope thy Husband

VVill make that out in love, he wants in fortune.

Ric.

How riches alters some Mens tempers!

Oh! I cou'd curse!

Gar.

My love I hope has been unquestionable,

And by so many Acts confirm'd, it needs

No farther proof, let it suffice I married

(On a bare promise of your favour Sir) for her

Own Merits, without least assurance of

Any Portion, which the fair Estate newly

[...]aln to me by an Uncles death might

Justly challenge

Ric.

He's rich too! a Curse on my design, they're

Both ways crost, in advantage, and revenge.

Fur.

How th' old Man c [...]urts him now! before

Forgiveness was a savour. Signior Buggio

Your Cake's Dough.

Bug.

I find I ing a very unprofitable calling.

Fur.

It may be one day pay'd Sir with a basting.

Bug.

Then will I make you my Receiver.

Cic.

May the Heavens pour down blessing on you.

She shall not want a Portion.

Gar.

Uncle I thank you for your kind design,

My Father will no doubt declare you his Heir.

Ric.

Oh, they may laugh, that win.

[Page]Gar.

Y'have lost your fortunes both wayes, in a

Wife, and an Inheritance.

Ric.

Yet I'le not cry for the matter, except

It be my Nieces pardon.

Ara.

Alas, you never injur'd me.

Ric.

In thought I did, for I design'd thy ruine,

And cannot find an apter recompence,

For having sought to disinherit thee,

Than by th' addition for my poor fortune.

I here adopt you mine, and when I dye,

What I possess, is yours.

Both.

You are too Noble.

Streg.

If she be yours, Sir, I must salute her.

Cic.

Do so good Wife, whilst I give directions

For th' invitation of our VVedding Guests.

Ara.

My duty shou'd have thrown me at your feet

For your dear blessing Madam, had I known,

Y' [...]ad been my Fathers choice.

Streg.

How prettily she prattles Sanco!

Sanc.

She call'd you Madam too in the Court dialect.

Streg.

Dialect! prithee Sanco make me understand

These fine words.

Sanc.

I'le buy you a Dictionary forsooth, and that

Shall teach you.

Streg.

A very pretty Word, prithee let me have it.

Cic.

Be sure none be forgotten.

Fur.

I'le table them exactly.

Cic.

Prithee Buggio, do thou assist him.

Bug.

I shall Sir▪ Pray one Word—

(whispers.)

Cic.

You mean my Daughter, but she's

Dispos'd you see, but I've a Niece, a rich

One for you.

Fur.

Ha, ha, ha—he has paid him in his own coyn,

Lye, for lye.

Cic.

Now let us in to entertain our Guests.

This ought to be a double marriage feast.

Exeunt.

[Page]

Scena Septima.

Honorio, Amante.

Hon.

I must avow, 'tis highly generous,

But now such actions are not in request,

I know your love to Clara, and suspect it

A cunning Stratagem to sift my heart.

Am.

Your thoughts of me Honorio are too mean:

'Tis true I have been faulty in my Love,

And made by beauty a too easie Conquest,

But I have fortify'd my heart with Virtue,

Both against Clara's, and all other Charms,

Except these first, which in Constantia

Surprized, and made a Conquest of my Love.

Hon.

Let me adore thee, Friend. This noble Act

Will canonize inconstancy, and make't a Virtue.

Am.

I wish Constantia receive it so.

Hon.

She ' [...] be but too much joy'd, and so will Clara,

For the kind resolve I've made on her behalf.

See they appear to share the happiness.

Am.

Turn not aside your face, for I'me become,

Loves penitent, y' have wrought a perfect cure,

And by your reproof my inconstancy taught▪

My Love steddy Virtue.

Cla.

I rejoyce in't.

And shall be proud to perfect the good work,

By joyning you to fair Constantia.

Am.

Your Virtue shall dispose me.

Cla.

Here Constantia, receive a convert to your Love. Nay

Neither blush nor doubt, he's proof I warrant you.

Hon.

Against the World.

Am.

No beauty now, but yours has power to charm me.

Hon.

May the Gods still encrease your happiness.

Con.

I dare believe you. My Joyes now are perfect,

[Page]And so shall thine be Clara, lend's thy hand,

I here Dispose thee to Honorio;

Love him, he's a Gentleman deserves it.

Cla.

Y'are my Noblest Parent, and have given me

A fresh life of happiness.

Hon.

Now all is as it shou'd be, but methinks,

Constantia, you presum'd too much to dispose

Clara without her own consent.

Cla.

She knew my heart had done it long before.

Hon.

Then nought remains, but that we lead to Church,

And there confirm our joyes by sacred Rites,

Love Joyns our hearts, but 'tis the Church Unites.

Aman.

I must implore Constantia's pardon first,

For my so long revolt.

Con.

Y'are to me in your return more welcome,

Than Reprieves to Malefactors that despair of life.

Hon.

Say no more, I dare assure your pardon, Love still

Prepares our Joyes with bitterness, to make us

Relish them with more delight:

By inconstancy, deluded hopes, and fears,

The wish'd fruition he at length endears.

Am.

Y'are strangely merciful.

Enter Buggio, Furfante.

Hon.

But who are these?

Am.

Sure one is Buggio.

Hon.

That fatal cause of all our difference?

Am.

He is not worth this heat—let's observe him.

Fur.

Thou art so whimsical, I tell thee I'le abuse

My Master no longer. Tho [...] he be blind, my Mistress has one eye.

Bug.

Do me this kindness then, say I have lost my memory.

Fur.

Do you think I'le tell a lye?

Bug.

'Tis not the first.

Fur.

Not by a thousand. But to tell a lye without

Design, or profit, goes against my conscience.

Bug.

I must bribe the Rascal, for now Honorio, and

Amante are friends, I perceive a basting coming

Towards me [...] unless I can maintain a loss

[Page]Of memory, come Furfante▪ prithee be honest,

Fur.

Yes and tell a lie gratis, I thank you heartily.

Bug.

Come here's a Crown.

Fur.

VVell, it is for love of thee, and this.

Hon.

VVe heat nothing, prithee let's advance,

I must be upon that Rascals bones.

Am.

Stay, his Companion makes towards us.

Fur.

Signior Cicco lately married to the rich VVidow:

Strega, desires all your Companies at his Wedding supper.

Hon.

Marryed! sure this is coupling time why we

Are going to perform that Ceremony, and then

We'll wait upon him.

Am.

It falls out happily since we are so unprovided

For the solemnity.

Con.

They'll be a rare Comedy of Mirth.

Cla.

Rather a Masquerade by their odd antique dress.

Hon.

O [...] a French Farce for th' extravagancy of

Their humours, the old man conceales his

Infirmities, and [...]he takes a Pride in

Manifesting hers.

Am.

This is a strange Fellow, he'll neither know me,

Nor you, nor [...]ny injury he did us.

Hon.

I shall revive his memory.

Am.

Be patient dear Honorio, your anger here

Is thrown away.

Fur.

I can assure you Sir he has lost his

Memory above these ten years.

Hon.

How Slave will you help t' outface us too?

Did not I [...]ee him within these too days?

And speak with him? this is an impudence

Beyond Imagination.

Fur.

If y' had seen him within this hour, he can no

More remember you, than the moment he was born.

Am.

Nay, prithee Honorio.

Bug.

Pray be not angry Gentlemen, I have travelled

Far, it may be I had the honour of your

Acquaintance in Peru, Cattai, Mascar, or Mexico,

[Page]Or some Clime more remote, I have a brief head

And a short memory.

Fur.

A very short head Sir, he can't remember that

He told a truth in all his life.

Bug.

VVhy Rogue, Furfante?

Hon.

This Fellow wou'd be kill'd.

Am.

Or rather kick'd, but he's a punishment

Sufficient to himself.

Con.

You must forgive him, 'tis a day of Joy.

Hon.

Upon Condition he'll ne're tell lye more,

I am content.

Am.

That's the next way to make him

He'll ne're keep Covenant.

Hon.

I'le make him tell a truth then, did not

You tell me, like a Rascal, that Amante

Had divulged my Sister was unchaste?

Bug.

Que dicte vous Mounsieur.

Hon.

That trick shan't serve you Sirrah, answer

Me directly, and in your own language, or—

Bug.

'Tis very true Sir.

Am.

VVhat's true Rascal, did ever I divulge that scandal?

Bug.

Not as [...] remember.

Hon.

Then 'tis very false Rogue.

Am.

Howe're h'as sham'd the Devil once.

Con.

The injury concern'd me most, I pray forgive h [...]m.

Bug.

A Noble Lady, I'le never lie agen,

But in thy commendations.

Hon.

May he deserve your mercy. Now to Church:

Bu [...] stay what Musick's this?

Enter Cicco, Strega with Musick, Garbato, Arabella following.

Am.

As I live, th' old couple revelling upon the Piana.

Hon.

What a mischief 'tis we are not married now,

That we might Dance.

Am.

A frisk or too before, will do no harm.

[Page] A Dance. VVhich done they wish them joy.

Cic.

I thank you Gentlemen,

And hope e're long to wish like joy to you.

Hon.

'Twill not be much unseasonable now,

For we ate marching to find out the Priest.

Cic.

I've one at home shall save you all that labour,

And a slight Supper you shall be welcome to.

Con.

We had not best refuse the old Mans kindness,

VVe shall fare worse at home.

Am.

Oh by no means; since fortune made us meet

Thus happily, we'll celebrate this Night to

Gawdy Hymen in a leash of Marriages.

Gar.

Pray let us fill the Mess.

Am.

I beg your pardon Friend, I believ'd yours

Past the celebration.

Cic.

But not the consummation.

Hon.

Every thing in its proper season Sir. Love once

Propos'd me Madam for your Bridegroom,

But your commands dismiss'd my happiness.

Ara.

I must acknowledg mine your generous gift.

Hon.

Fortune has made some reparation here.

Ara.

May you be happier in this Ladies love,

Than possibly you cou'd have been in mine.

Cla.

So kind a wish deserves my best acknowledgment.

Hon.

VVe Truant it too long, let's now make hast

To compleat all our joys.

You're now my lot, though not at first design'd,

Fortune, and Love, dispose of all mankind.

FINIS.

EPILOGUE.

[Page]

AS in Religion much less time is spent

I [...]th' practice, than debate, and argument:

So fares it now with VVit, for that is grown

The troublesom dispute of half the Town;

All have it in their Mouths, tho' few or none

Produce a Piece of true VVit all their own:

Some steal, some buy, and others borrow it,

And when all's done, 'twill hardly pass for Wit,

Vnless they form a faction, and engage

(As Bessus did) the Brothers of the Stage,

To give it under hand and seal, that they

Approve the Plot and Language of the Play;

How then shou'd our unknown have any hopes

His Play shou'd pass, who wanted all these props?

He neither had add [...] nor Critick Friend

To shew him where [...] he ai [...]'ed, or how to mend;

Nor did he use t [...] Poets common Art,

To repeat Scenes at th' Coffee-house by heart;

Nor half a year before the Play came forth,

By lending it anticipate its worth;

And by that jugling trust oblige each VVit

To justifie his Compliment i't [...]' [...] it.

No, this came quite a stranger to your view,

And he that writ it means to be so too,

Till your applause have made him freeo'th' Trade,

And then perhaps he'll quit his Masquerade.

Information about this book

Title statement

The amorous old-vvoman: or, 'tis vvell if it take. A comedy. Acted by His Majesties servants. Written by a person of honour.

Duffett, Thomas.

Edition statement

1674

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-07 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A36755

ID [STC]

Wing D2443A

ID [STC]

ESTC R214579

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99826697

ID [PROQUEST]

99826697

ID [VID]

31102

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This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A36755)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 31102)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English Books, 1641-1700 ; 1775:32)

Source

— The amorous old-vvoman: or, 'tis vvell if it take. A comedy. Acted by His Majesties servants. Written by a person of honour., Duffett, Thomas..

Extent

[6], 72, [2] p.

Printed for Simon Neale at the three Pidgeons in Bedford-street in Covent-Garden,. London :: MDCLXXIV. [1674]. (By Thomas Duffett.) (Reissued in 1684 as: The fond lady.) (The final unpaginated leaf contains the epilogue.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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