SCENE I.

Am pleas'd with the success of my Designs against this vile ungrateful City Naples. Did ever Jesuit Wrong'd die Unreveng'd, if he had power to effect it? No, the working Brain would burst quite through the Skull, with the excess of Boiling Rage fermented, sooner than leave that Scandal on our Order, That we forgive those that Affront the Priest­hood. They lately chose Philomerino Cardinal, and the officious Nobles throng'd the Conclave to shut out my Deserts from being President, as I so long Expected; which to revenge,—I've subtilly wove my self into the Councels of the new Rais'd Plebeian, Massaniello, who tho a Fish [...]r­man,—has yet a Spirit of unmatched Force; a Head too as well turn'd for Mischief as this her [...]—and who now with Resolution and Sense, not found before in such Course Breeding, has stirr'd the People to put down the Gabells; some Numbers are already rose, and—Mataloni and his Con­federates, the Marks they shoot at. That Bow I'll help to bend; — Oh!— here's the Idol Cardinal and the Great Duke—

Five hundred Boys, let 'em not Fright your Eminence, Switch [...]s and Rods will [...]end 'em Home agen.

My Lord, I am not Frighted, yet let my Caution be of some use, if only to prepare Your Grace to take into consideration the danger of such sudden Insurrections.

What Danger can there be? These Hot-brain'd Youths that march about with Weapons made of Canes, I'll undertake at th' sight of a Whip and Bell, Like [...]oisting Curs, shall skulk into their Corners.

The hungry Mice are hunting after Cheese, a Cat will scare 'em all; —besides the number is Inconsiderable.

They encrease hourly, and Men begin to follow 'em; not only so, but Headed, as I hear, by a Bold Fellow, who tho but a Fisherman, has yet strange Courage and uncommon Parts; one who I'm told, has, when his Net lay Idle, sat often down to read in Politicks, and in his spare time study'd to catch Men.

Yes, Chapmen,—my good Lord,—Men for his purpose; Stewards of Families, or Clerks of Kitchens, Men proper to buy up his F [...]sh.

Ha, ha, ha, ha. I hear indeed a Ruffian, one Massaniello, is the Ringleader of a Rout of Beggars, Fellows that wear half Breeches and no Stockings, cry out against me, chosen by the Vice-Roy, and th' rest that Farm 'em, for imposing Gabells on their Commodities: Your Grace no doubt, has heard too That I grow Rich—with such Oppressions.

The Rabble's Voice, My Lord, can give no Scandal. 'Tis bruited so indeed.

Tripe-eating Rogues.

My Lord, my holy Function does oblige me to preach up Mo­deration, and to counsel those I want Power to Govern—And I could wish Your Grace would make your self more lov'd by th' People, who, I confess, cry loudly on th' Exactions you late have crush'd 'em with: Nay, they now spare not to say the King's Abus'd,—and that your Ava­rice puts all these Fetters on 'em.

My good Lord Cardinal, you were just now for preaching Mode­ration; but now methinks your Talk seems byass'd Interest, and as the Rabble Dictate.

I must be plain.

And Sincere, good my Lord: And since that word has scap'd your Lips so Gravely, I must beg leave as plainly too to tell your — humble Eminence, that this upstart Humility of yours, is of too new a Date to gain great Credit; your Scarlet Robe wore late a blushing Dig­nity, more us'd to awe the Rabble, than to sooth 'em.

Were the Church Slander'd, then what Chains, what Irons▪ what new Device in th' terrible Inquisition, must plague the Heretick People?

Nay, my Lords, Let not your Passion so far blind your Reason, as to m [...]take me, since my only aims are to promote Peace among us, —which I fear the People mean to hinder.

Damn the People.

Observe my Lord, that Curse has Echo'd back again into your Ears, and only hurts you, not the People.

Hah—let's hear him, his Eminence is Preaching.

Some Instructions I think in truth are proper; therefore Histo­rically take this with you, my Lords, an [...] [...] have done. What greater Plague can there befall a City, than a Disunion and divided Interest? What destroy'd Carthage, but two mighty Factions, the Barchiniani and th' Hanoniani? What maintain'd War in France for Sixty Years, but Jars 'twixt th' House of Burgundy and Orleans? Or what late brought to England Desolation, and caused so many several bloody Battles, wherein were Eighty of their Nobles Slain, but th' Faction of the Houses, York and Lancaster? And nothing, be assured, can urge our Ruine so soon as that in Naples. —A City is like a Ship, Divisions are her Leaks,—and whilst the Mariners fight, the Sea runs in and drowns all.—I have done, only one word more—The Neapolitans, as I've observ'd 'em, are not like a Top,—they will not sleep with Scourging. Farewell my Lords.

This dreaming Churchman, pamper'd and grown rich, fears every little Gust will blow his House down.

Ay, that's the Moral of his History—his Bags; the Cardinal quakes even at the thought of Plunder.

How now G [...]rvasio, what's the News?

The Rogues are gathering still, they're now Two Thousand.

What Boys or Men?

Both now, and roar like Thunder.

Mushromes bred out of Dunghills. Brother, stay here whilst I go to the Vice-Roy to demand some of his Guards to quell this Petty Hydra: In the mean time, if any more of the Rascals straggle this way —speak not in Rage, but fright 'em with Whips and th' Gallies,—I'll be with ye strait.

Fright 'em, 'yes, faint-hearted Brother, Timorous Mataloni, I would do more than fright 'em, for your Office—which if my Plo [...]s are prosperous,—I shall not long despair of; fright 'em, Confound ' [...]m, I shall ne'er have Patience to let the Villains waste their Garlick Breath in [Page 4] answering me a word—I shall thrust their Souls out.

Roches, Roches; come buy my Flounders, come buy my Flounders.

That's he, my Lord, that's Massaniello; that's their plaguy Ringleader— I know his Voice.

The Rascal comes upon us; stand back Gervasio; let's ob­serve 'em a little.

Buy my Flounders, come buy my Flounders.—Bartallo, where's Perrone, my Brother Pedro, — and the People?

Taking down the Arms of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, my Glorious Boy, according to thy Order, to carry to the Market-place.

'Tis well, those Arms are Badges of our future Freedom, for it shall come to that, my Lads; be well assur'd it shall, now we are up.

How the Rogue swells and battens in his Impudence; Gad I don't like him, he has a devilish Look.

Peace, we shall take down his Swelling presently,—let's hear a little more.

Well, my bold Brethren, and how d'ye like Proceedings ha?

Bravely, bravely; beyond Expectation.

The Gabells shall all down, Boys, there's my Hand on't; ne­ver shall more Exactions be in Naples.

A Massaniello; a Massaniello.

How many Butchers are come to day, my noble Brother of the Cleaver, hah?

Threescore and five, my Child of Thunder—all brave Fellows, Rogues us'd to knock out Brains hourly, without Consideration, and paddle in Blood up to the Elbows; —there's ne'er a one of 'em but shall take an Enemy by the Lugs,—stick a Knife in's Gullet like a Calf, and hang him up with a Hook in's Nostrils—say but thou the word, my brave Backsword Man.

Here's a rare Rascal for ye.

Ay, they are curiously match'd indeed, if the whole Pack are such Beagles, Heav'n defend me from being the Game they Hunt for.

And what says my Vulcan, my Fire-drake here, how many Anvils want their Hammers to day, ha?

Fifty and odd, and more a coming too; woe be to the Gabellers if any of these meet 'em,—or a thing call'd a Steward to any of 'em,— such a sort of a Rogue, let him look to his Sconce I faith.

Oh Lord!

There will be a score of red-hot Forks in his Guts, before he can get out so many words to beg their Pardon.

Oh bloody minded Hell-hounds, what an Ague have they given me—

The Princes of the Thimble will be there in shoals too, follow­ing a Colours of their own making.

No Grinding will be neither, the Mill-stones rest in Peace this day.

And all old Shoes soak Water;—every Cobler leaves off his Work, and runs to stitch the Government: —Not one Profession, but brings in Numbers: —So that by to Morrow, the City will scarce hold 'em.

Rare rare News—Sirs, and merrily strait we'll meet 'em, and then go hunt for this Leviathan here, the Farmer of the Gabells,— Duke of Mataloni,—and when we have found him—

And what when ye have found him—you Mouth of these Herring eaters?—What stinking Fish would you present his Grace?

Stinking Fish;—here if your Lordship's Nose be sound, smell to my Basket.

His Lordship;—Who is't Iacomo, can'st tell?

Ay, ay, a rank Enemy, I know him well enough, 'tis the Duke of Mataloni's Brother, Don Peppo di Caraffa.

Don Peppo, Don Pimpo; —what if he be a Don,—Hem, here are those dare look him in the Face, for all his Titles.

Ay, Ay, 'tis not his Whiskers there that can fright us, Neigh­bours.

Well, what thinks your Lordship now, are they Sweet or no? —I confess, they don't smell of Musk, as your Jacket does there; but for the true scent of wholsom Fish, I dare vouch for 'em.

Sirrah, Sirrah, for this Sawciness, expect the Lash, and for the next, the Gallies: — Go Gervasio, and take account of his Fish; — demand the Gabell, if he denies it, Seize 'em.

The Dog has a plaguy surly Look,—I am half afraid to ven­ture on him: Come Friend, let's see, let's see your Fish; come, come, nay quickly, you had best.

What would you see Friend? —Hum, dost love Flounders? Can'st eat one raw, H [...]m.

My Lord, d' ye observe this?—Did ye see the sawcy Rascal?

Monstrous! Is your Insolence then gr [...]wn to such a height, that in the Person of the Great Duke of Mataloni's Steward, ye dare af­front [Page 6] the Government's Decrees, ordering all Gabells duly to be haid.

We dare; and to prove it, the said Governmen [...]'s Decree, and Great Duke's Order, I Massaniello, Gudgeon Catcher of this City of N [...]ples, and Friend to the People, Order, henceforth to be Null and Void.

And we'll stand by thee; —one and all Boys, one and all.

Ay, ay, one and all, one and all.

You, most impudent of Scoundrels,—you Order; why what are you?

Why faith, one that has formerly sold Fish for Money, but my Generosity being provok'd by these your civil Commands; I will, for once, give 'em your Lordship's Tarrier here free Cost.

Hah,—is it possible? —Well, here are those coming I hope will [...]o me Justice,—

That there will indeed, —you hear they are very near ye; in the mean time, no Drawing, my Lord—no shewing Weapons, If your Sword peeps, your Throat will be in danger—

No, nor no Gabells and please ye, but as much Fish and like your Rogueship, as you will—there's a delicate Roach

And there's a couple of Flounders, as good as e'er Tooth was put in.

Nay faith, let's make 'em up a Dish.

Ay, ay, the Gabell Monger shan't say we grutch him.

No, no, he shall be frankly us'd.

The Rabble here, nay, then 'tis in vain to stay for the Guards, I must run fort,—

No, no, hold, a word with you first, good Mr. Steward.

How now Brother, what's the matter?

Not much, I have only been playing the rough Game a little, told part of my Mind to Don Peppo di Carraffa, and given a dish of Fish of my own Dressing, to Mr. Steward there; I mean with the Sawce about his Ears or so, that's all.

And troth, since I am come so luckily to know his Worship's Title here—I mean to give him a desert of my own preparing too— when my Knife is sharp enough.—You have an ill Voice Friend, and can sing the Duke your Master's Praises but Hoarsly, yet—I'll make you an admirable Choirister presently.

You will not use a Gentleman and a Scholar Rudely, I hope.

Rudely, no not in the least; why look ye, Friend, I'll tell ye how we'll use ye; First, because you say you're a Gentleman, and so conse­quently a Cuckold Maker, and as probably would play upon occasion, [Page 7] your Game at Hot-cocles with our Wives, Sisters, and Daughters— you shall only be sequestred, sweet Sir, you understand me, that's all. And Secondly, As being likewise a Scholar,—and no doubt, a Wit,—a Poet, and so forth,—the Waters of Helicon shall sprinkle your Clod-pate— hey to the Pump, to the Pump with him Neighbours.

Ay, ay, Pump the Gentleman, Pump the Gentleman.

No, no, hold Friends, and hear me a little, I'll take him aside and Examin him—work upon his fear and hopes of Liberty, till he speaks Treason against the People, or mould him till he abuses the Church, then Impeach him and deliver him up to 'em, to knock out his Brains.

There's the true Humour of a Iesuite to a hair—d'e hear Sir Priest—can you think of no Punishment for a Delinquent, but knock­ing out of his Brains presently?

None so effectual, Friend, as the Case stands now with the Peo­ple, who have been often oppressed by the effects of this Fellow's Office; and understanding Corporal limited Punishment, I have cautiously ob­serv'd, has ran the risque of future Revenge; —but when the Brains are fairly out, you may be satisfied the Understanding can do no Mischief.

This Fellow's Roguery outvies the worst even of my Inclinations —that have been bred a Banditto from my Child hood, I find I am a No­vice in Mischief to this Priest here.

Brother, thou say'st well, it shall be so, let the Gentleman's Courtly Courage be washed away at the Pump,—then uncase him like a Rabbet,—to bring him as near as can be to the mode and fashion of the People—and when his Furr is off, and one Ear lest in Pawn for his good Behaviour, turn the Crop-ear'd Rascal loose—to complain to his Fellows; for now I think on't, to make a Capon of him—will be too much Honour, we'll do that for his Master when we catch him—and so away with him Boys.

O Tempora! O Mores!

Mores, mores.—What, you speak Latin, to affront our Learn­ing, ye Rascal, do ye; —go, go, away with him Boys, sowse him and his Mores together.

Ay, ay,—come away Mores,—jog on Mores; we'll have no Mores amongst us.

Hold, hold, Sirs, not so fast—his Master was once my Patron, and did me an especial Favour, therefore this once pray let my Interest free him.

Your Interest▪ —why how now Perone, dare you pretend to Interest, when I have given my Orders?

We'll have no Interest nor Orders, but Massaniello's; therefore once more I sa [...], away with the Gentleman, Pump the Gentleman, Crop the Gentleman, I say.

Ay ay,—away with him, away with him.

No Interest but Massaniello's, have my Life and A [...]tions been so worthless, and is my Character [...]o Insignificant, that he m [...] or [...]e [...] all — I have been thought a Person fr—

For what? To rob a Marketwoman of her Butter?

And sp [...] your Fish, you mean, for by that deed p [...]rhaps your Cods-head might want Sawse, hah.

Or at [...]he head of thy Bandi [...]ti's Troop, hast thou Attack'd a poor [...]nerant Taylor, and Robb'd him of his Thim [...]e and h [...] Bodk [...]n?

I've something sharper th [...]n a Bodkin her [...], shall m [...]ke m [...] Party good—'gainst any Grig-bobber or Trou [...] ca [...]cher in Naples, if he da [...]es.

How now Villain, dare you assault my Brother?

Part 'em, part 'em, keep 'em as [...]under.

I rob a Taylor, a fusty Dog fish.

Look ye Friends—not too much upon the Taylors d'e see; a Taylor is not a thing to be too much Joak'd upon; a Taylor can cut a hole in a Coat, as well as stitch it up d'e see; and therefore Mum, there's no more to be said of a Taylor'

Let me come to him, and I'll paunch the Rogue, I'll use him as he does a Rifled Traveller, bore out a Gut, and peg it to a Tree, then wh [...]p him round till he has spun his Soul out.

Hey day, what is the Devil in us all on th' sudden—why my Ma­sters, are ye Bewitch'd; what a pox, have ye forgot the Proverb, That when Thieves fall out—why sure you can't forget the Proverb—come, come, for shame put up; why how the Devil wil [...] ye Plunder other Folks Houses, if ye destroy your own Tenements before hand?

Come, come, rest thee quiet, Friend, and let 'em try one ano­ther, there may be good Policy in't,—for dost hear, if one of 'em Fall,—we are sure 'tother has Mettle, and is certainly a brave Fellow.

Hum—a fine Counsellor indeed, so there be but Mischief done, this Rogue cares not how it comes about.

Brazile's i'th' right; Is this a time for Fewds? And shall desire of being Chief, spoil all?—you know by this time the City's all in Uproar, the Court Alarm'd too, and shall our Jangling grind Swords for our own Throats, that so late swore to wher 'em for our Enemies Destruction? Come, come, let me propose to heal this Difference:— Will ye both consent the People shall decide it, that he who they make Choice of shall Command?

What I've already done, was for the People, and therefore you are sure of my Cons [...]nt.

I'm for the Publick good as much as any, and therefore never will oppose their Choice.

Why, that's well said,—for look ye my Masters, pray remem­ber the Faggot in the Fable,—If we hold together, the Devil cannot break [Page 9] us, but if we unbind and lie assunder, every Addle-pate will snap us like so many Switches; —therefore prick up your Ears, ye Sons of Sedition, and elevate your Voices strongly; —which will ye have for your Captain-General—a Perone, or a Massaniello?

A Massaniello; a Massaniello.

'Tis most fit and properly Chosen; I think I have made him my Creature.

For who can be more fit to lead you on, than he who first propo [...]'d your means of Freedom? Proceed there­fore my Son, and Cramp these Courtiers, and what my weak Brain can assist thee in, be sure of and command. I'll do't for Conscience sake, not worldly Profit, for Heav'n knows, I only hope to be—

Arch-Bishop of Naples—or so, that's all.

Recorded in the Chronicle of Time, for carrying on so good a Work.

Rare Dog still; —if Dissimulation had the effect of Poyson, how that Fellow's Belly had been swell'd by this time; Hum—has this many-Headed Monster deserted me too? —Well, since it must be so, I'll work by Cunning, and seem to join with them, in acknowledging their Doughty General here, till I have means and power to Revenge— and then pour on his Head with fiercest Rancour.

Well Sir, since I see the People find ye worthy of this Honour,

and that I may ne'er be counted hinderer of this Great Work we aim at—I am content to submit to your Command—and to prove it, thus shew my Homage; Shout then once more with me, Friends, and cry, Long live Thomas Annello of Amalfi, alias Massaniello, Captain-Gene­neral of the N [...]apolitans.

Long live Thomas Annello of Amalfi, alias Massaniello, Captain-General of the Neapolitans.—

My Friends, I thank ye, and my brave Perone, live hence­forth in my Bosom as my Brother; and first then, to endear my self the better, I'll give thee my Commission for my Major—Joynt with my Brother in Command and Love. Next my brave Ajax, I appoint thee Captain.

My exquisite Man-maker, thou shalt be Lieutenant.

And Stichite cum Stampo, my brave Cobler, Ensign; all my Boys, all shall have Offices fitting your Worth and Bravery of Souls; particularly thou, my witty Currier of the Law, my Quarrel-Broker, thou Pen and ink Man, as my Bosom Favourite, I create my Secretary and Pillar of the State.

Thank your good Lordship; —nay, I knew 'twould come to this, for the Crown of my Head has itch'd damnably of late, a certain Sign of approaching Dignity: —I knew I should be a Great Man, —Secretary o'th' People,—rare rare Place! Gad I'll make the Money stick to my Fingers bravely, as soon as ever I come into't.

Raise high the Arms of the Emperor Charles the Fifth, who b [...] his Charter, granted Naples Freedom, without curs'd Gabels, or these late Ex [...]ctions; Then let us send a Message to the Palace of Don Tiberio, Prince of Bissignano, who I design to be our Emissary between the Vice­Roy and our dear lov'd People; and Trusty Rock, I appoint to Summon him: If he comply with us and our Interest, he's Safe; if not, immedi­ate Ruine seizes h [...]m.

Where we'll hear Mass with shew of high Devotion;

And then Rebel—

SCENE I.

Miraculous Vision! O Celestial Deity! Thou that inspir'st my heart to undertake by Mystick words dress'd in harmonious Sound, things that surpass Experienc'd Understanding; as with thy blest Idea in my Dream I have been Extasi'd — so teach me now

the way to act, the Sense to comprehend these Wonders, meant for the relief of Naples; with Sacred Power, Charm my plebeian Soul; let but my Country's Freedom crown the Period, my threaten'd Fall I'll then despise and Laugh at.

[Page 12] Here comes my Jesuit, my new Church Engine, us'd to encourage Fires, not to quench 'em, whose Head and Counsels till I'm six'd, I yi [...]ld to; but when the Sword I grasp with Power Supream, I'll trust a Prie [...]t no lon­ger with my Politicks.

How now, my Brain's Inspirer, what's the News?

News that will make the Vice-Roy quake, my Son: we're now full twenty Thousand, Arm'd and Resolute, and e'er th [...] Sun p [...]unges in Western Seas—'tis well believ'd, shall double twice the number: The eager People throng us.

What meant that Shout?

They are burning now the House of Don Rocella, Farmer of the Gabells, with all his costly Furniture and Plate, huge Coffers too, preg­nant with Gold and Jewels, pursuant to your Order lately made, en­rich the Flame, and dazle the Beholders: Then as each wealthy Burthen is thrown in, the People shout their Joy.

'Tis as I'd have it.

Now will I sound him in my own Affair, the time is apt,

Troth my brave Son of Flame, I must deal plainly,—I confess my Heart was mov'd with some Compassion at the Sight.

Your Eyes were only dazl'd too, that was all.

Zeal for the Cause, my Son, may be too strong, that rashly throws away the precious means that can impower and arm the Cause-defenders to prosecute their pious Undertaking.

Honest Intention must impower and arm us, and the despoil­ing of Delinquents Treasure, will let the world know, 'tis th' impulse of Conscience, and not of Gain, that rights the injur'd People.

Call it not Conscience, say Necessity, the word will do as well: —Th' impulse of Conscience; What is't you mean, good Son?

I did believe, that word would suffocate his Understanding.

Conscience is but our tendrest part of Reason; and Reason urg­ing our Self-preservation, shews it must be too by the goods of Fortune: The Church is Indigent, which might be help'd by sharing Wealth, thus —strangely thrown away.

The Church is rich in Grace.

Grace—Grace is no Glebe to gratify the Body, tho it may feast the Soul: —Grace buys no Cassocks for one, tho 'tother shine with spiritual Cloathing; therefore I say, these Treasures might be sav'd for pious uses; my self I mention not, tho my needs perhaps are urgent, but for the Church, for if the Church wants Necessaries, its Flock will want Instruction.

Oh your Charity binds ye to that for your reward Celestial.

Our Charity! and for reward Celestial: Our Charity! why certainly he's Craz'd, he would else know a Jesuit ne'er had any.

But now I think on't, you have clear'd my sight, and from henc [...] forth I shall discern much better; for who e'er understood the worth of Gold, or like the black Robe, with such sense can praise it? Since then you have inspir'd me with such Knowledge, I am resolv'd to prize the gaudy Mammon, rake up large heaps, and build my self a Fortune, too strong for Fate to Level: — This is thy Policy I know, my Machi­avil, to have me Rich, then consequently Great—and it shall thrive as thou hast forg'd it; —for thy self, I know thou art so Temperate — so Religious, Devotion and the luxury of Prayer, is thy delicious Banquet; —feed on my Father,

Whilst he regales upon 'em—very good, this snagged Sword­fish Banters me—'tis plain; he'll rake up heaps and build himself a Fortune— as I have Plotted—hum—that was not my meaning; and since he will not understand me right, perhaps I'll make the meaning— his Destruction; this fruitful Brain can work the other way; can, nay, I now resolve on't, it shall do't, since he'll afford me nothing but Devo­tion to fatten with, I shall not court his Keeping; he says, I feast on Prayers, Seraphick Joys; but I know he's a Dunce, and now he's gone, —he lies.

Valasco.

Sir.

Come, bring a Table, a great Chair, Pen, Ink and Paper,— quickly, come stir, stir—and don't think to sit still Cross-leg'd at your Work, as you did when you were a Taylor; remember you are a Clerk now—and in place to mend the State—not with a Needle, but a Pen, ye Rogue.

Well, well, d'e see, your Worship knows well enough how I us'd to flourish my Shop-Bills—I put down all our Trade for Flou­rishing, that all our Parish knows—I made the best M's, O's and B's d'e see of any o [...] our Trade; M, for Stay-Tape, O, for Lockram, and B, for Canvas; I out-did 'em all cleverly, therefore I warrant ye your Worship need not doubt my Clerkship.

Oh! here's that impudent Scoundrel, his new Favourite; this Fellow must have Office and Preferment, when I must be neglected, 'tis very well, let me consider a little.

Hum, let me see a list of the Delinquents: their number, Thirty two:—Ah. How every one of these will bribe me, to save their Houses from burning, which sha'n't be obtain'd with a little, that I resolve on; rare, rare Fortune! gad I'm Transported at it.

Oh, now I have it, P [...]rone must be my Engine; his late disgust [Page 14] against this proud Fish-General—is but hid over with some subtle Em­bers, the Fire will soon break out agen, and shall not want for blowing.

How now, what makes this Priest here, with a clowdy Low'r upon his Forehead too, as if the Devil and his Conscience had been just quarrelling about some State Stratagem—hum, this houshold Pagod, with a Breath like an Easterly Wind, this Reverend Caterpillar shan't spoil my Fruit I'm resolv'd on't. D'e hear there, 'tis the General's Pleasure, that all forbear this Place, appointed for Examination of Delinquents.— Oh, is your Reverence there, I cry you Mercy,—but you must excuse me, I must know my Place.

Your Place, Sir.

Yes, my Place, Sir,—nay, nay, don't think to fright me with your Picture of the Inquisition there, your terrible Phiz in Frowns, I say, I say agen, I know my Place, Sir.

And I mine, Sir, is not this the Church?

The Church—good Domine, what then, was the Church made for no more uses than yours? Was the Church built only to roost the Rooks, I mean the Jesuits—Pish, don't ye see we make a Garrison on't. How now, Captain.

We have seiz'd on the Horses, and please you, for the General's use, where must they be put?

Hum—stay a little—put,—why put 'em up in the North Isle, just by the Pulpit.

Here's fine Management! bl [...]ss me, is that a place for Horses?

Horses, yes, Sir, and why not for Horses?—gad, as things go now, I think 'tis fill'd with a better sort of Cattle, than with your Tribe, by much; for if a Horse can't do the General better Service than a Je­suit, my Politicks are very barren.—Well, what now, Lieutenant.

Why and like your good Honour, Mr. Sec. Sec. Secar—

Well, well, Mr. Secretary; I know what thou would'st say; what apox, does my Title stick in thy Throat?

Ay, ay, Mr. Secretary, and please ye, there's the great Don— within, Don— Don— why look now, if my Brain ben't as spungy as an old Shoe Soal, Don— Don—wheigh—why what a Dickins ails my Pate now? I us'd to be as sharp as an Awl, wheigh—the Great great Man and please ye, that you sent the Writing—the what d'e call't, the Sammon to this Morning.

The Sammon, the Summons, ye Block-head you; ah, this Fel­low will never make a Statesman: —Oh I know him now, 'tis the Great Prince of Bissignano, Don Tiberio, whom I have frighted hither by the General's Order. Valasco,—go you and introduce him—and d'e [Page 15] hear, put on your face of Business and look Grum upon him—'twill draw his Pur [...]e the sooner.

I warrant ye—I'll look upon him d'e see, as another great Don us'd to look upon me, when I went to carry in my Bill.

Come, come, Sir, no more of your Chancel Grimaces, your Brow Lectures now,—here's matters of State going forward, which I know you all long to have a finger in,—but Mum for that, my good Mass Iohn—some wiser than some; therefore Presto I say,—and let your Learn­ing please to withdraw it self instantly in [...]o your Study; —shew, shew your Back side, I beseech ye, Sir.

I shall, Sir, and shew it whole too, which yours shall not be long, if Whips with Wyre, retain their lashing faculty, if it do's, then say this Brain's fit only to make Sawce on; and so I give ye to old Bel­zebub; now my intention's right, you may depend on't.

Pox on him, what a Jerk the Rogue has given my Apprehension, for tho I know I'm now too Great to be in danger of such a Punishment, —yet his words have made me as uneasie—as if the Cat with Nine-tails were just coming cross my Shoulders. —I have deserv'd Whipping, and worse than Whipping, I confess, in many Passages of my Life, but I think that's more than he knows; I was thirteen Years together bred up under a Roguish Pettifogger, where I learn'd to be a Law-Cheat, to take all Advantages by the fore-top that afforded Money, and bid perpetual defiance to Honesty and Conscience, yet still I 'scap'd—and now the Dice run higher, I think my self in a Post rather to cause others to be Whip'd, than to be Flaug'd my self. Oh here's the Prince—hum, now for a sullen morose Look, a damn'd ill-natur'd Phiz—like a City Ma­gistrate pronouncing Sentence of Death upon a young lusty Highway­man, that he was satisfy'd a little while before, had made him a Cuckold.

Well my mighty Sir in Office—now I have given ye your Fee, which by your Signs you taught my Apprehension, what progress will you make in my Affairs? Where must this Summons lead me?

Why yonder, d'e see, Sir,—yonder's the Secretary, and as keen at his Business as a pair of Sheers upon a Cutting-board: —Hark ye, Sir, I must tell ye he's plaguy deaf of this hithermost Ear—and the Drum on't is not to be penetrated, unless by the chink of Money; that Purse perhaps may stand your Friend, or else it will be a hard matter to make him hear, yet I'll try him; —Sir, Sir,—here's the great Don—the Prince you sent for, come to—

The Duke of Cavano's House too—noted, that burns to Morrow.

By Heaven, my Kinsman, one of our Houses Principals— and if I heard the Gorgon Head speak right, he said his House—must burn to morrow—hear ye, you Sir, you Minister of Fate and deeds of Horrour, what said you of the Duke of Cavano?—he will not answer me, or hears me not.

Oh I told ye, Sir—he was very thick of Hearing.

And yet my Pur [...]e can cure it.

Hum—the Purse has a particular Vertu [...] indeed; Gold has its precious faculty—for Ears as well as Eyes, Gold will do it cleverly.

Thou art a very Rogue, through all thy Senses.

The n [...]xt, the Duke of Mataloni.

Hah—my Friend too—Hear me thou—Son of Mam­mon, I charge thee answer me,—and for a Bribe, take here this golden Offering—but speak, I conjure thee.

Valasco,—set the Gentleman a Chair.

What must befall my Friend, my Bosom Intimate, dear as its innate Guest, my Heart—my Matalo [...]i.

He is Proscrib'd, his Wife is to be Seiz'd, and their House burnt and Plunder'd.

When, when, thou Author of damn'd News?

At Seven this Evening; —and now, Sir, no more Questions, you've had your Penniworth; —nor is it usual with me to afford such rich Discoveries so cheap.

At Seven, curst Chance, how much it wants of that now, I know not, nor how to be Resolv'd, for here am I, on forfeit of Estate and Life, Summon'd to attend the General of the Rabble—and so in­capable to aid my Friend—yet stay, some Notice might be given:— Dost hear, my Friend, what Hour is't think'st thou now? Curse on his sor­did Soul, he's Dumb agen.

This damn'd mercenary Rogue expects Money—only to tell what a Clock 'tis; well there, there's another Sop, good Cerberus—now wilt thou tell me?

I on my Conscience, think it may be Five,—and pray Sir, be Patient, you'll be hear'd presently, the General d'e see, is coming.

These are rare Rogues in Office, they use a Nobleman like a Dog-whipper: — Hark thee, Friend, one thing more, if your speak­ing Clock be not quite run down, I must request, and there's all I have to purchase it, which is, to call one of my Servants hither, for I have forgot a Paper at home, which concerns me extreamly.

It shall be done, and cleverly.

I've yet, I hope, time enough to set down in my Tables their horrible Resolves, and to forewarn the Duke of his approaching Dan­ger.

Come hither with thy best speed, convey these Tables to the Duke of Mataloni—run as thy Life were in thy haste concern'd—he will Reward thee well.

I Fly, my Lord.

Are the Chandlers Wives dispatch'd to the Hospital, to Rave there, whose Husbands were Hang'd this Morning?

All, all, and please ye—I saw a Dozen of 'em roaring together in a Flock; and 'twill be a warning to the rest, I'll warrant ye, how they use false Weights and Scales.

Nay, I doubt not but we shall bring things to some order in time. Adso —my Lord the Prince, what are you here still? —Alas, my Head is so busied with things of Imp [...]rtance, that I p [...]otest I had forgot your Highness;—well I suppose you would fain know the General's Business with ye—but as for that matter, without—

Without, if he means more Gold, he must Coin it, for on my Honour, I'm drawn dry already.

Without, I say, the Means to procure the Secret, it will, I suppose, be Impossible: —Hem, hem—Times are alter'd, my Lord, they were yours once—hem—hem, now we come in for our share.—Hum,— Odzooks, here comes the General himself—Pox on him, this was a little too soon tho, or I had had that Ring on his Finger there for another Discovery.

The Houses I Proscrib'd, let 'em all down, but on your Lives, no more, without my Order; the Plunder too, I will consider on—and henceforth, remember, without the form of Speaking, to understand your Duty by my Motion.

We shall, most Noble Sir, wag but your Hand, Thumb, Finger, or but Nod,—'tis done as quick as Lightning.

Begin you at St. Carlo,—throw your Brand at Cavano's Palace; and my Favourite Captain, bes [...]re you singe the Traitor Mataloni, let not a post remain to bear his Structure, but let your fury burn his Goods as gree­dily as late he suck'd the Life-blood of the People—away.—

We're gone, brave General.

There's Discipline; this looks like a Commander.—Hah, yonder's the Prince, Perone, a word with thee.—Thou see'st that Lord there—he is the only Man I'd chose 'mongst all the Court, to negotiate Matters between us and the Vice-Roy; —within this Paper is my Will contain'd,—I'm positive here, and so I would have thee, If he denies what there is offer'd to him—tell him he shares the Fate of Mataloni; —go, take him aside, pretend I've weighty Business, and cannot hold Discourse with him my self▪

Leviathan Impudence, but I'll smother all yet, let him swell on, [...]nd he will burst himself—

My Lord, the General's Head being full of Business, has order'd me to unsold his Pleasure to ye.

His Pleasure,—insolent Slave,—this is another upstart Devil, he look [...] too as if he all his Life had smoak'd in Pluto's K [...]chen; not deign—a word, Sir, what is his Mightiness so cram'd—

Softly, my Lord, he has quick Ears, and then—come, no more words, but follow me.

I vex in vain—'tis madness to oppose 'em. Oh! Fortune, Fortune, whither wilt thou hurry me?

What are the Women up too, say'st thou, Brother, and Blowzabella my Wife, at their Head?

Most Captain like Ifaith—my Spouse is got amongst 'em too for Company; these at the head of Numbers, strut in the Streets, and Arm'd with such variety of Weapons, 'twould e'en puzzle Arithm [...]tick; —they're ready for an Attack too, an Attack.

Hah, Hah, hah.—What Goose or Turky wall'd round with pow­erful Crust, are they for Storming?

'Zooks, they talk of battering Castle-walls, and I know not what; and my Sister Blowze is so wrapt up with the thought of Plundring the Dutchess Mataloni of her Jewels, that her very words are nothing but Pearl and Dia­monds. —Hark'e, here they come I [...]aith—now observe and wonder.

Bring in the Prisoners, and keep your Ranks—Close my Lasses,— Wheel to the Right, to the Right, to the Right about; there see now—Where's the General? Where's the brave Tomazo? —Oh, art thou there my Scander­beg, come Kiss me, and then tell me—how dost thou like me,—hah?

Like thee, hah, hah, hah, why this is Wonderful; prithee Wife, what mean'st thou? —What Work hast thou been cutting out, hah?

Plundring, Plundring, My Lad, Plundring, Stripping Lace off of Pet­ticoats, and pulling Gold Rings off of Fingers.— In short, I have been Bob­bing for a sort of Female-Grigs—they call forsooth your Gentlewomen,— could'st thou imagin, whilst thou wert fishing for Courtiers, that I would sit­idly at home sleaing of Eels? —No, no, Child, I rose as thou didst, own'd and carry'd the Cause; then gath'ring my She Swash-bucklers together, Arm'd in­stantly, and wheree'er we saw a Silk-worm crawl, we Seiz'd her; see, here's one of 'em, this, this is forsooth a Gentlewoman, and as I'm told, belong'd to the Vice-Queen: —You may suppose the Dress I have put her in, has some­what alter'd her, but upon the Honour of a Fish-wife, she's a Gantlewoman every inch of her.

Why Faith that may be, but her Air seems to have very much of the Vulgar in't at present.

This is the supe [...]fine Madam de Rocell, Wife to the Prior, Farmer of the Gabells, she had Brooches of Diamonds about her when I met her first, and Bobs of Pearl in her Ears as big as Pears; alas—what pity 'tis, that Madam [Page 19] should be strip'd, but Madam, I hope you'll Excuse it, we are rude Common-People Madam—your Servant good Madam, in Troth 'tis great Pity —

My Spouse there may shew her sham Pity as she pleases, but if I had met Madam in a bie Place—I believe I should have made bold to have stript her a little further—Gad she has a dainty Face for all her Rags, and puts me so in mind of a plump black-ey'd Beggar-wench I had once.

But what's the 'tother there?

And this here is one of the Marrow-puddings of Trade, a Citizen's Wife, a sleek, fine, fat, little finical thing, that would melt in a Courtier's Mouth like a Comfit: I took her Oagling at her Shop-door, and truss'd her up under my Wing like a Gizard: —she had her Gems and her Pearls too, —besides a fine golden Gown, that her Cuckold bought her by Cheating the People, at Twelve i'th' Hundred; —there she is a little moody, I see, at her odd Rigging; —her Husband may take his Tortoise again, if he pleases, but for her Shell—that's dispos'd of.

Bradamant—why ye all have done Gloriously—gloriously—and what's to be the next Exploit, dear Wedlock, hah?

The Dutchess of Mataloni; we have contriv'd it, therefore leave it to our Management, and if before to Morrow Noon, thou see'st me not trick'd in her Jewels like an Indian Queen,—then say, which some believe impossi­ble—a Woman's Mischief has Miscarried.—And to shew thee that we are capable of doing greater things than you imagin, you shall see us Exercise, and pray observe what Diligence has learn'd, Handle your Arms there.

'Tis well, and Soldier-like—go on then, my Bellona, and you, Bro­ther, to the Gate of San Lorenzo;

SCENE II.

Oh, I can never bear it, my dear Lord, that moment you depart, my Life-blood follows.

Why then, let Fate contrive its bloodiest Scene, I'll stay and dare all Accidents, grasp thee thus—within the circle of my eager Arms, and smile on the grim Hell hounds that would part us.

Could I go with thee, Heaven, what would I venture! what Walls would I climb, or what vast Deeps would I plunge! for tho I shew a Woman in my Tears, my Courage—yet for you would hazard Wonder [...].

I know thou could'st, thou quintessence of Goodness, do more than Woman; —but Oh, I must not suffer thee! I know thou would'st, with me, leap from the Window into the Moat, as I must, for my Safety, but I'll not do't to hinder thee,—no, 'tis but Death, if I stay here—and 'twill be that without thee.

Oh, name not Death, I had forgot that Horror!

Give Friend, your Lord, my best Acknowledgment, but tell him, I'm resolv'd to stand my Fortune.

Not for the World—Oh, pardon me dear Life, my Womanish Folly, I had forgot your danger, you are proscrib'd to D [...]e if you are found, yet I would keep ye here: Oh, racking Torture, was e'er Misery so truly great as mine? —Go, go, my Lord, my Doom in those curst Tables, is but trivial Imprisonment, and perhaps a daily Basting by the Rabble, Village Curs, or Cold, or Hunger, matters of nothing, —but yours is Death, my Lord, Life's deprivation; —the full gust of Horror blows with that word, upon me—end­less Woe, Despair, and all the Miseries of Humanity fall then at once upon my wretched Head,

Great Providence, whose all-controlling Will, hast for our Crimes, sent down this Plague on Naples, and mak'st the sparks of bright Nobility, lie hid in the vile Ashes of the Rabble, behold with pity, Beauty in distress, with Vertue join'd, than that more Charming far;

Oh, hear me too—thus low with bended Duty, I beg the Power that taught us first to Love, to look on him most perfect in that Passion, and best deserving it in its Perfection:

One dear Embrace then, and so part.

What yet again? Nay, I must Chide ye now, we both have Pray'd, and must not doubt Success.

Oh, pardon me, within my Breast is such a Sea of Sorrow, some must o'erflow the Banks, I cannot help it.

I'll make the Fences stronger with fresh hopes of our quick Meet­ing and repeated Joy, so once more Adieu, Sweet.

My Life's sole Joy, Farewel.

Come, bear up boldly, and now to the fatal Window, through which my Brother is already gone, unseen by the Blood-hounds that have us in the Wind, and stop all other ways and avenues: One kind Look more, and turn that way, Sweet.

SCENE I.

YOU may believe me.

And may be abus'd; you have not yet enough, Sir, clear'd your Credit.

You shall have further proof, my venturous Actions shall henceforth justify my Inclination, and back the force of these bold Words, which are,

You say enough; but may one trust a Jesuit, knowing his Principles?

When the trust propos'd relates to his Revenge, be sure you may.

Nay, Sir, I will be sure; for to deal plainly, I have not yet been bred with any Candor for Persons of your Order.

I believe it, and will not stick to say, perhaps with reason, the Peo­ple generally, have strange Notions of us, and you, I see, are biass'd by Opi­nion. —'Tis true, Church-Interest, and the forward Zeal we use to prop its Power, raises u [...] many Enemies, some whereof, burst into rude and vilifying Terms, and in plain words, Abuse us.

Yes indeed, I have often heard 'em deal so plainly with ye, to say, You're all a p [...]ck of Rogues.

Ha, ha, ha,—'tis likely—but you must know then, Sir Captain, these were all Sophisters.

How, how, Sophisters?

Even so, you may depend on't; I know it by their word of double meaning—for Rogue was meant no more than Polititian, a witty Rogue, a subtile Rogue, a rich Rogue; the word is ost mistook, but means no harm; why Knave, 'cause 'ti [...] obsolete, is now Corrupted, which meant of old, a Ser­vant, and no more: Then, Sir, as you may be a Knave, yet Honest, so we two may be Rogues, and yet no Villains.

At this rate, this Fellow will make it out, that a Son of a Whore may have an honest Woman to his Mother.

But come, Captain, pray be particular—a little more; —What noted Crime are we found guilty of?

Ah—numbers, numbers, Sir, more than your Beads can furnish ye with Prayers to make atonement for, but one among the rest most Scandalous; they say, you'll set your Penitents a Gaming for Masses for their Souls, and that the Fortunate delivering you that still sit by, his Winnings, has his si [...]s Pardon'd him for his luck at Cribbage.

Why look'e, as to Penitents dole for Masses, truly there may be some­thing in't, and practicable, but that we play at Cribbage, is a Story, our Game is always Putt, we know no Cribbage.

Oh, with your Reverence's leave, I know you'll vouch all Games, ra­ther than lose the Stakes: But come, toth' Point. Suppose thou art Sincere in this Affair, what's to be done with Massaniello? What shall we Murder him— ha Boy?

Convey a Bullet cleanly through his Head,—not Murder him, no, no, that were Undecent.

Nay, nay, I know he uses the Church scurvily, that is he denies 'em Money, and that's a Damning Sin.

Oh, past hope of Pardon.

And if I should Murder him—

Why ye should have Absolution, the thing is excellent Service, but the word grates.

And what Security for no Betraying?

The sacred Word and Honour of the College, who all will join in the Confederacy, to animate the giddy Hot-brain'd People, and in his stead, to make you General: Come, Captain, 'tis in vain longer to hide your close De­sign, a Jesuit's Head is waking, when others are in Dreams; we have found out your Correspondence with Carraffa's Faction, and know you are Intrigu'd with Mataloni: —Since then we know this, yet make no discovery,—you see the Danger's equal, therefore may trust—let us be Rogues, or other­wise, 'tis no matter.

And you will bring your Brethren to vouch this.

Go with me and be satisfi'd, however the World taints us for Trea­cheries, we are true to one another; —come, be Wise, resolve on Massa­niello's Fall—then Rise.

Well, Sir, lead on, and as I find this real, a Throat may soon be Cut.

I ask no more. Be then our General, and take the Church's Blessing.

My Lord, I lately sent you my Decree, have you resolv'd upon't?

What Sir, to negotiate the Peoples Business.

With the Vice-Roy; yes, 'twas set down so.

In what Sir, with my Honour I can serve 'em, I'll ne'er re [...]use to do my Country good, provided 'tis no blemish to Nobility.

My Lord, you so much Idolize Nobility, that you'd even make the very word a Scare-Crow, but we are no such Children to be frighted; Nobi­lity, —what's that but Power and Riches, the Will to Govern, and the Means to do so; a Titular Nobleness, is vacant Air, a trifling Sound of no Validity: What care I how the Herald's Art can Blazon, since I've Power and Riches, I've Nobility, or good my Lord, what am I in your Fancy?

You are I know not what, something that 'mongst all Tongues, must want a Title; you are beyond Prodigious, Language fails and Reason's at a loss, that would Expound ye; your Pardon Sir, I am but newly practis'd in the Trade of Flattery and Dissimulation.

What, and yet a Courtier! Damnation! is that Possible? Did ever Creature breath in that rank Air, that was not skill'd in both those Qualities? —Not Flatter nor Dissemble, say not Live; for riotous Meat and Drink, nor gawdy Cloaths, Hounds, Horses, Whores, your constant Properties in their Perfection, are not half so natural as Flattery and Dissembling to a Courtier.

I shall not make this good, Sir.

Was ever Plague so mortally Severe? Had ever Kingdom so de­bas'd a Curse? the Noble Blood of my great Ancestors boils in my Veins with Anger and Disdain, and yet the Frown of this Plebeian Fellow, spight of my Nature, Aws me; sure 'tis th' effect of Witch-craft, Hell i [...] just setting up a Common wealth, and all the Devils conspire against Nobility.

Your Wife Sir, with the Dutchess Mataloni Rifl'd and Plunder'd, are just coming in; —she's as good as her word Faith, she has stuck her self all over with Jewels, as thick as a Sir-loyn of Roast-Beef is with Rosemary at Christmass, —I had a fling at her Grace too, I told her a Lye, and had a Diamond-Ring worth a hundred Ducats for't.—Rare, rare doings, Sir,—gad little did I think of ever living to see such blessed days.

Attend all to Morrow Morning, and [...]'ll give ye Hearing

Bane to my Eyes—who would thank Providence for that dear Gift, that was confin'd to see such dismal Sights as these?

Why Sister, you don't mind my Brother there.

Oh—I look the Greater for that, ye Fool, Husbands and Wives should be careless of one another; —besides, what have I Trick'd up my self thus for, but that every Body should see me now, and I see no Body; besides, this is nothing—the next time I Dress, the Son, Moon, and Seven Stars— shall look like Farthing-candles to me. Sister, prithee mind Tomaz now, do but see how he stares at me; I'll take no notice of him, but pretend to be full of Business, as he does.

She thinks she's Fine, I warrant, 'sDeath and Hell,—was ever any thing so Monstrous—as course Deformity in gawdy Trappings, I nauseate it, but must not shew it now.—Hah, what was that! methought a Dart shot from that Mourning Beauty—pi [...]rc'd through my Soul; my Soul, tho of a piece with my course Body, yet feels the smart, obeys the power of Beauty, and makes me say aloud—She's Admirable.

No more, my Lord, let my Misfortunes hide me for ever from your sight, and I do be [...]eech ye, leave me.

Thou Beauteous Partner of my dearest Friend, thou charming Form that now mak'st Sorrow amiable; I will, but yet believe, thou Shrine of Ver­tue, 'tis only that I may the better serve thee; my Stars have here condemn'd me to their Interest, an Interest that I hate as I love Honour; and if that meta­morphos'd Female Brute there, has any spark of Womanish softness in her, she shall in spite of Nature, use ye well.

Carry the Prisoner to the place I order'd—What say ye, Sir, would ye speak with me? —Hum, w [...]ll, what is't?

She goars and wounds me still; and now methinks the whole, com­posure of my Frame, is alt [...]r'd—I tremble and am asham'd to know my self.— Hah, what did I say I Trembl'd, 'tis impossible, can my H [...]art tremble, that is steel'd with Power? Trembling implies a Fear; what can I [...]ear, that have un­question'd Power to command all, and can enjoy what e' [...]r [...]hat Power posses­ses: —Agen—there's no looking on her, I'm all o'er Flame o' [...]h' sudden:— [Page 24] Well, 'tis but ask and have, I'll send her word I like her, and if she prove pee­vish, fright her a little with her Lord's Proscription and she yields presently.— Rock, come hither, Thou saw'st that weeping Woman there.

Who, Sir, the Dutchess? Ay, she's a delicate bit faith,—gad I like her very well.

You do so.

Yes, Sir, under favour, I intend—I intend—

What is't you intend—hah?

Why Sir, I intend, I intend to—

Sir—

I say Sir, I intend to make her do your Excellency Justice.

You shall do so, go get her for me presently.

Get her, What does your Honour mean? — Have you a Paper ready? VVould you have her Sign any thing?

Yes, Sir, and Seal too.—Therefore good Monsieur Secretary, I would advise you to practise your Employment, and make her supple d' hear? Supple for me, fit to take my Impression, and let your Liking flag, Sir Ink-Bottle; these are your Ears yet I suppose—

They are so, I suppose my Lord, I have had 'em a pretty while.

'Tis well; i [...] you would have 'em so remain, be Diligent; you un­derstand me.

Hum—sits the VVind there—understand ye? Yes, yes, a Pox on ye, ye have given us all occasion to understand ye; we know now what he means by a pinch by the Ear, a tweak by the Nose, as well as if he had spoke Spanish: —He, I find, has a mind to the Dutchess himself, and I as princip [...]l Officer in Trust, must sollicite her for him; 'tis so, there's no avoiding it, if I design to keep my Place, this must be done; and I see now, 'tis in vain to think to make my self a Great Man, without being a Pimp into the bargain.

VVill it please you to give me an Answer to my Suit, Madam?

VVhy look'e Sir, cry Mercy—I think you are a Prince tho.

And your Ladyship's Humble Servant.

Hum, that may not be much a-miss, as things may happen, Od'sfish, the Man's well made—

'Tis Madam, in favour of the Dutchess, let me desire—

Oh, gad [...]o, the Du [...]chess my Prisoner; and you desire—why look, my Lord, if we should all have our Desires, what would the VVorld come to? VVhy you may desire one thing, and I may desire another thing, when as things may happen, you can neither have y [...]r thing, nor I have my thing; oh my word, this is a great thing to consider of—and you must think I know my Post, my Lord, what I must do; great things now.

Pox on her, has she forgot already the great things she us'd to do, when she sold Sprats at the Castle-Gate?—Ah, how the State-Mack [...]rel Sur­veys me; it may chance, that I may have a Hook for her, if it be so, the Dut­chess shall gain her end I'm sure.

VVell, I swear, I think I have not seen a more likely Person, t [...]e Man truly has, as one may say, a mighty promising Countenance; well, he has so, a [...]d he has a Suit to me, good agen; and perhaps I've a Business for him to do, [Page 25] very well still; why the World is alter'd now, and things are chang'd from what they were, and Odsfish, I must not be as I have been—what, I must do great things now.

I'm still in hopes, Madam, you are thinking how to gratify my request.

My Lord, you speak well, gratify; you would be Gratify'd you say, and desire my Prisoner may be tenderly us'd, and have Servants about her; well, my Lord, and how, pray, would you gratify for such a Favour?— Come, you are a Courtier, I am at present dispos'd to see a little of those Fi­nicals; —How d'e begin?

Why, first, Madam, with all respect imaginable, [...] approach—

Odsfish, is that approaching? Why, my Lord, you stand stock still.

At a respectful distance, Madam, always when we address to Great Persons. With Familiars; 'tis true, we often approach to the Lips.

Ay, ay, to the Lips—Odsfish, that's better by half, if you must ap­proach, approach as you should approach, to the purpose, my Lord.

Madam, this Favour is too great.

Puh, — never speak on't, my Lord, I am not so strait-lac'd, but I can be familiar with my Equals upon occasion, and if you have an inclination to approach once agen, my Lord—

The Devil—this is worse than her refusal; — Oh, how I hate an Oyster that opens of its own accord—but come, once more for the Dutchess's sake, I'll defy Garlick—

So, my Lord, and now what think ye of my Person and Appearance? Pray be a little curious—here's no Rumper above, my Lord, nor no crook­ed Legs below.

Oh, Madam, your Person, like the rest, must be Admir'd

'Tis true, Fortune us'd me a little coursely formerly, as to sell Fish, or so—but as to a Person, bring me any of your fine Ladies to discourse with me, or so, and Gads-fish, then you shall see.

Ah, you are so very exact by Nature, that methinks those Jewels might well be spar'd—

Why truly Nature has not been niggardly, but by giving me these Jewels, Fortune I see, designs to be honest, and be out of my Debt, and I must use her now she's in Humour.

How the Dowdy has stuck her self in the dear Dutchess's Orna­ments, and how like a Devil midst the Starry Region— does she appear: But hush—I must at her agen—

Come, Madam, do but dispatch this Grant, and then you bind me ever.

Well, my Lord, let's walk in, and as I find your Reasons are sub­stantial—I shall incline the more.—A handsom Man I'll be sworn he is— and approaches very well—why look'e things are alter'd now, and if my Hus­band should chance to be a Cuckold, why 'tis no more than what's in Fashion; I must not be as I have been, what, I must do great things now—Come, my Lord.

How near are those poor Wretches to despair, who dare too nicely scan the Acts of Providence! And, Oh, how grosly vile is poor Mortality, when it too highly values its Weak Reason, and [...]ansies Heav'n has done its Merit wrong—if I should number all my past Offences, can they deserve this Scourge, this worst of Misery? Yes, if Heaven thinks so: Let me then be Obe­dient, and like Great Cato's Daughter, bear Misfortunes with more than Roman Constancy; yet if Grief grows too strong, here is the Means, this dear Relie­ver Rescues me for ever,

Yonder are my Persecutors, and some new Plague I find, is hatching now between 'em: Fate do thy worst, let my dear Lord but 'scape 'em, these Mischiefs I'll contemn, and seem as Merry —as if their Villanies were my Diversion.

Once more I tell ye, you must deliver up your Charge to me, I have Business with her from the General, things of Importance Women, weighty Matters; there is a pressing Affair going forward—you must give way too, therefore be gone I say, your Husbands are yonder, toaping a full Bowl for joy of the good Plunder, at the Duke of Caivano's; go, go, and colour your Gills there, and leave this Lady to my management.

Ay, with all my Heart, methinks I long to see how my Husband Pedro looks in his fine Golden Coat. Adsheartlikins, I warrant he's as proud as 'twere any Don himself.

Hem, hem, Madam, in short, you must know, Madam, that is, Ma­dam, if you don't know already, that I am his Excellency's Secretary.

His Excellency's Secretary! bless me, how can I deserve this Honour? please ye, Sir, to take a Chair.

You have very favourable Stars—Madam, for as you say, this Ho­nour is not bestow'd on every one—especially without Money.

But how comes it, I beseech ye, Sir, that I am made thus Happy?

Why, you must know, Madam, that the General, who neither sees, says, nor does any thing without me, thought sit to take my hint of Commen­dation of that Forehead, Nose and Mouth of yours, after which too, to speak Unvulgarly, I express'd my self in praise of the Lilies and Roses in your Cheeks, your white Neck, and so forth, and at last, gave him signification, that you were altogether a very tolerable Person.

Thou art in all Significations Intolerable I'm sure.

Indeed, Sir, you oblige me extreamly, and I can't forbear saying, that I am not a lit­tle proud, setting aside the General's liking, Sir, of the obliging Applause of a Person of your Merit and great Office.

Hum, 'tis so, I must be the Man I see, she begins to be sweet upon m [...] already.

Why faith, Madam, I must needs think those that ar [...] Wise, will always distinguish a P [...]rson of Place and Trust; you may Cringe and Compliment Kings and Keyzars, if you please, but to us you must come, if you'd have your Business done.

True, Sir, I know it very well—and therefore since I've th' honour of your liking, what's matter what the General says or doe [...]?

Ah, what a bewitching Smile was there—she has charm'd me so I cannot speak a word, and I must be a Traytor in spite of my Teeth. —

Besides, to shew my self grateful, Sir,—and give ye Praise for Praise, in my fancy now, that Chesnut Phiz of yours, but especially that Nose, prog­nosticating strange Events, is wondrous Taking.

I have her fast, for if she likes my Nose once, the rest follows in course.—But hark'e Madam, is this in Earnest? Am I so fine a Person faith —I should be glad to have some favour from ye as a proof.

A Favour, you shall, take this Cordial and drink my Health—'tis a warm Philtre will encrease your Flame: To shew you too 'tis an especial Fa­vour, I'll use it with a Gust, when there's occasion; come, Sir, take six Go-downs.

Hum—what a Plague does she mean? It can't be Poison sure—Gad, I don't like the colour on't; why faith, Madam, I must beg your Pardon, I an't dry at presen [...].

Oh, Luxury! Great Men, Sir, are always Thirsty; —come, you must take it.

But Madam, I have sworn never to drink between Meals.

How, Sir, know then, since you such Grace refuse, Fortune thus flies ye, and Revenge a Rogue pursues.

That is, she'll tell the General, and he shall Hang me—gad I must after her and prevent that tho, for all my Fooling.

SCENE II.

My Lord, if ever humble Penitence yet influenc'd a Heart, believe, mine feels it; Oh, let me kneel and kiss your sacred Robe, thus low beg Par­don for my past Offence, then from my Soul thank you for this Discovery.

'Tis too much, my Lord, pray rise, Heav'n knows, how the vast bulk of your Misfortunes oppress my Heart, deep sense of which, and pity to your Lady, who is involv'd too in the general Ruine, has made me willing to di­vulge this Secret, which a bigotted Jesuit, craz'd with the Pl [...]t even forc'd into my Bosom.

Hell of Barbarity! a Brother do this, a Brother plot my Ruin and my Wif [...]'s, for in her Death, is mine, with greatest Horror, and this too only for ambitious Vanity, to forge another Plot—without my knowledge, even as his Hot-Brain pleas'd.

There's th' Arch-Contrivance, he knew your tender Passion for your Lady, a Prisoner now in Massaniello's House, would ne'er give your consent to act revenge by Fire; and therefore to effect his double Plot, you and Perone were to be Ignorant, for different Ends, you on your Lady's score, and he as being design'd a Sacrifice with Massaniello, who, they give out, shall fall by Sword or Pistol; but 'tis indeed resolv'd by firing Mines under the Market­place, and when the Throng is most, to [...]low up both, and to accompany 'em, your Lady and a hundred thousand Vulgar.

Prodigious Villany!

Of Powder for this Action, fifty Cantara's—are stow'd in several Pla­ces [Page 28] under Ground, enough to shake all Naples into Ruines, and glut Revenge with such a horrid Massacree—no Age could ever Parallel.

My Flesh trembles and Blood grows cold, even at the apprehension: Unnatural Viper! for a Brother's Name from henceforth I renounce, as also a Brother's Nature, by thy accurst Example, for 'tis past doubt, that with my Wife and the rest, when this most dreadful Blow had once been given (had not your gracious Clemency sav'd me by this Discovery) I too had shar'd this Ruin.

That's not unlikely, for your Brother's aim, compacted with some Dons of his rank Faction, we find, is now for setting up himself, when Massaniello and the rest were Dead, Chief Farmer of the Gabells in your stead.

I see it now, plain as the Sun at Noon, thou venerable Parent of my Life, for this Discovery gives me all that can be call'd in Life a Blessing, saving her who is much dearer than my Life, my Soul: How shall I pay my Thanks? How po [...]r out my full Heart? And how Adore thee?

Calm, calm your self, my Lord, and—cease this Rapture, I'm paid in the good Action.

May all Stains be wip'd for ever from that Honourable Scarlet, for this your Piety—Oh, this base Carraffa! this bloody Brother! But yet 'tis no more than what the Scheme of his past Life has promis'd, a Nature ever prompt to Cruelty, hardn'd in Ill, he ost would set me on to plague the People, and do things Unnatural, of which the Gabells late imposed, was one,—and which being too severe, has now Undone us.

My Lord, I see your Sense is now serene, and therefore I should be most Uncharitable to twit ye with your former rash neglect: Oh! what a sa­cred Tutor is Affliction? T' instruct Humanity, and give erring Nature the means to know it self.—Farewell, my Lord, excuse Paternal Love and honest Care, if it now sound too harshly in your Ear; —the Lot is cast, you must divert this Stratagem, or she you love amongst the common Crowd is lost for ever; they are now coming hither to their last Consultation; I was Invited, but made shift to excuse it; indeed I lik'd it not, I wish the Rebels quell'd, but cannot wish that way; —but you must stand the brunt, and countenance 'em, say as they say, and work your Ends the better:

How have I been mistaken in this Man; this Great, and yet this good Man? This is indeed a Churchman—studied in Morals too, and has a Con­science: If the Body of the Roman Priesthood were like him, just in Actions as in Words, Preaching no more than they would Execute, nor busied but in case of general Good, how many Converts would approach the Altars,

Oh, my Lord, is your Grace here? That's well, your Brother and the rest of the Cabal, are just upon Entring, Perone too with the Banditti, and a whole bundle of Iesuits following—gad the Mischief will thrive, I'm sure, because [Page 29] they have a hand in't: We shall broil this King of Herrings now I'saith—I han't forgot the Rascal's Fish-Treat; a Pox on him, he has made me hate the name of Fish ever since.

This Rascal is my Brother's Creature too, a Bear-Cub, that he could lick into what Shape he pleas'd.—Well, suck your Paws, d'e hear, and grow Fat with hopes of your Revenge, but leave me to my Thoughts. Oh, here they come;

The Jesuits are coming,—and one bold daring Fellow among 'em, who says, he'll begin first and fire the Train under the Upstart's House.

Hush, my Brother's here—not a word more now, bid him — do't, and tell him he shall be great as his own Wishes—

Well, are all things in a readiness? —Who fires the happy Piece at this proud Fellow?

Who but the brave Perone, the Soul of Naples; his Harquebuss is Charg'd, and his Heart willing.

Ay, ay, my Lord, let me alone to fire him.

I heard the t'other Rascal talk of firing a Train as they came in; 'sDeath, the Scoundrels quibble with me—and can ye aim well, Sir?

I think I can, my Lord—I have kill'd Black-Birds without a Rest before now; but if I should fail, here are some more will second me, what say ye, my bold Lads, hah?

Why Captain, give but the word of Command, your Enemy lies there, look'e, be it who 'twill.

Captain—I'll not only kill who you have a mind to, d'e mark me, but if you command me, I'll Eat him afterwards.

There's a brave Fellow now, my Lord.

A prodigious brave Fellow indeed—Damnation! what Devils have I about me? But what are these?

Oh, these, Brother, these are Friends, woven in our Plot, Fathers of the Church, who with the rest of 'em, resolve to assist us.

Nay, then't must be a Powder-plot, I'm sure.—Hah, I have it now, and Death shall never alter me.—But first, for a Decoy; well, Gentle­men, this Undertaking will be Dangerous, and therefore requires Wariness and Diligence—you'll find me ready at a Minute's warning, but first, I must Disguise my self, which done,

Methought the Duke your Brother went out Cloudy.

No, no, his Head is only busie about his Disguise—he has some reason tho, if he knew all.—

Your Reverence is Welcome; these Fathers, I suppose, come from the rest, all sworn Friends to our purpose.

All, all resolved, my Lord —they'll first assist with Prayer, and then with Powder, all sworn to quell the Church's Enemies,—And now, [Page 30] my brave Captain, since I've so well perform'd the trust you gave me, I hope you'll think a Jesuit may be Honest.

Honest, yes, to his promise to do Mischief, I never doubted that; but come, I'm glad to see you here however.

When the Laity Rebell against the Church, the Mischief that comes of it, lies on their Heads, tho the Church Execute it.

There's Sophistry for ye—he calls the non payment of Church Masses, Rebellion against it—but let him talk, he's a sure Rogue of my side; —he is to fire the Market-place.

A gad, and I'll warrant he'll do't—he has a Face like a very Sala­mander it self.

Oh, bloody-minded Villains! If my Discovery to the Cardinal, put no stop to this Business—I shall ne'er Sleep agen:—Oh, Conscience, Consci­ence.

My Sons, be then Couragious, and go on—to do a deed will gain perpetual Glory; and to excite the Cause, pray hear this Fable; The Birds and Beasts, had once a fierce Dispute, how both their Kinds should make one Govern­ment; —this side set the Lyon up as Monarch o'er 'em, but th' Feather'd Kind were for Democracy; both Parties daily strong Excursions made, but neither for long time, the Conquest had—till at the last a sly old Politick Fox spoke to his Comerades thus;

I think, my Sons, this needs no Application, therefore go on.

The Father speaks like an Oracle, let's Embrace, and then go on.

Ay, ay, let's go on, let's go on.

Away then, each to his several Charge—and when the cheerful Sun be­gins to gild the Market-place to Morrow, in all his Pride I'll fell this Giant down.

And we'll to the utmost Second brave Perone.

Now soar my well plum'd Hopes, and— gracious Fortune once fix thy Wheel, and on the highest Spoke set me but up; if I fear falling, Scorn me: Methinks my Heart's grown larger since my Plot.—Into what a La­byrinth of knotty Mischief have I involv'd these over-heated Fools, who seve­rally believe they gain that Prize, which they all work for me, to their De­struction; for at that very Instant that bold Perone hunts Massaniello's Life, so to succeed him—his own, with all the rest, fly up in Fumo: The Jesuits too are Tools; for that once done, some Troops of Spanish Dons already rais'd, —Confederates all in our intended Greatness, shall crush those Moles to nothing.—But hold,—my Brother and his Wife, whose Fate are both inevi­table—there's the worst twinge—but what are Brother, Sister, Kindred, or Friends, to him, that bold Ambition onward guides.

SCENE I.

COme, let's have another Song, my Jolly Lads, a [...]d then 'tother Brim­mer, which shall be once more, Confusion to all Gentry.

Ay, come, away with't—but I think we have their Heads upon the Anvel pretty well now, Neighbour.

Ay, ay, we may lay by our Hammers and our Cleavers; now Broth [...]r, —the Sword is the Tool of Confusion now, [...]nd so let's drink about.

Gad, I was so fine, my Wife did not know me to day; I gave her a Buss at the Mill-door, and Odzokers, the Jade took me for a Courtier, ha, ha, ha.

'Tis a sign a Courtier has been about your Hopper then, Brother, some body or other has been taking Toll in your Absence; wha [...], the Mill must go round, Brother, the Mill must go round, ha, ha, ha.

Ay, ay, tho the Soal be rent from the Upper-leather, as the saying is, That work must go forward—gad, would my Neighbour would drop once and give the Crow a Pudding, as the saying is, that I might take a Stitch with her, she's a rare fresh crummy Lass;—she's no Pin-buttock, not she Ifaith.

Why well said, Neighbour,—faith I'm of thy mind—I'd give a dish of Marrow-bones,—nay, all the new Rigging of my Captain-ship here, to beat up with her for a Voluntier.

Come, Colonel Pedro, let's have Madam Ursula's Health round, and give you Joy of your new Title, good Madam, and then to Madam Belvidore there—Health to your good Ladyships both.

Why, well said, Lieutenant,—come with all my Heart.

And I'll yours in Rhenish-wine and Sugar; what we must drink Cost­ly now, I'm a Lady, and then we'll hear another Song; this Musick with Drinking, is very pretty.

'Tis so, Sister; but for my part, I love a Song that raises the Spirits and makes one merry.

Why well said, my Lass of Mettle, this was a notable Ditty Ifaith: Prithee Iacomo do but observe my Wife in her new Rigging there; a Pox on her, she looks for all the World like thy Mare when she has a Martingal on.

Come, come Boys, strike up there while the Iron's hot, let's have a Song and a Dance—come.

Oh Mr▪ Secretary, Welcom—but why so late, my man of Politicks? why thou'rt six Bumpers behind at least.

Ay, a Pox on't, and shan't have time neither now I'm come, to drink one of 'em.—Odsheartlikins, you must leave off Junketing immediately, for the Ge­neral's just coming hither to hear Causes; I brought a damn'd Fellow to him this Morning, a lowring, horn-fac'd Banditti Rogue, who pretended earnest Business, that has put him so upon the fret with some Discovery, that there's no speaking to him, he snaps and snarls at one just like a Dog in a Coach-box —Oons, he call'd me Pimp and Clod-pate just now, only for telling him what a Clock 'twas, tho he ask'd me the question.

Adso, away with the Bottles then.

Do so, and let's talk of some new Intelligence to find out the Duke of Mataloni,—that will put him into Humour—presently.

Here he comes, and that Devil Banditti with him still; I wonder who he is—'tis a plaguy poor Rascal—and I'm sure, had not a Penny about him, because he gave me no Fee—for which I would have kept him from the General—but 'twas such a surly Dog, and those damnable Whiskers struck such an Awe into me—that Egad he made me do what he would, in spite of my Teeth.

Thou hast well deserv'd thy Life; and thy Discovery is of such weight, as makes me still thy Debtor.

Have you given Order to Secure Carraffa?

'Tis done, and Spies are likewise on Perone, to watch his Motion [...], who at this Instant, I hear, waits for Admittance.

'Tis well; and all the Avenues that reach the Powder, are they ta­ken care of?

All, all, with strictest Diligence.—My better Genius, how shall I pay my Gratitude—tell me thy Circumstances, that I may reward thee— for saving me, and two Thirds of the People: Whence, and what art thou?

One of Fortune's Bubbles, blown up and down a while about the World, and when I break, am Nothing: My Race and Birth-right, if you can believe me, perhaps are yet too good for what I seem, but that may be my Pride, so heed it not: If you'd have more know me then by my outside, which in the Figure I at present bear, expresses me—a Rogue.

Pithy and short; it does so indeed.

This Male contented slander on thy self,—bears yet a relish of some hidden Honesty; thou shalt be mine, and such a Trust I'll give thee, a [...] by its Profit shall reward this Service.

Pray, Sir, not too much of your Trust, I may deceive ye; for what I have done, perhaps I had my Reasons, but if you burthen me with Place and Office—I shall do like most of the rest in such Cases; I shall serve my self in the first place, I tell ye that before hand.

Oh, this Bluntness better recommends thee to me, it shews thou art no Courtier, no favourer of accursed Mataloni, nor the damn'd Gabellers, there­fore observe me, some of the Traitors are by this time Seiz'd, and rash Perone attends his certain Ruin.—Withdraw a while, till I dispatch some Business, which done, we'll discourse farther; in the mean time, I tell thee, I am pleas'd with thee.

And I, if my Design succeed, most happy.

Brother, I order'd you to burn the Plunder, but you will have your way, I see.—What my Bull's-head Captain and the Cobler, Embroider'd too—and the Women foisting here too, pshaw, pull off your Trappings, and send those things away,—we have no Smock business now.

Smock-business,—gad if I had said as much, the Tanner's Wife there would have broke my Head I'm sure;—what a Devil ail [...] him.

Why, Whiskers that went out there, has bewitch'd him, I believe.

D'e hear Spouse, I see he's in a damn'd ill Humour, therefore prithee be gone.

Marry gap, what's he too good to speak to us Civilly.

How now, What Noise is that?

The People are mad, I think, they throng the Market-place so, that they ride upon one another's Backs; the Jesuits Horse one another like wild Stallions;—Perone's Exalted too, and to my thinking, would fain get foremost.

Brother, and the rest of ye, keep here this Post, and on your Life, observe my Motions.—Are any yet let in,

Yes, three or four Delinquents, who were Try'd this Morning by the Court your Lordship set up for such Causes, and who now are sent to you to receive Judgment; They are a Baker and a Fisherman: But in the Rear of these,—appear two Ghosts or [...]tarv'd Skelitons, whom the Prince of Bissignano sends hither to plead their Ca [...]se themselves to you, strange fleshless Creatures, I would not have you see ' [...]m Faith; their Bones rattle as they walk like a Bag of Chess-men, and these accuse a Lawver,—a rich Lawyer, a Freind of mine, my Lord, of Roguery—poor Ideots, they are like to get much b [...]'t.

We'll admit 'em all, but let Perone keep at distance till they're di­spatch'd.

Valasco,—d'e hear.

It shall be done—

Read the Bills of Accusation against these Delinquents severally, then let me know each Man particularly.—First, What's he?

So please ye, a Baker— Try'd and Convicted in your Lordship's Court of Justice—For that he not having the fear of any thing before his Eyes, and a world of such formal Stuff, my Lord, sold Bread to the Poor sixteen Ounces in six and Thirty too Light—and that too most of it Dough bak'd—to lie heavy on his Customers Stomachs, that they might not find out his Cheat.

Hum—for Bread Dough-bak'd, and too light sixteen Ounces, well, let his Oven be hea [...]ed presently, and in it bake that Baker; bake him, d'e hear, to a Crust—then dole him round in Parcels of sixteen Ounces weight to all the Poor that are Injur'd.

Oh, that ever I was Born—Mercy, my Lord, Mercy.

Away, Bake him, I say—on your Lives see it done. Proceed, who's the next?

A Fisherman, who brags he is Related to your Lordship, his Crime is, That being sent by a poor Labourer, who works by the Week abroad, to his Wife, lying in with Twins, with some Fish proper for her condition, she pulling out her Purse to pay him, he robb'd her of it, for want of which, she and her too Infants are since Starv'd.

Pshaw, is that all,—why if they are Dead, the Parish is eas'd of an Incumbrance; Ods me, and now I look on him better, this honest Man is a Relation of mine indeed, for if I han't forgot—

Oh lack a day, Master Thomas Annello—why sure you can't forget your Cousin Bobber the Smelt-man—why I am your Si [...]er's Son, and please ye; and you may remember, how Merry we were last Lammas at the H [...]rring catch­ing—well gads bobs, Cousin, I'm huge glad of your good Fortune.

Thank'e, thank'e—good Cousin; a Chair [...]ere for my K [...]nsman.

Hem, Hem—

W [...]ll, Cousin, and prithee what is this foolish Busi [...]ess about this Purs [...] —wha [...] I warrant thou took'st it Joakingly, didst not—thou hadst occasion [...]or a little Money—for some Frolick or so, I warrant.

Ha, ha, ha, ha.—Why in Troth Cousin, I had so, you have nick'd it; Gads bobs, you know I was always given to Frolicks and to play Arch-tricks, —and I think this was pretty enough: —You shall hear how 'twas.—The Woman you must know, Cousin, was newly brought to Bed, and lay grunting for Fish, and the Fool her Husband, had no more wit than to send me to her, when she might as well have come to Market her self, if all be true as I have heard of'em—well—in came I—out came her Purse—and whip, says Iethro, I had it in a Moment, so scowr'd off—and over a Brimmer Laugh'd heartily afterwards, with my Brother Topers, a [...] the dissembling Carrio [...]—and faith; as you say, Cousin, I think there was good Service done in't, for the D [...]m a [...]d her Cubbs, would have certainly incumber'd the Parish—and to deal plainly, —I hear I have prevented that, for they're all Dead—ha, ha, ha, she'll want no more Fish in haste, nor her Brats squall no more for the Sucking-bottle, ha, ha, ha.

So—and for this notable good Service, this same pretty Joak, Cou­sin, these foolish Lawyers have Convicted the [...].

Senseless Law-Rogues, they have in troth, Cousin—but I knew I had a sure Card of you; nay, the Pimps thought to fright me with Raw-head and Bloody-bones too, and told me, that my Blood drop for drop, should be shed for theirs, and that the liquor in my Veins, who am one of the Family of the famous Annello's of Amalfi should run through the Streets, like the Kennels in a Rainy day: — What says the brave top of our House, shall it, shall it, hah, Cousin.

No not a drop Cousin—there's my Hand on't—let the bold Spi­rits of my noble Kindred, Kill, Starve, or Drown, or Poison whom they please, must knavish Law or foolish Justice controll 'em in this Juncture too, when they hope to be Preferr'd? No, 'tis enough that they are [...]in to me— and why am I in Power, but to Exalt 'em?

Right, my dear Cousin, right—Gads bobs, I could kiss thy Foot, hem! hem! Oons, I'll be reveng'd of those Law-Rogues that Try'd me, as soon as ever I'm Preferr'd.

Well, well, and dear Cousin, you were talking of Exalting—when, when must I be Exalted—hum—I am nearest Rela­ted of any—I am your Sister's Son, you know.

Why Cousin, within this Hour.

Shall I faith, Gads bobs—I will kiss thy Foot now

But where, where, dear top of the renowned Annelli of Amalfi—where?

Why, upon a Sign-post.

A Sign-post—ha, ha, ha,—well, well, Cousin,—I know you're a rare Joaker; a Sign-post, very pretty faith, ha, ha, ha.

Go some of ye, and Exalt my Cousin, tha [...] is, Hang him instantly upon a Sign-post.

Ah Cousin, dear Cousin, you carry the Jest too far now, you do I'saith.

Hang him in Chains—but l [...]t no Blood be spilt upon your Lives, he is my K [...]man, and I've given my Word; and so adieu good Cousin—d'e hear, besure you do it decently, and let him be with Ceremony Exalted.— Come, the next, the next.

Exalted, O Lord! why are ye in Earnest then? Why Cousin Thomas, sure you Joak—dear Cousin Thomas—sure you Joak.

Away, I say.—

Hum, this is somewhat odd, my Friend.

Oh—a poor Rogue—I knew he'd be Hang'd, for all the Gene­ral's Joaking.

Well, my good Friend—take care d'e hear, and there's your Fee— I have given the Secretary a hundred Ducats already.

Why look'e, Sir,—you have given me two Ducats here, if you don't come off d'e see, as cleverly as a husk from a roasted Chesnut, why then my two Ears are at your Service: —I heard the Secretary say as much just now—and he, he can do any thing; you shall see him wind the General about his Hand like a skein of Silk.

What monstrous things are here, that freez my Blood with Horror of the Crimes, and make me mad with Wonder! —bless me, what Figures too, I'll read agen—the Prince of Bissignano's Letter.

Incomparable Villany, I'm amaz'd at it; come forward Wretches, and Ex­press your selves—Which is the Widow of you, and which the Daughter?

If thou wilt Marry now Captain, here's a rare Bargain for thee— here's one won't be proud of her Bills and Bonds—this Widow will go off cheap enough—and the Maiden Daughter too—I believe, would hardly stand priming and mincing upon such an occasion, she has a Skin there would make a rare pair of Fox-hunting Boots.

Are they Birds or Beasts, I wonder—and of what World are they? For ours, in all appearance, they're utter Strangers to—I warrant that Scoundrel the Lawyer, is in a smoaky Sweat now—Ods bobs, this Cause of his looks but scurvily.

If Misery extream can deserve Pity—or injur'd Innocence can hope Redress, give ear to my sad Story, and do Justice, for all that Paper menti­ons, is most true, full Seventeen Years forced by that barbarous Brother, we have told the Hours in that loathsom Prison, fed with the dross of Earth, un­wholsom Roots, Bread candied o'er with Mould and stinking Water, all that could make Calamity grow dreadful, and yet not Kill us, we have suffer'd daily; The damp cold Earth our Beds, hard Stones our Pillows, and nightly visited with roapy Snails, that crawl'd upon our Faces, big swolen Spiders, the scream of Weezels, Rats, and Croaking Toads in Consort joined, was still our hateful horrid Musick, whilst dismal Darkness added to the Horror.

My Lord, I beseech your good Lordship, let her prate no longer she was Mad my Lord—she was Mad—And 'tis true, I kept her a little Hardly— [Page 37] but 'twas only to bring her to her Wits agen—Hark'e, Friend, I would the cretary would put in a word now.

O no matter, no matter, he'll bring ye cleverly off at last, whether he does or no, Man▪

Go on there—What say you?

The Summer's choaking heat, and Winter's cold, both which with their alternate Misery torturing our Bodies, have quite changed our Natures, our Skins like barks of Trees, our Hair like Furies, with Eagles Talons on instead of Nails, and Savage all, but in doleful Sound, breathing from our numb'd, starv'd and tormented Bodies—our Voices, that cry out a­loud for Justice, for Justice, that our wretched Trunks may feel one Hour's Pleasure, tho we die the next.

You shall have Justice, sound substantial Justice, as the Fact merits. or your Revenge could ask; Go take that Lawyer there, that rank rich ras­cal, that common Murderer of Common-Pleas, that Capias, that foul blotted Writ of Error—take him, d'e hear, and strip him first Naked, then Immure him between those very Walls where these have lain, let his Food be Wax and Parchment, and his Drink, the Liquor that has Damn'd his Soul, his Ink;

Mercy on me, why Friend, Friend, the Secretary don't speak a word for me.

Hum—why faith your Business does not come off so cleverly as I thought it would, and I can't part with my Ears very well neither; but d'e hear, Sir, let 'em Starve ye if they dare, let 'em take your Estate, I warrant he'll maul 'em when you're Dead cleverly, never fear, Man.

When I'm Dead, Oh miserable Comfort! have I Cheated so many to be a prey to Cheats my self at last; Oh, Lawyer, Lawyer, what will become of thy Soul?

Brother, the Prince attends to speak with ye.

Is Execution done then?

I saw it all perform'd,—and with Alacrity; Carraffa and his Faction all are Dead, the Jesuits also, only Genovino, who, as it seems, intending to discover 'em, has sav'd himself, but all the rest have Suffer'd; the eager Peo­ple gave a loose to Cruelty, their Heads and Hands cut off, and stuck upon Posts, adorn the Market-place, and all their Bodies mangled and torn to pie­ces by the Rabble.

'Tis well; —your Ear, my Lord

'Tis most certain so, therefore stand still and mark th' Event.

I am Amaz'd.—

Fellows in Arms, especially Perone, the chief of my bold Under­takers: Hear me; some Plots are late found out against my Life, the Au­thors of it Seiz'd and Executed, and since for the People's good, I think my Safe­ty—may be material, let all stand at distance but those I appoint, till I Explain my self; What says the brave Banditti's Captain there? Is it not reasonable?

Your singling me out, Sir, to ask that Question, is somewhat odd me­thinks— [Page 38] but let us stand as you please—I think I all along have kept my Di­stance as well as any, I grutch [...]e no Respect that I know of

Surly, but yet my Friend, you know, he's Honest, honest as his damn'd Brethren in a Robbery—you'll find it so, let Honesty be try'd; Seize him and Search him instantly, and those Banditti's there, the Villains come to Murder me.

Ah, surpriz'd just in the Minute; Oh damn'd ill Fortune!

Fate, guide my Hand, have at thee.

And mine —

Hah—have they miss'd me; then thanks to Providence, and thou, dear Figure of my blessed Angel, that still defends my Life against all Danger, go drag 'em to their Deaths; tear 'em to pieces, and let their Heads be fixed among the rest.

I was a Fool, or thine had grin'd there first. Death I deserve for that, and so Confusion seize ye

The Rascals hid their Arms under Cloaks, and by that trick dec [...]iv'd us.

'Tis well remembred; be it Order'd instantly, on pain of Death, no Man to wear a Cloak or upper Garment, of what degree [...]oever, they shall have no more coverings for their Knavery; From High, to L [...]w, Let all Men walk in Querpo. Go see my Commands obey'd, and strictly, as their Lives will answer it.

Ay gad, and with all my Heart—for I know a plaguy r [...]ch Cardinal that wears a huge long red Coat, and if he does not B [...]ibe me well, [...]'ll strip him [...]o his Shirt in the first place; 'sdheart, this new Order will bring in a Tun of Money, —and I'll about it instantly—Gervatio—come

This happy chance, which I Congratulate, shews the Divine Powers hold ye in regard; Respect them, Sir, and cease your rigid Violence, Burning and Plunder; the Vice-Roy greets ye fair too, and now agrees to grant, for th' Peoples good, Great Charles th' Emperor's Charter; my self last night was at a Consultation with him, and the good Cardinal Fillomarino—who has be­sides the Grant, a Present for ye.

I'll Visit him this Moment; he has a Character 'tis said, beyond the Title even of Go [...]dness—Honest and Conscientious, yet a Cardinal; 'tis won­drous, and I scarce believe it true.

Truth, may good Angels guide ye to pursue.

SCENE II.

Immortal Seneca, whose sacred Morals inflame the Sense, and ease the trou­bled Minds of those that can discern and taste thy Learning, how valued were't thou in these sad Times, to Naples, if every one were skill'd in those rich Jewels, which in their value, are Ines [...]m [...]ble; but as the Peoples Plague is Ignorance, so the d [...]re want of thy Philosophy, makes still more sharp to them, the darts of Fortune—What Noise is that within? Good Heav'n defend me! — [...]he State's Distress, makes every little blast appear a Whirl-wind—It comes nearer still, this must be of some Moment.

Bring up the Guards to th' door, ye sawcy Slaves, how dare ye con­tradict the General's Order? —Is it your Pleasure, my Lord Scarlet-Cap, to affront the Supream power—hoh▪—

What mean ye, Sir?

What mean I, Sir, you shall know presently, Sir,—Valasco—strip him—if you can read without your Spectacles, there's my Warrant for it.

Well, Sir, I see your Power and my Patience, as in other things, must also appear in this

But pray how far does your Commission tend? Not to my Skin,—I hope.

No, no, my Lord—to your Shirt only—I'll proceed no further, I will not shew the Church [...]s Nakedness—tho some of you give her but Tinsel Cloathing.—To your Shirt, to your Shirt—no further.

My Shirt—alas, Sir, Age has so craz'd my Body — and long Infirmity so weaken' [...] me, should you proceed so in this cold bleak Season, 'twould Kill me; —have you quite forgot Humanity?

Oh, my Lord, I know you can Talk—I know you have a large ca­pacious Wit, my Lord, and a large Purse too; my Lord, if you would save your shrivel'd Carkass, then let that speak for ye, that's the Philosophy con­fu [...]es me always, the rest is paltry, paltry.

My Purse is the Rhetorick must save me! no, to bribe Barbarity, is to indulge the sin—I will not give a Penny.

Come, come, Uncase, uncase then, the fine Weather will make you chatter your Repentance shortly, I make no doubt on't.

Hah, hands off there—What are ye doing, Villains?

Oons, the G [...]n [...]ral—we were only zealous in executing your Order, and please ye — and because the old Bishop was obstinate, we thought to fright him a little, that was all.

Avant, [...]e Scoundrels, whose Souls have more of Dirt than th' basest Dung hills; my Orders were to wear no upper Garments, but you will stretch, you will; put on his Robe agen, Rogues, and then be gone.

He is particular; be gone—ah, y'are a rare Fellow to call a Great Officer Scoundrel, but come— Valasco, a pox on him, we must go.

He bears an awful Aspect—Gravity with Wisdom join'd, appear in every Feature, and seem to force a Reverence—well, what then, Looks do dec [...]ive us often.

Is this the Prodigy, the Instrument of Heaven, and Scourge of Naples? He has a daring Front, quick Eye, and a Vivacuy uncommon in such Me [...]ness, Fatal, and through th' who [...]e Physiognomy is something strangely Terrible.

Well, Reverend Sir, you have survey'd my Figure now sufficiently, would you know ought besides.

If the strange Frenzy the Age is swav'd with, would permit your Temper to Re [...]son calmly—I confess I wou [...]d, Sir.

Proceed then, I'am Calm, let us sit down.

And to the purpose now,—what would you know?

What you think of your self?

Why of my self I think—but yet may Err—as you do of Religion— Good I intend I'm sure—tho in my Practice perhaps are Mistakes.

But we have no Perhaps, Religion is a firm and solid Basis, a sure Foundation, and the Matter good too we put in Practice.

So you Preach indeed, but should we come to seek a Heavenly dwel­ling amongst your Schisms and Artful Heresies, your Pro and Con, your intri­cate Church Sophistry, instead of Pious plain Soul-saving Doctrine, which with sound Truths should give us safe Retreat, not Babel in all its height of monstrous Jarring, e'er shew'd such strange Confusions.

And those cause all their Flock to go Astray. Your Learning only serves to guild your Fallacies; your Words and Deeds are never of a Piece;

Seven deadly sins blot out the Cardinal Vertues; rank Avarice, abhorr'd Hi­pocrisie, sharp Tongu'd Detraction, and inveterate Envy, hot Leachery, and Charity quite frozen; with your dear darling sin, King-killing, Murder, nest in the Bosom of your Politick Conclave.

I am Amaz'd, a Fisherman to talk thus, 'tis most Miraculous.

Nay, now your Passion is predominant, you break your Promise.

Only a little Zealous for my Cause—I give you the same liberty, speak boldly.

So I shall, and Honestly, and therefore must take leave to ask a Question.

Do, I will Answer.

Are not you a Rebel?

I know not by my Soul—'tis a State Title which yet I want a Definition of, but I will ask the People—their Logick shall discuss it, and then I'll tell ye: —In the mean time, to answer with a Question, resolve me Car­dinal, are not you a Hypocrite?

My Conscience prompts me to reply to that without delay, or more demurring,—No.

A Hypocrite,—Oh let these bubling drops that outwards force their way from their old Fountains, through very shame, that my unhappy Age should be affronted with so vile a Question, declare my detestation of that Crime—you do not know me, Sir.

Perhaps nor my self neither. Now I have Answer'd ye; those Tears have shock'd me, I relent o'th' sudden.

Then I will teach ye, Sir, to know your self, for should I fail to speak for fear of Death, or stand in awe of your unweildy Power; or as you have [Page 41] disgrac'd my Sacred Function, by stripping off my Robe, tho my Life were next, yet should I Sue or Flatter ye, to save it—poorly beg Pity, then I were a Hypocrite, then you might think me a corrupt Time-server, then you might brand me; no, no, rash young Man, a Good Man never fears to die, his Sands are still before his Eyes, he sees 'em run,—and all his pious Deeds proportion'd to 'em—this makes me dauntless; this controuls your power,—and spite of Tortures, strengthens me to tell ye you're a Rebel.

Very good—go on.

A most notorious Rebel; a vile Name that bears the greatest and most odious I [...]famy, breaker of Laws, contemner of Religion, Author of Murders and unnatural Riot, Fire, Plunder, and most horrid Devastation. Are not you this?

In part, yet not a Rebel—I love the King, and for him and my Country, have undertook this dangerous Enterprize; the People were op­prest with loading Gabells, and in th' Oppression, the King's Honour tainted, which I resolve to abolish, tho I die for't—and so I do this, so by my Labour I give ease to Naples, so the grieved People are by me Enfranchised, may I be torn in pieces by the Rabble, my Head be mounted on a Pole, my Body dragg'd through the goary Streets, whilst each vein spouts Blood out like a Con­duit, I am happy, proud of my Fortune, shall contentedly die, and gladly yield my Soul without a Sigh.

Miraculous still—the more I hear him speak, the more I wonder.

If my design to quell some of the Court—whose Avarice cramp'd us all, be call'd Rebellion—or justly punishing of those, be Murder.—To palliate that, I've only this to say, it is the Times Distress that causes it; uncom­mon Crimes have forc'd down Heaven's Vengeance,—and suppose me, tho unworthy, chose the means to work its Ends by.

You must not suppose it,—'tis Impious and the height of Arrogance; 'tis making Judgment of Eternal Wisdom, and Heaven the Author of the Ills you do—you rather ought to think, nay and believe Vengeance will fall on you if you repent not.

My Heart melts strangely, my hard stubborn Heart; Oh, what a power has Piety—

What sacred Vision or Inspiring Prophet gave you commission to be Tyrant here?—suppose the People Wrong'd, are you Omnipotence to scourage the Wrongers, and anticipate Heaven's Justice, through proud Will and rash Presumption—come, come, Repent, cast down your Usurp'd Power—and reverence Heaven, that thus far suffer'd ye,—and turn'd to Benefits foul Disobedience, but cease from future Ill.

This is a good Man, Deceit can never have such fair Appearance; his words have turn'd my Eyes into my Soul, and his sound Reason changed my very Nature: —Thou Reverend best Instructer of my Soul, thou hast convinced me, and I now am Penitent: and if my Actions since for th' general Good, may be forgiven by Heav'n and the Vice-Roy, this to perform, by all that's Sacred, Carmine's bless'd Virgin, and your holy self—soon as the Ar­ticles of Charles the Emperor are Ratify'd to th' People—to renounce all my Command and Power, and return to my poor Occupation, Fishery;

Now thy good Genius prompts,—'twas spoke Divinely; perform this Vow, and yet be bless'd for ever; —and from the Vice-Roy, I have here Commission to say, those Articles shall all be Ratify'd, and Gabells quite Abolished—besides a Present from him to your self.

Oh, let me kiss the Feet of my Director,—and beg his Pardon for th' Irreverend Sin late acted, in the rudeness to Disrobe him—I am a Dog, a sordid gross Plebeian, untutor'd in Humanity, a vile clod of Earth, and you should Spurn

me hence, left I defile ye— but Par­don, I beseech ye, lest Distraction make me commit an Outrage on my self.

'Tis all forgiven, and forgot; thus from my Heart I give ye Absolu­tion: And now pray rise, and hear what I'm in Charge of from the Vice-Roy, who as a forerunner to his future Favour, presents ye with a Suit of rich Ap­parel—and will himself meet ye at your appointment, there to confirm the Articles.

I'll meet him with all Joy, but for his rich Present, alas, my gracio [...]s Father, I'm unworthy—for a poor Fisherman these I have on, are rich e­nough in Conscience.

Your Person indeed, that goes each day Cloath'd with Renown, Ap­parel can ne'er Imbellish more; but yet 'tis proper now, not as a Fisherman, but Captain-General of the Neapolitans; th' Honour of which, obliges ye to wear a Garb befitting; besides your condescension to the Vice-Roy.

I am convinc'd, and now will act a Courtier, since you will have it so.

Hark, the Cathedral Bell Rings, I must attend, will you be there?

I'll wait upon your Eminence, and after meet the People, who desire some Musical Diversion, for joy of my late 'scape: I'll first be Fine, and then receive their Kindness.—Thus till the Charter is confirm'd, I'll Revel in fluttering Gayety and frollick Mirth:

SCENE I.

OH, mighty Love—how is thy wondrous Power shewn in the dangerous round of my hard Fortunes, and what a narrow Isthmus stands between my future Comfort, and my present Ruin, led on by thee, tho almost in Despair—to free my Soul's best Joy, my Belleraiza; I've 'twix [...] the Paws of a fierce Monster ven [...]ur'd, whose rancorous Heart thirsts for my Life; whose Hatred, would make a Feast of Cruelty upon me, and gorge my Blood with Woolvish Appeti [...]e—yet for my Love, my Wife, I venture all—and only now want glorious Opportunity to bring it to Perfection— my late Discovery has fix'd me in the Heart of this bold Fellow — this bold, nay, I may say, this wondrous Creature; for is it not a Prodigy in Na­ture, that a base Boy, poor, ragged, and bar [...]-footed—nay, even the lowest [Page 43] of the wretched Vulgar, should in an Instant, as by Inspiration, be qualified to hold Dispute with Cardinals, negotiate State Affairs of grand Importance; draw out a powerful Army to Rebel, Command 'em, and with a Nod, a Beck, an un­controll'd Motion, subject all Naples; Naples, the Queen of Cities, Mother of Hero's—Metropolis and Rendezvouz of Princes, and in her full six hundred Thousand Souls, as Absolute a [...] any natural Monarch—tis above Wonder— Let me wait Heaven's Pleasure then, for now it i [...] not in my power to crush him, but with the Ruin of my self, and Love; here is his Ring, which gives me powerful Trust, and Privilege to pass the Guards at any time—This may be of great use to my Design; besides, he treats me now as his best Friend —and Spy upon his Enemies—I'll feed him with such hopes—hark, they are coming from Mass—in Pomp, I hear, and a Solemnity is made to entertain him —well, let him mount,

Let twenty Troops be drawn up round my House; then let two Thousand Halberts line the Gate-way, and on their Lives, no Noise—nor none press further. If it were proper your Eminence could taste a little of our En­tertainment, I should be happy, but since Religious Temperance obliges other­wise, I cease my Suit—Is there ought else, my Lord, you would Command?

Only your Licence for an Hour, to Visit Sir, the Dutchess Mataloni.

My Lord, you shall have Licence. How her very Name, spite of my Resolves, does kindle my late Flame. Come hither—Rock—what said the Dutchess to my Suit?

Why, Sir, at first, she was at her Hums and Haws a little, but I ma­nag'd her so, that her Stomach began to come down apace.

Oh, she is sweeter than Arabian Odours.

Ay, Sir, and whiter than the new fallen Snow.

She is so, but prithee praise her not, it Tortures me.

Not Praise her, why, Sir, is there any harm in't, or if you should En­joy—her, is that such a Miracle?

Enjoy her, 'sDeath, that word has shot me through—no more, I charge ye—my late made Vow of Honesty and Vertue, and the awful Look there of that Holy Man—they shall, they must restrain me, but then Beauty and such a sweet Revenge on Mataloni—Oh, how my Veins swell!

Pshaw, pshaw, Sir, I hope you a'nt scrupulous—why, I'll make her as supple as a Glove for ye, there shall be no need of Courting.

Well, I'll think further on't, in the mean time, you must go wait on my Lord Cardinal to her.

The Cardinal—what a Devil, must I Pimp for him too—pray my Lord, consider my Place, good my Lord.

Oh, his is only a Visit, and no more.

A Visit—gad I don't like him—he's Gray, but not very Good, I believe.

My new Banditto Friend there, shall go with ye too—Grasso, come hither, thou seest the Love I bear thee, and the Trust I have imposed; take then a Secret from me; go with the Cardinal, to Visit the young Dutchess; the Ring I gave thee, gets admittance to her—then plant thy self cunningly [...]o hear their Talk—and afterwards let me be a partaker—hah, wilt thou be diligent?

Nay, if ye doubt me, y' had best employ another.

Enough—I do not, my good Lord Cardinal, these will direct ye to the Dutchess's Lodging.

Sir, you Oblige me—

Well, my Lord, I am mightily pleas'd—you like my Dres [...] so well, and I think, tho I ha'n't been bred at Court, and perhaps may want a little of their Air, as they call it—yet these Jewels don't disfigure me. Odsfish, this upon my Breast here, cost a thousand Ducats, and this upon my Rump here, as much more.

Oh, Madam, and adorning so graceful a Person too, they receive an extraordinary Advantage—I wonder those she Plunder'd of 'em, should tell her the Price.

Humh—Adorning my Person—Well, my Lord, you have the pret­tiest words pop out now and then to oblige me—Od [...]fish, you have, that I could hear ye all day methinks: But come, let's hear the Musick, and Eat and Drink, and be Merry.

What, my Brother is not in the Dumps still, I hope.

No, no, but State Affairs lie a little heavy you must think—Why truly I find my self a little Graver since I was a Lady, than I was before.

Come, my Lord General—Odsfish, what are ye posing on the Mu­sick, and Banquet stays for us — you act a Courtier rarely indeed; why, you are as dull as if you were a Gudgeon-catching; come away, and seat your self for shame—what, we must do great things now.

THis 'tis to bear a Brain—so well I've Plotted, I am unsuspected of the late Conspiracy—and now have formed another Protean Plot, to seat my self securely.

What mean those Objects?

The Heads of your two Mortal Enemies—Carraffa and Perone, the People bring to add to your Diversion; and Mataloni had not Hell aided him, had never escap'd; I was so near him, that I reach'd his Skin he [...]e, but the Snake crawl'd away.

Damn the Jilt Fortune,—had I hook'd him too, my Heart had been at Ease; Oh, with what pleasure could I employ this sword to rip him open, these Teeth to bite his Heart, these busie Fingers, to tear the Beard from off his hated Face, as now from this Curs'd Traitor, damn'd Carraffa.

I hunted hard, tho I miss'd my Game; and tho some of my Brethren were found Tardy—of which some twenty six being since Impeach'd—I have seen Executed—yet I hope the General heard of my Diligence.

I did, my Politick Father, thou art Honest.

Thou art a Coxcomb, and I'm satisfy'd.

But this Mataloni still goads my Heart—hah, have I no way to Re­venge my self?—Yet now I have it—his Wife, his Wife must do't, I'm now resolv'd on't—I'll send this Priest to fright her further, and then Attack my self —A Bottle or two more, will make me fit—the Prince there must know [Page 46] nothing—I'll leave him therefore here—Go once more, mount the Trai­tors Heads. And, Brother—and you my Officers, I invite ye to my Closet for an hour, to drink a private Brimmer—come along Boys, we'll have one Glass before we part, Success to our next meeting in the Cathedral.

Bless the General, Bless the D.

'dsheart, they are all gone, and have left me to be Baited.

Gadslid, did ye ever see such Sneaks as the General and my Major ar [...], [...]if they ha'n't flinch'd from the Glass, to go and parboil their Guts with Coffee now—there's no Spirit in Spanish, poise on't, I hate such Trifling— if we come to be Merry, let's go through stitch; where do's the Prince's Health stand?

Here 'tis, and o'e [...] the Left-hand Thumb it comes to himself; here's your Health, my Lord—would I had him in one of our Tan-pits at home.

Ah, he's a precious one—

I must get out some way or other, this rampant Fish-Wife will pelt my Eyes out else.

My Lord, I think I heard you say, you were never Married, and truly you deserve to be Priz'd for't extreamly—Odsfish, a Batchelor has such a peremptory sort of way with him to Married Men; Oh, faugh, a Mar­ried Man's quite another thing, I know't by my Husband.

So, if Cuckolding this Fish General now were a Revenge sufficient for the Nobility—I think I'm in a fair way to Oblige 'em.

Madam Ursula, what thinks your Ladiship of another Song?

Why truly Madam, very well, if your Ladiship will oblige us.

Nay, Madam, the best Voice must be preferr'd always.

Nay, nay,—rather than let both your Ladyships bustle about it, I'll do it my self—my Lord the Prince, prithee come and sit nearer me— and don't lie glaring at me with your Twinklers, but come and hear my Song, 'tis a merry one I'll promise ye; now how d'e like it.

Oh, 'tis most Ravishingly well, Madam—thus am I oblig'd to Lye two or three times a day at least to keep my self in Favour. 'dsDeath, there's no getting off: Oh, I think I have it—

Odso, I had forgot a business of Importance, which the General should have seen before; I beg your Prrdon, Ladies, I must be abrupt and go seek him.

Pshaw, not yet, my Lord, not yet, 'tis time enough to seek him come, come, pray let our Business be done here first.

Oh, Madam, 'tis from the Vice-Roy, and of prodigious Conse­quence: Curse on my Fortune, that envy's me this pleasurable Minute, bu [...] I'll dispatch and return, Ladies, with all haste imaginable.

Well, you know my Closet, my Lord—and since you must go, pra [...] dispatch quickly—and you shall find us there; we'll go and settle our Sto­machs with a dram or two of my Water; for you must know, my Lord, I mak [...] such Water, such heavenly Water, it will make a young Fel [...]ow [...]isk up to th [...] Moon, and an old Fellow's Heart dance the Canaries.

I am instructed, Madam, your Humble Servant: 'Tis well I fou [...] this Excuse—I should have been Drunk too, if I had staid, I find.

Well, Odsfish, he's the Prince of a Man every way—and we'll hav [...] [Page 47] his Health agen before we part, I'faith; Come, let's enjoy our selves, we'll think no more of the sneaking and pinching of our former days, but hug Fortune, and take Pleasure in by Belly-fulls; come along, Lasses: What, we must do great things now.

SCENE II.

She's in her private Alcove there—and the Cardinal's gone to her, I suppose to help her in her secret Devotion, these Churchmen are rare Terri­ers, they can hunt in a dark Corner rarely. Od, she's a lushious Cr [...]ature, Friend, hast ever seen her? When he's gone, I'll try if I can Ferret her my self.

Curst Imp of Beelzebub, what does he say? But d'e hear, Friend, I'm order'd here unseen, to observe their Actions, let us withdraw then—the Ge­neral at yonder door would have you to wait his coming—and then give me Notice.

Well, Sir, I hear ye; I do most damnably hate this Fellow, and yet I dare not quarrel with him—and yet the Rascal interlopes upon my Business— and I find, creeps into the General's Favour every day more and more—and must Ruin me in time; say you so, why then be wise, Friend, and Ruin him first —send him packing, and if thou hast not two penny worth of Courage, Oons, buy two penny worth of Rats-bain, and that will do't every whit as well.

I've sent that Fellow on a trivial Errand: because he should not hear the approaching Passages, and see where my dear Belleraiza comes; Oh, how my Heart pants with uncommon Joy which my hopes give me of my good Success—she Weeps, hah, and looks pale—and talks with Passion; perhaps these Devils may have wrong'd her Vertue—Oh, Hell, if that be so, I'm lost for ever; I am afraid to hear, and yet must listen.

Thus every hour they torture me, first, they fright me with my Lord's being Taken, and then follows the Villain's Brutal Love.

Let your kind Heart with this assurance rest, he yet is free and safe.

Blest be that Tongue, the pangs and hourly sorrows I must suffer for him, now I shall bear the better—for I expect this Evening a fresh Onset, ano­ther odious Love-sollicitation, and now I am prepar'd.

Prepar'd for it! how my Impatience burns me—I'll go forward and try her now my self.

Oh, this persidious wi [...]ked faithless Wretch! he swore to me, and bound it also with solemn Vows and serious Protestations, to be the Author of no more vile Actions; he promis'd to lay down Arms too, and then take up his old Mechanick Occupation—but his unbala [...]c'd Head forgets it; thus want of Honour in all base Born Creatures, make 'em so little value things so Weighty.

Yonder another of his Engines comes—Oh, how I hate that horrid baneful Face, and the more horrid purpose he's Employ'd in, which rather than consent to, or be forc'd, I've yet a means left in my power to help me, one dear, dear R [...]medy I've yet obtain'd, to keep my Faith to my dear Lord, and free me.

Take heed best Daughter—how you offend the Deity, or doubt the aid of Providence, by using Violence on your self, you have heard self-Mur­derers Punishment.

Oh, preach it not, good Father—Heaven were unmerciful; cruel Ex­tent, to expect gen'rous Vertue should wa [...]t to the last Moment for a Miracle.

Heaven guard ye sooner, I do not doubt it will—your Business seems with us, Sir—what's your Commission?

The General expects a private Conference with the Lady—the Bu­siness is not proper for your Ear, my Lord.

If 'tis a sin Affair, as I suspect, it is most proper that I should be near, with holy Admonitions to prevent it.

Prevent the sallies of hot Love, my Lord, with cold Divinity, 'tis vain, vain Labour, good your Grace retire—to you Madam, I am to tell this News—your Lord is Taken, and by the General's Order, Dies to Morrow, unless to night your beauteous Charms repeal it.

Peace, horrid Screech-Owle—Oh, for a Basilisks Eyes to blast the Author of the dreadfulest Tydings that e'er forc'd through the Ear into the Heart.

What think ye now, My Lord, of patient Virtue, waiting for Champion Guards sent down from Heaven, one Hours delay may cause the brave Intention too late to be effected; the Ravisher's coming, Hells Gates are open, and he rushes in, methinks I hear him already, no more hope of Divine help then—but be sudden.

My Lord, your Absense will be very requisite.

My Presence is much more—I will not still—but with my Bosom bare, oppose the worst that Lust and Rage can offer to her Chastity. Oh, thou bright Mirrour of Celestial goodness, thou Pattern in perfection of blest Women, think not I e'er will leave thee till I'm Dead, no, we'll both die e'er Villainy shall Prosper; then when the Beams of Immortality have ra [...]ified this Clod we wear below,

Madam, you see the Cardinal's Old and Obstinate, I hope you will con­sider better.

It is, it is resolved, I'll do it with a Smile, and calm as Infants in a Le­thargy—and so prevent the Death of that good Man—that honest Bishop, for he's one I'm sure.—I have consider'd, Sir,

Now hold my Temper—well, Madam, what's the result?

Why, Sir, Extremity conquers all Resolves—my Husband's Death and my own Misery, are things of Weight—pray take aside the Cardinal, and mould him but to give me Absolution, only to satisfie a scrupulous Con­science, and then I'll give an Answer satisfactory.

Tho that dire Answer gives me Life or Death—my fatal Curiosity must hear it.—A word, my Lord

Now aid me, Love—ye Powers that value Honour, strengthen my Heart and Hand.

Away—hold, noblest Daughter da [...]h the Poison down, famish Despair, still let us trust to Providence.

Hah—the Poison—Almighty Powers, what had I like to have done! Oh, thou sweet Angel.

Stand off, blackest Devil.

Off my Disguise—Oh, let thy sight be free, whilst to thy panting Heart, I give thy Husband—thy Love, thy Mataloni.

Mataloni, Is't possible! Oh, thou Extream of Joy!

My Wife, my Soul, my dearest Belleraiza—forgive my late Curiosity, which but for this good Lord's preventing it, had damn'd me past Redempti­on—Oh, thou best of Women.

How I've adventur'd, and what Dangers pass'd, I'll tell at better lea­sure, let it suffice now—this Ring gives means for your delivery, which we'll this Instant put in Execution.

New Joy so crowds my Heart, I cannot bear it.

Hark'e, some body's coming sure.

'Tis so; here's th' Secretary—hah, and that Villain Jesuit that broac'd the late Conspiracy—stand still, my Love, I'll get but th' Wind of 'em—and then we are safe enough.

Look'e, they're together still—I think the Devil's in these Cardi­nals— when once they get a Woman into their Clutches, they'll never let her go.

Why, Sir, I hope you don't doubt but we can distinguish Blessings Sir, of which a Woman is not I think, the meanest, when she is Beautiful and Kind which this must be through meer necessity, she knows she's in the Trap.

And so are you—good Pole-cat, and your Fellow Vermin there.

Horror—who is't I see—the Duke of Mataloni.

The Devil.

Stir not a Foot, Villains—for if you do, your Souls follow the Mo­tion; and tho your Crimes deserve immediate Hell, yet from the noble hand of Mataloni—thus grovelling down, your baseness keeps ye safe.—Come my fair Love, and my most honoured Father, this is our happy Moment, let's pur­sue it. On my Disguise once more, and in my Chamber I've one for thee, my Blessing; then through the Guards we'll haste to th' Vice-Roy's Castle, and leave those lock'd up close to plot new Mischief.

Heaven's Care, admir'd Mataloni — go lead on.

And most Charming Wife.

We have made a rare hand on't; a Plague on your Mouse-trap, you ominous Vermin, let's see now if you can Conjure us out here: let's hear your Sophistry; break open the Lock there, with a Pox t'e.

I might as well Curse your dull Pate, Sir Scribler, to let a slight Dis­guise out-Wit ye thus —how came he into Trust?

Why the Devil ow'd me a spight; I brought him to the General first, 'tis true, mistaking him for a Banditto—and finding him even bloated with a Discovery; —but what's that to the present purpose? What business had you [Page 50] there with the Dutchess? 'Twas to know that, drew me hither after ye, I had been safe else.

I had particular Order, I was to Pump her.

Were ye so, Timothy Transub—were ye so indeed; and for which pumping Design, there's a good Thump for ye Rascal: d'sheart, another Inter­loper in my Business, come on Rogue, are ye good at Procuring, as soon as ever ye have got into the Bobtail'd Mode, a swell'd Nose and a black Eye, are proper for ye; I'll make ye look a right Ba [...]d presently.

This Purse shall do me Justice instantly—I'll be reveng'd, nay, tho I loose the Money, the Spirit moves now, and thou shalt feel my Anger.

Heated with Wine, and fit now for the purpose; Where is this Charm­ing Dutchess, whose bright Beauty e'er since I saw her, has inflam'd my Heart; my Heart, that has possession of all Pleasures that Greatness brings in its full range of Power, shall Sate its Wishes with one Bliss beyond it, the best and dear­est, a fair Ladies Love, then I may boast, I have been truly Happy.—The Cardinal is gone hence, but where's the Lady; and where my Creatures, Rock and Genovino.

Ah, he's Fluster'd, I see—we shall have a rare time on't—would I were any where, but where I am, tho 'twere in an Oven that had just been heated, I could not be in a greater Sweat I'm sure.

Hah, are not these they—or do my Eyes deceive me? Is not that Rock?

The Ghost of Rock, and please ye, but not the real Substance, that was frighted away with an Apparition of the Duke of Mataloni, that was here just now.

How he tortures me—what, Mataloni, Dog-bolt.

Why Sir, in short then, since it must out, the Banditto Captain that you have Entertained and Trusted—was that Devil, Duke of Mataloni in Disguise.

Hell blast thy Tongue, and where, where's the Lady, Rascal?

Gone, gone, Sir, gone—he threatn'd to Murder us if we cry'd out or stirr'd, and then took her away, and Lock'd us in—and by virtue of the Ring you gave him—they're past the Guards by this time.

How my Rage Choaks me—I could tear my self, dash my besotted head, and with these hands pull from their Socke [...]s these dull useless Lights— that could not guide my sense in such an Exigent—Sense, Death and Hell, I had no Sense—no Soul; for had I either, or my Sight, or Feeling—I must know what my Nature so Abhorr'd—through the meer force of strong Antipathy. Hah, but now I think on't Dog, 'twas your Officious Villany first brought him to me— how came it? Answer that Slave.

Alack, by chance, my Lord—meer chance; he said, he had great Business with ye.

Ah, Mr Secretary, no more Deceits, respect your Conscience, good Mr. Secretary.

What say'st thou, art thou privy to any thing? Does he play Fals [...] with me?

Not I, my Lord, upon my Soul. What does that Rascal mean?

My Lord, though I see his Conscience is quite [...]ear'd, yet I must ease [Page 51] my own—the Man is Guilty—Accomplice with Carraffa and their Fa­ction—and brib'd to assist the Dutchess's Escape.

Oh, monstrous Hell-hound.

Here's a damn'd Rogue, for ye, here's a Priest for the Devil— I hope your Excellency won't believe him—for may I be Parboil'd, or Roast­ed upon a Grid [...]Iron my Lord, if ever I saw Carraffa.

Oh, vile, vile Sinner,—dar'st thou look in my Face and say this?

Look in thy Face—why thou confounded Villain—I confess, thy Impudence does dazle me—but I beseech ye, my Lord don't believe him.

Not believe me, why, my Lord, he own'd it a little before you came, upon which, my Choler being rais'd, we had a Bustle and some Blows, which is the occasion of this my disorder both of Head and Habit: —But for a more convincing Proof, search him, my Lord, and without doubt, you may find Carraffa's Purse, in which the Golden Bribe is now about him.

Search me, Satan—send all thy Imps to do't, I fear 'em not—but come, I'll do't my self—I'll make a plain Discovery, my Lord, Empty my self before ye—Oh, Murder, Treason.

The very Purse, by Iove—and with Carraffa's Cypher on't; Oh, damn'd, damn'd Traitor.

You have made a very plain Discovery, in Troth, Mr. Secretary.

I will be so reveng'd.—Here Father.

I am Bewitch'd—I'm not able to speak—Oh, Dog, Dog, Dog.

This Key unlocks all the Doors— where are my Guards there.

I beseech your Lordship, hear me but a word.

Away Contagion—Seize that Traitor there, Whip him round the Market-place, then Hang him in Chains, for Crows and Daws to feed on.

I think now, Friend, I am better than my Word — I only promis'd ye a Whipping, you know—and now have added something more.

Oh, that my hands were at Liberty, Devil.

Alack, is he th' occasion of thy Sentence? have Patience a little, and my tender Conscience shall help thee to a Revenge—My Lord, be pleas'd to read that Paper.

.

What's here! a List of the Conspirators in the Powder-Plot, and Genovi­vino's hand amongst the foremost—'Tis so, I know his Character, and this the Fellow that the Cardinal spoke of, who made the first Discovery—Guards, take that Jesuit too, and use him like the other —

Oh, Devil, hast thou deserted me at last?

So, so come along Priest; —we shall see now how that sleek Back of yours can bear the Lash—and your Neck become a Halter—and now you may give your self to the Devil too, if you please.

Well, the gaping Rascals shall not hear me confess any thing; how­ever, I'll be true to our Order—who I know, will all vouch my Innocence, pray my Soul out of Purgatory, and make me a Saint for [...]ver into the bargain.

These were both Rogues, and have deserved their Punishment. But now, Sir, to some Business of more Weight; the Vice-Roy and Great Colate­ral Council—have caus'd the Art [...]cles to be Engraved like those of Old of Charles the Fifth and Ferdinand, all that your Heart can wish▪ to free the People—is there Inscrib'd with care and diligence. A Marble Monument is Erected like­wise, where in large Golden Letters is Decyphered the Infranchisement of Naples from all Gabells—by Great Massaniello.—You are desir'd therefore to meet in the Cathedral Church to Morrow, where after high Mass and Cele­stial Musick, the Deed's to be on both sides Sealed and Ratifi [...]d.

I'll hear no more of trifling Business now, my Head contains a Tem­pest, my Brain burns fiercer than AEtna or Vesuvius's Mounts—I'm mad with Rage, and therefore let all Nature, like me, be in Confusion; he that speaks of Order and discretion in Affairs, is my Foe; my hour, shall be Man­kind's, and in that moment when I Wisely act, let them be struck with endless Lethargy: —am I not here Supream? I am; and yet my Soul Wish [...]s to Sway the rest—and that the Globe obey'd my Will—I would confine the Winds—stop the due course of Seas, and make the Sun influence the World by my peculiar Order; but since that cannot be, let this suffice—

My Lord, You must not mind what he says now.

Love, Anger and Claret, have made him at present a little out of Order, but you shall see he'll quickly come to himself again.

He talks none of the Wisest now, 'tis true, but for all that, I'll wage a fat Bullock against one of thy Sacks of Meal, Neighbour, that he goes to Church as soberly to Morrow as the Cardinal himself.

Oh, no doubt on't, no doubt on't.

Where's Valasco? I warrant now his Master's gone to be Hang'd, that poor Rascal will be out at Elbows agen.

Ay and out at heels too, if thou out of thy Noble Compassion do'st not help to mend him, Cobler.

Well, Friends, you'll put the General in mind then, you know 'tis a Business of Concern.

We will, we will, my Lord.

He has sworn to lay down Arms, and yet I doubt him, for Power, like n [...]w Wine, in so young a Head, may well intoxicate and turn the Brain— yet not to do't, ushers his certain Ruin; for let Rebellion revel for a while, and by th' Almighty's Suffrage—plag [...]e a Kingdom, there will be yet an hour mark'd out for Vengeance; this then I Prophecy for Massaniello;

SCENE I.

STILL does Heaven's Anger reign; still is poor Naples crush'd by the weight of proud Rebellious Power: Na­ture, and the whole Face of Things are alter'd, and seem to yield the sway to Mad Confusion: Yet in the Hurry of our strange Misfortunes, me­thinks I feel a spark of Joy, my Lord,

to see you safe, and having heard your Story, at once re­joyce and wonder.

I humbly thank your Highness; and declare amongst the Plunder of the Harassed Nobles, tho' I have felt the worst Bar­barity, Rebels could act, or Malice make inveterate; Yet my re­lieving my dear Belleraiza, tho' my [...]nnatural Brother lost his Life for't, has clearly wip'd off Fortune's Injuries, and made me once more happy.

And to Parallel your Joy, my Lord, let me exert my own: I have a Daughter dear to me as Health, or the Life-blood that warms my Aged Heart; Train'd up in good by an Indulgent Mother, and ever since Kind, Vertuous and Obedient; she by your timely no­tice [Page 2] Scap'd from Outrage, and e're the Horrour of my Houses Burn­ing, was sav'd with me to bless you for the Deed.

Almighty Powers, what horrid sounds are these! Plunder and Burnings are the dismal Knels that Toll perpetually! Black Horrour, Revels, and Ruin Triumphs in the Streets of Naples; whil'st in the Viceroy's watry downcast Eyes, we read the baleful Tidings of Distress: But yet, my Lord, we must not drink De­spair; that Draught let me throw by, and dash the Goblet, urg'd by the Fiends to hinder future Blessings.

No, my Good Lord, my Courage is my Antidote against Despair, and keeps the Poyson from me; yet to a Soul less great than mine to see, the strange Revolves of Fate, the Court's Disho­nour, the Ruin of our best Nobility, the danger of our Starving; all Provisions on pain of Death, being hindred to come near us; and this comman [...]ed by a Beggar's Brat; A base Plebeian moulded from a Dunghill! This to a Heart less brave, my Lord, might shock and force the Soul from her Religious Ward, to prompt a de­sperate Action.

Therefore, Faith, and it's Twin-sister, Hope, must rule your Reason.

Therefore it does so; but my Wife, I fear, has other Sen­timents; her noble Spirit, bred from the Princely Race of the Me­dinae, to be block'd up, and as it were Imprison'd by the Rabble, breeds a ferment in her Breast, not easie to be quel [...]d.

Though her Confinement must be Irksome to her, being block'd up at Land—yet th' Sea is open; which poor Advantage tho' of slight regard is, as I understand, now her best Comfort; for every Evening in her Rich Felluca, accompanied by my Daughter, who to please her, sings to her Lute, and Charms the Neighb'ring Ecchoes, between the Castle-Port, and the Wide Ocean, she Rows to take the Air.

So please your Excellence, the Vice-Queen in hast desires to have Audience.

Tell her she's Welcome.—More ill News, I fear, has reach'd her knowledg, for her Cloudy Brow seems to foretell a Storm. Now Madam—What's the Matter?

Matter of Death,—Nay, more, Damnation, were it in my pow­er: Oh that as my just Anger makes my Breath vent out these loud Complaints, it had the power to blast this Monster with Eternal Plagues,—this Skreeking Mandrake, this vile Earth-born Clod, [Page 3] that dares Prophanely thus send Sawcy Missives to blast the Eyes, and grieve the Hearts of Princes.

From Massainello?

He! — the ill-bred Rebel! Writes in a Stile as if he were my Equal, Advice to me — that I should speak to you, to you my Lord, as you expect his Favour, — his Favour, Oh Gygantick Im­pudence! would make Hell blush, and every Fiend wear Crimson▪ To send him back the Dutchess Mataloni!

Audacious Slave!

His Ruffian Brother too would see my Neice, — my dear Fellicia here too as a Suitor: Oh how a Noble and August Disdain warms every Sinew! — How the Active Blood

Have Patience, Gracious Madam.

'Tis impossible: Such Injuries are past all Moderating: He says, the Duke there basely stole his Wife, whom he design'd to keep there as a Hostage, till th' Articles were Seal'd; and if Sub­mission does not attone, and is not made on th' Instant, she too sent back together with my Neice. He ends his Scrowl with a vain­glorious Rant, that he'l send Power to [...]etch her back by force; and beat the Castle-walls about our Ears.

Oh that my Sorrows had but force enough to lay me in my Grave, that I might rest!

I hope my Love does wish too, I should be with her there.

Or that you and I were Villagers, born in some far remote and peaceful Land, that War's Confusion ne'er did understand; where we instead of Greatness had been blest, with darling Com­forts from our daily Labour; where Love still exercis'd his Charming Power, and sweet Contentment made us wish no m [...]re;

But how shall poor Fellicia hope for Comfort, if from her Fa­ther she is forc'd away? Oh let me stand the worst of Fortune's Ma­lice, rather than from my Life's Original, be parted till I'm dead: Besides, to toll me of a Ru [...]fian's Love,—tor­tures

my Heart so, I e'en hate my self for giving him occa­sion but to name it. Love, as I'm told is the Soul's choicest Blessing; the greatest Joy that can reward the Brave; or Beauty joyn'd with Vertue can expect. A Sacred charming and peculiar Grace; and e'er that's forc'd, which Merit should enjoy, by Rebel-power, good Heaven let me die.

Thou Living Mirrour of thy Mother's Sweetness [...] in whom I now behold by kind reflection, the former Joy that us'd to warm [Page 4] my Heart, take this Assurance from a tender Father, — never to separate thy Duty from me, nor yield thee up for fear of any Tor­ture that Cruelty can threaten.

And what say you, my Lord?

When I consent to send the Panting Heart from out my Bosom, I mean its dearest Guest, my Belleraiza,—a Hostage to Re­bellious Insolence; may the curst Rabble, like a Flock of Vultures, tear me to pieces as a common Prey.

Nor will I e'er advise it, — Villany is still most slily couch'd with a pretence most specious: The Relapse of this un­curb'd Plebeian—wounds my Breast, with such a hated sense of his Impiety, that I abhor all Motions he can make, therefore let's trust in Heaven and our Arms.

Your Eminence has spoke my Heart; let's fortifie, and to his Face send back his Insolent Message, with a resolv'd denial; then relie on Heaven's relief, or bravely sighting die.

Die! — 'tis a Pleasure to my Soul to think on't, so we may die reveng'd — or at least frustrate, the barbarous Plots of base Plebeian Mischief.

'Tis what shall Crown our Souls with Endless Bliss for a Pain Momentary.

Which Infants hardly shrink at.

Learn of me ye withering Blossoms of distress'd Nobility, how to defie the Ills of Destiny, and worst of Fortune's, Malice. Steel your Hearts with Honour first; then with Generous Resolution; and let Aurelia nobly guide your Steps into the Temple of Perpetual Glory, by a brave Deed irksome to our soft Natures: Yet Portia and Great Sophonisba were our fam'd Examples, and when Lawless Pow­er, and Savage fury threatens with Captivity, - when that hour comes, mark me ye Twinns of Vertue when you behold my Conquer'd Spirits faint, with a bright Dagger drench'd in my warm Gore, or my Eyes languish with some Poysonous Draught, which my own hand has nobly ministred.—

Thus when a noble Heart inspir'd with Honour is fill'd with the sharp sense of smarting Wrongs — thus still it vents its Sorrow,— I must follow her. And tho' I see Grief's Fever ra­ges high, perhaps with care, good Reasons may abate it.

Stay, good my Lord, a moment, for I think I see the No­ble Bissignano coming.

'Tis he, my Lord, and in his Cheerful Countenance, I hope I read good News.

Pray Heaven it prove so.

Health to the Viceroy — and to all the rest, my Gracious Lord, and you my Noble Kinsmen.

My good Lord, as well as Wretches who are hourly fright­ed with Cannons Battering, or Proscription's Terrour, as well as those whom a close Siege has rendred incapable of getting Necessa­ries, or as well as those by Hunger almost pin'd or grip'd by pinch­ing Sorrow, can bid you welcome, we return your Courtesie. And now desire to know our several Dooms; You are Fate's Minister; the Tongue of Destiny; — What Order bring you now? what dreadful Thunder, since his revolt of Sealing th' Articles, and his damn'd Message to send back the Dutchess; must we leave our half-starv'd Bodies? Hah! what says th'Leviathan? Who's to be swallow'd next?

Himself, my Lord, into the deepest Pit of the Infernals, sooner than such fear'd harm, should touch your Highness: No, no, my Lord, I bring ye better News; the Wind is chang'd, and his Intoxicated Brain reliev'd by Rest, which the full Bowls before di­stemper'd, he now resumes his Sense, and seems asham'd of his late breach of Promise to the Cardinal.

Is't possible! can he relent!

He does wi [...]h great Concernment; owns too his late rude Message to the Vice-Queen; and says, the Duke's Escape with his fair Lady was noble and well-plotted.

This looks too sudden, I fear a Snake lurks underneath these Flowers; — prepar'd to sting.— But what concerning th' Articles — Does he intend —

There lyes the best and chiefest of my Embassie, — his Head grown sober now, and the hot Fumes of Drinking being abated, with a Look that pictur'd Gravity with Awker'd Grace:—He bid me thus express him: Tell his Excellence, Don Roderick Pons de Leon, Duke of Arcos, Viceroy of Naples under great King Philip, that I the General of the Neapolitans — Tomas — but vulgarly call'd Massainello, after my shame for late Miscarriages, which my Intem­perance urg'd, do beg his Pardon,—and will, as I late gave my word, to morrow, meet him in the Cathedral, there to Seal the Articles of Infranchisement o'th' People from Gabels, and all heavy Impositions pursuant to Great Charles the Emperor's Charter; and that it may last in perpetual memory, a splendid Monument shall be erected, with an Inscription writ in Golden Characters, This won­drous A [...]tion famous to Posterity.

B [...]est Turn of Fortune! now the Air clears agen, — and th' Sun begins to clear our droop [...]ng Plants by Sorrow numb'd and blasted.— But will this Humour hold?

Most certainly,— his Orders are given out— Then you my Lord

he spoke of next with mighty Re­verence; he stil'd you—wise, his good and Graci­ous [Page 6] Father: And tho' he knew your Eminence's Charity so great, you would Absolve him; yet his fhame would hardly let him beg it.

This is wonderful! — But owing all to my Good Lord Cardinal's management, whose Sacred Wit, and Influencing Rea­sons, with a Seraphick power of Spiritual Vertue, have charm'd a human Soul into this Clod, and made him melt before the Beams of Piety.

My Lords, my Heart is full of Joy to find kind Heaven at last has blest my happy Labour,—with such fair hopes of a full Crop hereafter; — and now I hold it an especial action that th [...] Vice-Queen be instantly inform'd of this great Act of Providence; 'twill calm her. —

It shall be so, I'll instantly go to her, and then prepare for the Great Deed to Morrow: — And since the Change of Empire and of States are done by Heaven's Immutable Decree, and hu­man Power opposes it in vain;

SCENE II.

Who's there, La Poop? — Where are ye?

A vot Service, Madam—vill you please to be dressé?

No, no, wait a little longer — this is but my first Pot of Chocolate, I have drank but [...]ix of my Ten Dishes yet.

Ah bless your Ladiship — you have de ver leetell Sto­mach—you soop, soop, soop—de pauvre quantity de Chocolate in de Morning, but you Eat noting all de day long, besides dat is con­siderable. Ma foy you vill never put your shape in de fashion, if you piddle, piddle — at dis rate.

Shape! — Odsfish, I Cram my self so every day, that I'm ready to break my Stayes — I can't tell — what thou wouldst have me do more to make my shape fashionable.

Ah Madam, de down-right Trute of de ting is you must wear no Stay at all: — 'Tis below de Womans of Qualitee,— I mean dat is marry — to pinsh — de Hip or de Belly. — See dat be no marry, expect de Husband must pinsh a leetle,—and reason good.— [Page 7] But de Wife must let all ting be looses,—and shew full, plump,— wid shild, or widout shild, dat is all one, plump, plump, 'tis de ver graceful fashion mafoy.

Plump,—nay, if I am taken for one of the Lean ones, the Looker on sees double, and the Devil made the Spectacles; I'm sure I han't felt any Ribs I have this Ten years: And I weigh,

let me see I weigh just three and fifty Stone, and two Pound.

Aw dat is noting —dere is one Relation of mine in France, dat is call Madamoselle La Poope, dat weigh tre hundred Stone: But see Madam here come de Lady your Sister,—and your new Gentleman Usher wid her, who come to Comb your Head; I hear he is born in England — but is bred in France, — or else he be no fit for your Service, Mafoy.

Oh Madam Ursula — how fares thy Ladiship's Body? Come Prithee sit thee down,—and take a dish of Chocolate, whilst I have my Head order'd, by my new Fellow here: the great La­dies I hear use Men for their Morning Service; and now our Con­dition is alter'd, we must follow the Mode: What we must do great things now.

'Tis a good handsome Black Fellow

, and perhaps has no stinking Breath.

Which is more than she can say for her self to my knowledge; I found that out by her whispering me just now.

Well Friend, and Prithee what is thy Name, I have, I think, never ask'd thee that yet, did I?

Humh —not above forty times, Madam; but 'tis natural for Great [...]adies to forget.

Ay, 'tis so.—

What Essence will your Ladiship use to day, Iessamine, Tubarose, or Amber?

The dearest, the dearest always:— But as I was saying, Humh — Prithee what was't, I ask'd thee just now: Ha?

Oh very well, Madam, that looks mighty great indeed; why you ask'd me my Name, and you must know, Madam, that in England I was Christned, Dick Pimpwell, — but am Dignified since I came hither with the Title of Signiour Ricardo. I'm of a Family, Ma­dam, that carried no ordinary Reputation there, if you ever knew any thing of the English Court, you must have heard of the Pimp­wells I'm sure.

Yes, yes, we hear frequently both of your Courtiers and Citizens too, and sometimes have great diversion with 'em.

In History, I suppose Madam.

No, but in Ballads,—and I think that's the better way by much.

'Gad she's in the right, for the Histories of our former Kings and Nobles are better done in Ballads, than in any Chronicle I ever saw yet there.

Well, and — dost hear me,—What humour are your young Town-fellows of, how do they wear the day out to divert them­selves?

Why in the Morning they cherish two of their Senses, Madam, Seeing and Smelling: Seeing by the Court they make to a great Looking-Glass; Smelling by Covering themselves from Head to Foot with sweet Powder; and then at Night they Indulge the other three, — Hearing with the Noise of Fiddles; and Tast­ing and Feeling with a Whore and a Bottle.

A good merry sort of a Scoundrel, this — I warrant this Fellow has been a Player there, or some such thing: — Well, but I hear they have the name of Rakehells amongst 'em, and are so hor­ribly given to scandal, that they'l abuse all Woman-kind, as well those they have to do with, as those they have not; and rather then not have the pleasure of Tatling, by their Good will they'l say any thing.—

Ah—there I must beg your Pardon, Madam, I can name you one thing that by their Good-will they never say.

What's that, Prithee?

Their — Prayers, Madam.

No — why I thought they were most horrible Sticklers for Religion.

Right, Madam,— they are horrible ones indeed, and 'tis as natural to 'em as to Slaves in the Mines to Dig their Ore; and like that too is generally manag'd, — for he that toils and labours most about it Ten to one knows the least of the matter.

And, Ha, ha, ha, well— as to Generation, and that sort of diversion, what are—they are very prone to Coupling, at what Age do they Marry?

Why the Males never by their Good-will,—but as to the Females, by their Good-will, as soon as they can speak.

Ha, ha, ha, ye Rascal, well, and as to your State-af­fairs, we hear there are great feuds amongst ye as well as here; tho' the King has done great things for 'em, and they say—is a very brave Man.

Ay, he is so, Madam, — but you must know that we En­glish have some Affinity with the nature of some Dogs we have there, We never receive a good Bone but we snap at our Benefa­ctor's Fingers.

Ha, ha, why Sister — this is an Arch Rogue, this Fellow has more about him than we see.

Ah, a great deal more, I assure ye, Madam, — your La­diship shall find I have notable Parts upon occasion.

Ha, ha, ha, why Sirrah, you'r an Arch Rogue indeed, as she says

: But dost hear; My Fellow, La Poop, told me thou hast been in France too: What didst learn there, Prithee, ha?

Aw, Madam, there I learnt the most material things in the whole World, which are, to tye a Muff on with an Air, and to make a huge Back-Perruke for a great Lord, that shall reach down to his Hams: But above all to use like a Gentleman the Comb and the Puff, in the Lady's Service; as thus, now Madam thus, thus

: This Powder has such vertue, that it will take away all the Freckles—and make the Face as Beautiful at Fourscore as at Five and twenty.

Odsfish it has a notable scent with it indeed.

And will it take away Freckles, say'st thou? Well, I'm re­solv'd to try the Experiment then to Morrow. — I'le be Pufft all over, for I've a world of 'em about me.

Wert thou ever in Holland?

Yes, Madam, just long enough to spoil my Stomach.

Why don't they dress Meat well?

Yes, if you can allow the General Sawce, for there is but one sort there.

And what's that, Prithee?

Butter, Butter, Madam, — if you have a cold Jowle of Salmon, and not a Dish of Melted Butter with it, you affront the Constitution of the Country.

But of what Humours are they, Prithee?

Why they are greater Lovers of good Bargains than good Breeding; they sight well when there's occasion; and drink largely whether there is or no:— In fine, they are the best Skeyters in a great Frost, but the worst Dancing Masters in Christendom.

Come, Hey where's my Sister Blowze? Oh are ye here! My Brother the General wants ye to give Orders for the Ceremony [Page 10] to Morrow at the Signing the Articles: Your Massainello has carried it now I'faith; he's at the Top, and we'l keep him there in spite of his Scruples of Conscience; he would have you likewise invite the Vice-Queen and her Ladies to a Musick-feast. A Ball I think they call it.—'Tis the Mode amongst Great People.—Come, come a­way, and you shall know more.

Odsfish, Brother—but my Hair is not done up, you see, nor my Face quite Patch'd, is it?

No, Madam, not half: Besides, — here's two delicate ones,—that will take a great deal of time to place wel [...]; I brought 'em from France, and call 'em Venus and Adonis:—The one is for the upper Lip, and t'other for the under, and the witty fancy to have 'em there is—that they may be perpetually kissing one an­other.

Well, well, ye witty Rogue, let 'em kiss one another in the next Room then — for I must go to my Husband Massainello. — But d'ee hear, Sirrah, I'll prefer ye.— Stick to me close; d'ee hear?

Zooks, Madam, but here's my Cupid, this must sit Enthro­ned upon your Ladiship's Nose, or I'm undone.

Ha, ha, ha, — Well, Odsfish I like this Fellow strangely, Well Sirrah, — sti [...]k close to me, and I'll do your business; d'ee hear, — Hah! times are not as they have been: What, we must do Great Things now!

SCENE II.

Ricardo.

Madam.

Did you bid the Wench take Care that she provided Sugar and Cinamon enough for the Pancakes — and that she should fry 'em in Oyl instead of Butter?

Yes Madam, and that it should be the Sugar of Eight-pence the Pound, that your Ladyship reserves for high Holy-days, and the best Company.

'Tis well Ricky, 'tis very well done: Mind your Business de'e hear and stick close to me, and I'le speak to my Husband to get ye the Government you spoke to me about, — Well, and did you order the Legg of Pork and Potato's to be sent her Highnesses Gen­tlemen, for a second Course?

Yes Madam, and that the Ten-shilling Beer should be Tap'd for 'em and given about in Sack-glasses, that it might look the Genteeler.

That's well again, mighty well introth Ricky: — And are the Morris, Ropedancers and Tumblers all ready for the Ball, ha!

All, all, Madam, the Fidlers too, and the t'other Fellow says, he can Bate his Bulls and Bears, and if you please the Tiger at a Minute's warning.

Can he? Well, Odsfish I love that Sport at my Heart: Be­sides 'twill draw all the Great States-Men here, —they'l neglect the carrying on their great Cause to Day, to see that I'me sure, — but harken, a word in thy Ear.

Was there ever such a Supper! The very sight of that huge Conger-Eel there makes me sick.

'Tis Alamode de Fish-wife, Madam, — Ha, ha, ha, your Highness sees she treats in her own fashion.

The Musical Entertainment, I warrant will be a Curiosity.

Methinks her Gentleman Usher there, who is so familiar with her, should lead her up a Dance.

Now will I whisper with this young Fellow to try if I can make the Prince Jealous, — for I'm told, nothing increases Love like Jealousie.— Well Ricky, and as to this Government thou wert speaking of,—must I speak for thee, hast a mind to be a Don, Ricky?

Yes, indeed Madam, to speak the Truth, I've had a huge mind to be a Don—a great while.

Well, say no more, thou shalt be a Don—the General shall do it out of hand:— What, there must be a Patent for't I sup­pose, and thou know'st his way of doing that.

Yes, Madam, a Tweak by the Ear, it seems, is his Order of Counsel, and a Kick o'th' Breech, his way of passing a Patent.

Right, thou hast it, —therefore stick close to me, d'ee hear, and it shall be done out of hand, — I'll have thee kick'd on the first opportunity.

Ah thank your good Ladiship. — A Don, Oh how I'll strutt!

My Hostess's mannerly way of leaving the Company all this while, is somewhat Novel too, Madam.

She designs to treat us with Variety; Oh now we shall have her agen.

So —does your Highness eat; Odsfish you have a very Pidling Stomack — why that Codshead will be cold there, — Ah you'd have done b [...]tter by half, Madam, if you had taken a Whett as I did before hand.

A Whett, what's that I beseech ye?

Why a good Brimmer of sharpning Liquor to prepare your Stomach, — and by your Eating so little I find yours to be very cold,—Will your Highness accept of a Beer-glass of Nan [...]s?

Nants,—well I am horrible unskill'd in this new Dialect [Page 18] of yours, and so ignorant that I must desire to know what that is too.

Odsfish — not know what Nants is — a Lady of your Breeding, and ignorant of heavenly Brandy! Odsfish then Mira­cles are not ceas'd.

Ah, this is not a Lady of your strain, Madam, this is the Vice-Queen.

Why if she were an Empress, my Lord, she might know and tast a Cup of good Nants, I hope, and her Title shrink ne'er a Jot the more in the wetting, neither, — But come let's turn the Discourse to hear the Musick, and see the Ball, your Highness shall see how you like our way. — Come begin there.

Well, what thinks your Highness, is not this Novel as you call it?

'Tis so Extraordinary that I want words to praise it, and therefore intend to retire and make that the Product of a second thought: Come, my Lord.

Had the Times been setled, I could have laugh'd at the Ex­travagance of it well enough.

And — I —'tis well enough to see once.

Lights—there — for her Highness. — The General speak with me in the Morning, say'st thou; Well, tell him I'll come. — Now Ricky, stick close to me, thou shalt go too:

SCEN. I.

MY Wife so angry, say'st thou?

Angry, Oh that ever I was born,— Why d'ee think, Sir, she can be pleas'd? You may Metamorphose me i [...]to w [...]t [Page 21] shape you think fit, you may flea me as you do one of your Eels,— and then ins [...]ad of the Robe of a Lord, put the Shell of a Lobster upon me — as your Fishiness shall see good to determine, — but to th [...]nk that the high spirited Blowzabella, — will shrink from a Crab to a Craw-fish, and leave a silken Gown with a Gold Galloon for a Grogram Jacket with a Copper Edging, is but vain Imaginati­on — I can tell ye but that, Sir.

My Brother then I hear too grumbles at it, — But when I give my reasons, I don't doubt. —

Oh bless me! Reasons!—Reasons to lay by a Noble Ha­bit which made ye fit to accompany Kings and Princes —and put on a damn'd dirty Doublet here, — which makes you and my self too, wo be the time, look as if we were fit for nothing but a Dog-Kennel.— Zooks do but look upon your self a little, Sir,— do but view your Person round — Ods Sammon and Eels, and Thornback!— Is this the Mighty Man, I saw yesterday — Is this Massain [...]llo?

Well, well, this Deed will settle my Renown for ever, and I have consulted my Reason about it.

Reason agen, — Reason, to lay by a Glittering Sword that made ye look like a General, to take up a confounded Switch the [...]e to make just the figure of a sneaking Gudgeon-catcher in a Lands-chap, to leave the Command of all th' Coffers in Naple's Gold, Silver, Jewels, and th' Devils and all — to plunder a little tyny dribling Brook for a few Roches and Dace — Gads-diggers if this be Reason! —

Well, well, no more of your Disputes, Sir.

Mum — I ha' done — but there's his Brother, and some of his Mettled Comerades drinking in the n [...]xt room, that will tell him a piece of their minds presently. — Oh here he comes, and the hot-headed Cosmo with him — if they can get but to [...]luster him with a Brimmer or two, as they have prepared it, — the Cause is our own still.—

So Brother▪ — still with your sluttering Trinkets on? What you dislike my resolution of laying down I hear.

And reason good, — what Spirit of sloth has seiz'd on ye the sudden, to ruin your self and us, and all [...]ur hopes?

'Tis that Priest's doings, th [...]t same long tongu'd Cardinal, that Reverend Hypocrite, has debauched the General.

Cousin, you have a Priviledge, else I [...]us [...] tell ye, I should not bear this Language.

Not from a Friend whose Heart as well [...] acts but [...]o serve ye, — Come, come, you must, [...] [Page 22] ye, you are impos'd upon, flatter'd, betray'd, the Cardinal with Inveterate Mataloni,— and old Caivano — brood in hourly Counsels how to destroy ye.

Ha, that agen.—

He says the Cardinal with your Enemies Plot to destroy ye, which, they'r to execute that very hour you cease Command; there's one revolted from 'em within, that was their Servant, who ha [...] confess'd it all; besides, you might note if you remem­ber well, at our last meeting some weighty thing hung on 'em, — by their rough looks, and surly answers — to ye.

They were indeed more dogged than was usual.

'Twas from their hopes to snap ye unguarded and unfriend­ed, and if you will deliver up your Throat. —

No, Cousin, not so neither.

If you will from the Commander of all Naples—Its power too in your hands,—accept their Charity, and stand to th [...] cour­tesie of Mataloni.

Your known vow'd Enemy—who burns with Expectation of your disbanding, that he then may cope ye,—when I your faithful Kinsman and your Friend—can baulk his Plots, and put it in your power so to revenge your self— you have forgot the Dut­chess.

Forgot her, the Taper was newly extinct indeed, but yet thy Breath revives it.

This is my Province, now I'll put in a word: The Dut­chess, Sir, sweet as a full blown Rose in Summer Mornings,— e'er gentle Breezes had blown off the Pearls, the Dew had sprink­led on it; then a Skin, smooth, soft, and whiter than the Purest Ermine, and such a shape so charming and provoking—'twould make a God of him that did enjoy her.

Prithee no more, she's gone.

Gone, no, Sir, not from my reach— I know her haunts, and how to snap her hourly; nay the whole Covey of them, I've mark'd my Game, and they are mine at will.—

Such a revenge now on Mataloni's Treachery were worth the General's notice.—

Oh how my Blood boyls with Revenge and Love.

Give me your hand, — and now believe I honour ye, — I know you love the Dutchess too, and ye shall have her, — revoke your Orders for laying down Arms till things are setled more,— and if within this hour I bring ye not the Dutchess, and her Neice to Court your favour, — hold me a Rogue and Lyer. —

Thou amazest me!

Oh here's the Female Teizer▪ Come, now 'twill work rarely.

D'ee hear, you French Kickshaw, Diable La Poope, don't tell me of his Order, to have me strip'd; but carry back those dirty things agen, or my Fist shall pound thee into Powder,—What Maggot's in your Head now, in the name of Beelzebub, to dub me to be a Lady, and think to undub me agen at a Minutes warning? Oh I could cry my Eyes out to think

, to think

, that ever I should have a Husband that should be such a Fool! — Huswife, away with the Rags, I say, or I will so Mawl your French Carcass.

Hey day! wa [...] a Deevil is de matra! He commande one ting, and see commande on oder ting! — de Deevil take dem bo [...]h.

Here comes another of the Litter, the Kennel is rouzed rarely.

Why sure this News is not true that I hear: Odslidikins, what do I see, what is he got into his sneaking, louzy, nasty Fisher­man's Garb agen!— Why Brother,— Brother, odd I'm a­sham'd to call him so now, hearkee, do you ever think. —

Sir, can you ever think.

Buz — I shall be worried.

Come, come, no more Spouse, he will consider.

Come, Cousin, pray step in with us and take a Glass or two, amongst some Friends of ours there, you will find the Servant of the Dukes, hear but his Story, no doubt you will be satisfied.

Well, I will hear him, but sure it can't be true.

As true as you shall have the Dutchess here her self with­in this hour perhaps — the Duke too—will you believe me then?

Oh Iove for her I'de do or believe any thing.

So he's wrought rarely, — three or four full Brimmers, I know will fluster him, so he'l quickly forget all his past Promises: But will this Fellow that we have hir [...]d, stand fast and swear with­out a Blush?

A Blush! Prithee, he was bred a Lawyer, he knows not what it is: Go, go, away to the Company,—and be sure you drink him to a pitch; this is my time to make a Rape on the others. — Hah — from this Window I can see the Garden, where eve­ry day they take their Evenings Walks,—and see by Heaven they'r yonder, the Vice-Queen too,—this is a Prize indeed, and I that al­ways lov'd with Ambition, will push my Fortune now, —Are the Soldiers ready?

All Arm'd at the Castle-Gate.

Farewell, — wish me good Luck then.

That I will for my own sake,— how have I fir'd this wild hot-headed Fool, to [...]eize the Vice-Queen, and bring me her Neice,—that [...]weet and tender Bud of Blooming Beauty,

SCENE II.

This Pleasant Walk so near the Rebels Garrison; curse on the Coward Fates, we durst not use, till late, the Truce was made, which when I think on, tho' the Place be happy, and the Sweets of Nature abound here in their Pride, Clear Fountains, Flowers of Excellent Natures in Arbors twin'd, and Sun de [...]ying Coverts, tho' all that can delight the sense dwell here, yet that disgrace makes it ungrateful to me.

The Ills of Fate, Madam, are no Disgraces, but tryals of the virtue of Great Souls; had sam'd Aurelia ne'er oppos'd the Darts of Trayterous Fortune, her Renown had lessen'd,

Great Souls that so are try'd, ought to get Fame, for sure they feel Fate's worst Serenity; for what can be more sharp than for Nobility — untainted Honour, and unconquer'd Courage, to stoop perforce to gross Plebeian humour, and yield to their Com­mands whom they despise?

That would I never do whilst I had life, no with these Hands I would tear out this Tongue, rather than let it give a vi [...]e Consent to what my Honour told me was Ignoble, or should my Eyes give a relenting Glance, and seem by base fear to betray my Vertue, fir'd with just Anger I should root 'em thence, and cast the false Misguiders on the [...]loor.

Did my Lord tell you he would meet us here?

Madam, he did, as soon as the Affairs were finished at the Council: They expect this Evening a Resignation under Hand and Seal, of Massainello's Power, and a [...]ull Order for the Disbanding of the Rabble.

I fear he trusts too much, would he were come. In the mean tim [...], my dear Fellicia, let's see that Sarabrand I love so well.

What Friends are you that in the time of Truce dare vio­late th' late Order by this Outrage?

Such, Sir, as have so little sense of Order, that we are ne­ver pleas'd more than to break it. — Come my young Rose you must prepare for th' Limbeck.

And you Majestick Beauty — for a Love so mingled with Ambition, your own Soul has not a greater sense on't.

What mean the Villains—Oh—that a Thunderbolt. —

Oh, tho' you kill me, do not hurt my Father,—he's old and weak, pray pull him not so hard.

For your sake, pretty one, we'l use him Civilly. — Come, come, Old Sir, there's no resisting.

Not one Blow to revenge me!

Bear off the Ladies down to the Felluca, and bid the Rowers bring it to the Shore.

Away ye Slaves, off ye vile Clods of Earth: Hah, dare ye touch me? Then Aid ye Powers above,—send down your darting [...]lames ye Elements, blast these vile Wretches with your quickest fires:

The E [...]choing sound that wasted through the Trees to me seem'd like the Cry of Women.

I could not hear distinctly, but must [...]onder, the Ladie [...] are not here,—this is the place.

Oh my Lord, I have the saddest News to te [...]l your High­ness, that ever Tongue yet utter'd: —The Vice-Queen and the Ladies, accompanied with the Dukes Mataloni and Caiv [...]o, as they were walking here to take the Air, were seiz'd on by a Rout of Ruffians; and notwithstanding all Resistance, and the Cries the La­dies made, no Guards o [...] yours being ne'er, are [...]or [...]'d away by Water.

Didst thou know any of 'em?

Not by their Faces: But know they came from the Mobb-General's Quarter, — their Number, Looks, and Actions so frighted me, I crept into a Bush to hide me from 'em.

Ye Powers that Govern Human Fates below—end my curst days, this is too much to bear.

I have not words enough to comfort him, my Reason's at a loss with this distress, and all Philosophy would work in vain.

Are all the Stars our foes! Oh cruel Fate, are all thy Darts devoted to Rebellion!—And thou the Genius of the wrong'd No­bility, that for a Series of Revolving years, didst Guard the Honour of our Ancestors,—where art thou now! Oh why dost thou de­sert us?

But above all, the Guardian of our Naples,—Divine Genaro, our August Protector,—from thy bright Palace built on Plains of Light, accompany'd with dazling Seraphims, and Heaven-born Angels, who sing Hymns of Joy in Visionary Dreams, to sleeping Mortals, with Mediating Grace, gain Mercy for us, and turn these dire Afflictions into Comfort.

Blest Apparition, saw ye ought, my Lord?

Most certainly, through opening Clouds appear'd the Glo­rious [Page 27] Saint with Visage full of Joy,—as a blest Omen of our fu­ture comfort; methought the Spheres too joyn'd in Sacred Har­mony, and a Coelestial Voice with Charming power, piercing my Ears, made all my Senses happy. — A Sword drawn too!

There was, I saw it clearly, —which seems to instruct us to use ours once more, and trust no longer to the fluttering humour, the vain Proposals, or unminded Promises of this vile whimsical and perjur'd Rebel.

It must be so, therefore proceed, my Lord.—And with unwearied Zeal I still will serve ye,—for since this last, this Bru­tal violence too well assures us of his Breach of Vows, and that the Witchcraft of his dazling Power, too far Inchants him to lay down in quiet: Let us resolve to make a Push for all;—I lately sought, 'tis true, to reconcile,—th' unnatural Jars, believing what was done by this bold Fellow was to Ease the People,—who were op­prest; and that he would disband, as he once swore—when that was done; but now this Villany has op'd my Eyes to see,—'tis a Rebellious Itch to quell the Nobles, and set up his base Ignomini­ous self, as Viceroy, and turn us to a hated Commonwealth.

'Tis so, my Lord, 'tis plain, that's his Ambition.

It shall be crush'd—like his vile self to earth, never to rise agen;—Now you shall see the different Fate between th'Inspir'd Nobles, and the Grovelling Vulgar, and the base mettle of this new Coyn'd upstart, the Guilding worn away of his Hypocrisie: Arm then my Lord, and so let all the Court, who with this Vision of the blest Gennaro, and my own Reasons, I'll so Influence, Honour in Naples shall exert its Grandeur, and th' Rabble once more know their Slavish distance.

Oh how thy Sacred Words inflame my Courage, thou pre­cious Gem, amongst a Crowd of Pebbles, best of thy Function, let me but revenge. —

Revenge, why that shall be the dear twin-word;—Joyn'd with fair Justice, to begin the work;—be but your Highness pa­tient, and bear your Losses, as becomes your Place, let my Prophe­tick Brain give you this Comfort:

SCENE III.

Now, Brother, you shew like your self.

Shew▪—Oh happy hour,—shew, S'bud he looks like Alexander the Great,—I mean like Pompey,—I mean like Iulius Cae­sar,—I mean like Hannibal,—I mean, I mean, like himself,— and that's a thousand times better than any of 'em;—Oh rare, rare Sight! 'od I could even hang my self for Joy.

I'll teach 'em how to Plot: Give me my Hat and Feather.

There, there, my Lord, there's the purest Pulvillio in't, and the most exquisite Essence of Amber,—'twill make the Women follow ye in Shoals.

And this shall make the Mataloni Faction,—and th' Caiva­no's shake

, whilst all the rest of th' Court study new ways of Poor Submissions.

Oh thou bright Raiser of my Towring Glory, thou hast been wanting to my hand too long; thou that wert wont to hew my way to Greatness, and through opposing Crowds, make Lanes before me, how shall I make amends, and flesh thee first?

Two Kinsmen to the Viceroy were this Morning taken dispersing Libels, —and Encouraging the Spaniards to a Mutiny.

Let 'em be brought this Evening to the Market-place, and there on them I'll try the Temper of my Weapon,—and take their Heads off with this Blade my self.

It shall be done, my Lord: —Odzookers, he has it, now the Medaera works.

How now, what's this!—what my dear Cosmo!—So soon return'd!—

Well, what success, my brave Adventurer?

What I could wi [...]h: I have 'em all in th' Net, Sir, the Dukes, the Ladies, and the haughty Vice-Queen to boot; and now I hope you'l think your Kinsman loves ye:—You may seize the Dutches, now Sir, she's your Quary.

Thou Soul of my Contentment, best of Kinsmen

: Oh how I burn within me,—my Brain-pan Glows, and my Heart's all on fire.—Hot, Soultry, soultry.

And we'l take care to keep ye so.—The Wine has play'd its part, I see.

There never was any good to be done with drinking Small-beer,—but now you see strong stout Medaera can do Wonders:— Odshertslikins t'has turn'd him inside out, and made quite another Man of him.

Come, Cousin, shall we not see your Prize?

Bring in the Prisoners there.

You may remember, when I met you last, I shew'd some taste of Courtesie,—now proud Dons—should you both Grovel at my Feet, and beg for't, I would with scorn refuse and spurn ye from me.

Spurn your Companions, base and perjur'd Monster.-

Thy sordid Villany can't touch our Souls,—those are a­bove an abject Rebel's reach.

Abject, thou wretched Piece of fluttering Folly, thou gay Court-Butterfly, that I can squeeze to nothing with my Fingers; thou art abject, for what is that but to be still subservient to a Su­periour Power, Slave to the Will of him that Commands, and such art thou to me.

No, thou art Slave to me, for I contemn thee;—my Soul disdains to breath its Vital Air, where thy Infection comes, and scorns to answer, or change a word more, to save my Life.

Be sullen then, I'll Parly with your—Wife, Sir, —Madam, your Husband's Choler as 'tis vain, so 'tis

ridiculous; but you, I hope, know how to reconcile;

I have few words, but you may Guess my meaning.

'Tho I had rather die, yet for some Reasons I must permit him.

Furies and Fire, must I live and see this!

She stands so coldly, and not spit in's Face.

Oh, Madam, I have heard of your Great Spirit,—and mean to Conjure it. A word with you anon. For th' present, Duke, know you may thank your Lady, for what no Power on Earth but this her Courtesie—could e'er have gain'd, which is a License from me—to take your Leave of her.—Go, Captain, bear 'em both to Prison, and when I send this Ring—bring me the Lady.

'Tis done, my Lord.

Ay, ay, 'tis done, my Lord,—any thing in the world, Egad, now things go so rarely.

Let that Old Signiour be confin'd particularly:—I hear he's good at Plotting.

Ah let me go with my Father, I beseech ye:—Look in my Face, believe I am no Plotter,—I know not what is wrong, much less can do it.

So much the better, you can do something else that is as sitting for ye, you are my Charge,—you sha'not want your Father.

Ah happy Miss, the Major will take a great deal of Care of ye, therefore dont—be a Child, don't cry, the Major will take a huge deal of Care of ye.

Oh Father, Aunt, Oh Heaven help, help, help.

This Blow must reach my heart; Fate thou hast done thy worst.

Come, come, old Gentleman, I'll see you fast enough,— now will there come fifty Duckets at least for a good Lodging; rare, rare times, rare.

Death and Confusion! Can the Sun yet shine,—such Villa­nies as these, methinks, should darken it, blot out all Nature, and return—old Chaos—into its Primitive nothing.—Oh may all Curses.—

Curse on, curse on, a Woman when she Curses, makes still a Blessing follow.

Why am I left, thou Devil?

For the Devil!—for I intend [...]hou shalt Blaspheme so much that he shall fetch thee Headlong.

What! and thou stand by, thy Goary Paws reeking in Blood of Nobles. Is there a Morsel through all the Shambles of Dam'd Reprobates, so proper for his Diet as thy self, thou that from In­fancy wert Hell's half-blood, and since still Train'd 'amongst the In­fernal Brood?

But thus to play the Dilatory Fiend, to Teaze me all this while with thy curst Figure, and not bring forth the Rack, the Wheel, the Torture, Poyson or Sword, to ease me from thy self, the worst and most infective Plague of all, is the curst Quintessence of Cruelty, [...]nd I grow Mad with my Despair.

'Tis reasonab [...]e; I am Mad too, and so are all my People; the Times are Mad, we should be in the fashion: But now I think on't, I wi [...]l ask a Question, and if your Rage can stop, answer me: Were I your Prisoner as you now are mine, How would you use me?

I must answer, calmly.

As your fierce Nature will permit.

Thus then, as calmly as the Seas wild Sur­ges

Roar, when Stormy Winds oppose 'em, I would kill thee: To ask a Woman choaking for Revenge, how she would use h [...]r most Inveterate Enemy!—Impertinent Fool, why I would kill thy Soul, if I could reach it too; but for thy Body, it should be [Page 31] burnt with Pincers, thy Heart cut out, and after torn in Pieces with Wild Horses, till there was not the bigness of a Finger to shew the Pattern of a Horrid Villain:

There's calmly for ye.—Now what's my Doom?

Your Liberty:—What neither Fawning, Prayers nor Tears could purchase; this frank Confession has obtain'd,—y'are free; Conduct her through the Guards to th' Viceroy's Castle,— I do't to shew ye, I fear Threats so little, that I dare all your Pow­er to defeat me; and now resolve I will maintain my own, because I think it becomes me.

So, Sir,—and tho' I have my Life on these conditions, yet I will take it to contrive thy Ruin; which like a Sybil I do Prophe­sie shall be perform'd as late I [...]ention'd it.

SCEN. I.

ONE Minute more, and then the Fatal Message Tolls our sad Separation. Sure two Hearts fast joyn'd by Love, and fram'd for one another, ne'er felt a weighty violence like ours. In­difference gains its point and has its ease; the Days and Nights are worn away in Pleasures; but to be passionate in Love is deadly; Dire Fate resolves, grown envious of our Bliss, to rob us of the Pa­radise of each other.

Yet this were nothing could we die together; could our winged Spirits like two friendly Turtles fly to the Mansions of the Blest above, and there together coo our Mutual Love:—Who would not leave this Tottering Tenement, this Hovel Life with Joy,—to change so Richly?

Nay, we must die together, my dear Lord; our Lives are one, and when yours ceases Action, you may assure your self mine is no more.

But I alas! am doom'd to Death more cruel than what Tor­menters give the common way, to leave thee here to bear their Bar­barous Usage; leave the dear Beauty which once blest my Life with Raptures of true Pleasure, to be sullied, Grasp'd and prophan'd by [Page 32] Insolent Brutality; and tho' I know thy Vertue ne'er will yield, 'tis double death to think on thy distress.

Yield, no, no, I hope my Dearest is confirm'd in that; nor had I suffer'd late that nauseous Rebel to touch my Hand, but for your sake, my Lord: I knew my Face had charm'd his Brutal Soul, and that by soft'ning his Barbarity, I could get means thus to enjoy your Company, which else had been impossible.

I know it, and thank thee for this Blessing

it procur'd me: Besides, I've had more favour from the Monster;—a Servant of my own allotted me to do my pr [...] ­vate business, and such a business;—I've employ'd him in, Oh Belleraiza!

Speak out, my Lord; in Belleraiza's Bosom all Secrets are secure.

Canst thou endure the odious Infamy, that I should turn base Pander?

I hate a Pander.

That, that's the meaning of this Upstart's kindness, belie­ving I'll promote his Bestial Love to my dear Belleraiza.

Horrid Wretch! curs'd Hell-hound!

Now if I find the means, though't be by death to free us both from this Extream of Misery', will my sweet Love consent?

With better will, than ever miserable condemn'd Captive, accepted freedom.

I have, my Lord,—tho' with some little hazard of my Life, being search'd by the Out-guards,—but naming the Dutchess, they discharg'd me presently,—and there's the effects of your Com­mands.

'Tis well done,—withdraw a while:—

See here my Love, this was the business meant, to buy this Dagger: Canst thou not guess the use on't?

I do, and thus make bare my Breast to meet it; let that dear hand but strike, I shall find [...]eaven before my Soul be ready.

It must be so, [...]o leave thee here with Ruffians,—will to Eternity disturb my rest,—for I must die thou know'st; then if thou lov'st me, thou'lt love this kind tho' cruel Resolution, first to kill thee, and afterwards my self.

I do, and on thy Lips bless thee for ever.

Oh my Soul's happiness!

My Heart's so full of hopes t' enjoy A [...]relia, and sat my strong desires with Princely Beauty, that I am tardy in my O [...]fice [Page 33] to bring the Dutchess to the General. Here is his Ring, by which his Pleasure's known in all Affairs in Love as well as Power, —this is the fatal Circle that must part the Married Lovers,—and yonder see they are,

We are disturb'd; see yonder Glares the Meteor —that now portends our Ruin.

One moment longer, and we had both been happy.

Madam, you know my Messag [...] by this Ring,—the Gene­ral expects ye, pray make hast, for I have Business of my own so urgent, I can wait no delays.

Men in great Places must be full of Business; am not I sent for?

No, no, my Lord, you are fixt in the wrong Station, the Wheel is turn'd, you are not now at Court.

And yet my Wife's sent for to Privy Councel! What, what is her Business there?

Why, with plain dealing, if you needs must know, her Bu­siness there is to make you a Cuckold.

I have a Message first to send.

What's that?

You, to the Devil, Sir.

Oh I am Damn'd.

Start not, my Love, nor let thy Cheeks grow pale, but adore Providence for this happy Accident, that marks us out instead of Fate our Freedom;—here is the Ring that guides us through the Labyrinth, by whose Despotick Power we pass the Guards, and then instead of Death live ever happy.

Now I shall think there is a Joy for Love [...]s uncommon from the rest in sweet Elizium;

But first I must disguise me in his Habit: What, ho, Lorenzo!

What Service, my good Lord?

Drag in that Body, — and help me in a Business that i [...] necessary.

With all my heart,— Oh are ye h [...]re Don Dogsface? Yo [...] were a Rogue in Office, I am glad y'are paid your wages.

Happy Success thus! may we always prove.

Blest be this day when Fortune favour'd Love.

SCENE II.

Come, come, no more Evasions, no more Woman's Tricks, I thought you were too young for 'em; but to the Point, will you Love me without more stir or Preambles?

Good, Sir, have pity on me.

Pity, why I have Love for thee, I tell thee,—that is, I think 'tis Love, I'm sure I've a mind to thee,—therefore no more of these dissembling Tears — but buckle too without more trouble: Come, will you comply, I say?

Alas, to what, Sir?

Humh—there's Woman-kind agen now, — they always love to hear it nam'd before they venture, — why to my will: — Come, come, you are not too young to understand the manner.

Indeed I am, Sir, Oh — pray don't look so cruelly upon me, I will do any thing I can to please ye, but for my Love, my good, my poor Old Father had it all, I ne'er Lov'd ought besides.

Nay look, if ye practise your Tricks upon me, I must be­gin the rough Game; I've no fine words, not I, mine is a down­right meaning, and with Love, or without, I must be satisfied that's in short.

How, Sir, which—way? Oh do not burn me with your fiery Eyes.

Agen — which way? Gad I must speak it broad,—she has an Itch to hear it on my Life.

I'll sing a Pretty Song to please ye, Sir, —'twas made upon a poor unhappy Maid, forc'd in a Wood by a rude Barbarous Russian, and Rob'd and Ravish'd, — I know not what that is, but she was sadly [...]s'd.

What has she made a Song upon her self before-hand?

Quaint and fine i'faith, what a pretty little warbling Pipe the Gipsie has — Oh — how I long to spoil it, — Come, come, my little Canary Bird, Musick is most proper at Meals, I must fall too now.

Oh some kind Angel now look down and save me: Oh but [Page 35] you ha'nt heard me sing a merry Song yet, I have of the Devil and a Fryer, how they were playing a Game at Cross Bunns, and how the Frier Cheated him.

Ha, ha, ha, —how the young Cockatrice —tickles me with her shrill Note,—But come prithee, now let me strike up my fit of mirth.

Y've ne'er a Fiddle, Sir.

Oh then I'll make use of yours.

Sweet, dear kind Sir,—A poor unhappy Girle! besides I'm ugly too.

Ye lye, ye Baggage, ye lye, y'are handsome enough in Conscience.

Oh that the Earth would swallow me.

Major where are ye?

Oh blessed sound!

Ah Plague of all delays,—'twas th' Captains voice sure, — Hah, he's coming,—go get ye in ye little Hypocrite, and prepare your self, d'ee hear, I'll be with ye presently. — Now Captain—What News—

News that distracts us all: The General's mad yonder, the Duke of Mataloni has kill'd Cosmo, and with the Ring freed both him­self and th' Dutchess,—he's coming hither with the Prince of Bissig­nano, but in so strange a humour.

All the better, get our Friends ready Captain, against he cools, to drink him up agen, and be sure contrive to keep him from sleep: I have a little Business now, but at night I'll second ye.

I'll not fail my part, he has not had a Nap this four days, nor shan't if Business can hinder.

Let twenty Cannons fire against the Castle: — Down with the Houses in Toledo-Street, I will not leave a Don a Hole to Nest in: And in Revenge of Mataloni's Subtlety, and Cosmo's Death, — Kill all ye take of them; Burn, Ravish, Plunder. —

This is stark Frenzy, Sir, for Honour's sake— think, e'er ye Act this Outrage;—Has the Duke done more than is natural? And since you have forgot and broke your Promise, in other things rela­ting to the State, had he been wise to trust you with his Wife?

Peace, Babling Fool, Hell take thee quick for naming her.

Then Life's my s [...]orn, I'll die this moment.

That thou shalt not neither:— Away with him then, give him Liberty, I'll take down his proud heart without consining.

And if it e'er forgives thee, curse me Heaven.

Thy Looks are cheerful, what good News?

Rare, rare, Sir, the Party you sent after the Duke and's Wife o'retook 'em, but he being disguised in Cosmo's habit, his Fact not known, was by the Guards—neglected, but she's forc'd from him and brought back to Prison.

Ah—had the half kind [...]ates—but caught him too, my wishes had been full:—But come, however I have his better par [...], and that shall serve to cool my fla [...]e a little: Come hither Friend; what, thou art but a Captain?

No more, my Lord.

Give me thy No [...]e, March out and be a Colonel.

I am your Lordship's ever.

Oh Power, methinks I feel thee still more Charming, and my Revenge on Mataloni s [...]ems,—now not so—hopeless:— Death, I never name him, but the word chills my Veins; An Omi­nou [...] Blast, methinks, shrivels my Nerves,—and makes my Blood clodd and grow cold as if the word were fatal,—Pish,—tis meer fancy, think on the Prisoner, she shall attone;—Now Hat [...] and Love are equal.

I hear he is in pretty good Humour now, and therefore will venture upon him:—Yonder's the Dutchess, my good Lord, —we have got her agen;—why what a perverse thing 'tis,— Odd your Lordship e'en us'd h [...]r too civilly; if you would have ta­ken my Advice, you shou [...]d have Pinnion'd her, Cramp'd her, bound [...]er to her Good Behaviour: A proud Minx to slight such an Honour.

Thou'rt in the right; how dost thou honest Fellow?

Ah—mighty well, and like your Honour▪ and especially [Page 37] when I see you smile and look cheerfully:—And I can tell ye something will make ye more merry,—we have set this Vagabond Duke too,—we'l have him if he be above Ground.

I ever found thee diligent:— What Paper hast tha [...] there?

Phugh, a Letter from my Good Lady to your Honour; she is pleas'd to over-value my small Parts and please ye. Now for my Governm [...]nt, — and Oh the Stars, Planets, Comets, Meteors, Fiery Flapdragons, and Will-o'th-Wisps stand by me now, or may ye ne­ver more furnish an Almanack.—

Ha, ha, — why Blowze speaks kindly of thee here.

Ah—Bless her good Honour—and forgive me one thing I had like to have forgot, my Lord,—I h [...]ar the People certainly design to vote your Honour—for Viceroy.—

D'e they, that's well, she writes in thy behalf here for the Government of Aversi,—'tis thine, there, there,

A Patent for thee, go and Govern.

Ah thank your good Lordship, from my Soul, and happy be the To [...] that kicks me to the Government, to which in State I go.

Thus like Immortal, Iove thus uncontrould, shall gr [...] Massainello act his Pleasure, whilst Trembling Nations stand amaz'd to view him. Is there a higher Spoke in Fortune's Wheel, th [...] where I stand?—No, but methinks with the Prodigious height [...] my Head grows dizzy. Stay, to morrow I'm a Viceroy, next a King▪ then wherefore shines that Sun so far above me; or how dares yonder Moon and Stars by Night pretend to Ape my Glo [...]y? Oh my hot Brain, is there a thing in Nature that is cold?—A re [...]l Substance that bears the name—of Ice? sure 'tis all Fiction, th [...] Globe's compos'd of Fire, the Element's all Flame; and mine's more fierce than all, and more consuming:

SCEN. III.

You have no Leisure now for Grief, my Lord, Revenge must [...]ill your Bosom, thoughts of that, — cha [...]m and possess your Senses, 'tis your D [...]eds and not your Sorrows now must do you Justice.

Oh let Fate once afford me but the means, but one, one, lucky minute, — I'll forgive all my past miseries.

Let us not despair,—the Pious Cardinal has made a Progress beyond our Expectation.

He's too old, too dull, and loses time in grave Advising: Our way should be some deep stroke at a heat, some Stratagem to sink 'em at a Blow, without depending on Consideration, some Mine to mount 'em up, some Gulph to drown 'em, or with a wish could we obtain the Lightning Coelestial, Blazes of Ethereal Fire; or Bribe the Thunder Rowling in the Clouds to break just o're their Heads, and mash 'em all; that were a joyful Sight.

But these are Things impossible.

Oh that my Power were half so active as my vigorous Will, — that this vast Weed, this monstrous spreading Mushrome, that insolently gave me Life and Freedom, both from his hands, so m [...]ch to my dishonour, might feel my Fury in its noble nature; at least that he might see my Glorious Anger, and my just detestation of my self, for being curst so far, so poorly fated to take 'em as his Courtesie.

'Tis still the nature of Mechanick Villains, to make by in­solent action an Affront,—what they design a Kindness: I war­ra [...]t he look'd stately.

Like the World's Emperour,— as if we all were clos'd up in a Bubble, which he could puff to nothing: Oh I am Mad, mad, and could tear my hated self to pieces; Curse my unhappy Stars, and make a Contract even with the Prince of the Infernal Mansi­ons, — so I might perfect my Revenge.

Calmer, calmer, you torment your self too much.

Oh talk not of Calmness, I've a Storm within me, and it must blow before the Rain will follow,—

— Hah, can I be so base, so meanly spirited to shed a Tear too, a foolish Drop, — 'tis gone,—and with it all my Womanly soft temper,—for when I think upon your Belleraiza, and the Distress of my dear, dear F [...]l­licia, — both now Confin'd amongst these worst of Devils,

I cannot blame her [...]or unbridled Passion: Because her grief is weighty; a sense of Honour too severely great, but you, my Lord, I fear, by her last words are struck afresh.

'Tis true, the name of Belleraiza shot me, shot me to th' Heart, but I have pull'd the Dart out, and will be whole agen,— What's to be done, my Lord?

Immediate Diligence to aggravate the People, whom the Cardinal,—who by his vertue always gain'd their Love, possesses now with Massainello's Madness, upon which Thousands have [...]ate [...]volted from him,—being daily abus'd, some ki [...]l [...]d, some wound­ed, [Page 39] as his Humour plea [...]es,—and on the least Incouragement we are told, will turn against him.

Oh that Joyful hour!

Here comes his Gracious Eminence.

And I think the Prince of Bissignano.

'Tis the same, his coming must produce something of mo­ment.

Health to your Highness.

Long and many years happy and flourishing.

This from you, my Lord, the General's Moderator, is some­what strange.

True, I was Moderator, but not Sycophant; but now be­lieve, my Lord, I am his Fate,—he's now stark Frantick, all his Actions shew it, worrys the Nobles that don't Bow and Cringe, and do him Rever [...]nce as he passes by, as a Wolf does a Flock of harm­less Sheep;—Kills, Tortures his own Friends, and plays the De­vil, even with those very Rogues that set him up.

And that those Crush him is most natural.

Besides, a Barbarous Action done last Night, too bad to be related—Innocent Fellicia your sweet Neice, my Lord, savagely Ravish'd by his Villain Brother; at which sad News her Father, Old Caivano,—being close Imprison'd too, since dy'd with Grief.

Accursed Dog, Oh, my thoughts murder me! Oh Belleraiza!

Nothing of her is Nois'd, hope well, my Lord.

And prudently let's manage: Has your Highness spread all those Papers round about the City, importing from the King a Ge­neral Pardon to all the People that lay down their Arms.

Most carefully,—and find it has the same Effects I wish, for Numbers have observed it, and Deserted.

Most c [...]rtainly they have,—on which occasion the Tyrant-Rebel, tho' he's always fluster'd, has yet a Pang of Fear, and keeps up close,—doubles even his Guards, and shews an Apprehension of what I hope will happen.

How shall I come to unkennel this Damn'd [...]ox, this Bloo­dy, this most Hellish—

Fortune; my Lord, shews ye the way, by me; it is my luck, for now I'll call it so, to have an Interest in his Night's Con [...]ident, his Blowzabella,—she, if she holds her Humour as 'twas lately,— will scarce deny me any ask'd for favour; nor will she balk at this, if I request it, to give me th' opportunity to see him privately.

It looks with a good face, proceed my Lord.

'Tis the easier to be done,—because the breach about th [...] Blow, the Villain lately gave me is suppos'd reconcil'd, which if [...] [Page 40] e' [...]e forgive, may this right hand refuse to do me reason: My Dri [...]t is unsuspected, and being done, when I have moulded her, you shall have notice.

Oh that the Wings of Time mov'd faster! Now I am impa­tient till the Minute comes.

Yet too much hast, my Lord, may ruin all: Let us meet once more here, and then consult about some methods to be us'd.

'Tis reasonable,—whilst I assist at the Cathedral, and there by subtl [...] means disperse more Papers, and fix the People in their hopes of Pardon.

Six Troops of Spanish Horse,—shall all be ready against the Signal's given for our meeting, which I could wish were suddenly.

To morrow, e're th' Rosie Guide has usher'd in the Sun; in the mean time let all be husht as Death,—'tis Freedom that's at stake, then let's be close and cautious.

SCEN. I.

LA Poop, Go tell the Ladies that are come to visit me, I suppose to beg something,—that I'll not be seen to day; tell I'm troubled with Vapours, and keep my Chamber.

I [...]all, Madam, I have alway one Lye ready for your Ladiship ven ever you have de occasion,—vor me know ver well de Lye be as proper vor de File de Chambre, as de old Gown of her Lady ven she leave off.

Well, my Lord, and as you were saying, give me your hand; nay, nay, you might have spar'd that,—

for I have been so busie setting in order some new Jewels to wear, that Ods [...]ish I forgot to wash 'em to day.

Ay or this Week either, on my Conscience: Well, if my Guts don't come up now, I'm happy.

Hum, this long Chin'd Don is very familiar, methinks, but if this hold, I shall make bold to let him know there are some Go­vernours his Equals, to be first serv'd;—Gad my quality shall be [Page 41] known now. I have it: What, we must do great things now.

Ay, ay, you say enough of my Beauty, and my good shape, now y'are in the sit; but I have had but slender Proofs from a Person as I thought of your Ability.

Hum, what a Devil shall I say now, for the truth is I have always shun'd her as a Hare does a Hound, when she hears the Horn near her.

Oh, Madam, Business, business, 'tis that has always occasion'd my misfortune.

I beseech ye, Madam, let him mind his—hem—hem, and let others—that are more diligent—and men of quality too mind yours.

So, thank my Stars,—I have a Rival now,—of a Valet de Chambre.

Time was my Lord, when that face of yours could do something with me,—but you Courtiers are so dull in matters of moment, that a Woman of spirit grows weary of ye presently.— My Lord, prithee come hither and put this Patch on right.

Humph, humph, poor Prince how he looks now?

Pray Madam, dispatch his Business, and send him away, I have a word or two to speak t'ee in private.

And what Private Business—hast thou with me, ha,—Go, you are a Rogue;—You are so uppish now y're a Man of Quality.

Ay, 'tis even so, I find I'm a meer Cast-away,—but I must Collogue till I get my Ends of her however.

Well, my Lord, and what other Business have you with me, besides your Address? what, you would speak with the General?

Yes, Madam, and about earnest Business concerns him.

Lend him your Key, Madam, dont't go your self t [...] intro­duce him; 'tis below ye: Besides, you know he'l be every minute troubling ye, for he's employ'd continually.

'Tis true, therefore I'll put that trouble off my hands▪ There, my Lord, that Key admits ye to him; and now d'ee hear, you may negotiate your own publick Business—without troubling mine in private.

Ay, d'ee hear, my Lord, you understand without trou­bling ours in private.

Blest Accident, Fortune has thrown that into my hands un­expected, that else I should have half-damn'd my Soul with Lying and Flattery to get from her,

I hear, Madam, the Ge­neral's busie now with some Friends, an hour hence will be time enough for me.

Oh, when you please:—Your Servant, my Lord.

Your Servant, good my Lord;—there, there's the Door, my Lord.

Insolent Rogue, he sees not yet the Fiend that's hovering o're him

The General is busie,—'tis true, that is, he's Drinking: A Daily Affair that my Brother Pedro always em­ploys

him in: he says politickly, but I'm sure 'tis an insufferable Plague to me, for he's now and then stark mad,—runs up and down without his Hat, and but one Stockin on, stares like a Fury, and never comes to visit me, but after three or four words we fall to Cuffs;—here lies his Perruke, and there my Head-dress; but Ods­fish I'll be reveng'd of him.—Come, my Lord, let's go in, Come.

My Lord,—my Lord — how purely — it sounds, and what a figure I shall make, when for Air or so,— I whip over agen into my own Country England. Zooks how my Title will rattle there!— Here's Don Ricardo arriv'd, they cry presently: Then to the Park I scowre, then to the Play-house, then the Side-box, then behind the Scenes, and then prattle with the little pretty Tuzzy Muzzy, winking, Pinking Rogues; Ah Le Plasire charmant, dear Madam, I beg your Pardon. — Gad I was so wrapt with my new Fortune,— that I had almost forgot your Ladiship.

Had ye so: Come Sirrah, come your ways in and take a Dram of my Bottle, —I'll give ye something shall rub up your re­membrance presently; Come Ricky—come Sirrah.

March on Don, march on, Oh happy, happy Rogue! What, we must do great things now.

SCENE II.

Blest News! The Face of things wears; sudden Change, re­volting Crowds throng hourly to the Castle,—and beg for Pardon, promising to turn and serve with,—The Rebell's humour's now so monstrous grown, that he spares none, murders his Friends and Kinsmen, Racks and breaks o'th' Wheel for every Trifle, not heed­ing Sex nor Age, Desert nor Quality.

His Madness, we may well believe will last too, he has not slept this Week.

And every day they drink him to a height.

That works for us,—and makes him do such mischiefs that now the People Generally hate him; the Vice-Queen's Prayer is heard, for that she may be throughly satisfied with sweet Revenge, which I confess my best Divinity can't in this Juncture dissallow; [Page 43] —we only want the generous performance of Bissignano's—Pro­mise, —and Mataloni's Valour to effect it, and then Revenge is sure.

But who comes yonder, Oh my Tortur'd Soul!—Who is't? I see my dear, my sweet Fellicia.

Had ever Beauty so severe a Blast, or tender Innocence so hard a Fate! The Ravisher it seems Mad with his Guilt, and fear­ing 'twould exasperate the People soon, —as the Barbarous Acti­on was perform'd, close cover'd with a Veil convey'd her hither.

Bury me quick, Oh do not look upon me, but pity and re­venge, Oh if a wretched ruin'd Virgin's Prayer can touch your Hearts, pity me and revenge.

My Heart is wounded, and my Reason fails me,—why such things are, I must not dare not ask,—the Mystery of Religi­on, curbs my thoughts,—and there is nothing left me but to wonder:

Welcome, most Noble Lord, —good Luck I hope has blest us in your coming.

Good, as 'tis possible,—here is the fatal Key that opens Hell, where all the Fiends sit in Triumphant Revels, amongst their Brimming Bowls, fearless of Danger.—Now let us plunge 'em to the inmost Cavern,— where Sulphurous Caldrons boyl, with hot­test fury — I sent a Message to the Vice-Queen lately—to get the Blowze the Fish-wife out o'th' way by inviting her to Musick,— or a Banquet; and she resolves on't; this being done, our way is clear, our Hearts and Hands are ready to crush this [...]dious Mons [...]er.

Lead, Brave Prince.

And yet it is, below our selves, methinks, to taint our Hands with his vile Blood — our Slaves shall do the Drudgery.

I'll be there however, — lest some damn'd Accident

Should Intervene and stop the wish'd Affair.

And I'll go beg,—your good Success by Prayer.

SCEN. III.

She has defy'd my Love, and dares my Cruelty; Is Massai­nello to be dar'd, — no, — Woman, thou soon shalt find the Thunderbolts of Iove, and all the fierce Artillery of Heaven— too weak to balk my Power,— Yet she Smiles, and when I talk of Rape— or Death with Torment, points to the Sky as if from thence she hop'd fresh Succours to relieve her.

Harkee,—don't mind him, he's got now into one of his moody Fits: — Come, come, drink about.

He has sent for the Dutchess,—and I suppose will be some­what rough with her Grace, if she keeps her old Humour;—Ten to one but we shall see some Scratching, Mewing and Caterwaw­ling between 'em.

Caesar Lubrano, Tursis and Zavalio, three mighty Dons that proudly look'd upon me as I thought with Contempt, shall die to Night, their Houses Burnt and Plundered; — nor stop I here, but all their Heads and Hands from Bodies chopt, and then Nail'd up­on Crosses,—shall stand to adorn th' Entrance of my Palace; and had I but that Devil Mataloni,— but here's one half of him, the Fiend split in two, this part is Woman.

Well, Sir, what Torture next? you flag and cool, my Courage can endure a thousand worse, than these I feel of Dark­ness and of Solitude,—my Humour too is fix'd just as it was, for know I hate ye still.

And I thee now, so rankly, I could wish thou wert a Man, that being of the stronger Constitution, thou might'st feel pain the more.

So she has netled him already, —there's no moulding her to any thing by fair means,—she's obstinate still,—what a De­vil is this Vertue, I wonder that Women stickle so about,— They can sell it for nothing, I never heard it was worth a Groat.

Ah—the General never went the right way to work with her; if any Woman denies me impertinen [...]ly, 'tis but knock­ing her down, and there's an end of the matter.

Will you not prove the force then of your hatred? Order the Rack or Wheel, or any thing, so you dismiss me.

Poor Obstinate,—art thou so fond of Pain?

Pain—will be pleasure, so I save my Honour.

Your Honour! Since then—y'are of that so tender — I thank ye, you have shewn the way to plague ye,—I am not igno­rant, a Woman's Will can when its stubborn de [...]ie death and horror, —if that Fantastick whimsie be secure,—and I have found one of this sort are you:

For to divert my self and my Companions thou shalt here be strip'd stark naked in our view, each charming Limb which Fool's mistake for Beauty,— expos'd even to my Guards to mock and scorn.

Torment of Torments, what have I heard him say?

Here, seize on her, and use the haughty Mischief as I com­mand, that we may view the Beauty's she's so proud of, and judge whither perfection or defects are most excelling.

We shall have some fresh Play presently.

Oh, I have been too rash,—thus at your Feet—I beg your pardon, and repent my words: Burn, tea [...] me piece-meal, for pro­voking ye, invent new Tortures that were never heard of,—to glut your Cruelty, and I'll call it Justice, but let me scape the shame of being expos'd.

Oh does it pinch ye now,—is—thin skin'd Honour so nice that a meer sight on't makes ye squeak.—I say uncloth her, for I now, methinks, expect a certain pleasure, to behold a Body that Mankind oft Damn their Souls for.

Oh I will never rise but rooted here, —fix till my life for­sakes me.

Tear off her hold, — and strip her instantly; and when she's so disgrac'd, take off her Head, and send it to her Yoke-mate Mataloni.

That shall not need,—he comes to fetch the whole, here's Mataloni's self.

Oh,—Extasie!

Fall on my Soldiers.

Hah surpriz'd! yet you shall buy me dearly, Despair assist me.

Ah—Coward Fates! had my last minute prosper'd, — to reach thy Life, my own had fled with joy; but thou hast stop'd me,

With thee die all my Fears: Oh my Soul's Joy, — once more, I see there's a kind Star for Lovers.

I cannot speak: Ah let my Eyes express me.

Secure those Rebels; then with speed let's go to meet the Viceroy and the Cardinal.

Let the Spanish Troops be d [...]awn up near the—Castle, ready to publish when the Word is given the Death of this proud Monster.

They shall, my Lord.

And now thou Glorious Saint, Protector of our Kingdom, thus we thank thee.

SCEN. IV.

What is th' Pageant come?

So, please your Highness, I saw the Coach stop now at the Gate.

Her Sister too, and the whole Tribe of Fish-wives.

And is the Mask—prepar'd as I gave Order?

Yes, Madam, and the Hangman, Death and the Devil [...]oo, with their proper Ornaments, all ready to wait on her.

Her Mackerel Ladiship, — I dare affirm was never in her Life so Entertain'd.

Not as she shall be e're I part with her, — By this time sure the Destinies have play'd their fatal Game, and the bold Rebel has in Hell his payment, as Noble Bissignan [...], sent me word, they then had plotted, and the hour's now past, — It must be done;th 'uncom­mon Joy I feel, gives me assurance his Death will be their sport,— whilst I divert me with his Mawking here, and shew her Beastly [Page 47] self by a reflection. She comes, [...]d with a Pride I warrant, proper. — Who waits there? Set Cha [...] out for her Mightiness — and her Retinue, and when the Mask begins, let one stand by her to explain the Figures.

Well, Odsfish, 'tis a happy thing to be a Woman of Qua­lity: Had I been a poor Jade now, the Devil of any Ball, Mask, or what d'ee call it had been made for me, — and now lookee, the Vice-Queen thinks it her duty to shew me respect, — On my word, this is a great point gain'd.

Ay, Madam, — I warrant she has some suit or other to your Ladiship; and faith, Madam, if you [...]' take my Counsel, don't be too forward, let her wait a little,—'tis th [...] Method at Court always.

'Tis so, Boy, thou'rt in the right.— Come now, let's hear this Stuff.

Now that your Greatness may understand the Figures, — you must know that the first is a Fisherman, and the Dowdy his Wife.

Ha, ha, ha, —Odsfish that's pleasant enough.— Well, and prithee what's t'other?

Th' other is a Monster representing Rebellion.

I warrant that's a troublesome Rascal.

This is a Rascally Fellow, that's got into Office, and serves the o [...]hers in their Villanies, his Name is Pride, — a Pimp, a Scoundrel. —

Odd, methinks, the Fellow has a pretty kind of an Ap­pearance: Gad I think he's like me: Come, let's hear him.

Oh G [...]d, what Nauseous Scraggy Rascal's that— soh — I abominate th' sight of him.

And I the t'other, — methinks he looks lik [...] the Hang­man.

Right, Sir, he is one, — the t'other is, Madam, a strange surly positive morose Fellow, his Name is Death; few of you La­dies like him, he has not Flesh enough; the other, one that repre­sents Rebellion.

I warrant that's a troublesome Fellow.

Eyh, Eyh, — What would the Raw-bon'd Rascal have? Oh hideous! Hands, off Sirrah. Was ever such an Abuse?

'Tis part of the Entertainment, Madam, you must go with him.

Go with him, I'll see the Devil have him first.

And his Dam,— the t'other here—Hands off Sirrah; you'l grow sawcy presently.

And what would you have with me ye Impudent Rascal? D'ee see how you soil my Coat?

Oh he has a Halter, Sir, will cure ye of all Fashions pre­sently. In short, Goody Fishwife, the Villain your Husband's dead, and yours Madam will be presently, therefore all ye have to con­sole upon is to hang decently by one another: But first that you may die in your right Stations, kneel there and pay your Homage.

Ah— Treason, Treason, where are my Guards?—

Help, help there, I'm a Lord— Good People.

Ye Lye, ye are a Pimp, ye Rogue, they must Guard ye to the Gallows.

What can your Mightynesses bow so low, you that so late could dash at the Nobility, and kick your Kennel-dirt up in their Faces; Hah! can you Truckle now ye Groveling Slaves, y'are in your right Stations,— low as your Parent-clod. Then throw their hated Carcasses on Dunghills, drag 'em to death; at last the hour is come, tho' long expected, which my indulgent Genius did reserve to gratifie the labour of my Soul for all its Torments during this Rebellion: — Mean Souls when wrong'd, mean Satisfaction take.

Oh how the Slaves can Truckle, when they find how the Tide runs against 'em!

My [...]ord Cardinal— your Eminence was in the Market­place; How did th [...]y rellish my first Proclamation?

Just as all Rabble do in Turns of Times; those that but two days past, would have stemm'd Torre [...]ts▪ [...] to the mouth o [...] a new mounted Cannon, and [...]inger'd eve [...] [...] [Page 50] —Now when they heard his Death, and found the Tide turn, laid present hold upon your Act of Grace, and were so far from naming him as General, that they even rent their Throats with this loud cry, Long live the King, and our most Noble Viceroy.

Nay more, no sooner had they seen his Body as it lay dead, but with Impetuous Fury they chopt his Head off first, and next his Hands, and on a Poll exalted them in view,— then dragg'd the Trunk with Horses through the Streets.

Ador'd be St. Genaro, and the Powers, that to their former Glory have restor'd—Abandon'd Naples, and its Ancient Peace:

They now even offend me with their Zeal, making the Prospect of my Palace h [...]re, their place of Execution! Open that Folding-door, and you may see the Reward of dire Rebellion.