The loving enemies a comedy : as it was acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre / written by L. Maidwell.

The loving enemies a comedy : as it was acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre / written by L. Maidwell.

Table of contents

Title page

To the much Honoured CHARLES FOX, Esq.

PROLOGUE.

Dramatis Personae.

ACT I. SCENE I.

ACT II. SCENE I.

ACT III. SCENE I▪

ACT IV. SCENE I.

ACT V. SCENE I.

EPILOGUE Written by Mr. Shadwel▪ Spoken by Mrs. Barry.

§

[Page]

[Page]

THE Loving Enemies: A COMEDY, As it was Acted at His Highness the DUKE of YORK'S THEATRE. Written by L. MAIDWELL.

Inventum secuit primus qui nave profundum▪

Et rudibus remis sollicitavit aquas,

Tranquillis primum trepidus se credidit undis,

Littora sccuro t [...]amite summa legens:

M [...]x vagus exultat pelago, coelumque secutus

Aegeas hye [...]es Io [...]iasque domat.

Claudian.

LONDON, Printed for Iohn Guy at the Sign of the Flying Horse between St. Dunstan's Church, and Chancery Lane. 1680.

To the much Honoured CHARLES FOX, Esq.

[Page]

[Page]

SIR,

I Very much congratulate this occasion, though I readily acknowledge, that this poor Present brings small advantage to any, but him that gives it; who gains thereby the opportunity of publickly owning those great respects he shall alwayes pay your name, and of setting his hand to a paper, as a voluntary surrendry to you, of all his good Wishes, and Services. If the Treat he provided be not so well drest, or serv'd up, as it ought to be, pray let him beg pardon, with that common, yet necessary excuse of a young House-keeper, one not well settled, and scarce with any thing in readiness. Suppose his Garden newly planted, very little, or no fruit to be expected the first year, and the unexperienced Planter, not as yet well skill'd, in keeping off the cold winds, and nipping Frosts; howsoever he intreats you to receive what he has rais'd, and to eat kindly of his first-fruits, with which the greatest men have been alwayes pleased, and Heaven claims them before other off rings.

[Page] Now dear Sir, as I once lov'd you with your other Brothers, so those hopeful Gentlemen being dead, I will center my good wishes on you; may you joyn their virtues and sweetness to your own, may you be one fo [...] all, to your Relations, and Friends, and may you like your excellent Father, be as eminently concern'd in the World, and as honourably prais'd by it, to the great satisfaction of

Sir,

Your most humble Servant, L. Maidwell.

PROLOGUE.

[Page]

WHo dares be witty now, and with just rage

Disturb the vice, and follies of the Age?

With Knaves and Fools, Satyr's a dang'rous fault,

They will not let you rub their sores with salt.

Else Rose-streets Ambuscade shall break your head,

And life in Verse, shall lay the Poet dead.

Since therefore such unequal Iudges sit,

Who for suspicion punish men of Wit,

'Twill be self-preservation to be dull,

It cracks the credit but preserves the skull.

Henceforth live long and undisturbed lives,

Your Countrey-Worships, and your tawdry Wives,

The flaunting Punk and Ladies eldest Son,

All such who are by mutual crimes undone;

Like Lakes look green and flourish to the Eye,

But yet for want of stirring putrifie.

For I am told that Fop, and eke the Clown,

Iointly subscribe Petitions in each Town,

And swear all Satyr with bold truth shall down.

Why, cry they, What has wit to do with me?

With this Mans folly, or his knavery,

It is not fit we lose our property.

We'll pound the Poet up in small extent,

Far from his arbitrary Government.

Birth-right is birth-right, and he shall not rail,

We are undone, if common sense prevail.

Meum and tuum now shall be the rule,

The Magna Charta for the Knave and Fool.

Therefore the Poet that designs this Treat,

Ventures to serve up light and innocent meat.

And since high season'd sauce don't well agree,

Excuse a strangers plainer Cookery.

For to extreams you do the Poet drive,

And make him leave his best prerogative.

So the poor Beaver lest he prove a prey,

Bites off his dearest part, and throws away.

Dramatis Personae.

[Page]

Lorenzo Two Noblemen Enemies to one another from a long fewd in their Families. By Mr. Betterton.

Marcello Mr. Smith.

Antonio. In love with Lucinda, but pretends it to the Widow. Mr. Io. Williams.

Paulo. A brisk old Gentleman in love with the Widow. Mr. Leigh.

Circumstantio. A formal Valet de Chambre very troublesome with impertinent Rhetorick. Mr. Vnderhill.

Albrigi [...]. Servant to Lorenzo.Mr. Richards.

Iulia. Sister to Lorenzo, in love with Marcello, yet never seen by him.By Mrs. Mary Lea.

Camilla. Sister to Marcello, in love with Lorenzo, yet never seen by him.Mrs. Barry.

Lucinda. Old Paulo's daughter, in love with Antonio. Mrs. Shadwell.

Paulina. A rich Widow. Mrs. Leigh.

Nuarcha. An old Maid almost undone for want of an Husband.Mrs. Norris.

With other Servants and Attendants.

Scene FLORENCE.

ACT I.
SCENE I.

[Page]

Antonio and Circumstantio. Ant. waking and rising from his Couch.

Ant.

BLess me, Circumstantio, how goes the day?

Circ.

Dear Sir, two hours precisely are roul'd off since the Meridian, and Sir by the way I have often thought the Sun a proper emblem of all us, though we be never so glorious for birth or parts, like him alas how soon we set! 'tis pity noble Sir that men of parts—

Ant.

—Again Fool brushing up your thredbare phrases▪ your nasty ends of Gold and Silver, your tawdry intellectual Wardrobe, you had best tell me what's a Clock without your foolish sentences and morals—Thou everlasting Coxcomb, are not words to express thoughts by, and the plainest expression of our meanings best?

Cir.

Oh Heaven Sir you amaze me! plain speaking!

Sure words were meant for ornaments of thoughts, and I'd not for the Universe be without those tropes, and flowers that my discourse adorn.

Ant.

Most excellent Rogue! flowers? no your weeds rise thick, and I will root out them or thee, thou gross nauseous Fool: laughter which first thou tookest as an applause, since it hath been the cause of thy disease, shall be thy cure, and thou shalt be a scorn to all the Family.

Cir.

The envy, not the scorn, no men of parts can laugh at me

Ant.

In short Sirrah, tell me plainly what's a clock, or I will cudgel you most excessively.

Cir.

Sir, the Sun has from its Zenith these two hours declined.

Ant.

Incorrigible wordy Rogue!—Come Sirrah, I'll stop those Rhetorick vapours—Ho there within Pietro, is the Pillory I bespoke for this Fool made?

[Enter Pietro.

Pietro.

It is Sir.

Ant.

Let it be brought in.

[Page]Pietr.

It shall Sir.

Ex. Pietro.

Ant.

Now Sir you shall find the ill success of translating the florid Coxcomb. Is there but one sort of Fool more nauseous than other to me, (I mean your Orator) and must you copy him?

Cir.

Sir be concise and clear, I hope you mean not me.

Ant.

In short, most eloquent puppy, you must stand in the Pillory, expos'd to jeers and taunts of all the house, until two hours precisely are rowl'd off.—Sirrah, I told you the next trope was Capital, no metaphors but in turn'd suits Fool.

Cir.

Oh utinam nescirem literas—the Pillory for Rhetorick and good parts!

Ant.

There is no remedy, I have often threatned you before.

Cir.

Oh cruel master whose heart is hard as Rocks of Adamant!

Ant.

Within there, bring in the Pillory, I'll try if punishment will reform thee.

Cir.

I'll dye a martyr Sir to tropes and figures, Oh Nick—Nick Machiavel thou

Enter with pillory.

hast well observed, great merits when they rise too high, meet hate from them who ought to recompence them. Consider Sir the injury you do your own fair Honour, alas I shall not be hurt.

Ant.

I'll try that, put him in.

Piet.

Come, come on.

Cir.

Be not so temerarious, Friends.

Ant.

Put him in, he's at his tropes still.

Cir.

Must I abandon eloquence?—Certes thou wast not born of Humane race, but sprung from some wild Numidian Father, and got on some rough Caledonian Mother, from Ganges West, to Gades East, there is not one so savage. Hold, Hold, I say—

Enter Marcello.

Ant.

Welcome my dear Marcello thou art come in good time to see my Farce.

Mar.

What Engine's this?

Ant.

'Tis a Collar for my Orator, you have often known him plague me with his tropes; this Rascal serv'd me all the [Page] while I studied at Padua, where (instead of Learning) the Coxcomb got a little false Rhetorick and Pedantry, he affects to talk like a Scholar, and never since would bring a message or tell what's a clock without a trope.

Marc.

'Tis pity you should affro [...] one of such parts, release him now, I'll be his surety.

Ant.

He's incorrigible.

Circ.

Sir, when for this noble intercession I shall cease to offer the oblation of my thanks upon the Altar of my heart, may I become the scum and scorn of vagabonds.

Ant.

You see his amendment.

[Enter Nuarcha.

Dearest Nuarcha, I am your humble servant, let me kiss thee.

Nuar.

Thank you dear Sir.

Ant.

What news from my Mistress the Widow Paulina?

Nuar.

This night she ends her year of Widowhood, and now will see and speak with man again, she has removed my old Masters statue out of her Bed-chamber, and old Seignior Paulo has leave this night to speak with her, but sure she is designed for one more young, of whom she thinks and talks, sleeping and waking.

Ant.

Much thanks for thy goods news, faith I must kiss thee again, though much against my conscience and my appetite.

[aside.

Nuar.

How soveraign a Cordial is Mankind!

Cir.

Sir I beseech you to entreat for a remission of my ignominious censure.

Mar.

Pray release your Orator on his submission.

Ant.

I do upon condition he will abandon tropes and figures, and speak sence to his fellow servants.

Nuar.

My affairs call me home, I had almost forgotten, Mrs. Lucinda, Seignior Paulo's daughter, whom you know her Father has placed with my Lady, has a desire to speak with you in the Garden about the prevention of her Fathers marriage with my Lady, which would much prejudice her affairs, I will make way for you to see her.

Ant.

You will most infinitely oblige me, assure her I will not fail to do her all the service of my life, and should think my self happy to venture it for her. One kiss more, dear sweet Mrs. Nuarcha.

Nuar.

A most absolute compleat fine Gentleman, a civil [Page] proper young man is a most sweet Creature! Sir your most obedient servant.

Ant.

Your servant.

[Ex. Nuar.

Marc.

You are a most vigorous man to be able to kiss this Succubus.

Ant.

This salacious old Chamber-maid is better bribed this way than any other.

Mar.

You have a lusty mind to the Widow I see, that you can travel through so soul a way to her.

Ant.

O Marcello, 'tis not the Widow which I aime at. Lucinda's Mine of beauty far exceeds the Widows wealth, so excellent, so sweet, so rare a Creature, I but pretended passion to the Widow to get access to beautiful Lucinda, and now congratulate my happiness, she has contrived an interview her self. But why do I tell thee of this? thou art an Heretick, an Infidel to love.

Mar.

Oh thou mistak'st me, dear Antonio, I am a Convert, I have the Image of a fair one stampt upon my heart, that ne're can be effaced.

Ant.

This is news indeed, may I know who this fair one is?

Marc.

That adds to my confusion, she is unknown; yesterday morning going to my devotions, this Lady being near me dropt her Handkerchief, I stoopt and gave it her, she hastily put up her Vaile, and with so sweet an aire thank'd me for my service, and show'd me such a face, that nature in all her plenteous store can never shew an equal.

Ant.

The shewing of her face in Florence, is an encouragement against despair.

Mar.

I should have thought so, had not I found when she perceived I watched her she shun'd my search, and spight of all my diligence avoided me in the crowd at Church, so that the shewing o [...] her matchless face appears an accident from her surprise, and no designed favour.

Ant.

It cannot be, you construe it amiss, fear not she'll give you opportunity again to see her. But as you are my Friend I have a thing of near concernment to relate to you, a thing that grievs me much, I find the Duke's command has not yet power to tame Lorenzo's spirit, he seems yet more enraged than ever.

Marc.

I know it since the Duke checkt him so severely, and [Page] vow'd to punish his disobedience if he contracted not a friendship with me; he thinks that I by a complaint caused his disgrace, and is more bent upon revenge for that.

Ant.

It is a custome too frequent, and too brutal here, for Parents to entail their Quarrels with their Estates.

Marc.

It is so, and therefore I'd avoid them. Our Fathers ambitious of preferment could not admit superiour or equal, they liv'd like the two fam'd Theban Brothers alwayes in war, the fierce Lorenzo when but young was sworn to oppose the Growth and Fortune of our house, hatred was left by Will and Testament. I have used all healing wayes, affecting the friendship of a person that but for this, would be most worthy of it, but 'tis all in vain.

[Enter Circumst.

Cir.

A Messenger from Padua, who by his haste may well be called a Mercury, well figur'd by his wings on Head and Feet, is much sollicitous to impart his grand affair unto your proper ears.

Ant.

Again at tropes, thou odious Rogue?

Marc.

Antonio Fare thee well, I will to Vespers, and see if I can find my unknown Mistress out.

Ant.

Farewell Marcello, I see this Love will make thee very devout. Where is this Messenger?

[Exeunt.

Enter Julia and Leonora her Governess in the Town.

Leon.

Madam, do not thus blast your beauty with your sighs

And drown it with fond tears, forget the cause

Of this dire mischief.

Iulia.

As soon a wretch with dislocated limbs

Might put the rack out of his memory

That caus'd his torments. How just is heaven

To punish thus the Brothers unjust ra [...]e

With hopeless love upon the Sister! Fierce Lorenzo

Still more and more pursues the good Marcello

Hurryed by my [...]athers hot spirit, and

His own mistakes and Jealousies, whil'st I

Doat on Marcello's generous nature, which

Would pass by all his cr [...]ing injuries,

And heal the wounds which weaken both our Families.

At first I but admired his lovely form,

[Page] His vertue now compleats the victory.

Leo.

Why do you call yours hopeless love? Marcello

Though yet he knows you not, has seen and loves you,

By yesterdays good signs you saw it, which

I'm too skilful not to understand.

Iulia.

Ah Leonora, should my Brother know

He once hath seen my face, although by chance,

He'd tear my heart out, but did he know

I lov'd him! Oh fatal eyes that ere beheld

This lovely enemy.

Leon.

Yet were you married to Marcello, his courage

Might defend you from your Brother and perhaps that marriage

Would close the breach between the Families.

Iulia.

'Twould pull down ruine on us both.

I see thou know'st not his ungovern'd [...]age.

Leo.

Too well I know and fear it, he is talking yonder

In the Piazza, should I suffer you to loiter thus

In the way to Church, I should soon feel his rage I fear.

Let's hasten to Vespers, devotion and good musick

May perhaps soften your care.

Iulia.

No Leonora, no divinity can justle out Marcello

From my thoughts.

[Exeunt.

Enter Camilla and her Governess.

Gov.

Come Charge, let's hasten to the Church,

The Saint of this day whatever good he

Does, brings us good Musick. All the Masters

In Florence assist at the Ceremony.

Cam.

Yet all will cause but little harmony

In me, there's nought but discord in my thoughts.

Oh fatal love! yonder is my Lorenzo,

Heaven! my Lorenzo, foolish tongue he ne're

Alas can be so, though he long has warm'd

My tender heart, and yet he never saw me.

Gov.

What are you musing on? let's haste to Church.

Cam.

He'll hate the Sister of his enemy,

His rage does burn so fiercely in his breast

'Twill cause eternal separation

'Twixt him and any of our Race; fool that

[Page] I am, that I should like that fierceness

In him too, and think it does become him.

Gov.

What do you mutter to your self? go on.

Cam.

I find my love too hard for me, when we are

Bewitched to love a man, we like

Each fault, and folly in him too.

Bless me! my Brother and he come

Towards one another! stand by, I'll

Wait the sad event, I shall be known

By thee, else my black habit makes me

Undistinguish'd, and I would try to hinder it.

Gov.

I'll not appear.

Cam.

Retire, I'll venture on an odd experiment.

Enter Julia and Leonora.

Iulia.

What's here my Brother and Marcello!

Oh fatal meeting. Retire Leonora and let

Mealone—

Enter Lorenzo and his man Vincentio, and Marcello with his man Albricio.

Lor.

Who's here, my hated Foe? now for his

Blood, what power has hitherto defended

Him from this Arm and Justice?

Vinc.

So I shall have an honourable occasion

Of shewing my prowess.

Mar.

I will avoid him as much as honour

Will permit me.

Lor.

What dost thou shun me, Coward?

Mar.

I am less a Coward than thou a Brute,

I fear thee not thou know'st it,

But I'd obey the Duke.

Lor.

That name calls all my strength into my arm

And quickens my revenge, you have abus'd me.

Mar.

'Tis false.

Lor.

At thy life.

They go to fight.

Mar.

Thou ne're shalt reach it.

Albr.

Sir I will wait upon you.

Vinc.

Your servant Sir.

Julia goes to Marcello and Camilla to Lorenzo.

Iulia.

Oh hold your hand, spill not Lorenzo's

blood,

[Page]Mar.

My life, my soul, my Genius, my good Angel

In appearance, but my destroyer now.

Am I a Rival to my enemy?

Lor.

Is your protection there?

Mar.

'Tis in my hand.

Cam.

O Sir, If ever prayers could move your fierce

And stubborn nature, hear 'em now,

Pull not Marcello's blood upon thy head.

He's Generous and would forget your injuries.

Lor.

He dare not then remember 'em, prithee

Woman let me go.—Come from thy guard

And fight.

Cam.

Hold, hold, the rashness of this act will ruine you.

Cam. puts up her vail.

Beho [...]d my tears, deny 'em if you can.

Lor.

Ha! who art thou?

By heaven the brightest thing that e're was seen,

What is't shrinks up my nerves, and calls

Back my revenge?

Cam.

I on my knees beseech you will desist

From your rash action, can you deny me?

Lor.

By all the Saints in heav'n I cannot.

Death what's this that softens me to

Woman? By heaven and earth she is

The sweetest Creature that earth e're was,

Or heaven e're made.

Iulia.

Who is't that on her knees can beg for my

Marcello? have I Rivals too besides the

Enmity of our Family to undo me?

Mar.

Ah Madam had the care you have express'd

Been aim'd at me, I had been blest enough.

Iulia.

I had a care of you, but he must be my care.

Lor.

Marcello go and live, this Lady bids thee

Live. Thank her.

Mar.

I thank none but heaven for my life,

It is unmanly to be thus vain-glorious.

Iulia.

Good Sir walk this way, I have something

More to say to you.

[Ex. Marcello and Iulia.

Lor.

Who are you Madam that have hindred

This present quarrel between my mortal Foe

[Page] And me, but let me tell you, y'have [...]

My private peace, and raised a war more

Dangerous within me than any thing I

Could have met from him.

Cam.

I dare not tell my name, I meant no

Harm to you, but if you love your self,

Or if your nature has imbibed

But the least softness from your Mothers milk,

Pursue not farther good Marcello's life.

Lor.

Good Marcello! Hell and Furies! she loves him.

First let me know who gives me this command.

Cam.

First Sir, deserve it by your temper,

And be assured I will not be ungrateful▪

Farewell.

Exeunt. Cam. Gov.

Lor.

Tempests and whirlwinds! whither am I rapt!

She is gone, she has lest me quite unmann'd,

At once I am stung with love and jealousie,

And I have let my Rival scape my fury.

Sirrah, dog that Lady, and on your life

Enquire out who she is.

[Ex. Vinc.

Thou art not my Foe alone but happy Rival.

Instead of cooling shor has inflam'd our strife:

I'll first defeat thy love, then take thy life.

[Ex. Loren.

The Scene discovers Paulo leaping with his Doublet off.

Paulo.

In troth 'tis well leapt, Paulo, who can say thou'rt old, let me see any young man leap with more agility—hah well done Paulo, come thy joints are plyant, thy back lusty, and thou fit for an able Bridegroom,—hah well done again honest Paulo. What? grey hairs are no marks of old age, but of many years, of chaste and sober youth, and of no idle expence of life, of no years cut off by a Chirurgeon, nor washt away in a Tavern. Widow I commend thee in thy first choice, and hope thou wilt resemble it in a second—Have at thee Widow, have at thee.—Now well jumpt Paulo. But now I must fatherly infuse Chastity into my Daughter, and teach her rules too hard for me, Declaim against the lewdness of the World, and advise her to chuse the vertue of a Nunnery, [Page] for [...]he being [...] setled, my Widow can assault me with no very strong objection. Lucinda come hither.

[Enter Lucinda and Nuarcha.

Lucin.

I come Sir.

Paulo.

What have you been doing Lucinda?

Luc.

Sir I have been observing the Pictures in the long Gallery.

Paulo.

Which of them Child?

Luc.

I observed Europa and Iupiter, and the Picture of Calisto surpriz'd by the same amorous God.

Nuar.

And we observed how he put a trick upon Danae, for all the Guards of her severe Father.

Paulo.

Out upon it, meer bawdry, dost thou know my Child the moral of it? it declares a hot Gallant, and a vile Governess debauch't with money to ruine her charge: Out upon you naughty Girle! to indulge your Carnality with provocation; why did you not look upon the good Saint Mary Magdalen, you know she bemoan'd all her love-vanities, you should have viewed St. Katharine of Alexandria. Did not I bid you speak to your Lady to take down these Pictures, and that of Mars and Venus in a net?

[To Nuarcha.

Nuar.

O Devilish dissembling old Fe [...]w!

Paulo.

I will be a kind Father in keeping thee spotless from this world, I am now old, and can best tell you the small improvement vertue makes in Worldly conversation; come, have you considered well my Child our late Discourse about a Nunnery? Oh the sweet life! O the blessedness of such retirement! O divine pleasure of a Nunnery!

Nuar.

This old Goat thinks to deceive me. What sure do you propose most unnatural rules to be observ'd by her in the fresh spring of her life, which you cannot submit to in the frozen December of your age?

Paulo.

Peace vain naughty carnal Woman. Speak Child, does silence give consent? perhaps thou may'st through piety be Canonized: O what joy! and what honour to us all! to have posterity after thy death pay devotion to St. Lucinda.

Luc.

Pray Sir, may not Wives be Saints? if you please I will turn Nun when I am a Widow.

[Page]Nuar.

I well said Madam; Pray have you the heart to put a young Woman of this neat shape, this complexion, these bright eyes, this sweet breath, these clean teeth—

Paulo.

Woman, hold thy tongue.

Nuar.

I will not, what into a Nunnery! what flesh and blood dares be her Confessor? there's ne're a shav'd pate of them all but has more mind to her than a month's fasting.

Paulo.

O Lord! she will make me deaf with talking.

[He walks disturb'd and she follows him.

Nuar.

Had she been crooked, had she wanted an eye, one leg shorter, one hand revers'd, or uncurable fits, or by any distemper improper for copying out her own sweet-fac'd Picture: then she had been fit for a Nunnery, then most fit for your Matins and Vespers.

Paulo.

Well, have you done?

Nuar.

No Sir, I have not done, Is this flesh and blood for a Nunnery? no, she shall be a Matrimonial Saint, her shrine shall be a Down-bed and a Quilt, and her Chapel a well furnisht Chamber, the Pilgrim that shall kneel to her and kiss her, shall be a young handsome man, and you need expect no Miracle, but to see her Nuns work run up and down, and call you Grand Pappa.

Paulo.

I tell thee Woman, I shall chastise thee if thou holdest not thy tongue. Thou hast been false, thou hast corrupted my daughter, thou hast confederated with Carnality: Get thee out of my sight, I will forthwith speak to my Lady Abbess about it, and she shall be admitted to morrow.

Luc.

Sir, if you please, since a Daughter cannot with a Father dispute this great affair, which like marriage is for better for worse, let your Friend and mine reason it calmly, whether your only Daughter should turn Nun; If their reasons convince me, I obey.

Paulo.

Well, for once I consent, who shall they be?

Luc.

Sir, any young Gentleman of Florence shall judge for me, and for you my design'd Mother-in-Law Paulina.

Paulo.

Begon you sawcy Baggage: What, concern your self in your Fathers Business? what, you can prate, can you disobedience?

Luc.

No Sir, I am all duty; you told me, you lov'd me, because I did resemble my Mother: I would fain increase your [Page] love, and be like my Mother in every thing.

Paulo.

Begon I say, my will is fixt.

Luc.

Pray Sir, I ever lov'd my Father, and since the world is so perillous, let us both leave it: You often commanded me to follow my Parents Example.

Paulo.

Hence Impudence. And get thee out of my presence, Thou pestilence of the Family:

[Exeunt Luc. and Nuar.

—pert Sl [...]t—Well now for my Widow—Well jumpt Paulo—hah vigorous Paulo, hah lusty Paulo—Hah brave Paulo.

[Exit jumping.

ACT II.
SCENE I.

Enter Antonio, after him Circumstantio.

Ant.

WEll sirrah, what makes you stay so long, when I bid you return a speedy answer from Lucinda?

Circ.

Pray Sir, let me excuse my stay, secundum quid, by the History of some extraordinary contingences which interfer'd, though indeed I am of the Stoicks opinion, that nothing is contingent, but only seems so quoad nos.

Ant.

Sirrah to the purpose Rogue, Rascal.

[He kicks him.

Circ.

Sir, why do you wrong your self, and debase your nature by this vile imploy, which instead of making you red with anger, should make you blush for shame?

Ant.

You tormenting Villain speak now, or else I am resolv'd to damn you to the Pillory.

Circ.

Alas Sir, the Pillory! by this passion you extinguish every thing that is Socratick, or indeed Philosophical; you become my servant, I can make you kick me when I please, alas poor Gentleman! did he but see how passion alters his countenance, and defaces the pleasure of his Mistress!

Ant.

Within there-bring in the Pillory; now sirrah you shall not escape: bid your fellows come in with the Pillory and Garland.

Circ.

Sir, pray ponder the thing, and that you may not by designing me, expose your self to domestick ignominy, I will endeavour to give verbal satisfaction.

[Page] Enter Pietro, Cook, Butler, Coachman, with the Pillory and Garland.

Ant.

Look invincible fool, here is the best Scheme for your Rhetorick, this must be your Climax, and this the ornament for your florid head, come put his Collar on, lest in his madness he bites some of you, and so infect you.

Circ.

Fellow-servants intreat your Master to consult his reputation, and not pursue a thing so mal a propos.

Ant.

Insufferable slaye, as impudent, as invincible.

Circ.

Sir, what [...]rrour, what fault, what transgression? where is the least Circumlocution? though habits are very tough.

Ant.

In with him. I leave him to you, let him not sleep, for that's bad in Physick, I allow you all battering instruments; sirrah, your faults are many, I hope they will reckon them up in my absence.

[Ex. Antonio.

Circ.

Torrens dicendi copia multis, & sua mortifera est facundia.

Pietro.

What at it again? I hope this punishment will prove a cleansing vomit for your tough bits of eloquence.

Circ.

I will suppress my anger, though it swells my heart, and hear what the dull Rout will say, and thus by taciturnity deceive them. Philosophy I thank thee!

Cook.

Lord what makes Circumstantio in this strange disabilie as he used to call it! he swells like some Don in his ruff, sure the rogue has got a cold and cannot stir his neck.

Butler.

No, no, the Landress has put too much starch in his Cravat: that light pate of his peeps like a Cork out of a bottle.

Coach.

Well learned Domine! I knew you would at last be yoked for your frequent breaking of hedges, most high and mighty, you were alwayes despising your fellow-servants, calling the Cook greasie, Butler frothy, the Coachman stable man.

Enter Nuarcha.

Pietro.

I am afraid our sport will be prevented by the coming of this old Maid, now must we kiss her, and talk of her husband, to keep her in some tolerable humour. Come Gentlemen show your breeding.

[they kiss her one after another.

[Page]Nuar.

Blessings on you all, kind hearts, I have not received so much comfort these two months: pray where is Antonio? for I came to speak with him: ah! but what do I see the accomplished Circumstantio in the Pillory?

Circ.

Ah how dark and erroneous are the sentiments of the unphilosophick, which proceed from want of definition and distinction, they suppose this Pillory to be malum verum, which we that have been better taught know to be but malum apparens, no wise man can suffer ill; for how insignificant is malum poenae, when the essence of a man is free from malum culpae! Oh what consolation do I find in Metaphysicks! I will assure you Auditors, neither candid, nor gentle, that I value not this Pillory nor its Pilloreity.

Nuar.

Well, I never heard him speak so finely before.

Pietro.

Mrs. Nuarcha, my Master is coming.

Nuar.

Then I will compose my self. Sir, Mrs. Lucinda so desirous of your company

[Enter Ant.

has sent me after your servant to hasten your coming, and to tell you that she expects you within an hour at the Garden door, where I shall be ready to receive you, and for this good news let me beg Circumstantio's liberty. Indeed Sir you do not use him according to his deserts.

Ant.

Indeed Mrs. Nuarcha you are in the right, but for your sake and this excellent news, I will not at this time be ungrateful in denying you any thing, well let him come out; Circumstantio you're bound to pay your respects to this Lady, and by right, if she thinks fitting, to marry her that brings you the reprieve, but as the Prologue of Matrimony, kiss her.

Cir.

I kiss her not quà Nuarcha, but quatenu [...] my deliveress.

[Kisses her.

Nuar.

Your words and lips shall alwayes be acceptable.

Antonio

I must now return, shall I tell Lucinda that you will not fail, for she expects me with impatiency.

Ant.

Tell her I will watch each minute, and the hour will seem a year till I wait on her.

[Exeunt.

Enter Julia and Governess, presently after Marcello, and his Servant, in the Town.

Gov.

Madam, Marcello just meets us.

[Page]Iul.

—If he

Knows me I am ruin'd, is there no way

To escape him? though I would willingly

With his leave fly into his arms.

Gov.

—Come, come

Prepare your discretion to receive him.

And put him off with hopes of seeing him,

Marc.

Madam, though in obedience to your command

I durst not enter the Church after you,

So nice you are of discovering your self,

Yet now be not offended if I strive

To know the name of my kind Protectress.

Iul.

Sir, pray retire, for sure the fierce Lorenzo

Hovers hereabouts to meet you, and then

I his fury returns, as sure it will,

Perhaps the kind Lady that bow'd his heart

And arm, may not be at hand to help you.

Marc.

Like Heaven you gave us unexpected help,

And speak your mind like it in Oracles,

Dark and mysterious. I know no Lady

Neither you nor her, and owe no safety

To any but your self. Strange interview!

Big with contraries, which saves, and yet destroyes.

To hinder my chance of death thrown

From my enemy, yet as the same Friend

To murder me by kindness to my foe!

Iulia.

Let it satisfie in this place in words

To promise you, that I am as ready

As the other Lady to render my

Assistance to the worthy Marcello.

Marc.

It seems you know me Madam.

Iul.

—Not so well

As the Lady who ventured the blind rage

Of Lorenzo, by exposing her life

To save yours, you have small reason to blame

My hard heart, when you find such softness there.

Marc.

Madam, 'tis the greatest severity

To rally with a Wretch upon the rack.

Iul.

Come, you must be kept there till you confess.

Marc.

Confess! what Madam?

[Page]Iulia.

—The name of her that

Did you such service, and then you may more

Justly expect mine, for my part I can

Allow you but one Mistress at a time.

Marc.

Madam, if you design me by cruelty

For death, let me not mistake some kindness

In your words to keep me longer in pain.

Oh speak my fate, for doubt is worse than death.

You'll prove unkind if you pronounce my death,

Yet more kind by speaking to finish life and pain.

Iul.

Sure despair is the worst vice of the Brave.

Well, to be short, I will make

This agreement with you, pursue no more

Questions nor any further inquiry

At this time, and I promise suddenly

To grant the satisfaction you desire.

And may Heaven grant that knowledge don't increase

Those torments which we both conceive in ignorance.

[Iul. Governess exeunt.

Marc.

Well, I submit, 'tis more generous to say, I obey my

Mistress, than necessity, and 'tis better far to stand still, than

march after love, when it moves like a wandring fire.

Lest the poor Traveller goes more astray

In a blind Moonless light, and unknown way.

[Marc. Serv. exeunt.

Enter Lorenzo, in the Town.

Lor.

Sure my Servant is lost, as well as his poor Master. Oh how I rack my mind to know who this fair Creature is! perhaps to my greater torment, for some small hope hovers about me in my ignorance, which will take wing and upon information leave me

[Enter Vincentio.

Well, who is she? speak—hold—upon your life forbear, your look foretells misfortune.

Vinc.

Pray Sir, shall I tell you, or shall I not tell you?

Lor.

If your relation be good, stay not a moment, but if fatal, let it remain in everlasting silence—yet I must hear, come who is she?

[Page]Vinc.

Nay Sir, be not so passionate, for I can neither kill you, nor save you.

Lor.

Slave be quick, who is she?

Vinc.

Pray Sir be satisfied, heaven and St. Peter knows for me.

Lor.

Wretch, dost thou not know? why dost thou keep me thus in pain? speak or for ever hold thy tongue, who is she?

Vin.

Sir, in short I dogg'd her, but she was too nimble for me, she was mingled with so many in the Church, that I could not distinguish her.

Lor.

Villain thou lyest. I will kill thee, and write fool in thy blood, what, not distinguish her? villain thou lyest, 'tis impossible, a bright circle alwayes crowns her face, her vail was all illustrated, as clouds gilded by the Suns darted beams, her breath would discover her at distance, as spices in blossom betray Arabia to approaching Travellers. Roses grow for ever where she treads, and nature paints her footsteps: not know her, not distinguish her! Impudent sot; recollect, and tell me you know her.

Vinc.

Hey-day: here's brave alteration in my Master: truly Sir, to speak the truth, I have a great cold, and so perhaps could not smell her, and then my eyes are very weak, and cannot look against so much light; as for Roses I saw none. Ladies servants, and their servants servants look not with the same eyes. Perhaps 'tis alwayes Summer, and hot weather when you see her, but it was Winter by that time I drew near to her.

Lor.

Yes, by your stay it seemed so; march before, and lead me to her; or—

Vinc.

Lord Sir, what do you mean? have a little patience, and she may come by this way again. Vespers were almost done when I came to you: [...]—see your enemy Marcello is just going into his house.

Lor.

I would it were his grave, but I will shortly send him or my self thither.

Vinc.

Sir pray look that way—I think I spy the same Lady coming, yes 'tis she, now I see the light about her face, yes I smell the roses, and see them blush, and peep under her Petticoat.

Lor.

'Tis she—I know my murdress is at hand by inward bleeding. My heart beats vehemently, and my blood presses [Page] with haste through lifes flood-gates: love which animates all creatures, abates my courage, when I have most need of it. I cannot speak to her, and yet I must.

Enter Camilla and Governess.

Cam.

Lorenzo is here, alas I tremble

To meet the Man I love. I know he stares

To learn who I should be, and where I live.

'Tis only ignorance can make him kind,

For knowledge would extinguish his devotion.

He comes this way, be sure you discover

Nothing of me to his servant.

[aside to her Governess.

Lor.

Madam

Grant me the favour of some few minutes,

To tell you that you have kill'd me, and sav'd

My enemy; pray pardon the roughness

Of my unpractis'd love, born in a storm

And yet wrapt up in its clouds and darkness.

Oh tell me I beseech you who you are,

That were so kind to my foe Marcello.

Cam.

Sir, I should venture more to save the life

Of good Marcello; and since time and place

Hinder me from offering long prayers

To you, let me beg one boon on my knees

If you can love

[he stops her kneeling.

Lor.

Madam, I beg of you

Not to abuse you supplicant; O Death!

She names the villainous Marcello with affection,

And calls him good, but in death I should be

Charitable, pray name your boon that I

May grant it.

Cam.

May good heaven bless Lorenzo

For this mercy; be kind to Marcello

And then—

Lor.

Curst expression! each syllable

[aside.

Proves a poynard, and stabs me to the heart.

Marcello is my rival; Dear Madam

Pronounce those words again to make me happy,

If there be happiness for me in death.

[He stands musing.

[Page]Gov.

Come Charge, let us go.

Vinc.

Hold, hold, you have not proved your self a woman yet, and discovered who your Lady is.

Gov.

But you have declared your self a Serving-man by that question, What are you? your masters forlorn hope? [...]ent out to skirmish with the enemy, and then retreat to the main body.

Vinc.

I never heard the Sutlers wife, or the Laundress call her self part of the Army before.

Gov.

Saucebox, I believe your empty belly, and foul Linnen put these words into your mouth; come Charge let's go and not expose our selves thus in the street.

Cam.

I go with great regret, but must retire,

Farewell Lorenzo, and be kind to me.

[he starts.

Lor.

By heavens I am astonished and scarce know

Where, and who I am! O stay a little

And hear my last petition, pray tell me

Who you are, so cruel to Lorenzo

And so kind to your Marcello; Whom now

I must for ever hate, for what can move

A man so much, as his lost fame and love?

Cam.

O speak not such ill omens, for kind heaven

Will bring us safe out of our labyrinth.

I go Lorenzo, but will soon find time

To see you, and make my self more happy,

If now you'l promise me to retire

Without observing me.

Lor.

Well, I promise

Since it pleases you, to torment my self:

And be tormented by my ignorance.

Cam.

'Tis best, for knowledge would my hopes destroy,

His hatred is so inveterate against any of

Our house: farewell Sir

[Exeunt Cam. Gov.

Lor.

Farewell my Visionary Mistress; for I neither know who, no [...] whence thou art; like Ixion, I did fancy a Goddess, but embrac'd a cloud. Sirrah what were they we discours'd with just now?

Vinc.

Two Women, without doubt Sir.

Lor.

'Tis false, impudence, are your sure you talked with any woman?

[Page]Vinc.

I am sure mine was a true Woman, by her way of speaking.

Lor.

'Tis strange that I should thus forget my self, to lay open my follies before my servant: hurried with new passions of love, and jealousie. Marcello is my Rival and my Foe. My Rival—'tis enough—it is decreed. I will forthwith to his house, and kill him: no place shall save him, not the Court, nor Duke; nor Houshold gods; no bright apparition shall rescue him from death the second time.

[Exeunt.

Enter Marcello and Camilla in their house.

Cam.

Brother, are you resolv'd to go to night?

Mar.

Yes Dear Sister, my horses are ready.

Cam.

When shall I see you again?

Marc.

To Morrow.

Cam.

I am sorry you go; pray have a care

Of your self. Lorenzo you know is much

Enrag'd, and seeks after you

Marc.

—Fear nothing

Sister, Lorenzo is honourable.

His greatest fury can suggest nothing

That is unworthy of a Nobleman.

To day I met him, and I will tell you

At more leasure what wondrous providence

Diverted his rage, and divided us.

Cam.

My Brother little thinks, I know the thing

[aside.

So well, which he pretends to hide.—But yet

Brother, last nights dream disturbs me. Methoughts

A young Gentleman of that house kill'd you,

And I in just revenge stabb'd Lorenzo.

Ye both [...]ay dead upon the groud, and then

Rose up, and like the dearest Friends embrac'd.

But that must signifie the other world.

Marc.

Dreams are but the Echo's of the thoughts

Possess your mind by day.—a lively mark

Of your great concern for me, for which I thank

My loving Sister.

[Enter Albricio.

Alb.

Sir, Lorenzo whom I never saw here before, with angry looks and hasty words, bids me tell you that he must speak with you.

Cam.

Oh my Brother!

[Page]Marc.

'Tis fortunate Sister to have him here, I hope he comes prepared to hear me speak: retire Sister, whilest I introduce him.

Cam.

I will withdraw, but overhear you both.

[Ex. Cam.

Marcello going to the door meets Lorenzo.

Marc.

Lorenzo most welcome, you oblige me

And my house for ever, by this favour.

Lor.

Marcello you mistake, I hate both you,

And your loath'd house. I desire no welcome,

But come hither like thy evil Genius

To terrifie thee, and bid thee meet me

In such a place, where chance shall not part us.

Marc.

I cannot fear it in Lorenzo's shape,

Who rather should command my love, than fear,

If he could bridle passion, and [...]

His better reason, and the Dukes command.

Lor.

Oh thou Rock under smooth waters! thou shalt

Never deceive me, thou base enemy,

Best able to kill at distance, and to

Murder me by whispers.

Marc.

You wrong me much,

I hate the wretch as much as you, who can

Deserve this character. I would in my

Own house be calm, and make my plea

To these false objections.

Lor.

—as true, as thou art false.

Now I find in thee a vice, I ever

Thought thee free from, I mean base cowardise,

Which springs from guilt; thou understand'st my rage,

And its just cause, yet would'st by oily smoothness

Loosen my hold, if thou hast any heat,

I will raise it by the remembrance

Of thy Mistress, who sav'd thee from my revenge

Today, 'tis her I'll have too, yet that

Shall never buy my friendship.

Marc.

'Tis enough,

You have broke for me all ties of honour,

And good manners. Lorenzo, be gone,

My house is your best defence, pray leave it,

Your last words will force me to imitate

Your rudeness.

Lor.

I will not go without you,

[Page] I came to fetch you out, and punish you.

Marc.

It is in vain by calmness to flatter

His proud insolency any longer.

I have been tame too long, and that my wrong'd

Love and honour may have their quick revenge

Upon thee, beyond the reach of casual

Assistance to save thee, name some secret place

Where we may meet, if thou dar'st come,

Early to morrow morning.

Lor.

Marcello

For this kindness, if I find it real,

I must thank thee: in nothing else thou can'st

Oblige Lorenzo—well—by Sun-rising

Tomorrow, let us meet at the great Oak

In the Neighb'ring Forest, till then—Farewell.

Marc.

Let not my passion spoil civility,

I will see you safe out of my own doors.

Lor.

Forbear your cere [...]nies, I hate them

From you, like him that uses them, it seems

As recantation of your former words.

[Ex. Lor.

Mar.

You might accept them now, for I will shew you none to morrow. I dare not tell my Sister what has pass'd betwixt us.

[Enter Camilla.

Here she comes, I will prevent her questions by telling her my story first; Camilla I am glad that all things will be soon compos'd between Lorenzo, and my self; for he came very kindly to propose a conference to morrow, where we shall upon the debate grow more calm, I hope for ever; and that my propos'd affair may not hinder me, I must take my leave, and be gone. Dear Sister Farewell, and wish me good success.

[Exit Marcello.

Cam.

May all that is good preserve my dear Brother. He's gone, and now my eyes shall freely speak the rest. He thinks he has deceiv'd me, and that I did not over- [...]ear their f [...]tal assignation, I will retire to my Chamber, and consider how to save them both.

[Exit Cam.

Enter Paulina and Lucinda in a Garden.

Pauli.

Lucinda, your father is so brisk and vigorous of late, that he seems to have dropt Twenty years of his life.

[Page]Luc.

Yes Madam, he has been fortifying himself these three months to my knowledge, that he might appear brisk upon this day of admission.

Pau.

Prithee pay more respect to the old Gentleman before your Mother-in-law, he alwayes appear'd cheerful though not to this degree.

Luc.

Well Madam, if you have a mind to be my Mother-in-Law, 'tis you will have the worst of it, not I.

Pau.

Why so merry Cousin?

Luc.

Because after a very little time my Father must return to rheum and spitting-sheet, and then how will you away with it? I love an old man well enough for a Father, but not for a husband.

Paul.

Pray Cousin let us reason it, such an old man as your Father, or my late husband, would make you an excellent match, come think of it Lucinda, it might prove most proper, his gravity to allay your levity, his cold your heat, as we correct Wine with Water.

Luc.

Out upon it! I would not have an old man, though he made me a joynture of the Indies, though he built me a house of Silver, and turn'd a rich stream of golden Tagus to wash my garden walls, though he could afford me Cleopatra's draughts every morning, I should find out another Antony.

Paul.

O brave Girle, had you rather venture a young mans frolicks?

Luc.

Yes, rather than to lye by an old man, 'tis lying with a Coffin, and I am sure you had rather lye by a certain young man than my f [...]ther.

Pau.

Why do you think so Cousin? an old man is a very wise bosome friend, whom long use of life has polish'd, from whom you may learn the wisest rules to methodize your self.

Luc.

Very good, you advise me to marry an old man, that is to say an history incarnate, true Annals writ upon a Skeleton; and what then, go to bed with this rotten Chronicle? no he shall lye cover'd with Cobwebs first. I don't intend to embalm matrimonial mummy, to spoile the Apothecary's trade, and fill my Closet with gally-pots.

[Enter Nuar.

Nua.

Madam, Seignior Paulo desires to speak with you.

[Page]Pau.

Well, I will go wait upon my Cousin, 'tis to give my approbation to the design of his musick he presents us with to night at Supper. Cousin farewell, and think more charitably of an Old husband.

[Ex. Paulina.

Nuarc.

Antonio is just come to the back door, and I have got my Mistress luckily away.

Lucinda.

Pray bring him into this walk pray make haste, and I will give you the best gown I have.

Nuar.

I go, I go to serve you both.

[Ex. Nuarcha.

Lucin.

I know there is no danger of the Widows marrying my Father, though she carries it so demurely; she has a greater longing after my dear Antonio, and my love is not without some hope; for though he seems to court the Widow, yet his looks and words may be as well interpreted to me, I wish my supposition proves true.

Enter Antonio with Nuarcha to Lucinda.

Ant.

Madam, this happiness you confer upon me is more than any past or future service can repay: pray Madam let me know the honour of your commands, that I may express some thanks by readiness to obey them.

Lucin.

Sir you shall know them presently, they concern both you and my self: good Nuarcha, oblige me in observing my Cousin and Father's motion, that I may not be surprized talking with Antonio.

Nuar.

Well, dear heart, I will, I go most willingly, for a hundred to one but they will talk about my Mistresses affection to Anton [...]o, which amorous discourse will so heat my desires, that they will exceed moderation: well goodly Couple [...]arewell, I dare trust you both.

Ant.

Ah Lucinda, give me leave to speak, and whilest there is time to undeceive you, by all that is good you should believe: you are the design of my true love, and the Widow but the Shadow of the Picture to cheat the eyes of the beholder.

Lucin.

Antonio, you mistake, I am not she you mean, I am Lucinda and not the Widow, 'tis she has ever had the appearance of your love by words and actions, which bid her judge it real. But I wi [...]h with all my heart he means what he sp [...]aks.

[Aside.

[Page]Ant.

Let this propitious hour be for ever blest, in affording me time to express my heart.

Lucin.

Well, well, you are a merry man to whet your discourse on me, against my Cousins coming.

Ant.

Madam, do you think I want eyes and ears to distinguish the beauty, and wit of Lucinda?

Luc.

But to be serious, the only way to procure your Widow, is by keeping off my Father; who to speak dutifully of him seems in the Autumn of his life to pretend a second Spring: I will assure you your Rival is very brisk with her; therefore pray Court your Widow to the purpose, and give her greater assurance of you, that my Father may be diverted from clapping me into a Nunnery; and that is the end of my giving you this trouble. Would to God I could tell him plainly that I love him.

[aside.

Ant.

Oh Lucinda, be not so cruel as to condemn me to new pains: for this falshood of pretended love is as great a torment to me, as a mistake in you; rather command me to own my love before your Father, and the Widow.

Lucin.

No, pray Court on, upon discovery Lucinda must forthwith march into a Nunnery, I believe you will hardly free her from it without her Portion.

Ant.

Dearest Lucinda do not think so basely of your Lover, that the spirit of his love so much delights in dross and earth. I love not Lucinda as the Heiress of her Father; but for the inestimable dowry of her Virtue and Beauty: I have enough left me by my Ancestors, and fortune would be prodigal, to grant me Lucinda to command me and it.

Lucin.

These words will make be believe former passages, that he is real, I must confess.

[aside.

—Well, you are a pleasant man, yet I think it would prove better for me to think of a Nunnery, and its happy quiet, than of launching into a troublesome world, and Domestick Employment, if it were not for one thing—

Ant.

What is that Lucinda?

Lucin.

Why it must out—if it were not for—my Antonio.

Ant.

Oh pronounce those blessed words again, lest it passes for a dream of happiness.

Luc.

Nay, I am glad 'tis out, but if it had not been for fear of Nunnery and Hair-cloth, I had held out longer: yet you [Page] must Court the Widow, as you used to do, the next time you see her.

Ant.

For heaven sake do not relapse, I am weary of the cheat: I must acknowledge the truth, this unkindness suggests as if you did not love me; for Lovers like the Deity hate to have their dues offered to an Idol.

Lucin.

But as you love me, continue it for a while, I warrant you for some handsome Plot to discover all in a little time.

Enter Nuarcha.

Nuar.

Madam, your Father and my Lady are coming, pray set your self in order.

Enter Paulo and Paulina.

Paulo.

How now! what do I see? is not that a young man, and that my daughter?

Nuar.

Yes Sir, and a handsome young man too, he happened to come by when the Garden door was open, and being delighted with the beauty of the place, I invited him in, as one not unknown to my Lady.

Paulin.

Good Sir be disturb'd at nothing, he is a Gentleman of my acquaintance, I am glad that any thing here has obliged his stay: and that my Cousin was here so luckily to entertain him.

Anto.

Madam, I need not fear to come off in the old Gentlemans opinion, having so good an Advocate.

Paulo.

Umph, Advocate, and old Gentleman! no more old Gentleman than your self, for years do not bring age, but debauchery of youths and such Jacks as you are. Come Sauce-box, can you jump as I can? come, the old Gentleman, as you call him, shall try your activity.

[he jumps.

Ant.

How zealously this old Gentleman, like some sort of lovers, acts one thing and is another, declaiming against youth, yet mi [...]king its gaye [...]y!

Paulo.

Young fellow there—leave off your prating, and try if your back can bear jumping as mine does: prethee sweet Widow don't mind his prating, but observe this tryal of skill.

[Page]Lucin.

Pray Madam, speak to my Father to have a care of straining.

Paulo.

How is that, you Saucy baggage? abuse your Fathers back to his face, that was one cause of bringing you into the world? get you gone you undutiful slut, to abuse the spring of your being.

Anto.

Madam, what must your influence and virtue be, which can thus change nature, and metamorphise old age into brisk youth?

Paulin.

But the victory is greater which conquers the stronger, and set [...]les wandring youth within the sober bounds of constancy.

Paulo.

Come troublesome Companion, if you will have all prating and no jumping, pray leave this Lady and prattle with that young Flirt there. I'll warrant her I shall punish her within few dayes for impiously throwing dirt upon my back.

Ant.

Madam, since at this time this old Gentleman will be your only Guardian, pardon me if I am forc't to play the hypocrite.

Paulo.

Well Rag-manners forbear your flouting, or you shall take what follows. And be satisfied that this Lady is otherwise disposed of.

Ant.

Lucinda, it certainly foretells good luck that I have so easily obtained your Fathers consent to Court you.

Lucin.

But what would become of us if either of them imagined the plot betwixt us?

Ant.

Faith, I will directly discover it.

Lucin.

Yes, yes, throw me into a Nunnery▪ and then see how you can get me out: pray at this time break up company, lest it seems too much familiarity at first sight, I will contrive to see you again before midnight.

Ant.

Well, I will obey you in all things—Madam I must beg you [...] pardon for my rude intrusion, and yours Antient Sir, if I have given you any occasion of trouble.

Paulo.

Well Sir, we thank you as much for your room as your company—Antient say you?—Widow pray give him his farewell.

Paulina.

Antonio, I am sorry my circumstances will not permit me to discover how much I value you: but be assured that you shall be alwayes welcome to any place, which calls me Mistress.

[Page]Anto.

Madam, your most obedient Servant, I wish I might in this place plainly express the truth of my affection. With your Fathers good leave Lucinda let me be esteemed your most faithful Servant.

Exit Ant.

Paulin.

Paulo, what think you of him, is he not a most accomplished Gentleman?

Paulo.

No, no,—very indiffe [...]ent,—a meer flash, come put him out of your head. Let's go in, the air grows cold.

[Exeunt Omnes.

ACT III.
SCENE I▪

Enter Marcello, Circumstantio in the Town.

Circ.

MY Master has I must confess above my merits honoured me with a Commission to wait upon you and kiss your noble hands, the which Province I embrace with an eminent Exaltation of joy, since you are a person of such illustrious honour that Florence scarce contains your equal, I am sure not your Superiour, which is no small symptom of my Masters piercing wit and more distinguishing Judgement, that have made so Excellent a choice.

Marc.

You'll never leave your Rhetorick.

Cir.

The subject needs it not, your vast merits afford so ample a Field of Discourse, that with Excessive pleasure I could wander in those delightful paths, but at the present I am too strictly bound by my Masters too hasty expectation of my too quick Return.

Mar.

Prithee to the point if you be in haste, for I am so.

Cir.

I shall be brief, for brevity, though I must confess it does too often obstruct the ravishing torrents of an eloquent▪ and charming tongue, yet in quick dispatch of business I hold it ne [...]essary, and therefore I shall proceed.

Mar.

I must be gon else, what would Antonio have?

Cir.

You being a person strictly allied to him by firm necessitude, and boun [...] to him by the indissoluble knot of an inviolable Friendship, and being a person to whom he is mu [...]is nomini [...]us obstrictus.

Mar.

What would he have with me?

[Page]Cir.

He being also a person embarrass'd with an amorous Intrigue, well may I say embarrassed for res est [...] plena [...]imoris amor, as the Poet sings sweetly, But Antonio being a person—

Mar.

—That would speak with me, when and where?

Cir.

I shall inform you, he being a person who not only having great proclivity to that amorous passion, but being driven by the violence of her beauty whose Image he wears upon his heart, she being a person—

Mar.

—Ounds is she a person too, nay then Farewel.

Cir.

Hold good Sir, and hear the end.

Mar.

S'death you will never come to an end.

Cir.

She being a person—

Mar.

—I will not stay if she be a person.

Cir.

I am astonished Sir at your impatience, would you have me speak vulgarly and abruptly, and in haste like a Nursekeeper that is sent for Aqua-vitae?

Mar.

I am going out of Town, I shall return and wait upon your Master to morrow.

Cir.

Hear me first, I shall be concise, for I am a person—

Mar.

—You a person? nay then farewel▪ a pox on your person.

Enter Marcello's man Albricio.

Albric.

I am much mistaken Sir, if your unknown Mistress be not coming this way—and if it be she, I saw her come out of Lorenzo's house: She's here.

Enter Julia and Governess.

Mar.

What do I hear? Madam I know your person.

And yet I know not what to call you,

Unless it be Lorenzo's Mistress.

Iulia.

Jealousie is sometimes a sign of great love,

But alwayes of little wit.

Mar.

I see then you will own it.

Has my so violent passion deserv'd your scorn?

Iulia.

Jealous and angry too! nay then I'm sure

You are fast enough i'th' toyle.

Mar.

Lorenzo has employed you then

To set your beauteous snares to draw me in.

Then prey on me. This is most exquisite revenge

Iulia.

You are confident I am Lorenzo's Mistress,

Because the Lady who spoke to him to day▪

Is yours.

[Page]Mar.

On my honour I know her not,

But I am sure, you came but now

Out of Lorenzo's house.

Cir.

Shall I not accomplish my Embassie to you?

Mar.

Pox on thee, begon Impertinent.—Albricio know the

Tools Message if you can find it out.

Iulia.

What luck is this he should discover it—

[aside.

I visited his Sister who was bred in the

Same Nunnery with me, and whom I love

Equally with my self.

Mar.

If this be all, I may be happy yet.

Iulia.

Lorenzo is the man on earth I would not have,

I hate his stubborn and inveterate humour,

If he were sole Monarch of the Universe

I would not marry him, but if my too forward

Care of you will make you jealous, you

Shall have less of it hereafter.

Mar.

O say not so, I had rather my good Angel

Should neglect me, and hover about my

Enemy.

Iulia.

Were there no other man in Florence, he

Should never have my love.

A Bark that's toss'd by Tempests on a Rock

Were safer than a woman cast on him.

Mar.

Dear beauteous vision, for yet I know not

What to call you, I am convinc'd

You would refuse his love, and were I sure

You would accept of mine.

Iulia.

You are not sure I am worthy of it.

Marc.

Thou art worthy of the love of Princes.

The greatest Hero that the earth e're bare

In thee might meet the end of all ambition.

Iulia.

Suppose I were one of Lorenzo's Kindred.

Mar.

Wert thou his Sister, I would headlong fly

Into thy Arms, though he were at my back

Ready to give me the malicious blow

He long has wish'd me.

Iul.

How I admire and love his generous nature!

[aside.

Mar.

By this plain declaration I deserve

Thou shouldst reveal thy self, and make me happy.

[Page] For whosoe're thou art, by Heaven I swear

My life and love to thee shall end together.

I am sure thou'rt good, for nature would not slubber so

To place an evil mind in such a body.

Iulia.

Your Generosity has so oblig'd me

That the next meeting which I will contrive

As soon as may be, you shall know my name:

Let it suffice at present to inform you

My vertue is unquestion'd, and my birth

And fortune too may claim the good Marc [...]llo.

Mar.

Life of my soul, here let me seal my vows.

Cir.

The Naturalists observe—

Albr.

—What have I to do with your Naturals, what would your Master have with mine?

Cir.

I am confounded, that I should draw my breath in so unlearn'd an Age!

Albr.

Where is your Master?

Cir.

I cannot say affirmatively what place does circumscribe him, I suppose you hold with Aristotle, that locus est superficies.

Albr.

Pox on Aristotle, where's your Master?

Cir.

Paulina's Mansion did contain him locally, for Corpus must alwayes be in loco, that's certain, but at this present point of time I can only say indefinitely he is not at home.

Albr.

Farewell, a pox of this stuff. Sir, I cannot understand one Sentence that he sayes.

Iulia.

I see Lorenzo coming up that street.

Now if you would have me believe one word

You speak: avoid him quickly.

Mar.

I am all obedience, Joy of my life farewell.

Cir.

Will you not lend your ears for one small moment?

Mar.

Damn you impertinent Rascal.

[Exeunt Julia, Marcello and Albricio.

Cir.

The world is envious of my parts I see,

There's no man truly honour'd while he lives.

I will write something, Quod nec Iovis ira nec ignis,

And then I'll dye and purchase true renown.

[Ex. Circ.

Enter Camilla and Govern. in the Town.

Cam.

Disswade me not, I am resolv'd to venture

Through all the dangers Cowards can imagine.

Gov.

Consult your honour and my safety Madam

[Page] As gentle as Marcello is, he would revenge

Your love adventures upon me.

Cam.

Fear not.

I will protect thee and defend his life,

Or perish with him, 'tis no time to [...]

With his or with my lov'd Lorenzo's safety.

I'll save my honour too, or lose my life.

Go to Lorenzo's house, and let him know

I am here to speak with him.

Gov.

Consider Madam.

Cam.

I prethee lay thy tedious wisdom by,

We must have desperate remedies for this ill.

If thou'dst preserve my life, I do conjure thee

To do as I appoint thee.

Enter Lorenzo and Vincentio.

Gov.

Here he comes.

Put a strict guard upon your honour now

And let not love find out its weaknesses.

Cam.

My honour's safe, he sees me not.

[aside.

Lor.

Revenge,

Thou art my Deity, to thee I pay

My vows and off rings, Oh curs'd Marcello

To morrows Sun shall see thy treacherous heart

Throbbing within this hand. Oh Heavens who's this?

My Genius come to stop the lawful rage

Cam. puts her self before him.

Of this avenging Arm? It is her shape

The motion too of her Coelestial body.

Vinc.

I know her by her Governess my Mistress.

Lor.

Fair unknown Saint of all my vows, to thee

The dear protectress of my life and fortune

I humbly kneel, and from thy powerful doom

Expect my life or death. If thou'lt be kind,

I will look down upon and pity Kings,

If not, the miserablest slave may pity me.

Vinc. speaks to her Governess kneeling.

Vinc.

Fair unknown Saint of all my vows, to thee

I humbly kneel Protectress of my fate,

Pu [...] up this Cloud and shine upon thy servant.

Gov.

Whose Fool art thou?

Vinc.

I am Lorenzo's, pray whose Fool art thou?

It is a secret I would gladly know.

[Page]Gov.

I shall never be thy Fool, that is, thy wife.

Vin.

Break, break distracted heart, there is no cure.

Cam.

Sir, you ask pity of me who needs it more.

Lor.

Pray mock me not, such beauty stand in need

Of pity? 'tis impossible, you may

Give law to all that see you, and those wretches

That once could disobey you ought to be

Cast out from all humane Society,

And left to the company of Bears and Wolves.

Cam.

Oh were these words the dictates of your heart,

I should be happy.

Lor.

By all the joyes of Heaven

They are, I swear on your fair hand, except

You intercede for vile Marcello's life,

There's no command of yours I'd not obey,

I'd singly stand a breach, leap into fire

Or mount a billow when the foaming Sea

Is most enrag'd with tempests: I for you

Would scorn all danger, but the loss of honour

I cannot bear.

Cam.

Nor could I e're esteem

One that would hazard that; but to be just

And honourable, you should end this fewd.

'Tis the most brutal custome of our Countrey

For Families to fight they know not why:

Beasts are more civil, for they never quarrel

But for necessity of nature: Good Marcello

Is willing to contract a Friendship with you,

And would on that condition give his Sister

Who's young, and they who have seen her say she's fair,

And all conclude her rich and vertuous,

This Sister he would give in marriage to you.

Lor.

How! marry one o [...] his accursed Race?

I'd sooner take one sick of the Plague and keep

My Nuptials in a Pest-house. There's no yoke

Which the most savage Tyrant could impose

I would not sooner bow my servile neck to.

Cam.

Ah what hope

Poor lost Camilla now remains for thee!

[aside.

Lor.

But for the life of base Marcello Madam

[Page] You are the most improper Orator,

Can a scorn'd Lover hear his cruel Mistress

Pleading for his successful, hated Rival,

And not be more enrag'd against him for't?

Cam.

He never yet by words or signs made love

To me upon my honour.—Heaven I fear

I shall reveal too much.

[aside.

Lor.

It is too plain you love him. Oh Devil

With what patience can I reflect on that

And let him live an hour?

Cam▪

He has my esteem because I think him generous,

And he's beside a Friend to our Family,

My love he ne're shall have: But 'tis as plain

You have a Mistress who staid his arm from you.

Lor.

No Lady e're could touch my heart but you,

May Thunder strike me dead if e're I lov'd

Before I saw your all commanding beauty,

Which I am resolv'd to perish, or deserve,

If all the service of my life can do it.

Cam.

If you desire to make me credit you,

Meet not Marcello in the wood to morrow.

Lor.

Hah, has his fear made him betray the place.

And time of Assignation, where I was

T' enjoy my enemy? What riddle's this?

Can you be so concern'd, and yet not love him?

Cam.

It is your safety Sir which I consult,

Make me not blush to tell the cause of this.

Lor.

If this be true, as I will ne'r distrust

The words so fair a mouth as yours shall utter,

Say but the cause is love, and tell me who

You are.—let my lips dwell upon this hand for ever.

Cam.

My birth and fortune equal yours,

My honour's yet unblemisht in a [...]ught.

If I can love a man on earth 'tis you.

Gov.

Madam, this is too much, we must be gone.

Lor.

Peace Screech-Owle, or by Heaven I'll strike thee dead

With Curses. Oh let me hear those Sacred words

Once more, that I may think I dream not.

Cam.

I have said too much to one who loves so little.

Lor.

Little!—the vertuous love not heaven so much.

[Page] They know as little of it too, as I

Of you my Heaven.

Gov.

Thou art as impertinent and as inquisitive with me as thy hot-headed Master is with my Mistress.

Vinc.

Perhaps you may be as handsome, and I may have as much reason. Oh let thy splendid face break out upon me sweet, and I will be as full of raptures as my Master.

Gov.

You'l soon be satisfied, as for example.

[she puts up her veil.

Vinc.

Benedicite, I am satisfied thou hast punisht me enough. By heaven a Succubus: Thou Scare-crow to preserve that goodly fruit.

Gov.

Sawcy fellow, I hope my face deserves better than yours.

Vinc.

If e're I trouble thee with love again, maist thou confound me, and consent.

Cam.

Grant me but this request, and on my honour

Next enterview which shall be suddain, you

Shall know my name.

Lor.

How is my nature lost, how soft I'm grown!

By heaven I cannot disappoint my enemy,

And yet by all the sacred powers above

I never can deny thee ought.—But yet my honour.

Cam.

False Braves alone are jealous of their honour,

The true are still assur'd they cannot lose it.

Or grant me this, or I'll conclude you love

So little, 'twill not be worth my seeing you again,

And I will ne'r attempt it.

Lor.

Say not so.

My life, my honour, all I have is yours,

You shall dispose of all, and I'll obey you.

I will not meet him, though I had much rather

See him in opposition with his Sword

Than have the fairest Lady but your self

Within my arms in dalliance.

Cam.

Strange passion of revenge! and I'll not trust it.

I have another way yet to prevent their meeting.

Since you are pleas'd to promise you'll not meet,

I take my leave for a short space of time.

Lor.

Why should we ever part?

Cam.

It must be now.

Lor.

First let me kiss thy hand, once more, again, again,

Why should I ever leave it?

[Page]Cam.

Farewell my good Lorenzo, I was saying Dear Lorenzo.

Hold, if you dog me, I'll never see you more.

Vinc. ready to dog her.

Gov.

Farewell Todpool, Toad, Monkey.

Vinc.

Farewell Hag, Night-mare, Scarecrow, Mawkin, &c.

[Ex. Cam. Gov.

Lor.

Heaven, with what pangs she leaves my soul!

That in its last flight will not leave my body

In half so bad.

Methinks she tears my heart-strings, as she goes,

I feel her pulling at'em. But what, have

I promised not to meet my enemy;

To lose my honour and revenge for one

I know not? I was not my self, my madness

Made it. Perhaps she may be one

That's prostituted to the vile Marcello.

By heaven I lye, it cannot be, she is

Divine, the Saints we pray to are not half

So beautiful, or holy.

[Enter a Messenger with a Letter.

Mess.

Are you Lorenzo?

Lor.

I am.

Mess.

Marcello sends you this, I lye, but 'tis no matter, I am well paid for lying, and I believe 'tis for pimping too.

[aside.

Lor.

reads.

My mind is changed, and I will meet this night at eight by the Great Oak in the neighbouring wood, 'tis Moon-light. If I hear not from you, I will conclude that you consent to it.

Marcello.

Mess.

What answer Sir?

Lor.

There needs none, there's something for you.

[Ex. Mess.

Luc [...]y above my wishes,

I only promis'd not to meet to morrow,

I am free, and I will haste to my revenge.

[Enter Julia.

Sister whither are you going?

Iulia.

No farther, I came to meet you at your coming in.

Lor.

Iulia I have news for you.

Iulia.

What's that dear Brother?

Lor.

I have appointed time and place to meet

My mortal enemy Marcello, and suddenly

All our vexatious Quarrels will be ended.

I know the bravery of thy spirit makes thee

[Page]Hate that cursed race, and [...]

With me.

Iulia.

Heaven send a good end.

Lor.

Do not distrust my courage or my fortune.

Iulia.

When and where, is this meeting to be?

Oh my Marcello!

[aside.

Lor.

Hah, she sighs, I must not trust her tenderness,

Inquire no more, 'twill not be long.

Iulia.

I see a paper in his pocket, perhaps it contains

The appointment: forgive my theft.

[aside.

When e're you meet may heaven preserve my

[To him.

Dearest brother.

She embraces him and takes the note out of his pocket.

Lor.

Thanks my Iulia, let's in.

Iulia

reads.

What's this? To night in the neighbo [...]ring wood by the great Oak. Heaven, how shall I find this out.—Hold, I shall be observed.

[Ex. Lorenzo and Iulia.

Enter Antonio and Lucinda in Paulina's house.

Ant.

Think Mada [...] if Paulina discovers my deceit, how we shall be defeated, what e're my tongue may utter, my eyes will tell her plainly whom I love.

Luc.

We women are vain enough to interpret all to our advantage, as perhaps I do when I believe you.

Ant.

To put you out of doubt, this night I will contrive your escape, and to morrow a Priest and you may make me happy, I have sent to my Friend Marcello to be in readiness, in hope that I might perswade you to this reasonable proposal.

Luc.

Is it reasonable then to run away with a Gentleman at the second Interview?

Ant.

Rather than to be [...]lapt into a Nunnery before the third Interview.

Luc.

'Tis fit we should try mens tempers first, and what they can bear, be coy, and use them scurvily beforehand, for they are sure to use us so afterwards.

Ant.

Our Italian Marriages are made for interest, but mine with you would be for love, and to assure you of it, I could wish you were a Beggar.

Luc.

I am like to be little better, if I marry without my Fathers consent, and he'll not give it because his paying a good portion to me may be an objection of the Widow against his Marriage.

[Page]Ant.

Ah Madam, I would have you come all love and no money into my Arms. Our Italian Ladies in love matters use to be so wise to consider that opportunities are but few, think of a perpetual prison, Hair-smocks, Midnight Prayers, lying on Matts alone, Green Sickness, and continual Chalk-eating.

Luc.

These are terrible things, and you being less terrible, I cast my self upon you.

Ant.

My dear incomparable Lucinda!

Luc.

None of your raptures, those are alwayes short-lived affections, that shew themselves that way.

Ant.

My love is as immortal as my soul.

[Enter Circ.

Oh here's my Man, what news?

Cir.

As soon as I had received the honour of your Command, I did forthwith repair with all the haste that was decent for a Florentine of that Gravity and Education that I pretend to, to the house of Don Marcello, which I soon found at that time did not circumscr [...]be its Master: the noble Pater Familias being lately sallied forth upon some important affair, which at that particle of time urged his absence from his own Mansion—

Ant.

Thou eternal Rogue, the presence of my Mistress saves thy life.

Cir.

But to proceed, departing from this Mansion almost in despair

Ant.

Rogue—

Cir.

Of any opportunity that might present itself of my encountring with the noble Gentleman to whom my Embassy was then addressed—

Ant.

Villain—

Cir.

I applied my self to a more gentle and deliberate motion, uncertain where I should guide my wandring steps to the attaining of my wish'd for end.

Luc.

Most eloquent impertinence!

Cir.

And though I must confess with anxiety enough duly weighing the emergency of your occasions, yet I could not retain my self from reflecting with pity on the erring and illiterate vulgar: who wanting the unspeakable benefit of education and literature were little better than so many two-legg'd beasts wandring up and down within the several walks of this fair Urbane Forest.

[Page]Ant.

Dog, Rogue; incorrigible Rascal, there's a reward for your Damn'd Rhetorick.

Cir.

Alas Sir, these unseemly blows do you more harm than me, in as much as they betray your want of Philosophy.

Ant.

Again Villain.

[beats him again.

Cir.

Are these the Guerdons due to eloquence, which might most justly claim its wreaths of Laurel?

Ant.

Of Laurel! wreaths of Indian Cane, which thus Sir I confer upon you.

Luc.

Hold Sir, he is distracted, this is not the way to cure him, let him be bled and dieted.

Cir.

Is she barbarous too?

Ant.

Madam, I ask your pardon for the rudeness his impertinence provokes me to; but sirrah tell me what Marcello said to you or by Heaven I'll kill you.

Cir.

I had indeed at last post varios casus, post tor dis [...]rimin [...] reru [...], a vision of Marcello, but he whether possest with more important thoughts, or rather diverted by an encounter with a Nymph, who is a person—

Ant.

Well Dog, I shall not know, be gone and see my face no more.

Enter Albricio.

Albr.

Sir, I beg pardon for intruding thus upon you, but my Master not being able to find out your mans meaning has sent me to know what service you would command him.

Ant.

Desire him if possible to put off his Journey into the Countrey to night: for I have a business of the greatest consequence in the world to me, which will require his assistance.

Albr.

I will tell him instantly.

[Ex. Albricio.

Cir.

What a vulgar and illiterate Fellow's this!

Ant.

Now Madam, with the assistance of Marcello we safely shall escape, but do you hear Rogue, see me no more as Master.

Enter Nuarcha.

Nuar.

You are alwayes cruel to my Circumstantio, who is a man of such excellent parts you are not worthy of him: I'll not be kind to you if you use him thus: in the mean time my Lady desires your company to attone for that of Signior Paulo's.

Luc.

I have such a design which I will tell you of, as I'll secure you shall break the marriage, I'll go first, do you follow.

Ant.

I will Madam.

Ex. Lucinda and Antonio.

[Page]Cir.

I will take every occasion by the forelock, whereby I may express my grateful resentments and my services within the narrow Sphere of my Activity.

Nuar.

I must confess I love men of activity, but at the present I will conduct you where we may in a Corner hear. Paulo's Musick, and confer about our mutual affections.

Enter Paulo and Paulina.

Paulina.

You are indeed the gayest young Gentleman of your age that I have met with.

Paulo.

Age, pox of age, your young washy fellows are all Jades, I am tough and will hold out the matrimonial [...]ourney: young Rogues like tender plants wither presently, but I like a Bay tree am green and flourish all the Winter. Here's a [...]ody of Iron.

Paulina.

And a face of brass.

[aside.

Paulo.

Faith Widow I shall be brisk with thee, I wish thou mayest be able to sustain my vigour. Hem, hem, here are lungs for thee, Hah Widow, I am in the flower of my age, come faith let's be merry—fa, la, la, la.

Ah how I love thee my Widow,

Ah how I love thee my dear!

Of Rivals I soon would be rid ho

If thou wouldst but gracious appear.

Ah how I love, &c.

I [...]ade this my self, faith I did.

Enter Lucinda and after Anton [...]o

Pau [...]ina.

Very good, is there no more?

Paulo.

Ah how I love my Paulina

Ah far beyond each living thing.

Honest Paulo would make her his Queen a

If Paulo were once but [...] King.

Ah how I love, &c.

[Page]Hum, [...]h, what say you?

Paul [...].

O, excellent.

Paul [...].

Hah! What a Devil does this young Rogue here?

Ant.

I am bold again to come and kiss your hands, Lovers like Ghosts, will alwayes haunt the place where their Treasure is.

Pauli.

In the time I would not speak to any man, you did seek occasions to express a generous Passion. I was not then, nor am I now insensible of your Flame.

Paulo.

Hah, Flame! Who's that has a flame for my Widdow? I'll burn him in his own Flame, and make a Martyr of him. Da—God, Young Fellow, I'll make thee smoke.

Pauli.

Though, he being here, 'tis no time for Discourse, Yet, I assure you, you shall not find me ungrateful.

Paulo.

Do you know I pretend to this Lady? and that 'tis dangerous to be a Rival to Paulo del Campo.

Ant.

No indeed neither. Alas, old Gentleman, by those white Hairs I see you have one foot in the Grave, and should not think of a young Lady.

Paulo.

Sir, I would have you know I was white at two and twenty; What can you do? What are you good for? Hem, hem; there's Lungs boy; I'll spit with you for Twenty pound: what can you do? can you vault or dance, Fa, la, la, la? I can.

[He dances.

Ant.

Fy, Sir, 'tis unbecoming your Gravity to dance, you are Old, and being Wise should be reserved, lest you should be found to be otherwise.

Paulo.

Old! Thou art a decrepit young Fellow; Widow, have a care of young Sparks; all the Youth of this last Generation are but half-Gotten, born with the Rickets, knock't in the Cradle, starv'd at Nurse, basely Educated, neither with Sense, Learning, or Manners, and grow up at last to be feeble, foolish, positive, confident, idle, debauched Fellows, full of Mercury, and empty of Brains, and of no Use in the Dukedom.

Ant.

Have a care of an old man, with whom you will have the Name of a Wife, but the Office of a Nurse.

Paulo.

Wilt thou not change a young, hot-headed, crazy Wencher, for a sound, solid, sober Husband?

Luc.

One that will keep home, and Sup at home, and after Bed well-warm'd, and wrought-Cap air'd, his Posset-drink turn'd off, enters his Bed, coughs thrice, and goes to sleep.

[Page]Paulo.

Well Jade to a Nunnery to morrow. Had not a man better be sober and civil, and go on a Carriers pace, than make a Post-horse of a Wife?

Ant.

What can those Embers, those Ashes of Love be good for?

Pauli.

A prudent, stay'd man in years, makes a good Husband.

Paulo.

Witness my old Friend Ferdinand, your late Husband.

Ant.

He was of middle Age; but is it fit for this young Lady to nurse up Children with long Beards, and Infants of three Feet, to have a Deaths-head by her instead of a Husband every night?

Paulo.

Dost thou hear, canst thou fight, Sa, sa, sa?

Pauli.

Hold, that I forbid.

Luc.

Heaven deliver me from an old man to my Husband, 'twould grieve me to hear him groan all night for the Gravel, or for the Gout, wrapt in Flannel for his Rheums and Aches, and in the morning to see my Maid sweep away six ounces of my Husbands Lungs with a Besom.

Paulo.

I shall provide you Iron barrs instead of a Wedding Ring, Huswife.

Luc.

Nay, not that my Father is such a one, but an old Husband is good for nothing but for a Wife to foretel change of Weather by.

Paulo.

Will you wrestle a Fall with me, Boy, Scoundrel?

He mimicks wrestling.

Ant.

A Humane weather-glass, a Flesh Barometer, what, take a Husband for an Almanack, the common mark for all Influences; now Taurus hurts his neck, and Pisces makes his feet catch cold.

Paulo.

Young Fellow, Hast thou paid thy Surgeon? I warrant thou art so full of Quick-silver, that all the Gold in the Room is discoloured with the Atomes that fly from thee. Mind him not, Widow, he's a young, silly, flashy Fellow: be wise, Widow.

Pauli.

I warrant you, I'l do what's best for my self.

Paulo.

Nay then, I am thine own, thy hand Widow.

Young Fellow, despair and hang thy self.—Hark,

Fiddles flourish within.

Now my Musick's ready, Widow, pray mind my

Musick, 'Tis very good Musick, in troth.

SONGS. DANCE.

[Page]

Basse

Let Fools consume themselves with fruitles care,

Recit.

And with fond hopes search after empty things,

But Beggars with their Love are happier far,

Than are, without it, the most mighty Kings.

1 Treble

Let all the World beside go pine,

And sigh, and weep, and groan,

2 Treble

To dismal Griefs their Breasts resign,

And with sad, sad Accents moan.

Chorus 2 Trebles and a Basse.

Lovers shall laugh while they shall whine.

1 Treble

Fools for it's self will Treasure prize,

Some dazling Greatness blinds.

2 Treble

Beauty alone can charm our Eyes,

And Love delight our Minds.

Chorus of 3.

Beauty alone can &c.

What is the Use of Wealth or Power

By which they men subdue,

If not in order to gain more

To vanquish Women too.

If not &c.

Beauty's the Sum of all Delight,

Without Love Life were vain.

Th' ambitious Toyl, the valiant Fight,

For these, for these Kings Reign.

Th' Ambitious &c.

They who on these fix their Desires

Go right in Natures way,

All others are but wandring Fires

That lead Mankind astray.

All others &c.

Pauli.

Tis very fine, now let's to Supper.

Paulo.

Prithee send away that Puppy with a Flea in his Ear.

Pauli.

By no Means, he is a civil Person, Antonio, your Company too.

Paulo.

Civil person? a Puppy, a Flash, a Vapour, a Butterfly. Well I'l rout him.

Exeunt Omnes.

ACT IV.
SCENE I.

[Page]

Enter Circumstantio and Nuarcha.

[He [...]isses her first very formally.

Circum.

THERE's Nectar and Ambrosia on thy Lips, enough for Men and Gods to surfeit on.

Nuar.

Good lack a day! but since our Hearts are now made one, what rests but that a Priest to morrow may make us one flesh too.

Cir.

That would be Joy beyond my Oratory to express, but my Affairs being yet tempestuous, let me take Harbour in old Paulo's Service, and then we will consummate. Antonio with whom I liv'd to advise and cultivate him with some politer Arts, being too obdurate to receive Impressions, I have discarded utterly, I did even now insinuate this to Signior Paulo.

Nuar.

Let me alone, I'le do your Business with old Paulo.

Cir.

The Churches Seal shall then confirm our mutual Loves, but I will perish e're I will throw all my good Parts away on her.

[Aside

Enter Paulina and Antonio.

Pauli.

While Paulo is in Discourse with his Daughter, we have some time that's free from Interruption.

Anto.

My Affections I have at large expressed already, and since the Beauteous Creature understands me fully, I hope she will not cast away a faithful Lover.

Pauli.

I for my part shall never Delight in Cruelty.

Enter Paulo and Lucinda.

Paulo.

Prethee my dear Widdow, send this impert [...]nent young Fellow away, I wonder how thou can'st suffer him.

Pauli.

Give me leave to retire a Moment, and I will give him such an Answer, as shall make him press me further in this matter.

[Page]Paulo.

Do so my Dear, and let him go home and hang himself.

Nuar.

Sir this Gentleman who is a great Scholard, and has the most eloquent Tongue, a Tongue tipt with Silver, has a mind to serve you.

Paulo.

I understand as much from himself, and in Troth I take him to be a very pretty Fellow.

Cir.

I suckt my Education and my Literature much from Imitation, and much from Pad [...]a, bred with the ignorant Antonio, who never knew enough to value me; I did—

Paulo.

Introth a very pretty Fellow, hast thou a Certificate from thy Master?

Cir.

Behold here it is in prom [...]in.

Paulo.

These are to certifie you, that Circumstantio

Paulo reads.

served me several years, but I was forc'd to part with him, for a certain immoderate Guilt he has of impertinent Eloquence.

Antonio.

Oh foolish young Fellow! what does he hate Eloquence? I honour it, and do receive thee as a Jewel, but canst thou write as well as thou canst speak?

Cir.

My Stile in writing is much more neat, terse, and polite, than indeliberate speaking can be, which you soon will find, if you please to fix on this occasional Reflection which Meltetique Paper contains some small Diversion of my Thoughts.

Paulo.

Good Faith he speaks gallantly.

[Paulo reads.

Nuar.

Beyond mortal men!

Upon a Magpy sucking of an Hen's Egg, rare I faith, I love these pretty things of Witt.

After the too enticing Charms of a soft and downy Repose, walking abroad one Morning with the beauteous and excellent Clarinda, most noble Theophilus, just as blushing Aurora had left the Bosome of the Deep, and the Sun had with infant Beams begun to smile upon, and dally with the various Beauties of the Spring, and had gu [...]lded and adorned the verdant Meads it chanced that our wandring and indeterminate Steps conducted us into one soe [...]eld and bespangled with Flowers, so beauteous and so fragrant, that we were in Doubt, whether our Sight or [...]melling was [...] with Excess of Pleasure: and all the while the little innocent [Page] Choristers of the Spring, chanted forth their pretty and melodious Caro [...]ls to welcome in Clarinda and the Morning, when loe! on a sudden divinely thus the Nimph broke Silence. Behold most noble Cunophilus, a Beauty in these Meads, which Flora her self would blush at and be proud of, behold how Natures pretty Wildness does exceed all the feeble Endeavours of emulous Art, when her Speech was on the sudden interrupted by the clamorous Importunity of a pretty chattering Animal, which by it's Colour did seem to be of the Dominican Order among the Fowl, and was in Brief a Magpy. At first we considered whether Joy or Anger or what Passion it might be, had surpriz'd the chequer'd Fowl, and caus'd its sudden Extasie, when lo! hard by we spy'd that garrulous and domestick Bird, vulgarly call'd a Hen, which soon became more lowd and sonorous than the other. The Cause of which we soon perceiv'd to be a sudden Joy it had conceived for it's safe and happy Delivery of an oviparous Production, which no sooner had the unopining Bird deserted; but its false and chattering Neighbour leaped hastily on the forsaken Birth. And after making a little Fracture on the too brittle Defence, (I mean the Shell) the gready immoral and voracious Fowl did in a Moment absorb all the precious Liquor it contain'd.

Paulo.

Come my dear sweet Widdow, have you given that foolish Fellow his Answer?

Enter Paulina, Antonio, and Lucinda.

Pauli.

He knows what he must trust to.

Lucin.

Now go about your Business, the size of the Statue fits you exactly.

Anto.

As it were made for me, I can conceal my self within its Hollowness.

Lucin.

You will turn them to Statues e're you have done.

Anto.

Madam I humbly kiss your Hands, Old Gentleman your Servant.

Paulo.

Farewel young Coxcomb.

[Exit. Anto.

Lucin.

'Tis time now to retire, 'tis my Cozens Bed-time.

Paulo.

Let me but see my old-Friend's Statue first.

[Page]Lucin.

I'll draw the Curtain, are you ready A [...]tonio,

Anto. within.

] I am.

Nauar.

Bless me what is the Matter? The Candles burn blew, Oh Heaven I am afraid of Spirits!

Pauli.

They do burn blew, what's the matter?

Cir.

The Tapers shine with a sulphurious Flame, and shed a sickly and unusual Light.

Lucin.

Heaven what will become of us!

Paulo.

I will turn the Statue, Circumstantio stand by me, art a Scholar, the Statue stirs.

Cir.

I am possessed with panick Fear.

Anton.

in the Statue.]

Paulo, Paulo, Paulo.

Nuar.

Ah my dear Circumstantio.

[She runs into his Arms.

Pauli.

Heaven defend us, what Prodigie is this.

Paulo.

O Lord forgive me my Sins, good Widdow pray for me, have you some Holy water to cool the Spirits Courage?

Lucin.

Rather ask hot water to increase your own.

Pauli.

Alas! we are helpless Women, you are a Man, a good old man, if you were a young man laden with Sins, you might with Reason fear: Pray speak to it.

Ant.

Paulo, Paulo, Paulo.

Paulo.

Speak reverend Spirit, speak whence com'st thou, whence art thou, and what disturbs thy Quiet?

Anto.

My Soul commanded for old Paulo's Good,

Against his Sins informs this carved Wood,

I for some years enjoy'd that Womans Bed,

And bound the lovely Living to the Dead;

For which I was to Purgatory sent,

To expiate my Crime [...] [...]unishment.

But if you long for better or for worse,

You should have made a Matrimonial Nurse

Of some old Widdow, who in Country Town,

From Salves and Waters has obtain'd Renown.

She best might fit your Cap, and spitting Sheet,

And ply the Panting Pidgeons to your Feet.

She could with Skill your strengthening Plaister spread,

And by back door relieve your aking head.

Yet Heaven is better pleas'd if you should live

A Widower, and your Lucinda give

[Page]Into some young mans Arms, for that would be

In Virtue best for her, and l [...]st for thee.

Paulo.

Oh! I am wounded to the Heart with fear. Oh! I dissolve, I dye. Has it done speaking?

Nuar.

Yes sure Sir.

Paulo.

I thought my old Friend and School-fellow Ferdinand would not have served me so: What, disswade me from taking a short Lease of his own House? but what must be, must be.

Nuar.

Nay, many times it made mouths, and grinn'd at me, as my old Master used to do in his Fits of the Cholick, yet I never ventured to speak of it till now.

Paulo.

Well, Paulina, there is a man baulk't, I had a zealous Passion for you, and, with the Statues leave, no old man could deserve more than my self; but since a Plenipotentiary comes to forbid the Banes, I must submit. In troth it breaks my heart, it is a hard tryal to my Flesh and Blood, I cannot forbear weeping; the fire within makes my Heart boyl over. Widow, in troth, I design'd you for my comfort, my Bosome Friend, in troth I love you, but what Heaven pleases: In troth I did love you, and hang'd you on my Heart-strings, but no more of that: farewell, sweet Marriage, it mu [...]e henceforth one in a Bed, be the Weather never so cold.

Nuar.

Alas, I pity this poor old Gentleman.

Paulo.

Well, Widow, my Heart glows still, I have not yet conquered my self, in troth I lov'd you, but must love no more.

Pauli.

O yes, you must not deny your Charity, your Friendship and good Wishes upon occasion, as heretofore.

Paulo.

Oh, Widow, remember Paulo, this has been a sad surprize to my poor loving Soul, I shall never forget it, but farewel, I am not well, Widow, I must now take my leave, perchance I may see you no more, this kiss shews that in troth I lov'd you.

Pauli.

Good night to you, Sir, I hope a good sleep and the sure knowledge of the Care Heaven has for you, may settle this disturbance, but I shall not suddenly recover it.

[Page]Lut.

Madam, It were better to let him compose himself a little in my Chamber before he goes, Pray Sir do.

Pauli.

I think nothing better; or if he pleases to stay all night. (I am almost dead with fear) Lucinda, thou shalt lye with me, and thy Father shall lye in thy Chamber.

Paulo.

With all my heart, sw [...]et Widdow, and Circumstantio, thou shalt lye with me. Widdow, in troth I lov'd you, in troth I did, sweet Widdow.

Pauli.

Let's to our Chambers from this frightful place.

Exeunt.

Enter Camilla in the Wood.

Cam.

This is the tree, and this the appointed place

Where my dear Brother is to meet Lorenzo.

Both I would save, or dye for both; oh Love,

How much thy Torments overcome thy Sweets!

And yet nothing can be so terrible

Or full of Danger which thy Proselytes

Will not for thee encounter: I am transform'd

From Woman to a man, a fearful Maid

Grows bold, and dares by the Moons sickly light

T' expose her self alone. Here comes

One this way, sure it is he, my Sex returns,

And I am fearful. How this will end, Heaven knows.

Loren.

This is the time when Death and my Revenge

Shall have their Sacrifice. Were it my Fate,

As I believe it cannot be, to fall

Under Marcello's Sword, I'd bleed contentedly,

Doing my best to vindicate my Fame,

And Death is better far than withering Honour.

The oppress'd Indian did not more abhorr

The place where Spaniards were, than I this Earth

Where vile Marcello triumphs. Who art thou?

I did expect to meet another man.

Does cowardly Marcello send you to beg his Life?

Cam.

He scorns the thought of it: he'll be just to his word.

'Twas I that wrote the Note to change the time,

Being one of his House, I came to speak with thee.

Lor.

Being one of his House, I am come luckily.

To kill thee.

[Page]I came with as much joy to meet my Enemy

As Bridegrooms go to bed. Rash youth,

This great Disparity will make me blush.

Nature has not made thee for fight, but rather

Has shaped thee for my Ladies Page; but yet since

His base Blood runs in thy Veins, I'll let it out.

Cam.

First, let us parlee and perhaps you'l find

Not so much cause as you imagine.

Lor.

Death! Parlee with my Sword in my hand,

And with one of Marcello's cursed Race.

Draw.—

Cam.

I will not draw, till you have heard me speak.

Lor.

I'll make thee draw. Take that young Fool,

He strikes Cam.

For daring to provoke me thus with trifling,

And when thou fightest I'll give thee more

She draws, he wounds her slightly.

For being of that hated Family.

Cam.

No. Thou hast done enough to one who was before so deeply wounded. Heaven preserve Lorenzo.

[She faints.

Lor.

What do I hear? the Youth did bless me sure

Just as he fainted, the small Wound torments me,

And Gratitude returns it on my self.

I'l chafe his Temples to recover him,

Nothing but Fear has made this Agony.

Oh Heaven and Earth, forgive me! 'tis a Woman.

Hah! my unknown Mistress! wretched, damn'd Lorenzo,

Thou art cursed to all Eternity.

Earth swallow me, and let me be forgot.

She's gone, she's gone: Was ever Mortal yet

So cursed as I? feel a Hell within me,

And all the Furies are raging there; O Speak,

My Saint, my Goddess, speak, look up, Is there

No help of Mercy?

Cam.

Lorenzo censure not my Modesty,

'Twas Love to you; and care of good Marcello

That brought me hither, this Wound was kindly given,

There is no other Cure for those my Breast

Received from you before: for I could never

Have enjoy'd Lorenzo.

Lor.

What Riddle's this?

She faints again, Oh dearest Creature stay,

[Page]One Moment stay, the pen [...]tent [...]

Will wait upon there.

Cam.

Oh! no but if you can

[She revives.

Forgive and love one of Marcello's House,

Let me conjure you by my dying Words,

To love Marcello for my Sake.

Lor.

She's gone again, Oh Guardian Angel stay,

And hasten not away your lovely Charge

In Flesh as much Angelick as thy self.

Is there no Hopes, weep Oh ye Heavens, and give

Water to sprinckle on her Face, weep thou

Wretched Lorenzo, but thy Tears are hot

Like thy accursed Rage. There is hard by

A Sovereign Fountain famous for it's Cures,

I'll run and fetch some of it's Water.

[Exit hastily.

Enter Julia in Man's Habit.

Iulia.

This sure is the fatal place of Assignation,

Where the two furious Combatants will meet,

Where I like the renowned Sabin Woman,

With Cries, dishevel'd Hair, and Floods of Tears

Will strive to close their mortal Enmity.

Hard by there dwells an honest Country-man

Whom I have gained to give me safe Retreat,

And rest for some few Hours, if Sleep can bind

The Sense where so much weighty Care doth dwell.

Oh blest Inhabitants of Cottages!

Oh that I had been born some rural Girl,

To have fed my Fathers Flocks with chearful Thoughts

As impolluted as the Chrystal Streams!

There if some Flame had warm'd my tender Heart

With good Assurance I might own my Pain.

Cam.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

Iulio.

Speak, what art thou? For I can ask no more.

Cam.

Help who ere thou art, alas I am robb'd,

And wounded in this Wood.

Iul.

How rob'd? Heaven how I quake!

Cam.

Yes worthy Sir, in Charity

Convey me hence or else I faint again.

[Page]Iul.

How my Limbs tremble, I scarce have Strength

Enough to help you. Hard by my Chariot stands,

I will convey you to a safe Retreat.

Cam.

Thanks noble Sir.

Savage Lorenzo could'st thou wound me, and

Then leave me, I'll never see the more.

Iul.

Come lean on me.

Ex. Julia and Camilla.

Enter Lorenzo.

Lor.

With too much Hast I miss'd my Way, and stay'd

Too long, so much has my Misfortune

Confounded all my Faculties, Oh my Saint

Go not without me, hah, what is she gone?

I left her here: she's dead, and Angels have

Convey'd away her sacred Corps, too good

For Worms to feed on, or has Heaven suffer'd

This lovely Creature to recover Life

Without my Help, who did commit this Crime?

Oh cursed Wretch damn'd beyond Repentance!

Art thou awake, doest thou behold these Trees?

Or dost thou see the bright Moons silver Beams?

Oh hide thy Face, for thou should'st be ecclips'd

In Horror of this Sin.

If Fables feign man for ill Nature

Derived from fiery Flints and stubborn Rocks,

From what hard Metaphor shall fancy draw

Parents fit for Lorenzo: what Floods, what Seas

Can cleanse these bloody hands: if she be

On Earth I'l find her out, if in the other

World I'l follow her, but Ah! alas, I ne're shall see

That happy Place: this Sin will weigh me down.

Ex. Lorenzo.

Enter Marcello with two or three Servants in the Town.

Mar.

This is the place Albricio, where my Friend Anto [...]io appointed us to be.

Albri.

I wonder Sir he is not yet come.

[Page]Mar.

The time seems fit for our Adventure, the Moon is civil, and is just gone down. Who is there?

Ant.

Your Friend Antonio.

Enter Antonio with Servants.

Mar.

Well my dear Friend, let's on, and good Luck to our Enterprize.

Ant.

I am ashamed of engaging my best Friend in any thing of this Hazard, but I had none whom so intirely I could trust as you.

Mar.

You honour me with your Confidence, but injure me, if you think I can value Danger, where my Friend is concerned: he that will not embrace the Perils Friendship draws upon it, ought never to enjoy the Pleasures it brings with it.

Ant.

I know you are a generous Friend, and

The Clock strikes twelve.

the World knows you are a brave Enemy. Hark the Clock strikes, 'tis twelve, 'tis my time, good Luck dear Friend.

Mar.

Fear not, 'tis a noble Cause.

Ant.

Servants stand under the House, while

Lu [...]inda sings in the Window.

you secure the Door, and I go in—hark by Heavens an Angels Voice! 'Tis Lucinda's, this is a Quality I never knew: now for my Sign.

[He strikes upon his Sword Hilt.

Luci.

I hear the Sign, lie by my Lute.

[She descends, Mar. and Ant. go in.

Paulina.

within.

Lucinda where art thou? Foolish Girl,

Go to Bed—ha, there is some Body in the House,

Nuarcha rise—ring the Bell, Thieves, Thieves.

The Scene changes to the Hall in the House.

Luci.

I have set my Cabinet of Jewels here in the Hall, I'll take that and away.

Pauli.

Rings.]

Thieves, Thieves Lucinda, where's Lucinda?

Luci.

Oh ill Fortune! the house is alarum'd, they are coming towards us, the Attempt without doing the thing would undoe me.

[Page]Ant.

Let's away, we are strong enough to defend the Attempt and Action too.

Luc.

No, they will raise the Town, when they miss me, my Father is in the House too, stand you here let your Friend secure the Door. Mind what I do, and be ready for your Cue. They come.

Enter Paulina, Nuarcha, and Servants.

Pauli.

Thieves, Thieves, search every Hole.

Luc.

Oh Madam have a Care whither you go; I was singing and playing upon my Lute, I broke a String and came down for my string-Box which I had left in a lower Room, and there I met the Ghost of your former Husband, Seignior Ferdinand, I cryed out, swounded with the Fright, and your Coming has revived me: For Heavens sake to your Chamber, Madam give me the Candle, Oh it burns blew again.

[Lucinda drops the Candle, the Women shriek, and run about in Confusion.

Ant.

Paulo, Paulo, Paulo,

Pauli.

Ah Heaven bless us.

Lucin.

Now dear Antonio your hand,

Oh Misfortune, another Light.

Enter Paulo with a naked Sword, Circumstantio with a Candle.

Cir.

What may these Disorders portend!

Paulo.

Where are these Theives, Rogues, I'll cut them off in the middle.

Ant.

Paulo, Paulo, Paulo.

[They cry out, the Ghost, again.

Paulo.

Ah, Ah, Benedicite.

He lets fall his Sword, crosses himself and mambles Prayers. Circumstantio lets fall the Light.

Anto.

Paulo, Paulo, Paulo.

Pauli.

Lights there, Lights.

Ant.

Thou must thy amarous Passion quite forgo;

Or suffer dire avenging Flames below.

Paulo.

Oh, Oh, ever honour'd Ghost, I have done with my Love, I do not care for thy Widdow now, I can't abide her, a Pox on her for me, I hate her mortally, I prethee let me rest, the Devil take her for me.

[Page]Ant.

Now all to bed, quiet repose to ta [...]e,

No more shall you b'affrighted for my sake.

Luc.

Now Antonio slip away.

Ant.

A thousand blessings on thy Wit and Beauty.

Mar.

Go on boldly, I'll make good the Rear carry her to my house, my Sister shall wait on her

Exeunt Ant. Luc.

[Marc. and after, all the rest groping.

Enter Camilla and Julia. The Scene a Wood.

Cam.

How much I am indebted, worthy Sir,

To you, in this my great extremity!

My Heart with thanks conceives, and bears me witness

That I shall alwayes pay my gratitude.

Could I but know the kind Author of these

Favours, and hope to be esteem'd his Friend.

Iul.

Sir, I shall endeavour to promote our

Lucky Friendship and mutual knowledge,

After you have reposed some time.

Cam.

Oh Sir!

It is in vain for me to wish for rest

This night, or indeed for ever: but I hope

Providence in mercy designs few dayes

For one whom it decreed unfortunate;

The morning Sun will tell me whether Life

Be worth my Care.

Iul.

Alas, I pity you

For I feel grief to make me sensible.

I would resemblance might allay our pain;

For I as little value Life as you.

My Fortune likewise in this World depends

Upon good Omens, when the Sun shall rise.

Cam.

Your Virtue cannot fail of good success

To crown the goodness you have shew'd to me,

But I shall beg of Heaven to keep you free

From my dire Circumstance, howsoe're

My Lot falls out, may yours (resembling you)

Be kind and fair.

Iul.

Still I deplore you more,

Our Fates appear so parallel, yet here

[Page]I vow, for your so [...]' [...]houghts and tender wishes,

A Friendship firm as Destiny, since you

Please to ask it, with fervent zeal to serve

A Friend, which cannot wrong that Sacred name.

[They embrace.

Cam.

Dear Sir, You make me long for Life, and love

My grief, because in that alone I must

Pretend to equal you, blest be this Grove

Where first we meet, blest be this silent Night

Where we two Friends contracted Friendship first.

These few happy Minutes shall be an Age

To me, and when cold Death (perhaps to Night)

Shall shut my Eyes, I may with Reason say,

This close of Life, has fully recompenc'd

It's sad Beginning, and in Confidence

Of our true Friendship, I will tell my Friend

The great Secret of my Soul, who I am,

And why I hither came.

Iul.

You will excell.

As you deserve, and teach me what I ought

To do, begin my Friend, and whilst you make

Your sad Relation, I will sigh for you,

And you shall do the same for me.

Cam.

Dear Friend

You may remember when you saw me first

I told you that I was robb'd and wounded

And so I was: but 'twas by Love. My Heart

Was stol'n and wounded, by such a Thief

Whose Charms are irresistable, let not

My following Words stagger our Friendship,

I am a Woman.

Iul.

Still may your Words add

Fresh Delight, and so am I; no less robb'd

And wounded than your self: but what

Occasion drew my Friend this way to Night?

Cam.

I cannot speak for Joy, I came to save

The Life of one I prize above the World,

And he loves me as much, you may know him

When I call him Marcello.

Iul.

Oh my Death!

What do I hear? Iulia thou art lost

[...]r ever!

[Page]Cam.

What sayes my Friend?

Iul.

Only remembring what sad Accidents

Lovers undergo.

Cam.

'Tis most true. This Marcello

Has promised to morrow morning to fight

His deadly Enemy, called Lorenzo,

And in that fatal place where you found me;

To quench their Hate in Bloud, my Death would be

A pleasure to save their Lives, to morrow

I am resolv'd to meet them there, Dear Friend,

Will you be there and help me?

Iul.

'Tis too true,

My new Friend is turn'd my Rival, and such

A Rival, whose great merits, my small worth

[aside.

Dares not pretend to ballance. Now I am

Truly wretched, bound in my Soul to love

My Death, and bless my Executioner.

Cam.

Friend, you do not mind me, you seem disturb'd,

Are you not well?

Iul.

Never so ill before.

Cam.

Forbid it, gentle Heaven, where lies your grief?

Iul.

A murdering pain at your last words surpriz'd

My Vitals: 'tis impossible for me

To last out long. Now pointed Tortures shoot

Through every part, oh! give me some relief,

For you are she must help me.

Cam.

Oh, teach me

But the means, and I will dye to serve you.

Iul.

I only beg of you to give your Friend

Some Physick, the best for my Distemper,

I have it here about me.

Cam.

Blest Fortune!

Come give it me, by all that's good I will

Most faithfully apply it.

Iul.

Here, kill me

[She draws her Sword.

This is my Cure, remember your promise,

Start not, it must be so,

If you love your self or me: By my Death

You shall remove your Rival, and confirm

Your Monarchy in Love. Oh! that I had

[Page]Never seen your Face, or else had never

Heard your Story. My Feaver makes me mad,

Pray let me blood.

Cam.

Perdition seize me first—

Oh, my pernicious Fate! put up your Sword.

Can you not love me still?

Iul.

Yes, after Death.

Cam.

And not in Life. Why do you talk of Death?

There is no danger in your Love, 'tis I

Am lost: Yet I could still love you.

Iul.

Farewel.

You break your Oath, and are no more my Friend;

You love to keep me on the Rack: be gone—

And give me not new Torments by your stay.

When the Day dawns, expect me at the Tree

Where both must die, because you kill'd not me.

Exit.

Cam.

Hurry'd with rage, she will not hear me speak,

Oh, that my hated Life might sooner end,

To ease my pains, and cure my pensive Friend.

For what good Omens can attend my love,

Since Friendship does so unsuccessful prove?

Exit.

ACT V.
SCENE I.

The Scene discovers Julia sleeping under a Tree.

Enter Marcello.

Marc.

I Lately saw my Friend Antonio

Made happy in the Marriage of his

Dear Lucinda, which by comparison

Discovers what a Wretch I am: condemned

To pains and fatal Errours; till Death shall free

Me, or my Enemy. And in this Wood

I must expect him and the Sun together.

These Summer days are good Types of Man's Life,

For the most part through Heat insufferable,

[Page]T [...] Morning and the Evening best for Use

And Pleasure, but yet how short! whilst Manhood

Like Mid-day-hours, too much ferments our blood,

And gives long Feavers from our eager Passions.

Iulia.

O stay, O stay!

[She cryes out in her sleep.

Mar.

Who is this that invokes

My pity? a most lovely Youth! sleeping

And yet disturb'd; sure he is full of Grief:

For in his ugly Dream he sighs and weeps

Iulia.

O, Why has sleep

Forsook me! Why could it not last for ever?

Sleep had compassion on me, and by Dreams

Deluded all my Sorrows. My fair Rival

Just now was very kind, she smil'd and seem'd

To give me Joy, I sigh'd and cry'd, because

She fled before she told me how.

Marc.

By Heaven the Voice of my fair unknown Mistress,

It hath perform'd Lorenzo's will, and pierc'd

My heart: each syllable did stab

And burn me in the passage.

Iulia.

'Tis now the break of Day, a fatal Morning!

But I will sing my Troubles to these Woods.

SONG.

'Tis too severe, ye Powers, that Love,

The Noblest Object of the Mind,

Should now so fatal be,

That the sole pleasure of Mankind,

And the chief Ioy of those above,

Should be a Curse to me.

Why should the spightful Stars contrive

That in such Torments I should live?

That I should love the Man that must hate me,

And still pursue impossibility.

Ah, fatal Love! like other fire,

Thy Heat to Objects does impart

Most different Effects,

[Page]Whilst thou dost melt thy soft desire,

Thou harden'st my Marcello's heart,

Till he my Love neglects.

Thy Godhead I with Faith have serv'd,

And have not this from thee deserv'd

Yet, though to me his heart no love can give,

He still might let me in Lorenzo live.

Marc.

Sure my Mistress then is Sister to Lorenzo.

Iulia.

Alas! who is there? who are you?

Marc.

Madam, it is your Creature.

[He kneels.

Iulia.

Who are you? you frighted me.

Mar.

O hear

With Patience, and forgive my crime, I am

Marcello, your Foe Marcello, guilty

Of Death, yet begging Life.

Iulia.

'Tis he, blest Heavens!

It proved a happy fright—Rise Marcello,

And let Lorenzo's Sister kneel to you:

Can you forgive my Brother's daring rage?

And hide some Crimes for head-strong Nature's sake,

Some, for a wretched Sister, some for one

That loves you; Pardon this bold confession

From her that became bold to save you both.

Mar.

Oh Balsom to my wounds! by Providence

That brought me hither, my Love, my Dear, my Soul.

'Tis you have sav'd my Life and Fortunes, You

Can bring eternal Quiet to my Mind.

By Heaven I value Life only for you,

And love you far above it.

Consider Sir before you speak, I am

Lorenzo's Sister.

Mar.

And I'll be for ever

Lorenzo's Friend, I can no more fight with him

Than with my Father, were he now alive.

[...]'ll meet him unarm'd and catch him with Arms

Of Friendship, sure he cannot hurt the breast

Which you blest Image guards.

Iulia.

The time draws near

Which proves my Happiness, and your Virtue.

[Page] [...]arcello how can your appear so cruel

With false Hope to deceive a harmless Maid?

You'l find a much more potent Guard to save you,

My charming Rival, she expects you there,

She will preserve you safe from Injury.

Mar.

Oh! Madam be not cruel in mistrusting me,

Iulia.

Nothing in Nature is so wild, but grows

Gentle before her, and lays down it's Fierceness

At her feet, nay she makes me love her, who

Have most Cause to hate her, and when I had

Her in my Power, I had no Power to hurt her.

Mar.

This is wonderous strange! by all my present

And my future Hopes, I understand you not.

My Breast now feels its Virgin-Flames, which ne're

Can be extinguish'd.

(hasten from you

Iulia.

Time gives us leave to talk no more, but bids me

To the fatal place, where I soon shall meet

You, but I charge you if you love me now,

Do not pursue me too close.

Exit Iulia.

Mar.

When you command I will obey even Ruin.

Now by my strange Captivity I prove

My former Sins against the Power of Love:

In sharpest Tortures without Hopes to gain

Through so much Doubt, an end of so much Pain.

Exit.

Scene turns to Paulina's House

Enter Paulo and Paulina.

Paulo.

Now Widdow 'tis clear, what is become of my most undutiful Baggage, and yours too, if Heaven and the Statue had so pleased. It seems your Skip-Jack Antonio was about the House, for he was seen by your Coachman as he thinks, to go out of the Door in her Company.

Pauli.

'Tis very strange, and it vexes me no less than it does you, what should be the meaning of it? But if Antonio is concern'd in it, without Doubt Circumstantio and the Officers may discover them.

Paulo.

The Meaning of it is plain now upon second Thoughts, but if your civil Antonio be concern'd in it, cannot [Page] you guess that no young Wench runs out at Midnight with a young Fellow, but she has a mind to eat Flesh with the Fryers Leave? I pray God it proves no worse. I ever told you Widdow, that these young Fellows were never without their Rogues Tricks.

Pauli.

He has rais'd a strong Jealousie in my Head, which I never thought of before.

[Aside.

Enter Nuarcha.

Paulo.

Well Mistress Nuarcha what News of my Daughter? have the Officers and Circumstantio discovered where she may be?

Nuar.

Sir, Circumstantio is just return'd to give us an Account, Having been all night about it.

Enter Circumstantio.

Paulo.

Well good Circumstantio let me beg of thee to be as brief as thou can'st, what is become of my confounded Daughter?

Cir.

Ah Sir exerce Patientiam, for my Relation do [...] require it above Mode and Figure.

Paulo.

I know it will, but prithee at this time be very plain.

Cir.

What Sir, shall it be said that Circumstantio speaks without Embroidery.

Pauli.

Ah! Good Circumstantio oblige me so far, as to tell me if you have found her, and in whose company.

Cir.

Well, Madam, If I must do violence to my self and Rhetorick, and take a sorrowful farewel for some time of my familiar Tropes, it shall be the less injurious to my Reputation, since 'tis in obedience to the Commands of so hyperbolick a Lady, to whom my depositions bear a particular respect.

Paulo.

I charge you to tell forthwith what you can say of my Daughter, where she is, and what is become of the Off-Officers, upon the penalty of a Quarters Wages; dost hear Fellow? though I love Eloquence very well, yet now 'tis very unnecessary in these Circumstances.

[Page]Cir.

Ah, gentle Sir! May Heaven forgive the rashness of your Expression: what, can Eloquence be unnecessary? but to imitate some well-designing Poet, I shall begin in the middle of my Story, and declare the former part in some succeeding Narrative.

Paulo.

Pox on you, you will distract me, what is become of my Daughter?

Cir.

Gentle Madam and ungentle Sir, to come to the so much desir'd Proposition. Your Daughter I declare categorically is no more Lucinda, she is chang'd, she is alter'd, she is metamorphosied.

Paulo.

How! What do'st thou mean thou man of Ambiguity? How changed?

Cir.

Yes reverend Sir, she is chang'd, there is a Transmutation, or rather a Transcorporation.

Paulo.

Into what, good Circumstantio?

Nuar.

Yes, yes, do you think this Ghost came for nothing?

Paulo.

But prithee, young Fellow, explain thy self.

Cir.

What Mortal, endued with natural prescience could have had prospect of this most affecting alteration in the beginning, or à parte ante as the School-men sweetly phrase it. O most occult Antonio, I must confess I never did rightly conceive thy Antoneity.

Pauli.

He names Antonio and makes me almost mad with Fear.

Paulo.

Prethee Fellow do not distract me, at your Peril.

Nuar.

Good honey Circumstantio, discover your meaning for Love's sake.

Cir.

Forbear your Arms of Concupiscence, Pace vestra dixisse liceat, there is a Change, Lucinda is changed, Antonio is changed. Proh Deum atque hominum fidem!

Paulo.

Dost thou hear Fellow, God I will not suffer thee longer.

Nuar.

Ah prethee dear Bird save thy Nuarcha's Longing.

Cir.

Why then Quaeso animos Advertite, they are neither He nor Shee, but both from henceforth, by the Application of a Fryer, Antonio and Lucinda are fastned together about the Middle, and here they are.

[Page] Enter Antonio and Lucinda.

Antonio.

Sir in all Duty I desire your Blessing.

Lucinda.

And I beg your Blessing on us both.

They kneel to Paulo.

Pauli.

O most false of Mankind!

[Aside.

Paulo.

What do you mean you impudent Runagate, what Change is this?

Lucinda.

Sir it is for better for worse. This Gentleman is my Husband, I am glad with all my Heart that he has rescued me from a Nunnery, which terrified me as much as the Ghost did you.

Paulo.

Out upon thee, thou incontinent profane Baggage, what think of Marriage in that very Moment, when the dead declaim'd against it?

Lucinda.

Yes Sir they dissuaded you, but I thank them I found good Friends in Purgatory, and took the first Opportunity to obey their Counsel.

Pauli.

How dar'st thou look me in the Face, thou base perfidious man?

Ant.

Madam, I blush, I must confess after my Falshood to behold your Face, but my violent Love to Lucinda (since by no other Means I could approach her) forc'd me to it.

Pauli.

Was I a fit Property? must I be thus abus'd?

Antonio.

You might have perceiv'd the Love I seemed to make to you was all the while address'd to her: pardon the Extravagance of my Love, for next to my Lucinda, there's not one on Earth I have more Honour for, and if all the Service of my Life can but attone my Crime with you, I then shall dye contented.

Pauli.

Think not false Wretch I'll honour thee so much as to be angry, I cast thee from my Heart and Memory, and spoil thy Triumph, O thou base Companion of my Solitude, and Partner of my Secrets false Lucinda.

Exit Paulina

Paulo.

Widdow I thank thee for being so angry in my Concern, it shews thou lovest me, Pox on the Ghost I say, what gone on a sudden—come hither you young Fellow, that will be my Son whither I will or no? How durst you marry my Daughter—ha—well sauce Box since you have her, and I can't take her from you, here take her,—but do you [Page] mark me, As her Mother gave her me—naked—without a penny of Portion, since your Stomach is so good, you shall eat your Meat for me without any Sauce, in troth—

Ant.

Sir, I am contented.

Lucind.

I hope Sir, you will give me a Wedding Dinner.

Paulo.

Yes, perhaps I may give you a Wedding Dinner, since you have rid me of so much trouble in finding another Keeper. Ah! what a happy man had I been if the Ghost of old impertinent Ferdinand had not been giving Advice to night, freed of my skittish Daughter, and in an hopeful way for my Widdow, but the Will of Heaven be done.

Nuar.

A right Godly old Gentleman!

Paulo.

Well, I will pluck up my old courage, and give consolation to the disturbed Widdow.

Exit Paulo.

Nuar.

Madam, Heaven bless this happy change to you; indeed you have surprized us very much.

Lucind.

I thank you, good Nuarcha. I hope your change will come suddenly.

Nuar.

When the accomplisht Circumstantio pleases.

Cir.

Sir, Injuriarum remedium est oblivio. May Hymen and Venus look propitiously upon you, and conferr upon you Infinity—

Ant.

Thanks, good Circumstantio, no more Speeches to night, I beseech you. Come, dear Lady and Mistress, your hand.

Lucind.

Here, dear Lord and Master, with my Heart to boot.

Exeunt.

The Scene turns to the Wood and Tree.

Enter Camilla.

Cam.

How my Heart beats, and calls up my Passions,

My Hope, my Fear, my Love, my Jealousie.

Enter Julia.

Iul.

You are here before me—

Cam.

I am here to serve you, and to assure you

I am that Friend I once pretended, and

Am here to give you to the hand of him

[Page]I love, and beg one favour for so rich

[...].

Iulia.

Ah, my charming Sophister!

You know your Beauties strength, and so would put

The Prize upon too unequal Combat.

I in this Cause can fight, and boldly dye.

Injurious Rival, draw thy Sword, and free

[She draws.

Me or thy self from Jealousie and pain.

Enter Marcello.

Mar.

A [...], [...]adam, why do you unsheath your Sword,

When Life [...] [...]eath depend upon your Eyes?

Iulia.

O [...] Marcello, there you mean these words;

On those Eyes Life and Death depend—oh, turn

A way, and look not on her, for that face

Will make you fals [...], if you be not already!

Mar.

Sure I should know that Face—Camilla,

C [...].

Even she,

Who changed her Habit to preserve Marcello.

Mar.

Camilla, How I love thee for this Action!

[He embraces her.

Iulia.

Marcello, Can you so soon

Deride your Vows and me?

Mar.

Mistake m [...] not.

My happiness, when you know her to be

My vertuous Sister, you will love with me.

Iulia.

Ten thousand Blessings on that name, it gives

Me Heaven on Earth. O pardon me, my Friend!

O pardon fierce Lorenzo's unknown Sister,

[She runs to her.

And place her in the state from whence she fell.

Cam.

O Joys which Angels fell! O blest Brother!

By such an unexpounded Miracle,

I could hold my dearest Friend for ever

In my Arm [...], [...] (with Reason)

Would not chide.

Mar.

I will thus embrace you both,

And with these two impenetrable Shields

Will meet Lore [...]zo.

[Page] Enter Loren [...]o.

Iulia.

Such unexpected Joy must hurt

Like Grief.

Loren.

The Sun ne're shin'd on such a Wret [...]h as me,

My Mistress wounded, nay, for ought I know

Kill'd by this hand, and the sweet Body lost.

My Strength decays, and Life feels Winter in

My chilly Veins: a Child would now disarm me.

How d [...] I meet Marcello at this time?

How does his Genius baffle mine?

Weary of Life and sick of my few Minutes?

I needs must bow beneath his just Revenge.

Mar.

See Lorenzo approaches, but he does seem

To have more of Sorrow than of Anger in him.

Loren.

What do my wretched Eyes behold?

My Mistress in Marcello's Arms?

Giving my Foe by Looks, and hand her Heart.

O stabbing Object! plac'd there to compleat

My Sorrows. Now it is time to dye, but not

Without Marcello's Company. That Sigh

Boils up my Blood within me, and swells my Rage

Like a swift Torrent beyond Banks and Bounds,

I will speak and turn him to an Eunuch.

Marcello view this Sword, whose Sight may chill

Thy hot Desire, what can'st thou think of Love

In Death, how dar's [...] thou touch that Beauty

Which only I must worship?

Draw short liv'd Wretch and try thy feeble Right.

Cam.

O Dear Lorenzo pacifie your Wrath

Towards Marcello for his Sister Sake,

She lays hold on him, and kneels.

Who loves you and came here to tell you so,

Camilla will not rise nor let you go,

Unless you promise Peace.

Iulia,

O' dear Brother,

Imitate my tender Mothers Mildness

She lays hold o [...] him, and kneels.

And be not altogether the Picture

Of my furious Father: For Iulia's Sake

[Page]Whom you have often said you dearly lov'd,

Proffer and take Marcell [...]s Amity,

For he loves me, and I love him as much.

Cam.

Speak gently, and do not kill your Lover,

Iulia.

O calm your Breast, and then you'l give us Comfort.

Lor.

I am amaz'd at this surprizing Sight!

And this strange Riddle of Happiness! it is

My lovely Mistress, with my much lov'd Sister,

But how these Impossibilities should meet

My mind cannot unfold! O Providence!

How dark are all thy ways? And yet how kind?

Doubling all Favours by their great Surprize.

O! rise good Angels both, and pardon this

Forgetfulness. Such Wonder takes away

My Sense, alass forbear your Fears, the Storm

Within my Breast is now laid on a sudden,

My Soul is alter'd, or a new one given,

O let me go, ye Glories of your Sex

Who have aton'd the Sins, all Women kind

As ever yet committed. Forgive my Faults

Marcello, for my beloved Sisters sake,

I embrace you with the same Zeal as Friends

Meet after Storms and Battels, O Marcello

Wipe away past Records, and take your Friend

Regenerated.

Mar.

Brother Lorenzo

Let me plead in your words: Remember not

Marcello as he was, but as he is.

And when you think of him, at the same time

Think of his happy Sister good Camilla.

Cam.

Yes happy indeed in such kind Brothers,

This place though we must leave it now, deserves

It's Consecration, and should be yearly

Visited. But now how shall we get home,

For the bright day recalls my Sex to mind?

Iul.

I brought a Coach last Night with me to serve

One of you, who for his Wounds might use it.

[Page]Mar.

Still you deserve more thanks, it may bring

Us to my Cousin Paulina's where both may change

Their Habits.

Cam.

Well mentioned, and as we go

Explain our Stories, and their strange Success.

Lor.

Beauteous Camilla, canst thou pardon one

So barbarous, so inhumane as I was?

To wound my Mistris, Oh, this cursed Arm!

But, had I known my Saint, I sooner would

Have torn my Heart out. On my knees I beg

Your Mercy, the Damn'd have not suffered worse pains

Than all this night have wrack'd my tortur'd Breast.

Cam.

Rise, dear Lorenzo, it was but a scratch by a mistake,

I know it.

Lor.

I went to fetch some Water from your Fountain,

And I had lost you: then my Pangs—

Cam.

No more, this happy Agreement has heal'd all,

And every one had a worse wound than this.

Lor.

In Nature as in Form thou art an Angel.

All Griefs and Enmities far hence remove,

And let us consecrate the rest of Life to Love.

[Exeunt.

Enter Circumstantio, and after him Nuarcha.

Nuar.

My dear and constant Circumstantio, I am glad I have met you.

Cir.

Why? what Novel, or Business of importance do you bring?

Nuar.

The greatest of my Life; I have been seeking of you all over the House, being stirr'd up by the good and happy Example of Lucinda, and your late Master Antonio, to confirm my happiness, and I shall endeavour to make it yours by the mouth of a Priest, this sweet inviting Morning.

Cir.

'Tis a very ill juncture for so weighty an Affair. Abi—& suspende te.

Nuar.

Well, Delight of my Eyes, I admire you, though I understand you not; but dearest Dear, what do you mean by this?

[Page]Cir.

Mrs. Nuarc [...]a, you are a Person upon whom I design to bestow—

Nuar.

A thousand Blessings on my most lovely Love—

[She embraces him.

Cir.

Forbear, I say, and cool this amorous Flame. To be short, and to affect Laconick brevi [...]y, Mrs. Nuarcha, as I was saying, you a Person that I am forbidden to marry.

Nuar.

Oh! where shall a poor Maid find Fidelity, if Circumstantio prove unfaithful?

Cir.

Hear me, I say, and with pri [...]ked up Ear attend to my Ratiocination.

Nuar.

I will hear nothing but Marriage. O unfortunate Maid, to place confidence in man!

Cir.

Cease your objurgatory Language. For, Heac commemoratio, quasi exprobratio est; I have a great Respect for you; but for several reasons am much deterred from Marriage. Ask the performance of any Command rather than this Entreaty of necessitous Conjunction Copulative.

Nuarc.

I will ask nothing but Marriage—

Cir.

Put a Bridle I say upon your immoderate desire.

Here comes your Lady with other Company.

Enter Paulo, Paulina, Antonio, Lucinda.

Paulo.

Well, Widdow, I am glad to hear your Noble Resolution, not to concern your self with Mankind, and I rest pretty well satisfied, that since I could not have you, that no Body else shall. Widdow, I believe it is for my sake— Ha,—Widdow! yet we might comfort one another by the by, the Ghost did not forbid that.

Pauli.

It's a very hard thing to find your Constancy without your Years, I believe Sir; and therefore I bid Marriage farewel.

Paulo.

Yes, yes, and so will I take my leave of Marriage, 'tis time for me, in [...]roth W [...]ddow: but I shall always take delight to visit you now and then, Widdow, and take [Page] a caper or two in your Parlour—Ha, Widdow,— that, I presume, my old Friend Ferdinand will admit of.

Pauli.

You take a prudent course, Sir, I shall follow your Example, be Mistress of my self; free from the Treachery of any Governour.

Paulo.

Widdow, in troth I rejoyce at this bravery of Spirit, and in token of it I jump for joy.

[He jumps.

Luc.

Antonio, Your Widdow bears her loss of you with great indifference.

Ant.

You see, Lucinda, how small your prize is.

Luc.

I value it the more because I shall possess you absolutely without fear of a Rival.

Paulo.

Well, This new Son of mine, Antonio, puts me in mind of my self, when I was at his Years, I had my tricks then as well as the best of them. I was once in the mind to have stollen that Baggages Mother just so from her Father's House, when he made a dispute with me about Articles. Since the Widdows Resolution has thus pleased me, my good nature returns; I will forgive him. Come hither, Antonio.—

Ant.

Sir, Your pleasure.

Paulo.

Sirrah, you are a Wag, a very Wag, I believe, but I forgive you. Come hither, Hussy,—you are a Wag too, so there's Wag for Wag—Get you together in Gods Name; and remember, Antonio, when thou mak'st me a Grand-father, I will settle a good Estate upon the little Raseal.

Anton.

S [...], I will deserve your Favours by my Industry.

Paulo.

Well, you are a Wag introth.

Enter N [...]a [...]cha.

Nuar.

Oh, Madam, I bring you the strangest News, be [...]yond belief. Your Co [...]en Marcello, and Lorenzo, with two other young Gentlemen, are coming up.

Ant.

How [...]

[...].

'Tis impossible!

[Page] Enter Marcello, Lorenzo, Camilla and Julia.

Mar▪

I hope Cousin Paulina, that you will easily excuse me for this early Trouble, when I have told you it's Occasion, and the solid Happiness that is befallen me and my Family; These two in mens Cloaths, are the perpetual Ornaments of your Sex, this is Iulia my ador'd Mistress, Sister to my beloved Friend Lorenzo; this is my Sister Camilla most happy in her Lorenzo's Love.

Pauli.

This Surprize is as welcome as 'tis wonderful, and does no less astonish us than the strong Accidents that have happened to us on our side last night; but in Civility I should refer my asking Questions to our better Leisure, and at present wish nothing but continual Joy to my Cousins.

Cam.

Oh! Cousin I am this Morning the happiest Woman in the World, who was last Night the most unfortunate.

Iulia.

And give me Leave to be your Sister even in both Extremities of good and bad Fortune.

Lucin.

May Heaven continue every day like this.

Anton.

Marcello you amaze your glad Friend with the Strangeness of your Story, who most rejoyces that Heaven rewarded you so soon with Love, for assisting him in his.

Marc.

I succeeded the better in being any way serviceable to you and your Lucinda, pray know the worthy Lorenzo.

Ant.

Lorenzo shall always command my Life, since he calls Marcello Brother.

Lorenzo.

After the name of Lorenzo's Brother, I cannot find any more pleasing than that of Friend to Antonio.

Cir.

The Learned observe that the mind of man in great Passions of Joy and Grief cannot curiously attend the El [...] quence of Speaking. Ergo, I will defer my complemental Entertainment, till I have woven my Thoughts into an Epithalamium.

Paulo.

In Troth this Sight is almost as strange as our Apparition to night, and silences me almost as much. The Devil take the Ghost for me, that all should speed in the Flesh but [Page] I and the Widdow. Well, what must be, must be. Yet I am heartily pleased for two Reasons, first, to see these old Quarrels between two good Families so handsomly ended. And then that my Son in Law carries himself so prettily amongst 'em. In Troth I find he is a pretty Fellow, and in Troth you are all pretty Fellows, and may you all live to be as lusty as I am, at my years—Hem—There's your Lungs in Troth.

[He Hems.

Mar.

Antonio you have a merry Father in Law, but Cousin Paulina, let me beg you to assist our Mistresses in changing of their Habits as soon as you can, and let me beg the same Favour of Lucinda.

Lucinda.

Marcello has laid such an Obligation upon me, that I can never deny him any thing.

Loren.

I would most willingly see dear Camilla in a Womans Dress, for in this she still seems to upbraid my last Nights Inhumanity.

Pauli.

Well Gentleman you shall be forthwith oblig'd whilst my Cousin's in Recompence shall relate us their Stories.

Marc.

Thanks good Paulina, and in the mean time Antonio and we will explain to one another what has happened.

For in such Happiness 'tis new Delight,

To tell the Ioys of this successful Night.

[Exeunt.

FINIS.

EPILOGUE
Written by Mr. Shadwel▪ Spoken by Mrs. Barry.

[Page]

OH! How severe is our poor Poets Fate!

Who in this barren Trade begins so late.

True Wit's no longer currant, 'tis cry'd down,

And all your half-wits into knavery grown.

Those who once lov'd the Stage, are now in years,

And leave good Poets for dull Pamphleteers;

Nay, for the worst of Rascals, Libellers.

In none of these will the young Sparks delight,

They never read, and scorn all those that write.

They only come the Boxes to survey,

Laugh, roar, and bawl, but never hear the Play.

In Monkey's tricks they pass the time away,

At least, the Poet hopes, th've done to day.

The Graver sort, he's sure, have so much Sense,

That they'l ne're damn him for his first Offence.

He may take warning, and fling off this Itch,

That does poor Poets Hearts so much bewitch,

And, in a duller way, drudge and grow rich.

Ye have no harden'd Malefactor here;

He ne're before did at this Bar appear.

If he should suffer, the first time he's in,

'Twere hard, as for a Girl, fresh, at six [...]een,

To meet, at the first Venture, the mishap

To lose her Maidenhead, and get a Clap.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

The loving enemies a comedy : as it was acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre / written by L. Maidwell.

Maidwell, Lewis, 1650-1715.

Edition statement

1680

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-05 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A51422

ID [STC]

Wing M284

ID [STC]

ESTC R10838

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

13114988

ID [OCLC]

ocm 13114988

ID [VID]

97737

Availability

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

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A51422)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 97737)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1641-1700 ; 427:5)

Source

— The loving enemies a comedy : as it was acted at His Highness the Duke of York's Theatre / written by L. Maidwell., Maidwell, Lewis, 1650-1715., Shadwell, Thomas, 1642?-1692. Virtuoso..

Extent

[6], 74 p.

Printed for John Guy ...,. London :: 1680.. (Borrows from Shadwell's The virtuoso.) (Written by Lewis Maidwell, whose name has been given variously as Lawrence and John Maidwell. Cf. Venn, J. Alum. cant.; Summers, M. Playhouse of Pepys, 1935, p. 434-436; BM; Baker, D.E. Companion to the play-house, 1764, v. 1.) (Reproduction of original in Cambridge University Library.)

Creation

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