The perjur'd husband: or, the adventures of Venice. A tragedy. As it is acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane. By His Majesty's servants. Written by Mrs. Centlivre Centlivre, Susanna, 1667?-1723. 72 600dpi bitonal TIFF page images and SGML/XML encoded text University of Michigan Library Ann Arbor, Michigan 2008 September 004798040 T26882 CW110074790 K032330.000 CW3310074790 ECLL 0058900900

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The perjur'd husband: or, the adventures of Venice. A tragedy. As it is acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane. By His Majesty's servants. Written by Mrs. Centlivre Centlivre, Susanna, 1667?-1723. 68,[4]p. : ill. ; 12⁰. printed for W. Feales, London : 1737. Titlepage in red and black. With two final leaves of advertisements. Reproduction of original from the British Library. English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT26882. Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).

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eng

THE Perjur'd Husband: OR, THE Adventures of VENICE. A TRAGEDY. As it is Acted at the THEATRE-ROYAL IN DRURY-LANE. BY His MAJESTY's Servants.

Written by Mrs. CENTLIVRE.

LONDON: Printed for W. FEALES, at Rowe's-Head, over-againſt St. Clement's Church in the Strand, M.DCC.XXXVII.

To His GRACE WRIOTHESLY, DUKE of BEDFORD. May it pleaſe your Grace,

IT is the juſt Prerogative of true Greatneſs to be univerſally admir'd by all; and one ſo eminently poſſeſs'd of it as your Grace, can no more eſcape the Tribute of our Praiſe and Admiration, than you can ceaſe to deſerve it: Not that 'tis in the Power of any one, or even the Applauſe of Multitudes, to reach half your Merit, yet may we be allow'd, according to the Proportion of our poor Stock, to throw in our Mite; and not be frightned from the Hopes of your Grace's Patronage, by conſidering the Unworthineſs of the Offering; for were none but worthy Offerings made, the Gods themſelves wou'd loſe their Sacrifice; and they that deſerve moſt our Praiſe ſhou'd have it leaſt, becauſe 'tis hardeſt to give them their Due.

And 'tis impoſſible, my Lord, this Poem ſhould find Sanctuary any where but in the Umbrage of your Favour, for the Eyes of all Mankind are ſo fixt upon your Grace, that 'twou'd be a Diſappointment to the Publick. to lay at any other's Door, what is ſo much your Duee And tho' I hit not a Wildair for the Humour of the Town in my Play, I may boldly ſay I have copied the greateſt Part of Mankind in the juſt Admiration of your Grace.

Your particular Art, in appearing free, complaiſant and converſible, without quitting a Noble Greatneſs proper to yourſelf, makes us at once approach you with Freedom and with Awe: Your Goodneſs, that makes you ſtoop to your Inferiors, loſes nothing by being view'd near at hand, but is the more admir'd for it; and thus we conſider your Grace arriv'd at the Height of Greatneſs, without a mortifying Reflection on the Lowneſs of our own Condition; nor does the World envy the truly Great, who by their Goodneſs and Affability make Mankind partake of their Felicity.

I may plead Preſcription in Excuſe of this Preſumption, and tell how Poets in all Ages have pretended a Right to lay their Works at ſome Nobleman's Feet; but I'd rather ſubmit to your Grace's Goodneſs; for if I have offended, 'tis a Fault of the beſt kind, and proceeds from too much Zeal to let the World know how much I am,

My Lord, Your Grace's moſt Obedient, and Devoted Humble Servant, Suſanna Centlivre.
PREFACE.

I SHOULD not trouble my Reader with a Preface, if Mr. Collier had taught Manners to Masks, Senſe to Beaus, and Good Nature to Criticks, as well as Morality to the Stage; the firſt are ſure to envy what they can't equal, and condemn what they don't underſtand; the Beaus uſually take a greater Liberty with our Sex than they wou'd with their own, becauſe there's no Fear of drawing a Duel upon their Hands; the latter are a Sort of rude ſplenatick Men, that ſeldom commend any thing but what they have had a Hand in. Theſe ſnarling Sparks were pleas'd to carp at one or two Expreſſions, which are ſpoken in 'em Aſide by one of the inferior Characters in the Drama; and without conſidering the Reputation of the Perſons in whoſe Mouths the Language is put, condemn it ſtrait for looſe and obſcure: Now (with Submiſſion to better Judges) I cannot believe that a Prayer-Book ſhou'd be put into the Hands of a Woman, whoſe innate Virtue won't ſecure her Reputation; nor is it reaſonable to expect a Perſon, whoſe Inclinations are always forming Projects to the Diſhonour of her Husband, ſhou'd deliver her Commands to her Confident in the Words of a Pſalm. I heartily wiſh that thoſe that find fault with the Liberty of my Stile, wou'd be pleas'd to ſet a Pattern to the Town, by retrenching ſome of their Debaucheries, for Modeſty thrives beſt by Example. Modeſt Language from the truly Virtuous is expected; I mean ſuch as will neither act ill, nor ſuffer ill to be acted: It is not enough that Lucy ſays ſhe's honeſt, in having denied the Brutal Part; who ever thinks Virtue centers in that, has a wrong Notion of it; no, Virtue is a tender Plant, which cannot live in tainted Ground; Virtue is what the Air of Flattery cannot blaſt, nor the vile ſordid Droſs of Gain poiſon; and ſhe that can withſtand theſe two Shocks, may be ſtil'd truly Virtuous. I ask my Reader's Pardon for my Bluntneſs, but I hope none of my Sex ſo qualified will condemn me for expoſing the Vices of the ſeeming Religious

I fear there are but too many hit by the Character of Signora Pizalta; I wiſh, for the ſake of the reverſe Party, there were fewer, or they better known, ſince the malicious World are ſo apt to judge of Peoples Inclinations by the Company they keep; which is ſometimes authentick, but not always an infallible Rule. I ſhall ſay little in Juſtification of the Play, only deſire the Reader to judge impartially, and not condemn it by the Shortneſs of its Life, ſince the Seaſon of the Year never promis'd much better Succeſs. It went off with general Applauſe; and 'tis the Opinion of ſome of our beſt Judges, that it only wanted the Addition of good Actors, and a full Town, to have brought me a Sixth Night, there having been worſe Plays within this Twelve-month approv'd of.

THE PROLOGUE. By a GENTLEMAN. Spoken by Mrs. OLDFIELD. SUCH dreadful Laws of late 'gainſt Wit are made, It dares not in the City ſhow its Head. No Place is ſafe; each Cuckold turns Informer, If we make merry—it muſt be in a Corner. And here's To-night, what doubly makes it ſweet, A private Table, and a Lady's Treat: At her Reflections none can be uneaſy, When the kind Creature does her beſt to pleaſe ye. Humbly ſhe ſues, and 'tis not for your Glory T'inſult a Lady—when ſhe falls before ye. But ſince no human Wit can ſtand the Teſt, With Gorman! and the Champion of the Weſt! She'll fill the Liſts, and then you cannot ſlight her, (With Honour ſafe) for ſhe's a fair Inviter. Expects no Favour, but at Honour's Call, Defies the boldeſt Briton of you all; Whate'er's her Fate, ſhe's ſure to gain the Field, For Women always conquer, when they yeild.
THE EPILOGUE. By Mr. B—. Spoken by Mr. JO. HAINES. TOO long the Poets brought before the Bar, Have with their bold Accuſer wag'd the War; They now plead Guilty: And confeſs the Stage Has been immoral, and debauch'd the Age. Nay, they will mend—But wiſh that in their Station, All Men were pleas'd to forward Reformation. Firſt, let no Politicians, with vain Fears, About ſuceeeding Kings create new Jars; Let Lawyers now no more perplex the Laws, Nor with malicious Quibbles ſplit a Cauſe; Let Magiſtrates conſider 'tis but fitting, That as they take down Bills, they'd put down cheating; Let our young Heroes, who would be Commanders, Brag leſs o'er Coffee, and fight more in Flanders; Let Cheapſide Doctors in a frantick Fit, No more make impious War with ſacred Wit; Let City Wives (but that's too hard a Task) Mimick no more Town-Ladies in a Mask, Nor from their Prentices the Favour ask; Let no old caſt-off Miſs aſſume the Saint, Let Cowards ceaſe to huff, and Beaus to paint; Let at yond Corner Houſe the Wits and Bards, Gain by Religion, what they loſe at Cards; Let ſnarling peeviſh Criticks ceaſe to bite, Or in a falſe Sublime dull Plays to write; Let Galleries no more for Judges ſit, But leave to the bright Boxes, and the Pit, Their lawful Empire o'er immortal Wit. When all this heavy Task is well perform'd, We dare ingage the Stage ſhall be reform'd.
Dramatis Perſonae. MEN. Mr. Mills. Mr. Simpſon. Mr. Thomas. Mr. Norris. Mr. Fairbank. WOMEN. Mrs. Kent. Mrs. Oldfield. Mrs. Baker. Mrs. Moore. Mrs. Lucas. Maskers, Dancers, Singers, and Attendants. SCENE, VENICE, in Carnival-Time.
THE PERJUR'D HUSBAND.
ACT I.
SCENE I. The Curtains fly up, and diſcover a Mask in Pizalto's Houſe. Pizalto, Lady Pizalta, Lucy; Ludovico talking to Lady Pizalta; Baſſino and Aurelia talking together; Florella and other Maskers. A Spaniſh Entry. While the Dance is performing, enter Armando, and gives Baſſino two Letters, which he opens and reads. Lady Pizalta and Lucy advance to the Front of the Stage. Lady Pizalta. OH! Lucy, I'm undone— That Stranger there has charm'd my Heart: I feel The Pow'r of conquering Love; quick, quickly tell me, What ſhall I do to eaſe this racking Paſſion? Lucy.

Nay, Madam, I fancy your Paſſion has little Occaſion for Lenitives; it blazes ſo violently at firſt, 'tis like to be ſoon extinguiſh'd.

L. Piz.

Dear Lucy, don't trifle with me; but contrive, imagine, do any thing, to bleſs thy Love-ſick Miſtreſs with the Sight of that dear Man: And as an Earneſt of further Rewards, here, take this— [Gives her a Ring.

Lucy.

Madam, I receive your Commands with much Joy, but your Preſent with more— [Aſide.] I'll try what this projecting Brain can do, and if you ſtep into the next Room, I'll ſoon give you an Account of my Proceedings.

[Exit L. Pizalta.
Baſſ. Ye Gods! What have I done, that you purſue me thus! Why did you e'er decree that I ſhould wed A Wife I now muſt hate? Why did I ſee The bright Aurelia? Why am I thus torn 'Twixt Love and Duty? Oh! what Pangs, what Torments My Soul endures! Oh! my Aurelia! [Exeunt omnes, but Lucy & Ludov. Lucy pulling Ludovico by the Sleeve. Lucy.

Sir, Sir, one Word with you.

Lud.

Your Buſineſs—

Lucy.

May one ask you a civil Queſtion, and be reſolv'd?

Lud.

Hum—A civil Queſtion, ſayſt thou? What's it, prithee, a Night's Lodging? If ſo, pull off thy Mask, and I'll reſolve thee inſtantly—But I never ſtrike Bargains in the Dark.

Lucy.

I don't know, Sir, but it may tend to that, by way of Proxy, at the long-run: But at preſent my Commiſſion reaches no further than to know your Lodgings; if any Thing comes on't, I fancy 'twill not diſpleaſe you.

Lud.

(Aſide.) Hum—This is but a Pettifogger in Intrigues, I find—Egad, I'm like to be pretty well employ'd during the Carnival—Well, conſidering I am a Stranger here, this Hit may be a lucky one, and the Lady handſome—Egad, I'll fancy her ſo at leaſt, wer't but for the Pleaſure of Expectation.

Lucy.

What are you ſtudying, Sir? Are you ſo long reſolving whether you ſhall accept a Lady's Favour, or no?

Lud.

No, faith, Child: I am not over-ſcrupulous in thoſe Matters—Let her be but Woman, and we ſhan't diſagree—And ſo thou mayſt tell her—There's a Direction for thee. [Tears the Superſcription of a Letter, and gives it her.

[Exit Ludovico.
Lucy.

Frank and eaſy, a la mode de Paris—Well, theſe indifferent Sparks charm more than all your cringing Fops—Now for my Buſineſs—Let me ſee—I'll to my Lady, ſhe'll write; I'll carry the Letter, and the Devil will turn Saint, if I don't bring 'em together, and merit a further Recompence

By Coupling many have there Fortunes made; I only want Perferment, not my Trade. [Exit Lucy.
SCENE II. The Scene changes to Baſſino's Lodgings and diſcovers the Count in his Night-gown, a Table with Lights, and Letters lying on the Table. Baſ. All Things lie huſh'd in peaceful Silence here: All but Baſſino's Mind—Oh! happy he Who lives ſecure and free from Love's Alarms. But happier far, who, Maſter of himſelf, Ranges abroad without that Clog, a Wife. Oh! rigorous Laws impos'd on Free-born Man! On Man, by bounteous Nature firſt deſign'd The Sovereign Lord of all the Univerſe! Why muſt his generous Paſſion thus be ſtarv'd, And be confin'd to one alone? The Woman, whom Heaven ſent as a Relief, To eaſe the Burden of a tedious Life, And be enjoy'd when ſummon'd by Deſire, Is now become the Tyrant of our Fates. [Takes up a Letter. But hold, Baſſino! whither does thy Paſſion Hurry thy wandering Reaſon: Let this Letter Re-call the Fugitive, and fix thy Senſes On dutious Love—A Wife, ſo young, ſo fair, So excellent, whoſe Charms not three Months ſince Did fire thy Soul; a Wife, who dotes on thee; A Wife to whom thou ſworeſt eternal Love— By Heaven, I ſwear again I will be true. This Thought again reſtores my Peace of Mind— No, charming Wife; no dear Placentia, no, Thou ſhalt not beg in vain: I will return. [Kiſſes the Letter. But who comes here—My Friend Armando? Enter Armando. Arm. Dear Friend, I heard The Conflict of your Paſſion, and my Joys Are now compleat, ſince Virtue gains the Day. Baſ. Yes, dear Armando, the Conflict is o'er, And I'm reſolv'd to fly to my Placentia. Arm. Cheriſh that Thought: By Heaven your Reſolution Tranſports my Soul with Joy! A kind, a virtuous Wife waits your Embraces; A Wife, who like a Turtle mourns the Abſence Of her dear Mate. Haſte then, my Friend, to drive That Cloud of Sorrow which o'recaſts her Mind, And, like the Sun, diſpel her gloomy Thoughts. Baſ. Thanks for your Counſel— You like a God ſupport my feeble Virtue. This very Morning I'll prepare for Turin, Where Time and Abſence will deface the Image Of that bewitching Beauty, which how haunts My tortur'd Mind—Yet, firſt I'll take my Leave Of this fair Charmer—And Heaven grant That I may ſee her unconcern'd— Arm. My Lord, what d'you mean? Have you well weigh'd the Danger of this Viſit? Baſ. What Danger can there be? Arm. Danger! my Lord—Conſider well how feeble Our Reaſon is againſt the Pow'r of Beauty— Baſ. My Reſolution's firm; no Charm can ſhake it. Arm. If not her Beauty, fear her Syren Tongue; Fear her endearing Prayers, her fond Reproaches, Her tender Sighs, her Vows, her trickling Tears. Nay—if all theſe prove vain, fear her Deſpair, A Woman, an abandon'd Woman's Rage. Baſ. Were there more Dangers, yet I'll ſtand 'em all; My Honour bids me pay this parting Viſit: My Heart ſhall have no Share in what I'll ſpeak. Truſt me this once, and be yourſelf a Witneſs, Baſſino can controul unlawful Love.— Arm. My Lord, 'tis with Regret I ſee you go, May Heaven aſſiſt you in this dangerous Strife.
SCENE III. Aurelia's Chamber; She in an Undreſs with Florella. Aur. No more of that—Ceaſe thy ungrateful Suit, Alonzo is a Man I cannot love; I own he's witty, generous and brave; Has all the Charms that Nature can beſtow To fire a Woman's Heart—Yet I'm inſenſible, His very Sight chills all my trembling Spirits; Therefore, name him no more—I charge thee do not. Flor. Madam. I've done—Yet ſhall I be permitted To ask a Queſtion? Are you then reſolved Ne'er to admit a Paſſion in your Breaſt? Aur. Oh! Dear Florella, preſs not a Confeſſion, Which but too well my Eyes themſelves diſcloſe. Alas! I love—I love to ſuch Exceſs, That tho' I know I'm lov'd again, my Mind Is ſtill perplex'd with Doubts and jealous Fears. Flor. You love and are belov'd! Then ſure you reach The Height of human Bliſs, and bounteous Heaven Can ſcarce give more—But who's the happy Man; Is it not Count Baſſino? Aur. Oh! charming Name; there's Muſick in that Sound! Yes, Count Baſſino is the Man I love. Canſt thou now blame my Coldneſs to Alonzo? Flor. Forgive me, Madam, if I dare perſume To ſpeak my Sentiments: I muſt confeſs Baſſino is a Man of excellent Virtue; His Education at the Court of Savoy, Has ſtill refin'd what he receiv'd from Nature; His Perſon too is charming— And, what moſt Women court, he has a Title— But then conſider, you are unacquainted With his Eſtate, and tho' his Equipage Denotes an ample Fortune, yet we ſee Many a Stranger here, during the Carnival, Who makes a Figure by induſtrious Gaming. As for Alonzo, he was born at Venice, Of Noble Parents; his Eſtate, a large one— Even from his Youth you had his amorous Wiſhes, And as he grew in Years his Love encreas'd: You lov'd him too—Nay, which is more, your Father Approv'd your mutual Loves, and at his Death Bequeath'd you to Alonzo. Aur. Oh! my Florella, thou haſt rouz'd a Thought, Which will for every break Aurelia's Reſt. I know my Father's Tenderneſs to me Made him confirm Alonzo's Suit, for then I lov'd Alonzo But were my gentle Father ſtill alive, I'm ſure he would not croſs my Inclinations. But, Oh! name not my Father; I cannot bear The ſad Remembrance of ſo great a Loſs. [Weeps. Flor. But fear you not t'offend his peaceful Ghoſt, By breaking with the Man he deſtin'd yours? Aur. 'Tis not my Fault: and juſt Heaven muſt forgive What Heaven decrees—Yes, 'tis my cruel Stars That made my Heart inconſtant to Alonzo, 'Tis with Regret I break my plighted Faith; In vain I ſtrive to check my new-born Love, I cannot, cannot live without Baſſino. Flor. Madam, I wiſh your Paſſion ne'er prove fatal, But much I fear this inauſpicious Match. Enter Baſſino, Armando. Aur. May Heaven avert th' unlucky Combination Of our preſaging Thoughts: For, know I tremble too— But here's the Man that will diſpel my Fears. Arm. to Baſſ. My Lord, remember To keep your Reſolution. Baſ. to Arm. Yes—I will keep it— [To Aur.] Madam, you will pardon A Morning Viſit, when you know what Reaſons Preſs'd me to fix it on this early Hour.— By Letters from the Court I was laſt Night Commanded to return with Speed to Turin, And thence ſet out for France, to repreſent My Sovereign Leige in ſolemn Embaſſy. This Day I muſt prepare to take my Journey, Tho' 'tis with killing Grief I leave my dear, My fair Aurelia[To Arm.] Now, my Armando. Arm. My Lord, 'tis well: But ſtill be on your Guard, The dreadful Shock comes on— Arm. This Day be gone! What means my Lord? Oh! Heaven, My boding Fears are come to paſs: I ſee A Cloud of Woes juſt ready to o'erwhelm me. Is't poſſible! how can that Form divine Harbour ſuch Treachery! Is then Baſſino falſe? Say, perjur'd Man, how often did you ſwear This happy Day ſhould make you mine for ever! How can you now forget your ſolemn Vows? Why have I met with this inhuman Uſage? Baſ. Madam, my Prince's Orders Are abſolute: My Honour is concern'd. Aur. Muſt a vain Title be preferr'd to Love? But no—You never lov'd—'twas baſe Deceit. Curſt, curſt diſſembling Men! Their flattering Tongues Can feign a Paſſion that will look like Love, Till by Degrees they get us in their Power; Then with bold Impudence they draw the Vizor, And ſhew the Cheat that mock'd our credulous Hopes. Faithleſs Baſſino, How oft you ſwore your Love cou'd ne'er expire: How oft you ſwore one Smile of mine had Charms, Even above the Glories of a Crown. Thoſe were the Oaths I fondly did believe; Thoſe Words convey'd a Poiſon to my Heart, And even now I feel its mighty Force: My Head turns giddy, and my trembling Knees Betray their ſinking Burden— Alas! I faint, I die— [She faints, Baſſino runs and embraces he •… Baſſ. Oh! ſtay, my Love, my Life, my Soul, my all The Conflict's paſt, and I am thine again. But ſhe is breathleſs! Oh! ye rigorous Gods, Give back her Soul, or let my own be plung'd To dark Elyſium—Oh! my dear Aurelia! [Hugs he •… Arm. Is this your Reſolution? By Heaven, I bluſh To call you Friend. Your Wife, my Lord, remembe •… Your Wife— Baſſ. Curſe on that Name— Urge me no more to follow your Chimera's, Left you oblige me to break off that Friendſhip You bluſh to own—Oh! my Aurelia! Arm. aſide. How ſweet is treacherous Vice! how e •… ge •… Fond Man purſues his Ruin! All Arguments were vain—yet ſtill one Way remain Which cannot fail, to ſtop the Progreſs of this impio •… Lov •… His Wife, by my Direction, comes to Venice: Her Sight will ſoon awake his ſlumbering Virtue, At leaſt it will retrieve Aurelia's Senſes. [Exit Armand •… Aur. recovering. Where am I? Where's my Lord, 〈◊〉 falſe Baſſino? Baſſ. Here, here, my Soul, my charming Dear. Aur. thruſts him off. Hold off—Approach me not-urge not my Rage, Or with this Dagger I'll revenge my Wrongs On thy perfidious Heart—But, oh! his Heart's too hard, ven for temper'd Steel—Therefore I'll ſheath it here. (Offers at her Breaſt: Baſſino ſnatches the Dagger, and throws himſelf at her Feet in a diſtracted Manner. Baſſ. Oh! hold—forbid it, Gods! am the curſed Cauſe, and I muſt die. h! who could bear my Load of mortal Woe! •… e heavenly Powers beſtow the Stroke of Grace, nd rack Baſſino: Let your vengeful Thunder ow cruſh my guilty Head—Or thou, Oh! Parent Earth, pen thy Boſom, and conceal my Crime. [Tears the Ground. [Falls down. Aur. Is he then mine again! •… ok up, my Lord, my Love, my Life! y dear Baſſino! 'Tis Aurelia calls. •… t me for ever fold thee in my Arms, •… d beg thou'lt never ſpeak of parting more. [Embraces him. Both riſe and embrace in an Extaſy. Baſſ. Oh! never, never— •… e Poles ſhall meet, the Sun and Moon invert •… eir wonted Motion ere I part from thee. •… ondly try'd how much I was belov'd, •… d ſince you're true, my Bliſs is now compleat. Aur. Was't but a Trial? then my Griefs are vaniſh'd, •… d I am loſt in Joy—Baſſino's mine; [They embrace again. Baſſ. Thine, thine for ever: And this happy Day, •… ll end Aurelia's Fears—Ha— •… is Day, ſaid I, but where's Placentia then? •… Wife Placentia! Little does ſhe think •… at Baſeneſs I intend—Oh! racking Thought! •… 'tis reſolv'd, I'll change nor think no more: •… try to plunge, and reach the bliſsful Shore; •… d if I ſink, yet ſtill this Hope's my Friend, •… ſnatch my Treaſure ere my Courſe I end. [Aſide. Aur. My Lord, what makes you pauſe? Baſſ. The raviſhing Thoughts of mighty Joys to come, •… t me in Extaſy, and made me dumb; When on thy ſnowy Breaſt diſſolv'd I lie, What Monarch can there be more bleſt than I? [Baſſino leads her off with a languiſhing 〈◊〉 Enter Alonzo. Alon. Sure, if my Eyes deceive me not, I ſaw Aurelia with the Count juſt parting hence, Diſſolv'd in Love, and languiſhing they ſeem'd. Damnation— I cannot bear the Thought—I'll after 'em. Alonzo going. Enter Florella. Flor. aſide.

Ha—Alonzo here! I muſt preven •… Diſcovery.

Alon.

Florella here! ſhe comes opportunely— •… may inform me of what I yet but fear—G •… morrow, Florella: How fares my Love, my dear •… relia?

Flor.

Signior, Good-morrow; you are an early •… ſitant.

Alon.

Not for a Man in Love; but anſwer me, 〈◊〉 does Aurelia?

Flor.

Well in Health—Only ſhe's now and 〈◊〉 in a little Fit of Melancholy, ſuch as uſually pro •… from timorous Doubts about that dreadful State of •… trimony: You know the Time draws nigh that 〈◊〉 her to your Arms.

Alon.

By Heaven! 'Tis an Age, there's ſix Day •… to come.

Flor.

An Age, indeed, if he knew all. [ 〈◊〉

Alon. But haſte, Florella; lead me to my Dear, She only can contract that tedious Age Of lingring Pain, and ſooth it with her Smiles. Say, is ſhe alone? Flor. Yes—No— Oh! Heaven! What ſhall I ſay? [ 〈◊〉 She's, ſhe's a— Alon. Ha—What means this faultering Anſwe •… All's not right, and my Suſpicion's true. Flor.

Signior, my Lady is not dreſt, and I ſhall diſpleaſe her, in admitting even you, without her Leave.

Alon. Ha—not dreſt—Take heed you mock me not; Nor think to blind me with your feign'd Excuſe: For in your guilty Face I read the Truth. Come, tell me who's with her? is't not Baſſino? Flor. aſide.

Oh! Heaven! What ſhall I ſay?

Alon. Nay, nay, no Study: Lying will not do: I ſaw 'em part from hence, juſt now I ſaw 'em. Harkee, ſweet Miſtreſs, how long have you practis'd This ſubtle Trade? I find you're much improv'd. Hell and Damnation—quickly, tell me What did Baſſino give for his Admittance? I'll double the Reward—but ſhe's not dreſt for me— Oh! damn'd, damn'd Sex! Flor.

Signior, what do you mean?

Alon. To ſee Aurelia—ſee her inſtantly— Nay, by Heaven! I will: All Oppoſition's vain: For by th' avenging Power of Love I ſwear, Tho' in Baſſino's Arms I'll drag her thence, Only to caſt her from my Sight for ever: Nor ſhall he live to triumph in my Shame. What tho' the Marriage Rites be not perform'd, Yet I may call her Wife. Her Father gave her to me: And her own Vows have fix'd my Heart in her's. Muſt then Alonzo be deny'd Admittance, Under that poor Pretence that ſhe's not dreſt? Whilſt baſe Baſſino lies diſſolv'd in Pleaſures On her perfidious Breaſt—Oh! killing Thought! She makes my Name of Husband infamous, Even before the Prieſt has join'd our Hands. I'll in, and if th' Affront I tamely bear, May Heaven deny me at my lateſt Prayer, [Exeunt.
SCENE IV. Ludovico's Lodgings. Ludovico ſolus. Lud.

Who waits?

Enter Mountaine. Mount.

Did you call, Sir?

Lud.

Mountaine, run to Signiora Ronquilla, and tell her I have done with her for ever, if ſhe does not ſend this Evening the hundred Ducats ſhe promiſed to lend me—And harkee, as you come back, acquaint Signiora Cornara I ſhall be buſy To-morrow, and deſire ſhe will put off her Viſit till another Day.

[Knocking at the Door.
Mount.

Sir, there's ſomebody at the Door.

Lud.

See who 'tis.

Mount.

Sir, a Gentlewoman deſires to ſpeak with you.

Lud. A Gentlewoman! admit her—Well, 'Tis a great Fatigue to oblige the whole Sex. Enter Lucy. Oh! what News from your Lady? Lucy.

This will inform you, Sir. [Gives him a Letter.

Lud. reads.

Hum, hum, a Letter—Tho' it may ſeem improper for one of my Sex to make the firſt Step in an Amour, yet you ought to conſider, that the rigorous Confinement we are under all the Year round, may, in ſome meaſure, excuſe the Liberties we take during the Carnival. If you have the Courage to meet me, I ſhall be at four in the Afternoon in the Plazza d' Eſpagna, inviſible to all but yourſelf.—Well, I believe all Women in Venice are wild for Gallants.

Lucy.

Sir, what Anſwer ſhall I return to my Lady?

Lud. aſide.

Egad—I am in doubt whether I ſhall throw my Time away on this Intrigue or no— Harkee Child, ſtep into the next Chamber, and I'll anſwer your Meſſage inſtantly— [Exit Lucy.] Let me ſee— [Reads in his Table Book] Monday, at Two in the Afternoon I am to meet Signiora Belleza at her Nurſe's—She's a pretty Rogue, and ſo I'll go—At Three of the Clock, Signiora Dorinda the Senator's Wife, at the Indian Houſe—Pſhaw, ſhe's an old Acquaintance,—I ſhan't go—At half an Hour paſt Three, the Counteſs Wrinkle, who preſented me with a Gold-hilted Sword—Silly Fool! does ſhe think I'll beſtow one of my Viſits on an old ſhrivelled Piece of Antiquity, for a trifling Preſent, not worth above three-ſcore Piſtoles—At a Quarter paſt Four, my Semſtreſs Dorothy Steenkirk, who ſupplies me with Linen,—Oh! this Viſit may be put off for a new Intrigue—And ſo I'll acquaint the Meſſenger.

[Exit Ludovico.
The End of the Firſt Act.
ACT II.
SCENE I. A Chamber in Signior Pizalto's Houſe. Enter Lady Pizalta, Lucy. Lady Piz.

DID you deliver my Letter to Ludovico, Lucy?

Lucy.

Madam, I did; I found him in his Study, reading the Lover's Watch, which he ſwears does not at all agree with his Conſtitution. He hates Injunctions of Love, like thoſe of Penance: For the one, ſays he, is no more pleaſurable to the Body, than the other beneficial to the Soul.

L. Piz.

What a fine Gallant I'm like to have with theſe Principles! Well—what did he ſay to a Summons from a Woman of my Quality? Did it not make him wiſh the Time of Aſſignation were ſooner than the Appointment in the Letter?

Lucy.

He firſt hum'd over your Billet; and pauſing a while, he deſir'd me to ſtay for an Anſwer in a next Room; then coming to me, he ask'd me what Countrywoman you were? For, ſaid he, if ſhe ſhould prove an old Acquaintance, I would uſe her damnably—But when I and aſſur'd him you never ſaw the Outſide of theſe Walls, he began to have that Deſire which all Men have to a new Face

L. Piz.

Very well; and what then?

Luc.

He ſtrait enquir'd whether you were black, brown, fair, old, young, Maid, Wife or Widow? I told him you was a wretched Wiſe to an old, impotent, rich, covetous, noble Venetian; beautiful, young, generous, and of a fair Complexion. He hugg'd me at theſe Words, ſeem'd tranſported with the News, and ſwore that in Intrigues, a Wife was moſt ſuitable to his Temper; for, ſaid he, there's neither Children to father, nor Honour to repair: and where his Pocket and Liberty are ſafe, he is contented to venture his Body and Soul,

L. Piz.

Excellent Maxims!

Lucy.

In ſhort, Madam, he ſays he has had ſeveral Bills of this Nature drawn upon him of late, and how much his Stock may be exhauſted, he knows not; but however he'll meet you, and if he cannot anſwer your Expectation, he'll give you Earneſt.

L. Piz.

You talk merrily, Girl; I hope you did not tell my Name. I ſhould be loath to truſt a Man of his Character with my Reputation at firſt Daſh.

Lucy.

No, Madam, I only told your Quality.

L. Piz.

That's well: Oh! Reputation, what ſeveral Sorts of Slavery do we undergo to preſerve thee! for to be thought virtuous, we are forced to be conſtantly railing againſt Vice, tho' our Tongues and Maxims ſeldom agree.

Lucy.

Alas! Madam, that Pretence is grown too common: For the Men now take it for granted, that a Lady is very near ſurrendring, when once ſhe holds out that Flag of Defiance.

L. Piz.

Well—Men uſe us very barbarouſly: They will neither ſuffer us to be honeſt, nor allow us to be thought ſo—Here, take this Key, and ſecure every thing that concerns my Reputation: And if my Husband wakes ere I come back, you may eaſily find ſome Excuſe to prevent his Enquiries; for the Carnival allows us more Liberty, than at other times we dare pretend to—I know thy Honeſty, and will rely upon't.

Lucy.

Yes, indeed, Madam, I am honeſt at the Bottom.

L. Piz.

Well, I'll be gone: 'Tis about the Hour

[Ex. L. Piz.
Enter Pizalto. Lucy.

Good Luck attend you, Madam—Oh! Heavens! here's my Lord—Madam, Madam, Madam—Oh! Lord, what ſhall I ſay, now ſhe's gone?

Piz.

Hiſt, hiſt, Lucy: Don't, don't, don't call your Lady, for I have a Word or two to ſay to thee in private, and have waited for this lucky Opportunity a great while—

Lucy, aſide.

Now Venus be prais'd, I hope he has found ſome Buſineſs of his own, that may give my Lady an Opportunity to mind her's.

Piz.

Well, Lucy, well,—canſt thou gueſs my Buſineſs now?

Lucy.

No, indeed, Sir—But I'm certain, an old Man's Buſineſs can't be great. [Aſide.

Piz.

[Gives her a Looking-glaſs.] Here, Child, this will tell thee—Look in't, look in't, I ſay—Ah! ah! thou haſt a pretty pouting Lip, a delicate roguiſh Eye; ſuch an Ogle, ſuch a Caſt—Ah! Rogue—Faith, thou'rt very pretty: And, in ſhort, if any one rival thy Lady, it will be thee, Lucy—Egad, I have Fire in me yet.

Lucy, aſide.

O' my Conſcience, and little too, I believe: Yet I wiſh he has enough to ſerve my Ends. I'll make my Fortune—Lord, Sir, what do you mean? I rival my Lady! Heaven forbid; I would not injure ſo good a Woman for the World—

Piz.

Pſhaw, pſhaw—Where's the Injury done to her, Child? Adod, I'll give thee a hundred Crowns.

Lucy.

No Injury, ſay you, my Lord? Why, I wonder you ſhould be ſo jealous of my Lady, and preach ſuch religious Maxims to her, when your own Principles are quite oppoſite.

Piz.

Look ye, Child, a Man may do that, which would look abominable in a Wife—A Woman's Reputation is a nice Thing.—

Lucy.

'Tis ſo—and therefore 'tis but Reaſon I ſhould take Care of mine.

Piz.

Prithee, no more of that: Thy Reputation ſhall be ſafe; I'll marry thee to my Gentleman.

Lucy.

Gentleman—Valet! Faugh—And what Good will a hundred Crowns do me, when my Virginity is gone? Indeed, if you lov'd me as much as you ſay, and would make my Fortune, (for I ſhould love extreamly to be a Lady) I cannot tell how far you might perſuade me—I know my Reputation would be ſafe in your Hands.

Piz.

Make thy Fortune! Why, I've known ſome of our Nobles marry a Wife with leſs than a hundred Crowns—But adod, thou'rt a charming Girl, and therefore I'll make it a hundred Piſtoles—What ſay'ſt thou now, Lucy? Ah! adod, I muſt buſs thee; [Kiſſes her.] Ah! Rogue, methinks I'm a young, luſty, vigorous Fellow again—Thou ſhall find I am, Girl.

Lucy aſide.

I believe I ſhall fail you, old Gentleman. Well, my Lord, make it up a thouſand Piſtoles, and I am your's, elſe I'll die a Maid, I'm reſolv'd.

Piz.

A thouſand Piſtoles, why thour't the moſt unconſcionable Wench in Italy: Why, 'tis a Price for a Dutcheſs in ſome Countries Come, come, prithee be reaſonable, Lucy?

Lucy.

Reaſonable! why you don't ask a reaſonable Thing—Look you, you know my Mind, I'll not bate a Penny—I'll warrant my Lady will give me two hundred at leaſt for my Diſcovery [Going.

Piz. aſide.

Udſlife! ſhe won't tell my Wife, ſure, •… m ruin'd if ſhe does; I'd rather give her two thou and—Hold, hold, Lucy, ſweet Lucy, prithee ome back—Faith, thou'rt ſo charming, I can de y thee nothing—Come, it ſhall be what thou wilt—Come now Rogue, let's retire to thy Cham er—

Lucy.

Nay, nay, no entring the Premiſes, till you ave paid the Purchaſe.—

Piz.

Adod, thou'rt a Wag—Come in then, and I'll diſcharge the Debt: Thou art a cunning Gipſy.

[Exit Pizal.
Lucy.

You ſhall have Reaſon to ſay ſo ere I have done with you, old Gentleman—For I am reſolv'd to ſhow you a Trick, and preſerve my Virtue. [Aſide.

For did baſe Men within my Power fall, T' avenge my injur'd Sex, I'd jilt 'em all. And would but Women follow my Advice, They ſhould be glad at laſt to pay our Price. [Exit Lucy.
SCENE II. The Piazza d' Eſpagna in Venice. Enter Lady Pizalta ſola. L. Piz. Not come yet! ungrateful Man! muſt a Woman of my Quality wait? How have we loſt our Pow'r ſince the Creation? When the whole World had but one ſingle Lord, Whom every Creature readily obey'd? Yet he, that mighty he, caught with a Smile, Hew to th' Embraces of the tempting Fair. But now each puny Sinner dares to croſs A Woman's Inclinations— Enter Ludovico. Oh! are you come, Signior? I ſuppoſe you have Some other Aſſignation, that made you miſs My Hour—Purſue it pray—I'll not interrupt you— Your Servant— [Going I hope he'll not take me at my Word. [Aſid •… Lud.

Nay, nay, Signiora, why this Paſſion? [Stops he •…

You ſent me a Challenge, and I, like a Man of Courage am come to anſwer it—Pray don't let a Quarter 〈◊〉 an Hour break Squares—I own it was a Fault to make a Lady wait; but Friends, Madam, Friends, and good Wine are the Devil—Come I'll make you amends.

L. Piz.

Friends and good Wine! I ſuppoſe thoſe Friends were Female ones—

Lud.

No, Faith: You ſhall judge of that—But ſuppoſe they were—Why ſhould you be angry that I did not fly with the deſir'd Haſte, as long as I am come time enough to give you Satisfaction—Beſides, I han't ſeen your Face yet, and for aught I know, it mayn't reward my Complement in coming now—Prithee, Child, unmask, and then I'll tell thee more of my Mind.

L. Piz.

The Devil take this Fellow—and yet methinks I love him for his Indifferency— [Aſide.] You talk as if you were unskill'd in the Art of Love: Don't you know that Expectation feeds more than twenty taſted Pleaſures?

Lud.

Hum—ſome Sort of Fops it may: But I'm none of thoſe—I never give my Opinion of a Diſh till I've taſted; neither do I care to dine often on one Sort of Meat without changing the Sauce—But when that Cloud's withdrawn, how long I ſhall keep my Reſolution I know not.

L. Piz

Say you ſo! Why then the only Way to preſerve your Appetite is to feed you ſlenderly; or only let you ſee the Food, but not to taſte.

Lud.

Faith, Madam, I'm no Camelion, but Fleſh and Blood—Therefore theſe Preſcriptions are of no Uſe—One Sight of that dear charming Face of your's, would be more obliging to your humble Servant.

L. Piz. unmasks.

Well, Sir, what think you? Is there any thing in this Face worth your Regard?

Lud.

Ah! by Heaven, an Angel—Oh! Madam, now blame yourſelf for my Neglect, for had you ſent the Picture of her, in whom all thoſe Beauties center, I had in this Place waited the coming of my Goddeſs, or rather flown on the Wings of eager Love, to meet my Fair, tho' in the Arms of ten thouſand Dangerss— Say, my charming Angel, do you forgive me? But why do I ask? your Eyes aſſure me you do; at leaſt I'll force a Pardon from theſe dear, ſoft, ruby Lips. [Kiſſes her in Extaſy.

L. Piz.

Hold, hold! been't ſo laviſh—a ſparing Gameſter is the likelieſt to keep in Stock—whilſt a profuſe Hand at one Caſt throws all he has away.

Lud.

To fear that, were to doubt your Charms, in which a Lover is ſure to find conſtant Supplies—But we loſe Time—Let's retire to my Lodgings, where I'll give thee the beſt Proofs of my Love I can?

L. Piz. aſide.

Well! He's a charming Fellow—Oh! how happy are Wives in France and England, where ſuch as he ſwarm!

Lud.

Come, Madam, come—Why, what do you mean by this Delay? Conſider I'm a Man, a mortal, wiſhing, amorous Man—

L. Piz.

And conſider I'm a Woman—

Lud. aſide.

Ay, ay: That I know: At leaſt I hope to find you ſuch—or I would not be in ſuch Haſte—

L. Piz.

And have a Reputation to preſerve.

Lud.

Oh! Lord, what a damn'd Turn's here? Reputation, ſay you? Egad, I find all Women make Pretence to that myſterious Word. [Aſide.] What! Are not you married, Madam?

L. Piz.

Yes, what then?

Lud.

Why then you have a Reputation to preſerve—that's all.

L. Piz.

All, Sir, yes, and all in all to me—Do you conſider what Country you're in, Sir?

Lud.

Yes, Faith, Madam; and what Conſtitution I am of too. I know Murder is as venial a Sin here, as Adultery is in ſome Countries; And I am too apprehenſive of my mortal Part not to avoid Danger—Therefore, Madam, you have an infallible Security—if I ſhould betray you, I bring myſelf into Jeopardy, and of all Pleaſures, Self-Preſervation is the deareſt.

L. Piz.

A very open Speaker, I vow.

Lud.

Ay, Madam, that's beſt—Hang your creeping, cringing, whining, ſighing, dying, lying Lovers—Pough! Their Flames are not more durable than mine, tho' they make more Noiſe in the Blaze.

Sings: Hang the whining Way of Wooing, Loving was deſign'd a Sport.
L. Piz. aſide.

The Duce take me if this Fellow has not charm'd me ſtrangely—Well, the Carnival is almoſt over, and then muſt I be ſhut up like a Nun again—Hey! Hoa! This Time will be ſo ſhort—

Lud.

Let's make the better Uſe on't then, my Dear. We will conſider when we have nothing elſe to do, but at preſent there's a Matter of the greateſt Moment, which I muſt impart to you—Therefore, come dear Rogue, come—

L. Piz.

[Looking on her Watch.] Hold—I have outſtaid my Time, and muſt return home inſtantly, to prevent Diſcoveries.

Lud.

Faith, Madam, this is not fair—to raiſe a Man's Expectation, and then diſappoint him! Would you be ſerv'd ſo yourſelf now?

L. Piz.

I'll endeavour to diſingage myſelf from my jealous Husband, and contrive another Meeting.

Lud.

But will you be ſure to meet me again?

L. Piz.

I give you my Hand as a Pledge—

Lud. kiſſes her.

And I this Kiſs in Return—Adieu, my Charmer.

L. Piz.

Signior, farewel.

[Exeunt ſeverally.
Enter Baſſino, Alonzo. Baſſ. Well, Sir, your Buſineſs— Alon. It is to tell you— You are a Villain— Baſſ. Ha— Alon. And that as ſuch I ought to have treated you before the Face Of falſe Aurelia—But I ſcorn to follow The barbarous Cuſtom of my native Country, I ſeek with Honour to revenge my Wrongs; Therefore, Sir, draw— Baſſ. This Action ſpeaks you noble—be likewiſe juſt, And let me know the Cauſe that moves your Anger. By Heaven I'd rather call you ſtill my Friend, Than be your Enemy—Yet, if I wrong'd you, I'll give you Satisfaction— Alon. Trifler away—Too well thou knowſt the Cauſe; And now wouldſt ſooth my Wrongs with Flattery. But my Reſolve is fixt as Heaven's Decrees: And one of us muſt fall—Let the Surviver Diſpoſe of that baſe, falſe, perjur'd Aurelia, As both his Love and Honour ſhall direct. If my propitious Stars defend my Life, You ſhall not die alone—Th' adulterous Fair Shall bear you Company—Now draw. Baſſ. Oh! hold. One Moment hold, I muſt unfold this Riddle: Adulterous Fair, ſay you? Alon. Yes: She's my Wife. Baſſ. Ha—your Wife! Sure there's a Curſe entail'd upon that Name. [Aſide. What! your real Wife? Alon. If the Command of an expiring Father, And her own Vows can make her mine, ſhe's ſo: Indeed the Marriage Rites are yet to come, Which ſlily ſhe delay'd theſe two Months paſt, On ſlight Pretence of finiſhing the Time Of Mourning for her Father—But 'tis plain, I was a Property to your baſe Love, And only deſign'd to fill up your Place, When ſurfeited you ſhould return to Turin. Hell—Furies! Draw, or in my juſt Revenge, I'll pin you to the Earth— Baſſ. Oh! Woman! Woman! [Aſide. Yes, I will draw—But ere the fatal Stroke Is paſt Recal, I ſwear Aurelia's Virtue, Is clear and ſpotleſs, like Diana's ſelf: Nor was I prompted on this early Viſit, But with Deſign to take my laſt Farewel, Having laſt Night received my Prince's Orders To haſte to Turin—Therefore if I fall, I hope ſhe'll meet with Mercy—Now come on. Alon. Hold, hold, my Lord; Oh! could I credit this, I would ask Pardon, and entreat your Friendſhip. Baſſ. 'Tis true, upon my Honour— But if you doubt my Words, I'm ready— Tho' I have Reaſon to decline this Combat, At leaſt at preſent—Oh! Placentia! [Aſide. Oh! my Placentia! why ſhould I abuſe thee? Alon. My Lord, you ſeem diſturb'd— Baſſ. Oh! Alonzo! Alonzo! Should I acquaint you with my wretched Fate, You'd find that Life itſelf is grown a Burden, I cannot bear, ſince I can ne'er be happy. But 'tis a Story that muſt ne'er be told, Let it ſuffice, to ſettle your Repoſe, That Turin holds the Cauſe of my Misfortunes. Alon. Then I am happy: [Aſide. My Lord, I wiſh 'twere in my Power to ſerve you, I'd do it as a Friend— Baſſ. Generous Sir, I thank you; As far as I am capable, I am Alonzo's. [Exit Alonzo. Oh! Force of treacherous Love! to gain my End, I wrong a Wife, a Miſtreſs, and a Friend. [Ex. Baſſino,
The End of the Second Act.
ACT III.
SCENE I. Aurelia's Lodgings. Enter Aurelia, Florella. Aur. OH! how I tremble for my dear Baſſino! Haſte, fly, Florella, brings me News he lives, Or elſe expect to ſee thy Miſtreſs die. Flor. Madam, be patient— Conſult your Reputation, and conſider That the leaſt Noiſe you make on this Occaſion, Reflects upon your Virtue— Aur. Away, away—Talk not of Reputation, When Love's in t'other Scale—But what can ſhock my Reputation; Heaven's my Witneſs, I ne'er lodg'd a Thought, For Count Baſſino that could wrong my Virtue. Perhaps the Gods purſue me with their Hatred, Becauſe I break my Promiſe to Alonzo. But then, why did they not ſecure me his? Why muſt weak Mortals be expos'd to Paſſions, Which are not in our Power to ſubdue, And yet account for what they prompt us to? But I will think no more—Almighty Love, Now hear my laſt Reſolve—if angry Heaven Refuſed to guard my dear Baſſino's Life, Aurelia too ſhall fall, and leave his Murderer Accurſt for ever— Enter Alonzo. Flor. Oh! Heaven! where will this end? Aur. Ha.— [Aſide. The Gods have ſent him to decide my Fate. How now! how dare you meet my angry View? Or think I'll e'er forgive the baſe Affront This very Day you offer'd to my Fame? Aur. Juſt Heaven refuſes not a Penitent, Therefore I cannot think that fair Aurelia, Whoſe Charms are all divine, ſhould ſail in Goodneſs. Oh! Let my Love atone for my raſh Deed: The Count and I are Friends, why ſhould Aurelia be more ſevere? Aur. He lives! bleſt News! Do then raſh Actions ſpeak your Love to me? Muſt I in publick bear with your Inſults Before I'm yours? what muſt I then expect When the ſtrict Ties of Marriage ſhall confirm Your jealous Paſſions? No, you have taught me to avoid the Shelf, I was juſt running on—know, baſe Alonzo, That from this Moment I reſume my Freedom, I diſingage you from your former Vows, And will henceforth be Miſtreſs of myſelf. Alon. Ha— [Aſide. This ſudden Coldneſs has another Spring, Than my raſh Carriage—Oh! my jealous Fears, But I'm reſolv'd to trace her winding Thoughts, And fetch the Secret forth— Madam, I hope you do but try my Love: I cannot think Aurelia would be falſe. Beſides, you can't recal what's regiſtred in Heaven. Aur. Then ſtay till we come there—There you'll have Witneſs. Alon. Witneſs! Oh! faithleſs, perjur'd Woman, canſt thou think Upon thyſelf, and bid me call my Witneſs? Yes, you are mine—By all the Gods you are. And ſhall there be a Power on this Side Heaven, To ſtop my Bliſs? No—by my Love I ſwear. I now can gueſs at your perfidious Meaning, And tho' that cowardly Villain ſlily thought To blind me with a Tale his Guilt had fram'd, 'Tis plain he is your Minion—yet wants Courage To own his Treachery. Aur. Detracting, ſlanderous Villain! How dare you treat me thus? Oh! for the Look of a fierce Baſilisk, To puniſh this audacious Inſolence! Alon. Marry thee! No—by Heavens, I had rather Be rackt'd to Death—And for thy vile Injuſtice, None ſhall enjoy thee, while this Sword is mine. [Lays hold on his Sword. Nor ſhall your Lover ſcape, to ſerve your Luſt, Till he has forc'd a Paſſage thro' this Breaſt. [Points to his Breaſt. Aur. Oh! my Baſſino. [Aſide. Oh! cruel Man! Are not you then contented To wreak your Spite on poor Aurelia? Why muſt your Rage involve the Innocent? Oh! Let me fall your Paſſion's Sacrifice; Let my Blood waſh the Stain you fix on me, But do not blaſt your Name with baſe Revenge.— Alon. By Heaven! ſhe dotes on him! Oh! cunning Woman! But this Pretence won't ſerve to ſave his Life; I'll not be caught again—No, Syren, No. Baſſino dies—Nor will I leave to Fortune The vengeful Stroke, but take a ſafer Way. Aur. Oh! Heaven! [Kneels. What Words ſhall I invent to ſooth his Rage, [Aſide. And ſave my dear Baſſino? Oh! Alonzo. My once-lov'd, Dear, will you not here me ſpeak? Oh! I conjure you by our plighted Love's, Whoſe Purity outſhone the Stars above, Hear me this Time, then uſe me as you pleaſe, Alon. Oh! Woman, Woman! Aur. If e'er Aurelia So much as in her Thoughts did wrong Alonzo, May ſudden Death purſue her perjur'd Steps: Heaven forgive [Aſide. The Purjury, ſince I've no other way To ſave Baſſino's Life.— Alon. Aurelia, riſe— [Raiſing her. Oh! could I credit this, how happy were Alonzo! But ſomething tells me that thou art forſworn; And yet thou ſeemeſt as fair as Truth itſelf; How is it poſſible that Guilt can look With ſo a Divine a Face? Aur. Oh! kill me inſtantly: kill me, I beg you, kill me; Let me not linger out an Age in Pain, For ſuch is every Moment of your Anger; I cannot bear to live in your Diſpleaſure. Alon. By Heaven ſhe's true— Hence frivolous Fears be gone—ſhe's only mine. Come to my Breaſt, my bright Aurelia, come. [Embraces her. To that ſoft Shrine that holds that Sacred Image, Which triumphs o'er my Soul, and graſps it all, I knew my boundleſs Treaſure, and the Thought Of loſing thee had rais'd my Love to Madneſs. But now I'm calm—No more ſhall that fierce Paſſion, Rude Jealouſy, diſturb my peaceful Mind. Do but forgive the Faults my Rage committed, And you will find our Loves will grow the purer; Juſt as the Sky looks brighter when the Storm Is chas'd away, and Phoebus ſmiles again. Aur. Since both have been to blame, let it ſuffice, We both repent, and will offend no more. Alon. Oh! never, never, I'll ne'er ſuſpect you more—Only reſolve me this— Aur. What's it? Alon. Why was Baſſino Admitted to your View, and I denied? Aur. He came to take his Leave, and 't had been rude Not to admit a Man of his high Birth On this Occaſion; Nor was you denied, But thro' by Woman's Fears of your Suſpicions. She thought you would miſconſtrue the Count's Viſit, As you have really done—I blam'd her for it, Indeed, this is the Truth—I hope Alonzo Believes me now— Alon. Believe Thee! Yes—As willingly as Martyrs A State of endleſs Joy. I will ſo love my Dear, that all Mankind Shall look with Envy on our mutual Bliſs. I'm like a Merchant toſt at Sea by Storms, Who his laſt Courſe with Pray'rs and Toil performs; And the rich Cargo ſafely brought on Shore, He hugs it thus, and vows to part no more. [Embraces her. Aur. (Aſide.) So in a flowry Mead a Serpent lurks, And the unwary Traveller ſurprizes, Where he ſuſpects leaſt Danger! Curſed Cheat. [Aſide. Oh! that I could diſcloſe the fatal Story! But it muſt never out—I beg, Alonzo, You'd leave me for a while, and reſt ſecure, You have my Love— Alon. Then the bright Sun in all his circling Turn, Cannot behold a Man more truly happy: What you command, I readily obey. Farewel, my Dear. [Exit Alonzo. Aur. Where art thou now, Aurelia? How wilt thou ſcape that dreadful Precipice, On which thou art hurried on by thy fatal Paſſion? With conſcious Horror I deceiv'd Alonzo; I hate this baſe Treachery, but 'twas unavoidable: The Truth had been more fatal— More fatal!—No—For I muſt never wed My dear Baſſino, whilſt Alonzo lives. Oh! the diſtracting Thought! what ſhall I do? Why! die Aurelia: That's the only Way, To keep thy Vows to both—Ha—die, ſaid I? But whether then? who knows what Puniſhment, Juſt Heav'n prepares for guilty Souls, like mine. But I muſt think no more, leſt I grow mad with Thought, If there's a Power that guards us here below, Oh! look with pitying Eyes on poor Aurelia: Appeaſe the Tumults of my anxious Fear, And load me with no more than I can bear. [Exeunt Aurelia, Florella.
SCENE II. Lady Pizalta's Lodgings. L. Piz.

Well, thou'rt an admirable Girl! What would half the Ladies in Venice give for ſuch a Servant?

Lucy.

(Aſide.) Truly you have Reaſon to ſay ſo, for 'tis not the firſt Intrigue I have manag'd for you—Oh! dear Madam, your Ladyſhip does me too much Honour—But how do you like your new Servant, Madam?

L. Piz.

Oh! above all Men living, Lucy: He has the moſt bewitching Converſation I ever met with—Say, is there no way to contrive a ſecond Meeting? For I'm impatient till I ſee the dear Man again—The End of the Carnival draws near, which is indeed the End of Life to me: For then muſt I be coop'd up with Age: Condemn'd to an eternal Coughing, Spitting, Snoring and Ill-nature—Then let me make the beſt of Life—ſince Hell cannot have a worſe Plague in Store than I have felt already.

Luc.

Indeed, Madam, I pity you: And with 'twere in my Power to free you from this old, wither'd Log, but tho' that's impoſſible, yet I may do you ſome little Services to make Life's tedious Journey pleaſant—Let me ſee, I have it—What would you ſay now, Madam, if I ſhould contrive a Way to have your Lover in your own Chamber?

L. Piz.

That were worth a King's Revenue—Speak, quickly, how, how, good Lucy?

Luc.

Why, thus: He ſhall put on my Cloaths, and in my Place attend you.

L. Piz.

Rare Contrivance; but my Husband, Lucy?

Luc.

Oh! let me alone, Madam, to manage him: He is defective in Sight, you know; and not miſtruſting any thing, will not be over curious: But if he ſhould, I have a way to bring you off—My Life on't—This Plot may be of Uſe to my Deſign, I'll manage it with Care. [Aſide.

L. Piz.

Oh! the Pleaſure of hearing my Husband lie coughing, and calling me to Bed: And my anſwering him, I'm coming, Dear; and while he imagines me in the next Room undreſſing, I'm happy in the Arms of my Ludovico. Certainly there's as much Satisfaction in deceivig a dull jealous Husband, as in getting a new Gallant; Were it not grown ſo common—each. Tradeſman's Wife muſt have her Gallant too—and ſometimes makes a Journey-man of the Apprentice e'er his Indentures be half out—'Tis an unſufferable Fault, that Quality can have no Pleaſure above the Vulgar, except it be in paying their Debts. Well, dear Lucy, I admire thy Contrivance—About it inſtantly—

Lucy.

(Aſide.) About it inſtantly! is that all? I muſt have my t'other Fee firſt.—I will, Madam; and you may expect your Lover inſtantly. But, Madam, what's to be done with your Brocade Night Gown you tore laſt Night? it can ne'er be mended handſomely.

L. Piz.

Nothing to be done without a Bribe I find, in Love as well as Law—Well, Lucy, if you manage this Intrigue with Care and Secreſy, the Gown is yours.

Enter Page. Page.

Madam, my Lord deſires ſo ſpeak with you.

Lucy.

Madam, I'll go about your Buſineſs: Your Ladyſhip's very humble Servant.

[Exit Lucy.
L. Piz.

Tell him I'm coming— [Exit Page. Now by way of Mortification, muſt I go entertain my old, jealous Husband.

[Exit Lady Pizalta.
SCENE III. The Piazza. Enter Ludovico Singing. Give me but Wine, that Liquor of Life, And a Girl that is wholeſome and clean, Two or three Friends, but the Devil a Wife, And I'd not change State with a King. Enter Lucy. Luc.

What Singing, Signior! Well, you're a pleaſant Gentleman—

Lud.

Ah! my little Female Mercury, what Meſſage bringſt Thou? Ha—will thy Lady bleſs me with another Sight—Ha—How—When? where? I am all in a Flame.

Luc.

Come along with me, Sir, I'll help you to an Extinguiſher preſently.

Lud.

If thou meaneſt thy Lady, with all my Heart—But I can tell thee, ſhe'll rather prove Oyl, than what you ſpeak of—But, ſay, where am I to ſee my lovely Charmer?

Lucy.

In her Chamber—

Lud.

Good! But how the Devil can that be done?

Lucy.

Nay, without the Help of a Conjurer, I aſſure you; If you dare take me for your Pilot, I'll warrant you Succeſs in your Voyage—I'll ſet you ſafe in the Iſland of Love; 'tis your Buſineſs to improve the Soil.

Lud.

I warrant thee, Girl; do you but bring me there once, and if I play not my Part, may I never more know the Pleaſure of an Intrigue.

Luc.

Which, if I miſtake not, is the greateſt Curſe can fall on you—Well, you muſt ſuffer a ſmall Metamorphoſis: What think you of perſonating me a little? That is dreſſing in my Cloaths, and waiting on your Miſtreſs in her Bed Chamber—Ha—

Lud.

Egad, I'm afraid I ſhall make but an awkward Chamber-maid, I'm undiſciplin'd in dreſſing a Lady's Head—

Lucy.

Oh! Sir, your Commiſſion won't reach ſo high as the Head: I believe my Lady will excuſe little Matters: You can undreſs, I ſuppoſe.

Lud.

Oh! the beſt and the quickeſt of any Man in Venice. But a Pox on't—Canſt find no other way?—I, I, I,—I like Petticoats in their proper Places, but I don't care to have my Legs in 'em.

Luc.

And ſo you reſolve againſt it? Ha—

Lud.

No, not abſolutely reſolve, Child: But—a—

Lucy.

But what, Sir!

Lud.

Nothing—I will follow thy Directions, whatever comes on't. Now lead the way: For nothing ſutes better with my Humour than a Friend, a Bottle, a new Miſtreſs, and a convenient Place.

[Exit. Lucy, Ludovico.
SCENE IV. Pizalto's Lodgings. Enter Pizalto with a Bond in his Hand. Piz.

Well—My Wife's a fine Woman! a very fine Woman! But a Pox ſhe's a Wife ſtill, and this young Jade runs in my Head plaguly: Well—here 'tis under my Hand; a Thouſand Piſtoles—A great Sum for a Maidenhead, as Maidenheads go now-a-days—Ah, had I been young now.

A Fiddle and a Treat had bore the Prize away, But when we old Fools dote, they make us pay. Enter Lucy.

Oh! are you come! Here, here, Lucy: Here's a Fortune for thee, worth Twenty Maidenheads, adod! I have not ſo much Money by me at preſent, but there's Security. [Gives her the Bond.

Luc.

Your Lordſhip's Bond's ſufficient—Well, but that I am ſatisfied my Reputation is ſafe with your Lordſhip, or twice the Sum ſhould not have prevail'd—Go to my Chamber, my Lord, I'll but ſtop and ſee if my Lady wants any thing, and I'll be with you inſtantly.

Piz

You won't ſtay, Lucy? Ah Girl, buſs thy Lady's Chucky; now do now—

Lucy.

Oh! Lord! not here, we ſhall be diſcovered.

Piz.

Well, thou art a cunning Sinner: make haſte, Lucy, doſt hear?

[Exit Piz.
Lucy.

You're in mighty Haſte, old Gentleman! but I ſhall deceive you,

My End is gain'd; I have my Fortune made, Man has not me, but I have Man betray'd.
The End of the Third Act.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. Armando's Lodgings. Enter Armando, Placentia. Pla. OH! Armando! Thou more than Friend to the diſtreſs'd Placentia! Say, how ſhall I regain my loſt Baſſino. My falſe, perfidious Husband? [Weeps. Arm. Dear Madam, moderate your Sorrow: Reſerve thoſe Tears to move Baſſino's Heart, Mine is all Pity: You may reſt ſecure Of all the Arguments a Friend can uſe To bring him back to your endearing Arms. Virtue's not quite extinguiſh'd in his Breaſt, Therefore I hope the Sight of bright Placentia Will rouze his ſlumbring Reaſon— Plac. Oh! Baſſino! Baſſino! Oh! wretched Woman! Oh! that I had dy'd E'er I had known him falſe: Then I were happy: And tho' contented with his ſecond Choice, He with a pitying Sigh, perhaps, had grac'd My Memory— Oh! all ye Powers that virtuous Love inſpire, Aſſiſt me now: inform my Vocal Organs With Angel Eloquence, ſuch as can melt His Heart of Flint, and move his former Kindneſs. (Aſide.) But if that fail, I will remove the Cauſe Of both our Woes—Yes, that happy Charmer, That Rival of my Love ſhall ſurely die. Arm. Doubt not of the Succeſs: What Heart of Steel Could ere reſiſt ſuch Beauty dreſt in Tears? Enter a Servant. Serv.

Sir, Count Baſſino enquires if you are within.

Plac. Oh! Heavens! how I tremble! Arm. Lucky Opportunity—ſhew him up. Madam, be pleas'd to ſtep into that Cloſet, Till I can ſound the utmoſt of his Thoughts, And ſhew him naked to your ſecret View. Then when he's in the Heighth of impious Paſſion, You like a Bolt from Heav'n ſhall ruſh on him, And ſtrike his Folly dumb. Plac. Almighty Powers, whoſe providential Care Is ever kind to virtuous Innocence, Oh! help me now in this Extremity. [Exit Placentia. Enter Baſſino. Baſſ. How does my Friend Armando? Arm. My Lord, Armando's well, And wiſhes you were ſo. Baſſ. Doſt thou diſcover ought that gives thee Cauſe To doubt I am not well? Indeed I think I am in perfect Health— Arm. My Lord, I ſhould be glad To find that Fever of your Mind abated In which I left you laſt— Baſſ. aſide. I muſt diſſemble now, Elſe I'll ne'er gain my Ends—my dear Armando, That Fever, thou ſpeakeſt of, is now ſucceeded By a cold Ague-Fit: The bare Remembrance Of my unlawful Paſſion ſhakes my Soul. Arm. Such ſudden Cures have often prov'd pernicious, And we have Reaſon to ſuſpect a Wound Too quickly heal'd— Baſſ. Not when thou knoweſt what Balſom I applied. Arm. There's ſcarce a Balm for the deep Wounds of Love, Beſides Poſſeſſion, and I cannot think You have enjoy'd Aurelia. Baſſ. I ſwear I have not— But I enjoy my Reaſon, my free Reaſon: And who poſſeſſes that, can never cheriſh A Thought againſt himſelf: For ſuch I call Whatſoever keeps me from my lawful Wife, My dear Placentia, to whoſe Arms I'll fly With all the eager Haſte of a fond Bridegroom. There I ſhall revel in the virtuous Pleaſures Of a chaſte Bed—Oh! my Friend Armando! My dear Placentia's Friend! can'ſt thou forgive? Indeed I'm penitent, and will offend no more. Arm. My Lord, theſe are the Words you ſpoke before: What greater Reaſon have I now to think You'll keep your Promiſe? Baſſ. Pride, Honour, Juſtice are come to my Aid, And Love too feeble to withſtand 'em all, Has left the Field to my victorious Reaſon. Pride, with the Proſpect of my future Greatneſs, Allures me to return with Speed to Turin, T' obey my Prince's Orders. Honour and Juſtice tell me I'm Placentia's, And that Aurelia is Alonzo's Bride. To him ſhe gave her Virgin Vows: Nay, more, To him her dying Father did bequeath her; He loves her too, and ſhall not be depriv'd: My Paſſion is ſubdu'd, and I'm reſolv'd Myſelf to give Aurelia to Alonzo. Arm. If this be true, then you are my Friend again: But how came you to learn Aurelia's Engagement to Alonzo? Baſſ. I have it from himſelf, who an Hour ſince, With eager Fury ſought to 'venge on me His injur'd Love, and challenged me to fight: I choſe with Juſtice to defend my Life, And quit Aurelia, rather than to vanquiſh In ſuch a Cauſe—Alonzo ſtrait embrac'd me, Call'd me his Friend, and vow'd I ſhould not go, Till I had ſeen him join'd in ſolemn Marriage With bright Aurelia—This I readily granted. Canſt thou believe me true? Arm. My Lord, I do believe you— And am o'erjoy'd to hear your Reſolution: By Heaven! there's more Glory in ſubduing Our wild Deſires, than an embattl'd Foe. Now do I wiſh his Wife had never come. [Aſide. Baſſ. Armando, Thou'rt my Friend, and on that Score I muſt deſire you to repair to Turin, With all the Speed you can, to bear theſe Letters To our great Prince, and beg he will excuſe My Stay for three Days more—And here this Letter Bear to Placentia—ſpeak to her the kindeſt The ſofteſt Things thy Fancy can ſuggeſt. I ſhall make good thy Promiſe— My dear Placentia! Oh! that ſhe were here Panting and warm within theſe longing Arms! 'Tis a long Age ſince I did ſee her laſt! But come, my Friend, you muſt this Hour ſet forward. Arm. With all my Heart: But 'twill not be amiſs, Before I go, to fix the Victory, Which conquering Virtue in your Breaſt has gain'd; And if what you pretend be real Truth, I have a welcome Preſent for Baſſino. Madam, come forth— Enter Placentia. Baſſ. What do I ſee! my Wife! This was a lucky Plot: [Aſide. Hypocriſy did re'er befriend me more. This was not like a Friend—why ſhould Armando Diſturb her ſoft Tranquillity of Mind, And give her ocular Proofs of my Diſloyalty? Oh! my Placentia! my beloved Wife! [Embraces her. Oh! that I ſhould e'er think to wrong my Dear! Pla. My Lord, waſte not a Sigh on my Account: My Joys are infinite, ſince you are mine, And what is paſt I eaſily forget. Nay, let me beg for Pardon: For I know I have offended you in coming hither. I ſhould have waited this Return of Virtue: Or, if abandon'd, ſilently have mourn'd My Loſs, without upbraiding my lov'd Lord. All this I ſhould have done, but mighty Love, Too powerful for Duty to withſtand, Guided my Steps to Venice In Hopes my Preſence would retrieve your Heart. Baſſ. Gods! that this Woman were Aurelia! [Aſide. Thou Wonder of thy Sex! thou beſt of Women! I bluſh to think that thou haſt heard my Folly: Yet ſince your Love cancels your juſt Complaints, You make me doubly bleſt: And I'll reward This excellent Goodneſs with eternal Fondneſs. Oh! that thou hadſt been here! Not all the Beauties That Venice holds could have diverted me, No, not one Moment from my dear Placentia. Long Abſence is the Bane of new-born Love, But Fate ſhall ne'er have Power to part us more. Plac. Oh! my dear Lord, your Goodneſs is too great: And I'm o'er-paid for all my Sorrows paſt. Armando, ſay, is not he wondrous kind? Arm. Madam, I told you Virtue Was ſtruggling in his Breaſt; and that it might O'ercome his vicious Love, I thought your Preſence Was requiſite—And now, my Lord, I hope You will forgive me, ſince all the Endeavours I us'd before had been in vain. I once Deſign'd to let Aurelia know your Marriage; But then perhaps ſhe would not have believ'd me: Let this plead my Excuſe in ſending for Placentia Without your Knowledge. Baſſ. I muſt not let him ſee I am concern'd. [Aſide. I know 'twas Friendſhip all, well-meaning Friendſhip: I only am to blame: But I'll retrieve My Credit in your Heart, and ſtill deſerve The Name of Friend—And thou, the beſt of Wives, Shalt ne'er have Cauſe to doubt my conſtant Love. Plac. Oh! my Baſſino! this Exceſs of Kindneſs Exalts me o'er all Mortals, if you're true, There's not a Blaſt within the Power of Fortune Can ſhock my Happineſs. Baſſ. Thou ſhalt ne'er find me falſe, I ſwear thou ſhalt not. Oh! that I could engage She would return to Turin with Armando; [Aſ de. For if ſhe ſtays, I never can enjoy My bright Aurelia, and by Heaven I will, Altho' ten thouſand Lives ſhould pay the Purchaſe. Pla. My Lord, you ſeem diſturb'd. Baſſ. It troubles me You can't appear in Venice with a Train That may beſpeak the Rank you hold in Savoy. Plac. to Armando. Oh! Armando! He is ſo kind, I wiſh I ne'er had come! What if I offer to return with you? Arm. Madam, you will do well: For I myſelf cannot ſuſpect him now. Plac. My Lord, let not my Preſence here diſturb you, I doubt your Love no more, and to convince you, I will go back before 'tis known I'm here. Beſides, 'tis fit I ſhould prepare all things To welcome you at home. Baſſ. aſide. Bleſt Opportunity! Fortune I thank thee: Would my Dear then leave me So very ſoon? Alas! 'twill be an Age E'er I return to Turin: Three long Days; No, my Dear, no; I will not part from thee, At leaſt this Night, my Love— Plac. Will then Armando ſtay? Baſſ. No, my beſt Hopes, he inſtantly departs With Letters to my Prince. Plac. Then ſuffer me to go this very Moment. Three Days will ſoon be o'er, and your Return, Shall make me fully bleſt—If I ſhould ſtay 'Twould look like baſe Diſtruſt, and I can't think Baſſino would be falſe— Baſſ. aſide.

Oh! Heaven! that I were not!

Arm Indeed, my Lord, I think you're truly happy, Scarce does any Age produce ſo good a Wife. Baſſ. Oh! that I could reward this wondrous Goodneſs! Plac. My Lord, what makes you ſigh? Baſſ. To part from thee: But ſince 'tis your Deſire, It ſhall be ſo. Armando, to thy Charge I here commit the Treaſure of my Soul, Take Care of her, and think that on her Safety My Life depends. Arm. My Lord, I hope you do not doubt my Care Baſſ. Dear Friend, I do not— May Heaven's Bleſſings ſtill attend my Love, My dear Placentia. [Embraces, and goes to lead her off Plac. As many more guard my Baſſino. Baſſ. aſide. A ſudden Horror ſeizes all my Limbs: I tremble at the Thought of this baſe Deed— [Pulls out his Handkerchief, and drops a Letter, which Armando takes up. Ha—Tears uncall'd for bath my guilty Eyes— Gods! either give me Virtue to withſtand This impious Love, or Courage to purſue it Without Remorſe; for I'm but half a Villain. [Exeunt Baſſino, Placent. Arm. opens the Letter.

A Letter! and to Aurelia! now Curioſity prompts me to know the Subject—What's here?

Reads. I have diſpatch'd Armando to the Court of Savoy, and found Pretence to ſtay behind

Falſe treacherous Man!

This Night I give a Mask at my Lodgings, which, I hope, will divert Alonzo, till the Prieſt has joined our Hands; and while all the Company are engaged in Mirth, I'll ſteal to the dear Arms of my divine Aurelia.

Oh! Villain, Villain! Monſtrous Villain! Oh! poor Placentia! But I will prevent His Policy, and break his wicked Meaſures. [Exit Armando.
SCENE II. Pizalto's Lodgings. Enter Pizalto ſolus. Piz.

Why, what makes this young Jade ſtay ſo long? Adod, this is to pay before-hand—Ha—methinks I hear a Laughing and Giggling in my Wife's Apartment; I muſt know whence their Mirth proceeds. Ho! here's Lucy coming—Harkee you, pray, why did you make me wait ſo long? Nay, I'm reſolved you ſhan't 'ſcape me now— Goes to the Door, and pulls in Ludovico in Lucy's Cloaths, whoſe Commode falls off in the Struggle, and diſcovers his bald Head.] Oh! Benedicite! What have we here? A Man diſguis'd in my Wife's Chamber! and I unarm'd! Oh! Curſt Minute!—Speak, thou wicked Prophet, thou Son of Iniquity, what cameſt thou here for? Ha—Thou Prieſt of Baal, to offer Sacrifices on the Altar of my Wife? Oh! my Head! my Horns weigh it down to the Ground already—Within there, bring me my Sword and Piſtols.

Lud.

A Pox on all Petticoats—What a Devil ſhall I ſay now? Oh! for a Sword! that would be of more Uſe to me now than my Tongue.

Enter Lady Pizalta. Piz.

Oh! thou wicked ſalacious Woman!

L. Piz.

What ails my dear Chucky? Why doſt thou call for Arms, Deary?

Piz.

To cut down that vile Creeper which over-runs thy Garden of Virtue—

L. Piz. aſide.

Now Impudence aſſiſt me.

Ah! Heavens! What's here? A Man in Diſguiſe? A Thief it muſt be—Raiſe the Servants—Oh! Heaven! we might have had all our Throats cut in our Beds—Now for Lucy, for I am at a Loſs to come off. [Aſide.

Piz.

No, no, I warrant, you know he is more gentle in Bed

Lud. aſide.

Oh! the Devil, what does ſhe mean? Death, Hell and Furies! if I come off now, catch me at this Sport again, and hang me—

Enter Lucy. L. Piz.

Oh! are you there, Miſtreſs? How came this Man here in your Cloaths? Ha! Gentlewoman—

Lucy aſide.

How confidently ſhe asks the Queſtion, poor Lady! as if ſhe knew nothing of it! Now muſt I bring her off—For Reaſons you muſt not know, Madam.

Piz.

Ah! Thou wicked Pair of Bellows to blow the Fire of Iniquity! Why, thou art the very Caſement thro' which thy Miſtreſs ſucks the Air of Abomination—Tell me, I ſay, how he came here, and for what—and be ſure it be a ſubſtantial Lie, or 'twill not paſs.

Lucy aſide.

All my Hopes are in her Impudence.

Lucy to Pizal.

Harkee, Sir, one Word with you—Do you remember our Agreement To-night?

Piz.

Why, what of that? ha—

Lucy.

Then imagine what I deſign'd that Gentleman for: I'm honeſt, Sir, that's all—

Piz.

I'm honeſt, Sir, that's all— [Mimicking her Tone.] Honeſt! with a Pox—What! and ſo you honeſtly provided a Companion for my Wife in my Abſence—ha—

Lucy

No, Sir, I deſign'd him for your Companion in my Abſence—This is the Buſineſs he was dreſt for: Therefore no more Words, but believe my Lady honeſt, or all ſhall out.

Piz.

Oh! the Devil! this ſhan't paſs, Huſſy—Do you think I'll be cuckold, jilted, bubbled, and let it paſs for a Chriſtmas Gambol. Adod, give me my Bond again, or—or— [Holds up his Cane.

Lucy.

No—hold there, Sir: Women and Lawyers ne'er refund a Fee: But 'tis your beſt Way to be patient now, I'll not take Blows.

L. Piz.

Why all this Whiſpering? Why mayn't I know the Buſineſs?

Piz.

I am miſtaken if you have not known too much Buſineſs already: But I am right enough ſerv'd—I had more Ground before than I could manage; I had no Need of my Neighbour's.

Lucy.

Right, my Lord; Ground that lies fallow will breed Weeds in Time; but your's is clear yet.

Piz.

Damn your Jeſts: I ſhall expect a better Account, do you hear? I'll find a Servant to ſee you out of Door. [To Ludovico.

[Exeunt Pizalto and Lady.
Lud.

Well, this was an admirable Lift at a Pinch—She has brought me off now—And if e'er they catch me at this Muſick again, I'll give 'em Leave to make an Italian Singer of me—No more Intrigues in Diſguiſe—if it had not been for the Waiting-Woman now, I might have been hang'd for a Thief.

Lucy.

What, all amort, Signior, no Courage left?

Lud.

Faith, not much—I think I have loſt my Manhood with my Breeches—This Tranſformation may ſuit with Gods, but not with Mortals of my Humour—Come, prithee, good Miſtreſs Lucy, help me to my proper Shape again; for tho' I have a natural Inclination to Petticoats, I hate 'em upon my own Back.

[A Flouriſh of Muſick within.
Lucy.

Hark! I hear Count Baſſino's Muſick: He gives a Mask To-night; you are already dreſt for Maſquerade, won't you ſtay and take a Dance?

Lud.

Egad, I'd rather dance a Jig with thee elſewhere: Faith thou'rt a pretty Girl—and haſt a good deal of Wit too—But then, Pox on't, thou'rt honeſt, thou ſayeſt, thou cannot ſwallow a Pill, except 'tis gilded o'er with Matrimony.

Lucy

—And that turns your Stomach, I warrant.

Lud.

Why, Ay: Faith my Stomach is damn'd ſqueemiſh in theſe Matters: Yet, egad, if I could find one with half as much Money as thou haſt Wit and Beauty, I'd marry, and live honeſt.

Lucy.

That is, you'd marry her Money—

Lud.

One with the other, Child: There's no living upon Love, thou knoweſt—Tho' Faith I could live well enough too.

Lucy.

Well, ſuppoſe I help you to a Lady with a round Sum; you'd keep your Word, and marry her?

Lud.

I am a Gentleman, I ſcorn to break my Word.

Lucy.

Well, Sir, come to the Mask, and I'll engage you a Miſtreſs, if you are not over-curious.

Lud. With all my Heart: I'm now reſolv'd to leave this Wenching-Trade: For no Man's ſafe upon a Hackney Jade; Th' Ally of Danger makes the Pleaſure Pain, A Virtuous Wife will always be the ſame.
The End of the Fourth Act.
ACT V.
SCENE I. A Mask in Baſſino's Lodging. Baſſino, Alonzo, Armando, in a Diſguiſe; Placentia in Man's Cloaths, Signior Pizalto, Lady Pizalta, Lucy, &c. An Entry of three Men, and three Women of ſeveral Nations. Baſſ. I Can't imagine where I dropt my Letter: Pray Heaven it be where none can ever find it. Gods! Let me once enjoy her, then call on me Your Store of Plagues, and I will meet 'em all. Enter Ludovico, ſinging. Lud.

Ah! Miſtreſs Lucy! I'm come thou ſeeſt—I expect thou ſhalt be as good as thy Word, Child—is the Lady here?

Lud.

The Lady is forthcoming, if you are ſtill in the ſame Mind?

L. Piz.

My Lover here! Harkee, Lucy.

Lucy.

By and by, Madam, I am catering for myſelf now—Well, Sir, will two thouſand Piſtoles do?

Lud.

I muſt humour her— [Aſide] Ay Child.

Lucy.

Why then, I take you at your Word, Sir, and can produce the aforeſaid Sum— [To Piz.] With a little of your Aſſiſtance, my Lord.

Lud. aſide.

Hum—A pretty Wife I am like to have—Catch me there if you can—

Piz.

Ha—How's that?

Lud.

How! Miſtreſs Lucy, worth two thouſand Piſtoles?

Lucy.

Ay: And I have a very good Pay-maſter for one Half of it two—Do you know this Hand, my Lord? [To Pizalto.] (Shows the Bond.)

Piz. aſide.

Confound your jilting Sneer.

Lud.

Ha, ha, ha—What, a Thouſand Piſtoles a Diſh, my Lord? I hope you don't change often, ha—ha—

Piz.

Huſſy, I'll be reveng'd—'Tis all falſe, 'tis counterfeit.

Lucy.

Ha—ha—But it had been current Coin, if I had ſuffer'd you to put your Stamp upon't—in my Bed-Chamber, my Lord—

L. Piz.

How Miſtreſs, have you trick'd my Husband out of a thouſand Piſtoles, and never told me of it?

Lucy.

Nay, Madam, don't frown—Remember you have tricked him out of ſomething too, which I never told him of—Don't urge me to more Diſcoveries.

Lud. aſide.

So—Here's Trick upon Trick: But, Faith, you ſhall never trick me out of my Liberty. I'm not ſo fond of a Wiſe to marry a Chamber-maid, tho' with ten Times as much Money: and ſo, ſweet Miſtreſs Abigail, your humble Servant.

[Exit. Ludovico.
L. Piz. aſide.

The Jade has me upon the Hip—I muſt be ſilent.

She who has her Husband's Bed abus'd, Can ne'er expect ſhe ſhould be better us'd. [Exit.
Lucy.

Ha—What! my Lover gone I With all my Heart: Better now than after; for whilſt I have my Fortune in my own Hands, I ſhall have no Need to ſue for a ſeparate Maintenance, and get nothing for it neither.

Arm. to Placent. Now, Madam, go: May Heaven be propitious To your Deſigns: I'll ſtay and watch Baſſino: And when he goes, will follow with Alonzo. Pla. Oh! my ſick Fancy frames a thouſand Forms, Which tell me that our Meeting will prove fatal, And warn me not to go, what ſhall I do? Muſt I bear calmly my Baſſino's Loſs? Why do I tremble thus? Sure it can't be the Fear of Death—No, for if I go not I muſt loſe him, and that's more Than Death to me—and if I go, I can but fall, And Life without him is the greater Woe, Therefore I'll on, I'll uſe the ſofteſt Words That Tongue can frame to ſooth her into Pity, And diſſuade her from this impious Marraige. If I ſucceed I am compleatly happy, If not, I'd rather die than live with Hate, But firſt, curſt Rival, thou ſhalt ſhare my Fate. [Exit Placentia. A Flouriſh of Muſick. Baſſ. 'Tis now the Time—But whither do I go? Shall I a Maid, a Wife, a Friend betray? Mo matter— All Arguments are vain, where Love bears Sway. [Exit Baſſino. A SONG. When the Winds rage, and the Seas grow high, They bid Mankind beware, But when they ſmooth, and calm the Sky, 'Tis then they would enſnare, So the bright Thais Kindneſs ſhows, By frowning on her Lovers, For Ruin only from her flows, When ſhe her Charms diſcovers. Piz.

Come now, Gentlemen and Ladies, be pleas'd to walk into the next Room, and take a ſmall Collation—But where's my Lord Baſſino? Come, Gentlemen, he's gone before us.

Arm.

Where we will quickly follow. (Aſide.) Alonzo, a Word with you—

[Exit Omnes.
SCENE II. A Chamber in Aurelia's Houſe. Two Arm-Chairs. Aurelia Sola. Aur. I wonder much at my Baſſino's Stay: Oh! Love! how ſwiftly fly thy Hours away When we are bleſt! How tedious are thy Minutes When cruel Abſence parts two longing Lovers! Enter Florella. Is my Baſſino come? ſpeak— Flor.

No, Madam, A young Stranger deſires to ſpeak with you: He ſays you are not acquainted with his Name, but will ſoon with his Buſineſs, which is ſomething of great Import, that can be told to none but yourſelf.

Aur. A Stranger Buſineſs with me! I know of none I have with Strangers—Heaven! what's this? I feel a ſudden Throbbing in my Heart, As if 'twas conſcious of ſome fatal News— [Aſide. Womaniſh Fears—Admit him— (Exit Florella) it muſt be One of Baſſino's Friends, whom he intruſts To be a Witneſs of our Marriage Vows. Enter Placentia in Mans Cloaths. Pla. Madam, I was inform'd that Count Baſſino Was to be here—and having Things t'impart That much concern him, I made bold to come— Aur. Sir, I expect him ſtraight—if you're his Friend I will account you mine—Be pleas'd to ſit. [Both ſit. Pla. My Brother, Madam, is extreamly happy In being favour'd by ſo fair a Lady— Aur. Your Brother, Sir! is then my Lord your Brother? Pla. Madam, he is. Aur. Then I may call you Brother too; For all the ſolemn Vows of Love have paſs'd 'Twixt him and me—And bliſsful Hymen waits With lighted Torch to tie the ſacred Knot, Which ſhall be done this Honr— Pla. This hour! ſay you? Oh! Madam, have a Care: You tread inchanted Ground, and e'er you know What Path you take, you're hurried to Deſtruction. Aur. Where lies the Danger? Pla. Oh! 'Tis a fatal Tale, yet you muſt hear it; Therefore ſummon your Courage to your Aid, For you will need it all, whilſt I relate The fatal Story— Aur. Ah! how I tremble! Say, is he dead? has any murderous Villain Kill'd my Baſſino? Pla. No—he is well in Health: but his diſtemper'd Mind Is of a wild and feveriſh Diſpoſition, Longing to taſte, what taſted will undo him. Aur. Your ſpeech is all a Riddle: Pray ſpeak plainer: But yet, e'er you proceed, if Count Baſſino lives, I care not what muſt follow, ſince he's mine. Plac. No, he's not yours—Nor ever muſt. Aur. 'Tis falſe—There's not a Pow'r on Earth can part us: Perhaps, You think my Blood to baſe to mix with yours— But, Sir, your Brother loves me, and in Love All Ranks are equal— Pla. No—I wiſh that were all: But there's a greater Obſtacle—He—is—married— Oh! Gods! unfortunately married! Aur. Married! Pla. Yes—Married—to my Siſter, To my unfortunate, abandon'd Siſter. Oh! do not you conſpire t'undo her quite; It is enough, ſhe's falſe Baſſino's Wife. Aur. Gods! Married! And is it poſſible! Oh! faithleſs Men! Oh! Truth! Oh! Juſtice! Whither are you fled? Now all my Fears and Horrors are explain'd. Pla. I'm glad I reach'd this Place in Time, to hinder Thoſe Ills that muſt waited on your Marriage, Now it is in your Power, both to be happy, And, in ſome Meaſure, make my Siſter ſo. [Both riſe. Aur. A Paradox in Nature—Bid Aurelia. Be happy, when you rob her of her Heaven! Her dear Baſſino! Indeed your Siſter may be counted happy, If ſhe's his Wife—Ha—Wife—By Heaven! 'tis falſe— No, no—He has no other Wife but me— He is not married, you bely him baſely— He cannot be ſo treacherous— Pla. Madam, I ſwear, whate're I ſaid is Truth— Do but defer this Marriage for a Day And if I don't produce convincing Proofs, May all the Plagues a Woman can invent Fall on my perjur'd Head— Aur. Defer our Marriage—No, by Heaven I will not. I can't ſuſpect him—Neither do I think You durſt maintain this Story to his Face. Pla. Madam, I dare; Nay, which is more, I'll die, Or vindicate my injur'd Siſter's Honour— Aur. Bold Arrogance! Oh! That he were but here to anſwer the Affront! Perhaps he may have wrong'd your Family: Debauch'd your Siſter; for which you would force him To marry her?—But, I muſt tell thee, Boy, He's mine already: nor would he forſake me To hold Command o'er all the Univerſe. Pla. Oh! Heaven! muſt I bear this! Aur. Nay, expect more, if he ſhould find you here, 'Tis not your being Brother to his Miſtreſs, That will ſecure you from his juſt Revenge. Pla. Revenge! Nay, then away with all Diſguiſe, Pity be gone—And in its Room fell Rage Take place, that I may daſh that haughty Inſolence That dares to treat me thus—Know, Madam, I am his Wife—his lawful wedded Wife. With borrow'd Shape I came to try your Virtue, Which I have found ſo light, that the leaſt Puff Of wanton Love will blaſt it—Elſe my Viſit Had met a better Welcome—Here with Sword in Hand I'll wait his coming, [Draws. And as he enters, pierce thy haughty Breaſt. I know he loves thee, and therefore 'tis brave Revenge, to let him ſee thy dying Pangs: Thy parting Sighs will rack him worſe than Hell. Aur. His Wife! Oh! Inſolence! In vain you waſte your Breath, it moves not me: So much I love him, ſo much I'm belov'd, That ſhould an Angel from yond Heaven deſcend, To tell me he's marry'd, I'd not credit him, Kill me if you dare—He will revenge my Death: That pleaſing Thought gives Courage to my Soul: To live without him would be Death indeed! No—he'll ne'er leave me for a common Thing, For ſuch I'm ſure thou art— Pla. Common! Proud Wretch—by Heaven that Word gives Wings To my Revenge—Vile Creature, die— [Stabs her. Aur. Help,—Murder, murder— Enter Baſſino. Baſſ. Ha—That to my Heart— [kills Plac.] Wer't thou a Demi-god And durſt attempt this Shi •… e, thus ſhouldſt thou fall— Pla. falling. Oh! Baſſino! Oh! Aur. Oh! hold, my Lord, what has your Raſhneſs done? I only ſhould have dy'd—I'll not upbraid Your Treachery—No, 'tis the Hand of Heaven That guides the Stoke that takes my guilty Life, For being faithleſs to Alonzo. Baſſ. Talk not of Death, my fair, my dear Aurelia; That very Sound does harrow up my Soul. But who art than whoſe ſacrilegious Hand Durſt to profane the Temple of my Love? Pla. I am your Wife—Your loving Wife Placentia. Oh! Pardon this raſh Deed; blame jealous Love— And grace me with a Sigh, that I may die contented. Baſſ. My Wife! And kill'd by me! Under what Load of Miſeries I ſtand! Oh! Horror! Horror! Infinity of Guilt! Hurl now your vengeful Bolts, Almighty Powers, On my devoted Head! Oh! I have wrong'd you both: Deceiv'd you baſely: Thus proſtrate on the Ground, let me beg Pardon: [Throws himſelf on the Ground. I do not ask it with Deſign to live. Aur. Oh! Dear Baſſino, live: And try to ſave her, for ſhe's innocent: We only are in Fault— I urg'd my wretched Fate with impious Language, For which I beg Forgiveneſs: Generous Lady, Let not my Soul depart with Guilt oppreſt. Pla. As I forgive you, ſo may Heaven me. Baſſ. Oh! Placentia! Oh! my Wife! Aur. One thing more, and I'm happy— Were but Alonzo here, that I might ask Forgiveneſs for my Falſhood! But, alas! My Spirits faint within my frozen Veins, And every Thing ſeems double to my Sight: Oh! How I dread th'uncertain future State! Baſſ. Unhappy Maid! Oh! my once dear Aurelia! Curſt, Curſt Baſſino! Oh! my Wife! How dare I ſtand the View of both theſe injur'd Women! Oh! Heaven! Why name I Heaven! Heaven will not hear A Wretch like me—No, even Hell wants Torment Proportion'd to my Guilt—Oh! my Placentia! Oh! Pla. Oh! my dear Lord, I cannot ſee you thus: Live, live, my Lord; be happy when I'm dead. Nay, for your Sake, I wiſh Aurelia too May live to make you happy— Baſſ. Oh! hold! Heap not more Curſes on me by your Kindneſs: I wiſh that ſhe might live, but not for me, Only to clear me from her guilty Blood— Oh! Placentia! Pla. Riſe, my Lord, riſe: Do not indulge your Woe, Your Sighs atone for all, and make e'en Death a Pleaſure— I ſee him coming, he will ſoon be here— Baſſ. No, I will never riſe: ne'er ſee the Day. The Sun would bluſh to ſhine on ſuch an impious Wretch. Here let me lie, and tear with theſe curſt Hands [Tears the Ground in a diſtracted Manner. A Paſſage thro' the Earth and hide my Face for ever. Alon. within. Where, where's this Villian? Where's Baſſino? Aur. 'Tis Alonzo's Voice. Oh! fly, my Lord, fly from his juſt Revenge. Enter Alonzo haſtily. Baſſ. Fly— Where ſhall I fly from Juſtice? No, Heaven is kind In ſending him to help my Journey forward. Alon. Where's Baſſino? Baſſ. riſing. Here, Sir, I ſtand. Alon. Then there ſtands a Villain—Ha—what Do I ſee!—Aurelia murder'd! Oh! treacherous Maid, thy Love haſt coſt thee dear, Think not thy broken Vows, and call to Heaven for Mercy. Thy Death I will revenge, becauſe I lov'd thee once. Aur. Oh! Alonzo, pardon me. Alon to Baſſino. Now Villain, now what Story, what Pretence Canſt thou invent to avoid my juſt Revenge? Oh! That I ne'er had liſtned to thy Tongue! Thy baſe, perfidious Tongue! Then all theſe Murders Had been prevented, and thou curſt in Hell— Thou monſtrous Fiend— Baſſ. You talk too much—Let's ſee what you can do: Thus I return your Villian— Alon. Take thy Reward. [They fight, Baſſino falls. Enter Armando Arm. Hold! hold: Oh! Gods! I'm come too late What has my fatal Friendſhip done! Ha—Placentia too—curſt Letter! Baſſ. My Friend Armando! Oh! I bluſh to ſee thee: But let me have your Pardon—now I need it. Arm. Oh! firſt pardon me— For I have been the Cauſe of all this Miſchief. Whilſt my officious Friendſhip ſtrives to ſave you, I bring you all to this unhappy End. Say, can you pardon me? Baſſ. I do— And Oh! my Friend! had Virtue been my Guide, As it was thine, I ſtill were truly happy. Aur. Where am I? Why do I hover thus 'twixt Reſt and Miſery? Oh! good Alonzo, ſay you pardon me, And let me die in Peace, elſe full of Horror My guilty Soul muſt wander in the Shades Of gloomy Night, and never, never reſt. Alon. Thou haſt my Pardon, and with it this Promiſe Never to love again— Aur. Oh! you're—too—kind—and I want— Breath to thank—you—Farewel. [Dies. Baſſ. Oh! Placentia! [Embraces her. Thus in thy Arms my Thread of Life ſhall break. Pla. My Lord, my Husband, Oh! come nearer yet, That I may take a parting Kiſs, to ſmooth My Paſſage to the Realms of endleſs Night. [Kiſſing him. So—Now—I die—much happier than I lived. Farewel— [Dies. Baſſ. Farewel, fair Excellence! Thou beſt of Wives! But I ſhall quickly follow—Yet before I go, I beg, Alonzo, let my Death atone For all the Injuries my Life has done you. Oh! ſpare my Memory, when I'm no more Alon. By Heaven! I ſee ſuch Virtue ſtruggling in thy Breaſt, As makes me wiſh I could prevent the Flight Of thy departing Soul— Baſſ. No, no—I would not live: Hadſt thou not come, my Hand had ſet me free. But now I fell more nobly, and leſs guilty. My Friend, my Dear Armando, Haſte to inform my Prince, Baſſino reſts: But hide, if poſſible, my Shame: And let One Grave hold both this wretched Corps and mine, Oh! my Placentia[Dies. Alon. Unhappy Pair! But far more wretched me! For I muſt live, and live without Aurelia! Tho' I'm convinc'd ſhe lov'd me not, I can't 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 Baniſh her Image from my Love-ſick mind Oh! that I ne'er had ſeen the charming Fair! Arm. The Gods are juſt in all their Funiſhments: And by this ſingle Act, we plainly ſee That Vengeance always treads on Perjury; And tho' ſometimes no Bolts be at us hurl'd, Whilſt we enjoy the Pleaſures of this World; Yet a Day waits, a Day of general Doom, When guilty Souls muſt to an Audit come; Then that we may not tremble, bluſh, or fear, Let our Deſires be juſt; our Lives unſullied here. [Exeunt Omnes.
FINIS.
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