University of Virginia Library

ACTUS II.

SCENA I.

Enter Antonio, with a Guittar playing; to him Felices, Sancho.
Fel.
Whither away, dear friend; not know me?

Ant.
Felices, wellcome, wellcome, faith, so early up! 'tis
Scarce day, being up at play all night
I was going to Julianas lodging.

Fel.
What, to play the Fidler under a whores Window!

Ant.
Away fool, 'tis the onely ornament of a melancholly
Lover, one that doats infinitely on all Women,
And cares not a rush for any one in particular:
A whore! why, hadst thou ever a Mistris thou didst
Not wish to be so? then I have this
Advantage, mine's made one to my hand.
Prythee what fellow's that?

Fel.
Oh, an excellent Rogue I have pick'd up.

San.
Yes, Sir, one that was made so to his hand.

Fel.
Come, come, prythee, let me go with thee,
Her maid will serve my turn, or any thing
That's Woman, I onely love the conversation of
The Sex, no harm in me.

San.
Yes, Signior, you may trust my master,
And for my self, I can do yee prime service,
And sleep (if occasion serve) upon the stairs
Like a Statue half erected, or one whose props
Are warp'd, and so inclineth to the Centre backwards:
Ther's a Term you understand not.

Ant.
Away ye Rogue;
Come here's the house, lets in.

Fel.
No, wee'll give the Donazellas
A Serenade first:
Sirrah, have ye no Castinets?

San.
Yes Sir, here; pray give leave to keep time too
With this Instrument.

Ant.
What, a Grid-iron?

San.
I'll warrant you, shall be as good Musick
As any in Sevil.

Antonio
Sings, they Play the Chorus still altogether.
Chorus Play'd.

San.
Heer's stuff;
Nay, play on, play on, Sir, I can sing
More to this Tune.

Sancho
Sings.

Fel.
[Bursts open the door with his foot and Enters.

San.
That was not so Amorous now;

[A noise of Women within.
Ant.
Nay, nay, let's go in playing.

Enter. Fel.
Fly, fly, the Enemy, the Enemy.

Draws. Ant.
What's the matter, man?

San.
Sir, I'll run for help;
But if I come again.
[Exit Sancho.

Fel.
Oh, Signior, six tall Whores able to Devour
A Regiment, O my Kidneys melt to think on't!
Why, I had rather fight with twelve the best
Men in Sevil, O Diabolo, Rampant, rampant.

Ant.
Why, dost think Women can hurt us?

Fel.
I, I, much more then men;
Why, they all leap'd about me like Fairies,
And smothered me with kisses;
Besides, I spy'd one I have promis'd a new Gown too
This half year.

Ant.
Prythee, come in, Felices.

Fel.
Not I, one at once, were she the Devil, I durst
Meet with; what charge a file of Whores!

Ant.
Come, I'll not leave thee.

[Exeunt.
Enter Signior Lorenzo, and Bartolo.
Lor.
What hour of the morning thinks thou 'tis?

Bar.
'Tis very early, Sir.

Lor.
And hast thou been abroad?

Bar.
I have, Sir.

Ler.
Return'd so soon?
You have exprest much Care;
But have you well perus'd the Markets, Bartolo,
And tane a special note of what was good?

Bar.
I have, Sir.

Lor.
Truly, I hope thou hast; for I have ever found thee
Virtuously inclin'd: I have some Company must
Sup with me, friends, Bartolo, my worthy friends,
And I would not have them think me or
Thee so ignorant, but that we can chuse
The best of every thing.

Bar.
I hope so, Sir, else I had ill imploy'd my time.

Lor.
But to the point, good Bartolo,
What didst thou see, prithee, let me hear thee?
A stool there, boy; these Rogues Eat, and Eat,
And never mind their waiting; some water
For my hands there; troth, Bartolo, I have had
An ill night on't, thou put'st too much Garlick in
Thy sawces: [Belches]
And yet I think 'tis good
Against the wind.

Bar.
I can assure ye, Signior,
I have lick'd my fingers in your Lordships dish this thirty years,
Yet can I boldly say, I never was blest with a juster
Hand, then last night, in all the seasonings.

Lor.
Nay, nay, I do not blame thee much,
May be it do's proceed from Melancholly:
There was a damn'd Colonel supp'd last night with me,
Cut up some six Pyes he never tasted of,
And fill'd the Wine himself, disliking what was fill'd him,
And out of what Bottle think'st thou man?

Bar.
Not out of that mark'd with L.

Lor.
Yes, the same, the very same, good Bartolo.

Bar.
O Monstrous, I never heard of such an insolence!

Lor.
But I have thought of a safer means, hereafter
I'll have thee wait at the Table, and my Wine
Kept, so as no body but may search the
Bottles at the Cup-board, yet never finde
The change was put upon them:
The rarest conveyance, Bartolo,
I learn'd it of a wise Venetian, in my travels of Italy.

Bar.
And truly, my Lord, that is a subtle Nation.

Lor.
It is so, for I have studied much their way and manners.

Bar.
But pray, my Lord, how is this Wine to be convey'd?

Lor.
I will prepare thee for it against night;
This Water is not from the fountain, Sirra,
[Brings in Water.
But from the River, I suspect.

Page.
Indeed, my Lord, it comes from both.

Lor.
Nay, then 'tis well, a little of all do's well, ha, Bartolo.

Bar.
It do's so, my Lord.

Lor.
What a Clock is it now; say you?

Bar.
The Sun's an hour high.

Lor.
S'death, and thou hast not told me yet
What's in the Market, Bartolo.

Bar.
Please you, my Lord, to take your Pen in hand.

Lor.
Begin, I have written in Primis.

Bar.
For Butchers meat, the time of the year
Will easily let your Lordship guess what it is.

Lor.
True, Bartolo, proceed to Fowl, and some Fish.

Bar.
Shall I begin with Fish, or Fowl?

Lor.
With Fish, good Bartolo, with Fish.

Bar.
Why, then my Lord I must assure you, I never saw
The Market better fill'd; for there was of the choicest
Store, but dear, extreamly dear.

Lor.
That's wonderful,
For store (they say) is no sore;
But dearness is a sore, nay, a great one, Bartolo,
It pales the appetite.

Bar.
It do's so, my Lord.

Lor.
But to the particulars, good Bartolo.

Bar.
A brave Cods head.

Lor.
A Cods head, man?

Bar.
Yes, my Lord, a Cods head.

Lor.
Prythee let me hear that again good Bartolo.

Bar.
Why, a brave Cods head.

Lor.
So soon! why, by my account it should not be
These five days yet in season;
But prythee on, where is this Cods head?

Bar.
In the Governours Kitchin by this time.

Lor.
Yee Rogue, yee lie;
In the Governours Kitchin? They know not how to
Dress it; the Heavens would never bless them with the
Luck of such a Rarity; a Cods head now!
So soon! it cannot be!

Bar.
'Tis true, my Lord.

Lor.
Slave, 'twas then thy fault:
This comes on thy drowzy hoggish nature;
You cannot rise, you, nor look unto your Business, Sirrah;
I'le have you ty'd to closer duty, Dog,
And you shall turn the wheel below
With your own beastly weight.
Was ever man so curst as I!
Such Servants! oh such Servants!
I shall be starved, or else be fed
With stinking Mackarel.
O the brave politick Italians,
That early rise to buy their meat themselves!

Bar.
Truly, my Lord, it is not altogether my fault.

Lor.
How, how can that be, let's hear?
Nay, I am reasonable.

Bar.
Truly, I offered two Ryals.

Lor.
Well, and would not that do?
Would not that fetch it?

Bar.
May be with entreaties I might have prevail'd,
And promises of further custom;
But in came that villainous Caterer, and out-bid
Me six Maravedies.

Lor.
What Tyranny is this,
Snatch the morsel from my mouth!
The King his Master were he such a Tyrant
Would finde no Subjects to owne him for their Prince.

[Enter a servant.
Serv.
My Lord, here is a young Gentleman would
Speak with your Lordship.

Lor.
Who is it?

Serv.
'Tis young Signior Felices.

Lor.
Oh tell him 'tis my writing day:
You know he is invited here to supper;
Tell him I should be glad to see him then.
Come Bartolo, I'le write the rest within,
And give thee all directions for this night.

[Exeunt.
Enter Felices, Sancho.
Feli.
Not speak with me?

San.
He sent you word you were invited to Supper;
And then (as I have learnt)
Is his time of speaking.

Fel.
But I would fain have known what Company.

San.
Oh his Nieces, I'le warrant you, Sir,
And all his acquaintance:
To night's a night of mirth.

Feli.
Sirrah, be sure you make us some;
It was the only virtue I took you for.

San.
Sir, and I chose you for the same reason.

Feli.
How's that, you Rogue?

San.
Nay, Sir, this is the way home.

Feli.
Well, Sir.

[Exeunt.
Enter Ferdinando.
Fer.
Thou Arbitrator of all humane Fate,
That giv'st such fair Idæas to the mind!
Thou Passions Ruler, even that of Hate;
Nay, Master of each one to which th'art joyn'd!
Thou whom the wisest do Misguider call,
The Tyrant of our Reason, and our Will
Dost make predominant, to Act in all
Without distinguishing of Good or Ill!
Thou that such Flames canst kindle in one hour,
Nay, thou that canst those violent Flames destroy,
Shewing a Master-Beauty, one whose Power
Is fram'd of all that's Love and all that's Joy!
Yet thou against thy self hast now rebell'd,
And brought new force where thou a Conquerour wast;
And thy own Subject by bright Armes expell'd,
Whom as thy Viceroy in my heart th'hadst plac't:
Shall I obey thee now? speak, shall I love?
Remember what thou counseld'st me before:
But who will judge but that I still shall rove,
If thus I break what I so oft have swore?
I, but Elvira's fair: I, too too fair,
That such polluted Sacrifice as I
Should dare unto her Deity appear,
Scorched before by Beatrices Eye.
[Enter Alvaredo.
Ha, her Brother!
Love hide thy self, since now so guilty grown.

Alva.
What, melancholy, friend?

Fer.
I hope you are not so;
And know by this time 'tis a foolish sin
To pine and languish for a womans Love.

Alv.
No matter what I think;
I'le live as merrily as thee,
Or any man in Sevil;
Hang looking pale, or hanging of the head:
Come let's be merry, very merry;
Where shall we dance to night?
Or shall we go to this peevish woman's,
That she may see how easily I bear her scorn?
Come, wee'l go in Masquerade;
Her frowns can neither make my Vizard blush
With grief nor shame.

Fer.
This mirth is forc'd, come, I know 'tis;
Do not go see the Cause again;
There may be danger in't.

Alv.
And that's the reason I will go:
She then shall see I dare her shot;
Nay, would she now be kind, I would not love again.

Fer.
Are you sure of that?

Alv.
I think I should not.

Fer.
What, and sigh? nay, nay, believe you that will.

Alv.
Prithee don't think of her.

Fer.
Your Counsel comes too late.

[aside.
Alv.
What say'st thou, friend?

Fer.
I wish you did not, Sir;
Nor do not think of going thither.

Alva.
Nay, that I am resolv'd of;
All things are ready for the Masque;
Your Brother goes, and a friend or two more.

Fer.
Come, Sir, I'le wait on you in any thing.

Alva.
How ill on outward shews we place belief!
My mirth is but my overflow of grief.

[Exeunt.
Enter Quintagona, Beatrice.
Quin.
Come, come, Charge, I must not have
You melancholy; why, d'ye know where
We are going? why look up, I say, Charge, thou shalt see him:
You know, I know your mind.

Bea.
Dear Nurse, you know I've trusted you with all
The treasure of my heart.

Quin.
Well, well, and have I ever wrong'd your trust?

Bea.
I do not say thou hast, good Nurse.

Qui.
Why then be merry; be merry, or I'le be
Out of humour, and then who shall dance the Pavan
With Ossorio?

[Sings, Si chirés que lo ramo.
Enter Miranda running.
Mir.
Sister, Sister, Sister! prithee come away, my Brother
Is almost ready.

Bea.
Prithee, dear Sister, take you good notice which is
Fernando; you may go any where, and see how
That he does disguise: I would not be mistaken
In the men.

Mir.
So they be not mistaken in us, no matter.

Bea.
They cannot: me they'l know from thee
By my height.

Mir.
And cannot you know Ferdinando by your heart?
You love? Pish, if I were in Love I could follow
My Lover by instinct, (as a Dog does his Master
By the scent) at two Leagues distance.

Bea.
Fye, Miranda, how thou talkest!

Mir.
Fye, Sister, how you are moapt!
If thou art ordain'd to love, love as I live, merrily.

Bea.
I in love? away fool, I'le turn Nun sooner.

Mir.
Do, good Sister, do, it is a pretty melancholy vocation
That I am infinitely taken with:
Here's Quintagona shall be a Lady Abbess.

Quin.
Why, you young Tit, I could discharge the office,
For all your grinning.

Mir.
Why, who says the contrary, good Nurse?

Quin.
You are always fleering;
But I shall fit you one day.

Mir.
With whom, good Nurse? now I thank you,

Quin.
I won't go now, that I won't.

Bea.
Nay, prithee Nurse. Why, Sister,
Why dost thou vex her so?

Mir.
I? nay, dear Nurse, no dudgeon;
You know I meant no harm.

Quin.
Go, go, I'de trust a Monkey in a Glass-shop sooner.
Come, Charge, let's make our selves ready.

Bea.
Prithee, Miranda, minde what I told thee.

[Ex. Bea. Qui.
Mir.
I'le warrant you; yes buz quite contrary,
I'le assure you, sweet Sister.
Felices, Signior Felices!

[Felices with his head to the door.
Feli.
Here, little Mistress, what's the Matter?

Mir.
Can you make Love finely?

Feli.
Why d'ye ask? may be I can; who's to try?
I hope, since she's too young her self, she set
One to pimp for me.

[aside.
Mir.
Your name is Fernando to night;
Be sure you lead my Sister. Adieu.

[Exit.
Fel.
What do's the urchin mean? I'll try,
And do as she bids me.

[Exit.
Enter Elvira and Bianca.
Elv.
Prithee Bianca, peace, thou know'st not half my mind.

Bian.
I'm sorry, Madam, I've bore my self so ill
As not to deserve your trust now.

Elv.
Indeed, wench, I durst tell thee any thing,
But where thou canst not serve me,
The knowledge would avail thee nothing.

Bian.
But still it troubles me to see you pensive,
It may be sorrow, and then I would be glad to share your griefs;
If it be business you do meditate,
Too heads do's better far then one,
At least in all I would express my duty.

Elv.
I thank thy love and care,
And will e're long acquaint thee with my thoughts:
But Prythee now go touch thy Lute;
For Musick is best Physick for a mind
So out of Tune as mine.

Bian.
Madam, I will obey in All;
What will you please to hear?
Exit Bianca.

Elv.
That which thou sang'st me yesterday.

The Song.
Enter Servant.
Here are some Masquers without, Madam,
Who desire admittance; People of quality they
Seem to be.

Elv.
Admit them: who can they be!
If it be Alvaredo he brings my Dear Fernando
With him; 'tis he, I know him
[Enter Alvaredo, Ferdinando, Felices, Beatrice, Miranda, Quintagona & Sancho: Servants with Torches.
By his Port.
You're wellcome Ladies;
Gallants, so are you:
I know you not, but this is kindly done,
And I must own the Obligation ever:
You see I take a liberty though in the absence of
My Brother.

They Bow, Point to their own Musick for to play; Alvaredo takes Elvira by the hand, and whispers her.
Elv.
You see, Sir, I am civil,
If you hint not the old improper business, Love.

Alv.
Oh, Madam, that is quite forgot:
[Speaks from his Vizard.
You see I'me merry now.
Why should we pine and grieve
For what we cannot help?

Elv.
'Tis true; and I am glad to finde you in that humor.

[Beckens Fernando.
Enter Lorenzo, with Antonio.
Lor.
This is Excellent, most Excellent!
Ah, gallants, when I was a young man I lov'd this
Dearly; Oh, the brave Donzellas I have seen and lov'd
In my travels at Venice; there who but I!
My Gondalo follow'd by the best Musick, stored with
The finest women, my table spread with the best
Of all things; and my Bottle fill'd with best verdu
Monte fiaskou vin Greco, Valga me Dios: it makes
Me mad to think on't. Prithee Signior Antonio, get
Your Sister, the fair Elvira, to accompany these
Gallants to my house to night; I know them all,
They are kindred: there is no scandal
To an old mans house, a friend and servant to the
Count her Brother; her father was my worthy
Friend, but those days are past.

Ant.
I'll do my best, my Lord.
Come pray, Madam, let me intreat you thither;
The time allows much liberty; Come, you must
Not deny the Count Lorenzo, 'twill break
His heart.

Elv.
'Twill be scandalous I fear, Brother.

Ant.
No, no, pish, scandalous; 'tis people of meaner
Quality ought to fear scandal; we are above
Those things.

[Exeunt omnes, the Musick playing before, Except Beatrice and Felices.
Elv.
Will you take the blame upon you?

Ant.
Yes, Madam.

Elv.
Lead on then, my Lord.

Beat.
Oh, my dear Fernando, how I long
To speak with you alone!

Fel.
Follow me, I'll lead you to a private place,
And there—

[Offers to hug her
Beat.
What mean you, Sir?

Fel.
Nay, what mean you, why so coy? Come, come,
I do not love it.

Beat.
Sure, I'me mistaken, or the man is chang'd?

Fel.
Nay, nay, dear mistress, ne're hang back,
Come, kiss me.

Beat.
Ha, sure 'tis not his voice:
Pull of your Vizard, Sir, and then I will.

Fel.
Look ye; now pull of your's, or else you break your
Word.

Beat.
So I must; for I should burst with laughing else:
Ha, ha, ha, ha, was this your trim device?

Fel.
What device, I had none?

Beat.
My sister told me you would take
Fernando's name upon you, and would utter
Such monstrous secrets.

Fel.
Of whom? of what?

Beat.
Why, 'tis a by-name 'twixt you and Quintagona;
They say you make love to her, ha, ha, ha.

Fel.
Oh, this Chit!

[Enter Miranda.
Mir.
Why, sister, sister, ha, ha, ha.

Beat.
Oh, you're a fine Gentle-woman!

Mir.
Why, what's the matter?

Fel.
Madam, I believe this was your own design,
Though you would put it on my pretty Mistress;
I have seen you twitter at me before now,
But I understand a Jest.

Beat.
A Jest, from who d'ye mean?

Fel.
From you, Madam; I were ill bred else.

Mir.
Yes, indeed, sister, 'twere pity of his life else.

Beat.
So, so, this is fine!

[Enter Quintagona
Fel.
Why, look Madam, here's one
Can end the doubt; Come hither Duck,
Did ever I make love to yee?

Quin.
Make Love to me! hang thee.

Feli.
Pa, Nurse, pa, bug words!

Mir.
Nay, fie, Nurse, t'use a Civil Gentleman so!

Quin.
Hang him, I say again, and you too.

Mir.
What, both on's, Nurse?

[Points to her Sister.
Quin.
Yes, him and you: Come, Charge,
What do you do amongst them?
I won't still be us'd so by a Grashopper
And a Weather-Cock: why should you be jeering me
Still? I bred you:
[weeps.
Besides, God made me as well as you.

Mir.
Nay, nor half so well neither;
I think I may speak that without vanity.

Feli.
Indeed, Nurse, that was over-weening:
As handsom as your young Mistress!

Quin.
Well, well, come Charge:
Nay, you're e'en fit for one another.

[Ex. Qui. Bea.
Mir.
Ha, ha, ha!

Feli.
I wish we were, Nurse.

[Ex Feli. Mir.