 | The Successfull Straingers |  |
The Second ACT.
SCENE. I.
A Hall.Enter Guzman and Farmosa.
Guz.
Nay, prethee Farmosa,
Far.
Avaunt Traytor, hang thy self false one.
Guz.
Nay, why in this fury?
Far.
Have I not reason, have I beheld thy Eyes.
This three days; did I yield up my Honour my unspotted Virginity?
Guz.
Of fifty years standing, an old dry'd Pumpkin.
Far.
To such an unworthy Perjur'd Villain, and no sooner obtain'd,
but slighted, like a Jugglers trick when 'tis discover'd.
Guz.
Indeed there was no great Conjuring in thine:
Far.
I could keep nothing from you, told you my Love, and gave
you my Love; what tho' I did languish for you, must I reveal it like a
fool, could I not keep it to my self? Ah wo be to those that make their
Secrets known, so I say. Time was that the Cock should never wake
the Morning, nor the Owl welcome Night, but Farmosa should be visited;
But now I am laid by, like an old Deed, which when once prov'd
is Examin'd no more.
Guz.
These Stale Maids are so Amorous; Why I have been out of
Town Farmosa, my Master has had bus'ness for me, to prepare things
for his Wedding, which I suppose may be unspoke again, or else I would
no more have been from thee, then a Gander from his Goose when she's
a hatching.
Far.
Go, go, 'tis False, my Fondness has made you loath me.
Loath thee, thy voice is sweeter then the Early Lark's, (and
shriller,) Thy breath's as fragrant as a foggy Morning; Thy cheeks
appear like Roses (Dryed for Cakes) And Dimples like the Hollows
of two Ovens; Thou art all over Admirable (ugly)
Far.
Away, away, you flatter me
[pats him on the Cheek]
Guz.
By this, and this, I speak my Soul.
Far.
And will you always love me?
Guz.
Hum—
[Huggs her.]
Now tell me my Farmosa,
The reason of this breach between our Family.
Far.
Why know you not the quarrell 'twixt my Master and your
own?
Guz.
Ah, but is that all the Cause?
Far.
All that I know of.
Guz.
Has not our Lady think you some aversion to the Person of my
Master, has she not seen a Stranger whose Gay Demeanour and Accomplishments
has plaid the Cupid in her heart.
Far.
What mean you?
Guz.
Nay my Farmosa, if thou lov'st, be Reall, is there a Secret I
would keep from thee, by this there is not.
[kisses]
Far.
I never see you but for Information, and you are as short in
your visits as an Eminent Physitian, I am the Pulse by whose beating
you find out my Mistrisses Inclinations, and when you once know the
state of her Body never Enquire after mine.
Guz.
This night I'le give thee proof of my Enquiry,
But prithee tell me, has not our Spanish Dame
Some Longings for an English Breed?
Fra.
Why truly I guess some such thing, but have no positive
Demonstration.
Guz.
Does she not seem to be in Love?
Fra.
How seem?
Guz.
Does she not sigh and covet being alone, make Contrary Answers
sometimes to Questions; Does she not slight her meat; and with
her Knife scratch figures on her plate, mince her fruit small, then toss
it up and down, fancy strange things it'h fire and in the Clouds, blush
if she hears an Englishman but mention'd, does she not read Romances,
and delight much in standing at the window of an evening, cry sometimes
to thee Oh Farmosa, then stop as if she had forgot her self, Complain
she cannot sleep, and of odd Dreams.
Fra.
Why, are these signs of Love?
Guz.
O Great ones:
Fra.
Then surely I am so:
Guz.
Pox on thy observation.
For I can sit and sigh a whole day long, fancy strange things
i'th fire, love standing at the window, love reading of Amours, there
are but two things we differ in.
Guz.
Prithee what are they?
Fra.
Why I eat heartily and sleep soundly:
Guz.
Thy sighs will never give thee the Chollick,
But tell me did'st never observe any of this in her?
Fra.
Why truly I have, and if I see you to night, I'le take care to
get it out of her: not but I know it already, but the Rogue will balk
me anon if I tell him now.
Guz.
Wilt thou be Diligent?
Fra.
As a knave for an Employment: Go at ten, I'le wait at the little
Back-garden, here take the key, you must go out that way, for it
you are seen it may cost your Bruises some Brandy:
I'm call'd, Adieu.
[why Farmosa within
Guz.
One word, hast thou no little Sum to spare thy Lover, no trifling
Doubloon, no Idle Pistol.
Far.
What pay before-hand Signior:
[Exit running
Guz.
'Tis so, she loves this Stranger, and anon I shall know all:
Tis a fine Life we serving-men do Lead:
Our Masters take the Mistris, we the Maid:
If Ladys you'l not have your secrets known;
Keep us asunder or your work's soon done:
[Exit.
SCENE II.
A Garden.Enter Carlos and Francisco.
Fra.
What! turn thee out of Doors?
Carl.
Ay Sir, and menac'd me with Death when next I enter'd.
I vow'd revenge which but Encreas'd his Laughter,
When he had Sworn me to Eternall Love,
And everlasting faith to Dorothea:
He render'd all my Oaths ridiculous:
Then with the very Curse which I invok'd,
If ever I prov'd treacherous to his Daughter,
He wish'd the like Destruction might seize him,
If ever more I after that beheld her.
Fra.
Why let him keep his two Daughters, Like an old Lott as he is,
and multiply his Generation himself: What think'st thou Carlos of the
fair Biancha, Younger and Richer far then Dorothea, who Languishes
too for thee, and from her Infancy almost has Lov'd thee; besides Boy
thou knowst thou wert in a manner promis'd to her.
Carl.
But Sir, can you so easily forget the villain.
Must all my Presents too be slighted and yet kept?
Must all—
Fra.
Presents, no, I forgot that Boy; I'le make him refund, or
swear him into the Inquisition for Blasphemy.
Carl.
No, Since my Love's despis'd I'le court revenge;
That's now the Mistriss of my eager Flames,
which nothing can asswage but Silvio's blood.
Fra.
Blood, Boy:
Carl.
Ay Blood Sir, Rivalls blood,
The precious blood that Dorothea doats on;
My wanton hands shall play in the warm Gore;
Then on her face the purple Scandall print,
And shew my Injuries in lasting Blushes.
Fra.
A Rivall Boy; by the head of our Church thou hast reason, or
hold Carlos, hold, suppose now we should contrive some dreadfull Infamy;
some terrible disgrace that he may live with;
Carl.
As how Sir?
Fran.
Why as a punishment for his endeavouring to supplant thee in
this Ladies Quarters; we'le make an Eunuch of him: and he shall repent
in Anthems.
Carl.
An Eunuch—Damn him that would make him bless'd;
Women are ne're so fond as when secur'd of pleasure
Without Scandall;
No, 'tis his heart must feed my hungry spleen,
The heart which disinherited my hopes,
And was Adopted Heir of all my wishes.
Fran.
Why Murder him; and there's an end on't:
Don't stand mouthing like a Lawyer that has
Puzled his Cause, and knows not how to get clear
On't; hang him Dog, have his Throat cut, and
Encourage decay'd Trade; our Bravo's grow
Pious, the times are so bad, and go to Church
For want of Employment.
Carl.
It shall be so, I'le have him set with speed,
Not but I wou'd engage with him alone,
But he that robs my Love deserves it not;
A Rivall, nay, A Heretick, those words
Here Guilds a Murder wrought by 50 Swords.
[Exit.
Fran.
So here's a fine Feast providing for the Devil; I must have a
tugg with my old Antagonist for the 5000 Crowns his Daughter has
cost me; Ah that I could persuade this Platonical Fool, this Dorothea's
Flesh-fly, to Marry Biancha, there's a Fortune: Her Father's a Fool too,
and might easily be brought to take my Son without a Groat; damn'd
knows I am past getting of Children, or I would so penay-bind the
Rogue, he should scarce have enough to pay the Fees of his Confessour:
Children are great Plagues, not but Parents are great Rogues, tho'
sometimes I know not which are the worst:
If the Estate be by the Father Gain'd,
The Childrens duty is by hopes obtain'd
Of what he'l leave 'em: else he might be damn'd;
For when the Estate's entail'd upon the Son,
There's no respect to Parents, 'tis his own,
Scorns 'em on Earth, and laughs at 'em when gone:
So one 'gainst the other may exclaim each hour,
But both of 'em are Rascalls in their Power.
[Exit.
Scene Changes to the back-side of a Church.
Enter Silvio and Sancho.
Sil.
How goes the Evening, Sancho?
Sa.
Very nigh Sunset, Sir.
Sil.
Be on your Guard, this Country is not to be trusted late.
Sa.
I am provided Sir, Well-Weapon'd, and Well-fed,
Like a Town reliev'd I could sally furiously:
Sil.
The God of Day does so his Thetis hast,
In Clouds of Gold and shining purple dress'd,
Each labouring Husbandman its setting waits,
And to his course, but welcome home retreats:
The Drudging Oxen from their Yoaks are freed,
And scattering Ews which on the Mountains fed
Are by their Shepherds to Enclosures led;
Whilst the Gay Chirping Flutterers of the Air
To their own mossy Architects repair.
Sa.
Sir, Sir:
Sil.
What say'st thou?
Sa.
Does the Devill ever walk in these holy Countrys?
Sil.
I never saw him Sir.
Sa.
I thought he had practice enough in England to keep him from
Rambling.
Sil.
No Sancho, they tell us he's every where:
Sa.
I would not have left it, if I had thought so.
Sil.
Why?
Sa.
Because we believe we give the Devil the slip when we go to
another Country.
Sil.
Indeed.
Ay, and that's the reason they say of our Gentry's Travelling
so much.
Enter Farmosa in a long black Veil, and strikes Sancho on the Shoulders.
Far.
Come with me Seignior!
Sa.
I am taken Sir, he has me,
Sil.
What are you?
Far.
Is you name Silvio?
Sil.
It is.
Far.
Follow me then to Dorothea.
Sil.
Thou hast mention'd one would Charm me any where.
Far.
Is not that your Servant?
Sil.
He is.
Far.
Take him he may be of use:
Sil.
Sancho.
[kicks him.
Sa.
Satan.
Sil.
Rise for shame, we are all Friends,
Why dost thou not speak?
[He rises and stares; Trembles, but cannot speak, and makes Signes to 'em to be gone.
Far.
His fright has lost his Speech; come on Sir.
Sil.
Where ever thou wilt lead.
A Priest crosses above the Stage, which Sancho seeing.
Exeunt.
Scene Changes to Dorothea's Bed-Chamber.
Enter Dorothea and Feliciana.
Fel.
What fall in Love with a Stranger?
Dor.
Well Tyrant, well:
Fel.
Nay, upon my Conscience 'tis a Judgment upon thee;
You that could slight the worthyest of our Countrey,
And walk in State through Lands of bleeding hearts:
Dor.
Sister, the time may come when I may give you back this
Triumph.
Fel.
Not for my loving a Stranger Dorothea:
Dor.
I am sure he is a Gentleman:
Fel.
Nay, he may be Jove for ought I know in disguise:
'Tis not the first time the Deiety has plaid Truant above to divert himself
here.
Dor.
For shame Feliciana.
Fel.
For Grace Dorothea, do not throw thy self away thus:
How can I help it?
Fel.
Help what?
Dor.
Being in love:
Fel.
I don't blame thee for loving, but I discommend thy choice.
Dor.
He has in Appearance all that woman can be fond of.
Fel.
Have a care of that; some lay he's an Italian, and he is not the
first of that Country in Breeches that has wanted somewhat of all a woman
would be fond of.
Dor.
Fye, Fye, you'r wicked:
Fel.
Well, I wish his behaviour may reward the great faith you have
in him.
Dor.
Well I have told you my mind, and what I desire of you: I do
love and must love him, let my Future fate be what it will. And you
may choose a Rich Gay thing for your self out of the Dons you spoke of.
Fer.
Thank you for what you can't eat, Madam, Bless me from such
motions of men: why they're so fond of themselves, that unless it be
you, their eyes survey nothing else; what should I do with such waxwork?
They're sit for nothing but to set off a mantle-tree, or furnish
out a Closet.
Dor.
Wou'd they had you in a closet to stop your mouth.
Fel.
By my faith I don't believe I should cry out for 'em, why, they
can do nothing to a woman but stare at her, nature never intended these.
Animals for anything but ornament, like Swans they make a shew, but
are good for nothing—they are pretty Parrot-keyts to hold in ones
hand, or to be strok'd like Squirrills.
Dor.
Have a care of their Tales Sister.
Fal.
Do you look after your own; and if thou art Conquer'd by
this Silvio, who may be a Tinker for ought thou knowst, we may find
the effects of his love in three months, and see you carry his Budget before
you.
Enter Farmosa.
Far.
Madam Don Silvio:
Dor.
Prithee retire:
Fel.
I am gone—but I will have a peep at him, tho' my Curiosity
prove as fatall as Acteons; it may be a stranger I have seen, and I should
be loath to Jump in a fancy with her.
[Exit
Dor.
What shall I do?
Oh Silvio, I would Indulge thee,
But let me not be thought too easy by it.
Farmosa retires.
Silvio.
Thus Pilgrims after many a weary march,
When they have reach'd the purpose of their Travails,
Bow to the Shrine their eager zeal had sigh'd for,
Paying like me their reverend Acknowlegements.
Dor.
Rise Sir, I can forgive your Flattery,
Since 'tis the Generall practise of your Sex.
Sil.
To Flatter here would be a Crime indeed,
Nor know I how, if it would help my cause,
Yet I could talk for ever on the Theame:
The God entices us to shew our follys,
And prove his powers too high for words to reach,
For when our thoughts Engage to search the wonder
Like notions of Eternity they're Puzled,
Brought back to their first fond Imagination,
Admiring what they cannot Comprehend.
Dor.
How his Tongue charmes me.
Sil.
Oh Dorothea, If a Love like mine could be related,
'Twould disgrace its passion:
If thou art angry with me I must love
For I'm a Biggot in the Mistery;
And have a faith defys all Arguments.
Dor.
Sir, you mistake the Intention of my Message.
If you surmise that Love directed it;
I sent to you out of a Generous pitty,
Unwilling (being a Stranger) you should fall
Under the Error of your Courtesy;
Nor do you know—
Sil.
Alas I would not know;
Wretches that dread their doom endure enough,
Without the terrour of a Confirmation;
Therefore I beg that I may only fear;
Fears may have hopes:
Hope is the only Cordiall for our fears,
A vain uncertainty by Errors nourish'd;
A fond opiniator of it self:
Cheated by distant probability.
Dor.
You ought to fear my frown, and hope my pardon:
Not back one Insolence with another,
Daring to think of Love to one yo've Injur'd.
Sil.
To one I've Injur'd, then my Love's a fault!
Dor.
Know you not Spain's notorious for Resentment,
Nay even the woman often suffers Death,
For the presumption of the man she knows not;
What are you that expose your person thus,
Under the vanity of an Admirer?
Sil.
I am a Gentleman of Spanish blood;
Tho' born out of the Country.
My family's well known when I shall name 'em.
They sent me forth being fond of my Improvement
To see what the reputed parts o'th world
Could store my Observation with:
But oh the wonders which I thought I had seen,
Are as far short, of what I now behold,
As I am in my hopes of gaining it.
Dor.
They're nearer then thou think'st for:
[Aside
He steals upon my Soul too hastily;
I find I yield too fast, yet cannot help it:
Sil.
Inform me Dorothea how to please thee,
I am like a Travailer in unknown land,
Where severall beaten ways confound his choice;
Direct my Soul in its perplexity,
And guide it to the Paradice it seeks for.
Dor.
I know not how to shun or meet my wishes,
It must be done; but why so hard to do?
Like one that's to a tedious Journy bound,
Tyres e're half his Travel is perform'd,
Fond of his end but troubled to get to't.
Sil.
May I not hope a word?
Dor.
You are too bold;
Yet I forgive what's past;
But leave the Town, and never see me more.
Sil.
Oh heavy task, impossible to undertake or do!
Dor.
Do you think the prize so easy to be won,
Or that your face can meet with no denyall?
Or can you think so meanly of my worth
To give the least Encouragement to one,
Who only is acquainted with my eyes?
No; could you like Deitys create your self,
Master of all the Graces in the world;
Each should present it self in full perfection;
E're I would listen to the tale of love.
So Sir retire, and tell the world that once
You met a woman could withstand your Charms:
Sil.
And tell how fatally her own has used me.
Dor.
I'le speak no more:
Sil.
Yet stay and hear a little more,
My Souls contriving some way to obey thee;
And it would soften too some way thy Judgment:
That I must leave thee, in thy eyes I read it:
I see thy Pride disdains my Sacrifice:
'Tis thrown aside like common Offerings,
It has but to thy number added one,
And lyes without distinction with the Mass:
Oh! If I never must behold thee more,
Let my Bless'd Rivall rid thee of this Monster:
I want the power to Execute thy will;
I shall be fond of Living whilst thou art here,
For Heaven is only Certain, where thou art.
Dor.
Will you not go?
Sil.
I cannot stir; I would obey thee, but my Limbs
Refuse me.
Dor.
Mine like their standing too.
Sil.
Oh why you powers did you direct me hither?
Fond of beholding more, I have lost all,
which my Enquiry has so long pursu'd,
So fares it with the Merchant, who his store
Would fain Encrease by ventering for more,
Sends out his Laden Barque to some new shore,
But oh like me Shipwrackt upon the way,
Curses himself, his fate, the winds and Sea.
Dor.
Oh Silvio:
Sil.
What said you Madam?
My Sinking Soul flyes upward to that Sound,
Like one upon its Journey to destruction,
When the bless'd voice of a Repreiv's behind it.
Dor.
Out nice Impertinence; Stubborn Usurper,
Thou Sullen honour why dost bind me thus?
Sil.
Did you not call, or did I dream being fond
Of wishing it?
Dor.
Who can deserve me better then the man I love?
It must be Silvio.
Sil.
I am here.
Dor.
So thou art here indeed, out with it then, Silvio.
Sil.
Dorothea:
Dor.
Silvio!
Sil.
Dorothea!
Oh I can nothing sound but Silvio, Silvio!
Sil.
Dorothea, Dorothea, Dorothea.
[Embraces
Oh let me clasp thee ever in this Circle,
Like Antony I could despise the world,
And in thy Charms let all ambition perish.
Dor.
Oh! I have gone too far.
Sil.
Thou never wert so near thy self as now,
Dor.
I trust thy honour, do not wrong my faith;
Nor give my easy Soul a misconstruction.
I could have held out longer for Condition,
Like Towns when the Besiegers are in doubt,
At best Discretion make their Articles;
But trust me Silvio, I abhor the guile
My Subtle Sex approve so Politick;
At thy first setting down before me, I resign,
Hoping to make thee by it faster mine.
Sil.
Oh I will study more then can be ask't,
My Gratitude shall struggle with thy Love
Which shall exceed:
My diligence shall still be at thy call,
And give thee more if possible then all.
Dor.
The Match 'twixt me and Carlos is broke off;
Prove thy self worthy of my Fathers choice:
Nothing can barr our bliss.
Sil.
Oh I will give him firm Security, I am
Worthy of thy blood, tho' not thy Love.
Enter Farmosa.
Far.
Madam your Father has enquir'd for you,
I sent him to the Garden!
Dor.
Then we must part?
Sil.
But with design that our next meeting may be longer.
Dor.
To morrow I shall be at Chappell, There we may Feast our
Eyes and fancy more; be watchfull of your self, and at Night be where
you were this Evening, and you shall be conducted here again.
Sil.
Be swift ye Fiery Steeds and mount the day,
Or get the Night to exchange with thee for once,
The Tedious hours I'le wast in fancied Scenes
Of the past passages of our Extreams:
Call on to Morrow, oh to morrow come,
And give my Soul a prospect of its home,
Hug thee in thought whilst my delighted Tongue
In Raptures shall express thee all Night long:
And Dorothea be my only Song.
Exeunt.
| The Successfull Straingers | |