 | The Siege of Constantinople |  |
SCENE. A Church.
Enter Andrea, Lionello, Lorenzo, and Souldiers.
Loren.
This is the place they meet at: Seize all that come,
The Barge lies ready for you. I'le retire.
Exit.
Andr.
Down all upon your Knees; devoutly Rogues,
To Pray'rs, to Pray'rs!
1 Sould.
That's no usual word of Command Captain.
Lion.
Silence, and to your Beads; Knock 'em apace.
Enter Dorello.
Dorell.
Ha! such a Crowd of Souldiers: Sure 'tis Devotion
To Rob our Lady Altar draws them hither
So early in the Morning. Ha! who's here?
Enter Calista, Udox. Mutantrope.
Udox.
The Boy is like his Master, sure run Mad.
Aside.
Calist.
The Boy grows troublesome: but where's his Master?
Dorell.
Not far off Ladies; but he'll be much surpriz'd
To meet you two I know.
Enter Lorenzo.
Loren.
Hist, hist, 'tis they
They muffle Dorello in his Cloak, and carry him, Mut. and the Ladies out.
Dorell.
Ha! what's—
Enter Priests and Ex. running.
1 Priest.
Hoe there! Sacriledge, Sacriledge,
The Sanctuary's violated.
Enter Irene.
Iren.
I am come time enough; I'm confident
The East Door did just open: I'le to Pray'rs
Till they arrive.
Kneels.
Enter Chancellour.
Chanc.
I must needs see how this Affair succeeds;
Who's this? Val'd! It is some Curtezan,
Whose hot Devotion has bin up all Night;
My Pray'rs will suit with hers—
Kneels by Irene, she pulls off her Glove to feel for a Book; he rises.
Ha! 'tis the Fair Irene! that hand betrays her,
I know it by the Locket.—Lady, your Saint
Is not stirring it—But where are all my Rogues
Drinking their Morning's Draught, I'le be hang'd else,
Though they've bin up all Night; my Secretary
Does use to play me those Tricks.
Enter Priests:
1 Priest.
Here has bin sad Disorders in the Church,
A Gentleman, two Women, and a Boy,
All took away by force, and clapt on Board:
A Barge lay at the Key; I ran and call'd,
But all in vain, for none did dare to stop them;
Their Genowees's did it.
Iren.
Reverend Sir,
What sort of Persons were those carri'd hence?
Chanc.
'Tis She.
1 Priest.
Persons of Quality I'm sure.
Chanc.
They are my Dogs have lit' upon wrong Game—
I'le place them in Retrieve—
Iren.
Pray Heav'n they are not
Some Villains that have seiz'd on Prince Thomazo,
I cannot wish his Falshood that hard Fate.
Enter Thomazo Muffl'd.
Thom.
My Patience is quite lost by lingring doubt.
What Lady's this?
Kneels.
Iren.
Ha! here's the Prince Thomazo.
Thom.
May I presume to ask a Question Lady?
Iren.
What Question Sir?
In a feign'd Voice.
Thom.
Know you the Fair Irene?
Iren.
Yes; and Calista too; but good Sir, peace.
Thom.
Your words make me half think you know my bus'ness.
Iren.
I know 'em both too well.
Thom.
Ha! 'tis Irene!
Enter Chancellour, Andr. Lionel. Souldiers: They seize Irene, and convey her out, whilst the Captain engage Thomazo.
Chanc.
There's the Woman.
Iren.
Help me Thomazo! help!
Thom.
Villains unhand her, she is worth your lives.
Andr.
And Livelihoods too boot: Therefore no passing.
Thom.
I'le give you double Hire, and Pardon too.
Lion.
Ha! Prince Thomazo, I'le keep my double distance.
Enter Priests and seize on Thom. Captains run away.
1 Priest.
Sacriledge, Sacriledge! Murder, Murder!
Thom.
Unhand me Fools—your Sanctuary's broke;
The Fair Irene is forc'd away by Villains.
1 Priest.
We beg your Highness Pardon.
Thom.
Spare your Complements, and make pursuit;
The Fair Irene is lost else.
Exeunt.
Enter Andrea, Lionello, Lorenzo, and Souldiers.
Loren.
This is the place they meet at: Seize all that come,
The Barge lies ready for you. I'le retire.
Exit.
Andr.
Down all upon your Knees; devoutly Rogues,
To Pray'rs, to Pray'rs!
1 Sould.
That's no usual word of Command Captain.
Lion.
Silence, and to your Beads; Knock 'em apace.
Enter Dorello.
Dorell.
Ha! such a Crowd of Souldiers: Sure 'tis Devotion
To Rob our Lady Altar draws them hither
So early in the Morning. Ha! who's here?
Enter Calista, Udox. Mutantrope.
Udox.
The Boy is like his Master, sure run Mad.
Aside.
Calist.
The Boy grows troublesome: but where's his Master?
Dorell.
Not far off Ladies; but he'll be much surpriz'd
To meet you two I know.
Enter Lorenzo.
Loren.
Hist, hist, 'tis they
They muffle Dorello in his Cloak, and carry him, Mut. and the Ladies out.
Dorell.
Ha! what's—
Enter Priests and Ex. running.
1 Priest.
Hoe there! Sacriledge, Sacriledge,
The Sanctuary's violated.
Enter Irene.
Iren.
I am come time enough; I'm confident
The East Door did just open: I'le to Pray'rs
39
Kneels.
Enter Chancellour.
Chanc.
I must needs see how this Affair succeeds;
Who's this? Val'd! It is some Curtezan,
Whose hot Devotion has bin up all Night;
My Pray'rs will suit with hers—
Kneels by Irene, she pulls off her Glove to feel for a Book; he rises.
Ha! 'tis the Fair Irene! that hand betrays her,
I know it by the Locket.—Lady, your Saint
Is not stirring it—But where are all my Rogues
Drinking their Morning's Draught, I'le be hang'd else,
Though they've bin up all Night; my Secretary
Does use to play me those Tricks.
Enter Priests:
1 Priest.
Here has bin sad Disorders in the Church,
A Gentleman, two Women, and a Boy,
All took away by force, and clapt on Board:
A Barge lay at the Key; I ran and call'd,
But all in vain, for none did dare to stop them;
Their Genowees's did it.
Iren.
Reverend Sir,
What sort of Persons were those carri'd hence?
Chanc.
'Tis She.
1 Priest.
Persons of Quality I'm sure.
Chanc.
They are my Dogs have lit' upon wrong Game—
I'le place them in Retrieve—
Iren.
Pray Heav'n they are not
Some Villains that have seiz'd on Prince Thomazo,
I cannot wish his Falshood that hard Fate.
Enter Thomazo Muffl'd.
Thom.
My Patience is quite lost by lingring doubt.
What Lady's this?
Kneels.
Iren.
Ha! here's the Prince Thomazo.
Thom.
May I presume to ask a Question Lady?
Iren.
What Question Sir?
In a feign'd Voice.
Thom.
Know you the Fair Irene?
Iren.
Yes; and Calista too; but good Sir, peace.
Thom.
Your words make me half think you know my bus'ness.
Iren.
I know 'em both too well.
Thom.
Ha! 'tis Irene!
40
Chanc.
There's the Woman.
Iren.
Help me Thomazo! help!
Thom.
Villains unhand her, she is worth your lives.
Andr.
And Livelihoods too boot: Therefore no passing.
Thom.
I'le give you double Hire, and Pardon too.
Lion.
Ha! Prince Thomazo, I'le keep my double distance.
Enter Priests and seize on Thom. Captains run away.
1 Priest.
Sacriledge, Sacriledge! Murder, Murder!
Thom.
Unhand me Fools—your Sanctuary's broke;
The Fair Irene is forc'd away by Villains.
1 Priest.
We beg your Highness Pardon.
Thom.
Spare your Complements, and make pursuit;
The Fair Irene is lost else.
Exeunt.
| The Siege of Constantinople | |