University of Virginia Library

Actus Secundus.

[Scena Prima.]

Arabella, Clara, in Boyes Apparel.
Ara.
Tell me thy Name, and Parentage.

Cla.
My name is Infortunio, for my Birth,
I claim an honest, but no high discent,
A Shepherds Son in Sicily.

Ara.
Infortunio!

Cla.
A Name which answers my misfortunes, Madam.

Ara.
Alas thy face does shew the petty griefs
Thy Age has undergone, the Sun did broil
Or the cold Air did sometimes make thee quake,
Or hunger tyranniz'd for want of break-fast.
Upon thy empty Stomach: can'st thou sing?

Inf.
According to our Rural way I can.

Ara.
Pretty Boy! Prithee be not so bashful,
But begin.

Ara.
How happy is this Boy, who sings his Aires,
And makes his pastime out of others cares!
Ah that I were as ignorant as he,
He knows no love, therefore no misery,
But Women are too apt (heav'n knows) to learn,
To wish, to blush, and next to have concern.

Enter Cicco, Furfante.
Fur.
Yonder's my young Mistress, Sir.

Cic.
Lead me to her, what Company?

Fur.
Only a Page, a little Youth.

Cic.
A very pretty Youth.

Fur.
Of a black, as e're you saw.

Cic.
Yes, yes, I see that, a pretty Moor.

Cla.
Is he mad, or blind, or both?

Fur.
He's blind, and mad, and both.

Cic.
These are but shifts, Apron-string policies,
No more, 'tis my command, shew your obedience.
You have not seen Garbato lately?

Ara.
You did command the contrary, and I obey'd.

Cic.
It well became your duty—
He'll be so wise I hope t'absent himself,
His entertainment shan't incite him hither,
Let Beggars marry in their Tribe, and so
Maintain their race, I must have you prepare
To be the rich Honorio's Bride.

Ara.
Dear Sir—

Cic.
Nay no reply, your warning's short, I'le see
You married my self to morrow Morning.

Fur.
He talks of seeing still, where are his Eyes?

Cla.
Can'st not perceive, they're alwayes in his Mouth.

Fur.
You mistake, his fight's there, his eyes
Are in his head.

Cic.
Here, take this Purse, and see you fit your self.
[Exit Cicco.

Ara.
What for a Sepulcher?

Cla.
A Bridal Bed, dear Madam.

Ara.
'Twere less injurious to wish a Tomb.

Cla.
I'me glad she hates him yet, there's some hope left,
If my poor stars prove kind, however I'le
Aid them.
Madam, so strange a sadness clouds your Soul
As wou'd move pitty in a senseless Statue,
Therefore impute it not to impudence,
If in compassion of your miseries,
I proffer my poor service to perswade
Honorio to forsake your Love, and leave you
To your choice.

Ara.
Thou speak'st a blessing rather to be wish'd,
Than hop'd for, or obtain'd.

Cla.
Be not distrustful.
You know not how my innocence can plead,
Arm'd with your cause; if he has any pity,
I'le use such soft and tender language to him
As shall dissolve his soul into compassion.

Ara.
Thou hast indeed a moving language Boy,
And thy looks, with me, have power to perswade
Beyond the Charms and Tropes of Rhetorick.
May they with him find equal grace, and Power.
Tell him my heart, and love, was pre-dispos'd,
That 'tis not Pride, but Love, refuses him;
Bid him not take it ill, that I am constant,
For Death to me is welcomer than change;
That if he ceases to prosecute my fate
He will deserve my pitty, and such Love
As gratitude, and honour can dispense.
But if he will persist my dreadful'st hate,
That from my Love he'll at such distance be
He scarcely will be worth my Charity.

Cla.
When he knows this, he'll surely blame his Love,
And straight endeavour to suppress his flame.
But I wrong your service by deferring it.

[Exit.
Ara.
Whil'st he employes his richest eloquence
In mitigation of Honorio's Love,
I must make use of my own diligence
To find Garbato and discover to him
The hasty rigour of my Fathers Will:
I am inform'd he often does frequent
My Uncles House, but upon what design
I can't surmise, unless he hope from thence
To reap advantage to our love:
However boldly, I'le adventure there,
She shou'd fear nought, 'has every thing to fear.

[Exit.

Scena Secunda.

Riccamare, Garbato.
Ric.
As she's set together, she appears
Reasonably handsome.

Garb.
Like the grave Governess of a Roman Bawdy-house,
But when she's disjoynted, like a new dissected
Anatomy, then tell me thy opinion.

Ric.
I warrant you, a gilded Pill will down.
But did'st observe her Conscience, how 'twas spiced?

Garb.
Like a Wassal bowl, or a pepper posset, it bit agen.
She's not like our Shop-keepers, that vent their
Wares by a false light, she'll have you survey
The Commodity well, that you may not repent
The bargain.

Ric.
Blame her not, she's honest and kind.

Garb.
As Cats when they first grow proud, all her
Caresses will consist in scratching, and like
The Russian Lasses, she must be basted, to be
Made sensible of thy kindness.

Ric.
The Woman's well, considering her wealth.

Garb.
I fear thou'lt scarce like her when thou
Hast seen her imperfections.

Ric.
Why, are they so horrid?

Gar.
Faith I know not, but the Ceremonie gives
Much of Terrour—she's made of several
Loose Parcells, that's certain; and to have an
Arm taken off, turn into a Cats paw; her
Nose convert to a Swines Snout, her Periwig
To Hares, and her Legs to Grey-hounds to course
Them, wou'd it not startle thee?

Ric.
Thou art as whimsical as a Court Lady
Studying of new fashions, I cannot imagine
Half these deformities.

Garb.
May she prove the Figure of Helen! or rather
May her wealth make her appear so!
Enter Amante.
My dear Amante, 'tis above an Age,
Since I had last the happiness to see you.

Aman.
Perhaps you'l wish you had not seen me now.

Garb.
You wrong our Friendship much; your reason Sir?

Aman.
Dismiss that Gentleman, and I'le inform you.

Ric.
I shall see you at my lodging.

Garb.
In time to wait upon you to the party.

[Garbato whispers Riccamare.
Ric.
Be sure you don't forget.
[Exit Riccamare.

Garb.
You know my forfeit. Now Friend I am yours.

Aman.
You knew my Love once to Constantia.

Garb.
And have lamented oft, the change.

Aman.
That Crime must be imputed Sir to Love,
Or beauty which commands it; however now
I am summon'd to answer it with my Sword.

Garb.
I thought Constantia had prevail'd upon
Her Brothers rage, to let it sleep.

Aman.
'Twas so believ'd, and that she had confin'd
His fury by an Oath; I must avow
Her pity therein did affect me much,
For I was loth to justifie a Crime
Love made me so unwillingly commit.

Garb.
What's the occasion then of this new quarrel?

Aman.
I know not well, but he seems to charge me
With fresh injuries, which I averring false,
He call'd me Coward, thy Friend Amante Coward.

Garb.
Just Gods! and when d'you Combate him?

Aman.
Immediately, if you but honour me so far,
As to appear my second,

Garb.
You know you may command me.

Aman.
'Tis time we did attend him.

Garb.
Away, this Arm unto my Sword shall lend
A double vigour to revenge my Friend.

[Exeunt.

Scena Tertia.

Constantia.
Con.
Now that my Brother's safe, my next design
Must be, how to secure his fame, for honour
To a Cavaleer of his Complexion
Is of more dear concern by far than life:
'Tis an hard Task, yet what I want in Art
My Courage shall supply, for I'me all heart.
I heard some tread, I will obscure a while.

[She hides behind a Tree.
Enter Buggio.
Bug.
The Coast is clear, and I've time to invent
Some delicate Romance, a fine-spun lie
To please my fancy, and to save my bones,
Shou'd fair Constantia miss of her design
To stay Honorio.

Con.
He speaks of me, I'le listen nearer.

Bug.
If he come first Amante's very sick,
And sent a Messenger to make excuse.
But if Amante on Honorio's behalf,
I'le make submission.

Con.
Base Slave!

Bug.
And beg a pardon for the injuries
He did him: oh delicate, dainty lyes!
How you tickle, and delate my Genius!
There is no Paradise, but in Romance.

Con.
What a strange Fellow's this? yet to me
I fear his Story was too true, for see
Amante comes.

Enter Amante, Garbato.
Bug.
Now for a dainty fancy to make Fools—

Aman.
We are in time I see, here's only Buggio,
And without a Sword.

Gar.
Oh he's a Man of peace.

Bug.
He shou'd be a Conjurer by his Guess.

Con.
'Tis time I shew my self.

Bug.
Noble Gallants, Signior Honorio—

Con.
Honorio! If any here have ought
To say against him, I appear his Champion,
And in the just defence of his true Honour
Oppose my Innocence to your rude Swords.

Bug.
She has spoyl'd the rarest Fable brain e're
Gave being to—Cursed Woman—

[Exit.
Gar.
Is not this Constantia?

Aman.
The same.

Con.
Yes 'tis the same, the same Constantia;
I wou'd you were the same Amante too!
But wherefore shou'd I wish you so much ill?
No, prosper in your Love, and set in me
A period to your hate.

Aman.
How much I prize your life, the Gods bear witness.

Con.
How little you esteem my love, this heart
Can witness; yet tell me, false, and cruel,
How many new vexations you design me?
Y'ave rob'd my heart of Love, my life of peace,
And now pursue my sole surviving comfort,
My Brothers life.

Aman.
Alas I pitty your misfortunes Madam,
And own my self unworthy of your Love,
Vil'd and inconstant;
But for your Brother as he made the strife,
'Tis justice he shou'd answer't with his life.

Con.
His life! can nothing else obtain his peace?

Aman.
Ballance my injuries, and be you Judg.
He has reproach'd me with a Cowards name,
And with much baseness urg'd me to the Field,
Himself not daring as a Gentleman to meet
Me here, or give me satisfaction.

Con.
Suspend your sentence till you understand
By what necessity he is detain'd,
I've lock'd him up, and am come here my self
To make you Friends, or else supply his Room,
If we must fight, come on,
[She draws her Sword.
Yet sure you'l gain
But small repute, to kill a Maid half slain
By Love before, whose valour will appear,
More in her tongue than hand, most in a Tear.

Aman.
My heart dissolves, I shall forget my wrongs.

Gar.
Friend, let me intercede, who can deny
A Lady pleading with a weeping Eye?
'Twas for her sake Honorio did forgive
Your change in Love, for her sake let him live.

Aman.
I am content, we're on an even score;
Besides it is as little as I can do
In satisfaction for my wrongs to you.

Con.
This is a relique of some kindness yet,
But once your love, and vowes did promise more,
I now must study to forget both them, and you,
Farewel for ever.

[Exit.
Aman.
She's passionate.

Gar.
Sh'as reason for't, her injuries wou'd vex
The strongest Patience of that Noble Sex.

[Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Honorio at a Window.
Hon.
Sister! Constantia, Sister! sure she's deaf,
Or some infectious Vapour makes her mad
To lock me up thus; Curse of her design!
My honour's wounded to Eternity,
But how the Devil she shou'd come to hear
Of our appointment is beyond my brains
Or reason to conceive. Hell take her care!
She kills my honour to preserve my life;
And who can say she han't destroy'd her own,
And made me fast to play at loose her self?
Unto its Center I will sift her heart,
Level a Prospect to her very soul,
But I will know her thoughts, her hidden thoughts,
I've made a passage through three locks already,
This is beyond my skill, or strength to force.
Enter Clara, as Infortunio.
'Tis almost Night, I'le call on yonder Boy.

Cla.
This certainly must be Honorio's House.

Hon.
Youth, kind Youth.

Cla.
'Tis he! Pray what's your pleasure?

Hon.
Good Youth step to the adjacent street
And fetch a Smith; my Family are gone,
To th'festival, and lock'd me in.

Cla.
'Twill be a kindness to my self,
For I have business with you.

Hon.
Prithee dear Boy dispatch, I long to hear it.

Cla.
I'le bring you straight your freedom.

[Exit.
[Honorio shuts the Window.

Scena Quinta.

Furfante, Cicco.
Cic.
Arabella not come home, and night!

Eur.
When is't other with him? the Sun
Is half an hour high Sir.

Cic.
Yes, yes, I think it be.

he peeps up towards the sky.
Fur.
He peakes into the Element
Like an Astrologer, that picks out
Good Stars for others, and unlucky ones
For himself.

Cic.
No, no, the Sun is not so high.

Fur.
You might swear it, cou'd you see the Candles.

Cic.
'Tis just a quarter high, or there about.

Fur.
You are more than three quarters blind.

Cic.
But that's Night in a manner.

Fur.
Blindness is alwayes Night in a manner,

Cic.
What's that you say Sirrah of good Manners?

Fur.
Not I Sir, I had never any to talk of.

Cic.
Nay, you're a sawcy Knave, did Arabella
Take any body with her?

Fur.
No Sir, she was loth to promote the Cook-maid,
And my Livery was sick of a Rupture.

Cic.
Did she say nothing?

Fur.
She were not a Woman then; she told me all
Her Wedding Intrigues, but her tongue went
So merrily, and my memory was such a Jade
We cou'd not keep pace.

Cic.
If she be gone about her marriage necessaries
She won't be long, come let's about her
Preparations here at home.

Fur.
We are like to have wonderful doings, and much
Sobriety; our Wine will come up in Physical
Viols, and we shall drink it out of Acorns.

Cic.
Are the provisions come?

Fur.
Yes Sir, Coleworts in abundance, Lettice, Anchovies,
And Mushroomes, the Feast will make a rare
Grand Salade.

Cic.
No flesh Varlet?

Fur.
A pair of Pidgeons, half a dozen of Larks, a
Monstrous Quaile, and as much Butchers meat
As a pair of Mice yoak'd to a Peascod can
Conveniently draw.

Cic.
You think y'are in England to clog your stomach
With Buttock Beef.

Fur.
Wou'd mine were a Porter, upon condition
It bore no worse a burther.

Cic.
Be content Rascal, thou shalt surfeit on
Macharoni, and Vermicelli.

Fur.
A Pox of your Minestras, give me Beef.

[Exeunt.

Scena Sexta.

Constantia.
Con.
Just like a Felon by his guilt pursu'd
I've trac'd the Streets; for every little noise
Begets new terrors, and my erring fancy
Frames out of nothing, objects to affright me.
But soft, I hear some footing.

Enter Clara.
Cla.
'Tis very late, for ev'ry one's a Bed
Except some Lovers, who do serenade
Their Mistresses, no Smith can I prevail with;
They tell me that 'tis time to rest, but I
Can meet with no such season.

Con.
This Youth is as timorous, as I.

Cla.
That voice shou'd be Constantias.

Con.
He nam'd me, I am lost.

Cla.
Madam Constantia.

Con.
Protect me sacred Innocence! I know you not,
What are you?

Cla.
A Friend, and yet unknown.

Con.
I do not covet new acquaintances.

Cla.
Fear not, I was desired by Honorio,
(Lock'd up through some mistake of his Domesticks)
'To fetch a Smith.

Con.
I hope you have sent none, I have the Keyes.

Cla.
I han't, for furfeited with this days Feast.
They went, I think, all drunk to bed, sooner
At least than usually.

Con.
I shall perform their Office.

Cla.
Nay I must attend you.

Con.
Excuse your self the trouble, and my modesty
The Guilt of being seen with you so late.

Cla.
I am too young for such a jealousie.
Besides I have a message to your Brother.

Con.
Defer it till the Morning; now 'tis late.

Cla.
It does require a more quick dispatch.

Con.
I cannot shift him off, what shall I do?
'Twere madness to return, to stay here worse
I'le then rely upon my Virtues force.

[Exeunt.