University of Virginia Library

Act the Third.

The Scene a great Room in Don Manuels House.
Hippolito
Solus.
My Master bid me speak for him to Julia:
Hard fate that I am made a confident
Against my Self;—
Yet though unwillingly I took the Office,
I would perform it well: But how can I
Prove lucky to his Love, who to my own
Am so unfortunate! He trusts his passion
Like him that Ventures all his Stock at once
On an unlucky hand:

Enter Amideo.
Amid.
Where is the Lady Julia?

Hip.
What new Treason
Against my Masters Love have you contriv'd
With her?

Amid.
I shall not render you account.

Enter Julia.
Jul.
I sent for him; yet if he comes there's danger;
Yet if he does not, I for ever lose him.
What can I wish? and yet I wish him here!
Only to take the care of me from me.
Weary with sitting out a Losing hand,
'Twill be some ease to see another Play it.
Yesterday I refus'd to Marry him,
To day I run into his Arms unask'd;
Like a mild Prince inchroach'd upon by Rebels,
Love yielded much, till Honour ask'd for all.
[Sees Hippolito.
How now, where's Rodorick? (sees Amideo)
—I mean Gonsalvo?

Hip.
You would do well to meet him:—

Amid.
Meet him! you shall not do't: I'l throw my self
Like a young fawning Spaniel in your way
So often, you shall never move a step
But you shall tread on me.

Jul.
You need not beg me:
I would as soon meet a Serene, as see him.

Hip.
His sweetness for those Frowns no subject finds:
Seas are the Field of Combat for the Winds:
But when they sweep along some flowry Coast,
Their wings move Mildly, and their Rage is lost.

Jul.
'Tis that which makes me more unfortunate:
Because his sweetness must upbraid my hate.
The wounds of Fortune touch me not so near;
I can my Fate, but not his Virtue bear.
For my disdain with my esteem is rais'd;
He most is hated when he most is prais'd:
Such an esteem, as like a Storm appears,
Which rises but to Ship-wrack what it bears.

Hip.
Infection dwells upon my Kindness sure,
Since it destroys ev'n those whom it would cure.
[Cries, and Exit Hippolito.

Amid.
Still weep Hippolito; to me thy Tears
Are soveraign, as those drops the Balm-tree sweats.—
—But, Madam, are you sure your shall not love him!
I still fear.—

Jul.
Thy fear will never let thee be a Man.

Amid.
Indeed I think it won't.

Jul.
We are now
Alone; What news from Rodorick?

Amid.
Madam, he beggs you not to fear; He has
A way, which when you think all desperate
Will set you free.

Jul.
If not, I will not Live
A moment after it.

Amid.
Why! there's some comfort.

Jul.
I strongly wish, for what I faintly hope:
Like the Day-dreams of melancholy Men,
I think and think on things impossible,
Yet love to wander in that Golden maze.

Enter Don Manuel, Hippolito, and Company.
Amid.
Madam, your Brother's here.

Man.
Where is the Bridegroom?

Hip.
Not yet return'd, Sir, from his Ship.

Man.
Sister, all this good Company is met
To give you Joy.

Jul.
While I am compass'd round
With mirth, my Soul lies hid in shades of Grief,
Whence, like the Bird of Night, with half shut Eyes
She peeps, and sickens at the sight of Day.

[Aside.
Enter Servant.
Serv.
Sir, some Gentlemen and Ladies are without,
Who to do honour to this Wedding come
To present a Masque.

Man.
'Tis well; desire 'um
They would leave out the words, and fall to Dancing;
The Poetry of the Foot takes most of late:

Serv.
The Poet, Sir, will take that very ill,
He's at the Door, with th'Argument o'th' Masque
In Verse.

Man.
Which of the Wits is it that made it?

Serv.
None of the Wits, Sir; 'tis one of the Poets.

Man.
What subject has he chose.

Serv.
The Rape of Proserpine.

Enter Gonsalvo.
Man.
Welcome, welcome, you have been long expected.

Gons.
I staid to see th'Unlading of some Rarities
Which are within:—
Madam, your pardon that I was so long absent.

Jul.
You need not ask it for your absence, Sir.

Gons.
Still cruel, Julia:—

Jul.
The danger's here, and Rodorick not here:
I am not griev'd to Dye; but I am griev'd
To think him false.

[Aside.
Man.
Bid 'um begin.

The Musique Plays.
A Cupid descends in swift Motion, and Speaks these Verses.
Cup.
Thy Conquests, Proserpine, have stretch'd too far;
Amidst Heav'ns peace thy Beauty makes a War:
For when, last Night, I to Joves Pallace went,
(The brightest part of all the Firmament)
Instead of all those Gods, whose thick resort
Fill'd up the presence of the Thund'rer's Court;
There Jove and Juno all forsaken sate,
Pensive, like Kings in their declining State:
Yet (wanting Pow'r) they would preserve the show,
By hearing Pray'rs from some few Men below:
Mortals to Jove may their Devotions pay;
The Gods themselves to Proserpine do Pray.
To Sicily the Rival pow'rs resort;
'Tis Heav'n where ever Ceres keeps her Court.
Phœbus and Mercury are both at strife,
The Courtliest of our Gods who want a Wife:
But Venus, what ere Kindness she pretends,
Yet, (like all Females, envious of their Friends,)
Has, by my Aid, contriv'd a black design,
The God of Hell should Ravish Proserpine:
Beauties, beware; Venus will never bear
Another Venus shining in her Sphere.

After Cupids, Speech, Venus and Ceres descend in the slow Machines; Ceres drawn by Dragons, Venus by Swans.
After them Phœbus and Mercury descend in swift Motion. Then Cupid turns to Julia, and Speaks;
Cup.
The Rival Deities are come to woo
A Proserpine, who must be found below:
Would you (fair Nymph) become this happy hour,
In name a Goddess as you are in pow'r,
Then to this change the King of Shades will owe
A fairer Proserpine than Heav'n can show.

Julia, first whisper'd by Amideo, goes into the Dance, perform'd by Cupid, Phœbus, Mercury, Ceres, Venus, Julia.
Towards the end of the Dance, Rodorick in the Habit of Pluto, rises from below in a black Chariot all Flaming, and drawn by black Horses; he Ravishes Julia, who personated Proserpine, and as he is Carrying her away, his Vizard falls off: Hippolito first discovers him.
Hip.
A Rape, A Rape; 'tis Rodorick, 'tis Rodorick.

Rod.
Then I must have recourse to this:—

[Draws.
Jul.
Oh Heav'ns.

Don Manuel and Gonsalvo draw, and a Servant; the two that Acted Phœbus and Mercury return to assist Rodorick, and are beat back by Manuel and a Servant, while Gonsalvo attacques Rodorick.
Gons.
Unloose thy hold, foul Villain;

Rod.
No, I'l grasp her
Ev'n after Death.

Jul.
Spare him, or I'l Dye with him:

Gons.
Must Ravishes and Villains Live, while I
In Vain implore her Mercy?—

[Thrusts at him, and hurts Julia in the Arm.
Jul.
Oh, I am Murther'd!

Gons.
Wretched that I am
What have I done? To what strange Punishment
Will you condem this guilty Hand? and yet
My Eyes were guilty first: for they could look
On nothing else but you; and my Unlucky hand
Too closely follow'd them!—

Enter Manuel again.
Man.
The Pow'rs above are just that thou still Liv'st
For me to Kill.

Rod.
You'l find no easie task on't
Alone; come both together, I defie you:
Curse on this Disguise, that has betray'd me
Thus cheaply to my Death.—

Man.
Under a Devils shape thou could'st not be
Disguis'd.—

Jul.
Then must he Dye?
Yet I'l not bid my Rodorick farewell;
For they take leave, who mean to be long absent.

Gons.
Hold Sir; I have had Blood enough already,
And must not murder Julia again
In him she loves: Live, Sir, and thank this Lady.

Rod.
Take my Life, and spare my Thanks.

Man.
Though you
Forgive him, let me take my just Revenge.

Gons.
Leave that Distinction to our dull Divines;
That ill I suffer to be done, I do.

Hip.
My heart bleeds Tears for him; to see his Virtue
O'rcome so fatally against such Odds
Of Fortune and of Love!—

Man.
Permit his Death, and Julia will be yours:

Jul.
Permit it not, and Julia will thank you.

Gons.
Who ere could think that one kind word from Julia
Should be preferr'd to Julia her self!
Could any Man think it a greater good
To save a Rival, than possess a Mistress:
Yet this I do; these are thy riddles Love.
What Fortune gives me I my self Destroy;
And feed my Virtue, but to starve my Joy.
Honour sits on me like some heavy Armour,
And with its stiff Defence incumbers me.
And yet when I would put it off, it sticks
Like Hercules his Shirt; heats me at once,
And Poysons me!—

Man.
I find my self grow Calm by thy example;
My panting Heart heaves less and less each Pulse;
And all the boyling Spirits scatter from it.
Since thou desir'st he should not Dye, he shall not
Till I on Nobler terms can take his Life.

Rod.
The next turn my be Yours: Remember Julia,
I ow'd this Danger to your Wilfulness;
Once you might easily have been mine, and would not.
[Exit Rodorick.

Man.
Lead out my Sister, Friend, her hurt's so small
'Twill scarce disturb the Ceremony:
Ladies once more your pardons.

[Leads out the Company, Exeunt.
Manent Julia, Gonsalvo, Amideo: Gonsalvo offers his hand, Julia pulls back hers.
Jul.
This hand would rise in Blisters should'st thou touch it:
My Rodorick's displeas'd with me, and thou
Unlucky Man the cause; dare not so much
As once to follow me.—
[Exit Julia.

Gons.
Not follow her! alas she need not bid me!
O how could I presume to take that hand
To which mine prov'd so Fatal!
Nay, if I might, Should I not fear to touch it?
A Murd'rers touch would make it bleed afresh.

Amid.
I think, Sir, I could Kill her for your sake.

Gons.
Repent that word, or I shall hate thee strangely:
Harsh words from her, like blows from angry Kings,
Though they are meant Affronts, are construed Favours.

Hip.
Her Inclinations and Aversions
Are both alike unjust; and both, I hope,
Too violent to last, chear up your Self;
For if I Live (I hope I shall not long)
[Aside.
She shall be yours.

Amid.
'Twere much more Noble in him
To make a Conquest of himself than her.
She ne'r can merit him, and had'st not thou
A mean low Soul, thou would'st not name her to him.

Hip.
Poor child, who would'st be Wise above thy Years,
Why dost thou talk, like a Philosopher,
Of conquering Love, who art not yet Grown up
To try the force of any Manly passion?
The sweetness of thy Mothers milk is yet:
Within thy Veins, not sowr'd and turn'd by Love.

Gons.
Thou hast not Field enough in thy Young breast,
To entertain such Storms to struggle in.

Amid.
Young as I am, I know the pow'r of Love;
Its less Disquiets, and its greater Cares,
And all that's in it, but the Happiness.
Trust a Boys word, Sir, if you please, and take
My Innocence for Wisdome; Leave this Lady;
Cease to perswade you Self you are in Love,
And you will soon be freed: Not that I wish
A thing so noble as your Passion, lost
To all the Sex: bestow it on some other;
You'l find many as Fair, though none so Cruel.
Would I could be a Lady for your sake.

Hip.
If I could be a Woman with a wish,
You should not be without a Rival long.

Amid.
A Cedar of your Stature would not cause
Much Jealousie.

Hip.
More than a Shrub of yours.

Gons.
How eagerly these Boys fall out for nothing!
Tell me Hippolito, wert thou a Woman,
Who would'st thou be?

Hip.
I would be Julia, Sir,
Because you Love her.

Amid.
I would not be She,
Because she Loves not you.

Hip.
True, Amideo:
And therefore I would wish my self a Lady,
Who I am sure does Infinitely love him.

Amid.
I hope that Lady has a Name:—

Hip.
She has;
And she is call'd Honoria, Sister to
This Julia, and bred up at Barcellona.
Who loves him with a Flame so pure and noble,
That did she know his Love to Julia,
She would beg Julia to make him happy.

Gons.
This startles me!

Amid.
Oh Sir, believe him not;
They Love not truly, who on any terms
Can part with what they Love.

Gons.
I saw a Lady
At Barcellona, of what Name I know not,
Who next to Julia was the fairest Creature
My Eyes did ere behold: but how cam'st thou
To know her?

Hip.
Sir, some other time I'l tell you.

Amid.
It could not be Honoria whom you saw.
For, Sir, she has a Face so very Ugly,
That if she were a Saint for Holiness,
Yet no Man would seek Virtue there.

Hip.
This is the lying'st Boy, Sir; I am sure
He never saw Honoria; for her Face
'Tis not so bad to right any Man;
None of the Wits have Libell'd it.

Amid.
Don Rodoricks Sister, Angellina, does
So far exceed her in the Ornaments
Of Wit and Beauty, though now hid from sight,
That like the Sun (ev'n while Eclips'd) she casts
A Yellowness upon all other Faces.

Hip.
I'l not say much of her; but only this,
Don Manuel saw not with my Eyes, if e'r
He Lov'd that Flanders shape, that Lump of Earth
And Flegm together.

Amid.
You have often seen her.
It seems by your Description of her Person:
But I'l maintain on any Spanish ground,
What ere she be, yet she is far more worthy
To have my Lord her Servant, than Honoria.

Hip.
And I'l maintain Honoria's right against her
In any part of all the World.

Gons.
You go
Too far, to Quarrel on so slight a Ground.

Hip.
O pardon me, my Lord, it is not slight:
I must confess I am so much concern'd
I shall not beat it long.

Amid.
Nor I, assure you.

Gons.
I will believe what both of you have said,
That Honoria, and Angellina
Both equally are Fair.

Amid.
Why did you name
Honoria first?

Gons.
And since you take their parts so eagerly,
Henceforth I'l call you by those Ladies names:
You, my Hippolito, shall be Honoria;
And you, my Amidea, Angelina.

Amid.
Then all my Services, I wish, may make
You kind to Angellina, for my sake.

Hip.
Put all my Merits on Honoria's score,
And think no Maid could ever Love you more.

Exeunt.