University of Virginia Library

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Enter Balthazar and Dorando.
Balt.
Those scatter'd streaks of paleness in the East,
Declare the day so near, the Sun scarce needs
To travel half an hour to perfect it,
The Port will open strait, and there you'll find
My Page attend you with a Horse.

Dor.
Your tenderness, and careful Gratitude,
Will by example benefit the World,
And teach ill Natures to do good; if not
For Vertues sake, yet in a hope to gain
By the reward; let me request you (Sir)
To cherish nicely your dear life, which may
Be useful unto all mankind: Your wound
Will yet require the Surgeons help, and such
Untimely moving in the piercing air (perhaps)
Retard the Cure, I pray return.

Balt.
'Tis your civility to mind it (Sir)
Else I should lack the means to think I have
That wound which I can hardly feel,
Since y'are a stranger, and by a request
(Through a becoming care of safety) make
Such haste to leave the Town, perhaps your wants
May find this little treasure of some use,
Be pleas'd to make it yours.

Dor.
I shall have need
Of nothing but your absence (Sir) and that
Is useful to me, 'cause it may concern
Your health; pray leave me, and return.

Balt.
Let me attend you but a little further,
Perchance I have a Mistress, whose dwelling near
The Port, I would (in my obedience to
The custom here) salute with Musick when
She wakes.

Dor.
Nor yet am I
So old, but you may think I have
A Mistress too, whom I would celebrate;
And these affairs ask single secrecy.
I do beseech you leave me.

Balt.
My better wishes wait upon you ever.

Dor.
Mine Sir on you. Although your vertue be
So strong, it doth prevent all other aids.

Exeunt severally.
Enter Leonte.
Leon.
'Twas by some secret whisperings of love
Enjoy'd before: If Don Dorando really
Had been a stranger to my sister, and
As new to her, as me, he had not grown
So bold in her defence; if it be love,
'Tis apt enough to my conjecture. He
May take the usual way of early sacrifice
In amorous airs.
Just here, her Window doth
O'er-look our Garden Wall; I'll wait
For his approach, if singly (as such stoln
Addresses commonly are made) he will
Be fitter for my Sword; nor would I by
Unequal force, discharge, and satisfie
My Anger, to my Honors loss.

Enter Musicians.
1. Mus.
This is the place.
Diego, is the Base-Viol mended which
Th'young Lacky batter'd with a Torch?

2. Mus.
Tigh'd as a Bladder.

1. Mus.
Stand all close Beneath
The Penthouse; there's a certain Chambermaid
From yond Casement, will dash us else. She was
Ever very free of her Urine—

Leon.
Sure Don Dorando sprung this tame Covy!
Friend! who employ'd you here?

1. Mus.
A Gentleman Lover, Sir.

Leon.
I guess it is no City lover;
For he'd have eas'd his mind with the Town Waits.
Know you his name.

1. Mus.
Good Sir forbear: You hinder our tuning—

Leon.
Prethee his name.

1. Mus.
It is a stranger Sir, he will be here
After the first Madrigal.

Leon.
Song in Parts.

Enter Orgemon.
Orge.
There's your reward, avoid the place. 'Tis strange
Exeunt Musicians.
She not returns me her accustomed favor;
Neither by th'sudden comfort of her eyes,
Nor one restrain'd soft whisper, to declare
Her fears.
Claramante! Break forth
Thou living Light, the Planet of the day
Makes constant haste to shine on ev'ry one,
Because insensible, and cannot know
The value of his Beams; but thou
(Of worthier Essence far then he) art nice
And chary of thy lustre, 'cause
Thy reason tells thee, what is precious should
Be most reserv'd. Claramante!

Leon.
If there be vertue in that name, it is
Not fit it should receive a blemish from
Thy voice: If there be none, thou newly
Hast corrupted what I thought was pure.

Orge.
What are you that so rudely dare prophane
A Lovers rites? Those single privacies,
The custom of this Province doth allow.

Leon.
Don Dorando, 'tis not thy want of memory,
Doth make my person or my voice estrang'd
Unto thy knowledge, but thy guilt. Time hath
But added a few hours to our account,
Since thou with insolence didst injure, whom
Thou now dost fear to know.

Orge.
This scarcity of light, wanting enough
Of day t'inform thy eyes, makes thee mistake
I am not he thou nam'st.

Leon.
Dost thou deny thy self?
That which before did seem thy valor, was
No more then a disease, within thy blood;
'Thath intermissions, and doth reign by fits.

Orge.
Prethee (who e'er thou art) befriend thy self
With my advice, for thine own safety, not
For mine, I wish thee leave this place.

Leon.
Your easie temper will deceive you Sir;
Although I scorn to conquer him that is
Not willing to resist, I'll force you strait,
If not to courage, yet to anger. Thus—

Strikes him.
Orge.
Rash busie Fool, 'tis now too late t'allay
They draw, They fight.
That Spirit thou hast rais'd.

Enter Claramante above, with a light.
Clar.
Who are you that with rudely manag'd Swords,
Foretel so much of danger and of death?

Orge.
Thy valor did deserve a better cause,
But 'tis not timely to instruct thee now:
Yield or thou diest.

Orgemon bestrides Leonte.
Clar.
Ay me, the voice of Orgemon,
My Brother too, disarm'd, prostrate, and grown
The yielded subject of his rage.

Orge.
Ha! thy Brother!
Life of my heart! Had we but had thine eyes
T'enlighten us, this dark misprision could
A Torch ready.
Not so betray me, to oppose one, whom
My better knowledge might embrace.

Clar.
If there be any mercy in thy love, give not
Thy anger leave to make a bloody use
Of victory?

Orge.
For all the avaricious World calls Wealth,
I would not shed the blood that is ally'd
To thine. Rise Sir, and thank your sister for
Your life, and sword.

Gives him his Sword.
Leon.
I shall disdain 'em both,
Unless my fortune make me fit
For better gratitude; which is, when I
Have conquer'd thine to give them back.

Runs at him, they fight again.
Clar.
Cruel, and rash! Dost thou pervert the use
Of my request. Help, help!

Orgemon is wounded.
Orge.
Claramante, thy pity which did save
Thy Brothers life, hath now endanger'd mine.

Clar.
Gonsalvo, help! My Cosin Argilo.

Goes from the Window, and calls within.
Leon.
He seems, by th'half discernings of this light,
To shrink with loss of blood. I fear I shall
Have cause to curse my first mistake. I'll haste
Unto the next Monastick-house to keep
Me from the rigor of the Laws.

Exit.
Orge.
Where art thou fled! Have I a wound, and not
An enemy, on whom I may reveng't.

Enter Claramante above.
Clar.
Art thou in danger noble Orgemon?
I fear to ask what's cruelty to know.

Orge.
My gentle Love, disquiet not thy heart
With kind suspitions, for my wound
Is neither deep nor hazardous.

Clar.
Thy safety reconciles me to my Stars Now they descend!
Give trust unto my Cosin Argilo,
Unless he should perswade thee hither; for
The malice of this house may ruine thee.

Orge.
Wilt thou depart, that art my better life.

Clar.
My honor and my pity, call me hence,
I dare no longer see thee, nor be seen.

Exit.
Enter Argilo, Gonsalvo, with a Torch.
Orge.
Keep back, I've yet another arm that may
Be prosperous for my defence.

Arg.
Don Orgemon! This is a noble Lord,
I know his love to Claramante full
Of loyalty; without suspition, Sir, you may
Receive from me the office of a friend.

Gons.
I'th' calm and sleepy season of
The night, Leonte stole abroad: I fear
He hath been guilty of this rash assault.

Arg.
It seems there's danger in his deed, for he
Is fled: Be confident we'll serve you Sir,
How do you find your strength?

Orge.
I onely feel my Fortune weak, if you
Are worthy, as your promise renders you,
Conduct me to the Lodging near the Bridge.

Gons.
I know it well; it is the Marblehouse.

Arg.
We'll both attend you thither.

Exeunt.
Enter Orco like a Fidler. Androlio aloof of.
Orco.
This is a tame Street-hound, of the right strain;
Now he hath found my footing, 'twill be hard
To shake him off: He'll follow by the scent,
Like an old Tyger.

Andr.
You have your early walks, Orco.
I know you by your Aggot eyes, and your
Cinnamon face: Whether I'faith? tell me!
You mean to firk it with your Fidlestick.

Orco.
If thou lov'st me go back, I've a design
For thy good; but I would fain trust to my
Own head. The day will open presently
And then my project is quite spoil'd.

Andr.
Yes, a Court project, which no Man gets by
But the Inventor; who is long in paying of
Himself, and at the last is soundly paid:
But I will stand to all unwholsome hazards,
And bear you company.

Orco.
You must excuse me
Androlio; by this hand, 'tis a devout design.

Andr.
Faith like enough; you go to fiddle gratis
At the wedding of some poor Orphan Maid.

Orco.
Prethee go back.

Andr.
Come, I begin to find you false. Doth not
Our late Indenture, bind us both to help
Each other for the common good of Women,
And so to make our own enjoyings sure.
Thou hast a secret Mistress, and I think
Dost hide her under ground, like a Rose
Imbalm'd within a Leaden Pot to keep it fresh.

Orco.
Or as our Seamen bury Beef; but if
Thou findst her out, thou'lt powder her.

Andr.
Thou art as valiant as a Machabee,
And shouldst be true, shall I trust thee alone?

Orco.
Androlio, if thou wilt leave me, I will tell thee all.

Andr.
As how? Proceed.

Orco.
There is a certain Wench—

Andr.
Good! A Wench! The very thing I want.
If thou lov'st me, let her have black eyes.
Pray on, a Wench!

Orco.
The Daughter of an Advocate.

Andr.
Good still! I love to procreate with the Law;
For I would have my issue thrive.

Orco.
This foresaid Wench, sighing in her Window,
Gave me the gentle leer as I pass'd by;
And I that had the blessed happiness
To be born for her undoing, return'd her
(You know my old guard of Love-fence) the half wink thus—

Andr.
That's my way too, I taught it you. But mark
Me Orco. You must not now prove negligent
In a good cause.

Orco.
Dost think I am so wicked;
She's newly blown, and I am going now
To make her ripe.

Andr.
Honest Rogue farewel.
Goes to the door and returns.
D'ye hear Orco? I needs must have this Wench;
Remember how our Covenants are drawn.

Orco.
Be confident, and leave me.

Andr.
Nay, thou art right. To morrow I'll procure for thee.
Goes to the door again, and returns.
Orco, thou dost not know what extraordinary use
I have for an Advocates Daughter.

Orco.
I'm sensible, I prethee go, my friends
Necessities I tender as mine own.
Exit Androlio.
I'l give him a false turn i'th' corner of
The next blind Lane, that I may safer move
In my design.
Goes off, and enter again at the other door.
I've lost him now!
The Rogue's as cunning as a travel'd Spie.
But I shall couzen him. This is the house,
Or I mistook my mark last night.
Sings a Mock-song, to a Ballad Tune.
Good morrow to the Honorable Dona Amiana,
And toth' Right Worshipful her little Dog.

Enter Amiana above, with a Paper with God in't.
Amia.
You are too loud! I know thee not; and I
Presume thou dost not know thou wak'st my enemies:
For in this house the jealous live, who are
Such cruel Judges of my thoughts and words,
That I grow weary of all hope, but what
Infers my death. Although thy Musick's harsh,
I'll pay thy courtesie: there's Gold, begone.

Throws him Money.
Orco.
Pretty Varlet! Now am I melting, soft
All over, as a quodled Apple, I'll thred
These Duckets on a Fiddle-string, and wear
Them for a Bracelet.

Amia.
What shall I do?
Although my Father hazard me at home,
It may be danger to adventure forth.
Musician, are you gone?

Orco.
Here, dear Lady.
So conquer'd by your bounty, that I'm e'en
Setting my Fiddle to the tune of Dying dumps,
If you would grace me with commands, you shall
Perceive I dare attempt as far as Orpheus did,
That plaid a Jiggin Hell; there I have nick'd her
With a complement.

Amia.
Govern your words,
And then beware your promises exceed
Not what you can perform, yet I have heard
Course habits often cover mighty minds.
Know you Don Androlio, the Nephew to
The Governor?

Orco.
Do I know a Ducket when I see't?
I am to play before
His worship this very morning; he makes
My love Ballads. The merry Madrigal.
For Maids, and the Vicious Virgin, were both his.

Amia.
I know him vain, wild, and ungovern'd as
Th'assembling winds; yet if thou'lt safely bring
Me to his house, I'll make thee rich with my
Rewards; but be thou sure, thou use me not
With rude, uncivil violence; for then
His anger, and my kinreds pow'r will seek
Thee out, as far as day is known, to ruine thee
With their revenge.

Orco.
'Lass, Madam, I am call'd
The faithful Fidler of Cordua. Boldly
Adventure, for my life shall warrant you.

Amia.
There is no staying here, to my infirm
And troubled sence, it doth appear as safe
To hazard what is doubtful there, as undergo
What certainly is worse then death within.

Exit.
Orco.
She's coming down I hope, Don Androlio.
When you did bring Don Orgemon, and me
Last night to see your Mistress in this house;
Your Brains (I take't) did you no great good service.
If I bring her to yours (although I've made
A kind of Poetical promise to
That small purpose) may this become my lasting trade,
And I sing my own story under the title
Of the lowsie Lover.

Enter Amiana vail'd.
Amia.
Good friend, where are you?

Orco.
Ready to serve you. Ha? Her face vail'd?
No matter, I shall see all in the Green-Chamber.

Amia.
First take that Jewel to invite your faith:
Which if perform'd with Loyalty,
It shall receive a larger recompence;
But still remember, what a punishment
Attends on treacherous Deeds: And as
You honor Heaven, make haste, before
The business of the people fill the streets.

Orco.
I shall consider as I walk, whether
I gain'd her with my face, or voice; for both
Are excellent.

Exeunt.
Enter Orgemon, and one Servant.
Orge.
That Key opens my Cabinet; Reward
The Surgeon well: Although my wound (I hope)
Will need no more his Med'cine, nor his care.
Be still within my call.

1 Serv.
I shall Sir.

Exit.
Orge.
O love!
Thy wonders might create a story that
Would fill all Books: 'Tis strange a pow'r so soft,
And ever young, should be so tyrannous,
And strong! 'Tis in obedience to thy will
That Don Leonte lives; and adds this morn
To's short account of time. And 'tis the same
Obedience keeps my Honor in such aw,
That he must still survive the date of my
Revenge.

Enter 1 Servant.
1 Serv.
A Gentleman importunate
With haste, and business, desires to speak with you.

Orge.
Admit him in.

Exit 1 Servant.
Enter Claramante, in mans habit.
Clar.
Sir, I perceive
You gaze and seek for something in my face,
That you would seem to know: And sure, if I
Had courage to display, what I must bashfully
Decline and hide; you'ld soon restore it to
Your memory, and then give me a name.

Orge.
Claramante! My wonder to behold
Thee thus, and here, will scarce give place unto
My joy! How rarely fashion'd is thy courtesie?

Clar.
I knew no way (most Loyal Orgemon!)
That would so much become my gratitude
As thus, t'obliege you with the trust, both of
My honor and my life; whose life and honor, I
Of late, with my unequal pity did
Betray: But I have hope my urgent pray'r
Hath kept all danger from your wound.

Orge.
It is
Too apt for cure, too slight to merit such
A recompence; you give, my Gentle Mistress,
So much new ornament to our course sex,
By serving of it now; that I suspect
Ere long, you will neglect your own.

Clar.
I do so fear my own disguise, that
I tremble in the light far more
Then other Virgins in the dark, as if
The Law did follow me for stealing of
My borrow'd shape. I shrink like th'Indian flowr
Which creeps within its folded Leaves when it
Is touch'd, asham'd that men should come so near't.

Orge.
'Tis a disguise, thy need of safety will allow.

Clar.
You shall conceal me from my Brothers wrath,
Until the Priest by holy Rites hath made
Us fitting to appear in publick view.

Orge.
This house will soon be subject to his eyes,
And to your kinreds search, but ere their rage
Or watchful malice, can have time to find
You out, I will convey you hence unto
Some place more secret and remote.

Enter Androlio.
Andr.
What, lock'd up like a Relick Sir? Ere long
A man must bow three paces off to him
That shews your picture. My dear Don! how go
Affairs? This is a mad Town, the very race
Of mankind in't, are all turn'd Cats: Such climbing
Into Windows, clambering over house-tiles,
And scratching for Females was near heard of
Since first the hot Moor's did overcome Spain,
And met with our Grand-mothers in the dark.

Orge.
Was this last night? And things of moment done?
By whom I pray?

Androl.
Odds skirmishes have pass'd,
But who were actors in't, I cannot hear.

Orge.
No person cheif in the disorder nam'd?

Andr.
I tell you no, they bear their follies out
With gravity; a kind of slie State-sinners Sir,
And we are Village-Fools: For though we find
Great mischeifs still are done, we never know
By whom. What Gentleman is this?

Orge.
One I'll prefer to your acceptance Sir,
My Cosin, and an Heir.

Andr.
Will he be bound!

Orge.
'Las! he is but in's teens.

Andr.
What does he then abroad? Let him keep home,
Till the Wax be ready, and the Bonds drawn.

Orge.
Androlio lend me your ear: You are
Arriv'd hither most opportunely for my use.

Andr.
It may be so, 'tis more though, then I meant.

Orge.
That I confess; yet prethee be but sad
A while, or serious (which thou wilt) and take
A Secret from me, that concerns me much.

Andr.
Quick then! For I've a Secret business too:
Just when the Clock strikes nine, I am to meet
An Advocates Daughter.

Orge.
That may be done
Without impediment, to what I shall
Impose. This Gentleman with strictest care
Must be conceal'd within your house to night;
His honor suffers much, if he be found.

Andr.
Is he to fight? I'll be his second.

Orge.
There's something of a Duel in't, and though
His years promise no miracles of strength,
Yet he hath Seeds of Courage, and will yield
To nothing that he thinks an injury.

Andr.
You know my way, we'll fight it two to two,
That Norman Fencer which I kept, is dead.
Oh! he was a rare murderer; but I
Have all his rules.

Orge.
No words to him (Androlio)
That may intimate a quarrel, as you love me.

Andr.
Enough: when I suspect my Tongue, I'll take
It out, and lock it in my Cabinet.
Goes to Claramante.
Sir, I do seldom make requests, but since
Ally'd unto my Friend, I shall desire
I may have leave to serve you.

Clar.
Your favor Sir, hath made a most unworthy choice;
But I shall daily hasten to deserv't.

Andr.
A pretty bashful fellow. I'll enter him
Upon the mad Girls—Give me thy hand.
For thy sake (Orgemon) he shall begin
With the Advocates Daughter.

Claramante takes Orgemon aside.
Clar.
Have pity (Sir) upon my fears. I hope
You will not trust me in his house,
He seems so wild, and wickedly inclin'd,
I dare not hope for safety where he dwels.

Orge.
Poor troubled heart, dismiss those needless fears,
Your safety is assur'd in your disguise.
The time is short you are to stay with him,
And then his character (so known unto
Your friends) will hinder all suspition of
Your being there; besides although his wantonness
Lessens his worth, unto a strangers eye,
I know his valor will not suffer him
To fail my trust.

Andr.
Lead the way.

Clar.
My Fortune is as wearisome
And doubtful to me, as this borrow'd shape.

Orge.
Yet know my beauteous friend, he that
Foretels his own calamity, and makes
Events before they come, 'twice over, doth
Endure the pains of evil destiny.
But we must trust to Vertue, not to Fate
That may protect, whom cruel Stars will hate.

Exeunt.