 | The Fatal Jealousie |  |
22
Act the Second.
Enter Jasper and the Witch.Jasp.
This kindness, Aunt, I beg, your Art must do;
For I have no way else to save my place.
Witch.
Why, 'tis impossible; I've no such Art
As People think, to call up Spirits to me;
Nor know I any thing, but what is told me.
Jasp.
Now you dissemble, Aunt, for han't you often
Rais'd Storms, have rent up Trees, and shook strong
Towers? Seeming to threaten Nature with it's end;
And at such times have sent strange shaped
Spirits, who have restored to owners stolen Goods.
These things so many know, it is impossible
For you to keep it private; but I find,
Rather then trust me with your mighty secrets,
Or help me with your Art, you'l see my Ruine.
Witch.
These things you speak of, people think I do,
And so I'de have e'm; for tis the only way I have to Live:
The Vulgar People love to be deluded;
And things the most unlikely they most dote on;
A strange Disease in Cattle, Hogs or Pigs,
Or any Accident in Cheese or Butter;
Though't be but Natural, or a Sluts fault,
Must strait be Witchcraft! Oh, the Witch was here!
The Ears or Tail is burn'd, the Churn is burn'd;
And this to hurt the Witch, when all the while
They're likest Witches that believe such Cures;
Could I do all that People think I can,
I'de ne're take pains to find out stolen Goods,
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Meetly to get my Bread; no, I would make
The Universe pay Tribute to my power,
And all the Bug-bear Lords Inquisitors
More tremble at my Name then I do now
At theirs: Ah, Jasper, would I raise
Storms when I would, blast Corn, turn Riv---vard,
Change shapes, mov'd where I pleas'd i'th' Air,
And that so fast, as thought it self would
Hardly overtake me:
What is't I could not do? if all were true
The Foolish People think, the Pope himself would
Quickly lose Respect,
And none be thought infallible but I.
Jasp.
I'm sure I tremble for your want of power,
More then I should to see Hells dreadfull'st shape,
For I must flye the Town.
Witch.
Jasper, not so; though I can raise no Devils,
Yet I Confederate with Rogues and Juglers,
Things that can shape themselves like Elves,
And Goblins—
And often do like Spirits haunt great Houses,
Most times to steal, but many times for mirth;
These I'le soon send for; arise, my Pincula.
Enter a little Devil, and tumbles the Summerset.
Jasp.
Heav'ns bless me! save me, good Aunt.
Witch.
From what? You Fool, 'tis but a little Boy,
Which I instruct to carry on my Cheats:
Come, leave your Fooling, I have bus'ness for you;
Uncase your self, and quickly go and find
Ranter, and Swash, Dive, Fob, Snap, Gilt, and Pick-lock,
Those are my Archest Devils; as you go
Call upon Dog'rell the Ballad-maker, and say
I want him strait, bid them be sure
To bring home half a dozen more with them,
For I shall need their help, let e'm not fail,
For money's to be got.
Devil.
'Tis that will make e'm come; I'le haste, forsooth.
[Exit.
24
I'm glad it's gone, for surely it was a Devil,
What ever you pretend.
Witch.
Thou'rt a Fool:
It was a Boy, I tell thee, and no Devil;
Nor am I a sorceress, though I could wish
To do thee good I was: But 'tis no matter,
Bring thou thy Lord, I'le practice well enough
To make him think all true, that I shall shew him.
Jasp.
You now Revive my Drooping Spirits, Aunt, and
Make my hopes grow strong! Ah sweet Revenge,
How my soul Dances but with thoughts of it;
Assist me, Aunt, to get this mighty Blessing, and I
Shall dye your slave.
Witch.
O rare Boy!
How I rejoyce to see this Spirit in thee,
For 'tis the vertue of our Family
To seek Revenge, not basely swallow wrongs:
Don Sancho De Monsalvo, thy Grandsire
Was for a while Vice-Admiral of Spain,
But then disgrac'd turn'd Pyrate and Reveng'd
With Fire and Sword on all Mankind, the wrongs
He thought the Court had basely plac'd on him;
At last he was betray'd and lost his head,
Thy Father turn'd Bandetto, what he got
I did dispose of for him; but his Fate
Betray'd him too to Death by Execution:
Since when I by these Arts do strive to live,
And thou art forc'd to serve—
That very Lord, who does those Lands
Possess should have been thine.
Jasp.
But will e're long mount to some higher sphere,
Or dye in the attempt; this Plot, perhaps, may do,
And I thereby obtain some part of my Estate
Again; for if the plotted mischiefs shall succeed,
I'le tell him whom I am, and my resolves, either
To share his Fortunes or Reveal all. Then I will
Rise Don Jasper De Monsalvo, and Cheek by Jole,
25
Witch.
Not one of them: I know them very well.
Jasp.
Farewell, Dear Aunt, but don't you seem to know me.
Witch.
Out you great Fool! What become my Instructer?
Be careful of yourself, and fear not me. Farewel, boy.
[Exeunt.
Enter Antonio, Gerardo, Cælia, Eugenia, as to a Masque, and take their seats.
Ger.
Have you heard, Madam, what they represent?
Cælia.
My Lord, I'm told they mean to play the Gipsies,
And tell our fortunes to us.
Anto.
I would they could.
Eugen.
If all Man's life determin'd is before,
I would not know my Destiny me-thinks,
For good is best, when least it is Expected;
And bad fore-seen is doubl'd by our fear
Things certain no fore-knowledge can prevent
Such knowledge only can bring discontent.
Ger.
In this with you I perfectly agree.
Anto.
Yet for all that I wish I could foresee.
Cælia.
My Lord, what profit by it wou'd you gain?
Anto.
'Twould cure doubt to me the deadliest pain.
Ger.
Doubt is th'effect of fear or Jealousie,
Two Passions which to Reason give the Lye
For fear torments, but never does assist,
And Jealousie is love lost in a Mist.
Both Hood-wink truth, then go to blind-mans buff,
Cry here, then there, seem to direct enought:
But all the while shift place making the mind
As it goes out of breath despair to find.
And if at last something it stumbles on,
Perhaps it calls it false and then 'tis gone.
If true, what's gain'd only just time to see
A breachless Play a Game at Liberty;
That has no other end then this, that men
Run to be tyr'd just to set down agen.
Anto.
This is a truth, and so for ought I know,
To the same purpose tends all things we do:
26
That Man is sick whom we see laugh and play;
And 'tis as well to bid the Bed-rid ride,
As to bid Men in doubt be satisfy'd:
For 'tis the mind's Disease, and Physick should
Be proper to't, or else the Patient's fool'd.
And there's no Drug in Nature doubt to Cure
But only one, and that is to be sure.
Cæl.
Yes, Circumstance, my Lord, if well apply'd.
Anto.
I've known that often fail, when it was try'd.
But they come—
[Flourish.
Enter first Gipsie, and sings.
1. Gipsie.
Come , come, away; follow, follow your Prince,
I am King of the swarthy Complexions;
Follow me that can lead you through Chimneys and Chinks
To steal Bacon and Pease,
Nay, sometimes with ease
To a Feast of the choycest Confections.
Come, follow me then, come away, come away.
Enter second Gipsie, and sings.
2. Gip.
We know no Rebellion, but obey, but obey,
To our King we are just,
And true to our trust,
Leaving discord to those, that their Princes oppose,
When by the Spirit of Treason in Non-sence they pray.
Enter all the rest, and sing.
Chor.
We know, &c.
1. Gip.
Come then, and follow, a prize, a prize, a prize.
2. Gip.
Give the word then, and holloa.
All.
A prize, a prize, a prize.
27
Here are Gallants and Ladies have Fortunes to tell.
2. Gip.
We'l tell e'm good Fortune if they give us a spell.
1. Gip.
A hand crost with silver the Spirit infuses.
2. Gip.
There's no Prophet lately that mettle refuses.
1. Gip.
Men get Heaven now by Bargain and Sale.
Chor.
Masses, Trentals, and Dirges
Are not had for no Charges,
And a Vicar for nothing won't tell you a Tale.
All.
Masses, &c.
1. Gip.
All things are bought and sold.
2. Gip.
Good Fortune goes with Gold.
1. Gip.
Fall on to your Trading then.
Men Gip.
W'are for the Ladies.
Wom. Gip.
And we for the Men.
1. Gip.
To Cæl.
Lady, you have lost a Lover,
Cross my hand, I'le more discover.
2. Gip.
To Anto.
My Lord, I know you baseness scorn,
And would be loath to wear a Horn.
1. Gip.
To Eug.
Lady, some do speak you fair,
That hatred to your welfare bear.
2. Gip.
To Ger.
My Lord, you Love a handsom Lady,
She Loves you as well it may be.
1. Gip.
sings.
Thus we seldom miss the matter,
Things past we can tell, by these Generals well,
And ne're stay to prove the truth of the latter.
All.
Things past, &c.
1.
To Cæl.
You shall Live long and happily, Lady.
2.
To Anto.
My Lord, I can tell you, good Fortunes your Friend.
1.
To Eug.
You shall e're long play with your own Baby.
2.
To Ger.
Your Love, my Lord, will have good end.
1. Gip.
sings.
Thus we Live merrily, merrily, merrily,
And thus to our Dancing we sing;
Our Lands and our Livings
Lye in others believings,
When to all Men we tell the same thing:
And thus to our Dancing we sing.
Thus we, &c.
[An Antique of Gipsies, and Exeunt.
28
By this we see that all the Worlds a Cheat,
Where truths and falshoods lye so intermixt,
And are so like each other, that 'tis hard
To find the difference; who would not think these People
A real pack of such as we call Gipsies.
Ger.
Things perfectly alike are but the same;
And these were Gipsies, if we did not know
How to consider them the contrary:
So in Terrestial things there is not one
But takes its Form and Nature from our fancy;
Not its own being, and is what we do think it.
Anto.
But truth is still it self.
Ger.
No, not at all, as truth appears to us;
For oftentimes
That is a truth to me that's false to you,
So 'twould not be if it was truly true.
Enter Pedro and a Servant, with a Letter to Antonio.
Serv.
My Lord, Don John salutes you in that Letter.
Cæl.
How does my Couzen, Friend?
Serv.
Madam, I fear he's drawing near his end.
Cæl.
'Pray Heav'n divert it.
Anto.
The Letter shews, that Death did guide his hand;
It only says, Oh Friend, come now or never.
Ger.
How did his Sickness take him?
Serv.
Chacing the Buck too hard; he hot with Labour,
Drunk of a cooling Spring too eagerly,
And that has given him pains, the Doctors say,
Will give him Death immediately.
Cæl.
Heav'n grant him help.
Anto.
Return, and tell thy Lord, I'm at thy heels.
Pedro, bring my Boots, and bid two Horses be made Ready.
Cæl.
Whom do you take, my Lord:
Anto.
Pedro:—but hold, Jasper is not discharg'd,
I'le ee'n take him.
Cæl.
Jasper, my Lord! Pray take not him.
Enter Ped. with Boots.
Anto.
Why not him, there are no Nurses there?
29
Ped.
He said he wou'd not dine, and went
Abroad, yet I suppose he may be now in's Chamber.
Anto.
Reach my Bootes, who has worn 'em lately?
I do believe you get into my Bootes.
Ped.
I, my Lord.
Anto.
I, you, my Rogue! Go, see for Jasper.
Strikes Pedro with a Boot top.
[Exit Pedro.
Cæl.
My Lord! Why do you thus disturb your self?
Anto.
You see the blow don't maim him, you need
Not be concern'd.
Cælia.
What means my Lord?
Anto.
As you hate Jasper, I hate whom I please.
Enter Jasper.
Cæl.
His sight strikes terror to me!
Anto.
Jasper, make ready, you must go with me.
[Exit Jasp.
Cæl.
Here on my knees I beg you would not take him:
But if you be resolv'd, let me go too.
Anto.
That cannot be: Don John's a Batchellor,
And is not fitted to have Women guests.
Cæl.
I will dispence with any thing, my Lord,
Then let me go, or do not take Jasper.
Anto.
Come, I must break this Childish way of yours,
Jasper shall go, and you shall stay at home,
And so Farewell; make merry with our Friends.
Ger.
Do not resolve, my Lord; see how she takes it.
Anto.
This passion soon will over; farewell, Friend,
I shall return to give Eugenia to you.
[Exit Anto.
Ger.
I ne're perceiv'd his will to reign before,
Some sudden fancy makes him Obstinate.
Eug.
So, give her Air, she comes to her self.
Cæl.
Where is my Lord! What gone! am I deluded?
I Saw an Angel lead him back again.
Ger.
Her fancy is disturb'd, make no answer:
Cæl.
Why Sister, where's my Lord?
Eug.
Do not disturb your self, my Brother's well.
Cæl.
Get me a horse, for I will follow him.
30
Anto.
Fetch me some water there.
Cæl.
My Dream was true, my Dearest Lord's return'd!
What makes you Bleed?
Anto.
As I was lifting up my Foot to the Stirrop, my Nose
Gusht out a Bleeding.
Eugen.
My Sister dreamt, an Angel led you back,
And I believe it now.
Ger.
Pray take some other with you, I, if you please
Will keep you Company.
Ant.
No, I'm resolv'd to stay, and send him word, I am
Took ill my self; my Nose leaves Bleeding.
Cæl.
I am satisfy'd, my Lord, you do not go, and therefore
Will Retire.
[Ex. all but Anto. and Gerar.
Anto.
Do so, my Dear.
Now I must tell my Friend, I dare not stay,
Twould look but ill to say a Bleeding Nose
Made Don Antonio slight his dying Friend.
Ger.
If that was all, it would; but yet reflect
There are more Prodigies forbid this Journey
Then Cæsar had t'avoyd the Senate-House.
Anto.
Had Cæsar not been slain, those Accidents
We now call Prodigies, had been forgot;
And so will these when I am safe return'd.
Ger.
Consider but your Ladies high concern,
Her suddain sounding, and recovery,
On which she cry'd an Angel brings him back,
Your Bleeding and Return speaks she dream't true,
The stopping of it too was not the least,
All these together force me to believe
That you from heav'n these warnings did receive.
Anto.
Surely, Gerardo, we must heav'n offend
To think that it these Accidents should send.
It is detraction to the Pow'rs above,
To think they suffer what they don't approve.
For if they did this to divert my ill,
They go about, for they might change my will.
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The threaten'd ill I meet, for ought I know;
For if their boads be certain, then I may
Meet th'effects whether I go of stay.
Ger.
Vainly we speak of heav'n, when vainly we
By human Wit set Rules to heav'ns decree,
The pow'r that made us gave us scope of will,
Freely to take the good, or choose the ill:
And though it can, it does not change that course,
Only perswades to Act what it could force.
Anto.
This you believe, but you must pardon me,
If in this point I don't with you agree;
For if to Man such a free-will be given,
That damns all Præscience and so baffles heav'n:
But I delay whilst Reason bids me go,
And Reason 'tis, since it to me is so,
Then pray divert my Wife, so farewell, Friend.
[Exit.
Ger.
Farewell: May all my fears to nothing tend;
Yet still I fear what should the Reason be,
That I shou'd fear, yet nothing fearful see,
I am resolv'd to send some Servants out
Shall wait him at a distance;
In doing all I can, I do the best,
I can no more, let heav'n do the rest.
[Exit.
Enter Don Francisco and Nurse.
Fran.
Well, 'tis so sweet a sin to Wench in danger,
That I am like to lose the best part of my Recreation;
But prethee Nurse, tell me, what causes this change?
Nurse.
Now if I would be hang'd, I cannot forbear telling.
Faith, my Lord, Gerardo's like to be the Man now,
Though I am for your Lordship still, you're my best Friend.
Fran.
By heav'n I'le be his Death, and hers to boot;
Can she slight me for him, he Whore our Kindred!
When did he first enjoy her?
Nurse.
Not so, my Lord, he's to Marry her.
Fran.
Nay, if't be so; then I'm Reveng'd already,
For's joyning with Antonio 'gainst our house,
32
O rare Revenge! There's for thy News, Nurse.
[Gives money to her.
Were all my Enemies but serv'd the same;
At a more full Revenge I'de never aim.
Nurse.
Me-thinks you should not be so merry for losing my
Lady; 'faith, had I known it, you should not have come
Into the place you wot'on, by my means.
Fran.
Nay, be not angry, Nurse, I find her drift,
She loves our family, and studies to Revenge it.
To make him Cuckold; how it pleases me!
Poyson, nor Poniards is not half so well,
Go, tell her; Nurse I'm glad she takes this way:
I glory in her love! by Heaven I do,
I'le find Sebastian out, and laugh with him,
Till I e'en split my sides.
Nurse.
Sir, you'le tell no body I hope.
Fran.
No, none but him:
To say as he goes by, there goes my Cuckold;
And then to laugh, go Nurse, and tell her
I'le be sure to meet—
[Exit.
Nurse.
Another double Pistoll for my Jasper!
I'le have him one whole night for this.
For to speak truth, I find the Rogue does not love me:
Heavens! What a bad world is this,
An Old Woman; though never so willing,
Can scarce get a friend for ready money:
When such as Eugenia can make the Gold fly about;
But time will come she must be fain to turn tail,
And pay for one as I do, or go without.
But it pleases me, my Lady says, he shall be my husband,
Then I shall need give money no longer: for faith if he
Be negligent, I'le ring him a Peal to quicken him to his duty.
Thus marry'd once, I'le doe like other wives
That make their husbands drudge for quiet lives.
The End of the Second Act.
| The Fatal Jealousie | |