 | Two ways of dying for a husband. I. Dying to keep him, or Tortesa the usurer. II. Dying to lose him, or Bianca Visconti |  |
SCENE II.
[A Street. Enter Tomaso, with his hat crushed and pulled sulkily over his eyes, his clothes dirty on one side, and other marks of having slept in the street. Enter Zippa from the other side, meeting him.]ZIPPA.
Tomaso! Is't thou? Where's Angelo?
TOMASO.
It is I, and I don't know!
ZIPPA.
Did he come home last night?
TOMASO.
“Did he come home!” Look there!
(Pulls off his hat
and shows his dirty side.)
ZIPPA.
Then thou hast slept in the street!
TOMASO.
Ay!
ZIPPA.
And what has that to do with the coming home of Angelo?
TOMASO.
What had thy father to do with thy having such a nose as his?
What! gave thy mother a ducat?—cheap as dirt!
ZIPPA.
Blockhead, no! I'll give thee the ducat if thou wilt tell me, straight on, what thou know'st of Angelo!
TOMASO.
I will—and thou shalt see how charity is rewarded.
ZIPPA.
Begin!—begin!
TOMASO
Last night, having pray'd later than usual at vespers—
ZIPPA.
Ehem!
TOMASO.
I was coming home in a pious frame of mind—
ZIPPA.
—And a bottle in thy pocket.
TOMASO.
No!—in my hand. What should I stumble over—
ZIPPA.
—But a stone.
TOMASO.
A woman!
Fie! what's this you're going to tell me?
TOMASO.
She was dying with cold. Full of Christian charity—
ZIPPA.
—And new wine.
TOMASO.
Old wine, Zippa! The wine was old!
ZIPPA.
Well!
TOMASO.
I took her home.
ZIPPA.
Shame!—at thy years?
TOMASO.
And Angelo being out for the night—
ZIPPA.
There! there! you may skip the particulars.
TOMASO.
I say my own bed being in the garret—
ZIPPA.
Well, well!
TOMASO.
I put her into Angelo's.
Oh, unspeakable impudence! Didst thou do that?
TOMASO.
I had just left her to make a wine posset, (for she was well nigh dead), when in popped my master,—finds her there—asks no questions,—kicks me into the street, and locks the door! There's the reward of virtue!
ZIPPA.
Did he not turn out the woman, too?
TOMASO.
Not as I remember.
ZIPPA.
Oh worse and worse! And thou hast not seen him since?
TOMASO.
I found me a soft stone, said my prayers, and went to sleep.
ZIPPA.
And hast thou not seen him to day?
TOMASO.
Partly, I have!
ZIPPA.
Where? Tell me quickly!
TOMASO.
Give me the ducat.
(gives it him.)
Quick! say on!
TOMASO.
I have a loose recollection, that, lying on that stone,
Angelo called me by name. Looking up, I saw two
Angelos, and two Tortesas, and soldiers with two spears
each.
(He figures in the air with his finger as if trying
to remember.)
ZIPPA,
(aside.)
(Ha! he is apprehended for the murder of Isabella. Say that my evidence might save his life! Not unless he love me!) Which way went he, Tomaso?
(Tomaso points.)This way? (Then has he gone to be tried before the Duke.) Come with me, Tomaso! Come.
TOMASO.
Where?
ZIPPA.
To the Duke's palace! Come!
(Takes his arm.)
TOMASO.
To the Duke's palace? There'll be kicking of heels in the ante-chamber!—dry work! I'll spend thy ducat as we go along. Shall it be old wine, or new?
[Exeunt.
| Two ways of dying for a husband. I. Dying to keep him, or Tortesa the usurer. II. Dying to lose him, or Bianca Visconti | |