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Scæna Prima.
Enter Violante and Servant.Ser.
Madam hees come.
Chaire and stooles out.
Viol.
'Tis well how did he looke,
When he knew from whom you were sent? was he not startled?
Or confident? or fearefull?
Ser.
As appear'd
Like one that knew his fortune at the worst,
And car'd not what could follow.
Viol.
'Tis the better
Reach me a Chaire: So bring him in, be carefull
That none disturb us: I will try his temper,
And if I find him apt for my employments,
Enter Iamy, Servant.
I'll worke him to my ends, if not I shall
Find other Engines.
Ser.
Ther's my Ladie,
Viol.
Leave us
Iam.
You sent for me?
Viol.
I did, and do's the favour,
Your present state considered, and my power,
Deserve no greater Ceremonie?
Iam.
Ceremonie?
I use to pay that, where I doe owe dutie,
Not to my Brothers wife: I cannot fawne,
If you expect it from me, you are cozen'd,
And so farewell.
Viol.
He beares up still; I like it,
Pray you a word
Iam.
Yes; I will give you hearing
On equall termes, and sit by you as a friend
But not stand as a Sutour: Now your pleasure?
Viol.
You are very bold.
Iam.
'Tis fitt: since you are proud
I was not made to feed that foolish humour,
With flattery and observance
Viol.
Yet, with your favour,
A little forme ioyn'd with respect to her,
That can add to your wants, or free you from 'em
(Nay raise you to a fate, beyond your hopes)
A Table ready covered with Cloath Napkins Salt Trenchers and Bread.
Might well become your wisedome,
Iam.
It would rather
Write me a Foole, should I but onely think
That any good to me, could flow from you,
Whom for so many yeares: I have found and prov'd
My greatest Enemy: I am still the same
My wants have not transform'd me: I dare tell you,
To your new cerviz'd face, what I have spoken
Freely behind your back, what I thinke of you,
You are the proudest thing, and have the least,
Reason to be so, that I ever read of
In stature you are a Giantesse: and your Tailour
Takes measure of you, with a Iacobs staffe,
Or he can never reach you, this by the way
For your large size: Now, in a word, or two
To treat of your Complexion were decorum:
You are so far from faire, I doubt your Mother
Was too familliar with the Moore, that serv'd her,
Your Limbes and Features, I passe breifely over,
As things not worth description; and come roundly
To your soule, if you have any: for 'tis doubtfull
Viol.
I laugh at this, proceed
Iam.
This Soule, I speake of
Or rather salt to keepe this heape of flesh,
From being a walking stench, like a large Inne,
Stands open for the entertainment of
All impious practises: but ther's no Corner
An honest thought can take up: and as it were not
Sufficient in your self to comprehend
All wicked plots, you have taught the Foole, my Brother
By your contagion, almost to put off
The nature of the man, and turn'd him Devill
Because he should be like you, and I hope
Will march to hell together: I have spoken,
And if the limming you, in your true Colours
Can make the Painter gracious, I stand readie
For my reward, or if my words distaste you
I weigh it not, for though your Groomes were ready
To cut my throat for't, be assur'd I cannot
Use other Language
Viol.
You thinke you have said now,
Like a brave fellow: in this Womans War
You ever have bin train'd: spoke big: but suffer'd
Like a tame Asse; and when most spur'd and gall'd
Were never Master of the Spleene or Spirit,
That could raise up the anger of a man,
And force it into action,
Iam.
Yes vile Creature
Wer't thou a subject worthy of my Sword,
Or that thy death, this moment, could call home,
My banish'd hopes, thou now wer't dead: dead (woman)
But being as thou art, it is sufficient
I scorne thee, and contemne thee
Viol.
This shewes nobly:
46
For had you kneeld, and whind and shew'd a base
And low deiected mind, I had despis'd you
This Bravery (in your adverse fortune) conquers
And do's command me, and upon the sudaine
I feele a kind of pittie, growing in me,
For your misfortunes, pittie some sayes the Parent,
Of future love, and I repent my part,
So far in what you have suffered, that I could,
(But you are cold) doe something to repaire
What your base Brother (such Iami I thinke him)
Hath brought to ruine
Iam.
Ha?
Viol.
Be not amaz'd,
Our injuries are equall in his Bastard
You are familliar with what I grone for
And though the name of Husband holds a tye
Beyond a Brother, I, a poore weake Woman,
Am sensible, and tender of a wrong,
And to revenge it, would break through all letts,
That durst oppose me.
Iam.
Is it possible?
Viol.
By this kisse: start not: thus much, as a stranger
You may take from me; But, if you were pleas'd,
I should select you, as a bosome Friend,
I would print 'em, thus, and thus,
Iam.
Keepe off.
Viol.
Come neare,
Neere into the Cabinet of my Counsailes:
Simplicity and patience dwell with Fooles,
And let them beare those burthens, which wise men
Boldly shake off; Be mine and ioyne with me,
And when that I have rais'd you to a fortune,
(Doe not deny your selfe the happie meanes)
You'l looke on me, with more iudicious eies
And sweare I am most faire.
Iam.
What would this Woman?
The purpose of these words? speake not in ridles
And when I understand what you would counsell,
My answer shall be suddaine,
Viol.
Thus then Iami,
The objects of our fury, are the same,
For young Ascanio, whom you snake like hug'd
(Frozen with wants to death) in your warme bosome,
Lives to supplant you, in your certaine hopes,
And kills in me all comfort.
Iam.
Now 'tis plaine,
I apprehend you: and were he remov'd—
Viol.
You, once againe, were the undoubted heire.
Iam.
'Tis not to be denyed; I was ice before,
But now ye have fir'd me,—
Viol.
I'l add fuell to it.
And by a nearer cut, doe you but steere
As I direct you bring our Bark into
The Port of happines,
Iam.
How?
Viol.
By Henriques death:
But you'l say hee's your Brother; in great fortunes
(Which are epitomes of States & Kingdomes)
Dishes covered with papers in each ready.
The politicke brooke no Rivalls.
Iam.
Excellent.
For sure I thinke out of a scrupulous feare,
To feed in expectation, when I may
(Dispensing but a little with my conscience)
Come into full possession, would not argue
One that desir'd to thrive,
Viol.
Now you speake like
A man that knowes the World.
Jam.
I needs must learne
That have so good a Tutresse: And what thinke you,
(Don Henrique and Ascanio cut off)
That none may live, that shall desire to trace us
In our black pathes, if that Octavio
His foster Father and the sad Iacinta,
(Faith pittie her, and free her from her Sorrowes)
Should fall Companions with 'em? When we are red
With murther, let us often bath in blood,
The collour will be scarlet.
Viol.
And that's glorious,
And will protect the fact
Jam.
Suppose this don:
(If undiscovered) we may get for money,
(As that you know buyes any thing in Rome)
A dispensation
Viol.
And be married?
Jam.
True.
Or if it be knowne, trusse up our Gold and Jewells,
And fly to some free State, and there with scorne—
Viol.
Laugh at the lawes of Spaine.
'Twere admirable.
Iam.
We shall beget rare Children. I am rap'd with
The meere imagination—
Viol.
Shall it be don?
Iam.
Shall? tis too tedious: furnish me with meanes
To hire the instruments, and to your self,
Say it is done already: I will shew you,
'Ere the Sun set, how much you have wrought upon me,
Your province is onely to use some meanes,
To send my Brother, to the Grove that's neighbour,
To the west Port of th'Citie; leave the rest,
To my owne practise; I have talk'd too long:
But now will doe: this kisse, with my Confession,
To worke a fell revenge: A mans a foole,
If not instructed in a Womans Schoole.
Exeunt.
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