 | 'Tis Pitty Shee's a Whore |  |
Actus Secundus.
Enter Giouanni and Annabella, as from their Chamber.Gio.
Come Annabella, no more Sister now,
But Loue; a name more Gracious, doe not blush,
(Beauties sweete wonder) but be proud, to know
That yeelding thou hast conquer'd, and inflam'd
A heart whose tribute is thy brothers life.
Anna.
And mine is his, oh how these stolne contents
Would print a modest Crymson on my cheekes,
Had any but my hearts delight preuail'd.
Gio.
I maruaile why the chaster of your sex
Should thinke this pretty toye call'd Maiden-head,
So strange a losse, when being lost, 'tis nothing,
And you are still the same.
Anna.
'Tis well for you,
Now you can talke.
Gio.
Musicke aswell consists
In th'eare, as in the playing.
Anna.
Oh y'are wanton,
Tell on't, y'are best, doe.
Gio.
Thou wilt chide me then,
Kisse me, so; thus hung Ioue on Læda's necke,
And suck't diuine Ambrosia from her lips:
I enuy not the mightiest man aliue,
But hold my selfe in being King of thee,
More great, then were I King of all the world:
But I shall lose you Sweet-heart.
Anna.
But you shall not.
Gio.
You must be married Mistres.
Anna.
Yes, to whom?
Gio.
Some one must haue you.
Anna.
You must.
Gio.
Nay some other.
Anna.
Now prithee do not speake so, without iesting
You'le make me weepe in earnest.
Gio.
What you will not.
But tell me sweete, can'st thou be dar'd to sweare
That thou wilt liue to mee, and to no other?
Anna.
By both our loues I dare, for didst thou know
My Giouanni, how all suiters seeme
To my eyes hatefull, thou wouldst crust mee then.
Enough, I take thy word; Sweet we must part,
Remember what thou vow'st, keepe well my heart.
Anna.
Will you begon?
Gio.
I must.
Anna.
When to returne?
Gio.
Soone.
Anna.
Looke you doe.
Gio.
Farewell.
Exit.
Anna.
Goe where thou wilt, in mind I'le keepe thee here,
And where thou art, I know I shall be there
Guardian.
Enter Putana.
Put.
Child, how is't child? well, thanke Heauen, ha!
Anna.
O Guardian, what a Paradise of joy
Haue I past ouer!
Put.
Nay what a Paradise of ioy haue you past vnder?
why now I commend thee (Chardge) feare nothing, (sweeteheart)
what though hee be your Brother; your Brother's a
man I hope, and I say still, if a young Wench feele the fitt vpon
her, let her take any body, Father or Brother, all is one.
Anna.
I would not haue it knowne for all the world.
Put.
Nor I indeed, for the speech of the people; else 'twere nothing.
Florio
within—
Daughter Annabella.
Anna.
O mee! my Father,—here Sir,—reach my worke.
Flo.
within.
What are you doeing?
An.
So, let him come now,
Enter Florio, Richardetto, like a Doctor of Phisicke, and Philotis with a Lute in her hand.
Flo.
So hard at worke, that's well; you lose no time, looke,
I haue brought you company, here's one, a learned Doctor, lately
come from Padua, much skild in Physicke, and for that I see
you haue of late beene sickly, I entreated this reuerent man
to visit you some time.
Anna.
Y'are very welcome Sir.
Richard.
I thanke you Mistresse,
Loud Fame in large report hath spoke your praise,
Aswell for Vertue as perfection:
For which I haue beene bold to bring with mee
A Kins-woeman of mine, a maide, for song,
And musicke, one perhaps will giue content,
Anna.
They are parts I loue,
And shee for them most welcome.
Phi.
Thanke you Lady.
Flo.
Sirnow you know my house, pray make not strange,
And if you finde my Daughter neede your Art,
I'le be your pay-master.
Rich.
Sir, what I am shee shall command.
Flo.
You shall bind me to you,
Daughter, I must haue conference with you,
About some matters that concernes vs both.
Good Maister Doctor, please you but walke in,
Wee'le craue a little of your Cozens cunning:
I thinke my Girle hath not quite forgot
To touch an Instrument, she could haue don't,
Wee'le heare them both.
Rich.
I'le waite vpon you sir.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo in his study reading a Booke.
Loves measure is extreame, the comfort, paine:
The life vnrest, and the reward disdaine
What's here? look o're againe, 'tis so, so writes
This smooth licentious Poet in his rymes.
But Sanazar thou lyest, for had thy bosome
Felt such oppression as is laid on mine,
Thou wouldst haue kist the rod that made the smart.
To worke then happy Muse, and contradict
What Sanazer hath in his enuy writ.
Loves measure is the meane, sweet his annoyes,
His pleasures life, and his reward all ioyes.
Had Annabella liu'd when Sanazar
Did in his briefe Euconium celebrate
Venice that Queene of Citties, he had left
That Verse which gaind him such a sume of Gold,
And for one onely looke from Annabell
Had writ of her, and her diuiner cheekes,
O how my thoughts are—
Vasques
within—
Pray forbeare, in rules of Ciuility, let me giue
notice on't: I shall be tax't of my neglect of duty and seruice.
What rude intrusion interrupts my peace,
Can I be no where priuate?
Vas.
within.
Troth you wrong your modesty.
Soran.
What's the matter Vasques, who is't?
Enter Hippolita and Vasques.
Hip.
'Tis I:
Doe you know mee now? looke periurd man on her
Whom thou and thy distracted lust haue wrong'd,
Thy sensuall rage of blood hath made my youth
A scorne to men and Angels, and shall I
Be now a foyle to thy vnsated change?
Thou knowst (false wanton) when my modest fame
Stood free from staine, or scandall, all the charmes
Of Hell or forcery could not preuaile
Against the honour of my chaster bosome.
Thyne eyes did pleade in teares, thy tongue in oathes
Such and so many, that a heart of steele
Would haue beene wrought to pitty, as was mine:
And shall the Conquest of my lawfull bed,
My husbands death vrg'd on by his disgrace,
My losse of woeman-hood be ill rewarded
With hatred and contempt? No, know Soranzo,
I haue a spirit doth as much distast
The slauery of fearing thee, as thou
Dost loath the memory of what hath past.
Soran.
Nay deare Hippolita.
Hip.
Call me not deare,
Nor thinke with supple words to smooth the grosenesse
Of my abuses; 'tis not your new Mistresse,
Your goodly Madam Merchant shall triumph
On my derection; tell her thus from mee,
My byrth was Nobler, and by much more Free.
Soran.
You are too violent.
Hip.
You are too double
In your dissimulation, see'st thou this,
This habit, these blacke mourning weedes of Care,
'Tis thou art cause of this, and hast diuorc't
And made me Widdow in my widdow-hood.
Soran.
Will you yet heare?
Hip.
More of the periuries?
Thy soule is drown'd too deepely in those sinnes,
Thou need'st not add to th number.
Soran.
Then I'le leaue you,
You are past all rules of sence.
Hip.
And thou of grace.
Vas.
Fy Mistresse, you are not neere the limits of reason, if
my Lord had a resolution as noble as Vertue it selfe, you take the
course to vnedge it all. Sir I beseech you doe not perplexe her,
griefes (alas) will haue a vent, I dare vndertake Madam Hippolita
will now freely heare you.
Soran.
Talke to a woman frantick, are these the fruits of your loue?
Hip.
They are the fruites of thy vntruth, false man,
Didst thou not sweare, whil'st yet my husband liu'd,
That thou wouldst wish no happinesse on earth
More then to call me wife? didst thou not vow
When hee should dye to marry mee? for which
The Deuill in my blood, and thy protests
Caus'd mee to Counsaile him to vndertake
A voyage to Ligorne, for that we heard,
His Brother there was dead, and left a Daughter
Young and vnfriended, who with much adoe
I wish't him to bring hither; hee did so,
And went; and as thou know'st dyed on the way.
Vnhappy man to buy his death so deare
With my aduice; yet thou for whom I did it,
Forget'st thy vowes, and leau'st me to my shame.
Soran.
Who could helpe this?
Hip.
Who? periur'd man thou couldst,
If thou hadst faith or loue.
Soran.
You are deceiu'd,
The vowes I made, (if you remember well)
Were wicked and vnlawfull, 'twere more sinne
To keepe them, then to breake them; as for mee
How much thou hast digrest from honest shame,
In bringing of a gentleman to death
Who was thy husband, such a one as hee,
So noble in his quality, condition,
Learning, behauiour, entertainment, loue,
As Parma could not shew a brauer man.
Vas,
You doe not well, this was not your promise.
Soran.
I care not, let her know her monstrous life,
Ere I'le be seruile to so blacke a sinne,
I'le be a Curse; woeman, come here no more,
Learne to repent and dye; for by my honour
I hate thee and thy lust; you haue beene too foule.
Vas.
This part has beene scuruily playd.
Hip.
How foolishly this beast contemnes his Fate,
And shuns the vse of that, which I more scorne
Then I once lou'd his loue; but let him goe,
My vengeance shall giue comfort to his woe.
She offers to goe away.
Vas.
Mistresse, Mistresse Madam Hippolita,
Pray a word or two.
Hip.
With mee Sir?
Vas.
With you if you please.
Hip.
What is't?
Vas.
I know you are infinitely mou'd now, and you thinke
you haue cause, some I confesse you haue, but sure not so much
as you imagine.
Hip.
Indeed.
Uas.
O you were miserably bitter, which you followed
euen to the last sillable: Faith you were somewhat too shrewd,
by my life you could not haue tooke my Lord in a worse time,
since I first knew him: to morrow you shall finde him a new
man.
Hip.
Well, I shall waite his leasure.
Vas.
Fie, this is not a hearty patience, it comes sowerly from
you, troth let me perswade you for once.
Hip.
I haue it and it shall be so; thanks opportunity
—perswade me to what?—
Vas.
Visitt him in some milder temper, O if you could but
master a little your femall spleen, how might you winne him!
Hip.
Hee wil neuer loue me: Vasques, thou hast bin a too trusty
seruant to such a master, & I beleeue thy reward in the end will fal
Vas.
So perhaps too.
Hip.
Resolue thy selfe it will; had I one so true, so truely honest,
so secret to my Counsels, as thou hast beene to him and
his, I should thinke it a flight acquittance, not onely to make
him Maister of all I haue, but euen of my selfe.
Vas.
O you are a noble Gentlewoman.
Hip.
Wu't thou feede alwayes vpon hopes? well, I know
thou art wise, and see'st the reward of an old seruant dally what
it is.
Vas.
Beggery and neglect.
Hip.
True, but Vasques, wer't thou mine, and wouldst bee
priuate to me and my designes; I here protest my selfe, and all
what I can else call myne, should be at thy dispose.
Vas.
Worke you that way old moule? then I haue the wind
of you—I were not worthy of it, by any desert that could
lye—within my compasse; if I could—
Hip.
What then?
Vas.
I should then hope to liue in these my old yeares with
rest and security.
Hip.
Giue me thy hand, now promise but thy silence,
And helpe to bring to passe a plot I haue;
And here in sight of Heauen, (that being done)
I make thee Lord of mee and mine estate.
Vas.
Come you are merry,
This is such a happinesse that I can
Neither thinke or beleeue.
Hip.
Promise thy secresie, and 'tis confirm'd.
Vas.
Then here I call our good Genii foe-witnesses, whatsoeuer
your designes are, or against whomsoever, I will not onely
be a speciall actor therein, but neuer disclose it till it be effected.
Hip.
I take thy word, and with that, thee for mine:
Come then, let's more conferre of this anon.
On this delicious bane my thoughts shall banquet,
Reuenge shall sweeten what my griefes haue tasted.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richar.
Thou see'st (my louely Neece) these strange mishaps,
How all my fortunes turne to my disgrace,
Wherein I am but as a looker on,
Phi.
But Vnkle, wherein can this borrowed shape
Giue you content?
Richard.
I'le tell thee gentle Neece,
Thy wanton Aunt in her lasciuious riotts
Liues now secure, thinkes I am surely dead
In my late Iourney to Lïgorne for you;
(As I haue caus'd it to be rumord out)
Now would I see with what an impudence
Shee giues scope to her loose adultery,
And how the Common voyce allowes hereof:
Thus farre I haue preuail'd.
Phi.
Alas, I feare
You meane some strange reuenge.
Richard.
O be not troubled,
Your ignorance shall pleade for you in all,
But to our businesse, what, you learnt for certaine
How Signior Florio meanes to giue his Daughter
In marriage to Soranzo?
Phi.
Yes for certaine.
Richard.
But how finde you young Annabella's loue,
Inclind to him?
Phi.
For ought I could perceiue,
Shee neyther fancies him or any else.
Richard.
There's Mystery in that which time must shew,
Shee vs'd you kindly.
Phi.
Yes.
Richard.
And crau'd your company?
Phi.
Often.
Richard.
'Tis well, it goes as I could wish,
I am the Doctor now, and as for you,
None knowes you; if all faile not we shall thriue.
But who comes here?
Enter Grimaldi.
I know him, 'tis Grimaldi,
A Roman and a souldier, neere allyed
Vnto the Duke of Montferrano, one
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
That now resides in Parma, by which meanes
He hopes to get the loue of Annabella,
Saue you Sir.
Richard.
And you Sir.
Gri.
I haue heard
Of your approu'd skill, which through the City
Is freely talkt of, and would craue your ayd.
Richard.
For what Sir?
Gri.
Marry sir for this—
But I would speake in Priuate.
Richard.
Leaue vs Cozen.
Exit Phi.
Gri.
I loue faire Annabella, and would know
Whether in Arts there may not be receipts
To moue affection.
Richard.
Sir perhaps there may,
But these will nothing profit you.
Gri.
Not mee?
Richard.
Vnlesse I be mistooke, you are a man
Greatly in fauour with the Cardinall.
Gri.
What of that?
Richard.
In duty to his Grace,
I will be bold to tell you, if you seeke
To marry Florio's daughter, you must first
Remoue a barre twixt you and her.
Gri.
Whose that?
Richard.
Soranzo is the man that hath her heart,
And while hee liues, be sure you cannot speed.
Gri.
Soranzo, what mine Enemy, is't hee?
Richard.
Is hee your Enemy?
Gri.
The man I hate,
Worse then Confusion;
I'le tell him streight.
Richard.
Nay, then take mine aduice,
(Euen for his Graces sake the Cardinall)
I'le finde a time when hee and shee doe meete,
Of which I'le giue you notice, and to be sure
Hee shall not scape you, I'le prouide a poyson
To dip your Rapiers poynt in, if hee had
As many heads as Hidra had, he dyes.
Gri.
But shall I trust thee Doctor?
As your selfe,
Doubt not in ought; thus shall the Fates decree,
By me Soranzo falls, that min'd mee.
Exeunt.
Enter Donado, Bergetto and Poggio.
Do.
Well Sir, I must bee content to be both your Secretary
and your Messenger my selfe; I cannot tell what this Letter may
worke, but as sure as I am aliue, if thou come once to talke with
her, I feare thou wu't marre whatsoeuer I make.
Ber.
You make Vnkle? why am not I bigge enough to carry
mine owne Letter I pray?
Do.
I, I carry a fooles head o'thy owne; why thou Dunce,
wouldst thou write a letter, and carry it thy selfe?
Ber.
Yes that I wudd, and reade it to her with my owne
mouth, for you must thinke, if shee will not beleeue me my selfe
when she heares me speake; she will not beleeue anothers handwriting.
O you thinke I am a blocke-head Vnkle, no sir, Poggio
knowes I haue indited a letter my selfe, so I haue.
Pog.
Yes truely sir, I haue it in my pocket.
Do.
A sweete one no doubt, pray let's see't.
Ber.
I cannot reade my owne hand very well Poggio,
Reade it Poggio.
Do.
Begin.
Poggio reades.
Pog.
Most
dainty and honey-sweete Mistresse, I could call
you faire, and lie as fast as any that loues you, but
my Unkle being the elder man, I leaue it to him, as more fit for
his age, and the colour of his beard; I am wise enough to tell you
I can board where I see occasion, or if you like my Vnkles wit better
then mine, you shall marry mee; if you like mine better then
his, I will marry you in spight of your teeth; So commending my
best parts to you, I rest.
Yours vpwards and downewards, or you may chose, Bergetto.
Ber.
Ah ha, here's stuffe Vnkle.
Do.
Here's stuffe indeed to shame vs all,
Pray whose aduice did you take in this learned Letter?
Pog.
None vpon on my word, but mine owne.
And mine Vnkle, beleeue it, no bodies else; 'twas mine
owne brayne, I thanke a good wit for't.
Do.
Get you home sir, and looke you keepe within doores
till I returne.
Ber.
How? that were a iest indeede; I scorne it yfaith.
Do.
What you doe not?
Ber.
Iudge me, but I doe now.
Pog.
Indeede sir 'tis very vnhealthy.
Do.
Well sir, if I heare any of your apish running to motions,
and fopperies till I come backe, you were as good no; looke
too't.
Ber.
Poggio, shall's steale to see this Horse with the head in's tayle?
Pog.
I but you must take heede of whipping.
Ber.
Dost take me for a Child Poggio,
Come honest Poggio.
Exeunt.
Enter Fryar and Giouanni.
Fry.
Peace, thou hast told a tale, whose euery word
Threatens eternall slaughter to the soule:
I'me sorry I haue heard it; would mine eares
Had beene one minute deafe, before the houre
That thou cam'st to mee: O young man cast-away,
By the relligious number of mine order,
I day and night haue wak't my aged eyes,
Aboue thy strength, to weepe on thy behalfe:
But Heauen is angry, and be thou resolu'd,
Thou art a man remark't to tast a mischiefe,
Looke for't; though it come late, it will come sure.
Gio.
Father, in this you are vncharitable;
What I haue done, I'le proue both fit and good.
It is a principall (which you haue taught
When I was yet your Scholler) that the Fame
And Composition of the Minde doth follow
The Frame and Composition of Body:
So where the Bodies furniture is Beauty,
The Mindes must needs be Vertue: which allowed,
Vertue it selfe is Reason but refin'd,
And Loue the Quintesence of that, this proues
Is rarely Uertuous; chiefely in her loue,
And chiefely in that Loue, her loue to me.
If hers to me, then so is mine to her;
Since in like Causes are effects alike.
Fry.
O ignorance in knowledge, long agoe,
How often haue I warn'd thee this before?
Indeede if we were sure there were no Deity,
Nor Heauen nor Hell, then to be lead alone,
By Natures light (as were Philosophers
Of elder times) might instance some defence.
But 'tis not so; then Madman, thou wilt finde,
That Nature is in Heauens positions blind.
Gio.
Your age o're rules you, had you youth like mine,
You'd make her loue your heauen, and her diuine.
Fry.
Nay then I see th'art too farre sold to hell,
It lies not in the Compasse of my prayers
To call thee backe; yet let me Counsell thee:
Perswade thy sister to some marriage.
Gio.
Marriage? why that's to dambe her; that's to proue
Her greedy of variety of lust.
Fry.
O fearefull! if thou wilt not giue me leaue
To shriue her; lest shee should dye vn-absolu'd.
Gio.
At your best leasure Father, then shee'le tell you,
How dearely shee doth prize my Matchlesse loue,
Then you will know what pitty 'twere we two
Should haue beene sundred from each others armes.
View well her face, and in that little round,
You may obserue a world of variety;
For Colour, lips, for sweet perfumes, her breath;
For Iewels, eyes; for threds of purest gold,
Hayre; for delicious choyce of Flowers, cheekes;
Wonder in euery portion of that Throne:
Heare her but speake, and you will sweare the Sphæres
Make Musicke to the Cittizens in Heauen:
But Father, what is else for pleasure fram'd,
Least I offend your eares shall goe vn-nam'd.
The more I heare, I pitty thee the more,
That one so excellent should giue those parts
All to a second Death; what I can doe
Is but to pray; and yet I could aduise thee,
Wouldst thou be rul'd.
Gio.
In what?
Fry.
Why leaue her yet,
The Throne of Mercy is aboue your trespasse,
Yet time is left you both—
Gio.
To embrace each other,
Else let all time be strucke quite out of number;
Shee is like mee, and I like her resolu'd.
Fry.
No more, I'le visit her; this grieues me most,
Things being thus, a paire of soules are lost.
Exeūt.
Enter Florio, Donado, Annabella, Putana.
Flo.
Where's Giouanni?
Anna.
Newly walk't abroad,
And (as I heard him say) gon to the Fryar
His reuerent Tutor.
Flo.
That's a blessed man,
A man made vp of holinesse, I hope
Hee'le teach him how to gaine another world.
Do.
Faire Gentlewoman, here's a letter sent
To you from my young Cozen, I dare sweare
He loues you in his soule, would you could heare
Sometimes, what I see dayly, sighes and teares,
As if his breast were prison to his heart.
Flo.
Receiue it Annabella.
Anna.
Alas good man.
Do.
What's that she said?
Pu.
And please you sir, she sayd, alas good man, truely I doe
Commend him to her euery night before her first sleepe, because
I would haue her dreame of him, and shee harkens to that most
relligiously.
Do.
Say'st so, godamercy Putana there's something for thee,
and prythee doe what thou canst on his behalfe; sha'not
Pu.
Thanke you most heartily sir, now I haue a Feeling of
your mind, let mee alone to worke.
Anna.
Guardian!
Pu.
Did you call?
Anna.
Keepe this letter,
Do.
Signior Florio, in any case bid her reade it instantly.
Flo.
Keepe it for what? pray reade it mee here right.
Anna.
I shall sir,
She reades.
Do.
How d'ee finde her inclin'd Signior?
Flo.
Troth sir I know not how; not all so well
As I could wish.
Anna.
Sir I am bound to rest your Cozens debter,
The Iewell I'le returne, for if he loue,
I'le count that loue a Iewell.
Do.
Marke you that?
Nay keepe them both sweete Maide.
Anna.
You must excuse mee,
Indeed I will not keepe it.
Flo.
Where's the Ring,
That which your Mother in her will bequeath'd,
And charg'd you on her blessing not to giue't
To any but your Husband? send backe that.
Anna.
I haue it not,
Flo.
Ha I haue it not, where is't?
Anna.
My brother in the morning tooke it fró me,
Said he would weare't to Day.
Flo.
Well, what doe you say
To young Bergetto's loue? are you content
To match with him? speake.
Do.
There's the poynt indeed.
Anna.
What shal I doe, I must say something now.
Flo.
What say, why d'ee not speake?
Anna.
Sir with your leaue
Please you to giue me freedome.
Flo.
Yes you haue.
Anna.
Signior Donado, if your Nephew meane
The hope of mee will hinder such a hope;
Sir if you loue him, as I know you doe;
Find one more worthy of his choyce then mee,
In short, I'me sure, I sha'not be his wife.
Do.
Why here's plaine dealing, I commend thee for't,
And all the worst I wish thee, is heauen blesse thee,
Your Father yet and I will still be friends,
Shall we not Signior Florio?
Flo.
Yes, why not?
Looke here your Cozen comes.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Do.
Oh Coxcombe, what doth he make here?
Ber.
Where's my Vnkle sirs.
Do.
What's the newes now?
Ber.
Saue you Vnkle, saue you, you must not thinke I come
for nothing Maisters, and how and how is't? what you haue
read my letter, ah, there I—tickled you yfaith.
Pog.
But 'twere better you had tickled her in another place.
Ber.
Sirrah Sweet-heart, I'le tell thee good jest, and riddle
what 'tis.
Anna.
You say you'd tell mee.
Ber.
As I was walking iust now in the Streete, I mett a
swaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me, and because
hee did thrust me, I very valiantly cal'd him Rogue, hee
hereupon bad me drawe, I told him I had more wit then so, but
when hee saw that I would not, hee did so maule me with the
hilts of his Rapier, that my head sung whil'st my feete caper'd
in the kennell.
Do.
Was euer the like asse seene?
Anna.
And what did you all this while?
Ber.
Laugh at him for a gull, till I see the blood runne about
mine eares, and then I could not choose but finde in my
heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beard, (they say hee
is a new-come Doctor) cald mee into this house, and gaue me a
playster, looke you here 'tis; and sir there was a young wench
washt my face and hands most excellently, yfaith I shall loue
Pog.
Yes and kist him too.
Ber.
Why la now, you thinke I tell a lye Vnkle I warrant.
Do.
Would hee that beate thy blood out of thy head, had
beaten some wit into it; For I feare thou neuer wilt haue any.
Ber.
Oh Vnkle, but there was a wench, would haue done a
mans heart good to haue lookt on her, by this light shee had a
face mee-thinks worth twenty of you Mistresse Annabella.
Do,
Was euer such a foole borne?
Anna.
I am glad shee lik't you sir.
Ber.
Are you so, by my troth I thanke you forsooth.
Flo.
Sure 'twas the Doctors neece, that was last day with
vs here:
Ber.
'Twas shee, 'twas shee.
Do.
How doe you know that simplicity?
Ber.
Why doe's not hee say so? if I should haue sayd no, I
should hauo giuen him the lye Vnkle, and so haue deseru'd a dry
beating againe; I'le none of that.
Flo.
A very modest welbehau'd young Maide as I haue seene.
Do.
Is shee indeed?
Flo.
Indeed
Shee is, if I haue any Iudgement.
Do.
Well sir, now you are free, you need not care for sending
letters, now you are dismist, your Mistresse here will
none of you.
Ber.
No; why what care I for that, I can haue Wenches enough
in Parma for halfe a Crowne a peece, cannot I Poggio?
Pog.
I'le warrant you sir.
Do.
Signior Florio, I thanke you for your free recourse you
gaue for my admittance; and to you faire Maide that Iewell I
will giue you 'gainst your marriage, come will you goe sir?
Ber.
I marry will I Mistres, farwell Mistres, I'le come againe
to morrow—farwell Mistres.
Exit Do. Ber. & Pog.
Enter Gio.
Flo.
Sonne, where haue you beene? what alone, alone, still,
still? I would not haue it so, you must forsake this euer bookish
humour. Well, your Sister hath shooke the Foole off.
'Twas no match for her.
Flo.
'Twas not indeed I ment it nothing lesse,
Soranzo is the man I onely like;
Looke on him Annabella, come, 'tis supper-time,
And it growes late.
Exit Florio.
Gio.
Whose Iewell's that?
Anna.
Some Sweet-hearts.
Gio.
So I thinke.
Anna.
A lusty youth, Signior Donado gaue it me
To weare against my Marriage.
Gio.
But you shall not weare it, send it him backe againe.
Anna.
What, you are jealous?
Gio.
That you shall know anon, at better leasure:
Welcome sweete night, the Euening crownes the Day.
Exeunt.
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