 | The Imposture |  |
ACT. III.
Enter Antonio and Fioretta.Fior.
Is this Ferraras Court?
Anto.
Yes Madam.
Fior.
I will not yet discover, I shall find,
A time Antonio to reward thy faith
And service to me.
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Anto.
Here are Ladies Madam.
Dona.
I have a great desire to see this wonder,
The Princess Fioretta, so much fam'd
For beauty.
Flor.
Comes she with his Excellence?
Do.
Most certainly, so speaks the Prince Leonato's
My Brothers Letters, and that with some difficulty,
He gaind her from the Nunnerey.
Flor.
Who is this?
Don.
She has an excellent shape, some stranger;
Prethee Florelia ask.
Anto.
This Lady Madam,
Seems to make some address this way, I know not,
Upon what Jealousie my Lady left
aside.
Placentia so privatly, where she
Was entertain'd by Flavianos Mother,
Though old, a Lady of no decrepit brain.
Fior.
Antonio.
Flor.
A Lady, Madam, calls her self Lauriana,
Born in Placentia, but the Warrs affrighting,
Both Mantua and the confines, she came hither
With confidence of safety, till the storm
At home be over.
Dona.
It is not fit a person of your quality
And presence should be ingag'd to common persons,
And if I may entreat, you shall consent
To be my guest at Court, which will be proud
To entertain such beauty.
Fior.
It must be
Too great an honor Madam.
Don.
Leonato my Brother hath secur'd your peace at home,
Which cannot be less pleasing, if you tast
The freedom I can here provide and promise you,
We expect him every minute with the Princess
Fioretta, in whose love he holds more triumph
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And yet his fame was Earlier than this conquest,
For many noble Virtues, but has your grace
A confidence that he brings Fioretta with him?
Dona.
Since he left Mantua we received such letters.
Enter Petronio.
Pe.
Madam, the Prince is come to court, and with him
The gallant Lady wee expected.
Fior.
I am not well o'th' suddain.
Dona.
Virue defend!
Pe.
The good old Duke your Father, will
Shew comfort in his sick-bed to behold
A Son and Daughter.
Fior.
Are they married?
Petro.
No Madam, but I am confident
So great a joy will not be long deferr'd,
'Twere sin such hope should wither by delay,
They both wish to be happy in your presence,
And you at first sight of this Princely sister
Will much applaud your brothers fate.
Dona.
I hope so,
How is it Madam yet?
Fior.
I do beseech you
Let not your graces too much care of me
Detain you from the joy your brother brings.
Another Fioretta?
Enter Leonato.
Leo.
Donabella?
Dona.
I shall not fear a surfet in my joyes
To see you safe.
Fior.
A gallant Gentleman.
Leon.
What Ladie's that?
Dona.
A stranger, sir, with whom I have prevail'd
To grace our court a while, which will be Honor'd
In such a guest.
Leo.
And I should call it happiness
If you would please to dwell for ever with us,
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For both your beauties you will not repent.
Fior.
The Duke of Mantuas Daughter, I congratulate
Your double victory, and if I may,
Without imputed flattery speak my thoughts,
You did deserve her, had she to her birth,
All the additions that grace a Woman.
Leon.
You have conferr'd a bounty on me Madam,
And leave me hopeless to reward the debt
I ow this fair opinion.
Fior.
Sir, the venture
You made through blood, and danger, doth deserve it,
And she were impious, did not think her self
Much honor'd to be call'd your valors triumph.
I shall betray my self. Censure me not,
Immodest or suspectfull of her virtue,
Whom you have made the darling of your heart.
Enter Bertoldi.
Bert.
Sir the Duke calls for you.
Dona.
Signior Bertoldi.
Bert.
Your Graces creature.
Leon.
Will it please you Madam?
Fior.
I humbly pray your Highness to excuse me,
I may have time and happiness to attend you,
When with more health I may present my services,
I dare not see this Lady.
Leon.
Wait you upon that Lady Signior.
Bert.
With all my heart; incomparable Lady—
Fior.
I have servants to attend me.
Bert.
But not one,
More humble, or more active for your service,
You cannot choose but know my Lady Mother;
I have not seen her yet, but she shall stay,
I'l kneel to her when I have done with you.
Exit.
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Flor.
But is my Son so valiant, Signior?
This War hath wrought a miracle upon him.
Volt.
He was a coward beyond Ela, Madam,
I must acknowledg, to whom men in pitty
Of his Birth, and care of your much-loved honor
Often forgave his life, but see the turn,
He that went forth (for all our conjurings
And promise of no danger) as he had
Been marching towards Ætna, nay before
The instant fight would have given all the World
To have been assur'd when he came home, but one
Of every thing about him—
Flo.
What d'ee mean?
Volt.
One eye, one ear, one arm, and but one leg
To have hopt home withall, strange, how i'th' heat
O'th' Battle he grew double, and there fought
As he had two soules; oh! had you seen
When like a Magazine he march'd, with pikes
With guns & Corslets, which he took from th'Enemy,
With swords more than a Surgeons sign, stuck round,
And seeming like a porcupine to shoot
The Iron Quills.
Flo.
But is this possible?
Volt.
I never saw a Dragon do such things.
Flor.
This was not by instinct, but some example
He saw in you, that wak'd his sleeping spirit.
And he must owe all that is Valiant in him
To your brave soul, which like a burning Comet
Flew with prodigious terror to the Enemy.
Volt.
You do not Jeer your servant?
Flor.
And so he, by your great blaze
Saw his next way to honor;
Nor can I but acknowledge all my joyes
Now in my Son do flow from you; a souldier
Was ever high in my esteem, but you
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Favour me often with your visit.
Volt.
The Town's my own.
Flor.
No complement good Signior, your love
If plac'd on me, shall find an object, though,
Not equall to your favors, not ingratefull;
I wonder he absents himself so long.
Volt.
My care shall be to find him out and bring him
A welcom present to your eye. She's caught.
Exit
Flor.
These Soldiers think if they but once lay siege,
We must come in by force or composition.
Although a Maiden Town may not hold out,
A Widdow but well vittled with the bare
Munition of her tongue, will tire an Army;
I must suspect my Son, for all this legend,
No mighty man at armes; hee's here.
Enter Bertoldi, Hortensio.
Hort.
Your blessing.
Flor.
Take it, and with it all my prayers, thou maist
Grow up in honor, and deserve to be
Thy Fathers Son.
Bert.
Kiss her Hortensio, do, she is thine own.
Hort.
'Twas my ambition Madam
To wait upon my Convert, and to kiss
Your white hand.
Flor.
Signior Volterino was here but now, and has
Told me such stories, Son—
Bert.
Of me?
He had better eat my Spaniard, then mention me
With any scruple of dishonour.
Flor.
He extolls you for a Soldier, and tells me wonders.
Hort.
If you dare believe me Madam, your Son has
Behav'd him like a Gentleman.
Bert.
I confess,
I was—but that's no matter, thank this Cavalier;
can receive and give a gash, and look on't
When I ha' don without your cordial waters
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Flor.
Sir I am poor to recompence the honor
You have done my Son, I see he is your convert,
You that infus'd a soul in him cannot
Enough be glorified.
Hort.
Tis within your power
Madam to overpoise all my deserts.
True, I did stir those dormant seeds of nobleness
Your blood left in him, and made glow those sparks,
Into a flame, were hid in hills of Ashes;
Now he is yours, and if you Madam think
I have done any service by an Act
Or precept that could light your Son to honor,
You make me fortunate, and encourage
A Souldier to imploy his whole life here.
Flo.
How d'ee mean?
Ho.
Without more complement to love you, and—
Flo.
VVhat?
Ho.
VVish my self with you Madam when you dream
Flr.
You would be with me when I dream.
Hort.
But I should wake you.
Flor.
But I should be very angry to have my sleep broke.
Hort.
But I would please you agen,
And rock you into a traunce with so much harmony,
You shall wish to dye in't. I am very plain.
Flor.
Me thinks you are very rough.
Hort.
A Souldiers garb,
The old but the best fashion; a Sword,
And flattery were not meant for one mans wearing;
Madam I love you, but not doat upon you,
For you are something old.
Flor.
I am indeed sir.
Hort.
Yet you are very handsome, and I love you;
Y'are witty, fair, and honest, but a VVidow,
And yet I love you; I do know you are rich,
Exceeding mighty rich.
Flo.
And yet you love me.
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But Madam, I am a man.
Flor.
I do not mean to try you Signior,
Pray Son do you.
Hort.
Now put your vote in.
Bert.
What should I do Madam?
Flor.
Try whether he be a man or no.
Bert.
Should I?
Flor.
D'ee hear? they say you are grown valiant;
Upon my blessing I command you strike
This Gentleman, and do it presently.
Bert.
Strike him?
Flor.
Yes.
Bert.
A way, away, what here?
Flor.
Even here, this very minute.
Bert.
Not for your house, and all the monies in't,
Not for my Fathers Wardrob, and I were
An Adamite atop o'th' Alps, though you
Admire the reliques, and have turn'd your Gallery
Into a Chapel, where his severall suites
Hang up like Images for you to pray to:
Strike one taught me to fight?
Exit Flor.
Hort.
Is she gone? what said she?
Bert.
The foolish woman—
Hort.
Why what's the matter?
Bert.
Shee shews her breeding, but do not you despair.
Enter Florelia.
Flor.
If I mistake not sir, you would pretend
You love me honourably.
Hort.
May I perish else.
Flor.
When you can make't appear in visible wounds
Upon your head or body, that my Son
Dares fight—you and I'l be maryed.
Bert.
I told you Signior you should have my Mother.
Hort.
The Devill shall have you both upon easier conditions;
Visible wounds upon my head or body?
Flor.
And here's my hand upon the sight thereof,
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Hort.
But hark you Lady
Bert.
My Mother's a Witch. I shall ne'r be valiant
In this World, what quarrels I may have i'th' next,
I know not,
There are some dead threatned to cudgell me.
Hort.
Is there no hope, that I may catch you in
The Noose of Matrimony, unless your Son
First break my head?
Flor.
I wo'not swear.
Hort.
It is not your best course, take heed of vows.
Flor.
Why my dear Signior?
Hort.
For your souls sake, and yet
Dispose that as you please, I'l see who dare
Cary your body from me, spight o' Lucifer
I will ha' that, and come by't lawfully;
And so my service; think on't.
Flor.
A fine fellow.
Exeunt. Manet Bert.
Bert.
Would I had his audacity; my Mistris,
Yet knows not what I mean, but I will to her,
And kiss her Glove immediatly.
Exit.
Enter Honorio.
Hon.
This Court is like a twilight, where I cannot
Distinguish day, or perfect night, some faces
Are cheerfull as the morn, others agen
Are dark, and wrapt like evenings in a mist
Is is instinct for my approach, that brings
A resolution to revenge the rape
Upon my Sister; grow more strong my thoughts,
And let no fear distract you. Prince I have
Consider'd thee in all thy pride of merit,
Allow'd my Fathers Contract, and did give thee
My Sisters heart in thy own vote, but when,
She onely made a pause for ceremony,
Not disaffection, since thou could'st forget
Thy honour of a Prince, to invade her Chastity,
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To whip thy blood, or leave my own a sacrifice.
Enter Petronio.
Sir, may a stranger ask without offence, why
The Court like Janus doth present a double
Face, as it labour'd twixt the fierce extremes
Of triumph and despair.
Petro.
Sir you mistake not
The mixture of our passions, the Court
Smiles in our happiness to entertain
The Prince, and his fair Mistris, but doth wear,
A grief and paleness, for the Duke, whose want
Of health delayes their marriage.
Honor.
I apprehend;
Sir I am bold, May not a Gentleman
Engag'd to visit other Courts of Italy,
Make his ambition fortunate to receive
A favour from this Prince, and kiss his hand,
Before he leave the Dukedome?
Enter Leonato.
Petro.
He is here Sir.
Leon.
Lord Petronio, intreat the Princess
Fioretta, and my Sister meet me i'th' grove—
This Gentleman—
Hono. kisses his hand.
Hono.
You have made me happy;
Though I want honor to be known, your fame
Speaks you a valiant Prince, and fortunate,
And I must with the World congratulate
Your victory at Mantua, upon which,
So rich a triumph waites.
Leon.
What triumph sir?
Hon.
The Princess Fioretta.
Leon.
I acknowledge,
That Garland is my glory, such a treasure,
Was worth more service, than my sword could merit:
But I must be a debtor to my starres,
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Within their influence to come, so they
Confirm me Lord still of her beauties Empire.
Hono.
This doth becom your Excellence; what error
(Receive it not prophane) should Heaven and nature,
Have made, to have kept your hearts too long asunder?
And yet I may mistake, for though your Grace,
Affect her with all height your soul can fancie,
I know not how her love may answer this
Desert in you.
Leon.
How sir?
Hono.
Your Highness pardon;
I am no Prophet, nor do wish to see,
Upon your spring, another winde than what
The wings of pregnant Western gales do inrich
The air withall, which gliding as you walk,
May kiss the teeming flowers, and with soft breath
Open the Buds to welcom their preserver;
I wish you might grow up two even Cedars,
Till your top-boughs kiss Heaven that made you flourish,
When stooping to behold the numerous branches
That prosper in your growth, and what refreshing
The World below receives by your cool shade,
You wave your heads in the applause and wonder.
This is the Song I bring to your chast Hymen,
And thus would every good man pray, but that
They fear.
Leon.
Fear, what?
Hono.
The blessings they invoke
With all their importunity of prayers,
Will not descend.
Leon.
I cannot reach you sir
Without a perspective, but this wanders from
The doubt you made of Fiorettas love,
To answer mine, that talk was dangerous,
I must not hear't agen.
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You must, unless
You can be deaf, or cut the tongue of fame out.
Leon.
The man hath somwhere lost his senses go back
And find thy strangled wits, this language has
No chain of reason, I lose breath upon
A thing distracted.
Honor.
Tis not come to that,
I've no such hot vexation, but a soul
Possest with noble anger, and with pitty.
Prince, I must tell you there are dangerous symptoms
Of a State Apoplex; those aiery stilts
Of fame you walk on, will deceive your pride,
When every honest breath, angry at what
You did so late in the contempt of goodness,
Will tell the wind how it mistook your praise,
And in a sigh conclude her sad repentance.
I come not sir to flatter.
Leon.
It appears so.
Honor.
But tell you what hath eat into your soul
Of honor, and there poisond all the worth
The World once lov'd you for.
Leon.
You talk as if
You had consulted with my fate, and read
The leaves of my inevitable doom;
What action hath so much incens'd my late
Kind starres to this revolt, and threatneth like
To busie tongues in my disgrace?
Honor.
The noise is lowd already, would there were
No truth in men, who say, you ravish'd Fioretta
Sweet Princess from her Prayers, and left a Monument
Of such a sacrilege committed by you,
The very stones since groan in her behalf
You ravish'd from the Nunnery, on this
Must needs depend her hate,
Whose person and Religious vow you have
Unlike a Prince prophan'd.
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Y'are very bold,
What confidence can that outside raise in you
To be thus sawcie?
Hono.
Sawcie?
Leon.
Impudent.
Is life a burden, that you dare my anger?
What art?
Ho.
A gentleman, that have more right to honor
Than he that is a Prince, and dares degenerate.
Le.
There's somthing in thy face would have me think
Thou maist be worth my punishment, that I
Could uncreate thee, if thy veines do house
But Common blood, to make thee a fit Enemy
In Birth, and soul to me, that I might kill thee
Without a blush to honor, do not tempt
My Just rage, that provok'd will scorn a sword,
And make thee nothing with a look; be gone,
Get hence with the same speed, thou wouldst avoid
A falling Tower, or hadst new seen a Lioness
Walking upon some cliff, and gazing round
To find a prey, which she persues with eyes
That shoot contracted flame, but when her teeth
And pawes arrive, they quickly leave no part
Or sign of what there was.
Ho.
Iust heaven, how high he talks, and counterfeits
Your noise! I have a charm against your thunder;
If thou hast courage to stay, thou quickly shalt repent
Heavens Iustice in my arm sent to revenge
Thy sacrilege, the more to encourage thee
To fight, I am thy equall, and a Prince.
They Draw
Or may thy sin o'take my blood, and set
A weight upon my soul when thou hast kil'd me
Enter Donabella, Juliana.
Iuli.
Alas my Lord?
Don.
Dear Brother?
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Leon.
Away sweet Fioretta.
Honor.
Fioretta.
Iu.
Ha? I am undone, alas what do you mean?
My Brother, Prince Honorio.
Leon.
Thy brother?
Iuli.
Oh let me hold thee safe in my Embraces.
Don.
Leo. Honorio.
Hono.
The same, but not her brother.
Leon.
Pardon me,
Whose soul disdain'd in my belief thou wert
An insolent stranger, to acknowledge any thing
Of satisfaction, but let thy sister
Now speak for both.
Hono.
Give space to my amazement.
Iu.
If changing thus soft kisses, armes and heart
You interpret violence, Fioretta, then
Thy sister has been ravished; who hath thus
Abus'd your faith, and wrong'd this Princes Virtue?
Clear as the light of stars. I must confess
I seem'd to wave his courtship, when he first
Beheld me veild, which modesty instructed,
And though my heart were won, I kept it secret,
To make more proof of his, who not consenting
To be depriv'd too long of what he lov'd,
He brought a force to'th' Cloister: but took me
His own away without a rape, and since
All his adresses have been honorable.
Hono.
Instead of satisfaction, you inlarge
My wonder; what Impostures here? the Prince
Is cosend, yet she ownes me; pardon sir,
I was made believe, you did most impiously
Compell my sister, and by force injoy'd her,
But now I find we are all abus'd; to what
Misfortune might this error have engag'd us?
Leon.
This is my sister.
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You cannot want a charity
That are so fair.
Juli.
Would Leonato's Sword
Had prosper'd in his death; I must be confident;
You have not yet made glad my heart Honorio,
With our good Fathers health, I have some trembling
Within my blood, and fear all is not well.
Hono.
Gypsye?
Julia.
You look not cherefully.
Hono.
My Father injoyes a perfect health.
Juli.
That word hath blest me.
Sister and Leonato, you'l excuse,
If I transgress with joy to see my Brother;
Were but the Duke my Father here, I summ'd
All my delights on earth—
Honor.
She confounds me.
Juli.
Honorio and I will follow you.
Hono.
You are not my Sister?
Exit Leon. Dona.
Juli.
Sir, tis very true.
Hono.
Where is she?
Juli.
You shall know what will make you happy sir,
If you preserve this wisedom.
Hono.
I have seen you before.
Juli.
But I am destin'd here, to do such service
To your Family you shall know more—
Hono.
Give me breath for two minutes,
Be confident of my silence, they expect you.
Ex. Jul.
So let me have some air, am I Honorio.
Enter Fioretta, Bertoldi.
What prodigies are these? we are all bewitch'd,
Ha Sister,
Fior.
Brother Honorio.
Honor.
Tis she, what's he?
Fio.
Not worth the interruption of one kiss.
Ber.
My friend—
Hono.
My fool—Fioretta shew me where
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Exeunt, manet Bert.
Ber.
Sir I shall meet with you agen; a pretty fellow.
Exit.
| The Imposture | |