 | The Novella |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Enter Pantoloni, Guadagni, Nicolo, with a Zaffies habit under his arme.Pan.
Is this Checquino's house, your Advocate?
Gua.
It is, and Prospero your learned Councell
Is with him here, attending too, our comming.
Pan.
Tis well, Give me my writings Nicolo,
Please you to enter: I'le dispatch my man,
Exit. Guad.
And follow instantly. Now Nicolo,
About the serious busines Nicolo,
In which this morning I instructed you.
Nic.
For your revenge sir.
Pan.
Right my Apprehension
On that discourteous, cursed Curtezan,
Twill breed me more delight, then all the dalliances
I could have found in her most free ambraces;
I hug my quick and sweet invention for it;
Here take this gold; this bright refulgent gold,
Twenty Checquines, and promise twenty more
On the performance of the brave exploy't
Nic.
Twill be sir, such a notable Revenge
That the report of it in after-ages
Will either mortifie concupiscence
In young lascivious Harlots; or, at least,
Fright out of 'em their itch of wronging age:
They shall no more dare to put youthfull tricks
On yeares, and gravity.
Pan.
Right my Nicolo.
Nic.
Sli'd sir, and if you should not be revengd,
An old man should not step in the Bordello
Without the taunts of Boyes and Gondeliers,
Crying take heed, old man, you be not serv'd
As the Movella fitted Pantaloni.
So, in short time, the City were well serv'd
When age shall be asham'd to crawle to lechery.
Pan.
Right, witty Knave. Go heartily about it,
Thinke what a Master tis thou dost it for,
That has no slender tie upon thy duty;
One that has bred thee from a youngling up
To this maturity.
Nic.
I must acknowledge it.
Pan.
And Nicolo, it was no petty kindnes
To manumize your Father from the Galley
Which you cannot forget.
Nic.
Yet must I heare it—?
Pan.
But i'le urge thee no further. Boy be carefull;
Worke but this for me with effect and speed,
And bind me as a Father to thy need.
Exit.
Nic.
You have even spoyl'd all now. I had as good a mind
And thought to ha' gone as heartily about
This peece of villany as the Devill, that
Is in my Master could devise, or wish
Till that ore-doing spirit put me out;
Could he not see 'twas well; and mischievous
Dos he thinke by redeeming of my Father
To slave me with his boasts, and foule upbraydings?
Had he still rowd i'th' gally, I not knowing,
The toyle, the smart and griefe had been his own:
Now I inherit what was then his paine,
Hearing continually the clash of's care,
And his fell stripes, out of this Bablers mouth,
Which more then kills my thanks; it wreaks my Spleen.
To brag of benefits one hath bestowne
Doth make the best seeme lesse, and most seem none:
So often times the greatest curtesie
Is by the doer made an injury.
Enter Fabritio.
Fab.
Nicolo well met. I saw you house my Father,
And waited for you. Come you shall draw neare.
This is a neare friends Lodging Gentlemen,
Piso, Francisco, Hora. at a Table, Wine, &c.
My fathers speciall man I told you of;
Pray bid him welcome.
Hor.
Most intirely,
Please you to sit sir: Here's a short potation.
Pi.
But good Lyatico I assure you sir
I'le be your taster to quit feare of danger,
Piso drinks.
And now i'le let you know we have made oath
Upon this nimble master of invention
This sprightly liquor to be firme, and faithfull
To one another in a present project.
Take you the same, and grow in one with us.
Nic.
May I not aske what end your project aimes at?
Fra.
Nor what, nor unto whose—
Pi.
Let it suffice,
We carry that about us shall end you,
They draw Stillettoes
And presently, if you comply not with us.
Nic.
Nay, nay, by faire meanes Gentlemen I pray.
I am apt enough to mischiefe of my selfe.
He drinks.
Hor.
Tis well. Now know
Tis for the good of your young Master here.
Nic.
Then you would use me in some treachery
Against my old one.
Pi.
Thou art a Soothsayer.
Nic.
Look you, i'le sweare againe, I like your oath,
Your deep Lyatick oath here, wondrous well.
He drinks thrice.
Fab.
Tis well done Nicolo: try the bottome of't—
Nic.
I will comply now and complot with you,
And was indifferently prepar'd before.
Provided alwayes that it tend not to
Danger of's Life.
Fab.
Couldst thinke me such a Villaine?
Nic.
Nay, if it were, 'twere no disparagement
To stake my head with yours. But Gentlemen,
Please yee fall roundly now upon the busines,
I have now sworne enough.
Pi.
Then you must answer
To these intergatories. First do you know
If the old men Guadagni and Pantaloni
Doe hold their purpose for their match to morrow
Betwixt Fabritio here, and Flavia?
Nic.
They are marying of 'em now at their Lawyers,
By Deed and Covenant, under Hand and Seale.
I left them, and their Bookes there now together,
And for the Priest to morrow is the day.
Hor.
Is not Fabritio mist at home this morning?
Nic.
No, not at all, the old man's mind's so carried
Upon the wings of this new marriage fortune—
I cry you mercy sir, you are the Gentleman
I thinke, that should have had her.
Fra.
In good time sir.
Nic.
In good time may you I'le do something for you.
Fab.
Honest, deserving Nic.
Sir thus it is:
My Master sent in my young Masters name,
(The more to indeare his service and his care
To the young Lady) that the Merchantesse,
The rich Shee-pedler of the Merceria
Should visit her to day with all her wares,
For her to take her choyce to deck her Brideship;
If you know how to plough now with that Heyfar
You may herhaps convey a message to her.
Hor.
I know her, and will fit you with directions.
Fra.
Thou hast given a hint, for which I will renown
thee.
Pi.
But Nicolo, where was your reverend Master
Attended by your selfe before day-light?
Fab.
Prithee inquire not further, 'twas not he.
Nic.
The doubtfull light deceav'd you sir.
Pi.
No more then Noon ifaith, a man may spie
An old whore-master in the darkest night
Like an old Cat, by th' gloring of his eyes.
Will his old Mutton-mongership nere leave?
He is already known sufficiently
Thorough the City for his gift that way;
And yet he will deny his sonne free choyce,
And force him marry one hee not affects.
Hor.
That is his drift, whereby he may inherit
From him the same licenciousnesse; and make
The World acknowledge him the more his Son.
Pi.
But has he made the purchace? has he bought
The famous peece of flesh, the rare Novella?
Nic.
I could unshale a plot.
Hor.
Nere doubt but doe't then,
Pi.
My noble Nicolo out with't I say.
Ni.
I would intreat the favour of this Senate
I might unfold it only unto one.
Fra.
Take your free choyce.
To you young Master then,
Take heede wee render not ridiculous
Your Father to the wildnesse of their youth:
But to your selfe I will disclose a secret
That may be wrought to your advantage.
Fab.
On.
Nic.
Tis true, my Master was with the Novella
Drawne by the loose desires of wanton flesh;
But such a foule affront he did receave
As justly doth provoke his dire revenge,
Which he hath trusted me to execute.
Fab.
How Nicolo? but first what was th'affront?
Nic.
He bargain'd with her; and for some large price
Shee yeilded to be his. But in the night
In the condition'd bed was laid a Moore;
A hideous and detested Blackamore,
Which he (demanding light to please his eye,
As old men use all motives)
Discoverd and inrag'd, forsooke the house;
Affrighted and asham'd to aske his coyne againe.
Fab.
But seekes Revenge! How, how, good Nicolo?
Nic.
Thus sir, you know what common disrepute
Falls upon Man or Woman that is found
Conversing with the common City-hangman,
That nearest Kinred after such converse,
Shun their society, as they would doe him
(The Hangmans selfe) so odious are they held
Except it be those officers allowd
By the State-publick to negotiate with him.
Fab.
I know it Nicolo. But what can follow?
Nic.
Tis plotted that the Hangman shall go to her,
And be discover'd with her in such sort,
As her disgrace shall force her fly the City,
And I have undertaken to effect it.
It must be then by bribing of the Hangman:
And how canst thou do that with thine own safety?
Thou mayst be so discoverd and so hated.
Nic.
For that observe the politique invention
Of my old Master! the habit of a Zaffi,
One of th'inferiour Ministers of Justice,
That walkes betweene the Senate, and their Friend
The Executioner of their commands.
Fab.
But what disguise shall shrowd the Hangman
thither, whose own shape is as horrid as the Plague?
Nic.
The habit of some stranger in the City,
Which here is gold to purchace.
Fab.
Thou hast inform'd,
Nay more thou hast inspir'd mee Nicolo!
I shall find way by this, to breake the contract
My Father would inforce; preserve his credit,
And save the poore Novella from the same
My father threatens by his own disgrace
Be then but true to me.
Nic.
Sir, if I faile—
Fab.
Enough: I'le trust thee. Keepe the gold thy self:
Give me this Habit. Get thy selfe another
In all points like it, and in that returne
Unto my Father, confidently tell him
The Hangman undertakes it, and at five,
Soone in the Evening, in strangers habit,
He will accost her.
Nic.
Sir—
Fab.
I'le see't perform'd,
Trust to my word and care, and thy reward.
Nic.
I leave all to you sir. And crave my dismission.
Pi.
What Has he done?
Fab.
Most friendly. Farewell Nicolo.
Exit. Nic.
He has given me plot enough, if I but worke it;
I must subscribe my Wit is not my Friend,
I must crave your assistance Gentlemen.
Hor.
We have beene plotting too.
Fra.
And though our project run not the same way,
It may conclude with yours to crown the day.
Pi.
So to your severall wayes.
Hor.
I am for the Novella.
Exeunt Omnes.
SCENE II.
Victoria above, looking in a Glasse, Jacomo, Paulo, by-named Burgio.Vic.
So I am ready: And trust me Jacconetta
My pretty Moore, (for so I still must call thee
For thy deare Masters sake that gave thee to me)
Thou art grown skilfull in these quaint attires,
So lately unacquainted with my wearing:
Thou hast plaid the good beginner at this dressing,
And by thine industy and further practise,
I doubt not but my Knowledge will grow ripe.
Pau.
And by that Knowledge, you your selfe soone
rotten.
O! could these Creatures grow still towards ripenesse;
Or, being ripe, abide so, and no further,
What excellent fruit they were!
Vic.
VVhat say you Borgio?
Pau.
I say among the twenty thousand Curtezans
In and about this City, none becomes
The dressing, or the habit like your selfe;
Your most unparalell'd selfe! But, noblest Lady,
Not it, your person.
Vic.
Why not it my person?
Pan.
Yes, as the flame the fuell;
To worke it into coales, and so to ashes.
Vic.
Still Borgio in your old morality!
Pan.
These Tires, these Chaines, these Paintings, and
these Gawds
To set out flesh to sale with; or, at best,
But the gay Garlands which adorne the Beast
Prepar'd for Sacrifice—
Vic.
Peace Borgio, peace.
Pan.
And as those Beasts, so senselesse are you women
Of the most certaine danger you put on,
With your vaine glorious gayety; chips and strawes,
To kindle fire of lust, in whose lew'd flame
Sinkes (with Troyes Buildings) Natures choycest
Flame.
Vic.
I would I understood this misery!
Deale freely with me Borgio, what new art
Hast thou in practise, that thou setst a face
Shiningly varnish'd with Divinity
On a profession, that makes Nature vile
In her own shame? Lust's instrument!
Nay case of instruments, holding all meanes
For propagation and maintaining of it;
To make thy Gaine out of its dregs and fragments.
Tell me, dost thinke by preaching modesty
To quit thee of the basenesse of thy trade;
A poore necessitous Bravo? or hast hope
To live upon my honesty, and yet be still
Thy selfe a Ruffiano?
Pan.
I would give o're, would you; and change my
Function.
Ha, ha, ha,—
Jac.
What meane you Borgio, would you now spoile
all?
And no lesse pleasant too, then profitable
(As most of my Bookes titles are) whereby
Shee was so well resolved to goe on—
Pan.
Hold thy peace foole: shee will runne on the
faster.
'Mongst women. She will prove the only Sweep-stake
In all the City.
Jac.
O are you there Devill?
Vic.
Sir, leave this grumbling, or i'le turne you off
Amongst your Brothers, and your Sons Ruffianos,
To lurch i'th' night betwixt eleaven and two
To rob and drown for prey; till being taken
Imediate Hanging followes.
Pan.
I'm now your Creature;
My noble resolute Mistris; now I adore you:
Now you shine bright; your bravery now becomes you,
Yet (let me tell you under faire correction)
I have some cause to hinder your desires,
And theyrs that seeke you more, yet, for a time.
Vic.
Your reason sir?
Pan.
You know I was preferrd to you for a Bravo
Of long and deare experience: I have serv'd
Six, the most famous Dames, this City bred
These sixty yeares; none scorning my advise,
By which, and their endeavours they grew up
To purse the price of Providences; which bestowd
The most in publique, some in pious uses
Purchac'd them fame, almost Canonization.
The last and least of them, Margarita Emiliana
Founded the Augustinian Monastry
These women, whom successively I serv'd,
Fell not by rash adventure unto all
Great Fortunes offers; but by sound advise
(Which kept their Bodies sound and 'rich'd their coffers)
Were long e're they embrac'd; by which their price
And beauty grew of greater estimation,
My profit in this too is unneglected:
For long suspense, and tedious Expectation
Bring me more certaine fees; where, if you fell
Imediatly to work, my work were done,
And your own too, perhaps too soon: witnes the falls
That Pox and Poverty have brought on many!
When their youths flame was spent and they rejected,
When others of their Sisterhood were embrac'd
Into a wholsome Nunnery.
Vic.
This fellow speakes my thoughts. Borgio, I thought
You had respect to your particular profit
In all this winding warinesse for my good.
Pan.
You may conceive, 'twould grieve me, that (where
now
That yeild me fees for the bare sight of you)
You should in yeilding to their common use
Send one man cloyd away, t'affright another
From his approach.
Vic.
Borgio, no more of this,
A deare friend put you to me, for whose sake
I hitherto have follow'd your advise,
In hoysting up the price of my virginity.
Jac.
To such a rate no common purse dares venture,
Nor common folkes presume t' approach the house.
Vic.
And such as did attempt, by offring lesse,
I have sent back with shame; as the old youth
Last night, for which I thanke thee Jacconetta,
I thinke I coold his grave concupiscence.
Vic.
And therefore, doubt not, carefull Borgio,
Unlesse I meet a husband by the way
I will not stoope this moneth at a lesse rate,
Then the proposed sum and your consent.
Pau.
I thanke you more then if you had possess'd
Me of the value of that sum propos'd.
Jac.
He meanes her Maydenhead! Ifaith good sir,
The mark's grown out of your old chaps, or else
Hang me if I believ'd you, by that little
I know of man.
Vic.
So now about our businesse.
Some of my visitants I know are neare,
Wayt circumspectly Borgio.
Pau.
You need not doubt me.
Exit.
Vic.
There is some hidden vertue in this fellow,
Or dangerous ill: but whether let it be;
As was my Birth my purpose shall be free.
Make fit my Chamber Jaconet. But first
Give me my Lute; and set me for the signe
Of what I meane to be, the fam'd Novella.
Song.
Whilst she playes and sings above, Paulo waits below: Many Gallants passe over the stage gazing at her. Piso is received in by Paulo, after him a French Cavalier, then a brave Spaniard, and after him a glorious German. Paulo takes fees of all as they enter the house.
The Song ended, Paulo appeares above with Victoria.
Vict.
Now Borgio, how speakes your muster roll?
What? are you full?
Pau.
I have an army royall
Of Princely spirits, ready for incounter.
Vic.
But one at once good Borgio.
I have encamp'd them each in severall quarter.
Here lies the no lesse politick then stout
Italian force, and there your sprightly French;
Here the brave Spaniard, there the German bold;
Here the Polonian, and Sclavonian there;
Persian and Grecian—
Vic.
Pray thee hold. No more.
Pau.
'Tis not your house can hold, (would I admit 'em)
One of each severall nation would throng in
To make his battery on your virgin Fort.
The rich Piazza, on her greatest Mart
Boasts not more Nations; nor St. Marke himselfe
The understanding of more Languages
Then I (could I find house-roome) could receave,
To be made one by your interpretation
O what a Daring glasse is sparkling beauty;
Fetching ambition from above the pitch
Of towring Eagles, or Sky-touching Larks
Down with a glance into the Nets of Love!
Vic.
Pray thee speake nearer home, who hast thou
hous'd?
Pau.
I have cull'd from the pack a speciall prince;
Foure glittering Gallants; one of Italy,
For our deare Countries sake; But then a Monsieur,
A joviall French-man, all of flame and spirit.
Vic.
I shall not dare to meddle with his glory
For feare I fall with Simele, who next?
Pau.
A Spaniard next, that, to adorne his pride,
Weares an Epitome of both the Indies.
Vic.
I saw his punctuality passe by.
Pau.
And did you note his stiffe reservednesse?
He dares not cough for breaking of his chaine,
But then there is a Dutchman, (Cargo lustick!)
A jolly strong chind German, princely borne;
A Landsgrave at the least; whose very bluntnesse
The fiery Frenchman, or the doughty Diego
In all their eager pursuit.
Vic.
That man Burgio!
You have bestowd them all in severall Roomes?
Pau.
O like fierce Beasts, from sent of one another.
Vic.
Then first, in faire requitall of the Musick,
I doe imagine some of them bestowd
On me, this morning e're my Love appeares
To feed their eyes, let Musick feast their eares.
Exeunt Om.
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