 | The Antiquary |  |
Actus Tertius.
Enter Bravo and Boy.Bra.
Boy, how sits my Rapier?
Boy.
Close Sir, like a friend that meant to stick to you.
Bra.
He that will purchase honour, and the name of Bravo, must
by consequence be a brave fellow, his titles requires it.
Boy.
But pray Sir, were you never put to the worst in your daies?
Bra.
Who, I worsted? no Boy; I do manage my Rapier with as
much steddinesse and facility, as a Vincor do's his Antler.
Boy.
Sure you must needs be very strong then.
Bra.
Not so neither, 'tis courage in me, I do it by a slight, an activity,
and by that I can controll any mans point whatsoever.
Boy.
Is't possible?
Bra.
I tell thee, Boy, I do as much surpasse Hercules at my Rapier,
as he did me in Club-fighting: have you drawn a Register of
those men, that have been forc'd by this weak instrument, to lay down
their lives, I think it has cut more lives than Atropos.
Boy.
But pray Sir, were they all your own exploits?
Bra.
Indeed Boy, thou maist question it; for, and they were to perform
again, they would hardly be done: what will this age come to?
where be those stirring humors, that were wont to trouble the world?
peace, I think, will o'respread them all like a gangrene, and men will
never dye with a Lethargy: there's no malice extant, no jealousies, no
employment to set wickednesse a work; 'tis never a dead time with me,
but when there's no body to kill.
Boy.
That's a miserable extremity, indeed Sir.
Bra.
Leave me, Boy, to my meditations—
Enter Moccinigo.
Well, go thy waies, old Nick Machivell, there will never be the
pains to chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots of murther
and deceit, and no man has the grace to follow thee; the age is unthankfull,
thy principles are quite forsaken, and worn out of memory.
Moc.
There's a fellow walks melancholy, and that's commonly a
passion apt to entertain any mischief, discontent and honesty seldom
harbour together; how scurvily he looks, like one of the devils factors;
Ile tempt him: by your leave Sir.
Bra.
Ha?
Moc.
No hurt, good Sir, be not so furious, I beseech you.
Bra.
What are you?
Moc.
I am bold to disturb you, and would fain communicate a businesse,
if you had the patience to hear me.
Bra.
Speak, what is't?
Moc.
You seem a man, upon whom Fortune perhaps has not cast
so favourable an aspect, as you deserve.
Bra.
Can you win her to look better?
Moc.
Though not her, yet perhaps a servant of hers, that shall be
as gratious to you, and as profitable.
Bra.
What's she?
Moc.
It may be you want mony, there is a way to purchase it, if
you have the heart.
Bra.
The heart! hast thou the heart to speak, nay to conceive what
I dare not undertake?
Moc.
A fit instrument for my purpose, how luckily has Fortune
brought me to him? do you hear Sir, 'tis but the slight killing of a
man, or so, no more.
Bra.
Is that all?
Moc.
Is that nothing?
Bra.
Some queasie stomack might turn, perhaps, at such a motion;
but I am more resolv'd, better harden'd: what is he? for I have my
severall rates, salaries for blood; for a Lord, so much; for a Knight,
so much; a Gentleman, so much; a Peasant, so much; a Stranger, so
much; and a Native, so much.
Moc.
Nay, he is a Gentleman, and a Citizen of Venice.
Bra.
Let him be what he will, and we can agree; it has been a foolish
ambition heretofore, to save them, and men were rewarded for it with
too fast.
Moc.
Do you know one Signior Aurelio then? he is the man, he
woo'd my Mistris, and sought to win her from me.
Bra.
A warrantable cause; shew me the man, and 'tis enough.
Moc.
And what must I give you?
Bra.
At a word, 30 Liures, Ile not bate you a Betso.
Moc.
Ile give you twenty.
Bra.
You bid like a chapman: well, 'tis a hard time; in hope of your
custome hereafter, Ile take your mony.
Moc.
There 'tis; now for the means, how can you compasse it?
were you not best poison him, think you?
Bra.
With a Bullet or Stilletto, poison him? I scorn to do things so
poorly; no, Ile use valour in my villany, or Ile do nothing.
Moc.
You speak honorably, and now I think on't, what if you beat
him welfavour'dly, and spar'd his life?
Bra.
Beat him? stay there, Ile kill him for this sum, but Ile not
beat him for thrice the value; so he might do as much for me: no, Ile
leave him impotent for all thought of revenge.
Enter Lucretia.
Moc.
Well Sir, use your pleasure—Look you, here's the Gentlewoman,
for whose sake it is done—Lady, you are come most opportunely,
to be a witnesse of my love and zeal to you; he is the man
that will do the feat.
Luc.
What feat?
Moc.
That you and I consulted of, kill the rascall Aurelio, take him
out of the way; what should he live any longer for? Ile have no man
breathe, that you disgust.
Luc.
Then ought you to go and hang your self.
Moc.
Who, I hang my self, for what? my good service, and respect
of your quiet? if he have any minde to haunt your chamber hereafter,
he shall do it as a ghost, without any substantiall shape, I assure
you.
Luc.
I think the fool be in earnest, I must use policie, and not play
away a mans life so; nay prethee sweet-heart be not angry, 'twas but
to try thee: this kisse, and my love.
Moc.
Why, here's some amends yet, now 'tis as it should be.
I am as deep, and eager in this purpose,
As you are, therefore grant me leave, a little,
To talk with him; I have some private counsell
To give him, for the better execution.
Moc.
May I not hear?
Luc.
No, as you love me, go.
Moc.
Her humour must be law; we that are sutors,
Must deal with women, as with towns besieg'd,
Offer them fair conditions, till you get them,
And then wee'l tyrannize: yet ther's a doubt,
Is not resolv'd on.
Luc.
Good Sir, be gone.
Moc.
I vanish: were I best trust this fellow with my Mistris?
Temptations may arise; 'tis all one, I am
A right Italian, and the world shall see,
That my revenge is above jealousie.
Exit.
Bra.
Now Lady, your pleasure?
Luc.
I would not allow my self any conference with you, did my
reason perswade me, that you were as bad as you seem to be: pray
what are you?
Bra.
I am, sweet creature, a kinde of lawlesse Justicer, or usurping
Martialist of authority, that will kill any man with my safety.
Luc.
And you purpose the death of this Gentleman?
Bra.
I will do any thing for hire.
Luc.
Have you no conscience?
Bra.
Conscience! I know what it is: why should any man live, and
I want mony?
Luc.
Have you no regard then of innocence?
Bra.
'Tis crime enough, he has a life.
Luc.
How long have you been vers'd in this trade?
Bra.
'Tis my vocation.
Luc.
Leave it, 'tis damnable;
And thou, the worst and basest of all villains,
It had been better for the womb that bare thee,
If it had travell'd with a pestilence:
What seed of Tygers could beget thee to
Such bold and rash attempts? for a small lucre,
To destroy that, whose essence is divine;
Soules in themselves more pure than are the heavens,
Or thy ill boding starres; more worth than all
The treasure lock'd up in the heart of earth,
And yet doe this unmov'd or unprovok'd.
Bra.
I have no other means, nor way of living.
Luc.
'Twere better perish, then be so supported,
There are a thousand courses to subsist by.
Bra.
I; but a free and daring spirit scornes
To stoope to servile waies, but will choose rather
To purchase his revenew from his sword.
Luc.
I see you are grown obdurate in your crimes,
Founded to vice, lost to all pietie;
Without the apprehension of what wrong
You do your Countrey, in depriving her
Of those she now enjoys, as usefull members,
But killing their posterity, who perhaps
Might with their art or industry advance her.
Bra.
What courteous itch, I wonder, has possest
Your vertuous Ladyship to give mee advice?
Best keep your wits, untill you get a husband,
Who may perhaps require your learned counsell.
Luc.
'Tis true, such as do act thy villanies,
Hate to be told, or think of them; but hear mee,
Hast thou no sence? nor no remorse of soul?
No thought of any Deity, who though
It spare thee for a while, will send at last
A quick return of vengeance on thy head,
And dart thee down like Phaeton.
Bra.
Sweet virgin,
Faces about to some other discourse,
I cannot rellish this.
Luc.
So I believe, but yet,
Compose your thoughts for speedy penitence,
Your life for an amendment, or I vow,
To lay your actions open to the Senate.
Did not your sweet heart tempt me to this deed,
And will you now betray mee?
Luc.
Hee my sweet heart,
I hate you both alike; that very word
Is enough to divorce thee from my pitty,
Past hope of reconcilement; for what mercy
Is to be had of two such prodegies;
Will you recant yet? speak, will you be honest.
Bra.
I think you'l force me to become your patient
Luc.
It is the way to heal thee of a sore
Whose cure is supernaturall; what art,
What mirror is sufficient to demonstrate
The foulnesse of the guilt? whose leaprous mind
Is but one staine, seas cannot cleanse? why, murder
'Tis of all vices the most contrary
To every vertue, and humanity;
For they intend the pleasure and delight,
But this the dissolution of nature.
Bra.
She does begin to move mee.
Luc.
Think of thy sinne,
It is the end apparent unto hell,
And has so many, and sougly shapes,
His father Pluto, and the furies hate
To look on their owne birth, yet thou darst act
What they fear to suggest, and sell thy soul
To quick perdition.
Bra.
This has wak'd mee more,
Into a quicker insight of my evills,
That have empal'd mee round with horrid shapes;
More various, than the sev'rall formes of dreams
That wait on Morpheus in his sleepy den
Luc.
Then 'tis a fearfull sinne, and alwaies labours
With the new birth of damn'd inventions
And horrid practises; for 'tis so fearfull,
It dares not walk alone, and where it bodes,
There is no rest, nor no security,
But a perpetuall tempest of despair.
All this I feel by sad experience,
Where have I been, where have I liv'd a stranger,
Exil'd from all good thoughts? never till now
Did any beam of grace, or good, shine on me.
Luc.
Besides, 'tis so abhorr'd of all that's good,
That when this monster lifts his cursed head
Above the earth, and wraps it in the clouds,
The Sun flyes back, as loath to stain his rayes
With such a foul pollution; and night,
In emulation of so black a deed,
Puts on her darkest robe to cover it.
Bra.
Oh do not grate too much upon my suffrings,
You have won upon my conscience, and I feel
A sting within me, tels my troubled soul,
That I have trod too long those bloody paths
That leade unto destruction.
Luc.
Then be sorry,
And with repentance purge away thy sin.
Bra.
Wil all my daies & hours, consum'd in prayers,
My eyes dissolv'd to tears, wash off such crimes?
Luc.
If they be serious, and continued.
Bra.
You are a virgin, and your vows are chaste,
Do you assist me.
Luc.
So you'l do the like
For me in what I shall propose.
Bra.
I will,
And joy to be employ'd, there's no thought
Which can proceed from you, but which is vertuous:
And 'tis a comfort, and a kinde of goodnesse,
To mix with you in any action.
Luc.
Nay more, in recompence of your fair proffer,
Because you say, you are destitute of means,
Ile see that want supply'd.
Bra.
Divinest Lady,
Command my service.
Luc.
Walk then in with me,
And then I wil acquaint you with the project.
Exeunt
Duke.
I see him coming, let's fall into admiration of his good parts,
that he may overhear his own praise.
Lio.
I have, methinks, a longing desire to meet with Signior Petrutio.
Pet.
I hear my self nam'd amongst them; 'tis no point of civility, to
listen what opinion the world holds of me, I shall conceive it by their
discourse, a man behinde his back, shall be sure to have nothing but
truth spoke of him.
Leon.
Pray Sir, when saw you that thrice noble and accomplish'd
Gentleman, Petrutio.
Pet.
Thrice noble, and accomplish'd! there's a new style thrust
upon me.
Duke.
It pleas'd the indulgencie of my fate, to blesse me with his
company this morning, where he himself was no lesse favourable to
grace me with the perusall of a Madrigall, or an essay of Beauty, which
he had then newly compos'd.
Lio.
Well Gallants, either my understanding misinforms me, or he
is one of the most rare and noble qualified peece of Gentility, that ever
did inrich our Climate.
Leo.
Beleeve it Sir, 'twere a kinde of prophanation, to make doubt
of the contrary.
Pet.
How happy am I in such acquaintance? a man shall have his
due, when your meaner society has neither judgment to discern worth,
nor credit to commend it.
Duke.
'Twas my happinesse, th'other day, to be in the presence with
certain Ladies, where I heard him the most extoll'd and approv'd; one
of them was not asham'd to pronounce it openly, that she would never
desire more of heaven, than to enjoy such a man for her servant.
Pet.
It shall be my next employment, to enquire out for that Lady.
Lion.
'Tis a miracle to me, how, in so small a competencie of time, he
should arrive to such an absolute plenitude of perfection.
Lion.
No wonder at all, a man that has travell'd, and been carefull
of his time.
Leon.
But by your favour, Sir, 'tis not every mans happinesse, to make
so good use on't.
Duke.
Ile resolve you something, there is as great a mystery in the
acquisition of knowledge, as of wealth; have you not a Citizen will
knows but he might have digg'd for it, and so found out some conceal'd
treasure of understanding.
Pet.
Now, as I am truly noble, 'tis a wrongfull imputation upon me.
Leon.
Well, if he had but bounty annex'd to his other sufficiencies,
he were unparallell'd.
Duke.
Nay, ther's no man in the earth more liberall, take it upon
my word, he has not that thing in the world so deer or pretious in his
esteem, which he will not most willingly part with, upon the least summons
of his friend.
Pet.
Now must I give away some two or three hundred pounds
worth of toy's, to maintain this assertion.
Lion.
You spoke of verses even now, if you have the copy, pray
vouchsafe us a sight of them.
Duke.
I cannot suddenly resolve you; yes, here they are.
Lion.
What's this?
as 'tis my Duty;
And tell how every grace doth her become:
'tis ten to one,
But I should fail in the expression.
Leon.
I marry Sir, this sounds something like excellent.
Lion.
Then, by your leave,
Although I cannot write what I conceive;
'tis my desire,
That what I fail to speak, you would admire.
Leon.
Why this has some taste in't, how should he arrive to this
admirable invention?
Duke.
Are you so preposterous in your opinion, to think that Wit
and Elegancie, in writing, are onely confin'd to Stagers and Bookworms?
'twere a Solecisme, to imagine, that a yong bravery, who
lives in the perpetuall sphær of humanity, where every waiting woman
speaks perfect Arcadia, and the Ladies lips distill with the very
quintessence of Conceit, should be so barren of apprehension, as not
to participate of their vertues.
Now I consider, they are great helps to a man.
Duke.
But when he has travell'd and delibated, the French and the
Spanish can lye a bed, and expound Astrea, and digest him into complements;
and when he is up, accost his Mistris with what he had read
in the morning, that if such a one should rack up his imagination, and
give wings to his muse, 'tis credible, he should more catch your delicate
Court ear, than all your head-scratchers, thumb-biters, lamp-wasters
of them all.
Leo:
Well, I say the iniquity of Fortune appears in nothing more,
than not advancing that man to some extraordinary honors.
Lio.
But I never thought he had any genius that way.
Duke.
What, because he has been backward to produce his good
qualities? beleeve it, Poetry will out, it can no more be hid, than
fire or love.
Pet.
Ile break them off, they have ee'n spoken enough in my behalf
for nothing, a conscience; save you Cavaliro's.
Duke.
My much honour'd Petrutio, you are welcome; we were
now entred into a discourse of your worth, whether do your occasions
enforce you so fast?
Pet.
Gentlemen, to tell you true, I am going upon some raptures.
Leo.
Upon raptures, say you?
Pet.
Yes, my employment is tripartite, I have here an Anagram to a
Lady, I made of her name this morning; with a Posie to another, that
must be inserted into a ring: and here's a paper carries a secret word
too, that must be given, and worn by a Knight and Tilter; and all my
own imaginations, as I hope to be bless'd.
Lio.
Is't possible? how, have you lately drunk of the hors-pond,
or stept on the forked Parnassus, that you start out so sudden a Poet?
Pet.
Tut, I leave your Helicons, and your pale Pyrens, to such as
will look after them; for my own part, I follow the instigation of my
brain, and scorn other helps.
Lio.
Do you so?
Pet.
Ile justifie it, the multiplicity of Learning do's but distract a
man; I am all for your Modern humours, and when I list to expresse
a passion, it flows from me with that spring of amorous conceits, that
a true Lover may hang his head over, and reade in it, the very Phisnomy
of his affection.
Why this is a rare mirrour.
Leo.
'Tis so indeed, and beyond all the art of Opticks.
Pet.
And when my head labours with the pangs of delivery, by
chance, up comes a Countesses waiting-woman, at whose sight, as at
the remembrance of a Mistris, my pen fals out of my hand; and then
do I reade to her half a dozen lines, whereat we both sit together, and
melt into tears.
Leo.
Pitifull hearted, carted creatures.
Pet.
I am now about a device, that this Gentleman has promis'd
shall be presented before his Highnesse.
Duke.
Yes, upon my word Sir, and your self with it.
Pet.
Shall the Duke take notice of me too? oh Heavens, how you
transport me with the thought on't?
Duke.
Ile bring you to him, beleeve me, and you know not what
grace he may do you.
Pet.
'Tis a happinesse beyond mortals: I cannot tell, it may be my
good fortune to advance you all.
Lio.
We shall be glad to have dependance on you.
Pet.
Gentles I would entreat you a courtesie.
Duke.
What's that Signior?
Pet.
That you would all be pleas'd to grace my lodging to morrow
at a Banquet, there will be Ladies and Gallants; and among the
rest, Ile send to invite your Uncle the Antiquary, and wee'l be very
merry, I assure you.
Leo.
Well Sir, your bounty commands us not to fail you.
Pet.
Bounty! there's a Memorandum for me; in the mean time,
pray accept these few favours at my hands, as assurances that you will
not fail me; till when, I take my leave.
Exit.
Lio.
Farewell Sir, go thy waies, thou hast ee'n as dull a piece of
scalp, as e're covered the brain of any traveller.
Duke.
For loves sake, Lionell, let's haste to thy Uncle, before the coxcomb
prevent us.
Lio.
Why Sir, I stay for you.
Leo.
Has Petro prepar'd him for your entrance? and is your disguise
fit?
Lio.
I have all in a readinesse.
Duke.
On then, and when you are warm in your discourse, wee'l
of affliction.
Leon.
Be sure you mark your Cue, Sir, and do not fail to approach.
Duke.
Trust to my care, I warrant you.
Exeunt.
Enter Aurelio and Servant.
Aur.
A Gentlewoman without speak with me, say you?
Ser.
Yes Sir, and will by no means be put back.
Aur.
I am no Lawyer, nor no Secretary: what businesse can she
have here, I wonder?
Ser.
She is very importunate to enter.
Aur.
I was once in the humour, never to admit any of them to come
neer me again; but since she is so eager, let her approach: Ile try my
strength, what proof 'tis against her enchantments; if ever Vlisses were
more provident, or better arm'd to sail by the Sirens, Ile perish if she
have the art to impose upon me, let her beg my wit for an Anatomy,
and dissect it—
Now Lady Humour, what new motion in the blood has turn'd the
tide of your fancie, to come hither?
Luc.
These words are but unkinde salutes to a Gentlewoman.
Aur.
They are too good for you, with what face dare you approach
hither, knowing how infinitly you have abus'd me? you want matter
to exercise your wits on, the world's too wise for you, and e're you insnare
me again, you have good luck.
Luc.
Pray Sir, do not reiterate those things which might better be
forgotten; I confesse I have done ill, because I am a woman, and yong,
and 'twill be noblenesse in you, not to remember it.
Aur.
Ile sooner plow up shore and sow it, and live in expectation of
a crop, before Ile think the least good from any of your sex, while I
breathe again.
Luc.
I hope, Sir, that time and experience will rectifie your judgment,
to a better opinion of us.
Aur.
Ile trust my ship to a storm, my substance to a broken Citizen,
e're Ile credit any of you.
Luc.
Good Sir, be intreated, I come a penitent Lover, with a vow'd
Recantation to all former practices, and malicious endeavours, that I
have wrought against you.
Aur.
How can I think better of you, when I consider your nature,
you commit perjury, easier than speak.
Luc.
Sure 'tis no desert in us, but your own misguided thoughts, that
move in you this passion.
Aur.
Indeed, time was, I thought you pretty foolish things to play
withall; and was so blinded, as to imagine, that your hearts were golden
threds, that your eyes darted forth beams, that laughter sate smiling
on your lips, and the Currall it self look'd pale to them; that you
mov'd like a goddesse, and diffus'd your pleasures wide as the ayr:
then could I prevent the rising Sun to wait on you, observ'd every nod
you cast forth, had the patience to hear your discourse, and admir'd
you, when you talk'd of your visits, of the Court, of Counsels, of Nobility,
and of your Ancestors.
Luc.
And were not these pleasing to you?
Aur.
Nothing but a heap of tortures: but since I have learn'd the
Delphick Oracle, to know my self, and ponder what a deal of mischief
you work, I am content to live private and solitary, without any pensive
thought, what you do, or what shall become of you.
Luc.
Sir, if you calculate all occasions, I have not merited this neglect
from you.
Aur.
Yes, and more; do you not remember what tasks you were
wont to put me to, and expences? when I bestow'd on you gowns and
petticoats, and you in exchange, gave me bracelets and shoe-ties? how
you fool'd me sometimes, and set me to pin pleats in your Ruff, two
hours together, and made a waiting frippery of me? how you rack'd
my brain, to compose verses for you, a thing I could never abide? nay,
in my conscience, and I had not took courage, you had brought me to
spin, and beat me with your slippers.
Luc.
Well Sir, I perceive you are resolv'd to hear no reason; but
before my sorrowfull departure, know, she that you slight, is the preserver
of your life; therefore I dare be bold to call you Ingrate, and
in that I have spoke all that can be ill in man.
Aur.
Pray stay, come back a little.
Luc.
Not till you are better temper'd: what I have reveal'd, is true;
and though you prove unthankfull, good deeds reward themselves, the
conscience of the fact shall pay my vertue; so I leave you.
Exit.
Aur.
That I should owe my life to her! which way, I wonder?
but the toy may take me in the head, and I may see her.
Exit.
Enter Antiquary and Petro.
Ant.
Has he such rare things say you?
Pet.
Yes Sir, I beleeve you have not seen the like of them, they are
a couple of old Manuscripts, found in a wall, and stor'd up with the
foundation, it may be they are the writings of some Prophetesse.
Ant.
What moves you to think so Petro?
Pet.
Because Sir the characters are so imperfect, for time has eaten
out the letters, and the dust makes a parenthesis betwixt every
syllable.
Ant.
A shrewd convincing argument; this fellow has a notable
reach with him, goe, bid him enter, a hundred to one some fool has
them in possession, that knows not their value, it may be a man may
purchase them for little or nothing—
Come neer friend, let me see what you have there; umh, 'tis as I said,
they are of the old Roman binding, what's the price of these?
Lio.
I would be loath Sir, to sell them under rate, onely to merit
laughter for my rashnesse, therefore I thought good to bestow them
on you, and referre my self to your wisdome and free nature for my
satisfaction.
Ant.
You say well, then am I bound again in conscience to deal justly
with you, will five hundred Crowns content you?
Lio.
Ile demaund no more Sir.
Ant.
Petro see them deliver'd; now I need not fear to tell you what
they are: this is a book de Republica, 'tis Marcus Tullius Cicero's
own hand writing, I have some other books of his penning, give me assurance
of it.
Pet.
And what's the other Sir?
Ant.
This other is a book of Mathematicks that was long lost in
darknesse, and afterwards restor'd by Ptolomy.
Lio.
I wonder Sir, unlesse you were times secretary, how you should
arive to this intelligence.
Ant.
I know it by more then inspiration, you had them out of a
will you say.
Lio.
Yes Sir.
Well then, how ever you came by them, they were first brought
to Venice by Cardinall Girmannus a Patriarck, and were digg'd out of
the ruins of Aquileya, after it was sack'd by Attila King of the Hunnes.
Lio.
This to me is wonderfull.
Ant.
Petro, I mean to retire, and give my self wholly to contemplation
of these studies; and because nothing shall hinder me, I mean to
lease out my Lands, and live confin'd; enquire me out a chapman that
will take them of me.
Lio.
If you please to let them, Sir, I will help you to a tenant.
Ant.
Will you, Sir? with all my heart, and Ile afford him the better
bargain for your sake.
Pet.
He may pay the rent with counters, and make him beleeve they
are Antiquities.
Ant.
What's the yeerly rent of them, Petro?
Pet.
They have been rack'd, Sir, to three thousand crowns, but the
old rent was never above fifteen hundred.
Ant.
Go too, you have said enough, Ile have no more than the old
rent; name your man, and the Indentures shall be drawn.
Lion.
Before I propose that Sir, I thought good to acquaint you
with a specialty I found among other writings, which having a seal to
it, and a name subscrib'd, do's most properly belong to you.
Ant.
Let me see it; what's here, Signior Iovanno Veterano, de Monte
Nigro, he was my great Grandfather, and this is an old debt of his,
that remains yet uncancell'd; you could never have pleas'd me better
to my cost, this ought in conscience to be discharg'd, and Ile see it satisfied,
the first thing I do; come along.
Pet.
Will you afford your Nephew, no exhibition out of your
estate, Sir?
Ant.
Not a Sol, not a Gazet, I have Articles to propose before the
Senate, shall disinherit him?
Lio.
Have you Sir? not justly, I hope; pray what are they?
Ant.
One of them is, he sent me Letters beyond sea, dated Stilo Novo.
Lio.
That was a great oversight.
Ant.
Then you remember, Petro, he took up commodities, new fashion'd
stuffs, when he was under age too, that he might cozen his
creditors.
Pet.
Yes Sir.
Ant.
And afterwards found out a new way to pay them too.
He serv'd them but in their kind Sir, perhaps they meant to have
cheated him,
Ant.
'Tis all one, I'le have no such practises; but the worst of all,
one time when I found him drunk, and chid him for his vice, he had
no way to excuse himself, but to say he would become a new man.
Lio.
That was hainously spoken indeed.
Ant.
These are sufficient aggravations to any one that shall understand
my honour.
Enter Duke and Leonardo.
Duke.
Save you Sir.
Ant.
These Gentlemen shall be witnesses to the bonds, you are very welcome.
Duk.
I hardly beleeve it, when you heare our message.
Ant.
Why? I beseech you.
Duke.
I am sorry to be made the unkind instrument to wrong you,
but since 'tis a task impos'd from so great a command, I hope you will
the easier be induc'd to dispence with me.
Ant.
Come neerer to your aime, I understand you not.
Duke.
Then thus Sir, the Duke has been inform'd of your rarities,
and holding them an unfit treasure for a private man to possesse, he
hath sent his mandamus to take them from you. See, heer's his hand
for the delivery.
Ant.
Oh, oh.
Leo.
What ailes you Sir?
Ant.
I am struck with a sodain sicknesse, some good man help to
keep my soul in that is rushing from me, and will by no means be intreated
to continue.
Lio.
Pray Sir be comforted.
Ant.
Comfort; no, I despise it, he has given me daggers to my heart.
Leo.
Shew your self a man Sir, and contemn the worst of fortune.
Ant.
Good Sir, could not you have invented a lesse studied way of
torture to take away my life?
Duke.
I hope 'twill not work so deeply with you.
Ant.
Nay, and 'twould stop there, twere well, but 'tis a punishment
will follow me after death and afflict me worse than a fury.
Leo.
I much pitty the Gentlemans case.
Ant.
Think what 'tis to loose a son, when you have brought him up,
or after a seven yeers voyage, to see your ship sunck in the harbour.
Duke.
'Twere a wofull spectacle indeed.
They are but ticklings to this, I have been all my life a gathering
what I must now lose in a moment; the sacking of a city, is nothing
to be compar'd with it.
Leon.
And that's lamentable.
Ant.
'Twill but onely give you a light to conceive of my misery.
Lion.
Pray Sir, be not importunate to take them this time, but try
rather, if by any means you can revoke the Decree.
Duke.
'Twill be some what dangerous, but for your sake, Ile try.
Ant.
Shall I hope any comfort? and upon my credit, Gentlemen, Ile
appoint you all mine heirs, so soon as I am dead.
Duke.
You speak nobly.
Ant.
Nay, and because you shall not long gape after it, Ile dye within
a moneth, and set you down all joynt Executors.
Lion.
But when you are freed from the terrour of his imposition, will
you not recant?
Ant.
Nay, and you doubt me, walk along, and Ile confirm't upon
you instantly.
Exeunt.
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