 | The Sad One |  |
24
Act. 4.
Scæn. 1.
Enter Francelia and Bellamino.Franc.
Fie, leave this importunity, my Lord,
I shall yield else, by this kiss I shall.
Bell.
By this, and this, and this, thou shalt:
Heavens, what a breath is here!
Thy father fed on musk and amber
When he begot thee, sure; the wanton air
Chaf'd by the hot scents of Arabick spices
Is nothing nigh so sweet; the Ambrosia
The Gods themselves were drunk with,
Dwells on thy lips.
(Enter Florelio senior.)
Franc.
Come, come, you flatter,
'Tis on yours, my Lord.
Bell.
On mine! alas, Nature gave us the prickles,
You the roses, but meant that they should grow together.
[Kisses again.]
Franc.
So, so, what if the King or Florelio saw ye?
Bell.
What if they did? I can fear nothing now
But surfeits: Come, we lose time, my Fairest,
Do we not? this is the minute—
[Kisses her again]
25
By heaven this is not fair, Madam.
Franc.
Wonder strikes me dumb.
Exit.
Flor.
How does she kiss, Favorite?
Bell.
Who, my Lord?
Flor.
My wife, my Lord: draw, draw, or by all my hopes,
My rage will make me turn a murderer.
Bell.
Not so easily—
[They fight]
Flor.
Hold, let's breathe: Why should I do him right,
Who has done me such wrong? or die for her
That will not live for me—
[Puts up]
Go enjoy her—
[Offers to go out]
Bell.
Soft—
[Pulls him back]
You have stolne a secret here
That you must give again, or take my life—draw.
Flor.
Prethee disturb me not.
Bell.
No, unless you promise never to disclose
What you have here discover'd,
This must be the passage.
[Stands betwixt the door and him.]
Flor.
Hum! I will be mute, credit me,
I will not speak one word.
[Offers to go out again]
Bell.
Nay—
[Pulls him back]
You must swear it too.
Flor.
If I must, I must.—By heaven
And by my honor—How tame a thing
A Cuckold is!—
Exit.
Bell.
S'death, why did I let him go?
We can no more subsist together
Then fire and water—
26
And charity tells me, better he then I.
But how? it is not for my honor
To kill him basely—
(Studies)
Nor is it for hers to kill him otherwise;
The whole Court will ghess the quarrel,
If it be a Duel—
(Studies again)
It is decreed; No matter which way, so he fall:
Mine, in respect of hers, are no respects at all.
Exit.
Scæn. 2.
Enter Docodisapio, Drollio.Doc.
Abused, grossly abused! a base affront,
Believe it Drollio.
Droll.
Why, what's the matter, Signior?
Doc.
Why, do you hear nothing?
Droll.
No, why what should it be?
Doc.
Pisaro is the man.
Droll.
Fie, fie, it cannot be;
The State could not commit so great an oversight,
Neglect a man of merit for Pisaro, fie, fie!
Doc.
Want of judgment, Drollio;
An unlearned Council, I ever told you so,
Never more heads, nor never less wit, believe't.
27
Say you so, Seignior, that's hard:
What say you to Diano?
Doc.
Alas an ordinary Brain,
Talks and talks it's true,
But speaks more then he is, believe't,
Betwixt you and I a meer pratler.
There's Falorio too; why, he cannot read his own hand;
Vasquez cannot speak sence without two days
Premeditation, Sillio, Vechio, Caronnio,
All Stones in their Head—
Droll.
If I should tell these Lords now, Seignior,
What you say, it might cost an Eareorso.
Doc.
I, why there's another abuse i'th' State,
A man shall have his ears cut off for speaking
A truth. A sick Government, Drollio,
And a weak one believe't; it never thrived
Since Spain and we grew so great.
There's a mystery in that too, Drollio.
I will know all, before they have any more of my money.
Doll.
Peace Seignior, the King.
Exeunt.
Enter the King, Queen, Lords, an Ambassador from Spain, who has his Audience; after which the King goes out talking with Fidelio, the rest follow. Then enters the two Brothers, the Florellies, the elder speaks earnestly.
Fl. S.
I prethee leave me, by all that's good
Thou canst not know it, why shouldst thou thus
In vain torment thy self and me.
(They whisper.
28
Well, I ghess, and 'tis enough.
Exit.
[The elder Florelio goes out at another door.]
Scæn. 3.
Enter Clarimont, Francelia.Franc.
Think not, good Sir, your elegant inforcements
Can seduce my weaker innocence; it's a resolution grounded,
And sooner shall the fixed Orbs be lifted off their hinges,
Then I be mov'd to any act
That bears the name of foul:
You know the way you came, Sir.
Clar.
Is this all the respect the King shall have?
No, you would do well to clothe this harsh denial
In better language.
Franc.
You may please to say,
I owe my life unto my Soveraign,
And should be proud to pay it in
At any warning, were it nere so short:
But for my Chastity, it doth so much concern another,
I can by no means part with it:
So fare you well Sir—
Exit.
29
By heaven a Saint, no woman;
Sure she was born o'th vertues of her Mother,
Not of her Nieces; the whole sexe
May come to be thought well of for her sake.
I long to meet Florelio; my joy is not compleat
Till I have cured his jealousies as well as mine.
Exit.
Enter Florelio, and a Boy.
Flor.
There was a time when Snakes and Adders had no being,
When the poor Infant-world had no worse reptiles
Then were the Melon and the Strawberry:
Those were the golden times of Innocence,
There were no Kings then, nor no lustful Peers,
No smooth-fac'd Favorites, nor no Cuckolds sure.
Oh!—how happy is that man, whose humbler thoughts
Kept him from Court, who never yet was taught
The glorious way unto damnation;
Who never did aspire
Further then the cool shades of quiet rest,
How have the heavens his lower wishes blest!
Sleep makes his labors sweet, and innocence
Does his mean fortunes truly recompence:
He feels no hot Loves, nor no Palsie-fears,
No fits of filthy Lusts, or of pale Jealousies:
He wants, it's true, our clothes, our masks, our diet,
And wants our cares, our fears, and our disquiets.
But this is all but raving,
30
[Lies all along on the ground.]
Boy, sing the Song I gave you.
A Song to a Lute.
[Boy]
Hast thou seen the Doun ith' air
when wanton blasts have tost it;
Or the Ship on the Sea,
when ruder waves have crost it?
Hast thou markt the Crocodiles weeping,
or the Foxes sleeping?
Or hast view'd the Peacock in his pride,
or the Dove by his Bride,
when he courts for his leachery?
Oh so fickle, oh so vain, oh so false, so false is she!
[Flor.]
Good Boy, leave me!
(Boy exit.)
Enter Clarimont.
Clar.
How now Florellio, Melancholy?
Flor.
No, I was studying, prethee resolve me
Whether it be better to maintain
A strong implicit faith,
That can by no means be opprest;
Or falling to the bottom at the first,
Arm'd with disdain and with contempts, to scorn the worst?
31
This is a subtile one; but why studying about this?
Flor.
Faith, I would find a good receipt for the head-ach,
That's all.—
Clar.
Hum, I know now whereabouts you are;
No more on't, I'm come to clear those doubts,
Your wife is chaste, chaste as the Turtle-dove.
Flor.
Ha, ha, ha!
Clar.
Ha, why do you laugh? I know she is, 'tis not
So many hours, since I tempted her with all my eloquence,
And for the King, yet found her cold as ice.
Flor.
Ha, ha, ha!
Clar.
You do not well to tempt a Friend,
You do forget she is my sister.
Flor.
I would I nere had known you had one.
Clar.
You'll give a reason now for this.
Flor.
None.
Clar.
By all that's good, since our dear father left us,
We are become his scorn; look you Sir,
[Draws]
I dare maintain it.
Flor.
But I dare not; put up, put up, young man,
When thou hast known a woman, thou wilt be tamer.
Exit.
Clar.
Ha! what should this mean?
I know he's valiant, wise, discreet: and what of that?
Passion, when it hath got the bit, doth oft-times throw the Rider:
—Yet why should I be peremptory?
She may, for ought I know, be yet unchaste
With some unworthy Groom.
[Studies]
32
'Twould not be amiss—
For souls, at such a time, like ships in tempests
Throw out all they have. And now I think on't,
Her trial shall be quick: Friend I'll do thee right,
Come on't what will, she dies if she be light.
Exit.
Scæn. 4.
Enter Signior Multecarni the Poet, and two of the Actors.Mul.
Well, if there be no remedy, one must act two parts;
Rosselio shall be the Fool and the Lord,
And Tisso the Citizen and the Cuckold.
1 Act.
That cannot be, Signior, you know,
One still comes in, when the other goes out.
Mul.
By Jove 'tis true; let me see,
We'll contrive it, the Lord and the Usurer,
The Citizen and the Polititian;
And sure they never are together.
But who shall act the Honest Lawyer?
'Tis a hard part, that.
2 Act.
And a tedious one,
It's admired you would put it in, Squire;
33
To represent any thing on the Stage,
That cannot be.
Mul.
Why, dost think 'tis impossible for a Lawyer to be honest?
1 Act.
As 'tis for a Lord Treasurer to be poor,
Or for a King not to be cozened.
There's little Robin, in debt within these three years,
Grown fat and full by the trade:
And then there's Borachio, an unknown man,
Got it all by speaking loud and bawling:
Believe it, Signior, they have no more conscience
Then an Inn-keeper.—
Mul.
I grant you all this; An old Cook, and a good, will please all palates:
There's that for the young Tapers of the Law;
Then there's a bawdy Jest or two
Extraordinary for the Ladies;
And when it comes to be acted in private,
I'll have a jerk at the State
For the Country-Gentlemen: If it does not take,
My masters, it lies not upon me,
I have provided well;
And if the stomack of the times be naught,
The fault's not in the meat or in the Cook.
Come, let's find out Lepido
And dine at the Mermaid—
Come let us have one Rowse, my Joves, in Aristippus,
We shall conceive the better afterwards.
Act.
Agreed, agreed—
[Exeunt singing]
34
For now at home is Washing-day:
Leave your prittle-prattle, let's have a Pottle,
We are not so wise as Aristotle.
Scæn. 5.
Enter Clarimont, Florelio.Clar.
By heaven she's false, false as the tears of Crocodiles,
Or what is yet more feign'd: I do confess,
Your pardon, Florelio, come pray your pardon,
Perchance I may deserve it.
Flor.
You have it, so has she; would heaven would do it as easily as I.
Clar.
Heaven cannot do so foul an act,
She has—oh, she has done too much!
And should not I see justice done,
The gods would punish me. Brother, clear up,
The world shall not be one day elder
Ere I see thy injuries revenged:
This night the King will revel
And be gamesom; he will change beds with thee,
Deny him not, and leave the rest to me.
35
Thy youth I see doth put thee on too fast,
Thou hast too much of passion, gentle brother:
Thinkst thou the death of a poor lustful King
Or Peer can give me ease?
No, for if it could, my hand durst go as far that way
As thine—
Had she been chaste, there had no tempters bin,
Or if there had, I had not thought it sin.
Draw not thy sword at all, I do beseech thee,
'Twill not deserve one drop of Noble blood;
Forget it, do, for my sake.—
Clar.
May heaven forget me then!
Where is the courage of thy house become?
When didst thou cease to be thy self?
Shall two brave Families be wrong'd,
Most basely wrong'd—
And shall we tamely like Philosophers
Dispute it without reasons?
First may I live the scorn of all the world,
Then die forgotten.—No, no:
Were there as many Actors in thy wrong,
As does the vast Stage of the world now bear,
Not one should scape my rage, I and my ghost
Would persecute them all.
By all our ties of Love, of Brother, Friend,
By what thou holdst most dear, I do conjure thee
To leave this work to me;
And if ere thou canst think
That I present thee not a full revenge,
Then take it out on me.
36
Thy zeal hath overcome me,
What wouldst thou have me do?
Clar.
Nothing but this; Obey the King in all
He shall desire, and let your servants be at my dispose
This night; one of your faithfull'st Confidents
Send hither presently.
Flor.
Well I shall; but what you'l do, heaven knows,
I know not, nor will I:—
It is enough that I, against my will,
Am made a passive instrument of ill.
Farewell—.
Exit.
Clar.
So, there is but this,
The wanton King this night thinks to embrace
My sister; his bed shall prove his grave,
His own Favorite shall make it so:
I have perswaded him she yields,
And this night doth expect him:
He, to make sure oth' Husband,
By my advice, as if he did intend
Some jest, means to change lodgings
With wrong'd Florelio, the Favorite.—
Enter Petruchio.
Oh Petruchio, welcom! You have other clothes,
These I should borrow for a little while,
In Masquing times Disguises are in fashion:
37
'Twill be some Crowns in thy way.
Petr.
I shall pray hard it may, Sir,
My Clothes howsoever are at your service.
Clar.
And I at yours, Petruchio;
But you must be dumb
And secret now.
Pet.
As any Statue, Sir.
Clar.
Come then, let's about it.
Exeunt.
| The Sad One | |