 | The Mistakes, or, The False Report |  |
SCENE I.
The Parade.Enter Ricardo with Soldiers.
Ric.
Come on Gentlemen you have your instructions and your reward,
twenty Florins a man.
1. Soul.
We have, and 'tis enough for this same small piece of villany:
Why Sir, we Souldiers, for half so much wou'd kill our Fathers
and Brothers, and after that Ravish our Mothers and Sisters.
2. Soul.
Ay, ay Sir, Ravishing's nothing with us, 'tis our dayly practise.
1. Soul.
Why I'le you Sir, and o' my conscience 'tis true—
2. Soul.
Conscience fellow Souldier, Zounds what hast thou to do
with conscience?
1. Soul.
Who I? why nothing; the Devill I think was in me for having
such an unlucky thought. How a plague came I to think of Conscience,
that never had any such thing in all my life?
2. Soul.
Zounds how I shou'd know, that know not what it means.
1. Soul.
Well; certainly I am the unfortunate'st Dog in the world—
but Sir, as I was saying,
Ay Sir, pray go on.
1. Soul.
For twenty more, we wou'd cut your Honours throat, tho'
we are so much oblig'd to you for your bounty already.
Ric.
How!
1. Sol.
If your Honour shou'd hire us, and pay us well for our pains.
Ric.
Very likely, that I'de hire you to cut my own throat.
2. Sol.
An you did, you'd not be the first by twenty, that have done it.
Ric.
Come no more fooling.
1. Sol.
Fooling! why I tell you Sir, 'tis our trade, we cannot live
but by murder and cutting of throats: for look you Sir, the blood we
drink, and it makes us fat; the hearts we broil, and eat with Salt and
Vinegar, and 'tis wholesome food, Sir: as for the rest o'th body, if it be
young and tender we make Venison of it, and present it to our friends
and Benefactoas, such as your worship, but if tuff and old we give it to
Dogs, 'tis not worth our care or preservation.
Ric.
You say true but now to our business: when he comes, retire if
you can, so as to o'rehear us; but if not, I hope those same unknown
things call'd Consciences, that can digest murder so well, as without making
wry faces at it, won't baulk a little perjury, especially when
there's twenty good hard round pieces of Gold to help it down.
2. Sol.
Never fear it Sir, 'tis another limb of our Trade; alass we
shou'd halt without it: why Sir we every day practice it for Widdows,
who out of tender care for their Children will Sequester some of their
Mannors to themselves, lest too much plenty shou'd Dabauch 'em.
3. Sol.
And for such grave Statesmen as your Worships honour, when
they have a Suit in Law depending, or any Friend at Court whom they
wou'd give a good Character of to the Goverment.
Ric.
These are fit instruments, as Hell cou'd send me,
And tho' he tamely yeilds himself a Prisoner
Yet shall these Hell-hounds still outswear him,
And baffle Justice with their Impudence:
Nor will the Vice-Roy now be backward to believe 'em,
Since rage has blinded him beyond his reason.
1. Sol.
Sir, Sir, I hear some body coming, I believe 'tis our prey:
Now is my Appetite as sharp as my Sword to be at him.
Ric.
Retire then and observe the Instructions I gave you.
1. Sol.
We'le divide the spoil Boys, shan't we?
Omnes.
Ay, ay, Agreed: but come let's go.
[Exeunt.
Ric.
Now Nemesis assist your Votary.
[stands at a distance.
Enter Alberto.
Alb.
The hour is past, and yet he is not come,
As if in Justice he allow'd me time
Yet why ye Cruel Powers!
Why have you doom'd me to Revenge,
The Quarrell of my Love upon my Friend?
Was't not enough to hear Miranda false,
(To find a spot in that Meridian Sun,
That Silver-Swan, who once like Leda's twins
Brusht the smooth surface of the azurd Sky
And glid along in gaudy Majesty,
Above the Common Glory of the Starrs:)
To see her quencht, quencht in an Asphalites,
And sprout up to the World an Ethiop?
(Oh 'tis a thought that grates upon my heart,
And screws the jarring string untill they crack.
But that my Friend, my Friend should plunge her in,
And be the Tempter of this fall'n Angell,
'Tis Hell, Damnation, and Eternal horror!
Ric.
What a rare poyson is this Jealousy?
That's workt, and almost scorch'd him into tinder
Apt to be fir'd with the least spark of passion.
Alb.
Durst any other snatch her from my Arms?
How wou'd I hug the Stinging Viper,
Till I crusht out his Poyson with his life,
And smile to see his panting Soul
Dance on my bloudy point its way to hell.
Ric.
Now is the Time—My Lord!
[comes forward.
Alb.
Ha! What makes this Court-worm here, This Parasite,
Volume of words, and shadow of a Man?
[aside.
Perhaps he has heard me sighing out my griefs.
Ric.
I have my Lord, and they concern me much;
And urge me to declare it to your face,
Antonio and you must never fight.
Alb.
Must never fight? who dares oppose our fighting?
As well they might resist an Angry wind,
Or stop the Current of an Impetuous tide:
Not all the roaring of Carybdis Gulf
Shall hush the Clamour of my loud revenge;
Nor Mists engender'd by the Queen of Love,
Shall hide her Darling Hero from my Sword.
Ric.
To what excess of bravery you're rais'd,
And spurn your Absent Foe like worthless dirt:
But once more I must tell you Angry Lord,
Antonio and you must ne're engage.
Alb.
'Tis false; Dally no longer with my fury,
Where is the Man dares combat with my Anger?
Ric.
What if the Vice-Roys Orders shou'd controul it?
Alb.
I laugh at 'em.—
What has State-Interest to do with me,
When both my Love and Honour are at Stake?
Ric.
What if the Fair Miranda should command it?
Alb.
The fair Miranda! O thou hast hit the vein,
But call not back the Charmer to my mind.
Whom I've in vain attempted to forget.
Ric.
Then still you love her?
Alb.
Witness all ye Powers!
How much I love that dear Abandon'd Saint!
And with what joy I'de dye to give her ease;
But cannot yield Antonio to her Arms:
Still the tough Mettal of my heart holds out,
And braves the weak efforts of my Ambiguous will.
Ric.
Now then's the time to throw off all disguise.
Know then, I dare, and will prevent your fighting.
Alb.
No more, be gone, wake not my sleeping rage,
To tread so poor an Insect into Clay.
Ric.
That Insect dares your rage Proud Love-sick Lord.
Alb.
Thou art not worth my Anger: But mark me Statesman,
If thy Tongue breath a Syllable of this,
Or dares prophane the business of my Love
I'le rivet it for ever to its roof:
By heaven I'le bath my Vengeance in thy bloud,
And send thee Herauld of this horrid News
To ope the Crackling Gates of Pluto's Realm
And wait Antonio's Coming.
Ric.
Insolent!
Know'st thou what I am?
Alb.
A Statesman, and by consequence a Villain;
A Common Prostitute to every bribe,
Who Traffiques Justice for all damning Gold.
Ric.
I've blood as pure as thine runs through my veins:
Nay more, I am a Lover, and thy Rivall.
Alb.
My Rivall! Can any Generous passion enter there,
That Impregnable Garrison of Vice?
Or darst thou think to Violate my Love,
And offer up thy spurious Flames with mine?
As for Antonio, he indeed is worthy of her,
Fair as the day, and the first dawn of Light,
Before polluted with the Shades of Night,
Ric.
Your praise of him inflames but me the more:
'Tis I alone deserve her best, and will wear her:
I will possess her, riflle all her sweets,
Whilst you gaze on, despair, and cursing, Dye.
Alb.
Ha! sayst thou? but this arm shall bar thy way
And send to keep company with Ghosts:
There may'st thou revell with some Proserpine,
But never think of fair Miranda more:
Draw, if thy trembling hand can hold thy sword:
[Draws.
Ric.
It can, and fix it in thy heart Alberto—
[Draws.
Alb.
Come no more words, but prove it by thy deeds,
That side o'th field is more convenient,
Shaded with trees, and undisturb'd with noise,
Thither let's repair, but make haste Ricardo,
Lest thou recover from this fit of Valour by delay.
Ric.
On then, and let the Conquerour boast,
I think I am secure.
[Exeunt.
[aside.
Enter Soldiers.
1. Sol.
Hark ye Comrades, why the Devill shou'd we betray this gallant
man (who is our fellow Soldier,) for the pleasure of a cowardly Statesman,
who is of a profession, that is our greatest Enemy, and still plotting
for Peace, and to hinder our glorious rapines abroad, that they may
have the spoil of all at home.
3. Sol.
Alas poor Pedro, and art thou troubled with a qualm of conscience?
1. Sol.
No faith boy, I'de have you to know that I am a Soldier, and
scorn any such baseness; but why shou'd not we commit this small peice
of perjury for a brave fellow that loves us, rather then for a Coward
that hates us?
2. Sol.
Ay! but Pedro we have his money, and it wou'd be ingratitude.
3. Sol.
Ingratitude! what's that?
1. Sol.
Why a sort of current coin at Court Boys, that runs like
quick-silver from one to another: for look ye, don't we dayly see
what a crowd of Cringers press there every day, gaping like so many
Jack-Daws for preferment, and commonly such as have spent three
parts of their Patrimony in presenting, treating, and bribing this Lord
or that Squire, this Coxcomb or t'other Fool, and at last for amends, get
only a large sum of bare promises and shallow hopes (quite as shallow as
his Lordships little-witty quilted noddle:) therefore I'le have nothing
to do with it, but leave you all to the Devill to be advis'd.
3. Sol.
By Saint Iago he speaks sense in that; and I scorn to be backward
2. Sol.
I am half converted and of thy opinion too: but my safety
sticks with me, for this same Lord Alberto is on the other hand too
Virtuous, and overcharg'd Virtue, you know, is as ugly as when she
has nothing but skin and bones on her back.
3. Sol.
Right: and therefore he'd thank us for saving of him, but hang
us for betraying the other.
1. Sol.
Hum! and i'gad that may be: for faith tho' I love him very
well, yet I love my self better; therefore to conclude let us kill 'em both,
and then we shall shake hands and part with a merry heart, and a good
conscience.
2. Sol.
No, no, the best way is to seize and apprehend 'em both for duelling,
then shall we enjoy our prize by Law, & perhaps be rewarded by the
Government for our great Care and circumspection for settling and Securing
the affairs of the Nation.
3. Sol.
Well! thou hast a rare head-piece, a rare head-peice i'faith: I
shall live to see thee one of these days on the very pinicle of preferment,
for ahy Policy.
1. Sol.
What dost mean, the Gallows?
3. Sol.
Witty Dog, the Gallows! why faith as thou sayst, the gallows
is a pinacle from whence many a weather-cock has been whirl'd off, and
with as handsome a farewell as your protesting Courtier gives his humble
Servant, that is never to see him more
2. Sol.
Well, well, I've policy enough for a Souldier, and I care for
no more.
1. Sol.
Ay, ay, and so we have all: but see they're met, and coming
this way.
2. Sol.
The Soldier drives the Cowardly Statesman lightning before
him.
Enter Ricardo driven in by Alberto.
1. Sol.
O' Miracle! A Courtier and loose blood in fight: but let's to
our work.
[They seize and disarm 'em.
Alb.
Ha! betray'd! unband me Slaves.
1. Sol.
Slave us no Slaves, Sir, we've sav'd your life, and you must
get your liberty as well as you can.
Ric.
Come, since he's seiz'd return my Sword again,
That I may drein from out his heart his dearest blood
To fill my ebbing Veins: Come let me go.
2. Sol.
Ha! ha! ha! what can the roaring Lion do when he has lost
his Claws and Teeh, but roar? Good noble Squire of the Court you must
hire Soldiers to murder a Soldier, and see what comes on't, I thank you
we've earn'd our money cheaper a great deal.
What mean the treacherous Dogs?
3. Sol.
Mean, why we mean to secure you both: you for bribing us
to murder, and him for not bribing us.
Alb.
Thus heaven can save the Innocent,
'Gainst all assaults, and make the worst of men
The instrument of good. But false Antonio,
False man, thus to conspire against my life,
When thou hast rob'd me of my Love, else how
Shou'd he have known it and prepar'd the means
For execution: Come Gentlemen, lead the way,
The way to Death, the end of all my greifs.
1. Sol.
Our business is to lead you back to prison, since we have given
you a reprieve and are taking you from the place of execution.
Alb.
Wou'd you wou'd lead me to some Labrinth,
Where I might loose my piercing woes for ever,
And wander from my self,
[Exit Alberto with two Soldiers.
Ric.
Ten thousand plagues go with thee.
Did blood affright you Slaves, your dayly food
In peace and war? But come, unhand me now.
2. Sol.
Ha, ha, ha! you think we're in jest, no faith Sir, you'l not
find it so: indeed I cou'd be Jocose enough sometimes, with such a friend
as you are, but that there lags behind (in such a case) hanging in good
earnest.
Ric.
Hell and furies! they deride me too:
O' that I were a Basilisk for their sakes!
Yet think ungratefull Villains of the Gold.
3. Sol.
Prithee talk not to us of gold, when our lives are in danger:
The Law runs thus, he that sees a duell, and does not call for help, or
seize the Combatants, is equally guilty of the breach of the Law, and
under the same penalty, as he that actually engages.
Ric.
Does not your Conscience sting you for your ingratitude?
2. Sol.
Conscience! we've got some Court Opium of you to lull that
asleep.
Ric.
Impudent Slaves!
Gods must I then behold my great designs,
Unravell'd by so base and common hands?
But this defeat shall heighten my Revenge:
I'le call each fiend to harbour in my breast,
And prompt me to the wittyest Acts of horror:
Nay, I'le pursue him dead, and haunt his Ghost;
And tho' I'm sunk ten thousand fathoms deep,
Yet I'le be Ætna still, and spout up Flames,
Shall set the Heavens on fire about his Ears,
And with the mighty ruin ease my Cares.
[Exeunt Omnes
| The Mistakes, or, The False Report | |