 | Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband |  |
SCENE II.
Enter Flamineo.Flam.
I've scap'd the Storm, but left Vittoria Stranded, and
bound in Honour to get her off; but personal Safety is the first
Point of Politicks. I must shift my Flag that's certain; but what
Colours to put up, whether Merry, Melancholy or Mad, is the
Question. The last has most Priviledges belonging: I'll counterfeit
Distraction for the Disgrace of my Sister, 'twill keep of dangerous
Questions. I will talk to any Man, answer no Man; and
for a time be a politick Mad-man.
[Exit.
Ant.
My Lord, we griev'd for your Departure;
But more for your Return being so dangerous.
'Twas giv'n out here, you were turn'd Pyrat—
Lud.
I was engag'd in such an Expedition,
But summon'd off by the politick Cardinal
And Duke of Florence to some Land-Service,
Some dry State-Mischief, and in such a Post,
Where I'd serve Volunteer.
Gasp.
Against Brachiano.
Lud.
Driv'n by the double force of Love and Spight;
Hatred to him, Love to his Murder'd Dutchess.
Re-enter Flamineo.
Fla.
W' indure the stroaks of Fortune like hard Steel,
Till Pain it self, makes us no Pain to feel.
Who shall do me Right now? Is this the end of Service.
Lud.
What can this mean.
Fla.
O they have wrought their Purpose cunningly,
As if they wou'd not seem to do't of Malice.
Gasp.
Yes, it will out at last I question not
By Proofs most Manifest.
Fla.
Proofs—'Twas Corruption—Gold, what a Prince art
thou! Man, what a Slave art thou—Knaves turn Informers, as
Maggots turn to Flies: You may catch Gudgeons with either—
A Cardinal? What is there so demure, but Money will Corrupt.
Ant.
Can this be Artifice.
Fla.
Savages are honest Folk; here they sell Justice by those
Weights they press Men to Death withal.
Gasp.
Fie Flamineo.
Fla.
Bells never ring well, till they come to their full Pitch;
and the Cardinal never speaks well, till he comes to the Scaffold.
Ant.
Ha! ha! ha!
Fla.
—Farewel—Let others live by Begging, it's none of
am—dost hear me? Practise the Art of Carrion-Eaters, swallow
that works in a Saw-Pit—I'le go hear the Screech-Owl.
[Exit in a wild manner.
Lud.
This was Brachiano's Pandar, and 'tis strange
That in such open and apparent Guilt
Of his Adulterous Sister, he dares utter
So scandalous a Passion—I must mind him.
Re-enter Flamineo.
Fla.
How dares this Banish't Count return to Rome,
His Pardon not yet purchas'd? I have heard.
[Aside.
The deceas'd Dutchess gave him Pension:
And that he came along from Padua,
I'th' Train of the young Prince—There's somewhat in't,
Physicians that cure Poysons, still do work with Counter-Poysons.
Mark this strange Encounter.
Melancholy turn thy Gall to Poyson,
And let the stigmatick Wrinkles in thy Face,
Like to the boysterous Waves in a rough Tide,
One still overtake another.
Lud.
I do thank thee; and I do wish ingeniously,
For thy sake, the Dog-days all the year long.
Fla.
How croaks the Raven?
Is our good Dutchess dead?
Lud.
Dead.
Fla.
O Fate! Misfortune comes like the Coroner's Business,
Huddle upon Huddle.
Lud.
Shall thou and I joyn House-keeping?
Fla.
Yes, Content.
Lett's be unsociably Sociable.
Lud.
Sit some three days together and Discourse—
Fla.
Only with making faces,
Lye in our Cloaths.
Lud.
With Faggots for our Pillows—
Fla.
And be Lousie—
Lud.
In Taffata Linings; that's gentile Melancholy:
Sleep all Day.
Yes: And like your melancholy Hare,
Feed after Midnight.
Lud.
We'l never part.
Fla.
Never, till the Beggary of Courtiers,
The Discontent of Church-men, Want of Soldiers,
Be taught in our two Lives,
[Enter Antonio and Gaspara.
To Scorn that World, which Life of means deprives.
Ant.
My Lord I bring good News: The Pope on's Death-bed,
At the earnest Suit of the great Duke of Florence,
Hath sign'd your Pardon, and restor'd unto you—
Lud.
I thank you for your News, look up again
Flamineo, see my Pardon.
Fla.
Why do you Laugh?
There was no such Condition in our Covenant.
Lud.
Why?
Fla.
You shall not seem a happier Man than I,
You know our Vow Sir, if you will be Merry,
Do't with a sabby Politician's Face.
Lud.
Your Sister is a damnable Whore.
Fla.
Ha?
Lud.
Look you, I spake that Laughing.
Fla.
Dost ever think to speak again.
Lud.
Do you hear?
Wil't sell me forty Ounces of her Blood,
To water a Mandrake.
Fla.
I do not greatly wonder you did break,
Your Lordship learnt long since, but I'le tell you.
Lud.
What?
Fla.
And't shall stick by you.
Lud.
I long for it.
Fla.
This Laughter scurvily becomes your Face,
[Strikes him.
If you will not be melancholy be Angry.
Mar.
You're to blame, I'le force you hence.
[Ex. Mar. and Fla.
Lud.
Unhand me,
That e'er I should be forc'd to right my self
Upon a Pandar!
Ant.
My Lord!
Lud.
H'had as good met with his Fist a Thunder-bolt.
How this shews?
Lud.
Misfortune, how did my Sword miss him?
These Rogues that are most weary of their Lives,
Still scape the greatest Dangers.
But let him go, all his Reputation,
Nay, all the Goodness of his Family,
Is not worth half this Earthquake;
I learnt it of no Fencer to shake thus:
Come Sirs—the next turn's Mine.
[Exeunt.
| Injur'd Love : or, The Cruel Husband | |