University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Armando's Lodgings.
Enter Armando, Placentia.
Plac.
Oh! Armando!
Thou more than Friend to the distress'd Placentia!
Say, how shall I regain my lost Bassino,
My false, perfidious Husband?

Weeps.
Arm.
Dear Madam, moderate your sorrow:
Reserve those Tears to move Bassino's heart,
Mine is all Pity: You may rest secure
Of all the Arguments a Friend can use
To bring him back to your endearing Arms.
Vertue's not quite extinguish'd in his Breast,
Therefore I hope the sight of bright Placentia
Will rouze his slumbring Reason—

Plac.
Oh! Bassino! Bassino!
Oh! wretched woman! Oh! that I had dy'd
E're I had known him false: Then I were happy:
And, tho contented with his second choice,
He with a pitying sigh perhaps had grac'd
My memory—
Oh! all ye Powers that Vertuous Love inspire,
Assist me now: inform my vocal Organs
With Angel Eloquence, such as can melt
His heart of Flint, and move his former kindness.
(Aside.)
But if that fail, I will remove the cause
Of both our woes—Yes, that happy Charmer,
That Rival of my Love shall surely die.

Arm.
Doubt not of the success: What Heart of Steel
Could e're resist such Beauty drest in Tears?

Enter a Servant.
Serv.
Sir, Count Bassino enquires if you are within.

Plac.
Oh! Heavens! how I tremble!

Arm.
Lucky opportunity—shew him up.
Madam, be pleas'd to step into that Closet,
Till I can found the utmost of his Thoughts,
And shew him naked to your secret view.
Then when he's in the height of impious Passion,
You like a Bolt from Heav'n shall rush on him,
And strike his Folly dumb.

Plac.
Almighty Powers, whose Providential Care
Is ever kind to vertuous innocence,
Oh! help me now in this Extremity.
Exit Placentia.

Enter Bassino.
Bass.
How does my Friend Armando?

Arm.
My Lord, Armando's well,
And wishes you were so.

Bass.
Dost thou discover ought that gives thee cause
To doubt I am not well? indeed, I think
I am in perfect health—

Arm.
My Lord, I should be glad
To find that Fever of your mind abated
In which I left you last—

Bass.
aside.
I must dissemble now,
Else I'll ne're gain my ends—My dear Armando,
That Fever, thou speakest of, is now succeeded
By a cold Ague fit: The bare Remembrance
Of my unlawful Passion shakes my soul.

Arm.
such sudden Cures have often prov'd pernicious,
And we have reason to suspect a wound
Too quickly heal'd—

Bass.
Not when thou knowest what Balsom I applied.

Arm.
There's scarce a Balm for the deep wounds of love,
Besides Possession, and I cannot think
You have enjoy'd Aurelia.

Bass.
I swear I have not—
But I enjoy my Reason: my free Reason:
And who possesses that, can never cherish
A thought against himself: For such I call
Whatsoever keeps me from my lawful Wife,
My dear Placentia, to whose Arms I'll fly
With all the eager haste of a fond Bridegroom.
There I shall revel in the virtuous Pleasures
Of a chaste Bed—Oh! my Friend Armando!
My dear Placentia's Friend! Canst Thou forgive?
Indeed, I'm penitent and will offend no more.

Arm.
My Lord, these are the words you spoke before:
What greater Reason have I now to think
You'll keep your promise?

Bass.
Pride, Honour, Justice are come to my Aid,
And Love too feeble to withstand 'em all,
Has left the Field to my victorious Reason.
Pride, with the prospect of my future greatness,
Allures me to return with speed to Turin.
T' obey my Princes Orders.
Honour and Justice tell me I'm Placentia's,
And that Aurelia is Alonzo's Bride.
To him she gave her Virgin Vows: Nay, more,
To him her dying Father did bequeath her;
He loves her too, and shall not be depriv'd.
My Passion is subdu'd, and I'm resolv'd
My self to give Aurelia to Alonzo.

Arm.
If this be true, then you are my Friend again:
But how came you to learn Aurelia's
Engagement to Alonzo?

Bass.
I have it from him self, who an hour since,
With eager Fury sought to 'venge on me
His injur'd Love, and challenged me to fight:
I chose with Justice to defend my Life,
And quit Aurelia, rather than to vanquish
In such a Cause—Alonzo strait embrac'd me,
Call'd me his Friend, and vow'd I should not go,
Till I had seen him joyn'd in solemn Marriage
With bright Aurelia—This I readily granted.
Canst thou believe me true?

Arm.
My Lord, I do believe you—
And am o're-joy'd to hear your Resolution:
By Heaven! There's more Glory in subduing
Our wild desires, than an embattled Foe.
Now do I wish his Wife had never come.

Aside.
Bass.
Armando, Thou'rt my Friend, and on that score
I must desire you to repair to Turin,
With all the speed you can, to bear these Letters
To our great Prince: and beg he will excuse
My stay for three days more—And here this Letter
Bear to Placentia—speak to her the kindest
The softest things thy fancy can suggest.
I shall make good thy promise—
My dear Placentia! Oh! that she were here
Panting and warm within these longing Arms!
'Tis a long Age since I did see her last!
But come, my Friend, you must this hour set forward.

Arm.
With all my Heart: But 'twill not be amiss
Before I go to fix the Victory
Which conquering Virtue in your Breast has gain'd;
And if what you pretend be real Truth,
I have a welcome present for Bassino.
Madam, come forth—

Enter Placentia.
Bass.
What do I see! My Wife! This was a lucky Plot:
Aside.
Hypocrisy did ne're befriend me more. H---
This was not like a Friend—why should Armando
Disturb her soft Tranquility of mind,
And give her ocular Proofs of my Disloyalty?
Oh! my Placentia! my beloved Wife!
Embraces her.
Oh! That I should e're think to wrong my Dear!

Pla.
My Lord, waste not a sigh on my account:
My Joys are infinite since you are mine,
And what is past I easily forget.
Nay, let me beg for Pardon: for I know
I have offended you in coming hither.
I should have waited this Return of Virtue:
Or if abandon'd, silently have mourn'd
My loss, without upbraiding my lov'd Lord.
All this I should have done, but mighty Love,
Too powerful for Duty to withstand,
Guided my steps to Venice—
In hopes my presence would retrieve your Heart.

Bass.
Gods! That this Woman were Aurelia!
Aside.
Thou wonder of thy Sex! Thou best of Women!
I blush to think that thou hast heard my Folly:
Yet since your love cancels your just camplaints,
You make me doubly blest: and I'll reward
This excellent Goodness with eternal Fondness.
Oh! that thou hadst been here! Not all the Beauties
That Venice holds could have diverted me,
No, not one moment from my dear Placentia.
Long absence is the Bane of new-born Love,
But Fate shall ne're have power to part us more.

Plac.
Oh! My dear Lord, your Goodness is too great:
And I'm o're-paid for all my sorrows past.
Armando, say, is not he wondrous kind?

Arm.
Madam, I told you Virtue
Was struggling in his Breast, and that it might
O'recome his Vicious Love, I thought your presence
Was requisite—And now, My Lord, I hope
You will forgive me, since all the Endeavours
I us'd before had been in vain. I once
Design'd to let Aurelia know your Marriage.
But then perhaps she would not have believ'd me:
Let this plead my Excuse in sending for Placentia.
Without your knowledge.

Bass.
I must not let him see I am concern'd.
Aside.
I know 'twas Friendship all, well meaning Friendship:
I only am to blame: But I'll retrieve
My Credit in your Heart, and still deserve
The Name of Friend—And thou the best of Wives,
Shalt ne're have cause to doubt my constant Love.

Plac.
Oh! My Bassino! This Excess of kindness.
Exalts me o're all mortals, if you're true
There's not a blast within the Power of Fortune
Can shock my Happiness.

Bass.
Thou shalt ne're find me false, I swear Thou shalt not.
Oh! that I could engage
She would return to Turin with Armando;
Aside.
For if she stays I never can enjoy
My bright Aurelia, and by Heaven I will,
Altho ten thousand lives should pay the Purchase.

Pla.
My Lord, you seem disturb'd.

Bass.
It troubles me
You can't appear in Venice with a Train
That may bespeak the Rank you hold in Savoy.

Plac.
to Armando.
Oh! Armando!
He is so kind, I wish I ne're had come!
What if I offer to return with you?

Arm.
Madma, you will do well:
For I my self cannot suspect him now.

Plac.
My Lord, let not my Presence here disturb you,
I doubt your Love no more, and to convince you,
I will go back before 'tis known I'm here.
Besides, 'tis fit I should prepare all things
To welcom you at home.

Bass.
aside.
Blest opportunity!
Fortune I thank thee: Would my Dear then leave me
So very soon? Alas! 'twill be an Age
E're I return to Turin: Three long days;
No, my Dear, no; I will not part from thee,
At least this night, my Love—

Plac.
Will then Armando stay?

Bass.
No, my best Hopes, he instantly departs
With Letters to my Prince.

Plac.
Then suffer me to go this very moment.
Three days will soon be o're, and you're return,
Shall make me fully blest—if I should stay
'Twould look like base distrust, and I can't think
Bassino would be false—

Bass.
aside.
Oh! Heaven! that I were not!

Arm.
Indeed, my Lord, I think your truly happy.
Scarce does an Age produce so good a Wife.

Bass.
Oh! that I could reward this wondrous Goodness!

Plac.
My Lord, what makes you sigh?

Bass.
To part from thee: But since 'tis your desire
It shall be so. Armando, to thy charge
I here commit the Treasure of my Soul,
Take care of her, and think that on her safety
My Life depends.

Arm.
My Lord, I hope you do not doubt my care.

Bass.
Dear Friend, I do not—
May Heavens Blessings still attend my Love,
Embraces, & goes to lead her off.
My dear Placentia.

Plac.
As many more guard my Bassino.

Bass.
aside.
A sudden horror seizes all my Limbs:
I tremble at the thought of this base Deed—
Pulls out his Hankerchief and drops a Letter, which Armando takes up.
Ha—Tears uncall'd for bath my guilty Eyes—
Gods! either give me virtue to withstand
This impious Love, or courage to pursue it
Without Remorse: for I'm but half a Villain.

Exeunt Bassino, Placent.
Arm.
Opens the Letter.

A Letter!—And to Aurelia! Now curiosity
prompts me to know the subject—What's here?

Reads.

I have dispatch'd Armando to the Court of Savoy, and found pretence
to stay behind—

False, treacherous Man!

This night I give a Mask at my Lodgings, which, I hope will divert Alonzo
till the Priest has joyned our hands; and while all the Company are engaged
in mirth, I'll steal to the dear Arms of my Divine Aurelia.

Oh! Villain, Villain! Monstrous Villain!
Oh! Poor Placentia! But I will prevent
His Policy, and break his wicked Measures.

Exit Armando.

SCENE II.

Pizalta's Lodgings.
Enter Pizalto solus.
Piz.

Why, what makes this young Jade stay so long? Adod, This is
to pay before-hand—Ha—Methinks I hear a laughing and giggling
in my Wife's Apartment; I must know whence their Mirth proceeds.
Ho! Here's Lucy coming—Harkee you, pray, why did you make me
wait so long? Nay, I'm resolved you shan't scape me now— [Goes to the

door, and pulls in Ludovico, in Lucy's Cloaths, whose Commode falls off in the

struggle, and discovers his bald head.]
Oh! Benedicite! What have we
here? A man disguis'd in my Wife's Chamber! And I unarm'd! Oh!
Curst Minute!—Speak, Thou wicked Prophet, Thou Son of Iniquity,
what camest Thou here for? Ha—Thou Priest of Baal, to offer
Sacrifices on the Altar of my Wife? Oh! My head! My Horns weigh
it down to the ground already—Within there, bring me my Sword and
Pistols.

Lud.

A Pox on all Petticoats—What a Devil shall I say now? Oh!
for a Sword! That would be of more use to me now than my Tongue.

Enter Lady Pizalta.
Piz.

Oh! Thou wicked Salacious Woman!

L. Piz.

What ails my dear Chucky? Why dost Thou call for Arms,
Deary?

Piz.

To cut down that vile Creeper, which over-runs thy Garden of
Virtue—

L. Piz.
aside.

Now Impudence assist me.

Ah!—Heavens! What's here? A man in disguise? A Thief it must be
—Raise the Servants—Oh Heaven! we might have had all oer
Throats cut in our Beds—Now for Lucy, for I am at a loss to come off

aside.
Piz.

No, no, I warrant, you know he is more gentle in Bed.

Lud.
aside.

Oh! the Devil, what does she mean? Death, Hell and Furies!
if I come off now, catch me at this sport again and hang me—

Enter Lucy.
L. Piz.

Oh! are you there, Mistress? how came this man here in
your Cloaths? ha—Gentlewoman—

Lucy
aside.

How confidently she asks the question, poor Lady! as if she
knew nothing of it! Now must I bring her off—

For Reasons you must not know, Madam.

Piz.

Ah! Thou wicked pair of Bellows to blow the Fire of Iniquity!
Why thou art the very Casement thro which thy Mistress sucks the Air
of Abomination—Tell me, I say, how he came here, and for what—
and be sure it be a substantial Lie, or 'twill not pass.

Lud.
aside.

All my hopes are in her impudence.

Luc.
to Pizal.

Harkee, Sir, one word with you—Do you remember
our agreement to night?

Piz.

Why, what of that? ha—

Lucy.

Then imagine what I design'd that Gentleman for: I'm honest,
Sir, that's all—

Piz.

I'm honest, Sir, that's all—

Mimicking her tone.
Piz.

Honest! with a Pox—What! and so you honestly provided
a Companion for my Wife in my absence—ha—

Lucy.

No, Sir, I design'd him for your Companion in my absence—
This is the business he was drest for: Therefore no more words, but believe
my Lady honest, or all shall out.

Piz.

Oh! The Devil! This shan't pass, Hussy—Do you think
I'll be Cuckol'd, jilted, bubbled, and let it pass for a Christmas Gambol.
Adod give me my Bond again, or—or—

Holds up his Cane.
Lucy.

No—hold there, Sir: Women and Lawyers ne're refund a Fee:
But 'tis your best way to be patient now, I'll not take Blows.

L. Piz.

Why, all this whispering? why mayn't I know the business?

Piz.

I am mistaken if you have not known too much Business already:
But I am right enough serv'd—I had more ground before than I could
manage; I had no need of my Neighbour's.

Lucy.

Right, my Lord; Ground that lies fallow will breed Weeds in
time: but yours is clear yet.

Piz.

Damn your Jests: I shall expect a better account, do you hear? I'll
find a Servant to see you out of doors to Ludovico.

Exeunt Pizalta and Lady.
Lud.

Well, this was an admirable Lift at a pinch—She has brought
me off now—And if e're they catch me at this Musick again, I'll give 'em
leave to make an Italian Singer of me—No more intrigues in Disguise—
if it had not been for the Waiting-woman now, I might have been
hang'd for a thief.

Lucy.

What all amort, Signior, No courage left?

Lud.

Faith, not much—I think I have lost my Manhood with my
Breeches—This transformation may suit with Gods, but not with
Mortals of my Humour—Come, prithee, good Mistress Lucy, help me
to my proper shape again, for tho I have a natural inclination to Petticoats,
I hate 'em upon my own Back.

A Flourish of Musick within.
Lucy.

Hark! I hear Count Bassino's Musick: He gives a Mask to
night, you are already drest for Masquerade, won't you stay and take a
Dance?

Lud.
Egad, I'd rather dance a jig with Thee elsewhere:
Faith Thou'rt a pretty Girl—And hast a good deal of wit too—
But then pox on't Thou'rt honest, Thou sayest thou cannot swallow a
Pill except 'tis gilded o're with Matrimony.

Lucy.
Hum—And that turns your Stomach I warrant.

Lud.
Why, Ay: Faith my Stomach is damn'd squeamish in these
Matters: Yet, Egad if I could find one with half as much Money as
Thou hast Wit and Beauty, I'd Marry, and live honest:

Lucy.
That is, you'd marry her Money—

Lud.

One with the other, Child: There's no living upon Love
thou knowest—Tho Faith I could Love well enough too.

Lucy.

Well, suppose I help you to a Lady with a round summ, you'd
keep your word and marry her?

Lud.

I am a Gentleman, I scorn to break my word.

Lucy.

Well, Sir, come to the Mask, and I'll engage you a Mistress, if
you are not over-curious.

Lud.
With all my Heart:
I'm now resolv'd to leave this Wenching-Trade.
For no Man's safe upon a Hackney Jade:
Th'Allay of danger makes the Pleasure Pain,
A Virtuous Wise will always be the same.

Exeunt