University of Virginia Library

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