 | The Slighted Maid |  |
16
Actus Secundus.
Enter Vindex with a Pacquet of Letters in his hand.Vin.
This Wedding-day, this Dancing, and this Fidling,
Puts all my Master Decio's business by:
Porter at Gate, speak to the Pacquet-Boat,
These are for Venice, hast thou any Letters?
Enter Corbulo.
Cor.
None.
Vin.
Hast thou any Wine? the Slave's a-dry.
Cor.
None neither.
Vin.
Corbulo, then farewell and be—
Cor.
Hang'd thou mean'st, Rogue, that stop deserves a Bottle,
Corbulo embraces Vindex.
And in my Lodge I have a bouncing Bottle,
Good-fellows too, come in, we'l take a Touch;
But first, sing o're the Roll, and name our Healths.
[Corbulo., Vindex.]
They Sing.
Drink to me, Boy;
Here's to thee, Boy;
A Health t'our Master,
A Nobler never obey'd I;
Couple him with my Lady,
Never Man had a Chaster;
Match the Vice-Roy, as even,
With his Royal Creatour
To the King: bless him Heav'n,
knocking at Gate.
And a pox take the Traitor.
17
Hey! what rapping? Vindex, turn the Key.
Vin.
Thou think'st thou art a Lieutenant still,
And tak'st me for thy Corporal? look thou
To the Gate, I dare not, lest I be knockt,
Their fingers are so furious.
Cor.
If the Lodge
Be thus unquiet, such an Iron-mill,
I'l turn our fine young Master, Decio,
Out of my Service; hold, and let me see
Who 'tis, that knocks so like a Gentleman.
Enter Salerno, Iberio, and Arviedo.
Cry' mercy, Sir; though I thought 'twas no Begger;
I lookt not for a Prince.
Sal.
Iberio, go,
[Exit Iberio.
Mind thou thy Mistris; Fear is the best Spie,
Thou, Arviedo, make discoveries.
Arv.
I have made one, Sir, Is not this the Soldier,
That, when our men fell basely from th'Assault,
Ralli'd them, beat the French, enter'd the Breach,
And set upon the Bulwark the King's Colours?
Sal.
He serve a private man?
Arv.
Know'st thou the Prince?
Cor.
He has forgot me.
Arv.
Sure I have seen thy face?
Cor.
And this hand, Arviedo, better arm'd;
Sal.
Lieutenant Corbulo? why, fellow-Soldier,
Prethee how comes thy Partizan thus chang'd
Into a Porter's Staff?
Cor.
The times are chang'd, Sir,
War into Peace, and Soldiers into Beggers,
And, Sir, you know, Beggers must be no Chusers;
If I might chuse my Office, I would be
18
And in my hand I'd flourish Steel, not Silver.
Sal.
I cannot blame thee, for Steel masters Gold,
There's some for thee, drink my Mistris's Health.
gives him gold
Cor.
I must drink to your inclinations
Health upon Health; we hear, Sir, you are raising
A Regiment of Mistresses; how fill
Your Companies, how many do you Muster?
Sal.
I beat my Drums yet.
Cor.
March a thousand strong,
I am for your first Mistress, a pitcht Battel,
A fair Campania; War, Sir, glorious War
Will dignifie your Title, raise your Fame.
Sal.
True, Corbulo, and ruine my Estate,
Have we not President for that? what Fortune
Has fam'd Gonsalvo, the great Captain, left
To his Posterity? is not the young Heir
Of that brave General's Family, Giulio,
So poor, he dare not shew his face in Naples?
Cor.
But you know Generals Heirs who are great Lords.
Sal.
Why dost not thou fight to advance thy self?
Now the Pope raises here a Regiment
Comanded by my Lord Iberio.
Go with my Friend to Candy and get Honor;
Kill Turks, man, and the Signory of Venice
Will make thee' a Knight of th'Order of St. Marc.
Cor.
Though I've got only wounds in the King's Service,
I will not fight but by the King's command,
And in a place of Honor and of Profit:
But, Sir, your highness needs no Salary.
Sal.
I may, like th'Emperor Maximilian,
Trail my Pike under an invincible King.
Cor.
Serve ours again, fight for the Crown of Spain,
And I'l no longer serve a Foreiner.
19
Wu't serve me, in thy Neopolitan Mistris?
Cor.
No; I keep her for my Venetian Master.
Sal.
It seems, thou hast a Charge of Chastity.
Cor.
One of the Warders in the Brazen Tower.
Sal.
That keep thy Dande safe from midnight Visits.
Cor.
I'l help your Highness to a handsomer—
Sal.
Handsomer than thy Lady?
Cor.
Than all Ladies,
Th'incomparable Beauty, Continence:
Make short sleeps; lie and fare (as I do) hard,
You shall have Continence, an't please your Highness.
Sal.
Hang her, she pleases neither High nor Low:
But I am pleas'd to see thy care Lieutenant.
Cor.
True to my trust.
Sal.
For which (hold) there's more Gold.
Cor.
More Counsel I will give you for this Fee,
Marry, and make me your Porter.
Sal.
Here's my hand—
Cor.
It is a liberal one, I kiss your Bounty.
[Exit.
Sal.
I dare not trust this Soldier, there may be
More of the Crew, he may command a Party:
Let's seek Iberio out, and fetch him off.
[Exeunt Salerno & Arviedo.
Enter Iberio and Pyramena.
Py.
You may praise my good Nature, you'l scarce match it
In Naples; shew another of my Sex,
That scorn'd like me, will slight the Injury,
And welcome the Affronter; but you'r welcome
To Decio's House, my Heart, and your old Love.
Iber.
But will you love me, may I ask, and hope?
Py.
I promise you any thing in my power.
Iber.
Will you then, do—
Py.
Do what?
20
It will not out;
Do me the favour to shew me the House,
Which seems to be like you, a Paradise.
Py.
The Building is much handsomer than I,
But both are (equally) at your dispose:
The Rooms of State your Lordship may see now,
But 'twill be Dinner-time ere I can shew you
The private Lodgings.
Iber.
On, sweet Madam, on.
Enter Salerno.
Sal.
Iberio? stay.
Iber.
You will not offer it,
Now she invites me?
Sal.
To thy ruine, fool:
The Porter is Lieutenant Corbulo,
The boldest Officer of all our Foot,
Thou know'st him, he confesses, he takes Pay
Of Decio for securing his fair Wife.
Enter Arviedo hastily.
Arv.
Stand on your Guard, Decio has lin'd his House
With Mariners out of the Turky-Ship,
Which came from the Levant into the Harbour
This morning.
Iber.
See the fruit of Mistresses.
Arv.
How much more noble would your death have been
Had your blood smeer'd a Bashaw's Semiter?
Then you had di'd upon the Bed of Honor.
Py.
He cannot have a Plot to murder you.
Arv.
Two hours since he had one to poison him;
I heard the Word given now, it is, Fall on.
Py.
Your Forlorn I will be.
21
Say'st thou me so?
I shall love Mistresses better for thy sake.
[within]
Dec.
Fall on.
Salerno, Iberio, and Arviedo draw their Swords.
Sal.
Do, Rogues.
Iber.
We'l sell our—how? a Dance?
Sailers and their wives Dance.
Enter Decio and Vindex.
Vin.
What will you do?
Dec.
Villain, how dar'st thou ask?
Justice I'l do, teach men how to slight Maids.
Princes, the Turky-Ship thus speaks your welcome
To my VVife's House, for I have neither House,
Nor Land, nor Body, nor Soul, all's my Wife's,
And (mark Poetick Prophecie) she'l be yours.
Iber.
My Wife?
Dec.
Your Wife.
Sal.
When, Decio?
Dec.
Let me see?
All the men of my race di'd (punctually)
At two and twenty, so that three years hence
She's yours, if you've a stomach to her then,
As ready as the Wedding-dinner now
On my Wife's Table, your Wife that shall be
Three years hence.
Py.
Have but patience till we have din'd,
After the Banquet.
[Exeunt Decio & Pyramena.
Sal.
Thou shalt see and taste
The Fruit of Mistresses and my Endeavours.
Look you serve me (another time) as well.
Iber.
Better, I'l work thee a new Mine of Beauty.
[Exeunt.
22
Fil.
Quick, fellow-servants, set the Chairs, Gioseppe:
My Ladi's little Dog has foul'd the Carpet,
Perfume here, Princess Diacelia.
Dia.
Princess Diacelia?
Fil.
I shall say, Fritilla,
For, to serve Diacelia and Leandra
(As by a Guardian's duty bound) I have
Unlorded my self and Unprincess'd thee,
Granchild Fritilla, Daughter to my Son
That's at Madrid, Mace-bearer to the King;
But I defie the City of Madrid
To match this Spanish Beauty.
Dia.
You are pleasant;
But Guardian, I should say, Grand-father Draco,
Why are we Spaniards? if you had still been
My Lord Filomarini, your son Lugo
Had marri'd me without dispute.
Fil.
No Grand-child,
He had too great a passion for Leandra.
Dia.
Me-thinks, in your own shape you might have aw'd him.
Fil.
I should have sham'd him into Impudence
If I had made a publick Business of it.
Gio.
Twelve thousand Pistols you had sav'd your son.
Fil.
Whate'r he loses, she shall not lose him,
Nor shall my Nephew, the Prince of Salerno,
That's mad for Mistresses, now want a Wife:
I'l bring them about, Master, as the Wind
Carries thy Sails, without appearing in't.
23
Look where Leandra comes, your Bride-grooms Love.
Dia.
Let me embrace my Rival.
Leandra lays her hand on Diacelia's breast.
Lean.
We'l not quarrel;
Here sticks Love's Arrow with the golden head.
My sullen heart is wounded with Dull Lead.
Fil.
But why alone, young Mistris? where's our Lady,
Th'old Hag, your Mother?
Lean.
Talking with a Captain
Sent from your Son.
Fil.
The Fool imploys the Pyrate.
Lean.
Yes to lay me aboard; I hope you'l fight him?
Fil.
My Nephew shall; for, the Prince of Salerno
(If you can like him) must love you, I'l charm him
With this Leandra' in little, this thy Picture
Given me by a Witch (I mean, thy Mother)
Shall melt him, (Liver, Lungs, Brain, Heart, and all)
As if't were his own Picture, made in Wax,
And stuck with Needles.
Lean.
When I see your Nephew,
I'l tell you how I like him: 'tis the Man,
And not the Prince, that I shall look upon.
Fil.
I see, thy humble humor is quite spent.
Lean.
I found my spirits when I found my friends,
(Thanks to this Plot, my good Guide Gioseppe)
But to your Lordship's Orders I submit.
Fil.
Yet a while seem obedient to th'old Woman.
Enter Menanthe and Peralta.
She comes, the Pirate after her.
Me.
Wait here,
to Peralta, (who in his hand has a small Coronet and knot of Diamonds.)
24
Hosepe, we are pleas'd with these new Servants
Of thy commending, once again you're welcom.
they bow to her.
Draco, do what you undertake to do,
Shew the young Prince, (who cries up Mistresses)
Leandra's Picture, try how much he'l offer,
Lugo's twelve thousand Pistols must not buy her.
[Filomarini bows, and goes off.
Hosepe, take you, from the Captain's man,
Those Turky-Vests sent us by my Lord Lugo.
[Gioseppe bows, and departs.
Fritilla, chuse you out the richest Vest,
And fit it to Leandra: Mignion, look
That you obey my Maid in point of Dress;
[Diacelia and Leandra make low Courtsies.
And heark you! trifle not your time away;
Your Lord will come straight: do y'hear? put on Patches.
[Leandra still makes Courtsies down to the ground.
[Exeunt Leandra & Diacelia.
Twelve thousand Pistols in Gold I expected,
[to Per.
But, Friend, if you ingage that, bona fide,
The Jewels are worth so much, I'l acept'em.
Per.
Two thousand Pistols my Lord Lugo will
Bring from the Mint, these are well worth ten thousand.
Me.
These you deliver upon Reputation?
Per.
First, Madam, give me leave to satisfie
My curiosity; do you, Greek Ladies,
Keep Turkish State?
Me.
It is both State and Wisdom,
Servants and Children to their Mistresses
And Mothers should be Mutes, bow, not presume
To ask.
Per.
But may a Stranger use his tongue?
25
Me.
What would you say?
Per.
Protest, I know not what:
For though we that are bred up in the Wars,
Are seldom out of countenance in Peace,
Your presence daunts me.
Me.
We are Great, not Proud.
Per.
I am not ignorant, what a high Esteem
The Court has for you, what respect the Lords;
May then a poor plain Captain ask a question?
Me.
It shall be answer'd, if't be in our Sphere.
Per.
'Tis in the Sphere of your Activity;
Live you not by your Wits?
Me.
Alas, poor Captain;
Are you come to your Wits? Fear's a short Phrensie,
Speak again.
Per.
Live you by your Wits?
Me.
Again.
Per.
Are you a Cheat?
Me.
In Hell's name, what art thou,
That ask'st me this damn'd question?
Per.
A Sea-Captain.
Me.
Or (as some Copies render it) a Pirate.
Per.
I was a Pirate, Sovereign of the Sea,
Fir'd Billows, to make way for Robbery,
Kept a Prize-Office at Algier, of Goods
Stoln from my Prince, the mighty King of Spain,
(For which I have his Pardon in my poquet)
And do you think a Pirate, an old Thief,
Can want eyes to discern his fellow-Thief?
Me.
It were a vanity for me to halt
Before a Cripple; I imploy the Talent,
Nature gave me to live by: This young Lord
26
Over and over. But (bold Captain) you
That were the Sovereign of the Sea (and so forth)
Kept a Prize-Office at Algier, of Goods
Stoln from your Prince, the mighty King of Spain,
You will not scruple (sure) to joyn in cheating
Any of the King's Subjects, though your Friend?
Per.
Joyn? we'l joyn Issue, for I'l marry thee.
Me.
Two words to such a bargain, worthy Captain.
Discharge your Trust, deliver me the Jewels,
And on my Honour, I'l not be unthankful.
Per.
Three words to such a bargain, noble Lady.
These Gems are held in Mort-main, lockt as fast
As in a dead man's hands, I will take nothing,
I'l give my self and these; accept of both,
Or neither.
Me.
What if neither?
Per.
Why then, Madam,
Graciously you may please to hang your self,
And save the Law a labour. Does Menanthe
Because grown gallanter, (Leandra taller)
Think I forget thee and thy theft in Candy?
Refuse me, and to all Thieves (that dare live
Under the Noses of the men they robb'd)
I'l make thee an Example; marry me,
This Hand, this Sword, protects thee.
Me.
Nay, if you
Have had a Passion for me so long since,
And never yet, from your undaunted heart,
Could blot out my Remembrance; 'tis a Match.
Per.
Lugo shall pay thy Portion.
Me.
One half, Captain;
The Prince shall pay the other Moyety.
[Exeunt.
27
Sal.
From th'Universal Monarch?
Fil.
That's his Style.
Sal.
Tell me (ere I inquire into thy Message)
How long is't since his Holiness confer'd
That Title on the King?
Fil.
What King?
Sal.
Our King,
The King of Spain; com'st thou not from the King?
Fil.
I come from one to whom the King's a Subject.
Sal.
Thou speak'st not like a subject; what's thy name?
Fil.
My name is Draco.
Sal.
Of the Athenian Draco's?
Fil.
No, of the English Drakes, great Captain Drake
(That sail'd the World round) left in Spain a By-blow,
Of whom I come.
Sal.
From whence com'st thou to me?
What Prince's Agent art thou?
Fil.
Love's, Love's Envoy;
I am a Messenger from Cupid, sent
To help you to a Venus.
Sal.
But one Venus?
Fil.
To one, two, three, four hundred Venuses:
Build a Seraglio, I can furnish it
With Rarities; Provided, you will have
The Patience of a Prince, to see, and hear.
Sal.
Reverend Pimp, thou shalt have Audience.
Fil.
Illustrious Potentate, Love's Envoy shews
Letters of Credence; There's a Mistris for you.
[Fil. shews a Picture, Sal. looks on't and throws it away.
28
There she's for thee again, the Pox to boot,
To wish it her, the curse would come too late;
Why, one Eye's perish'd.
Fil.
Sir, I Articled
For patience; what great Lapidary ever
Shew'd his best Diamond first? Here's one will fit you.
Sal.
Fourscore years hence, for she's at least a hundred.
Fil.
You're very curious; This is young enough.
Sal.
Ugly enough too in all conscience;
Pretty' Owl, how't stares? and deep in the Green-sickness:
Go, go; she that I take the pains to cure,
Shall be a Paragon.
Fil.
A Paragon
This is, or my eyes fail me; by degrees
Examine her, the Morning is not younger—
Sal.
Nor blushes sweeter; what a Skin? the Alps
Were never whiter: Lips which eager Birds
Would peck at, for Ripe Cherries; Cæsar's Eyes,
That Conquer Nations they but look upon.
Fil.
Have I perform'd like a Discoverer?
Sal.
Had the great Drake (whose Issue thou art) put
As many Girdles round about the Earth,
As ever the Sun did about the Heavens,
A Lovelier he could not have discover'd.
But, Sirrha, will you justifie this Piece?
Shall not I (as a mighty Prince did) curse
The Picture-drawer, when I see the Maid?
Fil.
Sir, if her Character were to be writ:
The sweetness of her Disposition,
Her Mildness, Innocence, Humility,
Obedience, if these were to be describ'd,
Your Highness might curse th'Orator and Poet;
But you will bless me and the Picture-drawer,
29
Sal.
Ha, Leandra?
I have heard of her Mother, the Greek Lady,
My service, honest Draco, soon at night
I'l visit her.
Fil.
No, then you'l come too late;
Your Cousin Lugo will be marri'd to her:
His Duel was a trick, Sir, to change Brides.
Sal.
That must not be; then I'l go with thee, Draco.
Fil.
No, then you'l come too early; let me try
My little wit first to break off the Treaty.
If you'l be at your Palace, when 'tis time
I'l call you.
[A Banquet set forth.
Sal.
What if Lugo should debauch her?
Fil.
I'l watch for you, like Danae's old Father.
Sal.
I'l pay thee better than young Jupiter
Paid his Procurer, when the wanton God
Coin'd himself into Gold. Let none corrupt
Enter Iberio.
Her Virtues but my self. Iberio, see,
[Exit Fil.
Wonder, and shake hands, I am going to her.
Iber.
You shall stay, and rid me of Decio first.
Enter Pyramena.
Py.
I cannot get my Husband to the Banquet,
He's so pleas'd with your Cousin Arviedo,
(His Brother-Lutenist) he has carri'd him
To see his new Scenes, for this hour they're safe.
Sir, will you please to sit?
Sal.
To wait of you.
Iber.
Oh, pray be gone; he's full of business, Madam;
You lose your time.
30
Then I've my liberty.
Iber.
I'l throw Marc Antony's old Shoo after you:
His Slippers will serve me, I'm going to bed.
Now, Madam, we are (to our wish) alone.
Exit. Sal. they sit to the Banq.
Py.
The fewer the better fare; you freelier may
Taste any thing you love here.
Iber.
I love you.
Py.
You cannot better, than I love your Lordship.
Iber.
That's Musique to our Banquet. Let's embrace
The Opportunity, and one another.
Py.
I hope I understand not, what do y' mean?
Iber.
To claim your promise.
Py.
What was't?
Iber.
Any thing
In your pow'r.
Py.
Such a promise I did make.
Iber.
Perform it; your Injoyment's in your power.
Py.
I have heard Casuists say, That's only in
Our pow'r which justly and safely we may do.
Iber.
Then do what's in your pow'r, perform your Promise,
That's just; and be my Love, and you are safe.
Py.
In Honor
Iber.
Honor?
Py.
I love you, my Lord,
Above all men, (my Husband not excepted)
But I love Virtue more than I love you.
Iber.
If you love Virtue so much, when you knew
My application vitious, why did you
Incourage me to hope? tell me the truth?
Py.
The truth is, I have fool'd you.
Iber.
Cruelly.
Py.
I have indeed, cruelly fool'd your Lordship.
He rises and shuts the door.
31
Iber.
Oh no; my fair inviting Cruelty,
You will be found the Ravisher: no Law
Adjudges him a Murderer, that kills
One that provok'd him. Th'Anch'rite, who has liv'd
An Age in's Grave, remembers not his Mistris
With greater horror, than I thought of you,
Until you courted me, and blew the sparks
Of my old Love into a flame of Lust,
Which shall (as your due Punishment) consume you,
In your own Instrument of Tyranny,
Like the Designer of the Brazen Bull.
Py.
Your Brazen Bull's an Ass; th'Inventer of it
A Novice in my Art of Tyranny,
He tortur'd but the Body, I the Soul,
Which I know nothing more torments, than Hope
Rais'd high, and levell'd.
Iber.
Do you smile?
Py.
I laugh,
To see so great a Soldier fool himself
With a belief, that th'Enemy (the Traitor,
As you were graciously pleas'd to call me)
Would yield without a Summons: true it is,
To work your Hope up to a Confidence,
My white Flag I hung out, courted a Treaty,
As if I held a Fort untenable,
You'l find it Man'd, the Woman so well Man'd,
That you may sooner take Constantinople.
Iber.
Yet valiant Madam, notwithstanding all
Your scornful Ranting in our Terms of War,
You are impolitique in your cruelty,
That to torment me sacrifize your Honour.
She catches a Knife from the Table.
32
See what protects my Honour; if you stir,
I'l shew you what poor Lucrece should have done,
My Honour shall not dye before my self.
Iber.
But if you kill your self, the Prince (who knows
You sought this meeting) what will he report?
Py.
Report can neither do me good nor hurt,
[She lays her hand on her heart.
Here's that will justifie me after death.
And know, that since Iberio declar'd
For Jealousie against Love, I scorn'd life:
Nor had my Soul indur'd her Clog so long,
But to convince you of Apostacy:
This made me marry a Fool, and then invite
You to this Parley, that your Eyes might give
Your Heart the Lie, when you beheld me stand
The Flatteries and Threats of him I love,
Yet not dishonor him that I love not;
And now, farewel to both.
Iber.
Hold, more than Woman,
Heroick Lady, shew one Bravery more;
Forgive me, next ill thoughts I have of you,
I'l pluck my heart out, 'tis no heart for me,
That thinks you less than Saint.
Py.
Now we are friends.
[She flings down the Knife.
Iber.
And friend, I'l tell y' a secret, kept from you,
When I was but your Servant; I command
These men rais'd by his Holiness to serve
The State of Venice against the Grand Signor;
They are imbark't, this night I go abroad,
Therefore my Love, (still you're my Virtuous Love)
Though it grieves me to speak—
Py.
And me to hear—
Iber.
Yet the sad word must be pronounc'd, Farewel.
33
You shall not Farewel yet, I'l call for Cards
And hold you one hour longer.
Iber.
What you please;
I am your Soldier, you command in Chief.
Py.
Then play a little, to beguile our grief.
[Exeunt.
| The Slighted Maid | |