 | The Slighted Maid |  |
51
Actus Quartus.
Enter Decio and Corbulo.Cor.
Italians are the Prodigies of Malice;
No People under Heav'n, nor Fiends in Hell,
Out-do us in the plotting out Revenges;
But a Design like yours I never heard of,
Nor could believe it possible in Nature.
Yet, for Humanitie's sake, stop your progress.
Dec.
Disswade me not, I'm deaf to intercession.
Cor.
I know, 'twill grieve your soft Soul, when 'tis done;
Then how much better were it, not to do it?
Dec.
If the Train I have laid would spring a Mine
To blow up Naples, I'd give fire and perish.
Cor.
Spare me.
Dec.
How?
Cor.
I desire to be excus'd,
Corbulo will not act in't.
Dec.
But he shall;
Thou hast my Secret, and I have thy Oath:
Dispute not, execute.
Cor.
Well, then I must.
But you'l curse th'Instrument.
Dec.
The hand Divine.
Moves such an Instrument; the hand of Justice
Squares Punishment adequate to th'Offence;
Despair for Scorn is but due Recompence.
My Lord Iberio's with his Regiment.
And Arviedo gone aboard, to take
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To my house, be you sure you let him in.
My Wife may send Arviedo for Iberio.
Leave me; when I stamp thus, bring in thy Message.
Exit Corbulo.
Enter Pyramena.
They danc'd not ill?
Py.
Rarely well. Dear, your promise;
Why did you marry me?
Dec.
Ghess.
Py.
For my Fortune?
Dec.
No, not for Money. Ghess again.
Py.
For Love?
Dec.
Not for love neither; thou art a base Ghesser;
But I'l resolve thee. I did marry thee
(As th'ill-fac'd woman's Husband was made Cuckold)
For spight.
Py.
Ha, ha—
Dec.
I'm glad it makes you merry.
Why, thou more fool than thou imagin'dst me,
What Worm trepan'd thee, boar'd quite through thy skull
Into thy dull brains, to think Decio
Would feed upon Reversion of a Mistris:
A Mistris to my mortal Enemy,
My Sister's Murderer, Iberio?
Py.
I doubt—
Dec.
Do'st but doubt? Bondmaid, know thy Lord.
At our last Conference, I cast off my Clowd,
My Property, the Droll; now I appear
My self, a stern Venetian, principled
Out of old Machiavel—When I marri'd thee,
I marri'd (my dear Sister) thy Revenge.
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How miserable have I made my self!
Dec.
To make me happy; I have scap'd the Wheel
By marrying thee, I'd been broke every bone,
Had I done that I came to Naples for,
Poison'd Iberio any way but this—
I triumph in the ruins of his Love,
His Soveraign is my Slave, my hated Slave.
Py.
But how have I transgress'd? in punishing
Me for him, are you just?
Dec.
No, I am cruel:
All high Revenges must dispense with Justice.
If I had to my End no other way,
But like a Witch to violate the Grave
Of my (now blessed) Sister Exicina,
Who for her love to false Iberio dy'd,
I would break up her hallow'd Marble; tear
Her Sear-cloth; scatter her sweet Bones; and cast
Her dust in's face to blast him.
Py.
O my heart!
Dec.
I would not have it broke, till it be bruis'd;
Until, by slow (but Sensible) degrees,
I break the Idol which my Enemy worships.
I know, your Hearts are like two Lutes rack'd up
To the same pitch, and when I touch but one
The other (by mysterious Sympathy)
Will (though at distance) answer Note by Note,
With the same dying sound; and that's the Musique
My heart so longs to hear.
[He stamps.
Enter Corbulo.
Cor.
A Messenger,
Sent from the Venice Paquet-boat, desires
That you'l come to the Port, he says, the Searchers
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Dec.
Think; like a Soul in Flames,
Think and torment thy self, till I return,
And finish my great work. You are all arm'd?
Cor.
Ready, when you say, Strike; but—yet I've sworn,
Therefore I'l do it.
Enter Arviodo.
Dec.
Arviedo's come;
I hope, she'l send him for Iberio.
[Exeunt Dec. & Cor.
Arv.
Madam, look up, you shall not be thus us'd
By a base man (how was I couzen'd with him!)
I've heard all, I'l call him to an account.
Py.
Is my Lord Iberio gone aboard.
Arv.
An hour since, but the Fleet rides still at Anchor;
I'l take a Boat, and tell him how 'tis with you;
I know he'l come.
Py.
And let me speak with him,
Before you call Decio to an account:
But let him bring no Soldiers, lest the Porter
Shut up the Gates; Dear Arviedo, go.
Arv.
Would I could flie.
Py.
Hast thou not wings conceal'd?
Thou look'st like my Good-Angel.
Arv.
I had need
To borrow both his Vigilance and Speed.
[Exeunt.
Enter Filomarini and Peralta.
Fil.
The greatest honour Draco's Family
Yet ever had, is, that Captain Peralta
(The Glory and the Terror of our Nation)
Has a mind to my Grand-child.
Per.
Oh! she's pretty.
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Prettiness it self I wish her, for your sake.
Per.
She's all that can be wish'd; I've hir'd a passage,
The Master of his Holiness's Gally,
Will land us in St. Peter's Patrimony,
VVe'l straight to Rome, there I'l marry Fritilla.
Fil.
But your old VVife must be left here in Naples.
Per.
Against the next Siege: for when Ammunition
Is spent, she may do service; the old woman
VVill make rare Gun-powder, she's pure Salt-peter.
Fil.
I have been i'th' blind Alley, old fat Joan
Melts her grease for you, she has made your bed
In your old Chamber.
Per.
Careful Grand-father,
I shall requite thy pains.
Fil.
You'l find me honest:
I hope you'l find my Granchild honest too,
I mean not of her Body, (as for that,
You, that must be her Husband, may dispose it)
But honest of her Mind your new Bride must be
By Nature, by my Copie; I dare swear
That to redeem me (if I were in pawn)
She would not rob y' of any of the Jewels
(Which you have promis'd to intrust her with)
Yet if she would she cannot.
Per.
For i'th' Street
I march with my sweet Pris'ner in my hand;
And at my Chamber fold her in my arms.
Fil.
Are you so hot? she has a Julip for you,
Your old Wife shall cure your Concupisence.
[aside.
Per.
But to my business, Grand-father, The Prince
Offers not at this breathing Shrine, Leandra,
And there's no waiting for uncertain hopes;
Besides I fear my Lord Filomarini
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Remember an hour hence, in the close Walk.
[Exit Peralta.
[Wax Lights on the Table.
Enter Salerno, Leandra, Menanthe, Lugo, and Diacelia.
Sal.
All friends, all friends; hang Fear and Jealousies.
I (Cosen) that came to your house this morning,
To give your other Bride, that was my Mistress,
I will not stick at giving of Leandra.
Lean.
Pray hold your hand, my Mother will give me.
Dia.
What means Leandra?
[Men. and Lean. whisper.
Fil.
As you do, to follow
Her Guardian's advice; and yet she needs not
My Precepts, Nature has instructed her:
Madam, be confident, she'l demean her self
As it becomes a Daughter to your Father.
Me.
Take her, Son; finely put off the Fool Lugo.
Lean.
You must not then be angry, if I rant
As well at you as him.
Me.
I will not, Child.
Lean.
Then I'l spare neither. Diacelia now
[to Dia.
Shall see me do a younger Sister's duty,
Cashier your Bride-groom. Mother-Midnight, take
Your Son-in-law and marry him your self;
You may as well obey me, as I you:
I disclaim you for Mother, him for Husband.
Lug.
Have I with all those thousands purchas'd this?
What reason have you for disowning me?
Lean.
What reason had you to disown a Princess?
Lug.
Would not you be a Princess?
Lean.
If I were,
This Antient Gentlewoman (that presumes
To call her self my Mother) should be rack'd
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My Step-mother; for could a Natural Mother
Betray her Child to one that has no Honour
But Title?
Lug.
Blind Love, thou art off my heart:
And now with open eyes I see my folly.
Were your Ambition pleas'd, were you a Princess,
Were you an Angel, since the Devil's in you,
I would not marry you; I'l find a Wife
That's not a wicked Daughter.
Lean.
Do, go home,
'Tis time you ask forgiveness of your Bride.
Lug.
You, of your Mother; but I'l pardon neither,
Both shall hear from me, th'old Cheat, and young Ranter.
[Exit Lugo.
Dia.
So, so; my Game plays well.
Me.
Now he's shak'd off,
My Child puts on her old Obedience:
And on your Highness freely I bestow
(To be commanded what you please) my Daughter.
Lean.
Thy Daughter? do'st thou in good earnest think
Thy self my Mother?
Me.
What think'st thou?
Lean.
I know,
By my own Truth, my Mother was no Lyer;
I know, by my Integrity, my Mother
Could be no Cheat, and by my Modesty
I know my Mother was no Bawd, which you
Would be to the Prince; or else (virtuous Madam)
I should not be commanded what he pleases.
Me.
Wretch, thou wilt break thy aged Mothers heart.
Lean.
Through her Ear; heark you, Beldam.
[Whisper.
Me.
Sure the Devil
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To shift for one, the Rogue will give's the slip.
Let's go, Fritilla; Murd'rer of thy Mother,
Hear my last words, I leave thee to the Prince.
[Exeunt Men. & Dia.
Sal.
You hear your Mother? she leaves you to me,
By her Will Paroll, and that is as good
To all intents of Law, as 'twere in Writing;
Besides, you're left to the wide world, no fortune,
But that foretold me by the Virtuoso—
Lean.
That I should be your Mistris? that's your Servant,
[She takes up one of the Wax-candles.
Servant of Pleasure, put me into waiting,
Pray let me light you to your Bed-chamber?
[Exit Filomarini.
Sal.
By no means; I (your Servant) will light you.
Lean.
The Taper better suits my Fortune, Sir;
And 'tis discretion, ere I do the Fault,
To practise how the Penance will become me.
Sal.
You cannot think, you have so base a Servant
As would see his Mistris do a publique Penance;
Should my Lord-Cardinal here, and the whole College
Of Cardinals at Rome, joyn to disgrace thee,
I'd have a Rendezvouz of all my Friends,
And meet them in the head of a brave Army,
To beat them into more Civility.
Set down the Taper.
Lean.
Not till I have found—
Sal.
You have lost nothing (to my knowledge) yet:
What do you look for?
Lean.
A room dark enough
To cover a Maid's blushes.
Sal.
As I live,
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Why, do you look for darkness with a Light?
I'l blow it out—
Lean.
You may extinguish this;
But who can blow out those, the Lights of Heav'n?
The Stars still see us.
Sal.
When we see not them?
If you mean the great Room, the Skie; 'tis dark,
Not one Star there.
Lean.
Nor any Witness here?
Sal.
Let's search the Chamber—
Lean.
Search the Closet first,
Your Bosome; whosoe're contracts a guilt,
Carries a clowd of Witnesses in his bosome.
Sal.
Her other Fits were Natural, she's now
In her Divine Fit.
[aside.
Lean.
Has he got no feeling?
[aside.
No sense of Honour, in a Man of Honour?
You grow so dull, I see, you'd be at rest,
And you'l not let me usher you: good-night.
Sal.
Wu't cross thy Fortune?
Lean.
No, your Virtuoso
Is not so good, as I, at Fortune-telling;
I'm rare at Physiognomie, I see
My Fortune, wanton Prince, in your proud looks;
You think me too unworthy for a Wife,
And I know, I'm too worthy for a Mistris.
Again, Good-night.
Sal.
Ask any thing but Marriage—
Lean.
Any thing else I scorn, as you scorn me.
Good-night for ever.
Sal.
There's a Passing-bell—
No Composition?
60
Not your Prince's Crown;
I'd rather carry a Milk-pail on my head.
[Exit Lean.
Sal.
Well, go thy way, no Mean man got that Spirit;
If't be her own air, not an humour put
Into her by th'old Knave, in hope I'l marry her,
And then her grateful hand must feed th'old Begger
With my Gold; I've a Way to find the Plot,
And if't be his, I'l cut off the Projector.
Enter Filomarini.
Draco?
[Sal. draws his Sword.
Fil.
Congratulates your Victory;
Nay your Sword, Sir, never made such a Conquest.
Is she not unimaginable Sweetness
You have enjoy'd?
Sal.
I made her a fair offer.
Fil.
She took it?
Sal.
Sooner she'd have taken Ratsbane.
Fil.
You mean not to kill her, for being honest?
Sal.
But I mean to kill thee, for being a Knave,
Old lying Tempter; did'st not thou suggest
The sweetness of her Disposition,
Her Mildness, Innocence, Obedience?
Fil.
Sir, you're a Prince of Famous Memory,
Those were my words, and I remember yours,
Let none corrupt her Virtues but my self:
You wish'd her Virtuous, that you only might
Have the debauching of her, I have done
What you commanded; if she disobey you,
Because she's virtuous must I lose my life?
Sal.
Sall not I sheath my Sword in that Man's breast,
Who has into my bosome flung Fire, Wild-fire,
Not to be quench'd but either in thy blood,
61
I'l marry her.
Fil.
(So cunning) Kill me first;
I would not live, to see your Highness marry
The Daughter of a Cheat.
Sal.
Live, Draco, live
High in our favour, I suspected thee
To have a plot upon me, had I found
Thy hand in't, the whole Earth should not have sav'd thee:
I will not lose thee now for the King's Indies.
Fil.
And shall you lose th'injoyment of Leandra?
Shall such a Prince languish for such a Toy,
That's now at my disposal? to be plain,
The Cheat her Mother, and Sea-Thief her Husband,
Having rookt your poore Love-sick Cousin, Lugo,
Are fled away, Leandra left to me,
But I've a Spie upon them, they will lodge
With the fat Naples-Hostess, at old Joan's:
Sign me your Warrant, I'l bring to your Palace
The Cheats to morrow morning, but this night
Leandra to your bed.
Sal.
Come I'l dispatch thee,
And when 'tis done, I'l give thee a thousand Crowns.
Fil.
And if I do't not, cut my throat in earnest.
[Exeunt.
Enter Menanthe, Joan, and Gioseppe, with a Dark-Lantern.
Me.
Joan, hast thou courage to abuse Peralta?
Joan.
Imbolden'd with your Sack (for I have drunk
[to Gios.
A pottle of your bounty) I'd so fool
The Knave your Husband into honesty,
That he shall stumble over his young Mistris,
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Gio.
Thou wilt be famous
For this night's work.
Joan.
This night, I will recover
The credit of good women of my bulk:
Rogues sha'nt say, all fat Hostesses are Bauds.
Gio.
Me-thinks, this merry Monster should cheer you;
Why do you cry? for your ungratious Child?
Me.
No truly (I've made my best of her) I cry
To think that I should marry such a Villain.
Gio.
You your self being such an innocent creature?
Me.
Send us good luck, for the night's foul and dark.
Gio.
The fitter for our knavery. They stay long;
Enter Filomarini.
Here comes the Captain? no, 'tis Captain Drake.
Fil.
Captain Peralta's at my heels; stand close.
Gio.
Husht, and the old Grey-Cat shall catch her Mouse
That nibbles at a young delicious Maid.
You'l have a sweet night, for he's high and hot.
Me.
I'l cool him with a Robbery, though I die for't.
Enter Peralta with a Dark-Lantern in one hand, leading Diacelia in the other, she wears the Coronet and knot of Diamonds.
Dia.
Well, Captain, you are a complying Captain,
To trust me with those Jewels, nothing else
Could have made me trust my self in your hands:
But now I'l follow you by Sea and Land,
In Peace and War, I'l fight too.
Per.
O brave Girl!
Dia.
You've made me brave, the Master will mistake
My Coronet for Ariadne's Crown,
63
To sail by, this dark night.
Per.
Here is th'Osteria,
We are landed at old Joan's: Shipwrack'd i'th' Harbour?
Filomarini and Gioseppe break their hands and catch up Peralta's Lantern. Gioseppe and Joan put Menanthe's hand into Peralta's: Diacelia laying her cheek to Menanthe's, speaks to Peralta as if he held her by the hand.
My Lantern gone? Fritilla?
Dia.
Here, Sir, here.
Per.
'Twas happy we were come to this blind Alley,
The Streets are laid for me, I durst not call
At any other house. Joan, Joan, why Joan,?
Joan.
Sure I do hear Captain Peralta's voice:
Heigh-ho.
Per.
Why dost thou sigh, and speak so faintly?
A Light, Joan?
Joan.
O good Captain, I beseech you
Name not a Light. That ever I was born
To see the Light of Heaven?
Per.
Would I could see't,
For 'tis as dark as Hell.
Joan.
Hell's a sweet place,
If it be dark.
Per.
What, is the Devil in thee?
Joan.
Not in me; but the Devil's in my Husband,
He's run stark staring mad, and plays the Devil
When he sees any Light, Sir: he struck out
My eldest Daughter's Eyes, because he said
They sparkled: and my Nose was almost levell'd
(Pray feel, I wear a Patch) because 'twas tipt,
Onely a little sprinkled with my Bottle,
64
Per.
Then you've no fire?
Joan.
Nor Candle, Sir, Glow-worm, nor Rotten wood,
Not any thing that shines, besides my Nose,
(And that's under a Cloud) but, Captain, you
Know the old way to your Bed.
Per.
I'l lead thee, Dear.
Joan.
Is not your Rundlet of Sack well bestow'd?
[to Gioseppe.
Gio.
Would 'twere a Hogshead for thee, old Shee-Bully.
Per.
Why com'st not on?
Dia.
Oh softly; the raw Air
Has made my Head ake, as 'twould flie to pieces,
And talking makes it worse: sweet Captain, ask
No Questions, for then I'm oblig'd to Answer;
But quietly to bed.
Per.
With all my heart.
[Exeunt Per. & Men. Gio. & Joan.
Dia.
Grand-father, you must watch the Greek Impostress.
Or else she'l carry away the Bag of Gold;
I go a Bride-groom-catching, my old Servant,
The Prince shall help me.
Fil.
And the Gold shall meet thee.
[Exeunt.
Enter Pyramena.
Py.
A woman, sure, has two Souls, the one Noble,
Th'other Base, and I've lost my Noble Soul,
Or else could Pyramena (that scorn'd life
This morning) now at night fear, like a Child,
The Bug-bear we call Death; say he should come,
Death only comes with terrour to the Happie,
To me he brings a Blessing, begg'd in vain
By thousands, which, like me, have need to die;
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But I've more need to live, that I may get
A pardon for a Sin, but little less
Than Perjury, and yet I saw it not
(Ev'n when it pull'd down ruine on my head)
So long as Spleen and Self-will blinded me,
Till Misery open'd my eyes: and now
I shall not see his face that would forgive me?
Enter Iberio in his Gorget, Arviedo following.
How I belie my Happiness! he's here;
Oh! O Iberio.
[she kneels.
Iber.
Fie, Pyramena,
Why do you kneel to me?
Py.
I must not rise,
Till you pronounce my pardon.
Iber.
For what fault?
Py.
You speak, as if I would out-face it still;
For the most foul of all faults, breach of Faith,
For passing to another Man your Right,
Your Pyramena.
Iber.
Rise, I pardon thee.
Py.
But will Iberio love me?
Iber.
As a Friend.
Py.
Not as a Wife?
Iber.
You are another's now:
You know I've forfeited my Right in you.
Py.
In my own words most justly I am answer'd.
Peace of Soul, all Delights that make Life sweet,
Be with you.
Iber.
Stay, there's something in thy Eyes
That makes thy wishes ineffectual,
Thou look'st wild.
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Why should you concern your self
How I look? do you think Æneas car'd
How Dido look'd, when she saw him Imbark?
Iber.
The Clay a Lover's made of, will not mould
A politician; I can bend my brow
No longer. 'Tis thy Wedding-night, and yet
Not Bed-time: thou art still untouch'd?
Py.
A Virgin.
Iber.
Then thou art mine, I will put in my Claim
At Rome; the Court, the Rota, must declare
Us Man and Wife, thither I'l send the Case
By the Pope's Galley, which to morrow morning
Leaves the Fleet, and Tacks off for Ostia,
To give our Holy Father an account
Of our Venetian Levies; till we have
The Judgment of the Court, we'l live in Candy.
Arv.
Talk, when you're safe out of his dangerous place.
Madam, I can fit you with a disguise.
Iber.
No, Pyramena, boldly shew your face,
For if the Porter question us I'l kill him.
Iberio draws, as he leads off Pyramena, Corbulo and Vindex enter with Fire-locks in their hands.
Cor.
The Porter stands as fair to shoot your Lordship,
Unless you yield (and presently) to mercy;
We give no quarter.
Iber.
Villain, shoot.
Py.
Hold, Soldier;
Since I see, my perfidious Crime against
This Lord, must have Expiatory blood,
Kill me.
Cor.
You shall be talkt withall anon:
Will you lay down your sword? 'tis your last Summons.
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My Sword was made for no base hand. I'l die
Thus, like a Soldier: die thou, like a Murd'rer,
Broke on the Wheel.
Py.
Hold, Oh hold! By these Tears,
By your recover'd first-love I conjure you,
Yield to your cruel Fortune, not to Them:
Yield, or they shoot me.
She runs to Iberio, stands before him, and exposes her breast for his.
Iber.
Thou art safe. There, Slaves,
[he flings down his sword.
'Tis she that has disarm'd me.
Enter Decio.
Dec.
Now, a man
May bid my Lord welcome, (without a Dance)
To's own, not his Wife's House; and loving Wife
(Whether you are his Wife, or mine) you shall
Embrace no more; bind both their arms, and bear 'em
[Cor. and Vindex bind the three Prisoners.
To th'place of Execution.
Iber.
What death?
Dec.
Such notice as thou gav'st my murder'd Sister
Of that base Robbery, when thou stol'st thy self
From her at Venice, I mean to give thee
Of the Intrigue of her Revenge. But know,
Before she di'd, I promis'd Ericina
To kill thee in the Joys of thy new Love;
Therefore when you and Pyramena quarrel'd,
I held my hand, forbore to poison you,
And from her Hatred to your Jealous Nature,
Won her to marry me or my Free humour;
Then gave you way to reconcile your selves,
That so I might get you into my power.
Go thou, and marry her in the other world.
68
Vin.
Let him; I will not stir,
Unless 't be to unbind them.
Dec.
Dar'st thou talk?
Vin.
Freelier yet; set them at Liberty,
Or I'l unriddle You: did not these hands
Bury the Body of—
Cor.
Brav'd by a Slave?
Corbulo disarms Vindex, and offers to knock out his Brains.
Dec.
Hold thy hand Corbulo: Vindex, hear thy doom,
Die; or be honest, and live rich and free.
Vin.
Life's sweet, when handsomely accommodated;
Give me my tools again, and let's to work.
Iber.
Comets, that rise and shine a while like Stars,
Will down again and stink: Slaves will be Slaves.
Dec.
See their last Draught prepar'd, as I directed.
Py.
Spit out thy Poyson now for both of us.
Dec.
I'l satisfie your longing.
Iber.
Arviedo,
Discover thy self to him; when he hears
Thy name, twill shake the bloody Butcher's Knife
Out of his hand.
Arv.
No, my Lord, I will never
Owe my life to your Murd'rer; 'tis my glory
I die with you, whose bounteous hand has kept me
Thus long alive.
Iber.
Thou hast the old Man's Soul,
Had I his Sword—
Dec.
It should save none of you;
Yet I've a private kindness for the Youth,
I'l bring him to a Priest before he dies;
But no Sword shall redeem him from these arms.
My long-mock'd Fury, like an Army's rage.
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[Exeunt.
| The Slighted Maid | |