University of Virginia Library

Actus Tertius

Scæna Prima.

Arabella sola appears sitting at a table as in her Chamber, &c.
Ar.
Loaden with cares: o'rewhelmed with misfortunes!
Can female shoulders bear my heavie crosses—
I left my native country of Siena.
To find out Marciano here at Florence:
Now have I found him: but O! how, God knowes,
And I too well percieve:—unhumane fates,
Whether, ah! whether will you hurrie me?
No end to your severity:—Ay me!
What have I done? pray let me know my crime:
As yet I plead strong innocence: unlesse
It be a crime to love: pray show my faults,
Or else suspend my paines—
Now (which is sad) I can scarce have repose
For sighs and cares: and when I once awake,
Borasco, therein my true Jaylor, waits me,
With fresh sollicitations:—thus my heart
Is rent in peeces; th'one half sorrow claimes,
The other love—Ay me! what shall I do?

weeps
Enter Strenuo
Str.
Shee's discontent already: but those newes
I bring, will make her sadder: I dare scarce
Declare them, least she swoon—Madam.

Ar.
Welcome, dear Strenuo, pray how does thy Lord?

Str.
Well, Madam,—but e're long, if fates prevent not—

Ar.
How—that again,—me thinks, thou looks not chearfull
As thou were wont,—how does my Lord, I say?

Str.
(If I dare tell you) he's condemn'd to dye.

Ar.
—To dye!—Ay me—be mercifull, and kill me
Good Strenuo, honest friend—prethee dispatch—

Str.
Stay Madam, you are mad—

Ar.
—Condemn'd to dye—
O how my heart strings, by that pin of grief,
As by an unexpert musicians hand,
Who strives to raise his Lute to highest notes,
Tun'd up above the nick begin to crack.

Str.
Forbear, fair, Lady, 'tis no time to weep,
Now wee must do; now wee must muster all
Our wits to plot his escape—

Ar.
As how—Alas fond Strenuo:—escape!
Dream not on that, rather invent some meanes,
How wee may dye together, like true lovers.

Str.
Madam, you wrong your self, I'le undertake.
By your assistance, to effect my purpose.

Ar.
By my assistance, prethee doubt not that,
What will I not do, if I can, to save him?

Str.
Then, Madam, here is aquafortis for you.
Look—this will do it, Lady, this applyed
To th'iron grate o'th window, will consume it
In a short space; then in the silent night
By help of a small rope he may escape.

Ar.
'Tis well, but all depends on th'aquafortis,
I cannot safely carry it to his chamber;
That Cerberus, that ugly cat ey'd Jaylor
Will sure discover me—

Str.
Nay, as for him,
I'le keep the villain tipling all the while
He never shall suspect you; I've provided
A souldiers habit for my Lord, in which garb
The devill himself shall never smell him out.
I'le so disguise him:—go good Madam, go
Tender my love to him, and presse him by
All meanes to use it quickly I'le wait on him
At th'hour appointed—

Ar.
I go, pray heavens, it may succeed.

Str.
Fear not.

Exeunt severally.

Scæna Secunda.

Enter Cassio and Leonardo.
Cass.

So—you intend thither again, Leonardo, you were highly
entertained, Boy.

Leon.

And I believe, Cassio, you had but small encouragment.

Cass.

Small encouragment indeed; but you must know, love is
never in it's height, so long as limitate within the sphere of reason:
I love her so much the more that she appears unreasonable, as you
call it.

Leon.

But, aside, here comes Don Quixot
and Sancho Pancho.

Enter Becabunga and Pantaloni discoursing.
Cass.

'Slid, let's accost them.

Leon.

No, let's first observe their behaviour.

Pant.

Say you so: O! I long furiously to travel.

Bec.

I mar'le you delay so long.

Pant.

Why, I vow my trunk hath been twice a ship-board for
Marseilles, and my self at Ligorn, but, I vow my mother weep'd
so, that I could not find in my heart to leave her.

Bec.

And it may be the Lady Chrysolina would not permit you.

Pant.

O—no; I know she would wait upon me some half
year, or so yet while I saw France and came back again; although
I vow, shee's a pretty, pretty, pretty Gentlewoman, as I know betwixt
me and her.

Bec.

You will have her yet, I warrand you.

Pant.

I hope so; for I am sure she loves me, or else I have no
skill.

Bec.

Does she so, and that is some encouragment though.

Cass.

Prethee let's interrupt them, enough of such discourse in
all conscience.

Leon.

Yes, now we will accost them—Gentlemen, the

general character of you in this City, hath rendred us ambitious of
your acquaintance.

Cass.

Signior Becabunga, you are are most auspiciously returned to
the City.

Bec.

Your humble servant, Sir; your extollation of me is undeserved.

Leon.

Sir, I do but what all ingenuous persons
Leon. to Pant.
should do, no question you are conscious of your
own merits.

Cass. takes Bec. aside.
Pant.

Sir, the faculty of my expression—is not capable to
entertain—as I may say—or express the motion of my affection,
to uphold—as I may say, acquaintance, familiarity with
you—I hope you understand me, Sir.

Leon.

Yes, and admires your wit too, Sir.

Pant.

Sir, I am your very humble servant; I hope I need not
back it with an oath; nam, nemo tenetur (you know) jurare in
suum detrimentum.

Cass.

Good, and what said they?

Bec.

Why, they said you were a couple of idle youths.

Leon.

How!—

Cass.

Prethee let me hear out this discourse.

Pant.

—Ho, ho, very true, I protest I think they wrong'd
you: for, for my own part, as I am Gentleman, I think you are
very civil, although I say it in your face.

Cass.

Good, and no more prethee?

Bec.

Nay, now I have not leasure, Manduco will be seeking me
through all the Town; O he will chide me, if he find me not.

Cass.

Hang him a Loggar-head.

Bec.

A Loggar-head, I would not for never so much he heard
you say that; he thinks himself no small man I'l assure you.

Adieu, Sir—Pantaloni, will you go?

Exit, Bec:

Pant.

Annon, Sir—Gentlemen, I shall be very willing and
desirous that we may entertain our present conversation willingly:
and, for my part, I have the honour to drink one cup of wine with
you. I will wait upon you at any time or place convenient, if there be
no lawfull impediment why these parties may not be joyn'd—Oh,
I crave you pardon, Gentlemen,—Lapsus linguæ non est atramentum.
Farewell.

Exit.
Leon.

Now, go thy wayes, Signior Pantaloni, thou art this day
as compleat a gull as lives in Florence, without disparagement of
any Gentleman whatsoever.

Cass.

He hath discovered all to me, Leonardo, I never read of
such humourous Ladies.

Leon.

And they will be so alwayes, while we can render them
gulls despicable in their sight.

Cass,

Let's think then how to affront them.

Leon.

I'l rack my invention, but I will set them by the ears together.

Cass.

That were good, if you can do it handsomly.

Leon.

I'l do my best; come—let's go consult upon it.

Exeunt.

Scæna Tertia.

Enter Marciano, Arabella.
Marc.
Perswade me not, I cannot but abhor
Such a preposterous attempt—

Ar.
My Lord—

Marc.
Dear soul of sweetness, do not torture me
With fruitless plots—within four dayes I die—
Should I escape and leave you prisoner—
—Think, think on that—

Ar.
You may escape, my Lord;
I have brought hither t'you, some aquafortis
Which your friend Strenuo gave me this morning;
You may apply it to the grate o'th' window—

Marc.
And what then—

Ar.
Your friend assures me 'hath a Souldiers habit
In readiness for you. This same aquafortis
Will do the business—quick, apply it quickly—
Look to your self, now it grows late, my Lord.

Marc.
May I trust this—

Ar.
You may, indeed, 'tis true.
Now, now, or never, you must soon apply it—
This night you may as easily escape.

Marc.
I'le try this trick for once—

Ar.
Fear not the Jaylor; he is fox'd already,
So Strenuo did assure me—
Apply it then, and if you don't escape—

Marc.
I'le undertake it then—leave this with me,
I'le go about it presently—mean time,
I'le cause put all in order—you must return
Within an hour hence:—and cause Strenuo
Be ready at the window—

Ar.
Fear not that.

Marc.
Farewell then.

Ar.
May my choycest prayers assist you.

Exit Marciano.
Arbella
sola.
And if this fail, what can a womans wit
Invent, that will succeed?—Alas, I fear,
Still, still, I fear, while he be safely hence.
I have us'd all means, nothing left untry'd
For his enlargement; yet could not prevail.
—O love!—who can define thee—hopes and cares,
In constant ballance; hov'ring up and down—
Here's a poor heart, within this troubled breast;
That like a malefactor at the bar,
Trembles at this design:—O powerfull love—
What hast thou not perswaded me to do—
Sings behind the arras.
—But heark, a song, I will give ear to it,
I know Borasco hath ordain'd it for me—

Song.

Ar.
A proper simile—now I see in what
Article his pulse beats:—no Syren shall
Bewitch my soul to love:—O Marciano,
How I lament thy fate: heavens lend me tears,
Since by my prodigal expence of sorrow,
I'me become banquerout: or else I beg
A period to my dayes: since certainly,
Life without love, is but calamity.

Exit weeping.

Scæna Septima.

Enter Manduco, Marionetta.
Mar.

Can he not speak for himself, Sir? he must court by
his embassadours, forsooth.

Man.

The reason is, in promptu, Madam; for the youth is
endued with pudicity: he cannot be his own buccinator, or Trumpetter

of his own fame; but he bid me assure you that he did
vehemently, imo toto corde affect you. And so it may appear by
his own manuscripts; as, exempli gratia, read the 3, page, 20th
line of that luculent Epistle of his to you, dated, 1. Cal. Martii,;
You wil find that a man cannot expresse himself more lovingly: he
calls you, enim, the prototype of all beauty, the Archetipe of modesty,
the source from whence all other rivolets of chastity do
Scaturiat, &c. Is not that amantissimum?

Mar.

No, 'tis not enough Sir.

Man.

No—why he told me, that you would not permit osculation,
and what else can he do when he is in privat with you, for
I taught him not to be loquacious—

Chrys.

Be merry, Sister, you are happy, you
are a Lady, Sister—

Enter Chrysolina hastily
Man.

A Lady!—quid sibi vult, to whom is she desponsat,
Madam?

Chrys.

The businesse is now at a close, Sister, Cassio may go
to his travells now, he dare trouble you no more, Sister.

Mar.

What d'you mean? shall I be married, and not know
to whom?

Man.

Yes, Sicuti nunc mos est, you may be collocate
Aside.
in nuptialls, before you know cui, quando, & quomodo. ia
est, to whom, how, or when.

Chrys.

Don't you know, Sister, Signior Becabunga?

Mar.

Is he the man?

Chrys.

Who else d'you think?

Man.

Ho now omnia recte again—Lady, I congratulat
the immense, ineffable felicity and secundity of your sagacious
election—

Chrys.

Hath not he been wooing you all this while? who else
should be your husband but he, pray?

Man.

Hum—

Mar.

Well I am content.

Man.

Recte—

Chrys.

Content,—marry I should willingly change conditions
with you.

Man.

Bene habet.

Chrys.

He is a good match, I'le assure you.

Man.

I can add a jurament to that.

Chrys.

Mr. Manduco, she owes much to you for it.

Man.

To me, Madam: O I am obligate to your ingenuity.

Chrys.

She does indeed, Sir:—Come, Sister, let's in, and devise
what rare fancies wee must have against the wedding, wee'll
send to the Mercers presently, and have the best Sattins, taffatas,
ribbons and such other toyes, that can be had for money, come,
come,—Farewell good Sir—honest friend Manduco,
farewell.

Mar.

Well, he may be a good husband yet for all that—

Exeunt.
Manduco
solus

Friend Manduco, saith she, notatu dignum: now am I their
friend, their amicall relation: so, this matrimony is, I may say,
now almost, very nigh, altogether consummate: for which I
expect a large honorary from both parties: O the pregnant wit of
an intelligent Scholastick! now if I can effectuat the like for Signior
Pantaloni, I shall have likewise aliquid amplius: so that I
must at length provide for a matrimoniall relation to my self: for,
although, I be quinqua genarius, or fifty years of age, yet what
Virgin in Florence will respuat me when I abound in riches, and
shall be—Dives agris, dives, positis in fœnore nummis.

Exit.

Scæna Quinta.

Enter Pantaloni with Chrysolina.
Pant.

Now, Madam, since I have got you all
alone, I protest, I must make a little bold
Embraces her.
with you—

Chrys,

How Sir!

Pant.

In civility only, I mean in civility, Madam, for I would
only ask you one question, and that's not two, videlicet, whether
or no, that is, when we may be Joyn'd in the lawfull band
of matrimony, betwixt these parties following, to wit. for you see
Becabunga has not been long a doing, he has taken your Sister to be
his lawfull spouse already, I hear, although he has been but a fortnight
a wooing of her, and yet I have been woing you one time
with another these three moneths, I wot well, and I am sure that
you love me—

Chrys.

Are you sure, Sir?

Pant.

Yes indeed, and I think there is as much reason for the
one as for the other: and to be free with you, a my conscience I
might have had a bony Gentlewoman (just such another as your
self) with twelve thousand Duckats in portion, a moneth since,
had it not been for you: consider, pray you, what you promised to
my mother last night.

Chrys.

You will allow me a time to consult with my self, Sir,
will you not?—

Pant.

That's a strange consulting! what have you been doing
ever since I see you first? I am sure you have had time enough to
consult all this while: and I'l tell you now, when your friends and
mine have agreed, there's no time to consult, but presently to be
matrimonyed; you know that as well as I now.

Chrys.

You will do well to press me no further at this time, Sir.

Pant.

I'l let you alone for once then; but, the next time I shall
come to see you, you must not consult any: for, to tell you truly,
as I heard my mother say, you may be glad of me for your husband—

Chrys.

Pray, no more, Sir.

Pant.

And then, when I have spent so much money in wooing
you, you will yet go, may be, and marry another. Fy for shame.

Chrys.

I shall not marry while I give you an answer, Sir.

Pant.

I, but as my mother sayes, it is good to be sure, if any
other man should beat me out of my stirrops now: I would come
to a peel'd egg, would not I?

Chrys.

No more of that, Sir.

Pant.

I'l refer my self to your own discretion then—but,
O!—I had almost forgot, I vow, that's very well remembred;
was not I mounted on Peg-a-sus last night? (now this Peg-a-sus
is the muses horse, he has wings and flyes, God bless us) and what
think you I have done? marry you shall hear what rare Verses I
have made. O! Madam, are you there? (Enter Mar.)
you are
come in very good time; I was just a going to read
my Verses, but you shall hear an Anagram first—
Takes out his Verses, &c.
It is a pretty thing, Madam; you can read and
write I warrand you; see you there your own name—

reads.

You see,—

Chrysolina (Anagram)
You're even like a cherry.

I'l be judg'd if that be not pretty now: for, d'you see, I have only
borrowed some four letters, or so, out of, Madam, your Sisters
name, here, because she is a nigh relation and may spare them; and
I have added two (I think) out of the quickness of my self.

Chrys.

Excellent indeed, Sir.

Mar.

Good, upon my word.

Pant.

I, but you have not seen all yet; here are brave Verses
upon your name, Madam Chrysolina.

Chrys.

An acrostick, Sir.

Pant.

I, I, an accurstick, the same. And thus it is—take
notice now.

reads.

Now I am speaking to my self, as't were.

Now there is C. H. R. Y. that is Chry.

There's S. O. now that's Chryso: now I am speaking to my self
you must understand all this while.

But, now take heed, here comes the tongue of the trump—

That's Chry-so-li-na: Now, is not that right now? say any of
you, if you dare, if these Verses be not as good as any you have seen.

Chrys., Mar.

They extream good, Sir.

Enter Boy, rounds Pant. in the ear.
Pant.

So, so, tell him I come:—Ladies, I must leave you,
but I will not go home yet: Becabunga hath sent for me to a
collation; we'l drink both your healths e're we go to bed yet, and
to morrow I shall see you e're you can get on your petticoats, Madam
Chrysolina: for, I must be more familiar with you, since I have
got such a good commodity of frequenting you—I shall show
my mother all that has past betwixt us, Madam; So farewell.

Exit.
Mar.

How d'you like him, Sister?

Chrys.

As formerly, I find him a very discreet Gentleman.

Mar.

I would you had him for your husband.

Chrys.

I should wish that same, in a fair way, Sister.

Mar.

Considering especially, 'tis best to marry while you are
now in your prime.

Chrys.

Right—for old maids are meer dogs-meat, they spoil
the trade of wooing—Go by—go by.

Exeunt.

Scæna Sexta.

Enter Marciano, Borasco.
Bor.
'Tis true, my Lord; yet, I don't much approve
Your Dukes severe proceedings: Florence will not
Endure the lash of Monarchy, like France
Or Spain:—No, they must be their own carvers.
—I hope the Lord Barbaro, who is now
President of the Senate, will reform
Many of our abuses—

Marc.
Well, you will
Come all to taste of your own vintage yet;
So I believe: for, never yet, rebellion
Escap'd unpunished:—But, you remember
You promis'd that the Lady Arabella
Might see me e're I dye.

Bor.
She shall, my Lord;
—So—by this hand, a plot,
(in going off.
A very plot: he is my Rival sure—
But shortly, Signior, you shall carry your head
Upon a Seaffold; and then, who dares
Claim her, besides my self.
Exit Bor.

Marciano
solus.
When men begin to quarrel with their Prince,
No wonder if they crush their fellow Subjects.
We are eye-sores to th'State: their black designes
Are cross'd by us; and therefore we march off.—

Enter Arabella weeping.
Marc.
Am I not yet sufficiently plagued
With crosses: but you must add one, which is
Heaviest of all,—why weeping—prethee cease
To vex thy self: I am all resolution,
And long to show my courage: since my stars
Have ordain'd my departure: rest contented.

Ar.
Alas—and is my plot thus come to nought—

Marc.
Peace, prethee, for although I am not able
To pay what your perfections claim, yet sure
All generous souls (my true executors)
Shall pay my debt, fair Nymph.

(embraces her.
Ar.
My Lord, your death can be no more couragiously
Endur'd by you, then deplor'd by me—

Marc.
Tush, as for death, I fear the varlet not,
I've often stare'd him out of countenance:
I have considered, that love to my Prince,
Should over-sway all others: have chosen
Rather t'endure one stroke, and dye, then live,
And undergo the censure (of all crymes,
The most detestable) Disloyalty.

Ar.
Ay me! incensed heavens, can nothing else,
Appease your wrath but such an offering?
O, cannot I, (speak) I, although a woman,
Supply his place: I'le be an Amazon,
Expose my naked breast to steel, and show
All women are not fetter'd to the distaffe.

Marc.
Be not so cruel: all good things forbid,
The world should see such a fair soul expire,
And not dissolve it self: thou cannot dye,
(Although thou wouldst) and Marciano live,
No, no more then a watch can move, if once
The cord be broke; can I live after thee.

Ar.
Alas, Alas, unheard of tyranny!
Unjust, even in injustice: thus to be
So cruell, as to murder him, and yet
Spare me; as much as if I should becom
My own soul murderer; villains, how unjust!
—But here's my passing bell.
(A bell rings within,
I must away—farewell—Oh, oh, my heart,
My heart dissolves, my Lord, I must away.

Marc.
Away—farewell bright love—

(embraces.
Ar.
Farewell, my Lord—

Marc.
Farewell—now all good things preserve thee here,
The gods hereafter: thus—and thus I leave
(kisses, &c.
My heart in legacy:—thus, I take my last
Morsel of pleasure: never shall my lips
Kiss any thing hereafter, save the block—

Ar.
So, thus—and thus, I willingly resign
All, what is yours, this heart: and so farewell.
Farewell for ever—oh—Farewell, my Lord.

Exit.
Marciano
solus.
—So, down goes dust and ashes, powers and honours,
Riches and joyes, the smoak of our desires,
With all we can call ours: our youth, our strength,
Fly like the sullen clouds, when Boreas swells
Their entrails with his breath: we, suddenly,
Like wilde fire, disappear, and streight another
Steps in our place; and so we are no more—
—Then heart, as thou hast still afford me courage,
Inspire me now, that I may valiantly
Act the last part of this my Tragedy.

Exit.