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Enter Laura, Lucretia, and Silvio richly drest; Antonio attending, Coming all in in haste.
Madam, you need not make such haste away, the Stranger that follow'd us from St. Peters Church, pursues us no longer, and we have now lost sight of him: Lord who wou'd have thought the approach of a handsome Cavalier should have possest Dona Laura Lucretia with fear?
I do not fear my Silvio, but I wou'd have this new Habitation which I've design'd for love, known to none but him to whom I've destin'd my heatt:—ah wou'd he know the Conquest he has made, [Aside.] Nor went I this evening to Church with any other Devotion, but that which warms my heart for my young English Cavalier, whom I hop't to have seen there, and I must finde some way to let him know my passion which is too high for souls like mine to hide.
Madam, the Cavalier's in view again, and hot in the pursuit
Lets haste away then, and Silvio do you lag behinde, 'twill give him an opportunity of Enquiring, whilst get out of sight,—be sure you conceal my Name and Quality, and tell him—any thing but truth—tell him I am La Silvianetta the young Roman Curtizan, or what you please to hide me from his knowledge.
Enter Julio and Page in Pursuit.
Boy fall you into discourse with that Page, and learn his Ladys Name—whilst I pursue her farther.
Enter Sr Harry Fillamour and Galliard.
He follows her close, whoe're they be: I see this trade of Love goes forward still.
And will whilst there's difference in Sexes. But Harry the women, the delicate Women I was speaking of?
Prethee tell me no more of thy fine Women, Frank, thou hast not been in Rome above a Month, and thou'ast been a Dozen times in Love as thou call'st it: to me there is no pleasure like Constancie.
Constancy! and woudst thou have me one of those dull Lovers who believe it their Duty to Love a Woman till her Hair and Eyes change Colour for fear of the Scandalous Name of an inconstant! No, my Passion like great Victors hates the lazy stay, but having vanquisht, prepares for new Conquests.
Which you gain as they do Towns by Fire, lose 'em even in the taking, thou wo't grow Penitent and weary of these Dangerous sollys.
But I am yet two young for both: Let old Age and infirmity bring Repentance,—there's her feeble Province, and even then too we finde no Plague like being depriv'd of dear Woman-kinde.
I hate Playing about a Flame that will consume me.
Away with your Antiquated Notions, and let's once hear sence from thee: Examine but the whole World Harry, and thou wilt sinde a Beautifull woman the desire of the Noblest, and the reward of the Bravest.
And the common Prize of Coxcombs: times are alter'd now, Frank , why else shou'd the Virtuous be cornuted, the Coward be carest, the Villain role with Six, and the Fool lye with her Ladyship.
Meer Accident Sir: and the kindness of Fortune, but a Pretty witty young Creature, such as this Silvianetta, and Euphemia, is certainly the greatest blessing this wicked World can afford us.
I believe the Lawful enjoyment of such a Woman, and honest too, wou'd be a blessing.
Lawfull enjoyment! Prethee what's lawful enjoyment, but to enioy'em according to the generous indulgent Law of Nature; enjoy'em as we do Meat, Drink, Ayr and Light, and all the rest of her common blessings;—therefore prithee dear Knight, let me govern thee but for a day, and I will shew thee such a Signiora, such a Beauty, another manner of piece then your so admired Vitterboan, Dona Marcella, of whom you boast so much.
And yet this rare piece is but a Curtizan, in course plain English, a very Whore!—
Who filthily exposes all her Beautys to him can give her most, not Love her best.
Whe faith, to thy comfort be it spoken, she does distribute her charms at that easy rate.
Oh the wast distance between an innocent passion, and a poor faithless Lust.
Innocent Passion at Rome! Oh 'tis not to be nam'd but in some Northern Climat: to be an Anchoret here, is to be an Epicure in Greenland; impossibillities Harry!
Sure thou hast been advising with Sir Signal Buffoons Governor! that formall piece of nonsense and Hipocrisie.
No faith, I brought the Humour along with me to Rome, and for your Governor I have not seen him yet, though he lodge in this same House with us, and you promis'd to bring me acquainted with long since.
I'le do't this very minute!
No, I'me oblig'd not to engage my self this Evening, because I expect the arrival of Count Julio, whose last Letters assur'd me wou'd be to night.
Julio! What the young Itallian Count you made me acquainted with last Summer in England?
The same, the Ambasadors Nephew, a good youth and one I esteem.
Enter Julio.
I hope my Page will bring intelligence who this beauty is.
Hah, Julio! Welcome dear Friend.
Sir Harry Fillamour! how glad am I to meet you in a Country where I have power to repay you all those Friendships I receiv'd when I was a stranger to yours.
Monsieur Galliard too, nay then I'me sure to want no diversion whilst I stay in Rome.
But pray, what made you leave England so soon?
E'ne the great business of Mankinde, Matrimony, I have an Uncle here who has provided me Fetters which I must put on, he says, they will be easy, I lik't the Character of my Mistress well enough, a brave Masculine Lady, a Roman of Quality, Dona Laura Lucretia, till as luck wou'd have it at my arrival this Evening, stepping into S. Peters Church, I saw a woman there that fir'd my heart, and whom I follow'd to her house; but meeting none that cou'd inform me who she was, I left my Page to make the discovery, whilst I with equal impatience came to look out you; whose sight I prefer even to a new Amour, resolving not to visit home, to which I have been a stranger this seven years, till I had kist your hands, and gain'd your promise to accompany me to Vitterbo.
Vitterbo! is that your place of Residence?
Yes; 'tis a pretty Town, and many noble Familys inhabit there, stor'd too with Beauties, at least, 'twas wont to be: have you not seen it?
Yes! and a Beauty there too lately for his repose, who has made him sigh and look so like an Ass ever since he came to Rome.
I'me glad you have so powerfull an argument to invite you back, I know she must be rare, and of quality that cou'd engage your heart.
She's both, it most unluckily fell out, that I was recommended by a Person of Quality in England to a Nobleman at Vitterbo, who being a man of a temper frank and gallant, receiv'd me with less Ceremony then is usual in Italy. I had the freedom of the House, one of the finest Villa's belonging to Vitterbo, and the pleasure to see and converse at a distance, with one of the loveliest persons in the World, a Neece of this old Counts.
Very well, and cou'd you see her but at distance, Sir?
Oh, no, 'twas all I durst desire, or she durst give; I came too late to hope; she being before promis'd in Marriage to a more happy man, the Consummation of which waits only the arival of a Brother of hers, who is now at the Court of France, and every day expected.
Enter Petro like a Barber.
Hah! Signior Petro
Come Sir, we'l take a turn in the i'th gallery, for this pimp never appears but Frances desires to be in private.
Thou wrong'st an honest ingenious fellow to call him pimp.
Ah Signior, what his worship pleases!
That thou art I'le be sworn, or what any mans worship pleases, for let me tell ye Harry, he is capacitated to oblige in any quality; for Sir, he's your brokering Jew, your Fencing, Dancing and Civillity-Master, your Linguist, your Antiquary, your Bravo, your Pathick, your Whore, your Pimp, and a thousand more Excellencies he has to supply the necessities of the wanting stranger.—Well sirrah.— What designe now upon Sir Signal and his wise Governor;—What do you represent now?
A Barber Sir.
And why a Barber, good Signior Petro?
Oh Sir, the sooner to take the heights of their judgments, it gives handsome opportunities to commend their faces, for if they are pleased with flattery, the certain sign of a fool's to be most tickled when most commended, I conclude 'em the fitter for my purpose; they already put great confidence in me, will have no Masters but of my recommending, all which I supply my self, by the help of my several disguises; by which and my industry, I doubt not but to pick up a good honest painfull livelihood, by cheating these two Reverend Coxcombs.
How the Devil got'st thou this credit with 'em?
Oh easily Sir, as knaves get estates, or fools employments.
I hope amongst all your good qualities you forgot not your more natural one of pimping.
No, I assure you Sir, I have told Sir Signal Buffoon; that no Man lives here without his Inamorata, which very word has so fir'd him, that he's resolv'd to have an Inamorata, whatever it cost him, and as in all things else I have in that too promis'd my assistance.
If you assist him no better then you have done me he may stay long enough for his Inamorato.
Why faith Sir, I lye at my young Lady night and day, but she is so loath to part with that same Maiden-head of hers yet—but to morrow night Sir ther's hopes.—
To morrow night! Oh 'tis an Age in Love! desire knows no time but the present, 'tis now I wish, and now I wou'd enjoy, a new day ought to bring a new desire.
Alas Sir I'me but an humble Bravo.
Yes thou'rt a pimp, yet want'st the art to procure a longing lover the woman he adores, tho' but a common Curtizan—Oh confound her Maidenhead—She understands her trade too well to have that badge of Innocence.
I offered her her price Sir—
Double it, give any thing, for that's the best receipt I ever found to soften womens hearts.
Well Sir, she will be this Evening in the Garden of Medices Villa, there you may get an opportunity to advance your interest— I must step and trim Mr. Tickletext, and then am at your service!
What is this Knight and his Governor who have the blessed fortune to be manag'd by this Squire?
Certain fools Galliard makes use on when he has a minde to laugh: and whom I never thought worth a visit since I came to Rome: and he's like to profit much by his Travells, who keeps company with all the English, especially the Fops.
Faith Sir, I came not abroad to return with the formallity of a Judge; and these are such anditotes against Melancholy as wou'd make thee fond of fooling.—Our Knights Father is even the first Gentleman of his House, a fellow, who having the good Fortune to be much a fool and knave, had the attendant blessing of getting an Estate of some eight thousand a year, with this Coxcomb to inherit it; who (to agrandize the Name and Family of the Buffoons) was made a Knight, but to refine throughout and make a compleat Fop, was sent abroad under the Government of one Mr. Tickletext his zealous Fathers Chaplain, as errant a block-head as a man wou'd wish to hear Preach: the Father wisely foreseeing the eminent danger that young Travellers are in of being perverted to Popery.
'Twas well consider'd.
But for the young Spark there is no description can reach him; 'tis only to be done by himself; let it suffice 'tis a pert, sawcy, conceited Animal, whom you shall just now go see, and admire, for he lodges in the house with us.
With all my heart, I never long'd more for a new acquaintance.
And in all probability shall sooner desire to be rid on't aloone.—
Draws off, and discovers Mr. Tickletext a Trimming, his hair under a Cap, a cloath before him, and Petro Snaps his fingers, takes away the Bason, and goes to wiping his face.
Tickletext and Petro.
Ah che Bella! Bella! I swear by these sparkling Eyes, and these soft Plump dimpl'd cheeks, there's not a Signiora in all Rome, cou'd she behold 'em, were able to stand their Temptations, and for La Silvianetta, my life on't she's your own.
Teze, teze, speak softly!—but honest Barberacho, do I, do I indeed look plump, and young, and fresh and—hah!
Ay Sir, as the Rosie Morn, young, as old Time in his Infancie, and plump as the Pale-fac't Moon.
He—Whe this Travelling must needs improve a Man,— Whe how admirably well spoken your very Barbers are here, —[Aside.] —but Barberacho, did the young Gentlewoman say she lik't me? did she Rogue? did she?
A doated on you Signior, doated on you.
Whe, and that's strange now, in the Autumn of my Age too, when Nature began to be impertinent, as a man may say, that a young Lady shou'd fall in love with me—[Aside.— Whe Barberacho, I do not conceive any great matter of Sin only in visiting a Lady that loves a man, hah.
Sin Sir, 'tis a frequent thing now adays in Persons of your Complexion.
Especially here at Rome too, where 'tis no Scandal.
Ay Signior, where the Ladys are Priviledg'd, and Fornication Licenc't.
Right! and when 'tis Licens'd 'tis Lawful, and when 'tis Lawful it can be no Sin: besides Barberacho, I may chance to turn her, who knows!
Turn her Signior, Alass any way, which way you please.
He he he! There thou wert knavish, I doubt—but I mean Convert her—Nothing else I profess Barberacho.
True Signior, true, she's a Lady of an easy Nature, and an
Indifferent Argument well handled will do't—ha—
[combing out his Hair.
here's your head of Hair—here's your Natural Frize! And such an
Ayr it gives the Face!—So Signior—Now you have the utmost my Art
can do.
Well Signior:—and where's your looking-glass.
My looking-glass.
Yes Signior your Looking-glass! an English Barber wou'd as soon have forgotten to have snapt his fingers, made his leg, or taken his Money, as have neglected his looking-glass.
Aye Signior, in your Countrey the Laiety have so little honesty, they are not to be trusted with the taking off your Beard unless you see't done,—but heres a Glass, Sir,
[Tick. Sets himself and smirks in the Glass, Pet. standing behinde him, making horns and grimaces, which Tick. sees in the Glass, gravely rises, turns towards Petro.
Whe how now, Barberacho, what Monstrous faces are you making there?
Ah my Belly, my Belly, Signior: ah, this Wind-Collick! this Hypocondriach does so torment me! ah—
Alass poor Knave; certo, I thought thou hadst been somewhat uncivil with me, I profess I did;
Who I Sir, uncivil?—I abuse my Patrone?—I that have almost made my self a Pimp to serve you?
Teze teze, honest Barberacho! no, no, no, all's well, all's well:—but hark y'—you will be discreet and secret in this business now, and above all things conceal the knowledge of this Gentlewoman from Sir Signall and Mr. Galliard.
The Rack Signior, the Rack shall not extort it.
Hold thy hand—there's somewhat for thee,
[gives him money.
but shall I Rogue—shall I see her to night?—
To night Sir, meet me in the Piatza D'hispagnia, about 10 a Clock,—I'le meet you there,—but 'tis fit Signior—that I should provide a Collation,—'tis the Custom here Sir.—
Well, well, what will it come to,—here's an Angel—
Whe Sir 'twill come to—about—for you wou'd do't hansomely—some twenty Crowns.—
How man, twenty Crowns?
Ay Signior, thereabouts.
Twenty Crowns—Whe 'tis a Sum, a Portion, a Revenue.
Alass Signior, 'tis nothing with her,—she'le look it out in an hour,—ah such an Eye! so sparkling, with an Amorous twire—thus Sir—then she'le kiss it out in a moment,—such a Lip, so red, so round, and so plump, so soft, and so—
Why has she, has she, Sirrah—hah—here, here, prethee take Money, here, and make no words on't—go, go your way, go— but to entertain Sir Signall with other matter, pray send his Masters to him; if thou canst help him to Masters, and me to Mistresses, thou shalt be the good Genius of us both: but see where he comes.—
Enter Sir Signall.
Hah! Signior Illustrissimo Barberacho, let me hugg thee my little Miphistophiloucho—de yee see here, how fine your Brokering Jew has made me, Segnior Rabbi Manaseth—Ben—Nebiton , and so forth; hah—View me round—
I profess 'tis as fit as if it had been made for you.
Made for me—Whe Sir, he swore to me by the old Law, that 'twas never worn but once, and that but by one high-German Prince—I have forgot his name—for the Devil can never remember these damn'd Hogan-Mogan Titles.
No matter, Sir.
Ay, but I shou'd be loth to be in any mans clothes, were he never so high a German-Prince, except I knew his name tho.
Sir, I hold his Name unnecessary to be remembred, so long as 'twas a Princely penniworth.—Barberacho get you gone, and send the Masters.
Why how now Governour! how now Signior Tickletext! prethee how cam'st thou so transmograsi'd, ha? whe thou look'st like any new-fledg'd Cupid.
Do I, away you flatter, Do I?
As I hope to breathe, your face shines through your powder'd hairs like you know what on a barn-door, in a frosty morning.
What a filthy comparison's there for a man of my coat.
What, angry—Corpo di me, I meant no harm,—Come, shall's to a Bonarcha, where thou shalt part with thy pusilage, and that of thy beard together.
How mean you Sir, a Curtizan, and a Romish Curtizan?
Now my Tuter's up, ha ha ha,—and ever is when one names a whore; be pacifi'd man, be pacifi'd, I know thou hat'st 'em worse then beads or holy-water.
Away you are such another Knight—but leave this Naughty discourse, and prepare for your Fencing and Civility-Masters, who are coming.
Ay, when Governour, when; oh how I long for my Civility-Master, that I may learn to out-complement all the dull Knights and Squires in Kent, with a Servitore Hulichimo—No signiora Bellissima , base le Mane, de vos signiora scusa mia Illustrissimo, caspeto de Bacco, and so I'le run on, hah Governor, hah! won't this be pure?
Notably Ingenious, I profess!
Well I'le send my Staffiera for him incontinente .—he, Jack— a—Cazo, what a Damn'd English name is Jack? let me see—I will call him—Giovanni, which is as much as to say John!—he Giovanni.
Sir, by your favour his English Protestant-Name is John Pepper ; and I'le call him by ne're a Popish name in Christiandom.
I'le call my own man Sir, by what name I please Sir; and let me tell you Reverend Mr. Tickletext, I scorn to be serv'd by any man who's name has not an Acho, or an Oucho, or some Italliano at the end on't—therefore Giovanni Peperacho is the name by which you shall be distinguisht and dignify'd hereafter.
Sir Signall, Sir Signall, let me tell you, that to call a man out of his name is unwarantable, for Peter is call'd Peter, and John, John, and I'le not see the poor fellow wrong'd of his name for nere a Giovanni in Rome.
Sir I tell you that one Itallian Name is worth any two English names in Europe, and I'le be judg'd by my Civility-Master.
Who shall end the dispute, if he be of my Opinion.
Multo vollentiero, which is as much as to say, with all my heart.
But Sir, my Grandmother wou'd never own me if I should change the cursen name she gave me with her own hands, an't please your Worship.
He Bestia! I'le have no more of your Worship, sirrah, that old English Sir Reverence, let me have you call me Signior Illustrissimo, or Patrona Mea—or—
I, that I like well enough now:—but hold, sure this is one of your Masters.
Enter Petro drest like a French Fencing Master.
Signior Barberacho has sent me to teach you de Art of Fencing.
Illustrissimo Signior Monsieur, I am the Person who am to learn.
Stay Sir stay,—let me ask him some few questions first, for Sir I have play'd at Back-Sword and cou'd have handled ye a weapon as well as any man of my time in the University.
Say you so Mr. Tickletext, and I'faith you shall have about with him.
Hum—hum—Mr. Monsieur—pray what are the Guards that you like best?
Monsieur, eder de Quart or de Terse, dey be both French and Itallian; den for your Parades, degagements, your advancements, your Eloynements, and Retierments: dey be de same;
Cart and Horse, what new found inventions and words have we here,—Sir I wou'd know, whether you like St. Georges Guard or not.
Alon—Monsieur, Mette vous en Guard! take de Flurette.
Nay saith and troth Governor thou shat have a Rubbers with him.
Nay certo Sir Signal,—and yet you shall prevail;—well Sir. come your ways?
Set your right foot forward, turn up your hand so—dat be de Quare—Now turn it dus—and dat be de Terse.
Hocus, Pocus, Hicksius, Doxius—here be de Cart and here be de Horse—why what's all this for, hah Sir—and where's your guard all this while?
Ay Sir where's your Guard Sir, as my Governor says, Sir, hah?
Come, come, Sir, I must instruct you I see—Come your ways Sir.—
A Tande a Tande um pew,—trust de right hand and de right leg forward together.—
I marry Sir, that's a good one indeed! what shall become of my head then Sir, what Guard have I left for that good Mr. Monsieur, hah?
Ah Morblew, is not dis for every ting?
No marry is it not Sir, St. Georges Guard is the best for your head whilst you live,—as thus Sir.—
Dat Sir, ha ha—dat be Guard for de Back-Sword.
Back-sword Sir, yes, Back-sword, what should it be else.
And dis be de Single-Rapier.
Single-Rapier with a vengeance, there's a weapon for a Gentleman indeed; is all this stir about Single-Rapier?
Single-Rapier! What will you have for de Gentleman, de Cudgell for de Gentleman?
No Sir, but I wou'd have it for de Rascally French-man who comes to abuse persons of Quality with Paltry Single-Rapier.—Single Rapier! Come Sir, come,—put your self in your Cart and your Horse as you call it, and I'le shew you the difference.
Ah Monsieur me fall run you two three times through de body, and den you break a me head, what care I for dat:—Pox on his ignorance!
Oh ho Sir, do your worst Sir, do your worst Sir.
Ah Monsieur, Monsieur, will you kill a me?
Ah Monsieur where be your Carts now and your Horse, Mr. Monsieur, hah!—and your Single-Rapier Mr. Monsieur hah!—
Why how now Mr. Tickletext, what mortal wars are these? Ajax and Vlisses contending for Achillis his Armour?
If I be not reveng'd on him, hang me:
Ay, why who the Devil wou'd have taken my Governor for so tall a man of hands, but Corpo de me Mr. Galliard, I have not seen his Fellow.
Ah Sir, time was, I wou'd have play'd ye a Match at Cudgells with e're a Sophister in the Colledge, but verily I have forgotten it, but here's an impudent French-man that wou'd have past Single-Rapier upon us.
How, nay a my word then he deserv'd to be chastis'd for't.— —but now all's at peace again; Pray know my kinsman, Sir Harry Fillamour.
Yo baco les manos Signior Illustrissimo Cavaliero ,—and yours Signiors who are Multo bien Venito;
Oh Lord Sir, you take me Sir—in such a posture Sir—as I protest I have not been seen in this many years.
Exercise is good for health Sir.
Sir Signal, you are grown a perfect Itallian? Well Mr. Tickletext you will carry him home a most accomplish't Gentleman I see!
Hum, verily Sir though I say it, for a man that never travell'd before, I think I have done reasonably well;—I'le tell you Sir—it was by my directions and advice, that he brought over with him,— two English knives, a thousand of English pins, four pair of Jersey stockings, and as many pair of Buck-skin Gloves.
Ay Sir, for good Gloves you know are very scarce comodities in this Country.
Here Sir at Rome, as you say, above all other places.
Certo meer hedging-Gloves Sir, and the clouterlest seams.—
Very right Sir,—and now he talks of Rome,—Pray Sir give me your opinion of the place?—are there not Noble buildings here? rare statues, and admirable Fountains?
Your buildings are pretty buildings, but not comparable to our University-buildings; your Fountains I confess are pretty Springs, and your statues reasonably well carv'd—but Sir, they are so ancient they are of no vallue! then your Churches are the worst that ever I saw—that ever I saw.
How Sir, the Churches, why I thought Rome had been famous throughout all Europe for fine Churches.
What think you of St. Peters Church Sir, Is it not a glorious structure?
St. Peters Church Sir, you may as well call it St. Peters Hall Sir; it has neither Pew, Pullpit, Desk, Steeple, nor Ring of Bells, and call you this a Church Sir? no Sir, I'le say that for little England, and a fig for't, for Churches, easy Pulpits [Sir Sig. speaks, and sleeping Pews,] they are as well order'd as any Churches in Christiandom: and finer Rings of Bells Sir, I'am sure were never heard.
Oh Sir there's much in what you say.
But then Sir, your Rich Altars, and excellent Pictures of the greatest Masters of the World, your delicate Musick, and Voices, make some amends for the other wants.
How Sir! tell me of your Rich Altars, your guegaws and trinkets, and Popish Foperies! with a deal of sing-song—when I say give me Sir five hundred close changes rung by a set of good Ringers, and I'le not exchange 'em for all the Anthens in Europe: and for the Pictures Sir, they are superstition, Idolatrous, and flat Popery.
I'le convince you of that errour that perswades you harmless Pictures are Idolatrous.
How Sir, how Sir, convince me, talk to me of being convinc't and that in favour of Popery; No Sir, by your favour I shall not be convinc't, convinc't quoth a—No Sir far you well an you be for convincing, come away Sir Signall, far you well Sir, far you well—convin'ct.
Ha, ha, ha, so now is my Governor gone in a Fustian-fume, well, he is ever thus when one talks of whoring and Religion, but come Sir walk in, and I'le undertake my Tutor shall beg your pardon and renounce his English ill-bred opinion; Nay, his English Churches too—all but his own Vicaridge.
I have better diversion Sir I thank you—come Julio, are you for a walk in the Garden of Medices Villa, 'tis hard by?—
I'le wait on you—
How in the Garden of Medices Villa—but harkey Galliard , will the Ladies be there, the Curtizans! the bona roba's, the inamorata's, and the Bell ingrato's hah?
Oh doubtless Sir;
I'le ene bring my Governor thither to beg his Pardon, on purpose to get an Opportunity to see the fine Women; it may be I may get a sight of my new Mistress, Dona Silvianetta whom Petro is to bring me acquainted with.
Enter Murismi and Octavio.
By Heaven I will not Eat, nor sleep, nor pray for any thing but swift and sure Revenge, till I have found Marcella, that false deceiving Beauty or her Lover, my hated Rival Fillamour! who wanton in the Arms of the fair Fugitive laughs at my shamefull easiness, and crys, these joys were never meant for tame Octavio !
Enter Crapine.
How now Crapine! What no news, no news of my Neeces yet, Marcella nor Cornelia?
None Sir.
That's wondrous strange, Rome's a place of that general Intelligence, methinks thou might'st have news of such Trivial things as women, amongst the Cardinals Rages; I'le undertake to learn the Region de stato, and present juncture of all affairs in Italy of a common Curtizan.
Sirrah sirrah, let be it your care to examine all the Nunnerys, for my own part not a petticoat shall escape me.—
My task shall be for Fillamore.
I'le only make a visit to your sister Dona Laura Lucretia, and deliver her a Letter from my Nephew Julio, and return to you presently.—
Stay Sir, defer your visit to my sister Laura, she is not yet to know of my being in Town, 'tis therefore I have taken a lodging in an obscure street, and am resolv'd never to be my self again till I've redeem'd my Honour. Come Sir, lets walk.—
Enter to them as they are going out, Marcella and Cornelia, drest like Curtizans, Philipa and attendance.
Stay, stay, what women are these?
Whores Sir, and so 'tis ten to one are all the kind, only these differ from the rest in this, they generously own their trade of sin, which others deal by stealth in: they are Curtizans.
But prethee mad Cornelia lets be grave and wise, at least enough to think a little.
On what? your English Cavalier, Fillamour, of whom you tell so many dull stories of his making Love! Oh how I hate a civil whining Coxcomb!
And so do I, I'le therefore think of him no more.
Good Lord! what a damnable wicked thing is a Virgin grown up to woman.
Why art thou such a fool, to think I love this Fillamour?
It may be not at Rome, but at Vitterbo, where men are scarce you did; and did you follow him to Rome, to tell him you cou'd Love no more?
A too forward Maid Cornelia, hurts her own fame, and that of all her sex.
Her Sex, a pretty consideration by my youth, an Oath I shall not violate this dozen year, my sex shou'd excuse me, if to preserve their fame, they expected I shou'd ruin my own quiet: in chusing an ill favourd Husband, such as Octavio before a young handsome Lover, such as you say Fillamour is.
I wou'd fain perswade my self to be of thy minde,—but the World Cornelia.—
Hang the malicious World—
And there's such charms, in wealth and Honour too!
None half so powerfull as Love, in my opinion, life Sister thou art beautifull, and hast a Fortune too, which before I wou'd lay out upon so shamefull a purchase as such a Bedfellow for life as Octavio; I wou'd turn errant keeping Curtizan, and buy my better fortune.
That word too startles me.
What Curtizan, why 'tis a Noble title and has more Votaries then Religion, there's no Merchandize like ours, that of Love my sister! —and can you be frighted with the vizor, which you your self put on.
'Twas the only disguise that cou'd secure us from the search of my Uncle and Octavio, our Brother Julio is by this too arriv'd, and I know they'l all be dilligent,—and some honour I was content to sacrifice to my eternal repose.
Spoke like my sister, a little impertinent Honour, we may chance to lose 'tis true, but our right down honesty, I perceive you are resolv'd we shall maintain through all the dangers of Love and Gallantry;—though to say truth I finde enough to do, to defend my heart against some of those Members that Nightly serinade us: and daily show themselves before our window, Gay as young Bridegrooms and as full of expectation.
But is't not wondrous, that amongst all these crowds we should not once see Fillamour, I thought the charms of a fair young Curtizan, might have oblig'd him to some curiosity at least.
Ay! and an English Cavalier too, a Nation so fond of all new Faces.
Heaven, if I should never see him, and I frequent all publique places to meet him; or if he be gone from Rome, if he have forgot me, or some other Beauty have imploy'd his thoughts!—
Whe if all these if's and or's come to pass, we have no more to do then to advance in this same glorious Profession, of which now we only seem to be:—in which to give it its due, there are a thousand satisfactions to be found, more then in a dull virtuous life! Oh the world of dark Lanthorn men we shou'd have; the Serinades, the Songs, the sighs, the Vows, the resents, the quarels, and all for a look or a smile, which you have been hitherto so covetous of, that Petro swears our Lovers begins to suspect us for some honest gilts; which by some is accounted much the lewder scandal of the two,—therefore I think faith we must ene be kinde a little, to redeem our reputations.
However we may rally, certainly there's nothing so hard to woman, as to expose her self to villainous Man.
Faith Sister, if 'twere but as easy to satisfy the nice scruples of Religion, and Honour, I should finde no great difficulty in the rest,— besides another argument I have, our money's all gone, and without a Miracle can hold out no longer honestly.—
Then we must sell our Jewels!
When they are gone, what Jewell will you part with next.
Then we must.—
What, go home to Vitterbo, ask the Old Gentleman pardon, and be receiv'd to Grace again, you to the embraces of the amiable Octavio; and I to St. Teretia's, to whistle through a Grate like a Bird in a Cage,—for I shall have little heart to sing:—but come let's leave this sad talk, here's men—let's walk and gain new Conquest, I love it dearly.—
Enter Gall. Fill. and Jul. See the Women.
Women! and by their garbo for our purpose too—they're Curtizans, lets follow 'em.
What shall we get by gazing but disquiet, if they are fair and honest, we look and perhaps may sigh in vain; if beautiful and loose, they are not worth regarding.
Dear Notional Knight, leave your satirical Foperies, and be at least good humour'd, and let's follow 'em.
I'le leave you in the pursuit, and take this opportunity, to write my Uncle word of my arrival: and wait on you here anon.
Prethee do so: hah, whose that with such an equipage?
Pox, let the Tradesmen ask, who cringe for such gay Customers, and follow us the women!
'Tis he, my Cavalier! my Conqueror: Antonio, let the Coaches wait!—and stand at distance all! Now Silvio, on thy life forget my Sex and quality, forget my useless Name of Laura Lucretia , and call me Count of—
What Madam?
Madam! ah foolish Boy? thy feminine courage will betray us all;—but—call me—Count—San's Cæure;—and tell me Silvio,
Now as I live you look all over what you wish; and such, as will beget a reverance and Envy in the men, and Passion in the women, but what's the cause of all this transformation?
Love! Love! Dull boy, cou'dst thou not guess 'twas Love? that dear Englese I must enjoy my Silvio.
But with permission, Madam, how does this change of Petticote for Britches, and shifting houses too, advance that Love?
This habit, besides many opportunities 'twill give me, of geting into his acquaintance, secures me to from being known by any of my Relations in Rome; then I have chang'd my house for one so neer to that of Silvianettas, and so like it too, that even you and I have oft mistook the entrance; by which means Love, Fortune, or chance, may with my industry contrive some kinde mistake that may make me happyer then the rest of woman kinde.
But what shall be reserv'd then for Count Julio, whose last letters promise his arrival within a day or two, and whom you're then to Marry?
But then your Brother Count Octavio, do you not fear his jealousie?
Hah, Silvianetta and Euphemia! pursu'd too by my Cavalier, I'le round the Garden, and mix my self amongst 'em,
Prethee Sister let's retire into the grove, to avoid the pursuit of these Cavaliers?
Not I, by these killing Eyes! I'le stand my ground were there a thousand, all Arm'd with Conquering Beauty?
Hah—Now on my Conscience yonders Fillamour!
Ha! Fillamour!
My courage fails me at the sight of him—I must retire.
And I'le too my Art of Love!
'Tis she, 'tis Silvianetta! Prethee advance that thou maist behold her and renounce all honest women: since in that one young sinner there are charms, that wou'd excuse even to thee all frailty;
This is too happy an opportunity, to be lost in convincing thy
singularity,—
[Gall. goes bowing by
the side of Cornelia, Fill. walks about in the Scene.
—If creatures so fair and charming, as your self had any need of
prayer, I shou'd believe by your profound attention you were at your
Evenings Devotion.
That you may finde your mistake, in the opinion of my charms, Pray believe I am so, and ought not to be interrupted.
I hope a Man may have leave to make his Devotions by you, at least, without danger or offence?
I know not that, I have reason to fear your devotion may be ominous, like a Blazing Star, it comes but seldom,—but ever threatens mischief,—Pray Heaven I snare not in the calamity:
Whe I confess Madam, my fit of zeal does not take me often, but when it does, 'tis very harmlesse and wondrous hearty.—
You may begin then, I shall not be so wicked as to disturb your Orisons.
Wou'd I cou'd be well assur'd of that, for mine's devotion of great necessity, and the blessing I pray infinitely for, conserves me; therefore in Christian Charity keep down your eyes, and do not ruine a young mans good intentions, unlesse they wou'd agree to send kinde looks, and save me the expence of prayer.
Which wou'd be better laid out you think upon some other blessing.
Whe faith 'tis good, to have a little bank upon occasion, though I hope I shall have no great need hereafter,—if the charming Silvianetta be but kinde, 'tis all I ask of Heaven.
Galliard, look there—look on that lovely woman; 'tis Marcella! the Beautifull Marcella!
Hold! Marcella! where?
That Lady there! did'st ever see her equall?
—Whe faith as you say Harry, that Lady is beautifull—and make us thankfull—kinde, whe 'tis Euphemia Sir, the very Curtizan, I wou'd have show'd you.—
Nor you rob mankinde of such a blessing, by giving it to Heaven before its time.—I tell thee 'tis a whore! a fine desirable expensive whore.
By Heaven it cannot be! I'le speak to her, and call her my Marcella, and undeceive thy leud opinion.
Do, salute her in good Company for an honest woman—do —and
spoil her markets:—'twill be a pretty civil spightful Complement,
and no doubt well taken;—come I'le convince ye Sir,
[Goes and pulls Philipa.
—Harkey thou kinde help-meet for man—thou gentle childe of
Night—What is the price of a Night or two of pleasure, with yonder
Lady—Euphemia, I mean, that Roman Curtizan.—
Oh Heavens! a Curtizan!
Sure you're a great stranger in Rome, that cannot tell her price.
I am so—Name it prethee, here's a young English purchaser—Come forward man, and cheapen for your self,—
Believe me, Madam, he knows you not, I overheard all he said to that Cavalier, and finde he's much in Love!
Not know me, and in love! punish him Heaven for falshood! but I'le contribute to deceive him on, and ruin him with perjury.
I am not yet convinc't, I'le try her farther!
[Goes to her bowing.
—but, Madam, is that Heavenly beauty purchasable? I'le pay a
heart rich with such wounds, and flames.—
Not forgetting the Money too good lad, or your wounds and flames will be of little use!
He tells you truth, Sir, we are not like the Ladies of your Country, who tire out their men with loving upon the square, heart for heart, till it becomes as dull as Matrimony, to women of our profession there's no Rethorick like ready Money, nor Billet-Doux like Bill of Exchange.
Oh! that Heaven shou'd make two persons so resembling, And yet such different souls—
Enter Octavio, with followers.
Hah, my Rival Fillamour here! fall on—draw Sir,—and say I gave you one advantage more and fought thee fairly.
Hah my Cavalier ingag'd amongst the slaves.
My Ladys Lovers! and set upon by Octavio! we must be dilligent in our affairs! Sir Signal where are ye! Signior Tickletext! I hope they have not miscarried in the fray?
Oh vot Servitor vos Signoria, miscarried, no the fool has wit enough to keep out of harms way.
Oh a blessed hearing! I'me glad of the reformation Sir, you were so squemish forsooth, that a whore wou'd not down with ye! no, 'twou'd spoil your Reputation.—
A whore! wou'd I cou'd be convinc't she were so, 'twou'd call my Virtue home and make me man again!
Thou ly'st—thou'rt as weak a Brother as the best on's, and believe me Harry, these sort of Damsells are like witches, if they once get hold of a man, he's their own till the charm be ended; you guess what that is Sir?
Oh Frank, hadst thou then felt how tenderly she prest my hand in hers; as if she wou'd have kept there for ever, it wou'd have made thee mad, stark mad in Love!—and nothing but Marcella cou'd have charm'd me;
Ay Gad, I'le warrant thee,—well thou shalt this night enjoy her.
How!
How, Whe faith Harry, ene the old way, I know no other. Whe thou shalt ly with her man! come let's to her.
Away, let's follow her instantly.
Enter Sir Sig. Tick. Petro.
Signior, I have brought Mr. Tickletext, to beg your pardon—Sir.
I've other business Sir.
Come let's follow him, and you my generous Cavalier, must give me leave to beg the Honour of your friendship.
My inclinations Sir, have given you more—pray let me wait on you to your Lodgings, lest a farther insolence shou'd be offer'd you.
Sir you oblige too fast;
Ah che Deavilo Ayles these hot-brain'd fellows, sure they're Drunk.
Oh see Signior, Drunk, for a man of Quality—'tis intollerable.
Ay: Whe how so Signior Morigoroso.
Imbriaco, had made it a fine speech indeed.
Whe faith, and so it had, as thus,—ach Deavilo Ailes these hot-brain'd fellows, sure they are imbriaco,—now wou'd not I be Drunk for a thousand Crowns: imbriacho sounds Cinqaut par cent better,—Come Noble Signior, let's Andiamo a Casa, which is as much as to say, let's amble home.—
Introth, wondrous expert—Certo Signior he's an apt Schollar
Ah Sir, you shall see, when I come to my civillities.—
Where the first less in you shall learn, is, how to give, and how to receive, with a Bon-Grace!
That receiving lesson I will learn my self;
This unfrequented part of the Garden, Signior will fit our purpose
as well as your Lodgings,—First then—Signiors your address,
[Puts himself in the
middle.
[Petro bows on both sides, they do the like.
—Very well! that's at the approach of any person of Quality: after which you must take out your Snuff-Box.Snuff-Box: whe we take no snuff Signior.
Then Sir by all means you must learn: for besides the mode and gravity of it, it inviveates the Pericranium! that is sapientiat's the brain,—that is, inspires wit, thought, invention, understanding, and the like—you conceive me Signiors—
Most profoundly Signior.—
—Then Signiors, it keeps you in confidance, and countinance! and whilst you gravely seem to take a snush, you gain time to answer to the purpose, (and in a politique posture—as thus)—to any intricate question.
Hum—corio I like that well, and 'twere admirable if a man were allow'd to take it when he's out in's Sermon.
Doubtless Signior you might, it helps the memory better then Rosemary, therefore I have brought each of you a Snuff-Box.
By no means: Excuse me Signior.
Ah Bagatells Signior, Bagatells, and now Signiors, I'le teach you
how to take it, with a handsome Grace, Signior your hand;— and yours
Signior.
[Lays snuff on their
hands.
—So now draw your hand to, and frow under your Noses, and snuff
it hard up:—Excellent well,
Methinks Signior, this snuff stinks most damnably: Pray what scent do you call this?
Cackamarda Orangate, a rare perfume I'le assure ye, Sir.
Cackamarda Orangate, and 'twere not for the Name of Cackamarda, and so forth, a man had as good have a Sir Reverence at his Nose.
Bonprovache—Signior, you do not understand it yet, bonprovache.
Whe Sir 'tis impossible to endure this same Cackamarda, Whe Assassetteda is Odoriferous to it.
'Tis your right Dulce Piquante, believe me:—but come Signiors wipe your Noses and proceed to your giving lesson.
As how Signior
Whe—present we with something—that—Diamond on your finger! to
shew the manner of giving handsomely:
[Sir Sig. gives it him.
—Oh fy, Signior—between your Finger and Thumb—thus— with
your other Fingers at a distance—with a speech, and a bow.—
Ilustrissimo Signior, the Manifold Obligations.—
Now a fine turn of your hand—thus—Oh that sets off the present, and makes it sparkle in the eyes of the receiver.—
—Which you have heap't upon me,—
There flourish again.
Obliges me to beg, your acceptance of this small present, which will receive a double Lustre from your fair hand.
Now kiss your fingers ends, and retire back with a bow:
—Most admirably perform'd.
Nay Sir I have docity in me, tho' I say't: come Governor let's see how you can out-do me in the Art of presenting.
Well Sir, come, your snuff-Box will serve instead of my Ring, will it not?
By no means Sir, there is such a certain Relation between a Finger and a Ring, that no present becomes either the giving or the receiving hand half so well.
Whe 'twill be restor'd again, 'tis but to practice by.
Ay Signior, the next thing you are to learn is to receive.
Most worthy Signior, I have so Exhausted the Cornucopia of your favours, [Flourishes]—and tasted so plenteously of the fullnesse of your Bounteous Liberallity, that to retalliate with this small Jem—is but to offer a spark, where I have received a beam of superabundant sun-shine.—
Most Rhetorically perform'd, as I hope to breath, Tropes and fugers all over.
Oh Lord, Sir Signal.
Excellent—Now let's see if you can refuse, as civilly as you gave, which is by an Obstinate denial; stand both together,— —Ilustrious Signiors, upon my honour my little merrit has not intitled me to the Glory of so splendid an offering; Trophes worthy to be laid only at your Magnanimous feet.
Ah Signior, No No,
Signior Tickletext.
Nay certo Signior!—
With what confidence can I receive so rich a present: Signior Tickletext, ah—Signior.—
I vow Signior—I'me ashamed you shou'd offer it.
In verity, and so am I.
Pardio! Baccus, most incomparable.—
But when Signior are we to learn to receive again.—
Oh Sir that's always a lesson of it self:—but now Signiors, I'le teach you how to Act a story.
How! how Signior to Act a story?
Ay Sir, No matter for words or sense, so the body perform its part well.
How, tell a story without words, whe this were an excellent devise for Mr. Tickletext, when he's to hold forth to the Congregation, and has lost his Sermon-Notes—whe this is wonderfull.—
Oh Sir, I have taught it men born deaf, and blinde,—look ye stand
close together, and observe—closer yet:
[Get's betweem 'em.
—a certain Eclejastio, Plump, and Rich—
[Makes a signe of being
fat.
Riding along the Rode,—meets a
[Galloping about the
Stage.
Paver strapiao,—un Pavero strapiao, Paure strapiao:—strapiao
—strapiao—strapiao:—
[Puts himself into the
Posture of a lean Beggar; his hands right down by his sides,—and
picks both their Pockets.
Elemosuna per un Paure strapiao, par a Moure de Dievos—at last
he begs a Julio—Neinte [Makes the fat Bishop] —then the
Paure strapiao begs a Mezo Julio—[lean] Neinte [fat]
—une bacio—[lean]—Niente—[fat]—at last he begs
his Blessing—and see how willingly the Eclesiastico gave his
Benediction;
[Opening his Arms hits
them both them both in the face.
—Scusa scusa mea Patrona's—
Yes very willingly, which by the way he had never done had it been worth a farthing.
Marry I wou'd he had been a little sparing of that too, at this time,—[sneezes] a shame on't, it has stur'd this same Cackamerda again most foully.
Your pardon Signior,—but come Sir Signall—let's see how you will make this silent relation—Come stand between us two—
Nay let me alone for a memory—come.
I think I have reveng'd my Backsword-beating.
Un paureo strapado—plump and rich—no, no, the Ecclesiastico meets un paureo strapado—and begs a Julio.
Oh no Sir, the strapado begs the Julio.
Ay, ay, and the Eclesastico crys Niente—
[snaps his nail.
un meze Julio!—Niente—un Bacoi, Niente, your blessing then
Signior Ecclesastico
Adds me, you are all a little too liberal of this same benediction.
Hah—but where's Signior Morigoroso? what is he gone? —but now I think on't 'tis a point of good manners to go without taking leave.
It may be so, but I wish I had my Ring again, I do not like the giving lesson without the taking one, whe this is picking a mans pocket certo.
Not so Governor, for then I had had a considerable losse: look ye here,—how—[feeling in his Pocket] how—[in another] how—gone? gone as I live! my money Governor! all the Gold Barberacho receiv'd of my Marchant to day—all gone.—
Hah—and mine—all my stock, the money which I thought to have made a present to the Gentlewoman, Barberacho was to bring me too—[aside]—undone undone—Villains, Cutpurses—Cheats, oh run after him.
A Pox of all silent stories: Rogue, Thief—undone.—
Enter Julio and his Page.
How! the Lady whom I followed from St. Peters Church a Curtizan?
A Curtizan my Lord, fair as the Morning, and as young.
I know she's fair and young, but is she to be had boy?
My Lord she is—her Footman told me, she was a Zittella.
How a Zittella!—a Virgin, 'tis impossible.
I cannot swear it Sir, but so he told me? he said she had a world of Lovers: her Name is Silvianetta Sir, and her Lodgings—
I know't, are on the Corso; a Curtizan! and a Zittella too? a pretty contradiction! but I'le bate her the last, so I might enjoy her as the first, what ere the price be, I'me resolv'd upon the adventure; and will this minute prepare my self. [Going off, enters Mur. and Octa. —hah—does the light deceive me, oris that indeed my Uncle, in earnest conference with a Cavalier:—'tis he—I'le step aside till he's past, lest he hinders this Nights diversion:
I say 'twas rashly done, to fight him unexamin'd.
I need not ask, my reason has inform'd me, and I'me convinc't where ere he has conceald her, that she is fled with Fillamour.
Who is't they speak of?
Well well, sure my Ancestors committed some horrid crime, against Nature, that she sent this Pest of woman-kind into our Family, —two Neeces for my share,—by Heaven a proportion sufficient to undo six Generations.
Hah! two Neeces, what of them?
I am like to give a blessed account of 'em to their Brother Julio my Nephew, at his return, there's a new plague now,—but my comfort is I shall be mad and there's an end on't.
My curiosity must be satisfied,—have patience, Noble Sir,—
Patience is a flatterer Sir,—and an Ass Sir, and I'le have none on't—hah what art thou?
Has five or six years, made ye lose the remembrance of your Nephew—Julio!
Julio! wou'd I had met thee going to thy Grave.
Why so Sir?
Your sisters Sir, your sisters are both gone.—
How gone Sir?
Run away Sir, flown Sir.
Heavens! which way?
Nay, who can tell the ways of sickle women,—in short Sir, your sister Marcella was to have been Married, to this Noble Gentleman,—Nay was contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel, but no sooner was his back turn'd,—but in a pernicious Moon-light Night she shews me a fair pair of heels, with the young Baggage your other sister Cornelia, who was just come from the Monastery where I bred her, to see her sister married.
This fine gay thing came in your sisters way, and made that conquest Nature meant such fools for: and Sir she's fled with him.
And if you want,—here's another Sir,—that though it be not often drawn in anger, nor cares to be, shall not be idle in good company.
I thank ye both, and if I have occasion, will borrow their assistance, but I must leave you for a minute, I'le wait on you anon.—
Whe my Friend here, and I have sent and paid our Fine for a small Tenement of pleasure, and I'me for taking present possession; —but hold—if you shou'd be a Rivall after all!
Ah for a fine young whore, with all these charms! but that same quality allays the joy, there's such a dam'd ado with the Obligation, that half the pleasures lost in Ceremony,
—But come to our business, I have given order for Musick, Dark Lanthorns, and Pistolls.
Oh if that be all, doubt not Harry but an hours conversation with Euphemia, will convert it to as lewd a flame, as a man wou'd wish.
What a coyles here about a Curtizan! what ado to perswade a man to a blessing all Rome is languishing for in vain:—Come Sir, we must deal with him, as Physitians do with peevish children, force him to take what will cure him!
And like those dam'd Physitians, kill me for want of method, no, I know my own distemper best, and your applications will make me mad.
Pox on't, that one cannot love a woman like a man, but one must love like an Ass.
S'hart, I'le be bound to ly with all the women in Rome, with less ado then you are brought to one.
Hear ye that Henry, s'death art not asham'd to be instructed by one so young!—but see—the star there appears,—the star that conduct thee to the shore of bliss—
May I hope my sacrifice! may be accepted by you?—by Heaven it must be she! still she appears more like.—
'Tis she, Donna Marcella on my life, with the young wild Cornelia!—hah—yonders the English Cavalier too, nay then by this hand I'le be paid for all my fruitless jants: for this good news—stay let me mark the House.—
Now to my disguise!
And have you no kinde message to send to my heart; cannot this good Example, instruct you how to make me happy?
Faith stranger I must consider first, she's skillfull in the Marchandize of hearts, and has dealt in Love with so good success hitherto, she may lose on venture, and never miss it in her stock, but this is my first, and shou'd it prove to be a bad bargain, I were undone for ever.
I dare secure the goods sound,—
And I believe will not ly long upon my hands.
Faith, that's according as you'l dispose on't Madam,—for let me tell you—gad a good handsome proper fellow, is as staple a commodity as any's in the Nation,—but I wou'd be reserv'd for your own use! faith take a sample to Night, and as you like it, the whole peece, and that's fair and honest dealing I think, or the Devils in't.
Ah stranger,—you have been so over-liberal of those same samples of yours, that I doubt they have spoild the sale of the rest,— cou'd you not afford think ye, to throw in a little Love and constancy; to inch out that want of honesty of yours.
Silvianetta! so, that's the Name she has rifl'd for Cornelia P, perceive.
If I shou'd be so kind-hearted! what good use wou'd you make of so obliging an opportunity?
That which the happy Night was first ordain'd for.
Well Signior 'tis coming on, and then I'le try what courage the darkness will inspire me with:—till then—farwell.—
Till then a thousand times adieu.—
Ah Madam we're undone,—yonders Crapine your Uncles Vallet.—
Now a curse on him; shall we not have one Night with out Cavaliers—let's retire, and continue to out-wit him, or never more pretend to't, Adieu Signior Cavalier—remember Night.—
Enter Marcella like a Man, with a Cloak about her.
What is't that checks the joy, that shou'd surprize me at the receipt of this!
Virtue! s'death thou art always fumbling, upon that dull string that makes no Musick:—What Letters that? [reads.] If the first Confession I ever made of Love be gratefull to you, come arm'd to night with a friend or too; and behinde the Garden of the Fountains, you will receive—hah Marcella!—Oh damn it, from your honest woman!—Well I see the devil's never so busy with a man, as when he has resolv'd upon any goodness! s'death what a rubs here in a fair cast,—how is't man Alegremente! bear up, defy him and all's his works.
But I have sworn, sworn that I lov'd Marcella! and Honour Friend obliges me to go, take her away and marry her, —And I conjure thee to assist me too.
What to night, this Night, that I have given to Silvianetta! and you have promis'd to the fair—Euphemia!
'Tis true, I gave my promise to Euphemia! but that to women of her trade, is easily absolv'd.
Men keep not Oaths for the sakes of the wise Magistrates, to whom they're made, but their own Honour Harry: And is't not much a greater crime to Rob a Gallant, hospitable man of his Neece, who has treated you with Confidence, and Friendship, then to keep touch with a well meaning whore, my Consciencious friend!
Iufinite degrees Sir!
Besides, thou'st an hour or two good, between this and the time requir'd to meet Marcella.
Which an industrious Lover, wou'd manage to the best advantage.
That were not given over to Virtue, and constancy—two the best excuses I know for idlenesse.
Stay what farce is this,—prethee let's see a little. [offering
to go
[Enter Sir Signal, Mr.
Tickletext, with his Cloke ty'd about him, a great Ink-horn ty'd at
his Girdle, and a great Folio under his Arm, Petro drest like an
Antiquary.
—How Now Mr. Tickletext, what drest as if you were going
a Pillgrimage to Jerusalem.
I make no such prophane Journeys, Sir.
But where have you been Mr. Tickletext.
Whe Sir, this most Reverend and Renowned Antiquary has been showing us Monimental Rarities and Antiquities.
'Tis Petro that—Rogue!
—But what Folio have you gotten there Sir, Knox, or Cartwright?
Nay if he be got into that heap of Nonsense, I'le steal oft and undress.
A small Vollum Sir, into which I transcribe the most memorable and remarkable transactions of the day.
That doubtless must be worth seeing.
April the Twentieth, arose a very great storm of Wind, Thunder, Lightning, and Rain,—which was a shrew'd sign of foul weather.
The 22th. 9 of our 12 chikens getting loose, flew over-bord, the other three miraculous escaping, by being eaten by me, that Morning for breakfast.
Harkey Galliard—thou art my Friend, and 'tis not like a man of Honour, to conceal any thing from on's Friend,—know then I am the most fortunate Rascall, that ever broke bread,—I am this Night to visit sirra—the finest, the most delicious young Harlot, Mum —under the Rose—in all Rome! of Barberacho's acquaintance.
—Hah—my woman on my life! and will she be kind!
Kind, hang kindnesse man, I'me resolv'd upon conquest by parly or by force.
Spoke like a Roman of the first Race, when Noble Rapes not whining Courtship, did the Lovers business.
Sha Rapes man! I mean by force of mony, pure dint of Gold faith and troth: for I have given 500 Crowns enterance already, & Par Dios Baccus 'tis tropo Caro—tropo Caro Mr. Galliard.
And what's this high priz'd Ladys Name Sir?
La Silvianetta,—and Lodges on the Corso, not far from St. James's of the incurables—very well scituated in case disaster—hah.—
Very well,—and did not your wise worship know, this Silvianetta was my Mistress?
How! his Mistress! what a damn'd noddy was I to name her!
De ye hear fool! renounce me this woman instantly, or I'le first discover it to your Governor, and then cut your throat Sir.
Oh Doux Ment—dear Galliard—Renounce her,—Corpo demi that I will soul and body if she belong to thee man.—
No more—look to't,—look you forget her Name—or but to think of her—farewell—
Fare well quoth ye—'tis well I had the Art of dissembling after all, here had been a sweet Broyl upon the Coast else.—
Very well, I'le trouble my self to reade no more, since I know you'l be so kinde to the world to make it publique?
At my return Sir, for the good of the Nation, I will Print it, and I think it will deserve it.
This is a precious Rogue, to make a Tutor of.
Yet these Mooncalfs, dare pretend to the breeding of our youth, and the time will come, I fear, when none shall be reputed to travel like a man of quality, who has not the advantage of being impos'd upon, by one of these Pedantique Novices, who instructs the young heir, in what himself is most profoundly ignorant of.
Come, 'tis dark and time for our design,—your servant Signiors.
I'le home, and watch the kind deceiving minute, that may conduct him by mistake to me.
Enter Petro, like Barberacho, just as Tick. and Sir Sig. are going out.
Oh Barberacho! we are undone! Oh the Diavillo take that Master you sent me.
Master, what Master?
Whe Signior Morigoroso!
Mor—oso—what shou'd he be?
A Civillity-Master he shou'd have been, to have taught us good manners,—but the Cornuto cheated us most damnably, and by a willing mistake taught us nothing in the world but wit.
Oh abominable knavery! whe what a kinde of man was he?—
—whe—much such another as your self:—
Higher, Signior, higher!
Aye somewhat higher—but just of his pitch.
Well Sir, and what of this man?
Only pick't our pockets, that's all.
Yes, and cozen'd us of our Rings.
Ay, and gave us Cackamarda Orangata for snuff.
And his blessing to boot when he had done.
A veng'ance on't, I feel it still.
Whe this 'tis to do things of your own heads, for I sent no such Signior Moroso—but I'le see what I can do to retrive 'm—I am now a little in haste, farwell.—
Remember to meet me—farewell Barberacho.
Barberacho—is the Lady ready?
Is your money ready?
Whe now, tho I am threatned, and kill'd, and beaten, and kickt about, this intrigue I must advance! [aside]—but dost think there's no danger?
What in a delicate young amorous Lady, Signior?
No, No, mum, I don't much fear the Lady, but this same mad fellow Galliard, I hear, has a kinde of a hankering after her— Now dare not I tell him what a discovery I have made.
Let me alone to secure you, meet me in the Piatzo Despagnia, as soon as you can get your self in order; where the two fools shall meet, and prevent eithers coming.
Enough,—here's a Bill for 500 Crowns more upon my Merchant, you
know him by a good token, I lost the last sum you receiv'd for me, a
pox of that handsell, away here's company.
Ex. Pet. Enter Octavio.
Now will I disguise my self, according to the mode of the Roman
Inamorato's; and deliver my self upon the place appointed.
On the Corso didst thou see 'em?
On the Corso my Lord, in discourse with three Cavaliers, one of which has given me many a Pistol, to let him into the Garden a Nights at Vitterbo: to talk with Dona Marcella, from her Chamber window, I think I shou'd remember him.
Oh that thought fires me, with anger fit for my Revenge, [Aside. And they're to Serinade 'em thou say'st.
I did my Lord! and if you can have patience till they come, you will finde your Rival in this very place, if he keep his word.
I do believe thee, and have prepared my Bravos to attack him: if I can Act but my Revenge to Night, how shall I worship Fortune! keep out of sight, and when I give the word be ready all. I hear some coming let's walk off a little—
Thou canst never convince me, but if Crapine saw us, and gaz'd so long upon us, he must know us too, and then what hinders but by a dilligent watch about the House, they will surprize us, ere we have secured our selves from 'em.
And how will this, exposing your self to danger prevent 'em.
My designe now is, to prevent Fillamours coming into danger, by hindring his approach to this house: I wou'd preserve the kinde ingrate with any hazard of my own: and 'tis better to dye then fall into the hands of Octavio. I'me desperate with that thought, —and fear no danger! however be you ready at the door, and when I ring admit me.—ha—who comes here.—
A man! now am I though an old sinner, as timerous as a young thief, 'tis a great inconvenience in these Popish Countrys, that a man cannot have liberty to steal to a wench without danger; not that I need fear who sees me except Galliard, who suspecting my business, will go neer to think I am wickedly inclin'd, Sir Signal I have left hard at his study, and Sir Henry is no Nocturnal Inamorato, unless like me he dissemble it,—well Certo 'tis a wonderfull pleasure to deceive the World: And as a learned man well observ'd, that the sin of wenching lay in the habit only: I having laid that aside, Timothy Tickletext principal holder forth of the Covent Garden Conventicle, Chaplain of Buffoon-Hall in the County of Kent, is free to recreate himself.
Where the devil is this Fillamour? And the Musick: which way
cou'd he go to lose me thus!
[Looks towards the door.
—he is not yet come.—
Not yet come,—that must be Barberacho!—where are ye honest Barberacho where are ye?
Hah! Barberacho? that name I am sure is us'd by none but Sir
Signal and his Coxcomb Tutor, it must be one of those—where are
ye Signior, where are ye?
[Goes towards him, and
opens the Lanthorn —and shuts it straight.
—Oh 'tis the Knight,—are you there Signior?
Oh art thou come, honest Rascal—conduct me quickly, conduct me to the Beautifull and fair Silvianetta!
Yes, when your dogships damn'd, Silvianetta! S'death is she a whore for fools!
Hah Mr. Galliard, as the devil wou'd have it:—I'me undone if he sees me!
Where are you Fop: Buffoon! Knight!
[Tickletext retiring
hastily runs against Octavio, who is just entering, almost beats him
down, Oct. strikes him a good blow, beats him back and draws: Tick.
gets close up in a corner of the stage, Oct. gropes for him as Gall.
does, and both meet and fight with each other.
—What dare you draw,—you have the impudence to be valliant
then in the dark, [they pass] I wou'd not kill the
Rogue,—death you can fight then, when there's a woman in the case!
I hope 'tis Fillamour! [aside] you'le finde I can, and possibly may spoil your making love to Night!
Egad, sweet heart and that may be, one civil thrust will do't: —And 'twere a damn'd rude thing to disappoint so fine a woman,— therefore I'le withdraw whilst I'me well.
Well I have most neatly escapt my Tutor; and in this disguise defy the devil to claim his own,—ah Caspero de Deavilo!— What's that?
Traytor darest thou not stand my sword!
Hah! swords! no Signior—scusa mea Signior,—
Is it you Sir?
Julio! from what mistake grew all this violence?
That I shou'd ask of you, who meet you arm'd against me.
I find the Night has equally deceiv'd us; and you are fitly come! to share with me the hopes of dear Revenge!
—So! thanks be prais'd all's still again, this fright were enough to mortify any Lover of less magnanimity then my self,—well of all sins, this itch of whoring is the most hardy,—the most impudent in repulses; the most vigilant in watching, most patient in waiting, most frequent in dangers: in all disasters but disappointment, a Philosopher! yet if Barberacho come not quickly, my Philosophy will be put to't certo.
The coast is once more clear, and I may venture my carcass forth again,—though such a salutation as the last, wou'd make me very unfit for the matter in hand,—the battoon I cou'd bear with the Fortitude and courage of Hero: But these dangerous sharps I never lov'd; what different rancounters have I met withall to Night, Corpo de me; a man may more safely pass the gull of lyons, then convoy himself into a Bawdy house in Rome, but I hope all's past, and I will say with Alexander:—Vivat Esperance en despetto del Fatto.
Sure I heard a Noise,—No 'twas only my surmise!
Que Equesto.
Hah a mans voice!—I'le try if I can fright him hence!
[Aside.
Vna Malladette Spirito Incarnate!
Hah, Spiritto Incarnate! that devils voice I shou'd know!
See Signior! Vna spirito! which is to say, un spiritalo, Imortallo Incorporalla, Inanimate, Imaterialle, Philosophicale, Invisible—Vn intelligible—Diavillo!
Ay ay, 'tis my hopefull pupill! upon the same design with me, my life on't,—Cunning young whoremaster!—I'le cool your courage—good Signior Diavillo! if you be the Diavillo I have una certaina Imaterialle Invisible Conjuratione, that will so neatly lay your Inanimate unintelligible Diavilloship.—
How! he must needs be valliant indeed that dares fight with the
devil.
[Endeavours to get
away, Tick. beats him about the stage.
—Ah Signior Signior Mia! ah—Caspeto de Baccus,—he
cornuto, I am a damn'd silly devil that have no dexterity in
vanishing.
[Gropes and finds the
door—going out, meets just entring Fillamour Galliard with all the
Musick—he retires and stands close.
—Hah,—what have we here new mischief.—
Prethee how came we to lose ye?
I thought I had follow'd ye,—but'tis well we are met again, come tune your pipes,—
This must be he.
Come come, your Song boy your Song.
'Tis they we look for, draw and be ready.—
Hah draw—then there's no safty here certo.
Enter Petro with a Lanthorn. Sir Signal stands close still.
Oh undone, undone, where am I, where am I.
Hah—that's the voice of my Amorous Ananias,—or I am
mistaken—what the devil's the matter.
[Opens his Lanthorn.
—Where are ye Sir,—hah cuts so—what new found pillory have
we here?
Oh honest Barberacho undo me, undo me quickly.
So I design Sir, as fast as I can—or lose my aim—there Sir there: all's well—I have set you free, come follow me the back way, into the house.
Enter Fillamour and Marcella, with their swords drawn Gall. after 'em.
A plague upon 'em, what a quarters here for a wench, as if there were no more i'th Nation,—wou'd I'de my sword again.
Which way shall I direct him to be safer,—how is it Sir, I hope you are not hurt.
Not that I feel, what art thou asks't so kindly.
A servant to the Roman Curtizan, who sent me forth to wait your coming Sir, but finding you in danger shar'd it with you,— come let me lead you into safety Sir.—
Thou'st been too kinde to give me cause to doubt thee.
Follow me Sir, this key will give us entrance, through the Garden.
Enter Octavio with his sword in his hand.
[.....]! Oh what damn'd luck had I so poorly to be vanquish't when all is husht, I know he will return,—therefore I'le fix me here, till I become a furious statue—but I'le reach his heart.
Oh lamentivolo fato—What bloody Villains these Popish Itallians are.
Enter Julio.
Hah—I hear one coming this way— —hah—the door opens too,—and he makes towards it—pray Heaven he be the right: for this I'me sure's the House? —Now luck an't be thy will,—[Follows Julio towards the door softly.
[Enter Laura from the house in a Night gown.
'Tis Love that calls, and now Revenge must stay,—this hour is thine fond Boy, the next that is my own I'le give to anger.—
Oh ye pernicious pair,—I'le quickly change the Scene of Love into a ruffer and more unexpected entertainment.
Sure the devil raigns to Night, wou'd I were shelter'd and let him raign fire and Brimstone, for pass the streets I dare not—this shou'd be the house—or here abouts I'me sure 'tis,—hah—what's this—a string—of a Bell I hope—I'le try to enter; and if I am mistaken 'tis but crying conlicentia!
Whose there?
'Tis I, 'tis I, let me in quickly.—
Who—the English Cavalier.
The same—I am right—I see I was expected.
I'me glad you're come,—give me your hand.—
I am fortunate at last,—and therefore will say with the Famous Poet.
Enter Fillamour and Galliard, as in Silvianetta's apartment.
You see Harry, all the keeping fools are not in our dominions but this grave this wise people, are Mistress riden too.
I fear we have mistook the house, and the youth that brought us in may have deceived us, on some other design, however whilst I've this—I cannot fear.—
A good caution, and I'le stand upon my guard with this, but see—here's one will put us out of doubt.
Death! with what unconcern he hears all this? art thou possest—pox why dost not answer her?
Curse on your necessary trash!—which I despise, but as 'tis usefull to advance our Love!
Turn back—she yields, she yields to pardon thee,—gon— Nay hang me if ye part.
Gon—I have no leasure now for more dissembling.
Enter Petro, leading in Mr. Tickletext, as by dark.
Remain here Signior whilst I step and fetch a light.
Do so, do so honest Barberacho!—well my escape even now from Sir Signal was Miraculous! thanks to my prudence and prowess, had he discover'd me, my dominion had ended; and my Authority been of non effect certo.
Now Signior yo're out of danger, I'le fetch a Candle, and let my Lady know of your being here!
Enter Petro with a light, goes between 'em and starts.
Sir Signal!—
My Governor!
The two fools met! a pox of all ill luck: now shall I lose my credit with both my wise Patrons, my Knight I cou'd have put off, with a small Harlot of my own, but my Levite having seen my Lady Cornelia that is La Silvianetta,—None but that Susanna wou'd satisfy his Eldership: but now they have both sav'd me the labour of a farther invention to dispatch 'em.
I perceive my Governor's as much confounded as my self; —I'le take advantage by the forelock, be very impudent and put it upon him faith,—Ah Governor, will you never leave your whoring! never be stayd, sober and discreet as I am
So so, undone undone, just my Documents to him.—
And must I neglect my pretious studys, to follow you, in pure zeal and tender care of your person! will you never consider where you are? in a lewd Papish Country! amongst the Romish Heathens,—and for you a Governor, a Tutor, a director of unbridled youth, a Gown-man, a Polititian, for you I say to be taken at this unrighteous time of the Night, in a flaunting Cavaliero dress, an unlawful weapon by your side, going the high way to Satan to a Curtizan! and to a Romish Curtizan! Oh abomination, Oh scandalum infiniti.
Paid in my own Coyn!
So, I'le leave the devil to rebuke sin, and to my young Lady, for a little of her assistance, in the management of this affair.
—I do confess,—I grant ye I am in the house of a Curtizan, and that I came to visit a Curtizan, and do intend to visit each Night a several Curtizan:—till I have finisht my work.—
Every Night one! Oh glutton!
—My great work of Conversion,—upon the whole Nation, Generation, and Vocation, of this wicked provoking sort of womankinde; call'd Curtizans:—I will turn 'em—yes I will turn 'em,—for 'tis a shame that Man—shou'd bow down to those that worship Idols! —and now I think Sir, I have sufficiently explain'd the business in hand,—as honest Barberacho is my witness!—And for you—to— scandalize—me—with so naughty an interpretation—afflicteth me wonderfully.—
—Alas poor Mr. Tickletext, now as I hope to be sav'd it grieves my heart to see him weep,—faith and troth now, I thought thou had'st some Carnal assignation,—but nere stir I beg thy pardon and think thee as innocent as my self, that I do—but see the Ladys, here—s'life dry your Eyes man!
I cou'd beat thee for being thus mistaken,—and am resolv'd to flatter him into some mischief, to be Reveng'd on 'em for this disappointment, go you and watch for my Cavalier the while.
Is she come—Nay then turn me loose to her.—
My Cavalier!
—Lady.—
You Sir, whe who the devil made you a Cavalier,—most Potentisimo Signiora, I am the man of Title, by Name Sir Signal Buffoon, sole Son and heir to Eight Thousand pound a year.—
Oh Sir, are you the man she looks for?
I Sir, No Sir, I'de have ye to know Sir, I scorn any woman be she never so fair, unless her designe be honest and Honourable!
The man of all the World I've chosen out, from all the wits and Beauties I have seen;—to have most finely beaten!
How! in Love with me already,—she's damnable handsome too, now wou'd my Tutor were hang'd a little for an hour or two, out of the way.
Why sly you not into my Arms, [she approching, he shuning. These Arms that were design'd for soft embraces?
Ay, and if my Tutor were not here, the devil take him that wou'd hinder 'em,—and I think that's civil egad!
Whe how now Barberacho, what am I cuzend then, and is Sir Signal the Man in favour!
Lord Signior, that so wise a man as you cannot perceive her meaning; for the devil take me if I can,—[Aside.]—Whe this is done to take off all suspition from you—and lay it on him;—don't you conceive it Signior!
Yes honest Rogue,—Oh the witty wagtail,—I have a part to play too, that shall confirm it—young Gentlewoman.—
Ah bell ingrate, is't thus you recompence my suffering Love? to fly this beauty so ador'd by all, that slight the ready conquest of the world to trust a heart with you,—ah—Traditor Cruella.
Poor heart, it goes to the very soul of me to be so coy and scornfull to her that it does, but a pox on't her over-fondness will discover all.
Fly, fly, young man! whilst yet thou hast a spark of virtue shining in thee, fly the temptations of this young hypocrite; the love that she pretends with so much zeal and ardour, is indecent, unwarrantable, and unlawful! first indecent as she is woman—for thou art woman—and beautiful woman—yes, very beautifull woman! on whom nature hath shew'd her heighth of excellence in the out-work, but left the in unfinisht, imperfect and impure.
Heavens, what have we here!
A pox of my Sir Dominie, Now is he beside his Text, and will spoil all.
Secondly, Unwarrantable; by what authority dost thou seduce with the allurements of thine eyes, and the conjurements of thy tongue, the waftings of thy hands, and the tinklings of thy feet, the young men in the Villages?
Sirrah! how got this madman in? seize him, and take him hence.
Corpo de mi my Governour tickles her notably i'faith—but had he let the care of my soul alone to night, and have let me taken care of my body, 'twould have been more material at this time.
Thirdly, Unlawful—
Quite distracted! in pity take him hence, and leade him into darknesse, 'twill sute his madness best.
How, distracted! take him hence!
This was lucky—I knew she wou'd come again—take him hence—yes; into her bed-chamber—pretty device to get you to herself Signior.
Why but is it—nay, then I will facillitate my departure— therefore I say—oh most beautiful and tempting woman—
Hold, hold man, Mad said ye—ha, ha, ha—mad! whe we have a thousand of these in England that go loose about the streets, and pass with us for as sober discreet religious persons—
To rid him hence that she may be alone with you—'slife Sir, you're madder then he—don't you conceive—
Ay, ay! nay, I confesse, Illustrissima Signiora, my Governour has a Fit that takes him now and then, a kinde of a frenzy,— a figary—a whimsie—a maggot that bites always at naming of Popery:— so—he's gone.—Bellissimo Signiora,—you have most artificially remov'd him—and this extraordinary proof of your affection is a signe of some small kindenesse towards me, and though I was something coy and reserv'd before my Governour, Excellentissimo Signiora, let me tell you, your love is not cast away.
Oh Sir you blesse too fast! but will you ever love me—
Love thee! I and lie with thee too, Most Magnanimous Signiora, and beget a whole Race of Roman Julius Cæsars upon thee; nay, now we're alone, turn me loose to impudence, i'faith.
Oh Madam here's the young mad English Cavalier got into the house, and will not be deny'd seeing you.
This was lucky!
How the mad English Cavalier! If this shou'd be our young Count Galliard now—I were in a sweet taking—oh I know by my fears 'tis he; oh prethee what kinde of a manner of man is he?
A handsome—resolute—brave—bold—
Oh enough enough—Madam—I'le take my leave—I see you are—something busie at present,—and I'le—
Not for the World,—Philipa—bring in the Cavalier—that you may, see there's none here fears him Signior.
Oh hold hold,—Madam you are mistaken in that point, for to tell you the truth, I do fear,—having—a certain—aversion or Antipathy,—to—Madam—a Gentleman—whe Madam they're the very Monsters of the Nation, they devour every day a Virgin.—
Good Heavens! and is he such a Fury!
Oh and the veryest Belzebub,—besides Madam he vow'd my Death, if
ever he catch me neer this house, and he ever keeps his word in cases
of this Nature,—Oh that's he,
[Knocking at the door
I know it by a certain trembling instinct about me,—Oh what
shall I do.—
Whe—I know not,—can you leap a high window?
—He knocks again,—I protest I'me the worst Vaulter in Christendom,—have ye no moderate danger,—between the two extreams of the window or the mad Count? no Closet,—fear has dwindl'd me to the scantling of a Mousehole.
—Let me see,—I have no leasure to pursue my Revenge farther,
and will rest satisfy'd with this,—for this time—
[Aside.
—Give me the Candle,—and whilst Philipa is conducting
the Cavalier to the Alcove by dark,—you may have an
opportunity to slip out, —perhaps there may be danger in his being
seen,—
[Aside.
—farewell fool.—
Pox on't my Knights bound for Vitterbo, and there's no perswading him into safe harbour again,—he has given me but two hours to dispatch matters here,—and then I'me to imbark with him upon this new discovery of honourable Love, as he calls it, whose adventurers are fools, and the returning Cargo, that dead Commodity. call'd a wife! a Voyage very sutable to my humour,—who's there?—
A Slave of Silvianetta's, Sir give me your hand.—
Now Signior you're safe and happy; in the Bed-Chamber of your Mistress.—who will be here immediately I'me sure, I'le fetch a light and put you to bed in the meantime.—
Not before supper I hope honest Barberacho!
Oh Signior that you shall do lying, after the manner of the Ancient Romans.
Certo, and that was a marevllous good lazy custome.
Enter Philipa with Galliard by dark.—
My Lady will be with you instantly.—
Hah, sure I heard some body come softly in at the door: I hope 'tis the young Gentlewoman!
Hah—art thou come my life! my soul! my joy!—
[Goes to embrace, Tick.
they meet and kiss.
—S'death what's this a bearded Mistress! Lights lights there,
quickly lights,—Nay curse me if thou scap'st me.—
Barberacho,—confound him 'tis the fool! whom I found this Evening about the House, hovering to roost him here!—hah—what the devil have I caught—a Tarter? Escap't again! the devil's his confederate.—
Give me your hand, I'le leade you a back pair of stairs through the Garden.
Oh any way to save my Reputation—oh—
Let me but once more grasp thee, and thou shalt finde more safety in the Devils clutches! none but my Mistress serve ye.
Enter Philipa with a light.
Mercy upon us, what's the matter—what noise is this—hah a Pistol—what can this mean?
Oh save me, gentle devil, save me, the stairs are fortify'd witk Canons and double Culverins; I'me pursu'd by a whole Regiment of arm'd men! here's gold, gold in abundance! save me—
What Canons? what arm'd men?
Finding my self pursu'd as I was groping my way through the Hall, and not being able to finde the door, I made towards the stairs again, at the foot of which I was saluted with a great gaun— a pox of the courtesie.
Where are ye Knight, buffoon, dog of Egypt?
Thunder and Lightning? 'tis Galliards voice—
Here, step behinde this hanging—there's a Chimney which may shelter ye till the storm be over,—if you be not smother'd before.
Deceiver Sir, of whom—in what despairing minute did I swear to be a constant Mistress? to what dull whining Lover did I vow and had the heart to break it.
Or if thou hadst, I know of no such dog as wou'd believe thee; no, thou art false to thy own charms, and hast betray'd 'em
A fool, what indiscretion have you seen in me, shou'd make ye think I wou'd choose a witty man for a lover, who perhaps loves out his moneth in pure good husbandry, and in that time does more mischief then a hundred fools; ye conquer without resistance, ye treat without pity, and triumph without mercy; and when you're gone, the world crys—she had not wit enough to keep him, when indeed you are not fool enough to be kept! thus we forfeit both our Liberties and discretion with you villanous witty men; for wisedom is but good success in things, and those that sail are fools!
Oh necessary Maxims only, and the first Politiques we learn from observation—I've known a Curtezan grown infamous, despis'd, decay'd, and ruin'd, in the possession of you witty men, who when she had the luck to break her chains, and cast her net for fools, has liv'd in state, finer then Brides upon their wedding-day, and more profuse then the young amorous Coxcomb that set her up an idoll.
Soul, what a pox care I for Soul,—as long as my person is so Amiable.—
I grant ye,—had I talk't sense to him,—which had been enough to have lost him for ever.
Poor Devil, how fearfull 'tis of losing me!
That's some atonement for thy other sins,—come break thy word and wash it quite away.
That cogging won't do my good friend, that won't do.
Thou shalt be just and perjur'd, and pay my heart the debt of Love you owe it.
And wou'd you have the heart—to make a whore of me?
With all my Soul, and the Devils in't if I can give thee a greater proof of my passion.
I rather fear you wou'd deboch me, into that dull slave call'd a wife:
Nay then I am in earnest,—hold mistaken stranger!—I am of Noble birth! and shou'd I in one hapless loving minute, destroy the Honour of my House, ruin my youth and Beauty! and all that virtuous Education, my hoping parents gave me?
Pretty dissembl'd pride and innocence! and wounds no less then smiles!—come let us in,—where I will give thee leave to frown and Jilt, such pretty frauds advance the appetite.
By all my wishes I never held discourse with you—but this Evening since I first saw your face!
Heavens! this is Impudence, that power I call to witness too how damnably thou injur'st me;
You never from your Window talk't of love to me?
Never.
So, nor you're no Curtizan;
No by my life!
So, nor do intend to be, by all that's good;
By all that's good never.
So,—and you are reall honest, and of quallity?
Or may I still be wretched!
So, then farewell honesty and quality!—S'death what a night, what hopes, and what a Mistriss; have I all lost for honesty and quallity!
To cheat me of my heart the readyest way! And now like Gaming Rooks, unwilling to give o're till you have hook't in my last stake my body too, you couzen me with honesty,— oh Damn the dice—I'le have no more on't I, the game's too deep for me! unless you play'd upon the square, Or I cou'd cheat like you— farewell Quallity!—
—Now a my Conscience there never came good of this troublesome virtue—hang't I was too serious, but a Devil on't he looks so Charmingly—and was so very pressing I durst trust my gay Humour and good Nature no farther!
He's gone!—so—ha ha ha— as I hope to breath Madam, you have most neatly dispatcht him; poor fool—to compare his wit and his person to mine.—
How! not know me? now might I pass upon him most daintily for a Devil, but that I have been beaten out of one Devilship already, and dare venture no more Conjurationing.
Dog, what art thou—not speak! Nay then I'le inform my self, and try if you be flesh and blood.
No matter for all this—'tis better to be kick't then discovered, for then I shall be kill'd!—and I can sacrifice a limb or two to my reputation at any time!
Death, 'tis the fool, the fool for whom I am abus'd and jilted, 'tis some revenge to disappoint her cunning, and drive the slave before me—Dog! were you her last reserve.—
The sop of business with the lazy Gown-man—the learned Asse with the Illiterate wit. The empty coxcombe with the Pollititian, as Dull and insignificant as he; from the gay fool made more a beast by fortune to all the loath'd infirmities of Age! —Farewell—I scorn to crowd with the dull Herd! Or graze upon the common where they batten—
—By all that's good I love him more each
[Enter Marcella.
moment, and know he's destin'd to be mine.— —What hopes
Marcella, what i'st we next shall do?
Fly to our last reserve, come let's haste and dress! in that disguise we took our flight from Vitterbo in,—and somthing—I resolve!
My soul informs me what!—I ha't! a project worthy of us both—Which whilst we dress I'le tell thee,—and by which
Enter Petro, Tickletext, from the Garden.
Haste honest Barberacho, before the day discover us to the wicked world, and that more wicked Galliard!
Well Signior, of a bad turn 'twas a good one, that he took you for Sir Signal! the scandal lys at his door now Sir,—so the Ladders fast, you may now mount and away.—
Very well go your ways, and commend me honest Barberacho to the young Gentlewoman! and let her know as soon as I may be certain to run no hazard in my Reputation, I'le visit her again!
I'le warrant ye Signior for the future!
So, now get you gone lest we be discover'd!
Farewell Signior, a bon viage.
'Tis marvellous dark, and I have lost my Lanthorn in the fray!
[Groping]—hah—where abouts am I—hum—what have we here!
—ah help help help!
[stumbles at the Well,
gets hold of the rope and slides down in the Bucket.
I shall be drown'd, fire! fire, fire, for I have water enough! Oh
for some house,—some street, nay wou'd Rome it self were a
second time in flames, that my deliverance might be wrought by the
necessity for water,—but no human help is nigh—oh.
Did ever any Knight adventurer, run through so many disasters in
one Night! my worshipful carkass has been cudgel'd most plentifully,
first bang'd for a coward, which by the way was none of my fault, I
cannot help Nature! then clawd away for a Diavillo! there I was
the fool! but who can help that too! frighted with Gall's coming
into an Ague, then chimney'd into a Feavor, where I had a fine regale
of foot, a perfume which nothing but my Cacamarda Orangate
cou'd excell! and which I finde by—[snufs] my smelling has
defac'd Natures Image, and a second time made me be suspected for a
devil!— let me see,—
[Opens his Lanthorn and
looks on his hands.
—'tis so—I am in a clenly pickle! if my face be of the same
peice, I am fit to scare away old Belzebub himselfe faith:
[Wipes his face.
—Ay—'tis so—like to like quoth the devil to the Collier!
well I'le home, scrub my self clean if possible, get me to bed, devise
a handsome lye to excuse my long stay to my Governor and all's well,
and the man has his Mare again!
[shuts his Lanthorn and
gropes away, runs against the Well.
—que questo [feels gently.] make me thankfull 'tis
substantial wood! by your leave—
[Opens his Lanthorn.
how! a Well! sent by providence that I may wash my self, lest
people smoke me by the scent, and beat me anew for stinking:
[sets down his
Lanthorn, pulls of his Masking coat, and goes to draw water.
'Tis a damnable heavy Bucket, now do I fancy I shall look when I
am washing my self, like the signe of the Labour in vain.
So my cry is gone forth, and I am delivered by Miracle from this Dungeon of death and darkness: this cold Element of destruction.—
Hah—sure I heard a dismal hollow voice.—
What art thou com'st in charity.—
Ah le Diavillo! le Diavillo! le Diavillo.—
[Lets go the Bucket,
and is running frighted away.
Enter Fillamour and Page, he returns.
—How a man! was ever wretched wite so miserable, the devil at one hand, and a Roman Night-walker at the other! which danger shall I choose!—So, I am got up at last—thanks to my Knight, for I am sure 'twas he! hah he's here—I'le hear his business.
Enter Galliard with a Lanthorn, as from Silvia's house, held by Philipa.
Oh Lord 'tis Galliard! and angry too, now cou'd I but get off and leave Sir Signal to be beaten, 'twere a rare project,—but 'tis impossible without discovery.
But will you hear her Signior!
That is, will I lose more time about her! plague on't I have thrown
away already such Songs, and sonets, such Madrigalls and Posies, such
Night walks, sighs, and direfull Lovers looks, as wou'd have mollify'd
any woman of Conscience and Religion! and now to be popt 'ith mouth
with Quality! well if ever you catch me lying with any but honest well
meaning Damzells hereafter hang me:—farewell old secret farewell!
[Ex. Philipa.
—Now am I asham'd of being cuzend so damnably, Fillamour
that virtuous Rascall will so laugh at me! s'heart cou'd I but have
debaucht him, we had been on equall terms,—but I must help my self
with lying, and swear I have—a—
You shall not need, I'le keep your counsel Sir!
Hah—este vous la!—
How Fillamour all this while, some comfort yet, I am not the only professor that dissembles! but how to get away.—
Oh Harry, the most damnably defeated!
Hold! what noise is that! two men coming this way as from the house of the Curtizans.
Hah on retreating,—'sdeath I've no sword!
Enter Julio and Octavio fighting.
Here's one! I'le take my Pages!
Now am I mad for mischief, here hold my Lanthorn Boy!
Hah a door open! I care not who it belongs too, 'tis better dying within doors like a man then in the street like a dog!
Signior! a gentle Signior, whoe're ye are that owns this Mansion, I beseech you to give protection to a wretched man! half dead with fear and injury!
Nay, I defy the devil to be more dead with fear then I!—Signior you may enter! perhaps 'tis some body that will make an excuse for us both,—but hark they return!
He's gone! he's gone! perhaps for ever gone,—tell me thou silly manager of Love! how got this Ruffian in, how was it possible without thy knowledge,—he cou'd get admittance.
Now as I hope to live and learn I know not Madam! unless he follow'd you when you let in the Cavalier, which being by dark he easily conceal'd himself; no doubt some Lover of the Silvianetta's who mistaking you for her! took him too for a Rival!
Who ere he were, the Rogue fought like a fury, and but for your timely aid I'de been in some danger
But Galliard, thou wert telling me thy adventure with Silvianetta! there may be comfort in't.
So, now I shall hear with what concern he speaks of me.—
Oh damn her, damn her!
Hah!
The very'st jilt that ever learnt the Art.
Heavens!
Death the whore took me, for some Amorous English Elder Brother! and was for Matrimony in the devils name! thought me a loving fool, that nere had seen so glorious a sight before! and wou'd at any rate enjoy!
Oh Heavens! I am amaz'd! How much he differs from the thing he was, but a few minutes since.
And to advance her price, set up for Quality! nay swore she was a Maid! and that she did but Act the Curtizan!
Which then he seem'd to give a credit too,—oh the forsworn dissembler.
But when I came to the matter then in debate, she was for Honourable Love forsooth, and wou'd not yield no marry wou'd she, not under a Licence from the Parson of the Parish.
Who was it prethee, 'twere a good deed to be so reveng'd on her!
Pox on her no, I'me sure she's a damn'd gipsie, for at the same time she had her Lovers in reserve, lay hid in her Bed-Chamber.
Yes, our Coxcomb Knight Buffoon, laid by for a rellishing bit, in case I prov'd not season'd to her minde.
Hah! he knew him then!
But damn her, she passes with the Night, the day will bring new Objects.
Oh I do not doubt it Frank!
False and inconstant! Oh I shall rave Siilvio.—
Enter Cornelia! in Mans Cloathes with a Letter.
Here be the Cavaliers! give me kinde Heaven but hold of him, and if I keep him not, I here renounce my charms of wit and Beauty? —Signiors, is there a Cavalier amongst ye call'd Fillamour.
I own that name; what wou'd you Sir.
Only deliver this Signior.
I'le only tell you I am Brother to that Marcella whom you
have injur'd; to oblige you to meet me an hour hence, in the Piazo
Despagnia! I need not say with your sword in your hand, since you
will there meet,—Julio Sebastiano, Murisini:—hah! her
Brother sure—return'd from Travel,
[Aside.
—Signior—I will not fail to answer it as he desires,
[to Cornelia.
I'le take this opportunity to steal off undiscover'd,
So I've done my sisters business, now for my own.
But my good friend, pray what adventure have you been on to Night.
Faith Sir, 'twas like to have prov'd a pleasant one, I came just now from the Silvianetta,—the fair young Curtizan.
Hah! what said the man—came from me!
How Sir, you with Silvianetta! when?
Now, all the dear live long Night.
A pox take him, who can this be?—
This Night! this Night! that is not yet departed!
This very happy Night:—I told you I saw a lovely woman at St. Peters Church.
You did so.
I told you too I follow'd her home, but cou'd learn neither her Name nor quality, but my Page getting ino the acquaintance of one of hers, brought me news of both her Name Silvianetta, her quality a Curtizan!
I at Church yesterday! Now hang me if I had any such devout thoughts about me, whe what a damn'd scandalous Rascall this.
Fill'd with hopes of success, at Night I made her a visit, and under her window had a skirmish with some Rival, who was then serinading her:
Was't he that fought us then,—[Aside]—but it seems you were not mistaken in the house,—on with your story pray—death I grow jealous now,—[Aside] you came at Night you said?—
Yes, and was receiv'd at the door, by the kind Silvianetta, who softly whisper'd me, come to my bosome and be safe for ever! and doubtless took me for some happier man
Confusion on him, 'twas my very language!
Then led me by dark, into her Chamber!
Oh this damn'd lying Rascall! I do this?
But oh the things, the dear obliging things, the kinde the fair young charmer said and did.
To thee!
To me.
Did Silvianetta do this, Silvianetta the Curtizan.
That passes Sir for such, but is indeed of quality.
This stranger is the devil! how shou'd he know that secret else.
She told me too 'twas for my sake alone, whom from the first minute she saw, she Lov'd! she had assum'd that Name and that disguise, the sooner to invite me.
'Tis plain, the things I utter'd!—oh my heart!
Curse on the publique jilt, the very flattery she wou'd have past on me.
So, he has swallow'd with a vengeance the very bait she had prepar'd for me, or any body that wou'd bite.
'Slife I have anger enough to make me valiant, why shou'd I not make use on't, and beat this lying Villain whilst the sit holds.
And you design to keep these vows, though you're contracted to another woman?
—It shall be so,—Silvio—I've thought upon a way that must redeem all,—hark and observe me.—
But I'me impatient to pursue my adventure, Which I must endeavour to do, before the light discover the mistake; —Farewell Sir.
Go and be ruin'd quite, she has the knack of doing it.
I'le warrant ye Madam for my part.
—I have a damn'd hankering after this woman, why cou'd not I have put the cheat on her, as Julio has, I stand as little on my word as he! a good round Oath or two had done the business,—but a pox on't I lov'd too well to be so wise.
Conlicentia Signior! Is your name Galliard?
I am the man sweet-heart,—let me behold thee—hah— Sans Cour's! Page.
A dews of his Lanthorn, what shall I say now?
[Aside.
—Softly Signior, I am that Page whose chiefest business is to
attend my Lords Mistriss Sir.
His Mistress: whose Mistress, what Mistress; s'life how that little word has nettled me!
You have prevented the commands I had! but should my Lord know of it;—
Where I will follow thee, though to the bed of her thou'rt going too, and even prevent thy very business there.—
Enter Laura as before in a Night-gown. Scene, A Chamber.
Madam your Lovers here: your time's but short, consider too. Count Julio may arrive!
No you are always provided for such incounters and can fall too Sans Ceremony,—but I may spoil you stomack.
What mean these lights in every room, as if to make the day without the Sun: and quite destroy my hopes!—hah Galliard here!
Death, Madam, do not scare away my love, with tales of Ghosts, and fancies of the dead, I'le give ye proofs I'me living loving man, as errant an Amorous a Mortall as heart can wish—I hope she will not jilt me too.
So, I knew she wou'd bring matters about some way or other, oh mischief mischief help me! 'slife I can be wicked enough when I have no use on't, and now I have, I'me as harmless as a fool.
Oh save me! save me from the Murderer!
Hah!
A Murderer where!
I faint, I dye with horror of the sight.
Hah—my friend a Murderer! sure you mistake him Madam, he saw not Rome till yesterday,—an honest youth Madam and one that knows his distance upon occasion!—'slife how cam'st thou here— prethee begone and leave us!
Why do you know this Lady Sir.
Know her!—a—ay ay—man—and all her Relations, she's of quality,—withdraw withdraw—Madam—a—he is my friend and shall be civil.—
I have an easie faith for all you say,—but yet however innocent he be or dear to you, I beg he woul'd depart—he is so like my brothers Murtherer, that one look more wou'd kill me—
A Murtherer! charge me with cowardise, with Rapes or Treasons—Gods a Murtherer!
A devil on her! she has rob'd the sex of all their arts of cunning.
'Tis but in vain to stay—I see she did mistake her man last Night, and 'twas to chance I am in debt for that good fortune!— I will retire to show my obedience Madam!
Yes, yes, my forward friend you shall have an allay, if all my Art can do't, to damp thee even to disappointment
Madam, where vows are past, the want of ceremony may be pardon'd!
My pert young confident depart, and let your Master know he'l finde a better welcome from the fair vain Curtizan, la Silvianetta! where he has past the Night and given his vows.
A pretty focward sawcy lying boy this! and may do well in time,—Madam believe him not, I saw his Master yesterday,—converst with him,—I know him he's my friend!—'twas he that parted hence but now,—he told me all his passion for a Curtizan, scarce half an hour since.
So!
To be conquer'd at my own weapon too,—lying 'tis a hard case!—
Gone! no help, death I'le quarrel with him,—nay fight him, —Damn him,—rather then loose him thus,—stay Signior, [Pulls him. —You call me boy,—but you may finde your self mistaken Sir,— And know—I've that about me may convince ye, [Showing his sword. —'T has done some Execution!
By all that's good you shall not stir from hence, ho who waits there, Antonio, Silvio, Gaspero, [Enter all]—take that firce youth and bear him from my sight.
You shall not need, 'slife these rough Rogues will be too hard for me,—'ve one prevention left,—farewell,
Scene changes to the Street.—
Enter Julio alone.
Now by this breaking daylight I cou'd rave, I knew she mistook me last Night which made me so eager to improve my luckey minutes,—sure Galliard is not the man, I long to know the mistery, —hah—who's here—Fillamour.
Hold much mistaken youth! 'tis I am Julio, thou Fillamour know'st my Name, knows I ariv'd but yesterday at Rome, and heard the killing news of both my Sisters flights, Marcella and Cornelia,—and thou art some Imposture.
This is some trick between 'em! but I have sworn most solemnly, have sworn by Heaven and my Honour to resign her, and I will do't or dye,—therefore declare quickly, declare where she's, or I will leave thee dead upon the place.
So, death or Octavio, a pretty hopefull choice this.
Hold! by Heaven you shall not touch a single hair, thus— will I guard the secret in his bosome.
'Tis plain thoust injur'd me,—and to my Honour I'le sacrifice my friendship, follow me.
Ah Petro, fly fly swift and rescue him.—
Oh have I found thee, sit for my purpose too. Come hast along with me,—thou must present my Brother Julio instantly, or I am lost, and my projects lost, and my mans lost, and all's lost.
Enter Petro.
Victoria, Victoria, your Cavaliers and Conqueror! the other wounded in his sword hand, was easily disarm'd.
Then lets retire, if I am seen I'me lost,—Petro stay here for the Cavalier, and conduct him to me to this house;—I must be speedy now.—
Remember this is Julio!
I know your design and warrant ye my part:—hah Octavio.
Enter Octavio, Murisini, and Crapine.
Now cowardise that everlasting infamy, dwell ever on my face, that men may point me out that hated Lover, that saw his Mistress false, stood tamely by whilst she repeated vows! nay was so infamous so dully tame, to hear her swear her hatred and aversion, yet still I calmly listend! though my sword were ready, and did not cut his throat for't.
Why that was hansome,—I love fair play what wou'd you else have done!
Have fall'n upon him like a sudain storm, [Enter Pet. and Fill. quick unexpected in his height of Love:—see—see yonder! or I'me mistaken by this glimering day or that is Fillamour; now entering at her door, 'tis he by my revenge!—what say you Sir.
Mistaken! I saw the Ravisher enter just now, thy Uncle saw it too, oh my Excessive joy, come if I lye—say I'me a dog a Villain!
Scene changes to a Chamber, Enter Sir Signal—a little groping.
There's no finding my way out,—and now does fear make me fancy,—this some Inchanted Castle.—
Hah an Inchanted Castle!
Belonging to a monsterous Giant! who having spirited away the King of Tropicipopicans Daughter, keeps her here inclos'd, and that I wandering Knight am by sickle Fortune sent to her deliverance.
How's that! spirited away the King of Tropicipopicans daughter! bless me what unlawfull wickedness is practic'd, in this Romish Heathenish Countreys!
And yet the devil of any dwarfe Squire or Damzel have I met with yet:—wou'd I were clenlily off a this business,—hah lights as I live! and people coming this way!—bless me from the Giant,— Oh Lord what shall I do.—
I fear no Giants, having justice on my side, but Reputation makes me tender of my person!—hah—what's this a Curtain: I'le winde my self in this, it may secure me!
—They're entering, what shall I do—hah—here's a corner! defend me from a Chimney.
Just in the happy minute.
I've sworn by every God! by every power divine! to Marry thee! and save thee from the Tyranny of a forc't Contract,—Nay Gad if I loose a fine wench for want of Oaths this bout the devil's in me.
What think ye now Sir.
Damnation on her, set my rage at liberty!
[Mur. holds him.
that I may kill 'em both!
Hah new broyls, sure the devil's broke loose to Night!—my Uncle as I live!
And Octavio! where shall we fly for safety!
I'le ene trust to my Breeches! 'tis too late to retreat!—'slife here be our Cavaliers too, nay then nere fear falling into the Enemies hands!
I, I fled with Marcella! had I been blest with so much Love from her, I wou'd have boasted on't 'ith face of Heaven.
Was it not you, this scarce past Night I fought with here, in the house by dark! just when you had exchanged your vows with her!
So many disappointments in one Night, wou'd make a man turn honest in spight of Nature!
Some comfort yet, that I am not the only fool defeated! hah! Galliard.
I'me satisfied! [to Fill.]—but what cou'd move you Sir,— [to Gall.] to injure me! one of my Birth and Quality!
Faith Sir I never stand upon ceremony when there's a woman in the case,—nor knew I 'twas your Sister: Or if I had I shou'd alik'd her nere the worse for that, had she been kind.
And here I vow! by all the sacred Powers, [Kneels.] that punish perjury, never to set my heart on faithless woman!—Never to Love nor Marry! [Rises.] Travel sha'l be my business,—thou my Heir!
So, poor soul, I warrant he has been defeated too!
Marcella Sir will take ye at your word!
Marcella!
Who owns with blushes truths shou'd beconceal'd, but to prevent more mischief,—that I was yours Sir was against my will, [to Oct. my soul was Fillamours ere you claim'd a right in me; though I nere saw or held discourse with him, but at an awfull distance,—nor knew he of my flight.
I do believe, and give thee back my claim, I scorn the brutal part of Love! the noblest body where the heart is wanting.
Whe how now Cavalier! how like a discarded favorite do you look now, who whilst your Authority lasted laid about ye; domineerd huft and blusterd, as if there had been no end on't, now a man may approach ye without terror!—you see the meats snatcht out of your mouth Sir, the Lady's dispos'd on! who's Friends and Relations you were so well acquainted with.
Peace boy, I shall be angry else.—
Have you never a cast Mistress that will take compassion on you: faith what think you of the little Curtizan now!
As ill as ere I did! what's that to thee.
Much more then you're aware on Sir,—and faith to tell you truth I'me no servant to Count Julio! but ene a little michievous instrument she sent hither to prevent your making Love to Dona Laura !
'Tis she her felt,—how cou'd that beauty hide it self so long from being known! [Aside.]—Malicious little dog in a Manger, that wou'd neither eat, nor suffer the hungry to feed themselves! what spitefull devil cou'd move thee to treat a Lover thus! but I am pretty well reveng'd on ye!
On me!
You think I did not know those pretty Eyes! that lovely Mouth I have so often kist in cold imagination!
Softly tormentor!
In this disguse we parted from Vitterbo! atended only by Petro, and I hil pa! at Rome we took the Title and habit of two Curtizans; both to shelter us from knowledge, and to Oblige Fillamour to visit us, which we beliv'd he wou'd in curiosity, and yesterday it so fell out as we desir'd!
How ere my eyes might be impos'd upon, you see my heart was firm to its first object, can you forget and pardon the mistake!
She shall! and with Octavio's—and my Uncles leave,—thus make your Title good.—
'Tis vain to strive with destiny!
With all my heart,—but where's Cornelia all this while!
Here's the fair stragler Sir.
Why thou baggage, thou wicked contriver of mischief, what excuse hadst thou for running away, thou hadst no Lover?
'Twas therefore Sir! went to finde one! and if I am not mistaken in the mark, 'tis this Cavalier I pitch upon for that use and purpose.
Gad I thank ye for that,—I hope you'l ask my leave first, I'me finely drawn in efaith!—have I been dreaming all this Night, of the possession of a new gotten Mistress, to wake and finde my self nooz'd to a dull wife in the morning.
Thou talkst like a man that never knew the pleasures thou dispisest; faith try it Frank, and thou wilt hate thy past loose way of living.
And to encourage a young setter up, I do here promise to be the most Mistriss like wife,—you know Signior I have learnt the trade, though I had not stock to practice, and will be as expensive, Insolent, vain Extravagant, and Inconstant, as if you only had the keeping part, and another the Amorous Asignations, what think ye Sir.
Faith she pleads well! and ought to cary the cause!
She speaks Reason! and I'me resolv'd to trust good Nature —give me thy dear hand.—
And now you are both speed, pray give me leave to ask ye a civil question! are you sure you have been honest, if you have I know not by what Miracle you have liv'd.
Oh Sir as for that, I had a small stock of cash, in the hands of a cuple of English Bankers, on Sir Signal Buffoon.—
I am nndone!—but good Sir Signal do not cry whore first! as the old proverb says!
And good Mr. Governor, as another old proverb says, do not let the kettle call the Pot black-ars!—
How came you hither Gentlemen!
Whe! saith Sir divining of a wedding or two forward, I brought Mr. Chaplain to give you a cast of his Office, as the saying is.
What without Book Mr. Tickletext.
How now! sure you mistake, these are two Lovers of mine.
How Sir your Lovers! we are none of those Sir, we are Englishmen!
You mistake Sir Signal, this is Silvianetta!
How!
Here's another spark of your acquaintance,—do you know him.
How Barberacho! nay then all will out.—
Yes, and your fencing and Civility-Master.
Ay,—whe what was it you that pickt our pockets then,— and cheated us!
Most damnably,—but since 'twas for the supply of two fair Ladys, all shall be restor'd again.
Some comfort that.
Come lets in and forgive all, 'twas but one Nights Intrigue, in which all were a little faulty!
And Governor, pray let me have no more dominering and Usurpation! But as we have hitherto been honest Brothers in iniquity, so let's wink hereafter at each others frailties!