Love in the dark, or, The man of bus'ness a comedy : acted at the Theatre Royal by His Majesties servants / written by Sir Francis Fane, Junior, Knight of the Bath.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. Cornanti's House.

Cornanti in a modish Habit, broad Hat, open Breast, stiff Pantaloons, &c.

Corn.

HOw easy and light do I find my self, since I shak'd off this lazy disease of Jealousy! methinks I am not the same man. Let me see. (

Takes out his Pocket-Glass.

) Why, no: thou ly'st in thy throat, old Cornanti, if thou say'st so. I renounce thee and thy Works. Well, now that I am new rigg'd and trimm'd, will I launch out into the Ocean of Bravery, and rout whole Squadrons of jealous Cuckolds. Woe be to the yellow Flags. What a world of Mistresses might a Man make, while he sits brooding over, and watching one Wife!

Enter Bellinganna.

My Wife has not seen me in my new Cloaths yet. I'll try if she knows me. Pray, Madam, what's become of the jealous Cockscomb, your Husband?

Bell.

You're very bold with him, Sir. Not at home. This is some intimate acquaintance of my Husband's;

Aside.

they will abuse him sometimes. 'Tis a flat-nos'd ugly fellow: he looks like one of my Husband's Bastards.

Cor.

Abuse me! I'll try my Rhetorick.

Bell.

'Slife, I think 'tis my Husband himself! How these fashionable Cloaths, and white Peruigs, (the great Levellers of Faces) alter Men! But I'll take no notice of him.

Cor.

Is't possible so exquisite a Beauty Can rest contented in such frozen Arms?

Bell.

Oh very well, Sir: I love to lye cool.

Cor.

Troth, Madam, to be plain with you, your Husband's my old acquaintance, and friend, my second-Self, and I have a great inclination to oblige him with a pair of Horns.

Bell.

Have you indeed, Sir? I know not what you see in me, can justify this liberty of talking. Be mannerly, or be∣gone, Sir.

Cor.

Well, well, Madam, I'll talk of something else. I was something the more free to droll with you, because they say your Husband, that was one of the most jealous Owls in na∣ture, is now perfectly cur'd, and convinc'd of your honesty. I am the most contented Man the Earth bears.

Bell.

Why, are you such a man?

Cor.

I mean, Madam, He said he was. What a Block-head am I!

Bell.

Now will I torment him a little. You're a goodly Man indeed to talk of being my Gallant! If I would be con∣cern'd with any man in the World, it should be Trivultio. Ah, what a Genty man is this Trivultio!

Cor.

Hell and Devils, Oh the crafty Strumpet! 'Tis too true I see.

Goes to draw his Sword: she runs up to him.

Bell.

Why, Husband; pretty, smug-fac'd Husband, did not I know thee? why wouldst thou conceal thy self? I was re∣solv'd to vex thee a little for't.

Cor.

Oh, was it nothing else? well enough. I did begin to relapse.

Bell.

Why, Husband, you're another manner of Man. Pret∣ty smirking Rogue, come kiss me.

Cor.

That I am y'faith: I defy all the young fellows in Town for a Gallant. That I do, so I do.

Enter Eunuch.

Eun.

Madam, yonder's Signior Hircanio without.

Bell.

Very good: bid him come in; I'll leave you.

Exit.

Cor.

I, I; that will make rare sport. This Jealousie, what is't? A dream of Horns. What if I dreamt of Tails, or cloven Feet, And had no real blemish? Suppose the Feat was done, what is it then? A wound of Honor, but without a pain: The running through of a Ghost, the letting bloud of Air,

The killing a Chimera. Honor's a Shadow, that a Shadow's Dream. Uncharitable Error, Vice of Plenty, A sensless fright That you want that of which you have too much. Is a Face worse for being seen: a voice for being heard By others? A Hand, an Arm, a Mouth, and so the rest, For being touch'd, if they be unremov'd? Did I imagine that I wanted Arms, or Legs, And had them still, were I not more ridiculous Than loss of them could make me monstrous? It was not so, when Men in Commons rang'd, When every Male had Heards of hungry Females, When Leachery was rul'd by publick Votes, And Lovers, chose like Magistrates In cautious Common-wealths, The shorter time, the better for the Publick; Then from full Meals they interchang'd their Dainties, But since we were restrain'd to little Chops. And slender Messes, it is our poverty That makes us narrow-Soul'd, and envious, Snarling at every Passenger comes near Our stinking close-pick'd Bone.

Enter Hircanio.

Hir.

May I make bold to interrupt your Solitude?

Cor.

A worse diversion were a favour, Sir. Faith, Sir, 'tis ill halting before a Cripple, I believe you're of my mind, you take an opportunity to visit the Lady, when her Husband's out of doors.

Hir.

Oh fy, Sir, she's a person of Honor,

Cor.

Be not so over-wise, grave Sir; I'll deal frankly with you; I'm before hand with you: look, Sir; do you see this knot of Diamonds? A small gift of hers.

Hir.

Death? my Jewel. This the happy Favorite: we spend to maintain others. But pray, Sir, did you ever obtain the Favour?

Cor.

Why, is not this a great one?

Hir.

I, I; but the favor t'enjoy her, Sir.

Cor.

Why, what d'ye think, we're no such Lenten-Lovers here in Italy, Jove be prais'd: I've layn with her five hundred times.

Hir.

Oh the happy Man! but is she not a rare Bedfellow?

Cor.

Faith, so, so: if it were not that she smells a little too much of the Frangipani in hot weather. But did you never kiss her too?

Hir.

Never but in a civil Salute, or so.

Cor.

Oh then she stops her Wind: but she has a breath more poisonous than the Pump-water of a Ship that never Leaks. The Devil's in him if he likes her now.

Aside.

Hir.

Oh pray, Sir, then spare your leavings, and speak a good word for me: I may chance to find you a Buona-Roba in another place.

Cor.

Say you so, Sir? I'll go about it strait.

Hir.

Do, good Sir.

Cor.

But remember your promise to Pimp for me, good grave Senator: 'tis an Honourable employment, and fit for none but Statesmen.

Exit.

Hir.

I'll not fail, Sir. This is the most hopeful way; for I fear her appointment in the Wilderness was trecherous.

Exit at the other door.

The SCENE, A Street.

Sforza walking in it, and stopping over against the Prison where Intrigo is.

Sfor.

So, now I know where I am: here dwells my Goddess.

Knocks on the Hilt, then Hems, Intrigo appears at the Grate.

Oh, now my Heaven appears; but clouded still. Dear Saint, Did ever mortal suffer so much violence?

Int.

Trust me, this noble Count, with Candor and Fami∣liarity, owns my afflictions, is come to see me, and calls me Saint, because of my persecutions.

Aside.

Certainly, Sir, it was a most unexpected and inhumane re∣straint.

Sfor.

I, to be hurry'd and hall'd away by force, And mew'd up in a kind of inchanted Castle. The Lady has caught cold by her voice.

Aside.

Int.

I, and terrefy'd and threaten'd, and kept prisoner, with∣out any Ground or Reason.

Parhelia looks out at a window hard by.

Parh.

Yonder's the Count has stumbled upon some other Masqu'd Lady: some mistake. I must go to him: is he mad?

Intr.

Verily, dear Sir, this was the most unjust captivity that ever was, since the Jews were in Babylon.

Sfor.

I, or the Spaniards under the Moors, in Granada.

Int.

Ha, Moors! does he abuse me? 'Tis true, I could not get out this Black yet.

Aside.

What e'r the occasion was, is more then every body's aware of; but some shall hear on't on both sides of their Ears.

Sfor.

Nay, pray forget it now: Ladies hands strike gently.

Int.

Well consider'd indeed, and 'tis good manners to kiss the Rod, and bear it patiently.

Sfor.

Why do you reproach me with my patience? Where shall I find the Offenders? I'll tell you the whole story.

Int.

How, can you tell my story better than my self?

Sfor.

Methinks the Lady speaks not pertinently.

Aside.

True, there was a Letter sent from a Lady.

Int.

Now does he abuse me, for taking up Bellinganna's Note.

Aside.

Sfor.

Which I took to be yours. You might hear some∣thing; but you saw nothing, but the beginning of the busi∣ness.

Int.

What means this?

Aside.

But I hope I shall see an end on't shortly.

Sfor.

Of what, dear Madam? Why do you speak so mysti∣cally? Must your Sence, as well as Face, be still obscur'd from me?

Int.

Does he call me, Madam? Without doubt he abuses me.

Aside.

For all your scoffs, Sir, some Ladies may have worse Faces; tho, I confess, I am a little Sun-burnt at present.

Sfor.

Oh pardon me, Divinest Beauty, my Faith's as strong as ever.

Int.

Why, worse and worse? I can endure no longer.

Enter Parhelia veil'd.

Sfor.

I have incens'd my Goddess.

Parh.

Well, what's the matter, Count?

Sfor.

Here comes the Enchantress.

Parh.

Another Mistress? What, are you mad; or turn'd inconstant?

Sfor.

Avoid, Satan: you impudent Magician, Sorceress; the Earth shall swallow me, before I'll leave my first Engage∣ments.

Parh.

Why? I'm your first.

Sfor.

'Tis salfe, you Witch, Medaea, Conjurer.

Parh.

There's, no talking to him now; but I'll stay to see th' event.

Sfor.

Conceal'd Divinity, offended Goddess

Falls down on his knees towards the Prison.

Once more impart thy Glorious Rayes, And visit thy immutable Adorer.

Plays and makes most loving Grimaces.

Pedro, my Guittar.

Int.

Ha! some Musick!

Putting out his Head farther than ordinary.

Parh.

Ha, ha, he! Intrigo in Prison, black as he was at my Cousin Bellinganna's, which you take for a Masque; and here's the Prison. Come, view your Mistress nearer.

Sfor.

Death, 'tis the grave fool indeed!

Int.

Abuse me still! Oh the ignorance of Mankind, that judges all things by the event!

Withdraws.

Parh.

Look here, that's my window I spy'd you from.

Sfor.

True, this is the place undoubtedly: now I remem∣ber it.

Falls on his knees to her.

A thousand pardons, Madam, if't be you.

Parh.

Nay, I'll convince you. Come, go in with me into my House, and thence into some publick place, Where you shall see her who your faith has try'd, And judge, if well or ill, your Virtue was employ'd.

Exeunt.

Enter Jacomo, knocks at the Prison door, the Jaylor opens the door.

Jac.

Sir, Signior Cornanti has order'd you to release Intrigo.

Jay.

Very well, Sir.

Exit.

Jac.

Methinks this imprisonment should, have so mortify'd him, that we shall hear no more of his Love-Adventures at our House: but 'tis ten to one but he will be launching out upon some new designe. He can no more conceal his counter∣feit Wisdom, then a beggarly Gallant can stay within doors. with a Copper-Lac'd Suit.

Enter Intrigo and Jaylor.

Grave Signior Intrigo, you are injoyn'd not to speak a word of the occasion of your coming to our House. Farewel, Sir,

Exit.

Int.

This release was certainly procur'd by some overture from the amorous Lady, and the mollify'd Duegna,

I will patiently expect another Summons.

Exit.

The SCENE, the Doge's Palace, with the same Furniture as before.

Sforza walking in it with his veil'd Mistress.

Sfor.

Bless me, great Gods, what do I see, my glorious Prison! the very same Room, the same Furniture, and the same Guards in Masks!

The Princess unveils, and he falls on his knees.

Oh Heavens, the self-same person!

Parh.

What, will you yet adore your shame-fac'd Idol? (Sure she's an Angel, 'cause invisible) Or must I force you once again?

Drollingly,

Sfor.

Mysterious Goddess, Blame not my disobedience, mis-led by duty. I'm yours by such a cloud of Titles, that I'm lost in't:

Slave to your Beauty, Subject to your Wit, And Captive to your Power, but as wise Princes Who conquer Kingdoms, though by Law their own, Claim by the Sword as the sublimest tenure, And scorn all other wrangling competitions: So let me be the Vassal of your greatness; (Though Wit and Beauty, Empires without Arms, Chain me too fast) kept in material Shackles; And in the meanest Drudgeries employ'd, Where I may view my Tyrants glorious Image.

Parh.

I'll not mistrust your Virtue, nor my Charms; Your constancy has made me value both; Nor call him Captive that's invincible: Love's no Usurper, but a Natural Prince; So good, he needs no Laws nor Customs to Restrain him; nor to protect him, Arms: Harmless with Forces irresistible; Invulnerable with naked Innocence. Then you shall be my Prisoner, but at large; Confin'd from nothing Love invites you to

Sfor.

And Honor shall be judge what Love shall do.

Enter Cornanti leading Aurana, and Trivultio leading Bellinganna.

Corn.

A jolly company y'faith, if we had the Fiddles.

Walks about Singing.

Parh.

What, broke loose again, Cousin?

Aur.

Pray, Madam, how came you to hear of my escape?

Parh.

Oh, my Consin Bellinganna and I, have kept a con∣stant correspondence. Well, Count, that you may not be mi∣serable alone, here are some other fellow-Prisoners to Ma∣trimony.

Sfor.

If happiness may be increas'd by participation, or if I can receive any addition to what I have already, it is to see my friend Trivultio so.

Triv.

Thanks, dear Count.

Sfor.

But, Madam, one doubt remains yet unresolv'd; Who were your Angels, and who your Ghosts?

Parh.

These were my Ghosts:

Pointing to her Guards.

And these my Angels.

Pointing to her Women and Pages.

Cor.

I have a pretty crochet just now come into my Head: Yonder

Parhelia and Bellin∣ganna talk together.

Trivultio, o'my conscience, is very ho∣nest, and would not cuckold me, if he might; and my Wife's a Woman of Honor: I have try'd 'em both; therefore will I cuckold him. Ah quil est doux de faire, son cher amy Cocu. Come hither pretty Soul, I do intend to make Trivultio my Heir: will you give me leave to visit you, when your Husband's from home?

Aur.

'Twill be the greater favor, Sir, that you will own me in his absence.

Cor.

So, so; Done and Done; as plain as up and ride. Look how the poor fellows looks at me! As jea∣lous

Triv. and Bell. pry at him, and counter∣feit a jealousie.

as a Goose! And my Wife too! I, Sir, if you knew how near you were being a Cuckold!

(Laughs.)

How sneakingly a man looks that's jea∣lous!

(Aside.)

But, me thinks the Rogue begins to look a squint at me.

Triv.

I'll fright him a little. Hark you, Sir, do you endea∣vour to corrupt my Mistress?

Angrily.

Cor.

'Slife, what shall I say? Thy Mistress! not for a world? I'm not such a Rogue. Make a Whore of her I intend shall bring Heirs to my Family!

Triv.

It seems you intend to get 'em your self. Come, come, Sir; 'tis no jesting matter; I over-heard you.

Cor.

Ha, ha, he. Was it not fit for me to try whether she were honest, or no? Thou shouldst never have had her else: my Son and Heir marry a Whore! I'de see her burnt first. If it had been any other Woman, I had been in earnest, la.

Triv.

Was it only so? I'm satisfy'd.

Cor.

Oh, are you so? There's wit for you, at a dead pinch, la! Poor easy Milk-sop, that shan't serve thy turn. Thou art already Listed and Inroll'd Into the Honorable Society.

Corna, Corna, Corna chi vuol hauer di Corna

Sings.

Hark thee, Trivultio, I have forty thousand Crowns to spare; let me see, how many Whores will that make?

Triv.

Faith, Sir, I want Arithmetick to count 'em. Shall I reckon by Julio's, or Halfe Crowns?

Cor.

Halfe Crowns. A good Market-rate. Let me see, about eight hundred thousand of 'em. That's all. I have a project, that every one of these Women shall bear me two Male Chil∣dren at a birth every year: so that about twenty years hence, I shall be able to bring every year a fresh Army of Sixteen hundred thousand fighting Men into the Field, out of my own Loyns, Boy. The old Patriarchs were Asses to me: poor impotent broken-belly'd Fumblers.

Triv.

But, at this rate, you must get more Children in a night than Hercules.

Cor.

Hercules! Why, Hercules never eat French Pottage, nor Jelly, nor Champignons. A poor Carret-eating Rogue! I'll have all the Cordials and Elixirs, that Nature treasures up for the industrious, payd by the rich. My Physitians shall study nothing else but the Art of Procreation; I'll have none but those that can turn all Nerves into Bones, and all Meat into Marrow.

Triv.

Right, Sir. You shall have all the three Concoctions in a minute, and the time gain'd from them shall be employ'd to lengthen Generation.

Enter Visconti with Melinda; Visconti, in his French Habit, stuck with Pistols, and a Musquetoon at's back.

Parh.

Well escap'd, Madam. I see you're as good as your word.

Mel.

Oh, Madam, I am as it were at home, under the wings of my Tutor here.

Visc.

And, Begar, me vil now teche you de finest leson in de vol vorld.

Mel.

No other Lesson, Mounsieur, but the French Song:

Sings a ridiculous French Song.

Cor.

What the Devil's this fellow that Melind has got?

Visc.

Me be de Exant of de Guard to de Princesse: vat is dat to you?

Cor.

Ex:ang, with a pox to't! what's that?

Aside.

Good Mr. Exang be patient.—

Turns his Head always at the word Exang, and laughs, for fear the other should see him.

Visc.

Do you laughé at me?

Cor.

Pray excuse me, Sir; 'tis new word I had not heard before, a fine word: but I honor your Person as much as any man living, good Mr. Ex∣ang.

Turns his Head and laughs.

Sfor.

We shall have some Blood-shed by and by, between these two Heroes.

Cor.

If I might be hang'd, I cannot forbear talking to him Hark you, Mounsieur Exang,—

(Turns his Head and laughs.)

are not you some Dancing-Master, or some such kind of fel∣low? pray throw off your fighting Tools a little, and teach me a Corante.

Walking about, and singing.

Visc.

Me Dancing-Metre! Begar you lye in de troate; me corn dat. Me Metre Dance?

Cor.

What are you then? a Fencing-Master? will you teach me the Stocade? the Sa, Sa?

Visc.

Morbleu: de affront to de Noblesse. Me no Metre-Dance, Metre-Fence, no Artizan, no Burgeois, no Fout-man. Me be Gentil homme. You be de Son of de Whore, and de Beech, and de Kishen Wench, to say so: me marry dis Lady de grand kalité. Me vil have satisfacseeon.

Triv.

'Slife, what have you done? The Frenchmen are all Gentlemen abroad, unless their Cloaths disprove 'em. The Ladies never question it. We shall have a Challenge present∣ly: will you please to accept of me for a Second?

Cor.

No, no; I hope, no need of that.

Trembling.

Visc.

Me Bourgeois! Me Roturier! Me Metre Dance!

Walking angrily.

Cor.

I did not care neither, but that I strain'd my Arm t'o∣ther day, fighting with the Watch: I can hardly stretch it out. And you know the chief Thrust lies in the Allongee. I hate to kill a man by halves.

A Dance; in the middle of which, Enter Parson.

Bell.

Come, come, we lose time: are you ready to be married?

To the work presently, Mr. Parson.

The three Couples joyn hands, Sforza and Parhelia; Visconti and Melinda; Trivultio and Aurana. A great noise without. (stand off, stand off; Tray∣tors, Traytors.) Clashing of Swords, the Women squeak.

Parh.

Oh Lord, we are undone! who would have thought. of any bodies coming here at this time?

Aur.

Heaven defend us.

Visc.

Que Diable est sa!

Triv.

Have a good Heart, man, 'tis nothing.

Cornanti trembles.

Cor.

Sayst thou so, Boy? Some frolick I warrant you.

Some of the Vizarded Men, are upon the Stage, others come running in. Enter the Doge and the Procura∣tors, the Yeomen of the Guard going before.

Doge.

Seize on the Conspirators.

Yeomem.

Deliver, deliver.

They seize 'em.

Doge.

If I had not come hither by accident, contrary to my custom, what a scandal had I layn under!

Bless me! my Daughter!

Parh.

I humbly beg your Highness pardon: 'twas but harmless mirth.

Doge.

With Arm'd Men in Vizards? and in my Palace too, To wound my Servants, and oppose my Entrance? I grieve at the dishonor of my spotless Race.

Hir.

Just Heaven, my Daughter with her hair-brain'd Gallant so soon again! Oh the wandring Whore!

Grim.

And mine too with her sharking Frenchman! You Pow'rs above, why am I not struck blind? Degenerate Strumpet, couldst thou find none to make Thy Paramour, but this poor Mushroom?

Visc.

Begar, me corn your word: me no Mushroom, no Stool-toad.

Grim.

If you be his Wife, you shall soon be Widow: I'll have our French Cock roasted alive, with his Gizards and Sausages about him there.

Mel.

Oh Lord!

Doge.

I'm sorry Sir, to find you here, after so late an Ho∣nor given by the Senate.

Sfor.

Sir, you will find Ingratitude a stranger to my thoughts.

Doge.

A Parson too? The Trumpet of Rebellion! But, what ranting modish Gentleman's that?

Sfor.

'Tis old Signior Cornanti in disguise.

Cor.

No, 'tis false, Sir, 'tis young Signior Cornanti.

Hir.

How have I been abus'd then.

Doge.

The Metamorphosis!

Cor.

What, you're but in jest, Cousin! 'will you never ha done? you'll fright the poor Wenches out of their little wits.

Grim.

'Twill prove a sad jest, good Mounsieur.

Cor.

Come, come, what a pox, this'll not pass. Ha, ha, he. Do you think to make a fool of me too? How you leer now! Do you think, if there had been any Treason in't, I, as a Se∣nator, would not have discover'd it? Have not I as great a love for the Commonwealth, as your self, Sir?—Hark you, Sir, have you found out a Buona-roba for me yet?

To Hircanio.

Doge.

This Gentleman's strangely alter'd, from a penurious Melancholly, to an exorbitant gayety. Sure he counterfeits.

Hir.

No doubt on't, Sir,—I know this poor fellow's folly; but let him be hang'd however, that he may tell no tales.

Aside.

Cor.

Trivultio, dost thou see how finely they act their Parts! as if it were a Stage-Play.

Doge.

I cannot guess what this design may be. These two are Subjects of the King of Spain.

Hir.

The Case is plain, these strangers have design'd To whore our Daughter, cut our Throats, and put A Spanish Yoak upon this free-born State. I hear there's an Army ready, marching from Milan: 'Tis no time to think, Sir.

Now, with this lye, will I come even with my Daughter's Ravisher, and my happy Rival though she hang for't too, no matter.

Aside.

Sfor.

Great Gods, assert our innocence,

Doge.

Gentlemen, this is no time time to defend your selves, The danger urges. I must speedily Provide for the safety of the Republick.

Visconti slips away.

Guards look to the Prisoners, and keep 'em all in several Rooms, with a Guard to each, that there may be no contri∣ving, or packing of sett Tales. And you, Tipstaves, let the Council of Forty be Assembled immediately; and let the Pope's Legate, Cardinal Colonna, though he arriv'd here but last night, and has not yet appear'd in publick, be desir'd to attend the Senate, in case of Ecclesiastical Censure, upon the lesser Offendors of this numerous Riot:

That our neglect, Posterity condemn not, Nor the least Wheel in this rare Frame be shaken, Though to the ruine of our private Houses.

Exit.

Hir.

Look especially to this wild Traytor Trivultio.

1 Gua.

I'll warrant you, Sir.

Exit with Triv.

2 Gua.

What's become of the Frenchman?

3 Gua.

I believe he's run away.

2 Gua.

That's like 'em.

Exit.

Cor.

What a pox means this? Hark you, Ladies, if they should be in sober sadness after all, 'twould vex one.

Parh.

'Tis too true, Cousin.

Cor.

Pox o'these grave fellows, there's more malice in one of 'em, than in twenty of us young merry scabs.

3 Gua.

Come away, Sir, do you rail at his Highness?

Cor.

What, I warrant you, you're in good earnest, are you, you'll be hang'd as soon.

3 Gua.

I'll try that.

Takes him.

Cor.

Nay, prithee good Beef-eater, stay a little; prythee, prythee.

3 Gua.

Come aloft, Sir.

The great fellow tucks him under his arm, and goes out with his heels foremost.

Cor.

Do you know who I am? A Senator, a Senator, a Senator,

Kicks and strugles. Exeunt Guarded.

The SCENE, A Street.

Enter Tipstaff and Circumstantio.

What a coil's here about this Master of thine? I tell thee he's not here.

Cir.

Why there can be no affairs of State transacted with∣out him.

Tipst.

Honest Circumstantio, I see thou hast little to do, and I have a great deal of business, prythee take my Tipstaff, and summon the Cardinal.

Cir.

Oh I know the House that was taken for him in the Strada della Chiesa; I'll do't for you.

Takes the Tipstaff.] Exit.

Enter a Watchman, with many of the Rabble about him. Visconti passes by hastily in his French Habit: the Watchman comes up to him.

Watch.

Stand; Whither so fast? Are not you one of the Conspirators?

Visc.

Me be povré Estranger:

1 Man.

A Frenchman, a Frenchman.

2 Man.

A French Dog; all the Plots come from thence.

3 Man.

Knock him down.

4 Man.

Brain him. This is he that set my House o' fire. 'T could be no body but a Frenchman.

6 Man.

This is he that got my Daughter with Child. That was a French trick too,

Watch.

Keep the Peace neighbors, and let us bring him be∣fore the Senate. He was in as much haste, as if he had been coming from Candia or Gygery.

All.

I, I, away with him, away with him. A Plot, a Plot: the French, the French.

1 Man.

They'll burn the City.

2 Man.

They'll worry our Wives and Children.

3 Man.

They'll let in the Sea, and drown us.

5 Man.

Twas they that brought the Plague into Venice.

7 Man.

I, and the Pox too, formerly.

Watch.

What's your name?

Visc.

Me he Metre de Language to Signior Grimani. Me be no Frenchman, me be Italieen.

1 Man.

No matter, you shall be hang'd for looking like one

2 Man.

I, for clipping the true Language.

3 Man.

You shall be hang'd Al-a-mode de France.

Watch.

Come, come away.

All.

Away with him, away with him.

Boys follow him crying.

A Mounsire. A Mounser. A Munchir. A Mister Mownseer. Exeunt all in a hurry, haling him away.

The SCENE A Prison with a Bed in't.

Trivultio in his Night-Gown and Cap. A Table, with bottles of Wine, and Glasses upon it. A Soldier to guard him.

Triv.

Come, honest Guard, take thy Glass in thy hand.

Gives him one.

Guard.

God bless your Worship.

Triv.

Now let us sing the Catch I show'd thee.

SONG.

HOw happy's our Fate, To live thus in State, With our Guards at our Gate! None can have access But must Court and Address And their business confess: Then take off thy Glass on thy dutiful Knee,

Guard kneels and drinks.

For Princes are Pris'ners as well as we.

Triv.

Now fill my Glass: faith, if we must dye, let's dye merrily however.

Guard.

I have heard 'em say, Sir, that Drinking's the cure of all Diseases.

Triv.

No, thou'rt mistaken. It sweetens sorrow, but removes it hot, Unless the mind be made Serene before,

With sublime preparations: then 'tis the highest Leachery to dye, and, next to that, to be in prison.

Guard.

Troth, Master, methinks you make very light on't. If I were sure there were good Drink i'th' other World, I did not care if I were dead too.

Triv.

Why dost thou doubt it, man? They say every thing is more plentiful there, than here; and all Men are alike, and no poor.

Guard.

Oh Lord, Master, how can you tell?

Triv.

Why, there are several that have staid in the other World a little time: as some that have been in long Swoons, Apoplexies, and praeternatural Sleeps; others, that have been halfe-hang'd, cut down again, and recover'd. The other world, they say, is just such another place, as the Countreys of Ame∣rica, Brazile, Mexico and Peru: there are few that venture to go there, but such as can live here no longer; but, when they come thither, they find every thing so good there, that they never think of coming back again.

Guard.

Oh Lord, what would I give to speak with one of those Men that have been in the other World!

Triv.

This fellow's deadly simple, and drunk to boot.

Aside.

Why, thou shalt speak with one presently. I'm a dying man, thou know'st, and if I were hang'd out-right now, 'twere but some hours sooner; and a toy takes me i' th'head, to have thee put my Garter about my neck, and half hang me, that I may see what the other World is, we're going to: but be sure you leave pulling when I make signs to give o're.

Guard.

Oh that would be fine, and pleasant, indeed, if I did not hurt you. But, Master, if I should hang you in good earnest, I should be hang'd for you.

Triv.

Oh, never fear that. Here, take my Garter, make a running knot, and on with it.

(Guard puts it on.)

Now ac∣cording to the laudable custom of Malefactors, will I give this wicked World a short exhortation.

Guard.

Oh, pray Master, do.

Triv.

Good People, I am come hither to be a spectacle to Men and Angels, Criticks, and Devils; I am to pay a debt to Nature, which she has made over to a greedy Huswife call'd Fortune,

who calls for it in before the day of payment. But Death is Ho∣norable, Advantageous, and Necessary: Honourable in old Men, to make room for younger; Advantageous to those that get Lega∣cies by it: and Necessary for Married people, that have no other Jayl-delivery. I am most justly brought hither to suffer this igno∣minious death, and as my Legacy, do beqneath you an useful cau∣tion, concerning that horrid and crying sin, that has brought me to this most Tragical end. My Godly Parents brought me up most virtuously, in hopes to have sold me to a Wife to the greater advan∣tage: but at fifteen years of age, the Devil, the Devil grew pow∣erful in me, and tempted me to a sin, Nature would never have thought of (good people: I tremble to name it)

Speaks softly and quivering.

getting my Mother's Maid with Child. Ah, Bettina, Bettina, thou taughtst me a trick I could never leave since. Thy Sweet-meats, and thy Sugar-plums, have brought me to the Gallows. Hangman, I freely forgive thee; and more freely, than ever any dying man did. Do thy Office.

Guard.

Oh Gemini! what a brave Speech will he make when he comes to't in good earnest!

Triv,

Pull down my Night-Cap that I may not fright thee, and that I may see more inwardly into the other world.

Pulls down his Cap, and pulls the Garter.

Guard.

What do you see now, Master?

Triv.

Nothing yet, but a Myst. Pull harder.

Triv. puts his fingers between his Throat and the Garter.

Now pull o' God's name.

Guard pulls a little; then asks.

Guard.

What do you see now Master? The Rope's very close: pray God he recover.

Triv.

I see Rocks and Mountains, and

He counterfeits a ratling in his Throat.

craggy places, and Men crawling upon 'em, like Snails or Maggots. Now I am come into a fair Plain, all set with Orange-Trees, Jessamin, and Rose-Trees: the most delicious place that in my life, I ever saw. But oh, oh, oh, now I see—

Guard.

What, Master, what? he speaks mighty plain to be three quarters hang'd; but 'tis a lightning before death.

Triv.

Oh the blessed sight! At the end of this Plain, I see a great huge pair of blew Stairs, as broad as all the whole World, made all of Turky Stones, and Lapis Lazuli's, and they are stuck as thick with Checquins, as ever they can hold, with many broad Portagu'us, and English Jacobus's amongst 'em; and there is one piece of huge bright Gold, as broad as from hence to Padua, and another paler piece, as broad as from hence to Malamocco.

Guard.

Now, o' my conscience, these same blew Stairs are the Skies; and the Stars, it seems, are nothing but Checquins; and the Planets, Portugu'us, and Cobus's: and the Sun and Moon are those same great gallant pieces. Pray Ma∣ster let me be hang'd too, and go to Heaven presently.

Triv.

No, no; I will see a little more. Oh the lovely Vision! Now do I see a great many of my old acquaintance, and some poor Tenants of my Father's, that are dead, going up and down these Stairs, and taking out the great pieces, and play∣ing with 'em at Coits, and tossing about the little ones like Tennis-balls.

Guard.

Oh Lord, Master, let me go to Heaven too, for God's sake: I can stay no longer. I will slacken the Rope.

Triv.

Now the Devil take thee for a cross fool: its all gone again.

Guard.

Nay, good Master, ben't angry, but hang me a little too.

Triv.

Come, and thou wilt, on that condition thou'lt hang me again.

Pulls off his Cap.

Guard.

I will indeed, Master.

Trivultio puts the Garter about his Neck, and the Cap on his Head, and pulls hard.

Triv.

What dost thou see now?

Guard.

Nothing yet Master but a black Mist:

Speaks as if he were almost strangled. Triv. picks the key of the door out of his pocket, shows it, and runs and unlocks the door, and and locks it again upon him.

And yet methinks the Rope is hard enough.

Triv.

Oh 'twill clear up by and by.

Guard.

Pull a little more. I see nothing in the World yet, but a great Fog. Pull, for God's sake, Master. Why don't you pull? Master, where are you?

Pulls off his Cap, and misses him.

Triv.

Here, Boy, here: is the Myst clear'd up yet?

Peeping in at the Gate.

Guard.

How the Devil got you there?

Feels for his Key and misses it.

Triv.

How many Checquins have you got in the other World? will you play at Coits, or Tennis with 'em? Are they as heavy as Venetian Money? sure they are light, they could not toss 'em so nimbly else.

Guard goes to the door, and finds it lock'd.

Guard.

Oh the Traytor! stop Thief, stop.

The Scene changes to a part of the Senate-House.

Enter Intrigo and a Door-keeper.

Door-k.

If you be discover'd I shall be sent to the Gallies; for none are admitted into the Senate-House, but Gentlemen of Venice.

Int.

Fear not, here's twenty Checquins for you.

Door-k.

Here, Sir, you may lye at large in this great Trunk of Records: 'tis a little Dining-room.

Shows him the Trunk.

I'll get a hole made on purpose to put out your Head and Hands, that you may listen and take Notes.

Int.

Very well, How shall I hug my self, to hear the con∣demnation of these imprudent Revellers! and besides, dive into the fresh Intrigues and Cabinet Councils, that come piping hot from Rome! How freely will this Cardinal empty himself into this bosom of mine, and know not who has drain'd him! This Art do we Politicians call pumping by Proxy, or the Magical Screw.

The Scene shuts upon 'em.

Enter Trivultio.

So so, I am got off clear. Now for another device to help my friends. The Cardinal Legate is newly come to Town, and scarce known to any man in Venice. Great Bodies move slowly, and he does not think the Senate is in such great haste; I will have a trick to prevent this Cardinal. The greatest, difficul∣ty will be, to get Hircanio's Daughter; But Cornanti is bound to make the Match for me, for the kindness I did, in curing

him of Jealousie. And shall I then attempt his wife again? In∣grateful God of Love! Pox on't, in matter of Women, the de∣ceit is Trivial. Civiliz'd Mankind that live in Towns, lye with one anothers Wives, as Gentlemen cheat in Horses, by a Tacit compact, and rule among themselves. Let Cornanti pursue his inclinations, I'll follow mine.

Man's Gratitude may sometimes rise from Pride. Friendship to others from the first writ Law Of pleasing of himself; why may not I endure The burden of a wilful obligation; And not be tossing it still back again To one who throws it upon me to ease himself? For why should Mankind live by Rule and Measure. Since all his Virtue rises from his Pleasure?