short, Matheo puts on a bold Face, and accosts Belphegor;
but, finding all to no purpose, throws himself upon the King's
Mercy, in favourably accepting his Endeavours; and demands a
large Stage, with all sorts of Musick, and Pomp imaginable;
and that the Lady be brought upon it: to be sure withal, that when
he threw up his Cap, that they all strike up together, with a gene∣ral
Shout: And this (said he) with some other Ingredients he
had, would, he doubted not, but deliver the Lady.
In fine, all things being accordingly prepared, and ready, the
Lady is brought upon the Stage, and from one thing to another,
they at last, quarrel, and Matheo throws up his Cap; which is
seconded with a full shout; at which the possess'd Lady starting,
and demanding the meaning of all that noise; Matheo tells the
Devil in her, his Wife had found him out, and was just coming
up Stairs; on which the Lady gives a Spring at him, and drops;
and Belphegor leaves her.
Thus far Matchiavel, whom I have chiefly follow'd;
saving, that where he runs his Fable from one Country, to
another, I found my self necessitated (for preserving the uni∣ty
of Time, and Place, as much as it would bear) to fix the
Scene, in some one place; and accordingly, chang'd it from
his Florence, &c. to Genoa; and this, the rather; partly,
in that the Women of Genoa, have a greater liberty, than
in other parts of Italy; and partly, that the Dukedom of
Genoa being elective, from two Years, to two Years, I might
make way for a cross Walk of Vertue, and thereby divert the
tediousness of a single Walk. A Path (I must confess) not so
generally trodden, yet even in that, the less subject to Sloughs,
or Dust.
To this purpose, I fancy, Imperia the Wife of Belphegor had
a Sister Portia (of as high Vertue, as herself was void of it)
married to Montalto, a noble Genoese, who had sunk his For∣tune,
in serving the Republick; which yet (unknown to him)
had been generously restor'd, by another Nobleman his Friend; and
thence, endeavour some short Characters of Friendship, and
Gratitude—Of a Woman, that sweetens her Husband, on all
occasions of discontent; One, whom no accident of Fortune can move,