Belphegor, or, The marriage of the Devil a tragi-comedy, lately acted at the Queen's Theatre in Dorset-garden / by Mr. Wilson.

SCENE II.

Of Roderigo's House.

Enter Marone, Imperia, Quartilla.

Imp.

'Twas a sad accident; and I fear me, more, than a bare Chance.—I hear, you took, th'Examinations.

Mar.

The Friendship (Madam) I ever ow'd your Husband, might have commanded more—The rest, Signior Grimaldi, has appoint∣ed, to be taken here.

Imp.

And what d'ye' think?—Was my poor Sister?—I love her with my Soul—Is there any thing reaches her?

Mar.

Directly, nothing; But a single, uncertain Evidence, her Ser∣vant Bianca—Tho'to deal freely with ye', I suspect it—Men of my Station, can see day, at a little hole: Letters, make Words, and Cir∣cumstances, Things.

Imp.

Alas! Alas!—Tho' yet, my private thoughts, don't contradict ye—What wou'd she have done, had she had my Beast?—But, he was my Husband—And the more unfortunate me—I lov'd him. But pray—What ground have ye?

Mar.

Enough, if not too much.—Montalto's Estate (however it went in my Name) was dipt in the Bank, for thirty Thousand Duckats. —Fieschi, pays the Money: His Servant, gave Montalto his Wound: And whether, your Sister, and Fieschi, were absolute Strangers—I leave it to your Ladyship.

Imp.

I am afraid, y'ave gone too deep.

Mar.

I'll not give a rush for that Man, that cannot pick any thing out of nothing—At least, bring it in, by an Innuendo.—Men of Bu∣siness (Madam) are not so much to seek, as the World takes them.

Imp.

And truly, I tremble, while I speak it—I wish there were no design, of taking off, a Husband, to make room, for a Gal∣lant.

Mar.

My Conscience, tells me, y'ave hit the Nail.

Imp.

And shall I own that Sister? Vertue, forbid it!

Enter Grimaldi, and Portia.

Grim.

According to my appointment, I am come—Yet thought it, not altogether unfit, that this Lady, who is most concern'd, shou'd hear the matter.

Mar.

And pray Sir, how goes it with our Friend, Montalto? Is there no hopes?

Grim.

Yes truly: and as far as I conjecture, the greatest danger of his Wound, lies in the Chirurgeon's hard words—All of them agree, it fortunately slanted, on a Rib.

Por.

This worthy person inform'd me, it was his desire, the Exa∣minations might be taken here, which made me willing, to come my self.

Imp.

And that (perhaps) too soon, for somebodies credit.

Por.

Whose e'er it be, I can hear it with more grief, than trouble.

Imp.

Peradventure your own, or some ones else; who knows.

Grim.

I beseech you, Madam—(To Imperia) What mean ye?

Por.

How ill, this had become another?

Imp.

If any modest Woman, might have resented, an Husband's injuries, I, ought not to have sat down, with Roderigo's to me—But when I consider'd, he was my Husband, that Name soon covered all—I pray'd, no Gallant's Aid.

Grim.

What's here! The Devil washing his Face! O Woman! What canst thou not!

[Aside.

Por.

What vertuous Woman ever did?

Imp.

Recollect your self—I never doubted your Wit.

Por.

Add Patience, to my Innocence good Heaven!

Grim.

No more I beseech ye—And pray (Sir) how d'ye find it?

Mar.

I met a person t'other night Incognito; whom (not giving me a good account of himself) I committed: He's now without.

Grim.

And being informed; that Bianca was found in her Cloaths, at that late hour, when this accident happen'd, I thought fit to examine her; and all I cou'd get from her, was, there were other-guise persons concern'd, than Thieves—I sent her t'ye.

Mar.

The same, she says to me: And more—She's without too:

Grim.

Let's have her in.

[An Officer enters, and Exit again.

Mar.

Within there! Bring in Bianca—But wer't not con∣venient that Portia withdrew?

Por.

She can say nothing, shall shame me to hear.

[Returns with Bianca.

Grim.

Now Bianca—you remember what yo've said.—Who were those other-guise Persons?

Bian.

My Lady will be angry.

Por.

Speak boldly Woman—Let Truth come out, tho' I pe∣rish.

Bian.

Fieschi, and my Lady, had made an Assignation, and I was privy to it—But it seems my Master sitting up later than ordinary, and Fieschi making some noise, my Master rusht upon him, and in the Scuffle, receiv'd that Wound, from him.

Gri.

Fieschi!—I'll cut him from my Blood.

Imp.

My Sister! Her Vertue sure, knew better things!

Por.

And does, Imperia—My Innocence, is above Scan∣dal.

Gri.

And no one with him, but himself?

Bian.

Not that I saw, or heard.

Mar.

Take her back again—

[Exeunt Officers, with Bianca.

The other (perhaps) may tell you more—I've kept them asunder, and neither knows, of the others being apprehended.

Gri.

It was discreetly manag'd—Bring him in—Fieschi!—Villain!—Whom shall a Man put Faith in!

[Enter by another Door, an Officer with Pansa.

—His Servant too!—What mischief (Sirrah) have your Master, and you, been contriving?

Pan.

None, I yet hope—However, 'come what will of me, I will declare the Truth—About three Nights since, Bianca and I, had appointed a Meeting, at her Master's House, when stealing by his Appartment, it was my misfortune, to make a stumble; he hears me; I fled; He pursu'd; I got into a Closet; He sees a Glympse of my Lanthorn, and fires thro' it; I got out, and glar'd him in the Face; He fires a second Pistol, and closed with me; and having no other possibility of escaping, I was forc'd, to that unfortunate Stab, which yet, I put not so home, but that he wrench'd my dagger from me.

Gri.

This agrees word for word, with what Montalto told me—I wish tho', I could have seen the Dagger.

Pan.

It was my Master's, who having left it carelesly on his Ta∣ble, and I, considering there might be danger in the Streets, put it in my Pocket—And with that Dagger, made the Blow.

Imp.

Where was your Master?

Pan.

Had he been there, it is not to be thought, I'd take anothers guilt upon my self.

Gri.

This Cloud will break by degrees, and I am glad, we're got so far into't—Take off your Prisoner.

Mar.

Or rather, confront him with Bianca.

Gri.

Well thought of—bring her in again—

[She is brought in again.

You said ere while, that you saw no one but Fieschi,—And Pansa says 'twas himself only, and that by appointment between you two.

Pan.

By this token, that she, hearing the noise, put me into the Closet, and bid me bolt it on the inside.

[Bianca stutters.

Bian.

If th'ast a mind to hang thy self do—Yes—he was there—And I believe with a design of robbing the House.

Gri.

Pry'thee speak Truth—Whoever was there, Did your Lady, know any thing of it?

[She stands confused. At last kneels.

Bian.

Good (Madam) forgive me—You're innocent.

[She howls.

Gri.

Take them away, and keep them severally.

[Exeunt Officers, with the Prisoners.

Por.

And now Sister judge favourably of me: Poor me, whom, nothing, but a quiet Conscience, Had kept from sinking—This, is the true joy; And this, we give our selves; This makes us bear, A mind, above our Sex: Fortune may clear, The Visage, only this, can fill the Soul.

Mar.

Your Servant Sir, and occasion offers, I'll wait on ye.

[Exeunt Grimaldi, leading Portia, by one door. Marone and Imperia by another. Manet, Quartilla.

Qua.

And now, when all's done, Fieschi, for my Money—He's scarce half rid of a Surfeit, and yet vent'ring, on the same dish a∣gain —He has a passion for her, that's certain, or otherwise, A Love-fit at this time, were inexcusable—Well—his Present is sent in, and that, so noble, I am afraid, he does not intend, to come often.

[Imperia re-enters.

Imp.

What's all that Luggage in the other Room?

Qua.

A Damask Bed, with massy Fringe, and every thing suitable! besides, a rich Cupboard of Plate! And no other name for't, but Lug∣gage? —I wish your Ladyship had such another to Morrow, we'd find it House-room.

Imp.

I must confess it noble—But whence came it?

Qua.

No Terrachino, I dare warrant ye—It is the humble Pre∣sent of the Outlandish Prince, new come to Town; Il Signior Principi Polacco—Your Ladyship, understands the rest—But did ye know, how I enhanc'd the affair—Husband—Relations—Reputati∣on —Honour—And to all this, your utter averseness—You'd say, I was no Fool

Imp.

Is he handsome.

Qua.

What matters that? his Present, is—However, to satisfy ye —He's as handsome a Man, as the best of us need wish, to lie Board, and Board by—for my part, I could sink by his side.

Imp.

When will he be here?

Qua.

At Midnight—And you'll be asleep.

Imp.

But, to a Man I never saw? How shall I look next Morning?

Qua.

Just as you did before—Or you may, if you think fit, cry out, your Woman has betray'd ye—No body will hear ye. —tho' yet, if ye shou'd, he understands no Italian.

Imp.

Thou sha't supply my place—All Petticoats, are Sisters in the dark.

Qua.

I wou'd it were not, to wrong your Ladyship—come (Madam) no more Words: Do you but leave him one side of your Bed, he'll find, the rest, himself.

Imp.

Well—we'll further consider it, within.

[Exeunt.