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

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Of Roderigo's House.

Enter Imperia, Quartilla, Scintilla.

Imp.

OUR Gentleman (it seems) is gone to take the Air, and I can look about me now, without asking leave.

Quar.

He took so little with him, I wonder we hear nothing of him—his proud Spirit will come down in time.

Scin.

But to run away in such a hurry!

Imp.

That last Note I sent him did the business.

Scin.

What made a Gentleman of his Wealth and Credit, go off so soon?

Imp.

I was privy to none of his Actions; however, so foresaw it, as to secure his Estate to my self.

Scin.

And (with your Ladiship's leave) are you not bound in Honour to set him up again?

Quar.

If I thought he might not be troublesom, I'd perswade my Lady to take him home agen, and keep him in Pocket-money, for her own Credit.

Imp.

No, no—I'd better remove privately and secure what I have; and that the rather, for if ever I heard any thing in my Life, I heard his tread in my Chamber last Night.

Scin.

So have I fansied a man in bed with me, but when all came to all, 'twas nothing but a Night-mare.—However (Madam) remove where you will, a Man is some Credit to a House, and ours (methinks) seems naked without him.

Quar.

These Girls never consider, we shou'd have him rummaging the next Bandbox agen.

Imp.

O thou remembrest me.

[She takes out a Letter broken open. Reads.

—Terrachino!—The Thousand Crowns I formerly presented your Ladiship, emboldens me—Ha, ha, hah!—My Lord Lack-land!—There—

[She throws away the Letter.]

Tell her, that brought it, I have forgot the Token, and he must send it agen, or't wo'n't do.

[Quartilla takes up the Letter.

Quar.

Now out upon him!—had he the Impudence to believe o∣ther! —No (Madam) you have it seven Years yet good to take; and after that, you may truck, barter, or (at worst) give.

Enter Fieschi. Imperia beckons them off. Exeunt Quar. Scin.

Imp.

Ye may keep within call—And now, Fieschi—we have no more Excuses sure?—And how?—Was my Sister Complaisant?—Has good Nature yet brought her about?

Fies.

Judge of me, as you think I deserve.—I had found all open Approaches as troublesom as Fruitless, and therefore resolv'd on Stra∣tagem. —To this purpose, I follow'd the hint you gave me, and en∣gag'd her Woman to give me the opportunity of getting into her Apart∣ment, which (not many Nights since) I attempted: And tho' no one knew the House better than my self, yet being in the dark, it was my Misfortune to mistake his Apartment for hers—Montalto heard me, and sprang out; I (as well I might) fled, and by another mistake,

fell down Stairs; He pursu'd; I, recover'd the fall, and got off.—

Imp.

As to give ye your due, you had ever the discretion, to save one.

Fies.

I thank your Ladyship,—In short, my Servant, endea∣vouring to make up with me, engaged Montalto; wounded him, and got off himself: And (I know not by what accident) is since, taken; Or you might have been sure, I'd waited on ye sooner.

Imp.

Wou'd thou, wert in his room—A pretty Story!—And I believe't?—No, thou silly nothing—'Twas thou, that hir'dst thy Servant, to kill Montalto to make room for thy self—You were there?—The same, was I—I've heard the Story—A mere Inventi∣on of your own, to excuse your self, and cheat me.

Fies.

You do me wrong—That my design miscarry'd, is not my fault.

Imp.

You might have laid it better. Did I command ye to a Night-Adventure? I, bid ye Murder?—No—my spotless Honour, Cannot be blasted, by a Villain's tongue: Send me the Jewels, and the Gold I lent ye; Or you will rue the time, that I send for 'em: And so—As far as Honour, still command me; Further than that—Your humble Servant.

Exit Imperia.

Fies.

Hey-day!—Perfidious Woman! and I the Fool, To think, there ever was, or cou'd be other: How, like Egyptian Temples, do they at distance, Strike Reverence, and Admiration! How Beautiful! How Glorious!—Approach 'em, And view the God—You find a Cat, or Ape, A weeping Crocodile, or perhaps a Goat: Forgive me Vertue, but a just revenge, And I'll abjure (That fair defect of Nature) The very Sex; And never think on't more, But, as men do, of Debts, and Sins, to curse 'em.

[Stamps.

And now, for that revenge—My Servant's in hold, and I know not, how soon it may be my turn; but that I think him honest, and Montalto (as 'tis said) in no great danger—Help me Invention—

[Enter Quartilla]

I have it.

Qua.

I thought my Lady had call'd—however, I am glad to see your Worship so well—I have often tasted of your Bounty, and would be glad; it were in my power, to deserve it.

Fies.

Thou hast an honest Face, and I ever found thee trusty.

Qua.

And shall (I hope) continue so—And for my Face; 'tis all as you see: Let them, be beholding to slops, that want 'em.

Fies.

Nay, there is somewhat in it; for Signior Guido, is so concern'd for thee! thou'lt scarce believe it.

Qua.

Indeed Sir! I am beholding to him, for his Well-wishes.

Fies.

What wilt thou say now, if I make it a Match between ye?

Qua.

Ha, ha, ha,—But how shall we live together?

Fies.

He has an hundred ways of getting Money: Only (like other Men) an Hundred and fifty of spending it, besides drinking—But a Wife, will take him off, that.

Qua.

And a discreet Woman, will bear, with a small Fault.

Fies.

Well then—There is small Job, which thou may'st, and canst (if thou wilt) do for me: And that once done, Let me alone for thine.

[He chucks her under the Chin.

Qua.

And if I don't: never trust Woman again, for my sake.

Fies.

Your Lady—But thou'lt laugh—And I, are all to pieces.

Qua.

Mary forbid it!—Why, I have known ye play together like two Kittens; And as often told ye, Playing, commonly ended in ear∣nest —If that be all, I bring ye together again; and she'll love ye, the better.

Fies.

To move it to her, were to set her the father off—But thus—Tell her, there's an Outlandish Prince, new come to Town, and that he's so enamour'd of her, that he intends her a rich Damask Bed, and Cup-board of Plate, which he'll send in to Morrow; and wait on her himself at Night: Now, this Prince will I personate; let me a∣lone for the Disguise.

Qua.

Impossible!—She stands upon her Honour.—She receive a Night-visit! From a Stranger! And by her own Consent!—Be∣sides, your Tongue will betray ye.

Fies.

Tell her, the Prince understands no Italian; and therefore, she need not speak to him; nor take more notice of him, than if he were her Husband—And we shall have such laughing next Morning. —Come—Thou must.

[He gives her Money.

Qua.

What contrivances you Men have, to betray poor Women! —Well then—If you'll run the hazard; send in your Present to Mor∣row; and come your self at Midnight; because we are to remove in a day or two; for she fansies, the House is haunted.

Fies.

I'll venture, that too—only, do thou thy Part.

Qua.

You are resolved; And be it so.—In the mean time, you shall see how I'll work her—We Women, can do much together—But I'd almost forgot—What's you Prince's Name?

Fies.

Il Principi Polacco.

Qua.

Then say, and hold Polacco—You'll find me ready.

[Exit Quar.

Fies.

What Fools, a Man must sometimes, be beholding to!—And if I am not even with her Ladyship, I'll forgive her—That once over, I will endeavour, by some worthy Action, to expiate my past Folly.

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.

SCENE III.

The Vineyard.

Enter Mattheo solus [In a black Velvet Coat. A tipt Cane, turning up his Mustachios. Strutting, and viewing himself.

IT is the same—Of a better Edition tho'—And truly (to give the Devil his due) He has shown himself, much a Gentleman; which is more, than I'll say of every Man—I have already dislodg'd him, from two great Ladies; and if it holds, but one Year, how shall I dispose of this good Fortune?—My Boy—An arrant Crack-rope; Fathers own Son—I'll breed him, to my own new Trade; and send him abroad, to take his Degree—My Daughter—Let me see—she shall Marry—some Count, or other.—

Enter Grimaldi.

But hold—who knows, but here may be another Customer—and if so, I must stand off, to raise the Price.

[Aside.

Gri.

Our Duke (Sir) is so well assured, of your more than ordinary faculty, at Exorcism, that (the Lady Julia) a Neice of ours, being at this time, a Demoniack, he sent me, to pray your help, and further, assure you, of as large a Reward, as your self could wish, or the ob∣liging a Prince may merit.

[Mattheo, puts on a starcht gravity.

Mat.

I shall be proud, Signior, if my poor Talent, might contribute any thing, to his Serenities, or your Service—How far have you pro∣ceeded?

Gri.

Try'd all, that Religion, or Physick could propose.

Mat.

Have ye erected a Scheme, to know, under what direction, the Lady lies; and what kind of Devil it is, that possesses her?

Gri.

I think, not.

Mat.

The reason I ask ye, is, Because there are diversities of De∣vils —some, so easie, gentle, quiet, ye may do what ye will with 'em—Others agen, so sullen, refractary, cross-grain'd, that neither Threats, Enchantments, nor Devotion it self, will do any good on 'em.

Gri.

I leave it wholly to ye.

Mat.

Then the first thing I'll do, shall be to erect one; both, as to the Horary Question, and the matter it self; And when I've done that, I'll make a step to the Lady (as Incognito) and give ye, my Judgment of it.

Gri.

And, credit me, it shall be gratefully acknowledg'd.

[Exit.

Mat.

So so; here's more Money coming—A Count, did I say. —We'll better consider it.

[Enter Roderigo behind him, and gives him a tap on the Shoulder.

—Thy Fist my Mephestophilus! And what? Thou'st left the Lady Julia asleep, to see a Friend?

Rod.

Thy self, thou mean'st—But how cam'st thou to know it?

Mat.

You see, how I improve, by your Acquaintance—'twas kind∣ly done—And now, your Parole—What sort of People have ye, in the other World?

Rod.

What not?

Mat.

Have ye any Divines among ye?

Rod.

Why truly—we were once afraid of 'em; And were ever and anon, making Laws against'em: 'till at last finding, we were more a∣fraid, than hurt; we left them at their Liberty, to come, or go—But for the School-men, we ever shackle them, for fear they make as much disturbance there, as they have already done, here.

Mat.

Any Physicians?

Rod.

And they too (for several Years together) had sent us so many on their Errand, that we grew jealous of them, as that, they design'd a Party: 'till coming to a better understanding, we have ever since, not deny'd 'em House-room, for past Services.

Mat.

Any Lawyers?

Rod.

What should they, do there? The poor Devils, have no Mo∣ney, and the Rich, will part with none—And yet we want not their, Company too—But (alass!) Let 'em get what Estate soever here, they bring not a Groat with 'em, as not doubting, but to raise another, a∣mong us: But there, the case is alter'd.

Mat.

Have ye any Poets?

Rod.

Of Pretenders, not the least Number: And even there too, some few, who (regarding Glory, more than Profit) in studying, to di∣vert others, slipt their Opportunities, and lost themselves.

Mat.

Have you any Philosophers?

Rod.

What—They sell Hawks-Bells, and Rattles?

Mat.

The same.

Rod.

We are, with them (like Rome of old, with their Figure-fling∣ers) ever banishing 'em, but never rid of 'em—However, we rec∣kon them, among the Vutuosi.

Mat.

What are those Virtuosi?

Rod.

They study Nature—As why a Fly, should have six Legs; and a Dromedary but four—Why a Cat, when she's pleas'd, holds her Tail an end; And a Dog wags his—Why Crabs go backward; and the like.

Mat.

And very useful Enquiries—What Painters have ye?

Rod.

The Truth is, we had once banisht 'em, for painting us, more

ugly than we are; 'till Michael Angelo's Day of Judgment, complemented us, with a Master of the Ceremonies; and Parmasano, and Carrachi, with their Improvements upon Aretine: Pieces (I assure ye) of as much Service to us, as their others of Devotion, had like to have done us mischief.

Mat.

But what becomes of Tyrants, and others, those common Pests of Mankind? A sort of Men, we read of, in old Story, though I think the Race, be wholly run out now.

Rod.

'Twould make ye laugh, to see 'em—One, cobling of old Shooes; another, heeling of Stockings; a third, rubbing the Sweat in Hot-houses.

Mat.

Have ye, the Pox, there too?

Rod.

Millions, of Millions: For they that bring it not with them, are sure to get it, on their first Landing.

Mat.

Well, thou'rt a merry Devil; and I must say, an honest Devil. —But heark ye—I must beat up your Quarters once more.

Rod.

What? never have done?

Mat.

You know I deliver'd ye from the Talons of the Law, and then, you told me, what a grateful, Gentleman Devil, you'd prove. —Prethee oblige me, this once, in quitting the Lady Julia, And I release thee of all demands whatever.

Rod.

And I have paid ye sufficiently.

Mat.

But I'm concern'd in this, beyond a Retreat—Prethee, this once or I must say too, thou art not, that grateful Devil I expected.

Rod.

How Sirrah! Tax me with Ingratitude!—Have ye forgot, 'twas I that made your Fortune? I that gave ye the occasion, of that Aphoris∣matical Cane? And reform'd your greasie Shamois, into Silks, and Sattins? —And are ye now grown Insolent? I'll make ye know, I can take back, as well as give: or otherwise, call me the most pitiful, poor-Spirited Ra∣scal of a Devil—

Mat.

Nay, let's not part in Anger: A word, with ye.

Rod.

As many words as you please; but no more stark Love, and Kindness.

[They whisper. Matheo takes him by the Collar.

Mat.

Now Sirrah too—And since, nothing else will do it, I'll e'en re∣turn ye to your Wife.—They struggle, Rod. sinks under him, and leaves a dead Body.

Now shall I be hang'd for killing this Rascal—There's no more to be done, but cut of his Head, and bury him; and then (perhaps) wanting a Retreat, he may quit the Lady, of himself—I'll run for a Hatchet, and do it.

[Exit Mattheo. Rod. springs up with a hollow Laugh.

Rod.

Hoh—Hoh—Hoh—

[Rod. runs. Belzebub rises with horror. Mat. returns with an Hatchet, trembles, drops it, and crowds himself up to the Wall.

Belz.

Whither Belphegor! Hold!

Rod.

My old Colleague, and Friend, Belzebub!

Belz.

Which, I, abjure—we've heard of ye; Thou poor, Thou pitiful, Hen-hearted, sneaking Devil!

Thou, General! A Scandal to the name: Where's all that Fable of the Giants War, Thou hast so often boasted, as thy Story?

Rod.

And 'tis my Glory yet.

Belz.

In Chimney-Corners: Thou, ever threw'st Ossa, on Pelion! Away, thou changeling!—No—thy best Pretence, Is the degenerate Off-spring, of their Gore; Their, Earth-born Gore: And all thy former Soul, Is dwindled, to a Gloe-worm—Thou, a Devil! A very Shame, t'us all.

Rod.

The Inclination, Follows the temper of the Body; And I, Was out, in mine.

Belz.

Thou mightest have chosen better: How many brave Bandits, were there hang'd, yearly, That durst have trod, the utmost Brink of Space; Have fought the Devil, on a Precipice; Brav'd Fate; And stood, a second, and third Thunder. And thou, to take, such a tame, sniveling Slave!

Rod

Men have no Windows in their Breast; and what Could I, judge of a Carkass?—He was handsome, And so, a step, to get a Wife; which you well know, Was the first thing, I was obliged to do.

Belz.

And thou hast, got one, with a Vengeance!

Mistaken Fool! As if Women knew not, what a Smock-face meant? —They take him, for one of themselves; only, that Nature, mi∣stook him in the Coineage—if ever they, loved any thing, it was a rough-hewn Fellow, that knew, what was fit for 'em, and let 'em have it—But never, their Wills—If they once get that Bitt between their Teeth, they run away with ye.

Rod.

I was to become, in all things, as a Man; And did not more than what other Men did—and, if your, Grand Cabal, knew 'em so well, why was I sent hither?

Belz.

As an honourable Spy—Thou hadst the World before thee; Every Lap, was thy Chapel of Ease; nor wert thou bound, to Resi∣dence.

Rod.

And yet, to marry, One?

Belz.

As, those other Men; for fashion-sake—You may easily believe, we design'd no Breed—But where lay the obligation of loving her, more than other Men, their Wives?—But to doat on her! 'tis thy Eternal Blot.

Rod.

There had been no quiet without it.

Belz.

Unthinking Sot! Could there be any, with it?—If so, what makes thee, shifting thus?—What's become of your Million of Duckats?

Rod.

My Wife has either spent, or cheated me of 'em.

Belz.

Beast of a Devil!—Must we, torment the Bowels of the Earth,

Or from our Treasure of the Ocean, the spoils of Wracks and Tem∣pests, furnish thee? Thy Folly, or thy Wife's, never to be satisfied—I know not what?

Rod.

Ye left me to my self; and I, was guided by others—What Counsel ever drew his own Conveyance?

Belz.

But thou, contrary, to all Rules of Practice, hast given thy self, Physick.

[Rod. steps forward to him.

Rod.

As his Pennance then, even take the Doctor.

Belz.

Stand off,—thou less than Man, and unworthy, the name, of Devil.—I hate a Trimming▪ Devil—keep off.

Rod.

You, are no competent Judge; you, were never Married, your self—I submit all to Lucifer.

Belz.

And when your time's expir'd, you shall be heard.

Rod.

But if either my Wife, or Creditors catch me in the mean time, I must, and will return, at all adventures.

Belz.

That, at your Peril—And remember, I tell it ye.

[Sinks. [Rod. goes up to Math. yet trembling, and takes up the Hatchet, and lifts it at him.

Rod.

Now Sirrah, remember for what, you brought this Hatchet—But I'm a Gentleman—Live—And trouble me no more.

[Exit with it.

Mat.

A fair Escape—But what shall I say to Grimaldi though—Why —he's a noble Person, and if I tell him the Truth, he may (perhaps) be satisfied; at least, for a while—And if I don't out-wit my Devil, at last, I give him leave to brain me.

[Exit.

SCENE IV. Of Grimaldi's House.

Enter Grimaldi, Marone.

Mar.

'TIS the most I can gather—Pansa, stands firm, to his first Examination; and Bianca, more and more, clears her Lady.

Gri.

Nor can any thing please me better, but that, my Friend's get∣ting up agen.

Mar.

Would I could say as much, of Roderigo.

Gri.

For why Man?

Mar.

He's broke; and run away.

Gri.

What? he that darkned all our Stars!—Impossible!

Mar.

Too true.—

Gri.

Yet, how you magnify'd him!

Mar.

His great dealings, and punctual Payments, might have cheat∣ed any Man, as well as me.

Gri.

Was the Sum considerable?

Mar.

Two hundred thousand Duckats at least.

Gri.

'Tis a wonder, no more follow him: for it is often with Mer∣chants, as Nine-Pins; Hit but your first, and second right, and 'tis odds but two Parts in three, tumble.

Mar.

That (I'm afraid) shall I, for one—He owes me, ten thousand

Duckats; And when I went to his Lady this Morning, she told me, he had left her, a Beggar.

Gri.

And yet you know, he was Wise, Prudent, Vertuous,—and once, your Glory, he called ye Friend—and shall a little Dirt part ye?—Come—your Credit, will set him up again.

Mar.

If it would to the Gallows, l'd venture as much more.

Gri.

Your Friend—you wou'dn't sure?

Mar.

My Friend—A very Rogue: A meer cheating, beggarly, bankrupt Rascal.

[Enter a Servant to Marone.

Ser.

Roderigo (Sir) attempting to have got home last night, in a dis∣guise, was met by the Bailiffs, who secur'd him; and coming to him this Morning, found him dead.

Mar.

Nay then, farewell my ten thousand Duckats, if yet, that were all.

Ser.

And there were found in his Pocket, some Papers purporting a de∣sign, of betraying this City, wherein you seem concern'd; upon which, the Senate have issu'd Warrants against you, and seiz'd your House, and Goods, for Moneys (as 'tis said) due to the Bank.

[Marone starts, and tears his Hair.

Mar.

Roderigo! my Papers! the Bank!—What shall I do?

Gri.

Consult your Vertue—A Vertuous Man, is ever present to himself; and proof, against the worst, of Fortune.

Mar.

Vertue!—Cold comfort.

[He runs off. Rod. meets him.

Rod.

I was at your House, to have adjusted, some Accounts between us, and they directed me hither.

[Marone embraces him.

Mar.

Roderigo!—I'm o'er-joyed—They've bely'd my Friend—We'll never part.

Rod.

Content.

[Rod. takes him in his Arms, and sinks with him.

Gri.

Defend me Heaven!—What's this?

[He walks. Enter Serv.

—'t has half bereft me of my self.

Ser.

A Gentleman (Sir) they call him, the Devil-Doctor desires to speak with you.

Gri.

I wou'd he had come sooner—Bring him in.—

[Exit Servant.

Sure Hell's broke loose, this year.

[Enter Math. His Head broken.

—The dreadful Object's not yet digested.

Mat.

I was with the Lady according to my promise, but (like a Dog by a Gloyer) the Devil smelt me out from all the Company—Ecce signum.

[He points to his Head.

Gri.

I'm sorry for't—But the Duke, will send ye, a healing Plaister.

Mat.

And I, more sorry, that the Lady, lies under such an ill direction. —Strange Configurations—The Planets in their Detriment, Retrograde, and Malevolent; nor do I remember, to have seen, a worse Aspect of Heaven—Saturn, and Jupiter, Sir.—

Gri.

No Canting I beseech ye—I believe it.

Mat.

And for the Spirit, that possesses her—There has not such an ill∣contriv'd, capricious, hectoring Devil, broke-loose, these three last Cen∣turies; I believe the Fathers are sensible of it.

Gri.

The truth is, they have had a hard tug with him.

Mat.

He is perversus Haereticus,—Bell, Book, and Candle! He danc'd a Jigg to't—And for Holy Water! he made no more of it, than I'd have done, of a Bottle of Montefiasco—upon the whole matter; I judge him some Devil of Quality; and then, I have no Power over him: All mine, are poor Devils.

Gri.

This will not do—If you please to free her, it will be well ac∣cepted, and better rewarded—If not, be sure, the Duke will have ye in the Inquisition, and make ye set forth, by what new way, unkown to the Church, you have delivered the two former.—Or (who knows) Inquire de Vita, & moribus, and hang your self.

Mat.

Will ye then hear me, without canting, and I'll discover all?

Gri.

Hear ye, I will; but promise, nothing.

Mat.

I ask no more—And who d'ye think this Devil is? even Roderigo, our late, great Merchant.

Gri.

Convince me of that, and thou say'st somewhat.

Mat.

The Story is too large, to tell you now; but thus, in short—'t as by compact between us for a prior Service, of which I'll give ye an account anon—and on that score, and no other, was it, that I freed those Ladies of him.

Gri.

Then thou maist the better do this.

Mat.

I once, thought it: But since you spake to me, we met; and I pro∣pos'd to him, the quitting the Lady Julia, as the last kindness I'd demand of him; and he not only refus'd me, but profest himself my mortal Enemy: And if this,

[pointing to his Head]

be the Token of a Friend, I leave it to you.

Gri.

I am inclin'd to believe thee—for 'twas not a Minute before you came, but he was here, and gave me that Evidence of what you say, I'll never desire, to see't agen.—But what shall we do with the Duke?

Mat.

Do not despair—I've yet a trick, shall do the Business—Get me a large Stage, with a full throng of People: Fifes, Flutes, Cornets, Trum∣pets, Sackbuts, Drums, Kettle-drums, Hautboys, and Bagpipes; and let the Lady Julia, be brought on the Stage well attended; and when I throw up my Hat, let 'em all strike up together, and when I cry Advance, let a Lady in a Veil, whom I'll appoint for that purpose, enter with another shout: And this, with some other Ingredients that I have, will (I doubt not) send him packing.

Gri.

Appoint your time, and place, all shall be ready.

Mat.

I leave that, to your pleasure.

Gri.

What think you, of t'Morrow, and the Duke's great hall for th'place

Mat.

None better, and I'll attend ye there.

[Exeunt.