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IT takes, as right as wish—Quartilla, was just to her hour; and in the dark, I shuffled my Signior Principi's, Hand, into hers, instead of mine; and there's no doubt, but she has put them together—
He's a brawny Fellow, and like enough, to please her—But for fear the Jade, should be fond of him, next Morning, he has his Lesson, not to an∣swer her any thing, but broken Gibberish—The Jews sent in the Bed, and Plate on Roderigo's account, as new furniture for his House, and (as I am told) are resolv'd to seize it—And if my Signior Principi has not de∣ceiv'd me, we shall have Rable enough, about the House, presently)—I'll take a turn or two, to see the issue.
I say 'twas your Folly Brother, to send it, hand over Head.
We have had greater dealings with him, and his payment, was ever good.
But Men, may not be the same, at all times—It was conside∣rable, and you should have inquir'd.
You, knew his Broker: And I, saw the Goods deliver'd.
But he was broke before.
How could I, know that? Men don't proclaim it.
Had we been bitten by a Snap, 'twere somewhat—But by a prodigal Fool! The Town, will laugh at us.
Let's not make it worse, by talking—Come Gentlemen, stand close; and as the door opens, enter.
'Morrow Gentlemen; you're early Men.
Business, must not be neglected.
And if I mistake not, your Attendants, speak where it lies.
It is too late, to conceal it now—we're miserably cheated.
What? beaten at your own Weapon!—Roderigo sure, is a Man of Estate, and Credit.
Time was, he might have commanded all we have,—But now —the Bird is flown.
Gone, as a Man may say, in fumo!
He left enough behind, unless his Wife has sold it.
There's the Danger—Knock harder.
I have no small concern with him, my self, which brought me hither too; tho' not so well provided—But
When we have serv'd our selves, we're yours.
What rude Hand profan'd this Sanctuary?
And who are you?
I'm the righter of Wrongs, and undoer of Injuries—Heart of Steel, and Arms of Brass.
And what Figure do you make in this House?
Only engag'd, in Roderigo's absence—And (like the Dragon of old) I watch the golden Fruit, 'till his return—Still, true to Honour, and will fight her Battles.
As thus, with that Baboons Snout.
Voto!—Had it been under the Ear, y'ad measured your length.
Sirrah! Begone—And take to your old Trade of knitting Gaps,
making Hair-buttons, Tooth-picks, and false Dice, which you learnt, of your Comerogues of the Galleys.
Why Villains! Rogues! Jews! Is there no consideration of a Ladies Honour?
Keep her Honour to her self, and give us, our Goods.
And thou Polacco!—Oh me!
I hope, your Lady had a good Night of it.
Thou Devil Incarnate!
Picaro! Picaro! make haste Picaro! Execution, stays for ye.
What was that? Picaro!
I'm but buttoning my Coat, and will be with ye, instantly.
Come down! come down! There will be no Sport, 'till you come.
Ah Rogue! art thou there!—Have we refus'd Velasco, Tedesco, di Parphar, di Laco!—
The Devil and all!
And now, to be shamm'd, by the Common-Hangman!
Picaro! Picaro! Picaro! Picaro!
Is this your Principi Polacco!—Poveraccia! Poveraccia, pec∣catrice me!—I could eat thee.
Thou a Gentleman!—You said you'd make a Whore of me, too; but, why don't you Sirrah? why dont ye?
The Fool, raves—And so Picaro; I hope you lik'd your Bedfellow?
So well (Sir) I owe ye another Job; and that, for nothing—She was such Flesh and Blood!
And shall I, see Honour thus trampled on, and yet wear trusty Steel, on Thigh!—Let me, come at the Rogue—I'll pinck his Doublet, and make a Sieve, of's Skin.
Rogues, Scoundrels, Tatterdemallions!
—I say—Rogues, Dogs in Doublets,—Were ye more renown'd, than Palmerin of England; or valiant, than his Cousin, D'Oliva: More un∣daunted, than the twelve Peers of France; or greater Bullies, than King Arthur's Round-Table Men: More adventurous, than Valentine and Or∣son; or Invincible, than Don Bellamis of Greece: Nay—were the whole Mirrour of Knighthood contracted in ye—I'd make ye know—
Marone sure!—'tis he—'twas said, the Devil had carried him away, and now (be-like) has thrown him back, as not worth keeping.
Where am I?—Or whence, came I?—O Signior! I have wonders to tell ye—Roderigo is a Spirit—A very Devil.
And make you, a good use, of your Escape from him.
I will, I will: And never more, oppress any Man, but having got clear of the Senate, what I once, said in scorn, I'll now perform, in earnest—I'll build an Hospital.
To lodge those, your self first Beggar'd.
Give what I have to Charitable Uses.
That is to say—you'll sleep upon't, and look out, for another Mortgage, next Morning—Charity (you know) begins at home.
Respite your Censure, 'till you hear my Story—That I had hearkned to your good, vertuous Uncle!
Whom, under my present Circumstances, I'll never see—If ever Man lost his reason in a Petticoat, 'twas I, the poor, unfortunate, mistaken Fieschi.
YOu're a Man of your word.
And pray believe, I made not those Scruples, out of any repugnancy, or want of Will to serve ye, but, that in case my en∣deavours, answer not my desires, you might judge, the more favourably of me—Are all things ready?
They are; and if you, want nothing, I'll go for the Lady.
I only wait her—But be sure, you follow the Directions I gave ye.
They shall be observ'd.
And now, assist me thou great Patron of Mankind, Impudence! —I have some ends of Latin my self, besides a Bushel of hard Words, I learnt from others, if I can hit 'em right—However (like them) I'll trowl it of boldly, and enough of it: Nor shall that triflng Circumstance, of Sense, and Pertinence, be any Rub in my way—Ha'n't I heard a Man quote the Books he never read; and cited Authors, that never were? And ha'n't it past?—What should hinder it?
Are you, there? I'll conjure ye—Unhand me Villains.
And you too, nor Man, nor Devil: Semibovem{que} virum, Semi∣virum{que} bovem—[He whispers her] Belphegor; dear Belphegor; you know I once serv'd ye, at a dead lift—Come—be yet, civil, and depart—if not —this, is the last time of asking.
I forbid the Banes; both Parties, are not agreed—Have I, gra∣velled so many Doctors, to turn out now, for a pitiful Vinerollo?—Let me, come at him.
Then know, foul Fiend—Conjuro, & commando tibi, by St. Hugh's Bones, St Luke's Face, and venire St. Gri. And by all the occult Quali∣ties, of Salt, Sulphur, and Mercury, I once more, command, and conjure ye, that ye make me direct answer, touching your self, your Tatterde∣mallions, and Puggs, and forthwith depart this Lady, with all your Signatures, Tricks, Trinkets, and Trumperies, from the Crown of her Head, to the Soal of her Foot: Under the pain, that I releage, and con∣sine ye, to your dismal Lake, for a Thousand Years, yet more, than were ever decreed ye.
The Rogue's pleasant; and I'll humour him.
Tell me I say, and conjure ye as before—What are ye?
Shame faw him that speers, and kenns sa'wele.
Your Name I say.
Monsieur Devile: Don, or Signior Diavolo: Mine Here Tifle: He∣renagh mac Deul; or Sir Duncan, in the Devil's Name.
What's here? Philippus, Aureolus, Theophrastus, Paracelsus, Bom∣bastus of Hoenhayim?—How many are there of ye?
Ten hundred thousand Tun.
Of what Order!
Like other Bodies-aggregate; of none, nor ever reducible under any.
At least, your Superior's Name.
I never own'd any.
Tell me I say; and Jubeo!—Is there Absoluta Potentia Asmodei, sive cujusvis alii; or a vitium Corporis, as say the Learned—What made ye first, possess her?
Look on her, and answer your self: She's young, and handsome.
So was your Wife Sirrah: And yet—
Much about the time, you crackt a Commandment, with your Taylor's Wife—[Mat. starts.] Are ye concern'd Gentlemen! Ha, hah!
Bring me the Flagellum Daemonum—I'll taw ye.
Or rather, give your self, the first Discipline, and I'll help, to lay it on—Ha, hah, ha!
Once more, I say, turn out—Or by the Phoberon Phoberotaton; Ton de Apomeibomenos; And Heautontemorumenos—Smyrna, Rhodos, Colophon, Salamis, Chios, Argos, Athenae—I'll—
What? my new Conjurer, what? Hoh, hoh!
I lead ye about the Country, like a Bear by the Nose; make ye turn Spits, like a Dog in a Wheel: And if that won't do't▪ have ye
Chain'd, like a Flea, in a Box—And therefore, dispatch; and let me know, what sign, you'll give of your departure.
Thunder, Thunder, Thunder, as thus, Rascal.
I'll have ye bound over, for Bloodshed, and Battery.
I fear no Justice, under Heaven.
I'll bring ye into th' Spiritual Court, and have ye Excommunicated.
I am no Member of your Church: Or if I were, have no Mo∣ney, to pay Fees.
I'll have ye burnt in Effigie, with Brimstone, Galbanum, Aristo∣lochia, Hypericon, and Rue; in a more terrible Cap, and painted Coat, than the Inquisition, yet ever thought of—And if all this fail; I'll send ye back, to your Wife.
You told me so, once before; but now (I hope) you'll stay, 'till you catch me—Yet, I don't like the Rogue.
Then I'll bring her to you.
What would this Peasant be at?—I have more than once, view'd all the Pomp of Heaven, nor am I ignorant, of what's most formidable in Hell: But what means this?—Prethee, Matheo, what is it?
Are ye come to your Prethee, Sirrah?—Either march off ci∣villy, or know; that Will, or Nil, you shall—Alas poor Roderigo; your Wife's in chase of ye, and is just coming up stairs—Advance Impe∣ria!—
'Tis she, she'as found me out.
Fear nothing; the Work is done—and now take care of the Lady.
I'll see it done: And having made the Duke laugh, it shall be my next business, to see you gratify'd.
And if I get no more, 'tis no great matter—I have lin'd my self, pretty well, already: And now, all things consider'd, I think my self, happy enough, that I have 'scap'd Hanging, at last: And if in spight of my Stars, I set up for a Doctor, who can help it.
However, this I'm resolv'd—That, and other, the like Debts, I'll give 'em all, to Pious Uses—But for Restitution—Alas, my Estate's but small, and I cannot.
Help, Help me, Sister!—Can ye forgive me—you can't, you can't —Whither shall I run—He'll ha'me, he'll ha'me.
You never injur'd me, or if you had, I have (as I ought) forgot it.
Our House is more than haunted.
Sister—Sister—I've marry'd the Devil—See! where he stands!
Bless the poor miserable Woman, good Heaven!
His Eyes, as big as Pumpkins. [She starts.] And a Mouth, like any Baker's Oven—Let me alone good Devil, and take my Lady—she's younger Flesh.
See—See—The House cracks—The Walls, are coming together —That Beam, was shot at me.
I'm your old Servant Quartilla—good Devil.
There too—The Ground opens—I'll at him tho'—Dost thou yet brave me—Time was, thou fear'dst me more—I'll give ye back, your Keys—Dost thou yet—yet—
I see nothing, Sister—pray walk in with me—my Innocence, dares speak to him.
There, there, the greater Devil, Fieschi!
Poor afflicted Woman—Her hurt Imagination, conceives any thing—Pray go in with me; I'll bear ye Company.
No no,—I'll out, at that Window.
Horror!—Be Man, or Devil, I'll know what thou art.
Thy Vertue is beyond the Power of Hell—Be safe—And if you have not heard my Story, there's one [He points to Math.] can tell it ye—And so, my Embassie is at an end, per-force.
And your Creditors, may speak to ye, upon even terms.
No more of that—On what account, I first assum'd this Body,
you [To Matheo.] know—how I liv'd among ye, ye all know —And why, I went off so soon, my Wife, best knows—In short, I have found Earth the greater Hell, and being obliged to no more than my own Experience, must declare, that Mens Souls, are in the right, and 'tis their Wives, that send them thither.—And for my self, promise ye, I'll never again repent me, at so dear a rate.
Stupendious!—And the more I consider it, the more, I'm at a loss—My first surprise, is now, astonishment.
I'm of Opinion, his two Servants, that were taken up the other night, may be the same, as their Master, and therefore I order'd Picaro, to bring them hither, as if they were to be put upon the Rack: Perhaps, they'll tell ye more.
It can be no hurt; tho', nothing yet appears against em.
I would, I could say as much of my unfortunate Nephew, that was; and whom, Imperia's last words, unwillingly brought to my Me∣mory —Can ye, as I have, and ever will, forget him.
And more than that—I have forgiv'n him; do you the same—He is not, naturally, Vicious, and who knows, what his future actions may be—whatever were the Injury design'd, it was to me—My Portia is safe and I'm reveng'd enough—The dismal Object once agen!
But stay—suppose—
Are you, come agen!—Nay then advance Bailiffs!
Beware sirrah, how you fool, once too much—Suppose I say (my Term, being not a full third part expir'd) they'll not receive me be∣low? —Why—I must find somewhere, to put my Head—For the Wo∣men, I bar 'em, Bye, and Main: Who knows, but I may have better luck among the Men?—I have (I must confess) learn'd some Wit among ye; and according to your frank, open, wonted Simplicity, I'll tell ye my de∣sign; cross-bite it, if you can.
That could I, sirrah, if I durst.
I'll buz Fears, and Jealousies, among Citizens—Factions, among Country Gentlemen—Grumblings, among Younger Brothers—Heart∣burnings, among Courtiers—And Sedition, among the Common People. —But, suppose again, my Citizens Wife, work her Husband, into a good Trade?—My Country-Gentleman, be made a Justice of the Peace? —My Younger Brother, become an Elder Brother?—My Courtier, stumble on a good Office; or, be taken off, with a Feather in his Cap?—The common People, get another Opinion by the end?—And at last Necessity force every Man, to comply, with what he is? Then am I but where I was.—And (as I said before) in the greater Hell—And there∣fore Gentlemen, 'till we meet again, Buconos Nochios.
It yet, amazes me.
Do not believe him,—it is not the first time he has shewn me, that trick.
I have brought them (Sir) according to your commands: But, if I may be believ'd, in my own Trade; the first stretch, will pull 'em in pieces.
However, give 'em the Question—What are ye?
The same our Master was—And since (as I see) he has giv'n us the slip; what have I to do, but follow him?
The same will trusty Mingo.—Tell us of Racks! As I, came whole among ye, be assur'd, I'll not hazard, a Joynt, to satisfie, a World-Ev'n take 'em all together.
And mine to boot.
'Tis what I thought—Those Bodies, were assum'd—See if you know 'em; perhaps, they may have past your hand.
As likely, as not;
Well, take them off, and throw 'em together, into some hole or other.
And let 'em lye, 'till I enquire after them.
And beware you, how ye venture another trip, to Terra damnata.
But the Mob (I'm told) are got into my House, and rifling, what the Bank has left.
'Tis natural to 'em, when they cannot cudgel the Ass, to vent their rage against the Pack-Saddle—Go, make your Peace with the Senate, and for the rest, time may obliterate your Oppressions, and the next Age forget, their Fathers were undone by ye.
Poor comfortless Woman; she's fall'n asleep at last.
I think 'twould do well, to send her, and all the Women, to the Convertiti.
And for Pansa, I'll secure him, the Galleys.—And now Sir, give me leave to tell ye in private, what yet, I have in charge from the Senate.—Our Duke, having absolv'd his two Years Government, the Senate, is at last become so sensible of your Merit, that they have elected you, Duke, in his room:—A more solemn Message, will sud∣denly attend ye.