THE Perjured Husband: OR, The Adventures of Venice.  
A TRAGEDY.  
As 'twas Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, By His Majesty's Servants.  
Written by S. Carol.  
LONDON, Printed for Bennet Banbury, at the Blue Anchor in the New Exchange in the Strand. 1700.   

To His Grace WRIOTHESLY, Duke of Bedford.  
May it please your Grace,  
'tIs the just Prerogative of true Greatness to be universally admired by all; and one so Eminently possessed of it as your Grace, can no more escape the Tribute of our Praise and Admiration, than you can cease to deserve it; not that 'tis in the power of any one, or even the Applause of Multitudes, to reach half your Merit, yet may we be allowed, according to the proportion of our poor stock, to throw in our Mite; and not be frightened from the hopes of your Grace's Patronage, by considering the unworthiness of the Offering; for were none but worthy Offerings made, the Gods themselves would lose their Sacrifice; and they that deserve most our Praise should have it least, because 'tis hardest to give them their due.  
And 'tis impossible, my Lord, this Poem should find Sanctuary any where but in the umbrage of your favour, for the Eyes of all Mankind are so fixed upon your Grace, that 'twould be a disappointment to the public to lay at any other's door, what is so much your due. And though I hit not a Wildair for the humour of the Town in my Play, I may boldly say I have copied the greatest part of mankind in the Just Admiration of your Grace.  
Your particular Art, in appearing Free, Complaisant and Conversible, without quitting a Noble Greatness proper to yourself, makes us at once approach you with Freedom and with Awe: Your Goodness, that makes you stoop to your Inferiors, loses nothing by being viewed near at hand, but is the more admired for it; and thus we consider your Grace arrived at the height of Greatness, without a mortifying reflection on the lowness of our own condition; nor does the world envy the truly Great, who by their Goodness and Affability make Mankind partake of their Felicity.  
I may plead Prescription in excuse of this presumption, and tell how Poets in all ages have pretended a Right to lay their Works at some Nobleman's feet; but I'd rather submit to your Grace's Goodness; for if I have offended, 'tis a fault of the best kind, and proceeds from too much Zeal to let the World know how much I am,  
My Lord, Your Grace's most Obedient and Devoted Humble Servant, Susanna Carol.   

TO THE READER.  
I Should not trouble my Reader with a Preface, if Mr Collier had taught Manners to Masks, Sense to Beaux, and Good Nature to Critics, as well as Morality to the Stage; the first are sure to envy what they can't equal, and condemn what they don't understand; the Beaux usually take a greater liberty with our sex than they would with their own, because there's no fear of drawing a Duel upon their hands; the latter are a sort of rude splenatick Men, that seldom commend any thing but what they have had a hand in. These Snarling Sparks were pleased to carp at one or two Expressions, which were spoken in an Aside by one of the Inferior Characters in the Drama; and without considering the Reputation of the persons in whose mouths the language is put, condemn it straight for lose and obscure: Now (with submission to better Judges) I cannot believe that a Prayer-Book should be put into the hands of a woman, whose Innate Virtue won't secure her Reputation; nor is it reasonable to expect a person, whose Inclinations are always forming projects to the dishonour of her Husband, should deliver her Commands to her Confident in the words of a Psalm. ay, heartily wish that those that find fault with the liberty of my stile, would be pleased to set a Pattern to the Town, by Retrenching some of their Debaucheries, for Modesty thrives best by Example. Modest Language from the truly Virtuous is expected, I mean such as will neither act ill, nor suffer ill to be acted: It is not enough that Lucy says she's honest, in having denied the Brutal part; who ever thinks Virtue centres in that, has a wrong notion of it; no, Virtue is a tender Plant, which cannot live in tainted ground; Virtue is what the air of Flattery cannot blast, nor the vile sordid dross of Gain poison; and she that can withstand these two shocks may be styled truly virtuous. I ask my Reader's pardon for my bluntness, but I hope none of my Sex so qualified will condemn me for exposing the Vices of the seeming Religious.  
I fear there is but too many hit by the Character of Signora Pizalta; I wish for the sake of the reverse party there were fewer, or they better known, since the malicious world are so apt to judge of people's Inclinations by the company they keep; which is sometimes Authentic, but not always an Infallible Rule. I shall say little in Justification of the Play, only desire the Reader to judge impartially, and not condemn it by the shroeness of its Life, since the season of the year ne'er promised much better success. It went off with general Applause; and 'tis the opinion of some of our best Judges, that it only wanted the Addition of good Actors, and a full Town, to have brought me a sixth night, there having been worse Plays within this twelvemonth approved of.   

THE PROLOGUE. By a Gentleman. Spoken by Mrs Oldfield.  
SUch dreadful Laws of late 'gainst wit are made,  
It dares not in the City show its head.  
No place is safe; each Cuckold turns Informer,  
If we make merry— it must be in a corner.  
And here's to night what doubly makes it sweet,  
A private Table, and a Ladies treat:  
At her reflections none can be uneasy,  
When the kind Creature does her best to please ye.  
Humbly she sues, and 'tis not for your Glory  
Tinsult a Lady— when she falls before ye  
But since no humane Wit can stand the Test,  
With Gorman! and the Champion of the West!  
She'll fill the Lists, and then you cannot slight her,  
(With honour safe) for she's a Fair Inviter.  
Expect no favour, but at honour's call,  
Defy's the boldest Britton of you all;  
Whate're's her fate, she's sure to gain the Field,  
For Women always Conquer when they yield.   

EPILOGUE. By Mr B—. Spoken by Mr Jo. Haines.  
TOo long the Poets brought before the Bar,  
Have with their bold Accuser waged the War;  
They now plead Guilty: And Confess the Stage  
Has been immoral, and debauched the Age.  
Nay, They will mend— But wish that in their station,  
All Men were pleased to forward Reformation.  
First, let no Politicians with vain Fears,  
About succeeding Kings create new Jars;  
Let Lawyers now no more perplex the Laws,  
Nor with malicious Quibbles split a Cause;  
Let Magistrates consider 'tis but fitting,  
That as they take down Bills, they'd put down cheating.  
Let our young Heroes, who would be Commanders,  
Brag less o'er Coffee, and fight more in Flanders.  
Let Cheapside Doctors in a frantic Fit,  
No more make impious War with sacred Wit;  
Let City Wives (but that's too hard a task)  
Mimic no more Town-Ladies in a Mask,  
Nor from their Prentices the favour ask;  
Let no old cast-off Miss assume the Saint,  
Let Cowards cease to Huff, and Beaux to Paint;  
Let at yond corner House the Wits and Bards,  
Gain by Religion, what they lose at Cards;  
Let snarling, peevish Critics cease to bite,  
Or in a false sublime dull Plays do write;  
Let Galleries no more for Judges sit,  
But leave to the bright Boxes, and the Pit,  
Their lawful Empire o'er immortal Wit,  
When all this heavy Task is well performed,  
We dare engage the Stage shall be reformed.   

Persons Represented.  



MEN.  COunt Bassino, a Savoyard, Married to Placentia, and in Love with Aurelia. 
Mr Mills.  Armando, Bassino's Friend. 
Mr Simpson.  Alonzo, a Venetian Gentleman, betrothed to Aurelia. 
Mr Thomas.  Pizalto, a Noble Venetian. 
Mr Norris.  Ludovico, a French man. 
Mr Fairbank.    


WOMEN.  Placentia, Bassino's Wife. 
Mrs Kent.  Aurelia, a young Venetian Lady, betrothed to Alonzo, but in Love with Bassino. 
Mrs Oldfield.  Floreila, her. Woman. 
Mrs' Baker.  Lady Pizalta, Pizalto's Wife. 
Mrs Moor.  Lucy, her Woman. 
Mrs Lucas:    
Maskers, Dancers, Singers and Attendants.  
SCENE, Venice in Carnival time.    

THE Perjured Husband.  


ACT I. SCENE I.  The Curtains fly up, and discover a Mask in Pizalto's House. Pizalto, Lady Pizalta, Lucy; Ludovico talking to Lady Pizalta; Bassino and Aurelia talking together; Florella and other Maskers. A Spanish Entry. While the Dance is performing, Enter Armando, and gives Bassino two Letters, which he opens and reads. Lady Pizalta and Lucy advance to the Front of the Stage. Lady Piz. 
OH! Lucy, I'm undone—  
That Stranger there has charmed my Heart: I feel  
The Power of conquering Love; quick, quickly tell  
What shall I do to ease this racking Passion? (me,  Lucy. 
Nay, Madam, I fancy your Passion has little occasion for Lenitives: it blazes so violently at first, 'tis like to be soon extinguished.  L. Piz. 
Dear Lucy, don't trifle with me; but contrive, imagine, do any thing, to bless thy Love-sick Mistress with the sight of that dear man. And as an earnest of further Rewards, here take this—  Gives her a Ring. Lucy. 
Madam, I receive your Commands with much joy,  
But your Present with more—  Aside 
I'll try what this projecting brain can do, and if you step into the next  
Room, I'll soon give you an account of my proceedings.  Exit L. Pizalta. Bass. 
Ye Gods!  
What have I done, that you pursue me thus!  
Why did you ere decree that I should wed  
A Wife I now must hate? Why did I see  
The bright Aurelia? Why am I thus torn  
'Twixt Love and Duty! Oh! what Pangs. what Torments  
My soul endures! Oh! my Aurelia!  Exeunt omnes, but Lucy & Ludou. Lucy pulling Ludovico by the Sleeve. Lucy. 
Sir, Sir, one word with you.  Lud. 
Your business—  Lucy. 
May one ask you a civil question, and be resolved?  Lud. 
Hum— A civil question, sayst thou? What's it, prithee, a night's lodging? if so, pull off thy, Mask, and I'll resolve thee instantly— But I never strike Bargains in the dark.  Lucy. 
I don't know, Sir, but it may tend to that, by way of Proxy, at the long run: But at present my Commission reaches no further than to know your Lodgings; if any Thing comes on't, I fancy 'twill not displease you  Lud. 
aside. Hum— This is but a Pettisogger in Intrigues I find;—  
Egad, I'm like to be pretty well employed during the Carneval—  
Well, considering I am a stranger here, this hit may be a lucky one, and the Lady handsome— Egad, I'll fancy her so at least, were't but for the pleasure of Expectation.  Lucy. 
What are you studying, Sir? Are you so long resolving whether you shall accept a Lady's Favour, or no?  Lud. 
No, faith; Child: I am not over-scrupulous in those matters—  
Let her be but Woman, and we shan't disagree— And so thou mayst tell her— There's a direction for thee.  
Tears the Superscription of a Letter and gives it her.  Exit Ludovico. Lucy. 
Frank and easy, a la mode de Paris— Well, these indifferent  
Sparks charm more than all your cringing Pops— Now for my business  
— Let me see— I'll to my Lady, she'll write; I'll carry the Letrer, and the Devil will turn Saint, if I don't bring 'em together, and merit a further Recompense.  
By Coupling many have their Fortunes made;  
I only want Preferment, not my Trade.  Exit Lucy.  

SCENE II.  The Scene changes to Bassino's Lodgings, and discovers the Count in his Nightgown, a Table with Lights, and Letters hirg on the Table. Bas. 
All things lie hushed in peaceful silence here:  
All but Bassino's mind— Oh! happy he  
Who lives secure and free from Love's Alarms.  
But happier far, who, master of himself,  
Ranges abroad without that Cleg, a Wife.  
Oh! rigorous Laws imposed on freeborn Man!  
On Man, by bounteous Nature first designed  
The Sovereign Lord of all the Universe!  
Why must his generous Passion thus be starved,  
And be confined to one alone?  
The Woman, whom Heaven sent as a Relief;  
To ease the burden of a Tedious Life,  
And be enjoyed when summoned by desire,  
Is now become the Tyrant of our Fates.  Takes up a Letter. 
But hold, Bassino! whither does thy Passion  
Hurry thy wandering Reason; Let this Letter  
Recall the Fugitive, and fix thy Senses  
On duteous Love— A Wife, so young, so fair,  
So excellent; whose Charms not three months since  
Did fire thy Soul; a Wife who, dotes on Thee;  
A Wife to whom ' thou sworest eternal love—  
By Heaven, I swear again I will be true.  
This Thought again restores my peace of mind—  
No, charming Wife; no, dear Placentia, no,  
Thou shalt not beg in vain: I will return.  Kisses the Letter. 
But who comes here— My Friend Armando?  Enter Armando. Arm. 
Dear friend, I heard  
The conflict of your Passion, and my joys  
Are now complete, since Virtue gains the day.  Bas. 
Yes, dear Armando, the conflict is o'er,  
And I'm resolved to fly to my Plaencta  Arm. 
Cherish that Thought: By Heaven your Resolution  
Transports my Soul with joy!  
A kind, a verruous Wife waits your Embraces;  
A Wife, who like a Turtle mourns the absence  
Of her dear Mate. Haste then, my Friend, to drive  
That cloud of sorrow which o'recasts her mind,  
And, like the Sun, dispeli her gloomy thoughts:  Bas. 
Thanks for your Counsel—  
You like a God support my feeble Virtue.  
This very morning I'll prepare for Turin,  
Where time and absence will deface the image  
Of that bewitching Beauty; which now haunts  
My tortured mind— Yet, first I'll take my leave  
Of this fair Charmer— And Heaven grant  
That I may see her unconcerned—  Arm. 
My Lord what d' you mean?  
Have you well weighed the Danger of this Visit?  Bas. 
What Danger can there be?  Arm. 
Danger! my Lord— Consider well how feeble  
Our Reason is against the power of Beauty—  Bas. 
My Resolution's firm; no charm can shake it.  Arm. 
If not her Beauty, fear her Siren Tongue;  
Fear her endearing Prayers, her fond Reproaches,  
Her tender Sighs, her Vows, her trickling Tears.  
Nay— if all these prove vain, fear her Despair,  
A Woman, an abandoned Woman's Rage.  Bas. 
Were there more Dangers yet, I'll stand 'em all;  
My Honour bids me pay this parting Visit:  
My Heart shall have no share in what I'll speak.  
Trust me this once, and be yourself a witness  
Bassino can control unlawful love—  Arm. 
My Lord, 'tis with Regret I see you go.  
May Heaven assist you in this dangerous strife.  Exeunt.  

SCENE III.  Aurelia's Chamber; She in an Undress with Florella. Aur. 
No more of that— Cease thy ungrateful suit,  
Alonzo is a man I cannot love;  
I own he's witty, generous and brave;  
Has all the Charms that Nature can bestow  
To fire a woman's heart— Yet I'm insensible.  
His very sight chills all my trembling Spirits;  
Therefore, name him no more— I charge thee do not.  Flor. 
Madam, I've done— Yet shall I be permitted  
To ask a question? Are you then resolved  
ne'er to admit a Passion in your breast?  Aur. 
Oh! Dear Florella, press not a Confession,  
Which but too well my Eyes themselves disclose.  
Alas! I love— I love to such excess,  
That though I know I'm loved again, my mind  
Is still perplexed with doubts and jealous Fears.  Flor. 
You love and are beloved! Then sure you reach  
The height of humane bliss, and bounteous Heaven  
Can scarce give more— But who's the happy man,  
Is it not, Count Bassino?  Aur. 
Oh! Charming Name; there's Music in that sound!  
Yes, Count Bassino is the man I love:  
Canst thou now blame my coldness to Alonzo?  Flor. 
Forgive me, Madam, if I dare presume  
To speak my sentiments: I must confess  
Bassino is a man of excellent Virtue,  
His Education at the Court of Savoy  
Has still refined what he received from Nature;  
His Person too is Charming—  
And, what most women court, he has a Title.—  
But then consider you are unacquainted  
With his Estate, and though his Equipage  
Denotes an ample Fortune, yet we see  
Many a stranger here during the Carnival,  
Who makes a Figure by industrious Gaming.  
As for Alonzo, he was born at Venice,  
Of Noble Parents; his Estate, a large one—  
Even from his youth you had his amorous wishes,  
And as he grew in years his Love increased:  
You loved him too— Nay, which is more, your Father  
Approved your mutual Loves, and at his Death  
Bequeathed you to Alonzo.  Aur. 
Oh! my Florella, thou hast roused a thought,  
Which will for ever break Aurelia's rest.  
I know my Father's tenderness to me  
Made him confirm Alonzo's Suit, for than  
I loved Alonzo—  
But were my gentle Father still alive,  
I'm sure he would not cross my inclinations.  
But, Oh! name not my Father; I cannot bear  
The sad remembrance of so great a loss.  Weeps. Flor. 
But fear you not t'offend his peaceful Ghost,  
By breaking with the man he destined yours?  Aur. 
'Tis not my fault: and just Heaven must forgive  
What Heaven decrees— Yes, 'tis my cruel Stars  
That made my heart inconstant to Alonzo.  
'Tis with regret I break my plighted Faith;  
In vain I strive to check my new born Love,  
I cannot, cannot live without Bassino.  Flor. 
Madam, I wish your Passion ne'er prove fatal,  
But much I fear this inauspicious match.  Enter Bassino, Armanda. Aur. 
May Heaven avert th' unlucky Combination  
Of our presaging Thoughts For, know I tremble too—  
But here's the man that will dispel my fears.  Arm. to Bass. 
My Lord, remember  
To keep your Resolution.  Bas. to Arm. 
Yes— I will keep it—  [To Aurelia 
Madam, you will pardon  
A morning Visit, when you know what Reasons  
Pressed me to fix it on this early hour.—  
By Letters from the Court I was last night  
Commanded to return with speed to Turin,  
And thence set out for France, to represent  
My Sovereign Liege in solemn Embassy.  
This day I must prepare to take my Journey,  
Tho 'tis with killing Grief I leave my dear,  
My fair Aurelia—  [To Arm 
Now, my Armando.  Arm. 
My Lord, 'tis well: But still be on your Guard,  
The dreadful shock comes on—  Aur. 
This day be gone! What means my Lord? Oh! Heaven,  
My boding Fears are come to pass: I see  
A cloud of woes just ready to o rewhelm me.  
Is't possible! how can that form divine  
Harbour such Treachery! Is then Bassino false?  
Say, perjured man, how often did you swear  
This happy day should make you mine for ever!  
How can you now forget your solemn Vows?  
Why have I met with this inhuman usage?  Bas. 
Madam, my Prince's orders  
Are absolute: My Honour is concerned.  Aur. 
Must a vain Title be preferred to Love?  
But no— You never loved— 'twas base deceit.  
Cursed, cursed dissembling men! Their flattering tongues  
Can feign a Passion that will look like Love,  
Till by degrees they get us in their power;  
Then with bold impudence they draw the Vizor,  
And show the Cheat that mocked our credulous hopes.  
Faithless Bassino,  
How oft you swore your Love could ne'er expire:  
How oft you swore one smile of mine had charms,  
Even above the Glories of a Crown.  
Those were the Oaths I fondly did believe;  
Those words conveyed a Poison to my Heart,  
And even now I feel its mighty force:  
My Head turns giddy, and my trembling Knees  
Betray their sinking Burden—  
Alas! I faint, I die—  
She faints, Bassino runs and embraces her.  Bass. 
Oh! stay, my Love, my Life, my Soul, my all:  
The conflict's past, and I am thine again.  
But she is breathless! Oh! ye rigorous Gods,  
Give back her Soul, or let my own be plunged  
To dark Elysium— Oh! my dear Aurelia!  Hugs her. Arm. 
Is this your Resolution? By Heaven I blush  
To call you Friend. Your Wife, my Lord, remember  
Your Wife—  Bass. 
Curse on that name—  
Urge me no more to follow your Chimaeras,  
Lest you oblige me to break off that Friendship  
You blush to own— Oh! my Aurelia!  Arm. 
aside. How sweet is treacherous Vice! how eagerly  
Fond man pursues his Ruin!  
All Arguments were vain— yet still one way remains,  
Which cannot fail, to stop the progress of this impious love.  
His Wife by my Direction comes to Venice:  
Her sight will soon awake his slumbering virtue,  
At least it will retrieve Aurelia's senses.  Exit Armando. Aur. 
recovering. Where am I? where's my Lord, my fall Bassino?  Bass. 
Here, here my Soul, my chaming Dear.  Aur. 
thrusts him off. Hold off— Approach me not— urge not my Rage,  
Or with this Dagger I'll revenge my wrongs  
On thy perfidious Heart— But, Oh! his  
Heart's too hard  
Even for tempered Steel— Therefore I'll sheathe it here.  Offers at her breast: Bassino snatches the Dagger, and throws himself at her feet in a distracted manner Bass. 
Oh! hold— forbid it, Gods!  
I am the cursed Cause, and I must die.  
Oh! who could bear my Load of mortel Woe?  
Ye heavenly Powers bestow the stroke of Grace  
And rack Bassino: Let your vengeful Thunder  
Now crush my guilty head— Or thou, Oh! Parent Earth  
Open thy Bosom, and conceal my crime.  Tears the Ground. Aur. 
Is he then mine again!  falls down. 
Look up, my Lord, my Love, my life!  
My dear Bassino! 'Tis Aurelia calls.  
Let me for ever fold thee in my Arms,  
And beg thou'lt never speak of parting more.  Embraces him. 
Both rise, and embrace in an ecstasy.  Bass. 
Oh! never, never—  
The Poles shall meet, the Sun and Moon invert  
Their wonted motion ere I part from thee.  
I fondly tried how much I was beloved,  
And since you're true, my Bliss is now complete.  Aur. 
Was't but a Trial? Then my Griefs are vanished,  
And I am lost in Joy— Bassino's mine!  They embrace again. Bass. 
Thine, thine for ever: And this happy day,  
Shall end Aurelia's Fears— Ha—  
This day, said I, but where's Placentia then?  
My Wife Placentia? Little does she think  
What Baseness I intent— Oh! racking thought!  
But, 'tis resolved, I'll change nor think no more:  
I'll try to plunge, and reach the blissful Shore;  
And if I sink, yet still this Hope's my Friend,  
I'll snatch my Treasure ere my Course I end.  Aside. Aur. 
My Lord, what makes you pause?  Bass. 
The ravishing thoughts of mighty Joys to come,  
Kept me in Ecstasy and made me dumb;  
When on thy snowy Breast dissolved I lie,  
What Monarch can there be more blessed than I?  
Bassino leads her off with a languishing air.  Enter Alonzo. Alon. 
Sure, if my Eyes deceive me not, I saw  
Aurelia with the Count just parting hence.  
Dissolved in Love, and languishing they seemed.  
Damnation—  
I cannot bear the thought— I'll after 'em.  Alonzo going. Enter Florella. Flor. 
aside. Ha— Alonzo here! I must prevent a discovery.  Alon. 
Florella here! she comes opportunely— she may inform me of what I yet but fear— Good morrow, Florella: How fares my Love, my dear Aurelia?  Flor. 
Signior, good morrow; you are an early Visitant.  Alon. 
Not for a man in Love; but answer me, How does Aurelia?  Flor. 
Well in health— Only she's now and then in a little fit of Melancholy, such as usually proceeds from timorous doubts about that dreadful state of Matrimony: You know the time draws nigh that gives her to your arms.  Alon. 
By Heaven! 'Tis an Age, there's Six days yet to come.  Flor. 
An Age, indeed, if he knew all.  Aside. Alon. 
But haste, Florella: lead me to my Dear,  
She only can contract that tedious Age  
Of lingering pain, and soothe it with her smiles.  
Say, is she alone.  Flor. 
Yes— No—  
Oh! Heaven! What shall I say?  Aside. 
She's, She's a—  Alon. 
Ha— What means this faltering answer?  
All's is not right, and my suspicion's true.  Flor. 
Signior, my Lady is not dressed, and I shall displease her, in admitting even you without her leave.  Alon. 
Ha— not dressed— Take heed you mock me not:  
Nor think to blind me with your feigned Excuse.  
For in your guilty Face I read the Truth.  
Come, tell me who's with her? is't not Bassino?  Flor. 
Aside. Oh! Heaven! what shall I say?  Alon. 
Nay, nay, no Study: Lying will not do:  
I saw 'em part from hence, just now I saw 'em.  
Harkee, sweet Mistress, how long have you practised  
This Subtle Trade? I find you're much improved.  
Hell and Damnation— quickly, tell me  
What did Bassino give for his admittance?  
I'll double the Reward— but she's not dressed for me—  
Oh! damned, damned Sex!  Flor. 
Signior, what do you mean?  Alon. 
To see Aurelia— see her instantly—  
Nay, by Heaven! I will: All opposition's vain:  
For by th'avenging power of Love I swear,  
Tho' in Bassino's Arms I'll drag her thence,  
Only to cast her from my sight for ever:  
Nor shall he live to triumph in my shame.  
What though the Marriage Rites be not performed?  
Yet I may call her Wife— Her Father gave her to me:  
And her own Vows have fixed my heart in hers.  
Must then Alonzo be denied Admittance,  
Under that poor pretence that she's not dressed?  
Whilst base Bassino lies dissolved in pleasures  
On her perfidious Breast— Oh! Killing Thought.  
She makes my name of Husband infamous  
Even before the Priest has joined our Hands.  
I'll in, and if th'affront I tamely bear,  
May Heaven deny me at my latest Prayer.  Exeunt  

SCENE IU. Ludovico's Lodgings.  

Ludovico Solus.   Lud. 
Who waits?  Enter Mountain Mount. 
Did you call, Sir?  Lud. 
Mountain, run to Signiora Ronquilla, and tell her I have done with her for ever if she does not send this Evening the hundred Ducats she promised to lend me— And Harkee, as you come back acquaint Signiora Cornara I shall be busy to morrow, and desire she will put off her visit till another day.  Knocking at the Door Mount. 
Sir, there's somebody at the Door.  Lud. 
See who 'tis.  Mount. 
Sir, a Gentlewoman desires to speak with you.  Lud. 
A Gentlewoman! admit her— Well,  
'Tis a great Fatigue to oblige the whole Sex.  Enter Lucy. 
Oh! what news from your Lady?  Lucy. 
This will inform you Sir.  Gives him a Letter. Lud. 
Reads. Hum, hum, a Letter— Tho it may seem improper for one of my Sex to make the first steps in an Amour, yet you ought to consider that the rigorous consinement we are under all the Year round, may, in some measure, excuse the Liberties we take during the Carnival. If you have the Courage to meet me, I shall be at four in the afternoon in the Piazza d'Espagna, invisible to all but yourself.— Well, I believe all Women in Venice are wild for Gallants.  Lucy. 
Sir, What answer shall I return to my Lady?  Lud 
Aside. Egad— I am in doubt whether I shall throw my time away on this intrigue or no— Harkee Child, step into the next Chamber, and I'll answer your Message instantly—  Exit Lucy. 
Let me see— [Reads in his Table book] Monday, at two in the afternoon I am to meet Signiora Belleza at her Nurse's— She's a pretty Rogue, and so I'll go— At three of the Clock Signiora Dorinda the Senator's Wife at the Indian house— Pshaw, she's an old acquaintance,— I shan't go— ●t half an hour past three the Countess Wrinkle, who presented me with a Gold-hilted Sword— Silly Fool! Does she think I'll bestow one of my Visits on an old shriveled Piece of Antiquity, for a trifling Present, not worth above threescore Pistoles— At a quarter past four, my Sempstress Dorothy Steenkirk, who supplies me with Linen,— Oh! this Visit may be put off for a new Intrigue— And so Ill acquaint the Messenger.  Exit Ludovico.  
The End of the First Act.   


ACT II. SCENE I.  A Chamber in Signior Pizalta's House. Enter Lady Pizalta, Lucy. Lady Piz. 
DId you deliver my Letter to Ludovica, Lucy?  Lucy. 
Madam, I did; I found him in his study reading the Lover's Watch, which he swears does not at all agree with his Constitution. He hates injunctions of Love, like those of Penance: For the one, says he, is no more pleasurable to the Body, than the other beneficial to the Soul.  L. Piz. 
What a fine Gallant I'm like to have with these Principles! Well,— what did he say to a Summons from a Woman of my Quality? Did it not make him wish the Time of Assignation were sooner than the appointment in the Letter?  Lucy. 
He first humed over your Billet; and pausing a while, he desired me to stay for an Answer in a next Room; Then coming to me, he asked me what Countrywoman you were? For, said he, if she should prove an old Acquaintance, I would use her damnably— But when I had assured him you never saw the outside of these Walls, he began to have that desire which all men have to a new Face.  L. Piz. 
Very well; and what then?  Luc. 
He straight enquired whether you were black, brown, fair, old, young, maid, wife or widow? I told him you was a wretched Wife to an old, impotent, rich, covetous, noble Venetian; beautiful, young, generous, and of a fair Complexion. He hugged me at these words, seemed transported with the News, and swore that in intriguss a Wife was most suitable to his Temper; for, said he, there's neither Children to Father, nor Honour to repair: and where his Pocket and Liberty are safe, he is contented to venture his Body and Soul.  L. Piz. 
Excellent Maxims.  Lucy. 
In short, Madam, he says he has had several Bills of this Nature drawn upon him of late, and how much his stock may be exhausted he knows not; but however he'll meet you, and if he cannot answer your Expectation, he'll give you earnest.  L. Piz 
You talk merrily, Girl, I hope you did not tell my name. I should be loath to trust a man of his Character with my Reputation at first dash.  Lucy. 
No, Madam, I only told your Quality.  L. Piz. 
That's well: Oh! Reputation, what several sorts of Slavery do we undergo to preserve Thee! For to be thought Virtuous, we are forced to be constantly railing against Vice, though our Tongues and Maxims seldom agree.  Lucy. 
Alas! Madam, that Pretence is grown too common: for the Men now take it for granted, that a Lady is very near surrendering, when once she holds out that Flag of Defiance.  L. Piz. 
Well— Men use us very barbarously: They will neither suffer us to be honest, nor allow us to be thought so— Here take this Key, and secure every thing that concerns my Reputation: and if my Husband wakes ere I come back, you may easily find some excuse to prevent his Inquiries; for the Carnival allows us more Liberty, than at other times we dare pretend to— I know thy honesty; and will rely upon't.  Luc. 
Yes, indeed, Madam; I am honest at the bottom.  L. Piz. 
Well, I ll be gone: 'tis about the hour.  Ex. La. Piz. Enter Pizalto. Lucy. 
Goodluck attend you, Madam— Oh! Heavens! here's my Lord— Madam, Madam, Madam— Oh! Lord, what shall I say now she's gone?  Piz. 
Hist, hist, Lucy: Don't, don't, don't call your Lady, for I have a word or two to say to Thee in private, and have waited for this lucky opportunity a great while—  Lucy. 
aside. Now Venus be praised, I hope he has found some Business of his own that may give my Lady an opportunity to mind hers.  Piz. 
Well, Lucy, well,— canst thou guests my Business now?  Lucy. 
No, indeed, Sir— But I'm certain, and old Man's Business can't be great.  Aside. Piz. 
(Gives her a Looking-glass.) Here, Child, this will tell Thee—  
Look in't, look in't, I say— Ah! ah! Thou hast a pretty pouting  
Lip, a delicate roguish Eye; such an Ogle, such a Cast— Ah!  
Rogue— Faith, Thou'rt very pretty: and in short, if any one rival thy Lady, it will be Thee, Lucy— Egad, I have fire in me yet.  Lucy. 
aside. O'my Consclence, and little too, I believe: Yet I wish he has enough to serve my Ends, I'll make my Fortune— Lord Sir, what do you mean? I rival my Lady! Heaven forbid, I would not injure so good a Woman for the world—  Piz. 
Pshaw, pshaw— Where's the injury done to her, Child?  
Adod, I'll give thee a hundred Crowns.  Luc. 
No injury, say you, my Lord? Why, I wonder you should be so jealous of my Lady, and preach such religious Maxims to her, when your own Principles are quite opposite.  Piz. 
Look ye, Child, a Man may do that, which would look abominable in a Wife— A Woman's Reputation is a nice thing—  Lucy. 
'Tis so— And therefore 'tis but reason I should take care of mine.  Piz. 
Prithee, no more of that: thy reputation shall be safe; I'll marry thee to my Gentleman.  Lucy. 
Gentleman— Valet! Faugh— And what good will a hundred Crowns do me, when my Virginity is gone! indeed, if you loved me as much as you say, and would make my fortune, (for I should love extremely to be a Lady) I cannot tell how far you might persuade me— I know my Reputation would be safe in your hands.  Piz. 
Make thy fortune! Why, I've known some of our Nobles marry a Wife with less than a hundred Crowns— But, adod, thou'rt a charming Girl, and therefore I'll make it a hundred Pistoles— What sayst thou now.  Lucy. 
Ah! adod, I must buss thee; [kisses her] ah, Rogue, methinks I'm a young, lusty, vigorous Fellow again— Thou shall find I am, Girl.  Lucy 
aside. I believe I shall fail you, old Gentleman: Well, my Lord, make it up a thousand Pistoles, and I am yours, else I'll die die a Maid I'm resolved.  Piz. 
A thousand Pistoles! Why, thou'rt the most unconscionable  
Wench in Italy: Why 'tis a Price for a Duchess in some Countries:  
Come, come, prithee, be reasonable Lucy.  Lucy. 
Reasonable! Why you don't ask a reasonable thing— Look you, you know my mind, I'll not bate a Penny— I'll warrant my Lady will give me two hundred at least for my discovery.  going Piz. 
aside. Udslife! she won't tell my Wife sure, I'm ruined if she does, I'd rather give her two thousand— Hold, hold, Lucy: sweet Lucy, prithee, come back— Faith, thou'rt so charming, I can deny thee nothing— Come, it shall be what thou wilt— Come now Rogue, let's retire to thy Chamber—  Lucy. 
Nay, nay, no entering the Premises, till you have paid the Purchase.  Piz. 
Adod, Thou'rt a Wag— Come in then, and I'll discharge the Debt: Thou art a cunning Gipsy.  Exit Pizal. Lucy. 
You shall have reason to say so ere I have done with you, old Gentleman— For I am resolved to show you a Trick, and preserve my Verrue.  Aside. 
For did base Men within my Power fall,  
T' avenge my injured Sex, I'd jilt 'em all.  
And would but Women follow my advice,  
They should be glad at last to pay our Price.  Exit Lucy.  

SCENE II. The Piazza d'Espagna in Venice.  Enter Lady Pizalta sola. L. Piz. 
Not come yet! Ungrateful Man! must a  
Woman of my Quality wait?  
How have we lost our Power since the Creation?  
When the whole World had but one single Lord,  
Whom every Creature readily obeyed?  
Yet he, that mighty he, caught with a smile,  
Flew to th' embraces of the tempting Fair.  
But now each puny Sinner dares to cross  
A Woman's inclinations—  Enter Ludovico: 
Oh! are you come, Signior? I suppose you have  
Some other Assignation, that made you miss  
My hour— Pursue it pray— I'll not interrupt you— Your  
Servant—  Going. 
I hope he'll not take me at my word.  Aside. Lud. 
Nay, nay, Signiora, Why this Passion?  Stops her. 
You sent me a Challenge, and I like a man of Courage, am come to answer it— Pray don't let a quarter of an hour break squares—  
I own 'twas a Fault to make a Lady wait; but Friends, Madam, Friends, and good Wine are the Devil— Come, I'll make you amends.  L. Piz. 
Friends and good Wine! I suppose those Friends were female ones—  Lud. 
No, faith: You shall judge of that— But suppose they were— Why should you be angry that I did not fly with the desired haste, as long as I am come time enough to give you satisfaction— Besides, I han't seen your face yet, and for aught I know, it mayn't reward my Compliment in coming now— Prithee, Child, unmask, and then I'll tell thee more of my mind.  L. Pizal. 
The Devil take this fellow— and yet methinks I love him for his indifferency— aside] You talk as if you were unskilled in the Art of Love: Don't you know that Expectation feeds more than twenty tasted Pleasures?  Lud. 
Hum— some sort of Fops it may: But I'm none of those— I never give my opinion of a Dish till I've tasted Neither do I care to dine often on one sort of Meat without changing the Sauce— But when that Cloud's withdrawn, how long I shall keep my Resolution I know not.  L. Piz. 
Say you so! Why then the only way to preserve your Appetite is to feed you slenderly: or only let you see the food, but not to taste.  Lud. 
Faith, Madam, I'm no Chameleon, but Flesh and Blood—  
Therefore these Prescriptions are of no use— One sight of that dear  
Charming Face of yours, would be more obliging to your humble Servant.  L. Piz. 
unmasks. Well, Sir, what think you? is there any thing in this Face worth your regard?  Lud. 
Ah! By Heaven, an Angel— Oh! Madam, now blame yourself for my neglect, for had you sent the Picture of her, in whom all those Beauty's centre, I had in this place waited the coming of my Goddess, or rather flown on the Wings of eager Love, to meet my fair, though in the Arms of ten thousand Dangers— Say, my Charming Angel, do you forgive me? But why do I ask? your Eyes assure me you do; at least I'll force a pardon from these dear, soft, ruby lips. [Kisses her in ecstasy.  L. Piz. 
Hold, hold! Beened so lavish— a sparing Gamester is the likeliest to keep in stock— whilst a profuse hand at one cast throws all he has away.  Lud. 
To fear, that were to doubt your Charms, in which a Lover is sure to find constant supplies ●— But we lose time— Let's retire to my Lodgings, where I'll give thee the best proofs of my Love I can.  L. Piz. 
aside. Well! He's a charming Fellow— Oh! how happy are Wives in France and England, where such as he swarm!  Lud. 
Come, Madam, come— Why what do you mean by this delay? Consider I'm a man, a mortal, wishing, amorous man—  L. Piz. 
And consider I'm a Woman—  Lud. 
aside. Ay, ay: That I know: At least I hope to find you such— or I would not be in such haste—  Aside. L. Piz. 
And have a Reputation to preserve.  Lud. 
Oh! Lord, what a damned Turns here? Reputation, say you?  
Egad, I find all Women make pretence to that mysterious Word  aside. 
What! Are not you married, Madam?  L. Piz. 
Yes, what then?  Lud. 
Why then you have a Reputation to preserve— that's all.  L. Piz. 
All, Sir, Yes, and all in all to me— Do you consider what Country you're in, Sir?  Lud. 
Yes, Faith, Madam: and what constitution I am of too. I know Murder is as venial a Sin here, as Adultery is in some Countries; And I am too apprehensive of my mortal Part not to avoid Danger— Therefore, Madam, You have an infallible security— if I should betray You, I bring myself into jeopardy, and of all Pleasure's Self-Preservation is the dearest,  L. Piz. 
A very open Speaker, I vow.  Lud. 
Ay, Madam, that's best— Hang your creeping, cringing, whining, sighing, dying, lying Lovers— Pough! Their Flames are not more durable than mine, though they make more noise in the blaze  Sings. 
Hang the whining way of wooing.  
Loving was design d a sport.  Lady Piz. 
aside. The Deuce take me if this fellow has not charmed me strangely— Well, the Carn val is almost over, and then must I be shut up like a Nun again— hay! Hoa! This time will be so short—  Lud. 
Let's make the better use on't then, my Dear. We will consider when we have nothing else to do, but at present there's a matter of the greatest moment which I must impart to you— Therefore, come dear Rogue, come—  L. Piz. 
(Looking on her Watch.) Hold— I have outstaid my time, and must return home instantly to prevent discoveries.  Lud. 
Faith, Madam, this is not fair— To raise a man's Expectation, and then disappoint him! Would you be served so yourself now?  L. Piz. 
I'll endeavour to disengage myself from my jealous Husband, and contrive another meeting.  Lud. 
But will you be sure to meet me again?  L. Piz. 
I give you may Hand as a Pledge—  Lud. 
kisses her. And I this kiss in return— Adieu, my Charmer.  L. Piz. 
Signior, Farewell.  Exeunt severally. Enter Bassino, Alonzo. Rass. 
Well, Sir, Your Business—  Alon. 
It is to tell you—  
You are a Villain—  Bass. 
Ha—  Alon. 
And that as such  
jought to have treated you before the Face  
Of false Aurelia— But I scorn to follow  
The barbarous custom of my Native Country.  
I seek with Honour to revenge my wrongs;  
Therefore, Sir, draw—  Bass. 
This Action speaks you Noble— be likewise Just,  
And let me know the cause that moves your Anger.  
By Heaven I'd rather call you still my Friend,  
Than be your Enemy— Yet, if I wronged you,  
I'll give you satisfaction—  Alon. 
Trifler away— Too well Thou know'st the cause;  
And now wouldst soothe my wrongs with Flattery.  
But my Resolve is fixed as Heaven's Decrees:  
And one of us must fall— Let the Survivor  
Dispose of that base, false, perjured Aurelia;  
As both his Love and Honour shall direct.  
If my propitious Stars descend my Life,  
You shall not die alone— Th' adulterous Fair  
Shall bear you company— Now, Draw.  Bass. 
Oh! hold.  
One moment hold I must unfold this Riddle:  
Adulterous Fair, say you?  Alon. 
Yes: She's my Wife.  Bass. 
Ha— your Wife!  
Sure there's a curse entailed upon that name.  Aside. 
What! Your real Wife?  Alon. 
If the Command of an expiring Father  
And her own Vows can make her mine, she's so:  
Indeed the Marriage Rites are yet to come,  
Which slily she delayed these two Months past,  
On slight Pretence of finishing the time  
Of Mourning for her Father— But 'tis plain.  
I was a Property to your base Love:  
And only designed to fill up your Place,  
When surfeited you should return to Turin.  
Hell— Furies! Draw, or in my just Revenge,  
I'll pin you to the Earth—  Bass. 
Oh! Woman! Woman!  Aside. 
Yes, I will draw— But e'er the fatal stroke  
Is'past recall, I swear Aurelia's Virtue,  
Is clear and spotless like Diana's self:  
Nor was I prompted on this early visit,  
But with design to take my last Farewell:  
Having last night received my Prince's Orders  
To haste to Turin— Therefore if I fall,  
I hope she'll meet with Mercy— Now come on.  Alon. 
Hold, hold, My Lord; Oh! could I credit this,  
I would ask Pardon, and entreat your Friendship.  Bass. 
'Tis true, upon my Honour—  
But if you doubt my words, I'm ready—  
Tho' I have reason to decline this Combat,  
At least at present— Oh! Placentia!  Aside. 
Oh! my Placentia! why should I abuse Thee?  Alon. 
My Lord you seem disturbed—  Bass. 
Oh! Alonzo! Alonzo!  
Should I acquaint you with my wretched Fate,  
You'd find that life itself is grown a Burden,  
I cannot bear, since I can ne'er be happy.  
But 'tis a Story that must ne'er be told,  
Let it suffice to settle your repose,  
That Turin holds the cause of my misfortunes.  Alon. 
Then I am happy:  Aside. 
My Lord, I wish 'twere in my Power to serve you,  
I'd do it as a Friend—  Bass. 
Generous Sir, I thank you;  
As far as I am capable, I am Alonzo's.  Exit Alonzo. 
Oh! Force of treacherous Love! to gain my end,  
I wrong a Wife, a Mistress, and a Friend.  Exit Bassino.  
The End of the Second Act.   


ACT III. SCENE I.  
SCENE I. Aurelia's Lodgings.  Enter Aurelia, Florella. Aur. 
OH! how I tremble for my dear Bassino?  
Haste, fly Florella, bring me news he lives,  
Or else expect to see thy Mistress die.  Flor. 
Madam be patient—  
Consult your Reputation, and consider  
That the least noise you make on this occasion,  
Reflects upon your Virtue—  Aur. 
Away, away— Talk not of Reputation.  
When love's in t'other scale— But what can shock my Reputation.  
Heaven's my Witness I ne'er lodged a Thought,  
For Count Bassino that could wrong my Virtue.  
Perhaps the Gods pursue me with their Hatred,  
Because I break my Promise to Alonzo.  
But then, why did they not secure me his?  
Why must weak mortals be exposed to Passions,  
Which are not in our Power to subdue,  
And yet account for what they prompt us to?  
But I will think no more— Almighty Love,  
Now hear my last Resolve— if angry Heaven  
Refused to guard my dear Bassino's Life,  
Aurelia too shall fall, and leave his Murderer  
Accursed for ever—  Enter Alonzo. Flor. 
Oh! Heaven! where will this end?  Aur. 
Ha.—  Aside. 
The Gods have sent him to decide my Fate.  
How now! how dare you meet my angry view?  
Or think I'll e'er forgive the base affront,  
This very day you offered to my Fame?  Alon. 
Just Heaven refuses not a Penitent,  
Therefore I cannot think that fair Aurelia  
Whose Charms are all divine, should fail in Goodness.  
Oh! Let my Love atone for my rash Deed:  
The Count and I are Friends, why should Aurelia be more severe?  Aur. 
He lives! blessed News!  Aside. 
Do then rash Actions speak your Love to me?  
Must I in public bear with your insults  
Before I'm yours? what must I then expect  
When the strict Ties of Marriage shall confirm  
Your jealous Passions?  
No, you have taught me to avoid the shelf,  
I was just running on— know base Alonzo,  
That from this moment I resume my Freedom,  
I disengage you from your former Vows,  
And will henceforth be Mistress of myself.  Alon. 
Ha—  Aside. 
This sudden Coldness has another Spring,  
Than my rash Carriage— Oh! my jealous Fears,  
But I'm resolved to trace her winding Thoughts,  
And fetch the secret forth—  
Madam, I hope you do but try my Love:  
I cannot think Aurelia would be false.  
Besides, you can't recall what's registered in Heaven.  Aur. 
Then stay till we come there— There you'll have witness.  Alon. 
Witness!  
Oh! Faithless, perjured Woman canst thou think,  
Upon thyself and bid me call my Witness?  
Yes, you are mine— By all the Gods, you are.  
And shall there be a Power on this side Heaven,  
To stop my Bliss? No— by my Love I swear.  
I now can guests at your perfidious meaning,  
And though that cowardly Villain slily thought  
To blind me with a Tale his guilt had framed,  
'Tis plain he is your Minion— yet wants Courage  
To own his Treachery.  Aur. 
Detracting, Slanderous Villain!  
How dare you treat me thus?  
Oh! for the look of a fierce Basilisk,  
To punish this audacious insolence!  Alon. 
Marry thee! No— by Heavens, I had rather  
Be racked to Death— And for thy vile injustice  
None shall enjoy thee, while this sword is mine. Lays hold on his Sword.  
Nor shall your Lover scape to serve your lust,  
Till he has forced a Passage thro' this Breast. Points to his Breast.  Aur. 
Oh! My Bassino.  Aside. 
Oh! cruel Man! Are not you then contented  
To wreak your Spite on poor Aurelia?  
Why must your Rage involve the innocent?  
Oh! Let me fall your Passion's Sacrifice;  
Let my Blood wash the stain you fix on me,  
But do not blast your Name with base Revenge.—  Alon. 
By Heaven! she dotes on him! Oh! Cunning Woman?  
But this Pretence won't serve to save his Life;  
I'll not be caught again— No, Siren No:  
Bassino dies— Nor will I leave to Fortune  
The vengeful stroke, but take a safer way.  Aur. 
Oh! Heaven!  Aside. Kneels. 
What words shall I invent to soothe his Rage,  
And save my dear Bassino? Oh! Alonzo  
My once loved Dear, will you not hear me speak?  
Oh! I conjure you by our plighted Love's,  
Whose purity outshone the Stars above,  
Hear me this Time, then use me as you please.  Alon. 
Oh! Woman, Woman!  Aur. 
If e'er Aurelia  
So much as in her thoughts did wrong Alonzo  
May sudden Death pursue her purjured steps:  
Heaven forgive  Aside. 
The Perjury, since I've no other way  
To Save Bassino's Life—  Alon. 
Aurelia. rise—  Raising her. 
Oh! could I credit this, how happy were Alonzo!  
But something tells me that thou art forsworn;  
And yet thou seemest as fair as Truth itself:  
How is it possible that Guilt can look  
With so a divine a Face?  Aur. 
Oh kill me instantly: kill me, I beg you, kill me;  
Let me not linger out an Age in pain;  
For such is every Moment of your Anger;  
I cannot bear to to live in your displeasure.  Alon. 
By Heaven she's true—  
Hence frivolous fears be gone- she's only mine.  
Come to my Breast, my bright Aurelia, come.  Embraces her. 
To that soft shrine that holds that Sacred image,  
Which triemphs o'er my soul, and grasps it all.  
I knew my boundless Treasure, and the Thought  
Of losing thee had raised my love to Madness.  
But now I'm calm— No more shall that fierce Passion,  
Rude Jealousy disturb my peaceful mind.  
Do but forgive the Faults my Rage committed,  
And you will find our Loves will grow the purer;  
Just as the Sky looks brighter when the storm  
Is chased away, and Phoebus smiles again.  Aur. 
Since both have been to blame, let it suffice,  
We both repent, and will offend no more.  Alon. 
Oh! never, never.  
I'll ne'er suspect you more— Only resolve me this—  Aur. 
What's it?  Alon. 
Why was Bassino  
Admitted to your View, and I denied?  Aur. 
He came to take his leave, and 'thad been rude.  
Not to admit a man of his high Birth  
On this occasion: Nor was you denied,  
But thro' my Woman's Fears of your suspicions.  
She thought you would misconstrue the Count's Visit,  
As you have really done— I blamed her for it  
Indeed, this is the Truth— I hope Alonzo  
Believes me now—  Alon. 
Believe Thee! Yes— As willingly as Martyrs  
A State of endless Joy.  
I will so love my Dear, that all Mankind  
Shall look with envy on our mutual bliss.  
I'm like a Merchant tossed at Sea by storms,  
Who his last Course with Pray'ts and Toil performs.  
And the rich Cargo safely brought on shore,  
He hugs it thus, and vows to part no more.  (embraces her) Aur. 
aside. So in a flowery Mead a Serpent lurks,  
And the unwary Traveller surprises,  
Where he suspects least danger! Cursed Cheat.  Aside. 
Oh! that I could disclose the fatal story!  
But it must never out— I beg Alonzo,  
You'd leave me for a while, and rest secure,  
You have my Love—  Alon. 
Then the bright Sun in all his circling Turn,  
Cannot behold a man more truly happy:  
What you command I readily obey.  
Farewell, my dear.  Exit Alonzo. Aur. 
Where art thou now, Aurelia?  
How wilt thou scape that dreadful Precipice,  
On which thou art hurried on by thy fatal Passion?  
With conscious horror I deceived Alonzo,  
I hate this base Treachery, but 'twas unavoidable:  
The truth had been more fatal—  
More fatal?— No— For I must never Wed  
My dear Bassino whilst Alonzo lives.  
Oh! the distracting thought! what shall I do?  
Why! die Aurelia: That's the only way,  
To keep thy vows to both— Ha— die, said I,  
But whither then? who knows what Punishment,  
Just Heaven prepares for guilty Souls like mine.  
But I must think no more, lest I grow mad with thought.  
If there's a Power that guards us here below,  
Oh I look with pltying eyes on poor Aurelia:  
Appease the Tumults of my anxious Fear,  
And load me with no more than I can bear.  Exeunt Aurelia, Florella.  

SCENE II. Lady Pizalta's Lodgings.  L. Piz. 
Well, Thou'rt an admittable Girl! What would half the Ladies in Venice give for such a Servant?  Lucy 
aside. Truly, you have reason to say so, for 'tis not the first Intrigue I have managed for you— Oh! dear Madam, your Ladyship does me too much honour— But how do you like your new Servant, Madam?  L. Piz. 
Oh! above all men living, Lucy: He has the most bewitching Conversation I ever met with— Say, is there no way to contrive a second meeting? For I'm impatient till I see the dear man again— The end of the Carnival draws near, which is indeed the end of Life to me: for than must I be cooped up with age: condemned to an eternal coughing, spitting, snoring and ill nature— Then let me make the best of life— since Hell cannot have a worse plague in store than I have felt already.  Luc. 
Indeed, Madam, I pity you: and wish 'twere in my Power to free you from this old, withered log, but though that's impossible, yet I may do you some little services to make life's tedious journey pleasant— Let me see, I have it— What would you say now, Madam, if I should contrive a way to have your Lover in your own Chamber?  L. Piz. 
That were worth a King's Revenue— Speak, quickly, how, how, good Lucy?  Luc. 
Why, thus: He shall put on my clothes, and in my place attend you.  L. Piz. 
Rare contrivance; but my Husband, Lucy?  Luc. 
Oh! let me alone, Madam, to manage him: He is defective in sight, you know; and not mistrusting any thing, will not be over curious: But if he should, I have a way to bring you off— My life on't— This Plot may be of use to my design, I'll manage it with care.  Aside L. Piz. 
Oh! The Pleasure of hearing my Husband lie coughing, and calling me to Bed: and my answering him, I'm coming, Dear: and while he imagines me in the next Room undressing, I'm happy in the Arms of my Ludovico. Certainly there's as much satisfaction in deceiving a dull jealous Husband, as in getting a new Gallant: Were it not grown so common— Each Tradesman's Wife must have her Gallant too— and sometimes makes a Journey man of the Apprentic: ere his Indentures be half out— 'Tis an unsufferable Fault that Quality can have no Pleasure above the Vulgar, except it be in paying their deb s. Well, dear Lucy, I admire thy contrivance— Ab ut it instantly—  Lucy 
aside. About it instantly! is that all? I must have my t'other Fee sir?  
— I will, Madam; and you may expect your Lover instantly. But,  
Madam, what's to be done with your Brocade Night Gown you tore last night? it can ne'er be mended handsomely.  L. Piz. 
Nothing to be done without a Bribe I find, in Love as well as Law— Well Lucy, if you manage this intrigue with care and secrecy the Gown is yours.  Enter Page. Page. 
Madam, my Lord desires to speak with you.  Lucy 
Madam, I'll go about your business: Your Ladyship's very humble servant.  Exit Lucy. L. Piz. 
Tell him I'm coming—  Exit. Page. 
Now by way of Mortification must I go entertain my old, jealous Husband.  Exit Lady Pizalta.  

SCENE III. The Piazza.  Enter Ludovico Singing. 
Give me but Wine, that liquour of Life,  
And a Girl that is wholesome and clean,  
Two or three Friends, but the Devil a Wife,  
And I'd not change state with a King.  Enter Lucy. Luc. 
What singing, Signior! Well, you're a pleasant Gentleman—  Lud. 
Ah! My little female Mercury, what message bringst Thou?  
Ha— will thy Lady bless me with another sight— Ha— How—  
When? where? I am all in a Flame.  Luc. 
Come along with me, Sir, I'll help you to an Extinguisher presently.  Lud. 
If Thou meanest thy Lady with all my heart— But I can tell Thee, she'll rather prove Oil, than what you speak of— But, say, where am I to see my lovely Charmer?  Lucy. 
In her Chamber—  Lud. 
Good! But how the Devil can that be done?  Lucy. 
Nay, without the help of a Conjurer, I assure you: if you dare take me for your Pilot, I'll warrant you success in your Voyage— I'll set you safe in the Island of Love; 'tis your business to improve the Soil.  Lud. 
I warrant Thee, Girl; do you but bring me there once, and if I play not my part, may I never more know the pleasure of an intrigue  Luc. 
Which, if I mistake not, is the greatest curse can fall on you—  
Well, you must suffer a small Metamorphosis: What think you of personating me a little? That is, dressing in my clothes, and waiting on your Mistress in her Bedchamber— Ha—  Lud. 
Egad, I'm afraid I shall make but an awkward Chambermaid.  
I'm undisciplined in Dressing a Lady's head—  Lucy. 
Oh! Sir, your Commission won't reach so high as the head: I believe my Lady will excuse little matters: You can undress, I suppose  Lud. 
Oh! The best and the quickest of any man in Venice. Buta Pox on't— Canst find no other way?— I, I, I— I like Petticoats in their proper Places, but I don't care to have my Legs in 'em.  Luc. 
And so you resolve against it! Ha—  Lud. 
No, not absolutely resolve, Child: But— a—  Lucy. 
But what, Sir!  Lud. 
Nothing— I will follow thy Directions, what ever comes on't  
Now lead the way: for nothing suits better with my Humour than a Friend, a Bottle, a new Mistress, and a Convenient Place.  Ex. Lucy Ludovico.  

SCENE IU. Pizalto's Lodgings.  Enter Pizalto with a Bond in his Hana Piz. 
Well— My Wife's a fine Woman, a very fine Woman! But a Pox she's a Wife still, and this young Jade runs in my head plaguly: Well— here 'tis under my hand; a Thousand Pistoles— A great samm for a Maidenhead, as Maidenheads go now a-days— Ah had I been young now,  
A Fiddle and a Treat had boar the Prize away,  
But when we old Fools dote, they make us pay.  Enter Lucy. 
Oh! are you come! Here, here, Lucy: Here's a Fortune for thee worth twenty Maidenheads, adod! I have not so much money by me at present, but there's security.  Gives her the Rond. Luc. 
Your Lordship's Bond's sufficient— Well, but that I am satisfied my Reputation is safe with your Lordship, or twice the sum should not have prevailed— Go to my Chamber, my Lord, I'll but step and see if my Lady wants any thing, and I'll be with you instantly.  Piz. 
You won't stay, Lucy? Ah Girl, buss thy Lady's Chucky; now do, now—  Lucy. 
Oh! Lord! not here, we shall be discovered.  Piz. 
Will, thou art a cunning sinner: make haste, Lucy, dost hear?  Ex. Piz. Luc. 
You're in mighty haste, old Gentleman! but I shall deceive you,  
My end is gained; I have my Fortune made,  
Man has not me, but I have man betrayed.    


ACT IV. SCENE I.  
SCENE I. Armando's Lodgings.  Enter Armando, Placentia. Plac. 
OH! Armando!  
Thou more than Friend to the distressed Placentia!  
Say, how shall I regain my lost Bassino,  
My false, perfidious Husband?  Weeps. Arm. 
Dear Madam, moderate your sorrow:  
Reserve those Tears to move Bassino's heart,  
Mine is all Pity: You may rest secure  
Of all the Arguments a Friend can use  
To bring him back to your endearing Arms.  
virtue's not quite extinguished in his Breast,  
Therefore I hope the sight of bright Placentia  
Will rouse his slumbering Reason—  Plac. 
Oh! Bassino! Bassino!  
Oh! wretched woman! Oh! that I had died  
ere I had known him false: Then I were happy:  
And, though contented with his second choice,  
He with a pitying sigh perhaps had graced  
My memory—  
Oh! all ye Powers that Virtuous Love inspire,  
Assist me now: inform my vocal Organs  
With Angel Eloquence, such as can melt  
His heart of Flint, and move his former kindness.  
(Aside.) But if that fail, I will remove the cause  
Of both our woes— Yes, that happy Charmer,  
That Rival of my Love shall surely die.  Arm. 
Doubt not of the success: What Heart of Steel  
Could e'er resist such Beauty dressed in Tears?  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Sir, Count Bassino inquires if you are within.  Plac. 
Oh! Heavens! how I tremble!  Arm. 
Lucky opportunity— show him up.  
Madam, be pleased to step into that Closer,  
Till I can sound the utmost of his Thoughts,  
And show him naked to your secret view.  
Then when he's in the height of impious Passion,  
You like a Bolt from Heaven shall rush on him,  
And strike his Folly dumb.  Plac. 
Almighty Powers, whose Providential Care  
Is ever kind to virtuous innocence,  
Oh! help me now in this Extremity.  Exit Placentia. Enter Bassino. Bass. 
How does my Friend Armando?  Arm. 
My Lord, Armando's well,  
And wishes you were so.  Bass. 
Dost thou discover aught that gives thee cause  
To doubt I am not well? indeed, I think  
I am in perfect health—  Arm. 
My Lord, I should be glad  
To find that Fever of your mind abated  
In which I left you last—  Bass. 
aside. I must dissemble now,  
Else I'll ne'er gain my ends— My dear Armando,  
That Fever, thou speakest of, is now succeeded  
By a cold Ague fit: The bare Remembrance  
Of my unlawful Passion shakes my soul.  Arm. 
such sudden Cures have often proved pernicious,  
And we have reason to suspect a wound  
Too quickly healed—  Bass. 
Not when thou knowest what Balsam I applied.  Arm. 
There's scarce a Balm for the deep wounds of love,  
Besides Possession, and I cannot think  
You have enjoyed Aurelia.  Bass. 
I swear I have not—  
But I enjoy my Reason: my free Reason:  
And who possesses that, can never cherish  
A thought against himself: For such I call  
Whatsoever keeps me from my lawful Wife,  
My dear Placentia, to whose Arms I'll fly  
With all the eager haste of a fond Bridegroom.  
There I shall revel in the virtuous Pleasures  
Of a chaste Bed— Oh! my Friend Armando!  
My dear Placentia's Friend! Canst Thou forgive?  
Indeed, I'm penitent and will offend no more.  Arm. 
My Lord, these are the words you spoke before:  
What greater Reason have I now to think  
You'll keep your promise?  Bass. 
Pride, Honour, Justice are come to my Aid,  
And Love too feeble to withstand 'em all,  
Has left the Field to my victorious Reason.  
Pride, with the prospect of my future greatness,  
Allures me to return with speed to Turin.  
T' obey my Prince's Orders.  
Honour and Justice tell me I'm Placentia's,  
And that Aurelia is Alonzo's Bride.  
To him she gave her Virgin Vows: Nay, more,  
To him her dying Father did bequeath her;  
He loves her too, and shall not be deprived.  
My Passion is subdued, and I'm resolved  
Myself to give Aurelia to Alonzo.  Arm. 
If this be true, than you are my Friend again:  
But how came you to learn Aurelia's  
Engagement to Alonzo?  Bass. 
I have it from himself, who an hour since,  
With eager Fury sought to ' venge on me  
His injured Love, and ohallenged me to fight:  
I chose with Justice to defend my Life,  
And quit Aurelia, rather than to vanquish in such a Cause— Alonzo straight embraced me,  
Called me his Friend, and vowed I should not go,  
Till I had seen him joined in solemn Marriage  
With bright Aurelia— This I readily granted.  
Canst thou believe me true?  Arm. 
My Lord, I do believe you—  
And am o'er joyed to hear your Resolution:  
By Heaven! There's more Glory in subduing  
Our wild desires, than an embattled Foe.  
Now do I wish his Wife had never come.  Aside. Bass. 
Armando, Thou'rt my Friend, and on that score  
I must desire you to repair to Turin,  
With all the speed you can, to bear these Letters  
To our great Prince: and beg he will excuse  
My stay for three days more— And here this Letter  
Bear to Placentia— speak to her the kindest  
The softest things thy fancy can suggest.  
I shall make good thy promise—  
My dear Placentia! Oh! that she were here  
Panting and warm within these longing Arms!  
'Tis a long Age since I did see her last!  
But come, my Friend, you must this hour set forward.  Arm. 
With all my Heart: But 'twill not be amiss  
Before I go to fix the Victory  
Which conquering Virtue in your Breast has gained;  
And if what you pretend be real Truth,  
I have a welcome present for Bassino.  
Madam, come forth—  Enter Placentia. Bass. 
What do I see! My Wife! This was a lucky Plot:  Aside. 
Hypocrisy did ne'er befriend me more. H—  
This was not like a Friend— why should Armando  
Disturb her soft Tranquillity of mind,  
And give her ocular Proofs of my Dissoyalty?  
Oh! my Placentia! my beloved Wife! Embraces her.  
Oh! That I should e'er think to wrong my Dear!  Pla. 
My Lord, waste not a sigh on my account:  
My Joys are infinite since you are mine,  
And what is past I easily forget.  
Nay, let me beg for Pardon: for I know  
I have offended you in coming hither.  
I should have waited this Return of Virtue:  
Or if abandoned, silently have mourned  
My loss, without upbraiding my loved Lord.  
All this I should have done, but mighty Love,  
Too powerful for Duty to withstand,  
Guided my steps to Venice—  
In hopes my presence would retrieve your Heart.  Bass. 
Gods! That this Woman were Aurelia!  Aside. 
Thou wonder of thy Sex! Thou best of Women!  
I blush to think that thou hast heard my Folly:  
Yet since your love cancels your just camplaints,  
You make me doubly blessed: and I'll reward  
This excellent Goodness with eternal Fondness.  
Oh! that thou hadst been here! Not all the Beauties  
That Venice holds could have diverted me,  
No, not one moment from my dear Placentia.  
Long absence is the Bane of new born Love,  
But Fate shall ne'er have power to part us more.  Plac. 
Oh! My dear Lord, your Goodness is too great:  
And I'm o're-paid for all my sorrows past.  
Armando, say, is not he wondrous kind?  Arm. 
Madam, I told you Virtue  
Was struggling in his Breast, and that it might  
O'ercome his Vicious Love, I thought your presence  
Was requisite— And now, My Lord, I hope  
You will forgive me, since all the Endeavours  
I used before had been in vain. I once  
Designed to let Aurelia know you. Marriage.  
But then perhaps she would not have believed me:  
Let this plead my Excuse in sending for Placentia.  
Without your knowledge.  Bass, 
I must not let him see I am concerned.  Aside. 
I know 'twas Friendship all, well meaning Friendship:  
Fonly am to blame: But I'll retrieve  
My Credit in your Heart, and still deserve  
The Name of Friend— And thou the best of Wives,  
Shalt ne'er have cause to doubt my constant Love.  Plac. 
Oh! My Bassino! This Excess of kindness.  
Exalts me o'er all mortals, if you're true  
There's not a blast within the Power of Fortune  
Can shock my Happiness.  Bass. 
Thou shalt ne'er find me False, I swear Thou shalt not.  
Oh! that I could engage  
She would return to Turin with Armando;  Aside. 
For if she stays I never can enjoy  
My bright Aurelia, and by Heaven I will,  
Although ten thousand lives should pay the Purchase.  Pla. 
My Lord, you seem disturbed.  Bass. 
It troubles me  
You can't appear in Venice with a Train  
That may bespeak the Rank you hold in Savoy.  Plac. 
to Armando. Oh! Armando!  
He is so kind, I wish I ne'er had come!  
What if I offer to return with you?  Arm. 
Madma, you will do well:  
For I myself cannot suspect him now:  Plac. 
My Lord, let not my Presence here disturb you,  
I doubt your Love no more, and to convince you,  
I will go back before 'tis known I'm here.  
Besides, 'tis fit I should prepare all things  
To welcome you at home.  Bass. 
aside. Blessed opportunity!  
Fortune I thank thee: Would my Dear then leave me  
So very soon? Alas! 'twill be an Age  
ere I return to Turin: Three long days;  
No, my Dear, no; I will not part from thee,  
At least this night, my Love—  Plac. 
Will then Armando stay?  Bass. 
No, my best Hopes, he instantly departs  
With Letters to my Prince.  Plac. 
Then suffer me to go this very moment.  
Three days will soon be o'er, and you're return,  
Shall make me fully blessed— if I should stay  
'Twould look like base distrust, and I can't think  
Bassino would be false—  Bass. 
aside. Oh! Heaven! that I were not!  Arm. 
Indeed, my Lord, I think your truly happy.  
Scarce does an Age produce so good a Wife.  Bass. 
Oh! that I could reward this wondrous Goodness!  Plac. 
My Lord, what makes you sigh?  Bass. 
To part from thee: But since 'tis your desire  
It shall be so. Armando, to thy charge  
I here commit the Treasure of my Soul,  
Takecare of her, and think that on her safety  
My Life depends.  Arm. 
My Lord, I hope you do not doubt my care.  Bass. 
Dear Friend, I do not—  
May Heavens Blessings still attend my Love,  Embraces, & goes to lead her off. 
My dear Placentia.  Plac. 
As many more guard my Bassino.  Bass. 
aside. A sudden horror seizes all my Limbs:  
I tremble at the thought of this base Deed—  Pulls out his Handkerchief and drops a Letter, which Armando takes up. 
Ha— Tears uncalled for bathe my guilty Eyes—  
Gods! either give me virtue to withstand  
This impious Love, or dourage to pursue it  
Without Remorse: for I'm but half a Villain.  Exeunt Bassino, Placent. Arm. 
Opens the Letter. A Letter!— And to Aurelia! Now curiosity prompts me to know the subject— What's here?  
Reads. I have dispatched Armando to the Court of Savoy, and found pretence to stay behind—  
False, treacherous Man!  
This night I give a Mask at my Lodgings, which, I hope will divert Alonzo till the Priest has joined our hands; and while all the Company are engaged in mirth, I'll steal to the dear Arms of my Divine Aurelia.  
Oh! Villain, Villain! Monstrous Villain!  
Oh! Poor Placentia! But I will prevent  
His Policy, and break his wicked Measures.  Exit Armando.  

SCENE II. Pizalta's Lodgings.  Enter Pizalto solus. Piz. 
Why, what makes this young Jade stay so long? Adod, This is to pay beforehand— Ha— Methinks I hear a laughing and giggling in my Wife's Apartment; I must know whence their Mirth proceeds. Ho! Here's Lucy coming— Harkee you, pray, why did you make me wait so long? Nay, I'm resolved you thaned scape me now— [Goes to the door, and pulls in Ludovico, in Lucy's Cloatbs', whose Commode falls off in the streggie, and discovers his bald head.] Oh! Benedicite! What have we here? A man dilguised in my Wife's Chamber! And I unarmed! Oh! Cursed Minute!— Speak, Thou wicked Prophet, Thou Son of Iniquity, what can est Thou here for? Ha— Thou Priest of Baal, to offer Sacrifices on the Altar of my Wife? Oh! My head! My Hores weigh it down to the ground already— Within there, bring me my Sword and Pisto's.  Lud. 
A Pox on all Petticoats— What a Devil shall I say now! Oh! for a Sword! That would be of more use to me now than my Tengue.  Enter Lady Pizilta. Piz. 
Oh! Thou wicked Salacious Woman!  L. Piz. 
What ails my dear Chucky? Why dost Thou call for Arms, Deadly  Piz. 
To cut down that vile Creeper, which overruns thy Garden of Virtue—  L. Piz. 
aside. Now Impudence assist me.  
Ah!— Heavens! What's here? A man in disguise? A Thief it must be  
— Raise the Servants— Oh Heaven! we might have had all our  
Throats cut in our Beds— Now for Lucy, for I am at a loss to come off  aside. Piz. 
No, no, I warrant, you know he is more gentle in Bed.  Lud. 
aside. Oh! the Devil, what does she mean? Death, Hell and Furies! if I come off now, catch me at this sport again and hang me—  Enter Lucy. L. Piz. 
Oh! are you there, Mistress? how came this man here in your clothes? ha— Gentlewoman—  Lucy 
aside. How confidently she asks the question, poor Lady! as if she knew nothing of it! Now must I bring her off—  
For Reasons you must not know, Madam.  Piz. 
Ah! Thou wicked pair of Bellows to blow the Fire of Iniquity!  
Why thou art the very Casement thro' which thy Mistress sucks the Air of Abomination— Tell me, I say, how he came here, and for what— and be sure it be a substantial Lie, or 'twill not pass.  Lud. 
aside. All my hopes are in her impudence.  Luc. to Pizal. 
Harkee, Sir, one word with you— Do you remember our agreement to night?  Piz. 
Why, what of that? ha—  Lucy. 
Then imagine what I designed that Gentleman for: I'm honest, Sir, that's all—  Piz. 
I'm honest, Sir, that's all— Mimicking her tone.  Piz. 
Honest! with a Pox— What! and so you honestly provided a Companion for my Wife in my absence— ha—  Lucy. 
No, Sir, I designed him for your Companion in my absence—  
This is the business he was dressed for: Therefore no more words, but believe my Lady honest, or all shall out.  Piz. 
Oh! The Devil! This shan't pass, Hussy— Do you think I'll be Cuckold, jilted, bubbled, and let it pass for a Christmas Gambol.  
Adod give me my Bond again, or— or—  Holds up his Gane. Lucy. 
No— hold there, Sir: Women and Lawyers ne'er refund a Fee:  
But 'tis your best way to be patient now, I'll not take Blows.  L. Piz. 
Why, all this whispering? why mayn't I know the business?  Piz. 
I am mistaken if you have not known too much Business already:  
But I am tight enough served— I had more ground before than I could manage; I had no need of my Neighbour's.  Lucy. 
Right, my Lord; Ground that lies fallow will breed Weeds in time: but yours is clear yer.  Piz. 
Damn your Jests: I shall expect a better account, do you hear? I'll find a Servant to see you out of doors to Ludovico.  Exeunt Pizalta and Lady. Lud. 
Well, this was an admirable Lift at a pinch— She has brought me off now— And if e'er they catch me at this Music again, I'll give 'em leave to make an Italian Singer of me— No more intrigues in Disguise— if it had not been for the Waiting-woman now, I might have been hanged for a thief.  Lucy. 
What all amort, Signior, No courage lest?  Lud. 
Faith, not much— I think I have lost my Manhood with my Breeches— This transformation may suit with Gods, but not with Mortals of my Humour— Come, prithee, good Mistress Lucy, help me to my proper shape again, for though I have a natural inclination to Petticoats, I hate'em upon my own Back.. A Flourish of Music within.  Lucy. 
Hark! I hear Count Bassino's Music: He gives a Mask to night, you are already dressed for Masquerade, won't you stay and take a Dance?  Lud. 
Egad, I'd rather dance a jig with Thee elsewhere:  
Faith Thou'rt a pretty Girl— And hast a good deal of wit too—  
But then pox on't Thou'rt honest, Thou sayest thou cannot swallow a  
Pill except 'tis gilded o'er with Matrimony.  Lucy. 
Hum— And that turns your Stomach I warrant.  Lud. 
Why, Ay: Faith my Stomach is damned squeamish in these Matters: Yet, Egad if I could find one with half as much Money as Thou hast. Wit and Beauty, I'd Marry, and live honest.  Lucy. 
That is, you'd marry her Money—  Lud. 
One with the other, Child: There's no living upon Love thou knowest— Tho Faith I could Love well enough too.  Lucy. 
Well, suppose I help you to a Lady with a round sum, you'd keep your word and marry her?  Lud. 
I am a Gentleman, I scorn to break my word.  Lucy. 
Well, Sir, come to the Mask, and I'll engage you a Mistress, if you are not overcurious.  Lud. 
With all my Heart:  
I'm now resolved to leave this Wenching-Trade.  
For no Man's safe upon a Hackney Jade:  
Th'Allay of danger makes the Pleasure Pain,  
A Virtuous Wise will always be the same.  Exeunt   


ACT V. SCENE I.  A Mask in Bassino Lodging. Bassino, Alonzo, Armando in a disguise; Placentia in Man's clothes; Signior Pizalto, Lady Pizalta, Lucy, etc. An Entry of three Men, and three Women of several Nations. Bass. 
I Can't imagine where I dropped my Letter:  
Pray Heaven it be where none can ever find it.  
Gods! Let me once enjoy her, then call on me  
Your store of Plagues, and I will meet 'em all.  Enter Ludovico singing. Lud. 
Ah! Mistress Lucy! I'm come thou seest— I expect thou shalt be as good as thy word, Child— is the Lady here?  Luc. 
The Lady is forth coming if you are still in the same mind?  L. Piz. 
My Lover here! Harkee Lucy.  Lucy. 
By and by, Madam, I am catering for myself now— Well, Sir, will two thousand Pistoles do?  Lud. 
I must humour her— Aside.] Ay, Child.  Lucy. 
Why then I take you at your word, Sir, and can produce the aforesaid sum— To Piz. With a little of your assistance, my Lord.  Lud. 
aside. Hum— A pretty Wife I am like to have— Catch me there if you can—  Piz. 
Ha— How's that?  Lud. 
How! Mistress Lucy worth two thousand Pistoles?  Lucy. 
Ay: And I have a very good Paymaster for one half of it too—  
Do you know this hand, my Lord? To Pizalta. (shows the Bond)  Piz. 
aside. Confound your jilting snear.  Lud. 
Ha, ha, ha— What, a thousand Pistoles a Dish, my Lord?  
I hope you don't change often, ha— ha—  Piz. 
Hussy, I'll be revenged— 'Tis all false, 'tis counterfeit.  Lucy. 
Ha— ha— But it had been current Coin, if I had suffered you to put your stamp upon't— in my Bed chamber, my Lord—  L. Piz. 
How Mistress, have you tricked my Husband out of a thousand Pistoles, and never told me of it?  Lucy. 
Nay, Madam, don't frown— Remember you have tricked him out of something too, which I never told him of— Don't urge me to more Discoveries.  Lud. 
aside. So— Here's Trick upon Trick: But, faith, you shall never trick me out of my Liberty. I'm not so fond of a Wife to marry a Chambermaid, though with ten times as much Money: And so, sweet Mistress Abigail, your humble servant.  Exit Ludovico. L. Piz. 
aside. The Jade has me upon the Hip— I must be silent.  
She who has her Husband's Bed abused,  
Can ne'er expect she should be better used.  Exit. Lucy. 
Ha— What! my Lover gone! With all my heart: Better now than after; for whilst I have my Fortune in my own Hands, I shall have no need to sue for a Separate Maintenance, and get nothing for it neither.  Arm. 
to Placent. Now, Madam, go: May Heaven be propitious  
To your Designs: I'll stay, and watch Bassino:  
And when he goes, will follow with Alonzo.  Pla. 
Oh! my sick Fancy frames a thousand Forms,  
Which tell me that our meeting will proke fatal.  
And warn me not to go, what shall I do?  
Must I bear calmly my Bassino's loss?  
Why do I tremble thus?  
Sure, it can't be the fear of Death— No, for if  
I go not I must lose him, and that's more  
Than death to me— and if I go, I can but fall,  
And Life without him is the greater Woe,  
Therefore I ll on, I'll use the softest words  
That Tongue can frame to soothe her into Pity,  
And dissuade her from this impious Marriage.  
If I succeed I am completely happy,  
If not I'd rather die than live with hate,  
But first, cursed Rival, thou shalt share my Fate.  Exit Placentia. 
A flourish of Music.  Bass. 
'Tis now the time— But whither do I go?  
Shall I a Maid, a Wife, a Friend betray?  
No matter—  
All Arguments are vain, where love bears sway.  Exit Bassino. 

A SONG.  

When the Winds Rage, and the Seas grow high,  
They bid mankind beware,  
But when they smooth, and calm the Sky,  
'Tis then they would ensnare.   

So the bright Thais kindness shows,  
By frowning on her Lovers,  
For Ruin only from her flows,  
When she her Charms discovers.    Piz. 
Come now, Gentlemen and Ladies, be pleased to walk into the next Room, and take a small Collation— But where's my Lord Bassino? Come, Gentlemen, He's gone before us.  Arm. 
Where we will quickly follow. aside. Alonzo a word with you—  Exit Omnes.  

SCENE II. A Chamber in Aurelia's House.  Two Arm Chairs. 

Aurelia Sola.   Aur 
I wonder much at my Bassino's stay:  
Oh! Love! how swiftly fly thy Hours away  
When we are blessed! How tedious are thy minutes  
When cruel absence parts two longing Lovers!  Enter Florella. 
Is my Bassino come? speak—  Flor. 
No, Madam, A young stranger desires to speak with you: He says you are not acquainted with his Name, but will soon with his business, which is something of great import, that can be told to none but yourself.  Aur. 
A Stranger business with me! I know of none I have with strangers— Heaven! what's this?  
I feel a sudden throbbing in my Heart,  
As if 'twas conscious of some fatal News—  Aside. 
Womanish Fears— Admit him— (Exit Florella.) it must be  
One of Bassino's Friends, whom he entrusts  
To be a witness of our Marriage Vows.  Enter Placentia in man's clothes. Plac. 
Madam, I was informed that Count Bassino  
Was to be here— And having things t'impart  
That much concern him, I made bold to come—  Aur. 
Sir, I expect him straight— if you're his Friend  
I will account you mine— Be pleased to sit. Both sit.  Plac. 
My Brother, Madam, is extremely happy  
In being favoured by so fair a Lady—  Aur. 
Your Brother, Sir! is then my Lord your Brother?  Plac. 
Madam he is.  Aur. 
Then I may call you Brother too:  
For all the Solemn Vows of Love have passed  
Twixt him and me— And blissful Hymen waits  
With lighted Torch to tie the Sacred Knot,  
Which shall be done this Hour—  Plac. 
This hour! say you? Oh! Madam, have a care:  
You tread enchanted Ground, and e'er you know  
What Path you take, you're hurried to Destruction.  Aur. 
Where lies the Danger?  Plac. 
Oh! 'Tis a fatal Tale, yet you must hear it:  
Therefore summon your Courage to your Aid,  
For you will need it all, whilst I relate  
The fatal story—  Aur. 
Ah! how I tremble!  
Say, is he dead? has any murderous Villain  
Killed my Bassino?  Plac. 
No— he is well in health: but his distempered mind  
Is of a wild and feverish Disposition,  
Longing to taste, what tasted will undo him.  Aur. 
Your speech is all a Riddle: Pray, speak plainer:  
But yet, ere you proceed, if Count Bassino lives,  
I care not what must follow, since he's mine.  Plac. 
No, he's not yours— Nor ever must.  Aur. 
'tis false— There's not a Power on Earth can part us:  
Perhaps  
You think my Blood too base to mix with yours—  
But, Sir, your Brother loves me, and in Love  
All Ranks are equal—  Plac. 
No— I wish that were all:  
But there's a greater obstacle— He— is— married—  
Oh! Gods! Unfortunately married!  Aur. 
Married!  Plac. 
Yes— Married— to my Sister;  
To my unfortunate, abandoned Sister.  
Oh! do not you conspire t'undo her quite;  
It is enough, she's false Bassino's Wife.  Aur. 
Gods! Married!  
And is it possible! Oh! Faithless men!  
Oh! Truth! Oh! Justice! Whither are you fled?  
Now all my Fears and Horrors are explained.  Pla. 
I'm glad I reached this place in time, to hinder  
Those ills that must have waited on your Marriage,  
Now it is in your power, both to be happy,  
And, in some measure, make my Sister so.  Both rise. Aur. 
A Paradox in Nature— Bid Aurelia  
Be happy, when you rob her of her Heaven!  
Her dear Bassino!  
Indeed your Sister may be counted happy,  
If she's his Wife— Ha— Wife— By Heaven! 'tis false—  
No, no— He has no other Wife but me—  
He is not married, you belly him basely—  
He cannot be so treacherous—  Pla. 
Madam, I swear, whate'er I said is truth—  
Do but defer this marriage for a day,  
And if I don't produce convincing Proofs,  
May all the Plagues a Woman can invent  
Fall on my perjured head—  Aur. 
Defer our Marriage— No, by Heaven I will not.  
I can't suspect him— Neither do I think  
You durst maintain this story to his Face.  Pla. 
Madam, I dare; Nay, which is more, I'll die,  
Or vindicate my injured Sister's Honour—  Aur. 
Bold Arrogance!  
Oh! That he were but here to answer the Affront,  
Perhaps he may have wronged your Family:  
Debauched your Sister; for which you would force him  
To marry her?— But, I must tell Thee, Boy,  
He's mine already: nor would he forsake me  
To hold Command o'er all the Universe.  Plac. 
Oh! Heaven! must I bear this!  Aur. 
Nay, expect more, if he should find you here,  
'Tis not your being Brother to his Mistress,  
That will secure you from his just Revenge.  Pla. 
Revenge! Nay, then away with all Disguise.  
Pity, be gone— And in its room fell rage  
Take place, that I may dash that haughty Insolence  
That dares to treat me thus— Know, Madam,  
I am his Wife— his lawful, wedded Wife.  
With borrowed Shape I came to try your Virtue,  
Which I have found so light, that the least puff  
Of wanton Love will blast it— Else my Visit  
Had met a better welcome— Here with Sword in hand  
I'll wait his coming,  Draws. 
And as he enters pierce thy haughty Breast.  
I know he loves Thee, and therefore 'tis brave  
Revenge, to let him see thy dying Paugs:  
Thy parting Sighs will rack him worse than Hell.  Aur. 
His Wife! Oh! Insolence!  
In vain you waste your breath, it moves not me:  
So much I love him, so much I'm beloved,  
That should an Angel from yond Heaven descend,  
To tell me he's married I'd not credit him.  
Kill me if you dare— He will revenge my death:  
That pleasing thought gives Courage to my Soul;  
To live without him would be Death indeed!  
No— he'll ne'er leave me for a common thing,  
For such I'm sure Thou art—  Plac. 
Common! Proud wretch— by Heaven that word gives wings  
To my Revenge— Vile Creature, die—  Stabs her. Aur. 
Help,— Murder, murder—  Enter Bassino. Bass. 
Ha— That to thy heart— [kills Plac.] Were't thou a Demigod  
And durst attempt this Shrine, thus shouldst thoufall—  Plac. 
falling. Oh! Bassino! Oh!  Aur. 
Oh! hold, my Lord, what has your rashness done?  
I only should have died— I'll not upbraid  
Your Treachery— No, 'tis the hand of heaven  
That guides the stroke that takes my guilty Life,  
For being Faithless to Alonzo.  Bass. 
Talk not of Death, my fair, my Dear Aurelia.  
That very Sound does harrow up my Soul.  
But who art thou whose sacrilegious hand  
Durst to profane the Temple of my Love?  Plac. 
I am your Wife— Your loving Wife Placentiae.  
Oh! Pardon this rash Deed; blame jealous Love—  
And grace me with a sigh, that I may die contented.  Bass. 
My Wife! And Killed by me!  
Under what load of Miseries I stand!  
Oh! horror! horror! Infinite of Guilt!  
Hurl now your vengeful Bolts, Almighty Powers,  
On my devoted Head!  
Oh! I have wronged you both: Deceived you basely:  
Thus prostrate on the Ground, let me beg Pardon;  Threws himself on the ground. 
I do not ask it with Design to live.  Aur. 
Oh! Dear Bassino, live:  
And try to save her, for she's innocent:  
We only are in fault—  
I urged my wretched Fate with impious Language,  
For which I beg forgiveness: Generous Lady,  
Let not my Soul depart with Guilt oppressed.  Plac. 
As I forgive you, so may Heaven me  Bass. 
Oh! Placentia! oh! my Wife!  Aur. 
One thing more and I'm happy—  
Were but Alonzo here, that I might ask  
Forgiveness for my Falsehood! But, alas!  
My Spirits faint within my frozen Veins,  
And every Thing seems double to my sight:  
Oh! How I dread th'uncertain future State!  Bass. 
Unhappy Maid! Oh! my once dear Aurelia!  
Cursed, Cursed Bassino! Oh! my Wife! How dare  
I stand the View of both these injared Women!  
Oh! Heaven! Why name I Heaven! Heaven will not hear  
A wretch like me— No, even Hell wants Torment  
Proportioned to my Guilt— Oh! my Placentia! oh!  Plac. 
Oh! My dear Lord, I cannot see you thus:  
Live, live, my Lord; be happy when I'm dead.  
Nay, for your sake, I wish Aurelia too  
May live to make you happy—  Bass. 
Oh! hold!  
Heap not more Curses on me by your kindness:  
I wish that she might live, but not for me,  
Only to clear me from her guilty blood—  
Oh! Placentia!  Plac. 
Rise, my Lord, rise: Do not indulge your Woe,  
Your Sighs atone for all, and make e'en Death a Pleasure—  
I see him coming, he will soon be here—  Bass. 
No, I will never rise: ne'er see the Day.  
The Sun would blush to shine on such an impious wretch.  
Here let me lie, and tear with these cursed hands  Tears the ground in a distracted manner. 
A passage thro' the Earth, and hide my Face for ever.  Alon. 
within. Where, where's this Villain? Where's Bassino?  Aur. 
'Tis Alonzo's Voice.  
Oh! fly, my Lord, fly from his just Revenge.  Enter Alonzo hastily. Bass. 
Fly—  
Where shall I fly from Justice? No, Heaven is kind  
In sending him to help my Journey forward.  Alon. 
Where's Bassino.  Bass. 
rising. Here, Sir, I stand.  Alon. 
Then there stands a Villain— Ha— what  
Do I see!— Aurelia murdered!  
Oh! treacherous Maid, thy Love hast cost thee dear.  
Think on thy broken Vows, and call to Heaven for Mercy.  
Thy death I will revenge, because I loved thee once.  Aur. 
Oh! Alonzo, pardon me.  Alon. to Bassino. 
Now Villain, now what story, what pretence  
Canst thou invent to avoid my just Revenge?  
Oh! That I ne'er had listened to thy Tongue!  
Thy base, perfidious Tongue! Then all these Murders  
Had been prevented, and thou cursed in Hell—  
Thou Monstrous Fiend—  Bass. 
You talk too much— Let's see what you can do:  
Thus I return your Villain—  Alon. 
Take thy reward.  They fight, Bassino falls. Enter Armando. Arm. 
Hold! hold: Oh! Gods! I'm come too late.  
What has my fatal Friendship done!  
Ha— Placentia too— cursed Letter!  Bass. 
My Friend Armando! Oh! I blush to see thee:  
But let me have your Pardon— now I need it.  Arm. 
Oh! first pardon me—  
For I have been the cause of all this mischief.  
Whilst my officious Friendship strives to save you,  
I bring you all to this unhappy end.  
Say, can you pardon me?  Bass. 
I do—  
And oh! my Friend! had Virtue been my Guide,  
As it was thine, I still were truly happy.  Aur. 
Where am I?  
Why do I hover thus 'twixt Rest and Misery?  
Oh! good Alonzo, say you pardon me,  
And let me die in Peace, else full of Horror  
My Guilty Soul must wander in the Shades  
Of gloomy night, and never, never rest.  Alon. 
Thou hast my Pardon, and with it this Promise!  
Never to love again—  Aur. 
Oh! you're— too— kind— And I want—  
Breath to thank— you— Farewell.  Dies. Bass. 
Oh! Placentia! Embraces her.  
Thus in thy Arms my Thread of Life shall break.  Plac. 
My Lord, my Husband, Oh! come nearer yet,  
That I may take a parting kiss, to smooth  
My Passage to the Realms of endless night.  Kisses him. 
So— Now— I die— much happier than I lived.  
Farewell—  Dies. Bass. 
Farewell, Fair Excellence! Thou best of Wives!  
But I shall quickly follow— Yet before I go,  
I beg, Alonzo, let my Death atone  
For all the Injuries my Life has done you.  
Oh! spare my Memory, when I'm no more.  Alon. 
By Heaven!  
I see such Virtue struggling in thy Breast,  
As makes me wish I could prevent the Flight  
Of thy departing Soul—  Bass. 
No, no— I would not live:  
Hadst thou not come, my Hand had set me free.  
But now I fell more nobly, and less guilty.  
My Friend, my Dear Armando,  
Haste to inform my Prince Bassino rests:  
But hide, if possible, my shame: And let  
One Grave hold both this wretched Corpse and mine.  
Oh! my Placentia—  Dies. Alon. 
Unhappy Pair! But far more wretched me!  
For I must live, and live without Aurelia!  
Tho I'm convinced she loved me not, I can't  
Banish her Image from my Love-sick mind.  
Oh! that I ne'er had seen the Charmiug Fair!  Arm. 
The Gods are just in all their Punishments:  
And by this single Act, we plainly see  
That Vengeance always treads on Perjury.  
And though sometimes no Bolts be at us hurled,  
Whilst we enjoy the Pleasures of this World;  
Yet a day waits, a Day 'of general Doom,  
When guilty Souls must to an Audit come;  
Then that we may not tremble, blush or fear,  
Let our Desires be Just: our Lives unsullied here.  Exeunt Omnes.   
FINIS.