LOVE IN THE DARK, OR The Man of Business.  
A COMEDY: Acted at the THEATRE ROYAL By His MAJESTY'S Servants.  
WRITTEN By Sir FRANCIS FANE, Junior; Knight of the BATH.  
Naturam expellas furcâ licet, usque recurret. Hor.  
In the SAVOY. Printed by T. N. for Henry Herringman, and are to be sold at the Anchor in the Lower Walk of the New Exchange. 1675.   

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, JOHN, Earl of ROCHESTER. Gentleman of His MAJESTY'S Bedchamber.  
My LORD,  
Offender's, long connived at, come at last to be tried for their Lives, and are forced to call upon their fatally indulgent friends to bring them off: for Volunteer Poets are at least as mad as those who, out of wantonness play themselves into the Galleys. 'Tis high time to cast myself at your Lordships, Feet, and humbly beg your Protection to this ride Piece, which grew the bolder by your encouragement. All Poems in their Dedications, aught to return to your Lordship, as all Rivers to the Sea, from whose depth and Saltness they are seasoned and supplied: none of them ever coming to your Lordship's hands, without receiving some of the rich Tinctures of your unerring Judgement; and running with much more clearness, having passed so fine a strainer. If this receives any approbation in the World, I must ascribe it principally to your Lordship's partial recommendations, and impartial corrections. Your Lordship is the first person in the World, by whom I have been Highly and Heroically obliged: and if the first Impressions of Gratitude, may be as strong and captivating, as those of the first Love; they must needs be much more lasting and immutable, in my Passion for your Lordship; since the World affords no object so high and admirable, ever to work a change; your Lordship being the most accomplished of all Mankind, that I ever knew, read, or heard of, by Humane testimony. Eminent Being's are as hard to be believed, as they are to be understood: and no Man can speak Truth of your Lordship's Superlative Endowments, without suspicion of Flattery; nor conceal them without conviction of Ignorance. That famous Temper of weight, so rarely found in Bodies, appears most Illustriously in your Lordship's Mind. Judgement, and Fancy, seldom concurring in other Men, in any small proportion, are possessed by your Lordship in the highest degree that ever was allowed the Soul of Man; yet with so happy and harmonious a mixture, that neither of them predominate nor usurp; but, like two peaceful Colleagues in Empire, agree within themselves, and govern the rest of the World; acting in your Lordship's noble, and elevated Mind, like Fire and Air in the upper Region, whose Purity makes them easily convertible, and mutually assistant, whilst they are always quarrelling and preying upon each other, in gross inferior Bodies. What was favourably said of my Lord Bacon in his time, may much more justly be affirmed of your Lordship, in yours; That if ever there were a beam of Knowledge, immediately derived from God, upon any Man, since the Creation, there is one upon yourself. Others, by wearisome steps, and regular gradations, climb up to knowledge; your Lordship is flown up to the top of the Hill: you are an Enthusiast in Wit; a Poet and Philosopher by Revelation; and have already in your tender age, set out such new and glorious Lights in Poetry, yet those so Orthodox and Unquestionable, that all the Heroes of Antiquity, must submit, or Homer and Virgil be judged Nonconformists. For my part, I account it one of the great felicities of my life, to have lived in your age; but much greater, to have had access to your Person, and to have been cheryshed and enlightened by the influences, and irradiations of so great a Luminary. For, I must confess, I never return from your Lordship's most Charming and Instructive Conversation, but I am inspired with a new Genius, and improved in all those Sciences. I ever coveted the knowledge of: I find myself, not only a better Poet, a better Philosopher; but, much more than these, a better Christian: your Lordship's-miraculous Wit; and Intellectual powers being the greatest Argument that ever I could meet with, for the immateriality of the Soul; they being the highest exaltation of humane Nature; and, under Divine Authority, much more convincing to suspicious Reason, than all the Pedantic proofs of the most Learnedly peevish Disputants: so that, I hope, I shall be obliged to your Lordship, not only for my Reputation in this World, but my future Happiness in the next. Reflect then, my Lord, I beseech you, on your own sublime perfections, the profuseness of your Favours, my powerful (though presumptuous) inclination to your Person, and judge if it be possible, for any other Man living to pay your Lordship so sincere and affectionate a Veneration, as  
My Lord, Your Lordship's most Devoted, Obedient, and Humble Servant, FRANCIS FANE.   

PROLOGUE.  

WHat though 't has been the Genius of this Age,  
Tame Pegasus to fetter on the Stage;  
T' imprison in close Rhymes, well-governed Rage?   

Alas 'tis easier much for them in France,  
The English do but Walk, when Frenchmen Dance,  
Rhyme comes to them by Nature, Wit by Chance.   

Rhyme is a cheating Vapour, which unseen  
Ill Poets, like ill Spirits, pass between  
To good Wits but a shade, to bad a Screen.   

Then since our Heroes roused with French Alarms,  
Have beat the Mounsieurs at their own slight Arms,  
With lofty Sense, in Verses gingling Charms.   

Our Poet hope's you'll not expect to day,  
T' have all his downright thoughts dressed up so gay,  
If his Coin chinks too much, you'll doubt allay.   

But oh! the hungry Critic longs to bait  
And thinks, like Men on Scaffolds, we Dilate  
Preaching to stop irrevocable Fate.   

Lean Wit! who like some indigesting Eater  
With Wolf in's Stomach, preys on all fresh Matter  
By his ingrateful Gut, ne'er made the fatter.   

No no, our Author hopes you will excuse  
The yielding Parties of his Virgin Muse.  
Who learns to Court, practising to refuse.   

For Modesty's the Daughter of Desire  
An Artificial Ice that's made by Fire.  
That does at first deny, at last require.   

Pardon the struggle of his Maiden Pen.  
Embrace her briskly, the first time, and then  
She'll never leave you, till you do't again.    


Persons Represented.  
By  Loredano, Doge of Venice. 
Mr. Lydal.  Cardinal Colonna, the Pope's Legare. 
Mr. Burt.  Hircanio, Procurators of St. Mark. 
Mr. Cartwright.  Grimani. Procurators of St. Mark. 
Griffin.  Cornanti, an old jealous Senator. 
Mr. Wintershul.  Intrigo, a curious formal Coxcomb. 
Mr. Lacy.  Count Sforza, Gentlemen of Milan. 
Mr. Kynaston.  Trivultio, Gentlemen of Milan. 
Major Mohun.  Visconti. Gentlemen of Milan. 
Mr. Hayns.  Jacomo, Cornanti's Man. 
Mr. Charlton.  Circumstantio, Intrigo's Man. 
Mr. Shotterel.  Satana Advocate-General. 
Mr. Harris.  Proveditor. 
Mr. Powel.  
By  Parbelia, the Doge's Daughter. 
Mrs. Vphill.  Bellinganna, Cornanti's Wife. 
Mrs. Bowtel.  Aurana, Daughter to Hircanio. 
Mrs. James.  Melinda, Daughter to Grimani. 
Mrs. Slade.  Vigilia, Bellingana's Duegna. 
 Hircanio's Wife. 
 A Confessor. 
 Senators. 
 Officers and Servants. 
   

LOVE IN THE DARK: OR, THE Man of Business.  

ACT I.  

SCENE I. The Piazza of St. Mark.  Trivultio Solus. 
THe Carnival's begun; the Feast of freeborn Souls,  
Where Nature Reigns, and Custom is deposed:  
That Magistrate of Fools, Wisemen's Usurper;  
And yet no news from Milan!  Enter Visconti harkening. 
Was ever Man so disappointed? I have no less than Fifteen Marriages on foot; four of 'em are already consummated, by the help of some flight Vows, without the solemn Perjury in a Church: five or six more are finely warmed and softened, and ready for the Seal; and all are at a stand, for want of these same little scraps of Paper, called Bills of Credit: and, besides, now I think on't, I am to pursue my Legitimate pretensions to my rich Mistress Anrana; but a Pox; these Marriages in earnest come time enough, and spoil the others. The Oaths and Promises of Bachelors pass currant, and are not disproveable; but a married Man, that swears Virtuous Love to others, is perjured in a Court of Record.  Visc. 
Come, Sir, for all your Perjury and Idolatry,  
'Tis Money makes the shortest way of Courtship.  Triu. 
Who the Devil sent for thee to condole?  Visc. 
How many Letters, Legs, Cringes, Compliments, does this Money save you? most Women's Pride is greater than their Lust, and if they Love to see themselves admired, how much then must they needs love them that make 'em admirable!  
The supple Worshippers are but Slaves to Beauty:  
The Givers are superior Deities.  
That send the Jewels and fine clothes, guilty  
Of half the Murders those plumed Females cause.  Triu. 
I Sir, and make 'em insolent and inaccessible to themselves. Those that give fine things to their Mistresses, like Dutchmen, in time of War, sell Weapons to their Enemies.  Visc. 
Faith, Sir, I believe the Ladies need not fear your Liberality at this time. But, to be plain (Friend) if thou hast received no Bills of Exchange, try the old Banquer Cornanti, your Father's Friend, who (by the way) has a lovely Woman to's Wife, and is as jealous of her, as becomes old age, that knows its own Wants: he'll lend at first, for fear you should come twice.  Triu. 
'S life, so I will; but is she to be seen?  Visc. 
Nay, stay a little. Now has he as clearly forgot the thought of Money, as if he had the Indies in his pocket. Don't you consider that you must put yourself in Equipage, to do Honour to your Countryman Sforza, who is this day designed to be Gentleman of Venice, and Admiral of the Galleys, for his exemplary service the last year, against the Turks, in Candia; where you know, he slew two Bassa's with his own hands? After his Election, he intends to Feast the Senators a week, and desires our assistance at the entertainment.  Triu. 
Is this the day designed? Faith, 'tis a noble fellow,  Visc. 
He is the very Soul and Quintessence of Honour; and has reduced that wandering Science, made up of Vice and Virtue, ana from Moot-points, to judged Cases: he has tamed that Monster got betwixt Pride and Justice.  Triu. 
O, I; he is a Man of so much Honour, one would not be troubled with it: 'tis as squeamish and as sore as a tender Conscience. But who told you this?  Visc. 
I just now parted from him, and Intrigo.  Triu. 
Ha, ha, he; Intrigo! that insufferable Coxcomb, that Ape of Wisdom and Gravity, that haunts the Court and Council of Ten, and places of Judicature, and brings away all the Shells of business, and leaves the Kernels behind?  Visc. 
ay, the very same; He will sit you seven hours alone in the Lobby, next to the Doge's Bedchamber, to be thought a Privado; and, for the most part, when the Doge and all the Court's abroad, but Turn-keys and Bed-makers: he will watch you a Twelvemonth to pick up Papers that drop from Senators and Ladies, though torn in pieces for the worst of uses; and has a Frame like a Bonesetter, to put those disjointed fragments together; and when, with much labour, he has traced out the insignificant Sense, Glories as much as a Country Parson, that has found out a piece of Hebrew, to make an easy Text the harder.  Triu. 
Oh, ay! he has all the mechanic parts of a Statesman: he's a notable Herald too, an Antiquary, and Cabalist; and affects all those conjuring Studies, that fools cannot easily judge of, and wise Men will not take the pains to inquire into. How do I long to see this fellow again!  Visc. 
Mistake him not; his company is not so cheap to such hare-brained light fellows: unless you can pretend some great affair, or can raise his attention with some reverend Lie; he's as busy, as if his Head were a Beehive.  Triu. 
ay, as secret, as if his Mother's Confessor got him.  Visc. 
And as formal, and full of ceremomy, as if he was descended from one of Moses his Gentlemen-Ushers. But his principal Virtue is his love to Decency, and Order. As others at their Festivals, have their Lords of Misrule; so he has his Muster-masters of the Movables, and his Clerks of the Uniformity.  Triu. 
That's more than e'er I heard.  Visc. 
If a Dish comes up to his Table out of its rank and file, he will eat no more meat that day; if his Cheese be cut awry, he is ready to cut his own Throat: his Stools and Chains move like Chess-men; if one of 'em be removed by chance out of its walk, which his Servants know by privy Tokens; he is in a cold sweat, and never forgives the Malefactor. He turned away a Servant t'other day, for not making him three Legs, at his coming in; though he came to tell him his House was on fire. If he were called away in haste to Heaven, he would not stir a foot, till he had out on a clean Band, a pair of white Gloves, up to his Elbows, brushed his clothes, and erected his Mustachoes.  Enter Sforza and Intrigo, walking together: Trivultio and Visconti spy them. 
Yonder's Intrigo with the Count  Triu. 
ay, and he walks as stately as an affronted Turkeycock. As sure as I live, the Doge has spoke to him, if it were but to call him Rogue or Rascal, or bid him stand out of the way.  Visc. 
He takes no notice of us, because he thinks he's in better company. Your servant Signior Intrigo. Intrigo nods like a Grandee.  
Scarce to be spoke with! Let's harken a little.  Int. 
Pshaw! the loss of Candia was inconsiderable; a Plot of the Grand Council, to betray the Turks into a greater security: O'my knowledge, a mere Trap. But do you hear the news?  Sfor. 
What, Sir, I beseech you?  Int. 
Marry, Sir, the Great Doge of Venice yesterday morning and no longer since, about eight of the clock, in a most admirable grave, prudential Temper, put on a pair of great French Pantaloons.  Sfor. 
Is't possible! but what will the people say of these innovations?  Int. 
I'marry, Sir, that's the worst on't. I'm afraid (under the Rose) pray let it go no farther, 'twill breed no good Blood with the ill-affected. An high point of the Prerogative, to alter the sumptuary Laws, without advice of the Senate. There are some persons about his Highness— Well, I'll say no more; yet, if it appears to be done, with the approbation of the Grand Council, I warrant you 'tis an Hieroglyphic that imports something.  Sfor. 
Not otherwise—  Int. 
What did Agesilaus ride on a Hobby-horse for, but to teach his Children Humility? What did Augustus lie with Senators Wives for? not for his Lechery, I warrant you; but to discover their Councils, as Tacitus Trivultio falls a singing & dancing. admirably has it.— O brave! do you ever think to be a Privy Counsellor, at this rate?— He sings on. Well, Trivultio, I pity thee: thou hast a great deal of Wit, but no Judgement at all.  Triu. 
Then I should be a madman.  Int. 
Thou'lt never make a Statesman.  Triu. 
I'm sorry for't. But shall I ever make a Courtier?  Int. 
I'm afraid not. Let me see. Measures his height with his Hand and Cane. Scarce tall enough; he must be a proper, straight, or at least, a stiff-going uniform Man, that undertakes that Province; else no hopes of him: he must strive to be always in the Prince's Eye, and seen in a Crowd.  Triu. 
Sejanus lost himself with a pair of low heeled Shoes.  Int. 
Very right, Sir: Moreover, give me leave to tell you, you understand not the language of the upper Sphere.  Triu. 
What's that, good Sir?  Int. 
Marry, Sir, under the Types of Balls, Plays, Hawking and Hunting, and such small matters, are comprehended the greatest secrets of State: and you seldom hear Courtiers talking of any thing else.  Triu. 
That's true enough.  Int. 
And do you think Courtiers so ignorant, as a man would take 'em to be? by no means: they appear so only to deceive us: As for example; in the Parable of Hunting, Horses signify Princes; Hounds, Soldiers; Foxes and Hares, Rebels and Sectaries; Gunners and Pochers, are Jesuits: and if ever you chance to hear 'em talk of on old grave Man in the Field, with a great Montero Cap on, than you may swear the Pope has a hand in the business.  Triu. 
Bless us all! very strange!  Enter Masquerades upon the Piazza, with all sorts of ridiculous Disguises. Int. 
Oh horrid! the scum of the Earth, the reproach of the Republic, an inundation of Vanity!  Triu. 
Well said Boys, to him again; He offers to go away; they push him to and fro to keep him in. these fellows know him as well as we.  Visc. 
How properly they abuse him!.  Triu. 
To him again long Nose; this fellow will never outlive the Carnival; come, now let's away to Cornanti's.  Intrigo runs out from him. Exeunt Trivultio & Visconti. After the ridiculous Habits, come in Ladies of all Dresses; and after them Enter Parhelia the Doge's Daughter, with Aurana and Melinda, with Attendants. Aur. 
But, in good earnest, Madam, did you never acquaint the Count with your Passion, by words, or Message?  Parh. 
Never; but now will I appear to him in Dreams and Visions, and make him love by Inspiration: I'll haunt him in as many shapes as a Spirit, that invites a Man to find out a hidden Treasure: I'll try his Love, by all the Arts of Woman.  Mel. 
What needs that torture, Madam? Men on the Rack will still out-talk the Truth; Swear, Lie, Blaspheme, for present ease.  Aur. 
To your Guard, Madam; the Count comes up towards us, but our Gallants are fled.  Parh. 
That's as I would have it; clap on your Masks, and let's give him a broad side.  

Sings a Song to the Theorbo.  
LEt us turn Usurers of Time,  
And not misspend an hour;  
The present, not the future's in our power.  
To think to spend what's not our own's a Crime.  
He whose soft life's in mirth possessed,  
Enjoys his time with interest,  
Love, and a Muse,  
Brings Use on Use;  
For Money's but the Slave, and Time the Measure,  
And Wit the Handmaid, Love the Queen of Pleasure.   Parh. 
Sir, if this rude address may find from you,  
Or Credit, or Excuse, there is a Lady  
Has oft wished you happy: whether through  
Love to Justice, which would cease to be so  
Were she not tributary to your Merits;  
Or some kind secret Charm which strongly ties  
All unconcerned Spectators to be partial,  
I'll not determine: yet in all dubious sports  
As well as War, where Art and Courage rule,  
She wished you still victorious, and you proved so:  
Therefore she thanks you, for her joys received.  Sfor. 
Madam, did not my faith in you outweigh  
Th' opinion of myself, and unbelief  
Were not a greater sin than arrogance;  
I ne'er should harbour such a flattering thought:  
Yet had I dared to hope my abject Fortune  
Could move the precious cares of a fair Lady;  
Sure I had spurred Ambition, though I'd tired her.  Parh. 
If Passion's bitter Throes frail Women hide,  
They silence Love through Modesty or Pride.  
My thoughts from such accusers are exempt.  
This keeps off other's laughter, your contempt. Pointing to her Masque.  
I shall no longer then suppress my fires:  
Sublime Deserts may justify Desires.  
If Love's a Virtue, 'tis by all Men known  
Useful to show, and Glorious to own:  
If 'tis a Vice that Women should detest;  
Yet Crimes become less sinful when confessed. Exit.  Sfor. 
Methinks I find some Lightning piece my Heart!  
heavens'! what a Voice, a Wit, a Shape, an Air!  
The Face is kept for nothing but despair,  
And yet she seems to love, but gives no hopes  
Of seeing her unmasqued. Well, 'tis no matter  
How a Man plays his Cards, if Women show their Hands.  
Oh I'm content she may be ever veiled;  
My Heart's too narrow to contain more Love:  
It will boil over like some flaming Mountain,  
And burn the Vital Regions round about it.  
Religion's veiled in Types from vulgar Eyes;  
None e'er returned to tell Celestial joys,  
If Heaven were left for every one to see,  
Heaven would be Hell, with too much company. Exit.   

The SCENE Cornanti's House.  Enter Bellinganna and Vigilia. Bell. 
This Trivultio is a pretender to my Cousin Aurana; He's a handsome young fellow, and talks well.  Vigil. 
And the other is Signiora Melinda's Servant.  Bell. 
The very same.  Vigil. 
But I think their Mi stresses are kept up so close, That the Gallants are at liberty.  Enter Cornanti furiously. Cor. 
Hell and Damnation! nothing draw out  
But Airy Bankrupt, gaudy Butterflies,  
The Apes of chattering Frenchmen, that boast  
Of every Lady's favour they once saw,  
Or once but heard of!  
I'll stop your peep-holes, and your Jalouzies;  
And here's my Justice for thy next offence. Shows his Dagger.  Bell. 
Oh heavens'! be pleased to hear,  Cor. 
I'll no more,  
Impudent Strumpet; stir not from thy Chamber,  
Nor you from her, Vigilia: Eunuch, lock 'em in,  
And guard the door; and you, Jacomo,  
See that the Eunuch execute his charge.  
Let no man enter upon pain of death,  
But Father Scrutinio the Confessor, he may secure  
Unstable airy Minds, with strong preservatives  
Of Holiness, and wisely throw in Seeds  
Of Virtue, pregnant Grounds to keep from Weeds. Exeunt Bell. and Vigil. the door shut upon them.  Knocking without. Enter Scrutinio the Confessor. 
Oh, here comes the searcher for prohibited Goods.  
Yet 'tis well, if this Confession have not the effect of vomiting,  
To make Men the more ravenously hungry afterwards.  
Welcome, reverend Father, thrice welcome, and in season.  Scrut. 
I'm glad, Sir. you are one of those, that give our Coat  
It's primitive esteem: 'twill not be lost, Sir,  
'Twill not be lost, nor unrewarded long.  Cor. 
I hope some years yet. Aside.  
My Wife attends your Fatherhood within.  
Oh, Sir, Confess her strictly: there has been  
Of late some secret practice, I can tell you,— Draws it out ridiculously.  
That should not be.— May not a Husband have  
A little Item, or so, how things do go?  Scrut. 
Wicked, and blasphemous! repent that thought.  
In what storms is this poor Man tossed, wanting  
Religion's Ballast!  Cor. 
Oh what a feeble Fort's a Woman's Heart,  
Betrayed by Nature, and besieged by Art!  
Oh represent the horror of the Crime;  
Give Vice the darkest and the ugliest shade,  
And put the Devil in a Masquerade.  Scrut. 
Sir, we can add wry Mouths, and Horns, and Claws.  
And Prayer-provoking Tails; as we see cause;  
But, Sir, 'tis strange you should instruct me thus  
In an employment so well known to us.  
Is Jealousy than Conscience more severe?  
My Duty less Religious than your Fear?  Cor. 
Well, 'tis enough Boy, guide the Reverend Father in. Exit Scrut.  
Well, now the Guards are set, the Garrison secure,  
I'll go ramble, and inquire after this Purchase  
Trivultio spoke of. Yet hold— not to Trivultio,  
Lest he come hither again a visiting,  
With a Pox to him: I'll treat with him by a Friend.  
Hold again.— But if Offers to go, and stops.  
This secrecy be a Gallants highest quality,  
To please the Females, curbed by Fear and Honour;  
May not these Priests be held secure Offenders,  
Whom fear of Death obliges to be silent?  
Or, were there no such Law, why, then  
They're Favourites of necessity; not choice,  
Or Prudence: like to chief Ministers of State,  
Who dive so far into their Master's Secrets,  
'Tis dangerous to refuse to show 'em more.  
Well, search no farther, Reason; Faith, take place:  
Old Age and Piety resolve this Case. Exit.   

The SCENE, The Piazza of St. Mark.  Enter Intrigo and Circumstantio. 
Well, Circumstantio, now give account of the Message I gave you this morning, and all the memorable occurrences of your journey; but remember withal, that you must make your approaches regularly to your Betters, and in due form: not leap upon 'em, and take 'em by assault, or storm 'em.  Circ. 
Then, Sir, with due submission to your Honourable prudence.—  Int. 
Or rather thus. Striking sail to your intellectual Gravity.  Circ. 
Striking sail to your Hectical Gravity—  Int. 
Why, I hope it is no Disease, Circumstantio, but the most perfect state of mind.  Circ. 
Why, did not your Worship bid me make my reproaches regularly to your Honour's Worship?  Int. 
Still erroneous. Well, go on to thy Message.  Circ. 
Well then, Sir, going to go, according to your Worship's Command, as much as to say, according to my Duty, as much as to say, to fetch the Naples Waistcoats of Don Henriquez the Spanish Merchant; I had no sooner got to the end of the street, but, as sure as my Grandfather was at Lepanto, who should I meet with but honest Lorenzo, Count Sforza's Man, my old Comrogue; if your Worship chance to see him, he's a Redheaded fellow, and goes with his Hat turned up on one side, with a silver Button, and a brown Suit of clothes, a little out at the Elbows.  Int. 
Wondrous exact! Aside.  Circ. 
So in we went into a little House, to take our morning's draught together; by the same token there was in the room we sat in, an old Worm-eaten Cupboard, two Tables, with a greasy Curtain betwixt 'em, four Forms, and three Joyn'd-stools.  Int. 
Admirably punctual! He improves daily. Aside.  Circ. 
And on the Walls were deciphered certain Warlike Instruments, like Cannons or Battering Rams, which I conceive to have been done with the smoke of a Candle.  Int. 
Alas! some ancient Fresco-piece of a Roman Battle: I'll inquire farther of it. Aside, shaking his Head.  Circ. 
Our liquour exhausted, and our reckoning paid, out I went into the street again towards Don Henrique's as fast as ever I could run, but, as sure as my Grandfather was at Lepanto, who should I meet with at the next turning, but a whoreson Chimny-sweeper—  Int. 
Well, Circumstantio, I'm a little in haste, I will dispense with any farther occurrences: go on to the point, and give me an account of the Naples Waistcoats.  Circ. 
Oh Lord, Master, are you mad, to interrupt me? why, then my story's at an end; I cannot tell one syllable more, it I were to die for't, unless I begin again, word for word.  Int. 
Nay, prithee proceed for once; I'm in haste.  Circ. 
Why, I tell you 'tis impossible, Your Worship commanded me to forget no circumstances of my journey, and my Head is so full of 'em, and they are ranged in such order, that, being once put out of it, I cannot speak one word more forwards, if I were to be hanged.  Int. 
Believe it, I fear this admirable method turns to an infirmity. Well, we will rectify this at another time. Exeunt.  Enter Scrutinio, Trivultio. Scrut. 
I'm sorry, Sir, to find you so incredulous.  
Were there no evidence of future Worlds,  
Yet it were worth the while to wave a little  
Th' uneasy sins of overacted Life,  
And play at Hazard for such high rewards.  
Who would not stake a Cottage for a Kingdom?  Triu. 
Sir, there are few grow rich at Lotteries,  
But those who keep 'em; yet I am all faith,  
But cannot think that Nature prompts to crimes.  
Would Heaven make Laws on purpose to be broke?  
Put Cats and Mice into a Chest of Glasses?  Scrut. 
Oh, Sir, forbear, forbear; in these dark points.  
The more we seek, the less we find:  
Like Men that Hunt in wide and shady Forests,  
Pursue the Game till they have lost themselves.  
In this deep Gulf, short Reason's Plummet cannot  
Sound to the bottom, till by Faith 'tis lengthened.  
But, Sir, set Faith aside; you are a Man  
Of Honour, and of noble Blood, you fear  
To do an injury, more than take one?  Triu. 
ay, were there no Religion.  Scrut. 
You would not  
Defraud your neighbour of the meanest good?  Triu. 
No, not the least.  Scrut. 
And yet you'll take away the greatest.  
Then do you think a Woman no great good?  Triu. 
No, faith, don't I.  Scrut. 
Not a Wife?  Triu. 
No, work of all,  Scrut. 
Not a beloved one, or a Mistress?  Triu. 
That may require Reflection.  Scrut. 
Then know you not the fair and young Wife of old Signior Cornanti.  Triu. 
I hope, if she be so, he is too wife t'expose her to be known.  Scrut. 
Alas, who can be secure from inquisitive Adultery?  
Did not you attempt her Honour?  Triu. 
Who, I, Sir,— What the Devil means this? Aside,  Scrut. 
Add not one sin to another, by denying it: the circumstances will convince you.  Triu. 
'Tis true, Sir, I saw her at her House this morning, and put the jealous Coxcomb her Husband into a cold sweat; but, what more?  Scrut, 
Oh, Sir, deny it not, for Heaven's sake. The truth of this was witnessed by her Tears. You came afterwards to her Window, which looks to the Strada Nuova, and gave her some Music.  Triu. 
Oh, are you there, Sir? I never did this; but it seems she has a mind I should do it. Rare Wench. Aside.  
Well, Sir, 'tis a folly to deny such manifest proofs.  Scrut. 
Are you a man of Honour now, and Justice,  
To catch at that which cannot be restored?  
Oh, Sir, conceive the horror of the crime  
If acted, doubly mortal.  
The Highway Thief, that bids a man deliver,  
Though valour, or some accident, frees th' assaulted,  
By most of Humane Laws shall suffer death,  Triu. 
Lovers are rather, Sir, blind Highway Beggars,  
That nothing ask, but what the Ladies in the Coach  
Are able both, and willing to be rid of.  Scrut. 
Compare not Charity with vicious Love.  Triu. 
Launce me no farther, Father; I feel already  
Most sharp compunction, and beg the salve of Penance.  Scrut. 
If you be serious, find me in my Cell:  
I have discharged my Message. Exit.  Triu. 
And an excellent one, i'faith, for thy Coat! Oh most Divind Bellinganna! this was a Masterpiece: there is Lechery in the very contrivance. As sure as I live, her Husband has so straight confined her, that she can make use of no body else. A man had need to have his wits about him, in this quicksighted Philosophical Age, wherein whoring is improved to a liberal Science, and deserves the consideration of a Society. I'll lose as little time as I can, but to the Window by and by towards the Strada Nuova.  
Oh ay! there 'tis. Exit.  Enter Sforza walking alone. Sfor. 
The State decrees me Honours and Commands;  
Nor want I wealth, the Dregs and Lees of Virtue,  
Its grossest part, but that which keeps it working:  
Fame is my waiting-Woman, everywhere so officious,  
That she is troublesome; yet cannot I suppress  
A newborn Passion, for an unknown Lady.  
This Love usurps upon, and baffles all enjoyments else:  
'Tis like Religion, or is a kind of one,  
Which makes us dull and senseless to all other things;  
While we are wrapped in splendid Contemplations:  
And this Amour of mine is a high piece of Faith,  
Unseen Perfections, undiscovered Worlds!  
I'm like the worst of Prodigals, that Sign to Blanks,  
And blindfold pass Estates without all power  
Of Revocation. Oh! these Passions  
Are but the cracks and splinters of the Soul,  
Shattered and bruised by some external Power,  
Which might securely lie in its own Haven.  
men's minds, like Kingdoms, never so much flourish  
As when they raise the price of Native Goods,  
And set low values upon Foreign Wares.  Pathelia appears at a Grill unmasqued, than she Masques herself, and speaks to him. Parh. 
Sforza, Sforza.  Sfor. 
Ha! A Woman's voice! Starts.  Parh. 
ay, and a Friend's: draw near;  
Disdain becomes a Lover more than Fear.  Sfor. 
My Goddess too, I think; 'tis hard to know  
Our Friends revealed; disguised, 'tis much more so.  Parh. 
If Actions more than Looks, the mind declare,  
Then learn to love; but who 'tis, take no care.  Sfor. 
Madam, the Eye as well as Ear, would feast:  
Carve not for one alone, but every Guest:  
Or, if some wait, yet Love would see at least.  Parh. 
Why shouldst thou think that pleasure to confine  
Which all Men that have Eyes, must share with thine?  
The beauty of the Soul's the ground of Love,  
And her Ideas, in the face do move:  
For no Man is to White and Red inclined;  
But to the Air, the Picture of the mind:  
Then, if the Soul will show itself as clear  
Without the Face, her weak Interpreter;  
Sure he is wise that with the sovereign Treats:  
Courtiers and Mediators oft prove Cheats.  Sfor. 
Soul, with all her Maids and Spies,  
Comes down to Dance, and Revel in the Eyes;  
And shall we trust the Tongue, the falsest part  
In Womankind, next to the Heart?  Parh. 
I scorn to be adored the vulgar way:  
If fair, I you; if foul, myself betray.  
But hope the best, true Love will pass a Veil:  
Your Faith may save you, when your Works do fail.  Sfor. 
When the Soul grants what Reason makes her see;  
That is true Faith, what's more's credulity.  Parh. 
Dispair more Souls, than does Presumption slay;  
And Hope sends Men to Hell the sweeter way.  Sfor. 
Fight not so weak a Foe, and use a Shield:  
Youlye in Amoush; I, in open Field  
'Tis I that Fight upon unequal Ground.  Parh. 
'Tis you that Fight, and can receive no Wound.  Sfor. 
Oh! I am wounded; but shall lingering die:  
Give me the blow of Mercy from your Eye. [One calls within Madam  Parh. 
I'm called away, Farewell:  
In th' afternoon you'll find me here again.  Sfor. 
Oh, admirable, Divine Person! Oh I am all, on fire! If this Lady should have an ill Face, to so excellent a Soul, it were the greatest Cheat that ever was put upon the World. But, if it be so, 'tis in mercy to Mankind; an Antidote to her poison, as most destructive Creatures carry with them:  
Or else the World would be destroyed once more;  
Now, by her Flames, as by the Waves, before. Exit.    

ACT II.  

SCENE I.  Trivultio, and Boy. 
THis is the backside of Cornanti's Palace, and this his Lady's Chamber Window the Confessor spoke of. There is no failing of Women it their critical minutes, if you do, they'll hate you ever after, and think you want vigour, or apprehension. Counsels in Love, like Stratagems in War, are to be taken on the sudden, when you find the Enemy in disorder, or your own Men sittest for action. I'll give her a Song; but none of your whining Ditties to Women of experience. Boy, play the Tune I told you of. The Boy Plays, and Bellinganna appears at the Window, Vigilia her Duegna in a Veil and Muffler peeping after her.  Bell. 
'Tis Trivultio.  

Boy or Trivultio Sing.  
CUpid, I scorn to beg the Art  
From thy imaginary Throne;  
To learn to wound another's Heart,  
Or how to heal my own.  
If she be coy, My Airy Mind.  
Brooks not a Siege: if she be kind,  
She proves my Scorn, that was my Wonders;  
For Towns that yield I hate to plunder  
Love is Game, Hearts are the Prize,  
Pride keeps the Stakes, Art throws the Dice:  
When either's won  
The Game is done.  
Love is a coward, hunts the flying Prey;  
But, when it once stands still, Love runs away.   Enter Intrigo. Int. 
Ha! now shall I find one of his mistress's Lodgings, and be revenged of him for his Dilapidations. Trust me, 'tis the backside of Cornanti's Palace. A brave Lady indeed.  Bell. [Looking out.] 
A very indifferent Lover! What, Triultio attempting the Honour of a Senator's Wife? Here's a penitential Note for you. Throws down a Paper and retires.  Triu. 
Blessed Vision, stay a little, She's gone: but that's her Body, here's her Soul. Takes up the Letter and opens it.  
My Husband fears no Devils but your White ones: therefore for the security of his Person, he has just now sent out his servant Jacomo, to buy a Negro Slave: put yourself into that Colour and Habit, and find means to be sold to him, and you shall be assu'rd of a kind Reception.  
Ha! a Negro Lover? for aught I know to abude mr. I'll not leave myself wholly to your discretion, Madam, for all my great Passion; I'll find a cleanlier way than that, sure; Let me see: I'll send for the old Gossip that appeared at the Window, and corrupt her: there's none of 'em proof against ten Checquins; and Sforza has supplied me with Money enough. How Sanctify'dly shall I look in along Veil and a Chin-cloth!  Boy. 
Oh, Sir, I know a Charwoman that haunts the House everyday.  Triu. 
Send her away presently, and let her promise the Duegna ten Checquins to come to my Lodging. In the mean time will I go see what divertisement the Church affords, where I shall meet all the good company. I love to shoot at a whole Covey at once; ten to one but some drop. Trivultio puts his Note towards his pocket, and drops it, and Exit with his Boy. Intrigo comes and takes it up, and reads it to himself.  Int. 
What a Jewel is here neglected by this idle young fellow! no wiser than AEsop's Cock. Oh the giddiness of these Kickshaw-Gallants! 'tis a high point of Wisdom to take occasion by the forelock: take heed of her bald Pate as long as you live. I must not let this slip however. Exit.   

The SCENE, A Church, full of Ladies.  Enter Parhelia, Aurana, and Melinda, walking. Mel. 
Your Courting the Count in a Masque, is the whole Town-talk.  Aur. 
And everybody's guessing who you are.  Parh. 
And no body right I hope.  Aur. 
I'm sure we suffer for't, and could hardly get leave to come to Church to day.  Parh. 
Alas, poor prisoners; I'm in perfect freedom.  Aur. 
But do you hear how Cornanti guards my poor Cousin Bellinganna?  Parh. 
I hear from her hourly. But hark you Melinda, shall I ask you a hard question? will you lend me your Gallant for an hour or two, for a design I have?  Mel. 
Content, Madam.  Parh. 
I am informed Count Sforza will be here presently. In this new Habit 'tis impossible to know me: I'll pretend to be another Woman, and try his constancy.  Mel 
What a pretty device will that be!  Parh. 
I'll leave you, that he may not guests me by my company. Puts on her Masque, and slips into the crowd.  Enter Visconti: comes up to Melinda. Visc. 
Madam, well met.  
Must I owe this to Fortune, or Design?  Mel. 
Oh, Sir, Devotion brings unthought of Blessings; But happinesses here on Earth are short.  
We have spies upon us:  
As their Devotions end, so must our Conference.  Visc. 
Ah my dear Saint, these fleeting Heavenly Visions  
Serve but t'increase our pains by their privation:  
A broken Interview  
Is worse than absence which may quench desire:  
This serves to blow up, not enjoy the Fire.  
Raising a Passion, leaves us to its fury,  
There's no such torment as too short a joy.  Enter Trivultio, and comes up to Aurana. Mel. 
The sweetest Meats are the most apt to cloy  
But I have found, out an expedient:  
My Father has been inquiring out a French Master for me;  
Disguise yourself presently like one, and come and offer your  
service to him: 'twill take my life for't.  
When you have got free admission to our House.  
The Princess Parhelia desires your assistance  
In some of her affairs.  Visc. 
I'll about it straight.  Aur. 
Such swarms of Beauty fill this Carnival,  
That you must needs be stung that are so venturous.  
I am too happy that I hear no more  
Your frolicks nor your flatteries at my Window.  Triu. 
I hate to see our Mistresses at Grates  
Look like cooped Chickens piping for their Meat,  
Or like poor Prisoners, begging for an Alms.  
And Lovers in the Streets, like helpless friends  
Who may uncharitably entertain 'em  
With a discourse of their miseries,  
But must not lend a farthing to their Purse.  Aur. 
'Tis Men that are the Canting Mimic Beggars,  
Whose Art, not Misery, attracts relief.  
I've said too much, Trivultio, were observed. Turns away.  Triu. 
Whither so fast?  Aur. 
I cannot choose but love this young fellow, for all his, indifference: I love a Man that knows how to value his own Sex, and cheapen slight-wrought Woman.  Triu. 
Here are Riches, but Marriage attends it: a Golden Trap. My freeborn Genius moves for Bellinganna. Lying with another Man's Wife, is like invading an Enemy's Country: there's both-Love and Ambition in't; 'tis an enterprise. fit for a great Spirit.  Enter Visconti and Sforza, who-comes up to Trivultio. Sfor. 
Heigh ho! What a Streams here!  
I wonder much what makes these Females so devout;  
Is it their Fear or their Credulity?  Triu. 
Oh, no. Two other Graces: Pride and Lechery.  
I wonder more that Men, who searce allow them Souls,  
Will give 'em leave to crowd into our Churches,  
Where they have as ill an efflect as fine strangers  
In Grammar-Schools: for, though the Boys keep on  
Their humdrum still, yet none of 'em mind  
Their Lesson for looking about 'em.  Visc. 
Oh, Sir, this is the great Market of Matrimony:  
Here 'tis begun, made up, and broken too.  Triu. 
Matrimony! for Heaven's sake name it not.  
I do not love to hear the sound of Fetters.  Sfor. 
Oh, pray let's humour him a little, I think indeed the strictness of it was but a kind of juggle, betwixt the Women and the Friars.  Triu. 
True, Such a devilish thing could never have been found out else. 'Twas worse than the invention of Gunpowder; and 't has altered the course of Love, more than the other has done of War.  Visc. 
Imparity of Minds is worse than Bodies:  
And which two are of the same mind for ever?  Triu. 
ay, or at any time. If People love well, there needs no Marriage to confine 'em, if not, 'tis cruelty to couple two churlish disagreeing Curs, and sin not to unloose 'em. I would not use my Dogs so. True; Men are chained in Galleys, Horses bridled, and Oxen yoked to work:  
For slavish Offices and things ungrateful,  
Constraint is necessary, but for the Sweets of Love,  
To have a Task imposed; t'have Men, like hired Town Bulls,  
Made amorous by force, and beating to 't!  
Do Men chain up themselves at Dinner to their Tables?  
Or do they Hunt, or Bowl, or Dance in Shackles?  
If Marriage is a sport, confinement makes it les;  
If 'tis a work, are drudgeries the better for being endless?  Parhelia, masked, comes up to Sforza. Parh. 
Sir, if you please to withdraw into this private Chapel, I shall acquaint you with a thing that may concern you. They withdraw.  Triu. 
So, faith, he's engaged, the Lord knows with whom; whether my Mistress, or another Man's Wife, no matter. The World runs round, and I'll be behind hand with none of 'em, But I must slip away to the old Woman. Exit.  Visc. 
Another Familiar! Let me see, Who may this be? or who may it not be? O' my conscience, this credulous Man of Honour, will have his Throat cut, by one of these Courtesans. Looks nearer.  Parh. to Sfor. 
Sir, your accomplishments have wearied Fame,  
Employed mens' Tongues, and Ladies Hearts; you keep  
A correspondence with all Female Breasts;  
Yet some deserve that influence more than others:  
And how can they deserve't, that are ashamed  
Of their defects, and dare not show themfelves?  
Sir,, your Adventure's blazed about the Town,  
Your meeting since, and with you know not whom:  
Your Prudence suffers in't, and others Passions;  
Amongst them, mine I'll be as free in all things,  
As she's reserved: I'm jealous of your Fairy,  
And am resolved to break all her Enchantments,  
If Beauty, Place, or Riches can uncharm you  
Equal to hers I'm sure. Your Eyes shall be  
My Judges, 'fore you sleep Exit. Sforza following: Visconti stops him.  Visc. 
What does she say to you?  Sfor. 
I'll tell you presently. Let me go. Death, how is she lost in the crowd!  Visc. 
Let her go, with a pox to her; she'll come again, when the fit's upon her. Look, look, here's a pretty Woman, without a Mask.  Sfor, 
Thou hast undone me. Walks a turn or two melancholy.  
Now am I like a Partridge betwixt two hooded Hawks,  
Pecked at by both, and killed outright by neither  
I fare like to some guiltless Great one  
Whom armed, injustice brings to his destruction,  
By Executioners in Vizors tortured,  
Ashamed, or fearful, of the impious Act. Persians.  Visc. 
You'll rather die the death of Tubed and pickled  
With Honey first anointed, then Flyblown to another World.  
These Masquerades are all Trapans and Cheats:  
It is the Cause, not pain, that makes the Martyr;  
I ne'er had loved, had I not viewed Melinda.  Sfor. 
I grant she's lovely; but she's to be seen.  
Tell me of Angels, those are my Amours:  
Those things are mean, are forced to court the Eyes,  
The Porters of the Soul, to give 'em entrance.  
Give me the Charms that enter without knocking;  
The intellectual Graces, that, like Lightning,  
Pierce, and inflame the Soul, before they ' reseen. Exeunt   

The SCENE, Cornanti's House.  Intrigo like a Moor, Eunuch. Eun. 
Here, will you play at Cards? Shows him Cards.  
Will you play at Mora? Opens his Hand, and throws out his Fingers.  
This fellow's no better company than one of my Master's Statues. A murrain of this jealousy, we shall never have but Mopes and Owls in our House.  Enter Trivultio like the Duegna, with a Muffler on. 
Oh, are you come? then my Lady may come forth. Runs and opens the door for his Lady  Enter Bellinganna. Bell. 
Oh, Vigilia, how does thy swelled Face?  Triu. 
Something better, Madam, with a Medicine I had from the Speciale. Curtsying.  Intr. 
May not this be an occasion Adequate, or Quadrating to my Design? She is never to be spoke with, without her Duegna; and if she overhears, they are all one. Aside.  
Oh, Madam, 'tis I. Coming close to Bellinganna.  Bell. 
Who are you?  Intr. 
Oh, 'tis I, 'tis I, 'tis more discreet not to name Trivultio. Aside.  Bell. 
Which of the I's? there's many of the name, Sir.  Intr. 
'Tis I myself.  Bell. 
Better and better: but who are you yourself?  Intr. 
Oh, Madam, I tell you 'tis I myself; who should it be else? Your Beauty is the cause of my present deformity.  Bell. 
Well, Sir, I'm sorry I could not contrive a better disguise; my Husband is so extremely careful of my conversation, a less would not have blinded him.  Triu. 
So, so, i'faith, the next word is into the Bedchamber; But I'll forbid the Banes. Aside.  Intr. 
Madam, to my Conception, this Disguise is a most prudent Veil for illicite Love.  Bell. 
Methinks Trivultio talks a little idly:  
Pray Heaven he have the Wit I fancied. Aside.  Intr. 
And, withal, let me tell you, Madam, under the Rose, (pray let it go no farther) you are not the first Lady, whose Secrets I have participated; and, though I say it that should not, managed with circumspection and taciturnity.  Triu. 
Ha, ha, he! Under the Rose! nay then I smell a Rat.  
Oh, I shall burst with laughing.— Aside.  
Madam, methinks this Man looks not like Trivultio.  Bell. 
Trivultio! why Trivultio? Seems strange.  Triu. 
Why, Madam, you walk not in the dark to me.  
Did not you invite him by your Confessor?  
'Twas a pretty invention.  Bell. 
Ay me! Nay, if these Confessors betray us, what will become of us poor Women: But who could have thought this Man of Heaven could have picked out the meaning of an amorous Message?  Triu. 
And did not I see you throw down a Note to Trivultio.?  Bell. 
ay, to abuse him.  Triu. 
I take it very unkindly, that I, that have been employed by you, upon so many difficult occasions, should now be left out. Turn out your Black, that we may talk more freely.  Bell. 
Pray, Sir, stay without, and have a little patience.  Int. 
Patience, Madam! there lies my Talon. I have waited seven years for the kiss of a fair Lady's Hand, and when it came, 'twas with her Glove on too. Exit.  Bell. 
Oh admirable!  Triu. 
God b'ye, good patient Packhorse. Well, Madam, you sent for Trivultio, it seems; but suppose he were here, would you not discover him to your Husband?  Bell. 
No, indeed: I would employ him about some business; but, it may be, not such as he imagines. He shall have free Ingress and Regress: that's as much as a civil Woman can say.  Triu. 
Why then here he is. Pulls off his Disguise.  Bell. 
Trivultio here and there too!  
May I believe my senses?  Triu. 
The very same.  
How could I think you loved an AEthiop?  Bell. 
Oh, any shape that carried you within it Drollingly.  
But where's the old Serpent, whose Skin you wear?  Triu. 
At my Lodging.  Bell. 
Oh the crafty old Quean! you paid her well for this. Who would have thought this wild fellow would have come upon so slight an invitation! But I'll make use of the occasion, for my Cousin Aurana's sake, and to plague my Husband for his jealousy. Aside.  
And who's this Black?  Triu. 
Oh, I shall die!— Oh, 'tis I, 'tis I Laughs. 'Tis he himself, indeed, Madam; the first of the name. An Original. Who should it be else?  Bell. 
Oh, I know him: the Statesman and the Courtier! Laughs.  Triu. 
And the most peerless Coxcomb that ever Nature made, or Art improved; but how he came hither in this reverend Form I was designed for, I cannot guests; unless it were by instinct to be jeered.  Bell. 
'Tis strange, unless my Husband sent him for a spy.  Triu. 
No, no, 'twas his destiny: no conceited trick could scape him.  Bell. 
Put on your Veil, and call him in. Calls him in.  Re-enter Intrigo 
Come hither, Sir; why do you injure yourself so much, by concealing your name? your grave and wise deportment, speaks you to be an excellent person, whom Fame has made known to me, by the name of Intrigo.  
No Clouds can keep the Sun from shining through 'em.  
How could your Parts and Prudence be obscured?  
Those Essences betray you.  Intr. 
Well, Madam. that you may not think your Favours misplaced, I will not say I am the person you speak of, but never a man in Italy could have managed this design with so much dexterity, as the person you wot of: and, now I have said so much of him, I must beg your pardon, I shall say no more.  Bell. 
You're a modest Man, Sir. Well, you are better read in Women, than to doubt my kindness to you. But this kind of Amours must be managed with much Prudence, Circumspection, and Taciturnity.  Int. 
Taciturnity! my own words! 'Tis a sign she likes 'em Aside.  Bell. 
Here is my Duegna, without whose consent we can do nothing. The greatest tie upon her secrecy, will be to make her party to the crime: make your addresses to her first, and oblige her with your Love. You know the Outworks must be taken, before the main Garrison: when that's done, I will not say you shall command me, but I leave you to guests it.  Int. 
Oh, Divine Madam. Malvezzi, nor Paruta could not have delivered a more Political Precept. Let me alone for this Province. Now the God of Love and Prudence assist me.  Comes up to Trivultio, and waits on him out most ceremoniously. Bell follows.  

SCENE, Grimani's House.  Aurana, Melinda: two, Duegna's attending them. Aur. 
With much ado I got leave to make this visit. Well, let us make the best use of our time, since our Fathers let us be together so seldom. How goes it with thy Heart, sweet Cousin, Does thy Lovers go true to 't?  Mel. 
As punctually as two Watches that are seldom wound up together.  Aur. 
My Cousin Bellinganna has just now sent me word to come to her House, where I shall meet my wandering dear Trivultio, and fix him.  Mel. 
How comes he there?  Aur. 
Nay, I know not.  Mel. 
And I'll tell you something more: we must all meet at the Doge's Villa; whence, if we ever part uncoupled, may opportunity never favour Flesh and Blood again.  Aur. 
Right; we are no frozen Lovers here in Italy. In lukewarm England, they'll slabber, kiss, make Love like Cats at midnight, break Gold, promise, contract, and sometimes ne'er enjoy, or Marry seven years after.  Mel. 
ay, I, they'll sit at dinner when their Meat is cold: Italian Stomachs scarce will stay for Grace.  Aur. 
Indeed I have heard 'em say, they're an odd sort of puling people in those parts, though they're something mended of late years.  Enter Grimani, and Visconti like a Frenchman. Mel. 
Now, Cousin, to let you see I'm as forward as you can be, do you know this Gentleman? a French Master of mine.  Aur. 
Ha, ha, he: Visconti! how oddly he looks!  Grim. 
Well, Mounsou, what wind brought you into these parts?  Visc. 
De natural inclinaseeon dat me have had from a Shield to see the World, and de Pays Estranger.  Grim. 
Very good. Of other Nations, none travel but rich Men, but the French go a begging all over the World, and live better than at home.  Visc. 
Me have ver good Estate in France, but me had de mal heur, to have a kerelle wid mien Cousin german, and had the good fortune to wound him dangerously wid de Boutevilles trust, Comme sa! (Fences with his Arms.) So me is retiré for a little, and in de mean teem, me do chercher de condiseeon.  Grim. 
A true Frenchman; for at their first acquaintance, they will tell you all the Quarrels, and all the Claps that ever they had, and show their Wounds in any part.— Aside. Well, Mounson, besides the speaking your own natural Language, what are the qualities you are good at?  Visc. 
Oh, me be good at the many ding; me can make the Perukes.  Mel. 
This speaks my Master a Man of Quality.  Visc. 
Me can sing as well as the Eunuch Italien.  Grim. 
I would he were one too, than I might securely admit him into my Family.— Aside. Well, what else Mounsou?  Visc. 
Oh, me can Fence, read the great Oarse, me is good Barbier, good Cuisinier, good Button-makere; and in case de necessité, me can mend de Breeshes, de Stockings, and the Ladies Cowns.  Grim. 
Oh the Monster! from riding the Great Horse, to Footing of Stockings! these travelling Frenchmen are like their Pottages, made up of every thing.  Aur. 
He Acts it rarely!— Aside.  Mel. 
But, Mounsou, methinks all these good qualities should maintain you in cleaner Linen.  Visc. 
Oh, the Nobless de France never put on the under Shirt but once in the half year; but for de Jentilesses dat appear, the clean Sleeve, and de clean Crevat, every oder month. Exeunt.   

The SCENE, Cornanti's House.  Enter Cornanti, Jacomo, Intrigo. Cor. 
Where had you this Black?  Jac. 
I bought him at the Porto Santo,  Cor. 
Methinks he is a better favoured Moor than ordinary.  Jac. 
ay, Sir, his Nose is not so flat as most of theirs, and he has not altogether such a black Mossy Pate.  Cor. 
I like him never the better for his good Features: but speaks he not our Language?  Jac. 
Not a word, Sir.  Cor. 
Oh, then 'tis well enough. But, a pox, these straitchined Moors will make plaguy signs to a Woman.  
Didst thou ever hear him speak?  Jac. 
ay, and understand him too.— My Master, I'm sure, speaks no Morisco; I'll pass for a Learned Man. Aside.  Cor. 
How didst thou come to learn their Language?  Jac. 
Oh, Sir, I was a Slave fourteen months at Algiers. I was taken in Cavalier Strozzi's Ship, about twenty years ago, and learned their Language so perfectly, that I was made Interpreter to the Ambassadors that came to the Governor.  
Oh, Sir, you shall hear. Have at you, Sir.  
Andiboron hoblicon hu.  Int. 
Now for some hard words or I'm undone. Aside pausing.  
Tirenatum tenoch comti.  Cor. 
What's that now?  Jac. 
Why, marry Sir, I told him, that you said he should be well used; and he made an answer, that showed a great deal of Respect, but little manners: in fine, 'tis a great compliment in their Country.  Cor. 
Come, come, what is it?  Jac. 
Why, Sir, the Sense of it is, He takes it to be an Honour to be employed in your most contemptible Offices.  Cor. 
Come, you're a Rogue: this is no humane Language; but the Dialect of the Barbary Stallions. Say that over again.  Jac. 
Dilloron losicon hu.  Cort. 
You Rogue you, that's not the same.  Jac. 
Pox o' this dull memory of mine. Aside scratching his Head. 'Tis very near the same, Sir. I confess I cannot now speak it so well; but never a man in Italy understands it better.  Cor. 
You're a bold Knave, Sirrah. I'll go in, to my Wife, and bring her to see her new Servant. Exit.  Int. 
This Steward, be like, is a grave well-lettered Man. He was Interpreter to the King of Algiers. Upon second thoughts, he must needs know that I speak not good Morisco. Now is the Critical time, in the absence of his Master, to bribe him to silence. Pray Sir, come near, here's something for you. Shows him a handful of Money.  Jac. 
Oh Lord, all Languages! this is sure the Devil himself. Trembles and starts. Nay, I see his cloven Foot too. Begins to run away.  Int. 
This fellow's going to tell. Runs after & catches him. Jacomo trembles. Intrigo offers him Money again.  Jac. 
Indeed, good Signior Diavolo. I dare not take it; for I am afraid I must give a Note under my hand for't, I have heard of many a good Soul lost by that means. Trembles.  Int. 
Come, come, I am no such person as you take me for: I am come hither, as many Heroes have done, upon a certain Politic, private account, or rather (under the Rose) Amorous one.  Jac. 
Indeed your Worship has got a very fine wooing Face. I guess who this may be. Looks upon him, and taketh heart. (Aside.) Well, if the Devil will make a man a Present, without a dangerous condition, I know not what should hinder him to take it. Takes the pieces. These are not Air neither, there is Flesh, and Blood, and Bones in 'em. Well, I will cut one piece of knavery into two pieces of honesty. First, I will take his Money, and let him make my Master a Cuckold: that's a valuable consideration; there's my Justice. Then will I dutifully acquaint my Master with it: there's my Fidelity. (Aside.) Well, Sir, I'll do your business for you. I thought indeed your Worship did not speak good Morisco. Laughs.  Enter Cornanti and Bellinganna. Cor. 
Come, Wife, how do you like the countenance of your new Servant?  Bell. 
'Tis hard to read a Book that Nature has so blotted: His Soul, I hope, is white and innocent.  Cor. 
It were not amiss to take the Latitude of his Capacity by his experience of our Fashions. Show him the Glass. Jac brings a Glass. Intr. looks in't.  Jac 
Your Negroship is rarely well adjusted.  
You want nothing but a white Peruig:  
Oh, 'twould set off your sweet Westphalian Hogsface. Intr. looks for his Face o'th' backside of the the Glass; and does many Apish things.  
Oh, do you want your scurvy Wainscot chops?  
ay, there they are, my pretty sweet Baboon.  Int. 
You might use some moderation in your abases. Intr. whisp. to Jack.  Jack. 
You look like an Ass, and you don't love to be told on't. Whispering.  Cor. 
What's that he says? the poor fool's afraid  
I should understand his Gibberish.  Jac. 
Truly, Sir, I am afraid your Worship and my Lady will be offended with me, if I tell you.  Cor. 
No, no.  Jac. 
Will you not indeed?  Cor. 
Upon my Honour I will not.  Jac. 
Why, then, Sir, he asks what Devil that is that stands by you, meaning my Lady.  Cor. 
Oh the innocent wretch!  Jac. 
Sir, in their Country the Devil's painted White, and their Beauties are all Blacks: you must excuse his ignorance.  Cor. 
ay, that I will, much rather than his knowledge.  
Come, come away, Wife. Exit with his Wife.  Jac. 
This Master of mine is one of the most prudent Cuckolds that I have known. He will stave it off a little longer. I wonder married Men do not more patiently submit to destiny: for these same Lovers will invent stratagems; and those are more talked of, than the feat itself; nay, they are writ of to Posterity, when many thousands of easy Cuckolds sleep in their Graves forgotten. Exit.  Enter Hircanio and Trivultio. Hir. 
Have you acquainted your Lady with my passion for her?  Triu. 
So; i'faith, here has been tampering with my Predecessor.— (Aside.) ay, I, Sir, and she receives it very well.  Hir. 
Has she appointed a meeting?  Triu. 
Not yet, Sir; but I'll go in and ask. If she is kind to him, 'tis more than I could obtain for myself. Exit.  Hir. 
So, so; she will open to the Golden Key.  
Oh the happy fortune!  Re-enter Trivultio. Triu. 
She will meet you this afternoon, in General Moccenigo's Wilderness, in the Walk of Statues; but you must bring your Passport along with you.  Hir. 
I understand thee: I'll present her nobly. Exit.  Triu. 
Farewell, Sir.  Enter Bellinganna. Bell. 
Was there ever such an old Goat as this Hircanio?  Triu. 
Was there ever such a frolic Saint as Bellinganna! Pulls off his Veil.  
Why do we dally thus with sacred opportunity?  Bell. 
Oh, Sir, I will serve you another way.  
You have a Passion for my Cousin Aurana,  
A rational desire at least: she's rich.  
My Husband's gone out, and will not be back a great while, and your Mistress will be here presently: put off all this ugly Habit, and appear like yourself. I hear the last time you were at the Church, you talked very coldly to her; now Court her with the Passion she deserves.  Triu. 
What a Witch have I made of myself, to no purpose! Would I were hanged if I grow not weary of these Fatigues of Fornication. Well, I'll take her counsel: Marriage is convenient. If my old humour return again, a rich Wife makes an excellent Bawd.   

The SCENE, a Street.  Four Armed Men, whereof Visconti is one, in his French Habit, ridiculously Armed. Visc. 
The Princess Parhelia has engaged me here upon one of her froliques: and I cannot play the fool in a better Habit.  1 Man. 
Why, Mounsou, you are provided for a seven years War.  Visc. 
How do me ken-now but me must feeght wid the Regiment des Espagniol; and begar, me do deseer to have de honeur of the first Sharge.  2 Man. 
Pray let him have it, for they seldom charge twice.  Visc. 
Me have de natural Antipaty to des Spagnols, and de Milanee, de Sujets of de Roy d'Espagne, and me de love to chercher l'occasion. Begar, dare is no man in de verld can feeght in de parties like a de French Academists, and de Metre Fence, and de Metre Dance, Francois. One Man will beat twantee. De agilité of de Hoarse in de Academiste, and of de Fout in de Metre Dance, and Metre Fence, Sa, Sa, here, dare: sometime de grand Saut de recoil, de pyroiste, de caprioles; de animee can no tell how to level the Muskets, nor de Guns.  3 Man. 
ay, Mounsou, I know he that kills a Frenchman, must shoot flying.  Visc. 
I begar: den dare is an oder ding, to kill a man wid the good grace, de bonne mine, and the address; 'twill do good to the anemee to be kill so.  1 Man. 
Here comes Sforza: now we shall hear some of the Lover's Litany. Clap on their Visors.  Enter Sforza, and knocks with his Key on his Hilt. Parhelia appears, masked, at the Window. Sfor. 
Still overcast? when will my Heaven appear?  Parh. 
Oh, Sir, this Mift will make the day more clear.  Sfor. 
I need not beg for flames t'increase my store;  
Yet Love is covetous, and would have more.  Parh. 
Is Love a Miser? he shall feed his Eye:  
Still look upon his wealth, but ne'er enjoy.  Sfor. 
Oh cruel Saint! that fatal voice revoke.  Parh. 
Then learn to hope for Fire, and Court the Smoke,  
Beauty's the Book of Fate, Fear my intent:  
'Tis better not to know, than not prevent.  Visc. 
De Diable is in does Love; no ding but de fear, the flame, the smock, the wound, the death, and de Bougre de Lovere is ver well, ver gay, fresh, frolic, and feel no pain in de vol verld! Ke Diable est Sa! They seize Sforza behind.  Sfor. 
Villains stand off. Visconti flies back.  Parh. 
Ai, Ai! Shrieks.  1 Man. 
How now, Mounsou? you have a natural Antipatee to the King of Spain's Subjects, you dare not come near 'em.  Visc. 
Dat is ver true, me do keep myself for the Reserve, dat is de kalitee of the good Soldat.  2 Man. 
Oh, I know the reason now, de Spagnol cannot kill you wid de good grace.  1 Man. 
Stand still, or you're a dead Man.  Sfor. 
Slaves, Dogs.  Parh. 
Murder, murder, Help, help. Sforza struggles to get his Sword, they disarm him.  Sfor. 
Cowardly Slaves, give me but leave to fight.  
The odds shall make no difference. Chair brought in.  1 Man, 
Into this Chair, Sir, quick: it is a mercy showed you.  Parh. 
Murder, murder, Help, help. Sforza is carried off, they guarding the Chair.  
She unmasks, So, is he gone? I'll be with him presently, and and Laughs search him to the quick. How bravely Visconti performed his part! Little does Sforza know, what pains Parhelia takes to cheat him of the Doge's Daughter. Woman scarce knows herself:  
Then who can search the Mazes of a Heart  
Where natural imperfection joins with Art? Exit  Enter Circumstantio and Intrigo. Cir. 
Mr. Black, you belong to some Nobleman of this quarter, did you not see my Master Signior Intrigo hereabouts.  Int. 
A new Trial! Pray Heaven he know me not.  
How should I know thy Master?  Circ. 
Oh every body knows him.  Int. 
However, 'twill be some delight to hear my own Character from a Domestic: Germanicus disguised himself in a Calfe-Skin to hear the commendations of his Soldiers, without offence to his modesty.  
Why, truly, when I was upon S. Mark's,  
He was there too; we came away together:  
But where he is now, you that are his Servant  
Ought to know better than another. This is no lie now.  Cir. 
But pray, Sir, let me know; I have some earnest business with him from the Doge's Lock-smith, that makes his Keys for the Privy Garden, and the Anti-Cameras,  Intr. 
I'm overjoyed I shall prevail for a Key; but this is no time to take notice of it. Aside.  
Why, honest friend; possibly your Master is in close Council with the Doge, or the Council of Ten; and therefore not to be spoke with.  Cir. 
Think you so indeed? I never knew any Man pretend to so much familiarity with the great ones, as he does: every morning our House is full of under-Clerks and Doorkeepers; and they get a world of Money of him, by feeding him with Lies, or impertinent Truths, by telling him how many Caps, and what clothes the Doge puts on every day; what he eats and drinks, and how many Stools he has.  Int. 
Your Masters a discreet Man, I will not say wise and grave: you do ill to abuse him.  Cir. 
What's that to you, Sir? I need none of your teaching, Goodman Black, 'Twas never a good World, since there were so many Black moors and Frenchmen in the Nation.  Int. 
You're a saucy Knave, Sirrah.  Cir. 
Call me saucy Knave, who am chief Man to Signior Intrigo, you whoreson Blackmore Dog you! No, Sir, I'd have you know, though my Master be one of the simpler sort of wise Men, yet, being his Servant, I'll take the Knave of ne'er a Man in Italy. Call me knave, you saucy Jack! Boxes him.  Int. shruging up his shoulders. 
Poor Circumstantio! yet he shows some respect to me in even his wrath: he glories in being my servant, and quarrelled with me in my own behalf, to uphold my Honor.  
These afflictions are incident to these great designs of going Incognito.  Cir. 
Incognito! do you steal my Master's words, you impudent Rascal you? my Honourable Master's own words? are such words fit for your mouth, you pitiful Rogue? have at you once more for your fine word Incognito, forsooth! Incognito, with a vengeance, Incognito. Beats him off. Exeunt.   

The SCENE, Cornanti's House.  Enter Trivultio, Aurana, Bellinganna. Triu. 
Ah, Madam, if my Sighs and Tears prevail not In a passionate posture.  
To expiate my last and fatal coldness,  
That undissolving Frost in so much Sunshine,  
That blindness caused by such excess of Light;  
Let Death the faithful services prevent  
Of one unpardoned, not impenitent.  Aur. 
Trivultio, how thou strivest t' undo thyself!  
You Act this part well; but your first's most natural.  
All sudden Converts are to be suspected.  
Maintain your Character:  
Be constant to yourself, if not to me.  Enter Hircanio at a distance. Hir. 
I have watched my Cousin Cornanti out, and now is a good time to talk farther of my business to the Duegna.— Ha! what Trade's here, my Daughter!  Bell. 
Come, Sir, we fear you not: this mettled Hern  
Shall spoil your Falcon for any other Game,  
And bruise his Wings. Your swellings and imposthumes  
Must be cured by constant strong Revultions.  
We'll open a great vein shall stop your heats,  
And bleedings at the Nose.  Triu. 
Say you so, Madam? Then, faith, dear Aurana, I love thee to that desperate extremity, that, if you'll take me in the humour, I am resolved to undergo the scorn of all wise Men, and my own repentance, and sneakingly submit to that solemn Conjuring Cheat called Marriage; though my Reason kecks at it, and I shall certainly swoon at the sight of a Priest.  Hir. 
Ha! what do I hear? as if this young fellow was to marry my Daughter? You impudent Slut, you, are these your harmless frolicks?  Aur. 
Aim, my Father! Shrieks.  Hir. 
Will nothing serve but Matrimonial Gambols? Come away with me, Huswife. Do you think to steal Procurators Daughters so easily? Exit with Aurana.  Triu. 
Oh, she's lost for ever.  Bell. 
I warrant you we'll retrieve her.  Enter Cornanti, peeping. Cor. 
Ha! Trivultio! have I caught the wild Beast in my toils? Exit.  Bell. 
How soon Hircanio forgot the errand he came about!  
In men of his age, their Avarice starves their Love.  Enter Jacomo and Cornanti, with a Sword ridiculously long, and a Target bigger than his Body. He stalks and looks toward Trivultio. Cor. 
Death and destruction, and a thousand torments  
Attend thy sinful Carcase, thou Planet-struck,  
And misbegotten Mortal! Have at thy lecherous Chine. Makes at Trivultio when his back is turned, who turns about, retires a little, takes up a Cushion, and makes him run back to the end of the Stage.  
'Sdeath, these Whoremasters, the Devil's in 'em  
At their Rutting time. He runs behind Jacomo, and pushes him on, peeping over his Shoulder.  
Thou'rt a Knave, Trivultio stand to him, Jacomo.  Jac. 
O Lord, Sir, I have never a Sword; but I'll talk to him. Thou 'rt a Knave, Trivultio. Stand to him Master. Runs behind Cornanti, and then Cornanti behind him, shifting two or three times.  Cor. 
'Slife, I think this Man of mine's an errand Coward.  Jac. 
Oh Lord, Master, I'm afraid of your Worship's Sword behind me, and would not take the Victory out of your hands,  Cor. 
'Twould anger a Man to be a Cuckold, and be killed too. I'll go call for help. Jacomo, lock the door upon 'em. Exeunt. Jacomo locks the door.  Triu. 
Did you ever see such Cowards! I'm sorry I did not force my way out: but now the door's locked, what shall we do, Madam? shall I leap out of the Window?  Bell. 
No, the Barrs are too close.  Triu. 
Or hide myself? Can you find no way for yourself and me? Now for a Woman's Wit at a dead life.  Bell, 
Put on your Duegna's clothes, quick, quick.  
Let's make haste, his Bandogs live but at next door. He catches up the clothes, and she helps him  Triu. 
But, Madam, he'll know I can't get out of the room.  Bell. 
No matter, dispatch. Now your Hoods and Muffler. Noise at door.  1 Man. 
We'll maul the Rogue.  2 Man. 
We'll make him sure.  3 Man. 
No, take him alive, and kill him by degrees. The door unlocked.  Enter Cornanti, with half a dozen Neighbours: himself and Jacomo in the rear of them. 1 Man. 
Where's the Rogue?  2 Man. 
Where's the Rogue?  Bell. 
What Rogue, Sir,? what d'ye mean?  Cor. 
What, have you hid him, Witch?  Bell. 
There has been none but I, and my Duegna here these four hours.  Cor. 
That shall not serve your turn, seek in the Alcove. They search within, and come back then search the Closets, Beds, and Trunks, and under them.  
I'm sure he could not get out here. Goes to the Window.  Bell. 
Are you distracted: Sir? whom do you seek?  Cor. 
Peace, Strumpet. Vigilia, dost thou know where he is?  Triu. 
Indeed, Master, I neither heard nor saw any body; I was in the Closet, Preserving, when your Worship and Jacomo was here: but I'll endeavour to find him out, an't be possible. Mayn't he be here? or here? or here? Looks up and down in the Cupboard, and the Chest of Drawers.  Cor. 
ay, Marry, a likely place!  Triu. 
Now I'm confident we have searched is much as is possible: there's only one Box more in the room.  Cor. 
Search it, search it.  Triu. 
Here 'tis, Sir. Gives him a Snuff-box.  Cor. 
What a Snuff-box! You Whore, do you abuse me: Kicks him.  1 Man. 
Pray, Sir, be patient; sure there is no body in the room, nor the Closet, nor Alcove.  Bell. 
'Tis strange, Sir, you should trouble your Neighbourhood, and abuse me for such a fancy.  Cor. 
Well then, now I find it, i'faith. Jacomo has betrayed me, and let him out. Oh you treacherous Villain!  
'Tis you, Sirrah.  Jac. 
No indeed, Sir, not I, nor any body else; for I stirred not a foot from the door, after I locked it.  Cor. 
Go, go, Sirrah, no excuse: provide yourself of another service. A fine juggle indeed! Walks about, and his back turned, Bellinganna comes to Jacomo.  Bell. 
Say you saw him not, and save yourself and me.  Jac. 
Turned away from the best service in Venice, for my honesty!— Why, Sir, I believe your Worship's mistaken; for I saw no body here, but my Lady and yourself, Sir.  Cor. 
Why, you impudent Rogue you, did you not see him, and speak to him by his name, and was afraid of him too?  Jac. 
Indeed I heard your Worship call one Trivultio all to naught, and I thought it was my duty to call him so too, and be afraid of him too; (how did I know but he might lie in Ambuscade, in the Alcove, and shoot us?) but the devil a'bit of Mankind did I see, but yourself, Sir.  1 Man. 
This is strange!  Cor. 
sayst thou so? The plain truth of it is, I did not hear him speak a word; but I'll swear I saw him, or his Ghost, as plain as I see thee.  2 Man. 
Thened must be some Spirit.  Cor. 
Think you so, friends? Verily, I must confess, I had an extraordinary fear and trembling came upon me; an Army of Men could not have frighted me worse.  3. Man. 
Why, then, 'tis as clear as the Sun, neither your Lady, nor your Servants saw him, and yourself did not hear him speak, nor touch him.  Cor. 
Methoughts I ran him through and through, yet he never cried ohs for't; and then, indeed, I began to be a little afraid.  2 Man. 
A body of Air, of the Devil's compounding: 't could be nothing else.  Jac. 
Why, Sir, Did you never hear the House was haunted before?  Cor. 
Never.  Jac. 
Why, Sir, we were loath to tell you on't; but, Sir, though I never saw any thing worse than myself in my life, yet I'll take my death on't, I have heard some things walk at midnight, when we have all been a bed and asleep.  Cor. 
O' my word 'tis more than I heard ever.  Triu. 
I believe so, if you were asleep. This is a rare Rogue, make much of him. Aside, to Bellinganna.  Cor. 
Well, neighbours, I thank you. Exeunt neighbours.  Jac. 
Madam, you're in my debt; but my Master much more. To her, Aside.  
Happy's the Man whose just doubts are defeated;  
Cuckolds are never glad not to be cheated. Exeunt.    

ACT III.  

SCENE I The Doge's Villa.  A Scene of Paradise, and Glorious Shows, with Music. Sforza walking in it alone. Sfor. 
NOw indeed the Lady in the Church is as good as her word. How suddenly these Women execute their designs! and how impatient they are in Love affairs! Looks about.  
A Glorious Prison! 'tis wondrous magnificent!  After some Music, a Cupid, or Angel held in the Air sings this Song. 

SONG.  
Take, Hero, take.  
The Presents, Wealth, and Beauty make:  
There's nothing else, that Mortals know.  
Is worth receiving here below.  
Time runs, Love flies;  
He that thinks least, is the most wise:  
And Fortune ever did approve.  
A present Wit in War, or Love.   

Stay, Hero, stay;  
The Gods grow envious at thy Prey;  
Or steal what's rare  
In haste; for Heaven does seldom care.  
Love and Ambition should conspire  
Mortals to please in one desire.   After this a Dance of Angels, Sfor. 
Sure this is Paradise itself!  Enter Parhelia gloriously dressed, attended with her Maids, all in Masques: she comes up to Sforza. Parh. 
Sir, you may judge, by th'actions of this hour,  
That I can keep my promise, use my power.  
Perhaps my Rival, by her needy Art  
And first assaults, has prepossessed your Heart;  
But though my Person, nor my Wealth, should find  
A room unfurnished in your well-built mind:  
I'll rather be for plain defects despised,  
Than for low cheats and false Perfections, prized. She and all her Women unmask: Sforza seems surprised.  Sfor. 
A most Celestial Beauty! Assift me, Virtue! Aside  
Madam.  
Great were my fortune, had it power to climb,  
And changing for the better, were no crime.  
Victorious Princes, Traitors do disdain,  
Though by their Treason they do profit gain.  
Ah! what rewards can his black thoughts suggest  
That makes a Present of a faithless Breast!  
A Ship full fraught with Stones, or worthless Sand,  
Should it take in a Prize of Plate, 'twould sink it.  Parh. 
Cast out your trash, make room for richer lading:  
Virtue may be an Hypocrite, and so may Beauty;  
But Riches never were: the Goods of Fortune  
Are visible, and wear no Masks. Points to the Furniture.  Sfor. 
Pity the Man that wars in every part:  
Eyes, with his Ears; and all against his Heart.  Parh. 
Silly Believer, canst thou take delight  
In a dark Mistress, 'cause she says she's bright?  
Didst ever see a Beauty always Masked?  
A Wit that never spoke? a Saint that never prayed?  
A Courtier never dressed? A Sun ne'er out of shade?  
Wouldst thou not, for a Palace, quit a Cell?  
For Sceptres, Spades, or for a Heaven, a Hell?  
Or would'dst thou not thy Soul to Heaven restore  
Because thou'dst signed the Devil's Bond before? Exit in a rage  Sfor. 
She's gone. Brightest of Angels, in form and intellect, couldst thou not find some nobler Mansions, uninhabited, to fix thy glories in, but thou must claim a Cottage all on fire already? Oh what a conflict's this? You Gods, that make unchangeable Decrees, assist my wavering constancy. I'll try if I be Captive still.  Goes to the door, and is stopped by the Vizored Men, that carried him away before. Guard. 
Whither now?  Visc. 
Whider now, Bougre Espagnol Milanois? Begar, me vill be revengé for me Metre the King de France. Cent coups de pieds, Bougre.  Sfor. 
The armed Masquerades here still! How can this be answered to the jealous Senate? a capital Crime.  Guard. 
Sir, you may have leave to walk in the Gallery, if you please. Here's your way. Exit Sforza and the Guard.   

The SCENE, Cornanti's House.  Bellinganna, Trivultio, Intrigo. Intr. courting Triu. 
Why do you thus Eclipse so quaint a Beauty?  
That radiant Face under such envious clouds,  Enter Cornanti and Jacomo. 
And stop the current of your fragrant breath?  Cor. 
Bless me! what do I hear? oh horrid! insufferable! The Moor in discourse with the Duegna? Treason, Jacomo, Treason.  Jac. 
What, is the fool talking to her, and sees not my Master? Aside.  Bell. 
What does she come on apace?  Int. 
Oh I, she softens; she will come Piani piano.  Cor. 
Oh heavens', my Wife tool Execrable Villain: fetch me my Dagger; I will let out his filthy black Soul.—. But stay!— may not he have some privy weapons about him?  Jac. 
Believe it, Sir, there are few Men that come about these stolen-Love businesses, but bring along with them sufficient Weapons.  Cor. 
Then call the Sbirri that live hard by.  Jac. 
There are two of 'em sitting at the door. Exit.  Int. 
Shall I approach this lovely Citadel? Taking Trivultio by the Hand  Triu. 
You are too bold, Sir, with the Sentinel.  Int. 
When shall I seal my Happiness, on these Vermilion Lips?  Bell. 
And yet he sees 'em not. Aside.  Triu. 
Indeed, Sir, I dare not venture the cold Air; but you may squeeze the Wax through the Paper, if you please.  Cor. 
Kissing too! fine work, i'faith! He Curtsies, and Intrigo kisses him with the Muffler on.  Enter Sbirri and Jacomo. Intr. 
When shall we interchange the duty of the Sexes?  Triu. 
Dear Sir, will you please to walk into a more private room?  Int. 
Oh, the easy conquest! See what it is to Court regularly! As he is leading ont Trivultio with great ceremony, the Sbirri clap him on the back.  Sbirri. 
I Arrest you of Treason, at the information of Signior Cornanti.  Intr. 
Me of Treason, that have (under the Rose) for these seven years, by my vigilance, preserved the State from Foreign Invasions, and Domestic Plots? I Arrested for Treason?  Sbirri. 
Rose me no rosing, but come away.  Int. 
Oh the disappointment! Breaking hands with Trivultio.  Bell. 
Oh Lord, my Husband! Starting back. Intrigo seeing Cornanti nods at Jacomo, who winks, and nods at him again. Intrigo cries out in a lamentable Gibberish.  Intr. 
Queki sini baskis. Ahi puli tinderis.  Cor. 
Did not I observe this Rascal talking to my Wife and Vigilia?  Intr. 
Cajiskis oily melan. Ahi polukis, Ahi.  Nodding and winking at Jacomo, who nods and winks again. Jac. 
Alas, good Signior Intrigo, this is worse than A hone, Ahone. No, Sir, I scorn to betray my Master. To come a spy thus from Taffaletta, Under the Rose, it was not well.  Int. 
Oh the false knave! Aside.  Cor. 
Bless me! is this Intrigo?  Jac. 
It must needs be he by his way of speaking.  
Never anyman was so deceived by a Rogue.  Cor. 
That grave knavish Fop! Away with him to Prison, away with him.— Ah you Whores! you Devil-ridden Witches! The Women run away. Knocking without. They open, Enter the Messengers of the Council of Death, with black Caps, like Death's Heads, with Maces and Tip-staves. They mome up, and show Cornanti their Maces.  1 Mess. 
In the name of the Duke and Senate, we Arrest you.  Cor. 
Arrest me! for what?  1 Mess. 
For Treason, in keeping intelligence with the Turkish Ambassadors.  Cor. 
Heavens guard my innocence.  1 Mess. 
And you are to appear before the Council of Death within this half hour.  Cor. 
Short warning, Heaven knows, for a man so spotless,  
And so deserving of the Common wealth.  
Oh! oh! Bewails himself.  Int. 
ay, Sir, 'tis present death. On the admirable wisdom of the Senate, to prefer the Public before the Private still that gives no time to any, though innocent, to defend themselves, when it is for the public good!  Jac. 
Honest Intrigo still!  Int. 
Oh, Sir, I could have told you of all this before; I knew the whole design of your Treason, the time, the place, your Confederates, the Orders of the Senate, the Critical Minute of your surprisal, and the utmost date of your miserable life.  Cor. 
Oh good Sir, I am so free from any open act,  
I never wronged the Senate in my thoughts.  Int. 
Take heed what you say, Sir. Do not I know the whole model of your business have not been employed, as an instrument, to convict you? and a spy upon your actions? Don't you see, under the Rose, how I disguised myself on purpose? Do you think this was a wooing Face?  Jac. 
Here's a turn i'faith! This Intrigo will prove a plaguy fellow.  1 Mess. 
Say you so, Sir? Then we summon you to appear before the Council.  Int. 
I shall most readily attend the Clarissimo's.  Cor. 
Oh, good Sir, pardon my misapprehensions of you; speak but the truth, and no more, and endeavour to support my oppressed innocence. Alas, Sir, you may have free access to my House, at anytime, and what sort of conversation you please with any of my Family, none excepted; very intimate, unrestrained conversation.  Jac. 
Very good i'faith, Oh that my Master could compound for one night's Lodging!  Bell. 
Ah, Husband, I doubt this was a judgement upon you, for your causeless jealousy. How could I prevent this?  Triu. 
ay, and your distrust of your poor old Servant.  1 Mess. 
Come, Sir, the time draws on.  Jac. 
But hold a little, my Masters. A fools bolt is soon that By what authority do you do this?  1 Mess. 
What authority, Sir? To satisfy your fools head, here's our Commission.  Shows a Writing with the Seal of the Senate: Jacomo reads it, and Cornanti trembles. Jac. reads. 
Dominieo Loredano, the most Serene Doge of Venice, to the Officers of the Council of Death. Whereas we are informed, that certain wicked and disloyal persons have attempted most unchristianly to betray the secret Deliberations of this Senate, to the Ambassadors of the Grand Signior, and have seduced, into their couspiracy, a certain Senator, Aulo Foscarini— Is Foscarini the man you seek for?  All Mess. 
ay, the very same.  Cor. 
But my name is Cornanti.  Jac. 
Look in your Commission.  2 Mess. 
I cannot read.  1 Mess. reads 
I, Sir, 'tis Foscarini indeed, and there is no other name in the Commission.  2 Mess. 
'Sdiggers, I remember 'twas a long name, and had four Syllabubs to't, as they call 'em.— Foscarini: Cornanti; that's too short. I'll take my death on't 'twas Foscarini.  1 Mess. 
But we were told this Foscarini lived here.  Jac. 
The mistake was easy; he lives within three doors.  
Have a good Heart, Master, all's well.  All Mess. kneel. 
We humbly beg pardon of your Magnificence.  Cor. 
ay, I, 'tis well enough. 'Slid, I can hardly recover myself to talk to these Rogues. Sirrah, take heed— hereafter how a man of my Robe—  Jac. 
Avaunt, you Rogues; we'll trounce you.  Cor. 
But, hark you, friends; though I'm clear of this Treason, here is a certain Gentleman knows of a Treason, the time, the place, the Confederates; and was employed, under the Rose, as a spy; to betray a Senator in his House, as you may see by his Face: you had best seoure him.  Jac. 
'Tis pity indeed he should lose his labour: let him be hanged first, and examined after. 'Tis all for the public good still.  1 Mess. 
Indeed our Commission extends not so same; but if your Magnificence please to command us, or so, we'll venture.  Intr. 
Oh, good Signior Cornanti, let me rather go with my friends here, the Sbirri.  Cor. 
Oh, by no means. This could be no wooing Face; but a most dangerous Politic Calf's Face.  Intr. 
You will I exercise my patience, and not betray my Mistress, nor the ocassion of my coming. Why should Harebrained fools triumph upon my infidelity. Aside.  Cor. 
You would not aim so low as a Woman! the Public! over as long as you live, before the Private. Therefore good Sbirri, take him for once; and be sure you let him have no private room, but the abominable, public, stinking hole, amongst the poor prisoners: there let him lie, under the Rose, still.— This was a judgement upon me, Wife, and you, old Witch, for distrusting you, was it not! Messengers, you may be gone. Sbirri, away with him. Exit Messengers.  Int. 
I thought I should have no good luck this day, for putting on my Breeches before my Doublet, and saying my Prayers before I washed my hands.  Exeunt Sbirri, Intrigo, and Jacomo. Cor. After a turn or two with his Wife, 
Well, Wife, 'tis enough; I believe you: this fellow's fool enough to attempt any ridiculous thing without encouragement, and Jacomo might be deceived in him. But, deal ingenuously with me, was you never Courted by Trivultio?  Bell. 
Good Sir, be patient, and I'll tell you all. That there was ever any allowance to his Courtship, on my part, I utterly deny; but that he has made some addresses to me, I will not be so unjust to you as to conceal it.  Triu. 
Now shall I go th'pot next i'faith.  
Plague of all Womankind. Aside.  Cor. 
But how, and where?  Bell. 
Why, Sir, at my Chamber Window, with Serenades.  Cor. 
But was he never within doors?  Bell. 
Did not you find that was a mere delusion?  Cor. 
True; but it runs in my head still. He's a wicked fellow, the Devil would never have come in his shape else. But go on.  Bell. 
At last, tired with his importunity, I appointed him a meeting this afternoon about this time, in General Moccenigo's Wilderness.  Triu. 
Ha! what means this? A Man can never dive to the bottom of these Women, Aside.  Cor. 
How a meeting? an unlawful meeting?  Bell. 
No, good Sir, no unlawful one: there's to be none but us two there.  Cor. 
A dangerous lewd Conventicle.  Bell. 
But you know I have no power to go out, unless you give me leave, for once, or so.  Cor. 
Oh rare!  Bell. 
Come, Sir, in short, the whole scope of my design is, to give you satisfaction; therefore go along with me, and when you find his intentions, vindicate my Honour and your own, with all the severity Revenge can dictate.  Triu. 
Oh, now I understand her.  Bell. 
Meet me there, in your own Habit if you dare; To Trivultio apart.  
You have made my Husband jealous, you are bound  
To cure him of it, or suffer for't.  Cor. 
Brave wench, now I see thou art honest; but if thou hadst not a mind to be so, all the Devils in Hell could not compel thee to it. Come away. Exeunt.   

SCENE, A Gallery in the Doge's Palace.  Sforza walking alone in it. Sfor. 
Sure, if this Carnival continued long.  
The Women would run mad: three to one Man?  
The Ravisher, th' Admonisher, the Courtier.  
Two Suns reflected streaming from the true one:  
Yet those two last could never be the first;  
But sure one Person, her Rival, or Opposer.  
The Lady in the Church, she threatened what she 'as done.  
Well, my Dear first made the most decent Courtship:  
She did more Love, and they more Rage express;  
Her Heat was greater, though her Flame was less.  
Yet I could wish her Beauty equalled this. Pauses a little.  
I'll never doubt Nature could err so much  
To take ill Lodging for so great a Guest  
The Face is but the Copy of the mind,  
Then sure 'tis glorious.  
The Structure's noble; sure the Front is fair.  
Suppose it were not, must I then recede  
From first Engagements, without just offence?  
Love, like a weight, thrown in by force, prevails;  
But Honour weighs more in unshaken scales. One of the Guard steps to him, and delivers a Letter.  Guard. 
Sir, an old Gentleman, that past by the Gate, gave me this, with ten Checquins, and the promise of as many more, to deliver it safe to your hands: but the discovery may cost me my life. Pray be secret.  Sfor. 
Hold.  Guard. 
I dare stay no longer.  Sfor. reads. 
If your Love be equal to mine, your resentment is as great for our violent separation. You are a Prisoner to no less a person, than the Princess Parhelia, the Doge's Daughter, who will spare no desperate attempt to give herself satisfaction. But I will suddenly redeem you from this Captivity, if your constancy deserve so great a favour. Kisses the Letter.  
Ah, my dear Saint, than the debate is ended.  
No, no, she shall not; I can free myself:  
He that dares die, can never be a Slave,  
But cheats a Tyrant of his sweet revenge.  
Yet there is hope still, she may send some Men  
To force the way in; I can second 'em.  
But though I were alone, shall I be forced to do  
What Honour chides me for? Great God's 't shall never be.  
I should not fancy to be forced to Heaven;  
At least, by any Earthly Power.  Enter two Ghosts of Bassa's, with their Turbans, and Winding sheets, and a great many other Turkish Ghosts attending them. Thunder and Lightning, and the place darkened like Hell: Sforza starts, than recollects himself. 
No, nor Infernal. They stalk dismally about him, with their Scymeters drawn, brandishing at him. Sforza looks for his sword, and finds none.  
And must I be their naked Prey?  
Caesar, unarmed, veiled with his Robe his Face,  
And was ashamed, but not afraid to die:  
So let me perish; but sure I know these Ghosts.  
Turks all; and their brave Leader Achmet.  
Ibrahim too; both slain with my own hand.  
No mercy now sure.  Ach. 
Prepare, prepare, To turn thyself too Air. Sings to a dismal Tune.  
An injured Turk, made fiercer by the shades,  
Thy life invades.  Ibra. 
Stay, Achmet, stay; For I will share the Prey:  
The Blood of Man's too sweet. As thou drankst mine,  
I'll quaff off thine.  Chorus of other Turks. 
Heroic Dust, Be not unjust;  
Each Mussleman, that his vile hands have stain,  
A piece obtain.  Altogether. 
By Pluto sent, we draw Terrestrial breath,  
And offer thee too fair, or Love, or Death.  Sfor. 
Is this your business after Death, great Souls?  
I thought you had been rolling among heaps  
Of naked Beauties, with Eternal vigour!  
Then know, fierce Ghosts, Devils improved to Turks,  
If your own Hell were open, I'd sooner leap in't,  
Than do a crime that should deserve it. The Ghosts walk off leisurely as they came in, with Thunder and Lightning. Sforza walks about a little.  
The Doge's Daughter turned a Sorceress!  
A brighter Angel yet than any fell  
With Lucifer's illustrious train of Rebels.  
Oh that the virtuous Prince could hear of this!  
But I must never live to make relations.  
All power's continued by the same ways 'twas got;  
Then doubt not Death, or Marriage. Pauses.  
Death, 'tis the least of evils, or a good,  
Because it ends 'em; courted by Boys,  
For loss of Pins and Counters; and by Females,  
For lesser toys: mastered by every passion,  
Love, Revenge, and Grief. Shall it obey  
The Slaves of Reason then, and not their Master?  
Death's the dark entry to more pleasant Mansions,  
The opening of the Scene to show us things more glorious;  
The first flight of the mewed and hooded Soul.  
It is the starting place, and not the Goal.  
What is't we live for? tell life's finest tale?  
To eat, to drink, to sleep, to fill, and empty,  
Love and enjoy, t'enjoy and love no more?  
To talk of things we know not, and to know  
Nothing but things not worth the talking of,  
Insipid Acts, by repetition, nauseous?  
Who would not die for curiosity?  
A Female, sickly, childish, puking Vice,  
Faith, Fortitude, Affliction: cease your Trumpets,  
For Nature's errors fright such Enemies.  
My Soul is but in Lodgings for a Term,  
Nature, her Landlady, may turn her out.  
True, were the House my own, I would take care  
T'imbellish it, and keep it in repair,  
Make it impregnable 'gainst Force and Time,  
To die were Folly, and to Fight a Crime;  
But since Death's unavoided Arrow flies  
From Foes, Diseases, and from Women's Eyes:  
Let's nobly court our Fate, sweet'ning the Race,  
With the full Gallop, not the fearful Pace.  Enter Parhelia gloriously dressed: She comes towards him. Parh. 
What, can you love, or die, Sir?  Sfor. 
Both, Madam. Love  
They says our only business after death.  Parh. 
And 'tis the great and noblest cause of life  
Cannot the greatest fortune in the State persuade you  
To quit your passion for a killing Mask?  
Pray go to th' Tire-Shops, you may chance to find  
A better featured one.  Sfor. 
You're very pleasant, Madam,  
If Love want Rhetoric, how shall Fear persuade?  Parh. 
'Twas Fear that moved your choice to such an object,  
That would provoke no Rivals.  
No, Sir, you need not doubt that we will force you:  
'Twas but to try how wise a man you'd prove,  
How fit to make a Sovereign in Venice.  
You may have liberty to court your Vizor;  
Yet know you're in my Net still. Guards let him pass.  Sfor. 
That grant of liberty, sweetens all your sharpness. Guards let him out at one door. Exit Parhelia at the other.   

The SCENE, General Moccenigo's Wilderness by the Walk of Statues.  Cornanti and his Wife, with six or seven Bravoess Armed, following him. Bell. 
This is the place I appointed to meet Trivultio at Lay your Men in ambush hereabouts, and stand you behind this Arbour, and when you discover the wickedness of his intentions, call out the Bravoes to pistol him.  Cor. 
But you must appear to be very forward and kind, to make him the bolder, that I may have the juster cause to kill him.  Bell. 
Very well thought of; but take notice, I'll make you some sport before, which you must not be angry at.  Cor. 
No unlawful sport, I hope?  Bell. 
Fie, fie, Sir; I mean with another business. Cornanti gets behind the Arbour, and his Bravoes under the Hedges.  Enter Hircanio. Hir. 
This is the Walk in the middle of the Wilderness, I was to meet her at— And there she is. Oh the blessed Image! Madam,  
For the redemption of my Captive-Heart,  
Or its good usage in its slavery,  
Be pleased to accept this knot of Diamonds:  
Too small an offering to so fair a Shrine.  Bell. 
A very fair Jewel. Taking, and looking on it.  Enter Hircanio's Wife. Wife. 
I had notice from a friend, that my Husband was to meet a Lady here. ay, here's the Rogue presenting her with something.  Hir. 
Death, here's my Wife Sees her and begins to steal away.  Wife. 
Ah you old Goat you, have I caught you?  
Did I ever deny you at home, you false Man?  
Oh thou impudent perverter of Mankind! Turns to Bell.  
Hast thou the conscience to defraud an Honest Woman of the dues that her portion paid for?  Follows her Husband off stolding. When they are gone off, out comes Cornanti. Cor. 
Brave Wench, i'faith! Ha, ha, he. Didst not thou send for his Wife?  Bell. 
ay, I Sir; take the Jewel, and to your place again. He retires.  Enter Trivultio in his own Habit. Bell. coming up to Trivul. 
Dear Sir, I'm sorry my pretended coyness  
Has so long exercised your patience.  Triu. 
Oh, Madam, such high blessings deserve some expectation.  Bell. 
But, Sir, I shall no longer torture your desires.  Triu. 
Faith, Madam, Lovers are hard labourers,  
'Tis pity to keep back their wages.  Bell. 
Dear Trivultio, I am wholly thine. She runs to him and embraces him  Triu. 
How can that be, when the illustrious Senator, Starting.  
Your Husband may plead an elder Title?  Bell. 
His was by purchase, Sir; but yours free gift.  Triu. 
You're very liberal of what's not your own.  
I'll ne'er grow rich by robberies: Venetian Commons  
Are well stocked; I'll never break enclosures.  Bell. 
Dear heart, what needs this nicety? this is not  
A place for compliment, but execution.  Cornanti may appear here, peeping ridiculously from behind the Arbour. Triu. 
Oh, impudence! Know, Madam, than I came to try what I could searce believe; but knowing it, abhor the injury, intended against my noble friend; which I durst not acquaint him with, till by this circumstance assured. I say, against my friend, and my Father's old Friend. 'Tis true, he refused to lend me Money; but I know he did it for my good.  Bell. 
Well, well, thou'lt never leave thy drolling, Trivultio.  Triu. 
No, no Madam, the Dignity of a Senator is not so cheaply to be valued. Were I disposed to those voluptuous sins, I'd quench my Flames in common Waters, and not corrupt the noble Streams, to vitiate a Race of Princes.  Bell. 
Come, come, Sir, you do but jest. She hangs upon him, he shakes her off: she comes and fawns again.  Triu. 
Nay, then I'll be in earnest. Oh you vile Strumpet; abuse my noble friend, and an illustrious Senator! 'Tis: private justice, and 'tis public too, to scourge thy sinful Carcase. Seems to beat her violently with his Cane.  Cornanti comes out from behind the Arbour, and interposes. Cor. 
O spare my Wife, spare my Wife, she's Honest, she's very honest.  Triu. 
Bless me! the noble Clarissimo! How came you here, Sir? you're too good natured; no, no, it cannot be. Goes to beat her again.  Cor. 
Hold, hold, for the Lord's sake: she is indeed, and placed me here to watch you.  Triu. 
She place you? 'twas a cunning honest trick of her. A man had been finely served that had come with a dishonest intent, la.  Bell. 
I could do no less than acquaint my Husband with your solicitations.  Triu. 
Nor I, than to vindicate his Honor. Pray, Madam, pardon my Zeal to your Husband.  Cor. 
Dear Trivultio, now shall I esteem thee, as the most faithful friend that I have in the World: my House and my Coffers are all open to thee.  Triu. 
Oh, good Sir, Virtue's its own reward.  Cor. 
That ever I could imagine there should be any baseness in my old friend, Cavalier Trivultio's Son, that noble Gentleman! Dear Wife, I am sorry for thee: how is it, Honey?  Bell. 
Well enough, if it may tend to your satisfaction.  Cor. 
I shall never harbour an ill thought of thee, as long as I live again. Such a Wife and such a Friend! Kisses her. But this old satire Hircanio! I cannot choose but laugh at him How his Wife peppered him! Come, come away, my dear sweet Rogue!— to my House, to rejoice with me and my Wife, upon this admirable confirmation, and settlement of my thoughts.  Bell. 
Now have I honestly accomplished one of my designs, to cure my Husband of his causeless jealousy: the next is, to help this wild young fellow to a Wife, to reclaim him.  Cor. 
Come let's away. Such a Wife, and such a Friend! Exeunt.    

ACT IU.  

SCENE I. Cornanti's House.  Cornanti in a modish Habit, broad Hat, open Breast, stiff Pantaloons, etc. Corn. 
HOw easy and light do I find myself, since I shaked off this lazy disease of Jealousy! methinks I am not the same man. Let me see. (Takes out his Pocket-Glass.) Why, no: thou liest in thy throat, old Cornanti, if thou sayst so. I renounce thee and thy Works. Well, now that I am new rigged and trimmed, will I launch out into the Ocean of Bravery, and rout whole Squadrons of jealous Cuckolds. Woe be to the yellow Flags. What a world of Mistresses might a Man make, while he sits brooding over, and watching one Wife!  Enter Bellinganna. 
My Wife has not seen me in my new clothes yet.  
I'll try if she knows me. Pray, Madam, what's become of the jealous Coxcomb, your Husband?  Bell. 
You're very bold with him, Sir. Not at home. This is some intimate acquaintance of my Husband's; Aside. they will abuse him sometimes. 'Tis a flat-nosed ugly fellow: he looks like one of my Husband's Bastards.  Cor. 
Abuse me! I'll try my Rhetoric.  Bell. 
'Slife, I think 'tis my Husband himself! How these fashionable clothes, and white Peruigs, (the great Levellers of Faces) alter Men! But I'll take no notice of him.  Cor. 
Is't possible so exquisite a Beauty  
Can rest contented in such frozen Arms?  Bell. 
Oh very well, Sir: I love to lie cool.  Cor. 
Troth, Madam, to be plain with you, your Husband's my old acquaintance, and friend, my second-Self, and I have a great inclination to oblige him with a pair of Horns.  Bell. 
Have you indeed, Sir? I know not what you see in me, can justify this liberty of talking. Be mannerly, or begone, Sir.  Cor. 
Well, well, Madam, I'll talk of something else. I was something the more free to droll with you, because they say your Husband, that was one of the most jealous Owls in nature, is now perfectly cured, and convinced of your honesty. I am the most contented Man the Earth bears.  Bell. 
Why, are you such a man?  Cor. 
I mean, Madam, He said he was. What a Blockhead am I!  Bell. 
Now will I torment him a little. You're a goodly Man indeed to talk of being my Gallant! If I would be concerned with any man in the World, it should be Trivultio. Ah, what a Genty man is this Trivultio!  Cor. 
Hell and Devils, Oh the crafty Strumpet! 'Tis too true I see. Goes to draw his Sword: she runs up to him.  Bell. 
Why, Husband; pretty, smug-faced Husband, did not I know thee? why wouldst thou conceal thyself? I was resolved to vex thee a little for't.  Cor. 
Oh, was it nothing else? well enough. I did begin to relapse.  Bell. 
Why, Husband, you're another manner of Man. Pretty smirking Rogue, come kiss me.  Cor. 
That I am i'faith: I defy all the young fellows in Town for a Gallant. That I do, so I do.  Enter Eunuch. Eun. 
Madam, yonder's Signior Hircanio without.  Bell. 
Very good: bid him come in; I'll leave you. Exit.  Cor. 
ay, I; that will make rare sport.  
This Jealousy, what is't? A dream of Horns.  
What if I dreamed of Tails, or cloven Feet,  
And had no real blemish?  
Suppose the Feat was done, what is it then?  
A wound of Honour, but without a pain:  
The running through of a Ghost, the letting blood of Air,  
The killing a Chimaera.  
honour's a Shadow, that a Shadow's Dream.  
Uncharitable Error, Vice of Plenty,  
A senseless fright  
That you want that of which you have too much.  
Is a Face worse for being seen: a voice for being heard  
By others? A Hand, an Arm, a Mouth, and so the rest,  
For being touched, if they be unremoved?  
Did I imagine that I wanted Arms, or Legs,  
And had them still, were I not more ridiculous  
Than loss of them could make me monstrous?  
It was not so, when Men in Commons ranged,  
When every Male had Herds of hungry Females,  
When Lechery was ruled by public Votes,  
And Lovers, chose like Magistrates  
In cautious Commonwealths,  
The shorter time, the better for the Public;  
Then from full Meals they interchanged their Dainties,  
But since we were restrained to little Chops.  
And slender Messes, it is our poverty  
That makes us narrow-souled, and envious,  
Snarling at every Passenger comes near  
Our stinking close-picked Bone.  Enter Hircanio. Hir. 
May I make bold to interrupt your Solitude?  Cor. 
A worse diversion were a favour, Sir. Faith, Sir, 'tis ill halting before a Cripple, I believe you're of my mind, you take an opportunity to visit the Lady, when her Husband's out of doors.  Hir. 
Oh fie, Sir, she's a person of Honour,  Cor. 
Be not so over-wise, grave Sir; I'll deal frankly with you; I'm before hand with you: look, Sir; do you see this knot of Diamonds? A small gift of hers.  Hir. 
Death? my Jewel. This the happy Favourite: we spend to maintain others. But pray, Sir, did you ever obtain the Favour?  Cor. 
Why, is not this a great one?  Hir. 
ay, I; but the favour t'enjoy her, Sir.  Cor. 
Why, what d'ye think, we're no such Lenten-Lovers here in Italy, Jove be praised: I've lain with her five hundred times.  Hir. 
Oh the happy Man! but is she not a rare Bedfellow?  Cor. 
Faith, so, so: if it were not that she smells a little too much of the Frangipani in hot weather. But did you never kiss her too?  Hir. 
Never but in a civil Salute, or so.  Cor. 
Oh than she stops her Wind: but she has a breath more poisonous than the Pump-water of a Ship that never Leaks. The Devil's in him if he likes her now. Aside.  Hir. 
Oh pray, Sir, then spare your leavings, and speak a good word for me: I may chance to find you a Buona-Roba in another place.  Cor. 
Say you so, Sir? I'll go about it straight.  Hir. 
Do, good Sir.  Cor. 
But remember your promise to Pimp for me, good grave Senator: 'tis an Honourable employment, and fit for none but Statesmen. Exit.  Hir. 
I'll not fail, Sir. This is the most hopeful way; for I fear her appointment in the Wilderness was treacherous.  Exit at the other door.  

The SCENE, A Street.  Sforza walking in it, and stopping over against the Prison where Intrigo is. Sfor. 
So, now I know where I am: here dwells my Goddess. Knocks on the Hilt, then Hems, Intrigo appears at the Grate.  
Oh, now my Heaven appears; but clouded still.  
Dear Saint,  
Did ever mortal suffer so much violence?  Int. 
Trust me, this noble Count, with Candour and Familiarity, owns my afflictions, is come to see me, and calls me Saint, because of my persecutions. Aside. Certainly, Sir, it was a most unexpected and inhuman restraint.  Sfor. 
ay, to be hurried and halled away by force,  
And mewed up in a kind of enchanted Castle.  
The Lady has caught cold by her voice. Aside.  Int. 
ay, and terrefyed and threatened, and kept prisoner, without any Ground or Reason. Parhelia looks out at a window hard by.  Parh. 
Yonder's the Count has stumbled upon some other masked Lady: some mistake. I must go to him: is he mad?  Intr. 
Verily, dear Sir, this was the most unjust captivity that ever was, since the Jews were in Babylon.  Sfor. 
ay, or the Spaniards under the Moors, in Granada.  Int. 
Ha, Moor! does he abuse me? 'Tis true, I could not get out this Black yet. Aside. What e'er the occasion was, is more than every body's aware of; but some shall hear on't on both sides of their Ears.  Sfor. 
Nay, pray forget it now: Ladies hands strike gently.  Int. 
Well considered indeed, and 'tis good manners to kiss the Rod, and bear it patiently.  Sfor. 
Why do you reproach me with my patience?  
Where shall I find the Offenders? I'll tell you the whole story.  Int. 
How, can you tell my story better than myself?  Sfor. 
Methinks the Lady speaks not pertinently. Aside.  
True, there was a Letter sent from a Lady.  Int. 
Now does he abuse me, for taking up Bellinganna's Note. Aside.  Sfor. 
Which I took to be yours. You might hear something; but you saw nothing, but the beginning of the business.  Int. 
What means this? Aside.  
But I hope I shall see an end on't shortly.  Sfor. 
Of what, dear Madam? Why do you speak so mystically? Must your Sense, as well as Face, be still obscured from me?  Int. 
Does he call me, Madam? Without doubt he abuses me. Aside. For all your scoffs, Sir, some Ladies may have worse Faces; though, I confess, I am a little Sunburnt at present.  Sfor. 
Oh pardon me, Divinest Beauty, my Faith's as strong as ever.  Int. 
Why, worse and worse? I can endure no longer.  Enter Parhelia veiled. Sfor. 
I have incensed my Goddess.  Parh. 
Well, what's the matter, Count?  Sfor. 
Here comes the Enchantress.  Parh. 
Another Mistress? What, are you mad; or turned inconstant?  Sfor. 
Avoid, Satan: you impudent Magician, Sorceress; the Earth shall swallow me, before I'll leave my first Engagements.  Parh. 
Why? I'm your first.  Sfor. 
'Tis self, you Witch, Medea, Conjurer.  Parh. 
There's, no talking to him now; but I'll stay to see th' event.  Sfor. 
Concealed Divinity, offended Goddess Falls down on his knees towards the Prison.  
Once more impart thy Glorious Rays,  
And visit thy immutable Adorer. Plays and makes most loving Grimaces.  
Pedro, my Guittar.  Int. 
Ha! some Music! Putting out his Head farther than ordinary.  Parh. 
Ha, ha, he! Intrigo in Prison, black as he was at my Cousin Bellinganna's, which you take for a Masque; and here's the Prison. Come, view your Mistress nearer.  Sfor. 
Death, 'tis the grave fool indeed!  Int. 
Abuse me still! Oh the ignorance of Mankind, that judges all things by the event! Withdraws.  Parh. 
Look here, that's my window I spied you from.  Sfor. 
True, this is the place undoubtedly: now I remember it. Falls on his knees to her.  
A thousand pardons, Madam, if't be you.  Parh. 
Nay, I'll convince you. Come, go in with me into my  
House, and thence into some public place,  
Where you shall see her who your faith has tried,  
And judge, if well or ill, your Virtue was employed. Exeunt.  Enter Jacomo, knocks at the Prison door, the Jailor opens the door. Jac. 
Sir, Signior Cornanti has ordered you to release Intrigo.  Jay. 
Very well, Sir. Exit.  Jac. 
Methinks this imprisonment should, have so mortified him, that we shall hear no more of his Love-Adventures at our House: but 'tis ten to one but he will be launching out upon some new design. He can no more conceal his counterfeit Wisdom, than a beggarly Gallant can stay within doors. with a Copper-laced Suit.  Enter Intrigo and Jailor. 
Grave Signior Intrigo, you are enjoined not to speak a word of the occasion of your coming to our House. Farewell, Sir, Exit.  Int. 
This release was certainly procured by some overture from the amorous Lady, and the mollified Duegna,  
I will patiently expect another Summons. Exit.   

The SCENE, the Doge's Palace, with the same Furniture as before.  Sforza walking in it with his veiled Mistress. Sfor. 
Bless me, great Gods, what do I see, my glorious Prison! the very same Room, the same Furniture, and the same Guards in Masks! The Princess unveils, and he falls on his knees.  
Oh Heavens, the selfsame person!  Parh. 
What, will you yet adore your shamefaced Idol?  
(Sure she's an Angel, 'cause invisible)  
Or must I force you once again? Drollingly,  Sfor. 
Mysterious Goddess,  
Blame not my disobedience, misled by duty.  
I'm yours by such a cloud of Titles, that I'm lost in't:  
Slave to your Beauty, Subject to your Wit,  
And Captive to your Power, but as wise Princes  
Who conquer Kingdoms, though by Law their own,  
Claim by the Sword as the sublimest tenure,  
And scorn all other wrangling competitions:  
So let me be the Vassal of your greatness;  
(Though Wit and Beauty, Empires without Arms,  
Chain me too fast) kept in material Shackles;  
And in the meanest Drudgeries employed,  
Where I may view my Tyrant's glorious Image.  Parh. 
I'll not mistrust your Virtue, nor my Charms;  
Your constancy has made me value both;  
Nor call him Captive that's invincible:  
Love's no Usurper, but a Natural Prince;  
So good, he needs no Laws nor Customs to  
Restrain him; nor to protect him, Arms:  
Harmless with Forces irresistible;  
Invulnerable with naked Innocence.  
Then you shall be my Prisoner, but at large;  
Confined from nothing Love invites you to  Sfor. 
And Honour shall be judge what Love shall do.  Enter Cornanti leading Aurana, and Trivultio leading Bellinganna. Corn. 
A jolly company i'faith, if we had the Fiddles. Walks about Singing.  Parh. 
What, broke loose again, Cousin?  Aur. 
Pray, Madam, how came you to hear of my escape?  Parh. 
Oh, my Cousin Bellinganna and I, have kept a constant correspondence. Well, Count, that you may not be miserable alone, here are some other fellow-Prisoners to Matrimony.  Sfor. 
If happiness may be increased by participation, or if I can receive any addition to what I have already, it is to see my friend Trivultio so.  Triu. 
Thanks, dear Count  Sfor. 
But, Madam, one doubt remains yet unresolved;  
Who were your Angels, and who your Ghosts?  Parh. 
These were my Ghosts: Pointing to her Guards.  
And these my Angels. Pointing to her Women and Pages.  Cor. 
I have a pretty crochet just now come into my Head: Yonder Parhelia and Bellinganna talk together. Trivultio, o'my conscience, is very honest, and would not cuckold me, if he might; and my Wife's a Woman of Honour: I have tried 'em both; therefore will I cuckold him. Ah quill est doux de fair, son cher amy Cocu. Come hither pretty Soul, I do intend to make Trivultio my Heir: will you give me leave to visit you, when your Husband's from home?  Aur. 
'Twill be the greater favour, Sir, that you will own me in his absence.  Cor. 
So, so; Done and Done; as plain as up and ride. Look how the poor fellows looks at me! As jealous Triu. and Bell. pry at him, and counterfeit a jealousy. as a Goose! And my Wife too! ay, Sir, if you knew how near you were being a Cuckold! (Laughs.) How sneakingly a man looks that's jealous! (Aside.) But, me thinks the Rogue begins to look a squint at me.  Triu. 
I'll fright him a little. Hark you, Sir, do you endeavour to corrupt my Mistress? Angrily.  Cor. 
'Slife, what shall I say? Thy Mistress! not for a world? I'm not such a Rogue. Make a Whore of her I intent shall bring Heirs to my Family!  Triu. 
It seems you intent to get 'em yourself. Come, come, Sir; 'tis no jesting matter; I overheard you.  Cor. 
Ha, ha, he. Was it not fit for me to try whether she were honest, or no? Thou shouldst never have had her else: my Son and Heir marry a Whore! I'd see her burnt first. If it had been any other Woman, I had been in earnest, la.  Triu. 
Was it only so? I'm satisfied.  Cor. 
Oh, are you so? There's wit for you, at a dead pinch, lafoy!  
Poor easy Milksop, that shan't serve thy turn.  
Thou art already Listed and Enrolled  
Into the Honourable Society.  
Corna, Corna, Corna chi vuol haver di Corna Sings.  
Hark thee, Trivultio, I have forty thousand Crowns to spare;  
let me see, how many Whores will that make?  Triu. 
Faith, Sir, I want Arithmetic to count 'em. Shall I reckon by Julio's, or Half Crowns?  Cor. 
Half Crowns. A good Market-rate. Let me see, about eight hundred thousand of 'em. That's all. I have a project, that every one of these Women shall bear me two Male Children at a birth every year: so that about twenty years hence, I shall be able to bring every year a fresh Army of Sixteen hundred thousand fighting Men into the Field, out of my own Loins, Boy. The old Patriarchs were Asses to me: poor impotent broken-bellyed Fumblers.  Triu. 
But, at this rate, you must get more Children in a night than Hercules.  Cor. 
Hercules! Why, Hercules never eat French Pottage, nor Jelly, nor Champignons. A poor Carret-eating Rogue! I'll have all the Cordials and Elixirs, that Nature treasures up for the industrious, paid by the rich. My Physicians shall study nothing else but the Art of Procreation; I'll have none but those that can turn all Nerves into Bones, and all Meat into Marrow.  Triu. 
Right, Sir. You shall have all the three Concoctions in a minute, and the time gained from them shall be employed to lengthen Generation.  Enter Visconti with Melinda; Visconti, in his French Habit, stuck with Pistols, and a Musquetoon at's back. Parh. 
Well escaped, Madam. I see you're as good as your word.  Mel. 
Oh, Madam, I am as it were at home, under the wings of my Tutor here.  Visc. 
And, Begar, me vil now teach you de finest leson in de vol vorld.  Mel. 
No other Lesson, Mounsieur, but the French Song: Sings a ridiculous French Song.  Cor. 
What the Devil's this fellow that Melind has got?  Visc. 
Me be de Exant of de Guard to the Princess: vat is dat to you?  Cor. 
Ex: ang, with a pox to't! what's that? Aside.  
Good Mr. Exang be patient.— Turns his Head always at the word Exang, and laughs, for fear the other should see him.  Visc. 
Do you laughé at me?  Cor. 
Pray excuse me, Sir; 'tis new word I had not heard before, a fine word: but I honour your Person as much as any man living, good Mr. Exang. Turns his Head and laughs.  Sfor. 
We shall have some Bloodshed by and by, between these two Heroes.  Cor. 
If I might be hanged, I cannot forbear talking to him Hark you, Mounsieur Exang,— (Turns his Head and laughs.) are not you some Dancing-Master, or some such kind of fellow? pray throw off your fighting Tools a little, and teach me a Corante. Walking about, and singing.  Visc. 
Me Dancing-Metre! Begar you lie in de troate; me corn dat. Me Metre Dance?  Cor. 
What are you then? a Fencing-Master? will you teach me the Stocade? the Sa, Sa?  Visc. 
Morbleu: the affront to de Noblesse. Me no Metre-Dance, Metre-Fence, no Artisan, no Burgeois, no Fout-man. Me be Gentil homme. You be the Son of the Whore, and de Beech, and de Kishen Wench, to say so: me marry does Lady de grand kalité. Me vil have satisfacseeon.  Triu. 
'Slife, what have you done? The Frenchmen are all Gentlemen abroad, unless their clothes disprove 'em. The Ladies never question it. We shall have a Challenge presently: will you please to accept of me for a Second?  Cor. 
No, no; I hope, no need of that. Trembling.  Visc. 
Me Bourgeois! Me Roturier! Me Metre Dance! Walking angrily.  Cor. 
I did not care neither, but that I strained my Arm t'other day, fighting with the Watch: I can hardly stretch it out. And you know the chief Thrust lies in the Allongee. I hate to kill a man by halves.  A Dance; in the middle of which, Enter Parson. Bell. 
Come, come, we lose time: are you ready to be married?  
To the work presently, Mr. Parson. The three Couples join hands, Sforza and Parhelia; Visconti and Melinda; Trivultio and Aurana. A great noise without. (stand off, stand off; Traitors, Traitors.) Clashing of Swords, the Women squeak.  Parh. 
Oh Lord, we are undone! who would have thought. of any bodies coming here at this time?  Aur. 
Heaven defend us.  Visc. 
Que Diable est sa!  Triu. 
Have a good Heart, man, 'tis nothing. Cornanti trembles.  Cor. 
Sayst thou so, Boy? Some frolic I warrant you.  Some of the Vizarded Men, are upon the Stage, others come running in. Enter the Doge and the Procurators, the Yeomen of the Guard going before. Doge. 
Seize on the Conspirators.  Yeomem. 
Deliver, deliver. They seize 'em.  Doge. 
If I had not come hither by accident, contrary to my custom, what a scandal had I lain under!  
Bless me! my Daughter!  Parh. 
I humbly beg your Highness' pardon: 'twas but harmless mirth.  Doge. 
With Armed Men in visards? and in my Palace too,  
To wound my Servants, and oppose my Entrance?  
I grieve at the dishonour of my spotless Race.  Hir. 
Just Heaven, my Daughter with her hare-brained Gallant so soon again! Oh the wandering Whore!  Grim. 
And mine too with her sharking Frenchman!  
You Powers above, why am I not struck blind?  
Degenerate Strumpet, couldst thou find none to make  
Thy Paramour, but this poor Mushroom?  Visc. 
Begar, me corn your word: me no Mushroom, no Stool-toad.  Grim. 
If you be his Wife, you shall soon be Widow: I'll have our French Cock roasted alive, with his Gizards and Sausages about him there.  Mel. 
Oh Lord!  Doge. 
I'm sorry Sir, to find you here, after so late an Honour given by the Senate.  Sfor. 
Sir, you will find Ingratitude a stranger to my thoughts.  Doge. 
A Parson too? The Trumpet of Rebellion!  
But, what ranting modish Gentleman's that?  Sfor. 
'Tis old Signior Cornanti in disguise.  Cor. 
No, 'tis false, Sir, 'tis young Signior Cornanti.  Hir. 
How have I been abused then.  Doge. 
The Metamorphosis!  Cor. 
What, you're but in jest, Cousin! ' will you never ha' done? you'll fright the poor Wenches out of their little wits.  Grim. 
'Twill prove a sad jest, good Mounsieur.  Cor. 
Come, come, what a pox, this'll not pass. Ha, ha, he. Do you think to make a fool of me too? How you leer now! Do you think, if there had been any Treason in't, I, as a Senator, would not have discovered it? Have not I as great a love for the Commonwealth, as yourself, Sir?— Hark you, Sir, have you found out a Buona-roba for me yet? To Hircanio.  Doge. 
This Gentleman's strangely altered, from a penurious Melancholy, to an exorbitant gaiety. Sure he counterfeits.  Hir. 
No doubt on't, Sir,— I know this poor fellow's folly; but let him be hanged however, that he may tell no tales. Aside.  Cor. 
Trivultio, dost thou see how finely they act their Parts! as if it were a Stage-Play.  Doge. 
I cannot guests what this design may be.  
These two are Subjects of the King of Spain.  Hir. 
The Case is plain, these strangers have designed  
To whore our Daughter, cut our Throats, and put  
A Spanish Yoke upon this freeborn State.  
I hear there's an Army ready, marching from Milan:  
'Tis no time to think, Sir.  
Now, with this lie, will I come even with my Daughter's Ravisher, and my happy Rival though she hang for't too, no matter. Aside.  Sfor. 
Great Gods, assert our innocence,  Doge. 
Gentlemen, this is no time time to defend yourselves,  
The danger urges. I must speedily  
Provide for the safety of the Republic. Visconti slips away.  
Guards look to the Prisoners, and keep 'em all in several Rooms, with a Guard to each, that there may be no contriving, or packing of set Tales. And you, Tipstaves, let the Council of Forty be Assembled immediately; and let the Pope's Legate, Cardinal Colonna, though he arrived here but last night, and has not yet appeared in public, be desired to attend the Senate, in case of Ecclesiastical Censure, upon the lesser Offenders of this numerous Riot:  
That our neglect, Posterity condemn not,  
Nor the least Wheel in this rare Frame be shaken,  
Though to the ruin of our private Houses. Exit.  Hir. 
Look especially to this wild Traitor Trivultio.  1 Gua. 
I'll warrant you, Sir. Exit with Triu.  2 Gua. 
What's become of the Frenchman?  3 Gua. 
I believe he's run away.  2 Gua. 
That's like 'em. Exit.  Cor. 
What a pox means this? Hark you, Ladies, if they should be in sober sadness after all, 'twould vex one.  Parh. 
'Tis too true, Cousin.  Cor. 
Pox o'these grave fellows, there's more malice in one of 'em, than in twenty of us young merry scabs.  3 Gua. 
Come away, Sir, do you rail at his Highness?  Cor. 
What, I warrant you, you're in good earnest, are you, you'll be hanged as soon.  3 Gua. 
I'll try that. Takes him.  Cor. 
Nay, prithee good Beef-eater, stay a little; prithee, prithee.  3 Gua. 
Come aloft, Sir.  The great fellow tucks him under his arm, and goes out with his heels foremost. Cor. 
Do you know who I am?  
A Senator, a Senator, a Senator, Kicks and struggles. Exeunt Guarded.   

The SCENE, A Street.  Enter Tip-staffe and Circumstantio. 
What a coil's here about this Master of thine? I tell thee he's not here.  Cir. 
Why there can be no affairs of State transacted without him.  Tipst. 
Honest Circumstantio, I see thou hast little to do, and I have a great deal of business, prithee take my Tipstaff, and summon the Cardinal.  Cir. 
Oh I know the House that was taken for him in the Strada della Chiesa; I'll do't for you. Takes the Tipstaff.] Exit.  Enter a Watchman, with many of the Rabble about him. Visconti passes by hastily in his French Habit: the Watchman comes up to him. Watch. 
Stand; Whither so fast? Are not you one of the Conspirators?  Visc. 
Me be pouré Estranger:  1 Man. 
A Frenchman, a Frenchman.  2 Man. 
A French Dog; all the Plots come from thence.  3 Man. 
Knock him down.  4 Man. 
Brain him. This is he that set my House o' fire. 'T could be no body but a Frenchman.  6 Man. 
This is he that got my Daughter with Child.  
That was a French trick too,  Watch. 
Keep the Peace neighbours, and let us bring him before the Senate. He was in as much haste, as if he had been coming from Candia or Gygery.  All. 
ay, I, away with him, away with him. A Plot, a Plot: the French, the French.  1 Man. 
They'll burn the City.  2 Man. 
They'll worry our Wives and Children.  3 Man. 
They'll let in the Sea, and drown us.  5 Man. 
'twas they that brought the Plague into Venice.  7 Man. 
ay, and the Pox too, formerly.  Watch. 
What's your name?  Visc. 
Me he Metre de Language to Signior Grimani.  
Me be no Frenchman, me be Italieen.  1 Man. 
No matter, you shall be hanged for looking like one  2 Man. 
ay, for clipping the true Language.  3 Man. 
You shall be hanged Al-a-mode de France.  Watch. 
Come, come away.  All. 
Away with him, away with him.  Boys follow him crying. A Mounsire. A Mounser. A Munchir. A Mister Mownseer. Exeunt all in a hurry, haling him away.  

The SCENE A Prison with a Bed in't.  Trivultio in his Nightgown and Cap. A Table, with bottles of Wine, and Glasses upon it. A Soldier to guard him. Triu. 
Come, honest Guard, take thy Glass in thy hand.  Gives him one. Guard. 
God bless your Worship.  Triu. 
Now let us sing the Catch I showed thee.  

SONG.  
HOw happy's our Fate,  
To live thus in State,  
With our Guards at our Gate!  
None can have access  
But must Court and Address  
And their business confess:  
Then take off thy Glass on thy dutiful Knee, Guard kneels and drinks.   
For Princes are Prisoners as well as we.  Triu. 
Now fill my Glass: faith, if we must die, let's die merrily however.  Guard. 
I have heard 'em say, Sir, that drink's the cure of all Diseases.  Triu. 
No, thou'rt mistaken.  
It sweetens sorrow, but removes it hot,  
Unless the mind be made Serene before,  
With sublime preparations: then 'tis the highest  
Lechery to die, and, next to that, to be in prison.  Guard. 
Troth, Master, methinks you make very light on't.  
If I were sure there were good Drink i'th' other World,  
I did not care if I were dead too.  Triu. 
Why dost thou doubt it, man? They say every thing is more plentiful there, than here; and all Men are alike, and no poor.  Guard. 
Oh Lord, Master, how can you tell?  Triu. 
Why, there are several that have stayed in the other World a little time: as some that have been in long Swoons, Apoplexies, and preternatural Sleeps; others, that have been halfe-hanged, cut down again, and recovered. The other world, they say, is just such another place, as the Countries of America, Brazile, Mexico and Peru: there are few that venture to go there, but such as can live here no longer; but, when they come thither, they find every thing so good there, that they never think of coming back again.  Guard. 
Oh Lord, what would I give to speak with one of those Men that have been in the other World!  Triu. 
This fellow's deadly simple, and drunk to boot. Aside. Why, thou shalt speak with one presently. I'm a dying man, thou know'st, and if I were hanged outright now, 'twere but some hours sooner; and a toy takes me i' th'head, to have thee put my Garter about my neck, and half hang me, that I may see what the other World is, we're going to: but be sure you leave pulling when I make signs to give o'er.  Guard. 
Oh that would be fine, and pleasant, indeed, if I did not hurt you. But, Master, if I should hang you in good earnest, I should be hanged for you.  Triu. 
Oh, never fear that. Here, take my Garter, make a running knot, and on with it. (Guard puts it on.) Now according to the laudable custom of Malefactors, will I give this wicked World a short exhortation.  Guard. 
Oh, pray Master, do.  Triu. 
Good People, I am come hither to be a spectacle to Men and Angels, Critics, and Devils; I am to pay a debt to Nature, which she has made over to a greedy Huswife called Fortune, who calls for it in before the day of payment. But Death is Honourable, Advantageous, and Necessary: Honourable in old Men, to make room for younger; Advantageous to those that get Legacies by it: and Necessary for Married people, that have no other Jayl-delivery. I am most justly brought hither to suffer this ignominious death, and as my Legacy, do beqneath you an useful caution, concerning that horrid and crying sin, that has brought me to this most Tragical end. My Godly Parents brought me up most virtuously, in hopes to have sold me to a Wife to the greater advantage: but at fifteen years of age, the Devil, the Devil grew powerful in me, and tempted me to a sin, Nature would never have thought of (good people: I tremble to name it) Speaks softly and quivering. getting my Mother's Maid with Child. Ah, Bettina, Bettina, thou taughtst me a trick I could never leave since. Thy Sweetmeats, and thy Sugar-plums, have brought me to the Gallows. Hangman, I freely forgive thee; and more freely, than ever any dying man did. Do thy Office.  Guard. 
Oh Gemini! what a brave Speech will he make when he comes to't in good earnest!  Triv, 
Pull down my Nightcap that I may not fright thee, and that I may see more inwardly into the other world. Pulls down his Cap, and pulls the Garter.  Guard. 
What do you see now, Master?  Triu. 
Nothing yet, but a Myst. Pull harder. Triu. puts his fingers between his Throat and the Garter.  
Now pull o' God's name. Guard pulls a little; then asks.  Guard. 
What do you see now Master? The Rope's very close: pray God he recover.  Triu. 
I see Rocks and Mountains, and He counterfeits a rattling in his Throat. craggy places, and Men crawling upon 'em, like Snails or Maggots. Now I am come into a fair Plain, all set with Orange-Trees, Jessamin, and Rosetrees: the most delicious place that in my life, I ever saw. But oh, oh, oh, now I see—  Guard. 
What, Master, what? he speaks mighty plain to be three quarters hanged; but 'tis a lightning before death.  Triu. 
Oh the blessed sight! At the end of this Plain, I see a great huge pair of blue Stairs, as broad as all the whole World, made all of Turkey Stones, and Lapis Lazuli's, and they are stuck as thick with Checquins, as ever they can hold, with many broad Portagu'us, and English Jacobus' amongst 'em; and there is one piece of huge bright Gold, as broad as from hence to Milan, and another paler piece, as broad as from hence to Malamocco.  Guard. 
Now, o' my conscience, these same blue Stairs are the Skies; and the Stars, it seems, are nothing but Checquins; and the Planets, Portugu'us, and Cobus': and the Sun and Moon are those same great gallant pieces. Pray Master let me be hanged too, and go to Heaven presently.  Triu. 
No, no; I will see a little more. Oh the lovely Vision! Now do I see a great many of my old acquaintance, and some poor Tenants of my Father's, that are dead, going up and down these Stairs, and taking out the great pieces, and playing with 'em at Coits, and tossing about the little ones like Tennis-balls.  Guard. 
Oh Lord, Master, let me go to Heaven too, for God's sake: I can stay no longer. I will slacken the Rope.  Triu. 
Now the Devil take thee for a cross fool: it's all gone again.  Guard. 
Nay, good Master, ben't angry, but hang me a little too.  Triu. 
Come, and thou wilt, on that condition thou'lt hang me again. Pulls off his Cap.  Guard. 
I will indeed, Master. Trivultio puts the Garter about his Neck, and the Cap on his Head, and pulls hard.  Triu. 
What dost thou see now?  Guard. 
Nothing yet Master but a black Mist: Speaks as if he were almost strangled. Triu. picks the key of the door out of his pocket, shows it, and runs and unlocks the door, and and locks it again upon him.  
And yet methinks the Rope is hard enough.  Triu. 
Oh 'twill clear up by and by.  Guard. 
Pull a little more. I see nothing in the World yet, but a great Fog. Pull, for God's sake, Master. Why don't you pull? Master, where are you? Pulls off his Cap, and misses him.  Triu. 
Here, Boy, here: is the Mist cleared up yet? Peeping in at the Gate.  Guard. 
How the Devil got you there? Feels for his Key and misses it.  Triu. 
How many Checquins have you got in the other World? will you play at Coits, or Tennis with 'em? Are they as heavy as Venetian Money? sure they are light, they could not toss 'em so nimbly else. Guard goes to the door, and finds it locked.  Guard. 
Oh the Traitor! stop Thief, stop.   

The Scene changes to a part of the Senate-House.  Enter Intrigo and a Doorkeeper. Door-k. 
If you be discovered I shall be sent to the Galleys; for none are admitted into the Senate-House, but Gentlemen of Venice.  Int. 
Fear not, here's twenty Checquins for you.  Door-k. 
Here, Sir, you may lie at large in this great Trunk of Records: 'tis a little Dining-room. Shows him the Trunk. I'll get a hole made on purpose to put out your Head and Hands, that you may listen and take Notes.  Int. 
Very well, How shall I hug myself, to hear the condemnation of these imprudent Revelers! and besides, dive into the fresh Intrigues and Cabinet Councils, that come piping hot from Rome! How freely will this Cardinal empty himself into this bosom of mine, and know not who has drained him! This Art do we Politicians call pumping by Proxy, or the Magical Screw. The Scene shuts upon 'em.  Enter Trivultio. 
So so, I am got off clear. Now for another device to help my friends. The Cardinal Legate is newly come to Town, and scarce known to any man in Venice. Great Bodies move slowly, and he does not think the Senate is in such great haste; I will have a trick to prevent this Cardinal. The greatest, difficulty will be, to get Hircanio's Daughter; But Cornanti is bound to make the Match for me, for the kindness I did, in curing him of Jealousy. And shall I then attempt his wife again? Ingrateful God of Love! Pox on't, in matter of Women, the deceit is Trivial. Civilised Mankind that live in Towns, lie with one another's Wives, as Gentlemen cheat in Horses, by a Tacit compact, and rule among themselves. Let Cornanti pursue his inclinations, I'll follow mine.  
Man's Gratitude may sometimes rise from Pride.  
Friendship to others from the first writ Law  
Of pleasing of himself; why may not I endure  
The burden of a wilful obligation;  
And not be tossing it still back again  
To one who throws it upon me to ease himself?  
For why should Mankind live by Rule and Measure.  
Since all his Virtue rises from his Pleasure?    

ACT V.  

The SCENE, The Senate-House.  
The Senate sitting, the Doge and Procurators of S. Marks and all the Officers: the Prisoners at Bar: Sfor. Parh. Cor. Bell. Visc. Mel. Trivultio disguised like the Cardinal Legat. All in form of Judicature.  1 Sen. 
The boldest frolic this wise State has known,  2 Sen. 
'Tis Treason in a high degree.  3 Sen. 
'Twas nothing but an amorous Gambol.  4 Sen. 
One of Cupid's Conspiracies,  
The God that drolls at Law.  
But hear the Advocate-General. Signior Satana arises up in his Bar-Gown.  Sata. 
Most Gracious Fathers,  
I thank auspicious Heaven I find you here,  
That no black unprevented crime has caused  
Your absence, or Adjourned your Session to another World.  
For since this Infant-Commonwealth first struggled  
Out of its Chaos, and assumed this glorious form,  
There never was such dark, such hellish practice,  
Not to be spoke of, if not acted first,  
Nor told to listening Children, but with sharpest vengeance,  
Lest they should con the Crimes, or hate their Fathers.  
For their supine Indulgence. But what was this design?  
Nought but subversion of the State. A Peccadillo.  
Nought but the breaking the most curious frame  
The World can boast of, since the Heavens were built.  
A Love toy.  
Making a Chaos of a Firmament,  
A pretty fiddling, dancing, kissing Treason.  
But where was this? even in the Doge's Palace,  
The sacred Fort, and safeguard of the Prince.  
And when?  
Even in the Carnival, that time of Licence,  
When all Men may turn Traitors. And by whom?  
Even by Soldiers, and by Foreigners:  
Men that have Interest in the Camp and Closet;  
None in the Senate. Men that have no Bowels,  
Nor native tenderness for this our Mother.  
But you'll say 'twas but  
A merry meeting with some Women in't.  
A Play with Snakes to make it innocent.  
No Vice is perfect, but a Woman's in't:  
Women, the Lures of Schismatics and Rebels,  
The Pleas of Nature, in the mouth of Grace  
Those Cables twisted round with silken Threads  
Of immaterial Doctrines that would quickly break  
But for the strong attractives under-woven.  Hir. 
True, Learned Satana, 'twas a horrid Treason;  
And should the Senate wink at this great Crime,  
Like Manlius, with these Hands I'd Sacrifice  
My Offspring to just Vengeance.  2 Sen. 
Spoke like his Ancestors.  1 Sen. 
This was a foreign project.  2 Sen. 
The King of Spain's,  
The Universal Monarch. Intrigo putting his Headand Handsout of the Trunk, unseen to the Senate.  Int. 
Like enough, the King of Spain a hand in  
Stealing the Man's Daughter. Notes it in a Table-Book.  4 Sen. 
This 'tis to favour Strangers.  3 Sen. 
Yet, some not stick to say, 't was but a Wedding;  
The more suspicious. Was not the execution  
Of Protestants at Paris, acted at one?  4 Sen. 
But, were there no design,  
Yet, in the rigour of the Law, 'tis death  
To go disguised in Arms: expressly 'gainst  
The Letter of the Act of Ordelafo,  
For Swords and Vizors ne'er were worn together  
But in believing England, where Saints turn Rebels.  2 Sen. 
Let 'em die then. A Proveditor, or Senator rises up.  Prov. 
Illustrious Fathers, did I think this riot.  
Had the least face of Treason, or of Murder,  
None should more blindly Censure, deafly Judge;  
But since the root of this so deep design  
Is the weak Passion Love, whose follies are  
Its Wisdom, Crimes its Virtues: shall we be so severe  
T'inflict such punishments, as these disorders, backed  
With bloody'st mischiefs, only could deserve?  
Had these poor Lovers undermined your Senate,  
Killed some chief Magistrate, or fired your City,  
Seized on the Arsenal, or but contrived, or hoped for.  
The least of these; then had we justly trembled:  
But they, fierce Wights, were in an open Villa,  
Their Bulwarks were their Hedges, Orange Trees their Blinds,  
Their Trumpets, Fiddles, Banners, Ladies Scarfs;  
And Petticoats their Trenches. Monstrous Treasons!  
Dark Machinations! Dreadful Spanish Plots! Intrigo peeps out again.  Int. 
Bulwarks Hedges, Petticoats Trenches?  
My life for't, some modern way of Fortification;  
How this age improves! Notes it again.  Prov. 
Best torture 'em, and mortify those Limbs.  
Which Love would have made suppler before morning:  
Make 'em confess, and choose to die, for death.  
Is less to them, than or delay, or pain.  
Extort how many dangerous deep Intrigues  
What Juntoes they have had to blow up hearts,  
How many Towns they've taken, plundered, fired, and slighted,  
And which of them by Storm, and which by Treaty,  
And give a List of the Confederates.  
'Twould cause some blushes in the Senate House.  
But you must know all! These were bloody Plots  
To blow up Virgin-Treasures: not S. Mark's.  Cor. 
Brave Boy!  2 Sen. 
Pshaw! now I am clearly convinced, there was no Treason in't.  3 Sen. 
No, none at all.  4 Sen. 
Yes, a treasonable piece of Lechery.  3 Sen. 
An inconsiderate Frolic.  
Count Sforza has deserved well of the State.  2 Sen. 
The Ladies could have no design to betray their Fathers.  Doge. 
The severity of the Act of Ordelafo, has been mitigated by two subsequent Statutes, in Gradonico and Friuli's times; so that now the Law stands thus. This Fact is death without mercy, if proved intentional for Treason, or for Murder; if otherwise, the Galleys, or Ecclesiastical Censure, according to the circumstances, which heighten or extenuate the crime, Gentlemen, which of these three are you resolved on?  All Sen. 
Ecclesiastical Censure, Ecclesiastical Censure.  Doge. 
Your Eminence is desired to give your Sacred Sentence.  
And with the sparks of your derived Infallibility,  
To light our stumbling Reason.  Cor. 
How bloodily this Cardinal looks! 'Twould troubble me to die in the very Flower of my Age thus.  Visc. 
And, begar, me have de Fieure quart.  Cor. 
Hark you Mr. Exang, you shall have the Honour to be hanged first, because of your Command; Mounsieur Exang, la Precedence Monsou.  Cryer. 
Silence at the Bar.  Triu. 
Most Honoured Senators, I much commend your charity. Rising up.  
And Christian tenderness, in case of Blood.  
Your Infant State required that cautious rigour.  
Strict Laws, are like Steel Bodies, good for growing Limbs;  
But when the Joints are knit, they are not helps, but burdens.  
That which now seems t'have caused this great disorder,  
Is that wild passion Love, which is not tamed,  
But with much Prayer and Fasting, by us Men in Orders;  
And secular Men must be allowed some grains.  
Most Laws exempt Mad Men from Executions;  
Their death breeds pity more than terror. All these errors  
Were done by chance, when Love had banished Reason.  
To put to death six Lovers on their Wedding day,  
When they are going to give life to others,  
Would be a Massacre, not execution.  Int. Peeps out. 
That's to say, People in the solemn Act of Generation ought not to be disturbed A pious Cardinal.  Triu. 
Poor easy Souls, they were going to betray  
Themselves, not you: you fright 'em from the snare  
They're running in such haste to thrust their Heads in.  Cor. 
'Slife, this'll prove a brave Man of God  Visc. 
O de goodman o' de Shourshe.  Cor. 
This fellow talks as if he were frighting away Crows; 'tis pity you should scape hanging, good Mr. Exang.  Visc. 
Begar old Man, if me be no hanged, me vil have satisfacseon for de affront in the Hoose of the great Dogue.  Cor. 
Bear witness, Gentlemen, he threatens me, I shall go in dread of my life; therefore for the security of my Person, good Mr. Cardinal, hang us both together.  Cryer. 
Peace in the Court; Peace, Peace.  Triu. 
Four punishments the Church allows us,  
Fire, Galleys, Inquisition, Excommunication:  
Or other Penance at the Priest's discretion.  
And, to conclude, they need  
No other Flames to burn in, but their own:  
Love is no Heresy, but a Catholic Doctrine;  
The same way made and finished over all the World;  
Needs no Inquisitors, but cautious Parents.  
Hard Oars were never made for such soft Hands.  
Soul-wounding Excommunications  
Are blows too Airy for such stiffnecked Riots,  
Bordering on Treason.  Sfor. 
Whither now! shall we be transported?  Triu. 
Love was the cause, 'tis fit that Love should suffer.  Sfor. 
I had rather die, than lose my Mistress.  Triu. 
Then I decree, by virtue of the Holy Chair's,  
And this Republick's Laws, that first the Prisoners  
Implore the pardon of th' offended Senate;  
And, farthermore, I solemnly condemn 'em  
To the perpetual Prison of the Nuptial Sheets.  
Late Councils hold, Marriage from Heaven was sent,  
Not the reward of Love, but punishment.  All Sen. 
Agreed, agreed. Admirable Divine Sentence!  Doge. 
The Judgement's very mild; but I submit,  
To th' Reverend Church. Count Sforza's Virtue is  
A double Fortune.  
Daughter, are you contented with your choice.  Par. 
The State has tried his Service, I, his Faith,  
With some experiments not less distracting  
I dare not now dispute your Highness' Sentence.  Grim. 
My Daughter married to  
A wandering Frenchman! Your Eminence be pleased  
To pause upon that Judgement.  Int. 
peeps out. A Frenchman too in the Plot! o' my word, a shrewd deep-thinking Nation: they cover internal Wisdom, with external Folly.  Triu. 
It is irrevocable.  
'Twas first her choice, and now her punishment.  Visc. 
Begar old Fader in de law, me no Vagaboon, me no Rogue wandering.  Int. 
Mark his politic Accent, and his craftily transposed Sense. Who sees the bottom of this?  Visc. to Grim. 
Sir, to perplex you no longer. I am not the first French-Master, that has run away with a Gentleman's Daughter. Pulls off his Disguise.  
Your Daughter's wondrous apt to learn the Language.  1 Sen. 
Of Nature, Sir.  2 Sen. 
Visconti!  Cor. 
Why, my dear friend, and no Exeng! Hugs him.  3 Sen. 
A good Match for your Daughter.  Grim. 
I have had better offers; but I acquiesce  
In Sacred Justice, with my Daughter's liking.  Mel. 
Our Vows are sealed long since, Sir.  Hir. 
Here's mad work i'faith!  
I'm glad the Reveller is not here, to marry  
My Daughter.  1 Sen. 
How does your Eminence dispose of the married Couple?  Triu. 
Their punishment shall be to live at home  
Together; and that's enough for her;  
His, to return from a glittering Gallant, to a Threadbare  
Usurer, and to tell,  
All his own Money till his fingers ache,  
Without a Deputy Scraper.  Cor. 
I'll throw't away first!  Triu. 
And for the credit of his forsaken Dignity,  
To have his Senator's Gown stitched to his Back.  Cor. 
This whoreson long gown will utterly spoil my Boon mien.  Int. 
Nay, if the Clarissimo's begin to go in Quirpo once farewell Christendom, unless it be done upon design.  Bell. 
No matter, Husband, if your Reverend jealousy return not.  Cor. 
The Devil lodge such Guests, Cornanti never.  1 Sen. 
But, Reverend Father, there is yet one of  
The chief Malefactors that has broke prison,  
And left his Mistress Aurana behind him.  
How do you Sentence him?  Triu. 
To be married to her, as soon as e'er he's caught. I have heard 'em say, he's a wandering Gallant; 'twill be a true punishment to him: if an ordinary Prison will not hold him, clap him into the Dungeon.  Aur. 
Oh that Trivultio was here, to thank this good Cardinal.  Hir. 
Nay, Reverend Sir, let not so rude a fellow  
Enjoy my only Heir, his Fortune too, incertain.  Triu. 
I do not use to have Decrees so Canvased.  Hir. 
Then, if I must consent to lose a Father's power,  
Let 'em inherit wrangling poverty.  
I'll never bait her Misery with my Fortune.  Cor. 
He a rude fellow? 'Tis false, Sir. O' my knowledge he's as honest a young Man of his Body, as any's within a hundred mile of his Head, though I say it, that should not. I have tried him, Sir if you go to that, and you too. Hold your prating, Hircanio: shall I tell all? Puts his finger to his Nose.  Hir. 
Betrayed, and shamed!  
Come, come, Sir, what's this to his Fortune  Cor. 
'Tis thus much, Sir: I have enough for him, and for myself too; and he shall have your Daughter, in spite of your teeth, if you go to that, lafoy! say I told you so.  
Tara tang. Sings.  Int. 
This old Gentleman's much improved of late in his Parts and Elocution: He has been an unknown wise. Man these forty years. Heaven guard the State.  Hir. 
Was ever Man thus Hectored by a Priest and a Lunatic!  2 Sen. 
How does your Eminence adjudge the Complices?  Triu. 
Alas poor hirelings! Let 'em all be pardoned.  All Sen. 
Excellent Sentence!  Doge. 
Let all those Decrees be entered in the Journal.  All Sen. 
ay, I, I. Great cry.  Hir. 
— No. Faintly, after all.  1 Sen. 
Do you observe the malicious feeble Negative?  Enter Cardinal Colonna, the Pope's Legat. 
What another Cardinal?  2 Sen. 
There's never a Cardinal at Venice more;  
But old Grimaldi, that lies Bedrid.  1 Sen. 
True. Cardinal Bragadino is at Rome,  
In his waiting upon his Holiness.  2 Sen. 
But 'tis the same I think.  3 Sen. 
An Apparition!  
Do my Eyes see double?  
Here's another Cardinal Colonna!  4 Sen. 
All old Cardinals look alike, as all old Women do.  Card. 
Ha! What do I see? another in my place! Comes forward.  
Honoured Senators, I come t'attend your pleasures.  Doge. 
What, a double Cardinal Colonna! Many Senators rise up as frighted  
Sure this is some Impostor.  Grim. 
Rather a Spirit: one of the Devils Prelates. Trivultio rises up.  1 Sen. 
That he may be, and yet be Flesh and Blood.  Int. 
I knew it would not pass thus.  
I warrant you, wise Rome keeps a Counterpart  
Of every Cardinal she sends abroad.  Triu. 
Most worthy Sons of the Church;  
I beg your Justice from the Holy Chair,  
Upon this Sacrilegious Impostor,  
For abusing our Sacred Habit Legatine.  Card. 
Why, Gentlemen, would you make me believe  
I am not myself?  
Impudent Monster, thou'rt a Cheat,  
An Anathema, to abuse the Church,  
And to usurp my Seat. If thou 'rt a Cardinal,  
Thou art no Legate from his Holiness. Goes up to him furiously, as if he would pull him out.  
I will Dethrone thee.  Triu. 
Fathers, look to the Honour of the Christian Faith.  1 Sen. 
Right, Such violence becomes not his Profession.  Doge. 
Forbear to affront his Eminence.  3 Sen. 
No rude action till the thing is known.  Int. 
These Cardinals are spies one upon another, and know it not.  Doge. 
Tip-staffe, Who was it that was sent to summon his Eminence?  Tip. 
A fellow that's without.  Doge. 
Call him in. Tip-staffe goes to the door, and brings in Circumstantio.  
What did you summon the Cardinal here? Pointing to Trivultio.  Cir. 
With due submission to your Honour's Worship,  
And striking sail to your intellectual Gravity,  
And without offence be it spoken to his  
Cardinal's Worship, if I may take the boldness to say so,  
I did.  Int. 
My man entered into the grand Intrigue! O' my word, he was always a hopeful fellow.  Doge. 
A very formal Coxcomb. Well then, turn about.  
Did you fetch this Cardinal too here? Pointing to the Cardinal.  Cir. 
I marry did I, as I told you before, Looks at one, then at another, as if he were frighted. will you not believe me? what are you skipped hither so soon?  Card. 
Honest friend, did not you fetch me?  Cir. 
ay, I'm sure I fetched you, if you be the same with the other; for I fetched but one: but if your Worships be two of you, I know not which I fetched.  Card. 
Why, dost thou not know me? and didst thou not come to me, to my House in the Strada della Chiesa?  Cir. 
ay, that I'll be sworn I did, and I know your Worship very well: but, beshrew my heart, I think your Worship's a Astrologer, or a Negromonster, that can make two people of one.  3 Sen. 
Strange Labyrinth?  2 Sen. 
The fellow himself cannot know it.  Doge. 
Nothing but circumstance of time and place,  
Can clear this doubt. Tip-staffe, did you employ this fellow?  Tip. 
May it please your Highness, not I; but he told me, that one of our fellows did, who should have gone himself.  Doge. 
This may be a Rogue, then. Come, come, sirrah, tell the whole story, with all the circumstances of it, how, where, and from whom you received your Message; and how long since you delivered it, and where you met with the Cardinal, with other particulars.  Cir. 
I shall, Sir, tell you in short. Going to go this morning towards a Club we have kept these two years, as much as to say a merry meeting, as much as to say, at the Three Tuns in the Piazza dei Jardini, as fine a Sign as any's in Venice, and as well Painted, by the same token, we had bespoke to Supper, a dish of stewed Chestnuts, five stumps of Capons Legs we had borrowed of our Masters, a Fricaceé of Frogs, and a dish of buttered Snails; I had not gone half way, but as sure as my Grandfather was at Lepanto, who should I meet with by the way, but a great crowd of people with Halberds, and Staves, carrying Thiefs or Traitors to prison.  Int. 
An excellent Narrative! Little does the Senate know, by whose Precepts he was formed to this perfection.  1 Sen. 
A very impertinent fellow! Aside,  Cir. 
So, I stepped aside into a Shop, to see 'em pass: the Shopkeeper asked me what I would buy; But, intending my Money for other uses, out I went into the Street again; and, as sure as my Grandfather was at Lepanto, the company was almost lost: yet I had a mind to follow 'em; but, for all my haste, I was resolved to take a dram of the Bottle by the way.  Card. 
Honest friend, come to the point. You know where you found me, and what you found me doing, who was with me, and how I promised you to come presently, as soon as I had dispatched my business with the Canons of S. Mark, whom you saw there.  Cir. 
Oh Lord, Sir! what are you mad, Sir?— Scratches his Head. Now have you clearly put me out, that I cannot remember one word more, if I were to be hanged for't; unless I begin again, word for word.  Int. 
Alas-a-day, his old infirmity! 'tmay spoil his State-course.  Doge. 
So so: this is a made tale.  1 Sen. 
A mere juggle, and contrivance between 'em.  2 Sen. 
And the fellow makes himself simple, to be the less suspected.  Cir. 
Indeed, my Lords, what I speak is very true; but I am a little out in may story, and the Lesson I learned of my Master.  Doge. 
So, so, he confesses the Master and the Scholar.  1 Sen. 
'Tis now as clear as day.  4 Sen. 
A mere studied Lesson, and the fellow could say no farther; for he had it only by rote.  Doge. 
Away with the Mock-Cardinal, and his Man: clap the Master and Scholar close in Irons, till farther order.  The Tipstaffs seize 'em. 3 Sen. 
Disrobe and whip him.  4 Sen. 
No, let him be sent in this Habit to Rome, and there punished.  2 Sen. 
A most impious Act.  4 Sen. 
Profane.  2 Sen. 
Abominable.  Card. 
Is there no Justice here?  
Then I appeal unto the Holy Chair.  1 Sen. 
We allow no Appeals. Away with him.  All Sen. 
Away with him, away with him.  Triu. 
Most Honoured Fathers, I thank you for your Zeal  
To th' Holy Church; but since this is a day  
Of general jollity, I freely here  
Forgive all the affronts done to myself,  
As Christian Charity Commands, and humbly  
Beg your pardons for the Mock-Cardinal.  Doge. 
Oh, Reverend Sir, you are too mortified;  
Our Zeal to th' Holy Church cannot pass by  
So great a scandal.  Triu. 
I beg it once again, with earnest Prayers.  
And hope you will not envy me that meritorious Act.  Doge, 
Well. Since your Eminence is pleased to be  
So merciful, we have no reason to  
Be more severe.  3 Sen. 
No, not at all.  4 Sen. 
'Tis a day  
Of public mirth: the Carnival time too.  2 Sen. 
Let him be pardoned, and confess his knavery.  All Sen. 
ay, I, I. Trivultio pulls off his Disguise.  Triu. 
Great thanks, Illustrious Fathers, for your Gracious Pardon.  Doge. 
Is't possible?  Cor. 
Trivultio! whough!  Int. 
Look you there now; I knew 'twould end in this. But the poor fellow will be hanged. This comes of his capering and Dancing without design stil. This 'tis to have the Bark of a Frenchman, but none of the Sap.  1 Sen. 
This was a Masterpiece, i'faith. Trivultio runs from his Seat, and falls upon his knees before the Cardinal.  2 Sen. 
Deserves Reward as well as Pardon.  Hir. 
A Cheat, a Cheat, a new Sentence:  Triu. 
Your Pardon, Reverend Sir.  Card. 
Bless me! the wanton wag Trivultio!  
I am beholding to the Impostor however,  
For his good Nature: Heaven forgive you. Cornanti snatches him away from before the Cardinal, and kisses him.  Cor. 
Ah, my dear Boy, have I found thee again!  
Thou haft more wit than the whole Senate.  Hir. 
How now, Sir?  Cor. 
I marry has he, Sir, for all you, if you go to that.  Doge. 
Will't please your Eminence to assume your Seat? Cardinal goes up to his Seat.  Hir. 
The Sentence now is void, though the Impostor's pardoned.  Card. 
Pray, Sir, let's hear the Case.  Doge. 
It is, in short, a Riot 'gainst our Laws,  
Though the intention reached no farther than  
Honourable Marriage; and it pleased the Senate,  
In mitigation of their punishment,  
To leave 'em to the mercy of the Church:  
This Youth steps in disguised; Ordains 'em Marriage;  
And though the Fact was bold and illusory,  
Yet the whole Senate has approved the Judgement.  All Sen. 
ay, I, I.  Hir. 
This will not pass. My Lord, we're abused and cheated, And our Daughters ruined.  3 Sen. 
No, no, my Lord,  
'Tis mere malice: the Matches are suitable.  Cor. 
If you talk more, Hircanio, your Daughter shan't have him, if she would down on her knees to him.  Card. 
Shall I please one, or all?  
As 'tis the State's civility to give  
The Church this Power; so 'tis his Holiness' Order  
In all things, to comply with this Illustrious House,  
Where Reason or Religion do not suffer.  
I'll not recede one tittle from the former Sentence,  
Though 'twas irregular and monstrous;  
Yet happy in the approbation of  
This most Judicious, Honourable Senate.  All Sen. 
Thanks to your Eminence, thanks, thanks.  Doge. 
Enrol the Judgement, and this day's transactions.  Int. 
Shallow proceedings! if I would but appear now, I could turn the whole business again.  Hir. 
Baffled again! Well, is not this business to be cured Aside to Satana.  Sat. 
Not possibly.  Hir. 
No quick in Law left? Try, good Satana.  Sat. 
'Tis in vain, Sir.  Hir. 
Come, here's your Fee.  Sat. 
By no means, Sir, 'tis not for that.  Hir. 
Pray, Sir, take it. Presses him.  Sat. 
Not in this place, indeed Sir.  Hir. 
Well, well, then I'll keep it for you.  Sat. 
Who would have thought he would have pocketed it again! but I shall have it. Let me see  Hir. 
How this Fee works!  Sat. 
I have found a most material objection. Hark you, Sir. Whisper together.  Doge. 
What means this Caballing in Court? The Senate's ready to Adjourn.  Hir. 
Gentlemen, I humbly conceive this Sentence is voids For I conceive—  1 Sen. 
This Lawyer has infected him with their Dubious Salvo.  Hir. 
The Pope's Ordinary is not a Judge, but Minister of the Court; and I desire the Records may be searched, to see if there were ever any Precedent of this Nature.  Int. 
How's that?  3 Sen. 
What power soever the Legate has, the Judgement has been confirmed by us.  Doge. 
Nevertheless, let us search the Records for his satisfaction.  Int. 
Now shall I be rewarded for this my inquisitive care of the State.  Doge. 
Clerk, make a search.  2. Sen. 
ay, we cannot deny that. One of the Clerks opens the Trunk, and takes out Records.  1 Clerk. 
Bless me! the Parchments move.  2 Clerk. 
If ever Book breathed in this World, here's one. Another looking in.  1 Sen. 
What, are you mad?  1 Clerk. 
A Spirit, a Spirit?  2 Sen. 
Some Rat that stirs among the Papers.  2 Clerk. 
Oh Heavens! a Ghost, in humane shape!  Hir. 
A miracle, a miracle! The Lawgiver,  
Great Ordelafo, come himself in person,  
To vindicate his ancient Godlike Law.  Sat. 
If Earth be silent, see just Heaven will speak.  
No less a wonder than a Resurrection,  
A man laid in his Grave six hundred years  
Now rises up, to wake our drowsy Justice.  
Let us prepare t'adore the reverend Ghost,  
And welcome him unto his ancient Seat.  1 Sen. 
'Tis strange! All the Senators seem afraid, and express nothing of contempt, but reverence  2. Sen. 
What may this mean?  4 Sen. 
A general Consternation!  Doge. 
Strange fright!  Card. 
What e'er thou art, Ghost, Devil, Angel,  
What e'er thy dreadful message is to Earth,  
I' th' name of Heaven arise. Intrigo puts up his Head a little, and his white Peruke appears.  Sata. 
See, see, his glorious Head!  
So rises, by degrees, great Ordelafo,  
Like the all-piercing Phoebus from his Eastern Couch,  
To give us light in these most dark affairs.  
See how his hoary Hairs, grown white in the service of  
This Commonwealth, are perfect yet upon  
His watchful Temples. His Face as black as Mummy, Intrigo's Face appears a little.  
Yet firm and solid, and seems pensive.  
He's pondering something for the public good. Intrigo starts upright in the Trunk.  Int. 
ay, that I am, grave Senator's. A general laughter. And, let me tell you, under the Rose. 't has been my sole employment for some years, though I have little thanks for't: and, though I am not Ordelaso.  
Yet take my cautions as not less authentic;  
Which are, to keep your Laws in violate.  Doge. 
Still in the right Intrigo:  
Wise, virtuous Intrigo,  
Those ills are fatal where no pain's endured,  
The wiser sort of fools are never cured.  Grim. 
True; he has such a politic Lethargy upon him, he cannot feel the Pricks and Lance of ill fortune.  
He has been listening here, to increase his prudence,  
Notwithstanding his late affronts at Signior  
Cornanti's.  Corn. 
Was there eversuch a fool as this fellow?  
We natural fools are nothing to him.  Triu. 
Why do you thus eclipse so quaint a Beauty? [To Intrigo.]  
That radiant face! Exit.  Corn. 
Sir, I perceive you're a great Virtuoso;  
Will you teach me the Receipt to get Blackamoor Children,  
That a man may know 'em to be his own?  
All hail, great Ordelafo! [To Hircanio.]  
If Earth be silent, see, just Heaven will speak. [To Satana.]  Enter Trivultio, leading in Circumstantio. Triu. 
Look, here's your Master.  Circ. 
'Sfoot, I think it be. Makes three legs.  
With due submission to your horrible prudence,  
And striking sail to your infernal gravity,  
I am almost out of my little wits.  
To see your worship again.  1 Sen. 
So, so, here's the lesson  
That deceived the Senate.  Cryer. 
Silence in the Court.  Doge. 
How came this fellow here?  Clerk. 
An't please your Highness, I can't imagine, unless he clapped the Keys in Clay, or bribed the Lock-smith.  Doge. 
Was there ever such a curious Coxcomb!  
Clerk of the Precedents, how do you find the case?  2 Clerk. 
The Ordinary in this case is Judge,  
From whom lies no appeal, but to the Pope:  
The Decimo tertio of Gradonico,  
And the Octavo of Andrea Grittio  Doge. 
Master Procurator, you see your remedy.  Card. 
Which will be worse than the disease: His Holiness  
Will trust the Senate, and myself in weightier matters.  Hir. 
Well, I submit. However, this marriage will take off  
Trivultio's edge from my Mistress Bellinganna,  
And the old fool Cornanti, may do something for him.  Corn. 
Oh Sir, is your stomach come down?  
Did not I tell you, I would make you do't?  
Well, Sir, I'll remember Trivultio in my Will;  
But I don't intend to die these forty years yet.  Hir. 
Lawyer, this search was not worth a Fee.  Sat. 
I'll take heed of being Meal-mouthed hereafter.  4 Sen. (Clapping his hand on his breast gravely.) 
In good sadness this was but a foolish trick  
For such a wise man as Signior Intrigo.  1 Sen. 
Why, there's it; every man knows him not.  
These invisible fools are the destruction  
Of private Families, as well as States.  
Nor are they easily to be prevented  
By wiser men, because their follies are  
Always in disguise.  2 Sen. 
Right. This sort of fools walk always with dark Lanterns; and they aught more to be fined for wearing Vizors over their follies, than others over their faces.  3 Sen. 
I think, indeed, they ought to be as punishables  
By Law, as men that cover their Wells and Coal-pits  
With rotten Wood and Briars, not solid Board's,  
That will not keep men from falling in, but  
Decoy 'em to their ruin by security.  Doge. 
Gentlemen, 'tis time to adjourn: There only rests, What punishment upon this grave offender?  Grim. 
Troth, Gentlemen, my opinion is, That all extraordinary fools ought to have Pensions, instead of Punishments, especially those that bring up a new Mode of Folly. There is Honour due to Eminence in all things, and rewards for new inventions.  2 Sen. 
True; if all men were wise, there would be none to make sport with. Fools serve for honest men to laugh at, as well as Knaves to prey upon.  3 Sen. 
If it were not for the amorous Foot in Tragedies, and the merry Fool in Comedies, what would become of the Players?  1 Sen. 
ay, more than that; if there were no Fools, there would be no Wits. Every new Fool begets a new Play; either as the Subject, or the Composer.  Doge. 
No question but they are as necessary in a Commonwealth, as wiser men, for variety.  
Nothing so well Mankind's diversion Fits,  
As difference of Sexes, and of Wits. Exeunt omnes.     

EPILOGUE, As it was spoke by Mr. Haines.  
AS Charms are Nonsense, Nonsense seems a Charm,  
Which hearers of all Judgement does disarm;  
For Songs and Scenes, a double Audience bring,  
And Doggrel takes, which Smiths in Satin sing.  
Now to Machine's, and a dull Mask you run,  
We find that Wit's the Monster you would shun,  
And by my troth 'tis most discreetly done.  
For since, with Vice and Folly, Wit is fed,  
Through Mercy 'tis, most of you are not dead.  
Players turn Puppets now at your desire,  
In their Mouth's Nonsense, in their Tails a Wire,  
They fly through Clouds of Clouts, and showers of Fire.  
A kind of losing Loadum is their Game,  
Where the worst Writer has the greatest Fame.  
To get vile Plays like theirs, shall be our care;  
But of such awkward Actors we despair.  
False taught at first—  
Like Bowls ill biased, still the more they run,  
They're further off, then when they first begun.  
In Comedy their unweighed Action mark,  
There's one is such a dear familiar spark,  
He yawns, as if he were but half awake;  
And fribling for free speaking, does mistake.  
False accent and neglectful Action too  
They have both so nigh good, yet neither true,  
That both together, like an Ape's mock face  
By near resembling Man, do Man disgrace.  
Through paced ill Actors, may perhaps be cured,  
Half Players like half Wits, can't be endured.  
Yet these are they, who durst expose the Age  
Of the great Wonder of our English Stage.  
Whom Nature seemed to form for your delight,  
And bid him speak, as she bid Shakespeare write.  
Those Blades indeed are Cripples in their Art  
Mimmick his Foot, but not his speaking part.  
Let them the Traitor or Volpone try,  
Could they—  
Rage like Cethegus, or like Cassius die,  
They ne'er had sent to Paris for such Fancies,  
As Monster's heads, and Merry Andrew's Dances.  
Withered perhaps, not perished we appear,  
But they were blighted, and ne'er came to bear.  
Th'old Poets dressed your Mistress Wit before,  
These draw you on with an old Painted Whore,  
And sell like Bawds, patched Plays for Maids twice o'er.  
Yet they may scorn our House and Actors too,  
Since they have swelled so high to hector you.  
They cry, Pox o' these Covent Garden Men,  
Damn 'em, not one of them, but keeps out Ten.  
Were they once gone, we for those thundering Blades,  
Should have an Audience of substantial Trades,  
Who love our muzzled Boys, and tearing Fellows,  
My Lord great Neptune, and great Nephew Aeolus.  
Oh how the merry Citizen's in love  
With—  
Psyche, the Goddess of each Field and Grove.  
He cries i' faith, methinks 'tis well enough,  
But you roar out and cry, 'Tis all damned stuff.  
So to their House the graver Fops repair,  
While Men of Wit, find one another here.  
FINIS.