THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE A tragicomey Presented at the Private house in Salisbury Court by her Majesty's Servants. Written by JAMES SHIRLEY. LONDON, Printed for Humphrey Moseley and are to be sold at his Shop at the PRINCE's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard. 1655. TO THE HONOURABLE Sir THO. NIGHTINGALE Baronet. SIR, THE Poem that approacheth to kiss your hand, had once a singular grace and lustre from the Scene, when it enjoyed the life of action; Nor did it want the best hands to applaud it in the Theater; But nothing of these is considerable, to the Honour it may receive now from your Confirmation and acceptance. I must acknowledge many years have passed, since it did Vagire in Cunis, and when it had gotten strength, and legs to walk, traveling without direction, it lost itself, till it was recovered after much inquisition, and now upon the first return home, hath made this fortunate address, and application to your Patronage; In which my ambition is satisfied. I know this Nation hath been fruitful in names of Eminent Honour. But in these times, there be more Lords than Noblemen, and while you are pleased to smile upon this piece, I most cheerfully throw myself, and it upon your Protection, whose single worth to me, is beyond all the boasted Greatness and voluminous titles of our age. Be pleased to read, what is presented you, at an hour, you will dedicate to Recreation, and preserve the Author in your memory, whose highest desires are to make good the Character of Sir, The most humble among, those that honour you JAMES SHIRLEY The names with some small Characters of the Persons. THE Duke of Venice. Cornari a Gentleman of Venice of a great fortune, but having no Child, contrives to have an heir from his wife, and against the nature and custom of the Italian, endears an English gentleman to her affection and society. Florelli the English Gentleman of a Noble extraction and person, much honoured for his parts, by which he gained much reputation in the Academies. Malipiero Nephew to Cornari, a man of a violent spirit, and hated by his uncle, for his debaucheries. Giovanni, (supposed Son of Roberto the Duke's Gardener) whose noble mind could not be suppressed, in his low condition, and in love with Bellaura. Thomazo, the supposed Son of the Duke, whom no precepts, nor education at Court, could form into honourable desires, or employments. Courtiers of Honour. Marino Candiano Roberto the Duke's Gardener, an humorous jolly old man. companions of Malipiero Bernardo Marcello Georgio, the gardiner's servant. Bravoes. Attendants. soldiers. Bellaura the Duke's Niece, whom Giovanni passionately affected. Claudiana wife to Gornari, a Lady of excellent beauty, ingratiated by her husband to Florelli the english Gentleman. Ursula wife to Roberto, a froward woman, and who much doted upon Thomazo her Nurse-child. Rosabella a Courtesan. The Scene. VENICE. THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE. Act. 1. Enter Malipiero, when knocks at a Door, to him a Servant. Mal. WHere is my Uncle sirrah? Ser. Not within. Mal. Come hither, tell me truth. Ser. he's gone abroad. Mal. He has commanded your officious rogueship. To deny him to me. [Mal. kicks him.] Ser. What do you mean sir? Mal. To speak with my Uncle sirrah, and these kicks Shall fetch him hither. Ser. Help. [He runs in] Mal. Your howling will Be his cue to appear. Enter Cornari. Cor. What insolence is this? Mal. No insolence: I did but correct your knave, Because I would not lose my labour sir, I came to speak w'ee. Cor. Shall I not be safe Within my house? hence. Mal. I ha' not done yet. Cor. You were best assault me too. Mal. I must borrow money, And that some call a striking; but you are My very loving Uncle, and do know How necessary it is, your Nephew should not Want for your honour. Cor. Hence; I disclaim, And throw thee from my blood; thou art a bastard. Mal. Indeed you do lie Uncle, and 'tis love, And reverence bids me say so, it would cost Dear, should the proudest Gentleman of Venice Have called my Mother whore, but you shall only By the disburse of fifty Ducats take My anger off, and I'll be still your Nephew, And drink your health, and my good Ants. Cor. Drink thy Confusion. Mal. Heaven forbid your Heir should so Forget himself, and lose the benefit Of such a fair Estate as you have Uncle; Shall I have Gold for present use? Cor. Not a sequin. Mal. Consider but what Company I keep. Cor. Things that lie like Consumptions on their Family, And will in time eat up their very name; A knot of fools and knaves. Mal. Take heed, be temperate, A hundred Ducats else will hardly satisfy, The Duke's own Son Signior Thomazo won't Blush to be drunk sir in my company. Cor. He is corrupted Amongst diseases like thyself, become His Father's shame and sorrow, and hath no Inheritance of his noble nature. Mal. You Were best call him bastard too, the money I modestly demanded, and that quickly, And quietly, before I talk aloud, I may be heard toth' Palace else. Cor. Thou heard? I'll tell thee, Were treason talked, I believe thy testimony Would hold no credit against the hangman, but I lose too precious time in dialogue with thee, To be short therefore know.— Mal. Very well, toth' point. Cor. I will consume all my estate myself. Mal. You do not know the ways without instruction. Cor. I will be instructed then. Mal. I do like that, Let's join societies, and I'll be satisfied; Let me have part in the consuming of The money, that does mould for want of Sunbeams Within your musty Coffers, I'll release you. You have no swaggering face; but I can teach Your very looks to make a noise, and if You cannot drink or game, we'll ha' devices; You may have whores, I that but live in hope After your death, keep twelve in pension, They wear my Livery, I'll resign the Leverets, I can ha' more, I have a list of all The courtesans in Venice, which shall tumble And keep their bugle bows for thee dear Uncle, we'll teach thee a thousand ways. Cor. It sha'not need, I shall take other courses with my wealth, And none of you shall share in't. I have a humour To turn my money into Hospitals; Your riots come not thither. Mal. But we may, Drink, and diseases are the ways to that too, But will you turn a Master of this College You talk of Uncle? this same Hospital? And lay out money to buy wooden legs For crippled men of War, invite to your cost Men that have lost their noses in hot service? Live and converse with rotten bawds & bone-setters, Provide Pensions for surgery, and hard words That eat like Corrosives, and more afflict The patient? but you'll save charges, I consider My Aunt, your wife— Cor. How dar'st thou mention her With thy foul breath. Mal. May be excellent at composing Of Medicines for corrupted lungs, impostumes At making plasters, diet drinks, and in charity Will be a great friend to the pox. Cor. Thou villain. Mal. And you'll be famous by't, I may in time As I said before, if lust, and wine assist me, Grow unsound too, and be one of her patients; And have an office after in her household To prepare lint, and cerecloths, empty veins, And be controller of the Crutches, oh The world would praise the new foundation Of such a Pest house, and the poor souls drink Your health at every Festival in hot porridge. Cor. Art thou of kin to me? Mal. I think I am, As near as your brother's eldest Son, who had No competent estate from his own parents. And for that reason by wise nature was Ordained to be your heir that have enough Uncle. The fates must be obeyed, and while your land Is fastened to my name for want of males, Which I do hope, if my Aunt hold her barrenness You will never bang out of her Sheaf, I may Be confident to write myself your Nephew. Cor. Thou hast no seeds of goodness in thee, but I may find ways to cross your hopeful interest. Mal. You'll find no seeds in my aunt's parsley-bed I hope, and then I'm safe, but take your course, Supply me for the present, for your honour— The Ducats come. Cor. You are cozened. Mal. As you would not Have me pull down this house, when you are dead And build a stews, the Ducats come. Cor. Thou coward! Mal. Because I do not cut your throat, that were The way to disinherit myself quaintly. Cor. Canst thou not steal? & so deserve a hanging? Mal. Yes I can, and am often tempted, but I won't Do you that mighty wrong, to let what you have So long, and with so little conscience gathered, Be lost in confiscation by my felony. I know a way worth ten on't; yet thus much I'll bind it with an oath, when I turn thief, Your Gold shall be the first I will make bold with, In the mean time lend me the trifling Ducats, And do not trouble me. Cor. Not a Muccinigo To save thee from the Galleys. Mal. No? the Galleys! Must I shift still? remember, and die shortly I'll live, I will, and rather than not be Revenged on thy estate, I will eat roots Course ones I mean, love, and undo an herbwife With eating up her salads, live and lap Only in barley water, think on't yet, I am now for wine, you know not what that heat May do, the injury being so fresh, I may Return, and you'll repent. Cor. 'Tis more than I Can hope of thee, go to your rabble sir. Mal. You a Gentleman of Venice? but remember, A pox 'a your wealth, I will do something To deserve the halter, that I may disgrace The house I came on, and at my Execution Make such a speech, as at the report, thou shalt Turn desperate, and with the remnant of My Cord go hang thyself, and that way forfeit All thy Estate when I am dead, I'll do Or this, or something worse to be revenged. Exit. Mal. Enter Servant. Cor. he's lost, this doth new fire my resolution; See if your Mistress be yet ready sirrah, Say I expect her. Exit Servant. My blood is almost in a fever with My passion, but Claudiana may cure all, Whom I have wrought with importunity To be spectator at the exercise This day i'th' Academy, here she comes, Enter Claudiana. Art ready? Clau. Ever to obey you sir, But if you would consider yet, you may Be kind, and let me stay, I dare not think You are less careful of my honour, but You gave once Command with my consent too, Not to be seen too much abroad. Cor. I did. I must confess Claudiana, I had thoughts And scruples which thy innocence hath cleared, And though our nice Italian everywhere Impose severely on their wives; I should Be unjust to make thee still a prisoner to Thy melancholy Chamber, take the air, 'Tis for thy health, and while I wait upon thee, Thou art above the tongue, and wound of scandal. Clau. I know your presence takes off all dishonour, But— Cor. No more, I charge thee by thy love, And to convince all arguments against it; I have provided so, thou shalt observe Unseen the bold contentions of art, And action. Clau. I'm not well. Cor. I shall be angry If my desires be played withal, pretend not With purpose to delude me, I have blessings Stored in thy health, but if you practise any Infirmity to cross my will, that aims At the security of thy health and honour— Clau. Sir, you shall steer me. Cor. This becomes Claudiana, I will think thee in a kiss, prepare The gondola. Ser. It waits [Within] Cor. And I on thee, The treasure of my eyes, and heart. Exeunt. Enter Roberto, Ursula, Georgio. Rob. Where is my son Giovanni sirrah? Geo. He went two hours ago to the Academy, To see the exercise today. Urs. How's that? What business has he there, pray 'mongst Gentlemen? He does presume too much. Ro. Patience good Ursula. Urs. You give him too much rein; 'twould become him To follow his profession, and not look after Those gentlemanly sports. Ro. No tempest wife, No thundering Ursula, am not I the Duke's Chief Gardener, ha? and shall I make my Son A drudge; confine him here to be an earthworm, Live like a mole, or make it his last blessing To plant, and order quickset; let him walk, And see the fashions. Urs. He has cost you sweetly To bring him up, what use had he of learning? What benefit, but to endanger us, And with his 'poring upon books at midnight, To set the house on fire, let him know how To rule a spade, as you ha' done. Ro. He does so, And knows how to inoculate my Ursula, My nimble tongue, no more: because he read The story of Xanthippe tother night That could out-talk a drum, and sound a point Of War to her husband honest Socrates, You took a pet; he shall abroad sometimes And read and write till his head ache. Go to Urs. So, so, the Duke's Garden shall be then Well looked to, he deserves a Pension, For reading Amadis de Gaul, and Guzman, And Don Quixot, but I'll read him a lecture. Ro. You will? offer but to bark at him, And I will send him to the University To anger thee, nay he shall learn to fence too, And fight with thee, at twenty several weapons Except thy two edged tongue, a little thing Would make me entertain a dancing master, Peace, or I will destroy thy Kitchen Ursula, Disorder all thy trinkets, and in stead Of brass and pewter, hang up Viol de gamba, I'll set an Organ up at thy bed's head, And he shall play upon't: what tyrannical To thy own flesh and blood, to Giovanni? My heir, my only boy? fetch me a tailor, He shall have new clothes, and no more be warm With the reversion of your petticoats, Do not provoke me, what imperious? Get you in, or I will swinge you, go, and weed. Vrs. Now for vexation could I cry my heart out. Exit. Ro. Sirrah stay you, and is Giovanni gone Toth' Academy sayst? Geo. Yes sir, they say, There is an English Gentleman, that wins The Garland from 'em all at every exercise, One of the Court told my young master on't, (As he inquired of every Gentleman Comes in toth' Garden, what's the news abroad) Ro. And does he not tell thee tales & dainty stories Sometimes? Geo. Oh, of Tamburlaine, and the great Turk, & all His Concubines, he knows 'em to a hair, He is more perfect in the Chronicles Then I am in my prayers. Ro. I do believe't Geo. And talks a battle, as he were among 'em, He tickles all your turbans, and in a rage, Wishes he had the cutting of their Cabbages To show what house he came on. Ro. Ha my boy! Geo. Oh sir he has a pestilent memory, He told me tother day there was another World in the Moon, and that the world we live in Shines like to that, to people that live there, How many miles it is about the Earth, How many to the stars, I fear he will Be mad, if he read much, 'tis just like ravening, And such hard words would choke me to repeat 'em. Ro. He never tells me this. Geo. We are familiar. You are his Father, and he dares not lie To you, to me he may talk any thing, He knows my understanding to an inch. Would you would speak to him though, to take a little More pains, 'tis I do all the droil, the dirtwork: When I am digging; he is cutting Unicorns, And lions in some hedge, or else devising New knots upon the ground, drawing out Crowns And the Dukes arms, Castles and Cannons in 'em, Here Galleys, there a Ship giving a broad side, Here out of turf he carves a Senator With all his robes, making a speech to Time That grows hard by, and twenty curiosities, I think he means to embroider all the Garden Shortly, but I do all the course-work; here's My Mistress again. Enter Ursula. Ro. What, is the storm laid? Vrs. I must be patient: your son's not come yet Ro. Why now thou art Ursa Maior, love thy whelp, And we are friends. Vrs. Was not the Duke's Son here? I fear he is sick, that I have not seen him These two days in the Garden. Geo. There's a Gentleman. Vrs. ay, there's a Gentleman indeed. I dreamt on him last night, pray heaven he be In health, I prithee make enquiry, There's a Gentleman, and you talk of a Gentleman. Geo. Signior Thomazo? Ro. Where is he? Geo. I know not, but my mistress would send me To know the state of his body. Ro. Why, how now Ursula? sirrah about you business, And spare that inquisition, what hath Your impudence to do with the Duke's Son? Vrs. Have not I to do that gave him suck? I hope I was his nurse, and it becomes me To inquire of his health, he is the very pearl Of courtesy, not proud nor coy I warrant you, But gentle as my Sunday muff. Ro. Your coney skin. Vrs. I am the better when I look upon him, There 'a gentleman, and you talk of a gentleman, So complete, so affable, a scholar too, If I could understand him, prithee sweet heart, Get me with child that I may long a little. Ro. For a piece of the Duke's Son? Vrs. I shall ne'er forget how prettily He took the nipple, and would play, and prattle himself asleep I warrant you, but he's now a man, A great man, and he remembers me still: There's a gentleman, and you talk of a gentleman. Ro. The woman dotes. Exit. Enter Marino meeting Candiano a Senator. Mar. Whither so fast? Can. To the Academy. Ma. Spare Your haste, all's done. Can. Who has the vote today? Mar. The English Gentleman is still victorious. All praises flow upon him, he has deposed Our City, which hath now resigned her Laurel. Enter Florelli and other gentlemen. Can. Is not this he? Mar. The same, in's face the promise Of a most noble nature. Flo. Gentlemen, Pray give me leave, to understand your language, For this, so much above me, scarce will be, (When I'm less ignorant), worth my thanks, 1. Gent. This is We know pretence of modesty, we must Congratulate your triumph. Flo. For this time I'll be content your praises shall abuse me. Who are these? Mar. Friends and Honourers of your worth. Flo. I see that courtesy is native here, All the reward I can return, must be To speak abroad the Nobleness of Venice For so much grace to an unworthy stranger. Can. The Duke himself. Enter Duke, Thomazo, Senators, Malipiero. Du. We must resolve to send new forces And speedily, the flame will else endanger Venice itself. Sen. This town lost will encourage The insulting genoese. Du. Thomazo! Tho. Sir. Du. I look when you will ask me leave to trail A pike, and purchase honour in these Wars. Tho. I have not been well since I was last Let blood, and therefore if you please, I would Be excused till the next wars, and then have at 'em; By that time I shall be a better rapier man. Du. This fool is the dishonour of my blood, He declines all that's noble, and obeys A base and vulgar appetite, he dwells Like a disease within my name, but 'tis heaven's punishment, what are they? Mari. All strangers, but among them one In whom you may read something worth your grace, An English Gentleman. Du. He, to whom fame Gives the honour of our exercises, nature With such an active heat might have built up My Son, but he's cursed to live a shadow, Marino fetches Florelli to kiss the Duke's hand. Welcome sir to Venice. Tho. He shall kiss my hand too, I am the Duke's Son. Flo. You honour me. Du. Thomazo give that gentleman A box o'th' ear. Tho. He won't take it kindly, He is one— Du. Will strike again, is not that it? Tho. I would not use a stranger so discourteously, or else— Du. Embrace him then, and make yourself worthy of His friendship and converse, you'll gain more honour Than the empty title of your birth can bring ye: But to the great affair; the War, your Counsels. Exeunt Duke, Senator and Marino. Tho. My father bids me embrace you sir. Flo. I shall Be proud when I can do you any service. Tho. Gentlemen, pray know me every one, I am the Duke's Son, my name's Signior Thomazo. Gent. You do us too great honour. Mal. We had no object worth our envy sir Till you arrived, you have at once dishonoured, And made our Venice fortunate. Tho. Malipiero, let's bid 'em welcome in rich wine. Mal. I attend you sir. This fellow must not live to boast his trophies, He may supplant me too, if he converse Too freely with Thomazo, whose course wit Is all the stock I live by, please you gentlemen To walk. Gent. We follow. Tho. I would not have the way But that you are a stranger. Gen. it becomes you. Ex. Omnes. Act. 2. Enter Cornari and Claudiana, as in the Duke Garden. Cla. II have obeyed you sir. Cor. Thou hast done well My Claudiana, very well, who dare Traduce thee for't? am I not careful of thee? I prithee give me thy opinion Who deserved best of all the gentlemen? Cla. I have not art enough to judge. Cor. But thou Hast fancy, and a liberal thought, that may Bestow thy praise on some or other, tell me If thou hadst been to give the garland, prithee Whose head should wear it? though we ha' not judgement To examine, and prepare our justice; yet Where men contend for any victory, Affection may dispose us, and by some Secret in nature we do still incline To one, and guard him with our wishes. Cla. I hope This is but mirth. Cor. By my regard to thy Fair honour, nothing else, it sha'not rise To a dispute, who has the vote today Of all the gentlemen? I must know. Cla. They are To me indifferent. Cor. So is my question, but I must have more, It cannot be but some man must deserve More print and poise in thy opinion, Speak as thou lov'st me Claudiana. Cla. Sir, Your inquisition is not without change Of looks upon me, and those smiles you ask with, Are not your own I fear. Cor. Nay, than you dally, And undo that obedience, I so much Commended. Cla. Dear Cornari. Cor. Yet again? The man, tell me the man? Cla. What man? Cor. The gentleman That best deserves in thy opinion. I shall be angry: what deny to give me This trivial satisfaction? the expense Of a little breath? why do you tremble so? Cla. Alas, I know not what to answer, this Must needs engender fears in my cold bosom, That my poor honour is betrayed, and I Stand in your thoughts suspected of some guilt I never understood, if the report Of malice have abused me to your ear, (For by yourself I am all innocent) Cor. What do you mean Claudiana? Cla. Sir, your question Hath frighted me, 'tis strange, and killing to My tender apprehension. Cor. You're a fool To be thus troubled, and but that I know The purity of thy faith to me, this language Would make me jealous, 'tis an ill dressed passion, And paleness, that becomes not Claudiana To wear upon her modest cheek, I see Thy heart sick in thy eyes, be wise, and cure it, My question was but mirth, without the sense Of the least scruple in myself, or meaning To discompose one cheerful look. Cla. Your pardon. Cor. And you as safely might have answered me. As I had casually asked the time o'th' day; What dressing you delight in, or what gown You most affect to wear. Cla. Once more I ask you pardon, you restore me, And I am now secured by your clear goodness, To give my weak opinion— Cor. Of the man That did appear in thy thoughts to deserve Most honour. Cla. You'll excuse a woman's verdict, My voice is for the stranger sir. Cor. Why so! You like him best; what horror was in this Poor question now? you mean the English man? Cla The same, most graceful in his parts & person. Cor. 'Tis well, I'm satisfied, and we both meet In one opinion too, he is indeed The bravest Cavalier, what hurt's in all This now? I see you can distinguish, wert thou A virgin Claudiana, thou wouldst find Gentle and easy thoughts to entertain So promising a servant; I should be Taken with him myself, were I a Lady, And loved a man. Cla. How's this? my fears return. Enter Bellaura and Georgio. Cor. Madam Bellaura the Duke's charge is entered The Garden, let's choose another walk. Ex. Bel. Why you are conceited sirrah, does wit Grow in this Garden? Ge. Yea, Madam while I am in't, I am a slip myself. Bel. Of Rosemary or time? Ge. Of wit sweet Madam. Bel. 'Tis pity, but thou shouldst be kept with watering, Ge. There's wit in every Flower, if you can gather it. Bel. I am of thy mind. But what's the wit prithee of yonder tulip? Ge. You may read there the wit of a young Courtier. Bel. What's that? Ge. Pride, and show of colours, a fair promising, Dear when 'tis bought, and quickly comes to nothing. Bel. The wit of that rose? Ge. If you attempt Madam to pluck a rose, I shall find a moral in't. Bel. No Country wit? Ge. That grows with potherbs, and poor roots, which here Would be accounted weeds, course things of profit, Whose end is kitchen Physic, and sound health; Two things not now in fashion. Bel. Your wit dances. Where learned you all these morals? Geo. ay but glean From my young master Giovanni Madam, he'll run division upon every flower, He has a wit able to kill the weeds, And ripen all the fruit in the Duke's Orchard. Bel. Where is Giovanni? Geo. He went betimes toth' Academy, He is at all the exercises, we Shall ha' such news when he comes home. Bel. Why does Your master (being rich) suffer his son To work i'th' garden? Geo. My master? he's an honest mortal man Madam, It is my mistress, that commands him to't, A shrew, and loves him not, but 'tis no matter; I ha' the better company, he's here. Enter Giovanni. I'll leave him to you Madam, I must now Water my plants. Exit. Bel. Why? how now Giovanni, you frequent I hear The Academies. Gio. When I can dispense Madam, with time, and these employments, I Intrude a glad spectator at those schools Of wit and action, which although I cannot Reach, I am willing to admire, and look at With pity of myself lost here in darkness. Bel. By this expression I may conceive How much you have improved, & gained a language Courtly, and modest. Gio. Madam, you are pleased To make my uneven frame of words your mirth. I profess nothing but an humble ignorance, And I repent not, if by any way (My duty and manners safe) it may delight you. Bel. Indeed Giovanni I am pleased, but not With your suspicion, that my praises are Other then what become my ingenuous meaning, For if I understand, I like your language, But with it I commend your modest spirit. Gio. It is an honour Madam, much above My youth's ambition, but if I possess A part of any knowledge you have deigned To allow, it owes itself unto this school. Bel. What school? Gio. This Garden Madam, 'tis my Academy, Where gentlemen, and Ladies (as yourself, The first and fairest, durst I call you mistress,) every my ear, and observation With harmony of language, which at best I can but coldly imitate. Bel. Still more courtly! Why how now Giovanni, you will be Professor shortly in the art of compliment, You were best quit the Garden, & turn Courtier. Gio. Madam, I think upon the Court with reverence, My fate, is to adore it afar off, It is a glorious Landscape, which I look at As some men with narrow optic glasses Behold the stars, and wonder at their vast (Though unknown) habitable worlds of brightness: But were my eye a nearer judge, and I Admitted to a clearer knowledge Madam Of the Court life, there I might find the truth Of man's best Ideas, and enjoy the happiness, Now only mine by naked speculation, I think how there I should throw off my dust And rise a new Creation. Bel. The Court Is much beholding to you Giovanni. Gio. It is a duty Madam I owe truth. Bel. A truth in supposition all this while. Gio. I should be sad if any experience should Betray an error in my faith, and yet So soft and innocent a trespass, Madam, Might well expect a pardon. Bel. Some that have Freely enjoyed the pleasures, or what else You so advance in Court, have at the last Been weary, and accused their gay Condition, Nay, changed their state for such an humble life As you profess, a gardener. Geo. I despise not What I was born to Madam, but I should Imagine the disease lay in the mind, Not in the Courtier, that would throw away So spacious a blessing to be servile. Bel. You know not Giovanni your own happiness, Nor the Court sins, the pride and surfeits there Come not within your circle, there are few Pursue those noble tracts your fancy aims at, It is a dangerous Sea to launch into, Both shelves and rocks you see not, ay, & mermaids. Gio. What are they Madam? Bel. You have heard of Mermaids. Gio. You mean not women I hope Madam? Bel. Yes. Gio. Oh do not by so hard an application Increase the poet's torment, that first made That fabulous story to disgrace your sex, You're firm, and the fair seal of the great maker, A print next that of Angels. Bel. We are bound t'ee If our cause want a flourish, you have art To make us show fair. Gio. And you are so, 'Tis malice dares traduce you; or blind ignorance That throws her strains, which fall off from your figures, For those which weaker understandings call Your spots, are ermines, and can such as these Darlings of heaven, and nature, women, shoot At Court an influence like unlucky planets? They cannot sure, why you live Madam there, That are enough to prove all praise, a truth, And by a sweet example make 'em all Such as you are objects, of love and wonder, Oh then how blessed are they that live at Court, With freedom to converse with so much virtue; As your fair sex embraceth. Enter Ursula. Bel. Here's your mother. Gio. she was too hasty. Vrs. Madam I hope you'll pardon my son's rudeness To hold discourse with your Ladyship. Bel. 'Tis a courtesy, And he talks well to pass away the time, Exceeding well, but I must to my Guardian The Duke— Exit. Vrs. Happiness attend your Ladyship. Now sir what are you thinking of? Gio. Your pardon, nothing. Vrs. Nay stay, I must talk with you myself, But first what talk had you with my Lady? Gio. She was pleased to ask some questions. Vrs. What were they? Gio. I ha' forgot. Vrs. You ha' forgot you're a lewd And saucy boy, go to, your father spoils you; Enter Roberto. Vrs. But if you use me sirrah o'th' this fashion I'll break your pate, I will, the Duke's own son (My blessing upon him) would not answer me With I ha' forgot, I warrant you, but you— Ro. Why, how now Ursula, what? perpetual clamours? Vrs. Oh here's your stickler. Gio. Nothing unkind to me, she was angry With your servant Georgio, and threatened to break His head, away— Geo. My head? come heels.— Exit. Ro. Was it but so? she shall, she shall do that, With all my heart, and I will break it too. Vrs. Nay, than I will be friends with him. Ro. Where's the knave? Vrs. I won't be compelled to break his head, And you were twenty husbands; fare you well. Ro. 'Tis such a wasp, but she sha'not wrong thee. Gio. I know she won't sir, she is my mother, She comes again. Enter Thomazo, Malipiero, Barnardo and Marcello. Vrs. My heart does leap to see you. Ro. The Duke's son, and a troop of gallants, but I always have sore eyes to see one there, That Signior Malipiero, he does owe me Already forty Crowns, and I forgive him. Mal. Signior Roberto, remember that I owe You forty Crowns. Ro. Pray, do you forget 'em. Mal. I never pay till it come to a hundred. Ro. Never pay! it is no matter Signior. I were best be gone before he borrow more, It is a trick he uses to put on With his rich clothes, I'll vanish. Exit. Mal. Strange this English man appears not? Vrs. I was afraid you had been sick my Lord. Tho. I was never sick in my life, but when I had a fever, or some other infirmity. I'll call thee nurse still. Giovanni. Gio. Sir. Tho. Thou lookest like a changeling. Gio. The more's my misfortune. You are the Duke's son. Exit. Tho. Who can help it? nurse, Vrs. He was never courteous to women. Here's a gentleman, and they talk of a gentleman, Now could I weep for joy. I must take my leave sir. Tho. I must make bold with my nurse. Vrs. Blessings upon thy heart, how sweetly he kisses. Here was a touch for a Lady. Exit. Tho. Go thy ways, An admirable twanging lip, pity thou art A thought too old: ha wagtail! Ber. Does he come alone? Mal. Alone, be you resolute When you see me draw, shoot all your points Into his heart. Ber. Be confident. Mar. Unless He be steel-proof, he sha'not boast abroad Much victory in Venice. Enter Florelli, and Giovanni. Gio. Signior Thomazo sir, is there. Flo. I thank you. Gio. You pay too much sir for no service. Tho. Here he is. We were wagering thou wouldst not keep thy promise. Flo. I durst not make that forfeit of your grace, I most consult my own, when I am careful To wait upon your honour. Mal. You are noble. Flo. Your humble servant gentlemen. Tho. Where didst sup? Flo. I was not willing to engage myself Abroad, lest I might trespass on your patience. Tho. What shall's do this evening? Mal. Walk a turn, And then to a bona roba. Ber. A match. Tho. Giovanni! Thy spade, and hold my cloak. Mal. What's the device? Tho. I have 'great mind to dig now, dost think I cannot Handle a spade, I'll make a bed with my Gentlemen now For a hundred Ducats. Mal. 'Tis a base employment, Fit for such a drudge as Giovanni. Gio. Sir! Mal. A drudge? I said, d'ee scorn your little dunghill breed? Gio. This is not noble. Mal. How mole-catcher? Flo. Forbear he is not armed. Mal. You were best be his champion. Tho. Are you good at that? I do not love to wear my doublet pinked. Exit. Gio. Three against one? Giovanni recovers a sword, having first used his spade to side with the Englishman: Bernardo having lost his weapon flies. Mal. Hold. Gio. I am no drudge you'll find To be commanded sir, you painted flies, And only fit for trouts. Flo. Let's give 'em play, and breath. Mal. Lost our advantage? is Thomazo fled? Mar. And Bernardo, we were best retire, that Gardiner Will stick me into ground, else for a plant. Exit. Mal. Expect we'll be revenged. Exit. Gio. Let's prevent 'em. Flo. They are not worth it Giovanni, so I heard you named. Gio. My name is Giovanni. Flo. Thou hast relieved, and saved my life, I find Their base conspiracy, what shall I pay Thy forward rescue? Gio. 'Tis but what I owe To justice, with the expense of blood and life To prevent treachery, reward I have Received i'th' act, if I have done you service. But 'twas your innocence that made such haste To your own valour, not my sword preserved you. I am young, and never taught to fight. Flo. I prithee Accept this trifle, buy a sword, and wear it, Thou hast deserved to thrive a nobler way Than thy condition shows. Gio. Though some would call This bounty, urge it not to my disgrace, I scorn to sell the motion of my arm! I fear you are not safe yet, there may be Danger in following them, and it grows dark. Have patience while I fetch a key, that shall Befriend you with a private way. Exit. Flo. thouart noble, Though I am careless where the terms of honour Engage my life, 'tis wisdom not to lose it Upon their base revenge, but I must study Some other payment for this young man's courage. howe'er his body suffer in a cloud, His spirit's not obscure, but brave, and active. Enter Cornari and Brano's armed. Cor. If my intelligence fail not, he must be Here still. This evening hath put on a Vizard To conspire with me, there he walks, surprise him. They seize upon him, bind his arms and feet, and blind him with a bag. Flo. villains, Cowards, Slaves, my sword. Bra. If you be loud, we'll strange you. Cor. Dispatch. Bra. We ha' done sir, is he for the river now? Cor. No, follow me. Exeunt. Enter Giovanni. Gio. These show like officers, Alas he's apprehended on their base Complaint, I cannot help; thy cause and innocence Must now befriend thee! base world! yet I may Injure, the parts abroad; 'tis only Venice Is sick with these distempers, then I'll leave it, And instantly pursue some other fate I'th' wars, it may cure something too within me, That is denied all remedy at home, Some bodies for their Physic, are designed To change of air, I'll try't upon my mind. Ex. Act. 3. Enter Malipiero and Thomazo. Tho. NOt this Englishman to be found? Mal. he's not above ground Where I could suspect him in the City— Tho. Let him go, may be his haste toppled him Into the river, and we may eat his nose In the next haddock. Mal. Wherefore did you fly? Tho. Dost think 'twas fear? Mal. 'Twas something like a will, To keep your skin from eyelet-holes. Tho. I grant you, What had I to do to bring up a fashion? Mal. We might ha'gone a sure and nearer way To ha' killed him in a right line with a bullet, But let him go, so he quit Venice any way. Tho. He would spoil our mirth, but I much wonder Bernardo is not come yet, whom I sent Ambassador for money to the Merchants. Mal. Nor Marcello, whom I employed to the same end, To my most Costive Uncle for some goldfinches. Tho. Why should the state have an Exchequer, and We want? Mal. For pious uses too, to drink their health; And see the Commonwealth go round In mutual commerce of mirth and spirit, Which phlegm and usury hath almost stifled, Sobriety and long gowns spoil the City. 'Tis we would keep the body politic From stinking, ulcered with long obligations, And notaries, which now stuff the Rialto, And poison honest natures, that would else Live freely, and be drunk at their own charge. Tho. I would make new laws, and I were Duke of Venice. Mal. We would not sit i'th' chimney corner then, And sing like Crickets. Tho. We would roar like Trumpets, And deaf the Senators with, give us your moneys— Mal. theirs? give us our own, their states, their wives, And wardrobes Scanderbeg. Tho. And their pretty daughters, My valiant Turk, who should feed high o' purpose— Mal. To keep the wanton blood in titillations. Tho. It should be a Law, no maid should be in fashion. Mal. Yes let 'em be in fashion, but not hold. Tho. Not after fourteen be it then enacted. Mal. we would banish all the Advocates that refused To pimp, and prove it Civil Law. Tho. No scribe should dare to show his ears in our Dominions Mal. Hang 'em, they are labels of the Law, and stink, Worse than a fish-shambles in lent. No jew Should turn a Christian upon peril of A Confiscation. Tho. Why? Mal. The slaves are rich, To turn 'em Christians were to spoil their Conscience, And make 'em hide their money, 'tis less evil In state to cherish jews, than Christian Usurers. Tho. I will have every Citizen a Jew then. Mal. We have built no Seraglio yet. Tho. That's true, What think you of the Universities? Would not they serve? Mal. O excellent, They have several schools for several games. Tho. And scaffolds For the spectators when we keep our acts. Mal. The College rents would find the wench's petticoats, And the revenues of a score of Abbeys Well stripped; would serve to roll 'em in clean linen, And keep the toys in diet. Tho. excellent! But when we have converted to the use The Monasteries, where shall we bestow The Friars, and the thin religious men? Mal. You may Keep them with little charge, water is all The blessing their poor thirst requires, and tailor's Won't be troubled for new clothes, a hair shirt Will outwear a Copyhold, and warm 4 lives, Or if you think 'em troublesome, it is A fair pretence to send 'em to some wild Country to plant the faith, and teach the infidels A way to Heaven, for which they may be burnt Or hanged, and there's an end o'th' honest men. There be a thousand ways to quiet them. Tho. My admirable Counsellor, thou shouldst be My supreme officer to see Justice done. Mal. You cannot honour men of worth too much. Tho. we'll ha' the bridges all pulled down, and made Of silver. Mal. Dross! Gold is our orient metal. Enter Bernardo. Here is Benardo, welcome, where's the money? Ber. Not a gazet: the merchants are all sullen, And say you owe too much already. Mal. These are Dogbolts. 'Tis time we had new laws and they won't trust. Tho. But we must build No golden bridges at this rate with sunbeams. Mal. They were best content themselves with honest stone, Hard as the heart of your ungodly Merchants. Tho. Prithee let's leave our dream of frighting Sailors, And say, what hope hast thou of getting money For this day's mirth? Mal. Some hope there is, if my Uncle have but faith Enough, to credit what I never mean, Thrift and submission, and holy matters; 'Tis all the ways are left to cozen him And creep into his nature, I have pawned All my religion that I'll turn friar. Tho. Hast pawned thy religion, much good do him, Let him take the forfeit, so he send thee money— Mal. For present use, and howl, and hang himself. I care not— oh— here's Marcello. Enter Marcello. Did'st speak with him? Mar. Yes. Mal. That's well. Mar. He does commend him to you, and with it this— Mal. I knew 'twould take, his tender conscience Tho. Hast thou prevailed? Mar. This halter— he has tied the knot himself, And says next the philosopher's stone, he knows not What thing of nobler value to present you: And rather than you should delay for want Of a convenient— you know what, you should Once more peruse his Orchard, there's one tree He would have bear no other fruit. Mal. I thank him. For his fine noose, would I had his neck in't, The Devil should not conjure him from this circle. Is this the end of all? Tho. No, not of all. Mal. I prithee try how it will hold— d''ee hear Let's lay our heads together. Which of you Is best acquainted with the Turk? Tho. What Turk. Mal. The great and mighty Sultan, the grand Signior. Or have you but a Christian correspondence With any of his heathen officers. Tho. What to do? Mal. No rogue that lies perdieu here for intelligence? Ber. What then? Mal. I would make a bargain with him now and sell This City to the Pagan instantly. Venice is a Jewel, a rich pendant; Would hang rarely at the great Turks ear. Tho. No doubt. Mal. Or at one horn of his half Moon. Mar. I think so. Mal. I would betray if I knew how, the state Or any thing for half a hundred Ducats To make one merry night, though after I Were broke upon a wheel, or set upright To peep through a cleft tree like a polecat In the high way— no money from the mongrels? Well if I live. I will to Amsterdam, And add another schism to the two hundred Fourscore and odd; I am resolved. Tho. What? Mal. To cry down all things That hang on wit, truth, or religion. Tho. Come, thou art passionate, is there no trick? No lewd device? let me see?— I have thought Away to raise us my dear Tully, a project Shall raise us, or I'll venture— Mal. What? Tho. My neck For hanging is the end of my device, Unless I thrive in't: go to the rendezvous, To Rosabella's O' the grand Cavale, Kiss her and call for wines, my bully-rooks, A dish of dainty fiddlers to curvet too, And drink a health that I may prosper, tumble And shake the house, I'll fetch you off. Mal. But signior— Tho. No more words, cannot you be gone, be drunk, And leave me to the reckoning, I'll return With Indian spoils like Alexander. Exit. Mal. Spoken Like a true Macedonian, we are gone. He's right, and may in time, and our good breeding Be brought to something, may deserve the Galleys. Follow your leaders Myrmidons. Both. We attend. Exeunt. Enter Giovanni and Georgio. Ge. But will you venture Signior Giovanni Your body to the wars indeed? Gio. I mean so. Ge. And leave me to be lost, or thrown away Among the weeds here! Gio. Try thy fortune wi'me. Ge. Yes, and come hopping home upon one leg. Will all my pay then buy a handsome halter To hang my arm in, if it be but maimed, Yet I endure a battle every day, My mistress hath a mouth carries whole Cannon; And if you took that engine to the wars, You would find it do rare service. Gio. What? Ge. Her tongue; Make her but angry, and you'll need no more Artillery to scour them with a breach. What spoil her breath would make in a market place? Gio. Be less satirical; I must not hear this, she is my mother. Geo. She is my mistress, and that's worse, but I'm resolved, I'll to the wars w'e, do not tell her on't, My prenticeship is worse than killing there. My hand, I'll w'ee. Gio. In the mean time buy ye a sword, and belt, And what is fit. Gives him money. Ge. No more, I'll be a soldier; And kill according to my pay, this will Suffice to vamp my body, I may rise If I grow rich in valour, that will do't, Money and a tilting feather make a Captain. Exit. Gio. There is no other way to quiet the Afflictions here, beside 'tis honourable, And war a glorious mistress. Enter Bellaura, and Roberto. 'Tis Bellaura and my Father. Bel. I know Madam you may break his resolution, If you be pleased, you may command; he's here. Bel. I'll try my skill. Ro. Blessings attend your Ladyship. I'll wait for the success. Exit. Bel. How now Giovanni, What with a sword, you were not used to appear Thus armed, your weapon is a spade I take it. Gio. It did become my late profession Madam; But I am changed. Bel. Not to a soldier. Gio. It is a title Madam will much grace me, And with the best collection of my thoughts I have ambition to the war. Be. You have? Gio. Oh 'tis a brave profession, and rewards All loss we meet with double weight in glory, A calling Princes still are proud to own, And some do willingly forget their crowns To be commanded, 'tis the spring of all We here entitle fame to, Emperors And all degrees of honours, owing all Their names to this employment, in her vast And circular embraces holding Kings, And making them; and yet so kind as not To exclude such private things as I, who may Learn and commence in her great arts. My life Hath been too useless to myself and Country, 'Tis time I should employ it to deserve A name within their Registry, that bring The wealth, the harvest home of well bought honour. Bel. It is an active time I must confess, And the unhappy scene of war too near us But that it should inflame you on the sudden To leave a calm, and secure life, is more Than commonly it works on men of your Birth, and condition, besides I hear Your Father is not willing you should leave him, To engage yourself in such apparent danger. Here you will forfeit your obedience Unless you stay. Gio. I cannot despair Madam Of his consent, and if by my own strength Of reason I incline him not, it was In my ambition to address my humble Suit to your Ladyship to gain it for me, At worst it is no breach of duty Madam, If I prefer my Country and her cause Now bleeding, before any formal ties Of nature to a soft indulgent father. For danger, let pale souls consider it, It is beneath my fears. Bel. Yet I can see Through all this resolution iovanni? 'Tis something else hath wrought this violent change, Pray let me be of counsel with your thoughts, And know the serious motive, come be clear, I am no enemy, and can assist Where I allow the cause. Gio. You may be angry Madam, and chide it as a saucy pride In me to name, or look at honour, nor Can I but know what small addition Is my unskilful arm to aid a Country. Bel. I may therefore justly suspect, there is Something of other force that moves you to The wars, enlarge my knowledge with the secret. Gio. At this command I open my heart, Madam, I must confess there is another cause Which I dare not in obedience Obscure, since you will call it forth, and yet I know you will laugh at me. Bel. It would ill Become my breeding Giovanni. Gio. Then, Know Madam, I'm in love. Bel. In love with whom? Gio. With one I dare not name, she's so much Above my birth and fortunes. Bel. I commend Your flight, but does she know it? Gio. I durst never Appear with so much boldness to discover My hearts so great ambition, 'tis here still, A strange and busy guest. Bel. And you think absence May cure this wound. Gio. Or death. Bel. I may presume, You think she's fair. Gio. I dare as soon question your beauty Madam, The only ornament, and star of Venice, Pardon the bold comparison, yet there is Something in you resembles my great mistress She blushes— Such very beams disperseth her bright eye Powerful to restore decrepit nature, But when she frowns, and changes from her sweet Aspect (as in my fears I see you now Offended at my boldness) she does blast Poor Giovanni thus, and thus I wither At heart, and wish myself a thing lost in My own forgotten dust, but it's not possible At last (if any stars bless but high thoughts) By some desert in war, and deeds of honour.) (For mean as I, have raised themselves to Empire) That she without a blush to stain her cheek May own me for a servant— I am lost In wandering apprehensions. Bel. Poor Giovanni, I pity thee, but cannot cure— I like Thy aspiring thoughts, and to this last of love, Allow the wars a noble remedy. Enter Roberto and Ursula. I have argued against your sons resolve, but find His reasons overcome my weak dispute. And I must counsel you to allow 'em too. Urs. Nay, I was never much against it Madam. Ro. She loves him not, but does your Ladyship Think fitting, he should go? Bel. Yes, yes 'tis honourable; And to encourage his forward spirit, The General is my kinsman Giovanni, What favours he can do you, you shall have My letters to entreat, and at my charge You shall be furnished like a Gentleman, Attend me at my lodgings. Gio. You bind all My services; why this will make a show yet. Ro. Nay, then take my consent and blessing too. Urs. And mine: the Duke. Exeunt. Enter Duke and Marino. Du. Bellaura, I must speak to you. Bel. I attend. Du. You have my purpose, and return me clearly How he bestows himself, and what society Withdraws him from his duty thus. Mar. I shall With my best care. Du. I fear that Malipiero, [with Bellaura] But let me find your diligence: Bellaura. Exit. The Scene adorned with Pictures amongst the rest Claudiana's Enter Bravoes with the Englishman, they unbind him and Exeunt. Flo. I am all wonder: shall I trust my senses. A fair and pleasant gallery; was I Surprised for this? or do I dream, I did Expect the end of my conveyance should Have been more fatal, No tract appears, or sign of those that brought me, The place is rich in ornament, sure these Are Pictures, all things silent as the Images, And yet these speak, some do inhabit here, This room was not ordained only for air And shadows, 'tis some flattering Prologue to My death, some plot to second the affront Of Malipiero with more scorn to ruin me. Enter Cornari with a case of pistols. What art? Cor. A friend. Flo. That posture and presentment Promise no great assurance, yet there's something Within that noble frame would tempt me to Believe thou art. Cor. What? Flo. A black murderer. Point not thy horrid messengers of death Upon a man disarmed, my bosom is No proof against those fiery Executioners. How came I to deserve from thee unknown So black a purpose, as thy looks present me? I never saw thy face, nor am I conscious Of any act, in whose revenge, thou hast Put on this horror, let me know my guilt Before I die, although I never lived At that poor rate to fear a noble death; Yet unprepared, and thus to die, doth something Stagger my soul, and weaken my resolve To meet thy Execution, thou hast Too good a face to be a Mercenary Cutthroat, and Malipiero would become The hangman's office better. Cor. You believe then, How easily I can command your destiny, I have no plot with any Malipiero, And thus remove thy fears He carries in the pistols and returns. Flo. Is he gone? Cor. You're still within My power, but call yourself my guest, not prisoner, And if you be not dangerous to yourself Nothing is meant but safety here and honour. Flo. This does amaze me more; but do Italians Compel men to receive their courtesies? Cor. I must not give you reasons; yet for your Surprise, you may receive a timely knowledge And not repent. I am a Gentleman, And by that name secure thee, if you can Fancy a peace with this restraint, 'tis none But something that may please you above freedom, If your unruly thoughts tempt a resistance, Death is let in, at every thing you look at. Flo. I'll leave my wonder and believe, what now Must I obey? Cor. First walk away your fright. Flo. 'Tis off. Cor. How do you like this gallery? Flo. 'Tis very handsome. Cor. And these pictures. Flo. Well. Cor. Your eyes are yet too careless, pray examine 'em. Flo. They cannot answer. Cor. Now your opinion. Flo. Very good faces. Cor. Have your eyes ever Met with a substance that might reflect On any of these shadow's sir in Venice? Flo. Never. Cor. Look a little better, is there nothing Of more than common curiosity, In any of these beauties. Flo. I have seen Fair ones, what should this mean? Cor. But pray tell me, Of these (which some have praised for handsomeness) Which doth affect you most? I guess you have By frequent view, and the converse with Ladies Arrived at excellent judgement: Flo. I did not Expect this Dialogue, yet I'll be free, I profess stranger to 'em all, but this [pointing to Claudiana] I should elect the fairest and most worthy A masculine Embrace. I build upon The promise of your Honour, I should else Be nice in my opinion. Cor. You are just, And I prefer that too, what will you say To call that Lady Mistress, and enjoy her? she's noble to my knowledge, but enough At this time. I must pray your kind excuse If (whilst) you walk into this room Opening the hanging. Flo. A fair one. Cor. Which is designed your lodging, I become Your jailor, and make sure this Gallery Till my return; be constant to your temper, There shall be nothing wanting to procure You safe, and pleasant hours. Flo. Distrust falls off. I will expect to find you noble, though My faith bind not to all, and enter. Exit. Cor. So. I tread a maze too, but must not resign My office, till I perfect my design Exit. Enter Malipiero with Rosabella dancing, [Dance] Bernardo, Marcello. Ber. Active Malipiero. Mar. Excellent They move as they had nothing else but soul. Mal. So, drink, we are not merry, here's a health To my hen sparrow. Mar. Let it walk round. Ber. What Rosabella's health? before the states— Mal. Hang States, and Commonwealths we will be Emperors; And laugh, and drink away whole Provinces. Shall we not didapper? Ro. What you please, but will Signior Thomazo be here presently, and bring— Mal. The golden Fleece, thou Lady Guinever, And he shall mount thy little modesty, And ride like Agamemnon, and shall pay for't, While we, like valiant Greeks in lusty wine, Drench the remembrance that we are mortal, More wine, my everlasting Marmoset. Ber. Brave Malipiero still! our grand signior's health, [Drinks] Signior Thomazo. Mal. Let it come squirrels, And then a song my pretty Rosabella, Which of the Senators were here last night To court thee with a draught of dissolved pearl? Be supple to thy friends, and let thy men Of state, who hide their warped legs in long gowns, And keep their wisdom warm in furs like agues, Most grave and serious follies, wait, and want The knowledge of thy fiddle, my dear Dowsabel. Ro. What hath advanced your brain thus Malipiero? You were not wont to talk at such a height, There is some mighty fortune dropping, is Your Uncle sick, whose heir you hope to be? Mal. Hang Uncles, there's a damp in's very name. Wine, or I sink,— so now thy song, come sit. Rosabella sings. Enter Thomazo with Marino. Tho. Nay you shall enter, Gentlemen, my friend, Salute him, Malipiero, he is one May do us service. Mar. sir! I'll take my leave. Tho. That were a jest, you shall stay by this hand, Who has the wine, drink to my noble friend, Whilst I embrace my Queen of Carthage. Ro. Welcome. Mal. I have seen this Gentleman wait near your Father. Tho. Right in his bedchamber, a sober Coxcomb, We met by chance, let's make him drunk, I have The brave devices here boy. Mal. Good: you're welcome, Fill me a tun of wine. Mari. How Signior! Mal. It is too too little for a friend. Mari. They'll drown me, here's a precious knot Tho. I hug thee Cleopatra, Gentlemen, Am not I behind half a score glasses, fill, Come charge me home, I'll take it here He takes the bottle. Mari. What will become of me? they mean to drench Me for the sullens, I am like to have A very fine time, and employment here. Tho. But ha'you ne'er a banquet? Ros. 'Tis preparing. Tho. Let it be as rich as the Egyptian Queen Made for Mark Anthony; in the mean time What limb of wantonness have you ready for My noble friend here, get him a fine flesh saddle, Or where's thy mother, now I think upon't, He loves to ride upon a pad. Mari. Not I sir. Mal. Oh by all means Signior. He shall go to the price of any Ladyware. Mari. Who I? alas my tilting days are done, nay, nay, then I'll drink w'ee gentlemen, but I cannot tumble Tho. Why then here's to thee. Mari. No Lady beware for me sweet Mistress, I blush to say I cannot mount at this time. Would I were off again, polecats for me? Tho. Now gentlemen wipe your eyes Shows a Cabinet. Mari. A Cabinet of rich Jewels. Tho. And how, and how show things? Is't fit we want to revel, while my father Has these toys idle, we grope in the dark And lose our way, while such bright stars as these May light us to a wench? Mari. There is no conscience in't. But what shall we do with 'em? there's a lustre Hath struck me into a flame. Mal. Drink half, and tumble out the rest In featherbeds. Tho. Where's Rosabella, to lend money? Mari. Stay, sir, She never can disburse to half their value, Beside I know their sly and costive natures. I am acquainted with a Jew, are we All faithful? are there no traitors here? I am acquainted with a Jew shall furnish you To purpose, & transport these, where they sha'not Betray from whence they came: trust her? 'tis dangerous, Besides the scanting of your mirth, by a Penurious Son, give me the Cabinet— You're sure all these are friends, & will say nothing? Tho. I warrant thee; what luck had I to meet him. Mal. Will you trust him? Tho. he's one of us, make haste, a mighty sum. Mari. I'll bring a storm of Ducats instantly. Exit. Tho. So, so toth' wine again. Mal. You need not spend the total here, I have use For forty of those Ducats. Tho. S'hat have fifty. Mal. These gentlemen are out of figleaves too. Some fresher robes would show well. Tho. They shall have New skins my Holofernes. Mal. I'll have half. B. M. A match. Mal. Wine, to our Generalissimo. Tho. That's I, I understand the Metaphor. It shall have law, oh for some trumpets now. Mal. Tantarra rara boys', outroar the winds And drink the sun into Eclipse, hang miching, But where's my wanton Pinnace? Ber. Boarded by. Some man of war by this time. Mar. She is spooned away. Mal. My top and top gallant gone? ha! are there Pirates Upon these ghosts; give fire upon the water-rats, And shoot pell-mell, fight as a whirlwind flings, Disordering all, what man of Menaces Dare look awry upon my catamountain? Tho. Not I: now he's got rampant, he'll kill somebody. Ber. You must not be affrighted, tother lift And be a Giant eke, and talk of terrors With words Olympus high. Tho. Will that do't? Ber. Oh sir. Tho. Give me the bottle then? Mal. Suppose thou wert my Uncle now, come hither, Hold thy head fair, that I may whip it off. Mar. Mine's nothing like, Bernardo has been taken For your Uncle Signior. Mal. How dare you be like The rogue my Uncle sirrah? Ber. I sir? 'tis Signior Thomazo that he means, and see For very fear his head falls off Thomazo was drinking and here sets down the bottle. Mal. Reach it me, I'll drink a health, then in his skull. Tho. Who talks of me, who dares mention A thought of me? where be the dainty ducats? Enter Marino. Mari. The money's coming sir, six men are laden, And will be here immediately. Mal. Thou shalt drink A health, kneel venerable sir. Tho. Be humble, Thou man of maligo, or thou diest Mari. I do sir. [Kneels] Mal. To the Town, a fire. Mar. What d'ee mean Signior. Tho. He has a very good meaning, never doubt it. Mal. That you shall pledge, or forfeit your sconce to me, None shall have the honour to pledge this health, But this whey bearded Signior. Tho. Now do my brains tumble, tumble, tumble— Mal. give it him, And drink it with devotion as I did. Tho. I long to see these double, double— hickets But where's the Cockatrice, this whirligig? Is my head fast? Mar. The screw is firm, suspect not. Mari. I dare not pray nor ask forgiveness here. Tho. Do not my brains now turn upon the toe. Mal Do you hear my doughty Signior Thomazo, Wouldst you kill the Duke, your graceless father now? Tho. Yes marry will I. Mal. You shall let him into the Chamber one night, Where he shall strangle him. Tho. Or I can play upon his windpipe rarely. Mal. we'll see (d''ee mark) some corner of the Palace A fire, at the same time, and in that hurry Break into the Treasury, take what we think fit, And steal away by Sea into another Country. Mari. Most admirably contrived; the men are come. Enter Officers. Tho. hay, the money boys? Mari. Disarm the traitors. Mal. Plots, ambuscadoes, are these your Jew tricks. Mari. I'll wait till you have slept away your surfeit, Here in the house. Tho. Which is the Jew of all these? Mal. We are cheated by a Court-nap. Tho. My friend, are you the Jew? where be the Jewels. Mari. Truth is, I have sent the Jewels to your Father, And he will lend no money. Tho. No money? Mal. But must we go to prison? Tho. I'll to prison with 'em spite o'your teeth. Mari. Not, till you have slept, this way. Exit. with Tho. Enter Rosabella. Ro. The Banquet's ready gentlemen. Mal. A rescue. We are snatched up for traitors, we are betrayed, And going to prison. Ro. Who pays for the wine and banquet? Mal. Why any living body, that has a scruple In's Conscience, for the loss of thy dear Comfits, And Caraways, away, lead me ye rogues. I'll not march else, and let us make a show, My fine officious rascals, on afore, I follow in fit state, so farewell firelock. Ros. I shall be undone. Mal. Undoing is thy trade, March on I say. Exeunt. Act. 4. Enter Cornari, after him Claudiana. Clau. YOur pleasure sir; you did command my presence. Cor. Are you come? you and I must not be Interrupted Claudiana. Claud. Why do you shut your Chamber? Cor. we must be private. How does my life? Clau. Well sir, if you be so. Cor. I have a suit to thee, my best Caudiana. Clau. To me? it must be granted. Cor. That's well said, But 'tis a business (sweet) of mighty consequence, More precious than my life. Cla. Goodness forbid I should not give obedience to the least Of your commands, but when your life requires My service, I should chide my heart, and thoughts Unless they put on wings to show their duty. Cor. Nay, 'tis a business sweet will speak thy love. Cor. Thou knowest how many years since the Priest tied Our holy knot, with what religious flowing Of chaste and noble love our hearts have met, How many blessings have I summed in thee, And but in thee, for unto this, Heaven gave not (That which indeed doth Crown all Marriage,) Children, thou hast been fruitful Claudiana In all that's good, but only fruitfulness; And when I think who in my want of that Great blessing of thy womb, must be my heir, A base and impious villain, to possess And riot in my spacious fortunes, I Forget that other happiness in thy person, And let in a vexation to consume me. Cla. I know not what to fear, it is heaven's will And not my fault. Cor. Oh no, the fault is mine, All mine Claudiana, for thou art not barren 'Tis I, a man prodigious and mulcted By nature, without faculty of man To make our marriage happy, and preserve This fair; this lovely figure, be at peace And let me blush, a thing not worth the love Of such a bounteous sweetness. [Kneels] Cla. Let me fall Beneath that which sustains me, ere I take In a belief, that will destroy my peace, Not in the apprehension of what You frame to accuse yourself, but in fear My honour is betrayed to your suspicion; Oh kill me sir, before I lose your thought, Your noble thought. Cor. Rise, with thy tears I kiss Away thy tremblings; I suspect thy honour? My heart will want faith to believe an Angel, That should traduce thy fair name, thou art chaste As the white down of heaven, whose feathers play Upon the wings of a cold winter's gale, Trembling with fear to touch the impurer earth. How are the roses frighted in thy cheeks To paleness, weeping out of transparent dew: When a loose story is but named? thou art The miracle of a chaste wife, from which fair Original, drawn out by heavens own hand, To have had one Copy, I had write perfection To all my wishes here, but 'tis denied me, Nor do I mock thee with a fable, while I miserably complain, convinced, and lost In my own Masculine defect; but yet I love thee Claudiana, dost not think so? And after so much injury, I bring Not my repentance only, but a just And noble satisfaction. Cla. You oppress My senses with the weight of new amazement. Cor. I must be clear, thou must embrace another— Another in my bed, whom from the world I have made choice to know thee, be not frighted This way is left, and this alone to recompense My want, and make both happy. Cla. I embrace Another in your bed? Cor. Dost think I would Attempt, or wish thee to't, without a care In every circumstance to both our fames? Cla. Fame? are you master of your reason? dare you Provoke heaven thus? Cor. Heaven only shall be witness, Whose secrecy I'll trust, but not another's. Beside the principal agent, to get heaven. Cla. You're no Italian sure. Cor. Yes, and thy husband, A just one to thy memory, that would Cancel his faith, rather than be a strict Idolater of words, and severe laws, To the destroying of so sweet a figure; I would not have thee fly like birds i'th' air, Or ships that leave no tract, to say here was, So rich a blessing, rather like a plant Should root, and grow, and bloom, & bear for ever. Cla. I'm lost for ever. Cor. Be wise and meet my wishes, 'tis my love That hath overcome all nice considerings To do thee justice. Nor will I intrude Upon thy bosom one shall be unwelcome, he's honourably born, of comely person, But has a soul adds glory to 'em both, A boy from him, born to my name and fortunes Leaves not another wealth to my ambition. To raise thy free consent my Claudiana, 'Tis he, Whom thou dost think worth thy own praise, The gentleman victorious for his parts, So late in Venice, the English Cavalier. Cla. I am undone. Cor. To be short, I have surprised his person for this use, He hath been many days an obscure guest Within the lodgings next the Garden, for I must confess I have had strugglings in My nature, and have sat in Council 'gainst myself sometime, touching this great affair, But I have answered every thing opposed it, And took this time to acquaint thee. Cla. Good sir kill me. Cor. I will, And him too, if ye mingle not and make The project as I cast it, be not obstinate, Why, he shall ne'er discover who thou act, If thou be faithful to thyself, thou mayst Pretend thyself some pleasant bona roba. Dr take what name, and shape thou wilt. Cla. There's none Can hide my shame, or wash the stain away: Cor. What shame or stain is in't when it is kept A secret darker than the book of destiny From mankind? Cla. Am I practised in those arts? Of sin that he should take me for a Courtesan? Nay, rather let me be known your wife, It will oblige him more to use me well, And thank your loving pains that brought me to him. If I must be a whore, and you a— Cor. Stay, and I a— what? I bleed within me. Cla. This key will make the Chamber free, I follow. Consider sir, I'm else undone for ever Ex. Cor. Why if he know me for her husband, 'tis Without a name, I can secure my honour, And send him quickly to eternal silence. I'm resolved they must obey, proceed, A little blood will wash away this deed. Ex. Enter Duke, Senators, Attendants, Letters upon a Table. Duke Our City drooping with the wounds so late Received, is now to study with what joys To entertain so great a victory. Treviso is returned to our obedience, Almost without a loss, how many fell On the adverse part, those papers signify, And must enlarge our triumph: but is't not Strange what our general writes of Giovanni, Whose spirit he admires, and forward valour, Referring to his bold attempt, our Conquest, That he advanced his head and sword first on The enemy's walls, which inflamed our army To second him with courage, and that after With his own hands he slew their general, Whose fall shot death and trembling through their Army. Can. Where is Giovanni? Du. He is by direction of our general Now marching hither, to his only conduct. The Captives are remitted, and his act By us to be considered, but we have Sent order for the placing of his Prisoners Securely, and commanded he should here Attend our pleasure Gan. The young Gardener? Du. The same, whose early valour takes away The prejudice of humble birth, and aught To be encouraged nobly. Can. 'Tis but justice. Enter Marino. Is't possible the gardiner's Son should so Behave himself in war, He will deserve some honour for't. Du. Why may not Our power dispense, and though his low condition By our rule exempt him (for his gallant service Done) now create him gentleman of Venice, With a noble pension from our treasury To bear his title up? Can. We give it strangers, Whose birth we not examine, He deserves it. Du. Let him receive no favour For his relation to me, but take His place and punishment with the rest, away I cast him from my thought. Exit Marino. Can. Why comes not Our General himself? Du. Reasons of war May yet compel his stay, he's to repair Some breaches which our Soldiers made, & wisely By some new fortification, secure The Town if the Enemy should reinforce. Att. Signior Giovanni waits. Enter Mar. Du. Hath he disposed By our direction those prisoners were Sent by our General? Atten. He hath and please your excellency. Du. Admit him. Enter Giovanni plumed and brave Georgio his servant Gio. All health and honour to the Duke and Senate. Du. We thank thee Giovanni, and will spare Your trouble to 'relate what we have gained I'th' war; Our General writes how much our Venice Doth owe to you, whose maiden yet bold valour, Hath wrought our safety, and suppressed the late Insolent genoese. Gio. Your bounty makes That mine, which I want merit sir to challenge, But if my will to serve my Country (for Beside that name and warm desires, I dare Call nothing mine) you're pleased to accept and cherish A young man's duty, you will teach me in The next employment to deserve indeed. Till when, you lose not, to have built upon This humble pile, a monument of your goodness, To tell the world, although misplaced on me, You love a growing virtue. Du. This Giovanni? His words taste more of courtier than the Garden. To show we understand, and to that knowledge Have will to recompense the desert, Giovanni The Senate bids you ask, what in your power Your thought can aim at, to reward your service, And you shall soon possess it. Geo. Ask, ask quickly, A hundred thousand double double ducats. 'Twill serve us both, do't, beggars must be impudent. Gio. Now you destroy what else might live to serve you, This grace will make me nothing, when I call My airy worth to balance, keep those glorious Rewards for men borne, and brought up in honour? That may be great and able Columns to Your ever envied state; alas I rise Like a thin reed beneath this Commonwealth, Whose weight, an Atlas must sustain like heaven, This favour is too mighty, and if you Command me, ask a just reward, 'tis nothing. Geo. You had as good ha' said nothing, I blush for you, You know many Soldiers So modest, to refuse pay, or preferment? They cannot have it sometimes, after many Petitions to the State, and now their minds Are soluble and apt to pour out favours, You to be so maidenly— Gio. May I credit With pardon of your wisdoms, that you mean To encourage thus the low born Giovanni? Geo. Now he makes question of their honesty too, Oh simple soldier. Du. We look not at thy root, but at thy blossom, And as a preserver of our Country We offer up a gratitude, consult With thy best judgement, (though beside this act Of his abroad) I can give no account [Aside] Why I should love this young man, or prefer him, I know not by what mystery, I have Had thoughts to wish him more than common fortune, And this occasion of his merit offered. I will pursue. Geo. Do as I counsel you, and remember, I Have left my fortunes, and my trade to serve you. Gio. Call it not pride if I be willing to Believe your excellence, that I have done Something your goodness prompts you to reward, And the grave Senate, I have thought. Du. Be free. Geo. Now do I expect to be half a Senator at least. Gio. And since you raise my act to such a merit, I will not ask a thing too much beneath it. Geo. Well said Vannij. Gio. And shame your bounty; yet I may fear You will not grant— Geo. Again? Du. Name it with confidence. Gio. I look at no reward of gold. Geo. How's that? he's out on's part. Gio. I know not, By what fate I contemn it, nor at titles Of honour, or command, or what can trench On state or wealth. Geo. I thank ye heartily, I must to dig again. Gio. Employ such gifts, To pay some slight, and mercenary souls, That make their end of good, reward, and not itself, but since you have imposed I should Make choice of somewhat know my ambition aims— Du. At what? Gio. It is too great a happiness, but I now Consider I have prattled to the wind, What I desire is not within your power, And what you may command, not in my wishes, For I would ask Bellaura: can you make Me fit for such a blessing? no, you cannot, Unless I were unborn, and should again Come forth, not Giovanni, but the Son Of some bright name, and this world-taking honour. Du. Bellaura? strange request. Enter Marino and Bellaura. Mar. Madam I dare not Be seen, if you prevail, I shall attend, And put his mercy into act. Exit. Du. she's here. Bel. I have a suit to your highness. Du. Me Bellaura? Bel. About your son, whom men to your dishonour Lead like some base offender. Du. I must speak The cause into your ear. [Whispers to her] Gio. I was too blame To mention her so public, but my heart Grew sick with silence, and their proposition To ask what I desired most, prevailed Against my reason: Du. Leave him to me, Bellaura. Do you observe that gentleman? Bael 'Tis Giovanni. He does become the soldier. Du. He has done wonders Abroad, and quit our gratitude, to be Only by you rewarded, can you love him? Bel. I understand you not. Du. And marry him? Bel. How have I lost myself, since I became Your charge, a legacy bequeathed your care By my dead father, the late Duke of Venice, That you should think I can descend with such forgetfulness of myself, my birth or fortunes To place my love on one so poorly born. Du. You blush. Bael. 'tis anger in my blood to hear him named. [To Giovanni] You pay me coursely for my charity. Learn modesty hereafter to be grateful. I ha' done wi'ye sir Exit. Geo. Do you here the tit? be wise, And look at ready money, 'tis a better Commodity than any Lady in Christendom; Gio. Pray dismiss, And pardon Giovanni. I am satisfied. For your own honour let not my ambition Be told abroad, I'll check and punish my Aspiring thoughts hereafter. Du. You have leave, Come gentlemen, He is in love. Du. I pity him. Exit. Duke and Senator. Geo. What shall become of us now by your folly? Gio. we'll to the Garden George, and there begin Another growth, for what we have's despised. Geo. I knew I should return to my dear dunghill. Gio. I prithee see the armour which Bellaura Bestowed on me, brought home. Geo. Your armour? yes We might have worn soft natured silk, and you had Been ruled by me, a pox of love for my part, 'Tis good for nothing, but to make things dear. Gio. I'll be revenged upon my stars, that made Me poor, and die forgotten in my shade Ex. A Table prepared, two tapers. Enter Florelli. Flo. I find no great devotion in this Monastic life, the Maior Domo promised A Mistress here of that complexion, But I like not this solitude, And tedious expectations, I shall ne'er do things handsomely, Give me freedom and fair play, And turn me to a harpy, but to be thus Compelled to an embrace (for that's the meaning Of my sly Signior, if it be not worse) Fed high to encounter with an Amazon, I know not? 'tis not well, nor conscionable In my opinion: I hear some busy About the lock. Enter Cornari. My Jailor? What now fellows? Sir, if I must ha' my throat cut, as much Better I do not hope, though I deserve not That bounty from your hands, I live so dully, I would request you set a time, an't be A day or two, to pray and think of matters, And then turn me lose to the other world! Cor. Read that. [gives him a paper] He sha'not see my blushes, I must pity Thee Claudiana, but my stubborn fate Will have it so, it is to make thee live Although we both must suffer, and I like A father thus, whose child at play upon A river's bank, is fallen into the stream, Leap in, and hazard all to save a little, But I must on Exit. Flo. Amazement Circles me, Such wonders are not read in every Marriage, What shall I do? madness to question it. I must resolve or die? since there's no help, 'tis something if she be but like that face To comfort my proceeding. Enter Cornari leading his wife Veiled. Cor. behold, and take as lent this treasure from me, I must expect it back again with interest. locks the door and Ex. Flo. The door is fast again, here is a precedent For husbands that want heirs to their estate. A goodly person. Please you Lady, to Unveil; a rich and most inviting beauty. [she unveils] I am all flame, shall I take boldness, after My duty paid your white hand, to aspire And touch your lip— now could I wish to dwell here. [he kisses] Can you read Lady? She takes the paper & turns. She turns away her face. I hope my Signior Has taken pains to bring her to the business, And not left me to break her: can she speak? Those lines (I know not how you like 'em Madam) Were none of my invention, the character, I guess to be your husband's. I am here A prisoner to his will, to which unless You give obedience, I have took leave Of day for ever, destined by his vow To an eternal shade. Exit Claudiana. She leads the way; Conscience be calm, no grumblings now of piety. Act. 5. Giovanni. The pieces of Armour hung upon several trees Roberto, Ursula. Gio. THese were the excellent Bellaura's gift, Of no use now to me, but to keep fresh The memory of my dreams and that I loved her. I see how passion did blind my reason, And my prodigious hopes vanished to air Have left me to contemplate my own vanity. Ro. I know not, but if I may credit Georgio That did wait on thee to the Senate, thou Hast lost an opportunity, that might Have made us all Clarissimo's Giovanni. I might have kept my reverend Mules, and had My Crupper worshipped by the Plebeians, And Ursula here been Madam heaven knows what, And did you wisely to refuse? Ur. Nay, nay I know He was not born to do us good, not stoop To take preferment from the Duke and Senate? Ro. Well, 'twas his modesty. Ur. He learned it not from me. Ro. No more— Ur. You will be always taking his part against me, But I know, what I know, and that's a secret, Here comes the tother Dunderhead. Enter Georgio. Geo. The armour is hung up already, this We must all come to. Ro. What to the Gibbet Georgio? Pointing to the Helmet. Geo. Master look here. If you had but this hole to put your head in, It would be a great preservative to your hearing, And keep out all the noise, of my dame's culverin, Within this fortification well locked up. You would think her loudest scolding a mere whisper. Urs. What's that you talk of your Dame sirrah? Geo. Oh dame, I have news for you. Urs For me? what is't? whom does your news concern? Geo. One that you love with all your heart. Ro. Who is't knave? Geo. Knave? call your word in, and eat it, I'll advise, You may fare worse: you do not hear the news then? Urs. I shall when you'll find utterance. Geo. The news— We are all of one Religion? Ro. Out with it. Ge. Every thing is not to be talked on. Ro. So it seems by your concealment. Urs. Shall we hear it? Geo. Yes? Signior Thomazo— Urs. What of him? Geo. There's a gentleman, and you talk of a gentleman. Urs. What of Thomazo? now am I longing. Geo. I heard, as I came hither— Vrs. What? Ro. Let us hear too. Urs. What? be brief. Geo. That he is to lose his head Mistress— Urs. Now a thousand blisters upon that tongue. Geo. But you do not know for what, mistress there's it, You are so angry still at half a business. Urs. For what is he to suffer? oh my heart! Geo. For nothing but high treason. Ro. How? Geo. You ha' not patience, to hear a story out. Ro High treason said he? that's a shrewd business. Urs. Thomazo lose his head? Ro. So it seems. Urs. Better thy generation were headless. Geo. I told you but in good will, because I knew You loved him. I ha' done. Exit. Urs. Passion O my dear heart! I'll to the Duke myself, and beg his pardon. Ro. You'll make yourself a party in the treason, will you? You'll beg his pardon, you'll beg a halter, And sooner 'twill be granted. Urs. Giovanni, Sweet Giovanni, there's a sunshine word, Dear child go with us. Ro. Us? dost think I'll go And run my head into the hemp? Vrs. Best honeysuckle! One word ohine will strike the pardon dead. Gio. I'd rather go a pilgrimage. Urs. Thou shalt go a pilgrimage, another time To the world's end, I charge thee on my blessing, And husband you must go too. Ro. No, no not I. I thank you Ursula, I'll not have my foot Nor hand in any treason. Urs. Is it so much to kneel? you shall say nothing. Unless you please, leave all the talk to me, Ro. I won't go, though the Duke send for me. Urs. How? that's a piece a treason. Ro. So, if I go not, she'll betray me too; well Giovanni shall go too, Where is he? Vrs. Let me alone to conjure him. Shall we go presently, delays are dangerous. The rascal George is gone too, all forsake me In my distress. Ro. What will you say Ursula, When you come there; what will the Dukes think on you? Or who shall suffer for your impudence? And what? that is considerable, I have No mind to go again. Vrs. Then I'll spoil the Garden, Break up the hedges, and deface the works Your darling Giovanni made; I'll let in A regiment of swine, and all their Officers To undermine the Castle he made last, And fortified with Cannon, though I die for't. Ro. More treason, well I will go, but I hope You won't trudge this evening, if we must Resolve upon't, let us do things discreetly. Vrs. That was well said, nay, I am for discretion For all my haste. Ro. I think it most convenient To wait his business, coming forth his Chamber Tomorrow morning Ursula, and then let Good nature's work, to nights no time, We must consult our Pillows; what to say; And how to place our words. Vrs. Now 'tis my best Pigeon, let's home instantly. Ro. A sober pace goes far, not too fast Ursula, Remembering the Proverb, and what follows; We should march slow to save me from the gallows. Exit. Enter Cornari with a Pistol and a rapier. Florelli. Cor. You have had your time of pleasure, can you pray? Flo. Pray, what do you mean Signior. Cor. The Lady whom you have enjoyed, commanded I should present one of these two, or both In token of her gratitude. Flo. This cannot Be earnest sir. Cor. These are the Jewels Which you must wear sir next your heart: how d'ye Affect the lustre of this toy? 'tis bright, But here's a thing will sparkle. Flo. I am lost. Is this the promise of my safety? Cor. Yes, This will secure all, thou dull islander, 'Cause you can dance, and vault upon a hobby-horse, d'ye think to mount madonnas here, and not Pay for the sweet Career. Fool, to thy prayers, For when these messengers salute thy heart, Thy soul shall find, I'm an Italian, And won't trust a life to him, whose tongue Commands my honour. Flo. Art a Christian? Cor. As much as comes to a Venetians faith, That believes no man is more to fit die Than he, that has been capering with my wife. Flo. Ye cannot fir forget I was betrayed, Awake thy conscience, and let that answer I have obeyed a dire necessity, And was brought hither by a stratagem. Cor. 'Tis all one Signior; I presume you gave Consent to the dear matter of delight, Which is not held convenient you should talk of. Flo. Hold. Cor. Hope not to breathe ten minutes, gather up Those thoughts you would have wait upon you to Another world. Flo. Then 'tis high time to think Of other matters, though you have cruelly Resolved there is no safety for your fame, To let me still be numbered with the living. (Which if your scattered reason were collected, I could refute,) but I'll not hope it now,) Since most ignobly 'gainst the rules of honour, And faith already forfeit, you will make This undefenced pile your sacrifice, Yet do not kill me twice. Cor. Twice? Flo. Such a rage Were infinite; practise not cruelty Upon my second life, by murdering my Eternity, allow to my last breath, Leave to discharge the weight of many sins Into the bosom of some confessor. Cor. This may be granted, 'tis not much unreasonable. Flo. Your charity will think it fit to allow Some minutes to collect myself. Cor. To show My design has no malice in't, I'll do Your soul that office, though our bodies must not Enjoy this air together many hours. I'll send one to you. Exit. Flo. The innocence of a Saint, Would not secure his life from an Italian When his revenge is fixed. In what black hour Did I salute the world, that I am thrown Upon so hard a fate? it is not fit To expostulate with heaven, or I could say Something in my defence, (as I am man) To keep this mighty rock from falling on me, My tutelar Angel be at counsel with My thoughts, and if there be a path of safety Direct my trembling steps to find, and taste it. Enter Cornari in a friar's habit. Has kept his word, and 'tis no time to trifle, As you're a Priest, and by that sacred order And scapular you wear, not only hear me But use your pious art to save from ruin A man condemned for that which heaven and you Call virtue, for not doing a black deed Would damn three souls at once, & if your power Cannot prevail for mercy to my life, I challenge you when I am dead, to be A witness of my innocence. Cor. This has No shape of a confession. Flo. Nor do I Under that holy seal discourse a story, Yet Father I must throw myself upon Your Charity. Know therefore I am betrayed, And by the plot of him that owes this Palace (Whose name is never like to meet my knowledge) Snatched up, one fatal evening, and forced hither By some dark ministers he had employed (I know not which way) to this fatal chamber. I shudder but to name what impious act Against his own, and his dear lady's honour He had designed for me; Her chaster soul Should have been stained, in his distrust of heaven, To bless him with an heir, and her white treasure, By me a stranger rifled, had not providence. Chained up our blood, so that the hours he gave To serve his black ambition, and our lust, We only spent in prayers for his conversion. Cor. Ha. Flo. This yet he knows not, and it is not safe To appear in our own virtue, since the justice We did our peace, in crossing his expectance May improve his rage to both our ruins. This Sad story frights you, there is horror in't, But 'tis an hour, the last, without some miracle To rescue me (a man disarmed) from violence, Nor dare I mock heaven now, or hang upon My soul the burden of a lie, when 'tis Taking her last eternal flight, It is not A fear to die afflicts me, with my faith And innocence about me; I have looked Death in the face, and be it thought no boast To say, I have taught others by example To march up to the ugliest face of danger. But to die thus dishonourably, to be Sent out o'th' world i'th' dark, without a name Or any account to those, to whom I owe My blood, and birth? persons that carry names Of honour in my Country? This doth stagger me To quit my life, and may excuse my address To you, who have Authority from heaven To take his fury off, whom otherwise I expect my violent executioner. I have some tremblings for his Lady, whose Most holy tears, streamed through my soul compassion, And charmed my blood, tears, if he durst have patience Were powerful enough to beg from heaven That blessing which he fondly thinks to hasten. With loss of his eternity. Cor. No more. Exit Conrari hastily, having thrown off the habit Enter again with Claudiana. Forgive me, oh forgive me Claudiana, And if my sin of forcing thy obedience Beyond the rules of honour, and of marriage Have not quite murdered thy affection; Wish me a little life for my repentance. Cl. I joy to hear this from you. Fl. There's work within me, and so deep a sense Of my own shame and sorrow, that I feel My heart already weeping out a bath To make thee white again. Cla. Sir, in what best I understand, I must ask you forgiveness. Cor. Ha mine, for what, betraying thee to darkness? Cla. For disobeying your command. Cor. Thou didst The impious act by my design, which takes Thy guilt away, and spreads the leprosy Upon myself. Cla. Although you kill me sir, I must remove the cloud, and let you see Me as I am, not changed from my first innocence. Cor. Possible? Cl. Most easy, where there is A chaste resolve, and I must tell you sir, Although I wanted courage to oppose Your passion, when your reason, and religion Were under violence of your will, my heart Resolved to try my own defence, and rather Than yield myself a shameful spoil to lust, By my own death to quit my name from scandal; But providence determined better for me, And made me worth a stranger's piety, Whom your choice meant the ruin of my honour; If this want entertainment in your faith, 'Tis peace to my poor heart that I have many White witnesses in Heaven. Cor. You have done no feats then? My wife is chaste. Flo. I cannot sir engage My last breath to a nobler truth. Cor. 'Tis so— Ex. Cla. You may withdraw Claudiana; by what Has been expressed, though I am satisfied, You are not guilty in the fact, as I Expected, 'tis not safe, when I consider My own fame in the story, that you live sir. I must not trust you longer with a secret That by my tameness may hereafter spread The infamy abroad: there's no avoiding— Flo. Then I must die. Cor. Perhaps you have some hope This engine may deceive me, and my fortune Not coming better armed, give you the advantage To use your strength, upon my single person! I know you are active, but I'll make sure work. Ex. Flo. Till now I did not reach the precipice. My heart would mutiny, but my hands are naked, And can do nothing. Enter Cornari with Bravoes armed. A knot of murderers! arm me with a sword, And let me die fighting against you all. I'll say you're noble hangmen, and not throw One curse among you. Cor. I've one word to say sir. Let none approach, The fatal doom I threatened is reversed; Throw off your wonder, and believe you may Live long, if not in Venice, and your safety Is more confirmed at Distance, you are noble, An honour to your nation. Here is gold, I know not how you may be furnished sir For travel hence, bills of exchange may fail. These will defray a present charge; betray No wonder, take it. Flo. I'll accept your bounty, And will not ask to whom I owe all this, Forgive me that. I thought you not so honourable. So when you please, I'll take my leave. Cor. Not yet. By such attendants ss you came to me, I have provided sir for your departure. Your duties gentlemen. You know my purpose. The Bravoes blind him, and bind him as before. Exeunt. Enter Claudiana. Cor. Resume thy place within my soul Claudiana, When I have done my sorrow for what's passed we'll smile, and kiss for ever. Exeunt. Enter a Servant. Ser. A letter sir. Cor. From whence? Ser. Your Nephew now a Prisoner. Cor. Let him rot, and give 'em back the paperkite. Ser. The messenger is gone. Cor. Then he expects no answer. [Cor. ready] Cla. You may read it. Cor. Sir, I send not to you for relief, nor to Mediate my pardon. I have not lived after The rate to deserve your bread to feed me, Nor your breath to save me. I only beg That you would put me into your prayers, And forgiveness, and believe, I do not wish life, But to redeem myself from past impieties, And satisfy by a repentance the dishonours Have been done to you, by the worst of men. Malipiero. This is not his usual style. Cla. This miracle may be. Cor. I do want faith. Cla. And sent a blessing to reward our penitence. Heaven has a spacious charity. Cor. Thou art all goodness. Ex. Enter the Bravoes, they lay him down, and exeunt Florelli recovers. Flo. Sure this is gold. Enter 3. gentlemen. Omnes. Florelli. Flo. The same. 1. Thy looks are wild. 2. Where in the name of wonder hast thou been. Flo. I am dropped from the Moon. 3. The Moon. Flo. I was snatched up in a whirlwind, And dined and supped at Cynthia's own table, Where I drank all your healths in Nectar gentlemen, Do ye want money? if you have a mind To return viceroys, let's take shipping instantly. 1. And whither then? Flo. For new discoveries, A cloud will take us up at Sea. 2. 'Tis morning. Flo. To drink, and then aboard, no matter whither I'll keep this for a monument. 3. That bag? Flo. Do not profane it, 'twas Endymion's pillow Stuffed with horn shavings of the Moon, it had The virtue when she clapped it o'er my head To bring me thence invisible through the air; The moon does moble up herself sometime in't. Where she will show a quarter face, and was The first that wore a black bag. 1. But dost hear? Flo. No inquisitions if you will leave Venice. Let's drink and spoon away with the next vessel. A hundred leagues hence, I may tell you wonders. Here is a chime to make Ring Oberon Queen Mab, and all her fairies turn o'th' toe boys. 2. he's mad I think. Exeunt. Enter Ursula, Roberto, Giovanni. Vrs. I could not sleep all this night for dreaming, O'my poor suckling. Ro. peace I say and wait In silence Ursula. Gio. You may excuse me yet. I would not see his excellence. Vrs. 'Tis not my meaning boy, thou shouldst appear Unless there be necessity, you may stay, i'th' next Chamber. Enter a Courtier. Vrs. I beseech you Signior, is this grace coming forth. Cor. Not yet. Vrs. I have an humble suit, I must deliver A paper to his graces own hand, I hope his grace can read. Ex. Cl. Ro. Why how now bagpiper. Vrs. Nay, there's no harm in't what if he can, You will be talking, did not I say I would speak all myself. Ro. But Urs. what do you think now will become on's When you have told your tale, though I am innocent. It will be no great credit, nor much comfort To see you whipped my Ursula, I would Be sorry for my part to peep through a Pillory And have an even reckoning with my ears, Having no more hair to keep warm, and hide The poor concavities. Vrs. Never fear it husband. Ro. I will so curse you Ursula, and once A day, bind your body to a pear tree, And thrash your haunches till you stink again; For ought I know thou hast committed treason, Look to't, and bring me off with all my quarters If I be maimed or cropped, I'll flay thee Ursula, And stuff thy skin with straw, and hang thee up To keep the fruit from Crows, and after burn it. To kill the Caterpillars, come, be wise in time, And let Thomazo quietly be hanged, Or headed yet, and talk no more, he is But one, and has a young neck to endure it. We are old, and sha'not show with half the grace Without our heads, 'twill be a goodly sight To see our faces grin upon two poles, To tell the gaping world how we came thither To perch, and stink in unity, be wise, And leave Thomazo to the Law. Vrs. Can you be so uncharitable, oh Tyrant! Enter Duke, Marino. May it please your excellence, my husband and myself. Ro. She has put me in already. Vrs. Humbly beseech a pardon for our son. Du. Your son Giovanni, where is he? Vrs. He waits in the next Chamber. Du. Call him in. What is the fact? It must be an offence next treason, if we Deny him pardon. Ro. I fear 'tis much about the matter. Du. What is the fact? Enter Giovanni. Vr. We do beseech you grant a pardon first, And than you shall know all. Du. That were preposterous justice. Why dost thou kneel Giovanni? Gio. To beg your mercy sir To him, for whom my mother kneels Du. She asks thy pardon. Gio. Mine? Let me offend first. Du. he's innocent. Vr. No matter what he says, my husband knows it. Ro. she'll make sure of me. Vr. And if your highness will but grant the pardon, Your grace shall not repent, but thank me for The best discovery; I'll not bribe your excellence, But I will give you for it, what you'll hold As precious as your Dukedom. Du. The old woman Raves, you had best send her to the house Of the insani. Ro. So she's to be whipped already, Du. What do you say Roberto! Ro. I say nothing, But that I think my wife will hardly mend upon't. Du. Upon what? Ro. On whipping, if it like your highness, She cannot feel those small corrections. I have tawed hunting Poles, and hemp upon her, And yet could do no good. Ur. Let not your grace mind him, give me a pardon, And if I do not make good all my promise, You shall hang my husband, and flay me alive. Du. What's that paper? Ro. Ge't him, thou shouldst have done this afore. I am prepared, more bone and flesh upon me If the business come to hanging, were a courtesy. Urs. Nay 'tis there in black and white, you'll find it. Giovanni is your son, that was the Gardener, And he that is in prison poor Thomazo My lawfully begotten. Du. Changed in their infancy. Urs. And since concealed out of ambition To see my own a great man. Ro. I feel the knot under my ear. Vr. I durst not trust my husband. Ro. That was not much amiss. Vrs. He has not wit enough to keep my secrets. Ro. Oh what a blessing has that man whose wife Knows when to hold her peace. Mar. Sir, if we may compare their tracts of life, I shall believe your nobleness lived there In Giovanni, not suppressed in poverty, And their rude course condition, notwithstanding The helps of Education, which seldom Do correct nature in Thomazo's low And abject spirit. Du. I'm too full, I must Disperse my swelling joys or be dissolved, Summon our friends, invite Bellaura hither. Art thou my son? Gio. I would I were so blessed. jowed you duty sir before, and now My knees incline with double force to humble The doubtful Giovanni. Du. Let that name Be lost, take all my blessings in Thomazo. Vrs. What think you of this Roberto. Ro. Why? I think The Duke is mad, and when he finds his wits he'll hang us both yet. Du. Now I find the reason. And secret of my nature: but tell me What after so long silence, made you now Open the cloud that had concealed my son? Ro. I know not sir— now Ursula. Vr. The weakness of a woman, and a mother That would be loath to see her natural child Die like a bird upon a bough for treason, Nature will work, a mother is a mother, And your son, by the opening of this riddle Restored, I hope all shall be well again. Ro. Would I were fair washed, yet out of my pickle. Vr. What think you now? Ro. I wish, I wish I could not think. Enter Senators, Cornari. Cor. We hear of wonders sir. Du. This is my son. Cor. With our most glad embraces let us hold you. Gio. Ever a servant to your gravities. Ro. The sky clears up. Enter Bellaura, Marino. Du. Bellaura, now receive not Giovanni, But Contarini's son my dear Thomazo. Bel. My heart hath wings to meet him. Tho. Oh my happiness! Du. Pause a little. Ro. I melt again Ursula, the Duke points at us, And carries fireworks in his eyes, Du. Though we did grant a pardon for your son, You are subject to the censure of our laws For this imposture. Ro. I knew't would come, now tell-tale, will you beg The favour we may hang till we be dead? Sweet Giovanni Thomazo speak for us, Not guilty my Lord, I am not guilty, Spare me, and let my wife be burned or hanged, Or drowned, or any thing you shall think fit, You shall find me reasonable, Who shall beg our pardon? Vr. Mercy oh mercy. Tho. Let me beseech you for their pardon sir. They always used me civilly. Bel. Let me join. Sen. And all of us, this is a day of triumph. Du. It shall be so. Ro. A Jubilee, a Jubilee, here comes Thomazo, I shall speak treason presently. Vrs. Now heaven preserve your sweet graces. Enter Thomazo, Malipiero. Gio. Mercy, oh mercy, my indulgent father. Vrs. Art thou come boy? Gio. Boy? stand away good woman. Vrs. I have procured thy pardon, marry have I child. Gio. I would 'twere true, thou wert ever a loving Crone. Ro. You may believe her son. Gio. Son, the old fellow's mad. Urs. I say thou art pardoned, You must kneel to me now, and this good Old man, and ask us blessing. Mar. Your name is proved Giovanni now, the Duke Has found another son. Gio. What shall become of me? Du. You shall be only punished to return, And dig as he hath done, and change your name To Giovanni, nature was not willing You should forget your trade, where's my Thomazo? Gio. Are you my father? Ro. So my wife assures me. Gio. Are you my mother? Vrs. I my dear child. Gio. And you Signior Thomazo, that was I? Tho. And you Giovanni with the inside outward Gio. And must I be a Gardener? I am glad on't. Pray give me a couple of blessings, and a spade, And fico for this frippery. I'll thank My destiny that has yet kept my thread To a better use than hanging. Corn. Let nothing Of punishment profane this day, I must Implore your mercy upon this young man, Whose future life may recompense his past Impieties, and make him serviceable To honour and good men. Du. You show with charity, If I have heard a truth in some sad stories, he's yours and pardoned. Ma. You're a miracle Of goodness, 'tis too much to look upon, Whom I have with such impudence offended. Command me sir abroad until by some Years well employed, a penance for my crimes I may be thought one worthy to be owned Your Kinsman. Du. Again, welcome my Thomazo, My dearest pledge, till now I was no father; In him, the want of hope my thoughts oppressed, In thee my fortunes, and my name are blessed. Exeunt. FINIS.