_Luc._ Indeed he surpasses _Damon_ far;

But I’ad forgot my self, you are the Prince’s Wife;

He said you should be kneel’d to, and ador’d,

And never look’d on but on Holy-days:

That many Maids should wait upon your call,

And strow fine Flowers for you to tread upon.

Musick and Love should daily fill your Ears,

And all your other Senses should be ravish’d

With wonders of each kind great as your Beauty.

_Clo._ _Lucia_, methinks you have learnt to speak fine things.

_Luc._ I have a thousand more I’ve heard him say;

Oh, I could listen a whole Night to hear him talk:

But hark, I hear a Noise, the House is up,

And must not find us here.

_Clo._ Lock up this Box of Jewels for me.

_Luc._ Oh rare! what, did these come to night?

_Clo._ Yes, yes, away.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Grove.

Enter _Curtius_ and _Pietro_.

_Cur._ I wonder the Prince stays so long;

I do not like these Night-works;

Were I not confident of _Cloris’s_ Virtue,

--Which shall no more be tempted.

I hear some coming, and hope ‘tis he--

_Pietro_, are the Horses ready? [Exit _Pietro_.

Enter _Frederick_.

_Cur._ Sir, you are welcome from _Cloris’s_ Arms.

_Fred._ With much ado, I am got loose from those fair

Fetters, but not from those of her Beauty;

By these she still inflames me,

In spite of all my humours of Inconstancy;

So soft and young, so fair and innocent,

So full of Air, and yet of Languishment;

So much of Nature in her Heart and Eyes,

So timorous and so kind without disguise:

Such untaught Sweets in every part do move,

As ‘gainst my Reason does compel my Love;

Such artless smiles, look so unorder’d too,

Gains more than all the charms of Courts can do;

From Head to Foot, a spotless Statue seems,

As Art, not Nature, had compos’d her Limbs;

So white, and so unblemish’d, oh _Curtius_!

I’m ravisht beyond Sense when I but think on’t;

How much more must my Surprize be,

When I behold these Wonders.

_Cur._ And have you seen her, Sir, in all this Beauty?

Oh Hell! [Aside.

_Fred._ _Curtius_, I will not hide my Soul from thee;

I have seen all the marvels of that Maid.

_Cur._ My Soul, learn now the Art of being disguis’d; [Aside.

--’Tis much, my Lord, that one

Bred in such simple Innocence,

Should learn so soon so much of Confidence:

Pray, Sir, what Arts and Cunning do you use?

_Fred._ Faith, time and importunity refuse no body.

_Cur._ Is that the way? had you no other Aids?

Made you no promise to her, Sir, of Marriage?

_Fred._ Oh, yes, in abundance, that’s your only bait,

And though they cannot hope we will perform it,

Yet it secures their Honour and my Pleasure.

_Cur._ Then, Sir, you have enjoy’d her?

_Fred._ Oh, yes, and gather’d Sweets

Would make an Anchoret neglect his Vow,

And think he had mistook his way to future bliss,

Which only can be found in such Embraces;

‘Twas hard to gain, but, _Curtius_, when once Victor,

Oh, how the joys of Conquest did enslave me!

_Cur._ But, Sir, methinks ‘tis much that she should yield,

With only a bare promise that you’d marry her.

_Fred._ Yes, there was something more--but--

_Cur._ But, what, Sir, you are not married.

_Fred._ Faith, yes, I’ve made a Vow,

And that you know would go as far with any other Man.

_Cur._ But she it seems forgot you were the Prince?

_Fred._ No, she urg’d that too,

And left no Arguments unus’d

Might make me sensible of what I did;

But I was fixt, and overcame them all,

Repeating still my Vows and Passions for her,

Till in the presence of her Maid and Heaven

We solemnly contracted.

_Cur._ But, Sir, by your permission, was it well?

_Fred._ What wouldst thou have him do

That’s all on fire, and dies for an Enjoyment?

_Cur._ But having gain’d it, do you love her still?

_Fred._ Yes, yes, extremely,

And would be constant to the Vows I’ve made,

Were I a Man, as thou art of thy self;

But with the aid of Counsels I must chuse,

And what my Soul adores I must refuse.

_Cur._ This Passion, Sir, Possession will destroy,

And you’l love less, the more you do enjoy.

_Fred._ That’s all my hope of cure; I’ll ply that game,

And slacken by degrees th’ unworthy flame.

_Cur._ Methinks, my Lord, it had more generous been

To’ve check’d that flame when first it did begin,

E’er you the slighted Victory had won,

And a poor harmless Virgin quite undone:

And what is worse, you’ve made her love you too.

_Fred._ Faith, that’s the greater mischief of the two;

I know to such nice virtuous Souls as thine,

My juster Inclination is a Crime:

But I love Pleasures which thou canst not prize,

Beyond dull gazing on thy Mistress Eyes,

The lovely Object which enslaves my Heart,

Must yet more certain Cures than Smiles impart:

--And you on _Laura_ have the same design.

_Cur._ Yes, Sir, when justify’d by Laws Divine.

_Fred._ Divine! a pleasant Warrant for your Sin,

Which being not made, we ne’er had guilty been.

But now we speak of _Laura_,

Prithee, when is’t that I shall see that Beauty?

_Cur._ Never, I hope. [Aside.] I know not, Sir,

Her Father still is cruel, and denies me,

What she and I have long made suit in vain for:

But, Sir, your Interest might prevail with him,

When he shall know I’m one whom you esteem;

He will allow my flame, and my address,

He whom you favour cannot doubt Success.

_Fred._ This day I will begin to serve thee in it.

_Cur._ Sir, ‘twill be difficult to get access to her,

Her Father is an humorous old Man,

And has his fits of Pride and Kindness too.

_Fred._ Well, after Dinner I will try my Power,

And will not quit his Lodgings till I’ve won him.

_Cur._ I humbly thank you, Sir.

_Fred._ Come let us haste, the Day comes on apace. [Ex. _Fred._

_Cur._ I’ll wait upon you, Sir.

Oh _Cloris_, thou’rt undone, false amorous Girl;

Was it for this I bred thee in obscurity,

Without permitting thee to know what Courts meant,

Lest their too powerful Temptation

Might have betray’d thy Soul?

Not suffering thee to know thy Name or Parents,

Thinking an humble Life might have secur’d thy Virtue:

And yet I should not hate thee for this Sin,

Since thou art bred in so much Innocence,

Thou couldst not dream of Falsity in Men:

Oh, that it were permitted me to kill this Prince,

This false perfidious Prince;

And yet he knows not that he has abus’d me.

When did I know a Man of so much Virtue,

That would refuse so sweet and soft a Maid?

--No, he is just and good, only too much misled

By Youth and Flattery;

And one to whom my Soul is ty’d by Friendship;

--Yet what’s a Friend, a name above a Sister?

Is not her Honour mine?

And shall not I revenge the loss of it?

It is but common Justice.

But first I’ll try all gentle means I may,

And let him know that _Cloris_ is my Sister;

And if he then persevere in his Crime,

I’ll lay my Interest and my Duty by,

And punish him, or with my Honour die. [Exit.

SCENE III. The Apartment of _Antonio_.

Enter _Lorenzo_ pulling in of _Isabella_.

_Lor._ Nay, nay, _Isabella_, there’s no avoiding me now,

You and I must come to a parley.

Pray what’s the reason

You took no notice of me,

When I came with so civil an address too?

_Isab._ Can you ever think to thrive in an Amour,

When you take notice of your Mistress,

Or any that belongs to her, in publick,

And when she’s a married Woman too?

_Lor._ Good _Isabella_, the loser may have leave to speak,

I am sure it has been a plaguy dear Amour to me.

_Isab._ Let me hear you name that again,

And you shall miss of my Assistance.

_Lor._ Nay, do but hear me a little;

I vow ‘tis the strangest thing in the World,

A Man must part from so much Money as I have done,

And be confin’d to Signs and Grimaces only,

To declare his Mind in:

If a Man has a Tongue, let him exercise it, I say,

As long as he pays for speaking.

_Isab._ Again with your paying for’t? I see you are not

To be reclaim’d; farewel--

_Lor._ Stay, good _Isabella_, stay,

And thou shalt hear not one word of that more,

Though I am soundly urg’d to’t.

_Isab._ Yes, yes, pray count them, do;

I know you long to be at it,

And I am sure you will find you are in Arrears to us.

_Lor._ Say you so, I am not of that opinion: but well,

--Let me see--here ‘tis, here ‘tis--

My Bill of Charge for courting _Clarina_.

[Draws out his Table Book, and reads.

_Isab._ And here’s mine for the returns that have been

Made you; begin, begin. [Pulls out her Book.

_Lor._ _Item_, two hundred Crowns to _Isabella_ for undertaking.

_Isab_. _Item_, I have promis’d _Lorenzo_ to serve him

In his Amour with all Fidelity.

_Lor._ Well, I own that Debt paid, if you keep

Your word--out with it then-- [He crosses that out.

_Item_, two thousand Crowns in a Bracelet for _Clarina_;

What say you to that now, _Isabella_?

_Isab._ _Item_, the day after they were presented,

She saluted you with a smile at the Chappel.

_Lor._ And dost thou think it was not dearly bought?

_Isab._ No Man in _Florence_ should have had it

A Souce cheaper.

_Lor._ Say you so, _Isabella_? out with it then. [Crosses it out.

_Item_, one hundred more to thee for presenting them.

_Isab._ Which I did with six lyes in your Commendation,

Worth ten Pistoles a piece for the exactness of a Lye;

Write there indebted to me--

_Lor._ Nay then thou dost deserve it:

Rest due to _Isabella_. [Writes.

_Item_, Innumerable Serenades, Night-walks, Affronts

And Fears; and lastly, to the Poets for Songs, and the like.

_Isab._ All which was recompensed in the excessive

Laughing on you that Day you praunc’d under our

Window on Horse-back, when you made such a

Deal of Capriol and Curvet.

_Lor._ Yes, where I ventur’d my Neck to shew my

Activity, and therefore may be well accompted

Amongst my Losses.

_Isab._ Then she receiv’d your Presents,

Suffer’d your Serenades, without sending her Foot-men

To break your Pate with the Fiddles.

_Lor._ Indeed that was one of the best Signs;

For I have been a great Sufferer in that kind

Upon the like occasions: but dost thou think

In Conscience that this should satisfy?

_Isab._ Yes, any reasonable Man in the World, for the

First Month at least; and yet you are still up

With your Expences, as if a Lady of her Quality

Were to be gain’d without them.

--Let me hear of your Expences more, and I’ll--

_Lor._ Oh sweet _Isabella_! upon my Knees

I beg thou wilt take no fatal Resolution;

For I protest, as I am a Man of Honour,

And adore thy Sex, thou shalt only see,

Not hear of my Expences more;

And for a small testimony of it, here take this;

There’s twenty Pistoles upon Reputation. [Gives her Money.

_Isab._ Fy, fy, ‘tis not brave, nor generous to name

The Sum, you should have slid it into my Coat,

Without saying what you had done.

_Lor._ What signifies that, mun, as long as ‘tis current,

And you have it sure?

_Isab._ Well, leave the management of your Affairs to me--

What shall we do? here’s _Alberto_.

Enter _Alberto_.

_Lor._ Well, who can help it? I cannot walk invisible.

_Alb._ _Lorenzo_, what, making Love to _Isabella_?

_Lor._ She’l serve, my Lord, for want of a better.

_Isab._ That’s but a coarse Complement.

_Lor._ ‘Twill serve to disguise a Truth however. [Aside to her.

[Ex. _Isab._

Faith, I’ll tell you, Sir, ‘twas such another Damsel

As this, that sav’d me five hundred Pound once upon a time;

And I have lov’d the whole Tribe of Waiting-women

The better ever since.

_Alb._ You have reason; how was it?

_Lor._ Why, look you, Sir,

I had made Love a long time to a Lady;

But she shall be nameless,

Since she was of a quality not to be gain’d under

The aforesaid Sum: well, I brought it,

Came pouder’d and perfum’d, and high in expectation.

_Alb._ Well, Sir.

_Lor._ And she had a very pretty Wench, who was to

Conduct me, and in the dark too;

And, on my Conscience, I e’en fell aboard of her,

And was as well accommodated for my five,

As five Hundred Pounds, and so return’d.

_Alb._ A great defeat to the Lady the while, a my word.

_Lor._ Ay, she smelt the Plot, and made a Vow to follow

The _Italian_ mode for the future;

And be serv’d in Affairs of that kind by none

But an old Woman.

_Alb._ ‘Twas wittily resolv’d.

_Lor._ Are you for the Presence this Morning?

_Alb._ No, I have business here with _Antonio_.

_Lor._ Your Servant, my Lord. [Exit.

_Alb._ I do not like this Fellow’s being here,

The most notorious Pimp and Rascal in _Italy_;

‘Tis a vile shame that such as he should live,

Who have the form and sense of Man about them,

And in their Action Beast;

And that he thrives by too.

Enter _Isabella_.

--_Isabella_, is _Antonio_ stirring?

_Isab._ He is, please your Lordship to walk in.

_Alb._ You may tell him I wait here:

For I would avoid all opportunity of seeing _Clarina_. [Aside.

_Isab._ My Lord, you need not stand upon Ceremonies. [Exit _Alberto_.

Enter _Clarina_ and _Ismena_, dress’d like one another in every

thing, laughing and beholding one another.

--Dress’d already! now on my conscience

I know not which is which:

Pray God _Antonio_ be not mistaken at night,

For I’ll be sworn I am by day-light.

_Ism._ Dost think I may pass thus for _Clarina_?

_Isab._ Madam, you are the same to a hair;

Wou’d I might never stir

If I can do any thing but wonder.

_Clar._ But hark, _Isabella_, if thou shou’dst have

Heard amiss, and that thy information should not be good,

Thou hast defeated us of a design,

Wherein we promise our selves no little pleasure.

_Ism._ Yes, I vow, all the Jest is lost if it be so.

_Isab._ I doubt ‘twill be a true Jest on your side. [Aside.

--I warrant you, Madam, my Intelligence is good;

And to assure you of what I have said,

I dare undertake you shall hear the same over again:

For just now _Alberto_ is come to visit my Lord,

Who I am sure will entertain him with no other stories,

But those of his Jealousy,

And to persuade him to court you.

_Clar._ ‘Tis strange, since he set him that Task so long ago,

He would not begin before.

_Ism._ Nay, pray God he begin now;

Sister, he has hitherto took me for thee,

And sometimes his Eyes give me hope of a secret

Fire within, but ‘twill not out;

And I am so impatient till he declares himself,

That if he do not do it soon,

I shall e’en tell him who I am;

For perhaps the Wife takes off the appetite,

Which would sharpen upon knowledge of the Virgin.

_Clar._ What then, you’ll have all the sport to your self?

--But, _Ismena_, remember my little Revenge on _Antonio_

Must accompany your Love to _Alberto_. [Aside.

_Isab._ But why this resemblance?

For, Madam, since he never saw you,

And takes _Ismena_ to be you;

Might you not still pass so, without this likeness?

_Clar._ Didst thou not say _Antonio_ left the Court

And City, on purpose to give _Alberto_ the more freedom

To Court me?--Whilst he was away, I needed but retire,

And _Ismena_ appear, and ‘twould suffice;

But now he is return’d,

He may chance to see them together, _en passant_, or so,

And this dress will abuse him as well as _Alberto_;

For without that, this Plot of ours signifies little.

_Ism._ Ay, truly, for my part, I have no other design

Than doing my Sister a service.

_Isab._ The Plot is very likely to thrive I see,

Since you are so good at dissembling.

_Ism._ Fie, _Isabella_, what an ill opinion you have of me?

--But, Sister, ‘tis much _Alberto_ being so intimate

With _Antonio_, should never see you all this whole

Six Months of your being married.

_Clar._ Had you been bred any where

But in a Monastery, you would have known

‘Tis not the custom here for Men to expose their

Wives to the view of any.

_Isab._ I hear them coming, let’s away,

And pray listen to the Truths I have already told you.

[They retire.

SCENE IV. The Same.

Enter _Antonio_ and _Alberto_. _Clarina_ and _Ismena_ listen.

_Alb._ Once more, _Antonio_, welcome back to Court.

_Ant._ Oh my dear Friend, I long’d for thy Embraces;

--How goes the Game I left with thee to play?

What says my Wife, my beautiful _Clarina_?

_Alb._ _Clarina!_--

_Ant._ Yes, _Clarina_, have you not seen her yet?

I left the Court on purpose, for ‘twas not handsome

For me to introduce you,

Lest she had look’d upon’t as some design.

_Alb._ Seen her--yes--

_Ant._ And I conjur’d her too, to give you freedoms

Even equal to _Antonio_;

As far as I durst press with modesty,

And with pretence of Friendship;

And have you not attempted her?

_Alb._ Yes--but ‘tis in vain.

_Ant._ Oh villanous Dissembler! [Aside.

_Alb._ She’s cruel, strangely cruel,

And I’m resolv’d to give the Courtship o’er.

_Ant._ Sure, Friend, thou hast not us’d thy wonted power.

_Alb._ Yes, all that I know I’m master of, I us’d.

_Ant._ But didst thou urge it home? did she not see

Thy Words and Actions did not well agree?

Canst thou dissemble well? didst cry and melt,

As if the pain you but express’d, you felt?

Didst kneel, and swear, and urge thy Quality,

Heightning it too with some Disgrace on me?

And didst thou too assail her feeble side?

For the best bait to Woman is her Pride;

Which some mis-call her Guard:

Didst thou present her with the set of Jewels?

For Women naturally are more inclin’d

To Avarice, than Men: pray tell me, Friend.

--Vile Woman! did she take them--

_Alb._ I never ask’d her that.

_Clar._ Poor _Antonio_, how I pity him. [Aside.

_Ant._ No!

_Alb_. No, I’ve done enough to satisfy thy Jealousy.

Here, take your set of Jewels back again; [Gives a Box.

Upon my Life _Clarina_ is all Chastity.

_Ant._ I were the happiest Man on Earth, were this but true;

But what are single Courtships?--give her these,

Which will assist thy Tongue to win her Heart;

And that once got, the other soon will follow;

There’s far more Women won by Gold than Industry:

Try that, my dear _Alberto_,

And save thy Eyes the trouble of dissembling.

_Alb._ Content thee here, and do not tempt thy Fate,

I have regard unto thy Honour, Friend;

And should she yield, as Women are no Gods,

Where were thy future Joys?

What is’t could make thee happy, or restore

That true Contentment which thou hadst before?

Alas! thou tempt’st me too, for I am frail,

And Love above my Friendship may prevail.

_Ant._ This will not do;

No, as thou art my Friend, and lov’st my Honour,

Pursue _Clarina_ further;

Rally afresh, and charge her with this Present,

Disturb her every night with Serenades;

Make Love-Songs to her, and then sing them too;

Thou hast a Voice enough alone to conquer.

_Alb._ Fool, _Antonio_! [Aside.

_Ant._ Come, wilt thou undertake it once again?

_Alb._ I would not.

_Ant._ I am resolv’d to get this tryal made,

And if thou dost refuse thy Amity,

I’ll try a Friend more willing, though less faithful;

With thee my Wife and Honour too are safe,

For should she yield, and I by that were lost,

‘Twere yet some ease,

That none but thou wert witness to’t.

_Alb._ Well, if it must be done, I’ad rather do’t,

Than you should be expos’d to th’ scorn of others.

_Ant._ Spoke like my noble Friend;

Come dine with her to day, for I must leave you,

And give you all the opportunity

A real Lover wishes with a Mistress.

_Ism._ So we have heard enough.

[Ex. _Clar._ and _Ism._

_Ant._ Oh, were _Clarina_ chaste, as on my Soul

I cannot doubt, more than that I believe

All Womankind may be seduc’d from Virtue;

I were the Man of all the World most bless’d

In such a Wife, and such a Friend as thou.

_Alb._ But what if I prevail, _Antonio_?

_Ant._ Then I’ll renounce my faith in Womankind,

And place my satisfaction in thy Amity.

--But see, she comes, I’ll leave you to your task.

Enter _Ismena_ and _Isabella_.

_Ism._ Antonio not yet gone--

This must secure me. [Pulls down her Veil.

_Ant._ _Clarina_, why thus clouded?

_Isab._ I see he has most happily mistaken.

_Ism._ I was going, Sir, to visit _Laura_--

_Ant._ You must not go, I’ve business to the Duke,

And you must entertain my Friend till my return;

It is a freedom not usual here amongst Ladies,

But I will have it so;

Whom I esteem, I’ll have you do so too.

_Ism._ Sir, I am all obedience.

[Exit _Antonio_, she pulls off her Veil; _Alberto_ salutes her

with seeming lowness.

_Alb._ Oh, how my Soul’s divided

Between my Adoration and my Amity! [Aside.

Friendship, thou sacred band, hold fast thy Interest;

For yonder Beauty has a subtle power,

And can undo that knot, which other Arts

Could ne’er invent a way for.

Enter _Antonio_, and listens at the Door.

_Ant._ I’ll see a little how he behaves himself. [Aside.

_Alb._ But she’s _Antonio’s_ Wife; my Friend _Antonio_. [Aside.

A Youth that made an Interest in my Soul,

When I had Language scarce to express my sense of it.

_Ant._ Death! he speaks not to her. [Aside.

_Alb._ So grew we up to Man, and still more fixt;

And shall a gaudy Beauty,

A thing which t’other day I never saw,

Deprive my Heart of that kind Heat,

And place a new and unknown Fire within? [Aside.

_Clarina_, ‘tis unjust.

_Ism._ Sir, did you speak to me?

_Alb._ I have betray’d my self-- [Aside.

Madam, I was saying how unjust it was

_Antonio_ should leave me alone with a Lady,

Being certainly the worst to entertain them in the World.

_Ant._ His Face assures me he speaks of no Love to her now.

_Ism._ Alas, he speaks not to me.

Sure _Isabella_ was mistaken, who told me that he lov’d me.

--_Alberto_, if thou art oblig’d to me, [Aside.

For what I have not yet observ’d in thee,

Oh, do not say my Heart was easily won,

But blame your Eyes, whose forces none can shun.

_Ant._ Not a word, what can he mean by this?

_Ism._ Sir, will you please to sit a while?

_Isab._ Madam, the inner Chamber is much better,

For there he may repose upon the Cushions

Till my Lord’s return; I see he is not well--

--And you are both sick of one Disease. [Aside.

_Alb._ I thank you, here’s more Air,

--And that I need, for I am all on fire, [Aside.

And every Look adds fuel to my flame.

--I must avoid those Eyes, whose Light misguides me:

--Madam, I have some business calls me hence,

And cannot wait my Friend’s return.

_Ism._ _Antonio_, Sir, will think ‘tis my neglect

That drove you hence; pray stay a little longer.

_Alb._ You shall command me, if you can dispense

With so dull Company.

_Ism._ I can with any thing _Antonio_ loves.

_Alb_. Madam, it is a Virtue that becomes you;

For though your Husband should not merit this,

Your Goodness is not less to be admir’d;

But he’s a Man so truly worth your Kindness,

That ‘twere a Sin to doubt

Your Passion for him were not justly paid.

_Ism._ Sir, I believe you, and I hope he thinks

That my opinion of him equals yours;

‘Tis plain he loves me not; [Aside.

Perhaps his Virtue, thinking me _Clarina_,

May hide the real Passion of his Soul.

Oh Love, what dangerous Paths thou mak’st us tread!

_Ant._ Cold, cold as Devotion, oh inhuman Friendship! [Aside.

_Alb._ What shall I do next? I must either be rude,

And say nothing, or speak of Love to her;

And then, my Friend, thou’rt lost should I prevail,

And I’m undone should she not hear my Tale,

Which for the World I would not have her hear;

And yet I fear my Eyes too much declare.

_Ism._ Since he’s in so ill an Humour, let’s leave him,

I’m satisfy’d now that thou’rt mistaken.

[Ex. _Ismena_ and _Isabella_ unseen.

_Alb._ But they shall gaze no more on hers,

Nor stray beyond the limits of a just Salute.

--I will my Honour to my Love prefer,

And my _Antonio_ shall out-rival her.

[Looks about, and misses them.

--Ah, am I left alone! how frail is Man!

That which last Moment I resolv’d upon,

I find my Heart already disapprove,

And grieve her loss; can this be ought but Love?

My Soul’s dissatisfy’d now she is gone,

And yet but now I wish’d to be alone.

--Inform me, Love, who shares the better part,

Friendship, or thee, in my divided Heart. [Offers to go.

Enter _Antonio_, and stays him.

_Ant._ Whither in such haste?

Thou look’st e’en as sad as a Lover repuls’d,

I fear that Fate’s not thine.

_Alb._ Now for a lye to satisfy him. [Aside.

Prithee discharge me of this toil of dissembling,

Of which I grow as weary as she’s of hearing it.

_Ant._ Indeed!

_Alb._ Sure thou hast a design to make her hate me.

_Ant._ Do you think so in earnest, why, was she angry?

_Alb._ Oh! hadst thou seen her pretty blushing Scorn,

Which she would fain have hid,

Thou wouldst have pitied what I made her suffer.

_Ant._ Is’t possible!

And didst present her with the Box of Jewels?

_Alb._ Yes.

_Ant._ And kneel, and cry and swear, and--

_Alb._ All, all.

_Ant._ I hardly gave thee time for so much Courtship,

--But you are sure she was displeased with it?

_Alb._ Extremely.

_Ant._ Enough, _Alberto_; adieu to thee and Friendship.

_Alb._ What mean you?

_Ant._ Ask your own Guilt, it will inform thee best.

_Alb._ Thou canst not think _Clarina_ has abus’d thee.

_Ant._ I do not think she has, nor have you try’d her;

In that you have not only disoblig’d me,

But now you would impose upon my Weakness

--Did I not see how unconcern’d you were,

And hardly paying her a due respect;

And when she even invited thee to speak,

Most rudely thou wert silent?

_Alb._ Be calm, _Antonio_, I confess my error,

And hate that Virtue taught me to deceive thee;

--Here, take my Hand,--

I’ll serve you in good earnest.

_Ant._ And now I do believe thee,

Go--thou shalt lose no time, I must away,

My Soul’s in torment, till I am confirm’d

Of my _Clarina’s_ Virtue;

I do believe thou hast a generous Shame,

For what thou’st said and done to me thy Friend.

For could I doubt thy Love, oh, how ridiculous

This act of mine would seem!

But ‘tis to thee, as to my Soul I come,

Disputing every petty Crime and Doubt.

_Alb._ _Antonio_, if there need an Oath between us--

_Ant._ No, I credit thee; go in,

And prithee dress thy Eyes in all their Charms;

For this uncertainty disturbs me more,

Than if I knew _Clarina_ were a--Whore.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT II.

SCENE I. The Apartment of _Frederick_.

Enter _Frederick_ with a Letter, and _Galliard_.

_Fred._ Not allow me to speak to her, say ye, ‘tis strange;

Didst say it was the Prince that sent thee?

_Gal._ My Lord, I did, but he says, he cares not for

A thousand Princes.

_Fred._ I am resolv’d I will see this Woman;

--Harkye, go back again and say-- [Whispers.

Enter _Lorenzo_ drunk.

_Lor._ Hah, the Prince--he must not see me

In this pickle; for I would not lose my Reputation

Of Wenching for this of Drinking;

And I am sure I cannot be excellent at both,

They are inconsistent.

_Gal._ I shall, my Lord. [Exit.

_Lor._ Your Highness’s humble Servant.

_Fred._ Ha, ha, what, _Lorenzo_ in debauch?

_Lor._ Now my Tongue will betray me:--

Faith, my Lord, I have took six, but am come briskly off;

By this hand, my Lord, I am Cock over five

Stout Rogues too, I can tell you, at this sport.

_Fred._ I did not think thou hadst had that Virtue.

_Lor._ I’ll tell you, Sir, ‘tis necessary those of my

Office and Quality should have more Virtues

Than one to recommend them;

But to tell you truth, for now I am most apt for that,

I was drunk in mere Malice to day.

_Fred._ Malice, against whom, prithee?

_Lor._ Why, why, Sir, the humorous old Fellow,

My Father,

He will not hear reason from me when I am sober.

My Lord, you know _Curtius_ is an honest Fellow,

And one of us too;

My Sister _Laura_ is a good pretty Wench,

He loves her, and she likes him;

And because this testy old Blade has done himself,

Do you think I can bring him to consider?

No, not for my Life, he won’t consider, Sir;

And now am I got drunk to see how that will edify him.

_Fred._ How! is _Laura_, the Mistress of _Curtius_, your Sister?

_Lor._ Yes, marry is she, Sir, at least by the Mother’s side;

And to tell you truth,

We are too good-natur’d to believe

_Salvator_ our Father.

_Fred._ Thy Sister, and Daughter to _Salvator_?

_Lor._ So said my Mother, but she was handsome;

And on my conscience liv’d e’en in such another

Debauch’d World as ‘tis now, let them say

What they will of their primitive Virtue.

_Fred._ May not I see this Sister of thine, _Lorenzo_?

_Lor._ Yes, by _Venus_, shall you, Sir,

An she were my Mother.

_Fred._ But art sure thy Father will permit us?

_Lor._ My Father permit us!

He may do what he will when I am sober,

But being thus fortify’d with potent Wine,

He must yield obedience to my Will.

Why, my Lord, I’ll tell you,

I’ll make him ask me blessing when I am in this

Almighty Power.

_Fred._ And is thy Sister so very fine?

_Lor._ The Girl is well, and if she were not my Sister,

I would give you a more certain Proof of my

Opinion of her;

She has excellent good Hair, fine Teeth,

And good Hands, and the best natur’d Fool--

Come, come, Sir, I’ll bring you to her,

And then I’ll leave you;

For I have a small Affair of Love to dispatch.

_Fred._ This is a freedom that sutes not with the

Humour of an _Italian_.

_Lor._ No, faith, my Lord; I believe my Mother play’d

Foul play with some _Englishman_;

I am so willing to do you a good office to my Sister.

And if by her Humour you become of that opinion too,

I shall hope to render myself more acceptable

To you by that Franchise.

Enter _Galliard_, whispers.

_Fred._ Thou knowest my grateful Temper,

--No matter; here, carry this Letter to _Cloris_,

And make some excuse for my not coming this Evening.

[Gives him a Letter, and goes out with _Lorenzo_.

_Gal._ So, poor Lass, ‘tis a hundred to one if she be not

Lay’d by now, and _Laura_ must succeed her:

Well, even _Frederick_, I see, is but a Man,

But his Youth and Quality will excuse him;

And ‘twill be call’d Gallantry in him,

When in one of us, ‘tis Ill-nature and Inconstancy. [Exit.

SCENE II. _Antonio’s_ House.

Enter _Ismena_ and _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Nay, Madam, ‘tis in vain to deny it;

Do you think I have liv’d to these years,

And cannot interpret cross Arms, imperfect Replies,

Your sudden Weepings, your often Sighing,

Your melancholy Walks, and making Verses too?

And yet I must not say that this is Love.

_Ism._ Art thou so notable a Judge of it?

_Isab._ I should be, or I am a very dull Scholar,

For I have lost the foolish Boy as many Darts,

As any Woman of my age in _Florence_.

_Ism._ Thou hast paid dear for thy knowledge then.

_Isab._ No, the hurt ones did, the other still made good, with very

little

Pain on either side.

_Ism._ I must confess, I think it is not so hard to get

Wounds, as ‘tis to get them cur’d again.

_Isab._ I am not of your opinion, nor ever saw that

Man who had not Faults to Cure,

As well as Charms to kill.

_Ism._ Since thou’rt so good a Judge of Men,

Prithee tell me how thou lik’st _Alberto_.

_Isab._ I knew ‘twould come to this-- [Aside.

Why, well, Madam.

_Ism._ No more than so?

_Isab._ Yes, wondrous well, since I am sure he loves you,

And that indeed raises a Man’s Value.

_Ism._ Thou art deceiv’d, I do not think he loves me.

_Isab._ Madam, you cannot but see a thousand Marks on’t.

_Ism._ Thou hast more Skill than I;

But prithee why does he not tell me so himself?

_Isab._ Oh Madam, whilst he takes you for _Clarina_,

‘Twould shew his disrespect to tell his Love?

But when he knows _Ismena_ is the Object,

He’ll tire you with the wish’d for story.

_Ism._ Ah, thou art a pleasing Flatterer.

Enter _Page_.

_Page._ Madam, _Alberto_ is without.

_Ism._ Tell him I’m indispos’d, and cannot see him now.

_Isab._ Nay, good Madam, see him now by all means,

For I am sure my Lord _Antonio_ is absent on purpose.

--Bid him come in, Boy. [Exit _Page_.

Enter _Alberto_.

_Ism._ _Antonio_, Sir, is not return’d.

_Alb._ Madam, this Visit was not meant to him,

But by a Cause more pressing I am brought,

Such as my Passion, not My Friendship taught;

A Passion which my Sighs have only shewn,

And now beg leave my bashful Tongue may own.

The knowledge, Madam, will not much surprise,

Which you have gain’d already from mine Eyes;

My timorous Heart that way my Tongue would spare,

And tells you of the Flames you’ve kindled there:

‘Tis long I’ve suffered under this Constraint,

Have always suffer’d, but ne’er made Complaint;

And now against my will I must reveal

What Love and my Respect would fain conceal.

_Ism._ What mean you, Sir? what have you seen in me,

That should encourage this temerity?

_Alb._ A world of Beauties, and a world of Charms,

And every Smile and Frown begets new harms;

In vain I strove my Passion to subdue,

Which still increas’d the more I look’d on you;

Nor will my Heart permit me to retire,

But makes my Eyes the convoys to my Fire,

And not one Glance you send is cast away.

_Ism._ Enough, my Lord, have you nought else to say?

The Plot’s betray’d, and can no further go; [Smiles.

The Stratagem’s discover’d to the Foe;

I find _Antonio_ has more Love than Wit,

And I’ll endeavour too to merit it.

_Alb._ What you have said, I do confess is true,

_Antonio_ beg’d I would make love to you;

But, Madam, whilst my heart was unconfin’d,

A thousand ways the Treachery I declin’d--

But now, _Clarina_, by my Life I swear,

It is my own concern that brings me here:

Had he been just to you, I had suppress’d

The Flames your Eyes have kindled in my Breast;

But his Suspicion rais’d my Passion more,

And his Injustice taught me to adore:

But ‘tis a Passion which you may allow,

Since its effects shall never injure you.

_Ism._ You have oblig’d me, Sir, by your Confession,

And I shall own it too at such a rate,

As both becomes my Duty to _Antonio_,

And my Respect to you; but I must beg

You’ll never name your Passion to me more,

That guilty Language, Sir, I must not hear:

--And yet your silence kills me. [Aside.

_Isab._ Very well dissembled. [Aside.

_Alb._ I can obey you, Madam, though I cannot live,

Whilst you command me silence;

For ‘tis a Flame that dares not look abroad

To seek for pity from another’s Eyes.

_Ism._ How he moves me! if this were real now,

Or that he knew to whom he made this Courtship-- [Aside.

_Alb._ Oh, do not turn away as if displeas’d.

_Ism._ No more, you’ve discompos’d my thoughts;

Be gone, and never let me see thy Face again.

_Alb._ Madam, I go, and will no more offend you,

--But I will look my last--farewel. [Offers to go.

_Isab._ Pray, Madam, call him back, he may be desperate.

--My Lord, return--

_Ism._ _Alberto_, tell me what you’d have me do.

_Alb._ Ah, Madam, do not put me to my choice,

For Lovers are unreasonable;

If I might name it, I would have you love me.

_Ism._ Love you, and what would be the end of that?

_Alb._ I cannot tell, but wish you were inclin’d

To make a tryal, Madam;

I have no thought or wish beyond that Blessing,

And that once gain’d, sure I should ask no more.

_Ism._ Were I inclin’d to this, have you consider’d

The fatal Consequences which attend

The breach of Vows and Friendship?

_Alb._ Madam, _Antonio_ first was false to you,

And not to punish that were such a Virtue

As he would never thank you for;

By all that’s good, till he prov’d so to you,

He had my Soul in keeping;

But this act makes me resolve

To recompense his Folly.

_Ism._ You’ve found the easiest Passage to my Heart,

You’ve took it on the weakest side;

--But I must beg you will pretend no further.

_Alb._ Divine _Clarina_, let me pay my thanks

In this submissive Posture, and never rise, [Kneels.

Till I can gain so much upon your Credit,

As to believe my Passion tends no farther

Than to adore you thus--and thus possess you.

[Kisses her hand, and bows.

_Ism._ Have not I dissembled finely, _Isabella_? [Aside.

_Isab._ Yes, if you could make me believe ‘tis so. [Aside.

_Ism._ Rise, Sir, and leave me, that I may blush alone

For what I’ve parted with so easily;

Pray do not visit me again too soon,

--But use your own discretion, and be secret.

_Alb._ Madam, the blessed Secret here is lodg’d,

Which Time shall ne’er reveal to human Knowledge. [Ex. _Alb._

_Ism._ I’m glad he’s gone before _Antonio’s_ return.

Enter _Laura_ weeping.

--What, _Laura_, all in Tears! the reason, pray.

_Lau._ Madam, the Prince, conducted by my Brother,

About an Hour since made me a Visit;

The Man of all the World I would have shun’d,

Knowing his amorous and inconstant Temper.

--At his approach he blusht and started back,

And I with great amazement did the like.

With fear I lost all power of going from him.

As he had done of making his Address;

He gaz’d and wonder’d, and I gaz’d on him,

And from his silence I became amaz’d.

--My Brother stood confounded at our Postures,

And only by the motion of his Head

(Which now he turn’d to me, then on the Prince)

We knew that he had Life.

_Ism._ Well, how recover’d ye?

_Lau._ The Prince then kneel’d, but could approach no nearer;

And then as if he’d taken me for some Deity,

He made a long disorder’d amorous Speech,

Which brought me back to Sense again:

But _Lorenzo_ told him that I was a Mortal,

And brought him nearer to me,

Where he began to make such Vows of Love--

_Ism._ What then?

_Lau._ Then I am ruin’d--

To all I said he found a contradiction,

And my denials did but more inflame him;

I told him of the Vows I’ad made to _Curtius_,

But he reply’d that _Curtius_ was a Subject.

But sure at last I’d won upon his Goodness,

Had not my Father enter’d,

To whom the Prince addrest himself;

And with his moving tale so won upon him,

Or rather by his Quality,

That he has gain’d his leave to visit me,

And quite forbids me e’er to speak to _Curtius_.

_Ism._ Alas the day, is this all?

_Lau._ All! can there be more to make me miserable?

_Ism._ I see no reason thou hast to complain:

Come, wipe your Eyes, and take a good Heart;

For I’ll tell thee a Story of my own,

That will let thee see I have much more cause to weep;

And yet I have a thousand little Stratagems

In my Head, which give me as many hopes:

This unlucky restraint upon our Sex,

Makes us all cunning; and that shall assist thee now

With my help, I warrant thee;

Come in with me, and know the rest.

[Exeunt.

_Isab._ So, so, disguise it how you will,

I know you are a real Lover;

And that secret shall advance my Love-design.

Yes, Madam, now I will be serv’d by you,

Or you shall fail to find a Friend of me. [Ex. _Isab._

SCENE III. The Street.

Enter _Lorenzo_ drunk, with a _Page_, and Musick, as in the dark.

_Lor._ Here’s the Door, begin and play your best,

But let them be soft low Notes, do you hear? [They play.

Enter _Antonio_.

_Ant._ Musick at my Lodgings! it is _Alberto_;

Oh, how I love him for’t--if _Clarina_ stand his

Courtship, I am made;

I languish between Hope and Fear.

_Lor._ Stay, Friend, I hear somebody. [Musick ceases.

_Pag._ ‘Tis nobody, Sir.

Enter _Isabella_.

_Isab._ ‘Tis _Lorenzo_, and my Plot’s ripe; [Aside.

[_Lorenzo_ being retir’d the while a little further.

‘Twill not sure be hard to get him, under pretence

Of seeing _Clarina_, into my Chamber,

And then I’ll order him at my pleasure;

_Ismena_ is on my side, for I know all her Secrets,

And she must wink at mine therefore. [She retires.

_Lor._ Thou art in the right, Boy,

I think indeed ‘twas nothing. [Plays again.

Enter _Alberto_.

_Alb._ She yields, bad Woman!

Why so easily won?

By me too, who am thy Husband’s Friend:

Oh dangerous Boldness! unconsidering Woman!

I lov’d thee, whilst I thought thou couldst not yield;

But now that Easiness has undone thy Interest in my Heart,

I’ll back, and tell thee that it was to try thee.

_Lor._ No, no, ‘twas my Fears, away with the Song,

I’ll take it on your word that ‘tis fit for my purpose.

_Fid._ I’ll warrant you, my Lord.

SONG.

_In vain I have labour’d the Victor to prove

Of a Heart that can ne’er give attendance to Love;

So hard to be done.

That nothing so young

Could e’er have resisted a Passion so long.

Yet nothing I left unattempted or said,

That might soften the Heart of this pitiless Maid;

But still she was shy,

And would blushing deny,

Whilst her willinger Eyes gave her Language the lye.

Since, _Phillis_, my Passion you vow to despise,

Withdraw the false Hopes from your flattering Eyes:

For whilst they inspire

A resistless vain Fire,

We shall grow to abhor, what we now do admire._ [Ex. _Musick_.

_Alb._ What’s this, and at _Clarina’s_ Lodgings too?

Sure ‘tis _Antonio_, impatient of delay,

Gives her a Serenade for me.

Enter _Isabella_.

_Isab._ ‘Tis the Fool himself--

My Lord, where are you?

_Alb._ How! a Woman’s Voice! ‘tis dark, I’ll advance.

_Lor._ Thou Simpleton, I told thee there was somebody.

_Pag._ Lord, Sir, ‘tis only _Isabella_ that calls you.

_Lor._ Away, Sirrah, I find by my fears ‘tis no Woman.

[Goes out with the _Page_.

_Isab._ Why don’t you come? here’s nobody.

_Alb._ Here I am.

_Isab._ Where?

_Alb._ Here. [Gives her his Hand.

_Isab._ My Lord, you may venture, _Clarina_ will be

Alone within this Hour, where you shall entertain

Her at your freedom: but you must stay awhile in my

Chamber till my Lord’s a bed;

For none but I must know of the favour she designs you.

_Alb._ Oh Gods! what Language do I hear--

False and Perfidious Woman, I might have thought,

Since thou wert gain’d so easily by me,

Thou wouldst with equal haste yield to another.

_Isab._ It is not _Lorenzo_, what shall I do? [She steals in.

Enter _Lorenzo_ and _Page_.

_Lor._ A Pox of all damn’d cowardly fear!

Now did I think I had drunk Nature up to Resolution:

I have heard of those that could have dar’d in their Drink;

But I find, drunk or sober, ‘tis all one in me.

_Alb._ The Traitor’s here,

Whom I will kill whoe’er he be.

_Lor._ Boy, go see for _Isabella_.

_Pag._ I see a Man should not be a Coward and a Lover

At once--_Isabella_, _Isabella_, she’s gone, Sir. [Calls.

_Alb._ Yes, Villain, she’s gone, and in her room

Is one that will chastise thy Boldness.

_Lor._ That’s a proud word though, whoe’er thou be;

But how I shall avoid it, is past my Understanding.

_Alb._ Where art thou, Slave?

[_Alberto_ gropes for him, he avoids him.

_Pag._ Take heart, Sir, here’s company which I will

Get to assist you--

Enter _Antonio_.

Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a stranger set upon by Thieves.

[They fight, _Antonio_ with _Alberto_, _Alberto_ falls, is

wounded. _Lor._ and _Page_ run away the while.

_Alb._ Whoe’er thou be’st that takes the Traitor’s part,

Commend me to the wrong’d _Antonio_.

_Ant._ _Alberto_! dear _Alberto_, is it thee?

_Alb._ _Antonio!_

_Ant._ I am asham’d to say I am _Antonio_;

Oh Gods, why would you suffer this mistake?

_Alb._ I am not wounded much,

My greatest pain is my concern for thee;

Friend, thou art wrong’d, falsely and basely wrong’d;

_Clarina_, whom you lov’d and fear’d,

Has now betray’d thy Honour with her own.

_Ant._ Without that sad addition to my Grief,

I should not long have born the weight of Life,

Having destroy’d thine by a dire mistake.

_Alb._ Thou art deceiv’d.

_Ant._ Alas, why was it not permitted me

To lose my Friend, or Wife? had one surviv’d,

I might have dy’d in silence for the other;

Oh my _Alberto_! oh _Clarina_ too!-- [Weeps.

_Alb._ Come, do not grieve for me, I shall be well,

I yet find strength enough to get away;

And then I’ll let thee know my Fate and thine.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. _Antonio’s_ House.

Enter _Clarina_, _Ismena_, and _Isabella_ weeping.

_Isab._ For Heaven sake, Madam, pardon me.

_Clar._ Be dumb for ever, false and treacherous Woman,

Was there no way but this to mask your Cheat?

A Lye which has undone us all.

_Isab._ Alas, ‘twas in the dark, how could I know him?

Pray forgive it me, and try my future Service.

_Clar._ I never will forgive thee, naughty Girl;

_Alberto_ now incens’d will tell _Antonio_ all.

_Isab._ What need you care, Madam?

You are secure enough.

_Clar._ Thou salv’st an Error with a greater still;

Dost thou not know _Antonio’s_ Jealousy,

Which yet is moderate, rais’d to a higher pitch,

May ruin me, _Ismena_, and thy self?

_Ism._ Sister, there cannot be much harm in this;

‘Tis an ill chance, ‘tis true, for by it we have lost

The pleasure of an innocent Revenge

Upon _Antonio_; but if understood,

We have but miss’d that end.

_Clar._ Oh _Ismena!_

This Jealousy is an unapprehensive madness,

A non-sense which does still abandon Reason.

_Isab._ Madam, early in the Morning

I’ll to _Alberto’s_ Lodgings, and tell him the mistake.

_Clar._ ‘Twill be too late.

_Ism._ Sister, what think you if I go myself?

_Clar._ You should not be so daring;

Besides, I blush to think what strange opinion

He’ll entertain of me the while.

_Ism._ Do not let that afflict you.

Fetch my Veil, and if _Antonio_ chance to ask for me,

Tell him I’m gone to _Laura_. [Ex. _Isab._

Believe me, I will set all strait again.

Enter _Isabella_ with the Veil.

_Clar._ Thou hast more Courage, Girl, than I.

_Ism._ What need is there of much of that,

To encounter a gay young Lover,

Where I am sure there cannot be much danger?

_Clar._ Well, take your chance, I wish you luck, Sir,

For I am e’en as much bent upon Revenge,

As thou art upon Marriage.

_Ism._ Come, my Veil, this and the Night

Will enough secure me. [Puts on the Veil and goes out.

[Ex. _Clar._ and _Isab._

SCENE V. A Chamber in _Alberto’s_ House.

Discovers _Alberto_ and _Antonio_.

_Alb._ Nay, thou shalt see’t before thou dost revenge it;

In such a case, thy self should be the Witness,

She knows not what has past to night between us,

Nor should she, if thou couldst contain thy Rage;

And that, _Antonio_, you shall promise me:

To morrow place thy self behind the Arras,

And from thy Eyes thy own Misfortunes know.

--What will not disobliged Passion do? [Aside.

_Ant._ I’ll hide my Anger in a seeming calm,

And what I have to do consult the while,

And mask my Vengeance underneath a Smile. [Ex. _Ant._

Enter _Page_.

_Pag._ My Lord, there is without a Lady

Desires to speak with you.

_Alb._ Who is’t?

_Pag._ I know not, Sir, she’s veiled. [Exit _Page_.

Enter _Ismena_ weeping.

_Alb._ Conduct her in.

_Ism._ Oh _Alberto_, _Isabella_ has undone us all!

_Alb._ She weeps, and looks as innocent!

--What mean you, false dissembling _Clarina_?

What, have you borrow’d from Deceit new Charms,

And think’st to fool me to a new belief?

_Ism._ How, Sir, can you too be unkind?

Nay then ‘tis time to die; alas, there wanted but your credit

To this mistake, to make me truly miserable.

_Alb._ What Credit? What Mistake? oh, undeceive me,

For I have done thee Injuries past Forgiveness,

If thou be’st truly innocent.

_Ism._ If _Isabella_, under pretence of courting me

For _Lorenzo_, whom she designs to

Make a Husband,

Has given him freedoms will undo my Honour,

If not prevented soon.

_Alb._ May I credit this, and that it was not by thy

Command she did it?

_Ism._ Be witness, Heaven, my Innocence in this,

Which if you will believe, I’m safe again.

_Alb._ I do believe thee, but thou art not safe,

Here, take this Poyniard, and revenge thy Wrongs,

Wrongs which I dare not beg a Pardon for. [He gives her a Dagger.

_Ism._ Why, Sir, what have you done? have you

Deceiv’d me, and do you not indeed love me?

_Alb._ Oh _Clarina!_ do not ask that Question,

Too much of that has made me ruin thee;

It made me jealous, drunk with Jealousy,

And then I did unravel all my Secrets.

_Ism._ What Secrets, Sir? you have then seen _Antonio_.

_Alb._ Yes.

_Ism._ Hah--Now, Wit, if e’er thou did’st possess

A Woman, assist her at her need. [Aside.

--Well, Sir, rise and tell me all.

_Alb._ I will not rise till you have pardoned me,

Or punished my Misfortune.

_Ism._ Be what it will, I do forgive it thee.

_Alb._ _Antonio_, Madam, knows my Happiness,

For in my Rage I told him that you lov’d me;

--What shall I do?

_Ism._ I cannot blame you though it were unkind.

_Alb._ This I could help, but I have promis’d him,

That he shall be a witness of this Truth;

What say you, Madam, do I not merit Death?

Oh speak, and let me know my doom whate’er it be.

_Ism._ Make good your Word.

_Alb._ What mean you?

_Ism._ What you have promised him, perform as you intended.

_Alb._ What then?

_Ism._ Then come as you design’d to visit me.

_Alb._ But let me know what ‘tis you mean to do,

That I may act accordingly.

_Ism._ No. Answer me to every Question ask’d,

And I perhaps may set all strait again;

It is now late, and I must not be missing:

But if you love me, be no more jealous of me,

--Farewel.

_Alb._ Must I be ignorant then of your Design?

_Ism._ Yes, _Alberto_;

And you shall see what Love will make a Woman do.

[He leads her out.

_Alb._ Now am I caught again, inconstant Nature.

--Would she had less of Beauty or of Wit,

Or that _Antonio_ did but less deserve her;

Or that she were not married,

Or I’ad less Virtue, for ‘tis that which awes me.

That tender sense of nothing,

And makes the other Reasons seem as Bugbears.

--I love _Clarina_ more than he can do.

And yet this Virtue doth oppose that Love,

Tells me there lurks a Treason there

Against _Antonio’s_ and _Clarina’s_ Virtue.

--’Tis but too true indeed, and I’m not safe,

Whilst I conceal the Criminal within:

I must reveal it, for whilst I hide the Traitor,

I seem to love the Treason too;

I will resign it then, since ‘tis less blame

To perish by my Pain, than live with Shame. [Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Room in _Salvator’s_ House.

Enter _Frederick_ and _Laura_.

_Fred._ _Laura_, consider well my Quality,

And be not angry with your Father’s Confidence,

Who left us here alone.

_Lau._ He will repent that Freedom when he knows

What use you’ve made on’t, Sir.

_Fred._ Fy, fy, _Laura_, a Lady bred at Court, and

Yet want complaisance enough to entertain

A Gallant in private! this coy Humour

Is not _à-la-mode_.--Be not so peevish with a Heart that dies for you.

_Lau._ Pray tell me, Sir, what is’t in me that can

Encourage this?

_Fred._ That which is in all lovely Women, _Laura_;

A thousand Blushes play about your Cheeks,

Which shows the briskness of the Blood that warms them.

--If I but tell you how I do adore you,

You strait decline your Eyes;

Which does declare you understand my meaning,

And every Smile or Frown betrays your thoughts,

And yet you cry, you do not give me cause.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ _Curtius_, Madam, waits without.

_Fred._ I do not like his haste,

--Tell him he cannot be admitted now.

_Lau._ Sir, he is one that merits better treatment from you;

How can you injure thus the Man you love?

_Fred._ Oh Madam, ask your Eyes, those powerful Attracts.

And do not call their Forces so in question,

As to believe they kindle feeble Fires,

Such as a Friendship can surmount. No, _Laura_,

They’ve done far greater Miracles.

_Lau._ Sir, ‘tis in vain you tell me of their Power,

Unless they could have made a nobler Conquest

Than Hearts that yield to every petty Victor.

--Look on me well,

Can nothing here inform you of my Soul,

And how it scorns to treat on these Conditions?

[Looks on him, he gazes with a half Smile.

_Fred._ Faith, no, _Laura_.

I see nothing there but wondrous Beauty,

And a deal of needless Pride and Scorn,

And such as may be humbled.

_Lau._ Sir, you mistake, that never can abate.

But yet I know your Power may do me injuries;

But I believe you’re guilty of no Sin,

Save your Inconstancy, which is sufficient;

And, Sir, I beg I may not be the first [Kneels and weeps.

May find new Crimes about you.

_Fred._ Rise, _Laura_, thou hast but too many Beauties,

Which pray be careful that you keep conceal’d. [Offers to go.

_Lau._ I humbly thank you, Sir.

_Fred._--But why should this interposing Virtue check me?

--Stay, _Laura_, tell me; must you marry _Curtius_?

_Lau._ Yes, Sir, I must.

_Fred._ _Laura_, you must not.

_Lau._ How, Sir!

_Fred._ I say you shall not marry him,

Unless you offer up a Victim,

That may appease the Anger you have rais’d in me.

_Lau._ I’ll offer up a thousand Prayers and Tears.

_Fred._ That will not do.

Since thou’st deny’d my just Pretensions to thee,

No less than what I told you of shall satisfy me.

_Lau._ Oh, where is all your Honour and your Virtue?

_Fred_. Just where it was, there’s no such real thing.

I know that thou wert made to be possest,

And he that does refuse it, loves thee least.

--There’s danger in my Love, and your Delay,

And you are most secure whilst you obey. [He pulls her gently.

_Lau._ Then this shall be my safety, hold off, [She draws a Dagger.

Or I’ll forget you are my Prince. [He laughs.

_Fred._ Pretty _Virago_, how you raise my Love?

--I have a Dagger too; what will you do? [Shows her a Dagger.

Enter _Curtius_.

_Cur._ How! the Prince! arm’d against _Laura_ too! [Draws.

_Fred._ Traitor, dost draw upon thy Prince?

_Cur._ Your Pardon, Sir, I meant it on a Ravisher,

A foul misguided Villain, [Bows.

One that scarce merits the brave name of Man;

One that betrays his Friend, forsakes his Wife,

And would commit a Rape upon my Mistress.

_Fred._ Her Presence is thy Safety, be gone and leave me.

_Cur._ By no means, Sir; the Villain may return,

To which fair _Laura_, should not be expos’d.

_Fred._ Slave, dar’st thou disobey? [Offers to fight.

_Cur._ Hold, Sir, and do not make me guilty of a Sin,

Greater than that of yours.

Enter _Salvator_.

_Salv._ Gods pity me; here’s fine doings!--Why, how

Came this roistring Youngster into my House? Sir,

Who sent for you, hah?

_Cur._ Love.

_Salv._ Love, with a Witness to whom? my Daughter?

--No, Sir, she’s otherwise dispos’d of I can assure

You. Be gone and leave my House, and that quickly

Too; and thank me that I do not secure

Thee for a Traitor.

_Cur._ Will you not hear me speak?

_Salv._ Not a word, Sir, go, be gone; unless your

Highness will have him apprehended. [To _Fred._

_Fred._ No, Sir, it shall not need--_Curtius_, look

To hear from me.--

[Comes up to him, and tells him so in a menacing Tone, and go out

severally.

_Salv._ Go, Mrs. _Minks_, get you in.

[Ex. _Salv._ and _Lau._

SCENE II. A Street.

Enter _Frederick_ passing in Anger over the Stage, meets

_Lorenzo_.

_Lor._ O Sir, I’m glad I’ve found you; for

I have the rarest News for you.

_Fred._ What News?

_Lor._ Oh the Devil, he’s angry;--Why, Sir, the prettiest young--

_Fred._ There’s for your Intelligence. [Strikes him, and goes out.

_Lor._ So, very well; how mortal is the favour of

Princes! these be turns of State now; what the

Devil ails he trow; sure he could not be

Offended with the News I have brought him;

If he be, he’s strangely out of tune:

And sure he has too much Wit to grow virtuous at these

Years. No, no, he has had some repulse from a

Lady; and that’s a wonder; for he has a Tongue and a

Purse that seldom fails: if Youth and Vigour would

Stretch as far, he were the wonder of the Age.

Enter _Curtius_.

_Cur._ _Lorenzo_, didst thou see the Prince?

_Lor._ Marry, did I, and feel him too.

_Cur._ Why, did he strike you?

_Lor._ I’m no true Subject if he did not; and that

Only for doing that Service which once was most acceptable

To him.--Prithee what’s the matter with him, hah?

_Cur._ I know not, leave me.

_Lor._ Leave thee, what, art thou out of humour too?

Let me but know who ‘tis has disoblig’d thee, and I’ll--

_Cur._ What wilt thou?

_Lor._ Never see his Face more, if a Man.

_Cur._ And what if a Woman?

_Lor._ Then she’s an idle peevish Slut, I’ll warrant her.

_Cur._ Conclude it so, and leave me.

_Lor._ Nay, now thou hast said the only thing that could

Keep me with thee, thou mayst be desperate; I’ll

Tell you, _Curtius_, these female Mischiefs make Men

Take dangerous Resolutions sometimes.

Enter _Alberto_.

_Alb._ _Curtius_, I’ve something to deliver to your Ear.

[Whispers.

_Cur._ Any thing from _Alberto_ is welcome.

_Lor._ Well, I will be hang’d if there be not some

Mischief in agitation; it cannot be wenching;

They look all too dull and sober for that;

And besides, then I should have been a party concern’d.

_Cur._ The place and time.

_Alb._ An hour hence i’th’ Grove by the River-side.

_Cur._ Alone, thou say’st?

_Alb._ Alone, the Prince will have it so.

_Cur._ I will not fail a moment. [Ex. _Alb._

--So this has eas’d my heart of half its Load.

_Lor._ I’ll sneak away, for this is some fighting

Business, and I may perhaps be invited a Second,

A Compliment I care not for. [Offers to go.

_Cur._ _Lorenzo_, a word with you.

_Lor._ ‘Tis so, what shall I do now? [Aside.

_Cur._ Stay.

_Lor._ I am a little in haste, my Lord.

_Cur._ I shall soon dispatch you.

_Lor._ I believe so, for I am half dead already

With Fear. [Aside.] --Sir, I have promis’d to make a visit

To a Lady, and--

_Cur._ What I’ve to say will not detain you long.

_Lor._ What a Dog was I, I went not

When he first desir’d me to go!

Oh Impertinency, thou art justly rewarded!

_Cur._ _Lorenzo_, may I believe you love me?

_Lor._ Now what shall I say, Ay or no? [Aside.

The Devil take me if I know.

_Cur._ Will you do me a favour?

_Lor._ There ‘tis again. [Aside.

_Cur._ I know I may trust thee with a secret.

_Lor._ Truly, _Curtius_, I cannot tell.

In some cases I am not very retentive.

_Cur._ I am going about a business, that perhaps

May take up all the time I have to live,

And I may never see thy Sister more;

Will you oblige me in a Message to her?

_Lor._ You know you may command me;

--I’m glad ‘tis no worse. [Aside.

_Cur._ Come, go with me into my Cabinet,

And there I’ll write to _Laura_;

And prithee if thou hear’st that I am dead,

Tell her I fell a Sacrifice to her,

And that’s enough, she understands the rest.

_Lor._ But harkye, _Curtius_, by your favour, this is but a Scurvy Tale

to carry to your Mistress;

I hope you are not in earnest.

_Cur._ Yes.

_Lor._ Yes! why, what a foolish idle humour’s this in you? I vow ‘twill

go near to break the poor Girl’s Heart;--

Come, be advis’d, Man.

_Cur._ Perhaps I may consider on’t for that reason.

_Lor._ There are few that go about such businesses,

But have one thing or other to consider in favour of Life;

I find that even in the most magnanimous:--

Prithee who is’t with?

_Cur._ That’s counsel: and pray let this too which I have

Told you be a Secret, for ‘twill concern your Life.

_Lor._ Good _Curtius_, take it back again then;

For a hundred to one but my over-care of keeping it

Will betray it.

_Cur._ Thou lovest thy self better.

_Lor._ Well, that’s a comfort yet.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Wood.

Enter _Cloris_ dressed like a Country-Boy, follow’d by _Guilliam_

a Clown; _Cloris_ comes reading a Letter.

_Clo._ [Reads.] Cloris, _beware of Men; for though I my self be one,_

_Yet I have the Frailties of my Sex, and can dissemble too;_

_Trust none of us, for if thou dost, thou art undone;_

_We make Vows to all alike we see,_

_And even the best of Men, the Prince,_

_Is not to be credited in an affair of Love._

--Oh _Curtius_, thy advice was very kind;

Had it arriv’d before I’ad been undone!

--Can _Frederick_ too be false!

A Prince, and be unjust to her that loves him too?

--Surely it is impossible--

Perhaps thou lov’st me too, and this may be

[Pointing to the Letter.

Some Plot of thine to try my Constancy:

--Howe’er it be, since he could fail last night

Of seeing me, I have at least a cause to justify

This shameful change; and sure in this Disguise,

I shall not soon be known, dost think I shall? [Looks on herself.

_Guil._ Why, forsooth, what do you intend to pass for,

A Maid or a Boy?

_Clo._ Why, what I seem to be, will it not do?

_Guil._ Yes, yes, it may do, but I know not what;

I would Love would transmography me to a Maid now,

--We should be the prettiest Couple:

Don’t you remember when you dress’d me up the last

Carnival, was I not the woundiest handsome Lass

A body could see in a Summer’s day?

There was _Claud_ the Shepherd as freakish after me,

I’ll warrant you, and simper’d and tript it like any thing.

_Clo._ Ay, but they say ‘tis dangerous for young

Maids to live at Court.

_Guil._ Nay, then I should be loth to give temptation.

--Pray, forsooth, what’s that you read so often there?

_Clo._ An advice to young Maids that are in love.

_Guil._ Ay, ay, that same Love is a very vengeance thing,

Wou’d I were in love too; I see it makes a body valiant;

One neither feels Hunger nor Cold that is possest with it.

_Clo._ Thou art i’th’ right, it can do Miracles.

_Guil._ So it seems, for without a Miracle you and I could never

Have rambled about these Woods all night without either Bottle or

Wallet:

I could e’en cry for hunger now.

_Clo._ What a dull Soul this Fellow hath?

Sure it can never feel the generous Pains

Of Love, as mine does now; oh, how I glory

To find my Heart above the common rate!

Were not my Prince inconstant,

I would not envy what the Blessed do above:

But he is false, good Heaven!-- [Weeps. _Guil._ howls.

--What dost thou feel, that thou shouldst weep with me?

_Guil._ Nothing but Hunger, sharp Hunger, forsooth.

_Clo._ Leave calling me forsooth, it will betray us.

_Guil._ What shall I call you then?

_Clo._ Call me, _Philibert_, or any thing;

And be familiar with me: put on thy Hat, lest any come and see us.

_Guil._ ‘Tis a hard name, but I’ll learn it by heart.

--Well, _Philibert_--What shall we do when we come to Court?

[Puts on his Hat.

Besides eating and drinking, which I shall do in abundance.

_Clo._ We must get each of us a Service:

--But thou art such a Clown.

_Guil._ Nay, say not so, honest _Philibert_: for look ye,

I am much the properer Fellow of the two. [Walks.

_Clo._ Well, try thy fortune; but be sure you never discover

Me, whatever Questions may chance to be asked thee.

_Guil._ I warrant thee, honest Lad, I am true and trusty;

But I must be very familiar with you, you say.

_Clo._ Yes, before Company.

_Guil._ Pray let me begin and practise a little now,

An’t please you, for fear I should not be saucy enough,

When we arrive at Court.

_Clo._ I’ll warrant you you’ll soon learn there.

_Guil._ Oh Lord, _Philibert!_ _Philibert!_ I see a Man a coming

Most deadly fine, let’s run away.

_Clo._ Thus thou hast serv’d me all this night,

There’s not a Bush we come at, but thou start’st thus.

_Guil._ ‘Tis true you are a Lover, and may stay the danger on’t;

But I’ll make sure for one.

_Clo._ It is the Prince, oh Gods! what makes he here?

With Looks disorder’d too; this Place is fit for Death and sad

Despair; the melancholy Spring a sleepy murmur makes,

A proper Consort for departing Souls,

When mix’d with dying Groans, and the thick Boughs

Compose a dismal Roof;

Dark as the gloomy Shades of Death or Graves.

--He comes this way, I’ll hide my self awhile. [Goes behind a Bush.

Enter _Frederick_.

_Fred._ But yet not this, nor my despight to _Laura_,

Shall make me out of love with Life,

Whilst I have youthful Fires about my Heart:

--Yet I must fight with _Curtius_,

And so chastise the Pride of that fond Maid,

Whose saucy Virtue durst controul my Flame.

--And yet I love her not as I do _Cloris_;

But fain I would have overcome that Chastity,

Of which the foolish Beauty boasts so.

_Clo._ _Curtius_, I thank thee, now I do believe thee.

_Guilliam_, if thou seest any fighting anon, [The Prince walks.

Be sure you run out and call some body.

_Guil._ You need not bid me run away, when I once

See them go to that.

Enter _Curtius_.

_Cur._ Sir, I am come as you commanded me.

_Fred._ When you consider what you’ve lately done,

You will not wonder why I sent for you;

And when I mean to fight, I do not use to parly:

Come draw.

_Cur._ Shew me my Enemy, and then if I am slow--

_Fred._ I am he, needst thou one more powerful?

_Cur._ You, Sir! what have I done to make you so?

_Fred._ If yet thou want’st a further proof of it,

Know I’ll dispute my Claim to _Laura_.

_Cur._ That must not be with me, Sir;

God forbid that I should raise my Arm against my Prince.

--If _Laura_ have so little Faith and Virtue,

To render up that Right belongs to me,

With all my heart I yield her

To any but to you:

And, Sir, for your own sake you must not have her.

_Fred._ Your Reason?

_Cur._ Sir, you’re already married.

_Fred._ Thou lyest, and seek’st excuses for thy Cowardice.

_Cur._ I wish you would recal that hasty Injury;

Yet this I’ll bear from you, who know ‘tis false.

_Fred._ Will nothing move thee?

_Cur._ You would believe so, Sir, if I should tell you,

That besides all this, I have a juster Cause.

_Fred._ Juster than that of _Laura_? call it up, then,

And let it save thee from a further shame.

_Cur._ Yes, so I will, ‘tis that of _Cloris_,

Who needs my aids much more;

Do you remember such a Virgin, Sir?

For so she was till she knew _Frederick_,

The sweetest Innocent that ever Nature made.

_Fred._ Not thy own Honour, nor thy Love to _Laura_,

Would make thee draw, and now at _Cloris’. Name

Thou art incens’d, thy Eyes all red with Rage:

--Oh, thou hast rouz’d my Soul!

Nor would I justify my Wrongs to her,

Unless it were to satisfy my Jealousy,

Which thou hast rais’d in me by this concern.

--Draw, or I’ll kill thee.

_Cur._ Stay, Sir, and hear me out.

_Fred._ I will not stay, now I reflect on all

Thy former kindness to her--

_Cur._ I will not fight, but I’ll defend my self. [They fight.

_Fred._ We are betray’d.

_Cur._ Yes, Sir, and you are wounded.

[_Guil._ runs bawling out, they are both wounded.

_Clo._ Oh Heaven defend the Prince! [She peeps.

_Fred._ I hear some coming, go, be gone,

And save thy self by flight.

[_Frederick_ stands leaning on his Sword.

_Cur._ Sir, give me leave to stay, my flight will look like Guilt.

_Fred._ By no means, _Curtius_, thou wilt be taken here,

And thou shalt never charge me with that Crime of betraying

Thee: when we meet next, we’ll end it.

_Cur._ I must obey you then. [Exit.

Enter _Cloris_.

_Clo._ Sir, has the Villain hurt you? [She supports him.

--Pray Heaven my Sorrows do not betray me now;

For since he’s false, I fain would die conceal’d. [Aside.

--Shew me your Wound, and I will tie it up.

Alas, you bleed extremely.--

_Fred._ Kind Youth, thy Succours are in vain, though welcome;

For though I bleed, I am not wounded much.

_Clo._ No? why did you let him pass unpunish’d then,

Who would have hurt you more?

Enter _Guilliam_ with _Galliard_.

_Gal._ Where was’t?

_Guil._ Look ye, Sir, there, don’t you see them?

_Gal._ How does your Highness? This Fellow told me

Of a quarrel here, which made me haste.

_Fred._ Be silent, and carry me to my own apartment.

_Gal._ Alas, Sir, is it you that fought?

_Fred._ No more Questions.--

Kind Boy, pray leave me not till I have found

A way to recompense thy pretty care of me.

_Clo._ I will wait on you, Sir.

[Exeunt all but _Guil._

Enter _Lorenzo_ and his _Page_. Peeps first.

_Lor._ What’s the matter here? the Prince is wounded too.

Oh, what a Dog was I to know of some such thing,

And not secure them all?

[_Lor._ stands gazing at _Guil._ _Guil._ stands tabering his Hat,

and scruing his Face.

--What’s here? Ha, ha, ha, this is the pleasantest

Fellow that e’er I saw in my Life.

Prithee, Friend, what’s thy Name?

_Guil._ My Name, an’t shall like ye.

My Name, it is _Guilliam_.

_Lor._ From whence comest thou?

_Guil._ From a Village a great huge way off.

_Lor._ And what’s thy business here, hah?

_Guil._ Truly, Sir, not to tell a Lye;

I come to get a Service here at Court.

_Lor._ A Service at Court! ha, ha, that’s a pleasant

Humour, i’faith. Why, Fellow, what canst thou do?

_Guil._ Do, Sir! I can do any thing.

_Lor._ Why, what canst thou do? canst thou dress well?

--Set a Peruke to advantage, tie a Crevat,

And Cuffs? put on a Belt with dexterity, hah?

These be the Parts that must recommend you.

_Guil._ I know not what you mean,

But I am sure I can do them all.

_Lor._ Thou art confident it seems, and I can tell

You, Sirrah, that’s a great step to Preferment;

--But well, go on then, canst ride the great Horse?

_Guil._ The biggest in all our Town

I have rid a thousand times.

_Lor._ That’s well; canst fence?

_Guil._ Fence, Sir, what’s that?

_Lor._ A Term we use for the Art and Skill of handling a Weapon.

_Guil._ I can thrash, Sir.

_Lor._ What’s that, Man?

_Guil._ Why, Sir, it is--it is--thrashing.

_Lor._ An Artist, I vow; canst play on any Musick?

_Guil._ Oh, most rogically, Sir, I have a Bagpipe that

Every Breath sets the whole Village a dancing.

_Lor._ Better still; and thou canst dance, I’ll warrant?

_Guil._ Dance, he, he, he, I vow you’ve light on

My Master-piece, y’fegs.

_Lor_. And I’ll try thee: Boy, go fetch some of the [To the _Page_.

Musick hither which I keep in pay. [Ex. _Page_.

--But hark you, Friend, though I love Dancing very well,

And that may recommend thee in a great degree;

Yet ‘tis wholly necessary that you should be valiant too:

We Great ones ought to be serv’d by Men of Valour,

For we are very liable to be affronted by many here

To our Faces, which we would gladly have beaten behind

Our Backs.--But Pox on’t, thou hast not the Huff

And Grimace of a Man of Prowess.

_Guil._ As for fighting, though I do not care for it,

Yet I can do’t if any body angers me, or so.

_Lor._ But I must have you learn to do’t when

Any body angers me too.

_Guil._ Sir, they told me I should have no need on’t

Here; but I shall learn.

_Lor._ Why, you Fool, that’s not a thing to be learn’d,

--That’s a brave Inclination born with Man,

A brave undaunted something, a thing that,

That comes from, from, I know not what,

For I was born without it.

Enter _Page_ and Musick.

Oh, are you come? let’s see, Sirrah, your Activity,

For I must tell you that’s another step to Preferment.

[He dances a Jig _en Paisant_.

‘Tis well perform’d; well, hadst thou but Wit,

Valour, _Bone Mine_, good Garb, a Peruke,

Conduct and Secrecy in Love-Affairs, and half

A dozen more good Qualities, thou wert

Fit for something; but I will try thee.

Boy, let him have better Clothes; as for his Documents,

I’ll give him those my self.

_Guil._ Hah, I don’t like that word, it sounds terribly.

[Aside.

[Ex. _Page_ and _Guil._ with Musick.

_Lor._ This Fellow may be of use to me; being

Doubtless very honest, because he is so very simple:

For to say truth, we Men of Parts are sometimes

Over-wise, witness my last night’s retreat

From but a supposed Danger, and returning to fall

Into a real one. Well, I’ll now to _Isabella_,

And know her final Resolution; if _Clarina_ will

Be kind, so; if not, there be those that will.

--And though I cannot any Conquest boast

For all the Time and Money I have lost,

At least of _Isabel_ I’ll be reveng’d,

And have the flattering Baggage soundly swing’d;

And rather than she shall escape my Anger,

My self shall be the Hero that shall bang her. [Exit.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. _Antonio’s_ House.

Enter _Ismena_ and _Isabella_.

_Isab._ Madam, turn your back to that side,

For there _Antonio_ is hid; he must not see your

Face: now raise your Voice, that he may hear what ‘tis you say.

_Ism._ I’ll warrant you, _Isabella_:

Was ever wretched Woman’s Fate like mine,

Forc’d to obey the rigid Laws of Parents,

And marry with a Man I did not love?

_Ant._ Oh, there’s my cause of Fear. [_Ant._ peeps.

_Ism._ Though since I had him, thou know’st I have endeavour’d

To make his Will my Law,

Till by degrees and Custom, which makes things natural,

I found this Heart, which ne’er had been engag’d

To any other, grow more soft to him;

And still the more he lov’d, the more I was oblig’d,

And made returns still kinder; till I became

Not only to allow, but to repay his Tenderness.

_Isab._ She counterfeits rarely. [Aside.

Madam, indeed I have observ’d this truth.

_Ism._ See who ‘tis knocks. [One knocks.

_Ant._ What will this come to? [Aside.

_Isab._ Madam, ‘tis _Alberto_.

Enter _Alberto_. Bows.

_Ism._ My Lord, you’ve often told me that you lov’d me,

Which I with Womens usual Pride believ’d;

And now, encourag’d by my hopeful Promises,

You look for some Returns: Sir, is it so?

_Alb._ What means she?

Pray Heaven I answer right. [Aside.

--Madam, if I have err’d in that belief,

To know I do so, is sufficient punishment.

--Lovers, Madam, though they have no returns,

Like sinking Men, still catch at all they meet with;

And whilst they live, though in the midst of Storms,

Because they wish, they also hope for Calms.

_Ism._ And did you, Sir, consider who I was?

_Alb._ Yes, Madam, Wife unto my Friend _Antonio_,

The only Man that has an Interest here:

--But, Madam, that must still submit to Love.

_Ism._ Canst thou at once be true to him and me?

_Alb._ Madam, I know not that;

But since I must lose one,

My Friendship I can better lay aside.

_Ism._ Hast thou forgot how dear thou art to him?

_Alb._ No, I do believe I am, and that his Life

Were but a worthless trifle, if I needed it.

Yet, Madam, you are dearer to him still

Than his _Alberto_; and ‘tis so with me:

--Him I esteem, but you I do adore;

And he whose Soul’s insensible of Love,

Can never grateful to his Friendship prove.

_Ism._ By your example, Sir, I’ll still retain

My Love for him; and what I had for you,

Which was but Friendship, I’ll abandon too.

_Ant._ Happy _Antonio_.-- [Aside.

_Ism._ Pray what have you _Antonio_ cannot own?

Has he not equal Beauty, if not exceeding thine?

Has he not equal Vigour, Wit, and Valour?

And all that even raises Men to Gods,

Wert not for poor Mortality?

--Vain Man, couldst thou believe

That I would quit my Duty to this Husband,

And sacrifice his Right to thee?

--Couldst thou believe me yesterday?

When from thy Importunity and Impudence,

To send thee from me,

I promised thee to love thee.

--Nay, rather, treacherous Man,

Couldst thou believe I did not hate thee then,

Who basely would betray thy Friend and me?

_Alb._ Sure this is earnest. [Aside.

_Ant._ Oh brave _Clarina_! [Aside.

_Ism._ Speak, Traitor to my Fame and Honour;

Was there no Woman, but _Antonio’s_ Wife,

With whom thou couldst commit so foul a Crime?

And none but he to bring to publick Shame?

A Man who trusted thee, and lov’d thee too?

--Speak--and if yet thou hast a sense of Virtue,

Call to the Saints for pardon, or thou dy’st.

[She draws a Poniard, and runs at him; he steps back to avoid it.

_Alb._ Hold, _Clarina_!--I am amaz’d.

_Ism._ But stay.

Thou say’st my Beauty forc’d thee to this Wickedness,

And that’s the cause you have abus’d _Antonio_.

--Nor is it all the Power I have with him,

Can make him credit what I tell him of thee;

And should I live, I still must be pursu’d by thee,

And unbeliev’d by him:

--_Alberto_, thou shalt ne’er be guilty more,

Whilst this--and this may meet.

[Offering to wound her self, is stay’d by _Alb._ and _Isab._ They

set _Ism._ in a Chair; _Alb._ kneels weeping.

_Alb._ Hold, my divine _Clarina_.--

_Ant._ Shall I discover my self, or steal away? [Aside.

And all asham’d of Life after this Action,

Go where the Sun or Day may never find me?

Oh! what Virtue I’ve abus’d--

Curse on my little Faith;

And all the Curses Madness can invent,

Light on my groundless Jealousy. [Ex. _Antonio_.

_Alb._ _Clarina_, why so cruel to my Heart?

‘Tis true, I love you, but with as chaste an Ardour,

As Souls departing pay the Deities,

When with incessant Sighs they haste away,

And leave Humanity behind. Oh! so did I

Abandon all the lesser Joys of Life,

For that of being permitted but t’adore ye.

Alas, if ‘twere displeasing to you,

Why did your self encourage it?

I might have languish’d, as I did before,

And hid those Crimes which make you hate me now.

--Oh, I am lost? _Antonio_, thou’st undone me; [He rises in Rage.

--Hear me, Ungrate; I swear by all that’s good,

I’ll wash away my Mischief with thy Blood.

_Isab._ _Antonio_ hears you not, Sir, for he’s departed.

_Ism._ Is _Antonio_ gone?

[She looks pertly up, who before lay half dead.

_Alb._ How’s this, has she but feign’d?

_Ism._ Know it was but feign’d; I hope this proof

Of what I’ve promis’d you, does not displease you.

_Alb._ Am I thus fortunate, thus strangely happy?

_Ism._ Time will confirm it to you--go, do not

Now thank me for’t, but seek _Antonio_ out;

Perhaps he may have too great a Sense of the

Mischiefs his Jealousies had like to have caus’d:

But conjure him to take no notice of what’s past to me;

This easy slight of mine secures our Fears,

And serves to make _Antonio_ confident,

Who now will unbelieve his Eyes and Ears;

And since before, when I was innocent,

He could suspect my Love and Duty too,

I’ll try what my dissembling it will do.

--Go haste.--

_Alb._ Madam, I go, surpriz’d with Love and Wonder. [Ex. _Alb._

_Ism._ You’ll be more surpriz’d, when you know [Aside.

That you are cheated too as well as _Antonio_.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Street.

Enter _Curtius_ disguis’d in a black Peruke and Beard, with

_Pietro_ disguised also.

_Cur._ Well, what hast thou learn’d?

_Piet._ News enough, Sir, but none good;

That the Prince’s Wounds are small,

So that he intends to take the Air this Evening;

That he sollicits _Laura_ hard;

And, Sir, that you are proclaim’d Traitor.

_Cur._ So, what says the Messenger you sent to _Cloris_?

_Piet._ Sir, he brings sad tidings back.

_Cur._ What tidings? is she dead?

That would revive my Soul,

And fortify my easy Nature with some wicked Notions,

As deep as those this flattering Prince made use of,

When he betray’d my Sister, pretty _Cloris_:

--Come, speak it boldly, for nothing else

Will make me do her Justice.

_Piet._ No, Sir, she is not dead,

But fled, and none knows whither;

Only _Guilliam_ attends her.

_Cur._ Worse and worse; but what of _Laura_?

_Piet._ She, Sir, is kept a Prisoner by her Father,

And speaks with none but those that come from _Frederick_.

_Cur._ _Laura_ confin’d too! ‘tis time to hasten then,

With my, till now, almost disarmed Revenge:

--Thus I may pass unknown the Streets of _Florence_,

And find an opportunity to reach this Prince’s Heart,

--Oh, Vengeance! luxurious Vengeance!

Thy Pleasures turn a Rival to my Love,

And make the mightier Conquest o’er my Heart.

--_Cloris_, I will revenge thy Tears and Sufferings;

And to secure the Doom of him that wrong’d thee,

I’ll call on injur’d _Laura_ too.

--Here take these Pictures--and where thou see’st [Gives him Boxes.

A knot of Gallants, open one or two, as if by stealth,

To gaze upon the Beauties, and then straight close them--

But stay, here comes the only Man

I could have wish’d for; he’ll proclaim my Business

Better than a Picture or a Trumpet. [They stand by.

[_Curtius_ takes back the Pictures.

Enter _Lorenzo_ and _Guilliam_ dressed in fineish Clothes, but

the same high-crown’d Hat.

_Lor._ Did, ha, ha, ha, did, ha, ha; did ever any

Mortal Man behold such a Figure as thou art now?

Well, I see ‘tis a damnable thing not to

Be born a Gentleman; the Devil himself

Can never make thee truly jantee now.

--Come, come, come forward; these Clothes become

Thee, as a Saddle does a Sow; why com’st thou not?

--Why--ha, ha, I hope thou hast not

Hansel’d thy new Breeches,

Thou look’st so filthily on’t. [He advances, looking sourly.

_Guil._ No, Sir, I hope I have more manners than so;

But if I should, ‘tis not my fault;

For the necessary Houses are hard

To be met withal here at Court.

_Lor._ Very well, Sirrah; you begin already to be

Witty with the Court: but I can tell you, it has as

Many necessary Places in’t, as any Court in Christendom

--But what a Hat thou hast?

_Guil._ Why, Sir, though I say’t, this is accounted of

In our Village; but I had another but now,

Which I blew off in a high Wind; and I never mist it,

Till I had an occasion to pluck it off to a young

Squire, they call a Lacquey; and, Fegs,

I had none at all: and because I would not lose

My Leg for want of a Hat, I fetch’d this;

And I can tell you, Sir, it has a fashionable Brim.

_Lor._ A Fool’s head of your own, has it not?

The Boys will hoot at us as we pass--hah,

Who be these, who be these-- [Goes towards _Cur._ and _Piet._

_Cur._ Here--this to _Don Alonso_--this to the

_English_ Count; and this you may shew to the

Young _German_ Prince--and this--

I will reserve for higher Prices. [Gives _Piet._ Pictures.

_Piet._ Will you shew none to the Courtiers, Sir?

_Cur._ Away, you Fool, I deal in no such Trash.

_Lor._ How, Sir, how was that? pray how came we to

Gain your dis-favour?

_Cur._ I cry you mercy, Sir, pray what are you;

_Lor._ A Courtier, Sir, I can assure you,

And one of the best Rank too;

I have the Prince’s ear, Sir.

--What have you there, hah?--Pictures? let me see--

What, are they to be bought?

_Cur._ Sir, they are Copies of most fair Originals,

Not to be bought but hired.

_Lor._ Say you so, Friend? the Price, the Price.

_Cur._ Five thousand Crowns a Month, Sir.

_Lor._ The Price is somewhat saucy.

_Cur._ Sir, they be curious Pieces, were never blown upon,

Have never been in Courts, nor hardly Cities.

_Lor._ Upon my word, that’s considerable;

Friend, pray where do they live?

_Cur._ In the _Piazzo_, near the Palace.

_Lor._ Well, put up your Ware, shew not a face of them

Till I return! for I will bring you

The best Chapman in all _Florence_,

Except the Duke himself.

_Cur._ You must be speedy then,

For I to morrow shall be going towards _Rome_.

_Lor._ A subtle Rascal this: thou think’st, I warrant,

To make a better Market amongst the Cardinals.

--But take my word, ne’er a Cardinal of them all

Comes near this Man, I mean, to bring you in

Matters of Beauty--so, this will infallibly make

My Peace again: [Aside.] Look ye, Friend

--Be ready, for ‘tis the Prince, the noble generous _Frederick_,

That I design your Merchant. [Goes out.

_Cur._ Your Servant, Sir,--that is _Guilliam_;

I cannot be mistaken in him, go call him back.

[_Pietro_ fetches him back, who puts on a surly Face.

--Friend, what art thou?

_Guil._ What am I? why, what am I? dost thou not see

What I am? a Courtier, Friend.

_Cur._ But what’s thy Name?

_Guil._ My Name, I have not yet considered.

_Cur._ What was thy Name?

_Guil._ What was my Name?

_Cur._ Yes, Friend, thou hadst one.

_Guil._ Yes, Friend, thou hadst one.

_Cur._ Dog, do’st eccho me? do’st thou repeat?

I say again, what is thy Name? [Shakes him.

_Guil._ Oh horrible!--why, Sir, it was _Guilliam_

When I was a silly Swain.

_Cur._ _Guilliam_--the same;

Didst thou not know a Maid whose name was _Cloris_?

_Guil._ Yes, there was such a Maid,

But now she’s none!

_Cur._ Was such a Maid, but now she’s none!

--The Slave upbraids my Griefs. [Aside.

_Guil._ Yes, Sir, so I said.

_Cur._ So you said!

_Guil._ Why, yes, Sir, what, do you repeat?

_Cur._ What mean you, Sirrah? have you a mind to

Have your Throat cut? tell me where she is.

_Guil._ I dare as well be hang’d.

Now must I devise a lye, or never look _Cloris_

In the Face more. [Aside.

_Cur._ Here’s Gold for thee; I will be secret too.

_Guil._ Oh, Sir, the poor Maid you speak of is dead.

_Cur._ Dead! where dy’d she? and how?

_Guil._ Now am I put to my wits; this ‘tis to begin

In Sin, as our Curate said: I must go on: [Aside.

--Why, Sir, she came into the Wood--and hard by a

River-side--she sigh’d, and she wept full sore;

And cry’d two or three times out upon _Curtius_,

--And--then-- [Howls.

_Cur._ Poor _Cloris_, thy Fate was too severe.

_Guil._ And then as I was saying, Sir,

She leapt into the River, and swam up the Stream. [_Cur._ weeps.

_Piet._ And why up the Stream, Friend?

_Guil._ Because she was a Woman--and that’s all. [Ex. _Guil._

_Cur._ Farewel, and thank thee.

--Poor _Cloris_ dead, and banish’d too from _Laura_!

Was ever wretched Lover’s Fate like mine!

--And he who injures me, has power to do so;

--But why, where lies this Power about this Man?

Is it his Charms of Beauty, or of Wit?

Or that great Name he has acquir’d in War?

Is it the Majesty, that holy something,

That guards the Person of this Demi-god?

This awes not me, there must be something more.

For ever, when I call upon my Wrongs,

Something within me pleads so kindly for him,

As would persuade me that he could not err.

--Ah, what is this? where lies this Power divine,

That can so easily make a Slave of mine?

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. _Frederick’s_ Chamber.

Enter _Frederick_, and _Cloris_ finely dress’d.

_Fred._ ‘Tis much methinks, a Boy of so dejected,

Humble Birth, should have so much of Sense

And Soul about him.

_Clo._ I know not that; but if I have a thought

Above that humble Birth or Education,

It was inspir’d by Love.

_Fred._ Still you raise my Wonder greater;

--Thou a Lover?

_Clo._ Yes, my Lord, though I am young,

I’ve felt the power of Beauty;

And should you look upon the Object, Sir,

Your Wonders soon would cease;

Each Look does even animate Insensibles,

And strikes a reverend Awe upon the Soul:

Nothing is found so lovely.

_Fred._ Thou speak’st prettily, I think Love

Indeed has inspir’d thee.

_Clo._ These were the Flatteries, Sir, she us’d to me;

Of her it was I learn’d to speak, and sigh,

And look, as oft you say, I do on you.

_Fred._ Why then, it seems she made returns?

_Clo._ Ah! Sir, ‘twas I that first was blest,

I first the happy Object was belov’d;

For, ‘twas a Person, Sir, so much above me,--

It had been Sin to’ve rais’d my Eyes to her;

Or by a glance, or sigh, betray my Pain.

But Oh! when with a thousand soft Expressions,

She did encourage me to speak of Love!

--My God! how soon extravagant I grew,

And told so oft the story of my Passion,

That she grew weary of the repeated Tale,

And punish’d my presumption with a strange neglect. [Weeps.

_Fred._ How, my good _Philibert_?

_Clo._ Would suffer me to see her Face no more.

_Fred._ That was pity; without a Fault?

_Clo._ Alas, Sir, I was guilty of no Crime,

But that of having told her how I lov’d her;

For all I had I sacrific’d to her;

--Poor worthless Treasures to any but a Lover;

And such you know accept the meanest things,

Which Love and a true Devotion do present.

When she was present, I found a thousand ways

To let her know how much I was her Slave;

And absent, still invented new ones,

And quite neglected all my little Business;

Counting the tedious Moments of the Day

By Sighs and Tears; thought it an Age to night,

Whose Darkness might secure our happy meeting:

But we shall meet no more on these kind Terms. [Sighs.

_Fred._ Come, do not weep, sweet Youth, thou art too young,

To have thy blooming Cheeks blasted with sorrow;

Thou wilt out-grow this childish Inclination,

And shalt see Beauties here, whose every glance

Kindle new Fires, and quite expel the old.

_Clo._ Oh, never, Sir.

_Fred._ When I was first in love, I thought so too,

But now with equal ardour

I doat upon each new and beauteous Object.

_Clo._ And quite forget the old?

_Fred._ Not so; but when I see them o’er again,

I find I love them as I did before.

_Clo._ Oh God forbid, I should be so inconstant!

No, Sir, though she be false, she has my Heart,

And I can die, but not redeem the Victim.

_Fred._ Away, you little Fool, you make me sad

By this resolve: but I’ll instruct you better.

_Clo._ I would not make you sad for all the World.

Sir, I will sing, or dance, do any thing

That may divert you.

_Fred._ I thank thee, _Philibert_, and will accept

Thy Bounty; perhaps it may allay thy Griefs awhile too.

_Clo._ I’ll call the Musick, Sir. [She goes out.

_Fred._ This Boy has strange agreements in him.

Enter _Cloris_ with Musick.

_She bids them play, and dances a Jig._

This was wondrous kind, my pretty _Philibert_.

[Exeunt Musick.

Enter _Page_.

_Page_. _Lorenzo_, my Lord, begs admittance.

_Fred._ He may come in. [Exit _Page_.

Enter _Lorenzo_.

--Well, _Lorenzo_, what’s the News with thee?

--How goes the price of Beauty, hah?

_Lor._ My Lord, that question is _a propos_ to

What I have to say; this Paper will answer your

Question, Sir-- [Gives him a Paper, he reads.

--Hah, I vow to gad a lovely Youth; [_Lor._ gazes on _Phil._

But what makes he here with _Frederick_?

This Stripling may chance to mar my market of Women now--

‘Tis a fine Lad, how plump and white he is; [Aside.

Would I could meet him somewhere i’th’ dark,

I’d have a fling at him, and try whether I

Were right _Florentine_.

_Fred._ Well, Sir, where be these Beauties?

_Lor._ I’ll conduct you to them.

_Fred._ What’s the Fellow that brings them?

_Lor._ A _Grecian_, I think, or something.

_Fred._ Beauties from _Greece_, Man!

_Lor._ Why, let them be from the Devil,

So they be new and fine, what need we care?

--But you must go to night.

_Fred._ I am not in a very good condition

To make Visits of that kind.

_Lor._ However, see them, and if you like them,

You may oblige the Fellow to a longer stay,

For I know they are handsome.

_Fred._ That’s the only thing thou art judge of;

--Well, go you and prepare them;

And _Philibert_, thou shalt along with me;

I’ll have thy Judgment too.

_Clo._ Good Heaven, how false he is! [Aside.

_Lor._ What time will your Highness come?

_Fred._ Two Hours hence. [Ex. _Fred._

_Lor._ So then I shall have time to have a bout

With this jilting Huswife _Isabella_,

For my Fingers itch to be at her. [Aside. [Ex. _Lorenzo_.

_Clo._ Not know me yet? cannot this Face inform him?

My Sighs, nor Eyes, my Accent, nor my Tale?

Had he one thought of me, he must have found me out.

--Yes, yes, ‘tis certain I am miserable;

He’s going now to see some fresher Beauties,

And I, he says, must be a witness of it;

This gives me Wounds, painful as those of Love:

Some Women now would find a thousand Plots

From so much Grief as I have, but I’m dull;

Yet I’ll to _Laura_, and advise with her,

Where I will tell her such a heavy Tale,

As shall oblige her to a kind concern:

--This may do; I’ll tell her of this Thought,

This is the first of Art I ever thought on;

And if this proves a fruitless Remedy,

The next, I need not study, how to die.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Street.

Enter _Lorenzo_, meets _Guilliam_, who passes by him, and takes

no notice of him.

_Lor._ How now, Manners a few?

_Guil._ I cry you heartily, Sir, I did not see you.

_Lor._ Well, Sirrah, the News.

_Guil._ Sir, the Gentlewoman whom you sent me to says That she’ll meet

you here.

_Lor._ That’s well, thou mayst come to be a States-man In time, thou art

a fellow of so quick dispatch: But hark ye, Sirrah, there are a few

Lessons I must learn you, Concerning Offices of this nature; But another

time for that: but--

[Whispers.

Enter _Isabella_, and _Antonio’s Valet_.

_Isab._ Here he is; and prithee, when thou seest him in My Chamber, go

and tell my Lord, Under pretence of the care you have of the Honour of

his House.

_Val._ I warrant you, let me alone for a Tale, And a Lye at the end

on’t; which shall not over-much Incense him, nor yet make him neglect

coming.

[Ex. _Val._

_Lor._ Oh, are you there, Mistress? what have you now To say for your

last Night’s Roguery? Are not you a Baggage? confess.

_Isab._ You have a mind to lose your opportunity again, As you did last

Night, have ye not? Pray God your own Shadow scare you not, As it did

then; and you will possibly believe No body meant you harm then, nor

now.

_Lor._ Art thou in earnest?

_Isab._ Are you in earnest?

_Lor._ Yes, that I am, and that _Clarina_ shall find, If I once come to

her.

_Isab._ Come, leave your frippery Jests, and come in.

_Lor._ _Guilliam_, be sure you attend me here, And whoever you see, say

nothing; the best on’t is, Thou art not much known.

[_Isab._ and _Lor._ go in.

_Guil._ Well, I see there is nothing but foutering In this Town; wou’d

our _Lucia_ were here too for me, For all the Maids I meet with are so

giglish And scornful, that a Man, as I am, Gets nothing but flouts and

flings from them. Oh, for the little kind Lass that lives Under the

Hill, of whom the Song was made; Which because I have nothing else to

do, I will sing over now; hum, hum.

The Song for _Guilliam_. [To some Tune like him.

_In a Cottage by the Mountain

Lives a very pretty Maid,

Who lay sleeping by a Fountain,

Underneath a Myrtle shade;

Her Petticoat of wanton Sarcenet,

The amorous Wind about did move,

And quite unveil’d,

And quite unveil’d the Throne of Love,

And quite unveil’d the Throne of Love._

’.is something cold, I’ll go take a Niperkin of Wine,

[Goes out.

Enter _Isab._ and _Lor._ above, as frighted into the Balcony.

_Lor._ This was some trick of thine, I will be hang’d else.

_Isab._ Oh, I’ll be sworn you wrong me;

Alas, I’m undone by’t. [_Ant._ at the Door knocks.

_Ant._ Open the Door, thou naughty Woman.

_Lor._ Oh, oh, what shall I do? what shall I do?

_Ant._ Open the Door, I say.

_Lor._ Oh, ‘tis a damnable leap out at this Balcony.

_Isab._ And yet you are a dead Man, if you see him.

_Ant._ Impudence, will you open the Door?

_Isab._ I will, Sir, immediately.

_Lor._ Devise some way to let me down,

Or I will throw thee out; no Ladder of Ropes, no Device?

--If a Man would not forswear Whoring for the future

That is in my condition, I am no true Gentleman.

_Ant._ Open, or I will break the Door.

_Isab._ Hold the Door, and swear lustily that you

Are my Husband, and I will in the mean time

Provide for your safety,

Though I can think of none but the Sheets from the Bed.

[He holds the Door.

_Lor._ Any thing to save my Life;

--Sir, you may believe me upon my Honour,

I am lawful Husband to _Isabella_,

And have no designs upon your House or Honour.

[_Isab._ this while fastens the Sheets, which are to be suppos’d

from the Bed, to the Balcony.

_Ant._ Thou art some Villain.

_Lor._ No, Sir, I am an honest Man, and married lawfully.

_Ant._ Who art thou?

_Lor._ Hast thou done?

_Isab._ Yes, but you must venture hard.

_Isab._ ‘Tis _Lorenzo_, Sir.

_Lor._ A Pox on her, now am I asham’d to all eternity.

_Isab._ Sir, let me beg you’l take his Word and Oath to night,

And to morrow I will satisfy you. [_Lor._ gets down by the Sheets.

_Ant._ Look you make this good,

Or you shall both dearly pay for’t.

_Lor._ I am alive, yes, yes, all’s whole and sound,

Which is a mercy, I can tell you;

This is whoring now: may I turn _Franciscan_,

If I could not find in my heart to do penance

In Camphire Posset, this Month, for this.

--Well, I must to this Merchant of Love,

And I would gladly be there before the Prince:

For since I have mist here,

I shall be amorous enough,

And then I’ll provide for _Frederick_;

For ‘tis but just, although he be my Master,

That I in these Ragousts should be his Taster.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V. Antonio’s House.

Enter _Ismena_ with a Veil.

_Ism._ _Alberto_ is not come yet, sure he loves me;

But ‘tis not Tears, and Knees, that can confirm me;

No, I must be convinc’d by better Argument.

--Deceit, if ever thou a Guide wert made

To amorous Hearts, assist a Love-sick Maid.

Enter _Alberto_.

_Alb._ Your pleasure, Madam?

--Oh that she would be brief,

And send me quickly from her,

For her Eyes will overthrow my purpose. [Aside.

_Ism._ _Alberto_, do you love me?

_Alb._ No.

_Ism._ No! have you deceiv’d me then?

_Alb._ Neither, _Clarina_; when I told you so,

By Heaven, ‘twas perfect Truth.

_Ism._ And what have I done since should

Merit your Dis-esteem?

_Alb._ Nothing but what has rais’d it.

_Ism._ To raise your Esteem, then it seems, is

To lessen your Love; or, as most Gallants are,

You’re but pleas’d with what you have not;

And love a Mistress with great Passion, till you find

Your self belov’d again, and then you hate her.

_Alb._ You wrong my Soul extremely,

‘Tis not of that ungrateful nature;

To love me is to me a greater Charm

Than that of Wit or Beauty.

_Ism._ I’m glad on’t, Sir; then I have pleasant News for you,

I know a Lady, and a Virgin too,

That loves you with such Passion,

As has oblig’d me to become her Advocate.

_Alb._ I am very much oblig’d to her,

If there be any such.

_Ism._ Upon my Life, there is; I am in earnest,

The Lady is my Sister too.

_Alb._ How, _Clarina_, this from you?

_Ism._ Nay, I have promis’d her, that you shall love her too,

Since both her Birth and Beauty merits you.

_Alb._ Away, false Woman: I love your Sister!

No, I will hate ye both.

_Ism._ Why so Angry?

Alas, it is against my Will I do it.

_Alb._ Did you betray my Faith, when ‘twas so easy

To give a credit to your tale of Love?

--Oh Woman, faithless Woman!

_Ism._ _Alberto_, with a world of shame I own

That I then lov’d you, and must do so still:

But since that Love must be accounted criminal,

And that a world of danger does attend it;

I am resolv’d, though I can never quit it,

To change it into kind Esteem for you;

And would ally you, Sir, as near to me,

As our unkind Stars will permit me.

_Alb._ I thank you, Madam: Oh, what a shame it is,

To be out-done in Virtue, as in Love!

_Ism._ Another favour I must beg of you,

That you will tell _Antonio_ what is past.

_Alb._ How mean you, Madam?

_Ism._ Why, that I love you, Sir,

And how I have deceiv’d him into confidence.

_Alb._ This is strange; you cannot mean it sure.

_Ism._ When I intend to be extremely good,

I would not have a secret Sin within,

Though old, and yet repented too: no, Sir,

Confession always goes with Penitence.

_Alb._ Do you repent you that you lov’d me then?

_Ism._ Not so; but that I did abuse _Antonio_.

_Alb._ And can you think that this will cure his Jealousy?

_Ism._ Doubtless it will, when he knows how needless ‘tis;

For when they’re most secure, they’re most betray’d:

Besides, I did but act the part he made;

And Ills he forces, sure he’ll not upbraid.

Go seek out _Antonio_.

_Alb._ You have o’ercome me, Madam, every way,

And this your last Command I can obey;

Your Sister too I’ll see, and will esteem,

But you’ve my Heart, which I can ne’er redeem.

[Exeunt severally.

ACT V.

SCENE I. _Laura’s_ Chamber.

Enter _Laura_ and _Cloris_ like a Boy, as before.

_Lau._ Forward, dear _Cloris_.

_Clo._ And, Madam, ‘twas upon a Holyday,

It chanc’d Prince _Frederick_ came into our Village,

On some reports were made him of my Beauty,

Attended only by the noble _Curtius_:

They found me in the Church at my Devotion,

Whom _Frederick_ soon distinguished from the rest;

He kneel’d down by me, and instead of Prayer,

He fell to praise--but ‘twas my Beauty only;

--That I could tell you, of my strange surprize!

My Zeal was all disordered, and my Eyes

Fed on the false, not real Sacrifice.

--I wanted Art my Sentiments to hide,

Which from my Eyes and Blushes soon he spy’d.

_Lau._ And did you know him then?

_Clo._ Not till he left me:

--But, to be short, Madam, we parted there;

But e’er he went he whisper’d in my ear,

And sigh’d, Ah, _Cloris_! e’er you do depart,

Tell me, where ‘tis you will dispose my Heart?

--Pray give me leave to visit it again,

Your Eyes that gave can only ease my Pain.

I, only blushing, gave him my consent;

He paid his Thanks in Sighs, and from me went.

That night, alas, I took but little rest; }

The new and strange Disorder in my Breast }

Can, Madam, only by your self be guest. }

_Lau._ I’ll not deny that I’m a Lover too,

And can imagine what was felt by you.

_Clo._ No sooner did the welcome Day appear,

But _Lucia_ brought me word the Prince was there;

His very Name disorder’d me much more,

Than did his Sight or Touch the day before;

So soon my rising Love grew up to power,

So soon he did become my Conqueror.

--How pale and trembling, when he did appear,

I grew, he too had marks of Love and Fear.

--But I’ll omit the many visits paid,

Th’ unvalued Presents, and the Oaths he made,

My kind Disputes on all his Letters writ,

How all my Doubts were answer’d by his Wit;

How oft he vow’d to marry me, whilst I

Durst not believe the pleasing Perjury:

--And only tell you, that one night he came,

Led by designs of an impatient Flame;

When all the House was silently asleep,

Except my self, who Love’s sad Watch did keep;

Arm’d with his Ponyard, and his Breast all bare,

His Face all pale with restless Love and Fear;

So many wild and frantick things he said,

And so much Grief and Passion too betray’d,

So often vow’d he’d finish there his Life,

If I refus’d him to become his Wife;

That I half-dying, said it should be so;

Which though I fear’d, Oh, how I wish’d it too!

Both prostrate on the Ground i’th’ face of Heaven,

His Vows to me, and mine to him were given:

--And then, oh, then, what did I not resign!

With the assurance that the Prince was mine. [Weeps.

_Lau._ Poor _Cloris_, how I pity thee!

Since Fate has treated me with equal rigor;

--_Curtius_ is banish’d, _Frederick_ still pursues me,

And by a cruel Father I’m confin’d,

And cannot go to serve my self or thee. [One knocks.

_Lor._ [Without.] Sister _Laura_, Sister.

_Lau._ It is my Brother, would he would be kind,

And set us free; he shall not see thee,

And I’ll persuade him.

[As she puts _Cloris_ into her Closet, enter _Lorenzo_ with a

Letter.

_Lor._ Hah, locking her Closet! now, were I a right

_Italian_, should I grow jealous, and enrag’d at

I know not what: hah, Sister!

What are you doing here?

Open your Cabinet, and let me see’t.

_Lau._ Sir, ‘tis in disorder, and not worth your seeing now.

_Lor._ ‘Tis so, I care not for that, I’ll see’t.

_Lau._ Pray do not, Brother.

_Lor._ Your denial makes me the more inquisitive.

_Lau._ ‘Tis but my saying, he came from the Prince,

And he dares not take it ill. [Aside.

--Here, Sir, [Gives him the Key.

_Lor._ And here’s for you too; a Letter from _Curtius_,

And therefore I would not open it: I took it up

At the Post-house. [She reads, and seems pleas’d.

Now if this should prove some surly Gallant of hers,

And give me a slash o’er the Face for peeping

I were but rightly serv’d;

And why the Devil should I expect my Sister should

Have more Virtue than my self?

She’s the same flesh and blood: or why, because

She’s the weaker Vessel,

Should all the unreasonable burden of the Honour

Of our House, as they call it,

Be laid on her Shoulders, whilst we may commit

A thousand Villanies? but ‘tis so--

Here, open the Door;

I’ll put her before me, however.

[She opens the Door, and brings out _Cloris_.

_Lau._ Sir, ‘tis _Philibert_ from the Prince.

_Lor._ Why, how now, Youngster, I see you intend

To thrive by your many Trades;

So soon, so soon, i’faith? but, Sirrah,

This is my Sister, and your Prince’s Mistress;

Take notice of that.

_Clo._ I know not what you mean.

_Lor._ Sir, you cannot deceive me so;

And you were right serv’d, you would be made fit

For nothing but the great _Turk’s Seraglio_.

_Clo._ You mistake my business, Sir.

_Lor._ Your Blushes give you the lye, Sirrah;

But for the Prince’s sake, and another reason I have,

I will pardon you for once.

_Lau._ He has not done a fault, and needs it not.

_Lor._ Was he not alone with thee?

And is not that enough? Well, I see I am no _Italian_

In Punctillio’s of honourable Revenge.

There is but one experiment left to prove my self so;

And if that fail, I’ll e’en renounce my Country.

--Boy, harkye,--there is a certain kindness

You may do me, and get your pardon for being found here.

_Clo._ You shall command me any thing.

_Lor._ Prithee how long hast thou been set up for thy self, Hah?

_Clo._ As how, Sir?

_Lor._ Poh, thou understand’st me.

_Clo._ Indeed I do not, Sir; what is’t you mean?

_Lor._ A smooth-fac’d Boy, and ask such a Question?

Fy, fy, this Ignorance was ill counterfeited

To me that understand the World.

_Clo._ Explain your self, Sir.

_Lor._ Lookye, ten or twenty Pistoles will do you

No hurt, will it?

_Clo._ Not any, Sir.

_Lor._ Why, so, ‘tis well any thing will make thee

Apprehend.

_Clo._ I shall be glad to serve you, Sir, without that fee.

_Lor._ That’s kindly said--

I see a Man must not be too easy of belief: had I been so,

This Boy would have been at, what d’ye mean, Sir?

And, Lord, I understand you not.

Well, _Philibert_, here’s earnest to bind the Bargain;

I am now in haste; when I see thee next,

I’ll tell thee more. [_Lorenzo_ whispers to _Laura_.

_Clo._ This ‘tis to be a Favourite now;

I warrant you I must do him some good office to the Prince,

Which I’ll be sure to do.

_Lor._ Nay, it must be done, for she has us’d me basely;

Oh, ‘tis a Baggage.

_Lau._ Let me alone to revenge you on _Isabella_,

Get me but from this Imprisonment.

_Lor._ I will: whilst I hold the old Man in a dispute,

Do you two get away; but be sure thou pay’st her home.

_Lau._ I warrant you, Sir, this was happy;

Now shall I see _Curtius_.

_Lor._ _Philibert_, I advise you to have a care of

Wenching: ‘twill spoil a good Face,

And mar your better market of the two. [Ex. _Lor._

_Lau._ Come, let us haste, and by the way, I’ll tell thee

Of a means that may make us all happy.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Grove.

Enter _Alberto_ melancholy.

_Alb._ _Antonio_ said he would be here,

I’m impatient till he come--

Enter _Antonio_.

_Ant._ _Alberto_, I have such a Project for thee!

_Alb._ Hah-- [Gazes.

_Ant._ What ails thee, art thou well?

_Alb._ No.

_Ant._ Where art thou sick?

_Alb._ At Heart, _Antonio_, poison’d by thy Jealousy;

--Oh, thou hast ruin’d me, undone my Quiet,

And from a Man of reasonable Virtue,

Hast brought me to a wild distracted Lover.

_Ant._ Explain your self.

_Alb._ Thou’st taught me, Friend, to love _Clarina_;

Not, as I promis’d thee, to feign, but so,

That I, unless I do possess that Object,

I think must die; at best be miserable.

_Ant._ How, Sir, have I done this?

_Alb._ Yes, Antonio, thou hast done this.

_Ant._ My dear _Alberto_, said you that you lov’d her?

_Alb._ Yes, _Antonio_, against my will I do;

As much against my will, as when I told her so;

Urg’d by thy needless Stratagem.

_Ant._ Name it no more, it was an idle Fault,

Which I do so repent me,

That if you find I should relapse again,

Kill me, and let me perish with my Weakness:

And were that true you tell me of your Passion,

Sure I should wish to die, to make you happy.

_Alb._ That’s kindly said, and I submit to you,

And am content to be out-done in Amity.

_Ant._ Yes, I’ll resign my Claims, and leave the World;

_Alberto_, ‘tis unkind to think I would be happy

By ways must ruin you:

But sure you tell me this, but only to afflict me.

_Alb._ ‘Tis truth, _Antonio_, I do love _Clarina;_

And, what is yet far worse for thy repose,

Believe my self so bless’d to be belov’d.

_Ant._ How, to be belov’d by her!

--Oh dire effects of Jealousy!

_Alb._ All that you saw to day was only feign’d,

To let you see, that even your Eyes and Ears

Might be impos’d upon.

_Ant._ Can it be possible!

_Alb._ And now she thinks she is enough reveng’d;

And lets you know, in her feign’d Scorn to me,

That all your Sleights and Cunnings are but vain:

She has deceiv’d them all, and by that Art,

Gives you a Confidence, and me a Heart.

_Ant._ I must confess, it is but just in her

To punish thus the Errors of my Fear;

I do forgive her, from my Soul I do.

--But, Sir, what satisfaction’s this to you?

_Alb._ _Clarina_ happy, I’ll from Court retire,

And by that Absence quench my Hopeless Fire:

War I will make my Mistress, who may be,

Perhaps, more kind than she has been to me;

Where though I cannot conquer, ‘twill allow

That I may die; that’s more than this will do.

_Ant._--Why did you, Sir, betray my Weakness to her?

Though ‘twas but what I did deserve from you.

_Alb._ By all that’s good, she knew the Plot before,

From _Isabella_, who it seems o’erheard us,

When you once press’d me to’t:

And had we wanted Virtue, thoud’st been lost.