Bel.That's well thought on: He shall about it immediately. immediately.We will attempt the mistress by the maid:Women by women still are best betrayed.[Exeunt.
Bel.That's well thought on: He shall about it immediately. immediately.We will attempt the mistress by the maid:Women by women still are best betrayed.[Exeunt.
EnterWildblood,Bellamy,andMaskall.
Wild.Did you speak with her woman?
Mask.Yes, but she was in haste, and bid me wait her hereabouts when she returned.
Bel.Then you have discovered nothing more?
Mask.Only, in general, that Donna Theodosia is engaged elsewhere; so that all your courtship will be to no purpose—But for your mistress, sir, [ToWild.] she is waded out of her depth in love to you already.
Wild.That's very hard, when I am scarce knee-deep with her: 'Tis true, I have given her hold of my heart; but, if she take not heed, it will slip through her fingers.
Bel.You are prince of the soil, sir, and may take your pleasure when you please; but I am the eve to your holiday, and must fast for being joined to you.
Wild.Were I as thou art, I would content myself with having but one fair flight at her, without wearying myself on the wing for a retrieve; for, when all is done, the quarry is but a woman.
Bel.Thank you, sir, you would fly them both yourself; and while I turn tail, we should have you come, gingling with your bells in the neck of my partridge. Do you remember who encouraged me to love, and promised me his assistance?
Wild.Ay, while there was hope, Frank! while there was hope! but there's no contending with one's destiny.
Bel.Nay, it may be I care as little for her as another man; but, while she flies before me, I must follow: I can love a woman first with ease; but if she begins to fly before me, I growopiniatreas the devil.
Wild.What a secret have you found out? Why, 'tis the nature of all mankind: We love to get our mistresses, and purr over them, as cats do over mice, and let them go a little way; and all the pleasure is, to pat them back again: But yours, I take it, Frank, is gone too far. Pr'ythee, how long dost thou intend to love at this rate?
Bel.Till the evil constellation be past over me: Yet, I believe, it would hasten my recovery, if I knew whom she loved.
Mask.You shall not be long without that satisfaction.
Wild.'St, the door opens; and two women are coming out.
Bel.By their stature, they should be thy gracious mistress and Beatrix.
Wild.Methinks you should know your cue then, and withdraw.
Bel.Well, I'll leave you to your fortune; but, if you come to close fighting, I shall make bold to run in, and part you.[BellamyandMaskall,withdrawing.
Wild.Yonder she comes, with full sails i'faith! I'll hail her amain, for England.
EnterJacinthaandBeatrix,at the other end of the stage.
Beat.You do love him then?
Jac.Yes, most vehemently!
Beat.But set some bounds to your affection.
Jac.None but fools confine their pleasure: What usurer ever thought his coffers held too much? No, I'll give myself the swing, and love without reserve. If I keep a passion, I'll not starve it in my service.
Beat.But are you sure he will deserve this kindness?
Jac.I never trouble myself so long beforehand. Jealousies and disquiets are the dregs of an amour; but I'll leave mine before I have drawn it off so low. When it once grows troubled, I'll give vent to a fresh draught.
Beat.Yet it is but prudence to try him first; no pilot ventures on an unknown coast without sounding.
Jac.Well, to satisfy thee, I am content; partly, too, because I find a kind of pleasure in laying baits for him.
Beat.The two great virtues of a lover are constancy and liberality; if he possess those two, you may be happy in him.
Jac.Nay, if he be not lord and master of both those qualities, I disown him——But who goes there?
Beat.He, I warrant you, madam; for his servant told me he was waiting hereabout.
Jac.Watch the door; give me notice, if any come.
Beat.I'll secure you, madam.[ExitBeat.
Jac.[ToWild.] What, have you laid an ambush for me?
Wild.Only to make a reprisal of my heart.
Jac.'Tis so wild, that the lady, who has it in her keeping, would be glad she were well rid on't, it does so flutter about the cage. 'Tis a mere Bajazet; and if it be not let out the sooner, will beat out its brains against the grates.
Wild.I am afraid the lady has not fed it, and 'tis wild for hunger.
Jac.Or, perhaps it wants company; shall she put another to it?
Wild.Ay; but then it were best to trust them out of the cage together; let them hop about at liberty.
Jac.But, if they should lose one another in the wide world!
Wild.They'll meet at night, I warrant them.
Jac.But is not your heart of the nature of those birds, that breed in one country, and go to winter in another?
Wild.Suppose it does so; yet, I take my mate along with me. And now, to leave our parables, and speak in the language of the vulgar, what think you of a voyage to merry England?
Jac.Just as Æsop's frog did, of leaping into a deep well in a drought: If he ventured the leap, there might be water; but, if there were no water, how should he get out again?
Wild.Faith, we live in a good honest country, where we are content with our old vices; partly because we want wit to invent more new.A colony of Spaniards, or spiritual Italians, planted among us, would make us much more racy. 'Tis, true, our variety is not much; but, to speak nobly of our way of living, 'tis like that of the sun, which rises, and looks upon the same thing he saw yesterday, and goes to bed again.
Jac.But I hear your women live most blessedly; there is no such thing as jealousy among the husbands; if any man has horns, he bears them as loftily as a stag, and as inoffensively.
Wild.All this, I hope, gives you no ill character of the country?
Jac.But what need we go into another climate? as our love was born here, so let it live and die here, and be honestly buried in its native country.
Wild.Faith, agreed with all my heart. For I am none of those unreasonable lovers, that propose to themselves the loving to eternity. The truth is, a month is commonly my stint; but, in that month, I love so dreadfully, that it is after a twelve-month's rate of common love.
Jac.Or, would not a fortnight serve our turn? for, in troth, a month looks somewhat dismally; 'tis a whole Egyptian year. If a moon changes in my love, I shall think my Cupid grown dull, or fallen into an apoplexy.
Wild.Well, I pray heaven we both get off as clear as we imagine; for my part, I like your humour so damnably well, that I fear I am in for a week longer than I proposed: I am half afraid your Spanish planet and my English one have been acquainted, and have found out some by-room or other in the twelve houses: I wish they have been honourable.
Jac.The best way for both were to take up in time; yet I am afraid our forces are engaged so far, that we must make a battle on't.What think you of disobliging one another from this day forward; and shewing all our ill humours at the first, which lovers use to keep as a reserve, till they are married?
Wild.Or let us encourage one another to a breach, by the dangers of possession: I have a song to that purpose.
Jac.Pray let me hear it: I hope it will go to the tune of one of ourPassa-calles.
SONG.
You charmed me not with that fair face,Though it was all divine;To be another's is the grace,That makes me wish you mine.The gods and fortune take their part,Who, like young monarchs, fight,And boldly dare invade that heart,Which is another's right.First, mad with hope, we undertakeTo pull up every bar;But, once possessed, we faintly makeA dull defensive war.Now, every friend is turned a foe,In hope to get our store:And passion make us cowards grow,Which made us brave before.
You charmed me not with that fair face,Though it was all divine;To be another's is the grace,That makes me wish you mine.The gods and fortune take their part,Who, like young monarchs, fight,And boldly dare invade that heart,Which is another's right.First, mad with hope, we undertakeTo pull up every bar;But, once possessed, we faintly makeA dull defensive war.Now, every friend is turned a foe,In hope to get our store:And passion make us cowards grow,Which made us brave before.
Jac.Believe it, cavalier, you are a dangerous person: Do you hold forth your gifts, in hopes to make me love you less?
Wild.They would signify little, if we were once married: Those gaieties are all nipt and frost-bitten in the marriage-bed, i'faith.
Jac.I am sorry to hear 'tis so cold a place: But 'tis all one to us, who do not mean to trouble it. The truthis, your humour pleases me exceedingly; how long it will do so, I know not; but so long as it does, I am resolved to give myself the content of seeing you. For, if I should once constrain myself, I might fall in love in good earnest: But I have stayed too long with you, and would be loth to surfeit you at first.
Wild.Surfeit me madam? why, you have but tantalized me all this while!
Jac.What would you have?
Wild.A hand, or lip, or any thing that you can spare; when you have conjured up a spirit, he must have some employment, or he'll tear you apieces.
Jac.Well, here's my picture, to help your contemplation in my absence.
Wild.You have already the original of mine: But some revenge you must allow me: A locket of diamonds, or some such trifle, the next time I kiss your hand.
Jac.Fie, fie! you do not think me mercenary? Yet, now I think on't, I'll put you into our Spanish mode of love: Our ladies here use to be the bankers of their servants, and to have their gold in keeping.
Wild.This is the least trial you could have made of me: I have some three hundred pistoles by me; those I'll send by my servant.
Jac.Confess freely, you mistrust me: But if you find the least qualm about your gold, pray keep it for a cordial.
Wild.The cordial must be applied to the heart, and mine's with you, madam. Well; I say no more; but these are dangerous beginnings for holding on: I find my month will have more than one-and-thirty days in't.
EnterBeatrix,running.
Beat.Madam, your father calls in haste for you, and is looking for you about the house.
Jac.Adieu, servant; be a good manager of your stock of love, that it may hold out your month; I am afraid you'll waste so much of it before to-morrow night, that you'll shine but with a quarter moon upon me.
Wild.It shall be a crescent.[ExeuntWild.andJac.severally.[Beatrixis going, andMaskallruns and stops her.
Mask.Pay your ransom; you are my prisoner.
Beat.What! do you fight after the French fashion; take towns before you declare a war?
Mask.I shall be glad to imitate them so far, to be in the middle of the country before you could resist me.
Beat.Well, what composition, monsieur?
Mask.Deliver up your lady's secret; what makes her so cruel to my master?
Beat.Which of my ladies, and which of your masters? For, I suppose, we are factors for both of them.
Mask.Your eldest lady, Theodosia.
Beat.How dare you press your mistress to an inconvenience?
Mask.My mistress? I understand not that language; the fortune of the valet ever follows that of the master; and his is desperate: if his fate were altered for the better, I should not care if I ventured upon you for the worse.
Beat.I have told you already, Donna Theodosia loves another.
Mask.Has he no name?
Beat.Let it suffice, he is born noble, though without a fortune. His poverty makes him conceal his love from her father; but she sees him every night in private; and, to blind the world, about a fortnight ago he took a solemn leave of her, as if he were going into Flanders: In the mean time, he lodges at the house of Don Lopez de Gamboa; and is himself called Don Melchor de Guzman.
Mask.Don Melchor de Guzman! O heavens!
Beat.What amazes you?
Theo.[Within.] Why, Beatrix, where are you?
Beat.You hear I am called.—Adieu; and be sure you keep my counsel.
Mask.Come, sir, you see the coast is clear.[ExitBeat.
EnterBellamy.
Bel.Clear, dost thou say? No, 'tis full of rocks and quicksands: Yet nothing vexes me so much, as that she is in love with such a poor rogue.
Mask.But that she should lodge privately in the same house with us! 'twas oddly contrived of fortune.
Bel.Hang him, rogue! methinks I see him, perching, like an owl, by day, and not daring to flutter out till moonlight. The rascal invents love, and brews his compliments all day, and broaches them at night; just as some of our dry wits do their stories, before they come into company. Well, if I could be revenged on either of them!
Mask.Here she comes again, with Beatrix; but, good sir, moderate your passion.
EnterTheodosiaandBeatrix.
Bel.Nay, madam; you are known; and must not pass till I have spoken with you.[Bel.lifts upTheodosia'sveil.
Theo.This rudeness to a person of my quality may cost you dear. Pray, when did I give you encouragement for so much familiarity?
Bel.When you scorned me in the chapel.
Theo.The truth is, I denied you as heartily as I could, that I might not be twice troubled with you.
Bel.Yet you have not this aversion for all the world: However, I was in hope, though the day frowned, the night might prove as propitious to me as it is to others.
Theo.I have now a quarrel both to the sun and moon, because I have seen you both by their lights.
Bel.Spare the moon, I beseech you, madam; she is a very trusty planet to you.
Beat.O, Maskall, you have ruined me!
Mask.Dear sir, hold yet!
Bel.Away!
Theo.Pray, sir, expound your meaning; for, I confess, I am in the dark.
Bel.Methinks you should discover it by moonlight. Or, if you would have me speak clearer to you, give me leave to wait on you at a midnight assignation; and, that it may not be discovered, I'll feign a voyage beyond sea, as if I were going a captaining to Flanders.
Mask.A pox on his memory! he has not forgot one syllable!
Theo.Ah, Beatrix! you have betrayed and sold me!
Beat.You have betrayed and sold yourself, madam, by your own rashness to confess it; heaven knows I have served you but too faithfully.
Theo.Peace, impudence! and see my face no more!
Mask.Do you know what work you have made, sir?
Bel.Let her see what she has got by slighting me.
Mask.You had best let Beatrix be turned away for me to keep: If you do, I know whose purse shall pay for't.
Bel.That's a curse I never thought on: Cast about quickly, and save all yet. Range, quest, and spring a lie immediately!
Theo. [ToBeat.] Never importune me farther; you shall go; there's no removing me.
Beat.Well; this is ever the reward of innocence——[Going.
Mask.Stay, guiltless virgin, stay; thou shalt not go!
Theo.Why, who should hinder it?
Mask.That will I, in the name of truth,—if this hard-bound lie would but come from me.[Aside.Madam, I must tell you it lies in my power to appease this tempest with one word.
Beat.Would it were come once!
Mask.Nay, sir, 'tis all one to me, if you turn me away upon't; I can hold no longer.
Theo.What does the fellow mean?
Mask.For all your noddings, and your mathematical grimaces—in short, madam, my master has been conversing with the planets; and from them has had the knowledge of your affairs.
Bel.This rogue amazes me!
Mask.I care not, sir, I am for truth; that will shame you, and all your devils: In short, madam, this master of mine, that stands before you, without a word to say for himself, so like an oaf, as I might say, with reverence to him——
Bel.The rascal makes me mad!
Mask.Is the greatest astrologer in Christendom.
Theo.Your master an astrologer?
Mask.A most profound one.
Bel.Why, you dog, you do not consider what an improbable lie this is; which, you know, I can never make good! Disgorge it, you cormorant! or I'll pinch your throat out.——[Takes him by the throat.
Mask.'Tis all in vain, sir! you are, and shall be an astrologer, whatever I suffer; you know all things; see into all things; foretell all things; and if you pinch more truth out of me, I will confess you are a conjurer.
Bel.How, sirrah! a conjurer?
Mask.I mean, sir, the devil is in your fingers: Own it—you had best, sir, and do not provoke me farther. [While he is speaking,Bellamystops his mouth by fits.] What! did not I see you an hour ago turning over a great folio, with strange figures in it, and then muttering to yourself, like any poet; and then naming Theodosia, and then staring up in the sky, and then poring upon the ground; so that, betwixt God and the devil, madam, he came to know your love.
Bel.Madam, if ever I knew the least term in astrology, I am the arrantest son of a whore breathing.
Beat.O, sir, for that matter, you shall excuse my lady: Nay, hide your talents if you can, sir.
Theo.The more you pretend ignorance, the more we are resolved to believe you skilful.
Bel.You'll hold your tongue yet.[ToMask.
Mask.You shall never make me hold my tongue, except you conjure me to silence: What! did you not call me to look into a crystal, and there shewed me a fair garden, and a Spaniard stalking in his narrow breeches, and walking underneath a window? I should know him again amongst a thousand.
Beat.Don Melchor, in my conscience, madam.
Bel.This rogue will invent more stories of me, than e'er were fathered upon Lilly!
Mask.Will you confess, then? do you think I'll stain my honour to swallow a lie for you?
Bel.Well, a pox on you, I am an astrologer.
Beat.O, are you so, sir?
Theo.I hope then, learned sir, as you have been curious in enquiring into my secrets, you will be so much a cavalier as to conceal them.
Bel.You need not doubt me, madam; I am more in your power than you can be in mine: Besides, if I were once known in town, the next thing, for aught I know, would be to bring me before the fathers of the inquisition.
Beat.Well, madam, what do you think of me now? I have betrayed you, I have sold you! how can you ever make me amends for this imputation? I did not think you could have used me so——[Cries, and claps her hands at her.
Theo.Nay, pr'ythee, Beatrix, do not cry; I'll leave off my new gown to-morrow, and thou shalt have it.
Beat.No, I'll cry eternally! you have taken away my good name from me; and you can never make me recompence——except you give me your new gorget too.
Theo.No more words; thou shalt have it, girl.
Beat.O, madam, your father has surprised us!
EnterDon Alonzo,and frowns.
Bel.Then, I'll begone, to avoid suspicion.
Theo.By your favour, sir, you shall stay a little; the happiness of so rare an acquaintance ought to be cherished on my side by a longer conversation.
Alon.Theodosia, what business have you with this cavalier?
Theo.That, sir, which will make you as ambitious of being known to him as I have been: Under the habit of a gallant, he conceals the greatest astrologer this day living.
Alon.You amaze me, daughter!
Theo.For my own part, I have been consulting with him about some particulars of my fortunes past and future; both which he has resolved me with that admirable knowledge——
Bel.Yes, faith, sir, I was foretelling her of a disaster that severely threatened her: And—one thing I foresee already by my stars, that I must bear up boldly, or I am lost.[Aside.
Mask.[ToBel.] Never fear him, sir; he's an ignorant fellow, and credulous, I warrant him.
Alon.Daughter, be not too confident in your belief; there's nothing more uncertain than the old prophecies of these Nostradamusses; but of what nature was the question which you asked him?
Theo.What should be my fortune in marriage.
Alon.And, pray, what did you answer, sir?
Bel.I answered her the truth, that she is in danger of marrying a gentleman without a fortune.
Theo.And this, sir, has put me in such a fright—
Alon.Never trouble yourself about it, daughter; follow my advice, and I warrant you a rich husband.
Bel.But the stars say she shall not follow your advice: If it happens otherwise, I'll burn my folio volumes, and my manuscripts too, I assure you that, sir.
Alon.Be not too confident, young man; I know somewhat in astrology myself; for, in my younger years, I studied it; and, though I say it, made some small proficiency in it.
Bel.Marry, heaven forbid!——[Aside.
Alon.And I could only find it was no way demonstrative, but altogether fallacious.
Mask.On what a rock have we split ourselves!
Bel.Now my ignorance will certainly come out!
Beat.Sir, remember you are old and crazy, sir; and if the evening air should take you——beseech you, sir, retire.
Alon.Knowledge is to be preferred before health; I must needs discuss a point with this learned cavalier, concerning a difficult question in that art, which almost gravels me.
Mask.How I sweat for him, Beatrix, and myself too, who have brought him into thispræmunire!
Beat.You must be impudent; for our old man will stick like a burr to you, now he's in a dispute.
Alon.What judgment may a man reasonably form from the trine aspect of the two infortunes in angular houses?
Bel.That's a matter of nothing, sir; I'll turn my man loose to you for such a question.[PutsMaskallforward.
Alon.Come on, sir. I am the quærent.
Mask.Meaning me, sir! I vow to God, and your worship knows it, I never made that science my study in the least, sir.
Bel.The gleanings of mine are enough for that: Why, you impudent rogue you, hold forth your gifts, or I'll—What a devil, must I be pestered with every trivial question, when there's not a master in town of any science, but has his usher for these mean offices?
Theo.Try him in some deeper question, sir; you see he will not put himself forth for this.
Alon.Then I'll be more abstruse with him: What think you, sir, of the taking Hyleg? or of the best way of rectification for a nativity? Have you been conversant in the Centiloquium of Trismegistus: What think you of Mars in the tenth, when 'tis his own house, or of Jupiter configurated with malevolent planets?
Bel.I thought what your skill was! to answer your question in two words, Mars rules over the martial, and Jupiter over the jovial; and so of the rest, sir.
Alon.This every school-boy could have told me.
Bel.Why then you must not ask such school-boy's questions. But your carcase, sirrah, shall pay for this.[Aside toMaskall.
Alon.You seem not to understand the terms, sir.
Bel.By your favour, sir, I know there are five of them; do not I know your Michaelmas, your Hillary, your Easter, your Trinity, and your Long Vocation term, sir?
Alon.I do not understand a word of this jargon.
Bel.It may be not, sir; I believe the terms are not the same in Spain they are in England.
Mask.Did one ever hear so impudent an ignorance?
Alon.The terms of art are the same every where.
Bel.Tell me that! you are an old man, and they are altered since you studied them.
Alon.That may be, I must confess; however, if you please to discourse something of the art to me, you shall find me an apt scholar.
Enter a Servant toAlonzo.
Ser.Sir——[Whispers.
Alon.Sir, I am sorry a business of importance calls me hence; but I'll wait on you some other time, to discourse more at large of astrology.
Bel.Is your business very pressing?
Alon.It is, I assure you, sir.
Bel.I am very sorry, for I should have instructed you in such rare secrets! I have no fault, but that I am too communicative.
Alon.I'll dispatch my business, and return immediately; come away, daughter.[ExeuntAlon.Theo.Beat.and Serv.
Bel.A devil on his learning; he had brought me to my last legs; I was fighting as low as ever was 'Squire Widdrington.
Mask.Who would have suspected it from that wicked elder?
Bel.Suspected it? why 'twas palpable from his very physiognomy; he looks like Haly, and the spirit Fircue in the fortune-book.
EnterWildblood.
Wild.How now, Bellamy! in wrath! pr'ythee, what's the matter?
Bel.The story is too long to tell you; but this rogue here has made me pass for an arrant fortune-teller.
Mask.If I had not, I am sure he must have passed for an arrant mad man; he had discovered, in a rage, all that Beatrix had confessed to me concerning her mistress's love; and I had no other way to bring him off, but to say he knew it by the planets.
Wild.And art thou such an oaf to be vexed at this? as the adventure may be managed, it may make the most pleasant one in all the carnival.
Bel.Death! I shall have all Madrid about me in these two days.
Wild.Nay, all Spain, i'faith, as fast as I can divulgethee: Not a ship shall pass out from any port, but shall ask thee for a wind; thou shalt have all the trade of Lapland within a month.
Bel.And do you think it reasonable for me to stand defendant to all the impertinent questions, that the town can ask me?
Wild.Thou shalt do't, boy: Pox on thee, thou dost not know thine own happiness; thou wilt have the ladies come to thee; and if thou dost not fit them with fortunes, thou art bewitched.
Mask.Sir, 'tis the easiest thing in nature; you need but speak doubtfully, or keep yourself in general terms, and, for the most part, tell good rather than bad fortune.
Wild.And if at any time thou venturest at particulars, have an evasion ready like Lilly; as thus,—It will infallibly happen, if our sins hinder not.—I would undertake, with one of his almanacks, to give very good content to all Christendom, and what good luck fell not out in one kingdom, should in another.
Mask.The pleasure on't will be to see how all his customers will contribute to their own deceiving; and verily believe he told them that, which they told him.
Bel.Umph! now I begin to taste it; I am like the drunken tinker in the play, a great prince, and never knew it.
Wild.A great prince! a great Turk; we shall have thee, within these two days, do grace to the ladies, by throwing out a handkerchief; 'life, I could feast upon thy fragments.
Bel.If the women come, you shall be sure to help me to undergo the burden; for, though you make me an astronomer, I am no Atlas, to bear all upon my back. But who are these?
Enter Musicians, with disguises; and some in their hands.
Wild.You know the men, if their masking habits were off; they are the music of our ambassador's retinue. My project is to give our mistress a serenade, this being the last evening of the carnival; and, to prevent discovery, here are disguises for us too.
Bel.'Tis very well; come, Maskall, help on with them, while they tune their instruments.
Wild.Strike up, gentlemen; we'll entertain them with a songa l'Angloise; pray, be ready with your chorus.
SONG.
After the pangs of a desperate lover,When day and night I have sighed all in vain;Ah, what a pleasure it is to discoverIn her eyes pity, who causes my pain!When, with unkindness, our love at a stand is,And both have punished ourselves with the pain;Ah, what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!Ah, what a pleasure to press it again!When the denial comes fainter and fainter,And her eyes give what her tongue does deny;Ah, what a trembling I feel, when I venture!Ah, what a trembling does usher my joy!When, with a sigh, she accords me the blessing,And her eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain;Ah, what a joy 'tis, beyond all expressing!Ah, what a joy to hear—shall we again!
After the pangs of a desperate lover,When day and night I have sighed all in vain;Ah, what a pleasure it is to discoverIn her eyes pity, who causes my pain!When, with unkindness, our love at a stand is,And both have punished ourselves with the pain;Ah, what a pleasure the touch of her hand is!Ah, what a pleasure to press it again!When the denial comes fainter and fainter,And her eyes give what her tongue does deny;Ah, what a trembling I feel, when I venture!Ah, what a trembling does usher my joy!When, with a sigh, she accords me the blessing,And her eyes twinkle 'twixt pleasure and pain;Ah, what a joy 'tis, beyond all expressing!Ah, what a joy to hear—shall we again!
TheodosiaandJacinthaabove.Jacinthathrows down her handkerchief, with a favour tied to it.
Jac.Ill musicians must be rewarded: There, cavalier, 'tis to buy your silence.[Exeunt women from above.
Wild.By this light, which at present is scarce an oath, an handkerchief, and a favour![Music andguitarstuning on the other side of the Stage.
Bel.Hark, Wildblood! do you hear? There's more melody: On my life, some Spaniards have taken up this post for the same design.
Wild.I'll be with their catguts immediately.
Bel.Pr'ythee, be patient; we shall lose the sport else.
DonLopezandDonMelchordisguised, with Servants and Musicians on the other side.
Wild.'Tis some rival of yours or mine, Bellamy; for he addresses to this window.
Bel.Damn him, let's fall on then.
[The two Spaniards and the English fight: The Spaniards are beaten off the Stage; the Musicians on both sides, and Servants, fall confusedly one over the other. They all get off, onlyMaskallremains upon the ground.
[The two Spaniards and the English fight: The Spaniards are beaten off the Stage; the Musicians on both sides, and Servants, fall confusedly one over the other. They all get off, onlyMaskallremains upon the ground.
Mask.[Rising.] So all's past, and I am safe: A pox on these fighting masters of mine, to bring me into this danger, with their valours and magnanimities. When I go a-serenading again with them, I'll give them leave to make fiddle-strings of my small-guts.
To him DonLopez.
Lop.Who goes there?
Mask.'Tis Don Lopez, by his voice.
Lop.The same; and, by yours, you should belong to my two English guests. Did you hear no tumult hereabouts?
Mask.I heard a clashing of swords, and men a fighting.
Lop.I had my share in't; but how came you here?
Mask.I came hither by my master's order, to see if you were in any danger.
Lop.But how could he imagine I was in any?
Mask.'Tis all one for that, sir; he knew it, by——Heaven, what was I a going to say! I had like to have discovered all!
Lop.I find there is some secret in't, and you dare not trust me.
Mask.If you will swear on your honour to be very secret, I will tell you.
Lop.As I am a cavalier, and by my beard, I will.
Mask.Then, in few words, he knew it by astrology, or magic.
Lop.You amaze me! Is he conversant in the occult sciences?
Mask.Most profoundly.
Lop.I always thought him an extraordinary person; but I could never imagine his head lay that way.
Mask.He shewed me yesterday, in a glass, a lady's maid at London, whom I well knew; and with whom I used to converse on a pallet in a drawing-room, while he was paying his devotions to her lady in the bed-chamber.
Lop.Lord, what a treasure for a state were here! and how much might we save by this man, in foreign intelligence!
Mask.And just now he shewed me, how you were assaulted in the dark by foreigners.
Lop.Could you guess what countrymen?
Mask.I imagined them to be Italians.
Lop.Not unlikely; for they played most furiously at our backsides.
Mask.I will return to my master with the good news of your safety; but once again be secret; or disclose it to none but friends.—So, there's one woodcock more in the springe.——[Exit.
Lop.Yes, I will be very secret; for I will tell it only to one person; but she is a woman. I will to Aurelia, and acquaint her with the skill of this rare artist: She is curious, as all women are; and, 'tis probable, will desire to look into the glass to see Don Melchor, whom she believes absent; so that by this means, without breaking my oath to him, he will be discovered to be in town. Then his intrigue with Theodosia will come to light too, for which Aurelia will, I hope, discard him, and receive me. I will about it instantly:
Success, in love, on diligence depends;No lazy lover e'er attained his ends.[Exit.
EnterBellamyandMaskall.
Bel.Then, they were certainly Don Lopez and Don Melchor, with whom we fought.
Mask.Yes, sir.
Bel.And when you met Lopez, he swallowed all you told him?
Mask.As greedily, as if it had been a new saint's miracle.
Bel.I see 'twill spread.
Mask.And the fame of it will be of use to you in your next amour; for the women, you know, run mad after fortune-tellers and preachers.
Bel.But for all my bragging, this amour is not yet worn off. I find constancy, and once a night, come naturally upon a man towards thirty; only we set a face on't, and call ourselves inconstant for our reputation.
Mask.But what say the stars, sir?
Bel.They move faster than you imagine; for I have got me an argol, and an English almanack, by help of which, in one half hour, I have learned to cant with an indifferent good grace: Conjunction, opposition, trine, square, and sextile, are now no longer bugbears to me, I thank my stars for't.
EnterWildblood.
Monsieur Wildblood, in good time! What, you have been taking pains, too, to divulge my talent?
Wild.So successfully, that shortly there will be no talk in town, but of you only: Another miracle or two, and a sharp sword, and you stand fair for a new prophet.
Bel.But where did you begin to blow the trumpet?
Wild.In the gaming-house, where I found most of the town-wits; the prose-wits playing, and the verse-wits rooking.
Bel.All sorts of gamesters are so superstitious, that I need not doubt of my reception there.
Wild.From thence I went to the latter end of a comedy, and there whispered it to the next man I knew, who had a woman by him.
Mask.Nay, then, it went like a train of powder, if once they had it by the end.
Wild.Like a squib upon a line, i'faith; it ran through one row, and came back upon me in the next. At my going out I met a knot of Spaniards, who were formally listening to one, who was relating it; but he told the story so ridiculously, with his marginal notes upon it, that I was forced to contradict him.
Bel.'Twas discreetly done.
Wild.Ay, for you, but not for me: What, says he, must such Boracho's as you take upon you to vilify a man of science? I tell you, he's of my intimate acquaintance, and I have known him long for a prodigious person.—When I saw my Don so fierce, I thought it not wisdom to quarrel for so slight a matter as your reputation, and so withdrew.
Bel.A pox of your success! now shall I have my chamber besieged to-morrow morning: There will be no stirring out for me; but I must be fain to take up their questions in a cleft-cane, or a begging-box, as they do charity in prisons.
Wild.Faith, I cannot help what your learning has brought you to. Go in and study; I foresee you will have but few holidays: In the mean time, I'll not fail to give the world an account of your endowments. Farewell: I'll to the gaming-house.[ExitWild.
Mask.O, sir, here is the rarest adventure, and, which is more, come home to you!
Bel.What is it?
Mask.A fair lady, and her woman, wait in the outer room to speak with you.
Bel.But how know you she is fair?
Mask.Her woman plucked up her veil when she spoke to me; so that having seen her this evening, I know her mistress to be Donna Aurelia, cousin to your mistress Theodosia, and who lodges in the same house with her: She wants a star or two, I warrant you.
Bel.My whole constellation is at her service: But what is she for a woman?
Mask.Fair enough, as Beatrix has told me; but sufficiently impertinent. She is one of those ladies, who make ten visits in anafternoon; and entertain her they see, with speaking ill of the last, from whom they parted: In few words, she is one of the greatest coquettes in Madrid; and to shew she is one, she cannot speak ten words without some affected phrase that is in fashion.
Bel.For my part, I can suffer any impertinence from a woman, provided she be handsome: My business is with her beauty, not with her morals; let her confessor look to them.
Mask.I wonder what she has to say to you?
Bel.I know not; but I sweat for fear I should be gravelled.
Mask.Venture out of your depth, and plunge boldly, sir; I warrant you will swim.
Bel.Do not leave me, I charge you; but when I look mournfully upon you, help me out.
EnterAureliaandCamilla.
Mask.Here they are already.[Aur.plucks up her veil.
Aur.How am I dressed to-night, Camilla? is nothing disordered in my head?
Cam.Not the least hair, madam.
Aur.No! let me see: Give me the counsellor of the graces.
Cam.The counsellor of the graces, madam!
Aur.My glass, I mean: What, will you never be so spiritual as to understand refined language?
Cam.Madam!
Aur.Madam me no madam, but learn to retrench your words; and say ma'am; as, yes ma'am, and no ma'am, as other ladies' women do. Madam! 'tis a year in pronouncing.
Cam.Pardon me, madam.
Aur.Yet again, ignorance! Par-don, madam! fie, fie, what a superfluity is there, and how much sweeter the cadence is—parnme, ma'am! and for your ladyship, your la'ship.—Out upon't, what a furious indigence of ribbands is here upon my head! This dress is a libel to my beauty; a mere lampoon. Would any one, that had the least revenue of common sense, have done this?
Cam.Ma'am, the cavalier approaches your la'ship.
Bel.toMask.Maskall, pump the woman; and see if you can discover any thing to save my credit.
Aur.Out upon it! now I should speak, I want assurance.
Bel.Madam, I was told you meant to honour me with your commands.
Aur.I believe, sir, you wonder at my confidence in this visit; but I may be excused for waving a little modesty, to know the only person of the age.
Bel.I wish my skill were more, to serve you, madam.
Aur.Sir, you are an unfit judge of your own merits: For my own part, I confess, I have a furious inclination for the occult sciences; but at present, 'tis my misfortune——[Sighs.
Bel.But why that sigh, madam?
Aur.You might spare me the shame of telling you; since I am sure you can divine my thoughts: I will, therefore, tell you nothing.
Bel.What the devil will become of me now![Aside.
Aur.You may give me an essay of your science, by declaring to me the secret of my thoughts.
Bel.If I know your thoughts, madam, 'tis in vain for you to disguise them to me: Therefore, as you tender your own satisfaction, lay them open without bashfulness.
Aur.I beseech you let us pass over that chapter; for I am shame-faced to the last point. Since, therefore, I cannot put off my modesty, succour it, and tell me what I think.
Bel.Madam, madam, that bashfulness must be laid aside: Not but that I know your business perfectly; and will, if you please, unfold it to you all immediately.
Aur.Favour me so far, I beseech you, sir; for I furiously desire it.
Bel.But then I must call up before you a most dreadful spirit, with head upon head, and horns upon horns: Therefore, consider how you can endure it.
Aur.This is furiously furious; but rather than fail of my expectances, I'll try my assurance.
Bel.Well then, I find you will force me to this unlawful, and abominable act of conjuration: Remember the sin is yours too.
Aur.I espouse the crime also.
Bel.I see, when a woman has a mind to't, she'll never boggle at a sin. Pox on her, what shall I do? [Aside.]—Well, I'll tell you your thoughts, madam; but after that expect no farther service from me; for 'tis your confidence must make my art successful.——Well, you are obstinate, then; I must tell you your thoughts?
Aur.Hold, hold, sir; I am content to pass over that chapter, rather than be deprived of your assistance.
Bel.'Tis very well; what need these circumstances between us two? Confess freely; is not love your business?
Aur.You have touched me to the quick, sir.
Bel.Look you there! you see I knew it; nay, I'll tell you more, 'tis a man you love.
Aur.O prodigious science! I confess I love a man most furiously, to the last point, sir.
Bel.Now proceed, lady, your way is open; I am resolved, I'll not tell you a word farther.
Aur.Well then, since I must acquaint you with what you know much better than myself, I will tell you. I loved a cavalier, who was noble, young, and handsome; this gentleman is since gone for Flanders; now whether he has preserved his passion inviolate, or not, is that which causes my inquietude.
Bel.Trouble not yourself, madam; he's as constant as a romance hero.
Aur.Sir, your good news has ravished me most furiously; but that I may have a confirmation of it, I beg only, that you would lay your commands upon his genius, or idea, to appear to me this night, that I may have my sentence from his mouth. This, sir, I know is a slight effect of your science, and yet will infinitely oblige me.
Bel.What the devil does she call a slight effect! [Aside.]—Why, lady, do you consider what you say? you desire me to shew you a man, whom yourself confess to be in Flanders.
Aur.To view him in a glass is nothing; I would speak with him in person, I mean his idea, sir.
Bel.Ay, but, madam, there is a vast sea betwixt us and Flanders; and water is an enemy to conjuration. A witch's horse, you know, when he enters into water, returns into a bottle of hay again.
Aur.But, sir, I am not so ill a geographer, or, to speak more properly, a chorographer, as not to know there is a passage by land from hence to Flanders.
Bel.That's true, madam; but magic works in a direct line. Why should you think the devil such an ass to go about? 'Gad, he'll not stir a step out of his road for you, or any man.
Aur.Yes, for a lady, sir; I hope he's a person thatwants not that civility for a lady; especially a spirit that has the honour to belong to you, sir.
Bel.For that matter, he's your servant, madam; but his education has been in the fire, and he's naturally an enemy to water, I assure you.
Aur.I beg his pardon, for forgetting his antipathy; but it imports not much, sir; for I have lately received a letter from my servant, that he is yet in Spain, and stays for a wind in St Sebastian's.
Bel.Now I am lost, past all redemption.—Maskall, must you be smickering after wenches, while I am in calamity?[Aside.
Mask.It must be he, I'll venture on't. [Aside.]—Alas, sir, I was complaining to myself of the condition of poor Don Melchor, who, you know, is wind-bound at St Sebastian's.
Bel.Why, you impudent villain, must you offer to name him publicly, when I have taken so much care to conceal him all this while?
Aur.Mitigate your displeasure, I beseech you; and, without making farther testimony of it, gratify my expectances.
Bel.Well, madam, since the sea hinders not, you shall have your desire. Look upon me with a fixed eye——so——or a little more amorously, if you please——good. Now favour me with your hand.
Aur.Is it absolutely necessary you should press my hand thus?
Bel.Furiously necessary, I assure you, madam; for now I take possession of it in the name of the idea of Don Melchor. Now, madam, I am farther to desire of you, to write a note to his genius, wherein you desire him to appear, and this we men of art call a compact with the ideas.
Aur.I tremble furiously.
Bel.Give me your hand, I'll guide it.[They write.
Mask. to Cam.Now, lady mine, what think you of my master?
Cam.I think, I would not serve him for the world: Nay, if he can know our thoughts by looking on us, we women are hypocrites to little purpose.
Mask.He can do that and more; for, by casting his eyes but once upon them, he knows whether they are maids, better than a whole jury of mid-wives.
Cam.Now heaven defend me from him!
Mask.He has a certain small familiar, which he carries still about him, that never fails to make discovery.
Cam.See, they have done writing; not a word more, for fear he knows my voice.
Bel.One thing I had forgot, madam; you must subscribe your name to it.
Aur.There 'tis; farewell, cavalier, keep your promise, for I expect it furiously.
Cam.If he sees me, I am undone.[Hiding her face.
Bel.Camilla!
Cam.[starts and shrieks.] Ah, he has found me; I am ruined!
Bel.You hide your face in vain; for I see into your heart.
Cam.Then, sweet sir, have pity on my frailty; for if my lady has the least inkling of what we did last night, the poor coachman will be turned away.[Exit after her Lady.
Mask.Well, sir, how like you your new profession?
Bel.Would I were well quit on't; I sweat all over.
Mask.But what faint-hearted devils yours are, that will not go by water! Are they all Lancashire devils, of the brood of Tybert and Grimalkin, that they dare not wet their feet?
Bel.Mine are honest land devils, good plain foot-posts, that beat upon the hoof for me: But to save their labour, here take this, and in some disguise deliver it to Don Melchor.
Mask.I'll serve it upon him within this hour, when he sallies out to his assignation with Theodosia: 'Tis but counterfeiting my voice a little; for he cannot know me in the dark. But let me see, what are the words?
Reads.]Don Melchor, if the magic of love have any power upon your spirit, I conjure you to appear this night before me: You may guess the greatness of my passion, since it has forced me to have recourse to art; but no shape which resembles you can frightAurelia.
Reads.]Don Melchor, if the magic of love have any power upon your spirit, I conjure you to appear this night before me: You may guess the greatness of my passion, since it has forced me to have recourse to art; but no shape which resembles you can frightAurelia.
Bel.Well, I am glad there's one point gained; for, by this means, he will be hindered to-night from entertaining Theodosia.—Pox on him, is he here again?
Enter DonAlonzo.
Alon.Cavalier Inglis, I have been seeking you: I have a present in my pocket for you; read it by your art, and take it.
Bel.That I could do easily: But, to shew you I am generous, I'll none of your present; do you think I am mercenary?
Alon.I know you will say now 'tis some astrological question; and so 'tis perhaps.
Bel.Ay, 'tis the devil of a question, without dispute.
Alon.No, 'tis within dispute: 'Tis a certain difficulty in the art; a problem, which you and I will discuss, with the arguments on both sides.
Bel.At this time I am not problematically given; I have a humour of complaisance upon me, and will contradict no man.
Alon.We'll but discuss a little.
Bel.By your favour, I'll not discuss; for I see by the stars, that, if I dispute to-day, I am infallibly threatened to be thought ignorant all my life after.
Alon.Well then, we'll but cast an eye together upon my eldest daughter's nativity.
Bel.Nativity!——
Alon.I know what you would say now, that there wants the table of direction for the five hylegiacalls; the ascendant,medium coeli, sun, moon, and stars: But we'll take it as it is.
Bel.Never tell me that, sir——
Alon.I know what you would say again, sir——
Bel.'Tis well you do, for I'll be sworn I do not.——[Aside.
Alon.You would say, sir——
Bel.I say, sir, there is no doing without the sun and moon, and all that, sir; and so you may make use of your paper for your occasions. Come to a man of art without the sun and moon, and all that, sir——[Tears it.
Alon.'Tis no matter; this shall break no squares betwixt us. [Gathers up the torn papers.] I know what you would say now, that men of parts are always choleric; I know it by myself, sir.[He goes to match the papers.
Enter DonLopez.
Lop.Don Alonzo in my house! this is a most happy opportunity to put my other design in execution; for, if I can persuade him to bestow his daughter on Don Melchor, I shall serve my friend, though against his will; and, when Aurelia sees she cannot be his, perhaps she will accept my love.
Alon.I warrant you, sir, 'tis all pieced right, both top, sides, and bottom; for, look you, sir, here was Aldeboran, and there Cor Scorpii——
Lop.Don Alonzo, I am happy to see you under my roof; and shall take it——
Alon.I know what you would say, sir; that though I am your neighbour, this is the first time I have been here.—[ToBellamy.] But, come, sir, by Don Lopez' permission, let us return to our nativity.
Bel.Would thou wert there, in thy mother's belly again![Aside.
Lop.But, sennor——[ToAlonzo.
Alon.It needs not, sennor; I'll suppose your compliment; you would say, that your house, and all things in it, are at my service.—But let us proceed, without this interruption.
Bel.By no means, sir; this cavalier is come on purpose to perform the civilities of his house to you.
Alon.But, good sir——
Bel.I know what you would say, sir.[ExeuntBellamyandMaskall.
Lop.No matter, let him go, sir. I have long desired this opportunity, to move a suit to you in the behalf of a friend of mine, if you please to allow me the hearing of it.
Alon.With all my heart, sir.
Lop.He is a person of worth and virtue, and is infinitely ambitious of the honour——
Alon.Of being known to me; I understand you, sir.
Lop.If you will please to favour me with your patience, which I beg of you a second time.
Alon.I am dumb, sir.
Lop.This cavalier, of whom I was speaking, is in love——
Alon.Satisfy yourself, sir, I'll not interrupt you.
Lop.Sir, I am satisfied of your promise.
Alon.If I speak one syllable more, the devil take me! Speak when you please.
Lop.I am going, sir.
Alon.You need not speak twice to me to be silent: Though I take it somewhat ill of you to be tutored.
Lop.This eternal old man will make me mad.[Aside.
Alon.Why, when do you begin, sir? How long must a man wait for you? Pray make an end of what you have to say quickly, that I may speak in my turn too.
Lop.This cavalier is in love——
Alon.You told me that before, sir; do you speak oracles, that you require this strict attention? Either let me share the talk with you, or I am gone.
Lop.Why, sir, I am almost mad to tell you, and you will not suffer me.
Alon.Will you never have done, sir? I must tell you, sir, you have tattled long enough; and 'tis now good manners to hear me speak. Here's a torrent of words indeed; a veryimpetus dicendi; will you never have done?
Lop.I will be heard in spite of you.
[This next speech ofLopez,and the next ofAlonzo's,with both their replies, are to be spoken at one time, both raising their voices by little and little, till they bawl, and come up close to shoulder one another.
[This next speech ofLopez,and the next ofAlonzo's,with both their replies, are to be spoken at one time, both raising their voices by little and little, till they bawl, and come up close to shoulder one another.
Lop.There's one Don Melchor de Guzman, a friend and acquaintance of mine, that is desperately in love with your eldest daughter Donna Theodosia.
Alon.[At the same time.] 'Tis the sentence of a philosopher,Loquere ut te videam; speak, that I may know thee; now, if you take away the power of speaking from me—[Both pause a little; then speak together again.
Lop.I'll try the language of the law; sure the devil cannot out-talk that gibberish.—For this Don Melchor, of Madrid aforesaid, as premised, I request, move, and supplicate, that you would give, bestow, marry, and give in marriage, this your daughter aforesaid, to the cavalier aforesaid.—Not yet, thou devil of a man! thou shalt be silent.[ExitLopezrunning.
Alon.[At the same time withLopez'slast speech, and afterLopezis run out.] Oh, how I hate, abominate, detest, and abhor, these perpetual talkers, disputants, controverters, and duellers of the tongue! But, on the other side, if it be not permitted to prudent men to speak their minds, appositely, and to the purpose, and in few words; if, I say, the prudent must be tongue-tied, then let great nature be destroyed; let the order of all things be turned topsy-turvy; let the goose devour the fox; let the infants preach to their great-grandsires; let the tender lamb pursue the wolf, and the sick prescribe to the physician; let fishes live upon dry land, and the beasts of the earth inhabit in the water; let the fearful hare—
EnterLopezwith a bell, and rings it in his ears.
Alon.Help, help, murder, murder, murder![ExitAlonzo,running.
Lop.There was no way but this to be rid of him.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.Sir, there are some women without in masquerade, and, I believe, persons of quality, who are come to play here.