Mar. But is’t not wondrous, that amongst all these Crouds we should not once seeFillamour? I thought the Charms of a fair young Curtezan might have oblig’d him to some Curiosity at least.
Cor. Ay! and anEnglishCavalier too, a Nation so fond of all new Faces.
Mar. Heaven, if I should never see him, and I frequent all publick Places to meet him! or if he be gone fromRome, if he have forgot me, or some other Beauty have employ’d his Thoughts!
Cor. Why; if all these if’s and or’s come to pass, we have no more to do than to advance in this same glorious Profession, of which now we only seem to be—in which, to give it its due, there are a thousand Satisfactions to be found, more than in a dull virtuous Life: Oh, the world of Dark-Lanthorn-Men we should have! the Serenades, the Songs, the Sighs, the Vows, the Presents, the Quarrels, and all for a Look or a Smile, which you have been hitherto so covetous of, thatPetroswears our Lovers begin to suspect us for some honest Jilts; which by some is accounted much the leuder scandal of the two:—therefore I think, faith, we must e’en be kind a little to redeem our Reputations.
Mar. However we may railly, certainly there’s nothing so hard to Woman, as to expose her self to villainous Man.
Cor. Faith, Sister, if ‘twere but as easy to satisfy the nice scruples of Religion and Honour, I should find no great Difficulty in the rest— Besides, another Argument I have, our Mony’s all gone, and without a Miracle can hold out no longer honestly.
Mar. Then we must sell our Jewels.
Cor. When they are gone, what Jewel will you part with next?
Mar. Then we must—
Cor. What, go home toViterbo, ask the old Gentleman pardon, and be receiv’d to Grace again, you to the Embraces of the amiableOctavio, and I to St.Teresa’s, to whistle through a Grate like a Bird in a Cage,—for I shall have little heart to sing.—But come, let’s leave This sad talk, here’s Men—let’s walk and gain new Conquest, I love it dearly— [Walk down the Garden.
EnterGall. Fill,andJul.see the Women.
Gal. Women! and by their garb for our purpose too—they’re Curtezans, let’s follow ‘em.
Fil. What shall we get by gazing but Disquiet? If they are fair and honest, we look, and perhaps may sigh in vain; if beautiful and loose, they are not worth regarding.
Gal. Dear notional Knight, leave your satirical Fopperies, and be at least good-humour’d, and let’s follow them.
Jul. I’ll leave you in the Pursuit, and take this Opportunity to write my Uncle word of my Arrival; and wait on you here anon.
Fil. Prithee do so: hah, who’s that with such an Equipage?
[ExitJulio, Fil.andGal.going after. MarcellaandCor.meet just entring, LaurawithSilvio, Antonio,and her Equipage, drest like a Man.
Gal. Pox, let the Tradesmen ask, who cringe for such gay Customers, and follow us the Women!
[ExitFil.andGal.down the Scene, Lau.looking after ‘em.
Lau. ‘Tis he, my Cavalier, my Conqueror:Antonio, let the Coaches wait,—and stand at distance all: Now,Silvio, on thy Life forget my Sex and Quality, forget my useless name ofLaura Lucretia, and call me Count of—
Sil. What, Madam?
Lau. Madam! ah, foolish Boy, thy feminine Courage will betray us all:— but—call me Count—Sans Coeur.—And tell me,Silvio, how is it I appear? How dost thou like my Shape—my Face and Dress? My Mien and Equipage, may I not pass for Man? Looks iten Princeand Masculine?
Sil. Now as I live, you look all over what you wish, and such as will beget a Reverence and Envy in the Men, and Passion in the Women. But what’s the Cause of all this Transformation?
Lau. Love! Love! dull Boy, cou’dst thou not guess ‘twas Love? that dearEngleseI must enjoy, mySilvio.
Sil. What, he that adores the fair young Curtezan?
Lau. That very he; my Window joins to hers, and ‘twas with Charms.Which he’ad prepar’d for her, he took this Heart,Which met the welcome Arrows in their flight,And sav’d her from their Dangers.Oft I’ve return’d the Vows he’as made to her,And sent him pleas’d away;When through the errors of the Night, and distance,He has mistook me for that happy Wanton,And gave me Language of so soft a Power,As ne’er was breath’d in vain to listning Maids.
Sil. But with Permission, Madam, how does this Change of Petticoat for Breeches, and shifting Houses too, advance that Love?
Lau. This Habit, besides many Opportunities ‘twill give me of getting into his acquaintance, secures me too from being known by any of my Relations inRome: then I have changed my House for one so near to that ofSilvianetta’s, and so like it too, that even you and I have oft mistook the entrance: by which means Love, Fortune or Chance, may with my Industry contrive some kind Mistake that may make me happier than the rest of Womankind.
Sil. But what shall be reserv’d then for CountJulio, whose last Letters promise his Arrival within a Day or two, and whom you’re then to marry?
Lau. Reserv’d for him! a Wife! a Wife, mySilvio, That unconcern’d domestick Necessary, Who rarely brings a Heart, or takes it soon away.—
Sil. But then your Brother, CountOctavio, do you not fear his Jealousy?
Lau.Octavio!Oh, Nature has set his Soul and mine at odds, And I can know no Fear but where I love.
Sil. And then that thing which Ladies call their Honour.—
Lau. Honour, that hated Idol, even by thoseThat set it up to worship! No,I have a Soul, my Boy, and that’s all Love;And I’ll the Talent which Heaven lent improve.
[Going out, meetsMarcellaandCorneliafollow’d byGal.andFil.
Sil. Here be the Curtezans, my Lord.
Lau. Hah,SilvianettaandEuphemia! pursu’d too by my Cavalier! I’ll round the Garden, and mix my self amongst ‘em. [Exit withSilvioand her Train.
Mar. Prithee, Sister, let’s retire into the Grove, to avoid the Pursuit of these Cavaliers.
Cor. Not I, by these killing Eyes! I’ll stand my ground were there a thousand, all arm’d with conquering Beauty.
Mar. Hah—now on my Conscience yonder’sFillamour.
Cor. Hah!Fillamour!
Mar. My Courage fails me at the sight of him—I must retire.
Cor. And I’ll to my Art of Love.
[Mar.retires, and leans against a Tree,Cor.walks about reading.
Gal. ‘Tis she, ‘tisSilvianetta: Prithee advance, that thou mayst behold her, and renounce all honest Women; since in that one young Sinner there are Charms that wou’d excuse even to thee all frailty.
Fil. The Forms of Angels cou’d not reconcile me To Women of her Trade.
Gal. This is too happy an Opportunity, to be lost in convincing thy Singularity,—
[Gal.goes bowing by the side ofCornelia. Fil.walks about in the Scene.
—If Creatures so fair and charming as your self, had any need of Prayer,I shou’d believe by your profound Attention you were at your Evening’sDevotion.
Cor. That you may find your Mistake in the opinion of my Charms, pray believe I am so, and ought not to be interrupted.
Gal. I hope a Man may have leave to make his Devotions by you, at least without Danger or Offence.
Cor. I know not that, I have reason to fear your Devotion may be ominous; like a blazing Star, it comes but seldom,—but ever threatens mischief—Pray Heaven, I share not in the Calamity.
Gal. Why, I confess, Madam, my Fit of Zeal does not take me often; but when it does, ‘tis very harmless and wondrous hearty.—
Cor. You may begin then, I shall not be so wicked as to disturb you Orisons.
Gal. Wou’d I cou’d be well assur’d of that, for mine’s Devotion of great Necessity, and the Blessing I pray for infinitely concerns me; therefore in Christian Charity keep down your Eyes, and do not ruin a young Man’s good Intentions, unless they wou’d agree to send kind Looks, and save me the expence of Prayer.
Cor. Which wou’d be better laid out, you think, upon some other Blessing.
Gal. Why, faith, ‘tis good to have a little Bank upon occasion, though I hope I shall have no great need here-after,—if the charmingSilvianettabe but kind, ‘tis all I ask of Heaven.
Cor. You’re very well acquainted with my Name, I find.
Gal. Your Name! ‘tis all I have to live on!Like chearful Birds, ‘tis the first Tune I sing,To welcome in the Day:The Groves repeat it, and the Fountains purle it,And every pretty Sound that fills my Ear.Turns all toSilvianetta.
[Fil.looks awhile onMarcella.
Fil. Galliard, look there—look on that lovely Woman; ‘tisMarcella, the beautifulMarcella.
[Offers to run to her, Gal.holds him.
Gal. Hold!Marcella! where?
Fil. That Lady there; didst ever see her equal?
Gal. Why, faith, as you say,Harry, that Lady is beautiful—and, make us thankful—kind: why, ‘tisEuphemia, Sir, the very Curtezan I wou’d have shew’d you.—
Fil. Forbear, I am not fit for Mirth.
Gal. Nor I in Humour to make you merry; I tell ye—yonder Woman—is a Curtezan.
Fil. Do not profane, nor rob Heaven of a Saint.
Gal. Nor you rob Mankind of such a Blessing, by giving it to Heaven before its time.—I tell thee ‘tis a Whore, a fine desirable expensive Whore.
Fil. By Heaven, it cannot be! I’ll speak to her, and call her myMarcella, and undeceive thy leud Opinion. [Offers to go, he holds him.
Gal. Do, salute her in good Company for an honest Woman—do, and spoil her Markets:—’twill be a pretty civil spiteful Compliment, and no doubt well taken;—come, I’ll convince ye, Sir. [Goes and pullsPhilippa. —Harkye, thou kind Help meet for Man—thou gentle Child of Night—what is the Price of a Night or two ot Pleasure with yonder Lady—Euphemia, I mean, that Roman Curtezan—
Fil. Oh, Heavens! a Curtezan!
Phil. Sure you’re a great Stranger inRome, that cannot tell her Price.
Gal. I am so; name it, prithee, here’s a youngEnglishPurchaser— Come forward, Man, and cheapen for your self— [Pulls him.
Phil. Oh, spare your pains, she wants no Customers.— [Flings away.
Fil. No, no, it cannot, must not beMarcella;She has too much Divinity about her,Not to defend her from all Imputation,Scandal wou’d die to hear her Name pronounc’d.
Phil. Believe me, Madam, he knows you not; I over-heard all he said to that Cavalier, and find he’s much in love.
Mar. Not know me, and in love! punish him, Heaven, for his Falshood: but I’ll contribute to deceive him on, and ruin him with Perjury.
Fil. I am not yet convinc’d, I’ll try her farther. [Goes to her bowing.]—But, Madam, is that heavenly Beauty purchasable? I’ll pay a Heart, rich with such Wounds and Flames—
Gal. Not forgetting the Money too, good Lad, or your Wounds and Flames will be of little Use. [Gal.goes toCornelia.
Mar. He tells you Truth, Sir, we are not like the Ladies of your Country, who tire out their Men with loving upon the square, Heart for Heart, till it becomes as dull as Matrimony: to Women of our Profession there’s no Rhetorick like ready Money, nor Billet-deux like Bills of Exchange.
Fil. Oh! that Heaven shou’d make two Persons so resembling, and yet such different Souls. [Looks on her.—’Sdeath, how she darts me through with every Look! But if she speak, she heals the Wound again.
EnterOctavio,with Followers.
Oct. Hah, my RivalFillamourhere! fall on—draw, Sir,—and say, I gave you one Advantage more, and fought thee fairly.
[Draws onFil.who fights him out; the Ladies run off: Gal.falls on the Followers, with whom whilst he is engaged, entersJulio, _draws and assists him, and Lauraat the same time on the other side. EnterPetrodrest like a Civility-Master; SirSignaland Tickletext: Sir_ Signalclimbs a Tree, Tickruns his Head into a Bush, and lies on his Hands and Knees. Pet. assists_ Gal.and fights out the Bravoes. Pet.re-enters.
Lau. Hah, my Cavalier engag’d amongst the Slaves!
Pet. My Lady’s Lovers! and set upon byOctavio! We must be diligent in our Affairs; SirSignal, where are ye? SigniorTickletext.—I hope they have not miscarried in the fray.
SirSig. Oh,vos Servitor, vos Signiora; miscarried! no, the Fool has Wit enough to keep out of harm’s way. [Comes down from the Tree.
Pet. Oh, very discreetly done, Signior.— [SeesTick,in a bush, pulls him out by the heels.
SirSig. Why, how now, Governour, what, afraid of Swords?
Tick. No, Sir, I am not afraid of Swords, but I am afraid of Danger.
EnterGal.embracingLaura;after ‘em, JulioandFil. Fil.looks about.
Gal. This Bravery, Sir, was wondrous.
Lau. ‘Twas only Justice, Sir, you being opprest with odds.
Fil. She’s gone, she’s gone in Triumph with my Soul.
Jul. What was the matter, Sir? how came this Mischief?
Fil. Oh, easily, Sir; I did but look, and infinitely loved.
Jul. And therefore were you drawn upon, or was it some old Pique?
Fil. I know not, Sir, Oh, tell me not of Quarrels. The Woman, Friend, the Woman has undone me.
Gal. Oh, a blessed Hearing! I’m glad of the Reformation: Sir, you were so squeamish, forsooth, that a Whore wou’d not down with ye; no, ‘twou’d spoil your Reputation.—
Fil. A Whore! wou’d I cou’d be convinc’d she were so; ‘twou’d call my Virtue home, and make me Man again.
Gal. Thou ly’st—thou’rt as weak a Brother as the best of us, and believe me,Harry, these sort of Damsels are like Witches, if they once get hold of a Man, he’s their own till the Charm be ended; you guess what that is, Sir?
Fil. Oh,Frank, hadst thou then felt how tenderly she prest my Hand in hers, as if she wou’d have kept it there for ever, it wou’d have made thee mad, stark mad in Love!—and nothing butMarcellacou’d have charm’d me. [Aside.
Gal. Ay, Gad, I’ll warrant thee,—well, thou shalt this Night enjoy her.
Fil. How?
Gal. How! why, faith,Harry, e’en the old way, I know no other. Why, thou shalt lie with her, Man; come, let’s to her.
Fil. Away, let’s follow her instantly. [Going out is stopt by SirSignal_.
Enter SirSig. Tick. Petro.
SirSig. Signior, I have brought Mr.Tickletextto beg your Pardon—Sir.
Fil. I’ve other business, Sir. [Goes out.
Gal. Come, let’s follow him; and you, my generous Cavalier, must give me leave to beg the Honour of your Friendship.
Lau. My Inclinations, Sir, have given you more—pray let me wait on you to your Lodgings, lest a farther Insolence shou’d be offer’d you.
Gal. Sir, you oblige too fast.[They go out.
SirSig. Ah,che Diavilo Ayles, these hot-brain’d fellows, sure, they’re drunk.
Pet. Oh, fy, Signior, drunk, for a Man of Quality—’tis intolerable.
SirSig. Ay: why how so, SigniorMorigoroso?
Pet. Imbriacohad made it a fine Speech indeed.
SirSig. Why, faith, and so it had, as thus,—ach Diavilo Ayles, these are hot-brain’d Fellows, sure they areimbriaco,—Now, wou’d not I be drunk for a thousand Crowns:ImbriacosoundsCinquante per centbetter.—Come, noble Signior, let’sandiamo a casa, which is as much as to say, let’s amble home.—
Tick. In troth, wondrous expert—Certo, Signior, he’s an apt Scholar.
SirSig. Ah, Sir, you shall see, when I come to my Civilities.—
Pet. Where the first Lesson you shall learn, is, how to give and how to receive with a Bon-Grace.
Tick. That receiving Lesson I will learn my self.
Pet. This unfrequented part of the Garden, Signior, will fit our purpose as well as your Lodgings.—first then—Signiors, your Address. [Puts himself in the middle. [Petrobows on both sides, they do the like. —Very well, that’s at the Approach of any Person of Quality, after which you must take out your Snuff-Box.
SirSig. Snuff-Box; why, we take no Snuff, Signior.
Pet. Then, Sir, by all means you must learn: for besides the Mode and Gravity of it, it inviveates thePericranium; that is, sapientates the Brain,—that is, inspires Wit, Thought, Invention, Understanding, and the like—you conceive me, Signiors— [Bowing.
SirSig. Most profoundly, Signior.— [Bowing.
Pet.—Then, Signiors, it keeps you in confidence, and Countenance; and whilst you gravely seem to take a snush, you gain time to answer to the purpose, and in a politick Posture—as thus—to any intricate Question.
Tick. Hum—certo, I like that well; and ‘twere admirable if a Man were allow’d to take it when he’s out in’s Sermon.
Pet. Doubtless, Signior, you might, it helps the Memory better than Rosemary: therefore I have brought each of you a Snuff-Box.
SirSig. By no means: excuse me Signior.[Refuses to take ‘em.
Pet. Ah, Baggatelles, Signior, Baggatelles; and now, Signiors, I’ll teach you how to take it with a handsom Grace: Signior, your Hand—and yours, Signior; [Lays Snuff on their hands. —so, now draw your hand to and fro under your Noses, and snuff it hard up—Excellent well.
[They daub all their Noses, and make Grimaces, and sneeze.
SirSig. Methinks, Signior, this Snuff stinks most damnably: pray, what scent do you call this?
Pet.Cackamarda Orangate, a rare Perfume I’ll assure ye, Sir.
SirSig.Cackamarda Orangate; and ‘twere not for the Name ofCackamarda, and so forth, a Man had as good have a Sir-reverence at his Nose.
[Sneezes often, he crysbonprovache.
Pet.Bonprovache—Signior, you do not understand it yet,bonprovache.
SirSig. Why, Sir, ‘tis impossible to endure this sameCackamarda; why Assafetida is odoriferous to it. [Sneezing.
Pet. ‘Tis your rightDulce Piquante, believe me:—but come, Signiors, wipe your Noses, and proceed to your giving Lesson.
SirSig. As how, Signior?
Pet. Why—present me with something—that—Diamond on your Finger, to shew the manner of giving handsomly. [SirSig.gives it him. —Oh, fie, Signior—between your Finger and Thumb—thus—with your other Fingers at a distance—with a speech, and a bow.—
SirSig.IllustrissimoSignior, the manifold Obligations.
Pet. Now a fine turn of your hand—thus—Oh, that sets off the Present, and makes it sparkle in the Eyes of the Receiver.— [SirSig.turns his hand.
SirSig. Which you have heap’d upon me,—
Pet. There flourish again. [He flourishes.
SirSig. Oblige me to beg your acceptance of this small Present, which will receive a double Lustre from your fair Hand. [Gives it him.
Pet. Now kiss your fingers ends, and retire back with a bow.
Tick. Most admirably perform’d.
SirSig. Nay, Sir, I have Docity in me, though I say’t: Come, Governor, let’s see how you can out-do me in the Art of presenting.
Tick. Well, Sir, come; your Snuff-Box will serve instead of my Ring, will it not?
Pet. By no means, Sir, there is such a certain Relation between a Finger and a Ring, that no Present becomes either the giving or the receiving Hand half so well.
SirSig. Why, ‘twill be restor’d again, ‘tis but to practise by.
Pet. Ay, Signior, the next thing you are to learn is to receive.
Tick. Most worthy Signior, I have so exhausted theCornucopiaof your Favours, [Flourishes.]—and tasted so plenteously of the fulness of your bounteous Liberality, that to retaliate with this small Gem—is but to offer a Spark, where I have received a Beam of superabundant Sunshine. [Gives it.
SirSig. Most rhetorically perform’d, as I hope to breathe;Tropes and Figures all over.
Tick. Oh Lord, SirSignal.
Pet. Excellent—Now let’s see if you can refuse as civilly as you gave, which is by an obstinate denial; stand both together—Illustrious Signiors, upon my Honour my little Merit has not intitled me to the Glory of so splendid an Offering; Trophies worthy to be laid only at your Magnanimous Feet.
SirSig. Ah, Signior, no, no.
Pet. SigniorTickletext.
[He offers, they refuse going backward.
Tick. Nay,certo, Signior.
Pet. With what confidence can I receive so rich a Present? SigniorTickletext, ah—Signior—
SirSig. I vow, Signior—I’m ashamed you shou’d offer it.
Tick. In verity, so am I. [Still going back, he follows.]
Pet. Pardio! Baccus, most incomparable.—
Tick. But when, Signior, are we to learn to receive again?—
Pet. Oh, Sir, that’s always a Lesson of it self:—but now, Signiors, I’ll teach you how to act a story.
SirSig. How, how, Signior, to act a story?
Pet. Ay, Sir, no matter for words or sense, so the Body perform its part well.
SirSig. How, tell a story without words! why, this were an excellent device for Mr.Tickletext, when he’s to hold forth to the Congregation, and has lost his Sermon-Notes—why, this is wonderful.—
Pet. Oh, Sir, I have taught it Men born deaf [Gets between ‘em: Makes a sign of being fat; galloping about the Stage.] and blind:—look ye, stand close together, and observe—closer yet:—a certain Eclejastico, Plump and Rich—Riding along the Road, meets a Paver strapiao,—un Pavaro strapiao, Paure strapiao:—strapiao—strapiao— strapiao [Puts himself into the Posture of a lean Beggar; his hands right down by his sides,—and picks both their Pockets.] Elemosuna per un Paure strapiao, par a Moure de Dievos—at last he begs a Julio—Neinte [makes the fat Bishop.] the Paure strapiao begs a Mezo Julio— [lean] Neinte [fat]—une bacio—[lean]—Neinte— [fat]—at last he begs his Blessing—and see how willingly the Ecclesiastico gave his Benediction. [Opening his Arms, hits them both in the face.]—Scusa, scusa mea, Patronas— [Begs their pardon.]
SirSig. Yes, very willingly, which by the way he had never done had it been worth a farthing.
Tick. Marry, I wou’d he had been a little sparing of that too at this time—[sneezes] a shame on’t, it has stir’d this sameCackamardaagain most foully.
Pet. Your pardon, Signior;—but come, SirSignal,—let’s see how you will make this silent relation—Come, stand between us two—
SirSig. Nay, let me alone for a memory—come.
Pet. I think I have reveng’d my Backsword-beating. [Goes off.]
SirSig. Un paureo strapado—plump and rich, no, no, the Ecclesiastico meet un paureo strapado—and begs a Julio.
Tick. Oh, no, Sir, the strapado begs the Julio.
SirSig. Ay, ay, and the Ecclesastico crys Niente—[snaps his nail.] un meze Julio!—Niente—un Bacio, Niente: your Blessing then, Signior Ecclesastico. [Spreads out his Arms to give his blessing—and hitsTick.]
Tick. Adds me, you are all a little too liberal of this same Benediction.
SirSig. Hah—but where’s SigniorMorigoroso?what, is he gone?—but now I think on’t, ‘tis a point of good manners to go without taking leave.
Tick. It may be so, but I wish I had my Ring again, I do not like the giving Lesson without the taking one; why this is picking a Man’s pocket,certo.
SirSig. Not so, Governour, for then I had had a considerable loss: Look ye here,—how—how [feeling in his Pocket.] how—[in another] how—gone? gone as I live, my Money, Governour; all the GoldBarberachoreceiv’d of my Merchant to day—all gone.—
Tick. Hah—and mine—all my stock, the Money which I thought to have made a present to the Gentlewoman,Barberachowas to bring me to— [Aside.]—Undone, undone—Villains, Cutpurses—Cheats, oh, run after him.
SirSig. A Pox of all silent stories; Rogue, Thief—undone.—
[Exeunt.
EnterJulioand hisPage.
Jul. How, the Lady whom I followed from St.Peter’sChurch, a Curtezan?
Pag. A Curtezan, my Lord, fair as the Morning, and as young.
Jul. I know she’s fair and young; but is she to be had, Boy?
Pag. My Lord, she is—her Footman told me she was a Zittella.
Jul. How, a Zittella!—a Virgin, ‘tis impossible.
Pag. I cannot swear it, Sir, but so he told me; he said she had a World of Lovers: Her name isSilvianetta, Sir, and her Lodgings—
Jul. I know’t, are on theCorso; a Curtezan? and a Zittella too? a pretty contradiction; but I’ll bate her the last, so I might enjoy her as the first: whate’er the price be, I’m resolv’d upon the adventure; and will this minute prepare my self. [Going off, EnterMor. and Octa.]— hah, does the Light deceive me, or is that indeed my Uncle, in earnest conference with a Cavalier?—’tis he—I’ll step aside till he’s past, lest he hinders this Night’s diversion. [Goes aside.
Mor. I say ‘twas rashly done, to fight him unexamin’d.
Oct. I need not ask; my Reason has inform’d me, and I’m convinc’d, where-e’er he has concealed her, that she is fled withFillamour.
Jul. Who is’t they speak of?
Mor. Well, well, sure my Ancestors committed some horrid crime againstNature, that she sent this Pest of Woman-kind into our Family,—twoNieces for my share;—by Heaven, a Proportion sufficient to undo sixGenerations.
Jul. Hah? two Nieces, what of them? [Aside.
Mor. I am like to give a blessed account of ‘em to their BrotherJuliomy Nephew, at his return; there’s a new plague now:—but my comfort is, I shall be mad, and there’s an end on’t. [Weeps.
Jul. My Curiosity must be satisfied,—have patience, Noble Sir.—
Mor. Patience is a flatterer, Sir,—and an Ass, Sir; and I’ll have none on’t—hah, what art thou?
Jul. Has five or six Years made ye lose the remembrance of your Nephew—Julio?
Mor. Julio!I wou’d I had met thee going to thy Grave. [Weeps.
Jul. Why so, Sir?
Mor. Your Sisters, Sir, your Sisters are both gone.— [Weeps.
Jul. How gone, Sir?
Mor. Run away, Sir, flown, Sir.
Jul. Heavens! which way?
Mor. Nay, who can tell the ways of fickle Women—in short, Sir, your SisterMarcellawas to have been married to this noble Gentleman,—nay, was contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel; but no sooner was his back turn’d, but in a pernicious Moon-light Night she shews me a fair pair of heels, with the young Baggage, your other SisterCornelia, who was just come from the Monastery where I bred her, to see her Sister married.
Jul. A curse upon the Sex! why must Man’s Honour Depend upon their Frailty? —Come—give me but any light which way they went, And I will trace ‘em with that careful Vengeance—
Oct. Spoke like a Man, that understands his Honour; And I can guess how we may find the Fugitives.
Jul. Oh, name it quickly, Sir!
Oct. There was a young Cavalier—some time atViterbo, Who I confess had Charms, Heaven has denied to me, That Trifle, Beauty, which was made to please Vain foolish Woman, which the brave and wise Want leisure to design.—
Jul. And what of him?
Oct. This fine gay thing came in your Sister’s way, And made that Conquest Nature meant such Fools for: And, Sir, she’s fled with him.
Jul. Oh, show me the Man, the daring hardy Villain, Bring me but in the view of my Revenge,—and if I fail to take it, Brand me with everlasting Infamy.
Oct. That we must leave to Fortune, and our Industry. —Come, Sir, let’s walk and think best what to do,—
[Going down the Scene, EnterFil.andGal.
Fil. Is not thatJulio? Boy, run and call him back. [Ex. Boy, re-enters withJul.
Jul. Oh,Fillamour, I have heard such killing news Since last I left thee—
Fil. What, prithee?
Jul. I had a Sister, Friend—dear as my Life,And bred with all the Virtues of her Sex;No Vestals at the Holy Fire employ’d themselvesIn innocenter business than this Virgin;Till Love, the fatal Fever of her Heart,Betray’d her harmless Hours;And just upon the point of being married,The Thief stole in, and rob’d us of this Treasure:She’as left her Husband, Parents, and her Honour,And’s fled with the base Ruiner of her Virtue.
Fil. And lives the Villain durst affront ye thus?
Jul. He does.
Gal. Where, in what distant World?
Jul. I know not.
Fil. What is he call’d?
Jul. I know not neither,—some God direct me to the Ravisher! And if he scape my Rage, May Cowards point me out for one of their tame Herd.
Fil. In all your Quarrels I must join my Sword.
Gal. And if you want,—here’s another, Sir, that, though it be not often drawn in anger, nor cares to be, shall not be idle in good company.
Jul. I thank you both; and if I have occasion, will borrow their assistance; but I must leave you for a minute, I’ll wait on you anon.— [They all three walk as down the street, talking.
EnterLaura,withSilvioand herEquipage.
Lau. Beyond my wish, I’m got into his Friendship:But Oh, how distant Friendship is from Love,That’s all bestow’d on the fair Prostitute!—Ah,Silvio, when he took me in his Arms,Pressing my willing Bosom to his Breast,Kissing my Cheek, calling me lovely Youth,And wond’ring how such Beauty, and such Bravery,Met in a Man so young! Ah, then, my Boy,Then in that happy minute,How near was I to telling all my Soul!My Blushes and my Sighs were all prepar’d;My Eyes cast down, my trembling Lips just parting.—But still as I was ready to begin,He cries outSilvianetta!And to prevent mine, tells me all his Love.—But see—he’s here.—
[Fill.andGal.coming up the Scene.
Gal. Come, lay by all sullen Unresolves: for now the hour of the Berjere approaches, Night that was made for Lovers.—Hah! my DearSans-Coeur? my Life! my Soul! my Joy! Thou art of my opinion!
Lau. I’m sure I am, whate’er it be.
Gal. Why, my Friend here, and I, have sent and paid our Fine for a small Tenement of Pleasure, and I’m for taking present possession;—but hold—if you shou’d be a Rival after all.—
Lau. Not in yourSilvianetta! my Love has a nice Appetite,And must be fed with high uncommon Delicates.I have a Mistress, Sir, of Quality;Fair, as Imagination paints young Angels;Wanton and gay, as was the firstCorinna,That charm’d our best of Poets;Young as the Spring, and chearful as the BirdsThat welcome in the Day;Witty, as Fancy makes the Revelling Gods,And equally as bounteous when she blesses.
Gal. Ah, for a fine young Whore with all these Charms! but that same Quality allays the Joy: there’s such a damn’d ado with the Obligation, that half the Pleasure’s lost in Ceremony. —Here for a thousand Crowns I reign alone, Revel all day in Love without controul. —But come to our business, I have given order for Musick, Dark Lanthorns, and Pistols.
[This whileFil.,stands studying.
Fil. Death, if it shou’d not beMarcellanow! [Pausing aside.
Gal. Prithee no more considering,—resolve, and let’s about it.
Fil. I wou’d not tempt my Heart again! for Love,What e’er it may be in another’s Breast,In mine ‘twill turn to a religious Fire;And so to burn for her, a common Mistress,Wou’d be an Infamy below her Practice.
Gal. Oh, if that be all, doubt not,Harry, but an Hour’s Conversation withEuphemiawill convert it to as leud a flame, as a Man wou’d wish.
Lau. What a coil’s here about a Curtezan! what ado to persuade a Man to a Blessing allRomeis languishing for in vain!—Come, Sir, we must deal with him, as Physicians do with peevish Children, force him to take what will cure him.
Fil. And like those damn’d Physicians, kill me for want of method: no, I know my own Distemper best, and your Applications will make me mad.
Gal. Pox on’t, that one cannot love a Woman like a Man, but one must love like an Ass.
Lau. S’heart, I’ll be bound to lie with all the Women inRome, with less ado than you are brought to one.
Gal. Hear ye that,Henry? s’death, art not asham’d to be instructed by one so young!—But see—the Star there appears,—the Star that conducts thee to the Shore of Bliss,—She comes! let’s feel thy [MarcellaandCorneliaabovewith_ Philippa.] Heart, she comes! So breaks the Day on the glad Eastern Hills, Or the bright God of Rays from _Thetis’. Lap: A Rapture, now, dear Lad, and then fall to; for thou art old Dog at a long Grace.
Fil. Now I’m mere Man again, with all his Frailties— [Aside. —Bright lovely Creature!—
Gal. Damn it, how like my Lady’s eldest Son was that?
Fil. May I hope my Sacrifice may be accepted by you; by Heaven, it must be she! still she appears more like.— [Aside.
Mar. I’ve only time to tell you Night approaches, And then I will expect you.
EnterCrapine,gazes on the Ladies.
Crap. ‘Tis she,Donna Marcella, on my life, with the young wildCornelia!—hah—yonder’s theEnglishCavalier too; nay then, by this Hand I’ll be paid for all my fruitless jaunts, for this good news—stay, let me mark the House.—
Mar. Now to my Disguise. [Ex. Marcella.
Gal. And have you no kind message to send to my Heart? cannot this good Example instruct you how to make me happy?
Cor. Faith, Stranger, I must consider first; she’s skilful in the Merchandize of Hearts, and has dealt in Love with so good success hitherto, she may lose one Venture, and never miss it in her Stock: but this is my first, and shou’d it prove to be a bad bargain, I were undone for ever.
Gal. I dare secure the Goods sound—
Cor. And I believe will not lie long upon my hands.
Gal. Faith, that’s according as you’ll dispose on’t, Madam—for let me tell you—gad, a good handsome proper Fellow is as staple a Commodity as any’s in the Nation;—but I wou’d be reserv’d for your own use. Faith, take a Sample to night, and as you like it, the whole Piece; and that’s fair and honest dealing I think, or the Devil’s in’t.
Cor. Ah, Stranger,—you have been so over-liberal for those same Samples of yours, that I doubt they have spoiled the sale of the rest; Cou’d you not afford, think ye, to throw in a little Love and Constancy, to inch out that want of Honesty of yours?
Gal. Love! oh, in abundance!By those dear Eyes, by that soft smiling Mouth,By every secret Grace thou hast about thee,I love thee with a vigorous, eager Passion;—Be kind, dearSilvianetta—prithee do,Say you believe, and make me blest to Night.
Crap. Silvianetta!so, that’s the Name she has rifl’d forCornelia, I perceive. [Aside.
Cor. If I shou’d be so kind-hearted, what good use wou’d you make of so obliging an Opportunity?
Gal. That which the happy Night was first ordain’d for.
Cor. Well, Signior, ‘tis coming on, and then I’ll try what Courage the Darkness will inspire me with:—till then—farewell.—
Gal. Till then a thousand times adieu.— [Blowing up kisses to her.
Phil. Ah, Madam, we’re undone,—yonder’sCrapine, your Uncle’s Valet.
Cor. Now a Curse on him; shall we not have one night with our Cavaliers?—let’s retire, and continue to out-wit him, or never more pretend to’t. Adieu, Signior Cavalier—remember Night.—
Gal. Or may I lose my Sense to all Eternity.
[Kisses his fingers and bows, she returns it for a while.Exit. Crap.
Lau. Gods, that all this that looks at least like Love,Shou’d be dispens’d to one insensible!Whilst every syllable of that dear Value,Whisper’d to me, wou’d make my Soul all Extasy. [Aside.—Oh, spare that Treasure for a grateful Purchase;And buy that common Ware with trading Gold,Love is too rich a Price!—I shall betray my self.—[Aside.
Gal. Away, that’s an heretical Opinion, and whichThis certain Reason must convince thee of;That Love is Love, wherever Beauty is,Nor can the Name of Whore make Beauty less.
EnterMarcellalike a Man, with a Cloke about her.
Mar. Signior, is your NameFillamour?
Fil. It is, what wou’d you, Sir?—
Mar_. I have a Letter for you—fromViterbo, and yourMarcella, Sir. [Gives it him.
Fil. Hah—Viterbo! andMarcella! It shocks me like the Ghost of some forsaken Mistress, That met me in the way to Happiness, With some new long’d-for Beauty! [Opens it, reads.
Mar. Now I shall try thy Virtue, and my Fate.— [Aside.
Fil. What is’t that checks the Joy, that shou’d surprize me at the receipt of this.
Gal. How now! what’s the cold fit coming on? [Pauses.
Fil. I have no power to go—where this—invites me—By which I prove ‘tis no encrease of Flame that warms my Heart,But a new Fire just kindled from those Eyes—Whose Rays I find more piercing thanMarcella’s.
Gal.—Ay, Gad, a thousand times—prithee, what’s the matter?
Mar. Oh, this false-souled Man—wou’d I had leisure To be reveng’d for this Inconstancy! [Aside.
Fil.—But still she wants that Virtue I admire.
Gal. Virtue! ‘S’death thou art always fumbling upon that dull string that makes no Musick.—What Letter’s that? [Reads.] If the first Confession I ever made of Love be grateful to you, come arm’d to night with a Friend or two; and behind the Garden of the Fountains, you will receive—hah,Marcella!—Oh, damn it, from your honest Woman!—Well, I see the Devil’s never so busy with a Man, as when he has resolv’d upon any Goodness! S’death, what a rub’s here in a fair cast,—how is’t man? Alegremente! bear up, defy him and all his Works.
Fil. But I have sworn, sworn that I lov’dMarcella;And Honour, Friend, obliges me to go,Take her away and marry her.—And I conjure thee to assist me too.
Gal. What, to night, this might, that I have given toSilvianetta!and you have promis’d to the fair—Euphemia!
Lau. If he shou’d go, he ruins my design, [Aside. —Nay, if your word, Sir—be already past—
Fil. ‘Tis true, I gave my promise toEuphemia;but that, to Women of her Trade, is easily absolv’d.
Gal. Men keep not Oaths for the sakes of the wise Magistrates to whom they are made, but their own Honour,Harry.—And is’t not much a greater crime to rob a gallant, hospitable Man of his Niece, who has treated you with Confidence and Friendship, than to keep touch with a well-meaning Whore, my conscientious Friend?
Lau. Infinite degrees, Sir.
Gal. Besides, thou’st an hour or two good, between this and the time requir’d to meetMarcella.
Lau. Which an industrious Lover would manage to the best advantage.
Gal. That were not given over to Virtue and Constancy; two the best excuses I know for Idleness.
Fil.—Yes—I may see this Woman.
Gal. Why, Gad-a-mercy, Lad.
Fil.—And break my Chains, if possible.
Gal. Thou wilt give a good essay to that I’ll warrant thee, Before she part with thee; come let’s about it.
[They are going out on either side ofFil.persuading him.
Mar. He’s gone, the Curtezan has got the day, [Aside. Vice has the start of Virtue every way; And for one Blessing honest Wives obtain, The happier Mistress does a thousand gain. I’ll home—and practise all their Art to prove, That nothing is so cheaply gain’d as Love. [Exit.
Gal. Stay, what Farce is this—prithee let’s see a little. [Offering to go.
[Enter SirSignal,Mr. Tickletext,with his Cloke ty’d about him, a great Inkhorn ty’d at his Girdle and a great folio under his Arm, Petrodrest like an Antiquary.
—How now, Mr.Tickletext, what, drest as if you were going a Pilgrimage toJerusalem?
Tick. I make no such profane Journeys, Sir.
Gal. But where have you been, Mr.Tickletext?
SirSig. Why, Sir, this most Reverend and Renowned Antiquary has been showing us Monumental Rarities and Antiquities.
Gal. ‘TisPetro, that Rogue.
Fil. But what Folio have you gotten there, Sir,Knox, orCartwright?
Pet. Nay, if he be got into that heap of Nonsense, I’ll steal off and undress. [Aside.] [Ex. Petro.
[Tick,opening the Book.
Tick. A small Volume, Sir, into which I transcribe the most memorable and remarkable Transactions of the Day.
Lau. That doubtless must be worth seeing.
Fil. [Reads.]—April the twentieth, arose a very great Storm of Wind, Thunder, Lightning and Rain,—which was a shrewd sign of foul Weather. The 22th 9 of our 12 Chickens getting loose, flew overboard, the other three miraculously escaping, by being eaten by me that Morning for Breakfast.
SirSig. Harkye,Galliard—thou art my Friend, and ‘tis not like a Man of Honour to conceal any thing from one’s Friend,—know then I am The most fortunate Rascal that ever broke bread,—I am this night to visit, Sirrah,—the finest, the most delicious young Harlot, Mum—under the Rose—in allRome, ofBarberacho’sacquaintance.
Gal.—Hah—my Woman, on my Life! and will she be kind?
SirSig. Kind! hang Kindness, Man, I’m resolv’d upon Conquest by Parly or by Force.
Gal. Spoke like a Roman of the first Race, when noble Rapes, not whining Courtship, did the Lover’s business.
SirSig. ‘Sha, Rapes, Man! I mean by force of Money, pure dint of Gold, faith and troth: for I have given 500 Crowns entrance already,& Par Dins Bacchus, ‘tis tropo Caro—tropo Caro, Mr.Galliard.
Gal. And what’s this high-priz’d Lady’s Name, Sir?
SirSig.La Silvianetta,—and lodges on theCorso, not far from St.James’s of the Incurables—very well situated in case of disaster—hah.
Gal. Very well,—and did not your wise Worship know thisSilvianettawas my Mistress?
SirSig. How! his Mistress! what a damn’d Noddy was I to name her![Aside.
Gal. D’ye hear, fool! renounce me this Woman instantly, or I’ll first discover it to your Governour, and then cut your throat, Sir.
SirSig. Oh,Doux Ment—dearGalliard—Renounce her,—Corpo de mi, that I will soul and body, if she belong to thee, Man.—
Gal. No more; look to’t—look you forget her Name—or but to think of her—farewel— [Nods at him.
SirSig. Farewell, quoth ye—’tis well I had the Art of dissembling after all, here had been a sweet broil upon the Coast else.—
Fil. Very well, I’ll trouble my self to read no more, since I know you’l be so kind to the world to make it publick.
Tick. At my return, Sir, for the good of the Nation, I will print it, and I think it will deserve it.
Lau. This is a precious Rogue, to make a Tutor of.
Fil. Yet these Mooncalfs dare pretend to the breeding of our Youth; and the time will come, I fear, when none shall be reputed to travel like a Man of Quality, who has not the advantage of being impos’d upon by one of these pedantick Novices, who instructs the young Heir in what himself is most profoundly ignorant of.
Gal. Come, ‘tis dark, and time for our Design,—your Servant, Signiors. [ExeuntFil.andGal.
Lau. I’ll home, and watch the kind deceiving Minute, that may conduct him by mistake to me. [Exit.
EnterPetro,likeBarberacho,just asTick.and SirSignalare going out.
SirSig. Oh,Barberacho, we are undone! Oh, the Diavillo take thatMaster you sent me?
Pet. Master, what Master?
SirSig. Why, Signior Morigoroso!
Pet. Mor—oso—what shou’d he be?
SirSig. A Civility-Master he should have been, to have taught us good Manners;—but the Cornuto cheated us most damnably, and by a willing mistake taught us nothing in the world but Wit.
Pet. Oh, abominable Knavery! why, what a kind of Man was he?
SirSig.—Why—much such another as your self.
Tick. Higher, Signior, higher.
SirSig. Ay, somewhat higher—but just of his pitch.
Pet. Well, Sir, and what of this Man?
SirSig. Only pickt our Pockets, that’s all.
Tick. Yes, and cozen’d us of our Rings.
SirSig. Ay, and gave us Cackamarda Orangata for Snuff.
Tick. And his Blessing to boot when he had done.
SirSig. A vengeance on’t, I feel it still.
Pet. Why, this ‘tis to do things of your own head; for I sent no such Signior Moroso—but I’ll see what I can do to retrieve ‘em—I am now a little in haste, farewell.— [Offers to go, Tick.goes out by him and jogs him.
Tick. Remember to meet me—farewel,Barberacho. [Goes out, SirSig.pulls him.
SirSig. Barberacho—is the Lady ready?
Pet. Is your Money ready?
SirSig. Why, now, though I am threatned, and kill’d, and beaten, and kick’d about this Intrigue, I must advance. [Aside.]—But dost think there’s no danger?
Pet. What, in a delicate young amorous Lady, Signior?
SirSig. No, no, mum, I don’t much fear the Lady; but this same mad fellowGalliard, I hear, has a kind of a hankering after her— Now dare not I tell him what a discovery I have made. [Aside.
Pet. Let me alone to secure you, meet me in thePiazzo d’.ispagnia, as soon as you can get yourself in order; where the two Fools shall meet, and prevent either’s coming. [Aside.
SirSig. Enough,—here’s a Bill for 500 Crowns more upon my Merchant, you know him by a good token, I lost the last Sum you receiv’d for me, a pox of that Handsel; away, here’s company. [Ex. Pet.EnterOctavioandCrapine.] Now will I disguise my self, according to the mode of the Roman Inamoratos; and deliver my self upon the place appointed. [Ex. SirSig.
Oct. On theCorsodidst thou see ‘em?
Crap. On theCorso, my Lord, in discourse with three Cavaliers, one of which has given me many a Pistole, to let him into the Garden a-nights atViterbo, to talk withDonna Marcellafrom her Chamber-Window, I think I shou’d remember him.
Oct. Oh, that Thought fires me with Anger fit for my Revenge, [Aside. And they are to serenade ‘em, thou say’st?
Crap. I did, my Lord: and if you can have patience till they come, you will find your Rival in this very place, if he keep his word.
Oct. I do believe thee, and have prepared my Bravoes to attack him: if I can act but my Revenge to night, how shall I worship Fortune? Keep out of sight, and when I give the word, be ready all. I hear some coming, let’s walk off a little.—
EnterMarcellain Man’s Clothes, andPhilippaas a Woman with a Lanthorn. Oct.andCrap.go off the other way.
Mar. Thou canst never convince me, but ifCrapinesaw us, and gaz’d so long upon us, he must know us too; and then what hinders but by a diligent watch about the House, they will surprize us, e’er we have secured our selves from ‘em?
Phil. And how will this exposing your self to danger prevent ‘em?
Mar. My design now is, to preventFillamour’scoming into danger, by hindring his approach to this House: I wou’d preserve the kind Ingrate with any hazard of my own; and ‘tis better to die than fall into the hands ofOctavio. I’m desperate with that thought, and fear no danger: however, be you ready at the door, and when I ring admit me—ha—who comes here?
EnterTickletextwith a Periwig and Crevat of SirSignal’s:A Sword by his side, and a dark Lanthorn; she opens hers, looks on him, and goes out.
Tick. A Man! now am I, though an old Sinner, as timorous as a young Thief: ‘tis a great inconvenience in these Popish Countrys, that a man cannot have liberty to steal to a Wench without danger; not that I need fear who sees me exceptGalliard, who suspecting my business, will go near to think I am wickedly inclin’d. SirSignalI have left hard at his Study, and SirHenryis no nocturnal Inamorato, unless like me he dissemble it.—Well,certo, ‘tis a wonderful pleasure to deceive the World: And as a learned Man well observ’d, that the Sin of Wenching lay in the Habit only; I having laid that aside,Timothy Tickletext, principal Holder-forth of theCovent-GardenConventicle, Chaplain ofBuffoon-Hallin the County ofKent, is free to recreate himself.
EnterGal.with a dark Lanthorn.
Gal. Where the Devil is thisFillamour?and the Mufick? which way cou’d he go to lose me thus? [Looks towards the Door. —He is not yet come—
Tick. Not yet come—that must beBarberacho!— Where are ye, honestBarberacho, where are ye? [Groping towardsGal.
Gal. Hah!Barberacho?that Name I am sure is us’d by none but SirSignaland his Coxcomb Tutor; it must be one of those—Where are ye, Signior, where are ye? [Goes towards him, and opens the Lanthorn—and shuts it strait.
—Oh, ‘tis the Knight,—are you there, Signior?
Tick. Oh, art thou come, honest Rascal—conduct me quickly, conduct me to the beautiful and fairSilvianetta. [Gives him his Hand.
Gal. Yes, when your Dogship’s damn’d.Silvianetta!Sdeath, is she a Whore for Fools? [Draws.
Tick. Hah, Mr.Galliard, as the Devil would have it;—I’m undone if he sees me. [He retires hastily, Gal.gropes for him.
Gal. Where are you, Fop? Buffoon! Knight!
[Tickletextretiring hastily runs againstOctavio,who is just entering, almost beats him down; Oct.strikes him a good blow, beats him back and draws: Tick,gets close up in a corner of the Stage; Oct.gropes for him, asGal.does, and both meet and fight with each other.
—What, dare you draw,—you have the impudence to be valiant then in the dark, [they pass.] I wou’d not kill the Rogue,—’Sdeath, you can fight then, when there’s a Woman in the case!
Oct. I hope ‘tisFillarnour; [Aside.] You’ll find I can, and possibly may spoil your making Love to night.
Gal. Egad, Sweet-heart, and that may be, one civil Thrust will do’t;— and ‘twere a damn’d rude thing to disappoint so fine a Woman,—therefore I’ll withdraw whilst I’m well. [He slips out.
Enter SirSignal,with a Masquerading Coat over his Clothes, without a Wig or Crevat, with a dark Lanthorn.
SirSig. Well, I have most neatly escap’d my Tutor; and in this disguise defy the Devil to claim his own.—Ah,Caspeto de Deavilo;— What’s that?
[Advancing softly, and groping with his hands, meets the point ofOct.Sword, as he is groping forGal.
Oct. Traitor, darest thou not stand my Sword?
SirSig. Hah! Swords! no, Signior—scusa mea, Signioir,—
[Hops to the door: And feeling for his way with his out-stretcht Arms, runs his Lanthorn inJulio’sface, who is just entring; finds he’s oppos’d with a good push backward, and slips aside into a corner over-againstTickletext; JuliomeetsOctavio,and fights him; Oct.falls, Julioopens his Lanthorn, and sees his mistake.
Jut. Is it you, Sir?
Oct.Julio! From what Mistake grew all this Violence?
Jul. That I shou’d ask of you, who meet you arm’d against me.
Oct. I find the Night has equally deceiv’d us; and you are fitly come to share with me the hopes of dear Revenge. [Gropes for his Lanthorn, which is dropt.
Jul. I’d rather have pursu’d my kinder Passion, Love, and Desire, that brought me forth to night.
Oct. I’ve learnt where my false Rival is to be this Evening; And if you’ll join your Sword, you’ll find it well employ’d.
Jul. Lead on, I’m as impatient of Revenge as you.—