Act 5 — SCENE IV. Changes to a Chamber.

Enter Sir Signal a little groping.

Sir Sig. There’s no finding my way out,—and now does Fear make me fancy this some inchanted Castle.—

Enter Tick, listening.

Tick. Hah, an inchanted Castle!

Sir Sig. Belonging to a monstrous Giant; who having spirited away the King of Tropicipopican’s Daughter, keeps her here inclos’d, and that I a wandring Knight am by fickle Fortune sent to her Deliverance. [Tick listens.

Tick. How’s that! spirited away the King of Tropicipopican’s Daughter; bless me, what unlawful Wickedness is practis’d in this Romish Heathenish Country! [Aside.

Sir Sig. And yet the Devil of any Dwarf, Squire or Damsel have I met with yet,—wou’d I were cleanlily off this business—hah, Lights, as I live, and People coming this way!—bless me from the Giant!—Oh Lord, what shall I do!— [Falls on his Knees.

Tick. I fear no Giants, having Justice on my Side; but Reputation makes me tender of my Person.—Hah—what’s this, a Curtain; I’ll wind my self in this, it may secure me. [Winds himself in a Window-Curtain.

Sir Sig.—They’re entering, what shall I do?—hah—here’s a Corner; defend me from a Chimney.

[Creeps to the Corner of the Window, and feels a space between Tick’s Legs and the Corner; creeps in, and stands up just behind Tickletext. Enter Gal. leading Laura; Sab. with Lights just after ‘em; Jul. Oct. Mor. and Crap.

Oct. Just in the happy Minute!

Gal. I’ve sworn by every God, by every Power divine, to marry thee, and save thee from the Tyranny of a forc’d Contract.—Nay, Gad, if I lose a fine Wench for want of Oaths this bout, the Devil’s in me.

Oct. What think ye now, Sir?

Jul. Damnation on her, set my Rage at Liberty, That I may kill ‘em both.

[Mor. holds him.

Mor. I see no cause for that, she may be virtuous yet.

Oct. Do ye think as such to pass her off on me, Or that I’ll bear the Infamy of your Family? No, I scorn her now, but can revenge my Honour on a Rival.

Mor. Nay, then I’ll see fair Play,—turn and defend thy Life. [Goes to Gal. who turns.

Jul. Whilst I do Justice on the Prostitute:—hah— Defend me, ‘tis the Woman that I love. [He gazes, she runs to Gal.

Lau. Octavio!

Oct. Laura! My Sister, perfidious shameful— [Offers to kill her.

Jul. Hold, thy Sister this? that Sister I’m to marry.

Lau. Is this then Julio? and do all the Powers conspire to make me wretched?

Oct. May I be dumb for ever.

[Holds his Sword down, and looks sadly; Jul. holds Lau. by one hand, pleads with Oct. with the other.

Enter Fillamour and Pet.

Fil.—Hah, Galliard! in danger too. [Draws, steps to ‘em, Mor. puts between.

Oct. Fillamour here! how now, what’s the matter, Friend? [They talk whilst enter Marcella and Cornelia.

Cor. Hah, new Broils; sure the Devil’s broke loose to night.—my Uncle, as I live! [Mor. pleads between Fil. and Octavio.

Mar. And Octavio! Where shall we fly for Safety?

Cor. I’ll even trust to my Breeches, ‘tis too late to retreat;—s’life, here be our Cavaliers too; nay then, ne’er fear falling into the Enemies hands.

Fil. I, I fled with Marcella! had I been blest with so much Love from her, I wou’d have boasted on’t i’th’ face of Heaven.

Mor. La ye, Sir. [To Octavio.

Fil. The lovely Maid I own I have a Passion for; But by the Powers above, the Flame was sacred, And wou’d no more have past the Bounds of Honour Or Hospitality, than I wou’d basely murder; and were she free, I wou’d from all the World make her for ever mine.

Mor. Look ye, Sir, a plain case this.

Gal. He tells ye simple truth, Sir.

Oct. Was it not you this scarce past night I fought with here, in the House by dark, just when you had exchanged yours Vows with her?

Lau. Heavens! was it he? [Aside.

Fil. This Minute was the first I ever enter’d here.

Jul. ‘Twas I, Sir, was that interrupted Lover,—and this the Lady.

Lau. And must I yield at last? [Aside.

Oct. Wonders and Riddles!

Gal. And was this the Silvianetta, Sir, you told the Story of? [Slily.

Jul. The same whom Inclination, Friends, and Destiny, conspire to make me blest with.

Gal. So many Disappointments in one night wou’d make a Man turn honest in spite of Nature.

[Sir Sig. peeps from behind.

Sir Sig. Some Comfort yet, that I am not the only Fool defeated. Ha! Galllard!

Oct. I’m satisfy’d (To Fil.)—but what cou’d move you, Sir—[to Gal.] to injure me, one of my Birth and Quality?

Gal. Faith, Sir, I never stand upon Ceremony when there’s a Woman in the case,—nor knew I ‘twas your Sister: Or if I had, I shou’d ha’ lik’d her ne’er the worse for that, had she been kind.

Jul. It is my Business to account with him, And I am satisfy’d he has not injur’d me, he is my Friend.

Gal. That’s frankly said; and uncompell’d, I swear she’s innocent.

Oct. If you’re convinc’d, I too am satisfy’d, And give her to you whilst that Faith continues. [Gives him her.

Lau. And must I, must I force my Heart to yield? And yet his generous Confidence obliges me. [Aside.

Oct. And here I vow by all the sacred Powers, [kneels] That punish Perjury, never to set my Heart On faithless Woman;—never to love nor marry; [Rises] Travel shall be my business—thou my Heir. [To Julio.

Sir Sig. So, poor soul, I’ll warrant he has been defeated too.

Mar. Marcella, Sir, will take ye at your Word.

Fil. Marcella!

Mar. Who owns with Blushes Truths shou’d be conceal’d, but to prevent more Mischief,—That I was yours, Sir, was against my Will, [to Oct.] my Soul was Fillamour’s e’er you claim’d a right in me; though I never saw or held discourse with him, but at an awful distance,—nor knew he of my Flight.

Oct. I do believe, and give thee back my Claim, I scorn the brutal part of Love; the noblest Body, where the Heart is wanting. [They all talk aside, Cornelia comes up to Galliard.

Cor. Why, how now, Cavalier, how like a discarded Favourite do you look now, who whilst your Authority lasted, laid about ye, domineer’d, huft and bluster’d, as if there had been no end on’t: now a Man may approach ye without terror—You see the Meat’s snatcht out of your Mouth, Sir, the Lady’s dispos’d on; whose Friends and Relations you were so well acquainted with.

Gal. Peace, Boy, I shall be angry else.—

Cor. Have you never a cast Mistress, that will take compassion on you: Faith, what think ye of the little Curtezan now?

Gal. As ill as e’er I did; what’s that to thee?

Cor. Much more than you’re aware on, Sir—and faith, to tell you Truth, I’m no Servant to Count Julio, but e’en a little mischievous Instrument she sent hither to prevent your making love to Donna Laura.

Gal. ‘Tis she herself.—how cou’d that Beauty hide itself so long from being known? [Aside.]—Malicious little Dog in a Manger, that wou’d neither eat, nor suffer the Hungry to feed themselves, what spiteful Devil cou’d move thee to treat a Lover thus? but I am pretty well reveng’d on ye.

Cor. On me!

Gal. You think I did not know those pretty Eyes, that lovely Mouth I have so often kist in cold imagination.

Cor. Softly, Tormentor. [They talk aside.

Mar. In this disguise we parted from Viterbo, attended only by Petro and Philippa: At Rome we took the Title and Habit of two Curtezans; both to shelter us from knowledge, and to oblige Fillamour to visit us, which we believ’d he would in curiosity; and yesterday it so fell out as we desired.

Fil. Howe’er my Eyes might be imposed upon, you see my Heart was firm to its first Object; can you forget and pardon the mistake?

Jul. She shall, and with Octavio’s and my Uncle’s leave,—thus make your Title good.— [Gives her to Fil.

Oct. ‘Tis vain to strive with Destiny. [Gives her.

Mor. With all my heart,—but where’s Cornelia all this while?

Gal. Here’s the fair Stragler, Sir. [Leads her to Mor. he holds his Cane up at her.

Mor. Why, thou Baggage, thou wicked Contriver of Mischief, what excuse had’st thou for running away? Thou had’st no Lover.

Cor. ‘Twas therefore, Sir, I went to find one; and if I am not mistaken in the mark, ‘tis this Cavalier I pitch upon for that use and purpose.

Gal. Gad, I thank ye for that,—I hope you’ll ask my leave first, I’m finely drawn in, i’faith—Have I been dreaming all this night of the possession of a new-gotten Mistress, to wake and find my self noos’d to a dull Wife in the morning?

Fil. Thou talk’st like a Man that never knew the Pleasures thou despisest; faith, try it, Frank, and thou wilt hate thy past loose way of living.

Cor. And to encourage a young Setter up, I do here promise to be the most Mistress-like Wife,—You know, Signior, I have learnt the trade, though I had not stock to practise; and will be as expensive, insolent, vain, extravagant and inconstant, as if you only had the keeping part, and another the amorous Assignations. What think ye, Sir?

Fil. Faith, she pleads well, and ought to carry the Cause.

Gal. She speaks Reason, and I’m resolv’d to trust good Nature:—Give me thy dear hand.—

[They all join to give it him, he kisses it.

Mor. And now ye are both sped, pray give me leave to ask ye a civil question; are you sure you have been honest? if you have, I know not by what miracle you have liv’d.

Pet. Oh, Sir, as for that, I had a small stock of Cash in the hands of a couple of English Bankers, one Sir Signal Buffoon—

Sir Sig. Sir Signal Buffoon, what a pox, does he mean me trow? [Peeping.

Pet.—And one Mr. Tickletext.

Tick. How was that? certo, my Name!

[Peeps out, and both see each other; their faces being close together, one at one side the Curtain, and t’other at t’other.

Gal. and Fil. Ha, ha, ha.

Sir Sig. And have I caught you, i’faith, Mr. Governour? Nay, ne’er put in your head for the matter, here’s none but Friends, mun.

Gal. How now, what have we here?

Sir Sig. Speak of the Devil, and he appears. [Pulls his Governour forward.

Tick. I am undone,—but, good Sir Signal, do not cry Whore first, as the old Proverb says.

Sir Sig. And good Mr. Governour, as another old Proverb says, do not let the Kettle call the Pot black-arse!—

Fil. How came you hither, Gentlemen?

Sir Sig. Why faith, Sir, divining of a Wedding or two forward, I brought Mr. Chaplain to give you a cast of his Office, as the saying is.

Fil. What, without Book, Mr. Tickletext?

Cor. How now, sure you mistake, these are two Lovers of mine.

Sig Sig. How, Sir, your Lovers! we are none of those, Sir, we are Englishmen.

Gal. You mistake, Sir Signal, this is Silvianetta.

Sir Sig. and Tick. How! [Aside.

Gal. Here’s another Spark of your acquaintance,—do you know him?

Tick. How, Barberacho! nay, then all will out.—

Gal. Yes, and your Fencing and Civility-Master.

Sir Sig. Ay,—Why, what, was it you that pickt our Pockets then, and cheated us?

Gal. Most damnably,—but since ‘twas for the supply of two fair Ladies, all shall be restor’d again.

Tick. Some comfort that.

Fil. Come, let’s in and forgive all; ‘twas but one Night’s Intrigue, in which all were a little faulty.

Sir Sig. And Governour, pray let me have no more Domineering and Usurpation: but as we have hitherto been honest Brothers in Iniquity, so let’s wink hereafter at each others Frailties;

Since Love and Women easily betray Man, From the grave Gown-man to the busy Lay-man.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Mr. Smith.

So hard the times are, and so thin the Town, Though but one Playhouse, that must too lie down; And when we fail, what will the Poets do? They live by us as we are kept by you: When we disband, they no more Plays will write, But make Lampoons, and libel ye in spite; Discover each false Heart that lies within, Nor Man nor Woman shall in private sin; The precise whoring Husband’s haunts betray, Which the demurer Lady to repay, In his own coin does the just debt defray. The brisk young Beauty linked to Lands and Age, Shuns the dull Property and strokes the youthful Page; And if the Stripling apprehend not soon, Turns him aside, and takes the brawny Groom; Whilst the kind Man so true a Husband proves, To think all’s well done by the thing he loves; Knows he’s a Cuckold, yet content to bear Whatever Heaven sends, or Horns or lusty Heir. Fops of all sorts he draws more artfully, Than ever on the Stage did Nokes or Leigh: _And Heaven be prais’d when these are Scarce, each Brother O’ th’ Pen contrives to set on one another.

These are the effects of angry Poets Rage, Driven from their Winter-Quarters on the Stage; And when we go, our Women vanish too, What will the well-fledg’d keeping Gallant do? And where but here can he expect to find A gay young Damsel managed to his mind, Who ruins him, and yet seems wondrous kind? One insolent and false, and what is worse, Governs his Heart, and manages his Purse; Makes him whatever she’d have him to believe, Spends his Estate, then learns him how to live? I hope those weighty Considerations will Move ye to keep us altogether still; To treat us equal to our great Desert, And pay your Tributes with a franker Heart; If not, th’ aforesaid Ills will come, and we must part_.