Aphra Behn

The Rover, Part I

The Rover, or the Banished Cavaliers

Behn, Aphra. The Works of Aphra Behn: Volume I . Edited by Montague Summers. London ; Stratford-on-Avon: William Heinemann ; A.H. Bullen, 1915.

Joan Oleza Simó (Investigador principal) FaltaTraductor (Traductor) Summers, Montague (Editor de la edición crítica) Amelang, David J. (Editor digital)

English · Verso · 102 versos

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0) License

https://playcode.fly.dev/plays/EMOTHE0503_TheRoverPartI

Tiempo histórico: Antigüedad clásica
Datación: 1677
=1677

Note on this Digital Edition

This publication is part of the research project «Teatro español y europeo de los siglos XVI y XVII: patrimonio y bases de datos», referencia PID2019-104045GB-C54 (acronym EMOTHE), funded by MICIN/AEI/10.13039/501100011033. This digital edition is an adaptation of the version of The Rover included in Montague Summers' 1915 anthology The Works of Mrs. Aphra Behn . All spelling and punctuation has been modernized using U.S. English spelling conventions, and all abbreviations (primarily found in the stage directions) have been expanded to represent their full meaning. All interventions made by Summers that do not appear in the original 1677 quarto have been marked in between brackets; any additional changes made by the TEI digital text editor have been marked with double brackets. For reference and citation purposes, this edition numbers speeches within each scene; for instance, the suggested reference form for the first speech in the play is 1.1.sp1.

PROLOGUE, Written by a Person of Quality

Wits, like physicians, never can agree When of a different society; And Rabel’s drops were never more cried down By all the learned doctors of the town Than a new play, whose author is unknown. Nor can those doctors with more malice sue (And powerful purses) the dissenting few Than those with an insulting pride do rail At all who are not of their own cabal. If a young poet hit your humor right, You judge him then out of revenge and spite; So amongst men there are ridiculous elves Who monkeys hate for being too like themselves, So that the reason of the grand debate, Why wit so oft is damned when good plays take, Is that you censure as you love or hate. Thus, like a learned conclave, poets sit Catholic judges both of sense and wit, And damn or save as they themselves think fit. Yet those who to others’ faults are so severe Are not so perfect but themselves may err. Some write correct indeed, but then the whole (Bating their own dull stuff i’th’ play) is stole: As bees do suck from flowers their honeydew, So they rob others striving to please you. Some write their characters genteel and fine, But then they do so toil for every line That what to you does easy seem, and plain Is the hard issue of their laboring brain. And some th’effects of all their pains we see Is but to mimic good extempore . Others by long converse about the town Have wit enough to write a leud lampoon, But their chief skill lies in a bawdy song. In short, the only wit that’s now in fashion Is but the gleanings of good conversation. As for the author of this coming play, I asked him what he thought fit I should say In thanks for your good company today: He called me fool, and said it was well known You came not here for our sakes but your own. New plays are stuffed with wits and with debauches, That crowd and sweat like cits in May-Day coaches.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (in alphabetical order

ANGELLICA a famous courtesan

ANTONIO the viceroy’s son

BELVILE an English colonel in love with Florinda

BOY page to Belvile

CALLIS governess to Florinda and Hellena

DIEGO page to Antonio

FLORINDA sister to Pedro

FREDERICK an English gentleman and friend to Belvile and Blunt

HELLENA a gay young woman designed for a nun and sister to Florinda

LUCETTA a jilting wench

MORETTA Angellica’s woman

PEDRO a noble Spaniard and Antonio’s Friend

PHILIPPO Lucetta’s gallant

SANCHO pimp to Lucetta

STEPHANO servant to Pedro

VALERIA kinswoman to Florinda

WILLMORE the rover

Two BRAVOS (Risky and Sebastian) to Angellica, a PAGE to Hellena, SERVANTS, an OFFICER, SOLDIERS and other MASQUERADERS

BLUNT an English country gentleman

ACT ONE

SCENE 1

(SCENE Naples, in carnival time)

(A chamber)

(Enter Florinda and Hellena)

FLORINDA

What an impertinent thing is a young girl bred in a nunnery! How full of questions! Prithee no more, Hellena, I have told thee more than thou understandest already.

HELLENA

The more’s my grief. I would fain know as much as you, which makes me so inquisitive; nor is’t enough to know you’re a lover, unless you tell me too, who ’tis you sigh for.

FLORINDA

When you are a lover, I’ll think you fit for a secret of that nature.

HELLENA

’Tis true, I was never a lover yet, but I begin to have a shrewd guess what ’tis to be so, and fancy it very pretty to sigh and sing, and blush and wish, and dream and wish, and long and wish to see the man. And when I do, look pale and tremble, just as you did when my brother brought home the fine English colonel to see you. What do you call him, Don Belvile?

FLORINDA

Fie, Hellena!

HELLENA

That blush betrays you, I am sure ’tis so! Or is it Don Antonio, the viceroy’s son? Or perhaps the rich old Don Vincentio, whom my father designs for your husband? Why do you blush again?

FLORINDA

With indignation! And how near soever my father thinks I am to marrying that hated object, I shall let him see I understand better what’s due to my beauty, birth and fortune, and more to my soul than to obey those unjust commands.

HELLENA

Now, hang me if I don’t love thee for that dear disobedience! I love mischief strangely, as most of our sex do, who are come to love nothing else. But tell me, dear Florinda, don’t you love that fine Anglese ? For I vow next to loving him myself, ’twill please me most that you do so, for he is so gay and so handsome.

FLORINDA

Hellena, a maid designed for a nun ought not to be so curious in a discourse of love.

HELLENA

And dost thou think that ever I’ll be a nun? Or at least till I’m so old I’m fit for nothing else. Faith no, Sister! And that which makes me long to know whether you love Belvile is because I hope he has some mad companion or other that will spoil my devotion. Nay, I’m resolved to provide myself this carnival if there be e’er a handsome fellow of my humor above ground, though I ask first.

FLORINDA

Prithee, be not so wild!

HELLENA

Now you have provided yourself with a man, you take no care for poor me! Prithee tell me, what dost thou see about me that is unfit for love? Have not I a world of youth? a humor gay? a beauty passable? a vigor desirable? well shaped, clean limbed, sweet breathed, and sense enough to know how all these ought to be employed to the best advantage? Yes, I do and will! Therefore lay aside your hopes of my fortune by my being a devotee, and tell me how you came acquainted with this Belvile, for I perceive you knew him before he came to Naples.

FLORINDA

Yes, I knew him at the siege of Pamplona: he was then a colonel of French horse who, when the town was ransacked, nobly treated my brother and myself, preserving us from all insolences. And I must own (besides great obligations) I have I know not what that pleads kindly for him about my heart, and will suffer no other to enter. But see, my brother!

(Enter Don Pedro, Stephano, with a masking habit, and Callis)

PEDRO

Good morrow, sister. Pray, when saw you your lover, Don Vincentio?

FLORINDA

I know not, Sir. Callis, when was he here? For I consider it so little, I know not when it was.

PEDRO

I have a command from my father here to tell you, you ought not to despise him, a man of so vast a fortune, and such a passion for you. Stephano, my things.

(Puts on his masking habit)

FLORINDA

A passion for me! ‘Tis more than e’er I saw or had a desire should be known! I hate Vincentio, and I would not have a man so dear to me as my brother follow the ill customs of our country and make a slave of his sister. And sir, my father’s will I’m sure you may divert.

PEDRO

I know not how dear I am to you, but I wish only to be ranked in your esteem equal with the English colonel Belvile – Why do you frown and blush? Is there any guilt belongs to the name of that cavalier?

FLORINDA

I’ll not deny I value Belvile; when I was exposed to such dangers as the licensed lust of common soldiers threatened, when rage and conquest flew through the city, then Belvile — this criminal for my sake — threw himself into all dangers to save my honour. And will you not allow him my esteem?

PEDRO

Yes, pay him what you will in honor, but you must consider Don Vincentio’s fortune and the jointure he’ll make you.

FLORINDA

Let him consider my youth, beauty and fortune, which ought not to be thrown away on his age and jointure.

PEDRO

’Tis true, he’s not so young and fine a gentleman as that Belvile. But what jewels will that cavalier present you with? Those of his eyes and heart?

HELLENA

And are not those better than any Don Vincentio has brought from the Indies?

PEDRO

Why, how now! Has your nunnery-breeding taught you to understand the value of hearts and eyes?

HELLENA

Better than to believe Vincentio deserves value from any woman! He may perhaps increase her bags, but not for family.

PEDRO

This is fine! Go up to your devotion, you are not designed for the conversation of lovers.

HELLENA

Nor saints yet a while, I hope.

PEDRO

The girl’s mad! Is it a confinement to be carried into the country, to an ancient villa belonging to the family of the Vincentio’s these five hundred years, and have no other prospect than that pleasing one of seeing all her own that meets her eyes? A fine air, large fields and gardens, where she may walk and gather flowers?

HELLENA

When, by moonlight? For I’m sure she dares not encounter with the heat of the sun; that were a task only for Don Vincentio and his Indian breeding, who loves it in the dog days. And if these be her daily divertissements, what are those of the night? To lie in a wide moth-eaten bedchamber with furniture in fashion in the reign of king Sancho the First, the bed that which his forefathers lived and died in.

PEDRO

Very well.

HELLENA

This apartment (new furbished and fitted out for the young wife) he (out of freedom) makes his dressing room. And being a frugal and a jealous coxcomb, instead of a valet to uncase his feeble carcass he desires you to do that office. Signs of favor, I’ll assure you, and such as you must not hope for unless your woman be out of the way.

PEDRO

Have you done yet?

HELLENA

That honor being past, the giant stretches itself, yawns and sighs a belch or two as loud as a musket, throws himself into bed and expects you in his foul sheets; and e’er you can get yourself undressed, calls you with a snore or two. And are not these fine blessings to a young lady?

PEDRO

Have you done yet?

HELLENA

And this man you must kiss, nay, you must kiss none but him too! and nuzzle through his beard to find his lips! and this you must submit to for threescore years, and all for a jointure.

PEDRO

For all your character of Don Vincentio, she is as like to marry him as she was before.

HELLENA

Marry Don Vincentio! Hang me, such a wedlock would be worse than adultery with another man! I had rather see her in the Hostel de Dieu to waste her youth there in vows and be a handmaid to lazars and cripples than to lose it in such a marriage.

PEDRO

You have considered, sister, that Belvile has no fortune to bring you to, is banished his country, despised at home, and pitied abroad?

HELLENA

What then? the viceroy’s son is better than that old Sir Fisty. Don Vincentio! Don Indian! He thinks he’s trading to Gambo still, and would barter himself (that bell and bauble) for your youth and fortune.

PEDRO

Callis, take her hence and lock her up all this carnival, and at Lent she shall begin her everlasting penance in a monastery.

HELLENA

I care not, I had rather be a nun than be obliged to marry as you would have me, if I were designed for’t.

PEDRO

Do not fear the blessing of that choice: you shall be a nun.

HELLENA

Shall I so? You may chance to be mistaken in my way of devotion. A nun! Yes, I am like to make a fine nun! I have an excellent humor for a grate. No, I’ll have a saint of my own to pray to shortly, if I like any that dares venture on me.

PEDRO

Callis, make it your business to watch this wild cat. As for you, Florinda, I’ve only tried you all this while and urged my father’s will, but mine is that you would love Antonio: he is brave and young, and all that can complete the happiness of a gallant maid. This absence of my father will give us opportunity to free you from Vincentio by marrying here, which you must do tomorrow.

FLORINDA

Tomorrow!

PEDRO

Tomorrow, or ’twill be too late. ’Tis not my friendship to Antonio which makes me urge this but love to thee and hatred to Vincentio, therefore resolve upon’t tomorrow.

FLORINDA

Sir, I shall strive to do, as shall become your sister.

PEDRO

I’ll both believe and trust you, adieu.

(Exit Pedro and Stephano)

HELLENA

As become his sister! That is, to be as resolved your way as he is his.

(Hellena goes to Callis)

FLORINDA

I ne’er till now perceived my ruin near, 50

I’ve no defense against Antonio’s love,

For he has all the advantages of nature,

The moving arguments of youth and fortune.

HELLENA

But hark you, Callis, you will not be so cruel to lock me up indeed, will you?

CALLIS

I must obey the commands I hate; besides, do you consider what a life you are going to lead?

HELLENA

Yes, Callis, that of a nun, and till then I’ll be indebted a world of prayers to you if you let me now see what I never did: the divertissements of a carnival!

CALLIS

What, go in masquerade? ’Twill be a fine farewell to the world I take it. Pray, what would you do there?

HELLENA

That which all the world does, as I am told: be as mad as the rest, and take all innocent freedom! Sister, you’ll go too, will you not? Come, prithee be not sad! We’ll outwit twenty brothers if you’ll be ruled by me. Come, put off this dull humor with your clothes, and assume one as gay and as fantastic as the dress my cousin Valeria and I have provided, and let’s ramble.

FLORINDA

Callis, will you give us leave to go?

CALLIS

I have a youthful itch of going myself!

FLORINDA

Thou see’st my brother’s gone already, and thou shalt attend and watch us.

(Enter Stephano)

STEPHANO

Madam, the habits are come, and your cousin Valeria is dressed and stays for you.

FLORINDA

’Tis well! I’ll write a note, and if I chance to see Belvile and want an opportunity to speak to him, that shall let him know what I’ve resolved in favor of him.

HELLENA

Come, let’s in and dress us.

(Exeunt)

SCENE 2

(A long street)

(Enter Belvile, melancholy, Blunt and Frederick)

FREDERICK

Why, what the devil ails the colonel, in a time when all the world is gay, to look like mere Lent thus? Hadst thou been long enough in Naples to have been in love, I should have sworn some such judgment had befallen thee.

BELVILE

No, I have made no new amours since I came to Naples.

FREDERICK

You have left none behind you in Paris.

BELVILE

Neither.

FREDERICK

I can’t divine the cause then, unless the old cause: the want of money.

BLUNT

And another old cause: the want of a wench. Would not that revive you?

BELVILE

You’re mistaken, Ned.

BLUNT

Nay, ’sheartlikins, then thou art past cure.

FREDERICK

I have found it out: thou hast renewed thy acquaintance with the lady that cost thee so many sighs at the siege of Pamplona. Pox on’t, what d’ye call her – her brother’s a noble Spaniard – nephew to the dead general – Florinda! Ay, Florinda! And will nothing serve thy turn but that damned virtuous woman, whom on my conscience thou lovest in spite too, because thou seest little or no possibility of gaining her?

BELVILE

Thou art mistaken, I have interest enough in that lovely virgin’s heart to make me proud and vain, were it not abated by the severity of a brother, who perceiving my happiness –

FREDERICK

Has civilly forbid thee the house?

BELVILE

’Tis so, to make way for a powerful rival, the viceroy’s son, who has the advantage of me in being a man of fortune, a Spaniard, and her brother’s friend, which gives him liberty to make his court whilst I have recourse only to letters and distant looks from her window, which are as soft and kind as those which Heaven sends down on penitents.

BLUNT

Hey day! ’Sheartlikins, simile! By this light the man is quite spoiled. Frederick, what the devil are we made of that we cannot be thus concerned for a wench? ’Sheartlikins, our cupids are like the cooks of the camp: they can roast or boil a woman, but they have none of the fine tricks to set ’em off, no hogoes to make the sauce pleasant and the stomach sharp.

FREDERICK

I dare swear I have had a hundred as young, kind and handsome as this Florinda, and dogs eat me if they were not as troublesome to me i’th’ morning as they were welcome o’er night.

BLUNT

And yet, I warrant, he would not touch another woman if he might have her for nothing.

BELVILE

That’s thy joy, a cheap whore.

BLUNT

Why, ’sheartlikins, I love a frank soul! When did you ever hear of an honest woman that took a man’s money? I warrant ’em good ones. But, gentlemen, you may be free, you have been kept so poor with parliaments and protectors that the little stock you have is not worth preserving, but I thank my stars I have more grace than to forfeit my estate by cavaliering.

BELVILE

Methinks only following the court should be sufficient to entitle ’em to that.

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, they know I follow it to do it no good, unless they pick a hole in my coat for lending you money now and then, which is a greater crime to my conscience, gentlemen, than to the Commonwealth.

(Enter Willmore)

WILLMORE

Ha! Dear Belvile! Noble Colonel!

BELVILE

Willmore! welcome ashore, my dear rover! What happy wind blew us this good fortune?

WILLMORE

Let me salute you my dear Fred, and then command me. How is’t, honest lad?

FREDERICK

Faith, sir, the old complement, infinitely the better to see my dear mad Willmore again! Prithee, why camest thou ashore? And where’s the prince?

WILLMORE

He’s well, and reigns still lord of the watery element. I must aboard again within a day or two, and my business ashore was only to enjoy myself a little this carnival.

BELVILE

Pray know our new friend, sir. He’s but bashful, a raw traveler, but honest, stout, and one of us.

(Embraces Blunt)

WILLMORE

That you esteem him gives him an interest here.

BLUNT

Your servant, sir.

WILLMORE

But well! Faith, I’m glad to meet you again in a warm climate, where the kind sun has its god-like power still over the wine and woman. Love and mirth are my business in Naples, and if I mistake not the place, here’s an excellent market for chapmen of my humor.

BELVILE

See, here be those kind merchants of love you look for.

(Enter several men in masking habits, some playing on music, others dancing after; women dressed like courtesans, with papers pinned to their breasts and baskets of flowers in their hands)

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, what have we here!

FREDERICK

Now the game begins.

WILLMORE

Fine pretty creatures! May a stranger have leave to look and love? What’s here – (Reads the paper) “Roses for every month”!

BLUNT

“Roses for every month.” What means that?

BELVILE

They are, or would have you think they’re courtesans, who here in Naples are to be hired by the month.

WILLMORE

Kind and obliging to inform us! Pray, where do these roses grow? I would fain plant some of ’em in a bed of mine.

WOMAN

Beware such roses, sir.

WILLMORE

A pox of fear! I’ll be baked with thee between a pair of sheets, and that’s thy proper still, so I might but strow such roses over me and under me. Fair one, would you would give me leave to gather at your bush this idle month, I would go near to make some body smell of it all the year after.

BELVILE

And thou hast need of such a remedy, for thou stinkest of tar and rope-ends like a dock or pesthouse.

(The woman puts herself into the hands of a man, and exit)

WILLMORE

Nay, nay, you shall not leave me so!

BELVILE

By all means, use no violence here!

WILLMORE

Death! Just as I was going to be damnably in love, to have her led off! I could pluck that rose out of his hand, and even kiss the bed, the bush it grew in.

FREDERICK

No friend to love like a long voyage at sea.

BLUNT

Except a nunnery, Fred.

WILLMORE

Death! But will they not be kind, quickly be kind? Thou knowst I’m no tame sigher, but a rampant lion of the forest.

(Two men dressed all over with horns of several sorts, making grimaces at one another, with papers pinned on their backs, advance from the farther end of the scene)

BELVILE

Oh the fantastical rogues, how they are dressed! ’Tis a satire against the whole sex.

WILLMORE

Is this a fruit that grows in this warm country?

BELVILE

Yes: ’tis pretty to see these Italian start, swell, and stab at the word ‘cuckold,’ and yet stumble at horns on every threshold.

WILLMORE

See what’s on their back: (Reads) “Flowers for every night.” Ah, rogue! And more sweet than roses of every month! This is a gardener of Adam’s own breeding.

(They dance)

BELVILE

What think you of those grave people? Is a wake in Essex half so mad or extravagant?

WILLMORE

I like their sober grave way, ’tis a kind of legal authorized fornication, where the men are not chid for’t, nor the women despised, as amongst our dull English; even the monsieurs want that part of good manners.

BELVILE

But here in Italy a monsieur is the humblest best-bred gentleman; duels are so baffled by bravos that an age shews not one but between a Frenchman and a hangman, who is as much too hard for him on the piazza as they are for a Dutchman on the New Bridge. But see, another crew.

(Enter Florinda, Hellena, and Valeria, dressed like gypsies; Callis and Stephano, Lucetta, Phillippo and Sancho in masquerade)

HELLENA

Sister, there’s your Englishman, and with him a handsome proper fellow. I’ll to him, and instead of telling him his fortune, try my own.

WILLMORE

Gypsies, on my life! Sure these will prattle if a man cross their hands. (Goes to Hellena) Dear pretty (and I hope) young devil, will you tell an amorous stranger what luck he’s like to have?

HELLENA

Have a care how you venture with me, sir, lest I pick your pocket, which will more vex your English humor than an Italian fortune will please you.

WILLMORE

How the devil camest thou to know my country and humour?

HELLENA

The first I guess by a certain forward impudence, which does not displease me at this time; and the loss of your money will vex you because I hope you have but very little to lose.

WILLMORE

Egad child, thou’rt i’th’ right: it is so little I dare not offer it thee for a kindness. But cannot you divine what other things of more value I have about me that I would more willingly part with?

HELLENA

Indeed no, that’s the business of a witch, and I am but a gypsy yet. Yet, without looking in your hand, I have a parlous guess ’tis some foolish heart you mean, an inconstant English heart as little worth stealing as your purse.

WILLMORE

Nay, then thou dost deal with the devil, that’s certain! Thou hast guessed as right as if thou hadst been one of that number it has languished for. I find you’ll be better acquainted with it. Nor can you take it in a better time, for I am come from sea, child, and Venus not being propitious to me in her own element, I have a world of love in store. Would you would be good-natured and take some on’t off my hands?

HELLENA

Why, I could be inclined that way, but for a foolish vow I am going to make – to die a maid.

WILLMORE

Then thou art damned without redemption, and as I am a good Christian I ought in charity to divert so wicked a design. Therefore prithee, dear creature, let me know quickly when and where I shall begin to set a helping hand to so good a work.

HELLENA

If you should prevail with my tender heart (as I begin to fear you will, for you have horrible loving eyes) there will be difficulty in’t that you’ll hardly undergo for my sake.

WILLMORE

Faith, child, I have been bred in dangers, and wear a sword that has been employed in a worse cause than for a handsome kind woman. Name the danger: let it be anything but a long siege, and I’ll undertake it.

HELLENA

Can you storm?

WILLMORE

Oh, most furiously.

HELLENA

What think you of a nunnery wall? For he that wins me, must gain that first.

WILLMORE

A nun! Oh, how I love thee for’t! There’s no sinner like a young saint. Nay, now there’s no denying me: the old law had no curse (to a woman) like dying a maid; witness Jephthah’s daughter.

HELLENA

A very good text this, if well handled. And I perceive, Father Captain, you would impose no severe penance on her who was inclined to console herself before she took orders.

WILLMORE

If she be young and handsome.

HELLENA

Ay, there’s it, but if she be not –

WILLMORE

By this hand, child, I have an implicit faith and dare venture on thee with all faults. Besides, ’tis more meritorious to leave the world when thou hast tasted and proved the pleasure on’t; then ’twill be a virtue in thee, which now will be pure ignorance.

HELLENA

I perceive, good Father Captain, you design only to make me fit for Heaven. But, if on the contrary you should quite divert me from it and bring me back to the world again, I should have a new man to seek, I find, and what a grief that will be – for when I begin, I fancy I shall love like anything. I never tried yet.

WILLMORE

Egad, and that’s kind! Prithee, dear creature, give me credit for a heart, for faith, I’m a very honest fellow. Oh, I long to come first to the banquet of love, and such a swinging appetite I bring – Oh, I’m impatient! Thy lodging, sweetheart, thy lodging or I’m a dead man!

HELLENA

Why must we be either guilty of fornication or murder if we converse with you men? And is there no difference between leave to love me, and leave to lie with me?

WILLMORE

Faith, child, they were made to go together.

LUCETTA

(Pointing to Blunt) Are you sure this is the man?

SANCHO

When did I mistake your game?

LUCETTA

This is a stranger, I know by his gazing. If he be brisk, he’ll venture to follow me; and then, if I understand my trade, he’s mine. He’s English too, and they say that’s a sort of good-natured loving people, and have generally so kind an opinion of themselves that a woman with any wit may flatter ’em into any sort of fool she pleases.

(She often passes by Blunt and gazes on him; he struts, and cocks, and walks, and gazes on her)

BLUNT

’Tis so, she is taken! I have beauties which my false glass at home did not discover.

FLORINDA

This woman watches me so, I shall get no opportunity to discover myself to him, and so miss the intent of my coming.

BELVILE

I thought how right you guessed: all men are in love, or pretend to be so. (Walks away) Come, let me go, I’m weary of this fooling.

FLORINDA

I will not, till you have confessed whether the passion that you have vowed Florinda be true or false.

(She holds him, he strives to get from her)

BELVILE

(Turns quick towards her) Florinda!

FLORINDA

Softly.

BELVILE

Thou hast named one will fix me here forever.

FLORINDA

She’ll be disappointed, then, who expects you this night at the garden gate, and if you’ll fail not – as let me see the other hand – you will go near to do. She vows to die or make you happy.

(Looks on Callis, who observes ’em)

BELVILE

What canst thou mean?

FLORINDA

That which I say. Farewell.

(Offers to go)

BELVILE

Oh charming sybil, stay, complete that joy which as it is will turn into distraction! Where must I be? At the garden gate? I know it – at night you say – I’ll sooner forfeit Heaven than disobey.

(Enter Don Pedro and other maskers, and pass over the stage)

CALLIS

Madam, your brother’s here.

FLORINDA

Take this to instruct you farther.

(Gives him a letter, and goes off)

FREDERICK

Have a care, sir, what you promise: this may be a trap laid by her brother to ruin you.

BELVILE

Do not disturb my happiness with doubts.

(Opens the letter)

WILLMORE

My dear pretty creature, a thousand blessings on thee. Still in this habit, you say, and after dinner at this place.

HELLENA

Yes, if you will swear to keep your heart and not bestow it between this time and that.

WILLMORE

By all the little gods of love I swear, I’ll leave it with you. And if you run away with it, those deities of justice will revenge me.

(Exit all the women except Lucetta)

FREDERICK

Do you know the hand?

BELVILE

’Tis Florinda’s! All blessings fall upon the virtuous maid.

FREDERICK

Nay, no idolatry, a sober sacrifice I’ll allow you.

BELVILE

Oh friends! The welcomest news, the softest letter! Nay, you shall see it, and could you now be serious I might be made the happiest man the sun shines on.

WILLMORE

The reason of this mighty joy?

BELVILE

See how kindly she invites me to deliver her from the threatened violence of her brother. Will you not assist me?

WILLMORE

I know not what thou meanest, but I’ll make one at any mischief where a woman’s concerned. But she’ll be grateful to us for the favor, will she not?

BELVILE

How mean you?

WILLMORE

How should I mean? Thou knowest there’s but one way for a woman to oblige me.

BELVILE

Don’t prophane, the maid is nicely virtuous.

WILLMORE

Who pox, then she’s fit for nothing but a husband. Let her e’en go, colonel.

FREDERICK

Peace, she’s the colonel’s mistress, sir.

WILLMORE

Let her be the devil: if she be thy mistress, I’ll serve her. Name the way.

BELVILE

Read here this postscript.

(Gives him a letter)

WILLMORE

(Reads) “At ten at night, at the garden gate – of which, if I cannot get the key, I will contrive a way over the wall; come attended with a friend or two.” Kind heart, if we three cannot weave a string to let her down a garden wall,’twere pity but the hangman wove one for us all.

FREDERICK

Let her alone for that: your woman’s wit, your fair kind woman, will outtrick a brother or a Jew and contrive like a Jesuit in chains. But see, Ned Blunt is stolen out after the lure of a damsel!

(Exit Blunt and Lucetta)

BELVILE

So he’ll scarce find his way home again unless we get him cried by the bellman in the marketplace, and ’twould sound prettily: a lost English boy of thirty.

FREDERICK

I hope ’tis some common crafty sinner, one that will fit him. It may be she’ll sell him for Peru, the rogue’s sturdy and would work well in a mine. At least I hope she’ll dress him for our mirth, cheat him of all, then have him well-favoredly banged, and turned out naked at midnight.

WILLMORE

Prithee, what humor is he of, that you wish him so well?

BELVILE

Why, of an English elder brother’s humor: educated in a nursery with a maid to tend him till fifteen, and lies with his grandmother till he’s of age; one that knows no pleasure beyond riding to the next fair or going up to London with his right worshipful father in parliament time, wearing gay clothes or making honorable love to his lady mother’s laundry maid; gets drunk at a hunting match, and ten to one then gives some proofs of his prowess. A pox upon him! He’s our banker and has all our cash about him, and if he fail we are all broke.

FREDERICK

Oh let him alone for that matter, he’s of a damned stingy quality, that will secure our stock. I know not in what danger it were indeed, if the jilt should pretend she’s in love with him, for ’tis a kind believing coxcomb. Otherwise, if he part with more than a piece of eight, geld him; for which offer he may chance to be beaten, if she be a whore of the first rank.

BELVILE

Nay, the rogue will not be easily beaten, he’s stout enough. Perhaps if they talk beyond his capacity he may chance to exercise his courage upon some of them. Else I’m sure they’ll find it as difficult to beat as to please him.

WILLMORE

’Tis a lucky devil to light upon so kind a wench!

FREDERICK

Thou hadst a great deal of talk with thy little gypsy, couldst thou do no good upon her? For mine was hard-hearted.

WILLMORE

Hang her, she was some damned honest person of quality, I’m sure, she was so very free and witty. If her face be but answerable to her wit and humor, I would be bound to constancy this month to gain her. In the meantime, have you made no kind acquaintance since you came to town? You do not use to be honest so long, gentlemen.

FREDERICK

Faith, love has kept us honest, we have been all fired with a beauty newly come to town: the famous Paduana Angellica Bianca.

WILLMORE

What, the mistress of the dead Spanish general?

BELVILE

Yes, she’s now the only adored beauty of all the youth in Naples, who put on all their charms to appear lovely in her sight: their coaches, liveries, and themselves all gay as on a monarch’s birthday, to attract the eyes of this fair charmer while she has the pleasure to behold all languish for her that see her.

FREDERICK

’Tis pretty to see with how much love the men regard her, and how much envy the women.

WILLMORE

What gallant has she?

BELVILE

None, she’s exposed to sale, and four days in the week she’s yours, for so much a month.

WILLMORE

The very thought of it quenches all manner of fire in me. Yet prithee, let’s see her.

BELVILE

Let’s first to dinner, and after that we’ll pass the day as you please. But at night ye must all be at my devotion.

WILLMORE

I will not fail you.

([Exeunt])

ACT TWO

SCENE 1

(The long street)

(Enter Belvile and Frederick in masking habits, and Willmore in his own clothes with a vizard in his hand)

WILLMORE

But why thus disguised and muzzled?

BELVILE

Because whatever extravagances we commit in these faces, our own may not be obliged to answer ’em.

WILLMORE

I should have changed my eternal buff too: but no matter, my little gypsy would not have found me out then, for if she should change hers it is impossible I should know her unless I should hear her prattle. A pox on’t, I cannot get her out of my head! Pray heaven if ever I do see her again, she prove damnable ugly that I may fortify myself against her tongue.

BELVILE

Have a care of love, for o’ my conscience she was not of a quality to give thee any hopes.

WILLMORE

Pox on ’em, why do they draw a man in then? She has played with my heart so, that ’twill never lie still till I have met with some kind wench that will play the game out with me! Oh, for my arms full of soft, white, kind woman such as I fancy Angellica.

BELVILE

This is her house, if you were but in stock to get admittance. They have not dined yet: I perceive the picture is not out.

(Enter Blunt)

WILLMORE

I long to see the shadow of the fair substance, a man may gaze on that for nothing.

BLUNT

Colonel, thy hand – and thine, Fred. I have been an ass, a deluded fool, a very coxcomb from my birth till this hour, and heartily repent my little faith.

BELVILE

What the devil’s the matter with thee, Ned?

BLUNT

Oh such a mistress, Fred, such a girl!

WILLMORE

Ha! Where?

FREDERICK

Ay, where?

BLUNT

So fond, so amorous, so toying and fine! And all for sheer love, ye rogue! Oh how she looked and kissed! And soothed my heart from my bosom! I cannot think I was awake, and yet methinks I see and feel her charms still! Fred, try if she have not left the taste of her balmy kisses upon my lips –

(Kisses him)

BELVILE

Ha, ha, ha!

WILLMORE

Death, man, where is she?

BLUNT

What a dog was I to stay in dull England so long! How have I laughed at the colonel when he sighed for love! But now the little archer has revenged him, and by his own dart I can guess at all his joys which then I took for fancies, mere dreams and fables – Well, I’m resolved to sell all in Essex and plant here forever.

BELVILE

What a blessing ’tis thou hast a mistress thou darest boast of, for I know thy humor is rather to have a proclaimed clap than a secret amour.

WILLMORE

Dost know her name?

BLUNT

Her name? No, ’sheartlikins: what care I for names? She’s fair, young, brisk and kind, even to ravishment; and what a pox care I for knowing her by another title?

WILLMORE

Didst give her anything?

BLUNT

Give her! Ha, ha, ha! Why, she’s a person of quality! That’s a good one, ‘give her’! ’Sheartlikins, dost think such creatures are to be bought? Or are we provided for such a purchase? Give her, quoth ye? Why, she presented me with this bracelet for the toy of a diamond I used to wear! No, gentlemen, Ned Blunt is not everybody – she expects me again tonight.

WILLMORE

Egad that’s well; we’ll all go.

BLUNT

Not a soul: no, gentlemen, you are wits; I am a dull country rogue, I.

FREDERICK

Well, Sir, for all your person of quality I shall be very glad to understand your purse be secure: ’tis our whole estate at present, which we are loath to hazard in one bottom. Come, sir, unload.

BLUNT

Take the necessary trifle, useless now to me, that am beloved by such a gentlewoman. ’Sheartlikins, money! Here, take mine too.

FREDERICK

No, keep that to be cozened, that we may laugh.

WILLMORE

Cozened! Death! Would I could meet with one that would cozen me of all the love I could spare tonight.

FREDERICK

Pox, ’tis some common whore, upon my life.

BLUNT

A whore! Yes, with such clothes! Such jewels! Such a house! Such furniture, and so attended! A whore!

BELVILE

Why yes, sir, they are whores, though they’ll neither entertain you with drinking, swearing, or bawdy; are whores in all those gay clothes and right jewels; are whores with great houses richly furnished with velvet beds, store of plate, handsome attendance, and fine coaches; are whores, and errant ones.

WILLMORE

Pox on’t, where do these fine whores live?

BELVILE

Where no rogue in office yclept constables dare give ’em laws, nor the wine-inspired bullies of the town break their windows; yet they are whores, though this Essex calf believe them persons of quality.

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, y’are all fools, there are things about this Essex calf that shall take with the ladies beyond all your wits and parts! This shape and size, gentlemen, are not to be despised; my waist tolerably long, with other inviting signs that shall be nameless.

WILLMORE

Egad, I believe he may have met with some person of quality that may be kind to him.

BELVILE

Dost thou perceive any such tempting things about him, should make a fine woman – and of quality – pick him out from all mankind to throw away her youth and beauty upon, nay, and her dear heart too? No, no, Angellica has raised the price too high.

WILLMORE

May she languish for mankind till she die, and be damned for that one sin alone.

(Enter two bravos, and hang up a great picture of Angellica’s against the balcony, and two little ones at each side of the door)

BELVILE

See there the fair sign to the inn, where a man may lodge that’s fool enough to give her price.

(Willmore gazes on the picture)

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, gentlemen, what’s this?

BELVILE

A famous courtesan that’s to be sold.

BLUNT

A how! To be sold! Nay, then I have nothing to say to her – Sold! What impudence is practiced in this country? With order and decency whoring’s established here by virtue of the Inquisition! Come let’s be gone, I’m sure we’re no chapmen for this commodity.

FREDERICK

Thou art none, I’m sure, unless thou couldst have her in thy bed at the price of a coach in the street.

WILLMORE

How wondrous fair she is – a thousand crowns a month, by Heaven as many kingdoms were too little! A plague of this poverty, of which I ne’er complain but when it hinders my approach to beauty, which virtue ne’er could purchase.

(Turns from the picture)

BLUNT

What’s this? (Reads) “A thousand crowns a month.” ’Sheartlikins, here’s a sum! Sure ’tis a mistake. Hark you, friend, does she take or give so much by the month!

FREDERICK

A thousand crowns! Why, ’tis a portion for the infanta .

BLUNT

Hark ye, friends, won’t she trust?

BRAVO

This is a trade, sir, that cannot live by credit.

(Enter Don Pedro in masquerade, followed by Stephano)

BELVILE

See, here’s more company, let’s walk off a while.

(Pedro reads; exeunt English)

(Enter Angelica and Moretta in the balcony, and draw a silk curtain)

PEDRO

Fetch me a thousand crowns, I never wish to buy this beauty at an easier rate.

(Passes off)

ANGELLICA

Prithee what said those fellows to thee?

BRAVO

Madam, the first were admirers of beauty only, but no purchasers; they were merry with your price and picture, laughed at the sum, and so passed off.

ANGELLICA

No matter, I’m not displeased with their rallying: their wonder feeds my vanity, and he that wishes to buy gives me more pride than he that gives my price can make me pleasure.

BRAVO

Madam, the last I knew through all his disguises to be Don Pedro, nephew to the general, and who was with him in Pamplona.

ANGELLICA

Don Pedro! My old gallant’s nephew! When his uncle died he left him a vast sum of money; it is he who was so in love with me at Padua and who used to make the general so jealous.

MORETTA

Is this he that used to prance before our window and take such care to shew himself an amorous ass? If I am not mistaken, he is the likeliest man to give your price.

ANGELLICA

The man is brave and generous, but of an humor so uneasy and inconstant, that the victory over his heart is as soon lost as won, a slave that can add little to the triumph of the conqueror. But inconstancy’s the sin of all mankind, therefore I’m resolved that nothing but gold shall charm my heart.

MORETTA

I’m glad on’t, ’tis only interest that women of our profession ought to consider; though I wonder what has kept you from that general disease of our sex so long – I mean that of being in love.

ANGELLICA

A kind but sullen star, under which I had the happiness to be born. Yet I have had no time for love, the bravest and noblest of mankind have purchased my favors at so dear a rate as if no coin but gold were current with our trade. But here’s Don Pedro again: fetch me my lute, for ’tis for him or Don Antonio the viceroy’s son that I have spread my nets.

(Enter at one door Don Pedro, and Stephano; Don Antonio and Diego [his page] at the other door, with people following him in masquerade antiquely attired, some with music; they both go up to the picture)

ANTONIO

A thousand crowns! Had not the painter flattered her, I should not think it dear.

PEDRO

Flattered her! By Heaven, he cannot. I have seen the original, nor is there one charm here more than adorns her face and eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing air, that no artist can represent.

ANTONIO

What I heard of her beauty before had fired my soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it into a flame.

PEDRO

Ha!

DIEGO

Sir, I have known you throw away a thousand crowns on a worse face, and though y’are near your marriage, you may venture a little love here. Florinda will not miss it.

PEDRO

Ha! Florinda! Sure ’tis Antonio.

ANTONIO

Florinda! Name not those distant joys, there’s not one thought of her will check my passion here.

PEDRO

Florinda scorned! And all my hopes defeated of the possession of Angellica!

(Song to a lute above)

SONG

When Damon first began to love, 66

He languished in a soft desire,

And knew not how the gods to move,

To lessen or increase his fire,

For Celia in her charming eyes

Wore all love’s sweet, and all his cruelties.

But as beneath a shade he lay,

Weaving of flowers for Celia’s hair,

She chanced to lead her flock that way,

And saw the am’rous shepherd there.

She gazed around upon the place,

And saw the grove (resembling night)

To all the joys of love invite,

Whilst guilty smiles and blushes dressed her face.

At this the bashful youth all transport grew,

And with kind force he taught the virgin how

To yield what all his sighs could never do.

(Angellica throws open the curtains and bows to Antonio, who pulls off his vizard and bows and blows up kisses; Pedro, unseen, looks in his face)

ANTONIO

By Heaven, she’s charming fair! 67

PEDRO

’Tis he, the false Antonio! 68

ANTONIO

(To the bravo) Friend, where must I pay my offering of love? 69

My thousand crowns, I mean.

PEDRO

That offering I have designed to make, 70

And yours will come too late.

ANTONIO

Prithee be gone, I shall grow angry else, 71

And then thou art not safe.

PEDRO

My anger may be fatal, sir, as yours, 72

And he that enters here may prove this truth.

ANTONIO

I know not who thou art, but I am sure thou’rt worth my killing and aiming at Angellica.

(They draw and fight)

(Enter Willmore and Blunt, who draw and part ’em)

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, here’s fine doings.

WILLMORE

Tilting for the wench, I’m sure. Nay gad, if that would win her I have as good a sword as the best of ye. Put up, put up, and take another time and place for this is designed for lovers only.

(They all put up)

PEDRO

We are prevented; dare you meet me tomorrow on the Molo? 76

For I’ve a title to a better quarrel,

That of Florinda, in whose credulous heart

Thou’st made an interest, and destroyed my hopes.

ANTONIO

Dare? 77

I’ll meet thee there as early as the day.

PEDRO

We will come thus disguised, that whosoever chance to get the better he may escape unknown.

ANTONIO

It shall be so. [Exit Pedro and Stephano] Who should this rival be? Unless the English colonel of whom I’ve often heard Don Pedro speak; it must be he, and time he were removed who lays a claim to all my happiness.

(Willmore, having gazed all this while on the picture, pulls down a little one)

WILLMORE

This posture’s loose and negligent, 80

The sight on’t would beget a warm desire

In souls, whom impotence and age had chilled.

This must along with me.

BRAVO

What means this rudeness, sir? Restore the picture.

ANTONIO

Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair Angellica! Restore the picture, sir.

WILLMORE

Indeed I will not, sir.

ANTONIO

By Heaven, but you shall.

WILLMORE

Nay, do not show your sword: if you do, by this dear beauty I will show mine too.

ANTONIO

What right can you pretend to’t?

WILLMORE

That of possession which I will maintain. You, perhaps, have 1000 crowns to give for the original.

ANTONIO

No matter, Sir, you shall restore the Picture.

(Angellica and Moretta above)

ANGELLICA

Oh, Moretta! What’s the matter?

ANTONIO

Or leave your life behind.

WILLMORE

Death! You lie, I will do neither.

ANGELLICA

Hold, I command you, if for me you fight.

(They fight, the Spaniards join with Antonio, Blunt laying on like mad; they leave off and bow)

WILLMORE

How heavenly fair she is! Ah plague of her price.

ANGELLICA

You sir in buff, you that appear a soldier, that first began this insolence.

WILLMORE

’Tis true, I did so, if you call it insolence for a man to preserve himself. I saw your charming picture and was wounded, quite through my soul each pointed beauty ran, and wanting a thousand crowns to procure my remedy I laid this little picture to my bosom – which, if you cannot allow me, I’ll resign.

ANGELLICA

No, you may keep the trifle.

ANTONIO

You shall first ask my leave, and this.

(Fight again as before)

(Enter Belvile and Frederick who join with the English)

ANGELLICA

Hold! Will you ruin me? Biskey, Sebastian, part them!

(The Spaniards are beaten off)

MORETTA

Oh madam, we’re undone, a pox upon that rude fellow, he’s set on to ruin us; we shall never see good days till all these fighting poor rogues are sent to the galleys.

(Enter Belvile, Blunt and Willmore, with his shirt bloody)

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, beat me at this sport and I’ll ne’er wear sword more.

BELVILE

(To Willmore) The devil’s in thee for a mad fellow, thou art always one at an unlucky adventure. Come, let’s be gone whilst we’re safe, and remember these are Spaniards, a sort of people that know how to revenge an affront.

FREDERICK

You bleed; I hope you are not wounded.

WILLMORE

Not much; a plague upon your dons , if they fight no better they’ll ne’er recover Flanders. What the devil was’t to them that I took down the picture?

BLUNT

Took it! ’Sheartlikins, we’ll have the great one too, ’tis ours by conquest. Prithee, help me up, and I’ll pull it down.

ANGELLICA

Stay, sir, and e’er you affront me further let me know how you durst commit this outrage. To you I speak, sir, for you appear like a gentleman.

WILLMORE

To me, madam? Gentlemen, your servant.

(Belvile stays him)

BELVILE

Is the Devil in thee? Dost know the danger of entering the house of an incensed courtesan?

WILLMORE

I thank you for your care, but there are other matters in hand, there are, though we have no great temptation. Death! Let me go.

FREDERICK

Yes, to your lodging if you will, but not in here. Damn these gay harlots, by this hand I’ll have as sound and handsome a whore for a patacoon. Death, man, she’ll murder thee.

WILLMORE

Oh! Fear me not, shall I not venture where a beauty calls? A lovely charming beauty? For fear of danger! When by Heaven there’s none so great as to long for her, whilst I want money to purchase her.

FREDERICK

Therefore ’tis loss of time unless you had the thousand crowns to pay.

WILLMORE

It may be she may give a favor, at least I shall have the pleasure of saluting her when I enter and when I depart.

BELVILE

Pox, she’ll as soon lie with thee as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either; you shall not go.

ANGELLICA

Fear not, sir, all I have to wound with is my eyes.

BLUNT

Let him go, ’sheartlikins, I believe the gentlewoman means well.

BELVILE

Well, take thy fortune; we’ll expect you in the next street. Farewell, fool, farewell.

WILLMORE

Bye, colonel.

(Goes in)

FREDERICK

The rogue’s stark mad for a wench.

(Exeunt)

SCENE 2

(A fine chamber)

(Enter Willmore, Angellica, and Moretta)

ANGELLICA

Insolent sir, how durst you pull down my picture?

WILLMORE

Rather, how durst you set it up, to tempt poor amorous mortals with so much excellence, which I find you have but too well consulted by the unmerciful price you set upon’t? Is all this heaven of beauty shown to move despair in those that cannot buy? And can you think the effects of that despair should be less extravagant than I have shown?

ANGELLICA

I sent for you to ask my pardon, sir, not to aggravate your crime. I thought I should have seen you at my feet imploring it.

WILLMORE

You are deceived, I came to rail at you, and talk such truths, too, as shall let you see the vanity of that pride which taught you how to set such a price on sin. For such it is, whilst that which is love’s due is meanly bartered for.

ANGELLICA

– and guess my business

MORETTA

He knows himself of old, I believe those breeches and he have been acquainted ever since he was beaten at Worcester.

ANGELLICA

Nay, do not abuse the poor creature.

MORETTA

Good weather-beaten corporal, will you march off? We have no need of your doctrine, though you have of our charity; but at present we have no scraps, we can afford no kindness for God’s sake; in fine, sirrah, the price is too high i’th’ mouth for you, therefore troop, I say.

WILLMORE

Here, good forewoman of the shop, serve me, and I’ll be gone.

MORETTA

Keep it to pay your laundress, your linen stinks of the gun room, for here’s no selling by retail.

WILLMORE

Thou hast sold plenty of thy stale ware at a cheap rate.

MORETTA

Ay, the more silly kind heart I, but this is an age wherein beauty is at higher rates. In fine, you know the price of this.

WILLMORE

I grant you ’tis here set down a thousand crowns a month. Bawd, take your black lead and sum it up that I may have a pistole-worth of these vain gay things, and I’ll trouble you no more.

MORETTA

Pox on him, he’ll fret me to death: abominable fellow, I tell thee, we only sell by the whole piece.

WILLMORE

’Tis very hard, the whole cargo or nothing. Faith, madam, my stock will not reach it, I cannot be your chapman. Yet I have countrymen in town, merchants of love like me; I’ll see if they’ll put for a share, we cannot lose much by it, and what we have no use for we’ll sell upon the Friday’s Mart at “Who gives more?”. I am studying, madam, how to purchase you, though at present I am unprovided of money.

ANGELLICA

Sure, this from any other man would anger me, nor shall he know the conquest he has made.

WILLMORE

Yes, I am poor, but I’m a gentleman, 17

And one that scorns this baseness which you practice.

Poor as I am, I would not sell myself,

No, not to gain your charming high-prized person.

Though I admire you strangely for your beauty,

Yet I condemn your mind.

And yet I would at any rate enjoy you;

At your own rate – but cannot – See here

The only sum I can command on earth:

I know not where to eat when this is gone,

Yet such a slave I am to love and beauty,

This last reserve I’ll sacrifice to enjoy you.

Nay, do not frown, I know you are to be bought,

And would be bought by me, by me,

For a mean trifling sum, if I could pay it down.

Which happy knowledge I will still repeat,

And lay it to my heart, it has a virtue in’t,

And soon will cure those wounds your eyes have made.

And yet – there’s something so divinely powerful there –

Nay, I will gaze – to let you see my strength.

((Holds her, looks on her, and pauses and sighs))

By Heaven, bright creature, I would not for the world

Thy fame were half so fair as is thy face.

(Turns her away from him)

ANGELLICA

His words go through me to the very soul. 18

[To Willmore] If you have nothing else to say to me.

WILLMORE

Yes, you shall hear how infamous you are – 19

For which I do not hate thee –

But that secures my heart, and all the flames it feels

Are but so many lusts:

I know it by their sudden bold intrusion.

The fire’s impatient and betrays, ’tis false,

For had it been the purer flame of love,

I should have pined and languished at your feet,

Ere found the impudence to have discovered it.

I now dare stand your scorn and your denial.

MORETTA

Sure she’s bewitched, that she can stand thus tamely and hear his saucy railing.

ANGELLICA

[To Moretta] How dare you take this liberty? Withdraw! Pray, tell me, sir, are not you guilty of the same mercenary crime? When a lady is proposed to you for a wife, you never ask how fair, discreet, or virtuous she is, but what’s her fortune – which if but small, you cry “she will not do my business” and basely leave her though she languish for you. Say, is not this as poor?

WILLMORE

It is a barbarous custom, which I will scorn to defend in our sex, and do despise in yours.

ANGELLICA

Thou art a brave fellow! Put up thy gold, and know, 23

That were thy fortune large as is thy soul,

Thou shouldst not buy my love,

Couldst thou forget those mean effects of vanity

Which set me out to sale; and as a lover, prize

My yielding joys.

Canst thou believe they’ll be entirely thine,

Without considering they were mercenary?

WILLMORE

Ha, death, I’m going to believe her!

ANGELLICA

Prithee, confirm that faith – or if thou canst not – flatter me a little, ’twill please me from thy mouth.

WILLMORE

Curse on thy charming tongue! Dost thou return 26

My feigned contempt with so much subtlety?

Thou’st found the easiest way into my heart,

Though I yet know that all thou sayest is false.

(Turning from her in a rage)

ANGELLICA

By all that’s good ’tis real, 27

I never loved before, though oft a mistress.

Shall my first vows be slighted?

WILLMORE

What can she mean? 28

ANGELLICA

(In an angry tone) I find you cannot credit me. 29

WILLMORE

I know you take me for an errant ass, 30

An ass that may be soothed into belief,

And then be used at pleasure.

But, madam, I have been so often cheated

By perjured, soft, deluding hypocrites,

That I’ve no faith left for the cozening sex,

Especially for women of your trade.

ANGELLICA

The low esteem you have of me, perhaps 31

May bring my heart again,

For I have pride that yet surmounts my love.

(She turns with pride, he holds her)

WILLMORE

Throw off this pride, this enemy to bliss, 32

And show the power of love: ’tis with those arms

I can be only vanquished, made a slave.

ANGELLICA

Is all my mighty expectation vanished? 33

No, I will not hear thee talk, thou hast a charm

In every word, that draws my heart away.

And all the thousand trophies I designed

Thou hast undone. Why art thou soft?

Thy looks are bravely rough, and meant for war.

Could thou not storm on still?

I then perhaps had been as free as thou.

WILLMORE

Death! how she throws her fire about my soul! 34

Take heed, fair creature, how you raise my hopes,

Which once assumed pretend to all dominion.

There’s not a joy thou hast in store

I shall not then command:

For which I’ll pay thee back my soul, my life.

Come, let’s begin th’account this happy minute.

ANGELLICA

And will you pay me then the price I ask? 35

WILLMORE

Oh, why dost thou draw me from an awful worship, 36

By showing thou art no divinity?

Conceal the fiend, and show me all the angel;

Keep me but ignorant, and I’ll be devout,

And pay my vows forever at this shrine.

(Kneels, and kisses her hand)

ANGELLICA

The pay I mean is but thy love for mine. 37

Can you give that?

WILLMORE

Entirely! Come, let’s withdraw: where I’ll renew my vows, and breathe ’em with such ardor thou shall not doubt my zeal.

ANGELLICA

Thou hast a power too strong to be resisted.

(Exit Willmore and Angellica)

MORETTA

Now my curse go with you! Is all our project fallen to this? To love the only enemy to our trade? Nay, to love such a shameroon, a very beggar – nay, a pirate-beggar, whose business is to rifle and be gone – a no-purchase, no-pay tatterdemalion, an English piccaroon; a rogue that fights for daily drink and takes a pride in being loyally lousy? Oh, I could curse now, if I durst! This is the fate of most whores:

Trophies, which from believing fops we win,

Are spoils to those who cozen us again.

( Exit )

ACT THREE

SCENE 1

(A street)

(Enter Florinda, Valeria, Hellena, in antic different dresses from what they were in before, Callis attending)

FLORINDA

I wonder what should make my brother in so ill a humor: I hope he has not found out our ramble this morning.

HELLENA

No; if he had, we should have heard on’t at both ears, and have been mewed up this afternoon, which I would not for the world should have happened. Hey ho! I’m sad as a lover’s lute.

VALERIA

Well, methinks we have learnt this trade of gypsies as readily as if we had been bred upon the road to Loretto: and yet I did so fumble when I told the stranger his fortune, that I was afraid I should have told my own and yours by mistake. But methinks Hellena has been very serious ever since.

FLORINDA

I would give my garters she were in love, to be revenged upon her, for abusing me. How is’t, Hellena?

HELLENA

Ah, would I had never seen my mad monsieur! And yet for all your laughing I am not in love – and yet this small acquaintance, o my conscience, will never out of my head.

VALERIA

Ha, ha, ha! I laugh to think how thou art fitted with a lover, a fellow that, I warrant, loves every new face he sees.

HELLENA

Hum – He has not kept his word with me here – and may be taken up – that thought is not very pleasant to me – What the deuce should this be now that I feel?

VALERIA

What is’t like?

HELLENA

Nay, the lord knows. But if I should be hanged, I cannot choose but be angry and afraid when I think that mad fellow should be in love with anybody but me. What to think of myself I know not; would I could meet with some true damned gypsy, that I might know my fortune.

VALERIA

Know it! Why there’s nothing so easy: thou wilt love this wandering inconstant till thou findst thyself hanged about his neck, and then be as mad to get free again.

FLORINDA

Yes, Valeria, we shall see her bestride his baggage horse, and follow him to the campaign.

HELLENA

So, so, now you are provided for, there’s no care taken of poor me! But since you have set my heart a-wishing, I am resolved to know for what. I will not die of the pip, so I will not.

FLORINDA

Art thou mad to talk so? Who will like thee well enough to have thee, that hears what a mad wench thou art?

HELLENA

Like me! I don’t intend every he that likes me shall have me, but he that I like: I should have stayed in the nunnery still if I had liked my lady abbess as well as she liked me. No, I came thence, not (as my wise brother imagines) to take an eternal farewell of the world, but to love and to be beloved; and I will be beloved or I’ll get one of your men, so I will.

VALERIA

Am I put into the number of lovers?

HELLENA

You! my coz, I know thou art too good-natured to leave us in any design. Thou would venture a cast, though thou comest off a loser, especially with such a gamester. I observed your man, and your willing ears incline that way; and if you are not a lover, ’tis an art soon learnt – (Sighs) that I find.

FLORINDA

I wonder how you learnt to love so easily. I had a thousand charms to meet my eyes and ears, ere I could yield; and ’twas the knowledge of Belvile’s merit, not the surprising person, took my soul. Thou art too rash to give a heart at first sight.

HELLENA

Hang your considering lover! I ne’er thought beyond the fancy, that ’twas a very pretty, idle, silly kind of pleasure to pass ones time with, to write little, soft, nonsensical billets and with great difficulty and danger receive answers, in which I shall have my beauty praised, my wit admired (though little or none) and have the vanity and power to know I am desirable; then I have the more inclination that way, because I am to be a nun, and so shall not be suspected to have any such earthly thoughts about me. But when I walk thus, and sigh thus, they’ll think my mind’s upon my monastery, and cry, “how happy ’tis she’s so resolv’d!”. But not a word of man.

FLORINDA

What a mad creature’s this!

HELLENA

I’ll warrant, if my brother hears either of you sigh, he cries (gravely) “I fear you have the indiscretion to be in love, but take heed of the honour of our house and your own unspotted fame”. And so he conjures on till he has laid the soft-winged god in your hearts, or broke the bird’s nest. But see here comes your lover: but where’s my inconstant? let’s step aside, and we may learn something.

(Go aside)

(Enter Belvile, Frederick and Blunt)

BELVILE

What means this? the picture’s taken in.

BLUNT

It may be the wench is good natured, and will be kind gratis. Your friend’s a proper handsome fellow.

BELVILE

I rather think she has cut his throat and is fled: I am mad he should throw himself into dangers. Pox on’t, I shall want him tonight! Let’s knock and ask for him.

HELLENA

My heart goes a-pit a-pat, for fear ’tis my man they talk of.

(Knock, Moretta above)

MORETTA

What would you have?

BELVILE

Tell the stranger that entered here about two hours ago, that his friends stay here for him.

MORETTA

A curse upon him for Moretta, would he were at the devil! But he’s coming to you.

(Enter Willmore)

HELLENA

Aye, aye, ’tis he! Oh, how this vexes me.

BELVILE

And how, and how, dear lad, has fortune smiled? Are we to break her windows, or raise up altars to her? Hah!

WILLMORE

Does not my fortune sit triumphant on my brow? Dost not see the little wanton god there all gay and smiling? Have I not an air about my face and eyes that distinguish me from the crowd of common lovers? By heaven, Cupid’s quiver has not half so many darts as her eyes! Oh such a bona roba , to sleep in her arms is lying in fresco , all perfumed air about me.

HELLENA

Here’s fine encouragement for me to fool on.

WILLMORE

Hark ye, where didst thou purchase that rich canary we drank today? Tell me, that I may adore the spigot, and sacrifice to the butt: the juice was divine, into which I must dip my rosary and then bless all things that I would have bold or fortunate.

BELVILE

Well, Sir, let’s go take a bottle, and hear the story of your success.

FREDERICK

Would not French wine do better?

WILLMORE

Damn the hungry balderdash! Cheerful sack has a generous virtue in’t, inspiring a successful confidence, gives eloquence to the tongue and vigor to the soul, and has in a few hours completed all my hopes and wishes. There’s nothing left to raise a new desire in me. Come, let’s be gay and wanton; and, gentlemen, study, study what you want, for here are friends – that will supply, gentlemen – Hark! What a charming sound they make, ’tis he and she gold whilst here, shall beget new pleasures every moment.

BLUNT

But hark ye, sir, you are not married, are you?

WILLMORE

All the honey of matrimony, but none of the sting, friend.

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, thou’rt a fortunate rogue.

WILLMORE

I am so, sir, let these inform you. Ha, how sweetly they chime! Pox of poverty, it makes a man a slave, makes wit and honor sneak, my soul grew lean and rusty for want of credit.

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, this I like well, it looks like my lucky bargain! Oh how I long for the approach of my squire that is to conduct me to her house again. Why, here’s two provided for!

FREDERICK

By this light y’re happy men.

BLUNT

Fortune is pleased to smile on us, gentlemen, to smile on us.

(Enter Sancho and pulls Blunt by the sleeve; they go aside)

SANCHO

Sir, my lady expects you; she has removed all that might oppose your will and pleasure, and is impatient till you come.

BLUNT

Sir, I’ll attend you. Oh the happiest rogue! I’ll take no leave, lest they either dog me, or stay me.

(Exit with Sancho)

BELVILE

But then the little gypsy is forgot?

WILLMORE

A mischief on thee for putting her into my thoughts! I had quite forgot her else, and this night’s debauch had drunk her quite down.

HELLENA

Had it so, good captain?

(Claps him on the back)

WILLMORE

Ha! I hope she did not hear.

HELLENA

What, afraid of such a champion?

WILLMORE

Oh, you’re a fine lady of your word, are you not? To make a man languish a whole day –

HELLENA

In tedious search of me.

WILLMORE

Egad, child, thou’rt in the right, hadst thou seen what a melancholy dog I have been ever since I was a lover, how I have walked the streets like a Capuchin, with my hands in my sleeves – Faith, sweetheart, thou wouldst pity me.

HELLENA

Now, if I should be hanged, I can’t be angry with him, he dissembles so heartily.

WILLMORE

Poor soul! That’s kindly said, I see thou bearest a conscience. Come then, for a beginning show me thy dear face.

HELLENA

I’m afraid, my small acquaintance, you have been staying that swinging stomach you boasted of this morning: I remember then my little collation would have gone down with you without the sauce of a handsome face. Is your stomach so queasy now?

WILLMORE

Faith, long fasting, child, spoils a man’s appetite. Yet if you durst treat, I could so lay about me still.

HELLENA

And would you fall to, before a priest says grace?

WILLMORE

Oh fie, fie, what an old out-of-fashioned thing hast thou named! Thou couldst not dash me more out of countenance shouldst thou show me an ugly face.

(Whilst he is seemingly courting Hellena, enter Angellica, Moretta, Biskey, and Sebastian, all in masquerade; Angellica sees Willmore and starts)

ANGELLICA

Heavens, is’t he? And passionately fond to see another woman?

MORETTA

What could you expect less from such a swaggerer?

ANGELLICA

Expect! as much as I paid him: a heart entire, 61

Which I had pride enough to think when’er I gave

It would have raised the man above the vulgar,

Made him all soul, and that all soft and constant.

HELLENA

You see, captain, how willing I am to be friends with you, till time and ill-luck make us lovers, and ask you the question first rather than put your modesty to the blush by asking me; for alas, I know you captains are such strict men, severe observers of your vows to chastity, that ’twill be hard to prevail with your tender conscience to marry a young willing maid.

WILLMORE

Do not abuse me, for fear I should take thee at thy word and marry thee indeed, which I’m sure will be revenge sufficient.

HELLENA

O’ my conscience, that will be our destiny, because we are both of one humor: I am as inconstant as you, for I have considered, captain, that a handsome woman has a great deal to do whilst her face is good, for then is our harvest-time to gather friends; and should I in these days of my youth catch a fit of foolish constancy I were undone, ’tis loitering by daylight in our great journey. Therefore declare, I’ll allow but one year for love, one year for indifference, and one year for hate, and then – go hang yourself – for I profess myself the gay, the kind, and the inconstant; the devil’s in’t if this won’t please you.

WILLMORE

Oh most damnably! I have a heart with a hole quite through it too, no prison like mine to keep a mistress in.

ANGELLICA

Perjured man! How I believe thee now!

HELLENA

Well, I see our business as well as humors are alike, yours to cozen as many maids as will trust you, and I as many men as have faith. See if I have not as desperate a lying look, as you can have for the heart of you. (Pulls off her vizard; he starts) How do you like it, captain?

WILLMORE

Like it! By Heaven, I never saw so much beauty. Oh, the charms of those sprightly black eyes, that strangely fair face, full of smiles and dimples! Those soft round melting cherry lips! And small even white teeth! Not to be expressed, but silently adored! Oh, one look more, and strike me dumb, or I shall repeat nothing else till I am mad.

(He seems to court her to pull off her vizard: she refuses)

ANGELLICA

I can endure no more! Nor is it fit to interrupt him, for if I do my jealousy has so destroyed my reason – I shall undo him – Therefore I’ll retire. And you Sebastian, (To one of her bravos) follow that woman, and learn who ’tis, (To the other bravo) while you tell the fugitive, I would speak to him instantly.

(Exit)

(This while Florinda is talking to Belvile, who stands sullenly, Frederick courting Valeria)

VALERIA

Prithee, dear stranger, be not so sullen, for though you have lost your love you see my friend frankly offers you hers to play with in the meantime.

BELVILE

Faith, madam, I am sorry I can’t play at her game.

FREDERICK

Pray leave your intercession, and mind your own affair, they’ll better agree apart: he’s a model sigher in company, but alone no woman escapes him.

FLORINDA

Sure he does but rally – yet if it should be true – I’ll tempt him farther.

BELVILE

Madam, why am I chose out of all mankind to be the object of your bounty?

VALERIA

There’s another civil question asked.

FREDERICK

Pox of’s modesty, it spoils his own markets and hinders mine.

FLORINDA

Sir, from my window I have often seen you, and women of quality have so few opportunities for love that we ought to lose none.

FREDERICK

(Take the jewel, fool.)

BELVILE

You tempt me strangely, madam, every way.

FLORINDA

So, if I find him false, my whole repose is gone.

BELVILE

And but for a vow I’ve made to a very fine lady, this goodness had subdued me.

FREDERICK

Pox on’t, be kind, in pity to me be kind, for I am to thrive here but as you treat her friend.

HELLENA

Tell me what did you in yonder house, and I’ll unmask.

WILLMORE

Yonder house – oh – I went to – a – to – why, there’s a friend of mine lives there.

HELLENA

What a she , or a he friend?

WILLMORE

A man, upon my honor! A man – “a she friend”! No, no, madam, you have done my business, I thank you.

HELLENA

And was’t your man friend that had more darts in’s eyes than Cupid carries in a whole budget of arrows?

WILLMORE

So –

HELLENA

Ah, such a bona roba , to be in her arms is lying in fresco , all perfumed air about me – – was this your man friend too?

WILLMORE

So –

HELLENA

That gave you the he and the she gold that begets young pleasures?

WILLMORE

Well, well, madam, then you see there are ladies in the world that will not be cruel – there are, madam, there are –

HELLENA

And there be men too as fine, wild, inconstant fellows as yourself, there be, captain, there be, if you go to that now – therefore I’m resolved –

WILLMORE

Oh!

HELLENA

– to see your face no more –

WILLMORE

Oh!

HELLENA

– till tomorrow.

WILLMORE

Egad, you frighted me.

HELLENA

Nor then neither, unless you’ll swear never to see that lady more.

WILLMORE

See her! Why, never to think of womankind again!

HELLENA

Kneel, and swear.

(Kneels, she gives him her hand)

HELLENA

I do, never to think, to see, to love, nor lie with any but thyself.

HELLENA

Kiss the book.

WILLMORE

Oh, most religiously.

(Kisses her hand)

HELLENA

Now what a wicked creature am I, to damn a proper fellow.

CALLIS

(To Florinda) Madam, I’ll stay no longer, ’tis e’en dark.

FLORINDA

However, sir, I’ll leave this with you, that when I’m gone you may repent the opportunity you have lost by your modesty.

(Gives him the jewel, which is her picture, and exits; he gazes after her)

WILLMORE

To Hellena ’Twill be an age till tomorrow, and till then I will most impatiently expect you. Adieu, my dear pretty angel.

(Exit all the women)

BELVILE

Ha! Florinda’s picture! ’Twas she herself! What a dull dog was I? I would have given the world for one minute’s discourse with her.

FREDERICK

This comes of your modesty, ah pox on your vow, ’twas ten to one but we had lost the jewel by’t.

BELVILE

Willmore! The blessed’st opportunity lost! Florinda, friends, Florinda!

WILLMORE

Ah rogue! Such black eyes, such a face, such a mouth, such teeth – and so much wit!

BELVILE

All, all, and a thousand charms besides.

WILLMORE

Why, dost thou know her?

BELVILE

Know her! Ay, ay, and a pox take me with all my heart for being modest.

WILLMORE

But hark ye, friend of mine, are you my rival? And have I been only beating the bush all this while?

BELVILE

I understand thee not – I’m mad – see here –

(Shows the picture)

WILLMORE

Ha! Whose picture is this? ’Tis a fine wench.

FREDERICK

The colonel’s mistress, sir.

WILLMORE

Oh, oh, here! (Gives the picture back) I thought it had been another prize! Come, come, a bottle will set thee right again.

BELVILE

I am content to try, and by that time ’twill be late enough for our design.

WILLMORE

Agreed.

Love does all day the soul’s great empire keep,

But wine at night lulls the soft god asleep.

(Exeunt)

SCENE 2

(Lucetta’s house)

(Enter Blunt and Lucetta with a light)

LUCETTA

Now we are safe and free, no fears of the coming home of my old jealous husband, which made me a little thoughtful when you came in first; but now love is all the business of my soul.

BLUNT

I am transported – pox on’t, that I had but some fine things to say to her, such as lovers use – I was a fool not to learn of Fred a little by heart before I came – something I must say.

LUCETTA

I have nothing to pay for so great a favor, but such a love as cannot but be great since at first sight of that sweet face and shape it made me your absolute captive.

BLUNT

Kind heart, how prettily she talks! Egad, I’ll show her husband a Spanish trick: send him out of the world and marry her. She’s damnably in love with me, and will ne’er mind settlements, and so there’s that said.

LUCETTA

Well, Sir, I’ll go and undress me, and be with you instantly.

BLUNT

Make haste then, for ’dsheartlikins, dear soul, thou canst not guess at the pain of a longing lover when his joys are drawn within the compass of a few minutes.

LUCETTA

You speak my sense, and I’ll make haste to provide it.

(Exit)

BLUNT

’Tis a rare girl, and this one night’s enjoyment with her will be worth all the days I ever passed in Essex. Would she’d go with me into England, though to say truth there’s plenty of whores there already. But a pox on ’em, they are such mercenary prodigal whores that they want such a one as this, that’s free and generous, to give ’em good examples. Why, what a house she has! How rich and fine!

(Enter Sancho)

SANCHO

Sir, my lady has sent me to conduct you to her chamber.

BLUNT

Here’s one of her servants too: ’dsheartlikins, by his garb and gravity he might be a justice of peace in Essex, and is but a pimp here.

(Exeunt)

(The scene changes to a chamber with an alcove bed in it, a table, etc. Lucetta in bed; enter Sancho and Blunt, who takes the candle of Sancho at the door)

SANCHO

Sir, my commission reaches no farther.

BLUNT

Sir, I’ll excuse your complement. What, in bed, my sweet mistress?

LUCETTA

You see, I still outdo you in kindness.

BLUNT

And thou shall see what haste I’ll make to quit scores. Oh, the luckiest rogue!

(Undresses himself)

LUCETTA

Should you be false or cruel now!

BLUNT

False, ’sheartlikins, what dost thou take me for, a Jew? An insensible heathen? A pox of thy old jealous husband; and he were dead, egad, sweet soul, it should be none of my fault if I did not marry thee.

LUCETTA

It never should be mine.

BLUNT

Good soul, I’m the fortunatest dog!

LUCETTA

Are you not undressed yet?

BLUNT

As much as my impatience will permit.

(Goes towards the bed in his shirt and drawers)

LUCETTA

Hold, sir, put out the light, it may betray us else.

BLUNT

’Sheartlikins, there I think I had it.

(Enter Lucetta, Philippo, and Sancho with a light)

PHILIPPO

Ha, ha, ha, he’s dispatched finely.

LUCETTA

Now, sir, had I been coy, we had missed of this booty.

PHILIPPO

Nay, when I saw ’twas a substantial fool I was mollified; but when you dote upon a serenading coxcomb, upon a face, fine clothes, and a lute, it makes me rage.

LUCETTA

You know I never was guilty of that folly, my dear Philippo, but with yourself. But come, let’s see what we have got by this.

PHILIPPO

A rich coat! Sword and hat! These breeches too are well-lined! See here, a gold watch! A purse, ha! Gold, at least two hundred pistoles! A bunch of diamond rings, and one with the family arms! A gold box, with a medal of his king! And his lady mother’s picture! These were sacred reliques, believe me! See, the waistband of his breeches have a mine of gold! Old queen Bess’s: we have a quarrel to her ever since eighty-eight, and may therefore justify the theft, the Inquisition might have committed it.

LUCETTA

See, a bracelet of bowed gold, these his sister tied about his arm at parting. But well, for all this I fear his being a stranger may make a noise, and hinder our trade with them hereafter.

PHILIPPO

That’s our security: he is not only a stranger to us, but to the country too. The common sewer into which he is descended, thou knowst, conducts him into another street, which this light will hinder him from ever finding again. He knows neither your name, nor the street where your house is, nay, nor the way to his own lodgings.

LUCETTA

And art not thou an unmerciful rogue, not to afford him one night for all this? I should not have been such a Jew.

PHILIPPO

Blame me not, Lucetta, to keep as much of thee as I can to myself. Come, that thought makes me wanton, let’s to bed. Sancho, lock up these.

This is the fleece which fools do bear,

Designed for witty men to sheer.

(Exeunt)

(The scene changes, and discovers blunt creeping out of a common sewer, his face, etc. all dirty)

BLUNT

Oh lord! (Climbing up) I am got out at last, and (which is a miracle) without a clue! And now to damning and cursing; but if that would ease me, where shall I begin? With my fortune, myself, or the queen that cozened me – what a dog was I to believe in women! Oh coxcomb! Ignorant conceited coxcomb! To fancy she could be enamored with my person, at the first sight enamored – oh, I’m a cursed puppy, ’tis plain: fool was writ upon my forehead, she perceived it, saw the Essex calf there – for what allurements could there be in this countenance, which I can endure because I’m acquainted with it? Oh, dull silly dog! To be thus soothed into a cozening! Had I been drunk, I might fondly have credited the young queen! But as I was in my right wits, to be thus cheated confirms I am a dull believing English country fop. But my comrades! Death and the devil, there’s the worst of all! Then a ballad will be sung tomorrow on the Prado , to a lousy tune of the enchanted squire and the annihilated damsel. But Fred, that rogue, and the colonel will abuse me beyond all Christian patience. Had she left me my clothes I have a bill of exchange at home would have saved my credit. But now all hope is taken from me. Well, I’ll home (if I can find the way) with this consolation: that I am not the first kind believing coxcomb; but there are, gallants, many such good natures amongst ye.

And tho you’ve better arts to hide your follies,

Adsheartlikins y’are all as errant cullies.

( Exit )

SCENE 3

(The garden, in the night)

(Enter Florinda undressed, with a key and a little box)

FLORINDA

Well, thus far I’m in my way to happiness: I have got myself free from Callis; my brother too, I find by yonder light, is gone into his cabinet, and thinks not of me; I have by good fortune got the key of the garden backdoor, I’ll open it to prevent Belvile’s knocking, a little noise will now alarm my brother. Now am I as fearful as a young thief. (Unlocks the door) Hark, what noise is that? Oh,’twas the wind that played amongst the boughs. Belvile stays long, methinks it’s time – stay – for fear of a surprise, I’ll hide these jewels in yonder jasmine.

(She goes to lay down the box)

(Enter Willmore drunk)

WILLMORE

What the devil is become of these fellows, Belvile and Frederick? They promised to stay at the next corner for me, but who the devil knows the corner of a full moon? Now, whereabouts am I? Hah, what have we here? A garden! A very convenient place to sleep in! Hah, what has God sent us here? A female – by this light, a woman! I’m a dog if it be not a very wench.

FLORINDA

He’s come! Hah, who’s there?

WILLMORE

Sweet soul, let me salute thy shoestring.

FLORINDA

’Tis not my Belvile; good heavens, I know him not.

WILLMORE

Prithee, prithee, child, not so many hard questions; let it suffice I am here, child. Come, come kiss me.

FLORINDA

Good gods! What luck is mine?

WILLMORE

Only good luck, child, parlous good luck, come hither. ’Tis a delicate shining wench, by this hand she’s perfumed and smells like any nosegay. Prithee, dear soul, let’s not play the fool and lose time, precious time, for as God shall save me I’m as honest a fellow as breathes, though I am a little disguised at present. Come, I say, why, thou mayest be free with me, I’ll be very secret. I’ll not boast who ’twas obliged me, not I, for hang me if I know thy name.

FLORINDA

Heavens! What a filthy beast is this!

WILLMORE

I am so, and thou oughtst the sooner to lie with me for that reason, for look you, child, there will be no sin in’t, because ’twas neither designed nor premeditated; ’tis pure accident on both sides – that’s a certain thing now. Indeed, should I make love to you, and you vow fidelity and swear and lie till you believed and yielded, thou art therefore (as thou art a good Christian) obliged in conscience to deny me nothing. Now come, be kind, without any more idle prating.

FLORINDA

Oh, I am ruined! Wicked man, unhand me!

WILLMORE

Wicked! Egad, child, a judge, were he young and vigorous and saw those eyes of thine, would know ’twas they gave the first blow, the first provocation.Come, prithee let’s lose no time, I say, this is a fine convenient place.

FLORINDA

Sir, let me go, I conjure you, or I’ll call out!

WILLMORE

Ay, ay, you were best to call witness to see how finely you treat me, do.

FLORINDA

I’ll cry murder, rape, or anything, if you do not instantly let me go!

WILLMORE

A rape! Come, come, you lie, you baggage, you lie. What, I’ll warrant you would fain have the world believe now that you are not so forward as I. No, not you, why at this time of night was your cobweb-door set open, dear spider, but to catch flies? Hah, come, or I shall be damnably angry. Why, what a coil is here.

FLORINDA

Sir, can you think –

WILLMORE

That you’d do it for nothing? Oh, oh, I find what you’d be at. Look here, here’s a pistole for you; here’s a work indeed, here, take it, I say.

FLORINDA

For Heaven’s sake, sir, as you’re a gentleman –

WILLMORE

So, now, she would be wheedling me for more. What, you will not take it then? You’re resolved you will not. Come, come, take it, or I’ll put it up again; for, look ye, I never give more. Why, how now, mistress, are you so high i’th’ mouth a pistole won’t down with you? Hah, why, what a work’s here – in good time – come, no struggling, be gone – but an y’are good at a dumb wrestle, I’m for ye – look ye – I’m for ye

(She struggles with him)

(Enter Belvile and Frederick)

BELVILE

The door is open, a pox of this mad fellow, I’m angry that we’ve lost him, I durst have sworn he had followed us.

FREDERICK

But you were so hasty, colonel, to be gone.

FLORINDA

Help, help, murder! Help! Oh, I’m ruined!

BELVILE

Ha, sure that’s Florinda’s voice! (Comes up to them) A man! Villain, let go that lady!

(A noise)

(Willmore turns and draws, Frederick interposes)

FLORINDA

Belvile! Heavens! My brother too is coming, and ’twill be impossible to escape. Belvile, I conjure you to walk under my chamber window, from whence I’ll give you some instructions what to do; This rude man has undone us!

(Exit)

WILLMORE

Belvile!

(Enter Pedro, Stephano, and other servants with lights)

PEDRO

I’m betrayed! Run, Stephano, and see if Florinda be safe. Exit Stephano So whoe’er they be, all is not well, I’ll to Florinda’s chamber.

(They fight, and Pedro’s party beats ’em out; going out, meets Stephano)

STEPHANO

You need not, sir, the poor lady’s fast asleep, and thinks no harm. I would not wake her, sir, for fear of frightening her with your danger.

PEDRO

I’m glad she’s there. Rascals, how came the garden door open?

STEPHANO

That question comes too late, sir: some of my fellow servants masquerading, I’ll warrant.

PEDRO

Masquerading! a lewd custom to debauch our youth; there’s something more in this than I imagine.

(Exeunt)

SCENE 4

(Changes to the street)

(Enter Belvile in rage, Frederick holding him, and Willmore melancholy)

WILLMORE

Why, how the devil should I know Florinda?

BELVILE

Ah plague of your ignorance! If it had not been Florinda, must you be a beast? A brute, a senseless swine?

WILLMORE

Well, sir, you see I am endued with patience, I can bear, though egad y’re very free with me methinks, I was in good hopes the quarrel would have been on my side for so uncivilly interrupting me.

BELVILE

Peace, brute, whilst thou’rt safe – oh, I’m distracted.

WILLMORE

Nay, nay, I’m an unlucky dog, that’s certain.

BELVILE

Ah curse upon the star that ruled my birth! Or whatsoever other influence that makes me still so wretched.

WILLMORE

Thou break’st my heart with these complaints: there is no star in fault, no influence but sack, the cursed sack I drank.

FREDERICK

Why, how the devil came you so drunk?

WILLMORE

Why, how the devil came you so sober?

BELVILE

A curse upon his thin skull, he was always beforehand that way.

FREDERICK

Prithee, dear colonel, forgive him, he’s sorry for his fault.

BELVILE

He’s always so after he has done a mischief. A plague on all such brutes.

WILLMORE

By this light I took her for an errant harlot.

BELVILE

Damn your debauched opinion; tell me, sot, hadst thou so much sense and light about thee to distinguish her to be a woman, and couldst not see something about her face and person to strike an awful reverence into thy soul?

WILLMORE

Faith no, I considered her as mere a woman as I could wish.

BELVILE

’Sdeath I have no patience: draw, or I’ll kill you.

WILLMORE

Let that alone till tomorrow, and if I set not all right again use your pleasure.

BELVILE

Tomorrow, damn it. 18

The spiteful light will lead me to no happiness.

Tomorrow is Antonio’s, and perhaps

Guides him to my undoing; oh, that I could meet

This rival, this powerful fortunate.

WILLMORE

What then?

BELVILE

Let thy own reason, or my rage instruct thee.

WILLMORE

I shall be finely informed then, no doubt; hear me, colonel – hear me – show me the man and I’ll do his business.

BELVILE

I know him no more than thou, or if I did I should not need thy aid.

WILLMORE

This you say is Angellica’s House, I promised the kind baggage to lie with her to night.

(Offers to go in)

(Enter Antonio and his page Diego ; Antonio knocks on the hilt of his sword)

ANTONIO

You paid the thousand crowns I directed?

DIEGO

To the lady’s old woman, sir, I did.

WILLMORE

Who the devil have we here?

BELVILE

I’ll now plant myself under Florinda’s window, and if I find no comfort there, I’ll die.

(Exit Belvile and Frederick)

(Enter Moretta)

MORETTA

Page!

DIEGO

Here’s my lord.

WILLMORE

How is this, a picaroon going to board my frigate! Here’s one chase gun for you

(Drawing his sword, justles Antonio who turns and draws; they fight, Antonio falls)

MORETTA

Oh, bless us, we are all undone!

(Runs in, and shuts the door)

DIEGO

Help, murder!

(Belvile returns at the noise of fighting)

BELVILE

Ha, the mad rogue’s engaged in some unlucky adventure again.

(Enter two or three masqueraders)

MASQUERADER

Ha, a man killed!

WILLMORE

How, a man killed! Then I’ll go home to sleep.

(Puts up, and reels out; exit maskers another way)

BELVILE

Who should it be? Pray Heaven the rogue is safe, for all my quarrel to him.

(As Belvile is groping about, enter an officer and six soldiers)

SOLDIER

Who’s there?

OFFICER

So, here’s one dispatched! Secure the murderer.

BELVILE

Do not mistake my charity for murder: I came to his assistance.

(Soldiers seize on Belvile)

OFFICER

That shall be tried, sir. St. Jago, swords drawn in the carnival time!

(Goes to Antonio)

ANTONIO

Thy hand prithee.

OFFICER

Ha, Don Antonio! Look well to the villain there. How is’t, sir?

ANTONIO

I’m hurt.

BELVILE

Has my humanity made me a criminal?

OFFICER

Away with him.

BELVILE

What a cursed chance is this!

(Exit soldiers with Belvile)

ANTONIO

(To the officer) This is the man that has set upon me twice; carry him to my apartment till you have further orders from me.

(Exit Antonio led)

ACT FOUR

SCENE 1

(A fine room)

(Discovers Belvile, as by dark alone)

BELVILE

When shall I be weary of railing on fortune, who is resolved never to turn with smiles upon me? Two such defeats in one night, none but the devil and that mad rogue could have contrived to have plagued me with. I am here a prisoner, but where? Heaven knows! And if there be murder done, I can soon decide the fate of a stranger in a nation without mercy. Yet this is nothing to the torture my soul bows with when I think of losing my fair, my dear Florinda. Hark, my door opens! A light – a man – and seems of quality – armed too. Now shall I die like a dog without defense.

(Enter Antonio in a night gown with a light, his arm in a scarf and a sword under his arm; he sets the candle on the table)

ANTONIO

Sir, I come to know what injuries I have done you that could provoke you to so mean an action as to attack me basely, without allowing time for my defense.

BELVILE

Sir, for a man in my circumstances to plead innocence, would look like fear; but view me well, and you will find no marks of a coward on me, nor any thing that betrays that brutality you accuse me of.

ANTONIO

In vain, sir, you impose upon my sense, 4

You are not only he who drew on me last night,

But yesterday before the same house, that of Angellica.

Yet there is something in your face and mien –

BELVILE

I own I fought today in the defense of a friend of mine, with whom you (if you’re the same) and your party were first engaged.

Perhaps you think this crime enough to kill me,

But if you do, I cannot fear you’ll do it basely.

ANTONIO

No, Sir, I’ll make you fit for a defense with this.

(Gives him the sword)

BELVILE

This gallantry surprises me, nor know I how to use this present, sir, against a man so brave.

ANTONIO

You shall not need, 8

For know I come to snatch you from a danger

That is decreed against you:

Perhaps your life, or long imprisonment,

And ’twas with so much courage you offended,

I cannot see you punished.

BELVILE

How shall I pay this generosity? 9

ANTONIO

It had been safer to have killed another, 10

Than have attempted me:

To show your danger, sir, I’ll let you know my quality:

And ’tis the viceroy’s son whom you have wounded.

BELVILE

The viceroy’s son! 11

Death and confusion! Was this plague reserved

To complete all the rest? Obliged by him!

The man of all the world I would destroy.

ANTONIO

You seem disordered, sir. 12

BELVILE

Yes, trust me, sir, I am, and ’tis with pain 13

That man receives such bounties,

Who wants the power to pay ’em back again.

ANTONIO

To gallant spirits ’tis indeed uneasy; 14

But you may quickly overpay me, sir.

BELVILE

Then I am well, kind Heaven! But set us even, 15

That I may fight with him and keep my honor safe.

Oh, I’m impatient, sir, to be discounting

The mighty debt I owe you: command me quickly –

ANTONIO

I have a quarrel with a rival, sir, 16

About the maid we love.

BELVILE

Death, ’tis Florinda he means! 17

That thought destroys my reason, and I shall kill him.

ANTONIO

My rival, sir, 18

Is one has all the virtues man can boast of.

BELVILE

Death! Who should this be? 19

ANTONIO

He challenged me to meet him on the Molo, 20

As soon as day appeared; but last night’s quarrel

Has made my arm unfit to guide a sword.

BELVILE

I apprehend you, Sir, you’d have me kill the man 21

That lays a claim to the maid you speak of.

I’ll do’t, I’ll fly to do it.

ANTONIO

Sir, do you know her? 22

BELVILE

No, sir, but ’tis enough she is admired by you. 23

ANTONIO

Sir, I shall rob you of the glory on’t, 24

For you must fight under my name and dress.

BELVILE

That opinion must be strangely obliging that makes 25

You think I can personate the brave Antonio,

Whom I can but strive to imitate.

ANTONIO

You say too much to my advantage. 26

Come, sir, the day appears that calls you forth.

Within, sir, is the habit.

(Exit Antonio)

BELVILE

Fantastic fortune, thou deceitful light, 27

That cheats the wearied traveler by night,

Though on a precipice each step you tread,

I am resolved to follow where you lead.

(Exit)

SCENE 2

(The Molo)

(Enter Florinda and Callis in masks, with Stephano)

FLORINDA

I’m dying with my fears; Belvile’s not coming, 1

As I expected, underneath my window,

Makes me believe that all those fears are true.

Canst thou not tell with whom my brother fights?

STEPHANO

No, Madam, they were both in masquerade; I was by when they challenged one another and they had decided the quarrel then, but were prevented by some cavaliers, which made ’em put it off till now; but I am sure ’tis about you they fight.

FLORINDA

Nay then ’tis with Belvile, for what other lover have I that dares fight for me, except Antonio? And he is too much in favor with my brother. If it be he, for whom shall I direct my prayers to Heaven?

STEPHANO

Madam, I must leave you, for if my master see me I shall be hanged for being your conductor. I escaped narrowly for the excuse I made for you last night i’th’ garden.

FLORINDA

And I’ll reward thee for’t, prithee no more.

(Exit Stephano)

(Enter Don Pedro in his masking habit)

PEDRO

Antonio’s late today, the place will fill, and we may be prevented.

(Walk about)

FLORINDA

Antonio! Sure I heard amiss.

PEDRO

But who would not excuse a happy lover, 8

When soft fair arms confine the yielding neck,

And the kind whisper languishingly breathes,

Must you be gone so soon?

Sure I had dwelt for ever on her bosom.

But stay, he’s here.

(Enter Belvile dressed in Antonio’s clothes)

FLORINDA

’Tis not Belvile, half my fears are vanished!

PEDRO

Antonio!

BELVILE

This must be he.

PEDRO

The wretched, sir, are watchful, and ’tis enough 12

You have the advantage of me in Angellica.

BELVILE

Angellica! 13

Or I’ve mistook my man, Or else Antonio,

Can he forget his interest in Florinda

And fight for common prize?

PEDRO

Come, sir, you know our terms. 14

BELVILE

By Heaven, not I. 15

(Offers to fight; Florinda runs in)

FLORINDA

(To Belvile) Oh, hold! Whoe’er you be, I do conjure you hold! 16

If you strike here, I die.

PEDRO

Florinda! 17

BELVILE

Florinda imploring for my rival! 18

PEDRO

Away, this kindness is unseasonable. 19

(Puts her by, they fight; she runs in just as Belvile disarms Pedro)

FLORINDA

Who are you, sir, that dare deny my prayers? 20

BELVILE

Thy prayers destroy him, if thou wouldst preserve him. 21

Do that thou’rt unacquainted with, and curse him.

(She holds him)

FLORINDA

By all you hold most dear, by her you love, 22

I do conjure you, touch him not.

BELVILE

By her I love! 23

See, I obey, and at your feet resign

The useless trophy of my victory.

(Lays his sword at her feet)

PEDRO

Antonio, you’ve done enough to prove you love Florinda. 24

BELVILE

Love Florinda! 25

Does Heaven love adoration, prayer, or penitence?

Love her! Here, sir, your sword again.

((Snatches up the sword, and gives it him))

Upon this truth I’ll fight my life away.

PEDRO

No, you’ve redeemed my sister, and my friendship.

BELVILE

Don Pedro!

(He gives him Florinda and pulls off his vizard to show his face, and puts it on again)

PEDRO

Can you resign your claims to other women, 28

And give your heart entirely to Florinda?

BELVILE

Entire, as dying saints confessions are. 29

I can delay my happiness no longer:

This minute let me make Florinda mine.

PEDRO

This minute let it be, no time so proper, 30

This night my father will arrive from Rome,

And possibly may hinder what we propose.

FLORINDA

Oh heavens! This minute!

(Enter masqueraders, and pass over)

BELVILE

Oh, do not ruin me!

PEDRO

The place begins to fill; and that we may not be observed, do you walk off to St. Peter’s church where I will meet you and conclude your happiness?

BELVILE

if there be no more saints’ churches in Naples.

FLORINDA

Oh stay, sir, and recall your hasty doom: 35

Alas, I have not yet prepared my heart

To entertain so strange a guest.

PEDRO

Away, this silly modesty is assumed too late. 36

BELVILE

Heaven, madam! What do you do? 37

FLORINDA

Do? Despise the man that lays a tyrant’s claim 38

To what he ought to conquer by submission!

BELVILE

You do not know me; move a little this way. 39

(Draws her aside)

FLORINDA

Yes, you may even force me to the altar, 40

But not the holy man that offers there

Shall force me to be thine.

(Pedro talks to Callis this while)

BELVILE

Oh, do not lose so blessed an opportunity! 41

See, ’tis your Belvile, not Antonio,

Whom your mistaken scorn and anger ruins.

(Pulls off his vizard)

FLORINDA

Belvile! 42

Where was my soul it could not meet thy voice,

And take this knowledge in?

(As they are talking, enter Willmore finely dressed, and Frederick)

WILLMORE

No intelligence! No news of Belvile yet! Well, I am the most unlucky rascal in nature. Ha, am I deceived, or is it he? Look, Fred, ’tis he! My dear Belvile!

(Runs and embraces him; Belvile’s vizard falls out on’s hand)

BELVILE

Hell and confusion seize thee!

PEDRO

Ha! Belvile! I beg your pardon, sir.

(Takes Florinda from him)

BELVILE

Nay, touch her not, she’s mine by conquest, sir. I won her by my sword.

WILLMORE

Did’st thou so? And egad, child, we’ll keep her by the sword.

(Draws on Pedro; Belvile goes between)

BELVILE

Stand off. 48

Thou’rt so profanely lewd, so curst by Heaven,

All quarrels thou espousest must be fatal.

WILLMORE

Nay, and you be so hot, my valor’s coy, 49

And shall be courted when you want it next.

(Puts up his sword)

BELVILE

(To Pedro) You know I ought to claim a victor’s right, 50

But you’re the brother to divine Florinda,

To whom I’m such a slave; to purchase her,

I durst not hurt the man she holds so dear.

PEDRO

’Twas by Antonio’s, not by Belvile’s Sword, 51

This question should have been decided, sir:

I must confess much to your bravery’s due,

Both now, and when I met you last in arms.

But I am nicely punctual in my word,

As men of honor ought, and beg your pardon,

For this mistake another time shall clear.

(Aside to Florinda as they are going out)

This was some plot between you and Belvile,

But I’ll prevent you.

(Belvile looks after her, and begins to walk up and down in a rage)

WILLMORE

Do not be modest now, and lose the woman; but if we shall fetch her back, so –

BELVILE

Do not speak to me.

WILLMORE

Not speak to you! Egad, I’ll speak to you, and will be answered too.

BELVILE

Will you, sir?

WILLMORE

I know I’ve done some mischief, but I’m so dull a puppy that I am the son of a whore, if I know how, or where. Prithee inform my understanding.

BELVILE

Leave me, I say, and leave me instantly.

WILLMORE

I will not leave you in this humor, nor till I know my crime.

BELVILE

Death, I’ll tell you, sir –

(Draws and runs at Willmore; he runs out, Belvile after him; Frederick interposes)

(Enter Angelica, Moretta, and Sebastian)

ANGELLICA

Ha! Sebastian, is not that Willmore? Haste, haste, and bring him back.

FREDERICK

The colonel’s mad, I never saw him thus before; I’ll after ’em, lest he do some mischief, for I am sure Willmore will not draw on him.

(Exit)

ANGELLICA

I am all rage! my first desires defeated 62

For one, for ought he knows, that has no

Other merit than her quality,

Her being Don Pedro’s sister, he loves her.

I know ’tis so – dull, dull, insensible –

He will not see me now though oft invited,

And broke his word last night – false perjured man!

He that but yesterday fought for my favors,

And would have made his life a sacrifice

To’ve gained one night with me,

Must now be hired and courted to my arms.

MORETTA

I told you what would come on’t, but Moretta’s an old doating fool. Why did you give him five hundred crowns, but to set himself out for other lovers? You should have kept him poor, if you had meant to have had any good from him.

ANGELLICA

Oh, name not such mean trifles. Had I given him all 64

My youth has earned from sin,

I had not lost a thought nor sigh upon’t.

But I have given him my eternal rest,

My whole repose, my future joys, my heart,

My virgin heart. Moretta! Oh, ’tis gone!

MORETTA

Curse on him, here he comes; 65

How fine she has made him too!

(Enter Willmore and Sebastian; Angellica turns and walks away])

WILLMORE

How now, turned shadow? 66

Fly when I pursue, and follow when I fly!

((Sings))

Stay, gentle shadow of my dove,

And tell me e’er I go,

Whether the substance may not prove

A fleeting thing like you.

There’s a soft kind look remaining yet.

(As she turns, she looks on him)

ANGELLICA

Well, sir, you may be gay, all happiness, all joys pursue you still, fortune’s your slave, and gives you every hour choice of new hearts and beauties till you are cloyed with the repeated bliss which others vainly languish for. But know, false man, that I shall be reveng’d.

(Turns away in a rage)

WILLMORE

So, ’gad, there are of those faint-hearted lovers, whom such a sharp lesson next their hearts would make as impotent as fourscore. Pox o’ this whining, my business is to laugh and love, a pox on’t. I hate your sullen lover, a man shall lose as much time to put you in humor now as would serve to gain a new woman.

ANGELLICA

I scorn to cool that fire I cannot raise, 69

Or do the drudgery of your virtuous mistress.

WILLMORE

A virtuous mistress! Death, what a thing thou hast found out for me! Why what the devil should I do with a virtuous woman? A fort of ill-natured creatures, that take a pride to torment a lover. Virtue is but an infirmity in women, a disease that renders even the handsome ungrateful; whilst the ill-favored, for want of solicitations and address, only fancy themselves so. I have lain with a woman of quality who has all the while been railing at qhores.

ANGELLICA

I will not answer for your mistress’s virtue, 71

Though she be young enough to know no guilt:

And I could wish you would persuade my heart

’Twas the two hundred thousand crowns you courted.

WILLMORE

Two hundred thousand crowns! What story’s this? What trick? What woman? Ha.

ANGELLICA

How strange you make it! Have you forgot the creature you entertained on the piazza last night?

WILLMORE

Ha, my gypsy worth two hundred thousand crowns! Oh how I long to be with her! Pox, I knew she was of quality.

ANGELLICA

False man, I see my ruin in thy face. 75

How many vows you breathed upon my bosom,

Never to be unjust; have you forgot so soon?

WILLMORE

But here’s a humor indeed would make a man a saint. Would she’d be angry enough to leave me, and command me not to wait on her.

(Enter Hellena dressed in man’s clothes)

HELLENA

This must be Angellica, I know it by her mumping matron here; aye, aye, ’tis she. My mad captain’s with her too, for all his swearing! How this unconstant humor makes me love him!

MORETTA

I hope ’tis one from Don Antonio.

(Goes to Angellica)

HELLENA

Well, something I’ll do to vex him for this.

ANGELLICA

I will not speak with him. Am I in humor to receive a lover?

WILLMORE

Not speak with him! Why I’ll be gone, and wait your idler minutes. Can I show less obedience to the thing I love so fondly?

(Offers to go)

ANGELLICA

A fine excuse, this. Stay.

WILLMORE

And hinder your advantage: should I repay your bounties so ungratefully?

ANGELLICA

Come hither, boy, that I may let you see 84

How much above the advantages you name

I prize one minute’s joy with you.

WILLMORE

Death, how shall I get away?

ANGELLICA

I see you’re impatient; yet you shall stay.

WILLMORE

And miss my assignation with my gypsy!

(Moretta brings Hellena, who addresses herself to Angellica)

HELLENA

Madam, 88

You’ll hardly pardon my intrusion

When you shall know my business,

And I’m too young to tell my tale with art,

But there must be a wondrous store of goodness

Where so much beauty dwells.

ANGELLICA

A pretty advocate, whoever sent thee. 89

Prithee proceed;

((To Willmore who is stealing off))

nay, sir, you shall not go.

WILLMORE

Then shall I lose my dear gypsy forever. 90

Pox on’t, she stays me out of spite.

HELLENA

I am related to a lady, madam, 91

Young, rich, and nobly born, but has the fate

To be in love with a young English gentleman.

Strangely she loves him, at first sight she loved him,

But did adore him when she heard him speak;

For he, she said, had charms in every word,

That failed not to surprise, to wound, and conquer –

WILLMORE

Ha, egad I hope this concerns me.

ANGELLICA

’Tis my false man, he means, would he were gone. 93

This praise will raise his pride and ruin me.

To Willmore Well,

Since you are so impatient to be gone,

I will release you, sir.

WILLMORE

Nay, then I’m sure ’twas me he spoke of, this cannot be the effects of kindness in her.

No, madam, I’ve considered better on’t,

And will not give you cause of jealousy.

ANGELLICA

But, sir, I’ve – business, that –

WILLMORE

This shall not do, I know ’tis but to try me.

ANGELLICA

though ’twill undo me.

HELLENA

With this addition to his other beauties, 98

He won her unresisting tender heart,

He vowed and sighed, and swore he loved her dearly;

And she believed the cunning flatterer,

And thought herself the happiest maid alive.

Today was the appointed time by both,

To consummate their bliss;

The virgin, altar, and the priest were dressed,

And whilst she languished for the expected bridegroom,

She heard, he paid his broken vows to you.

WILLMORE

So, this is some dear rogue that’s in love with me, and this way lets me know it. Or if it be not me, she means someone whose place I may supply.

ANGELLICA

Now I perceive 100

The cause of thy impatience to be gone,

And all the business of this glorious dress.

WILLMORE

Damn the young prater, I know not what he means.

HELLENA

Madam, 102

In your fair eyes I read too much concern

To tell my farther business.

ANGELLICA

Prithee, sweet youth, talk on, thou mayest perhaps 103

Raise here a storm that may undo my passion,

And then I’ll grant thee anything.

HELLENA

Madam,’tis to intreat you, (oh unreasonable!) 104

You would not see this stranger;

For if you do, she vows you are undone,

Though nature never made a man so excellent,

And sure he’ad been a god but for inconstancy.

WILLMORE

Ah, rogue, how finely he’s instructed! ’Tis plain some woman that has seen me en passant .

ANGELLICA

Oh, I shall burst with jealousy! Do you know the man you speak of?

HELLENA

Yes, madam, he used to be in buff and scarlet.

ANGELLICA

(To Willmore) Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this?

WILLMORE

By Heaven –

ANGELLICA

Hold, do not damn thyself –

HELLENA

Nor hope to be believed.

(He walks about, they follow)

ANGELLICA

Oh, perjured man! 112

Is’t thus you pay my generous passion back?

HELLENA

Why would you, sir, abuse my lady’s faith? 113

ANGELLICA

And use me so inhumanly? 114

HELLENA

A maid so young, so innocent – 115

WILLMORE

Ah, young devil! 116

ANGELLICA

Dost thou not know thy life is in my power? 117

HELLENA

Or think my lady cannot be revenged? 118

WILLMORE

So, so, the storm comes finely on. 119

ANGELLICA

Now thou art silent, guilt has struck thee dumb.

Oh, hadst thou still been so, I’d lived in safety.

(She turns away and weeps)

WILLMORE

Sweetheart, the lady’s name and house, quickly: I’m impatient to be with her.

(Looks towards Angellica to watch her turning; and as she comes towards them, he meets her)

HELLENA

So now is he for another woman.

WILLMORE

The impudent’st young thing in nature! 123

I cannot persuade him out of his error, madam.

ANGELLICA

I know he’s in the right, yet thou’st a tongue 124

That would persuade him to deny his faith.

(In rage walks away)

WILLMORE

Said softly to Hellena Her name, her name, dear boy.

HELLENA

Have you forgot it, sir?

WILLMORE

Oh, I perceive he’s not to know I am a stranger to his lady.

Yes, yes, I do know – but – I have forgot the –

((Angellica turns))

By Heaven, such early confidence I never saw.

ANGELLICA

Did I not charge you with this mistress, sir? 128

Which you denied, though I beheld your perjury.

This little generosity of thine has rendered back my heart.

(Walks away)

WILLMORE

So, you have made sweet work here, my little mischief; 129

Look your lady be kind and good-natured now, or

I shall have but a cursed bargain on’t.

(Angellica turns towards them)

The rogue’s bred up to bischief,

Art thou so great a fool to credit him?

ANGELLICA

Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me. 130

Come hither, boy: is not this he you speak of?

HELLENA

I think – it is. I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying lover’s look.

(Hellena looks in his face, he gazes on her)

WILLMORE

Hah! Do not I know that face? 132

By Heaven, my little gypsy! What a dull dog was I!

Had I but looked that way, I’d known her.

Are all my hopes of a new woman banished?

Egad, if I don’t fit thee for this, hang me.

Madam, I have found out the plot.

HELLENA

Oh Lord, what does he say? Am I discovered now?

WILLMORE

Do you see this young spark here?

HELLENA

He’ll tell her who I am.

WILLMORE

Who do you think this is?

HELLENA

Ay, ay, he does know me.

WILLMORE

Nay, nay, no cogging; she shall know what a precious mistress I have.

HELLENA

Will you be such a devil?

WILLMORE

Nay, nay, I’ll teach you to spoil sport you will not make. This small ambassador comes not from a person of quality, as you imagine and he says, but from a very errant gypsy, the talkingest, pratingest, cantingest little animal thou ever saw’st.

ANGELLICA

What news you tell me! That’s the thing I mean.

HELLENA

Would I were well off the place, if ever I go a Captain-hunting again.

WILLMORE

Mean that thing? That gypsy thing? Thou mayest as well be jealous of thy monkey, or parrot as her; a German motion were worth a dozen of her, and a dream were a better enjoyment, a creature of constitution fitter for Heaven than man.

HELLENA

Though I’m sure he lies, yet this vexes me.

ANGELLICA

You are mistaken, she’s a Spanish woman 145

Made up of no such dull materials.

WILLMORE

Materials! Egad, and she be made of any that will either dispense, or admit of love, I’ll be bound to continence.

HELLENA

Unreasonable man, do you think so?

WILLMORE

You may return, my little brazen head, and tell your lady that till she be handsome enough to be beloved, or I dull enough to be religious, there will be small hopes of me.

ANGELLICA

Did you not promise then to marry her?

WILLMORE

Not I, by Heaven!

ANGELLICA

You cannot undeceive my fears and torments, till you have vowed you will not marry her.

HELLENA

If he swears that, he’ll be revenged on me indeed for all my rogueries.

ANGELLICA

I know what arguments you’ll bring against me: fortune and honor.

WILLMORE

Honor! I tell you, I hate it in your sex, and those that fancy themselves possessed of that foppery are the most impertinently troublesome of all womankind, and will transgress nine commandments to keep one. And to satisfy your jealousy I swear –

HELLENA

Oh, no swearing, dear captain –

WILLMORE

– if it were possible I should ever be inclined to marry, it should be some kind young sinner, one that has generosity enough to give a favor handsomely to one that can ask it discreetly, one that has wit enough to manage an intrigue of love – oh, how civil such a wench is, to a man than does her the honor to marry her!

ANGELLICA

By Heaven, there’s no faith in anything he says.

(Enter Sebastian)

SEBASTIAN

Madam, Don Antonio –

ANGELLICA

Come hither.

HELLENA

Ha, Antonio! He may be coming hither, and he’ll certainly discover me, I’ll therefore retire without a ceremony.

(Exit Hellena)

ANGELLICA

I’ll see him, get my coach ready.

SEBASTIAN

It waits you, madam.

WILLMORE

(This is lucky.)

ANGELLICA

Dull man, that canst not see how ill, how poor 164

That false dissimulation looks. Be gone,

And never let me see thy cozening face again,

Lest I relapse and kill thee.

WILLMORE

Now for my gypsy

For though to worse we change, yet still we find

New joys, new charms, in a new miss that’s kind.

(Exit Willmore)

ANGELLICA

He’s gone, and in this ague of my soul 166

The shivering fit returns;

Oh, with what willing haste he took his leave,

As if the longed for minute were arrived,

Of some blessed assignation.

In vain I have consulted all my charms,

In vain this beauty prized, in vain believed

My eyes could kindle any lasting fires.

I had forgot my name, my infamy,

And the reproach that honor lays on those

That dare pretend a sober passion here.

Nice reputation, though it leave behind

More virtues than inhabit where that dwells,

Yet that once gone, those virtues shine no more.

Then since I am not fit to beloved,

I am resolved to think on a revenge

On him that soothed me thus to my undoing.

(Exeunt)

SCENE 3

(A street)

(Enter Florinda and Valeria in habits different from what they have been seen in)

FLORINDA

We’re happily escaped, yet I tremble still.

VALERIA

A lover and fear! Why, I am but half a one, and yet I have courage for any attempt. Would Hellena were here! I would fain have had her as deep in this mischief as we, she’ll fare but ill else I doubt.

FLORINDA

She pretended a visit to the Augustine nuns, but I believe some other design carried her out, pray heavens we light on her. Prithee what didst do with Callis?

VALERIA

When I saw no reason would do good on her, I followed her into the wardrobe, and as she was looking for something in a great chest I tumbled her in by the heels, snatched the key of the apartment where you were confined, locked her in, and left her bawling for help.

FLORINDA

’Tis well you resolve to follow my fortunes, for thou darest never appear at home again after such an action.

VALERIA

That’s according as the young stranger and I shall agree. But to our business: I delivered your letter, your note to Belvile, when I got out under pretense of going to mass, I found him at his lodging and believe me it came seasonably, for never was man in so desperate a condition. I told him of your resolution of making your escape today, if your brother would be absent long enough to permit you; if not, die rather than be Antonio’s.

FLORINDA

Thou shouldst have told him I was confined to my chamber upon my brother’s suspicion, that the business on the Molo was a plot laid between him and I.

VALERIA

I said all this, and told him your brother was now gone to his devotion, and he resolves to visit every church till he find him; and not only undeceive him in that, but caress him so as shall delay his return home.

FLORINDA

Oh heavens! he’s here, and Belvile with him too.

(They put on their vizards)

(Enter Don Pedro, Belvile, Willmore; Belvile and Don Pedro seeming in serious discourse)

VALERIA

Walk boldly by them, I’ll come at a distance, lest he suspect us.

(She walks by them, and looks back on them)

WILLMORE

Ha! A woman! And of an excellent mien!

PEDRO

She throws a kind look back on you.

WILLMORE

Death, tis a likely wench, and that kind look shall not be cast away. I’ll follow her.

BELVILE

Prithee do not.

WILLMORE

Do not! By Heavens to the Antipodes, with such an invitation.

(She goes out, and Willmore follows her)

BELVILE

’Tis a mad fellow for a wench.

(Enter Frederick)

FREDERICK

Oh colonel, such news!

BELVILE

Prithee, what?

FREDERICK

News that will make you laugh in spite of fortune.

BELVILE

What, Blunt has had some damned trick put upon him, cheated, banged, or clapped?

FREDERICK

Cheated, sir, rarely cheated of all but his shirt and drawers. The unconscionable whore too turned him out before consummation, so that traversing the streets at midnight the watch found him in this fresco and conducted him home. By Heaven ’tis such a slight, and yet I durst as well have been hanged as laugh at him, or pity him! He beats all that do but ask him a question, and is in such an humor –

PEDRO

Who is’t has met with this ill usage, sir?

BELVILE

I’ll employ him to give Florinda time for an escape.

PEDRO

Who is he?

BELVILE

A young countryman of ours, one that has been educated at so plentiful a rate he yet ne’er knew the want of money, and ’twill be a great jest to see how simply he’ll look without it. For my part I’ll lend him none, and the rogue knows not how to put on a borrowing face and ask first. I’ll let him see how good ’tis to play our parts whilst I play his; prithee, Fred, do go home and keep him in that posture till we come.

(Exeunt)

(Enter Florinda from the farther end of the scene, looking behind her)

FLORINDA

I am followed still; hah, my brother too advancing this way, good Heavens defend me from being seen by him!

(She goes off)

(Enter Willmore, and after him Valeria, at a little distance])

WILLMORE

Ah! There she sails, she looks back as she were willing to be boarded, I’ll warrant her prize.

(He goes out, Valeria following)

(Enter Hellena, just as he goes out, with a page)

HELLENA

Hah, is not that my Captain that has a woman in chase? ’Tis not Angellica. Boy, follow those people at a distance, and bring me an account where they go in. I’ll find his haunts, and plague him everywhere. Ha, my brother!

(Exit page)

(Belvile, Willmore, Pedro cross the stage; Hellena runs off)

(Scene changes to another street; enter Florinda)

FLORINDA

What shall I do? My brother now pursues me! 29

Will no kind power protect me from his tyranny?

Hah, here’s a door open, I’ll venture in, since nothing can be worse than to fall into his hands! My life and honor are at stake, and my necessity has no choice.

(She goes in)

(Enter Valeria, and Hellena’s page peeping after Florinda)

PAGE

Here she went in, I shall remember this House.

(Exit page)

VALERIA

This is Belvile’s lodgings! She’s gone in as readily as if she knew it! Hah, here’s that mad fellow again, I dare not venture in, I’ll watch my opportunity.

(Goes aside)

(Enter Willmore, gazing about him)

WILLMORE

I have lost her hereabouts. Pox on’t, she must not escape me so!

(Goes out)

(Scene changes to Blunt’s chamber, discovers him sitting on a couch in his shirt and drawers, reading)

BLUNT

So, now my mind’s a little at peace, since I have resolved revenge. A pox on this tailor though, for not bringing home the clothes I bespoke! And a pox of all poor cavaliers, a man can never keep a spare suit for ’em! And I shall have these rogues come in and find me naked, and then I’m undone! But I’m resolved to arm myself, the rascals shall not insult over me too much. (Puts on an old rusty sword and buff belt) Now, how like a morris dancer I am equipped. A fine lady-like whore to cheat me thus, without affording me a kindness for my money; a pox light on her, I shall never be reconciled to the sex more: she has made me as faithless as a physician, as uncharitable as a churchman, and as ill-natured as a poet. O how I’ll use all womankind hereafter! What would I give to have one of ’em within my reach now! Any mortal thing in petticoats, kind fortune, send me, and I’ll forgive thy last night’s malice! Here’s a cursed book too, “A Warning to all Young Travelers”, that can instruct me how to prevent such mischiefs now ’tis too late. Well, ’tis a rare convenient thing to read a little now and then, as well as hawk and hunt.

(Sits down again and reads)

(Enter to him Florinda)

FLORINDA

This house is haunted sure, ’tis well furnished and no living thing inhabits it – Hah, a man! Heavens, how he’s attired! Sure ’tis some rope dancer, or fencing master; I tremble now for fear, and yet I must venture now to speak to him.

(He starts up and gazes)

BLUNT

Hah, what’s here? Are my wishes granted? And is not that a she creature? Adsheartlikins, ’tis! What wretched thing art thou, hah!

FLORINDA

Charitable sir, you’ve told yourself already what I am: a very wretched maid, forced by a strange unlucky accident to seek a safety here, and must be ruined if you do not grant it.

BLUNT

Ruined! Is there any ruin so inevitable as that which now threatens thee? Dost thou know, miserable woman, into what den of mischiefs thou art fallen? What a bliss of confusion? Hah, dost not see something in my looks that frights thy guilty soul, and makes thee wish to change that shape of woman for any humble animal, or devil? For those were safer for thee, and less mischievous.

FLORINDA

Alas, what mean you, sir? I must confess your looks have something in ’em makes me fear; but I beseech you, as you seem a gentleman, pity a harmless virgin that takes your house for sanctuary.

BLUNT

Talk on, talk on, and weep too, till my faith return. Do, flatter me out of my senses again; a harmless virgin with a pox, as much one as t’other, adsheartlikins! Why, what the devil can I not be safe in my house for you? Not in my chamber? Nay, even being naked too cannot secure me. This is an impudence greater than has invaded me yet. Come, no resistance!

(Pulls her rudely)

FLORINDA

Dare you be so cruel?

BLUNT

Cruel, adsheartlikins as a galley slave or a Spanish whore; cruel, yes, I will kiss and beat thee all over; kiss, and see thee all over; thou shalt lie with me too, not that I care for the enjoyment, but to let you see I have taken deliberated malice to thee and will be revenged on one whore for the sins of another; I will smile and deceive thee, flatter thee, and beat thee, kiss and swear and lie to thee, embrace thee and rob thee as she did me, fawn on thee and strip thee stark naked, then hang thee out at my window by the heels with a paper of scurvy verses fastened to thy breast, in praise of damnable women! Come, come along!

FLORINDA

Alas, sir, must I be sacrificed for the crimes of the most infamous of my sex? I never understood the sins you name.

BLUNT

Do, persuade the fool you love him, or that one of you can be just or honest; tell me I was not an easy coxcomb, or any strange impossible tale: it will be believed sooner than thy false showers or protestations. A generation of damned hypocrites, to flatter my very clothes from my back! Dissembling witches! Are these the returns you make an honest gentleman that trusts, believes, and loves you? But if I be not even with you – come along, or I shall –

(Pulls her again)

(Enter Frederick)

FREDERICK

Hah, what’s here to do?

BLUNT

Adsheartlikins, Fred! I am glad thou art come, to be a witness of my dire revenge!

FREDERICK

What’s this, a person of quality too, who is upon the ramble to supply the defects of some grave impotent husband?

BLUNT

No, this has another pretense, some very unfortunate accident brought her hither, to save a life pursued by I know not who or why, and forced to take sanctuary here at Fool’s Haven. Adsheartlikins, to me of all mankind for protection! Is the ass to be cajoled again, think ye? No, young one, no prayers or tears shall mitigate my rage; therefore prepare for both my pleasure of enjoyment and revenge, for I am resolved to make up my loss here on thy body, I’ll take it out in kindness and in beating.

FREDERICK

Now, mistress of mine, what do you think of this?

FLORINDA

I think he will not – dares not be so barbarous!

FREDERICK

Have a care, Blunt, she fetched a deep sigh: she is enamored with thy shirt and drawers, she’ll strip thee even of that! There are of her calling such unconscionable baggages and such dexterous thieves they’ll flea a man, and he shall ne’er miss his skin till he feels the cold. There was a countryman of ours robbed of a row of teeth whilst he was sleeping, which the jilt made him buy again when he waked! You see, lady, how little reason we have to trust you.

BLUNT

’Dsheartlikins, why, this is most abominable!

FLORINDA

Some such devils there may be, but by all that’s holy I am none such, I entered here to save a life in danger!

BLUNT

For no goodness, I’ll warrant her!

FREDERICK

Faith, damsel, you had e’en confess the plain truth, for we are fellows not to be caught twice in the same trap; look on that wreck, a tight vessel when he set out of haven, well-trimmed and laden, and see how a female picaroon of this island of rogues has shattered him, and canst thou hope for any mercy?

BLUNT

No, no, gentlewoman, come along, adsheartlikins, we must be better acquainted! We’ll both lie with her, and then let me alone to bang her.

FREDERICK

I am ready to serve you in matters of revenge, that has a double pleasure in’t.

BLUNT

Well said! You hear, little one, how you are condemned by public vote to the bed within, there’s no resisting your destiny, sweetheart.

(Pulls her)

FLORINDA

Stay, sir, I have seen you with Belvile, an English cavalier, for his sake use me kindly! You know how, sir.

BLUNT

Belvile! Why, yes, sweeting, we do know Belvile, and wish he were with us now, he’s a cormorant at whore and bacon, he’d have a limb or two of thee, my virgin pullet. But ’tis no matter, we’ll leave him the bones to pick.

FLORINDA

Sir, if you have any esteem for that Belvile, I conjure you to treat me with more gentleness, he’ll thank you for the justice.

FREDERICK

Hark ye, Blunt, I doubt we are mistaken in this matter.

FLORINDA

Sir, if you find me not worth Belvile’s care, use me as you please; and that you may think I merit better treatment than you threaten. Pray take this present.

(Gives him a ring; he looks on it)

BLUNT

Hum, a diamond! Why, ’tis a wonderful virtue now that lies in this ring, a mollifying virtue. Adsheartlikins, there’s more persuasive rhetoric in’t than all her sex can utter.

FREDERICK

I begin to suspect something, and ’twould anger us vilely to be trussed up for a rape upon a maid of quality when we only believe we ruffle a harlot.

BLUNT

Thou art a credulous fellow, but adsheartlikins I have no faith yet. Why, my saint prattled as parlously as this does, she gave me a bracelet too, a devil on her! But I sent my man to sell it today for necessaries, and it proved as counterfeit as her vows of love.

FREDERICK

However let it reprieve her till we see Belvile.

BLUNT

That’s hard, yet I will grant it.

(Enter a servant)

SERVANT

Oh, sir, the colonel is just come with his new friend and a Spaniard of quality, and talks of having you to dinner with ’em.

BLUNT

’Dsheartlikins, I’m undone! I would not see ’em for the world: Hark ye, Fred, lock up the wench in your chamber.

FREDERICK

Fear nothing, madam: whate’er he threatens, you’re safe whilst in my Hands.

(Exit Frederick and Florinda)

BLUNT

And, sirrah, upon your life, say I am not at home – or that I am asleep – or – or anything – away – I’ll prevent them coming this way.

(Locks the door and exeunt)

ACT FIVE

SCENE 1

(Blunt’s chamber)

(After a great knocking as at his chamber door, enter Blunt softly, crossing the stage in his shirt and drawers, as before)

WITHIN

Ned! Ned Blunt! Ned Blunt!

BLUNT

The rogues are up in arms, ’dsheartlikins, this villainous Frederick has betrayed me, they have heard of my blessed fortune.

WITHIN

(and knocking within) Ned Blunt! Ned, Ned!

BELVILE

within Why, he’s dead, sir, without dispute dead, he has not been seen today; let’s break open the door. Here, Boy –

BLUNT

Ha, break open the door! ’Dsheartlikins, that mad fellow will be as good as his word!

BELVILE

within Boy, bring something to force the door.

(A great noise within at the door again)

BLUNT

So, now must I speak in my own defense, I’ll try what rhetoric will do. Hold! Hold, what do you mean, gentlemen, what do you mean?

BELVILE

within Oh rogue, art alive? Prithee open the door, and convince us.

BLUNT

Yes, I am alive, gentlemen, but at present a little busy.

BELVILE

[within] How! Blunt grown a man of business! Come, come, open, and let’s see this miracle.

BLUNT

No, no, no, no, gentlemen, ’tis no great business, but – I am – at – my devotion; ’dsheartlikins, will you not allow a man time to pray?

BELVILE

[within] Turned religious! A greater wonder than the first, therefore open quickly or we shall unhinge, we shall.

BLUNT

This won’t do. Why, hark ye, colonel: to tell you the plain truth, I am about a necessary affair of life. I have a wench with me – you apprehend me? The devil’s in’t if they be so uncivil as to disturb me now.

WILLMORE

within How, a wench! Nay, then we must enter and partake! No resistance! Unless it be your lady of quality, and then we’ll keep our distance.

BLUNT

So, the business is out.

WILLMORE

within Come, come, lend more hands to the door – now heave altogether – (Breaks open the door) So, well done, my boys!

(Enter Belvile, Willmore, Frederick, Pedro and Belvile’s page Boy ; Blunt looks simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his hand on his sword, and comes up to Willmore)

BLUNT

The jest has been carried on too long – a plague upon my taylor –

WILLMORE

’Sdeath, how the whore has dressed him! Faith, sir, I’m sorry.

BLUNT

Are you so, sir? Keep’t to yourself then, sir, I advise you, d’ye hear? For I can as little endure your pity as his mirth.

(Lays his hand on’s sword)

BELVILE

Indeed, Willmore, thou wert a little too rough with Ned Blunt’s mistress: call a person of quality whore, and one so young, so handsome, and so eloquent! Ha, ha, ha!

BLUNT

Hark ye, sir, you know me, and know I can be angry! Have a care, for ’dsheartlikins I can fight too, I can, sir, do you mark me? No more!

BELVILE

Why so peevish, good Ned? Some disappointments, I’ll warrant. What, did the jealous count, her husband, return just in the nick?

BLUNT

Or the devil, sir, d’ye laugh? (They laugh) Look ye, settle me a good sober countenance, and that quickly too, or you shall know Ned Blunt is not –

BELVILE

Not everybody, we know that.

BLUNT

Not an ass to be laughed at, sir.

WILLMORE

Unconscionable sinner, to bring a lover so near his happiness, a vigorous passionate lover, and then not only cheat him of his moveables but his desires too.

BELVILE

Ah, sir, a mistress is a trifle with Blunt, he’ll have a dozen the next time he looks abroad, his eyes have charms not to be resisted. There needs no more than to expose that taking person to the view of the fair, and he leads ’em all in triumph.

PEDRO

Sir, though I’m a stranger to you, I’m ashamed at the rudeness of my nation; and could you learn who did it, would assist you to make an example of ’em.

BLUNT

Why, aye, there’s one speaks sense now, and handsomely. And let me tell you, gentlemen, I should not have showed myself like a jack pudding thus to have made you mirth, but that I have revenge within my power. For know, I have got into my possession a female who had better have fallen under any curse than the ruin I design her. ’Dsheartlikins, she assaulted me here in my own lodgings, and had doubtless committed a rape upon me had not this sword defended me.

FREDERICK

I knew not that, but o’ my conscience thou hadst ravished her had she not redeemed herself with a ring. Let’s see’t, Blunt.

(Blunt shows the ring)

BELVILE

Hah, the ring I gave Florinda when we exchanged our vows! Hark ye, Blunt –

(Goes to whisper to him)

WILLMORE

No whispering, good colonel, there’s a woman in the case, no whispering.

BELVILE

Hark ye, fool, be advised and conceal both the ring and the story for your reputation’s sake; don’t let people know what despised cullies we English are: to be cheated and abused by one whore, and another rather bribe thee than be kind to thee, is an infamy to our nation.

WILLMORE

Come, come, where’s the wench? We’ll see her, let her be what she will, we’ll see her.

PEDRO

Ay, ay, let us see her, I can soon discover whether she be of quality or for your diversion.

BLUNT

She’s in Fred’s custody.

WILLMORE

(To Frederick, who gives him the key) Come, come, the key.

(They are going)

BELVILE

Death! What shall I do? Yet if I hinder ’em, I shall discover all.

WILLMORE

Nay, hold there, colonel, I’ll go first.

FREDERICK

Nay, no dispute, Ned and I have the property of her.

WILLMORE

Damn property! Then we’ll draw cuts. (Belvile goes to whisper to Willmore) Nay, no corruption, good colonel: come, the longest sword carries her.

(They all draw, forgetting Don Pedro, being a Spaniard, had the longest)

BLUNT

I yield up my interest to you gentlemen, and that will be revenge sufficient.

WILLMORE

(To Pedro) The wench is yours. Pox of his Toledo, I had forgot that!

FREDERICK

Come, Sir, I’ll conduct you to the lady.

(Exit Frederick and Pedro)

BELVILE

To hinder him will certainly discover!

(Willmore walking up and down out of humor)

WILLMORE

Aye, aye, to trust our fortune to lots, a devil on’t, ’twas madness, that’s the rruth on’t.

BELVILE

Oh, intolerable sot!

(Enter Florinda, running masked, Pedro after her, Willmore gazing round her)

FLORINDA

Good Heaven, defend me from discovery!

PEDRO

’Tis but in vain to fly me, you are fallen to my lot.

BELVILE

Sure she is undiscovered yet, but now I fear there is no way to bring her off.

WILLMORE

Why, what a pox is not this my woman, the same I followed but now?

(Pedro talking to Florinda, who walks up and down)

PEDRO

As if I did not know ye, and your business here.

FLORINDA

Good Heaven! I fear he does indeed!

PEDRO

Come, pray be kind, I know you meant to be so when you entered here, for these are proper gentlemen.

WILLMORE

But, sir, perhaps the lady will not be imposed upon, she’ll choose her man.

PEDRO

I am better bred than not to leave her choice free.

(Enter Valeria, and is surprised at the sight of Don Pedro)

VALERIA

Don Pedro here! There’s no avoiding him.

FLORINDA

Valeria! Then I’m undone!

VALERIA

(To Pedro, running to him) Oh! have I found you, sir! The strangest accident! If I had breath – to tell it!

PEDRO

Speak: is Florinda safe? Hellena well?

VALERIA

Aye, aye, sir – Florinda – is safe – from any fears of you.

PEDRO

Why, where’s Florinda? Speak.

VALERIA

Aye, where indeed, sir? I wish I could inform you – but to hold you no longer in doubt –

FLORINDA

Oh, what will she say!

VALERIA

if you can find her out.

PEDRO

Dishonourable girl, she has undone my aim! Sir, you see my necessity of leaving you, and I hope you’ll pardon it: my sister, I know, will make her flight to you; and if she do, I shall expect she should be rendered back.

BELVILE

I shall consult my love and honor, sir.

(Exit Pedro)

FLORINDA

(To Valeria) My dear preserver, let me embrace thee!

WILLMORE

What the devil’s all this?

BLUNT

Mystery by this light.

VALERIA

Come, come, make haste and get yourselves married quickly, for your brother will return again.

BELVILE

I am so surprised with fears and joys, so amazed to find you here in safety, I can scarce persuade my heart into a faith of what I see.

WILLMORE

Hark ye, colonel, is this that mistress who has cost you so many sighs, and me so many quarrels with you?

BELVILE

It is! (To Florinda) Pray give him the honor of your hand.

WILLMORE

Thus it must be received then. (Kneels and kisses her hand) And with it give your pardon too.

FLORINDA

The friend to Belvile may command me anything.

WILLMORE

Death, would I might, ’tis a surprising beauty.

BELVILE

Boy, run and fetch a father instantly.

(Exit Boy)

FREDERICK

So, now do I stand like a dog, and have not a syllable to plead my own cause with. By this hand, madam, I was never thoroughly confounded before, nor shall I ever more dare look up with confidence till you are pleased to pardon me.

FLORINDA

Sir, I’ll be reconciled to you on one condition, that you’ll follow the example of your friend in marrying a maid that does not hate you and whose fortune (I believe) will not be unwelcome to you.

FREDERICK

Madam, had I no inclinations that way, I should obey your kind commands.

BELVILE

Who? Fred marry? He has so few inclinations for womankind that had he been possessed of Paradise he might have continued there to this day if no crime but love could have disinherited him.

FREDERICK

Oh, I do not use to boast of my intrigues.

BELVILE

Boast! Why thou dost nothing but boast; and I dare swear, wer’t thou as innocent from the sin of the grape as thou art from the apple, thou mightest yet claim that right in Eden which our first parents lost by too much loving.

FREDERICK

I wish this lady would think me so modest a man.

VALERIA

She should be sorry then, and not like you half so well, and I should be loathe to break my word with you, which was that if your friend and mine are agreed it should be a match between you and I.

(She gives him her hand)

FREDERICK

Bear witness, colonel, ’tis a bargain.

(Kisses her hand)

BLUNT

(To Florinda) I have a pardon to beg too; but adsheartlikins I am so out of countenance that I am a dog if I can say anything to purpose.

FLORINDA

Sir, I heartily forgive you all.

BLUNT

That’s nobly said, sweet lady. Belvile, prithee present her her ring again, for I find I have not courage to approach her myself.

(Gives him the ring, he gives it to Florinda)

(Enter Boy)

BOY

Sir, I have brought the father that you sent for.

BELVILE

’Tis well, and now my dear Florinda, let’s fly to complete that mighty joy we have so long wished and sighed for. Come, Fred, you’ll follow?

FREDERICK

Your example, sir, ’twas ever my ambition in war, and must be so in love.

WILLMORE

And must not I see this juggling knot tied?

BELVILE

No, thou shalt do us better service, and be our guard, lest Don Pedro’s sudden return interrupt the ceremony.

WILLMORE

Content: I’ll secure this pass.

(Exit Belvile, Florinda, Frederick, and Valeria)

(Enter Boy)

BOY

(To Willmore) Sir, there’s a lady without would speak to you.

WILLMORE

Conduct her in, I dare not quit my post.

BOY

And, sir, your tailor waits you in your chamber.

BLUNT

Some comfort yet: I shall not dance naked at the wedding!

(Exit Blunt and Boy)

(Enter again the Boy, conducting in Angellica in a masking habit and a vizard; Willmore runs to her])

WILLMORE

This can be none but my pretty gypsy!

ANGELLICA

Stand off, base villain!

(She draws a pistol and holds to his breast)

WILLMORE

Hah, ’tis not she!

ANGELLICA

One thou hast injured, and who comes to kill thee for’t.

WILLMORE

What the devil canst thou mean?

ANGELLICA

By all my hopes to kill thee.

(Holds still the pistol to his breast, he going back, she following still)

WILLMORE

Prithee on what acquaintance? For I know thee not.

ANGELLICA

Behold this face! So lost to thy remembrance! 108

And then call all thy sins about thy soul,

And let them die with thee.

(Pulls off her vizard)

WILLMORE

Angellica!

ANGELLICA

Yes, Traitor! 110

Does not thy guilty blood run shivering through thy ceins?

Hast thou no horror at this sight, that tells thee,

Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful conquest?

WILLMORE

Faith no, child, my blood keeps its old ebbs and flows still, and that usual heat too, that could oblige thee with a kindness had I but opportunity.

ANGELLICA

Devil! Dost wanton with my pain, have at thy heart!

WILLMORE

Death, I think she’s in earnest.

ANGELLICA

Oh if I take not heed, 114

My coward heart will leave me to his mercy.

What have you, sir, to say? But should I hear thee,

Thou’ldst talk away all that is brave about me,

((Follows him with the pistol to his breast))

And I have vowed thy death, by all that’s sacred.

WILLMORE

Why, then there’s an end of a proper handsome fellow, that might have lived to have done good service yet: that’s all I can say to’t.

ANGELLICA

(Pausingly) Yet – I would give thee – time for penitence.

WILLMORE

Faith, child, I thank God, I have ever took care to lead a good, sober, hopeful life, and am of a religion that teaches me to believe, I shall depart in peace.

ANGELLICA

So will the devil: tell me, 118

How many poor believing fools thou hast undone?

How many hearts thou hast betrayed to ruin?

Yet these are little mischiefs to the ills

Thou’st taught mine to commit: thou’st taught it love.

WILLMORE

Egad, ’twas shrewdly hurt the while.

ANGELLICA

Love, that has robbed it of its unconcern, 120

Of all that pride that taught me how to value it,

And in its room a mean submissive passion was conveyed

That made me humbly bow, which I ne’er did

To anything but Heaven.

Thou, perjured man, didst this, and with thy oaths

Which on thy knees thou didst devoutly make,

Softened my yielding heart; And then I was a slave,

Yet still had been content to’ve worn my chains,

Worn ’em with vanity and joy forever,

Hadst thou not broke those vows that put them on.

’Twas then I was undone.

(All this while follows him with a pistol to his breast)

WILLMORE

Broke my vows! Why, where hast thou lived? 121

Amongst the gods! For I never heard of mortal man,

That has not broke a thousand vows.

ANGELLICA

Oh, impudence! 122

WILLMORE

Angellica! That beauty has been too long tempting 123

Not to have made a thousand lovers languish,

Who in the amorous favor, no doubt have sworn

Like me; did they all die in that faith? Still adoring?

I do not think they did.

ANGELLICA

No, faithless man. Had I repaid their vows, as I did thine, I would have killed the ungrateful that had abandoned me.

WILLMORE

This old general has quite spoiled thee: nothing makes a woman so vain as being flattered. Your old lover ever supplies the defects of age with intolerable dotage, vast charge, and that which you call constancy; and attributing all this to your own merits you domineer, and throw your favors in’s teeth, upbraiding him still with the defects of age and cuckold him as often as he deceives your expectations. But the gay, young, brisk lover that brings his equal fires and can give you dart for dart, he’ll be as nice as you sometimes.

ANGELLICA

All this thou’st made me know, for which I hate thee. 126

Had I remained in innocent security,

I should have thought all men were born my slaves,

And worn my power like lightning in my eyes

To have destroyed at pleasure when offended.

But when love held the mirror, the undeceiving glass

Reflected all the weakness of my soul, and made me know,

My richest treasure being lost, my honor,

All the remaining spoil could not be worth

The conqueror’s care or value.

Oh, how I fell like a long-worshiped idol,

Discovering all the cheat!

Would not the incense and rich sacrifice,

Which blind devotion offered at my altars,

Have fallen to thee?

Why woudst thou then destroy my fancied power?

WILLMORE

By Heaven, thou art brave, and I admire thee strangely. 127

I wish I were that dull, that constant thing,

Which thou woudst have, and nature never meant me.

I must, like cheerful birds, sing in all groves,

And perch on every bough,

Billing the next kind she that flies to meet me.

Yet after all could build my nest with thee,

Thither repairing when I’d loved my round,

And still reserve a tributary flame.

To gain your credit, I’ll pay you back your charity

And be obliged for nothing but for love.

(Offers her a purse of gold)

ANGELLICA

Oh that thou wert in earnest! 128

So mean a thought of me

Would turn my rage to scorn, and I should pity thee

And give thee leave to live,

Which for the public safety of our sex,

And my own private injuries, I dare not do.

Prepare –

((Follows still, as before))

– I will no more be tempted with replies.

WILLMORE

Sure – 129

ANGELLICA

Another word will damn thee! I’ve heard thee talk too long.

(She follows him with a pistol ready to shoot: he retires still amazed)

(Enter Don Antonio, his arm in a scarf, and lays hold on the pistol)

ANTONIO

Hah! Angellica!

ANGELLICA

Antonio! What devil brought thee hither?

ANTONIO

Love and curiosity, seeing your coach at door. Let me disarm you of this unbecoming instrument of death. (Takes away the pistol) Amongst the number of your slaves, was there not one worthy the honor to have fought your quarrel? Who are you, sir, that are so very wretched to merit death from her?

WILLMORE

One, sir, that could have made a better end of an amorous quarrel without you than with you.

ANTONIO

Sure, ’tis some rival! Hah, the very man took down her picture yesterday, the very same that set on me last night; blessed opportunity!

(Offers to shoot him)

ANGELLICA

Hold, you’re mistaken, Sir.

ANTONIO

By Heaven, the very same! Sir, what pretensions have you to this lady?

WILLMORE

Sir, I don’t use to be examined, and am ill at all disputes but this.

(Draws; Antonio offers to shoot)

ANGELLICA

(To Willmore) Oh, hold! you see he’s armed with certain death! 139

And you, Antonio, I command you hold,

By all the passion you’ve so lately vowed me.

(Enter Don Pedro, sees Antonio, and stays)

PEDRO

Hah, Antonio! And Angellica!

ANTONIO

When I refuse obedience to your will, 141

May you destroy me with your mortal hate.

By all that’s holy, I adore you so,

That even my rival, who has charms enough

To make him fall a victim to my jealousy,

Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still.

PEDRO

What’s this I hear?

ANGELLICA

(Pointing to Willmore) Ah thus, ’twas thus he talked, and I believed. Antonio, yesterday, 143

I’d not have sold my interest in his heart

For all the sword has won and lost in battle.

To Willmore But now, to show my utmost of contempt,

I give thee life, which if thou wouldst preserve;

Live where my eyes may never see thee more,

Live to undo someone whose soul may prove

So bravely constant to revenge my love.

(Goes out; Antonio follows, but Pedro pulls him back)

PEDRO

Antonio, stay. 144

ANTONIO

Don Pedro! 145

PEDRO

What coward fear was that prevented thee 146

From meeting me this morning on the Molo?

ANTONIO

Meet thee? 147

PEDRO

Yes, me; I was the man that dared thee to’t. 148

ANTONIO

Hast thou so often seen me fight in war, 149

To find no better cause to excuse my absence?

I sent my sword and one to do thee right,

Finding myself uncapable to use a sword.

PEDRO

But ’twas Florinda’s quarrel that we fought, 150

And you to show how little you esteemed her,

Sent me your rival, giving him your interest.

But I have found the cause of this affront,

But when I meet you fit for the dispute,

I’ll tell you my resentment.

ANTONIO

I shall be ready, sir, ere long to do you reason. 151

(Exit Antonio)

PEDRO

If I could find Florinda, now whilst my anger’s high, I think I should be kind and give her to Belvile in revenge.

WILLMORE

Faith, Sir, I know not what you would do, but I believe the priest within has been so kind.

PEDRO

How! My sister married?

WILLMORE

I hope by this time she is, and bedded too, or he has not my longings about him.

PEDRO

Dares he do thus? Does he not fear my power?

WILLMORE

Faith, not at all. If you will go in, and thank him for the favor he has done your sister, so. If not, sir, my power’s greater in this house than yours: I have a damned surly crew here that will keep you till the next tide, and then clap you and board my prize. My ship lies but a league off the Molo, and we shall show your donship a damned Tramontana rover’s trick.

(Enter Belvile)

BELVILE

This rogue’s in some new mischief – hah, Pedro returned!

PEDRO

Colonel Belvile, I hear you have married my sister.

BELVILE

You have heard truth then, sir.

PEDRO

Have I so? Then, sir, I wish you joy.

BELVILE

How!

PEDRO

By this embrace I do, and I glad on’t.

BELVILE

Are you in earnest?

PEDRO

By our long friendship and my obligations to thee, I am. The sudden change I’ll give you reasons for anon. Come, lead me into my sister, that she may know I now approve her choice.

(Exit Belvile with Pedro)

(Willmore goes to follow them; Enter Hellena as before in boy’s clothes, and pulls him back)

WILLMORE

Ha, my gypsy! Now a thousand blessings on thee for this kindness. Egad, child, I was e’en in despair of ever seeing thee again; my friends are all provided for within, each man his kind woman.

HELLENA

Hah! I thought they had served me some such trick.

WILLMORE

And I was e’en resolved to go aboard, condemn myself to my lone cabin and the thoughts of thee.

HELLENA

And could you have left me behind? Would you have been so ill-natured?

WILLMORE

Why, ’twould have broke my heart, child. But since we are met again, I defy foul weather to part us.

HELLENA

And would you be a faithful friend now, if a maid should trust you?

WILLMORE

For a friend I cannot promise, thou art of a form so excellent, a face and humor too good for cold dull friendship. I am parlously afraid of being in love, child, and you have not forgot how severely you have used me.

HELLENA

That’s all one, such usage you must still look for, to find out all your haunts, to rail at you to all that love you, till I have made you love only me in your own defense, because nobody else will love.

WILLMORE

But hast thou no better quality to recommend thyself by?

HELLENA

Faith none, captain. Why, ’twill be the greater charity to take me for thy mistress: I am a lone child, a kind of orphan lover, and why I should die a maid, and in a captain’s hands too, I do not understand.

WILLMORE

Egad, I was never clawed away with broadsides from any female before; thou hast one virtue I adore: good nature. I hate a coy demure mistress, she’s as troublesome as a colt, I’ll break none. No, give me a mad mistress when mewed, and in flying on[e] I dare trust upon the wing that whilst she’s kind will come to the lure.

HELLENA

Nay, as kind as you will, good Captain, whilst it lasts, but let’s lose no time.

WILLMORE

My time’s as precious to me as thine can be; therefore, dear creature, since we are so well agreed, let’s retire to my chamber, and if ever thou were treated with such savory love – come – my bed’s prepared for such a guest, all clean and sweet as thy fair self. I love to steal a dish and a bottle with a friend, and hate long graces. Come, let’s retire and fall to.

HELLENA

’Tis but getting my consent, and the business is soon done; let but old gaffer hymen and his priest say “amen” to’t, and I dare lay my mother’s daughter by as proper a fellow as your father’s son without fear or blushing.

WILLMORE

Hold, hold, no bug words, child! Priest and hymen! Prithee add hangman to ’em to make up the consort! No, no, we’ll have no vows but love, child, nor witness but the lover; the kind deity enjoins naught but love and enjoy. Hymen and priest wait still upon portion and jointure; love and beauty have their own ceremonies. Marriage is as certain a bane to love as lending money is to friendship: I’ll neither ask nor give a vow, though I could be content to turn gypsy and become a left-hand bridegroom to have the pleasure of working that great miracle of making a maid a mother, if you durst venture. ’Tis upse gypsy that, and if I miss, I’ll lose my labor.

HELLENA

And if you do not lose, what shall I get? A cradle full of noise and mischief, with a pack of repentance at my back? Can you teach me to weave incle to pass my time with? ’Tis upse gypsy that too.

WILLMORE

I can teach thee to weave a true love’s knot better.

HELLENA

So can my dog.

WILLMORE

Well, I see we are both upon our guard, and I see there’s no way to conquer good nature, but by yielding: here, give me thy hand, one kiss and I am thine.

HELLENA

One kiss! How like my page he speaks; I am resolved you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking sum. He that will be satisfied with one kiss will never die of that longing. Good friend Single-kiss, is all your talking come to this? A kiss, a caudle! Farewell, Captain Single-kiss!

(Going out he stays her)

WILLMORE

Nay, if we part so let me die like a bird upon a bough, at the sheriff’s charge. By Heaven, both the Indies shall not buy thee from me. I adore thy humor and will marry thee, and we are so of one humor, it must be a bargain. Give me thy hand – (Kisses her hand) – and now let the blind ones (love and fortune) do their worst.

HELLENA

Why, God-a-mercy, captain!

WILLMORE

But hark ye: the bargain is now made, but is it not fit we should know each other’s names? That when we have reason to curse one another hereafter, and people ask me who ’tis I give to the devil, I may at least be able to tell what family you came of?

HELLENA

Good reason, captain, and where I have cause (as I doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my – blessings – I beseech ye your name.

WILLMORE

I am called Robert the Constant.

HELLENA

A very fine name! Pray, was it your faulkner or butler that christened you? Do they not use to whistle when then call you?

WILLMORE

I hope you have a better, that a man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with mine.

HELLENA

I am called Hellena the Inconstant.

(Enter Pedro, Belvile, Florinda, Frederick, Valeria)

PEDRO

Hah! Hellena!

FLORINDA

Hellena!

HELLENA

The very same! Hah, my brother! Now, captain, show your love and courage: stand to your arms and defend me bravely, or I am lost forever.

PEDRO

(Goes roughly to her) What’s this I hear? False girl, how came you hither, and what’s your business? Speak.

WILLMORE

(Puts himself between) Hold off, sir, you have leave to parley only.

HELLENA

I had e’en as good tell it, as you guess it. Faith, brother, my business is the same with all living creatures of my age: to love, and be loved, and here’s the man.

PEDRO

Perfidious maid, hast thou deceived me too? Deceived thyself and Heaven?

HELLENA

’Tis time enough to make my peace with that: be you but kind, let me alone with Heaven.

PEDRO

Belvile, I did not expect this false play from you. Was’t not enough you’d gain Florinda (which I pardoned) but your lewd friends too must be enriched with the spoils of a noble family?

BELVILE

Faith, sir, I am as much surprised at this as you can be. Yet, sir, my friends are gentlemen, and ought to be esteemed for their misfortunes, since they have the glory to suffer with the best of men and kings. ’Tis true, he’s a rover of fortune, yet a prince aboard his little wooden world.

PEDRO

What’s this to the maintenance of a woman or her birth and quality?

WILLMORE

Faith, sir, I can boast of nothing but a sword which does me right where-e’er I come, and has defended a worse cause than a woman’s. And since I loved her before I either knew her birth or name, I must pursue my resolution and marry her.

PEDRO

And is all your holy intent of becoming a nun debauched into a desire of man?

HELLENA

Why, I have considered the matter, brother, and find the three hundred thousand crowns my uncle left me (and you cannot keep from me) will be better laid out in love than in religion, and turn to as good an account. Let most voices carry it: for Heaven or the captain?

ALL

A captain, a captain!

HELLENA

Look ye, sir, ’tis a clear case.

PEDRO

If I refuse, my life’s in danger!

(Gives her to him)

WILLMORE

Faith, sir, I am of a nation that are of opinion a woman’s honor is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.

HELLENA

Well said, captain!

PEDRO

(To Valeria) This was your plot, mistress, but I hope you have married one that will revenge my quarrel to you.

VALERIA

There’s no altering destiny, sir.

PEDRO

Sooner than a woman’s will, therefore I forgive you all and wish you may get my father’s pardon as easily; which I fear.

(Enter Blunt dressed in a Spanish habit, looking very ridiculously; his man adjusting his band])

MAN

’Tis very well, sir.

BLUNT

Well, sir, ’dsheartlikins I tell you ’tis damnable ill, sir! A Spanish habit, good lord! Could the devil and my tailor devise no other punishment for me but the mode of a nation I abominate?

BELVILE

What’s the matter, Ned?

BLUNT

Pray view me round, and judge.

(Turns round)

BELVILE

I must confess thou art a kind of an odd figure.

BLUNT

In a Spanish habit with a vengeance! I had rather be in the Inquisition for Judaism than in this doublet and breeches. A pillory were an easy collar to this, three handfuls high! And these shoes too are worse than the stocks, with the sole an inch shorter than my foot. In fine, gentlemen, methinks I look altogether like a bag of bays, stuffed full of fool’s flesh.

BELVILE

Methinks ’tis well, and makes thee look e’en cavalier. Come, sir, settle your face, and salute our friends, lady –

BLUNT

Hah! Sayest thou so, my little rover? (To Hellena) Lady, (if you be one) give me leave to kiss your hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your humble servant. A pox of my Spanish habit!

WILLMORE

Hark, what’s this?

(Music is heard to play)

(Enter Boy)

BOY

Sir, as the custom is, the gay people in masquerade, who make every man’s house their own, are coming up.

(Enter several men and women in masking habits, with music, they put themselves in order and dance)

BLUNT

Adsheartlikins, would ’twere lawful to pull off their false faces, that I might see if my doxy were not amongst ’em.

BELVILE

(To the maskers) Ladies and gentlemen, since you are come so a propos , you must take a small collation with us.

WILLMORE

Whilst we’ll to the good man within, who stays to give us a cast of his office. To Hellena Have you no trembling at the near approach?

HELLENA

No more than you have in an engagement or a tempest.

WILLMORE

Egad, thou’rt a brave girl, and I admire thy love and courage. 230

Lead on, no other dangers they can dread,

Who venture in the storms o’th’ marriage bed.

(Exeunt)