Love Tricks, or, The School Of Complement - Act II
ACT II. SCENE I
A Room in Rufaldo's House .
Enter BUBULCUS .
Bub. If I were a woman, now could I fall in love with myself: every body tells me I am the properest gentleman in the town, and I put it up; for the truth is, I dare not give any one the lie. A pox o' fighting! I can look as big as another, but shall I be such an ass, to venture myself with beasts? for they say your swords most commonly are foxes, and have notable metal in them. — Let me see, I am now at Rufaldo's, my father-in-law that must be; here he is —
Enter RUFALDO youthfully apparelled .
Master Rufaldo, if you had been mine own father, as you are but like to be my father-in-law, I should have proved myself a fool; by this hand, I should not have known you: why, how brisk, and neat, and youthful he is!
Ruf. I am something altered, I confess, since I saw you.
Bub. By this flesh that shines, a man would not take you to be above five or six and thirty at most; how came this?
Ruf. Just as Gasparo told me! 'tis apparent. Nay, nay, son, forbear to be inquisitive: I confess I am abated of my age; — the power of love, and so forth — but I see your fire of love is not out too.
Bub. No, mine was but raked up in the embers.
Ruf. Why, this love does make us all ingenious too; come, sit down. — [ places a cushion under him .] — Saving your tail, sir, a cushion; we may discourse with the more ease.
Bub. Pray, how does my sweetheart, mistress Hilaria?
Ruf. She is very well. — Ha, son, I am in love too; son I call you. I hope you will get my daughter's good will; but you'll find her peevish.
Bub. No matter, sir, for that; I would not have her easily; I would sweat for her: I warrant I'll make her love me.
Guf. Look you, can you read. — [ Gives Bub. a paper .] — I made a ditty to send my mistress, and my musician, that I keep in my house to teach my daughter, hath set it to a very good air, he tells me: you shall hear and judge of it; I hear him tuning his instrument.
Musician sings within .
God of war, to Cupid yield,
He is master of the field;
He with arrow hits the heart,
Thou with lance the worser part.
Cupid greater is than Jove,
Since he wounded was with love;
Nay, in power, by much odds,
He excels the other gods.
Love transform'd Jove to a swan,
Made Ulysses a mad-man,
But Rufaldo it does make.
Young, for his Selina's sake.
Ruf. How do you relish it, ha?
Bub. In troth the ditty is as pretty an air as e'er I saw; 'tis divided into three regions, too; I warrant you can make ballads easily?
Ruf. Oh fie! they are barbarous and ignoble; that's beggarly.
Bub. But for all that, I have read good stuff sometimes, especially in your fighting ballads: When cannons are roaring, and bullets are flying, &c .
Ruf. Fie! whipping-post, tinkerly stuff! How did you like the air?
Bub. As sweet an air as a man would wish to live in; but 'tis somewhat backward.
Ruf. [sings.] Oh music, the life of the soul!
Bub. I should have learn'd music once too, but my master had so many crotchets, I could ne'er away with it. But where is your daughter, sir? there is no music without her; she is the best instrument to play upon.
Ruf. And you shall have her between your legs presently.
Bub. I had as lief be betwixt her's, for all that.
Ruf. Hilaria! where is this girl? I'll fetch her to you, and leave her with you, for I have a love of mine own, to whom I mean in person to present this ditty. I'll fetch her.
Bub. I do not see what fault she can find with me; and if I had some good word to come over her: — but I must help it out, an need be, with swearing. But here she is.
Re-enter RUFALDO with HILARIA ; ANTONIO following at a distance ,
Ruf. Still Antonio with you? you are a foolish girl: do I take care to provide a husband for you, and will you cast away yourself upon a prodigal? But that I would not discontent his sister, whom I hope to make my wife, I would forbid him my house; therefore be wise, and take heed of him, he's giddy-headed, and loose-bodied. The bee may buz, but he will leave a sting: plant your love there, — [ pointing to Bubulcus .] — upon my blessing; he hath many lordships.
Hil. Pray heaven he have good manners.
Ruf. I have set open the gate of opportunity; Cupid speed us both!
Bub. Let me alone to enter my man, now the point is open. — Hum! [ sees Antonio .] — Stay, there's a man in her tables more than I looked for: sfoot, he kisses her! I'll call Rufaldo back. — [ goes to the side of the stage .] — He's out of sight; it were but a cowardly trick for me to run away.
Ant. The bee may buzz! — now the sting of conscience eat up his gut, fry his suet, and leave him at his death not able to weigh down a pound of candle.
Bub. He talks of suet; I do melt already.
Hil. Look, do you see that man of clothes? — [ pointing to Bubulcus .] — upon my father's blessing, he must be my husband. What will you do?
Ant. Fight with him; his clothes are too big for him; I'll beat him till he swell to them.
Hil. No, as you love me, do not strike him.
Bub. [ side .] — I will set a good face [on't], whatsoever come. — Hilaria, how does my love? come, kiss: [ kisses her .] — why, so! this comes of valour. We fall to, and he falls off; he's some coward, I hope. — And how dost, Hilaria? 'tis an age since I saw thee: what springal is that? ha!
Hil. One that desires to be of your acquaintance, sir.
Bub. My acquaintance! Who is he? none but knights, and knights fellows, are of my acquaintance. I scorn gentlemen.
Hil. But, for my sake, pray be acquainted with him.
Bub. Thou shalt do much with me. — Sir, I am content, for her sake whom I love, to be acquainted with you: Wilt borrow any money? for so do all that begin their acquaintance with me; 'tis the fashion. — He is a coward, is he not? — [ to Selina .] — Here: — [ offers Antonio money .] — Nay, an you scorn my money, I scorn your acquaintance.
Hil. Pray, for my sake.
Bub. Why, he will borrow no money of me; I had never such a trick put upon me, since I knew what acquaintance was: I am sure there have been forty acquainted with me, since I came to town, and not one had so little breeding, to let me ask them the question. We could no sooner shake [one] hand, but the other was in my pocket: it may be 'tis his modesty. — Sir, this is my love, Hilaria, and if you will not borrow money of me, by this hand, there lies my sword, — [ throws down his sword .] — he is a coward?
Hil. It appears.
Bub. Hilaria is my mistress, and if any man dare be so venturous as to blast her reputation with a foul breath, he shall breathe his last.
Hil. 'Tis very sure; he shall not be immortal.
Bub. Or, if you shall offer in my presence, to defile her lip, or touch her hand, or kiss but the nether part of her vesture, you had better kiss her in another place; nay, do but blow on her — —
His. You forget yourself; this is my friend.
Bub. Or wink at her, or speak to her, or make signs, or think on her to my face, you had better keep your thoughts to yourself: — now, to conclude, and if you be aggrieved, my name is Bubulcus, and you lie.
Ant. And you lie — there on the ground. — [ throws him down .] — Why should I not knock his brains out with his own hilts, or stake him to the ground, like a man that had hang'd himself? — Sirrah clothes, rat of Nilus' fiction, monster, golden calf: oh! I could kick thee till thou hast no more brains than thy cousin woodcock! I will not dishonour myself to kill thee; half a dozen kicks will be as good as a house of correction. — Out, you monkey!
Bub. [ rises .] — Oh, that I could run thee thorough body and soul! I will challenge thee: a pox on your toes! would I had the paring of your nails! Were you dumb so long for this?
Ant. Hence!
Bub. Who look'd for you? when will you be here again? Look for a challenge; the time may come, when I will beat thee.
Ant. Has thy father left a multitude of men to make choice of this piece of folly to be thy husband! Oh, the blindness of a covetous, wretched father, that is led only by the ears, and in love with sounds! Nature had done well to have thrust him into the world without an eye, that, like a mole, is so affected to base earth, and there means to dig for Paradise: but come, Hilaria;
Fathers their children and themselves abuse,
That wealth a husband for their daughter choose.
SCENE II.
A Room in Cornelio's House .
Enter CORNELIO , RUFALDO , and SELINA .
Cor. I did not think, Rufaldo, pardon me,
You could have so prevail'd; but if she can
Plant her affection on you, I'll not be
Backward to call you son.
Sel. He does appear
With all the charms of love upon his eye,
And not rough drawn, but polish'd; he assumes
A power 'bove all resistance.
Cor. An old man's darling, is a petty queen,
Above all her desires.
Ruf. Nay, she shall want nothing my wealth can purchase. — O my sweet Selina!
Cor. Rufaldo, with your patience, I would have
A word or two in private; you need not
Prejudicate me.
Ruf. With all my heart.
Cor. Selina,
Thou know'st I am thy father.
Sel. My duty, sir, shall speak it.
Cor. And you know
Whom you have rejected.
Sel. Young Infortunio.
Cor. And you know what man
He is with whom you mean to tie that knot
Nothing but death is able to undo.
Sel. Rufaldo, sir; an old man.
Cor. Oh, Selina!
Felice, thy poor sister, thou recall'st
To sad remembrance; but heaven, alas!
Knows only where she is.
Sel. Sir, I have often heard you talk of her,
But never knew that sister well.
Cor. Thou, with thy uncle's tenderness, wast kept
Always in the country, not, until her loss,
At home with me: her fate taught me to give
A liberty to thee, her I restrain'd,
Poor wench, in love with Gasparo; till, betwixt
Obedience to a father, and the love
To him, she left us both, father and friend.
Now, to avoid the like affliction,
I vow'd thy freedom; and thou see'st I do not
Encounter thy affection with the bonds
A father might enforce upon his child.
Sel. I humbly thank you, [sir.]
Cor. But yet, Selina,
Take heed, be not too rash; I have observ'd
You want no common judgment, O, do not
Precipitate thyself into a sorrow
Shall waste thee with repentance; let me tell you,
There is a method, when your passion's young,
To keep it in obedience: you love Rufaldo!
Art thou not young? How will the rose agree
With a dead hyacinth? or the honey wood-bind,
Circling a withered briar? —
You can apply. Can you submit your body
To bed with ice and snow, your blood to mingle?
Would you be deaf'd with coughing, teach your eye
How to be rheumatic? Breathes he not out
His body in diseases, and, like dust,
Falling all into pieces, as if nature
Would make him his own grave. I say too much.
O, what are all the riches of the world
To an oppressed mind, which then must be
Fed with despair of change? or will [his] gold
Buy off th' imprisonment? Nay, will it not
Compose the chains, that bind you to endure it?
Well, I have said enough, keep still your freedom —
And lose it where you will, you shall not blame
Me for your fate, nor grieve me with your shame.
Sel. Dear father, low as earth I tender you
The duty of a daughter; I have heard you
Not with a careless ear. That liberty
You have bestow'd on me, for which I owe
All that I am, doth make me confident
You will not be offended, if I tell you
My love is virtuous; were it otherwise,
I should elect, as you premonish, youth
And prodigal blood. And, father, I think here
I shew myself your daughter, nor am I
Without good precedent too: how many fine.
Young, noble ladies, in this fairy isle,
Have match'd with reverend age? and live as they
Were born from nature's purity, free from stain
Of sensual imputation; by their loves,
Deriving heavenly honours to themselves
'Bove merit of equality.
Cor. No more. Heaven's blessing
And mine light on thee: thou shalt have Rufaldo.
Sel. I would not leave Rufaldo for a world
Of rash untemperate youth, believe it, sir.
Cor. Rufaldo, heard you that? She says she would
Not leave you for a world of other men.
Ruf. Nor I, for a thousand worlds, forsake my love. —
Come seal it with a kiss, another! another! another!
Cor. As close as cockles!
Ruf. Oh, that we were married!
'Tis death to stay the ceremonies; would
We were abed together!
Cor. 'Twere time, I see, we were at conference,
To confirm all things for the marriage.
You being agreed, I think we shall not differ
In other circumstance, and 'twere sin to let
That keep your joys asunder by delay.
Please you, we'll have some treaties.
Ruf. Most willingly. — O my bird, my chick, my dove, my America, my new-found world! I shall shortly run back into one-and-twenty again.
Sel. With what agility he moves himself,
As he were made of air! Let weakness tax
Our inequality, I have a mind
Can easily contemn what the world's malice,
Out of its own first guiltiness, can throw
Upon our loves: it shall be enough for me
Thus to convince the world of so much baseness,
Lodg'd in luxurious thoughts, by my chaste life.
Rufaldo, thou art mine, all time, methinks,
Is slow, till we be actually possest
Of mutual enjoying. — Stay, who's this?
Enter JENKIN , and his page JOCARELLO .
The Welshman that delivers his affection
At second hand, to me.
Jen. Look you, pages, where our sweehearts and pigsnies be, and could her tell what to say to her now, know her heart very well, but pogs upon her, cannot aule her knowledge speak rhetorics, and oratories, and fine words to her? Look you knaw, better to fight, and cut doublets with her Welsh glaves, mark you.
Joc. Sir, will you lose this opportunity? you'll curse yourself in Welsh, two or three days together for't.
Jen. Sentlewoman, if her knaw not her name, was Jenken, born in Wales, came of pig houses, and Brittish bloods, was have great hills and mountains aule her own, when was get 'em again, any
Your face, the fall of others, or, unpitied
Of heaven and earth, die loathsome! I could curse.
Jen. Her can curse, and swear too, look you now.
Infor. Pardon, divinest sex, passions do force
My reason from me,
I do submit, crave pardon, as your creature.
Jen. Nay, an her crave pardon, and make submissions, Jenkin was put up awl her angers and indignations. Farewell.
Infor. Oh, Selina!
Thou art too much an adamant
To draw my soul unto thee; either be
Softer, or less attractive: but Rufaldo! —
'Tis depth of witchcraft; oh! I could be mad,
Beyond all patience mad; it is some malice"
Hath laid this poison on her.
Enter Gorgon with a Letter .
Gor. Here's Infortunio. Alas, poor gentleman! Little does he think what black and white is here; a bitter handful of commendations to him. My young mistress is mad of the old coxcomb, and will marry him almost without asking. I cannot tell, but if she do not cuckold him, and make him cry corns on his toes! ere he die, he has fool's fortune; for a wise man would be out of hope to avoid it.
He spies me.
Infor. Whither running, Gorgon?
Gor. Not out of my wit, sir; I have a letter from my young mistress Selina must, in all haste, have cleanly conveyance to old Rufaldo.
Infor. Let me but see the directions.
To my beloved friend, master Rufaldo: — 'tis a lie; she was mistaken; it was I should owe' this appellation. I'll not believe the superscription; 'tis a painted face, I'll see the heart on't.
Gor. I hope, sir, you will not throw open the sheet, and discover my mistress's secrets? — How he stares!
Infor. [reads.] If you love me, and wish me constant, be your own friend, and let our marriage day begin with the next morning; thine , Selina.
Oh! she's mad.
All womankind is mad; and I am mad.
Whom shall I rend in pieces for my wrongs?
And as with atoms fill this poison'd air?
Rufaldo!
Stay, is not she a creature rational?
Oh no, there is no spark of nature in her;
All is sunk, lost for ever: stay, stay; see.
Gor. He has made a tailor's bill on't, torn't in pieces ere it be discharg'd. What shall I do?
Infor. This is Medea's brother, torn in pieces,
And this the way where she with Jason flies
From Colchis, come not near them; see, [see]; look!
That's an arm rent off.
Gor. This?
Infor. And the hand beckons us
To cry out murder.
Gor. I'll but hold it by the hand.
Infor. That's a leg of the boy.
Gor. This, sir, a leg? it shall go with me, then.
Infor. There, there 'tis, head and yellow curled locks,
His eyes are full of tears; now they do stare,
To see where all his other members lie.
Gor. So! I have all his quarters, I'll presently, sir, get poles for them, and hang them upon the gates in their postures for you.
Infor. But she and Jason are both shipp'd, and Argo
Is sailing home to Greece. See how the waves
Do toss the vessel, and the winds conspire
To dash it 'gainst a rock! it rides upon
A watery mountain, and is hid in clouds;
It cannot stay there: now, now, [now] it tumbles
Three fathom beneath hell! let them [e'en] go.
Here comes the father of Medea now,
Calling in vain unto the gods, and spies
His son's limbs thrown about, instead of flowers,
To his daughter's nuptials; he does take them up;
He knows the face, and now he tears his hair,
And raves, and cries, Medea! Poor old man!
Command a funeral pile for the young child,
And lay the pretty limbs on 't, from whose ashes
Shalt have another son in the shape of Phaenix. —
Shall I? — O, excellent! Prepare a fire
All of sweet wood for my sweet boy; a fire!
A Room in Rufaldo's House .
Enter BUBULCUS .
Bub. If I were a woman, now could I fall in love with myself: every body tells me I am the properest gentleman in the town, and I put it up; for the truth is, I dare not give any one the lie. A pox o' fighting! I can look as big as another, but shall I be such an ass, to venture myself with beasts? for they say your swords most commonly are foxes, and have notable metal in them. — Let me see, I am now at Rufaldo's, my father-in-law that must be; here he is —
Enter RUFALDO youthfully apparelled .
Master Rufaldo, if you had been mine own father, as you are but like to be my father-in-law, I should have proved myself a fool; by this hand, I should not have known you: why, how brisk, and neat, and youthful he is!
Ruf. I am something altered, I confess, since I saw you.
Bub. By this flesh that shines, a man would not take you to be above five or six and thirty at most; how came this?
Ruf. Just as Gasparo told me! 'tis apparent. Nay, nay, son, forbear to be inquisitive: I confess I am abated of my age; — the power of love, and so forth — but I see your fire of love is not out too.
Bub. No, mine was but raked up in the embers.
Ruf. Why, this love does make us all ingenious too; come, sit down. — [ places a cushion under him .] — Saving your tail, sir, a cushion; we may discourse with the more ease.
Bub. Pray, how does my sweetheart, mistress Hilaria?
Ruf. She is very well. — Ha, son, I am in love too; son I call you. I hope you will get my daughter's good will; but you'll find her peevish.
Bub. No matter, sir, for that; I would not have her easily; I would sweat for her: I warrant I'll make her love me.
Guf. Look you, can you read. — [ Gives Bub. a paper .] — I made a ditty to send my mistress, and my musician, that I keep in my house to teach my daughter, hath set it to a very good air, he tells me: you shall hear and judge of it; I hear him tuning his instrument.
Musician sings within .
God of war, to Cupid yield,
He is master of the field;
He with arrow hits the heart,
Thou with lance the worser part.
Cupid greater is than Jove,
Since he wounded was with love;
Nay, in power, by much odds,
He excels the other gods.
Love transform'd Jove to a swan,
Made Ulysses a mad-man,
But Rufaldo it does make.
Young, for his Selina's sake.
Ruf. How do you relish it, ha?
Bub. In troth the ditty is as pretty an air as e'er I saw; 'tis divided into three regions, too; I warrant you can make ballads easily?
Ruf. Oh fie! they are barbarous and ignoble; that's beggarly.
Bub. But for all that, I have read good stuff sometimes, especially in your fighting ballads: When cannons are roaring, and bullets are flying, &c .
Ruf. Fie! whipping-post, tinkerly stuff! How did you like the air?
Bub. As sweet an air as a man would wish to live in; but 'tis somewhat backward.
Ruf. [sings.] Oh music, the life of the soul!
Bub. I should have learn'd music once too, but my master had so many crotchets, I could ne'er away with it. But where is your daughter, sir? there is no music without her; she is the best instrument to play upon.
Ruf. And you shall have her between your legs presently.
Bub. I had as lief be betwixt her's, for all that.
Ruf. Hilaria! where is this girl? I'll fetch her to you, and leave her with you, for I have a love of mine own, to whom I mean in person to present this ditty. I'll fetch her.
Bub. I do not see what fault she can find with me; and if I had some good word to come over her: — but I must help it out, an need be, with swearing. But here she is.
Re-enter RUFALDO with HILARIA ; ANTONIO following at a distance ,
Ruf. Still Antonio with you? you are a foolish girl: do I take care to provide a husband for you, and will you cast away yourself upon a prodigal? But that I would not discontent his sister, whom I hope to make my wife, I would forbid him my house; therefore be wise, and take heed of him, he's giddy-headed, and loose-bodied. The bee may buz, but he will leave a sting: plant your love there, — [ pointing to Bubulcus .] — upon my blessing; he hath many lordships.
Hil. Pray heaven he have good manners.
Ruf. I have set open the gate of opportunity; Cupid speed us both!
Bub. Let me alone to enter my man, now the point is open. — Hum! [ sees Antonio .] — Stay, there's a man in her tables more than I looked for: sfoot, he kisses her! I'll call Rufaldo back. — [ goes to the side of the stage .] — He's out of sight; it were but a cowardly trick for me to run away.
Ant. The bee may buzz! — now the sting of conscience eat up his gut, fry his suet, and leave him at his death not able to weigh down a pound of candle.
Bub. He talks of suet; I do melt already.
Hil. Look, do you see that man of clothes? — [ pointing to Bubulcus .] — upon my father's blessing, he must be my husband. What will you do?
Ant. Fight with him; his clothes are too big for him; I'll beat him till he swell to them.
Hil. No, as you love me, do not strike him.
Bub. [ side .] — I will set a good face [on't], whatsoever come. — Hilaria, how does my love? come, kiss: [ kisses her .] — why, so! this comes of valour. We fall to, and he falls off; he's some coward, I hope. — And how dost, Hilaria? 'tis an age since I saw thee: what springal is that? ha!
Hil. One that desires to be of your acquaintance, sir.
Bub. My acquaintance! Who is he? none but knights, and knights fellows, are of my acquaintance. I scorn gentlemen.
Hil. But, for my sake, pray be acquainted with him.
Bub. Thou shalt do much with me. — Sir, I am content, for her sake whom I love, to be acquainted with you: Wilt borrow any money? for so do all that begin their acquaintance with me; 'tis the fashion. — He is a coward, is he not? — [ to Selina .] — Here: — [ offers Antonio money .] — Nay, an you scorn my money, I scorn your acquaintance.
Hil. Pray, for my sake.
Bub. Why, he will borrow no money of me; I had never such a trick put upon me, since I knew what acquaintance was: I am sure there have been forty acquainted with me, since I came to town, and not one had so little breeding, to let me ask them the question. We could no sooner shake [one] hand, but the other was in my pocket: it may be 'tis his modesty. — Sir, this is my love, Hilaria, and if you will not borrow money of me, by this hand, there lies my sword, — [ throws down his sword .] — he is a coward?
Hil. It appears.
Bub. Hilaria is my mistress, and if any man dare be so venturous as to blast her reputation with a foul breath, he shall breathe his last.
Hil. 'Tis very sure; he shall not be immortal.
Bub. Or, if you shall offer in my presence, to defile her lip, or touch her hand, or kiss but the nether part of her vesture, you had better kiss her in another place; nay, do but blow on her — —
His. You forget yourself; this is my friend.
Bub. Or wink at her, or speak to her, or make signs, or think on her to my face, you had better keep your thoughts to yourself: — now, to conclude, and if you be aggrieved, my name is Bubulcus, and you lie.
Ant. And you lie — there on the ground. — [ throws him down .] — Why should I not knock his brains out with his own hilts, or stake him to the ground, like a man that had hang'd himself? — Sirrah clothes, rat of Nilus' fiction, monster, golden calf: oh! I could kick thee till thou hast no more brains than thy cousin woodcock! I will not dishonour myself to kill thee; half a dozen kicks will be as good as a house of correction. — Out, you monkey!
Bub. [ rises .] — Oh, that I could run thee thorough body and soul! I will challenge thee: a pox on your toes! would I had the paring of your nails! Were you dumb so long for this?
Ant. Hence!
Bub. Who look'd for you? when will you be here again? Look for a challenge; the time may come, when I will beat thee.
Ant. Has thy father left a multitude of men to make choice of this piece of folly to be thy husband! Oh, the blindness of a covetous, wretched father, that is led only by the ears, and in love with sounds! Nature had done well to have thrust him into the world without an eye, that, like a mole, is so affected to base earth, and there means to dig for Paradise: but come, Hilaria;
Fathers their children and themselves abuse,
That wealth a husband for their daughter choose.
SCENE II.
A Room in Cornelio's House .
Enter CORNELIO , RUFALDO , and SELINA .
Cor. I did not think, Rufaldo, pardon me,
You could have so prevail'd; but if she can
Plant her affection on you, I'll not be
Backward to call you son.
Sel. He does appear
With all the charms of love upon his eye,
And not rough drawn, but polish'd; he assumes
A power 'bove all resistance.
Cor. An old man's darling, is a petty queen,
Above all her desires.
Ruf. Nay, she shall want nothing my wealth can purchase. — O my sweet Selina!
Cor. Rufaldo, with your patience, I would have
A word or two in private; you need not
Prejudicate me.
Ruf. With all my heart.
Cor. Selina,
Thou know'st I am thy father.
Sel. My duty, sir, shall speak it.
Cor. And you know
Whom you have rejected.
Sel. Young Infortunio.
Cor. And you know what man
He is with whom you mean to tie that knot
Nothing but death is able to undo.
Sel. Rufaldo, sir; an old man.
Cor. Oh, Selina!
Felice, thy poor sister, thou recall'st
To sad remembrance; but heaven, alas!
Knows only where she is.
Sel. Sir, I have often heard you talk of her,
But never knew that sister well.
Cor. Thou, with thy uncle's tenderness, wast kept
Always in the country, not, until her loss,
At home with me: her fate taught me to give
A liberty to thee, her I restrain'd,
Poor wench, in love with Gasparo; till, betwixt
Obedience to a father, and the love
To him, she left us both, father and friend.
Now, to avoid the like affliction,
I vow'd thy freedom; and thou see'st I do not
Encounter thy affection with the bonds
A father might enforce upon his child.
Sel. I humbly thank you, [sir.]
Cor. But yet, Selina,
Take heed, be not too rash; I have observ'd
You want no common judgment, O, do not
Precipitate thyself into a sorrow
Shall waste thee with repentance; let me tell you,
There is a method, when your passion's young,
To keep it in obedience: you love Rufaldo!
Art thou not young? How will the rose agree
With a dead hyacinth? or the honey wood-bind,
Circling a withered briar? —
You can apply. Can you submit your body
To bed with ice and snow, your blood to mingle?
Would you be deaf'd with coughing, teach your eye
How to be rheumatic? Breathes he not out
His body in diseases, and, like dust,
Falling all into pieces, as if nature
Would make him his own grave. I say too much.
O, what are all the riches of the world
To an oppressed mind, which then must be
Fed with despair of change? or will [his] gold
Buy off th' imprisonment? Nay, will it not
Compose the chains, that bind you to endure it?
Well, I have said enough, keep still your freedom —
And lose it where you will, you shall not blame
Me for your fate, nor grieve me with your shame.
Sel. Dear father, low as earth I tender you
The duty of a daughter; I have heard you
Not with a careless ear. That liberty
You have bestow'd on me, for which I owe
All that I am, doth make me confident
You will not be offended, if I tell you
My love is virtuous; were it otherwise,
I should elect, as you premonish, youth
And prodigal blood. And, father, I think here
I shew myself your daughter, nor am I
Without good precedent too: how many fine.
Young, noble ladies, in this fairy isle,
Have match'd with reverend age? and live as they
Were born from nature's purity, free from stain
Of sensual imputation; by their loves,
Deriving heavenly honours to themselves
'Bove merit of equality.
Cor. No more. Heaven's blessing
And mine light on thee: thou shalt have Rufaldo.
Sel. I would not leave Rufaldo for a world
Of rash untemperate youth, believe it, sir.
Cor. Rufaldo, heard you that? She says she would
Not leave you for a world of other men.
Ruf. Nor I, for a thousand worlds, forsake my love. —
Come seal it with a kiss, another! another! another!
Cor. As close as cockles!
Ruf. Oh, that we were married!
'Tis death to stay the ceremonies; would
We were abed together!
Cor. 'Twere time, I see, we were at conference,
To confirm all things for the marriage.
You being agreed, I think we shall not differ
In other circumstance, and 'twere sin to let
That keep your joys asunder by delay.
Please you, we'll have some treaties.
Ruf. Most willingly. — O my bird, my chick, my dove, my America, my new-found world! I shall shortly run back into one-and-twenty again.
Sel. With what agility he moves himself,
As he were made of air! Let weakness tax
Our inequality, I have a mind
Can easily contemn what the world's malice,
Out of its own first guiltiness, can throw
Upon our loves: it shall be enough for me
Thus to convince the world of so much baseness,
Lodg'd in luxurious thoughts, by my chaste life.
Rufaldo, thou art mine, all time, methinks,
Is slow, till we be actually possest
Of mutual enjoying. — Stay, who's this?
Enter JENKIN , and his page JOCARELLO .
The Welshman that delivers his affection
At second hand, to me.
Jen. Look you, pages, where our sweehearts and pigsnies be, and could her tell what to say to her now, know her heart very well, but pogs upon her, cannot aule her knowledge speak rhetorics, and oratories, and fine words to her? Look you knaw, better to fight, and cut doublets with her Welsh glaves, mark you.
Joc. Sir, will you lose this opportunity? you'll curse yourself in Welsh, two or three days together for't.
Jen. Sentlewoman, if her knaw not her name, was Jenken, born in Wales, came of pig houses, and Brittish bloods, was have great hills and mountains aule her own, when was get 'em again, any
Your face, the fall of others, or, unpitied
Of heaven and earth, die loathsome! I could curse.
Jen. Her can curse, and swear too, look you now.
Infor. Pardon, divinest sex, passions do force
My reason from me,
I do submit, crave pardon, as your creature.
Jen. Nay, an her crave pardon, and make submissions, Jenkin was put up awl her angers and indignations. Farewell.
Infor. Oh, Selina!
Thou art too much an adamant
To draw my soul unto thee; either be
Softer, or less attractive: but Rufaldo! —
'Tis depth of witchcraft; oh! I could be mad,
Beyond all patience mad; it is some malice"
Hath laid this poison on her.
Enter Gorgon with a Letter .
Gor. Here's Infortunio. Alas, poor gentleman! Little does he think what black and white is here; a bitter handful of commendations to him. My young mistress is mad of the old coxcomb, and will marry him almost without asking. I cannot tell, but if she do not cuckold him, and make him cry corns on his toes! ere he die, he has fool's fortune; for a wise man would be out of hope to avoid it.
He spies me.
Infor. Whither running, Gorgon?
Gor. Not out of my wit, sir; I have a letter from my young mistress Selina must, in all haste, have cleanly conveyance to old Rufaldo.
Infor. Let me but see the directions.
To my beloved friend, master Rufaldo: — 'tis a lie; she was mistaken; it was I should owe' this appellation. I'll not believe the superscription; 'tis a painted face, I'll see the heart on't.
Gor. I hope, sir, you will not throw open the sheet, and discover my mistress's secrets? — How he stares!
Infor. [reads.] If you love me, and wish me constant, be your own friend, and let our marriage day begin with the next morning; thine , Selina.
Oh! she's mad.
All womankind is mad; and I am mad.
Whom shall I rend in pieces for my wrongs?
And as with atoms fill this poison'd air?
Rufaldo!
Stay, is not she a creature rational?
Oh no, there is no spark of nature in her;
All is sunk, lost for ever: stay, stay; see.
Gor. He has made a tailor's bill on't, torn't in pieces ere it be discharg'd. What shall I do?
Infor. This is Medea's brother, torn in pieces,
And this the way where she with Jason flies
From Colchis, come not near them; see, [see]; look!
That's an arm rent off.
Gor. This?
Infor. And the hand beckons us
To cry out murder.
Gor. I'll but hold it by the hand.
Infor. That's a leg of the boy.
Gor. This, sir, a leg? it shall go with me, then.
Infor. There, there 'tis, head and yellow curled locks,
His eyes are full of tears; now they do stare,
To see where all his other members lie.
Gor. So! I have all his quarters, I'll presently, sir, get poles for them, and hang them upon the gates in their postures for you.
Infor. But she and Jason are both shipp'd, and Argo
Is sailing home to Greece. See how the waves
Do toss the vessel, and the winds conspire
To dash it 'gainst a rock! it rides upon
A watery mountain, and is hid in clouds;
It cannot stay there: now, now, [now] it tumbles
Three fathom beneath hell! let them [e'en] go.
Here comes the father of Medea now,
Calling in vain unto the gods, and spies
His son's limbs thrown about, instead of flowers,
To his daughter's nuptials; he does take them up;
He knows the face, and now he tears his hair,
And raves, and cries, Medea! Poor old man!
Command a funeral pile for the young child,
And lay the pretty limbs on 't, from whose ashes
Shalt have another son in the shape of Phaenix. —
Shall I? — O, excellent! Prepare a fire
All of sweet wood for my sweet boy; a fire!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.