Her sickness is a fulness of her blood-
You understand me?

Flo. I do; you counsel well;

And once, within these few days, will so order it,
She shall be married ere she know the time.
Rich. Yet let not haste, sir, make unworthy
choice;

That were dishonour.

Flo. Master doctor, no;

I will not do so neither: in plain words,
My Lord Soranzo is the man I mean.

Rich. A noble and a virtuous gentleman.
Flo. As any is in Parma: not far hence,
Dwells Father Bonaventure, a grave friar,
Once tutor to my son; now at his cell
I'll have them married.

Rich. You have plotted wisely.

Flo. I'll send one straight to speak with him to-night.

Rich. Soranzo's wise; he will delay no time. Flo. It shall be so.

Enter FRIAR and GIOVANNI.

Friar. Good peace be here, and love!

Flo. Welcome, religious friar; you are one That still bring blessing to the place you come to. Gio. Sir, with what speed I could, I did my` best To draw this holy man from forth his cell, To visit my sick sister; that with words Of ghostly comfort, in this time of need, He might absolve her, whether she live or die.

Flo. 'Twas well done, Giovanni; thou herein Hast show'd a Christian's care, a brother's love: Come, father, I'll conduct you to her chamber, And one thing would entreat you.

Friar. Say on, sir.

Flo. I have a father's dear impression, And wish, before I fall into my grave, That I might see her married, as 'tis fit;

A word from you, grave man, will win her more Than all our best persuasions.

Friar. Gentle sir,

All this I'll say, that Heaven may prosper her.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

A Room in RICHARDETTO's House.

Enter GRIMALDI.

Grim. Now if the doctor keep his word, So

ranzo,

Twenty to one you miss your bride. I know
'Tis an unnoble act, and not becomes

A soldier's valour; but in terms of love,
Where merit cannot sway, policy must:
I am resolv'd, if this physician

Play not on both hands, then Soranzo falls.

Enter RICHARDETTO.

Rich. You are come as I could wish; this very

night

Soranzo, 'tis ordain'd, must be affied

To Annabella, and, for aught I know,
Married.

Grim. How!

Rich. Yet your patience;

The place, 'tis friar Bonaventure's cell.
Now I would wish you to bestow this night
In watching thereabouts; 'tis but a night:-
If you miss now, to-morrow I'll know all.
Grim. Have you the poison?

Rich. Here 'tis, in this box;

Doubt nothing, this will do't; in any case,
As you respect your life, be quick and sure.
Grim. I'll speed him.

Rich. Do.--Away; for 'tis not safe

You should be seen much here,-ever my love! Grim. And mine to you.

[Exit. Rich. So if this hit, I'll laugh and hug re

venge;

And they that now dream of a wedding-feast, May chance to mourn the lusty bridegroom's ruin: But to my other business-niece Philotis !

Phi. Uncle.

Enter PHILOTIS.

Rich. My lovely niece,

You have bethought you ?

Phi. Yes,—and, as you counsell'd,

Fashion'd my

heart to love him; but he swears He will to-night be married; for he fears His uncle else, if he should know the drift, Will hinder all, and call his coz to shrift.

Rich. To-night? why best of all; but let me see, I-ha!—yes, so it shall be; in disguise

We'll early to the friar's-I have thought on't.
Phi. Uncle, he comes.

Enter BERGETTO and POGGIO.

Rich. Welcome, my worthy coz.

Ber. Lass, pretty lass, come buss, lass! A-ha,

Poggio!

Rich. There's hope of this yet."

[Kisses her. [Aside.

You shall have time enough; withdraw a little, We must confer at large.

Ber. Have you not sweetmeats, or dainty devices for me?

Phi. You shall [have] enough, sweetheart.

Ber. Sweetheart! mark that, Poggio. By my troth I cannot choose but kiss thee once more for that word, sweetheart. Poggio, I have a monstrous swelling about my stomach, whatsoever the matter be.

Pog. You shall have physic for't, sir.
Rich. Time runs apace.

Ber. Time's a blockhead.

Rich. Be ruled; when we have done what's fit

to do,

Then you may kiss your fill, and bed her too.

[Exeunt.

9 There's hope of this yet.] The 4to erroneously gives this hemistich to Philotis. If it be not a side-speech of the uncle, it must be considered as a continuation of poor Poggio's rapture at the condescension of his mistress.

SCENE VI.

FLORIO'S House.

ANNABELLA's Chamber. A Table with Wax Lights; ANNABELLA at Confession before the FRIAR; she weeps and wrings her hands.

Friar. I am glad to see this penance; for, be

lieve me,

You have unripp'd a soul so foul and guilty,
As I must tell you true, I marvel how

The earth hath borne you up; but weep, weep on,
These tears may do you good; weep faster yet,
Whilst I do read a lecture.

Ann. Wretched creature!

Friar. Ay, you are wretched, miserably wretch

ed,

Almost condemn'd alive. There is a place,
List, daughter! in a black and hollow vault,
Where day is never seen; there shines no sun,
But flaming horror of consuming fires,

A lightless sulphur, choak'd with smoky fogs
Of an infected darkness: in this place
Dwell many thousand thousand sundry sorts
Of never-dying deaths: there damned souls
Roar without pity; there are gluttons fed
With toads and adders; there is burning oil
Pour'd down the drunkard's throat; the usurer
Is forced to sup whole draughts of molten gold;
There is the murderer for ever stabb'd,

Yet can he never die; there lies the wanton