Mart. Come, come, to the point. Due to a ravisher of sober truth, Just in the wenches' trim and garb: these prayers Lev. Sir, alas! [Weeps. Would all their spite could harry1 my contents Mart. There is; but first Sit in commission on your own defects, Of my vexation. Lev. All the short remains Of undesired life shall only speak The extremity of penance; your opinion Mart. Enough; thy tears prevail Lev. My miseries, As in a glass, present me the rent face Of an unguided youth. Mart. No more. Enter TRELCATIO with an open letter. Trelcatio! Some business speeds you hither. Trel. Happy news Signor Martino, pray your ear; my nephew, 1 Could harry my contents,] i. e. worry, torment, drive by violence, &c.-GIFFORD. Let's be exceeding private-is return'd High in the duke of Florence's respects; "T is said, but make no words-that he has firk'd And mumbled the rogue Turks. Mart. Why would you have His merits so unknown? Trel. I am not yet Confirm'd at full-withdraw, All what this paper talks. Mart. So!-Levidolche, and you shall read You know our mind, be cheerful.-Come, Trelca tio, Causes of joy or grief do seldom happen [Exeunt MART. and TREL. Lev. Even so, wise uncle! much good do ye.Discover'd! I could fly out, mix vengeance with my love— My hot in blood, rare lord, grows cold too! well, SCENE III. An Apartment in ADURNI's House. Enter PIERO, AMORETTA, FUTELLI, and CASTANNA. Piero. In the next gallery you may behold Such living pictures, lady, such rich pieces, Of kings, and queens, and princes, that you'd think They breathe and smile upon you. Amor. Ha they crownths, Great crownths oth gold upon their headths? Drawn all in state. Amor. How many horthes, pray, Are ith their chariots? Piero. Sixteen, some twenty. Cast. My sister! wherefore left we her alone? Where stays she, gentlemen? Fut. Viewing the rooms; 'Tis like you'll meet her in the gallery: This house is full of curiosities, Most fit for ladies' sights. Amor. Yeth, yeth, the thight Of printhethes ith a fine thight. Piero. Sweet ladies, this way; see the doors sure. Fut. Doubt not. [Aside to FUT. [Exeunt. SCENE IV. Another Room in the same.-A Banquet set out. Enter ADURNI and SPINELLA.-A Song within. Place and privacy invite. Do, do! be kind as fair. Lose not opportunity for air. Adur. Plead not, fair creature, without sense of pity, So incompassionately 'gainst a service, In nothing faulty more than pure obedience: The tyranny of thoughts, consider mine, In some proportion, by the strength of yours; My lord, to apparel folly in the weed Of costly colours; henceforth cast off far, Reproof drops from that balmy spring your breath! Which traffics richest clothes and silks, would you Vouchsafe one unspleen'd chiding to my riot: Suspicion of returns to my devotion, In mercenary blessings; for that saint Spin. Auria, Auria, Fight not for name abroad; but come, my hus band, Fight for thy wife at home! Adur. Oh, never rank, Dear cruelty, one that is sworn your creature, Among your country's enemies; I use No force, but humble words, deliver'd from A tongue that's secretary to my heart. Spin. How poorly some, tame to their wild de sires, Fawn on abuse of virtue! pray, my lord, Make not your house my prison. Adur. Grant a freedom To him who is the bondman to your beauty. [A noise within, and the door is forced. Enter AURELIO, followed by CASTANNA, AMORETTA, FUTELLI and PIERO. Aurel. Keep back, ye close contrivers of false pleasures, Or I shall force ye back.-Can it be possible? Adur. What sees this rudeness Oh, woman, lost to every brave report, Spin. Whiles you, belike, Are furnished with some news for entertainment, Which must become your friendship, to be knit More fast betwixt your souls, by my removal, Both from his heart and memory! Adur. Rich conquest, To triumph on a lady's injured fame, Fut. Have I life, sir? Faith? Christianity? Piero. Put me on the rack, The wheel, or the galleys, if Aurel. Peace, factors In merchandise of scorn! your sounds are deadly. Castanna, I could pity your consent To such ignoble practice: but I find Coarse fortunes easily seduced, and herein All claim to goodness ceases. Cast. Use your tyranny. Spin. What rests behind for me? out with it! Becoming such a forfeit of obedience; Hope not that any falsity in friendship Can palliate a broken faith, it dares not. |