Ves." She had seen the fellow!" didst opserve? Cam. Most punctually :

Could call him by his name too! why 't is possible, She has not yet forgot he was her husband.

Ves. That were most strange: oh, 't is a precious trinket!

Was ever puppet so slipp'd up?

Cam. The tale

Of Venus' cat, man, changed into a woman,
Was emblem but to this. She turns.

Ves. He stands

Just like Acteon in the painted cloth.1

Cam. No more.

Flav. Friend, we have read, and weigh'd the sum Of what your scrivener (which, in effect,

Is meant your counsel learned) has drawn for ye:
"T is a fair hand, in sooth, but the contents
Somewhat unseasonable; for, let us tell ye,
You have been a spender, a vain spender; wasted
Your stock of credit and of wares unthriftily.
You are a faulty man; and should we urge
Our lord as often for supplies, as shame

Or wants drive you to ask, it might be construed
An impudence, which we defy; an impudence,
Base in base women, but in noble sinful.
Are you not ashamed yet of yourself?

Fab. Great lady,

Of my misfortunes I'm ashamed.

Cam. So, so!

This jeer twangs roundly, does it not, Vespucci ?

Ves. Why, here's a lady worshipful!

Flav. Pray, gentlemen,

[Aside to VES.

Retire a while; this fellow shall resolve

Some doubts that stick about me.

1 He stands

Just like Acteon in the painted cloth,] i. e. in the act of gazing at Diana, in a posture of mingled awe and surprise. There is some humour in the expression.--GIFFORD.

[Exeunt VES. and CAM.

Both. As you please.

Flav. To thee, Fabricio,-oh, the change is

cruel

Since I find some small leisure, I must justify
Thou art unworthy of the name of man.
Those holy vows, which we, by bonds of faith,
Recorded in the register of truth,

Were kept by me unbroken; no assaults

Of gifts, of courtship, from the great and wanton,
No threats, nor sense of poverty, to which
Thy riots had betray'd me, could betray
My warrantable thoughts to impure folly.
Why wouldst thou force me miserable?
Fab. The scorn

Of rumour is reward enough, to brand

My lewder actions; 't was, I thought, impossible, A beauty fresh as was your youth, could brook The last of my decays.

Flav. Did I complain?

My sleeps between thine arms were e'en as sound,
My dreams as harmless, my contents as free,
As when the best of plenty crown'd our bride-bed.
Among some of a mean, but quiet, fortune,
Distrust of what they call their own, or jealousy
Of those whom in their bosom they possess
Without control, begets a self-unworthiness;
For which through fear, or, what is worse, desire
Of paltry gain, they practise art, and labour

To pander their own wives; those wives, whose innocence,

Stranger to language, spoke obedience only;
And such a wife was Flavia to Fabricio.
Fab. My loss is irrecoverable.

Flav. Call not

Thy wickedness thy loss; without my knowledge Thou sold'st me, and in open court protestedst

A precontract unto another, falsely,

To justify a separation. Wherein

Could I offend, to be believed

In best sense an adulteress ? so conceived
In all opinions, that I am shook off,

Ev'n from mine own blood, which, although I boast Not noble, yet 't was not mean; for Romanello, Mine only brother, shuns me, and abhors

To own me for his sister.

Fab. 'Tis confess'd,

I am the shame of mankind.
Flav. I live happy

In this great lord's love, now; but could his cunning
Have train'd me to dishonour, we had never
Been sunder'd by the temptation of his purchase.
In troth, Fabricio, I am little proud of

My unsought honours, and so far from triumph,
That I am not more fool to such as honour me,
Than to myself, who hate this antic carriage.1
Fab. You are an angel rather to be worshipp'd,
Than grossly to be talk'd with.

Flav. [Gives him money.] Keep those ducats, I shall provide you better:-'t were a bravery, Could you forget the place wherein you've render'd Your name for ever hateful.

Fab. I will do 't,

Do't, excellentest goodness, and conclude

My days in silent sadness.

Flav. You may prosper

In Spain, in France, or elsewhere, as in Italy.
Besides, you are a scholar bred, however

You interrupted study with commérce.

I'll think of your supplies; meantime, pray, storm not

At my behaviour to you; I have forgot

Acquaintance with mine own―keep your first dis

tance.

Camillo! who is near? Vespucci !

1

[He draws back.

-this antic carriage.] This childish and ridiculous affectation of levity; which she assumed, partly to humour the count, but chiefly, as she afterward says, to defeat the "lascivious villanies" of her attendants, Camillo and Vespucci.-GIFFORD.

Jul. What!

Enter JULIO, CAMILLO, and VESPUCCI.

Our lady's last familiar?

Flav. Oh, I am sick, sick, sick

I faint at heart-kiss me, nay, prithee, quickly,

[To JUL.

Or I shall swoon.

You've staid a sweet while

from me.

And this companion too-beshrew him!

Jul. Dearest,

Thou art my health, my blessing:-turn the bankrupt Out of my doors!-sirrah, I'll have thee whipp'd,

If thou com'st here again.

Cam. Hence, hence, you vermin!
Jul. How is 't, my best of joys?

Flav. Prettily mended,

[Exit FAB.

Now we have our own lord here; I shall never
Endure to spare you. long out of my sight.

See, what the thing presented. [Gives him the
Jul. A petition,

Belike, for some new charity?

Flav. We must not

paper.

Be troubled with his needs; a wanting creature

Is monstrous, is as ominous-fy upon't!

Despatch the silly mushroom once for all,

And send him with some pittance out o' the country, Where we may hear no more of him.

Jul. Thy will

Shall stand a law, my matchless pleasure;

No life is sweet without thee: in my heart

Reign empress, and be styled thy Julio's sovereign, My only, precious dear.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

An Apartment in JULIO's House.

Enter VESPUCCI and CAMILLO.

Ves. Come, thou art caught, Camillo.
Cam. Away, away,

That were a jest indeed; I caught?
Ves. The lady

Does scatter glances, wheels her round, and smiles;
Steals an occasion to ask how the minutes

Each hour have run in progress; then thou kissest
All thy four fingers, crouchest and sigh'st faintly,
"Dear beauty, if my watch keep fair decorum,
Three-quarters have near past the figure X;"
Or as the time of day goes-

Cam. So, Vespucci!

This will not do, I read it on thy forehead,
The grain of thy complexion is quite alter'd;
Once 't was a comely brown, 't is now of late
A perfect green and yellow; sure prognosticates
Of th' overflux o' the gall, and melancholy,
Symptoms of love and jealousy.

Ves. She loves thee;

Dotes on thee; in my hearing told her lord
Camillo was the Pyramus and Thisbe

Of courtship, and of compliment :—ah, ah!

She nick'd it there!-I envy not thy fortunes;

For, to say truth, thou 'rt handsome, and deserv'st

her,

Were she as great again as she is.

Cam. I handsome?

Alas, alas, a creature of Heaven's making,

There's all! But, sirrah, prithee, let's be sociable;

I do confess, I think the goody-madam

May possibly be compass'd.

Ves. A pretty toy 'tis.