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SCENEʻII.

A Room in the House of MARTINO.

Enter MARTINO and LEVIDOLCHE.
Mart. You cannot answer what a general tongue
Objects against your folly; I may curse
The interest you lay claim to in my blood.
Your mother, my dear niece, did die, I thought,
Too soon, but she is happy; had she lived
Till now, and known the vanities your life
Hath dealt in, she had wish'd herself a grave
Before a timely hour.

Lev. Sir, consider
My sex; were I mankind,' my sword should quit
A wounded honour, and reprieve a name
From injury, by printing on their bosoms
Some deadly character, whose drunken surfeits
Put forth such base aspersions: as I am,
Scorn and contempt is virtue: my desert
Stands far above their malice.

Mart. Levidolche,
Hypocrisy puts on a holy robe,
Yet never changeth nature; call to mind
How, in your girl's days, you fell, forsooth,
In love, and married,-married (hark ye !) whom?
A trencher-waiter; shrewd preferment! but
Your childhood then excused that fault.

Lev. Pray let not me be bandied, sir and baffled, By your intelligence.

Mart. So touch'd to the quick!
Fine mistress, I will then rip up at length
The progress of your infamy: in colour
Of disagreement, you must be divorced;
Were so, and I must countenance the reasons;

1 1. e. masculine, mannish. The expression oocurs continually in our old dramatists.

On better hopes I did, nay, took you home,
Provided you my care, nay, justified
Your alteration; joy'd to entertain
Such visitants of worth and rank as tender'd
Civil respects: but then, even then-

Lev. What then?
Sweet uncle, do not spare :-whose strumpet am I?
For that's your plainest meaning.

Mart. Were you modest,
The word you utter'd last would force a blush.
Adurni is a bounteous lord, 't is said;
He parts with gold and jewels like a free
And liberal purchaser! he wriggles in
To ladies' pleasures by a right of pension:
But you know none of this ! you are grown a tavern-

talk,
Matters for fiddlers’ songs. I toil to build
The credit of my family, and you
To pluck up the foundation: even this morning,
Before the common-council, young Malfato-
(Convented for some lands he held, supposed
Belong’d to certain orphans)-as I question'd
His tenure in particulars, he answer'd,
My worship needed not to flaw his right;
For if the humour held him, he could make
A jointure to my over-loving niece,
Without oppression; bade me tell her too,
She was a kind young soul, and might in time
Be sued to by a loving man; no doubt,
Here was a jolly breakfast!

Lev. Uncles are privileged
More than our parents; some wise man in state
Hath rectified, no doubt, your knowledge, sir.
While all the policy for public business
Was spent,-for want of matter, I by chance
Fell into grave discourse; but, by your leave,
I from a stranger's table rather wish
To earn my bread, than from a friend's by gift,
Be daily subject to unfit reproofs.

VOL. II.-4

Mart. Come, come, to the point.

Lev. All the curses
Due to a ravisher of sober truth,
Dam up their graceless mouths !

Mart. Now you turn rampant,
Just in the wenches' trim and garb: these prayers
Speak your devotions purely.
Lev. Sir, alas !

[Weeps.
What would you have me do? I have no orators,
More than my tears, to plead my innocence,
Since you forsake me, and are pleas'd to lend
An open ear against my honest fame.
Would all their spite could harryl my contents
Unto a desperate ruin! Oh, dear goodness!
There is a right for wrongs.

Mart. There is; but first
Sit in commission on your own defects,
Accuse yourself; be your own jury, judge,
And executioner; I make no sport
Of_my vexation.

Lev. All the short remains
Of undesired life shall only speak
The extremity of penance; your opinion
Enjoins it too.

Mart. Enough; thy tears prevail
Against credulity.

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,
Auria, hath done brave service: and I hear-

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;
'Tis 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, and you shall read All what this paper talks.

Mart. So ! -Levidolche,
You know our mind, be cheerful.-Come, Trelca-

tio,
Causes of joy or grief do seldom happen
Without companions near; thy resolutions
Have given another birth to my contents.

[Exeunt Mart. and TREL. Lev. Even so, wise uncle! much good do ye.

Discover'd! I could fly out, mix vengeance with my loveUnworthy man, Malfato !-my good lord, My hot in blood, rare lord, grows cold too! well, Rise dotage into rage, and sleep no longer; Affection turn’d to hatred threatens mischief. (Exit.

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 king

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 ?

Piero. Pure gold;
Drawn all in state.

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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.

Cast. Good, let us find her.
Piero. Sweet ladies, this way; see the doors sure.

[Aside to Fut. Fut. Doubt not.

(Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Another Room in the same.--A Banquet set out.
Enter ADURNI and SPINELLA.-A Song within.

Pleasures, beauty, youth attend ye,
While the

spring,

of nature lasteth; Love and melting thoughts [befriend] ye, Use the time, ere winter hasteth. ,

Active blood, and free delight,

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:
My honours and my fortunes are led captives
In triumph, by your all-commanding beauty;
And if you ever felt the power of love,
The rigour of an uncontrolled passion,

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