And best of men; so excellent a man Mal. Yet put case, sweet cousin, That I could name a creature, whose affection Spin. Fortune's minions Are flatter'd, not the miserable. To a strange tale, which thus the author sigh'd. Her father's sister's son, some time before Of what his vain supposal styled his own; Of conscience, by the nearness of their bloods- Had any friend's advice resolv'd the doubt. Still on he loved, and loved, and wish'd, and wish'd; Eftsoon began to speak, yet soon broke off, And still the fondling durst not,-'cause he durst not. Spin. 'T was wonderful. Mal. Exceeding wonderful. Beyond all wonder; yet 't is known for truth, His reason then,-now,-then-could not reduce VOL. II.-6 Spin. An understanding dull'd by the infelicity Of constant sorrow, is not apprehensive In pregnant novelty; my ears receive The words you utter, cousin, but my thoughts Mal. Can you Embrace, so like a darling, your own woes, To stand up in defence of injur'd virtue; As you're a gentleman Mal. I'll bless that hand, Whose honourable pity seals the passport By noble love made jealous of her fame. Henceforth shall never syllable proceed Enter CASTANNA. Cast. Your summons warn'd me hither; I am come. Sister! my sister, 't was an unkind part, Not to take me along wi' you. Mal. Chide her for it; Castanna, this house is as freely yours As ever was your father's. Cast. We conceive so, Though your late strangeness hath bred marvel in us. But wherefore, sister, keeps your silence distance? Am I not welcome to you? Spin. Lives Auria safe? Oh, prithee do not hear me call him husband, Cast. Now in truth Spin. Hold! my heart trembles-I perceive thy tongue Is great with ills, and hastes to be deliver'd; Cast. In perfect health. Spin. For that, my thanks to Heaven. Mal. The world hath not another wife like this. Cousin, you will not hear your sister speak, So much your passion rules. Spin. Even what she pleases: Go on, Castanna. Cast. Your most noble husband Is deaf to all reports, and only grieves At his soul's love, Spinella's, causeless absence. Spin. Indeed! Cast. Will value No counsel, takes no pleasure in his greatness, That you are living: if you were, he's certain It were impossible you could conceal Your welcomes to him, being all one with him; Spin. Does he! Mal. Therein He shows himself desertful of his happiness. Cast. Methinks the news should cause some mo tion, sister You are not well. Mal. Not well! Spin. I am unworthy Mal. Of whom? what? why? Spin. Go, cousin;-come, Castanna. SCENE II. [Exeunt. An Apartment in the House of TRELCATIO. Enter TRELCATIO, PIERO, and FUTELLI. Trel. The state in council is already set, My coming will be late; now, therefore, gentlemen, This house is free; as your intents are sober, Your pains shall be accepted. Fut. Mirth sometimes Falls into earnest, signor. Piero. We, for our parts, Aim at the best. Trel. You wrong yourselves and me else: Good success to you! [Exit. Piero, Futelli, 't is our wisest course to follow Our pastime with discretion, by which means We may ingratiate, as our business hits, Our undertakings to great Auria's favour. Fut. I grow quite weary of this lazy custom, Attending on the fruitless hopes of service, For meat and rags: a wit? a shrewd preferment! Study some scurril jests, grow old, and beg! No, let them be admired that love foul linen; I'll run a new course. Piero. Get the coin we spend, And knock them o'er the pate who jeer our earnings. Fut. Hush, man; one suitor comes. Piero. The t' other follows. Fut. Be not so loud [Music below. Here comes Madonna Sweet-lips; Mithtreth, in thooth, forthooth, will lithp it to uth. Enter AMOREtta. Amor. Dentlemen, then ye!! Ith thith muthick yourth, or can ye tell what great manth's fidleth make it? tith vedee pretty noyth, but who thould thend it? Piero. Does not yourself know, lady? To thpend lip-labour upon quethtionths,. SONG below. What, ho! we come to be merry, As long as we have e'er an eye to see. Piero. What call ye this, a song? Amor. Yeth, a delithious thing, and wondrouth prety. Fut. A very country-catch!-[Aside.]—Doubtless, some prince Belike hath sent it to congratulate Your night's repose. Amor. Think ye tho, thignor? Fut. This gentleman approaching comes in time T' inform ye. Enter FULGOSO. Amor. Think ye tho? I'm thure you know him. 1 Dentlemen, then ye!] i. e. den ye! good even! The reader would scarcely thank me for putting the rest of the pretty lispings of this afffected fair one into articulate language.-GIFFORD. |