'Tis Pity She's a Whore

Title Page

TIS

Acted by the Queenes Maieties , at The Phœnix in Drury-Lane.

Printed by Nicholas Okes for Richard Collins, and are to be old at his hop in Pauls Church-yard, at the igne of the three Kings. 1633.

Sources

SOURCES

No perfectly certain source of this play has been discovered. Events in some respects similar to those of the tragedy are said to have taken place in Normandy in 1603. An account of them is given by the chronicler in his Histoire de France et des Choses Memorables … published in Paris, 1606. The story is retold by in Les Histoires Tragiques de Nostre Temps. It is the fifth tale in the second edition, 1615; the seventh in the edition of 1619. Wolff declares outright that Ford took his plot from this source. (See John Forde ein Nachahmer Shakespeare's, page 8). But Koeppel approves Dyce's observation that "though Ford may probably have read it, there are no particular resemblances between it and the play." (See Koeppel's Quellen-Studien, page 180; also, Gifford-Dyce, Introduction, page xxx.)

A great part of the Shakesperean influence which Wolff attempted to trace in this play is purely imaginary. It is not difficult, however, to see a certain general likeness between Friar Bonaventura and Friar Laurence, and—to a less degree—between other characters of Tis Pity and Romeo and Juliet.

As a possible indirect source W. Bang and H. de Vocht suggest the Περί έρωτικων παθημάτων of Parthenios of Nikaia. See Englische Studien, Band 36, pp. 392-93 (1906).

There is a striking parallelism—hitherto, I think, unnoticed—between Annabella, Donado, Bergetto, and Poggio: and Isabella, Guardiano, the Ward, and Sordido in Middleton's Women Beware Women. The resemblance is the more worth noting as the same element of unnatural passion enters into the intrigue of both plays.

In my introduction I have discussed at some length an impressive analogue and possible source of Tis Pity in Speroni's Canace è Macareo.

Dedication

TO THE TRUELY NOBLE,

JOHN

EARLE OF PETERBOROUGH, LORD

Dramatis Personae

The Sceane.

PARMA

THE ACTORS' NAMES.

Bonaventura, a fryar. A Cardinall, nuntio to the Pope. Soranzo, a nobleman. Florio, a cittizen of Parma. Donado, another cittizen. Grimaldi, a Roman gentleman. Giovanni, sonne to Florio. Bergetto, nephew to Donado. Richardetto, a suppos'd phisitian. Vasques, servant to Soranzo. Poggio, servant to Bergetto. Bandetti. Woemen Annabella, daughter to Florio. Hippolita, wife to Richardetto. Philotis, his neece. Putana, tutresse to Annabella. [Officers, Attendants, Servants, &c.]

Act I, Scene I

'Tis Pitty Shee's a Whoore

[ACTUS PRIMUS. SCENA PRIMA.

Friar Bonaventura's cell.]

Enter Fryar and Giovanni.

Fryar. Dispute no more in this; for know, young man, These are no schoole-points; nice philosophy May tolerate unlikely arguments, But heaven admits no jest; wits that presum'd On wit too much,—by striving how to prove >>> There was no God,—with foolish grounds of art Discover'd first the neerest way to hell, And fild the world with develish atheisme: Such questions, youth, are fond; for better 'tis To blesse the sunne then reason why it shines; >>> Yet hee thou talk'st of is above the sun. No more; I may not heare it. Giovanni. Gentle father, To you I have unclasp't my burthened soule, Empty'd the store-house of my thoughts and heart,

Made my selfe poore of secrets; have not left >>> Another word untold, which hath not spoke All what I ever durst or thinke or know; And yet is here the comfort I shall have, Must I not doe what all men else may,—love? Fry. Yes, you may love, faire sonne. Gio. Must I not praise >>> That beauty which, if fram'd a new, the gods Would make a god of, if they had it there, And kneele to it, as I doe kneele to them? Fry. Why, foolish madman,— Gio. Shall a peevish sound, A customary forme, from man to man, >>> Of brother and of sister, be a barre Twixt my perpetuall happinesse and mee? Say that we had one father, say one wombe— Curse to my joyes—gave both us life and birth; Are wee not therefore each to other bound >>> So much the more by nature, by the links Of blood, of reason,—nay, if you will hav't,— Even of religion, to be ever one, One soule, one flesh, one love, one heart, one all? Fry. Have done, unhappy youth, for thou art lost. >>> Gio. Shall, then, for that I am her brother borne, My joyes be ever banisht from her bed?

No, father; in your eyes I see the change Of pitty and compassion; from your age, As from a sacred oracle, distills >>> The life of counsell: tell mee, holy man, What cure shall give me ease in these extreames. Fry. Repentance, sonne, and sorrow for this sinne: For thou hast mov'd a Majesty above With thy un-raunged almost blasphemy. >>> Gio. O, doe not speake of that, deare confessor! Fry. Art thou, my sonne, that miracle of wit Who once, within these three moneths, wert esteem'd A wonder of thine age throughout Bononia? How did the University applaud >>> Thy goverment, behaviour, learning, speech, Sweetnesse, and all that could make up a man! I was proud of my tutellage, and chose Rather to leave my bookes then part with thee; I did so: but the fruites of all my hopes >>> Are lost in thee, as thou art in thy self. O, Giovanni! hast thou left the schooles Of knowledge to converse with lust and death? For death waites on thy lust. Looke through the world, And thou shalt see a thousand faces shine >>> More glorious then this idoll thou ador'st:

Leave her, and take thy choyce, 'tis much lesse sinne; Though in such games as those, they lose that winne. Gio. It were more ease to stop the ocean From floates and ebbs then to disswade my vowes. >>> Fry. Then I have done, and in thy wilfull flames Already see thy ruine; heaven is just, Yet heare my counsell. Gio. As a voyce of life. Fry. Hye to thy fathers house, there locke thee fast Alone within thy chamber, then fall downe >>> On both thy knees, and grovell on the ground: Cry to thy heart, wash every word thou utter'st In teares,—and if't bee possible,—of blood: Begge heaven to cleanse the leprosie of lust That rots thy soule, acknowledge what thou art, >>> A wretch, a worme, a nothing: weepe, sigh, pray Three times a day and three times every night: For seven dayes space doe this; then if thou find'st No change in thy desires, returne to me: I'le thinke on remedy. Pray for thy selfe >>> At home, whil'st I pray for thee here. Away! My blessing with thee. Wee have neede to pray!

Gio. All this I'le doe, to free mee from the rod Of vengeance; else I'le sweare my fate's my god. >>> Exeunt.

Act I, Scene II

[SCENA SECUNDA.

The street before Florio's house.]

Enter Grimaldi and Vasques ready to fight.

Vasques. Come, sir, stand to your tackling; if you prove craven, I'le make you run quickly. Grimaldi. Thou art no equall match for mee. Vas. Indeed, I never went to the warres to bring home newes; nor cannot play the moun- >>> tibanke for a meales meate, and sweare I got my wounds in the field. See you these gray haires? They'le not flinch for a bloody nose. Wilt thou to this geere? Gri. Why, slave, think'st thou I'le ballance >>> my reputation with a cast-suite? Call thy mais- ter; he shall know that I dare— Vas. Scold like a cot-queane,—that's your profession. Thou poore shaddow of a souldier, I will make thee know my maister keepes ser- >>> vants thy betters in quality and performance. Com'st thou to fight or prate? Gri. Neither, with thee; I am a Romane and a gentleman, one that have got mine honour with expence of blood. >>> Vas. You are a lying coward and a foole!

Fight, or, by these hilts, I'le kill thee,—brave my lord!—you'le fight. Gri. Provoake me not, for if thou dost— Vas. Have at you! >>> They fight; Grimal. hath the worst. <> Enter Florio, Donado, Soranzo. Florio. What meaned these sudden broyles so neare my dores? >>> Have you not other places but my house To vent the spleene of your disordered bloods? Must I be haunted still with such unrest As not to eate or sleepe in peace at home? Is this your love, Grimaldi? Fie, 't is naught. >>> Donado. And, Vasques, I may tell thee, 'tis not well To broach these quarrels; you are ever forward In seconding contentions. <> Enter above Annabella and Putana. Flo. What's the ground? Soranzo. That, with your patience, signiors, I'le resolve: This gentleman, whom fame reports a souldier,— >>> For else I know not,—rivals mee in love To Signior Florio's daughter; to whose ears He still preferrs his suite to my disgrace,

Thinking the way to recommend himselfe Is to disparage me in his report: >>> But know, Grimaldi, though, may be, thou art My equall in thy blood, yet this bewrayes A lownesse in thy minde; which, wer't thou noble, Thou would'st as much disdaine as I doe thee For this unworthinesse; and on this ground >>> I will'd my servant to correct his tongue, Holding a man so base no match for me. Vas. And had [not] your sudd[en] comming prevented us, I had let my gentleman blood un- der the gilles; I should have worm'd you, sir, for >>> running madde. Gri. Ile be reveng'd, Soranzo. Vas. On a dish of warme-brothe to stay your stomack—doe, honest innocence, doe! Spone- meat is a wholesomer dyet then a Spannish blade. >>> Gri. Remember this! Sor. I feare thee not, Grimaldi. >>> Ex. Gri. Flo. My Lord Soranzo, this is strange to me, Why you should storme, having my word engag'd; Owing her heart, what neede you doubt her eare? Loosers may talke by law of any game. >>>

Vas. Yet the villaine of words, Signior Florio, may be such as would make any unspleen'd dove chollerick; blame not my lord in this. Flo. Be you more silent; I would not for my wealth, my daughter's love >>> Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood. Vasques, put up: let's end this fray in wine. >>> Exeunt. Putana. How like you this, child? Here's threatning, challenging, quarrelling, and fighting on every side, and all is for your sake; you had >>> neede looke to your selfe, chardge; you'le be stolne away sleeping else shortly. Annabella. But, tutresse, such a life gives no content To me; my thoughts are fixt on other ends. Would you would leave me! >>> Put. Leave you? No marvaile else; leave me no leaving, chardge. This is love outright. In- deede, I blame you not; you have choyce fit for the best lady in Italy. Anna. Pray doe not talke so much. >>> Put. Take the worst with the best, there's Gri- maldi the souldier, a very well-timbred fellow: they say he is a Roman, nephew to the Duke Mount Ferratto; they say he did good service in the warrs against the Millanoys; but, faith, >>> chardge, I do not like him, and be for nothing

but for being a souldier: one amongst twenty of your skirmishing captaines but have some pryvie mayme or other that marres their stand- ing upright. I like him the worse, hee crinckles >>> so much in the hams; though hee might serve if their were no more men,—yet hee's not the man I would choose. Anna. Fye, how thou prat'st! Put. As I am a very woman, I like Signiour >>> Soranzo well: hee is wise, and what is more, rich; and what is more then that, kind; and what is more then all this, a noble-man; such a one, were I the faire Annabella my selfe, I would wish and pray for. Then hee is bounti- >>> full; besides, hee is handsome, and, by my troth, I thinke, wholsome—and that's newes in a gallant of three and twenty; liberall, that I know; loving, that you know; and a man sure, else hee could never ha' purchast such a good name with >>> Hippoltia, the lustie widdow, in her husbands life time. And 'twere but for that report, sweet heart, would 'a were thine! Commend a man for his qualities, but take a husband as he is a plaine-sufficient, naked man: such a one is for >>> your bed, and such a one is Signior Soranzo, my life for't. Anna. Sure the woman tooke her mornings draught to soone.

<> Enter Bergetto and Poggio. Put. But looke sweet heart, looke what thinge >>> comes now! Here's another of your cyphers to fill up the number: Oh, brave old ape in a silken coate! Observe. Ber. Did'st thou thinke, Poggio, that I would spoyle my new cloathes, and leave my dinner to >>> fight? Pog. No, sir, I did not take you for so arrant a babie. Ber. I am wyser then so: for I hope, Poggio, thou never heard'st of an elder brother that was >>> a coxcomb; dids't, Poggio? Pog. Never, indeede, sir, as long as they had either land or mony left them to inherit. Ber. Is it possible, Poggio? Oh, monstruous! Why, Ile undertake with a handfull of silver to >>> buy a headfull of wit at any tyme: but, sirrah, I have another purchase in hand. I shall have the wench, myne unckle sayes. I will but wash my face, and shift socks, and then have at her, yfaith . . . Marke my pace, Poggio! >>> Pog. Sir, I have seene an asse and a mult trot the Spannish pavin with a better grace, I know not how often. >>> Exeunt. Anna. This ideot haunts me too. Put. I, I, he needes no discription. The rich >>> magnifico that is below with your father, chardge,

Signior Donado his unckle, for that he meanes to make this, his cozen, a golden calfe, thinkes that you wil be a right Isralite, and fall downe to him presently: but I hope I have tuterd you >>> better. They say a fooles bable is a ladies play- fellow; yet you, having wealth enough, you neede not cast upon the dearth of flesh at any rate. Hang him, innocent! <> Enter Giovanni. Anna. But see, Putana, see! What blessed shape Of some cælestiall creature now appeares! What man is hee that with such sad aspect Walkes carelesse of him selfe? Put. Where? Anna. Looke below. Put. Oh, 'tis your brother, sweet. Anna. Ha! Put. 'Tis your brother. Anna. Sure 'tis not hee; this is some woefull thinge >>> Wrapt up in griefe, some shaddow of a man. Alas, hee beats his brest, and wipes his eyes, Drown'd all in teares: me thinkes I heare him sigh. Lets downe, Putana, and pertake the cause. I know my brother in the love he beares me >>> Will not denye me partage in his sadnesse— My soule is full of heavinesse and feare. >>> Exit [above with Putana].

Act I, Scene III

[SCENE TERTIA.

A hall in Florio's house.]

Giovanni. Lost! I am lost! my fates have doom'd my death: The more I strive, I love; the more I love, The lesse I hope: I see my ruine certaine. What judgement or endevors could apply To my incurable and restlesse wounds, >>> I throughly have examin'd, but in vaine. O that it were not in religion sinne To make our love a god, and worship it! I have even wearied heaven with prayers, dryed up The spring of my continuall teares, even sterv'd >>> My veines with dayly fasts: what wit or art Could counsaile, I have practiz'd; but, alas, I find all these but dreames and old mens tales To fright unsteedy youth; I'me still the same: Or I must speake or burst; tis not, I know, >>> My lust, but 'tis my fate that leads me on. Keepe feare and low faint hearted shame with slaves! I'le tell her that I love her, though my heart Were rated at the price of that attempt. Oh me! she comes.

<> Enter Anna. and Putana. Annabella. Brother! Gio. [aside]. If such a thing >>> As courage dwell in men, yee heavenly powers, Now double all that virtue in my tongue! Anna. Why, brother, Will you not speake to me? Gio. Yes: how d'ee, sister? Anna. Howsoever I am, me thinks you are not well. >>> Putana. Blesse us! why are you so sad, sir? Gio. Let me intreat you, leave us awhile, Putana. Sister, I would be pryvate with you. Anna. With-drawe, Putana. Put. I will.—[Aside.] If this were any >>> other company for her, I should thinke my ab- sence an office of some credit; but I will leave them together. >>> Exit Putana. Gio. Come, sister, lend your hand: let's walke together. I hope you neede not blush to walke with mee; >>> Here's none but you and I. Anna. How's this? Gio. Faith, I meane no harme. Anna. Harme? Gio. No, good faith. How is't with 'ee?

Anna. I trust hee be not franticke— I am very well, brother. Gio. Trust me, but I am sicke: I feare so sick >>> 'Twill cost my life. Anna. Mercy forbid it! 'tis not so, I hope. Gio. I thinke you love me, sister. Anna. Yes, you know I doe. Gio. I know't, indeed—y'are very faire. Anna. Nay, then, I see you have a merry sicknesse. >>> Gio. That's as it proves: thepoets faigne, I read, That Juno for her forehead did exceede All other goddesses; but I durst sweare Your forehead exceeds hers, as hers did theirs. Anna. Troth, this is pretty! Gio. Such a paire of starres >>> As are thine eyes would, like Promethean fire, If gently glaun'st, give life to senselesse stones. Anna. Fie upon 'ee! Gio. The lilly and the rose, most sweetly strainge, Upon your dimpled cheekes doe strive for change. >>>

Such lippes would tempt a saint; such hands as those Would make an anchoret lascivious. Anna. D'ee mock mee or flatter mee? Gio. If you would see a beauty more exact Then art can counterfit or nature frame, >>> Looke in your glasse, and there behold your owne. Anna. O, you are a trime youth. Gio. Here! >>> Offers his dagger to her. Anna. What to doe? Gio. And here's my breast; strike home! Rip up my bosome; there thou shalt behold A heart in which is writ the truth I speake. >>> Why stand 'ee? Anna. Are you earnest? Gio. Yes, most earnest. You cannot love? Anna. Whom? Gio. Me! My tortur'd soule Hath felt affliction in the heate of death— O Annabella, I am quite undone! The love of thee, my sister, and the view >>> Of thy immortall beauty hath untun'd All harmony both of my rest and life. Why d'ee not strike?

Anna. Forbid it, my just feares! If this be true, 'twere fitter I were dead. Gio. True, Annabella; 'tis no time to jest. >>> I have too long supprest the hidden flames That almost have consum'd me: I have spent Many a silent night in sighes and groanes, Ran over all my thoughts, despis'd my fate, Reason'd against the reasons of my love, >>> Done all that smooth'd-cheeke vertue could advise; But found all bootelesse: 'tis my destiny That you must eyther love, or I must dye. Anna. Comes this in sadnesse from you? Gio. Let some mischiefe Befall me soone, if I dissemble ought. >>> Anna. You are my brother, Giovanni. Gio. You, My sister Annabella; I know this, And could afford you instance why to love So much the more for this; to which intent Wise nature first in your creation ment >>> To make you mine; else't had beene sinne and foule To share one beauty to a double soule. Neerenesse in birth or blood doth but perswade A neerer neerenesse in affection. I have askt counsell of the holy church, >>>

Who tells mee I may love you; and 'tis just That, since I may, I should; and will, yes, will! Must I now live or dye? Anna. Live; thou hast wonne The field, and never fought; what thou hast urg'd My captive heart had long agoe resolv'd. >>> I blush to tell thee,—but I'le tell thee now,— For every sigh that thou hast spent for me I have sigh'd ten; for every teare shed twenty: And not so much for that I lov'd, as that I durst not say I lov'd, nor scarcely thinke it. >>> Gio. Let not this musicke be a dreame, yee gods, For pittie's-sake, I begge 'ee. Anna. On my knees, >>> Shee kneeles. Brother, even by our mothers dust, I charge you, Doe not betray mee to your mirth or hate: Love mee or kill me, brother. Gio. On my knees, >>> He kneeles. Sister, even by my mothers dust, I charge you, Doe not betray mee to your mirth or hate: Love mee or kill mee, sister. Anna. You meane good sooth, then? Gio. In good troth, I doe; And so doe you, I hope: say, I'm in earnest. >>>

Anna. I'le swear't, and I. Gio. And I; and by this kisse,— >>> Kisses her. Once more! yet once more! now let's rise,—by this, I would not change this minute for Elyzium. What must we now doe? Anna. What you will. Gio. Come, then; After so many teares as wee have wept, >>> Let's learne to court in smiles, to kisse and sleepe. >>> Exeunt.

Act I, Scene IV

[SCENA QUARTA. A street.]

Enter Florio and Donado.

Florio. Signior Donado, you have sayd enough— I understand you; but would have you know I will not force my daughter 'gainst her will. You see I have but two, a sonne and her; And hee is so devoted to his booke, >>> As I must tell you true, I doubt his health: Should he miscarry, all my hopes rely Upon my girle. As for worldly fortune, I am, I thank my starres, blest with enough. My care is how to match her to her liking: >>>

I would not have her marry wealth, but love; And if she like your nephew, let him have her. Here's all that I can say. Donado Sir, you say well, Like a true father; and, for my part, I, If the young folkes can like,—twixt you and me,— >>> Will promise to assure my nephew presently Three thousand florrens yeerely during life, And after I am dead my whole estate. Flo. 'Tis a faire proffer, sir, meane time your nephew Shall have free passage to commence his suite: >>> If hee can thrive, hee shall have my consent. So for this time I'le leave you, signior. >>> Exit. Do. Well, Here's hope yet, if my nephew would have wit; But hee is such another dunce, I feare Hee'le never winne the wench. When I was young, >>> I could have done't, yfaith; and so shall hee, If hee will learne of mee; and, in good time, Hee comes himselfe. <> Enter Bergetto and Poggio. How now, Bergetto, whether away so fast? Bergetto. Oh, unkle, I have heard the strangest >>>

newes that ever came out of the mynt! Have I not, Poggio? Poggio. Yes, indeede, sir. Do. What newes, Bergetto? Ber. Why, looke yee, unkle, my barber told >>> me just now that there is a fellow come to towne who undertakes to make a mill goe with- out the mortall helpe of any water or winde, onely with sand-bags: and this fellow hath a strange horse, a most excellent beast, I'le assure >>> you, uncle, my barber sayes, whose head to the wonder of all Christian people, stands just be- hind where his tayle is—is 't not true, Poggio? Pog. So the barber swore, forsooth. Do. And you are running [t]hither? >>> Ber. I, forsooth, unkle. Do. Wilt thou be a foole stil? Come, sir, you shall not goe. You have more mind of a puppet-play then on the businesse I told y 'ee. Why, thou great baby, wu't never have wit? >>> Wu't make thy selfe a May-game to all the world? Pog. Answere for your selfe, maister. Ber. Why, unkle, shu'd I sit at home still, and not goe abroad to see fashions like other >>> gallants? Do. To see hobby-horses! What wise talke,

I pray, had you with Annabella, when you were at Signior Florio's house? Ber. Oh, the wench! Uds sa' me, unkle, I >>> tickled her with a rare speech, that I made her almost burst her belly with laughing. Do. Nay, I thinke so; and what speech was't? Ber. What did I say, Poggio? >>> Pog. Forsooth, my maister said, that hee loved her almost as well as hee loved parmasent, and swore—I'le be sworne for him—that shee wanted but such a nose as his was, to be as pretty a young woeman as any was in Parma. >>> Do. Oh, grose! Ber. Nay, unkle,—then shee ask't mee whether my father had any more children then my selfe; and I sayd "No, 'twere better hee should have had his braynes knockt out first." >>> Do. This is intolerable. Ber. Then sayd shee, "Will Signior Donado, your unkle, leave you all his wealth?" Do. Ha! that was good—did she harpe upon that string? >>> Ber. Did she harpe upon that string? I, that she did. I answered, "Leave me all his wealth? Why, woeman, hee hath no other wit; if hee had, he should heare on't to his everlasting glory and confusion. I know," quoth I, "I am his >>>

white boy, and will not be guld." And with that she fell into a great smile, and went away. Nay, I did fit her! Do. Ah, sirrah, then I see there is no changing of nature. Well, Bergetto, I feare thou wilt be >>> a very asse still. Ber. I should be sorry for that, unkle. Do. Come, come you home with me: since you are no better a speaker, I'le have you write to her after some courtly manner, and inclose >>> some rich jewell in the letter. Ber. I, marry, that will be excellent. Do. Peace, innocent! Once in my time I'le set my wits to schoole; If all faile, 'tis but the fortune of a foole. >>> Ber. Poggio, 'twill doe, Poggio. >>> Exeunt.

Act II, Scene I

ACTUS SECUNDUS. [SCENA PRIMA.]

[An apartment in Florio's house.]

Enter Giovanni and Annabella as from their chamber.

Giovanni. Come, Annabella,—no more sister now, But love, a name more gracious,—doe not blush, Beauties sweete wonder, but be proud to know That yeelding thou hast conquer'd, and inflam'd A heart whose tribute is thy brothers life. >>> Annabella. And mine is his! Oh, how these stolne contents Would print a modest crymson on my cheekes, Had any but my hearts delight prevail'd! Gio. I marvaile why the chaster of your sex Should thinke this pretty toye call'd maiden-head >>> So strange a losse, when, being lost, 'tis nothing, And you are still the same. Anna. 'Tis well for you; Now you can talke. Gio. Musicke aswell consists In th' care as in the playing. Anna. Oh, y'are wanton! Tell on't, y'are best; doe.

Gio. Thou wilt chide me, then. >>> Kisse me—so! Thus hung Jove on Læda's necke, And suck't divine ambrosia from her lips. I envy not the mightiest man alive; But hold my selfe, in being king of thee, More great than were I king of all the world. >>> But I shall lose you, sweet-heart. Anna. But you shall not! Gio. You must be married, mistres. Anna. Yes, to whom? Gio. Some one must have you. Anna. You must. Gio. Nay, some other. Anna. Now, prithee, do not speake so; without jesting You'le make me weepe in earnest. Gio. What, you will not! >>> But tell me, sweete, cans't thou be dar'd to sweare That thou wilt live to mee, and to no other? Anna. By both our loves I dare; for didst thou know, My Giovanni, how all suiters seeme To my eyes hatefull, thou wouldst trust mee then. >>>

Gio. Enough, I take thy word. Sweet, we must part: Remember what thou vow'st; keepe well my heart. Anna. Will you begon? Gio. I must. Anna. When to returne? Gio. Soone. Anna. Looke you doe. Gio. Farewell. >>> Exit. Anna. Goe where thou wilt, in mind I'le keepe thee here, >>> And where thou art, I know I shall be there. Guardian! <> Enter Putana. Putana. Child, how is't, child? Well, thanke heaven, ha! Anna. O guardian, what a paradise of joy Have I past over! >>> Put. Nay, what a paradise of joy have you past under! Why now I commend thee, chardge. Feare nothing, sweete-heart, what though hee be your brother: your brother's a man, I hope, and I say still, if a young wench >>> feele the fitt upon her, let her take any body— father or brother, all is one.

Anna. I would not have it knowne for all the world. Put. Nor I, indeed, for the speech of the peo- ple; else 'twere nothing. Florio (within). Daughter Annabella! Anna. O mee! my father.—Here, sir!— Reach my worke. Flo. (within). What are you doeing? Anna. So, let him come now. <> Enter Florio, Richardetto like a Doctor of Phisicke, and Philotis with a lute in her hand. Flo. So hard at worke! that's well; you lose no time Looke, I have brought you company; here's one >>> A learned doctor, lately come from Padua, Much skild in physicke; and, for that I see You have of late beene sickly, I entreated This reverent man to visit you some time. Anna. Y'are very welcome, sir. Richardetto. I thanke you, mistresse. >>> Loud fame in large report hath spoke your praise Aswell for vertue as perfection: For which I have beene bold to bring with mee A kins-woeman of ine, a maide, for song And musicke one perhaps will give content. >>> Please you to know her. Anna. They are parts I love. And shee for them most welcome.