Venice Preserv'd

Front matter

Venice Preserv'd,

OR,

A Plot Discover'd.

Epistle Dedicatory

EPISTLE DEDICATORY

To Her GRACE the

DUTCHESS

OF

PORTSMOUTH.

MADAM,

W it possible for me to let the World know how entirely your Graces Goodness has devoted a poor man to your service; were there words enough in speech to express the mighty sense I have of your great bounty towards me; surely I should write and talk of it for ever: But your Grace has given me so large a Theam, and laid so very vast a foundation, that Imagination wants stock to build upon it. I am as one dumb when I would speak of it, and when I strive to write, I want a scale of thought sufficient to comprehend the height of it. Forgive me then, Madam, if (as a poor Peasant once made a Present of an Apple to an Emperour) I bring this small Tribute, the humble growth of my little Garden, and lay it at your feet. Believe it is paid you with the utmost gratitude, believe that so long as I have thought to remember, how very much I owe your generous Nature, I will ever have a heart that shall be gratefull for it too: Your Grace, next Heaven, deserves it amply from me; That gave me life, but on a hard condition, till your extended favour taught me to prize the gift, and took the heavy burthen it was elogg'd with from me: I mean hard Fortune: When I had enemies, that with malitious power kept back and shaded me from those Royal Beams, whose warmth is all I have, or hope to live by; Tour noble pity and compassion found me, where I was far cast backward from my blessing; down in the rear of Fortune, call'd me up, plac'd me in the shine, and I have felt its comfort. You have in that restor'd me to my native Right, for a steady Faith, and Loyalty to my Prince, was all the Inheritance my Father left me, and however hardly my ill Fortune deal with me, 'tis what I prize so well that I ne'r pawn'd it yet, and hope I ne'r shall part with it. Nature and Fortune were certainly in league when you were born, and as the first took care to give you beauty enough to enslave the hearts of all the World, so the other resolv'd to doe its merit Justice, that none but a Monarch, fit to rule that World, should e'r possess it, and in it he had an Empire. The Young Prince you have given him, by his blooming Vertues, early declares the mighty stock he came from; and as you have taken all the pious care of a dear Mother and a prudent Guardian to give him a noble and generous education; may it succeed according to his merits and your wishes: May he grow up to be a Bulwark to his illustrious Father, and a Patron to his Loyal Subjects, with Wisedom and Learning to assist him, whenever call'd to his Councils, to defend his right against the encroachments of Republicans in his Senates, to cherish such men as shall be able to vindicate the Royal Cause, that good and fit servants to the Crown, may never be lost for want of a Protectour. May He have courage and conduct, fit to fight his Battels abroad, and terrific his Rebells at home; and that all these may be yet more sure, may He never, during the Spring-time of his years, when those growing Vertues ought with care to be cherish'd, in order to their ripening; may he never meet with vitious Natures, or the tongues of faithless, sordid, insipid Flatterers, to blast 'em: To conclude; may He be as great as the hand of Fortune (with his Honour) shall be able to make him: And may your Grace, who are so good a Mistress, and so noble a Patroness, never meet with a less gratefull Servant, than,

Madam,

Your Graces entirely

Devoted Creature,

Thomas Otway.

Prologue

PROLOGUE.

Epilogue

EPILOGUE,

THE Text is done, and now for Application, And when that's ended pass your Approbation. Though the Conspiracy's prevented here, Methinks I see another hatching there; And there's a certain Faction fain would sway, >>> If they had strength enough and damn this Play, But this the Author bad me boldly say: If any take his plainness in ill part, He's glad on't from the bottome of his heart; Poets in honour of the Truth shou'd write, With the same Spirit brave men for it fight; And though against him causeless hatreds rise, >>> And dayly where he goes of late, he spies The scowles of sullen and revengefull eyes; Tis what he knows with much contempt to bear, And serves a cause too good to let him fear: He fears no poison from an incens'd Drabb, No Ruffian's five-foot-sword, nor Rascal's stab; Nor any other snares of mischief laid, Not a Rose-alley Cudgel-Ambuscade, From any private cause where malice reigns, Or general Pique all Block-heads have to brains: Nothing shall daunt his Pen when Truth does call, No not the Picture-mangler at Guild-hall. The Rebel-Tribe, of which that Vermin's one, Have now set forward and their course begun; And while that Prince's figure they deface, As they before had massacred his Name, Durst their base fears but look him in the face, They'd use his Person as they've us'd his Fame;

A face, in which such lineaments they reade Of that great Martyr's, whose rich bloud they shed, That their rebellious hate they still retain, And in his Son would murther Him again: With indignation then, let each brave heart, Rouse and unite to take his injur'd part; Till Royal Love and Goodness call him home, And Songs of Triumph meet him as he come; Till Heaven his Honour and our Peace restore, And Villains never wrong his Vertue more.

Personæ Dramatis

Personæ Dramatis.

Duke of Venice, | Mr. D. Williams.

Prinli, Father to Belvidera, a Senatour, | Mr. Boman.

Antonio, A fine Speaker in the Senate, | Mr. Leigh.

Jaffeir, | Mr. Betterton.

Pierre, | Mr. Smith.

Renault, | Conspiratours, | Mr. Wilshire.

Bedamar, | Mr. Gillo.

Spinosa, | Mr. Percival.

Theodore,

Eliot,

Revillido,

Durand,

Mezzana,

Bramveil,

Ternon,

Brabe,

Belvidera, | Mrs. Barry.

Aquilina, | Mrs. Currer.

Two Women, Attendants on Belvidera.

Two Women, Servants to Aquilina.

The Council of Ten.

Officer.

Guards.

Friar.

Executioner and Rable.

Act I

VENICE PRESERV'D,

OR

A Plot Discover'd.

Act I. Scene I.

<>Enter Priuli and Jaffeir.

No more! I'le hear no more; begone and leave.

Jaff. Not hear me! by my sufferings but you shall! My Lord, my Lord, I'm not that abject wretch You think me: Patience! where is the distance throws Me back so far, but I may boldly speak In right, though proud oppression will not hear mee!

Priu. Have you not wrong'd me?

Jaff. Could my Nature e're Have brook'd Injustice or the doing wrongs, I need not now thus low have bent my self, To gain a Hearing from a Cruel father! Wrong'd you?

Priu. Yes! wrong'd me, in the nicest point: The Honour of my House; you have done me wrong; You may remember (For I now will speak, And urge its baseness:) When you first came home From Travell, with such hopes, as made you lookt on By all men's Eyes, a Youth of expectation; Pleas'd with your growing Virtue, I receiu'd you; Courted, and sought to raise you to your Merits: My House, my Table, nay my Fortune too, My very self, was yours; you might have us'd me To your best service; like an open friend,

I treated, trusted you, and thought you mine; When in requital of my best Endeavours, You treacherously practis'd to undo the, Seduc'd the weakness of my Age's Darling, My only Child, and stole her from my bosome: Oh Belvidera!

Jaff. 'Tis to me you owe her, Childless you had been else, and in the Grave, Your name Extinct, nor no more Priuli heard of. You may remember, scarce five years are past, Since in your Brigandine you sail'd to see The Adriatick wedded by our Duke, And I was with you: Your unskilfull Pilot Dash't us upon a Rock; when to your Boat You made for safety; entred first your self; The affrighted Belvidera following next, As she stood trembling on the Vessel side, Was by a Wave washt off into the Deep, When instantly I plung'd into the Sea, And Buffeting the Billows to her rescue, Redeem'd her Life with half the loss of mine, Like a rich Conquest in one hand I bore her, And with the other dasht the sawcy Waves, That throng'd and prest to rob me of my prize: I brought her, gave her to your despairing Arms: Indeed you thank't me; but a nobler gratitude Rose in her soul: for from that hour she lov'd me, Till for her Life she paid me with her self.

Priu. You stole her from me, like a Theif you stole her, At dead os night; that cursed hour you chose To rifle me of all my Heart hold dear. May all your Joys in her prove false like mine; A steril Fortune, and a barren Bed, Attend you both: Continual discord make Your Days and Nights bitter and grievous: Still May the hard hand of a vexatious Need Oppress, and grind you; till at last you find The Curse of Disobedience all your Portion.

Jaff. Half of your Curse you have bestow'd in vain, Heav'n has already crown'd our faithfull Loves

With a young Boy, sweet as his mothers Beauty: May he live to prove mere Gentle than his Grandsire, And happier than his Father!

Priu. Rather live To bait thee for his bread, and din your ears With hungry Cries: Whilst his unhappy Mother Sits down and weeps in bitterness of want.

Jaff. You talk as if it would please you.

Priu. 'T would by Heav'n. Once she was dear indeed; the Drops that fell From my sad heart, when she forgot her Duty, The fountain of my Life was not so pretious: But she is gone, and if I am a man I will forget her.

Jaff. Would I were in my Grave.

Priu. And she too with thee; For, living here, you're but my curs'd Remembrancers I once was happy.

Jaff. You use me thus, because you know my soul Is fond of Belvidera: You perceive My Life feeds on her, therefore thus you treat me; Oh! could my Soul ever have known satiety: Were I that Theif, the doer of such wrongs As you upbraid me with, what hinders me, But I might send her back to you with Contumely, And court my fortune where she wou'd be kinder!

Priu. You dare not do't.——

Jaff. Indeed, my Lord, I dare not. My heart that awes me is too much my Master: Three years are past since first our Vows were plighted, During which time, the World must bear me witness, I have treated Belvidera like your Daughter, The Daughter of a Senator of Venice; Distinction, Place, Attendance and Observance, Due to her Birth, she always has commanded; Out of my little Fortune I have done this; Because (though hopeless e're to win your Nature) The World might see, I lov'd her for her self, Not as the Heiress of the great Priuli.——

Priu. No more!

Jaff. Yes! all, and then adieu for ever. There's not a Wretch that lives on common Charity But's happier than me: for I have known The Luscious Sweets of Plenty; every night Have slept with soft content about my head, And never waked but to a joyfull morning. Yet now must fall like a full Ear of Corn, Whose blossom scap'd, yet's withered in the ripening.

Priu. Home and be humble, study to retrench; Discharge the lazy Vermin of thy Hall, Those Pageants of thy Folly, Reduce the glittering Trappings of thy Wife To humble Weeds, fit for thy little state; Then to some suburb Cottage both retire; Drudge, to feed loathsome life: Get Brats, and Starve—— Home, home, I say.—— >>>[Exit Priuli.

Jaff. Yes, if my heart would let me— This proud, this swelling heart: Home I would go, But that my Dores are hatefull to my eyes, Fill'd and damm'd up with gaping Creditors, Watchfull as Fowlers when their Game will spring; I have now not 50 Ducats in the World, Yet still I am in love, and pleas'd with Ruin. Oh Belvidera! oh she's my Wife—— And we will be bear our way ward Fate together, But ne're know Comfort more.

<>Enter Pierrè.

Pierr. My Friend good morrow! How fares the honest Partner of my Heart? What, melancholy! not a word to spare me?

Jaff. I'm thinking Pierrè, how that damn'd starving Quality Call'd Honesty, got footing in the World.

Pierr. Why, pow'rfull Villainy first set it up, For its own ease and safety: Honest men Are the soft easy Cushions on which Knaves Repose and satten: Were all mankind Villains, They'd starve each other, Lawyers wou'd want practice, Cut-Throats Rewards: Each man would kill his Brother Himself, none would be paid or hang'd for Murder:

Honesty was a Cheat invented first To bind the Hands of bold deserving Rogues, That Fools and Cowards might sit safe in Power, And lord it uncontroul'd above their Betters.

Jaff. Then Honesty is but a Notion.

Pierr. Nothing else, Like wit, much talkt of, not to be defin'd: He that pretends to most too, has least share in't; 'Tis a ragged Virtue: Honesty! no more on't.

Jaff. Sure thou art Honest?

Pierr. So indeed men think me? But they're mistaken Jaffeir: I am a Rogue As well as they; A fine gay bold fac'd Villain, as thou seest me; 'Tis true, I pay my debts when they'r contracted; I steal from no man; would not cut a Throat To gain admission to a great man's purse, Or a Whores bed; I'de not betray my Friend, To get his Place or Fortune: I scorn to flatter A Blown-up Fool above me, or Crush the wretch beneath me, Yet, Jaffeir, for all this, I am a Villain!

Jaff. A Villain——

Pierr. Yes a most notorious Villain: To see the suffring's of my fellow Creatures, And own my self a Man: To see our Senators Cheat the deluded people with a shew Of Liberty, which yet they ne'r must taste of; They say, by them our hands are free from Fetters, Yet whom they please they lay in basest bonds; Bring whom they please to Infamy and Sorrow; Drive us like Wracks down the rough Tide of Power, Whilst no hold's left to save us from Destruction; All that bear this are Villains; and I one, Not to rouse up at the great Call of Nature, And check the Growth of these Domestick spoilers, That makes us slaves and tells us 'tis our Charter.

Jaff. Oh Aquilina! Friend, to lose such Beauty; The Dearest Purchase of thy noble Labours; She was thy Right by Conquest, as by Love.

Pierr. Oh Jaffeir! I'de so fixt my heart upon her,

That wheresoe're I fram'd a Scheme of Life For time to come, she was my only Joy With which I wish't to sweeten future Cares; I fancy'd pleasures, none but one that loves And dotes as I did can Imagine like 'em: When in the Extremity of all these Hopes, In the most Charming hour of Expectation, Then when our Eager Wishes soar the highest, Ready to stoop and grasp the lovely Game, A Haggard Owl, a Worthless Kite of Prey, With his foul wings sayl'd in and spoyl'd my Quarry.

Jaff. I know the Wretch, and scorn him as thou hat'st him.

Pierr. Curse on the Common Good that's so protected, Where every slave that heaps up wealth enough To do much Wrong, becomes a Lord of Right: I, who beleiv'd no Ill could e're come near me, Found in the Embraces of my Aquilina A Wretched old but itching Senator; A wealthy Fool, that had bought out my Title. A Rogue, that uses Beauty like a Lambskin, Barely to keep him warm: That filthy Cuckoo too Was in my absence crept into my Nest, And spoyling all my Brood of noble Pleasure.

Jaff. Didst thou not chace him thence?

Pierr. I did, and drove The rank old bearded Hirco stinking home: The matter was complain'd of in the Senate, I summon'd to appear, and censur'd basely, For violating something they call priviledge—— This was the Recompence of my service: Would l'd been rather beaten by a Coward! A Souldier's Mistress Jaffeirs his Religion, When that's prophan'd, all other Tyes are broken, That even dissolves all former bonds of service, And from that hour I think my self as free To be the Foe as e're the Friend of Venice—— Nay, Dear Revenge, when e're thou call'st I am ready.

Jaff. I think no safety can be here for Virtue, And grieve my friend as much as thou to live In such a wretched State as this of Venice;

Where all agree to spoil the Publick Good, And Villains fatten with the brave man's Labours.

Pierr. We have neither safety, Unity, nor Peace, For the foundation's lost of Common Good; Justice is lame as well as blind amongst us; The Laws (corrupted to their ends that make 'em) Serve but for Instruments of some new Tyranny, That every day starts up to enslave us deeper: Now could this glorious Cause but find out friends To do it right! oh Jaffeir! then might'st thou Not wear these seals of Woe upon thy Face, The proud Priuli should be taught humanity, And learn to value such a son as thou art. I dare not speak! But my heart bleeds this moment!

Jaff. Curst be the Cause, though I thy friend be part on't: Let me partake the troubles of thy bosom, For I am us'd to misery, and perhaps May find a way to sweeten't to thy spirit.

Pierr. Too soon it will reach thy knowledg——

Jaff. Then from thee Let it proceed. There's Virtue in thy Friendship Would make the saddest Tale of sorrow pleasing, Strengthen my Constancy, and welcome Ruin.

Pierr. Then thou art ruin'd!

Jaff. That I long since knew, I and ill Fortune have been long Acquaintance.

Pierr I past this very moment by thy dores, And found them guarded by a Troop of Villains; The sons of public Rapine were destroying: They told me, by the sentence of the Law They had Commission to seize all thy fortune, Nay more, Priulis cruel hand hath sign'd it. Here stood a Ruffian with a horrid face Lording it o're a pile of massy Plate, Tumbled into a heap for publick sale: There was another making villainous jests At thy undoing; he had ta'ne possession Of all thy antient most domestick Ornaments, Rich hangings, intermixt and wrought with gold; The very bed, which on thy wedding night Receiv'd thee to the Arms of Belvidera,

The scene of all thy Joys, was violated By the course hands of filthy Dungeon Villains, And thrown amongst the common Lumber.

Jaff. Now thanks Heav'n——

Pierr. Thank Heav'n! for what?

Jaff. That I am not worth a Ducat.

Pierr. Curse thy dull Stars, and the worse Fate of Venice, Where Brothers, Friends, and Fathers, all are false; Where there's no trust, no truth; where Innocence Stoop's under vile Oppression; and Vice lords it: Hadst thou but seen, as I did, how at last Thy Beauteous Belvidera, like a Wretch That's doom'd to Banishment, came weeping forth, Shining through Tears, like April Sun's in showers That labour to orecome the Cloud that loads 'm, Whilst two young Virgins, on whose Arms she lean'd, Kindly lookt up, and at her Grief grew sad, As if they catch't the Sorrows that fell from her: Even the lewd Rabble that were gather'd round To see the sight, stood mute when they beheld her; Govern'd their roaring throats and grumbled pity: I cou'd have hugg'd the greazy Rogues: They pleas'd me.

Jaff. I thank thee for this story from my soul, Since now I know the worst that can befall me: Ah Pierre! I have a Heart, that could have born The roughest Wrong my Fortune could have done me: But when I think what Belvidera feels, The bitterness her tender spirit tasts of, I own my self a Coward: Bear my weakness, If throwing thus my Arms about thy Neck, I play the Boy, and blubber in thy bosome. Oh! I shall drown thee with my Sorrows!

Pierr. Burn! First burn, and Level Venice to thy Ruin, What starve like Beggars Brats in frosty weather, Under a Hedge, and whine our selves to Death! Thou, or thy Cause, shall never want assistance, Whilst I have blood or Fortune fit to serve thee; Command my heart: Thou art every way its master.

Jaff. No: there's a secret Pride in bravely dying.

Pierr. Rats die in Holes and Corners, Dogs run mad; Man knows a braver Remedy for sorrow: Revenge! the Attribute of Gods, they stampt it With their great Image on our Natures; dye! Consider well the Cause that calls upon thee: And if thou art base enough, dye then: Remember Thy Belvidera suffers: Belvidera! Dye——Damn first——what be decently interr'd In a Church-yard, and mingle thy brave dust With stinking Rogues that rot in dirty winding sheets, Surfeit-slain Fools, the common Dung o'th Soyl.

Jaff. Oh!

Pierr. Well said, out with't, Swear a little——

Jaff. Swear! By Sea and Air! by Earth, by Heaven and Hell, I will revenge my Belvidera's Tears! Heark thee my Friend—Priuli—is—a Senator!

Pierr. A Dog!

Jaff. Agreed.

Pierr. Shoot him.

Jaff. With all my heart. No more: Where shall we meet at Night?

Pierr. I'l tell thee; On the Ryalto every Night at Twelve I take my Evening's walk of Meditation, There we two will meet, and talk of pretious Mischief——

Jaff. Farewell.

Pierr. At Twelve.

Jaff. At any hour, my plagues Will keep me waking. >>>[Ex. Pierr. Tell me why, good Heav'n, Thou mad'st me what I am, with all the Spirit, Aspiring thoughts and Elegant desires That fill the happiest Man? Ah! rather why Did'st thou not form me fordid as my Fate, Base minded, dull, and fit to carry Burdens? Why have I sence to know the Curse that's on me? Is this just dealing, Nature? Belvidera! >>>[Enter Belvidera. Poor Belvidera!

Belvid. Lead me, lead me my Virgins! To that kind Voice. My Lord, my Love, my Refuge! Happy my Eyes, when they behold thy Face: My heavy heart will leave its doleful beating At sight of thee, and bound with sprightful joys. Oh smile, as when our Loves were in their Spring, And cheer my fainting Soul.

Jaff. As when our Loves Were in their Spring: has then my Fortune chang'd? Art thou not Belvidera, still the same, Kind, good, and tender, as my Arms first found thee? If thou art alter'd, where shall I have harbour? Where ease my loaded Heart? Oh! where complain?

Belv. Does this appear like Change, or Love decaying? When thus I throw my self into thy bosom, With all the resolution of a strong Truth: Beat's not my heart, as 'twould alarm thine To a new Change of bliss; I joy more in thee, Than did thy Mother when she hugg'd thee first, And bless'd the Gods for all her Travel past.

Jaff. Can there in Woman be such glorious Faith? Sure all ill stories of thy Sex are false; Oh Woman! lovely Woman! Nature made thee To temper Man: We had been Brutes without you, Angels are Painted fair, to look like you; There's in you all that we believe of Heav'n, Amazing Brightness, Purity and Truth, Eternal Joy, and everlasting Love.

Belv. If Love be Treasure, wee'l be wondrous rich: I have so much, my heart will surely break with't; Vow's cannot express it, when I wou'd declare How great's my Joy, I am dumb with the big thought; I swell, and sigh, and labour with my longing. Oh lead me to some Desart wide and wild, Barren as our Misfortunes, where my Soul May have its vent: Where I may tell aloud To the high Heaven's, and every list'ning Planet, With what a boundless stock my bosom's fraught; Where I may throw my eager Arms about thee, Give loose to Love with kisses, kindling Joy, And let off all the Fire that's in my Heart.

Jaff. Oh Belvidera! double I am a Begger, Undone by Fortune, and in debt to thee; Want! worldly Want! that hungry meager Fiend Is at my heels, and chaces me in view; Can'st thou bear Cold and Hunger? Can these Limbs, Fram'd for the tender Offices of Love, Endure the bitter Gripes of smarting Poverty? When banisht by our miseries abroad, (As suddenly we shall be) to seek out (In some far Climate where our Names are strangers) For charitable succour: wilt thou then, When in a Bed of straw we shrink together, And the bleak winds shall whistle round our heads; Wilt thou then talk thus to me? Wilt thou then Hush my Cares thus, and shelter me with Love?

Belv. Oh I will love thee, even in Madness love thee: Tho my distracted Senses should forsake me, I'd find some intervals, when my poor heart Should swage it self and be let loose to thine. Though the bare Earth be all our Resting-place, It's Root's our food, some Clift our Habitation, I'l make this Arm a Pillow for thy Head; As thou sighing ly'st, and swell'd with sorrow, Creep to thy Bosom, pou'r the balm of Love Into thy Soul, and kiss thee to thy Rest; Then praise our God, and watch thee 'till the Morning.

Jaff. Hear this you Heaven's, and wonder how you made her! Reign, reign ye Monarchs that divide the World, Busy Rebellion ner'e will let you know Tranquility and Happiness like mine, Like gawdy Ships, th' obsequious Billows fall And rise again, to lift you in your Pride; They wait but for a storm and then devour you: I, in my private Bark, already wreck't, Like a poor Merchant driven on unknown Land, That had by chance packt up his choicest Treasure In one dear Casket, and sav'd only that: Since I must wander further on the shore, Thus hug my little, but my precious store; Resolv'd to scorn, and trust my Fate no more. >>>[Exeunt.

Act II

ACT. II.

<>Enter Pierre and Aquilina.

By all thy Wrongs, thou art dearer to my Arms Than all the Wealth of Venice: Prithee stay, And let us love to night.

Pierr. No: There's Fool, There's Fool about thee: When a Woman sells Her Flesh to Fools, her Beauty's lost to me; They leave a Taint, a sully where th'ave past, There's such a baneful Quality about'em, Even spoyls Complexions with their own Nauseousness, They infect all they touch, I cannot think Of tasting any thing a Fool has pall'd.

Aquil. I loath and scorn that Fool thou mean'st, as much Or more than thou can'st; But the Beast has Gold That makes him necessary: Power too, To qualifie my Character, and poise me Equal with peevish Virtue, that beholds My Liberty with Envy: In their Hearts Are loose as I am, But an ugly Power Sits in their Faces, and frights Pleasures from 'em.

Pierr. Much good may't do you, Madam, with your Senator.

Aquil. My Senator! why, can'st thou think that Wretch E're fill'd thy Aquilinas Arms with Pleasure? Think'st thou, because I sometimes give him leave To foyle himself at what he is unfit for; Because I force my self to endure and suffer him, Think'st thou I love him? No, by all the Joys Thou ever gav'st me, his Presence is my Pennance; The worst thing an old Man can be's a Lover, A meer Memento Mori to poor woman. I never lay by his decrepit side, But all that night I ponder'd on my Grave.

Pierr. Would he were well sent thither.

Aquil. That's my wish too: For then, my Pierre, I might have cause with pleasure

To play the Hypocrite: Oh! how I could weep Over the dying Dotard, and kiss him too, In hopes to smother him quite; then, when the time Was come to pay my Sorrows at his Funeral, For he has already made me Heir to Treasures, Would make me out-acta real Widows whining: How could I frame my face to fit my mourning! With wringing hands attend him to his Grave, Fall swooning on his Hearse: Take mad possession, Even of the Dismal Vault, where he lay bury'd, There like the Ephesian Matron dwell, till Thou, My lovely Soldier, comest to my Deliverance; Then throwing up my Veil, with open Armes And laughing Eyes, run to new dawning Joy.

Pierr. No more! I have Friends to meet me here to night, And must be private. As you prize my Friendship Keep up your Coxcomb: Let him not pry nor listen, Nor fisk about the House as I have seen him, Like a tame mumping Squirrel with a bell on; Currs will be abroad to bite him, if you do.

Aquil. What Friends to meet? may I not be of your Council?

Pierr. How! a Woman ask Questions out of Bed? Go to your Senator, ask him what passes Amongst his Brethren, hee'l hide nothing from you; But pump not me for Politicks. No more! Give order that whoever in my name Comes here, receive Admittance: so good night.

Aquil. Must we ne're meet again! Embrace no more! Is Love so soon and ulterly forgotten!

Pierr. As you hence-forward treat your Fool, I'le think on't.

Aquil. Curst be all Fools, and doubly curst my self, The worst of Fools—I die if he forsakes me; And now to keep him, Heav'n or Hell instruct me. >>>[Exeunt.