Oh, now I find the cause my love
forsakes
me!
Thomas Otway
yet recall me--
[_Exeunt_ RENAULT, BEDAMAR, _and_
BELVIDERA.
_Jaff. _ O my eyes,
Look not that way, but turn yourselves awhile
Into my heart, and be weaned altogether!
My friend, where art thou?
_Pier. _ Here, my honour's brother.
_Jaff. _ Is Belvidera gone?
_Pier. _ Renault has led her
Back to her own apartment: but, by Heaven!
Thou must not see her more till our work's over.
_Jaff. _ No?
_Pier. _ Not for your life.
_Jaff. _ O Pierre! wert thou but she,
How I could pull thee down into my heart,
Gaze on thee till my eye-strings cracked with love,
Till all my sinews, with its fire extended,
Fixed me upon the rack of ardent longing!
Then swelling, sighing, raging to be blest,
Come like a panting turtle to thy breast;
On thy soft bosom hovering, bill and play,
Confess the cause why last I fled away,
Own 'twas a fault, but swear to give it o'er,
And never follow false ambition more. [_Exeunt. _
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[65] A reference to the story in Petronius on which Chapman founded his
_Widow's Tears_.
[66] _i. e. _ Shut up.
[67] A word of two syllables, as in Shakespeare.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I. --_A Room in_ AQUILINA'S _House_.
_Enter_ AQUILINA _and her_ Maid.
_Aquil. _ Tell him I am gone to bed: tell him I am not at home:
tell him I've better company with me, or anything; tell him, in
short, I will not see him, the eternal troublesome vexatious
fool; he's worse company than an ignorant physician. I'll not
be disturbed at these unseasonable hours.
_Maid. _ But, madam, he's here already, just entered the doors.
_Aquil. _ Turn him out again, you unnecessary, useless,
giddy-brained ass! If he will not be gone, set the house
a-fire, and burn us both: I had rather meet a toad in my dish
than that old hideous animal in my chamber to-night.
_Enter_ ANTONIO. [68]
_Ant. _ Nacky, Nacky, Nacky--how dost do, Nacky? Hurry durry!
I am come, little Nacky; past eleven o'clock, a late hour;
time in all conscience to go to bed, Nacky--Nacky did I say?
Ay, Nacky; Aquilina, lina, lina, quilina, quilina, quilina,
Aquilina, Naquilina, Naquilina, Acky, Acky, Nacky, Nacky, queen
Nacky--come, let's to bed--you fubbs, you pug you--you little
puss--purree tuzzy--I am a senator.
_Aquil. _ You are a fool, I am sure.
_Ant. _ Maybe so too, sweetheart. Never the worse senator for
all that. Come, Nacky, Nacky, let's have a game at romp, Nacky.
_Aquil. _ You would do well, signior, to be troublesome here no
longer, but leave me to myself; be sober, and go home, sir.
_Ant. _ Home, Madonna?
_Aquil. _ Ay, home, sir. Who am I?
_Ant. _ Madonna, as I take it, you are my--you are--thou art my
little Nicky Nacky--that's all!
_Aquil. _ I find you are resolved to be troublesome; and so,
to make short of the matter in few words, I hate you, detest
you, loathe you, I am weary of you, sick of you. Hang you, you
are an old, silly, impertinent, impotent, solicitous coxcomb;
crazy in your head and lazy in your body, love to be meddling
with every thing; and if you had not money, you are good for
nothing.
_Ant. _ Good for nothing! Hurry durry, I'll try that presently.
Sixty-one years[69] old, and good for nothing! that's brave.
[_To the Maid. _] Come, come, come, Mistress Fiddle-faddle, turn
you out for a season; go, turn out, I say; it is our will and
pleasure to be private some moments--out, out when you are bid
too--[_Puts her out and locks the door. _] Good for nothing, you
say?
_Aquil. _ Why, what are you good for?
_Ant. _ In the first place, madam, I am old, and consequently
very wise, very wise, Madonna, d'ye mark that? in the second
place, take notice, if you please, that I am a senator, and
when I think fit can make speeches, Madonna. Hurry durry, I can
make a speech in the Senate-house, now and then, would make
your hair stand on end, Madonna.
_Aquil. _ What care I for your speeches in the Senate-house? If
you would be silent here, I should thank you.
_Ant. _ Why, I can make speeches to thee too, my lovely Madonna;
for example [_Takes out a purse of gold, and at every pause
shakes it_]:--
My cruel fair one, since it is my fate
That you should with your servant angry prove,
Though late at night, I hope 'tis not too late
With this to gain reception for my love.
There's for thee, my little Nicky Nacky--take it; here, take
it--I say take it, or I'll throw it at your head--how now,
rebel!
_Aquil. _ Truly, my illustrious senator, I must confess your
honour is at present most profoundly eloquent indeed.
_Ant. _ Very well: come, now let's sit down and think upon't
a little--come sit, I say--sit down by me a little, my Nicky
Nacky, hah--[_Sits down_] Hurry durry--good for nothing!
_Aquil. _ No, sir; if you please, I can know my distance and
stand.
_Ant. _ Stand: how? Nacky up, and I down! Nay, then let me
exclaim with the poet:--
Show me a case more pitiful who can,
A standing woman, and a falling man.
Hurry durry--not sit down--see this, ye gods! You won't sit
down?
_Aquil. _ No, sir.
_Ant. _ Then look you, now, suppose me a bull, a Basan-bull, the
bull of bulls, or any bull. Thus up I get, and with my brows
thus bent--I broo, I say, I broo, I broo, I broo. You won't sit
down, will you? I broo---- [_Bellows like a bull, and drives
her about. _
_Aquil. _ Well, sir; I must endure this. [_She sits_ _down. _]
Now your honour has been a bull, pray what beast will your
worship please to be next?
_Ant. _ Now I'll be a senator again, and thy lover, little Nicky
Nacky! [_He sits by her. _] Ah, toad, toad, toad, toad! spit in
my face a little, Nacky--spit in my face, pr'ythee spit in my
face, never so little: spit but a little bit--spit, spit, spit,
spit, when you are bid, I say; do, pr'ythee spit--now, now, now
spit. What, you won't spit, will you? then I'll be a dog.
_Aquil. _ A dog, my lord?
_Ant. _ Ay, a dog--and I'll give thee this t'other purse to let
me be a dog--and to use me like a dog a little. Hurry durry--I
will--here 'tis. [_Gives the purse. _
_Aquil. _ Well; with all my heart. But let me beseech your
dogship to play your tricks over as fast as you can, that you
may come to stinking the sooner, and be turned out of doors, as
you deserve.
_Ant. _ Ay, ay--no matter for that--[_He gets under the
table_]--that shan't move me--now, bough waugh waugh, bough
waugh! [_Barks like a dog. _
_Aquil. _ Hold, hold, hold, sir, I beseech you; what is't you
do? If curs bite, they must be kicked, sir. Do you see? kicked
thus.
_Ant. _ Ay, with all my heart: do, kick, kick on; now I am under
the table, kick again--kick harder--harder yet. Bough waugh
waugh, waugh, bough--odd, I'll have a snap at thy shins--bough
waugh waugh, waugh, bough--odd, she kicks bravely.
_Aquil. _ Nay then, I'll go another way to work with you; and
I think here's an instrument fit for the purpose. [_Fetches a
whip and a bell. _] What, bite your mistress, sirrah! out, out
of doors, you dog, to kennel and be hanged! Bite your mistress
by the legs, you rogue! [_She whips him. _
_Ant. _ Nay, pr'ythee Nacky, now thou art too loving: hurry
durry, odd, I'll be a dog no longer.
_Aquil. _ Nay, none of your fawning and grinning: but begone, or
here's the discipline: what, bite your mistress by the legs,
you mongrel? Out of doors--hout, hout, to kennel, sirrah! go.
_Ant. _ This is very barbarous usage, Nacky, very barbarous:
look you, I will not go--I will not stir from the door, that I
resolve--hurry durry, what, shut me out? [_She whips him out. _
_Aquil. _ Ay; and it you come here any more to-night, I'll have
my footmen lug you, you cur! What, bite your poor mistress
Nacky, sirrah?
_Enter_ Maid,
_Maid. _ Heavens, madam! what's the matter?
[_He howls at the door like a dog. _
_Aquil. _ Call my footmen hither presently.
_Enter two_ Footmen.
_Maid. _ They are here already, madam; the house is all alarmed
with a strange noise, that nobody knows what to make of.
_Aquil. _ Go all of you and turn that troublesome beast in the
next room out of my house; if I ever see him within these
walls again, without my leave for his admittance, you sneaking
rogues, I'll have you poisoned all, poisoned, like rats; every
corner of the house shall stink of one of you: go, and learn
hereafter to know my pleasure. [_Exeunt_ Footmen _and_ Maid. ]
So, now for my Pierre:
Thus when the godlike lover was displeased,
We sacrifice our fool, and he's appeased. [_Exit. _
[Illustration]
SCENE II. --_Another Room in the same. _
_Enter_ BELVIDERA.
_Belv. _ I'm sacrificed! I'm sold! betrayed to shame!
Inevitable ruin has inclosed me!
No sooner was I to my bed repaired,
To weigh and (weeping) ponder my condition,
But the old hoary wretch, to whose false care
My peace and honour was entrusted came,
Like Tarquin, ghastly with infernal lust.
O thou Roman Lucrece!
Thou couldst find friends to vindicate thy wrong;
I never had but one, and he's proved false;
He that should guard my virtue, has betrayed it;
Left me! undone me! oh, that I could hate him!
Where shall I go? oh, whither, whither wander?
_Enter_ JAFFIER.
_Jaff. _ Can Belvidera want a resting-place,
When these poor arms are open to receive her?
Oh, 'tis in vain to struggle with desires
Strong as my love to thee; for every moment
I'm from thy sight, the heart within my bosom
Moans like a tender infant in its cradle,
Whose nurse had left it: come, and with the songs
Of gentle love, persuade it to its peace.
_Belv. _ I fear the stubborn wanderer will not own me;
'Tis grown a rebel to be ruled no longer,
Scorns the indulgent bosom that first lulled it;
And, like a disobedient child, disdains
The soft authority of Belvidera.
_Jaff. _ There was a time--
_Belv. _ Yes, yes, there was a time
When Belvidera's tears, her cries, and sorrows,
Were not despised; when if she chanced to sigh,
Or look but sad--there was indeed a time
When Jaffier would have ta'en her in his arms,
Eased her declining head upon his breast,
And never left her till he found the cause.
But let her now weep seas,
Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst
Her heart asunder; still he bears it all,
Deaf as the wind, and as the rocks unshaken.
_Jaff. _ Have I been deaf? am I that rock unmoved,
Against whose root tears beat, and sighs are sent
In vain? have I beheld thy sorrows calmly?
Witness against me, Heavens, have I done this?
Then bear me in a whirlwind back again,
And let that angry dear one ne'er forgive me!
Oh, thou too rashly censurest[70] of my love!
Couldst thou but think how I have spent this night,
Dark and alone, no pillow to my head,
Rest in my eyes, nor quiet in my heart,
Thou wouldst not, Belvidera, sure thou wouldst not
Talk to me thus; but like a pitying angel,
Spreading thy wings, come settle on my breast,
And hatch warm comfort there, ere sorrows freeze it.
_Belv. _ Why then, poor mourner, in what baleful corner
Hast thou been talking with that witch the Night?
On what cold stone hast thou been stretched along,
Gathering the grumbling winds about thy head,
To mix with theirs the accents of thy woes?
Oh, now I find the cause my love forsakes me!
I am no longer fit to bear a share
In his concernments: my weak female virtue
Must not be trusted; 'tis too frail and tender.
_Jaff. _ O Portia! Portia! what a soul was thine!
_Belv. _ That Portia was a woman; and when Brutus,
Big with the fate of Rome--Heaven guard thy safety! --
Concealed from her the labours of his mind,
She let him see her blood was great as his,
Flowed from a spring as noble, and a heart
Fit to partake his troubles as his love.
Fetch, fetch that dagger back, the dreadful dower
Thou gavest last night in parting with me; strike it
Here to my heart; and as the blood flows from it,
Judge if it run not pure as Cato's daughter's.
_Jaff. _ Thou art too good, and I indeed unworthy,
Unworthy so much virtue: teach me how
I may deserve such matchless love as thine,
And see with what attention I'll obey thee.
_Belv. _ Do not despise me: that's the all I ask.
_Jaff. _ Despise thee! hear me--
_Belv. _ Oh, thy charming tongue
Is but too well acquainted with my weakness;
Knows, let it name but love, my melting heart
Dissolves within my breast; till with closed eyes
I reel into thy arms, and all's forgotten.
_Jaff. _ What shall I do?
_Belv. _ Tell me--be just, and tell me,
Why dwells that busy cloud upon thy face?
Why am I made a stranger? why that sigh,
And I not know the cause? why when the world
Is wrapped in rest, why chooses then my love
To wander up and down in horrid darkness,
Loathing his bed, and these desiring arms?
Why are these eyes blood-shot with tedious watching?
Why starts he now, and looks as if he wished
His fate were finished? Tell me, ease my fear,
Lest, when we next time meet, I want the power
To search into the sickness of thy mind,
But talk as wildly then as thou look'st now.
_Jaff. _ O Belvidera!
_Belv. _ Why was I last night
Delivered to a villain?
_Jaff. _ Ha, a villain!
_Belv. _ Yes! to a villain! Why at such an hour
Meets that assembly, all made up of wretches
That look as hell had drawn them into league?
Why, I in this hand, and in that a dagger,
Was I delivered with such dreadful ceremonies? --
"To you, sirs, and your honour, I bequeath her,
And with her this: whene'er I prove unworthy--
You know the rest--then strike it to her heart! "
Oh! why's that "rest" concealed from me? Must I
Be made the hostage of a hellish trust? --
For such I know I am; that's all my value!
But by the love and loyalty I owe thee,
I'll free thee from the bondage of these slaves;
Straight to the Senate, tell them all I know,
All that I think, all that my fears inform me!
_Jaff. _ Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus?
_Belv. _ No;
For Brutus trusted her: wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?
_Jaff. _ I shall undo myself, and tell thee all.
_Belv. _ Look not upon me as I am a woman,
But as a bone, thy wife, thy friend, who long
Has had admission to thy heart, and there
Studied the virtues of thy gallant nature:
Thy constancy, thy courage, and thy truth,
Have been my daily lesson; I have learnt them,
Am bold as thou, can suffer or despise
The worst of fates for thee; and with thee share them.
_Jaff. _ Oh, you divinest powers! look down and hear
My prayers! instruct me to reward this virtue!
Yet think a little, ere thou tempt me further;
Think I've a tale to tell will shake thy nature,
Melt all this boasted constancy thou talk'st of,
Into vile tears and despicable sorrows:
Then if thou shouldst betray me!
_Belv. _ Shall I swear?
_Jaff. _ No; do not swear,--I would not violate
Thy tender nature with so rude a bond,--
But as thou hopest to see me live my days,
And love thee long, lock this within thy breast:--
I've bound myself by all the strictest sacraments,
Divine and human--
_Belv. _ Speak!
_Jaff. _ To kill thy father.
_Belv. _ My father!
_Jaff. _ Nay, the throats of the whole Senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera: he amongst us
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damned. How rich and beauteous will the face
Of ruin look, when these wide streets run blood,
I and the glorious partners of my fortune
Shouting, and striding o'er the prostrate dead,
Still to new waste; whilst thou, far off in safety
Smiling, shall see the wonders of our daring;
And when night comes, with praise and love receive me!
_Belv. _ Oh!
_Jaff. _ Have a care, and shrink not, even in thought!
For if thou dost--
_Belv. _ I know it, thou wilt kill me.
Do, strike thy sword into this bosom: lay me
Dead on the earth, and then thou wilt be safe.
Murder my father! though his cruel nature
Has persecuted me to my undoing,
Driven me to basest wants, can I behold him,
With smiles of vengeance, butchered in his age?
The sacred fountain of my life destroyed?
And canst thou shed the blood that gave me being?
Nay, be a traitor too, and sell thy country?
Can thy great heart descend so vilely low,
Mix with hired slaves, bravos, and common stabbers,
Nose-slitters, alley-lurking villains--join
With such a crew, and take a ruffian's wages,
To cut the throats of wretches as they sleep?
_Jaff. _ Thou wrong'st me, Belvidera! I've engaged
With men of souls, fit to reform the ills
Of all mankind: there's not a heart amongst them,
But's stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashions.
_Belv. _ What's he to whose cursed hands last night thou gavest me?
Was that well done? Oh! I could tell a story
Would rouse thy lion-heart out of its den,
And make it rage with terrifying fury.
_Jaff. _ Speak on, I charge thee!
_Belv. _ O my love! if e'er
Thy Belvidera's peace deserved thy care,
Remove me from this place--last night, last night!
_Jaff. _ Distract me not, but give me all the truth.
_Belv. _ No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the power of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I lain on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approached me, loose, unbuttoned,
Ready for violation: then my heart
Throbbed with its fears: oh, how I wept and sighed,
And shrunk and trembled, wished in vain for him
That should protect me! Thou, alas! wert gone.
_Jaff. _ Patience, sweet Heaven! till I make vengeance sure.
_Belv. _ He drew the hideous dagger forth thou gavest him,
And with upbraiding smiles, he said, "Behold it;
This is the pledge of a false husband's love":
And in my arms then pressed, and would have clasped me;
But with my cries I scared his coward-heart,
Till he withdrew, and muttered vows to hell.
These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour,
Thy love, all's staked, and all will go to ruin!
_Jaff. _ No more: I charge thee keep this secret close;
Clear up thy sorrows, look as if thy wrongs
Were all forgot, and treat him like a friend,
As no complaint were made. No more; retire,
Retire, my life, and doubt not of my honour;
I'll heal its failings and deserve thy love.
_Belv. _ Oh, should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.
_Jaff. _ Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.
_Belv. _ When shall we meet again?
_Jaff. _ Anon, at twelve:
I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms,
Come like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace.
_Belv. _ Indeed?
_Jaff. _ By all our loves!
_Belv. _ 'Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly.
Farewell--remember twelve. [_Exit. _
_Jaff. _ Let Heaven forget me
When I remember not thy truth, thy love.
How cursed is my condition! tossed and justled
From every corner; fortune's common fool,
The jest of rogues, an instrumental ass
For villains to lay loads of shame upon,
And drive about just for their ease and scorn.
_Enter_ PIERRE.
_Pier. _ Jaffier!
_Jaff. _ Who calls?
_Pier. _ A friend, that could have wished
To have found thee otherwise employed: what, hunt
A wife on the dull foil! sure a staunch husband
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never be weaned from caudles and confections?
What feminine tale hast thou been listening to
Of unaired shirts, catarrhs and toothache got
By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! that a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners
To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind!
_Jaff. _ May not a man then trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong his calling?
_Pier. _ Not in a cause like ours.
_Jaff. _ Then, friend, our cause
Is in a damned condition: for I'll tell thee,
That canker-worm called lechery has touched it;
'Tis tainted vilely. Wouldst thou think it, Renault.
(That mortified, old, withered, winter-rogue)
Loves simple fornication like a priest?
I found him out for watering at my wife:
He visited her last night, like a kind guardian.
Faith, she has some temptations, that's the truth on't.
_Pier. _ He durst not wrong his trust?
_Jaff. _ 'Twas something late, though,
To take the freedom of a lady's chamber.
_Pier. _ Was she in bed?
_Jaff. _ Yes, faith, in virgin sheets
White as her bosom, Pierre, dished neatly up,
Might tempt a weaker appetite to taste.
Oh, how the old fox stunk, I warrant thee,
When the rank fit was on him!
_Pier. _ Patience guide me!
He used no violence?
_Jaff. _ No, no! out on't, violence!
Played with her neck, brushed her with his gray beard,
Struggled and towzed, tickled her till she squeaked a little,
May be, or so--but not a jot of violence.
_Pier. _ Damn him!
_Jaff. _ Ay, so say I: but hush, no more on't;
All hitherto is well, and I believe
Myself no monster,[71] yet: though no man knows
What fate he's born to. Sure 'tis near the hour
We all should meet for our concluding orders.
Will the ambassador be here in person?
_Pier. _ No; he has sent commission to that villain,
Renault, to give the executing charge;
I'd have thee be a man, if possible,
And keep thy temper; for a brave revenge
Ne'er comes too late.
_Jaff. _ Fear not, I'm cool as patience:
Had he completed my dishonour, rather
Than hazard the success our hopes are ripe for,
I'd bear it all with mortifying virtue.
_Pier. _ He's yonder coming this way through the hall;
His thoughts seem full.
_Jaff. _ Pr'ythee retire, and leave me
With him alone: I'll put him to some trial,
See how his rotten part will bear the touching.
_Pier. _ Be careful then. [_Exit. _
_Jaff. _ Nay, never doubt, but trust me. --
What, be a devil! take a damning oath
For shedding native blood! can there be a sin
In merciful repentance? O this villain!
_Enter_ RENAULT.
_Ren. _ Perverse! and peevish! what a slave is man,
To let his itching flesh thus get the better of him!
[_Exeunt_ RENAULT, BEDAMAR, _and_
BELVIDERA.
_Jaff. _ O my eyes,
Look not that way, but turn yourselves awhile
Into my heart, and be weaned altogether!
My friend, where art thou?
_Pier. _ Here, my honour's brother.
_Jaff. _ Is Belvidera gone?
_Pier. _ Renault has led her
Back to her own apartment: but, by Heaven!
Thou must not see her more till our work's over.
_Jaff. _ No?
_Pier. _ Not for your life.
_Jaff. _ O Pierre! wert thou but she,
How I could pull thee down into my heart,
Gaze on thee till my eye-strings cracked with love,
Till all my sinews, with its fire extended,
Fixed me upon the rack of ardent longing!
Then swelling, sighing, raging to be blest,
Come like a panting turtle to thy breast;
On thy soft bosom hovering, bill and play,
Confess the cause why last I fled away,
Own 'twas a fault, but swear to give it o'er,
And never follow false ambition more. [_Exeunt. _
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[65] A reference to the story in Petronius on which Chapman founded his
_Widow's Tears_.
[66] _i. e. _ Shut up.
[67] A word of two syllables, as in Shakespeare.
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I. --_A Room in_ AQUILINA'S _House_.
_Enter_ AQUILINA _and her_ Maid.
_Aquil. _ Tell him I am gone to bed: tell him I am not at home:
tell him I've better company with me, or anything; tell him, in
short, I will not see him, the eternal troublesome vexatious
fool; he's worse company than an ignorant physician. I'll not
be disturbed at these unseasonable hours.
_Maid. _ But, madam, he's here already, just entered the doors.
_Aquil. _ Turn him out again, you unnecessary, useless,
giddy-brained ass! If he will not be gone, set the house
a-fire, and burn us both: I had rather meet a toad in my dish
than that old hideous animal in my chamber to-night.
_Enter_ ANTONIO. [68]
_Ant. _ Nacky, Nacky, Nacky--how dost do, Nacky? Hurry durry!
I am come, little Nacky; past eleven o'clock, a late hour;
time in all conscience to go to bed, Nacky--Nacky did I say?
Ay, Nacky; Aquilina, lina, lina, quilina, quilina, quilina,
Aquilina, Naquilina, Naquilina, Acky, Acky, Nacky, Nacky, queen
Nacky--come, let's to bed--you fubbs, you pug you--you little
puss--purree tuzzy--I am a senator.
_Aquil. _ You are a fool, I am sure.
_Ant. _ Maybe so too, sweetheart. Never the worse senator for
all that. Come, Nacky, Nacky, let's have a game at romp, Nacky.
_Aquil. _ You would do well, signior, to be troublesome here no
longer, but leave me to myself; be sober, and go home, sir.
_Ant. _ Home, Madonna?
_Aquil. _ Ay, home, sir. Who am I?
_Ant. _ Madonna, as I take it, you are my--you are--thou art my
little Nicky Nacky--that's all!
_Aquil. _ I find you are resolved to be troublesome; and so,
to make short of the matter in few words, I hate you, detest
you, loathe you, I am weary of you, sick of you. Hang you, you
are an old, silly, impertinent, impotent, solicitous coxcomb;
crazy in your head and lazy in your body, love to be meddling
with every thing; and if you had not money, you are good for
nothing.
_Ant. _ Good for nothing! Hurry durry, I'll try that presently.
Sixty-one years[69] old, and good for nothing! that's brave.
[_To the Maid. _] Come, come, come, Mistress Fiddle-faddle, turn
you out for a season; go, turn out, I say; it is our will and
pleasure to be private some moments--out, out when you are bid
too--[_Puts her out and locks the door. _] Good for nothing, you
say?
_Aquil. _ Why, what are you good for?
_Ant. _ In the first place, madam, I am old, and consequently
very wise, very wise, Madonna, d'ye mark that? in the second
place, take notice, if you please, that I am a senator, and
when I think fit can make speeches, Madonna. Hurry durry, I can
make a speech in the Senate-house, now and then, would make
your hair stand on end, Madonna.
_Aquil. _ What care I for your speeches in the Senate-house? If
you would be silent here, I should thank you.
_Ant. _ Why, I can make speeches to thee too, my lovely Madonna;
for example [_Takes out a purse of gold, and at every pause
shakes it_]:--
My cruel fair one, since it is my fate
That you should with your servant angry prove,
Though late at night, I hope 'tis not too late
With this to gain reception for my love.
There's for thee, my little Nicky Nacky--take it; here, take
it--I say take it, or I'll throw it at your head--how now,
rebel!
_Aquil. _ Truly, my illustrious senator, I must confess your
honour is at present most profoundly eloquent indeed.
_Ant. _ Very well: come, now let's sit down and think upon't
a little--come sit, I say--sit down by me a little, my Nicky
Nacky, hah--[_Sits down_] Hurry durry--good for nothing!
_Aquil. _ No, sir; if you please, I can know my distance and
stand.
_Ant. _ Stand: how? Nacky up, and I down! Nay, then let me
exclaim with the poet:--
Show me a case more pitiful who can,
A standing woman, and a falling man.
Hurry durry--not sit down--see this, ye gods! You won't sit
down?
_Aquil. _ No, sir.
_Ant. _ Then look you, now, suppose me a bull, a Basan-bull, the
bull of bulls, or any bull. Thus up I get, and with my brows
thus bent--I broo, I say, I broo, I broo, I broo. You won't sit
down, will you? I broo---- [_Bellows like a bull, and drives
her about. _
_Aquil. _ Well, sir; I must endure this. [_She sits_ _down. _]
Now your honour has been a bull, pray what beast will your
worship please to be next?
_Ant. _ Now I'll be a senator again, and thy lover, little Nicky
Nacky! [_He sits by her. _] Ah, toad, toad, toad, toad! spit in
my face a little, Nacky--spit in my face, pr'ythee spit in my
face, never so little: spit but a little bit--spit, spit, spit,
spit, when you are bid, I say; do, pr'ythee spit--now, now, now
spit. What, you won't spit, will you? then I'll be a dog.
_Aquil. _ A dog, my lord?
_Ant. _ Ay, a dog--and I'll give thee this t'other purse to let
me be a dog--and to use me like a dog a little. Hurry durry--I
will--here 'tis. [_Gives the purse. _
_Aquil. _ Well; with all my heart. But let me beseech your
dogship to play your tricks over as fast as you can, that you
may come to stinking the sooner, and be turned out of doors, as
you deserve.
_Ant. _ Ay, ay--no matter for that--[_He gets under the
table_]--that shan't move me--now, bough waugh waugh, bough
waugh! [_Barks like a dog. _
_Aquil. _ Hold, hold, hold, sir, I beseech you; what is't you
do? If curs bite, they must be kicked, sir. Do you see? kicked
thus.
_Ant. _ Ay, with all my heart: do, kick, kick on; now I am under
the table, kick again--kick harder--harder yet. Bough waugh
waugh, waugh, bough--odd, I'll have a snap at thy shins--bough
waugh waugh, waugh, bough--odd, she kicks bravely.
_Aquil. _ Nay then, I'll go another way to work with you; and
I think here's an instrument fit for the purpose. [_Fetches a
whip and a bell. _] What, bite your mistress, sirrah! out, out
of doors, you dog, to kennel and be hanged! Bite your mistress
by the legs, you rogue! [_She whips him. _
_Ant. _ Nay, pr'ythee Nacky, now thou art too loving: hurry
durry, odd, I'll be a dog no longer.
_Aquil. _ Nay, none of your fawning and grinning: but begone, or
here's the discipline: what, bite your mistress by the legs,
you mongrel? Out of doors--hout, hout, to kennel, sirrah! go.
_Ant. _ This is very barbarous usage, Nacky, very barbarous:
look you, I will not go--I will not stir from the door, that I
resolve--hurry durry, what, shut me out? [_She whips him out. _
_Aquil. _ Ay; and it you come here any more to-night, I'll have
my footmen lug you, you cur! What, bite your poor mistress
Nacky, sirrah?
_Enter_ Maid,
_Maid. _ Heavens, madam! what's the matter?
[_He howls at the door like a dog. _
_Aquil. _ Call my footmen hither presently.
_Enter two_ Footmen.
_Maid. _ They are here already, madam; the house is all alarmed
with a strange noise, that nobody knows what to make of.
_Aquil. _ Go all of you and turn that troublesome beast in the
next room out of my house; if I ever see him within these
walls again, without my leave for his admittance, you sneaking
rogues, I'll have you poisoned all, poisoned, like rats; every
corner of the house shall stink of one of you: go, and learn
hereafter to know my pleasure. [_Exeunt_ Footmen _and_ Maid. ]
So, now for my Pierre:
Thus when the godlike lover was displeased,
We sacrifice our fool, and he's appeased. [_Exit. _
[Illustration]
SCENE II. --_Another Room in the same. _
_Enter_ BELVIDERA.
_Belv. _ I'm sacrificed! I'm sold! betrayed to shame!
Inevitable ruin has inclosed me!
No sooner was I to my bed repaired,
To weigh and (weeping) ponder my condition,
But the old hoary wretch, to whose false care
My peace and honour was entrusted came,
Like Tarquin, ghastly with infernal lust.
O thou Roman Lucrece!
Thou couldst find friends to vindicate thy wrong;
I never had but one, and he's proved false;
He that should guard my virtue, has betrayed it;
Left me! undone me! oh, that I could hate him!
Where shall I go? oh, whither, whither wander?
_Enter_ JAFFIER.
_Jaff. _ Can Belvidera want a resting-place,
When these poor arms are open to receive her?
Oh, 'tis in vain to struggle with desires
Strong as my love to thee; for every moment
I'm from thy sight, the heart within my bosom
Moans like a tender infant in its cradle,
Whose nurse had left it: come, and with the songs
Of gentle love, persuade it to its peace.
_Belv. _ I fear the stubborn wanderer will not own me;
'Tis grown a rebel to be ruled no longer,
Scorns the indulgent bosom that first lulled it;
And, like a disobedient child, disdains
The soft authority of Belvidera.
_Jaff. _ There was a time--
_Belv. _ Yes, yes, there was a time
When Belvidera's tears, her cries, and sorrows,
Were not despised; when if she chanced to sigh,
Or look but sad--there was indeed a time
When Jaffier would have ta'en her in his arms,
Eased her declining head upon his breast,
And never left her till he found the cause.
But let her now weep seas,
Cry till she rend the earth, sigh till she burst
Her heart asunder; still he bears it all,
Deaf as the wind, and as the rocks unshaken.
_Jaff. _ Have I been deaf? am I that rock unmoved,
Against whose root tears beat, and sighs are sent
In vain? have I beheld thy sorrows calmly?
Witness against me, Heavens, have I done this?
Then bear me in a whirlwind back again,
And let that angry dear one ne'er forgive me!
Oh, thou too rashly censurest[70] of my love!
Couldst thou but think how I have spent this night,
Dark and alone, no pillow to my head,
Rest in my eyes, nor quiet in my heart,
Thou wouldst not, Belvidera, sure thou wouldst not
Talk to me thus; but like a pitying angel,
Spreading thy wings, come settle on my breast,
And hatch warm comfort there, ere sorrows freeze it.
_Belv. _ Why then, poor mourner, in what baleful corner
Hast thou been talking with that witch the Night?
On what cold stone hast thou been stretched along,
Gathering the grumbling winds about thy head,
To mix with theirs the accents of thy woes?
Oh, now I find the cause my love forsakes me!
I am no longer fit to bear a share
In his concernments: my weak female virtue
Must not be trusted; 'tis too frail and tender.
_Jaff. _ O Portia! Portia! what a soul was thine!
_Belv. _ That Portia was a woman; and when Brutus,
Big with the fate of Rome--Heaven guard thy safety! --
Concealed from her the labours of his mind,
She let him see her blood was great as his,
Flowed from a spring as noble, and a heart
Fit to partake his troubles as his love.
Fetch, fetch that dagger back, the dreadful dower
Thou gavest last night in parting with me; strike it
Here to my heart; and as the blood flows from it,
Judge if it run not pure as Cato's daughter's.
_Jaff. _ Thou art too good, and I indeed unworthy,
Unworthy so much virtue: teach me how
I may deserve such matchless love as thine,
And see with what attention I'll obey thee.
_Belv. _ Do not despise me: that's the all I ask.
_Jaff. _ Despise thee! hear me--
_Belv. _ Oh, thy charming tongue
Is but too well acquainted with my weakness;
Knows, let it name but love, my melting heart
Dissolves within my breast; till with closed eyes
I reel into thy arms, and all's forgotten.
_Jaff. _ What shall I do?
_Belv. _ Tell me--be just, and tell me,
Why dwells that busy cloud upon thy face?
Why am I made a stranger? why that sigh,
And I not know the cause? why when the world
Is wrapped in rest, why chooses then my love
To wander up and down in horrid darkness,
Loathing his bed, and these desiring arms?
Why are these eyes blood-shot with tedious watching?
Why starts he now, and looks as if he wished
His fate were finished? Tell me, ease my fear,
Lest, when we next time meet, I want the power
To search into the sickness of thy mind,
But talk as wildly then as thou look'st now.
_Jaff. _ O Belvidera!
_Belv. _ Why was I last night
Delivered to a villain?
_Jaff. _ Ha, a villain!
_Belv. _ Yes! to a villain! Why at such an hour
Meets that assembly, all made up of wretches
That look as hell had drawn them into league?
Why, I in this hand, and in that a dagger,
Was I delivered with such dreadful ceremonies? --
"To you, sirs, and your honour, I bequeath her,
And with her this: whene'er I prove unworthy--
You know the rest--then strike it to her heart! "
Oh! why's that "rest" concealed from me? Must I
Be made the hostage of a hellish trust? --
For such I know I am; that's all my value!
But by the love and loyalty I owe thee,
I'll free thee from the bondage of these slaves;
Straight to the Senate, tell them all I know,
All that I think, all that my fears inform me!
_Jaff. _ Is this the Roman virtue? this the blood
That boasts its purity with Cato's daughter?
Would she have e'er betrayed her Brutus?
_Belv. _ No;
For Brutus trusted her: wert thou so kind,
What would not Belvidera suffer for thee?
_Jaff. _ I shall undo myself, and tell thee all.
_Belv. _ Look not upon me as I am a woman,
But as a bone, thy wife, thy friend, who long
Has had admission to thy heart, and there
Studied the virtues of thy gallant nature:
Thy constancy, thy courage, and thy truth,
Have been my daily lesson; I have learnt them,
Am bold as thou, can suffer or despise
The worst of fates for thee; and with thee share them.
_Jaff. _ Oh, you divinest powers! look down and hear
My prayers! instruct me to reward this virtue!
Yet think a little, ere thou tempt me further;
Think I've a tale to tell will shake thy nature,
Melt all this boasted constancy thou talk'st of,
Into vile tears and despicable sorrows:
Then if thou shouldst betray me!
_Belv. _ Shall I swear?
_Jaff. _ No; do not swear,--I would not violate
Thy tender nature with so rude a bond,--
But as thou hopest to see me live my days,
And love thee long, lock this within thy breast:--
I've bound myself by all the strictest sacraments,
Divine and human--
_Belv. _ Speak!
_Jaff. _ To kill thy father.
_Belv. _ My father!
_Jaff. _ Nay, the throats of the whole Senate
Shall bleed, my Belvidera: he amongst us
That spares his father, brother, or his friend,
Is damned. How rich and beauteous will the face
Of ruin look, when these wide streets run blood,
I and the glorious partners of my fortune
Shouting, and striding o'er the prostrate dead,
Still to new waste; whilst thou, far off in safety
Smiling, shall see the wonders of our daring;
And when night comes, with praise and love receive me!
_Belv. _ Oh!
_Jaff. _ Have a care, and shrink not, even in thought!
For if thou dost--
_Belv. _ I know it, thou wilt kill me.
Do, strike thy sword into this bosom: lay me
Dead on the earth, and then thou wilt be safe.
Murder my father! though his cruel nature
Has persecuted me to my undoing,
Driven me to basest wants, can I behold him,
With smiles of vengeance, butchered in his age?
The sacred fountain of my life destroyed?
And canst thou shed the blood that gave me being?
Nay, be a traitor too, and sell thy country?
Can thy great heart descend so vilely low,
Mix with hired slaves, bravos, and common stabbers,
Nose-slitters, alley-lurking villains--join
With such a crew, and take a ruffian's wages,
To cut the throats of wretches as they sleep?
_Jaff. _ Thou wrong'st me, Belvidera! I've engaged
With men of souls, fit to reform the ills
Of all mankind: there's not a heart amongst them,
But's stout as death, yet honest as the nature
Of man first made, ere fraud and vice were fashions.
_Belv. _ What's he to whose cursed hands last night thou gavest me?
Was that well done? Oh! I could tell a story
Would rouse thy lion-heart out of its den,
And make it rage with terrifying fury.
_Jaff. _ Speak on, I charge thee!
_Belv. _ O my love! if e'er
Thy Belvidera's peace deserved thy care,
Remove me from this place--last night, last night!
_Jaff. _ Distract me not, but give me all the truth.
_Belv. _ No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the power of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I lain on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approached me, loose, unbuttoned,
Ready for violation: then my heart
Throbbed with its fears: oh, how I wept and sighed,
And shrunk and trembled, wished in vain for him
That should protect me! Thou, alas! wert gone.
_Jaff. _ Patience, sweet Heaven! till I make vengeance sure.
_Belv. _ He drew the hideous dagger forth thou gavest him,
And with upbraiding smiles, he said, "Behold it;
This is the pledge of a false husband's love":
And in my arms then pressed, and would have clasped me;
But with my cries I scared his coward-heart,
Till he withdrew, and muttered vows to hell.
These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour,
Thy love, all's staked, and all will go to ruin!
_Jaff. _ No more: I charge thee keep this secret close;
Clear up thy sorrows, look as if thy wrongs
Were all forgot, and treat him like a friend,
As no complaint were made. No more; retire,
Retire, my life, and doubt not of my honour;
I'll heal its failings and deserve thy love.
_Belv. _ Oh, should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.
_Jaff. _ Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.
_Belv. _ When shall we meet again?
_Jaff. _ Anon, at twelve:
I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms,
Come like a travelled dove, and bring thee peace.
_Belv. _ Indeed?
_Jaff. _ By all our loves!
_Belv. _ 'Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever looked so fairly.
Farewell--remember twelve. [_Exit. _
_Jaff. _ Let Heaven forget me
When I remember not thy truth, thy love.
How cursed is my condition! tossed and justled
From every corner; fortune's common fool,
The jest of rogues, an instrumental ass
For villains to lay loads of shame upon,
And drive about just for their ease and scorn.
_Enter_ PIERRE.
_Pier. _ Jaffier!
_Jaff. _ Who calls?
_Pier. _ A friend, that could have wished
To have found thee otherwise employed: what, hunt
A wife on the dull foil! sure a staunch husband
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never be weaned from caudles and confections?
What feminine tale hast thou been listening to
Of unaired shirts, catarrhs and toothache got
By thin-soled shoes? Damnation! that a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus in corners
To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind!
_Jaff. _ May not a man then trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong his calling?
_Pier. _ Not in a cause like ours.
_Jaff. _ Then, friend, our cause
Is in a damned condition: for I'll tell thee,
That canker-worm called lechery has touched it;
'Tis tainted vilely. Wouldst thou think it, Renault.
(That mortified, old, withered, winter-rogue)
Loves simple fornication like a priest?
I found him out for watering at my wife:
He visited her last night, like a kind guardian.
Faith, she has some temptations, that's the truth on't.
_Pier. _ He durst not wrong his trust?
_Jaff. _ 'Twas something late, though,
To take the freedom of a lady's chamber.
_Pier. _ Was she in bed?
_Jaff. _ Yes, faith, in virgin sheets
White as her bosom, Pierre, dished neatly up,
Might tempt a weaker appetite to taste.
Oh, how the old fox stunk, I warrant thee,
When the rank fit was on him!
_Pier. _ Patience guide me!
He used no violence?
_Jaff. _ No, no! out on't, violence!
Played with her neck, brushed her with his gray beard,
Struggled and towzed, tickled her till she squeaked a little,
May be, or so--but not a jot of violence.
_Pier. _ Damn him!
_Jaff. _ Ay, so say I: but hush, no more on't;
All hitherto is well, and I believe
Myself no monster,[71] yet: though no man knows
What fate he's born to. Sure 'tis near the hour
We all should meet for our concluding orders.
Will the ambassador be here in person?
_Pier. _ No; he has sent commission to that villain,
Renault, to give the executing charge;
I'd have thee be a man, if possible,
And keep thy temper; for a brave revenge
Ne'er comes too late.
_Jaff. _ Fear not, I'm cool as patience:
Had he completed my dishonour, rather
Than hazard the success our hopes are ripe for,
I'd bear it all with mortifying virtue.
_Pier. _ He's yonder coming this way through the hall;
His thoughts seem full.
_Jaff. _ Pr'ythee retire, and leave me
With him alone: I'll put him to some trial,
See how his rotten part will bear the touching.
_Pier. _ Be careful then. [_Exit. _
_Jaff. _ Nay, never doubt, but trust me. --
What, be a devil! take a damning oath
For shedding native blood! can there be a sin
In merciful repentance? O this villain!
_Enter_ RENAULT.
_Ren. _ Perverse! and peevish! what a slave is man,
To let his itching flesh thus get the better of him!
