Robert Dodsley

“ Turning to Don Octavio. Exeunt Diego and Flora.
Don O. I'm now upon the frontiers of this life,
There's but one step to immortality;
And, since my cruel fortune has allow'd me
No other witness of my tragic end
But a false friend and barbarous enemy,
I'll leave my genius to inform the world
My life and death was uniform: as I
Liv'd firm to love and honour, so I die. ”

“ Yet, methinks,
A man that boasts such principles of honour,
And of such force to sway him in his actions,
In spite of all resentments, should reflect,
That honour does oblige to a suspense,
At least of judgment, when surprising chances,
Yet uninquired into, tempt gallant men
To prejudicial thoughts of those with whom
They had settled friendship upon virtuous grounds.
But 'tis from Heav'n, I see, and not from you,
Elvira must expect her vindication;
And until then submit to th' hardest fate
That ever can befall a generous spirit—
Of being oblig'd by him that injures her. ”

“ Don Pedro in his aims, and to comply
With what I owe the duke, I see as little;
And less conceive, how to behave myself,
As ought a gentleman towards a lady,
With whose protection he hath charg'd himself,
And brought her to his house on that assurance;
Whom to expose cannot consist with honour,
However she may have expos'd her own;
And (least of all) how to repair to Blanca
The injury I have done her, whose high spirit,
I fear, will be implacable. O heavens! ”

“ You, I presume, sir, would be one o' th' latest,
Which I should hear of; yet 'tis possible
That one might see you before you should be
Welcome.
Diego. She has wit and good-humour, excellent
Ingredients to pass away the time;
And I have kindness for her person too;
But that will end with marriage, and possibly
Her good-humour; for I have seldom known
The husband and the wife make any music,
Though when asunder they can play their parts. ”

“ Enter Don Octavio and Diego.
Don O. Come, Diego, 'tis now time to quit our dens,
And to begin our chase.
Diego. Of what, sir? bats or owls, now the sun's set?
Call you this making of love? why, methinks,
'Tis more like making of war: marching all night
In arms, as if we design'd to beat up
The enemy's quarters.
Don O. Why, would not you venture as much for Flora?
Diego. No, in good faith, sir; I shall venture enough,
If e'er I marry her: I'll run no hazard
By my good-will beforehand.
Don O. That's from your fear, not prudence, Diego.
Diego. Sir, you may call it what you please ”

“ Claud. Play not yourself into a shame will rūst your brightest
Worths, and hide your dust in curses and black fame:
I now shall think your valour flatter'd, that can
Sink it to such effeminate and lovesick crafts,
For our stale women to mollify the usher with.
Dessandro has a fame, high and active as the voice
It flies on; and could you wander from your
Religious self in such a dream as this?
Cleara's virtue has an interest near your heart,
Should wake you to your first man again. ”

“ Don O. Honour makes me refuse your aid; we must
As well to friends as to ourselves be just.
Don A. He ought not to pretend to friendship's name,
Who reckons not himself and friend the same.
Don O. Friendship with justice must not disagree,
That were to break the virtue's harmony.
Don A. Friendship is justice; for whene'er we give,
We then receive: so 'tis commutative.
Don O. So great's your friendship, you your friend oppress:
To make it juster, you must make it less.
Don A. Friendship can never err in the extent:
Like Nile, when't overflows, 'tis most beneficent. ”

“ The Corregidor receives the sword, and gives it to the hands of his Sergeants.
Pray call for't, sir, as soon as you come home,
And hang't up in your hall, then underwrite,
This is bold Diego's sword. O, may it be
Ever from rust, as 'tis from slaughter, free!
Cor. Thou art a fellow of a pleasant humour.
Diego. Faith, sir, I never pain myself for love,
Or fame, or riches; nor do I pretend
To that great subtlety of sense, to feel
Before I'm hurt; and for the most part
I keep myself out of harm's way.
Don C. The definition of a philosopher! ”

“ Diego. The first I may pretend to, for I swear
I do not wish to part: 'tis true, I fear.
[Pg 298]
Don O. Fear! why, death's only cruel when she flies,
And will not deign to close the weeping eyes.
Diego. That is a cruelty I can forgive,
For I confess I'm not afraid to live.
Don O. We shall still live, though 'tis by others' breath—
By our good fame, which is secur'd by death.
Diego. But we shall catch such colds, sir, under ground,
That we shall never hear Fame's trumpet sound. ”

“ In metre, as Druids did the savages?
Affront the freeborn vices of the nation?
And bring dull virtue into reputation?
Virtue! would any man of common sense
Pretend to't? why, virtue now is impudence;
And such another modest play would blast
Our new stage, and put your palates out of taste.
We told him, Sir, 'tis whisper'd in the pit
This may be common sense, but 'tis not wit;
That has a flaming spirit, and stirs the blood
That's bawdry, said he, if rightly understood;
Which our late poets make their chiefest tasks,
As if they writ only to th' vizard-masks. ”

“ Art. Wou'd nature then had made me so, or else
Had given me never a heart.
Duke. What wou'dst
Thou have me do, poor Artabella?
Art. Nothing
But love me, sir.
Duke. See, what thou doest ask
A man, a god wou'd do; and yet I can't;
'Tis not thy want of beauty, but my fate.
Angels themselves, to look upon thy face,
Wou'd take a journey twice a day from heaven.
Art. If you would come, though far a shorter way,
You shou'd be much more welcome.
Duke. ”

“ Ortellus in her hand, to show my doom!
Me and my triumphs she did so despise,
As if they'd been unworthy of her eyes.
'Tis well to her I show'd as much disdain;
I'd rather perish than she guess my pain.
But O, the horrid act she makes me do,
To fool a woman that is young and true!
So damn'd a sin, that hell could not invent,
It is too foul for any punishment;
To question those above I am afraid,
Else I would ask them, why they woman made.
Enter Philidor.
O my mad cousin, your servant.
Whither so fast?
Phil. So fast, sir? ”

“ Don Octavio approaches Porcia.
Don O. My dearest Porcia, how is't possible
To find you in this place, my friend Antonio
Having so generously undertaken
Your protection?
Por. Did he not yours so too? and yet I find
Octavio here, where he is more expos'd
Than I to certain ruin. I am loth
To say 'tis he who has betray'd us both.
Don O. Antonio false? It is impossible.
Diego. 'Tis but too evident.
Don O. Peace, slave! he is my noble friend, of noble blood,
Whose fame's above the level of those tongues
That bark by custom at the brightest virtues,
As dogs do at the moon. ”

“ Don A. Henrique, 'tis true; but finding in my breast
An equal strife 'twixt honour and revenge,
I do, in just compliance with them both,
Preserve him from your sword, to fall by mine.
Don C. Brave man, how nicely he does honour weigh!
Justice herself holds not the scales more even.
Don H. My honour suffers more as yet than yours,
And I must have a share in the revenge.
Don A. My honour, sir, is so sublim'd by love,
'Twill not admit comparison or rival.
Don H. Either he must renounce all claims to Porcia,
Or die immediately.
Don A. Y' are i' the right: that he must do, or die ”

“ Francisca, and Chichon with a long broom, run out also from behind the hanging.
Don J. What frenzy's this, Fernando? was't not you
Engaged me to effect the marriage? Sure, w'are all
Bewitch'd.
Don F. Stay, my Don Julio, stay,
And let Don Pedro have patience but to hear me—
'Tis true; but you know well upon what grounds:
Those are quite chang'd by my having overheard
All that hath pass'd; for my Elvira, Julio,
Proves spotless in her faith, as in her beauty,
And I the only guilty, to have doubted. ”

“ Phil. Wou'd I were at the wars again: I fear
No sword half so much as the tongue of one
Of these nurses; and the youling of th' children
Are more dismal to my ears than the groans
Of dying men in a battle. I am
At this time in law with six or seven
Parishes about fath'ring of bastards;
Tis very fine truly! and yet me thinks
'Tis a hard case that I should be sued for
Multiplying the world,
Since death makes bold with bastards,
As well as other children. The very picture
Of a nurse and child in her arms wou'd fright
Me now. O, from that sight deliver me! ”

“ Ama. Your eyes are true; but 'tis your heart that's false.
Zor. I am deceiv'd! that cannot be her tongue.
Ama. Should it speak otherwise to thee, I'd tear
It out, devil, Zoranzo; cursed pair
Of vipers, that in chains of death can practise
Lust, as if no end were nigh. Do not
My wrongs startle thy guilty soul, to think
Of all the torments it must have, that could
With so much falseness murder love? When thou
Art gone to hell, as go thou must, 'twill be
A task for all the devils there,
To torture thee enough. ”

“ Is Don Fernando's arms: give him your hand.
Elv. 'Tis yours, sir, to dispose of, I confess,
And if it be your will, I must submit;
But let him know, who could suspect Elvira,
She never could be his but by obedience.
Don F. I am thunderstruck. [Elvira giving him her hand.
Elv. Be not dismay'd, Fernando,
Since I profess this a mere act of duty;
Another duty may Elvira move
To reinflame on better grounds her love.
Don J. [ironically.] Blanca, I fear you'll hardly be persuaded
To give yours to Don Zancho; but a brother
For once may play the tyrant. Give it him:
It must be so. ”

“ De C. No, Dessandro; these hopes are lost upon a high
And angry sea; and I must see fools and stale
Parasites (whose progeny ne'er bled one drop, nor had
A valiant thought to serve their country) begin
A spurious issue on my birthright, that will on tiptoes,
Collossus-like, bestride us, and grasp our fate.
Des. Take me into thy bosom, brave man; we meet
Like amorous streams, and as we ought;
Our honour, life and fortunes have but one heart. ”

“ My lords, I desire justice and reparation
On the villain.
2d Judge. My Lord. De Castro,
The king has pleased to give us your relation,
In which (though the least tenderness cannot be
Impertinent to his sacred safety) there's nothing
That can raise the law to any argument, which may reach
The Duke, scarce as a peer, which looks upon him
As the second man in whom all our safeties and hopes are stor'd:
Not to be touch'd with every jealousy,
But at a high and reverend form of proof.
Duke. Let me appeal unto yourself, dread sir ”

“ By fools and knaves: they make less dangerous faults.
Diego. Am I in fault because I'm not a cat?
How could I tell i' th' dark whether that rascal
Were a knight-errant or a recreant knight?
I thought him one of us, and true to love.
Were it not for such accidents as these,
That mock man's forecast, sure, the Destinies
Had ne'er been plac'd amongst the deities.
Don O. Peace, cowardly slave! having thus play'd the rogue,
Are you grown sententious? Did I not fear
To stain my sword with such base blood, I'd let
Thy soul out with it at a thousand wounds.
Diego. ”

“ Duke. O Amphelia! why dost
Thou take such pains to break my heart, when 'tis
So easily done? She needs not secretly
Contrive my death, since half a word from her
Commands my life: her face and heart (sure) can
Not be akin; nature mistook, or else
She was to blame to give one woman two
So great extremes.
Enter Arbatus.
See, here comes the brother
To wronged Artabella: th' horror of
That sin grows bigger in me,
That I with a deluding love should fool
An innocent, to show an outward scorn
To false Amphelia ”

“ Slight stuff. I must confess, I never
Lov'd the man, only as a rich gown out of
Fashion, for a day's change sometimes at home,
When I take physic.
Duke. You may wear him as you please, and to what
Purpose; his honest nature was meant you so;
But Dessandro is the man of men (I must confess) ,
That I could wish most near you now.
Claud. Dessandro!
Duke. And suddenly, before your honour blush too palpably:
I have discovered him and his devotions.
Claud. Then your brains were in his plot.
Duke. 'Twas his own.
Claud. Stol'n from some romance or play! but
For De Flame——
Duke. ”

“ Ern. 'Slife! he's in one of his old fits again—
Why, what d' you mean, sir? 'tis Porcia herself.
Cam. I am that maid, who to your virtue owes
Her honour then and her disquiet since;
Yet in my pain I cannot but be pleas'd
To find a passion, censur'd in our sex,
Justifi'd by so great an obligation.
'Tis true I blush, yet I must own the fire,
To which both love and gratitude conspire.
Don A. Incomparable creature! can it be
That, having suffer'd all which mighty love
Did e'er inflict, I now should be repaid
With as full joys as love could ever give? ”

“ Sir, 'tis Porcia:
A lovely, living woman, and your bride.
Don A. The blessing is too mighty for my faith.
Ern. Faith! Ne'er trouble your faith in this occasion;
Approach her boldly, sir, and trust your sense.
Don A. As when we dream of some transporting pleasure,
And (finding that we dream) we fear to wake,
[Pg 256] Lest sense should rob us of our fancy's treasure,
And our delightful vision from us take,
Bless'd apparition, so it fares with me. ”

“ Sir, you're melancholy.
Duke. I am indeed.
Zor. Now, Amphelia, to heaven and you I truly
Vow, my love is still the same to cruel Amarissa.
Amph. Heaven and you witness the same for me:
My heart is still that undeserving duke's.
Exec. Come, which of you will die first?
Zor. Hast thou not
Skill enough to strike our heads off together?
Ama. Executioner, let them not have that
Satisfaction; pray, sir, let that woman
Die first, that damned Zoranzo may have
Two deaths; it will be one to him to see
Her die; shall it be so, sir?
Duke. What you please. ”

“ Duke. I will disengage you from this forc'd compliment:
It keeps me at too great a distance from that
Bosom, where I would lodge a friend, Dessandro:
I must take't unkindly too, that in the scroll
Of all your friends I stand dash'd out, a stranger
To your joys.
Des. My lord!
Duke. But you shall not steal the day so: I'll be
One at the ceremony, though the bride tell me
In a blush, I came unwish'd-for.
Des. 'Tis but the busy voice that, like the nightmare,
Rides men, and can find strange shapes and prodigies
I'th' clouds. ”

“ Lovewit, Trueman.
Love. Honest old cavalier, well met! faith, I'm glad to see thee.
True. Have a care what you call me: old is a word of disgrace among the ladies; to be honest is to be poor and foolish (as some think) ; and cavalier is a word as much out of fashion as any of 'em.
Love. The more's the pity. But what said the fortune-teller in Ben Jonson's "Masque of Gipsies," to the then Lord Privy Seal?—
Honest and old! ”