Gio.
Come Annabella, no more Sister now,
But Loue; a name more Gracious, doe not blush,
(Beauties sweete wonder) but be proud, to know
That yeelding conquer'd, and inflam'd
A heart whose tribute is brothers life.
Enter Giouanni and Annabella, as from their Chamber.
Anna.
And mine is his, oh how these stolne contents
Would print a modest Crymson on my cheekes,
Had any but my hearts delight preuail'd.
Gio.
I maruaile why the chaster of your sex
Should thinke this pretty toye call'd Maiden-head,
So strange a losse, when being lost, nothing,
And you are still the same.
Anna.
well for you,
Now you can talke.
Gio.
Musicke aswell consists
In th'eare, as in the playing.
Anna.
Oh y'are wanton,
Tell on't, y'are best, doe.
Gio.
wilt chide me then,
Kisse me, so; thus hung Ioue on Laeda's necke,
And suck't diuine Ambrosia from her lips:
I enuy not the mightiest man aliue,
But hold my selfe in being King of ,
More great, then 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 haue you.
Anna.
You must.
Gio.
Nay some other.
Anna.
Now do not speake so, without iesting
You'le make me weepe in earnest.
Gio.
What you will not.
But tell me sweete, can'st be dar'd to sweare
That wilt liue to mee, and to no other?
Anna.
By both our loues I dare, for know
My Gionanni, how all suiters seeme
To my eyes hatefull, trust mee then.
Gio.
Enough, I take word; Sweet we must part,
Remember what 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 wilt, in mind I'le keepe here,
And where art, I know I shall be there
Guardian.
Enter Putana.
Put.
Child, how is't child? well, thanke Heauen, hal
Anna.
O Guardian, what a Paradise of joy
Haue I past ouer!
Put.
Nay what a Paradise of ioy haue you past vnder? why now I commend (Chardge) feare nothing, (sweeteheart) what though hee be your Brother; your Brother's a man I hope, and I say still, if a young feele the fitt vpon her, let her take any body, Father or Brother, all is one.
Anna.
I would not haue it knowne for all the world.
Put.
Nor I indeed, for the speech of the people; else 'twere nothing.
Florio within—
Daughter Annabella.
Anna.
O mee! my Father,—here Sir,—reach my worke.
Flo. within.
What are you doeing?
An.
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 haue brought you company, here's one, a learned Doctor, lately come from Padua, much skild in Physicke, and for that I see you haue of late beene sickly, I entreated this reuerent man to visit you some time.
Anna.
Y'are very welcome Sir.
Richard.
I thanke you Mistresse,
Loud Fame in large report spoke your praise,
Aswell for Vertue as perfection:
For which I haue beene bold to bring with mee
A Kins-woeman of mine, a maide, for song,
And musicke, one perhaps will giue content,
Please you to know her.
Anna.
They are parts I loue,
And shee for them most welcome.
Phi.
Thanke you Lady.
Flo.
Sirnow you know my house, pray make not strange,
And if you finde my Daughter neede your Art,
I'le be your pay-master.
Rich.
Sir, what I am shee shall command[…]
Flo.
You shall bind me to you,
Daughter, I must haue conference with you,
Aboutsome matters that concernes vs both.
Good Maister Doctor, please you but walke in,
Wee'le craue a little of your Cozens cunning:
I thinke my Girle not quite forgot
To touch an Instrument, she could haue don't,
Wee'le heare them both.
Rich.
I'le waite vpon you sir.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo in his study reading a Booke.
Loues measure is extreame, the comfort, paine:
The life vnrest, and the reward disdaine
What's here? looke o're againe, so, so writes
This smooth licentious Poet in his rymes.
But Sanazar lyest, for had bosome
Felt such oppression as is laid on mine,
haue kist the rod that made the smart.
To worke then happy Muse, and contradict
What Sanazer in his enuy writ.
Loues measure is the meane, sweet his annoyes,
His pleasures life, and his reward all ioyes.
Had Annabella liu'd when Sanazar
Did in his briefe Euconium celebrate
Venice that Queene of Citties, he had left
That Verse which gaind him such a sume of Gold,
And for one onely looke from Annabell
Had writ of her, and her diuiner cheekes,
O how my thoughts are—
Vasques within—
Pray forbeare, in rules of Ciuility, lot me giue notice on't: I shall be tax't of my neglect of duty and seruice.
Soran.
What rude intrusion interrupts my peace,
Can I be no where priuate?
Vas. within.
Troth you wrong your modesty.
Soran.
What's the matter Vasques, who is't?
Enter Hipplita and Vasques.
Hip.
I:
Doe you know mee now? looke periurd man on her
Whom and distracted lust haue wrong'd,
sensuall rage of blood made my youth
Ascorne to men and Angels, and shall I
Be now a foyle to vnsated change?
knowst (false wanton) when my modest fame
Stood free from staine, or scandall, all the charmes
Of Hell or sorcery could not preuaile
Against the honour of my chaster bosome:
Thyne eyes did pleade in teares, tongue in oathes
Such and so many, that a heart of steele
Would haue beene wrought to pity, as was mine:
And shall the Conquest of my lawfull bed,
My husbands death vrg'd on by his disgrace,
My losse of woeman-hood be ill rewarded
With hatred and contempt? No, know Soranzo,
I haue a spirit as much distast
The slauery of fearing , as
loath the memory of what past.
Soran.
Nay deare Hippolita.
Hip.
Call me not deare,
Nor thinke with supple words to smooth the grosenesse
Of my abuses; not your new Mistresse,
Your goodly Madam Merchant shall triumph
On my deiection; tell her thus from mee,
My byrth was Nobler, and by much more Free.
Soran.
You are too violent.
Hip.
You are too double
In your dissimulation, see'st this,
This habit, these blacke mourning weedes of Care,
art cause of this, and diuore't
My husband from his life and me from him,
And made me Widdow in my widdow-hood.
Soran.
Will you yet heare?
Hip.
More of the periuries?
soule is drown'd too deepely in those sinnes,
need'st not add to […]th number.
Soran.
Then I'le leaue you,
You are past all rules of sence.
Hip.
And of grace.
Vas.
Fy Mistresse, you, are not neere the limits of reason, if my Lord had a resolution as noble as Vertue it selfe, you take the course to vnedge it all. Sir I beseech you doe not perplexe her, griefes (alas) will haue a vent, I dare vndertake Madam Hippolita will now freely heare you.
Soran.
Talke to a woman frantick, are these the fruits of your loue?
Hip.
They are the fruites of vntruth, false man,
not sweare, whil'st no happinese on earth
More then to call me wife? not vow
When hee should dye to marry mee? for which
The Deuill in my blood, and protests
Caus'd mee to Counsaile him to vndertake
A voyage to Ligorne, for that we heard,
His Brother there was dead, and left a Daughter
Young and vnfriended, who with much adoe
I wish't him to bring hi[…]her; hee did so,
And went; and as know'st dyed on the way.
Vnhappy man to buy his death so deare
With my aduice; yet for whom I did it,
Forget'st vowes, and leau'st me to my shame.
Soran.
Who could helpe this?
Hip.
Who? periur'd man ,
If hadst faith or loue.
Soran.
You are deceiu'd,
The vowes I made, (if you remember well)
Were wicked and vnlawfull,'twere more sinne
To keepe them, then to breake them; as for mee
I cannot maske my penitence, thinke
How much digrest from honest shame,
In bringing of a gentleman to death
Who was husband, such a one as hee,
So noble in his quality, condition,
Learning, behauiour, entertainment, loue,
As Parma could not shew a brauer man.
Vas,
You doe not well, this was not your promise.
Soran.
I care not, let her know her monstrous life,
I'le be seruile to so blacke a sinne,
I'le be a Curse; woeman, come here no more,
Lear[…]e to repent and dye; for by my honour
I hate and lust; you haue beene too foule.
Vas.
This part has beene scuruily playd.
Hip.
How foolishly this beast contemnes his Fate,
And shuns the vse of that, which I more scorne
Then I once lou'd his loue; but let him goe,
She offers to goe away.
My vengeance shall giue comfort to his woe.
Vas.
Mistresse, Mistresse Madam Hippolita,
Pray a word or two.
Hip.
With mee Sir?
Vas.
With you if you please.
Hip.
What is't?
Vas.
I know you are infinitely mou'd now, and you thinke you haue cause, some I confesse you haue, but sure not so much as you imagine.
Hip.
Indeed.
Vas.
O yo[…] were miserably bitter, which you followed euen to the last […]llable: Faith you were somewhat too shrewd, by my life you could not haue tooke my Lord in a worse time, since I first knew him: tomorrow you shall finde him a new man.
Hip.
Well, I shall waite his leasure.
Vas.
Fie, this is not a hearty patience, it comes sowerly from you, troth let me perswade you for once.
Hip.
I haue it a[…]d it shall be so; thanks opportunity
—perswade me to what—
Vas.
Visitt him in some milder temper, O if you could but master a little your femall spleen, how might you winne him!
Hip.
Hee wil neuer loue me: Vasques, bin a too trusty seruant to such a master, & I beleeue reward in the end wil fal out like mine.
Vas.
So perhaps too.
Hip.
Resolue selfe it will; had I one so true, so truely honest, so secret to my Counsels, as beene to him and his, I should thinke it a flight acquittance, not onely to make him Maister of all I haue, but euen of my selfe.
Vas.
O you are a noble Gentlewoman.
Hip.
Wu't feede alwayes vpon hopes? well, I know art wise, and see'st the reward of an old seruant dally what it is
Vas.
Beggery and neglect.
Hip.
True, but Vasques, wer't mine, and bee priuate to me and my designes; I here protest my selfe, and all what I can else call myne, should be at dispose.
Vas.
Worke you that way old moule? then I haue the wind of you—I were not worthy of it, by any desert that could lye—within my compasse; if I could—
Hip.
What then?
Vas.
I should then hope to liue in these my old yeares with rest and security.
Hip.
Giue me hand, now promise but silence,
And helpe to bring to passe a plot I haue;
And here in sight of Heauen, (that being done)
I make Lord of mee and mine estate.
Vas.
Come you are merry,
This is such a happinesse that I can
Neither thinke or beleeue.
Hip.
Promise secresie, and confirm'd.
Vas.
Then here I call our good Genij foe-witnesses, whatsoeuer your designes are, or against whomsoeuer, I will not onely be a speciall actor therein, but neuer disclose it till it be effected.
Hip.
I take word, and with that, for mine:
Come then, let's more conferre of this .
On this delicious bane my thoughts shall banquet,
Reuenge shall sweeten what my griefes haue tasted.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richar.
see'st (my louely Necce) these strange mishaps,
How all my fortunes turne to my disgrace,
Wherein I am but as a looker on,
Whiles others act my shame, and I am silent.
Phi.
But Vnkle, wherein can this borrowed shape
Giue you content?
Richard.
I'le tell gentle Neece,
wanton Aunt in her lasc[…]ious riotts
Liues now secure, thinkes I am surely dead
In my late Iourney to Ligorne for you;
(As I haue caus'd it to be rumord out)
Now would I see with what an impudence
Shee giues scope to her loose adultery,
And how the Common voyce allowes hereof:
Thus farre I haue preuail'd.
Phi.
Alas, I feare
You meane some strange reuenge.
Richard.
O be not troubled,
Your ignorance shall pleade for you in all,
But to our businesse, what, you learnt for certaine
How Signior Florio meanes to giue his Daughter
In marriage to Soranzo?
Phi.
Yes for certaine.
Richard.
But how finde you young Annabella's loue,
Inclind to him?
Phi.
For ought I could perceine,
Shee neyther fancies him or any else.
Richard.
There's Mystery in that which time must shew,
Shee vs'd you kindly.
Phi.
Yes.
Richard.
And crau'd your company?
Phi.
Often.
Richard.
well, it goes as I could wish,
I am the Doctor now, and as for you,
None knowes you; if all faile not we shall thrine.
But who comes here?
Enter Grimaldi.
I know him, Grimaldi,
A Roman and a souldier, neere allyed
Vnto the Duke of Montferrato, one
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
That now resides in Parma, by which meanes
He hopes to get the loue of Annabella,
Gri.
Saue you Sir.
Richard.
And you Sir.
Gri.
I haue heard
Of your approu'd skill, which through the City
Is freely talkt of, and would craue your ayd.
Richard.
For what Sir?
Gri.
Marry sir for this—
But I would speake in Priuate.
Richard.
Leaue vs Cozen.
Exit Phi.
Gri.
I loue faire Annabella, and would know
Whether in Arts there may not be receipts
To moue affection.
Richard.
Sir perhaps there may,
But these will nothing profit you.
Gri.
Not mee?
Richard.
Vnlesse I be mistooke, you are a man
Greatly in fauour with the Cardinall.
Gri.
What of that?
Richard.
In duty to his Grace,
I will be bold to tell you, if you seeke
To marry Florio's daughter, you must first
Remoue a barre twixt you and her.
Gri.
Whose that?
Richard:
Soranzo is the man that her heart,
And while hee liues, be sure you cannot speed.
Gri.
Soranzo, what mine Enemy, is't hee?
Richard.
Is hee your Enemy?
Gri.
The man I hate,
Worse then Confusion:
I'le tell him streight.
Richard.
Nay, then take mine aduice,
(Euen for his Graces sake the Cardinall)
I'le finde a time when hee and shee doe meete,
Of which I'le giue you notice, and to be sure
Hee shall not scape you, I'le prouide a poyson
To dip your Rapiers poynt in, if hee had
As many heads as (Hidra had, he dyes.
Gri.
But shall I trust Doctor?
Richard.
As your selfe,
Doubt not in ought; thus shall the Fates d[…]erce,
By me Soranzo falls, that min'd mee.
Excunt.
Enter Donado, Bergetto and Peggio.
Do.
Well Sir, I must bee content to be both your Secretary and your Messenger my selfe; I cannot tell what this Letter may worke, but as sure as I am aliue, if come or[…]e to talke with her, I feare wu't marre whatsoeuer I make.
Ber.
You make Vnkle? why am not I bigge enough to carry mine owne Letter I pray?
Do.
I, I carry a fooles head o'thy owne; why Dunce, write a letter, and carry it selfe
Ber.
Yes that I wudd, and reade it to her with my owne mouth, for you must thinke, if shee will not belecue me my selfe when she heares me speake; she will not beleeue anothers handwriting. O you thinke I am ablocke-head Vnkle, no sir, Poggio knowes I haue indited a letter my selfe, so I haue.
Pog.
Yes truely sir, I haue it in my pocket.
Do.
A sweate one no doubt, pray let's see't.
Ber.
I cannot reade my owne hand very well Poggio, Reade it Poggio.
Do.
Begin.
Poggio reades
Pog.
MOst dainty and honey-sweete Mistresse, I could call you faire, […] lie as fast as any that loues you, but my Vnkle being the older man, I leaue it to him, as more fit for his age, and the colour of his beard: I am wise enough to tell you […] board where I see occasian, or if you like my Vnkles wit better then mine, you shall marry mee; if you like mine better then his […] I will marry you in spight of your teeth; So commonding my best parts to you, I rest. Yours vpwards and downewards, or you may chose, Bergetto.
Ber.
Ah ha, here's stuffe Vnkle.
Do.
Here's stuffe indeed to shame vs all,
Pray whose aduice did you take in this learned Letter?
Pog.
None vpon my word, but mine owne.
Ber.
And mine Vnkle, beleeue it, no bodies else; mine owne brayne, I thanke a good wit for't.
Do.
Get you home sir, and looke yon keepe within doores till I returne.
Ber.
How? that were a iest indeede; I scorne it yfaith.
Do.
What you doe not?
Ber.
Iudge me, but I doe now.
Pog.
Indeede sir very vnhealthy.
Do.
Well sir, if I heare any of your apish running to motions, and fopperies till I come backe, you were as good no; looke too't.
Exit Do.
Ber.
Poggio, shall's steale to see this Horse with the head in's tayle?
Pog.
I but you must take heeds of whipping.
Ber.
take me for a Child Poggio,
Come honest Poggio,
Exeunt:
Enter Fryar and Giouanni.
Fry.
Peace, told a tale, whose euery word
Threatens eternall flaughter to the soule:
I'me sorry I haue heard it; would mine eares
Had beene one minute deafe, before the houre
That cam'st to mee: o young man cast-away,
By the relligious number of mine order,
I day and might haue wak't my aged eyes,
Aboue strength, to weepe on behalfe:
But Heauen is angry, and be resolu'd,
art a man remark't to tast a mischiefe,
Looke for't; though it come late, it will come sure.
Gio.
Father, in this you are vncharitable;
What I haue done, I'le proue both fit and good.
It is a principall (which you haue taught
When I was yet your Scholler) that the Fame
And Composition of the Minde follow
The Frame and Composition of Body:
So where the Bodies furniture is Beauty,
The Mindes must needs be Vertue: which allowed.
Vertue it selfe is Reason but refin'd,
And Loue the Quintesence of that, this proues
My Sisters Beauty being rarely Faire,
Is rarely Vertuous; chiefely in her loue,
And chiefely in that Loue, her loue to me.
If hers to me, then so is mine to her;
Since in like Causes are effects alike.
Fry.
O ignorance in knowledge, long agoe,
How often haue I warn'd this before?
Indeede if we were sure there were no Deity,
Nor Heauen nor Hell, then to be lead alone,
By Natures light (as were Philosophers
Of elder times) might instance some defence.
But not so; then Madman, wilt finde,
That Nature is in Heauens positions blind.
Gio.
Your age o're rules you, had you youth like mine,
You'd make her loue your heauen, and her diuine.
Fry.
Nay then I see th'art too farre sold to hell,
It lies not in the Compasse of my prayers
To call backe; yet let me Counsell :
Perswade sister to some marriage.
Gio.
Marriage? why that's to dambe her; that's to prone
Her greedy of variety of lust.
Fry.
O fearefull! if wilt not, giue me leaue
To shriue her; lest shee should dye vn-absolu'd.
Gio.
At your best leasure Father, then shee'le tell you,
How dearely shee prize my Matchlesse loue,
Then you will know what pitty 'twere we two
Should haue beene sundred from each others armes.
View well her face, and in that little round,
You may obserue a world of variety;
For Colour, lips, for sweet perfumes, her breath;
For Iewels, eyes; for threds of purest gold,
Hayre; for delicious choyce of Flowers, cheekes;
Wonder in euery portion of that Throne:
Heare her but speake, and you will sweare the Sphaeres
Make Musicke to the Cittizens in Heauen:
But Father, what is else for pleasure fram'd,
Least I offend your eares shall goe vn-nam'd.
Fry.
The more I heare, I pitty the more,
That one so excellent should giue those parts:
All to a second Death; what I can doe
Is but to pray; and yet I could aduise ,
be rul'd.
Gio.
In what?
Fry.
Why leaue her yet,
The Throne of Mercy is aboue your trespasse,
Yet time is left you both—
Gio.
To embrace each other,
Else let all time be strucke quite out of number;
Shee is like mee, and I like her resolu'd.
Fry.
No more, I'le visit her; this grieues me most,
Things being thus, a paire of soules are lost.
Exeut.
Enter Florio, Donado, Annabella, Putana.
Flo.
Where's Giouanni?
Anna.
Newly walk't abroad,
And (as I heard him say) gon to the Fryar
His reuerent Tutor.
Flo.
That's a blessed man,
A man made vp of holinesse, I hope
Hee'le teach him how to gaine another world.
Do.
Faire Gentlewoman, here's a letter sent:
To you from my young Cozen, I dare sweare
He loues you in his soule, would you could heare
Sometimes, what I see dayly, sighes and teares,
As if his breast were prison to his heart.
Flo.
Receiue it Annabella.
Anna.
Alas good man.
Do.
What's that she said?
Pu.
And please you sir, she sayd, alas good man, truely I doe Commend him to her euery night before her first sleepe, because I would haue her dreame of him, and shee harkens to that most relligiously.
Do.
Say'st so, godamercy Putana there's something for , and doe what canst on his behalfe; sha'not be lost labour, take my word for't.
Pu.
Thanke you most heartily sir, now I haue a Feeling of your mind, let mee alone to worke.
Anna.
Guardian!
Pu.
Did you call?
Anna.
Keepe this letter,
Do.
Signior Florio, in any case bid her reade it instantly.
Flo.
Keepe it for what? pray reade it mee here right.
Anna.
I shall sir,
Shere[…]ae[…],
Do.
How d'ee finde her inclin'd Signior
Flo.
Troth sir I know not how; not all so well
As I could wish.
Anna.
Sir I am bound to rest your Cozens debter,
The Iewell I'le returne, for if he loue,
I'le count that loue a Iewell.
Do.
Marke you that?
Nay keepe them both sweete Maide.
Anna.
You must excuse mee,
Indeed I will not keepe it.
Flo.
Where's the Ring,
That which your Mother in her will bequeath'd,
And charg'd you on her blessing not to giue't
To any but your Husband? send backe that.
Anna.
I haue it not,
Flo.
Ha I haue it not, where is't?
Anna.
My brother in the morning tooke it fro me,
Said he would weare't to Day.
Flo.
Well, what doe you say
To young Bergetto's loue? are you content
To match with him? speake.
Do.
There's the poynt indeed.
Anna.
What shal I doe, I must say something now.
Flo.
What say, why d'ee not speake?
Anna.
Sir with your leaue
Please you to giue me freedome.
Flo.
Yes you haue.
Anna.
Signior Donado, if your Nephew meane
To rayse his better Fortunes in his match,
The hope of mee will hinder such a hope;
Sir if you loue him, as I know you doe;
Find one more worthy of his choyce then mee,
In short, I'me sure, I sha'not be his wife.
Do.
Why here's plaine dealing, I commend for't,
And all the worst I wish , is heauen blesse ,
Your Father yet and I will still be friends,
Shall we not Signior Florio?
Flo.
Yes, why not?
Looke here your Cozen comes.
Ente[…] Bergetto and Poggio.
Do.
Oh Coxcombe, what he make here?
Ber.
Where's my Vnkle firs.
Do.
What's the newes now?
Ber.
Saue you Vnkle saue you, you must not thinke I come for nothing Maisters, and how and how is't? what you haue read my letter, ah, there I—tickled you yfaith.
Pog.
But 'twere better you had tickled her in another place.
Ber.
Sweet-hea[…]t, I'le tell a good jest, and riddle what .
Anna.
You say you'd tell mee.
Ber.
As I was walking iust now in the Streete, I mett a swaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me, and because hee did thrust me, I very valiantly cal'd him Rogue, hee hereupon bad me drawe, I told him I had more wit then so, but when hee saw that I would not, hee did so maule me with the hilts of his Rapier, that my head sung whil'st my feere caper'd in the kennell.
Do.
Was euer the like asse seene?
Anna.
And what did you all this while?
Ber.
Laugh at him for a gull, till I see the blood runne about mine eares, and then I could not choose but finde in my heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beard; (they say hee is a new-come Doctor) cald mee into this house, and gaue me a playster, looke you here ; and sir there was a young washt my face and hands most excellently, yfaith I shall loue her as long as I liue for't, did she not Poggio?
Pog.
Yes and kist him too.
Ber.
Why la now, you thinke I tell a lye Vnkle I warrant.
Do.
Would hee that beate blood out of head, had beaten some wit into it; For I feare neuer wilt haue any.
Ber.
Oh Vnkle, but there was a , would haue done a mans heart good to haue lookt on her, by this light shee had a face mee-thinks worth twenty of you Mistresse Annabella.
Do,
Was euer such a foole borne?
Anna.
I am glad shee lik't you sir.
Ber.
Are you so, by my troth I thanke you .
Flo.
Sure the Doctors neece, that was last day with vs here:
Ber.
shee, shee.
Do.
How doe you know that simplicity?
Ber.
Why doe's not hee say so? if I should hau[…] sayd no, I should hau[…] giuen him the lye Vnkle, and so haue deseru'd a dry beating againe; I'le none of that.
Flo.
A very modest welbehau'd young Maide as I haue seene.
Do.
Is shee indeed?
Flo.
Indeed Shee is, if I haue any Iudgement.
Do.
Well sir, now you are free, you need not care for sending letters, now you are dismist, your Mistresse here will none of you.
Ber.
No; why what care I for that, I can haue Wenches enough in Parma for halfe a Crowne a peece, cannot I Poggio?
Pog.
I'le warrant you sir.
Do.
Signior Florio, I thanke you for your free recourse you gaue for my admittance; and to you faire Maide that Iewell I will giue you 'gainst your marriage, come will you goe sir?
Ber.
I marry will I Mistres, farwell Mistres, I'le come againe to morrow—farwell Mistres.
Exit Do. Ber. & Pog.
Enter Gio.
Flo.
Sonne, where haue you beene? what alone, alone, still, still? I would not haue it so, you must forsake this ouer bookish . Well, your Sister shooke the Foole off.
Gio.
no match for her.
Flo.
not indeed I ment it nothing lesse,
Soranzo is the man I onely like;
Looke on him Annabella, come, supper-time,
And it growes late.
Exit Florio.
Gio.
Whose […]ewell's that?
Anna.
Some Sweet-hearts.
Gio.
So I thinke.
Anna.
A lusty youth, Signior Donado gaue it me
To weare against my Marriage.
Gio.
But you shall not weare it, send it him backe againe.
Anna.
What, you are jealous?
Gio.
That you shall know , at better leasure:
Welcome sweete night, the Euening crownes the Day.
Exeunt.