CONTARINI

Volterre and Orseollo, morrow to you, You hear the news. Foscari is departed. They are and excellent creation, though Some few decline from virtue, I've a wife, I'm but new married neither, yet I dare Boast my opinion. Signiour You're pleasant. As his gall will suffer him, He has been casting out up this half hour ̄ , Yet there is some behind still, if you name A woman, he takes fire Like touchwood, but To the Duke Foscari. We do. So we do all. I dare ̄ not he ̄ are him talk more ̄ , we ̄ shall be Held cherishers of his railing humour, in, in, Prithee lets leave him. Why? My Lord Comachio. He is constant to his humour. She enters signior Comachia, 'tis referred To your delivery. All my use of time, is but to perfect My obedience to your excellence. A Lover here from her own Court, sure it Must be from this number, Signiour Volterre! You are the man, the stars dance to. The spheres Do practice music, only to make you Merry, you are he signiour. Do not conceal your Hope's: they'le be worthy Your acknowledgement; you would be installed Ith' dark, steal titles, without the notice Of the Heralds, but noise attends honour. Come, you young men are all temptation; You have the purple veins (signiour) that swell With wanton pride, and Ladies judgements are Much governed by their eyes; what grace, what favour, Did the Duchess lately show you, the more T'indeere your duty? hah? Is't possible— My Lord. Am I not thinking on't? heart, why do you Interupt me?— Quoth she, he looks younger, then when he stood By Hymen's tapers, good, very good, I have Oh were I single now; my wife, my wife; She ruins all this hope.— Signiour Volterre. Your lop. must excuse me, I'm a little Serious. Signiour Volterre. Rebellious blood! must I neëds marry? had I but delayed my lust a month, I might Have wasted then my strength and nature, to A nobler purpose: beget Princes, now I am in bondage to my marriage vow. MY Wife must do't and then I may effect My hope with the great Duchess as soon as he Most proud of demerits. Dandalo Where your Lady. Hear, does she so much despair of long life, That she needs flatter her soul to tarry here With soft Airs, and wanton Music. Conduct her hither. I must work her to it with art and leisure. Sweet lend me thy ear in private—can I Demand a thing from her that slumbered in My bosom, and she be so unkind To give my suit a hard repulse. I believe thee (deer Carintha) but this Injunction is so severe and strange, it'll Puzzle thy consent at first. Thy breath is sweeter then the smoke ascending From the Phoenix funeral pile, I could Kiss thee, even engender on thy lips. Now I know the strength of thy affection, I slight my suit the grave will prove to easy. I'll have thee only kill thy self, cruch, thou Shat do it, hah— Is this your love, your forward kindness? I have not leisure to reply to your Demands, will you do't. Orseollo happy you, whose frozen nature Will not permit a closure with a woman. The sex do quite degenerate from those Great patterns which the former age produced. Portia swallowed fire to please her husbands ghost, Who enticed him to Elisium; Lucresse, To purchase life unto her memory, Noise at her funeral such as might cleave Her fame, priced her deer heart, and died She has been gossipping with the holy Sisters, zeal, and purity. I thank you Lop. I am exposed To the justice of the law, he whose rich And his Prince become his heir cannot live long; Beside my Hope's to enjoy the Duchess, Are then quite frustrate. I did not think Carintha thou hadst been So stern of nature, t'hast a stubborn heart; Deny my first request. Why must we not all die, it's a thrifty Conscience that persuades the soul to hasten Her departure hence to avoid future gilded. If thou suspectest thou hast not fortitude Enough, t'attempt thy death by violence: Expire with leisure: refrain from meat, till the orifice of thy stomach close, and grow Together; or when thou feedest, eat Arsnicke, Die any way, so the law call not me Thy murderer. But if yowl choose and easier way, each morning Fetch a tedious sighs or two, 'twill make your Heart to cleave, I'll give you cause enough to doe't. Or as some Country Virgins do scratch mortar From and aged wall and eat it up in Private, so die on the green disease, but now I think upon't thats to perplex away, Unto the Grave. Do, fret, gall thy heart strings till they break, Ive the engine of a babe, any man That had arrived at half my years, would soon Invent a safe way to shift that trifle From him. Hum, who shall I get to doe't. Happy fancy, it's mature I will Above it strait. Does not your excellence know, he is called The woman hater. Signiour? these are your Cormorants, you still Provide the Duchess new game, and pleasure: She did you public grace, this morning too Before the French leiger; but you would travailed Sir. On me my Lord? I crave your pardon signiour, have you learned From Laura ought that concerns my knowledge. I me yet indebted to you both: Signiour You are skilled in my affair: the noise still Continue, our great Duchess will elect A husband from her own Court, I'll only Know the man; that so I may direct my Observance the right way, you will call this And honest policy. You Signiour? Sir, I beseech you give your meaning more expression But did her grace wish I were ̄ unmarrye ̄ worser? Well, I allow of her graces wish. If my marriage discontent her highne ̄ sse: I wish I had no wife— Yes Signiour, there are ways, but— Troth, were all impediments cleared, I think We two should rule equally; Ime strangely found to those I love. If I could sue out a divorce—— She ̄ e shall commit adultery. Giotto, that I am come ̄ to tell thee. She's a beauteous Lady, soft and buxsome? Thou shalt lie with her. 'Tis decreed, come, it must be so. I keep my mercy for another use, Suspect no danger, you shall come disguised When you woo her too't, which done, the Duchess Shall help my procurement of a divorce: Why, I knew before, her highness loved me! I have received favours from her looks and and speech. No matter, he's our confederate. Dandalo know this Gentleman's hands And kiss em often. Lets perfect our design, good signiour I have no leisure now to ruminate, I affect Actium. Signiour Giotto. I thank you noble Lady. What means this great observance, 'tis beyond My merit. Dost not admire her graces Favourite should use me thus? What signiour? Thou hast herd some news. Declare, come, declare, And prosper. I have sent her to my house, provided you A rare disguise which you shall wear, and woo Her body to the dark deed, my man shall Witness her adultery; and I'll sue out A divorce; while you remain safe from law, Because not known to her. Orseollo. From whence this pride, I'll anger him. My Lord, though I am grown above the use Of Poetry, there still remains in my Remembrance a Sonnet, made in praise of Women; Which if yowl please to hear— He was not wont to speak so well of women. My best Carintha. Signiour, if your eye take delight in prospect There's a room will feed it richly, Show him Carintha, some Affairs call me to Court. Cherish him So Dandalo, be faithful to your trust, no inte ̄ rruption, Giotto prosper in thy sin, thy deed Will make me happy, though my honour bleed. You're very jocund on the sudden. You'd be reveling again. He's well skilled in women's pulces. Good, good he gave you gentle physic, But you hope 'twill work. You hold him then sufficient. Upon you ith' name of lust, you see I had a care. I think so, very light, would, is she not quick already, She moves so nimbly, Giotto has don't, I have it here, I feel it spread, would ke you: You're a whore. Heigh, she jeers me, how now? Would? Be dumb, thou bringest destruction to night, Pray you may be mistaken, I am undone else. To night, why 'tis impossible To sue out a divorce, Ime lost, my plots Rebound and strike me dead. Madam a word w'e, You magnified but now a courtesy I did you, you were ever grateful, I Know't, you shall not do the benefit If you will yet kill your self. I know 'tis, considering th'art stained, Lost in thine honour, held but a disease That grows upon thy sex, a tumour; prithee Lance thy self 'tis soon done. Giotto. What make they flattering here, would they all hope To enjoy her; all, only Contarini Could gnaw his heartstrings now to be excluded, When he expected his fate ripe, and all his Hope's fit for gathering. Y'ave store of clients signiour, I am come To know my fortune too. You'd say 'tis plain writ in my forehead, yes In capital letters; you are known to the secretary, That taught my wife this Text hand, but you must Do something, sure the marriage is decreed To night to rid me of Carintha, or I'll would thee punished for adultery. As horns can make a man, it is no time For patience, hear me carefully and have Your best brains. I'll laugh at thee With my men help, and oath against thee, I'll Return thy calumny ith' face, I am A Lord, and shall out weigh thee, couldst thou give Thy truth a body, that even men might see As well as hear it. Do, harrow thy skull, I am resolved. And reward thee. O happiness, may I trust too't? Wilt thou be speedy, for I'll tell thee Giotto, I cannot hope this night to have all perfect. The noise of this her sudden death, must needs Mar this nights reveling, and pretract the choice That is expected; then a little time Presents me capable of the mighty favour: I have encouragement to hope for marriage With our great Duchess, would. O let me hug thee. And my heart too, on, be swift in thy great work Believe it done. I wish he had more manners. Is't done? softly in my ear? Hell, and damnation! Secure thy self, my ways are hidden. She has too much health Madam: but had I known Your excellences purpose, to hasten thus Your favour towards your humble subject: She had ere this arrived in heaven: however If your care find your blood so violent You are not able to delay the use Of this my person; she shall not live long To find your desire. It's great pity custom should make Princes So reserved in wooing, had you told me But two days since of this meeting, I had Cashiered my wife; a nimbler way then by Contriving a divorce. alas, no design seems difficult, that makes Me capable of your highness love. How Madam? Horred torture, foiled in my Hope's, and made And argument for popular scorn, I fear My own shadow, my horns are grown so ugly. Deprived of my revenge too! Heaven has punished my ambition, it was My own seeking. Ime content to suffer. IT must be done to night, and early to, for else 'twill Do me no pleasure deer Carintha, make thy memory Religious. A fury lend me curses, make me all And execration, I would plotted fairly, And made my self a fine rediculus thing To no purpose, I am deep in shame, I must on Giotto, have a nimble brain; you must sink too Or boy me up again.