ANTONIO

Thus by great favour of propitious Stars, From fearful storms, shipwreck, and raging billows, Merciless jaws of death, am I returned To safe and quiet bosom of my Country, And wished embracements of my friends and kindred. The memory of these misfortunes passed, Season's the welcome, and augment's the pleasure I shall receive of my son Lelio And daughter Flaviam. So does alloy Make gold, that else were useless, serviceable. So rugged forehead of a threatening Mountain, Threateus the smoothness of a smiling Valley. This man admires the unexpectedness Of my return. It's Cricca. Cricca, well met, how fares my friend Pandolfo ? What sayest thou? The danger of the Shipwreck I escaped So desperate was, that I may truly say I am new born, not saved. How now? a servant thus familiar? Syrrha Use your companions so: more reverence Become's you better. Why laugh you sirrah? Laughter proceeds From absurd actions that are harmless. And you're ill advised To jest in steed of pity. Alas! my Misery's, Dangers of death, slavery of cruel Moors, And tedious journeys, might have easily altered A stronger body; much more this decayed vessel, Outworn with age, and broken by misfortunes. Where should I hope for welcome, if not there; From my own house, children, and family? I not so much as know him. By all the oaths that bind men's consciences To truth, I am Antonio ; and no other. Signior Pandolfo, I thank the heavens as much To find you well, as for my own return. How do's your daughter, and my love, Sulpitia ? No sooner was I ship't for Barbary, But fair wind followed, and fair weather led us. When entered in the Straits of Gibraltar, The heavens, and seas, and earth, conspired against us, The tempest tore our helm, and rend our tackels, Broke the main Mast, while all the sea about us Stood up in watery Mountains to overwhelm us. And struck's against a Rock, splitting the vessel T'a thousand splinters. I, with two Mariners Swam to the Coast, where by the barbarous Moors We were surprised, fettered, and sold for slaves. But by a Gentleman of Italy Whom I had known before. Whom should I look, and speak Like, but my self? I understand you not. What plate? what gold? what Jewels. What transformation? what Astrologer? Leave of your jesting; it neither fits your place Nor age, Pandoflo, to scoff your ancient friend. I know not what you mean by gold and jewels, Nor by th'Astrologer, nor Trincalo. I am Antonio Your Master's friend, if he teach you more manners. Blessed be the heavens, that rid me of this trouble. For with their Farmer and Astrologer, Plate, and gold, the'aue almost madded me. These are my gates, and that's the Cabinet That keeps my Jewels, Lelio, and his sister. Open the door sweet Flaviam. These ghosts, these Trincalo's, and Astrologers, Strike me beside my self. Who will receive me When mine own son refuseth? o Antonio! I go sir, And yield to such cross fortune as thus drives me. But stay, there's on knocks boldly, may be somefriend. Dwell you here gentleman? Young gentleman, Let me without offence entreat your name, And why you knock. Be not in choler sir. Th'vnfortunate possessor of this house. That Anastasio That drowned in Barbary? All this I intended'fore I went; but sir, if I Can be noother then my self, and you Are that Antonio, you and I are one. How Like you the beginning? Speak boldly therefore: do you willingly Give full authority, that what I decree Touching these businesses, you'll all perform? I thank you. Gentlemen, since I feel my self much broken With age, and my late Misery's, and too cold To entertain new heat; I freely yield Sulpitia, whom I loved, to my son Lelio. I understand you not. Hands off. I dare, and must To all the world, long as Antonio lives. To me these terms! Tick, tock. Oh my fair daughter Flaviam ! Let all the Stars Pour down full blessings on thee. Open the doors. Knowest not thy father, old Antonio ? Is all the world grown frantic? Thy loving father, Flaviam. That dead and drowned Am I. Th'art much abused, I live: come down, and know me. Let me come in. Quickly, or else — I'll beat the doors and window's About your ears. Impudent whore! If I be changed beyond thy knowledge, son, Consider that th'excesse of heat in Barbary, The fear of shipwreck, and long tedious journeys, Have tan'd my skin, and shrunk my eyes and cheeks; Yet still this face, though altered, may be known. This skarre bears witness, 'twas the wound thou cur'dst With thine own hands. I have no other marks Or reasons to persuade thee; me thinks, this word I am thy father, were argument sufficient To bend my knees, and creep to my embracements. WRetched Antonio, hast been preserved so strangely From foreign Misery's to be wronged at home? Bared from thy house by scorns of thine own children? May be my son hath sold it in my absence, Thinking me dead. How long hast called you master? Which Antonio? Alas My weakness grown by age, and pains of travel, Dissarmes my courage to defend my self; I have no strength but patience. Peter, and Thomas, William, what you please. Sir, heat of wine. But good sir, if I be not I, who am I? Strange negligence To lose my self! me thinks I live and move, Remember. Could the fearful apprehension Of ugly fear of drowning so transform me? Or did I die, and by Pythagoras rule, My soul's provided of another lodging? Dangers at sea Are pleasures, weighed with these home-injuries. Was ever man thus scared beside himself? Oh most unfortunate Antonio! At sea thou sufferdst shipwreck of thy goods, At land of thine own self. Antonio ? Or what name else they please? fly, fly to Barbary, And rather there endure the foreign cruelty Of fetters, whips, and Moors, then here at home Be wronged and baffled by thy friends and children. These wrongs recall my strength I am resolved. Better die once, then suffer always. Draw. This some Ass! As I remember, fourscore and fifteen pound In Barbary gold. Had Lucio kept his word I had carried joust a hundred. How and Astrologer? Then hence it came they called me Trincalo, And talked of and Astrologer; which names Almost enraged me passed my self and senses. It's true I promised, but have oft repented it. And much more since he goes about to cheat me. He must not have her, sir. Son, at your pleasure Dispose of Flaviam, with my full consent. I do; and ever had desire to match Into that family; and now I find my self Old, weak, unfit for marriage, you shall enjoy her, If I can work Pandolfo by intreaty: Cricca, to thy direction We yield our selves, manage us at thy pleasure. SIgnior Pandolfo! welcome. Thanks, dearest friend. To speak my dangers passed, were to discourse Of dead men at a feast. Such sad relations Become not marriages. Sir, I am here Returned to do you service: where's your son? Thanks Eugenio. How think you gentlemen? were it amiss To call down Flaviam and Sulpitia, That what we do, may with a full consent Be entertained by all? Lelio, call my daughter. Was't not right? and spoken Like old Antonio ? Safe. Eugenio, Flaviam, Lelio, and Sulpitia Marriages once confirmed, and consummate, Admit of no repentance. Therefore it's fitting All parties with full freedom speak their pleasure, Before it be too late. And you Pandolfo ? First for preparative, Or slight Praeludium to the greater matches; I must entreat you that my Armellina Be matched with Trincalo. Two hundred crowns I give her for her portion. Signior Pandolfo, you're wise, and understand How ill hight appetites of unbridled youth Become grey hairs. How graven and honourable Were't for your age to be enamoured With the fair shape of virtue, and the glory Of your forefathers! Then would you blush to think How by this dotage, and unequal love, You stain their honour, and your own. Awake, Banish those wild affections; and by my example Turn t'your reposed self. Sir, Conformity of years, likeness of manners, Are Gordian knots that bind up matrimony. Now betwixt seventy Winter's, and sixteen, There's no proportion, nor least hope of love. Fie, that a gentleman of your discretion, Crowned with such reputation in your youth, Should in your Western days, lose Good opinion Of all your friends; and run to open danger Of closing the weak remnant of your days With discontentment unrecoverable. These things considered, I bestow my daughter Upon your son Eugenio ; whose constant love With his so modest carriage, hath deserved her. And, that you freeze not for a bedfellow, I marry you with Patience. Signior Pandolfo, When you recover your self, lost desperately In disproportioned dotage, then you'll thank me For this great favour: be not obstinate: Disquiet not your self.