The Fatal Jealousie (1673)

Chapter 6

Chapter 64,084 wordsPublic domain

_Cæl._ The greatest Object pity hath, is Age, When it returns to Childishness again, As this Old Woman doth; and though we say, That Age is Honourable, we only mean, When Gravity and Wisdom are its marks, And not gray hairs, and froward peevishness, As ten for one, are known by to be Old, And though we see this true, yet we would all Prolong our time to that decrepid state, When nothing but contempt can wait upon us; How strangely sin dastards our very Reason, Making that guide us to desire known ills Rather then Joys, that promis'd we deserve not; For the best Men through sense of guilt do fear To change for unseen Joys their troubles here. [Exit.

_Enter Nurse._

_Nurse._ If this Ghost follow still, 'twill make me mad; For sure it is a Ghost it looks so pale; Ay, and _Eugenia's_ Ghost, I'm sure it is; But who should kill her? May be _Don Francisco_! Oh, there it is again--It's not my fault-- Oh, do not follow me then: What shall I do? See there again, she points unto her Breasts-- It's gone again, I fear 'twill make me mad-- I'le go to Prayers: But I forget my bus'ness, My Lord will come, and I must let him in, And shew him what I promis'd, or he'l kill me.

_Enter _Flora_._

What, come again! Oh, Heav'ns! I'le stop my Eyes,

_Flor._ Nurse, are you mad?

_Nurse._ No, you would make me so! But I defie thee-- Be gone, thou Spirit, i'th' name of Heav'n, be gone.

_Flor._ Who should be gone?

_Nurse._ Thou! for thou'rt the Devil. Come not near me.

_Flor._ My Lady sent me to you--

_Nurse._ No, no, she did not, for she lov'd me always, And would not send the Devil thus to fright me.

_Flor._ I am no Devil, Nurse, look upon me, I'm _Flora_.

_Nurse._ Ay, where's the Spirit then I saw just now?

_Flor._ There was no worser Spirit then my self.

_Nurse._ No; pray Minx, what makes you follow me? I'le set you back again i'th' Devils Name, Come you to spy my Actions.

_Flor._ No, Nurse, my Lady sent me, don't be angry, She was afraid that you were running mad.

_Nurse._ I, mad, it may be so; now I am Old I must be mad, forsooth; but time has been, There's ne're a Servant durst have laught at me, Nor I'le not take it now, no that I won't, I'le tear your Eyes out first.

[ _She runs after _Flora_, who still is too quick for her._

_Flor._ Nay, softly, Nurse; so, so; ay, there!

_Nurse._ Where where? I see it now, It's strangely pale! O, do not fright me so; it's gone again. And now I shall have time to follow you; Nay, now I'le tear thy Eyes out.

[ _As _Flora_ runs away, she falls, Nurse gets upon her._

_Flor._ Oh, Nurse, Nurse! have mercy on me, Do not scratch me so.

_Nurse._ I'le be thy Death, there's nothing shall preserve you. Ah ---- are you there again! The Devil, the Devil. [Exit.

_Flor._ 'Twas well for me her madness work't again, And made her take a whim to run away, She would have kill'd me else, do what I could; I'le stay no longer, lest she come again. I'd not be in her fingers as I was For all I'm worth. [Exit.

_Enter Captain, Watch, and Servant._

_Capt._ When I consider every Circumstance Of what you tell, and what I know my self, I must conclude, I ought not to defer To search _Antonio_'s House: if he's from home, As you pretend he is; It makes me think There is some strange Intrigue design'd by him. For why should he turn back, as you relate, And then obscure himself in such a House? Besides, he told me, he was strait for Home, And yet it seems was not, as you say.

_Serv._ It's truth, upon my Life, he was not there At past the hour of Nine.

_Watch._ Who comes there!

[Enter the little Devil, and runs and skulkes.

Captain, the Devil, the Devil! See where he stands?

_Capt._ O' my Conscience! The Witches little Familiar again! If you're afraid, let me come, I'm us'd to These sort of Devils! Come, come, uncase,

[It sputters like a Cat, Captain to him.

Uncase, young Gamester, what slippery pranck Are you about now? Don't you remember your Last escape, Sirrah?

_Devil._ Pray Master don't whip me, I'le tell all.

_Capt._ Out with it then; where's the Old Witch, your Mistress?

_Devil._ Alas, Captain, she was kill'd to Night when You brought in the Watch to search our House.

_Capt._ Kill'd, by whom?

_Devil._ I know not that, but we were putting a cheat Upon a Lord there, by contrivance of his Man, And when you knockt, we ran to our lurking holes To hide us, but when the Coast was clear, we came Out, and seeking for my Mistress, found her dead in one Of the holes thrust through her Body with a Dagger in Three places.

_Capt._ What cheat was that you put upon the Lord?

_Dev._ We Acted like Devils, and in a Song made him Believe his Wife did Cuckold him.

_Capt._ This was _Antonio_, whom I met there, Sir.

_Devil._ Ay, that's his Name, a mighty furious Man, He said, he'd kill e'm all before 'twas day. He made me quake to hear him; I hope now, Captain, you will let me go.

_Capt._ No, no, you Rogue! If he has done more mischief You shall be hang'd, except you find your Fellows That joyn'd i'th' cheat with you to make him Jealous.

_Devil._ I'le bring you presently to them, and shew you all Their holes; they did but send me out to watch when The Coast was clear!

_Capt._ Who, say you, set you on to this design?

_Devil._ An ill-look'd Rogue, his Man, the Witches Nephew; I think they call him _Jasper_.

_Capt._ Well, take the Boy, and call some of your Fellows, And there surprize them all. I'le not defer My searching to prevent the mischief That _Don Antonio_ further may design, For I believe he had a hand in this Was done i'th' Garden, however the mistake Did happen to begin between the Dead.

_Serv._ Come, Sir, make haste, for I begin to fear Some Tragedy is Acted in the House, For _Don Antonio_'s Rage is alwayes quick, And they have toucht the string will stretch it highest.

_Capt._ Come then, let's hasten back.

[Whistling behind the Stage.

_Enter Nurse._

_Nurse._ Ay, that's his whistle, and I must obey't. Why _Pedro_, _Pedro_! What, are you dead asleep? _Pedro_, I say.

_Pedro within._ Who calls?

_Nurse._ _Pedro_, rise quickly, my Lady _Cælia_ wants you.

_Ped._ What can she want me for at such a time?

_Nurse._ I know not, but _Flora_ came, and said you must Come quickly, I think, to Ride to my Lord.

_Ped._ I come, but I'le have a care of your tricks, Nurse.

[ _Enter _Pedro_ in a Night-Gown, with his sword in's hand._

_Nurse._ What tricks? What do you Do with your Sword?

_Ped._ Why, Nurse, you may have malice, and malice May seek mischief, which because you are no Witch, And cannot come through a Key-hole to compass, For ought I know, you call me out to do it--ha! What whistle's that?

[Whistle.

_Nurse._ What whistle! Are you mad! Go to my Lady.

_Ped._ Still I suspect you.

[Exeunt.

_Enter Nurse, with _Antonio_ and _Jasper_._

_Anto._ Are they together, Nurse?

_Nurse._ Yes, my Lord, the more's my sorrow!

_Anto._ Nay then, I see the Devils did speak truth; _Francisco_, their kind Couzen, Whor'd them both, By Heav'ns they took their turns, I see it plain! O that I could invent some horrid Death, And had but time to execute it on them; But since I cannot, plain stabbing will do well, The less they've here, the more they'l find in Hell.

_Nurse._ I hope you will not kill your Lady, Sir!

_Anto._ Not kill her! But I must.

_Nurse._ What have I done? Oh, oh. [Cryes out oh, oh.

_Anto._ Hold, stop your mouth, I'le stop it for you else; They'l hear her, and escape! Come, _Jasper_, are you ready?

_Jasp._ Yes, my Lord, I follow.

[Exeunt.

_Nurse._ What have I done, one Murder on another? I see 'twas he that kill'd _Eugenia_ now, By's naming _Don Francisco_; oh, that _Jasper_-- Oh, the Ghost again--what shall I do? [Exit.

_Cælia_ in Bed, and _Flora_ all Bloody.

_Cæl._ I'm sorry that I sent thee, since she's mad, But would 'twas day, that I might get her lookt to.

_Flor._ I'm sure she has scratch't my face sufficiently.

_Cæl._ 'Tis well it was no worse.

[_Pedro_ knocks.

_Flor._ Alas! she'l come again!

_Ped._ _Flora_, _Flora_.

[He knocks.

_Flor._ Who's that, _Pedro_! What's the matter with you?

_Ped._ Nurse call'd, and said my Lady would speak with me.

_Cæl._ Bid him come in.

_Flor._ My Lady bids you enter.

[Enter _Pedro_.

_Cæl._ _Pedro_, the Nurse is mad, I did not call you, You see how she has scratcht poor _Flora_'s Face, She came just now shreeking and staring hither; If you could lock her up into some Room, It would do well.

[A noise, Exiturus, he fights, and Enters with _Antonio_, whom when he sees, he lets fall his point, and is kill'd. _Jasper_ runs _Flora_ through.

_Ped._ I hear her coming up. Thieves, Madam, Thieves! Oh Heav'ns, it is my Lord!

_Anto._ Damn'd Letcher, so it is! What, does your Courage fail you-- There, take that-- [Runs him through. And boast in Hell that _Don Antonio_'s Sword Did thee the Honour to send thee thither.

_Flor._ O Heav'ns! My fears were true, the Rogue has kill'd me. [Falls & dyes.

_Anto._ Now Monster of thy Sex, see this, and tell me What are the effects you do expect from it?

_Cæl._ Death, that's less terrible then is your Anger, Which I perceive by it's effects already, Upon that Innocent Man cannot stay there.

_Anto._ Are your concerns for him, when they should be Employ'd to Heav'n for mercy to your Soul? Nay, then Hell take it's Quarry; this for _Don Lewis_, This for _Don Francisco_; and take this last For thy insatiate Lust with that damn'd Hind.

_Cæl._ This killing me, my Lord, is very cruel; Since I ne're sinn'd in thought against your Honour. This, as I do expect Eternal Rest, Is such a Truth, that I can dye in it.

_Anto._ O Hell and Furies! This Womans impudence exceeds you all. See there a Dog just wreeking from thy Bed, Hot with the Labour you have put him to: And yet in thought you did not wrong my Honour.

_Cæl._ From my Bed, my Lord! You are abus'd; That fellow was not here full half a minute, E're your self enter'd! Oh, I can no more-- Heav'n and the World grant Pardon for my Blood. For truth it self bears witness; I dare say That more I sorrow for your guilt then Death.

_Anto._ If this be true, tell me as thou art dying, What made him here at such a time o' Night?

_Cæl._ I cannot tell more, then that the Nurse did send him; And she's run mad with guilt, or shame, or both! Oh, I can say no more--the Room turns Round; My Lord, farewell--Heav'n pardon you all Blood, As I forgive you mine--oh, oh-- [Dyes.

_Anto._ Her Death both staggers, and amazes me! Are these Dead too?

_Ped._ Not yet, my Lord, I am not. Your Sword hath left me some small time for Prayers, And it had need; for I believe few Souls Can be assur'd to find their way to heav'n Without more warning to begin their Journey. But yet I do not find much cause for doubt.

_Anto._ Nay, if thou'st hopes, by that I do conjure thee Tell me, what brought thee hither?

_Ped._ The Nurses madness; She call'd me from my Bed, and told me, _Flora_ Was sent to bid me come unto my Lady, Which though I scarce believ'd, yet I did do't.

_Anto._ Why did you say it was her madness did it?

_Ped._ My Lady said she was so, for she came Not long before shreeking into this Chamber, So as you enter'd I was going down To lock her up till morning in some Room: This, as I hope for heav'n, my Lord, is true.

_Anto._ Then 'tis as true, that I must never hope for it, For I have kill'd a Wife of such obedience-- But hold, I'le pump the Nurse--who set her on To tell me this.

[Enter Nurse frighted.

_Nurse._ O! whether will you drive me! Be gone, be gone!

_Anto._ Here, here she comes, I'le make her tell me all.

_Jasp._ But I'le prevent the story if I can.--

_Jasper_ Runs Nurse through but is staid by _Antonio_.

_Anto._ What, does the Villain mean to kill her yet?

_Jasp._ Does she not deserve it? To invent such lyes, And do such mischiefs with them.

_Nurse._ O thou damn'd Rogue! 'Twas thou that made me do't.

_Jasp._ You lying Witch, be damn'd-- [Offers at her again.

_Anto._ Forbear, you Rogue, I'le do as much for you else. Speak, why you did it?

_Nurse._ My Lord, he threaten'd me, and made me do't; And taught me to call _Pedro_ when you knockt.

_Ped._ Look to your self, my Lord, he'l kill you else.

[_Jasper_ runs _Anto._ behind.

_Jasp._ This way is only left--hell take your Tongue.

_Anto._ Ah, thou hast kill'd me; yet I have strength enough To send thy Soul to hell.

[They fight. A noise without. _Jasper_ is mortally wounded.

_Jasp._ 'Tis done, I am catch'd at last in my Own Trap. Oh, I deserve my Death for want Of fore-sight, to let him Live a spye upon my Actions. I should have serv'd you thus, and thus, And thus--and you too thus.

[Runs _Pedro_ through as he lyes, and Nurse.

_Ped._ Oh, O, O!

[_Pedro_ and Nurse Dye.

_Anto._ Infernal Monster! how his malice lasts.

_Within._ This way's the noise.

_Enter Captain, Watch, and Servant._

_Capt._ What horrid sight is this? We come too late.

_Anto._ Too late indeed, except you'd come to save The best of Wives that there lyes murder'd By my accursed hand.

_Capt._ What, _Cælia_ dead too! What made you do't, my Lord?

_Jasp._ Alas! he cannot tell; the Jealous fool Was but an Instrument in my Revenge; 'Tis only I can tell you why she dy'd. But yet I would not give that satisfaction, Did I not fear my Name would be forgotten, Except this Tale of my Revenge was known; In which I shall live famous.--

_Serv._ O thou Dogg! Dost glory in the mischiefs thou hast done?

_Jasp._ I, and have reason; name the man that ever Did in one Day contrive so many Murders, And make 'em all Successful.

_Capt._ But what should move thee to this Villainy?

_Jasp._ For that you will not wonder. I am _Jasper De Monsalvo_, Heir to that Estate This Lord doth now possess.

_Anto._ Ah Heav'ns! some of that desperate Bandity Did once attempt my life.

_Jasp._ Yes truly--

_Anto._ Poor _Cælia_, 'tis no wonder thy mind did boad Great mischiefs from this Fellow, being Son of One did still contrive to kill me, for what the King after just forfeiture for mighty services Had given my Father.

_Jasp._ O Revenge! Thy sweetness takes away the taste of Death. But you'l lose my story; which in short is this: That Lady lov'd me not, and therefore I Made her Lord Jealous, took him to a Witch, And there I fool'd him finely: Till the Jade, Who was my Aunt indeed, at your approach Would have discover'd all; which I prevented, And stopt her Mouth with this: Then I contriv'd To kill _Eugenia_, knowing she would meet _Francisco_ in the Garden; that I did Because she call'd me Villain, and refus'd To let me Whore her too, as did her Couzen; And more, I knew the simple Lord I serv'd When he had Murder'd her, as I should make him, Would thank my Care, and well reward it too: Nay, I'd have him do't for his own safety, That still the Murder might be thought _Francisco_'s; You know the rest i'th' Garden. I taught besides That damn'd Old Hagg, whose fear has made me thus, To put this trick on _Pedro_: I bid her call him When she should hear us whistle, then in haste, And all undrest send him to _Cælia_'s Chamber, Whilst we, let in, might meet him coming thence, Thinking the Cuckold's Rage would murder all, And never hear 'em speak; but there I fail'd, Their dying words betray'd me, that's the worst, Or I had liv'd to glory in their Deaths; But this my Comfort is, he'l not survive me, I have done his bus'ness too before I dye.

_Serv._ Was er'e so Impudent a Villain seen?

_Capt._ I'le try to stop his wounds, that so I may keep him for Execution.

_Jasp._ Stand off, by Hell, He that comes near me finds his Death with this! Think you I'm grown so tame to dye by Law; No, no, I'le not endure a formal Tryal, To be upbraided with those things I think Deserve a Trophy rather then Contempt, Which since I know will follow, here's my Bail, This will deliver any Man from Jayl. Let Cowards dye by hanging; such as I As we live bravely, thus dare bravely dye. [Stabs himself.

_Capt._ He has done well; no Excutioner Could have been found so bad as his own hand, And Hell will give him what he wants on Earth: And yet, my Lord, it troubles me for you, Since my Place binds me to secure your Person, To answer Law for all your Rage has done.

_Anto._ Shame almost stops my mouth; yet, Captain, know My wound won't give me time for that misfortune; Stay but a little, let me fix my Eyes On what lies here, for that alone would give me A sudden Death, had I no other hurt. I dare not hope for Heav'n, having done So black a Murder on such Innocence, And yet I do believe her Charity As it did dying, still doth beg that Pardon Might from above be granted to my soul, Which if I miss, as I have cause to fear, Then sure I shall be turn'd into a Devil For ever to Torment his Cursed soul That led me to these mischiefs. 'Twould be some ease, if Heaven but granted that, But I begin to faint! Oh, Blessed Soul Dart forth one Beam of Light, to guide the way, Or I shall always wander in the dark. Night seizes me already: yet from hence In spight of death my soul shall take her flight, Go where I will, I thus set out a right. [Dyes.

_Serv._ He's dead--

_Capt._ By dying so, at least he's thus far happy, That he Escapes the Punishments of Tryal, And the Exemplar death must have attended Which to a man so Jealous of his Fame As he was, would have been a Hell on Earth. Your Duty to your Lord will keep you safe, Yet you must to the Vice-Roy go with me To be a Witness there of what hath happn'd, The story else will seem Incredible.

_Serv._ I am ready, Sir, for all you shall Command.

_Capt._ Oh Jealousie, thou sickness of great souls, To what a Rage didst thou transport this Lord? For had his Wife been false it was not good By Murd'ring her to drown himself in Blood;

_For Lust may be Excus'd since flesh is frail, But Murder on the Soul does guilt Entail._

The Curtain Falls.

EPILOGUE

By Mr. _Harris_.

_A Tragedy, and not Heroick Verse, The Comick part fit only for a Farse; No Atheism, nor any man we know Abus'd, no repartee, nor splendid show; But very little Bawdy, and less wit, The Devil's in't, crys one, is this Play hit. Faith--may be not, and may be too it will, For Chance sometimes exceeds all rules of skill. As he who Rageing did his Pencil throw, And Painted that by chance, he could not draw For we have seen, and lately too, a Play Cry'd down by those that cannot keep away And when they come spight of themselves they stay. And to our sorrow we have others known, That for their wit have Wit it self out-done, And yet you wits, that praise 'em seldom come. So the Goodman, oft-times for cause unknown, Leaves well-drest Beauteous Wife for Homely Joan. And you that Misses keep too, I'm afraid Do sometimes make e'm Jealous of the Maid; So if this Play not drest by rules of Art Should with some Trick of Nature catch the heart; We'd give you leave to rail, and never fear, Because we're sure you'd come to do it here. Gallants you see what e're you say or do, Plays will be writ, and we shall Act 'em too. Some will for pleasure, some for profit write, Some for Applause, and some will do't in spight, Such bit by Critticks, strait run mad and bite. This does our bu'sness; but we'd have you know, We wish we'd none but true brisk wit to show, We silence wish that Men might hear a Play, And wish that Vizard Mask would keep away: But we as well might wish we were those Kings We sometimes Act, as hope to see these things. Then since to rail o'th' Stage and in the Pit, Must in this sickly Age be counted Wit; And that th' Infection cannot be subdu'd, We Actors for our own sakes do conclude, The Itch to write and rail will ne're be cur'd, And therefore faith let 'em be both Endur'd._

_FINIS._

_ERRATA._

[Transcriber's Note: These corrections were included in the printed book. The uncorrected line is given in brackets for reference. Additional changes and problems are listed at the end of this text.]

Page 17. Line 36. For _your_ read _their_. [so begging / Your Lordships Discharge, I'm gone, and then {your} / Fears are over.] p. 23. l. 19. f. _Taylors_ r. _Juglers_. [Yet I Confederate with Rogues and {Taylors}] p. 31. l. 18. r. _my fears_. [_Ger._ Farewell: May all my {} to nothing tend;] p. 38. l. 7. r. _Villain by_. [line 6, not 7: And such a {Villaine y}?--] p. 51. l. 6. f. _first_ r. _worst_. [Lose their {first} property, which is to fright."] p. 53. l. 35. f. _his_ r. _in_. [_Anto._ I, and {his} Soul retorted back the Lye,] p. 57. l. 11. f. _there_ r. _then_. [And {there} been Canoniz'd: Was it of me] p. 58. l. 36. f. _this_ r. _his_ [O Heavenly Angels lead me not {this} way,]

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

_THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY_

Announces Its

_Publications for the Third Year (1948-1949)_

[Transcriber's Note: Many of the listed titles are or will be available from Project Gutenberg. Where possible, the e-text number is given in brackets.]

_At least two_ items will be printed from each of the _three_ following groups:

Series IV: Men, Manners, and Critics

Sir John Falstaff (pseud.), _The Theatre _(1720). [#15999] Aaron Hill, Preface to _The Creation_; and Thomas Brereton, Preface to _Esther_. [#15870] Ned Ward, Selected Tracts.

Series V: Drama

Edward Moore, _The Gamester _(1753). [#16267] Nevil Payne, _Fatal Jealousy _(1673). Mrs. Centlivre, _The Busie Body _(1709). [#16740] Charles Macklin, _Man of the World _(1781).

Series VI: Poetry and Language

John Oldmixon, _Reflections on Dr. Swift's Letter to Harley _(1712); and Arthur Mainwaring, _The British Academy _(1712). Pierre Nicole, _De Epigrammate_. Andre Dacier, Essay on Lyric Poetry.

_THE AUGUSTAN REPRINT SOCIETY_

Makes Available

_Inexpensive Reprints of Rare Materials_

from

English Literature of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries

Students, scholars, and bibliographers of literature, history, and philology will find the publications valuable. _The Johnsonian News Letter_ has said of them: "Excellent facsimiles, and cheap in price, these represent the triumph of modern scientific reproduction. Be sure to become a subscriber; and take it upon yourself to see that your college library is on the mailing list."

The Augustan Reprint Society is a non-profit, scholarly organization, run without overhead expense. By careful management it is able to offer at least six publications each year at the unusually low membership fee of $2.50 per year in the United States and Canada, and $2.75 in Great Britain and the continent.

Libraries as well as individuals are eligible for membership. Since the publications are issued without profit, however, no discount can be allowed to libraries, agents, or booksellers.

New members may still obtain a complete run of the first year's publications for $2.50, the annual membership fee.

During the first two years the publications are issued in three series: I. Essays on Wit; II. Essays on Poetry and Language; and III. Essays on the Stage.

PUBLICATIONS FOR THE FIRST YEAR (1946-1947)

MAY, 1946: Series I, No. 1--Richard Blackmore's _Essay upon Wit_ (1716), and Addison's _Freeholder_ No. 45 (1716). [#13484]

JULY, 1946: Series II, No. 1--Samuel Cobb's _Of Poetry_ and _Discourse on Criticism_ (1707). [#14528]

SEPT., 1946: Series III, No. l--Anon., _Letter to A.H. Esq.; concerning the Stage_ (1698) and Richard Willis' _Occasional Paper_ No. IX (1698). [#14047]

NOV., 1946: Series I, No. 2--Anon., _Essay on Wit_ (1748), together with Characters by Flecknoe, and Joseph Warton's _Adventurer_ Nos. 127 and 133. [#14973]

JAN., 1947: Series II, No. 2--Samuel Wesley's _Epistle to a Friend Concerning Poetry_ (1700) and _Essay on Heroic Poetry_ (1693).

MARCH, 1947: Series III, No. 2--Anon., _Representation of the Impiety and Immorality of the Stage_ (1704) and anon., _Some Thoughts Concerning the Stage_ (1704). [#15656]

PUBLICATIONS FOR THE SECOND YEAR (1947-1948)