SCENE I.--_A Room in_ AQUILINA'S _House_.

_Enter_ AQUILINA _and her_ Maid.

_Aquil._ Tell him I am gone to bed: tell him I am not at home: tell him I've better company with me, or anything; tell him, in short, I will not see him, the eternal troublesome vexatious fool; he's worse company than an ignorant physician. I'll not be disturbed at these unseasonable hours.

_Maid._ But, madam, he's here already, just entered the doors.

_Aquil._ Turn him out again, you unnecessary, useless, giddy-brained ass! If he will not be gone, set the house a-fire, and burn us both: I had rather meet a toad in my dish than that old hideous animal in my chamber to-night.

_Enter_ ANTONIO.[68]

_Ant._ Nacky, Nacky, Nacky--how dost do, Nacky? Hurry durry! I am come, little Nacky; past eleven o'clock, a late hour; time in all conscience to go to bed, Nacky--Nacky did I say? Ay, Nacky; Aquilina, lina, lina, quilina, quilina, quilina, Aquilina, Naquilina, Naquilina, Acky, Acky, Nacky, Nacky, queen Nacky--come, let's to bed--you fubbs, you pug you--you little puss--purree tuzzy--I am a senator.

_Aquil._ You are a fool, I am sure.

_Ant._ Maybe so too, sweetheart. Never the worse senator for all that. Come, Nacky, Nacky, let's have a game at romp, Nacky.

_Aquil._ You would do well, signior, to be troublesome here no longer, but leave me to myself; be sober, and go home, sir.

_Ant._ Home, Madonna?

_Aquil._ Ay, home, sir. Who am I?

_Ant._ Madonna, as I take it, you are my--you are--thou art my little Nicky Nacky--that's all!

_Aquil._ I find you are resolved to be troublesome; and so, to make short of the matter in few words, I hate you, detest you, loathe you, I am weary of you, sick of you. Hang you, you are an old, silly, impertinent, impotent, solicitous coxcomb; crazy in your head and lazy in your body, love to be meddling with every thing; and if you had not money, you are good for nothing.

_Ant._ Good for nothing! Hurry durry, I'll try that presently. Sixty-one years[69] old, and good for nothing! that's brave. [_To the Maid._] Come, come, come, Mistress Fiddle-faddle, turn you out for a season; go, turn out, I say; it is our will and pleasure to be private some moments--out, out when you are bid too--[_Puts her out and locks the door._] Good for nothing, you say?

_Aquil._ Why, what are you good for?

_Ant._ In the first place, madam, I am old, and consequently very wise, very wise, Madonna, d'ye mark that? in the second place, take notice, if you please, that I am a senator, and when I think fit can make speeches, Madonna. Hurry durry, I can make a speech in the Senate-house, now and then, would make your hair stand on end, Madonna.

_Aquil._ What care I for your speeches in the Senate-house? If you would be silent here, I should thank you.

_Ant._ Why, I can make speeches to thee too, my lovely Madonna; for example [_Takes out a purse of gold, and at every pause shakes it_]:--

My cruel fair one, since it is my fate That you should with your servant angry prove, Though late at night, I hope 'tis not too late With this to gain reception for my love.

There's for thee, my little Nicky Nacky--take it; here, take it--I say take it, or I'll throw it at your head--how now, rebel!

_Aquil._ Truly, my illustrious senator, I must confess your honour is at present most profoundly eloquent indeed.

_Ant._ Very well: come, now let's sit down and think upon't a little--come sit, I say--sit down by me a little, my Nicky Nacky, hah--[_Sits down_] Hurry durry--good for nothing!

_Aquil._ No, sir; if you please, I can know my distance and stand.

_Ant._ Stand: how? Nacky up, and I down! Nay, then let me exclaim with the poet:--

Show me a case more pitiful who can, A standing woman, and a falling man.

Hurry durry--not sit down--see this, ye gods! You won't sit down?

_Aquil._ No, sir.

_Ant._ Then look you, now, suppose me a bull, a Basan-bull, the bull of bulls, or any bull. Thus up I get, and with my brows thus bent--I broo, I say, I broo, I broo, I broo. You won't sit down, will you? I broo---- [_Bellows like a bull, and drives her about._

_Aquil._ Well, sir; I must endure this. [_She sits_ _down._] Now your honour has been a bull, pray what beast will your worship please to be next?

_Ant._ Now I'll be a senator again, and thy lover, little Nicky Nacky! [_He sits by her._] Ah, toad, toad, toad, toad! spit in my face a little, Nacky--spit in my face, pr'ythee spit in my face, never so little: spit but a little bit--spit, spit, spit, spit, when you are bid, I say; do, pr'ythee spit--now, now, now spit. What, you won't spit, will you? then I'll be a dog.

_Aquil._ A dog, my lord?

_Ant._ Ay, a dog--and I'll give thee this t'other purse to let me be a dog--and to use me like a dog a little. Hurry durry--I will--here 'tis. [_Gives the purse._

_Aquil._ Well; with all my heart. But let me beseech your dogship to play your tricks over as fast as you can, that you may come to stinking the sooner, and be turned out of doors, as you deserve.

_Ant._ Ay, ay--no matter for that--[_He gets under the table_]--that shan't move me--now, bough waugh waugh, bough waugh! [_Barks like a dog._

_Aquil._ Hold, hold, hold, sir, I beseech you; what is't you do? If curs bite, they must be kicked, sir. Do you see? kicked thus.

_Ant._ Ay, with all my heart: do, kick, kick on; now I am under the table, kick again--kick harder--harder yet. Bough waugh waugh, waugh, bough--odd, I'll have a snap at thy shins--bough waugh waugh, waugh, bough--odd, she kicks bravely.

_Aquil._ Nay then, I'll go another way to work with you; and I think here's an instrument fit for the purpose. [_Fetches a whip and a bell._] What, bite your mistress, sirrah! out, out of doors, you dog, to kennel and be hanged! Bite your mistress by the legs, you rogue! [_She whips him._

_Ant._ Nay, pr'ythee Nacky, now thou art too loving: hurry durry, odd, I'll be a dog no longer.

_Aquil._ Nay, none of your fawning and grinning: but begone, or here's the discipline: what, bite your mistress by the legs, you mongrel? Out of doors--hout, hout, to kennel, sirrah! go.

_Ant._ This is very barbarous usage, Nacky, very barbarous: look you, I will not go--I will not stir from the door, that I resolve--hurry durry, what, shut me out? [_She whips him out._

_Aquil._ Ay; and it you come here any more to-night, I'll have my footmen lug you, you cur! What, bite your poor mistress Nacky, sirrah?

_Enter_ Maid,

_Maid._ Heavens, madam! what's the matter?

[_He howls at the door like a dog._

_Aquil._ Call my footmen hither presently.

_Enter two_ Footmen.

_Maid._ They are here already, madam; the house is all alarmed with a strange noise, that nobody knows what to make of.

_Aquil._ Go all of you and turn that troublesome beast in the next room out of my house; if I ever see him within these walls again, without my leave for his admittance, you sneaking rogues, I'll have you poisoned all, poisoned, like rats; every corner of the house shall stink of one of you: go, and learn hereafter to know my pleasure. [_Exeunt_ Footmen _and_ Maid.] So, now for my Pierre:

Thus when the godlike lover was displeased, We sacrifice our fool, and he's appeased. [_Exit._