« PreviousContinue »
A little toysome;— tis a pretty sign
Cam. Such news, madam,
Flav. I must be with child, then,
Cam. Sweet fates forbid it!
Enter FABRICIO. Fab. Noblest lady
Flav. Let him stay;
Fab. Your poor creature, lady;
your gentleness, please you to consider
Flav. Give it from him.
and delivers it to FLAV. who walks aside with
it.]—Mark, Vespucci, how the wittol 5 All hope of my last fortunes.] Meaning probably (for the language is constrained) “ my final hope, my last resource.' The object of this request appears to be more money to enable him to expatriate himself.
Ves. Good reason:
Cam. Most punctually: Could call him by his name too! why 'tis possible, She has not yet forgot he was her husband. Ves. That were [most] strange: oh, 'tis a pre
Cam. The tale
Ves. He stands
Cam. No more.
Of what your scrivener (which, in effect,
6 He stands
Just like Acteon in the painted cloth.] i.e. in the act of gazing at Diana, in a posture of mingled awe and surprize. There is some humour in the expression. VOL. II.
You are a faulty man; and should we urge
Fab. Great lady,
Cam. So, so!
[Aside to Ves. Ves. Why, here's a lady worshipful!
Flav. Pray, gentlemen,
Both. As you please. [Exeunt Ves. and Flav.
cruel Since I find some small leisure, I must justify Thou art unworthy of the name of man. Those holy vows, which we, by bonds of faith, Recorded in the register of truth, Were kept by me unbroken; no assaults Of gifts, of courtship, from the great and wanton, No threats, nor sense of poverty, to which Thy riots had betray'd me, could betray My warrantable thoughts to impure folly. Why would'st thou force me miserable?
Fab. The scorn Of rumour is reward enough, to brand My lewder actions; 'twas, I thought, impossible, A beauty fresh as was your youth, could brook The last of my decays.
Flav. Did I complain? My sleeps between thine arms were ev'n as sound, My dreams as harmless, my contents as free, As when the best of plenty crown'd our bride-bed. Amongst some of a mean, but quiet, fortune, Distrust of what they call their own, or jealousy Of those whom in their bosoms they possess Without controul, begets a self-unworthiness; For which (through] fear, or, what is worse, desire Of paltry gain, they practise art, and labour To pandar their own wives; those wives, whose
innocence, Stranger to language, spoke obedience only; And such a wife was Flavia to Fabricio.
Fab. My loss is irrecoverable.
Flav. Call not
Fab. 'Tis confest,
Flav. I live happy
Fab. You are an angel rather to be worshipp'd,
Flav. [Gives him money.] Keep those ducats,
Fab. I will do't,
Flav. You may prosper
this antick carriage.] This childish and ridiculous affectation of levity, which she assumed, partly to humour the count, but chiefly, as she afterwards says, to defeat the “ lascivious villanies” of her attendants, Camillo and Vespucci.
8 My days in silent sadness.] The old copy has goodness, evidently repeated, by mistake, from the word immediately above it. Sadness is not given as the author's expression, but as conveying what might, perhaps, have been his meaning.