Fulvia, Galla, Servant.
Those Rooms do smell extreamly. Bring my Glass
And Table hither.
Galla.Gal.
Madam.
Ful.
Look Within, i' my blue Cabinet, for the Pearl
I 'had sent me last, and bring it.
Gal.
That from Clodius?
Ful.
From Caius Cæsar. Yo' are for Clodius still,
Or Curius. Sirrah, if Quintus Curius come,
I am not in fit mood; I keep my Chamber:
Give warning so without.
Gal.
Is this it, Madam?
Ful.
Yes, help to hang it in mine Ear.
Gal.
Believe me,
It is a rich one, Madam.
Ful.
I hope so: It should not be worn there else. Make an end,
And bind my Hair up.
Gal.
As 'twas yesterday?
Ful.
No, nor the t'other day. When knew you me
Appear two days together in one Dressing?
Gal.
Will you ha't i' the Globe, or Spire?
Ful.
How thou wilt;
Any way, so thou wilt do it, good Impertinence.
Thy Company, if I slept not very well
A nights, would make me an errant Fool, with Questions.
Gal.
Alas, Madam ——
Ful.
Nay, gentle half o' the Dialogue, cease.
Gal.
I do it indeed but for your Exercise,
As your Physician bids me.
Ful.
How! does he bid you
To anger me for Exercise?
Gal.
Not to anger you,
But stir your Blood a little: There's difference
Between Luke-warm and Boiling, Madam.
Ful. Jove!
She means to cook me, I think. Pray you, ha' done.
Gal.
I mean to dress you, Madam.
Ful.
O, my Juno,
Be Friend to me! Off'ring at Wit too? Why,
Galla!
Where hast thou been?
Gal.
Why, Madam?
Ful.
What hast thou done
With thy poor innocent self?
Gal.
Wherefore, sweet Madam?
Ful.
Thus to come forth, so suddenly, a Wit-worm?
Gal.
It pleases you to flout one. I did dream
Of Lady Sempronia —
Ful.
O, the wonder is out.
That did infect thee? Well, and how?
Gal.
Methought
She did discourse the best —
Ful.
That ever thou heard'st?
Gal.
Yes.
Ful.
I' thy Sleep? Of what was her Discourse?
Gal.
O' the Republick, Madam, and the State,
And how she was in debt, and where she meant
To raise fresh Sums: She's a great States-woman!
Ful.
Thou dream'st all this?
Gal.
No, but you know she is, Madam;
And both a Mistris of the Latin Tongue,
And of the Greek.
Ful.
I, but I never dreamt it, Galla,
As thou hast done; and therefore you must pardon me.
Gal.
Indeed you mock me, Madam.
Ful.
Indeed, no.
Forth with your learned Lady. She has a Wit too?
Gal.
A very masculine one.
Ful.
A She- Critick, Galla?
And can compose in Verse, and make quick Jests,
Modest, or otherwise?
Gal.
Yes, Madam.
Ful.
She can sing too?
And play on Instruments?
Gal.
Of all kinds, they say.
Ful.
And doth dance rarely?
Gal.
Excellent! So well,
As a bald Senator made a Jest, and said,
'Twas better than an honest Woman need.
Ful.
Tut, she may bear that. Few wise womens honesties
Will do their courtship hurt.
Gal.
She's liberal too, Madam.
Ful.
What! of her Money, or her Honour, pr'y thee?
Gal.
Of both; you know not which she doth spare least.
Ful.
A comely Commendation.
Gal.
Troth, 'tis pity
She is in years.
Ful.
Why, Galla?
Gal.
For it is.
Ful.
O, is that all? I thought th' hadst had a Reason.
Gal.
Why, so I have. She has been a fine Lady,
And yet she dresses her self (except you, Madam)
One o' the best in Rome; and paints, and hides
Her Decays very well.
Ful.
They say, it is
Rather a Visor, than a Face, she wears.
Gal.
They
Gal.
They wrong her verily, Madam; she does sleek
With Crums of Bread and Milk, and lies a-nights
In as neat Gloves — But she is fain of late
To seek, more than she's sought to, (the fame is)
And so spends that way.
Ful.
Thou know'st all! But Galla,
What say you to Catiline's Lady, Orestilla?
There is the Gallant!
Gal.
She does well. She has
Very good Sutes, and very rich; but then
She cannot put 'em on; she knows not how
To wear a Garment. You shall have her all
Jewels and Gold sometimes, so that her self
Appears the least part of her self. No in troth,
As I live, Madam, you put 'em all down
With your meer strength of Judgment, and do draw too
The World of Rome to follow! You attire
Your self so diversly, and with that spirit!
Still to the noblest Humours! They could make
Love to your Dress, altho' your Face were away, they say.
Ful.
And Body too, and ha' the better Match on't.
Say they not so too, Galla? Now! What News
Travels your Count'nance with?
Ser.
If't please you, Madam,
The Lady Sempronia is lighted at the Gate.
Gal.
Castor, my Dream, my Dream.
Ser.
And comes to see you.
Gal.
For Venus sake, good Madam, see her.
Ful.
Peace,
The Fool is wild, I think.
Gal.
And hear her talk,
Sweet Madam, of State-matters, and the Senate.
Sempronia, Fulvia, Galla.
Fulvia, good Wench, how dost thou?
Ful.
Well, Sempronia.
Whither are you thus early addrest?
Sem.
To see Aurelia Orestilla. She sent for me.
I came to call thee with me; wilt thou go?
Ful.
I cannot now, in troth; I have some Letters
To write, and send away.
Sem.
Alas, I pity thee.
I ha' been writing all this night (and am
So very weary) unto all the Tribes,
And Centuries, for their Voices, to help Catiline
In his Election. We shall make him Consul,
I hope, amongst us. Crassus, I, and Cæsar
Will carry it for him.
Ful.
Does he stand for't?
Sem.
He's the chief Candidate.
Ful.
Who stands beside?
(Give me some Wine, and Powder for my Teeth.
Sem.
Here's a good Pearl, in troth.
Ful.
A pretty one.
Sem.
A very Orient one!) There are Competitors,
Caius Antonius, Publius Galba, Lucius
Cassius Longinus, Quintus Cornificius,
Caius Licinius, and that Talker Cicero.
But Catiline and Antonius will be chosen;
For four o' the other, Licinius, Longinus,
Galba, and Cornificius, will give way:
And Cicero they will not chuse.
Ful.
No? why?
Sem.
It will be cross'd by the Nobility.
Gal.
(How she does understand the Common Business!)
Sem.
Nor were it fit. He is but a new Fellow,
An Inmate here in Rome, (as Catiline calls him)
And the Patricians should do very ill
To let the Consulship be so defil'd
As't would be, if he obtain'd it! A meer Upstart,
That has no Pedigree, no House, no Coat,
No Ensigns of a Family!
Ful.
He has Vertue.
Sem.
Hang Vertue, where there is no Blood; 'tis Vice,
And in him Sawciness, Why should he presume
To be more Learned, or more Eloquent,
Than the Nobility? or boast any Quality
Worthy a Nobleman, himself not Noble?
Ful.
'Twas Vertue only, at first, made all Men Noble.
Sem.
I yield you, it might at first, in Rome's poor age,
When both her Kings and Consuls held the Plow,
Or Garden'd well: But now we ha' no need
To dig, or lose our Sweat for't. We have Wealth,
Fortune, and Ease; and then their Stock to spend on,
Of Name, for Vertue; which will bear us out
'Gainst all new Comers, and can never fail us,
While the Succession stays. And we must glorifie
A Mushrom? one of yesterday? a fine Speaker?
'Cause he has suckt at Athens? and advance him,
To our own loss. No, Fulvia; there are they
Can speak Greek too, if need were. Cæsar and I
Have sate upon him; so hath Crassus too,
And others. We have all decreed his Rest,
For rising farther.
Gal.
Excellent rare Lady!
Ful.
Sempronia, you are beholden to my Woman here;
She does admire you.
Sem.
O good Galla, how dost thou?
Gal.
The better for your learned Ladiship.
Sem.
Is this gray Powder a good Dentifrice?
Ful.
You see I use it.
Sem.
I have one is whiter.
Ful.
I may be so.
Sem.
Yet this smells well.
Gal.
And cleanses
Very well, Madam, and resists the Crudities.
Sem.
Fulvia, I pray thee, who comes to thee now?
Which of our great Patricians?
Ful.
Faith, I keep
No Catalogue of 'em. Sometimes I have one,
Sometimes another, as the Toy takes their Bloods.
Sem.
Thou hast them all. Faith, when was Quintus Curius,
Thy special Servant, here?
Ful.
My special Servant?
Sem.
Yes, thy Idolater, I call him.
Ful.
He may be yours,
If you do like him.
Sem. How!
Ful.
He comes not here;
I have forbid him hence.
Sem.
Venus forbid!
Ful.
Why?
Sem.
Your so constant Lover.
Ful.
So much the rather.
I would have Change. So would you too, I am sure.
And now you may have him.
Sem.
He's fresh yet, Fulvia.
Beware how you do tempt me.
Ful.
Faith, for me
He's somewhat too fresh indeed; the Salt is gone,
That gave him season. His good Gifts are done.
He does not yield the Crop that he was wont.
And for the Act, I can have secret Fellows,
With Backs worth ten of him, and shall please me
(Now that the Land is fled) a Myriad better.
Sem.
And those one may command.
Ful.
'Tis true: these Lordlings,
Your Noble Faunes, they are so imperious, saucie,
Rude, and as boisterous as Centaurs, leaping
A Lady at first sight.
Sem.
And must be born
Both with, and out, they think.
Ful.
Tut, I'll observe
None of 'em all, nor humour 'em a jot
Longer than they come laden in the Hand,
And say, Here's t'one for th'other.
Sem.
Does Cæsar give well?
Ful.
They shall all give, and pay well, that come here,
If they will have it; and that Jewels, Pearl,
Plate, or round Sums, to buy these. I'm not taken
Whith a Cob-Swan, or a high-mounting Bull,
As foolish Leda and Europa were;
But the bright Gold, with Danae. For such Price
I would endure a rough, harsh Jupiter,
Or ten such thundring Gamesters, and refrain
To laugh at 'em, till they are gone, with my much suffering.
Sem.
Th' art a most happy Wench, that thus canst make
Use of thy Youth and Freshness, in the Season;
And hast it to make use of.
Ful.
(Which is the happiness.)
Sem.
I am now fain to give to them, and keep
Musick, and a continual Table, to invite 'em.
Ful.
(Yes, and they study your Kitchen, more than you.)
Sem.
Eat my self out with Usury, and my Lord too,
And all my Officers, and Friends beside,
To procure Moneys for the needful Charge
I must be at, to have 'em; and yet scarce
Can I atchieve 'em so.
Ful.
Why, that's because
You affect young Faces only, and smooth Chins,
Sempronia. If you'ld love Beards and Bristles,
(One with another, as others do) or Wrinkles ——
Who's that? Look, Galla.
Gal.
'Tis the Party, Madam.
Ful.
What Party? Has he no name?
Gal.
'Tis Quintus Curius.
Ful.
Did
Ful.
Did I not bid 'em say I kept my Chamber?
Gal.
Why, so they do.
Sem.
I'll leave you,Fulvia.
Ful.
Nay, good Sempronia, stay.
Sem.
In faith, I will not.
Ful.
By Juno I would not see him.
Sem.
I'll not hinder you.
Gal.
You know, he will not be kept out, Madam.
Sem.
No,
Nor shall not, careful Galla, by my means.
Ful.
As I do live, Sempronia —
Sem.
What needs this?
Ful.
Go, say I am a-sleep, and ill at ease.
Sem.
By Castor, no, I'll tell him, you are awake;
And very well. Stay Galla; farewell Fulvia:
I know my manners. Why do you labour thus,
With action, against purpose? Quintus Curius,
She is, i'faith, here, and in disposition.
Ful.
Spight with your courtesie! How shall I be tor-
tur'd!
Curius, Fulvia, Galla.
Where are you, fair one, that conceal your self,
And keep your Beauty within Locks and Bars here,
Like a Fools Treasure?
Ful.
True, she was a Fool,
When first she shew'd it to a Thief.
Cur.
How, pretty sullenness!
So harsh and short?
Ful.
The Fools Artillery, Sir.
Cur.
Then take my Gown off, for th' encounter.
Ful.
Stay Sir.
I am not in the mood.
Cur.
I'll put you into't.
Ful.
Best put your self i' your case again, and keep
Your furious Appetite warm, against you have place for't.
Cur.
What! do you coy it?
Ful.
No Sir. I'am not proud.
Cur.
I would you were. You think this state becomes
you?
By Hercules, it do's not. Look i' your Glass now,
And see how scurvily that countenance shews;
You would be loth to own it.
Ful.
I shall not change it.
Cur.
Faith but you must, and slack this bended Brow;
And shoot less scorn: there is a Fortune coming
Towards you, Dainty, that will take thee thus,
And set thee aloft, to tread upon the Head
Of her own Statue here in Rome.
Ful.
I wonder,
Who let this promiser in! Did you, good Diligence?
Give him his Bribe again. Or if you had none,
Pray you demand him, why he is so venturous,
To press thus to my Chamber, being forbidden,
Both by my self and Servants?
Cur.
How! This's handsome!
And somewhat a new strain!
Ful.
'Tis not strain'd, Sir.
'Tis very natural.
Cur.
I have known it otherwise,
Between the Parties, though.
Ful.
For your fore-knowledge,
Thank that which made it. It will not be so
Hereafter, I assure you.
Cur.
No, my Mistris?
Ful.
No, though you bring the same materials.
Cur.
Hear me, You over-act when you should under-do.
A little call your self again, and think.
If you do this to practise on me' or find
At what forc'd distance you can hold your Servant;
That' it be an artificial trick to enflame,
And fire me more, fearing my Love may need it,
As heretofore you ha' done: why, proceed.
Ful.
As I ha' done heretofore?
Cur.
Yes, when you'ld fain
Your Husbands jealousie, your Servants watches,
Speak softly, and run often to the Door,
Or to the Window, form strange fears that were not;
As if the pleasure were less acceptable,
That were secure. Ful.
You are an impudent Fellow.
Cur.
And when you might better have done it at the
Gate, To take me in at the Casement.
Ful.
I take you in?
Cur.
Yes, you my Lady. And then, being a bed
with you, To have your well-taughr Waiter here, come running,
And cry, her Lord, and hide me without cause,
Crush'd in a Chest, or thrust up in a Chimney.
When he, tame Crow, was winking at his Farm;
Or, had he been here, and present, would have kept
Both Eyes, and Beak seal'd up, for six Sesterces.
Ful.
You have a slanderous, beastly, unwash'd Tongue,
I' your rude Mouth, and favouring your self,
Un-manner'd Lord.
Cur.
How now!
Ful.
It is your Title, Sir.
Who (since you ha' lost your own good Name, and
know not What to lose more) care not whose Honour you wound,
Or Fame you poyson with it. You should go
And vent your self i' the Region where you live,
Among the Suburb-brothels, Bawds, and Brokers,
Whither your broken Fortunes have design'd you.
[ He offers to force her, and she draws her Knife.
Cur.
Nay, then I must stop your fury, I see; and
pluck
The Tragick Visor off. Come, Lady Cypris,
Know your own Vertues, quickly. I'll not be
Put to the wooing of you thus, a-fresh,
At every turn, for all the Venus in you.
Yield, and be pliant, or by Pollux —— How now?
Will Lais turn a Lucrece?
Ful.
No, but by Castor,
Hold off your Ravishers Hands, I pierce your Heart else.
I'll not be put to kill my self, as she did,
For you, sweet
Tarquin.
What? do you fall off?
Nay, it becomes you graciously! Put not up.
You'll sooner draw your Weapon on me, I think it,
Than on the Senate, who have cast you forth
Disgracefully, to be the common Tale
Of the whole City; base, infamous Man!
For, were you other, you would there imploy
Your desperate Dagger.
Cur.
Fulvia, you do know
The strengths you have upon me; do not use
Your power too like a Tyrant: I can bear
Almost until you break me.
Ful.
I do know, Sir,
So do's the Senate too, know you can bear.
Cur.
By all the Gods, the Senate will smart deep
For your upbraidings. I should be right sorry
To have the means so to be veng'd on you,
(At least, the will) as I shall shortly on them.
But, go you on still; fare you well, dear Lady:
You could not still be fair, unless you were proud.
You will repent these moods, and ere't be long too.
I shall ha' you come about again.
Ful.
Do you think so?
Cur.
Yes, and I know so.
Ful.
By what Augury?
Cur.
By the fair Entrails of the Matrons Chests,
Gold, Pearl, and Jewels here in Rome, which Fulvia
Will then (but late) say that she might have shar'd:
And grieving miss.
Ful.
Tut, all your promis'd Mountains,
And Seas, I am so stalely acquainted with ——
Cur.
But, when you see the universal Flood
Run by your Coffers; that my Lords, the Senators,
Are sold for Slaves, their Wives for Bond-women,
Their Houses and fine Gardens given away,
And all their Goods, under the Spear at out-cry,
And you have none of this; but are still Fulvia,
Or perhaps less, while you are thinking of it:
You will advise then, Coiness, with your Cushion,
And look o' your Fingers; say, how you were wish'd;
And so he left you.
Ful.
Call him again, Galla:
This is not usual! something hangs on this
That I must win out of him.
Cur.
How now, melt you?
Ful.
Come,
Ful.
Come, you will laugh now, at my easiness!
But 'tis no miracle: Doves, they say, will bill,
After their pecking and their murmuring.
Cur.
Yes,
And then 'tis kindly. I would have my Love
Angry sometimes, to sweeten off the rest
Of her behaviour.
Ful.
You do see, I study
How I may please you then. But you think, Curius,
'Tis covetise hath wrought me: if you love me,
Change that unkind conceit.
Cur.
By my lov'd Soul,
I love thee, like to it; and 'tis my study,
More than mine own revenge, to make thee happy.
Ful.
And 'tis that just revenge doth make me happy
To hear you prosecute: and which, indeed,
Hath won me to you, more than all the hope
Of what can else be promis'd. I love Valour
Better than any Lady loves her Face,
Or dressing, than my self do's, Let me grow
Still, where I do embrace. But what good means
Ha' you t' effect it? Shall I know your Project?
Cur.
Thou shalt, if thou'lt be gracious.
Ful.
As I can be.
Cur.
And wilt thou kiss me then?
Ful.
As close as Shells
Of c*ckles meet.
Cur.
And print 'em deep?
Ful.
Quite through
Our subtle Lips.
Cur.
And often?
Ful.
I will sow 'em
Faster than you can reap. What is your Plot?
Cur.
Why, now my Fulvia looks like her bright name!
And is her self!
Ful.
Nay, answer me, your Plot;
I pr'y thee tell me, Quintus.
Cur.
I, these Sounds
Become a Mistris. Here is Harmony!
When you are harsh, I see the way to bend you
Is not with violence, but service. Cruel,
A Lady is a fire: gentle, a light.
[She kisses and flatters him along still.
Ful.
Will you not tell me, what I ask you?
Cur.
All That I can think, sweet Love, or my Breast holds,
I'll pour into thee.
Ful.
What is your design then?
Cur.
I'll tell thee, Catiline shall now be Consul:
But you will hear more shortly.
Ful.
Nay, dear love ——
Cur.
I'll speak it in thine Arms, let us go in.
Rome will be sack'd, her Wealth will be our prize;
By publick ruine, private Spirits must rise.
C H O R U S.
Great Father Mars, and greater Jove,
By whose high auspice, Rome hath stood
So long; and first was built in Blood
Of your great Nephew, that then strove
Not with his Brother, but your rites:
Be present to her now, as then,
And let not proud and factious Men
Against your wills oppose their mights.
Our Consuls, now are to be made;
O, put it in the publick voice
To make a free and worthy choice:
Excluding such as would invade
The Commonwealth. Let whom we name,
Have wisdom, fore-sight, fortitude,
Be more with Faith than Face endu'd,
And study Conscience, above Fame.
Such, as not seek to get the start
In State, by Power, Parts, or Bribes,
Ambitions Bawds: but move the Tribes
By Vertue, Modesty, Desert.
Such, as to Justice will adhere,
What ever great one it offend:
And from the embraced truth not bend
For envy, hatred, gifts, or fear.
That by their deeds will make it known,
Whose Dignity they do sustain;
And Life, State, Glory, all they gain,
Count the Republicks, not their own.
Such the old Bruti, Decii were,
The Cipi, Curtii, who did give
Themselves for Rome: and would not live
As Men, good only for a year.
Such were the great Camilli, too;
The Fabii, Scipio's; that still thought
No work at price enough was bought,
That for their Country they could do.
And to her honour, so did knit;
As all their acts were understood
The Sinews of the publick good:
And they themselves, one Soul, with it.
These Men were truly Magistrates;
These neither practis'd force, nor forms;
Nor did they leave the Helm in storms!
And such they are make happy States.