DRAMATIS PERSONE. Duke of Mantua. Prince FREDERICK, his son. CAMILLO, his friend. MARIO, Governor of Rome. ASCANIO, page of honour to the Prince. BENITO, Servant to AURELIAN. VALERIO, confidant to the Duke. FABIO, Servant to MARIO. SOPHRONIA, Abbess of the Torr' di Specchi. LUCRETIA, a Lady designed to be a Ñun. HIPPOLITA, a Nun. Laura, VIOLETTA, } Sisters, nieces to MARIO. FRONTONA, lets Lodgings. SCENE-Rome. * ** THE ASSIGNATION OR, LOVE IN A NUNNERY. ACT I. SCENE I-A Room, a great glass placed. f Enter BENITO, with a guitar in his hand. Ben. [Bowing to the glass.] Save you, sweet Signior Benito; by my faith I am glad to see you look so bonnily to-day. Gad, sir, every thing becomes you to a miracle: your peruke, your clothes, your hat, your shoe-ties; and, gad, sir, let me tell you, you become every thing; you walk with such a grace, and you bow so pliantly! Aurelian. [Within.] Benito, where are you, sirrah? Ben. Sirrah! That my damned master should call a man of my extraordinary endowments, sirrah! A man of my endowments? Gad, I ask my own pardon, I mean a person of my endowments; for a man of my parts and talents, though he be but a valet de chambre, is a person; and let me tell my master-Gad, I frown too, as like a person as any jack-gentleman of them all; but, gad, when I do 7 not frown, I am an absolute beauty, whatever this glass says to the contrary; and, if this glass deny it, 'tis a base lying glass; so I'll tell it to its face, and kick it down into the bargain. Aur. [Within.] Why, Benito, how long shall we stay for you? Ben. I come, sir.-What the devil would he have? But, by his favour, I'll first survey my dancing, and my singing. [He plays on the guitar, and dances and sings to the glass.] I think that was not amiss: I think so. Gad, I can dance [Lays down the guitar.] and play no longer, I am in such a rapture with myself. What a villanous fate have I! With all these excellencies, and a profound wit, and yet to be a serving-man! Enter AURELIAN and CAMILLO. Aur. Why, you slave, you dog, you son of twenty fathers, am I to be served at this rate eternally? A pox of your conceited coxcomb! Cam. Nay, pr'ythee, Aurelian, be not angry. Aur. You do not know this rogue, as I do, Camillo. Now, by this guitar, and that great lookingglass, I am certain how he has spent his time. He courts himself every morning in that glass at least an hour; there admires his own person, and his parts, and studies postures and grimaces, to make himself yet more ridiculous than he was born to be. Cam. You wrong him, sure. Aur. I do; for he is yet more fool than I can speak him. I never sent him on a message, but he runs first to that glass, to practise how he may become his errand.-Speak, is this a lie, sirrah? Ben. I confess, I have some kindness for the mirror. Aur. The mirror! there's a touch of his poetry too; he could not call it a glass. Then the rogue has the impudence to make sonnets, as he calls them; and, which is greater impudence, he sings them too; there's not a street in all Rome which he does not nightly disquiet with his villanous serenade; with that guitar there, the younger brother of a cittern, he frights away the watch; and for his violin, it squeaks so lewdly, that Sir Tibert* in the gutter mistakes him for his mistress. 'Tis a mere cat-call. Cam. Is this true, Benito? Ben. to Cam. [Aside.] My master, sir, may say his pleasure; I divert myself sometimes with hearing him. Alas, good gentleman, 'tis not given to all persons to penetrate into men's parts and qualities; but I look on you, sir, as a man of judgment, and therefore you shall hear me play and sing. [He takes up the guitar, and begins. Aur. Why, you invincible sot you, will nothing mend you? Lay it down, or Ben. to Cam. Do ye see, sir, this enemy to the muses? he will not let me hold forth to you. [Lays down the guitar.] O envy and ignorance, whither will you!-But, gad, before I'll suffer my parts to be kept in obscurity Aur. What will you, rascal? Ben. Ay, do, kick till your toes ache; I'll be baffled in my music by ne'er a foot in Christendom. Aur. I'll put you out of your tune, with a vengeance to you. represen * A common name for a cat, being that by which the tative of the feline race is distinguished in the History of Reynard the Fox. See Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. [AS AURELIAN kicks harder, BENITO sings faster, and sometimes cries out. Cam. holding Aur. Nay, then, 'tis time to stickle.* Hold, Aurelian, pr'ythee spare Benito, you know we have occasion for him. Aur. I think that was well kicked. Ben. And I think that was well sung too. Cam. Enough, Aurelian, Ben. No, sir; let him proceed to discourage virtue, and see what will come on it. Cam. Now to our business. instruct Benito. But we must first Aur. Be ruled by me, and do not trust him. I prophesy he'll spoil the whole affair; he has a worm in his head as long as a conger, a brain so barren of all sense, and yet so fruitful of foolish plots, that if he does not all things his own way, yet, at least, he'll ever be mingling his designs with yours, and go halves with you; so that, what with his ignorance, what with his plotting, he'll be sure to ruin you with an intention to serve you. For my part, I had turned him off long since, but that my wise father commanded the contrary. Cam. Still you speak, as if what we did were choice, and not necessity. You know their uncle is suspicious of me, and consequently jealous of all my servants; but if we employ yours, who is not suspected, because you are a stranger, I doubt not to get an assignation with the younger sister. Aur. Well, use your own way, Camillo; but if it ever succeed with his management--+ Cam. You must understand then, Benito, that this old Signior Mario has two nieces, with one of which I am desperately in love, and Ben.[Aside to him.] I understand you already, sir, *Stickle. To interfere. |