Volume Ii Part 95 (1/2)

[_Looks towards the Door_.

--He is not yet come--

_Tick_. Not yet come--that must be _Barberacho!_-- Where are ye, honest _Barberacho_, where are ye?

[_Groping towards_ Gal.

_Gal_. Hah! _Barberacho?_ that Name I am sure is us'd by none but Sir _Signal_ and his c.o.xcomb Tutor; it must be one of those--Where are ye, Signior, where are ye?

[_Goes towards him, and opens the Lanthorn--and shuts it strait_.

--Oh, 'tis the Knight,--are you there, Signior?

_Tick_. Oh, art thou come, honest Rascal--conduct me quickly, conduct me to the beautiful and fair _Silvianetta_.

[_Gives him his Hand_.

_Gal_. Yes, when your Dogs.h.i.+p's d.a.m.n'd. _Silvianetta!_ Sdeath, is she a Wh.o.r.e for Fools? [_Draws_.

_Tick_. Hah, Mr. _Galliard_, as the Devil would have it;--I'm undone if he sees me.

[_He retires hastily_, Gal. _gropes for him_.

_Gal_. Where are you, Fop? Buffoon! Knight!

[Tickletext _retiring hastily runs against_ Octavio, _who is just entering, almost beats him down_; Oct. _strikes him a good blow, beats him back and draws_: Tick, _gets close up in a corner of the Stage_; Oct. _gropes for him, as_ Gal. _does, and both meet and fight with each other_.

--What, dare you draw,--you have the impudence to be valiant then in the dark, [_they pa.s.s_.] I wou'd not kill the Rogue,--'Sdeath, you can fight then, when there's a Woman in the case!

_Oct_. I hope 'tis _Fillarnour_; [_Aside_.] You'll find I can, and possibly may spoil your making Love to night.

_Gal_. Egad, Sweet-heart, and that may be, one civil Thrust will do't;-- and 'twere a d.a.m.n'd rude thing to disappoint so fine a Woman,--therefore I'll withdraw whilst I'm well.

[_He slips out_.

_Enter Sir_ Signal, _with a Masquerading Coat over his Clothes, without a Wig or Crevat, with a dark Lanthorn_.

Sir _Sig_. Well, I have most neatly escap'd my Tutor; and in this disguise defy the Devil to claim his own.--Ah, _Caspeto de Deavilo_;-- What's that?

[_Advancing softly, and groping with his hands, meets the point of_ Oct. _Sword, as he is groping for_ Gal.

_Oct_. Traitor, darest thou not stand my Sword?

Sir _Sig_. Hah! Swords! no, Signior--_scusa mea_, Signioir,--

[_Hops to the door: And feeling for his way with his out-stretcht Arms, runs his Lanthorn in_ Julio's _face, who is just entring; finds he's oppos'd with a good push backward, and slips aside into a corner over-against_ Tickletext; Julio _meets_ Octavio, _and fights him_; Oct. _falls_, Julio _opens his Lanthorn, and sees his mistake_.

_Jut_. Is it you, Sir?

_Oct_. _Julio_! From what Mistake grew all this Violence?

_Jul_. That I shou'd ask of you, who meet you arm'd against me.

_Oct_. I find the Night has equally deceiv'd us; and you are fitly come to share with me the hopes of dear Revenge.

[_Gropes for his Lanthorn, which is dropt_.

_Jul_. I'd rather have pursu'd my kinder Pa.s.sion, Love, and Desire, that brought me forth to night.