Volume Ii Part 96 (1/2)

_Mar_. This must be he.

[_Goes up to 'em_.

_Gal_. Come, come, your Song, Boy, your Song.

_Whilst 'tis singing, Enter_ Octavio, Julio, c.r.a.pine, _and Bravos_.

The SONG.

_Crudo Amore, Crudo Amore,

Il mio Core non fa per te

bis Suffrir non vo tormenti Senza mai sperar mar ce Belta che sia Tiranna, Belta che sia Tiranna Doll meo offerto recetto non e Il tuo rigor singunna Se le pene Le catene Tenta auolgere al mio pie See see Crudel Amore

Il mio Core non fa per te.

bis

Lusinghiero, Lusinghiero,

Pui non Credo alta tua fe

bis L' incendio del tuo foce Nel mio Core pui vivo none Belta che li die Luoce Belta che li die Luoce Ma il rigor L'Ardore s'bande Io non sato tuo gioce Ch' il Veleno Del mio seno Vergoroso f.a.ggito se n'e.

See see Crudel Amore

Il mio Core non fa per te_.

bis

_Oct_. 'Tis they we look for, draw and be ready.--

_Tick_. Hah, draw--then there's no safety here, _certo_. [_Aside_.

[Octavio, Julio _and their Party draw, and fight with_ Fil.

_and_ Gal. Marcella _ingages on their side; all fight, the Musick confusedly amongst 'em:_ Gal. _loses his Sword, and in the hurry gets a Base Viol, and happens to strike_ Tickletext, _who is getting away--his Head breaks its way quite through, and it hangs about his neck; they fight out_.

Enter_ Petro _with a Lanthorn. Sir_ Signal _stands close still_.

_Tick_. Oh, undone, undone! where am I, where am I?

_Pet_. Hah--that's the voice of my amorous _Ananias_,--or I am mistaken-- what the Devil's the matter?

[_Opens his Lanthorn_.

--Where are ye, Sir?--hah, cuts so--what new-found Pillory have we here?

_Tick_. Oh, honest _Barberacho_, undo me, undo me quickly.

_Pet_. So I design, Sir, as fast as I can--or lose my aim--there, Sir, there: All's well--I have set you free, come follow me the back way into the house.

[_Ex_. Pet. _and_ Tickletext.

_Enter_ Fillamour _and_ Marcella, _with their Swords drawn_, Gal. _after 'em_.

_Gal_. A plague upon 'em, what a quarter's here for a Wench, as if there were no more i'th' Nation?--wou'd I'd my Sword again.

[_Gropes for it_.