The Fatal Jealousie (1673) Part 12
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1. Spir. _Declare to that Lord what you know._
2. Spir. _I need not, the cause he did dye Was that truth to him known long ago._
Chor. _He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, and now For hot desires, In endless fires Must Live, must now forever Live with us below._
Chor. _He's dead, he's dead, &c._
_Anto._ Horrid and wonderful.
1. Spir. _Who all _Caelia's_ Crimes does know?_
2. Spir. _It is I, but must not shew All her ill, For I will_
[Third Spirit Ascends.
_Fit her better e're she go To her Paramour below._
3. Spir. _But I that _Francisco_ attend, Can declare, That he as a Friend To _Don Lewis_ doth share I'th' stolen Embraces of _Caelia's_ sweet Arms; They kiss and lye down, Then _Lewis_ bemoan, Thus with thoughts of Revenge they double Loves charms._
Chor. _They kiss and lye, &c._
_Anto._ Thus I have warm'd a Viper in my bosom, That wanted only heat enough to sting me, And give me Death it self.
1. Spir. _After him can _Pedro_ stay til't be day; Thus they sport the Night away, _Flora_ watching whilst they do Laugh at you, Saying, where's the Cuckold now?_
1. Spir. _They sport._
2. Spir. _They laugh._
3. Spir. _They kiss and play, Till your return, doth make e'm mourn, And spoils their Holy~day._
Chor. _Thus they will do untill they dye, When we in h.e.l.l, shall think it well To have their pleasant Company._
[They Descend.
_Anto._ And that shall be this Night; make ready then Fires that may fit so brave a pack of Letchers; If you delight in Offerings; and for Gold Can but increase their Torments, I will sell All my Estate to turn it into that, Daily to add more fewel to their flames.
Let Fools that spend their Wealth on Priests for Prayers, Be Cheated still, I'le take a surer way, Torments for Souls are penny-worths I'le buy, And there is Reason in it; for 'tis likely h.e.l.l may take Bribes, when surely Heav'n won't.
Oh Excellent project! Is't not a good one, _Jasper_?
By h.e.l.l it self, this Night h.e.l.l hath e'm all.
_Witch._ Your Lords.h.i.+p's much disturb'd, I by my Art Will cause the Air to give a Melody, So to compose your Spirits to themselves.
[She waves her stick. Musick and an Antick Dance of Devils handing the Purse (_Antonio_ threw) to one another, toward the Close of which a noise without makes both Musick and Dance stop: But beginning again, a noise within makes e'm flye. The Witch trembles.
_Within._ Break op'e the doors, nay, sure enough they're here.
_Anto._ By Heav'n some Cheat, for these can be no Devils.
I'le follow e'm, and see-- [Draws his Sword.
_Jasp._ It is some trick to draw you from the Circle.
[_Jasp._ holds him.
_Anto._ Be what it will, Death cannot make me worse; Unhand me then, or I will sheath this in you.
[Exit.
_Witch._ O, we're undone, the Officers will enter, [Noise continues.
And my Lord will see the holes they creep into, And so discover them, then we shall all be hang'd.
I'le tell my Lord the truth of all the Cheat, And that way save my Life.
_Jasp._ What's that? No stratagem to help it?
Have you no hole near us, Aunt?
_Witch._ Yes, here is one, but should we go into't, The other taken once, will soon betray us.
_Jasp._ I'le hazzard that, rather then certain Death.
And therefore to save one, I'le hide you there.
[Kills her.
_Witch._ O thou ungrateful Dog, dost kill me for my Love?
_Jasp._ No muttering, Aunt, dye quietly, and lye as Quietly; 'tis the greatest kindness you can Do me; So, now a ready lye clears all I hope.
[Runs her through often, then throws her into the hole, she shun'd him, then lyes down and trembles.
_Enter _Antonio_._
_Anto._ The Officers entring, they all vanish'd.
_Jasp._ The last is well.
_Anto._ Where's the Witch? What makes you tremble so?
_Jasp._ O, do not take me too, good Devil, do not.
_Anto._ What ayls the Fellow? _Jasper_, don't you know me?
_Jasp._ Alas, is't you, my Lord?
_Anto._ Ay, where's the Witch?
_Jasp._ She got upon a fiery Dragons back, And mounted like a Rocket through the Air, Leaving me half distracted.
_Anto._ 'Tis strange and wonderful.
[Enter Captain and Watch.
_1. Watch._ Here's two of them.
_Capt._ My Lord _Antonio_! 'Tis strange to meet you thus In a suspitious House so late in the Evening.
The Fatal Jealousie (1673) Part 12
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The Fatal Jealousie (1673) Part 12 summary
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