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Updated: June 11, 2025
The latter was the work of a certain Bartollomeo. It is really the text published originally in the "Collectio Chirurgica Veneta" of 1546, of which the preface says: "His acceserunt Rogerii ac Guil.
Shall I submit to Fetters, and see my Mistress ravish'd by any great Turk in Christendom, and not fight? Isa. I'd rather be ravish'd a thousand times, than you should venture your Person. Fran. Ay, I dare swear. Enter Seaman. Sea. Ah, Sirs, what mean you? Come on the Deck for shame. Ant. Guil. Fran. Oh, how they thunder! Isa. Fran.
Till Night, no; whate'er it be, I wou'd not be without an Inch of that Ceremony, that may compleat my Honour for the World; no, for Heaven's sake, let's retire, and dub me presently. Guil. Time enough, time enough. Isa. You love me not, that can deny me this. Guil. Love no, we are married now, and People of our Quality never Love after Marriage; 'tis not great. Isa.
Morrow, morrow, Friend. Ant. My Lord, your most humble Servant. Guil. About Eight, my Lord. Ant. Your Lordship's early up. Guil.
Ay, and deaf too, I'll be sworn, he cou'd neither hear, see nor understand; this Love's a miraculous thing. Guil. And that Minute, the most renoun'd Don Gulielmo Roderigo de Chimeny Sweperio, became your Gally-Slave, I say no more, but that I do love, and I will love, and that if you are but half so willing as I, I will dub you, Viscountess de Chimeny Sweperio. Isa. I am in Heaven, ah!
Peace, Child, peace, the Ladies understand Dueling as little as my self; but, since you are so tender-hearted, Ladies, I'll not shew you my wound; but faith, it spoiled my dancing. My Lord, now you talk of dancing, here's your Baggage brought from a-board the Gally by your Seamen, who us'd to entertain you with their rustick Sports. Guil.
What a Dishonour's this to me, to have so dull a Father, that needs to be instructed in his Duty. Guil. But, Sir, to open the eyes of your understanding here's a Letter to you, from your Correspondent a Merchant of Sevil. Fran. Cry Mercy, my Lord, and yet I wou'd he were a thousand Leagues off. Guil. Isa.
That thou shalt be. Guil. I'll do't, say no more, I'll do't. Car. But canst thou swear stoutly, and lye handsomely. Guil. Prettily, by Nature, Sir, but with good instructions I shall improve; I thank Heaven I have Docity, or so. Car. Thou want'st not Confidence. Guil. No, nor Impudence neither; how should a man live in this wicked world without that Talent? Ant.
You must disrobe anon, and do'n your native Habiliments and in the Equipage give that fair Viscountess to understand the true quality of her Husband. Guil. Hum I'm afraid, 'tis a harder task to leap from a Lord to a Rogue, than 'tis from a Rogue to a Lord. Ant. Not at all, we have examples of both daily. Guil.
Nay, let's retire, and compleat my Quality, and you will find me a Wife of the Mode, I'll warrant you. Guil. For once you have prevail'd. Enter Francisco. Fran. Whither away? Isa. Fran. Consummate! Isa. Fran. Hum this Turkey Air has a notable faculty, where the Women are all plaguy kind. Enter Carlos and Julia. Car. By Heav'n, each Moment makes me more your Slave. Fran. The Business is done. Jul.
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