'Tis Pity She's a Whore/Act III Scene V
[SCENA QUINTA. A room in Richardetto's house.]
Enter Grimaldi.
Grimaldi. Now if the doctor keepe his word, Soranzo,Twenty to one you misse your bride. I know'Tis an unnoble act, and not becomesA souldiers vallour; but in termes of love,5Where merit cannot sway, policy must.I am resolv'd; if this phisitianPlay not on both hands, then Soranzo falls.Enter Richardetto. Richardetto. You are come as I could wish; this very nightSoranzo, 'tis ordain'd, must bee affied[1] 10To Annabella, and, for ought I know,Married. Gri.How! Rich.Yet your patience:—The place, 'tis Fryar[2] Bonaventures cell.Now I would wish you to bestow this nightIn watching thereabouts; 'tis but a night:15If you misse now, to morrow I'le know all. Gri. Have you the poyson? Rich.Here, 'tis in this box:Doubt nothing, this will doe't; in any case,As you respect your life, be quicke and sure. Gri. I'le speede him. Rich.Doe. Away! for 'tis not safe20You should be seene much here. Ever my love!Exit Gri. Gri. And mine to you. Rich. So! if this hitt, I'le laugh and hug revenge;And they that now dreame of a wedding-feastMay chance to mourne the lusty bridegromes ruine.25But to my other businesse. Neice Philotis!Enter Philotis. Philotis. Unkle. Rich. My lovely neece,You have bethought 'ee? Phi.Yes, and, as you counsel'd, Fashion'd my heart to love him, but hee sweares30Hee will to night be married; for he fearesHis unkle else, if hee should know the drift,Will hinder all, and call his couze to shrift. Rich. To night? why, best of all; but let mee see—I—ha!—yes,—so it shall be; in disguise35Wee'le earley to the fryars; I have thought on't.Enter Bergetto and Poggio. Phi. Unkle, hee comes. Rich.Welcome, my worthy couze. Bergetto. Lasse, pretty lasse, come busse, lasse! Aha, Poggio! [Rich.] [aside]. There's hope of this yet.[3]You shall have time enough; withdraw a little;Wee must conferre at large.40 Ber. Have you not sweete-meates or dainty devices for me? Phi. You shall enough, sweet-heart. Ber. Sweet-heart! marke that, Poggio. Bymy troth, I cannot choose but kisse thee oncemore for that word "sweet-heart." Poggio, I45have a monstrous swelling about my stomacke,whatsoever the matter be. Poggio. You shall have phisick for't, sir. Rich. Time runs apace. Ber. Time's a blockhead. 50 Rich. Be rul'd: when wee have done what's fitt to doe,Then you may kisse your fill, and bed her too.Exeunt.