Act I, Scene III — [2638]
A Song.
Enter MALEVOLE after the song.
[Pietro.] See, he comes. Now shall you hear the extremity of a malcontent: he is as free as air; he blows over every man.—And, sir, whence come you now? 4
Mal. From the public place of much dissimulation, [the church.][2639]
Pietro. What, didst there?
Mal. Talk with a usurer; take up at interest. 9
Pietro. I wonder what religion thou art [of]?[2639]
Mal. Of a soldier’s religion.
Pietro. And what dost thou think makes most infidels now? 14
Mal. Sects, sects. I have seen seeming Piety change her robe so oft, that sure none but some arch-devil can shape her a new petticoat.
Pietro. O, a religious policy.
Mal. But, damnation on a politic religion! I am weary: would I were one of the duke’s hounds now! 21
Pietro. But what ’s the common news abroad, Malevole? Thou dogg’st rumour still.
Mal. Common news? Why, common words are, “God save ye,” “Fare ye well;” common (25) actions, flattery and cozenage; common things, women and cuckolds.—And how does my little Ferrard? Ah, ye lecherous animal!—my little ferret, he goes sucking up and down the palace into every hen’s nest, like a weasel:— (30) and to what dost thou addict thy time to now more than to those antique painted drabs that are still affected of[2640] young courtiers, Flattery, Pride, and Venery? 34
Fer. I study languages. Who dost think to be the best linguist of our age?
Mal. Phew! the devil: let him possess thee; he’ll teach thee to speak all languages most readily and strangely; and great reason, marry, he’s travel’d greatly i’ the world, and is everywhere. 41
Fer. Save i’ th’ court.
Mal. Ay, save i’ th’ court.—(To BILIOSO.) And how does my old muckhill, overspread with fresh snow? Thou half a man, half a 45 goat, all a beast! how does thy young wife, old huddle?
Bil. Out, you improvident rascal!
Mal. Do, kick thou hugely-horn’d old duke’s ox, good Master Make-pleas. 50
Pietro. How dost thou live nowadays, Malevole?
Mal. Why, like the knight, Sir Patrick Penlolians, with killing o’ spiders for my lady’s monkey. 55
Pietro. How dost spend the night? I hear thou never sleep’st.
Mal. O, no; but dream the most fantastical! O heaven! O fubbery, fubbery![2641]
Pietro. Dream! What dream’st? 60
Mal. Why, methinks I see that signior pawn his footcloth,[2642] that metreza[2643] her plate: this madam takes physic that t’ other monsieur may minister to her: here is a pander jewel’d; there a fellow in shift of satin this day, that (65) could not shift a shirt t’ other night: here a Paris supports that Helen; there’s a Lady Guinever bears up that Sir Lancelot. Dreams, dreams, visions, fantasies, chimeras, imaginations, tricks, conceits!—(To PREPASSO.) Sir (70) Tristram, Trimtram, come aloft, Jack-an-apes,[2644] with a whim-wham: here’s a knight of the land of Catito shall play at trap[2645] with any page in Europe; do the sword-dance with any morris-dancer in Christendom; ride at the ring till (75) the fin[2646] of his eyes look as blue as the welkin; and run the wildgoose-chase even with Pompey the Huge.
Pietro. You run! 79
Mal. To the devil. Now, signior Guerrino, that thou from a most pitied prisoner shouldst grow a most loath’d flatterer!—Alas, poor Celso, thy star’s opprest: thou art an honest lord: ’t is pity.
Equato. Is ’t pity? 85
Mal. Ay, marry is ’t, philosophical Equato; and ’t is pity that thou, being so excellent a scholar by art, should be so ridiculous a fool by nature.—I have a thing to tell you, duke: bid ’em avaunt, bid ’em avaunt. 90
Pietro. Leave us, leave us. Exeunt all saving PIETRO and MALEVOLE. Now, sir, what is ’t?
Mal. Duke, thou art a becco,[2647] a cornuto.[2648]
Pietro. How!
Mal. Thou art a cuckold. 95
Pietro. Speak, unshale[2649] him quick.
Mal. With most tumbler-like nimbleness.
Pietro. Who? By whom? I burst with desire. 99
Mal. Mendoza is the man makes thee a horn’d beast; duke, ’t is Mendoza cornutes thee.
Pietro. What conformance?[2650] Relate; short, short.
Mal. As a lawyer’s beard. 105 There is an old crone in the court, her name is Maquerelle, She is my mistress, sooth to say, and she doth ever tell me. Blirt[2651] o’ rhyme, blirt o’ rhyme! Maquerelle is a cunning bawd; I am an honest villain; thy wife is a close drab;[2652] and thou art a notorious cuckold. Farewell, duke. 111
Pietro. Stay, stay.
Mal. Dull, dull duke, can lazy patience make lame revenge? O God, for a woman to make a man that which God never created, never made? 116
Pietro. What did God never make?
Mal. A cuckold: to be made a thing that ’s hoodwinkt with kindness, whilst every rascal fillips his brows; to have a coxcomb with 120 egregious horns pinn’d to a lord’s back, every page sporting himself with delightful laughter, whilst he must be the last must know it. Pistols and poniards! pistols and poniards!
Pietro. Death and damnation! 125
Mal. Lightning and thunder!
Pietro. Vengeance and torture!
Mal. Catso![2653]
Pietro. O, revenge!
Mal. [[2654]Nay, to select among ten thousand fairs 130 A lady far inferior to the most, In fair proportion both of limb and soul; To take her from austerer check of parents, To make her his by most devoutful rites, Make her commandress of a better essence 135 Than is the gorgeous world, even of a man; To hug her with as rais’d an appetite As usurers do their delv’d-up treasury (Thinking none tells[2655] it but his private self); To meet her spirit in a nimble kiss, 140 Distilling panting ardour to her heart; True to her sheets, nay, diets strong his blood, To give her height of hymeneal sweets,—
Pietro. O God!
Mal. Whilst she lisps, and gives him some court-quelquechose, 145 Made only to provoke, not satiate: And yet, even then, the thaw of her delight Flows from lewd heat of apprehension, Only from strange imagination’s rankness, That forms the adulterer’s presence in her soul, 150 And makes her think she clips the foul knave’s loins.
Pietro. Affliction to my blood’s root!
Mal. Nay, think, but think what may proceed of this; adultery is often the mother of incest. 155
Pietro. Incest!
Mal. Yes, incest: mark:—Mendoza of his wife begets perchance a daughter: Mendoza dies, his son marries this daughter: say you? nay, ’t is frequent, not only probable, but no (160) question often acted, whilst ignorance, fearless ignorance, clasps his own seed.
Pietro. Hideous imagination!
Mal. Adultery! Why, next to the sin of simony, ’t is the most horrid transgression under the cope of salvation.[2656] 166
Pietro. Next to simony!
Mal. Ay, next to simony, in which our men in next age shall not sin.
Pietro. Not sin! why? 170
Mal. Because (thanks to some churchmen) our age will leave them nothing to sin with. But adultery, O dulness! should show[2657] exemplary punishment, that intemperate bloods may freeze but to think it.] I would damn him (175) and all his generation: my own hands should do it; ha, I would not trust heaven with my vengeance anything.
Pietro. Anything, anything, Malevole: thou shalt see instantly what temper my spirit (180) holds. Farewell; remember I forget thee not; farewell. Exit PIETRO.
[[2658]Mal. Farewell. Lean thoughtfulness, a sallow meditation, Suck thy veins dry! Distemperance rob thy sleep! 185 The heart’s disquiet is revenge most deep: He that gets blood, the life of flesh but spills, But he that breaks heart’s peace, the dear soul kills. Well, this disguise doth yet afford me that Which kings do seldom hear, or great men use,— 190 Free speech: and though my state ’s usurpt, Yet this affected strain gives me a tongue As fetterless as is an emperor’s. I may speak foolishly, ay, knavishly, 194 Always carelessly, yet no one thinks it fashion To poise[2659] my breath; for he that laughs and strikes Is lightly felt, or seldom struck again. Duke, I’ll torment thee now: my just revenge From thee than crown a richer gem shall part: Beneath God, naught’s so dear as a calm heart.] 200
Act I, Scene IV — [2660]
Enter CELSO.
Celso. My honour’d lord,—
Mal. Peace, speak low, peace! O Celso, constant lord, (Thou to whose faith I only rest discovered, Thou, one of full ten millions of men, That lovest virtue only for itself; 5 Thou in whose hands old Ops[2661] may put her soul) Behold forever-banisht Altofront, This Genoa’s last year’s duke. O truly noble! I wanted those old instruments of state, Dissemblance and suspect: I could not time it, Celso; 10 My throne stood like a point in midst of a circle, To all of equal nearness; bore with none; Rein’d all alike; so slept in fearless virtue, Suspectless, too suspectless; till the crowd, (Still likerous of[2662] untried novelties) 15 Impatient with severer government, Made strong with Florence, banisht Altofront.
Celso. Strong with Florence! ay, thence your mischief rose; For when the daughter of the Florentine Was match’d once with this Pietro, now duke, No stratagem of state untri’d was left, 21 Till you of all—
Mal. Of all was quite bereft: Alas, Maria too, close prisoned, My true faith’d duchess, i’ the citadel! 24
Celso. I’ll still adhere: let’s mutiny and die.
Mal. O, no, climb not a falling tower, Celso; ’T is well held desperation, no zeal, Hopeless to strive with fate. Peace! Temporize! Hope, hope, that never forsak’st the wretched’st man, 29 Yet bidd’st me live, and lurk in this disguise! What, play I well the free-breath’d discontent? Why,[2663] man, we are all philosophical monarchs Or natural fools. Celso, the court’s a-fire; The duchess’ sheets will smoke for’t ere ’t be long: Impure Mendoza, that sharp-nos’d lord, that made 35 The cursed match that linkt Genoa with Florence, Now broad-horns the duke, which he now knows. Discord to malcontents is very manna: When the ranks are burst, then scuffle, Altofront.
Celso. Ay, but durst,— 40
Mal. ’T is gone; ’t is swallowed like a mineral: Some say ’t will work; pheut, I’ll not shrink: He’s resolute who can no lower sink: [[2664] BILIOSO entering, MALEVOLE shifteth his speech. O the father of May-poles! did you never see a fellow whose strength consisted in his breath, (45) respect in his office, religion in his lord, and love in himself, why, then, behold!
Bil. Signior,—
Mal. My right worshipful lord, your court night-cap makes you have a passing high forehead. 51
Bil. I can tell you strange news, but I am sure you know them already: the duke speaks much good of you.
Mal. Go to, then: and shall you and I now enter into a strict friendship? 56
Bil. Second one another?
Mal. Yes.
Bil. Do one another good offices? 59
Mal. Just: what though I call’d thee old ox, egregious wittol, broken-bellied coward, rotten mummy? yet, since I am in favour—
Bil. Words of course, terms of disport. His grace presents you by me a chain, as his grateful remembrance for—I am ignorant for 65 what; marry, ye may impart: yet howsoever—come—dear friend; dost know my son?
Mal. Your son!
Bil. He shall eat wood-cocks, dance jigs, make possets, and play at shuttle-cock with (70) any young lord about the court: he has as sweet a lady, too; dost know her little bitch?
Mal. ’T is a dog, man.
Bil. Believe me, a she-bitch. O, ’t is a good creature! thou shalt be her servant. I’ll (75) make thee acquainted with my young wife too: what! I keep her not at court for nothing. ’T is grown to supper-time; come to my table: that, anything I have, stands open to thee.
Mal. (Aside to CELSO.) How smooth to him that is in state of grace, 80 How servile is the rugged’st courtier’s face! What profit, nay, what nature would keep down, Are heav’d to them are minions to a crown. Envious ambition never sates his thirst, Till, sucking all, he swells and swells, and bursts. 85
Bil. I shall now leave you with my always-best wishes; only let’s hold betwixt us a firm correspondence, a mutual friendly-reciprocal kind of a steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued— 90
Mal. Did your signorship ne’er see a pigeon-house that was smooth, round, and white without, and full of holes and stink within? Ha’ ye not, old courtier? 94
Bil. O, yes, ’t is the form, the fashion of them all.
Mal. Adieu, my true court-friend; farewell, my dear Castilio.[2665] Exit BILIOSO.]
Celso. Yonder’s Mendoza. Descries MENDOZA.
Mal. True, the privy-key. 99
Celso. I take my leave, sweet lord.
Mal. ’T is fit; away! Exit CELSO.
Act I, Scene V — [2666]
Enter MENDOZA with three or four Suitors.
Men. Leave your suits with me; I can and will. Attend my secretary; leave me. [Exeunt Suitors.]
Mal. Mendoza, hark ye, hark ye. You are a treacherous villain: God b’ wi’ ye!
Men. Out, you base-born rascal! 5
Mal. We are all the sons of heaven, though a tripe-wife were our mother: ah, you whoreson, hot-rein’d he-marmoset! Aegisthus! didst ever hear of one Aegisthus?
Men. Gisthus? 10
Mal. Ay, Aegisthus: he was a filthy incontinent flesh-monger, such a one as thou art.
Men. Out, grumbling rogue!
Mal. Orestes, beware Orestes!
Men. Out, beggar! 15
Mal. I once shall rise!
Men. Thou rise!
Mal. At the resurrection. No vulgar seed but once may rise and shall; No king so huge but ’fore he die may fall. 20 Exit.
Men. Now, good Elysium! what a delicious heaven is it for a man to be in a prince’s favour! O sweet God! O pleasure! O fortune! O all thou best of life! What should I think, what say, what do to be a favourite, a minion? (25) to have a general timorous respect observe[2667] a man, a stateful silence in his presence, solitariness in his absence, a confused hum and busy murmur of obsequious suitors training[2668] him; the cloth held up, and way proclaim’d before (30) him; petitionary vassels licking the pavement with their slavish knees, whilst some odd palace-lampreels[2669] that engender with snakes, and are full of eyes on both sides, with a kind of insinuating humbleness, fix all (35) their delights upon his brow. O blessed state! what a ravishing prospect doth the Olympus of favour yield! Death, I cornute the duke! Sweet women! most sweet ladies! nay, angels! by heaven, he is more accursed than a devil (40) that hates you, or is hated by you; and happier than a god that loves you, or is beloved by you. You preservers of mankind, life-blood of society, who would live, nay, who can live without you? O paradise! how majestical is your (45) austerer presence! how imperiously chaste is your more modest face! but, O, how full of ravishing attraction is your pretty, petulant, languishing, lasciviously-composed countenance! these amorous smiles, those soul-warming (50) sparkling glances, ardent as those flames that singed the world by heedless Phaeton! in body how delicate, in soul how witty, in discourse how pregnant, in life, how wary, in favours how judicious, in day how sociable, and (55) in night how—O pleasure unutterable! indeed, it is most certain, one man cannot deserve only to enjoy a beauteous woman: but a duchess! In despite of Phoebus, I’ll write a sonnet instantly in praise of her. Exit. 60
Act I, Scene VI — [2670]
Enter FERNEZE ushering AURELIA, EMILIA and MAQUERELLE bearing up her train, BIANCA attending; then exeunt EMILIA and BIANCA.
Aurel. And is ’t possible? Mendoza slight me! Possible?
Fer. Possible! What can be strange in him that’s drunk with favour, Grows insolent with grace?—Speak, Maquerelle, speak. 5
Maq. To speak feelingly, more, more richly in solid sense than worthless words, give me those jewels of your ears to receive my enforced duty. As for my part, ’t is well known I can put up anything (FERNEZE privately feeds MAQUERELLE’S (10) hands with jewels during this speech); can bear patiently with any man: but when I heard he wronged your precious sweetness, I was enforced to take deep offence. ’T is most certain he loves Emilia with high appetite: 15 and, as she told me (as you know we women impart our secrets one to another), when she repulsed his suit, in that he was possessed with your endeared grace, Mendoza most ingratefully renounced all faith to you. 20
Fer. Nay, call’d you—Speak, Maquerelle, speak.
Maq. By heaven, witch, dri’d biscuit; and contested blushlessly he lov’d you but for a spurt or so.
Fer. For maintenance. 25
Maq. Advancement and regard.
Aurel. O villain! O impudent Mendoza!
Maq. Nay, he is the rustiest-jaw’d, the foulest mouth’d knave in railing against our sex: he will rail again’ women— 30
Aurel. How? how?
Maq. I am asham’d to speak ’t, I.
Aurel. I love to hate him: speak.
Maq. Why, when Emilia scorn’d his base unsteadiness, the black-throated rascal scolded, and said— 35
Aurel. What?
Maq. Troth, ’t is too shameless.
Aurel. What said he?
Maq. Why, that, at four, women were (40) fools; at fourteen, drabs; at forty, bawds; at fourscore, witches; and [at] a hundred, cats.
Aurel. O unlimitable impudency!
Fer. But as for poor Ferneze’s fixed heart, Was never shadeless meadow drier parcht 45 Under the scorching heat of heaven’s dog, Than is my heart with your enforcing eyes.
Maq. A hot simile.
Fer. Your smiles have been my heaven, your frowns my hell: O, pity, then! grace should with beauty dwell. 50
Maq. Reasonable perfect, by ’r lady.
Aurel. I will love thee, be it but in despite Of that Mendoza:—witch! Ferneze,—witch!— Ferneze, thou art the duchess’ favourite: Be faithful, private: but ’t is dangerous. 55
Fer. His love is lifeless that for love fears breath: The worst that’s due to sin, O, would ’t were death!
Aurel. Enjoy my favour. I will be sick instantly and take physic: therefore in depth of night visit— 60
Maq. Visit her chamber, but conditionally you shall not offend her bed: by this diamond!
Fer. By this diamond. Gives it to MAQ.
Maq. Nor tarry longer than you please: by this ruby! 65
Fer. By this ruby. Gives again.
Maq. And that the door shall not creak.
Fer. And that the door shall not creak.
Maq. Nay, but swear.
Fer. By this purse. Giving her his purse.
Maq. Go to, I’ll keep your oaths for you: (71) remember, visit.
Enter MENDOZA, reading a sonnet.
Aurel. Dried biscuit!—Look where the base wretch comes. 74
Men. “Beauty’s life, heaven’s model, love’s queen,”—
Maq. That ’s his Emilia.
Men. “Nature’s triumph, best of earth,”—
Maq. Meaning Emilia. 79
Men. “Thou only wonder that the world hath seen.”—
Maq. That ’s Emilia.
Aurel. Must I, then, hear her prais’d?—Mendoza!
Men. Madam, your excellency is graciously (85) encount’red: I have been writing passionate flashes in honour of— Exit FERNEZE.
Aurel. Out, villain, villain! O judgment, where have been my eyes? what Bewitch’d election made me dote on thee? 90 What sorcery made me love thee? But, be gone; Bury thy head. O, that I could do more Than loath thee! hence, worst of ill! No reason else,[2671] our reason is our will. Exit with MAQUERELLE.
Men. Women! nay, Furies; nay, worse; (95) for they torment only the bad, but women good and bad. Damnation of mankind! Breath, hast thou prais’d them for this? and is ’t you, Ferneze, are wriggled into smock-grace? Sit sure. O, that I could rail against these monsters (100) in nature, models of hell, curse of the earth, women! that dare attempt anything, and what they attempt they care not how they accomplish; without all premeditation or prevention; rash in asking, desperate in working, impatient (105) in suffering, extreme in desiring, slaves unto appetite, mistresses in dissembling, only constant in unconstancy, only perfect in counterfeiting; their words are feigned, their eyes forg’d, their sighs dissembled, their looks (110) counterfeit, their hair false, their given hopes deceitful, their very breath artificial; their blood is their only god; bad clothes and old age are only the devils they tremble at. That I could rail now! 115
Act I, Scene VII — [2672]
Enter PIETRO, his sword drawn.
Pietro. A mischief fill thy throat, thou foul-jaw’d slave! Say thy prayers.
Men. I ha’ forgot ’em.
Pietro. Thou shalt die.
Men. So shalt thou. I am heart-mad.
Pietro. I am horn-mad.
Men. Extreme mad.
Pietro. Monstrously mad.
Men. Why?
Pietro. Why! thou, thou hast dishonoured my bed. 5
Men. I! Come, come, sit; here ’s my bare heart to thee, As steady as is the[2673] centre to this[2674] glorious world: And yet, hark, thou art a cornuto,—but by me?
Pietro. Yes, slave, by thee.
Men. Do not, do not with tart and spleenful breath 10 Lose him can lose thee. I offend my duke! Bear record, O ye dumb and raw-air’d nights, How vigilant my sleepless eyes have been To watch the traitor! Record, thou spirit of truth, With what debasement I ha’ thrown myself 15 To under offices, only to learn The truth, the party, time, the means, the place, By whom, and when, and where thou wert disgrac’d! And am I paid with “slave”? Hath my intrusion To places private and prohibited, 20 Only to observe the closer passages, Heaven knows with vows of revelation, Made me suspected, made me deem’d a villain? What rogue hath wrong’d us?
Pietro. Mendoza, I may err.
Men. Err! ’t is too mild a name: but err and err, 25 Run giddy with suspect, ’fore through me thou know That which most creatures, save thyself, do know: Nay, since my service hath so loath’d reject, ’Fore I ’ll reveal, shalt find them clipt[2675] together. 29
Pietro. Mendoza, thou know’st I am a most plain-breasted man.
Men. The fitter to make a cuckold: would your brows were most plain too!
Pietro. Tell me: indeed, I heard thee rail—
Men. At women, true: why, what cold phlegm could choose, 35 Knowing a lord so honest, virtuous, So boundless loving, bounteous, fair-shap’d, sweet, To be contemn’d, abus’d, defam’d, made cuckold? Heart! I hate all women for ’t: sweet sheets, (39) wax lights, antique bedposts, cambric smocks, villanous curtains, arras pictures, oil’d hinges, and all ye tongue-tied lascivious witnesses of great creatures’ wantonness,—what salvation can you expect?
Pietro. Wilt thou tell me? 45
Men. Why, you may find it yourself; observe, observe.
Pietro. I ha’ not the patience. Wilt thou deserve me, tell, give it.
Men. Take ’t. why, Ferneze is the man, (50) Ferneze: I’ll prove ’t; this night you shall take him in your sheets. Will ’t serve?
Pietro. It will; my bosom ’s in some peace: till night—
Men. What?
Pietro. Farewell.
Men. God! how weak a lord are you! Why, do you think there is no more but so? 55
Pietro. Why!
Men. Nay, then, will I presume to counsel you: It should be thus. You with some guard upon the sudden Break into the princess’ chamber: I stay behind, Without the door, through which he needs must pass: 60 Ferneze flies; let him: to me he comes; he’s kill’d By me, observe, by me: you follow: I rail, And seem to save the body. Duchess comes, On whom (respecting her advanced birth, 64 And your fair nature), I know, nay, I do know, No violence must be us’d; she comes: I storm, I praise, excuse Ferneze, and still maintain The duchess’ honour; she for this loves me. I honour you; shall know her soul, you mine: Then naught shall she contrive in vengeance 70 (As women are most thoughtful in revenge) Of her Ferneze, but you shall sooner know ’t Than she can think ’t. Thus shall his death come sure, Your duchess brain-caught: so your life secure.
Pietro. It is too well: my bosom and my heart 75 When nothing helps, cut off the rotten part. Exit.
Men. Who cannot feign friendship can ne’er produce the effects of hatred. Honest fool duke! subtle lascivious duchess! silly novice Ferneze! I do laugh at ye. My brain is in labour till it (80) produce mischief, and I feel sudden throes, proofs sensible, the issue is at hand. As bears shape young, so I’ll form my device, Which grown proves horrid: vengeance makes men wise. [Exit.]
[SCENE VIII.][2676]
[Enter MALEVOLE and PASSARELLO.
Mal. Fool, most happily encount’red: canst sing, fool?
Pass. Yes, I can sing, fool, if you’ll hear the burden; and I can play upon instruments, scurvily, as gentlemen do. O, that I had been (5) gelded! I should then have been a fat fool for a chamber, a squeaking fool for a tavern, and a private fool for all the ladies.
Mal. You are in good case since you came to court, fool: what, guarded,[2677] guarded! 10
Pass. Yes, faith, even as footmen and bawds wear velvet, not for an ornament of honour, but for a badge of drudgery; for, now the duke is discontented, I am fain to fool him asleep every night. 15
Mal. What are his griefs?
Pass. He hath sore eyes.
Mal. I never observed so much.
Pass. Horrible sore eyes; and so hath every cuckold, for the roots of the horns spring in (20) the eyeballs, and that ’s the reason the horn of a cuckold is as tender as his eye, or as that growing in the woman’s forehead, twelve years since, that could not endure to be toucht.[2678] The duke hangs down his head like a columbine. 25
Mal. Passarello, why do great men beg fools?[2679]
Pass. As the Welshman stole rushes when there was nothing else to filch; only to keep begging in fashion. 30
Mal. Pooh, thou givest no good reason; thou speakest like a fool.
Pass. Faith, I utter small fragments, as your knight courts your city widow with jingling of his gilt spurs,[2680] advancing his bush-coloured (35) beard, and taking tobacco: this is all the mirror of their knightly complements.[2681] Nay, I shall talk when my tongue is a-going once; ’t is like a citizen on horseback, evermore in a false gallop. 40
Mal. And how doth Maquerelle fare nowadays?
Pass. Faith, I was wont to salute her as our English women are at their first landing in Flushing;[2682] I would call her whore: but now (45) that antiquity leaves her as an old piece of plastic to work by, I only ask her how her rotten teeth fare every morning, and so leave her. She was the first that ever invented perfum’d smocks for the gentlewomen, and (50) woollen shoes, for fear of creaking for the visitant. She were an excellent lady, but that her face peeleth like Muscovy glass.[2683]
Mal. And how doth thy old lord, that hath wit enough to be a flatterer, and conscience enough to be a knave? 55
Pass. O, excellent: he keeps beside me fifteen jesters, to instruct him in the art of fooling, and utters their jests in private to the duke and duchess. He’ll lie like to your Switzer or (60) lawyer; he’ll be of any side for most money.
Mal. I am in haste, be brief.
Pass. As your fiddler when he is paid.—He ’ll thrive, I warrant you, while your young (64) courtier stands like Good Friday in Lent; men long to see it, because more fatting days come after it; else he’s the leanest and pitifullest actor in the whole pageant. Adieu, Malevole.
Mal. O world most vile, when thy loose vanities, 69 Taught by this fool, do make the fool seem wise!
Pass. You’ll know me again, Malevole.
Mal. O, ay, by that velvet.
Pass. Ay, as a pettifogger by his buckram bag. I am as common in the court as an hostess’s (74) lips in the country; knights, and clowns, and knaves, and all share me; the court cannot possibly be without me. Adieu, Malevole. [Exeunt.]
Act II, Scene I — [2684]
Enter MENDOZA, with a sconce,[2685] to observe FERNEZE’S entrance, who, whilst the act is playing, enters unbraced, two Pages before him with lights; is met by MAQUERELLE and convey’d in; the Pages are sent away.
Men. He’s caught, the woodcock’s head is i’ th’ noose. Now treads Ferneze in dangerous path of lust, Swearing his sense is merely[2686] deified: The fool grasps clouds, and shall beget Centaurs: And now, in strength of panting faint delight, 5 The goat bids heaven envy him.—Good goose, I can afford thee nothing But the poor comfort of calamity, pity. Lust ’s like the plummets hanging on clock-lines, Will ne’er ha’ done till all is quite undone; 10 Such is the course salt sallow lust doth run; Which thou shalt try. I’ll be reveng’d. Duke, thy suspect; Duchess, thy disgrace; Ferneze, thy rivalship; Shall have swift vengeance. Nothing so holy, No band of nature so strong, 15 No law of friendship so sacred, But I’ll profane, burst, violate, ’fore I’ll Endure disgrace, contempt, and poverty. Shall I, whose very “Hum” struck all heads bare, Whose face made silence, creaking of whose shoe 20 Forc’d the most private passages fly ope, Scrape like a servile dog at some latch’d door? Learn how to make a leg, and cry “Beseech ye, Pray ye, is such a lord within?” be aw’d At some odd usher’s scoff’d formality? 25 First sear my brains! Unde cadis non quo, refert;[2687] My heart cries, “Perish all!” How! how! what fate Can once avoid revenge, that’s desperate? 28 I ’ll to the duke; if all should ope—If! tush. Fortune still dotes on those who cannot blush. [Exit.]
Act II, Scene II — [2688]
Enter MALEVOLE at one door; BIANCA, EMILIA, and MAQUERELLE at the other door.
Mal. Bless ye, cast[2689] o’ ladies!—Ha, Dipsas! how dost thou, old coal?
Maq. Old coal!
Mal. Ay, old coal; methinks thou liest like a brand under these billets of green wood. He (5) that will inflame a young wench’s heart, let him lay close to her an old coal that hath first been fir’d, a panderess, my half-burnt lint, who though thou canst not flame thyself, yet art able to set a thousand virgin’s tapers afire.—And (10) how does Janivere thy husband, my little periwinkle? Is he troubled with the cough o’ the lungs still? Does he hawk o’ nights still? He will not bite.
Bian. No, by my troth. I took him with (15) his mouth empty of old teeth.
Mal. And he took thee with thy belly full of young bones: marry, he took his maim by the stroke of his enemy. 19
Bian. And I mine by the stroke of my friend.
Mal. The close stock![2690] O mortal wench! Lady, ha’ ye now no restoratives for your decayed Jasons? Look ye, crab’s guts bak’d, distill’d ox-pith, the pulverized hairs of a lion’s upper-lip, jelly of cock-sparrows, he-monkey’s (25) marrow, or powder of fox-stones?—And whither are all you ambling now?
Bian. Why, to bed, to bed.
Mal. Do your husbands lie with ye?
Bian. That were country fashion, i’ faith. 30
Mal. Ha’ ye no foregoers about you? Come, whither in good deed, la’ now?
Maq. In good indeed, la now, to eat the most miraculously, admirably, astonishable compos’d posset with three curds, without any drink. (35) Will ye help me with a he-fox?—Here’s the duke. Exeunt Ladies.
[Mal. Fri’d frogs are very good, and French-like too.][2691]
Act II, Scene III — [2692]
Enter DUKE PIETRO, COUNT CELSO, COUNT EQUATO, BILIOSO, FERRARDO, and MENDOZA.
Pietro. The night grows deep and foul: what hour is ’t?
Celso. Upon the stroke of twelve.
Mal. Save ye, Duke!
Pietro. From thee: begone, I do not love (5) thee! Let me see thee no more; we are displeas’d.
Mal. Why, God b’ wi’ thee! Heaven hear my curse,—may thy wife and thee live long together! 10
Pietro. Begone, sirrah!
Mal. “When Arthur first in court began,”—Agamemnon—Menelaus—was ever any duke a cornuto?
Pietro. Begone, hence! 15
Mal. What religion wilt thou be of next?
Men. Out with him!
Mal. With most servile patience.—Time will come When wonder of thy error will strike dumb Thy bezzled[2693] senses.— 20 Slaves! ay, favour: ay, marry, shall he rise: Good God! how subtle hell doth flatter vice! Mounts him aloft, and makes him seem to fly, As fowl the tortoise mock’d, who to the sky The ambitious shell-fish rais’d! The end of all Is only, that from height he might dead fall. 26
[[2694]Bil. Why, when? Out, ye rogue! begone, ye rascal!
Mal. I shall now leave ye with all my best wishes. 30
Bil. Out, ye cur!
Mal. Only let’s hold together a firm correspondence.
Bil. Out!
Mal. A mutual-friendly-reciprocal-perpetual kind of steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued— 36
Bil. Hence, ye gross-jaw’d, peasantly—out, go!
Mal. Adieu, pigeon-house; thou burr, that only stickest to nappy fortunes. The serpigo,[2695] (40) the strangury, an eternal uneffectual priapism seize thee!
Bil. Out, rogue!
Mal. May’st thou be a notorious wittolly pander to thine own wife, and yet get no office, (46) but live to be the utmost misery of mankind, a beggarly cuckold!] Exit.
Pietro. It shall be so.
Men. It must be so, for where great states revenge, ’T is requisite the parts be closely dogg’d, 50 (Which piety and soft respect forbears).[2696] Lay one into his breast shall sleep with him, Feed in the same dish, run in self-faction, Who may discover any shape of danger; For once disgrac’d, displayed in offence, 55 It makes man blushless, and man is (all confess) More prone to vengeance than to gratefulness. Favours are writ in dust; but stripes we feel. Depraved nature stamps in lasting steel.
Pietro. You shall be leagu’d with the duchess.
Equato. The plot is very good. 61
Men. You shall both kill, and seem the corse to save.
Fer. A most fine brain-trick.
Celso. (Aside.) Of a most cunning knave. 64
Pietro. My lords, the heavy action we intend Is death and shame, two of the ugliest shapes That can confound a soul; think, think of it. I strike, but yet, like him that ’gainst stone walls Directs, his shafts rebound in his own face; My lady’s shame is mine, O God, ’t is mine! 70 Therefore I do conjure all secrecy: Let it be as very little as may be, Pray ye, as may be, Make frightless entrance, salute her with soft eyes, Stain nought with blood; only Ferneze dies, 75 But not before her brows. O gentlemen, God knows I love her! Nothing else, but this:—I am not well: if grief, that sucks veins dry, Rivels[2697] the skin, casts ashes in men’s faces, Be-dulls the eye, unstrengthens all the blood, 80 Chance to remove me to another world, As sure I once must die, let him succeed: I have no child; all that my youth begot Hath been your loves, which shall inherit me: Which as it ever shall, I do conjure it, 85 Mendoza may succeed: he’s nobly born; With me of much desert.
Celso. (Aside.) Much!
Pietro. Your silence answers, “Ay.” I thank you. Come on now. O, that I might die 90 Before her shame ’s display’d! Would I were forc’d To burn my father’s tomb, unheal[2698] his bones, And dash them in the dirt, rather than this! This both the living and the dead offends: 94 Sharp surgery where naught but death amends. Exeunt.
Act II, Scene IV — [2699]
Enter MAQUERELLE, EMILIA, and BIANCA with a posset.
Maq. Even here it is, three curds in three regions individually distinct, most methodically according to art compos’d, without any drink.
Bian. Without any drink! 4
Maq. Upon my honour. Will ye sit and eat?
Emil. Good; the composure, the receipt, how is ’t?
Maq. ’T is a pretty pearl; by this pearl (how does’t with me?[2700]) thus it is: Seven and thirty yolks of Barbary hens’ eggs; eighteen spoonfuls (10) and a half of the juice of cock-sparrow bones; one ounce, three drams, four scruples, and one quarter of the syrup of Ethiopian dates; sweetened with three quarters of a pound of pure candied Indian eringoes; strewed (15) over with the powder of pearl of America, amber of Cataia, and lamb-stones of Muscovia.
Bian. Trust me, the ingredients are very cordial, and, no question, good, and most powerful in restoration. 20
Maq. I know not what you mean by restoration; but this it doth,—it purifieth the blood, smootheth the skin, enliveneth the eye, strengtheneth the veins, mundifieth[2701] the teeth, comforteth the stomach, fortifieth the back, (25) and quickeneth the wit; that’s all.
Emil. By my troth, I have eaten but two spoonfuls, and methinks I could discourse most swiftly and wittily already.
Maq. Have you the art to seem honest? 30
Bian. Ay, thank advice and practice.
Maq. Why, then, eat me o’ this posset, quicken your blood, and preserve your beauty. Do you know Doctor Plaster-face? by this curd, he is the most exquisite in forging of veins, (35) sprightening of eyes, dying of hair, sleeking of skins, blushing of cheeks, surphling[2702] of breasts, blanching and bleaching of teeth, that ever made an old lady gracious by torchlight; by this curd, la. 40
Bian. Well, we are resolved, what God has given us we’ll cherish.
Maq. Cherish anything saving your husband; keep him not too high, lest he leap the pale: but, for your beauty, let it be your saint; 45 bequeath two hours to it every morning in your closet. I ha’ been young, and yet, in my conscience, I am not above five and twenty: but, believe me, preserve and use your beauty; for youth and beauty once gone, we are like beehives (50) without honey, out-o’-fashion apparel that no man will wear: therefore use me your beauty.
Emil. Ay, but men say—
Maq. Men say! let men say what they (55) will: life o’ woman! they are ignorant of our wants. The more in years, the more in perfection they grow; if they lose youth and beauty, they gain wisdom and discretion: but when our beauty fades, good-night with us. There 60 cannot be an uglier thing than to see an old woman: from which, O pruning, pinching, and painting, deliver all sweet beauties! [Music within.]
Bian. Hark! music! 64
Maq. Peace, ’tis i’ the duchess’ bed-chamber. Good rest, most prosperously-graced ladies.
Emil. Good night, sentinel.
Bian. Night, dear Maquerelle. Exeunt all but MAQ.
Maq. May my posset’s operation send you my wit and honesty; and me, your youth and (70) beauty; the pleasing’st rest! Exit.
Act II, Scene V — [2703]
A Song [within].
Whilst the song is singing, enter MENDOZA with his sword drawn, standing ready to murder FERNEZE as he flies from the duchess’ chamber.—Tumult within.
All [within.] Strike, strike!
Aur. [within.] Save my Ferneze! O, save my Ferneze!
Enter FERNEZE in his shirt, and is receiv’d upon MENDOZA’S sword.
All [within.] Follow, pursue!
Aur. [within.] O, save Ferneze!
Men. Pierce, pierce!—Thou shallow fool, drop there! He that attempts a princess’ lawless love 5 Must have broad hands, close heart, with Argus’ eyes, And back of Hercules, or else he dies. Thrusts his rapier in FER.
Enter AURELIA, PIETRO, FERRARDO, BILIOSO, CELSO, and EQUATO.
All. Follow, follow!
Men. Stand off, forbear, ye most uncivil lords!
Pietro. Strike!
Men. Do not; tempt not a man resolv’d: 10
MENDOZA bestrides the wounded body of FERNEZE, and seems to save him.
Would you, inhuman murderers, more than death?
Aur. O poor Ferneze!
Men. Alas, now all defence too late!
Aur. He’s dead.
Pietro. I am sorry for our shame.—Go to your bed: 15 Weep not too much, but leave some tears to shed When I am dead.
Aur. What, weep for thee! my soul no tears shall find.
Pietro. Alas, alas, that women’s souls are blind!
Men. Betray such beauty! 20 Murder such youth! Contemn civility! He loves him not that rails not at him.
Pietro. Thou canst not move us: we have blood enough.— And please you, lady, we have quite forgot All your defects: if not, why, then— 25
Aur. Not.
Pietro. Not: the best of rest: good-night. Exit PIETRO, with other Courtiers.
Aur. Despite go with thee!
Men. Madam, you ha’ done me foul disgrace; you have wrong’d him much loves you too much: go to, your soul knows you have. 31
Aur. I think I have.
Men. Do you but think so?
Aur. Nay, sure, I have: my eyes have witnessed thy love: thou hast stood too firm for me. 36
Men. Why, tell me, fair-cheekt lady, who even in tears art powerfully beauteous, what unadvised passion struck ye into such a violent heat against me? Speak, what mischief (40) wrong’d us? What devil injur’d us? Speak.
Aur. The thing ne’er worthy of the name of man, Ferneze; Ferneze swore thou lov’st Emilia; Which to advance, with most reproachful breath 45 Thou both didst blemish and denounce my love.
Men. Ignoble villain! did I for this bestride Thy wounded limbs? for this, rank opposite Even to my sovereign? for this, O God, for this, 49 Sunk all my hopes, and with my hopes my life? Ripp’d bare my throat unto the hangman’s axe?—— Thou most dishonour’d trunk!—Emilia! By life, I know her not—Emilia—! Did you believe him?
Aur. Pardon me, I did.
Men. Did you? And thereupon you graced him? 55
Aur. I did.
Men. Took him to favour, nay even clasp’d With him?
Aur. Alas, I did!
Men. This night?
Aur. This night.
Men. And in your lustful twines the duke took you?
Aur. A most sad truth.
Men. O God, O God! how we dull honest souls, 60 Heavy brain’d men, are swallowed in the bogs Of a deceitful ground, whilst nimble bloods, Light-jointed spirits, speed;[2704] cut good men’s throats, And scape! Alas, I am too honest for this age, Too full of phlegm and heavy steadiness; 65 Stood still whilst this slave cast a noose about me; Nay, then to stand in honour of him and her, Who had even slic’d my heart!
Aur. Come, I did err, And am most sorry I did err.
Men. Why, we are both but dead: the duke hates us; 70 And those whom princes do once groundly[2705] hate, Let them provide to die, as sure as fate. Prevention is the heart of policy.
Aur. Shall we murder him?
Men. Instantly? 75
Aur. Instantly; before he casts a plot, Or further blaze my honour’s much-known blot. Let’s murder him.
Men. I would do much for you: will ye marry me?
Aur. I’ll make thee duke. We are of Medicis; 80 Florence our friend; in court my faction Not meanly strengthful; the duke then dead; We well prepar’d for change; the multitude Irresolutely reeling; we in force; Our party seconded; the kingdom maz’d; 85 No doubt of[2706] swift success all shall be grac’d.
Men. You do confirm me, we are resolute: To-morrow look for change: rest confident. ’T is now about the immodest waist of night: The mother of moist dew with pallid light 90 Spreads gloomy shades about the numbed earth. Sleep, sleep, whilst we contrive our mischief’s birth. This man I’ll get inhum’d. Farewell: to bed; Ay, kiss thy pillow, dream the duke is dead. So, so, good night. Exit AURELIA. How fortune dotes on impudence! 95 I am in private the adopted son Of yon good prince: I must be duke: why, if I must, I must. Most silly lord, name me! O heaven! I see God made honest fools to maintain crafty knaves. 100 The duchess is wholly mine too; must kill her husband To quit her shame. Much! then marry her! Ay. O, I grow proud in prosperous treachery! As wrestlers clip, so I’ll embrace you all, Not to support, but to procure your fall. 105
Enter MALEVOLE.
Mal. God arrest thee!
Men. At whose suit?
Mal. At the devil’s. Ah, you treacherous, damnable monster, how dost? how dost, thou treacherous rogue? Ah, ye rascal! I am banished (110) the court, sirrah.
Men. Prithee, let’s be acquainted; I do love thee, faith.
Mal. At your service, by the Lord, la: shall’s go to supper? Let’s be once drunk together, (115) and so unite a most virtuously-strength’ned friendship: shall ’s Huguenot? shall ’s?
Men. Wilt fall upon my chamber to-morrow morn?
Mal. As a raven to a dunghill. They say (120) there’s one dead here: prickt for the pride of the flesh.
Men. Ferneze; there he is; prithee, bury him.
Mal. O, most willingly: I mean to turn pure Roehelle churchman, I.[2707] 125
Men. Thou churchman! Why, why?
Mal. Because I’ll live lazily, rail upon authority, deny kings’ supremacy in things indifferent, and be a pope in mine own parish.
Men. Wherefore dost thou think churches were made? 131
Mal. To scour plough-shares: I ha’ seen oxen plough up altars; et nunc seges ubi Sion fuit.[2708]
Men. Strange! 134
Mal. Nay, monstrous! I ha’ seen a sumptuous steeple turned to a stinking privy; more beastly, the sacredest place made a dogs’ kennel; nay, most inhuman, the stoned coffins of long-dead Christians burst up, and made hogs’ troughs: hic finis Priami[2709] Shall I ha’ some (140) sack and cheese at thy chamber? Good night, good mischievous incarnate devil; good night. Mendoza; ah, ye inhuman villain, good night! night, fuh.[2710] 144
Men. Goodnight: to-morrow morn? Exit.
Mal. Ay, I will come, friendly damnation, I will come. I do descry cross-points; honesty and courtship straddle as far asunder as a true Frenchman’s legs.
Fer. O! 150
Mal. Proclamations! more proclamations!
Fer. O! a surgeon!
Mal. Hark! lust cries for a surgeon. What news from Limbo? How does the grand cuckold, Lucifer? 155
Fer. O, help, help! conceal and save me. FERNEZE stirs, and MALEVOLE helps him up and conveys him away.
Mal. Thy shame more than thy wounds do grieve me far: Thy wounds but leave upon thy flesh some scar; But fame ne’er heals, still rankles worse and worse; Such is of uncontrolled lust the curse. 160 Think what it is in lawless sheets to lie; But, O, Ferneze, what in lust to die! Then thou that shame respect’st, O, fly converse With women’s eyes and lisping wantonness! 164 Stick candles ’gainst a virgin wall’s white back, If they not burn, yet at the least they’ll black. Come, I’ll convey thee to a private port, Where thou shalt live (O happy man!) from court. The beauty of the day begins to rise, From whose bright form night’s heavy shadow flies. 170 Now ’gin close plots to work; the scene grows full, And craves his eyes who hath a solid skull. Exeunt.
Act III, Scene I — [2711]
Enter PIETRO, MENDOZA, EQUATO, and BILIOSO.
Pietro. ’T is grown to youth of day: how shall we waste this light? My heart’s more heavy than a tyrant’s crown. Shall we go hunt? Prepare for field. Exit EQUATO.
Men. Would ye could be merry!
Pietro. Would God I could! Mendoza, bid ’em haste. Exit MENDOZA. 5 I would fain shift, place; O vain relief! Sad souls may well change place, but not change grief: As deer, being struck, fly thorough many soils,[2712] Yet still the shaft sticks fast, so——
Bil. A good old simile, my honest lord. 10
Pietro. I am not much unlike to some sick man That long desired hurtful drink; at last Swills in and drinks his last, ending at once Both life and thirst. O, would I ne’er had known My own dishonour! Good God, that men should desire 15 To search out that, which, being found, kills all Their joy of life! to taste the tree of knowledge, And then be driven from out paradise!—— Canst give me some comfort?
Bil. My lord, I have some books which (20) have been dedicated to my honour, and I ne’er read ’em, and yet they had very fine names, Physic for Fortune, Lozenges of Sanctified Sincerity; very pretty works of curates, scriveners, and schoolmasters. Marry, I remember one (25) Seneca, Lucius Annaeus Seneca——
Pietro. Out upon him! he writ of temperance and fortitude, yet lived like a voluptuous epicure, and died like an effeminate coward.—— Haste thee to Florence: 30 Here, take our letters; see ’em seal’d; away! Report in private to the honour’d duke His daughter’s forc’d disgrace; tell him at length We know too much: due compliments[2713] advance: There’s naught that’s safe and sweet but ignorance. Exit. 35
[Enter[2714] BIANCA.
Bil. Madam, I am going ambassador for Florence; ’t will be great charges to me.
Bian. No matter, my lord, you have the lease of two manors come out next Christmas; you may lay your tenants on the greater rack (40) for it: and when you come home again, I’ll teach you how you shall get two hundred pounds a-year by your teeth.
Bil. How, madam?
Bian. Cut off so much from house-keeping: (45) that which is saved by the teeth, you know, is got by the teeth.
Bil. ’Fore God, and so I may; I am in wondrous credit, lady.
Bian. See the use of flattery: I did ever (50) counsel you to flatter greatness, and you have profited well: any man that will do so shall be sure to be like your Scotch barnacle,[2715] now a block, instantly a worm, and presently a great goose: this it is to rot and putrefy in the bosom of greatness. 55
Bil. Thou art ever my politician. O, how happy is that old lord that hath a politician to his young lady! I’ll have fifty gentlemen shall attend upon me: marry, the most of them (60) shall be farmer’s sons, because they shall bear their own charges: and they shall go apparelled thus,—in sea-water-green suits, ash-colour cloaks, watchet stockings, and popinjay-green feathers: will not the colours do excellent? 65
Bian. Out upon ’t! they’ll look like citizens riding to their friends at Whitsuntide; their apparel just so many several parishes.
Bil. I’ll have it so; and Passarello, my fool, shall go along with me; marry, he shall be in velvet. 71
Bian. A fool in velvet!
Bil. Ay, ’t is common for your fool to wear satin; I’ll have mine in velvet.
Bian. What will you wear, then, my lord? 75
Bil. Velvet too; marry, it shall be embroidered, because I’ll differ from the fool somewhat. I am horribly troubled with the gout: nothing grieves me, but that my doctor hath forbidden me wine, and you know your ambassador (80) must drink. Didst thou ask thy doctor what was good for the gout?
Bian. Yes; he said, ease, wine, and women, were good for it.
Bil. Nay, thou hast such a wit! What was good to cure it, said he? 86
Bian. Why, the rack. All your empirics could never do the like cure upon the gout the rack did in England, or your Scotch boot.[2716] The French harlequin will instruct you. 90
Bil. Surely, I do wonder how thou, having for the most part of thy lifetime been a country body, shouldst have so good a wit.
Bian. Who, I? Why, I have been a courtier thrice two months. 95
Bil. So have I this twenty year, and yet there was a gentleman-usher called me coxcomb t’ other day, and to my face too: was ’t not a backbiting rascal? I would I were better travelled, that I might have been better acquainted with the fashions of several countrymen; (101) but my secretary, I think, he hath sufficiently instructed me.
Bian. How, my lord?
Bil. “Marry, my good lord,” quoth he, (105) “your lordship shall ever find amongst a hundred Frenchmen forty hot-shots; amongst a hundred Spaniards, three-score braggarts; amongst a hundred Dutchmen, four-score drunkards; amongst an hundred Englishmen, four-score 110 and ten madmen; and amongst an hundred Welshmen”——
Bian. What, my lord?
Bil. “Four-score and nineteen gentlemen.”[2717]
Bian. But since you go about a sad embassy. I would have you go in black, my lord. 116
Bil. Why, dost think I cannot mourn, unless I wear my hat in cypress,[2718] like an alderman’s heir? That’s vile, very old, in faith. 119
Bian. I’ll learn of you shortly: O, we should have a fine gallant of you, should not I instruct you! How will you bear yourself when you come into the Duke of Florence’ court?
Bil. Proud enough, and ’t will do well enough. As I walk up and down the chamber, I’ll (125) spit frowns about me, have a strong perfume in my jerkin, let my beard grow to make me look terrible, salute no man beneath the fourth button; and ’t will do excellent.
Bian. But there is a very beautiful lady (130) there; how will you entertain her?
Bil. I’ll tell you that, when the lady hath entertained me: but to satisfy thee, here comes the fool. Enter PASSARELLO. Fool, thou shalt stand for the fair lady. 135
Pass. Your fool will stand for your lady most willingly and most uprightly.
Bil. I’ll salute her in Latin.
Pass. O, your fool can understand no Latin.
Bil. Ay. but your lady can. 140
Pass. Why, then, if your lady take down your fool, your fool will stand no longer for your lady.
Bil. A pestilent fool! ’fore God, I think the world be turned upside down too. 145
Pass. O, no, sir; for then your lady and all the ladies in the palace should go with their heels upward, and that were a strange sight, you know. 149
Bil. There be many will repine at my preferment.
Pass. O, ay, like the envy of an elder sister, that hath her younger made a lady before her.
Bil. The duke is wondrous discontented.
Pass. Ay, and more melancholic than a (155) usurer having all his money out at the death of a prince.
Bil. Didst thou see Madam Floria to-day?
Pass. Yes, I found her repairing her face today; the red upon the white showed as if (160) her cheeks should have been served in for two dishes of barberries in stewed broth, and the flesh to them a woodcock.
Bil. A bitter fool![2719] Come, madam, this night thou shalt enjoy me freely, and tomorrow (165) for Florence.
Pass. What a natural fool is he that would be a pair of bodies[2720] to a woman’s petticoat, to be trussed and pointed to them! Well, I’ll dog my lord; and the word is proper: for when I 170 fawn upon him, he feeds me; when I snap him by the fingers, he spits in my mouth. If a dog’s death were not strangling, I had rather be one than a serving-man; for the corruption of coin is either the generation of a usurer or a lousy (175) beggar. Exeunt BIANCA and PASSARELLO.]
Act III, Scene II — [2721]
Enter MALEVOLE in some frieze gown, whilst BILIOSO reads his patent.
Mal. I cannot sleep; my eyes’ ill-neighbouring lids Will hold no fellowship. O thou pale sober night, Thou that in sluggish fumes all sense dost steep; Thou that giv’st all the world full leave to play, Unbend’st the feebled veins of sweaty labour! The galley-slave, that all the toilsome day 6 Tugs at his oar against the stubborn wave, Straining his rugged veins, snores fast; The stooping scythe-man, that doth barb[2722] the field, Thou mak’st wink sure: in night all creatures sleep; 10 Only the malcontent, that ’gainst his fate Repines and quarrels,—alas he’s goodman tell-clock! His sallow jaw-bones sink with wasting moan; Whilst others’ beds are down, his pillow’s stone.
Bil. Malevole! 15
Mal. Elder of Israel, thou honest defect of wicked nature and obstinate ignorance, when did thy wife let thee lie with her?
Bil. I am going ambassador to Florence.
Mal. Ambassador! Now, for thy country’s (20) honour, prithee, do not put up mutton and porridge i’ thy cloak-bag. Thy young lady wife goes to Florence with thee too, does she not?
Bil. No, I leave her at the palace. 24
Mal. At the palace! Now, discretion shield, man! For God’s love, let’s ha’ no more cuckolds! Hymen begins to put off his saffron robe:[2723] keep thy wife i’ the state of grace. Heart o’ truth, I would sooner leave my lady singled in a bordello than in the Genoa palace: 30 Sin there appearing in her sluttish shape, Would soon grow loathsome, even to blushes’ sense; Surfeit would choke[2724] intemperate appetite, Make the soul scent the rotten breath of lust. When in an Italian lascivious palace, 35 A lady guardianless, Left to the push of all allurement, The strongest incitements to immodesty, To have her bound, incens’d with wanton sweets, Her veins fill’d high with heating delicates, 40 Soft rest, sweet music, amorous masquerers, Lascivious banquets, sin itself gilt o’er, Strong fantasy tricking up strange delights, Presenting it dress’d pleasingly to sense, Sense leading it unto the soul, confirm’d 45 With potent examples, impudent custom, Entic’d by that great bawd, Opportunity; Thus being prepar’d, clap to her easy ear Youth in good clothes, well-shap’d, rich, Fair-spoken, promising, noble, ardent, blood-full, 50 Witty, flattering,—Ulysses absent, O Ithaca, can chastest Penelope hold out?
Bil. Mass, I’ll think on ’t. Farewell.
Mal. Farewell. Take thy wife with thee. Farewell. Exit BILIOSO. To Florence; um! it may prove good, it may! And we may once unmask our brows. 56
Act III, Scene III — [2725]
Enter COUNT CELSO.
Celso. My honour’d lord—,
Mal. Celso, peace! how is ’t? Speak low: pale fears Suspect that hedges, walls, and trees, have ears: Speak, how runs all?
Celso. I’ faith, my lord, that beast with many heads, 5 The staggering multitude, recoils apace: Though thorough great men’s envy, most men’s malice, Their much-intemperate heat hath banish’d you, Yet now they find envy and malice ne’er Produce faint reformation. 10 The duke, the too soft duke, lies as a block, For which two tugging factions seem to saw; But still the iron through the ribs they draw.
Mal. I tell thee, Celso, I have ever found Thy breast most far from shifting cowardice 15 And fearful baseness: therefore I’ll tell thee, Celso, I find the wind begins to come about; I’ll shift my suit of fortune. I know the Florentine, whose only force,[2726] By marrying his proud daughter to this prince, 20 Both banish’d me and made this weak lord duke, Will now forsake them all; be sure he will. I’ll lie in ambush for conveniency, Upon their severance to confirm myself.
Celso. Is Ferneze interr’d? 25
Mal. Of that at leisure: he lives.
Celso. But how stands Mendoza? How is ’t with him?
Mal. Faith, like a pair of snuffers, snibs filth in other men, and retains it in himself. 30
Celso. He does fly from public notice, methinks, as a hare does from hounds; the feet whereon he flies betray him.
Mal. I can track him, Celso. O, my disguise fools him most powerfully! 35 For that I seem a desperate malcontent, He fain would clasp with me: he’s the true slave That will put on the most affected grace For some vile second cause.
Enter MENDOZA.
Celso. He’s here. 40
Mal. Give place. Exit CELSO. Illo, ho, ho, ho! art there, old truepenny? Where hast thou spent thyself this morning? I see flattery in thine eyes, and damnation in thy soul. Ha, ye huge rascal! 45
Men. Thou art very merry.
Mal. As a scholar, futuens gratis. How does the devil go with thee now?
Men. Malevole, thou art an arrant knave.
Mal. Who, I? I have been a sergeant, (50) man.
Men. Thou art very poor.
Mal. As Job, an alchymist, or a poet.
Men. The duke hates thee.
Mal. As Irishmen do bum-cracks. 55
Men. Thou hast lost his amity.
Mal. As pleasing as maids lose their virginity.
Men. Would thou wert of a lusty spirit! Would thou wert noble! 60
Mal. Why, sure my blood gives me I am noble, sure I am of noble kind; for I find myself possessed with all their qualities;—love dogs, dice, and drabs, scorn wit in stuff-clothes; have beat my shoemaker, knocked my seamstress, (65) cuckold[ed] my ’pothecary, and undone my tailor. Noble! why not? since the stoic[2727] said, Neminem servum non ex regibus, neminem regem non ex servis esse oriundum; only busy Fortune touses, and the provident Chances 70 blend them together. I’ll give you a simile: did you e’er see a well with two buckets, whilst one comes up full to be emptied, another goes down empty to be filled? Such is the state of all humanity. Why, look you, I may (75) be the son of some duke; for, believe me, intemperate lascivious bastardy makes nobility doubtful: I have a lusty daring heart, Mendoza. 79
Men. Let’s grasp; I do like thee infinitely. Wilt enact one thing for me?
Mal. Shall I get by it? (MEN. gives him his purse.) Command me; I am thy slave, beyond death and hell.
Men. Murder the duke. 85
Mal. My heart’s wish, my soul’s desire, my fantasy’s dream, my blood’s longing, the only height of my hopes! How, O God, how! O, how my united spirits throng together, to strengthen my resolve! 90
Men. The duke is now a-hunting.
Mal. Excellent, admirable, as the devil would have it! Lend me, lend me, rapier, pistol, cross-bow: so, so, I’ll do it.
Men. Then we agree. 95
Mal. As Lent and fishmongers. Come, a-cap-a-pe, how? Inform.
Men. Know that this weak-brain’d duke, who only stands On Florence’ stilts, hath out of witless zeal Made me his heir, and secretly confirm’d 100 The wreath to me after his life’s full point.
Mal. Upon what merit?
Men. Merit! by heaven, I horn him. Only Ferneze’s death gave me state’s life. Tut, we are politic, he must not live now. 104
Mal. No reason, marry: but how must he die now?
Men. My utmost project is to murder the duke, that I might have his state, because he makes me his heir; to banish the duchess, that I might be rid of a cunning Lacedaemonian, (110) because I know Florence will forsake her; and then to marry Maria, the banished Duke Altofront’s wife, that her friends might strengthen me and my faction: that is all, la. 115
Mal. Do you love Maria?
Men. Faith, no great affection, but as wise men do love great women, to ennoble their blood and augment revenue. To accomplish this now, thus now. The duke is in the forest, next the sea: (120) single him, kill him, hurl him i’ the main, and proclaim thou sawest wolves eat him.
Mal. Um! Not so good. Methinks when he is slain, To get some hypocrite, some dangerous wretch That’s muffled o(’e)r with feigned holiness, 125 To swear he heard the duke on some steep cliff Lament his wife’s dishonour, and, in an agony Of his heart’s torture, hurl’d his groaning sides Into the swollen sea,—this circumstance Well made sounds probable: and hereupon 130 The duchess——
Men. May well be banish’d; O unpeerable invention! rare! Thou god of policy! it honeys me.
Mal. Then fear not for the wife of Altofront; I’ll close to her. 135
Men. Thou shalt, thou shalt. Our excellency is pleas’d: Why wert not thou an emperor? When we Are duke, I’ll make thee some great man, sure.
Mal. Nay. Make me some rich knave, and I’ll make myself Some great man.
Men. In thee be all my spirit: 140 Retain ten souls, unite thy virtual powers: Resolve; ha, remember greatness! Heart, farewell; The fate of all my hopes in thee doth dwell. [Exit.]
Re-enter CELSO.
Mal. Celso, didst hear?—O heaven, didst hear Such devilish mischief? Suffer’st thou the world 145 Carouse damnation even with greedy swallow, And still dost wink, still does thy vengeance slumber? If now thy brows are clear, when will they thunder? Exeunt.
Act III, Scene IV — [2728]
Enter PIETRO, FERRARDO, PREPASSO, and THREE PAGES.
Fer. The dogs are at a fault. Cornets like horns.
Pietro. Would God nothing but the dogs were at it! Let the deer pursue safety,[2729] the dogs follow the game, and do you follow the dogs: as for me, ’t is unfit one beast should hunt another; (5) I ha’ one chaseth me: an ’t please you, I would be rid of ye a little.
Fer. Would your grief would, as soon as we, leave you to quietness!
Pietro. I thank you. 10 Exeunt [FERRARDO and PREPASSO]. Boy, what dost thou dream of now?
1 Page. Of a dry summer, my lord; for here’s a hot world towards: but, my lord, I had a strange dream last night.
Pietro. What strange dream? 15
1 Page. Why, methought I pleased you with singing, and then I dreamt that you gave me that short sword.
Pietro. Prettily begged: hold thee, I’ll prove thy dream true; take ’t. [Giving sword.] 20
1 Page. My duty: but still I dreamt on, my lord; and methought, an ’t shall please your excellency, you would needs out of your royal bounty give me that jewel in your hat.
Pietro. O, thou didst but dream, boy; do (25) not believe it: dreams prove not always true; they may hold in a short sword, but not in a jewel. But now, sir, you dreamt you had pleased me with singing; make that true, as I ha’ made the other. 30
1 Page. Faith, my lord, I did but dream, and dreams, you say, prove not always true; they may hold in a good sword, but not in a good song. The truth is, I ha’ lost my voice.
Pietro. Lost thy voice! How? 35
1 Page. With dreaming, faith: but here ’s a couple of sirenical rascals shall enchant ye. What shall they sing, my good lord?
Pietro. Sing of the nature of women: and then the song shall be surely full of variety, (40) old crotchets, and most sweet closes; it shall be humorous, grave, fantastic, amorous, melancholy, sprightly, one in all, and all in one.
1 Page. All in one!
Pietro. By ’r lady, too many. Sing: my (45) speech grows culpable of unthrifty idleness:[2730] sing.
Song [by 2 and 3 Pages].
Act III, Scene V — [2731]
[To Pietro] Enter MALEVOLE, with cross-bow and pistol.
Pietro. Ah, so, so, sing. I am heavy: walk off; I shall talk in my sleep: walk off. Exeunt PAGES.
Mal. Brief, brief: who? The Duke! Good heaven, that fools Should stumble upon greatness!—Do not sleep, duke; 4 Give ye good-morrow. I[2732] must be brief, duke; I am fee’d to murder thee:—start not:—Mendoza, Mendoza hir’d me; here ’s his gold, his pistol, Cross-bow, [and] sword: ’t is all as firm as earth. O fool, fool, choked with the common maze Of easy idiots, credulity! 10 Make him thine heir! What, thy sworn murderer!
Pietro. O, can it be?
Mal. Can!
Pietro. Discover’d he not Ferneze?
Mal. Yes, but why? but why? For love to thee? 15 Much, much! To be reveng’d upon his rival, Who had thrust his jaws awry; Who being slain, suppos’d by thine own hands, Defended by his sword, made thee most loathsome, Him most gracious with thy loose princess: 20 Thou, closely[2733] yielding egress and regress to her, Madest him heir; whose hot unquiet lust Straight tous’d thy sheets, and now would seize thy state. Politician! Wise man! Death! to be Led to the stake like a bull by the horns; 25 To make even kindness cut a gentle throat! Life, why art thou numb’d? Thou foggy dulness, speak: Lives not more faith in a home-thrusting tongue Than in those fencing tip-tap courtiers?
Enter CELSO, with a hermit’s gown and beard.
[Pietro.][2734] Lord Malevole, if this be true—
Mal. If! Come, shade thee with this disguise. (31) If! Thou shalt handle it; he shall thank thee for killing thyself. Come, follow my directions, and thou shalt see strange sleights.
Pietro. World, whither wilt thou? 35
Mal. Why, to the devil. Come, the morn grows late: A steady quickness is the soul of state. Exeunt.
Act IV, Scene I — [2735]
Enter MAQUERELLE, knocking at the ladies’ door.
Maq. Medam, medam, are you stirring, medam? If you be stirring, medam,—if I thought I should disturb ye—
[Enter Page.]
Page. My lady is up, forsooth.
Maq. A pretty boy, faith: how old art thou?
Page. I think fourteen. 6
Maq. Nay, an ye be in the teens—are ye a gentleman born? Do you know me? My name is Medam Maquerelle; I lie in the old Cunny-court. 10
Enter BIANCA and EMILIA.
[Page.] See, here the ladies.
Bian. A fair day to ye, Maquerelle.
Emil. Is the duchess up yet, sentinel?
Maq. O ladies, the most abominable mischance! O dear ladies the most piteous disaster! (15) Ferneze was taken last night in the duchess’ chamber. Alas, the duke catcht him and kill’d him!
Bian. Was he found in bed?
Maq. O, no; but the villanous certainty is, (20) the door was not bolted, the tongue-tied hatch held his peace: so the naked troth is, he was found in his shirt, whilst I, like an arrant beast, lay in the outward chamber, heard nothing; and yet they came by me in the dark, and (25) yet I felt them not, like a senseless creature as I was. O beauties, look to your busk-points;[2736] if not chastely, yet charily: be sure the door be bolted.—Is your lord gone to Florence?
Bian. Yes, Maquerelle. 30
Maq. I hope you ’ll find the discretion to purchase a fresh gown ’fore his return.—Now, by my troth, beauties, I would ha’ ye once wise. He loves ye; pish! He is witty; bubble! Fair-proportioned; mew! Nobly-born; wind! Let (35) this be still your fixed position: esteem me every man according to his good gifts, and so ye shall ever remain most worthy to be most dear ladies.
Emil. Is the duke returned from hunting yet? 40
Maq. They say not yet.
Bian. ’T is now in midst of day.
Emil. How bears the duchess with this blemish now?
Maq. Faith, boldly; strongly defies defame, as one that has a duke to her father. And (45) there ’s a note to you: be sure of a stout friend in a corner, that may always awe your husband. Mark the behaviour of the duchess now: she dares defame, cries, “Duke, do what thou canst, I ’ll quit mine honour:” nay, as one (50) confirmed in her own virtue against ten thousand mouths that mutter her disgrace, she ’s presently for dances.
Enter FERRARDO.
Bian. For dances!
Maq. Most true. 55
Emil. Most strange. See, here ’s my servant,[2737] young Ferrardo. How many servants thinkest thou I have, Maquerelle?[2738]
Maq. The more, the merrier. ’T was well (59) said, use your servants as you do your smocks; have many, use one, and change often; for that ’s most sweet and courtlike.
Fer. Save ye, fair ladies! Is the duke return’d?
Bian. Sweet sir, no voice of him as yet in court.
Fer. ’T is very strange. 65
Bian. And how like you my servant, Maquerelle?
Maq. I think he could hardly draw Ulysses’ bow; but, by my fidelity, were his nose narrower, his eyes broader, his hands thinner, (69) his lips thicker, his legs bigger, his feet lesser, his hair blacker, and his teeth whiter, he were a tolerable sweet youth, i’ faith. And he will come to my chamber, I will read him the fortune of his beard. Cornets sound. 74
Fer. Not yet return’d! I fear—but the duchess approacheth.
Act IV, Scene II — [2739]
Enter MENDOZA supporting the Duchess and GUERRINO: the ladies that are on the stage rise: FERRARDO ushers in the Duchess, and then takes a lady to tread a measure.[2740]
Aur. We will dance: music!—we will dance.
Guer. Les quanto,[2741] lady, Pensez bien, Passa regis, or Bianca’s brawl?
Aur. We have forgot the brawl.
Fer. So soon? ’T is wonder. 5
Guer. Why, ’t is but two singles on the left, two on the right, three doubles forward, a traverse of six round: do this twice, three singles side, galliard trick-of-twenty, coranto-pace; a figure of eight, three singles broken down, (10) come up, meet, two doubles, fall back, and then honour.
Aur. O Daedalus, thy maze! I have quite forgot it.
Maq. Trust me, so have I, saving the falling-back, and then honour. 16
Enter PREPASSO.
Aur. Music, music!
Prep. Who saw the duke? the duke?
Enter EQUATO.
Aur. Music!
Equato. The duke? is the duke returned? 20
Aur. Music!
Enter CELSO.
Celso. The duke is either quite invisible, or else is not.
Aur. We are not pleased with your intrusion upon our private retirement; we are not (25) pleased: you have forgot yourselves.
Enter a Page.
Celso. Boy, thy master? Where’s the duke?
Page. Alas, I left him burying the earth with his spread joyless limbs: he told me he was heavy, would sleep; bade me walk off, 30 for that the strength of fantasy oft made him talk in his dreams. I straight obeyed, nor ever saw him since: but whereso’er he is, he ’s sad.
Aur. Music, sound high, as is our heart! Sound high! 35
Act IV, Scene III — [2742]
[To them] enter MALEVOLE, and PIETRO disguised like an hermit.
Mal. The duke,—peace!—the duke is dead.
Aur. Music!
Mal. Is ’t music?
Men. Give proof.
Fer. How? 5
Celso. Where?
Prep. When?
Mal. Rest in peace, as the duke does: quietly sit: for my own part, I beheld him but dead; that ’s all. Marry, here ’s one can give you 10 a more particular account of him.
Men. Speak, holy father, nor let any brow Within this presence fright thee from the truth: Speak confidently and freely.
Aur. We attend.
Pietro. Now had the mounting sun’s all-ripening wings 15 Swept the cold sweat of night from earth’s dank breast, When I, whom men call Hermit of the Rock, Forsook my cell, and clambered up a cliff, Against whose base the heady Neptune dash’d His high-curl’d brows; there ’t was I eas’d my limbs: 20 When, lo! my entrails melted with the moan Some one, who far ’bove me was climb’d, did make— I shall offend.
Men. Not.
Aur. On. 25
Pietro. Methinks I hear him yet:—“O female faith! Go sow the ingrateful sand, and love a woman! And do I live to be the scoff of men? To be their wittol-cuckold, even to hug My poison? Thou knowest, O truth! 30 Sooner hard steel will melt with southern wind, A seaman’s whistle calm the ocean, A town on fire be extinct with tears, Than women, vow’d to blushless impudence, With sweet behaviour and soft minioning 35 Will turn from that where appetite is fix’d. O powerful blood! how thou dost slave their soul! I wash’d an Ethiop, who, for recompense, Sullied my name: and must I, then, be forc’d 39 To walk, to live thus black? Must! must! fie! He that can bear with ’must,’ he cannot die.” With that he sigh’d so passionately deep, That the dull air even groan’d: at last he cries, “Sink shame in seas, sink deep enough!” so dies; For then I viewed his body fall, and souse 45 Into the foamy main. O, then I saw, That which methinks I see, it was the duke; Whom straight the nicer-stomach’d sea belch ’d up: But then——
Mal. Then came I in; but, ’las, all was too late! 50 For even straight he sunk.
Pietro. Such was the duke’s sad fate.
Celso. A better fortune to our Duke Mendoza!
Omnes. Mendoza! Cornets flourish.
Men. A guard, a guard! Enter a Guard. We, full of hearty tears, For our good father’s loss, 55 (For so we well may call him Who did beseech your loves for our succession), Cannot so lightly over-jump his death As leave his woes revengeless.—(To AURELIA.) Woman of shame, We banish thee for ever to the place 60 From whence this good man comes; nor permit, On death, unto thy body any ornament; But, base as was thy life, depart away.
Aur. Ungrateful!
Men. Away! 65
Aur. Villain, hear me!
PREPASSO and GUERRINO lead away AURELIA.
Men. Begone! My lords, Address to[2743] public council; ’t is most fit: The train of fortune is borne up by wit. Away! our presence shall be sudden; haste. 70 All depart saving MENDOZA, MALEVOLE, and PIETRO.
Mal. Now, you egregious devil! Ha, ye murdering politician! How dost, duke? How dost look now? Brave duke, i’ faith.
Men. How did you kill him?
Mal. Slatted his brains out, then soused him in the briny sea. 76
Men. Brained him, and drowned him too?
Mal. O ’t was best, sure work; for he that strikes a great man, let him strike home, or else ’ware, he’ll prove no man. Shoulder not 80 a huge fellow, unless you may be sure to lay him in the kennel.
Men. A most sound brain-pan! I’ll make you both emperors.
Mal. Make us Christians, make us Christians.
Men. I’ll hoist ye, ye shall mount. 86
Mal. To the gallows, say ye? Come: praemium incertum petit, certum scelus.[2744] How stands the progress?
Men. Here, take my ring unto the citadel; 90 [Giving ring.] Have entrance to Maria, the grave duchess Of banish’d Altofront. Tell her we love her; Omit no circumstance to grace our person: do ’t.
Mal. I’ll make an excellent pander: duke, farewell; ’dieu, adieu, duke. 95
Men. Take Maquerelle with thee; for ’t is found None cuts a diamond but a diamond. Exit MALEVOLE. Hermit, Thou art a man for me, my confessor: O thou selected spirit, born for my good, Sure thou wouldst make 100 An excellent elder in a deform’d church. Come, we must be inward,[2745] thou and I all one.
Pietro. I am glad I was ordained for ye.
Men. Go to, then; thou must know that Malevole is a strange villain; dangerous, very (105) dangerous: you see how broad ’a speaks; a gross-jawed rogue. I would have thee poison him: he’s like a corn upon my great toe, I cannot go for him; he must be cored out, he must. Wilt do ’t, ha? 110
Pietro. Anything, anything.
Men. Heart of my life! thus, then. To the citadel; Thou shalt consort with this Malevole; There being at supper, poison him. It shall be laid Upon Maria, who yields love or dies. 115 Send quick.
Pietro. Like lightning: good deeds crawl, but mischief flies. Exit.
Re-enter MALEVOLE.
Mal. Your devilship’s ring has no virtue: the buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon-faced zaza cries, “Stand out!” must have a stiffer warrant, or no pass into the castle (121) of comfort.
Men. Command our sudden letter.—Not enter! sha’t: what place is there in Genoa but thou shalt? Into my heart, into my very heart: come, let’s love: we must love, we two, soul (125) and body.
Mal. How didst like the hermit? A strange hermit, sirrah.
Men. A dangerous fellow, very perilous. He must die. 131
Mal. Ay, he must die.
Men. Thou’st kill him. We are wise; we must be wise.
Mal. And provident. 135
Men. Yea, provident: beware an hypocrite; A churchman once corrupted. O, avoid! A fellow that makes religion his stalking-horse.[2746] He breeds a plague. Thou shalt poison him.
Mal. O, ’tis wondrous necessary: how? 140
Men. You both go jointly to the citadel; There sup, there poison him: and Maria, Because she is our opposite,[2747] shall bear The sad suspect; on which she dies or loves us.
Mal. I run. Exit.
Men. We that are great, our sole self-good still moves us. 146 They shall die both, for their deserts crave more Than we can recompense: their presence still Imbraids[2748] our fortunes with beholdingness, Which we abhor; like deed, not doer: then conclude, 150 They live not to cry out “Ingratitude!” One stick burns t’ other, steel cuts steel alone: ’Tis good trust few; but, O, ’tis best trust none! Exit.
Act IV, Scene IV — [2749]
Enter MALEVOLE and PIETRO, still disguised, at several doors.
Mal. How do you? How dost duke?
Pietro. O, let The last day fall! drop, drop on our curs’d heads! Let heaven unclasp itself, vomit forth flames.
Mal. O, do not rave, do not turn player; (5) there’s more of them than can well live one by another already. What, art an infidel still?
Pietro. I am amazed, struck in a swoon with wonder: I am commanded to poison thee—
Mal. I am commanded to poison thee at (10) supper—
Pietro. At supper—
Mal. In the citadel—
Pietro. In the citadel.
Mal. Cross capers! tricks! Truth o’ (15) heaven! he would discharge us as boys do eldern guns one pellet to strike out another. Of what faith art now?
Pietro. All is damnation; wickedness extreme: There is no faith in man. 20
Mal. In none but usurers and brokers; they deceive no man: men take ’em for blood-suckers, and so they are. Now, God deliver me from my friends!
Pietro. Thy friends! 25
Mal. Yes, from my friends; for from mine enemies I’ll deliver myself. O, cut-throat friendship is the rankest villainy! Mark this Mendoza; mark him for a villain: but heaven will send a plague upon him for a rogue. 30
Pietro. O world!
Mal. World! ’tis the only region of death, the greatest shop of the devil; the cruelest prison of men, out of the which none pass without paying their dearest breath for a fee; (35) there’s nothing perfect in it but extreme, extreme calamity, such as comes yonder.
Act IV, Scene V — [2750]
Enter AURELIA, two halberts before and two after, supported by CELSO and FERRARDO; AURELIA in base mourning attire.
Aur. To banishment! led on to banishment!
Pietro. Lady, the blessedness of repentance to you!
Aur. Why, why, I can desire nothing but death, Nor deserve anything but hell. 5 If heaven should give sufficiency of grace To clear my soul, it would make heaven graceless: My sins would make the stock of mercy poor; O, they would tire heaven’s goodness to reclaim them! Judgment is just, yet from that vast villain, 10 But, sure, he shall not miss sad punishment ’Fore he shall rule.—On to my cell of shame!
Pietro. My cell ’tis, lady; where, instead of masks, Music, tilts, tourneys, and such court-like shows, The hollow murmur of the checkless winds 15 Shall groan again; whilst the unquiet sea Shakes the whole rock with foamy battery. There usherless the air comes in and out: The rheumy vault will force your eyes to weep, Whilst you behold true desolation. 20 A rocky barrenness shall pain your eyes, Where all at once one reaches where he stands, With brows the roof, both walls with both his hands.
Aur. It is too good.—Bless’d spirit of my lord, O, in what orb so’er thy soul is thron’d, 25 Behold me worthily most miserable! O, let the anguish of my contrite spirit Entreat some reconciliation! If not, O, joy, triumph in my just grief! Death is the end of woes and tears relief. 30
Pietro. Belike your lord not lov’d you, was unkind.
Aur. O heaven! As the soul loves[2751] the body, so lov’d he: ’T was death to him to part my presence, heaven To see me pleas’d. 35 Yet I, like a wretch given o’er to hell, Brake all the sacred rites of marriage, To clip[2752] a base ungentle faithless villain; O God! a very pagan reprobate— What should I say? ungrateful, throws me out, 40 For whom I lost soul, body, fame, and honour. But ’t is most fit: why should a better fate Attend on any who forsake chaste sheets; Fly the embrace of a devoted heart, Join’d by a solemn vow ’fore God and man, 45 To taste the brackish[2753] flood[2754] of beastly lust In an adulterous touch? O ravenous immodesty! Insatiate impudence of appetite! Look, here ’s your end; for mark, what sap in dust, What good in sin,[2755] even so much love in lust. 50 Joy to thy ghost, sweet lord! pardon to me!
Celso. ’T is the duke’s pleasure this night you rest in court.
Aur. Soul, lurk in shades; run, shame, from brightsome skies; In night the blind man misses not his eyes. 55 Exit [with CELSO, FERRARDO, and halberts].
Mal. Do not weep, kind cuckold: take comfort, man; thy betters have been beccos:[2756] Agamemnon, emperor of all the merry Greeks, that tickled all the true Trojans, was a cornuto; Prince Arthur, that cut off twelve kings’ (60) beards, was a cornuto; Hercules, whose back bore up heaven, and got forty wenches with child in one night,—
Pietro. Nay, ’t was fifty.
Mal. Faith, forty ’s enow, o’ conscience,—yet (65) was a cornuto. Patience; mischief grows proud: be wise.
Pietro. Thou pinchest too deep; art too keen upon me.
Mal. Tut, a pitiful surgeon makes a dangerous (70) sore; I ’ll tent[2757] thee to the ground. Thinkest I ’ll sustain myself by flattering thee, because thou art a prince? I had rather follow a drunkard, and live by licking up his vomit, than by servile flattery. 75
Pietro. Yet great men ha’ done ’t.
Mal. Great slaves fear better than love, born naturally for a coal-basket;[2758] though the common usher of princes’ presence, Fortune, ha’ blindly given them better place. I am (80) vowed to be thy affliction.
Pietro. Prithee, be: I love much misery, and be thou son to me.
Mal. Because you are an usurping duke.— Enter BILIOSO. Your lordship’s well returned from Florence.
Bil. Well return’d, I praise my horse. 85
Mal. What news from the Florentines?
Bil. I will conceal the great duke’s pleasure; only this was his charge: his pleasure is, that his daughter die; Duke Pietro be banished (90) for publishing[2759] his blood’s dishonour; and that Duke Altofront be re-accepted. This is all: but I hear Duke Pietro is dead.
Mal. Ay, and Mendoza is duke: what will you do? 95
Bil. Is Mendoza strongest?
Mal. Yet he is.
Bil. Then yet I ’ll hold with him.
Mal. But if that Altofront should turn straight again? 100
Bil. Why, then, I would turn straight again. ’T is good run still with him that has most might: I had rather stand with wrong, than fall with right.
Mal. What religion will you be of now?
Bil. Of the Duke’s religion, when I know what it is. 106
Mal. O Hercules!
Bil. Hercules! Hercules was the son of Jupiter and Alcmena.
Mal. Your lordship is a very wit-all. 110
Bil. Wittal!
Mal. Aye, all-wit.
Bil. Amphitryo was a cuckold.
Mal. Your lordship swears; your young lady will get you a cloth for your old worship’s (115) brows. (Exit BILIOSO.) Here’s a fellow to be damn’d: this is his inviolable maxim.—flatter the greatest and oppress the least: a whoreson flesh-fly, that still knaws upon the lean galled backs. 120
Pietro. Why dost, then, salute him?
Mal. Faith, as bawds go to church, for fashion sake. Come, be not confounded; thou ’rt but in danger to lose a dukedom. Think this:—this earth is the only grave and Golgotha (125) wherein all things that live must rot; ’t is but the draught wherein the heavenly bodies discharge their corruption; the very muck-hill on which the sublunary orbs cast their excrements: man is the slime of this dung pit, (130) and princes are the governors of these men; for, for our souls, they are as free as emperors, all of one piece; there goes but a pair of shears betwixt[2760] an emperor and the son of a bagpiper; only the dying, dressing, pressing, glossing, (135) makes the difference. Now, what art thou like to lose? A gaoler’s office to keep men in bonds, Whilst toil and treason all life’s good confounds.
Pietro. I here renounce for ever regency: 140 O Altofront, I wrong thee to supplant thy right, To trip thy heels up with a devilish sleight! For which I now from throne am thrown: world-tricks abjure; For vengeance, though ’t comes slow, yet it comes sure. O, I am chang’d! for here, ’fore the dread power, 145 In true contrition, I do dedicate My breath to solitary holiness, My lips to prayer, and my breast’s care shall be, Restoring Altofront to regency.
Mal. Thy vows are heard, and we accept thy faith. Undisguiseth himself. Re-enter FERNEZE and CELSO. Banish amazement: come, we four must stand 151 Full shock of fortune: be not so wonder-stricken.
Pietro. Doth Ferneze live?
Fer. For your pardon.
Pietro. Pardon and love. Give leave to recollect 155 My thoughts-dispers’d in wild astonishment. My vows stand fix’d in heaven, and from hence I crave all love and pardon.
Mal. Who doubts of providence, That sees this change? A hearty faith to all! He needs must rise who can no lower fall: 161 For still impetuous vicissitude Touseth the world; then let no maze intrude Upon your spirits: wonder not I rise; For who can sink that close can temporize? 165 The time grows ripe for action: I ’ll detect My privat’st plot, lest ignorance fear suspect. Let ’s close to counsel, leave the rest to fate: Mature discretion is the life of state. Exeunt.
Act V
[SCENE Ia.[2761]
Enter BILIOSO and PASSARELLO.
Bil. Fool, how dost thou like my calf in a long stocking?
Pass. An excellent calf, my lord.
Bil. This calf hath been a reveller this twenty year. When Monsieur Gundi lay here ambassador, (5) I could have carried a lady up and down at arm’s end in a platter; and I can tell you, there were those at that time who, to try the strength of a man’s back and his arm, would be coistered.[2762] I have measured calves with (10) most of the palace, and they come nothing near me; besides, I think there be not many armours in the arsenal will fit me, especially for the headpiece. I’ll tell thee—
Pass. What, my lord? 15
Bil. I can eat stewed broth as it comes seething off the fire; or a custard as it comes reeking out of the oven; and I think there are not many lords can do it. A good pomander,[2763] a little decayed in the scent; but six grains of musk, (20) ground with rose-water, and tempered with a little civet, shall fetch her again presently.
Pass. O, ay, as a bawd with aqua-vitae.
Bil. And, what, dost thou rail upon the ladies as thou wert wont? 25
Pass. I were better roast a live cat, and might do it with more safety. I am as secret to [the] thieves as their painting. There ’s Maquerelle, oldest bawd and a perpetual beggar—did you never hear of her trick to be known in the (30) city?
Bil. Never.
Pass. Why, she gets all the picture-makers to draw her picture; when they have done, she most courtly finds fault with them one after (35) another, and never fetcheth them. They, in revenge of this, execute her in pictures as they do in Germany, and hang her in their shops. By this means is she better known to the stinkards[2764] than if she had been five times carted. 40
Bil. ’Fore God, an excellent policy.
Pass. Are there any revels to-night, my lord?
Bil. Yes.
Pass. Good my lord, give me leave to break a fellow’s pate that hath abused me. 45
Bil. Whose pate?
Pass. Young Ferrardo, my lord.
Bil. Take heed, he’s very valiant; I have known him fight eight quarrels in five days, believe it. 50
Pass. O, is he so great a quarreller? Why, then, he’s an arrant coward.
Bil. How prove you that?
Pass. Why, thus. He that quarrels seeks to fight; and he that seeks to fight seeks to (55) die; and he that seeks to die seeks never to fight more; and he that will quarrel, and seeks means never to answer a man more, I think he ’s a coward.
Bil. Thou canst prove anything. 60
Pass. Anything but a rich knave; for I can flatter no man.
Bil. Well, be not drunk, good fool: I shall see you anon in the presence. Exeunt.]
Act V, Scene I — [2765]
Enter, from opposite sides, MALEVOLE and MAQUERELLE, singing.
Mal. “The Dutchman for a drunkard,”—
Maq. “The Dane for golden locks,”—
Mal. “The Irishman for usquebaugh,”—
Maq. “The Frenchman for the ( ).”
Mal. O, thou art a blessed creature! Had (5) I a modest woman to conceal, I would put her to thy custody; for no reasonable creature would ever suspect her to be in thy company. Ah, thou art a melodious Maquerelle,—thou picture of a woman, and substance of a beast!
[[2766] Enter PASSARELLO with wine.
Maq. O fool, will ye be ready anon to go (11) with me to the revels? The hall will be so pestered[2767] anon.
Pass. Ay, as the country is with attorneys.
Mal. What hast thou there, fool? 15
Pass. Wine; I have learned to drink since I went with my lord ambassador: I ’ll drink to the health of Madam Maquerelle,
Mal. Why, thou wast wont to rail upon her.
Pass. Ay; but since I borrowed money of (20) her, I ’ll drink to her health now; as gentlemen visit brokers, or as knights send venison to the city, either to take up more money, or to procure longer forbearance.
Mal. Give me the bowl. I drink a health (25) to Altofront, our deposed duke. [Drinks.]
Pass. I’ll take it [drinks]:—so. Now I ’ll begin a health to Madam Maquerelle. [Drinks.]
Mal. Pooh! I will not pledge her.
Pass. Why, I pledged your lord. 30
Mal. I care not.
Pass. Not pledge Madam Maquerelle! Why, then, will I spew up your lord again with this fool’s finger.
Mal. Hold; I ’ll take it. [Drinks.]
Maq. Now thou hast drunk my health, (36) fool, I am friends with thee.
Pass. Art? art? When Griffon[2768] saw the reconciled quean Offering about his neck her arms to cast, 40 He threw off sword and heart’s malignant spleen,[2769] And lovely her below the loins embrac’d.— Adieu, Madam Maquerelle. Exit.]
Mal. And how dost thou think o’ this transformation of state now? 45
Maq. Verily, very well; for we women always note, the falling of the one is the rising of the other; some must be fat, some must be lean; some must be fools, and some must be lords; some must be knaves, and some must be officers; some (50) must be beggars, some must be knights; some must be cuckolds, and some must be citizens. As for example, I have two court-dogs, the most fawning curs, the one called Watch, the other Catch: now I, like Lady Fortune, sometimes love this dog, sometimes raise that (56) dog, sometimes favour Watch, most commonly fancy Catch. Now, that dog which I favour I feed; and he ’s so ravenous, that what I give he never chaws it, gulps it down whole, without any relish of what he has, but with a greedy 61 expectation of what he shall have. The other dog now—
Mal. No more dog, sweet Maquerelle, no more dog. And what hope hast thou of the (65) Duchess Maria? Will she stoop to the duke’s lure? Will she come, thinkest?
Maq. Let me see, where ’s the sign now? Ha’ ye e’er a calendar? Where ’s the sign, trow you? 70
Mal. Sign! why is there any moment in that?
Maq. O, believe me, a most secret power: look ye, a Chaldean or an Assyrian, I am sure ’t was a most sweet Jew, told me, court any woman in the right sign, you shall not miss. But you must take her in the right vein (76) then; as, when the sign is in Pisces, a fishmonger’s wife is very sociable; in Cancer, a precisian’s wife is very flexible; in Capricorn, a merchant’s wife hardly holds out; in Libra, a lawyer’s wife is very tractable, especially if (81) her husband be at the term; only in Scorpio ’t is very dangerous meddling. Has the duke sent any jewel, any rich stones?
Enter CAPTAIN.
Mal. Ay, I think those are the best signs to (85) take a lady in. By your favour, signior, I must discourse with the Lady Maria, Altofront’s duchess; I must enter for the duke.
Capt. She here shall give you interview. I (89) received the guardship of this citadel from the good Altofront, and for his use I’ll keep ’t, till I am of no use.
Mal. Wilt thou? O heavens, that a Christian should be found in a buff-jerkin! Captain Conscience, I love thee, captain. (Exit Captain.) (95) We attend. And what hope hast thou of this duchess’ easiness?
Maq. ’T will go hard, she was a cold creature ever; she hated monkeys, fools, jesters, (99) and gentlemen-ushers extremely; she had the vile trick on ’t, not only to be truly modestly honourable in her own conscience, but she would avoid the least wanton carriage that might incur suspect; as, God bless me, she had almost brought bed-pressing out of fashion; I (105) could scarce get a fine for the lease of a lady’s favour once in a fortnight.
Mal. Now, in the name of immodesty, how many maidenheads has thou brought to the block? 110
Maq. Let me see: heaven forgive us our misdeeds!—Here’s the duchess.
Act V, Scene II — [2770]
[To them] enter MARIA with Captain.
Mal. God bless thee, lady!
Maria. Out of thy company!
Mal. We have brought thee tender of a husband.
Maria. I hope I have one already. 5
Maq. Nay, by mine honour, madam, as good ha’ ne’er a husband as a banished husband; he’s in another world now. I ’ll tell ye, lady, I have heard of a sect that maintained, when the husband was asleep the wife might lawfully (10) entertain another man, for then her husband was as dead; much more when he is banished.
Maria. Unhonest creature! 14
Maq. Pish, honesty is but an art to seem so: Pray ye, what ’s honesty, what ’s constancy, But fables feign’d, odd old fools’ chat, devis’d By jealous fools to wrong our liberty?
Mal. Molly, he that loves thee is a duke, Mendoza; he will maintain thee royally, love (20) thee ardently, defend thee powerfully, marry thee sumptuously, and keep thee in despite of Rosicleer[2771] or Donzel del Phebo. There’s jewels: if thou wilt, so; if not, so.
Maria. Captain, for God’s love, save poor wretchedness 25 From tyranny of lustful insolence! Enforce me in the deepest dungeon dwell, Rather than here; here round about is hell.— O my dear’st Altofront! where’er thou breathe, Let my soul sink into the shades beneath, 30 Before I stain thine honour! ’T is[2772] thou has ’t, And long as I can die, I will live chaste.
Mal. ’Gainst him that can enforce how vain is strife!
Maria. She that can be enforc’d has ne’er a knife: She that through force her limbs with lust enrolls, 35 Wants Cleopatra’s asps and Portia’s coals. God amend you! Exit with Captain.
Mal. Now, the fear of the devil for ever go with thee!—Maquerelle, I tell thee, I have found an honest woman: faith, I perceive, 40 when all is done, there is of women, as of all other things, some good, most bad; some saints, some sinners, for as nowadays no courtier but has his mistress, no captain but has his cockatrice, 44 no cuckold but has his horns, and no fool but has his feather; even so, no woman but has her weakness and feather too, no sex but has his—I can hunt the letter no farther.—(Aside.) O God, how loathsome this toying is to me! That (49) a duke should be forced to fool it! Well, stultorum plena sunt omnia:[2773] better play the fool lord than be the fool lord.—Now, where’s your sleights, Madam Maquerelle?
Maq. Why, are ye ignorant that ’t is said a squeamish affected niceness is natural to (55) women, and that the excuse of their yielding is only, forsooth, the difficult obtaining? You must put her to ’t: women are flax, and will fire in a moment.
Mal. Why, was the flax put into thy mouth, and yet thou— 60 Thou set fire, thou inflame her!
Maq. Marry, but I’ll tell ye now, you were too hot.
Mal. The fitter to have inflamed the flax, woman. 65
Maq. You were too boisterous, spleeny, for, indeed—
Mal. Go, go, thou art a weak pandress; now I see, Sooner earth’s fire heaven itself shall waste, 69 Than all with heat can melt a mind that’s chaste. Go; thou the duke’s lime-twig! I’ll make the duke turn thee out of thine office: what, not get one touch of hope, and had her at such advantage! 74
Maq. Now, o’ my conscience, now I think in my discretion, we did not take her in the right sign; the blood was not in the true vein, sure. Exit.
Act V, Scene III
[Enter[2774] BILIOSO.
Bil. Make way there! The duke returns from the enthronement.—Malevole—
Mal. Out, rogue!
Bil. Malevole,—
Mal. “Hence, ye gross-jawed, peasantly (5)—out, go!”[2775]
Bil. Nay, sweet Malevole, since my return I hear you are become the thing I always prophesied would be,—an advanced virtue, a worthily-employed faithfulness, a man o’ grace, (10) dear friend. Come; what! Si quoties peccant homines[2776]—if as often as courtiers play the knaves, honest men should be angry—why, look ye, we must collogue[2777] sometimes, forswear sometimes. 15
Mal. Be damned sometimes.
Bil. Right: nemo omnibus horis sapit; “no man can be honest at all hours:” necessity often depraves virtue.
Mal. I will commend thee to the duke. 20
Bil. Do: let us be friends, man.
Mal. And knaves, man.
Bil. Right: let us prosper and purchase: our lordships shall live, and our knavery be forgotten. 25
Mal. He that by any ways gets riches, his means never shames him.
Bil. True.
Mal. For impudency and faithlessness are the main stays to greatness. 30
Bil. By the Lord, thou art a profound lad.
Mal. By the Lord, thou art a perfect knave: out, ye ancient damnation!
Bil. Peace, peace! and thou wilt not be a friend to me as I am a knave, be not a knave to me as I am thy friend, and disclose me. Peace! cornets!] 37
Enter PREPASSO and FERRARDO, two Pages with lights, CELSO and EQUATO, MENDOZA in duke’s robes, and GUERRINO.
Men. On, on; leave us, leave us. Exeunt all saving MALEVOLE [and MENDOZA]. Stay, where is the hermit?
Mal. With Duke Pietro, with Duke Pietro. 40
Men. Is he dead? Is he poisoned?
Mal. Dead, as the duke is.
Men. Good, excellent: he will not blab: secureness lives in secrecy. Come hither, come hither. 45
Mal. Thou hast a certain strong villainous scent about thee my nature cannot endure.
Men. Scent, man! What returns Maria, what answer to our suit?
Mal. Cold, frosty; she is obstinate. 50
Men. Then she’s but dead; ’t is resolute, she dies: “Black deed only through black deed safely flies.”
Mal. Pooh! per scelera semper sceleribus tutum est iter.[2778]
Men. What, art a scholar? Art a politician? Sure, thou art an arrant knave. 56
Mal. Who, I? I ha’ been twice an under-sheriff, man.[2779] [Well, I will go rail upon some great man, that I may purchase the bastinado, or else go marry some rich Genoan lady, and instantly go travel.
Men. Travel, when thou art married? 62
Mal. Ay, ’t is your young lord’s fashion to do so, though he was so lazy, being a bachelor, that he would never travel so far as the university: (65) yet, when he married her, tales off, and, Catso, for England!
Men. And why for England?
Mal. Because there is no brothel-houses there.
Men. Nor courtesans? 70
Mal. Neither; your whore went down with the stews, and your punk came up with your puritan.]
Men. Canst thou empoison? Canst thou empoison? 75
Mal. Excellently; no Jew, ’pothecary, or politician better. Look ye, here’s a box: whom wouldst thou empoison? Here’s a box (giving it), which, opened and the fume ta’en up in conduits thorough which the brain purges itself, (80) doth instantly for twelve hours’ space bind up all show of life in a deep senseless sleep: here’s another (giving it), which, being opened under the sleeper’s nose, chokes all the pores of life, kills him suddenly. 85
Men. I’ll try experiments; ’t is good not to be deceived.—So, so; catso! Seems to poison MALEVOLE [who falls]. Who would fear that may destroy? Death hath no teeth nor tongue; And he that’s great, to him are slaves, 90 Shame, murder, fame, and wrong.— Celso!
Enter Celso.
Celso. My honour’d lord?
Men. The good Malevole, that plain-tongu’d man, Alas, is dead on sudden, wondrous strangely! He held in our esteem good place. Celso, 96 See him buried, see him buried.
Celso. I shall observe ye.
Men. And, Celso, prithee, let it be thy care to-night To have some pretty show, to solemnize 100 Our high instalment; some music, masquery. We’ll give fair entertain unto Maria, The duchess to the banish’d Altofront: Thou shalt conduct her from the citadel Unto the palace. Think on some masquery. 105
Celso. Of what shape, sweet lord?
Men. What[2780] shape! Why, any quick-done fiction; As some brave spirits of the Genoan dukes, To come out of Elysium, forsooth, Led in by Mercury, to gratulate 110 Our happy fortune; some such anything, Some far-fet trick good for ladies, some stale toy Or other, no matter, so ’t be of our devising. Do thou prepare ’t; ’t is but for fashion sake. Fear not, it shall be grac’d, man, it shall take.
Celso. All service. 116
Men. All thanks; our hand shall not be close[2781] to thee; farewell. (Aside.) Now is my treachery secure, nor can we fall: Mischief that prospers, men do virtue call. I’ll trust no man: he that by tricks gets wreaths 120 Keeps them with steel; no man securely breathes Out of deserved ranks; the crowd will mutter, “fool!” Who cannot bear with spite, he cannot rule. The chiefest secret for a man of state Is, to live senseless of a strengthless hate. Exit.
Mal. (starts up and speaks.) Death of the (126) damned thief! I’ll make one i’ the masque; thou shalt ha’ some brave spirits of the antique dukes.
Celso. My lord, what strange delusion? 130
Mal. Most happy, dear Celso, poisoned with an empty box: I’ll give thee all, anon. My lady comes to court; there is a whirl of fate comes tumbling on; the castle’s captain stands for me, the people pray for me, and the (135) great leader of the just stands for me: then courage, Celso; For no disastrous chance can ever move him That leaveth[2782] nothing but a God above him. Exeunt.
[SCENE IV.][2783]
Enter BILIOSO and PREPASSO, two Pages before them; MAQUERELLE, BIANCA, and EMILIA.
Bil. Make room there, room for the ladies! Why, gentlemen, will not ye suffer the ladies to be entered in the great chamber? Why, gallants! and you, sir, to drop your torch where the beauties must sit too? 5
Pre. And there’s a great fellow plays the knave; why dost not strike him?
Bil. Let him play the knave, o’ God’s name; thinkest thou I have no more wit than to strike a great fellow?—The music! more lights! 10 revelling-scaffolds! do you hear? Let there be oaths enow ready at the door, swear out the devil himself. Let’s leave the ladies, and go see if the lords be ready for them.
Exeunt BILIOSO, PREPASSO, and Pages.
Maq. And, by my troth, beauties, why do (15) you not put you into the fashion? This is a stale cut; you must come in fashion: look ye, you must be all felt, felt and feather, a felt upon your bare hair. Look ye, these tiring things[2784] are justly out of request now: and, do ye (20) hear? you must wear falling-bands,[2785] you must come into the falling fashion: there is such a deal o’ pinning these ruffs, when the fine clean fall is worth all: and again, if ye should chance to take a nap in the afternoon, your falling-band 25 requires no poting-stick[2786] to recover his form: believe me, no fashion to the falling, I say.
Bian. And is not Signior St. Andrew a gallant fellow now. 30
Maq. By my maidenhead, la, honour and he agree as well together as a satin suit and woollen stockings.
Emilia. But is not Marshal Make-room, my servant in reversion, a proper gentleman? 35
Maq. Yes, in reversion, as he had his office; as, in truth, he hath all things in reversion: he has his mistress in reversion, his clothes in reversion, his wit in reversion; and, indeed, is a suitor to me for my dog in reversion: but, (40) in good verity, la, he is as proper a gentleman in reversion as—and, indeed, as fine a man as may be, having a red beard and a pair of warpt legs.
Bian. But, i’ faith, I am most monstrously in love with Count Quidlibet-in-quodlibet: (45) is he not a pretty, dapper, unidle[2787] gallant?
Maq. He is even one of the most busy-fingered lords: he will put the beauties to the squeak most hideously.
Re-enter BILIOSO.
Bil. Room! make a lane there! the duke (50) is entering: stand handsomely for beauty’s sake, take up the ladies there! So, cornets, cornets!
Act V, Scene V
Re-enter PREPASSO, joins to BILIOSO; then enter two Pages with lights, FERRARDO, MENDOZA; at the other door, two Pages with lights, and the Captain leading in MARIA; MENDOZA meets MARIA and closeth with her; the rest fall back.
Men. Madam, with gentle ear receive my suit; A kingdom’s safety should o’er-peise[2788] slight rites; Marriage is merely nature’s policy: Then, since unless our royal beds be join’d, Danger and civil tumults fright the state, 5 Be wise as you are fair, give way to fate.
Maria. What wouldst thou, thou affliction to our house? Thou ever-devil, ’t was thou that banished’st My truly noble lord!
Men. I! 10
Maria. Ay, by thy plots, by thy black stratagems. Twelve moons have suffer’d change since I beheld The loved presence of my dearest lord. O thou far worse than Death! he parts but soul From a weak body; but thou soul from soul 15 Dissever’st, that which God’s own hand did knit; Thou scant of honour, full of devilish wit!
Men. We’ll check your too-intemperate lavishness: I can and will.
Maria. What canst? 20
Men. Go to; in banishment thy husband dies.
Maria. He ever is at home that’s ever wise.
Men. You ’st ne’er meet more: reason should love control.
Maria. Not meet! 24 She that dear loves, her love ’s still in her soul.
Men. You are but a woman, lady, you must yield.
Maria. O, save me, thou innated bashfulness, Thou only ornament of woman’s modesty!
Men. Modesty! death, I’ll torment thee. 29
Maria. Do, urge all torments, all afflictions try; I’ll die my lord’s as long as I can die.
Men. Thou obstinate, thou shall die.—Captain, that lady’s life Is forfeited to justice: we have examin’d her, And we do find she hath empoisoned 34 The reverend hermit; therefore we command Severest custody.—Nay, if you’ll do ’s no good, You ’st do ’s no harm: a tyrant’s peace is blood.
Maria. O, thou art merciful; O gracious devil, Rather by much let me condemned be 39 For seeming murder than be damn’d for thee! I’ll mourn no more; come, girt my brows with flowers: Revel and dance, soul, now thy wish thou hast; Die like a bride, poor heart, thou shalt die chaste.
Enter AURELIA in mourning habit.
Aur. “Life is a frost of cold felicity,[2789] And death the thaw of all our vanity:”[2790] 45 Was’t not an honest priest that wrote so?
Men. Who let her in?
Bil. Forbear!
Pre. Forbear!
Aur. Alas, calamity is everywhere: 50 Sad misery, despite your double doors, Will enter even in court.
Bil. Peace!
Aur. I ha’ done.
Bil.[2791] One word,—take heed! 55
Aur. I ha’ done.
Enter MERCURY with loud music.
Mer. Cyllenian Mercury, the god of ghosts, From gloomy shades that spread the lower coasts,[2792] Calls four high-famed Genoan dukes to come, And make this presence their Elysium, 60 To pass away this high triumphal night With song and dances, court’s more soft delight.
Aur. Are you god of ghosts? I have a suit pending in hell betwixt me and my conscience; would fain have thee help me to an advocate.
Bil. Mercury shall be your lawyer, lady. 66
Aur. Nay, faith. Mercury has too good a face to be a right lawyer.
Pre. Peace, forbear! Mercury presents the masque.
Cornets: the song to the cornets, which playing, the masque enters; MALEVOLE, PIETRO, FERNEZE, and CELSO, in white robes, with duke’s crowns upon laurel wreaths, pistolets and short swords under their robes.
Men. Celso, Celso, court Maria for our love.— Lady, be gracious, yet grace. 71
Maria. With me, sir? MALEVOLE takes MARIA to dance.
Mal. Yes, more loved than my breath; With you I’ll dance.
Maria. Why, then, you dance with death. But, come, sir, I was ne’er more apt for mirth. Death gives eternity a glorious breath: 75 O, to die honour’d, who would fear to die?
Mal. They die in fear who live in villainy.
Men. Yes, believe him, lady, and be rul’d by him.
Pietro. Madam, with me. PIETRO takes AURELIA to dance.
Aur. Wouldst, then, be miserable? 80
Pietro. I need not wish.
Aur. O, yet forbear my hand! away! fly! fly! O, seek not her that only seeks to die!
Pietro. Poor loved soul!
Aur. What, wouldst court misery? 85
Pietro. Yes.
Aur. She’ll come too soon:—O my grieved heart!
Pietro. Lady, ha’ done, ha’ done: Come, let us dance: be once from sorrow free.
Aur. Art a sad man? 90
Pietro. Yes, sweet.
Aur. Then we’ll agree.
FERNEZE takes MAQUERELLE and CELSO, BIANCA: then the cornets sound the measure, one change and rest.
Fer. (to BIANCA.) Believe it, lady; shall I swear? Let me enjoy you in private, and I’ll marry you, by my soul. 95
Bian. I had rather you would swear by your body: I think that would prove the more regarded oath with you.
Fer. I’ll swear by them both, to please you.
Bian. O, damn them not both to please (100) me, for God’s sake!
Fer. Faith, sweet creature, let me enjoy you to-night, and I’ll marry you to-morrow fortnight, by my troth, la.
Maq. On his troth, la! believe him not; (105) that kind of cony-catching[2793] is as stale as Sir Oliver Anchovy’s perfumed jerkin: promise of matrimony by a young gallant, to bring a virgin lady into a fool’s paradise; make her a great woman, and then cast her off;—’t is as common (110) [and][2794] natural to a courtier, as jealousy to a citizen, gluttony to a puritan, wisdom to an alderman, pride to a tailor, or an empty hand-basket to one of these six-penny damnations: of his troth, la! believe him not; traps to (115) catch pole-cats.
Mal. (to MARIA.) Keep your face constant, let no sudden passion Speak in your eyes.
Maria. O my Altofront!
Pietro. (to AURELIA.) A tyrant’s jealousies Are very nimble: you receive it all? 121
Aur. My heart, though not my knees, doth humbly fall Low as the earth, to thee.
[Mal.][2795] Peace! next change; no words.
Maria. Speech to such, ay, O, what will affords! 125 Cornets sound the measure over again; which danced, they unmask.
Men. Malevole! They environ MENDOZA, bending their pistols on him.
Mal. No.
Men. Altofront! Duke Pietro! Ferneze! ha!
All. Duke Altofront! Duke Altofront! Cornets, a flourish.—They seize upon MENDOZA.
Men. Are we surpris’d? What strange delusions mock 130 Our senses? Do I dream? or have I dreamt This two days’ space? Where am I?
Mal. Where an arch-villain is.
Men. O, lend me breath till I am fit to die! For peace with heaven, for your own souls’ sake, Vouchsafe me life! 136
Pietro. Ignoble villain! whom neither heaven nor hell, Goodness of God or man, could once make good!
Mal. Base, treacherous wretch! what grace canst thou expect, That hast grown impudent in gracelessness? 140
Men. O, life!
Mal. Slave, take thy life. Wert thou defenced, th(o)rough blood and wounds, The sternest horror of a civil fight, 144 Would I achieve thee; but prostrate at my feet, I scorn to hurt thee: ’t is the heart of slaves That deigns to triumph over peasants’ graves; For such thou art, since birth doth ne’er enroll A man ’mong monarchs, but a glorious soul. [[2796] O, I have seen strange accidents of state! 150 The flatterer, like the ivy, clip the oak, And waste it to the heart; lust so confirm’d, That the black act of sin itself not sham’d To be term’d courtship. O, they that are as great as be their sins, 155 Let them remember that th’ inconstant people Love many princes merely for their faces And outward shows; and they do covet more To have a sight of these than of their virtues. Yet thus much let the great ones still conceive,[2797] When they observe not heaven’s impos’d conditions, 161 They are no kings, but forfeit their commissions.
Maq. O good my lord. I have lived in the court this twenty year: they that have been old courtiers, and come to live in the city, they (165) are spited at, and thrust to the walls like apricocks, good my lord.
Bil. My lord, I did know your lordship in this disguise; you heard me ever say, if Altofront did return, I would stand for him: 170 besides, ’t was your lordship’s pleasure to call me wittol and cuckold: you must not think, but that I knew you, I would have put it up so patiently.]
Mal. You o’er-joy’d spirits, wipe your long-wet eyes. To PIETRO and AURELIA. Hence with this man (kicks out MENDOZA): an eagle takes not flies. 176 You to your vows (to PIETRO and AURELIA): and thou into the suburbs.[2798] To MAQUERELLE. You to my worst friend I would hardly give; Thou art a perfect old knave (to BILIOSO): all-pleas’d live You two unto my breast (to CELSO and the Captain): thou to my heart. (To MARIA.) The rest of idle actors idly part: 181 And as for me, I here assume my right. To which I hope all’s pleas’d: to all, goodnight. Cornets, a flourish. Exeunt omnes.
AN IMPERFECT ODE, BEING BUT ONE STAFF
SPOKEN BY THE PROLOGUE.
To wrest each hurtless thought to private sense Is the foul use of ill-bred impudence: Immodest censure now grows wild, All over-running. Let innocence be ne’er so chaste, 5 Yet to the last She is defil’d With too nice-brained cunning. O you of fairer soul, Control 10 With an Herculean arm This harm; And once teach all old freedom of a pen, Which still must write of fools, whiles ’t writes of men!
EPILOGUS
Your modest silence, full of heedy stillness, Makes me thus speak: a voluntary illness Is merely[2799] senseless; but unwilling error, Such as proceeds from too rash youthful fervour, May well be call’d a fault, but not a sin: 5 Rivers take names from founts where they begin. Then let not too severe an eye peruse The slighter brakes[2800] of our reformed Muse, Who could herself herself of faults detect, But that she knows ’t is easy to correct, 10 Though some men’s labour: troth, to err is fit, As long as wisdom’s not profess’d, but wit. Then till another’s[2801] happier Muse appears, Till his Thalia feast your learned ears, To whose desertful lamps pleased Fates impart Art above nature, judgment above art, 16 Receive this piece, which hope nor fear yet daunteth: He that knows most knows most how much he wanteth.
A WOMAN KILLED WITH KINDNESS
BY THOMAS HEYWOOD
[DRAMATIS PERSONAE
SIR FRANCIS ACTON, Brother to Mistress Frankford. SIR CHARLES MOUNTFORD. MASTER JOHN FRANKFORD. MASTER MALBY, friend to Sir Francis. MASTER WENDOLL, friend to Frankford. MASTER CRANWELL. MASTER SHAFTON, false friend to Sir Charles. OLD MOUNTFORD, Uncle to Sir Charles. MASTER SANDY. MASTER RODER. MASTER TIDY, Cousin to Sir Charles. NICHOLAS, ROGER BRICKBAT, } Household Servants to JENKIN, JACK SLIME, } Frankford. SPIGOT, Butler, } Sheriff. Keeper of Prison. Sheriff’s Officers, Serjeant, Huntsmen, Falconers, Coachmen, Carters, Servants, Musicians.
MISTRESS ANNE FRANKFORD. SUSAN, Sister to Sir Charles Mountford. CICELY, Maid to Mistress Frankford. Women Servants in Master Frankford’s household.]