ACT I.[120]

EnterLorenzoandPhilippo.

Lor.Thou shalt try her once more.Phil.Fie, fie!Lor.Thou shalt do't.If thou be'st my friend, thou'lt do't.Phil.Try your fair wife?You know 'tis an old point, and wondrous frequentIn most of our Italian comedies.Lor.What do I care for that? let him seek new ones,Cannot make old ones better; and this new point(Young sir) may produce new smooth passages,Transcending those precedent. Pray, will ye do't?Phil.Pray, fool yourself no farther: twice you have sway'd me;Twice have I tried her; and 'tis not yet, ye know,Ten days since our reconciliation.How will it show in you, so near a kinsmanTo the duke? nay, having woven yourself intoThe close-wrought mystery of opinion,Where you remain a soldier, a manOf brain and quality, to put your friendAgain on such a business, and to exposeYour fair wife to the tempest of temptation?And, by the white, unspotted cheek of truth,She is——Lor.A woman.Phil.A good woman.Lor.Pish!Phil.As far from your distrust, as bad ones are from truth.She is in love with virtue: would not boast it,But that her whole life is a well-writ story.Where each word stands so well-plac'd, that it passesInquisitive detraction to correct.She's modest, but not sullen, and loves silence;Not that she wants apt words, for, when she speaks,She inflames love with wonder; but becauseShe calls wise silence the soul's harmony.She's truly chaste; yet such a foe to coyness,The poorest call her courteous; and which is excellent,Though fair and young, she shuns t' expose herselfTo the opinion of strange eyes. She either seldomOr never walks abroad but in your company;And then with such sweet bashfulness, as ifShe were venturing on crack'd ice; and takes delightTo step into the print your foot hath made,And will follow you whole fields: so she will driveTediousness out of time with her sweet character.And therefore, good my friend, forbear to tryThe gold has pass'd the fire.Lor.Thou foolish friend,Beauty, like the herb larix, is cool i' th' water,But hot i' th' stomach. Women are smooth flatterers,But cunning injurers.Phil.Thou wondrous yellow friend.Temper an antidote with antimony,And 'tis infectious: mix jealousy with marriage,It poisons virtue: let the child feel the sting,He'll fly the honeycomb. Has she one actionThat can expose you to distrust?Lor.O, when the Alexanders-leaf looks most green,The sap is then most bitter. An approv'd appearanceIs no authentic instance: she that is lip-holyIs many times heart-hollow. Here she comes,

Lor.Thou shalt try her once more.

Phil.Fie, fie!

Lor.Thou shalt do't.If thou be'st my friend, thou'lt do't.

Phil.Try your fair wife?You know 'tis an old point, and wondrous frequentIn most of our Italian comedies.

Lor.What do I care for that? let him seek new ones,Cannot make old ones better; and this new point(Young sir) may produce new smooth passages,Transcending those precedent. Pray, will ye do't?

Phil.Pray, fool yourself no farther: twice you have sway'd me;Twice have I tried her; and 'tis not yet, ye know,Ten days since our reconciliation.How will it show in you, so near a kinsmanTo the duke? nay, having woven yourself intoThe close-wrought mystery of opinion,Where you remain a soldier, a manOf brain and quality, to put your friendAgain on such a business, and to exposeYour fair wife to the tempest of temptation?And, by the white, unspotted cheek of truth,She is——

Lor.A woman.

Phil.A good woman.

Lor.Pish!

Phil.As far from your distrust, as bad ones are from truth.She is in love with virtue: would not boast it,But that her whole life is a well-writ story.Where each word stands so well-plac'd, that it passesInquisitive detraction to correct.She's modest, but not sullen, and loves silence;Not that she wants apt words, for, when she speaks,She inflames love with wonder; but becauseShe calls wise silence the soul's harmony.She's truly chaste; yet such a foe to coyness,The poorest call her courteous; and which is excellent,Though fair and young, she shuns t' expose herselfTo the opinion of strange eyes. She either seldomOr never walks abroad but in your company;And then with such sweet bashfulness, as ifShe were venturing on crack'd ice; and takes delightTo step into the print your foot hath made,And will follow you whole fields: so she will driveTediousness out of time with her sweet character.And therefore, good my friend, forbear to tryThe gold has pass'd the fire.

Lor.Thou foolish friend,Beauty, like the herb larix, is cool i' th' water,But hot i' th' stomach. Women are smooth flatterers,But cunning injurers.

Phil.Thou wondrous yellow friend.Temper an antidote with antimony,And 'tis infectious: mix jealousy with marriage,It poisons virtue: let the child feel the sting,He'll fly the honeycomb. Has she one actionThat can expose you to distrust?

Lor.O, when the Alexanders-leaf looks most green,The sap is then most bitter. An approv'd appearanceIs no authentic instance: she that is lip-holyIs many times heart-hollow. Here she comes,

EnterAbstemia.

A prayer-book in her hand! O hypocrisy!How fell'st thou first in love with woman? wilt try again,But this one time?Phil.Condition'd you will standEar-witness to our conference; that you may takeIn at your ear a virtue that will teachYour erring soul to wonder.Lor.He would wittol meWith a consent to my own horns. I will.I'll give thee a new occasion: there lurksIn woman's blood a vindicating spirit.Abs.I came, sir, to give you notice,Count Lodovico, Stroimo, Spinoso, and Pandulpho,With the rest of the consilliadory, certifyThey are setting forth to meet the duke your kinsman,Returning from Venice.Lor.O, there he has seen the duke your brother.Abs.Yes, sir, and they stay but for your company.Lor.And you're cloy'd with't——

A prayer-book in her hand! O hypocrisy!How fell'st thou first in love with woman? wilt try again,But this one time?

Phil.Condition'd you will standEar-witness to our conference; that you may takeIn at your ear a virtue that will teachYour erring soul to wonder.

Lor.He would wittol meWith a consent to my own horns. I will.I'll give thee a new occasion: there lurksIn woman's blood a vindicating spirit.

Abs.I came, sir, to give you notice,Count Lodovico, Stroimo, Spinoso, and Pandulpho,With the rest of the consilliadory, certifyThey are setting forth to meet the duke your kinsman,Returning from Venice.

Lor.O, there he has seen the duke your brother.

Abs.Yes, sir, and they stay but for your company.

Lor.And you're cloy'd with't——

[Kicks her, and retires to conceal himself. She weeps.

Phil.And will you still be us'd thus? O madam,I do confess twice I have batter'd atThe fort I fain would vanquish, and I knowYe hold out more, 'cause you would seem a soldier,Than in hate to the assailant. I am againInflam'd with those sweet fountains, from whence flowSuch a pair of streams. O strong force of desire!The quality should quench hath set on fire:I love you in your sorrows.Abs.And I sorrowIn nothing but your love. Twice, Philippo,Have I not beat back the impetuous stormOf thy incessant rudeness? Wilt thou againDarken fair honour with dishonesty?Thou know'st my lord hath long and truly lov'd theeIn the wisdom of a friend; in a fair cause:He wears his good sword for thee, lays his heartA lodger in thy bosom, proclaims thee partnerIn all he hath but me: O, be not counterfeit!We all conclude, a diamond with cloudsThe goldsmith casts into his dust: and a gentlemanSo blemish'd in his honour, blots his nameOut of the herald's book, stands a lost manIn goodness and opinion. O Philippo,Make me once more so happy to believe'Tis but a painted passion.Lor.Most acute witch![121]Phil.Come, learn of your city wagtail: with one eyeViolently love your husband, and with t'otherWink at your friend.Lor.I will not trust you, brother.Phil.He seeks: will ye not have him find? cries ye outIn his mad fits a strumpet; rails at all women,Upon no cause, but because you are one:He gives wound upon wound, and then pours vinegarInto your bleeding reputation,Poison'd with bitter calumny. Pox on him!Pile a reciprocal reward upon him:Let ballad-mongers crown him with their scorns:Who buys the buck's-head well deserves the horns.Demur not on't, but clap them on.Abs.You are, sir,Just like the Indian hyssop, prais'd of strangersFor the sweet scent, but hated of the inhabitantsFor the injurious quality. Can he love the wife,That would betray the husband? Hast thou not seen meBear all his injuries, as the ocean suffersThe angry bark to plough thorough her bosom,And yet is presently so smooth, the eyeCannot perceive where the wide wound was made?And cannot this inform, I love him betterIn his sour follies, than you in your sweet flatteries?If Verona hath observ'd any errors in me,I well may call for grace to amend them,But will never fall from grace to befriend you.Phil.With what a majesty good women thunder!Lor.H' has given her some close nod that I am here.Abs.Rip up the end of thy intent, and see,How shame and fear do lurk where you would walk,Like a pair of serpents in a flow'ry mead.Lust sees with pleasure, but with fear doth tread.Phil.Very brave, woman!Abs.What is the pleasure thou pursu'st? A sinFinish'd with infinite sorrows. Read, and find,How barb'rous nations punish it with death:How a minute's sin so stolen, though in the faceSit summer calms all smooth, yet thou wilt hear,From the eternal 'larum[122]of thy conscience,How it sets within thy soul continual tempests,Thunder and dismal blackness! Mark but the courseOf the holy-seeming hollow man, and seeHow he that glories heaven with no honour,Covets to glorify himself with honesty.And, to put you past your hopes, let me leave this with you:—Thou may'st hold an elephant with a thread, eat fireAnd not be burnt, or catch birds with desire,Quench flame with oil, cut diamonds with glass,Pierce steel with feathers: this thou may'st bring to passSooner than hope to steal the husband's right,Whose wife is honest, and no hypocrite.[123][Exit.Phil.What think you now, sir?Lor.[Coming forward.] Why now I do think it possible for the worldTo have an honest woman in it. Goodbye, sir;I must go meet the duke. Adieu.Phil.Farewell.O jealousy! how near thou dwell'st to hell![Exeunt.

Abs.And I sorrowIn nothing but your love. Twice, Philippo,Have I not beat back the impetuous stormOf thy incessant rudeness? Wilt thou againDarken fair honour with dishonesty?Thou know'st my lord hath long and truly lov'd theeIn the wisdom of a friend; in a fair cause:He wears his good sword for thee, lays his heartA lodger in thy bosom, proclaims thee partnerIn all he hath but me: O, be not counterfeit!We all conclude, a diamond with cloudsThe goldsmith casts into his dust: and a gentlemanSo blemish'd in his honour, blots his nameOut of the herald's book, stands a lost manIn goodness and opinion. O Philippo,Make me once more so happy to believe'Tis but a painted passion.

Lor.Most acute witch![121]

Phil.Come, learn of your city wagtail: with one eyeViolently love your husband, and with t'otherWink at your friend.

Lor.I will not trust you, brother.

Phil.He seeks: will ye not have him find? cries ye outIn his mad fits a strumpet; rails at all women,Upon no cause, but because you are one:He gives wound upon wound, and then pours vinegarInto your bleeding reputation,Poison'd with bitter calumny. Pox on him!Pile a reciprocal reward upon him:Let ballad-mongers crown him with their scorns:Who buys the buck's-head well deserves the horns.Demur not on't, but clap them on.

Abs.You are, sir,Just like the Indian hyssop, prais'd of strangersFor the sweet scent, but hated of the inhabitantsFor the injurious quality. Can he love the wife,That would betray the husband? Hast thou not seen meBear all his injuries, as the ocean suffersThe angry bark to plough thorough her bosom,And yet is presently so smooth, the eyeCannot perceive where the wide wound was made?And cannot this inform, I love him betterIn his sour follies, than you in your sweet flatteries?If Verona hath observ'd any errors in me,I well may call for grace to amend them,But will never fall from grace to befriend you.

Phil.With what a majesty good women thunder!

Lor.H' has given her some close nod that I am here.

Abs.Rip up the end of thy intent, and see,How shame and fear do lurk where you would walk,Like a pair of serpents in a flow'ry mead.Lust sees with pleasure, but with fear doth tread.

Phil.Very brave, woman!

Abs.What is the pleasure thou pursu'st? A sinFinish'd with infinite sorrows. Read, and find,How barb'rous nations punish it with death:How a minute's sin so stolen, though in the faceSit summer calms all smooth, yet thou wilt hear,From the eternal 'larum[122]of thy conscience,How it sets within thy soul continual tempests,Thunder and dismal blackness! Mark but the courseOf the holy-seeming hollow man, and seeHow he that glories heaven with no honour,Covets to glorify himself with honesty.And, to put you past your hopes, let me leave this with you:—Thou may'st hold an elephant with a thread, eat fireAnd not be burnt, or catch birds with desire,Quench flame with oil, cut diamonds with glass,Pierce steel with feathers: this thou may'st bring to passSooner than hope to steal the husband's right,Whose wife is honest, and no hypocrite.[123][Exit.

Phil.What think you now, sir?

Lor.[Coming forward.] Why now I do think it possible for the worldTo have an honest woman in it. Goodbye, sir;I must go meet the duke. Adieu.

Phil.Farewell.O jealousy! how near thou dwell'st to hell![Exeunt.

EnterLodovico,Pandulpho,Spinoso,Jaspro,Jovani,andClown.

Lod.The duke not seven leagues off? my horse, rogues!Pan.Our negligence deserves just blame; and how'Twill please his grace to construe it, we know not.Jas.But where's your fair chaste wife, my lord?

Lod.The duke not seven leagues off? my horse, rogues!

Pan.Our negligence deserves just blame; and how'Twill please his grace to construe it, we know not.

Jas.But where's your fair chaste wife, my lord?

Lod.Marry, with my man Francisco. O that fellow! She were undone without him; for indeed she takes great pleasure in him: he learnsher music. To hear what counsel she will give him! if he but screw his look sometimes with the pin, she will tell him straight 'twas an unchristian look. I love him dearly.Spin.But can your honour never woo your lady to a more sociable affability? She will not kiss, nor drink, nor talk, but against new fashions.Lod.O sir, she is my crown: nor is it requisite women should be so sociable. I have had such a coil with her, to bring her but to look out at window! When we were first married, she would not drink a cup of wine, unless nine parts of it were water.Omnes.Admired temperance!Lod.Nay, and ye knew all, my lords, ye would say so. T'other day I brought an English gentleman home with me, to try a horse I should sell him: he (as ye know their custom, though it be none of ours) makes at her lips the first dash.Clown.He dashed her out of countenance, I'm sure of that.Lod.She did so pout and spit, that my hot-brained gallant could not forbear but ask the cause. Quoth she——Clown.No, sir, she spit again beforequoth sheleft her lips.Lod.I think she did indeed: but then, quoth she, A kiss, sir, is sin's earnest-penny. Is't not true, Pambo?Clown.Very true, sir. By the same token, quoth he to her again, if you dislike the penny, lady, pray let me change it into English halfpence, and so gave her two for't.Lod.But how she vexed then! Then she rattled him, and told him roundly, though confidence made cuckolds in England, she could no coxcombs in Italy.Clown.But did ye mark how bitterly he closed it with a middling jest?Lod.What was that, I prythee?Clown.Why, quoth he again, Confidence makes not so many cuckolds in England, but craft picks open more padlocks in Italy.Jov.That was something sharp. But there she comes.

Spin.But can your honour never woo your lady to a more sociable affability? She will not kiss, nor drink, nor talk, but against new fashions.

Lod.O sir, she is my crown: nor is it requisite women should be so sociable. I have had such a coil with her, to bring her but to look out at window! When we were first married, she would not drink a cup of wine, unless nine parts of it were water.

Omnes.Admired temperance!

Lod.Nay, and ye knew all, my lords, ye would say so. T'other day I brought an English gentleman home with me, to try a horse I should sell him: he (as ye know their custom, though it be none of ours) makes at her lips the first dash.

Clown.He dashed her out of countenance, I'm sure of that.

Lod.She did so pout and spit, that my hot-brained gallant could not forbear but ask the cause. Quoth she——

Clown.No, sir, she spit again beforequoth sheleft her lips.

Lod.I think she did indeed: but then, quoth she, A kiss, sir, is sin's earnest-penny. Is't not true, Pambo?

Clown.Very true, sir. By the same token, quoth he to her again, if you dislike the penny, lady, pray let me change it into English halfpence, and so gave her two for't.

Lod.But how she vexed then! Then she rattled him, and told him roundly, though confidence made cuckolds in England, she could no coxcombs in Italy.

Clown.But did ye mark how bitterly he closed it with a middling jest?

Lod.What was that, I prythee?

Clown.Why, quoth he again, Confidence makes not so many cuckolds in England, but craft picks open more padlocks in Italy.

Jov.That was something sharp. But there she comes.

EnterDorotheaandFrancisco.

Lod.Ye shall see how I'll put ye all upon her presently.Clown.Then I shall take my turn.Dor.Francis.Fran.Madam.Dor.Have you changed the ditty you last set?Fran.I have, madam.Dor.The conceit may stand; but I hope you have clothed the method in a more Christian-like apparel.Fran.I have, lady.Dor.Pray, let me hear it now.

Lod.Ye shall see how I'll put ye all upon her presently.

Clown.Then I shall take my turn.

Dor.Francis.

Fran.Madam.

Dor.Have you changed the ditty you last set?

Fran.I have, madam.

Dor.The conceit may stand; but I hope you have clothed the method in a more Christian-like apparel.

Fran.I have, lady.

Dor.Pray, let me hear it now.

Fran.She that in these days looks for truth,Seldom or never finds in sooth.Dor.That's wondrous well.Clown.Yes, in sadness.Lod.Peace, sirrah! nay, she's built of modesty.Fran.Even as a wicked kiss defiles the lips,So do new fashions her that through them trips.Dor.Very modest language.Fran.She that doth pleasure use for what 'twill bring her,Will pluck a rose, although she prick her finger.

Fran.She that in these days looks for truth,Seldom or never finds in sooth.

Dor.That's wondrous well.

Clown.Yes, in sadness.

Lod.Peace, sirrah! nay, she's built of modesty.

Fran.Even as a wicked kiss defiles the lips,So do new fashions her that through them trips.

Dor.Very modest language.

Fran.She that doth pleasure use for what 'twill bring her,Will pluck a rose, although she prick her finger.

Dor.Put inhurt her finger, good Francis: the phrase will be more decent.Pan.Y' are a wondrous happy man in one so virtuous!Lod.Nay, ye shall have no Count Lorenzo of me, I warrant ye.Clown.Nor no Count Lorenzo's lady of your wife, I warrant ye.Lod.Sweet chick, I come to take leave of thee: finger in eye already? We are all to meet the duke this afternoon, bird, who is now come from Venice. Thou may'st walk and see the Count Lorenzo's lady.Dor.Alas! she's too merry for my company.

Dor.Put inhurt her finger, good Francis: the phrase will be more decent.

Pan.Y' are a wondrous happy man in one so virtuous!

Lod.Nay, ye shall have no Count Lorenzo of me, I warrant ye.

Clown.Nor no Count Lorenzo's lady of your wife, I warrant ye.

Lod.Sweet chick, I come to take leave of thee: finger in eye already? We are all to meet the duke this afternoon, bird, who is now come from Venice. Thou may'st walk and see the Count Lorenzo's lady.

Dor.Alas! she's too merry for my company.

Jas.Too merry! I have seen her sad,But very seldom merry.Dor.I mean, my lord,That she can walk, tell tales, run in the garden.

Jas.Too merry! I have seen her sad,But very seldom merry.

Dor.I mean, my lord,That she can walk, tell tales, run in the garden.

Clown.Why, then your ladyship may hold your tongue, say nothing, and walk in the orchard.Dor.She can drink a cup of wine not delayed[124]with water.Clown.Why, then you may drink a cup of water without wine.

Clown.Why, then your ladyship may hold your tongue, say nothing, and walk in the orchard.

Dor.She can drink a cup of wine not delayed[124]with water.

Clown.Why, then you may drink a cup of water without wine.

Dor.Nay, if a nobleman come to see her lord,She will let him kiss her too against our custom.

Pan.Why, a modest woman may be kissed by accident, yet not give the least touch to her reputation.Lod.Well said: touch her home.Dor.Nay, but they may not: she that will kiss, they say,[125]will do worse, I warrant her.Jov.Why, I have seen you, madam, kissed against your will.Dor.Against my will, it may be, I have been kissed indeed.Clown.Pshaw, there's nothing against a woman's will; and I dare be sworn, if my lady kiss but any one man, 'tis because she cannot do with all.Lod.Nay, I know that to be true, my lords: and at this time, because you cannot do with all, pray kiss them in order; kiss her all over, gentlemen, and we are gone.Dor.Nay, good my lord, 'tis against our nation's custom.

Pan.Why, a modest woman may be kissed by accident, yet not give the least touch to her reputation.

Lod.Well said: touch her home.

Dor.Nay, but they may not: she that will kiss, they say,[125]will do worse, I warrant her.

Jov.Why, I have seen you, madam, kissed against your will.

Dor.Against my will, it may be, I have been kissed indeed.

Clown.Pshaw, there's nothing against a woman's will; and I dare be sworn, if my lady kiss but any one man, 'tis because she cannot do with all.

Lod.Nay, I know that to be true, my lords: and at this time, because you cannot do with all, pray kiss them in order; kiss her all over, gentlemen, and we are gone.

Dor.Nay, good my lord, 'tis against our nation's custom.

Lod.I care not; let naturals love nations:My humour's my humour.

Spin.I must have my turn too, then.Jov.It must go round.Dor.Fie, fie!Lod.Look how she spits now!Jas.The deeper the sweeter, lady.Clown.The nearer the bone, the sweeter the flesh, lady.Dor.How now, sauce-box!Clown.Did not my lord bid the gentlemen kiss you all over?Lod.I have sweet cause to be jealous, have I not, gentlemen? no.Crede quod habes, et habesstill. He that believes he has horns, has them. Will you go bring my horse, sir?Clown.I will bring your horse, sir, and your horse shall bring his tail with him.[Exit.Lod.Francis, I prythee, stay thou at home with thy lady. Get thy instrument ready; this melancholy will spoil her: before these lords here make her but laugh, when we are gone——Fran.Laugh before these lords when they are gone, sir!Lod.Pish! I mean, make her laugh heartily before we come home, and, before these lords, I promise thee a lease of forty crowns per annum.Fran.Can ye tell whether she be ticklish, sir?Lod.O, infinitely ticklish!Fran.I'll deserve your lease, then, ere you come home, I warrant.Lod.And thou shalt ha't, i' faith, boy.

Spin.I must have my turn too, then.

Jov.It must go round.

Dor.Fie, fie!

Lod.Look how she spits now!

Jas.The deeper the sweeter, lady.

Clown.The nearer the bone, the sweeter the flesh, lady.

Dor.How now, sauce-box!

Clown.Did not my lord bid the gentlemen kiss you all over?

Lod.I have sweet cause to be jealous, have I not, gentlemen? no.Crede quod habes, et habesstill. He that believes he has horns, has them. Will you go bring my horse, sir?

Clown.I will bring your horse, sir, and your horse shall bring his tail with him.[Exit.

Lod.Francis, I prythee, stay thou at home with thy lady. Get thy instrument ready; this melancholy will spoil her: before these lords here make her but laugh, when we are gone——

Fran.Laugh before these lords when they are gone, sir!

Lod.Pish! I mean, make her laugh heartily before we come home, and, before these lords, I promise thee a lease of forty crowns per annum.

Fran.Can ye tell whether she be ticklish, sir?

Lod.O, infinitely ticklish!

Fran.I'll deserve your lease, then, ere you come home, I warrant.

Lod.And thou shalt ha't, i' faith, boy.

EnterClown.

Clown.Your horse is ready, sir.Lod.My lords, I think we have stayed with the longest. Farewell, Doll.Crede quod habes, et habes, gallants.Pan.Our horses shall fetch it up again. Farewell, sweet lady.

Clown.Your horse is ready, sir.

Lod.My lords, I think we have stayed with the longest. Farewell, Doll.Crede quod habes, et habes, gallants.

Pan.Our horses shall fetch it up again. Farewell, sweet lady.

Jas.Adieu, sweet mistress: and whensoe'er I marry,Fortune turn up to me no worse card than you are!

Clown.And whensoe'er I marry, Venus send me a card may save Fortune the labour, and turn up herself.[Exeunt.Dor.How now? why loiter you behind? why ride you not along with your lord?Fran.To lie with your ladyship.Dor.How?Fran.In the bed, upon the bed, or under the bed.Dor.Why, how now, Francis!Fran.This is the plain truth on't, I would lie with ye.Dor.Why, Francis——Fran.I know too, that you will lie with me.Dor.Nay, but, Francis——

Clown.And whensoe'er I marry, Venus send me a card may save Fortune the labour, and turn up herself.[Exeunt.

Dor.How now? why loiter you behind? why ride you not along with your lord?

Fran.To lie with your ladyship.

Dor.How?

Fran.In the bed, upon the bed, or under the bed.

Dor.Why, how now, Francis!

Fran.This is the plain truth on't, I would lie with ye.

Dor.Why, Francis——

Fran.I know too, that you will lie with me.

Dor.Nay, but, Francis——

Fran.Plague of Francis! I am neither Frank nor Francis,But a gentleman of Milan, that even thereHeard of your beauty, which report there guardedWith such a chastity, the glittering'st sinHeld no artillery of power to shake it.Upon which I resolv'd to try conclusions;Assum'd this name and fortune, sought this service:And I will tell ye truly what I guess you.

Dor.You will not ravish me, Francis?Fran.No; but unravel ye in two lines experience writ lately—

Dor.You will not ravish me, Francis?

Fran.No; but unravel ye in two lines experience writ lately—

Extremes in virtue are but clouds to vice;She'll do i' th' dark who is i' th' day too nice.

Dor.Indeed ye do not well to belie me thus.Fran.Come, I'll lie with thee, wench, and make all well again. Though your confident lord makes use ofCrede quod habes, et habes, and holds it impossible for any to be a cuckold, [and] can believe himself none, I would have his lady have more wit, and clap them on.Dor.And truly, Francis, some women now would do't.Fran.Who can you choose more convenient to practise with than me, whom he doats on? where shall a man find a friend but at home? so you break one proverb's pate, and give the other a plaster. Is't a match, wench?Dor.Well, for once it is: but, and ye do any more, indeed I'll tell my husband.Fran.But when shall this once be? now?

Dor.Indeed ye do not well to belie me thus.

Fran.Come, I'll lie with thee, wench, and make all well again. Though your confident lord makes use ofCrede quod habes, et habes, and holds it impossible for any to be a cuckold, [and] can believe himself none, I would have his lady have more wit, and clap them on.

Dor.And truly, Francis, some women now would do't.

Fran.Who can you choose more convenient to practise with than me, whom he doats on? where shall a man find a friend but at home? so you break one proverb's pate, and give the other a plaster. Is't a match, wench?

Dor.Well, for once it is: but, and ye do any more, indeed I'll tell my husband.

Fran.But when shall this once be? now?

Dor.Now? no indeed, Francis.It shall be soon at night, when your lord's come home.

Fran.Then! how is it possible?Dor.Possible! women can make any of these things possible, Francis: now many casualties may cross us; but soon at night my lord, I'm sure, will be so sleepy, what with his journey and deep healths for the duke's return, that before he goesto bed (as he uses still when he has been hard a-drinking) he will sleep upon the bed in's clothes so sound, bells, would not wake him, rung in the chamber.Fran.The cuckold slumbers; and though his wife hit him o' th' forehead with her heel, he dreams of no such matter.Dor.Now Pambo, that makes him merry in his chamber, shall, when the candle's out and he asleep, bring you into the chamber.Fran.But will he be secret?Dor.Will he, good soul! I am not to try him now.

Fran.Then! how is it possible?

Dor.Possible! women can make any of these things possible, Francis: now many casualties may cross us; but soon at night my lord, I'm sure, will be so sleepy, what with his journey and deep healths for the duke's return, that before he goesto bed (as he uses still when he has been hard a-drinking) he will sleep upon the bed in's clothes so sound, bells, would not wake him, rung in the chamber.

Fran.The cuckold slumbers; and though his wife hit him o' th' forehead with her heel, he dreams of no such matter.

Dor.Now Pambo, that makes him merry in his chamber, shall, when the candle's out and he asleep, bring you into the chamber.

Fran.But will he be secret?

Dor.Will he, good soul! I am not to try him now.

Fran.'Sfoot, this is brave,My kind lord's fool is my cunning lady's knave.But, pray, how then?

Dor.When you are in at door on right before you, you shall feel the bed; give me but softly a touch, I'll rise, and follow you into the next chamber: but truly, and you do not use me kindly, I shall cry out and spoil all.Fran.Use you kindly! was lady e'er used cruelly i' th' dark? Do you but prepare Pambo and your maid: let me alone with her mistress. About eleven I desire to be expected.Dor.And till the clock strike twelve, I'll lie awake.Fran.Now ye dare kiss?Dor.Once with my friend, or so; yet you may take two, Francis.Fran.My cast is ames-ace then.Dor.Deuce-ace had got the game.Fran.Why, then, you're welcome. Adieu, my dainty mistress.Dor.Farewell, kind Francis.[Exeunt.

Fran.Use you kindly! was lady e'er used cruelly i' th' dark? Do you but prepare Pambo and your maid: let me alone with her mistress. About eleven I desire to be expected.

Dor.And till the clock strike twelve, I'll lie awake.

Fran.Now ye dare kiss?

Dor.Once with my friend, or so; yet you may take two, Francis.

Fran.My cast is ames-ace then.

Dor.Deuce-ace had got the game.

Fran.Why, then, you're welcome. Adieu, my dainty mistress.

Dor.Farewell, kind Francis.[Exeunt.

EnterLorenzo, as from horse.

Lor.I have given them all the slip, the duke and all,And am at home before them. I cannot rest,Philippo and my wife run in my mind so:I know no cause why I should trust him moreThan all the world beside. I rememberHe told her that I bought the buck's-head, thereforeDeserv'd the horns: although I bid him try her,Yet I did not bid him bid her with one eyeLove me, and with the other wink at a friend.How we long to grow familiar with affliction;And, as many words do aptly hold concordanceTo make one sentence, just so many causesSeem to agree, when conceit makes us cuckolds.

EnterPhilippoandAbstemia.Lorenzoaside.

And here comes proof apparent; hand in hand too!Now their palms meet: that grasp begets a bastard!Phil.By your white hand, I swear 'twas only so.Lor.Poison of toads betwixt ye!Abs.Philippo, you have fully satisfied me.Lor.Insatiate whore! could not I satisfy ye?I shall commit a murder if I stay:I'll go forge thunder for ye. O, let meNevermore marry! what plague can transcendA whorish wife and a perfidious friend![Exit.Phil.By the unblemish'd faith then of a gentleman,And by your potent goodness (a great oath,For you are greatly good), by truth itself;For still I swear by you—what again hath pass'd,Was at the first but trial of your chastity,Far above time or story: as I speak truth,So may I prosper.Abs.And came these trials from your breast only?Phil.Only from my breast; and by the sweetExcellent blush of virtue, there is in youPlenty of truth and goodness.Abs.You have noblyAppeas'd the storm o'ertook you, and you areAgain a good man.

And here comes proof apparent; hand in hand too!Now their palms meet: that grasp begets a bastard!

Phil.By your white hand, I swear 'twas only so.

Lor.Poison of toads betwixt ye!

Abs.Philippo, you have fully satisfied me.

Lor.Insatiate whore! could not I satisfy ye?I shall commit a murder if I stay:I'll go forge thunder for ye. O, let meNevermore marry! what plague can transcendA whorish wife and a perfidious friend![Exit.

Phil.By the unblemish'd faith then of a gentleman,And by your potent goodness (a great oath,For you are greatly good), by truth itself;For still I swear by you—what again hath pass'd,Was at the first but trial of your chastity,Far above time or story: as I speak truth,So may I prosper.

Abs.And came these trials from your breast only?

Phil.Only from my breast; and by the sweetExcellent blush of virtue, there is in youPlenty of truth and goodness.

Abs.You have noblyAppeas'd the storm o'ertook you, and you areAgain a good man.

EnterLorenzo,Pandulpho,Spinoso,Jaspor,Jovani.

Lor.Traitor to truth and friendship!Did not mine honour hold me, I should rip outThat blushing hypocrite thy heart, that hath brokeSo strong a tie of faith: but beholdHow much of man is in me! there, I cast thee[126]From this believing heart to the iron handOf law, the wrong'd man's saint?Phil.What means this?Pan.My lord, here's warrantFor what's done, immediate from the duke;By force of which you're early i' th' morningBefore his grace to answer to such injuriesThe Count Lorenzo shall allege against you.Phil.Injuries! Why, friend, what injuries?Lor.Can ye spell stag, sir? 'tis four letters with two horns.Good gentlemen, convey him from my fury,For fear of greater mischief.Phil.Thou yellow fool!

Phil.What means this?

Pan.My lord, here's warrantFor what's done, immediate from the duke;By force of which you're early i' th' morningBefore his grace to answer to such injuriesThe Count Lorenzo shall allege against you.

Phil.Injuries! Why, friend, what injuries?

Lor.Can ye spell stag, sir? 'tis four letters with two horns.Good gentlemen, convey him from my fury,For fear of greater mischief.

Phil.Thou yellow fool!

[Exit.

Abs.I would you would instruct me, noble sir,But how to understand all this.Lor.Do ye see her? look on her, all, and wonder:Did ye ever see so foul guilt stand underneathA look so innocent?Jov.I should have pawn'dMy blood upon her honour.Pan.Colours not in grainMake as fair show, but are more apt to stain.Abs.My lord.Lor.Ye whore!

Abs.I would you would instruct me, noble sir,But how to understand all this.

Lor.Do ye see her? look on her, all, and wonder:Did ye ever see so foul guilt stand underneathA look so innocent?

Jov.I should have pawn'dMy blood upon her honour.

Pan.Colours not in grainMake as fair show, but are more apt to stain.

Abs.My lord.

Lor.Ye whore!

[Kicks her. She swoons.

Jas.Look to the lady.Lor.Look to her! hang her: let me send her nowTo the devil, with all her sins upon her head.Spin.Bear her in gently, and see her guarded.Pan.You are too violent, my lord.Lor.That men should ever marry! that we should lay our heads,And take our horns up out of women's laps!Jov.Be patient, good sir.Lor.Yes, and go make potguns.Jas.'Tis late, and sleep would do you good, my lord.Lor.Sleep! why, do you think I am mad, sir?Jas.Not I, my lord.Lor.Then you do lie, my lord,For I am mad, horn-mad: I shall be actedIn our theatres of Verona. O, what poison'sLike a false friend, and what plague more ruinousThan a lascivious wife? they steal our joys,And fill us with affliction: they leave our namesHedg'd in with calumny: in their false heartsCrocodiles breed, who make grief their disguise,And, in betraying, tears 'stil through their eyes.O, he that can believe he sleeps secureIn a false friend's oath, or in a bad wife's arms,Trusts Circe's witchcraft and Calypso's charms.Omnes.'Tis late; let's to the Court.

Jas.Look to the lady.

Lor.Look to her! hang her: let me send her nowTo the devil, with all her sins upon her head.

Spin.Bear her in gently, and see her guarded.

Pan.You are too violent, my lord.

Lor.That men should ever marry! that we should lay our heads,And take our horns up out of women's laps!

Jov.Be patient, good sir.

Lor.Yes, and go make potguns.

Jas.'Tis late, and sleep would do you good, my lord.

Lor.Sleep! why, do you think I am mad, sir?

Jas.Not I, my lord.

Lor.Then you do lie, my lord,For I am mad, horn-mad: I shall be actedIn our theatres of Verona. O, what poison'sLike a false friend, and what plague more ruinousThan a lascivious wife? they steal our joys,And fill us with affliction: they leave our namesHedg'd in with calumny: in their false heartsCrocodiles breed, who make grief their disguise,And, in betraying, tears 'stil through their eyes.O, he that can believe he sleeps secureIn a false friend's oath, or in a bad wife's arms,Trusts Circe's witchcraft and Calypso's charms.

Omnes.'Tis late; let's to the Court.

[ExeuntOmnes.

FOOTNOTES:[119]The plot of this play is taken partly from "Philomela, the Lady Fitzwater's Nightingale," by Robert Greene, 1592, 4o, which resembles the novel of the "Curious Impertinent" in "Don Quixote," and partly from Boccaccio's "Decameron," Gior. 7, Novella 7.—Reed.[120]This play, in the old copy, is divided into acts, but not into scenes. It was therefore useless to mark "Scene I." at the beginning of each act, as Mr Reed allowed it to stand, without the noting of any of the other scenes.—Collier.[121]Of course all that Lorenzo says in this scene in the presence of Abstemia is aside, and while he stands unseen by her.—Collier.[122][Old copy,alarm.][123]The 4oreads—"Whose wifeseemshonest, and no hypocrite."Mr Reed altered it as it stands in the text, and although he was probably right, the change ought to have been noticed.Collier.[124][Allayed, diluted. Mr Collier altered the word toallayed.][125][In allusion to the proverb, "After kissing comes greater kindness."][126][Old copy,them].

[119]The plot of this play is taken partly from "Philomela, the Lady Fitzwater's Nightingale," by Robert Greene, 1592, 4o, which resembles the novel of the "Curious Impertinent" in "Don Quixote," and partly from Boccaccio's "Decameron," Gior. 7, Novella 7.—Reed.

[120]This play, in the old copy, is divided into acts, but not into scenes. It was therefore useless to mark "Scene I." at the beginning of each act, as Mr Reed allowed it to stand, without the noting of any of the other scenes.—Collier.

[121]Of course all that Lorenzo says in this scene in the presence of Abstemia is aside, and while he stands unseen by her.—Collier.

[122][Old copy,alarm.]

[123]The 4oreads—"Whose wifeseemshonest, and no hypocrite."Mr Reed altered it as it stands in the text, and although he was probably right, the change ought to have been noticed.Collier.

[123]The 4oreads—

"Whose wifeseemshonest, and no hypocrite."

Mr Reed altered it as it stands in the text, and although he was probably right, the change ought to have been noticed.Collier.

[124][Allayed, diluted. Mr Collier altered the word toallayed.]

[125][In allusion to the proverb, "After kissing comes greater kindness."]

[126][Old copy,them].

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