Hip.I never can deserve this kindness, sir.What may this lady be, whom you call coz?
Flu.Faith, sir, a poor gentlewoman, of passing good carriage; one that has some suits in law, and lies here in an attorney’s house.
Hip.Is she married?
Flu.Ha, as all your punks are, a captain’s wife, or so: never saw her before, my lord?
Hip.Never, trust me: a goodly creature!
Flu.By gad, when you know her as we do, you’ll swear she is the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, most bewitching honest ape under the pole. A skin, your satin is not more soft, nor lawn whiter.
Hip.Belike, then, she’s some sale courtesan.[163]
Flu.Troth, as all your best faces are, a good wench.
Hip.Great pity that she’s a good wench.
Mat.Thou shalt ha’, i’faith, mistress.—How now, signors? what, whispering? Did not I lay a wager I should take you, within seven days, in a house of vanity?
Hip.You did; and, I beshrew your heart, you’ve won.
Mat.How do you like my mistress?
Hip.Well, for such a mistress; better, if your mistress be not your master—I must break manners, gentlemen, fare you well.
Mat.’Sfoot, you shall not leave us.
Bell.The gentleman likes not the taste of our company.
Flu.,Cas.,&c.Beseech you stay.
Hip.Trust me, my affairs beckon for me; pardon me.
Mat.Will you call for me half an hour hence here?
Hip.Perhaps I shall.
Mat.Perhaps? faugh! I know you can swear to me you will.
Hip.Since you will press me, on my word, I will.[Exit.
Bell.What sullen picture is this, servant?
Mat.It’s Count Hippolito, the brave count.
Pio.As gallant a spirit as any in Milan, you sweet Jew.
Flu.Oh! he’s a most essential gentleman, coz.
Cas.Did you never hear of Count Hippolito, acquaintance?
Bell.Marry muff,[164]a’ your counts, and be no more life in ’em.
Mat.He’s so malcontent! sirrah[165]Bellafront—An you be honest gallants, let’s sup together, and have the count with us:—thou shalt sit at the upper end, punk.[166]
Bell.Punk? you soused gurnet!
Mat.King’s truce: come, I’ll bestow the supper to have him but laugh.
Cas.He betrays his youth too grossly to that tyrant melancholy.
Mat.All this is for a woman.
Bell.A woman? some whore! what sweet jewel is’t?
Pio.Would she heard you!
Flu.Troth, so would I.
Cas.And I, by Heaven.
Bell.Nay, good servant, what woman?
Mat.Pah!
Bell.Prithee, tell me; a buss, and tell me: I warrant he’s an honest fellow, if he take on thus for a wench: good rogue, who?
Mat.By th’ Lord I will not, must not, faith’ mistress. Is’t a match, sirs? this night, at th’ Antelope: ay, for there’s best wine, and good boys.
Flu.,Cas.,Pio.It’s done; at th’ Antelope.
Bell.I cannot be there to night.
Mat.Cannot? by th’ Lord you shall.
Bell.By the Lady I will not: shall!
Flu.Why, then, put it off till Friday; wu’t come then, coz?
Bell.Well.
Re-enterRoger.
Mat.You’re the waspishest ape. Roger, put your mistress in mind to sup with us on Friday next. You’re best come like a madwoman, without a band, in your waistcoat, and the linings of your kirtle outward, like every common hackney that steals out at the back gate of her sweet knight’s lodging.
Bell.Go, go, hang yourself!
Cas.It’s dinner-time, Matheo; shall’s hence?
All.Yes, yes.—Farewell, wench.
Bell.Farewell, boys.—[Exeunt all exceptBellafrontandRoger.]—Roger, what wine sent they for?
Rog.Bastard wine,[167]for if it had been truly begotten, it would ha’ been ashamed to come in. Here’s six shillings to pay for nursing the bastard.
Bell.A company of rooks! O good sweet Roger, run to the poulter’s, and buy me some fine larks!
Rog.No woodcocks?[168]
Bell.Yes, faith, a couple, if they be not dear.
Rog.I’ll buy but one, there’s one already here.[Exit.
EnterHippolito.
Hip.Is the gentleman, my friend, departed, mistress?
Bell.His back is but new turned, sir.
Hip.Fare you well.
Bell.I can direct you to him.
Hip.Can you, pray?
Bell.If you please, stay, he’ll not be absent long.
Hip.I care not much.
Bell.Pray sit, forsooth.
Hip.I’m hot.[Lays aside his sword.If I may use your room, I’ll rather walk.
Bell.At your best pleasure—whew—some rubbers there!
Hip.Indeed, I’ll none:—indeed I will not: thanks.Pretty fine lodging. I perceive my friendIs old in your acquaintance.
Bell.Troth, sir, he comesAs other gentlemen, to spend spare hoursIf yourself like our roof, such as it is,Your own acquaintance may be as old as his.
Hip.Say I did like; what welcome should I find?
Bell.Such as my present fortunes can afford.
Hip.But would you let me play Matheo’s part?
Bell.What part?
Hip.Why, embrace you: dally with you, kiss:Faith, tell me, will you leave him and love me?
Bell.I am in bonds to no man, sir.
Hip.Why then,You’re free for any man; if any, me.But I must tell you, lady, were you mine,You should be all mine; I could brook no sharers,I should be covetous, and sweep up all.I should be pleasure’s usurer; faith, I should.
Bell.O fate!
Hip.Why sigh you, lady? may I know?
Bell.’Thas never been my fortune yet to singleOut that one man, whose love could fellow mine,As I have ever wished it: O my stars!Had I but met with one kind gentleman,That would have purchased sin alone to himself,For his own private use, although scarce proper,Indifferent handsome: meetly legged and thighed:And my allowance reasonable, i’faith,According to my body, by my troth,I would have been as true unto his pleasures,Yea, and as loyal to his afternoons,As ever a poor gentlewoman could be.
Hip.This were well now to one but newly fledged,And scarce a day old in this subtle world:’Twere pretty art, good bird-lime, cunning net,But come, come, faith, confess: how many menHave drunk this self-same protestation,From that red ’ticing lip?
Bell.Indeed, not any.
Hip.Indeed?and blush not!
Bell.No, in truth, not any.
Hip.Indeed! in truth?—how warily you swear!’Tis well: if ill it be not: yet had IThe ruffian in me, and were drawn before youBut in light colours, I do know indeed,You could not swearindeed, but thunder oathsThat should shake Heaven, drown the harmonious spheres,And pierce a soul, that loved her maker’s honourWith horror and amazement.
Bell.Shall I swear?—Will you believe me then?
Hip.Worst then of all;Our sins by custom, seem at last but small.Were I but o’er your threshold, a next man,And after him a next, and then a fourth,Should have this golden hook, and lascivious bait,Thrown out to the full length. Why let me tell you:I ha’ seen letters sent from that white hand,Tuning such music to Matheo’s ear.
Bell.Matheo! that’s true, but believe it, INo sooner had laid hold upon your presence,But straight mine eye conveyed you to my heart.
Hip.Oh, you cannot feign with me! why, I know, lady,This is the common passion of you all,To hook in a kind gentleman, and thenAbuse his coin, conveying it to your lover,And in the end you show him a French trick,And so you leave him, that a coach may runBetween his legs for breadth.
Bell.Oh, by my soul,Not I! therein I’ll prove an honest whore,In being true to one, and to no more.
Hip.If any be disposed to trust your oath,Let him: I’ll not be he; I know you feignAll that you speak; ay, for a mingled harlotIs true in nothing but in being false.What! shall I teach you how to loath yourself?And mildly too, not without sense or reason.
Bell.I am content; I would feign loath myselfIf you not love me.
Hip.Then if your gracious bloodBe not all wasted, I shall assay to do’t.Lend me your silence, and attention.You have no soul, that makes you weigh so light;Heaven’s treasure bought it:And half-a-crown hath sold it:—for your bodyIs like the common-shore, that still receivesAll the town’s filth. The sin of many menIs within you; and thus much I suppose,That if all your committers stood in rank,They’d make a lane, in which your shame might dwell,And with their spaces reach from hence to hell.Nay, shall I urge it more? there has been knownAs many by one harlot, maimed and dismembered,As would ha’ stuffed an hospital: this I mightApply to you, and perhaps do you right:O you’re as base as any beast that bears,—Your body is e’en hired, and so are theirs.For gold and sparkling jewels, if he can,You’ll let a Jew get you with Christian:Be he a Moor, a Tartar, though his faceLook uglier than a dead man’s skull.Could the devil put on a human shape,If his purse shake out crowns, up then he gets;Whores will be rid to hell with golden bits.So that you’re crueller than Turks, for theySell Christians only, you sell yourselves away.Why, those that love you, hate you: and will term youLiquorish damnation; with themselves half-sunkAfter the sin is laid out, and e’en curseTheir fruitless riot; for what one begetsAnother poisons; lust and murder hit:A tree being often shook, what fruit can knit?
Bell.O me unhappy!
Hip.I can vex you more:A harlot is like Dunkirk, true to none,Swallows both English, Spanish, fulsome Dutch,Back-doored Italian, last of all, the French,And he sticks to you, faith, gives you your diet,Brings you acquainted, first with Monsieur DoctorAnd then you know what follows.
Bell.Misery.Rank, stinking, and most loathsome misery.
Hip.Methinks a toad is happier than a whore;That with one poison swells, with thousands moreThe other stocks her veins: harlot? fie, fie!You are the miserablest creatures breathing,The very slaves of nature; mark me else:You put on rich attires, others’ eyes wear them,You eat, but to supply your blood with sin:And this strange curse e’en haunts you to your graves.From fools you get, and spend it upon slaves:Like bears and apes, you’re baited and show tricksFor money; but your bawd the sweetness licks.Indeed, you are their journey-women, and doAll base and damned works they list set you to:So that you ne’er are rich; for do but show me,In present memory, or in ages past,The fairest and most famous courtesan,Whose flesh was dear’st: that raised the price of sin,And held it up; to whose intemperate bosom,Princes, earls, lords, the worst has been a knight,The mean’st a gentleman, have offered upWhole hecatombs of sighs, and rained in showersHandfuls of gold; yet, for all this, at lastDiseases sucked her marrow, then grew so poor,That she has begged e’en at a beggar’s door.And (wherein Heaven has a finger) when this idol,From coast to coast, has leapt on foreign shores,And had more worship than th’outlandish whores:When several nations have gone over her,When for each several city she has seen,Her maidenhead has been new, and been sold dear:Did live well there, and might have died unknown,And undefamed; back comes she to her own,And there both miserably lives and dies,Scorned even of those that once adored her eyes,As if her fatal circled life thus ran,Her pride should end there, where it first began.What do you weep to hear your story read?Nay, if you spoil your cheeks, I’ll read no more.
Bell.O yes, I pray, proceed:Indeed, ’twill do me good to weep, indeed.
Hip.To give those tears a relish, this I add,You’re like the Jews, scattered, in no place certain,Your days are tedious, your hours burdensome:And were’t not for full suppers, midnight revels,Dancing, wine, riotous meetings, which do drown,And bury quite in you all virtuous thoughts,And on your eyelids hang so heavily,They have no power to look so high as Heaven,—You’d sit and muse on nothing but despair,Curse that devil Lust, that so burns up your blood,And in ten thousand shivers break your glassFor his temptation. Say you taste delight,To have a golden gull from rise to set,To mete[169]you in his hot luxurious arms,Yet your nights pay for all: I know you dreamOf warrants, whips, and beadles, and then startAt a door’s windy creak: think every weaselTo be a constable, and every ratA long-tailed officer: Are you now not slaves?Oh, you’ve damnation without pleasure for it!Such is the state of harlots. To conclude:When you are old and can well paint no more,You turn bawd, and are then worse than before:Make use of this: farewell.
Bell.Oh, I pray, stay.
Hip.I see Matheo comes not: time hath barred me;Would all the harlots in the town had heard me.[Exit.
Bell.Stay yet a little longer! No? quite gone!Curst be that minute—for it was no more,So soon a maid is changed into a whore—Wherein I first fell! be it for ever black!Yet why should sweet Hippolito shun mine eyes?For whose true love I would become pure, honest,Hate the world’s mixtures, and the smiles of gold.Am I not fair? why should he fly me then?Fair creatures are desired, not scorned of men.How many gallants have drunk healths to me,Out of their daggered arms, and thought them blest,Enjoying but mine eyes at prodigal feasts!And does Hippolito detest my love?Oh, sure their heedless lusts but flattered me,I am not pleasing, beautiful, nor young.Hippolito hath spied some ugly blemish,Eclipsing all my beauties: I am foul:Harlot! Ay, that’s the spot that taints my soul.What! has he left his weapon here behind himAnd gone forgetful? O fit instrumentTo let forth all the poison of my flesh!Thy master hates me, ’cause my blood hath ranged:But when ’tis forth, then he’ll believe I’m changed.
As she is about to stab herself re-enterHippolito.
Hip.Mad woman, what art doing?
Bell.Either love me,Or split my heart upon thy rapier’s point:Yet do not neither; for thou then destroy’stThat which I love thee for—thy virtues. Here, here;[Gives sword toHippolito.Th’art crueller, and kill’st me with disdain:To die so, sheds no blood, yet ’tis worse pain.[ExitHippolito.Not speak to me! Not bid farewell? a scorn?Hated! this must not be; some means I’ll try.Would all whores were as honest now as I![Exit.
Candido,Viola,George,and twoPrenticesdiscovered:Fustigoenters, walking by.
Geo.See, gentlemen, what you lack; a fine holland, a fine cambric: see what you buy.
1st Pren.Holland for shirts, cambric for bands; what is’t you lack?
Fus.’Sfoot, I lack ’em all; nay, more, I lack money to buy ’em. Let me see, let me look again: mass, this is the shop. [Aside.] What coz! sweet coz! how dost, i’faith, since last night after candlelight? we had good sport, i’faith, had we not? and when shall’s laugh again?
Vio.When you will, cousin.
Fus.Spoke like a kind Lacedemonian: I see yonder’s thy husband.
Vio.Ay, there’s the sweet youth, God bless him!
Fus.And how is’t, cousin? and how, how is’t, thou squall?[170]
Vio.Well, cousin, how fare you?
Fus.How fare I? for sixpence a-meal, wench, as well as heart can wish, with calves’ chaldrons,[171]and chitterlings;[172]besides, I have a punk after supper, as good as a roasted apple.
Cand.Are you my wife’s cousin?
Fus.I am, sir; what hast thou to do with that?
Cand.O, nothing, but you’re welcome.
Fus.The devil’s dung in thy teeth! I’ll be welcome whether thou wilt or no, I.—What ring’s this, coz? very pretty and fantastical, i’faith! let’s see it.
Vio.Pooh! nay, you wrench my finger.
Fus.I ha’ sworn I’ll ha’t, and I hope you will not let my oaths be cracked in the ring, will you? [Seizes the ring.] I hope, sir, you are not malicholly[173]at this, for all your great looks: are you angry?
Cand.Angry? not I, sir, nay if she can partSo easily with her ring, ’tis with my heart.
Geo.Suffer this, sir, and suffer all, a whoreson gull, to—
Cand.Peace George, when she has reaped what I have sown,She’ll say, one grain tastes better of her own,Than whole sheaves gathered from another’s land:Wit’s never good, till bought at a dear hand.
Geo.But in the mean-time she makes an ass of some body.
2nd Pren.See, see, see, sir, as you turn your back they do nothing but kiss.
Cand.No matter, let ’em: when I touch her lip,I shall not feel his kisses, no, nor missAny of her lip: no harm in kissing is.Look to your business, pray, make up your wares.
Fus.Troth, coz, and well remembered, I would thou wouldst give me five yards of lawn, to make my punk some falling bands a’ the fashion; three falling one upon another, for that’s the new edition now: she’s out of linen horribly, too; troth, sh’ as never a good smock to her back neither, but one that has a great many patches in’t, and that I’m fain to wear myself for want of shift, too: prithee, put me into wholesome napery, and bestow some clean commodities upon us.
Vio.Reach me those cambrics, and the lawns hither.
Cand.What to do, wife? to lavish out my goods upon a fool?
Fus.Fool? Snails, eat the fool, or I’ll so batter your crown, that it shall scarce go for five shillings.
2nd Pren.Do you hear, sir? you’re best be quiet, and say a fool tells you so.
Fus.Nails, I think so, for thou tellest me.
Cand.Are you angry, sir, because I named the fool?Trust me, you are not wise in my own house,And to my face to play the antic thus:If you needs play the madman, choose a stageOf lesser compass, where few eyes may noteYour action’s error: but if still you miss,As here you do, for one clap, ten will hiss.
Fus.Zounds, cousin, he talks to me, as if I were a scurvy tragedian.
2nd Pren.Sirrah George, I ha’ thought upon a device, how to break his pate, beat him soundly, and ship him away.
Geo.Do’t.
2nd Pren.I’ll go in, pass through the house, give some of our fellow-prentices the watch-word when they shall enter; then come and fetch my master in by a wile, and place one in the hall to hold him in conference, whilst we cudgel the gull out of his coxcomb.[Exit2nd Prentice.
Geo.Do’t: away, do’t.
Vio.Must I call twice for these cambrics and lawns?
Cand.Nay see, you anger her, George, prithee despatch.
1st Pren.Two of the choicest pieces are in the warehouse, sir.
Cand.Go fetch them presently.
Fus.Ay, do, make haste, sirrah.[Exit1st Prentice.
Cand.Why were you such a stranger all this while, being my wife’s cousin?
Fus.Stranger? no sir, I’m a natural Milaner born.
Cand.I perceive still it is your natural guise to mistake me, but you are welcome, sir; I much wish your acquaintance.
Fus.My acquaintance? I scorn that, i’faith; I hope my acquaintance goes in chains of gold three and fifty times double:—you know who I mean, coz; the posts of his gate are a-painting too.[174]
Re-enter the2nd Prentice.
2nd Pren.Signor Pandulfo the merchant desires conference with you.
Cand.Signor Pandulfo? I’ll be with him straight,Attend your mistress and the gentleman.[Exit.
Vio.When do you show those pieces?
Fus.Ay, when do you show those pieces?
Prentices.[Within.] Presently, sir, presently: we are but charging them.
Fus.Come, sirrah: you flat-cap,[175]where be these whites?
Re-enter1st Prenticewith pieces.
Geo.Flat-cap? hark in your ear, sir, you’re a flat fool, an ass, a gull, and I’ll thrum[176]you:—do you see this cambric, sir?
Fus.’Sfoot coz, a good jest, did you hear him? he told me in my ears, I was a “flat fool, an ass, a gull, and I’ll thrum you:—do you see this cambric sir?”
Vio.What, not my men, I hope?
Fus.No, not your men, but one of your men i’faith.
1st Pren.I pray, sir, come hither, what say you to this? here’s an excellent good one.
Fus.Ay, marry, this likes[177]me well; cut me off some half-score yards.
2nd Pren.Let your whores cut; you’re an impudent coxcomb; you get none, and yet I’ll thrum you:—a very good cambric, sir.
Fus.Again, again, as God judge me! ’Sfoot, coz, they stand thrumming here with me all day, and yet I get nothing.
1st Pren.A word, I pray, sir, you must not be angry. Prentices have hot bloods, young fellows,—what say you to this piece? Look you, ’tis so delicate, so soft, so even, so fine a thread, that a lady may wear it.
Fus.’Sfoot, I think so, if a knight marry my punk, a lady shall wear it: cut me off twenty yards: thou’rt an honest lad.
1st Pren.Not without money, gull, and I’ll thrum you too.
Prentices.[Within.] Gull, we’ll thrum you.
Fus.O Lord, sister, did you not hear something cry thrum? zounds, your men here make a plain ass of me.
Vio.What, to my face so impudent?
Geo.Ay, in a cause so honest, we’ll not sufferOur master’s goods to vanish moneyless.
Vio.You will not suffer them?
2nd Pren.No, and you may blush,In going about to vex so mild a breast,As is our master’s.
Vio.Take away those pieces.Cousin, I give them freely.
Fus.Mass, and I’ll take ’em as freely.
Geo., 1st and 2nd Pren., and other prentices, rushing in.We’ll make you lay ’em down again more freely.[They all attackFustigowith their clubs.
Vio.Help, help! my brother will be murdered.
Re-enterCandido.
Cand.How now, what coil is here? forbear I say.[Exeunt all thePrenticesexcept the 1st and 2nd.
Geo.He calls us flat-caps, and abuses us.
Cand.Why, sirs, do such examples flow from me?
Vio.They’re of your keeping, sir. Alas, poor brother.
Fus.I’faith they ha’ peppered me, sister; look, dost not spin? call you these prentices? I’ll ne’er play at cards more when clubs is trump: I have a goodly coxcomb, sister, have I not?
Cand.Sister and brother? brother to my wife?
Fus.If you have any skill in heraldry, you may soon know that; break but her pate, and you shall see her blood and mine is all one.
Cand.A surgeon! run, a surgeon! [Exit 1stPrentice.] Why then wore you that forged name of cousin?
Fus.Because it’s a common thing to call coz, and ningle[178]now-a-days all the world over.
Cand.Cousin! A name of much deceit, folly, and sin,For under that common abused word,Many an honest-tempered citizenIs made a monster, and his wife trained outTo foul adulterous action, full of fraud.I may well call that word, a city’s bawd.
Fus.Troth, brother, my sister would needs ha’ me take upon me to gull your patience a little: but it has made double gules[179]on my coxcomb.
Vio.What, playing the woman? blabbing now, you fool?
Cand.Oh, my wife did but exercise a jest upon your wit.
Fus.’Sfoot, my wit bleeds for’t, methinks.
Cand.Then let this warning more of sense afford;The name of cousin is a bloody word.
Fus.I’ll ne’er call coz again whilst I live, to have such a coil about it; this should be a coronation day; for my head runs claret lustily.[Exit.
Cand.Go, wish[180]the surgeon to have great respect—[Exit2nd Prentice.
Enter anOfficer.
How now, my friend? what, do they sit to day?
Offi.Yes, sir, they expect you at the senate-house.
Cand.I thank your pains; I’ll not be last man there.—[ExitOfficer.My gown, George, go, my gown. [ExitGeorge.] A happy land,Where grave men meet each cause to understand;Whose consciences are not cut out in bribesTo gull the poor man’s right; but in even scales,Peize[181]rich and poor, without corruption’s vails.[182]
Re-enterGeorge.
Come, where’s the gown?
Geo.I cannot find the key, sir.
Cand.Request it of your mistress.
Vio.Come not to me for any key;I’ll not be troubled to deliver it.
Cand.Good wife, kind wife, it is a needful trouble, but for my gown!
Vio.Moths swallow down your gown!You set my teeth on edge with talking on’t.