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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-490-5

    Copyright Digital Renaissance Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-profit purposes; for all other uses contact the Editor.
    Authors: Thomas Dekker, Thomas Middleton
    Editor: Joost Daalder
    Peer Reviewed

    The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)

    Hone st Whore,
    With,
    The Humours of the Patient Man,
    0.005and the Longing Wife.
    Tho: Dekker.
    LONDON
    Printed by V. S. for Iohn Hodgets, and are to
    be solde at his shop in Paules
    0.010church-yard 1604
    The Hone st Whore
    1 ACTVS PRIMVS. SCAENA PRIMA.
    Enter at one doore a Funerall, a Coronet lying on the Hearse, Scut-
    chins and Garlands hanging on the sides, attended by Gasparo
    Trebatzi, Duke of Millan, Ca struchio, Sinezi. Pioratto
    Fluello, 5 and others at an other doore. Enter Hipolito in discon-
    tented apparance: Matheo a Gentleman his friend, labouring
    to hold him backe.
    Duke
    BEhold, yon Commet shewes his head againe;
    10Twice hath he thus at cro s s e-turnes throwne on vs
    Prodigious lookes: Twice hath he troubled
    The waters of our eyes. See, hee's turnde wilde;
    Go on in Gods name.
    All On afore there ho.
    15 Duke Kinsmen and friends, take from your manly sides
    Your weapons to keepe backe the desprate boy
    From doing violence to the innocent dead.
    Hipolito I pry thee deere Matheo.
    Matheo Come, y'are mad.
    20 Hip: I do are st thee murderer: set downe.
    Villaines set downe that sorrow, tis all mine.
    Duke I do beseech you all, for my bloods sake
    Send hence your milder spirits, and let wrath
    Ioine in confederacie with your weapons points;
    25If he proceede to vexe vs, let your swordes
    Seeke out his bowells: funerall griefe loathes words.
    All Set on.
    Hip. Set downe the body.
    Mat: O my Lord?
    30Y'are wrong: i'th open streete? you see shees dead.
    Hip: I know shee is not dead.
    Duke Franticke yong man,
    Wilt thou beleeve these gentlemen? pray speake:
    Thou doo st abuse my childe, and mock st the teares
    35That heere are shed for her: If to behold
    Those roses withered, that set out her cheekes:
    That paire of starres that gave her body light,
    Darkned and dim for ever: All those rivers
    That fed her veines with warme and crimson streames,
    40Frozen and dried vp: If these be signes of death,
    Then is she dead. Thou vnreligious youth,
    Art not a shamde to emptie all these eyes
    Of funerall teares, (a debt due to the dead,)
    As mirth is to the living: Sham' st thou not
    45To have them stare on thee? harke, thou art cur st
    Even to thy face, by those that scarce can speake.
    Hip. My Lord.
    Duke What would st thou have? is she not dead?
    Hip. Oh, you ha killd her by your crueltie.
    50 Duke Admit I had, thou kill st her now againe;
    And art more savage then a barbarous Moore.
    Hip. Let me but ki s s e her pale and bloodle s s e lip.
    Duke O fie, fie, fie.
    Hip. Or if not touch her, let me looke on her.
    55 Math. As you regard your honour.
    Hip. Honour! smoake.
    Math. Or if you lov'de hir living, spare her now.
    Duke I, well done sir, you play the gentleman:
    Steale hence: tis nobly done: away: Ile ioyne
    60My force to yours, to stop this violent torment:
    Pa s s e on. Exeunt with funerall.
    Hip. Matheo, thou doo st wound me more.
    Math. I give you phi sicke noble friend, not wounds,
    Duke Oh well said, well done, a true gentleman:
    65Alacke, I know the sea of lovers rage
    Comes ru shing with so strong a tide: it beates
    And beares downe all respects of life, of honour,
    Of friends, of foes, forget her gallant youth.
    Hip. Forget her?
    70 Duke Na, na, be but patient:
    For why deaths hand hath sued a strict divorse
    Twixt her and thee: whats beautie but a coarse?
    What but faire sand-du st are earths pure st formes:
    Queenes bodies are but trunckes to put in wormes.
    75 Mathew Speake no more sentences, my good lord, but slip
    hence; you see they are but fits, ile rule him I warrant ye. I, so,
    treade gingerly, your Grace is heere somewhat too long alrea-
    dy. Sbloud the jea st were now, if having tane some knockes
    o'th pate already, he should get loose againe, and like a madde
    80Oxe, to s s e my new blacke cloakes into the kennell. I mu st hu-
    mour his lord ship: my lord Hipolito, is it in your stomacke to
    goe to dinner?
    Hipolito Where is the body?
    Matheo The body, as the Duke spake very wisely, is gone
    85to be wormd.
    Hipolito I cannot re st, ile meete it at next turne,
    Ile see how my love lookes, Mathaeo holds him ins armes
    Mathaeo How your love lookes? worse than a scarre-crowe,
    wra stle not with me: the great felow gives the fall for a duckat.
    90 Hipolito I shall forget my selfe.
    Mathaeo Pray do so, leave your selfe behinde your selfe, and
    go whither you will. Sfoote, doe you long to have base roags
    that maintaine a saint Anthonies fire in their noses (by nothing
    but two peny Ale) make ballads of you? if the Duke had but so
    95much mettle in him, as is in a coblers awle, he would ha beene a
    vext thing: he and his traine had blowne you vp, but that their
    powlder haz taken the wet of cowards: youle bleed three pot-
    tles of Aligant, by this light, if you follow em, and then wee
    shall have a hole made in a wrong place, to have Surgeons roll
    100thee vp like a babie in swadling clowts.
    Hipolito What day is to day, Mathaeo?
    Mathaeo Yea mary, this is an ea sie que stion: why to day is,
    let me see, thurseday. Hipolito Oh, thurseday.
    Mathaeo Heeres a coile for a dead commoditie, sfoote wo-
    105men when they are alive are but dead commodities, for you
    shall have one woman lie vpon many mens hands.
    Hipolito Shee died on monday then.
    Mathaeo And thats the mo st villainous day of all the weeke
    to die in: and she was wel, and eate a me s s e of water-grewel on
    110monday morning.
    Hipolito I, it cannot be,
    Such a bright taper should burne out so soone.
    Mathaeo O yes my Lord, so soone: why I ha knowne them,
    that at dinner have bin aswell, and had so much health, that they
    115were glad to pledge it, yet before three a clocke have bin found
    dead drunke.
    Hipolito On thurseday buried! and on monday died,
    Quicke ha ste birlady: sure her winding sheete
    Was laide out fore her bodie, and the wormes
    120That now mu st fea st with her, were even bespoke,
    And solemnely invited like strange gue sts.
    Mathaeo Strange feeders they are indeede my lord, and like
    your jea ster or yong Courtier, will enter vpon any mans tren-
    cher without bidding.
    125 Hipolito Cur st be that day for ever that robd her
    Of breath, and me of bli s s e, hencefoorth let it stand
    Within the Wizardes booke (the kalendar)
    Markt with a marginall finger, to be chosen
    By theeves, by villaines, and blacke murderers,
    130As the be st day for them to labour in.
    If hencefoorth this adulterous bawdy world
    Be got with childe with treason, sacrilege,
    Atheisme, rapes, treacherous friend ship, periurie,
    Slaunder, (the beggars sinne) lies, ( sinne of fooles)
    135Or anie other damnd impieties,
    On Monday let em be delivered:
    I sweare to thee Mathaeo, by my soule.
    Heereafter weekely on that day ile glew
    Mine eie-lids downe, because they shall not gaze
    140On any female cheeke. And being lockt vp
    In my close chamber, there ile meditate
    On nothing but my Infaelices end,
    Or on a dead mans scull drawe out mine owne.
    Mathaeo Youle doe all these good workes now every mon-
    145day, because it is so bad: but I hope vppon tuesday morning I
    shall take you with a wench.
    Hipolito If ever whil st fraile bloud through my veins runne,
    On womans beames I throw affection,
    Save her thats dead: or that I loosely flie
    150To'th shoare of any other wafting eie,
    Let me not prosper heaven. I will be true,
    Even to her du st and a shes: could her tombe
    Stand whil st I livde so long, that it might rot,
    That should fall downe, but she be ne're forgot.
    155 Mathaeo If you have this strange mon ster, Hone stie, in
    your belly, why so Iig-makers and chroniclers shall picke som-
    thing out of you: but and I smell not you and a bawdy house
    out within these tenne daies, let my nose be as bigge as an En-
    gli sh bag-pudding: Ile followe your lord ship, though it be to
    160the place aforenamed. Exeunt.
    Enter Fu stigo in some fanta stike Sea-suite at one
    doore, a Porter meets him at another.
    Fu st . How now porter, will she come?
    Porter If I may tru st a woman sir, she will come.
    165 Fu st . Theres for thy paines, godamercy, if ever I stand in
    neede of a wench that will come with a wet finger, Porter, thou
    shalt earne my mony before anie Clari s simo in Millane; yet so
    god sa mee shees mine owne si ster body and soule, as I am a
    chri stian Gentleman; farewell, ile ponder till shee come: thou
    170ha st bin no bawde in fetching this woman, I a s s ure thee.
    Porter No matter if I had sir, better men than Porters are
    bawdes.
    Fu st . O God sir, manie that have borne offices. But Por-
    ter, art sure thou went st into a true house?
    175 Porter I thinke so, for I met with no thieves.
    Fu st . Nay but arte sure it was my si ster Viola.
    Porter I am sure by all superscriptions it was the partie you (ciphered.
    Fu st . Not very tall.
    Porter Nor very lowe, a midling woman.
    180 Fu st . Twas she faith, twas she, a prettie plumpe cheeke like (mine.
    Porter At a blu sh, a little very much like you.
    Fu st . Gods so, I would not for a duckat she had kickt vp hir
    heeles, for I ha spent an abomination this voyage, marie I
    did it among st sailers and gentlemen: theres a little modicum
    185more porter for making thee stay, farewell hone st porter.
    Porter I am in your debt sir, God preserve you. Exit.
    Enter Viola.
    Fu. Not so neither, good porter, gods lid, yonder she coms.
    Si ster Viola, I am glad to see you stirring: its newes to have mee
    190heere, i st not si ster?
    Viola Yes tru st me: I wondred who should be so bolde to
    send for me, you are welcome to Millan brother.
    Fu st . Troth si ster I heard you were married to a verie rich
    chuffe, and I was very sorie for it, that I had no better clothes,
    195and that made me send: for you knowe wee Millaners love to
    strut vpon Spani sh leather. And how does all our friends?
    Viola Very well; you ha travelled enough now, I trowe, to
    sowe your wilde oates.
    Fu st . A pox on em; wilde oates, I ha not an oate to throw
    200at a horse, troth si ster I ha sowde my oates, and reapt 200.
    duckats if I had em, heere, mary I mu st intreate you to lend me
    some thirty or forty till the ship come, by this hand ile discharge
    at my day, by this hand.
    Viola These are your olde oaths.
    205 Fu st . Why si ster, doe you thinke ile forsweare my hand?
    Viola Well, well, you shall have them: put your selfe into
    better fa shion, because I mu st imploy you in a serious matter.
    Fu st . Ile sweare like a horse if I like the matter.
    Uiola You ha ca st off all your olde swaggering humours.
    210 Fu st . I had not sailde a league in that great fi sh-pond (the
    sea) but I ca st vp my very gall.
    Viola I am the more sory, for I mu st imploy a true swagge-
    rer.
    Fu st . Nay by this yron si ster, they shall finde I am powlder
    215and touch-box, if they put fire once into me.
    Uiola Then lend me your eares.
    Fu st . Mine eares are yours deere si ster.
    Uiola I am married to a man that haz wealth enough, and
    wit enough.
    220 Fu st . A linnen Draper I was tolde si ster.
    Viola Very true, a grave Cittizen; I want nothing that a
    wife can wi sh from a husband: but heeres the spite, hee haz
    not all things belonging to a man.
    Fu st . Gods my life, hee's a verie mandrake, or else (God
    ble s s e 225vs) one a these whiblins, and thats woorse, and then
    all the children that he gets lawfully of your body si ster, are
    ba stards by a statute.
    Vio: O you runne over me too fa st brother, I have heard it
    often said, that hee who cannot be angry, is no man. I am sure
    230my husband is a man in print, for all things else, save onely in
    this, no tempe st can move him.
    Fi st . Slid, would he had beene at sea with vs, hee should ha
    beene movde and movde agen, for Ile be sworne la, our drun-
    ken ship reelde like a Dutchman.
    235 Viola No lo s s e of goods can increase in him a wrinckle, no
    crabbed language make his countenance sowre, the stubburn-
    nes of no servant shake him, he haz no more gall in him than a
    Dove, no more sting than an Ant: Mu sitian will he never bee,
    (yet I finde much mu sicke in him,) but he loves no frets, and
    is 240 so free from anger, that many times I am ready to bite off my
    tongue, because it wants that vertue which all womens tongues
    have (to anger their husbands:) Brother, mine can by no thun-
    der: turne him into a sharpenes.
    Fu st . Belike his blood si ster, is well brewd then.
    245 Viola I prote st to thee Fu stigo, I love him mo st affecti-
    onately, but I know not ---- I ha such a tickling with-
    in mee ---- such a strange longing; nay, verily I doo
    long.
    Fu stigo Then y'are with childe si ster, by all signes and
    250tokens; nay, I am partly a Phi sitian, and partly something
    else. I ha read Albertus Magnus, and Ari stotles em-
    blemes.
    Viola Y'are wide ath bow hand still brother: my longings
    are not wanton, but wayward: I long to have my patient hus-
    255band eate vp a whole Porcupine, to the intent, the bri stling
    quills may sticke about his lippes like a flemmi sh mu stacho,
    and be shot at me: I shall be leaner than the new Moone, vn-
    le s s e I can make him hornemad.
    Fu st: Sfoote halfe a quarter of an houre does that: make him
    260a cuckold.
    Viola Puh, he would count such a cut no vnkindenes.
    Fu st . The hone ster Cittizen he, then make him drunke and
    cut off his beard.
    Viola Fie, fie, idle, idle, hee's no French-man, to fret at the
    265lo s s e of a little scalde haire. No brother, thus it shall be, you mu st
    be secret.
    Fu. As your Mid-wife I prote st si ster, or a Barber-surgeon.
    Viola Repaire to the Tortoys heere in S. Chri stophers streete,
    I will send you mony, turne your selfe into a brave man: in steed
    270of the armes of your mi stris, let your sword and your militarie
    scarfe hang about your necke.
    Fu st: I mu st have a great Horse-mans French feather too
    si ster.
    Uiola O, by any meanes, to shew your light head, else your
    275hat will sit like a coxcombe: to be briefe, you mu st bee in all
    points a mo st terrible wide-mouth'd swaggerer.
    Fu st . Nay, for swaggering points let me alone.
    Viola Resort then to our shop, and (in my husbands presence)
    ki s s e me, snatch rings, jewells, or any thing; so you give it backe
    280agen brother in secret.
    Fu st . By this hand si ster.
    Uiola Sweare as if you came but new from knight-
    ing.
    Fu st . Nay, Ile sweare after 400. a yeare.
    285 Uiola Swagger worse then a Lievetenant among fre sh-wa-
    ter souldiers, call me your love, your yngle, your coosen, or so;
    but si ster at no hand.
    Fu st . No, no, It shall be coosen, or rather cuz, thats the gulling
    word betweene the Cittizens wives & their olde dames, 290that
    man em to the garden; to call you one a mine aunts, si ster, were
    as good as call you arrant whoores no, no, let me alone to cosen
    you rarely.
    Uiola Haz heard I have a brother, but never saw him, there-
    fore put on a good face.
    295 Fu st . The be st in Millan I warrant.
    Viola Take vp wares, but pay nothing, rifle my bosome, my
    pocket, my purse, the boxes for mony to dice with all; but bro-
    ther, you mu st give all backe agen in secret.
    Fu stigo By this welkin that heere roares? I will, or else
    300let me never know what a secret is: why si ster do you thinke
    Ile cunni-catch you, when you are my coosen? Gods my life,
    then I were a starke A s s e, if I fret not his guts, beg me for a
    foole.
    Viola Be circumspect, and do so then, farewell.
    305 Fu st . The Tortoys si ster? Ile stay there; forty duckats. Exit.
    Viola Thither Ile send: this law can none deny,
    Women mu st have their longings, or they die. Exit.
    Gasparo the Duke, Doctor Benedicke, two seruants.
    Duke Give charge that none do enter, locke the doores;
    310And fellowes, what your eyes and eares receave,
    Vpon your lives tru st not the gadding aire
    To carry the lea st part of it: the gla s s e, the houre-gla s s e.
    Doctor Heere my Lord.
    Duke. Ah, tis meere spent.
    315But Doctor Benedick, does your Art speake truth?
    Art sure the soporiferous streame will ebbe,
    And leave the Chri stall banks of her white body
    (Pure as they were at fir st) iu st at the houre?
    Doctor Iu st at the houre my Lord.
    320 Duke Vncurtaine her.
    Softly sweete Doctor: what a coldi sh heate
    Spreads over all her bodie.
    Doctor Now it workes:
    The vitall spirits that by a sleepie charme
    325Were bound vp fa st, and threw an icie ru st
    On her exterior parts, now gin to breake:
    Trouble her not my Lord.
    Duke Some stooles, you calld
    For mu sicke, did you not? Oh ho, it speakes,
    330It speakes, watch sirs her waking, note those sands,
    Doctor sit downe: A Dukedome that should wey mine
    Owne downe twice, being put into one scale:
    And that fond desperate boy Hipolito,
    Making the weight vp, should not (at my hands)
    335Buy her i'th tother, were her state more light
    Than hers, who makes a dowrie vp with almes.
    Doctor Ile starve her on the Appenine
    Ere he shall marrie her: I mu st confe s s e,
    Hipolito is nobly borne, a man;
    340Did not mine enemies blood boile in his veines,
    Whom I would court to be my sonne in law?
    But Princes whose high spleenes for empery swell,
    Are not with ea sie arte made paralell.
    2 Ser. She wakes my Lord. Duke Looke Doctor Benedick.
    345I charge you on your lives maintaine for truth,
    What ere the Doctor or my selfe averre
    For you shall beare hes hence to Bergaine
    Inf. Oh God, what fearefull dreames?
    Doctor Lady. Inf. Ha.
    350 Duke Girle.
    Why Infaeli sha, how i st now, ha, speake?
    Inf. I'me well, what makes this Doctor heere? I'me well.
    Duke Thou wert not so even now, sicknes pale hand
    Laid hold on thee even in the dead st of fea sting,
    355And when a cap crownde with thy lovers health
    Had toucht thy lips, a sencible cold dew
    Stood on thy cheekes, as if that death had wept
    To see such beautie alterd.
    Inf. I remember
    360I sate at banquet, but felt no such change.
    Duke Thou ha st forgot then how a me s s enger
    Came wildely in with this vnsavorie newes
    That he was dead.
    Inf. What me s s enger? whoes dead?
    365 Duke Hipolito, alacke, wring not thy hands.
    Inf. I saw no me s s enger, heard no such newes,
    Doctor Tru st me you did sweete Lady.
    Duke La you now. 2 Servants Yes indeede Madam.
    Duke La you now, tis well God knowes.
    370 Inf. You ha slaine him, and now you'le murder mee.
    Duke Good Infaeli sh ae vexe not thus thy selfe,
    Of this the bad report before did strike
    So coldly to the heart, that the swift currents
    Of life were all frozen vp.
    375 Inf. It is vntrue,
    Tis mo st vntrue, O mo st vnnaturall father!
    Duke And we had much to do by Arts be st cunning,
    To fetch life backe againe.
    Doctor Mo st certaine Lady.
    380 Duke Why la you now, you'le not beleeve mee, friends,
    Sweate we not all; had we not much to do?
    2 Ser. Yes indeede my Lord, much.
    Duke Death drew such fearefull pictures in thy face,
    That were Hipolito alive agen,
    385Ile kneele and woo the noble gentleman
    To be thy husband: now I fore repent
    My sharpenes to him, and his family;
    Nay, do not weepe for him, we all mu st die:
    Doctor, this place where she so oft hath seene
    390His lively presence, haunts her, does it not?
    Doctor Doubtle s s e my Lord it does.
    Duke It does, it does.
    Therefore sweete girle thou shalt to Bergamo.
    Inf. Even where you will, in any place theres woe.
    395 Duke A Coach is ready, Bergamo doth stand
    In a mo st wholesome aire, sweete walkes, theres diere,
    I, thou shalt hunt and send vs venison.
    Which like some gods in the Coprian groves,
    Thine owne faire hand shall strike; sirs, you shall teach her
    400To stand, and how to shoote, I, she shall hunt:
    Ca st off this sorrow. In girle, and prepare
    This night to ride away to Bergamo.
    Inf. O mo st vnhappie maid. Exit.
    Duke Follow it close.
    405No words that she was buried on your lives,
    Or that her gho st walkes now after shees dead;
    Ile hang you if you name a funerall.
    1 Ser. Ile speake Greeke my Lord, ere I speake that dead-
    ly word.
    410 2 Ser. And Ile speake Welch, which is harder then Greek. ( Exeunt.
    Duke Away, looke to her; Doctor Benedick,
    Did you observe how her complexion altered
    Vpon his name and death, O would t'were true.
    Doctor It may my Lord.
    415 Duke May? how? I wi sh his death.
    Doctor And you may have your wi sh: say but the word,
    And tis a strong Spell to rip vp his grave:
    I have good knowledge with Hipolito;
    He calls me friend, Ile creepe into his bosome,
    420And sting him there to death; poison can doo't.
    Duke Performe it; Ile create thee halfe mine heire.
    Doctor It shall be done, although the fact be fowle.
    Duke Greatnes hides sin, the guilt vpon my soule. Exeunt
    Enter Ca struchio, Pioratto, and Fluello.
    425 Ca st: Signior Pioratto, signior Fluello, shalls be merry? shalls
    play the wags now?
    Flu: I, any thing that may beget the childe of laughter.
    Ca st: Truth I have a pretty sportive conceit new crept into
    my braine, will moove excellent mirth.
    430 Pio: Lets ha't, lets ha't, and where shall the sceane of mirth (lie?
    Ca st . At signior Candidoes house, the patient man, nay the
    mon strous patient man; they say his bloud is immoveable, that
    he haz taken all patience from a man, and all con stancie from
    a woman.
    435 Flu. That makes so many whoores nowadayes.
    Ca st . I, and so many knaves too.
    Pio. Well sir.
    Ca st . To conclude, the reporte goes, hees so milde, so affa-
    ble, so suffering, that nothing indeede can moove him: now do
    440but thinke what sport it will be to make this fellow (the mirror
    of patience) as angry, as vext, and as madde as an Engli sh cuc-
    kolde.
    Flu. O, twere admirable mirth, that: but how wilt be done
    signior?
    445 Ca st . Let me alone, I have a tricke, a conceit, a thing, a de-
    vice will sting him yfaith, if he have but a thimblefull of blood
    ins belly, or a spleene not so bigge as a taverne token.
    Pio. Thou stirre him? thou moove him? thou anger him?
    alas, I know his approoved temper: thou vex him? why hee
    450haz a patieuce above mans iniuries: thou maie st sooner raise a
    spleene in an Angell, than rough humour in him: why ile give
    you in stance for it. This wonderfully temperd signior Candido
    vppon a time invited home to his house certaine Neapolitane
    lordes of curious ta ste, and no meane pallats, conjuring his wife
    455of all loves, to prepare cheere fitting for such honourable tren-
    cher-men. Shee (ju st of a womans nature, covetous to trie the
    vttermo st of vexation, and thinking at la st to gette the starte of
    his humour) willingly neglected the preparation, and became
    vnfurni sht, not onely of dainty, but of ordinary di shes. He (ac-
    460cording to the mildene s s e of his brea st) entertained the lordes,
    and with courtly discourse beguiled the time (as much as a Cit-
    tizen might doe:) to conclude, they were hungry lordes, for
    there came no meate in; their stomackes were plainely gulld,
    and their teeth deluded, and (if anger could have seizd a man)
    465there was matter enough yfaith to vex any citizen in the world,
    if hee were not too much made a foole by his wife.
    Flu. I, Ile sweare for't: sfoote, had it beene my case, I should
    ha playde mad trickes with my wife and family: fir st I woulde
    ha spitted the men, stewd the maides, and bak't the mi stre s s e,
    470and so served them in.
    Pio. Why twould ha tempred any bloud but his,
    And thou to vex him? thou to anger him
    With some poore shallow jea st?
    Ca st . Sbloud signior Pioratto, (you that disparage my con-
    475ceit) ile wage a hundred duckats vppon the head on't, that it
    mooves him, fretts him, and galles him.
    Pio. Done, tis a lay, ioyne golls on't: witnes signior Fluello.
    Ca st . Witnes: tis done:
    Come, follow mee: the house is not farre off,
    480Ile thru st him from his humour, vex his brea st,
    And winne a hundred duckats by one iea st. Exeunt.
    Enter Candidoes wife, George, and two prentices
    in the shoppe.
    Wife Come, you put vp your wares in good order heere, do
    485you not thinke you, one peece ca st this way, another that way?
    you had neede have a patient mai ster indeede.
    George I, ile be sworne, for we have a cur st mi stris.
    Wife You mumble, do you mumble? I would your mai ster
    or I could be a note more angry: for two patient folkes in a
    490house spoyle all the servants that ever shall come vnder them.
    1. prentise You patient! I, so is the divell when he is horne
    madde.
    Enter Ca struchio, Fluello, and Pioratto.
    All three Gentlemen, what do you lacke? what i st you buy?
    495See fine hollands, fine cambrickes, fine lawnes.
    George What i st you lacke?
    2. prentise What i st you buy?
    Ca st . Wheres signior Candido thy mai ster?
    George Faith signior, hees a little negotiated, hee'le appeare (presently.
    500 Ca st . Fellow, lets see a lawne, a choice one sirra.
    George The be st in all Millan, Gentlemen, and this is the
    peece. I can fit you Gentlemen with fine callicoes too for dub-
    lets, the onely sweete fa shion now, mo st delicate and courtlie, a
    meeke gentle calico, cut vpon two double affable taffataes, ah,
    505mo st neate, feate, and vnmatchable.
    Flu. A notable-voluble tongde villaine.
    Pio. I warrant this fellow was never begot without much
    prating.
    Ca st . What, and is this shee sai st thou?
    510 George I, and the pure st shee that ever you fingerd since
    you were a gentleman: looke how even she is, look how cleane
    she is, ha, as even as the browe of Cinthia, and as cleane as your
    sonnes and heires when they ha spent all.
    Ca st . Puh, thou talk st, pox on't tis rough.
    515 George How? is she rough? but if you bid pox on't sir, twill
    take away the roughne s s e presently.
    Flu. Ha signior; haz he fitted your French curse?
    George Looke you Gentleman, heeres an other, compare
    them I pray, compara Virgilium cum Homero , compare virgins
    520with harlots.
    Ca st . Puh, I ha seene better, and as you terme them, evener
    and cleaner.
    Geor. You may see further for your mind, but tru st me
    you shall not find better for your body. Enter Candido.
    525 Ca st . O here he comes, lets make as tho we pa s s e,
    Come, come, weele try in some other shop.
    Cand. How now? what's the matter?
    Geor. The gentlemen find fault with this lawne, fall out
    with it, and without a cause too.
    530 Cand Without a cause!
    And that makes you to let 'em pa s s e away,
    Ah, may I craue a word with you gentlemen?
    Flu. He calls vs.
    Ca st . Makes the better for the ie st.
    535 Cand. I pray come neare, - y'are very welcome gallants,
    Pray pardon my mans rudene s s e, for I feare me
    Ha's talkt aboue a prentice with you, - Lawnes!
    Looke you kind gentlemen - this! no: - I this:
    Take this vpon my hone st-dealing faith,
    540To be a true weaue, not too hard, nor slack,
    But eene as farre from fal shood, as from black.
    Ca st . Well, how doe you rate it?
    Cand. Very conscionably, 18.s. a yard.
    Ca st . That's too deare: how many yards does the whole
    545piece containe thinke you?
    Cand. Why, some 17. yardes I thinke, or there abouts,
    How much would serue your turne? I pray.
    Ca st . Why let me see - would it were better too.
    Cand. Truth, tis the be st in Millan at fewe words.
    550 Ca st . Well: let me haue then - a whole penny-worth.
    Cand. Ha, ha: y'are a merry gentleman.
    Ca st . A pennorth I say.
    Cand. Of lawne !
    Ca st . Of lawne? I of lawne, a pennorth, sblood do st not
    555heare? a whole pennorth, are you deaffe?
    Cand. Deaffe? no Syr: but I mu st tell you,
    Our wares doe seldome meete such cu stomers.
    Ca st . Nay, and you and your lawnes be so squemi sh,
    Fare you well.
    560 Cand. Pray stay, a word, pray Signior: for what purpose
    is it I beseech you?
    Ca st . Sblood, whats that to you: Ile haue a penny worth.
    Can. A penny-worth! why you shall: Ile serue you (presently.
    2. Pren. Sfoot, a penny-worth mi stris!
    565 Mi st . A penny-worth! call you these Gentlemen?
    Ca st . No, no: not there.
    Can. What then kinde Gentle-man? what at this corner (here?
    Ca st . No nor there neither.
    Ile haue it iu st in the middle, or els not.
    570 Can. Iu st in the middle: - ha - you shall too: what?
    Haue you a single penny>?
    Ca st . Yes, heeres one. Can. Lend it me I pray.
    Flu. An exlent followed ie st.
    Wife. What will he spoile the Lawne now?
    575 Can. Patience, good wife.
    Wife. I, that patience makes a foole of you: Gentlemen,
    you might ha found some other Citizen to haue made a
    kind gull on, be sides my husband.
    Can. Pray Gentlemen take her to be a woman,
    580Do not regard her language. -- O kinde soule:
    Such words will driue away my cu stomers,
    Wife. Cu stomers with a murrē: call you these cu stomers?
    Can. Patience, good wife. Wife. Pax, a your patience.
    Geor. Sfoot mi stris, I warrant these are some cheating
    585companions.
    Can. Looke you Gentleman, theres your ware, I thank
    you, I haue your mony; heare, pray know my shop, pray
    let me haue your cu stome.
    Wife. Cu stome quoth a.
    Can. Let me take more of your money.
    590 Wife. You had need so.
    Pio. Harke in thine eare, tha st lo st an hundred duckets.
    Ca st . Well, well, I knowt: i st po s sible that Homo,
    Should be nor man, nor woman: not once mooud;
    No not at such an iniurie, not at all!
    595Sure hees a pigeon, for he has no gall.
    Flu. Come, come, y'are angry tho you smother it:
    Yare vext ifaith, - confe s s e. Can. Why Gentle-men
    Should you conceit me to be vext or moou'd?
    He has my ware, I haue his money fort,
    600And thats no Argument I am angry: no,
    The be st Logitian can not proue me so.
    Flu. oh, but the hatefull name of a pennyworth of lawne,
    And then cut out, ith middle of the peece:
    Pah, I gue s s e it by my selfe, would moue a Lambe
    605Were he a Lynnen-draper - twould ifaith.
    Can. Well, giue me leaue to answere you for that,
    Were set heere to please all cu stomers,
    Their humours and their fancies: - offend none:
    We get by many, if we leese by one.
    610May be his minde stood to no more then that,
    A penworth serues him, and mong st trades tis (found,
    Deny a pennorth, it may cro s s e a pound.
    Oh, he that meanes to thriue with patient eye,
    Mu st please the diuell, if he come to buy.
    615 Flu. O wondrous man, patient boue wrong or woe,
    How ble st were men, if women could be so.
    Can. And to expre s s e how well my bre st is pleasd,
    And satisfied in all: - George fill a beaker. Exit George.
    Ile drinke vnto that Gentleman, who lately
    620Be stowed his mony with me. Wife. Gods my life,
    We shall haue all our gaines drunke out in beakers,
    To make amends for pennyworths of lawne. Enter Georg.
    Can. Here wife, begin you to the Gentleman.
    Wife. I begin to him. Can. George, filt vp againe:
    625Twas my fault, my hand shooke. Exit George.
    Pio. How strangely this doth showe?
    A patient man linkt with a waspi sh shrowe.
    Flu. A siluer and gilt beaker! I haue a tricke to worke vp-
    on that beaker, sure twil fret him, 630it cannot choose but vexe
    him. Seig. Ca strachio, in pittie to thee, I haue a cōceit, wil saue
    thy 100. Duckets yet, twil doot, & work him to impatience.
    Ca st . Sweet Fluello, I should be bountiful to that conceit.
    635 Flu. Well tis enough. Enter George.
    Can. Here Gentleman to you,
    I wi sh your cu stome, yare exceeding welcome.
    Ca st . I pledge you Seig. Candido, - heere you, that mu st re-
    ceiue a 100. Duccats.
    640 Pior. Ile pledge them deepe yfaith Ca struchio,
    Signior Fluello?
    Flu. Come: play't off: to me,
    I am your la st man.
    Cand. George, supply the cup.
    Flu. So, so, good hone st George,
    645Here Signior Candido, all this to you.
    Cand. Oh you mu st pardon me, I vse it not.
    Flu. Will you not pledge me then?
    Cand. Yes, but not that:
    Great loue is showne in little.
    650 Flu. Blurt on your sentences, - Sfoot you shall pledge
    mee all.
    Cand. Indeed I shall not.
    Flu. Not pledge me? Sblood, Ile cary away the beaker (then.
    655 Cand. The beaker! Oh! that at your pleasure sir.
    Flu. Now by this drinke I will.
    Ca st . Pledge him, heele do't else.
    Flu. So: I ha done you right, on my thumble naile,
    What will you pledge me now?
    660 Cand. You know me syr, I am not of that sin.
    Flu. Why then farewell:
    Ile beare away the beaker by this light.
    Cand. Thats as you please, tis very good.
    Flu. Nay it doth please me, & as you say, tis a very good (one:
    665Farewell Signior Candido.
    Pio. Farewell Candido.
    Cand. Y'are welcome gentlemen.
    Ca st . Heart not mou'd yet?
    I thinke his patience is aboue our wit,
    670 Geor. I told you before mi stre s s e, they were all cheaters. (Exeunt.
    Wife Why foole, why husband, why madman, I hope
    you will not let 'em sneake away so with a siluer and gilt
    beaker, the be st in the house too: goe fellowes make hue and
    cry after them.
    675 Cand. Pray let your tongue lye still, all wil be well:
    Come hither George, hye to the Con stable,
    And in calme order wi sh him to attach them,
    Make no great stirre, because they're gentlemen,
    And a thing partly done in meriment.
    680Tis but a size aboue a ie st thou know st,
    Therefore pursue it mildly, goe be gone,
    The Con stabl's hard by, bring him along, - make ha st a- (gaine.
    Wife. O y'are a goodly patient Woodcocke, are you not
    now? (Exit George.
    685See what your patiēce comes too: euery one sadles you, and
    rydes you, youle be shortly the common stone-horse of
    Myllan: a womans well holp't vp with such a meacocke, I
    had rather haue a husband that would swaddle me thrice a
    day, then such a one, that will be guld twice in halfe an how-
    690er, Oh I could burne all the wares in my shop for anger.
    Cand. Pray weare a peacefull temper, be my wife,
    That is, be patient: for a wife and husband
    Share but one soule between them: this being knowne,
    Why should not one soule then agree in one?
    695 Wife Hang your agreements: But if my beaker be gone. (Exit.
    Enter Ca struchio, Fluello, Pioratto, and George.
    Cand. Oh, heare they come.
    Geor. The Con stable syr, let'em come along with me,
    because there should be no wondring, he staies at dore.
    700 Ca st . Con stable goodman Abram.
    Flu. Now Signior Candido, Sblood why doe you attach (vs?
    Ca st . Sheart! attach vs!
    Cand. Nay sweare not gallants,
    Your oathes may moue your soules, but not moue me,
    705You haue a siluer beaker of my wiues.
    Flu. You say not true: tis gilt.
    Cand. Then you say true.
    And being gilt, the guilt lyes more on you.
    Ca st . I hope y'are not angry syr.
    710 Cand. Then you hope right, for I am not angry.
    Pio. No, but a little mou'de.
    Cand. I mou'd! twas you were mou'd, you were brought (hither.
    Ca st . But you (out of your anger & impatience,)
    Caus'd vs to be attacht.
    715 Cand. Nay you misplace it.
    Out of my quiet sufferaence I did that,
    And not of any wrath, had I showne anger,
    I should haue then pursude you with the lawe,
    And hunted you to shame, as many worldlings
    720Doe build their anger vpon feebler groundes,
    The mores the pitty, many loose their liues
    For scarce so much coyne as will hide their palme:
    Which is mo st cruell, those haue vexed spirits
    That pursue liues, in this opinion re st,
    725 The lo s s e of Millions could not moue my bre st.
    Flu. Thou art a ble st man, and with peace do st deale,
    Such a meeke spirit can ble s s e a common weale.
    Cand. Gentlemen, now tis vpon eating time,
    Pray part not hence, but dyne with me today.
    730 Ca st . I neuer heard a carter yet say nay
    To such a motion. Ile not be the fir st.
    Pio. Nor I,
    Flu. Nor I,
    Cand. The con stable shall beare you company,
    735 George call him in, let the world say what it can,
    Nothing can driue me from a patient man. (Exeunt.
    Enter Roger with a stoole, cu shin, looking-gla s s e and chafing-di sh ,
    Those being set downe, he pulls out of his pocket, a violl with
    white cullor in it. And 2. boxes, one with white, another red
    740 painting, he places all things in order & a candle by thē, singing
    with the ends of old Ballads as he does it. At la st Bella-
    front (as he rubs his cheeke with the cullors, whi stles with-
    in.
    Ro. Anon forsooth.
    745 Bel. What are you playing the roague about?
    Ro. About you, forsooth: I me drawing vp a hole in your
    white silke stocking.
    Bell. Is my gla s s e there? and my boxes of complexion?
    Ro. Yes forsooth: your boxes of complexion are
    750here I thinke: yes tis here: her's your twe complexi-
    ons, and if I had all the foure complexions, I should
    nere set a good face vpont, some men I see are borne vn-
    der hard-fauourd plānets as well as women: zounds I looke
    worse now then I did before, & it makes her face gli ster mo st
    755damnably, theres knauery in dawbing I hold my life, or else
    this is onely female Pomatum.
    Enter Bellafronte not full ready, without a gowne, shee sits
    downe, with her bodkin curles her haire, cullers her lips.
    Bell. Wheres my ruffe and poker you block-head?
    760 Ro. Your ruffe, your pocker, are ingendring together vp-
    on the cup-bord of the Court, or the Court-cup-bord.
    Bel. Fetch e'm: Is the poxe in your hames, you can goe
    no fa ster?
    Ro. Wood the pox were in your fingers, vnle s s e you could
    765leaue flinging; catch. Exit.
    Bell. Ile catch you, you dog by and by: do you grumble?
    Cupid is a God, as naked as my naile She sings.
    Ile whip him with a rod, if he my true loue faile.
    Ro. Thers your ruffe, shall I poke it?
    770 Bel. Yes hone st Ro, no stay: pry thee good boy, hold here,
    Downe, downe, downe, down, I fall downe and arise, downe, I ne-
    uer shall arise.
    Ro. Troth M. then leaue the trade if you shall neuer rise.
    Bell. What trade? good-man Abram.
    775 Ro. Why that, if down and arise or the falling trade.
    Bell. Ile fall with you by and by.
    Ro. If you doe I know who shall smart fort:
    Troth Mi stris, what do I looke like now?
    Bell. Like as you are: a panderly Sixpenny Rascall.
    780 Ro. I may thanke you for that: infaith I looke like an old
    Prouerbe, Hold the Candle before the diuell.
    Bell. Vds life, Ile sticke my knife in your Guts and you
    prate to me so: What? She sings.
    Well met, pug, the pearle of beautie: vmh, vmh.
    785 How now sir knaue, you forget your dutie, vmh, vmh.
    Marry muffe Sir, are you growne so daintie; fa, la, la, &c.
    Is it you Sir? the wor st of twentie, fa la, la, leera la.
    Pox on you, how doe st thou hold my gla s s e?
    Ro. Why, as I hold your doore: with my fingers.
    790 Hell. Nay pray thee sweet hony Ro. hold vp handsomely
    Sing prety Wantons warble, &c. We shall ha gue sts today.
    I lay my little meadenhead, my nose itches so.
    Ro. I said so too la st night, when our Fleas twing'd me.
    Bell. So Poke my ruffe now, my gowne, my gown, haue (I my fall?
    795Wher's my fall Roger? One knocks.
    Ro. Your fall forsooth is behind.
    Bell. Gods my pittikins, some foole or other knocks.
    Ro. Shall I open to the foole mi stre s s e?
    Bell. And all these bables lying thus? away with it quick-
    800ly, I, I, knock & be dambde, whosoeuer you be. So: giue the
    fre sh Salmon lyne now: let him come a shoare, hee shall
    serue for my breakefa st, tho he goe again st my stomack.
    Roger Fetch in Fluello, Ca struchio, and Pioratto.
    Flu. Morrow coz.
    805 Ca st . How does my sweete acquaintance?
    Pio. Saue thee little Marmoset: how doe st thou good
    pretty roague?
    Bell. Well, Godamercy good pretty rascall.
    Flu. Roger some light I pry thee.
    810 Ro. You shall Signior, for we that liue here in this vale
    of misery, are as darke as hell. Exit. for a candle.
    Ca st . Good Tabacco, Fluello?
    Flu. Smell? (Enter Roger.
    Pio. It may be tickling geere: for it plaies with my nose (already.
    815 Ro. Her's another light Angell, Signior.
    Bell. What? yon pyed curtal, whats that you are neighing?
    Ro. I say God send vs the light of heauen, or some more
    Angels.
    Bell. Goe fetch some wyne, and drinke halfe of it.
    820 Ro. I mu st fetch some wyne gentlemen and drinke halfe (of it.
    Flu. Here Roger.
    Ca st . No let me send pry thee.
    Flu. Hold you canker worme.
    Ro. You shall send both, if you please Signiors.
    825 Pio. Stay, whats be st to drinke a mornings?
    Ro. Hypocras sir, for my mi stres, if I fetch it, is mo st deare (to her.
    Flu. Hypocras! ther then, her's a te ston for you, you snake
    Ro. Right syr, her's iij. s. vi. d. for a pottle & a manchet- Ex.
    Ca st . Her's mo st herculaniā Tobacco, ha some acquaintāce?
    830 Bel. Fah, not I, makes your breath stinke, like the pi s s e of a
    Foxe. Acquaintance, where supt you la st night?
    Ca st . At a place sweete acquaintance where your health
    danc'de the Canaries y'faith: you should ha ben there.
    Bell. I there among your Punkes, marry fah, hang-em:
    835 scorn't: will you neuer leaue sucking of egs in other folkes
    hens nea sts.
    Ca st . Why in good troth, if youle tru st me acquaintance,
    there was not one hen at the board, aske Fluello.
    Flu. No faith Coz; none but Cocks, signior Malauella
    840drunke to thee. Bel. O, a pure beagle; that horse-leach there?
    Flu. And the knight, S. Oliuer Lollilo, swore he wold be stow
    a taffata petticoate on thee, but to breake his fa st with thee.
    Bel. With me! Ile choake him then, hang him Mole-cat-
    cher, its the dreaming st snotty-nose.
    845 Pio. Well, many tooke that Lollio for a foole, but he's a
    subtile foole. Bel. I, and he has fellowes: of all filthy
    dry-fi sted knights, I cannot abide that he should touch me.
    Ca st . Why wench, is he scabbed?
    Bel. Hang him, heele not liue to bee so hone st, nor to the
    850credite to haue scabbes about him, his betters haue em: but
    I hate to weare out any of his course knight-hood, because
    hee's made like an Aldermans night-gowne, fac st all with
    conny before, and within nothing but Foxe: this sweete
    Oliuer, will eate Mutton till he be ready to bur st, but the
    855leane iawde- slaue wil not pay for the scraping of his trēcher.
    Pio. Plague him, set him beneath the sault, and let him not
    touch a bit, till euery one has had his full cut.
    Flu. Lord Ello, the Gentleman-V sher came into vs too,
    marry twas in our cheese, for he had beene to borrow mony
    860for his Lord, of a Citizen.
    Ca st . What an a s s e is that Lord, to borrow money of a
    Citizen.
    Bell. Nay, Gods my pitty, what an a s s e is that Citizen to
    lend mony of a Lord.
    865 Enter Matheo and Hypolito, who saluting the Com-
    pany, as a stranger walkes off . Roger comes in sadly behind them,
    with a potle-pot , and stands aloofe off .
    Matheo. Saue you Gallants, signior Fluello, exceedingly
    well met, as I may say.
    870 Flu. Signior Matheo, exceedingly well met too, as I may
    say.
    Ma. And how fares my little prettie Mi stris?
    Bell. Eene as my little pretie seruant; sees three court di-
    shes before her, and not one good bit in them: how now?
    875why the diuell stand st thou so? Art in a trance?
    Ro. Yes forsooth. Bell Why do st not fil out their wine?
    Ro. Forsooth tis fild out already: all the wine that the sig-
    nior has be stowde vpon you is ca st away, a Porter ranne a
    litle at me, and so fac' st me downe that I had not a drop.
    880 Bel. Ime a cur st to let such a withered Artichocke faced-
    Rascall grow vnder my nose: now you looke like an old he
    cat, going to the gallowes: Ile be hangde if he ha not put vp
    the mony to cony-catch vs all.
    Ro. No truely forsooth, tis not put vp yet.
    885 Bel. How many Gentlemen ha st thou serued thus?
    Ro. None but fiue hundred, be sides prentices and seruing- (men.
    Bell Doe st thinke Ile pocket it vp at thy hands?
    Ro. Yes forsooth, I feare you will pocket it vp.
    Bel Fye, fye, cut my lace good seruant, I shall ha the mo-
    890ther presently Im'e so vext at this horse-plumme.
    Flu. Plague, not for a scald pottle of wine.
    Ma. Nay, sweete Bellafronte, for a little Pigs wa sh.
    Ca st . Here Roger, fetch more, a mischance. Yfaith Ac-
    quantance.
    895 Bell Out of my sight, thou vngodly puritanical creature.
    Ro. For the tother pottle? yes forsooth. Exit.
    Bell. Spill that too: what Gentleman is that seruant? your
    Friend?
    Ma. Gods so a stoole, a stoole, if you loue me Mi stris en-
    900tertaine this Gentleman respectiuely, & bid him welcome.
    Bell. Hees very welcome, pray Sir sit.
    Hip Thankes Lady.
    Flu. Count Hypolito, i st not? cry you mercie signior, you
    walke here all this while, and we not heard you? let me be-
    905 stowa stoole vpō you beseech you, you are a stranger here,
    we know the fa shions ath house.
    Ca st . Please you be heere my Lord. Tabacco.
    Hipo. No good Ca struchio.
    Flu. You haue abandoned the Court I see my lord since
    910the death of your mi stre s s e, well she was a delicate piece-be-
    seech you sweete, come let vs serue vnder the cullors of your
    acquaintance stil: for all that, please you to meete here at my
    lodging of my cuz, I shall be stow a banquet vpon you.
    Hipo. I neuer can deserue this kindne s s e syr.
    915What may this Lady be, whom you call cuz?
    Flu. Faith syr a poore gentlewoman, of pa s sing good ca-
    riage, one that has some sutes in law, and lyes here in an At-
    turnies house.
    Hipo. Is she married?
    920 Flu. Hah, as all your punks are, a captens wife, or so?
    neuer saw her before, my Lord.
    Hipo. Neuer tru st me a goodly creature.
    Flu. By gad when you know her as we do, youle swear she is
    the prettie st, kinde st, sweete st, mo st bewitching hone st ape
    925vnder the pole. A skin, your satten is not more soft, nor
    lawne whiter.
    Hipo. Belike then shees some sale curtizan.
    Flu. Troth as all your be st faces are, a good wench.
    Hipo. Great pitty that shees a good wench:
    930 Ma. Thou shalt ha ifaith mi stre s s e: how now signiors?
    what? whispering? did not I lay a wager I should take you
    within seuen daies in a house of vanity.
    Hipo. You did, and I be shrew your heart, you haue won.
    Ma. How do you like my mi stre s s e?
    935 Hipo. Well, for such a mi stre s s e: better, if your mi stre s s e
    be not you ma ster.
    I mu st breake manners gentlemen, fare you well.
    Ma. Sfoote you shall not leaue vs.
    Bell. The gentleman likes not the ta st of our company,
    940 Omni. Beseech you stay.
    Hipo. Tru st me my affaires becken for me, pardon me.
    Ma. Will you call for me halfe an houre hence here?
    Hip. Perhaps I shall.
    Ma. Perhaps? fah! I know you can sweare to me you wil,
    945 Hip. Since you will pre s s e me on my word, I will. Exit.
    Bell. What sullen picture is this seruant?
    Ma. Its Count Hipolito, the braue Count.
    Pio. As gallant a spirit, as any in Millan you sweete (Iewe,
    Flu. Oh hees a mo st e s s entiall gentleman, coz.
    950 Ca st . Did you neuer heare of Count Hipolitos ac-
    quaintance?
    Bell. Marymuffe a your counts, & be no more life in'em.
    Ma. Hees so malcontent! sirra Bellafronta, & you be ho-
    ne st gallants, lets sup together, and haue the count with vs:
    955thou shalt sit at the vpper end puncke.
    Bell. Puncke, you sowcde gurnet?
    Ma. Kings truce: come, ile be stow the supper to haue
    him but laugh.
    Ca st . He betraies his youth too gro sly to that tyrant ma- (lancholy.
    960 Ma. All this is for a woman.
    Bell. A woman! some whore! what sweet Iewell i st?
    Pio. Wod she heard you. Flu. Troth so wud I.
    Ca st . And I by heauen.
    Bell. Nay good seruant, what woman? Ma. Pah.
    965 Bell. Pry thee tell me, abu s s e and tell me: I warrant hees
    an hone st fellowe, if hee take on thus for a wench: good
    roague who:
    Ma. Byth Lord I will not, mu st not faith mi stre s s e: i st a
    match sirs? his night, at Th'antilop: I, for thers be st wine, and (good boyes.
    970 Omni. Its done at Th'antilop.
    Bell. I cannot be there to night.
    Ma. Cannot? bith lord you shall.
    Bell. By the Lady I will not: shaall!
    Flu. Why then put it off till fryday: wut come then cuz?
    975 Bell. Well. Enter Roger.
    Ma. Y'are the waspi she st Ape. Roger, put your mis-
    tre s s e in mind to sup with vs on friday next: y'are be st come
    like a madwoman without a band in your wa stcoate, & the
    lynings of your kirtle outward, like 980euery common hackney
    that steales out at the back gate of her sweet knights lodging
    Bell. Goe, goe, hang your selfe. Ca st . Its dinner time Matheo, ( shalls hence?
    Omni. Yes, yes, farewell wench. Exeunt.
    Bell. Farewell boyes: Roger what wine sent they for?
    985 Ro. Ba stard wine, for if it had bin truly begotten, it wud
    not ha bin a shamde to come in, her's vi.s. to pay for nur sing
    the ba stard.
    Bell. A company of rookes! O good sweete Roger, run to
    the Poulters and buy me some fine Larkes.
    990 Ro. No woodcocks?
    Bell. Yes faith a couple, if they be not deare.
    Ro. Ile buy but one, theres one already here. Exit.
    Enter Hipolito.
    Hipo. Is the gentleman (my friend) departed mi stre s s e?
    995 Bell. His backe is but new-turnd syr.
    Hipo. Fare you well. Bell. I can direct you to him.
    Hipo. Can you? pray.
    Bell. If you please stay, heele not be absent long.
    Hipo. I care not much.
    1000 Bell. Pray sit forsooth. Hipo. I'me hot.
    Hipo. If may vse your roome, ile rather walke.
    Bell. At your be st pleasure-whew-some rubbers there.
    Hipo. Indeed ile non: -Indeed I will not: thanks.
    Pretty-fine-lodging. I perceiue my friend
    1005 Is old in your acquaintance. Bell. Troth syr, he comes
    As other gentlemen, to spend spare howers;
    If your selfe like our roofe (such as it is)
    Your owne acquaintance may be as old as his.
    Hipo. Say I did like; what welcome should I find?
    1010 Bell. Such as my present fortunes can afford.
    Hipo. But would you let me play Mathaeos part?
    Bell. What part?
    Hipo. Why imbrace you: dally with you, ki s s e:
    Faith tell me, will you leaue him, and loue me?
    1015 Bell. I am in bondes to no man syr. Hipo. Why then,
    Y'are free for any man: if any, me.
    But I mu st tell you Lady, were you mine,
    You should be all mine: I could brooke no sharers,
    I should be couetous, and sweepe vp all.
    1020I should be pleasures vsurer: faith I should.
    Bell. O fate!
    Hipo. Why sigh you Lady? may I knowe?
    Bell. T'has neuer bin my fortune yet to single
    Out that one man, whose loue could fellow mine.
    1025As I haue euer wi sht it: ô my Stars!
    Had I but met with one kind gentleman,
    That would haue purchacde sin alone, to himselfe,
    For his owne priuate vse, although scarce proper:
    Indifferent hansome: meetly legd and thyed:
    1030And my allowance reasonable-yfaith,
    According to my body-by my troth,
    I would haue bin as true vnto his pleasures,
    Yea, and as loyall to his afternoones,
    As euer a poore gentlewoman could be.
    1035 Hipo. This were well now, to one but newly fledg'd,
    And scarce a day old in this suttle world:
    Twere prettie Art, good bird-lime, cunning net:
    But come, come, faith-confe s s e: how many men
    Haue drunke this selfe-same prote station,
    1040From that red tycing lip?
    Bell. Indeed not any.
    Hipo. Indeed? and blu sh not!
    Bell. No, in truth not any.
    Hipo. Indeed! in truth!-how warily you sweare?
    1045Tis well: if ill it be not: yet had I
    The ruffian in me, and were drawne before you
    But in light cullors, I doe know indeed,
    You could not sweare indeede, But thunder oathes
    That should shake heauen, drowne the harmonious sphers,
    1050And pierce a soule (that lou'd her makers honour)
    With horror and amazement.
    Bell. Shall I sweare?
    Will you beleeue me then?
    Hipo. Wor st then of all,
    1055Our sins by cu stome, seeme (at la st) but small.
    Were I but o're your thre shold, a next man,
    And after him a next, and then a fourth,
    Should haue this golden hooke, and lasciuious baite,
    Throwne out to the full length, why let me tell you:
    1060 I ha seene letters sent from that white hand,
    Tuning such mu sicke to Matheos eare.
    Bell. Mathaeo! thats true, but beleeue it, I
    No sooner had laid hold vpon your presence,
    But straight mine eye conueid you to my heart.
    1065 Hipo. Oh, you cannot faine with me, why, I know Lady,
    This is the common pa s sion of you all,
    To hooke in a kind gentleman, and then
    Abuse his coyne, conueying it to your louer,
    And in the end you shew him a french trick,
    1070And so you leaue him, that a coach may run
    Betweene his legs for bredth.
    Bell O by my soule!
    Not I: therein ile proue an hone st whore,
    In being true to one, and to no more.
    1075 Hipo. If any be disposde to tru st your oath,
    Let him: ile not be he, I know you feine
    All that you speake, I: for a mingled harlot,
    Is true in nothing but in being false.
    What! shall I teach you how to loath your selfe?
    1080And mildly too: not without sense or reason.
    Bell. I am content, I would faine loath my selfe,
    If you not loue me.
    Hipo. Then if your gratious blood be not all wa sted,
    I shall a s s ay to doo't.
    1085Lend me your silence, and attention,- you haue no soule,
    That makes you wey so light: heauens treasure bought it,
    And halfe a crowne hath sold it: for your body
    Is like the common shoare, that still receiues
    All the townes filth. The sin of many men
    1090 Is within you, and thus much I suppose,
    That if all your committers stood in ranke,
    Theide make a lane, (in which your shame might dwell)
    And with their spaces reach from hence to hell.
    Nay, shall I vrge it more, there has bene knowne,
    1095As many by one harlot, maym'd and dismembred,
    As would ha stuft an Hospitall: this I might
    Apply to you, and perhaps doe you right:
    O y'are as base as any bea st that beares,
    Your body is ee'ne hirde, and so are theirs.
    1100For gold and sparkling iewels, (if he can)
    Youle let a Iewe get you with chri stian:
    Be he a Moore, a Tartar, tho his face
    Looke vglier then a dead mans scull,
    Could the diuel put on a humane shape,
    1105 If his purse shake out crownes, vp then he gets,
    Whores will be rid to hell with golden bits:
    So that y'are crueller then Turkes, for they
    Sell Chri stians onely, you sell your selues away.
    Why those that loue you, hate you: and will terme you
    1110Lickeri sh damnation: wi sh themselues halfe sunke
    After the sin is laid out, and ee'ne curse
    Their fruitle s s e riot, (for what one begets
    Another poisons) lu st and murder hit,
    A tree being often shooke, what fruit can knit?
    1115 Bell. O me vnhappy!
    Hip. I can vexe you more;
    A harlot is like Dunkirke, true to none,
    Swallowes both Engli sh, Spani sh, fulsome Dutch,
    Blacke-doord Italian, la st of all the French,
    1120And he sticks to you faith: giues you your diet,
    Brings you acquainted, fir st with mon sier Doctor,
    And then you know what followes.
    Bell. Misery.
    Ranke, stinking, and mo st loathsome misery.
    1125 Hip. Me thinks a toad is happier then a whore,
    That with one poison swells, with thousands more
    The other stocks her veines: harlot: fie! fie,
    You are the miserable st Creatures breathing,
    The very slaues of nature: marke me else,
    1130You put on rich attires, others eyes weare them,
    You eat, but to supply your blood with sin,
    And this strange curse ee'ne haunts you to your graues.
    From fooles you get, and spend it vpon slaues:
    Like Beares and Apes, y'are bayted and shew tricks
    1135For money; but your Bawd the sweetne s s e licks.
    Indeed you are their Iourney-women, and doe
    All base and damnd workes they li st set you to:
    So that you n'ere are rich; for doe but shew me,
    In present memory, or in ages pa st,
    1140The fayre st and mo st famous Courtezan,
    Whose fle sh was dear' st; that raisd the price of sin,
    And held it vp; to whose intemperate bosome,
    Princes, Earles, Lords, the wor st has bin a knight,
    The mean' st a Gentleman, haue offred vp
    1145Whole Hecatombs of sighs, & raind in showres
    Handfuls of gold, yet for all this, at la st
    Diseases suckt her marrow, then grew so poore,
    That she has begd, e'ene at a beggers doore.
    And (wherin heau'n has a singer) when this Idoll,
    1150From coa st to coa st, has leapt on forrayne shores,
    And had more wor ship, thē th'outlandi sh whores:
    When seuerall Nations haue gone ouer her,
    When for eache seuerall City she has seene,
    Her Maydenhead has bin new, & bin sold deare:
    1155Did liue wel there, & might haue dyde vnknown,
    And vndefam'd; back comes she to her owne,
    And there both miserably liues and dyes,
    Scornd euen of those, that once ador'd her eyes,
    As if her fatall-circled life, thus ranne,
    1160Her pride should end there, where it fir st began.
    What do you weepe to heare your Story read?
    Nay, if you spoyle your cheeks, Ile read no more.
    Bel. O yes, I pray proceed:
    Indeed 'twill do me good to weepe indeed.
    1165 Hip. To giue those teares a relli sh, this I adde,
    Y'are like the Iewes, scatterd, in no place certain,
    Your daies are tedious, your houres burdensome:
    And wer't not for full suppers, midnight Reuels,
    Dauncing, wine, ryotous meetings, which doe drowne,
    1170And bury quite in you all vertuous thoughts,
    And on your eye-lids hang so heauily,
    They haue no power to looke so high as heauen,
    Youde sit and muse on nothing but despayre,
    Curse that deuil Lu st , that so burnes vp your blood,
    1175And in ten thousand shiuers breake your gla s s e
    For his temptation. Say you ta ste delight,
    To haue a golden Gull from rize to Set,
    To meat you in his hote luxurious armes,
    Yet your nights pay for all: I know you dreame
    1180Of warrants, whips, & Beadles, and then start
    At a dores windy creake: thinke euery Weezle
    To be a Con stable: and euery Rat
    A long tayld Officer: Are you now not slaues?
    Oh you haue damnation without pleasure for it!
    1185Such is the state of Harlots. To conclude,
    When you are old, and can well paynt no more,
    You turne Bawd, and are then worse then before:
    Make vse of this: farewell.
    Bel. Oh, I pray stay.
    1190 Hip. See Matheo comes not: time hath bard me,
    Would all the Harlots in the towne had heard me. Exit.
    Bel. Stay yet a little longer. no: quite gone!
    Cur st be that minute (for it was no more.
    So soone a mayd is chang'd into a Whore)
    1195Wherein I fir st fell, be it for euer blacke;
    Yet why should sweet Hipolito shun mine eyes;
    For whose true loue I would becom pure-hone st,
    Hate the worlds mixtures, & the smiles of gold:
    Am I not fayre? Why should he flye me then?
    1200Faire creatures are de sir'd, not scornd of men.
    How many Gallants haue drunk healthes to me,
    Out of their daggerd armes, & thought thē ble st,
    Enioying but mine eyes at prodigall fea sts!
    And does Hipolito dete st my loue?
    1205Oh, sure their heedle s s e lu sts but flattred me,
    I am not plea sing, beautifull nor young.
    Hipolito hath spyed some vgly blemi sh,
    Eclip sing all my beauties: I am foule:
    Harlot! I, that's the spot that taynts my soule:
    What! has he left 1210his weapon heere behind him,
    And gone forgetfull? O fit in strument
    To let forth all the poyson of my fle sh!
    Thy M. hates me, cause my bloud hath rang'd:
    But whē tis forth, then heele beleeue Ime chāg'd.
    Hip. Mad woman, what art doing? Enter Hipo.
    1215 Bel. Eyther loue me,
    Or split my heart vpon thy Rapiers poynt:
    Yet doe not neyther; for thou then de stroy st
    That which I loue thee for (thy vertues) here, here,
    Th'art crueller, and kil st me with disdayne:
    1220To die so, sheds no bloud, yet tis worse payne. Exit Hipol.
    Not speake to me! not bid farewell! a scorne!
    Hated! this mu st not be, some meanes Ile try.
    Would all Whores were as hone st now, as I. Exeunt.
    SCENA 7.
    1225 Enter Candido, his wife, George, and two Prentices in the
    shop: Fu stigo enters, walking by.
    Geor. See Gentlemen, what you lack? a fine Holland,
    a fine Cambrick, see what you buy.
    1. Pr. Holland for shirts, Cambrick for bands, what i st (you lack?
    1230 Fu st . Sfoot, I lack em all, nay more, I lack money to buy
    em: let me see, let me looke agen: ma s s e this is the shop;
    What Coz! sweet Coz! how do st ifayth, since la st night
    after candlelight? we had good sport ifayth, had we not?
    and when shals laugh agen?
    1235 Wi. When you will, Cozen.
    Fu st . Spoke like a kind Lacedemoniā: I see yonders thy (husband.
    Wi. I, ther's the sweet youth, God ble s s e him.
    Fu st . And how i st Cozen? & how? how i st thou squall?
    Wi. Well, Cozen, how fare you?
    1240 Fu st . How fare I? troth, for sixpence a meale, wench, as
    wel as heart can wi sh, with Calues chaldrons and chitter-
    lings, be sides I haue a Punck after supper, as good as a ro- (a sted Apple.
    Cand. Are you my wiues Cozen?
    Fu st . A am, sir, what ha st thou to do with that?
    1245 Cand. O, nothing but y'are welcome.
    Fu st . The Deuils dung in thy teeth: Ile be welcom whe-
    ther thou wilt or no, I: What Ring's this Coz? very pretty
    and fanta sticall ifayth, lets see it.
    Wife Puh! nay you wrench my finger.
    1250 Fu st . I ha sworne Ile ha't, and I hope you wil not let my
    othes be crackt in the ring, wil you? I hope, sir, you are not
    mallicolly at this for all your great lookes: are you angry?
    Cand. Angry? not I sir, nay, if she can part
    So ea sily with her Ring, tis with my heart.
    1255 Geo. Suffer this, sir, & suffer all, a whoreson Gull, to --,
    Can. Peace, George, whē she has reapt what I haue sown,
    Sheele say, one grayne ta stes better of her owne,
    Then whole sheaues gatherd from anothers land:
    Wit's neuer good, till bought at a deare hand.
    1260 Geo. But in the meane time she makes an A s s e of some (body.
    2. Pren. See, see, see, sir, as you turne your backe, they
    doe nothing but ki s s e.
    Cand. No matter, let 'em: when I touch her lip,
    I shall not feele his ki s s es, no nor mi s s e
    1265Any of her lip: no harme in ki s sing is.
    Looke to your bu sine s s e, pray, make vp your wares.
    Fu st . Troth Coz, and well remembred, I would thou
    would st giue mee fiue yards of Lawne, to make my Punke
    some falling bands a the fa shiō, three falling one vpon ano-
    1270ther: for that's the new editiō now: she's out of linnen hor-
    ribly too, troth, sha's neuer a good smock to her back ney-
    ther, but one that has a great many patches in't, & that I'm
    faine to weare my selfe for want of shift to: prithee put me
    into holesom napery, & be stow some cleane commodities
    1275vpō vs. Wife. Reach me those Cambricks, & the Lawnes
    hither. Cand. What to doe wife? to laui sh out my goods
    vpon a foole?
    Fu st . Foole! Sneales eate the foole, or Ile so batter your
    crowne, that it shall scarce go for fiue shillings.
    1280 2. Pr. Do you heare sir? y'are be st be quiet, & say a foole (tels you so.
    Fu st . Nailes, I think so, for thou tel st me.
    Can. Are you angry sir, because I namde the foole?
    Tru st me, you are not wise, in mine owne house;
    And to my face to play the Anticke thus:
    1285If youle needs play the madman, choose a stage
    Of le s s er compa s s e, where few eyes may note
    Your actions errour; but if still you mi s s e,
    As heere you doe, for one clap, ten will hi s s e.
    Fu st . Zwounds Cozen, he talks to me, as if I were a scur-
    1290uy Tragedian.
    2. pren. Sirra George, I ha thought vpon a deuice, how to
    breake his pate, beat him soundly, and ship him away.
    Geor. Doo't. 2. Pre. Ile go in, pa s s e thorow the house,
    giue some of our fellow Prentices the watch-word when
    1295they shal enter, then come & fetch my ma ster in by a wile,
    and place one in the hall to hold him in conference, whil st
    we cudgell the Gull out of his coxcombe.
    Geor. Doo't: away, doo't.
    Wife. Mu st I call twice for these Cambricks & lawnes?
    1300 Cand. Nay see, you anger her, George, prithee dispatch.
    2. pr. Two of the choise st pieces are in the warehouse sir.
    Cand. Go fetch them presently. Exit 1. prentice.
    Fu st . I, do, make ha ste, sirra.
    Cand. Why were you such a stranger all this while,
    1305being my wiues Cozen?
    Fu st . Stranger? no sir, I me a naturall Millaner borne.
    Can. I perceyue still it is your naturall guize to mi stake
    me, but you are welcom sir, I much wi sh your acquaintāce.
    Fu st . My acquaintance? I scorne that ifayth; I hope my
    1310acquaintance goes in chaines of gold three and fifty times
    double: you know who I meane, Coz, the po sts of his gate
    are a paynting to. Enter the 2. Prentice.
    2. Pren. Signior Pandulfo the Marchāt de sires conference
    with you. Can. Signior Pandulfo? Ile be with him straight.
    1315Attend your mi stris and the Gentleman. Exit.
    Wife. When do you shew those pieces?
    Fu st . I, when doe you shew those pieces?
    Omn. Presently sir, presently, we are but charging thē.
    Fu st . Come sirra, you Flat-cap, where be these whites?
    Geo. Flat-cap? heark in your eare sir, yare a flat foole, an
    1320A s s e, a gull, & Ile thrum you: do you see this cambrick sir?
    Fu st . Sfoot Coz, a good ie st, did you heare him? he told
    me in my eare, I was a flat foole, an A s s e, a Gull, and Ile
    thrumb you: doe you see this Cambrick sir?
    Wi. What, not my men, I hope?
    1325 Fu st . No, not your men, but one of your men ifayth.
    1. Pr. I pray sir, come hither, what say you to this? here
    an excellent good one.
    Fu st . I marry, this likes me well, cut me off some halfe (score yards.
    2. Pr. Let your whores cut, yare an impudent coxcomb,
    1330you get none, & yet Ile thrum you.- A very good Cam-
    brick sir.
    Fu st . Agen, agen, as God iudge me: Sfoot, Coz, they
    stand thrūming here with me all day, & yet I get nothing.
    1. Pr. A word I pray sir, you mu st not be angry, prentices
    1335haue hote blouds, young fellowes,- What say you to this
    piece? looke you, tis so delicate, so soft, so euen, so fine a
    thrid, that a Lady may weare it.
    Fu st . Sfoot I thinke so, if a Knight marry my Punck, a
    Lady shall weare it: cut me off 20. yards: th'art an hone st (lad.
    1340 1. Pr. Not without mony, gull, & ile thrū you to.
    Omn. Gull, weele thrum you.
    Fu st . O Lord, si ster, did you not heare something cry
    thrum? zounds your men here make a plaine A s s e of me.
    Wi. What, to my face so impudent?
    1345 Geor. I, in a cause so hone st, weele not suffer
    Our ma sters goods to vani sh mony le s s e.
    Wife. You will not suffer them.
    2. Pr. No, and you may blu sh,
    In going about to vex so mild a bre st,
    1350As is our ma sters. Wi. Take away those pieces.
    Cozen, I giue them freely.
    Fu st . Ma s s e, and Ile take em as freely.
    Om. Weele make you lay em down agen more freely.
    Wi. Help, help, my brother wilbe murdered. Enter Can.
    1355 Cand. How now, what coyle is here? forbeare, I say.
    Geor. He cals vs Flatcaps, and abuses vs.
    Can. Why, sirs? do such examples flow from me?
    Wi. They are of your keeping sir, alas poore brother.
    Fu st . I fayth they ha pepperd me, si ster: looke, doo st not
    1360 spin? call you these Prentices? Ile nere play at cards more
    whē clubs is trump: I haue a goodly coxcomb, si ster, haue (I not?
    Cand. Si ster and brother, brother to my wife.
    Fu st . If you haue any skill in Heraldry, you may soone
    know that, break but her pate, and you shall see her blood
    1365and mine is all one.
    Can. A Surgeon, run, a Surgeon: Why then wore you
    that forged name of Cozen?
    Fu st . Because its a common thing to call Coz, and min-
    gle now adayes all the world ouer.
    1370 Cand. Cozen! A name of much deceyt, folly and sin,
    For vnder that common abused word,
    Many an hone st tempred Cityzen
    Is made a mon ster, and his wife traynd out
    To foule adulterous action, full of fraud.
    1375I may well call that word, A Cities Bawd.
    Fu st . Troth, brother, my si ster would needs ha me take
    vpon me to gull your patience a little: but it has made
    double Gules on my coxcomb.
    Wife. What, playing the woman? blabbing now you (foole?
    1380 Cand. O, my wife did but exercise a ie st vpon your wit.
    Fu st . Sfoot, my wit bleeds for't, me thinks.
    Cand. Then let this warning more of sence afford.
    The name of Cozen is a bloudy word.
    Fn st . Ile nere call Coz agen whil st I liue, to haue such
    1385a coyle about it: this should be a Coronation day; for my
    head runnes Claret lu stily. Exit. Enter an Officer.
    Can. Go with the Surgeon to haue great respect.
    How now, my friend, what, do they sit to day?
    Off . Yes sir, they expect you at the Senate-house.
    1390 Can. I thāk your paines, Ile not be la st man there. Exit Off .
    My gowne, George, goe, my gowne. A happy land,
    Where graue men meet each cause to vnder stand,
    Whose consciences are not cut out in brybes,
    To gull the poore mans right: but in euen scales,
    1395Peize rich & poore, without corruptions veyles.
    Come, wheres the gowne? Ge. I cannot find the key sir.
    Cand. Reque st it of your mi stris.
    Wife. Come not to me for any key.
    Ile not be troubled to deliuer it.
    1400 Cand. Good wife, kind wife, it is a needfull trouble,
    but for my gowne.
    Wife. Mothes swallow downe your gowne:
    you set my teeth an edge with talking on't.
    Cand. Nay prythee, sweet, I cannot meet without it,
    1405I should haue a great fine set on my head.
    Wife. Set on your coxcomb: tu sh, fine me no fines.
    Can. Beleeue me (sweet) none greets the Senate-house,
    without his Robe of reuerence, that's his Gowne.
    Wife. Wel, then y'are like to cro s s e that cu stome once,
    1410You get nor key, nor gowne, and so depart:
    This trick will vexe him sure, and fret his heart. Exit.
    Cand. Stay, let me see, I mu st haue some deuice,
    My cloke's too short: fy, fy, no cloke will doo't:
    It mu st be something fa shioned like a gowne,
    1415With my armes out: oh George, come hither George,
    I pry thee lend me thine aduice.
    Geor. Troth sir, were it any but you, they would break (open che st.
    Cand. O no, breake open che st! thats a Theeues office:
    Therein you counsell me again st my bloud:
    1420'Twould shew impatience that, any meeke meanes
    I would be glad to imbrace. Ma s s e I haue got it:
    Go, step vp, fetch me downe one of the Carpets,
    The sadde st colourd Carpet, hone st George,
    Cut thou a hole ith middle for my necke,
    1425Two for mine armes, nay prithee looke not strange.
    Geor. I hope you doe not thinke sir, as you meane.
    Cand. Prithee about it quickly, the houre chides me:
    Warily George, softly, take heed of eyes, Exit George.
    Out of two euils hee's accounted wise,
    1430That can picke out the lea st; the Fine imposde
    For an vn-gowned Senator, is about
    Forty Cruzadoes, the Carpet not 'boue foure.
    Thus haue I chosen the le s s er euill yet,
    Preseru'd my patience, foyld her desperate wit.
    1435 Geor. Here, sir, heer's the Carpet. Enter George.
    Cand. O well done, George, weele cut it iu st ith mid st:
    Tis very well I thanke thee, helpe it on.
    Ge. It mu st come ouer your head, sir, like a wenches pe- (ticoate.
    Cand. Th'art in the right, good George, it mu st indeed.
    1440Fetch me a nightcap: for Ile gyrd it close,
    As if my health were queazy: 'twill show well
    For a rude carele s s e night-gowne, wil't not think st?
    Ge. Indifferent wel, sir, for a night-gowne, being girt & (pleated.
    Cand. I, and a night-cap on my head.
    1445 Ge. Thats true sir, Ile run & fetch one, & a staffe. Exit Ge.
    Cand. For thus they cannot chuse but con ster it,
    One that is out of health, takes no delight,
    Weares his apparell without appetite,
    And puts on heedles rayment without forme. Enter Geo.
    1450So so, kind George, be secret now: & prithee do not laugh
    at me till Ime out of sight. Geo. I laugh? not I sir.
    Cand. Now to the Senate-house:
    Methinks, Ide rather weare, without a frowne,
    A patient Carpet, then an angry Gowne. Exit.
    1455 Ge. Now looks my M. iu st like one of our carpet knights,
    only hee's somwhat the hone ster of the two. Enter Can- didoes wife.
    Wi. What, is your ma ster gone?
    Geo. Yes forsooth, his backe is but new turnd.
    Wi. And in his cloke? did he not vexe and sweare?
    1460 Geor. No, but heele make you sweare anon: no indeed,
    hee went away like a lambe.
    Wife. Key sinke to hell: still patient, patient still!
    I am with child to vexe him: prythee George,
    If ere thou look st for fauour at my hands,
    1465Vphold one Ie st for me. Geor. Again st my ma ster?
    Wi. Tis a meere ie st in fayth: say, wilt thou doo't?
    Geor. Well, what i st?
    Wi. Heere, take this key, thou know st where all things (lie,
    Put on thy ma sters be st apparell, Gowne,
    1470Chayne, Cap, Ruffe, euery thing, be like himselfe,
    And 'gain st his comming home, walke in the shop,
    Fayne the same cariage, and his patient looke,
    'Twill breed but a ie st thou know st, speake, wilt thou?
    Geor. 'Twill wrong my ma sters patience.
    1475 Wi. Prythee George. Geor. Well, if youle saue me
    harmle s s e, and put me vnder couert barne, I am content to
    please you prouided it may breed no wrong again st him.
    Wi. No wrong at all: here take the Key, be gone:
    If any vex him, this: if not this, none Exeunt.
    1480 SCENA 8.
    Enter a Bawd and Roger.
    Bawd. O Roger, Roger, where's your mi stris, wher's your
    mi stris? there's the fine st, neate st Gentleman at my house,
    but newly come ouer: O where is she, where is she, where
    1485is she?
    Rog. My mi stris is abroad, but not among st em: my mi-
    stris is not the whore now that you take her for.
    Baw. How? is she not a whore? do you go about to take
    away her good name, Roger? you are a fine Pandar indeed.
    1490 Rog. I tell you, Madona Finger-locke, I am not sad for
    nothing, I ha not eaten one good meale this three & thir-
    ty dayes: I had wont to get sixteene pence by fetching a
    pottle of Hypocras: but now those dayes are pa st: we had
    as good doings, Madona Finger-locke, she within dores and
    1495I without, as any poore yong couple in Millain.
    Baw. Gods my life, and is she chang'd now?
    Rog. I ha lo st by her squeami shne s s e, more then would
    haue builded 12. bawdy houses.
    And had she no time to turn hone st but now? what a vile
    1500woman is this? twenty pound a night, Ile be sworne, Roger,
    in good gold and no siluer: why here was a time, if she
    should ha pickt out a time, it could not be better! gold y-
    nough stirring; choyce of men, choyce of haire, choyce of
    beards, choyce of legs, and choyce of euery, euery, euery
    1505thing: it cannot sink into my head, that she should be such
    an A s s e. Roger, I neuer beleeue it.
    Rog. Here she comes now. Enter Bellafronte.
    Baw. O sweet Madona, on with your loose gowne, your
    felt & your feather, there's the sweete st, propre st, gallante st
    1510Gentleman at my house, he smells all of Muske & Amber
    greece, his pocket full of Crownes, flame-colourd dublet,
    red satin hose, Carnation silk stockins, and a leg and a bo-
    dy, oh!
    Bel. Hence, thou our sexes mon ster, poysonous Bawd,
    1515Lu sts Factor, and damnations Orator,
    Go s sip of hell, were all the Harlots sinnes
    Which the whole world conteynes, numbred together,
    Thine farre exceeds them all; of all the creatures
    That euer were created, thou art base st:
    1520What serpent would beguile thee of thy Office?
    It is dete stable: for thou liu' st
    Vpon the dregs of Harlots, guard' st the dore,
    Whil st couples goe to dauncing: O course deuill!
    Thou art the ba stards curse, thou brand st his birth,
    1525The lechers French disease; for thou dry-suck st him:
    The Harlots poyson, and thine owne confu sion.
    Baw. Mary come vp with a pox, haue you no body to
    raile again st, but your Bawd now?
    Bel. And you, Knaue Pandar, kinsman to a Bawd.
    1530 Rog. You and I Madona, are Cozens.
    Bel. Of the same bloud and making, neere allyed,
    Thou, that slaue to sixpence, base-mettald villayne.
    Rog. Sixpence? nay that's not so; I neuer took vnder two
    shillings foure pence, I hope I know my fee.
    1535 Bel. I know not again st which mo st to inueigh:
    For both of you are damnd so equally.
    Thou neuer spar' st for oathes: swear st any thing,
    As if thy soule were made of shoe-leather.
    God dam me, Gentleman, if she be within,
    1540When in the next roome she's found dallying.
    Rog. If it be my vocation to sweare, euery man in his vo-
    cation: I hope my betters sweare and dam themselues, and
    why should not I? Bel. Roger, you cheat kind gentlemen?
    Rog. The more gulls they.
    1545 Bel. Slaue, I ca sheere thee.
    Baw. And you do ca sheere him, he shalbe entertaynd.
    Rog. Shall I? then blurt a your seruice.
    Bel. As hell would haue it, entertaynd by you!
    I dare the deuill himselfe to match those two. Exit.
    1550 Baw. Mary gup, are you growne so holy, so pure, so ho-
    ne st with a pox?
    Rog. Scuruy hone st Punck! But stay Madona, how mu st
    our agreement be now? for you know I am to haue all the
    commings in at the hall dore, & you at the chamber dore.
    1555 Ba. True Rog. except my vailes. Rog. Vailes, what vailes?
    Ba. Why as thus, if a couple come in a Coach, & light to
    lie down a little, then Roger, thats my fee, & you may walk
    abroad; for the Coach man himselfe is their Pandar.
    Ro. Is a so? in truth I haue almo st forgot, for want of ex-
    1560ercise: But how if I fetch this Citizens wife to that Gull, &
    that Madona to that Gallant, how then?
    Ba. Why then, Roger, you are to haue sixpence a lane,
    so many lanes, so many sixpences.
    Ro. I st so? thē I see we two shall agree and liue together.
    1565 Ba. I Roger, so long as there be any Tauernes and baw-
    dy houses in Millain. Exeunt.
    SCENA 9.
    Enter Bellafronte with a Lute, pen, inke and paper
    being placde before her.
    1570 Song.
    THe Courtiers flattring Iewels,
    (Temptations onely fewels)
    The Lawyers ill-got monyes,
    That sucke vp poore Bees Honyes:
    1575 The Citizens sonne's ryot,
    The gallant co stly dyet:
    Silks and Veluets, Pearles and Ambers,
    Shall not draw me to their Chambers. Shee writes.
    Silks and Veluets, &c.
    1580Oh, tis in vayne to write: it will not please,
    Inke on this paper would ha but presented
    The foule blacke spots that sticke vpon my soule,
    And rather make me lothsomer, then wrought
    My loues impre s sion in Hipolitoes thought.
    1585No, I mu st turne the cha ste leaues of my bre st,
    And pick out some sweet meanes to breed my re st.
    Hipolito, beleeue me I will be
    As true vnto thy heart, as thy heart to thee,
    And hate all men, their gifts and company.
    1590 Enter Matheo, Ca struchio, Fluello, Pioratto.
    Mat. You, goody Punck, subandi Cockatrice, O yare a
    sweet whore of your promise, are you not think you? how
    wel you came to supper to vs la st night: mew, a whore &
    breake her word! nay you may blu sh, & hold downe your
    1595head at it wel ynough: Sfoot, aske these gallants if we staid
    not till we were as hungry as Seriants.
    Flu. I, and their Yeoman too.
    Ca st . Nay fayth Acquaintance, let me tell you, you forgat
    your selfe too much: we had excellēt cheere, rare vintage,
    1600and were drunke after supper.
    Pior. And when wee were in our Woodcocks (sweete
    Rogue) a brace of Gulles, dwelling here in the City, came
    in & payd all the shot. Mat. Pox on her, let her alone.
    Bel. O, I pray doe, if you be Gentlemen:
    1605I pray depart the house; be shrew the dore
    For being so ea sily entreated: fayth,
    I lent but little eare vnto your talke,
    My mind was bu sied otherwise in troth,
    And so your words did vnregarded pa s s e:
    1610Let this suffice, I am not as I was.
    Flu. I am not what I was! no Ile be sworne thou art not:
    for thou wert hone st at fiue, & now th'art a Puncke at fif-
    teene: thou wert ye sterday a simple whore, and now th'art
    a cunning Conny-catching Baggage to day.
    1615 Bel. Ile say Ime worse, I pray forsake me then,
    I doe de sire you leaue me, Gentlemen,
    And leaue your selues: O be not what you are,
    (Spendthrifts of soule and body)
    Let me perswade you to forsake all Harlots,
    1620Worse thē the deadlie st poysons, they are worse:
    For o're their soules hangs an eternall curse,
    In being slaues to slaues, their labours peri sh,
    Th'are seldome ble st with fruit; for ere it blo s s oms,
    Many a worme confounds it.
    1625They haue no i s s ue but foule vgly ones,
    That run along with them, e'ene to their graues:
    For stead of children, they breed ranke diseases,
    And all, you Gallants, can be stow on them,
    Is that French Infant, which n'ere acts but speaks:
    1630What shallow sonne & heire then, fooli sh gallāt,
    Would wa ste all his inheritance, to purchase
    A filthy loathd disease? and pawne his body
    To a dry euill: that vsurie's wor st of all,
    When th'intere st will eate out the principall.
    1635 Mat. Sfoot, she guls em the be st: this is alwaies
    her fa shion, when she would be rid of any com-
    pany that she cares not for, to inioy mine alone.
    Flu. Whats here? in structions, Admonitions, and Caue-
    ats? come out, you scabberd of vengeance.
    1640 Mat. Fluello, spurne your hounds when they fy ste, you
    shall not spurne my Punk, I can tell you my bloud is vext.
    Flu. Pox a your bloud: make it a quarrell.
    Mat. Y'are a Slaue, will that serue turne?
    Omn. Sbloud, hold, hold.
    1645 Ca st . Matheo, Fluello, for shame put vp.
    Mat. Spurne my sweet Varlet!
    Bel. O how many thus
    Mou'd with a little folly, haue let out
    Their soules in Brothell houses, fell downe and dyed
    1650Iu st at their Harlots foot, as 'twere in pride.
    Flu. Matheo, we shall meet.
    Mat. I, I, any where, sauing at Church: pray take heed
    we meet not there.
    Flu. Adue, Damnation.
    1655 Ca st . Cockatrice, farewell.
    Pi. There's more deceit in women, then in hel. Exeunt,
    Mat. Ha, ha, thou doe st gull em so rarely, so naturally: if
    I did not think thou had st bin in earne st: thou art a sweet
    Rogue for't ifayth.
    1660 Bel. Why are not you gone to, Signior Matheo?
    I pray depart my house: you may beleeue me,
    In troth I haue no part of Harlot in me.
    Mat. How's this?
    Bel. Indeed I loue you not: but hate you worse
    1665Then any man, because you were the fir st
    Gaue money for my soule; you brake the Ice,
    Which after turnd a puddle: I was led
    By your temptation to be miserable:
    I pray seeke out some other that will fall,
    1670Or rather (I pray) seeke out none at all.
    Mat. I st po s sible, to be impossible, an hone st whore! I
    haue heard many hone st wenches turne Strumpets with
    a wet finger; but for a Harlot to turne hone st, is one of Her-
    cules labours: It was more ea sie for him in one night to
    1675make fifty queanes, then to make one of them hone st a-
    gen in fifty yeeres: come, I hope thou doo st but ie st.
    Bel. Tis time to leaue off ie sting, I had almo st
    Ie sted away Saluation: I shall loue you,
    If you will soone forsake me.
    1680 Mat. God buy thee.
    Bel. Oh, tempt no more womē: shun their weighty curse,
    Women (at be st) are bad, make them not worse,
    You gladly seeke our sexes ouerthrow:
    But not to rayse our states for all your wrongs.
    1685Will you vouchsafe me but due recompence,
    To marry with me?
    Mat. How, marry with a Punck, a Cockatrice, a Har-
    lot? mary foh, Ile be burnt thorow the nose fir st.
    Bel. Why la? these are your othes you loue to vndo vs,
    1690To put heauen from vs, whil st our be st houres wa ste:
    You loue to make vs lewd, but neuer cha ste.
    Mat. Ile heare no more of this: this ground vpon,
    Th'art damn'd for altring thy Religion. Exit.
    Bel. Thy lu st and sin speake so much: go thou my ruine,
    1695The fir st fall my soule tooke; by my example
    I hope few maydens now will put their heads
    Vnder mens girdels: who lea st tru sts, is mo st wise:
    Mens othes do ca st a mi st before our eyes.
    My be st of wit be ready: now I goe,
    1700By some deuice to greet Hipolito.
    SCENA 10.
    Enter a seruant setting out a Table, on which he places
    a scull, a picture, a booke and a Taper.
    Ser. So, this is Monday morning, and now mu st I to my
    1705huswifry: would I had bin created a Shoomaker; for all the
    gentle craft are gentlemen euery Monday by their Copy,
    & scorne (then) to worke one true stitch. My M. meanes
    sure to turne me into a student; for here's my booke, here
    my deske, here my light; this my close chamber, and heere
    1710my Punck: so that this dull drowzy fir st day of the weeke,
    makes me halfe a Prie st, halfe a Chandler, halfe a paynter,
    halfe a Sexton, I & halfe a Bawd: for (all this day) my office
    is to do nothing but keep the dore. To proue it, looke you,
    this good-face & yonder gentleman (so soone as euer my
    1715back's turnd) wil be naught together. Enter Hipolito.
    Hip. Are all the windowes shut? Ser. Close sir, as the fi st
    of a Courtier that hath stood in three raignes.
    Hip. Thou art a faythfull seruant, and obseru' st
    The Calender, both of my solemne vowes,
    1720And ceremonious sorrow: Get thee gone,
    I charge thee on thy life, let not the sound
    Of any womans voyce pierce through that dore.
    Ser. If they do, my Lord, Ile pearce some of them.
    What will your Lord ship haue to breakfa st?
    1725 Hip. Sighs. Ser. What to dinner? Hip. Teares.
    Ser. The one of them, my Lord, will fill you too full of
    wind, the other wet you too much. What to supper?
    Hip. That which (now) thou can st not get me, the con-
    stancy of a woman.
    1730 Ser. Indeed thats harder to come by then euer was
    O stend.
    Hip. Prythee away.
    Ser. Ile make away my selfe presently, which few Ser-
    uants will doe for their Lords; but rather helpe to make
    1735them away: Now to my dore-keeping, I hope to picke
    something out of it. Exit.
    Hip. My Infelices face: her brow, her eye,
    The dimple on her cheeke: and such sweet skill,
    Hath from the cunning workemans pencill flowne,
    1740These lippes looke fre sh and liuely as her owne,
    Seeming to mooue and speake. Las! now I see,
    The reason why fond women loue to buy
    Adulterate complexion: here 'tis read,
    False coulours la st after the true be dead.
    1745Of all the Roses grafted on her cheekes,
    Of all the graces dauncing in her eyes,
    Of all the Mu sick set vpon her tongue,
    Of all that was pa st womans excellence,
    In her white bosome, looke! a painted board,
    1750Circumscribes all: Earth can no bli s s e affoord.
    Nothing of her, but this? this cannot speake,
    It has no lap for me to re st vpon,
    No lip worth ta sting: here the wormes will feed,
    As in her coffin: hence then idle Art,
    1755True loue's be st picturde in a true-loues heart.
    Here art thou drawne sweet maid, till this be dead,
    So that thou liu' st twice, twice art buried.
    Thou figure of my friend, lye there. Whats here?
    Perhaps this shrewd pate was mine enimies:
    1760Las! say it were: I need not feare him now:
    For all his braues, his contumelious breath,
    His frownes (tho dagger-pointed) all his plot,
    (Tho 'nere so mischieuous) his Italian pilles,
    His quarrels, and (that common fence) his law,
    1765See, see, they're all eaten out; here's not left one?
    How cleane they're pickt away! to the bare bone!
    How mad are mortals then to reare great names
    On tops of swelling houses? or to weare out
    Their fingers ends (in durt,) to scrape vp gould!
    1770Not caring so (that Sumpter-horse) the back
    Be hung with gawdy trappings, with what course,
    Yea rags mo st beggerly, they cloath the soule:
    Yet (after all) their Gay-nes lookes thus foule.
    What fooles are men to build a gari sh tombe,
    1775Onely to saue the carca s s e whil st it rots,
    To maintein't long in stincking, make good carion,
    But leaue no good deeds to preserue them sound,
    For good deedes keepe men sweet, long aboue ground,
    And mu st all come to this; fooles; wise, all hether,
    1780Mu st all heads thus at la st be laid together:
    Draw me my picture then, thou graue neate workeman,
    After this fa shion, not like this; these coulours
    In time ki s sing but ayre, will be ki st off,
    But heres a fellow; that which he layes on,
    1785Till doomes day, alters not complexion.
    Deaths' the be st Painter then: They that draw shapes,
    And liue by wicked faces, are but Gods Apes,
    They come but neere the life, and there they stay,
    This fellow drawes life to: his Art is fuller,
    1790The pictures which he makes are without coulour.
    Enter his seruant.
    Ser. Heres a person would speake with you Sir.
    Hip. Hah!
    Ser. A parson sir would speake with you.
    1795 Hip. Vicar?
    Ser. Vicar? no sir, has too good a face to be a Vicar yet, a
    youth, a very youth.
    Hip. What youth? of man or woman? lock the dores.
    Ser. If it be a woman, mary-bones and Potato pies keepe
    1800me for medling with her, for the thing has got the breeches,
    tis a male-varlet sure my Lord, for a womans tayler nere
    measurd him.
    Hip. Let him giue thee his me s s age and be gone.
    Ser. He sayes hees signior Mathaeos man, but I know he
    1805lyes.
    Hip. How doe st thou know it?
    Ser. Cause has nere a beard: tis his boy I thinke sir, who-
    soere paide for his nur sing.
    Hip. Send him and keepe the doore. Reades.
    1810 Fata si liceat mihi,
    Fingere arbitrio meo,
    Temperem Zephyro leuivela.
    Ide saile were I to choose, not in the Ocean,
    Cedars are shaken, when shrubs doe feele no bruize.
    1815 Enter Bellafronte like a Page.
    How? from Mathaeo.
    Bell. Yes my Lord.
    Hip. Art sick?
    Bell. Not all in health my Lord.
    1820 Hip. Keepe off.
    Bell. I do:
    Hard fate when women are compeld to wooe.
    Hip. This paper does speake nothing.
    Bell. Yes my Lord,
    1825Matter of life it speakes, and therefore writ
    In hidden Caracter; to me iu struction
    My mai ster giues, And (le s s e you please to stay
    Till you both meet) I can the text display.
    Hip. Doe so: read out.
    1830 Bell. I am already out:
    Looke on my face, and read the strange st story!
    Hip. What villaine, ho? Enter his seruant.
    Ser. Call you my Lord?
    Hip. Thou slaue, thou ha st let in the diuell.
    1835 Ser. Lord ble s s e vs, where? hees not clouen my Lord that
    I can see: be sides the diuell goes more like a Gentleman
    than a Page: good my Lord Boon couragio .
    Hip. Thou ha st let in a woman, in mans shape.
    And thou art dambd for't.
    1840 Ser. Not dambd I hope for putting in a woman to a Lord.
    Hip. Fetch me my Rapier,--do not: I shall kill thee.
    Purge this infected chamber of that plague,
    That runnes vpon me thus: Slaue, thru st her hence.
    Ser. Alas my Lord, I shall neuer be able to thru st her hence
    1845without helpe: come Mermaid you mu st to Sea agen.
    Bell. Here me but speake, my words shall be all Mu sick:
    Here me but speake.
    Hip. Another beates the dore,
    T'other Shee-diuell, looke.
    1850 Ser. Why then hell's broke loose. Exit.
    Hip. Hence, guard the chamber: let no more come on,
    One woman serues for mans damnation.
    Be shrew thee, thou doo st make me violate,
    The cha ste st and mo st sanctimonious vow,
    1855That ere was entred in the court of heauen:
    I was on meditations spottles wings,
    vpon my iorney thether; like a storme
    Thou beats my ripened cogitations,
    flat to the ground: and like a theife doo st stand,
    1860To steale deuotion from the holy land.
    Bel. If woman were thy mother; if thy hart,
    Bee not all Marble, (or ift Marble be)
    Let my teares soften it, to pitty me,
    I doe beseech the doe not thus with scorne,
    1865De stroy a woman.
    Hip. Woman I beseech thee,
    Get thee some other suite, this fits thee not,
    I would not grant it to a kneeling Queene,
    I cannot loue thee, nor I mu st not: See,
    1870The copy of that obligation,
    Where my soule's bound in heauy penalties.
    Bel. She's dead you told me, shele let fal her suite.
    Hip. My vowes to her, fled after her to heauen,
    Were thine eyes cleere as mine, thou might st behold her,
    1875Watching vpon yon battlements of starres,
    How I obserue them: should I breake my bond,
    This bord would riue in twaine, these wooden lippes
    Call me mo st periurde villaine, let it suffice,
    I ha set thee in the path; I st not a signe,
    1880I loue thee, when with one so mo st mo st deare,
    Ile haue thee fellowes? All are fellowes there.
    Bel. Be greater then a king, saue not a body,
    But from eternall shipwracke keepe a soule,
    If not, and that againe, sinnes path I tread,
    1885The griefe be mine, the guilt fall on thy head.
    Hip. Stay and take Phi sicke for it, read this booke,
    Aske counsell of this head whats to be done,
    Hele strike it dead that tis damnation,
    If you turne turke againe, oh doe it not,
    1890The heauen cannot allure you to doe well
    From doing ill let hell fright you: and learne this,
    The soule whose bosome lu st did neuer touch,
    Is Gods faire bride, and maidens soules are such:
    The soule that leauing cha stities white shore,
    1895Swims in hot sensuall streames, is the diuels whore,
    How now: who comes. Enter his seruant.
    Ser. No more knaues my Lord that weare smocks: heres
    a letter from doctor Benedict ; I would not enter his man, tho
    he had haires at his mouth, for feare he should be a woman, for
    1900 some women haue beardes, mary they are halfe witches,
    Slid you are a sweete youth to weare a codpeece, and haue no
    pinnes to sticke vpont.
    Hip. Ile meete the doctor, tell him, yet to night
    I cannot: but at morrow ri sing Sunne
    1905I will not faile: go: woman fare thee well. Exeunt.
    Bel. The lowe st fall can be but into hell,
    It does not moue him. I mu st therefore fly,
    From this vndoing Cittie, and with teares,
    Wa sh off all anger from my fathers brow,
    1910He cannot sure but ioy seeing me new borne,
    A woman hone st fir st and then turne whore,
    Is (as with me) common to thousands more,
    But from a strumpet to turne cha st: that sound,
    Has oft bin heard, that woman hardly found. Exit.
    1915 11. SCE. Enter Fu stigo, Crambo and Poli.
    Fus . Hold vp your hands gentlemen: heres one, two, three,
    (nay I warrant they are sound pi stols, and without flawes, I
    had them (of my si ster, and I know she vses to put nothing
    thats crackt,) three, foure, fiue, sixe, seuen, eight and nine, by
    1920this hand bring me but a piece of his bloud. and you shall
    haue 9. more. Ile lurke in a tauerne not far off, & prouide sup-
    per to close vp the end of the Tragedy, the linnen drapers re-
    mēber- stand toot I beseech you, & play your partes perfectly.
    Cram. Looke you Signior, tis not your golde that we way.
    1925 Fu st . Nay, nay, way it and spare not, if it lacke one graine of (corne;
    Ile giue you a bu shell of wheate to make it vp.
    Cram. But by your fauour Signior, which of the seruants
    is it, because wele puni sh iu stly.
    Fu st . Mary tis the head man; you shall ta st him by his
    1930tongue a pretty tall prating felow, with a Tuscalonian beard.
    Po. Tuscalonian: very good.
    Fu st . Cods life I was neere so thrumbd since I was a gentle-
    man: my coxcombe was dry beaten as if my haire had beene
    hemp. Cram. Wele dry beate some of them.
    1935 Fu st . Nay it grew so high, that my si ster cryed murder out
    very manfully: I haue her consent in a manner to haue him
    pepperd, els ile not doot to win more then ten cheaters do at a
    rifling: breake but his pate or so, onely his mazer, because
    ile haue his head in a cloath aswell as mine, hees a linnen dra-
    1940per and may take enough. I could enter mine action of batte-
    ry again st him, but we may haps be both dead and rotten be-
    fore the lawyers would end it.
    Cram. No more to doe, but insconce your selfe i'th taueren;
    prouide no great cheare, couple of Capons, some Phesants,
    1945Plouers, an Oringeado-pie or so: but how bloudy soere the
    day be, sally you not forth.
    Fu st . No, no, nay if I stir, some body shal stinke: ile not budge:
    ile lie like a dog in a manger.
    Cram. Well, well, to the tauerne, let not our supper be raw,
    1950for you shall haue blood enough-your belly full.
    Fu st . Thats all so god sa me, I thir st after, bloud for bloud,
    bump for bump, nose for nose, head for head, pla ster for pla-
    ster, and so farewell: what shall I call your names because ile
    leaue word, if any such come to the barre.
    1955 Cram. My name is Corporall Crambo.
    Poh. and mine, Lieutenant Poh. Exeunt.
    Cram. Poli. Is as tall a man as euer opened Oy ster: I would
    not be the diuell to meete Poh, farewell.
    Fu st . Nor I by this light, if Poh be such a Poh. Exeunt.
    1960 Enter Condidoes wife, in her shop, and the
    two Premises.
    Wife. Whats a clocke now.
    2. Pren. Tis almo st 12.
    Wife. Thats well.
    1965The Senate will leaue wording presently:
    But is George ready,
    2. Pre. Yes forsooth, hees furbu sht.
    Wife. Now as you euer hope to win my fauour,
    Throw both your duties and respects on him,
    1970With the like awe as if he were your mai ster,
    Let not your lookes betray it with a smile,
    Or ieering glaunce to any cu stomer,
    Keepe a true Setled countenance, and beware,
    You laugh not whatsoeuer you heare or see.
    1975 2. Pren. I warrant you mi stris, let vs alone for keeping our
    countenance: for if I li st, theres neuer a foole in all Myllan shal
    make me laugh, let him play the foole neuer so like an A s s e,
    whether it be the fat Court foole, or the leane Cittie foole.
    Wife. enough then, call downe George.
    1980 2. Pren. I heare him comming.
    Enter George.
    Wife. Be redy with your legs then let me see,
    How curtzy would become him: gallantly!
    Be shrew my bloud a proper seemely man,
    1985Of a choice carriage walkes with a good port,
    Geo. I thanke you mi stris, my back's broad enough, now
    my Mai sters gown's on.
    Wif Sure I should thinke it were the lea st of sin,
    To mi stake the mai ster, and to let him in.
    1990 Geo. Twere a good Comedy of errors that yfaith.
    2. Pre. whi st, whi st, my mai ster.
    Enter Candido, and Exit presently.
    Wif. You all know your taskes: gods my life, whats that
    hee has got vpon's backe? who can tell?
    1995 Geo. That can I, but I will not.
    Wife. Girt about him like a mad-man: what: has he
    lo st his cloake too: this is the madde st fa shion that ere I
    saw.
    What said he George when he pasde by thee?
    Geo. Troth Mi stris nothing: not so much as a Bee, he did
    2000not hum: not so much as a bawd he did not hem: not so
    much as a Cuekold he did not ha: neither hum, hem, nor ha,
    onely starde me in the face, pa st along, and made ha st in, as if
    my lookes had workt with him, to giue him a stoole.
    Wi. Sure hees vext now, this trick has mou'd his Spleene,
    2005Hees angred now, because he vttred nothing:
    And wordle s s e wrath breakes out more violent,
    May be heele striue for place, when he comes downe,
    But if thou lou' st me George, affoord him none.
    Geo. Nay let me alone to play my mai sters prize, as long as
    2010my Mi stri s s e warrants me: Ime sure I haue his be st clothes
    on, and I scorne to giue place to any that is inferiour in appa-
    rell to me, thats an Axiom, a principle, & is obseru'd as much
    as the fa shion; let that perswade you then, that Ile shoulder
    with him for the vpper hand in the shop, as long as this
    2015chaine will mainteine it.
    Wi. Spoke with the spirit of a Mai ster, tho with the
    tongue of a Prentise.
    Enter Candido like a Prentise.
    Why how now mad-man? what in your trick sicoates!
    2020 Cand. O peace good Mi stri s s e:
    Enter Crambo and Poli.
    See what you lack, what i st you buy? pure Callicoes, fine
    Hollands, choise Cambrickes, neate Lawnes: see what you
    buy? pray come neere, my Mai ster will vse you well, hee can
    2025affoord you a pennyworth.
    Wi. I that he can, out of a whole peece of Lawne yfaith.
    Cand. Pray see your choise here Gentlemen.
    Wi. O fine foole? what a mad-man? a patient mad-man?
    who euer heard of the like? well sir Ile fit you and your hu-
    2030mour presently: what? cro s s e-points, Ile vntie em all in a trice,
    Ile vex you faith: Boy take your cloake, quick, come. Exit.
    Cand.Be couered George, this chaine, and welted gowne,
    Bare to this coate: then the worlds vp side downe.
    Geo. Vmh, vmh, hum.
    2035 Cram. Thats the shop, and theres the fellow.
    Poli. I but the Mai ster is walking in there.
    Cram. No matter, weele in.
    Poh. Sbloud doe st long to lye in Limbo?
    Cram. And Limbo be in hell, I care not.
    2040 Cand. Looke you Gentlemen, your choise: Cambricks?
    Cramb. No sir, some shirting.
    Cand. You shall.
    Cram. Haue you none of this strip'd Canuas for doublets.
    Cand. None strip'd sir, but plaine.
    2045 2. Pren. I thinke there be one peece strip'd within.
    Geo. Step sirra and fetch it, hum, hum hum.
    Cand. Looke you Gentlemen, Ile make but one spred-
    ding, heres a peece of cloth, fine, yet shall weare like Yron, tis
    without fault, take this vpon my word, tis without fault.
    2050 Cram. Then tis better than you sirra.
    Cand. I, and a number more, ô that each soule
    Were but as spotle s s e as this Innocent white,
    And had as few brakes in it.
    Cram. Twould haue some then: there was a fray here la st
    2055day in this shop.
    Cand. There was indeed a little flea-biting.
    Poh. A Gentleman had his pate broake, call you that but
    a flea-biting.
    Cand. He had so.
    2060 Cram. Zownes doe you stand in't? He strikes him.
    Geo. Sfoot clubs, clubs, prentices, downe with em, ah you
    roagues, strike a Citizen in's shop.
    Cand. None of you stir I pray, forbeare good George.
    Cram. I beseech you sir, we mi stooke our markes, deliuer
    2065vs our weapons.
    Geo. Your head bleeds sir, cry clubs.
    Cand. I say you shall not, pray be patient,
    Giue them their weapons, sirs you're be st be gone,
    I tell you here are boyes more tough then Beares:
    2070Hence, lea st more fi sts do walke about your eares.
    Both. We thanke you sir. Exeunt,
    Gan. You shall not follow them.
    Let them alone pray, this did me no harme,
    Troth I was cold, and the blow made me warme,
    2075I thanke em for't: be sides I had decreed
    To haue a vaine prickt, I did meane to bleede,
    So that theres mony sau'd: they are hone st men,
    Pray vse em well, when they appeare agen.
    Geo. Yes sir, weele vse em like hone st men.
    2080 Cand. I well said George, like hone st men, tho they be ar-
    rant knaues, for thats the praise of the citty; helpe to lay vp
    these wares
    Enter his wife, with Officers.
    Wife. Yonder he stands.
    2085 Off What in a Prentise-coate?
    Wif. I, I, mad, mad, pray take heed.
    Cand. How now? what newes with them? what make they
    with my wife? officers is she attachd? looke to your wares.
    Wif. He talkes to himselfe, oh hees much gone indeed.
    2090 Off . Pray pluck vp a good heart, be not so fearfull,
    Sirs hearke, weele gather to him by degrees.
    Wi. I, I, by degrees I pray: oh me! what makes he with
    the Lawne in his hand, heele teare all the ware in my shop.
    Off . Feare not weele catch him on a sudden.
    2095 Wi. O you had need do so, pray take heed of your warrant
    Off . I warrant mi stris.-- Now Signior Candido?
    Cand. Now sir, what newes with you sir?
    Wi. What newes with you he sayes: oh hees far gon.
    Off . I pray feare nothing, lets alone with him,
    2100Signior, you looke not like your selfe me thinkes,
    (Steale you a tother side) y'are changde, y'are altred.
    Cand. Changde sir, why true sir, is change strange, tis not
    the fa shion vnle s s e it alter: Monarkes turne to beggers; beg-
    gers creepe into the ne sts of Princes, Mai sters serue their
    2105prentises: Ladies their Seruingmen, men turne to women.
    Off And women turne to men.
    Cand. I, and women turne to men, you say true, ha ha, a
    mad world, a mad world.
    Off . Haue we caught you sir?
    2110 Cand. Caught me: well, well: you haue caught: me.
    Wi. Hee laughes in your faces.
    Geo. A rescue Prentises, my mai ster's catch-pold.
    Off . I charge you keepe the peace, or haue your legs gar-
    tered with Yrons, we haue from the Duke a warrant strong
    2115enough for what we doe.
    Cand. I pray re st quiet, I de sire no rescue.
    Wi. La: he de sires no rescue, las poore heart,
    He talkes again st himselfe.
    Cand. Well, whats the matter?
    2120 Off . Looke to that arme,
    Pray make sure worke, double the cord.
    Cand. Why, why?
    Wi. Looke how his head goes! should he get but loose,
    Oh twere as much as all our liues were worth.
    2125 Off . Feare not, weele make all sure for our owne safetie.
    Cand. Are you at leisure now? well, whats the matter?
    Why do I enter into bonds thus? ha?
    Off . Because y'are mad, put feare vpon your wife.
    Wi. Oh I, I went in danger of my life, euery minute.
    2130 Cand. What? am I mad say you, and I not know it?
    Off . That proues you mad, because you know it not.
    Wi. Pray talke as little to him as you can,
    You see hees too farre spent.
    Cand. Bound with strong corde,
    2135A Ci sters thred yfaith had beene enough,
    To lead me any where: Wife do you long?
    You are mad too, or els you do me wrong.
    Geo. But are you mad indeed Mai ster?
    Cand. My Wife sayes so,
    2140And what she sayes; George, is all trueth you know:
    And whether now? to Bethlem Mona stery?--ha! whether?
    Off . Faith eene to the mad-mens pound.
    Cand. A Gods name, still I feele my patience sound. Exe.
    Geo. Come weele see whether he goes, if the mai ster be
    2145mad, we are his seruants, and mu st follow his steps, weele
    be mad caps too; Farewell mi stri s s e, you shall haue vs all in
    Bedlam. Exeunt.
    Wi. I thinke, I ha fitted now, you and your clothes,
    If this moue not his patience, nothing can,
    2150Ile sweare then I haue a saint, and not a man Exit.
    13. SCE.
    Enter Duke: Doctor: Fluello, Ca struchio, Pioratto.
    Duk. giue vs a little leaue. Doctor your newes.
    Doc. I sent for him my Lord: at la st he came,
    2155And did receiue all speech that went from me,
    As gilded pilles made to prolong his health:
    My credit with him wrought it: for, some men.
    Swallow euen empty hookes, like fooles. that feare
    No drowning where tis deepe st, Cause tis cleare:
    2160In th'end we sat and eate: a health I dranke
    To Infaelices sweete departed soule,
    (This traine I knew would take.)
    Duk. Twas excellent.
    Doc. He fell with such deuotion on his knees,
    2165To pledge the same.
    Duk. Fond super stitious foole?
    Doc. That had he beene inflam'd with zeale of prayer,
    He could not power't out with more reuerence.
    About my necke he hung, wept on my cheeke,
    2170Ki st it, and swore, he would adore my lippes,
    Because they brought forth Infaelices name.
    Duk. Ha, ha, alacke, alacke.
    Doc. The cup he lifs vp high, and thus he said,
    Here noble maid: drinkes, and was poisoned.
    2175 Duk. and died?
    Doc. And died my Lord.
    Duk. Thou in that word,
    Ha st peied mine aged houres out with more yeares,
    Than thou ha st taken from Hipolito,
    2180A noble youth he was, but le s s er branches
    Hindring the greaters growth, mu st be lopt off,
    And feede the fire: Doctor w'are now all thine,
    And vse vs so: be bold.
    Doc. Thankes gracious Lord:
    2185My honoured Lord:
    Duk. hmh.
    Doc. I doe beseech your grace to bury deepe,
    This bloudy act of mine.
    Duk. Nay, nay, for that,
    2190Doctor looke you toot: me it shall not moue,
    Thei'r cur st that ill doe, not that ill do loue,
    Doc. You throw an angry forehead on my face,
    But be you pleas'd, backward thus for to looke,
    That for your good, this euill I vndertooke,
    2195 Duk. I, I, we con ster so:
    Doc. And onely for your loue.
    Duk. Confe st: tis true.
    Doc. Nor let it stand again st me as a bar,
    To thru st me from your presence: nor beleeue
    2200(As Princes haue quicke thoughts,) that now my finger
    Being deept in blood, I will not spare the hand,
    But that for gold (as what can golde not doe?)
    I may be hi'rde to worke the like on you,
    Duk. Which to preuent.
    2205 Doc. Tis from my hart as far.
    Duk. No matter Doctor, cause ile feareles sleepe,
    And that you shall stand cleare of that suspition
    I bani sh thee for euer from my court.
    This principle is olde but true as fate,
    2210Kings may loue treason, but the traitor hate, Exit.
    Doc. I st so: nay then Duke, your stale principle
    With one as stale, the Doctor thus shall quit,
    He fals himselfe that digs anothers pit,
    How now: where is he? will he meete me:
    2215 Enter the Doctors man.
    Doc. man, meete you sir, he might haue met with three
    fencers in this time and haue receiued le s s e hurt then by mee-
    ting one Doctor of Phi sicke: why sir has walkt vnder the olde
    Abbey wall yonder this houre, till hees more colde then a
    2220Cittizens country house in Ianiuere, you may smell him be-
    hinde sir; la you: yonder he comes.
    Doc. leaue me. Enter Hipolito.
    Doc. man. Itch lurch if you will. Exit.
    Do. O my mo st noble friend.
    2225 Hip. Few but your selfe,
    Could haue inticd me thus, to tru st the Aire,
    With my close sighes, you send for me: what newes?
    Doc. Come you mu st doff this blacke: die that pale cheeke,
    Into his owne colour; goe: Attire your selfe
    2230Fre sh as a bridegroome, when he meetes his bride,
    The Duke has done much treason to thy loue,
    Tis now reuealed, tis now to be reuengde,
    Be mery honord friend, thy Lady liues.
    Hip. What Lady?
    2235 Doc. Infaelice, Shees reuiude;
    Reuiude: alacke! death neuer had the hart,
    To take breath from her.
    Hip. Vmh: I thanke you sir,
    Phi sicke prolongs life, when it cannot saue,
    2240This helpes not my hopes. mine are in their graue:
    You doe some wrong to mocke me.
    Doc. By that loue,
    Which I haue euer borne you, what I speake
    Is trueth: the maiden liues: that funerall,
    2245Dukes teares, the morning, was all counterfet,
    A sleepy draught cozend the world and you,
    I was his mini ster and then chambred vp,
    To stop discouery.
    Hip. O trecherous Duke:
    2250 Doc. He cannot hope so certainely for bli s s e:
    As he beleeues that I haue poysond you,
    He wode me toot, I yeelded, and confirm'd him,
    In his mo st bloudy thoughts.
    Hip. A very deuill!
    2255 Doc. Her did he closely coach to Bergamo,
    And thither?
    Hip. Will I ride, stood Bergamo,
    In the low countries of blacke hell, ile to her.
    Doc. You shall to her, but not to Bergamo,
    2260How pa s sion makes you fly beyond your selfe.
    Much of that weary iourney I'ha cut off,
    For she by letters hath intelligence,
    Of your supposed death, her owne interment,
    And all those plots, which that false Duke, (her father)
    2265Has wrought again st you: And sheele meete you.
    Hip. O when:
    Doc. Nay see: how couetous are your de sires,
    Earely to morrow morne.
    Hip. O where good father.
    2270 Doc. At Bethlem mona sterie: are you pleasd now?
    Hip, At Bethlem mona sterie: the place well fits,
    It is the scoole where those that loose their wits,
    Practise againe to get them: I am sicke
    Of that disease, all loue is lunaticke.
    2275 Doc. Weele steale away, this night in some disguise,
    Father Anselmo, a mo st reuerend Frier,
    Expects our comming, before whom weele lay,
    Reasons so strong, that he shall yeeld, in bonds,
    Oh holy wedlocke, to tie both your hands.
    2280 Hip. This is such happine s s e:
    That to beleeue it. tis impo s sible.
    Doc. Let all your ioyes then die in misbeliefe,
    I will reueale no more.
    Hip. O yes good father,
    2285I am so well acquainted with despaire,
    I know not how to hope: I beleeue all.
    Doc. Weele hence this night, much mu st be done, much (said
    But if the Doctor faile not in his charmes,
    Your Lady shall ere morning fill these armes.
    2290 Hip. heauenly Phi sition: far thy fame shall sprede,
    That mak' st two louers speake when they be dead.
    Exeunt.
    Candido's wife, and George: Pioratto
    meetes them.
    2295 Wi. O watch good George, watch which way the Duke (comes.
    Geo. Here comes one of the butter flies, aske him.
    Wi. Pray sir, comes the duke this way.
    Pio. He's vpon comming mi stris. Exit.
    Wi. I thanke you sir: Geroge are there many madfolkes,
    2300where thy Mai ster lies.
    Geo. O yes, of all countries some, but especially mad greekes
    they swarme: troth mi stris, the world is altered with you,
    you had not wont to stand thus with a paper humblie com-
    plaining: but you're well enough seru'd: prouander prickt
    2305you, as it does many of our Cittie-wiues be sides.
    Wif. Doe st thinke George we shall get him forth.
    Ge. Truly mi stris I cannot tel, I thinke youle hardly get him
    forth: why tis strange! Sfoot I haue known many womē that
    haue had mad rascals to their husbāds, whom they would be-
    2310labour by all meanes po s sible to keepe em in their right wits,
    but of a woman to long to turne a tame mā into a madman,
    why the diuell himselfe was neuer vsde so by his dam.
    Wif. How does he talke George! ha! good George tell me.
    Geo. Why youre be st go see.
    2315 Wif. Alas I am afraid.
    Geo. Afraid! you had more need be a shamd: he may ra-
    ther be afraid of you.
    Wif. But George hees not starke mad, is hee? hee does not
    raue, hees not horne-mad George is he?
    2320 Geo. Nay I know not that, but he talkes like a Iu stice of
    peace, of a thousand matters and to no purpose.
    Wif. Ile to the mona stery: I shall be mad till I inioy him,
    I shalbe sick till I see him, yet when I doe see him, I shall
    weepe out mine eyes.
    2325 Geo. I, ide faine see a woman weepe out her eyes; thats as
    true, as to say, a mans cloake burnes; when it hangs in the
    water: I know youle weepe mi stri s s e, but what saies the pain-
    ted cloth. Tru st not a woman when she cryes,
    For sheele pump water from her eyes,
    2330 With a wet finger, and in fa ster showers,
    Then Aprill when he raines downe flowers.
    Wif. I but George, that painted cloath is worthy to be
    hangd vp for lying, all women haue not teares at will, vnle s s e
    they haue good cause.
    2335 Geo. I but mi stri s s e how ea sily will they find a cause, and as
    one of our Cheese-trenchers sayes very learnedly:
    As out of Wormwood Bees suck Hony,
    As from poore clients Lawyers firke mony,
    As Par sley from a roa sted cunny.
    2340 So tho the day be nere so sunny,
    If wiues will haue it raine, downe then it driues,
    The calmest husbands make the stormest wiues,
    Wif. Tame George, but I ha don storming now.
    Geo. Why thats well done, good mi stris throw a side this
    2345fa shion of your humor, be not so phanta sticall in wearing it,
    storme no more, long no more.--This longing has made you
    come short of many a good thing that you might haue had
    from my Mai ster: Here comes the Duke.
    Enter Duke, Fluello, Pioratto, Sinere.
    2350 Wife. Oh I beseech you pardon my offence,
    In that I dur st abuse your Graces warrant,
    Deliuer foorth my husband good my Lord.
    Duke. Who is her husband?
    Flu. Candido my Lord, Duke. Where is he?
    2355 Wif. Hees among the lunaticks,
    He was a man made vp without a gall,
    Nothing could moue him, nothing could conuert
    His meeke bloud into fury, yet like a mon ster,
    I often beate at the mo st con stant rock
    2360Of his vn shaken patience, and did long
    To vex him. Duk. Did you so?
    Wife. And for that purpose,
    Had warrant from your Grace, to cary him
    To Bethlem Mona stery, whence they will not free him,
    2365Without your Graces hand that sent him in.
    Duke. You haue longd fayre; tis you are mad I feare,
    Its fit to fetch him thence, and keepe you there:
    If he be mad, why would you haue him forth?
    Geo. And please your grace, hees not starke mad, but one-
    2370ly talkes like a young Gentleman, somewhat phanta stically,
    thats all: theres a thousand about your court, citty and
    countrie madder then he.
    Duk. Prouide a warrant, you shall haue our hand.
    Geo. Heres a warrant ready drawne my Lord.
    2375 Cast . Get pen & Inck, get pen & inck: Enter Ca struchio.
    Cast Where is my Lord the Duke?
    Duke. How now? more mad men.
    Ca st . I haue strange newes my Lord.
    Duk. Of what? of whom?
    2380 Cast . Of Infaelice, and a mariage.
    Du. Ha! where? with whom.
    Cast . Hipolito. Geo. Here my Lord.
    Du. Hence with that woman, voyd the roome.
    Flu. Away, the Duke's vext.
    2385 Geo. Whoop, come mi stris the Duke's mad too. Exeunt.
    Du. Who told me that Hipolito was dead?
    Cast . He that can make any man dead, the Doctor: but
    my Lord, hees as full of life as wilde-fire, and as quick: Hipo -
    lito, the Doctor, and one more rid hence this euening; the
    2390Inne at which they light is Bethlem Mona starie: Infaeliche
    comes from Bergamo, and meetes them there: Hipolito is
    mad, for he meanes this day to be maryed, the after-noone is
    the houre, and Frier Anselmo is the knitter.
    Du. From Bergamo? i st po s sible? it cannot be,
    2395It cannot be.
    Cast . I will not sweare my Lord,
    But this intelligence I tooke from one,
    Whose braines workes in the plot.
    Du. Whats he? Ca st . Mathaeo.
    2400 Flu. Mathaeo knowes all. Pio. Hees Hipolitoes bosome.
    Duke. How farre stands Bethlem hence?
    Omn. Six or seauen miles.
    Duke. I st euen so, not maried till the afternoone you say?
    Stay, stay, lets worke out some preuention: how:
    2405This is mo st strange, can none but mad-men serue
    To dre s s e their wedding dinner? All of you,
    Get presently to horse; disguise your selues
    Like Countrie-Gentlemen,
    Or riding cittizens, or so: and take
    2410Each man a seuerall path, but let vs meete,
    At Bethlem Mona sterie, some space of time
    Being spent betweene the arriuall each of other,
    As if we came to see the Lunaticks.
    To horse, away, be secret on your liues,
    2415Loue mu st be puni sht that vniu stly thriues. Exeunt.
    Flu. Be secret on your liues! Ca struchio
    Y'are but a scuruy Spaniell; hone st Lord,
    Good Lady: Zounds their loue is iu st, tis good,
    And Ile preuent you, tho I swim in bloud. Exit.
    2420 Enter Frier Anselmo, Hipolito, Mathaeo, Infaeliche.
    Hip. Nay, nay, resolue good father, or deny.
    Ans . You pre s s e me to an act, both full of danger,
    And full of happine s s e, for I behold.
    Your fathers frownes, his threats, nay perhaps death,
    2425To him that dare doe this, yet noble Lord,
    Such comfortable beames breake through these clowdes,
    By this ble st mariage, that your honord word
    Being pawnd in my defence) I will tie fa st,
    The holy wedding Knot. Hip. Tu sh feare not the Duke.
    2430 Ans . O sonne, wisely to feare: Is to be free from feare.
    Hip. You haue our words, and you shall haue our liues,
    To guard you safe from all ensuing danger.
    Ma. I, I, chop em vp and away.
    Ans . Stay, when i st fit for me, safe st for you,
    2435To entertaine this bu sines.
    Hip. Not till the euening.
    Ans . Be't so, there is a chappell