Anon, forsooth.

[Within] What are you playing the rogue about?

About you, forsooth; Iʼm drawing up a hole in your 747white silk stocking.

Is my glass there? And my boxes of complexion?

Yes, forsooth. Your boxes of complexion are 750here, I think. Yes, ʼtis here; hereʼs your two 751complexions. [Aside] An if I had all the four complexions, I should 752neʼer set a good face uponʼt. Some men, I see, are born 753under hard-favoured planets as well as women. Zounds, I look 754worse now than I did before; and it makes her face glister most 755damnably. Thereʼs knavery in daubing, I hold my life; or else 756this is only female pomatum.

Whereʼs my ruff and poker, you blockhead?

Your ruff and your poker are engendering together 761upon the cupboard of the court, or the court-cupboard.

Fetch ʼem! Is the pox in your hams, you can go 763no faster?

Would the pox were in your fingers, unless you could 765leave flinging. Catch!

Iʼll catch you, you dog, by and by. Do you grumble?

Thereʼs your ruff. Shall I poke it?

Yes, honest Roger – no, stay. Prithee, good boy, hold here.

2.1.17771Down, down, down, down; I fall down, and arise I never 772shall.

Troth, mistress, then leave the trade, if you shall never rise.

What trade, Goodman Abram?

Why, that of down and arise, or the falling trade.

Iʼll fall with you, by and by.

If you do, I know who shall smart forʼt. 778Troth, mistress, what do I look like now?

Like as you are: a panderly sixpenny rascal.

I may thank you for that. No, faith, I look like an old 781proverb, ‘Hold the candle before the devil.ʼ

Udʼs life, Iʼll stick my knife in your guts an you 783prate to me so! – What?

2.1.30788Pox on you, how dost thou hold my glass?

Why, as I hold your door: with my fingers.

Nay, prithee, sweet honey Roger, hold up handsomely. 791(Sings ‘Pretty wantons, warbleʼ, etc.) We shall haʼ guests today, 792I lay my little maidenhead, my nose itches so.

I said so too, last night, when our fleas twinged me.

[Completing her make-up] So. Poke my ruff now. My gown, my gown! Have I my fall? 795Whereʼs my fall, Roger?

Your fall, forsooth, is behind.

Godʼs my pitikins! Some fool or other knocks.

Shall I open to the fool, mistress?

And all these baubles lying thus? Away with it 800quickly!

2.1.39– Ay, ay, knock and be damned, whosoever you be. – So. Give the 801fresh salmon line now; let him come ashore. He shall 802serve for my breakfast, though he go against my stomach.

[To Bellafront] Morrow, coz.

How does my sweet acquaintance?

Save thee, little marmoset. How dost thou, good 807pretty rogue?

Well, God-a-mercy, good pretty rascal.

[Producing tobacco] Roger, some light, I prithee.

You shall, signor; for we that live here in this vale 811of misery are as dark as hell.

Good tobacco, Fluello?

Smell.

It may be tickling gear, for it plays with my nose already.

[To Fluello] Hereʼs another light angel, signor.

What, you pied curtal? Whatʼs that you are neighing?

I say, ‘God send us the light of heaven, or some more 818angelsʼ.

Go fetch some wine; [Aside, to him]and drink half of it.

I must fetch some wine, gentlemen, [Aside to her] and drink half of it.

[Offering him money] Here, Roger.

No, let me send, prithee.

[To Roger] Hold, you cankerworm.

You shall send both, if you please, signors. [Castruccio gives him money.]

Stay, whatʼs best to drink a-mornings?

Hippocras, sir, for my mistress, if I fetch it, is most dear to her.

Hippocras? [Giving Roger more money] There, then; hereʼs a teston for you, you snake.

Right, sir; hereʼs three shillings sixpence for a pottle and a manchet.

[Smoking] Hereʼs most Herculean tobacco. [Offering the pipe to Bellafront] Haʼ some, acquaintance?

Faugh, not I – makes your breath stink like the piss of a 831fox. Acquaintance, where supped you last night?

At a place, sweet acquaintance, where your health 833danced the canaries, iʼfaith; you should haʼ been there.

I there, among your punks? Marry faugh, hang ʼem! 835Scornʼt. Will you never leave sucking of eggs in other folksʼ 836hensʼ nests?

Why, in good troth, if youʼll trust me, acquaintance, 838there was not one hen at the board. Ask Fluello.

No, faith, coz, none but cocks. Signor Malavolta 840drunk to thee.

O, a pure beagle! That horseleech there?

And the knight, Sir Oliver Lollio, swore he would bestow 842a taffeta petticoat on thee, but to break his fast with thee.

With me? Iʼll choke him then. Hang him, 844mole-catcher! Itʼs the dreamingest snotty-nose.

Well, many took that Lollio for a fool; but heʼs a 846subtle fool.

Ay, and he has fellows; of all filthy, 847dry-fisted knights, I cannot abide that he should touch me.

Why, wench, is he scabbed?

Hang him! Heʼll not live to be so honest, nor to the 850credit to have scabs about him; his betters have ʼem. But 851I hate to wear out any of his coarse knighthood, because 852heʼs made like an aldermanʼs nightgown, faced all with 853cony before, and within nothing but fox. This sweet 854Oliver will eat mutton till he be ready to burst, but the 855lean-jawed slave will not pay for the scraping of his trencher.

Plague him; set him beneath the salt, and let him not 857touch a bit till everyone has had his full cut.

Sordello, the gentleman-usher, came in to us too. 859Marry, ʼtwas in our cheese, for he had been to borrow money 860for his lord, of a citizen.

What an ass is that lord, to borrow money of a 862citizen!

Nay, Godʼs my pity, what an ass is that citizen to 864lend money to a lord!

Save you, gallants. Signor Fluello, exceedingly 869well met, as I may say.

Signor Mattheo, exceedingly well met too, as I may 871say.

And how fares my little pretty mistress?

Eʼen as my little pretty servant; sees three court 874dishes before her, and not one good bit in them. [To Roger] How now? 875Why the devil standst thou so? Art in a trance?

Yes, forsooth.

Why dost not fill out their wine?

Forsooth, ʼtis filled out already: all the wine that the 878signors has bestowed upon you is cast away. A porter ran a 879tilt at me, and so faced me down that I had not a drop.

Iʼm accurst to let such a withered artichoke-faced 881rascal grow under my nose! Now you look like an old 882he-cat, going to the gallows. Iʼll be hanged if he haʼ not put up 883the money to cony-catch us all.

No, truly, forsooth, ʼtis not put up [Aside to her] yet.

How many gentlemen hast thou served thus?

None [Aside] but five hundred, besides prentices and servingmen.

Dost think Iʼll pocket it up at thy hands?

Yes, forsooth, [Aside to her] I fear you will pocket it up.

[To Mattheo] Fie, fie, cut my lace, good servant; I shall haʼ the 890mother presently, Iʼm so vexed at this horse-plum!

Plague, not for a scald pottle of wine!

Nay, sweet Bellafront, for a little pigʼs wash!

Here, Roger, fetch more. [He gives him more money.] – A mischance, iʼfaith, 894acquaintance.

[To Roger] Out of my sight, thou ungodly puritanical creature!

For the tother pottle? Yes, forsooth.

[Aside to him] Spill that too!

2.1.99[Observing Hippolito] What gentleman is that, servant? Your 898friend?

Godso! A stool, a stool! If you love me, mistress, 900entertain this gentleman respectively, and bid him welcome.

Heʼs very welcome. [To Hippolito] Pray, sir, sit.

Thanks, lady.

[Moving towards him] Count Hippolito, isʼt not? Cry you mercy, signor; you 904walk here all this while, and we not heed you? Let me 905bestow a stool upon you, beseech you. You are a stranger here; 906we know the fashions oʼthʼ house.

Please you be here, my lord. [He offers Hippolito] tobacco.

[Declining the offer] No, good Castruccio.

You have abandoned the court, I see, my lord, since 910the death of your mistress. Well, she was a delicate piece – [Aside to Bellafront] 911Beseech you, sweet, come, let us serve under the colours of your 912acquaintance still, for all that. [Aloud to Hippolito] Please you to meet here at the 913lodging of my coz; I shall bestow a banquet upon you.

[To Fluello] I never can deserve this kindness, sir.

2.1.108915What may this lady be, whom you call coz?

Faith, sir, a poor gentlewoman, of passing good 917carriage; one that has some suits in law, and lies here in an 918attorneyʼs house.

Is she married?

Ha, as all your punks are, a captainʼs wife or so. 921Never saw her before, my lord?

Never, trust me. A goodly creature.

By gad, when you know her as we do, youʼll swear she is 924the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, most bewitching honest ape 925under the pole. A skin – your satin is not more soft, nor 926lawn whiter.

Belike, then, sheʼs some sale courtesan.

Troth, as all your best faces are; a good wench.

Great pity that sheʼs a good wench. [They whisper.]

[Aloud to Bellafront] Thou shalt have it iʼfaith, mistress. – How now, signors? 931What? Whispering? [Talking apart to Hippolito] Did not I lay a wager I should take you 932within seven days in a house of vanity?

You did, and, I beshrew your heart, you have won.

How do you like my mistress?

Well, for such a mistress. Better, if your mistress 936be not your master. [Aloud] 937I must break manners, gentlemen; fare you well.

ʼSfoot, you shall not leave us.

The gentleman likes not the taste of our company.

Beseech you, stay.

Trust me, my affairs beckon for me. Pardon me.

Will you call for me half an hour hence here?

Perhaps I shall.

Perhaps? Faugh! I know you can; swear to me you will.

Since you will press me, on my word I will.

What sullen picture is this, servant?

Itʼs Count Hippolito, the brave count.

As gallant a spirit as any in Milan, you sweet Jew.

O, heʼs a most essential gentleman, coz.

Did you never hear of Count Hippolito, 951acquaintance?

Marry-muff oʼyour counts, an be no more life in ʼem.

Heʼs so malcontent! Sirrah Bellafront – [To the others] An you be 954honest gallants, letʼs sup together, and have the count dine with us. [To her] 955Thou shalt sit at the upper end, punk.

‘Punkʼ, you soused gurnet?

Kingʼs truce! Come, Iʼll bestow the supper to have 958him but laugh.

He betrays his youth too grossly to that tyrant, melancholy.

All this is for a woman.

A woman? Some whore! What sweet jewel isʼt?

Would she heard you.

Troth, so would I.

And I, by heaven.

Nay, good servant, what woman?

Pah!

Prithee, tell me; a buss, and tell me! I warrant heʼs 966an honest fellow, if he take on thus for a wench. Good 967rogue, who?

By thʼLord, I will not, must not, faith, mistress. – Isʼt a 969match, sirs? This night, at thʼAntelope; for thereʼs best wine, and good boys.

Itʼs done; at thʼAntelope.

I cannot be there tonight.

‘Cannotʼ? By thʼLord, you shall.

By the Lady, I will not. ‘Shallʼ!

Why then, put it off till Friday. Wuʼt come then, coz?

Well –

Youʼre the waspishest ape. – Roger, put your mistress in 977mind, your scurvy mistress here, to sup with us on Friday 978next. [To her] Youʼre best come like a madwoman, without a band, in 979your waistcoat, and the linings of your kirtle outward, like 980every common hackney that steals out at the back gate of her 981sweet knightʼs lodging.

Go, go, hang yourself!

Itʼs dinner-time, Mattheo; shallʼs hence?

Yes, yes. – Farewell, wench.

Farewell, boys.

Roger, what wine sent they for?

Bastard wine; for if it had been truly begotten, it would 986not haʼ been ashamed to come in. Hereʼs six shillings, to pay for nursing 987the bastard.

A company of rooks! O good sweet Roger, run to 989the poulterʼs and buy me some fine larks.

No woodcocks?

Yes, faith, a couple, if they be not dear.

Iʼll buy but one: thereʼs one already here.

Is the gentleman my friend departed, mistress?

His back is but new turned, sir.

His back is but new turned, sir. [Going] Fare you well.

I can direct you to him.

I can direct you to him. Can you, pray?

If you please, stay; heʼll not be absent long.

I care not much.

I care not much. Pray sit, forsooth.

I care not much. Pray sit, forsooth. [Putting down his rapier] Iʼm hot;

2.1.1701001If I may use your room, Iʼll rather walk.

At your best pleasure. Whew!

At your best pleasure. Whew! [Offering towels] Some rubbers, there.

Indeed, Iʼll none – indeed, I will not. Thanks.

2.1.1731004Pretty fine lodging. I perceive my friend

2.1.1741005Is old in your acquaintance.

Is old in your acquaintance. Troth, sir, he comes

2.1.1751006As other gentlemen, to spend spare hours.

2.1.1761007If yourself like our roof, such as it is,

2.1.1771008Your own acquaintance may be as old as his.

Say I did like, what welcome should I find?

Such as my present fortunes can afford.

But would you let me play Mattheoʼs part?

What part?

What part? Why, embrace you, dally with you, kiss.

2.1.1821014Faith, tell me: will you leave him, and love me?

I am in bonds to no man, sir.

I am in bonds to no man, sir. Why then,

2.1.1841016Youʼre free for any man; if any, me.

2.1.1851017But I must tell you, lady, were you mine,

2.1.1861018You should be all mine. I could brook no sharers;

2.1.1871019I should be covetous, and sweep up all.

2.1.1881020I should be pleasureʼs usurer; faith, I should.

O fate!

O fate! Why sigh you, lady? May I know?

ʼT has never been my fortune yet to single

2.1.1911024Out that one man whose love could fellow mine,

2.1.1921025As I have ever wished it. O my stars!

2.1.1931026Had I but met with one kind gentleman

2.1.1941027That would have purchased sin alone, to himself,

2.1.1951028For his own private use, although scarce proper

2.1.1961029(Indifferent handsome, meetly legged and thighed),

2.1.1971030And my allowance reasonable (iʼfaith,

2.1.1981031According to my body), by my troth

2.1.1991032I would have been as true unto his pleasures

2.1.2001033Yea, and as loyal to his afternoons,

2.1.2011034As ever a poor gentlewoman could be.

This were well now to one but newly fledged

2.1.2031036And scarce a day old in this subtle world;

2.1.2041037ʼTwere pretty art, good bird-lime, cunning net.

2.1.2051038But come, come, faith, confess: how many men

2.1.2061039Have drunk this self-same protestation

2.1.2071040From that red ʼticing lip?

From that red ʼticing lip? Indeed, not any.

‘Indeedʼ? And blush not?

‘Indeedʼ? And blush not? No, in truth, not any.

‘Indeedʼ! ‘In truthʼ! How warily you swear!

2.1.2101045ʼTis well, if ill it be not. Yet had I

2.1.2111046The ruffian in me, and were drawn before you

2.1.2121047But in light colours, I do know indeed

2.1.2131048You would not swear ‘indeedʼ, but thunder oaths

2.1.2141049That should shake heaven, drown the harmonious spheres,

2.1.2151050And pierce a soul that loved her makerʼs honour

2.1.2161051With horror and amazement.

With horror and amazement. Shall I swear?

2.1.2171053Will you believe me then?

Will you believe me then? Worst then of all;

2.1.2181055Our sins by custom seem at last but small.

2.1.2191056Were I but oʼer your threshold, a next man,

2.1.2201057And after him a next, and then a fourth,

2.1.2211058Should have this golden hook and lascivious bait

2.1.2221059Thrown out to the full length. Why, let me tell you

2.1.2231060I haʼ seen letters, sent from that white hand,

2.1.2241061Tuning such music to Mattheoʼs ear.

Mattheo! Thatʼs true. But if youʼll believe

2.1.2261063My honest tongue, my eyes no sooner met you

2.1.2271064But they conceived and led you to my heart.

O, you cannot feign with me! Why, I know, lady,

2.1.2291066This is the common fashion of you all,

2.1.2301067To hook in a kind gentleman, and then

2.1.2311068Abuse his coin, conveying it to your lover;

2.1.2321069And in the end you show him a French trick,

2.1.2331070And so you leave him that a coach may run

2.1.2341071Between his legs for breadth.

Between his legs for breadth. O, by my soul,

2.1.2351073Not I! Therein Iʼll prove an honest whore –

2.1.2361074In being true to one and to no more.

If any be disposed to trust your oath,

2.1.2381076Let him; Iʼll not be he. I know you feign

2.1.2391077All that you speak, I; for a mingled harlot

2.1.2401078Is true in nothing but in being false.

2.1.2411079What, shall I teach you how to loathe yourself?

2.1.2421080And mildly too, not without sense or reason?

I am content; I would fain loathe myself

2.1.2441082If you not love me.

If you not love me. Then if your gracious blood

2.1.245Be not all wasted, 1084I shall assay to doʼt.

2.1.2461085Lend me your silence and attention.

2.1.247You have no soul; 1086that makes you weigh so light.

2.1.248Heavenʼs treasure bought it,

2.1.2491087And half a crown hath sold it. For your body,

2.1.2501088Itʼs like the common shore, that still receives

2.1.2511089All the townʼs filth. The sin of many men

2.1.2521090Is within you; and thus much I suppose,

2.1.2531091That, if all your committers stood in rank,

2.1.2541092Theyʼd make a lane, in which your shame might dwell,

2.1.2551093And with their spaces reach from hence to hell.

2.1.2561094Nay, shall I urge it more? There has been known

2.1.2571095As many by one harlot maimed and dismembered

2.1.2581096As would haʼ stuffed an hospital. This I might

2.1.2591097Apply to you, and perhaps do you right.

2.1.2601098O, youʼre as base as any beast that bears;

2.1.2611099Your body is eʼen hired, and so are theirs.

2.1.2621100For gold and sparkling jewels, if he can,

2.1.2631101Youʼll let a Jew get you with Christian.

2.1.2641102Be he a Moor, a Tartar, though his face

2.1.2651103Look uglier than a dead manʼs skull,

2.1.2661104Could the devil put on a human shape,

2.1.2671105If his purse shake out crowns, up then he gets;

2.1.2681106Whores will be rid to hell with golden bits.

2.1.2691107So that youʼre crueller than Turks, for they

2.1.2701108Sell Christians only; you sell yourselves away.

2.1.2711109Why, those that love you, hate you, and will term you

2.1.2721110Lickerish damnation, wish themselves half sunk

2.1.2731111After the sin is laid out, and eʼen curse

2.1.2741112Their fruitless riot. For what one begets,

2.1.2751113Another poisons. Lust and murder hit;

2.1.2761114A tree being often shook, what fruit can knit?

O me unhappy!

O me unhappy! I can vex you more.

2.1.2781117A harlot is like Dunkirk, true to none;

2.1.2791118Swallows both English, Spanish, fulsome Dutch,

2.1.2801119Back-doored Italian, last of all the French.

2.1.2811120And he sticks to you, faith; gives you your diet,

2.1.2821121Brings you acquainted, first with Monsieur Doctor,

2.1.2831122And then you know what follows.

And then you know what follows. Misery.

2.1.2841124Rank, stinking, and most loathsome misery.

Methinks a toad is happier than a whore:

2.1.2861126That with one poison swells, with thousands more

2.1.2871127The other stocks her veins. Harlot? Fie, fie!

2.1.2881128You are the miserablest creatures breathing.

2.1.2891129The very slaves of nature. Mark me else:

2.1.2901130You put on rich attires, othersʼ eyes wear them;

2.1.2911131You eat but to supply your blood with sin.

2.1.2921132And this strange curse eʼen haunts you to your graves:

2.1.2931133From fools you get, and spend it upon slaves.

2.1.2941134Like bears and apes, youʼre baited and show tricks

2.1.2951135For money, but your bawd the sweetness licks.

2.1.2961136Indeed, you are their journey-women, and do

2.1.2971137All base and damned works they list set you to,

2.1.2981138So that you neʼer are rich. For do but show me,

2.1.2991139In present memory or in ages past,

2.1.3001140The fairest and most famous courtesan –

2.1.3011141Whose flesh was dearʼst, that raised the price of sin,

2.1.3021142And held it up; to whose intemperate bosom

2.1.3031143Princes, earls, lords (the worst has been a knight,

2.1.3041144The meanʼst a gentleman) have offered up

2.1.3051145Whole hecatombs of sighs, and rained in showʼrs

2.1.3061146Handfuls of gold – yet, for all this, at last

2.1.3071147Diseases sucked her marrow; then grew so poor

2.1.3081148That she has begged, eʼen at a beggarʼs door.

2.1.3091149And – wherein heavʼn has a finger – when this idol

2.1.3101150From coast to coast has lept on foreign shores,

2.1.3111151And had more worship than thʼoutlandish whores;

2.1.3121152When several nations have gone over her;

2.1.3131153When for each several city she has seen

2.1.3141154Her maidenhead has been new, and been sold dear;

2.1.3151155Did live well there, and might have died unknown

2.1.3161156And undefamed – back comes she to her own,

2.1.3171157And there both miserably lives and dies,

2.1.3181158Scorned even of those that once adored her eyes,

2.1.3191159As if her fatal-circled life thus ran

2.1.3201160Her pride should end there where it first began.

2.1.3211161What, do you weep to hear your story read?

2.1.3221162Nay, if you spoil your cheeks, Iʼll read no more.

[Weeping] O yes, I pray, proceed.

2.1.3241164Indeed, ʼtwill do me good to weep, indeed.

To give those tears a relish, this I add:

2.1.3261166Youʼre like the Jews, scattered, in no place certain.

2.1.3271167Your days are tedious, your hours burdensome;

2.1.3281168And wereʼt not for full suppers, midnight revels,

2.1.3291169Dancing, wine, riotous meetings, which do drown

2.1.3301170And bury quite in you all virtuous thoughts,

2.1.3311171And on your eyelids hang so heavily

2.1.3321172They have no power to look so high as heaven,

2.1.3331173Youʼd sit and muse on nothing but despair,

2.1.3341174Curse that devil Lust, that so burns up your blood,

2.1.3351175And in ten thousand shivers break your glass

2.1.3361176For his temptation. Say you taste delight

2.1.3371177To have a golden gull from rise to set,

2.1.3381178To mete you in his hot luxurious arms,

2.1.3391179Yet your nights pay for all: I know you dream

2.1.3401180Of warrants, whips, and beadles, and then start

2.1.3411181At a doorʼs windy creak, think every weasel

2.1.3421182To be a constable and every rat

2.1.3431183A long-tailed officer. Are you now not slaves?

2.1.3441184O, you have damnation without pleasure for it!

2.1.3451185Such is the state of harlots. To conclude,

2.1.3461186When you are old and can well paint no more,

2.1.3471187You turn bawd, and are then worse than before.

2.1.3481188Make use of this. Farewell.

Make use of this. Farewell. O, I pray, stay!

I see Mattheo comes not. Time hath barred me.

2.1.3501191Would all the harlots in the town had heard me.

[Calling after him] Stay yet a little longer! No? Quite gone!

2.1.3521193Curst be that minute – for it was no more,

2.1.3531194So soon a maid is changed into a whore –

2.1.3541195Wherein I first fell; be it for ever black!

2.1.3551196Yet why should sweet Hippolito shun mine eyes,

2.1.3561197For whose true love I would become pure-honest,

2.1.3571198Hate the worldʼs mixtures and the smiles of gold?

2.1.3581199Am I not fair? Why should he fly me, then?

2.1.3591200Fair creatures are desired, not scorned of men.

2.1.3601201How many gallants have drunk healths to me

2.1.3611202Out of their daggered arms, and thought them blest

2.1.3621203Enjoying but mine eyes at prodigal feasts?

2.1.3631204And does Hippolito detest my love?

2.1.3641205O, sure their heedless lusts but flattered me;

2.1.3651206I am not pleasing, beautiful, nor young.

2.1.3661207Hippolito has spied some ugly blemish,

2.1.3671208Eclipsing all my beauties. I am foul.

2.1.3681209Harlot! Ay, thatʼs the spot that taints thy soul.

2.1.3691210[Finding Hippolitoʼs rapier] His weapon left here? O, fit instrument

2.1.3701211To let forth all the poison of my flesh!

2.1.3711212Thy master hates me ʼcause my blood hath ranged;

2.1.3721213But when ʼtis forth, then heʼll believe Iʼm changed.

Mad woman, what art doing?

Mad woman, what art doing? Either love me,

2.1.3741216Or cleave my bosom on thy rapierʼs point.

2.1.3751217Yet do not neither, for thou then destroyst

2.1.3761218That which I love thee for – thy virtues. Here, here!

2.1.3771219Thouʼrt crueller, and killst me with disdain;

2.1.3781220To die so sheds no blood, yet ʼtis worse pain.

Not speak to me! Not look! Not bid farewell!

2.1.3801222Hated! This must not be; some means Iʼll try.

2.1.3811223Would all whores were as honest now as I.