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  • Title: The Honest Whore, Part 1 (Quarto 1, 1604)
  • Editor: Joost Daalder
  • Contributing editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • Coordinating editor: Brett Greatley-Hirsch
  • General textual editor: Eleanor Lowe
  • 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)

    2420Enter Frier Anselmo, Hipolito, Mathaeo, Infaeliche.
    Hip. Nay, nay, resolue good father, or deny.
    Ans. You presse me to an act, both full of danger,
    And full of happinesse, 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 blest mariage, that your honord word
    Being pawnd in my defence) I will tie fast,
    The holy wedding Knot. Hip. Tush feare not the Duke.
    2430Ans. 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 ist fit for me, safest for you,
    2435To entertaine this busines.
    Hip. Not till the euening.
    Ans. Be't so, there is a chappell stands hard by,
    Vpon the West end of the Abbey wall,
    Thether conuay your selues, and when the sunne
    2440Hath turnd his back vpon this vpper world,
    Ile mary you, that done, no thnndring voice,
    Can breake the sacred bond, yet Lady here you are most safe.
    Infae. Father your lou's most deere.
    Mat. I well said locke vs into some little roome by our
    2445selues that we may be mad for an houre or two.
    Hip. O good Mathaeo no, lets make no noise.
    Mat. How! no noise! do you know where you are: sfoot
    amonst all the mad-caps in Millan: so that to throw the house
    out at window will be the better, & no man will suspect that
    2450we lurke here to steale mutton: the more sober we are, the
    more scuruy tis. And tho the Frier tell vs, that heere we are
    safest, i'me not of his minde, for if those lay here that had lost
    there mony, none would euer looke after them, but heare are
    none but those that haue lost their wits, o that if hue and cry
    2455be made, hether theile come, and my reason is, because none
    I 2 goes
    goes to be married till he be starke mad.
    Hip. Muffle your selues yonders Fluello. Enter Fluello.
    Ma. Zounds!
    Flu. O my Lord these cloakes are not for this raine, the
    2460tempest is too great: I come sweating to tell you of it, that
    you may get out of it.
    Mat. Why whats the matter.
    Flu. Whats the matter! you haue matterd it faire: the (Duk's at hand.
    Onm. The Duke?
    2465Flu. The very Duke.
    Hip. Then all our plots are turnd vpon our heads; and we
    are blown vp with our own vnderminings. Sfoot how comes
    he, what villaine durst betray our being here.
    2470Flu. Castruchio, Castruchio tolde the Duke, and Mathaeo
    here told Castruchio.
    Hip. Would you betray me to Chastruchio,
    Ma. Sfoot he dambd himselfe to the pit of hell if he spake (ont agen.
    Hip. So did you sweare to me, so were you dambd.
    2475Mat. Pox on em, & there be no faith in men, if a man shall
    not beleeue oathes: he tooke bread and salt by this light, that
    he would neuer open his lips. Hip. Oh God, oh God.
    Ans. Sonne be not desperate haue patience, you shal trip your
    enemy downe, 2480by his owne slights, how far is the Duke hēce.
    Flu. Hees but new set out: Castruchio, Pioratto and Sinezi
    come along with him: you haue time enough yet to preuent
    them if you haue but courage.
    Ans. You shall steale secretly into the Chappell,
    2485And presently be maried; if the duke
    Abide here still, spite of ten thousand eyes,
    You shall scape hence like Friers.
    Hip. O blest disguisde: O happy man.
    Ans. Talke not of happinesse till your closde hand,
    2490Haue her bith'forhead, like the lock of time,
    Bee not too slow, nor hasty, now you clime,
    Vp to the towre of blisse, onely be wary
    And patient, thats all, if you like my plot
    Build and dispatch, if not farewell, then not.
    2495Hip. O Yes, we doe applaud it, weele dispute,
    No longer, but will hence and execute.
    Fluello youle stay here, let vs be gon,
    The ground that fraighted louers tread vpon,
    Is stuke with thornes.
    2500Ans. Come then, away: tis meete,
    To escape those thornes, to put on winged feete. Exeunt.
    Mat. No words I pray Fluello, for it stands vs vpon.
    Flu. Oh sir, let that be your lesson.
    Alas poore louers, on what hopes and feares,
    2505Men tosse themselues for women. when shees got
    The best has in her that which pleaseth not.
    Enter to Fluello, the Duke, Castruchio, Pioratto and
    Sinezi from seuerall dores muffled.
    Duk. whose there! Cast. My Lord.
    2510Duk. Peace, send that Lord away,
    A Lordship will spoile all, lets be all fellowes.
    Whats he.
    Cast. Fluello, or els Sinezi by his little legs.
    Omn. All friends, all friends.
    Duk. What! met vpon the very point of time,
    2515Is this the place. Pio. This is the place my Lord.
    Duke. Dreame you on Lordshps! come no more Lordes: (pray
    You haue not seene these louers yet.
    Omn. Not yet.
    Duk. Castruchio art thou sure this wedding feate,
    Is not till afternoone?
    2520Castr. So tis giuen out my Lord.
    Duk. Nay, nay, tis like, theeues must obserue their houres,
    Louers watch minuts like Astronomers,
    How shall the Interim houres by vs be spent,
    Flu. Lets all goe see the madmen.
    2525Omn. Mas content. Enter Towne like a sweeper.
    Duk. Oh here comes one, question him, question him.
    Flu. How now honest fellow dost thou belong to the house.
    Tow. yes forsooth, I am one of the implements; I swepe the
    madmens roomes, and fetch straw for em, and buy chaines
    2530to tie em, and rods to whip em, I was a mad wag my selfe here
    once, but I thanke father Anselm he lasht me into my right (minde agen.
    Duk. Anselmo is the Frier must marry them,
    Question him where he is,
    I 3 Cast.
    Cast. And where is father Anselmo now?
    2535Tow. Mary hees gon but eene now.
    Duk. I, well done, tell me, whether is he gone?
    Tow. Why to God a mighty.
    Flu. Ha, ha, this fellow is a foole, talkes idlelie.
    Pio. Sirra are all the mad folkes in Millan brought hither?
    2540Tow. How all, theres a wise question indeede: why if al the
    mad folkes in Millan should come hither, there would not be
    left ten men in the Citty.
    Duk. Few gentlemen or Courtiers here, ha.
    Tow. Oh yes? abundance, aboundance, lands no sooner fall
    2545into their hands, but straight they runne out a their wits: Ci-
    tizēs sons & heires are free of the house by their fathers copy:
    Farmers sons come hither like geese (in flocks) & when they
    ha sould all their corne fields, here they sit & picke the straws.
    Sin. Me thinks you should haue women here aswel as men.
    2550Tow. Oh, I: a plague on em, theres no ho with them, they are
    madder then march haires.
    Flu. Are there no lawyers here amongst you?
    Tow. Oh no, not one: neuer any lawyer, we dare not let a
    lawyer come in, for heele make em mad faster than we can
    2555recouer em.
    Du. And how long ist er'e you recouer any of these.
    Tow. Why according to the quantitie of the Moone thats
    got into em, an Aldermans sonne will be mad a great while
    a very great while, especially if his friends left him well, a
    2560whore will hardly come to her wits agen: a puritane ther's no
    hope of him, vnlesse he may pull downe the steeple and hang
    himselfe it'h bell-ropes.
    Flu. I perceiue all sorts of fish come to your net.
    Tow. Yes intruth, we haue blockes for all heads, we haue
    2565good store of wilde oates here: for the Courtier is mad at
    the Cittizen, the Cittizen is madde at the Country men, the
    shoomaker is mad at the cobler, the cobler at the carman, the
    punke is mad that the Marchants wife is no whore, the Mar-
    chants wife is mad that the puncke is so common a whore:
    2570gods so, heres father Anselmo. pray say nothing that I tel tales
    out of the schoole. Exit.
    Omn. God blesse you father. Enter Anselmo.
    Ans. Thanke you gentlemen.
    Cast. Pray may we see some of those wretched Soules,
    2575That here are in your keeping? Ans. Yes: you shall,
    But gentlemen I must disarme you then,
    There are of mad men, as there are of tame,
    All humourd not alike: we haue here some,
    So apish and phantastike, play with a fether,
    2580And tho twould greeue a soule, to see Gods image,
    So blemisht and defac'd, yet do they act
    Such anticke and such pretty lunacies,
    That spite of sorrow they will make you smile:
    Others agen we haue like hungry Lions,
    2585Fierce as wilde Buls, vntameable as flies,
    And these haue oftentimes from strangers sides
    Snatcht rapiers suddenly, and done much harme,
    Whom if youle see, you must be weaponlesse.
    Omn. With all our harts.
    2590Ans. Here: take these weapons in,
    Stand of a little pray, so, so, tis well:
    Ile shew you here a man that was sometimes,
    A very graue and wealthy Cittizen,
    Has serud a prentiship to this misfortune,
    2595Bin here seuen yeares, and dwelt in Bergamo.
    Duke. How fell he from his wits?
    Ans. By losse at Sea:
    Ile stand aside, question him you alone,
    For if he spy me, heele not speake a word,
    2600Vnlesse hees throughly vext. Discouers an old man, wrapt in a Net.
    Flu. Alas poore soule.
    Cast. A very old man.
    Duk. God speed father.
    1. Mad. God speed the plough: thou shalt not speed me.
    Pio. We see you old man, for all you daunce in a net.
    26051. Mad. True, but thou wilt daunce in a halter, & I shal not (see thee.
    Ans. O, doe not vex him pray.
    Cast. Are you a Fisherman father?
    1. Mad. No, i'me neither fish nor flesh.
    Flu. What do you with that net then?
    26101. Mad. Doest not see foole! theres a fresh Salmon in't: if
    you step one foot furder, youle be ouer shoes, for you see ime
    I 4 ouer
    ouer head & ear in the salt-water: & if you fal into this whirl-
    poole where I am, y'are drownd: y'are a drownd rat.--I am
    fishing here for fiue ships, but I cannot haue a good draught,
    2615for my net breakes still, and breakes, but Ile breake some of
    your necks & I catch you in my clutches. Stay, stay, stay, stay,
    stay--wheres the wind, wheres the wind, wheres the winde:
    wheres the winde: out you guls, you goose-caps, you
    gudgeon eaters! do you looke for the wind in the heauens?
    2620ha ha ha ha, no no, looke there, looke there, looke there, the
    winde is alwayes at that doore: hearke how it blowes, pooff
    pooff, pooff. Omn. Ha ha ha.
    1. Mad. Do you laugh at Gods creatures? do you mock old
    age you roagues? is this gray beard and head counterfet, that
    2625you cry ha ha ha?--Sirra, art not thou my eldest sonne?
    Pior. Yes indeed father.
    1. Mad. Then th'art a foole, for my eldest sonne had a polt
    foote, crooked legs, a vergis face, & a peare-coullourd beard;
    I made him a scholler, and he made himselfe a foole.--Sirra!
    2630thou there? hould out thy hand. Du. My hand, wel, here tis.
    1. Mad. Looke, looke, looke, looke: has he not long nailes,
    and short haire? Flu. Yes monstrous short haire, and abho-
    minable long nailes. 1. Ma. Ten-peny nailes are they not?
    Flu. Yes ten peny nailes.
    26351. Mad. Such nailes had my second boy: kneele downe
    thou varlet, and aske thy father blessing. Such nailes had my
    midlemost sonne and I made him a Promoter: & he scrapt,
    & scrapt, & scrapt, till he got the diuell and all: but he scrapt
    thus and thus, & thus, and it went vnder his legs, till at length
    2640a company of Kites taking him for carion, swept vp all, all, all
    all, all, all, all.--If you loue your liues, looke to your selues,
    see, see, see, see, the Turkes gallies are fighting with my ships,
    Bownce goes the guns--oooh! cry the men: romble romble
    goe the waters--Alas! there! tis sunke--tis sunck: I am vn-
    2645don, I am vndon, you are the dambd Pirates haue vndone
    me,--you are bith Lord, you are, you are, stop em, you are.
    Ans. Why how now Syrra, must I fall to tame you?
    1. Mad. Tame me? no: ile be madder than a roasted Cat:
    see, see, I am burnt with gūpowder, these are our close fights.
    2650Ans. Ile whip you, if you grow vnruly thus.
    1. Mad.
    1. Mad. Whip me? out you toad:- whip me? what iustice
    is this, to whip me because Ime a begger?--Alas? I am a
    poore man: a very poore man: I am starud, and haue had no
    meate by this light, euer since the great floud, I am a poore
    2655man. Ans. Well, well; be quiet and you shall haue meate.
    1. Mad. I, I, pray do, for looke you, here be my guts: these
    are my ribs,--you may looke through my ribs,--see how my
    guts come out--these are my red guttes, my very guts, oh, oh!
    Ansel. Take him in there.
    2660Omn. A very pitious sight.
    Cast. Father I see you haue a busie charge.
    Ans. They must be vsde like children, pleasd with toyes,
    And anon whipt for their vnrulinesse:
    Ile shew you now a paire quite different
    2665From him thats gon; he was all words: and these
    Vnlesse you vrge em, seldome spend their speech,
    But saue their tongues-la you-this hithermost
    Fell from the happy quietnesse of mind,
    About a maiden that he loude, and dyed:
    2670He followed her to church, being full of teares,
    And as her body went into the ground,
    He fell starke mad. That is a maryed man,
    Was iealous of a faire, but (as some say)
    A very vertuous wife, and that spoild him.
    26752. Mad. All these are whoremongers & lay with my wife:
    whore, whore, whore, whore, whore.
    Flu. Obserue him.
    2. Mad. Gaffer shoomaker, you puld on my wiues pumps,
    and then crept into her pantofles: lye there, lye there,--this
    2680was her Tailer,-you cut out her loose-bodied gowne, and put
    in a yard more then I allowed her, lye there by the shomaker:
    ô, maister Doctor! are you here: you gaue me a purgation,
    and then crept into my wiues chamber, to feele her pulses,
    and you said, and she sayd, and her mayd said, that they went
    2685pit a pat-pit a pat-pit a pat,-Doctor Ile put you anon into my
    wiues vrinall:-heigh, come a loft Iack? this was her school-
    maister, and taught her to play vpon the Virginals, and still
    his Iacks leapt vp, vp: you prickt her out nothing but bawdy
    K lessons,
    lessons, but Ile prick you all,-Fidler-Doctor-Tayler-Shoo-
    2690maker,-Shoomaker-Fidler-Doctor-Tayler-so! lye with my
    wife agen now.
    Castr. See how he notes the other now he feedes.
    2. Mad. Giue me some porridge.
    3. Mad. Ile giue thee none.
    26952. Mad. Giue me some porridge.
    3. Mad. Ile not giue thee a bit,
    2. Mad. Giue me that flap-dragon.
    3. Mad. Ile not giue thee a spoonefull: thou liest, its no
    Dragon tis a Parrat, that I bought for my sweete heart, and
    2700ile keepe it.
    2. Mad. Heres an Almond for Parrat.
    3. Mad. Hang thy selfe.
    2. Mad. Heres a roape for Parrat.
    3. Mad. Eate it, for ile eate this.
    27052. Mad. Ile shoote at thee and thow't giue me none.
    3. Mad. Wut thou?
    2. Mad. Ile run a tilt at thee and thow't giue me none.
    3. Mad. Wut thou? doe and thou dar'st.
    2. Mad. Bownce.
    27103. Mad. Ooh! I am slaine-murder, murder, murder, I am
    slaine, my braines are beaten out.
    Ans. How now you villaines, bring me whips: ile whip you
    3. Mad. I am dead, I am slaine, ring out the bel, for I am dead,
    Duk. How will you do now sirra? you ha kild him.
    27152. Mad. Ile answer't at Sessions: he was eating of Almond
    Butter, and I longd for't: the child had neuer bin deliuered
    out of my belly, if I had not kild him, Ile answer't at sessions,
    so my wife may be burnt ith hand too.
    Ans. Take em in both: bury him, for hees dead.
    27203. Mad. I indeed, I am dead, put me I pray into a good pit (hole.
    2. Mad. Ile answer't at Sessions. Exeunt.
    Enter Bellafronte mad.
    Ans. How now huswife, whether gad you?
    Bell. A nutting forsooth: how doe you gaffer? how doe
    2725you gaffer? theres a French cursie for you too.
    Flu. Tis Bellafronte.
    Pio. Tis the puncke bith Lord.
    Duk. Father whats she I pray?
    Ans. As yet I know not,
    2730She came but in this day, talkes little idlely
    And therefore has the freedome of the house,
    Bell. Doe not you know me? nor you? nor you, nor you?
    Omn. No indeede.
    Bell. Then you are an Asse, and you are an Asse, and you
    2735are an Asse, for I know you.
    Ans. Why, what are they? come: tell me, what are they?
    Bell. The're fish-wiues: will you buy any gudgeons, gods
    santy yonder come Friers, I know them too, how doe you
    2740Enter Hipolito, Mathaeo, and Infaeliche disguisde
    in the Habets of Friers.
    Ans. Nay, nay, away, you must not trouble Friers.
    The duke is here speake nothing.
    Bell. Nay indeed you shall not goe: weele run at barlibreak
    2745first, and you shalbe in hell.
    Mat. My puncke turnd mad whore, as all her fellowes are?
    Hip. Speake nothing, but steale hence, when you spie time.
    Ans. Ile locke you vp if y'are vnruly fie
    Bell. fie! mary fo: they shall not goe indeed till I ha tolde
    2750em their fortunes.
    Duk. Good Father giue her leaue.
    Bell. I pray, good father, ad Ile giue you my blessing.
    Ans. Wel then be briefe, but if you are thus vnruly,
    Ile haue you lockt vp fast.
    2755Pio. come, to their fortunes.
    Bell. Let me see 1.2.3. and 4. ile begin with the little Fri-
    er first, heres a fine hand indeed, I neuer saw Frier haue such
    a dainty hand: heres a hand for a Lady, heres your fortune,
    2760You loue a Frier better then a Nun,
    Yet long youle loue no Frier, nor no Friers sonne.
    Bow a little, the line of life is out, yet i'me afraid,
    For all your holy, youle not die a maide, God giue you ioy.
    Now to you Frier Tucke.
    2765Mat, God send me good lucke.
    K 2 Bell.
    Bel. You loue one, and one loues you.
    You are a false knaue, and shees a Iew,
    Here is a Diall that false euer goes.
    Mat. O your wit drops.
    2770Bel. Troth so does your nose, nay lets shake hands with you (too:
    Pray open, heres a fine hand,
    Ho Fryer ho, God be here,
    So he had need: youle keepe good cheere,
    Heres a free table, but a frozen breast,
    2775For youle starue those that loue you best.
    Yet you haue good fortune, for if I am no lyar,
    Then you are no Frier, nor you, nor you no Frier discouers (them
    Haha haha.
    Duk. Are holy habits cloakes for villanie?
    2780Draw all your weapons.
    Hip. doe, draw all your weapons.
    Duk. Where are your weapons, draw.
    Omn. The Frier has guld vs of em.
    Mat. O rare tricke:
    2785You ha learnt one mad point of Arithmaticke.
    Hip. Why swels your spleene so hie? against what bosome,
    Would you your weapons draw? hers! tis your daughters:
    Mine! tis your sonnes.
    Duk: Sonne?
    2790Mat. Sonne, by yonder Sunne.
    Hip. You cannot shed blould here, but tis your owne,
    To spill your owne bloud were damnation,
    Lay smooth that wrinckled brow, and I will throw
    My selfe beneath your feete,
    2795Let it be rugged still and flinted o're,
    What can come forth but sparkles, that will burne,
    Your selfe and vs? Shees mine; my claymes most good,
    Shees mine by marriage, tho shees yours by bloud.
    I haue a hand deare Lord, deepe in this act,
    2800For I foresaw this storme, yet willingly
    Put fourth to meete it? Oft haue I seene a father
    Washing the wounds of his deare sonne in teares,
    A sonne to curse the sword that strucke his father,
    Both slaine ith quarrell of your families,
    2805Those scars are now tane off: And I beseech you,
    To seale our pardon, all was to this end
    To turne the ancient hates of your two houses
    To fresh greene friendship, that your Loues might looke:
    Like the springs forehead, comfortably sweete,
    2810And your vext soules in peacefull vnion meete,
    Their bloud will now be yours, yours will be theirs,
    And happinesse shall crowne your siluer haires.
    Flu. You see my Lord theres now no remedy.
    Omn. Beseech your Lordship.
    2815Duk. You beseech faire, you haue me in place fit
    To bridle me, rise Frier. you may be glad
    You can make madmen tame, and tame men mad,
    Since fate hath conquered, I must rest content,
    To striue now would but ad new punishment:
    2820I yeeld vnto your happinesse, be blest,
    Our families shall henceforth breath in rest.
    Omn. O happy change.
    Duk. Yours now is my consent,
    I throw vpon your ioyes my full consent.
    2825Bell. Am not I a good girle, for finding the Frier in the wel?
    gods so you are a braue man: will not you buy me some Su-
    ger plums because I am so good a fortune teller.
    Duk. Would thou hadst wit thou pretty soule to aske,
    As I haue will to giue.
    2830Bell. Pretty soule, a prety soule is better than a prety body:
    do not you know my prety soule? I know you: Is not your
    name Mathaeo.
    Mat. Yes lamb.
    Bell. Baa, lamb! there you lie for I am mutton; looke fine
    man, he was mad for me once, and I was mad for him once,
    and he 2835was madde for her once, and were you neuer mad?
    yes I warrant, I had a fine iewell once, a very fine iewell
    and that naughty man stoale it away from me, a very fine
    2840Duk. What iewell pretty maide.
    Bell. Maide nay thats a lie, O twas a very rich iewell, calde
    K 3 a mai-
    a Maidenhead, and had not you it leerer.
    Mat. Out you mad Asse away.
    Duk. Had he thy Maiden-head? he shall make thee a-
    2845mends, and marry thee.
    Bell. Shall he? ô braue Arthur of Bradly then?
    Duk. And if he beare the minde of a Gentleman,
    I know he will.
    Mat. I thinke I rifled her of some such paltry Iewell.
    2850Duk. Did you? then mary her, you see the wrong
    Has led her spirits into a lunacie.
    Mat. How, marry her my Lord? sfoot marry a mad-wo-
    man: let a man get the tamest wife he can come by, sheele be
    mad enough afterward, doe what he can.
    2855Duk. Nay then, father Anselmo here shall do his best,
    To bring her to her wits, and will you then?
    Mat. I cannot tell, I may choose.
    Duk. Nay then law shall compell: I tell you sir,
    So much her hard fate moues me: you should not breath
    2860Vnder this ayre, vnlesse you marryed her.
    Mat. Well then, when her wits stand in their right place, (ile mary her.
    Bell. I thanke your grace, Mathaeo thou art mine,
    I am not mad, but put on this disguise,
    Onely for you my Lord, for you can tell
    2865Much wonder of me, but you are gon: farewell.
    Mathaeo thou didst first turne my soule black,
    Now make it white agen, I doe protest,
    Ime pure as fire now, chaste as Cynthias brest.
    Hip. I durst be sworne Mathaeo she's indeed.
    2870Mat. Cony-catcht, guld, must I saile in your flie-boate,
    Because I helpt to reare your maine-mast first:
    Plague found you fort,-tis well.
    The Cuckolds stampe goes currant in all Nations,
    Some men haue hornes giuen them at their creations,
    2875If I be one of those, why so: its better
    To take a common wench, and make her good,
    Than one that simpers and at first, will scarse
    Be tempted forth ouer the threshold dore,
    Yet in one sennight, zounds, turnes arrant whore,
    2880Come wench, thou shalt be mine, giue me thy gols,
    Weele talke of legges hereafter: see my Lord,
    God giue vs ioy.
    Omn. God giue you ioy.
    Enter Candidoes wife and George.
    Geo. Come mistris we are in Bedlam now, mas and see, we
    2885come in pudding-time, for heres the Duke.
    Wif. My husband good my Lord.
    Duk. Haue I thy husband?
    Cast. Its Candido my Lord, he's here among the lunaticks:
    father Anselmo, pray fetch him forth: this mad woman is
    2890his wife, and tho shee were not with child, yet did she long
    most spitefully to haue her husband mad, and because shee
    would be sure, he should turne Iew, she placde him here in
    Bethlem, youder he comes.
    2895Enter Candido with Anselmo.
    Duke. Come hither Signior--Are you mad.
    Cand. You are not mad.
    Duke. Why I know that.
    Cand. Then may you know, I am not mad, that know
    You are not mad, and that you are the duke:
    2900None is mad here but one--How do you wife:
    What do you long for now?--pardon my Lord,
    Shee had lost her childes nose els: I did cut out
    2905Penniworths of Lawne, the Lawne was yet mine owne:
    A carpet was yet my gowne, yet twas mine owne,
    I wore my mans coate. yet the cloath mine owne,
    Had a crackt crowne. the crowne was yet mine owne,
    She sayes for this Ime mad, were her words true,
    2910I should be mad indeed -- ô foolish skill,
    Is patience madnesse? Ile be a mad-man still.
    Wife. Forgiue me, and ile vex your spirit no more.
    Duk. Come, come, weele haue you friends, ioyne hearts, (ioyne hands.
    Cand. See my Lord, we are euen,
    2915Nay rise, for ill-deeds kneele vnto none but heauen.
    Duk. Signior, me thinkes, patience has laid on you
    Such heauy waight, that you should loath it.
    Cand. Loath it.
    K 4 Duke.
    Duk. For he whose brest is tender bloud so coole,
    2920That no wrongs heate it, is a patient foole,
    What comfort do you finde in being so calme.
    Cand. That which greene wounds receiue frō soueraigne (balme,
    Patience my Lord; why tis the soule of peace:
    Of all the vertues tis neerst kin to heauen.
    2925It makes men looke like Gods; the best of men
    That ere wore earth about him, was a sufferer,
    A soft, meeke, patient, humble, tranquill spirit,
    The first true Gentleman that euer breathd;
    The stock of Patience then cannot be poore,
    2930All it desires, it has; what Monarch more?
    It is the greatest enemy to law
    That can be, for it doth embrace all wrongs,
    And so chaines vp, lawyers and womens tongues.
    Tis the perpetuall prisoners liberty:
    2935His walkes and Orchards: 'tis the bond-slaues freedome,
    And makes him seeme prowd of each yron chaine.
    As tho he wore it more for state then paine:
    It is the beggers Musick, and thus sings,
    Although their bodies beg, their soules are kings:
    2940O my dread liege! It is the sap of blisse,
    Reares vs aloft; makes men and Angels kisse,
    And (last of all) to end a houshould strife,
    It is the hunny gainst a waspish wife.
    Duke. Thou giu'st it liuely coulours: who dare say
    2945he's mad, whose words march in so good aray?
    Twere sinne all women should such husbands haue.
    For euery man must then be his wiues slaue.
    Come therefore you shall teach our court to shine,
    So calme a spirit is worth a golden Mine,
    2950Wiues (with meeke husbands) that to vex them long,
    In Bedlam must they dwell, els dwell they wrong.