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- Edition: The Honest Whore, Part 2
The Honest Whore, Part 2 (Modern)
- Introduction
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Acknowledgements
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Abbreviations
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Introduction
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Analysis of the Plays
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: The Plays in Performance
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Textual Introduction
- The Honest Whore, Parts 1 and 2: Appendices
- Texts of this edition
- Facsimiles
The Honest Whore, [Part Two]
1[1.1]
1.1.0.12Enter at one door Beraldo, Carolo, Fontinell, [and] Astolfo, with 3Servingmen or Pages attending on them. At another 4door, enter Lodovico, meeting them.
Good day, gallants.
Good morrow, sweet 7Lodovico.
How dost thou, Carolo?
Hereʼs a sweet morning, gentlemen.
O, a morning to tempt Jove from his ningle Ganymede, 14which is but to give dairy-wenches green gowns as 15they are going a-milking. [To Astolfo] What, is thy lord stirring yet?
Yes; he will not be horsed this hour, sure.
My lady swears he shall, for she longs to be 18at court.
O, we shall ride switch and spur. Would we 20were there once!
[To Brian] How now, is thy lord ready?
No, so Crees saʼ me; my lady will have some little 24ting in her pelly first.
O, then theyʼll to breakfast.
Footman, does my lord ride iʼthʼ coach with my 27lady, or on horseback?
No, foot, la; my lady will have me lord sheet wid 29her. My lord will sheet in de one side, and my lady sheet 30in de toder side.
1.1.14.1Exit.
‘My lady sheet in de toder sideʼ! Did you ever hear a 32rascal talk so like a pagan? Isʼt not strange that a fellow of his 33star should be seen here so long in Italy, yet 34speak so from a Christian?
An Irishman in Italy! That so strange? Why, the nation 37have running heads.
1.1.16.1Exchange walk.
Nay, Carolo, this is more strange: I haʼ been in France – 39thereʼs few of them. Marry, England they count a warm 40chimney-corner, and there they swarm like crickets to the 41crevice of a brew-house. But, sir, in England I have noted 42one thing.
Whatʼs that? Whatʼs that of England?
Marry, this, sir – [Indicating Antonio] Whatʼs he yonder?
A poor fellow would speak with my lord.
In England, sir – troth, I ever laugh when I think 47onʼt: to see a whole nation should be marked iʼthʼ forehead, 48as a man may say, with one iron – why, sir, there all 49costermongers are Irishmen.
O, thatʼs to show their antiquity, as coming 51from Eve who was an apple-wife; and they take after the 52mother.
[Laughing] Good, good! Ha, ha!
Why, then, should all your chimney-sweepers 55likewise be Irishmen? Answer that, now; come, your wit!
Faith, thatʼs soon answered; for Saint Patrick, you 57know, keeps purgatory. He makes the fire, and his 58countrymen could do nothing if they cannot sweep the 59chimneys.
Good again!
Then, sir, you have many of them, like this fellow 62(especially those of his hair), footmen to noblemen and 63others. And the knaves are very faithful where they love, by 64my faith – very proper men, many of them, and as active as 65the clouds: whirr, ha!
Are they so?
And stout! Exceeding stout. Why, I warrant this 68precious wild villain, if he were put toʼt, would fight 69more desperately than sixteen Dunkirks.
The women, they say, are very fair.
No, no, our country buona-robas – O! – are the 72sugarest delicious rogues.
O, look, he has a feeling of them!
Not I, I protest. Thereʼs a saying when they 75commend nations. It goes: the Irishman for his hand, the 76Welshman for a leg, the Englishman for a face, and Dutchman for a 77beard –
Iʼfaith, they may make swabbers of them.
The Spaniard – let me see – for a little foot, I take it; the 80Frenchman – what a-pox hath he? And so the rest. 81Are they at breakfast yet? Come, walk.
[Talking apart to his companions] This Lodovico is a notable-tongued fellow.
Discourses well.
And a very honest gentleman.
O, heʼs well valued by my lord.
[To his companions] How now, how now, whatʼs she?
Letʼs make towards her.
[To Astolfo] Will it be long, sir, ere my lord come forth?
[To her] Would you speak with my lord?
[To her, indicating the petition] How now, whatʼs this? A nurseʼs bill? Hath any here 92got thee with child, and now will not keep it?
No, sir, my business is unto my lord.
Heʼs about his own wifeʼs now; heʼll hardly 95despatch two causes in a morning.
No matter what he says, fair lady, heʼs a knight; 97thereʼs no hold to be taken at his words.
My lord will pass this way presently.
1.1.48.1[Bellafront stands aside.]
[Talking apart to the other Gentlemen] A pretty, plump rogue.
A good lusty, bouncing baggage.
[To Lodovico] Do you know her?
A pox on her! I was sure her name was in my 103table-book once. I know not of what cut her die is now, but she 104has been more common than tobacco. This is she that had 105the name of ‘The Honest Whoreʼ.
Is this she?
This is the blackamoor that by washing was turned 108white; this is the birding-piece new scoured; this is she 109that – if any of her religion can be saved – was saved by my 110lord Hippolito.
She has been a goodly creature.
‘She has beenʼ! Thatʼs the epitaph of all whores. Iʼm 113well acquainted with the poor gentleman her husband. 114Lord, what fortunes that man has overreached! She knows 115not me, yet I have been in her company; I scarce know her, 116for the beauty of her cheek hath, like the moon, suffered 117strange eclipses since I beheld it. But women are like 118medlars – no sooner ripe but rotten.
My lord is come.
We haʼ wasted half this morning! – Morrow, Lodovico.
[To Infelice] Morrow, madam.
Letʼs away to horse.
126Other Gentlemen
Ay, ay, to horse, to horse.
[Approaching Hippolito] I do beseech your lordship, let your eye
1.1.64.1[She gives him the petition.]
129Hippolito
Iʼm in haste;
1.1.65Pray thee, good woman, take some apter time.
Good woman, do.
131Bellafront
O, ʼlas! It does concern
1.1.67A poor manʼs life.
132Hippolito
Life? [To Infelice] Sweetheart, seat yourself;
1.1.68.1[He reads the petition.]
[Aside to Infelice] What stockings have you put on this morning, 135madam? If they be not yellow, change them; that paper is a 136letter from some wench to your husband.
O sir, that cannot make me jealous.
1.1.70.1Exeunt [all but Hippolito, Bellafront, and Antonio].
[To Antonio] Your business, sir? To me?
139Antonio
Yes, my good lord.
Presently, sir. [To Bellafront] Are you Mattheoʼs wife?
That most unfortunate woman.
142Hippolito
Iʼm sorry
1.1.74These storms are fallen on him. I love Mattheo,
147Bellafront
Too true.
What was he whom he killed? O, his nameʼs here:
1.1.82Would to the very eyelids wade in blood
1.1.85Deny his signèd pardon. ʼTwas fair fight, yes,
158Bellafront
No, my lord.
159Hippolito
Your turner,
Umph! When I had lost my way to heaven, you showed it;
1.1.95.1Enter Lodovico.
ʼSfoot, my lord, your lady asks if you have not left 166your wench yet. When you get in once, you never have 167done. Come, come, come, pay your old score and send her 168packing. Come.
Ride softly on before; Iʼll oʼertake you.
Your lady swears sheʼll have no riding on before 171without ye.
Prithee, good Lodovico –
My lord, pray hasten.
I come.
1.1.101.1[Exit Lodovico.]
1.1.102[To Bellafront] Tomorrow let me see you. Fare you well.
I think he does; but such rude spots of shame
Orlando Frescobaldo, isʼt not?
180Bellafront
Yes, my lord.
What does he for you?
All he should; when children
Shall I join him unto you, and restore you
187Bellafront
It is impossible.
It shall be put to trial. Fare you well.
1.1.114.1Exit Bellafront.
192Antonio
I am bold
1.1.119In these few leaves.
1.1.119.1[He shows Hippolito a book.]
194Hippolito
A book!
195Antonio
Yes, my good lord.
Are you a scholar?
197Antonio
Yes, my lord, a poor one.
Sir you honour me.
202Antonio
Not one,
1.1.125In troth, not one; your name I held more dear.
Your name, I pray?
205Antonio
Antonio Giorgio.
Of Milan?
207Antonio
Yes, my lord.
208Hippolito
Iʼll borrow leave
1.1.129.1[Giving him money]
I fart dy Lady is run away from dee, a mighty 215deal of ground. She sent me back for dine own sweet 216face. I pray dee come, my lord, away; wuʼt tow go now?
Is the coach gone? 218Saddle my horse, the sorrel.
A pox oʼde horseʼs nose! He is a lousy, rascally 220fellow. When I came to gird his belly, his scurvy guts 221rumbled; dy horse farted in my face, and dow knowst an 222Irishman cannot abide a fart. But I have saddled de hobby-horse; 223dy fine hobby is ready. I pray dee, my good sweet lord, 224wiʼt tow go now, and I will run to de devil before dee?
Well, sir. [To Antonio] I pray letʼs see you, Master Scholar.
Come, I pray dee; wuʼt come, sweet face? Go.
1.1.137.1Exeunt
226.1[1.2]
Godso, gentlemen, what do we forget?
What?
Are not we all enjoined as this day – Thursday, isʼt 231not? – ay, as that day to be at the linen-draperʼs house at 232dinner?
Signor Candido, the patient man.
Afore Jove, true; upon this day heʼs married.
I wonder that, being so stung with a wasp 236before, he dares venture again to come about the eaves 237amongst bees.
O, ʼtis rare sucking a sweet honey-comb. Pray 239heaven his old wife be buried deep enough that she rise 240not up to call for her dance. The poor fiddlersʼ instruments 241would crack for it; sheʼd tickle them. At any hand, letʼs try 242what mettle is in his new bride; if there be none, weʼll put 243in some. Troth, itʼs a very noble citizen – I pity he should 244marry again. Iʼll walk along, for it is a good old fellow.
I warrant the wives of Milan would give any 246fellow twenty thousand ducats that could but have the 247face to beg of the Duke that all the citizens in Milan 248might be bound to the peace of patience, as the 249linen-draper is.
O, fie uponʼt! ʼTwould undo all us that are 251courtiers; we should have no ho with the wenches, then.
My lordʼs come.
How now, what news?
None.
Your lady is with the Duke her father.
And weʼll to them both presently.
Whoʼs that?
Signior Frescobaldo.
Frescobaldo? O, pray call him, and leave me; we 261two have business.
Ho, signor! Signor Frescobaldo! –
1.2.18.1Exeunt [all but Hippolito and Orlando].
My noble lord, my lord Hippolito! The Dukeʼs 265son! His brave daughterʼs brave husband! How does 266your honoured lordship? Does your nobility remember so 267poor a gentleman as Signor Orlando Frescobaldo? Old, mad 268Orlando?
O sir, our friends – they ought to be unto us as our 270jewels, as dearly valued being locked up and unseen as when 271we wear them in our hands. I see, Frescobaldo, age hath not 272command of your blood; for all Timeʼs sickle has gone over 273you, you are Orlando still.
Why, my lord, are not the fields mown and cut 275down and stripped bare, and yet wear they not pied coats 276again? Though my head be like a leek, white, may not my 277heart be like the blade, green?
Scarce can I read stories on your brow
I eat snakes, my lord, I eat snakes. 281My heart shall never have a wrinkle in it so long as I can cry 282‘hemʼ with a clear voice.
You are the happier man, sir.
Happy man? Iʼll give you, my lord, the true picture 285of a happy man. I was turning leaves over this morning, 286and found it. An excellent Italian painter drew it. If I have 287it in the right colours, Iʼll bestow it on your lordship.
Iʼll stay for it.
‘He that makes gold his wife, but not his whore,
Itʼs very well. I thank you for this picture.
After this picture, my lord, do I strive to have 303my face drawn. 304For I am not covetous, 305am not in debt, 306sit neither at the Dukeʼs side, 307nor lie at his feet. 308Wenching and I have done. 309No man I wrong; no man I fear; no man I fee. 310I take heed how far I walk, because I know yonderʼs my 311home. 312I would not die like a rich man, to carry nothing away save 313a winding-sheet, 314but like a good man, to leave Orlando behind me. 315I sowed leaves in my youth, and I reap now books in 316my age. 317I fill this hand, and empty this; and when the bell shall toll 318for me, if I prove a swan and go singing to my nest, why, so. 319If a crow, throw me out for carrion and pick out mine eyes. 320May not old Frescobaldo, my lord, be merry now? Ha?
You may. Would I were partner in your mirth.
I have a little, 323have all things. 324I have nothing – I have no wife, I have no child, have no 325chick. And why should not I be in my jocundary?
Is your wife, then, departed?
Sheʼs an old dweller in those high countries, 328yet not from me – [Pointing at his heart] 329here, sheʼs here – but before me; when a knave and a quean 330are married, they commonly walk like sergeants together, 331but a good couple are seldom parted.
You had a daughter too, sir, had you not?
O, my lord! This old tree had one branch, and 334but one branch, growing out of it. It was young, it was 335fair, it was straight. I pruned it daily, dressed it carefully, 336kept it from the wind, helped it to the sun. Yet, for all 337my skill in planting, it grew crooked; it bore crabs. I 338hewed it down. 339Whatʼs become of it I neither know nor care.
Then can I tell you whatʼs become of it:
342Orlando
So ʼtwas long ago.
Her name, I think, was Bellafront. Sheʼs dead.
Ha? Dead?
Yes. What of her was left, not worth the keeping,
Dead! My last and best peace go with her! I see 348Deathʼs a good trencher-man: he can eat coarse, homely meat 349as well as the daintiest.
Why, Frescobaldo, was she homely?
O, my lord! A strumpet is one of the devilʼs vines; 352all the sins, like so many poles, are stuck upright out of 353hell to be her props, that she may spread upon them. And 354when sheʼs ripe, every slave has a pull at her; then must she 355be pressed. The young, beautiful grape sets the teeth of lust 356on edge; yet to taste that lickerish wine is to drink a manʼs 357own damnation. Is she dead?
Sheʼs turned to earth.
Would she were turned to heaven! Umnh, is she dead? 360I am glad the world has lost one of his idols; no 361whoremonger will at midnight beat at the doors. In her grave 362sleep all my shame and her own, and all my sorrows 363and all her sins.
1.2.58.1[He weeps.]
Iʼm glad you are wax, not marble. You are made
In my daughter, you will say. Does she live, then? 378I am sorry I wasted tears upon a harlot. But the best is I 379have a handkercher to drink them up; soap can wash them 380all out again. 381Is she poor?
Trust me, I think she is.
Then sheʼs a right strumpet. I neʼer knew any of 384their trade rich two years together. Sieves can hold no 385water, nor harlots hoard up money. They have many vents, 386too many sluices to let it out; taverns, tailors, bawds, 387panders, fiddlers, swaggerers, fools, and knaves do all 388wait upon a common harlotʼs trencher. She is the 389gallipot to which these drones fly – not for love to the pot, but 390for the sweet sucket within in, her money, her money.
I almost dare pawn my word her bosom gives 392warmth to no such snakes. When did you see her?
Not seventeen summers.
Is your hate so old?
Older. It has a white head and shall never die till 396she be buried; 397her wrongs shall be my bedfellow.
Work yet his life, since in it lives her fame.
No, let him hang, and half her infamy departs out 400of the world. I hate him for her; he taught her first to taste 401poison. I hate her for herself, because she refused my 402physic.
Nay, but, Frescobaldo –
I detest her, I defy both; sheʼs not mine, sheʼs –
Hear her but speak.
I love no mermaids; Iʼll not be caught with a 407quail-pipe!
Youʼre now beyond all reason.
I am, then, a beast. Sir, I had rather be a beast and not 410dishonour my creation than be a doting father and, like Time, 411be the destruction of mine own brood.
Isʼt dotage to relieve your child being poor?
Isʼt fit for an old man to keep a whore?
ʼTis charity too.
415Orlando
ʼTis foolery. Relieve her!
Fare you well, for Iʼll trouble you no more.
And fare you well, sir.
1.2.94.1Exit [Hippolito].
1.2.94.2Go thy ways; we have few 422lords of thy making, that love wenches for their honesty. – 423ʼLas, my girl! Art thou poor? Poverty dwells next door 424to despair; thereʼs but a wall between them. Despair is 425one of hellʼs catchpoles, and lest that devil arrest her Iʼll 426to her. Yet she shall not know me. She shall drink of my 427wealth as beggars do of running water, freely, yet never 428know from what fountainʼs head it flows. Shall a silly 429bird pick her own breast to nourish her young ones, and 430can a father see his child starve? That were hard. The 431pelican does it, and shall not I? Yes, I will victual the camp 432for her, but it shall be by some stratagem. That knave there, 433her husband, will be hanged, I fear. Iʼll keep his neck out 434of the noose if I can; he shall not know how.
To seek your worship.
Stay, which of you has my purse? What money 439have you about you?
Some fifteen or sixteen pounds, sir.
Give it me. I think I have some gold about me. Yes, 442itʼs well. [Exchanging money] Leave my lodging at court, and get you home. [To 1 Servingman] 443Come, sir, though I never turned any man out of doors, yet Iʼll 444be so bold as to pull your coat over your ears.
1.2.98.1[He pulls off 1 Servingmanʼs coat.]
What do you mean to do, sir?
Hold thy tongue, knave; [Exchanging garments] take thou my cloak. I hope I 447play not the paltry merchant in this bartering. Bid the 448steward of my house sleep with open eyes in my absence, 449and to look to all things. Whatsoever I command by letters 450to be done by you, see it done. So, does it sit well?
As if it were made for your worship.
You proud varlets, you need not be ashamed to 453wear blue, when your master is one of your fellows. Away! 454Do not see me.
This is excellent.
1.2.103.1Exeunt [Servingmen].
I should put on a worse suit, too; perhaps I will. 457My vizard is on; now to this masque. [Touching his beard] Say I should shave off 458this honour of an old man, or tie it up shorter? Well, I will 459spoil a good face for once. My beard being off, how should 460I look? Even like
1.2.106.1Exit.
462.2[1.3]
1.3.0.1463[Servants bring in dinner table etc. for a wedding feast.] Enter Candido, Lodovico, [Astolfo], and Carolo, [1 Guest wearing a very tall, pointed hat], other 464Guests [wearing citizensʼ caps], and [the] Bride with [Luke and other] Prentices. [The Gentlemen stand while the Bride and the Guests sit.]
O gentlemen, so late? Youʼre very welcome;
1.3.2.1[The Gentlemen sit down.]
Carolo, didst eʼer see such a nest of caps?
Methinks 469itʼs a most civil and most comely sight.
[Indicating 1 Guest] What does he iʼthʼ middle look like?
Troth, like a spire steeple in a country village 472overpeering so many thatched houses.
Itʼs, rather, a long pike-staff against so many 474bucklers without pikes; they sit for all the world like a pair of 475organs, and heʼs the tall great roaring pipe iʼthʼ midst.
Ha, ha, ha, ha!
Whatʼs that you laugh at, signors?
Troth, shall I tell you, and aloud Iʼll tell it:
Mine is as tall a felt as any is this day in Milan; and 482therefore I love it, for the block was cleft out for my head, 483and fits me to a hair.
[To the Gentlemen] Indeed, you are good observers; it shows strange.
Prithee, sweet bridegroom, doʼt.
So all these guests will pardon me, Iʼll doʼt.
With all our hearts.
492Candido
[Raising his cap] Thus, then, in the capʼs honour.
Proceed.
Each degree has his fashion. Itʼs fit, then,
That close shaving made barbers a company, 515and now every citizen uses it.
Of geometric figures the most rare
1.3.65.1[He lays down his cap, and puts on 1 Guestʼs hat.]
Ha, ha, ha! Most vile, most ugly!
[Returning the hat to 1 Guest]
1.3.67.1Pray, signor, pardon me; ʼtwas done in jest.
[To Prentices] A cup of claret wine there!
Wine? Yes, forsooth, wine for the bride!
1.3.69.1[He pours out a glass of red wine.]
[To Candido] You haʼ well set out the cap, sir.
Nay, thatʼs flat.
A health!
Since his capʼs round, that 546shall go round. Be bare,
1.3.74.1[They bare their heads. 1 Prentice offers] the Bride [sack in a cup. She] hits the Prentice on the lips.
O, peace, I pray thee. Though far off I stand,
1.3.79[Indicating the cup of sack] That cup give me: ʼtis for an old manʼs back,
554All [but 1 Prentice]
No, faith, ʼtwas but mistaken.
Nay, she took it right enough.
[To Luke] Good Luke, reach her that glass of claret.
1.3.83.1[Luke gives her the glass of red wine.]
558Bride
Now Iʼll none.
1.3.84.1[She breaks the glass and] exit.
How now?
[To 1 Prentice] Look what your mistress ails.
Nothing, sir, but about filling a wrong glass – a scurvy 562trick.
I pray you, hold your tongue. –
Step to her, step to her.
[To Candido] A word with you – do ye hear? This wench, your 567new wife, will take you down in your wedding shoes, 568unless you hang her up in her wedding-garters.
How, hang her in her garters?
Will you be a tame pigeon still? Shall your back 571be like a tortoise-shell, to let carts go over it yet not to 572break? This she-cat will have more lives than your last 573puss had, and will scratch worse and mouse you worse; 574look toʼt.
What would you have me do, sir?
What would I have you do? Swear, swagger, 577brawl, fling! For fighting itʼs no matter; we haʼ had knocking 578pusses enough already. You know that a woman was made of 579the rib of a man, and that rib was crooked. The moral of 580which is that a man must from his beginning be crooked 581to his wife. Be you like an orange to her: let her cut you never 582so fair, be you sour as vinegar. Will you be ruled by me?
In anything thatʼs civil, honest, and just.
Have you ever a prenticeʼs suit will fit me?
I have the very same which myself wore.
Iʼll send my man forʼt within this half hour, and 587within this two hours Iʼll be your prentice. The hen shall 588not overcrow the cock; Iʼll sharpen your spurs.
It will be but some jest, sir?
Only a jest. Farewell. – Come, Carolo.
1.3.101.1Exeunt [Lodovico, Carolo, and Astolfo].
Weʼll take our leaves, sir, too.
592Candido
Pray conceit not ill
1.3.104Sir Lodovico, is deep seen in physic,
1.3.109That hit his lips, and brake the glass. No harm;
599Guests
No, signor, none at all.
The straightest arrow may fly wide by chance.
1.3.112.1Exeunt.
601.1[2.1]
O my sweet husband, wert thou in thy grave
Dost know me? [Giving her his cloak] My cloak, prithee, layʼt up. Yes, 606faith, my winding-sheet was taken out of lavender, to be 607stuck with rosemary. I lacked but the knot here or here. 608Yet if I had had it, I should haʼ made a wry mouth at the 609world like a plaice. But, sweetest villain, I am here now, and 610I will talk with thee soon.
And glad am I thouʼrt here.
Did these heels caper in shackles? Ah, my little 613plump rogue, Iʼll bear up for all this, and fly high. Catso, 614catso!
Mattheo –
What sayst, what sayst? O brave fresh air! A pox 617on these grates, and jingling of keys, and rattling of iron. 618Iʼll bear up, Iʼll fly high, wench. Hang? Toss!
Mattheo, prithee make thy prison thy glass,
Iʼll go visit all the mad rogues now, and the good 623roaring boys.
Thou dost not hear me?
Yes, faith, do I.
Thou hast been in the hands of misery,
Yes. ʼSfoot, I wonder how the inside of a tavern 629looks now. O, when shall I bezzle, bezzle?
Nay, see, thouʼrt thirsty still for poison! Come,
632Mattheo
Honest apeʼs face!
ʼTis that sharpened an axe to cut thy throat.
Bellafront, Bellafront, I protest to thee, I swear, as I 648hope for my soul, I will turn over a new leaf. The prison, I 649confess, has bit me; the best man that sails in such a ship 650may be lousy.
2.1.33.1[Knocking within.]
One knocks at door.
Iʼll be the porter. They shall see a jail cannot hold 653a brave spirit – Iʼll fly high!
2.1.35.1Exit.
How wild is his behaviour! O, I fear
Come in, pray. Would you speak with me, sir?
Is your name Signor Mattheo?
My name is Signor Mattheo.
Is this gentlewoman your wife, sir?
This gentlewoman is my wife, sir.
The destinies spin a strong and even thread of both 666your loves! [Aside] The motherʼs own face; I haʼ not forgot that. [He weeps.] Iʼm 667an old man, sir, and am troubled with a whoreson salt rheum, 668that I cannot hold my water. – Gentlewoman, the last man I 669served was your father.
My father? Any tongue that sounds his name
[Weeping.] I can speak no more.
How now, old lad? What, dost cry?
The rheum still, sir, nothing else. I should be well 678seasoned, for mine eyes lie in brine. Look you, sir, I have a 679suit to you.
What isʼt, my little white pate?
Troth, sir, I have a mind to serve your worship.
To serve me? Troth, my friend, my fortunes are, as 683a man may say –
Nay, look you, sir. I know when all sins are old 685in us, and go upon crutches, that covetousness does but 686then lie in her cradle. ʼTis not so with me. Lechery loves 687to dwell in the fairest lodging, and covetousness in the 688oldest buildings, that are ready to fall; but my white head, 689sir, is no inn for such a gossip. If a servingman at my years 690be not stored with with biscuit enough, that has sailed about the 691world, to serve him the voyage out of his life, and to bring 692him east home, ill pity but all his days should be fasting 693days. I care not so much for wages, for I have scraped a 694handful of gold together. I have a little money, sir, which 695I would put into your worshipʼs hands, not so much to 696make it more –
No, no, you say well, thou sayst well. But I must 698tell you – how much is the money, sayst thou?
About twenty pound, sir.
Twenty pound? Let me see; that shall bring thee in, 701after ten per centum per annum –
No, no, no, sir, no; I cannot abide to have money 703engender. Fie upon this silver lechery, fie! If I may have 704meat to my mouth, and rags to my back, and a flock-bed 705to snort upon, when I die the longer liver take all.
A good old boy, iʼfaith! If thou servʼst me, thou shalt 707eat as I eat, drink as I drink, lie as I lie, and ride as I ride.
[Aside] Thatʼs if you have money to hire horses.
Front, what dost thou think onʼt? This good old 710lad here shall serve me.
Alas, Mattheo, wilt thou load a back
[Aside to her] Peace, pox on you, peace! Thereʼs a trick inʼt. I 714fly high. It shall be so, Front, as I tell you. [Aloud to Orlando] Give me thy hand; 715thou shalt serve me, iʼfaith. Welcome. As for your money –
Nay, look you, sir, I have it here.
Pish, keep it thyself, man, and then thouʼrt sure ʼtis 718safe.
Safe? An ʼtwere ten thousand ducats your worship 720should be my cash-keeper. I have heard what your 721worship is – [Aside] An excellent dunghill cock, to scatter all abroad! – 722But Iʼll venture twenty pounds onʼs head.
2.1.71.1[Gives him the money.]
And didst thou serve my worshipful 724father-in-law, Signor Orlando Frescobaldo, that madman, once?
I served him so long till he turned me out of doors.
Itʼs a notable chuff; I haʼ not seen him many a day.
No matter an you neʼer see him; itʼs an arrant 728grandee, a churl, and as damned a cut-throat –
Thou villain, curb thy tongue! Thou art a Judas,
[To her] Away, ass! He speaks but truth. Thy father is a –
Gentleman.
And an old knave. Thereʼs more deceit in him than 734in sixteen ʼpothecaries. Itʼs a devil! Thou mayst beg, starve, 735hang, damn – does he send thee so much as a cheese?
Or so much as a gammon of bacon? 737Heʼll give it his dogs first.
A javel, a javel.
A Jew, a Jew, sir.
A dog.
An English mastiff, sir.
Pox rot out his old stinking garbage!
[To him] Art not ashamed to strike an absent man thus?
Your doors? A vengeance! I shall live to cut that old 748rogueʼs throat, for all you take his part thus.
[Aside] He shall live to see thee hanged first.
Godso, my lord, your lordship is most welcome.
753Hippolito
Was bold to see you.
755Mattheo
Yes, sir.
756Hippolito
Iʼll borrow her lip.
With all my heart, my lord.
2.1.96.1[Hippolito kisses Bellafront and takes her aside.]
Whoʼs this, I pray, sir?
My lord Hippolito. Whatʼs thy name?
Pacheco.
Pacheco? Fine name! Thou seest, Pacheco, I keep 762company with no scoundrels, nor base fellows.
[Aside to Bellafront] Came not my footman to you?
764Bellafront
Yes, my Lord.
I sent by him a diamond and a letter;
767Bellafront
Yes my lord, I did.
Read you the letter?
769Bellafront
Oʼer and oʼer ʼtis read.
And, faith, your answer?
771Bellafront
Now the timeʼs not fit;
773Hippolito
Iʼll now then leave you,
777Mattheo
A glass of wine?
Not now, Iʼll visit you at other times.
Excellent well, I thank your lordship. I owe you 781my life, my lord, and will pay my best blood in any service 782of yours.
Iʼll take no such dear payment. Hark you, Mattheo, 784I know the prison is a gulf. If money run low with you, 785my purse is yours; call for it.
Faith, my lord, I thank my stars they send me 787down some. I cannot sink so long as these bladders hold.
I will not see your fortunes ebb. Pray try;
[To Orlando] Open the door, sirrah.
[Aside to Orlando at the door] Drink this [Giving him money]; and anon I pray thee give thy mistress 792this [Giving him a purse].
2.1.118.1Exit.
[Aside] O noble spirit! If no worse guests here dwell,
The only royal fellow! Heʼs bounteous as the Indies. 796Whatʼs that he said to thee, Bellafront?
Nothing.
I prithee, good girl –
Why, I tell you – nothing.
Nothing? Itʼs well. Tricks! That I must be 801beholden to a scald, hot-livered, goatish gallant to stand with my 802cap in my hand, and vail bonnet, when I haʼ spread as lofty 803sails as himself! Would I had been hanged. Nothing? – 804Pacheco, brush my cloak.
Where isʼt, sir?
Come, weʼll fly high.
2.1.128.1Exit.
[Aside] My twenty pounds fly high! O wretched woman,
Fellow, begone, I pray thee. If thy tongue
Zounds, I hope he will not play upon me.
Play on thee? No, you two will fly together,
2.1.139Weave thy nets neʼer so high,
You have small reason to take his part, for I have 827heard him say five hundred times you were as arrant a 828whore as ever stiffened tiffany neckcloths in water-starch 829upon a Saturday iʼthʼ afternoon.
Let him say worse! When, for the earthʼs offence,
And so, if your father call you whore, youʼll not call 834him old knave. [Aside] Frescobaldo, she carries thy mind up and 835down; sheʼs thine own flesh, blood, and bone. [Aloud] Troth, 836mistress, to tell you true, the fireworks that ran from me upon 837lines against my good old master, your father, were but to 838try how my young master, your husband, loved such squibs. 839But itʼs well known I love your father as myself. Iʼll ride 840for him at midnight, run for you by owl-light; Iʼll die 841for him, drudge for you; Iʼll fly low, and Iʼll fly high (as 842my master says), to do you good, if youʼll forgive me.
I am not made of marble; I forgive thee.
Nay, if you were made of marble, a good 845stone-cutter might cut you. I hope the twenty pound I delivered 846to my master is in a sure hand.
In a sure hand, I warrant thee, for spending.
I see my young master is a madcap and a bonus socius. 849I love him well, mistress. Yet, as well as I love him, Iʼll not 850play the knave with you. Look you, I could cheat you of 851this purse full of money; but I am an old lad, and I scorn 852to cony-catch. Yet I haʼ been dog at a cony in my time.
2.1.154.1[He gives her the purse.]
A purse! Where hadst it?
The gentleman that went away whispered in mine 855ear and charged me to give it you.
The lord Hippolito?
Yes, if he be a lord; he gave it me.
ʼTis all gold.
ʼTis like so. It may be he thinks you want money, 860and therefore bestows his alms bravely, like a lord.
He thinks a silver net can catch the poor;
As your nails to your fingers, which I think 865never deceived you.
Thou to this lord shalt go. Commend me to him,
2.1.171If not, by this.
2.1.171.1[She gives him Hippolitoʼs purse, diamond ring, and letter.]
872Orlando
Is this all?
873Bellafront
This is all.
[Aside] Mine own girl still!
875Bellafront
A star may shoot, not fall.
2.1.172.1Exit Bellafront.
A star? Nay, thou art more than the moon, for 877thou hast neither changing quarters nor a man standing in 878thy circle with a bush of thorns. Isʼt possible the lord 879Hippolito, whose face is as civil as the outside of a 880dedicatory book, should be a mutton-monger? A poor man has 881but one ewe, and this grandee sheep-biter leaves whole 882flocks of fat wethers whom he may knock down, 883to devour this! Iʼll trust neither lord nor butcher with 884quick flesh for this trick. The cuckoo, I see now, sings all 885the year, though every man cannot hear him. But Iʼll 886spoil his notes. Can neither love-letters nor the devilʼs 887common picklocks, gold nor precious stones, make my 888girl draw up her portcullis? Hold out still, wench!
2.1.175.1Exit.
890.1[2.2]
2.2.0.1891Enter Candido, Lodovico like a Prentice, [wearing false hair, and two Prentices, in the shop.]
Come, come, come, what do ye lack, sir? What 893do ye lack, sir? What isʼt ye lack, sir? Is not my worship 894well suited? Did you ever see a gentleman better disguised?
Never, believe me, signor.
Yes – but when he has been drunk. There be 897prentices would make mad gallants, for they would spend all, and 898drink, and whore, and so forth; and I see we gallants could 899make mad prentices. How does thy wife like me? Nay, I 900must not be so saucy; then I spoil all. Pray you, how does 901my mistress like me?
902Candido
Well; for she takes you for a very simple fellow.
And they that are taken for such are commonly 904the arrantest knaves. But to our comedy, come.
I shall not act it. Chide, you say, and fret,
ʼSblood, cannot you do as all the world does: 908counterfeit?
Were I a painter, that should live by drawing
Remember youʼre a linen-draper, and that if you 913give your wife a yard, sheʼll take an ell. Give her not, 914therefore, a quarter of your yard, not a nail.
Say I should turn to ice, and nip her love
917Lodovico
Well, say sheʼs nipped.
It will so overcharge her heart with grief
Die? Never, never! I do not bid you beat her, nor 924give her black eyes, nor pinch her sides; but cross her 925humours. Are not bakersʼ arms the scales of justice, yet 926is not their bread light? And may not you, I pray, bridle her 927with a sharp bit, yet ride her gently?
Well, I will try your pills.
2.2.23Or else I shall be out clean.
931Lodovico
Come, come, Iʼll prompt you.
Iʼll call her forth now, shall I?
933Lodovico
Do, do, bravely.
[Calling out] Luke, I pray, bid your mistress to come hither.
[Calling out] Luke, I pray, bid your mistress to come hither.
[Calling out] Sirrah, bid my wife come to me. Why, when?
(Within) Presently, sir. She comes.
La you, thereʼs the echo. She comes.
2.2.29.1Enter [the] Bride.
What is your pleasure with me?
940Candido
Marry, wife,
Yes indeed, sir, I would deal in linen, if my 945mistress like me so well as I like her.
I hope to find him honest. Pray, good wife,
Youʼre best to let him hire me for his maid.
950Candido
Even so?
952Lodovico
[Aside to him] Swear, cry ‘zoundsʼ!
I will not – go to, wife – I will not –
[Aside to him] That your great oath?
– swallow these gudgeons!
[Aside to him] Well said.
Then fast; then you may choose.
958Candido
You know at table
Even what you will.
963Lodovico
[Aside to him] Call her arrant whore.
[Aside to Lodovico] O fie, by no means! Then sheʼll call me cuckold.
[Aside to him] How does this show?
[Aside to him] Excellent well. [Aloud] Iʼll go look to the shop, sir. – Fine 967cambrics, lawns! What do you lack?
2.2.51.1Exit Lodovico [into the shop].
A curst cowʼs milk I haʼ drunk once before,
971Bride
You may, sir, if you can;
And so youʼll throw me? [Calling out] Reach me, knaves, a yard.
[Calling out] A yard for my master.
2.2.58.1Lodovico returns with a yardstick from the shop, followed by the two Prentices.
My master is grown valiant.
[To the Bride] Iʼll teach you fencing tricks.
Rare, rare! A prize!
What will you do, sir?
Marry, my good prentice, nothing but breathe my wife.
Breathe me with your yard?
No, heʼll but measure you out, forsooth.
Since you‘ll needs fence, handle your weapon well,
986Lodovico
An ell for my mistress.
2.2.68.1[He fetches an ell-wand from the shop.]
2.2.69987[Aside to Candido] Keep the laws of the noble science, sir, and measure weapons 988with her. Your yard is a plain heathenish weapon. ʼTis too 989short. She may give you a handful, and yet youʼll not reach her.
[Aside to him] Yet I haʼ the longer arm.
[Aloud to the Bride] Come, fall toʼt roundly,
ʼTis for the breeches, isʼt not?
995Candido
For the breeches.
Husband, I am for you. Iʼll not strike in jest.
Nor I.
998Bride
But will you sign to one request?
Whatʼs that?
1000Bride
Let me give the first blow.
The first blow, wife?
[Aside to Lodovico] Shall I? Prompt.
1002Lodovico
[Aside to Candido] Let her haʼt;
[Aloud to the Bride] A bargain. Strike.
1005Bride
Then guard from you this blow;
Thou winst the day indeed. Give me thy hand.
2.2.92.1[He takes her by the hand and raises her.]
1022Bride
Who, your man?
My man? My master, though his head be bare;
Nay, if your service be so hot a man cannot keep 1026his hair on, Iʼll serve you no longer.
2.2.99.1[He takes off his false hair.]
Is this your schoolmaster?
Yes, faith, wench; I taught him to take thee down. 1029I hope thou canst take him down without teaching. You 1030haʼ got the conquest, and you both are friends.
Bear witness else.
1032Lodovico
My prenticeship then ends.
For the good service you to me have done
1035Lodovico
I thank you, master.
2.2.106.1[Kisses her.] Exeunt.
1037.1[3.1]
3.1.0.11038Enter Orlando [as Pacheco, with Hippolitoʼs letter, purse, and diamond ring], and Infelice.
From whom, sayst thou?
From a poor gentlewoman, madam, whom I serve.
And whatʼs your business?
This, madam: my poor mistress has a waste piece 1043of ground, which is her own by inheritance, and left to 1044her by her mother. Thereʼs a lord now that goes about, 1045not to take it clean from her, but to enclose it to himself, 1046and to join it to a piece of his lordshipʼs.
What would she have me do in this?
No more, madam, but what one woman should 1049do for another in such a case. My honourable lord your 1050husband would do anything in her behalf, but she had 1051rather put herself into your hands, because you, a woman, 1052may do more with the Duke your father.
Where lies this land?
Within a stoneʼs throw of this place. My mistress 1055would be content to let him enjoy it after her decease, if 1056that would serve his turn, so my master would yield too; 1057but she cannot abide to hear that the lord should meddle 1058with it in her lifetime.
Is she, then, married? Why stirs not her husband 1060in it?
Her husband stirs in it underhand. But, because 1062the other is a great rich man, my master is loath to be seen 1063in it too much.
Let her in writing draw the cause at large,
[Holding up Hippolitoʼs letter] ʼTis set down, madam, here in black and white 1067already. Work it so, madam, that she may keep her own 1068without disturbance, grievance, molestation, or meddling of 1069any other, and she bestows this purse of gold on your 1070ladyship.
3.1.13.1[He holds up Hippolitoʼs purse.]
Old man, Iʼll plead for her, but take no fees.
I would all proctorsʼ clerks were of your mind; 1075I should law more amongst them than I do, then. Here, 1076madam, is the survey, not only of the manor itself, but of 1077the grange house, with every meadow, pasture, 1078plough-land, cony-burrow, fish-pond, hedge, ditch, and bush 1079that stands in it.
3.1.17.1[He gives her the letter.]
[Reading the letter] My husbandʼs name and hand and seal at arms
From the foresaid party, madam, that would keep 1083the foresaid land out of the foresaid lordʼs fingers.
My lord turned ranger now?
Youʼre a good huntress, lady; you haʼ found your 1086game already. Your lord would fain be a ranger, but my 1087mistress requests you to let him run a course in your own 1088park. If youʼll not doʼt for love, then doʼt for money. She 1089has no white money, but thereʼs gold [Giving her the purse]; or else she prays you 1090to ring him by this token [Giving her the diamond ring], and so you shall be sure his nose 1091will not be rooting other menʼs pastures.
This very purse was woven with mine own hands;
Not I, madam; old servingmen want no money.
[Reading] Cupid himself was sure his secretary!
I do not think, madam, but he fetched off some 1102poet or other for those lines, for they are parlous hawks 1103to fly at wenches.
Hereʼs honeyed poison! To me he neʼer thus writ;
Nay, thatʼs true, madam; a wench will whet 1107anything, if it be not too dull.
Oaths, promises, preferments, jewels, gold –
One of those creatures that are contrary to man – 1112a woman.
What manner of woman?
A little tiny woman, lower than your ladyship by 1115head and shoulders, but as mad a wench as ever unlaced a 1116petticoat. These things should I indeed have delivered to my 1117lord your husband.
They are delivered better. Why should she
1120Orlando
ʼWare, ʼware, thereʼs knavery!
Strumpets, like cheating gamesters, will not win
The Irish footman can tell you all his hunting 1125hours, the park he hunts in, the doe he would strike. That 1126Irish shackatory beats the bush for him, and knows all. 1127He brought that letter and that ring; he is the carrier.
Knowst thou what other gifts have passed between 1129them?
Little Saint Patrick knows all.
Him Iʼll examine presently.
Not whilst I am here, sweet madam.
Begone then, and what lies in me command.
3.1.52.1Exit Orlando.
Come hither, sirrah. How much cost those satins
Faat satins, faat silvers, faat low gentlefolks? 1139Dow pratʼst dow knowst not what, iʼfaat, la.
She there, to whom you carried letters.
By dis hand and bod dow sayst true, if I did so, O 1142how? I know not a letter oʼde book, iʼfaat, la.
Did your lord never send you with a ring, sir,
Never, sa Crees saʼ me, never! He may run at a 1146towsand rings, iʼfaat, and I never hold his stirrup till he leap 1147into de saddle. By Saint Patrick, madam, I never touch my lordʼs 1148diamond, nor ever had to, iʼfaat, la, with any of his 1149precious stones.
Are you so close, you bawd, you pandʼring slave?
3.1.62.1[She strikes Brian.]
How now? Why, Infelice, whatʼs your quarrel?
[To Brian] Out of my sight, base varlet, get thee gone!
Away, you rogue!
Slawne loot, fare de well, fare de well. Ah marragh 1156frofat boddah breen.
3.1.66.1Exit.
What, grown a fighter? Prithee, whatʼs the matter?
If youʼll needs know, it was about the clock.
Lest you cuff me, Iʼll tell you presently.
1162Infelice
[Consulting her watch] How, two? I am scarce at one.
One of us then goes false.
1164Infelice
Then sure ʼtis you;
I think indeed mine runs somewhat too fast.
Set it to mine, at one, then.
1168Hippolito
One? ʼTis past;
1170Infelice
Faith, then, belike
Youʼre very pleasant, madam.
1175Infelice
Yet not merry.
Why, Infelice, what should make you sad?
Nothing, my lord, but my false watch. Pray tell me:
1181Hippolito
Faith, on both.
All is not well indeed, my dearest lord;
1191Hippolito
What means this?
Or if my own tongue must myself betray,
3.1.97.1She kneels.
1195Hippolito
Why do you kneel?
Earth is sinʼs cushion; when the sick soul feels
3.1.103And given it to a slave.
1201Hippolito
Ha?
1202Infelice
On thy pillow
3.1.104Adultery and lust have slept. Thy groom
ʼSdeath! Who? – A cuckold! – Who?
1206Infelice
This Irish footman.
Worse than damnation! A wild kern, a frog,
3.1.112.1[She clings to his garment.]
Bold strumpet,
3.1.114To a whore because sheʼs noble?
1213Infelice
I beg but this:
1217Hippolito
Darkened? My horns
3.1.128.1[She rises.]
1233Infelice
Hippolito!
Tell me, didst thou bait hooks to draw him to 1235thee,
3.1.134Or did he bewitch thee?
1236Infelice
The slave did woo me.
Tu-whoos in that screech-owlsʼs language?
ʼTwas thus: he gave me this battery first.
3.1.141.1[She gives him the letter.]
O, I
3.1.142.1[She gives him the purse.]
3.1.143.1[She gives him the diamond ring.]
1254Hippolito
[Laughing] Yes, guilty, my good lady.
Nay, you may laugh, but henceforth shun my bed;
3.1.153.1Exit.
Oʼerreached so finely? ʼTis the very diamond
(Within) My lord calls.
Send me the footman.
[Within] Call the footman to my lord. – Brian, Brian!
It can be no man else – that Irish Judas,
Faat meanst thou by this, now?
Question me not, nor tempt my fury, villain!
Iʼfaat, I care not.
Prate not, but get thee gone; I shall send else.
Ay, do, pridee! I had rather have thee make a scabbard 1276of my guts, and let out all de Irish puddings in my poor 1277belly, den to be a false knave to dee, iʼfaat. I will never see 1278dine own sweet face more. A mawhid deer a gra! 1279Fare dee well, fare dee well! I will go steal cows again in Ireland.
3.1.171.1Exit.
Heʼs damned that raised this whirlwind, which 1281hath blown
3.1.181.1Exit.
1290.1[3.2]
How now, what ails your master?
Hʼas taken a younger brotherʼs purge, forsooth, and 1294that works with him.
Where is his cloak and rapier?
He has given up his cloak, and his rapier is bound 1297to the peace. If you look a little higher, you may see that 1298another hath entered into hatband for him too. Six and 1299four have put him into this sweat.
Whereʼs all his money?
ʼTis put over by exchange. His doublet was going to 1302be translated, but for me. If any man would haʼ lent but 1303half a ducat on his beard, the hair of it had stuffed a pair 1304of breeches by this time. I had but one poor penny, and 1305that I was glad to niggle out and buy a holly-wand to grace 1306him through the street. As hap was, his boots were on, and 1307them I dustied, to make people think he had been riding 1308and I had run by him.
O me! [To Mattheo] How does my sweet Mattheo?
O rogue, of what devilish stuff are these dice 1311made of? Of the parings of the devilʼs corns of his toes, 1312that they run thus damnably?
I prithee, vex not.
If any handicraftsman was ever suffered to keep 1315shop in hell, it will be a dice-maker. Heʼs able to undo 1316more souls than the devil; I played with mine own dice, 1317yet lost. Haʼ you any money?
ʼLas, I haʼ none.
Must have money, must have some, must have a 1320cloak and rapier and things. Will you go set your 1321lime-twigs and get me some birds, some money?
What lime-twigs should I set?
You will not, then? Must have cash and pictures. 1324Do ye hear, frailty? Shall I walk in a Plymouth cloak, 1325thatʼs to say like a rogue, in my hose and doublet, and a 1326crab-tree cudgel in my hand, and you swim in your 1327satins? Must have money, come!
3.2.14.1[Taking off her gown.]
Isʼt bedtime, master, that you undo my mistress?
Undo me? Yes, yes, at these riflings 1330I
3.2.17Have been too often.
1331Mattheo
Help to flay, Pacheco.
Flaying call you it?
[To Bellafront] Iʼll pawn you, by thʼLord, to your very eyebrows.
With all my heart; since heaven will have me poor,
Why, hear you, sir? Iʼfaith, do not make away her 1337gown.
O, itʼs summer, itʼs summer; your only fashion 1339for a woman now is to be light, to be light.
Why, pray, sir, employ some of that money you have 1341of mine.
Thine? Iʼll starve first, Iʼll beg first; when I touch a 1343penny of that, let these fingersʼ ends rot.
[Aside] So they may, for thatʼs past touching. I saw my 1345twenty pounds fly high.
Knowst thou never a damned broker about the 1347city?
Damned broker? Yes – five hundred.
The gown stood me in above twenty ducats; 1350borrow ten of it. Cannot live without silver.
Iʼll make what I can of it, sir; Iʼll be your broker.
3.2.33.1Exit [with Bellafrontʼs gown. She weeps.]
How now, little chick? What ailst? Weeping 1355for a handful of tailorʼs shreds? Pox on them! Are there 1356not silks enough at mercerʼs?
I care not for gay feathers, I.
What dost care for, then? Why dost grieve?
Why do I grieve? A thousand sorrows strike
ʼTwas your profession before I married you.
Umh! It was, indeed: if all men should be branded
Why, do as all of your occupation do against 1374quarter-days: break up house, remove, shift your 1375lodgings. Pox oʼyour quarters!
Whereʼs this gallant?
Signor Lodovico! How does my little Mirror of 1379Knighthood? This is kindly done, iʼfaith. Welcome, by my 1380troth.
And how dost, frolic? – Save you, fair lady. – Thou 1382lookst smug and bravely, noble Mat.
Drink and feed, laugh and lie warm.
Is this thy wife?
A poor gentlewoman, sir, whom I make use of 1386a-nights.
Pay custom to your lips, sweet lady.
3.2.58.1[He kisses her.]
Iʼll send forʼt then, iʼfaith.
You send forʼt? [To Bellafront] Some wine, I prithee.
[Aside to him] I haʼ no money.
[Aside to her] ʼSblood, nor I. [Aloud] What wine love you, signor?
[Giving money to Bellafront]
3.2.64.2Exit Bellafront.
Troth, none. O, signor, we haʼ been merry in our 1398days!
And no doubt shall again. 1400The divine powers
You say true.
Why should we grieve at want? 1404Say the world made thee
3.2.75Cannot fill up one corner of thy heart.
I am the most wretched fellow; sure some 1418left-handed priest christened me, I am so unlucky. I am never 1419out of one puddle or another, still falling.
3.2.85.1[He drinks.]
Thanks, good Mattheo. 1424To your own sweet self. [He drinks.]
[Aside to Mattheo] All the brokersʼ hearts, sir, are made of flint. I can 1426with all my knocking strike but six sparks of fire out of 1427them. Hereʼs six ducats, if youʼll take them.
[Aside to him] Give me them. [Taking money] An evil conscience gnaw them all! 1429Moths and plagues hang upon their lousy wardrobes!
Is this your man, Mattheo? An old servingman?
You may give me tʼother half too, sir – 1432thatʼs the beggar.
[To Mattheo] What hast there? Gold?
A sort of rascals are in my debt God knows 1435what, and they feed me with bits, with crumbs. A pox 1436choke them!
A word, Mattheo. Be not angry with me.
1447Mattheo
Thanks, good, noble knight.
Call on me when you please. 1449Till then, farewell.
3.2.103.1Exit.
[To Bellafront] Hast angled? Hast cut up this fresh salmon?
Wouldst have me be so base?
Itʼs base to steal, itʼs base to be a whore.
3.2.107.1Exit.
I hope he will not sneak away with all the money, 1455will he?
Thou seest he does.
Nay, then, itʼs well I set my brains upon an upright 1458last. Though my wits be old, yet they are like a withered 1459pippin, wholesome. Look you, mistress, I told him I had but six 1460ducats of the knave broker, but I had eight, and kept 1461these two for you.
3.2.110.1[He gives her money.]
Thou shouldst have given him all.
1463Orlando
What, to fly high?
Like waves, my misery drives on misery.
3.2.112.1Exit.
Sell his wifeʼs clothes from her back? Does any 1466poultererʼs wife pull chickens alive? He riots all abroad, 1467wants all at home; he dices, whores, swaggers, swears, 1468cheats, borrows, pawns. Iʼll give him hook and line 1469a little more for all this;
3.2.115.1Exit.
1471.1[3.3]
3.3.0.11472Enter at one door Lodovico and Carolo; at another Bots 1473 and Mistress Horseleech. Candido and his Bride 1474appear in the shop.
Hist, hist, Lieutenant Bots, how dost, man?
Whither are you ambling, Madam Horseleech?
About worldly profit, sir. How do your worships?
We want tools, gentlemen, to furnish the trade. 1479They wear out day and night; they wear out till no mettle 1480be left in their back. We hear of two or three new 1481wenches are come up with a carrier, and your old 1482goshawk here [Indicating Horseleech] is flying at them.
[To Horseleech] And, faith, what flesh have you at home?
Ordinary dishes. By my troth, sweet men, thereʼs 1485few good iʼthʼ city. I am as well furnished as any, and, though 1486I say it, as well customed.
We have meats of all sorts of dressing. We have 1488stewed meat for your Frenchman, pretty light picking meat 1489for your Italian, and that which is rotten roasted for Don 1490Spaniardo.
A pox onʼt!
We have poultererʼs ware for your sweet bloods, as 1493dove, chicken, duck, teal, woodcock, and so forth; and 1494butcherʼs meat for the citizen. Yet muttons fall very bad 1495this year.
[Observing Candido and his Bride in the shop] Stay – is not that my patient linen-draper yonder, 1497and my fine young smug mistress, his wife?
[To Horseleech] Sirrah grannam, Iʼll give thee for thy feet twenty 1499crowns, if thou canst but procure me the wearing of yon 1500velvet cap.
Youʼd wear another thing besides the cap. Youʼre 1502a wag.
[To her] Twenty crowns? Weʼll share, and Iʼll be your pulley 1504to draw her on.
Doʼt presently; weʼll haʼ some sport.
[To Lodovico and Carolo] Wheel you about, sweet men. Do you see? Iʼll 1507cheapen wares of the man, whilst Bots is doing with his wife.
Toʼt. If we come into the shop to do you grace, 1509weʼll call you madam.
[Aside to Horseleech as they approach the shop] Pox oʼyour old face! Give it the badge of all scurvy 1511faces, a mask.
3.3.17.1[She puts on a mask.]
What isʼt you lack, gentlewoman? Cambric or 1513lawns, or fine hollands? Pray draw near; I can sell you a 1514pennyworth.
Some cambric for my old lady.
Cambric? You shall; the purest thread in Milan.
[Approaching] Save you, Signor Candido.
How does my noble master? How my fair mistress?
[Showing cambric to Bots]
3.3.23.1My worshipful good servant, view it well,
[To Horseleech] Cry you mercy, madam; though masked, I thought it 1522should be you by your man. [To Candido] Pray, signor, show her the best, 1523for she commonly deals for good ware.
Then this shall fit her. – This is for your ladyship.
3.3.26.1[He and Horseleech talk together.]
[Talking apart to the Bride] A word, I pray. There is a waiting gentlewoman of 1526my ladyʼs. Her name is Ruina; sayʼs sheʼs your kinswoman, 1527and that you should be one of her aunts.
One of her aunts? Troth, sir, I know her not.
If it please you to bestow the poor labour of your 1530legs at any time, I will be your convoy thither.
I am a snail, sir; seldom leave my house. Ifʼt please 1532her to visit me, she shall be welcome.
Do you hear? The naked truth is my lady hath 1534a young knight, her son, who loves you. Youʼre made, if you 1535lay hold uponʼt. This jewel he sends you.
3.3.31.1[He offers a jewel and takes her by the hand.]
Sir, I return his love and jewel with scorn. Let 1537go my hand, or I shall call my husband. You are an arrant 1538knave.
3.3.32.1Exit.
[To Bots] What, will she do?
Do? They shall all do, if Bots sets upon them once. 1541She was as if she had professed the trade, squeamish at first. At 1542last I showed her this jewel; said a knight sent it her.
Isʼt gold, and right stones?
Copper, copper; I go a-fishing with these baits. 1545She nibbled, but would not swallow the hook, because 1546the conger-head her husband was by. But she bids the 1547gentleman name any afternoon, and sheʼll meet him at her 1548garden house, which I know.
Is this no lie, now?
Damn me if –
O prithee, stay there.
The twenty crowns, sir.
Before he [Indicating Carolo] has his work done? But on my knightly 1554word, he shall payʼt thee.
[To Brian] I thought thou hadst been gone into thine own 1557country.
No, faat, la; I cannot go dis four or tree days.
Look thee, yonderʼs the shop, and thatʼs the man 1560himself.
Thou shalt but cheapen, and do as we told thee, to 1562put a jest upon him to abuse his patience.
Iʼfaat, I doubt my pate shall be knocked. But, sa Crees 1564saʼ me, for your shakes I will run to any linen-draper in 1565hell. Come, predee.
Save you, gallants.
O, well met!
[To Horseleech] Youʼll give no more, you say? I cannot take it.
Truly, Iʼll give no more.
1570Candido
It must not fetch it.
3.3.51[To Astolfo, Bernardo, and Fontinell]
[Indicating Brian] Nay, hereʼs the customer.
3.3.52.1Exeunt Bots and Horseleech.
[Aside] The garden house, you say? Weʼll bolt out your 1574roguery.
[To Astolfo, Bernardo, and Fontinell]
3.3.54.1I will but lay these parcels by; my men
3.3.57All Milan cannot sample it.
3.3.57.1[He displays cambric.]
[To him] Do you hear? One, two, three – ʼsfoot, there came in four 1579gallants! Sure your wife is slipped up, and the fourth man, I hold 1580my life, is grafting your warden tree.
Ha, ha, ha! You gentlemen are full of jest.
Have you so? Nay, then –
[To Astolfo, Bernardo, and Fontinell]
3.3.63.1Now, gentlemen, isʼt cambrics?
I predee, now, let me have de best wares.
Whatʼs that he says, pray, gentlemen?
Marry, he says we are like to have the best wars.
The best wars? All are bad. Yet wars do good.
Faat a devil pratʼst tou so? A pox on dee! I predee, 1592let me see some hollen, to make linen shirts, for fear my 1593body be lousy.
Indeed, I understand no word he speaks.
Marry, he says that at the siege in Holland there was 1596much bawdry used among the soldiers, though they were 1597lousy.
It may be so; thatʼs likely – true, indeed.
Pox on de gardens, and de weeds, and de foolʼs 1601cap dere, and de clouts, hear? Dost make a hobby-horse 1602of me?
3.3.74.1[He tears the cambric.]
O fie, he has torn the cambric!
1604Candido
ʼTis no matter.
It frets me to the soul.
1606Candido
So doesʼt not me.
3.3.81.1Exit.
Ha, ha, ha! Come, come; letʼs go, letʼs go.
3.3.82.1Exeunt.
1612.1[4.1]
How am I suited, Front? Am I not gallant, ha?
Yes, sir, you are suited well.
Exceeding, passing well, and to the time.
The tailor has played his part with you.
And I have played a gentlemanʼs part with my 1619tailor, for I owe him for the making of it.
And why did you so, sir?
To keep the fashion. Itʼs your only fashion now 1622of your best rank of gallants to make their tailors wait 1623for their money. Neither were it wisdom, indeed, to pay 1624them upon the first edition of a new suit, for commonly 1625the suit is owing for when the linings are worn out, and 1626thereʼs no reason then that the tailor should be paid 1627before the mercer.
Is this the suit the knight bestowed upon you?
This is the suit, and I need not shame to wear it, 1630for better men than I would be glad to have suits 1631bestowed on them. Itʼs a generous fellow, but – pox on him – we 1632whose pericranions are the very limbecks and stillatories 1633of good wit, and fly high, must drive liquor out of stale 1634gaping oysters. Shallow knight, poor squire Tinacceo! Iʼll 1635make a wild Cathaian of forty such. Hang him, heʼs an ass – 1636heʼs always sober.
This is your fault, to wound your friends still.
No, faith, Front; Lodovico is a noble Slavonian. Itʼs 1639more rare to see him in a womanʼs company than for a 1640Spaniard to go into England and to challenge the English 1641fencers there. [Knocking within.] One knocks – see.
4.1.11.1[Exit Bellafront.]
4.1.12[Sings.] La, fa, sol, la, fa, la. – 1642Rustle in silks and satins! Thereʼs music in this, and a 1643taffeta petticoat; it makes both fly high. Catso!
Mattheo, ʼtis my father!
Ha? Father? Itʼs no matter; he finds no tattered 1648prodigals here.
[To the Men] Is not the door good enough to hold your blue 1650coats? Away, knaves!
4.1.15.1[Exeunt four Men.]
4.1.16Wear not your clothes threadbare 1651at knees for me; beg heavenʼs blessing, not mine. [To Mattheo] O, cry 1652your worship mercy, sir! Was somewhat bold to talk to 1653this gentlewoman your wife here.
[Baring his head] A poor gentlewoman, sir.
Stand not, sir, bare to me. I haʼ read oft
If it offend you, sir, ʼtis for my pleasure.
Your pleasure beʼt, sir. [To both] Umh, is this your palace?
Yes, and our kingdom, for ʼtis our content.
Itʼs a very poor kingdom, then. What, are all your 1662subjects gone a-sheepshearing? Not a maid? Not a man? 1663Not so much as a cat? You keep a good house, belike, just 1664like one of your profession: every room with bare walls, 1665and a half-headed bed to vault upon, as all your 1666bawdy-houses are. Pray, who are your upholsters? O, the spiders, 1667I see; they bestow hangings upon you.
Bawdy-house? Zounds, sir –
O sweet Mattheo, peace.
4.1.26.1[To Orlando, kneeling]
Upon my knees
Pox on him! Kneel to a dog?
1676Bellafront
She thatʼs a whore
No acquaintance with it? What maintains thee, 1681then? How dost live, then? Has thy husband any lands, any 1682rents coming in, any stock going, any ploughs jogging, 1683any ships sailing? Hast thou any wares to turn, so much 1684as to get a single penny by?
4.1.37Yes, thou hast ware to sell;
Do you hear, sir? –
So, sir, I do hear, sir, more of you than you dream I do.
You fly a little too high, sir.
Why, sir, too high?
I haʼ suffered your tongue, like a barred cater-trey, to 1691run all this while, and haʼ not stopped it.
Well, sir, you talk like a gamester.
If you come to bark at her because sheʼs a poor 1694rogue, look you, hereʼs a fine path, sir, and there, there, the 1695door.
Mattheo!
Your blue-coats stay for you, sir. 1698I love a good honest roaring boy, and so –
Thatʼs the devil.
Sir, sir, Iʼll haʼ no Joves in my house to thunder 1701avaunt. She shall live and be maintained when you, like a 1702keg of musty sturgeon, shall stink. Where? In your coffin. 1703How? Be a musty fellow, and lousy.
I know she shall be maintained, but how? Sheʼs like a 1705quean, thou like a knave. She like a whore, thou like a 1706thief.
Thief? Zounds! Thief?
Good, dearest Mat! – Father!
Pox on you both! Iʼll not be braved. New satin 1710scorns to be put down with bare bawdy velvet. Thief!
Ay, thief. Thouʼrt a murderer, a cheater, a 1712whoremonger, a pot-hunter, a borrower, a beggar –
Dear father –
An old ass, a dog, a churl, a chuff, an usurer, a 1715villain, a moth, a mangy mule with an old velvet 1716foot-cloth on his back, sir.
O me!
Varlet, for this Iʼll hang thee.
Ha, ha! Alas!
Thou keepst a man of mine here, under my nose.
Under thy beard.
As arrant a smell-smock, for an old mutton-monger, 1723as thyself.
No, as yourself.
As arrant a purse-taker as ever cried ‘Stand!ʼ, yet a 1726good fellow, I confess, and valiant. But heʼll bring thee to thʼ1727gallows; you both have robbed of late two poor country 1728pedlars.
Howʼs this? Howʼs this? Dost thou fly high? Rob 1730pedlars? – Bear witness, Front! – Rob pedlars? My man and I a 1731thief?
[To Orlando] O sir, no more!
Ay, knave, two pedlars. Hue and cry is up, warrants 1734are out, and I shall see thee climb a ladder.
And come down again as well as a bricklayer or 1736a tiler. [Aside] How the vengeance knows he this? [Aloud] If I be 1737hanged, Iʼll tell the people I married old Frescobaldoʼs daughter. 1738Iʼll frisco you, and your old carcass.
Tell what thou canst. If I stay here longer I shall be 1740hanged too, for being in thy company. [To both] Therefore, as I found 1741you I leave you –
[Aside to Bellafront] Kneel, and get money of him.
A knave and a quean, a thief and a strumpet, a 1744couple of beggars, a brace of baggages.
[Aside to Bellafront] Hang upon him. [Aloud] Ay, ay, sir, fare you well. We are so. [Aside to Bellafront] 1746Follow close. [Aloud] We are beggars – [Aside] in satin. [Aside to Bellafront] To him!
[To Orlando, hanging upon him]
4.1.73.1Is this your comfort, when so many years
1749Orlando
Freeze still, starve still!
Yes, so I shall. I must. I must and will.
1761Orlando
Lowest ebb? What ebb?
So poor that, though to tell it be my shame,
Itʼs not seen by your cheeks.
[Aside] I think she has read an homily to tickle to the old
1767rogue.
Want bread? Thereʼs satin; bake that.
ʼSblood, make pasties of my clothes?
A fair new cloak, stew that; an excellent gilt 1771rapier –
Will you eat that, sir?
I could feast ten good fellows with those hangers.
The pox, you shall!
[To Bellafront] I shall not, till thou begst, think thou art poor;
4.1.101.1Exit.
This is your father, your damned – confusion 1782light upon all the generation of you! He can come bragging 1783hither with four white herrings atʼs tail in blue 1784coats without roes in their bellies, but I may starve ere he 1785give me so much as a cob.
What tell you me of this? Alas!
Go, trot after your dad. Do you capitulate; Iʼll 1788pawn not for you, Iʼll not steal to be hanged for such an 1789hypocritical, close, common harlot. Away, you dog! 1790Brave, iʼfaith! Udʼs foot, give me some meat.
Yes, sir.
4.1.105.1Exit.
Goodman Slave, my man, too, is galloped to the 1793devil oʼthe tother side. Pacheco, Iʼll ‘checoʼ you. – Is this your 1794dadʼs day? England, they say, is the only hell for horses, and 1795only paradise for women. Pray, get you to that paradise, 1796because youʼre called an Honest Whore. There, they live none 1797but honest whores – with a pox. Marry, here in our city, all 1798your sex are but foot-cloth nags; the master no sooner lights 1799but the man leaps into the saddle.
Will you sit down, I pray, sir?
[Sits down on a stool and eats]
4.1.108.1I could tear, by thʼLord, his flesh, and eat his 1803midriff in salt, as I eat this. [To her] Must I choke? – My 1804father Frescobaldo! I shall make a pitiful hog-louse of you, 1805Orlando, if you fall once into my fingers. – Hereʼs the 1806savourest meat; I haʼ got a stomach with chafing. What rogue 1807should tell him of those two pedlars? A plague choke him, 1808and gnaw him to the bare bones! Come, fill.
4.1.108.2[She fills up his glass.]
Thou sweatst with very anger. Good sweet, vex not; 1810ʼLas, ʼtis no fault of mine.
Where didst buy this mutton? I never felt better 1812ribs.
A neighbour sent it me.
Ha, neighbour? Faugh! My mouth stinks. You whore, 1816do you beg victuals for me? Is this satin doublet to be 1817bombasted with broken meat?
4.1.112.1[He] takes up the stool.
What will you do, sir?
Beat out the brains of a beggarly –
Beat out an assʼs head of your own. – Away, mistress!
4.1.115.1Exit Bellafront.
4.1.1161821Zounds, do but touch one hair of her, and Iʼll so quilt 1822your cap with old iron that your coxcomb shall ache the 1823worse these seven years forʼt. Does she look like a roasted 1824rabbit, that you must have the head for the brains?
Ha, ha! Go out of my doors, you rogue. Away, 1826four marks; trudge.
Four marks? No, sir! My twenty pound that you haʼ 1828made fly high, and I am gone.
Must I be fed with chippings? Youʼre best get a 1830clapdish, and say youʼre proctor to some spital-house. – Where 1831hast thou been, Pacheco? Come hither, my little 1832turkey-cock.
I cannot abide, sir, to see a woman wronged, not I.
Sirrah, here was my father-in-law today.
Pish, then youʼre full of crowns.
Hang him! He would haʼ thrust crowns upon me to 1837have fallen in again, but I scorn cast clothes, or any manʼs 1838gold.
[Aside] But mine. [Aloud] How did he brook that, sir?
O, swore like a dozen of drunken tinkers. At last, 1841growing foul in words, he and four of his men drew 1842upon me, sir.
In your house? Would I had been by.
I made no more ado, but fell to my old lock, and 1845so thrashed my blue-coats, and old crab-tree-face my 1846father-in-law; and then walked like a lion in my grate.
O noble master!
Sirrah, he could tell me of the robbing the two 1849pedlars, and that warrants are out for us both.
Good sir, I like not those crackers.
Crackhalter, wuʼt set thy foot to mine?
How, sir? At drinking?
Weʼll pull that old crow my father, rob thy 1854master. I know the house, thou the servants. The purchase is 1855rich; the plot to get it easy; the dog will not part from a 1856bone.
Pluckʼt out of his throat, then. Iʼll snarl for one, if 1858this [Indicating his sword] can bite.
Say no more, say no more, old cole. Meet me anon at 1860the sign of the Shipwreck.
Yes, sir.
And dost hear, man? The Shipwreck.
4.1.137.1Exit.
Thouʼrt at the shipwreck now, and like a swimmer
4.1.145.1Exit.
It is my fate to be bewitchèd by those eyes.
Fate? Your folly.
Your hand; Iʼll offer you fair play. When first
1883Bellafront
You did.
1884Hippolito
Iʼll try
1891Bellafront
If you can,
1893Hippolito
The alarmʼs struck up; Iʼm your man.
A woman gives defiance.
1895Hippolito
Sit.
1896Bellafront
Begin.
You men that are to fight in the same war
1902Bellafront
No doubt youʼre heard. Proceed.
To be a harlot, that you stand upon,
So should a husband be dishonourèd.
Dishonoured? Not a whit. To fall to one,
1938Bellafront
Faith, should you take
1941Hippolito
Say, have I won?
1943Bellafront
The battleʼs but half done.
If you can win the day, 1947the gloryʼs yours.
To prove a woman should not be a whore,
You should not feed so, but with me alone.
If I drink poison by stealth, isʼt not all one?
If all the threads of harlotsʼ lives are spun
1995Bellafront
If all the threads
It is a common rule, and ʼtis most true,
Why dote you on that which you did once detest?
I!
2045Bellafront
You? Nay, then, as cowards do in fight,
4.1.307.1Exit.
Fly to earthʼs fixèd centre, to the caves
4.1.311.1Exit.
2050.1[4.2]
4.2.0.12051Enter the Duke, Lodovico, and Orlando [as Pacheco]; after them Infelice, 2052Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, [and] Fontinell.
I beseech your Grace, though your eye be so piercing as 2054under a poor blue coat to cull out an honest father from 2055an old servingman, yet, good my lord, discover not the plot 2056to any but only this gentleman that is now to be an 2057actor in our ensuing comedy.
Thou hast thy wish, Orlando. Pass unknown;
To attach him upon felony for two pedlars, isʼt not so?
Right, my noble knight. Those pedlars were two 2063knaves of mine; he fleeced the men before, and now he 2064purposes to flay the master. He will rob me; his teeth water to 2065be nibbling at my gold. But this shall hang him by thʼgills, till 2066I pull him on shore.
Away; ply you the business.
Thanks to your Grace. But, my good lord, for my 2069daughter –
You know what I have said.
And remember what I have sworn. Sheʼs more 2072honest, on my soul, than one of the Turkʼs wenches watched 2073by a hundred eunuchs.
So she had need, for the Turks make them whores.
Heʼs a Turk that makes any woman a whore; heʼs 2076no true Christian, Iʼm sure. I commit your Grace.
Infelice?
Here, sir.
4.2.14.1[The Duke and Infelice step aside.]
Signor Frescobaldo –
Frisking again? Pacheco!
Uds-so, Pacheco! Weʼll have some sport with this 2082warrant; ʼtis to apprehend all suspected persons in the 2083house. Besides, thereʼs one Bots, a pander, and one Madam 2084Horseleech, a bawd, that have abused my friend; those two 2085conies will we ferret into the purse-net.
Let me alone for dabbing them oʼthʼ neck. Come, 2087come.
Do ye hear, gallants? Meet me anon at Mattheoʼs.
Enough.
4.2.20.1Exeunt Lodovido and Orlando.
[Speaking aside to Infelice]
4.2.21.1Thʼold fellow sings that note thou didst before,
ʼTis a good, honest servant, that old man.
I doubt no less.
2097Infelice
And it may be my husband,
It may be so, too, for to turn a harlot
2113Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, and Fontinell
Yes, my lord.
All the city thinks heʼs a whoremonger.
Yet I warrant heʼll swear no man marks him.
ʼTis like so, for when a man goes a-wenching is as if 2117he had a strong stinking breath; everyone smells him out, 2118yet he feels it not, though it be ranker than the sweat of 2119sixteen bearwarders.
I doubt, then, you have all those stinking breaths;
Troth, my lord, I think we are all as you haʼ been in 2123your youth when you went a-maying; we all love to hear 2124the cuckoo sing upon other menʼs trees.
Itʼs well yet you confess.
[To Infelice] But, girl, thy bed
4.2.51ʼTis strange!
2135Carolo
I haʼ noted
Heʼs no more like unto Hippolito
4.2.65[To Astolfo] Whatʼs the drabʼs name?
2142Astolfo
In troth, my lord, I know not;
2144Duke
O, Bellafront!
A drench thatʼs able to kill a horse cannot kill this 2147disease of smock-smelling, my lord, if it have once eaten 2148deep.
Iʼll try all physic, and this medʼcine first:
No, my lord, and light wenches are no idle freight. 2156But whatʼs your Graceʼs reach in this?
This, Carolo: if she whom my son dotes on
But say she be not?
2161Duke
Yet on harlotsʼ heads
Attach all the light heels iʼthʼ city and clap ʼem up? 2167Why, my lord, you dive into a well unsearchable. All the 2168whores within the walls, and without the walls? I would not 2169be he should meddle with them for ten such dukedoms; 2170the army that you speak on is able to fill all the prisons 2171within this city, and to leave not a drinking-room in any 2172tavern besides.
They only shall be caught that are of note;
4.2.89Come, girl.
4.2.89.1[Exeunt Duke and Infelice.]
Arraign the poor whore!
Iʼll not miss that sessions.
Nor I.
Nor I, 2181though I hold up my hand there myself.
4.2.93.1Exeunt.
2181.1[4.3]
Let who will come, my noble chevalier; I can but 2184play the kind host and bid ʼem welcome.
Weʼll trouble your house, Mattheo, but as Dutchmen 2186do in taverns: drink, be merry, and be gone.
[Aside] Indeed, if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to 2188drinking, you must be gone.
The worst is, my wife is not at home. But weʼll fly 2190high, my generous knight, for all that. Thereʼs no music 2191when a woman is in the consort.
[Aside] No, for sheʼs like a pair of virginals,
See, the covey is sprung.
Save you, gallants.
Happily encountered, sweet bloods.
Gentlemen, you all know Signor Candido, the 2199linen-draper, he thatʼs more patient than a brown baker upon 2200the day when he heats his oven and has forty scolds 2201about him.
Yes, we know him all. What of him?
Would it not be a good fit of mirth to make a piece 2204of English cloth of him, and to stretch him on the tenters 2205till the threads of his own natural humour crack, by 2206making him drink healths, tobacco, dance, sing bawdy songs, 2207or to run any bias according as we think good to cast him?
ʼTwere a morris dance worth the seeing.
But the old fox is so crafy we shall hardly hunt him out 2210of his den.
To that train I haʼ given fire already, and the hook 2212to draw him hither is to see certain pieces of lawn 2213which I told him I have to sell, and indeed have such. – Fetch 2214them down, Pacheco.
Yes, sir; Iʼm your water-spaniel, and will fetch 2216anything. [Aside] But Iʼll fetch one dish of meat anon shall turn your 2217stomach, and thatʼs a constable.
4.3.16.1Exit.
How now, how now?
What galley-foist is this?
Peace! Two dishes of stewed prunes: a bawd and a 2222pander. – My worthy Lieutenant Bots! Why, now I see thouʼrt 2223a man of thy word. Welcome. – Welcome, Mistress Horseleech. – 2224Pray, gentlemen, salute this reverend matron.
4.3.19.1[They kiss her.]
Thanks to all your worships.
I bade a drawer send in wine, too. Did none come 2227along with thee, grannam, but the lieutenant?
None came along with me but Bots, if it like you 2229worship.
Who the pox should come along with you but Bots?
O, brave! March fair!
Are you come? Thatʼs well.
Hereʼs ordnance able to sack a city.
Come, repeat, read this inventory.
Imprimis, a pottle of Greek wine, a pottle of 2237Peter-sameene, a pottle of Charneco, and a pottle of 2238Leatica.
Youʼre paid?
Yes, sir.
4.3.30.1Exeunt Vintners.
So shall some of us be anon, I fear.
Hereʼs a hot day towards. But zounds, this is the 2243life out of which a soldier sucks sweetness. When this 2244artillery goes off roundly, some must drop to the ground [Pointing at each of the pottles in turn]: 2245cannon, demi-cannon, saker, and basilisk.
Give fire, lieutenant.
[Pouring out wine] So, so. Must I venture first upon the breach? To you 2248all, gallants; Bots sets upon you all.
4.3.34.1[He drinks.]
Itʼs hard, Bots, if we pepper not you as well as 2250you pepper us.
4.3.35.1[They drink.]
My noble linen-draper! – Some wine! – Welcome, 2253old lad.
Youʼre welcome, signor.
[To him] These lawns, sir?
Presently. My man is gone for them. [Indicating the wine] We haʼ rigged 2257a fleet, you see here, to sail about the world.
A dangerous voyage, sailing in such ships.
Thereʼs no casting overboard yet.
[To Horseleech] Because you are an old lady, I will have you be 2261acquainted with this grave citizen. Pray bestow your lips 2262upon him, and bid him welcome.
Any citizen shall be most welcome to me. [She kisses Candido and addresses him.] I 2264have used to buy ware at your shop.
It may be so, good madam.
Your prentices know my dealings well. I trust 2267your good wife be in good case. If it please you, bear her a 2268token from my lips, by word of mouth.
4.3.45.1[She kisses him.]
I pray, no more! Forsooth, ʼtis very well;
[Talking apart to Lodovico] Sir, a word –
4.3.49Is she a lady?
A woman of good house, and an ancient. Sheʼs a 2273bawd.
A bawd?
[To Mattheo] Sir, Iʼll steal hence, and see your 2275lawns
4.3.52Some other time.
Steal out of such company? Pacheco, my man, is 2277but gone for ʼem. – Lieutenant Bots, drink to this worthy old 2278fellow, and teach him to fly high.
Swagger! And make him doʼt on his knees.
How, Bots? Now bless me, what do I with Bots?
4.3.55.1[Bots pours out wine.]
Greybeard, goatʼs pizzle, ʼtis a health. Heave this [Indicating the wine] 2283in your guts, or this [Showing a dagger] there. I will sing a bawdy song, sir, 2284because your verjuice face is melancholy, to make liquor go 2285down glib. Will you fall on your marrowbones, and pledge 2286this health? ʼTis to my mistress, a whore.
Hereʼs ratsbane upon ratsbane, Master Bots.
4.3.61And shoot not in such pot-guns.
2290Bots
Cap, Iʼll teach you.
To drink healths is to drink sickness. – 2292Gentlemen,
4.3.63Pray rescue me.
Zounds, who dare?
4.3.64.1[No one moves.]
We shall haʼ stabbing then?
I haʼ reckonings to cast up, good Master Bots.
[Giving him wine] This will make you cast ʼem up better.
[To Candido] Why does your hand shake so?
The palsy, signors, danceth in my blood.
Pipe, with a pox, sir, then! Or Iʼll make your blood 2300dance –
4.3.70.1[Touching his dagger]
Hold, hold, good Master Bots, I drink.
4.3.71.1[He kneels.]
2302All Gentlemen
To whom?
To the old countess there.
4.3.72.1[He drinks.]
To me, old boy? This is he that never drunk wine!
4.3.74.1[Candido slowly finishes the wine.]
[Aside] With much ado the poison is got down,
4.3.77.1[He rises.]
Hast been at gallows?
Yes, sir, for I make account to suffer today.
[To Candido] Look, signor, hereʼs the commodity.
Your price?
[Using his fingers] Thus.
No, too dear. [Using his fingers] Thus.
No. O, fie, you must fly higher! Yet take ʼem home. 2317Trifles shall not make us quarrel. Weʼll agree; you shall have 2318them, and a pennyworth. Iʼll fetch money at your shop.
Be it so, good signor; send me going.
Going? [To Orlando] A deep bowl of wine for Signor Candido.
He would be going.
Iʼll rather stay than go so. Stop your bowl.
How now?
Isʼt Shrove Tuesday, that these ghosts walk?
Whatʼs your business, sir?
From the Duke. You are the man we look for, 2328signor. I have warrant here from the Duke to apprehend 2329you upon felony for robbing two pedlars. I charge you 2330iʼthʼ Dukeʼs name, go quickly.
Is the wind turned? Well, this is that old wolf 2332my father-in-law. [To Orlando] Seek out your mistress, sirrah.
Yes, sir. [Aside] As shafts by piecing are made strong,
4.3.95.1Exit.
In troth, we are sorry.
Brave men must be crossed. Pish, itʼs but Fortuneʼs 2337dice roving against me. [To the Constable] Come, sir, pray use me like a 2338gentleman; let me not be carried through the streets like a 2339pageant.
If these gentlemen please, you shall go along 2341with them.
Beʼt so; come.
[To Bots] What are you, sir?
I, sir? Sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the 2345state has occasion to cast up her accounts. Iʼm a soldier.
Your name is Bots, isʼt not?
Bots is my name; Bots is known to this company.
I know you are, sir. [Indicating Horseleech] Whatʼs she?
A gentlewoman, my mother.
[To Billmen] Take ʼem both along.
Me, sirrr?
Ay, sirrr.
If he swagger, raise the street.
Gentlemen, Gentlemen, whither will you drag us?
To the garden house. Bots, are we even with you?
To Bridewell with ʼem!
You will answer this.
Better than a challenge. I have warrant for my 2359work, sir.
4.3.114.1Exeunt [Billmen with Bots and Mistress Horseleech].
Weʼll go before.
Pray do. –
4.3.116.1Exeunt [all but Constable and Candido].
4.3.119In such a house?
2364Candido
Why, sir? What house, I pray?
Lewd and defamed.
2366Candido
Isʼt so? Thanks, sir; Iʼm gone.
What have you there?
Lawns which I bought, sir, of the gentleman
2370Constable
And I have warrant here
Indeed?
2373Constable
So heʼs the thief, you the receiver.
Me, sir? For what?
2376Constable
These goods are found upon you,
2378Candido
Must I so?
Constable
Most certain.
Iʼll send for bail.
2380Constable
I dare not. Yet, because
4.3.131Be made a pointing-stock, but without guard
2383Candido
To Bridewell too?
No remedy.
2385Candido
Yes, patience. Being not mad,
4.3.135To Bridewell loving no whores.
2388Constable
You will buy lawn!
4.3.135.1Exeunt.
2388.1[5.1]
5.1.0.12389Enter at one door Hippolito; at another Lodovico, Astolfo, 2390Carolo, Beraldo, [and] Fontinell.
[To his companions] Yonderʼs the lord Hippolito. By any means leave 2392him and me together. Now will I turn him to a madman.
Save you, my lord.
5.1.2.1Exeunt [all but Lodovico and Hippolito].
I haʼ strange news to tell you.
What are they?
Your mareʼs iʼthʼ pound.
Howʼs this?
Your nightingale is in a lime-bush.
Ha?
Your puritanical Honest Whore sits in a blue gown.
Blue gown?
Sheʼll chalk out your way to her now; she beats 2403chalk.
Where? Who dares –
Do you know the brick house of castigation, by 2406the river side that runs by Milan – the school where 2407they pronounce no letter well but O?
I know it not.
Any man that has borne office of constable, or any 2410woman that has fallen from a horse-load to a cart-load, or 2411like an old hen that has had none but rotten eggs in her 2412nest, can direct you to her.
5.1.18For there she beats chalk or grinds in the mill,
5.1.20Ah, little monkey!
What rogue durst serve that warrant, knowing I 2417loved her?
Some worshipful rascal, I lay my life.
Iʼll beat the lodgings down about their ears
So you may bring an old house over her head.
Iʼll to her –
5.1.27.1Exit.
O me! What monsters are men made by whores? 2425If this false fire do kindle him, thereʼs one faggot 2426more to the bonfire. Now to my Bridewell birds. 2427What song will they sing?
5.1.28.1Exit.
2427.1[5.2]
5.2.0.12428Enter Duke, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell, three 2429or four Masters of Bridewell, [and] Infelice.
[To the Masters] Your Bridewell? That the name? For beauty, strength,
Hither from foreign courts have princes come,
2447Duke
ʼTis Fortuneʼs sport.
24521 Master
War and peace
An excellent team of horse!
Nor is it seen
Thus wholsomʼst laws spring from the worst 2488abuse.
Let mercy touch your heart-strings, gracious lord,
His name?
2494Bellafront
Mattheo.
2495Duke
For a robbery?
5.2.59Where is he?
2496Bellafront
In this house.
2497Duke
Fetch you him hither.
5.2.58.1Exit Bellafront and one of the Masters of Bridewell.
2498[To Orlando] Is this the party?
This is the hen, my lord, that the cock with the 2500lordly comb, your son-in-law, would crow over and 2501tread.
Are your two servants ready?
My two pedlars are packed together, my good lord.
ʼTis well. This day in judgement shall be spent;
Let me be gone, my lord, or stand unseen;
Weʼll place you, lady, in some private room.
Pray do so.
5.2.69.1Exit [with a Master].
[Aside] Thus nice dames swear it is unfit their eyes
[To the Duke] Your son the lord Hippolito is entered.
Tell him we wish his presence. – A word, Sforza:
These – I told him his lark whom he loved was 2520a Bridewell bird; heʼs mad that this cage should hold her, 2521and is come to let her out.
ʼTis excellent. Away, go call him hither.
5.2.78.1Exit Lodovico.
5.2.78.22523Enter one of the Masters of the house; Bellafront after him 2524with Mattheo; after him the Constable. Enter at another 2525door Lodovico and Hippolito. Orlando steps 2526forth and brings in two [Servants disguised as] Pedlars.
[To Hippolito] You are to us a stranger, worthy lord;
2529Hippolito
It is most fit
Atomies neither shape nor honour bear;
5.2.85Your accusation.
Iʼll hear none; I fly high in that. Rather than kites 2535shall seize upon me and pick out mine eyes to my face, Iʼll 2536strike my talons through mine own heart first, and spit my 2537blood in theirs. I am here for shriving those two fools of 2538their sinful pack. When those jackdaws have cawed 2539over me, then must I cry guilty or not guilty. The law has 2540work enough already, and therefore Iʼll put no work of 2541mine into his hands. The hangman shall haʼt first. I did pluck 2542those ganders, did rob them.
ʼTis well done to confess.
Confess and be hanged, and then I fly high, isʼt not 2545so? That for that! A gallows is the worst rub that a good 2546bowler can meet with. I stumbled against such a post. Else 2547this night I had played the part of a true son in these days, 2548undone my father-in-law. With him would I haʼ run at 2549leap-frog, and come over his gold, though I had broke his neck 2550forʼt; but the poor salmon-trout is now in the net.
And now the law must teach you to fly high.
Right, my lord, and then may you fly low. No more 2553words – a mouse; mum; you are stopped.
Be good to my poor husband, dear my lords.
Ass!
5.2.94When no man here is good to one another?
Did any hand work in this theft but yours?
O yes, my lord, yes. The hangman has never 2559one son at a birth; his children always come by couples. 2560Though I cannot give the old dog my father a bone to gnaw, 2561the daughter shall be sure of a choke-pear. Yes, my 2562lord, there was one more that fiddled my fine pedlars, and 2563that was my wife.
Alas! I?
[Aside] O everlasting, supernatural, superlative villain!
Your wife, Mattheo?
2567Hippolito
Sure it cannot be!
O sir, you love no quarters of mutton that hang 2569up; you love none but whole mutton. She set the roberry, I 2570performed it. She spurred me on, I galloped away.
My lords –
My lords – fellow, give me speech – if my poor life
[Aside] A good child! Hang thine own father!
[To Orlando] Old fellow, was thy hand in too?
My hand was in the pie, my lord, I confess it. My 2584mistress, I see, will bring me to the gallows, and so leave me. 2585But Iʼll not leave her so. I had rather hang in a womanʼs 2586company than in a manʼs; because, if we should go to hell together, 2587I should scarce be letten in, for all the devils are afraid to 2588have any women come amongst them. As I am true thief, 2589she neither consented to this felony nor knew of it.
[To Mattheo] What fury prompts thee on to kill thy wife?
Itʼs my humour, sir; ʼtis a foolish bagpipe that I 2592make myself merry with. Why should I eat hempseed 2593at the hangmanʼs thirteenpence-halfpenny ordinary, 2594and have this whore laugh at me as I swing, as I totter?
Is she a whore?
A sixpenny mutton pasty, for any to cut up.
[Aside] Ah, toad, toad, toad!
A barberʼs cittern for every servingman to play 2599upon. That lord your son knows it.
I, sir? Am I her bawd, then?
No, sir, but sheʼs your whore, then.
[Aside] Yea, spider, dost catch at great flies?
My whore?
I cannot talk, sir, and tell of your rems and your 2605rees and your whirligigs and devices. [To the Duke] But, my lord, I 2606found ʼem like sparrows in one nest, billing together and 2607bulling of me. I took ʼem in bed, was ready to kill him was 2608up to stab her –
Close thy rank jaws!
[To the Duke] Pardon me, I am vexed.
2616Infelice
ʼTis my cue
Against that black-mouthed devil, against letters 2624and gold,
What shall I say?
Say thou art not a whore, and thatʼs more than 2632fifteen women amongst five hundred dare swear 2633without lying. This shalt thou say – no, let me sayʼt for thee: thy 2634husbandʼs a knave, this lordʼs an honest man, thou art no 2635punk, this ladyʼs a right lady. Pacheco is a thief as his 2636master is, but old Orlando is as true a man as thy father is. [To Mattheo] 2637I haʼ seen you fly high, sir, and I haʼ seen you fly low, sir; and to 2638keep you from the gallows, sir, a blue coat have I worn, 2639and a thief did I turn. Mine own men are the pedlars. My 2640twenty pound did fly high, sir. Your wifeʼs gown did fly 2641low, sir. Whither fly you now, sir? You haʼ scaped the 2642gallows; to the devil you fly next, sir. – Am I right, my liege?
[To Mattheo] Your father has the true physician played.
And I am now his patient.
2645Hippolito
And be so still;
The linen-draper, Signor Candido,
2651Infelice
Alas, good Candido!
Fetch him.
5.2.151.1Exit Constable.
And when these payments up are cast,
In Bridewell, Candido?
2656Candido
Yes, my good lord.
What make you here?
2658Candido
My lord, what make you here?
Iʼm here to save right, and to drive wrong hence.
And I to bear wrong here with patience.
You haʼ bought stolʼn goods.
2662Candido
So they do say, my lord;
Your creditʼs cracked, being here.
2667Candido
No more than gold
2672Duke
Well, stand by;
5.2.166.12674Enter Constable; after him Bots; after them two Beadles, one 2675with hemp, the other with a beetle.
Stay, stay; [Indicating Bots] whatʼs he? A prisoner?
2677Constable
Yes, my lord.
He seems a soldier.
I am what I seem, sir, one of Fortuneʼs bastards, a 2680soldier and a gentleman; and am brought in here with 2681Master Constableʼs band of billmen because they face me 2682down that I live, like those that keep bowling-alleys, 2683by the sins of the people, in being a squire of the body.
O, an apple-squire!
Yes, sir, that degree of scurvy squires; and that I am 2686maintained by the best part that is commonly in a woman, 2687by the worst players of those parts. But I am known to all 2688this company.
[To the Duke] My lord, ʼtis true. We all know him; ʼtis Lieutenant 2690Bots.
Bots? – And where haʼ you served, Bots?
In most of your hottest services in the Low 2693Countries. At the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted 2694uponʼt, but ʼtis now sound. In Cleveland I missed but little, 2695having the bridge of my nose broken down with two 2696great stones as I was scaling a fort. I haʼ been tried, sir, 2697too, in Gelderland, and scaped hardly there from being blown 2698up at a breach: I was fired, and lay iʼthʼ surgeonʼs hands 2699forʼt till the fall of the leaf following.
All this may be, and yet you no soldier.
No soldier, sir? I hope these are services that your 2702proudest commanders do venture upon and never come 2703off sometimes.
Well, sir, because you say you are a soldier,
[To the Gentlemen] Make room there;
I wish to be tried at no other weapon.
Why is he furnished with those implements?
The pander is more dangerous to a state
2718Duke
This does savour
2722Infelice
Methinks this place
27241 Master
Some it turns good,
Let them be marshalled in.
5.2.202.1[Exeunt Masters, Constable, and Beadles.]
Be covered all,
5.2.203.1[The Gentlemen and Bots cover their faces.]
[Aside to Bots] Will not you be smelt out, Bots?
[Aside to Carolo] No, your bravest whores have the worst noses.
5.2.205.12736Enter two of the Masters; a Constable after them; then Dorothea 2737Target, brave; after her two Beadles, thʼone with a 2738wheel, the other with a blue gown.
[To Dorothea] Are not you a bride, forsooth?
Say ye?
He would know if these be not your bridemen.
Uuh! Yes, sir! And look ye – do you see the 2743bride-laces that I give at my wedding will serve to tie rosemary 2744to both your coffins when you come from hanging, scab?
Fie, punk! Fie, fie, fie!
Out, you stale, stinking head of garlic! Faugh, at my 2747heels!
5.2.211.1[She beats him.]
My headʼs cloven.
O, let the gentlewoman alone; sheʼs going to shrift.
Nay, to do penance.
Ay, ay, go, punk; go to the cross and be whipped.
Marry mew! Marry-muff! Marry hang you, Goodman 2753Dog! Whipped? Do ye take me for a base spital whore? – In 2754troth, gentlemen, you wear the clothes of gentlemen, but 2755you carry not the minds of gentlemen, to abuse a 2756gentlewoman of my fashion.
Fashion? Pox oʼyour fashions! Art not a whore?
Goodman Slave!
[To the Gentlemen] O fie, abuse her not. Let us two talk.
Iʼm not ashamed of my name, sir. My name is Mistress 2762Doll Target, a Western gentlewoman.
Her target against any pike in Milan.
Why is this wheel borne after her?
She must spin.
A coarse thread it shall be, as all threads are.
If you spin, then youʼll earn money here, too.
I had rather get half a crown abroad than ten 2769crowns here.
Abroad? I think so.
Dost thou not weep now thou art here?
Say ye? Weep? Yes, forsooth, as you did when 2773you lost your maidenhead. Do you not hear how I weep?
Farewell, Doll.
Farewell, Dog.
5.2.232.1Exit [with 2 Master and Beadles].
Past shame, past penitence.
[To 1 Master] Why is that blue gown?
Being stripped out of her wanton loose attire,
Are all the rest like this?
27821 Master
No, my good lord.
Variety is good; letʼs see the rest.
5.2.240.1Exit [1] Master [and the Constable].
You Grace sees Iʼm sound yet, and no bullets hit me.
Come off so, and ʼtis well.
Hereʼs the second mess.
5.2.243.12789Enter the two Masters; after them the Constable; after him 2790Penelope Whorehound like a citizenʼs wife; after her two 2791Beadles, one with a blue gown, another with 2792chalk and a mallet.
I haʼ worn many a costly gown, but I was never 2794thus guarded with blue coats and beadles and constables 2795and –
5.2.244.1[She weeps.]
Alas, fair mistress, spoil not thus your eyes.
O sweet sir, I fear the spoiling of other places 2798about me that are dearer than my eyes. If you be gentlemen, 2799if you be men, or ever came of a woman, pity my case! [To Orlando, clinging to him] Stand 2800to me, stick to me, good sir; you are an old man.
Hang not on me, I prithee; old trees bear no such 2802fruit.
Will you bail me, gentlemen?
Bail thee? Art in for debt?
No; God is my judge, sir, I am in for no debts. I paid 2806my tailor for this gown the last five shillings a week 2807that was behind, yesterday.
What is your name, I pray?
Penelope Whorehound. I come of the Whorehounds. [To Bots] 2810How does Lieutenant Bots?
Aha, Bots!
A very honest woman, as Iʼm a soldier. [Aside to her] A pox bots ye!
I was never in this pickle before – and yet if I go 2814amongst citizensʼ wives they jeer at me; if I go among 2815the loose-bodied gowns, they cry a pox on me because I 2816go civilly attired, and swear their trade was a good 2817trade till such as I am took it out of their hands. Good 2818Lieutenant Bots, speak to these captains to bail me.
Begging for bail still? You are a trim gossip. [To Beadles] Go, 2820give her the blue gown, set her to her chare. – Work, 2821huswife, for your bread. Away!
Out, you dog! – A pox on you all! – Women are born to 2823curse thee! But I shall live to see twenty such flat-caps 2824shaking dice for a pennyworth of pippins. Out, you blue-eyed 2825rogue!
5.2.257.1Exit [with Beadles].
Ha, ha, ha!
Even now she wept and prayed; now does she curse?
Seeing me. If still she had stayed, this had been 2829worse.
Was she ever here before?
28311 Master
Five times at least;
2834All Gentlemen
Bots, you know her!
Is there any gentleman here that knows not a 2836whore? And is he a hair the worse for that?
[To 1 Master] Is she a city dame, sheʼs so attired?
No, my good lord, thatʼs only but the veil
5.2.274Now shall you see a monster both in shape
Letʼs see her.
28501 Master
Then behold a swaggering whore.
5.2.278.1Exit [with 2 Master and Constable].
Keep your ground, Bots.
I do but traverse to spy advantage how to arm 2853myself.
5.2.280.12854Enter the two Masters first; after them the Constable; after them a 2855Beadle beating a basin; then Catherina Bountinall with 2856Mistress Horseleech; after them another Beadle, with a 2857blue head guarded with yellow.
[To the Constable] Sirrah, when I cry ‘Hold your hands!ʼ, hold, you 2859rogue-catcher, hold! – Bawd, are the French chilblains in your 2860heels, that you can come no faster? Are not you, bawd, a 2861whoreʼs ancient, and must not I follow my colours?
O Mistress Catherine, you do me wrong to accuse 2863me here as you do, before the right worshipful. I am 2864known for a motherly, honest woman, and no bawd.
Marry, faugh! Honest? Burnt at fourteen, seven times 2866whipped, six times carted, nine times ducked, searched by 2867some hundred and fifty constables, and yet you are honest? 2868‘Honestʼ Mistress Horseleech, is this world a world to keep 2869bawds and whores honest? How many times hast thou 2870given gentlemen a quart of wine in a gallon pot? How 2871many twelvepenny fees, nay two-shillings fees, nay, when 2872any ambassadors haʼ been here, how many half-crown 2873fees hast thou taken? How many carriers hast thou bribed 2874for country wenches? How often have I rinsed your lungs 2875in aqua-vitae? And yet you are honest?
[To Catherina] And what were you the whilst?
Marry hang you, Master Slave! Who made you an 2878examiner?
Well said! Belike this devil spares no man.
[To Bots] What art thou, prithee?
Nay, what art thou, prithee?
A whore. Art thou a thief?
A thief? No. I defy the calling; I am a soldier, 2884have borne arms in the field, been in many a hot 2885skirmish, yet come off sound.
Sound with a pox to ye, ye abominable rogue! 2887You a soldier? You in skirmishes? Where? Amongst 2888pottle-pots in a bawdy house? [To Horseleech] Look, look here, you Madam 2889Worm-eaten, do not you know him?
Lieutenant Bots! Where have ye been this many a 2891day?
[Aside to Horseleech] Old bawd, do not discredit me, seem not to 2893know me.
Not to know ye, Master Bots? As long as I have 2895breath, I cannot forget thy sweet face.
Why, do you know him? He says he is a 2897soldier.
He a soldier? A pander, a dog that will lick up 2899sixpence. Do ye hear, you Master Swineʼs-snout, how long isʼt 2900since you held the door for me, and cried ‘Toʼt again, 2901nobody comesʼ, ye rogue, you?
Ha, ha, ha! Youʼre smelt out again, Bots.
Pox ruin her nose forʼt! An I be not revenged for 2904this – umm, ye bitch!
Dʼye hear ye, madam? Why does your ladyship 2906swagger thus? Youʼre very brave, methinks.
Not at your cost, Master Codʼs-head;
Yes, I am, 2910because good clothes upon a whoreʼs back 2911is like fair painting upon a rotten wall.
Marry-muff, Master Whoremaster, you come upon 2913me with sentences.
By this light, hʼas small sense forʼt.
O fie, fie, do not vex her. 2916And yet methinks a creature of more scurvy conditions 2917should not know what a good petticoat were.
Marry come out! 2919Youʼre so busy about my petticoat youʼll creep up to my 2920placket, an ye could but attain the honour. But an the 2921outsides offend your rogueships, look oʼthe lining – ʼtis 2922silk.
Isʼt silk ʼtis lined with, then?
Silk? Ay, silk, Master Slave. You would be glad to 2925wipe your nose with the skirt onʼt. This ʼtis to come 2926among a company of codʼs-heads that know not how to use 2927a gentlewoman.
[To 1 Master] Tell her the Duke is here.
Be modest, Kate, the Duke is here.
If the devil were here, I care not. – Set forward, ye 2931rogues, and give attendance according to your places. Let 2932bawds and whores be sad, for Iʼll sing an the devil were 2933a-dying.
5.2.311.1Exeunt [Catherina, Horseleech and Beadles, one of whom follows the women while the other goes before, beating his basin.]
[To 1 Master] Why before her does the basin ring?
It is an emblem of their revelling.
No, shut up shop. Weʼll now break up the fair.
2948All Gentlemen
Defend yourself, Bots!
First, all the private sufferance that the house
2954Bots
Beseech your Grace!
Away with him, see it done.
[Exit Bots with Constable.]
Panders and whores
Marry, this, my lord: he is my son-in-law, and in 2960law will I be his father. For if law can pepper him, he shall 2961be so parboiled that he shall stink no more iʼthʼ nose of the 2962commonwealth.
Be yet more kind and merciful, good father.
Dost thou beg for him, thou precious manʼs meat, 2965thou? Has he not beaten thee, kicked thee, trod on thee, and 2966dost thou fawn on him like his spaniel? Has he not 2967pawned thee to thy petticoat, sold thee to thy smock, made 2968thee leap at a crust, yet wouldst have me save him?
O, yes, good sir. Women shall learn of me
Have ye eaten pigeons, that youʼre so kindhearted 2973to your mate? Nay, youʼre a couple of wild bears; Iʼll 2974have ye both baited at one stake. – But as for this knave [Addressing Mattheo]: the 2975gallows is thy due, and the gallows thou shalt have. Iʼll 2976have justice of the Duke; the law shall have thy life. [To Bellafront] What, 2977dost thou hold him? Let go his hand. If thou dost not 2978forsake him, a fatherʼs everlasting blessing fall upon both your 2979heads! Away, go, kiss out of my sight! Play thou the 2980whore no more, nor thou the thief again.
5.2.342My house shall be thine,
5.2.344And so shall my wine,
5.2.346And yet when I die,
5.2.348Take all. Yet, good Mattheo, mend.
Then hear, Mattheo. All your woes are stayed
5.2.360.1Exeunt.