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0.014An Humorous Dayʼs Mirth
0.01[Scene 1]
4Yet hath the morning sprinkled thrʼout the clouds
1.6Her maid, nor any waking I can see.
1.10Her key in wax and made this counterfeit —
1.12To work this rare and politic device.
1.16And sense, indeed, all for itself,
1.19Religious letters sent unto her mind,
1.23For poets Iʼll not trust, nor friends, nor any.
1.26And not to make her desperate, thus I write
1.36I hope ʼtis pretty and pathetical.
1.37.1[Puts jewels down]
1.38Lie both together till my love arise
1.40I will to bed again.
1.40.1Exit.
30.1[Scene 2]
How like thou this morning, Colinet? What, 33shall we have a fair day?
The sky hangs full of humour, and I think 35we shall have rain.
Why, rain is fair weather when the ground is dry 37and barren, especially when it rains humour, for then do 38men like hot sparrows and pigeons open all their wings 39ready to receive them.
Why, then, we may chance to have a fair day, for 41we shall spend it with so humorous acquaintance as rains 42nothing but humour all their lifetime.
True, Colinet, over which will I sit like an old king 44in an old-fashion play, having his wife, his council, his children, 45 and his fool about him, to whom he will sit and 46point very learnedly as followeth:
2.8And thou my fool —
Not meaning me, sir, I hope.
No, sir, but thus will I sit, as it were, and point out 51all my humorous companions.
You shall do marvellous well, sir.
I thank you for your good encouragement. But, 54Colinet, thou shalt see Catalian bring me hither an odd gentleman55 presently to be acquainted withal, who in his manner 56 of taking acquaintance will make us excellent sport.
Why, Lemot, I think thou sendest about of purpose 58for young gallants to be acquainted withal, to make thyself 59merry in the manner of taking acquaintance.
By heaven I do, Colinet, for there is no better sport 61than to observe the complement, for thatʼs their word, complement,62 do you mark, sir?
Yea, sir, but what humour hath this gallant in his manner64 of taking acquaintance?
2.1665Lemot Marry thus, sir: he will speak the very selfsame 66word to a syllable after him of whom he takes acquaintance,67 as if I should say, 68‘I am marvellous glad of your acquaintanceʼ, he will reply, 69‘I am marvellous glad of your acquaintanceʼ. 70‘I have heard much good of your rare parts and fine carriageʼ; 71‘I have heard much good of your rare parts and fine carriageʼ. 72So long as the complements of a gentleman last, he is your 73complete ape.
Why, this is excellent.
Nay, sirrah, hereʼs the jest of it: when he is past this 76gratulation, he will retire himself to a chimney or a wall standing 77 folding his arms thus; and go you and speak to him 78so far as the room you are in will afford you, you shall never 79 get him from that most gentlemanlike set or behaviour.
This makes his humour perfect. I would he would 81come once.
[Aside to Colinet] See where he comes. Now must I say, Lupus est in 84fabula, for these Latin ends are part of a gentleman and a 85good scholar.
Oh, good morrow Monsieur Lemot. Here is the 87gentleman you desired so much to be acquainted withal.
He is marvellous welcome. [To Blanvel] I shall be exceeding 89proud of your acquaintance.
I shall be exceeding proud of your acquaintance.
I have heard much good of your rare parts and fine 92carriages.
I have heard much good of your rare parts and 94fine carriages.
I shall be glad to be commanded by you.
I shall be glad to be commanded by you.
I pray do not you say so.
I pray do not you say so.
Well, gentlemen, this day letʼs consecrate to mirth.100 And Colinet, you know, no man better, that you are mightily 101in love with lovely Martia, daughter to old Foyes.
I confess it. Here are none but friends.
Well then, go to her this morning in Countess Morenʼs104 name, and so perhaps you may get her company, though 105the old churl be so jealous that he will suffer no man to 106come at her but the vain gull Labesha for his living sake, 107and he, as yet, she will not be acquainted withal.
Well, this Iʼll do, whatsoever come on it.
Why nothing but good will come of it, neʼer doubt 110it man.
[Aside to Lemot] He hath taken up his stand. Talk a little further 112and see an you can remove him.
[Aside] I will, Catalian. [Aloud] Now, Monsieur Blanvel, mark, I pray.
I do, sir, very well, I warrant you.
You know the old Count Labervele hath a passing 116fair young lady, that is a passing foul Puritan?
I know her very well, sir. She goes more like a 118milkmaid than a countess, for all her youth and 119beauty.
True, sir. Yet of her is the old Count so jealous 121that he will suffer no man to come at her. Yet I will find a 122means that two of us will have access to her, though before 123 his face, which shall so heat his jealous humour till he be 124stark mad. But, Colinet, go you first to lovely Martia, for ʼtis 125too soon for the old lord and his fair young lady to rise.
Adieu, Monsieur Blanvel.
Adieu, good Monsieur Colinet.
2.42.1Exit Colinet.
Monsieur Blanvel, your kindness in this will bind me 129much to you.
Monsieur Lemot, your kindness in this will bind me 131much to you.
I pray you do not say so, sir.
I pray you do not say so sir.
Willʼt please you to go in?
Willʼt please you to go in?
I will follow you.
I will follow you.
It shall be yours.
It shall be yours.
Kind Monsieur Blanvel.
Kind Monsieur Lemot.
2.54.1Exeunt.
141.1[Scene 3]
Come on, fair daughter, fall to your work of 144mind, and make your body fit to embrace the body of this 145gentlemanʼs, ʼtis art: happy are they, say I.
I protest, sir, you speak the best that ever I heard.
I pray, sir, take acquaintance of my daughter.
I do desire you of more acquaintance.
[To Martia] Why dost not thou say ‘Yea, and I the same of youʼ?
That everybody says.
Oh, you would be singular.
Single, indeed.
‘Single, indeedʼ: thatʼs a pretty toy! 154Your betters, dame, bear double, and so shall you.
Exceeding pretty, did you mark it, forsooth?
What should I mark, forsooth?
Your bearing double, which equivocate is, and hath 158a fit allusion to a horse that bears double, for your good 159father means you shall endure your single life no longer, 160not in worse sense than bearing double, forsooth.
I cry you mercy, you know both belike.
Knowledge, forsooth, is like a horse and you, that can 163bear double. It nourisheth both bee and spider: the bee 164honeysuckle, the spider, poison. I am that bee.
I thought so by your stinging wit.
Lady, I am a bee without a sting, no way hurting 167any, but good to all, and before all, to your sweet self.
Afore God, daughter, thou art not worthy to hear 169him speake. But who comes here?
3.17.1Enter Colinet.
God save you, sir.
You are welcome, sir, for aught that I know yet.
I hope I shall be so still, sir.
What is your business, sir, and then Iʼll tell you?
Marry thus, sir, the Countess Moren entreats your 175fair daughter to bear her company this forenoon.
This forenoon, sir? Doth my lord or lady send for 177her, I pray?
My lady, I assure you.
My lady, you assure me. Very well, sir. Yet that house 180is full of gallant gentlemen, dangerous thorns to prick 181young maids, I can tell you.
There are none but honest and honourable 183gentlemen.
All is one, sir, for that. Iʼll trust my daughter with any 185man, but no man with my daughter, only yourself Monsieur 186Besha, whom I will entreat to be her guardian and to bring 187her home again.
I will wait upon her, an it please you.
No, sir, your weight upon her will not be so good. Here, 190Monsieur Besha, I deliver my daughter unto you a perfect 191maid, and so I pray you look well unto her.
Farewell, Monsieur Foyes.
I warrant Iʼll look unto her well enough. 194Mistress, will it please you to preambulate.
With all my heart.
3.32.1Exeunt.
195.1[Scene 4]
4.3Than might suffice health.
4.6That will ask time that might be better spent.
[Picks up jewels] Jewels?
4.9How should these come here?
Good morrow, lovely wife. What hast thou there?
Jewels, my lord, which here I strangely found.
Thatʼs strange indeed. What, where none comes
4.16Or else do fairies haunt this holy green,
Fairies were but in times of ignorance,
4.22For such fantastical and fruitless jewels,
4.26Bowing my body to an idle work.
4.29In the highway.
You are too curious, wife. Behold your jewels.
4.31.1Then he reads.
4.36Wonderful rare and witty, nay, divine.
4.38What is this other?
4.42I think, did ever utter such conceit
Vain poetry. I pray you burn them, sir.
You are to blame, wife. Heaven hath sent you them
4.48Why there is difference in all estates
4.49By all religion.
233Florila
There is no difference.
I prithee, wife, be of another mind
A velvet hood! O vain devilish device!
4.55Diogenes did cast away his dish
Sure, wife, I think thy keeping always close,
Sure, my lord, if I thought I should be rid
4.65Which was for procreation, I should sin,
4.68And therefore if it please you Iʼll use resort.
[Aside] Godʼs my passion, what have I done? Who would 251have thought her pureness would yield so soon to courses252 of temptations? [Aloud] Nay, hark you, wife, I am not sure that 253going abroad will cause fruitfulness in you. That, you know, 254none knows but God himself.
I know, my lord, ʼtis true, but the lawful means must 256still be used.
Yea, the lawful means indeed must still, but now I 258remember that lawful means is not abroad.
Well, well, Iʼll keep the house still.
Nay, hark you, lady, I would not have you think — 261marry, I must tell you this, if you should change the manner of 262your life, the world would think you changed religion too.
ʼTis true, I will not go.
Nay, if you have a fancy.
Yea, a fancy, but thatʼs no matter.
Indeed, fancies are not for judicial and religious women.
God save your lordship, and you, most religious lady.
Sir, you may say God save us well indeed
270That thus are thrust upon in private walks.
A slender thrust, sir, where I touched you not.
Well, sir, what is your business?
Why, sir, I have a message to my lady from Monsieur274 du Barte.
To ‘your ladyʼ? Well, sir, speak your mind to ‘your ladyʼ.
You are very welcome, sir, and I pray how doth he?
In health, madam, thanks be to God, commending 278his duty to your ladyship, and hath sent you a message which 279I would desire your honour to hear in private.
‘My ladyshipʼ, and ‘my honorʼ! They be words which I 281must have you leave. They be idle words, and you shall 282answer for them truly. ‘My duty to youʼ, or ‘I desire youʼ, 283were a great deal better than ‘my ladyshipʼ, or ‘my honourʼ.
I thank you for your Christian admonition.
Nay, thank God for me. Come, I will hear your 286message with all my heart, and you are very welcome, sir.
[Aside] ‘With all my heart, and you are very welcome, sirʼ, and 288go and talk with a young lusty fellow able to make a manʼs 289hair stand upright on his head! What purity is there in this, 290trow you? Ha, what wench of the faculty could have been 291more forward? Well, sir, I will know your message. [Aloud] You, sir, 292you, sir, what says the holy man, sir? Come, tell true, for by 293heaven or hell I will have it out.
Why you shall, sir, if you be so desirous.
Nay, sir, I am more than so desirous. Come, sir, study 296not for a new device now.
Not I, my lord, this is both new and old. I am a scholar, 298and being spiritually inclined by your ladyʼs most godly 299life, I am to profess the ministry and to become her chaplain, 300 to which end Monsieur du Barte hath commended me.
Her chaplain, in the Devilʼs name, fit to be vicar 302of hell!
My good head, what are you afraid of? He comes with 304a godly and neighbourly suit. What, think you his words or his 305looks can tempt me? Have you so little faith? If every word he 306spake were a serpent as subtle as that which tempted Eve, he 307cannot tempt me, I warrant you.
Well answered for him, lady, by my faith. Well, hark you, 309Iʼll keep your chaplainʼs place yonder for a while, and at 310length put in one myself.
4.95.1Enter Lemot.
4.96What, more yet? Godʼs my passion, 311whom do I see? The very imp of desolation, the minion of our 312King, whom no man sees to enter his house but he 313locks up his wife, his children, and his maids, for 314where he goes he carries his house upon his head like a 315snail. Now, sir, I hope your business is to me.
No, sir, I must crave a word with my lady.
These words are intolerable, and she shall hear no more.
She must hear me speak.
Must she, sir? Have you brought the Kingʼs warrant 320for it?
I have brought that which is above kings.
Why, every man for her sake is a Puritan. The Devil 323I think will shortly turn Puritan, or the Puritan will 324turn devil.
What have you brought, sir?
Marry this, madam. You know we ought to prove 327one anotherʼs constancy, and I am come in all chaste and 328honourable sort to prove your constancy.
You are very welcome, sir, and I will abide your 330proof. It is my duty to abide your proof.
Youʼll bide his proof? It is your duty to bide his 332proof! How the devil will you bide his proof?
My good head, no otherwise than before your face 334in all honourable and religious sort. I tell you I am constant 335to you, and he comes to try whether I be so or no, which I 336must endure. Begin your proof, sir.
Nay, madam, not in your husbandʼs hearing, though in 338his sight, for there is no woman will show she is tempted 339from her constancy, though she be a little. Withdraw yourself,340 sweet lady.
4.108.1[They withdraw.]
[Aside] Well, I will see though I do not hear. Women may 342be courted without offence, so they resist the courtier.
Dear and most beautiful lady, of all the sweet honest344 and honourable means to prove the purity of a ladyʼs 345constancy, kisses are the strongest. I will therefore be bold 346to begin my proof with a kiss.
No, sir, no kissing.
No kissing, madam? How shall I prove you then sufficiently349 not using the most sufficient proof? To flatter yourself 350by affection of spirit, when it is not perfectly tried, is sin.
You say well, sir. That which is truth is truth.
Then do you well, lady, and yield to the truth.
By your leave, sir, my husband sees. Peradventure 354it may breed an offence to him.
How can it breed an offence to your husband to 356see your constancy perfectly tried?
You are an odd man, I see. But first, I pray, tell me 358how kissing is the best proof of chaste ladies.
To give you a reason for that, you must give me 360leave to be obscure and philosophical.
I pray you be. I love philosophy well.
Then thus, madam: every kiss is made, as the 363voice is, by imagination and appetite, and as both those are 364presented to the ear in the voice, so are they to the silent 365spirits in our kisses.
To what spirit mean you?
To the spirits of our blood.
What if it do?
Why then, my imagination and mine appetite 370working upon your ears in my voice, and upon your spirits371 in my kisses, piercing therein the more deeply, they 372give the stronger assault against your constancy.
Why then, to say, ‘prove my constancyʼ, is as much 374as to say, ‘kiss meʼ.
Most true, rare lady.
Then prove my constancy.
Believe me, madam, you gather exceeding wittily 378 upon it.
4.128.1[Kisses her]
Oh my forehead, my very heart aches at a blow! [Aloud] 380What dost thou mean, wife? Thou wilt lose thy fame, 381discredit thy religion, and dishonour me forever.
Away, sir, I will abide no more of your proof, nor 383endure any more of your trial.
Oh, she dares not, she dares not. I am as glad I have 385tried your purity as may be. You, the most constant lady 386in France? I know an hundred ladies in this town that 387will dance, revel all night amongst gallants, and in the 388morning go to bed to her husband as clear a woman as if she 389were new christened, kiss him, embrace him, and say, ‘no, 390no, husband, thou art the manʼ, and he takes her for the 391woman.
And all this can I do.
Take heed of it, wife.
Fear not, my good head, I warrant you, for 395him.
Nay, madam, triumph not before the victory. 397How can you conquer that against which you never 398strive, or strive against that which never encounters you? 399To live idle in this walk, to enjoy this company, to wear 400this habit, and have no more delights than those will 401afford you, is to make Virtue an idle housewife, and to hide 402herself in slothful cobwebs that still should be 403adorned with actions of victory. No, madam, if you will 404unworthily prove your constancy to your husband, you must 405put on rich apparel, fare daintily, hear music, read 406sonnets, be continually courted, kiss, dance, feast, revel 407all night amongst gallants. Then if you come to bed to 408your husband with a clear mind and a clear body, then 409are your virtues ipsissima, then have you passed the full test 410of experiment, and you shall have an hundred gallants 411fight thus far in blood for the defence of your 412reputation.
O vanity of vanities!
Oh husband, this is perfect trial indeed.
And you will try all this now, will you not?
Yea, my good head, for it is written, we must pass 417to perfection through all temptation, Habbakuk the fourth.
Habbakuk? Cuck me no cucks! In aʼ doors, I 419say. Thieves, Puritans, murderers! In aʼ doors, I 420say.
4.140.1Exit [with Florila].
So now is he stark mad, iʼfaith. But, sirrah, as this is an 422old lord jealous of his young wife, so is ancient Countess 423Moren jealous of her young husband. Weʼll thither to have 424some sport, iʼfaith.
4.141.1Exeunt.
424.1[Scene 5]
I prithee, Besha, keep a little off.
My Lord, pardonnez-moi, I must not let her talk alone 430with anyone, for her father gave me charge.
Oh, you are a goodly charger for a goose.
A goose! You are a gander to call me goose. I am 433a Christian gentleman as well as you.
Well, sirrah, get you hence, or by my troth Iʼll have 435thee taken out in a blanket, tossed from forth our hearing.
In a blanket? What, do you make a puppy of me? By 437skies and stones, I will go and tell your lady.
5.7.1Exit.
Nay, but Besha —
Nay, he will tell, my lord.
Why, how now, my lord. What, thought you I was 442dead, that you are wooing of another thus, or are you laying 443plots to work my death?
Why neither, sweet bird. What need you move 445these questions unto me, whom you know loves you 446above all the women in the world?
How he can flatter now he hath made a fault.
He can do little, an he cannot cog.
Out, you ass.
Well, come tell me what you did entreat.
Nothing, by heaven, sweet bird, I swear, but to 452entreat her love —
But to entreat her love!
Nay, hear me out.
Nay here you are out. You are out too much, 456methinks, and put me in —
And put you in?
In a fair taking, sir, I mean.
Oh, you may see what hasty taking is. You women 460evermore scramble for our words, and never take them 461mannerly from our mouths.
Come, tell me what you did entreat.
I did entreat her love to Colinet.
To Colinet? Oh, he is your dear cousin, and your 465kind heart, iʼfaith, is never well but when you are doing 466good for every man. Speak, do you love me?
Iʼfaith, sweet bird.
Best of all others?
Best of all others.
Thatʼs my good bird, iʼfaith.
Oh, mistress, will you love me so?
No, by my troth, will I not.
‘No, by my troth, will I notʼ? Why, thatʼs well said. I 474could never get her to flatter me yet.
Good morrow, my good lord, and these passing 477lovely ladies.
So now we shall have all manner of flattering with 479Monsieur Lemot.
You are all manner of ways deceived, madam, for 481I am so far from flattering you, that I do not a whit 482praise you.
Why do you call us passing lovely then?
Because you are passing from your loveliness.
Madam, we shall not have one mot of Monsieur 486Lemot, but it shall be as it were a moat to drown all our 487conceit in admiration.
488Lemot
See what a mote her quick eye can spy in mine, 489before she looks in it.
So mote I thee, thine answer is as good as mought 491be.
Hereʼs a poor name run out of breath quickly.
Why, Monsieur Lemot, your name is run out of 494breath at every word you speak.
Thatʼs because my name signifies ‘wordʼ.
496Martia
Well hit, Monsieur Verbum.
What, are you good at Latin, lady?
No, sir, but I know what verbum is.
Why, ʼtis green bum: vert is green, and you know 500what bum is, I am sure of that.
No, sir, ʼtis a verb, and I can decline you.
That you can, Iʼll be sworn.
What can I do?
Decline me, or take me a hole lower, as the 505proverb is.
Nay, sir, I mean plain grammatical declination.
Well, letʼs hear your scholarship, and decline me.
I will, sir, moto, motas.
Oh excellent! She hath called him ass in Latin.
Well, sir, forward.
Nay, thereʼs enough to try both our scholarships
Moto, motas. Nay, faith, forward to motavi, or motandi.
Nay, sir, Iʼll leave when I am well.
Why, Monsieur Lemot, your name being in word 515general, is in ninny, or in hammer, or in cock, or in buzzard.
Or in wagtail, or in woodcock, or in dotterel, or in 517dizzard.
Or in clot, or in head, or in cow, or in baby.
Or in malkin, or in trash, or in pap, or in lady.
Or, indeed, in everything.
Why, then ʼtis in thing.
Then, good Monsieur Thing, there let it rest.
Then, above all things, I must have a word with 524you.
Hands off, sir, she is not for your mowing.
She is for your mocking.
An she mock me, Iʼll tell her father.
Thatʼs a good child, thou smellest of the mother, and 529she was a fool, I warrant you.
530Labesha
Meddle with me, but do not meddle with my 531mother.
Thatʼs a good child. [To Martia] Come, I must needs have a 533word with you.
5.73.1[They withdraw.]
You shall do none of your needs with her, sir.
Why, what will you do?
What will I do? You shall see what Iʼll do.
5.76.1Then he offereth to draw [his sword].
Go to, you ass! Offer to draw here, and weʼll draw 538thee out of the house by the heels.
What, three against one? Now was ever proper 540hard-favoured gentleman so abused?
5.79541Go to, Mistress Martia, I see you well enough. Are 542you not ashamed to stand talking alone with such a one as 543he?
How, sir? With such a one as I, sir?
Yea, sir, with such a one as you, sir.
Why, what am I?
What are you, sir? Why, I know you well enough.
Sirrah, tell me what you know me for, or else by 549heaven Iʼll make thee better thou hadst never known how to 550speak.
Why, sir, if you will needs know, I know you for 552an honourable gentleman and the Kingʼs minion, and were 553it not to you, thereʼs neʼer a gentleman in Paris should have 554had her out of my hands.
Nay, heʼs as tall a gentleman of his hands as any 556is in Paris.
Thereʼs a favour for you, sir.
But I can get no favour for you, sir.
I pray, my lord, entreat for your cousin Colinet.
Alas, man, I dare not for my wife.
Why, my lord, she thinks it is for nothing, but to 562speak for your cousin.
I pray you, bird, give me leave to speak for my 564cousin.
I am content for him.
Then one word with you more, courteous Lady 567Martia.
Not an you were my father!
Gentlemen, for Godʼs sake thrust this ass out of the 570doors.
5.96.1[Moren moves to Martia.]
Nay, byʼrlady, heʼll run home and tell her 572father.
Well, go to her. I warrant he shall not trouble you. [To Labesha] 574Kind gentleman, how we dote on thee. Embrace him, 575gentlemen.
Oh, sweet Besha, how we honour thee.
Nay gentlemen, look what a piercing eye he 578hath.
An eye? I have an eye an it were a pole-cat.
Nay, look what a nose he hath.
My nose is neat crimson.
Nay, look what a handsome man he is. O 583 Nature, Nature,
Truly, truly, gentlemen, I do not deserve this 586kindness.
Oh lord, sir, you are too modest. Come shall we 588walk?
Whither? To the alehouse?
Hark you, madam, have you no more care of the 591right of your husband, than to let him talk thus 592affectionately with another?
Why, he speaks not for himself, but for his cousin 594Colinet.
Godʼs my life! He tells you so. Nay, an these excuses 596may serve I have done.
By the mass, now I observe him, he looks very 598suspiciously indeed. Neʼer trust me if his lookes and his 599gesture do not plainly show himself to swear, ‘By this 600light, I do love theeʼ.
Byʼrlady, madam, you guess shrewdly indeed. 602But hark you, madam, I pray let not me be the author 603of discord between my good lord and you.
No, no, Monsieur Lemot, I were blind if I could 605not see this. Iʼll slit her nose, by Jesus.
5.114.1[Starting for Martia.]
How now, whatʼs the matter?
Whatʼs the matter? If I could come at your mistress, 608she should know whatʼs the matter.
My mistress?
Yea, your mistress. Oh, hereʼs fair dissimulation! [To Martia] Oh, ye 611impudent gossip, do I send for you to my house to make 612you my companion, and do you use me thus? Little dost thou 613know what ʼtis to love a man truly, for if thou didst, thou 614wouldst be ashamed to wrong me so.
You wrong me, madam, to say I wrong you.
Go to, get you out of my house.
I am gone, madam.
5.121.1[Makes as if to leave.]
Well, come in, sweet bird and Iʼll persuade thee 619thereʼs no harm done.
Well, we shall hear your persuasions.
5.123.1[Exeunt Countess and Moren.]
Well, God knows and I can partly guess what he 622must do to persuade her. Well, take your fair charge, fair 623and manly Lord Monsieur Labesha.
One word with you more, fair lady.
Not a word. No man on pain of death, not a word. 626He comes upon my rapierʼs point, that comes within forty 627foot on her.
Thanks, good Lemot, and thanks gentlemen all, 629and her father shall thank you.
5.127.1[Exeunt Labesha and Martia.]
Much good do it you, sir. Come, gentlemen, letʼs go 631wait upon the King, and see the humour of the young Lord 632Dowsecer.
Excuse me to the King, and tell him I will meet 635him there.
5.129.1[Exeunt Colinet, Catalian and Blanvel.]
5.130So, this is but the beginning of sport between 636this fine lord and his old lady. But this wench Martia hath 637happy stars reigned at the disposition of her beauty, for 638the King himself doth mightily dote on her. Now to my 639Puritan, and see if I can make up my full proof of her.
5.130.1[Exit.]
639.1[Scene 6]
Now am I up and ready. Ready? Why?
6.4To some fit action for our several state.
6.8One manʼs content, and he my husband is.
6.12I am content, because it is my duty
6.15The time seem short, if it do laughter cause,
6.18Nor can the godliest woman in the world
6.21But what shall she reap hereby?
6.26Iʼll have a dialogue between myself
6.31For perfect things are not the worse for trial.
6.34Thanks, gentle Reason, Iʼll trouble you no more.
Let him, my lord. I hope I am more blessed
But if by frailty you should yield in thought,
673Florila
Then shall you keep me close,
6.41If not, then boldly may I go abroad.
But how shall I know whether you yield or no?
Hear us yourself, my lord.
677Labervele
Tut, that were gross,
Then to assure you if I yield or no,
6.49If I resist, I will triumph, and smile,
Why, this doth satisfy me mightily.
6.53.1[Enter Lemot.]
See, he is 687come.
Honour to my good lord and his fair young lady.
Now, Monsieur Satan, you are come to 690tempt
6.57And prove at full the spirit of my wife.
I am, my lord, but vainly, I suppose.
You see she dares put on this brave attire,
My lord, I see it, and the sight thereof
Nay, prove her, prove her, sir, and spare not.
Well, sir, though half discouraged in my 702coming,
6.69Yet Iʼll go forward. Lady, by your leave.
6.69.1[He crosses to Florila.]
Now, sir, your cunning in a ladyʼs proof.
Madam, in proving you I find no proof
I do believe you. Who will swear he loves
711Lemot
Most true rare lady.
Then are we fitly met. I love you too.
Exceeding excellent.
Nay, I know you will applaud me in this 715course.
6.80But to let common circumstances pass,
Dear life, you ravish my conceit with joy.
[Aside] I long to see the signs that she will make.
I told my husband I would make these signs:
6.87But it shall say, ‘iʼfaith, sir, we are oneʼ.
[Aside] Now she triumphs and points to heaven, I 723warrant you.
Then must I seem as if I would hear no more
[Aside] Now she stops in
And when I thrust you thus against the breast,
[Aside] Now is he overthrown both horse and foot.
[Aloud] Away, vain man, have I not answered you?
Madam, I yield and swear I never saw
[To Lemot] Now, speak, I pray, and speak but truly,
My lord, my labour is not altogether lost,
Ah, sirrah, is the edge of your steel wit
It is, my lord. Yet one word more, fair lady.
[Aside] Fain would he have it do, and it will not be. [To Florila] Hark 743you, wife, what sign will you make me now if you 744relent not?
Lend him my handkerchief to wipe his lips of their 746last disgrace.
Excellent good. Go forward, sir, I pray.
[To Lemot] Another sign, iʼfaith, love, is required.
Let him have signs enough, my heavenly love.
6.114Where if you will do me the grace to come,
6.117Where you shall be unseen of any man,
6.120With his high presence,
Iʼll send for Martia then, and meet you there,
6.126[Aloud] We pray, sir, wipe your lips of the disgrace
[Going] Marry, the Devil was never so despited.
Nay, stay, sir.
No, no, my Lord, you have the constantest wife that 765ever — well, Iʼll say no more.
6.130.1Exit.
Never was minion so disminionèd.
6.134Florila
Come, my good head, come.
6.134.1Exeunt.
769.1[Scene 7]
Why sound these trumpets, in the Devilʼs 772name?
To show the King comes.
To show the King comes?
7.6Not telling what I am, but what I seem:
7.10And such are all the affections of love
How now, my liege! What, quagmired in 782philosophy,
Peace, Lemot. They say the young Lord Dowsecer
7.17As men suppose,
Yea, but hark you, my liege, Iʼll tell you a better 793humour than that. Here presently will be your fair love, 794Martia, to see his humour, and from thence, fair countess 795Florila and she will go unto Verone's ordinary, where none 796but you and I and Count Moren will be most merry.
Why, Count Moren, I hope, dares not adventure 798into any womanʼs company but his wifeʼs.
Yes, as I will work, my liege, and then let me alone 800to keep him there till his wife comes.
That will be royal sport.
7.26.1803Enter Labervele, Labesha, and all the rest [the Countess, Moren, Foyes, Martia and Florila].
My liege, you are welcome to my poor house.
[Presenting Labesha] I pray, my liege, know this gentleman especially. 806He is a gentleman born, I can tell you.
With all my heart. What might I call your name?
Monsieur Labesha, Seigneur de Foulasa.
De Foulasa? An ill-sounding baronry, of my word. But 810to the purpose. Lord Labervele, we are come to see the 811humour of your rare son, which by some means I pray let 812us partake.
Your highness shall too unworthily partake the sight 814which I with grief and tears daily behold, seeing in him 815the end of my poor house.
You know not that, my lord. Your wife is young, 817and he perhaps hereafter may be moved to more society.
Would to God he would, that we might do to 819your crown of France more worthy and more acceptable820 service.
Thanks, good my lord. See where he appears.
7.37Say, Lavel, where is your friend, the young Lord Dowsecer?
I look, my liege, he will be here anon, but then I 826must entreat your majesty and all the rest to stand unseen, 827for he as yet will brook no company.
We will stand close, Lavel, but wherefore bring 829you this apparel, that picture, and that sword?
To put him, by the sight of them, in mind of their 831brave states that use them, or that at the least of the true use 832they should be put unto.
Indeed, the sense doth still stir up the soul, and 834though these objects do not work, yet it is very probable 835in time she may. At least, we shall discern his humour of them.
See where he comes contemplating. Stand close.
Quid ei potest videri magnum in rebus humanis cui aeternitas 839omnis totiusque nota sit mundi magnitudo.
7.47A speech divine, but yet I marvel much
7.51Wearing thyself by watchful candle-light,
7.55Armed with religious supplications,
7.59For acorns now no more are in request;
7.62Men were like giants then, but pygmies now,
How like you this humour, my liege?
This is no humour; this is but perfect judgement.
Is this a frenzy?
858Martia
Oh were all men such,
[Noticing the sword] See, see, the shameless world,
7.70With these gross ensigns of her lenity,
7.74By natural and casual accidents,
7.76Old aqua-vitae, and too base wines,
7.77.1[Noticing the hose and codpiece]
7.80And take away their merits and their spirits.
7.84For they may sing, in written books they find it.
7.87For let it be but mean, so in the fashion,
7.91A codpiece, nay indeed, but hose must down.
And so he doth despise our purposes.
Bear with him yet, my lord, he is not 882resolved.
I would not have my friend mock worthy men,
I do not here deride difference of states,
7.103Nor would I have with imitated shapes
7.108For nothing but their curls and formal locks,
7.112[Noticing the picture] But what a stock am I thus to neglect
Heavens grant that make him more humane, and 898sociable.
Nay, heʼs more humane than all we are.
I fear he will be too sharp to that sweet sex.
She is very fair. I think that she be painted.
7.121They have small skill. If they were all of painting,
7.127Would joy in their society.
And who would not die with such a man?
But to admire them as our gallants do,
7.133Make such pollution of our earthly being.
Oh, happy man, now have I hope in her.
Methinks I could endure him days and nights.
Well, sir, now thus must I do, sir, ere it come to919women. ‘Now, sirʼ — a plague upon it, ʼtis so ridiculous I can no 920further. What poor ass was it that set this in my way? Now 921if my father should be the man — [Sees Labervele] Godʼs precious coals, ʼtis 922he!
Good son, go forward in this gentle humour.
7.141Whom for our house and honour sake, I wish
To marry father? Why, we shall have children.
Why, thatʼs the end of marriage, and the joy of 929men.
Oh, how you are deceived. You have but me,
7.150To fat oxen, asses and such-like,
7.152Into beastsʼ nourishment,
7.155Seeing my race is so profitably increased,
7.160But for the joys of children, tush, ʼtis gone.
7.163And but in wealth no man hath any joy.
Some course, dear son, take for thy honour sake.
Then, father, hereʼs a most excellent corse.
This is some comfort yet.
If you will straight be gone and leave me here,
7.169And trouble none of you.
7.169.1[Sees Martia]
949Labervele
An hapless man.
How like you this humour yet, my liege?
As of a holy fury, not a frenzy.
See, see, my liege, he hath seen us sure.
Nay, look how he views Martia and makes 954him fine.
Yea, my liege, and she, as I hope well observed, hath 957uttered many kind conceits of hers.
Well, Iʼll be gone, and when she comes to 959Veroneʼs ordinary, Iʼll have her taken to my custody.
Iʼll stay, my liege, and see the event of this.
Do so, Lemot.
7.177.1Exit the King.
What have I seen? How am I burnt to dust
7.182Into gestion? O divine aspect,
7.185My soul to sense, but sense unto my soul,
7.187But even as angels do to angels fly.
7.187.1Exit.
Fly soul and follow him.
I marvel much at my sonʼs sudden strange 971behaviour.
Bear with him yet, my lord, ʼtis but his humour. 973Come. What, shall we go to Veroneʼs ordinary?
Yea, for Godʼs sake, for I am passing hungry.
Yea, come, Monsieur Lemot, will you walk?
What, will you go?
Yea, sweet bird, I have promised so.
Go to, you shall not go and leave me alone.
For one meal, gentle bird. Verone invites us to buy 980some jewels he hath brought of late from Italy. Iʼll buy the 981best and bring it thee, so thou wilt let me go.
Well said, flattering Fabian. But tell me, then, what 983ladies will be there?
Ladies? Why, none.
No ladies use to come to ordinaries, madam.
Go to, bird, tell me now the very truth.
None of mine honour, bird. You never heard that 988ladies came to ordinaries.
Oh, thatʼs because I should not go with you.
Why, ʼtis not fit you should.
Well, hark you, bird, of my word you shall not go, 993unless you will swear to me, you will neither court nor 994kiss a dame in any sort, till you come home again.
Why, I swear I will not.
Go to, by this kiss.
Yea, by this kiss.
Martia, learn by this when you are a wife.
I like the kissing well.
My lord, Iʼll leave you. Your son Dowsecer hath 1001made me melancholy with his humour, and Iʼll go lock 1002myself in my close walk till supper-time.
What, and not dine today?
No, my good head. Come, Martia, you and I will 1005fast together.
With all my heart, madam.
7.213.1Exit [with Florila].
Well, gentlemen, Iʼll go see my son.
7.214.1Exit.
Byʼrlady, gentlemen, Iʼll go home to dinner.
Home to dinner? Byʼrlord, but you shall not. You 1010shall go with us to the ordinary, where you shall meet 1011gentlemen of so good carriage and passing complements it 1012will do your heart good to see them. Why, you never saw the
1013best sort of gentlemen if not at ordinaries.
I promise you thatʼs rare, my lord. And, Monsieur 1015Lemot, Iʼll meet you there presently.
Weʼll expect your coming.
1017.1[Scene 8]
8.0.11018Enter Verone with his napkin upon his shoulder, and his 1019man Jaques with another, and his son [Boy] bringing 1020in cloth and napkins.
1022Come on, my masters, shadow these tables with 1023their white veils, accomplish the court-cupboard, wait 1024diligently today for my credit and your own, that if the 1025meat should chance to be raw, yet your behaviours being 1026neither rude nor raw, may excuse it. Or if the meat should 1027chance to be tough, be you tender over them in your 1028attendance, that the one may bear with the other.
Faith, some of them be so hard to please, finding 1030fault with your cheer and discommending your wine, 1031saying they fare better at Valereʼs for half the money.
Besides, if there be any chibols in your napkins, 1033they say your nose or ours have dropped on them, and then 1034they throw them about the house.
But these be small faults. You may bear with 1036them. Young gentlemen and wild heads will be doing.
Come, whose wit was it to cover in this room, in the 1039name of God, I trow?
Why, I hope this room is as fair as the other.
In your foolish opinion. You might have told a 1042wise body so and kept yourself a fool still.
I cry you mercy. How bitter you are in your 1044proverbs.
So bitter I am, sir.
8.9.1[Jaquena removes the cloth from the table nearest her]
[Aside] Oh, sweet Jaquena, I dare not say I love thee.
Must you control us, you proud baggage, you?
Baggage? You are a knave to call me baggage.
A knave? My master shall know that.
[Aside] I will not see them.
Master, here is your maid uses herself so saucily1052 that one house shall not hold us two long, God 1053willing.
Come hither, hussy. [Aside to Jaquena] Pardon me, sweet Jaquena. 1055I must make an angry face outwardly, though I smile 1056inwardly.
Say what you will to me, sir.
[Aloud] Oh, you are a fine gossip. Can I not keep honest 1059servants in my house, but you must control them, you 1060must be their mistress?
Why, I did but take up the cloth, because my 1062mistress would have the dinner in another room, and he 1063called me baggage.
You called me knave and fool, I thank you, small 1066bones.
Go to, go to, she were wise enough would talk 1068with you.
Go thy ways for the proudest harlotry that ever 1070came in our house.
8.22.1[Exit Jaquena.]
Let her alone, boy. I have schooled her, I warrant thee. 1072She shall not be my maid long, if I can help it.
No, I think so, sir. But what, shall I take up the 1074cloth?
No, let the cloth lie. Hither theyʼll come first, I am sure 1076of it. Then if they will dine in the other room, they shall.
Good morrow, my host. Is nobody come yet?
Your worship is the first, sir.
I was invited by my cousin, Colinet to see your 1081jewels.
I thank his worship and yours.
Hereʼs a pretty place for an ordinary. I am very 1084sorry I have not used to come to ordinaries.
I hope we shall have your company hereafter.
You are very like to.
Good morrow, my host, good morrow, good 1089Monsieur Rowley.
Good morrow to you, sir.
What, are we two the first? Giveʼs the cards, here. 1092Come, this gentleman and I will go to cards while dinner 1093be ready.
No, truly, I cannot play at cards.
How! Not play? Oh, for shame, say not so. How can a 1096young gentleman spend his time but in play and in courting 1097his mistress? Come, use this, lest youth take too much of the 1098other.
Faith, I cannot play, and yet I care not so much 1101to venture two or three crowns with you.
Oh, I thought what I should find of you. I pray God 1103I have not met with my match.
No, trust me, sir, I cannot play.
Hark you, my host, have you a pipe of good 1106tobacco?
The best in the town. Boy, dry a leaf.
[Aside] Thereʼs none in the house, sir.
[Aside] Dry a dock leaf.
8.44.1[Boy exits and returns with a pipe.]
My host, do you know Monsieur Blanvel?
Yea, passing well, sir.
Why, he was taken learning tricks at old Lucillaʼs 1113house, the muster-mistress of all the smock-tearers in Paris, 1114and both the bawd and the pander were carried to the 1115dungeon.
There was dungeon upon dungeon. But call you her 1117the muster-mistress of all the smock-tearers in Paris?
Yea, for she hath them all trained up afore her.
Good morrow, my host; good morrow, gentlemen all.
Good morrow, Monsieur Blanvel. I am glad of your 1122quick delivery.
Delivery? What, didst thou think I was with child?
Yea, of a dungeon.
Why, how knew you that?
Why, Berger told us.
Berger, who told you of it?
One that I heard, by the Lord.
Oh, excellent. You are still playing the wag.
Good morrow, gentlemen all; good morrow, good 1132Monsieur Rowley.
At your service.
I pray, my lord, look what a pretty falling-band he hath. 1135ʼTis pretty fantastical, as I have seen, made with good 1136judgement, great show, and but little cost.
And so it is, I promise you. Who made it, I 1138pray?
I know not, iʼfaith. I bought it by chance.
It is a very pretty one; make much of it.
Boy, I prithee call for a coarse napkin. [Exit Boy.] Good 1143morrow, gentlemen. I would you had been at the tennis-court: 1144you should have seen me abeat Monsieur Besan, and I 1145gave him fifteen and all his faults.
Thou didst more for him than ever God will do for 1147thee.
Jaques, I prithee fill me a cup of canary, three parts 1149water.
8.67.1[Exit Jaques.]
You shall have all water, an if it please you.
Who called for a coarse napkin?
Marry I, sweetheart. Do you take the pains to 1154bring it yourself? Have at you, by my hostʼs leave.
8.70.1[He kisses her.]
Away, sir, fie, for shame.
Hark you, my host, you must marry this young 1157wench. You do her mighty wrong else.
Oh, sir, you are a merry man.
8.73.1[Exit Verone and Jaquena.]
Good morrow, gentlemen. You see I am as good as 1161my word.
You are, sir, and I am very glad of it.
You are welcome, Monsieur Foyes. [To Labesha] But you are not, 1164no, not you.
No? Welcome that gentleman, ʼtis no matter for me.
How, sir? No matter for you. By this rush, I am angry 1167with you, as if all our loves protested unto you were 1168dissembled. No matter for you?
Nay, sweet Lemot, be not angry. I did but jest, as I am 1170a gentleman.
Yea, but thereʼs a difference of jesting. You wrong 1172all our affections in so doing.
Faith and troth, I did not, and I hope sirs you take it 1174not so.
‘No matter for meʼ, ʼtwas very unkindly said, I must 1176needs say so.
You see how they love me.
I do, sir, and I am very glad of it.
And I hope, Lemot, you are not angry with me still.
No, faith, I am not so very a fool to be angry with 1181one that cares not for me.
Do not I care for you? Nay, then.
8.87.1[He weeps.]
What, dost thou cry?
Nay, I do not cry, but my stomach waters to think 1185that you should take it so heavily. If I do not wish that I 1186were cut into three pieces, and that these pieces were 1187turned into three black puddings, and that these three black 1188puddings were turned into three of the fairest ladies in the 1189land for your sake, I would I were hanged. What a devil can 1190you have more than my poor heart?
Well, hark you, Lemot, in good faith you are to 1192blame to put him to this unkindness. I prithee, be friends 1193with him.
Well, I am content to put up this unkindness for 1195this once. But while you live take heed of ‘no matter for 1196meʼ.
Why, is it such a heinous word?
Oh, the heinousest word in the world.
Well, Iʼll never speak it more, as I am a gentleman.
No, I pray do not.
My lord, will your lordship go to cards?
Yea, with you, Monsieur Foyes.
Lemot, will you play?
Pardon, good Monsieur Rowley. If I had any 1205disposition to gaming your company should draw me before1206any manʼs here.
Labesha, what, will you play?
Play, yea, with all my heart. I pray lend me 1209threepence.
Iʼll play no more.
Why, have you won or lost?
Faith, I have lost two or three crowns.
Well, to him again, Iʼll be your half.
Sirrah Catalian, while they are playing at cards, 1215thou and I will have some excellent sport. [Aside to Catalian] Sirrah, dost thou 1216know that same gentleman there? [Indicating Rowley]
[Aside to Lemot] No, iʼfaith, what is he?
[Aside to Catalian] A very fine gull and a neat reveller, one thatʼs heir 1219to a great living, yet his father keeps him so short, that his
1220shirts will scant cover the bottom of his belly, for all his gay 1221outside; but the linings be very foul and sweaty, yea, and 1222perhaps lousy, with despising the vain shifts of the 1223world.
[Aside to Lemot] But he hath gotten good store of money now, 1225methinks.
[Aside to Catalian] Yea, and I wonder of it. Some ancient serving-man 1227of his fatherʼs that hath gotten forty shillings in fifty years 1228upon his great good husbandry, he swearing monstrous 1229oaths to pay him again, and besides to do him a good 1230turn (when God shall hear his prayer for his father) hath 1231lent it him, I warrant you. But, howsoever, we must speak 1232him fair.
[Aside to Lemot] Oh, what else!
[Aloud] God save sweet Monsieur Rowley. What, lose or 1235win, lose or win?
Faith, sir, save myself and lose my money.
Thereʼs a proverb hit dead in the neck like a 1238cony. [Aside to Catalian] Why, hark thee, Catalian; I could have told thee 1239before what he would have said.
[Aside to Lemot] I do not think so.
[Aside to Catalian] No? Thou seest hereʼs a fine plump of gallants, such 1242as think their wits singular, and their selves rarely 1244accomplished. Yet to show thee how brittle their wits be, I will 1245speak to them severally, and I will tell thee before what 1246they shall answer me.
[Aside to Lemot] Thatʼs excellent, letʼs see that, iʼfaith.
[Aside to Catalian] Whatsoever I say to Monsieur Rowley, he shall 1249say, ‘Oh, sir, you may see an ill weed grows apaceʼ.
[Aside to Lemot] Come, letʼs see.
[Aloud] Now, Monsieur Rowley, methinks you are 1252exceedingly grown since your to Paris.
Oh, sir, you may see an ill weed grows apace.
[Aside to Lemot] This is excellent, forward, sir, I pray.
[Aside to Catalian] Whatsoeʼer I say to Labesha, he shall answer me, 1256‘Black will bear no other hueʼ, and that same old Justice, 1257as greedy of a stale proverb, he shall come in the neck 1258of that and say, ‘Black is a pearl in a womanʼs eyeʼ.
[Aside to Lemot] Yea, much, iʼfaith.
[Aside to Catalian] Look thee, here comes hither Labesha. [Aloud] Catalian 1261and I have been talking of thy complexion, and I say that 1262all the fair ladies in France would have been in love with 1263thee, but that thou art so black.
Oh, sir, black will bear no other hue.
Oh, sir, black is a pearl in a womanʼs eye.
You say true, sir, you say true, sir. [Aside to Catalian] Sirrah Catalian, 1267whatsoeʼer I say to Berger that is so busy at cards, he shall 1268answer me, ‘ʼSblood, I do not mean to die as long as I can 1269see one aliveʼ.
[Aside to Lemot] Come, let us see you.
[Aloud] Why, Berger, I thought thou hadst been dead. I 1272have not heard thee chide all this while.
ʼSblood, I do not mean to die as long as I can see 1274one alive.
[Aside to Lemot] Why, but hark you, Lemot, I hope you cannot 1276make this lord answer so roundly.
[Aside to Catalian] Oh, as right as any of them all, and he shall 1278answer me with an old Latin proverb, that is, 1279usus promptos facit.
[Aside to Lemot] Once more, letʼs see.
[Aloud] My lord, your lordship could not play at this game 1282very lately, and now methinks you are grown 1283exceeding perfect.
Oh, sir, you may see, usus promptos facit.
Monsieur Lemot, here is a gentleman and two 1287gentlewomen do desire to speak with you.
What, are they come? Jaques, convey them into 1289the inward parlour by the inwarde room, and there is a 1290brace of crowns for thy labour,
but let nobody know of 1291their being here.
I warrant you, sir.
8.139.1[Exit Jaques.]
See where they come. Welcome, my good lord and 1294ladies, Iʼll come to you presently. [Aside] So, now the sport begins, 1295I shall start the disguised King plaguily. Nay, I shall put 1296the lady that loves me in a monstrous fright when her 1297husband comes and finds her here.
8.140.1[Enter Boy.]
[To Lemot] The gentleman and the two gentlewomen 1299desires your company.
Iʼll come to them presently.
8.142.1The Boy speaks in Foyesʼs ear.
Gentlemen, Iʼll go speak with one, and come to 1302you presently.
8.143.1[Exit Foyes.]
My lord, I would speak a word with your 1304lordship, if it were not for interrupting your game.
No, I have done, Lemot.
My lord, there must a couple of ladies dine with 1307us today.
Ladies? Godʼs my life, I must be gone.
Why, hark you, my lord, I knew not of 1310their coming, I protest to your lordship, and would 1311you have me turn such fair ladies as these are 1312away?
Yea, but hark you, Lemot, did not you hear 1314me swear to my wife that I would not tarry if there 1315were any women? I wonder you would suffer any to come 1316there.
Why, you swore but by a kiss, and kisses are no 1318holy things, you know that.
Why, but hark you, Lemot, indeed I would be 1320very loath to do anything, that, if my wife should know it, 1321should displease her.
Nay, then you are to obsequious. Hark you, let me 1323entreat you, and Iʼll tell you in secret, you shall have no 1324worse company than the Kingʼs.
Why, will the King be there?
Yea, though disguised.
Who are the ladies?
The flowers of Paris, I can tell you: fair countess 1329Florila and the lady Martia.
Monsieur Lemot, the gentleman and the two 1332gentlewomen desire your company.
Iʼll come to them straight. But, Jaques, come hither, 1334I prithee. Go to Labesha and tell him that the Countess 1335Florila and the lady Martia be here at thy masterʼs house, 1336and if it come in question hereafter, deny that thou told 1337him any such thing.
What, is this all? ʼSblood, Iʼll deny it and forswear 1339it too.
My lord, Iʼll go and see the room be neat 1341and fine, and come to you presently.
Yea, but, hark you, Lemot, I prithee take such 1343order that they be not known of any women in the house.
Oh, how should they? [Aside] Now to his wife go, iʼfaith!
8.162.1Exit.
Hark you, Monsieur Labesha, I pray let me speak 1346a word with you.
With all my heart. I pray look to my stake, thereʼs 1348threepence under the candlestick.
I pray, sir, do you know the Countess Florila and 1350the Lady Martia?
Do I know the Lady Martia? I knew her before 1352she was borne. Why do you ask me?
Why, they are both here at my masterʼs house.
What, is Mistress Martia at an ordinary?
Yea, that she is.
By skies and stones, Iʼll go and tell her father.
8.170.1Exit.
1356.1[Scene 9]
What, you are out of breath, methinks, Monsieur 1359Lemot?
It is no matter, madam, it is spent in your service, that 1361bear your age with your honesty better than an hundred 1362of these nice gallants, and indeed it is a shame for your 1363husband, that, contrary to his oath made to you before dinner, 1364he should be now at the ordinary with that light hussy 1365Martia, which I could not choose but come and tell you. For 1366indeed it is a shame that your motherly care should be so 1367slightly regarded.
Out on thee, strumpet, and accurst and miserable 1369dame!
Well, there they are. Nothing else. [Aside] Now to her 1371husband go I.
9.4.1Exit.
‘Nothing elseʼ, quoth you. Can there be more?
9.9But he would sigh and weep till I were pleased?
9.12Making it burning hot to mark the strumpet.
9.14.1Exit.
1379.1[Scene 8 continues]
My lord, the room is neat and fine. Willʼt please 1382you go in?
8.5.1.1[Enter Verone.]
Gentlemen, your dinner is ready.
And we are ready for it.
Jaques, shut the doors. Let nobody come in.
1386.1[Scene 10]
[Knocking at door] Where be these puritans, these murderers? Let me 1390come in here.
Where is the strumpet?
Where is this harlot? Let us come in here.
What shall we do? The streets do wonder at us,
Come, Labesha, will you go?
No, no, I scorn to go. No king shall hear my plaint.
10.11And never more wear hat-band on my hat.
10.11.1[Exeunt.]
What dost thou mean? Thou must not hang on 1402me.
Oh, good Lord Moren, have me home with you.
Oh, my lord, be not so rude to leave her now.
Alas, man, an if my wife should see it, I were 1408undone.
10.16.1[Exeunt Moren and Martia.]
Pursue them, sirs, and taking Martia from him,
10.18.1[Exeunt the King and another.]
What villain was it that hath uttered this?
Why, ʼtwas even I. I thank you for your gentle 1415terms. You give me villain at the first. I wonder whereʼs 1416this old doter? What, doth he think we fear him?
Oh, monstrous man. What, wouldst thou have him 1418take us?
Would I, quoth you? Yea, by my troth would I. I know 1420he is but gone to call the constable or to raise the streets.
What means the man, trow? Is he mad?
No, no, I know what I do, I do it of purpose. I 1423long to see him come and rail at you, to call you harlot, 1424and to spurn you too. Oh, youʼll love me a great deal the 1425better. And yet, let him come, and if he touch but one thread 1426of you, Iʼll make that thread his poison.
I know not what to say.
Speak, do you love me?
Yea, surely do I.
Why, then have not I reason that love you so dearly1431 as I do, to make you hateful in his sight that I might 1432more freely enjoy you.
Why, let us be gone, my kind Lemot, and not be 1434wondered at in the open streets.
Iʼll go with you through fire, through death, through 1436hell.
10.31Come, give me your own hand, my own dear heart,
10.34Oh, let me sweetly kiss it.
Out on thee, wretch. He hath bit me to the bone.
Come, come, leave your passions, they cannot 1444move me. My father and my mother died both in a day, 1445and I rung me a peal for them, and they were no 1446sooner brought to the church and laid in their graves, but I 1447fetched me two or three fine capers aloft and took my leave 1448of them, as men do of their mistresses at the ending of a 1449galliard. Beso las manos.
Oh, brutish nature, how accurst was I ever to endure 1451the sound of this damned voice.
Well, an you do not like my humour, I can be but 1453sorry for it. I bit you for good will, an if you accept it, so; if 1454no, go.
Villain, thou didst it in contempt of me.
Well, an you take it so, so be it. Hark you, madam, 1457your wisest course is even to become Puritan again. Put 1458off this vain attire, and say, ‘I have despised all, thanks my 1459God. Good husband, I do love thee in the Lordʼ, and he 1460(good man) will think all this you have done was but to 1461show thou couldst govern the world, and hide thee as a 1462rainbow doth a storm. My dainty wench, go go. What, 1463shall the flattering words of a vain man make you forget 1464your duty to your husband? Away, repent, amend your life. 1465You have discredited your religion forever.
Well, wretch, for this foul shame thou puttest on 1467me, the curse of all affection light on thee.
10.43.1Exit.
Go, Habbakuk, go. Why, this is excellent. I shall shortly1469 become a schoolmaster, to whom men will put their 1470wives to practise. Well, now will I go set the Queen upon the 1471King, and tell her where he is close with his wench. And he 1472that mends my humour, take the spurs. Sit fast, for by 1473heaven, Iʼll jerk the horse you ride on.
10.44.1[Exit.]
1473.1[Scene 11]
Well, gentlemen, I am utterly undone without 1477your good helps. It is reported that I received certain 1478ladies or gentlewomen into my house. Now, hereʼs my man, my 1479maid, and my boy. [To them] Now, if you saw any, speak boldly before 1480these gentlemen.
I saw none, sir.
Nor I, by my maidenhead.
Nor I, as I am a man.
Well, my host, weʼll go answer for your house at 1485this time, but if at other times you have had wenches, and 1486would not let us know it, we are the less beholding to you.
Peradventure the more beholding to him, but 1489I lay my life Lemot hath devised some jest. He gave 1490us the slip before dinner.
Well, gentlemen, since we are so fitly met, Iʼll tell 1492you an excellent subject for a fit of mirth, an if it be well 1493handled.
Why, what is it?
Why man, Labesha is grown marvellous malcontent1496 upon some amorous disposition of his mistress, and 1497you know he loves a mess of cream and a spice-cake with 1498his heart, and I am sure he hath not dined today, and he hath 1499taken on him the humour of the young Lord Dowsecer, and 1500we will set a mess of cream, a spice-cake, and a spoon, 1501as the armour, picture, and apparel was set in the way of 1502Dowsecer, which I doubt not but will work a rare cure 1503upon his melancholy.
Why, this is excellent. Iʼll go fetch the cream.
And I the cake.
And I the spoon.
See where he comes, as like the Lord Dowsecer as 1509may be. Now you shall hear him begin with some Latin 1510sentence that he hath remembered ever since he read his 1511accidence.
Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum. Oh, silly state 1514of things, for things they be that cause this silly state. And 1515what is a thing? A bauble, a toy, that stands men in small stead.
11.14.1He spies the cream.
But what have we here? What vanities have we here?
[Aside to all but Labesha] He is strongly tempted, the Lord strengthen him. 1518See what a vein he hath.
Oh, cruel fortune, and dost thou spit thy spite at my 1520poor life? But oh, sour cream, what thinkest thou that I 1521love thee still? No, no, fair and sweet is my mistress. If thou 1522hadst strawberries and sugar in thee — but it may be thou 1523art set with stale cake to choke me. Well, taste it, and try it, [He starts to eat.] 1524spoonful by spoonful: bitterer and bitterer still. But oh, 1525sour cream, wert thou an onion. Since Fortune set thee 1527for me, I will eat thee, and I will devour thee in spite of 1528Fortuneʼs spite.
11.18Choke I, or burst I, mistress, for thy sake,
[Aside to all but Labesha] So he hath done. His melancholy is well eased, I 1531warrant you.
[Advancing] Godʼs my life, gentlemen, who hath been at this 1533cream?
Cream, had you cream? Where is your cream? 1535Iʼll spend my penny at your cream.
Why, did not you eat this cream?
Talk not to me of cream, for such vain meat
11.26.1[He starts to leave.]
Nay, stay, Labesha.
No, not I, not I.
11.28.1[Exit.]
Oh, he is ashamed, iʼfaith. But I will tell thee how 1543thou shalt make him mad indeed: say his mistress for love 1544of him hath drowned herself.
ʼSblood, that will make him hang himself.
1546.1[Scene 12]
12.0.11547Enter the Queen, Lemot, and all the rest of the 1548lords [Foyes and Labervele], and the Countess; Lemotʼs [right] 1549arm in a scarf.
[Aside] Have at them, iʼfaith, with a lame counterfeit 1551humour.
12.2[Aloud] Ache on, rude arm, I care not for thy pain,
Oh, tell me, sweet Lemot, how fares the King?
That you shall know when other things are told.
Keep not the Queen too long without her 1558longing.
No, for I tell you it is a dangerous thing.
Little care cruel men how women long.
What, would you have me then put poison in my 1562breath,
12.12And burn the ears of my attentive Queen.
Tell me whateʼer it be, Iʼll bear it all.
Bear with my rudeness, then, in telling it,
1567Queen
ʼTis well enough.
Yea, well enough, you say
12.19Then thus:
12.22Is fat and flat, and that your nether lip
1573Queen
Oh, wicked man.
12.25That, when he married me, he thought divine?
Nay, madam, though he said your face was fat,
Oh, did he so? Why, that was right even as it should be.
You see now, madam, how much too hasty you 1582were in your griefs.
If he did so esteem of me indeed, happy am I.
So may your highness be that hath so good a 1585husband, but hell hath no plague to such an one as I.
Indeed, madam, you have a bad husband. Truly, 1587then did the King
12.37And swore no king could more enrichèd be,
O, monstrous man, and accurst, most miserable dame!
‘Butʼ, says the King, ‘I do enjoy as fair,
12.42Yet I'll not wrong my wife for all the worldʼ.
This proves his constancy as firm as brass.
It doth, it doth. Oh, pardon me, my lord,
In heaven your highness lives, but I in hell.
But when he viewed her radiant eyes again,
Oh, dismal news! What, is my sovereign blind?
Blind as a beetle, madam, that, a while
Could her eyes blind him?
Eyes, or what it was, I know not,
Come, bring me to my prince, my lord, that I may 1608lead him. None alive but I may have the honour to direct 1609his feet.
How lead him, madam? Why, he can go as right 1611as you, or any here, and is not blind of eyesight.
Of what then?
Of reason.
Why, thou saidst he wanted his cheerful light.
Of reason still I meant, whose light you know
What mocking changes is there in thy words,
Why, madam, ʼtis your fault. You cut me off 1622before my words be half done.
Forth, and unlade the poison of thy tongue.
Another lord did love this curious lady,
12.74Of his, and two or three black ruffians more,
12.78With them I fought a while and got this wound,
Why raised you not the streetes?
1634Lemot
That I forbore,
12.83What a disgrace my liege was subject to,
Whose daughter was it that he forced, I pray?
Your daughter, sir.
Whose son was it that ran so mad for her?
Your son, my lord.
O gods and fiends forbid!
I pray, sir, from whom did he take the lady?
From your good lord.
O Lord, I beseech thee, no!
ʼTis all too true. Come, follow the Queen and I where 1646I shall lead you.
Oh, wretched Queen, what would they take from 1648him?
The instrument of procreation.
12.95.1[Exeunt omnes.]
1649.1[Scene 13]
Now was there ever man so much accurst that, 1652when his mind misgave him, such a man was hapless to 1653keep him company? Yet who would keep him company 1654but I? O vile Lemot, my wife and I are bound to curse thee 1655while we live, but chiefly I. Well, seek her or seek her not; 1656find her, or find her not, I were as good see how hell opens 1657as look upon her.
[Aside to Berger] We have him, iʼfaith. Stop thou him there, and I will meet 1660him here.
Well, I will venture once to seek her.
Godʼs lord, my lord! Come you this way? Why, 1663your wife runs ranging like as if she were mad, swearing 1664to slit your nose if she can catch you.
13.4.1Exit.
What shall I do at the sight of her and hern?
Godʼs precious, my lord! Come you this way? Your 1667wife comes ranging with a troop of dames, like Bacchusʼ 1668drunken frows, just as you go. Shift for yourself, my lord.
Stay, good Catalian.
No, not I, my lord.
13.8.1Exit.
How now, Jaques, whatʼs the news?
None but good, my lord.
Why, hast not seen my wife run round about the 1675streets?
Not I, my lord. I come to you from my master, 1677who would pray you to speak to Lemot, that Lemot might 1678speak to the King, that my masterʼs lottery for his jewels 1679may go forward. He hath made the rarest device that ever 1680you heard. We have Fortune in it, and she our maid plays, 1681and I and my fellow carry two torches, and our boy goes 1682before and speaks a speech. ʼTis very fine, iʼfaith, sir.
Sirrah, in this thou mayst highly pleasure me. Let me 1684have thy place to bear a torch, that I may look on my wife, 1685an she not see me. For if I come into her sight abruptly, I 1686were better be hanged.
Oh, sir, you shall, or anything that I can do. Iʼll send 1688for your wife too.
I prithee do.
13.15.1Exeunt both.
1689.1[Scene 14]
14.0.11690Enter the Queen, and all that were in before [Lemot, with arm in sling, Foyes, Labervele and the Countess].
This is the house
14.3Draw all your swords, courageous gentlemen.
Who will not break his neck to save his king?
Yea, much good can I do with a wounded arm.
Others shall go, nay, we will raise the streets.
[Aside] ʼSblood, I know not how to excuse my villainy. I 1702would fain be gone.
Iʼll geld the adulterous goat, and take from him
[Aside] Oh, rare! This makes my fiction true. Now Iʼll stay.
Arrest these faithless traitorous gentlemen.
What is the reason that you call us traitors?
Nay, why do you attempt such violence against 1710the person of the King?
Against the King? Why this is strange to me.
How now, my masters? What? Weapons drawn!
1715Queen
How fares my lord?
How fare I? Well. [To Lemot] But you, iʼfaith, shall get me speak 1717for you another time. [To company] He got me here to woo a curious
1718lady, and she tempts him. Say what I can, offer what 1719state I will in your behalf, Lemot, she will not yield.
Iʼfaith, my liege, what a hard heart hath she. [Aside to the King] Well, 1721hark you, I am content your wit shall save your honesty 1722for this once.
Because I feared that you were hurt, my 1726lord.
Hurt, how, I pray?
Why, hurt, madam? I am well again.
Do you ask? Why, he told me Dowsecer and this 1730his friend, threatened to take away —
To take away? What should they take away?
Name it, madam.
Nay, I pray, name it you.
Why then, thus it was, my liege. I told her 1735Dowsecer, and this his friend, threatened to take away, an 1736if they could, the instrument of procreation. And what 1737was that now but Martia? Being a fair woman, is 1738not she the instrument of procreation, as all women 1739are?
O wicked man!
Go to, go to, you are one of those fiddles too, iʼfaith.
Well, pardon my minion that hath frayed you thus.
I joy it ends so well, my gracious lord.
But say, my gracious lord, is no harm done
No, of my honour and my soul, Foyes.
The fire of love which she hath kindled in me
14.43Hath quite expelled —
Come, Dowsecer, receive with your lost wits your 1751love, thought lost. I know youʼll yield, my lord, and you, her 1752father.
Most joyfully, my lord.
And for her part I know her disposition well enough.
What, will you have her?
Yea, marry will I.
Iʼll go and tell Labesha presently.
[Aside to Lemot] Monsieur Lemot, I pray let me speak with you. I 1760come to you from the Lord Moren, who would desire you 1761to speak to the King for my masterʼs lottery, and he hath 1762my place to bear a torch, for bare-faced he dares not look 1763upon his wife, for his life.
[Aside to Jaques] Oh, excellent. Iʼll further thy masterʼs lottery an it be 1765but for this jest only. [Aloud to King] Hark you, my liege, hereʼs the poor 1766man hath been at great charges for the preparation of a lottery,1767 and he hath made the rarest device that I know you will 1768take great pleasure in it. I pray let him present it before you 1769at Veroneʼs house.
With all my heart. Can you be ready so soon?
Presently, an if it like your grace.
14.53.1[Exit with Jaques.]
But hark you, Lemot, how shall we do for every 1773manʼs posy?
Will you all trust me with the making of them?
With all our hearts.
Why, then, Iʼll go to make the posies and bring 1777Labesha to the lottery presently.
14.57.1[Exit.]
Surely the world is full of vanity.
14.61When she is tempted, when the wicked fiend
14.64Nor so pressed down in everyone as me.
14.67The gates of his kind arms, untouched of any.
What, madam, are you so pure now?
Yea, would not you be pure?
1788King
No, Puritan.
You must be then a devil, I can tell you.
Oh, wife, where hast thou been?
Where did I tell you I would be, I pray.
In thy close walk, thou saidst.
1793Florila
And was I not?
Truly, I know not. I neither looked nor knocked, 1795for Labesha told me that you and fair Martia were at 1796Veroneʼs ordinary.
Labesha? My lord, you are a wise man to believe a fool.
Well, my good head, for my part I forgive you.
14.80Thereʼs no good dealing surely. For as men
She tells you true, my lord.
She doth, my liege. And, dear wife, pardon this,
Why, I say I do.
Look you, my liege, I have done simple service 1810amongst you. Here is one had hanged himself for love, 1811thinking his mistress had done so for him. Well, see, your 1812mistress lives.
And doth my mistress live?
She doth, O noble knight, but not your 1815mistress now.
ʼSblood, but she shall for me, or for nobody else.
14.90.1[Drawing his sword]
How now. What, a traitor! Draw upon the King!
Yea, or upon any woman here in a good cause.
Well, sweet Besha, let her marry Dowsecer. Iʼll get 1820thee a wife worth fifteen of her. Wilt thou have one that 1821cares not for thee?
Not I, by the Lord, I scorn her. Iʼll have her better 1823if I can get her.
Why, thatʼs well said.
[Aside to Florila] What, madam, are you turned Puritan again?
[Aside to Lemot] When was I other, pray?
[Aside to Florila] Marry, Iʼll tell you when: when you went to the 1828ordinary, and when you made false signs to your 1829husband, which I could tell him all.
[Aside to Lemot] Cursed be he that maketh debate ʼtwixt man and wife.
[Aside to Florila] O rare scripturian! You have sealed up my lips. [Aloud] A 1832hall, a hall! The pageant of the buttery.
14.100.11833Enter two with torches, the one of them Moren, then [Verone] my host 1834and his son [Boy], then his Maid [Jaquena] dressed like Queen 1835Fortune, with two pots in her hands.
What is he?
This is Veroneʼs son, my liege.
What shall he do?
Speak some speech that his father hath made for him.
Why, is he good at speeches?
Oh, he is rare at speeches.
Fair ladies most tender,
14.108And nobles most slender,
My host, why do you call us ‘nobles most slenderʼ?
An it shall please your Grace, to be slender is to be 1846proper, and therefore where my boy says ‘nobles most 1847slenderʼ, it is as much to say, fine and proper nobles.
Yea, but why do you call us ‘gentles whose wits are 1849scarceʼ?
To be scarce is to be rare, and therefore, whereas 1851he says ‘gentles whose wits be scarceʼ, is as much as to say, 1852gentles whose wits be rare.
Well, forwards, truchman.
Fair ladies most tender,
14.116And nobles most slender,
14.119With her trump and her drum,
[To Verone] Come hither. Are you a schoolmaster? Where was 1859Fortune queen, of what country or kingdom?
Why, sir, Fortune was Queen over all the world.
Thatʼs a lie: thereʼs none that ever conquered all the 1862world, but master Alexander. I am sure of that.
O rare Monsieur Labesha! Who would have thought 1864he could have found so rare a fault in the speech.
Iʼll alter it, if it please your grace.
No, ʼtis very well.
Father, I must begin again. They interrupt me so.
I beseech your grace, give the boy leave to begin again.
With all my heart. ʼTis so good we cannot hear 1870it too oft.
Fair ladies most tender,
14.131And nobles most slender,
14.134With her fife and her drum,
14.136Here is Fortune good,
14.137But ill by the rood,
14.139Dealing the lots
14.141And so good Fortune to you, sir.
Look you, my liege, how he that carries the torch 1878trembles extremely.
I warrant ʼtis with care to carry his torch well.
Nay, there is something else in the wind. Why, my 1881host, what means thy man Jaques to tremble so?
Hold still, thou knave. What, art thou afraid to look 1883upon the goodly presence of a king? Hold up, for shame.
[Aside] Alas, poor man, he thinks ʼtis Jaques his man. Poor 1885lord, how much is he bound to suffer for his wife?
Hark you, mine host, what goodly person is that? 1887Is it Fortune herself?
Iʼll tell your majesty in secret who it is: it is my 1889maid, Jaquena.
I promise you she becomes her state rarely.
Well, my liege, you were all content that I should 1892make your posies. Well, here they be, every one. Give 1893Master Verone his five crowns.
Thereʼs mine and the Queenʼs.
Thereʼs ours.
And there is mine and Martiaʼs.
Come, Labesha, thy money.
You must lend me some, for my boy is run away 1899with my purse.
Thy boy? I never knew any that thou hadst.
Had not I a boy three or four years ago, and he 1902ran away?
And never since he went thou hadst not a penny? 1904But stand by, Iʼll excuse you. But, sirrah Catalian, thou shalt 1905stand on one side and read the prizes, and I will stand on 1906the other and read the posies.
Content, Lemot.
Come on, Queen Fortune, tell every man his 1909posy. This is orderly, the King and Queen are first.
Come, let us see what goodly posies you have 1911given us.
This is your majestyʼs: ‘At the fairest, so it be not 1913Martiaʼ.
A plague upon you, you are still playing the 1915villainʼs with me.
This is the Queenʼs: ‘Obey the Queenʼ, an she 1917speaks it to her husband, or to Fortune, which she will.
A prize. Your majestyʼs is the sum of four 1919shillings in gold.
Why, how can that be? There is no such coin.
[Offering gold] Here is the worth of it, if it please your Grace.
Well, whatʼs for me?
A heart of gold.
A goodly jewel.
Count Labervele and Florila.
Whatʼs my posy, sir, I pray?
Marry, this, my Lord:
A very good one, sir. I thank you for it.
Whatʼs mine I pray?
Marry this, madam:
Who bit your finger, wife?
Nobody, ʼtis vain posy.
Blank for my Lord Labervele; for his wife a posy, 1938a pair of holy beads with a crucifix.
O bomination idol! Iʼll none of them.
Keep them thyself, Verone, she will not have them.
Dowsecer and Martia. I have fitted your lordship 1942for a posy.
Why, what is it?
Ante omnia una.
And what is mine, sir?
A serious one, I warrant you: ‘Change for the betterʼ.
Thatʼs not amiss.
A prize! Dowsecer hath a caduceus, or Mercuryʼs rod 1949of gold, set with jacinths and emeralds.
What is for Martia?
Martia hath the two serpentsʼ heads set with 1952diamonds.
What my host Verone?
What, is he in for his own jewels?
Oh, what else, my liege. ʼTis our bounty, and his posy is:
What, Queen Fortune with child! Shall we have 1959young fortunes, my host?
I am abused, an if it please your majesty.
Iʼll play no more.
No, faith, you need not now, you have played your 1963bellyful already.
Stand still, good Jaquena, they do but jest.
14.205.1[Enter Jaques.]
Come, great Queen Fortune, let see your posies. [To the Countess] 1967What, madam, alas, your ladyship is one of the last.
What is my posy, sir, I pray?
Marry, madam, your posy is made in manner and 1970form of an echo, as if you were seeking your husband, 1971and Fortune should be the echo, and this you say: ‘Where is 1972my husband hid so long unmasked?ʼ ‘Maskedʼ, says the echo. 1973‘But in what place, sweet Fortune? Let me hearʼ. ‘Hereʼ, says 1974the echo.
There you lie, echo, for if he were here we must 1976needs see him.
Indeed, sweet King, there methinks the echo 1978must needs lie. If he were here, we must needs see him. 1979ʼTis one of them that carries the torches. No, that cannot be 1980neither, and yet, by the mass, hereʼs Jaques. Why, my host, did 1981not you tell me that Jaques should be a torchbearer? Who 1982is this? [Revealing Moren] Godʼs my life, my lord!
[Trying to leave] An you be gentlemen, let me go.
Nay, come your way, you may be well enough 1985ashamed to show your face that is a perjured wretch. Did 1986not you swear, if there were any wenches at the ordinary, 1987you would straight come home?
Why, who told you, madam, there were any 1989there?
He that will stand to it: Lemot, my liege.
Who? I stand to it? Alas, I told you in kindness 1992and good will, because I would not have you company 1993long from your husband.
Why, lo you, bird, how much you are deceived.
Why, wherefore were you afraid to be seen?
Who? I afraid? Alas, I bore a torch to grace this 1997honourable presence. For nothing else, sweet bird.
Thanks, good Moren. See, lady, with what wrong
14.223And overjoys more my senses at the night.
14.227Home to my court, where with feasts we will crown
14.228.1[Exeunt.]