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.

4.1.12[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!

4.1.16Wear 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

4.1.191656That serpents who creep low belch ranker poison

4.1.201657Than wingèd dragons do that fly aloft.

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.

O sweet Mattheo, peace. Upon my knees

4.1.271670I do beseech you, sir, not to arraign me

4.1.281671For sins which heaven, I hope, long since hath pardoned.

4.1.291672Those flames, like lightning flashes, are so spent

4.1.301673The heat no more remains than, where ships went

4.1.311674Or where birds cut the air, the print remains.

Pox on him! Kneel to a dog?

Pox on him! Kneel to a dog? She thatʼs a whore

4.1.331677Lives gallant, fares well, is not, like me, poor.

4.1.341678I haʼ now as small acquaintance with that sin

4.1.351679As if I had never known it, that never been.

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;

4.1.381685Knaves are thy chapmen, and thy shop is hell.

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!

4.1.73.1Is this your comfort, when so many years

4.1.741748You haʼ left me frozen to death?

You haʼ left me frozen to death? Freeze still, starve still!

Yes, so I shall. I must. I must and will.

4.1.761751If, as you say, Iʼm poor, relieve me then;

4.1.771752Let me not sell my body to base men.

4.1.781753You call me strumpet. Heaven knows I am none;

4.1.791754Your cruelty may drive me to be one.

4.1.801755Let not that sin be yours, let not the shame

4.1.811756Of ‘common whoreʼ live longer than my name.

4.1.821757That cunning bawd, Necessity, night and day

4.1.831758Plots to undo me; drive that hag away,

4.1.841759Lest being at lowest ebb, as now I am,

4.1.851760I sink for ever.

I sink for ever. Lowest ebb? What ebb?

So poor that, though to tell it be my shame,

4.1.871763I am not worth a dish to hold my meat.

4.1.881764I am yet poorer: I want bread to eat.

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;

4.1.981776And when thou begst Iʼll feed thee at my door,

4.1.991777As I feed dogs, with bones. Till then beg, 1778borrow,

4.1.100Pawn, steal, and hang. Turn bawd, 1779when thouʼrt no whore.

4.1.101[Aside] My heart-strings sure 1780would crack, were they strained more.

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.

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?

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.

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?

What will you do, sir?

Beat out the brains of a beggarly –

Beat out an assʼs head of your own. – Away, mistress!

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.

Thouʼrt at the shipwreck now, and like a swimmer

4.1.1391864Bold but unexpert with those waves dost play

4.1.1401865Whose dalliance, whorelike, is to cast thee away.

4.1.1411867[Aside] And hereʼs another vessel, better fraught,

4.1.1421868But as ill-manned. Her sinking will be wrought

4.1.1431869If rescue come not. Like a man-of-war

4.1.1441870Iʼll therefore bravely out. Somewhat Iʼll do,

4.1.1451871And either save them both or perish too.

It is my fate to be bewitchèd by those eyes.

Fate? Your folly.

4.1.1481874Why should my face thus mad you? ʼLas, those colours

4.1.1491875Are wound up long ago which beauty spread;

4.1.1501876The flowʼrs that once grew here are witherèd,

4.1.1511877You turned my black soul white, made it look new;

4.1.1521878And, should I sin, it neʼer should be with you.

Your hand; Iʼll offer you fair play. When first

4.1.1541880We met iʼthʼ lists together, you remember,

4.1.1551881You were a common rebel. With one parley

4.1.1561882I won you to come in.

I won you to come in. You did.

I won you to come in. You did. Iʼll try

4.1.1571885If now I can beat down this chastity

4.1.1581886With the same ordnance. Will you yield this fort

4.1.1591887If with the power of argument now, as then,

4.1.1601888I get of you the conquest? As before

4.1.1611889I turned you honest, now to turn you whore,

4.1.1621890By force of strong persuasion?

By force of strong persuasion? If you can,

4.1.1631892I yield.

I yield. The alarmʼs struck up; Iʼm your man.

A woman gives defiance.

A woman gives defiance. Sit.

A woman gives defiance. Sit. Begin.

4.1.1651897ʼTis a brave battle to encounter sin.

You men that are to fight in the same war

4.1.1671899To which Iʼm pressed, and plead at the same bar

4.1.1681900To win a woman, if you would have me speed,

4.1.1691901Send all your wishes.

Send all your wishes. No doubt youʼre heard. Proceed.

To be a harlot, that you stand upon,

4.1.1711904The very nameʼs a charm to make you one.

4.1.1721905Harlot was a dame of so divine

4.1.1731906And ravishing touch that she was concubine

4.1.1741907To an English king. Her sweet bewitching eye

4.1.1751908Did the kingʼs heart-strings in such love-knots tie

4.1.1761909That even the coyest was proud when she could hear

4.1.1771910Men say ‘Behold, another Harlot thereʼ;

4.1.1781911And after her all women that were fair

4.1.1791912Were Harlots called, as to this day some are.

4.1.1801913Besides, her dalliance she so well does mix

4.1.1811914That sheʼs in Latin called the meretrix.

4.1.1821915Thus for the name. For the profession, this:

4.1.1831916Who lives in bondage, lives laced. The chief bliss

4.1.1841917This world below can yield is liberty,

4.1.1851918And who than whores with looser wings dare fly?

4.1.1861919As Junoʼs proud bird spreads the fairest tail,

4.1.1871920So does a strumpet hoist the loftiest sail.

4.1.1881921Sheʼs no manʼs slave; men are her slaves. Her eye

4.1.1891922Moves not on wheels screwed up with jealousy.

4.1.1901923She, horsed or coached, does merry journeys make,

4.1.1911924Free as the sun in his gilt zodiac;

4.1.1921925As bravely does she shine, as fast sheʼs driven,

4.1.1931926But stays not long in any house of heaven,

4.1.1941927But shifts from sign to sign, her amorous prizes

4.1.1951928More rich being when sheʼs down than when she rises.

4.1.1961929In brief, gentlemen haunt them, soldiers fight for them;

4.1.1971930Few men but know them, few or none abhor them.

4.1.1981931Thus for sportʼs sake speak I as to a woman

4.1.1991932Whom, as the worst ground, I would turn to common;

4.1.2001933But you I would enclose for mine own bed.

So should a husband be dishonourèd.

Dishonoured? Not a whit. To fall to one,

4.1.2031936Besides your husband, is to fall to none,

4.1.2041937For one no number is.

For one no number is. Faith, should you take

4.1.2051939One in your bed, would you that reckoning make?

4.1.2061940ʼTis time you sound retreat.

ʼTis time you sound retreat. Say, have I won?

4.1.2071942Is the day ours?

Is the day ours? The battleʼs but half done.

4.1.2081944None but yourself have yet sounded alarms;

4.1.2091945Let us strike too, else you dishonour arms.

If you can win the day, 1947the gloryʼs yours.

To prove a woman should not be a whore,

4.1.2121949When she was made she had one man and no more.

4.1.2131950Yet she was tied to laws then, for even then,

4.1.2141951ʼTis said, she was not made for men, but man.

4.1.2151952Anon, tʼincrease earthʼs brood, the law was varied:

4.1.2161953Men should take many wives; and though they married

4.1.2171954According to that act, yet ʼtis not known

4.1.2181955But that those wives were only tied to one.

4.1.2191956New parliaments were since; for now one woman

4.1.2201957Is shared between three hundred. Nay, sheʼs common,

4.1.2211958Common as spotted leopards, whom for sport

4.1.2221959Men hunt to get the flesh, but care not forʼt.

4.1.2231960So spread they nets of gold, and tune their calls,

4.1.2241961To enchant silly women to take falls,

4.1.2251962Swearing they are angels, which that they may win

4.1.2261963Theyʼll hire the devil to come with false dice in.

4.1.2271964O Sirensʼ subtle tunes! Yourselves you flatter

4.1.2281965And our weak sex betray. So men love water;

4.1.2291966It serves to wash their hands, but being once foul

4.1.2301967The water down is poured, cast out of doors.

4.1.2311968And even of such base use do men make whores.

4.1.2321969A harlot, like a hen, more sweetness reaps

4.1.2331970To pick men one by one up than in heaps;

4.1.2341971Yet all feeds but confounding. Say you should taste me:

4.1.2351972I serve but for the time, and when the day

4.1.2361973Of war is done, am cashiered out of pay.

4.1.2371974If like lame soldiers I could beg, thatʼs all,

4.1.2381975And thereʼs lustʼs rendezvous – an hospital.

4.1.2391976Who then would be a manʼs slave, a manʼs woman?

4.1.2401977Sheʼs half starved the first day that feeds in common.

You should not feed so, but with me alone.

If I drink poison by stealth, isʼt not all one?

4.1.2431980Isʼt not rank poison still? With you alone!

4.1.2441981Nay, say you spied a courtesan whose soft side

4.1.2451982To touch youʼd sell your birthright, for one kiss

4.1.2461983Be racked. Sheʼs won, youʼre sated. What follows this?

4.1.2471984O, then you curse that bawd that tolled you in,

4.1.2481985The night; you curse your lust, you loathe the sin,

4.1.2491986You loathe her very sight; and ere the day

4.1.2501987Arise you rise, glad when youʼre stolʼn away.

4.1.2511988Even then when you are drunk with all her sweets

4.1.2521989Thereʼs no true pleasure in a strumpetʼs sheets.

4.1.2531990Women whom lust so prostitutes to sale,

4.1.2541991Like dancers upon ropes, once seen, are stale.

If all the threads of harlotsʼ lives are spun

4.1.2561993So coarse as you would make them, tell me why

4.1.2571994You so long loved the trade.

You so long loved the trade. If all the threads

4.1.2581996Of harlotsʼ lives be fine as you would make them,

4.1.2591997Why do not you persuade your wife turn whore,

4.1.2601998And all dames else to fall before that sin?

4.1.2611999Like an ill husband, though I knew the same

4.1.2622000To be my undoing, followed I that game.

4.1.2632001O, when the work of lust had earned my bread,

4.1.2642002To taste it how I trembled, lest each bit

4.1.2652003Ere it went down should choke me chewing it!

4.1.2662004My bed seemed like a cabin hung in hell,

4.1.2672005The bawd hellʼs porter, and the lickerish wine

4.1.2682006The pander fetched was like an easy fine,

4.1.2692007For which, methought, I leased away my soul;

4.1.2702008And oftentimes, even in my quaffing bowl,

4.1.2712009Thus said I to myself: ‘I am a whore,

4.1.2722010And have drunk down thus much confusion more.ʼ

It is a common rule, and ʼtis most true,

4.1.2742012Two of one trade never love; no more do you.

4.1.2752013Why are you sharp ʼgainst that you once professed?

Why dote you on that which you did once detest?

4.1.2772015I cannot, seeing sheʼs woven of such bad stuff,

4.1.2782016Set colours on a harlot base enough.

4.1.2792017Nothing did make me, when I loved them best,

4.1.2802018To loathe them more than this: when in the street

4.1.2812019A fair young modest damsel I did meet,

4.1.2822020She seemed to all a dove when I passed by,

4.1.2832021And I to all a raven. Every eye

4.1.2842022That followed her went with a bashful glance;

4.1.2852023At me each bold and jeering countenance

4.1.2862024Darted forth scorn. To her as if she had been

4.1.2872025Some tower unvanquished would they vail;

4.1.2882026ʼGainst me swolʼn rumour hoisted every sail.

4.1.2892027She, crowned with reverend praises, passed by them;

4.1.2902028I, though with face masked, could not ʼscape the ‘hemʼ.

4.1.2912029For – as if heaven had set strange marks on whores

4.1.2922030Because they should be pointing-stocks to men –

4.1.2932031Dress up in civilest shape a courtesan,

4.1.2942032Let her walk saint-like, noteless, and unknown,

4.1.2952033Yet sheʼs betrayed by some trick of her own.

4.1.2962034Were harlots therefore wise, theyʼd be sold dear,

4.1.2972035For men account them good but for one year,

4.1.2982036And then like almanacs whose dates are gone

4.1.2992037They are thrown by and no more looked upon.

4.1.3002038Whoʼll therefore backward fall, who will launch forth

4.1.3012039In seas so foul, for ventures no more worth?

4.1.3022040Lustʼs voyage hath, if not this course, this cross:

4.1.3032041Buy neʼer so cheap, your ware comes home with loss.

4.1.3042042What, shall I sound retreat? The battleʼs done;

4.1.3052043Let the world judge which of us two have won.

I!

I! You? Nay, then, as cowards do in fight,

4.1.3072046What by blows cannot, shall be saved by flight.

Fly to earthʼs fixèd centre, to the caves

4.1.3092048Of everlasting horror, Iʼll pursue thee,

4.1.3102049Though loaden with sins, even to hellʼs brazen doors.

4.1.3112050Thus wisest men turn fools, doting on whores.