But an especial one belongs to you, sir,
To whose most noble name our love presents
Th' addition of a son, our son Alonzo.
ALON. The treasury of honour cannot bring forth
A title I should more rejoice in, sir.
VER. You have improv’d it well.—Daughter, prepare;
The day will steal upon thee suddenly.
BEAT. Howe’er, I will be sure to keep the night,
If it should come so near me. [_Aside._
[BEATRICE _and_ VERMANDERO _talk apart_.
TOM. Alonzo.
ALON. Brother?
TOM. In troth I see small welcome in her eye.
ALON. Fie, you are too severe a censurer
Of love in all points, there’s no bringing on you;
If lovers should mark every thing a fault,
Affection would be like an ill-set book,
Whose faults might prove as big as half the volume.
BEAT. That’s all I do intreat.
VER. It is but reasonable;
I'll see what my son says to’t.—Son Alonzo,
Here is a motion made but to reprieve
A maidenhead three days longer; the request
Is not far out of reason, for indeed
The former time is pinching.
ALON. Though my joys
Be set back so much time as I could wish
They had been forward, yet since she desires it,
The time is set as pleasing as before,
I find no gladness wanting.
VER. May I ever
Meet it in that point still! you’re nobly welcome, sirs.
[_Exit with_ BEATRICE.
TOM. So; did you mark the dulness of her parting now?
ALON. What dulness? thou art so exceptious still!
TOM. Why, let it go then; I am but a fool
To mark your harms so heedfully.
ALON. Where’s the oversight?
TOM. Come, your faith’s cozen’d in her, strongly
cozen’d:
Unsettle your affection with all speed
Wisdom can bring it to; your peace is ruin’d else.
Think what a torment ’tis to marry one
Whose heart is leap’d into another’s bosom:
If ever pleasure she receive from thee,
It comes not in thy name, or of thy gift;
She lies but with another in thine arms,
He the half-father unto all thy children
In the conception, if he get ’em not,
She helps[425] to get ’em for him; and how dangerous
And shameful her restraint may go in time to,
It is not to be thought on without sufferings.
ALON. You speak as if she lov’d some other, then.
TOM. Do you apprehend so slowly?
ALON. Nay, and[426] that
Be your fear only, I am safe enough:
Preserve your friendship and your counsel, brother,
For times of more distress; I should depart
An enemy, a dangerous, deadly one,
To any but thyself, that should but think
She knew the meaning of inconstancy,
Much less the use and practice: yet we’re friends;
Pray, let no more be urg’d; I can endure
Much, till I meet an injury to her,
Then I am not myself. Farewell, sweet brother;
How much we’re bound to heaven to depart lovingly!
[_Exit._
TOM. Why, here is love’s tame madness; thus a man
Quickly steals into his vexation. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_Another apartment in the castle._
_Enter_ DIAPHANTA _and_ ALSEMERO.
DIA. The place is my charge; you have kept your hour,
And the reward of a just meeting bless you!
I hear my lady coming: complete gentleman,
I dare not be too busy with my praises,
They’re dangerous things to deal with. [_Exit._
ALS. This goes well;
These women are the ladies' cabinets,
Things of most precious trust are lock’d into ’em.
_Enter_ BEATRICE.
BEAT. I have within mine eye all my desires:
Requests that holy prayers ascend heaven for,
And bring[427] ’em down to furnish our defects,
Come not more sweet to our necessities
Than thou unto my wishes.
ALS. We’re so like
In our expressions, lady, that unless I borrow
The same words, I shall never find their equals.
BEAT. How happy were this meeting, this embrace,
If it were free from envy! this poor kiss,
It has an enemy, a hateful one,
That wishes poison to’t: how well were I now,
If there were none such name known as Piracquo,
Nor no such tie as the command of parents!
I should be but too much bless’d.
ALS. One good service
Would strike off both your fears, and I'll go near’t
too,
Since you are so distress’d; remove the cause,
The command ceases; so there’s two fears blown out
With one and the same blast.
BEAT. Pray, let me find you, sir:
What might that service be, so strangely happy?
ALS. The honourablest piece about man, valour:
I'll send a challenge to Piracquo instantly.
BEAT. How? call you that extinguishing of fear,
When ’tis the only way to keep it flaming?
Are not you ventur’d in the action,
That’s all my joys and comforts? pray, no more, sir:
Say you prevail’d, you’re danger’s and not mine then;
The law would claim you from me, or obscurity
Be made the grave to bury you alive.
I'm glad these thoughts come forth; O, keep not one
Of this condition,[428] sir! here was a course
Found to bring sorrow on her way to death;
The tears would ne’er ha' dried, till dust had chok’d
’em.
Blood-guiltiness becomes a fouler visage;—
And now I think on one; I was to blame,
I ha' marr’d so good a market with my scorn;
'Thad been done questionless: the ugliest creature
Creation fram’d for some use; yet to see
I could not mark so much where it should be! [_Aside._
ALS. Lady——
BEAT. Why, men of art make much of poison,
Keep one to expel another; where was my art? [_Aside._
ALS. Lady, you hear not me.
BEAT. I do especially, sir;
The present times are not so sure of our side
As those hereafter may be; we must use ’em then
As thrifty folks their wealth, sparingly now,
Till the time opens.
ALS. You teach wisdom, lady.
BEAT. Within there! Diaphanta!
_Re-enter_ DIAPHANTA.
DIA. Do you call, madam?
BEAT. Perfect your service, and conduct this gentleman
The private way you brought him.
DIA. I shall, madam.
ALS. My love’s as firm as love e’er built upon.
[_Exit with_ DIAPHANTA.
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
DE F. I've watch’d this meeting, and do wonder much
What shall become of t’other; I'm sure both
Cannot be serv’d unless she transgress; haply
Then I'll put in for one; for if a woman
Fly from one point, from him she makes a husband,
She spreads and mounts then like arithmetic;
One, ten, a hundred, a thousand, ten thousand,
Proves in time sutler to an army royal.
Now do I look to be most richly rail’d at,
Yet I must see her. [_Aside._
BEAT. Why, put case I loath’d him
As much as youth and beauty hates a sepulchre,
Must I needs shew it? cannot I keep that secret,
And serve my turn upon him? See, he’s here.— [_Aside._
De Flores.
DE F. Ha, I shall run mad with joy!
She call’d me fairly by my name De Flores,
And neither rogue nor rascal. [_Aside._
BEAT. What ha' you done
To your face a' late? you’ve met with some good
physician;
You’ve prun’d yourself,[429] methinks: you were not wont
To look so amorously.[430]
DE F. Not I;—
’Tis the same physnomy, to a hair and pimple,
Which she call’d scurvy scarce an hour ago:
How is this? [_Aside._
BEAT. Come hither; nearer, man.
DE F. I'm up to the chin in heaven! [_Aside._
BEAT. Turn, let me see;
Faugh, ’tis but the heat of the liver, I perceive’t;
I thought it had been worse.
DE F. Her fingers touch’d me!
She smells all amber.[431] [_Aside._
BEAT. I'll make a water for you shall cleanse this
Within a fortnight.
DE F. With your own hands, lady?
BEAT. Yes, mine own [hands],[432] sir; in a work of
cure
I'll trust no other.
DE F. ’Tis half an act of pleasure
To hear her talk thus to me. [_Aside._
BEAT. When we’re us’d
To a hard face, it is not so unpleasing;
It mends still in opinion, hourly mends;
I see it by experience.
DE F. I was bless’d
To light upon this minute; I'll make use on’t.
[_Aside._
BEAT. Hardness becomes the visage of a man well;
It argues service, resolution, manhood,
If cause were of employment.
DE F. ’Twould be soon seen,
If e’er your ladyship had cause to use it;
I would but wish the honour of a service
So happy as that mounts to.
BEAT. We shall try you:[433]
O my De Flores!
DE F. How’s that? she calls me hers;
Already, _my_ De Flores! [_Aside._]—You were about
To sigh out somewhat, madam?
BEAT. No, was I?
I forgot,—O!—
DE F. There ’tis again, the very fellow on’t.
BEAT. You are too quick, sir.
DE F. There’s no excuse[434] for’t now, I heard it
twice, madam;
That sigh would fain have utterance; take pity on’t,
And lend it a free word; ’las, how it labours
For liberty! I hear the murmur yet
Beat at your bosom.
BEAT. Would creation——
DE F. Ay, well said, that is it.
BEAT. Had form’d me man!
DE F. Nay, that’s not it.
BEAT. O, ’tis the soul of freedom!
I should not then be forc’d to marry one
I hate beyond all depths; I should have power
Then to oppose my loathings, nay, remove ’em
For ever from my sight.
DE F. O bless’d occasion! 9[_Aside._
Without change to your sex you have your wishes;
Claim so much man in me.
BEAT. In thee, De Flores?
There is small cause for that.
DE F. Put it not from me,
It is a service that I kneel for to you. [_Kneels._
BEAT. You are too violent to mean faithfully:
There’s horror in my service, blood, and danger;
Can those be things to sue for?
DE F. If you knew
How sweet it were to me to be employ’d
In any act of yours, you would say then
I fail’d, and us’d not reverence enough
When I receiv'[d] the charge on’t.
BEAT. This is much, methinks;
Belike his wants are greedy; and to such
Gold tastes like angel’s food. [_Aside._]—[De
Flores,][435] rise.
DE F. I'll have the work first.
BEAT. Possible his need
Is strong upon him. [_Aside._]—There’s to encourage
thee; [_Gives money._
As thou art forward, and thy service dangerous,
Thy reward shall be precious.
DE F. That I've thought on;
I have assur’d myself of that beforehand,
And know it will be precious; the thought ravishes!
BEAT. Then take him to thy fury!
DE F. I thirst for him.
BEAT. Alonzo de Piracquo.
DE F. [_rising_] His end’s upon him;
He shall be seen no more.
BEAT. How lovely now
Dost thou appear to me! never was man
Dearlier rewarded.
DE F. I do think of that.
BEAT. Be wondrous careful in the execution.
DE F. Why, are not both our lives upon the cast?
BEAT. Then I throw all my fears upon thy service.
DE F. They ne’er shall rise to hurt you.
BEAT. When the deed’s done,
I'll furnish thee with all things for thy flight;
Thou may’st live bravely in another country.
DE F. Ay, ay; we’ll talk of that hereafter.
BEAT. I shall rid myself
Of two inveterate loathings at one time,
Piracquo, and his dog-face. [_Aside, and exit._
DE F. O my blood!
Methinks I feel her in mine arms already;
Her wanton fingers combing out this beard,
And, being pleasèd, praising this bad face.
Hunger and pleasure, they’ll commend sometimes
Slovenly dishes, and feed heartily on ’em,
Nay, which is stranger, refuse daintier for ’em.
Some women are odd feeders,—I'm too loud.
Here comes the man goes supperless to bed,
Yet shall not rise to-morrow to his dinner.
_Enter_ ALONZO.
ALON. De Flores.
DE F. My kind, honourable lord?
ALON. I'm glad I ha' met with thee.
DE F. Sir?
ALON. Thou canst shew me
The full strength of the castle?
DE F. That I can, sir.
ALON. I much desire it.
DE F. And if the ways and straits
Of some of the passages be not too tedious for you,
I'll assure you, worth your time and sight, my lord.
ALON. Pooh, that shall be no hindrance.
DE F. I'm your servant then:
’Tis now near dinner-time; ’gainst your lordship’s
rising
I'll have the keys about me.
ALON. Thanks, kind De Flores.
DE F. He’s safely thrust upon me beyond hopes.
[_Aside._
[_Exeunt severally._
ACT III. SCENE I.
_A narrow passage in the castle._
_Enter_ ALONZO _and_ DE FLORES. (_In the act-time_[436]
DE FLORES _hides a naked rapier behind a door_.
DE F. Yes, here are all the keys; I was afraid, my
lord,
I'd wanted for the postern, this is it:
I've all, I've all, my lord: this for the sconce.
ALON. ’Tis a most spacious and impregnable fort.
DE F. You will tell me more, my lord: this descent
Is somewhat narrow, we shall never pass
Well with our weapons, they’ll but trouble us.
ALON. Thou sayest true.
DE F. Pray, let me help your lordship.
ALON. ’Tis done: thanks, kind De Flores.
DE F. Here are hooks, my lord,
To hang such things on purpose.
[_Hanging up his own sword and that of_ ALONZO.
ALON. Lead, I'll follow thee. [_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_A vault._[437]
_Enter_ ALONZO _and_ DE FLORES.
DE F. All this is nothing; you shall see anon
A place you little dream on.
ALON. I am glad
I have this leisure; all your master’s house
Imagine I ha' taken a gondola.
DE F. All but myself, sir,—which makes up my safety.
[_Aside._
My lord, I'll place you at a casement here
Will shew you the full strength of all the castle.
Look, spend your eye a while upon that object.
ALON. Here’s rich variety, De Flores.
DE F. Yes, sir.
ALON. Goodly munition.
DE F. Ay, there’s ordnance, sir,
No bastard metal, will ring you a peal like bells
At great men’s funerals: keep your eye straight, my
lord;
Take special notice of that sconce before you,
There you may dwell awhile.
[_Takes the rapier which he had hid behind the door._
ALON. I am upon’t.
DE F. And so am I. [_Stabs him._
ALON. De Flores! O De Flores!
Whose malice hast thou put on?
DE F. Do you question
A work of secrecy? I must silence you. [_Stabs him._
ALON. O, O, O!
DE F. I must silence you. [_Stabs him._
So, here’s an undertaking well accomplish’d:
This vault serves to good use now: ha, what’s that
Threw sparkles in my eye? O, ’tis a diamond
He wears upon his finger; ’twas well found,
This will approve[438] the work. What, so fast on?
Not part in death? I'll take a speedy course then,
Finger and all shall off. [_Cuts off the finger._] So,
now I'll clear
The passages from all suspect or fear.
[_Exit with the body._
SCENE III.
_An apartment in the house of_ ALIBIUS.
_Enter_ ISABELLA _and_ LOLLIO.
ISA. Why, sirrah, whence have you commission
To fetter the doors against me? if you
Keep me in a cage, pray, whistle to me,
Let me be doing something.
LOL. You shall be doing, if it please you; I'll whistle
to you, if you’ll pipe after.
ISA. Is it your master’s pleasure, or your own,
To keep me in this pinfold?
LOL. ’Tis for my master’s pleasure, lest being taken in
another man’s corn, you might be pounded in another
place.
ISA. ’Tis very well, and he’ll prove very wise.
LOL. He says you have company enough in the house, if
you please to be sociable, of all sorts of people.
ISA. Of all sorts? why, here’s none but fools and
madmen.
LOL. Very well: and where will you find any other, if
you should go abroad? there’s my master, and I to boot
too.
ISA. Of either sort one, a madman and a fool.
LOL. I would even participate of both then if I were as
you; I know you’re half mad already, be half foolish
too.
ISA. You’re a brave saucy rascal! come on, sir,
Afford me then the pleasure of your bedlam;
You were commending once to-day to me
Your last-come lunatic; what a proper[439]
Body there was without brains to guide it,
And what a pitiful delight appear’d
In that defect, as if your wisdom had found
A mirth in madness; pray, sir, let me partake,
If there be such a pleasure.
LOL. If I do not shew you the handsomest, discreetest
madman, one that I may call the understanding madman,
then say I am a fool.
ISA. Well, a match, I will say so.
LOL. When you have [had] a taste of the madman, you
shall, if you please, see Fools' College, o' th' [other]
side; I seldom lock there; ’tis but shooting a bolt or
two, and you are amongst ’em. [_Exit, and brings in_
FRANCISCUS.]—Come on, sir; let me see how handsomely
you’ll behave yourself now.
FRAN. How sweetly she looks! O, but there’s a wrinkle in
her brow as deep as philosophy. Anacreon, drink to my
mistress' health, I'll pledge it; stay, stay, there’s a
spider in the cup! no, ’tis but a grape-stone; swallow
it, fear nothing, poet; so, so, lift higher.
ISA. Alack, alack, it is too full of pity
To be laugh’d at! how fell he mad? canst thou tell?
LOL. For love, mistress: he was a pretty poet too, and
that set him forwards first: the Muses then forsook him;
he ran mad for a chambermaid, yet she was but a dwarf
neither.
FRAN. Hail, bright Titania!
Why stand’st thou idle on these flowery banks?
Oberon is dancing with his Dryades;
I'll gather daisies, primrose, violets,
And bind them in a verse of poesy.
LOL. [_holding up a whip_] Not too near! you see your
danger.
FRAN. O, hold thy hand, great Diomede!
Thou feed’st thy horses well, they shall obey thee:
Get up, Bucephalus kneels. [_Kneels._
LOL. You see how I awe my flock; a shepherd has not his
dog at more obedience.
ISA. His conscience is unquiet; sure that was
The cause of this: a proper[440] gentleman!
FRAN. Come hither, Æsculapius; hide the poison.
LOL. Well, ’tis hid. [_Hides the whip._
FRAN. Didst thou ne’er hear of one Tiresias,
A famous prophet?[441]
LOL. Yes, that kept tame wild geese.
FRAN. That’s he; I am the man.
LOL. No?
FRAN. Yes; but make no words on’t; I was a man
Seven years ago.
LOL. A stripling, I think, you might.
FRAN. Now I'm a woman, all feminine.
LOL. I would I might see that!
FRAN. Juno struck me blind.
LOL. I'll ne’er believe that; for a woman, they say, has
an eye more than a man.
FRAN. I say she struck me blind.
LOL. And Luna made you mad; you have two trades to beg
with.
FRAN. Luna is now big-bellied, and there’s room
For both of us to ride with Hecate;
I'll drag thee up into her silver sphere,
And there we’ll beat the bush, and kick the dog[442]
That barks against the witches of the night;
The swift lycanthropi[443] that walk[444] the round,
We’ll tear their wolvish skins, and save the sheep.
[_Attempts to seize_ LOLLIO.
LOL. Is’t come to this? nay, then, my poison comes forth
again [_shewing the whip_]: mad slave, indeed, abuse
your keeper!
ISA. I prithee, hence with him, now he grows
dangerous.
FRAN. [_sings_]
_Sweet love, pity me,
Give me leave to lie with thee._
LOL. No, I'll see you wiser first: to your own kennel!
FRAN. No noise, she sleeps; draw all the curtains
round,
Let no soft sound molest the pretty soul,
But love, and love creeps in at a mouse-hole.
LOL. I would you would get into your hole! [_Exit_
FRANCISCUS.]—Now, mistress, I will bring you another
sort; you shall be fooled another while. [_Exit, and
brings in_ ANTONIO.]—Tony, come hither, Tony: look who’s
yonder, Tony.
ANT. Cousin, is it not my aunt?
LOL. Yes, ’tis one of ’em,[445] Tony.
ANT. He, he! how do you, uncle?
LOL. Fear him not, mistress, ’tis a gentle nigget;[446]
you may play with him, as safely with him as with his
bauble.[447]
ISA. How long hast thou been a fool?
ANT. Ever since I came hither, cousin.
ISA. Cousin? I'm none of thy cousins, fool.
LOL. O, mistress, fools have always so much wit as to
claim their kindred.
MADMAN [_within_]. Bounce, bounce! he falls, he falls!
ISA. Hark you, your scholars in the upper room
Are out of order.
LOL. Must I come amongst you there?—Keep you the fool,
mistress; I'll go up and play left-handed Orlando
amongst the madmen. [_Exit._
ISA. Well, sir.
ANT. ’Tis opportuneful now, sweet lady! nay,
Cast no amazing eye upon this change.
ISA. Ha!
ANT. This shape of folly shrouds your dearest love,
The truest servant to your powerful beauties,
Whose magic had this force thus to transform me.
ISA. You’re a fine fool indeed!
ANT. O, ’tis not strange!
Love has an intellect that runs through all
The scrutinous sciences, and, like a cunning poet,
Catches a quantity of every knowledge,
Yet brings all home into one mystery,
Into one secret, that he proceeds in.
ISA. You’re a parlous[448] fool.
ANT. No danger in me; I bring nought but love
And his soft-wounding shafts to strike you with:
Try but one arrow; if it hurt you, I
Will stand you twenty back in recompense.
ISA. A forward fool too!
ANT. This was love’s teaching:
A thousand ways he[449] fashion’d out my way,
And this I found the safest and [the] nearest,
To tread the galaxia to my star.
ISA. Profound withal! certain you dream’d of this,
Love never taught it waking.
ANT. Take no acquaintance
Of these outward follies, there’s within
A gentleman that loves you.
ISA. When I see him,
I'll speak with him; so, in the meantime, keep
Your habit, it becomes you well enough:
As you’re a gentleman, I'll not discover you;
That’s all the favour that you must expect:
When you are weary, you may leave the school,
For all this while you have but play’d the fool.
_Re-enter_ LOLLIO.
ANT. And must again.—He, he! I thank you, cousin;
I'll be your valentine to-morrow morning.
LOL. How do you like the fool, mistress?
ISA. Passing well, sir.
LOL. Is he not witty, pretty well, for a fool?
ISA. If he hold on as he begins, he’s like
To come to something.
LOL. Ay, thank a good tutor: you may put him to’t; he
begins to answer pretty hard questions.—Tony, how many
is five times six?
ANT. Five times six is six times five.
LOL. What arithmetician could have answered better? How
many is one hundred and seven?
ANT. One hundred and seven is seven hundred and one,
cousin.
LOL. This is no wit to speak on!—Will you be rid of the
fool now?
ISA. By no means; let him stay a little.
MADMAN [_within_]. Catch there, catch the last couple in
hell![450]
LOL. Again! must I come amongst you? Would my master
were come home! I am not able to govern both these wards
together. [_Exit._
ANT. Why should a minute of love’s hour be lost?
ISA. Fie, out again! I had rather you kept
Your other posture; you become not your tongue
When you speak from your clothes.
ANT. How can he freeze
Lives near so sweet a warmth? shall I alone
Walk through the orchard of th' Hesperides,
And, cowardly, not dare to pull an apple?
_Enter_ LOLLIO _above_.
This with the red cheeks I must venture for.
[_Attempts to kiss her._
ISA. Take heed, there’s giants keep ’em.
LOL. How now, fool, are you good at that? have
you read Lipsius?[451] he’s past _Ars Amandi_; I believe
I must put harder questions to him, I perceive
that. [_Aside._
ISA. You’re bold without fear too.
ANT. What should I fear,
Having all joys about me? Do you smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again;
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold mine own deformity,
And dress myself up fairer: I know this shape
Becomes me not, but in those bright mirrors
I shall array me handsomely.
[_Cries of madmen are heard within, like those
of birds and beasts._
LOL. Cuckoo, cuckoo! [_Exit above._
ANT. What are these?
ISA. Of fear enough to part us;
Yet are they but our schools of lunatics,
That act their fantasies in any shapes
Suiting their present thoughts: if sad, they cry;
If mirth be their conceit, they laugh again:
Sometimes they imitate the beasts and birds,
Singing or howling, braying, barking; all
As their wild fancies prompt ’em.
ANT. These are no fears.
ISA. But here’s a large one, my man.
_Re-enter_ LOLLIO.
ANT. Ha, he! that’s fine sport indeed, cousin.
LOL. I would my master were come home! ’tis too much for
one shepherd to govern two of these flocks; nor can I
believe that one churchman can instruct two benefices at
once; there will be some incurable mad of the one side,
and very fools on the other.—Come, Tony.
ANT. Prithee, cousin, let me stay here still.
LOL. No, you must to your book now; you have played
sufficiently.
ISA. Your fool is grown wondrous witty.
LOL. Well, I'll say nothing; but I do not think but he
will put you down one of these days.
[_Exit with_ ANTONIO.
ISA. Here the restrainèd current might make breach,
Spite of the watchful bankers: would a woman stray,
She need not gad abroad to seek her sin,
It would be brought home one way[452] or other:
The needle’s point will to the fixèd north;
Such drawing arctics women’s beauties are.
_Re-enter_ LOLLIO.
LOL. How dost thou, sweet rogue?
ISA. How now?
LOL. Come, there are degrees; one fool may be better
than another.
ISA. What’s the matter?
LOL. Nay, if thou givest thy mind to fool’s flesh, have
at thee!
ISA. You bold slave, you!
LOL. I could follow now as t’other fool did:
_What should I fear,
Having all joys about me? Do you but smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again;
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold my own deformity,
And dress myself up fairer: I know this shape
Becomes me not_—
and so as it follows: but is not this the more foolish
way? Come, sweet rogue; kiss me, my little Lacedæmonian;
let me feel how thy pulses beat; thou hast a thing about
thee would do a man pleasure, I'll lay my hand on’t.
ISA. Sirrah, no more! I see you have discover’d
This love’s knight errant, who hath made adventure
For purchase of my love; be silent, mute,
Mute as a statue,[453] or his injunction
For me enjoying, shall be to cut thy throat;
I'll do it, though for no other purpose; and
Be sure he’ll not refuse it.
LOL. My share, that’s all;
I'll have my fool’s part with you.
ISA. No more! your master.
_Enter_ ALIBIUS.
ALIB. Sweet, how dost thou?
ISA. Your bounden servant, sir.
ALIB. Fie, fie, sweetheart,
No more of that.
ISA. You were best lock me up.
ALIB. In my arms and bosom, my sweet Isabella,
I'll lock thee up most nearly.—Lollio,
We have employment, we have task in hand:
At noble Vermandero’s, our castle['s] captain,
There is a nuptial to be solemniz’d—
Beatrice-Joanna, his fair daughter, bride—
For which the gentleman hath bespoke our pains,
A mixture of our madmen and our fools,
To finish, as it were, and make the fag
Of all the revels, the third night from the first;
Only an unexpected passage over,
To make a frightful pleasure, that is all,
But not the all I aim at; could we so act it,
To teach it in a wild distracted measure,
Though out of form and figure, breaking time’s head,
It were no matter, ’twould be heal’d again
In one age or other, if not in this:
This, this, Lollio, there’s a good reward begun,
And will beget a bounty, be it known.
LOL. This is easy, sir, I'll warrant you: you have about
you fools and madmen that can dance very well; and ’tis
no wonder, your best dancers are not the wisest men; the
reason is, with often jumping they jolt their brains
down into their feet, that their wits lie more in their
heels than in their heads.
ALIB. Honest Lollio, thou giv’st me a good reason,
And a comfort in it.
ISA. You’ve a fine trade on’t;
Madmen and fools are a staple commodity.
ALIB. O wife, we must eat, wear clothes, and live:
Just at the lawyer’s haven we arrive,
By madmen and by fools we both do thrive. [_Exeunt._
SCENE IV.
_An apartment in the castle._
_Enter_ VERMANDERO, BEATRICE, ALSEMERO, _and_ JASPERINO.
VER. Valencia speaks so nobly of you, sir,
I wish I had a daughter now for you.
ALS. The fellow of this creature were a partner
For a king’s love.
VER. I had her fellow once, sir,
But heaven has married her to joys eternal;
'Twere sin to wish her in this vale again.
Come, sir, your friend and you shall see the pleasures
Which my health chiefly joys in.
ALS. I hear
The beauty of this seat largely [commended].
VER. It falls much short of that.
[_Exit with_ ALSEMERO _and_ JASPERINO.
BEAT. So, here’s one step
Into my father’s favour; time will fix him;
I've got him now the liberty of the house;
So wisdom, by degrees, works out her freedom:
And if that eye be darken’d that offends me,—
I wait but that eclipse,—this gentleman
Shall soon shine glorious in my father’s liking,
Through the refulgent virtue of my love.
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
DE F. My thoughts are at a banquet; for the deed,
I feel no weight in’t; ’tis but light and cheap
For the sweet recompense that I set down for’t.
[_Aside._
BEAT. De Flores!
DE F. Lady?
BEAT. Thy looks promise cheerfully.
DE F. All things are answerable, time, circumstance,
Your wishes, and my service.
BEAT. Is it done, then?
DE F. Piracquo is no more.
BEAT. My joys start at mine eyes; our sweet’st
delights
Are evermore born weeping.
DE F. I've a token for you.
BEAT. For me?
DE F. But it was sent somewhat unwillingly;
I could not get the ring without the finger.
[_Producing the ring._[454]
BEAT. Bless me, what hast thou done?
DE F. Why, is that more
Than killing the whole man? I cut his heart-strings:
A greedy hand thrust in a dish at court,
In a mistake hath had as much as this.
BEAT. ’Tis the first token my father made me send him.
DE F. And I [have] made him send it back again
For his last token; I was loath to leave it,
And I'm sure dead men have no use of jewels;
He was as loath to part with’t, for it stuck
As if the flesh and it were both one substance.
BEAT. At the stag’s fall, the keeper has his fees;
’Tis soon applied, all dead men’s fees are yours, sir:
I pray, bury the finger, but the stone
You may make use on shortly; the true value,
Take’t of my truth, is near three hundred ducats.
DE F. ’Twill hardly buy a capcase for one’s conscience
though,
To keep it from the worm, as fine as ’tis:
Well, being my fees, I'll take it;
Great men have taught me that, or else my merit
Would scorn the way on’t.
BEAT. It might justly, sir;
Why, thou mistak’st, De Flores, ’tis not given
In state of recompense.
DE F. No, I hope so, lady;
You should soon witness my contempt to’t then.
BEAT. Prithee—thou look’st as if thou wert offended.
DE F. That were strange, lady; ’tis not possible
My service should draw such a cause from you:
Offended! could you think so? that were much
For one of my performance, and so warm
Yet in my service.
BEAT. ’Twere misery in me to give you cause, sir.
DE F. I know so much, it were so; misery
In her most sharp condition.
BEAT. ’Tis resolv’d then;
Look you, sir, here’s three thousand golden
florens;[455]
I have not meanly thought upon thy merit.
DE F. What! salary? now you move me.
BEAT. How, De Flores?
DE F. Do you place me in the rank of verminous
fellows,
To destroy things for wages? offer gold
[For] the life-blood of man? is any thing
Valued too precious for my recompense?
BEAT. I understand thee not.
DE F. I could ha' hir’d
A journeyman in murder at this rate,
And mine own conscience might have [slept at ease],[456]
And have had the work brought home.
BEAT. I'm in a labyrinth;
What will content him? I'd fain be rid of him.
[_Aside._
I'll double the sum, sir.
DE F. You take a course
To double my vexation, that’s the good you do.
BEAT. Bless me, I'm now in worse plight than I was;
I know not what will please him. [_Aside._]—For my
fear’s sake,
I prithee, make away with all speed possible;
And if thou be’st so modest not to name
The sum that will content thee, paper blushes not,
Send thy demand in writing, it shall follow thee;
But, prithee, take thy flight.
DE F. You must fly too then.
BEAT. I?
DE F. I'll not stir a foot else.
BEAT. What’s your meaning?
DE F. Why, are not you as guilty? in, I'm sure,
As deep as I; and we should stick together:
Come, your fears counsel you but ill; my absence
Would draw suspect upon you instantly,
There were no rescue for you.
BEAT. He speaks home! [_Aside._
DE F. Nor is it fit we two, engag’d so jointly,
Should part and live asunder.
BEAT. How now, sir?
This shews not well.
DE F. What makes your lip so strange?
This must not be betwixt us.
BEAT. The man talks wildly!
DE F. Come, kiss me with a zeal now.
BEAT. Heaven, I doubt him! [_Aside._
DE F. I will not stand so long to beg ’em shortly.
BEAT. Take heed, De Flores, of forgetfulness,
'Twill soon betray us.
DE F. Take you heed first;
Faith, you’re grown much forgetful, you’re to blame
in’t.
BEAT. He’s bold, and I am blam’d for’t. [_Aside._
DE F. I have eas’d you
Of your trouble, think on it; I am in pain,
And must be eas’d of you; ’tis a charity,
Justice invites your blood to understand me.
BEAT. I dare not.
DE F. Quickly!
BEAT. O, I never shall!
Speak it yet further off, that I may lose
What has been spoken, and no sound remain on’t;
I would not hear so much offence again
For such another deed.
DE F. Soft, lady, soft!
The last is not yet paid for: O, this act
Has put me into spirit; I was as greedy on’t
As the parch’d earth of moisture, when the clouds weep:
Did you not mark, I wrought myself into ’t,
Nay, sued and kneel’d for’t? why was all that pains
took?
You see I've thrown contempt upon your gold;
Not that I want it [not], for I do piteously,
In order I'll come unto ’t, and make use on’t,
But ’twas not held so precious to begin with,
For I place wealth after the heels of pleasure;
And were I not resolv’d in my belief
That thy virginity were perfect in thee,
I should but take my recompense with grudging,
As if I had but half my hopes I agreed for.
BEAT. Why, ’tis impossible thou canst be so wicked,
Or shelter such a cunning cruelty,
To make his death the murderer of my honour!
Thy language is so bold and vicious,
I cannot see which way I can forgive it
With any modesty.
DE F. Push![457] you forget yourself;
A woman dipp’d in blood, and talk of modesty!
BEAT. O misery of sin! would I'd been bound
Perpetually unto my living hate
In that Piracquo, than to hear these words!
Think but upon the distance that creation
Set ’twixt thy blood and mine, and keep thee there.
DE F. Look but into your conscience, read me there,
’Tis a true book, you’ll find me there your equal:
Push![457] fly not to your birth, but settle you
In what the act has made you, you’re no more now;
You must forget your parentage to me;
You are the deed’s creature; by that name
You lost your first condition, and I challenge you,
As peace and innocency have[458] turn’d you out,
And made you one with me.
BEAT. With thee, foul villain!
DE F. Yes, my fair murderess; do you urge me?
Though thou writ’st maid, thou whore in thy affection!
’Twas chang’d from thy first love, and that’s a kind
Of whoredom in the[459] heart; and he’s chang’d now
To bring thy second on, thy Alsemero,
Whom, by all sweets that ever darkness tasted,
If I enjoy thee not, thou ne’er enjoyest!
I'll blast the hopes and joys of marriage,
I'll confess all; my life I rate at nothing.
BEAT. De Flores!
DE F. I shall rest from all love’s[460] plagues then;
I live in pain now; that shooting eye
Will burn my heart to cinders.
BEAT. O sir, hear me!
DE F. She that in life and love refuses me,
In death and shame my partner she shall be.
BEAT. [_kneeling_] Stay, hear me once for all; I make
thee master
Of all the wealth I have in gold and jewels;
Let me go poor unto my bed with honour,
And I am rich in all things!
DE F. Let this silence thee;
The wealth of all Valencia shall not buy
My pleasure from me;
Can you weep Fate from its determin’d purpose?
So soon may [you] weep me.
BEAT. Vengeance begins;
Murder, I see, is follow’d by more sins:
Was my creation in the womb so curst,
It must engender with a viper first?
DE F. [_raising her_] Come, rise and shroud your
blushes in my bosom;
Silence is one of pleasure’s best receipts:
Thy peace is wrought for ever in this yielding.
'Las, how the turtle pants! thou’lt love anon
What thou so fear’st and faint’st to venture on.
[_Exeunt._
ACT IV.
_Dumb Show._[461]
_Enter Gentlemen_, VERMANDERO _meeting them with action
of wonderment at the disappearance of_ PIRACQUO.
_Enter_ ALSEMERO, _with_ JASPERINO _and gallants_:
VERMANDERO _points to him, the gentlemen seeming to
applaud the choice_. ALSEMERO, VERMANDERO, JASPERINO,
_and the others, pass over the stage with much pomp_,
BEATRICE _as bride following in great state, attended
by_ DIAPHANTA, ISABELLA, _and other gentlewomen_; DE
FLORES _after all, smiling at the accident_:[462]
ALONZO’S _ghost appears to him in the midst of his
smile, and startles him, shewing the hand whose finger
he had cut off_.
SCENE I.
ALSEMERO’S _apartment in the castle_.
_Enter_ BEATRICE.
BEAT. This fellow has undone me endlessly;
Never was bride so fearfully distress’d:
The more I think upon th' ensuing night,
And whom I am to cope with in embraces,
One who’s[463] ennobled both in blood and mind,
So clear in understanding,—that’s my plague now,—
Before whose judgment will my fault appear
Like malefactors' crimes before tribunals;
There is no hiding on’t, the more I dive
Into my own distress: how a wise man
Stands for a great calamity! there’s no venturing
Into his bed, what course soe’er I light upon,
Without my shame, which may grow up to danger;
He cannot but in justice strangle me
As I lie by him, as a cheater use me;
’Tis a precious craft to play with a false die
Before a cunning gamester. Here’s his closet;
The key left in’t, and he abroad i' th' park?
Sure ’twas forgot; I'll be so bold as look in’t.
[_Opens closet._
Bless me! a right physician’s closet ’tis,
Set round with vials; every one her mark too:
Sure he does practise physic for his own use,
Which may be safely call’d your great man’s wisdom.
What manuscript lies here?
[_reads_] _The Book of Experiment, called Secrets in
Nature_:[464]
So ’tis, ’tis so;
[_reads_] _How to know whether a woman be with child or
no_:
I hope I am not yet; if he should try though!
Let me see, [_reads_] _folio forty-five_, here ’tis,
The leaf tuck’d down upon’t, the place suspicious:
[_reads_] _If you would know whether a woman be with
child or not, give her two spoonfuls of the white water
in glass C_—
Where’s that glass C? O yonder, I see’t now—
[_reads_] _and if she be with child, she sleeps full
twelve hours after; if not, not_:
None of that water comes into my belly;
I'll know you from a hundred; I could break you now,
Or turn you into milk, and so beguile
The master of the mystery; but I'll look to you.
Ha! that which is next is ten times worse:
[_reads_] _How to know whether a woman be a maid or
not_:
If that should be applied, what would become of me?
Belike he has a strong faith of my purity,
That never yet made proof; but this he calls
[_reads_] _A merry slight,[465] but true experiment;
the author Antonius Mizaldus. Give the party you suspect
the quantity of a spoonful of the water in the glass M,
which, upon her that is a maid, makes three several
effects; twill make her incontinently[466] gape, then
fall into a sudden sneezing, last into a violent
laughing; else, dull, heavy, and lumpish._
Where had I been?
I fear it, yet ’tis seven hours to bed-time.
_Enter_ DIAPHANTA.
DIA. Cuds, madam, are you here?
BEAT. Seeing that wench now,
A trick comes in my mind; ’tis a nice piece
Gold cannot purchase. [_Aside._]—I come hither, wench,
To look my lord.
DIA. Would I had such a cause
To look him too! [_Aside._]—Why, he’s i' th' park,
madam.
BEAT. There let him be.
DIA. Ay, madam, let him compass
Whole parks and forests, as great rangers do,
At roosting-time a little lodge can hold ’em:
Earth-conquering Alexander, that thought the world
Too narrow for him, in th' end had but his pit-hole.
BEAT. I fear thou art not modest, Diaphanta.
DIA. Your thoughts are so unwilling to be known,
madam!
’Tis ever the bride’s fashion, towards bed-time,
To set light by her joys, as if she ow’d ’em not.[467]
BEAT. Her joys? her fears thou wouldst say.
DIA. Fear of what?
BEAT. Art thou a maid, and talk’st so to a maid?
You leave a blushing business behind;
Beshrew your heart for’t!
DIA. Do you mean good sooth, madam?
BEAT. Well, if I'd thought upon the fear at first,
Man should have been unknown.
DIA. Is’t possible?
BEAT. I'd[468] give a thousand ducats to that woman
Would try what my fear were, and tell me true
To-morrow, when she gets from’t; as she likes,
I might perhaps be drawn to’t.
DIA. Are you in earnest?
BEAT. Do you get the woman, then challenge me,
And see if I'll fly from’t; but I must tell you
This by the way, she must be a true maid,
Else there’s no trial, my fears are not her’s else.
DIA. Nay, she that I would put into your hands, madam,
Shall be a maid.
BEAT. You know I should be sham’d else,
Because she lies for me.
DIA. ’Tis a strange humour!
But are you serious still? would you resign
Your first night’s pleasure, and give money too?
BEAT. As willingly as live.—Alas, the gold
Is but a by-bet to wedge in the honour! [_Aside._
DIA. I do not know how the world goes abroad
For faith or honesty; there’s both requir’d in this.
Madam, what say you to me, and stray no further;
I've a good mind, in troth, to earn your money.
BEAT. You are too quick, I fear, to be a maid.
DIA. How? not a maid? nay, then you urge me, madam;
Your honourable self is not a truer,
With all your fears upon you——
BEAT. Bad enough then. [_Aside._
DIA. Than I with all my lightsome joys about me.
BEAT. I'm glad to hear’t; then you dare put your
honesty
Upon an easy trial.
DIA. Easy? any thing.
BEAT. I'll come to you straight.
[_Goes to the closet._
DIA. She will not search me, will she,
Like the forewoman of a female jury?
BEAT. Glass M: ay, this is it. [_Brings vial._]— Look,
Diaphanta,
You take no worse than I do. [_Drinks._
DIA. And in so doing,
I will not question what it is, but take it.
[_Drinks._
BEAT. Now if th' experiment be true, ’twill praise
itself,
And give me noble ease: begins already;
[DIAPHANTA _gapes_.
There’s the first symptom; and what haste it makes
To fall into the second, there by this time!
[DIAPHANTA _sneezes_.
Most admirable secret! on the contrary,
It stirs not me a whit, which most concerns it.
[_Aside._
DIA. Ha, ha, ha!
BEAT. Just in all things, and in order
As if ’twere circumscrib’d; one accident
Gives way unto another. [_Aside._
DIA. Ha, ha, ha!
BEAT. How now, wench?
DIA. Ha, ha, ha! I'm so, so light
At heart—ha, ha, ha!—so pleasurable!
But one swig more, sweet madam.
BEAT. Ay, to-morrow,
We shall have time to sit by’t.
DIA. Now I'm sad again.
Beat. It lays itself so gently too! [_Aside._]—Come,
wench,
Most honest Diaphanta I dare call thee now.
DIA. Pray, tell me, madam, what trick call you this?
BEAT. I'll tell thee all hereafter; we must study
The carriage of this business.
DIA. I shall carry’t well,
Because I love the burthen.
BEAT. About midnight
You must not fail to steal forth gently,
That I may use the place.
DIA. O, fear not, madam,
I shall be cool by that time: the bride’s place,
And with a thousand ducats! I'm for a justice now,
I bring a portion with me; I scorn small fools.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE II.
_Another apartment in the castle._
_Enter_ VERMANDERO _and Servant_.
VER. I tell thee, knave, mine honour is in question,
A thing till now free from suspicion,
Nor ever was there cause. Who of my gentlemen
Are absent?
Tell me, and truly, how many, and who?
SER. Antonio, sir, and Franciscus.
VER. When did they leave the castle?
SER. Some ten days since, sir; the one intending to
Briamata,[469] th' other for Valencia.
VER. The time accuses ’em; a charge of murder
Is brought within my castle-gate, Piracquo’s murder;
I dare not answer faithfully their absence:
A strict command of apprehension
Shall pursue ’em suddenly, and either wipe
The stain off clear, or openly discover it.
Provide me wingèd warrants for the purpose.
[_Exit Servant._
See, I am set on again.
_Enter_ TOMASO.
TOM. I claim a brother of you.
VER. You’re too hot;
Seek him not here.
TOM. Yes, ’mongst your dearest bloods,
If my peace find no fairer satisfaction:
This is the place must yield account for him,
For here I left him; and the hasty tie
Of this snatch’d marriage gives strong testimony
Of his most certain ruin.
VER. Certain falsehood!
This is the place indeed; his breach of faith
Has too much marr’d both my abusèd love,
The honourable love I reserv’d for him,
And mock’d my daughter’s joy; the prepar’d morning
Blush’d at his infidelity; he left
Contempt and scorn to throw upon those friends
Whose belief hurt ’em: O, ’twas most ignoble
To take his flight so unexpectedly,
And throw such public wrongs on those that lov’d him!
TOM. Then this is all your answer?s
VER. ’Tis too fair
For one of his alliance; and I warn you
That this place no more see you. [_Exit._
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
TOM. The best is,
There is more ground to meet a man’s revenge on.—
Honest De Flores?
DE F. That’s my name, indeed.
Saw you the bride? good sweet sir, which way took she?
TOM. I've bless’d mine eyes from seeing such a false
one.
DE F. I'd fain get off, this man’s not for my company,
I smell his brother’s blood when I come near him.
[_Aside._
TOM. Come hither, kind and true one; I remember
My brother lov’d thee well.
DE F. O, purely, dear sir!—
Methinks I'm now again a-killing on him,
He brings it so fresh to me. [_Aside._
TOM. Thou canst guess, sirrah—
An[470] honest friend has an instinct of jealousy—
At some foul guilty person.
DE F. Alas, sir,
I am so charitable, I think none
Worse than myself! you did not see the bride then?
TOM. I prithee, name her not: is she not wicked?
DE F. No, no; a pretty, easy, round-pack’d[471]
sinner,
As your most ladies are, else you might think
I flatter’d her; but, sir, at no hand wicked,
Till they’re so old their sins and vices[472] meet,
And they salute witches. I'm call’d, I think, sir.—
His company even overlays my conscience.
[_Aside, and exit._
TOM. That De Flores has a wondrous honest heart;
He’ll bring it out in time, I'm assur’d on’t.
O, here’s the glorious master of the day’s joy!
'Twill[473] not be long till he and I do reckon.
_Enter_ ALSEMERO.
Sir.
ALS. You’re most welcome.
TOM. You may call that word back,
I do not think I am, nor wish to be.
ALS. ’Tis strange you found the way to this house
then.
TOM. Would I'd ne’er known the cause! I'm none of
those, sir,
That come to give you joy, and swill your wine;
’Tis a more precious liquor that must lay
The fiery thirst I bring.
ALS. Your words and you
Appear to me great strangers.
TOM. Time and our swords
May make us more acquainted; this the business.
I should have [had] a brother in your place;
How treachery and malice have dispos’d of him,
I'm bound to inquire of him which holds his right,
Which never could come fairly.
ALS. You must look
To answer for that word, sir.
TOM. Fear you not,
I'll have it ready drawn at our next meeting.
Keep your day solemn; farewell, I disturb it not;
I'll bear the smart with patience for a time. [_Exit._
ALS. ’Tis somewhat ominous this; a quarrel enter’d
Upon this day; my innocence relieves me,
_Enter_ JASPERINO.
I should be wondrous sad else.—Jasperino,
I've news to tell thee, strange news.
JASP. I ha' some too,
I think as strange as yours: would I might keep
Mine, so my faith and friendship might be kept in’t!
Faith, sir, dispense a little with my zeal,
And let it cool in this.
ALS. This puts me on,
And blames thee for thy slowness.
JAS. All may prove nothing,
Only a friendly fear that leapt from me, sir.
ALS. No question, ’t may prove nothing; let’s partake
it though.
JAS. ’Twas Diaphanta’s chance—for to that wench
I pretend[474] honest love, and she deserves it—
To leave me in a back part of the house,
A place we chose for private conference;
She was no sooner gone, but instantly
I heard your bride’s voice in the next room to me;
And lending more attention, found De Flores
Louder than she.
ALS. De Flores! thou art out now.
JAS. You’ll tell me more anon.
ALS. Still I'll prevent[475] thee,
The very sight of him is poison to her.
JAS. That made me stagger too; but Diaphanta
At her return confirm’d it.
ALS. Diaphanta!
JAS. Then fell we both to listen, and words pass’d
Like those that challenge interest in a woman.
ALS. Peace; quench thy zeal, ’tis dangerous to thy
bosom.
JAS. Then truth is full of peril.
ALS. Such truths are.
O, were she the sole glory of the earth,
Had eyes that could shoot fire into kings' breasts,
And touch’d,[476] she sleeps not here! yet I have time,
Though night be near, to be resolv’d[477] hereof;
And, prithee, do not weigh me by my passions.
JAS. I never weigh’d friend so.
ALS. Done charitably!
That key will lead thee to a pretty secret,
[_Giving key._
By a Chaldean taught me, and I have
My study upon some: bring from my closet
A glass inscrib’d there with the letter M,
And question not my purpose.
JAS. It shall be done, sir. [_Exit._
ALS. How can this hang together? not an hour since
Her woman came pleading her lady’s fears,
Deliver’d her for the most timorous virgin
That ever shrunk at man’s name, and so modest,
She charg’d her weep out her request to me,
That she might come obscurely to my bosom.
_Enter_ BEATRICE.
BEAT. All things go well; my woman’s preparing yonder
For her sweet voyage, which grieves me to lose;
Necessity compels it; I lose all else. [_Aside._
ALS. Push![478] modesty’s shrine is set in yonder
forehead:
I cannot be too sure though. [_Aside._]—My Joanna!
BEAT. Sir, I was bold to weep a message to you;
Pardon my modest fears.
ALS. The dove’s not meeker;
She’s abus’d, questionless. [_Aside._
_Re-enter_ JASPERINO _with vial_.
O, are you come, sir?
BEAT. The glass, upon my life! I see the letter.
[_Aside._
JAS. Sir, this is M. [_Giving vial._
ALS. ’Tis it.
BEAT. I am suspected. [_Aside._
ALS. How fitly our bride comes to partake with us!
BEAT. What is’t, my lord?
ALS. No hurt.
BEAT. Sir, pardon me,
I seldom taste of any composition.
ALS. But this, upon my warrant, you shall venture on.
BEAT. I fear ’twill make me ill.
ALS. Heaven forbid that!
BEAT. I'm put now to my cunning: th' effects I know,
If I can now but feign ’em handsomely.
[_Aside, then drinks._
ALS. It has that secret virtue, it ne’er miss’d, sir,
Upon a virgin.
JAS. Treble-qualitied?
[BEATRICE _gapes and sneezes_.
ALS. By all that’s virtuous, it takes there! proceeds!
JAS. This is the strangest trick to know a maid by.
BEAT. Ha, ha, ha!
You have given me joy of heart to drink, my lord.
ALS. No, thou hast given me such joy of heart,
That never can be blasted.
BEAT. What’s the matter, sir?
ALS. See, now ’tis settled in a melancholy;
Keep[s] both the time and method. [_Aside._]—My Joanna,
Chaste as the breath of heaven, or morning’s womb,
That brings the day forth! thus my love encloses thee.
[_Exeunt._
SCENE III.
_A room in the house of_ ALIBIUS.
_Enter_ ISABELLA _and_ LOLLIO.
ISA. O heaven! is this the waning[479] moon?
Does love turn fool, run mad, and all at once?
Sirrah, here’s a madman, a-kin to the fool too,
A lunatic lover.
LOL. No, no, not he I brought the letter from.
ISA. Compare his inside with his out, and tell me.
LOL. The out’s mad, I'm sure of that; I had a taste
on’t.
ISA. [_reads letter_] _To the bright[480] Andromeda,
chief chambermaid to the Knight of the Sun, at the
sign of Scorpio, in the middle region, sent by the
bellows-mender of Æolus. Pay the post._
LOL. This is stark madness!
ISA. Now mark the inside.
[_reads_] _Sweet lady, having now cast off this
counterfeit cover of a madman, I appear to your best
judgment a true and faithful lover of your beauty._
LOL. He is mad still!
ISA. [_reads_] _If any fault you find, chide those
perfections in you which have made me imperfect; ’tis
the same sun that causeth to grow and enforceth to
wither_——
LOL. O rogue!
ISA. [_reads_] _Shapes and transhapes, destroys and
builds again: I come in winter to you, dismantled of my
proper ornaments; by the sweet splendour of your
cheerful smiles, I spring and live a lover._
LOL. Mad rascal still!
ISA. [_reads_] _Tread him not under foot, that shall
appear an honour to your bounties. I remain—mad till I
speak with you, from whom I expect my cure, yours all,
or one beside himself_, FRANCISCUS.
LOL. You are like to have a fine time on’t; my master
and I may give over our professions; I do not think but
you can cure fools and madmen faster than we, with
little pains too.
ISA. Very likely.
LOL. One thing I must tell you, mistress; you perceive
that I am privy to your skill; if I find you minister
once, and set up the trade, I put in for my thirds; I
shall be mad or fool else.
ISA. The first place is thine, believe it, Lollio,
If I do fall.
LOL. I fall upon you.
ISA. So.
LOL. Well, I stand to my venture.
ISA. But thy counsel now; how shall I deal with ’em?
LOL. Why,[481] do you mean to deal with ’em?
ISA. Nay, the fair[482] understanding, how to use ’em.
LOL. Abuse ’em! that’s the way to mad the fool, and make
a fool of the madman, and then you use ’em kindly.
ISA. ’Tis easy, I'll practise; do thou observe it:
The key of thy wardrobe.
LOL. There [_gives key_]; fit yourself for ’em, and
I'll fit ’em both for you.
ISA. Take thou no further notice than the outside.
LOL. Not an inch [_Exit_ ISABELLA]; I'll put you to the
inside.
_Enter_ ALIBIUS.
ALIB. Lollio, art there? will all be perfect, think’st
thou?
To-morrow night, as if to close up the
Solemnity, Vermandero expects us.
LOL. I mistrust the madmen most; the fools will do well
enough, I have taken pains with them.
ALIB. Tush! they cannot miss; the more absurdity,
The more commends it, so no rough behaviours
Affright the ladies; they’re nice things, thou knowest.
LOL. You need not fear, sir; so long as we are there
with our commanding pizzles, they’ll be as tame as the
ladies themselves.
ALIB. I'll see them once more rehearse before they go.
LOL. I was about it, sir: look you to the madmen’s
morris, and let me alone with the other: there is one or
two that I mistrust their fooling; I'll instruct them,
and then they shall rehearse the whole measure.
ALIB. Do so; I'll see the music prepar’d: but, Lollio,
By the way, how does my wife brook her restraint?
Does she not grudge at it?
LOL. So, so; she takes some pleasure in the house, she
would abroad else; you must allow her a little more
length, she’s kept too short.
ALIB. She shall along to Vermandero’s with us,
That will serve her for a month’s liberty.
LOL. What’s that on your face, sir?
ALIB. Where, Lollio? I see nothing.
LOL. Cry you mercy, sir, ’tis your nose; it shewed like
the trunk of a young elephant.
ALIB. Away, rascal! I'll prepare the music, Lollio.
LOL. Do, sir, and I'll dance the whilst. [_Exit_
ALIBIUS.]—Tony, where art thou, Tony?
_Enter_ ANTONIO.
ANT. Here, cousin; where art thou?
LOL. Come, Tony, the footmanship I taught you.
ANT. I had rather ride, cousin.
Lol. Ay, a whip take you! but I'll keep you out; vault
in: look you, Tony; fa, la, la, la, la.
[_Dances._
ANT. Fa, la, la, la, la. [_Sings and dances._
LOL. There, an honour.
ANT. Is this an honour, coz?
LOL. Yes, and[483] it please your worship.
ANT. Does honour bend in the hams, coz?
LOL. Marry does it, as low as worship, squireship, nay,
yeomanry itself sometimes, from whence it first
stiffened: there rise, a caper.
ANT. Caper after an honour, coz?
LOL. Very proper, for honour is but a caper, rise[s] as
fast and high, has a knee or two, and falls to th'
ground again: you can remember your figure, Tony?
ANT. Yes, cousin; when I see thy figure, I can remember
mine. [_Exit_ LOLLIO.
_Re-enter_ ISABELLA, _dressed as a madwoman_.
ISA. Hey, how he[484] treads the air! shough, shough,
t’other way! he burns his wings else: here’s wax enough
below, Icarus, more than will be cancelled these
eighteen moons: he’s down, he’s down! what a terrible
fall he had!
Stand up, thou son of Cretan Dædalus,
And let us tread the lower labyrinth;
I'll bring thee to the clue.
ANT. Prithee, coz, let me alone.
ISA. Art thou not drown’d?
About thy head I saw a heap of clouds
Wrapt like a Turkish turbant; on thy back
A crook’d chameleon-colour’d rainbow hung
Like a tiara down unto thy hams:
Let me suck out those billows in thy belly;
Hark, how they roar and rumble in the straits![485]
Bless thee from the pirates!
ANT. Pox upon you, let me alone!
ISA. Why shouldst thou mount so high as Mercury,
Unless thou hadst reversion of his place?
Stay in the moon with me, Endymion,
And we will rule these wild rebellious waves,
That would have drown’d my love.
ANT. I'll kick thee, if
Again thou touch me, thou wild unshapen antic;
I am no fool, you bedlam!
ISA. But you are, as sure as I am mad:
Have I put on this habit of a frantic,
With love as full of fury, to beguile
The nimble eye of watchful jealousy,
And am I thus rewarded?
ANT. Ha! dearest beauty!
ISA. No, I have no beauty now,
Nor never had but what was in my garments:
You a quick-sighted lover! come not near me:
Keep your caparisons, you’re aptly clad;
I came a feigner, to return stark mad.
ANT. Stay, or I shall change condition,
And become as you are. [_Exit_ ISABELLA.
_Re-enter_ LOLLIO.
LOL. Why, Tony, whither now? why, fool——
ANT. Whose fool, usher of idiots? you coxcomb!
I have fool’d too much.
LOL. You were best be mad another while then.
ANT. So I am, stark mad; I have cause enough;
And I could throw the full effects on thee,
And beat thee like a fury.
LOL. Do not, do not; I shall not forbear the gentleman
under the fool, if you do: alas, I saw through your
fox-skin before now! Come, I can give you comfort, my
mistress loves you; and there is as arrant a madman i'
th' house as you are a fool, your rival, whom she loves
not: if after the masque we can rid her of him, you earn
her love, she says, and the fool shall ride her.
ANT. May I believe thee?
LOL. Yes, or you may choose whether you will or no.
ANT. She’s eas’d of him; I've a good quarrel on’t.
LOL. Well, keep your old station yet, and be quiet.
ANT. Tell her I will deserve her love. [_Exit._
LOL. And you are like to have your desire.[486]
_Enter_ FRANCISCUS.
FRAN. [_sings_] _Down, down, down a-down a-down_,
—and then with a horse-trick
To kick Latona’s forehead, and break her bow-string.
LOL. This is t’other counterfeit; I'll put him out of
his humour. [_Aside. Takes out a letter and reads_]
_Sweet lady, having now cast_ [_off_][487] _this
counterfeit cover of a madman, I appear to your best
judgment a true and faithful lover of your beauty._ This
is pretty well for a madman.
FRAN. Ha! what’s that?
LOL. [_reads_] _Chide those perfections in you which_
[_have_] _made me imperfect._
FRAN. I am discover’d to the fool.
LOL. I hope to discover the fool in you ere I have done
with you. [_Reads_] _Yours all, or one beside himself_,
FRANCISCUS. This madman will mend sure.
FRAN. What do you read, sirrah?
LOL. Your destiny, sir; you’ll be hanged for this trick,
and another that I know.
FRAN. Art thou of counsel with thy mistress?
LOL. Next her apron-strings.
FRAN. Give me thy hand.
LOL. Stay, let me put yours in my pocket first [_putting
letter into his pocket_]: your hand is true,[488] is it
not? it will not pick? I partly fear it, because I think
it does lie.
FRAN. Not in a syllable.
LOL. So; if you love my mistress so well as you have
handled the matter here, you are like to be cured of
your madness.
FRAN. And none but she can cure it.
LOL. Well, I'll give you over then, and she shall cast
your water next.
FRAN. Take for thy pains past. [_Gives him money._
LOL. I shall deserve more, sir, I hope: my mistress
loves you, but must have some proof of your love to her.
FRAN. There I meet my wishes.
LOL. That will not serve, you must meet her enemy and
yours.
FRAN. He’s dead already.
LOL. Will you tell me that, and I parted but now with
him?
FRAN. Shew me the man.
LOL. Ay, that’s a right course now; see him before you
kill him, in any case; and yet it needs not go so far
neither, ’tis but a fool that haunts the house and my
mistress in the shape of an idiot; bang but his fool’s
coat well-favouredly, and ’tis well.
FRAN. Soundly, soundly!
LOL. Only reserve him till the masque be past; and if
you find him not now in the dance yourself, I'll shew
you. In, in! my master! [_Dancing._
FRAN. He handles him like a feather. Hey! [_Exit._
_Enter_ ALIBIUS.
ALIB. Well said: in a readiness, Lollio?
LOL. Yes, sir.
ALIB. Away then, and guide them in, Lollio:
Entreat your mistress to see this sight.
Hark, is there not one incurable fool
That might be begg’d?[489] I have friends.
LOL. I have him for you,
One that shall deserve it too. [_Exit._
_Re-enter_ ISABELLA: _then re-enter_ LOLLIO _with the
madmen and fools, who dance._
ALIB. Good boy, Lollio!
’Tis perfect: well, fit but once these strains,
We shall have coin and credit for our pains.
[_Exeunt._
ACT V. SCENE I.
_A gallery in the castle._
_Enter_ BEATRICE: _a clock strikes one._
BEAT. One struck, and yet she lies by’t! O, my fears!
This strumpet serves her own ends, ’tis apparent now,
Devours the pleasure with a greedy appetite,
And never minds my honour or my peace,
Makes havoc of my right; but she pays dearly for’t;
No trusting of her life with such a secret,
That cannot rule her blood to keep her promise;
Beside, I've some suspicion of her faith to me,
Because I was suspected of my lord,
And it must come from her [_clock strikes two_]: hark!
by my horrors,
Another clock strikes two!
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
DE F. Pist![490] where are you?
BEAT. De Flores?
DE F. Ay: is she not come from him yet?
BEAT. As I'm a living soul, not!
DE F. Sure the devil
Hath sow’d his itch within her; who would trust
A waiting-woman?
BEAT. I must trust somebody.
DE F. Push![491] they’re termagants;
Especially when they fall upon their masters
And have their ladies' first-fruits; they’re mad whelps,
You cannot stave ’em off from game royal: then
You are so harsh[492] and hardy, ask no counsel;
And I could have help’d you to a ’pothecary’s daughter
Would have fall’n off before eleven, and thank['d] you
too.
BEAT. O me, not yet! this whore forgets herself.
DE F. The rascal fares so well: look, you’re undone;
The day-star, by this hand! see, Phosphorus plain
yonder.
BEAT. Advise me now to fall upon some ruin;
There is no counsel safe else.
DE F. Peace! I ha’t now,
For we must force a rising, there’s no remedy.
BEAT. How? take heed of that.
DE F. Tush! be you quiet, or else give over all.
BEAT. Prithee—I ha' done then.
DE F. This is my reach: I'll set
Some part a-fire of Diaphanta’s chamber.
BEAT. How? fire, sir? that may endanger the whole
house.
DE F. You talk of danger when your fame’s on fire?
BEAT. That’s true; do what thou wilt now.
DE F. Push! I aim
At a most rich success strikes all dead sure:
The chimney being a-fire, and some light parcels
Of the least danger in her chamber only,
If Diaphanta should be met by chance then
Far from her lodging, which is now suspicious,
It would be thought her fears and affrights then
Drove her to seek for succour; if not seen
Or met at all, as that’s the likeliest,
For her own shame she’ll hasten towards her lodging;
I will be ready with a piece high-charg’d,
As ’twere to cleanse the chimney, there ’tis proper now,
But she shall be the mark.
BEAT. I'm forc’d to love thee now,
'Cause thou provid’st so carefully for my honour.
DE F. ’Slid, it concerns the safety of us both,
Our pleasure and continuance.
BEAT. One word now, prithee;
How for the servants?
DE F. I will despatch them,
Some one way, some another in the hurry,
For buckets, hooks, ladders; fear not you,
The deed shall find its time; and I've thought since
Upon a safe conveyance for the body too:
How this fire purifies wit! watch you your minute.
BEAT. Fear keeps my soul upon’t, I cannot stray
from’t.
_Enter Ghost of_ ALONZO.
DE F. Ha! what art thou that tak’st away the light
Betwixt that star and me? I dread thee not:
’Twas but a mist of conscience; all’s clear again.
[_Exit._
BEAT. Who’s that, De Flores? bless me, it slides by!
[_Exit Ghost._
Some ill thing haunts the house; ’t has left behind it
A shivering sweat upon me; I'm afraid now:
This night hath been so tedious! O this strumpet!
Had she a thousand lives, he should not leave her
Till he had destroy’d the last. List! O my terrors!
[_Clock strikes three._
Three struck by St. Sebastian’s!
VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire!
BEAT. Already? how rare is that man’s speed!
How heartily he serves me! his face loathes one;
But look upon his care, who would not love him?
The east is not more beauteous than his service.
VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire!
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES: _Servants pass over the stage_.
DE F. Away, despatch! hooks, buckets, ladders! that’s
well said.
[_Bell rings within._
The fire-bell rings; the chimney works, my charge;
The piece is ready. [_Exit._
BEAT. Here’s a man worth loving!
_Enter_ DIAPHANTA.
O, you’re a jewel!
DIA. Pardon frailty, madam;
In troth, I was so well, I even forgot myself.
BEAT. You’ve made trim work!
DIA. What?
BEAT. Hie quickly to your chamber;
Your reward follows you.
DIA. I never made
So sweet a bargain. [_Exit._
_Enter_ ALSEMERO.
ALS. O, my dear Joanna,
Alas! art thou risen too? I was coming,
My absolute treasure!
BEAT. When I miss’d you,
I could not choose but follow.
ALS. Thou’rt all sweetness:
The fire is not so dangerous.
BEAT. Think you so, sir?
ALS. I prithee, tremble not; believe me, ’tis not.
_Enter_ VERMANDERO _and_ JASPERINO.
VER. O, bless my house and me!
ALS. My lord your father.
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES _with a gun_.
VER. Knave, whither goes that piece?
DE F. To scour the chimney.
VER. O, well said, well said! [_Exit_ DE FLORES.
That fellow’s good on all occasions.
BEAT. A wondrous necessary man, my lord.
VER. He hath a ready wit; he’s worth ’em all, sir;
Dog at a house of[493] fire; I ha' seen him sing’d ere
now.—
[_Gun fired off within._
Ha, there he goes!
BEAT. ’Tis done! [_Aside._
ALS. Come, sweet, to bed now;
Alas, thou wilt get cold!
BEAT. Alas, the fear keeps that out!
My heart will find no quiet till I hear
How Diaphanta, my poor woman, fares;
It is her chamber, sir, her lodging chamber.
VER. How should the fire come there?
BEAT. As good a soul as ever lady countenanc’d,
But in her chamber negligent and heavy:
She ’scap’d a mine twice.
VER. Twice?
BEAT. Strangely twice, sir.
VER. Those sleepy sluts are dangerous in a house,
And[494] they be ne’er so good.
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.
DE F. O, poor virginity,
Thou hast paid dearly for’t!
VER. Bless us, what’s that?
DE F. A thing you all knew once, Diaphanta’s burnt.
BEAT. My woman! O, my woman!
DE F. Now the flames
Are greedy of her; burnt, burnt, burnt to death, sir!
BEAT. O my presaging soul!
ALS. Not a tear more!
I charge you by the last embrace I gave you
In bed, before this rais’d us.
BEAT. Now you tie me;
Were it my sister, now she gets no more.
_Enter Servant._
VER. How now?
SER. All danger’s past; you may now take
Your rests, my lords; the fire is throughly quench’d:
Ah, poor gentlewoman, how soon was she stifled!
BEAT. De Flores, what is left of her inter,
And we as mourners all will follow her:
I will entreat that honour to my servant
Even of my lord himself.
ALS. Command it, sweetness.
BEAT. Which of you spied the fire first?
DE F. ’Twas I, madam.
BEAT. And took such pains in’t too? a double goodness!
'Twere well he were rewarded.
VER. He shall be.—
De Flores, call upon me.
ALS. And upon me, sir.
[_Exeunt all except_ DE FLORES.
DE F. Rewarded? precious! here’s a trick beyond me:
I see in all bouts, both of sport and wit,
Always a woman strives for the last hit. [_Exit._
SCENE II.
_Another apartment in the castle._
_Enter_ TOMASO.
TOM. I cannot taste the benefits of life
With the same relish I was wont to do:
Man I grow weary of, and hold his fellowship
A treacherous bloody friendship; and because
I'm ignorant in whom my wrath should settle,
I must think all men villains, and the next
I meet, whoe’er he be, the murderer
Of my most worthy brother. Ha! what’s he?
DE FLORES _passes over the stage_.
O, the fellow that some call honest De Flores;
But methinks honesty was hard bested
To come there for a lodging; as if a queen
Should make her palace of a pest-house:
I find a contrariety in nature
Betwixt that face and me; the least occasion
Would give me game upon him; yet he’s so foul
One would scarce touch [him] with a sword he lov’d
And made account of; so most deadly venomous,
He would go near to poison any weapon
That should draw blood on him; one must resolve
Never to use that sword again in fight
In way of honest manhood that strikes him;
Some river must devour it; ’twere not fit
That any man should find it. What, again?
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.
He walks a' purpose by, sure, to choke me up,
T' infect my blood.
DE F. My worthy noble lord!
TOM. Dost offer to come near and breathe upon me?
[_Strikes him._
DE F. A blow! [_Draws._
TOM. Yea, are you so prepar’d?
I'll rather like a soldier die by th' sword,
Than like a politician by thy poison. [_Draws._
DE F. Hold, my lord, as you are honourable!
TOM. All slaves that kill by poison are still cowards.
DE F. I cannot strike; I see his brother’s wounds
Fresh bleeding in his eye, as in a crystal.— [_Aside._
I will not question this, I know you’re noble;
I take my injury with thanks given, sir,
Like a wise lawyer, and as a favour
Will wear it for the worthy hand that gave it.—Why
this from him that yesterday appear’d
So strangely loving to me?
O, but instinct is of a subtler strain!
Guilt must not walk so near his lodge again;
He came near me now. [_Aside, and exit._
TOM. All league with mankind I renounce for ever,
Till I find this murderer; not so much
As common courtesy but I'll lock up;
For in the state of ignorance I live in,
A brother may salute his brother’s murderer,
And wish good speed to th' villain in a greeting.
_Enter_ VERMANDERO, ALIBIUS, _and_ ISABELLA.
VER. Noble Piracquo!
TOM. Pray, keep on your way, sir;
I've nothing to say to you.
VER. Comforts bless you, sir!
TOM. I've forsworn compliment, in troth, I have, sir;
As you are merely man, I have not left
A good wish for you, nor [for] any here.
VER. Unless you be so far in love with grief,
You will not part from’t upon any terms,
We bring that news will make a welcome for us.
TOM. What news can that be?
VER. Throw no scornful smile
Upon the zeal I bring you,’tis worth more, sir;
Two of the chiefest men I kept about me
I hide not from the law or your just vengeance.
TOM. Ha!
VER. To give your peace more ample satisfaction,
Thank these discoverers.
TOM. If you bring that calm,
Name but the manner I shall ask forgiveness in
For that contemptuous smile [I threw][495] upon you,
I'll perfect it with reverence that belongs
Unto a sacred altar. [_Kneels._
VER. [_raising him_] Good sir, rise;
Why, now you overdo as much ’a this hand
As you fell short ’a t’other.—Speak, Alibius.
ALIB. ’Twas my wife’s fortune, as she is most lucky
At a discovery, to find out lately,
Within our hospital of fools and madmen,
Two counterfeits slipp’d into these disguises,
Their names Franciscus and Antonio.
VER. Both mine, sir, and I ask no favour for ’em.
ALIB. Now that which draws suspicion to their habits,
The time of their disguisings agrees justly
With the day of the murder.
TOM. O blest revelation!
VER. Nay, more, nay, more, sir—I'll not spare mine own
In way of justice—they both feign’d a journey
To Briamata,[496] and so wrought out their leaves;
My love was so abus’d in’t.
TOM. Time’s too precious
To run in waste now; you have brought a peace
The riches of five kingdoms could not purchase:
Be my most happy conduct; I thirst for ’em:
Like subtle lightning will I wind about ’em,
And melt their marrow in ’em. [_Exeunt._
SCENE III.
ALSEMERO’S _apartment[497] in the castle_.
_Enter_ ALSEMERO _and_ JASPERINO.
JAS. Your confidence, I'm sure, is now of proof;
The prospect from the garden has shew’d[498]
Enough for deep suspicion.
ALS. The black mask
That so continually was worn upon’t
Condemns the face for ugly ere’t be seen,
Her despite to him, and so seeming bottomless.
JAS. Touch it home then; ’tis not a shallow probe
Can search this ulcer soundly; I fear you’ll find it
Full of corruption: ’tis fit I leave you,
She meets you opportunely from that walk;
She took the back door at his parting with her.
[_Exit._
ALS. Did my fate wait for this unhappy stroke
At my first sight of woman? She is here.
_Enter_ BEATRICE.
BEAT. Alsemero!
ALS. How do you?
BEAT. How do I?
Alas, how do you, [sir]? you look not well.
ALS. You read me well enough, I am not well.
BEAT. Not well, sir? is’t in my power to better you?
ALS. Yes.
BEAT. Nay, then you’re cur’d again.
ALS. Pray, resolve me one question, lady.
BEAT. If I can.
ALS. None can so sure: are you honest?
BEAT. Ha, ha, ha! that’s a broad question, my lord.
ALS. But that’s not a modest answer, my lady:
Do you laugh? my doubts are strong upon me.
BEAT.’Tis innocence that smiles, and no rough brow
Can take away the dimple in her cheek:
Say I should strain a tear to fill the vault,
Which would you give the better faith to?
ALS. ’Twere but hypocrisy of a sadder colour,
But the same stuff; neither your smiles nor tears
Shall move or flatter me from my belief:
You are a whore!
BEAT. What a horrid sound it hath!
It blasts a beauty to deformity;
Upon what face soever that breath falls,
It strikes it ugly: O, you have ruin’d
What you can ne’er repair again!
ALS. I'll all
Demolish, and seek out truth within you,
If there be any left; let your sweet tongue
Prevent your heart’s rifling; there I'll ransack
And tear out my suspicion.
BEAT. You may, sir;
It is an easy passage; yet, if you please,
Shew me the ground whereon you lost your love;
My spotless virtue may but tread on that
Before I perish.
ALS. Unanswerable;
A ground you cannot stand on; you fall down
Beneath all grace and goodness when you set
Your ticklish heel on it: there was a visor
Over that cunning face, and that became you;
Now impudence in triumph rides upon’t;
How comes this tender reconcilement else
'Twixt you and your despite, your rancorous loathing,
De Flores? he that your eye was sore at sight of,
He’s now become your arm’s supporter, your
Lip’s saint!
BEAT. Is there the cause?
ALS. Worse, your lust’s devil,
Your adultery!
BEAT. Would any but yourself say that,
'Twould turn him to a villain!
ALS. It was witness’d
By the counsel of your bosom, Diaphanta.
BEAT. Is your witness dead then?
ALS.’Tis to be fear’d
It was the wages of her knowledge; poor soul,
She liv’d not long after the discovery.
BEAT. Then hear a story of not much less horror
Than this your false suspicion is beguil’d with;
To your bed’s scandal I stand up innocence,
Which even the guilt of one black other deed
Will stand for proof of; your love has made me
A cruel murderess.
ALS. Ha!
BEAT. A bloody one;
I have kiss’d poison for it, strok’d a serpent:
That thing of hate, worthy in my esteem
Of no better employment, and him most worthy
To be so employ’d, I caus’d to murder
That innocent Piracquo, having no
Better means than that worst to assure
Yourself to me.
ALS. O, the place itself e’er since
Has crying been for vengeance! the temple,
Where blood and beauty first unlawfully
Fir’d their devotion and quench’d the right one;
’Twas in my fears at first, ’twill have it now:
O, thou art all deform’d!
BEAT. Forget not, sir,
It for your sake was done: shall greater dangers
Make the less welcome?
ALS. O, thou should’st have gone
A thousand leagues about to have avoided
This dangerous bridge of blood! here we are lost.
BEAT. Remember, I am true unto your bed.
ALS. The bed itself’s a charnel, the sheets shrouds
For murder’d carcasses. It must ask pause
What I must do in this; meantime you shall
Be my prisoner only: enter my closet;
[_Exit_ BEATRICE _into closet_.
I'll be your keeper yet. O, in what part
Of this sad story shall I first begin? Ha!
This same fellow has put me in.—
_Enter_ DE FLORES.
De Flores.
DE F. Noble Alsemero!
ALS. I can tell you
News, sir; my wife has her commended to you.
DE F. That’s news indeed, my lord; I think she would
Commend me to the gallows if she could,
She ever loved me so well; I thank her.
ALS. What’s this blood upon your band, De Flores?
DE F. Blood! no, sure ’twas wash’d since.
ALS. Since when, man?
DE F. Since t’other day I got a knock
In a sword-and-dagger school; I think ’tis out.
ALS. Yes, ’tis almost out, but ’tis perceiv’d though.
I had forgot my message; this it is,
What price goes murder?
DE F. How, sir?
ALS. I ask you, sir;
My wife’s behindhand with you, she tells me,
For a brave bloody blow you gave for her sake
Upon Piracquo.
DE F. Upon? ’twas quite through him sure:
Has she confess’d it?
ALS. As sure as death to both of you;
And much more than that.
DE F. It could not be much more;
’Twas but one thing, and that—she is a whore.
ALS. I[t] could not choose but follow: O cunning
devils!
How should blind men know you from fair-fac’d saints?
BEAT. [_within_] He lies! the villain does belie me!
DE F. Let me go to her, sir.
ALS. Nay, you shall to her.—
Peace, crying crocodile, your sounds are heard;
Take your prey to you;—get you in to her, sir:
[_Exit_ DE FLORES _into closet_.
I'll be your pander now; rehearse again
Your scene of lust, that you may be perfect
When you shall come to act it to the black audience,
Where howls and gnashings shall be music to you:
Clip[499] your adulteress freely, ’tis the pilot
Will guide you to the _mare mortuum_,
Where you shall sink to fathoms bottomless.
_Enter_ VERMANDERO, TOMASO, ALIBIUS, ISABELLA,
FRANCISCUS, _and_ ANTONIO.
VER. O Alsemero! I've a wonder for you.
ALS. No, sir, ’tis I, I have a wonder for you.
VER. I have suspicion near as proof itself
For Piracquo’s murder.
ALS. Sir, I have proof
Beyond suspicion for Piracquo’s murder.
VER. Beseech you, hear me; these two have been
disguis’d
E'er since the deed was done.
ALS. I have two other
That were more close disguis’d than your two could be
E'er since the deed was done.
VER. You’ll hear me—these mine own servants.
ALS. Hear me—those nearer than your servants
That shall acquit them, and prove them guiltless.
FRAN. That may be done with easy truth, sir.
TOM. How is my cause bandied through your delays!
’Tis urgent in [my] blood, and calls for haste;
Give me a brother [or] alive or dead;
Alive, a wife with him; if dead, for both
A recompense, for murder and adultery.
BEAT. [_within_] O, O, O!
ALS. Hark! ’tis coming to you.
DE F. [_within_] Nay, I'll along for company.
BEAT. [_within_] O, O!
VER. What horrid sounds are these?
ALS. Come forth, you twins
Of mischief!
_Re-enter_ DE FLORES, _dragging in_ BEATRICE
_wounded_.
DE F. Here we are; if you have any more
To say to us, speak quickly, I shall not
Give you the hearing else; I am so stout yet,
And so, I think, that broken rib of mankind.
VER. An host of enemies enter’d my citadel
Could not amaze like this: Joanna! Beatrice! Joanna!
BEAT. O, come not near me, sir, I shall defile you!
I am that of your blood was taken from you
For your better health; look no more upon’t,
But cast it to the ground regardlessly,
Let the common sewer take it from distinction:
Beneath the stars, upon yon meteor
[_Pointing to_ DE FLORES.
Ever hung[500] my fate, ’mongst things corruptible;
I ne’er[501] could pluck it from him; my loathing
Was prophet to the rest, but ne’er believ’d:
Mine honour fell with him, and now my life.—
Alsemero, I'm a stranger to your bed;
Your bed was cozen’d on the nuptial night,
For which your false bride died.
ALS. Diaphanta?
DE F. Yes, and the while I coupled with your mate
At barley-break;[502] now we are left in hell.
VER. We are all there, it circumscribes [us] here.
DE F. I lov’d this woman in spite of her heart:
Her love I earn’d out of Piracquo’s murder.
TOM. Ha! my brother’s murderer?
DE F. Yes, and her honour’s prize
Was my reward; I thank life for nothing
But that pleasure; it was so sweet to me,
That I have drunk up all, left none behind
For any man to pledge me.
VER. Horrid villain!
Keep life in him for further tortures.
DE F. No!
I can prevent you; here’s my pen-knife still;
It is but one thread more [_stabbing himself_] and now
’tis cut.—
Make haste, Joanna, by that token to thee,
Canst not forget, so lately put in mind;
I would not go to leave thee far behind. [_Dies._
BEAT. Forgive me, Alsemero, all forgive!
’Tis time to die when ’tis a shame to live. _Dies._
VER. O, my name’s enter’d now in that record
Where till this fatal hour ’twas never read!
ALS. Let it be blotted out; let your heart lose it,
And it can never look you in the face,
Nor tell a tale behind the back of life
To your dishonour; justice hath so right
The guilty hit, that innocence is quit
By proclamation, and may joy again.—
Sir, you are sensible of what truth hath done;
’Tis the best comfort that your grief can find.
TOM. Sir, I am satisfied; my injuries
Lie dead before me; I can exact no more,
Unless my soul were loose, and could o’ertake
Those black fugitives that are fled from hence,[503]
To take a second vengeance; but there are wraths
Deeper than mine, ’tis to be fear’d, about ’em.
ALS. What an opacous body had that moon
That last chang’d on us! here is beauty chang’d
To ugly whoredom; here servant-obedience
To a master-sin, imperious murder;
I, a supposed husband, chang’d embraces
With wantonness,—but that was paid before.—
Your change is come too, from an ignorant wrath
To knowing friendship.—Are there any more on’s?
ANT. Yes, sir, I was changed too from a little
ass as I was to a great fool as I am; and had like
to ha' been changed to the gallows, but that you
know my innocence[504] always excuses me.
FRAN. I was chang’d from a little wit to be stark mad,
Almost for the same purpose.
ISA. Your change is still behind,
But deserve best your transformation:
You are a jealous coxcomb, keep schools of folly,
And teach your scholars how to break your own head.
ALIB. I see all apparent, wife, and will change now
Into a better husband, and ne’er keep
Scholars that shall be wiser than myself.
ALS. Sir, you have yet a son’s duty living,
Please you, accept it; let that your sorrow,
As it goes from your eye, go from your heart,
Man and his sorrow at the grave must part.—
All we can do[505] to comfort one another,
To stay a brother’s sorrow for a brother,
To dry a child from the kind father’s eyes,
Is to no purpose, it rather multiplies:
Your only smiles have power to cause re-live
The dead again, or in their rooms to give
Brother a new brother, father a child;
If these appear, all griefs are reconcil’d.
[_Exeunt omnes._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
A GAME AT CHESS.
Of _A Game at Chess_ I have seen three different editions, all 4to, n.
d. To two of them, abounding in the grossest errors, is prefixed the
engraved title-page, of which a fac-simile is given in the present work.
The other edition, which is comparatively very correct, and which I have
therefore made the basis of my text (designating it in the notes as
Quarto C.), has also an engraved title-page, but less curious and
containing fewer figures than that above mentioned.[506]
Mr. J. P. Collier possesses a letter-press title-page of the play,
“_Printed_ 1625,” belonging to some edition of which, I believe, no
copies are known to exist.
A MS. of _A Game at Chess_, dated 1624, is in the British Museum
(_Lansdown_, 690); and another, imperfect, in the library at Bridgewater
House: I have collated both for the present edition.
This allegorical and political drama was brought on the stage in 1624;
and its production forms a memorable incident in the author’s life: see
Account of Middleton and his Writings.
Two of the most important characters in the play are the Black-Knight,
that is, Gondonmar the Spanish ambassador, and the Fat Bishop, that is,
Antonio de Dominis. The story of the latter is thus concisely related by
Hume: “The famous Antonio di Dominis, Archbishop of Spalato, no
despicable philosopher, came likewise into England [in 1616], and
afforded great triumph to the nation by their gaining so considerable a
proselyte from the papists. But the mortification followed soon after.
For the Archbishop, though advanced to some ecclesiastical preferments,
received not encouragement sufficient to satisfy his ambition, and he
made his escape into Italy [in 1622], where soon after he died in
confinement.” _Hist. of England_, vol. vi. p. 136, ed. 1763. Such
particulars concerning Antonio as were necessary for the illustration of
the text will be found in my notes. That he was a man of a restless
spirit, vain, ambitious, and avaricious, is no more to be doubted than
that his talents and acquirements were of a superior order.
The White King and the Black King represent, I presume, the respective
monarchs of England and Spain (see Secretary Conway’s letter in Account
of Middleton and his Writings); and the White Queen’s Pawn seems
intended to stand for the Church of England.
THE PICTURE PLAINLY EXPLAINED AFTER THE
MANNER OF THE CHESS-PLAY.
A Game at Chess is here display’d,
Between the Black and White House made,
Wherein crown-thirsting policy
For the Black House, by fallacy,
To the White Knight check often gives,
And to some straits him thereby drives;
The Fat Black Bishop helps also,
With faithless heart, to give the blow:
Yet, maugre all their craft, at length
The White Knight, with wit-wondrous strength
And circumspective prudency,
Gives check-mate by discovery
To the Black Knight: and so at last,
The Game thus won, the Black House cast
Into the Bag, and therein shut,
Find all their plumes and cocks-combs cut.
Plain dealing thus, by wisdom’s guide,
Defeats the cheats of craft and pride.
PROLOGUE.
What of the game call’d Chess-play can be made
To make a stage-play, shall this day be play’d:
First, you shall see the men in order set,
States[507] and their Pawns, when both the sides are
met,
The Houses well distinguish’d; in the game
Some men entrapt and taken to their shame,
Rewarded by their play; and, in the close,
You shall see check-mate given to virtue’s foes:
But the fair’st jewel that our hopes can deck,
Is so to play our game t' avoid your check.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
_White King._ _Black King._
_White Knight._ _Black Knight._
_White Duke._ _Black Duke._
_White Bishop._ _Black Bishop._
_Pawns._ _Pawns._
_Fat Bishop._
_His Pawn._
_White Queen._ _Black Queen._
_Her Pawn._ _Her Pawn._
IN THE INDUCTION.
IGNATIUS LOYOLA.
ERROR.
A GAME AT CHESS.
INDUCTION.
ERROR _discovered asleep: enter_ IGNATIUS LOYOLA.
IGN. Ha! where? what angle[508] of the world is this,
That I can neither see the politic face,
Nor with my refin’d nostrils taste[509] the footsteps
Of any my disciples, sons and heirs
As well of my designs as institution?
I thought they had spread over the world by this time,
Cover’d the earth’s face, and made dark the land,
Like the Egyptian grasshoppers.
Here’s too much light appears, shot from the eyes
Of Truth and Goodness never yet deflower’d:
Sure they were never here; then is their monarchy
Unperfect yet; a just reward, I see,
For their ingratitude so long to me,
Their father and their founder.
’Tis not five years since I was sainted by ’em:
Where slept mine honour all the time before?
Could they be so forgetful to canonize
Their prosperous institutor? when they had sainted me,
They found no room in all their calendar
To place my name, that should have remov’d princes,
Pull’d the most eminent prelates by the roots up
For my dear coming, to make way for me;
Let every petty martyr and saint homily,
Roch,[510] Main,[511] and Petronill,[512] itch and
ague-curers,
Your abbess Aldegund[513] and Cunegund,[514]
The widow Marcell,[515] parson Polycarp,[516]
Cecily[517] and Ursula,[518] all take place of me;
And but for the bissextile or leap-year,
And that’s but one in three. I fall by chance
Into the nine-and-twentieth day of February;
There were no room else for me: see their love,
Their conscience too, to thrust me a lame soldier[519]
Into leap-year! My Wrath’s up, and, methinks,
I could with the first syllable of my name
Blow up their colleges.—Up, Error, wake!
Father of supererogation, rise!
It is Ignatius calls thee, Loyola.
ERROR. What have you done? O, I could sleep in
ignorance
Immortally, the slumber is so pleasing!
I saw the bravest setting for a game now
That ever mine eye fix’d on.
IGN. What game, prithee?
ERROR. The noblest game of all, a game at chess,
Betwixt our side and the White House; the men set
In their just order, ready to go to’t.
IGN. Were any of my sons plac’d for the game?
ERROR. Yes, and a daughter too; a secular daughter
That plays the Black Queen’s Pawn, he the Black
Bishop’s.
IGN. If ever power could shew a mastery[520] in thee,
Let it appear in this!
ERROR. ’Tis but a dream,
A vision, you must think.
IGN. I care not what,
So I behold[521] the children of my cunning,
And see what rank they keep.
ERROR. You have your wish:
_Music: enter severally, in order of the game, the White
and Black Houses._
Behold, there’s the full number of the game,
Kings and their Pawns, Queens, Bishops, Knights, and
Dukes.
IGN. Dukes? they’re call’d Rooks by some.
ERROR. Corruptedly;
_Le roc_[522] the word, _custode[523] de la roche_,
The keeper of the forts, in whom both Kings
Repose much confidence; and for their trust-sake,
Courage, and worth, do well deserve those titles.
IGN. The answer’s high: I see my son and
daughter.[524]
ERROR. Those are two Pawns, the Black Queen’s and
Black[525] Bishop’s.
IGN. Pawns argue but poor spirits and slight
performents,[526]
Nor worthy of the name of my disciples:
If I had stood so nigh, I would have cut
That Bishop’s throat but I'd have had his place,
And told the Queen a love-tale in her ear
Would make her best pulse dance: there’s no elixir
Of brain or spirit amongst ’em.
ERROR. Why, would you have them play against
themselves?
That’s quite against the rule of game, Ignatius.
IGN. Pish, I would rule myself, not observe rule.
ERROR. Why, then, you’d play a game all by yourself.
IGN. I would do any thing to rule alone:
’Tis rare to have the world reign’d in by one.[527]
ERROR. See ’em anon, and mark ’em in their play;
Observe, as in a dance, they glide away. [_Exeunt the
two Houses._
IGN. O, with what longings will this breast be tost,
Until I see this great game won and lost! [_Exeunt._
ACT I. SCENE I.
_Field between the two Houses._
_Enter severally White Queen’s Pawn and Black Queen’s
Pawn._
B. Q. PAWN. I ne’er see that face but my pity rises;
When I behold so clear a masterpiece
Of heaven’s art wrought out of dust and ashes,
And at next thought to give her lost eternally,
In being not ours, but the daughter of heresy,
My soul bleeds at mine eyes.
W. Q. PAWN. Where should truth speak,
If not in such a sorrow? they’re tears plainly:
Beshrew me, if she weep[528] not heartily!
What is my peace to her to take such pains in’t?
If I wander to loss, and with broad eyes
Yet miss the path she can run blindfold in
Through often exercise, why should my oversight,
Though in the best game that e’er Christian lost,
Raise the least spring of pity in her eyes?
’Tis doubtless a great charity; and no virtue
Could win me surer.
B. Q. PAWN. Blessed things prevail with’t!
If ever goodness made a gracious promise,
It is in yonder look: what little pains
Would build a fort for virtue to all memory
In that sweet creature, were the ground-work
firmer![529]
W. Q. PAWN. It hath been all my glory to be firm
In what I have profess’d.
B. Q. PAWN. That is the enemy
That steals your strength away, and fights against you,
Disarms[530] your soul even in the heat of battle;
Your firmness that way makes you more infirm
For the right Christian conflict. There I spied
A zealous primitive sparkle but now flew
From your devoted eye,
Able to blow up all the[531] heresies
That ever sate in council with your spirit.
And here comes he whose sanctimonious breath
Can[532] make that spark a flame: list to him, virgin,
At whose first entrance princes will fall prostrate;
Women are weaker vessels.
_Enter Black Bishop’s Pawn._
W. Q. PAWN. By my penitence,
A comely presentation, and the habit
To admiration reverend!
B. Q. PAWN. But the heart, lady, so meek,
That as you see good Charity pictur’d still
With young ones in her arms, so will he cherish
All his young, tractable, sweet, obedient daughters
Even in his bosom, in his own dear bosom.
I am myself a secular Jesuitess,[533]
As many ladies are of worth[534] and greatness:
A second sort are Jesuits _in voto_,
Giving their vow unto the[535] Father General,
That’s the Black Bishop of our House, whose Pawn
This gentleman now stands for, to receive
The college-habit at his holy pleasure.
W. Q. PAWN. But how are those _in voto_ employ’d,
lady,
Till they receive the habit?
B. Q. PAWN. They’re not idle;
He finds them all true labourers in the work
Of th' universal monarchy, which he
And his disciples principally aim at:
Those are maintain’d in many courts and palaces,
And are induc’d by[536] noble personages
Into great princes' services, and prove
Some councillors of state, some secretaries;
All serving in notes of intelligence—
As parish-clerks their mortuary-bills—
To the Father General: so are designs
Oft-times prevented, and important[537] secrets
Of states discover’d, yet no author found,
But they suspected oft that are most sound.
This mystery is too deep yet for your entrance;
And I offend to set your zeal so back:
Check’d by obedience with desire to hasten
Your progress to perfection, I commit you
To the great worker’s hands; to whose grave worth
I fit my reverence, as to you my wishes.
B. B. PAWN. Dost[538] find her supple?
B. Q. PAWN. There’s a little passage made.[539]
[_Exit._
B. B. PAWN. Let me contemplate,
With holy wonder season my access,
And, by degrees, approach the sanctuary
Of unmatch’d beauty, set in grace and goodness.
Amongst the daughters of men I have not found
A more Catholical aspèct: that eye
Doth promise single life and meek obedience;
Upon those lips, the sweet fresh buds of youth,
The holy dew of prayer lies, like pearl
Dropt from the opening eyelids of the morn[540]
Upon the bashful rose. How beauteously
A gentle fast, not rigorously impos’d
Would look upon that cheek! and how delightfully
The courteous physic of a tender penance,
Whose utmost cruelty should not exceed
The first fear of a bride, to beat down frailty,
Would work to sound health your long-fester’d judgment,
And make your merit, which, through erring ignorance,
Appears but spotted righteousness to me,
Far clearer than the innocence of infants!
W. Q. PAWN. To that good work I bow, and will become
Obedience' humblest daughter, since I find
Th' assistance of a sacred strength to aid me:
The labour is as easy to serve virtue
The right way, since ’tis she I ever serv’d
In my desire, though I transgress’d in judgment.
B. B. PAWN. That’s easily absolv’d amongst the rest:
You shall not find the virtue that you serve now
A sharp and cruel mistress; her ear’s open
To all your supplications; you may boldly
And safely let in the most secret sin
Into her knowledge, which, like vanish’d man,
Never returns into the world again;
Fate locks not up more trulier.
W. Q. PAWN. To the guilty
That may appear some benefit.
B. B. PAWN. Who’s so innocent
That never stands in need on’t in some kind?
If every thought were blabb’d that’s so confest,
The very air we breathe would be unblest.—
Now to the work indeed, which is to catch
Her inclination; that’s the special use
We make of all our practice in all kingdoms;
For by discovering[541] their most secret frailties,
Things which, once ours, they must not hide from us
(That’s the first article in the creed we teach ’em),
Finding to what point their blood most inclines,
Know best to apt them then to our designs. [_Aside._
Daughter, the sooner you disperse your errors,
The sooner you make haste to your recovery:
You must part with ’em; to be nice or modest
Towards this good action, is to imitate
The bashfulness of one conceals an ulcer,
For the uncomely parts that[542] tumour vexes,
Till’t be past cure. Resolve you thus far, lady;
The privat’st thought that runs to hide itself
In the most secret corner of your heart now,
Must be of my acquaintance, so familiarly
Never she-friend of your night-counsels[543] nearer.
W. Q. PAWN. I stand not much in fear of any action
Guilty of that black time, most noble holiness.
I must confess, as in a sacred temple
Throng’d with an auditory, some come rather
To feed on human object than to taste
Of angels' food;
So in the congregation of quick thoughts,
Which are more infinite than such assemblies,
I cannot with truth’s safety speak for all:
Some have been wanderers, some fond,[544] some sinful,
But those found ever but poor entertainment,
They had small encouragement to come again.
The single life, which strongly I profess now,
Heaven pardon me! I was about to part from.
B. B. PAWN. Then you have pass’d through love?
W. Q. PAWN. But left no stain
In all my passage, sir, no print of wrong
For the most chaste maid that may trace my footsteps.
B. B. PAWN. How came you off so clear?
W. Q. PAWN. I was discharg’d
By an inhuman accident, which modesty
Forbids me to put any language to.
B. B. PAWN. How you forget yourself! all actions
Clad[545] in their proper language, though most sordid,
My ear is bound by duty to let in
And lock up everlastingly. Shall I help you?
He was not found to answer his creation:
A vestal virgin in a slip of grace
Could not deliver man’s loss modestlier:
’Twas the White Bishop’s Pawn.
W. Q. PAWN. The same, blest sir.
B. B. PAWN. An heretic well pickled.
W. Q. PAWN. By base treachery,
And violence prepar’d by his competitor,[546]
The Black Knight’s Pawn, whom I shall ever hate for’t.
B. B. PAWN. ’Twas of revenges the unmanliest way
That ever rival took; a villany
That, for your sake, I'll ne’er absolve him of.
W. Q. PAWN. I wish it not so heavy.
B. B. PAWN. He must feel it:
I never yet gave absolution
To any crime of that unmanning nature.
It seems then you refus’d him for defect;
Therein you stand not pure from the desire
That other women have in ends of marriage:
Pardon my boldness, if I sift your goodness
To the last grain.
W. Q. PAWN. I reverence your pains, sir,
And must acknowledge custom to enjoy
What other women challenge and possess
More rul’d me than desire; for my desires
Dwell all in ignorance, and I'll never wish
To know that fond[547] way may redeem ’em thence.
B. B. PAWN. I never was so taken; beset doubly
Now with her judgment: what a strength it puts forth!
[_Aside._
I bring work nearer to you: when you’ve seen
A masterpiece of man, compos’d by heaven
For a great prince’s favour, kingdom’s love;
So exact, envy could not find a place
To stick a blot on person or on fame;
Have you not found ambition swell your wish then,
And desire stir your blood?
W. Q. PAWN. By virtue, never!
I've only in the dignity of the creature
Admir’d the maker’s glory.
B. B. PAWN. She’s impregnable;
A second siege must not fall off so tamely:
She’s one of those must be inform’d to know
A daughter’s duty, which some take untaught:
Her modesty brings her behind-hand much;
My old means I must fly to—yes, ’tis it. [_Aside._
Please you, peruse this small tract of obedience;
'Twill help you forward well. [_Gives a book._
W. Q. PAWN. Sir, that’s a virtue
I've ever thought on with a special reverence.
B. B. PAWN. You will conceive by that my power, your
duty.
_Enter White Bishop’s Pawn._
W. Q. PAWN. The knowledge will be precious of both,
sir.
W. B. PAWN. What makes yon troubler of all
Christian waters
So near that blessed spring? but that I know
Her goodness is the rock from whence it issues
Unmoveable as fate, ’twould more afflict me
Than all my sufferings for her, which so long
As she holds constant to the House she comes of,
The whiteness of the cause, the side, the quality,
Are sacrifices to her worth and virtue;
And, though confin’d in my religious joys,
I[548] marry her and possess her. [_Aside._
_Enter Black Knight’s Pawn._
B. B. PAWN. Behold, lady,
The two inhuman enemies, the Black Knight’s Pawn
And the White Bishop’s; the gelder and the gelded.
W. Q. PAWN. There’s my grief, my hate!
B. KT.'S PAWN. What, in the Jesuit’s fingers? by this
hand,
I'll give my part now for a parrot’s feather,
She never returns virtuous, ’tis impossible:
I'll undertake more wagers will be laid
Upon a usurer’s return from hell
Than upon hers from him now. Have I[549] been guilty
Of such base malice that my very conscience
Shakes at the memory of it,[550] and, when I look
To gather fruit, find nothing but the savin-tree,
Too frequent in nuns' orchards, and there planted,
By all conjecture, to destroy fruit[551] rather?
I'll be resolvèd[552] now. [_Aside._]—Most noble virgin—
—
W. Q. PAWN. Ignoble villain! dare that unhallow’d
tongue
Lay hold upon a sound so gracious?
What’s nobleness to thee, or virgin chastity?
They’re out of thy acquaintance: talk of violence
That shames creation, deeds would make night blush,
That’s company for thee. Hast thou the impudence
To court me with a leprosy upon thee
Able t' infect the walls of a great building?
B. B. PAWN. Son of offence, forbear! go, set your evil
Before your eyes; a penitential vesture
Would better become you, some shirt of hair.
B. KT.'S PAWN. And you a three-pound smock ’stead of
an alb,
An[553] epicene casible.[554]—This holy felon
Robs safe and close: I feel a sting that’s worse too.
[_Aside._
White Pawn, hast so much charity to accept
A reconcilement? make thine own conditions,
For I begin to be extremely burden’d.
W. B. PAWN. No truth or peace of that Black House
protested
Is to be trusted; but for hope of quittance,
And warn’d by diffidence, I may entrap him soonest.
[_Aside._
I admit conference.
B. KT.'S PAWN. It’s a nobleness
That makes confusion cleave to all my merits.
[_Exeunt W. B. Pawn and B. Kt.'s Pawn._
_Enter Black Knight._
B. B. PAWN [_to W. Q. Pawn_]. That treatise will
instruct you throughly.
B. KNIGHT. So, so!
The business of the universal monarchy
Goes forward well now! the great college-pot,
That should be always boiling with the fuel
Of all intelligences possible
Through the Christian kingdoms. Is this fellow
Our prime incendiary, and one of those
That promis’d the White Kingdom seven years since
To our Black House? put a new daughter to him,
The great[555] work stands; he minds nor monarchy
Nor hierarchy, diviner[556] principality.
I have bragg’d less,
But have[557] done more than all the conclave on ’em,
Take their assistant fathers in all parts,
Yea, and their Father General in to boot;
And what I've done,[558] I've done facetiously,
With pleasant subtlety and bewitching courtship,
Abus’d all my believers with delight,—
They took a comfort to be cozen’d by me:
To many a soul I've let in mortal poison,
Whose cheeks have crack’d with laughter to receive it;
I could so roll my pills in sugar’d syllables,
And strew such kindly mirth o’er all my mischief,
They took their bane in way of recreation,
As pleasure steals corruption into youth.
He spies me now: I must uphold his reverence,
Especially in public, though I know
Priapus, guardian of the cherry-gardens,
Bacchus' and Venus' chit, is not more vicious.
[_Aside._
B. B. PAWN. Blessings' accumulation keep with you,
sir!
B. KNIGHT. Honour’s dissimulation be your due, sir!
W. Q. PAWN. How deep in duty his observance plunges!
His charge must needs be reverend. [_Aside._
B. B. PAWN. I am confessor
To this Black Knight too; you see devotion’s fruitful,
Sh’ath many sons and daughters.
B. KNIGHT. I do this the more
T' amaze our adversaries to behold
The reverence we give these[559] guitonens,[560]
And to beget a sound opinion
Of holiness in them and zeal in us,
[_Exit W. Q. Pawn._
As also to invite the like obedience
In other pusills[561] by our meek example.— [_Aside._
So, is your trifle vanish’d?
B. B. PAWN. Trifle call you her? ’tis a good Pawn,
sir;
Sure she’s the second Pawn in the White House,
And to the opening of the game I hold her.
B. KNIGHT. Ay, you
Hold well for that, I know your play of old:
If there were more Queen’s Pawns, you’d ply the game
A great deal harder. Now, sir, we’re in private;
But what for the great work, the main existence,[562]
The hope monarchal?
B. B. PAWN. It goes on in this.
B. KNIGHT. In this! I cannot see’t.
B. B. PAWN. You may deny so
A dial’s motion, ’cause you cannot see
The hand move, or a wind that rends the cedar.
B. KNIGHT. Where stops the current of intelligence?
Your Father General, Bishop o' the Black House,
Complains for want of work.
B. B. PAWN. Here’s from all parts,
Sufficient to employ him; I receiv’d
A packet from th' Assistant Fathers lately;
Look, there is _Anglica_, this _Gallica_.
[_Gives letters._
B. KNIGHT. Ay, marry, sir, there’s some quick flesh in
this.
B. B. PAWN. _Germanica._ [_Gives letter._
B. KNIGHT. I think they have seal’d this with butter.
B. B. PAWN. This _Italica_. [_Gives letter._
B. KNIGHT. They’ve put their pens the Hebrew way,
methinks.
B. B. PAWN. _Hispanica_ here. [_Gives letter._
B. KNIGHT. _Hispanica!_ blind work ’tis; the Jesuit
Hath writ this with the juice of lemons sure,
It must be held close to the fire of purgatory
Ere’t can be read.
B. B. PAWN. You would not lose your jest, Knight,
Though it wounded your own fame.[563]
B. KNIGHT. _Curanda pecunia._
B. B. PAWN. Take heed, sir; we’re entrapp’d,—the White
King’s Pawn.
_Enter White King’s Pawn._
B. KNIGHT. He’s made our own, man; half _in voto_
yours,
His heart’s in the Black House: leave him to me.—
[_Exit B. B. Pawn._
Most of all friends endear’d, preciously special!
W. KG.'S PAWN. You see my outside, but you know my
heart, Knight,
Great difference in the colour. There’s some
intelligence; [_Gives letter._
And as more ripens, so your knowledge still
Shall prove the richer: there shall nothing happen,
Believe it, to extenuate your cause,
Or to oppress her friends, but I will strive
To cross it with my counsel, purse, and power;
Keep all supplies back both in means and men
That may raise strength against you. We must part:
I dare no longer of this theme discuss;
The ear of state is quick and jealious.[564]
B. KNIGHT. Excellent estimation! thou art valu’d
Above the fleet of gold that came short home.
[_Exit W. Kg.’s Pawn._
Poor Jesuit-ridden soul! how art thou fool’d
Out of thy faith, from thy allegiance drawn!
Which way soe’er thou tak’st, thou’rt a lost Pawn.
[_Exit._
ACT II. SCENE I.
_Field between the two Houses._
_Enter White Queen’s Pawn with a book in her hand._
W. Q. PAWN. And here again: [_reads_] _It is the
daughter’s duty
T' obey her confessor’s command in all things,
Without exception or expostulation_:
’Tis the most general rule that e’er I heard[565] of;
Yet when I think how boundless virtue is,
Goodness and grace, ’tis gently[566] reconcil’d,
And then it appears well to have the power
Of the dispenser as uncircumscrib’d.
_Enter Black Bishop’s Pawn._
B. B. PAWN. She’s hard upon’t; ’twas the most modest
key
That I could use to open my intents:
What little or no pains goes to some people!
Hah! what have we here?[567] a seal’d note! whence this?
[_Takes up a letter._
[_Reads_] _To the Black Bishop’s Pawn these_: how? to
me?
Strange![568] who subscribes it? _The Black King_: what
would he?
[_Reads_] _Pawn sufficiently holy, but unmeasurably
politic; we had late intelligence from our most
industrious servant, famous in all parts of Europe, our
Knight of the Black House, that you have at this instant
in chase the White Queen’s Pawn, and very likely, by the
carriage of your game, to entrap and take her: these are
therefore to require you, by the burning affection I
bear to the rape of devotion, that speedily, upon the
surprisal of her, by all watchful advantage you make
some attempt upon the White Queen’s person, whose fall
or prostitution our lust most violently rages for._
Sir, after my desire hath took a julep
For its own inflammation, that yet scorches me,
I shall have cooler time to think of yours.
Sh’ath past the general rule, the large extent
Of our prescriptions for obedience;
And yet with what[569] alacrity of soul
Her eyes move on the letters!
W. Q. PAWN. Holy sir,
Too long I've miss’d you; O, your absence starves me!
Hasten for time’s redemption: worthy sir,
Lay your commands as thick and fast upon me
As you can speak ’em; how I thirst to hear ’em!
Set me to work upon this spacious virtue,
Which the poor span of life’s too narrow for,
Boundless obedience!
The humblest yet the mightiest of all duties,
Well here set down[570] a universal goodness.
B. B. PAWN. By holiness of garment, her safe innocence
Hath frighted the full meaning from itself;
She’s further off from understanding now
The language of my intent than at first meeting.
[_Aside._
W. Q. PAWN. For virtue’s sake, good sir, command me
something;
Make trial of my duty in some small service;
And as you find the faith of my obedience there,
Then trust it with a greater.
B. B. PAWN. You speak sweetly:
I do command you first then——
W. Q. PAWN. With what joy
I do prepare my duty!
B. B. PAWN. To meet me,
And seal a kiss of love upon my lips.
W. Q. PAWN. Hah!
B. B. PAWN. At first disobedient! in[571] so little
too!
How shall I trust you with a greater then,
Which was your own request?
W. Q. PAWN. Pray, send not back
Mine innocence to wound me; be more courteous.
I must confess, much[572] like an ignorant plaintiff,
who,
Presuming on the fair path of his meaning,
Goes rashly on, till on a sudden brought
Into the wilderness of law by words
Dropt unadvisedly, hurts his good cause,
And gives his adversary advantage by’t,—
Apply it you can best, sir. If my obedience
And your command can find no better way,
Fond men command, and wantons best obey.
B. B. PAWN. If I can at that distance send you a
blessing,
Is it not nearer to you in mine arms?
It flies from these lips dealt abroad in parcels;
And I, to honour thee above all daughters,
Invite thee home to th' House, where thou may’st surfeit
On that which others miserably pine for;
A favour which the daughters of great potentates
Would look of envy’s colour but to hear.
W. Q. PAWN. Good men may err sometimes; you’re
mistaken sure:
If this be virtue’s path, ’tis a most strange one;
I never came this way before.
B. B. PAWN. That’s your ignorance;
And therefore shall that idiot still conduct you
That knows no way but one, nor ever seeks it?
If there be twenty ways to some poor village,
’Tis strange that virtue should be put to one.
Your fear is wondrous faulty; cast it from you;
'Twill gather else in time a disobedience
Too stubborn for my pardon.
W. Q. PAWN. Have I lock’d myself
At unawares into sin’s servitude
With more desire of goodness? Is this the top
Of all strict order, and the holiest
Of all societies, the three-vow’d people
For poverty, obedience, chastity,—
The last the most forgot? When a virgin’s ruin’d,
I see the great work of obedience
Is better than half finish’d.
B. B. PAWN. What a stranger
Are you to duty grown! what distance keep you!
Must I bid you come forward to a happiness
Yourself should sue for? ’twas ne’er so with me.
I dare not let this stubbornness be known,
'Twould bring such fierce hate on you: yet presume not
To make that courteous care a privilege
For wilful disobedience; it turns then
Into the blackness of a curse upon you:
Come, come, be nearer.
W. Q. PAWN. Nearer!
B. B. PAWN. Was that scorn?
I would not have it prove so for the hopes
Of the grand monarchy: if it were like it,
Let it not dare to stir[573] abroad again;
A stronger ill will cope with’t.
W. Q. PAWN. Bless me, threatens me,
And quite dismays the good strength that should help me!
I never was[574] so doubtful of my safety.[575]
B. B. PAWN. ’Twas but my jealousy; forgive me,
sweetness:
Yours[576] is the house of meekness, and no venom lives
Under that roof. Be nearer: why so fearful?
Nearer the altar, the more safe and sacred.
W. Q. PAWN. But nearer to the offerer,[577] oft more
wicked.
B. B. PAWN. A plain and most insufferable contempt!
My glory I have lost upon this woman,
In freely offering that she should have kneel’d
A year in vain for; my respect is darken’d.
Give me my reverence again thou’st robb’d me of
In thy[578] repulse; thou shalt not carry’t hence.
W. Q. PAWN. Sir?
B. B. PAWN. Thou’rt too great a winner to depart,
And I too deep[579] a loser to give way to’t.
W. Q. PAWN. O heaven!
B. B. PAWN. Lay me down reputation
Before thou stirr’st; thy nice virginity
Is recompence too little for my love,[580]
’Tis well if I accept of that for both:
Thy loss is but thine own, there’s art to help thee,
And fools to pass thee to; in my discovery
The whole Society suffers, and in that
The hope of absolute monarchy eclips’d.
Assurance thou canst make[581] none for thy secrecy
But by[582] thy honour’s loss; that act must awe thee.
W. Q. PAWN. O my distrest condition!
B. B. PAWN. Dost thou[583] weep?
If thou hadst any pity, this necessity
Would wring it from thee: I must else destroy thee;
We must not trust the policy of Europe
Upon a woman’s tongue.
W. Q. PAWN. Then take my life, sir,
And leave mine honour for my guide to heaven!
B. B. PAWN. Take heed I take not both, which I have
vow’d,
If longer thou resist[584] me.
W. Q. PAWN. Help! O, help!
B. B. PAWN. Art thou so cruel, for an honour’s bubble
T' undo a whole fraternity, and disperse
The secrets of most princes lock’d in us?
W. Q. PAWN. For heaven and virtue’s sake!
B. B. PAWN. Must force confound[585]—
[_Noise within._
Hah! what’s that?—Silence, if fair worth be in thee.
W. Q. PAWN. I'll venture my escape upon all dangers
now.
B. B. PAWN. Who comes to take me? let me see that[586]
Pawn’s face,
Or his proud tympanous master, swell’d with state-wind,
Which being once prick’d i' the convocation-house,
The corrupt air puffs out, and he falls shrivell’d.
W. Q. PAWN. I will discover thee, arch-hypocrite,
To all the kindreds of the earth. [_Exit._
B. B. PAWN. Confusion!
In that voice rings th' alarum of my undoing.
How, which way ’scap’d she from me?
_Enter Black Queen’s Pawn._
B. Q. PAWN. Are you mad?
Can lust infatuate a man so hopeful?
No patience in your blood? the dog-star reigns, sure:
Time and fair temper would have wrought her pliant.[587]
I spied a Pawn o' the White House walk near us,
And made that noise on purpose to give warning—
For mine own turn, which end in all I work for.
[_Aside._
B. B. PAWN. Methinks I stand over a powder-vault,
And the match now a-kindling: what’s to be done?
B. Q. PAWN. Ask the Black Bishop’s counsel; you’re his
Pawn;
’Tis his own case, he will defend you mainly;
And happily here he comes, with the Black Knight too.
_Enter Black Bishop and Black Knight._
B. BISHOP. O, you’ve made noble work for the White
House yonder!
This act will fill the adversary’s mouth,
And blow the Lutherans' cheeks till they crack again.
B. KNIGHT. This will advance the great monarchal
business
In all parts well, and help the agents forward!
What I in seven year labour’d to accomplish,
One minute sets back by some codpiece college still.
B. B. PAWN. I dwell not, sir, alone in this default,
The Black House yields me partners.
B. BISHOP. All more cautelous.[588]
B. KNIGHT. _Qui caute, caste_; that’s my motto ever;
I've travell’d with that word[589] over most kingdoms,
And lain safe with all nations; of a leaking bottom,
I've been as often toss’d on Venus' seas
As trimmer, fresher vessels, when sounder barks
Have lain at anchor, that is, kept the door.
B. BISHOP. She hath no witness then?
B. B. PAWN. None, none.
B. KNIGHT. Gross! witness?
When went a man of his Society
To mischief with a witness?
B. BISHOP. I have done’t then:
Away upon the wings of speed! take post-horse,
Cast thirty leagues of earth behind thee suddenly;
Leave letters ante-dated with our House
Ten days at least from this.
B. KNIGHT. Bishop, I taste thee;
Good, strong, episcopal counsel! take a bottle on’t,
'Twill serve thee all thy journey.
B. B. PAWN. But, good sir,
How for my getting forth unspied?
B. BISHOP.[590] There’s check again.
B. Q. PAWN. No, I'll help that.
B. KNIGHT. Well said, my bouncing Jesuitess!
B. Q. PAWN. There lies a secret vault.
B. KNIGHT. Away, make haste then!
B. B. PAWN. Run for my cabinet of intelligences,
For fear they search the house. [_Exit B. Q. Pawn._]—
Good Bishop, burn ’em rather;
I cannot stand to pick ’em now.
B. BISHOP. Begone!
The danger’s all in you.
[_Exit B. B. Pawn._
_Re-enter Black Queen’s Pawn with cabinet._
B. KNIGHT. Let me see, Queen’s Pawn:
How formally hath[591] pack’d up his intelligences!
Hath laid them all in truckle-beds, methinks,
And, like court-harbingers, hath writ their names
In chalk upon their chambers: _Anglica_,—
O, this is the English House: what news there,
trow?[592]
ah, by this light, most of these are bawdy epistles!
Time they were burnt indeed! whole bundles of them;
Here’s from his daughter Blanch and daughter Bridget,
From their safe sanctuary in the White-Friars;
These from two tender sisters of Compassion
In the bowels of Bloomsbury;
These from the nunnery in Drury Lane.
A fire, a fire, good Jesuitess, a fire!—
What have you there?
B. BISHOP. A note, sir, of state policy,
And an[593] exceeding safe one.
B. KNIGHT. Pray, let’s see it, sir. [_Reads._
_To sell away all the powder in a kingdom,
To prevent blowing up_: that’s safe, I'll able[594] it.
Here’s a facetious observation now,
And fits my humour better; he writes here,
Some wives in England will commit adultery,
And then send to Rome for a bull for their husbands.
B. BISHOP. Have they those shifts?
B. KNIGHT. O, there’s no female[s] breathing
Sweeter and subtler!—Here, wench, take these papers,
Scorch me ’em[595] soundly, burn ’em to French russet,
And put ’em in again.
B. BISHOP. Why, what’s your mystery?
B. KNIGHT. O, sir, ’twill mock the adversary
strangely,
If e’er the House be search’d: ’twas done in Venice
Upon the Jesuitical expulse there,
When the Inquisitors came all[596] spectacled
To pick out syllables out o' the dung of treason,
As children pick out cherry-stones, yet found none
But what they made themselves with ends of letters.—
Do as I bid you, Pawn.
[_Exeunt B. Knight and B. Bishop._
B. Q. PAWN. Fear not: in all,
I love roguery too well to let it fall.—
_Enter Black Knight’s Pawn._
How now, what news with you?
B. KT.'S PAWN. The sting of conscience
Afflicts me so for that inhuman violence
On the White Bishop’s Pawn, it takes away
My joy, my rest.
B. Q. PAWN. This ’tis to make an eunuch!
You made a sport on’t then.
B. KT.'S PAWN. Cease aggravation:
I come to be absolv’d for’t: where’s my confessor?
Why dost thou point to the ground?
B. Q. PAWN. ’Cause he went that way.
B. KT.'S PAWN. What’s that?
B. Q. PAWN. Come, help me in[597] with this cabinet;
And after I have sing’d these papers throughly,
I'll tell thee a strange story.
B. KT.'S PAWN. If’t be sad,
’Tis welcome.
B. Q. PAWN. ’Tis not troubled with much mirth, sir.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter Fat Bishop[598] and Fat Bishop’s Pawn._
F. BISHOP. Pawn.
F. B. PAWN. I attend at your great holiness' service.
F. BISHOP. For great, I grant you, but for greatly
holy,
There the soil alters: fat cathedral bodies
Have very often but lean little souls,
Much like the lady in the lobster’s head,
A great deal of shell and garbage of all colours,
But the pure part, that should take wings and mount,
Is at last gasp; as if a man should gape,
And from his huge bulk let forth a butterfly,
Like those big-bellied mountains, which the poet
Delivers, that are brought to bed with mouse-flesh.
Are my books[599] printed, Pawn, my last invective
'Gainst the Black House?
F. B. PAWN. Ready for publication,
For I saw perfect books this morning, sir.
F. BISHOP. Fetch me a few, which I will instantly
Distribute ’mongst the White House.
F. B. PAWN. With all speed, sir. [_Exit._
F. BISHOP. ’Tis a most lordly life to rail at ease,
Sit, eat and drink[600] upon the fat of one kingdom,
And rail upon another with the juice on’t.
I've writ this book out of the strength and marrow
Of six and thirty dishes at a meal,
But most on’t out of cullis[601] of cock-sparrows;
'Twill stick and glue the faster to the adversary,
'Twill slit the throat of their most calvish cause;
And yet I ate but little butcher’s meat
In the conception.
Of all things I commend the White House best
For plenty and variety of victuals:
When I was one of the Black side profess’d,
My flesh fell half a cubit; time to turn
When mine own ribs revolted. But to say true,
I've no preferment yet that’s suitable
To the greatness of my person and my parts:
I grant I live at ease, for I am made
The master of the beds,[602] the long acre of beds;
But there’s no marigolds that shut and open,[603]
Flower-gentles, Venus-bath[s], apples of love,
Pinks, hyacinths, honeysuckles, daffadowndillies:
There was a time I had more such drabs than beds;
Now I have more beds than drabs;
Yet there’s no eminent trader deals in wholesale,
But she and I have clapt a bargain up,
Let in at water-gate, for which I've rack’d
My tenants' purse-strings that they’ve twang’d again.
_Re-enter Black Bishop and Black Knight._
Yonder Black Knight, the fistula[604] of Europe,
Whose disease once I undertook to cure
With a High Holborn halter, when he last
Vouchsaf’d to peep into my privileg’d lodgings,
He saw good store of plate there and rich hangings;
He knew I brought none to the White House with me:
I have not lost the use of my profession
Since I turn’d White-House Bishop.
_Re-enter Fat Bishop’s Pawn with books._
B. KNIGHT. Look, more books yet!
Yond greasy turncoat gormandising prelate
Doth work our House more mischief by his scripts,
His fat and fulsome volumes, than the whole
Body of th' adverse party.
B. BISHOP. O, it were
A masterpiece of serpent subtlety
To fetch him o' this side again!
B. KNIGHT. And then damn him
Into the bag for ever, or expose him
Against the adverse part, which now he feeds upon;
And that would double-damn him. My revenge
Hath prompted me already: I'll confound him
On both sides for the physic he prescrib’d,[605]
And the base surgeon he provided[606] for me.
I'll tell thee what a most uncatholic jest[607]
He put upon me once when my pain tortur’d me:
He told me he had found a present cure for me,
Which I grew proud on, and observ’d him seriously;
What think you ’t was? being execution-day,
He shew’d the hangman to me out at window,
The common hangman!
B. BISHOP. O, insufferable!
B. KNIGHT. I'll make him the balloon-ball[608] of the
churches,
And both the sides shall toss him: he looks like one,
A thing swell’d up with mingled drink and urine,
And will bound well from one side to another.
Come, you shall write; our second bishop absent,[609]
(Which hath yet no employment in the game,
Perhaps nor ever shall; it may be won
Without his motion, it rests most in ours,)
He shall be flatter’d with _sede vacante_;
Make him believe he comes into his place,
And that will fetch him with a vengeance to us;
For I know powder is not more ambitious
When the match meets it, than his mind, for mounting;
As covetous and lecherous——
B. BISHOP. No more now, sir;
_Enter on one side, White King, White Queen, White
Knight, White Duke, White Bishop, White King’s Pawn,
and White Bishop’s Pawn; on the other, Black King,
Black Queen, Black Duke, and Black Knight’s Pawn._
Both the sides fill.
W. KING. This hath been look’d for long.
F. BISHOP. The stronger sting it shoots into the blood
Of the Black adversary: I'm asham’d now
I was theirs ever; what a lump was I
When I was led in ignorance and blindness![610]
I must confess,[611]
I've all my lifetime play’d the fool till now.
B. KNIGHT. And now he plays two parts, the fool and
knave.
F. BISHOP. There is my recantation in the last leaf,
Writ, like a Ciceronian, in pure Latin.
W. BISHOP.[612] Pure honesty, the plainer Latin serves
then.
B. KNIGHT. Plague on those pestilent pamphlets! those
are they
That wound our cause to th' heart.
B. BISHOP. Here comes more anger.
_Enter White Queen’s Pawn._
B. KNIGHT. But we come well provided for this storm.
W. QUEEN. Is this my Pawn, she that should guard our
person,
Or some pale figure of dejection
Her shape usurping? Sorrow and affrightment
Have[613] prevail’d strangely with her.
W. Q. PAWN. King of integrity,
Queen of the same, and all the House, professors
Of noble candour, uncorrupted justice,
And truth of heart, through my alone discovery—
My life and honour wondrously preserv’d—
I bring into your knowledge with my sufferings,
Fearful affrightments, and heart-killing terrors:[614]
The great incendiary of Christendom,
The absolut’st abuser of true sanctity,
Fair peace, and holy order, can be found
In any part o' th' universal globe;
Who, making meek devotion keep the door,—
His lips being full of holy zeal at first,—
Would have committed a foul rape upon me.
W. QUEEN. Hah!
W. KING. A rape? that’s foul indeed; the very sound
To our ear fouler than th' offence itself
To some kings of the earth.
W. Q. PAWN. Sir, to proceed,—
Gladly I offer’d life to preserve honour,
Which would not be accepted without both,
The chief of his ill aim being at mine honour;
Till heaven was pleas’d, by some unlook’d-for accident,
To give me courage to redeem myself.
W. KING. When we find desperate sins in ill men’s
companies,
We place a charitable sorrow there,
But custom, and their leprous inclination,
Quit[615] us of wonder,[616] for our expectation
Is answer’d in their lives; but to find sin,
Yea, and a masterpiece of darkness, shelter’d
Under a robe of sanctity, is able
To draw all wonder to that monster only,
And leave created monsters unadmir’d.
The pride of him that took first fall for pride
Is to be angel-shap’d, and imitate
The form from whence he fell; but this offender,
Far baser than sin’s master, fix’d by vow
To holy order, which is angels' method,
Takes pride to use that shape to be a devil.
It grieves me that my knowledge must be tainted
With his infected name:
O, rather with thy finger point him out!
W. Q. PAWN. The place which he should fill is void, my
lord,
His guilt hath scar’d[617] him,—the Black Bishop’s Pawn.
B. BISHOP. Hah! mine? my Pawn? the glory of his[618]
order,
The prime and president zealot of the earth?
Impudent Pawn, for thy sake at this minute
Modesty suffers, all that’s virtuous blushes,
And truth’s self, like the sun vex’d with a mist,
Looks red with anger.
W. BISHOP. Be not you drunk with rage too.
B. BISHOP.[619] Sober sincerity, nor you [with] a cup
Spic’d with hypocrisy.
W. KNIGHT. You name there, Bishop,
But your own Christmas-bowl, your morning’s draught,
Next your episcopal heart all the twelve days,
Which smack you cannot leave all the year after.[620]
B. KNIGHT. A shrewd retort!
Has made our Bishop smell of burning too:
Would I stood further off! were’t no impeachment
To my honour or[621] the game, would they’d play faster!
[_Aside._
White Knight, there is acknowledg’d from our House
A reverence to you, and a respect
To that lov’d Duke stands next you: with the favour
Of the White King and th' aforenam’d respected,
I combat with this cause. If with all speed,—
Waste not one syllable, unfortunate Pawn,
Of what I speak,—thou dost not plead distraction,
A plea which will but faintly take thee off neither
From this leviathan-scandal that lies rolling
Upon the crystal waters of devotion;
Or, what may quit[622] thee more, though enough nothing,
Fall down and foam, and by that pang discover
The vexing spirit of falsehood strong within thee,
Make thyself ready for perdition;
There’s no remove[623] in all the game to ’scape it;
This Pawn or this, the Bishop or myself,
Will take thee in the end, play how thou canst.
W. Q. PAWN. Spite of sin’s glorious ostentation,
And all loud threats, those thunder-cracks of pride,
Ushering a storm of malice; House of impudence,
Craft[624] and equivocation, my true cause
Shall keep the path it treads in.
B. KNIGHT. I play thus then:
Now in the hearing of this high assembly
Bring forth the time of this attempt’s conception.
W. Q. PAWN. Conception? O, how tenderly you handle it!
W. BISHOP. It seems, Black Knight, you are afraid to
touch it.
B. KNIGHT. Well, its eruption: will she have it so
then,
Or you, White Bishop, for her? the more unclean,[625]
Vild,[626] and more[627] impious that you urge the
strain to,
The greater will her shame’s heap shew i' th' end,
And the wrong’d meek man’s glory.—The time, Pawn?
W. Q. PAWN. Yesterday’s[628] cursed evening.
B. KNIGHT. O the treasure
Of my revenge! I cannot spend all on thee,
Ruin[629] to spare for all thy kindred too:
For honour’s sake call in more slanderers;
I have such plentiful confusion,
I know not how to waste it. I'll be nobler yet,
And put her to her own House.—King of meekness,
Take the cause to thee, for our hand’s too heavy;
Our proofs will fall upon her like a tower,
And grind her bones to powder.
W. Q. PAWN. What new engine
Has the devil rais’d in him now?
B. KNIGHT. Is it he,
And that the time? stand firm now to your scandal,
Pray, do not shift your slander.
W. Q. PAWN. Shift your treacheries;
They’ve worn one suit too long.
B. KNIGHT. That holy man,
So wrongfully accus’d by this lost Pawn,
Hath not been seen these ten days in these parts.
W. KING.[630] How?
B. KNIGHT. Nay, at this instant thirty leagues from
hence.
W. Q. PAWN. Fathomless falsehood! will it ’scape
unblasted?
W. KING.[631] Can you make this appear?
B. KNIGHT. Light is not clearer;
By his own letters, most impartial monarch.
W. KG.'S PAWN.[632] How wrongfully may sacred virtue
suffer, sir!
B. KNIGHT. Bishop, we have a treasure of that false
heart.
W. KING.[633] Step forth, and reach those proofs.
[_Exit B. Kt.'s Pawn, who presently returns with
papers._
W. Q. PAWN. Amazement covers me!
Can I be so forsaken of a cause
So strong[634] in truth and equity? will virtue
Send me no aid in this hard time of friendship?
B. KNIGHT. There’s an infallible staff and a red hat
Reserv’d for you.
W. KG.'S PAWN.[635] O, sir endear’d![636]
B. KNIGHT. A staff
That will not easily break; you may trust to’t;
And such a one had your corruption need of;
There’s a state-fig for you now.
W. KING.[637] Behold all,
How they cohere in one! I always held
A charity so good to holiness
Profess’d, that[638] I ever believ’d rather
Th' accuser false than the professor vicious.
B. KNIGHT. A charity, like all your virtues else,
Gracious and glorious.
W. KING. Where settles the offence,
Let the fault’s punishment be deriv’d from thence:
We leave her to your censure.
B. KNIGHT. Most just majesty!
[_Exeunt W. King, W. Queen, W. Bishop, and W. Kg.'s
Pawn; F. Bishop and F. B. Pawn._
W. Q. PAWN. Calamity of virtue! my Queen leave me too!
Am I cast off as th' olive casts her flower?
Poor friendless innocence, art thou left[639] a prey
To the devourer?
W. KNIGHT. No, thou art not lost,
Let ’em put on their bloodiest resolutions,
If the fair policy I aim at prospers.—
Thy counsel, noble Duke!
W. DUKE. For that work cheerfully.
W. KNIGHT. A man for speed now!
W. B. PAWN. Let it be my honour, sir;
Make me that flight,[640] that owes her my life’s
service.
[_Exeunt W. Knight, W. Duke, and W. B. Pawn._
B. KNIGHT. Was not this brought about well for our
honours?
B. BISHOP. Pish, that Galician brain can work out
wonders.
B. KNIGHT. Let’s use her as, upon the like discovery,
A maid was us’d at Venice; every one
Be ready with a penance.—Begin, majesty.—
Vessel of foolish scandal, take thy freight:
Had there been in that cabinet of niceness[641]
Half the virginities of the earth lock’d up,
And all swept at one cast by the dexterity
Of a Jesuitical gamester, ’t had not valued
The least part of that general worth thou’st tainted.
B. KING.[642] First, I enjoin thee to a three days'
fast for’t.
B. QUEEN. You’re too penurious, sir; I'll make it
four.
B. BISHOP. I to a twelve hours' kneeling at one time.
B. KNIGHT. And in a room fill’d all with Aretine’s
pictures,
More than the twice-twelve labours of luxury:[643]
Thou shalt not see so much as the chaste pommel
Of Lucrece' dagger peeping; nay, I'll punish thee
For a discoverer, I'll torment thy modesty.
B. DUKE. After that four days' fast, to th'
Inquisition-house,
Strengthen’d with bread and water for worse penance.
B. KNIGHT. Why, well said, duke of our House, nobly
aggravated!
W. Q. PAWN. Virtue, to shew her influence more strong,
Fits me with patience mightier than my wrong.
[_Exeunt._
ACT III. SCENE I.
_Field between the two Houses._
_Enter Fat Bishop._
F. BISHOP. I know my pen draws blood of the Black
House,
There’s ne’er a book I write but their cause bleeds;
It hath lost many an ounce of reputation
Since I came of this side; I strike deep in,
And leave the orifex gushing where I come.
But where’s my advancement all this while I've gap’d
for?
I'd have some round preferment, corpulent dignity,
That bears some breadth and compass in the gift on’t:
I am persuaded that this flesh would fill
The biggest chair ecclesiastical,
If it were put to trial.
To be made master of an hospital
Is but a kind of diseas’d bed-rid[644] honour;
Or dean of the poor alms-knights that wear badges:[645]
There’s but two lazy, beggarly preferments
In the White Kingdom, and I've got ’em both:
My merit doth begin to be crop-sick
For want of other titles.[646]
_Enter Black Knight._
B. KNIGHT. O, here walks
His fulsome holiness: now for the master-trick
T' undo him everlastingly, that’s put home,
And make him hang in hell most seriously
That jested with a halter upon me. [_Aside._
F. BISHOP. The Black Knight! I must look to my play
then. [_Aside._
B. KNIGHT. I bring fair greetings to your reverend
virtues
From Cardinal Paulus, your most princely kinsman.
[_Gives a letter._
F. BISHOP. Our princely kinsman, say’st thou? we accept
’em.
Pray, keep your side and distance; I am chary
Of my episcopal person:
I know the Knight’s walk in this game too well;
He may skip[647] over me, and where am I then?
B. KNIGHT. There where thou shalt be shortly, if art
fail not. [_Aside._
F. BISHOP. [_reads_] _Right reverend and noble_,—
meaning me,—_our true[648] kinsman in blood, but
alienated in affection, your unkind disobedience to
the mother cause proves at this time the only cause
of your ill fortune: my present remove by general
election to the papal dignity had now auspiciously
settled you in my_ sede vacante—how! had it so?—
_which at my next remove by death might have proved
your step to supremacy_.
Ha! all my body’s blood mounts to my face
To look upon this letter.
B. KNIGHT. The pill works with him. [_Aside._
F. BISHOP. [_reads_] _Think on’t seriously; it is not
yet too late, through the submiss acknowledgment of your
disobedience, to be lovingly received into the brotherly
bosom of the conclave._
This was the chair of ease I ever aim’d at.
I'll make a bonfire of my books immediately;
All that are left against that side I'll sacrifice;
Pack up my plate and goods, and steal away
By night at water-gate. It is but penning
Another recantation,[649] and inventing
Two or three bitter books against the White House,
And then I'm in on th' other side again
As firm as e’er I was, as fat and flourishing.
[_Aside._
Black Knight, expect a wonder ere’t be long,
Thou shalt see me one of the Black House shortly.
B. KNIGHT. Your holiness is merry with the messenger;
Too happy to be true; you speak what should be,
If natural compunction touch’d you truly.
O, you’ve drawn blood, life-blood, yea, blood of honour,
From your most dear, your primitive mother’s heart!
Your sharp invectives have been points of spears
In her sweet tender sides! The unkind wounds
Which a son gives, a son of reverence ’specially,
They rankle ten times more than th' adversary’s:
I tell you, sir, your reverend revolt
Did give the fearfull’st blow to adoration
Our cause e’er felt; it shook the very statues,
The urns and ashes of the sainted sleepers.
F. BISHOP. Forbear, or I shall melt i' th' place I
stand,
And let forth[650] a fat bishop in sad sirrop:
Suffices I am yours, when they least dream on’t;
Ambition’s fodder, power and riches, draws me:
When I smell honour, that’s the lock of hay
That leads me through the world’s field every way.
[_Exit._
B. KNIGHT. Here’s a sweet paunch to propagate belief
on,
Like the foundation of a chapel laid
Upon a quagmire! I may number him now
Amongst my inferior policies, and not shame ’em.
But let me a little solace my designs
With[651] the remembrance of some brave ones past,
To cherish the futurity of project,
Whose motion must be restless till that great work,
Call’d the possession of the earth, be ours.
Was it not I procur’d a gallant fleet[652]
From the White Kingdom to secure our coasts
Against the infidel pirate, under pretext
Of more necessitous expedition?
Who made the jails fly open,[653] without miracle,
And let the locusts out, those dangerous flies,
Whose property is to burn corn with touching?
The heretics' granaries feel it to this hour:
And now they’ve got amongst the country crops,
They stick so fast to the converted ears,
The loudest tempest that authority rouses
Will hardly shake ’em off: they have their dens
In ladies' couches—there’s[654] safe groves and fens!
Nay, were they follow’d and found out by the scent,
Palm-oil will make a pursuivant relent.
Whose policy was’t to put a silenc’d muzzle[655]
On all the barking tongue-men of the time?
Made pictures, that were dumb enough before,
Poor sufferers in that politic restraint?
My light spleen skips and shakes my ribs to think on’t.
Whilst our drifts walk uncensur’d but in thought,
A whistle or a whisper would be question’d.
In the most fortunate angle[656] of the world
The court hath held the city by the horns
Whilst I have milk’d her: I have got good sops too[657]
From country ladies for their liberties,
From some for their most vainly-hop’d preferments,
High offices in th' air. I should not live
But for this _mel aerium_, this mirth-manna.
_Enter Black Knight’s Pawn._