+Bravo.+ Boy, how sits my rapier?
+Boy.+ Close, sir, like a friend that means[323] to stick to
you.
+Bravo.+ He that will purchase honour and the name of Bravo
must, by consequence, be a brave fellow--his title requires it.
+Boy.+ But pray, sir, were you never put to the worst in your
days?
+Bravo.+ Who, I worsted? No, boy; I do manage my rapier with as
much readiness and facility as an unicorn does his antler.
+Boy.+ Sure, you must needs be very strong then.
+Bravo.+ Not so neither; 'tis courage in me. I do it by a
sleight, an activity, and by that I can control any man's point
whatsoever.
+Boy.+ Is it possible?
+Bravo.+ I tell thee, boy, I do as much surpass Hercules at
my rapier as he did me in club-fighting.[324] [I'll have you]
draw[325] a register of those men that have been forced by this
weak instrument to lay down their lives. I think it has cut
more lives than Atropos.
+Boy.+ But pray, sir, were they all your own exploits?
+Bravo.+ Indeed, boy, thou may'st question it; for, and they
were to perform again, they would hardly be done. What will
this age come to? Where be those stirring humours that were
wont to trouble the world? Peace, I think, will o'er-spread
them all like a gangrene, and men will die with a lethargy;
there's no malice extant, no jealousies, no employment to set
wickedness awork! 'tis never a dead time with me but when
there's nobody to kill.
+Boy.+ That's a miserable extremity indeed, sir.
+Bravo.+ Leave me, boy, to my meditations. [_Exit +Boy+_
_Enter +Mocinigo+._
Well, go thy ways, old Nick Machiavel, there will never be
the peer of thee for wholesome policy and good counsel. Thou
took'st pains to chalk men out the dark paths and hidden plots
of murther and deceit, and no man has the grace to follow thee;
the age is unthankful, thy principles are quite forsaken and
worn out of memory.
+Moc.+ There's a fellow walks melancholy, and that's commonly a
passion apt to entertain any mischief; discontent and honesty
seldom harbour together. How scurvily he looks, like one of the
devil's factors! I'll tempt him. By your leave, sir.
+Bravo.+ Ha!
+Moc.+ No hurt, good sir; be not so furious, I beseech you.
+Bravo.+ What are you?
+Moc.+ I am bold to disturb you, and would fain communicate a
business, if you had the patience to hear me.
+Bravo.+ Speak, what is't?
+Moc.+ You seem a man upon whom fortune, perhaps, has not cast
so favourable an aspect as you deserve.
+Bravo.+ Can you win her to look better?
+Moc.+ Though not her, yet, perhaps, a servant of hers, that
shall be as gracious to you and as profitable.
+Bravo.+ What's she?
+Moc.+ It may be you want money: there is a way to purchase it,
if you have the heart.
+Bravo.+ The heart! Hast thou the heart to speak, nay to
conceive, what I dare not undertake?
+Moc.+ A fit instrument for my purpose! How luckily has fortune
brought me to him! [_Aside._] Do you hear, sir, 'tis but the
slight killing of a man, or so--no more.
+Bravo.+ Is that all?
+Moc.+ Is that nothing?
+Bravo.+ Some queasy stomach might turn, perhaps, at such a
motion; but I am more resolved, better hardened. What is he?
For I have my several rates, salaries for blood: for a lord, so
much; for a knight, so much; a gentleman, so much; a peasant,
so much; a stranger, so much, and a native, so much.
+Moc.+ Nay, he is a gentleman, and a citizen of Venice.
+Bravo.+ Let him be what he will, and we can agree: it has
been a foolish ambition heretofore to save them, and men were
rewarded for it with garlands;[326] but I had rather destroy
one or two of them: they multiply too fast.
+Moc.+ Do you know one Signior Aurelio, then? He is the man; he
wooed my mistress, and sought to win her from me.
+Bravo.+ A warrantable cause! show me the man, and 'tis enough.
+Moc.+ And what must I give you?
+Bravo.+ At a word, thirty livres: I'll not bate you a
betso.[327]
+Moc.+ I'll give you twenty.
+Bravo.+ You bid like a chapman. Well, 'tis a hard time; in
hope of your custom hereafter, I'll take your money.
+Moc.+ There 'tis. Now for the means; how can you compass it?
Were you not best poison him, think you?
+Bravo.+ With a bullet or stiletto. Poison him! I scorn to do
things so poorly; no, I'll use valour in my villany, or I'll do
nothing.
+Moc.+ You speak honourably: and, now I think on't, what if you
beat him well-favouredly, and spare his life?
+Bravo.+ Beat him! stay there; I'll kill him for this sum, but
I'll not beat him for thrice the value; so he might do as much
for me: no, I'll leave him impotent for all thought of revenge.
_Enter +Lucretia+._
+Moc.+ Well, sir, use your pleasure. Look you, here's the
gentlewoman for whose sake it is done. Lady, you are come most
opportunely to be a witness of my love and zeal to you; he is
the man that will do the feat.
+Luc.+ What feat?
+Moc.+ That you and I consulted of; kill the rascal Aurelio,
take him out of the way: what should he live any longer for?
I'll have no man breathe that you disgust.
+Luc.+ Then ought you to go and hang yourself.
+Moc.+ Who, I hang myself! for what? my good service and
respect to your quiet? If he have any mind to haunt your
chamber hereafter, he shall do it as a ghost, without any
substantial shape, I assure you.
+Luc.+ I think the fool is in earnest: I must use policy,
and not play away a man's life so. [_Aside._] Nay, prythee,
sweetheart, be not angry, 'twas but to try thee: this kiss and
my love. [_Kisses him._
+Moc.+ Why, here's some amends yet: now 'tis as it should be.
+Luc.+ I am as deep and eager in this purpose
As you are, therefore grant me leave a little
To talk with him: I have some private counsel
To give him for the better execution.
+Moc.+ May I not hear?
+Luc.+ No, as you love me, go.
+Moc.+ Her humour must be law: we that are suitors
Must deal with women as with towns besieg'd,
Offer them fair conditions till you get them,
And then we'll tyrannise. Yet there's a doubt
Is not resolv'd on.
+Luc.+ Good sir, begone.
+Moc.+ I vanish. Were I best trust this fellow with my mistress?
Temptations may arise: 'tis all one, I am
A right Italian, and the world shall see
That my revenge is above jealousy. [_Exit._
+Bravo.+ Now, lady, your pleasure?
+Luc.+ I would not allow myself any conference with you, did
my reason persuade me that you were as bad as you seem to be.
Pray, what are you?
+Bravo.+ I am, sweet creature, a kind of lawless
justicer,[328] or usurping martialist of authority, that will
kill any man with my safety.
+Luc.+ And you purpose the death of this gentleman?
+Bravo.+ I will do anything for hire.
+Luc.+ Have you no conscience?
+Bravo.+ Conscience! I know not what it is.
Why should any man live, and I want money?
+Luc.+ Have you no regard then of innocence?
+Bravo.+ 'Tis crime enough he has a life.
+Luc.+ How long have you been vers'd in this trade?
+Bravo.+ 'Tis my vocation.
+Luc.+ Leave it; 'tis damnable;
And thou the worst and basest of all villains:
It had been better for the womb that bare thee,
If it had travail'd with a pestilence.
What seed of tigers could beget thee to
Such bold and rash attempts for a small lucre,
Which will be straight as ill-spent as 'twas got,
To destroy that whose essence is divine;
Souls, in themselves more pure than are the heavens,
Or thy ill-boding stars; more worth than all
The treasure lock'd up in the heart of earth;
And yet do this unmov'd or unprovok'd.
+Bravo.+ I have no other means nor way of living.
+Luc.+ 'Twere better perish than be so supported;
There are a thousand courses to subsist by.
+Bravo.+ Ay, but a free and daring spirit scorns
To stoop to servile ways, but will choose rather
To purchase his revenue from his sword.
+Luc.+ I see you are grown obdurate in your crimes,
Founded to vice, lost to all piety;
Without the apprehension of what wrong
You do your country in depriving her
Of those she now enjoys as useful members,
And killing their posterity who, perhaps,
Might with their art or industry advance her.
+Bravo.+ What courteous itch, I wonder, has possess'd
Your virtuous ladyship to give me advice?
Best keep your wits until you get a husband,
Who may perhaps require your learned counsel.
+Luc.+ 'Tis true, such as do act thy villanies,
Hate to be told or think of them; but hear me.
Hast thou no sense nor no remorse of soul?
No thought of any Deity who, though
It spare thee for awhile, will send at last
A quick return of vengeance on thy head,
And dart thee down like Phaeton?
+Bravo.+ Sweet virgin,
Faces[329] about to some other discourse:
I cannot relish this.
+Luc.+ So I believe; but yet
Compose your thoughts for speedy penitence,
Your life for an amendment, or I vow
To lay your actions open to the senate.
+Bravo.+ Did not your sweetheart tempt me to this deed,
And will you now betray me?
+Luc.+ He my sweetheart!
I hate you both alike: that very word
Is enough to divorce thee from my pity
Past hope of reconcilement; for what mercy
Is to be had of two such prodigies?
Will you recant yet? speak, will you be honest?
+Bravo.+ I think you'll force me to become your patient.
+Luc.+ It is the way to heal thee of a sore,
Whose cure is supernatural. What art,
What mirror is sufficient to demonstrate
The foulness of thy guilt, whose leprous mind
Is but one stain seas cannot cleanse? Why, murder,
'Tis of all vices the most contrary
To every virtue and humanity;
For they intend the pleasure and delight,
But this the dissolution, of nature.
+Bravo.+ She does begin to move me. [_Aside._
+Luc.+ Think of thy sin,
It is the heir-apparent unto hell.
And has so many and so ugly shapes,
His father Pluto and the furies hate
To look on their own birth: yet thou dar'st act
What they fear to suggest, and sell thy soul
To quick perdition.
+Bravo.+ This has wak'd me more
Into a quicker insight of my evils,
That have impal'd me round with horrid shapes,
More various than the sev'ral forms of dreams,
That wait on Morpheus in his sleepy den.
+Luc.+ Then, 'tis a fearful sin, and always labours
With the new birth of damn'd inventions
And horrid practices: for 'tis so fearful,
It dares not walk alone, and where it bides
There is no rest nor no security,
But a perpetual tempest of despair.
+Bravo.+ All this I feel by sad experience.
Where have I been, where have I liv'd a stranger,
Exil'd from all good thoughts? Never till now
Did any beam of grace or good shine on me.
+Luc.+ Besides, 'tis so abhorr'd of all that's good
That, when this monster lifts his cursed head
Above the earth, and wraps it in the clouds,
The sun flies back, as loth to stain his rays
With such a foul pollution; and night,
In emulation of so black a deed,
Puts on her darkest robe to cover it.
+Bravo.+ O, do not grate too much upon my suff'rings!
You have won upon my conscience, and I feel
A sting within me tells my troubled soul,
That I have trod too long those bloody paths,
That lead unto destruction.
+Luc.+ Then be sorry,
And with repentance purge away thy sin.
+Bravo.+ Will all my days and hours consum'd in prayers,
My eyes dissolv'd to tears, wash off such crimes?
+Luc.+ If they be serious and continued.
+Bravo.+ You are a virgin, and your vows are chaste;
Do you assist me.
+Luc.+ So you'll do the like
For me in what I shall propose.
+Bravo.+ I will,
And joy to be employ'd: there is no thought,
Which can proceed from you, but which is virtuous;
And 'tis a comfort and a kind of goodness
To mix with you in any action.
+Luc.+ Nay more, in recompense of your fair proffer,
Because you say you are destitute of means,
I'll see that want supply'd.
+Bravo.+ Divinest lady,
Command my service.
+Luc.+ Walk then in with me,
And then I will acquaint you with the project. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Duke+, +Lionel+, and +Leonardo+, +Petrucio+
following._
+Duke.+ I see him coming: let's fall into admiration of his
good parts, that he may over-hear his own praise.
+Lio.+ I have, methinks, a longing desire to meet with Signior
Petrucio.
+Pet.+ I hear myself named amongst them. 'Tis no point of
civility to listen what opinion the world holds of me, I shall
conceive it by their discourse: a man behind his back shall be
sure to have nothing but truth spoke of him. [_Aside._
+Leo.+ Pray, sir, when saw you that thrice noble and
accomplished gentleman Petrucio?
+Pet.+ Thrice noble and accomplish'd! there's a new style
thrust upon me. [_Aside._
+Duke.+ It pleased the indulgency of my fate to bless me
with his company this morning, where he himself was no less
favourable to grace me with the perusal of a madrigal or an
essay of beauty, which he had then newly compos'd.
+Lio.+ Well, gallants, either my understanding misinforms me,
or he is one of the most rare and noble-qualified pieces of
gentility, that ever did enrich our climate.
+Leo.+ Believe it, sir, 'twere a kind of profanation to make
doubt of the contrary.
+Pet.+ How happy am I in such acquaintance! A man shall have
his due, when your meaner society has neither judgment to
discern worth, nor credit to commend it. [_Aside._
+Duke.+ 'Twas my happiness, th' other day, to be in the
presence with certain ladies, where I heard him the most
extolled and approved: one of them was not ashamed to pronounce
it openly, that she would never desire more of heaven, than to
enjoy such a man for her servant.
+Pet.+ It shall be my next employment to inquire out for that
lady. [_Aside._
+Lio.+ 'Tis a miracle to me how, in so small a competency
of time, he should arrive to such an absolute plenitude of
perfection.
+Leo.+ No wonder at all; a man that has travelled, and been
careful of his time.
+Lio.+ But, by your favour, sir, 'tis not every man's happiness
to make so good use on't.
+Duke.+ I'll resolve you something: there is as great a mystery
in the acquisition of knowledge, as of wealth. Have you not a
citizen will grow rich in a moment, and why not he ingenious?
Besides, who knows but he might have digged for it, and so
found out some concealed treasure of understanding.
+Pet.+ Now, as I am truly noble, 'tis a wrongful imputation
upon me. [_Aside._
+Leo.+ Well, if he had but bounty annexed to his other
sufficiencies, he were unparalleled.
+Duke.+ Nay, there's no man in the earth more liberal: take it
upon my word, he has not that thing in the world so dear or
precious in his esteem, which he will not most willingly part
with upon the least summons of his friend.
+Pet.+ Now must I give away some two or three hundred pounds'
worth of toys, to maintain this assertion. [_Aside._
+Lio.+ You spoke of verses e'en now; if you have the copy, pray
vouchsafe us a sight of them.
+Duke.+ I cannot suddenly resolve you: yes, here they are.
+Lio.+ What's this?
A MADRIGAL OF BEAUTY.
_If I should praise her virtue and her beauty,
as 'tis my duty;
And tell how every grace doth her become:
'tis ten to one,
But I should fail in the expression._
+Leo.+ Ay marry, sir, this sounds something like excellent.
+Lio.+
_Then, by your leave,
Although I cannot write what I conceive;
'tis my desire,
That what I fail to speak, you would admire._
+Leo.+ Why, this has some taste in't: how should he arrive to
this admirable invention?
+Duke.+ Are you so preposterous in your opinion, to think that
wit and elegancy in writing are only confined to stagers and
book-worms? 'Twere a solecism to imagine that a young bravery,
who lives in the perpetual sphere of humanity, where every
waiting-woman speaks perfect Arcadia,[330] and the ladies lips
distil with the very quintessence of conceit, should be so
barren of apprehension, as not to participate of their virtues.
+Leo.+ Now I consider, they are great helps to a man.
+Duke.+ But when he has travelled, and delibated the
French[331] and the Spanish; can lie a-bed, and expound
_Astræa_,[332] and digest him into compliments; and when he is
up, accost his mistress with what he had read in the morning;
now, if such a one should rack up his imagination, and give
wings to his muse, 'tis credible, he should more catch your
delicate court-ear, than all you head-scratchers, thumb-biters,
lamp-wasters of them all.
+Leo.+ Well, I say the iniquity of fortune appears in nothing
more, than not advancing that man to some extraordinary honours.
+Lio.+ But I never thought he had any genius that way.
+Duke.+ What, because he has been backward to produce his good
qualities? Believe it, poetry will out; it can no more be hid
than fire or love.
+Pet.+ I'll break them off, they have e'en spoken enough in
my behalf for nothing, o' conscience. [_Aside._] Save you,
Cavalieros!
+Duke.+ My much honoured Petrucio, you are welcome; we were
now entered into a discourse of your worth. Whither do your
occasions enforce you so fast?
+Pet.+ Gentlemen, to tell you true, I am going upon some
raptures.
+Leo.+ Upon raptures, say you.
+Pet.+ Yes, my employment is tripartite: I have here an anagram
to a lady I made of her name this morning, with a poesy to
another, that must be inserted into a ring; and here's a paper
carries a secret word too, that must be given, and worn by a
knight and tilter; and all my own imaginations, as I hope to be
blessed.
+Lio.+ Is't possible? how, have you lately drunk of the
horsepond,[333] or stepped on the forked Parnassus, that you
start out so sudden a poet?
+Pet.+ Tut! I leave your Helicons and your pale Pirenes,[334]
to such as will look after them. For my own part, I follow the
instigation of my brain, and scorn other helps.
+Lio.+ Do you so?
+Pet.+ I'll justify it: the multiplicity of learning does but
distract a man. I am all for your modern humours, and when I
list to express a passion, it flows from me with that spring of
amorous conceits, that a true lover may hang his head over, and
read in it the very phys'nomy of his affection.
+Duke.+ Why, this is a rare mirror! [_Aside._
+Leo.+ 'Tis so indeed, and beyond all the art of optics.
[_Aside._
+Pet.+ And when my head labours with the pangs of delivery, by
chance up comes a countess's waiting-woman, at whose sight, as
at the remembrance of a mistress, my pen falls out of my hand;
and then do I read to her half-a-dozen lines, whereat we both
sit together, and melt into tears.
+Leo.+ Pitiful-hearted creatures! [_Aside._
+Pet.+ I am now about a device that this gentleman has promis'd
shall be presented before his highness.
+Duke.+ Yes, upon my word, sir, and yourself with it.
+Pet.+ Shall the duke take notice of me too? O heavens! how you
transport me with the thought on't!
+Duke.+ I'll bring you to him, believe me, and you know not
what grace he may do you.
+Pet.+ 'Tis a happiness beyond mortals! I cannot tell, it may
be my good fortune to advance you all.
+Lio.+ We shall be glad to have dependence on you.
+Pet.+ Gentles, I would intreat you a courtesy.
+Duke.+ What's that, signior?
+Pet.+ That you would be all pleas'd to grace my lodging
to-morrow at a banquet: there will be ladies and gallants; and
among the rest, I'll send to invite your uncle the Antiquary;
and we'll be very merry, I assure you.
+Leo.+ Well, sir, your bounty commands us not to fail you.
+Pet.+ Bounty! there's a memorandum for me. [_Writes in his
note-book._] In the meantime, pray accept these few favours at
my hands,[335] as assurances that you will not fail me; till
when, I take my leave. [_Exit._
+Lio.+ Farewell, sir. Go thy ways; thou hast as dull a piece of
scalp as ere covered the brain of any traveller. [_Aside._
+Duke.+ For love's sake, Lionel, let's haste to thy uncle,
before the coxcomb prevent us.
+Lio.+ Why, sir, I stay for you.
+Leo.+ Has Petro prepar'd him for your entrance, and is your
disguise fit?
+Lio.+ I have all in readiness.
+Duke.+ On then, and when you are warm in your discourse, we'll
come with our device to affright him: 'twill be an excellent
scene of affliction.
+Leo.+ Be sure you mark your cue, sir, and do not fail to
approach.
+Duke.+ Trust to my care, I warrant you. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Aurelio+ and +Servant+._
+Aur.+ A gentlewoman without speak with me, say you?
+Ser.+ Yes, sir, and will by no means be put back.
+Aur.+ I am no lawyer, nor no secretary: what business can she
have here, I wonder?
+Ser.+ She is very importunate to enter.
+Aur.+ I was once in the humour never to admit any of them
to come near me again, but since she is so eager, let her
approach. I'll try my strength, what proof 'tis against her
enchantments: if ever Ulysses were more provident, or better
arm'd to sail by the Sirens, I'll perish; if she have the art
to impose upon me, let her beg my wit for an anatomy, and
dissect it!
_Enter +Lucretia+._
Now, Lady Humour, what new emotion in the blood has turn'd the
tide of your fancy to come hither?
+Luc.+ These words are but unkind salutes to a gentlewoman.
+Aur.+ They are too good for you. With what face dare you
approach hither, knowing how infinitely you have abused me? You
want matter to exercise your wits on; the world's too wise for
you; and, ere you ensnare me again, you'll have good luck.
+Luc.+ Pray, sir, do not reiterate those things which might
better be forgotten. I confess I have done ill, because I am a
woman and young, and 'will be nobleness in you not to remember
it.
+Aur.+ I'll sooner plough up [the] shore and sow it, and live
in expectation of a crop, before I'll think the least good
from any of your sex, while I breathe again.
+Luc.+ I hope, sir, that time and experience will rectify your
judgment to a better opinion of us.
+Aur.+ I'll trust my ship to a storm, my substance to a broken
citizen, ere I'll credit any of you.
+Luc.+ Good sir, be intreated: I come a penitent lover, with
a vow'd recantation to all former practices and malicious
endeavours, that I have wrought against you.
+Aur.+ How can I think better of you, when I consider your
nature, your pride, your treachery, your covetousness, your
lust; and how you commit perjury easier than speak?
+Luc.+ Sure, 'tis no desert in us, but your own misguided
thoughts that move in you this passion.
+Aur.+ Indeed, time was I thought you pretty foolish things
to play withal, and was so blinded as to imagine that your
hairs were golden threads,[336] that your eyes darted forth
beams, that laughter sat smiling on your lips, and the coral
itself looked pale to them: that you moved like a goddess, and
diffused your pleasures wide as the air: then could I prevent
the rising sun[337] to wait on you, observed every nod you
cast forth, had the patience to hear your discourse, and
admired you, when you talked of your visits, of the court, of
councils, of nobility, and of your ancestors.
+Luc.+ And were not these pleasing to you?
+Aur.+ Nothing but a heap of tortures: but since I have learned
the Delphic Oracle, to _know myself_, and ponder what a deal of
mischief you work, I am content to live private and solitary,
without any pensive thought what you do, or what shall become
of you.
+Luc.+ Sir, if you calculate all occasions, I have not merited
this neglect from you.
+Aur.+ Yes, and more. Do you not remember what tasks you
were wont to put me to, and expenses? when I bestowed on you
gowns and petticoats, and you in exchange gave me bracelets
and shoe-ties? how you fooled me sometimes, and set me to pin
plaits in your ruff, two hours together, and made a waiting
frippery of me? how you racked my brain to compose verses for
you--a thing I could never abide? Nay, in my conscience, and I
had not took courage, you had brought me to spin, and beat me
with your slippers.
+Luc.+ Well, sir, I perceive you are resolved to hear no
reason; but, before my sorrowful departure, know she that you
slight is the preserver of your life; therefore I dare be bold
to call you ingrate, and in that I have spoke all that can be
ill in man.[338]
+Aur.+ Pray, stay; come back a little.
+Luc.+ Not till you are better-tempered. What I have revealed
is true; and though you prove unthankful, good deeds reward
themselves: the conscience of the fact shall pay my virtue. So
I leave you. [_Exit._
+Aur.+ That I should owe my life to her! which way, I wonder?
Something depends on this, I must win out: well, I will not
forswear it, but the toy may take me in the head, and I may see
her. [_Exit._
_Enter +Antiquary+ and +Petro+._
+Ant.+ Has he such rare things, say you?
+Pet.+ Yes, sir, I believe you have not seen the like of them:
they are a couple of old manuscripts, found in a wall,[339] and
stored up with the foundation; it may be they are the writings
of some prophetess.
+Ant.+ What moves you to think so, Petro?
+Pet.+ Because, sir, the characters are so imperfect;
for time has eaten out the letters, and the dust makes a
parenthesis[340] betwixt every syllable.
+Ant.+ A shrewd, convincing argument! this fellow has a notable
reach with him. Go, bid him enter. A hundred to one some fool
has them in possession that knows not their value: it may be a
man may purchase them for little or nothing----
_Enter +Lionel+, like a scholar, with two books._
Come near, friend, let me see what you have there. Umph, 'tis,
as I said, they are of the old Roman binding. What's the price
of these?
+Lio.+ I would be loth, sir, to sell them under rate, only to
merit laughter for my rashness; therefore I thought good to
bestow them on you, and refer myself to your wisdom and free
nature for my satisfaction.
+Ant.+ You say well; then am I bound again in conscience to
deal justly with you: will five hundred crowns content you?
+Lio.+ I'll demand no more, sir.
+Ant.+ Petro, see them delivered. Now I need not fear to tell
you what they are: this is a book _de Republica_, 'tis Marcus
Tullius Cicero's own hand writing; I have some other books of
his penning give me assurance of it.[341]
+Pet.+ And what's the other, sir?
+Ant.+ This other is a book of mathematics, that was long lost
in darkness, and afterwards restored by Ptolemy.
+Lio.+ I wonder, sir, unless you were Time's secretary, how you
should arrive to this intelligence.
+Ant.+ I know it by more than inspiration. You had them out of
a wall, you say.
+Lio.+ Yes, sir.
+Ant.+ Well, then, however you came by them, they were first
brought to Venice by Cardinal Grimani,[342] a patriarch, and
were digged out of the ruins of Aquileia, after it was sacked
by Attila king of the Huns.
+Lio.+ This to me is wonderful.
+Ant.+ Petro, I mean to retire, and give myself wholly to
contemplation of these studies; and because nothing shall
hinder me, I mean to lease out my lands and live confined:
inquire me out a chapman that will take them of me.
+Lio.+ If you please to let them, sir, I will help you to a
tenant.
+Ant.+ Will you, sir? with all my heart, and I'll afford him
the better bargain for your sake.
+Pet.+ He may pay the rent with counters, and make him believe
they are antiquities.
+Ant.+ What's the yearly rent of them, Petro?
+Pet.+ They have been racked, sir, to three thousand crowns;
but the old rent was never above fifteen hundred.
+Ant.+ Go to, you have said enough; I'll have no more than the
old rent. Name your man, and the indentures shall be drawn.
+Lio.+ Before I propose that, sir, I thought good to acquaint
you with a specialty I found among other writings which, having
a seal to it and a name subscribed, does most properly belong
to you.
+Ant.+ Let me see it. What's here? Signior Giovanni Veterano di
Monte Nigro! He was my great grandfather, and this is an old
debt of his that remains yet uncancelled. You could never have
pleased me better to my cost: this ought, in conscience, to be
discharged, and I'll see it satisfied the first thing I do.
Come along.
+Pet.+ Will you afford your nephew no exhibition out of your
estate, sir?
+Ant.+ Not a sol; not a gazet.[343] I have articles to propose
before the senate shall disinherit him.
+Lio.+ Have you, sir? Not justly, I hope. Pray, what are they?
+Ant.+ One of them is, he sent me letters beyond sea, dated
_Stilo Novo._[344]
+Lio.+ That was a great oversight.
+Ant.+ Then you remember, Petro, he took up commodities,
new-fashioned stuffs, when he was under age, too, that he might
cosen his creditors.
+Pet.+ Yes, sir.
+Ant.+ And afterwards found out a new way to pay them, too.
+Lio.+ He served them but in their kind, sir: perhaps they
meant to have cheated him.
+Ant.+ 'Tis all one; I'll have no such practices. But the worst
of all: one time, when I found him drunk, and chid him for his
vice, he had no way to excuse himself, but to say, he would
become a new man.
+Lio.+ That was heinously spoken, indeed!
+Ant.+ These are sufficient aggravations to any one that shall
understand my humour.
_Enter +Duke+ and +Leonardo+._
+Duke.+ Save you, sir!
+Ant.+ These gentlemen shall be witnesses to the bonds. You are
very welcome!
+Duke.+ I hardly believe it, when you hear our message.
+Ant.+ Why, I beseech you?
+Duke.+ I am sorry to be made the unkind instrument to wrong
you; but since 'tis a task imposed from so great a command, I
hope you will the easier be induced to dispense with me.
+Ant.+ Come nearer to your aim: I understand you not.
+Duke.+ Then thus, sir: the duke has been informed of your
rarities; and holding them an unfit treasure for a private man
to possess, he hath sent his mandamus to take them from you.
See, here's his hand for the delivery.
+Ant.+ O, O!
+Leo.+ What ails you, sir?
+Ant.+ I am struck with a sudden sickness: some good man help
to keep my soul in, that is rushing from me, and will by no
means be entreated to continue!
+Lio.+ Pray, sir, be comforted.
+Ant.+ Comfort! no, I despise it: he has given me daggers to my
heart!
+Leo.+ Show yourself a man, sir, and contemn the worst of
fortune.
+Ant.+ Good sir, could not you have invented a less studied way
of torture to take away my life?
+Duke.+ I hope 'twill not work so deeply with you.
+Ant.+ Nay, and 'twould stop there, 'twere well; but 'tis a
punishment will follow me after death, and afflict me worse
than a fury.
+Leo.+ I much pity the gentleman's case.
+Ant.+ Think what 'tis to lose a son when you have brought him
up, or, after a seven years' voyage, to see your ship sink in
the harbour!
+Duke.+ 'Twere a woeful spectacle, indeed!
+Ant.+ They are but tickling to this: I have been all my life
a-gathering what I must now lose in a moment. The sacking of a
city is nothing to be compared with it.
+Leo.+ And that's lamentable.
+Ant.+ 'Twill but only give you a light to conceive of my
misery.
+Lio.+ Pray, sir, be not importunate to take them this time;
but try rather, if by any means you can revoke the decree.
+Duke.+ 'Twill be somewhat dangerous; but, for your sake, I'll
try.
+Ant.+ Shall I hope any comfort? Then, upon my credit,
gentlemen, I'll appoint you all mine heirs, so soon as I am
dead.
+Duke.+ You speak nobly.
+Ant.+ Nay, and because you shall not long gape after it, I'll
die within a month, and set you down all joint executors.
+Lio.+ But when you are freed from the terror of his
imposition, will you not recant?
+Ant.+ Nay, and you doubt me, walk along, and I'll confirm't
upon you instantly. [_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[323] [Old copy, _meant_.]
[324] Thus Armado, in "Love's Labour's Lost," edit. 1778, vol. ii. p.
394: "I do excel Samson in my rapier as much as he did me in carrying
gates."--_Steevens._
[325] [Edits., _Have you ... drawn_; but the speaker evidently does not
intend to ask the boy whether _he_ has drawn the register.]
[326] The Romans bestowed an oaken wreath on him who had preserved the
life of a citizen. The mother of Coriolanus, in Shakespeare, boasts
that he "returned, his brows bound with oak."--_Steevens._
[327] A coin of the least value of any current in Venice; it was
worth no more than half a sol, that is, near a farthing. See Coriat's
"Crudities," 1611, p. 286.
[328] This expression puts one in mind of Bacon's description of
Revenge, when he says that it is "wild justice." A _Bravo_ is a
revenger of injuries, and may therefore very fitly be called a _lawless
justicer_.--_Collier._
[329] See note to "The Parson's Wedding," _post_.
[330] The romance by Sir Philip Sydney.
[331] _i.e._, Had a taste of, _Delibo_, Lat. So Claudian. _B. Get._
351, "Contentus _delibasse_ cibos."--_Steevens._
[332] [A French romance by Honorè d'Urfè, which had been translated
into English in 1620. It was formerly very popular. Another translation
was made in 1657-8, 3 vols. folio.]
[333] [Hippocrene.] So Persius: "Fonte labra prolui
_Caballino_."--_Steevens._
[334] So Persius: "Pallidamque Pyrenen."--_Steevens._
[335] [He probably distributes among them some of his MSS. verses.]
[336] "That your _hairs_ were golden threads," is the true reading; but
Mr Reed allowed it to stand, "that your _hearts_ were golden threads,"
which is nonsense, or very near it. Shakespeare has the same expression
in his "Rape of Lucrece"--
"Her _hair, like golden threads_, play'd with her breath."
--_Collier._
[337] _i.e._, Go before. So in the 119th Psalm: "Mine eyes _prevent_
the night watches."--_Steevens._
Again, in the office of consecrating Cramp Rings: "We beseech thee, O
Lord, that the Spirit which proceeds from thee may _prevent_ and follow
in our desires," &c.--_Reed._
One of the Collects of the Church Service begins, "_Prevent_ us, O
Lord, in all our doings."--_Collier._
[338] Alluding to the ancient aphorism, _Ingratus si dixeris, omnia
dixeris._
[339] [Possibly the author had in his recollection Wimbeldon's "Godlie
Sermon," preached at Paul's Cross in 1388, and "found out hyd in a
wall;" printed in 1584.]
[340] This is borrowed from the character of an Antiquary, in [Earle's]
"Micro-Cosmographie, or a Piece of the World Discovered," 12º, 1628:
"Printed books he contemnes as a novelty of this latter age; but a
manuscript he pores on everlastingly, especially if the cover be all
moth-eaten, and _the dust make a parenthesis between every syllable_."
[341] [The antiquary was fortunate in the possession of what is still
unknown in a complete state. Fragments, recovered from a palimpsest,
have been printed by Cardinal Mai.]
[342] [Old copy, _Girmanus_.]
[343] A _gazet_, says Coriat (p. 286), "is almost a penny; whereof ten
doe make a liver, that is, nine pence." Newspapers being originally
sold for that piece of money, acquired their present name of
_Gazettes_.--See Junius "Etymol." voce Gazette.
[344] The manner of dating letters from abroad, before the alteration
of the calendar, according to the reformation of it by Pope Gregory
XIII. In "The Woman's Prize; or, the Tamer Tam'd," by Beaumont and
Fletcher [Dyce's edit. vii. 194], Maria says to Petruchio, who had
threatened to travel, in order to be rid of her--
"I do commit your reformation;
And so I leave you to your _stilo novo_."
--[Act. iv. sc. 5.]
ACT IV., SCENE I.
_Enter +Æmilia+ and +Angelia+, disguised._
+Æmi.+ Why, gentle boy, think what a happy bliss
Thou shalt enjoy, before thou know'st what 'tis!
+Ang.+ 'Twill be a dear experiment, to waste
My prime and flower of youth, and suffer all
Those liquid sweats to be extracted from me
By the hot influence of consuming lust,
Only to find how well you can express
What skilful arts are hid in wickedness!
+Æmi.+ Thou dream'st, fond boy: those sweets of youth and beauty
Were lent, to be employ'd upon their like;
And when they both do meet, and are extinguish'd,
From their mix'd heat a rich perfume shall rise,
And burn, to love a grateful sacrifice.
+Ang.+ But I'll not be so prodigal to lavish
Such gifts away, that be irrevocable
And yet the first that leave us.
+Æmi.+ 'Twill be ne'er exacted,
How soon you have bestow'd them, but how well.
What good or profit can a hidden treasure[345]
Do more than feed the miser's greedy eye,
When, if 'twere well bestow'd, it might enrich
The owner and the user of it? Such
Is youth and nature's bounty, that receive
A gain from the expense; but, were there none
But a mere damage, yet the pleasure of it
And the delight would recompense the loss.
+Ang.+ Whate'er the pleasure be or the delight,
I am too young, not plum'd for such a flight.
+Æmi.+ Too young? a poor excuse! alas, your will
Is weaker than your power. No one can be
Too young to learn good acts; and, for my part,
I am not taken with a boisterous sinew,
A brawny limb or back of Hercules,
But with a soft delicious beauty; such
As people, looking on his doubtful sex,
Might think him male or female.
+Ang.+ I cannot blame
These just Italians, to lock up their wives,
That are so free and dissolute: they labour
Not with their country's heat more than their own.
Will you be satisfied? I am too young.
+Æmi.+ Too young! I like you the better. There is a price
Due to the early cherry: the first apples
Deserve more grace: the budding rose is set by;
But, stale and fully-blown, is left for vulgars
To rub their sweaty fingers on. Too young!
As well you may affirm the tender tree
Too young to graft upon; or you may say,
The rising sun's too young to court the day.
+Ang.+ But there are bonds Hymen has laid upon you,
Keep us asunder.
+Æmi.+ Those are only toys,
Shadows, mere apparitions of doubt
To affright children. Do but yield unto me,
My arms shall be thy sphere to wander in,
Circled about with spells to charm these fears;
And when thou sleep'st, Cupid shall crown thy slumbers[346]
With thousand shapes of lustful dalliance:
Then will I bathe thee in ambrosia,
And from my lips distil such nectar on thee,
Shall make thy flesh immortal.
_Enter +Lorenzo+._
+Lor.+ How now, wife, is this your exercise?
Wife, did I say? Stain of my blood and issue,
The great antipathy unto my nature,
Courting your paramour! Death to my honour!
What have I seen and heard? Curse of my fate!
Would I had first been deaf, or thou struck dumb,
Before this Gorgon, this damn'd vision,
Had numb'd my faculties.
+Æmi.+ What have you seen
Or heard more than a dialogue I read
This morning in a book?
+Lor.+ Would thou and that book
Were both burnt for heretics! You genial powers,
Why did you send this serpent to my bosom,
To pierce me through with greater cruelty
Than Cleopatra felt from stings of adders?
Hence from my sight, thou venom to my eyes!
Would I could look thee dead, or with a frown
Dissect thee into atoms, and then hurl them
About the world to cast infection,
And blister all they light on!
+Æmi.+ You are mad,
And rave without a cause.
+Lor.+ O heavens! she means
To justify her sin! Can'st thou redeem
Thy lost fame and my wrongs?
+Æmi.+ No, sir, I'll leave you;
You are too passionate.
+Ang.+ Pray, sir, be satisfied; we meant no hurt.
+Lor.+ What charm held back my hand, I did not let
Her foul blood out, then throw't into the air,
Whence it might mount up to the higher region,
And there convert into some fearful meteor,
To threaten all her kindred? Stay, sweet child,
For thou art virtuous: yet go, however;
Thou putt'st me in remembrance of some ill.
Diana blush'd Actæon to a stag: [_Exit +Ang.+_
What shall lust do? Chastity made horns!
I shall be grafted with a horrid pair;
And between every branch a written scroll
Shall speak my shame, that foot-boys shall discern it,
And sailors read it, as they pass along!
If I bear this, I have no soul nor spleen.
I must invent some mischief. Smallest cares
Are talkative, whilst great ones silent are.[347] [_Exit._
_Enter +Æmilia+._
+Æmi.+ What have I done, that with a clue of lust
Have wrought myself in such a labyrinth,
Whence I shall ne'er get free? There is no wrong
Like to the breach of wedlock: those injuries
Are writ in marble, time shall ne'er rase out.
The hearts of such, if they be once divided,
Will ne'er grow one again: sooner you may
Call the spent day, or bid the stream return,
That long since slid beside you. I am lost;
Quite forfeited to shame, which till I felt,
I ne'er foresaw; so was the less prepared.
But yet, they say, a woman's wit is sudden,
And quick at an excuse. I was too foolish.
Had he confounded heaven and earth with oaths,
I might have sworn him down, or wept so truly,
That he should sooner question his own eyes,
Than my false tears: this had been worth the acting:
Or else I might have stood to the defence on't,
Been angry, and took a courage from my crimes;
But I was tame and ignorant!
_Enter +Lionel+._
+Lio.+ Save you, lady!
+Æmi.+ O signior Lionel, you have undone me.
+Lio.+ Who, I! Which way?
+Æmi.+ The boy you brought my husband.
+Lio.+ Ay, what of him?
+Æmi.+ He is a witch, a thief,
That has stol'n all my honours. His smooth visage
Seem'd like a sea becalm'd or a safe harbour,
Where love might ride securely, but was found
A dangerous quick-sand, wherein are perish'd
My hopes and fortunes, by no art or engine
To be weigh'd up again.
+Lio.+ Instruct me how?
+Æmi.+ Teach me the way then, that I may relate
My own ill story with as great a boldness
As I did first conceive, and after act it.
What wicked error led my wand'ring thoughts
To gaze on his false beauty, that has prov'd
The fatal minute of my mind's first ruin?
Shall I be brief?
+Lio.+ What else?
+Æmi.+ How can I speak,
Or plead with hope, that have so bad a cause!
+Lio.+ You torture me too much: the fear of evil
Is worse than the event.
+Æmi.+ Then, though my heart
Abhor the memory, I'll tell it out.--
The boy I mentioned (whatever power
Did lay on me so sad a punishment)
I did behold him with a lustful eye,
And, which is the perfection of sin,
Did woo him to my will.
+Lio.+ Well, what of that?
You are not the first offender in that kind.
+Æmi.+ My suit no sooner ended, but came in
My jealous husband.
+Lio.+ That was something indeed!
+Æmi.+ Who overheard us all.
+Lio.+ A shrewd mischance!
+Æmi.+ Judge with what countenance he did behold me,
Or I view him, that had so great a guilt
Hang on my brow. My looks and hot desire
Both fell together; whilst he, big with anger,
And swol'n high with revenge, hastes from my presence,
Only to study how to inflict some torture,
Which I stay to expect: and here you see
The suffering object of his cruelty.
+Lio.+ Methinks it were an easy thing for one
That were ingenious, to retort all
On his own head, and make him ask forgiveness.
+Æmi.+ That would be a scene indeed!
+Lio.+ I have been fortunate
In such turns in my days.
+Æmi.+ Could you do this,
I'd swear you had more wit than Mercury,
Or his son Autolycus[348] that was able
To change black into white.
+Lio.+ Do not despair:
I have a genius was ne'er false to me;
If he should fail me now in these extremes,
I would not only wonder, but renounce him:
He tells me, something may be done. Be rul'd,
And if I plot not so, to make all hit,
Then you shall take the mortgage of my wit.
+Æmi.+ However, sir, you speak comfortably. [_Exeunt._
_Enter_ +Aurelio+ _above_; +Duke+ _and_ +Leonardo+ [_pass_]
_over the stage_.
+Aur.+ Good morrow, gentlemen. What, you are for the feast, I
perceive.
+Duke.+ Master Aurelio, good morrow to you. Whose chamber's
that, I pray?
+Aur.+ My own, sir, now; I thank ill fortune and a good wife.
+Duke.+ What! are you married, and your friends not
pre-acquainted? This will be construed amongst them.
+Aur.+ A stolen wedding, sir! I was glad to apprehend any
occasion, when I found her inclining. We'll celebrate the
solemnities hereafter, when there shall be nothing wanting to
make our Hymen happy and flourishing.
+Leo.+ In good time, sir. Who is your spouse, I pray?
+Aur.+ Marry, sir, a creature for whose sake I have endured
many a heat and cold, before I could vanquish her. She has
proved one of Hercules' labours to me; but time, that prefers
all things, made my long toil and affection both successful:
and, in brief, 'tis mistress Lucretia, as very a haggard as
ever was brought to fist.
+Duke.+ Indeed! I have often heard you much complain of her
coyness and disdain; what auspicious charm has now reconciled
you together?
+Aur.+ There is, sir, a critical minute in every man's wooing,
when his mistress may be won; which if he carelessly neglect
to prosecute, he may wait long enough before he gain the like
opportunity.
+Leo.+ It seems, sir, you have lighted upon't. We wish you much
joy in your fair choice.
+Aur.+ Thank you, gentlemen; and I to either of you no worse
fortune. But that my wife is not yet risen, I would intreat you
take the pains come up and visit her.
+Duke.+ No, sir, that would be uncivil; we'll wait some fitter
occasion to gratulate your rites. Good-morrow to you. [_Exeunt._
+Aur.+ Your servant! Nay, lie you still, and dare not so much
as proffer to mutter; for if you do, I vanish. Now, if you will
revolt, you may. I have laid a stain upon your honour, which
you shall wash off as well as you can.
_Enter +Lucretia+._
+Luc.+ Was this done like a gentleman, or indeed like a true
lover, to bring my name in question, and make me no less than
your whore? Was I ever married to you? Speak.
+Aur.+ No; but you may, when you please.
+Luc.+ Why were you then so impudent to proclaim such a
falsehood, and say I was your wife, and that you had lain with
me, when 'twas no such matter?
+Aur.+ Because I meant to make you so, and no man else should
do it.
+Luc.+ 'Slight, this is a device to over-reach a woman with! He
has madded me, and I would give a hundred crowns I could scold
out my anger. [_Aside._
+Aur.+ Come, there's no injury done to you but what lies in my
power to make whole again.
+Luc.+ Your power to make whole! I'll have no man command me so
far. What can any lawful jury judge of my honesty, upon such
proofs as these, when they shall see a gentleman making himself
ready[349] so early, and saluting them out of the chamber,
whither (like a false man) thou hast stolen in by the bribery
of my servant? Is this no scandal?
+Aur.+ 'Twas done on purpose, and I am glad my inventions
thrive so; therefore do not stand talking, but resolve.
+Luc.+ What should I resolve?
+Aur.+ To marry me for the safeguard of your credit, and that
suddenly; for I have made a vow that, unless you will do it
without delay, I'll not have you at all.
+Luc.+ Some politician counsel me! There's no such torment to a
woman, though she affect a thing ever so earnestly, yet to be
forced to it.
+Aur.+ What, are you agreed?
+Luc.+ Well, you are a tyrant, lead on: what must be, must
be; but if there were any other way in the earth to save my
reputation, I'd never have thee.
+Aur.+ Then I must do you a courtesy against your will. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Petrucio+ and +Cook+._
+Pet.+ Come, honest cook, let me see how thy imagination has
wrought, as well as thy fingers, and what curiosity thou hast
shown in the preparation of this banquet; for gluttoning
delights to be ingenious.
+Cook.+ I have provided you a feast, sir, of twelve dishes,
whereof each of them is an emblem of one of the twelve signs in
the Zodiac.
+Pet.+ Well said! Who will now deny that cookery is a mystery?
+Cook.+ Look you, sir, there is the list of them.
+Pet.+ Aries, Taurus, Gemini; good: for Aries, a dish of
lamb-stones and sweet-breads; for Taurus, a sirloin of beef;
for Gemini, a brace of pheasants; for Cancer, a buttered crab;
for Libra, a balance--in one scale a custard, in the other a
tart--that's a dish for an alderman; for Virgo, a green salad;
for Scorpio, a grand one; for Sagittarius, a pasty of venison;
for Aquarius, a goose; for Pisces, two mullets. Is that all?
+Cook.+ Read on, sir.
+Pet.+ And in the middle of the table, to have an artificial
hen, made of puff-paste, with her wings displayed, sitting upon
eggs composed of the same materials; where in each of them
shall be enclosed a fat nightingale, well seasoned with pepper
and amber-grease.[350] So then will I add one invention more
of my own; for I will have all these descend from the top of my
roof in a throne, as you see Cupid or Mercury in a play.
+Cook.+ That will be rare indeed, sir! [_Exit._
_Enter +Duke+ and +Leonardo+._
+Pet.+ See, the guests are come; go, and make all ready.
Gentles, you are welcome.
+Duke.+ Is the Antiquary arrived, or no? can you tell, sir?
+Pet.+ Not yet, but I expect him each minute--
_Enter +Antiquary+._
See, your word has charmed him hither already!
+Duke.+ Signior, you are happily encountered, and the rather,
because I have good news to tell you: the Duke has been so
gracious as to release his demand for your antiquities.
+Ant.+ Has he? You have filled me all over with spirit, with
which I will mix sixteen glasses of wine to his health, the
first thing I do. Would I knew his highness, or had a just
occasion to present my loyalty at his feet!
+Duke.+ For that, take no thought; it shall be my care to bring
you and Signior Petrucio here both before him. I have already
acquainted him with both your worths, and for aught I can
gather by his speech, he intends to do you some extraordinary
honours: it may be, he will make one a senator, because of
his age: and on the other, bestow his daughter or niece in
marriage. There's some such thing hatching, I assure you.
+Pet.+ Very likely, I imagined as much: that last shall be my
lot; I knew some such destiny would befall me. [_Aside._] Shall
we be jovial upon this news, and thrust all sadness out of
doors?
+Leo.+ For our parts, Vitellius was never so voluptuous: all
our discourse shall run wit to the last.
+Duke.+ Our mirth shall be the quintessence of pleasure,
And our delight flow with that harmony,
Th' ambitious spheres shall to the centre shrink,
To hear our music; such ravishing accents,
As are from poets in their fury hurl'd,
When their outrageous raptures fill the world.
+Pet.+ There spoke my genius! [_Aside._
+Ant.+ Now you talk of music, have you e'er a one that can play
us an old lesson, or sing us an old song?
+Pet.+ An old lesson! yes, he shall play _The Beginning of the
World_;[351] and for a song, he shall sing one that was made to
the moving of the orbs, when they were first set in tune.
+Ant.+ Such a one would I hear.
+Pet.+ Walk in then, and it shall not be long, before I satisfy
your desires. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Petro+ and +Julia+, with two bottles._
+Julia.+ Come, master Petro, welcome heartily; while they are
drinking within, we'll be as merry as the maids: I stole these
bottles from under the cupboard, on purpose against your coming.
+Pet.+ Courteous mistress Julia, how shall I deserve this
favour from you?
+Julia.+ There is a way, master Petro, if you could find it;
but the tenderness of your youth keeps you in ignorance: 'tis a
great fault, I must tell you.
+Pet.+ I shall strive to amend it, if you please to instruct
me, lady.
+Julia.+ Alas, do not you know what maids love all this while?
You must come oftener amongst us; want of company keeps the
spring of your blood backward.
+Pet.+ It does so; but you shall see, when we are private, I
shall begin to practise with you better.
_Enter +Baccha+._
+Bac.+ Master Petro, this was kindly done of you.
+Pet.+ What's my master a-doing, can you tell?
+Bac.+ Why, they are as jovial as twenty beggars, drink their
whole cups, six glasses at a health: your master's almost
tipped already.
+Pet.+ So much the better, his business is the sooner
dispatched.
+Julia.+ Well let us not stand idle, but verify the proverb,
_Like master, like man_; and it shall go hard, Master Petro,
but we will put you in the same cue.
+Pet.+ Let me have fair play, put nothing in my cup, and do
your worst.
+Bac.+ Unless the cup have that virtue to retain the print of
a kiss or the glance of an eye, to enamour you: nothing else, I
assure you.
+Pet.+ For that I shall be more thirsty of than of the liquor.
+Julia.+ Then let's make no more words, but about it presently.
Come, Master Petro, will you walk in?
+Pet.+ I attend you.
+Bac.+ It shall go hard, but I'll drink him asleep, and then
work some knavery upon him. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Duke+, +Leonardo+, and the +Antiquary+ drunk._
+Ant.+ I'll drink with all Xerxes' army now; a whole river at a
draught.
+Duke.+ By'r lady, sir, that requires a large swallow.
+Ant.+ 'Tis all one to our noble duke's health: I can drink no
less, not a drop less; and you his servants will pledge me, I
am sure.
+Leo.+ Yes, sir, if you could show us a way, when we had done,
how to build water-mills in our bellies.
+Ant.+ Do you what you will; for my part, I will begin it again
and again, till Bacchus himself shall stand amazed at me.
+Leo.+ But should this quantity of drink come up, 'twere enough
to breed a deluge, and drown a whole country.
+Ant.+ No matter, they can ne'er die better than to be drowned
in the duke's health.
+Duke.+ Well, sir, I'll acquaint him how much he is beholden to
you.
+Ant.+ Will you believe me, gentlemen, upon my credit?
+Leo.+ Yes, sir, anything.
+Ant.+ Do you see these breeches then?
+Leo.+ Ay, what of them?
+Ant.+ These were Pompey's breeches, I assure you.
+Duke.+ Is't possible?
+Ant.+ He had his denomination from them: he was called Pompey
the Great, from wearing these great breeches.
+Leo.+ I never heard so much before.
+Ant.+ And this was Julius Cæsar's hat, when he was killed
in the Capitol; and I am as great as either of them at this
present.
+Leo.+ Like enough so.
+Ant.+ And in my conceit I am as honourable.
+Duke.+ If you are not, you deserve to be.
+Ant.+ Where's Signor Petrucio?
_Enter +Petrucio+ and +Gasparo+._
+Pet.+ Nay, good father, do not trouble me now; 'tis enough
now, that I have promised you to go to the duke with me; in the
meantime, let me work out matters; do not clog me in the way
of my preferment. When I am a nobleman, I will do by you, as
Jupiter did by the other deities; that is, I will let down my
chair of honour, and pull you up after me.[352]
+Gas.+ Well, you shall rule me, son. [_Exit._
+Duke.+ Signor, where have you been?
+Pet.+ I have been forcing my brain to the composition of a
few verses, in the behalf of your entertainment, and I never
knew them flow so dully from me before: an exorcist would have
conjured you up half-a-dozen spirits in the space.
+Leo.+ Indeed, I heard you make a fearful noise, as if you had
been in travail with some strange monster.
+Pet.+ But I have brought them out at last, I thank Minerva,
and without the help of a midwife.
+Ant.+ Reach me a chair: I'll sit down, and read them for you.
+Leo.+ You read them!
+Ant.+ Yes, but I'll put on my optics first. Look you, these
were Hannibal's spectacles.
+Duke.+ Why, did Hannibal wear spectacles?
+Ant.+ Yes; after he grew dim with dust in following the camp,
he wore spectacles. Reach me the paper.
+Leo.+ No; an author must recite his own works.
+Ant.+ Then I'll sit and sleep.
+Leo.+ Read on, signior.
+Pet.+ They were made to show how welcome you are to me.
+Duke.+ Read them out.
+Pet.+
_As welcome as the gentry's to the town,
After a long and hard vacation:
As welcome as a toss'd ship's to a harbour,
Health to the sick, or a cast suit to a barber:
Or as a good new play is to the times,
When they have long surfeited with base rhymes:
As welcome as the spring is to the year,
So are my friends to me, when I have good cheer._
[_While he reads the +Antiquary+ falls asleep._
+Duke.+ Ay, marry, sir, we are doubly beholden to you. What, is
Signior Veterano fallen asleep, and at the recitation of such
verses? A most inhuman disgrace, and not to be digested!
+Pet.+ Has he wronged me so discourteously? I'll be revenged,
by Phœbus.
+Leo.+ But which way can you parallel so foul an injury?
+Pet.+ I'll go in, and make some verses against him.
+Duke.+ That you shall not; 'tis not requital sufficient: I
have a better trick than so. Come, bear him in, and you shall
see what I will invent for you. This was a wrong and a half.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter +Æmilia+ and +Lionel+._
+Æmi.+ Now, Master Lionel, as you have been fortunate in the
forecasting of this business, so pray be studious in the
executing, that we may both come off with honour.
+Lio.+ Observe but my directions, and say nothing.
+Æmi.+ The whole adventure of my credit depends upon your care
and evidence.
+Lio.+ Let no former passage discourage you; be but as
peremptory, as [your][353] cause is good.
+Æmi.+ Nay, if I but once apprehend a just occasion to usurp
over him, let me alone to talk and look scurvily. Step aside, I
hear him coming.
_Enter +Lorenzo+._
+Lor.+ My wife? some angel guard me! The looks of Medusa were
not so ominous. I'll haste from the infection of her sight, as
from the appearance of a basilisk.
+Æmi.+ Nay, sir, you may tarry; and if virtue has not quite
forsook you, or that your ears be not altogether obdurate
to good counsel, consider what I say, and be ashamed of the
injuries you have wrought against me.
+Lor.+ What unheard-of evasion has the subtlety of woman's
nature suggested to her thoughts, to come off now?
+Æmi.+ Well, sir, however you carry it, 'tis I have reason
to complain; but the mildness of my disposition and enjoined
obedience will not permit me, though indeed your wantonness and
ill-carriage have sufficiently provoked me.
+Lor.+ Provoked you! I provoked you? As if any fault in a
husband should warrant the like in his wife! No: 'twas thy lust
and mightiness of desire, that is so strong within thee. Had'st
thou no company, no masculine object to look upon, yet thy own
fancy were able to create a creature, with whom thou might'st
commit, though not an actual, yet a mental wickedness.
+Æmi.+ What recompense can you make me for those slanderous
conceits, when they shall be proved false to you?
+Lor.+ Hear me, thou base woman! thou that art the abstract of
all ever yet was bad; with whom mischief is so incorporate,
that you are both one piece together; and but that you go still
hand in hand, the devil were not sufficient to encounter with;
for thou art indeed able to instruct him! Do not imagine with
this frontless impudence to stand daring of me: I can be angry,
and as quick in the execution of it, I can.
+Æmi.+ Be as angry as you please; truth and honesty will be
confident, in despite of you: those are virtues that will look
justice itself in the face.
+Lor.+ Ay, but where are they? Not a-near you; thou would'st
blast them to behold thee: scarce, I think, in the world,
especially such worlds as you women are.
+Æmi.+ Hum! to see, what an easy matter it is to let a
jealous, peevish husband go on, and rebuke him at pleasure!
+Lor.+ So lewd and stubborn!--mads me. Speak briefly, what
objection can you allege against me or for yourself.
+Æmi.+ None, alas, against you! You are virtuous; but you think
you can act the Jupiter, to blind me with your escapes and
concealed trulls: yet I am not so simple, but I can play the
Juno, and find out your exploits.
+Lor.+ What exploits? What concealed trulls?
+Æmi.+ Why, the supposed boy you seem to be jealous of, 'tis
your own leman,[354] your own dear morsel: I have searched out
the mystery. Husbands must do ill, and wives must bear the
reproach! A fine inversion!
+Lor.+ I am more in a maze, more involv'd in a labyrinth, than
before.
+Æmi.+ You were best plead innocence too, 'tis your safest
refuge: but I did not think a man of your age and beard had
been so lascivious to keep a disguised callet[355] under my
nose; a base cockatrice[356] in page's apparel to wait upon
you, and rob me of my due benevolence! There's no law nor
equity to warrant this.
+Lor.+ Why, do I any such thing?
+Æmi.+ Pray, what else is the boy, but your own hermaphrodite?
a female siren in a male outside! Alas! had I intended what you
suspect and accuse me for, I had been more wary, more private
in the carriage, I assure you.
+Lor.+ Why, is that boy otherwise than he appears to be?
_Enter +Lionel+._
+Æmi.+ 'Tis a thing will be quickly search'd out. Your secret
bawdry and the murder of my good name will not long lie hid, I
warrant you.
+Lio.+ Now is my cue to second her. [_Aside._
+Lor.+ Signior Lionel, most welcome. I would entreat your
advice here to the clearing of a doubt.
+Lio.+ What's that, sir?
+Lor.+ 'Tis concerning the boy you placed with me.
+Lio.+ Ay, what of him?
+Lor.+ Whether it were an enchantment or no, or an illusion
of the sight, or if I could persuade myself it was a dream,
'twere better; but my imagination so persuaded me, that I heard
my wife and him interchanging amorous discourse together. To
what an extremity of passion the frailty of man's nature might
induce me to!
+Lio.+ Very good.
+Lor.+ Not very good, neither; but, after the expense of so
much anger and distraction, my wife comes upon me again, and
affirms that he is no boy, but a disguised mistress of my own,
and upon this swells against me, as if she had lain all night
in the leaven.
+Æmi.+ Have not I reason?
+Lor.+ Pray, sir, will you inform us of the verity of his sex.
+Lio.+ Then take it upon my word, 'tis a woman.
+Æmi.+ Now, sir, what have you to answer?
+Lor.+ I am not yet thoroughly satisfied; but if it be a woman,
I must confess my error.
+Æmi.+ What satisfaction's that, after so great a wrong, and
the taking away of my good name? You forget my deserts, and how
I brought you a dowry of ten talents: besides, I find no such
superfluity of courage in you to do this, neither.
+Lor.+ Well, were he a boy or no, 'tis more than I can affirm;
yet this I'll swear, I entertained him for no mistress, and, I
hope, you for no servant; therefore, good wife, be pacified.
+Æmi.+ No, sir, I'll call my kindred and my friends together,
then present a joint complaint of you to the senate, and if
they right me not, I'll protest there's no justice in their
court or government.
+Lor.+ If she have this plea against me, I must make my peace;
she'll undo me else. [_Aside._] Sweet wife, I'll ask thee
forgiveness upon my knees, if thou wilt have me: I rejoice more
that thou art clear, than I was angry for the supposed offence.
Be but patient, and the liberty thou enjoyedst before shall be
thought thraldom hereafter. Sweet sir, will you mediate?
+Lio.+ Come, sweet lady, upon my request you shall be made
friends; 'twas but a mistake; conceive it so, and he shall
study to redeem it.
+Æmi.+ Well, sir, upon this gentleman's intreaty, you have your
pardon. You know the propensity of my disposition, and that
makes you so bold with me.
+Lor.+ Pray, Master Lionel, will you acquaint my wife with the
purpose of this concealment; for I am utterly ignorant, and she
has not the patience to hear me.
+Lio.+ It requires more privacy than so, neither is it yet ripe
for projection; but because the community of counsel is the
only pledge of friendship, walk in, and I'll acquaint you.
+Lor.+ Honest, sweet wife, I thank thee with all my heart.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter +Duke+, +Leonardo+, and +Petrucio+, bringing
in the +Antiquary+, in a fool's coat._
+Duke.+ So, set him down softly; then let us slip aside, and
overhear him.
+Ant.+ Where am I? What metamorphosis am I crept into? A
fool's coat! what's the emblem of this, trow? Who has thus
transformed me, I wonder? I was awake, am I not asleep still?
Why, Petro, you rogue: sure, I have drank of Circe's cup, and
that has turn'd me to this shape of a fool: and I had drank a
little longer, I had been changed into an ass. Why, Petro, I
say, I will not rest calling, till thou comest----
_Enter +Petro+ in woman's clothes._
Heyday, what more transmigrations of forms! I think Pythagoras
has been amongst us. How came you thus accoutred, sirrah?
+Pet.+ Why, sir, the wenches made me drunk, and dressed me, as
you see.
+Ant.+ A merry world the while! My boy and I make one
hermaphrodite, and now, next Midsummer-ale,[357] I may serve
for a fool, and he for a Maid-Marian.
_Enter +Duke+ and +Leonardo+._
+Duke.+ Who is this? Signor Veterano?
+Ant.+ The same, sir: I was not so when you left me. Do you
know who has thus abused me?
+Duke.+ Not I, sir.
+Ant.+ You promised to do me a courtesy.
+Duke.+ Anything lies in my power.
+Ant.+ Then, pray, will you bring me immediately to the duke?
+Duke.+ Not as you are, I hope.
+Ant.+ Yes, as I am: he shall see how I am wronged amongst
them. I know he loves me, and will right me. Pray, sir, forbear
persuasion to the contrary, and lead on. [_Exeunt._
FOOTNOTES:
[345] See Milton's "Comus," l. 739, &c.
[346] So in "King Henry IV., Part I."--
"And on thine eye-lids _crown_ the god of sleep."
--_Steevens._ [The whole passage seems to be imitated from one in
"Venus and Adonis."]
[347] So Seneca--
"Curæ leves loquuntur: ingentes stupent."
--_Pegge._
[348] Famous for all the arts of fraud and thievery--
"Non fuit Autolyci tam piccata manus."
--_Martial._
See Mr Steevens's note on "The Winter's Tale," act iv. sc. 2.
[349] [Dressing himself.]
[350] Ambergrease was formerly an ingredient used in heightening
sauces. So in Milton's "Paradise Regained," book ii. l. 344--
"In pastry built, or from the spit, or boil'd,
_Gris amber_ steam'd."--_Steevens._
On this passage Dr Newton observes, that "ambergris, or grey amber, is
esteemed the best, and used in perfumes and cordials." A curious lady
communicated the following remarks upon this passage to Mr Peck, which
we will here transcribe: "_Grey amber_ is the amber our author here
speaks of, and melts like butter. It was formerly a main ingredient
in every concert for a banquet--viz., to fume the meat with, and
that whether boiled, roasted, or baked; laid often on the top of a
baked pudding; which last I have eat of at an old courtier's table.
And I remember, in our old chronicle there is much complaint of the
nobilities being made sick, at Cardinal Wolsey's banquets, with rich
scented cates and dishes most costly dressed with _ambergris_. I also
recollect I once saw a little book writ by a gentlewoman of Queen
Elizabeth's Court, where ambergris is mentioned as the _haut-gout_ of
that age." So far this curious lady; and Beaumont and Fletcher, in the
"Custom of the Country," act iii. sc. 2--
"Be sure
The wines be lusty, high, and full of spirit,
And _amber'd_ all."
It appears also to have been esteemed a restorative, being mentioned,
with other things used for that purpose, in Marston's "Fawne," act ii.
sc. 1. See also Surflet's Translation of Laurentius's "Discourse of Old
Age, &c.," 1599, p. 194.
[351] [Or Sellenger's _Round_. See Chappell's "Popular Music," pp. 69,
70.]
[352] See Homer's "Iliad," viii:--
Σειρὴν χρυσείην ἐξ οὐρανόθεν κρεμασάντες, &c.
--_Steevens._
[353] [Mr. Collier's addition.]
[354] _Leman_ is the old word for a _lover_ of either sex; and in
a note to "The Merry Wives of Windsor," act iv. sc. 2, Mr Steevens
derives it from _lief_, which is Dutch for beloved. In this opinion he
only follows Junius, while others consider it to have its origin in
_l'aimant_.
"Judge Apius, prickt forth with filthy desire,
Thy person as _Lemmon_ doth greatly require."
--_Apius and Virginia_, 1575, sign. D 3.
In "The Contention between Liberalitie and Prodigalitie," 1602, it is
made the subject of a pun:
"He shall have a _Lemmon_ to moysten his mouth:
A _Lymon_, I meane, no _Lemman_, I trow;
Take hede, my faire maides, you take me not so."
--Sign. C 4.--_Collier._
[355] [Drab.]
[356] This was one of the names by which women of ill-fame were usually
distinguished.
So in Ben Jonson's "Every Man out of his Humour" "His chief exercises
are taking the whiff, squiring a _cockatrice_, and making privy
searches for imparters."
In "Cynthia's Revels," act ii. sc. 4: "--Marry, to _his cockatrice, or
punquetto_, half a dozen taffata gowns, or sattin kirtles, in a pair or
two of months; why, they are nothing."
And in his "Poetaster," act iii. sc. 4: "--I would fain come with my
_cockatrice_, one day, and see a play, if I knew when there were a good
bawdy one."
Again in Massinger's "City Madam," act ii. sc. 1:
"----My fidlers playing all night
The shaking of the sheets, which I have danced
Again and again with _my cockatrice_."
And in Dekker's "Belman of London," sign. B.: "Shee feedes uppon gold
as the estredge doth upon iron, and drinks silver faster downe her
crane-like throat, than an _English cockatrice_ doth Hiphocras."
See also an extract from the "Gull's Horn Book," 1609, in Shakespeare,
p. 83, edit. 1778.
[357] Rustic meetings of festivity, at particular seasons, were
formerly called _ales_; as Church-ale, Whitsun-ale, Bride-ale,
Midsummer-ale, &c. Carew, in his "Survey of Cornwall," edition 1769, p.
68, gives the following account of the Church-ale; with which, it is
most likely, the others agreed:--"For the church-ale, two young men of
the parish are yerely chosen by their last foregoers, to be wardens;
who, dividing the task, make collection among the parishioners, of
whatsoever provision it pleaseth them voluntarily to bestow. This they
imploy in brewing, baking, and other acates, against Whitsontide; upon
which holydayes the neighbours meet at the church-house, and there
merily feede on their owne victuals, contributing some petty portion
to the stock; which by many smalls, groweth to a meetly greatnes; for
there is entertayned a kinde of emulation betweene these wardens, who
by his graciousnes in gathering, and good husbandry in expending, can
best advance the churches profit. Besides, the neighbour parishes at
those times lovingly visit one another, and this way frankely spend
their money together. The afternoones are consumed in such exercises
as olde and yong folke (having leysure) doe accustomably weare out the
time withall."----In the subsequent pages, Carew enters into a defence
of these meetings, which in his time had become productive of riot and
disorder, and were among the subjects of complaint by the more rigid
puritans. For an account of _Maid Marian_, see Mr Tollet's Dissertation
at the end of the "First Part of Henry IV." [But see both subjects
copiously illustrated in "Popular Antiquities of Great Britain," i. 156,
_et seq._]
ACT V., SCENE I.
_Enter +Lorenzo+, +Mocinigo+, +Æmilia+,
and +Lucretia+._
+Lor.+ Now, Signor Mocinigo, what haste requires your presence?
+Moc.+ Marry, sir, this. You brought me once into a paradise of
pleasure and expectation of much comfort; my request therefore
is, that you would no longer defer what then you so liberally
promised.
+Lor.+ How do you mean?
+Moc.+ Why, sir, in joining that beauteous lady, your daughter,
and myself in the firm bonds of matrimony; for I am somewhat
impatient of delay in this kind, and indeed the height of my
blood requires it.
+Luc.+ Are you so hot? I shall give you a card to cool you[358]
presently. [_Aside._
+Lor.+ 'Tis an honest and a virtuous demand, and on all sides
an action of great consequence; and, for my part, there's not a
thing in the world I could wish sooner accomplished.
+Moc.+ Thank you, sir.
+Lor.+ There's another branch of policy, besides the coupling
of you together, which springs from the fruitfulness of my
brain, that I as much labour to bring to perfection as the
other.
+Moc.+ What's that, sir?
+Lor.+ A device upon the same occasion, but with a different
respect; 'tis to be imposed upon Petrucio. I hate to differ so
much from the nature of an Italian, as not to be revengeful;
and the occasion at this time was, he scorned the love of her,
that you now so studiously affect; but I'll fit him in his
kind.
+Moc.+ Did he so? He deserves to have both his eyes struck
as blind as Cupid's, his master, that should have taught him
better manners. But how will you do it?
+Lor.+ There's one Lionel, an ingenious witty gentleman.
+Æmi.+ Ay, that he is, as ever breathed, husband, upon my
knowledge.
+Lor.+ Well, he is so, and we two have cast to requite it upon
him. The plot, as he informs me, is already in agitation, and
afterwards, sans delay, I'll bestow her upon you.
+Luc.+ But you may be deceived. [_Aside._
+Moc.+ Still you engage me more and more your debtor.
+Lor.+ If I can bring both these to success, as they are
happily intended, I may sit down, and, with the poet, cry,
_Jamque opus exegi._
+Moc.+ Would I could say so too; I wish as much, but 'tis you
must confirm it, fair mistress: one bare word of your consent,
and 'tis done. The sweetness of your looks encourage me, that
you will join pity with your beauty; there shall be nothing
wanting in me to demerit it; and then, I hope, although I am
base,
Base in respect of you divine and pure,
Dutiful service may your love procure.
+Lor.+ How now, Signor! What, love and poetry, have they two
found you out? Nay, then you must conquer. Consider this,
daughter; show thy obedience to Phœbus and god Cupid: make an
humble professor of thyself; 'twill be the more acceptable, and
advance thy deserts.
+Æmi.+ Do, chicken, speak the word, and make him happy in a
minute.
+Lor.+ Well said, wife; solicit in his behalf; 'tis well done;
I am loth to importune her too much, for fear of a repulse.
+Æmi.+ Marry, come up, sir; you are still usurping in my
company. Is this according to the articles proposed between
us, that I should bear rule and you obey with silence? I had
thought to have endeavoured for persuasion, but because you
exhort me to it, I'll desist from what I intended: I'll do
nothing but of my own accord, I.
+Lor.+ Mum! wife, I have done. This we, that are married, must
be subject to.
+Moc.+ You give an ill example, Mistress Æmilia; you give an
ill example----
+Æmi.+ What old fellow is this that talks so? Do you know him,
daughter?
+Moc.+ Have you so soon forgot me, lady?
+Æmi.+ Where has he had his breeding, I wonder? He is the
offspring of some peasant, sure! Can he show any pedigree?
+Lor.+ Let her alone, there's no dealing with her. Come,
daughter, let me hear your answer to this gentleman.
+Luc.+ Truly, sir, I have endeavoured all means possible, and
in a manner enforced myself to love him----
+Lor.+ Well said, girl.
+Luc.+ But could never effect it.
+Lor.+ How!
+Luc.+ I have examined whatever might commend a gentleman, both
for his exterior and inward abilities; yet, amongst all that
may speak him worthy, I could never discern one good part or
quality to invite affection.
+Lor.+ This is it I feared. Now should I break out into rage;
but my wife and a foolish nature withhold my passion.
+Moc.+ I am undone, unspirited, my hopes vain, and my labours
nullities!
+Lor.+ Where be your large vaunts now, Signor? What strange
tricks and devices you had to win a woman!
+Moc.+ Such assurance I conceived of myself; but when they
affect wilful stubbornness, lock up their ears, and will
hearken to no manner of persuasion, what shall a man do?
+Lor.+ You hear what taxes are laid upon you, daughter: these
are stains to your other virtues.
+Luc.+ Pray, sir, hear my defence. What sympathy can there be
between our two ages or agreement in our conditions? But you'll
object, he has means. 'Tis confess'd; but what assurance has he
to keep it? Will it continue longer than the law permits him
possession, which will come like a torrent, and sweep away all?
He has made a forfeiture of his whole estate.
+Lor.+ What, are you become a statist's daughter[359] or a
prophetess? Whence have you this intelligence?
+Moc.+ I hope she will not betray me. [_Aside._
+Luc.+ If murder can exact it, 'tis absolutely lost.
+Lor.+ How, murder!
+Luc.+ Yes, he conspired the other day with a bravo, a
cut-throat, to take away the life of a noble innocent
gentleman, which is since discovered by miracle: the same that
came with music to my window.
+Moc.+ All's out; I'm ruined in her confession! That man that
trusts woman with a privacy, and hopes for silence, he may as
well expect it at the fall of a bridge![360] A secret with
them is like a viper; 'twill make way, though it eat through
the bowels of them. [_Aside._
+Lor.+ Take heed how you traduce a person of his rank and
eminency: a scar in a mean man becomes a wound in a greater.
+Luc.+ There he is, question him; and if he deny it, get him
examined.
+Lor.+ Why, signor, is this true?
+Æmi.+ His silence betrays him: 'tis so.
+Moc.+ 'Tis so, that all women thirst man's overthrow; that's
a principle as demonstrative as truth: 'tis the only end they
were made for; and when they have once insinuated themselves
into our counsels, and gained the power of our life, the fire
is more merciful; it burns within them till it get forth.
+Lor.+ I commend her for the discovery: 'twas not fit her weak
thoughts should be clogged with so foul a matter. It had been
to her like forced meat to a surfeited stomach, that would have
bred nothing but crudities in her conscience.
+Moc.+ O my cursed fate! shame and punishment attend me! they
are the fruits of lust. Sir, all that I did was for her ease
and liberty. [_Aside._
+Luc.+ Nay, sir, he was so impudent to be an accessory. Who
knows but he might as privately have plotted to have sent me
after him; for how should I have been secure of my life when he
made no scruple to kill another upon so small an inducement?
+Æmi.+ Thou sayest right, daughter; thou shalt utterly
disclaim him. The cast of his eye shows he was ever a knave.
+Moc.+ How the scabs descant upon me!
+Lor.+ What was the motive to this foul attempt?
+Luc.+ Why, sir, because he was an affectionate lover of mine,
and for no other reason in the earth.
+Æmi.+ O mandrake, was that all? He thought, belike, he should
not have enough. Thou covetous engrosser of venery. Why, one
wife is able to content two husbands.
+Moc.+ Sir, I am at your mercy: bid them not insult upon me. I
beseech you, let me go as I came.
+Lor.+ Stay there; I know not how I shall be censured for your
escape. I may be thought a party in the business.
+Luc.+ Besides, I hear since that the mercenary varlet that did
it, though he be otherwise most desperate and hardened in such
exploits, yet out of the apprehension of so unjust an act, and
moved in conscience for so foul a guilt, is grown distracted,
raves out of measure, confesses the deed, accuses himself and
the procurer, curses both, and will by no means be quieted.
+Lor.+ Where is that fellow?
+Luc.+ Sir, if you please to accompany me, I will bring you to
him, where your own eye and ear shall witness the certainty;
and then, I hope, you will repent that ever you sought to tie
me to such a monster as this, who preferred the heat of his
desires before all laws of nature or humanity.
+Lor.+ Yes, that I will, and gratulate the subtlety of thy wit,
and goodness of fate, that protected thee from him.
+Æmi.+ Away with him, husband: and be sure to beg his lands
betimes, before your court-vultures scent his carcase.
+Lor.+ Well said, wife; I should never have thought on this
now, and thou had'st not put me in mind of it: women, I see,
have the only masculine policy, and are the best solicitors
and politicians of a state. But I'll first go and see him my
daughter tells me of, that, when I am truly informed of all,
I may the better proceed in my accusation against them. Come
along, sir.
+Moc.+ Well, if you are so violent, I'm as resolute: 'tis but a
hanging matter, and do your worst. [_Exeunt._
_Enter +Bravo+ and +Boy+._
+Bravo.+ What news, boy?
+Boy.+ Sir, Mistress Lucretia commends her to you, and desires,
as ever her persuasions wrought upon you, or as you affect her
good, and would add credit and belief to what she has reported,
that you would now strain your utmost to the expression of what
she and you consulted of.
+Bravo.+ I apprehend her: where is she?
+Boy.+ Hard by, sir: her father, and the old fornicator
Mocinigo, and I think her mother, are all coming to be
spectators of your strange behaviour. [_Exit._
+Bravo.+ Go, wait them in, let me alone to personate an
ecstasy;[361] I am near mad already, and I do not fool myself
quite into't, I care not. I'll withdraw, till they come.
[_Exit._
_Enter +Lorenzo+, +Mocinigo+, +Æmilia+, +Lucretia+,
and +Boy+._
+Lor.+ Is this the place?
+Luc.+ Yes, sir. Where's your master, boy? how does he?
+Boy.+ O sweet mistress, quite distempered; his brains turn
round like the needle of a dial, six men's strength is not able
to hold him; he was bound with I know not how many cords this
morning, and broke them all. See, where he enters!
_Enter +Bravo+._
+Bravo.+ Why, if I kill'd him, what is that to thee?
Was I not hir'd unto it? 'twas not I,
But the base gold that slew Sir Polydore:[362]
Then damn the money,
+Lor.+ He begins to preach.
+Æmi.+ Will he do us no mischief, think you?
+Boy.+ O no, he's the best for that in his fits that e'er you
knew: he hurts nobody.
+Moc.+ But I am vilely afraid of him.
+Boy.+ If you are a vile person, or have done any great
wickedness, you were best look to yourself; for those he knows
by instinct, and assaults them with as much violence as may be.
+Moc.+ Then am I perished. Good sir, I had rather answer the
law than be terrified with his looks.
+Lor.+ Nay, you shall tarry, and take part with us, by your
favour.
+Æmi.+ How his eyes sparkle!
+Bravo.+ Look, where the ghost appears, his wounds fresh-bleeding!
He frowns, and threatens me; [O,] could the substance
Do nothing, and will shadows revenge?
+Lor.+ 'Tis strange,
This was a fearful murder.
+Bravo.+ Do not stare so,
I can look big too; all I did unto thee
'Twas by another's instigation:
There be some that are as deep in as myself;
Go and fright them too.
+Moc.+ Beshrew him for his counsel! [_Aside._
+Lor.+ What a just judgment's here! 'Tis an old saying,
Murder will out; and 'fore it shall lie hid,
The authors will accuse themselves.
+Bravo.+ Now he vanishes;
Dost thou steal from me, fearful spirit? See
The print of his footsteps!
+Moc.+ That ever my lust should be the parent to so foul a sin!
[_Aside._
+Bravo.+ He told me that his horrid tragedy
Was acted over every night in hell,
Where sad Erinnys, with her venom'd face,
Sits[363] a spectatrix, black with the curls of snakes,
That lift their speckled heads above their shoulders,
And, thrusting forth their stings, hiss at their entrance;
And that serves for an applause.
+Moc.+ How can you have the heart to look upon him? pray let me go,
I feel a looseness in my belly.
+Lor.+ Nay, you shall hear all out first.
+Moc.+ I confess it,
What would you have more of me?
+Bravo.+ Then fierce Enyo holds a torch, Megæra
Another; I'll down and play my part amongst them,
For I can do't to th' life.
+Lor.+ Rather to the death.
+Bravo.+ I'll trace th' infernal theatre, and view
Those squalid actors, and the tragic pomp
Of hell and night.
+Moc.+ How ghastly his words sound! pray, keep him off from me.
+Lor.+ The guilt of conscience makes you fearful, Signor!
+Bravo.+ When I come there, I'll chain up Cerberus,
Nay, I'll muzzle him; I'll pull down Æacus
And Minos by the beard; then with my foot
I'll tumble Rhadamanthus from his chair,
And for the Furies I'll not suffer them;
I'll be myself a Fury.
+Moc.+ To vex me, I warrant you.
+Bravo.+ Next will I post unto the Destinies,
Shiver their wheel and distaff 'gainst the wall,
And spoil their housewif'ry; I'll take their spindle,
Where hang the threads of human life like beams
Drawn from the sun, and mix them altogether--
Kings with beggars.
+Moc.+ Good sir, he comes towards me!
+Bravo.+ That I could see that old fox Mocinigo,
The villain that did tempt me to this deed!
+Moc.+ He names me too; pray, sir, stand between us:
Ladies, do you speak to him; I have not the faith.
+Æmi.+ What would you do with him, if you had him?
+Bravo.+ I'd serve him worse than Hercules did Lychas,[364]
When he presented him the poison'd shirt,
Which when he had put on, and felt the smart,
He snatch'd him by the heels into the air,
Swung him some once or twice about his head,
Then shot him like a stone out of an engine,
Three furlongs length into the Euboic sea.
+Lor.+ What a huge progress is that for an old
lover to be carried!
+Bravo.+ What's he that seeks to hide himself?
Come forth,
Thou mortal, thou art a traitor or a murderer!
O, is it you?
+Moc.+ What will become of me? Pray, help me!
I shall be torn in pieces else.
+Bravo.+ You and I must walk together: come into the middle;
yet further.
_Enter +Aurelio+ as an Officer, and two Servants._
+Aur.+ Where be these fellows here that murder men? Serjeants,
apprehend them, and convey them straight before the duke.
+Bravo.+ Who are you?
+Aur.+ We are the duke's officers.
+Bravo.+ The duke's officers must be obey'd, take heed of
displeasing them: how majestically they look!
+Lor.+ You see, wife, the charm of authority: and a man be
ne'er so wild, it tames him presently.
+Æmi.+ Ay, husband, I know what will tame a man besides
authority.
+Aur.+ Come, gentles, since you are all together, I must
entreat your company along with us, to witness what you know in
this behalf.
+Lor.+ Sir, you have prevented us; for we intended to have
brought him ourselves before his highness.
+Aur.+ Then I hope your resolution will make it the easier to
you. What, sir, will you go willingly?
+Bravo.+ Without all contradiction; lead on. [_Exeunt,
flourish._
_Enter +Lionel+ as the +Duke+; +Duke+, +Petrucio+,
+Gasparo+, +Angelia+ as a woman._
+Duke.+ Come, Signor,
This is the morning must shine bright upon you,
Wherein preferment, that has slept obscure,
And all this while linger'd behind your wishes,
Shall overtake you in her greatest glories:
Ambition shall be weak, to think the honours
Shall crown your worth.
+Pet.+ Father, you hear all this?
+Gas.+ I do with joy, son, and am ravish'd at it;
Therefore I have resign'd m' estate unto thee,
(Only reserving some few crowns to live on)
Because I'd have thee to maintain thy port.
+Pet.+ You did as you ought.
+Gas.+ 'Tis enough for me,
To be the parent of so bless'd an issue.
+Pet.+ Nay, if you are so apprehensive, I am
satisfied.
+Lio.+ Is this the gentleman you so commended?
+Duke.+ It is the same, my liege, whose royal virtues,
Fitting a prince's court, are the large field
For fame to triumph in.
+Lio.+ So you inform'd me: his face and carriage do import no less.
+Duke.+ Report abroad speaks him as liberally;
And in my thoughts Fortune deserves but ill,
That she detain'd thus long her favours from him.
+Lio.+ That will I make amends for.
+Gas.+ Happy hour,
And happy me to see it! Now I perceive
He has more wit than myself.
+Pet.+ What must I do?
+Duke.+ What must you do? go straight and kneel before him,
And thank his highness for his love.
+Pet.+ I can't speak,
I am so overcome with sudden gladness;
Yet I'll endeavour it. [_He kneels._] Most mighty sovereign,
Thus low I bow in humble reverence,
To kiss the basis of your regal throne.
+Lio.+ Rise up.
+Pet.+ Your grace's servant.
+Lio.+ We admit you
Our nearest favourite in place and council.
+Duke.+ Go to, you are made for ever. [_Aside._
+Pet.+ I'll find some office
To gratulate thy pains.
+Lio.+ What was the cause,
That you presented him no sooner to us?
We might have bred him up in our affairs,
And he have learnt the fashions of our court,
Which might have render'd him more active.
+Duke.+ Doubt not,
His ingenuity will soon instruct him.
+Lio.+ Then, to confirm him deeper in our friendship,
We here assign our sister for his wife.
What! is he bashful?
+Pet.+ Speaks your grace in earnest?
+Lio.+ What else? I'll have it so.
+Duke.+ Why do you not step and take her?
+Pet.+ Is't not a kind of treason?
+Duke.+ Not if he bid you.
+Pet.+ Divinest lady, are you so content?
+Ang.+ What my brother commands, I must obey.
+Lio.+ Join hands together; be wise; and use
Your dignities with a due reverence.
Tiberius Cæsar joy'd not in the birth
Of great Sejanus' fortunes with that zeal,
As I shall to have rais'd you--though I hope
A different fate attends you.
+Duke.+ Go to the church,
Perform your rites there, and return again,
As fast as you can.
+Gas.+ I could e'en expire with contemplation of his happiness.
+Lio.+ What old man's that?
+Pet.+ This is my father, sir.
+Lio.+ Your own father?
+Gas.+ So please your grace.
+Lio.+ Give him a pair
Of velvet breeches from our grandsire's wardrobe.
+Gas.+ Thrice noble duke. Come, son, let's to the church.
[_Exeunt +Petrucio+, +Gasparo+, and +Angelia+._
_Enter +Antiquary+ and +Petro+._
+Lio.+ How now! what new-come pageant have we here?
+Duke.+ This is the famous antiquary I told your grace of, a
man worthy your grace; the Janus of our age, and treasurer
of times passed: a man worthy your bounteous favour and kind
notice; that will as soon forget himself in the remembrance of
your highness, as any subject you have.
+Lio.+ How comes he so accoutred?
+Duke.+ No miracle at all, sir; for, as you have many fools in
the habit of a wise man, so have you sometimes a wise man in
the habit of a fool.
+Ant.+ Sir, I have been so grossly abused, as no story,
record, or chronicle can parallel the like, and I come here
for redress: I hear your highness loves me, and indeed you are
partly interested in the cause, for I, having took somewhat
a large potion for your grace's health, fell asleep, when in
the interim they apparelled me as you see, made a fool or an
asinigo[365] of me; and for my boy here, they cogged him out
of his proper shape into the habit of an Amazon, to wait upon
me.
+Lio.+ But who did this?
+Ant.+ Nay, sir, that I cannot tell; but I desire it may be
found out.
+Duke.+ Well, signor, if you knew all, you have no cause to be
angry.
+Ant.+ How so?
+Duke.+ Why, that same coat you wear did formerly belong unto
Pantolabus the Roman jester, and buffoon to Augustus Cæsar.
+Ant.+ And I thought so, I'd ne'er put it off, while I breath'd.
+Lio.+ Stand by; we'll inquire further anon.
_Enter +Aurelio+, +Lorenzo+, +Mocinigo+, +Bravo+,
+Æmilia+, +Lucretia+, Officers._
Now who are you?
+Aur.+ Your highness's officers.
We have brought two murderers here to be censured,
Who by their own confession are found guilty,
And need no further trial.
+Lio.+ Which be the parties?
+Aur.+ These, and please you.
+Lio.+ Well, what do you answer?
What can you plead to stop the course of justice?
+Moc.+ For my part, though I had no conscience to act it,
I have not the heart to deny it; and therefore expect
Your sentence; for mercy, I hope none nor favour.
+Lio.+ What says th' accuser?
+Luc.+ Please your princely wisdom,
He slew a man was destin'd for my husband;
Yet, since another's death cannot recall him,
Were the law satisfied, and he adjudg'd
To have his goods confiscate, for my own part,
I could rest well content.
+Moc.+ With all my heart;
I yield possession to whomsoe'er
She shall choose for a husband. Reach a paper
Or blank: I'll seal to it.
+Luc.+ See, there's a writing!
+Moc.+ And there's my hand to it:
I care not what the conditions be.
+Lio.+ 'Tis well: whom will you choose in place of the other?
+Luc.+ Then, sir, to keep his memory alive,
I'll seek no further than this officer.
+Lor.+ How? choose a common serjeant for her husband!
+Æmi.+ A base commendadore! I'll ne'er endure it.
+Aur.+ No, lady, a gentleman I assure you, and
Suppos'd the slain Aurelio. [_Discovers himself._
+Moc.+ A plot, a plot upon me! I'll revoke it all.
+Lio.+ Nay, that you cannot, now you have confirm'd it.
+Moc.+ Am I then cheated? I'll go home and die,
To avoid shame, not live in infamy.
+Lio.+ What says the villain bravo for himself?
+Bravo.+ The bravo, sir, is honest, and his father.
+Aur.+ My father! bless me, how comes this about?
+Bravo.+ That virtuous maid, whom I must always honour,
Acquainted me with that old lecher's drift:
I, to prevent the ruin of my son,
Conceal'd from all, proffer'd my service to him
In this disguise.
+Lio.+ 'Twas a wise and pious deed.
_Enter +Petrucio+, +Angelia+, and +Gasparo+._
+Pet.+ Room for the duke's kindred.
+Lio.+ What, you are married, I perceive.
+Pet.+ I am, royal brother.
+Lio.+ Then, for your better learning in our service,
Take these instructions. Never hereafter
Contemn a man that has more wit than yourself,
Or foolishly conceive no lady's merit
Or beauty worthy your affection.
+Pet.+ How's this?
+Lio.+ Truth, my most honour'd brother, you are gull'd;
So is my reverend uncle the Antiquary;
So are you all. For he that you conceiv'd
The duke, is your friend and Lionel;
Look you else.
+Pet.+ 'Tis so.
+Gas.+ 'Tis too apparent true.
+Lio.+ What, all drunk! Speak, uncle.
+Ant.+ Thou art my nephew,
And thou hast wit; 'tis fit thou should'st have land too.
Tell me no more, how thou hast cheated me,
I do perceive it, and forgive thee for 't;
Thou shalt have all I have, and I'll be wiser.
+Lio.+ I thank you, sir. Brother Petrucio,
This to your comfort; that is my sister,
Whom formerly you did abuse in love,
And you may be glad your lot is no worse.
+Pet.+ I am contented; I'll give a good wit
Leave to abuse me at any time.
+Lor.+ When he cannot help it.
+Gas.+ This 'tis
To be so politic and ambitious, son.
+Pet.+ Nay, father, do not you aggravate it too.
+Lor.+ Well, signor,
You must pardon me, if I bid joy to you;
My daughter was not good enough for you.
+Pet.+ You are tyrannous.
_Enter +Leonardo+._
+Leo.+ Save you, gallants.
+Lio.+ You are very welcome.
+Leo.+ I come in quest of our noble duke,
Who from his court has stol'n out privately,
And 'tis reported he is here.
+Lio.+ No indeed, sir,
He is not here. 'Slight, we shall be question'd
For counterfeiting his person.
+Duke.+ Be not dismay'd,
I am the duke.
+Leo.+ My lord!
+Duke.+ The very same, sir.
That for my recreation have descended,
And no impeach, I hope, to royalty
To sit spectator of your mirth. And thus much
You shall gain by my presence: what is pass'd,
I'll see it ratified as firm, as if
Myself and senate had concluded it.
And when a prince allows his subjects sport,
He that pines at it, let him perish for 't.
FOOTNOTES:
[358] _A cooling card_ is frequently mentioned in our ancient
authors; but the precise sense in which it is used is difficult to
be ascertained. In some places it seems to signify _admonition_ or
_advice_; in others, _censure_ or _reproof_. In Lyly's "Euphues," p.
39, "Euphues, to the intent he might bridle the overlashing affections
of Philautus, conveied into his studie a certeine pamphlet, which he
tearmed _A cooling card_ for Philautus; yet generally to bee applyed to
all lovers."
So in the "First Part of Henry VI.," act v. sc. 4--
"There all is marr'd; there lies _a cooling card_."
And in the "Wounds of Civil War," 1594--
"I'll have a present _cooling card_ for you."
[359] See Note to this play, p. 421.
[360] _i.e._, at the _fall_ of water through a bridge. The idea seems
to be taken from the noisy situation of the houses formerly standing on
London Bridge.--_Steevens._
[361] So in "Hamlet," act iii. sc. 4--
"This is the very coinage of your brain;
This bodiless creation _ecstasy_
Is very cunning in."
Mr Steevens observes that in this place, and many others, _ecstasy_
means a temporary alienation of mind, a fit.
[362] Alluding to the fate of Polydorus, a son of King Priam. See
Virgil's "Æneid," book iii. l. 49--
"Hunc _Polydorum auri_ quondam cum pondere magno
Infelix Priamus furtim mandarat alendum
Threicio regi----
. . . . _Polydorum_ obtruncat, et _auro_
Vi petitur."
[363] In the first edit. this line is thus--
"Black with the curls of snakes, sits a spectatrix."
It may be doubted whether Mr Reed had sufficient warrant for altering
the old reading: at all events _spectatrix_, the word of the time,
might have stood; perhaps, in the two next lines _their_ should be
changed to _her_.--_Collier._
[364] So in Shakespeare's "Antony and Cleopatra"--
"Let me lodge _Lichas_ on the horn o' th' moon."
--_Steevens._
Again, Ovid's "Metam.," lib. 9. l. 215--
"Tremit ille pavetque
Pallidus; et timide verba excusantia dicit
Dicentem, genibusque manus adhibere parantem
Corripit Alcides; et terque quaterque rotatum
Mittit in Euboicas tormento fortius undas,
Ille per aerias pendens indurnit auras."
Of which the following is Gay's translation--
"The youth all pale with shiv'ring fear was stung,
And vain excuses falter'd on his tongue:
Alcides snatch'd him, as with suppliant face
He strove to clasp his knees, and beg for grace;
He toss'd him o'er his head with airy course,
And hurl'd with more than with an engine's force:
Far o'er the Eubœan main aloof he flies,
And hardens by degrees amid the skies."
[365] A cant term for a foolish fellow or idiot. See Mr Steevens's note
on "Troilus and Cressida," act ii. sc. 1.
END OF VOL. XIII.
TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES
Silently corrected simple spelling, grammar, and typographical
errors.
Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed.
Enclosed italics markup in _underscores_.
Enclosed unitalicized small capital markup in +plus signs+.