A board groaning under the heavy burden of the beasts that c_Beaumont and Fletcher's Works, Vol. 10 of 10

the cudd, and the Fowl that cutteth the Air: I shall not like the

Table of a countrey Justice, besprinkled over with all manner of

cheap Sallads, sliced Beef, Giblets, and Petitoes, to fill up room,

nor should there stand any great, cumbersom, un-cut-up pies, at

the nether end fill'd with moss and stones, partly to make a shew

with and partly to keep the lower Mess from eating, nor shall my

meat come in sneaking, like the City service, one dish a quarter

of an hour after another, and gone, as if they had appointed to

meet there, and had mistook the hour, nor should it, like the new

Court service, come in in haste, as if it fain would be gone again,

all courses at once, like a hunting breakfast, but I would have

my several courses, and my dishes well fill'd, my first course

should be brought in after the antient manner, by a score of old

bleer-ey'd Serving-men, in long blew coats, (marry they shall buy

Silk, Facing, and Buttons themselves) but that's by the way.

_Boy._ Master the time calls on, will you be walking? [_Exit Boy._

_Laza._ Follow boy, follow, my guts were half an hour since in the

privy Kitchin. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter Count, and his Sister_ Oriana.

_Oria._ Faith brother, I must needs go yonder.

_Count._ And faith Sister what will you do yonder?

_Oria._ I know the Lady _Honoria_ will be glad to see me.

_Count._ Glad to see you? faith the Lady _Honoria_ cares for you

as she doth for all other young Ladies, she's glad to see you, and

will shew you the Privy Garden, and tell you how many Gowns the

Duchess had; Marry if you have ever an old Uncle, that would be a

Lord, or ever a kinsman that hath done a murther, or committed a

robbery, and will give good store of Money to procure his pardon,

then the Lady _Honoria_ will be glad to see you.

_Oria._ I, but they say one shall see fine sights at the Court.

_Count._ I'll tell you what you shall see, you shall see many faces

of mans making, for you shall find very few as God left them: and

you shall see many legs too; amongst the rest you shall behold one

pair, the feet of which, were in times past, sockless, but are now

through the change of time (that alters all things) very strangely

become the legs of a Knight and a Courtier; another pair you shall

see, that were heir apparent legs to a Glover, these legs hope

shortly to be honourable; when they pass by they will bow, and the

mouth to these legs, will seem to offer you some Courtship; it

[will] swear, but [it] will lye, hear it not.

_Oria._ Why, and are not these fine sights?

_Count._ Sister, in seriousness you yet are young

And fair, a fair young Maid, and apt.

_Oria._ Apt?

_Count._ Exceeding apt[, apt] to be drawn to.

_Oria._ To what?

_Count._ To that you should not be, 'tis no dispraise,

She is not bad that hath desire to ill,

But she that hath no power to rule that Will:

For there you shall be wooed in other kinds

Than yet your years have known, the chiefest men

Will seem to throw themselves

As vassals at your [service], kiss your hand,

Prepare [you] Banquets, Masques, Shews, all inticements

That Wit and Lust together can devise,

To draw a Lady from the state of Grace

To an old Lady widdows Gallery;

And they will praise your virtues, beware that,

The only way to turn a Woman whore,

Is to commend her chastity: you'll goe?

_Oria._ I would go, if it were but only to shew you, that I could

be there, and be mov'd with none of these tricks.

_Count._ Your servants are ready?

_Oria._ An hour since.

_Count._ Well, if you come off clear from this hot service, Your

praise shall be the greater. Farewel Sister.

_Oria._ Farewel Brother.

_Count._ Once more, if you stay in the presence till candle-light,

keep on the foreside o'th' Curtain; and do you hear, take heed

of the old Bawd, in the cloth of Tissue sleeves, and the knit

Mittines. Farewel Sister. [_Exit_ Oria.

Now am I idle, I would I had been a Scholar, that I might a studied

now: the punishment of meaner men is, they have too much to do;

our only misery is, that without company we know not what to do;

I must take some of the common courses of our Nobility; which is

thus: if I can find no company that likes me, pluck off my Hatband,

throw an old Cloak over my face, and as if I would not be known,

walk hastily through the streets, till I be discovered; then there

goes Count such a one, says one; there goes Count such a one, says

another: Look how fast he goes, says a third; there's some great

matters in hand questionless, says a fourth; when all my business

is to hav[e] them say so: this hath been used; or if I can find any

company, I'll after dinner to the Stage, to see a Play; where, when

I first enter, you shall have a murmure in the house, every one

that does not know cries, What Nobleman is that? all the Gallants

on the Stage rise, vail to me, kiss their hand, offer me their

places: then I pick out some one, whom I please to grace among the

rest, take his seat, use it, throw my cloak over my face, and laugh

at him: the poor Gentleman imagines himself most highly grac'd,

thinks all the Auditors esteem him one of my bosom friends; and

in right special regard with me. But here comes a Gentleman, that

I hope will make me better sport, than either street and stage

fooleries.

_Enter_ Lazarello _and Boy_.

This man loves to eat good meat, always provided, he do not pay for

it himself, he goes by the name of the _Hungry Courtier_, marry,

because I think that name will not sufficiently distinguish him,

for no doubt he hath more fellows there, his name is _Lazarello_,

he is none of these [same] ordinary eaters, that will devour three

breakfasts, and as many dinners, without any prejudice to their

Beavers, Drinkings, or Suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind

of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty, than plenty, I'll

overhear him.

_Laza._ Oh thou most itching kindly appetite,

Which every creature in his stomach feels;

Oh leave, leave yet at last thus to torment me.

Three several Sallads have I sacrific'd,

Bedew'd with precious oil and vinegar

Already to appease thy greedy wrath. Boy.

_Boy._ Sir.

_Laza._ Will the Count speak with me?

_Boy._ One of his Gentlemen is gone to inform him of your coming,

Sir.

_Laza._ There is no way left for me to compass th[is] Fish-head,

but by being presently made known to the Duke.

_Boy._ That will be hard Sir.

_Laza._ When I have tasted of this sacred dish,

Then shall my bones rest in my Fathers tomb

In peace; then shall I dye most willingly,

And as a dish be serv'd to satisfie,

Deaths hunger, and I will be buried thus:

My Bier shall be a charger born by four,

The Coffin where I lye, a powd'ring-tub,

Bestrew'd with Lettice, and cool Sallad herbs,

My Winding-sheet of Tansies, the black Guard

Shall be my solemn Mourners, and instead

Of ceremonies, wholsom burial Prayers:

A printed dirge in rhyme, shall bury me.

Instead of tears, let them pour Capon sauce upon my hearse,

And salt instead of dust, Manchets for stones, for other glorious

shields

Give me a Voider; and above my Hearse

For a Trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up.

[_The Count discovers himself._

_Boy._ Master, the Count's here.

_Laza._ Where? my Lord I do beseech you.

_Count._ Y'are very welcome Sir, I pray you stand up, you shall

dine with me.

_Laza._ I do beseech your Lordship by the love I still have born to

your honourable house.

_Count._ Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray

rise.

_Laza._ Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these same

fellows, that do as it were respect victuals.

_Count._ Oh Sir by no means.

_Laza._ Your Lordship has often promised, that whensoever I should

affect greatness, your own hand should help to raise me.

_Count._ And so much still assure your self of.

_Laza._ And though I must confess, I have ever shun'd popularity,

by the example of others, yet I do now feel my self a little

ambitious, your Lordship is great, and though young, yet a Privy

Counsellor.

_Count._ I pray you Sir leap into the matter, what would You have

me do for you?

_Laza._ I would intreat your Lordship to make me known to the Duke.

_Count._ When Sir?

_Laza._ Suddainly my Lord, I would have you present me unto him

this morning.

_Count._ It shall be done, but for what virtues, would you have him

take notice of you?

_Laza._ Your Lordship shall know that presently.

_Count._ 'Tis pity of this fellow, he is of good wit, and

sufficient understanding, when he is not troubled with this greedy

worm.

_Laza._ 'Faith, you may intreat him to take notice of me for

any thing; for being an excellent Farrier, for playing well at

Span-counter, or sticking knives in walls, for being impudent, or

for nothing; why may not I be a Favorite on the suddain? I see

nothing against it.

_Count._ Not so Sir, I know you have not the face to be a Favourite

on the suddain.

_Laz._ Why then you shall present me as a Gentleman well qualified,

or one extraordinary seen in divers strange mysteries.

_Count._ In what Sir? as how?

_Laz._ Marry as thus--

_Enter [I]ntelligencer._

_Count._ Yonder's my old Spirit, that hath haunted me daily, ever

since I was a privy Counsellor, I must be rid of him, I pray you

stay there, I am a little busie, I will speak with you presently.

_Laza._ You shall bring me in, and after a little other talk taking

me by the hand, you shall utter these words to the Duke: May it

please your grace, to take note of a Gentleman, well read, deeply

learned, and throughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all

Sallads and Pot-herbs whatsoever.

_Count._ 'Twill be rare, if you will walk before, Sir, I will

overtake you instantly.

_Laza._ Your Lordships ever.

_Count._ This fellow is a kind of an informer, one that lives in

Alehouses and Taverns, and because he perceives some worthy men in

this Land, with much labour and great expence, to have discovered

things dangerously hanging over the State; he thinks to discover

as much out of the talk of drunkards in Tap-houses: he brings me

informations, pick'd out of broken words, in mens common talk,

which, with his malicious mis-application, he hopes will seem

dangerous, he doth besides, bring me the names of all the young

Gentlemen in the City, that use Ordinaries, or Taverns, talking

(to my thinking) only as the freedom of their youth teach them,

without any further ends; for dangerous and seditious spirits;

he is besides, an arrant whoremaster, as any is in _Milan_, of a

Lay-man; I will not meddle with the Clergy: he is parcel Lawyer,

and in my conscience much of their religion, I must put upon him

some piece of service; come hither Sir, what have you to do with me?

_Int._ Little my Lord, I only come to know how your Lordship would

employ me.

_Count._ Observed you that Gentleman, that parted from me but now?

_Int._ I saw him now my Lord.

_Count._ I was sending for you, I have talked with this man, and I

do find him dangerous.

_Int._ Is your Lordship in good earnest?

_Count._ Hark you Sir, there may perhaps be some within ear-[shot].

[_He whispers with him._

_Enter_ Lazarello _and his Boy_.

_Laz._ Sirrah, will you venture your life, the Duke hath sent the

Fish-head to my Lord?

_Boy._ Sir if he have not, kill me, do what you will with me.

_Laz._ How uncertain is the state of all mortal things! I have

these crosses from my Cradle, from my very Cradle, insomuch that

I do begin to grow desperate: Fortune I do despise thee, do thy

worst; yet when I do better gather my self together, I do find

it is rather the part of a wise man, to prevent the storms of

Fortune by stirring, than to suffer them by standing still, to pour

themselves upon his naked body. I will about it.

_Count._ Who's within there?

_Enter a Servingman._

Let this Gentleman out at the back door, forget not my

instructions, if you find any thing dangerous; trouble not

your self to find out me, but carry your informations to the

Lord _Lucio_, he is a man grave, and well experienced in these

businesses.

[_Int._ Your Lordships Servant.] [_Exit Intelligencer and

Servingman._

_Laz._ Will it please your [worship walke]?

_Count._ Sir I was coming, I will overtake you.

_Laz._ I will attend you over against the Lord _Gonderinoes_ house.

_Count._ You shall not attend there long.

_Laz._ Thither must I to see my Loves face, the chaste

Virgin head

Of a dear Fish, yet pure and undeflowred,

Not known of man no rough bred countrey hand,

Hath once toucht thee, no Pandars withered paw,

Nor an un-napkin'd Lawyers greasie fist,

Hath once slubbered thee: no Ladies supple hand,

Wash'd o'er with Urine, hath yet seiz'd on thee

With her two nimble talents: no Court hand,

Whom his own natural filth, or change of air,

Hath bedeck'd with scabs, hath marr'd thy whiter grace:

Oh let it be thought lawful then for me,

To crop the flower of thy Virginity. [_Exit_ Lazarello.

_Count._ This day I am for fools, I am all theirs,

Though like to our young wanton cocker'd heirs,

Who do affect those men above the rest,

In whose base company they still are best:

I do not with much labour strive to be

The wisest ever in the company:

But for a fool, our wisdom oft amends,

As enemies do teach us more than friends. [_Exit Count._

_Actus Secundus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter Gondarino and his servants._

_Serv._ My Lord:

_Gond._ Ha!

_Serv._ Here's one hath brought you a present.

_Gond._ From whom? from a woman? if it be from a woman, bid him

carrie it back, and tell her she's a whore; what is it?

_Serv._ A Fish head my Lord.

_Gond._ What Fish head?

_Serv._ I did not aske that my Lord.

_Gond._ Whence comes it?

_Ser._ From the Court.

_Gond._ O 'tis a Cods-head.

_Serv._ No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke.

_Gond._ Let it be carried to my Mercer, I doe owe him money for

silks, stop his mouth with that. [_Exit Serv._

Was there ever any man that hated his wife after death but I?

and for her sake all women, women that were created only for the

preservation of little dogs.

_Enter Servant._

_Serv._ My Lord the Count's sister being overtaken in the streets,

with a great hail-storm, is light at your gate, and desires [room]

till the storm be overpast.

_Gond._ Is she a woman?

_Serv._ I my Lord I think so.

_Gond._ I have none for her then: bid her get her gone, tell her

she is not welcome.

_Serv._ My Lord, she is now comming up.

_Gond._ She shall not come up, tell her any thing; tell her I have

but one great room in my house, and I am now in it at the close

stool.

_Serv._ She's here my Lord.

_Gond._ O impudence of women: I can keep dogs out of my house, or I

can defend my house against theeves, but I cannot keep out women.

_Enter_ Oriana, _a waiting woman, and a Page_.

Now Madam, what hath your Ladyship to say to me?

_Oria._ My Lord, I was bold to crave the help of your house against

the storm.

_Gond._ Your Ladyships boldness in coming will be impudence in

staying; for you are most unwelcome.

_Oriana._ Oh my Lord!

_Gond._ Doe you laugh? by the hate I bear to you, 'tis true.

_Orian._ Y'are merry my Lord.

_Gond._ Let me laugh to death if I be, or can be whilst thou art

here, or livest; or any of thy sex.

_Oriana._ I commend your Lordship.

_Gond._ Doe you commend me? why doe you commend me? I give you no

such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman.

_Oria._ Ha, ha, ha.

_Gond._ Begot when thy father was drunk.

_Orian._ Your Lordship hath a good wit.

_Gond._ How? what have I a good wit?

_Orian._ Come my Lord, I have heard before of your Lordships merry

vain in jesting against our Sex, which I being desirous to hear,

made me rather choose your Lordships house, than any other, but I

know I am welcome.

_Gond._ Let me not live if you be: me thinks it doth not become

you, to come to my house being a stranger to you, I have no woman

in my house, to entertain you, nor to shew you your chamber; why

should you come to me? I have no Galleries, nor banqueting houses,

nor bawdy pictures to shew your Ladyship.

_Orian._ Believe me this your Lordships plain[n]ess makes me think

my self more welcome, than if you had sworn by all the pretty Court

oaths that are, I had been welcomer than your soul to your body.

_Gond._ Now she's in, talking treason will get her out, I durst

sooner undertake to talk an Intelligencer out of the room, and

speak more than he durst hear, than talk a woman out of my company.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ My Lord the Duke being in the streets, and the storm

continuing, is entred your gate, and now coming up.

_Gond._ The Duke! now I know your Errand Madam; you have plots and

private meetings in hand: why doe you choose my house? are you

asham'd to goe to't in the old coupling place, though it be less

suspicious here; for no Christian will suspect a woman to be in

my house? yet you may do it cleanlyer there, for there is a care

had of those businesses; and wheresoever you remove, your great

maintainer and you shall have your lodgings directly opposite, it

is but putting on your night-gown, and your s[l]ippers; Madam, you

understand me?

_Orian._ Before I would not understand him, but now he speaks

riddles to me indeed.

_Enter the Duke, Arrigo, and Lucio._

_Duke._ 'Twas a strange hail-storm.

_Lucio._ 'Twas exceeding strange.

_Gond._ Good morrow to your grace.

_Duke._ Good morrow _Gonderino_.

_Gond._ Justice great Prince.

_Duke._ Why should you beg for justice, I never did you wrong;

What's the offendor?

_Gond._ A woman.

_Duke._ I know your ancient quarrell against that Sex; but what

hainous crime hath she committed?

_Gond._ She hath gone abroad.

_Duke._ What? it cannot be.

_Gond._ She hath done it.

_Duke._ How? I never heard of any woman that did so before.

_Gond._ If she have not laid by that modesty

That should attend a Virgin, and, quite void

Of shame, hath left the house where she was born,

As they should never doe; let me endure

The pains that she should suffer.

_Duke._ Hath she so? Which is the woman?

_Gond._ This, this.

_Duke._ How! _Arrigo? Lucio?_

_Gond._ I then it is a plot, no Prince alive

Shall force me make my house a Brothell house;

Not for the sins, but for the womans sake,

I will not have her in my doors so long:

Will they make my house as bawdy as their own are?

_Duke._ Is it not _Oriana_?

_Lucio._ 'Tis.

_Duke._ Sister to Count _Valero_?

_Arri._ The very same.

_Duke._ She that I love?

_Lucio._ She that you love.

_Duke._ I do suspect.

_Lucio._ So doe I.

_Duke._ This fellow to be but a counterfeit,

One that doth seem to loath all woman-kind,

To hate himself, because he hath some part

Of woman in him; seems not to endure

To see, or to be seen of any woman,

Only, because he knows it is their nature

To wish to tast that which is most forbidden:

And with this shew he may the better compass

(And with far less suspition) his base ends.

_Lucio._ Upon my life 'tis so.

_Duke._ And I doe know,

Before his slain wife gave him that offence,

He was the greatest servant to that Sex

That ever was: what doth this Lady here

With him alone? why should he rail at her to me?

_Lucio._ Because your grace might not suspect.

_Duke._ 'Twas so: I doe love her strangely:

I would fain know the truth: counsell me. [_They three whisper._

_Enter Count, Lazarello, and his boy._

_Count._ It falls out better than we could expect Sir, that we

should find the Duke and my Lord _Gondarino_ together; both which

you desire to be acquainted with.

_Laz._ 'Twas very happy: Boy, goe down into the kitchen, and see if

you can spy that same; I am now in some hope: I have me thinks a

kind of fever upon me. [_Exit Boy._

A certain gloominess within me, doubting as it were, betwixt two

passions: there is no young maid upon her wedding night, when

her husband sets first foot in the bed, blushes, and looks pale

again, oftner than I doe now. There is no Poet acquainted with

more shakings and quakings, towards the latter end of [his] new

play, when he's in that case, that he stands peeping betwixt [the]

Curtains, so fearfully that a Bottle of Ale cannot be opened, but

he thinks some body hisses, than I am at this instant.

_Count._ Are they in consultation? If they be, either my young Duke

hath gotten some Bastard, and is persuading my Knight yonder to

father the child, and marry the wench, or else some Cock-pit is to

be built.

_Laz._ My Lord! what Nobleman's that?

_Count._ His name is _Lucio_, 'tis he that was made a Lord at the

request of some of his friends for his wives sake: he affects to

be a great States-man, and thinks it consists in night-caps and

jewells, and tooth-picks.

_Laz._ And what's that other?

_Count._ A Knight Sir, that pleaseth the Duke to favour, and to

raise to some extraordinary fortunes, he can make as good men as

himself, every day in the week, and doth--

_Laz._ For what was he raised?

_Count._ Truely Sir, I am not able to say directly, for what; But

for wearing of red breeches as I take it; he's a brave man, he will

spend three Knighthoods at a Supper without Trumpets.

_Laza._ My Lord I'll talk with him, for I have a friend, that would

gladly receive the humor.

_Count._ If he have the itch of Knighthood upon him, let him repair

to that Physitian, he'll cure him: but I will give you a note; is

your friend fat or lean?

_Laz._ Something fat.

_Count._ 'Twill be the worse for him.

_Laza._ I hope that's not material.

_Count._ Very much, for there is an impost set upon Knighthoods, &

your friend shall pay a Noble in the pound.

_Duke._ I doe not like examinations,

We shall find out the truth more easily,

Some other way less noted, and that course,

Should not be us'd, till we be sure to prove

Some thing directly, for when they perceive

Themselves suspected, they will then provide

A board groaning under the heavy burden of the beasts that cheweth