silence; for my breast breaks if I confer not my thoughts
upon thee.
_Phi._ You may trust my silence; I can command that;
but if I chance to be questioned I must speak truth: I
can conceal, but not deny my knowledge. That must
command me.
_Dul._ Fie on these philosophical discoursing women!
Prithee confer with me like a creature made of flesh and
blood, and tell me if it be not a scandal to the soul of all
being, proportion, that I, a female of fifteen,[210] of a lightsome
and civil discretion--healthy, lusty, vigorous, full,
and idle--should for ever be shackled to the crampy
shins of a wayward, dull, sour, austere, rough, rheumy
threescore and four? 194
_Phi._ Nay, threescore and ten at the least.
_Dul._ Now, Heaven bless me! as it is pity that every
knave is not a fool, so it is shame that every old man
is not, and resteth not, a widower. They say in China,
when women are past child-bearing, they are all burnt to
make gunpowder. I wonder what men should be done
withal when they are past child-getting. Yet, upon my
love, Philocalia (which with ladies is often above their
honour), I do even dote upon the best part of the duke.
_Phi._ What's that? 204
_Dul._ His son; yes, sooth, and so love him, that I
must marry him.
_Phi._ And wherefore love him so, to marry him?
_Dul._ Because I love him; and because he is virtuous
I love to marry.
_Phi._ His virtues! 210
_Dul._ Ay, with him, his virtues.
_Phi._ Ay, with him! alas, sweet princess, love or virtue
are not of the essence of marriage!
_Dul._ A jest[211] upon your understanding! I'll maintain
that wisdom in a woman is most foolish quality. A
lady of a good complexion, naturally well witted, perfectly
bred, and well exercised in discourse of the best
men, shall make fools of a thousand of these book-thinking
creatures. I speak it by way of justification,
I tell thee (look that nobody eavesdrop us),--I tell
thee, I am truly learned, for I protest ignorance;[212] and
wise, for I love myself; and virtuous enough for a lady
of fifteen. 223
_Phi._ How virtuous?
_Dul._ Shall I speak like a creature of a good healthful
blood, and not like one of these weak, green sickness,
lean, phthisic starvelings? First, for the virtue of magnanimity,
I am very valiant, for there is no heroic action
so particularly noble and glorious to our sex, as not to
fall to action; the greatest deed we can do is not to do
(look that nobody listen). Then am I full of patience,
and can bear more than a sumpter-horse; for (to speak
sensibly), what burthen is there so heavy to a porter's
back as virginity to a well-complexioned young lady's
thoughts? (Look no body hearken.) By this hand the
noblest vow is that of virginity, because the hardest. I
will have the prince. 237
_Phi._ But by what means, sweet madam?
_Dul._ O Philocalia, in heavy sadness and unwanton
phrase, there lies all the brain-work. By what means!
I could fall into a miserable blank verse presently!
_Phi._ But, dear madam, your reason of loving him?
_Dul._ Faith, only a woman's reason, because I was expressly
forbidden to love him. At the first view I liked
him; and no sooner had my father's wisdom mistrusted
my liking, but I grew loth his judgment should err; I
pitied he should prove a fool in his old age, and without
cause mistrust me. 248
_Phi._ But, when you saw no means of manifesting
your affection to him, why did not your hopes perish?
_Dul._ O Philocalia! that difficulty only enflames me:
when the enterprise is easy, the victory is inglorious.
No, let my wise, aged, learned, intelligent father,--that
can interpret eyes, understand the language of birds,
interpret the grumbling of dogs and the conference of
cats,--that can read even silence,--let him forbid all
interviews, all speeches, all tokens, all messages, all (as
he thinks) human means,--I will speak to the prince,
court the prince, that he shall understand me;--nay, I
will so stalk on the blind side of my all-knowing father's
wit, that, do what his wisdom can, he shall be my only
mediator, my only messenger, my only honourable
spokesman;--he shall carry my favours, he shall amplify
my affection;--nay, he shall direct the prince the means,
the very way to my bed;--he, and only he, when he
only can do this, and only would not do this, he only
shall do this. 267
_Phi._ Only you shall then deserve such a husband.
O love, how violent are thy passages!
_Dul._ Pish, Philocalia! 'tis against the nature of love
not to be violent.
_Phi._ And against the condition of violence to be
constant.
_Dul._ Constancy?--constancy and patience are virtues
in no living creatures but centinels and anglers. Here's
our father!
_Enter_ GONZAGO, HERCULES, _and_ GRANUFFO.
_Gon._ What, did he think to walk invisibly before our
eyes? And he had Gyges' ring I would find him.
_Herc._ 'Fore Jove, you rated him with emphasis.
_Gon._ Did we not shake the prince with energy? 280
_Herc._ With Ciceronian elocution?
_Gon._ And most pathetic, piercing oratory?
_Herc._ If he have any wit in him, he will make sweet
use of it.
_Gon._ Nay, he shall make sweet use of it ere I have
done. Lord, what overweening fools these young men
be, that think us old men sots!
_Herc._ Arrant asses.
_Gon._ Doting idiots, when we, God wot--ha, ha! 'las,
silly souls! 290
_Herc._ Poor weak creatures, to men of approved reach.
_Gon._ Full years.
_Herc._ Of wise experience.
_Gon._ And approved wit.
_Herc._ Nay, as for your wit----
_Gon._ Count Granuffo, as I live, this Faunus is a rare
understander of men--is a' not? Faunus, this Granuffo
is a right wise good lord, a man of excellent discourse
and never speaks his signs to me, and men of profound
reach instruct abundantly; he begs suits with signs, gives
thanks with signs, puts off his hat leisurely, maintains
his beard learnedly, keeps his lust privately, makes a
nodding leg courtly, and lives happily. 303
_Herc._ Silence is an excellent modest grace, but
especially before so instructing a wisdom as that of your
excellency's. As for his advancement, you gave it most
royally, because he deserves it least duly, since to give
to virtuous desert is rather a due requital than a princely
magnificence, when to undeservingness it is merely all
bounty and free grace. 310
_Gon._ Well spoke, 'tis enough. Don Granuffo, this
Faunus is a very worthy fellow, and an excellent courtier,
and beloved of most of the princes of Christendom, I
can tell you; for howsoever some severer dissembler
grace him not when he affronts him in the full face, yet,
if he comes behind or on the one side, he'll leer and put
back his head upon him. Be sure, be you two precious
to each other.
_Herc._ Sir, myself, my family, my fortunes, are all
devoted, I protest, most religiously to your service. I
vow my whole self only proud in being acknowledged
by you, but as your creature; and my only utmost
ambition is by my sword or soul to testify how sincerely
I am consecrated to your adoration. 324
_Gon._ 'Tis enough; art a gentleman, Fawn?
_Herc._ Not uneminently[213] descended; for were the
pedigrees of some fortunately mounted, searched, they
would be secretly found to be of the blood of the poor
Fawn. 329
_Gon._ 'Tis enough; you two I love heartily; for thy
silence never displeaseth me, nor thy speech ever offend
me. See, our daughter attends us.--My fair, my wise,
my chaste, my duteous, and indeed, in all, my daughter
(for such a pretty soul for all the world have I been),
what! I think we have made the prince to feel his error.
What! did he think he had weak fools in hand?
No, he shall find, as wisely said Lucullus,
Young men are fools that go about to gull us. 338
_Dul._ But sooth, my wisest father, the young prince is
yet forgetful, and resteth resolute in his much-unadvised
love.
_Gon._ Is't possible?
_Dul._ Nay, I protest, what ere he feign to you (as he
can feign most deeply)----
_Gon._ Right, we know it; for if you mark'd, he would
not once take sense of any such intent from him. O
impudence, what mercy canst thou look for!
_Dul._ And as I said, royally wise and wisely royal
father----
_Gon._ I think that eloquence is hereditary. 350
_Dul._ Tho' he can feign, yet I presume your sense is
quick enough to find him.
_Gon._ Quick, is't not, Granuffo?[214] Is't not, Fawn?
Why, I did know you feigned, nay, I do know (by the
just sequence of such impudence) that he hath laid some
second siege unto thy bosom, with most miraculous conveyances
of some rich present on thee.
_Dul._ O bounteous Heaven, how liberal are your graces
to my Nestor-like father!
_Gon._ Is't not so, say? 360
_Dul._ 'Tis so, oraculous father; he hath now more than
courted with bare phrases.
See, father, see, the very bane of honour,
Corruption of justice and virginity:
Gifts hath he left with me. O view this scarf;
This, as he call'd it, most envièd silk,
That should embrace an arm, or waist, or side,
Which he much fear'd should never--this he left,
Despite my much resistance. 369
_Gon._ Did he so? Give't me. I'll give't him. I'll
regive his token with so sharp advantage.
_Dul._ Nay, my worthy father, read but these cunning
letters.
_Gon._ Letters--where? [_Reads._
_Prove you but justly loving, and conceive me,
Till justice leave the gods, I'll never leave thee.
For tho' the duke seem wise, he'll find this strain,
Where two hearts yield consent, all thwarting's vain._
And darest thou then aver this wicked writ?
O world of wenching wiles, where is thy wit? 380
_Enter_ TIBERIO.
_Dul._ But other talk for us were far more fit,
For, see, here comes the Prince Tiberio.
_Gon._ Daughter, upon thy obedience, instantly take thy
chamber.
_Dul._ Dear father, in all duty, let me beseech your
leave, that I may but----
_Gon._ Go to, go to! you are a simple fool, a very simple
animal.
_Dul._ Yet[215] let me (the loyal servant of simplicity)----
_Gon._ What would you do? What! are you wiser than
your father?--will you direct me? 391
_Dul._ Heavens forbid such insolence! Yet let me
denounce my hearty hatred.
_Gon._ To what end?
_Dul._ Tho't be but in the prince's ear (since fits not
maiden's blush to rail aloud).
_Gon._ Go to, go to!
_Dul._ Let me but check his heat.
_Gon._ Well, well.
_Dul._ And take him down, dear father, from his full
pride of hopes. 401
_Gon._ So, so, I say once more, go in.
[_Exeunt_ DULCIMEL _and_ PHILOCALIA.
I will not lose the glory of reproof.
Is this the office of ambassadors,
My Lord Tiberio?
Nay, duty of a son; nay, piety of a man?--
(A figure call'd in art _gradatio_:
With some learned, _Climax_)--to court a royal lady
For's master, father, or perchance his friend,
And yet intend the purchase of his beauty 410
To his own use?
_Tib._ Your grace doth much amaze me.
_Gon._ Ay, feign dissemble; 'las! we are now grown
old, weak-sighted; alas! any one fools us.
_Tib._ I deeply vow, my lord----
_Gon._ Peace, be not damn'd, have pity on your soul.
I confess, sweet prince, for you to love my daughter,
Young and witty,
Of equal mixture both of mind and body,
Is neither wondrous nor unnatural;
Yet to forswear and vow against one's heart, 420
Is full of base, ignoble cowardice,
Since 'tis most plain, such speeches do contemn
Heaven and fear men (that's sententious[216] now).
_Tib._ My gracious lord, if I unknowingly have err'd.
_Gon._ Unknowingly! can you blush, my lord?
Unknowingly! why, can you write these lines,
Present this scarf, unknowingly, my lord,
To my dear daughter? Um, unknowingly?
Can you urge your suit, prefer your gentlest love,
In your own right, to her too easy breast, 430
That, God knows, takes too much compassion on ye?
(And so she pray'd me say) unknowingly?
My lord, if you can act these things unknowingly,
Know we can know your actions so unknown;
For we are old, I will not say in wit
(For even[217] just worth must not approve itself);
But take your scarf, for she vows she'll not wear it.
_Tib._ Nay, but my lord----
_Gon._ Nay, but my lord, my lord,
You must take it, wear it, keep it,
For by the honour of our house and blood, 440
I will deal wisely, and be provident;
Your father shall not say I pandarised,
Or fondly wink'd at your affection;
No, we'll be wise. This night our daughter yields
Your father's answer; this night we invite
Your presence therefore to a feastful waking;
To-morrow to Ferrara you return,
With wishèd answer to your royal father;
Meantime, as you respect our best relation
Of your fair bearing (Granuffo, is't not good?)-- 450
Of your fair bearing, rest more anxious--
(No, anxious is not a good word)--rest more vigilant
Over your passion, both forbear and bear,
_Anechou e apechou_[218] (that's Greek to you now),
Else your youth shall find
Our nose not stuff'd, but we can take the wind
And smell you out--I say no more but thus--
And smell you out. What! ha' we not our eyes,
Our nose and ears? What! are these hairs unwise?
Look to't, _quos ego_,[219]-- 460
(A figure called _Aposiopesis_ or _Increpatio_).
[_Exeunt_ GONZAGO _and_ GRANUFFO.
_Tib._ [_reads the embroidered scarfs_] _Prove you but
justly loving and conceive me,
Justice shall leave the gods before I leave thee:_
Imagination prove as true as thou art sweet!
_And tho' the duke seem wise, he'll find this strain,
When two hearts yield consent, all thwarting's vain._
O quick, deviceful, strong-brain'd Dulcimel!
Thou art too full of wit to be a wife.
Why dost thou love? or what strong heat gave life
To such faint hopes? O woman! thou art made 470
Most only of, and for, deceit; thy form
Is nothing but delusion of our eyes,
Our ears, our hearts, and sometimes of our hands;
Hypocrisy and vanity brought forth,
Without male heat, thy most, most monstrous being.
Shall I abuse my royal father's trust,
And make myself a scorn--the very food
Of rumour infamous? Shall I, that ever loath'd
A thought of woman, now begin to love
My worthy father's right?--break faith to him 480
That got me, to get a faithless woman?
_Herc._ True,
My worthy lord, your grace is _verè pius_.
_Tib._ To take from my good father
The pleasure of his eyes and of his hands,
Imaginary solace of his fading life!
_Herc._ His life, that only lives to your sole good!
_Tib._ And myself good--his life's most only end.
_Herc._ Which, O! may never end!
_Tib._ Yes, Fawn, in time. We must not prescribe to
nature everything. There's some end in everything. 490
_Herc._ But in a woman. Yet, as she is a wife, she is
oftentimes the end of her husband.
_Tib._ Shall I, I say----
_Herc._ Shall you, I say, confound your own fair hopes,
Cross all your course of life, make your self vain
To your once steady graveness, and all to second
The ambitious quickness of a monstrous love,
That's only out of difficulty born,
And followed only for the miracle
In the obtaining? I would ha' ye now 500
Tell her father all.
_Tib._ Uncompassionate vild man!
Shall I not pity if I cannot love?
Or rather, shall I not for pity love
So wondrous wit in so most wondrous beauty,
That with such rarest art and cunning means
Entreats[220] what I (thing valueless) am not
Worthy to grant, my admiration?
Are fathers to be thought on in our loves?
_Herc._ True, right, sir;
Fathers or friends, a crown and love hath none, 510
But are allied to themselves alone.
Your father, I may boldly say, he's an ass
To hope that you'll forbear to swallow
What he cannot chew; nay, 'tis injustice, truly,
For him to judge it fit that you should starve
For that which only he can feast his eye withal,
And not disgest.[221]
_Tib._ O! Fawn, what man of so cold earth
But must love such a wit in such a body!
Thou last and only rareness of Heaven's works,
From best of man made model of the gods! 520
Divinest woman, thou perfection
Of all proportion's beauty, made when Jove was blithe--
Well filled with nectar, and full friends with man--
Thou dear as air, necessary as sleep
To careful man! Woman! O who can sin so deeply
As to be curs'd from knowing of the pleasures
Thy soft society, modest amorousness,
Yields to our tedious life!
Fawn, the duke shall not know this.
_Herc._ Unless you tell him. But what hope can live in you, 530
When your short stay and your most shorten'd conference,
Not only actions, but even looks observ'd,
Cut off all possibilities of obtaining?
_Tib._ Tush, Fawn,
To violence of women, love, and wit,
Nothing but not obtaining is impossible!
_Notumque furens quid foemina possit._
_Herc._ But then, how rest you to your father true?
_Tib._ To him that only can give dues, she rests most due.
[_Exit._
_Herc._ Even so. He that with safety would well lurk in courts 540
To best-elected ends, of force is wrung
To keep broad eyes, soft feet, long ears, and most short tongue;
For 'tis of knowing creatures the main art
To use quick hams, wide arms, and most close heart.
[205] Compare with this speech the fourth elegy of Book II. of
Ovid's _Amores_.
[206] Eds. 1. and 3. "moving."
[207] Eds. 1. and 3. "and."
[208] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "for if my humour love."
[209] So ed. 1.--Eds. 2. and 3. "renowned." (For the form
"renowmed" cf. Marlowe, i. 24, &c.)
[210] Eds. 1. and 3. "13."
[211] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "I iest;" ed. 3. "I rest."
[212] Eds. 1. and 3. "protest ignorant."--Ed. 2. "prote
ignorance."
[213] So eds. 1. and 3.--Ed. 2. "Not _one eminently_."
[214] Old eds. give:--
"_Gon._ Quicke, ist not?
_Gra._ Ist not Fawne Why," &c.
[215] Eds. 1. and 3. "Yet let me _be_ the loyal," &c.
[216] Ed. 2. "sentious."
[217] Ed. 3. "every."
[218] Eds. 1. and 2. "anexou e ampexou."--Ed. 3. "anechon,
eapechon." The reference is to the maxim of Epictetus (reported
by Aulus Gellius, xvii. 19)--'Anechou kai Apechou.
[219] Virg., _Æn._ i. 135.
[220] Eds. 1. and 2. read:--"Entreates? What (I thing valules) am
not, Worthie but to graunt," &c. Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1.
give:--"Entreates? What I thinke valulesse and not Worthy but to
graunt," &c.
[221] Old form of "digest."
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
_Palace of the Duke of Urbin._
_Enter_ HERCULES _and_ GARBETZA.
_Herc._ Why, 'tis a most well-in-fashion affection, Donna
Garbetza. Your knight, Sir Amorous, is a man of a most
unfortunate back, spits white, has an ill breath; at three,
after dinner, goes to the bath, takes the diet, nay, which
is more, takes tobacco; therefore, with great authority,
you may cuckold him.
_Gar._ I hope so; but would that friend my brother discover
me--would he wrong himself to prejudice me--
_Herc._ No prejudice, dear Garbetza: his brother your
husband, right; he cuckold his eldest brother, true; he
gets her with child, just. 11
_Gar._ Sure there's no wrong in right, true, and just?
_Herc._ And, indeed, since the virtue of procreation
growed hopeless in your husband, to whom should you
rather commit your love and honour to, than him that is
most like and near your husband, his brother? But are
you assured your friend and brother rests entirely constant
solely to you?
_Gar._ To me? O Fawn, let me sigh it with joy into
thy bosom, my brother has been wooed by this and that
and t'other lady, to entertain them (for I ha' seen their
letters); but his vow to me, O Fawn! is most immutable,
unfeigning, peculiar, and indeed deserved. 23
_Enter_ PUTTOTTA _and a_ Page. PUTTOTTA _with a
letter in her hand_.
_Put._ Never entreat me--never beseech me to have
pity, forsooth, on your master, M.[222] Herod. Let him
never be so daringly ambitious as to hope, with all his
vows and protestations, to gain my affection! God's
my discretion! Has my sutlery, tapstry, laundry, made
me be ta'en up at the court--preferr'd me to a husband;
and have I advanced my husband, with the labour of
mine own body, from the black-guard[223] to be one of the
duke's drummers, to make him one of the court forkers?
Shall I, that purify many lords and some ladies, can
tell who wears perfumes, who plasters, and for why, know
who's a gallant of a chaste shirt and[224] who not, shall I
become--or dares your master think I will become--or
if I would[225] become, presumes your master to hope I
would become one of his common feminines? No, let
M. Herod brag of his brother's wife. I scorn his letters
and her leavings at my heel--i'faith, and so tell
him. 41
_Pag._ Nay, softly,[226] dear Puttotta--Mistress Puttotta--Madam
Puttotta! O be merciful to my languishing
master! He may in time grow great and well-graced
courtier, for he wears yellow already! Mix, therefore,
your loves. As for Madam Garbetza, his brother's wife,
you see what he writes there.
_Put._ I must confess he says she is a spiny, green creature,
of an unwholesome barren blood and cold embrace--a
bony thing, of most unequal hips, uneven eyes, ill-rank'd
teeth, and indeed one, but that she hires him,
he endures not; yet, for all this does he hope to dishonest
me? I am for his betters, I would he should well know
it; for more by many than my husband know I am a
woman of a known sound and upright carriage; and
so he shall find if he deal with me; and so tell him, I
pray you. What! does he hope to make me one of his
gills, his punks, polecats, flirts, and feminines? 58
[_Exit._ _As_ PUTOTTA _goes out, she flings away
the letter_. _The_ Page _puts it up, and, as
he is talking_, HERCULES _steals it out of
his pocket_.
_Pag._ Alas! my miserable master, what suds art thou
wash'd into! Thou art born to be scorn'd of every
carted community, and yet he'll out-crack a German
when he is drunk, or a Spaniard after he hath eaten a
fumatho,[227] that he has lien with that and that and t'other
lady; that he lay last night in such a madonna's[228]
chamber, t'other night he lay[229] in such a countess's couch,
to-night he lies in such a lady's closet; when poor I
know all this while he only[230] lied in his throat.
[_Exit._
_Herc._ Madam, let me sigh it in your bosom, how immutable
and unfainting, and, indeed----
_Gar._ Fawn, I will undo that rascal! He shall starve
for any further maintenance. 71
_Herc._ You may make him come to the covering and
recovering of his old doublets.
_Gar._ He was in fair hope of proving heir to his elder
brother, but he has gotten me with child.
_Herc._ So, you withdrawing your favour, his present
means fail him; and by getting you with child, his
future means for ever rest despairful to him.
_Gar._ O Heaven! that I could curse him beneath
damnation! Impudent varlet! By my reputation,
Fawn, I only loved him because I thought I only did
not love him. He vowed infinite beauties doted on
him! Alas! I was a simple country lady, wore gold
buttons, trunk[231] sleeves, and flaggon bracelets. In this
state of innocency was I brought up to the court. 85
_Herc._ And now, instead of country innocency, have
you got court honesty? Well, madam, leave your
brother to my placing; he shall have a special cabin in
the ship of fools.
_Gar._ Right. Remember he got his elder brother's wife
with child, and so deprived himself of th' inheritance.
_Herc._ That will stow[232] him under hatches, I warrant
you.
_Gar._ And so deprived himself of inheritance! Dear
Fawn, be my champion! 95
_Herc._ The very scourge of your most basely offending
brother.
_Gar._ Ignoble villain! that I might but see thee
wretched without pity and recovery! Well!
_Enter_ HEROD _and_ NYMPHADORO.
_Herc._ Stand, Herod; you are full met, sir. 100
_Herod._ But not met full, sir. I am as gaunt as a
hunting gelding after three train'd scents! 'Fore Venus,
Fawn, I have been shaling[233] of peascods. Upon[234] four
great madonnas have I this afternoon grafted the forked
tree!
_Herc._ Is't possible?
_Herod._ Possible! Fie on this satiety!--'tis a dull,
blunt, weary, and drowsy passion. Who would be a
proper fellow to be thus greedily devoured and
swallowed among ladies? Faith, 'tis my torment--my
very rack! 111
_Herc._ Right, Herod, true; for imagine all a man possess'd
with[235] a perpetual pleasure, like that of generation,
even in the highest lusciousness, he straight sinks as
unable to bear so continual, so pure, so universal a
sensuality.
_Herod._ By even truth, 'tis very right; and, for my
part, would I were eunuch'd rather than thus suck'd
away with kisses, enfeebling dalliance; and O the falling
sickness on them all! why did reasonable nature give so
strange, so rebellious, so tyrannous, so insatiate parts of
appetite to so weak a governess--a[236] woman? 122
_Herc._ Or why, O custom! didst thou oblige them to
modesty, such cold temperance, that they must be wooed
by men--courted by men? Why, all know they are
more full of strong desires--those desires most impatient
of delay or hindrance, they have more unruly passions
than men, and weaker reason to temper those passions
than men.
_Nym._ Why, then, hath not the discretion of Nature
thought it just that customary coyness, old fashions,
terms of honour and of modesty, forsooth, all laid aside,
they court not us, beseech not us rather, for sweets of
love than we them? Why, by Janus! women are but
men turn'd the wrong side outward. 135
_Herc._ O, sir, Nature is a wise workman. She knows
right well that if women should woo us to the act of
love, we should all be utterly shamed. How often
should they take us unprovided, when they are always
ready! 140
_Herod._ Ay, sir, right, sir; to some few such unfortunate
handsome fellows as myself am; to my grief, I
know it.
_Herc._ Why, here are two perfect creatures--the one,
Nymphadoro, loves all, and my Herod here enjoys
all.
_Herod._ 'Faith, some score or two of ladies or so ravish
me among them, divide my presents, and would indeed
engross me, were I indeed such an ass as to be made a
monopoly of. Look, sirrah, what a vild hand one of
them writes. Who would ever take this for a _d._--_dearest_,
or read this for _only_--_only dearest_? 152
_Herc._ Here's a lie indeed.
_Herod._ True, but here's another much more legibly, a
good secretary,--_My most affected Herod, the utmost
ambition of my hopes and only----_
_Herc._ There is one lie better shaped by odds!
_Herod._ Right; but here's a lady's Roman hand to me
is beyond all. Look ye,--_To her most elected servant
and worthy friend, Herod Baldonzozo, Esquire_. I believe
thou knowest what countess's hand this is. I'll show
thee another. 162
_Herc._ No, good Herod; I'll show thee one now.--_To
his most elected mistress and worthy laundress, divine Mistress
Puttotta, at her tent in the wood-yard, or elsewhere,
give these_----
_Herod._ Prithee, ha' silence! What's that?
_Herc._ _If my tears or vows, my faithfulst_[237] _protestations
on my knees_----
_Herod._ Good, hold! 170
_Herc._ _Fair and only-loved laundress!_--
_Herod._ Forbear, I beseech thee!
_Herc._ _Might move thy stony heart to take pity on my
sighs_----
_Herod._ Do not shame me to the day of judgment!
_Herc._ _Alas! I write it in passion!--alas! thou knowest
besides my loathed sister, thou art_----
_Herod._ For the Lord's sake!
_Herc._ _The only hope of my pleasure, the only pleasure of
my hopes! Be pleased, therefore, to_---- 180
_Herod._ Cease, I beseech thee!
_Herc._ Pish! ne'er blush, man; 'tis an uncourtly quality!
As for thy lying, as long as there's policy in't, it is very
passable! Wherefore has Heaven given man tongue
but to speak to a man's own glory? He that cannot
swell bigger than his natural skin, nor seem to be in
more grace than he is, has not learn'd the very rudiments
or A B C of courtship.
_Herod._ Upon my heart, Fawn, thou pleasest me to the
soul; why, look you, for mine own part, I must confess----
_Enter_ DONDOLO.
See, here's the duke's fool!
_Don._ Aboard! aboard! aboard! all manner of fools,
of court, city, or country, of what degree, sex, or
nature!
_Herod._ Fool!
_Don._ Herod!
_Herc._ What, are ye full freighted? Is your ship well
fool'd?
_Don._ O, 'twas excellently thronged full: a justice of
peace, tho' he had been one of the most illiterate asses in
a country, could hardly ha' got a hanging cabin. O, we
had first some long fortunate great politicians, that were
so sottishly paradised as to think, when popular hate
seconded princes' displeasure to them, any unmerited
violence could seem to the world injustice; some purple
fellows, whom chance reared, and their own deficiencies
of spirit hurled down. We had some courtiers that o'er-bought
their offices, and yet durst fall in love; priests
that forsook their functions to avoid a thwart stroke
with a wet finger.[238] But now, alas, Fawn! there's space[239]
and place.
_Herc._ Why, how gat all these forth? Was not the
warrant strong?
_Don._ Yes, yes; but they got a supersedeas: all of
them proved themselves either knaves or madmen,
and so were all let go; there's none left now in our
ship, but a few citizens, that let their wives keep their
shop-books, some philosophers, and a few critics; one
of which critics has lost his flesh with fishing at the
measure of Plautus' verses; another has vow'd to get the
consumption of the lungs, or to leave to posterity the
true orthography and pronunciation of laughing;[240] a third
hath melted a great deal o' suet, worn out his thumbs
with turning, read out his eyes, and studied his face out
of a sanguine into a meagre, spawling, fleamy loathsomeness,--and
all to find but why _mentula_ should be the
feminine gender, since the rule is _Propria quæ maribus
tribuuntur mascula dicas_. These philosophers, critics,
and all the maids we could find at sixteen, are all our
fraught now. 230
_Herc._ O, then, your ship of fools is full.
_Nym._ True, the maids at seventeen fill it.
_Don._ Fill it, quoth you; alas! we have very few, and
these we were fain to take up in the country too.
_Herc._ But what philosophers ha' ye?
_Don._ O, very strange fellows: one knows nothing;
dares not aver he lives, goes, sees, feels.
_Nym._ A most insensible philosopher.
_Don._ Another, that there is no present time, and that
one man to-day and to-morrow is not the same man; so
that he that yesterday owed money, to-day owes none,
because he is not the same man. 242
_Herod._ Would that philosophy[241] would hold good in
law!
_Herc._ But why has the duke thus labour'd to have all
the fools shipp'd out of his dominions?
_Don._ Marry, because he would play the fool himself
alone, without any rival.
_Herc._ Ware your breech, fool.
_Don._ I warrant thee, old lad, 'tis the privilege of poor
fools to talk before an intelligencer; marry, if I could
fool myself into a lordship, as I know some ha' fool'd[242]
themselves out of a lordship,--were I grown some huge
fellow, and got the leer of the people upon me, if the
fates had so decreed it,--I should talk treason, tho' I
ne'er open'd my lips. 256
_Herc._ Indeed![243] _fatis agimur, cedite fatis!_ But how
runs rumour?--what breath's strongest in the palace,
now? I think you know all.
_Don._ Yes, we fools think we know all. The prince
hath audience to-night,--is feasted, and after supper is
entertain'd with no comedy, masque, or barriers; but
with----
_Nym._ What, I prithee?
_Herod._ What, I prithee?
_Don._ With a most new and special shape of delight.
_Nym._ What, for Jove's sake? 267
_Don._ Marry, gallants, a session, a general council of
love, summon'd in the name of Don Cupid, to which,
upon pain of their mistress' displeasure, shall appear,--all
favour-wearers, sonnet-mongers, health-drinkers, and
neat enrichers[244] of barbers and perfumers; and to conclude,
all that can wyhee or wag the tail, are, upon grievous
pains of their back, summon'd to be assistant in that
session of love.
_Herc._ Hold! hold! Do not pall the delight before it
come to our palate; and what other rumour keeps air
in[245] men's lungs?
_Don._ O, the egregiousness of folly! Ha' you not
heard of Don Zuccone? 280
_Nym._ What of him, good fool?
_Don._ He is separated.
_Nym._ Divorced?
_Don._ That salt,--that criticism,--that very all epigram
of a woman,--that analysis,--that compendium of wittiness!
_Nym._ Now, Jesu, what words the fool has!
_Don._ We ha' still such words, but I will not unshale
the jest before it be ripe, and therefore, kissing your
worship's fingers, in most sweet terms, without any sense,
and with most fair looks, without any good meaning,
I most courtlike take my leave, _basilus_[246] _manus de vostro
signioria_. 293
_Herod._ Stay, fool, we'll follow thee: for, 'fore Heaven,
we must prepare ourselves for this session.
[_Exeunt._
_Enter_ ZUCCONE, _pursued by_ ZOYA, _on her knees
attended by Ladies_.
_Zuc._ I will have no mercy, I will not relent;--Justice'
beard is shaven, and it shall give thee no hold. I am
separated, and I will be separated.
_Zoy._ Dear my lord, husband!
_Zuc._ Hence, creature! I am none of thy husband, or
father of thy bastard. No, I will be tyrannous, and a
most deep revenger: the order shall stand. Ha, thou
quean, I ha' no wife now! 303
_Zoy._ Sweet my lord!
_Zuc._ Hence! avaunt! I will marry a woman with no
womb,--a creature with two noses,--a wench with no
hair,--rather than remarry thee! Nay, I will first marry,--mark
me, I will first marry,--observe me, I will rather
marry a woman that with thirst drinks the blood of man!
nay, heed me, a woman that will thrust in crowds,--a
lady, that, being with child, ventures the hope of her
womb,--nay, gives two crowns for a room to behold a
goodly man[247] three parts alive quartered, his privities
hackled off, his belly lanch'd[248] up! Nay, I'll rather marry
a woman to whom these smoking, hideous, bloodful, horrid,
tho' most just spectacles, are very lust, rather than reaccept
thee. Was I not a handsome fellow, from my foot
to my feather? Had I not wit?--nay, which is more,
was I not a Don, and didst thou Acteon me? Did I not
make thee a lady? 320
_Herc._ And did she not make you a more worshipful
thing,--a cuckold!
_Zuc._ I married thee in hope of children.
_Herc._ And has not she showed herself fruitful that was
got with child without help of her husband?
_Zuc._ Ha, thou ungrateful, immodest, unwise, and one[249]
that, God's my witness, I ha' lov'd! But, go thy ways;
twist with whom thou wilt: for my part, tha'st spun a
fair thread;--who'll kiss thee now,--who'll court thee
now,--who'll ha' thee now? 330
_Zoy._ Pity the frailty of my sex, sweet lord.
_Zuc._ No; pity is a fool, and I will not wear his[250] coxcomb.
I have vowed to loathe thee. The Irishman shall
hate _aqua vitae_,--the Welshman cheese,--the Dutchman
shall loath salt butter,--before I relove thee. Does the
babe pule? Thou shouldst ha' cried before, 'tis too late
now. No, the trees in autumn shall sooner call back
the spring with shedding of their leaves, than thou reverse
my just, irrevocable hatred with thy tears. Away! go!
vaunt! 340
[_Exeunt_ ZOYA _and the Ladies_.
_Herc._ Nay, but most of this is your fault, that for many
years, only upon mere mistrust, sever'd your body from
your lady, and in that time gave opportunity, turn'd a
jealous ass, and hired[251] some to try and tempt your
lady's honour, whilst she, with all possible industry of
apparent merit, diverting your unfortunate suspicion----
_Zuc._ I know't; I confess, all this I did, and I do
glory in't. Why? cannot a young lady for many months
keep honest? No, I misthought it. My wife had wit,
beauty, health, good birth, fair clothes, and a passing
body; a lady of rare discourse, quick eye, sweet language,
alluring behaviour, and exquisite entertainment.
I misthought it, I fear'd, I doubted, and at the last I
found it out. I praise my wit: I knew I was a cuckold.
_Herc._ An excellent wit. 355
_Zuc._ True, Fawn; you shall read of some lords that
have had such a wit, I can tell you; and I found it out
that I was a cuckold!
_Herc._ Which now you have found, you will not be such
an ass as Cæsar, great Pompey, Lucullus, Anthony, or
Cato, and divers other Romans,--cuckolds, who all knew
it, and yet were ne'er divorced upon't:--or, like that
smith-god, Vulcan, who, having taken his wife taking,
yet was presently appeased, and entreated to make an
armour for a bastard of hers, Æneas.[252] 365
_Zuc._ No, the Romans were asses, and thought that a
woman might mix her thigh with a stranger wantonly,
and yet still love her husband matrimonially.
_Herc._ As indeed they say a many married men lie sometime
with strange women, whom, but for the instant use,
they abhor.
_Zuc._ And as for Vulcan, 'twas humanity more than
human; such excess of goodness, for my part, only belong
to the gods.
_Herc._ Ass for you!
_Zuc._ As for me, my Fawn, I am a bachelor now.
_Herc._ But you are a cuckold still, and one that knows
himself to be a cuckold.
_Zuc._ Right, that's it; and I knew it not, 'twere nothing;
and if I had not pursued it too, it had lyen in oblivion,
and shadowed in doubt, but now I ha' blazed it. 381
_Herc._ The world shall know what you are.
_Zuc._ True; I'll pocket up no horns; but my revenge
shall speak in thunder.
_Herc._ Indeed, I must confess I know twenty are cuckolds,[253]
honestly and decently enough: a worthy gallant
spirit (whose virtue suppresseth his mishap) is lamented
but not disesteem'd by it; yet the world shall know----
_Zuc._ I am none of those silent coxcombs--it shall out.
_Herc._ And although it be no great part of injustice for
him to be struck with the scabbard that has struck with
the blade (for there is few of us but hath made some one
cuckold or other)---- 393
_Zuc._ True, I ha' done't myself.
_Herc._ Yet----
_Zuc._ Yet I hope a man of wit may prevent his own
mishap, or if he can prevent it----
_Herc._ Yet----
_Zuc._ Yet make it known yet, and so known that the
world may tremble with only thinking of it. Well,
Fawn, whom shall I marry now? O Heaven! that God
made for a man no other means of procreation and maintaining
the world peopled but by women! O![254] that we
could increase like roses, by being slipp'd one from
another,[255]--or like flies, procreate with blowing, or any
other way than by a woman,--by women, who have no
reason in their love or mercy in their hate, no rule in
their pity, no pity in their revenge, no judgment to speak,
and yet no patience to hold their tongues;
Man's opposite, the more held down, they swell; 410
Above them naught but will, beneath them naught but hell.
_Herc._ Or, that since Heaven hath given us no other
means to allay our furious appetite, no other way of increasing
our progeny,--since we must entreat and beg
for assuagement of our passions, and entertainment of
our affections,--why did not Heaven make us a nobler
creature than women, to show unto?--some admirable
deity, of an uncorruptible beauty, that might[256] be worth
our knees, the expense of our heat, and the crinkling of
our hams.[257] 420
_Zuc._ But that we must court, sonnet, flatter, bribe,
kneel, sue to so feeble and imperfect, inconstant, idle,
vain, hollow bubble, as woman is! O, my Fawn![258]
_Herc._ O, my lord, look who here comes!
_Enter_ ZOYA, _supported by a Gentleman Usher, followed by_
HEROD _and_ NYMPHADORO, _with much state; soft
music playing_.
_Zuc._ Death o' man! is she delivered?
_Herc._ Delivered! Yes, O my Don, delivered! Yes,
Donna Zoya,--the grace of society,--the music of sweetly
agreeing perfection,--more clearly chaste than ice or
frozen rain,--that glory of her sex,--that wonder of wit,--that
beauty more fresh'd than any cool and trembling
wind,--that now only wish of a man,--is delivered!--is
delivered! 432
_Zuc._ How?
_Herc._ From Don Zuccone, that dry scaliness,--that
sarpego,--that barren drouth, and shame of all humanity!
_Zoy._ What fellow's that?
_Nym._ Don Zuccone, your sometime husband.
_Enter_ PHILOCALIA.
_Zoy._ Alas! poor creature.
_Phil._ The princess prays your company.
_Zoy._ I wait upon her pleasure. 440
[_All but_ HERCULES, ZUCCONE, HEROD, _and_
NYMPHADORO, _depart_.
_Zuc._ Gentleman, why hazard you your reputation in
shameful company with such a branded creature?
_Herod._ Miserable man! whose fortune were beyond
tears to be pitied, but that thou art the ridiculous author
of thine own laugh'd-at mischief.
_Zuc._ Without paraphrase, your meaning?
_Nym._ Why, thou woman's fool?
_Zuc._ Good gentlemen, let one die but once.
_Herod._ Was not thou most curstfully mad to sever
thyself from such an unequall'd rarity? 450
_Zuc._ Is she not a strumpet? Is she not with child?
_Nym._ Yes, with feathers.
_Herc._ Why, weakness of reason, couldst not perceive
all was feign'd to be rid of thee?
_Zuc._ Of me?
_Nym._ She with child? Untrodden snow is not so
spotless!
_Herod._ Chaste as the first voice of a new-born infant!
_Herc._ Know, she grew loathing of thy jealousy!
_Nym._ Thy most pernicious curiosity. 460
_Herc._ Whose suspicions made her inimitable graces
motive of thy base jealousy.
_Herod._ Why, beast of man!
_Nym._ Wretched above expression! that snored'st over
a beauty which thousands desired!--neglectedst[259] her bed,
for whose enjoying a very saint would have sued!
_Herc._ Defamed her!
_Herod._ Suggested privily against her!
_Nym._ Gave foul language publicly of her! 469
_Herc._ And now, lastly, done that for her which she only
pray'd for, and wish'd as wholesome air for, namely, to be
rid from such an unworthy--
_Herod._ Senseless--
_Nym._ Injurious--
_Herc._ Malicious--
_Herod._ Suspicious--
_Nym._ Misshaped--
_Herc._ Ill-languaged--
_Herod._ Unworthy--
_Nym._ Ridiculous-- 480
_Herc._ Jealous--
_Herod._ Arch coxcomb as thou art!
[_Exeunt_ NYMPHADORO _and_ HEROD.
_Zuc._ O I am sick!--my blood has the cramp! my
stomach o'erturns!--O I am very sick!
_Herc._ Why, my sweet Don, you are no cuckold!
_Zuc._[260] That's the grief on't.
_Herc._ That's----
_Zuc._ That I ha' wrong'd so sweet (and now, in my
knowledge), so delicate a creature! O methinks I embrace
her yet! 490
_Herc._ Alas! my lord, you have done her no wrong--no
wrong in the world; you have done her a pleasure--a
great pleasure! A thousand gentlemen--nay, dukes--will
be proud to accept your leavings--your leavings!
Now is she courted! This heir sends her jewels, that
lord proffers her jointures, t'other knight proclaims challenges
to maintain her the only not beautiful, but very
beauty of women.
_Zuc._ But I shall never embrace her more! 499
_Herc._ Nay, that's true--that's most true. I would not
afflict you, only think how unrelentless you were to her
but supposed fault.
_Zuc._ O! 'tis true--too true!
_Herc._ Think how you scorn'd her tears!
_Zuc._ Most right!
_Herc._ Tears that were only shed (I would not vex you)
in very grief to see you covet your own shame!
_Zuc._ Too true--too true!
_Herc._ For, indeed, she is the sweetest modest soul, the
fullest of pity! 510
_Zuc._ O[261] ay! O ay!
_Herc._ The softness and very courtesy of her sex, as one
that never lov'd any----
_Zuc._ But me!
_Herc._ So much that he might hope to dishonour her,
nor any so little that he might fear she disdain'd[262] him.
O! the graces made her a soul as soft as spotless down
upon the swan's fair breast that drew bright Cytherea's
chariot. Yet think (I would not vex you), yet think how
cruel[263] you were to her. 520
_Zuc._ As a tiger--as a very tiger!
_Herc._ And never hope to be reconciled, never dream
to be reconciled--never!
_Zuc._ Never! Alas! good Fawn, what wouldst wish
me to do now?
_Herc._ Faith, go hang yourself, my Don; that's best,
sure.
_Zuc._ Nay, that's too good; for I'll do worse than that--I'll
marry again. Where canst pick out a morsel for
me, Fawn? 530
_Herc._ There is a modest, matron-like creature----
_Zuc._ What years, Fawn?
_Herc._ Some fourscore, wanting one.
_Zuc._ A good sober age! Is she wealthy?
_Herc._ Very wealthy.
_Zuc._ Excellent!
_Herc._ She has three hairs on her scalp and four teeth
in her head; a brow wrinkled and pucker'd like old
parchment half burnt. She has had eyes. No woman's
jawbones are more apparent; her sometimes envious
lips now shrink in, and give her nose and her chin leave
to kiss each other very moistly. As for her reverend
mouth, it seldom opens, but the very breath that flies
out of it infects the fowls of the air, and makes them
drop down dead. Her breasts hang like cobwebs;
her flesh will never make you cuckold; her bones
may. 547
_Zuc._ But is she wealthy?
_Herc._ Very wealthy.
_Zuc._ And will she ha' me, art sure?
_Herc._ No, sure, she will not have you. Why, do you
think that a waiting-woman of three bastards, a strumpet
nine times carted, or a hag whose eyes shoot poison--that
has been an old witch, and is now turning into a
gib-cat,[264]--what![265] will ha' you? Marry Don Zuccone, the
contempt of women and the shame of men, that has afflicted,
contemn'd so choice a perfection as Donna Zoya's! 557
_Zuc._ Alas! Fawn, I confess. What wouldst ha' me do?
_Herc._ Hang yourself! You shall not marry--you
cannot. I'll tell ye what ye shall do: there is a ship of
fools setting forth; if you make[266] good means, and intreat
hard, you may obtain a passage, man--be master's mate,
I warrant you.
_Zuc._ Fawn, thou art a scurvy bitter knave, and dost
flout Dons to their faces; 'twas thou flattered'st me to
this, and now thou laugh'st at me, dost? though indeed
I had a certain proclivity, but thou madest me resolute:
dost grin and gern?[267] O you comforters of life, helps
in sickness, joys in death, and preservers of us, in our
children, after death, women, have mercy on me! 570
_Herc._ O my Don, that God made no other means of
procreation but by these women! I speak it not to vex
you.
_Zuc._ O Fawn, thou hast no mercy in thee: dost thou
leer on me? Well, I'll creep upon my knees to my wife:
dost laugh at me? dost gern at me? dost smile? dost
leer on me, dost thou? O I am an ass; true, I am a
coxcomb; well, I am mad; good: a mischief on your
cogging tongue, your soothing throat, your oily jaws, your
supple hams,[268] your dissembling smiles, and O the grand
devil on you all! When mischief favours our fortunes,
and we are miserably,[269] tho' justly wretched, 582
More pity, comfort, and more help we have
In foes profess'd, than in a flattering knave.
[_Exit._
_Herc._ Thus few strike sail until they run on shelf;
The eye sees all things but his proper self;
In all things curiosity hath been
Vicious at least, but herein most pernicious.
What madness is't to search and find a wound
For which there is no cure, and which unfound 590
Ne'er rankles, whose finding only wounds?
But he that upon vain surmise forsakes
His bed thus long, only to search his shame;
Gives to his wife youth, opportunity,
Keeps her in idleful deliciousness,
Heats and inflames imagination,
Provokes her to revenge with churlish wrongs,--
What should he hope but this? Why should it lie in women,
Or even in chastity itself (since chastity's a female),
T' avoid desires so ripened, such sweets so candied? 600
But she that hath out-born such mass of wrongs,
Out-dured all persecutions, all contempts,
Suspects, disgrace, all wants, and all the mischief,
The baseness of a canker'd churl could cast upon her,
With constant virtue, best feign'd[270] chastity,
And in the end turns all his jealousies
To his own scorn, that lady, I implore,
It may be lawful not to praise, but even adore.
_Enter_ GONZAGO, GRANUFFO, _with full state. Enter the
Cornets sounding._
_Gon._ Are our sports ready? is the prince at hand?
_Herc._ The prince is now arrived at the court gate. 610
_Gon._ What means our daughter's breathless haste?
_Enter_ DULCIMEL _in haste_.
_Dul._ O my princely father, now or never let your
princely wisdom appear!
_Gon._ Fear not, our daughter, if it rest within human
reason, I warrant thee; no, I warrant thee, Granuffo, if
it rest in man's capacity. Speak, dear daughter.
_Dul._ My lord, the prince----
_Gon._ The prince, what of him, dear daughter?
_Dul._ O Lord, what wisdom our good parents need to
shield their chickens from deceits and wiles of kite-like
youth! 621
_Gon._ Her very phrase displays whose child she is.
_Dul._ Alas! had not your grace been provident,
A very Nestor in advice and knowledge,
Ha! where had you, poor Dulcimel, been now?
What vainness had not I been drawn into!
_Gon._ 'Fore God! she speaks very passionately. Alas!
daughter, Heaven gives every man his talent; indeed,
virtue and wisdom are not fortune's gifts, therefore those
that fortune cannot make virtuous, she commonly makes
rich; for our own part, we acknowledge Heaven's goodness;
and, if it were possible to be as wise again as we
are, we would ne'er impute it to ourselves: for, as we be
flesh and blood, alas! we are fools; but as we are princes,
scholars, and have read _Cicero de Oratore_, I must confess
there is another matter in't. What of the prince, dear
daughter? 637
_Dul._ Father, do you see that tree, that leans just on
my chamber window?
_Gon._ What of that tree?
_Enter_ TIBERIO _with his train_.
_Dul._ O, sir, but note the policy of youth;
Mark but the stratagems of working love.
The prince salutes me, and thus greets my ear.
_Gon._ Speak softly; he is enter'd.
_Dul._ Although he knew I yet stood wavering what to
elect, because, though I affected, yet destitute of means
to enjoy each other, impossibility of having might kill
our hope and with our hope desires to enjoy, therefore,
to avoid all faint excuses and vain fears, thus he devised--To
Dulcimel's chamber-window 650
A well-grown plane tree spreads his happy arms
By that, in depth of night, one may ascend
(Despite all father's jealousies and fears)
Into her bed.
_Gon._ Speak low; the prince both marks and listens.
_Dul._ You shall provide a priest (quoth he). In truth
I promised, and so you well may tell him; for I temporised,
and only held him off----
_Gon._ Politely; our daughter to a hair.
_Dul._ With full intention to disclose it all to your preventing
wisdom.
_Gon._ Ay, let me alone for that; but when intends he
this invasion?--when will this squirrel climb? 663
_Dul._ O, sir, in that is all:--when but this night?
_Gon._ This night?
_Dul._ This very night, when the court revels had o'erwaked
your spirits, and made them full of sleep,
then----
_Gon._ Then, _verbum sat sapienti_! Go, take your
chamber, down upon your knees; thank God your father
is no foolish sot, but one that can foresee and see. 671
[_Exit_ DULCIMEL.
My lord, we discharge your presence from our court.
_Tib._ What means the duke?
_Gon._ And if to-morrow past you rest in Urbin,
The privilege of an ambassador
Is taken from you.
_Tib._ Good, your grace: some reason?
_Gon._ What! twice admonish'd, twice again offending,
And, now grown blushless? You promis'd to get into
Her chamber, she to get a priest:
Indeed she wish'd me tell you she confess'd it: 680
And there, despite all father's jealous fears,
To consummate full joys. Know, sir, our daughter
Is our daughter, and has wit at will
To gull a thousand easy things like you.
But, sir, depart: the parliament prepar'd,
Shall on without you: all the court this night
Shall triumph that our daughter has escaped
Her honour's blowing up: your end you see
We speak but short but full, Socratice.
[_Exeunt all but_ HERCULES _and_ TIBERIO.
_Tib._ What should I think, what hope, what but imagine 690
Of these enigmas?[271]
_Herc._ Sure, sir, the lady loves you
With violent passion, and this night prepares
A priest with nuptial rites, to entertain you
In her most private chamber.
_Tib._ This I know,
With too much torture, since means are all unknown
To come unto these ends. Where's this her chamber?
Then what means shall without suspicion
Convey me to her chamber? O these doubts
End in despair----
_Enter_ GONZAGO _hastily_.
_Gon._ Sir, sir, this plane-tree was not planted here 700
To get into my daughter's chamber, and so she pray'd me tell you.
What though the main arms spread into her window,
And easy labour climbs it, sir, know
She has a voice to speak, and bid you welcome
With so full breast that both your ears shall hear on't,
And so she pray'd me tell you. Ha' we no brain!
Youth thinks that age, age knows that youth is vain.
[_Exit._
_Tib._ Why, now I have it, Fawn,--the way, the means,
and meaning. Good duke, and 'twere not for pity, I
could laugh at thee. Dulcimel, I am thine most miraculously;
I will now begin to sigh, read poets, look
pale, go neatly, and be most apparently in love; as
for---- 713
_Herc._ As for your old father----
_Tib._ Alas! he and all know, this an old saw hath bin,
Faith's breach for love and kingdoms is no sin.
[_Exit._
_Herc._ Where are we now, Cyllenian Mercury?
And thou, quick issue[272] of Jove's broken pate,
Aid and direct us; you better stars to knowledge,
Sweet constellations, that affect[273] pure oil, 720
And holy vigil of the pale-cheek'd muses,
Give your best influence, that with able spright
We may correct and please, giving full light
To every angle of this various sense:
Works of strong birth end better than commence.
[_Exit._
[222] As I am not sure whether we should read "Master" or
"Messer," (_Ital._), I follow the old copies.
[223] "Black-guard"--the kitchen-drudges.
[224] "And who not, shall"--omitted in ed. 3. and some copies of
ed. 1.
[225] "Would"--omitted in ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1.
[226] So Dilke.--Old eds. "costly."
[227] Pilchard.--"If Cornish pilchards, otherwise called
_fumadoes_, be so saleable as they are in France, Spain, and
Italy," &c.--Nash's _Lenten Stuff_.
[228] Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1. "maidens."
[229] Ed. 1. "laide."--Ed. 3. "layd."
[230] Omitted in ed. 3.
[231] Large sleeves, stuffed with wool, hair, &c.
[232] Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1. "follow."
[233] Shelling.
[234] Ed. 3. "upon fair Madonna."
[235] Ed. 3. "were."
[236] Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1. "as."
[237] Ed. 3. and some copies of ed. 1. "doubtlest."
[238] "With a wet finger"--nimbly, easily.
[239] Eds. 1. and 3. "place and place."
[240] Probably a hit at Ben Jonson, who in _Volpone_ (acted in
1605) makes _laughter_ rhyme with _slaughter_:--
"E'en his face begetteth laughter,
And he speaks truth free from slaughter" (i. 1).
[241] Eds. 1. and 2. "philosopher."
[242] So ed. 3.--Eds. 1. and 2. "foole."
[243] Eds. 1. and 3. omit "Indeed," and read "_In fatis agimur_."
[244] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "in riches."
[245] Ed. 1. "on."
[246] "_Basilus manus_"--corrupt Spanish (for _besár los manos_).
Cf. Dyce's _Beaumont and Fletcher_, viii. 77; _Old Plays_, ed.
Bullen, ii. 114, iv. 316, &c.
[247] Possibly there is an allusion to the execution of Sir
Everard Digby, who, for his share in the Gunpowder Plot, was
drawn, hanged, and quartered on 30th January 1606. Cf. Middleton,
i. 255.
[248] _Lanch_ was an old form of _lance_. Cf. 1 _Tamburlaine_, i.
2:--
"And either _lanch_ his greedy thirsting throat,
Or take him prisoner."
[249] Omitted in eds. 1. and 3.
[250] Ed. 2. "hir."
[251] Ed. 1. "heard some so try."
[252] Omitted in eds. 1. and 3.
[253] Eds. 1. and 3. "cuckolds, and decently and stately enough."
[254] I have followed the reading of ed. 2. Eds. 1. and 3.
read:--"O that we could get one another with child, Fawn, or like
flies," &c.
[255] The reader will recall a famous passage of Sir Thomas
Browne's _Religio Medici_:--"I could be content that we might
procreate like trees, without conjunction, or that there were any
way to perpetuate the world without this trivial and vulgar way
of union: it is the foolishest act a wise man commits in all his
life." Montaigne has some reflections of a similar kind. See also
the complaint in Euripides' _Hippolytus_, ll. 616-24.
[256] "Might"--omitted in ed. 1.
[257] "Hams"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.
[258] Ed. 1. "face."--Ed. 3. "fate."
[259] So ed. 3.--Eds. 1. and 2. "neglecst."
[260] Eds. 1. and 3. read:--"Thats the griefe on't _Herc._
[_Hercules_, ed. 3.] thats the griefe ont that I," &c.
[261] Ed. 2. "O yes! O yes!"
[262] Eds. 1. and 3. "disclaim'd."
[263] Ed. 1. "ciuill."
[264] A spayed cat.--"Why witches are turned into cats, he
[Bodin] alledgeth no reason, and therefore (to help him forth
with that paraphrase) I say that witches are curst queans, and
many times scratch one another or their neighbours by the faces;
and therefore perchance are turned into cats. But I have put
twenty of these witchmongers to silence with one question: to
wit--whether a witch that can turn a woman into cat can also turn
a cat into a woman."--Scot's _Discovery of Witchcraft_, book v.,
chap. 1.
[265] Omitted in ed. 2.
[266] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "see" and "seek."
[267] "Gern" = snarl.
[268] Eds. 1. and 3. "thumbes."
[269] Eds. 1. and 3. "miserable."
[270] Quy. "'fined" (= refined)?
[271] Eds. 1. and 3. "engines."
[272] Eds. 1. and 3. "messenger."
[273] Eds. 1. and 3. "effect."
ACT V.
SCENE I.
_Courtyard of the Palace._
_Whilst the Act is a-playing_, HERCULES _and_ TIBERIO
_enters_; TIBERIO _climbs the tree, and is received above
by_ DULCIMEL, PHILOCALIA, _and a Priest_: HERCULES
_stays beneath_.
_Herc._ Thou mother of chaste dew, night's modest lamp,
Thou by whose faint shine the blushing lovers
Join glowing cheeks, and mix their trembling lips
In vows well kiss'd, rise all as full of splendour
As my breast is of joy! You genital,
You fruitful well-mix'd heats, O, bless the sheets
Of yonder chamber, that Ferrara's dukedom,
The race of princely issue, be not curs'd,
And ended in abhorrèd barrenness!
At length kill all my fears, nor let it rest 10
Once more my tremblings that my too cold son
(That ever-scorner of humaner loves)
Will still contemn the sweets of marriage,
Still kill[274] our hope of name in his dull coldness.
Let it be lawful to make use, ye powers,[275]
Of human weakness, that pursueth still
What is inhibited, and most affects
What is most difficult to be obtain'd:
So we may learn, that nicer love's a shade--
It follows fled, pursued flies as afraid: 20
And in the end close all the various errors
Of passages most truly comical
In moral learning with like confidence
Of him that vow'd good fortune of the scene
Shall neither make him fat, or bad make lean.
_Enter_ DONDOLO _laughing_.
_Don._ Ha, ha, ha!
_Herc._ Why dost laugh, fool, here's nobody with thee?
_Don._ Why, therefore do I laugh, because there's nobody
with me. Would I were a fool alone! I'faith, I
am come to attend--let me go,--I am sent to the princess,
to come and attend her father to the end of Cupid's Parliament. 32
_Herc._ Why, ha' they sat already upon any statutes?
_Don._ Sat? ay, all's agreed in the nether house!
_Herc._ Why, are they divided?
_Don._ O ay, in Cupid's Parliament all the young gallants
are o' the nether house, and all the old signiors that
can but only kiss are of the upper house. Is the princess
above?
_Herc._ No, sure; I think the princess is beneath, man.
Ha' they supp'd, fool? 41
_Don._ O yes, the confusion of tongues at the large table
is broke up, for see the presence fills. A fool, a fool, a
fool, my coxcomb for a fool!
_Enter_ SIR AMOROUS, HEROD, NYMPHADORO, GARBETZA,
DONNETTA, _and_ POVEIA.
_Herod._ Stop, ass; what's matter, idiot?
_Don._ O gallants, my fools that were appointed to
wait on Don Cupid have launch'd out their ship to purge
their stomachs on the water, and before Jupiter, I fear
they will prove defective in their attendance. 49
_Herod._ Pish, fool, they'll float in with the next tide.
_Don._ Ay, but when's that? Let's see mine almanack
or prognostication.
_Sir Amor._ What, is this for this year?
_Don._ In true wisdom, sir, it is. Let me see the moon,
'fore pity 'tis in the wayne. What grief is this, that so
great a planet should ever decline or lose splendour!
Full sea at----
_Sir Amor._ Where's the sign now, fool?
_Don._ In Capricorn, Sir Amoroso.
_Gar._ What strange thing does this almanack speak of,
fool? 61
_Don._ Is this your lady, Sir Amorous?
_Sir Amor._ It is; kiss her, fool.
_Herod._ You may kiss her now, she is married.
_Sir Amor._ So he might ha' done before.
_Don._ In sober modesty, sir, I do not use to do it behind.
_Herod._ Good fool, be acquainted with this lady too;
she's of a very honest nature, I assure thee.
_Don._ I easily believe you, sir, for she hath a very vile[276]
face, I assure you. 70
_Gar._ But what strange things does thy almanack speak
of, good fool?
_Don._ That this year no child shall be begotten but
shall have a true father.
_Sir Amor._ That's good news, i'faith. I am glad I got
my wife with child this year.
_Herc._ Why, Sir Amorous, this may be, and yet you not
the true father--may it not, Herod?
_Gar._ But what more says it, good Fawn? 79
_Herod._ Faith, lady, very strange things! It says that
some ladies of your hair shall have feeble hams, short
memories, and very weak eyesight, so that they shall
mistake their own page, or even brother-in-law, sometimes
for their husbands.
_Sir Amor._ Is that all, Fawn?
_Herc._ No, Sir Amorous; here's likewise prophesied a
great scarcity of gentry to ensue, so that some bores
shall be dubbed Sir Amoroso. A great scarcity of
lawyers is likewise this year to ensue, so that some one
of them shall be entreated to take fees o' both sides. 90
_Enter_ DON ZUCCONE, _following_ DONNA ZOYA
_on his knees_.
_Zuc._ Most dear, dear lady! Wife, lady, wife! O do
not but look on me, and ha' some mercy!
_Zoy._ I will ha' no mercy!--I will not relent!
_Zuc._ Sweet lady!
_Zoy._ The order shall stand; I am separated, and I
will be separated!
_Zuc._ Dear! my love! wife!
_Zoy._ Hence, fellow! I am none of thy wife! No, I
will be tyrannous and a most deep revenger. The order
shall stand! I will marry a fellow that keeps a fox in
his bosom, a goat under his armholes, and a polecat in
his mouth, rather than reaccept thee. 102
_Zuc._ Alas! by the Lord, lady, what should I say? As
Heaven shall bless me--what should I say?
_Herod._ Kneel and cry, man!
_Zoy._ Was I not handsome, generous, honest enough
from my foot to my feather, for such a fellow as thou
art?
_Zuc._ Alas! I confess--I confess!
_Zoy._ But go thy ways, and wive with whom thou
wilt, for my part. Thou hast spun a fair thread. Who'll
kiss thee now? who'll court thee now? who'll ha' thee
now? 113
_Zuc._ Yet be a woman; and, for God's sake, help
me!
_Herod._ And do not stand too stiffly.
_Zuc._ And do not stand too stiffly! Do you make an
ass of me? But let these rascals laugh at me. Alas!
what[277] could I do withal? 'twas my destiny that I should
abuse you! 120
_Zoy._ So it is your destiny that I should thus revenge
your abuse. No, the Irishman shall hate _aqua vitæ_, the
Welshman cheese, and the Dutchman salt butter, before
I'll love or receive thee. Does he cry? does the babe
pule? 'Tis too late now--thou shouldst ha' cried before--'tis
too late now. Go, bury thy head in silence; and
let oblivion be thy utmost hope.
[_The Courtiers address themselves to dancing, whilst
the Duke enters with_ GRANUFFO, _and takes
his state_.[278]
_Herc._ Gallants, to dancing. Loud music, the duke's
upon entrance!
_Gon._ Are the sports ready? 130
_Herc._ Ready.
_Gon._ 'Tis enough. Of whose invention is this parliament?
_Herc._ Ours.
_Gon._ 'Tis enough.
This night we will exult! O let this night
Be ever memorised with prouder triumphs--
Let it be writ in lasting character
That this night our great wisdom did discover
So close a practice--that this night, I say, 140
Our policy found out, nay, dash'd the drifts
Of the young prince, and put him to his shifts,
Nay, past his shifts ('fore Jove! we could make a good poet).--
Delight us. On! we deign our princely ear--
We are well pleased to grace you;[279] then scorn fear.
[_Cornets playing._ DRUNKENNESS, SLOTH, PRIDE, _and_
PLENTY _lead_ CUPID _to his state, who is
followed by_ FOLLY, WAR, BEGGARY, _and_
SLAUGHTER.[280]
Stand, 'tis wisdom to acknowledge ignorance
Of what we know not; we would not now prove foolish.
Expound the meaning of your show.
_Herc._ Triumphant Cupid, that sleeps on the soft cheek
Of rarest beauty, whose throne's in ladies' eyes;-- 150
Who[281] forced writhed lightning from Jove's shaking hand,
Forced strong Alcides to resign his club,
Pluck'd Neptune's trident from his mighty arm,
Unhelmèd Mars;--he (with those trophies borne,
Led in by Sloth, Pride, Plenty, Drunkenness,
Follow'd by Folly, War, Slaughter,[282] Beggary)
Takes his fair throne. Sit pleased; for now we move,
And speak not for our glory but for love.
[HERCULES _takes a bowl of wine_.
_Gon._ A pretty figure.
What, begins this session with ceremony? 160
_Herc._ With a full health to our great mistress, Venus,
Let every state of Cupid's parliament
Begin the session, _et quod bonum faustumque sit precor_.
[HERCULES _drinks a health_.
_Gon._ Give't us; we'll pledge: nor shall a man that lives,
In charity refuse it. I will not be so old
As not be graced to honour Cupid. Give't us full.
When we were young we could ha' troll'd it off,
Drunk down a Dutchman.
_Herc._ 'Tis lamentable; pity your grace has forgot it.
Drunkenness! O 'tis a most fluent and swelling virtue;
sure the most just of all virtues: 'tis justice itself; for,
if it chance to oppress and take too much, it presently
restores it again. It makes the king and the peasant
equal; for, if they are both drunk alike, they are both
beasts alike. As for that most precious light of heaven--Truth--if
Time be the father of her, I am sure Drunkenness
is oftentimes the mother of her, and brings her forth.
Drunkenness brings all out, for it brings all the drink out
of the pot, all the wit out of the pate, and all the money
out of the purse. 180
_Gon._ My Lord Granuffo, this Fawn is an excellent
fellow.
_Don._ Silence.
_Gon._ I warrant you for my lord here.
_Cup._ Since multitude of laws are signs either of much
tyranny in the prince or much rebellious disobedience in
the subject, we rather think it fit to study how to have
our old laws thoroughly executed, than to have new
statutes cumbrously invented.
_Gon._ Afore Jove, he speaks very well. 190
_Herc._ O, sir, Love is very eloquent, makes all men
good orators: himself then must needs be eloquent.
_Cup._ Let it therefore be the main of our assembly to
survey our old laws, and punish their transgressions; for
that continually the complaints of lovers ascend up to
our deity, that love is abused, and basely bought and
sold, beauty['s] corrupted, affection feign'd, and pleasure
herself sophisticated; that young gallants are proud in
appetite and weak in performance; that young ladies are
phantastically inconstant,--old ladies impudently unsatiate,--wives
complain of unmarried women, that they
steal the dues belonging to their sheets,--and maids
exclaim upon wives, that they unjustly engross all into
their own hands, as not content with their own husbands,
but also purloining that which should be their comfort.
Let us therefore be severe in our justice; and if any, of
what degree soever, have approvedly offended, let him be
instantly unpartially arrested and punished. Read our
statutes. 209
_Herc._ _A statute made in the five thousand four hundred
threescore and three year of the easeful reign of the mighty
potent Don Cupid, emperor[283] of sighs and protestations,
great king of kisses, archduke of dalliance, and sole loved
of her,[284] for the maintaining and relieving of his old soldiers,
maim'd or dismember'd in love._
_Don._ Those that are lightly hurt, shame to complain;
those that are deeply struck are past recovery.
_Cup._ On to the next.
_Herc._ _An act against the plurality of mistresses._
_Cup._ Read. 220
_Herc._ _Whereas some over amorous and unconscionable
covetous young gallants, without all grace of Venus, or the
fear of Cupid in their minds, have at one time engrossed
the care or cures of divers mistresses, with the charge of
ladies, into their own tenure or occupation,[285] whereby their
mistresses must of necessity be very ill and insufficiently
served, and likewise many able portly gallants live unfurnished
of competent entertainment, to the merit of their
bodies; and whereas likewise some other greedy strangers
have taken in the purlieus, outset land, and the ancient
commons of our sovereign liege Don Cupid, taking in his
very highways, and enclosing them, and annexing them to
their own lordships, to the much impoverishing and putting
of divers of Cupid's true hearts and loyal subjects to base
and abhominable[286] shifts: Be it therefore enacted, by the
sovereign authority and erected ensign of Don Cupid, with
the assent of some of the lords, most of the ladies, and all
the commons, that what person or persons soever shall, in
the trade of honour, presume to wear at one time two ladies'
favours, or at one time shall earnestly court two women in
the way of marriage, or if any under the degree of a duke
shall keep above twenty women of pleasure, a duke's brother
fifteen, a lord ten, a knight or a pensioner or both four,
a gentleman two, shall_ ipso facto _be arrested by folly's mace,
and instantly committed to the ship of fools, without either
bail or main prize_, Millesimo centesimo quingentesimo
quadragesimo nono Cupidinis semper unius.--Nymphadoro,
to the bar! 248
_Nym._ Shame o' folly, will Fawn now turn an informer?
Does he laugh at me?
_Herc._ Domina Garbetza, did he not ever protest you
were his most only elected mistress?
_Gar._ He did.
_Herc._ Domina Donella, did he not ever protest, you
were his most only elected mistress?
_Don._ He did.
_Herc._ Domina Poveia, did he not ever protest, that
you were his most only elected mistress?
_Pov._ He did.
_Nym._ Mercy! 260
_Cup._ Our mercy is nothing, unless some lady will beg
thee.
_Ladies._ Out upon him, dissembling, perfidious liar!
_Herc._ Indeed 'tis no reason ladies should beg liars.
_Nym._ Thus he that loveth many, if once known,
Is justly plagued to be belov'd of none.
[_Exit._
_Herc._ _An act against counterfeiting of Cupid's royal
coin, and abusing his subjects with false money._--To the
bar, Sir Amorous!--_In most lamentable form complaineth
to your blind celsitude your distressed orators, the women
of the world, that in respect that many spendthrifts, who
having exhausted and wasted their substance, and in
stranger parts have with empty shows, treasonably purchased
ladies' affections, without being of ability to pay
them for it with current money, and therefore have deceitfully
sought to satisfy them with counterfeit metal, to the
great displeasure and no small loss of your humblest
subjects: may it therefore with your pitiful assent
be enacted, that what lord, knight, or gentleman soever,
knowing himself insufficient, bankrout, exhausted, and
wasted, shall traitorously dare to entertain any lady, as
wife or mistress_, ipso facto _to be severed from all commercement
with women, his wife or mistress in that state offending
to be forgiven with a pardon of course, and himself
instantly to be pressed to sail in the ship of fools, without
either bail or main-prize_.--Sir Amorous is arrested. 286
_Sir Amor._[287] Judgment of the court.
_Herc._ I take my oath upon thy brother's body, 'tis
none of thine.
_Sir Amor._ By the heart of dissemblance, this Fawn
has wrought with us as strange tailors work in corporate
cities, where they are not free; all inward, inward he
lurk'd in the bosom of us, and yet we know not his
profession. Sir, let me have counsel?
_Herc._ 'Tis[288] in great Cupid's case; you may have no
counsel. 296
_Sir Amor._ Death[289] o' justice! are we in Normandy?
What is my lady's doom then?
_Cup._ Acquitted by the express parole of the statute.
Hence, and in thy ignorance be quietly happy. Away
with him--on!
_Herc._ _An act against forgers of love-letters, false braggarts
of ladies' favours, and vain boasters of counterfeit
tokens._
_Herod._ 'Tis I, 'tis I! I confess guilty, guilty! 305
_Herc._ I will be most humane and right courteously
languaged in thy correction, and only say, thy vice, from
apparent here, has made thee an apparent beggar, and
now of a false knave hath made thee a true fool. Folly
to the ship with him, and twice a day let him be duck'd
at the main-yard.
_Cup._ Proceed! 312
_Herc._ _An act against slanderers of Cupid's liege ladies'
names, and lewd defamers of their honours._
_Zuc._ 'Tis I, 'tis I! I weep and cry out, I have been a
most contumelious offender. My only cry is _Miserere!_
_Cup._ If your relenting lady will have pity on you,
The fault against our deity be pardoned.
_Zuc._ Madam, if ever I have found favour in your eyes,
if ever you have thought me a reasonable handsome
fellow, as I am sure before I had a beard you might,
O be merciful! 322
_Zoy._ Well, upon your apparent repentance, that all
modest spectators may witness I have for a short time
only thus feignedly hated you that you might ever after
truly love me, upon these cautions I reaccept you; first
you shall vow----
_Zuc._ I do vow, as Heaven bless me, I will do!
_Zoy._ What?
_Zuc._ Whate'er it be; say on, I beseech you. 330
_Zoy._ You shall vow----
_Zuc._ Yes.
_Zoy._ That you shall never----
_Zuc._ Never----
_Zoy._ Feign love to my waiting-woman or chamber-maid.
_Zuc._ No.
_Zoy._ Never promise them such a farm to their marriage----
_Zuc._ No.
_Zoy._ If she'll discover but whom I affect. 340
_Zuc._ Never.
_Zoy._ Or if they know none, that they'll but take a false
oath I do, only to be rid of me.
_Zuc._ I swear I will not; I will not only not counterfeitly
love your women, but I will truly hate them; an't
be possible, so far from maintaining them, that I will
beggar them. I will never pick their trunks for letters,
search their pockets, ruffle their bosoms, or tear their
foul smocks;--never! never!
_Zoy._ That if I chance to have a humour to be in a
masque, you shall not grow jealous. 351
_Zuc._ Never.
_Zoy._ Or grudge at the expense.
_Zuc._ Never! I will eat mine own arms first.
_Zoy._ That you shall not search, if my chamber-door
hinges be oil'd to avoid creaking.
_Zuc._ As I am a sensible creature.
_Zoy._ Nor ever suspect the reason why my bedchamber
floor is double-matted.
_Zuc._ Not, as I have blood in me. 360
_Zoy._ You shall vow to wear clean linen, and feed
wholesomely.
_Zuc._ Ay, and highly. I will take no more tobacco,
or come to your sheets drunk, or get wenches. I will
ever feed on fried frogs, broil'd[290] snails, and boil'd
lamb-stones;--I will adore thee more than a mortal,--observe
and serve you as more than a mistress,--do all duties of
a husband,--all offices of a man,--all services of thy
creature,--and ever live in thy pleasure, or die in thy
service. 370
_Zoy._ Then here my quarrel ends; thus cease all strife.
_Zuc._ Until they lose, men know not what's a wife.
We slight and dully view the lamp of heaven,
Because we daily see't, which but bereaved,
And held one little week from darken'd eyes,
With greedy wonder we should all admire;
Opinion[291] of command puts out love's fire.
_Herc._ _An act against mummers, false seemers, that
abuse ladies with counterfeit faces, courting only by signs,
and seeming wise only by silence._ 380
_Cup._ The penalty?
_Herc._ To be urged to speak, and then, if inward
ability answer not outward seeming, to be committed instantly
to the ship of fools during great Cupid's pleasure.--My
Lord Granuffo, to the bar! Speak, speak; is not
this law just?
_Gra._ Just, sure; for in good truth or in good sooth,
When wise men speak, they still must open their mouth.
_Herc._ The brazen head has spoken.
_Don._ Thou art arrested.
_Gra._ Me?
_Herc._ And judg'd: away!
[_Exit_ GRANUFFO.
_Gon._ Thus silence, with grave looks, with hums and haws, 391
Makes many worshipp'd, when if tried they're daws;
That's the morality or _l'envoy_ of it--
_L'envoy_ of it. On.
_Herc._ _An act against privy conspiracies, by which, if any
with ambitions wisdom shall hope and strive to outstrip
Love, to cross his words, and make frustrate his sweet
pleasure,--if such a presumptuous wisdom fall to nothing, and
die in laughter, the wizard so transgressing is_ ipso facto
_adjudged to offend in most deep treason, to forfeit all his wit
at the will of the lord, and be instantly committed to the
ship of fools for ever_. 401
_Gon._ Ay, marry, sir! O might OEdipus riddle me out
such a fellow! Of all creatures breathing, I do hate
those things that struggle to seem wise, and yet are indeed
very fools. I remember, when I was a young man,
in my father's days, there were four gallant spirits, for
resolution, as proper for body, as witty in discourse, as
any were in Europe, nay, Europe had not such; I was
one of them. We four did all love one lady,--a modest,
chaste virgin she was; we all enjoy'd her, I well remember,
and so enjoy'd her that, despite the strictest guard
was set upon her, we had her at our pleasure: I speak it
for her honour and my credit. Where shall you find such
witty fellows nowadays? Alas! how easy it is, in these
weaker times, to cross love-tricks. Ha! ha! ha! Alas!
I smile to think I must confess, with some glory[292] to
mine own wisdom, to think how I found out, and crossed,
and curb'd, and jerk'd, and firk'd, and in the end made
desperate Tiberio's hope. Alas! good silly youth, that
dares to cope with age and such a beard. I speak it
without glory. 421
_Herc._ But what yet might your well-known wisdom think,
If such a one, as being most severe,
A most protested opposite to the match
Of two young lovers,--who having barr'd them speech,
All interviews, all messages, all means,
To plot their wishèd ends,--even he himself
Was, by their cunning, made the go-between,
The only messenger, the token-carrier,
Told them the times when they might fitly meet, 430
Nay, show'd the way to one another's bed?
_Gon._ May one have the sight of such a fellow for nothing?
Doth there breathe such an egregious ass?
Is there such a foolish animal in _rerum natura_?
How is it possible such simplicity can exist? Let us not
lose our laughing at him, for God's sake! Let Folly's sceptre
light upon him, and to the ship of fools with him instantly!
_Don._ Of all these follies I arrest your grace.
_Gon._ Me? ha! me? me, varlet? me, fool? Ha! to
th' jail with him! What, varlet? call me ass?--me?
_Herc._ What! grave Urbin's duke? 441
Dares Folly's sceptre touch his prudent shoulders?
Is he a coxcomb? No, my lord is wise;
For we all know that Urbin's duke has eyes.
_Gon._ God ha' mercy, Fawn! Hold fast, varlet!
Hold thee, good Fawn!--railing reprobate!
_Herc._ Indeed, I must confess your grace did tell
And first did intimate your daughter's love
To otherwise most cold Tiberio;
After convey'd her private favour to him, 450
A curious scarf, wherein her needle wrought
Her private love to him.
_Gon._ What! I do this? Ha!
_Herc._ And last, by her persuasion, show'd the youth
The very way and best-elected time
To come unto her chamber.
_Gon._ Thus did I, sir?
_Herc._ Thus did you, sir; but I must confess
You meant not to do this, but were rankly gull'd--
Made a plain natural. This sure, sir, you did.
And in assurance, Prince Tiberio,
Renowned, witted Dulcimel, appear! 460
The acts of constant honour cannot fear.
[_Exit_ HERCULES.
TIBERIO _and_ DULCIMEL _above, are discovered hand
in hand_.
_Dul._ Royally wise and wisely royal father----
_Don._ That's sententious now--a figure call'd in art
Ironia.
_Dul._ I humbly thank your worthy piety
That through your only means I have obtained
So fit, [so] loving, and desired a husband.
_Gon._ Death o' discretion! if I should prove a fool
now. Am not I an ass, think you, ha? I will have
them both bound together, and sent to the Duke of
Ferrara presently. 471
_Tib._ I am sure, good father, we are both bound together
as fast as the priest can make us already. I thank
you for it, kind father; I thank you only for't.
HERCULES _enters in his own shape_.
_Herc._ And as for sending them to the Duke of Ferrara,
see, my good lord, Ferrara's o'erjoy'd prince meets thee
in fullest wish.
_Gon._ By the Lord! I am ashamed of myself, that's
the plain troth; but I know now wherefore this parliament[293]
was. What a slumber have I been in! 480
_Herc._ Never grieve nor wonder--all things sweetly
fit.
_Gon._ There is no folly to protested wit.
_Herc._ What still in wond'ring ignorance doth rest,
In private conference your dear-lov'd breast
Shall fully take.--But now we change our face.
EPILOGUS.
And thus, in bold yet modest phrase we end.
He whose Thalia with swiftest hand hath penn'd
This lighter subject, and hath boldly torn
Fresh bays from Daphne's arm, doth only scorn
Malicious censures of some envious few, 490
Who think they lose if others have their due:
But let such adders hiss; know, all the sting,
All the vain foam of all those snakes that ring
Minerva's glassful shield, can never taint,
Poison, or pierce; firm art disdains to faint:--
But yet of you that with impartial faces,
With no preparèd malice, but with graces
Of sober knowledge, have survey'd the frame
Of his slight scene, if you shall judge his flame
Distemperately weak, as faulty much 500
In style, in plot, in spirit; lo! if such,
He deigns, in self-accusing phrase, to crave
Not[294] praise, but pardon, which he hopes to have;
Since he protests he ever hath aspired
To be belovèd rather than admired.
[_Exeunt omnes._
[274] Ed. 1. "till."
[275] Ed. 1. "sowers."
[276] Eds. 1. and 3. "good."
[277] "What could I do withal?" = how could I help it?
[278] Throne, chair of state.
[279] Eds. 1. and 3. "him."
[280] Ed. 2. "Laughter."
[281] Old eds. "Whose force writh'd."
[282] Old eds. "Laughter."
[283] Compare Biron's famous soliloquy in _Love's Labour Lost_,
iii. 1.
[284] Ed. 2. "him."--Neither reading is intelligible.
[285] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Gloss._, s. OCCUPY.
[286] The old form of spelling (ridiculed in _Love's Labour
Lost_) from the erroneous derivation _ab homine_.
[287] Eds. 1. and 3. "_Don. Amor._ Sir Judgement of the
countrie."
[288] Ed. 1. "'Tis in great case."--Ed. 3. "'Tis in a great
case."
[289] Eds. 1. and 3. "_Sir_ death," &c.
[290] Eds. 1. and 3. "wild."
[291] Ed. 1. "And prowde hayht."--Ed. 3. "And proud height."
[292] Boasting.
[293] Omitted in eds. 1. and 3.
[294] Old eds. "For praise."
THE WONDER OF WOMEN;
OR,
THE TRAGEDY OF
SOPHONISBA.
_The Wonder of Women Or The Tragedie of Sophonisba, as it hath beene
sundry times Acted at the Blacke Friers. Written by Iohn Marston.
London. Printed by Iohn Windet and are to be sold neere Ludgate._
1606. 4to.
STORY OF THE PLAY.
Syphax and Massinissa, princes of Libya, are rivals for the hand of
Sophonisba, daughter of Asdrubal, a powerful Carthaginian nobleman.
Massinissa's suit is accepted; whereupon Syphax enters into a league
with Scipio, who is advancing against Carthage. On Sophonisba's
marriage-night news is brought that the Carthaginian forces stationed
at Utica have been defeated by the united armies of Scipio and Syphax.
Massinissa is ordered by the senate to march without delay against the
enemy; he loyally obeys the command, and takes leave of his
virgin-wife. While he is serving Carthage in the field, the
Carthaginian senators at home proceed to plot against his life. They
determine to gain Syphax to their side by giving him Sophonisba to
wife; and Gisco, a physician and skilful empoisoner, is sent to the
Carthaginian camp to despatch Massinissa. Among the senators there is
an honest old man, Gelosso, who disguises himself, follows Gisco to
the camp, and hands Massinissa a letter containing a disclosure of the
plot. Massinissa has no sooner dismissed the empoisoner (whom he
scorns to punish) than Jugurth, Massinissa's nephew, enters, to
announce that Syphax has been seen riding in the direction of Cirta,
and that his horsemen are coming at a leisurely pace towards the camp
as if to fraternise with Massinissa's forces. By advice of Gelosso,
who lays aside his disguise, Massinissa scatters the horsemen by a
sudden onslaught, and hastens to make a league with Scipio. Meanwhile
Sophonisba has been sent by the Carthaginian senators to the palace of
Syphax at Cirta. She escapes by a subterranean passage that led from
the palace to a forest, but through the treachery of her attendant,
Zanthia, falls again into the hands of Syphax. In despair of
effecting his purpose by persuasion, Syphax applies for help to a
powerful enchantress, Erictho, who engages to force Sophonisba by
magic to his arms, on condition that he shall speak no word, and have
no lights burning, while he embraces her. On the appointed night
Syphax discovers to his horror that his embraces have been given to
Erictho. While he is cursing his fortunes, a messenger arrives to
announce that Scipio and Massinissa are advancing against Cirta. He
marches out to meet them; the troops on either side withdraw, while
Syphax and Massinissa engage in single combat; Massinissa vanquishes
his opponent, but spares his life on receiving assurance that
Sophonisba has not suffered outrage. Leaving his prisoner in Scipio's
hands, Massinissa hastens to Cirta. He enters the palace with his
beaver down, unrecognised by Sophonisba, who throws herself at his
feet, and implores him to save her from falling into the hands of the
Romans, or grant her instant death. Pledging his oath that he will
protect her, he doffs his helmet. The joyful reunion is presently
interrupted by the entrance of the Roman general, Lælius, who orders
Massinissa to deliver Sophonisba into Scipio's custody (Syphax having
represented to Scipio that Sophonisba would quickly induce Massinissa
to revolt from Rome). Lælius departs with Massinissa's assurance that
the command shall be obeyed. Massinissa is distracted; he must either
break the oath that he had pledged to Sophonisba, or he must be
faithless in the allegiance that he had sworn to Rome. Sophonisba's
heroism rescues him from his dilemma. She declares her willingness to
die; he infuses poison in a bowl of wine, and the dauntless woman
drinks, speaking words of comfort to her husband as the poison courses
through her veins. The lifeless body, laid on a bier, is presented to
Scipio by Massinissa.
_TO THE GENERAL READER._
Know that I have not laboured in this poem to tie myself to relate
anything as an historian, but to enlarge everything as a poet. To
transcribe authors, quote authorities, and translate Latin prose
orations into English blank verse, hath, in this subject, been the
least aim of my studies.[295] Then (equal reader) peruse me with no
prepared dislike; and, if ought shall displease thee, thank thyself;
if ought shall please thee, thank not me: for I confess in this it was
not my only end.
_ARGUMENTUM._
A grateful heart's just height; ingratitude,
And vow's base breach with worthy shame pursued;
A woman's constant love, as firm as fate;
A blameless counsellor well born for state;
The folly to enforce free love: these, know,
This subject with full light doth amply show.
[295] Marston is evidently glancing at Ben Jonson's _Sejanus_,
which had been published in the previous year (1605).]
_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._
MASSINISSA, }
SYPHAX, } _Kings of Libya, rivals for_ SOPHONISBA.
ASDRUBAL, _father to_ SOPHONISBA.
GELOSSO, _a senator of Carthage_.
BYTHEAS, _a senator of Carthage_.
HANNO MAGNUS, _Captain of Carthage_.
JUGURTH, MASSINISSA'S _nephew_.
SCIPIO, }
LÆLIUS, } _Generals of Rome_.
VANGUE, _an Æthiopian slave_.
CARTHALON, _a senator of Carthage_.
GISCO, _a surgeon of Carthage_.
NUNTIUS.
SOPHONISBA, _daughter to_ ASDRUBAL _of Carthage_.
ZANTHIA, _her maid_.
ERICTHO, _an enchantress_.
ARCATHIA, }
NYCEA, } _waiting-women to_ SOPHONISBA.
SCENE--CIRTA, CARTHAGE, &c.
PROLOGUS.
_Cornets sounding a march._
_Enter at one door the_ PROLOGUE, _two Pages with torches_,
ASDRUBAL _and_ JUGURTH, _two Pages with lights_, MASSINISSA
_leading_ SOPHONISBA, ZANTHIA _bearing_ SOPHONISBA'S _train_,
ARCATHIA _and_ NYCEA, HANNO _and_ BYTHEAS: _at the other door two
Pages with targets and javelins, two Pages with lights_, SYPHAX
_arm'd from top to toe, followed by_ VANGUE.
_These, thus enter'd, stand still, whilst the_ PROLOGUE,
_resting between both troops, speaks_.
The scene is Libya, and the subject thus:
Whilst Carthage stood the only awe of Rome,
As most imperial seat of Libya,
Govern'd by statesmen, each as great as kings
(For seventeen kings were Carthage feodars);
Whilst thus she flourish'd, whilst her Hannibal
Made Rome to tremble, and the walls yet pale:
Then in this Carthage Sophonisba lived,
The far-famed daughter of great Asdrubal:
For whom ('mongst others) potent Syphax sues, 10
And well-graced Massinissa rivals him,
Both princes of proud sceptres: but the lot
Of doubtful favour Massinissa graced,
At which Syphax grows black: for now the night
Yields loud resoundings of the nuptial pomp:
Apollo strikes his harp, Hymen his torch;
Whilst louring Juno, with ill-boding eye,
Sits envious at too forward Venus. Lo,
The instant night: and now ye worthier minds,
To whom we shall present a female glory 20
(The wonder of a constancy so fix'd,
That fate itself might well grow envious):
Be pleased to sit,[296] such as may merit oil,
And holy dew, still'd from diviner heat.
For rest thus knowing: what of this you hear,
The author lowly hopes, but must not fear:
For just worth never rests on popular frown,
To have done well is fair deeds' only crown.
_Nec se quæsiverit extra._
_Cornets sound a march._
_The_ PROLOGUE _leads_ MASSINISSA'S _troops over the stage,
and departs_: SYPHAX' _troops only stay_.
[296] Quy. "see't."
THE TRAGEDY
OF
SOPHONISBA.
ACT I.
SCENE I.
_The palace of Syphax at Cirta._
SYPHAX _and_ VANGUE.
_Sy._ Syphax, Syphax! why wast thou cursed a king?
What angry god made thee so great, so vile?
Contemn'd, disgracèd! think, wert thou a slave,
Though Sophonisba did reject thy love,
Thy low neglected head, unpointed at,
Thy shame unrumour'd, and thy suit unscoff'd,
Might yet rest quiet. Reputation,
Thou awe of fools and great men; thou that chok'st
Freest addictions, and makest mortals sweat
Blood and cold drops in fear to lose, or hope 10
To gain, thy never-certain seldom-worthy gracings;
Reputation,
Were't not for thee, Syphax could bear this scorn,
Not spouting up his gall among his blood
In black vexations: Massinissa might
Enjoy the sweets of his preferrèd graces
Without my dangerous envy or revenge;
Were't not for thy affliction, all might sleep
In sweet oblivion: but (O greatness' scourge!)
We cannot without envy keep high name, 20
Nor yet disgraced can have a quiet shame.
_Van._ Scipio----
_Sy._ Some light in depth of hell. Vangue, what hope?
_Van._ I have received assured intelligence,
That Scipio, Rome's sole hope, hath raised up men,
Drawn troops together for invasion----
_Sy._ Of this same Carthage?
_Van._ With this policy,
To force wild Hannibal from Italy----
_Sy._ And draw the war to Afric?
_Van._ Right.
_Sy._ And strike
This secure country with unthought of arms? 30
_Van._ My letters bear he is departed Rome,
Directly setting course and sailing up----
_Sy._ To Carthage, Carthage! O thou eternal youth,
Man of large fame, great and abounding glory,
Renownful Scipio, spread thy two-necked eagles,
Fill full thy sails with a revenging wind,
Strike through obedient Neptune, till thy prows[297]
Dash up our Libyan ooze,[298] and thy just arms
Shine with amazeful terror on these walls!
O now record thy father's[299] honour'd blood 40
Which Carthage drunk; thy uncle Publius'[300] blood
Which Carthage drunk; thirty thousand souls
Of choice Italians Carthage set on wing:
Remember Hannibal, yet Hannibal,
The consul-queller: O then enlarge thy heart,
Be thousand souls in one! let all the breath,
The spirit of thy name and nation, be mix'd strong
In thy great heart! O fall like thunder-shaft,
The wingèd vengeance of incensèd Jove,
Upon this Carthage! for Syphax here flies off 50
From all allegiance, from all love or service,
His (now free'd) sceptre once did yield this city.
Ye universal gods, light, heat, and air,
Prove all unblessing Syphax, if his hands
Once rear themselves for Carthage but to curse it!
It had been better they had changed their faith,
Denied their gods, than slighted Syphax' love;
So fearfully will I take vengeance.
I'll interleague with Scipio.--Vangue,
Dear Ethiopian negro, go wing a vessel, 60
And fly to Scipio: say his confederate,
Vow'd and confirm'd, is Syphax: bid him haste
To mix our palms and arms; will him make up,
Whilst we are in the strength of discontent,
Our unsuspected forces well in arms;
For Sophonisba, Carthage, Asdrubal,
Shall feel their weakness in preferring weakness,
And one less great than we. To our dear wishes,
Haste, gentle negro, that this heap may know
Me and their wrong. 70
_Van._ Wrong?
_Sy._ Ay, tho' 'twere not; yet know, while kings are strong,
What they'll but think, and not what is, is wrong.
I am disgraced in and by that which hath
No reason,--love, and woman; my revenge
Shall therefore bear no argument of right;
Passion is reason when it speaks from might.
I tell thee, man, nor kings nor gods exempt,
But they grow pale if once they find contempt.
Haste! 80
[_Exeunt._
[297] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. (_i.e._ 8vo of 1633) "powers."
[298] Ed. 1. reads "ouse," which becomes "house" in ed. 2.
[299] Cn. Scipio, who fell fighting in Spain, B.C. 212. See
Livy, xxv. 36.
[300] See Livy, xxv. 34.
SCENE II.
SOPHONISBA'S _bedchamber_.
_Enter_ ARCATHIA; NYCEA, _with tapers_; SOPHONISBA,
_in her night attire, followed by_ ZANTHIA.
_So._ Watch at the doors: and till we be reposed
Let no one enter. Zanthia, undo me.
_Zan._ With this motto under your girdle:
_You had been undone if you had not been undone_.
Humblest service!
_So._ I wonder, Zanthia, why the custom is,
To use such ceremony, such strict shape,
About us women: forsooth the bride must steal
Before her lord to bed; and then delays,
Long expectations, all against known wishes. 10
I hate these figures in locution,
These about phases forced by ceremony;
We must still seem to fly what we most seek,
And hide ourselves from what we fain would find.
Let those that think and speak and do just acts,
Know form can give no virtue to their acts,
Nor detract vice.
_Zan._ Alas, fair princess! those that are strongly form'd
And truly shap'd, may naked walk; but we,
We things call'd women, only made for show 20
And pleasure, created to bear children
And play at shuttlecock; we imperfect mixtures,
Without respective ceremony used,
And ever compliment, alas! what are we?
Take from us formal custom and the courtesies
Which civil fashion hath still used to us,
We fall to all contempt. O women, how much,
How much are you beholding to ceremony!
_So._ You are familiar. Zanthia, my shoe.
_Zan._ 'Tis wonder, madam, you tread not awry. 30
_So._ Your reason, Zanthia.
_Zan._ You go very high.
_So._ Hark! music! music!
_The Ladies lay the Princess in a fair bed, and close
the curtains, whilst_ MASSINISSA _enters_.
_Ny._ The bridegroom!
_Arca._ The bridegroom!
_So._ Haste, good Zanthia: help! keep yet the doors!
_Zan._ Fair fall you, lady; so, admit, admit.
_Enter four Boys, anticly attired, with bows and quivers,
dancing to the cornets a fantastic measure_; MASSINISSA _in his
nightgown, led by_ ASDRUBAL _and_ HANNO, _followed by_ BYTHEAS
_and_ JUGURTH. _The Boys draw the curtains, discovering_
SOPHONISBA, _to whom_ MASSINISSA _speaks_.
_Mass._ You powers of joy, gods of a happy bed,
Show you are pleased; sister and wife of Jove,
High-fronted Juno, and thou Carthage patron,
Smooth-chinn'd Apollo, both give modest heat
And temperate graces!
[MASSINISSA _draws a white ribbon forth_[301] _of the
bed, as from the waist of_ SOPHONISBA.
Lo, I unloose thy waist!
She that is just in love is god-like chaste. 40
Io to Hymen!
_Chorus, with cornets, organ and voices. Io to Hymen!_
_So._ A modest silence, though't be thought
A virgin's beauty and her highest honour;
Though bashful feignings nicely wrought,
Grace her that virtue takes not in, but on her;
What I dare think I boldly speak:
After my word my well-bold action rusheth.
In open flame then passion break!
Where virtue prompts, thought, word, act never blusheth.
Revenging gods, whose marble hands 50
Crush faithless men with a confounding terror,
Give me no mercy if these bands
I covet not with an unfeignèd fervour;
Which zealous vow when ought can force me t'lame,[302]
Load with that plague Atlas would groan at, shame.
Io to Hymen!
_Chorus. Io to Hymen!_
_Asdru._ Live both high parents of so happy birth,
Your stems may touch the skies and shadow earth;
Most great in fame, more great in virtue shining.
Prosper, O powers! a just, a strong divining. 60
Io to Hymen!
_Chorus. Io to Hymen!_
_Enter_ CARTHALON, _his sword drawn, his body wounded,
his shield struck full of darts_; MASSINISSA _being
ready for bed_.
_Car._ To bold hearts Fortune! be not you amazed,
Carthage! O Carthage! be not you amazed.
_Mass._ Jove made us not to fear; resolve, speak out;
The highest misery of man is doubt.
Speak, Carthalon!
_Car._ The stooping sun, like to some weaker prince,
Let his shades spread to an unnatural hugeness,
When we, the camp that lay at Utica,
From Carthage distant but five easy leagues, 70
Descried from off the watch three hundred sail,
Upon whose tops the Roman eagles stretch'd
Their large spread wings, which fann'd the evening air,
To us cold breath; for well we might discern
Rome swam to Carthage.
_Asd._ Hannibal, our rancour[303] is come back; thy slight,
Thy stratagem, to lead war unto Rome,
To quite ourselves, hath now taught desperate Rome
T'assail our Carthage: now the war is here.
_Mass._ He is nor blest, nor honest, that can fear. 80
_Han._ Ay, but to cast the worst of our distress----
_Mass._ To doubt of what shall be, is wretchedness:
Desire, fear, and hope, receive no bond
By whom, we in ourselves are never but beyond.
On!
_Car._ Th' alarum beats necessity of fight;
Th' unsober evening draws out reeling forces,
Soldiers, half men, who to their colours troop
With fury, not with valour: whilst our ships
Unrigg'd, unus'd, fitter for fire than water, 90
We save in our barr'd haven from surprise.
By this our army marcheth toward the shore,
Undisciplin'd young men, most bold to do,
If they knew how, or what; when we descry
A mighty dust, beat up with horses' hooves:
Straight Roman ensigns glitter; Scipio----
_Asd._ Scipio!
_Car._ Scipio, advancèd like the god of blood,
Leads up grim war, that father of foul wounds,
Whose sinewy feet are steep'd in gore, whose hideous voice 100
Makes turrets tremble and whole cities shake;
Before whose brows flight and disorder hurry;
With whom march burnings, murder, wrong, waste, rapes;
Behind whom a sad train is seen, woe, fears,
Tortures, lean need, famine, and helpless tears.
Now make we equal stand in mutual view:
We judg'd the Romans eighteen thousand foot,
Five thousand horse; we almost doubled them
In number, not in virtue;[304] yet in heat
Of youth and wine, jolly, and full of blood, 110
We gave the sign of battle: shouts are raised
That shook the heavens; pell-mell our armies join;
Horse, targets, pikes, all against each opposed,[305]
They give fierce shock, arms thunder'd as they clos'd:
Men cover earth, which straight are coverèd
With men and earth; yet doubtful stood the fight,
More fair to Carthage, when lo, as oft we see,
In mines of gold, when labouring slaves delve out
The richest ore, being in sudden hope
With some unlook'd-for vein to fill their buckets, 120
And send huge treasure up, a sudden damp
Stifles them all, their hands yet stuff'd with gold,--
So fell our fortunes; for look, as we stood proud,
Like hopeful victors, thinking to return
With spoils worth triumph, wrathful Syphax lands
With full ten thousand strong Numidian horse,
And joins to Scipio. Then lo, we[306] all were damp'd;
We fall[307] in clusters, and our wearied troops
Quit all. Slaughter ran through us straight; we fly,
Romans pursue, but Scipio sounds retreat, 130
As fearing trains and night: we make amain
For Carthage most, and some for Utica,
All for our lives.--New force, fresh arms with speed!
_Han._[308] You have said truth of all; no more: I bleed.
O[309] wretched fortune!
[_Tearing his hair._
_Mass._ Old lord, spare thy hairs:
What, dost thou think baldness will cure thy grief?
What decree the Senate?
_Enter_ GELOSSO _with commissions in his hand, sealed_.
_Gelo._ Ask old Gelosso, who returns from them,
Inform'd with fullest charge. Strong Asdrubal,
Great Massinissa, Carthage general, 140
So speaks the Senate: counsel for this war
In Hanno Magnus, Bytheas, Carthalon,
And us Gelosso, rests. Embrace this charge,
You never yet dishonour'd Asdrubal,
High Massinissa! by your vows to Carthage,
By th' god of great men,--glory,--fight for Carthage!
Ten thousand strong Massulians, ready troop'd,
Expect their king; double that number waits
The leading of loved Asdrubal: beat loud
Our Afric drums! and, whilst our o'er-toil'd foe 150
Snores on his unlacked casque, all faint, though proud,
Through his successful fight, strike fresh alarms.
Gods are not if they grace not bold, just arms.
_Mass._ Carthage, thou straight shalt know
Thy favours have been done unto a king.
[_Exit with_ ASDRUBAL _and the Page_.
_So._ My lords, 'tis most unusual such sad haps
Of sudden horror should intrude 'mong beds
Of soft and private loves; but strange events
Excuse strange forms. O you that know our blood,
Revenge if I do feign. I here protest, 160
Though my lord leave his wife a very maid,
Even this night, instead of my soft arms
Clasping his well-strung limbs with glossful steel,
What's safe to Carthage shall be sweet to me.
I must not, nor am I once ignorant
My choice of love hath given this sudden danger
To yet strong Carthage: 'twas I lost the fight;
My choice vex'd Syphax, enraged Syphax struck
Arms' fate;[310] yet Sophonisba not repents:
O we were gods if that we knew events. 170
But let my[311] lord leave Carthage, quit his virtue,
I will not love him; yet must honour him,
As still good subjects must bad princes. Lords,
From the most ill-graced hymeneal bed
That ever Juno frown'd at, I entreat
That you'll collect from our loose-formèd speech
This firm resolve: that no low appetite
Of my sex' weakness can or shall o'ercome
Due grateful[312] service unto you or virtue.
Witness, ye gods, I never until now 180
Repined at my creation: now I wish
I were no woman, that my arms might speak
My heart to Carthage. But in vain: my tongue
Swears I am woman still, I talk too[313] long.
_Cornets, a march. Enter two Pages with targets and javelins; two
Pages with torches._ MASSINISSA _armed cap-à-pie_; ASDRUBAL
_armed_.
_Mass._ Ye Carthage lords, know Massinissa knows
Not only terms of honour, but his actions;
Nor must I now enlarge how much my cause
Hath danger'd Carthage, but how I may show
Myself most prest[314] to satisfaction.
The loathsome stain of kings' ingratitude 190
From me O much be far! And since this torrent,
War's rage, admits no anchor--since the billow
Is risen so high we may not hull,[315] but yield
This ample state to stroke of speedy swords;
What you with sober haste have well decreed,
We'll put to sudden arms; no, not this night,
These dainties, these firstfruits of nuptials,
That well might give excuse for feeble lingerings,
Shall hinder Massinissa. Appetite,
Kisses, loves, dalliance, and what softer joys 200
The Venus of the pleasing'st ease can minister,
I quit you all. Virtue perforce is vice;
But he that may, yet holds, is manly wise.
Lo then, ye lords of Carthage, to your trust
I leave all Massinissa's treasure: by the oath
Of right good men stand to my fortune just:
Most hard it is for great hearts to mistrust.
_Car._ We vow by all high powers.
_Mass._ No, do not swear;
I was not born so small to doubt or fear.
_So._ Worthy, my lord----
_Mass._ Peace, my ears are steel; 210
I must not hear thy much-enticing voice.
_So._ My Massinissa, Sophonisba speaks
Worthy thy wife: go with as high a hand
As worth can rear. I will not stay my lord.
Fight for our country; vent thy youthful heat
In field, not beds: the fruit of honour, Fame,
Be rather gotten than the oft disgrace
Of hapless parents, children. Go, best man,
And make me proud to be a soldier's wife,
That values his renown above faint pleasures: 220
Think every honour that doth grace thy sword
Trebles my love. By thee I have no lust
But of thy glory. Best lights of heaven with thee!
Like wonder, stand or fall; so, though thou die,
My fortunes may be wretched, but not I.
_Mass._ Wondrous creature! even fit for gods, not men:
Nature made all the rest of thy fair sex
As weak essays, to make thee a pattern
Of what can be in woman! Long farewell!
He's sure unconquer'd in whom thou dost dwell, 230
Carthage Palladium.[316] See that glorious lamp--
Whose lifeful[317] presence giveth sudden flight
To fancies, fogs, fears, sleep, and slothful night--
Spreads day upon the world: march swift amain;--
Fame got with loss of breath is god-like gain!
[_The Ladies draw the curtains about_ SOPHONISBA;
_the rest accompany_ MASSINISSA _forth: the
cornets and organs playing loud full music
for the Act_.