[411] Stockings drawn above the knee.

[412] Squares of coloured silk or velvet inserted in a garment.

[413] "To judge of the liberality of these notions of dress, we

must advert to the days of Gresham and the consternation which a

Phenomenon habited like a merchant here described would have

excited among the flat round caps, and cloth stockings, upon

Change, when those 'original arguments or tokens of a citizen's

vocation were in fashion, not more for thrift and usefulness than

for distinction and grace.' The blank uniformity to which all

professional distinctions in apparel have been long hastening is

one instance of the Decay of Symbols among us, which, whether it

has contributed or not to make us a more intellectual, has

certainly made us a less imaginative people. Shakespeare knew the

force of signs:--'a malignant and a turban'd Turk.' 'This

meal-cap miller,' says the author of _God's Revenge against

Murder_, to express his indignation at the atrocious outrage

committed by the miller Pierot upon the person of the fair

Marieta."--_Charles Lamb._

[414] See note, p. 331.

[415] Mourning robes.

[416] Pet. ("A pretty _peat_."--_Taming of the Shrew_, i. 1.)

[417] _Takes up commodities_,--gets goods on credit.

[418] Wanton.

[419] Old eds. give this line to Jacomo and read:--"She shall

not, fathers, by our brother souls."

[420] Stutters.

[421] The old editions read:--"Precise in each _but Tassell_,

feare it not."

ACT II.

SCENE I.

LAVERDURE's _lodging_.

_One knocks:_ LAVERDURE _draws the curtains, sitting on his bed,

apparelling himself; his trunk of apparel standing by him._

_Lav._ Ho! Bidet, lackey.

_Enter_ BIDET, _with water and a towel._

_Bid._ Signior.

_Lav._ See who knocks. Look, you boy; peruse their

habits; return perfect notice. La la, ly ro!

[_Exit_ BIDET, _and returns presently._

_Bid._ Quadratus.

_Lav._ Quadratus, _mon Dieu, ma vie!_ I lay not at my

lodging to-night. I'll not see him now, on my soul:

he's in his old perpetuana[422] suit. I am not within.

_Bid._ He is fair, gallant, rich, neat as a bridegroom,

fresh as a new-minted sixpence; with him Lampatho

Doria, Simplicius Faber. 11

_Lav._ And in good clothes?

_Bid._ Accoutred worthy a presence.

_Lav._ _Uds so:_ my gold-wrought waistcoat and nightcap!

Open my trunk: lay my richest suit on the top,

my velvet slippers, cloth-of-gold gamashes:[423] where are

my cloth-of-silver hose? lay them----

_Bid._ At pawn, sir.

_Lav._ No, sir; I do not bid you lay them at pawn, sir.

_Bid._ No, sir, you need not, for they are there already.

_Lav._ _Mor du, garzone!_ Set my richest gloves, garters,

hats, just in the way of their eyes. So let them in; observe

me with all duteous respect: let them in. 23

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO DORIA, _and_

SIMPLICIUS FABER.

_Qua._ Phoebus, Phoebe, sun, moon, and seven stars,

make thee the dilling[424] of fortune, my sweet Laverdure,

my rich French blood. Ha, ye dear rogue, hast any

pudding[425] tobacco?

_Lam._ Good morrow, signor.

_Sim._ Monsieur Laverdure, do you see that gentleman?

He goes but in black satin, as you see, but, by Helicon!

he hath a cloth of tissue wit. He breaks a jest; ha,

he'll rail against the court till the gallants--O God! he

is very nectar; if you but sip of his love, you were immortal.

I must needs make you known to him; I'll

induce your love with dear regard. Signior Lampatho,

here is a French gentleman, Monsieur Laverdure, a

traveller, a beloved of Heaven, courts your acquaintance.

_Lam._ Sir, I protest[426] I not only take distinct notice of

your dear rarities of exterior presence, but also I protest

I am most vehemently enamour'd, and very passionately

dote on your inward adornments and liabilities of spirit!

I protest I shall be proud to do you most obsequious

vassalage. 43

_Qua._ [_Aside._] Is not this rare, now? Now, by Gorgon's head,

I gape, and am struck stiff in wonderment

At sight of these strange beasts. Yon[427] chamlet[428] youth,

Simplicius Faber, that hermaphrodite,

_Party_[429] _per pale_, that bastard mongrel soul,

Is nought but admiration and applause

Of yon[430] Lampatho Doria, a fusty cask, 50

Devote to mouldy customs of hoary eld;

Doth he but speak, "O tones of heaven itself!"

Doth he once write, "O Jesu admirable!"

Cries out Simplicius. Then Lampatho spits,

And says, "faith 'tis good." But, O, to mark yon thing

Sweat to unite acquaintance to his friend,

Labour his praises, and endear his worth

With titles all as formally trick'd forth

As the cap of a dedicatory epistle.

Then, sir, to view Lampatho: he protests, 60

Protests and vows such sudden heat of love,

That O 'twere warmth enough of mirth to dry

The stintless tears[431] of old Heraclitus,--

Make Niobe to laugh!

_Lam._ I protest I shall be proud to give you proof I

hold a most religious affiance with your love.

_Lav._ Nay, gentle signior.

_Lam._ Let me not live else. I protest I will strain my

utmost sinews in strengthening your precious estimate;

I protest I will do all rights in all good offices that friendship

can touch, or amplest virtue deserve. 71

_Qua._ I protest, believe him not; I'll beg thee, Laverdure,

For a conceal'd idiot,[432] if thou credit him;

He's a hyena,[433] and with civet scent

Of perfumed words, draws to make a prey

For laughter of thy credit. O this hot crackling love,

That blazeth on an instant, flames me out

On the least puff of kindness, with "protest, protest!"

Catzo, I dread these hot protests, that press,

Come on so fast. No, no! away, away! 80

You are a common friend, or will betray.

Let me clip amity that's got with suit;

I hate this whorish love that's prostitute.

_Lav._ Horn on my tailor! could he not bring home

My satin taffeta or tissue suit,

But I must needs be cloth'd in woollen thus?

Bidet, what says he for my silver hose,

And primrose satin doublet? God's my life!

Gives he no more observance to my body?

_Lam._ O, in that last suit, gentle Laverdure, 90

Visit my lodging. By Apollo's front,

Do but inquire my name. O straight they'll say,

Lampatho suits himself in such a hose.

_Sim._ Mark that, Quadratus.

_Lam._ Consorts himself with such a doublet.

_Sim._ Good, good, good! O Jesu! admirable.

_Lav._ La la, ly ro, sir!

_Lam._ O Pallas! Quadratus, hark! hark! A most

complete phantasma, a most ridiculous humour; prithee

shoot him through and through with a jest; make him

lie by the lee, thou basilisco[434] of wit. 101

_Sim._ O Jesu! admirably well spoken; angelical tongue!

_Qua._ Gnathonical coxcomb!

_Lam._ Nay, prithee, fut, fear not, he's no edge-tool;

you may jest with him.

_Sim._ No edge-tool. Oh!

_Qua._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Sim._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Qua._ By blessedness, I thought so.

_Lam._ Nay, when?[435] when? 110

_Qua._ Why, thou pole-head![436] thou Janus! thou poltroon!

thou protest! thou earwig that wrigglest into

men's brains! thou dirty cur, that bemirest with thy

fawning! thou----

_Lam._ Obscure me! or----

_Qua._ Signior Laverdure, by the heart of an honest man,

this Jebusite--this, confusion to him! this worse than I

dare to name--abuseth thee most incomprehensibly. Is

this your protest of most obsequious vassalage? Protest

to strain your utmost sum, your most---- 120

_Lam._ So Phoebus warm my brain, I'll rhyme thee dead.

Look for the satire: if all the sour juice

Of a tart brain can souse thy estimate,

I'll pickle thee.

_Qua._ Ha! he mount Chirall[437] on the wings of fame!

A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse![438]

Look thee, I speak play-scraps. Bidet, I'll down,

Sing, sing, or stay, we'll quaff, or anything.

Rivo,[439] Saint Mark, let's talk as loose as air;

Unwind youth's colours, display ourselves, 130

So that yon envy-starvèd cur may yelp

And spend his chaps at our fantasticness.

_Sim._ O Lord, Quadratus!

_Qua._ Away, idolater! Why, you Don Kynsader![440]

Thou canker-eaten rusty cur! thou snaffle

To freer spirits!

Think'st thou, a libertine, an ungyved breast,

Scorns not the shackles of thy envious clogs?

You will traduce us unto public scorn?

_Lam._ By this hand I will. 140

_Qua._ A foutra for thy hand, thy heart, thy brain!

Thy hate, thy malice, envy, grinning spite!

Shall a free-born, that holds antipathy----

_Lam._ Antipathy!

_Qua._ Ay, antipathy, a native hate

Unto the curse of man, bare-pated servitude,

Quake at the frowns of a ragg'd satirist--

A scrubbing railer, whose coarse, harden'd fortune,

Grating his hide, galling his starvèd ribs,

Sits howling at desert's more battle fate[441]--

Who out of dungeon of his black despairs, 150

Scowls at the fortune of the fairer merit.

_Lav._ Tut, via! Let all run glib and square.

_Qua._ Uds fut! He coggs and cheats your simpler thoughts,

My spleen's a-fire in the heat of hate;

I bear these gnats that hum about our ears,

And blister[442] our credits in obscured shades.

_Lav._ Pewte bougra! La, la, la! Tit! Shaugh!

Shall I forbear to caper, sing, or vault?

To wear fresh clothes, or wear perfumèd sweets?

To trick my face, or glory in my fate? 160

T' abandon natural propensitudes?

My fancy's humour?--for a stiff jointed,

Tatter'd, nasty, taber-fac'd----Puh, la, la, ly ro!

_Qua._ Now, by thy lady's cheek, I honour thee,

My rich free blood. O my dear libertine!

I could suck the juice, the sirrup of thy lip,

For thy most generous thought!--my Elysium!

_Lam._ O, sir, you are so square, you scorn reproof.

_Qua._ No, sir; should discreet Mastigophoros,

Or the dear spirit acute Canaidus 170

(That Aretine, that most of me beloved,

Who in the rich esteem I prize his soul,

I term myself); should these once menace me,

Or curb my humours with well-govern'd check,

I should with most industrious regard,

Observe, abstain, and curb my skipping lightness;

But when an arrogant, odd, impudent,

A blushless forehead, only out of sense

Of his own wants, bawls in malignant questing

At others' means of waving gallantry,-- 180

Pight foutra!

_Lam._ I rail at none, you well-squared signior.

_Qua._ I cannot tell; 'tis now grown fashion,

What's out of railing's out of fashion.

A man can scarce put on a tuck'd-up cap,

A button'd frizado suit, scarce eat good meat,

Anchovies, caviare, but he's satired

And term'd fantastical by the muddy spawn

Of slimy newts, when, troth, fantasticness--

That which the natural sophisters term 190

_Phantasia incomplexa_--is a function

Even of the bright immortal part of man.

It is the common pass, the sacred door,

Unto the privy chamber of the soul;

That barr'd, nought passeth past the baser court

Of outward sense; by it th' inamorate

Most lively thinks he sees the absent beauties

Of his loved mistress;

By it we shape a new creation

Of things as yet unborn; by it we feed 200

Our ravenous memory, our intention feast:

'Slid he that's not fantastical's a beast.

_Lam._ Most fantastical protection of fantasticness.

_Lav._ Faith, 'tis good.

_Qua._ So't be fantastical 'tis wit's lifeblood.

_Lav._ Come, signior, my legs are girt.

_Qua._ Fantastically?

_Lav._ After a special humour, a new cut.

_Qua._ Why, then, 'tis rare, 'tis excellent. Uds fut!

And I were to be hanged I would be choked

Fantastically. He can scarce be saved 210

That's not fantastical: I stand firm to it.

_Lav._ Nay, then, sweet sir, give reason. Come on: when?[443]

_Qua._ 'Tis hell to run in common base of men.

_Lav._ Has not run thyself out of breath, bully?[444]

_Qua._ And I have not jaded thy ears more than I have

tired my tongue, I could run discourse, put him out of

his full pace.

I could pour speech till thou criedst ho! but troth,

I dread a glut; and I confess much love

To freer gentry, whose pert agile spirits 220

Is too much frost-bit, numb'd with ill-strain'd snibs,[445]

Hath tenter-reach'd[446] my speech. By Brutus' blood,

He is a turf that will be slave to man;

But he's a beast that dreads his mistress' fan.

_Lav._ Come, all mirth and solace, capers, healths, and whiffs;[447]

To-morrow are my nuptials celebrate.

All friends, all friends!

_Lam._ I protest----

_Qua._ Nay, leave protests; pluck out your snarling

fangs. When thou hast means, be fantastical and

sociable. Go to: here's my hand; and you want forty

shillings, I am your Mecænas, though not _atavis edite

regibus_. 233

_Lam._ Why, content, and I protest----

_Qua._ I'll no protest!

_Lam._ Well, and I do not leave these fopperies, do

not lend me forty shillings, and there's my hand: I

embrace you--love you--nay, adore thee; for by the

juice of wormwood, thou hast a bitter brain!

_Qua._ You, Simplicius, wolt leave that staring fellow,

Admiration, and adoration of thy acquaintance,

wilt? A scorn! out; 'tis odious. Too eager a defence

argues a strong opposition; and too vehement a

praise draws a suspicion of others' worthy disparagement. 245

Set[448] tapers to bright day, it ill befits;

Good wines can vent themselves, and not good wits?

_Sim._ Good truth, I love you; and with the grace of

Heaven, I'll be very civil and----

_Qua._ Fantastical. 250

_Sim._ I'll be something; I have a conceal'd humour

in me; and 'twere broach'd 'twould spurt i'faith.

_Qua._ Come then, Saint Mark, let's be as light as air,

As fresh and jocund as the breast of May.

I prithee, good French knight, good plump-cheek'd chub,

Run some French passage. Come, let's see thy vein--

Dances, scenes, and songs, royal entertain.

_Lav._ Petit lacque, page, page, Bidet, sing!

Give it the French jerk--quick, spart, lightly--ha!

Ha, here's a turn unto my Celia![449] 260

_Qua._ Stand stiff! ho, stand! take footing firm! stand sure!

For if thou fall before thy mistress

Thy manhood's damn'd. Stand firm! Ho! good! so,

so!

_The Dance and Song._

_Lav._ Come, now, via, aloune,[450] to Celia.

_Qua._ Stay, take an old rhyme first; though dry and lean,

'Twill serve to close the stomach of the scene.

_Lav._ This is thy humour to berhyme us still;

Never so slightly pleased, but out they fly.

_Qua._ They are mine own, no gleanèd poetry;

My fashion's known. Out, rhyme; take't as you list: 270

A fico[451] for the sour-brow'd Zoilist!

Music, tobacco, sack, and sleep,

The tide of sorrow backward keep.

If thou art sad at others' fate,

_Rivo_,[452] drink deep, give care the mate.

On us the end of time is come,

Fond fear of that we cannot shun;

Whilst quickest sense doth freshly last,

Clip time about, hug pleasure fast.

The sisters ravel out our twine, 280

He that knows little 's most divine.

Error deludes; who'll beat this hence,--

Naught's known but by exterior sense?

Let glory blazon others' deed,

My blood than breath craves better meed.

Let twattling fame cheat others' rest,

I am no dish for rumour's feast.

Let honour others' hope abuse,

I'll nothing have, so nought will lose.

I'll strive to be nor great nor small, 290

To live nor die; fate helmeth[453] all.

When I can breathe no longer, then

Heaven take all: there put Amen.

How is't? how is't?

_Lav._ Faith, so, so; _tellement, quellement;_

As 't please opinion to current it.

_Qua._ Why, then, via! let's walk.

_Lav._ I must give notice to an odd pedant, as we pass,

of my nuptials: I use him, for he is obscure, and shall

marry us in private. I have many enemies, but secresy

is the best evasion from envy. 300

_Qua._ Holds it to-morrow?

_Lav._ Ay firm, absolute.

_Lam._ I'll say amen if the priest be mute.

_Qua._ Epithalamiums will I sing, my chuck.

Go on--spend freely--out on dross, 'tis muck.

[_Exeunt._

[422] A sort of coarse cloth.--"By this heaven I wonder at

nothing more than our gentlemen ushers, that will suffer a piece

of serge or _perpetuana_ to come into the presence."--_Cynthia's

Revels_, iii. 2.

[423] "A kind of loose drawers or stockings worn outside the legs

over the other clothing."--_Halliwell._

[424] "Mignon.--A minion, favourite wanton, _dilling_,

darling."--_Cotgrave._

[425] _Pudding_ tobacco is frequently mentioned by the

dramatists. Cf. _Cynthia's Revels_, ii. 1:--"Never kneels but to

pledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of _pudding-tobacco_."

Probably it was tobacco compressed into a solid shape.

[426] From numerous passages it appears that it was regarded as a

piece of affectation to use the word _protest_. See Dyce's

_Shakesp. Glossary_.

[427] Ed. 1. "You."

[428] Chamlet (or camlet) was a mixed stuff of wool and silk.

[429] "'_Party per pale_' is a term in heraldry denoting that the

field or ground on which the figures that make up a coat of arms

are represented, is divided into two equal parts by a

perpendicular line; and Quadratus means that the external

appearances of the two sexes are, in Simplicius, divided with

equal exactness."--_Dilke._

[430] Old eds. "you."

[431] I beseech the reader to make "tears" equivalent to a

dissyllable and not pronounce "Heracl[=i]tus" as "Heracl[)i]tus."

[432] Formerly it was in the sovereign's power to grant to any

petitioner the care of the person and estates of a subject who

had been legally proved to be an idiot.

[433] Marston has made a slip here: he has confused the hyena

with the panther. "The panther or pardal," says Topsel, "smelleth

most sweetly, which savour he hath received from a divine gift,

and doth not only feel the benefit of it himself, but also bewray

it unto other beasts; for when he feeleth himself to be hungry

and stand in need of meat, then doth he get up into some rough

tree, and by his savour or sweet smell, draweth unto him an

innumerable company of wild goats, harts, roes, and hinds, and

such other beasts, and so upon a sudden leapeth down upon them

when he espieth his convenient time. And Solinus saith that the

sweetness of his savour worketh the same effect upon them in the

open fields, for they are so mightily delighted with his spotted

skin and fragrant smell that they always come running unto him

from all parts, striving who shall come nearest to him to be

satisfied with the sight; but when once they look upon his fierce

and grim face they all are terrified and turn away" (_History of

Four-footed Beasts_, ed. 1658, p. 451).

[434] The name of a piece of ordnance.

[435] An exclamation of impatience.

[436] Tadpole.--"Cavesot. A _pole-head_ or bull-head; the little

black vermine whereof toads and frogs do come."--_Cotgrave._

[437] Dilke reads "cheval," and Mr. J. R. Lowell (in _My Study

Windows_) approves of the emendation. I suspect that "Chirall" is

a corruption of the name of some horse famous in one of the old

romances.--_Curtal_ (= docked horse) would be preferable to

_cheval_.

[438] We have had in _Parasitaster_ (p. 212) a travesty of this

line of _Richard III_. So in the _Scourge of Villainy_:--

"A man! a man! a kingdom for a man!"

Again in _Eastward Ho_:--

"A boat! a boat! a full hundred marks for a boat!"

[439] A bacchanalian exclamation of uncertain origin.

[440] _Kinsader_ was the pseudonym under which Marston published

his _Scourge of Villainy_.

[441] If the text is not corrupt, "more battle fate" must mean

"more prosperous fortune." _Battle_ and _batful_, applied to

land, had the meaning--_fertile_, _fruitful_.

[442] Old eds. "and sting-blister."--I suspect that Marston first

wrote "stinge," and afterwards corrected it into

"blister,"--the printer keeping both words.

[443] See note 2, p. 348.

[444] A familiar form of address.

[445] Snubs.

[446] Ed. 1. "tender-reach'd."

[447] A particular manner of smoking tobacco. In the Character of

the Persons prefixed to _Every Man out of his Humour_ it is said

of Cavaliero Shift--"His chief exercises are _taking the whiff_,

squiring a cockatrice, &c." We learn from the _Gull's Horn-book_

(Dekker's _Works_, ed. Grosart, ii. 242) that it was part of a

gallant's education to be skilled in _taking the whiff_.

[448] "With taper light

To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess."--_King John_, iv. 2.

[449] Old eds. "Lucea."

[450] A corruption of Fr. _allons_. Cf. Nashe's _Have with you to

Saffron_--"_Alloune, alloune_, let us march!" (_Works_, ed.

Grosart, iii. 163.)

[451] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[452] A bacchanalian exclamation.

[453] Ed. 2. "helpeth."

SCENE II.

_A School-room._

_Enter a schoolmaster, draws the curtains behind, with_ BATTUS,

NOUS, SLIP, NATHANIEL, _and_ HOLOFERNES PIPPO, _schoolboys,

sitting, with books in their hands_.

_All._ _Salve, magister!_

_Ped._[454] _Salvete pueri, estote salvi, vos salvere exopto vobis

salutem, Batte, mi fili, mi Batte!_

_Bat._ _Quid vis?_

_Ped._ Stand forth: repeat your lesson without book.

_Bat._ A noun is the name of a thing that may be

seen, felt, heard, or understood.

_Ped._ Good boy: on, on.

_Bat._ Of nouns some be substantives and some be

substantives. 10

_Ped._ Adjectives.

_Bat._ Adjectives. A noun substantive either is proper

to the thing that it betokeneth--

_Ped._ Well, to numbers.

_Bat._ In nouns be two numbers, the singular and the

plural: the singular number speaketh of one, as _lapis_, a

stone; the plural speaketh of more than one, as _lapides_,

stones.

_Ped._ Good child. Now thou art past _lapides_, stones,

proceed to the cases. Nous, say you next, Nous.

Where's your lesson, Nous? 21

_Nous._ I am in a verb, forsooth.

_Ped._ Say on, forsooth: say, say.

_Nous._ A verb is a part of speech declined with mood

and tense, and betokeneth doing, as _amo_, I love.

_Ped._ How many kind of verbs are there?

_Nous._ Two; personal and impersonal.

_Ped._ Of verbs personals, how many kinds?

_Nous._ Five; active, passive, neuter, deponent, and

common. A verb active endeth in _o_, and betokeneth

to do, as _amo_, I love; and by putting to _r_, it may be a

passive, as _amor_, I am loved. 32

_Ped._ Very good, child. Now learn to know the deponent

and common. Say you, Slip.

_Slip._ _Cedant_[455] _arma togæ, concedat laurea linguæ._

_Ped._ What part of speech is _lingua_: _inflecte, inflecte_.

_Slip._ _Singulariter, nominativo hæc lingua._

_Ped._ Why is _lingua_ the feminine gender?

_Slip._ Forsooth because it is the feminine gender. 39

_Ped._ Ha, thou ass! thou dolt! _idem per idem_, mark

it: _lingua_ is declined with _hæc_, the feminine, because it

is a household stuff, particularly belonging and most

commonly resident under the roof of women's mouths.

Come on, you Nathaniel, say you, say you next; not too

fast; say tretably:[456] say.

_Nath._ _Mascula dicuntur monosyllaba nomina quædam._

_Ped._ Faster! faster!

_Nath._ _Ut sal, sol, ren et splen: car, ser, vir, vas, vadis, as,

mas, Bes, cres, pres et pes, glis, glirens [sic] habens genetivo,

Mos, flos, ros et tros, muns [sic], dens, mons, pons--_ 50

_Ped._ _Rup, tup, snup, slup, bor, hor, cor, mor._ Holla!

holla! holla! you Holofernes Pippo, put him down.

Wipe your nose: fie, on your sleeve! where's your

muckender[457] your grandmother gave you? Well, say on;

say on.

_Hol._ Pree,[458] master, what word's this?

_Ped._ _Ass! ass!_

_Hol._ _As in presenti perfectum format in, in, in_--

_Ped._ In what, sir?

_Hol._ _Perfectum format._ In what, sir? 60

_Ped._ In what, sir?--_in avi_.

_Hol._ In what, sir?--_in avi.

Ut no, nas, navi, vocito, vocitas, voci, voci, voci_--

_Ped._ What's next?

_Hol._ _Voci_--what's next?

_Ped._ Why, thou ungracious child! thou simple animal!

thou barnacle! Nous,--snare him; take him up: and

you were my father, you should up. 68

_Hol._ Indeed I am not your father. O Lord! now,

for God sake, let me go out. My mother told a thing:

I shall bewray[459] all else. Hark, you, master: my grandmother

entreats you to come to dinner to-morrow

morning.

_Ped._ I say, untruss--take him up. Nous, despatch!

what, not perfect in an _as in presenti_?

_Hol._ In truth I'll be as perfect an _as in presenti_ as any

of this company, with the grace of God, law: this once--this

once--and I do so any more----

_Ped._ I say, hold him up! 79

_Hol._ Ha, let me say my prayers first. You know not

what you ha' done now; all the syrup of my brain is

run into my buttocks, and ye spill the juice of my wit

well. Ha, sweet! ha, sweet! honey, Barbary sugar,[460]

sweet master.

_Ped._ Sans tricks, trifles, delays, demurrers, procrastinations,

or retardations, mount him, mount him.

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO, LAVERDURE, _and_

SIMPLICIUS.

_Qua._ Be merciful, my gentle signior.

_Lav._ We'll sue his pardon out.

_Ped._ He is reprieved: and now, Apollo bless your

brains; facundius, and elaborate elegance make your

presence gracious in the eyes of your mistress. 91

_Lav._ You must along with us; lend private ear.

_Sim._ What is your name?

_Hol._ Holofernes Pippo.

_Sim._ Who gave you that name? Nay, let me alone

for sposing [_sic_] of a scholar.

_Hol._ My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism.

_Sim._ Truly, gallants, I am enamoured on thee, boy;

wilt thou serve me?

_Hol._ Yes, and please my grandmother, when I come

to years of discretion. 101

_Ped._ And you have a propensitude to him, he shall

be for you. I was solicited to grant him leave to play

the lady in comedies presented by children; but I knew

his voice was too small,[461] and his stature too low. Sing,

sing a treble, Holofernes: sing.

_The Song._

A very small sweet voice, I'll assure you.

_Qua._ 'Tis smally sweet indeed.

_Sim._ A very pretty child. Hold up thy head. There;

buy thee some plums. 110

_Qua._ Nay, they must play; you go along with us.

_Ped._ _Ludendi venia est petita et concessa._

_All._ _Gratias._

_Sim._ Pippo's my page. How like you him? Ha!

has he not a good face, ha?

_Lav._ Exceedingly amiable. Come away;

I long to see my love, my Celia.

_Sim._ Carry my rapier; hold up so; good child: stay,

gallants. Umph! a sweet face.

[_Exeunt_[462] _all but_ LAMPATHO _and_ QUADRATUS.

_Lam._ I relish not this mirth; my spirit is untwist;

My heart is ravell'd out in discontents. 121

I am deep-thoughtful, and I shoot my soul

Through all creation of omnipotence.

_Qua._ What, art melancholy, Lamp? I'll feed thy humour:

I'll give thee reason strait to hang thyself.

Mark't, mark't: in Heaven's handiwork there's naught--

Believe it.

_Lam._ In Heaven's handiwork there's naught,

None more vile, accursed, reprobate to bliss,

Than man; and[463] 'mong men a scholar most. 130

Things only fleshly sensitive, an ox or horse,

They live and eat, and sleep, and drink, and die,

And are not touched with recollections

Of things o'er-past, or stagger'd infant doubts

Of things succeeding; but leave the manly beasts,

And give but pence apiece to have a sight

Of beastly man now----

_Sim._ [_from within_]. What so, Lampatho! Good

truth, I will not pay your ordinary if you come not.

_Lam._ Dost thou hear that voice? I'll make a parrot now 140

As good a man as he in fourteen nights.

I never heard him vent a syllable

Of his own creating since I knew the use

Of eyes and ears. Well, he's perfect blest,

Because a perfect beast. I'll gage my heart

He knows no difference essential

'Twixt my dog and him. The whoreson sot is blest,

Is rich in ignorance, makes fair usance on't,

And every day augments his barbarism.

So love me calmness, I do envy him for't. 150

I was a scholar: seven useful springs

Did I deflower in quotations

Of cross'd opinions 'bout the soul of man.

The more I learnt the more I learnt to doubt:

Knowledge and wit, faith's foes, turn faith about.

_Sim._ [_from within_]. Nay, come, good signior. I stay

all the gentlemen here. I would fain give my pretty page

a pudding-pie.

_Lam._ Honest epicure.--Nay, mark, list. Delight,

Delight, my spaniel slept, whilst I baus'd leaves, 160

Toss'd o'er the dunces, pored on the old print

Of titled words, and still my spaniel slept.

Whilst I wasted lamp-oil, bated my flesh,

Shrunk up my veins; and still my spaniel slept.

And still I held converse with Zabarell,[464]

Aquinas, Scotus, and the musty saw

Of antic Donate; still my spaniel slept

Still went on went I; first _an sit anima_,

Then, and it were mortal. O hold, hold! at that

They're at brain-buffets, fell by the ears amain 170

Pell-mell together; still my spaniel slept.

Then whether 'twere corporeal, local, fix'd,

Extraduce; but whether 't had free will

Or no, ho philosophers

Stood banding factions all so strongly propp'd,

I stagger'd, knew not which was firmer part;

But thought, quoted,[465] read, observ'd, and pried,

Stuff'd noting-books; and still my spaniel slept.

At length he waked and yawn'd and by yon sky,

For aught I know he knew as much as I. 180

_Sim._ [_from within_]. Delicate good Lampatho, come

away. I assure you I'll give but twopence more.

_Lam._ How 'twas created, how the soul exists:

One talks of motes, the soul was made of motes;

Another fire, t'other light, a third

A spark of star-like nature;

Hippo water, Anaximenes air,

Aristoxenus music; Critias, I know not what.

A company of odd phrenetici!

Did eat my youth; and when I crept abroad, 190

Finding my numbness in this nimble age,

I fell a-railing; but now, soft and slow,

I know I know naught but I naught do know.

What shall I do--what plot, what course pursue?

_Qua._ Why, turn a temporist, row with the tide,

Pursue the cut, the fashion of the age.

Well, here's my scholar's course: first get a school,

And then a ten-pound cure; keep both. Then buy

(Stay, marry, ay, marry) then a farm, or so:

Serve God and mammon--to the devil go. 200

Affect some sect--ay, 'tis the sect is it,

So thou canst seem, 'tis held the precious wit.

And O, if thou canst get some higher seat,

Where thou mayest sell your holy portion

(Which charitable Providence ordained,

In sacred bounty, for a blessèd use),

Alien the glebe, entail it to thy loins,

Entomb it in thy grave,

Past resurrection to his native use!

Now, if there be a hell, and such swine saved,

Heaven take all--that's all my hopes have craved. 210

_Enter_ PIPPO.

_Pip._ My Simplicias master--

_Lam._ Your master Simplicius.

_Pip._ Has come to you to sent--

_Lam._ Has sent to me to come.

_Pip._ Ha! ha! has bought me a fine dagger, and a hat

and a feather! I can say _As in presenti_ now!

_Company of Boys within._ Quadratus, Quadratus, away! away!

_Quad._[466] We come, sweet gallants; and grumbling hate lie still,

And turn fantastic! He that climbs a hill 220

Must wheel about; the ladder to account

Is sly dissemblance: he that means to mount

Must lie all level in the prospective

Of eager-sighted greatness. Thou wouldst thrive:

The Venice state is young, loose, and unknit,

Can relish naught but luscious vanities.

Go, fit his tooth. O glavering flattery!

How potent art thou! Front, look brisk and sleek.--

That such base dirt as you should dare to reek

In princes' nostrils!--Well, my scene is long. 230

_All within._ Quadratus!

_Qua._ I come, hot bloods. Those that their state would swell,

Must bear a counter-face. The devil and hell

Confound them all! That's all my prayers exact:

So ends our chat;--sound music for the act!

[_Exeunt._

[454] _i.e._, _Pedant_.--See p. 373.

[Transcriber's Note: Act III, Scene ii, line 100]

[455] Cicero, _Off._ i. 22, 77.

[456] Chaucer has _tretable_ in the sense of _tractable_,

_well-disposed_; but that sense does not suit the present

passage.

[457] Handkerchief.

[458] Shortened form of "prithee."

[459] See note, vol. i. p. 114.

[460] Dilke refers to Fletcher's _Beggars' Bush_, iv. 3:--

"_Fourth Merchant._ Or if you want fine sugar, 'tis but sending.

_Goswin._ No, I can send to _Barbary_."

[461] "She has brown hair, and speaks _small_ like a

woman."--_Merry Wives_, i. 1.

[462] Not marked in old eds.

[463] Omitted in ed. 2.

[464] Giacomo Zabarella (1533-1589), the Aristotelian

commentator, professor of logic and philosophy at Padua.

[465] Made notes.

[466] Old eds. give this speech to Lampatho.

ACT III.

SCENE I.

_Francisco's house._

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, _half-dressed, in his black doublet and round

cap, the rest rich_; JACOMO _bearing his hat and feather_; ANDREA

_his doublet and band_; RANDOLFO _his cloak and staff_. _They

clothe_ FRANCISCO _whilst_ BIDET _creeps in and observes them.

Much of this done whilst the Act is playing._

_Fra._ For God's sake, remember to take special marks

of me, or you will ne'er be able to know me.

_And._ Why, man?

_Fra._ Why, good faith, I scarce know myself; already

me thinks I should remember to forget myself; now I

am so shining brave. Indeed Francisco was always a

sweet youth, for I am a perfumer; but thus brave! I am

an alien to it. Would you make me like the drown'd

Albano? Must I bear't mainly up? Must I be he?

_Ran._ What else, man? O, what else? 10

_Jaco._ I warrant you, give him but fair rich clothes,

He can be ta'en, reputed anything.

Apparel's grown a god, and goes[467] more neat;

Makes men of rags, which straight he bears aloft,

Like patch'd-up scarecrows to affright the rout

Of the idolatrous vulgar that worship images,

Stand awed and bare-scalp'd at the gloss of silks,

Which, like the glorious A-jax[468] of Lincoln's-Inn

(Survey'd with wonder by me when I lay

Factor in London), laps up naught but filth 20

And excrements, that bear the shape of men,

Whose inside every daw[469] would peck and tear,

But that vain scarecrow clothes entreats forbear.

_Fra._ You would have me take upon me, Albano,

A valiant gallant Venetian burgomasco.

Well my beard, my feather, short sword, and my oath,

Shall do't, fear not. What! I know a number,

By the sole warrant of a lappy beard,

A rain-beat plume, and a good chop-filling oath,

With an odd French shrug, and "by the Lord," or so, 30

Ha' leapt into sweet captain with such ease

As you would--Fear't not. I'll gage my heart I'll do't.

How sits my hat? Ha! Jack, doth my feather wag?

_Jaco._ Methinks now, in the common sense of fashion,

Thou shouldst grow proud, and like a fore-horse view,

None but beforehand gallants; as for sides,

Study a faint salute, give a strange eye;

And those that rank in equal file with thee,

But as to those in rearward, O be blind!

The world wants eyes--it[470] cannot see behind. 40

_Fra._ Where is the strumpet? Where's the hot-vein'd French?

Lives not Albano? Hath Celia so forgot

Albano's love, that she must forthwith wed

A runabout, a skipping Frenchman?

_Jaco._ Now you must grow in heat, and stut.

_Fra._ An odd phantasma--a beggar--a sir--a who,

who, who--What You Will--a straggling go-go-go-gunds--f-f-f-f-fut----

_And._ Passing like him--passing like him. O 'twill

strike all dead! 50

_Ran._ I am ravished! 'Twill be peerless exquisite

Let him go out instantly!

_Jaco._ O, not till twilight; meantime I'll prop up

The tottering rumour of Albano's scape,

And safe arrival; it begins to spread.

If this plot live, Frenchman, thy hopes are dead.

[_Exeunt._

_Bid._ And if it live, strike off this little head.

[_Exit._

[467] Ed. 1. "does."

[468] _A jakes._ The joke (originated by Sir John Harrington) is

very common. Concerning the jakes of Lincoln's Inn, see the

droll, though not very delicate, story in Gayton's _Festivous

Notes on Don Quixote_, 1654, p. 74.

[469] Old eds. "day" (which Dilke retains!).

[470] Ed. 2. "and."

SCENE II.

_A Public Place._

_Enter_ ALBANO _with_ SLIP, _his Page_.

_Alb._ Can it be? Is't possible? Is't within the

bounds of faith? O villainy!

_Slip._ The clapper of rumour strikes on both sides,

ringing out the French knight is in firm possession of

my mistress, your wife.

_Alb._ Is't possible I should be dead so soon

In her affects? How long is't since our shipwrack?

_Slip._ Faith, I have little arithmetic in me, yet I

remember the storm made me cast up perfectly the

whole sum of all I had receiv'd; three days before I

was liquor'd soundly; my guts were rinced 'fore the

heavens. I look as pale ever since, as if I had ta'en the

diet[471] this spring. 13

_Alb._ But how long is't since our shipwrack?

_Slip._ Marry, since we were hung by the heels on the

batch of Sicily, to make a jail-delivery of the sea in our

maws, 'tis just three months. Shall I speak like a

poet?--_thrice hath the horned moon----_

_Alb._ Talk not of horns. O Celia! How oft,

When thou hast laid thy cheek upon my breast, 20

And with lascivious petulancy sued

For hymeneal dalliance, marriage-rites;--

O then, how oft, with passionate protests

And zealous vows, hast thou obliged thy love,

In dateless bands, unto Albano's breast!

Then, did I but mention second marriage,

With what a bitter hate would she inveigh

'Gainst retail'd wedlocks! "O!" would she lisp,

"If you should die,"--then would she slide a tear,

And with a wanton languishment intwist 30

Her hands,--"O God, and you should die! Marry?

Could I love life, my dear Albano dead?

Should any prince possess his widow's bed?"

And now, see, see, I am but rumour'd drown'd.

_Slip._ She'll make you prince;--your worship must be crown'd.

O master, you know the woman is the weaker creature!

She must have a prop. The maid is the brittle metal;

Her head is quickly crack'd. The wife is queasy-stomach'd,

She must be fed with novelties. But, then, what's your widow?

_Custom is a second nature_;--I say no more, but think you

the rest. 40

_Alb._ If love be holy; if that mystery

Of co-united hearts be sacrament;

If the unbounded goodness have infused

A sacred ardour, if a mutual love,

Into our species, of those amorous joys,

Those sweets of life, those comforts even in death,

Spring from a cause above our reason's reach;--

If that clear flame deduce his heat from heaven;--

'Tis like his cause,[472] eternal, always One,

As is th' instiller of divinest love, 50

Unchanged by time, immortal maugre death!

But O, 'tis grown a figment, love a jest,

A comic poesy! The soul of man is rotten,

Even to the core;--no sound affection.

Our love is hollow-vaulted--stands on props

Of circumstance, profit, or ambitious hopes!

The other tissue gown, or chain of pearl,

Makes my coy minx to nuzzel[473] 'twixt the breasts

Of her lull'd husband; t'other carkanet

Deflowers that lady's bed. One hundred more 60

Marries that loathèd blowze;--one ten-pound odds,

In promised jointure, makes the hard-palm'd sire

Enforce his daughter's tender lips to start

At the sharp touch of some loath'd stubbèd beard;

The first pure time, the golden age, is fled.

Heaven knows I lie,--'tis now the age of gold,--

For it all marreth, and even virtue's sold!

_Slip._ Master, will you trust me, and I'll----

_Alb._ Yes, boy, I'll trust thee. Babes and fools I'll trust;

But servants' faith, wives' love, or female's lust,-- 70

A usurer and the devil sooner. Now, were I dead,

Methinks I see a huff-cap swaggering sir

Pawning my plate, my jewels mortgage; nay,

Selling outright[474] the purchase of my brows,

Whilst my poor fatherless, lean, totter'd[475] son--

My gentry's relics, my house's only prop--

Is saw'd asunder, lies forlorn, all bleak

Unto the griefs of sharp necessities,

Whilst his father-in-law, his father-in-devil, or

d-d-d-d-devil-f-f-f-father,

Or who, who, who, who,--What You Will!-- 80

When is the marriage morn?

_Slip._ Even next rising sun.

_Alb._ Good, good, good! Go to my brother Andrea:[476]

Tell him I'll lurk; stay, tell him I'll lurk: stay.--

Now is Albano's marriage-bed new hung

With fresh rich curtains! Now are my valence up,

Emboss'd with orient pearl, my grandsire's gift!

Now are the lawn sheets fumed with violets,[477]

To fresh the pall'd lascivious appetite!

Now work the cooks, the pastry sweats with slaves;

The march-panes[478] glitter: now, now, the musicians 90

Hover with nimble sticks o'er squeaking crowds,[479]

Tickling the dried guts of a mewing cat.

The tailors, starchers, sempsters, butchers, poulterers,

mercers,--all, all, all,--now, now, now,--none think

o' me,--the f-f-f-French is _te f-f-f-fine man, de p-p-p-pock

man, de----_

_Slip._ Peace, peace! stand conceal'd. Yonder, by all

descriptions, is he would be husband of my mistress;--your

wife! hah, meat, hah!

_Alb._ Uds so, so, so soul! that's my velvet cloak! 100

_Slip._ O peace! observe him: ha!

_Enter_ LAVERDURE _and_ BIDET, _talking_; QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO,

SIMPLICIUS, PEDANT, _and_ HOLOFERNES PIPPO.

_Bid._ 'Tis most true, sir. I heard all; I saw all; I

tell all, and I hope you believe all. The sweet Francisco

Soranza, the perfumer, is by your rival Jacomo, and your

two brothers that must be, when you have married your

wife that shall be--

_Ped._ With the grace of Heaven. 107

_Bid._ Disguised so like the drowned Albano, to cross

your suit, that by my little honesty 'twas great consolation

to me to observe them. "Passion of joy, of hope!

O excellent!" cried Andrea. "Passingly!" cried Randolfo.

"Unparallel'd!" lisps Jacomo. "Good, good,

good!" says Andrea. "Now stut," says Jacomo. "Now

stut," says Randolfo; whilst the ravish'd perfumer had

like to have water'd the seams of his breeches for extreme

pride of their applause.

_Lav._ Sest,[480] I'll to Celia, and, maugre the nose of her

friends, wed her, bed her; my first son shall be a captain,

and his name shall be what it please his godfathers;

the second, if he have a face bad enough, a

lawyer; the third, a merchant; and the fourth, if he be

maim'd, dull-brain'd, or hard-shaped, a scholar; for that's

your fashion. 123

_Qua._ Get them; get them, man, first. Now by the

wantonness of the night, and I were a wench, I would

not ha' thee, wert thou an heir, nay (which is more) a fool.

_Lav._ Why, I can rise high: a straight leg, a plump

thigh, a full vein, a round cheek; and, when it pleaseth

the fertility of my chin to be delivered of a beard, 'twill

not wrong my kissing, for my lips are rebels, and stand

out. 131

_Qua._ Ho! but there's an old fusty proverb, these

great talkers are never good doers.

_Lam._ Why, what a babel arrogance is this!

Men will put by the very stock of fate;

They'll thwart the destiny of marriage,

Strive to disturb the sway of Providence:

They'll do it!

_Qua._ Come, you'll be snarling now.

_Lam._ As if we had free-will in supernatural

Effects, and that our love or hate 140

Depended not on causes 'bove the reach

Of human stature.

_Qua._ I think I shall not lend you forty shillings now.

_Lam._ Dirt upon dirt, fear is beneath my shoe.

Dreadless of racks, strappadoes, or the sword--

Maugre informer and sly intelligence,--

I'll stand as confident as Hercules,

And, with a frightless resolution,

Rip up and lance our time's impieties.

_Sim._ Uds so, peace. 150

_Lam._ Open a bounteous ear, for I'll be free:

Ample as Heaven, give my speech more room;

Let me unbrace my breasts, strip up my sleeves,

Stand like an executioner to vice,

To strike his head off with the keener edge

Of my sharp spirit.

_Lav._ Room and good licence: come on! when, when?

_Lam._ Now is my fury mounted. Fix your eyes;

Intend your senses; bend your list'ning up;

For I'll make greatness quake; I'll taw[481] the hide 160

Of thick-skinn'd Hugeness.

_Lav._ 'Tis most gracious; we'll observe thee calmly.

_Qua._ Hang on thy tongue's end. Come on! prithee do.

_Lam._ I'll see you hanged first I thank you, sir, I'll none.

This is the strain that chokes the theatres;

That makes them crack with full-stuff'd audience;

This is your humour only in request,

Forsooth to rail; this brings your ears to bed;

This people gape for; for this some do stare.

This some would hear, to crack the author's neck; 170

This admiration and applause pursues;

Who cannot rail? my humour's changed, 'tis clear:

Pardon, I'll none; I prize my joints more dear.

_Bid._ Master, master, I ha' descried the Perfumer in

Albano's disguise. Look you! look you! Rare sport!

rare sport! 176

_Alb._ I can contain my impatience no longer. You,

Monsieur Cavalier, Saint Dennis,--you, capricious sir,

Signior Caranto French Brawl,[482]--you, that must marry

Celia Galanto,--is Albano drown'd now? Go wander,

avaunt, knight-errant! Celia shall be no cuck-quean,[483]--my

heir no beggar,--my plate no pawn,--my land no

mortgage,--my wealth no food for thy luxuries,--my

house no harbour for thy comrades,--my bed no booty

for thy lusts! My anything shall be thy nothing. Go

hence! pack, pack! avaunt! caper, caper! aloun, aloun!

pass by, pass by! cloak your nose! away! vanish! wander!

depart! slink by! away! 188

_Lav._ Hark you, Perfumer. Tell Jacomo, Randolfo,

and Andrea,[484] 'twill not do;--look you, say no more, but--'twill

not do.

_Alb._ What Perfumer? what Jacomo?

_Qua._ Nay, assure thee, honest Perfumer, good Francisco,

we know all, man. Go home to thy civet box;

look to the profit, commodity, or emolument of thy

musk-cat's tail: go, clap on your round cap--my "what

do you lack," sir,--for i'faith, good rogue, all's descried!

_Alb._ What Perfumer? what musk-cat? what Francisco?

What do you lack? Is't not enough that you kiss'd my

wife? 200

_Lav._ Enough.

_Alb._ Ay, enough! and may be, I fear me, too much;

but you must flout me,--deride me,--scoff me,--keep out,--touch

not my porch;--as for my wife!----

_Lav._ Stir to the door: dare to disturb the match,

And by the----

_Alb._ My sword! menace Albano 'fore his own doors!

_Lav._ No, not Albano, but Francisco: thus, Perfumer,

I'll make you stink if you stir a----For the rest: well,

_via, via!_

[_Exeunt all but_ ALBANO, SLIP, SIMPLICIUS,

_and_ HOLOFERNES.

_Alb._ Jesu, Jesu! what intends this? ha! 211

_Sim._ O God, sir! you lie as open to my understanding

as a courtezan. I know you as well----

_Alb._ Somebody knows me yet: praise Heaven, somebody

knows me yet!

_Sim._ Why, look you, sir: I ha' paid for[485] my knowing

of men and women too, in my days: I know you are

Francisco Soranza, the perfumer; ay, maugre Signor

Satin, ay----

_Alb._ Do not tempt my patience. Go to; do not----

_Sim._ I know you dwell in Saint Mark's Lane, at the

sign of the Musk Cat, as well---- 222

_Alb._ Fool, or mad, or drunk, no more!

_Sim._ I know where you were dressed, where you

were----

_Alb._ Nay, then, take all!--take all! take all!----

[_He bastinadoes_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Sim._ And I tell not my father; if I make you not

lose your office of gutter-master-ship; and you be

scavenger next year, well! Come, Holofernes; come,

good Holofernes; come, servant. 230

[_Exeunt_ SIMPLICIUS _and_ HOLOFERNES.

_Enter_ JACOMO.

_Alb._ Francisco Soranza, and perfumer, and musk-cat,

and gutter-master, hay, hay, hay!--go, go, go!--f-f-f-fut!--I'll

to the Duke; and I'll so ti-ti-ti-tickle them!

_Jaco._ Precious! what means he to go out so soon,

Before the dusk of twilight might deceive

The doubtful priers? What, holla!

_Alb._ Whop! what devil now?

_Jaco._ I'll feign I know him not.--

What business 'fore those doors?

_Alb._ What's that to thee?

_Jaco._ You come to wrong my friend Sir Laverdure. 240

Confess, or----

_Alb._ My sword, boy!--s-s-s-s-soul, my sword!

_Jaco._ O, my dear rogue, thou art a rare dissembler!

_Alb._ See, see!

_Enter_ ANDREA[486] _and_ RANDOLFO.

_Jaco._ Francisco, did I not help to clothe thee even

now? I would ha' sworn thee, Albano, my good sweet

slave.

[_Exit_ JACOMO.

_Alb._ See, see! Jesu, Jesu! Impostors! Coney-catchers!

Sancta Maria! 249

_Ran._ Look you. He walks; he feigns most excellent.

_And._[487] Accost him first as if you were ignorant

Of the deceit.

_Ran._ O, dear Albano! now thrice happy eyes,

To view the hopeless presence of my brother!

_Alb._ Most lovèd kinsman, praise to Heaven, yet

You know Albano. But for yonder slaves--well----

_And._[487] Success could not come on more gracious.

_Alb._ Had not you come, dear brother Andrea,[488]

I think not one would know me. Ulysses' dog

Had quicker sense than my dull countrymen; 260

Why, none had known me.

_Ran._ Doubt you of that? Would I might die,

Had I not known the guile, I would ha' sworn

Thou hadst been Albano, my nimble, coz'ning knave.

_Alb._ Whip, whip! Heaven preserve all! Saint

Mark, Saint Mark!

Brother Andrea,[488] be frantic, prithee be;

Say I am a perfumer--Francisco. Hay, hay!

Is't not some feast-day? You are all rank drunk!

Rats, ra-ra-ra-rats, knights of the be-be-be-bell! be-be-bell!

_And._[487] Go, go! proceed: thou dost it rare. Farewell.

[_Exeunt_ ANDREA[488] _and_ RANDOLFO.

_Alb._ Farewell? Ha! Is't even so? Boy, who am I?

_Slip._ My Lord Albano!

_Alb._ By this breast you lie. 272

The Samian[489] faith is true, true! I was drown'd;

And now my soul is skipp'd into a perfumer,

A gutter-master.

_Slip._ Believe me, sir----

_Alb._ No, no!

I'll believe nothing! no!

The disadvantage of all honest hearts

Is quick credulity. Perfect state-policy

Can cross-bite[490] even sense. The world's turn'd juggler!

Casts mists before our eyes. Hey-pass re-pass![491] 280

I'll credit nothing.

_Slip._ Good sir!

_Alb._ Hence, ass!

Doth not opinion stamp the current pass

Of each man's value, virtue, quality?

Had I engross'd the choice commodities

Of Heaven's traffic, yet reputed vile,

I am a rascal! O, dear unbelief!

How wealthy dost thou make thy owner's wit!

Thou train of knowledge! what a privilege

Thou givest to thy possessor! anchor'st him

From floating with the tide of vulgar faith; 290

From being damn'd with multitude's dear unbelief!

I am a perfumer: ay, think'st thou, my blood,

My brothers know not right Albano yet?

Away! 'tis faithless![492] If Albano's name

Were liable to sense, that I could taste, or touch,

Or see, or feel it, it might 'tice belief;

But since 'tis voice, and air--Come to the Muskcat, boy;

Francisco, that's my name; 'tis right: ay, ay,

What do you lack? what is't you lack? right; that's my cry.

[_Exeunt._

[471] _i.e._, as if I had been treated for the pox.

[472] Ed. 2. "cause's."

[473] Cf. Prologue to _Second Part of Antonio and Mellida_:--

"And _nuzzled 'twixt the breasts_ of happiness."

[474] Ed. 2. "our right."

[475] _i.e._, tatter'd.

[476] Old eds. "Adrian."

[477] Spenser, in his _Epithalamion_, alludes to the practice of

sprinkling the bridal-bed with violets:--

"Now day is doen and night is nighing fast,

Now bring the Bryde into the brydall bowres:

The night is come, now soone her disaray,

And in her bed her lay;

Lay her in lilies and in _violets_,

And silken courteins over her display."

[478] A composition of almonds, sugar, &c.

[479] Fiddles.

[480] Probably a corruption of Fr. _cessez_. Cf. Shakespeare's

perplexing _sessa_.--We have the expression again on p. 402.

[481] Dress leather with alum.

[482] The name of a dance.

[483] She-cuckold.

[484] Old eds. "Adrian."

[485] Ed. 2. "for knowing men."

[486] Old eds. "Adrian."

[487] Old eds. "Adri."

[488] Old eds. "Adrian."

[489] Pythagoras was of Samos.

[490] Cheat.--Marlowe, i. 89.

[491] "Hey-pass re-pass"--a juggler's term.

[492] Ed. 1. "faites."

SCENE III.

_A Tavern._

_Enter_ SLIP _and_ NOOSE; TRIP, _with the truncheon of a staff

torch, and_ DOIT _with a pantofle_;[493] BIDET, HOLOFERNES

_following. The cornets sound._

_Bid._ Proclaim our titles!

_Do._ _Bosphoros Cormelydon Honorificacuminos Bidet!_

_Hol._ I think your majesty's a Welshman; you have a

horrible long name.

_Bid._ Death or silence! Proceed!

_Do._ _Honorificacuminos Bidet, Emperor of Cracks,_[494]

_Prince of Pages, Marquess of Mumchance,_[495] and sole Regent

over a Bale_[496] _of False Dice_: to all his under-ministers

health, crowns, sack, tobacco, and stockings uncrack'd

above the shoe. 10

_Bid._ Ourself will give them their charge. Now let

me stroke my beard, and I had it, and speak wisely, if

I knew how. Most unconscionable, honest little, or little

honest, good subjects, inform our person of your several

qualities, and of the prejudice that is foisted upon you,

that ourself may preview, prevent, and preoccupy the

pestilent[497] dangers incident to all your cases.

_Do._ Here is a petition exhibited of the particular grievances

of each sort of pages. 19

_Bid._ We will vouchsafe, in this our public session, to

peruse them. Pleaseth your excellent wagship to be informed

that the division of pages is tripartite (tripartite),

or threefold: of pages, some be court-pages, others ordinary

gallant pages, and the third apple-squires,[498] basket-bearers,

or pages of the placket: with the last we will

proceed first. Stand forth, page of the placket,[499] what is

your mistress?

_Slip._ A kind of puritan.[500]

_Bid._ How live you? 29

_Slip._ Miserably, complaining to your crack-ship:

though we have light mistresses, we are made the children

and servants of darkness. What profane use we are put

to, all these gallants more feelingly know than we can

lively express; it is to be commiserated, and by your royal

insight only to be prevented, that a male monkey and the

diminutive of a man should be _synonima_, and no sense.

Though we are the dross of your subjects, yet being a

kind of page, let us find your celsitude kind and respective

of our time-fortunes and birth's abuse: and so,

in the name of our whole tribe of empty basket-bearers, I

kiss your little hands. 41

_Bid._ Your case is dangerous, and almost desperate.

Stand forth, ordinary gallant's page: what is the nature

of your master?

_No._ He eats well and right slovenly; and when the

dice favour him, goes in good clothes, and scours his

pink colour silk stockings; when he hath any money, he

bears his crowns; when he hath none, I carry his purse.

He cheats well, swears better, but swaggers in a wanton's

chamber admirably; he loves his boy and the rump of

a cramm'd capon; and this summer hath a passing thrifty

humour to bottle ale; as contemptuous as Lucifer, as

arrogant as ignorance can make him, as libidinous as

Priapus. He keeps me as his adamant, to draw metal

after to his lodging: I curl his perriwig, paint his

cheeks, perfume his breath; I am his froterer[501] or rubber

in a hot-house, the prop of his lies, the bearer of his false

dice; and yet for all this, like the Persian louse, that

eats biting, and biting eats, so I say sighing,[502] and sighing

say, my end is to paste up a _si quis_.[503] My master's fortunes

are forced to cashier me, and so six to one I fall to be a

pippin-squire. _Hic finis Priami!_--this is the end of

pickpockets. 63

_Bid._ Stand forth, court-page: thou lookest pale and wan.

_Trip._ Most ridiculous Emperor.

_Bid._ O, say no more. I know thy miseries;--what

betwixt thy lady, her gentlewoman, and thy master's late

gaming, thou mayest look pale. I know thy miseries, and

I condole thy calamities. Thou art born well, bred ill,

but diest worst of all: thy blood most commonly gentle,

thy youth ordinarily idle, and thy age too often miserable.

When thy first suit is fresh, thy cheeks clear of court-soils,

and thy lord fall'n out with his lady, so long may

be he'll chuck thee under the chin, call thee good pretty

ape, and give thee a scrap from his own trencher; but

after, he never beholds thee but when thou squirest him

with a torch to a wanton's sheets, or lights his tobacco-pipe;

never useth thee but as his pander; never regardeth

thee but as an idle burr that stick'st upon the nap of his

fortune; and so, naked thou camest into the world, and

naked thou must return.--Whom serve you? 81

_Hol._ A fool!

_Bid._ Thou art my happiest subject: the service of a

fool is the only blessed'st slavery that ever put on a

chain and a blue coat; they know not what nor for what

they give, but so they give 'tis good, so it be good they

give; fortunes are ordain'd for fools, as fools are for

fortune, to play withal, not to use: hath he taken an oath

of allegiance--is he of our brotherhood yet?

_Hol._ Not yet, right _venerable Honorificac-cac-cac-cacu-minos

Bidet_! but as little an infant as I am I will, and

with the grace of wit I will deserve it. 92

_Bid._ You must perform a valorous, virtuous, and religious

exploit first, in desert of your order.

_Hol._ What is't?

_Bid._ Cozen thy master; he is a fool, and was created

for men of wit, such as thyself, to make use of.

_Hol._ Such as myself? Nay, faith, for wit, I think,

for my age, or so--But on, sir. 99

_Bid._ That thou mayst the easier purge him of superfluous

blood, I will describe thy master's constitution.

He loves and is beloved of himself, and one more, his

dog. There is a company of unbraced, untruss'd rutters[504]

in the town, that crinkle in the hams, swearing their

flesh is their only living, and when they have any crowns,

cry "God a mercy, Mol!" and shrugging, "let the cock-holds[505]

pay for't;" intimating that their maintenance flows

from the wantonness of merchants' wives, when in troth

the plain troth is, the plain and the stand, or the plain

stand and deliver, delivers them all their living. These

comrades have persuaded thy master that there's no way

to redeem his peach-colour satin suit from pawn but by

the love of a citizen's wife; he believes it: they flout him,

he feeds them; and now 'tis our honest and religious

meditation that he feed us, Holofernes Puppi. 115

_Hol._ Pippo, and shall please you.

_Bid._ Pippo, 'tis our will and pleasure thou suit thyself

like a merchant's wife; leave the managing of the

sequence unto our prudence.

_Hol._ Or unto our Prudence; truly she is a very witty

wench, and hath a stammel[506] petticoat with three guards[507]

for the nonce; but for your merchant's wife, alas! I am

too little, speak too small, go too gingerly: by my troth

I fear I shall look too fair. 124

_Bid._ Our majesty dismounteth, and we put off our

greatness; and now, my little knaves, I am plain Crack.

As I am Bosphoros Carmelydon Honorificacuminos

Bidet, I am imperious, honour sparkles in mine eyes;

but as I am Crack, I will convey,[508] crossbite,[509] and cheat

upon Simplicius. I will feed, satiate, and fill your

paunches; replenish, stuff, or furnish your purses: we

will laugh when others weep--sing when others sigh--feed

when others starve--and be drunk when others are

sober. This is my charge at the loose.[510] As you love

our brotherhood, avoid true speech, square dice, small

liquor, and above all, those two ungentlemanlike protestations

of indeed and verily. And so, 137

Gentle Apollo, touch thy nimble string;

Our scene is done; yet 'fore we cease, we sing.

[_The Song, and exeunt._

[493] Slipper.--It was part of a page's duty to carry the

pantofles of his master or mistress. On entering service he was

said to be "sworn to the pantofle."

[494] _Crack_ was a common term for a pert boy.

[495] A game at cards.

[496] Pair of dice.--It would seem that to cog a die was a

favourite form of roguery among pages. Nashe, in an address to

"the dapper messieurs pages of the court," prefixed to _The

Unfortunate Traveller_ (1594), says:--"Thirdly, it shall be

lawful for any whatsoever to play with false dice in a corner."

[497] So ed. 2.--ed. 1. "pustulent."

[498] Attendant on a lady of pleasure.

[499] Petticoat.

[500] Cant term for a whore.

[501] Cf. _Every Man out of His Humour_, iv. 4:--"Let a man sweat

once a week in a hot-house, and be well rubb'd and _froted_ with

a good plump juicy wench and sweet linen, he shall ne'er ha' the

pox."

[502] Old eds. "sithing and sithing."

[503] _i.e._, an advertisement for a situation: see Nares'

Glossary. The middle aisle of Paul's was the favourite place for

the display of such advertisements.

[504] Properly a German trooper (_reiter_ or _reuter_); but the

term was also applied to a roistering gallant.

[505] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "cuckolds."

[506] Red.

[507] Facings, trimmings.

[508] Pilfer.

[509] Cozen.

[510] "At the loose"--at my dismissal of you. _Loose_ was a term

in archery for the discharging of an arrow.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

_Albano's house._

_Enter_ CELIA, MELETZA, LYZABETTA, _and_ LUCIA.

_Cel._ Faith, sister, I long to play with a feather!

Prithee, Lucia, bring the shuttlecock.

_Mel._ Out on him, light-pated fantastic! He's like

one of our gallants at----

_Lyz._ I wonder who thou speak'st well of.

_Mel._ Why, of myself; for, by my troth, I know none

else will.

_Cel._ Sweet sister Meletza, let's sit in judgment a

little, faith, of my servant, Monsieur[511] Laverdure.

_Mel._ Troth well, for a servant,[512] but for a husband

[_sighs_] I----[513] 11

_Lyz._ Why, why?

_Mel._ Why, he is not a plain fool, nor fair, nor fat, nor

rich, rich fool. But he is a knight; his honour will give

the passado in the presence to-morrow night; I hope he

will deserve. All I can say is as, as the common fiddlers

will say[514] in their "God send you well to do."

_Lyz._ How think'st thou of the amorous Jacomo?

_Mel._ Jacomo? why, on my bare troth----

_Cel._ Why bare troth? 20

_Mel._ Because my troth is like his chin, t'hath no hair

on't. God's me! his face looks like the head of a tabour;

but trust me he hath a good wit.

_Lyz._ Who told you so?

_Mel._ One that knows; one that can tell.

_Cel._ Who's that?

_Mel._ Himself.

_Lyz._ Well, wench; thou hadst a servant, one Fabius;

what hast thou done with him? 29

_Mel._ I done with him? Out of him, puppy! By this

feather, his beard is directly brick-colour, and perfectly

fashion'd like the husk of a chestnut; he kisses with the

driest lip. Fie on him!

_Cel._ O, but your servant Quadratus, the absolute

courtier!

_Mel._ Fie, fie! Speak no more of him: he lives by

begging. He is a fine courtier, flatters admirable, kisses

"fair madam," smells surpassing sweet; wears and holds

up the arras, supports the tapestry, when I pass into

the presence, very gracefully; and I assure you---- 40

_Luc._ Madam, here is your shuttlecock.

_Mel._ Sister, is not your waiting-wench rich?

_Cel._ Why, sister, why?

_Mel._ Because she can flatter. Prithee call her not:

she has twenty-four hours to madam[515] yet. Come, you;

you prate: i'faith, I'll toss you from post to pillar!

_Cel._ You post and I pillar.

_Mel._ No, no, you are the only post; you must support,

prove a wench, and bear; or else all the building

of your delight will fall---- 50

_Cel._ Down.

_Lyz._ What, must I stand out?

_Mel._ Ay, by my faith, till you be married.

_Lyz._ Why do you toss then?

_Mel._ Why, I am wed, wench.

_Cel._ Prithee to whom?

_Mel._ To the true husband, right head of a woman--my

will, which vows never to marry till I mean to be a

fool, a slave, starch cambric ruffs, and make candles;

(pur!)--'tis down, serve again, good wench. 60

_Luc._ By your pleasing cheek, you play well.

_Mel._ Nay, good creature, prithee do not flatter me.

I thought 'twas for something you go cased in your velvet

scabbard; I warrant these laces were ne'er stitch'd on

with true stitch. I have a plain waiting-wench; she

speaks plain, and, faith, she goes plain; she is virtuous,

and because she should go like virtue, by the consent of

my bounty, she shall never have above two smocks to her

back, for that's the fortune of desert, and the main in

fashion or reward of merit; (pur)!--just thus do I use my

servants. I strive to catch them in my racket, and no

sooner caught, but I toss them away: if he fly well and

have good feathers, I play with him[516] till he be down,

and then my maid serves him to me again: if a slug, and

weak-wing'd, if he be down, there let him lie. 75

_Cel._ Good Mell, I wonder how many servants thou hast.

_Mel._ Troth, so do I; let me see--Dupatzo.

_Lyz._ Dupatzo, which Dupatzo?

_Mel._ Dupatzo, the elder brother, the fool; he that

bought the halfpenny riband, wearing it in his ear,[517] swearing

'twas the Duchess of Milan's favour; he into whose

head a man may travel ten leagues before he can meet

with his eyes. Then there's my chub, my epicure,

Quadratus, that rubs his guts, claps his paunch, and

cries Rivo! entertaining my ears perpetually with a most

strong discourse of the praise of bottle-ale and red

herrings. Then there's Simplicius Faber. 87

_Lyz._ Why, he is a fool!

_Mel._ True, or else he would ne'er be my servant.

Then there's the cape-cloak'd courtier, Baltazar; he

wears a double, treble, quadruple ruff, ay, in the summertime.

Faith, I ha' servants enow, and I doubt not but

by my ordinary pride and extraordinary cunning to get

more.--Monsieur Laverdure, with a troop of gallants, is

ent'ring.

_Lyz._ He capers the lascivious blood about

Within heart-pants, nor leaps the eye nor lips:

Prepare yourselves to kiss, for you must be kiss'd. 98

_Mel._ By my troth, 'tis a pretty thing to be towards

marriage; a pretty loving----Look, where he comes.

Ha! ha!

_Enter_[518] LAVERDURE, QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO, _and_

SIMPLICIUS.

_Lav._ Good day, sweet love.

_Mel._ Wish her good night, man.

_Lav._ Good morrow, sister.

_Mel._ A curtsey to your[519] caper: to-morrow morn I'll

call you brother.

_Lav._ But much much falls betwixt the cup and lip.

_Mel._ Be not too confident, the knot may slip.

_Qua._ Bounty, blessedness, and the spirit of wine

attend my mistress. 110

_Mel._ Thanks, good chub.

_Sim._ God[520] ye good morrow heartily, mistress; and

how do you since last I saw you?

_Qua._ God's me, you must not enquire how she does;

that's privy counsel. Fie! there's manners indeed!

_Sim._ Pray you, pardon my incivility. I was somewhat

bold with you, but believe me I'll never be so

saucy to ask you how do you again as long as I live. La!

_Mel._ Square chub, what sullen black is that? 119

_Qua._ A tassel that hangs at my purse-strings. He

dogs me, and I give him scraps, and pay for his

ordinary, feed him; he liquors himself in the juice of

my bounty; and when he hath suck'd up strength of

spirit he squeezeth it in my own face; when I have

refined and sharp'd his wits with good food, he cuts my

fingers, and breaks jests upon me. I bear them, and

beat him; but by this light the dull-ey'd thinks he

does well, does very well; and but that he and I are

of two faiths--I fill my belly, and [he] feeds his brain--I

could find in my heart to hug him--to hug him. 130

_Mel._ Prithee, persuade him to assume spirit, and

salute us.

_Qua._ Lampatho, Lampatho, art out of countenance?

For wit's sake, salute these beauties. How doest like

them?

_Lam._ Uds fut! I can liken them to nothing but

great men's great horse upon great days, whose tails are

truss'd up in silk and silver.

_Qua._ To them, man; salute them.

_Lam._ Bless you, fair ladies! God make you all his

servants! 141

_Mel._ God make you all his servants!

_Qua._ He is holpen well had need of you; for be it

spoken without profanism, he hath more in this train.

I fear me you ha' more servants than he: I am sure the

devil is an angel of darkness.

_Lam._ Ay, but those are angels of light.

_Qua._ Light angels; prithee leave them; withdraw a

little, and hear a sonnet; prithee hear a sonnet.

_Lam._ Made of Albano's widow that was, and Monsieur

Laverdure's wife that must be. 151

_Qua._ Come, leave his lips, and command some

liquor; if you have no bottle-ale, command some claret

wine and borage,[521] for that's my predominate humour;

sleek-bellied Bacchus, let's fill thy guts.

_Lam._ Nay, hear it, and relish it judiciously.

_Qua._ I do relish it most judicially.

[QUADRATUS _drinks_.

_Lam._ _Adored excellence! delicious, sweet!_

_Qua._ Delicious, sweet! good, very good!

_Lam._ _If thou canst taste the purer juice of love._ 160

_Qua._ If thou canst taste the purer juice; good still,

good still. I do relish it; it tastes sweet.

_Lam._ Is not the metaphor good? Is't not well followed?

_Qua._ Passing good, very pleasing.

_Lam._ Is't not sweet?

_Qua._ Let me see't; I'll make it sweet;

I'll soak it in the juice of Helicon.

By'r Lady, passing sweet; good, passing sweet.

_Lam._ You wrong my muse.

_Qua._ The Irish flux upon thy muse, thy whorish muse.

Here is no place for her loose brothelry. 170

We will not deal with her. Go! away, away!

_Lam._ I'll be revenged.

_Qua._ How, prithee? in a play? Come, come, be sociable.

In private severance from society;

Here leaps a vein of blood inflamed with love,

Mounting to pleasure, all addict to mirth;

Thou'lt read a satire or a sonnet now,

Clagging their airy humour with----

_Lam._ Lamp-oil, watch-candles, rug-gowns,[522] and small juice,

Thin commons, four o'clock rising,--I renounce you all. 180

Now may I 'ternally abandon meat,

Rust, fusty, you which most embraced disuse,

You ha' made me an ass; thus shaped my lot,

I am a mere scholar, that is a mere sot.

_Qua._ Come, then, Lamp, I'll pour fresh oil into thee;

Apply thy spirit, that it may nimbly turn

Unto the habit, fashion of the age.

I'll make thee man the scholar, enable thy behaviour

Apt for the entertain of any presence. 189

I'll turn thee gallant: first thou shalt have a mistress:

How is thy spirit raised to yonder beauty?--

She with the sanguine cheek, the[523] dimpled chin;

The pretty amorous smile, that clips her lips

And dallies 'bout her cheek; she with the speaking eye,

That casts out beams as ardent as those flakes

Which singed the world by rash-brain'd Phaethon;

She with the lip;--O lips!--she, for whose sake

A man could find in his heart to inhell himself!

There's more philosophy, more theorems,

More demonstrations, all invincible, 200

More clear divinity drawn on her cheek,

Than in all volumes' tedious paraphrase

Of musty eld. O, who would staggering doubt

The soul's eternity, seeing it hath

Of heavenly beauty but to case it up!

Who would distrust a supreme existence,

Able to confound, when it can create

Such heaven on earth able to entrance,

Amaze! O, 'tis Providence, not chance!

_Lam._ Now, by the front of Jove, methinks her eye

Shoots more spirit in me. O beauty feminine; 211

How powerful art thou! What deep magic lies

Within the circle of thy speaking eyes!

_Qua._ Why, now could I eat thee; thou doest please

mine appetite. I can digest[524] thee. God make[525] thee

a good fool, and happy, and ignorant, and amorous,

and rich, and frail, and a satirist, and an essayist, and

sleepy, and proud, and indeed a fool, and then thou

shalt be sure of all these. Do but scorn her, she is

thine own; accost her carelessly, and her eye promiseth

she will be bound to the good abearing. 221

_Cel._ Now, sister Meletza, doest mark their craft;

some straggling thoughts transport thy attentiveness

from his discourse. Was't Jacomo's or our brother's

plot?

_Lav._ Both, both, sweet lady; my page heard all: we

met the rogue; so like Albano, I beat the rogue.

_Sim._ Ay, but when you were gone the rogue beat me.

_Lav._ Now, take my counsel: listen. 229

_Mel._ A pretty youth; a pretty well-shaped youth: a

good leg, a very good eye, a sweet ingenious[526] face, and

I warrant a good wit; nay, which is more, if he be

poor, I assure my soul he is chaste and honest; good

faith, I fancy I fancy him: ay, and I may chance;--well,

I'll think the rest.

_Qua._ I say, be careless still: court her without compliment;

take spirit.

_Lav._ Were' not a pleasing jest for me to clothe

Another rascal like Albano, say,

And rumour him return'd, without all deceit? 240

Would not beget errors most ridiculous?

_Qua._ _Meletza, bella, bellezza! Madonna, bella, bella,

gentelezza!_ prithee kiss this initiated gallant.

_Mel._ How would it please you I should respect ye?

_Lam._ As anything, What You Will, as nothing.

_Mel._ As nothing! How will you value my love?

_Lam._ Why, just as you respect me--as nothing; for

out of nothing, nothing is bred: so nothing shall not

beget anything, anything bring nothing, nothing bring

anything, anything and nothing shall be What You

Will; my speech mounting to the value of myself, which

is---- 252

_Mel._ What, sweet----

_Lam._ Your nothing, light as yourself, senseless as

your sex, and just as you would ha' me--nothing.

_Mel._ Your wit skips a morisco; but, by the brightest

spangle of my tire, I vouchsafe you entire unaffected

favour.

Wear this, gentle spirit, be not proud;

Believe it, youth, slow speech swift love doth often shroud. 260

_Lam._ My soul's entranced; your favour doth transport

My sense past sense, by your adorèd graces;

I doat, am rapt!

_Mel._ Nay, if you fall to passion and past sense,

My breast's no harbour for your love. Go, pack! hence!

_Qua._ Uds fut! thou gull! thou inky scholar! Ha, thou

whoreson fop!

Wilt not thou clap into our fashion'd gallantry?

Couldst not be proud and scornful, loose and vain?

God's my heart's object! what a plague is this?

_My soul's entranced!_ Fut! couldst not clip and kiss?

_My soul's entranced!_ ten thousand crowns at least 271

Lost, lost. _My soul's entranced!_ Love's life, O beast!

_Alb._ [_without_]. Celia, open; open, Celia: I would

enter: open, Celia!

_Fran._ [_without_]. Celia, open; open, Celia: I would

enter: open, Celia!

_Alb._ [_without_]. What, Celia, let in thy husband,

Albano: what, Celia!

_Fran._ [_without_]. What, Celia, let in thy husband,

Albano: what, Celia! 280

_Alb._ [_without_]. Uds f-f-f-fut! let Albano enter.

_Fran._ [_without_]. Uds f-f-f-fut! let Albano enter.

_Cel._ Sweet breast, you ha' play'd the wag, i'faith!

_Lav._[527] Believe it, sweet, not I.

_Mel._ Come, you have attired some fiddler like Albano,

to fright the perfumer; there's the jest.

_Enter_[528] RANDOLFO, ANDREA, _and_ JACOMO.

_Ran._ Good fortunes to our sister.

_Mel._ And a speedy marriage.

_And._[529] Then we must wish her no good fortunes.

_Jaco._ For shame! for shame! Straight dear your

house; sweep out this dust; fling out this trash; return

to modesty. Your husband! I say, your husband Albano,

that was supposed drown'd, is return'd,--ay, and at the

door! 293

_Cel._ Ha, ha! My husband! Ha, ha!

_And._[530] Laugh you? Shameless! Laugh you?

_Cel._ Come, come, your plot's discover'd. Good faith,

kinsmen, I am no scold. To shape a perfumer like my

husband! O sweet jest!

_Jaco._ Lost[531] hopes! all known.

_Cel._ For penance of your fault, will you maintain a

jest now? My love hath tired some fiddler like Albano,

like the Perfumer. 302

_Lav._ Not I: by blessedness, not I.

_Mel._ Come, 'tis true. Do but support the jest, and

you shall surfeit with laughter.

_Jaco._ Faith, we condescend; 'twill not be cross'd, I see.

Marriage and hanging go by destiny.

_Alb._ [_without_]. B-b-b-bar out Albano! O adulterous,

impudent!

_Fran._ [_without_]. B-b-b-bar out Albano! O thou

matchless g-g-g-giglet![532] 311

_Qua._ Let them in! Let them in! Now, now, now!

Observe, observe! Look, look, look!

_Enter_ ALBANO _and_ FRANCISCO.

_Jaco._ That same's a fiddler, shaped like thee. Fear

nought; be confident: thou shalt know the jest hereafter:

be confident; fear nought; blush not; stand

firm. 317

_Alb._ Now, brothers; now, gallants; now, sisters; now

call [me] a perfumer, a gutter-master. Bar me my house;

beat me,--baffle[533] me,--scoff me,--deride me! Ha,

that I were a young man again! By the mass, I would

ha' you all by the ears, by the mass, law! I am Francisco

Soranza! am I not, giglet, strumpet, cutters,[534]

swaggerers, brothel-haunters? I am Francisco! O God!

O slaves! O dogs, dogs, curs!

_Jaco._ No, sir; pray you, pardon us; we confess you

are not Francisco, nor a perfumer, but even---- 327

_Alb._ But even Albano.

_Jaco._ But even a fiddler,--a minikin-tickler,[535]--a pumpum!

_Fran._ A scraper, scraper!

Art not asham'd, before Albano's face,

To clip his spouse? O shameless, impudent!

_Jaco._ Well said, perfumer.

_Alb._ A fiddler,--a scraper,--a minikin-tickler,--a pum,

a pum!--even now a perfumer,--now a fiddler!--I will

be even What You Will. Do, do, do, k-k-k-kiss my wife

be-be-be-be-fore----

_Qua._ Why, wouldst have him kiss her behind?

_Alb._ Before my own f-f-f-face! 340

_Jaco._ Well done, fiddler!

_Alb._ I'll f-f-fiddle ye!

_Fran._ Dost f-f-flout me?

_Alb._ Dost m-m-m-mock me?

_Fran._ I'll to the duke. I'll p-p-p-paste up infamies

on every post.

_Jaco._ 'Twas rarely, rarely done. Away, away! 347

[_Exit_ FRANCISCO.

_Alb._ I'll f-f-follow, though I st-st-st-stut; I'll stumble

to the duke: in p-p-plain language, I pray you use my

wife well. Good faith, she was a kind soul, and an

honest woman once: I was her husband, and was called

Albano, before I was drown'd; but now, after my resurrection,

I am I know not what; indeed, brothers, and

indeed, sisters, and indeed, wife, I am What You Will.

Doest thou laugh? dost thou ge-ge-ge-gern?[536] A p-p-p-perfumer,--a

fiddler, a--_Diabolo, matre de Dios_,--I'll

f-f-f-firk you, by the Lord, now,[537] now I will!

[_Exit_ ALBANO.

_Qua._ Ha, ha! 'tis a good rogue, a good rogue!

_Lav._ A good rogue! Ha! I know him not.

_Cel._ No, good sweet love. Come, come, dissemble not. 360

_Lav._ Nay, if you dread nothing, happy be my lot.

Come, _via_, _sest_;[538] come, fair cheeks; come, let's dance:

The sweets of love is amorous dalliance.

_Cel._ All friends, all happy friends, my veins are light.

_Lyz._ Thy prayers are now, God send it quickly night!

_Mel._ And then come morning.

_Lyz._ Ay, that's the hopeful day.

_Mel._ Ay, there thou hitt'st it.

_Qua._ Pray God he hit it.

_Lav._ Play!

_The Dance._

_Jaco._ They say there's revels and a play at court.

_Lav._ A play to-night?

_Qua._ Ay, 'tis this gallant's wit.

_Jaco._ Is't good? Is't good?

_Lam._ I fear 'twill hardly hit. 370

_Qua._ I like thy fear well; 'twill have better chance;

There's nought more hateful than rank ignorance.

_Cel._ Come, gallants, the table's spread; will you to dinner?

_Qua._ Yes; first a main at dice, and then we'll eat.

_Sim._ Truly the best wits have the badd'st fortune at

dice still.

_Qua._ Who'll play? who'll play?

_Sim._ Not I; in truth I have still exceeding bad

fortune at dice.

_Cel._ Come, shall we in? In faith thou art sudden sad.

Doest fear the shadow of my long-dead lord? 381

_Lav._ Shadow! Ha! I cannot tell.

Time trieth all things: well, well, well!

_Qua._ Would I were Time, then. I thought 'twas for

something that the old fornicator was bald behind. Go;

pass on, pass on.

[_Exeunt._

[511] Omitted in ed. 2.

[512] Lover, admirer.

[513] Old eds. "but for a husband (sigh) I." Dilke reads "but for

a husband, fie, I----"

[514] It was customary for fiddlers to play beneath the bride's

window on the morning after the wedding.

[515] Celia was to marry the knight on the following day.

[516] Old eds. "them."

[517] "_Punt._ Is she your mistress?

"_Fast._ Faith, here be some slight favours of hers, sir,

that do speak it she is; as this scarf, sir, or _this riband in

my ear_, or so."--_Every Man out of his Humour_, ii. 1.

[518] Not marked in old eds.

[519] Ed. 1. "you."

[520] A common abbreviation for "God give you good morrow."

[521] Dilke has an extraordinary note:--"In Cotgrave's French

Dictionary, Bourrachon is explained 'a tippler, quaffer,

toss-pot, whip-can,' &c. _Burrage_ may therefore, I conceive,

mean _beverage_." In that detestable concoction, claret-cup, the

herb borage is still used; and Gerard, in his _Herbal_ (1597)

tells us that "the leaves and flowers of borage put into wine

maketh men and women glad and merry, and driveth away all

sadness, dulness, and melancholy" (p. 654).

[522] Cf. _Every Man out of his Humour_, iii. 2:--"You

sky-staring coxcombs you, you fat-brains, out upon you! You are

good for nothing but to sweat night-caps and make _rug-gowns_

dear." Gifford remarks:--"This was the usual dress of

mathematicians, astrologers, &c., when engaged in their sublime

speculations."

[523] Ed. 2. "that."

[524] Ed. 1. "disist."

[525] Old eds. "made."

[526] Ed. 2. "ingenuous." See note 1, p. 109.

[527] Old eds. "_Qua._"

[528] Not marked in old eds.

[529] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[530] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[531] Old eds. "Last."

[532] Wanton woman.

[533] Insult.

[534] Huffing gallants, roisterers.

[535] _Tickle the minikin_--play on the fiddle. Cf. Middleton's

_Family of Love_, i. 3:--"One touches the bass, the other

_tickles the minikin_."

[536] Grin, snarl.

[537] Ed. 2. "now, now, now."

[538] See note, p. 374.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

ALBANO'S _house; a Street; the Duke's palace_.

_The curtains are drawn by a Page, and_ CELIA _and_ LAVERDURE,

QUADRATUS _and_ LYZABETTA, LAMPATHO _and_ MELETZA, SIMPLICIUS

_and_ LUCIA, _displayed, sitting at dinner. The song is sung,

during which a Page whispers with_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Qua._ _Feed,_[539] _and be fat, my fair Calipolis._

Rivo,[540] here's good juice, fresh borage, boy!

_Lam._ I commend, commend myself to ye, lady.

_Mel._ In troth, sir, you dwell far from neighbours, that

are enforced to commend yourself.

_Qua._ Why, Simplicius, whither now, man? for good

fashion's sake, stir not; sit still, sit still.

_Sim._ I must needs rise; much good do it you.

_Qua._ Doest thou think thy rising will do them much

good? Sit still; sit still; carve me of that, good

Meletza. Fill, Bacchus, fill! 11

_Sim._ I must needs be gone; and you'll come to my

chamber to-morrow morning, I send you a hundred

crowns.

_Qua._ In the name of prosperity, what tide of happiness

so suddenly flow'd upon thee?

_Sim._ I'll keep a horse and four boys, with grace of

fortune now.

_Qua._ Now, then, i'faith, get up and ride. 19

_Sim._ And I do not, I'll thwack[541] a jerkin till he groan

again with gold lace. Let me see; what should I desire

of God? Marry, a cloak, lined with rich taffeta; white

satin suit; and my gilt rapier from pawn: nay, she

shall give me a chain of pearl, that shall pay for all.

Good-bye, good signior; good-bye, good signior.

_Qua._ Why, now, thou speaketh in the most embraced

fashion that our time hugs; no sooner a good fortune

or a fresh suit falls upon a fellow that would ha' been

gull'd to ha' shoved into your society, but, and he me[e]t

you, he fronts you with a faint eye, throws a squint glance

over a wried shoulder, and cries 'twixt the teeth, as very

parsimonious of breath, "Good-bye, good signior; good-bye,

good signior." Death, I will search the lifeblood

of your hopes. 34

_Sim._ And a fresh pearl-colour silk stocking----O

ay, ay, ay, ay, I'll go to the half-crown ordinary[542] every

meal; I'll have my ivory box of tobacco; I'll converse

with none but counts and courtiers. Now,--good-bye,

good signior,--a pair of massy silver spurs, too, a hatch[543]

short sword, and then your embroider'd hanger;[544] and,

good signior---- 41

_Qua._ Shut the windows, darken the room, fetch whips;

the fellow is mad: he raves, he raves,--talks idly,--lunatic:

who procures thy----

_Sim._ One that has ate fat capon, suck'd the boil'd

chicken, and let out his wit with the fool of bounty, one

Fabius. I'll scorn him; he goes upon Fridays in black

satin. 48

_Qua._ Fabius! By this light, a cogging cheator:[545] he

lives on love of merchants' wives; he stands on the base

of mains;[546] he furnisheth your ordinary, for which he

feeds scot-free; keeps fair gold in his purse, to put on

upon mains, by which he lives, and keeps a fair boy at

his heels: he is damn'd Fabius.

_Sim._ He is a fine man, law, and has a good wit; for

when he list he can go in black satin, ay, and in a cloak

lined with unshorn velvet. 57

_Qua._ By the salvation of humanity, he's more pestilent

than the plague of lice that fell upon Egypt; thou hast

been knave if thou credit it; thou art an ass if thou

follow it; and shalt be a perpetual idiot if thou pursue

it: renounce the world, the flesh, the devil, and thy trust

in men's wives, for they will double with thee: and

so I betake myself to the sucking of the juice capon,

my ingle bottle-ale, and his gentleman usher, that

squirers him, red herring. A fool I found thee and

a fool I leave thee; bear record, Heaven, 'tis against

the providence of my speech. Good-bye, good signior.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ SLIP, NOUS, DOIT, _and_ BIDET.

_Sim._ Ha, ha, ha! Good-bye, good signior! What a

fool 'tis! Ha, ha, what an ass 'tis! Save you, young

gentlemen, is she coming? Will she meet me? Shall's

encounter? Ha? 72

_Bid._ You were not lapt in your mother's smock:[547] you

ha' not a good cheek, an enticing eye, a smooth skin, a

well-shaped leg, a fair hand: you cannot bring a wench

into a fool's paradise for you.

_Sim._ Not I, by this garter. I am a fool, a very ninny,

I! How call you her? How call you her?

_Bid._ Call her? You rise on your right side to-day,

marry. Call her? her name is Mistress Perpetuana:

she is not very fair, nor goes extraordinary gay. 81

_Sim._ She has a good skin?

_Bid._ A good skin? She is wealthy; her husband's a

fool: she'll make you; she wears the breeches: she'll

make you----

_Sim._ I'll keep two men, and they shall be tailors; they

shall make suits continually, and those shall be cloth of

silver. 88

_Bid._ You may go in beaten precious stones every day.

Marry, I must acquaint you with some observances,

which you must pursue most religiously. She has a

fool; a natural fool waits on her, that is indeed her

pander; to him, at the first, you must be bounteous;

whatsoe'er he craves,--be it your hat, cloak, rapier,

purse, or such trifle,--give't, give't; the night will pay

all; and to draw all suspect from pursuing her love for

base gain sake. 97

_Sim._ Give't? by this light, I'll give't, were't--Gain! I

care not for her chain of pearl, only her love: gain!

The first thing her bounty shall fetch is my blush-colour

satin suit from pawn: gain!

_Bid._ When you hear one wind a cornet, she is coming

down Saint Mark's Street: prepare your speech, suck

your lips, lighten your spirits, fresh your blood, sleek

your cheeks, for now thou shalt be made for ever (a perpetual

and eternal gull).

[_Exit_ BIDET.

_Sim._ I shall so ravish her with my courtship; I have

such variety of discourse, such copy[548] of phrase to begin,

as this:--Sweet lady, Ulysses' dog, after his master's ten

years' travel--I shall so tickle her: or thus,--Pure

beauty, there is a stone[549]---- 111

_Slip._ Two stones, man.

_Sim._ Call'd--'tis no matter what. I ha' the eloquence;

I am not to seek, I warrant you.

_The cornet is winded. Enter_ PIPPO, BIDET; Pippo _attired

like a merchant's wife, and_ BIDET _like a fool_.

Sweet lady, Ulysses' dog, there's a stone called---- O

Lord! what shall I say?

_Slip._ Is all your eloquence come to this?

_Sim._ The glorious radiant of your glimmering eyes,

your glittering beauties blind my wit, and dazzle my----

_Pip._ I'll put on my mask, and please you; pray you,

wink, pray you. 121

_Bid._ O fine man! my mistress loves you best. I

dreamt you ga' me this sword and dagger. I love your

hat and feather, O----

_Sim._ Do not cry, man; do not cry, man: thou shalt

ha' them. Ay, and they were----

_Bid._ O, that purse, with all the white pence in it!

Fine man! I love you! Give you the fine red pence

soon at night? He! I thank you: where's the fool

now? 130

_Sim._ He has all my money; I have to keep myself,

and----

_Slip._ Poght!

_Pip._ Sir, the fool shall lead you to my house; the

fool shall not. At night I expect you: till then, take

this seal of my affection.

_Qua._ [_within_]. What, Simplicius!

_Sim._ I come, Quadratus. Gentlemen, as yet I can

but thank you; but I must be trusted for my ordinary

soon at night: or stay, I'll--The fool has unfurnish'd

me; but 'twill come again, good bye. 141

_Qua._ [_within_]. What, ho! Simplicius!

_Sim._ Good bye, good boys. I come, I come, good

bye,[550] good boys.

[_Exit._

_Bid._ The fool shall wait on thee. Now, do I merit

to be yclept, _Bosphoros Carmelydon Honorificacuminos

Bidet_? Who, who has any square dice?

_Pip._ Marry, sir, that have I.

_Bid._ Thou shalt lose thy share for it in our purchase.[551]

_Pip._ I pray you now, pray you now. 150

_Bid._ Sooner the whistle[552] of a mariner

Shall sleek the rough curbs of the ocean back.--

Now speak I like myself: thou shalt lose thy share.

_Enter_ Quadratus, LAVERDURE, _and_ CELIA; SIMPLICIUS, MELETZA,

Lyzabetta, LUCIA, _and_ LAMPATHO.

_Pip._ Ha! take all, then. Ha!

_Qua._ Without cloak, or hat, or rapier? Fie!

_Sim._ God's me! Look yonder. Who gave you these

things?

_Bid._ Mistress Perpetuana's fool.

_Sim._ Mistress Perpetuana's fool! Ha, ha! there lies

a jest. Signor, the fool promised me he would not

leave me. 161

_Bid._ I know the fool well. He will stick to you:

does not use to forsake any youth that is enamour'd on

another man's wife; he strives to keep company with a

crimson satin suit continually; he loves to be all one

with a critic; a good wit, self-conceited, a hawk-bearer,

a dog-keeper, and great with the nobility; he doats

upon a mere scholar, an honest flat fool; but, above

all, he is all one with a fellow whose cloak hath a better

inside than his outside, and his body richer lined than

his brain. 171

_Sim._ Uds so! I am cozened.

_Pip._ Pray you, master, pardon me; I must lose my

share.

_Sim._ Give me my purse again.

_Bid._ You gave it me, and I'll keep't.

_Qua._ Well done, my honest crack, thou shalt be my

ingle for't.

_Lav._ He shall keep all, maugre thy beardless chin, thy

eyes. 180

_Sim._ I may go starve till midsummer quarter.

_Qua._ Fool! Get thee hence.

_Pip._ I'll to school again, that I will: I left in _ass in

presenti_, and I'll begin in _ass in presenti_; and so good

night, fair gentry.

[_Exit_ PIPPO.

_Qua._ The triple idiot's coxcomb crown[553] thee,

Bitter epigrams confound thee;

Cuckold be whene'er thou bride thee;

Through every comic scene be drawn;

Never come thy clothes from pawn; 190

Never may thy shame be sheathed,

Never kiss a wench sweet-breathed.

[_Cornets sound._

_Enter as many Pages with torches as you can_; RANDOLFO,

ANDREA,[554] JACOMO _bare-headed; the Duke with attendants_.

_Ran._ Cease! the duke approacheth: 'tis almost night,

For the duke's up: now begins his day.

Come, grace his entrance. Lights! lights! Now 'gins our play.

_Duke._ Still these same bawling pipes: sound softer strains!

Slumber our sense: tut! these are vulgar strains.

Cannot your trembling wires throw a chain

Of powerful rapture 'bout our mazèd sense?

Why is our chair thus cushion'd tapestry, 200

Why is our bed tirèd with wanton sports,

Why are we clothed in glistering attires,

If common bloods can hear, can feel,

Can sit as soft, lie as lascivious,

Strut[555] all as rich as the greatest potentate:--

Soul! and you cannot feast my thristing[556] ears

With aught but what the lip of common birth can taste,

Take all away; your labour's idly waste.

What sport for night?

_Lam._ A comedy, entitled Temperance. 210

_Duke._ What sot elects that subject for the court?

What should dame Temperance do here? Away!

The itch on Temperance, your moral play!

_Qua._ Duke, prince, royal blood!--thou that hast the

best means to be damn'd of any lord in Venice;--thou

great man! let me kiss thy flesh. I am fat,[557] and therefore

faithful; I will do that which few of thy subjects

do,--love thee: but I will never do that which all thy

subjects do,--flatter thee thy humour's real, good. A comedy! 220

No, and thy sense would banquet in delights

Appropriate to the blood of emperors,

Peculiar to the state of majesty,

That none can relish but dilated greatness,

Vouchsafe to view the structure of a scene

That stands on tragic solid passion.

O that's fit traffic to commerce with births,

Strain'd from the mud of base unable brains!

Give them a scene may force their struggling blood

Rise up on tiptoe in attention, 230

And fill their intellect with pure elixed wit;

O that's for greatness apt, for princes fit!

_Duke._ Darest thou then undertake to suit our ears

With such rich vestment?

_Qua._ Dare! Yes, my prince, I dare;--nay, more, I will.

And I'll present a subject worth thy soul;--

The honour'd end of Cato Utican.

_Duke._ Who'll personate him?

_Qua._ Marry, that will I, on sudden, without change.

_Duke._ Thou want'st a beard. 240

_Qua._ Tush! a beard ne'er made Cato, though many

men's Cato hang only on their chin.

Suppose this floor the city Utica,

The time the night that prolonged Cato's death;

Now being placed 'mong his philosophers,

These first discourse the soul's eternity.

_Jaco._ Cato grants that, I am sure, for he was valiant

and honest, which an epicure ne'er was, and a coward

never will be.

_Qua._ Then Cato holds a distinct notion 250

Of individual actions after death.

This being argued, his resolve maintains

A true magnanimous spirit should give up dirt

To dirt, and with his own flesh dead his flesh,

'Fore chance should force it crouch unto his foe;

To kill one's self, some ay, some hold it no.

O these are points would entice away one's soul

To break indenture of base prenticage,

_Enter_ FRANCISCO.

And run away from 's body in swift thoughts,

To melt in contemplation's luscious sweets! 260

Now, O my voluptuous duke, I'll feed thy sense

Worth his creation: give me audience.

_Fran._ My liege, my royal liege, hear, hear my suit.

_Qua._ Now may thy breath ne'er smell sweet as long as

thy lungs can pant, for breaking my speech, thou Muscovite!

thou stinking perfumer! 266

_Enter_ ALBANO.

_Duke._ Is not this Albano, our sometimes courtier?

_Fran._ No, troth, but Francisco, your always perfumer.

_Alb._ Lorenzo Celso, our brave Venice Duke, Albano

Belletzo, thy merchant, thy soldier, thy courtier, thy slave,

thy anything, thy What thou Wilt, kisseth thy noble

blood. Do me right, or else I am canonized a cuckold!

canonized a cuckold! I am abused!--I am abused!--my

wife's abused!--my clothes abused!--my shape,--my

house,--my all,--abused! I am sworn out of myself,--beated

out of myself,--baffled,--jeer'd at,--laugh'd at,--barred

my own house,--debarr'd my own wife!--whilst

others swill my wines,--gormandize my meat, meat,--kiss

my wife!--O gods! O gods! O gods! O gods!

O gods! 280

_Lav._ Who is't? Who is't?

_Cel._ Come, sweet, this is your waggery, i'faith; as if

you knew him not.

_Lav._ Yes, I fear I do too well: would I could slide

away invisible.

_Duke._ Assured this is he.

_Jaco._ My worthy liege, the jest comes only thus.

Now to stop and cross it with mere like deceit:

All being known, the French knight hath disguised

A fiddler, like Albano too, to fright the perfumer:--this

is all. 291

_Duke._ Art sure 'tis true?

_Mel._ 'Tis confess'd 'tis right.

_Alb._ Ay, 'tis right, 'tis true; right; I am a fiddler, a

fiddler, a fiddler,--uds fut! a fiddler. I'll not believe

thee; thou art a woman: and 'tis known, _veritas non

quærit angulos_, truth seeks not to lurk under varthingalls;

_veritas non quærit angulos_; a fiddler?

_Lav._ Worthy sir, pardon; and permit me first to confess

[to] yourself,--your deputation[558] dead, hath made my

love live, to offend you. 301

_Alb._ Ay, mock on,--scoff on,--flout on,--do, do, do.

_Lav._ Troth, sir, in serious.

_Alb._ Ay, good, good; come hither, Celia.

Burst, breast! rive, heart, asunder! Celia,

Why startest thou back? Seest thou this, Celia?

O me!

How often, with lascivious touch, thy lip

Hath kissed this mark? How oft this much-wrong'd breast

Hath borne the gentle weight of thy soft cheek? 310

_Cel._ O me, my dearest lord,--my sweet, sweet love!

_Alb._ What, a fiddler,--a fiddler? now thy love?

I am sure thou scorn'st it; nay, Celia, I could tell

What, on the night before I went to sea,

And took my leave, with hymeneal rites,

What thou lisped

Into my ear, a fiddler and perfumer now!

_And._[559] And----

_Ran._ Dear brother.

_Jaco._ Most respected signior;

Believe it, by the sacred end of love, 320

What much, much wrong hath forced your patience,

Proceeded from most dear affièd love,

Devoted to your house.

_And._[559] Believe it, brother.

_Jaco._ Nay, yourself, when you shall hear the occurrences,

will say 'tis happy, comical.

_Ran._ Assure thee, brother.

_Alb._ Shall I be brave? Shall I be myself now?

Love, give me thy love; brothers, give me your breasts;

French knight, reach me thy hand; perfumer, thy fist.

Duke, I invite thee; love, I forgive thee; Frenchman,

I hug thee. I'll know all,--I'll pardon all,--and I'll

laugh at all!

[ALBANO _and his brothers talk apart_.

_Qua._ And I'll curse you all!--O ye ha' interrupt a

scene! 334

_Duke._ Quadratus, we will hear these points discuss'd,

With apter and more calm affected hours.

_Qua._ Well, good, good.

_Alb._ Was't even so? I'faith, why then, capricious mirth,

Skip light moriscoes in our frolic blood,[560]

Flagg'd veins, sweat,[561] plump with fresh-infusèd joys!

Laughter, pucker our cheeks, make shoulders shog

With chucking lightness! Love, once more thy lips!

For ever clasp our hands, our hearts, our crests! 343

Thus front, thus eyes, thus cheek, thus all shall meet!

Shall clip, shall hug, shall kiss, my dear, dear sweet!

Duke, wilt thou see me revel? Come, love, dance

Court, gallants, court; suck amorous dalliance!

_Lam._ Beauty, your heart!

_Mel._ First, sir, accept my hands:

She leaps too rash that falls in sudden bands.

_Lam._ Shall I despair? Never will I love more! 350

_Mel._ No sea so boundless vast but hath a shore.

_Qua._ Why, marry me;

Thou canst have but soft flesh, good blood, sound bones;

And that which fills up all your bracks,--good stones.

_Lyz._ Stones, trees, and beasts, in love still firmer prove

Than man; I'll none; no hold-fasts in your loves.

_Lav._ Since not the mistress,--come on, faith, the maid!

_Alb._ Ten thousand duckets, too, to boot, are laid.

_Lav._ Why, then, wind cornets, lead on, jolly lad.

_Alb._ Excuse me, gallants, though my legs lead wrong,

'Tis my first footing; wind out nimble tongue. 361

_Duke._ 'Tis well, 'tis well:--how shall we spend this night?

_Qua._ Gulp Rhenish wine, my liege; let our paunch rent;

Suck merry jellies; preview, but not prevent,

No mortal can, the miseries of life.

_Alb._ I home invite you all. Come, sweet, sweet wife.

My liege, vouchsafe thy presence.

Drink, till the ground look blue, boy!

_Qua._ Live still in springing hopes, still in fresh new joys!--

May your loves happy hit in fair-cheek'd wives, 370

Your flesh still plump with sapp'd restoratives.

That's all my honest frolic heart can wish.

A fico for the mew and envious pish!

Till night, I wish good food and pleasing day;

But then sound rest. So ends our slight-writ play.

[_Exeunt._

_Deo op: max: gratias._

END OF VOL. II.

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO.

EDINBURGH AND LONDON.

[539] From the _Battle of Alcazar_, 1594 (attributed to

Peele):--"Feed then and faint not, fair Calipolis." Pistol in 2

_Henry IV._ quotes the line as it is given by Marston.

[540] See note 4, p. 355. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote [452]]

[541] _i.e._, cover or embroider thickly. Cf. Guilpin's

_Skialetheia_, epigr. 53:--

"He wears a jerkin _cudgell'd_ with gold lace,

A profound slop, a hat scarce pipkin-high."

[542] Half-a-crown was a somewhat extravagant price for an

ordinary. Two shillings or eighteenpence was the usual price for

a good ordinary.

[543] _Hatch'd sword_ was a sword with an engraved hilt.

[544] See note, vol. i. p. 36.

[545] _Cheator_ was a cant term for a rogue who made his living

by cheating at dice.--"Cheating Law--or the art of winning money

by false dice: those that practise this study call themselves

_cheators_, the dice cheaters, and the money which they purchase

cheats."--Dekker's _Bellman of London_ (_Works_, ed. Grosart,

iii. 117).

[546] Throws at dice.

[547] "_He was wrapt up in the tail of his mother's

smock_,--saying of any one remarkable for his success with the

ladies."--Grose's _Class. Dict. of the Vulgar Tongue_.

[548] _i.e._, copiousness.--Ben Jonson was fond of using the word

_copy_ in this sense.

[549] Simplicius seems to be trying to recall some passage of

_Euphues_.

[550] Old eds. "boyes."

[551] Plunder.

[552] "This may be an allusion," says Dilke, "to a superstition

still existing in a degree among sailors, that to whistle during

a storm will increase its violence." No such allusion is

intended. The "whistle" is the boatswain's whistle.

[553] Old eds. "crownes."

[554] Old eds. "ADRIAN."

[555] Ed. 1. "stut."

[556] Ed. 2. "thirsting."--Spenser has _thrist_ and _thristy_

(for _thirst_ and _thirsty_).

[557] Cf. _Jul. Ceas._, i. 2:--"Let me have men about me that are

fat," &c.

[558] _i.e._, the report that you were dead.

[559] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[560] Cf. _Second Part of Antonio and Mellida_, v. 2:--

"Force the plump-lipp'd god

Skip light lavoltas in your full-sapp'd veins."

[561] Old eds. "sweete" and "sweet."

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Text was not wrapped so that line numbers would be consistent with the

original text.

Punctuation, use of hyphens, and accent marks were standardized.

Obsolete and alternative spellings were left unchanged. In Footnote [431],

the letter 'i' with a macron is indicated '[=i]' and 'i' with a breve is

indicated '[)i]'.

Footnotes were numbered sequentially, indented, and moved to the end

of the scene to which they pertain. There are three anchors for

Footnote [487], and two for Footnotes [488] and [559].

Phrases in Greek were transliterated.

The referenced work in Footnote [450] is missing the word 'Walden'

after 'Saffron' in the original.

The following changes were made within the text:

Dutch Courtezan:

Footnote [54], 'parabantar' to 'parabantur'

Act IV, Scene V, line 99, 'Mal.' to 'Mul.'

Act V, Scene I, line 20, 'Fa.' to 'Fra.'

The Fawn:

Footnote [133], added 'Bacon' to 'History of Fryer Bacon'

Act III, Scene I, line 540, 'Her.' to 'Herc.'

Act V, Scene I. line 254, 'Donnella'; to 'Donnetta'

Footnote [149], 'Theallusi on' to 'The allusion'

Footnote [264], 'ca' to 'cat' ... can turn a woman into a cat ...

What You Will:

Act I, Scene I, line 129, 'Iaco.' to 'Jaco.'

Act II, Scene I, line 6, 'mor' to 'mon' ... mon Dieu, ma vie ...

Act III, Scene I, line 51, _Pan._ to _Ran._

End of Project Gutenberg's The Works of John Marston, by John Marston