Act 1 — [Scene I.][2486]
Reading edition
[Scene I.][2486]
Enter Bellafront and Matheo.
Bell. O my sweet husband! wert thou in thy grave and art alive again? Oh welcome, welcome!
Mat. Dost know me? My cloak, prithee, lay ’t up. Yes, faith, my winding-sheet was taken5 out of lavender, to be stuck with rosemary:[2487] I lackt but the knot here, or here; yet if I had had it, I should ha’ made a wry mouth at the world like a plaice: but, sweetest villain, I am here now and I will talk with thee soon.10
Bell. And glad am I th’ art here.
Mat. Did these heels caper in shackles? Ah! my little plump rogue, I ’ll bear up for all this, and fly high. Catso catso.[2488]
Bell. Matheo?15
Mat. What sayest, what sayest? O brave fresh air! a pox on these grates and gingling of keys, and rattling of iron. I ’ll bear up, I ’ll fly high, wench, hang toff.[2489]
Bell. Matheo, prithee, make thy prison thy glass,20 And in it view the wrinkles and the scars By which thou wert disfigur’d: viewing them, mend them.
Mat. I ’ll go visit all the mad rogues now, and the good roaring boys.[2490]
Bell. Thou dost not hear me?25
Mat. Yes, faith, do I.
Bell. Thou has been in the hands of misery, and ta’en strong physic; prithee now be sound.
Mat. Yes. ’Sfoot, I wonder how the inside of a tavern looks now. Oh, when shall I30 bizzle, bizzle.[2491]
Bell. Nay, see, thou ’rt thirsty still for poison! Come, I will not have thee swagger. Mat. Honest ape’s face! Bell. ’T is that sharp’ned an axe to cut thy throat. Good love, I would not have thee sell thy substance35 And time, worth all, in those damn’d shops of hell; Those dicing houses, that stand never well But when they stand most ill; that four-squar’d sin[2492] Has almost lodg’d us in the beggar’s inn. Besides, to speak which even my soul does grieve,40 A sort[2493] of ravens have hung upon thy sleeve, And fed upon thee: good Mat, if you please, Scorn to spread wing amongst so base as these; By them thy fame is speckled, yet it shows Clear amongst them; so crows are fair with crows.45 Custom in sin, gives sin a lovely dye; Blackness in Moors is no deformity.
Mat. Bellafront, Bellafront, I protest to thee, I swear, as I hope for my soul, I will turn over a new leaf. The prison I confess50 has bit me; the best man that sails in such a ship, may be lousy.
[Knocking within.]
Bell. One knocks at door.
Mat. I ’ll be the porter. They shall see a jail cannot hold a brave spirit, I ’ll fly high. 55
Exit.
Bell. How wild is his behaviour! Oh, I fear He ’s spoil’d by prison, he ’s half damn’d comes there. But I must sit all storms: when a full sail His fortunes spread, he lov’d me; being now poor, I ’ll beg for him, and no wife can do more.60
Re-enter Matheo, with Orlando like a Serving-man.
Mat. Come in, pray! would you speak with me, sir?
Orl. Is your name Signor Matheo?
Mat. My name is Signor Matheo.
Orl. Is this gentlewoman your wife, sir?65
Mat. This gentlewoman is my wife, sir.
Orl. The Destinies spin a strong and even thread of both your loves!—[Aside.] The mother’s own face, I ha’ not forgot that.—I ’m an old man, sir, and am troubled with a70 whoreson salt rheum, that I cannot hold my water.—Gentlewoman, the last man I served was your father.
Bell. My father? Any tongue that sounds his name, Speaks music to me; welcome, good old man! How does my father? Lives he? Has he health?76 How does my father?—[Aside.] I so much do shame him, So much do wound him, that I scarce dare name him.
Orl. I can speak no more.
Mat. How, old lad, what, dost cry?80
Orl. The rheum still, sir, nothing else; I should be well season’d, for mine eyes lie in brine. Look you, sir, I have a suit to you.
Mat. What is ’t, my little white-pate?
Orl. Troth, sir, I have a mind to serve your worship.86
Mat. To serve me? Troth, my friend, my fortunes are, as a man may say—
Orl. Nay, look you, sir, I know, when all sins are old in us, and go upon crutches, that covetousness90 does but then lie in her cradle; ’t is not so with me. Lechery loves to dwell in the fairest lodging, and covetousness in the oldest buildings, that are ready to fall: but my white head, sir, is no inn for such a gossip. If a95 serving-man at my years be not stored with biscuit enough, that has sailed about the world, to serve him the voyage out of his life, and to bring him East home, ill pity but all his days should be fasting days. I care not so much100 for wages, for I have scraped a handful of gold together. I have a little money, sir, which I would put into your worship’s hands, not so much to make it more—104
Mat. No, no, you say well, thou sayest well; but I must tell you,—How much is the money, sayest thou?
Orl. About twenty pound, sir.
Mat. Twenty pound? Let me see: that shall bring thee in, after ten per centum per annum.—111
Orl. No, no, no, sir, no: I cannot abide to have money engender: fie upon this silver lechery, fie! If I may have meat to my mouth, and rags to my back, and a flock-bed to115 snort upon when I die, the longer liver take all.
Mat. A good old boy, i’ faith! If thou servest me, thou shalt eat as I eat, drink as I drink, lie as I lie, and ride as I ride.
Orl. [Aside.] That ’s if you have money120 to hire horses.
Mat. Front, what dost thou think on ’t? This good old lad here shall serve me.
Bell. Alas, Matheo, wilt thou load a back That is already broke?125
Mat. Peace, pox on you, peace. There ’s a trick in ’t, I fly high; it shall be so. Front, as I tell you. Give me thy hand, thou shalt serve me i’faith: welcome. As for your money—
Orl. Nay, look you, sir, I have it here.130
Mat. Pish, keep it thyself, man, and then thou ’rt sure ’t is safe.
Orl. Safe! an ’t were ten thousand ducats, your worship should be my cash-keeper. I have heard what your worship is, an excellent135 dunghill cock, to scatter all abroad; but I ’ll venture twenty pounds on ’s head.
[Gives money to Matheo.]
Mat. And didst thou serve my worshipful father-in-law, Signor Orlando Friscobaldo, that madman, once?140
Orl. I served him so long, till he turned me out of doors.
Mat. It ’s a notable chuff;[2494] I ha’ not seen him many a day.
Orl. No matter an you ne’er see him;145 it ’s an arrant grandee, a churl, and as damn’d a cut-throat.
Bell. Thou villain, curb thy tongue! Thou art a Judas, To sell thy master’s name to slander thus.
Mat. Away, ass! He speaks but truth, thy father is a—151
Bell. Gentleman.
Mat. And an old knave. There ’s more deceit in him than in sixteen ’pothecaries: it ’s a devil; thou may’st beg, starve, hang, damn! does he send thee so much as a cheese?156
Orl. Or so much as a gammon of bacon; he ’ll give it his dogs first.
Mat. A jail, a jail.
Orl. A Jew, a Jew, sir.160
Mat. A dog!
Orl. An English mastiff, sir.
Mat. Pox rot out his old stinking garbage!
Bell. Art not asham’d to strike an absent man thus? Art not asham’d to let this vild[2495] dog bark,165 And bite my father thus? I ’ll not endure it. Out of my doors, base slave!
Mat. Your doors? a vengeance! I shall live to cut that old rogue’s throat, for all you take his part thus.170
Orl. [Aside.] He shall live to see thee hang’d first.
Enter Hippolito.
Mat. Gods so, my lord, your lordship is most welcome, I ’m proud of this, my lord. Hip. Was bold to see you. Is that your wife? Mat. Yes, sir. Hip. I ’ll borrow her lip.175 [Kisses Bellafront.] Mat. With all my heart, my lord. Orl. Who ’s this, I pray, sir. Mat. My Lord Hippolito: what ’s thy name? Orl. Pacheco. Mat. Pacheco, fine name: thou seest, Pacheco, I keep company with no scoundrels, nor base fellows.180 Hip. Came not my footman to you? Bell. Yes, my lord. Hip. I sent by him a diamond and a letter, Did you receive them? Bell. Yes, my lord, I did. Hip. Read you the letter? Bell. O’er and o’er ’t is read. Hip. And, faith, your answer? Bell. Now the time’s not fit,185 You see, my husband’s here. Hip. I’ll now then leave you, And choose mine hour; but ere I part away, Hark you, remember I must have no nay.— Matheo, I will leave you. Mat. A glass of wine. Hip. Not now, I’ll visit you at other times. You’re come off well, then?191
Mat. Excellent well, I thank your lordship. I owe you my life, my lord; and will pay my best blood in any service of yours.
Hip. I ’ll take no such dear payment.195 Hark you, Matheo, I know the prison is a gulf. If money run low with you, my purse is yours: call for it.
Mat. Faith, my lord, I thank my stars, they send me down some; I cannot sink, so long as these bladders hold.201
Hip. I will not see your fortunes ebb; pray, try. To starve in full barns were fond[2496] modesty. Mat. Open the door, sirrah. Hip. Drink this, and anon, I pray thee,205 give thy mistress this.
[Gives to Friscobaldo, who opens the door, first money, then a purse, and] exit.
Orl. O noble spirit, if no worse guests here dwell, My blue coat sits on my old shoulders well.
Mat. The only royal fellow, he’s bounteous as the Indies. What’s that he said to thee,210 Bellafront?
Bell. Nothing.
Mat. I prithee, good girl.
Bell. Why, I tell you, nothing.
Mat. Nothing? It’s well. Tricks! that I215 must be beholden to a scald hot-liver’d goatish gallant, to stand with my cap in my hand, and vail[2497] bonnet, when I ha’ spread as lofty sails as himself. Would I had been hanged. Nothing? Pacheco, brush my cloak.220
Orl. Where is’t, sir?
Mat. Come, we’ll fly high. Nothing? There’s a whore still in thy eye. Exit. Orl. [Aside.] My twenty pounds fly high. O wretched woman!224 This varlet’s able to make Lucrece common.— How now, mistress? Has my master dy’d you into this sad colour? Bell. Fellow, begone I pray thee; if thy tongue Itch after talk so much, seek out thy master. Thou’rt a fit instrument for him.230 Orl. Zounds, I hope he will not play upon me! Bell. Play on thee? No, you two will fly together. Because you’re roving arrows of one feather. Would thou wouldst leave my house; thou ne’er shalt please me! Weave thy nets ne’er so high,235 Thou shalt be but a spider in mine eye. Thou’rt rank with poison: poison temper’d well Is food for health; but thy black tongue doth swell With venom, to hurt him that gave thee bread. To wrong men absent, is to spurn the dead;240 And so did’st thou thy master, and my father.
Orl. You have small reason to take his part; for I have heard him say five hundred times, you were as arrant a whore as ever stiff’ned tiffany neckcloths in water-starch upon a246 Saturday i’ th’ afternoon.
Bell. Let him say worse. When for the earth’s offence Hot vengeance through the marble clouds is driven, Is’t fit earth shoot again those darts at heaven?
Orl. And so if your father call you whore250 you’ll not call him old knave.—[Aside.] Friscobaldo, she carries thy mind up and down; she’s thine own flesh, blood, and bone.—Troth, mistress, to tell you true, the fireworks that ran from me upon lines against my good255 old master, your father, were but to try how my young master, your husband, loved such squibs: but it’s well known, I love your father as myself; I’ll ride for him at midnight, run for you by owl-light; I’ll die for him, drudge for you; I’ll fly low, and I’ll fly high,260 as my master says, to do you good, if you’ll forgive me.
Bell. I am not made of marble; I forgive thee.264
Orl. Nay, if you were made of marble, a good stone-cutter might cut you. I hope the twenty pound I delivered to my master is in a sure hand.
Bell. In a sure hand, I warrant thee, for spending.
Orl. I see my young master is a mad-cap,270 and a bonus socius.[2498] I love him well, mistress: yet as well as I love him, I’ll not play the knave with you. Look you, I could cheat you of this purse full of money; but I am an old lad, and I scorn to cony-catch:[2499] yet I ha’ been dog at a cony in my time.275
[Gives purse.]
Bell. A purse? Where hadst it?
Orl. The gentleman that went away whisper’d in mine ear, and charged me to give it you.280
Bell. The Lord Hippolito?
Orl. Yes, if he be a lord, he gave it me.
Bell. ’T is all gold.
Orl. ’T is like so. It may be, he thinks you want money, and therefore bestows his alms286 bravely, like a lord.
Bell. He thinks a silver net can catch the poor: Here’s bait to choke a nun, and turn her whore. Wilt thou be honest to me?290 Orl. As your nails to your fingers, which I think never deceived you. Bell. Thou to this lord shalt go, commend me to him, And tell him this, the town has held out long, Because within’t was rather true than strong; To sell it now were base. Say ’t is no hold295 Built of weak stuff, to be blown up with gold. He shall believe thee by this token, or this; If not, by this. [Giving purse, ring, and letters. Orl. Is this all? Bell. This is all. Orl. [Aside.] Mine own girl still! Bell. A star may shoot, not fall. Exit.
Orl. A star? nay, thou art more than the300 moon, for thou hast neither changing quarters, nor a man standing in thy circle with a bush of thorns. Is’t possible the Lord Hippolito, whose face is as civil as the outside of a dedicatory book, should be a muttonmonger?[2500] A305 poor man has but one ewe, and this grandee sheep-biter leaves whole flocks of fat wethers, whom he may knock down, to devour this. I’ll trust neither lord nor butcher with quick flesh for this trick; the cuckoo, I see now,310 sings all the year, though every man cannot hear him; but I ’ll spoil his notes. Can neither love-letters, nor the devil’s common pick-locks, gold, nor precious stones make my girl draw up her percullis?[2501] Hold out still, wench.315 All are not bawds, I see now, that keep doors, Nor all good wenches that are markt for whores.
[Exit.