Act 1 — [Scene II.][2272]

[Scene II.][2272]

Enter Fustigo in some fantastic Sea-suit at one door, a Porter meets him at another.

Fus. How now, porter, will she come?

Por. If I may trust a woman, sir, she will come.

Fus. There ’s for thy pains [gives money]. Godamercy, if I ever stand in need of a wench that will come with a wet finger,[2273] porter, thou5 shalt earn my money before any clarissimo[2274] in Milan; yet, so God sa’[2275] me, she ’s mine own sister, body and soul, as I am a Christian gentleman. Farewell; I ’ll ponder till she come. Thou hast been no bawd in fetching this woman. I10 assure thee.

Por. No matter if I had, sir; better men than porters are bawds.

Fus. O God, sir, many that have borne offices. But, porter, art sure thou went’st into15 a true[2276] house?

Por. I think so, for I met with no thieves.

Fus. Nay, but art sure it was my sister Viola?

Por. I am sure, by all superscriptions, it was the party you ciphered.20

Fus. Not very tall?

Por. Nor very low; a middling woman.

Fus. ’T was she, ’faith ’t was she. A pretty plump cheek, like mine?24

Por. At a blush,[2277] a little very much like you.

Fus. Godso, I would not for a ducat she had kickt up her heels, for I ha’ spent an abomination this voyage; marry, I did it amongst sailors and gentlemen. There ’s a little modicum more, porter, for making thee stay [gives30 money]; farewell, honest porter.

Por. I am in your debt, sir; God preserve you.

Exit.

Enter Viola.

Fus. Not so, neither, good porter. God’s lid, yonder she comes. Sister Viola, I am glad to35 see you stirring: it ’s news to have me here, is ’t not, sister?

Vio. Yes, trust me. I wond’red who should be so bold to send for me. You ’re welcome to Milan, brother.

Fus. Troth, sister, I heard you were married41 to a very rich chuff,[2278] and I was very sorry for it, that I had no better clothes, and that made me send; for you know we Milaners love to strut upon Spanish leather. And how do all our friends?46

Vio. Very well. You ha’ travelled enough now, I trow, to sow your wild oats.

Fus. A pox on ’em! wild oats? I ha’ not an oat to throw at a horse. Troth, sister, I ha’ sowed my oats, and reapt two hundred ducats51 if I had ’em here. Marry, I must entreat you to lend me some thirty or forty till the ship come. By this hand, I ’ll discharge at my day, by this hand.55

Vio. These are your old oaths.

Fus. Why, sister, do you think I ’ll forswear my hand?

Vio. Well, well, you shall have them. Put yourself into better fashion, because I must employ you in a serious matter.61

Fus. I ’ll sweat like a horse if I like the matter.

Vio. You ha’ cast off all your old swaggering humours?

Fus. I had not sail’d a league in that great66 fishpond, the sea, but I cast up my very gall.

Vio. I am the more sorry, for I must employ a true swaggerer.

Fus. Nay by this iron, sister, they shall find I am powder and touch-box, if they put fire71 once into me.

Vio. Then lend me your ears.

Fus. Mine ears are yours, dear sister.

Vio. I am married to a man that has wealth enough, and wit enough.76

Fus. A linen-draper, I was told, sister.

Vio. Very true, a grave citizen; I want nothing that a wife can wish from a husband, but here ’s the spite, he has not all things belonging to a man.81

Fus. God’s my life, he ’s a very mandrake,[2279] or else (God bless us) one a’ these whiblins,[2280] and that ’s worse, and then all the children that he gets lawfully of your body, sister, are bastards by a statute.86

Vio. O, you run over me too fast, brother; I have heard it often said, that he who cannot be angry is no man. I am sure my husband is a man in print,[2281] for all things else save only in this, no tempest can move him.91

Fus. ’Slid, would he had been at sea with us! he should ha’ been mov’d, and mov’d again, for I ’ll be sworn, la, our drunken ship reel’d like a Dutchman.

Vio. No loss of goods can increase in him96 a wrinkle, no crabbed language make his countenance sour, the stubbornness of no servant shake him; he has no more gall in him than a dove, no more sting than an ant; musician100 will he never be, yet I find much music in him, but he loves no frets,[2282] and is so free from anger, that many times I am ready to bite off my tongue, because it wants that virtue which all women’s tongues have, to anger their husbands. Brother, mine can by no thunder turn him106 into a sharpness.

Fus. Belike his blood, sister, is well brew’d then.109

Vio. I protest to thee, Fustigo, I love him most affectionately: but I know not—I ha’ such a tickling within me—such a strange longing; nay verily I do long.

Fus. Then you ’re with child, sister, by all signs and tokens; nay, I am partly a physician, and partly something else. I ha’ read Albertus116 Magnus, and Aristotle’s Emblems.

Vio. You ’re wide a’ th’ bow hand[2283] still, brother: my longings are not wanton, but wayward. I long to have my patient husband eat up a whole porcupine, to the intent, the bristling121 quills may stick about his lips like a Flemish mustachio, and be shot at me. I shall be leaner than the new moon, unless I can make him horn-mad.[2284]125

Fus. ’Sfoot, half a quarter of an hour does that; make him a cuckold.

Vio. Pooh, he would count such a cut no unkindness.129

Fus. The honester citizen he; then make him drunk and cut off his beard.

Vio. Fie, fie, idle, idle! He ’s no Frenchman, to fret at the loss of a little scald[2285] hair. No, brother, thus it shall be—you must be secret.

Fus. As your mid-wife, I protest, sister, or a barber-surgeon.136

Vio. Repair to the Tortoise here in St. Christopher’s Street; I will send you money; turn yourself into a brave[2286] man: instead of the arms of your mistress, let your sword and your140 military scarf hang about your neck.

Fus. I must have a great horseman’s French feather too, sister.

Vio. O, by any means, to show your light head, else your hat will sit like a coxcomb.145 To be brief, you must be in all points a most terribly wide-mouth’d swaggerer.

Fus. Nay, for swaggering points let me alone.

Vio. Resort then to our shop, and, in my husband’s presence, kiss me, snatch rings,150 jewels, or any thing, so you give it back again, brother, in secret.

Fus. By this hand, sister.

Vio. Swear as if you came but new from knighting.155

Fus. Nay, I ’ll swear after four hundred a year.

Vio. Swagger worse than a lieutenant among freshwater soldiers,[2287] call me your love, your ingle,[2288] your cousin, or so; but sister at no160 hand.

Fus. No, no, it shall be cousin, or rather coz; that ’s the gulling word between the citizens’ wives and their mad-caps that man[2289] ’em to the garden; to call you one a’ mine aunts,’[2290] sister,165 were as good as call you arrant whore; no, no, let me alone to cousin you rarely.

Vio. H ’as heard I have a brother, but never saw him, therefore put on a good face.

Fus. The best in Milan, I warrant.170

Vio. Take up wares, but pay nothing, rifle my bosom, my pocket, my purse, the boxes for money to dice withal; but, brother, you must give all back again in secret.174

Fus. By this welkin that here roars I will, or else let me never know what a secret is: why, sister, do you think I ’ll cony-catch[2291] you, when you are my cousin? God’s my life, then I were a stark ass. If I fret not his guts, beg me for a fool.[2292]180

Vio. Be circumspect, and do so then. Farewell.

Fus. The Tortoise, sister! I ’ll stay there; forty ducats.

Exit.