Act 3 — [Scene II.][2563]
Reading edition
[Scene II.][2563]
Enter the Duke, Lodovico, and Orlando [disguised as a Serving-man]; after them Infelice, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, and Fontinell.
Orl. I beseech your grace, though your eye be so piercing as under a poor blue coat to cull out an honest father from an old serving-man, yet, good my lord, discover not the plot to any, but only this gentleman that is now to be an5 actor in our ensuing comedy.
Duke. Thou hast thy wish, Orlando, pass unknown, Sforza shall only go along with thee, To see that warrant serv’d upon thy son.
Lod. To attach him upon felony, for two10 pedlars: is ’t not so?
Orl. Right, my noble knight: those pedlars were two knaves of mine; he fleec’d the men before, and now he purposes to flay the master. He will rob me; his teeth water to be nibbling15 at my gold; but this shall hang him by th’ gills, till I pull him on shore.
Duke. Away: ply you the business.
Orl. Thanks to your grace: but, my good lord, for my daughter—20
Duke. You know what I have said.
Orl. And remember what I have sworn. She ’s more honest, on my soul, than one of the Turks’ wenches, watcht by a hundred eunuchs.
Lod. So she had need, for the Turks make25 them whores.
Orl. He ’s a Turk that makes any woman a whore; he ’s no true Christian, I ’m sure. I commit your grace.
Duke. Infelice.30
Inf. Here, sir.
Lod. Signor Friscobaldo.
Orl. Frisking again? Pacheco.
Lod. Uds so, Pacheco! We ’ll have some sport with this warrant: ’t is to apprehend35 all suspected persons in the house. Besides, there ’s one Bots, a pander, and one Madam Horseleech, a bawd, that have abus’d my friend; those two conies will we ferret into the purse-net.[2564]40
Orl. Let me alone for dabbing them o’ th’ neck. Come, come.
Lod. Do ye hear, gallants? Meet me anon at Matheo’s.
All. Enough.45
Exeunt Lodovico and Orlando.
Duke. Th’ old fellow sings that note thou didst before, Only his tunes are, that she is no whore, But that she sent his letters and his gifts, Out of a noble triumph o’er his lust, To show she trampled his assaults in dust.50 Inf. ’T is a good honest servant, that old man. Duke. I doubt no less. Inf. And it may be my husband, Because when once this woman was unmaskt, He levell’d all her thoughts, and made them fit, Now he ’d mar all again, to try his wit.55 Duke. It may be so too, for to turn a harlot Honest, it must be by strong antidotes; ’T is rare, as to see panthers change their spots. And when she ’s once a star fix’d and shines bright, Though ’t were impiety then to dim her light,60 Because we see such tapers seldom burn, Yet ’t is the pride and glory of some men, To change her to a blazing star again, And it may be, Hippolito does no more.— It cannot be but you ’re acquainted all65 With that same madness of our son-in-law, That dotes so on a courtesan. All. Yes, my lord.
Car. All the city thinks he ’s a whoremonger.
Ast. Yet I warrant he ’ll swear no man marks him.70
Ber. ’T is like so, for when a man goes a wenching, is as if he had a strong stinking breath, every one smells him out, yet he feels it not, though it be ranker than the sweat of sixteen bear warders.75
Duke. I doubt then you have all those stinking breaths; You might be all smelt out.
Car. Troth, my lord. I think we are all as you ha’ been in your youth when you went a-maying; we all love to hear the cuckoo sing80 upon other men’s trees.
Duke. It ’s well; yet you confess. But, girl, thy bed Shall not be parted with a courtesan. ’T is strange, No frown of mine, no frown of the poor lady,85 My abus’d child, his wife, no care of fame, Of honour, heaven, or hell, no not that name Of common strumpet, can affright, or woo him To abandon her; the harlot does undo him;89 She has bewitcht him, robb’d him of his shape, Turn’d him into a beast; his reason ’s lost; You see he looks wild, does he not? Car. I ha’ noted New moons in ’s face, my lord, all full of change. Duke. He ’s no more like unto Hippolito Than dead men are to living—never sleeps,95 Or if he do, it ’s dreams: and in those dreams His arms work, and then cries, “Sweet”—what ’s her name. What ’s the drab’s name? Ast. In troth, my lord, I know not, I know no drabs, not I. Duke. Oh, Bellafront!—99 And, catching her fast, cries, “My Bellafront!”
Car. A drench that ’s able to kill a horse, cannot kill this disease of smock-smelling, my lord, if it have once eaten deep.
Duke. I ’ll try all physic, and this medicine first:104 I have directed warrants strong and peremptory To purge our city Milan, and to cure The outward parts, the suburbs, for the attaching Of all those women, who, like gold, want weight: Cities, like ships, should have no idle freight.109
Car. No, my lord, and light wenches are no idle freight; but what ’s your grace’s reach[2565] in this?
Duke. This, Carolo. If she whom my son dotes on, Be in that master-book enroll’d, he ’ll shame Ever t’ approach one of such noted name.115 Car. But say she be not? Duke. Yet on harlots’ heads New laws shall fall so heavy, and such blows Shall give to those that haunt them, that Hippolito If not for fear of law, for love to her, If he love truly, shall her bed forbear.120
Car. Attach all the light heels i’ the city and clap ’em up? Why, my lord, you dive into a well unsearchable: all the whores within the walls, and without the walls? I would not be124 he should meddle with them for ten such dukedoms; the army that you speak on is able to fill all the prisons within this city, and to leave not a drinking-room in any tavern besides.
Duke. Those only shall be caught that are of note; Harlots in each street flow:130 The fish being thus i’ th’ net, ourself will sit, And with eye most severe dispose of it. Come, girl. [Exeunt Duke and Infelice.] Car. Arraign the poor whores! Ast. I ’ll not miss that sessions.135 Font. Nor I. Ber. Nor I, though I hold up my hand there myself. Exeunt.