Act 4 — Scene I.[2735]
Reading edition
Scene I.[2735]
Enter Maquerelle, knocking at the ladies’ door.
Maq. Medam, medam, are you stirring, medam? If you be stirring, medam,—if I thought I should disturb ye—
[Enter Page.]
Page. My lady is up, forsooth.
Maq. A pretty boy, faith: how old art thou?
Page. I think fourteen.6
Maq. Nay, an ye be in the teens—are ye a gentleman born? Do you know me? My name is Medam Maquerelle; I lie in the old Cunny-court.10
Enter Bianca and Emilia.
[Page.] See, here the ladies.
Bian. A fair day to ye, Maquerelle.
Emil. Is the duchess up yet, sentinel?
Maq. O ladies, the most abominable mischance! O dear ladies the most piteous disaster!15 Ferneze was taken last night in the duchess’ chamber. Alas, the duke catcht him and kill’d him!
Bian. Was he found in bed?
Maq. O, no; but the villanous certainty is,20 the door was not bolted, the tongue-tied hatch held his peace: so the naked troth is, he was found in his shirt, whilst I, like an arrant beast, lay in the outward chamber, heard nothing; and yet they came by me in the dark, and25 yet I felt them not, like a senseless creature as I was. O beauties, look to your busk-points;[2736] if not chastely, yet charily: be sure the door be bolted.—Is your lord gone to Florence?
Bian. Yes, Maquerelle.30
Maq. I hope you ’ll find the discretion to purchase a fresh gown ’fore his return.—Now, by my troth, beauties, I would ha’ ye once wise. He loves ye; pish! He is witty; bubble! Fair-proportioned; mew! Nobly-born; wind! Let35 this be still your fixed position: esteem me every man according to his good gifts, and so ye shall ever remain most worthy to be most dear ladies.
Emil. Is the duke returned from hunting yet?40
Maq. They say not yet.
Bian. ’T is now in midst of day.
Emil. How bears the duchess with this blemish now?
Maq. Faith, boldly; strongly defies defame, as one that has a duke to her father. And45 there ’s a note to you: be sure of a stout friend in a corner, that may always awe your husband. Mark the behaviour of the duchess now: she dares defame, cries, “Duke, do what thou canst, I ’ll quit mine honour:” nay, as one50 confirmed in her own virtue against ten thousand mouths that mutter her disgrace, she ’s presently for dances.
Enter Ferrardo.
Bian. For dances!
Maq. Most true.55
Emil. Most strange. See, here ’s my servant,[2737] young Ferrardo. How many servants thinkest thou I have, Maquerelle?[2738]
Maq. The more, the merrier. ’T was well59 said, use your servants as you do your smocks; have many, use one, and change often; for that ’s most sweet and courtlike.
Fer. Save ye, fair ladies! Is the duke return’d?
Bian. Sweet sir, no voice of him as yet in court.
Fer. ’T is very strange.65
Bian. And how like you my servant, Maquerelle?
Maq. I think he could hardly draw Ulysses’ bow; but, by my fidelity, were his nose narrower, his eyes broader, his hands thinner,69 his lips thicker, his legs bigger, his feet lesser, his hair blacker, and his teeth whiter, he were a tolerable sweet youth, i’ faith. And he will come to my chamber, I will read him the fortune of his beard. 74
Cornets sound.
Fer. Not yet return’d! I fear—but the duchess approacheth.