ACT IV.

SCENE I.

Room in Sir Hubert Subboys’ house.

Enter Sir Hubert Subboys, Sir Lionel Freevill, Crispinella; servants with lights.

Sir Hub. More lights! Welcome, Sir Lionel Freevill! brother Freevill, shortly. Look to your lights!

Serv. The masquers are at hand.

Sir Lio. Call down our daughter. Hark! they are at hand: rank handsomely.

Enter the Masquers; they dance. Enter Beatrice, Freevill, and Malheureux. Malheureux takes Beatrice from Freevill: they draw.

Free. Know, sir, I have the advantage of the place; You are not safe: I would deal even with you.

Mal. So.

[They exchange gloves as pledges.

Free. So.

Bea. I do beseech you, sweet, do not for me provoke your fortune. 11

Sir Lio. What sudden flaw is risen?

Sir Hub. From whence comes this?

Free. An ulcer, long time lurking, now is burst.

Sir Hub. Good sir, the time and your designs are soft.

Bea. Ay, dear sir, counsel him, advise him; ’twill relish well From your carving. Good my sweet, rest safe.

Free. All’s well! all’s well!—this shall be ended straight.

Sir Hub. The banquet stays;—there we’ll discourse more large.

Free. Marriage must not make men cowards.

Sir Lio. Nor rage fools. 19

Sir Hub. ’Tis valour not where heat but reason rules.

[Exeunt; only Tysefew and Crispinella stay.

Tyse. But do you hear, lady?—you proud ape, you! What was the jest you brake of me even now?

Cris. Nothing. I only said you were all mettle;—that you had a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper beard.

Tyse. Quicksilver,—thou little more than a dwarf, and something less than a woman.

Cris. A wisp! a wisp! a wisp!—will you go to the banquet?

Tyse. By the Lord, I think thou wilt marry shortly too; thou growest somewhat foolish already. 31

Cris. O, i’faith, ’tis a fair thing to be married, and a necessary. To hear this word must! If our husbands be proud, we must bear his contempt; if noisome, we must bear with the goat under his armholes; if a fool, we must bear his bable;[76] and, which is worse, if a loose liver, we must live upon unwholesome reversions; where, on the contrary side, our husbands—because they may, and we must—care not for us. Things hoped with fear, and got with strugglings, are men’s high pleasures, when duty palls and flats their appetite. 41

Tyse. What a tart monkey is this! By heaven! if thou hadst not so much wit, I could find in my heart to marry thee. Faith, bear with me for all this!

Cris. Bear with thee? I wonder how thy mother could bear thee ten months in her belly, when I cannot endure thee two hours in mine eye.

Tyse. Alas, for your sweet soul! By the Lord, you are grown a proud, scurvy, apish, idle, disdainful, scoffing—God’s foot! because you have read Euphues and his England,[77] Palmerin de Oliva,[78] and the Legend of Lies![79] 52

Cris. Why, i’faith, yet, servant, you of all others should bear with my known unmalicious humours: I have always in my heart given you your due respect. And Heaven may be sworn, I have privately given fair speech of you, and protested——

Tyse. Nay, look you; for my own part, if I have not as religiously vow’d my heart to you,—been drunk to your health, swallowed flap-dragons,[80] ate glasses, drunk urine,[81] stabb’d arms,[82] and done all the offices of protested gallantry for your sake; and yet you tell me I have a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper beard! Come, yet, and it please you. 64

Cris. No, no;—you do not love me.

Tyse. By —— but I do now; and whosoever dares say that I do not love you, nay, honour you, and if you would vouchsafe to marry——

Cris. Nay, as for that, think on’t as you will, but God’s my record,—and my sister knows I have taken drink and slept upon’t,—that if ever I marry, it shall be you; and I will marry, and yet I hope I do not say it shall be you neither. 73

Tyse. By Heaven, I shall be as soon weary of health as of your enjoying!—Will you cast a smooth cheek upon me?

Cris. I cannot tell. I have no crump’d shoulders, my back needs no mantle, and yet marriage is honourable. Do you think ye shall prove a cuckold?

Tyse. No, by the Lord, not I! 80

Cris. Why, I thank you, i’faith. Heigho! I slept on my back this morning, and dreamt the strangest dreams. Good Lord! How things will come to pass! Will you go to the banquet?

Tyse. If you will be mine, you shall be your own:—my purse, my body, my heart, is yours,—only be silent in my house, modest at my table, and wanton in my bed;—and the Empress of Europe cannot content, and shall not be contented, better. 89

Cris. Can any kind heart speak more discreetly affectionately? My father’s consent; and as for mine——

Tyse. Then thus, and thus, so Hymen should begin; Sometimes a falling out proves falling in.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Near Sir Hubert Subboys’ house.

Enter Freevill, speaking to some within; Malheureux at the other door.

Free. As you respect my virtue, give me leave To satisfy my reason, though not blood.— So all runs right; our feignèd rage hath ta’en To fullest life: they are much possess’d Of force most, most all quarrel. Now, my right friend, Resolve me with open breast, free and true heart; Cannot thy virtue, having space to think And fortify her weakened powers with reason, Discourses, meditations, discipline, Divine ejaculatories, and all those aids against devils,— Cannot all these curb thy low appetite 11 And sensual fury?

Mal. There is no God in blood, no reason in desire. Shall I but live? Shall I not be forced to act Some deed whose very name is hideous?

Free. No.

Mal. Then I must enjoy Franceschina.

Free. You shall. I’ll lend this ring: show it to that fair devil: It will resolve me dead; Which rumour, with my artificial absence, Will make most firm: enjoy her suddenly. 20

Mal. But if report go strong that you are slain, And that by me,—whereon I may be seized,— Where shall I find your being?

Free. At Master Shatewe’s the jeweller’s, to whose breast I’ll trust our secret purpose.

Mal. Ay, rest yourself; Each man hath follies.

Free. But those worst of all, Who, with a willing eye, do seeing fall.

Mal. ’Tis true, but truth seems folly in madness’ spectacles. I am not now myself, no man: farewell.

Free. Farewell. 30

Mal. When woman’s in the heart, in the soul hell.

[Exit Malheureux.

Free. Now, repentance, the fool’s whip, seize thee; Nay, if there be no means I’ll be thy friend, But not thy vices’; and with greatest sense I’ll force thee feel thy errors to the worst; The wildest of dangers thou shalt sink into. No jeweller shall see me; I will lurk Where none shall know or think; close I’ll withdraw, And leave thee with two friends—a whore and knave; But is this virtue in me? No, not pure, 40 Nothing extremely best with us endures; No use in simple purities; the elements Are mix’d for use; silver without allay[83] Is all too eager[84] to be wrought for use: Nor precise virtues, ever purely good, Holds useful size with temper of weak blood. Then let my course be borne, though with side-wind; The end being good, the means are well assign’d.

[Exit.

SCENE III.

Franceschina’s lodging.

Enter Franceschina melancholy, Cocledemoy leading her.

Coc. Come, catafugo, Frank o’ Frank-hall! who, who ho! Excellent! Ha, here’s a plump-rump’d wench, with a breast softer than a courtier’s tongue, an old lady’s gums, or an old man’s mentula. My fine rogue——

Fra. Pah, you poltroon!

Coc. Goody fist,[85] flumpum pumpum; ah, my fine wag-tail, thou art as false, as prostituted, and adulterate as some translated manuscript. Buss, fair whore, buss!

Fra. God’s sacrament, pox! 10

Coc. Hadamoy key, dost thou frown, medianthon teukey? Nay, look here. Numeron key, silver blithefor cany, os cany goblet: us key ne moy blegefoy oteeston pox, on you gosling!

Fra. By me fait, dis bin very fine langage; ick sall bush ye now; ha, be garzon, vare had you dat plate?

Coc. Hedemoy key, get you gone, punk rampant, key, common up-tail!

Enter Mary Faugh in haste.

Mar. O daughter, cousin, niece, servant, mistress!

Coc. Humpum, plumpum squat, I am gone. 20

[Exit Cocledemoy.

Mar. There is one Master Malheureux at the door desires to see you. He says he must not be denied, for he hath sent this ring; and withal says ’tis done.

Fra. Vat sall me do now, God’s sacrament! Tell him two hours hence he sall be most affectionately velcome; tell him (vat sall me do?), tel him ick am bin in my bate, and ick sall perfume my feets, mak a mine body so delicate for his arm, two hours hence.

Mar. I shall satisfy him: two hours hence, well. 29

[Exit Mary.

Fra. Now ick sall revange; hay, begar, me sal tartar de whole generation! Mine brain vork it. Freevill is dead, Malheureux sall hang; and mine rival, Beatrice, ick sall make run mad.

Enter Mary Faugh.

Mar. He’s gone, forsooth, to eat a caudle of cock-stones, and will return within this two hours.

Fra. Verie vel, give monies to some fellow to squire me; ick sal go abroad.

Mar. There’s a lusty bravo beneath, a stranger, but a good stale[86] rascal. He swears valiantly, kicks a bawd right virtuously, and protests with an empty pocket right desperately. He’ll squire you. 41

Fra. Very velcom; mine fan; ick sall retorn presantly. Now sal me be revange; ten tousant devla! der sall be no got in me but passion, no tought but rage, no mercy but bloud, no spirit but divla in me. Dere sal noting tought good for me, but dat is mischievous for others.

[Exit.

SCENE IV.

Room in Sir Hubert Subboys’ house.

Enter Sir Hubert, Sir Lionel, Beatrice, Crispinella, and Nurse, Tysefew following.

Sir Lio. Did no one see him since?—pray God!—nay, all is well. A little heat; what? he is but withdrawn; And yet I would to God!—but fear you nothing.

Bea. Pray God that all be well, or would I were not!

Tyse. He’s not to be found, sir, anywhere.

Sir Lio. You must not make a heavy face presage an ill event. I like your sister well, she’s quick and lively: would she would marry, faith.

Cri. Marry, nay and I would marry, methinks an old man’s a quiet thing. 10

Sir Lio. Ha, mass! and so he is.

Cri. You are a widower?

Sir Lio. That I am, i’faith, fair Crisp; and I can tell you, would you affect me, I have it in me yet, i’faith.

Cri. Troth I am in love; let me see your hand: would you cast yourself away upon me willingly?

Sir Lio. Will I? Ay, by the——

Cri. Would you be a cuckold willingly? By my troth ’tis a comely, fine, and handsome sight, for one of my years to marry an old man; truth, ’tis restorative; what a comfortable thing it is to think of her husband, to hear his venerable cough o’ the everlastings, to feel his rough skin, his summer hands and winter legs, his almost no eyes, and assuredly no teeth; and then to think what she must dream of, when she considers others’ happiness and her own want! ’tis a worthy and notorious comfortable match. 27

Sir Lio. Pish, pish! will you have me?

Cri. Will you assure me——

Sir Lio. Five hundred pound jointure?

Cri. That you will die within this fortnight?

Sir Lio. No, by my faith, Cris.

Cri. Then Crisp by her faith assures you she’ll have none of you.

Enter Young Freevill disguised like a pander, and Franceschina.

Free. By’r leave, gentles and men of nightcaps, I would speak, but that here stands one is able to express her own tale best.

Fra. Sir, mine speech is to you; you had a son, matre Freevill?

Sir Lio. Had, ha! and have. 40

Fra. No point,[87] me am come to assure you dat one mestre Malheureux hath killed him.

Bea. O me! wretched, wretched!

Sir Hub. Look to our daughter.

Sir Lio. How art thou inform’d?

Fra. If dat it please you to go vid me, ick sall bring you where you sall hear Malheureux vid his own lips confess it, and dare ye may apprehend him, and revenge your and mine love’s blood.

Sir Hub. Your love’s blood! mistress, was he your love? 51

Fra. He was so, sir; let your daughter hear it: do not veep, lady; de young man dat be slain did not love you, for he still lovit me ten tousant tousant times more dearly.

Bea. O my heart, I will love you the better; I cannot hate what he affected. O passion, O my grief! which way wilt break, think, and consume!

Cri. Peace!

Bea. Dear woes cannot speak. 60

Fra. For look you, lady, dis your ring he gave me, vid most bitter jests at your scorn’d kindness.

Bea. He did not ill not to love me, but sure he did not well to mock me: gentle minds will pity, though they cannot love; yet peace and my love sleep with him. Unlace, good nurse; alas! I was not so ambitious of so supreme an happiness, that he should only love me; ’twas joy enough for me, poor soul, that I only might only love him.

Fra. O but to be abused, scorn’d, scoff’d at! O ten tousand divla, by such a one, and unto such a one! 71

Bea. I think you say not true, sister; shall we know one another in the other world?

Cri. What means my sister?

Bea. I would fain see him again! O my tortured mind! Freevill is more than dead, he is unkind!

[Exeunt Beatrice, Crispinella, and Nurse.

Sir Hub. Convey her in, and so, sir, as you said, Set a strong watch.

Sir Lio. Ay, sir, and so pass along with this same common woman; you must make it good. 80

Fra. Ick sall, or let me pay for his mine bloud.

Sir Hub. Come, then, along all, with quiet speed.

Sir Lio. O fate!

Tyse. O sir, be wisely sorry, but not passionate.

[Exeunt all but Young Freevill.

Free. I will go and reveal myself! stay, no, no; Grief endears love. Heaven! to have such a wife Is happiness to breed pale envy in the saints. Thou worthy dove-like virgin without gall, Cannot (that woman’s evil) jealousy, Despite disgrace, nay, which is worse, contempt, 90 Once stir thy faith? O truth, how few sisters hast thou! Dear memory! With what a suffering sweetness, quiet modesty, Yet deep affection, she received my death! And then with what a patient, yet oppressed kindness, She took my lewdly intimated wrongs! O the dearest of heaven! were there but three Such women in the world, two might be saved. Well, I am great With expectation to what devilish end 100 This woman of foul soul will drive her plots; But Providence all wicked art o’ertops; And impudence must know (tho’ stiff as ice), That fortune doth not always dote on vice.

[Exit.

SCENE V.

A Street.

Enter Sir Hubert, Sir Lionel, Tysefew, Franceschina, and three with halberds.

Sir Hub. Plant a watch there! be very careful, sirs; the rest with us.

Tyse. The heavy night grows to her depth of quiet; ’Tis about mid-darkness.

Fra. Mine shambre is hard by; ick sall bring you to it presantment.

Sir Lio. Deep silence! On!

[Exeunt.

Coc. (within). Wa, ha, ho!

Enter Mulligrub.

Mul. It was his voice, ’tis he: he sups with his cupping-glasses. ’Tis late; he must pass this way: I’ll ha’ him—I’ll ha’ my fine boy, my worshipful Cocledemoy; I’ll moy him; he shall be hang’d in lousy linen; I’ll hire some sectary to make him an heretic before he die; and when he is dead I’ll piss on his grave. 15

Enter Cocledemoy.

Coc. Ah, my fine punks, good night, Frank Frailty, Frail o’ Frail-hall! Bonus noches, my ubiquitari.

Mul. Ware polling and shaving, sir.

Coc. A wolf, a wolf, a wolf!

[Exit Cocledemoy, leaving his cloak behind him.

Mul. Here’s something yet, a cloak, a cloak! Yet I’ll after; he cannot ’scape the watch; I’ll hang him if I have any mercy. I’ll slice him.

[Exit.

Enter three Constables; to them Cocledemoy.

1st Con. Who goes there? Come before the constable. 24

Coc. Bread o’ God! constable, you are a watch for the devil. Honest men are robb’d under your nose; there’s a false knave in the habit of a vintner set upon me; he would have had my purse, but I took me to my heels: yet he got my cloak, a plain stuff cloak, poor, yet ’twill serve to hang him. ’Tis my loss, poor man that I am! 31

[Exit.

Enter Mulligrub running with Cocledemoy’s cloak.

2d Con. Masters, we must watch better; is’t not strange that knaves, drunkards, and thieves should be abroad, and yet we of the watch, scriveners, smiths, and tailors, never stir?

1st Con. Hark, who goes there?

Mul. An honest man and a citizen.

2d Con. Appear, appear; what are you?

Mul. A simple vintner.

1st Con. A vintner ha! and simple; draw nearer, nearer; here’s the cloak. 41

2d Con. Ay, Master Vintner, we know you: a plain stuff cloak; ’tis it.

1st Con. Right, come! O thou varlet, dost not thou know that the wicked cannot ’scape the eyes of the constable?

Mul. What means this violence? As I am an honest man I took the cloak——

1st Con. As you are a knave, you took the cloak, we are your witnesses for that. 50

Mul. But, hear me, hear me! I’ll tell you what I am.

2d Con. A thief you are.

Mul. I tell you my name is Mulligrub.

1st Con. I will grub you. In with him to the stocks; there let him sit till to-morrow morning, that Justice Quodlibet may examine him.

Mul. Why, but I tell thee——

2d Con. Why, but I tell thee, we’ll tell thee now.

Mul. Am I not mad? am I not an ass? Why, scabs, God’s-foot! let me out. 60

2d Con. Ay, ay, let him prate; he shall find matter in us scabs, I warrant: God’s-so, what good members of the commonwealth do we prove!

1st Con. Prithee, peace; let’s remember our duties, and let’s[88] go sleep, in the fear of God.

[Exeunt, having left Mulligrub in the stocks.

Mul. Who goes there? Illo, ho, ho: zounds, shall I run mad—lose my wits! Shall I be hang’d? Hark; who goes there? Do not fear to be poor, Mulligrub; thou hast a sure stock now.

Re-enter Cocledemoy like a bellman.

Coc. The night grows old, 70 And many a cuckold Is now—Wha, ha, ha, ho! Maids on their backs Dream of sweet smacks, And warm—Wo, ho, ho, ho!

I must go comfort my venerable Mulligrub, I must fiddle him till he fist.[89] Fough!

Maids in your night-rails, Look well to your light— Keep close your locks, 80 And down your smocks; Keep a broad eye, And a close thigh.

Excellent, excellent! Who’s there? Now, Lord, Lord—Master Mulligrub—deliver us! what does your worship in the stocks? I pray come out, sir.

Mul. Zounds, man, I tell thee I am lock’d!

Coc. Lock’d! O world! O men! O time! O night! that canst not discern virtue and wisdom, and one of the common council! What is your worship in for? 90

Mul. For (a plague on’t) suspicion of felony.

Coc. Nay, and it be such a trifle, Lord, I could weep, to see your good worship in this taking. Your worship has been a good friend to me, and tho’ you have forgot me, yet I knew your wife before she was married, and since I have found your worship’s door open, and I have knock’d, and God knows what I have saved: and do I live to see your worship stocked?

Mul. Honest bellman, I perceive Thou knowest me: I prithee call the watch. 100 Inform the constable of my reputation, That I may no longer abide in this shameful habitation, And hold thee all I have about me.

[Gives him his purse.

Coc. ’Tis more than I deserve, sir: let me alone for your delivery.

Mul. Do, and then let me alone with Cocledemoy. I’ll moy him!

Re-enter the Constables.

Coc. Maids in your—— Master Constable, whose that ith’ stocks?

1st Con. One for a robbery: one Mulligrub, he calls himself. Mulligrub? Bellman, knowest thou him? 111

Coc. Know him! O, Master Constable, what good service have you done! Know him? He’s a strong thief; his house has been suspected for a bawdy tavern a great while, and a receipt for cut-purses, ’tis most certain. He has been long in the black book, and is he ta’en now?

2d Con. By’r lady, my masters, we’ll not trust the stocks with him, we’ll have him to the justices, get a mittimus to Newgate presently. Come, sir, come on, sir. 121

Mul. Ha! does your rascalship yet know my worship in the end?

1st Con. Ay, the end of your worship we know.

Mul. Ha! goodman constable, here’s an honest fellow can tell you what I am?

2d Con. ’Tis true, sir; y’are a strong thief, he says, on his own knowledge. Bind fast, bind fast! we know you. We’ll trust no stocks with you. Away with him to the jail instantly. 130

Mul. Why, but dost hear? Bellman, rogue, rascal! God’s—why, but—

[The Constables drag away Mulligrub.

Coc. Why, but! wha, ha, ha! excellent, excellent! ha, my fine Cocledemoy, my vintner fists. I’ll make him fart crackers before I ha’ done with him; to-morrow is the day of judgment. Afore the Lord God, my knavery grows unperegall;[90] ’tis time to take a nap, until half an hour hence. God give your worship music, content, and rest.

[Exit.