Act 4 — SCENE IV.
Reading edition
A Hall in Harebrain’s House.
Knocking within;[864] enter a Servant.
Ser. Who’s that knocks?
Pen. B. [within] A friend.
[Servant opens the door.
Enter Penitent Brothel.
Ser. What’s your will, sir?
395Pen. B. Is master Harebrain[865] at home?
Ser. No, newly gone from it, sir.
Pen. B. Where’s the gentlewoman his wife?
Ser. My mistress is within, sir.
Pen. B. When came she in, I pray?
Ser. Who, my mistress? she was not out these two days, to my knowledge.
Pen. B. No? trust me, I’d thought I’d seen her. I would request a word with her.
Ser. I’ll tell her, sir.
Pen. B. I thank you. [Exit Servant.] It likes me[866] worse and worse.
Enter Mistress Harebrain.
Mis. H. Why, how now, sir? ’twas desperately adventur’d;
I little look’d for you until the morrow.
Pen. B. No?
Why what made you at my chamber then even now?
Mis. H. I at your chamber?
Pen. B. Pooh, dissemble not;
Come, come, you were there.
Mis. H. By my life, you wrong me, sir!
Pen. B. What?
Mis. H. First, you’re not ignorant what watch keeps o’er me;
And for your chamber, as I live, I know’t not.
Pen. B. Burst into sorrow then, and grief’s extremes,
Whilst I beat on this flesh!
Mis. H. What is’t disturbs you, sir?
396Pen. B. Then was the devil in your likeness there.
Mis. H. Ha!
Pen. B. The very devil assum’d thee formally;[867]
That face, that voice, that gesture, that attire,
E’en as it sits on thee, not a plait alter’d;
That beaver band, the colour of that periwig,[868]
The farthingale above the navel; all
As if the fashion were his own invention.
Mis. H. Mercy, defend me!
Pen. B. To beguile me more,
The cunning Succubus told me that meeting
Was wrought ’a purpose by much wit and art;
Wept to me; laid my vows before me; urg’d me;
Gave me the private marks of all our love;
Woo’d me in wanton and effeminate rhymes,
And sung and danc’d about me like a fairy:
And had not worthier cogitations blest me,
Thy form, and his enchantments, had possess’d me.
Mis. H. What shall become of me? my own thoughts doom me.
Pen. B. Be honest, then the devil will ne’er assume thee:
He has no pleasure in that shape t’ abide
Where these two sisters reign not, lust or pride;
He as much trembles at a constant mind
As looser flesh at him: be not dismay’d;
Spring, souls, for joy! his policies are betray’d!
Forgive me, mistress Harebrain, on whose soul
The guilt hangs double,
My lust, and thy enticement! both I challenge;
And therefore of due vengeance it appear’d
To none but me, to whom both sins inher’d.
397What knows the lecher, when he clips[869] his whore,
Whether it be the devil his parts adore?
They’re both so like, that, in our natural sense,
I could discern no change nor difference.
No marvel, then, times should so stretch and turn;
None for religion, all for pleasure burn.
Hot zeal into hot lust is now transform’d;
Grace into painting, charity into clothes;
Faith into false hair, and put off as often.
There’s nothing but our virtue knows a mean:
He that kept open house, now keeps a quean.
He will keep open still, that he commends;
And there he keeps a table for his friends:
And she consumes more than his[870] sire could hoard,
Being more common than his house or board.
Enter Harebrain behind.
Live honest, and live happy, keep thy vows;
She’s part a virgin whom but one man knows:
Embrace thy husband, and beside him none;
Having but one heart, give it but to one.
Mis. H. I vow it on my knees, with tears true-bred,
No man shall ever wrong my husband’s bed!
Pen. B. Rise; I’m thy friend for ever.
Har. [coming forward] And I thine
For ever and ever!—Let me embrace thee, sir,
Whom I will love even next unto my soul,
And that’s my wife.
Two dear rare gems this hour presents me with,
A wife that’s modest, and a friend that’s right:
Idle suspect and fear, now take your flight!
Pen. B. A happy inward peace crown both your joys!
398Har. Thanks above utterance to you!—
Enter Servant.
Now, the news?
Ser. Sir Bounteous Progress, sir,
Invites you and my mistress to a feast
On Tuesday next; his man attends without.
Har. Return both with our willingness and thanks.—
[Exit Servant.
I will entreat you, sir, to be my guest.
Pen. B. Who, I, sir?
Har. Faith, you shall.
Pen. B. Well, I’ll break strife.
Har. A friend’s so rare, I’ll sooner part from life.
[Exeunt.