Part 2 / Act 1 — ACT I. SCENE I.

An Apartment in the House of the Lord Governor: a banquet set out.

Enter Sebastian and Fernando.

Seb. My three years spent in war has now undone

My peace for ever.

Fer. Good, be patient, sir.

Seb. She is my wife by contract before heaven

And all the angels, sir.

Fer. I do believe you;

But where’s the remedy now? you see she’s gone,

Another has possession.

Seb. There’s the torment!

Fer. This day, being the first of your return,

Unluckily proves the first too of her fastening.

Her uncle, sir, the governor of Ravenna,

Holding a good opinion of the bridegroom,

As he’s fair-spoken, sir, and wondrous mild——

Seb. There goes the devil in a sheep-skin!

Fer. With all speed

Clapp’d it up suddenly: I cannot think, sure,

That the maid over-loves him; though being married,

Perhaps, for her own credit, now she intends

Performance of an honest, duteous wife.

252Seb. Sir, I’ve a world of business: question nothing;

You will but lose your labour; ’tis not fit

For any, hardly mine own secrecy,

To know what I intend. I take my leave, sir.

I find such strange employments in myself,

That unless death pity me and lay me down,

I shall not sleep these seven years; that’s the least, sir.

[Exit.

Fer. That sorrow’s dangerous can abide no counsel;

’Tis like a wound past cure: wrongs done to love

Strike the heart deeply; none can truly judge on’t

But the poor sensible sufferer whom it racks

With unbelieved pains, which men in health,

That enjoy love, not possibly can act,

Nay, not so much as think. In troth, I pity him:

His sighs drink life-blood in this time of feasting.

A banquet towards^[466] too! not yet hath riot

Play’d out her last scene? at such entertainments still

Forgetfulness obeys, and surfeit governs:

Here’s marriage sweetly honour’d in gorg’d stomachs

And overflowing cups!

Enter Gasparo and Servant.

Gas. Where is she, sirrah?

Ser. Not far off.

253Gas. Prithee, where? go fetch her hither:

I’ll rid him away straight.— [Exit Servant.

The duke’s^[467] now risen, sir.

Fer. I am a joyful man to hear it, sir,

It seems has drunk the less; though I think he

That has the least has certainly enough. [Exit.

Gas. I have observ’d this fellow: all the feast-time

He hath not pledg’d one cup, but look’d most wickedly

Upon good Malaga; flies to the black-jack still,

And sticks to small drink like a water-rat.

O, here she comes:

Enter Florida.

Alas, the poor whore weeps!

’Tis not for grace now, all the world must judge;

It is for spleen and madness 'gainst this marriage:

I do but think how she could beat the vicar now,

Scratch the man horribly that gave the woman,

The woman worst of all, if she durst do it. [Aside.

Why, how now, mistress? this weeping needs not; for though

My master marry for his reputation,

He means to keep you too.

Flo. How, sir?

Gas. He doth indeed;

He swore’t to me last night. Are you so simple,

And have been five years traded, as to think

One woman would serve him? fie, not an empress!

Why, he’ll be sick o’ th’ wife within ten nights,

Or never trust my judgment.

Flo. Will he, think’st thou?

Gas. Will he!

Flo. I find thee still so comfortable,

254Beshrew my heart, if I know^[468] how to miss thee:

They talk of gentlemen, perfumers, and such things;

Give me the kindness of the master’s man

In my distress, say I.

Gas. ’Tis your great love, forsooth.

Please you withdraw yourself to yond private parlour;

I’ll send you venison, custard, parsnip-pie;

For banqueting stuff, as suckets,^[469] jellies, sirups,

I will bring in myself.

Flo. I’ll take 'em kindly, sir. [Exit.

Gas. Sh’as your grand strumpet’s complement to a tittle.

’Tis a fair building: it had need; it has

Just at this time some one and twenty inmates;

But half of 'em are young merchants, they’ll depart shortly;

They take but rooms for summer, and away they

When’t grows foul weather: marry, then come the termers,^[470]

And commonly they’re well-booted for all seasons.

But peace, no word; the guests are coming in. [Retires.

Enter Almachildes and Amoretta.

Alm. The fates have bless’d me; have I met you privately?

Am. Why, sir, why, Almachildes!——

Alm. Not a kiss?

Am. I’ll call aloud, i’faith.

Alm. I’ll stop your mouth.

Am. Upon my love to reputation,

I’ll tell the duchess once more.

255Alm. ’Tis the way

To make her laugh a little.

Am. She’ll not think

That you dare use a maid of honour thus.

Alm. Amsterdam^[471] swallow thee for a puritan,

And Geneva cast thee up again! like she that sunk^[472]

At Charing Cross, and rose again at Queenhithe!

Am. Ay, these are the silly fruits of the sweet vine, sir. [Retires.

Alm. Sweet venery be with thee, and I at the tail

Of my wish! I am a little headstrong, and so

Are most of the company. I will to the witches.

They say they have charms^[473] and tricks to make

A wench fall backwards, and lead a man herself

To a country-house,^[474] some mile out of the town,

Like a fire-drake. There be such whoreson kind girls

And such bawdy witches; and I’ll try conclusions.^[475]

256Enter Duke, Duchess, Lord Governor, Antonio, Isabella, and Francisca.

Duke. A banquet^[476] yet! why surely, my lord governor,

Bacchus could ne’er boast of a day till now,

To spread his power, and make his glory known.

Duch. Sir, you’ve done nobly; though in modesty

You keep it from us, know, we understand so much,

All this day’s cost ’tis your great love bestows,

In honour of the bride, your virtuous neice.

Gov. In love to goodness and your presence, madam;

So understood, ’tis rightly.

Duke. Now will I

Have a strange health after all these.

Gov. What’s that, my lord?

Duke. A health in a strange cup; and 't shall go round.

Gov. Your grace need not doubt that, sir, having seen

So many pledg’d already: this fair company

Cannot shrink now for one, so it end there.

Duke. It shall, for all ends here: here’s a full period.

[Produces a skull set as a cup.

Gov. A skull, my lord?

Duke. Call it a soldier’s cup, man:

Fie, how you fright the women! I have sworn

It shall go round, excepting only you, sir,

For your late sickness, and the bride herself,

Whose health it is.

Isa. Marry, I thank heaven for that!

Duke. Our duchess, I know, will pledge us, though the cup

257Was once her father’s head, which, as a trophy,

We’ll keep till death in memory of that conquest.

He was the greatest foe our steel e’er strook at,

And he was bravely slain: then took we thee

Into our bosom’s love: thou mad’st the peace

For all thy country, thou, that beauty, did.

We’re dearer than a father, are we not?

Duch. Yes, sir, by much.

Duke. And we shall find that straight.

Ant. That’s an ill bride-cup for a marriage-day,

I do not like the face on’t.

Gov. Good my lord,

The duchess looks pale: let her not pledge you there.

Duke. Pale?

Duch. Sir, not I.

Duke. See how your lordship fails now;

The rose not fresher, nor the sun at rising

More comfortably pleasing.

Duch. Sir, to you,

The lord of this day’s honour. [Drinks.

Ant. All first moving

From your grace, madam, and the duke’s great favour,

Since it must. [Drinks.

Fran. This the worst fright that could come

To a conceal’d great belly! I’m with child;

And this will bring it out, or make me come

Some seven weeks sooner than we maidens reckon.

[Aside.

Duch. Did ever cruel barbarous art match this?

Twice have^[477] his surfeits brought my father’s memory

Thus spitefully and scornfully to mine eyes;

258And I’ll endure’t no more; ’tis in my heart since:

I’ll be reveng’d as far as death can lead one.

[Aside.

Alm. Am I the last man, then? I may deserve

To be first one day. [Drinks.

Gov. Sir, it has gone round now.

Duke. The round?^[478] an excellent way to train up soldiers!

Where’s bride and bridegroom?

Ant. At your happy service.

Duke. A boy to-night, at least; I charge you look to’t,

Or I’ll renounce you for industrious subjects.

Ant. Your grace speaks like a worthy and tried soldier.

Gas. And you’ll do well for one that ne’er toss’d pike, sir. [Exeunt.