Part 2 / Act 4 — ACT IV. SCENE I.

The rendezvous of the Gipsies,^[923] near Milan.

Enter Andrugio.

And. Now, fortune, shew thyself the friend of love,

Make her way plain and safe; cast all their eyes

That guard the castle

Into a thicker blindness than thine own,

Darker than ignorance or idolatry,

That in that shape my love may pass unknown,

And by her freedom set my comforts free.

This is the place appointed for our meeting,

Yet comes she [not]; I’m covetous of her sight;

That gipsy-habit alters her so far

From knowledge, that our purpose cannot err;

She might have been here now by this time largely,

And much to spare: I would not miss her now

In this plight for the loss of a year’s joy.

She’s ignorant of this house, nor knows she where

Or which way to bestow herself through fear.

Enter Lactantio with a Guard.

Lac. Close with him, gentlemen.—In the duchess’ name

We do attach your body.

604And. How, my body?

What means this rudeness?

Lac. You add to your offences,

Calling that rudeness that is fair command,

Immaculate justice, and the duchess’ pleasure.

And. Signor Lactantio! O, are you the speaker?

Lac. I am what I am made.

And. Shew me my crime.

Lac. I fear you’ll have too many shewn you, sir.

And. The father of untruths possesses thy spirit,

As he commands thy tongue: I defy fear

But in my love, it only settles there.

Lac. Bring him along.

And. Let law’s severest brow

Bend at my deeds, my innocence shall rise

A shame to thee and all my enemies.

Lac. You’re much the happier man.

And. O, my hard crosses!

Grant me the third part of one hour’s stay.

Lac. Sir, not a minute.

And. O, she’s lost!

Lac. Away! [Exeunt.

Enter Aurelia disguised as a Gipsy.

Aur. I’m happily escap’d, not one pursues me;

This shape’s too cunning for 'em; all the sport was,

The porter would needs know his fortune of me

As I pass’d by him: ’twas such a plunge^[924] to me,

I knew not how to bear myself; at last

I did resolve of somewhat, look’d in’s hand,

Then shook my head, bade him make much on’s eyes,

He’d lose his sight clean long before he dies;

605And so^[925] away went I; he lost the sight of me quickly:

I told him his fortune truer for nothing than some

Of my complexion that would have cozen’d him of his money.

This is the place of meeting; where’s this man now

That has took all this care and pains for nothing?

The use of him is at the last cast now,

Shall only bring me to my former face again,

And see me somewhat cleanlier at his cost,

And then farewell, Andrugio; when I’m handsome,

I’m for another straight. I wonder, troth,

That he would miss me thus; I could have took

Many occasions besides this to have left him;

I’m not in want, he need not give me any;

A woman’s will has still enough to spare

To help her friends, and^[926] need be. What, not yet?

What will become of me in this shape then?

If I know where to go, I’m no dissembler;

And I’ll not lose my part in woman^[927] so

For such a trifle, to forswear myself.

But comes he not indeed?

Enter Dondolo.

Don. O excellent! by this light here’s one of them! I thank my stars: I learnt that phrase in the Half-moon tavern. [Aside.]—By your leave, good gipsy;

I pray how far off is your company?

Aur. O happiness! this is the merry fellow

My love, signor Lactantio, takes delight in;

606I’ll send him away speedily with the news

Of my so strange and fortunate escape,

And he’ll provide my safety at an instant. [Aside.

My friend, thou serv’st signor Lactantio?

Don. Who, I serve? gipsy, I scorn your motion;^[928] and if the rest of your company give me no better words, I will hinder 'em the stealing of more pullen^[929] than fifty poulterers were ever worth, and prove a heavier enemy to all their pig-booties; they shall travel like Jews, that hate swine’s flesh, and never get a sow by th’ ear all their lifetime. I serve Lactantio! I scorn to serve any body; I am more gipsy-minded than so: though my face look of a Christian colour, if my belly were ripped up, you shall find my heart as black as any patch about you. The truth is, I am as arrant a thief as the proudest of your company; I’ll except none: I am run away from my master in the state of a fool, and till I be a perfect knave I never mean to return again.

Aur. I’m ne’er the happier for this fortune now;

It did but mock me. [Aside.

Don. Here they come, here they come!

Enter Gipsy Captain with a company of Gipsies, male and female, carrying booties of hens and ducks, &c., and singing.

G. Cap. Come, my dainty doxies,

My dells,^[930] my dells most dear;

We have neither house nor land,

Yet never want good cheer.

Chorus. We never want good cheer.

607G. Cap. We take no care for candle rents.

Sec. Gip. We lie.

Th. Gip. We snort.

G. Cap. We sport^[931] in tents,

Then rouse betimes and steal our dinners.

Our store is never taken

Without pigs, hens, or bacon,

And that’s good meat for sinners:

At makes and fairs me cozen

Poor country folks by dozen;

If one have money, he disburses;

Whilst some tell fortunes, some pick purses;

Rather than be out of use,

We’ll steal garters, hose, or shoes,

Boots, or spurs with gingling rowels,

Shirts or napkins, smocks or towels.

Come live with us, come live with us,

All you that love your eases;

He that’s a gipsy

May be drunk or tipsy

At what hour he pleases.

Chorus. We laugh, we quaff, we roar, we scuffle;

We cheat, we drab, we filch, we shuffle.

Don. O sweet! they deserve to be hanged for ravishing of me.

Aur. What will become of me? if I seem fearful now,

Or offer sudden flight, then I betray myself;

I must do neither. [Aside.

G. Cap. Ousabel,^[932] camcheteroon, puscatelion,

Hows-drows.

Sec. Gip. Rumbos stragadelion

Alla piskitch in sows-clows.

Oh, oh!

Don. Piskitch in howse-clout! I shall never keep 608a good tongue in my head till I get this language.

G. Cap. Umbra fill kevolliden, magro-pye.

Don. He calls her magot-o'-pie.^[933]

Aur. I love your language well, but understand it not.

G. Cap. Hah!

Aur. I am but lately turn’d to your profession;

Yet from my youth I ever lov’d it dearly,

But never could attain to’t: steal I can,

It was a thing I ever was brought up to;

My father was a miller, and my mother

A tailor’s widow.

Don. She’s a thief on both sides.

G. Cap. Give me thy hand; thou art no bastard born,

We have not a more true-bred thief amongst us.

Gipsies. Not any, captain.

Don. I pray, take me into some grace amongst you too; for though I claim no goodness from my parents to help me forward into your society, I had two uncles that were both hanged for robberies, if that will serve your turn, and a brave cut-purse to my cousin-german: if kindred will be taken, I am as near akin to a thief as any of you that had fathers and mothers.

G. Cap. What is it thou requirest, noble cousin?

Don. Cousin? nay, and^[934] we be so near akin already, now we are sober, we shall be sworn brothers when we are drunk: the naked truth is, sir, I would be made a gipsy as fast as you could devise.

G. Cap. A gipsy?

Don. Ay, with all the speed you can, sir; the 609very sight of those stolen hens eggs me forward horribly.

G. Cap. Here’s dainty ducks too, boy.

Don. I see 'em but too well; I would they were all rotten roasted and stuffed with onions.

G. Cap. Lov’st thou the common food of Egypt, onions?

Don. Ay, and garlic too; I have smelt out many a knave by’t; but I could never smell mine own breath yet, and that’s many a man’s fault; he can smell out a knave in another sometimes three yards off, yet his nose standing so nigh his mouth, he can never smell out himself.

G. Cap. A pregnant gipsy!

Gipsies. A most witty sinner!

G. Cap. Stretch forth thy hand, coz: art thou fortunate?

Don. How? fortunate? nay, I cannot tell that myself; wherefore do I come to you but to learn that? I have sometimes found money^[935] in old shoes; but if I had not stolen more than I have found, I had had but a scurvy thin-cheeked fortune on’t.

G. Cap. [taking Dondolo’s hand] Here’s a fair table.^[936]

Don. Ay, so has many a man that has given over housekeeping; a fair table, when there’s neither cloth nor meat upon’t.

G. Cap. What a brave line of life’s here; look you, gipsies.

Don. I have known as brave a line end in a halter.

G. Cap. But thou art born to precious fortune.

Don. The devil I am!

610G. Cap. Bette bucketto.

Don. How, to beat bucks?

G. Cap. Stealee bacono.

Don. O, to steal bacon; that’s the better fortune o’ th’ two indeed.

G. Cap. Thou wilt be shortly captain of the gipsies.

Don. I would you’d make me corporal i’ th’ meantime,

Or standard-bearer to the women’s regiment.

G. Cap. Much may be done for love.

Don. Nay, here’s some money;

I know an office comes not all for love.

[Feels in his pockets.

A pox of your lime-twigs! you have’t all already.

G. Cap. It lies but here in cash for thine own use, boy.

Don. Nay, an 't lie there once, I shall hardly come to the fingering on’t in haste; yet make me an apt scholar, and I care not: teach me but so much gipsy, to steal as much more from another, and the devil do you good of that.

G. Cap. Thou shalt have all thy heart requires:

First, here’s a girl for thy desires;

This doxy fresh, this new-come dell,^[937]

Shall lie by thy sweet side and swell.

Get me gipsies brave and tawny,

With cheek full plump and hip full brawny;

Look you prove industrious dealers,

To serve the commonwealth with stealers,

That th’ unhous’d race of fortune-tellers

May never fail to cheat town-dwellers,

Or, to our universal grief,

Leave country fairs without a thief.

611This is all you have to do,

Save every hour a filch or two,

Be it money, cloth, or pullen:^[938]

When the evening’s brow looks sullen,

Lose no time, for then ’tis precious;

Let your slights^[939] be fine, facetious:

Which hoping you’ll observe, to try thee,

With rusty bacon thus I gipsify thee.

[Rubs his face with bacon.

Don. Do you use to do’t with bacon?

G. Cap. Evermore.

Don. By this light, the rats will take me now for some hog’s cheek, and eat up my face when I am asleep, I shall have never a bit left by to-morrow morning; and lying open mouthed as I use to do, I shall look for all the world like a mouse-trap baited with bacon.

G. Cap. Why, here’s a face like thine so done,

Only grain’d in by the sun;

And this, and these.

Don. Faith, then, there’s a company of bacon-faces of you, and I am one now to make up the number: we are a kind of conscionable people, and^[940] 'twere well thought upon, for to steal bacon, and black our faces with’t; ’tis like one that commits sin, and writes his faults in his forehead.

G. Cap. Wit, whither wilt thou?^[941]

Don. Marry, to the next pocket I can come at; and if it be a gentleman’s, I wish a whole quarter’s rent in’t. Is this my in dock, out nettle?^[942] What’s gipsy for her?

612G. Cap. Your doxy she.

Don. O, right.—Are you my doxy, sirrah?^[943]

Aur. I’ll be thy doxy and thy dell,

With thee I’ll live, for thee I’ll steal;

From fair to fair, from wake to wake,

I’ll ramble still for thy sweet sake.

Don. O, dainty fine doxy! she speaks the language as familiarly already as if sh’ad been begot of a canter.^[944] I pray, captain, what’s gipsy for the hind quarter of a woman?

G. Cap. Nosario.

Don. Nosario? why, what’s gipsy for my nose then?

G. Cap. Why, arsinio.

Don. Arsinio? faith, methinks you might have devised a sweeter word for’t.

Enter Aurelia’s Father, and Governor.

G. Cap. Stop, stop! fresh booties,—gentlefolks, signoroes,

Calavario, fulkadelio.

Sec. Gip. La gnambrol a tumbrel.

Don. How? give me one word amongst you, that I may be doing too.

Aur. Yonder they are again! O guiltiness,

613Thou putt’st more trembling fear into a maid

Than the first wedding-night. Take courage, wench,

Thy face cannot betray thee with a blush now.

[Aside.

Fath. Which way she took her flight, sir, none can guess,

Or how she ’scap’d.

Gov. Out at some window certainly.

Fath. O, ’tis a bold daring baggage!

Gov. See, good fortune, sir,

The gipsies! they’re the cunning’st people living.

Fath. They cunning? what a confidence have you, sir!

No wise man’s faith was ever set in fortunes.

Gov. You’re the wilfull’st man against all learning still:

I will be hang’d now, if I hear not news of her

Amongst this company.

Fath. You are a gentleman of the flatt’ring’st hopes

That e’er lost woman yet.

Gov. Come hither, gipsy.

Aur. Luck now, or I’m undone. [Aside.]—What says my master?

Bless me with a silver cross,^[945]

And I will tell you all your loss.

Gov. Lo you there, sir! all my loss; at first word too:

There is no cunning in these gipsies now?

Fath. Sure I’ll hear more of this.

Gov. Here’s silver for you. [Gives money.

Aur. Now attend your fortune’s story:

You lov’d a maid.

Gov. Right.

614Aur. She ne’er lov’d you:

You shall find my words are true.

Gov. Mass, I am afraid so.

Aur. You were about

To keep her in, but could not do’t:

Alas the while, she would not stay,

The cough o’ th’ lungs^[946] blew her away!

And, which is worse, you’ll be so crost,

You’ll never find the thing that’s lost;

Yet oftentimes your sight will fear her,

She’ll be near you, and yet you ne’er the nearer:

Let her go, and be the gladder;

She’d but shame you, if you had her:

Ten counsellors could never school her;

She is so wild, you could not rule her.

Gov. In troth I’m of thy mind, yet I’d fain find her.

Aur. Soonest then when you least mind her;

But if you mean to take her tripping,

Make but haste, she’s now a-shipping.

Gov. I ever dream’d so much.

Fath. Hie to the key.—

We’ll mar your voyage, you shall brook no sea.

[Exeunt Father and Governor.

G. Cap. Cheteroon, high gulleroon.

Don. Filcheroon, purse-fulleroon: I can say somewhat

too.

Gipsies. Excellent gipsy! witty, rare doxy!

Don. I would not change my dell^[947] for a dozen

of black bell-wethers.

Song.

G. Cap. Our wealth swells high, my boys.

Don. Our wealth swells high, my boys.

615G. Cap. Let every gipsy

Dance with his doxy,

And then drink, drink for joy.

Don. Let every gipsy

Dance with his doxy,

And then drink, drink for joy.

Chorus. And then drink, drink for joy.

[Exeunt with a strange wild-fashioned dance to the hautboys or cornets.