Chapter 56

_Enter_ ROBIN GOODFELLOW _with his head broken_.

ROB. The devil himself take all such dames for me! 'Zounds, I had rather be in hell than here. Nay, let him be his own man, if he list, Robin means not to stay to be us'd thus. The very first day, in her angry spleen, Her nimble hand began to greet my ears With such unkind salutes as I ne'er felt; And since that time there hath not pass'd an hour, Wherein she hath not either rail'd upon me, Or laid her anger's load upon my limbs. Even now (for no occasion in the world, But as it pleas'd her ladyship to take it) She gat me up a staff, and breaks my head. But I'll no longer serve so curs'd a dame; I'll run as far first as my legs will bear me. What shall I do? to hell I dare not go, Until my master's twelve months be expir'd, And here to stay with Mistress Marian-- Better to be so long in purgatory. Now, farewell, master! but, shrewd dame, fare-ill! I'll leave you, though the devil is with you still. [_Exit_ ROBIN.

_Enter_ MARIAN _alone, chafing_.

MAR. My heart still pants within; I am so chaf'd! The rascal slave, my man, that sneaking rogue, Had like to have undone us all for ever! My cousin Musgrave is with Honorea, Set in an arbour in the summer-garden; And he, forsooth, must needs go in for herbs, And told me further, that his master bad him: But I laid hold upon my younker's pate, And made the blood run down about his ears. I trow, he shall ask me leave ere he go. Now is my cousin master of his love, The lady at one time reveng'd and pleas'd. So speed they all that marry maids perforce!

_Enter_ CASTILIANO.

But here my husband comes.

CAS. What, dame, alone?

MAR. Yes, sir, this once--for want of company.

CAS. Why, where's my lady and my cousin Musgrave?

MAR. You may go look them both for aught I know.

CAS. What, are you angry, dame?

MAR. Yea, so it seems.

CAS. What is the cause, I prythee?

MAR. Why would you know?

CAS. That I might ease it, if it lay in me.

MAR. O, but it belongs not to your trade.

CAS. You know not that.

MAR. I know you love to prate, and so I leave you. [_Exit_ MARIAN.

CAS. Well, go thy way: oft have I raked hell To get a wife, yet never found her like. Why this it is to marry with a shrew. Yet if it be, as I presume it is, There's but one thing offends both her and me; And I am glad, if that be it offends her. 'Tis so, no doubt; I read it in her brow. Lord Lacy shall with all my heart enjoy Fair Honorea: Marian is mine; Who, though she be a shrew, yet is she honest. So is not Honorea, for even now, Walking within my garden all alone, She came with Musgrave, stealing closely by, And follows him, that seeks to fly from her. I spied this all unseen, and left them there. But sure my dame hath some conceit thereof, And therefore she is thus angry, honest soul! Well, I'll straight hence unto my Lord of Kent, And warn him watch his wife from these close meetings. Well, Marian, thou liv'st yet free from blame. Let ladies go; thou art the devil's dame. [_Exit_ CASTILIANO.

_Enter the_ DEVIL, _like_ MUSGRAVE, _with_ HONOREA.

MUS. No, lady; let thy modest, virtuous life Be always joined with thy comely shape, For lust eclipseth nature's ornament.

HON. Young heady boy, think'st thou thou shalt recall Thy long-made love, which thou so oft hast sworn, Making my maiden thoughts to doat on thee?

MUS. With patience hear me, and, if what I say Shall jump with reason,[456] then you'll pardon me. The time hath been when my soul's liberty Vow'd servitude unto that heavenly face, Whilst both had equal liberty of choice; But since the holy bond of marriage Hath left me single, you a wedded wife, Let me not be the third unlawfully To do Earl Lacy so foul injury. But now at last--

HON. I would that last Might be thy last, thou monster of all men!

MUS. Hear me with patience.

HON. Cease: I'll hear no more! 'Tis my affection, and not reason, speaks: Then, Musgrave, turn the hardness of thy heart, And now at least incline thy love to mine.

MUS. Nay, now I see thou wilt not be reclaim'd. Go and bestow this hot love on the earl; Let not these loose affects thus scandalise Your fair report. Go home, and learn to live As chaste as Lucrece, madam. So I leave you.

[_She pulleth him back_.

HON. O, stay a little while, and hear my tongue Speak my heart's words, which cannot choose but tell thee, I hate the earl, only because I love thee. [_Exit_ MUSGRAVE. Musgrave, return! hear, Honorea speaks! Disdain hath left him wings to fly from me! Sweet love, lend me thy wings to overtake him, For I can stay him with kind dalliance! All this is but the blindness of my fancy. Recall thyself: let not thy honour bleed With the foul wounds of infamy and shame. My proper home shall call me home again, Where my dear lord bewails, as much as I, His too much love to her that loves not him. Let none hereafter fix her maiden love Too firm on any, lest she feel with me Musgrave's revolt and his inconstancy. [_Exit_.

_Enter_ FORREST, _with_ MARIAN.

FOR. Tut, I'll remember thee, and straight return: But here's the doctor.

MAR. Where? Forrest, farewell! I would not have him see me for a world.

FOR. Why? he is not here. Well, now I see you fear him.

MAR. Marry, beshrew thee for thy false alarm! I fear him? no, I neither fear nor love him.

FOR. But where's my lady? She is gone home before, And I must follow after. Marian, farewell.

MAR. I shall expect your coming.

FOR. Presently; And nearest thou, Marian? nay, it shall be so--

[_He whispers in her ear_.

MAR. O Lord, sir, you are wed, I warrant you: We'll laugh, be merry, and, it may be, kiss; But if you look for more, you aim amiss.

FOR. Go to, go to! we'll talk of this anon.

[_Exit_ FORREST.

MAR. Well, go thy way, for the true-heartedst man That liveth, and as full of honesty, And yet as wanton as a pretty lamb. He'll come again, for he hath lov'd me long, And so have many more besides himself; But I was coy and proud, as maids are wont, Meaning to match beyond my mean estate: Yet I have favour'd youths and youthful sports, Although I durst not venture on the main; But now it will not be so soon espied. Maids cannot, but a wife a fault may hide.

_Enter_ NAN.

What, Nan!

NAN. Anon, forsooth.

MAR. Come hither, maid. Here, take my keys, and fetch the galley-pot; Bring a fair napkin and some fruit-dishes. Despatch, and make all ready presently; Miles Forrest will come straight to drink with me.

NAN. I will, forsooth. [_Exit_ NAN.

MAR. Why am I young, but to enjoy my years? Why am I fair, but that I should be lov'd? And why should I be lov'd, and not love others? Tut, she is a fool that her affection smothers: 'Twas not for love I was the doctor's wife, Nor did he love me, when he first was mine. Tush, tush, this _wife_ is but an idle name! I purpose now to try another game. Art thou return'd so soon? O, 'tis well done.

_Enter_ NAN _with the banquet_.

And hear'st thou, Nan? when Forrest shall return, If any happen to inquire for me, Whether't be Captain Clinton or Ralph Harvey, Call presently, and say, thy master's come; So I'll send Forrest o'er the garden pale.

NAN. I will, forsooth.

MAR. Meantime, stay thou and make our banquet ready. I'll to my closet, and be here again, Before Miles Forrest shall come visit me. [_Exit_ MARIAN.

NAN. I wonder what my mistress is about? Somewhat she would not have my master know: Whate'er it be, 'tis nothing unto me; She's my good mistress, and I'll keep her counsel. I have oft seen her kiss behind his back, And laugh and toy, when he did little think it. O, what a winking eye the wanton hath To cosen him, even when he looks upon her! But what have I to do with what she doth? I'll taste her junkets since I am alone: That which is good for them cannot hurt me. Ay, marry, this is sweet! a cup of wine Will not be hurtful for digestion. [_She drinks_.]

_Enter_ CASTILIANO.

CAS. I would I had been wiser once to-day; I went on purpose to my Lord of Kent To give him some good counsel for his wife, And he, poor heart, no sooner heard my news, But turns me up his whites, and falls flat down: There I was fain to rub and chafe his veins, And much ado we had to get him live. But for all that he is extremely sick, And I am come in all the haste I may For cordials to keep the earl alive. But how now? What, a banquet! What means this?

NAN. Alas! my master is come home himself. Mistress, mistress! my master is come home!

CAS. Peace, you young strumpet, or I'll stop your speech! [_He stops her mouth_. Come hither, maid: tell me, and tell me true, What means this banquet? what's your mistress doing? Why call'dst[457] thou out, when as thou saw'st me coming? Tell me, or else I'll hang thee by the heels, And whip thee naked. Come on, what's the matter?

NAN. Forsooth, I cannot tell.

CAS. Can you not tell? come on, I'll make you tell me.

NAN. O master! I will tell you.

CAS. Then say on.

NAN. Nothing, in truth, forsooth, but that she means To have a gentleman come drink with her.

CAS. What gentleman?

NAN. Forsooth, 'tis Master Forrest, as I think.

CAS. Forrest? nay then I know how the game goeth: Whoever loseth, I am sure to win By their great kindness, though't be but the horns.

_Enter_ FORREST _at one door_, MARIAN _at another_.

But here comes he and she. Come hither, maid: Upon thy life, give not a word, a look, That she may know aught of my being here. Stand still, and do whate'er she bids thee do. Go, get thee gone; but if thou dost betray me, I'll cut thy throat: look to it, for I will do it. I'll stand here close to see the end of this, And see what rakes she keeps, when I'm abroad. [CASTILIANO _conceals himself_.]

MAR. 'Tis kindly done, Miles, to return so soon, And so I take it. Nan, is our banquet ready? Welcome, my love! I see you'll keep your word.

NAN. 'Twere better for you both he had not kept it. [_Aside_.]

FOR. Yea, Mariana, else I were unworthy. I did but bring my lady to the door, And there I left her full of melancholy, And discontented.

MAR. Why, 'twas kindly done. Come, come sit down, and let us laugh awhile: Maid, fill some wine.

NAN. Alas! my breech makes buttons, And so would theirs, knew they as much as I. He may change the sweetmeats, and put Purging comfits in the dishes.

MAR. Here's to my lady and my cousin Musgrave.

FOR. I pray, remember gentle master doctor And good Earl Lacy too, among the rest.

CAS. O sir, we find you kind--we thank you for it: The time may come when we may cry you quit. [_Aside_.]

NAN. Master, shall I steal you a cup of wine? [_Aside_

CAS. Away, you baggage! hold your peace, you wretch! [_Aside_.]

FOR. But I had rather walk into your orchard, And see your gallery so much commended; To view the workmanship he brought from Spain. Wherein's describ'd the banquet of the gods.

MAR. Ay, there's one piece exceeding lively done;[458] Where Mars and Venus lie within a net, Enclos'd by Vulcan, and he looking on.

CAS. Better and better yet: 'twill mend anon.

MAR. Another of Diana with her nymphs, Bathing their naked bodies in the streams; Where fond Acteon, for his eyes' offence, Is turn'd into a hart's shape, horns and all: And this the doctor hangs right o'er his bed.

FOR. Those horns may fall and light upon his head.

CAS. And if they do, worse luck. What remedy? [_Aside_.]

FOR. Nay, Marian, we'll not leave these sights unseen; And then we'll see your orchard and your fruit, For now there hang queen apples on the trees, And one of them is[459] worth a score of these.

MAR. Well, you shall see them, lest you lose your longing. [_Exeunt_ MARIAN _and_ FORREST.

CAS. Nay, if ye fall a longing for green fruit, Child-bearing is not far off, I am sure. Why, this is excellent: I feel the buds! My head groweth hard: my horns will shortly spring! Now, who may lead the cuckold's dance but I, That am become the headman of the parish? O, this it is to have an honest wife, Of whom so much I boasted once to-day. Come hither, minx! you know your mistress' mind, And you keep secret all her villanies: Tell me, you were best, where was this plot devised? How did these villains know I was abroad?

NAN. Indeed, forsooth, I know[460] not when it was. My mistress call'd me from my work of late, And bad me lay a napkin: so I did, And made this banquet ready; but in truth I knew not what she did intend to do.

CAS. No, no, you did not watch against I came, To give her warning to despatch her knaves! You cried not out when as you saw me come! All this is nothing; but I'll trounce you all.

NAN. In truth, good master!

_Enter_ MARIAN, FORREST.

CAS. Peace, stay! they come. Whimper not; and you do, I'll use you worse. Behold that wicked strumpet with that knave! O, that I had a pistol for their sakes, That at one shot I might despatch them both! But I must stand close yet, and see the rest. [_He conceals himself again_.]

MAR. How lik'st thou, Miles, my orchard and my house?

FOR. Well; thou art seated to thy heart's content, A pleasant orchard and a house well-furnish'd: There nothing wants; but in the gallery The painter shows his art exceedingly.

MAR. Yet is there one thing goeth beyond all these: Contented life, that giveth the heart his ease, And that I want. [_One knocketh at the door_.

FOR. Sweet love, adieu. [_Exit_ FORREST.

MAR. Farewell, sweetheart. Who is that at the door?

_Enter_ CLINTON.

CLIN. A friend.

MAR. Come near: what, captain, is it you?

CLIN. Even I, fair Marian, watching carefully The blessed step of opportunity.

MAR. Good, good! how fortune gluts me with excess! Still they that have enough shall meet with more.

CLIN. But where's the doctor?

MAR. Ministering abroad Physic to some sick patients he retains.

CLIN. Let him abroad, I'll minister at home Such physic shall content my Marian.

CAS. O monstrous! now the world must see my shame. This head must bear whatever likes[461] my dame. [_Aside_.]

MAR. I have no malady requires a cure.

CLIN. Why, then, must I assume a sick man's part And all my sickness lieth at my heart? 'Tis the heart-burning that torments me so.

MAR. There is no cure for fire but to be quench'd.

CLIN. Thou hast prescrib'd a sovereign remedy.

CAS. O, who the devil made her a physician? [_Aside_.]

CLIN. Let's not obscure what love doth manifest; Nor let a stranger's bed make thee seem strange To him that ever lov'd and honour'd thee.

MAR. A captain made a captive by loose love And gadding fancy! fie, 'twere monstrous shame That Cupid's bow should blemish Mars's name: Take up thy arms, recall thy drooping thoughts, And lead thy troops into the spacious fields.

CAS. She counsels others well, if she would take it. [_Aside_.]

CLIN. Thou counsellest the blind to lead the blind. Can I lead them that cannot guide myself? Thou, Marian, must release my captive heart.

MAR. With all my heart I grant thee free release.

CLIN. Thou art obscure too much: but tell me, love, Shall I obtain my long-desired love?

MAR. Captain, there is yet somewhat in thy mind Thou wouldst reveal, but wantest utterance. Thou better knowest to front the braving foe, Than plead love-suits.

CLIN. I grant 'tis even so; Extremity of passions still are dumb, No tongue can tell love's chief perfections: Persuade thyself my love-sick thoughts are thine; Thou only may'st those drooping thoughts refine.

MAR. Since at my hands thou seek'st a remedy, I'll ease thy grief, and cure thy malady. No drug the doctor hath shall be too dear; His antidote shall fly to do thee good. Come in, and let thy eye make choice for thee, That thou may'st know how dear thou art to me. [_Exeunt_ CLINTON, MARIAN.

CAS. Is this obedience? now the devil go with them! And yet I dare not; O, she's mankind grown![462] O miserable men that must live so, And damned strumpet,[463] author of this woe!

_Enter_ CLINTON, MARIAN.

But peace! be still! they come. O shameless shame! Well may the world call thee the devil's dame.

MAR. Captain, thy skill hath pleased me so well, That I have vow'd my service to Bellona.

CAS. Her service to Bellona! turn'd stark ruffian! She'll be call'd Cavaliero Marian. [_Aside_.]

CLIN. And I will train thee up in feats of arms, And teach thee all the orders of the field; That whilst we, like to Mars and Venus, jest, The doctor's head may get a gallant crest.

CAS. I can no longer linger my disgrace, Nor hide my shame from their detested sight. How now, thou whore, dishonour to my bed! Disdain to womanhood, shame of thy sex! Insatiate monster! corrosive of my soul! What makes this captain revelling in my house? My house! nay, in my bed! You'll prove a soldier! Follow Bellona, turn a martialist! I'll try if thou hast learn'd to ward my blows.

MAR. Why, how now, man! is this your madding month? What, sir! will you forbid me in good sort To entertain my friends?

CAS. Your friends, you whore! They are no friends of mine, nor come they here. Clinton, avaunt, my house is for no such.

MAR. Alas, good sir! are you grown so suspicious, Thus on no proofs to nourish jealousy? I cannot kiss a man but you'll be angry. In spite of you, or whoso else saith nay, My friends are welcome, as they come this way: If you mislike it, mend it as you may. What, do you think to pin up Marian, As you were wont to do your Spanish girls? No, sir, I'll be half mistress of myself; The other half is yours, if you deserve it.

CLIN. What madness mov'd thee be displeas'd with me, That always us'd thee with so kind regard? Did I not at thy first arrival here Conduct thee to the Earl of London's house?

MAR. Did I not, being unsolicited, Bestow my first pure maiden love on thee?

CLIN. Did I not grace thee there in all the court, And bear thee out against the daring abbot?

MAR. Did I not forsake many young gallant courtiers, Enamoured with thy aged gravity, Who, now being weary of me, wouldst disgrace me?

CAS. If there be any conscience left on earth, How can I but believe these protestations?

CLIN. Have I not always been thy nearest friend?

MAR. Have I not always been thy dearest wife?

CLIN. How much will all the world in this condemn thee?

MAR. At first I little fear'd what now I find, And grieve too late.

CAS. Content thee, gentle dame. The nature of our countrymen is such, That, if we see another kiss our wives, We cannot brook it: but I will be pleas'd; For, will I, nill I,[464] so methinks I must. And, gentle captain, be not you offended; I was too hot at first, but now repent it. I prythee, gentle dame, forgive me this, And drown all jealousy in this sweet kiss.

CLIN. This shows your wisdom: on, I'll follow you.

MAR. [_Aside_.] Well, doctor, henceforth never reckon[465] it scorn At my sweet Clinton's hands to take the horn.

[_Exeunt_.