Part 15

_Bob._ See, things will veer about: this Don _Vitelli_ Am I to seek now, to deliver Letters From my young Mistriss _Clara_: and I tell you, Under the Rose, because you are a stranger, And my special friend, I doubt there is A little foolish love betwixt the parties, Unknown unto my Lord.

_Pio._ Happy discovery: My fruit begins to ripen: hark you Sir, I would not wish you now, to give those Letters: But home, and ope this to _Madona Clara_, Which when I come I'll justifie, and relate More amply, and particularly.

_Bob._ I approve Your counsel, and will practise it: _bazilos manos_: Here's two chewres chewr'd: when wisdom is imploy'd 'Tis ever thus: your more acquaintance, Signior: I say not better, least you think, I thought not Yours good enough. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Alguazier.

_Pio._ Your servant excellent Steward. Would all the Dons in _Spain_ had no more brains, Here comes the _Alguazier: dieu vous guard Monsieur_. Is my Cuz stirring yet?

_Alg._ Your Cuz (good cosin?) A whore is like a fool, a kin to all The gallants in the Town: Your [C]uz, good Signior, Is gone abroad; Sir, with her other Cosin, My Lord _Vitelli_: since when there hath been Some dozen Cosins here to enquire for her.

_Pio._ She's greatly ally'd Sir.

_Alg._ Marry is she, Sir, Come of a lusty kindred: the truth is, I must connive no more: no more admittance Must I consent to; my good Lord has threatned me, And you must pardon.

_Pio._ Out upon thee man, Turn honest in thine age? one foot i'th' grave? Thou shalt not wrong thy self so, for a million: Look, thou three-headed _Cerberus_ (for wit I mean) here is one sop, and two, and three, For every chop a bit.

_Alg._ I marry Sir: Well, the poor heart loves you but too well. We have been talking on you 'faith this hour: Where, what I said, goe too: she loves your valour; Oh, and your Musick most abominably: She is within Sir, and alone: what mean you?

_Pio._ That is your Sergeants side, I take it Sir; Now I endure your Constables much better; There is less danger in't: for one you know Is a tame harmless monster in the light, The Sergeant salvage both by day, and night.

_Alg._ I'll call her to you for that.

_Pio._ No, I will charm her.

_Enter_ Malroda.

_Alg._ She's come.

_Pio._ My Spirit.

_Mal._ Oh my Sweet, Leap hearts to lips, and in our kisses meet.

SONG.

_Pio. Turn, turn thy beauteous face away._ _How pale and sickly looks the day,_ _In emulation of thy brighter beams!_ _Oh envious light, fli, flie, begone,_ _Come night, and piece two breasts as one;_ _When what love does, we will repeat in dreams._ _Yet (thy eyes open) who can day hence fright,_ _Let but their Lids fall, and it will be night._

_Alg._ Well, I will leave you to your fortitude; And you to temperance: ah, ye pretty pair, 'Twere sin to sunder you. Lovers being alone Make one of two, and day and [n]ight all one. But fall not out, I charge you, keep the peace; You know my place else. [_Exit._

_Mal._ No, you will not marry: You are a Courtier, and can sing (my Love) And want no Mistrisses: but yet I care not, I'll love you still; and when I am dead for you, Then you'll believe my truth.

_Pio._ You kill me (fair) It is my lesson that you speak: have I In any circumstance deserv'd this doubt? I am not like your false and perjur'd Don That here maintains you, and has vow'd his faith, And yet attempts in way of marriage A Lady not far off.

_Mal._ How's that?

_Pio._ 'Tis so: And therefore Mistriss, now the time is come You may demand his promise; and I swear To marry you with speed.

_Mal._ And with that Gold Which Don _Vitelli_ gives, you'll walk some voyage And leave me to my Trade; and laugh, and brag, How you o'er-reach'd a whore, and gull'd a Lord.

_Pio._ You anger me extreamly: fare you well. What should I say to be believ'd? expose me To any hazard; or like jealous _Juno_ (Th' incensed step-mother of _Hercules_) Design me labours most impossible, I'll doe 'em, or die in 'em; so at last You will believe me.

_Mal._ Come, we are friends: I do, I am thine, walk in: my Lord has sent me outsides, But thou shall have 'em, the colours are too sad:

_Pio._ 'Faith Mistriss, I want clothes indeed.

_Mal._ I have Some Gold too, for my servant.

_Pio._ And I have A better mettal for my Mistriss. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Tertia._

_Enter_ Vitelli _and_ Alguazier, _at several doors_.

_Alg._ Undone--wit now or never help me: my Master He will cut my throat, I am a dead Constable; And he'll not be hang'd neither, there's the grief: The party, Sir, is here.

_Vit._ What?

_Alg._ He was here; I cry your Lordship mercy: but I ratled him; I told him here was no companions For such debauch'd, and poor condition'd fellows; I bid him venture not so desperately The cropping of his ears, slitting his nose, Or being gelt.

_Vit._ 'Twas well done.

_Alg._ Please your honor, I told him there were Stews, and then at last Swore three or four great oaths she was remov'd, Which I did think I might, in conscience, Being for your Lordship.

_Vit._ What became of him?

_Alg._ Faith Sir, he went away with a flea in's ear, Like a poor cur, clapping his trundle tail Betwixt his legs.--_A chi ha, a chi ha, a chi ha_--now luck.

_Enter_ Malroda _and_ Piorato.

_Mal._ 'Tis he, do as I told thee: Bless thee Signior. Oh, my dear Lord.

_Vit. Malroda_, what alone?

_Mal._ She never is alone, that is accompanied With noble thoughts, my Lord; and mine are such, Being only of your Lordship.

_Vit._ Pretty Lass.

_Mal._ Oh my good Lord, my Picture's done: but 'faith It is not like; nay, this way Sir, the light Strikes best upon it here.

_Pio._ Excellent wench. [_Exit._

_Alg._ I am glad the danger's over. [_Exit._

_Vit._ 'Tis wondrous like, But that Art cannot counterfeit what Nature Could make but once.

_Mal._ All's clear; another tune You must hear from me now: _Vitelli_, thou'rt A most perfidious and a perjur'd man, As ever did usurp Nobility.

_Vit._ What meanst thou _Mal_?

_Mal._ Leave your betraying smiles, And change the tunes of your inticing tongues To penitential prayers; for I am great In labour, even with anger, big with child Of womans rage, bigger than when my womb Was pregnant by thee: go seducer, flie Out of the world, let me the last wretch be Dishonored by thee: touch me not, I loath My very heart, because thou lay'st there long; A woman's well help'd up, that's confident In e'er a glittering outside on you all: Would I had honestly been match'd to some Poor Countrey-swain, e'er known the vanity Of Court: peace then had been my portion, Nor had been cozen'd by an hours pomp To be a whore unto my dying day.

_Vit._ Oh the uncomfortable waies such women have, Their different speech and meaning, no assurance In what they say or do: Dissemblers Even in their prayers, as if the weeping _Greek_ That flatter'd _Troy_ a-fire, had been their Adam; Lyers, as if their mother had been made Only of all the falshood of the man, Dispos'd into that rib: Do I know this, And more: nay, all that can concern this Sex, With the true end of my creation? Can I with rational discourse sometimes Advance my spirit into Heaven, before 'T has shook hands with my body, and yet blindly Suffer my filthy flesh to master it, With sight of such fair frail beguiling objects? When I am absent, easily I resolve Ne'er more to entertain those strong desires That triumph o'er me, even to actual sin; Yet when I meet again those sorcerers eies, Their beams my hardest resolutions thaw, As if that cakes of Ice and _July_ met, And her sighs powerful as the violent North, Like a light feather twirl me round about And leave me in mine own low state again. What ayl'st thou? prethee weep not: Oh, those tears If they were true, and rightly spent, would raise A flow'ry spring i'th' midst of _January_: Celestial Ministers with Chrystal cups Would stoop to save 'em for immortal drink: But from this passion; why all this?

_Mal._ Do ye ask? You are marrying: having made me unfit For any man, you leave me fit for all: Porters must be my burthens now, to live, And fitting me your self for Carts, and Beadles, You leave me to 'em: And who of all the world But the _virago_, your great Arch-foes daughter? But on: I care not, this poor rush: 'twill breed An excellent Comedy: ha, ha: 't makes me laugh: I cannot choose: the best is, some report It is a match for fear, not love o' your side.

_Vit._ Why how the devil knows she, that I saw This Lady? are all whores, piec'd with some witch? I will be merry, 'faith 'tis true, sweet heart, I am to marry?

_Mal._ Are you? you base Lord, By ---- I'll pistol thee.

_Vit._ A roaring whore? Take heed, there's a Correction-house hard by: You ha' learn'd this o' your swordman, that I warn'd you of, Your Fencers, and your drunkards: but whereas You upbraid me with oaths, why I must tell you I ne'er promis'd you marriage, nor have vow'd, But said I lov'd you, long as you remain'd The woman I expected, or you swore, And how you have fail'd of that (sweet-heart) you know. You fain would shew your power, but fare you well, I'll keep no more faith with an infidel.

_Mal._ Nor I my bosome for a _Turk_: d' ye hear? Goe, and the devil take me, if ever I see you more: I was too true.

_Vit._ Come, pish: That devil take the falsest of us two.

_Mal._ Amen.

_Vit._ You are an ill Clark; and curse your self: Madness transports you: I confess, I drew you Unto my Will: but you must know that must not Make me doat on the habit of my sin. I will, to settle you to your content, Be master of my word: and yet he ly'd That told you I was marrying, but in thought: But will you slave me to your tyranny So cruelly I shall not dare to look Or speak to other women? make me not Your smock's Monopolie: come, let's be friends: Look, here's a Jewel for thee: I will come At night, and--

_Mal._ What 'yfaith: you shall not, Sir.

_Vit._ 'Faith, and troth, and verily, but I will.

_Mal._ Half drunk, to make a noise, and rail?

_Vit._ No, no, Sober, and dieted for the nonce: I am thine, I have won the day.

_Mal._ The night (though) shall be mine. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Quarta._

_Enter_ Clara, _and_ Bobadilla _with Letters_.

_Cla._ What said he, sirrah?

_Bob._ Little, or nothing: faith I saw him not, Nor will not: he doth love a strumpet, Mistriss, Nay, keeps her spitefully, under the Constables nose, It shall be justified by the Gentleman Your brothers Master that is now within A practising: there are your Letters: come You shall not cast your self away, while I live, Nor will I venture my Right worshipful place In such a business--here's your Mother, down: And he that loves you: another 'gates fellow, I wish, If you had any grace.

_Enter_ Eugenia _and_ Sayavedra.

_Cla._ Well rogue.

_Bob._ I'll in, to see Don _Lucio_ manage, he'll make A pretty piece of flesh, I promise you, He does already handle his weapon finely. [_Exit._

_Eug._ She knows your love, Sir, and the full allowance Her Father and my self approve it with, And I must tell you, I much hope it hath Wrought some impression by her alteration; She sighs, and saies, forsooth, and cries heigh-ho, She'll take ill words o' th' Steward, and the Servants, Yet answer affably, and modestly: Things Sir, not usual with her: there she is, Change some few words.

_Say._ Madam, I am bound t'ye; How now, fair Mistriss, working?

_Cla._ Yes forsooth, Learning to live another day.

_Say._ That needs not.

_Cla._ No forsooth: by my truly but it does, We kn[o]w not what we may come to.

_Eug._ 'Tis strange.

_Say._ Come, I ha begg'd leave for you to play.

_Cla._ Forsooth 'Tis ill for a fair Lady to be idle.

_Say._ She had better be well-busied, I know that. Turtle: me thinks you mourn, shall I sit by you?

_Cla._ If you be weary, Sir, you had best be gone (I work not a true stitch) now you're my mate.

_Say._ If I be so, I must do more than side you.

_Cla._ Ev'n what you will, but tread me.

_Say._ Shall we bill?

_Cla._ Oh no, forsooth.

_Say._ Being so fair, my _Clara_, Why d'ye delight in Black-work?

_Cla._ Oh White Sir, The fairest Ladies like the blackest men: I ever lov'd the colour: all black things Are least subject to change.

_Say._ Why, I do love A black thing too: and the most beauteous faces Have oftnest of them: as the blackest eyes, Jet-arched brows, such hair: I'll kiss your hand.

_Cla._ 'Twill hinder me my work Sir: and my Mother Will chide me, if I do not do my taske.

_Say._ Your Mother, nor your Father shall chide: you Might have a prettier taske, would you be rul'd, And look with open eyes.

_Cla._ I stare upon you: And broadly see you, a wondrous proper man, Yet 'twere a greater taske for me to love you Than I shall ever work Sir, in seven year, --O' this stitching, I had rather feel Two, than sow one:--this rogue h' as given me a stitch good faith sir: I shall prick you. Clean cross my heart:

_Say._ In gooder faith, I would prick you againe.

_Cla._] Now you grow troublesome: pish, the man is foolish.

_Say._ Pray wear these trifles.

_Cla._ Neither you, nor trifles, You are a trifle, wear your self, Sir, out, And here no more trifle the time away.

_Say._ Come; you're deceiv'd in me, I will not wake, Nor fast, nor dye for you.

_Cla._ Goose, be not you deceiv'd, I cannot like, nor love, nor live with you, Nor fast, nor watch, nor pray for you.

_Eug._ Her old fit.

_Say._ Sure this is not the way, nay, I will break Your melancholly.

_Cla._ I shall break your pate then, Away, you sanguine scabbard.

_Eug._ Out upon thee Thou'lt break my heart, I am sure.

_Enter_ Alvarez, Piorato, Lucio, _and_ Bobadilla.

_Say._ She's not yet tame.

_Alv._ On Sir; put home: or I shall goad you here With this old Fox of mine, that will bite better: Oh, the brave age is gone; in my young daies A _Chevalier_ would stock a needle[s] point Three times together: strait i' th' hams? Or shall I give ye new Garters?

_Bob._ Faith old Master. There's little hope: the linnen sure was danck He was begot in, he's so faint, and cold: [_2 Torches ready._ Ev'n send him to _Toledo_, there to study, For he will never fadge with these _Toledos_; Bear ye up your point there; pick his teeth: Oh base.

_Pio._ Fie: you are the most untoward Scholar: bear Your body gracefully: what a posture's there? You lie too open-breasted.

_Luc._ Oh!

_Pio._ You'ld never Make a good States-man:

_Luc._ Pray no more. I hope to breathe in peace, and therefore need not The practise of these dangerous qualities, I do not mean to live by't; for I trust You'll leave me better able.

_Alv._ Not a Button: Let's goe get us a new heir.

_Eug._ I by my troth: your daughter's as untoward.

_Alv._ I will break thee bone by bone, and bake thee, E'r I'll ha' such a wooden Son to inherit: Take him a good knock; see how that will work.

_Pio._ Now, for your life Signior:

_Luc._ Oh: alas, I am kill'd My eye is out: look Father: _Zancho_: I'll play the fool no more thus, that I will not.

_Cla._ 'Heart: ne'r a rogue in _Spain_ shall wrong my brother Whilst I can hold a sword.

_Pio._ Hold Madam, Madam.

_Alv. Clara._

_Eug._ Daughter.

_Bo[b]._ Mistress.

_Pio. Bradamante._ Hold, hold I pray.

_Alv._ The devil's in her, o'the other side sure, There's Gold for you: they have chang'd what ye calt's: Will no cure help? well I have one experiment, And if that fail, I'll hang him, then here's an end on't. Come you along with me: and you Sir: [_Exeunt. Alv. Eug. Luc. Bob._

_Bob._ Now are you going to drowning.

_Say._ I'll ev'n along with ye: she's too great a Lady For me, and would prove more then my match. [_Exit._

_Cla._ You'r he spoke of _Vitelli_ to the Stewerd:

_Pio._ Yes, and I thank you, you have beat me for't.

_Cla._ But are you sure you do not wrong him?

_Pio._ Sure? So sure, that if you please venture your self I'll shew you him, and his Cokatrice together, And you shall hear 'em talk.

_Cla._ Will you? by ---- Sir You shall endear me ever: and I ask You mercy.

_Pio._ You were somewhat boystrous.

_Cla._ There's Gold to make you amends: and for this pains, I'll gratifie you farther: I'll but masque me And walk along with ye: faith let's make a night on't. [_Exit._

_Scæna Quinta._

_Enter_ Alguazier, Pachieco, Mendoza, Metaldi, Lazarillo.

_Alg._ Come on my brave water-Spaniels, you that hunt Ducks in the night: and hide more knavery under your gownes than your betters: observe my precepts, and edifie by my doctrine: at yond corner will I set you; if drunkards molest the street, and fall to brabling, knock you down the malefactors, and take you up their cloaks and hats, and bring them to me: they are lawful prisoners, and must be ransom'd ere they receive liberty: what else you are to execute upon occasion, you sufficiently know, and therefore I abbreviate my Lecture.

_Met._ We are wise enough, and warm enough.

_Men._ Vice this night shall be apprehended.

_Pach._ The terror of rug-gownes shall be known: and our bil[s] Discharge us of after recknings.

_Laz._ I will do any thing, so I may eat.

_Pach. Lazarillo_, We will spend no more; now we are grown worse, we will live better: let us follow our calling faithfully.

_Alg._ Away, then the Common-wealth is our Mistress: and who Would serve a common Mistress, but to gain by her? [_Exeunt._

_Actus Quartus. Scæna Prima._

_Enter_ Vitelli, Lamorall, Genevora, Anastro, _and two_ _Pages with lights_.

_Lam._ I pray you see the Masque, my Lord.

_Ana._ 'Tis early night yet.

_Gen._ O if it be so late, take me along: I would not give advantage to ill tongues To tax my being here, without your presence To be my warrant.

_Vit._ You might spare this, Sister, Knowing with whom I leave you; one that is By your allowance, and his choice, your Servant, And may my councel and perswasion work it, Your husband speedily: For your entertainment My thanks; I will not rob you of the means To do your Mistriss some acceptable service In waiting on her to my house.

_Gen._ My Lord.

_Vit._ As you respect me, without farther trouble Retire, and fast those pleasures prepar'd for you, And leave me to my own ways.

_Lam._ When you please Sir. [_Exeunt._

_Scæna Secunda._

_Enter_ Malroda, _and_ Alguazier.

_Mal._ You'll leave my Chamber?

_Alg._ Let us but bill once, My Dove, my Sparrow, and I, with my office Will be thy slaves for ever.

_Mal._ Are you so hot?

_Alg._ But tast the difference of a man in place, You'l find that when authority pricks him forward, Your _Don_, nor yet your _Diego_ comes not near him To do a Lady right: no men pay dearer For their stoln sweets, than we: three minutes trading Affords to any [si]nner a protection For three years after: think on that, I burn; But one drop of your bounty.

_Mal._ Hence you Rogue, Am I fit for you? is't not grace sufficient To have your staff, a bolt to bar the door Where a _Don_ enters, but that you'l presume To be his taster?

_Alg._ Is no more respect Due to [t]his rod of justice?

_Mal._ Do you dispute? Good Doctor of the Dungeon, not a word more, --If you do, my Lord _Vitelli_ knows it.

_Alg._ Why I am big enough to answer him, Or any man.

_Mal._ 'Tis well. [Vitelli _within_.

_Vit. Malroda._

_Alg._ How?

_Mal._ You know the voice, and now crowch like a Cur, Tane worrying sheep: I now could have you guelded For a Bawd rampant: but on this submission For once I spare you.

_Alg._ I will be reveng'd-- My honorable Lord.

_Enter_ Vitel.

_Vit._ There's for thy care.

_Alg._ I am mad, stark mad: proud Pagan scorn her host? I would I were but valiant enough to kick her,

_Enter_ Piorato, _and_ Clara _above_.

I'l[d] wish no manhood else.

_Mal._ What's that?

_Alg._ I am gone. [_Exit._

_Pio._ You see I have kept my word.

_Cla._ But in this object Hardly deserv'd my thanks.

_Pio._ Is there ought else You will command me?

_Cla._ Only your sword Which I must have: nay willingly I yet know To force it, and to use it.

_Pio._ 'Tis yours Lady.

_Cla._ I ask no other guard.

_Pio._ If so I leave you: And now, if that the Constable keep his word, A poorer man may chance to gull a Lord. [_Exit._

_Mal._ By this good ---- you shall not.

_Vit._ By this ---- I must, and will, _Malroda_; What do you make A stranger of me?

_Mal._ I'll be so to you, And you shall find it.

_Vit._ These are your old arts T'endear the game you know I come to hunt for, Which I have born too coldly.

_Mal._ Do so still, For if I heat you, hang me.

_Vit._ If you do not I know who'll starve for't: why, thou shame of women, Whose folly, or whose impudence is greater Is doubtful to determine; this to me That know thee for a whore.

_Mal._ And made me one, Remember that.

_Vit._ Why should I but grow wise And tye that bounty up, which nor discretion Nor honor can give way to; thou wouldst be A Bawd e're twenty, and within a Month A barefoot, lowzie, and diseased whore, And shift thy lodgings oftner than a rogue That's whipt from post to post.

_Mal._ Pish: all our Colledge Know you can rail well in this kind.

_Cla._ For me He never spake so well.

_Vit._ I have maintain'd thee The envy of great fortunes, made thee shine As if thy name were glorious: stuck thee full Of jewels, as the firmament of Stars, And in it made thee so remarkable That it grew questionable, whether virtue poor, Or vice so set forth as it is in thee, Were even by modesties self to be preferr'd, And am I thus repaid?

_Mal._ You are still my debtor; Can this (though true) be weigh'd with my lost honor, Much less my faith? I have liv'd private to you, And but for you, had ne'r known what lust was, Nor what the sorrow for't.

_Vit._ 'Tis false.

_Mal._ 'Tis true, But how return'd by you, thy whole life being But one continued act of lust, and Shipwrack Of womens chastities.

_Vit._ But that I know That she that dares be damn'd, dares any thing, I should admire thy tempting me: but presume not On the power you think you hold o're my affections, It will deceive you: yield, and presently Or by the inflamed blood, which thou must quench I'll make a forcible entry.