SCENE I.[2735

_Enter_ MAQUERELLE, _knocking at the ladies’ door_.

_Maq._ Medam, medam, are you stirring, medam? If you be stirring, medam,—if I thought I should disturb ye—

[_Enter_ Page.]

_Page._ My lady is up, forsooth.

_Maq._ A pretty boy, faith: how old art thou?

_Page._ I think fourteen. 6

_Maq._ Nay, an ye be in the teens—are ye a gentleman born? Do you know me? My name is Medam Maquerelle; I lie in the old Cunny-court. 10

_Enter_ BIANCA _and_ EMILIA.

[_Page._] See, here the ladies.

_Bian._ A fair day to ye, Maquerelle.

_Emil._ Is the duchess up yet, sentinel?

_Maq._ O ladies, the most abominable mischance! O dear ladies the most piteous disaster! (15) Ferneze was taken last night in the duchess’ chamber. Alas, the duke catcht him and kill’d him!

_Bian._ Was he found in bed?

_Maq._ O, no; but the villanous certainty is, (20) the door was not bolted, the tongue-tied hatch held his peace: so the naked troth is, he was found in his shirt, whilst I, like an arrant beast, lay in the outward chamber, heard nothing; and yet they came by me in the dark, and (25) yet I felt them not, like a senseless creature as I was. O beauties, look to your busk-points;[2736] if not chastely, yet charily: be sure the door be bolted.—Is your lord gone to Florence?

_Bian._ Yes, Maquerelle. 30

_Maq._ I hope you ’ll find the discretion to purchase a fresh gown ’fore his return.—Now, by my troth, beauties, I would ha’ ye once wise. He loves ye; pish! He is witty; bubble! Fair-proportioned; mew! Nobly-born; wind! Let (35) this be still your fixed position: esteem me every man according to his good gifts, and so ye shall ever remain most worthy to be most dear ladies.

_Emil._ Is the duke returned from hunting yet? 40

_Maq._ They say not yet.

_Bian._ ’T is now in midst of day.

_Emil._ How bears the duchess with this blemish now?

_Maq._ Faith, boldly; strongly defies defame, as one that has a duke to her father. And (45) there ’s a note to you: be sure of a stout friend in a corner, that may always awe your husband. Mark the behaviour of the duchess now: she dares defame, cries, “Duke, do what thou canst, I ’ll quit mine honour:” nay, as one (50) confirmed in her own virtue against ten thousand mouths that mutter her disgrace, she ’s presently for dances.

_Enter_ FERRARDO.

_Bian._ For dances!

_Maq._ Most true. 55

_Emil._ Most strange. See, here ’s my servant,[2737] young Ferrardo. How many servants thinkest thou I have, Maquerelle?[2738]

_Maq._ The more, the merrier. ’T was well (59) said, use your servants as you do your smocks; have many, use one, and change often; for that ’s most sweet and courtlike.

_Fer._ Save ye, fair ladies! Is the duke return’d?

_Bian._ Sweet sir, no voice of him as yet in court.

_Fer._ ’T is very strange. 65

_Bian._ And how like you my servant, Maquerelle?

_Maq._ I think he could hardly draw Ulysses’ bow; but, by my fidelity, were his nose narrower, his eyes broader, his hands thinner, (69) his lips thicker, his legs bigger, his feet lesser, his hair blacker, and his teeth whiter, he were a tolerable sweet youth, i’ faith. And he will come to my chamber, I will read him the fortune of his beard. _Cornets sound._ 74

_Fer._ Not yet return’d! I fear—but the duchess approacheth.