ACT IV

[SCENE I.][4308]

_Enter two men leading_ KICKSHAW _blinded, and go off suddenly_.

_Kick._ I am not hurt; my patience to obey ’em, Not without fear to ha’ my throat cut else, Did me a courtesy. Whither ha’ they brought me? [_Pulls off a bandage._] ’T is devilish dark; the bottom of a well At midnight, with but two stars on the top, 5 Were broad day to this darkness. I but think How like a whirlwind these rogues caught me up, And smothered my eyesight. Let me see, These may be spirits, and, for aught I know, Have brought me hither over twenty steeples. 10 Pray Heaven they were not bailiffs! that ’s more worth My fear, and this a prison. All my debts Reek in my nostril, and my bones begin To ache with fear to be made dice; and yet This is too calm and quiet for a prison.— 15 What if the riddle prove I am robb’d? And yet I did not feel ’em search me. How now! music! [_Music within._] _Enter_ DECOY, _like an old_ Woman, _with a light_. And a light! What beldam ’s this? I cannot pray.— What art?

_Dec._ A friend. Fear not, young man, I am No spirit.

_Kick._ Off!

_Dec._ Despise me not for age, 20 Or this coarse outside, which I wear not out Of poverty. Thy eyes be witness, ’t is No cave, or beggar’s cell, th’ art brought to; let That gold speak here ’s no want, which thou mayst spend, And find a spring to tire even prodigality, 25 If thou be’st wise. [_Gives him a purse._]

_Kick._ The devil was a coiner From the beginning; yet the gold looks current.

_Dec._ Th’ art still in wonder: know, I am mistress of This house, and of a fortune that shall serve And feed thee with delights; ’t was I sent for thee; 30 The jewel and the letter came from me. It was my art thus to contrive our meeting, Because I would not trust thee with my fame, Until I found thee worth a woman’s honour.

_Kick_ [_Aside._] Honour and fame! the devil means to have 35 A care on ’s credit. Though she sent for me, I hope she has another customer To do the trick withal; I would not turn Familiar to a witch.

_Dec._ What say’st? Canst thou Dwell in my arms to-night? Shall we change kisses, 40 And entertain the silent hours with pleasure, Such as old Time shall be delighted with, And blame the too swift motion of his wings, While we embrace?

_Kick._ [_Aside._] Embrace! She has had no teeth This twenty years, and the next violent cough 45 Brings up her tongue; it cannot possibly Be sound at root. I do not think but one Strong sneeze upon her, and well meant, would make Her quarters fall away; one kick would blow 49 Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs. She is so cold, an incubus would not heat her; Her phlegm would quench a furnace, and her breath Would damp a musket bullet.

_Dec._ Have you, sir, Consider’d?

_Kick._ What?

_Dec._ My proposition. 54 Canst love?

_Kick._ I could have done; whom do you mean? I know you are pleas’d but to make sport.

_Dec._ Thou art not So dull of soul as thou appear’st.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] This is But some device; my grannam has some trick in ’t.— Yes, I can love.

_Dec._ But canst thou affect me?

_Kick._ Although to reverence so grave a matron 60 Were an ambitious word in me, yet since You give me boldness, I do love you.

_Dec._ Then Thou art my own.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] Has she no cloven foot?

_Dec._ And I am thine, and all that I command Thy servants; from this minute thou art happy, And fate in thee will crown all my desires. 66 I griev’d a proper man should be compell’d To bring his body to the common market. My wealth shall make thee glorious; and, the more To encourage thee, howe’er this form may fright 70 Thy youthful eyes, yet thou wo’t find, by light Of thy own sense, for other light is banish’d My chamber, when our arms tie lovers’ knots, And kisses seal the welcome of our lips, I shall not there affright thee, nor seem old, 75 With rivell’d[4309] veins; my skin is smooth and soft As ermines, with a spirit to meet thine, Active, and equal to the Queen of Love’s When she did court Adonis.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] This doth more Confirm she is a devil, and I am 80 Within his own dominions. I must on, Or else be torn, a’ pieces. I have heard These succubae must not be crost.

_Dec._ We trifle Too precious time away; I’ll show you a prospect Of the next chamber, and then out the candle. 85

_Kick._ Have you no sack i’ th’ house? I would go arm’d Upon this breach.

_Dec._ It sh’ not need.

_Kick._ One word. Mother; have not you been a cat in your days?

_Dec._ I am glad you are so merry, sir. You observe That bed? [_Opens a door._]

_Kick._ A very brave one.

_Dec._ When you are 90 Disrob’d, you can come thither in the dark. You sha’ not stay for me? Come, as you wish For happiness. _Exit._

_Kick._ I am preferr’d, if I Be modest and obey: she cannot have 94 The heart to do me harm, an she were Hecate Herself. I will have a strong faith, and think I march upon a mistress, the less evil. If I scape fire now, I defy the devil. _Exit._

[SCENE II.][4310]

_Enter_ FREDERICK [_gaily dressed_,] LITTLEWORTH, _and_ Steward.

_Fred._ And how d’ye like me now?

_Stew._ Most excellent.

_Fred._ Your opinion, Master Littleworth.

_Little._ Your French tailor Has made you a perfect gentleman; I may Converse now with you, and preserve my credit. D’ye find no alteration in your body 5 With these new clothes?

_Fred._ My body alter’d? No.

_Little._ You are not yet in fashion then. That must Have a new motion, garb, and posture too, Or all your pride is cast away; it is not The cut of your apparel makes a gallant, 10 But the geometrical wearing of your clothes.

_Stew._ Master Littleworth tells you right; you wear your hat Too like a citizen.

_Little._ ’T is like a midwife; Place it with best advantage of your hair. 14 Is half your feather moulted? This does make No show; it should spread over, like a canopy; Your hot-rein’d monsieur wears it for a shade And cooler to his back. Your doublet must Be more unbutton’d hereabouts; you’ll not Be a sloven else, a foul shirt is no blemish; 20 You must be confident, and outface clean linen. Your doublet and your breeches must be allow’d No private meeting here: your cloak’s too long. It reaches to your buttock, and doth smell Too much of Spanish gravity; the fashion 25 Is to wear nothing but a cape; a coat May be allow’d a covering for one elbow, And some, to avoid the trouble, choose to walk In _querpo_,[4311] thus.

_Stew._ [_Aside._] Your coat and cloak’s a brushing In Long-Lane, Lombard.[4312]

_Fred._ But what if it rain? 30

_Little._ Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient To keep off any storm; beside, a reed But wav’d discreetly, has so many pores, It sucks up all the rain that falls about one. 34 With this defence, when other men have been Wet to the skin through all their cloaks, I have Defied a tempest, and walk’d by the taverns Dry as a bone.

_Stew._ [_Aside._] Because he had no money To call for wine.

_Fred._ Why, do you walk enchanted? Have you such pretty charms in town? But stay; 40 Who must I have to attend me?

_Little._ Is not that Yet thought upon?

_Stew._ I have laid out[4313] for servants.

_Little._ They are everywhere.

_Stew._ I cannot yet be furnish’d With such as I would put into his hands.

_Fred._ Of what condition must they be, and how 45 Many in number, sir?

_Little._ Beside your fencing, Your singing, dancing, riding, and French master, Two may serve domestic, to be constant waiters Upon a gentleman; a fool, a pimp.

_Stew._ For these two officers I have enquir’d, And I am promis’d a convenient whiskin.[4314] 51 I could save charges, and employ the pie-wench. That carries her intelligence in whitepots;[4315] Or ’t is but taking order[4316] with the woman That [trolls][4317] the ballads, she could fit him with 55 A concubine to any tune; but I Have a design to place a fellow with him That has read all Sir Pandarus’ works; a Trojan[4318] That lies conceal’d, and is acquainted with Both city and suburban fripperies,[4319] 60 Can fetch ’em with a spell at midnight to him, And warrant which are for his turn; can, for A need, supply the surgeon too.

_Fred._ I like thy providence;[4320] such a one deserves A livery twice a year. 65

_Stew._ It sha’ not need; a cast suit of your worship’s Will serve; he’ll find a cloak to cover it, Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you.

_Fred._ But must I call this fellow pimp?

_Little._ It is Not necessary; [Tom,] or Jack, or Harry, 70 Or what he ’s known abroad by, will sound better, That men may think he is a Christian.

_Fred._ But hear you, Master Littleworth: is there not A method and degrees of title in Men of this art?

_Little._ According to the honour 75 Of men that do employ ’em. An emperor May give this office to a duke; a king May have his viceroy to negociate for him; A duke may use a lord; the lord a knight, A knight may trust a gentleman; and when 80 They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen May pimp to one another.

_Fred._ Good, good fellowship! But for the fool now, that should wait on me, And break me jests?

_Little._ A fool is necessary.

_Stew._ By any[4321] means.

_Fred._ But which of these two servants 85 Must now take place?[4322]

_Little._ That question, Master Frederick, The school of heraldry should conclude upon: But if my judgment may be heard, the fool Is your first man; and it is known a point Of state to have a fool.

_Stew._ But, sir, the other 90 Is held the finer servant; his employments Are full of trust, his person clean and nimble, And none so soon can leap into preferment, Where fools are poor.

_Little._ Not all; there’s story for’t; Princes have been no wiser than they should be. Would any nobleman, that were no fool, 95 Spend all in hope of the philosopher’s stone, To buy new lordships in another country? Would knights build colleges, or gentlemen Of good estates challenge the field, and fight, 100 Because a whore wo’ not be honest? Come, Fools are a family over all the world; We do affect one naturally; indeed The fool is leiger[4323] with us.

_Stew._ Then the pimp Is extraordinary.

_Fred._ Do not you fall out 105 About their places.—Here’s my noble aunt!

_Enter_ LADY BORNWELL.

_Little._ How do you like your nephew, madam, now?

_Lady B._ Well!—Turn about, Frederick.— Very well!

_Fred._ Am I not now a proper gentleman? The virtue of rich clothes! Now could I take The wall of Julius Caesar, or affront 111 Great Pompey’s upper lip, and defy the senate. Nay, I can be as proud as your own heart, madam, You may take that for your comfort; I put on That virtue with my clothes, and I doubt not But in a little time I shall be impudent 116 As any page, or player’s boy. I am Beholding to this gentleman’s good discipline; But I shall do him credit in my practice. Your steward has some pretty notions, too, 120 In moral mischief.

_Lady B._ Your desert in this Exceeds all other service, and shall bind me Both to acknowledge and reward.

_Little._ Sweet madam, Think me but worth your favour; I would creep Upon my knees to honour you, and for every 125 Minute you lend to my reward, I’ll pay A year of serviceable tribute.

_Lady B._ You Can compliment.

_Little._ (_Aside._) Thus still she puts me off; Unless I speak the downright word, she’ll never Understand me. A man would think that creeping 130 Upon one’s knees were English to a lady.

_Enter_ KICKSHAW.

_Kick._ How is’t, Jack.—Pleasures attend you, madam! How does my plant of honour?

_Lady B._ Who is this?

_Kick._ ’T is Alexander.

_Lady B._ Rich and glorious!

_Little._ ’T is Alexander the Great.

_Kick._ And my Bucephalus 135 Waits at the door.

_Lady B._ Your case is alter’d, sir.

_Kick._ I cannot help these things, the Fates will have it; ’T is not my land does this.

_Little._ But thou hast a plough That brings it in.

_Lady B._ Now he looks brave and lovely.

_Fred._ Welcome, my gallant Macedonian, 140

_Kick._ Madam, you gave your nephew for my pupil. I read[4324] but in a tavern; if you’ll honour us, The Bear at the Bridge foot shall entertain you. A drawer[4325] is my Ganymede, he shall skink[4326] Brisk nectar to us; we will only have 145 A dozen partridge in a dish; as many pheasants, Quails, cocks, and godwits shall come marching up Like the train’d-band;[4327] a fort of sturgeon Shall give most bold defiance to an army, And triumph o’er the table.—

_Lady B._ Sir, it will 150 But dull the appetite to hear more, and mine Must be excus’d. Another time I may be Your guest.

_Kick._ ’T is grown in fashion now with ladies; When you please, I ’ll attend you. Littleworth.— Come, Frederick.

_Fred._ We ’ll have music; I love noise. 155 We will outroar the Thames, and shake the bridge, boy. _Exit_ [_with_ KICKSHAW].

_Little._ Madam, I kiss your hand; would you would think Of your poor servant: flesh and blood is frail, And troublesome to carry, without help.

_Lady B._ A coach will easily convey it, or 160 You may take water at Strand Bridge.

_Little._ But I Have taken fire.

_Lady B._ The Thames will cool [it, sir].

_Little._ But never quench my heart; your charity Can only do that.

_Lady B._ I will keep it cold Of purpose.

_Little._ Now you bless me, and I dare 165 Be drunk in expectation. [_Exit._]

_Lady B._ I am confident He knows me not, and I were worse than mad To be my own betrayer.—Here ’s my husband.

_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.

_Born._ Why, how now, Aretina? What! alone? The mystery of this solitude? My house 170 Turn desert o’ the sudden! All the gamesters Blown up! Why is the music put to silence? Or have their instruments caught a cold, since we Gave ’em the last heat? I must know thy ground Of melancholy.

_Lady B._ You are merry, as 175 You came from kissing Celestina.

_Born._ I Feel her yet warm upon my lip; she is Most excellent company: I did not think There was that sweetness in her sex. I must Acknowledge, ’t was thy cure to disenchant me 180 From a dull husband to an active lover. With such a lady I could spend more years Than since my birth my glass hath run soft minutes, And yet be young; her presence hath a spell To keep off age; she has an eye would strike 185 Fire through an adamant.

_Lady B._ I have heard as much Bestow’d upon a dull-fac’d chambermaid, Whom love and wit would thus commend. True beauty Is mock’d when we compare thus, itself being Above what can be fetch’d[4328] to make it lovely; Or,[4329] could our thoughts reach something to declare 191 The glories of a face, or body’s elegance (That touches but our sense), when beauty spreads Over the soul, and calls up understanding To look [what][4330] thence is offer’d, and admire! 195 In both I must acknowledge Celestina Most excellently fair, fair above all The beauties I ha’ seen, and one most worthy Man’s love and wonder.

_Born._ Do you speak, Aretina, This with a pure sense to commend? Or is ’t 200 The mockery of my praise?

_Lady B._ Although it shame Myself, I must be just, and give her all The excellency of women; and were I A man—

_Born._ What then?

_Lady B._ I know not with what loss I should attempt her love. She is a piece 205 So angelically moving, I should think Frailty excus’d to dote upon her form, And almost virtue to be wicked with her. _Exit._

_Born._ What should this mean? This is no jealousy, Or she believes I counterfeit. I feel 210 Something within me, like a heat, to give Her cause, would Celestina but consent. What a frail thing is man! It is not worth Our glory to be chaste, while we deny Mirth and converse with women. He is good 215 That dares the tempter, yet corrects his blood. _Exit._

[SCENE III.][4331]

[_Enter_] CELESTINA, MARIANA, _and_ ISABELLA.

_Cel._ I have told you all my knowledge: since he is pleas’d To invite himself, he shall be entertain’d, And you shall be my witnesses.

_Mar._ Who comes with him?

_Cel._ Sir William Scentlove, that prepar’d me for The honourable encounter. I expect 5 His lordship every minute.

_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE.

_Scent._ My lord is come.

_Cel._ He has honour’d me.

_Enter_ Lord—_and_ HAIRCUT.

_Scent._ My Lord, your periwig is awry.

_Lord._ You, sir— _While_ HAIRCUT _is busy about his hair_, SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _goes to_ CELESTINA.

_Scent._ You may guess at the gentleman that ’s with him. It is his barber, madam, d’ ye observe? An your ladyship wants a shaver.

_Hair._ She is here, sir. 10 I am betray’d.—Scentlove, your plot. I may Have opportunity to be reveng’d. _Exit._

_Scent._ She in the midst.

_Lord._ She ’s fair, I must confess; But does she keep this distance out of state?

_Cel._ Though I am poor in language to express 15 How much your lordship honours me, my heart Is rich and proud in such a guest. I shall Be out of love with every air abroad, And for his grace done my unworthy house, Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite, 20 And spend my hours in prayer, to reward The blessing and the bounty of this presence.

_Lord._ Though you could turn each place you move in to A temple, rather than a wall should hide So rich a beauty from the world, it were 25 Less want to lose our piety and your prayer. A throne were fitter to present you to Our wonder, whence your eyes, more worth than all They look on, should chain every heart a prisoner.

_Scent._ ’T was pretty well come off.

_Lord._ By your example 30 I shall know how to compliment; in this, You more confirm my welcome.

_Cel._ I shall love My lips the better, if their silent language Persuade your lordship but to think so truly.

_Lord._ You make me smile, madam.

_Cel._ I hope you came not 35 With fear that any sadness here should shake One blossom from your eye. I should be miserable To present any object should displease you.

_Lord._ You do not, madam.

_Cel._ As I should account It no less sorrow, if your lordship should 40 Lay too severe a censure on my freedom. I wo’ not court a prince against his justice, Nor bribe him with a smile to think me honest. Pardon, my lord, this boldness, and the mirth That may flow from me. I believe my father 45 Thought of no winding-sheet when he begot me.

_Lord._ She has a merry soul.—It will become Me ask your pardon, madam, for my rude Approach, so much a stranger to your knowledge.

_Cel._ Not, my lord, so much stranger to my knowledge; 50 Though I have but seen your person afar off, I am acquainted with your character, Which I have heard so often, I can speak it.

_Lord._ You shall do me an honour.

_Cel._ If your lordship will Be patient.

_Lord._ And glad to hear my faults. 55

_Cel._ That as your conscience can agree upon ’em; However, if your lordship give me privilege, I’ll tell you what’s the opinion of the world.

_Lord._ You cannot please me better.

_Cel._ Y’are a lord Born with as much nobility as would, 59 Divided, serve to make ten noblemen, Without a herald; but with so much spirit And height of soul, as well might furnish twenty. You are learn’d, a thing not compatible now With native honour; and are master of 65 A language that doth chain all ears,[4332] and charm All hearts, where you persuade; a wit so flowing, And prudence to correct it, that all men Believe they only meet in you, which, with 69 A spacious memory, make up the full wonders: To these you have [joined][4333] valour and upon A noble cause, know how to use a sword To honour’s best advantage, though you wear[4334] none. You are as bountiful as the showers that fall Into the spring’s green bosom; as you were 75 Created lord of Fortune, not her steward; So constant to the cause in which you make Yourself an advocate, you dare all dangers; And men had rather you should be their friend, Than justice or the bench bound up together. 80

_Lord._ But did you hear all this?

_Cel._ And more, my lord.

_Lord._ Pray let me have it, madam.

_Cel._ To all these virtues there is added one,— (Your lordship will remember, when I name it, I speak but what I gather from the voice 85 Of others)—it is grown to a full fame That you have lov’d a woman.

_Lord._ But one, madam?

_Cel._ Yes, many; give me leave to smile, my lord, I shall not need to interpret in what sense; But you have show’d yourself right honourable, 90 And, for your love to ladies, have deserv’d, If their vote might prevail, a marble statue. I make no comment on the people’s text,— My lord, I should be sorry to offend.

_Lord._ You cannot, madam; these are things we owe 95 To nature for.

_Cel._ And honest men will pay Their debts.

_Lord._ If they be able, or compound.

_Cel._ She had a hard heart would be unmerciful, And not give day to men so promising; But you ow’d women nothing.

_Lord._ Yes, I am 100 Still in their debt, and I must owe them love, It was part of my character.

_Cel._ With your lordship’s Pardon, I only said you had a fame For loving women; but of late, men say You have, against the imperial laws of love, 105 Restrain’d the active flowings of your blood, And with a mistress buried all that is Hop’d for in love’s succession, as all beauty Had died with her, and left the world benighted! In this you more dishonour all our sex 110 Than you did grace a part; when everywhere Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest, And everywhere as full blown ears submit Their golden heads, the laden trees bow down Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting. 115

_Lord._ I see men would dissect me to a fibre; But do you believe this?

_Cel._ It is my wonder, I must confess, a man of nobler earth Than goes to vulgar composition, (Born and bred high, so unconfin’d, so rich 120 In fortunes, and so read in all that sum Up human knowledge, to feed gloriously, And live at court, the only sphere wherein True beauty moves, nature’s most wealthy garden, Where every blossom is more worth than all 125 The Hesperian fruit by jealous dragon watch’d, Where all delights do circle appetite, And pleasures multiply by being tasted,) Should be so lost with thought of one turn’d ashes. There’s nothing left, my lord, that can excuse you, 130 Unless you plead, what I am asham’d to prompt Your wisdom to?

_Lord._ What ’s that?

_Cel._ That you have play’d The surgeon with yourself.

_Lord._ And am made eunuch?

_Cel._ It were much pity.

_Lord._ Trouble not yourself, I could convince your fears with demonstration 135 That I am man enough, but knew not where, Until this meeting, beauty dwelt. The court You talk’d of must be where the Queen of Love is, Which moves but with your person; in your eye Her glory shines, and only at that flame 140 Her wanton boy doth light his quick’ning torch.

_Cel._ Nay, now you compliment; I would it did, My lord, for your own sake.

_Lord._ You would be kind, And love me then?

_Cel._ My lord, I should be loving, Where I found worth to invite it, and should cherish 145 A constant man.

_Lord._ Then you should me, madam.

_Cel._ But is the ice about your heart fallen off? Can you return to do what love commands?— Cupid, thou shalt have instant sacrifice, And I dare be the priest.

_Lord._ Your hand, your lip; [_Kisses her._] 150 Now I am proof ’gainst all temptation.

_Cel._ Your meaning, my good lord?

_Lord._ I, that have strength Against thy voice and beauty, after this May dare the charms of womankind.—Thou art, Bella Maria, unprofaned yet; 155 This magic has no power upon my blood.— Farewell, madam! if you durst be the example Of chaste as well as fair, thou wert a brave one.

_Cel._ I hope your lordship means not this for earnest; Be pleas’d to grace a banquet.

_Lord._ Pardon, madam.— 160 Will Scentlove, follow; I must laugh at you.

_Cel._ My lord, I must beseech you stay, for honour, For her whose memory you love best.

_Lord._ Your pleasure.

_Cel._ And by that virtue you have now profest, I charge you to believe me too; I can 165 Now glory that you have been worth my trial, Which, I beseech you, pardon. Had not you So valiantly recover’d in this conflict, You had been my triumph, without hope of more Than my just scorn upon your wanton flame; Nor will I think these noble thoughts grew first 171 From melancholy, for some female loss, As the fantastic world believes, but from Truth, and your love of innocence, which shine So bright in the two royal luminaries[4335] 175 At court, you cannot lose your way to chastity. Proceed, and speak of me as honour guides you. _Exit_ LORD. I am almost tir’d.—Come, ladies, we ’ll beguile Dull time, and take the air another while. _Exeunt._