SCENE V.[1629

[_Enter_] CORVINO, [_with his sword in his hand, dragging in_] CELIA.

_Corv._ Death of mine honour, with the city’s fool! A juggling, tooth-drawing, prating mountebank! And at a public windore! where, whilst he, With his strain’d action, and his dole of faces,[1630] To his drug-lecture draws your itching ears, 5 A crew of old, unmarri’d, noted lechers, Stood leering up like satyrs: and you smile Most graciously, and fan your favours forth, To give your hot spectators satisfaction! What, was your mountbank their call? their whistle? 10 Or were you enamour’d on his copper rings, His saffron jewel, with the toad-stone in ’t, Or his embroid’red suit, with the cope-stitch, Made of a hearse cloth? or his old tilt-feather? Or his starch’d beard! Well, you shall have him, yes! 15 He shall come home, and minister unto you The fricace for the mother.[1631] Or, let me see, I think you ’d rather mount; would you not mount? Why, if you ’ll mount, you may; yes, truly, you may! And so you may be seen, down to the foot. 20 Get you a cittern, Lady Vanity, And be a dealer with the virtuous man; Make one. I ’ll but protest myself a cuckold, And save your dowry. I ’m a Dutchman, I! For if you thought me an Italian, 25 You would be damn’d ere you did this, you whore! Thou ’dst tremble to imagine that the murder Of father, mother, brother, all thy race, Should follow, as the subject of my justice.

_Cel._ Good sir, have patience.

_Corv._ What couldst thou propose[1632] 30 Less to thyself, than in this heat of wrath, And stung with my dishonour, I should strike This steel into thee, with as many stabs As thou wert gaz’d upon with goatish eyes?

_Cel._ Alas, sir, be appeas’d! I could not think My being at the windore should more now 36 Move your impatience than at other times.

_Corv._ No! not to seek and entertain a parley With a known knave, before a multitude! You were an actor with your handkerchief, 40 Which he most sweetly kist in the receipt, And might, no doubt, return it with a letter, And point the place where you might meet; your sister’s, Your mother’s, or your aunt’s might serve the turn.

_Cel._ Why, dear sir, when do I make these excuses, 45 Or ever stir abroad, but to the church? And that so seldom——

_Corv._ Well, it shall be less; And thy restraint before was liberty, To what I now decree: and therefore mark me. First, I will have this bawdy light damm’d up: 50 And till ’t be done, some two or three yards off, I’ll chalk a line; o’er which if thou but chance To set thy desp’rate foot, more hell, more horror, More wild remorseless rage shall seize on thee, Than on a conjuror that had heedless left 55 His circle’s safety ere his devil was laid. Then here’s a lock which I will hang upon thee, And, now I think on ’t, I will keep thee backwards; Thy lodging shall be backwards: thy walks backwards; Thy prospect, all be backwards; and no pleasure, 60 That thou shalt know but backwards: nay, since you force My honest nature, know, it is your own, Being too open, makes me use you thus: Since you will not contain your subtle nostrils In a sweet room, but they must snuff the air 65 Of rank and sweaty passengers. (_Knock within._) One knocks. Away, and be not seen, pain of thy life; Nor look toward the windore; if thou dost—— Nay, stay, hear this——let me not prosper, whore, But I will make thee an anatomy, 70 Dissect thee mine own self, and read a lecture Upon thee to the city, and in public. Away!— [_Exit_ CELIA.] [_Enter_ SERVANT.] Who ’s there?

_Ser._ ’T is Signior Mosca, sir.