SCENE II.

_Chamber of Maria._

_Enter two Pages with torches_; MARIA, _her hair loose, and_ NUTRICHE.

_Nut._ Fie, fie; to-morrow your wedding day, and weep! God's my comfort! Andrugio could do well: Piero may do better. I have had four husbands myself. The first I called, sweet duck; the second, dear heart; the third, pretty pug;[279] but the fourth, most sweet, dear, pretty, all in all; he was the very cockall of a husband. What, lady? your skin is smooth, your blood warm, your cheek fresh, your eye quick: change of pasture makes fat calves; choice of linen clean bodies, and (no question) variety of husbands perfect wives. I would you should know it: as few teeth as I have in my head, I have read _Aristotle's Problems_,[280] which saith that woman receiveth perfection by the man. What then be the men? Go to, to bed, lie on your back, dream not on Piero; I say no more. To-morrow is your wedding: go,[281] dream not of Piero. 16

_Enter_ BALURDO _with a base viol_.

_Mar._ What an idle prate thou keep'st, good nurse; go sleep. I have a mighty task of tears to weep.

_Bal._ Lady, with a most retort and obtuse leg, I kiss the curlèd locks of your loose hair. 20 The Duke hath sent you the most musical Sir Jeffrey, with his not base, but most ennobled viol, to rock your baby thoughts in the cradle of sleep.

_Mar._ I give the noble Duke respective[282] thanks.

_Bal._ Respective; truly a very pretty word. Indeed, madam, I have the most respective fiddle; did you ever smell a more sweet sound? My ditty must go thus; very witty, I assure you: I myself in an humorous passion made it, to the tune of my mistress Nutriche's beauty. Indeed, very pretty, very retort, and obtuse, I'll assure you; 'tis thus:-- 31

My mistress' eye doth oil my joints, And makes my fingers nimble: O love, come on, untruss your points, My fiddlestick wants rozen. My lady's duggs are all so smooth, That no flesh must them handle: Her eyes do shine, for to say sooth, Like a new-snuffèd candle.

_Mar._ Truly, very pathetical and unvulgar. 40

_Bal._ Pathetical and unvulgar; words of worth, excellent words. In sooth, madam, I have taken a murr,[283] which makes my nose run most pathetically, and unvulgarly. Have you any tobacco?

_Mar._ Good Signior, your song.

_Bal._ Instantly, most unvulgarly, at your service. Truly, here's the most pathetical rozen. Umh.

[_A Song._

_Mar._ In sooth, most knightly sung, and like Sir Jeffrey.

_Bal._ Why, look you, lady, I was made a knight only for my voice; and a councillor only for my wit. 51

_Mar._ I believe it. Good night, gentle sir, good night.

_Bal._ You will give me leave to take my leave of my mistress, and I will do it most famously in rhyme.

Farewell, adieu! saith thy love true, As to part loath. Time bids us part, mine own sweet heart, God bless us both.

[_Exit_ BALURDO.

_Mar._ Good night, Nutriche. Pages, leave the room. The life of night grows short, 'tis almost dead. 60

[_Exeunt Pages and_ NUTRICHE.

O thou cold widow-bed, sometime thrice blest By the warm pressure of my sleeping lord, Open thy leaves, and whilst on thee I tread, Groan out,--Alas, my dear Andrugio's dead!

[MARIA _draweth the curtain: and the ghost of_ ANDRUGIO _is displayed, sitting on the bed_.

Amazing terror, what portent is this!

_Ghost of And._ Disloyal to our hymeneal[284] rites, What raging heat reigns in thy strumpet blood? Hast thou so soon forgot Andrugio? Are our love-bands so quickly cancellèd? Where lives thy plighted faith unto this breast? 70 O weak Maria! Go to, calm thy fears. I pardon thee, poor soul! O shed no tears; Thy sex is weak. That black incarnate fiend May trip thy faith that hath o'erthrown my life: I was impoison'd by Piero's hand. Join with my son to bend up strain'd revenge, Maintain a seeming favour to his suit, Till time may form our vengeance absolute.

_Enter_ ANTONIO, _his arms bloody, bearing a torch, and a poniard_.

_Ant._ See, unamazed I will behold thy face; Outstare the terror of thy grim aspect, 80 Daring the horrid'st object of the night. Look how I smoke in blood, reeking the steam Of foaming vengeance. O my soul's enthroned In the triumphant chariot of revenge! Methinks I am all air, and feel no weight Of human dirt clog. This is Julio's blood! Rich music, father: this is Julio's blood! Why lives that mother?

_Ghost of And._ Pardon ignorance. Fly, dear Antonio: Once more assume disguise, and dog the court 90 In feignèd habit, till Piero's blood May even o'erflow the brim of full revenge. Peace and all blessèd fortunes to you both! Fly thou from court, be peerless in revenge:

[_Exit_ ANTONIO.

Sleep thou in rest, lo, here I close thy couch.

[_Exit_ MARIA _to her bed_, ANDRUGIO _drawing the curtains_.

And now ye sooty coursers of the night, Hurry your chariot into hell's black womb. Darkness, make flight; graves, eat your dead again: Let's repossess our shrouds. Why lags delay? Mount sparkling brightness, give the world his day! 100

[_Exit_ ANDRUGIO.

[279] A common term for endearment.

[280] _The Problemes of Aristotle, with other Philosophers and Phisitions, wherein are contayned diuers questions, with their answers, touching the estate of man's bodie_, 1595, 1597, &c.--an old chap-book.

[281] Old eds. "do."

[282] Respectful.

[283] Violent cold.

[284] Ed. 1602 "Hymniall."