SCENE I.

_Palace of the Duke of Venice._

_Enter_ CATZO, _with a capon eating_; DILDO _following him_.

_Dil._ Hah, Catzo, your master wants a clean trencher: do you hear? Balurdo calls for your diminutive attendance.

_Cat._ The belly hath no ears,[77] Dildo.

_Dil._ Good pug,[78] give me some capon.

_Cat._ No capon, no not a bit, ye smooth bully;[78] capon's no meat for Dildo: milk, milk, ye glibbery urchin, is food for infants.

_Dil._ Upon mine honour.

_Cat._ Your honour with a paugh! 'slid, now every jackanapes loads his back with the golden coat of honour; every ass puts on the lion's skin and roars his honour. Upon your honour? By my lady's pantable,[79] I fear I shall live to hear a vintner's boy cry, "'Tis rich neat canary." Upon my honour! 14

_Dil._ My stomach's up.

_Cat._ I think thou art hungry.

_Dil._ The match of fury is lighted, fastened to the linstock[80] of rage, and will presently set fire to the touch-hole of intemperance, discharging the double culverin of my incensement in the face of thy opprobrious speech.

_Cat._ I'll stop the barrel thus: good Dildo, set not fire to the touch-hole. 22

_Dil._ My rage is stopp'd, and I will eat to the health of the fool, thy master Castilio.

_Cat._ And I will suck the juice of the capon, to the health of the idiot, thy master Balurdo.

_Dil._ Faith, our masters are like a case[81] of rapiers sheathed in one scabbard of folly.

_Cat._ Right Dutch blades. But was't not rare sport at the sea-battle, whilst rounce robble hobble roared from the ship-sides, to view our masters pluck their plumes and drop their feathers, for fear of being men of mark. 32

_Dil._ 'Slud (cried Signior Balurdo), O for Don Rosicleer's[82] armour, in the _Mirror of Knighthood_! what coil's here? O for an armour, cannon-proof! O, more cable, more featherbeds![83] more featherbeds, more cable! till he had as much as my cable-hatband[84] to fence him.

_Enter_ FLAVIA _in haste, with a rebato_.[85]

_Cat._ Buxom Flavia, can you sing? song, song!

_Fla._ My sweet Dildo, I am not for you at this time: Madam Rossaline stays for a fresh ruff to appear in the presence: sweet, away. 41

_Dil._ 'Twill not be so put off, delicate, delicious, spark-eyed, sleek-skinn'd, slender-waisted, clean-legg'd, rarely-shaped--

_Fla._ Who? I'll be at all your service another season: my faith, there's reason in all things.

_Dil._ Would I were reason then, that I might be in all things.

_Cat._ The breve and the semiquaver is, we must have the descant you made upon our names, ere you depart.

_Fla._ Faith, the song will seem to come off hardly. 51

_Cat._ Troth not a wit, if you seem to come off quickly.

_Fla._ Pert Catzo, knock[86] it lustily then.

[_A song._

_Enter_ FOROBOSCO, _with two torches_: CASTILIO _singing fantastically_; ROSSALINE _running a coranto[87] pace, and_ BALURDO; FELICHE _following, wondering at them all_.

_Foro._ Make place, gentlemen; pages, hold torches; the prince approacheth the presence.

_Dil._ What squeaking cart-wheel have we here? ha! "Make place, gentlemen; pages, hold torches; the prince approacheth the presence."

_Ros._ Faugh, what a strong scent's here! somebody useth to wear socks. 60

_Bal._ By this fair candle light, 'tis not my feet; I never wore socks since I sucked pap.

_Ros._ Savourly put off.

_Cast._ Hah, her wit stings, blisters, galls off the skin with the tart acrimony of her sharp quickness: by sweetness, she is the very Pallas that flew out of Jupiter's brainpan. Delicious creature, vouchsafe me your service: by the purity of bounty, I shall be proud of such bondage.

_Ros._ I vouchsafe it; be my slave.--Signior Balurdo, wilt thou be my servant, too? 70

_Bal._ O God,[88] forsooth in very good earnest, law, you would make me as a man should say, as a man should say--

_Feli._ 'Slud, sweet beauty, will you deign him your service?

_Ros._ O, your fool is your only servant. But, good Feliche, why art thou so sad? a penny for thy thought, man.

_Feli._ I sell not my thought so cheap: I value my meditation at a higher rate. 80

_Bal._ In good sober sadness, sweet mistress, you should have had my thought for a penny: by this crimson satin that cost eleven shillings, thirteen pence, three pence halfpenny a yard, that you should, law!

_Ros._ What was thy thought, good servant?

_Bal._ Marry forsooth, how many strike of pease would feed a hog fat against Christtide.

_Ros._ Paugh! [_she spits_] servant,[89] rub out my rheum, it soils the presence.

_Cast._ By my wealthiest thought, you grace my shoe with an unmeasured honour: I will preserve the sole of it, as a most sacred relic for this service. 92

_Ros._ I'll spit in thy mouth, and thou wilt, to grace thee.

_Feli._ [_Aside._] O that the stomach of this queasy age Digests, or brooks such raw unseasoned gobs, And vomits not them forth! O! slavish sots! Servant, quoth you? faugh! if a dog should crave And beg her service, he should have it straight: She'd give him favours too, to lick her feet, Or fetch her fan, or some such drudgery: 100 A good dog's office, which these amorists Triumph of: 'tis rare, well give her more ass, More sot, as long as dropping of her nose Is sworn rich pearl by such low slaves as those.

_Ros._ Flavia, attend me to attire me.

[_Exeunt_ ROSSALINE _and_ FLAVIA.

_Bal._ In sad good earnest, sir, you have touched the very bare of naked truth; my silk stocking hath a good gloss, and I thank my planets, my leg is not altogether unpropitiously shaped. There's a word: unpropitiously? I think I shall speak unpropitiously as well as any courtier in Italy. 111

_Foro._ So help me your sweet bounty, you have the most graceful presence, applausive elecuty, amazing volubility, polish'd adornation, delicious affability.

_Feli._ Whoop: fut, how he tickles yon trout under the gills! you shall see him take him by and by with groping flattery.

_Foro._ That ever ravish'd the ear of wonder. By your sweet self, than whom I know not a more exquisite, illustrate, accomplished, pure, respected, adored, observed, precious, real,[90] magnanimous, bounteous--if you have an idle rich cast jerkin, or so, it shall not be cast away, if--ha! here's a forehead, an eye, a head, a hair, that would make a--: or if you have any spare pair of silver spurs, I'll do you as much right in all kind offices--

_Feli._ [_Aside._] Of a kind parasite.

_Foro._ As any of my mean fortunes shall be able to.

_Bal._ As I am true Christian now, thou hast won the spurs.

_Feli._ [_Aside._] For flattery. 130 O how I hate that same Egyptian louse, A rotten maggot, that lives by stinking filth Of tainted spirits! vengeance to such dogs, That sprout by gnawing senseless carrion!

_Enter_ ALBERTO.

_Alb._ Gallants, saw you my mistress, the lady Rossaline?

_Foro._ My mistress, the lady Rossaline, left the presence even now.

_Cast._ My mistress, the lady Rossaline, withdrew her gracious aspect even now.

_Bal._ My mistress, the lady Rossaline, withdrew her gracious aspect even now. 141

_Feli._ [_Aside._] Well said, echo.

_Alb._ My mistress, and his mistress, and your mistress, and the dog's mistress. Precious dear heaven, that Alberto lives to have such rivals!-- 'Slid, I have been searching every private room, Corner, and secret angle of the court: And yet, and yet, and yet she lives conceal'd. Good sweet Feliche, tell me how to find My bright-faced mistress out. 150

_Feli._ Why man, cry out for lanthorn and candle-light:[91] for 'tis your only way, to find your bright-flaming wench with your light-burning torch: for most commonly, these light creatures live in darkness.

_Alb._ Away, you heretic, you'll be burnt for----

_Feli._ Go, you amorous hound, follow the scent of your mistress' shoe; away!

_Foro._ Make a fair presence; boys, advance your lights; the princess makes approach.

_Bal._ And please the gods, now in very good deed, law, you shall see me tickle the measures for the heavens. Do my hangers[92] show? 162

_Enter_ PIERO, ANTONIO, MELLIDA, ROSSALINE, GALEATZO, MATZAGENTE, ALBERTO, _and_ FLAVIA. _As they enter_, FELICHE _and_ CASTILIO _make a rank for the_ DUKE _to pass through_. FOROBOSCO _ushers the_ DUKE _to his state_:[93] _then, whilst_ PIERO _speaketh his first speech,_ MELLIDA _is taken by_ GALEATZO _and_ MATZAGENTE _to dance, they supporting her_: ROSSALINE, _in like manner, by_ ALBERTO _and_ BALURDO: FLAVIA, _by_ FELICHE _and_ CASTILIO.

_Pier._ Beauteous Amazon, sit and seat your thoughts In the reposure of most soft content. Sound music there! Nay, daughter, clear your eyes, From these dull fogs of misty discontent: Look sprightly, girl. What? though Antonio's drown'd,-- That peevish dotard on thy excellence, That hated issue of Andrugio,-- Yet may'st thou triumph in my victories; 170 Since, lo, the high-born bloods of Italy Sue for thy seat of love.--Let[94] music sound! Beauty and youth run descant on love's ground.[95]

_Mat._ Lady, erect your gracious symmetry, Shine in the sphere of sweet affection: Your eye['s] as heavy, as the heart of night.

_Mel._ My thoughts are as black as your beard; my fortunes as ill-proportioned as your legs; and all the powers of my mind as leaden as your wit, and as dusty as your face is swarthy. 180

_Gal._ Faith, sweet, I'll lay thee on the lips for that jest.

_Mel._ I prithee intrude not on a dead man's right.

_Gal._ No, but the living's just possession: Thy lips and love are mine.

_Mel._ You ne'er took seizin on them yet: forbear. There's not a vacant corner of my heart, But all is fill'd with dead Antonio's loss. Then urge no more; O leave to love at all; 'Tis less disgraceful not to mount than fall.

_Mat._ Bright and refulgent lady, deign your ear: 190 You see this blade,--had it a courtly lip, It would divulge my valour, plead my love, Justle that skipping feeble amorist Out of your love's seat; I am Matzagent.

_Gal._ Hark thee; I pray thee, taint not thy sweet ear With that sot's gabble; by thy beauteous cheek, He is the flagging'st bulrush that e'er droop'd With each slight mist of rain. But with pleased eye Smile on my courtship.

_Mel._ What said you, sir? alas my thought was fix'd 200 Upon another object. Good, forbear: I shall but weep. Ay me, what boots a tear! Come, come, let's dance. O music, thou distill'st More sweetness in us than this jarring world: Both time and measure from thy strains do breathe, Whilst from the channel of this dirt doth flow Nothing but timeless grief, unmeasured woe.

_Ant._ O how impatience cramps my crackèd veins And cruddles thick my blood, with boiling rage! O eyes, why leap you not like thunderbolts, 210 Or cannon bullets in my rival's face! _Ohime infeliche misero, O lamentevol fato!_

_Alb._ What means the lady fall upon the ground?

_Ros._ Belike the falling sickness.

_Ant._ I cannot brook this sight, my thoughts grow wild: Here lies a wretch, on whom heaven never smiled.

_Ros._ What, servant, ne'er a word, and I here man? I would shoot some speech forth, to strike the time With pleasing touch of amorous compliment. Say, sweet, what keeps thy mind, what think'st thou on? 220

_Alb._ Nothing.

_Ros._ What's that nothing?

_Alb._ A woman's constancy.

_Ros._ Good, why, would'st thou have us sluts, and never shift The vesture of our thoughts? Away for shame.

_Alb._ O no, th'art too constant to afflict my heart, Too too firm fixèd in unmovèd scorn.

_Ros._ Pish, pish; I fixed in unmovèd scorn! Why, I'll love thee to-night.

_Alb._ But whom to-morrow?

_Ros._ Faith, as the toy puts me in the head.

_Bal._ And pleased the marble heavens, now would I might be the toy, to put you in the head, kindly to conceit my--my--my--pray you, give in an epithet for love.

_Feli._ Roaring, roaring. 232

_Bal._[96] O love, thou hast murder'd me, made me a shadow, and you hear not Balurdo, but Balurdo's ghost.

_Ros._ Can a ghost speak?

_Bal._ Scurvily, as I do.

_Ros._ And walk?

_Bal._ After their fashion.

_Ros._ And eat apples?

_Bal._ In a sort, in their garb. 240

_Feli._ Prithee, Flavia, be my mistress.

_Fla._ Your reason, good Feliche?

_Feli._ Faith, I have nineteen mistresses already, and I not much disdain that thou should'st make up the full score.

_Fla._ O, I hear you make commonplaces of your mistresses to perform the office of memory by. Pray you, in ancient times were not those satin hose? In good faith, now they are new dyed, pink'd, and scoured, they show as well as if they were new. What, mute, Balurdo? 250

_Feli._ Ay, in faith, and 'twere not for printing, and painting, my breech and your face would be out of reparation.[97]

_Bal._ Ay, in[98] faith, and 'twere not for printing, and painting,[99] my breech and your face would be out of reparation.

_Feli._ Good again, Echo.

_Fla._ Thou art, by nature, too foul to be affected.

_Feli._ And thou, by art, too fair to be beloved. By wit's life, most spark spirits, but hard chance. _La ty dine._ 261

_Pier._ Gallants, the night grows old; and downy sleep Courts us to entertain his company: Our tirèd limbs, bruis'd in the morning fight, Entreat soft rest, and gentle hush'd repose. Fill out Greek wines; prepare fresh cressit-light:[100] We'll have a banquet: Princes, then good-night.

[_The cornets sound a senet, and the_ DUKE _goes out in state_. _As they are going out_, ANTONIO _stays_ MELLIDA: _the rest exeunt_.

_Ant._ What means these scatter'd looks? why tremble you? Why quake your thoughts in your distracted eyes? Collect your spirits, Madam; what do you see? 270 Dost not behold a ghost? Look, look where he stalks, wrapt up in clouds of grief, Darting his soul upon thy wond'ring eyes. Look, he comes towards thee; see, he stretcheth out His wretched arms to gird thy loved waist, With a most wish'd embrace: see'st him not yet? Nor yet? Ha, Mellida; thou well may'st err: For look, he walks not like Antonio: Like that Antonio, that this morning shone In glistering habiliments of arms, 280 To seize his love, spite of her father's spite: But like himself, wretched, and miserable, Banish'd, forlorn, despairing, strook quite through, With sinking grief, rolled up in sevenfold doubles Of plagues [un]vanquishable: hark, he speaks to thee.

_Mel._ Alas, I cannot hear, nor see him.

_Ant._ Why? all this night about the room he stalk'd, And groan'd, and howl'd, with raging passion, To view his love (life-blood of all his hopes, Crown of his fortune) clipp'd by strangers' arms. 290 Look but behind thee.

_Mel._ O Antonio! My lord, my love, my----

_Ant._ Leave passion, sweet; for time, place, air, and earth, Are all our foes: fear, and be jealous; fair, Let's fly.

_Mel._ Dear heart, ha, whither?

_Ant._ O, 'tis no matter whither, but let's fly. Ha! now I think on't, I have ne'er a home, No father, friend, or country to embrace These wretched limbs: the world, the all that is, 300 Is all my foe: a prince not worth a doit: Only my head is hoisèd to high rate, Worth twenty thousand double pistolets, To him that can but strike it from these shoulders. But come, sweet creature, thou shalt be my home; My father, country, riches, and my friend, My all, my soul; and thou and I will live,-- Let's think like what--and you and I will live Like unmatch'd mirrors of calamity. The jealous ear of night eave-drops our talk. 310 Hold thee, there's a jewel; and look thee, there's a note That will direct thee when, where, how to fly. Bid me adieu.

_Mel._ Farewell, bleak misery!

_Ant._ Stay, sweet, let's kiss before you go!

_Mel._ Farewell, dear soul!

_Ant._ Farewell, my life, my heart!

[_Exeunt._

[77] A proverbial expression: gastêr ôtas ouk echei.

[78] A familiar form of address.

[79] Slipper.

[80] The stick which held the gunner's match.

[81] "Case of rapiers"--pair of rapiers.

[82] All the editions give "Bessicler's;" but this is evidently a misprint. Rosicleer was the brother of the Knight of the Sun, and he figures prominently in the group of romances published under the _Mirror of Knighthood_ (7 pts., 1583-1601). He had an excellent suit of armour, which proved very serviceable in his combats with giants.

[83] Dilke, in 1814, says that featherbeds were still used to protect the men from the fire of the enemy. As to the use of cables I refer the reader to Sir William Monson's _Naval Tracts_ (_Collection of Voyages and Travels_, 1704, iii. 358), where in the directions "How to preserve the men in fighting" it is stated:--"I prefer the coiling of cables on the deck, and keeping part of the men within them...; for the soldiers are in and out speedily upon all sudden occasions to succour any part of the ship, or to enter an enemy, without trouble to the sailors in handling their sails or to the gunners in playing their ordnance."

[84] A twisted band worn round the hat. In _Every Man out of his Humour_ (1599), the "cable-hatband" is mentioned as a novelty of the latest fashion:--"I had on a gold cable hat-band _then new come up_."

[85] Ruff, falling-band.

[86] "So in _King Henry VIII._:-- 'Let the music knock it.'"--_Dilke._

[87] A quick lively dance.

[88] "The exclamation was too fashionable in the time of Marston for those who had nothing else to say; and is ridiculed by Ben Jonson in the character of Orange in _Every Man out of his Humour_, as 'O Lord, sir,' is by Shakespeare in _All's Well that Ends Well_. Orange is thus described:--''Tis as dry an Orange as ever grew: nothing but salutation; and, O God, sir; and, it please you to say so, sir.'"--_Dilke._

[89] Lover, suitor.

[90] Regal, noble.--In the address "To those that seem judicial observers" prefixed to the _Scourge of Villainy_, Marston ridicules Ben Jonson (under the name of Torquatus) for introducing "new-minted epithets, as _real_, intrinsecate, Delphic."

[91] "Lanthorn and candle-light"--the bellman's cry.

[92] Loops or straps (fastened to the girdle) in which the rapier was suspended.

[93] Throne, chair of dignity.

[94] "Let music sound!" is printed as a stage-direction in the old copies.

[95] Musical term for an air on which variations or divisions were to be made.

[96] The words "O love ... Balurdo's ghost" are given to Feliche in old eds.

[97] There is the same joke in the _Merry Jests of George Peele_, 1627:--"George used often to an ordinary in this town, where a kinswoman of the good wife's in the house held a great pride and vain opinion of her own mother-wit; for her tongue was a jack continually wagging.... Now this titmouse, what she scanted by nature, she doth replenish by art, as her boxes of red and white daily can testify. But to come to George, who arrived at the ordinary among other gallants, throws his cloak upon the table, salutes the gentlemen, and presently calls for a cup of canary. George had a pair of hose on, that for some offence durst not to be seen in that hue they were first dyed in, but from his first colour being a youthful green, his long age turned him into a mournful black, and for his antiquity was in print. Which this busybody perceiving, thought now to give it him to the quick; and drawing near Master Peele, looking upon his breeches, 'By my troth, sir,' quoth she, 'these are exceedingly well printed.' At which word, George, being a little moved in his mind that his old hose were called in question, answered, 'And by my faith, mistress,' quoth George, 'your face is most damnably ill painted.' 'How mean you, sir?' quoth she. 'Marry thus, mistress,' quoth George, 'that if it were not for printing and painting, my arse and your face would grow out of reparations.'"

[98] Old eds. "an."

[99] Ed. 1602, "pointing."

[100] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Gloss., s._ CRESSETS.