SCENE I.

_A banqueting-hall._

HEROD _and_ NYMPHADORO _with napkins in their hands, followed by Pages with stools and meat_.

_Herod._ Come, sir; a stool, boy! these court-feasts are to us servitors court-fasts--such scambling, such shift for to eat, and where to eat. Here a squire of low degree hath got the carcass of a plover, there pages of the chamber divide the spoils of a tatter'd pheasant; here the sewer[161] has friended a country gentleman with a sweet green goose, and there a young fellow that late has bought his office, has caught a woodcock by the nose, _with cups full ever-flowing_.[162] 9

_Nym._ But is not Faunus preferr'd with a right hand?

_Herod._ Did you ever see a fellow so spurted up in a moment? He has got the right ear of the duke, the prince, princess, most of the lords, but all the ladies; why, he is become their only minion, usher, and supporter.

_Nym._ He hath gotten more lov'd reputation of virtue, of learning, of all graces, in one hour, than all your snarling reformers have in----

_Herod._ Nay, that's unquestionable; and, indeed, what a fruitless labour, what a filling of Danae's[163] tub, is it become to inveigh against folly! Community takes away the sense, and example the shame. No, 22 Praise me these fellows, hang on their chariot wheel, And mount with them whom Fortune heaves, nay, drives; A stoical sour virtue seldom thrives. Oppose such fortune, and then burst with those are pitied. The[164] hill of Chance is paved with poor men's bones, And bulks of luckless souls, over whose eyes Their chariot wheels must ruthless grate that rise.

_Enter_ HERCULES, _freshly suited_.

_Nym._ Behold that thing of most fortunate, most prosperous impudence,[165] Don Faunus himself. 31

_Herod._ Blessed and long-lasting be thy carnation ribbon, O man of more than wit, much more than virtue--of fortune! Faunus,[166] wilt eat any of a young spring sallet?

_Herc._ Where did the herbs grow, my gallant, where did they grow?

_Herod._ Hard by in the city here.

_Herc._ No, I'll none--I'll eat no city herbs, no city roots; for here in the city a man shall have his excrements in his teeth again within four and twenty hours. I love no city sallets. Hast any canary? 42

_Nym._ How the poor snake wriggles with his sudden warmth!

_Herod._ Here, Faunus, a health as deep as a female.

[HEROD _drinks_.

_Herc._ 'Fore Jove! we must be more endear'd.

_Nym._ How dost thou feel thyself now, Fawn?

_Herc._ Very womanly, with my fingers. I protest I think I shall love you. Are you married? I am truly taken with your virtues. Are you married? 50

_Herod._ Yes.

_Herc._ Why, I like you well for it.

_Herod._ No, troth, Fawn, I am not married.

_Herc._ Why, I like you better for it; 'fore heaven, I must love you!

_Herod._ Why, Fawn, why?

_Herc._ 'Fore heaven! you are blest with three rare graces--fine linen, clean linings, a sanguine complexion, and I am sure, an excellent wit, for you are a gentleman born. 60

_Herod._ Thank thee, sweet Fawn; but why is clean linen such a grace, I prithee?

_Herc._ O, my excellent and inward dearly-approved friend! What's your name, sir? Clean linen is the first our life craves, and the last our death enjoys.

_Herod._ But what hope rests for Nymphadoro? Thou art now within the buttons of the prince. Shall the duke his father marry the lady?

_Herc._ 'Tis to be hoped not.

_Nym._ That's some relief as long as there's hope. 70

_Herc._ But sure, sir, 'tis almost undoubted the lady will carry him.

_Nym._ O pestilent air! is there no plot so cunning, no surmise so false, no way of avoidance?

_Herc._ Hast thou any pity either of his passion or the lady's years--a gentleman in the summer and hunting season of his youth, the lady met in the same warmth. Were't not to be wept that such a sapless chafing-dish-using old dotard as the Duke of Ferrara, with his withered hand, should pluck such a bud, such a--oh, the life of sense! 81

_Nym._ Thou art now a perfect courtier of just fashion; good grace, canst not relieve us?

_Herc._ Ha' ye any money?

_Nym._ Pish, Fawn, we are young gallants!

_Herc._ The liker to have no money. But, my young gallants, to speak like myself, I must hug your humour. Why, look you, there is fate, destiny, constellations, and planets (which, though they are under nature, yet they are above women). Who hath read the book of chance? No, cherish your hope, sweeten your imaginations with thoughts of--ah! why, women are the most giddy, uncertain motions under heaven. 'Tis neither proportion of body, virtue of mind, amplitude of fortune, greatness of blood, but only mere chanceful appetite, sways them; which makes some one like a man, be it but for the paring of his nails. _Via!_ as for inequality, art not a gentleman? 98

_Nym._ That I am; and my beneficence shall show it.

_Herc._ I know you are, by that only word beneficence, which only speaks of the future tense (_shall_ know it); but may I breathe in your bosoms? _I_ only fear Tiberio will abuse his father's trust, and so make your hopes desperate.

_Nym._ How?--the prince? Would he only stood cross to my wishes, he should find me an Italian.

_Herc._ How an Italian? 107

_Herod._ By thy aid an Italian; dear Faunus, thou art now wriggled into the prince's bosom, and thy sweet hand should minister that nectar to him should make him immortal. Nymphadoro, in direct phrase, thou shouldst murder the prince, so revenge thine own wrongs, and be rewarded for that revenge.

_Herc._ Afore the light of my eyes, I think I shall admire, wonder at you. What! ha' ye plots, projects, correspondences, and stratagems? Why are not you in better place? 117

_Enter_ Sir AMOROSO.

Who's this?

_Herod._ My eldest brother, Sir Amoroso Debile-Dosso.

_Herc._ O, I know him! God bless thine eyes, sweet Sir Amoroso! A rouse--a _vin de monte_[167] to the health of thy chine,[168] my dear sweet signior!

_Sir Amor._ Pardon me, sir; I drink no wine this spring.

_Herod._ O no, sir; he takes the diet this spring always. Boy, my brother's bottle.

_Sir Amor._ 'Faith, Fawn, an odd unwholesome cold makes me still hoarse and rheumatic. 127

_Herod._ Yes, in troth, a paltry murr.[169] Last morning, he blew nine bones out of his nose with an odd unwholesome murr. How does my sister, your lady? What, does she breed?

_Herc._ I perceive, knight, you have children. O! 'tis a blessed assurance of Heaven's favour, and long-lasting name, to have many children.

_Sir Amor._ But I ha' none, Fawn, now. 135

_Herc._ O that's most excellent--a right special happiness. He shall not be a drudge to his cradle, a slave to his child; he shall be sure not to cherish another's blood, nor toil to advance, peradventure, some rascal's lust. Without children, a man is unclogg'd, his wife almost a maid. Messallina, thou criedst out, O blessed barrenness! Why, once with child, the very Venus of a lady's entertainment hath lost all pleasure.

_Sir Amor._ By this ring, Faunus, I do hug thee with most passionate affection, and shall make my wife thank thee. 146

_Herod._ Nay, my brother grudgeth not at my probable inheritance. He means once to give a younger brother hope to see fortune.

_Nym._ And yet I hear, Sir Amoroso, you cherish your loins with high art, the only engrosser of eringoes; prepared cantharides, cullisses[170] made of dissolved pearl and bruised amber; the pith of parkets,[171] and candied lamb-stones are his perpetual meats; beds made of the down under pigeons' wings and goose-necks, fomentations, baths, electuaries, frictions, and all the nurses of most forcible excited concupiscence, he useth with most nice and tender industry. 158

_Herc._ Pish, Zoccoli! No, Nymphadoro, if Sir Amoroso would ha' children, let him lie on a mattress, plow or thresh, eat onions, garlic, and leek porridge. Pharaoh and his council were mistaken; and their device to hinder the increase of procreation in the Israelites with enforcing them to much labour of body, and to feed hard, with beets, garlic, and onions (meat that make the original of man most sharp and taking), was absurd. No, he should have given barley bread, lettuce, melons, cucumbers, huge store of veal and fresh beef, blown up their flesh, held them from exercise, rolled them in feathers, and most surely seen them drunk once a day; then would they at their best have begotten but wenches, and in short their generation enfeebled to nothing. 172

_Sir Amor._ O, divine Faunus, where might a man take up forty pound in a commodity of garlic and onions? Nymphadoro, thine ear.

_Herc._ Come, what are you fleering at? There's some weakness in your brother you wrinkle at thus; come, prithee, impart; what? we are mutually incorporated, turn'd one into another, brued [sic] together. Come, I believe you are familiar with your sister, and it were known.

_Herod._ Witch, Faunus, witch! Why, how dost dream I live? Is't four score a year, think'st thou, maintains my geldings, my pages, foot-cloths, my best feeding, high play, and excellent company? No, 'tis from hence, from hence, I mint some four hundred pound a year. 185

_Herc._ Dost thou live like a porter, by the[172] back, boy?

_Herod._ As for my weak-rein'd brother, hang him! He has sore shins. Damn him, heteroclite! his brain's perished! His youth spent his fodder so fast on others' cattle, that he now wants for his own winter. I am fain to supply, Fawn, for which I am supplied.

_Herc._ Dost thou branch him, boy?

_Herod._ What else, Fawn? 193

_Herc._ What else? Nay, 'tis enough. Why, many men corrupt other men's wives, some their maids, others their neighbours' daughters; but to lie with one's brother's wedlock,[173] O, my dear Herod, 'tis vile[174] and uncommon lust.

_Herod._ 'Fore Heaven, I love thee to the heart! Well, I may praise God for my brother's weakness, for I assure thee the land shall descend to me, my little Fawn. 201

_Herc._ To thee, my little Herod? O, my rare rascal, I do find more and more in thee to wonder at, for thou art, indeed--if I prosper, thou shalt know what. Who's this?[175]

_Enter_ Don ZUCCONE.

_Herod._ What! know you not Don Zuccone, the only desperately railing lord[176] at's lady that ever was confidently melancholy--that egregious idiot, that husband of the most witty, fair (and be it spoken with many men's true grief), most chaste Lady Zoya! But we have entered into a confederacy of afflicting him. 211

_Herc._ Plots ha' you laid, inductions dangerous?[177]

_Nym._ A quiet bosom to my sweet Don. Are you going to visit your lady?

_Zuc._ What o'clock is't? Is it past three?

_Herod._ Past four, I assure you, sweet Don.

_Zuc._ O, then, I may be admitted. Her afternoon's private nap is taken. I shall take her napping. I hear there's one jealous that I lie with my own wife, and begins to withdraw his hand. I protest, I vow,--and you will, on my knees I'll take my sacrament on it,--I lay not with her this four years--this four years; let her not be turn'd upon me, I beseech you. 223

_Herc._ My dear Don!

_Zuc._ O, Faunus, do'st know our lady?

_Herc._ Your lady?

_Zuc._ No, _our_ lady. For the love of charity, incorporate with her; I would have all nations and degrees, all ages, know our lady; for I covet only to be undoubtedly notorious. 230

_Herc._ For indeed, sir, a repressed fame mounts like camomile[178]--the more trod down, the more it grows. Things known common and undoubted, lose rumour.

_Nym._ I hope yet your conjectures may err. Your lady keeps full face, unbated roundness, cheerful aspect. Were she so infamously prostitute, her cheek would fall, her colour fade, the spirit of her eye would die.

_Zuc._ O, young man, such women are like Danaus' tub; and, indeed, all women are like Achelous,[179] with whom Hercules wrestling, he was no sooner hurl'd to the earth, but he rose up with double vigour. Their fall strengthened them. 242

_Enter_ DONDOLO.

_Don._ News, news, news, news! O, my dear Don, be raised--be jovial[180]--be triumphant! Ah, my dear Don!

_Nym._ To me first, in private, thy news, I prithee.

_Don._ Will you be secret?

_Nym._ O' my life.

_Don._ As you are generous?

_Nym._ As I am generous. 250

_Don._ Don Zuccone's lady's with child.

_Herc._ Nymph, Nymph, what is't?--what's the news?

_Nym._ You will be secret?

_Herod._ Silence itself.

_Nym._ Don Zuccone's lady's with child apparently.

_Herc._ Herod, Herod, what's the matter, prithee? the news?

_Herod._ You must tell nobody?

_Herc._ As I am generous----

_Herod._ Don Zuccone's lady's with child apparently.

_Zuc._ Fawn, what's the whisper?--what's the fool's secret news? 262

_Herc._ Truth, my lord, a thing that--that--well, i'faith, it is not fit you know it: now[181]--now--now--

_Zuc._ Not fit I know it? As thou art baptized, tell me--tell me.

_Herc._ Will you plight your patience to it?

_Zuc._ Speak, I am a very block. I will not be moved--I am a very block.

_Herc._ But if you should grow disquiet (as, I protest, it would make a saint blaspheme), I should be unwilling to procure your impatience. 272

_Zuc._ Yes,[182] do! Burst me! burst me! burst me with longing!

_Herc._ Nay, faith, 'tis no great matter! Hark ye, you'll tell nobody?

_Zuc._ Not.

_Herc._ As you are noble?

_Zuc._ As I am honest.

_Herc._ Your lady-wife is[183] apparently with child. 280

_Zuc._ With child?

_Herc._ With child.

_Zuc._ Fool!

_Herc._ My Don.

_Zuc._ With child!--by the pleasure of generation, I proclaim I lay not with her this----Give us patience!--give us patience!

_Herc._ Why? my lord, 'tis nothing to wear a forker.[184]

_Zuc._ Heaven and earth!

_Herc._ All things under the moon are subject to their mistress' grace. Horns! Lend me your ring, my Don--I'll put it on my finger. Now 'tis on yours again. Why is the gold now e'er the worse in lustre or fitness? 293

_Zuc._ Am I used thus?

_Herc._ Ay, my lord, true. Nay, to be--(look ye, mark ye)--to be used like a dead ox--to have your own hide pluck'd on--to be drawn on with your own horn,--to have the lordship of your father, the honour of your ancestors, maugre your beard, to descend to the base lust of some groom of your stable, or the page of your chamber! 301

_Zuc._ O, Phalaris! thy bull!

_Sir Amor._ Good Don, ha' patience! you are not the only cuckold! I would now be separated.

_Zuc._ 'Las! that's but the least drop of the storm of my revenge! I will unlegitimate[185] the issue! What I will do shall be horrible but to think.

_Herc._ But, sir----

_Zuc._ But, sir, I will do what a man of my form may do; and laugh on, laugh on, do Sir Amorous--you have a lady, too. 311

_Herod._ But, my sweet lord----

_Zuc._ Do not anger me, lest I most dreadfully curse thee, and wish thee married! O, Zuccone, spit white, spit thy gall out. The only boon I crave of Heaven is----But to have my honours inherited by a bastard! I will be most tyrannous--bloodily tyrannous in my revenge, and most terrible in my curses! Live to grow blind with lust, senseless with use, loathed after, flattered before, hated always, trusted never, abhorred ever! and last, may she live to wear a most foul smock seven weeks together, Heaven, I beseech thee! 322

[_Exit._

_Enter_ ZOYA _and_ POVEIA.

_Zoy._ Is he gone?--is he blown off? Now; out upon him, insufferably jealous fool.

_Don._ Lady!

_Zoy._ Didst thou give him the famed report? Does he believe I am with child? Does he give faith?

_Don._ In most sincerity, most sincerely.

_Zoy._ Nay, 'tis a pure fool! I can tell ye he was bred up in Germany. 330

_Nym._ But the laughter rises, that he vows he lay not in your bed this four year, with such exquisite protestations.

_Zoy._ That's most full truth. He hath most unjustly severed his sheets ever since the old Duke Pietro (Heaven rest his soul!)----

_Don._ Fie! You may not pray for the dead; 'tis indifferent to them what you say.

_Nym._ Well said, fool.

_Zoy._ Ever since the old Duke Pietro, the great devil of hell torture his soul---- 341

_Don._ O, lady! yet charity!

_Zoy._ Why? 'tis indifferent to them what you say, fool. But does my lord ravel out? does he fret? For pity of an afflicted lady, load him soundly; let him not go[186] clear from vexation: he has the most dishonourably, with the most sinful, most vicious obstinacy, persevered to wrong me, that, were I not of a male constitution, 'twere impossible for me to survive it; but in madness' name, let him on. I ha' not the weak sense[187] of some of your soft-eyed whimpering ladies, who, if they were used like me, would gall their fingers with wringing their hands, look like bleeding Lucreces, and shed salt water enough to powder all the beef in the duke's larder. No, I am resolute Donna Zoya. Ha! that wives were of my metal! I would make these ridiculously jealous fools howl like a starved dog before he got a bit. I was created to be the affliction of such an unsanctified member, and will boil him in his own syrup. 359

_Enter_ ZUCCONE, _listening_.

_Herc._ Peace! the wolf's ear takes the wind of us.

_Herod._ The enemy is in ambush.

_Zoy._ If any man ha' the wit, now let him talk wantonly but not bawdily. Come, gallants, who'll be my servants? I am now very open-hearted and full of entertainment.

_Herc._ Grace me to call you mistress?

_Nym._ Or me?

_Herod._ Or me?

_Sir Amor._ Or me? 368

_Zoy._ Or all! I am taken with you all--with you all.

_Herc._ As, indeed, why should any woman only love any[188] one man, since it is reasonable women should affect all perfection,[189] but all perfection never rests in one man. Many men have many virtues, but ladies should love many virtues, therefore ladies should love many men; for as in women, so in men; some women hath only a good eye,--one can discourse beautifully, if she do not laugh,--one's well-favoured to her nose,--another hath only a good brow,--t'other a plump lip,--a third only holds beauty to the teeth, and there the soil alters; some, peradventure, hold good to the breast, and then downward turn like the dreamt-of image,[190] whose head was gold, breast silver, thighs iron, and all beneath clay and earth; one only winks eloquently,--another only kisses well,--t'other only talks well,--a fourth only lies well; so, in men, one gallant has only a good face,--another has only a grave methodical beard, and is a notable wise fellow until he speaks,--a third only makes water well, and that's a good provoking quality,--one only swears well,--another only speaks well,--a third only does well. All in their kind good: goodness is to be best affected, therefore they; it is a base thing, and indeed an impossible, for a worthy mind to be contented with the whole world, but most vile and abject to be satisfied with one point or prick[191] of the world. 394

_Zoy._ Excellent Faunus! I kiss thee for this, by this hand.

_Sir Amor._ I thought as well: kiss me too, dear mistress.

_Zoy._ No, good Sir Amoroso;[192] your teeth hath taken rust, your breath wants airing, and indeed I love sound kissing. Come, gallants, who'll run a caranto, or leap a levalto? 401

_Herc._ Take heed, lady, from offending or bruising the hope of your womb.

_Zoy._ No matter; now I ha' the sleight, or rather the fashion of it, I fear no barrenness.

_Herc._ O, but you know not your husband's aptness.

_Zoy._ Husband! husband! as if women could have no children without husbands.

_Nym._ Ay, but then they will not be so like your husband. 410

_Zoy._ No matter, they'll be like their father; 'tis honour enough to my husband that they vouchsafe to call him father, and that his land shall descend to them. (Does he not gnash his very teeth in anguish?) Like our husband? I had rather they were ungroan'd for. Like our husband?--prove such a melancholy jealous ass as he is? (Does he not stamp?)

_Nym._ But troth, your husband has a good face.

_Zoy._ Faith, good enough face for a husband. Come, gallants, I'll dance to mine own whistle: I am as light now as----Ah! [_she sings and dances_]. A kiss to you, to my sweet free servants. Dream on me, and adieu.

[_Exit_ ZOYA.

ZUCCONE _discovers himself_.

_Zuc._ I shall lose my wits. 423

_Herc._ Be comforted, dear Don, you ha' none to leese.

_Zuc._ My wife is grown like a Dutch crest, always rampant, rampant: 'fore I will endure this affliction, I will live by raking cockles out of kennels; nay, I will run my country,--forsake my religion,--go weave fustians,--or roll the wheel-barrow at Rotterdam.

_Herc._ I would be divorced, despite her friends, or the oath of her chamber-maid. 431

_Zuc._ Nay, I will be divorced, in despite of 'em all; I'll go to law with her.

_Herc._ That's excellent; nay, I would go to law.

_Zuc._ Nay, I will go to law.

_Herc._ Why, that's sport alone; what though it be most exacting? wherefore is money?

_Zuc._ True, wherefore is money? 438

_Herc._ What, though you shall pay for every quill, each drop of ink, each minim, letter, tittle, comma, prick, each breath, nay, not only for thine own orator's prating, but for some other orator's silence,--though thou must buy silence with a full hand,--'tis well known Demosthenes[193] took above two thousand pound once only to hold his peace,--though thou a man of noble gentry, yet you must wait, and besiege his study door, which will prove more hard to be entered than old Troy, for that was gotten into by a wooden horse; but the entrance of this may chance cost thee a whole stock of cattle, _oves et boves, et coetera pecora campi_;--though then thou must sit there, thrust and contemned, bare-headed to a grograine scribe, ready to start up at the door creaking, press'd to get in, "with your leave, sir," to some surly groom, the third son of a rope-maker:[194]--what of all this? 454

_Zuc._ To a resolute mind these torments are not felt.

_Herc._ A very arrant ass, when he is hungry, will feed on, though he be whipt to the bones, and shall a very arrant ass, Zuccone, be more virtuously patient than a noble----

_Don._ No, Fawn, the world shall know I have more virtue than so---- 461

_Herc._ Do so, and be wise.

_Zuc._ I will, I warrant thee: so I may be revenged, what care I what I do?

_Herc._ Call a dog worshipful?

_Zuc._ Nay, I will embrace,--nay, I will embrace a jakes-farmer, after eleven o'clock at night,--I will stand bare, and give wall to a bellows-mender,--pawn my lordship,--sell my foot-cloth,[195]--but I will be revenged. Does she think she has married an ass? 470

_Herc._ A fool?

_Zuc._ A coxcomb?

_Herc._ A ninny-hammer?

_Zuc._ A woodcock?

_Herc._ A calf?

_Zuc._ No, she shall find that I ha' eyes.

_Herc._ And brain.

_Zuc._ And nose.

_Herc._ And forehead.

_Zuc._ She shall, i'faith, Fawn; she shall, she shall, sweet Fawn; she shall, i'faith, old boy; it joys my blood to think on't; she shall, i'faith. Farewell, loved Fawn; sweet Fawn, farewell: she shall, i'faith, boy. 483

[_Exit_ ZUCCONE.

_Enter_ GONGAZO _and_ GRANUFFO _with_ DULCIMEL.

_Gon._ We would be private, only Faunus stay; He is a wise fellow, daughter, a very wise fellow, for he is still just of my opinion. My Lord Granuffo, you may likewise stay, for I know you'll say nothing. Say on, daughter.

[_Exeunt all but_ GONZAGO, GRANUFFO, HERCULES _and_ DULCIMEL.

_Dul._ And as I told you, sir, Tiberio being sent, Graced in high trust, as to negotiate 490 His royal father's love, if he neglect The honour of this faith, just care of state, And every fortune that gives likelihood To his best hopes, to draw our weaker heart To his own love (as I protest he does)----

_Gon._ I'll rate[196] the prince with such a heat of breath, His ears shall glow; nay, I discover'd him; I read his eyes, as I can read any[197] eye-- Tho' it speak in darkest characters, I can; Can we not, Fawn?--can we not, my lord? 500 Why, I conceive you now; I understand you both. You both admire; yes, say is 't not hit? Though we are old, or so, yet we ha' wit.

_Dul._ And you may say (if so[198] your wisdom please, As you are truly wise), how weak a creature Soft woman is to bear the siege and strength Of so prevailing feature and fair language, As that of his is ever: you may add (If so your wisdom please, as you are wise)----

_Gon._ As mortal man may be.

_Dul._ I am of years 510 Apt for his love; and if he should proceed In private urgent suit, how easy 'twere To win my love: for you may say (if so Your wisdom please) you find in me A very forward passion to enjoy him, And therefore you beseech him seriously Straight to forbear, with such close-cunning art To urge his too well gracèd suit: for you (If so your lordship please) may say I told you all.

_Gon._ Go to, go to; what I will say, or so, 520 Until I say, none but myself shall know. But I will say--Go to; does not my colour rise? It shall rise; for I can force my blood To come and go, as men of wit and state Must sometimes feign their love, sometimes their hate. That's policy now; but come with this free heat, Or this same Estro[199] or Enthusiasm (For these are phrases both poetical); Will we go rate the prince, and make him see Himself in us; that is, our grace and wits 530 Shall show his shapeless folly,--vice kneels while virtue sits.

_Enter_ TIBERIO.

But see, we are prevented: daughter, in! It is not fit thyself should hear what I Must speak of thy most modest, wise, wise mind; For th'art careful, sober, in all most wise, And indeed our daughter. [_Exit_ DULCIMEL.] My Lord Tiberio, A horse but yet a colt may leave his trot, A man but yet a boy may well be broke From vain addictions; the head of rivers stopp'd, The channel dries; he that doth dread a fire, 540 Must put out sparks; and he who fears a bull, Must cut his horns off when he is a calf. _Principiis obsta_,[200] saith a learned man, Who, though he was no duke, yet he was wise, And had some sense or so.

_Tib._ What means my lord?

_Gon._[201] La, sir! thus men of brain can speak in clouds, Which weak eyes cannot pierce; but, my fair lord, In direct phrase thus, my daughter tells me plain, You go about with most direct entreats To gain her love, and to abuse her father. 550 O, my fair lord, will you, a youth so blest With rarest gifts of fortune and sweet graces, Offer to love a young and tender lady; Will you, I say, abuse your most wise father, Who, tho' he freeze in August, and his calves Are sunk into his toes, yet may well wed our daughter, As old as he in wit? Will you, I say (For by my troth, my lord, I must be plain)? My daughter is but young, and apt to love So fit a person as your proper self, 560 And so she pray'd me tell you. Will you now Entice her easy breast to abuse your trust, Her proper honour, and your father's hopes? I speak no figures, but I charge you check Your appetite and passions to our daughter, Before it head, nor offer conference, Or seek access, but by and before us. What, judge you us as weak or as unwise? No, you shall find that Venice duke has eyes; And so think on't.

[_Exeunt_ GONZAGO _and_ GRANUFFO.

_Tib._ Astonishment and wonder! what means this? Is the duke sober?

_Herc._ Why, ha' not you endeavour'd 572 Courses that only[202] seconded appetite, And not your honour, or your trust of place? Do you not court the lady for yourself?

_Tib._ Fawn, thou dost love me. If I ha' done so, 'Tis past my knowledge; and I prithee, Fawn, If thou observ'st I do I know not what, Make me to know it; for by the dear light, I ha' not found a thought that way. I apt for love? Let lazy idleness, fill'd full of wine, 581 Heated with meats, high fed, with lustful ease, Go dote on colour. As for me, why, death[203] o' sense! I court the lady? I was not born in Cyprus. I love! when?--how?--whom? Think, let us yet keep Our reason sound. I'll think, and think, and sleep.

[_Exit._

_Herc._ Amazed! even lost in wond'ring! I rest full Of covetous expectation. I am left As on a rock, from whence I may discern The giddy sea of humour flow beneath, 590 Upon whose back the vainer bubbles float, And forthwith break. O mighty flattery! Thou easiest, common'st, and most grateful venom, That poisons courts and all societies, How grateful dost thou make me? Should one rail, And come to fear[204] a vice, beware leg-rings And the turn'd key on thee, when, if softer hand Suppling a sore that itches (which should smart)-- Free speech gains foes, base fawnings steal the heart. Swell, you imposthum'd members, till you burst, 600 Since 'tis in vain to hinder, on I'll thrust; And when in shame you fall, I'll laugh from hence, And cry, "So end all desperate impudence!" Another's court shall show me where and how Vice may be cured, for now beside myself, Possess'd with almost frenzy, from strong fervour I know I shall produce things mere divine: Without immoderate heat, no virtues shine. For I speak strong, tho' strange,--the dews that steep Our souls in deepest thoughts are fury and sleep. 610

[_Exit._

[161] The officer who set on the dishes and removed them at a banquet.

[162] Ed. 3. "overflowing." The italicised words seem to be a quotation.

[163] So the old eds.; but probably "Danae's" is a misprint for "the Danaides'." Later we have "Danau's tubbe."

[164] "The hill ... that rise" (ll. 27-29). These lines are found only in the second 4to.

[165] "Impudence"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[166] "Faunus"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[167] Possibly a corrupt abbreviation of Ital. _Vino di Montepulciano_.

[168] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "to health [and _to'th health_] of thy chin."

[169] See note, vol. i. p. 153.

[170] Rich broths.--Cf. Middleton, iii. 285:--"Let gold, amber, and dissolved pearl be common ingrediences, and that you cannot compose a cullice without 'em."

[171] _i.e._, parroquets?--Cf. _The Fox_, iii. 6: "The heads of _parrots_, tongues of nightingales, The brains of peacocks and of estriches, Shall be our food."

[172] Eds. 1. and 3. "thy."

[173] Wife.--See Middleton, iv. 62, vii. 212.

[174] This must be a misprint.--Should we read "royal"?

[175] "Who's this?"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[176] "Lord"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[177] _Richard III._, i. 1. l. 32: "Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous."

[178] Cf. 1 _Henry IV._, ii. 4:--"For though _the camomile_ the more it is trodden on the faster it grows, yet youth the more it is wasted the sooner it wears." The comparison was very common.

[179] See Ovid's _Metamorphoses_, lib. ix.

[180] So ed. 3.--Eds. 1. and 2. "Iouiald."

[181] "Now--now--now"--omitted in ed. 2.

[182] Eds. 1. and 3. "Ye."

[183] Omitted in ed. 2.

[184] Eds. 1. and 3. "forke."

[185] Ed. 1. "vnlegittimall."

[186] Eds. 1. and 3. "worke."

[187] Old eds. "fence."

[188] "Any one man."--So ed. 2.; eds. 1. and 3. "such an one."

[189] Eds. 1. and 3. proceed thus:--"yea, all should court many vertues, therefore ladies should court many men; for as in women, so in men, some woman hath," &c.

[190] See the second chapter of _The Book of Daniel_.

[191] "Or prick"--omitted in ed. 2.

[192] Eds. 1. and 3. "Amorous."

[193] Plutarch tells the story in his account of Demosthenes (_Orat. Vit._):--"Pôlou de pote tou hypokritou pros auton eipontos, hoti dysin hêmerais agônisamenos talanton laboi misthon, Egô ioe, eipe, pente talanta, mian hêmeran siôpêsas."

[194] Nashe persistently twitted Gabriel Harvey with being the son of a ropemaker.

[195] The housings of a horse.

[196] Ed. 1. "hate."

[197] Eds. 1. and 3. "an."

[198] "So"--omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[199] "The oestrum or gadfly is here meant, which extremely torments cattle in the summer. It is metaphorically used for inspired fury of any kind."--_Dilke._

[200] Ovid, _Remed. Am._, l. 91.

[201] Not marked in eds. 1. and 3.

[202] Eds. 1. and 3. "that have seconded."

[203] Eds. 1. and 3. "earth." ("Death o' sense" is a sort of meaningless oath. Cf. p. 138, l. 81. "Oh, the life of sense!" Later we have "Death o' man! is she delivered?" iv. 1.)

[204] _i.e._, frighten.