The works of Thomas Middleton, Volume 1 (of 5)

ACT III. SCENE I.

Chapter 462,099 wordsPublic domain

_A Hall in_ FALSO’s _House_.

_Enter_ FALSO _untrussed_.

FAL. Why, Latronello! Furtivo! Fucato! Where be these lazy knaves that should truss me?[876] not one stirring yet? [_A Cry within._] Follow, follow, follow! FAL. What news there? [_A Cry within._] This way, this way; follow, follow! FAL. Hark, you sluggish soporiferous villains! there’s knaves abroad when you are a-bed: are ye not ashamed on’t? a justice’s men should be up first, and give example to[877] all knaves.

_Enter_ LATRONELLO _and_ FUCATO, _tumbling in, in false beards_.

LAT. O, I beseech your good worship! FUC. Your worshipful worship! FAL. Thieves! my two-hand sword! I’m robbed i’ th’ hall. Latronello, knaves, come down! my two-hand sword, I say! LAT. I am Latronello, I beseech your worship. FAL. Thou Latronello? thou liest; my men scorn to have beards. LAT. We forget our beards. [_They take off their false beards._]—Now, I beseech your worship quickly remember us. FAL. How now? FUC. Nay, there’s no time to talk of _how now_; ’tis done. [_A Cry within._] Follow, follow, follow! LAT. Four mark and a livery is not able to keep life and soul together: we must fly out once a quarter; ’tis for your worship’s credit to have money in our purse. Our fellow Furtivo is taken in the action. FAL. A pox on him for a lazy knave! would he be taken? FUC. They bring him along to your worship; you’re the next justice. Now or never shew yourself a good master, an upright magistrate, and deliver him out of their hands. FAL. Nay, he shall find me—apt enough to do him good, I warrant him. LAT. He comes in a false beard, sir. FAL. ’S foot, what should he do here else? there’s no coming to me in a true one, if he had one. The slave to be taken! do not I keep geldings swift enough? LAT. The goodliest geldings of any gentleman in the shire. FAL. Which did the whorson knave ride upon? LAT. Upon one of your best, sir. FUC. Stand-and-deliver. FAL. Upon Stand-and-deliver? the very gelding I choose for mine own riding; as nimble as Pegasus the flying horse yonder. Go shift yourselves into your coats; bring hither a great chair and a little table. FUC. With all present speed, sir. FAL. And, Latronello—— LAT. Ay, sir. FAL. Sit you down, and very soberly take the examination. LAT. I’ll draw a few horse-heads in a paper; make a shew. I hope I shall keep my countenance. [_Exeunt_ LATRONELLO _and_ FUCATO. FAL. Pox on him again! would he be taken? he frets me. I have been a youth myself: I ha’ seen the day I could have told money out of other men’s purses,—mass, so I can do now,—nor will I keep that fellow about me that dares not bid a man stand; for as long as drunkenness is a vice, stand is a virtue: but I would not have ’em taken. I remember now betimes in a morning, I would have peeped through the green boughs, and have had the party presently, and then to ride away finely in fear: ’twas e’en venery[878] to me, i’faith, the pleasantest course of life! one would think every woodcock a constable, and every owl an officer. But those days are past with me; and, a’ my troth, I think I am a greater thief now, and in no danger. I can take my ease, sit in my chair, look in your faces now, and rob you; make you bring your money by authority, put off your hat, and thank me for robbing of you. O, there is nothing to a thief under covert barn![879]

_Enter_ PHŒNIX _and_ FIDELIO; _Constable and Officers with_ FURTIVO; _and_ LATRONELLO _and_ FUCATO _bringing in a chair and table_.

CON. Come, officers, bring him away. FAL. Nay, I see thee through thy false beard, thou midwind-chined rascal, [_Aside._]—How now, my masters, what’s he? ha? CON. Your worship knows I never come but I bring a thief with me. FAL. Thou hast left thy wont else, constable. PHŒ. Sir, we understand you to be the only uprightness of this place. FAL. But I scarce understand you, sir. PHŒ. Why, then, you understand not yourself, sir. FAL. Such another word, and you shall change places with the thief. PHŒ. A maintainer of equal causes, I mean. FAL. Now I have you; proceed, sir. PHŒ. This gentleman and myself, being led hither by occasion of business, have been offered the discourtesy of the country, set upon by three thieves, and robbed. FAL. What are become of the other two?—Latronello.[880] LAT. Here, sir.

PHŒ. They both made away from us; the cry pursues ’em, but as yet none but this taken. FAL. Latronello. LAT. Sir? FAL. Take his examination. LAT. Yes, sir. FAL. Let the knave stand single. FUR. Thank your good worship. FAL. Has been a suitor at court, sure; he thanks me for nothing. PHŒ. He’s a thief now, sure. FAL. That we must know of him.—What are ye, sir? FUR. A piece next to the tail, sir, a servingman. FAL. By my troth, a pretty phrase, and very cleanly handled! Put it down, Latronello; thou mayst make use on’t.—Is he of honour or worship whom thou servest? FUR. Of both, dear sir; honourable in mind, and worshipful in body. FAL. Why, would one wish a man to speak better? PHŒ. O, sir, they most commonly speak best that do worst. FAL. Say you so, sir? then we’ll try him farther.—Does your right worshipful master go before you as an ensample of vice, and so encourage you to this slinking[881] iniquity? He is not a lawyer, is he? FUR. Has the more wrong, sir; both for his conscience and honesty he deserves to be one. FAL. Pity he’s a thief, i’faith; I should entertain him else. PHŒ. Ay, if he were not as he is, he would be better than himself. FUR. No, ’tis well known, sir, I have a master the very picture of wisdom—— LAT. For indeed he speaks not one wise word. [_Aside._ FUR. And no man but will admire to hear of his virtues—— LAT. Because he ne’er had any in all his life. [_Aside._ FAL. You write all down, Latronello? LAT. I warrant you, sir. FUR. So sober, so discreet, so judicious—— FAL. Hum. FUR. And above all, of most reverend gravity. FAL. I like him for one quality; he speaks well of his master; he will fare the better.—Now, sir, let me touch you. FUR. Ay, sir. FAL. Why, serving a gentleman of such worship and wisdom, such sobriety and virtue, such discretion and judgment, as your master is, do you take such a beastly course, to stop horses, hinder gentlewomen from their meetings, and make citizens never ride but a’ Sundays, only to avoid morning prayer and you? Is it because your worshipful master feeds you with lean spits, pays you with Irish money, or clothes you in northern dozens?[882] FUR. Far be it from his mind, or my report. ’Tis well known he kept worshipful cheer the day of his wife’s burial; pays our four marks a-year as duly by twelve pence a-quarter as can be—— PHŒ. His wisdom swallows it. [_Aside._ FUR. And for northern dozens—fie, fie, we were ne’er troubled with so many. FAL. Receiving then such plenteous blessings from your virtuous and bountiful master, what cause have you to be thief now? answer me to that gear.[883] FUR. ’Tis e’en as a man gives his mind to’t, sir. FAL. How, sir? FUR. For, alas, if the whole world were but of one trade, traffic were nothing! if we were all true men,[884] we should be of no trade: what a pitiful world would here be! heaven forbid we should be all true men! Then how should your worship’s next suit be made? not a tailor left in the land: of what stuff would you have it made? not a merchant left to deliver it: would your worship go in that suit still? You would ha’ more thieves about you than those you have banished, and be glad to call the great ones home again, to destroy the little. PHŒ. A notable rogue! FAL. A’ my troth, a fine knave, and has answered me gloriously.—What wages wilt thou take after thou art hanged? FUR. More than your worship’s able to give: I would think foul scorn to be a justice then. FAL. He says true too, i’faith; for we are all full of corruption here. [_Aside._]—Hark you, my friends. PHŒ. Sir? FAL. By my troth, if you were no crueller than I, I could find in my heart to let him go. PHŒ. Could you so, sir? the more pitiful justice you. FAL. Nay, I did but to try you; if you have no pity, I’ll ha’ none.—Away! he’s a thief; to prison with him! FUR. I am content, sir. FAL. Are you content?—Bring him back.—Nay then, you shall not go.—I’ll be as cruel as you can wish.—You’re content? belike you have a trick to break prison, or a bribe for the officers. CON. For us, sir? FAL. For you, sir! what colour’s silver, I pray? you ne’er saw money in your life: I’ll not trust you with him.—Latronello and Fucato, lay hold upon him; to your charge I commit him. FUR. O, I beseech you, sir! FAL. Nay, if I must be cruel, I will be cruel. FUR. Good sir, let me rather go to prison. FAL. You desire that? I’ll trust no prison with you: I’ll make you lie in mine own house, or I’ll know why I shall not. FUR. Merciful sir! FAL. Since you have no pity, I will be cruel. PHŒ. Very good, sir; you please us well. FAL. You shall appear to-morrow, sirs. FUR. Upon my knees, sir! FAL. You shall be hanged out a’ th’ way.—Away with him, Latronello and Fucato!—Officers, I discharge you my house; I like not your company. Report me as you see me, fire and fuel; If men be Jews, justices must be cruel. [_Exeunt all but_ PHŒNIX _and_ FIDELIO. PHŒ. So, sir, extremes set off all actions thus, Either too tame, or else too tyrannous: He being bent to fury, I doubt now We shall not gain access unto your love, Or she to us. FID. Most wishfully here she comes.

_Enter_ NIECE.

PHŒ. Is that she? FID. This is she, my lord. PHŒ. A modest presence. FID. Virtue bless you, lady! NIECE. You wish me well, sir. FID. I’d first in charge this kiss, and next this paper; You’ll know the language; ’tis Fidelio’s. NIECE. My ever-vowed love! how is his health? FID. As fair as is his favour with the prince. NIECE. I’m sick with joy: does the prince love him so? FID. His life cannot requite it. Not to wrong the remembrance of his love, I had a token for you, kept it safe, Till by misfortune of the way this morning, Thieves set upon this gentleman and myself, And with the rest robb’d that. NIECE. Was it your loss?[885] O me, I’m dearly sorry for your chance! They boldly look you in the face that robb’d you; No farther villains than my uncle’s men. PHŒ. What, lady? NIECE. ’Tis my grief I speak so true. FID. Why, my lord[886]—— PHŒ. But give me pausing, lady; was he one That took th’ examination? NIECE. One, and the chief. PHŒ. Henceforth hang him that is no way a thief; Then I hope few will suffer. Nay, all the jest was, he committed him To the charge of his fellows, and the rogue Made it lamentable, cried to leave ’em: None live so wise but fools may once deceive ’em. FID. An uncle so insatiate! PHŒ. Ay, is’t not strange too, That all should be by nature vicious, And he bad against nature? NIECE. Then you have heard the sum of all my wrongs? PHŒ. Lady, we have, and desire rather now To heal ’em than to hear ’em: For by a letter from Fidelio Direct to us, we are intreated jointly To hasten your remove from this foul den Of theft and purpos’d incest. NIECE. I rejoice In his chaste care of me: I’ll soon be furnish’d. FID. He writes that his return cannot be long. NIECE. I’m chiefly glad,—but whither is the place? PHŒ. To the safe seat of his late wronged mother. NIECE. I desire it; Her conference will fit mine: well you prevail. PHŒ. At next grove we’ll expect you. NIECE. I’ll not fail. [_Exeunt._