ACT V. SCENE I.

_A gallery in the castle._

_Enter_ BEATRICE: _a clock strikes one._

BEAT. One struck, and yet she lies by’t! O, my fears! This strumpet serves her own ends, ’tis apparent now, Devours the pleasure with a greedy appetite, And never minds my honour or my peace, Makes havoc of my right; but she pays dearly for’t; No trusting of her life with such a secret, That cannot rule her blood to keep her promise; Beside, I've some suspicion of her faith to me, Because I was suspected of my lord, And it must come from her [_clock strikes two_]: hark! by my horrors, Another clock strikes two!

_Enter_ DE FLORES.

DE F. Pist![490] where are you? BEAT. De Flores? DE F. Ay: is she not come from him yet? BEAT. As I'm a living soul, not! DE F. Sure the devil Hath sow’d his itch within her; who would trust A waiting-woman? BEAT. I must trust somebody. DE F. Push![491] they’re termagants; Especially when they fall upon their masters And have their ladies' first-fruits; they’re mad whelps, You cannot stave ’em off from game royal: then You are so harsh[492] and hardy, ask no counsel; And I could have help’d you to a ’pothecary’s daughter Would have fall’n off before eleven, and thank['d] you too. BEAT. O me, not yet! this whore forgets herself. DE F. The rascal fares so well: look, you’re undone; The day-star, by this hand! see, Phosphorus plain yonder. BEAT. Advise me now to fall upon some ruin; There is no counsel safe else. DE F. Peace! I ha’t now, For we must force a rising, there’s no remedy. BEAT. How? take heed of that. DE F. Tush! be you quiet, or else give over all. BEAT. Prithee—I ha' done then. DE F. This is my reach: I'll set Some part a-fire of Diaphanta’s chamber. BEAT. How? fire, sir? that may endanger the whole house. DE F. You talk of danger when your fame’s on fire? BEAT. That’s true; do what thou wilt now. DE F. Push! I aim At a most rich success strikes all dead sure: The chimney being a-fire, and some light parcels Of the least danger in her chamber only, If Diaphanta should be met by chance then Far from her lodging, which is now suspicious, It would be thought her fears and affrights then Drove her to seek for succour; if not seen Or met at all, as that’s the likeliest, For her own shame she’ll hasten towards her lodging; I will be ready with a piece high-charg’d, As ’twere to cleanse the chimney, there ’tis proper now, But she shall be the mark. BEAT. I'm forc’d to love thee now, 'Cause thou provid’st so carefully for my honour. DE F. ’Slid, it concerns the safety of us both, Our pleasure and continuance. BEAT. One word now, prithee; How for the servants? DE F. I will despatch them, Some one way, some another in the hurry, For buckets, hooks, ladders; fear not you, The deed shall find its time; and I've thought since Upon a safe conveyance for the body too: How this fire purifies wit! watch you your minute. BEAT. Fear keeps my soul upon’t, I cannot stray from’t.

_Enter Ghost of_ ALONZO.

DE F. Ha! what art thou that tak’st away the light Betwixt that star and me? I dread thee not: ’Twas but a mist of conscience; all’s clear again. [_Exit._ BEAT. Who’s that, De Flores? bless me, it slides by! [_Exit Ghost._ Some ill thing haunts the house; ’t has left behind it A shivering sweat upon me; I'm afraid now: This night hath been so tedious! O this strumpet! Had she a thousand lives, he should not leave her Till he had destroy’d the last. List! O my terrors! [_Clock strikes three._ Three struck by St. Sebastian’s! VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire! BEAT. Already? how rare is that man’s speed! How heartily he serves me! his face loathes one; But look upon his care, who would not love him? The east is not more beauteous than his service. VOICES [_within_]. Fire, fire, fire!

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES: _Servants pass over the stage_.

DE F. Away, despatch! hooks, buckets, ladders! that’s well said. [_Bell rings within._ The fire-bell rings; the chimney works, my charge; The piece is ready. [_Exit._ BEAT. Here’s a man worth loving!

_Enter_ DIAPHANTA. O, you’re a jewel! DIA. Pardon frailty, madam; In troth, I was so well, I even forgot myself. BEAT. You’ve made trim work! DIA. What? BEAT. Hie quickly to your chamber; Your reward follows you. DIA. I never made So sweet a bargain. [_Exit._

_Enter_ ALSEMERO.

ALS. O, my dear Joanna, Alas! art thou risen too? I was coming, My absolute treasure! BEAT. When I miss’d you, I could not choose but follow. ALS. Thou’rt all sweetness: The fire is not so dangerous. BEAT. Think you so, sir? ALS. I prithee, tremble not; believe me, ’tis not.

_Enter_ VERMANDERO _and_ JASPERINO.

VER. O, bless my house and me! ALS. My lord your father.

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES _with a gun_.

VER. Knave, whither goes that piece? DE F. To scour the chimney. VER. O, well said, well said! [_Exit_ DE FLORES. That fellow’s good on all occasions. BEAT. A wondrous necessary man, my lord. VER. He hath a ready wit; he’s worth ’em all, sir; Dog at a house of[493] fire; I ha' seen him sing’d ere now.— [_Gun fired off within._ Ha, there he goes! BEAT. ’Tis done! [_Aside._ ALS. Come, sweet, to bed now; Alas, thou wilt get cold! BEAT. Alas, the fear keeps that out! My heart will find no quiet till I hear How Diaphanta, my poor woman, fares; It is her chamber, sir, her lodging chamber. VER. How should the fire come there? BEAT. As good a soul as ever lady countenanc’d, But in her chamber negligent and heavy: She ’scap’d a mine twice. VER. Twice? BEAT. Strangely twice, sir. VER. Those sleepy sluts are dangerous in a house, And[494] they be ne’er so good.

_Re-enter_ DE FLORES.

DE F. O, poor virginity, Thou hast paid dearly for’t! VER. Bless us, what’s that? DE F. A thing you all knew once, Diaphanta’s burnt. BEAT. My woman! O, my woman! DE F. Now the flames Are greedy of her; burnt, burnt, burnt to death, sir! BEAT. O my presaging soul! ALS. Not a tear more! I charge you by the last embrace I gave you In bed, before this rais’d us. BEAT. Now you tie me; Were it my sister, now she gets no more.

_Enter Servant._

VER. How now? SER. All danger’s past; you may now take Your rests, my lords; the fire is throughly quench’d: Ah, poor gentlewoman, how soon was she stifled! BEAT. De Flores, what is left of her inter, And we as mourners all will follow her: I will entreat that honour to my servant Even of my lord himself. ALS. Command it, sweetness. BEAT. Which of you spied the fire first? DE F. ’Twas I, madam. BEAT. And took such pains in’t too? a double goodness! 'Twere well he were rewarded. VER. He shall be.— De Flores, call upon me. ALS. And upon me, sir. [_Exeunt all except_ DE FLORES. DE F. Rewarded? precious! here’s a trick beyond me: I see in all bouts, both of sport and wit, Always a woman strives for the last hit. [_Exit._