SCENE II.

_A hall in_ LIVIA’S _house_.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

HIP. The morning so far wasted, yet his baseness So impudent! see if the very sun Do not blush at him! Dare he do thus much, and know me alive? Put case one must be vicious, as I know myself Monstrously guilty, there’s a blind time made for’t, He might use only that,—'twere conscionable; Art, silence, closeness, subtlety, and darkness, Are fit for such a business; but there’s no pity To be bestow’d on an apparent sinner, An impudent daylight lecher. The great zeal I bear to her advancement in this match With lord Vincentio, as the Duke has wrought it, To the perpetual honour of our house, Puts fire into my blood to purge the air Of this corruption, fear it spread too far, And poison the whole hopes of this fair fortune. I love her good so dearly, that no brother Shall venture farther for a sister’s glory Than I for her preferment.

_Enter_ LEANTIO _and a Page_.

LEAN. Once again I'll see that glistering whore, shines like a serpent Now the court sun’s upon her. [_Aside._]—Page. PAGE. Anon, sir. LEAN. I'll go in state too. [_Aside._]—See the coach be ready; [_Exit Page._ I'll hurry away presently. HIP. Yes, you shall hurry, And the devil after you: take that at setting forth: [_Strikes him._ Now, and[1098] you’ll draw, we’re upon equal terms, sir. Thou took’st advantage of my name in honour Upon my sister; I ne’er saw the stroke Come, till I found my reputation bleeding; And therefore count it I no sin to valour To serve thy lust so: now we’re of even hand, Take your best course against me. You must die. LEAN. How close sticks envy to man’s happiness! When I was poor, and little car’d for life, I had no such means offer’d me to die, No man’s wrath minded me.—Slave, I turn this to thee, [_Draws._ To call thee to account for a wound lately Of a base stamp upon me. HIP. ’Twas most fit For a base metal: come and fetch one now More noble then, for I will use thee fairer Than thou hast done thine [own] soul, or our honour; [_They fight._ And there I think ’tis for thee. [LEANTIO _falls_. [_Voices within_] Help, help! O, part ’em! LEAN. False wife, I feel now thou’st pray’d heartily for me: Rise, strumpet, by my fall! thy lust may reign now: My heart-string, and the marriage-knot that tied thee, Break[1099] both together. [_Dies._ HIP. There I heard the sound on’t, And never lik’d string better.

_Enter_ GUARDIANO, LIVIA, ISABELLA, _the Ward, and_ SORDIDO.

LIV. ’Tis my brother! Are you hurt, sir? HIP. Not any thing. LIV. Blest fortune! Shift for thyself: what is he thou hast kill’d? HIP. Our honour’s enemy. GUAR. Know you this man, lady? LIV. Leantio! my love’s joy!—Wounds stick upon thee As deadly as thy sins! art thou not hurt— The devil take that fortune!—and he dead? Drop plagues into thy bowels without voice, Secret and fearful!—Run for officers; Let him be apprehended with all speed, For fear he ’scape away; lay hands on him, We cannot be too sure, ’tis wilful murder:[1100] You do heaven’s vengeance and the law just service: You know him not as I do; he’s a villain As monstrous as a prodigy and as dreadful. HIP. Will you but entertain a noble patience Till you but hear the reason, worthy sister? LIV. The reason! that’s a jest hell falls a-laughing at: Is there a reason found for the destruction Of our more lawful loves, and was there none To kill the black lust ’twixt thy niece and thee, That has kept close so long? GUAR. How’s that, good madam? LIV. Too true, sir; there she stands, let her deny’t: The deed cries shortly in the midwife’s arms, Unless the parents' sins strike it still-born; And if you be not deaf and ignorant, You’ll hear strange notes ere long.—Look upon me, wench; ’Twas I betray’d thy honour subtlely to him, Under a false tale; it lights upon me now.— His arm has paid me home upon thy breast, My sweet, belov’d Leantio! GUAR. Was my judgment And care in choice so devilishly abus’d, So beyond shamefully? all the world will grin at me. WARD. O Sordido, Sordido, I'm damn’d, I'm damn’d! SOR. Damn’d? why, sir? WARD. One of the wicked; dost not see’t? a cuckold, a plain reprobate cuckold! SOR. Nay, and[1101] you be damned for that, be of good cheer, sir, you’ve gallant company of all professions; I'll have a wife next Sunday too, because I'll along with you myself. WARD. That will be some comfort yet. LIV. You, sir, that bear your load of injuries, As I of sorrows, lend me your griev’d strength To this sad burden [_pointing to the body of_ LEANTIO], who in life wore actions, Flames were not nimbler: we will talk of things May have the luck to break our hearts together. GUAR. I'll list to nothing but revenge and anger, Whose counsels I will follow. [_Exeunt._ LIVIA _and_ GUARDIANO _with the body of_ LEANTIO. SOR. A wife, quoth ’a? Here’s a sweet plum-tree of your guardianer’s graffing! WARD. Nay, there’s a worse name belongs to this fruit yet, and[1101] you could hit on’t, a more open one; for he that marries a whore looks like a fellow bound all his lifetime to a medlar-tree, and that’s good stuff; ’tis no sooner ripe, but it looks rotten, and so do some queans at nineteen. A pox on’t! I thought there was some knavery a-broach, for something stirred in her belly the first night I lay with her. SOR. What, what, sir? WARD. This is she brought up so courtly, can sing, and dance!—and tumble too, methinks: I'll never marry wife again that has so many qualities. SOR. Indeed, they are seldom good, master; for likely when they are taught so many, they will have one trick more of their own finding out. Well, give me a wench but with one good quality, to lie with none but her husband, and that’s bringing up enough for any woman breathing. WARD. This was the fault when she was tendered to me; you never looked to this. SOR. Alas, how would you have me see through a great farthingale, sir? I cannot peep through a mill-stone, or in the going, to see what’s done i' the bottom. WARD. Her father praised her breast;[1102] sh’ad the voice, forsooth! I marvelled she sung so small indeed, being no maid: now I perceive there’s a young quirister in her belly, this breeds a singing in my head, I'm sure. SOR. ’Tis but the tune of your wife’s sinquapace[1103] danced in a feather-bed: faith, go lie down, master; but take heed your horns do not make holes in the pillowbeers.[1104]—I would not batter brows with him for a hogshead of angels;[1105] he would prick my skull as full of holes as a scrivener’s sand-box.

[_Aside._—_Exeunt Ward and_ SORDIDO. ISA. Was ever maid so cruelly beguil’d, To the confusion of life, soul, and honour, All of one woman’s murdering! I'd fain bring Her name no nearer to my blood than woman, And ’tis too much of that. O, shame and horror! In that small distance from yon man to me Lies sin enough to make a whole world perish.— [_Aside._ ’Tis time we parted, sir, and left the sight Of one another; nothing can be worse To hurt repentance, for our very eyes Are far more poisonous to religion Than basilisks to them: if any goodness Rest in you, hope of comforts, fear of judgments, My request is, I ne’er may see you more; And so I turn me from you everlastingly, So is my hope to miss you: but for her That durst so dally with a sin so dangerous, And lay a snare so spitefully for my youth, If the least means but favour my revenge, That I may practise the like cruel cunning Upon her life as she has on mine honour, I'll act it without pity. HIP. Here’s a care Of reputation and a sister’s fortune Sweetly rewarded by her! would a silence, As great as that which keeps among the graves, Had everlastingly chain’d up her tongue! My love to her has made mine miserable.

_Re-enter_ GUARDIANO _and_ LIVIA.

GUAR. If you can but dissemble your heart’s griefs now,— Be but a woman so far. LIV. Peace; I'll strive, sir. GUAR. As I can wear my injuries in a smile: Here’s an occasion offer’d, that gives anger Both liberty and safety to perform Things worth the fire it holds, without the fear Of danger or of law; for mischiefs acted Under the privilege of a marriage-triumph, At the Duke’s hasty nuptials, will be thought Things merely accidental, all’s[1106] by chance, Not got of their own natures. LIV. I conceive you, sir, Even to a longing for performance on’t; And here behold some fruits.—[_Kneels to_ HIPPOLITO _and_ ISABELLA.] Forgive me both: What I am now, return’d to sense and judgment, Is not the same rage and distraction Presented lately to you,—that rude form Is gone for ever; I am now myself, That speaks all peace and friendship, and these tears Are the true springs of hearty, penitent sorrow For those foul wrongs which my forgetful fury Slander’d your virtues with: this gentleman Is well resolv’d[1107] now. GUAR. I was never otherwise; I knew, alas, ’twas but your anger spake it, And I ne’er thought on’t more. HIP. [_raising_ LIVIA] Pray, rise, good sister. ISA. Here’s even as sweet amends made for a wrong now, As one that gives a wound, and pays the surgeon; All the smart’s nothing, the great loss of blood, Or time of hindrance: well, I had a mother, I can dissemble too. [_Aside._]—What wrongs have slipt Through anger’s ignorance, aunt, my heart forgives. GUAR. Why, thus[1108] tuneful now! HIP. And what I did, sister, Was all for honour’s cause, which time to come Will approve to you. LIV. Being awak’d to goodness, I understand so much, sir, and praise now The fortune of your arm and of your safety; For by his death you’ve rid me of a sin As costly as e’er woman doated on: 'T has pleas’d the Duke so well too, that, behold, sir, [_Giving paper._ Has sent you here your pardon, which I kiss’d With most affectionate comfort: when ’twas brought, Then was my fit just past; it came so well, methought, To glad my heart. HIP. I see his grace thinks on me. LIV. There’s no talk now but of the preparation For the great marriage. HIP. Does he marry her, then? LIV. With all speed, suddenly, as fast as cost Can be laid on with many thousand hands. This gentleman and I had once a purpose To have honour’d the first marriage of the Duke With an invention of his own; ’twas ready, The pains well past, most of the charge bestow’d on’t, Then came the death of your good mother, niece, And turn’d the glory of it all to black: ’Tis a device would fit these times so well too, Art’s treasury not better: if you’ll join, It shall be done; the cost shall all be mine. HIP. You’ve my voice first; ’twill well approve my thankfulness For the Duke’s love and favour. LIV. What say you, niece? ISA. I am content to make one. GUAR. The plot’s full then; Your pages, madam, will make shift for Cupids. LIV. That will they, sir. GUAR. You’ll play your old part still. LIV. What is it? good troth, I have even forgot it. GUAR. Why, Juno Pronuba, the marriage-goddess. LIV. ’Tis right indeed. GUAR. And you shall play the Nymph, That offers sacrifice to appease her wrath. ISA. Sacrifice, good sir? LIV. Must I be appeas’d then? GUAR. That’s as you list yourself, as you see cause. LIV. Methinks ’twould shew the more state in her deity To be incens’d. ISA. ’Twould; but my sacrifice Shall take a course to appease you;—or I'll fail in’t, And teach a sinful bawd to play a goddess. [_Aside, and exit._ GUAR. For our parts, we’ll not be ambitious, sir: Please you, walk in and see the project drawn, Then take your choice. HIP. I weigh not, so I have one. [_Exeunt._ GUARDIANO _and_ HIPPOLITO. LIV. How much ado have I to restrain fury From breaking into curses! O, how painful ’tis To keep great sorrow smother’d! sure, I think ’Tis harder to dissemble grief than love. Leantio, here the weight of thy loss lies, Which nothing but destruction can suffice. [_Exit._