SCENE V.--LEVIDULCIA'S _Apartment.

_Enter_ LEVIDULCIA _manned_[151] _by_ FRESCO.

_Lev._ Thou art welcome into my chamber, Fresco. Prithee shut the door.--Nay; thou mistakest me. Come in and shut it.

_Free._ 'Tis somewhat late, madam.

_Lev._ No matter. I have somewhat to say to thee. What, is not thy mistress towards a husband yet?

_Fres._ Faith, madam, she has suitors, but they will not suit her, methinks. They will not come off lustily, it seems.

_Lev._ They will not come on lustily, thou wouldst say.

_Fres._ I mean, madam they are not rich enough.

_Lev._ But ay, Fresco, they are not bold enough. Thy mistress is of a lively attractive blood, Fresco, and in truth she is of my mind for that. A poor spirit is poorer than a poor purse. Give me a fellow that brings not only temptation with him, but has the activity of wit and audacity of spirit to apply every word and gesture of a woman's speech and behaviour to his own desire, and make her believe she's the suitor herself; never give back till he has made her yield to it.

_Fres._ Indeed among our equals, madam; but otherwise we shall be put horribly out o' countenance.

_Lev._ Thou art deceived, Fresco. Ladies are as courteous as yeomen's wives, and methinks they should be more gentle. Hot diet and soft ease makes 'em like wax always kept warm, more easy to take impression.--Prithee, untie my shoe.--What, art thou shamefaced too? Go roundly to work, man. My leg is not gouty: 'twill endure the feeling, I warrant thee. Come hither, Fresco; thine ear. S'dainty, I mistook the place, I missed thine ear and hit thy lip.

_Fres._ Your ladyship has made me blush.

_Lev._ That shows thou art full o' lusty blood and thou knowest not how to use it. Let me see thy hand. Thou shouldst not be shamefaced by thy hand, Fresco. Here's a brawny flesh and a hairy skin, both signs of an able body. I do not like these phlegmatic, smooth-skinned, soft-fleshed fellows. They are like candied suckets[152] when they begin to perish, which I would always empty my closet of, and give 'em my chambermaid.--I have some skill in palmistry: by this line that stands directly against me thou shouldst be near a good fortune, Fresco, if thou hadst the grace to entertain it.

_Fres._ O what is that, madam, I pray?

_Lev._ No less than the love of a fair lady, if thou dost not lose her with faint-heartedness.

_Fres._ A lady, madam? Alas, a lady is a great thing: I cannot compass her.

_Lev._ No? Why, I am a lady. Am I so great I cannot be compassed? Clasp my waist, and try.

_Fres._ I could find i' my heart, madam--[SEBASTIAN _knocks within._

_Lev._ 'Uds body, my husband! Faint-hearted fool! I think thou wert begotten between the North Pole and the congealed passage.[153] Now, like an ambitious coward that betrays himself with fearful delay, you must suffer for the treason you never committed. Go, hide thyself behind yon arras instantly. [FRESCO _hides himself._

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN.

Sebastian! What do you here so late?

_Sebas._ Nothing yet, but I hope I shall. [_Kisses her._

_Lev._ Y'are very bold.

_Sebas._ And you very valiant, for you met me at full career.[154]

_Lev._ You come to ha' me move your father's reconciliation. I'll write a word or two i' your behalf.

_Sebas._ A word or two, madam? That you do for me will not be contained in less than the compass of two sheets. But in plain terms shall we take the opportunity of privateness.

_Lev._ What to do?

_Sebas._ To dance the beginning of the world after the English manner.

_Lev._ Why not after the French or Italian?

_Sebas._ Fie! they dance it preposterously; backward!

_Lev._ Are you so active to dance?

_Sebas._ I can shake my heels.

_Lev._ Y'are well made for't.

_Sebas._ Measure me from top to toe you shall not find me differ much from the true standard of proportion. [BELFOREST _knocks within._

_Lev._ I think I am accursed, Sebastian. There's one at the door has beaten opportunity away from us. In brief, I love thee, and it shall not be long before I give thee a testimony of it. To save thee now from suspicion do no more but draw thy rapier, chafe thyself, and when he comes in, rush by without taking notice of him. Only seem to be angry, and let me alone for the rest.[155]

_Enter_ BELFOREST.

_Sebas._ Now by the hand of Mercury--[_Exit._

_Bel._ What's the matter, wife?

_Lev._ Oh, oh, husband!

_Bel._ Prithee what ail'st thou, woman?

_Lev._ O feel my pulse. It beats, I warrant you. Be patient a little, sweet husband: tarry but till my breath come to me again and I'll satisfy you.

_Bel._ What ails Sebastian? He looks so distractedly.

_Lev._ The poor gentleman's almost out on's wits, I think. You remember the displeasure his father took against him about the liberty of speech he used even now, when your daughter went to be married?

_Bel._ Yes. What of that?

_Lev._ 'T has crazed him sure. He met a poor man i' the street even now. Upon what quarrel I know not, but he pursued him so violently that if my house had not been his rescue he had surely killed him.

_Bel._ What a strange desperate young man is that!

_Lev._ Nay, husband, he grew so in rage, when he saw the man was conveyed from him, that he was ready even to have drawn his naked weapon upon me. And had not your knocking at the door prevented him, surely he'd done something to me.

_Bel._ Where's the man?

_Lev._ Alas, here! I warrant you the poor fearful soul is scarce come to himself again yet.--If the fool have any wit he will apprehend me. [_Aside._]--Do you hear, sir? You may be bold to come forth: the fury that haunted you is gone. [FRESCO _peeps fearfully forth from behind the arras._

_Fres._ Are you sure he is gone?

_Bel._ He's gone, he's gone, I warrant thee.

_Fres._ I would I were gone too. H's shook me almost into a dead palsy.

_Bel._ How fell the difference between you?

_Fres._ I would I were out at the back door.

_Bel._ Thou art safe enough. Prithee tell's the falling out.

_Fres._ Yes, sir, when I have recovered my spirits. My memory is almost frighted from me.--Oh, so, so, so!--Why, sir, as I came along the street, sir--this same gentleman came stumbling after me and trod o' my heel.--I cried O. Do you cry, sirrah? says he. Let me see your heel; if it be not hurt I'll make you cry for something. So he claps my head between his legs and pulls off my shoe. I having shifted no socks in a sen'night, the gentleman cried foh! and said my feet were base and cowardly feet, they stunk for fear. Then he knocked my shoe about my pate, and I cried O once more. In the meantime comes a shag-haired dog by, and rubs against his shins. The gentleman took the dog in shag-hair to be some watchman in a rug gown, and swore he would hang me up at the next door with my lanthorn in my hand, that passengers might see their way as they went, without rubbing against gentlemen's shins. So, for want of a cord, he took his own garters off, and as he was going to make a noose, I watched my time and ran away. And as I ran, indeed I bid him hang himself in his own garters. So he, in choler, pursued me hither, as you see.

_Bel._ Why, this savours of distraction.

_Lev._ Of mere distraction.

_Fres._ Howsover it savours, I am sure it smells like a lie. [_Aside._

_Bel._ Thou may'st go forth at the back door, honest fellow; the way is private and safe.

_Fres._ So it had need, for your fore-door here is both common and dangerous. [_Exit_ BELFOREST.

_Lev._ Good night, honest Fresco.

_Fres._ Good night, madam. If you get me kissing o' ladies again!--[_Exit._

_Lev._ This falls out handsomely. But yet the matter does not well succeed, Till I have brought it to the very deed. [_Exit._