SCENE I._--A Room in_ GRATIANA'S _House.

_Enter_ CASTIZA.

_Cas._ How hardly shall that maiden be beset, Whose only fortunes are her constant thoughts! That has no other child's part but her honour, That keeps her low and empty in estate; Maids and their honours are like poor beginners; Were not sin rich, there would be fewer sinners; Why had not virtue a revenue? Well, I know the cause, 'twould have impoverished hell.

_Enter_ DONDOLO.

How now, Dondolo?

_Don._ Madonna, there is one as they say, a thing of flesh and blood--a man, I take him by his beard, that would very desirously mouth to mouth with you.

_Cas._ What's that?

_Don._ Show his teeth in your company.

_Cas._ I understand thee not.

_Don._ Why, speak with you, madonna.

_Cas._ Why, say so, madman, and cut off a great deal of dirty way; had it not been better spoke in ordinary words, that one would speak with me?

_Don._ Ha, ha! that's as ordinary as two shillings. I would strive a little to show myself in my place; a gentleman-usher scorns to use the phrase and fancy of a serving-man.

_Cas._ Yours be your own, sir; go, direct him hither; [_Exit_ DONDOLO. I hope some happy tidings from my brother, That lately travelled, whom my soul affects. Here he comes.

_Enter_ VENDICE, _disguised._

_Ven._ Lady, the best of wishes to your sex-- Fair skins and new gowns.

_Cas._ O, they shall thank you, sir. Whence this?

_Ven._ O, from a dear and worthy mighty friend.

_Cas._ From whom?

_Ven._ The duke's son!

_Cas._ Receive that. [_Boxes his ear._ I swore I would put anger in my hand, And pass the virgin limits of my sex, To him that next appeared in that base office, To be his sin's attorney. Bear to him That figure of my hate upon thy cheek, Whilst 'tis yet hot, and I'll reward thee for't; Tell him my honour shall have a rich name, When several harlots shall share his with shame. Farewell; commend me to him in my hate. [_Exit._

_Ven._ It is the sweetest box that e'er my nose came nigh; The finest drawn-work cuff that e'er was worn; I'll love this blow for ever, and this cheek Shall still henceforward take the wall of this. O, I'm above my tongue: most constant sister, In this thou hast right honourable shown; Many are called by[197] their honour, that have none; Thou art approved for ever in my thoughts. It is not in the power of words to taint thee. And yet for the salvation of my oath, As my resolve in that point, I will lay Hard siege unto my mother, though I know A syren's tongue could not bewitch her so. Mass, fitly here she comes! thanks, my disguise-- Madam, good afternoon.

_Enter_ GRATIANA.

_Gra._ Y'are welcome, sir.

_Ven._ The next[198] of Italy commends him to you, Our mighty expectation, the duke's son.

_Gra._ I think myself much honoured that he pleases To rank me in his thoughts.

_Ven._ So may you, lady: One that is like to be our sudden duke; The crown gapes for him every tide, and then Commander o'er us all; do but think on him, How blessed were they, now that could pleasure him-- E'en with anything almost!

_Gra._ Ay, save their honour.

_Ven._ Tut, one would let a little of that go too, And ne'er be seen in't--ne'er be seen in't, mark you: I'd wink, and let it go.

_Gra._ Marry, but I would not.

_Ven._ Marry but I would, I hope; I know you would too, If you'd that blood now, which you gave your daughter. To her indeed 'tis this wheel[199] comes about; That man that must be all this, perhaps ere morning (For his white father does but mould away), Has long desired your daughter.

_Gra._ Desired?

_Ven._ Nay, but hear me; He desires now, that will command hereafter: Therefore be wise. I speak as more a friend To you than him: madam, I know you're poor, And, 'lack the day! There are too many poor ladies already; Why should you wax the number? 'Tis despised. Live wealthy, rightly understand the world, And chide away that foolish country girl Keeps company with your daughter--Chastity.

_Gra._ O fie, fie! the riches of the world cannot hire A mother to such a most unnatural task.

_Ven._ No, but a thousand angels[200] can. Men have no power, angels must work you to't: The world descends into such baseborn evils, That forty angels can make fourscore devils. There will be fools still, I perceive--still fools. Would I be poor, dejected, scorned of greatness, Swept from the palace, and see others' daughters Spring with the dew o' the court, having mine own So much desired and loved by the duke's son? No, I would raise my state upon her breast; And call her eyes my tenants; I would count My yearly maintenance upon her cheeks; Take coach upon her lip; and all her parts Should keep men after men, and I would ride In pleasure upon pleasure. You took great pains for her, once when it was; Let her requite it now, though it be but some. You brought her forth: she may well bring you home.

_Gra._ O Heavens! this o'ercomes me!

_Ven._ Not, I hope, already? [_Aside._

_Gra._ It is too strong for me; men know that know us, We are so weak their words can overthrow us; He touched me nearly, made my virtues bate,[201] When his tongue struck upon my poor estate. [_Aside._

_Ven._ I e'en quake to proceed, my spirit turns edge. I fear me she's unmothered; yet I'll venture. "That woman is all male, whom none can enter." [_Aside._ What think you now, lady? Speak, are you wiser? What said advancement to you? Thus it said: The daughter's fall lifts up the mother's head. Did it not, madam? But I'll swear it does In many places: tut, this age fears no man. "'Tis no shame to be bad, because 'tis common."

_Gra._ Ay, that's the comfort on't.

_Ven._ The comfort on't! I keep the best for last--can these persuade you To forget Heaven--and--[_Gives her money._

_Gra._ Ay, these are they--

_Ven._ O!

_Gra._ That enchant our sex. These are The means that govern our affections--that woman Will not be troubled with the mother long, That sees the comfortable shine of you: I blush to think what for your sakes I'll do.

_Ven._ O suffering[202] Heaven, with thy invisible finger, E'en at this instant turn the precious side Of both mine eyeballs inward, not to see myself. [_Aside._

_Gra._ Look you, sir.

_Ven._ Hollo.

_Gra._ Let this thank your pains.

_Ven._ O, you're kind, madam.

_Gra._ I'll see how I can move.

_Ven._ Your words will sting.

_Gra._ If she be still chaste, I'll ne'er call her mine.

_Ven._ Spoke truer than you meant it.

_Gra._ Daughter Castiza.

_Re-enter_ CASTIZA.

_Cas._ Madam.

_Ven._ O, she's yonder; Meet her: troops of celestial soldiers guard her heart. Yon dam has devils enough to take her part.

_Cas._ Madam, what makes yon evil-officed man In presence of you?

_Gra._ Why?

_Cas._ He lately brought Immodest writing sent from the duke's son, To tempt me to dishonourable act.

_Gra._ Dishonourable act!--good honourable fool, That wouldst be honest, 'cause thou wouldst be so, Producing no one reason but thy will. And't has a good report, prettily commended, But pray, by whom? Poor people, ignorant people; The better sort, I'm sure, cannot abide it. And by what rule should we square out our lives, But by our betters' actions? O, if thou knew'st What 'twere to lose it, thou would never keep it! But there's a cold curse laid upon all maids, Whilst others clip[203] the sun, they clasp the shades. Virginity is paradise locked up. You cannot come by yourselves without fee; And 'twas decreed that man should keep the key! Deny advancement! treasure! the duke's son!

_Cas._ I cry you mercy! lady, I mistook you! Pray did you see my mother? which way went you? Pray God, I have not lost her.

_Ven._ Prettily put by! [_Aside._

_Gra._ Are you as proud to me, as coy to him? Do you not know me now?

_Cas._ Why, are you she? The world's so changed one shape into another, It is a wise child now that knows her mother.

_Ven._ Most right i' faith. [_Aside._

_Gra._ I owe your cheek my hand For that presumption now; but I'll forget it. Come, you shall leave those childish 'haviours, And understand your time. Fortunes flow to you; What, will you be a girl? If all feared drowning that spy waves ashore, Gold would grow rich, and all the merchants poor.

_Cas._ It is a pretty saying of a wicked one; But methinks now it does not show so well Out of your mouth--better in his!

_Ven._ Faith, bad enough in both, Were I in earnest, as I'll seem no less. [_Aside._ I wonder, lady, your own mother's words Cannot be taken, nor stand in full force. 'Tis honesty you urge; what's honesty? 'Tis but Heaven's beggar; and what woman is So foolish to keep honesty, And be not able to keep herself? No, Times are grown wiser, and will keep less charge. A maid that has small portion now intends To break up house, and live upon her friends; How blessed are you! you have happiness alone; Others must fall to thousands, you to one, Sufficient in himself to make your forehead Dazzle the world with jewels, and petitionary people Start at your presence.

_Gra._ O, if I were young, I should be ravished.

_Cas._ Ay, to lose your honour!

_Ven._ 'Slid, how can you lose your honour To deal with my lord's grace? He'll add more honour to it by his title; Your mother will tell you how.

_Gra._ That I will.

_Ven._ O, think upon the pleasure of the palace! Secured ease and state! the stirring meats, Ready to move out of the dishes, that e'en now Quicken when they are eaten! Banquets abroad by torchlight! music! sports! Bareheaded vassals, that had ne'er the fortune To keep on their own hats, but let horns[204] wear 'em! Nine coaches waiting--hurry, hurry, hurry--

_Cas._ Ay, to the devil,

_Ven._ Ay, to the devil! [_Aside._] To the duke, by my faith.

_Gra._ Ay, to the duke: daughter, you'd scorn to think o' the devil, an you were there once.

_Ven._ True, for most there are as proud as he for his heart, i' faith. [_Aside._ Who'd sit at home in a neglected room, Dealing her short-lived beauty to the pictures, That are as useless as old men, when those Poorer in face and fortune than herself Walk with a hundred acres on their backs,[205] Fair meadows cut into green foreparts? O, It was the greatest blessing ever happened to woman When farmers' sons agreed and met again, To wash their hands, and come up gentlemen! The commonwealth has flourished ever since: Lands that were mete[206] by the rod, that labour's spared: Tailors ride down, and measure 'em by the yard. Fair trees, those comely foretops of the field, Are cut to maintain head-tires--much untold. All thrives but chastity; she lies a-cold. Nay, shall I come nearer to you? mark but this: Why are there so few honest women, but because 'tis the poorer profession? that's accounted best that's best followed; least in trade, least in fashion; and that's not honesty, believe it; and do but note the love and dejected price of it-- Lose but a pearl, we search, and cannot brook it: But that[207] once gone, who is so mad to look it?

_Gra._ Troth, he says true.

_Cas._ False! I defy you both: I have endured you with an ear of fire; Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face. Mother, come from that poisonous woman there.

_Gra._ Where?

_Cas._ Do you not see her? she's too inward, then! Slave, perish in thy office! you Heavens, please Henceforth to make the mother a disease, Which first begins with me: yet I've outgone you. [_Exit._

_Ven._ O angels, clap your wings upon the skies, And give this virgin crystal plaudites! [_Aside._

_Gra._ Peevish, coy, foolish!--but return this answer, My lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure Conducts him this way. I will sway mine own. Women with women can work best alone. [_Exit._

_Ven._ Indeed, I'll tell him so. O, more uncivil, more unnatural, Than those base-titled creatures that look downward; Why does not Heaven turn black, or with a frown Undo the world? Why does not earth start up, And strike the sins that tread upon't? O, Were't not for gold and women, there would be no damnation. Hell would look like a lord's great kitchen without fire in't. But 'twas decreed, before the world began, That they should be the hooks to catch at man. [_Exit._