Chapter XXI: Act II: , Scene I

_Enter_ PISARO, DELION _the Frenchman_, VANDAL
_the Dutchman,[493] and other Merchants, at several_
_doors_.

PIS. Good morrow, Master Strangers.[494]

STRAN. Good morrow, sir.

PIS. This (loving friends) hath thus emboldened me;
For, knowing the affection and the love,
Master Vandallo, that you bear my daughter.
Likewise, and that with joy, considering too,
You, Monsieur Delion, would fain despatch,
I promise you (methinks, the time did fit,
And does by'r Lady too, in mine advice)
This day to clap a full conclusion up:
And therefore made I bold to call on you,
Meaning (our business done here at the Burse)
That you at mine entreaty should walk home,
And take in worth such viands as I have;
And then we would, and so I hope we shall,
Loosely tie up the knot that you desire,
But for a day or two, and then Church rites
Shall sure conform, confirm, and make all fast.

VAN. Seker, mester Pisaro, me do so groterly danck you, dat you
mack me so sure of de wench, dat it can niet danck you genough.

DEL. Monsieur Pisaro, mon pere, mon vader! O, de grande joy
you give me! ecoute, me sal go home to your house, sal eat
your bacon, sal eat your beef, and sal tack de wench, de fine
demoisella.

PIS. You shall, and welcome; welcome as my soul.
But were my third son, sweet Alvaro, here,
We would not stay at the Exchange[495] to-day;
But hie us home, and there end our affairs.

_Enter_ MOORE _and_ TOWERSON.

MOORE. Good day, Master Pisaro.

PIS. Master Moore, marry, with all my heart, good morrow, sir.
What news? What news?

MOORE. This merchant here, my friend, would speak with you.

TOW. Sir, this jolly south-west wind with gentle blast
Hath driven home our long-expected ships,
All laden with the wealth of ample Spain;
And but a day is pass'd, since they arriv'd
Safely at Plymouth, where they yet abide.

PIS. Thanks is too small a guerdon for such news.
How like you this news, friends? Master Vandal,
Here's somewhat towards for my daughter's dowry:
Here's somewhat more than we did yet expect.

TOW. But hear you, sir; my business is not done:
From these same ships I did receive these lines,
And there enclos'd this same bill of exchange,
To pay at sight, if so you please accept it.

PIS. Accept it, why? What, sir, should I accept?
Have you received letters, and not I?
Where is this lazy villain, this slow post?
What, brings he every man his letters home,
And makes me nobody? does he, does he?
I would not have you bring me counterfeit;
And if you do, assure you I shall smell it:
I know my factor's writing well enough.

TOW. You do, sir; then see your factor's writing.
I scorn as much as you to counterfeit.

PIS. 'Tis well you do, sir.

_Enter_ HARVEY, WALGRAVE, _and_ HEIGHAM.

What! Master Walgrave and my other friends,
You are grown strangers to Pisaro's house:
I pray, make bold with me.

WAL. Ay, with your daughters,
You may be sworn, we'll be as bold as may be.

[_Aside._

PIS. Would you have aught with me? I pray now speak.

HEIGH. Sir, I think you understand our suit,
By the repairing we have had to you:
Gentlemen, you know, must want no coin,
Nor are they slaves unto it, when they have it;
You may perceive our minds; what say you to't?

PIS. Gentlemen all, I love you all: which more
To manifest, this afternoon, between
The hours of two and three, repair to me;
And, were it half the substance that I have,
Whilst it is mine, it is yours to command.
But, gentlemen, as I have regard to you,
So do I wish you'll have respect to me:
You know that all of us are mortal men,
Subject to change and mutability;
You may, or I may, soon pitch o'er the perch,
Or so--or so--have contrary crosses.
Wherefore I deem [it] but mere equity,
That something may betwixt us be to show.

HEIGH. Master Pisaro, within this two months
Without fail we'll repay.

_Enter_ BROWN.

BROWN. God save you, gentlemen.

GENT. Good morrow, sir.

PIS. What, Master Brown! the only man I wish'd for.
Does your price fall? what, shall I have these cloths?
For I would ship them straight away[496] for Stoade.
I do wish you my money 'fore another.

BROWN. Faith, you know my price, sir, if you have them.

PIS. You are too dear in sadness. Master Heigham,
You were about to say somewhat--pray, proceed.

HEIGH. Then this it was: those lands that are not mortgag'd--

_Enter_ POST.

POST. God bless your worship.

PIS. I must crave pardon.--O sirrah, are you come?

WAL. Heyday, heyday! What is the matter now?
Sure, yonder fellow will be torn in pieces.

HAR. What's he, sweet youths, that so they flock about?
What, old Pisaro tainted with this madness?

HEIGH. Upon my life, 'tis somebody brings news.
The court breaks up, and we shall know their council:
Look, look, how busily they fall to reading!

PISA. I am the last: you should have kept it still.
Well, we shall see what news you bring with you--

[_Reads._

"Our duty premised; and we have sent unto your worship sack,
Seville oils, pepper, Barbary sugar, and such other commodities
as we thought most requisite. We wanted money, therefore we are
fain to take up £200 of Master Towerson's man, which by a bill
of exchange, sent to him, we would request your worship pay
accordingly."

You shall command, sir, you shall command, sir.

[_Reads again._

"The news here is, that the English ships, the _Fortune_ (your
ship), the _Adventure_ and _Good Luck_ of London, coasting
along by Italy towards Turkey, were set upon by two Spanish
galleys. What became of them, we know not; but doubt much, by
reason of the weather's calmness."

How is't? six to one, the weather calm?
Now, afore God, who would not doubt their safety?
A plague upon these Spanish-galley pirates!
Roaring Charybdis or devouring Scylla
Were[n't] half such terror to the antique world,
As these same antic[497] villains now of late
Have made the Straits 'twixt Spain and Barbary.

TOW. Now, sir, what doth your factor's letters say?

PIS. Marry, he saith these witless, luckless dolts
Have met, and are beset with Spanish galleys,
As they did sail along by Italy!
What a bots made the dolts near Italy?
Could they not keep the coast of Barbary?
Or, having pass'd it, gone for Tripoli,
Being on the other side of Sicily,
As near as where they were unto the Straits?
For by the globe both Tripoli and it
Lie from the Straits some twenty-five degrees,
And each degree makes threescore English miles.

TOW. Very true, sir: but it makes nothing to
My bill of exchange. This dealing fits not one
Of your account.

PIS. And what fits yours? a prating, wrangling tongue,
A woman's ceaseless and incessant babbling,
That sees the world turn'd topsy-turvy[498] with me.
Yet hath not so much wit to stay a while,
Till I bemoan my late excessive loss.

WAL. 'Swounds! 'tis dinner-time, I'll stay no longer.
Hark you a word, sir.

PIS. I tell you, sir, it would have made you whine
Worse than if shoals of luckless croaking ravens
Had seiz'd on you, to feed their famished paunches,
Had you heard news of such a ravenous rout,
Eeady to seize on half the wealth you have.

WAL. 'Sblood! you might have kept at home, and be hang'd.
What a pox care I?

_Enter a_ POST.

POST. God save your worship: a little money, and so forth.

PIS. But men are senseless now of others' woe:
This stony age is grown so stony-hearted,
That none respects their neighbours' miseries.
I wish (as poets do) that Saturn's times,
The long outworn world, were in use again,
That men might sail without impediment.

POST. Ay, marry, sir, that were a merry world indeed: I would
hope to get more money of your worship in one quarter of a year
than I can do now in a whole twelvemonth.

_Enter_ BALSARO.

BAL. Master Pisaro, how I have run about,
How I have toil'd to-day to find you out!
At home, abroad: at this man's house, at that.
Why, I was here an hour ago and more,
Where I was told you were, but could not find you.

PIS. Faith, sir, I was here, but was driven home.
Here's such a common haunt of crack-rope boys,
That what for fear to have m'apparel spoil'd,
Or my ruffs dirtied, or eyes struck out,
I dare not walk where people do expect me.
Well, things (I think) might be better look'd unto:
And such coin, too, which is bestow'd on knaves,
Which should, but do not, see things be reform'd,
Might be employed to many better uses.
But what of beardless boys or such like trash?
The Spanish galleys! O, a vengeance on them!

POST. Mass, this man hath the luck on't: I think I can scarce
ever come to him for money, but this "A vengeance on't" and
that "A vengeance on't" doth so trouble him, that I can get no
coin. Well, a vengeance on't for my part; for he shall fetch
the next letters himself.

BROWN. I prythee, when thinkest thou the ships will be come
about from Plymouth?

POST. Next week, sir.

HEIGH. Came you, sir, from Spain lately?

POST. Ay, sir: why ask you that?

HAR. Marry, sir, thou seem'st to have been in the hot
countries, thy face looks so like a piece of rusty bacon. Had
thy host at Plymouth meat enough in the house when thou wert
there?

POST. What though he had not, sir? but he had: how then?

HAR. Marry, thank God for it; for otherwise he would doubtless
have cut thee out in rashers to have eaten thee: thou look'st
as thou wert thorough broiled already.

POST. You have said, sir; but I am no meat for his mowing,[499]
nor yours neither. If I had you in place where, you should find
me tough enough in digestion, I warrant you.

WAL. What, will you swagger, sirrah? will ye swagger?

BROWN. I beseech you, sir, hold your hand! get home, ye
patch![500] cannot you suffer gentlemen jest with you?

POST. I'd teach him a gentle trick, and I had him off the
Burse; but I'll watch him a good turn, I warrant him.

MOORE. Assure ye, Master Towerson--I cannot blame him.
I warrant you it is no easy loss;
How think you, master stranger? by my faith, sir,
There's twenty merchants will be sorry for it,
That shall be partners with him in his loss.

STRAN. Why, sir, what is the matter?

MOORE. The Spanish galleys have beset our ships,
That lately were bound out for Syria.

STRAN. What not? I promise you, I am sorry for it.

WAL. What an old ass is this to keep us here.
Master Pisaro, pray despatch us hence.

PIS. Master Vandal, I confess I wrong you:
But I'll but talk a word or two with him,
And straight turn to you. [_To_ HEIGH.] Ah! sir, and how then, faith?

HEIGH. Turn to us? turn to the gallows, if you will.

HAR. 'Tis midsummer-moon with him: let him alone.
He calls Ned Walgrave Master Vandal.

WAL. Let it be Shrovetide, I'll not stay an inch. Master Pisaro.

PIS. What should you fear? and, as I have vow'd before,
So now again, my daughters shall be yours:
And therefore I beseech you and your friends
Defer your business till dinner-time;
And what you'd say, keep it for table-talk.

HAR. Marry, and I shall; a right good motion.
Sirs, old Pisaro is grown kind of late,
And in pure love hath bid us home to dinner.

HEIGH. Good news, in truth. But wherefore art thou sad?

WAL. For fear the slave, ere it be dinner-time,
Remembering what he did, recall his word:
For by his idle speeches you may swear,
His heart was not confederate with his tongue.

HAR. Tut, never doubt; keep stomachs till anon;
And then we shall have cates to feed upon.

PIS. Well, sir, since things do full so crossly out,
I must dispose myself to patience:
But for your business, do you assure yourself,
At my repairing home from the Exchange,
I'll set a helping hand unto the same.

_Enter_ ALVARO _the Italian_.

ALV. Buon giorno, signor padre: why be de melancholy so much
and grave in you? a-wat news make you look so naught?

PIS. Naught is too good an epithet by much
For to distinguish such contrariousness.
Hath not swift fame told you, our slow-sail'd ships
Have been o'ertaken by the swift-sail'd galleys,
And all my cared-for goods within the lurch
Of that same caterpillar brood of Spain.

ALV. Signor, si; how de Spaniola have almost tack de ship dat
go for Turkey: my padre, hark you me one word: I have receive
one letter from my factor de Venise, dat after one picolo
battalion for one half-hour, de come a wind fra de north, and
de sea go tumble here, and tumble dere, dat make de galleys run
away for fear be almost drowned.

PIS. How, sir?
Did the wind rise at north, and sea wax rough,
And were the galleys therefore glad to fly?

ALV. Signor, si; and de ship go drite on de Isola de Candy.

PIS. Wert thou not my Alvaro, my beloved:
One whom I know does dearly count of me,
Much should I doubt me, that some scoffing Jack
Had sent thee, in the midst of all my griefs,
To tell a feigned tale of happy luck.

ALV. Will you no believe me? See dere den: see de letter.

PIS. What is this world, or what this state of man?
How in a moment curs'd, in a trice bless'd!
But even now my happy state 'gan fade,
And now again my state is happy made.
My goods all safe, my ships all 'scap'd away,
And none to bring me news of such good luck,
But whom the heavens have mark'd to be my son!
Were I a lord as great as Alexander,
None should more willingly be made mine heir,
Than thee, thou golden tongue, thou good-news teller!
Joy stops my mouth-- [_The Exchange bell rings._

BAL. Master Pisaro, the day is late, the bell doth ring:
Wilt please you hasten to perform this business?

PIS. What business, sir? Gods me, I cry you mercy.
Do it? yes, sir, you shall command me more.

TOW. But, sir, what do you mean? do you intend
To pay this bill, or else to palter with me?

PIS. Marry, God shield, that I should palter with you:
I do accept it, and come when you please,
You shall have money; you shall have your money due.

POST. I beseech your worship to consider me.

PIS. O, you cannot cog! go to, take that.
Pray for my life: pray that I have good luck,
And thou shalt see I will not be thy worst master.

POST. Marry, God bless your worship, I came in happy time.
What, a French crown! sure, he knows not what he does. Well,
I'll be gone, lest he remember himself, and take it from me
again.

[_Exit_ POST.

PIS. Come on, my lads! Master Vandal, sweet son Alvaro.
Come, Don Balsaro, let's be jogging home.
By'r laken,[501] sirs, I think 'tis one o'clock.

[_Exeunt_ PISARO, BALSARO, ALVARO, DELION,
_and_ VANDAL.

BROWN. Come, Master Moore, th' Exchange is waxen thin;
I think it best we get us home to dinner.

MOORE. I know that I am look'd for long ere this.
Come, Master Towerson, let's walk along.

[_Exeunt_ MOORE, BROWN, TOWERSON, _Strangers_
_and Merchant_.

HEIGH. And if you be so hot upon your dinner,
Your best way is to haste Pisaro on,
For he is cold enough, and slow enough;
He hath so late digested such cold news.

WAL. Marry, and shall. Hear you, Master Pisaro.

HAR. Many Pisaros here![502] Why, how now, Ned,
Where is your Mat,[503] your welcome, and good cheer?

WAL. Come, let us follow him. Why stay we here?

HEIGH. Nay, prythee, Ned Walgrave, let's bethink ourselves.
There's no such haste: we may come time enough.
At first Pisaro bad us come to him
'Twixt two or three o'clock at afternoon:
Then was he old Pisaro; but since then,
What with his grief for loss and joy for finding,
He quite forgat himself, when he did bid us,
And afterward forgat that he had bad us.

WAL. I care not. I remember it well enough:
He bad us home, and I will go, that's flat,
To teach him better wit another time.

HAR. Here'll be a gallant jest, when we come there,
To see how 'maz'd the greedy chuff will look
Upon the nations, sects, and factions,
That now have borne him company to dinner.
But hark you; let's not go to vex the man.
Prythee, sweet Ned, let's tarry: do not go.

WAL. Not go indeed! you may do what you please:
I'll go, that's flat: nay, I am gone already.
Stay you two, and consider further of it.

HEIGH. Nay, all will go, if one. Prythee, stay.
Thou'rt such a rash and giddy-headed youth,
Each stone's a thorn. Heyday! he skips for haste:
Young Harvey did but jest; I know he'll go.

WAL. Nay, he may choose for me. But if he will,
Why does he not? why stands he prating still?
If you'll go, come; if not, farewell.

HAR. Hire a post-horse for him (gentle Frank),
Here's haste, and more haste than a hasty pudding.
You madman, madcap, wild-oats! we are for you,
It boots not stay, when you intend to go.

WAL. Come away then. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ PISARO, ALVARO, DELION, _and_ VANDAL.

PIS. A thousand welcomes, friends. Monsieur Delion,
Ten thousand bien-venus unto yourself.
Signor Alvaro, Master Vandal,
Proud am I, that my roof contains such friends.
Why Mall, Laurentia, Mat! Where be these girls?

_Enter the three Sisters_.

Lively, my girls; and bid these strangers welcome.
They are my friends, your friends, and our well-willers.
You cannot tell what good you may have on them.
Gods me! why stir you not? Hark in your ear:
These be the men, the choice of many millions,
That I, your careful father, have provided
To be your husbands; therefore bid them welcome.

MATH. Nay, by my troth, 'tis not the guise of maids
To give a slavering salute to men: [_Aside._
If these sweet youths have not the wit to do it,
We have the honesty to let them stand.

VAN. Gods sekerlin, dats unfra meskin, Monsieur Delion, dare de
grote friester, dare wode ic zene, tis un-fra daughter, dare
heb ic so long lovde, dare heb my desire so long gewest.

ALV. Ah! Venice, Roma, Italia, Francia, Angliterra, nor all dis
orb can show so much bellezza, veramente de secunda Madonna de
grand beauty.

DEL. Certes, me dinck de mine depeteta de little Anglois de me
maitresse Pisaro is un nette, un becues, un fra, et un tendra
demosella.

PIS. What stocks, what stones, what senseless trunks be these!
When as I bid you speak, you hold your tongue.
When I bid peace, then can you prate and chat,
And gossip. But go to, speak and bid welcome,
Or (as I live) you were as good you did.

MAR. I cannot tell what language I should speak:
If I speak English (as I can none other)
They cannot understand me nor my welcome.

ALV. Bella madonna, dere is no language so dolce; dolce, dat is
sweet, as de language dat you sal speak, and de velcome dat you
sal say, sal be vel perfectamente.

MAR. Pray, sir, what is all this in English?

ALV. De usa sal vel teash you vat dat is; and if you sal
please, I will teash you to parlar Italiano.

PIS. And that, methinks, sir, not without need:
And with Italian too a child's obedience,
With such desire to seek to please their parents,
As others far more virtuous than themselves
Do daily strive to do. But 'tis no matter:
I'll shortly pull your haughty stomachs down.
I'll teach you urge your father; make you run
When I bid run, and speak when I bid speak.
What greater cross can careful parents have [_Knock within._
Than careless children? Stir, and see who knocks.

_Enter_ HARVEY, WALGRAVE, _and_ HEIGHAM.

WAL. Good morrow to my good Mistress Mathea.

MATH. As good a morrow to the morrow-giver.

PIS. A murrain! what make these? what do they here?

HEIGH. You see, Master Pisaro, we are bold guests.
You could have bid no surer men than we.

PIS. Hark you, gentlemen; I did expect you
At afternoon, not before two o'clock,

HAR. Why, sir, if you please, you shall have us here at two
o'clock, at three o'clock, at four o'clock; nay, till to-morrow
this time; yet I assure you, sir, we came not to your house
without inviting.

PIS. Why, gentlemen, I pray, who bad you now?
Whoever did it, sure, hath done you wrong;
For scarcely could you come to worser cheer.

HEIGH. It was your own self bad us to this cheer,
When you were busy with Balsaro talking.
You bad us cease our suits till dinner-time,
And then to use it for our table-talk:
And we, I warrant you, as sure as steel--

PIS. A murrain on yourselves and sureness too!
How am I cross'd! God's me, what shall I do?
This was that ill news of the Spanish pirates,
That so disturb'd me. Well, I must dissemble,
And bid them welcome; but for my daughters,
I'll send them hence; they shall not stand and prate. [_Aside._
Well, my masters, gentlemen, and friends,
Though unexpected, yet most heartily welcome--
Welcome with a vengeance [_Aside_]--but for your cheer,
That will be small: yet too-too much for you.
[_Aside._
Mall, in and get things ready. Laurentia,
Bid Maudlin lay the cloth, take up the meat.
Look, how she stirs; you sullen elf, you callet!
Is this the haste you make?

[_Exeunt_ MARINA _and_ LAURENTIA.

ALV. Signor Pisaro, nè soit so malcontento: de gentlewoman
your figliola dit parla but a litella to de gentlehomo our
grande amico.

PIS. But that grande amico is your grande inimico:
One, if they be suffered to parlar,
Will poll you, ay, and pill you of your wife.
They love together, and the other two
Love her two sisters: but 'tis only you
Shall crop the flower that they esteem so much.

ALV. Do dey so? Vel let me lone, sal see me give dem de such,
grand mock, sal be shame of demselves.

PIS. Do, sir,
I pray you do: set lustily upon them,
And I'll be ready still to second you.

WAL. But, Mat, art thou so mad as to turn French?

MATH. Yes, marry, when two Sundays come together.
Think you I'll learn to speak this gibberish[504],
Or the pig's language? Why, if I fall sick,
They'll say the French _et coetera_ infected me.

PIS. Why, how now, minion! what, is this your service?
Your other sisters busy are employ'd,
And you stand idle: get you in, or--

WAL. If you chide her, chide me, Master Pisaro;
For but for me she had gone in long since.

PIS. I think she had; for ye[505] are sprites to scare her;
But, ere't be long, I'll drive that humour from her.

ALV. Signor, me thincks you soud no make de wench so hardy, so
disobedient, to de padre as dit madonna Mat.

WAL. Signor, methinks you should learn to speak before you
should be so foolhardy, as to woo such a maiden as that Madonna
Mat.

DEL. Warrant you, monsieur, he sal parle, wen you sal stand out
de door.

HAR. Hark you, monsieur, you would wish yourself half-hanged,
you were as sure to be let in as he.

VAN. Mack no doubt, de Signer Alvaro sal do vel enough.

HEIGH. Perhaps so; but methinks your best way were to ship
yourself for Stoade, and there to barter yourself for a
commodity, for I can tell you, you are here out of liking.

PIS. The worst perhaps dislike him, but the best Esteem him
best.

HAR. But by your patience, sir,
Methinks none should know better who is lord,
Than the lady.

ALV. Den de lady? vat lady?

HAR. Marry, sir, the lady Let-her-alone: one that means
To let you alone for fear of trouble.

PIS. Every man as he may: yet sometimes the blind may catch a
hare.

HEIGH. Ay, sir, but he will first eat many a fly[506]. You know
it must be a wonder if a crab catch a fowl.

VAN. Maer hort ens; if he and ic and Monsieur Delion be de
crab, we sal kash de fowl well genough, I warrant you.

WAL. Ay, and the fowl well enough, I warrant you; and much good
may it do ye.

ALV. Me dinck such a picolo man as you be sal have no de such
grande luck, ma dere.

DEL. Non da monsieur, and he be so granda amorous op de
damosella, hec sal have Maudlin, de wit wench in de kichin, by
Maitre Pisaro's leave.

WAL. By Master Pisaro's leave, monsieur, I'll mumble you,
Except you learn to know whom you speak to:
I tell thee, François, I'll have (maugre thy teeth)
Her that shall make thee gnash thy teeth to want.

PIS. Yet a man may want of his will, and bate an ace of his
wish. But, gentlemen, every man as his luck serves, and so
agree we. I would not have you fall out in my house. Come,
come, all this was in jest: now let's to't in earnest--I mean
with our teeth, and try who's the best trencher-man. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[493] _Alvaro the Italian_ is also mentioned, but he does not enter till some time afterwards.

[494] By _Master Strangers_ he means the "other merchants," as he knows Delion and Vandal.

[495] According to Heywood's, "If you know not me, you know nobody,"