Chapter XXIII: Act III: , Scene I

_Enter_ FRISCO.

FRIS. Ah, sirrah, now I know what manner of thing Paul's is;
I did so mar'l[507] afore what it was, out of all count; for
my master would say, would I had Paul's full of gold; my young
mistress and Grimkin Taylor would wish they had Paul's full of
needles. I once asked my master half a yard of frieze to make
me a coat, and he cried, Whoop holiday! it was big enough to
make Paul's a nightgown. I have been told that Duke Humfrey
dwells here, and that he keeps open house, and that a brave
sort of Cameleers[508] dine with him every day: now if I could
see any vision in the world towards dinner, I would set in a
foot. But the best is, as the ancient English Roman orator
saith, Solame-men, misers, housewives, and so forth[509]. The
best is, that I have great store of company, that do nothing
but go up and down, and go up and down, and make a grumbling
together, that the meat is so long making ready. Well, if I
could meet this scurvy Frenchman, they should stay me, for I
would be gone home.

_Enter_ ANTHONY.

ANTH. I beseech you, monsieur, give me audience.

FRIS. What would you have? What should I give you?

ANTH. Pardon, sir, mine uncivil and presumptuous intrusion,
who endeavour nothing less, than to provoke or exasperate you
against me.

FRIS. They say, a word to the wise is enough, so by this little
French that he speaks, I see he is the very man I seek for.
Sir, I pray, what is your name?

ANTH. I am nominated Monsieur La Mouche, and rest at your bon
service.

FRIS. I understand him partly yea, and partly nay. Can you
speak French? Content pour vous, monsieur, madame.

ANTH. If I could not, sir, I should ill-understand you; you
speak the best French that ever trod upon shoe of leather.

FRIS. Nay, I can speak more languages than that: This is
Italian, is it not--Nelle slurde curtezana?

ANTH. Yes, sir, and you speak it like a very natural.

FRIS. I believe you well. Now for Dutch--Ducky de do, wat heb
ye gebrought?

ANTH. I pray stop your mouth, for I never heard such Dutch
before broached.

FRIS. Nay, I think you have not met with no peasant. Hear you,
Master Mouse (so your name is, I take it), I have considered
of your learning in these aforesaid languages, and find you
reasonable so, so. Now this is the matter: can you take the
ease to teach these tongues to two or three gentlewomen of mine
acquaintance, and I will see you paid for your labour.

ANTH. Yes, sir, and that most willingly.

FRIS. Why then, Master Mouse, to their use I entertain ye,
which had not been but for the troubles of the world, that I
myself have no leisure to show my skill. Well, sir, if you'll
please to walk with me, I'll bring you to them. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ LAURENTIA, MARINA, _and_ MATHEA.

LAU. Sit till dinner's done? not I, I swear:
Shall I stay, till he belch into mine ears
Those rustic phrases and those Dutch--French terms,
Stammering half-sentences, dogbolt eloquence?
And when he hath no love, forsooth, why then
He tells me cloth is dear at Antwerp, and the men
Of Amsterdam have lately made a law,
That none but Dutch, as he, may traffic there.
Then stands he still, and studies what to say;
And after some half-hour, because the ass
Hopes (as he thinks) I shall not contradict him,
He tells me, that my father brought him to me,
And that I must perform my father's will.
Well, good-man goose-cap, when thou woo'st again,
Thou shalt have simple ease for thy love's pain.

MATH. Alas! poor wench, I sorrow for thy hap,
To see how thou art clogg'd with such a dunce.
Forsooth, my sire hath fitted me far better:
My Frenchman comes upon me with the Sa, sa, sa:
Sweet madame, pardonnez moi, I pray:
And then out goes his hand, down goes his head,
Swallows his spittle, frizzles his beard, and then to me:
"Pardonnez moi, mistress Mathea,
If I be bold to mack so bold met you,
Think it go will dat spur me dus up you:
Dan cast neit off so good and true lover,
Madame Celestura de la (I know not what)
Do oft pray to God dat me would love her:"
And then he reckons a catalogue of names,
Of such as love him, and yet cannot get him.

MAR. Nay, but your monsieur's but a mouse in cheese,
Compared with my signor. He can tell
Of lady Venus and her son blind Cupid;
Of the fair Scilla, that was lov'd of Glaucus[510]
And yet scorn'd Glaucus, and yet lov'd King Minos;
Yet Minos hated her, and yet she holp him.
And yet he scorn'd her; yet she kill'd her father
To do him good; yet he could not abide her.
Nay, he'll be bawdy, too, in his discourse,
And when he is so, he will take my hand.
And tickle the palm, wink with his one eye,
Gape with his mouth, and--

LAU. And, hold thy tongue, I prythee: here's my father.

_Enter_ PISARO, ALVARO, VANDAL, DELION, HARVEY.
WALGRAVE, _and_ HEIGHAM.

PIS. Unmannerly, untaught, unnurtur'd girls!
Do I bring gentlemen, my very friends,
To feast with me, to revel at my house,
That their good likings may be set on you,
And you, like misbehav'd and sullen girls,
Turn tail to such as may advance your states I
I shall remember't, when you think I do not.
I am sorry, gentlemen, your cheer's no better;
But what did want at board, excuse me for,
And you shall have amends be made in bed.
To them, friends, to them; they are none but yours:
For you I bred them, for you brought them up,[511]
For you I kept them, and you shall have them:
I hate all others that resort to them.
Then rouse your bloods, be bold with what's your own,
For I and mine (my friends) be yours or none.

_Enter_ FRISCO _and_ ANTHONY.

FRIS. Gi' ye[512] good-morrow, sir. I have brought you monsieur
Mouse here, to teach my young mistresses: I assure you
(forsooth) he is a brave Frenchman.

PIS. Welcome, friend, welcome. My man (I think)
Hath at the full resolv'd thee of my will.
Monsieur Delion, I pray question him:
I tell you, sir, 'tis only for your sake
That I do mean to entertain this fellow.

ANTH. A bots of all ill luck! how came these here?
Now am I pos'd, except the wenches help me:
I have no French to flap them in the mouth.

HAR. To see the luck of a good fellow: poor Anthony
Could ne'er have sorted out a worser time.
Now will the pack of all our sly devices
Be quite laid ope, as one undoes an oyster,
Frank Heigham and mad Ned, fall to your meuses,[513]
To help poor Anthony now at a pinch,
Or all our market will be spoil'd and marr'd.

WAL. Tut, man, let us alone: I warrant you.

DEL. Monsieur, vous estes tres bien-venu: de quelle pais estes
vous?

ANTH. Vous, that's you; sure he says, how do men call you.
Monsieur la Mouche?

MAR. Sister, help, sister! that's honest Anthony,
And he answers your wooer cujus contrarium.

DEL. Monsieur, vous n'entends pas: je nè demande point vostre
nom.

MATH. Monsieur Delion, he that made your shoes, made them not
in fashion; they should have been cut square at the toe.

DEL. Madame, my shoe met de square toe, vat be dat?

PIS. Why, sauce-box! how now, you unreverent minx!
Why, in whose stable hast thou been brought up,
To interrupt a man in midst of speech?
Monsieur Delion, disquiet not yourself,
But as you have begun, I pray proceed
To question with this countryman of yours.

DEL. Dat me sal do tres bien, but de bella madonna, de jeune
gentlewoman, do monstre somesing of amour to speak lot me, et
pour ce, monsieur, mee sal say but two tree four five word to
dis François: or sus, monsieur La Mouche, en quelle partíe de
France etiez vous nè?

HAR. Francis.[514]

HEIGH. Ned.

WAL. What, let me come.
Master Pisaro, we have occasion of affairs,
Which calls us hence with speed; wherefore, I pray,
Defer this business till some fitter time,
And to perform what at the Exchange we spoke of.

ANTH. A blessing on that tongue, saith Anthony.

[_Aside._

PIS. Yes, marry, gentlemen, I will, I will.
Alvaro, to your task: fall to your task!
I'll bear away those three who, being here,
Would set my daughters on a merry pin:
Then cheerly try your lucks. But speak and speed;
For you alone, say I, shall do the deed.

[_Exeunt_ PISARO, HARVEY, WALGRAVE, _and_
HEIGHAM.

FRIS. Hear you, master Mouse, did you dine to-day at Paul's
with the rest of the gentlemen there?

ANTH. No, sir, I am yet undined.

FRIS. Methinks you should have a reasonable good stomach then
by this time: as for me, I can feel[515] nothing within me from
my mouth to my cod-piece, but all empty: wherefore I think it a
piece of wisdom to go in and see what Maudlin hath provided for
our dinner. Master Mouse, will you go in?

ANTH. With as good a stomach and desire as yourself.

FRIS. Let's pass in then.

[_Exeunt_ FRISCO _and_ ANTHONY.

VAN. Han seg you, dochtor, vor vat cause, vor why bed also much
grooterly strange, ic seg you wat, if dat ghy speak to me, is
dat ghy love me?

LAU. Is't that I care not for you? Is't that your breath
stinks? If that your breath stinks not, you must learn sweeter
English, or I shall never understand your suit.

DEL. Pardonnez moi, madame.

MATH. With all my heart, so you offend no more.

DEL. Is dat an offence to be amorous de one belle gentlewoman?

MATH. Ay, sir, see: your belle gentlewoman cannot be amorous of
you.

MAR. Then if I were as that belle gentlewoman's lover, I would
trouble her no further, nor be amorous any longer.

ALV. Madonna, yet de bellezza of de face, beauty, de form of
all de corpo may be such, dat no periculo, nor all de mal
shance, can make him leave her dolce visage.

LAUR. But, signor Alvaro, if the periculo or mal-shance were
such, that she should love and live with another, then the
dolce visage must be left in spite of the lover's teeth, whilst
he may whine at his own ill-fortune.

VAN. Dat's war, maitresse, for it is untrue, saying, dey wint
he taught dey verleift lie scrat sin gat.

MATH. And I think, too, you are like to scratch there, but
never to claw any of my sister's love away.

VAN. Dan sal your sistre do gainst her vader's will, for your
vader segt dat ic sal heb bar vor mine wife.

LAUR. I think not so, sir, for I never heard him say so; but
I'll go in and ask him if his meaning be so.

MAR. Hark, sister; signor Alvaro saith, that I am the fairest
of all us three.

LAUR. Believe him not, for he'll tell any lie,
If so he thinks thou may's be pleas'd thereby.
Come, go with me, and ne'er stand prating here,
I have a jest to tell thee in thine ear
Shall make you laugh. Come, let your signor stand:
I know there's not a wench in all this town
Scoffs at him more, or loves him less than thou.
Master Vandal, as much I say for you;
If needs you marry with an English lass,
Woo her in English, or she'll call you ass.

MATH. Tut, that's a French cog; sure, I think,
There's ne'er a wench in France not half so fond
To woo and sue so for your monsieurship.

DEL. Par ma foi, madame, she does tink dare is no wench so dure
as you: for de fille was créé dolce, tendre, and amorous for
me to love her. Now me tink dat I, being such a fine man, you
should lova me.

MATH. So think not I, sir.

DEL. But so tink esh oder demoisella.

MATH. Nay, I'll lay my love to your command,
That my sisters think not so. How say you, sister Mall?
Why how now, gentlemen, is this your talk?
What, beaten in plain field! Where be your maids?
Nay, then I see their loving humour fades,
And they resign their interest up to me;
And yet I cannot serve for all you three:
But lest two should be mad, that I love one,
You shall be all alike, and I'll love none.
The world is scant, when so many jackdaws
Hover about one corse with greedy paws.
If needs you'll have me, stay till I am dead;
Carrion for crows, Mathea for her Ned;
And so farewell. We sisters do agree
To have our wills, but ne'er to have you three. [_Exeunt._

DEL. Madame, attendez, madame--is she allé?
Do she mocque de vous in such sort?

VAN. O de pestilence! O, if dat io can neit de se Englese sprek
vel, ic sel her fader seg how is to pass gecomen.

_Enter_ PISARO.

ALV. Ne parlate: see here, signors, de father.

PIS. Now, friends, now, gentlemen, how speeds your work?
Have you not found them shrewd, unhappy girls?

VAN. Master Pisaro, de dochter Maistris Laurentia, call de
dyel, den ass, for dat ic can neit English spreken.

ALV. And dat we sal no parlar, dat we sal no havar dem for de
wive.

PIS. Are they so lusty? Dare they be so proud?
Well, I shall find a time to meet with them:[516]
In the mean season, pray, frequent my house.

_Enter_ FRISCO, _running_.

Ho! now, sirrah, whither are you running?

FRIS. About a little tiny business.

PIS. What business, ass?

FRIS. Indeed I was not sent to you, and yet I was sent after
the three gen'men that dined here, to bid them come to our
house at ten o'clock at night, when you were abed.

PIS, Ha! what is this I Can this be true? What, art thou sure
the wenches bad them come?

FRIS. So they said, unless their minds be changed since; for
a woman is like a weathercock, they say, and I am sure of no
more than I am certain of. But I'll go in and bid them send you
word, whether they shall come or no.

PIS. No, sirrah, stay you here. But one word more:
Did they appoint them come one by one, or else
Altogether?

FRIS. Altogether! Lord, that such a young man as you should
have no more wit! Why, if they should come together, one could
not make room for them; but coming one by one, they'll stand
there, if there were twenty of them.

PIS. How this news glads me, and revives my soul!
How say you, sirs? What, will you have a jest
Worth the telling; nay, worth the acting?
I have it, gentlemen--I have it, friends.

ALV. Signer Pisaro, I pray de gratia wat manner sal we have?
wat will the parlar? what bon do you know, Signer Pisaro, diche
di noi, Signer Pisaro?

PIS. O, that youth so sweet
So soon should turn to age! Were I as you,
Why, this were sport alone for me to do.
Hark ye, hark ye. Here my man
Saith that the girls have sent for Master Heigham
And his two friends: I know they love them dear,
And therefore wish them late at night be here,
To revel with them. Will you have a jest,
To work my will and give your longings rest?
Why then Master Vandal and you two
Shall soon at midnight come, as they should do,
And court the wenches; and to be unknown,
And taken for the men whom they alone
So much affect, each one shall change his name:
Master Vandal, you shall take Heigham, and you
Young Harvey, and Monsieur Delion, Ned,
And under shadows be of substance sped.
How like you this device? how think you of it?

DEL. O de brave, de galliard devise: me sal come by de nite and
contrefaire de Anglois gentlehommes--dites-nous ainsi, Monsieur
Pisaro?

PIS. You are in the right, sir.

ALV. And I sal name me de Signer Harvey, and Monsieur Delion
sal be de piccolo Signer Ned, and when Madonna Laurentia sal
say, who be dare? Monsieur Vandal sal say, O my sout lady, hier
be your love Maestro Heigham. Is no dis de bravissime, Master
Vandal?

VAN. Slaet up den tromele, van ick sal come up to de camerken,
wan my new wineken slaet up den tromele, van ick sal come.

PIS. Ha, ha, ha, Master Vandal!
I trow you will be merry soon at night,
When you shall do indeed what now you hope of.

VAN. I sal you seg, vader, ic sal teash your daughter such a
ting make her laugh too.

PIS. Well, my sons all (for so I count you shall)
What we have here devised, provide me for;
But above all, do not (I pray) forget
To come but one by one, as they did wish.

VAN. Mar, hortens vader, ic veit neit de way to your hous,
hortens sal Master Frisco your maniken come to call de me, and
bring me to your house.

PIS. Yes, marry, shall he. See that you be ready,
And at the hour of eleven soon at night,
Hie you to Bucklersbury to his chamber,
And so direct him straight unto my house.
My son Alvaro and Monsieur Delion
I know do know the way exceeding well.
Well, we'll to the Rose in Barking for an hour:
And, sirrah Frisco, see you prove no blab.

[_Exeunt_ PISARO, ALVARO, DELION,
_and_ VANDAL.

SCENE III.

FRIS. O monstrous! who would think my master had so much wit
in his old rotten budget? and yet, i' faith he is not much
troubled with it neither. Why, what wise man in a kingdom would
send me for the Dutchman? Does he think I'll not cozen him?
O fine, I'll have the bravest sport! O brave, I'll have the
gallantest sport! O, come now, if I can hold behind, while I
may laugh a while, I care not. Ha, ha, ha!

_Enter_ ANTHONY.

ANTH. Why, how now, Frisco; why laughest thou so heartily?

FRIS. Laugh, Master Mouse, laugh! Ha, ha, ha!

ANTH. Laugh! why should I laugh? or why art thou so merry?

FRIS. O Master Mouse, Master Mouse! it would make any mouse,
rat, cat, or dog laugh, to think what sport we shall have at
our house soon at night. I'll tell you all: my young mistress
sent me after Master Heigham and his friends to pray them
come to our house, after my old master was abed. Now I went,
and I went; and I run, and I went; and whom should I meet but
my master Pisaro[517] and the strangers; so my master very
worshipfully (I must needs say) examined me whither I went.
Now, I durst not tell him an untruth, for fear of lying; but
told him plainly and honestly mine errand. Now, who would think
my master had such a monstrous plaguy wit? he was as glad as
could be; out of all Scotch-and-notch glad; out of all count
glad: and so, sirrah, he bid the three uplandishmen come in
their steads, and woo my young mistresses. Now it made me so
laugh to think how they would be cozened, that I could not
follow my master. But I'll follow him: I know he has gone to
the tavern in his merry humour. Now, if you will keep this as
secret as I have done hitherto, we shall have the bravest sport
soon, as can be. I must be gone: say nothing. [_Exit._

ANTH. Well, it is so;
And we will have good sport, or it shall go hard:
This must the wenches know, or all is marr'd.

_Enter the three Sisters._

Hark you, Miss Mall, Miss Laurentia, Miss Mat:
I have such news (my girls) will make you smile.

MAR. What be they, master? how I long to hear it!

ANTH. A woman right, still longing and with child
For everything they hear or light upon.
Well, if you be mad wenches, hear it now.
Now may your knaveries give the deadliest blow
To night-walkers, eavesdroppers, or outlandlish love,
That e'er was stricken.

MATH. Anthony La Mouche,
Move but the matter--tell us but the jest;
And if you find us slack to execute,
Never give credence, or believe us more.

ANTH. Then know, the strangers, your outlandish loves,
Appointed by your father, come this night
Instead of Harvey, Heigham, and young Ned,
Under their shadows to get to your bed;
For Frisco simply told him why he went.
I need not to instruct--you can conceive--
You are not stocks nor stones, but have some store
Of wit and knavery too.

MATH. Anthony, thanks
Is too-too small a guerdon for this news.
You must be English! Well, Sir Signer Sowse,[518]
I'll teach you tricks for coming to our house.

LAUR. Are you so crafty? O, that night were come!
That I might hear my Dutchman, how he'd swear
In his own mother-language that he loves me.
Well, if I quit him not, I here pray God
I may lead apes in hell, and die a maid,[519]
And that were worser to me than a hanging.

ANTH. Well said, old honest huddles. Here's a heap
Of merry lasses! Well, for myself,
I'll hie me to your lovers, bid them mask
With us at night, and in some corner stay
Near to our house, where they may make some play
Upon your rivals; and when they are gone,
Come to your windows.

MAR. Do so, good master.

ANTH. Peace! begone.
For this our sport somebody soon will mourn.

[_Exeunt Sisters. Manet_ ANTHONY.[520]

_Enter_ PISARO.

PIS. How favourable heaven and earth is seen
To grace the mirthful complot that is laid!
Night's candles burn obscure, and the pale moon,
Favouring our drift, lies buried in a cloud.
I can but smile to see the simple girls,
Hoping to have their sweethearts here to-night,
Tickled with extreme joy, laugh in my face;
But when they find the strangers in their steads,
They'll change their note, and sing another song.
Where be these girls here? what! to bed, to bed!
Maudlin, make fast the doors, rake up the fire.

_Enter the three Sisters._[521]

God's me! 'tis nine o'clock! hark, Bow-bell rings.
Some look down below, and see who knocks. [_Knocking._
And hark you, girls, settle your hearts at rest,
And full resolve you, that to-morrow morn
You must be wed to such as I prefer;
I mean Alvaro and his other friends.
Let me no more be troubled with your nays:
You shall do what I'll have, and so resolve.

_Enter_ MOORE.

Welcome, Master Moore, welcome.
What wind, a God's name, drives you forth so late?

MOORE. Faith, sir, I am come to trouble you:
My wife this present night is brought to bed.

PIS. To bed? and what hath God sent you?

MOORE. A jolly girl, sir.

PIS. And God bless her. But what's your will, sir?

MOORE. Faith, sir, my house being full of friends,
Such as (I thank them) came to see my wife,
I would request you, that for this one night
My daughter Susan might be lodged here.

PIS. Lodge in my house? welcome, with all my heart.
Mat, hark you, she shall lie with you:
Trust me, she could not come in fitter time.
For (hear you, sir) to-morrow in the morning
All my three daughters must be married.
Good Master Moore, let's have your company;
What say you, sir?

_Enter a Servant._

Welcome, honest friend.

MOORE. How now, sirrah, what's the news with you?

PIS. Mouche, hear you: stir betimes to-morrow,
For then I mean your scholars shall be wed.
What news, what news, man, that you look so sad?

MOORE. He brings me word my wife is new fall'n sick,
And that my daughter cannot come to-night;
Or if she does, it will be very late.

PIS. Believe me, I am then more sorry for it.
But for your daughter, come she soon or late,
Some of us will be up to let her in,
For here be three mean not to sleep to-night.
Well, you must be gone: commend me to your wife.
Take heed how you go down: the stairs are bad.
Bring here a light.

MOORE. 'Tis well, I thank you, sir. [_Exit._

PIS. Good night, Master Moore: farewell, honest friend.
Come, come--to bed, to bed: 'tis nine and past.
Do not stand prating here to make me fetch you,
But get you to your chambers. [_Exit_ PISARO.

ANTH. By'r Lady, here's short work! hark you, girls,
Will you to-morrow marry with the strangers?

MAR. I'faith, sir, no. I'll first leap out at window,
Before Marina marry with a stranger.

ANTH. Yes, but your father swears you shall have one.

MATH. Yes, but his daughters swear they shall have none.
These whoreson cannibals, these Philistines,
These tango-mongoes shall not rule o'er me.
I'll have my will and Ned, or I'll have none.

ANTH. How will you get him? how will you get him?
I know no other way except it be this,
That when your father's in his soundest sleep,
You ope the door, and run away with them.

ALL SISTERS. So we will, rather than miss of them.

ANTH. 'Tis well-resolved, i' faith, and like yourselves.
But hear you! to your chambers presently,
Lest that your father do descry our drift.
[_Exeunt_ SISTERS.
Mistress Susan should come, but she cannot;
Nor perhaps shall not, yet perhaps she shall.
Might not a man conceit a pretty jest,
And make as mad a riddle as this is?
If all things fadge now,[522] as all things should do,
We shall be sped; faith, Mat shall have her due.

FOOTNOTES:

[507] _i.e._, Marvel.

[508] Meaning Cavaliers.

[509] _Solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris._

[510] This story had become familiar in consequence of T. Lodge's "Scilla's Metamorphosis," printed in 1589.

[511] The copies of 1626 and 1631 read this line--_for you I tired them, for you I brought them up;_ but the pronoun _I_ is redundant both for sense and measure.

[512] [Old copies, _God-ye_.]

[513] [Inventions.]

[514] [Old copies, _Fraunce_.]

[515] All the copies read _sell_ for _feel_; but it was an easy misprint.

[516] To be even with them.

[517] The old copies read, _Whom should I meet but my master and M. Pisaro_.

[518] She addresses herself to her absent outlandish love, who is to pretend to be English.

[519] This proverb occurs twice in Shakespeare, in "Much Ado about Nothing," and in "The Taming of the Shrew," and Malone and Steevens laboured in vain to discover its applicability. It is also to be met with in H. Chettle's "Patient Grissel," 1603, where Farnese observes to Julia, "Then I perceive you mean to _lead apes in hell_," and she replies, "That spiteful proverb was proclaimed against them that are married upon earth, for to be married is to live in a kind of hell.... Your wife is your ape, and that heavy burden wedlock, your jack-an-ape's clog: therefore I'll not be tied to't." This does not throw any new light upon the matter, nor explain why old maids are destined in the infernal regions to this duty. If old bachelors were supposed to be transformed there into apes, it would be very intelligible.

[520] The stage direction in the old copy is only _Exeunt_; but Anthony remains.

[521] The re-entrance of the Sisters is not marked in the oldest edition.

[522] [Old copies, _not_.]