Chapter XII: Act IV: , Scene 1

_Enter_ WIDOW _undressed, a sword in her hand; and_ BOLD _in his shirt, as started from bed_.

WID. Uncivil man! if I should take thy life,
It were not to be weigh'd with thy attempt.
Thou hast for ever lost me.

BOLD. Madam, why?
Can love beget loss? Do I covet you
Unlawfully? Am I an unfit man
To make a husband of? Send for a priest;
First consummate the match, and then to bed
Without more trouble.

WID. No, I will not do't.

BOLD. Why, you confess'd to me (as your gentlewoman)[113]
I was the man your heart did most affect;
That you did doat upon my mind and body.

WID. So, by the sacred and inviolate knot
Of marriage, I do; but will not wed thee.

BOLD. Why, yet enjoy me now. Consider, lady,
That little but bless'd time I was in bed,
Although I lay as by my sister's side,
The world is apt to censure otherwise:
So, 'tis necessity that we marry now.

WID. Pish! I regard not at a straw the world.
Fame from the tongues of men doth injury
Oft'ner than justice; and as conscience
Only makes guilty persons, not report,
(For show we clear as springs unto the world,
If our own knowledge do not make us so,
That is no satisfaction to ourselves),
So stand we ne'er so leprous to men's eye,
It cannot hurt heart-known integrity.
You have trusted to that fond opinion,
This is the way to have a widowhood,
By getting to her bed.[114] Alas! young man,
Shouldst thou thyself tell thy companions
Thou hast dishonour'd me (as you men have tongues
Forked and venom'd 'gainst our subject sex);
It should not move me, that know 'tis not so:
Therefore depart. Truth be my virtuous shield.

BOLD. Few widows would do thus.

WID. All modest would.

BOLD. To be in bed, and in possession
Even of the mark I aim'd at, and go off
Foil'd and disgrac'd! Come, come, you'll laugh at me
Behind my back; publish I wanted spirit,
And mock me to the ladies; call me child,
Say you denied me but to try the heat
And zeal of my affection toward you,
Then clapp'd up with a rhyme; as for example--

_He coldly loves retires for one vain trial,
For we are yielding when we make denial._

WID. Servant, I make no question, from this time
You'll hold a more reverent opinion
Of some that wear long coats; and 'tis my pride
To assure you that there are amongst us good,
And with this continency. If you go away,
I'll be so far from thinking it defect,
That I will hold you worthiest of men.

BOLD. 'Sheart! I am Tantalus: my long'd-for fruit
Bobs at my lips, yet still it shrinks from me.
Have not I that, which men say never fails
To o'ercome any, opportunity?[115]
Come, come; I am too cold in my assault.
By all the virtues that yet ever were
In man or woman, I with reverence
Do love thee, lady, but will be no fool
To let occasion slip her foretop from me.

WID. You will fail this way too. Upon my knees
I do desire thee to preserve thy virtues,
And with my tears my honour: 'tis as bad
To lose our worths to them, or to deceive
Who have held worthy opinions of us,
As to betray trust. All this I implore
For thine own sake, not mine: as for myself,
If thou be'st violent, by this stupid night
And all the mischiefs her dark womb hath bred,
I'll raise the house; I'll cry a rape.

BOLD. I hope
You will not hang me: that were murder, lady,
A greater sin than lying with me, sure.

WID. Come, flatter not yourself with argument.
I will exclaim: the law hangs you, not I;
Or if I did, I had rather far confound
The dearest body in the world to me,
Than that that body should confound my soul.

BOLD. Your soul? alas! mistress, are you so fond
To think her general destruction
Can be procur'd by such a natural act,
Which beasts are born to, and have privilege in?
Fie, fie! if this could be, far happier
Are insensitive[116] souls in their creation
Than man, the prince of creatures. Think you, heaven
Regards such mortal deeds, or punisheth
Those acts for which he hath ordained us?

WID. You argue like an atheist: man is never
The prince of creatures, as you call him now,
But in his reason; fail that, he is worse
Than horse, or dog, or beast of wilderness;
And 'tis that reason teacheth us to do
Our actions unlike them: then, that which you
Termed in them a privilege beyond us,
The baseness of their being doth express,
Compar'd to ours: horses, bulls and swine
Do leap their dams; because man does not so,
Shall we conclude his making[117] happiless?

BOLD. You put me down--yet will not put me down.
I am too gentle: some of you, I have heard,
Love not these words, but force; to have it done,
As they sing prick-song, ev'n at the first sight.

WID. Go to: keep off; by heaven and earth, I'll call else!

BOLD. How, if nobody hear you?

WID. If they do not,
I'll kill you with mine own hand; never stare:
Or failing that, fall on this sword myself.

BOLD. O widow wonderful! if thou be'st not honest,
Now God forgive my mother and my sisters.
Think but how finely, madam, undiscover'd
For ever I[118] might live: all day your gentlewoman
To do you service, but all night your man
To do you service: newness of the trick,
If nothing else, might stir ye.

WID. 'Tis a stale one,
And was done in the Fleet ten years ago.
Will you begone? the door is open for you.

BOLD. Let me but tarry till the morning, madam,
To send for clothes. Shall I go naked home?

WID. 'Tis best time now; it is but one o'clock,
And you may go unseen: I swear, by heaven,
I would spend all the night to sit and talk w' ye,
If I durst trust you: I do love you so.
My blood forsakes my heart now you depart.

BOLD. 'Sheart! will you marry me hereafter, then?

WID. No, you are too young, and I am much too old;
Ay, and unworthy, and the world will say,
We married not for love. Good morrow, servant. [_Exit_ WIDOW.

BOLD. Why so: these women are the errantest jugglers in the world: the wry-legged fellow is an ass to 'em. Well, I must have this widow, what-e'er come on't. Faith, she has turned me out of her service very barely. Hark, what's here? music?

_Enter_ SUBTLE _with a paper, and his_ BOY _with a cloak_.

SUB. [_Reads._] "Rise, lady mistress, rise,
The night hath tedious been;
No sleep hath fallen into my eyes,
Nor slumbers made me sin.
Is not she a saint, then say,
Thought of whom keeps sin away?

"Rise, madam, rise and give me light,
Whom darkness still will cover,
And ignorance, darker than night,
Till thou smile on thy lover.
All want day, till thy beauty rise,
For the grey morn breaks from thine eyes!"[119]
Now sing it, sirrah. [_The song sung by the_ BOY.

SUB. 'Sfoot, who's this? young Master Bold! God save you; you are an
early stirrer.

BOLD. You say true, Master Subtle, I have been early up,
But, as God help me, I was never the near.[120]

SUB. Where have you been, sir?

BOLD. What's that to you, sir? at a woman's labour?

SUB. Very good: I ne'er took you for a man-midwife[121] before.

BOLD. The truth is, I have been up all night at dice, and lost my clothes. Good morrow, Master Subtle. Pray God the watch be broke up: I thank you for my music.

[_Exit._

SUB. 'Tis palpable, by this air: her husband being abroad, Bold has lain with her, and is now conveyed out of doors. Is this the Lady Perfect, with a pox? The truth is, her virtuous chastity began to make me make a miracle of her still holding out to me, notwithstanding her husband's most barbarous usage of her; but now, indeed, 'tis no marvel, since another possesses her.

Well, madam, I will go find out your cuckold;
I'll be reveng'd on you, and tell a tale
Shall tickle him. This is a cheat in love
Not to be borne: another to beguile
Me of the game I play'd for all this while. [_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ WELLTRIED, _and_ BOLD _putting on his doublet;_ FEESIMPLE _asleep on a bed, as in_ BOLD'S _chamber_.

WELL. You see, we made bold with your lodging: indeed, I did assure myself you were fast for this night.

BOLD. But how the devil came this fool in your company?

WELL. 'Sfoot, man, I carried him last night among the roarers to flesh him; and, by this light, he got drunk, and beat 'em all.

BOLD. Why, then he can endure the sight of a drawn sword now?

WELL. O God, sir, I think in my conscience he will eat steel shortly. I know not how his conversion will hold after this sleep; but, in an hour or two last night, he was grown such a little damn-me, that I protest I was afraid of the spirit that I myself had raised in him. But this other matter--of your expulsion thus, mads me to the heart. Were you in bed with her?

BOLD. In bed, by heaven.

WELL. I'll be hanged, if you were not busy too soon: you should have let her slept first.

BOLD. Zounds! man, she put her hand to my breasts, and swore I was no maid: now I, being eager to prove her words true, took that hint, and would violently have thrust her hand lower, when her thought, being swifter than my strength, made her no sooner imagine that she was betrayed, but she leaps out of the bed, whips me down a sword that hung by, and, as if fortitude and justice had met to assist her, spite of all argument, fair or foul, she forced me away.

WELL. But is it possible thou shouldst have no more wit? wouldst thou come away upon any terms but sure ones, having night, her chamber, and herself naked in thine arms? By that light, if I had a son of fourteen, whom I had helped thus far, that had served me so, I would breech him.[122]

BOLD. 'Sheart! what would you have me done?

WELL. Have done? done? done twice at least.

BOLD. Have played Tarquin, and ravished her?

WELL. Pish! Tarquin was a blockhead: if he had had any wit and could have spoke, Lucrece had never been ravished; she would have yielded, I warrant thee, and so will any woman.

BOLD. I was such an erroneous heretic to love and women as thou art, till now.

WELL. God's precious! it makes me mad when I think on't. Was there ever such an absurd trick! now will she abuse thee horribly, say thou art a faint-hearted fellow, a milksop, and I know not what, as indeed thou art.

BOLD. Zounds! would you had been in my place.

WELL. Zounds! I would I had, I would have so jumbled her honesty. Wouldst thou be held out at stave's end with words? dost thou not know a widow's a weak vessel, and is easily cast, if you close.

BOLD. Welltried, you deal unfriendly.

WELL. By this light, I shall blush to be seen in thy company.

BOLD. Pray, leave my chamber.

WELL. Pox upon your chamber!
I care not for your chamber nor yourself,
More than you care for me.

BOTS. 'Sblood! I as little for you.

WELL. Why, fare you well.

BOTS. Why, fare well. Yet, Welltried,[123] I prythee, stay:
Thou know'st I love thee.

WELL. 'Sheart! I love you as well;
But for my spleen or choler, I think I have
As much as you.

BOTS. Well, friend,
This is the business you must do for me.
Repair unto the widow, where give out,
To-morrow morn I shall be married:
Invite her to the wedding. I have a trick
To put upon this lord, too, whom I made
My instrument to prefer me.

WELL. What shall follow
I will not ask, because I mean[124] to see't.
The jars 'twixt friends still keeps their friendship sweet.
[_Exit._

FEE. [_waking_.] Why, Welltried, you rogue! what's that? a vision?

BOLD. Why, how now, my lord? whom do you call rogue? The gentleman you name is my friend. If you were wise, I should be angry.

FEE. Angry with me? why, damn me, sir, and you be, out with your sword. It is not with me, I tell you, as it was yesterday; I am fleshed, man, I. Have you anything to say to me?

BOLD. Nothing but this: how many do you think you have slain last night?

FEE. Why, five; I never kill less.

BOLD. There were but four. My lord, you had best provide yourself and begone; three you have slain stark dead.

FEE. You jest!

BOLD. It is most true. Welltried is fled.

FEE. Why, let the roarers meddle with me another time: as for flying, I scorn it; I killed 'em like a man. When did you ever see a lord hang for anything? We may kill whom we list. Marry, my conscience pricks me. Ah! plague a' this drink! what things it makes us do! I do no more remember this now than a puppy-dog.

O bloody lord, that art bedaub'd with gore!

Vain world, adieu, for I will roar no more.

BOLD. Nay, stay, my lord: I did but try the tenderness of your conscience. All this is nothing so; but, to sweeten the tale I have for you, I foretold you this feigned mischance.

FEE. It is a tale belonging to the widow.

BOLD. I think you are a witch.

FEE. My grandmother was suspected.

BOLD. The widow has desired you by me to meet her to-morrow morning at church in some unknown disguise, lest any suspect it; for, quoth she,

Long hath he held me fast in his moist hand,
Therefore I will be his in nuptial band.

FEE. Bold, I have ever taken you to be my friend. I am very wise now and valiant; if this be not true, damn me, sir, you are the son of a whore, and you lie, and I will make it good with my sword.

BOLD. I am whate'er you please, sir, if it be not true. I will go with you to the church myself. Your disguise I have thought on. The widow is your own. Come, leave your fooling.

FEE. _If this be true, thou little boy Bold,_ [_Cantat._
_So true, as thou tell'st to me,_
_To-morrow morn, when I have the widow,_
_My dear friend shall thou be_.[125] [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_Enter_ MAID, _like the footboy;_ SELDOM _with_ PITTS _and_ DONNER, _a couple of serjeants_.

MAID. Sir, 'tis most true, and in this shall you be
Unlike to other citizens, that arrest
To undo gentlemen: your clemency here,
Perchance, saves two lives: one from the other's sword,
The other from the law's. This morn they fight,
And though your debtor be a lord, yet should he
Miscarry, certainly your debt were lost.

SEL. Dost thou serve the Lord Proudly?

MAID. Sir, I do.

SEL. Well, such a boy as thou is worth more money
Than thy lord owes me. 'Tis not for the debt
I do arrest him, but to end this strife,
Which both may lose my money and his life.

_Enter_ LORD PROUDLY, _with a riding-rod_.

PROUDLY. My horse there! Zounds! I would not for the world
He should alight before me in the field;
My name and honour were for ever lost.

SEL. Good morrow to your honour. I do hear
Your lordship this fair morning is to fight,
And for your honour: did you never see
The play where the fat knight, hight Oldcastle,
Did tell you truly what his honour was?[126]

PROUDLY. Why, how now, good man flatcap,
"what-d'ye-lack?"[127]
Whom do you talk to, sirrah?

1ST SER. We arrest you.

PROUDLY. Arrest me, rogue? I am a lord, ye curs,
A parliament man.

2D SER. Sir, we arrest you, though.

PROUDLY. At whose suit?

SEL. At mine, sir.

PROUDLY. Why, thou base rogue! did not I set thee up,
Having no stock but thy shop and fair wife?[128]

SEL. Into my house with him!

MAID. Away with him! away with him!

PROUDLY. A plot, a trick, by heaven! See, Ingen's footboy:
'Tis by his master's means. O coward slave!
I'll put in bail, or pay the debt.

SEL. Ay, ay, ay; we'll talk with you within--thrust him in.
[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ INGEN _looking on his sword, and bending it; his brother like a man_.[129]

INGEN. If I miscarry, Frank, I prythee see
All my debts paid: about five hundred pounds
Will fully satisfy all men;[130] and my land,
And what I else possess, by Nature's right
And thy descent, Frank, I make freely thine.

BRO. I know you do not think I wish you dead
For all the benefit: besides, your spirit's
So opposite to counsel to avert
Your resolution, that I save my breath,
Which would be lost in vain, to expire and spend
Upon your foe, if you fall under him.

INGEN. Frank, I protest, you shall do injury
Upon my foe, and much disturbance too
Unto my soul departing, die I here
Fairly, and on my single enemy's sword,
If you should not let him go off untouch'd.
Now, by the master of thy life and mine,
I love thee, boy, beyond any example,
As well as thou dost me; but should I go
Thy second to the field, as thou dost mine,
And if thine enemy kill'd thee like a man,
I would desire never to see him more,
But he should bear himself off with those wounds
He had receiv'd from thee, from that time safe
And without persecution by the law;
For what hap is our foe's might be our own,
And no man's judgment sits in justice' place,
But weighing other men's as his own case.

BRO. He has the advantage of you, being a lord;
For should you kill him, you are sure to die,
And by some lawyer with a golden tongue,
That cries for right (ten angels on his side),
Your daring meet him call'd presumption:
But kill he you, he and his noble friends
Have such a golden snaffle for the jaws
Of man-devouring Pythagorean law,
They'll rein her stubborn chaps ev'n to her tail:
And (though she have iron teeth to meaner men),
So master her, that, who displeas'd her most,
She shall lie under like a tired jade;
For small boats on rough seas are quickly lost,
But ships ride safe, and cut the waves that tost.

INGEN. Follow what may, I am resolv'd, dear brother.
This monster valour, that doth feed on men,
Groans in me for my reputation.
This charge I give thee, too--if I do die,
Never to part from the young boy which late
I entertain'd, but love him for my sake.
And for my mistress, the Lady Honour,
Whom to deceive I have deceiv'd myself,
If she be dead, pray God I may give up
My life a sacrifice on her brother's sword;
But if thou liv'st to see her, gentle brother:
If I be slain, tell her I died, because
I had transgressed against her worthy love--
This sword is not well-mounted; let's see thine.

_Enter_ MAID, _like a footboy_.

MAID. Your staying, sir, is in vain, for my Lord Proudly,
Just at his taking horse to meet you here,
At Seldom's suit (the citizen) was arrested
Upon an action of two hundred pounds.
I saw it, sir; 'tis true.

INGEN. O scurvy lord!
It had been a cleanlier shift than this to have had
It hinder'd by command, he being a lord.
But I will find him.

_Enter_ LORD PROUDLY.

PROUDLY. You see, valiant sir, I have got loose
For all your stratagem. O rogue! are you there?
[PROUDLY _stabs his sister_.

INGEN. Most ignoble lord!
[INGEN _stabs_ PROUDLY _in the left arm_.

PROUDLY. Coward! thou didst this,
That I might be disabled for the fight,
Or that thou mightst have some excuse to shun me,
But 'tis my left arm thou hast lighted on.
I have no second: here are three of you.
If all do murder me, your consciences
Will more than hang you, damn you. Come, prepare!

INGEN. Brother, walk off, and take the boy away.
Is he hurt much?

BRO. Nothing, or very little. [PROUDLY _thrusts the boy out_.

INGEN. I'll bind your wound up first: your loss of blood
May sooner make you faint.

PROUDLY. Ingen, thou art
A worthy gentleman: for this courtesy,
Go to, I'll save thy life. Come on, sir! [_A pass or two._
I'll cut your codpiece point, sir, with this thrust,
And then down go your breeches.

INGEN. Your lordship's merry. [_Pass._
I had like to have spoil'd your cutwork band.

_Enter_ MAID, _like a footboy, running;_ BROTHER _after her;_ MAID _kneels betwixt them_.

MAID. O master, hold your hand! my lord, hold yours,
Or let your swords meet in this wretched breast!
Yet you are both well; what blood you have lost,
Give it as for the injury you did,
And now be friends.

PROUDLY. 'Sheart! 'tis a loving rogue.

INGEN. Kind boy, stand up: 'tis for thy wound he bleeds;
My wrong is yet unsatisfied.

PROUDLY. Hence! away! It is a sister's loss that whets my sword.

MAID. O, stay, my lord! behold your sister here.
[_Discovers herself._
Bleeding by your hand: servant, see your mistress
Turn'd to thy servant, running by thy horse;
Whose meaning 'twas[131] to have prevented this,
But all in vain.

BRO. O noble lady!

INGEN. Most worthy pattern of all womenkind!

PROUDLY. Ingen, I am satisfied; put up your sword.
Sister, you must with me: I have a husband,
The Lord Feesimple's father, old, but rich.
This gentleman is no match for you: kneel not.
That portion of yours I have consum'd!
Thus marrying, you shall never come to want.

MAID. O sweet my lord, my brother! do not force me
To break my faith, or to a loathed bed.

INGEN. Force you he shall not: brother, bear her hence.
She is my wife, and thou shalt find my cause
Ten times improv'd now.

PROUDLY. O, have at you, sir. [_Pass._

MAID. Hold, hold, for heaven's sake! was e'er wretched lady
Put to this hazard? Sir, let me speak
But one word with him, and I'll go with you,
And undergo whatever you command.

PROUDLY. Do't quickly, for I love no whispering,
'Tis strange to see you, madam, with a sword!
You should have come hither in your lady's clothes.

MAID. Well, as you please, my lord: you are witness,
Whatsoe'er before
Hath pass'd betwixt us, thus I do undo.
Were not I mad to think thou couldst love me,
That wouldst have slain my brother.

PROUDLY. Say'st true, sister?

INGEN. O, thou fair creature! wilt thou be as false
As other ladies?

MAID. Thou art my example.
I'll kiss thee once: farewell for ever. Come, my lord, now
Match me, with whom you please--a tumbler.
I must do this, else had they fought again.

PROUDLY. Mine own best sister! Farewell, Master Ingen.
[_Exeunt_ PROUDLY _and_ MAID.

BRO. O ancient truth! to be denied of no man:
An eel by the tail's held surer than a woman. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[113] The second edit. reads, _as your a gentlewoman_, but Bold means
that the Widow confessed to him when he was disguised as her
gentlewoman. The first edit. warrants this interpretation.

[114] [He refers to the common proverb. See Hazlitt, p. 191-2; and
Dodsley, x. 306.]

[115] "O opportunity, thy guilt is great," &c.

--Shakespeare's "Lucrece," [Dyce's edit, 1868, viii. 312.]

[116] [Old copy, _sensitive_.]

[117] [Mating.]

[118] [Old copy, _you and I_.]

[119] The concluding thought of this pretty song has been in request
by many poets of all countries: Eustachio Manfredi has carried it to
an extreme that would seem merely absurd, but for the grace of the
expression of his sonnet, _Il primo albor non appariva ancora_.
Appended to "The Fatal Dowry" is "a dialogue between a man and a
woman" which commences with it, and which we may therefore assign to
Field.

[120] [An allusion to the proverb.]

[121] _Man_ omitted in the second edit.

[122] Flog him.

[123] [Edits., _you_. _Welltried_.]

[124] [Edits., _meant_.]

[125] [These lines appear to be taken from some song of "Little Boy
Blue."]

[126] This passage has been adduced by Dr Farmer to show that Falstaff
was originally called by Shakespeare _Oldcastle_, according to the
tradition mentioned by Rowe, and supported by Fuller in his
"Worthies," and by other authorities. The point is argued at great
length in Malone's Shakespeare by Boswell, xvi. 410, _et seq._, and
the decisions of the learned have been various; but the balance of
evidence is undoubtedly in favour of the opinion that Shakespeare made
the change, perhaps to avoid the confusion of his very original
character with the mere fat buffoon of the old play of "Henry V.," a
point not adverted to in the discussion. Field's testimony seems
tolerably decisive.

[127] Citizens and apprentices were called in derision _flatcaps_ and
_what-d'ye-lacks_ in reference to their dress and occupation.

[128] [Edits., _fair shop and wife_.]

[129] [_i.e._, a servant.]

[130] _Will satisfy all men_, in the second edition.

[131] [Edits., _means it_.]