Chapter XXIII: Act V: , Scene 1

_Enter_ DUKE, _trumpets and drums sounding, colours
victoriously displayed. Field-Officers with Soldiers
martially ordered in rank and file_.

HER. What a majesty Without all servile affectation His personating presence, cloth'd with state And princely posture, seems to represent!

ALL. Conquest and affability contend Which to his count'nance may pretend most right. His spirit's too evenly poised to be transported With the success of fortune. Let us hear him.

DUKE. Safely arriv'd, thanks to the pow'rs above, Here are we come: our enemies subdu'd, Our wrongs redress'd, our merchants satisfi'd: No foreign force t' oppose us. Thus has time Crown'd our addresses with triumphant palms, And by just war begot a thankful peace.

ALL. Long live Eugenio, Seville's governor!

DUKE. Our constant care shall gratify your love. Meantime, let these brave soldiers sharers be In our success: whom you and we're to hold Such joint assistants in our victories, As their redoubted prowess merits fame, And competent rewards to recompense Their noble service: for (believe it, friends) Never were hazards better seconded, Nor by their valour to a period Sooner reduced; so prosperous was our fight In dark'ning those who took away our light. And having now compos'd these broils abroad, We're to look homeward, and redress those wrongs Which nestle in the bosom of our state: So much more dang'rous, because connivance Has wrought them into habits. These, we fear, Pretend a privilege, because the face Of greatness gives them count'nance. But our laws Must be no spider-webs, to take small flies, And let the great ones 'scape. We have resolv'd "Greatness shall be no subterfuge to guilt." This must we act with speed, and closely too; For secrecy, wing'd with celerity, Be the two wheels which manage moral states And martial actions. After short repose, These we'll chastise; and by a due survey, As just complaints shall be exhibited, Measure our censure to the peccants' crime. Nor must we spin our time: we have design'd Our very next day for aggrievances Of court and city, where our absence might Admit, perchance, more freedom to offend. "The only way to salve a deep disease Is to give what may cure, not what may please. Wherein delays prove worst: artists apply Receipts, before distempers grow too high."

[_Exit, tubis et tympanis sonantibus; conspicuo aulicorum et
stratiotum coetu comitante._

ALL. Under such guardians may we live and die.

[_Exeunt plebeii._

SCENE II.

_Enter a Regiment of_ TREPANNERS _and_ TARPAULINS, _with drum
and colours, gallantly marching in their victorious
return and prosperous success from Tunis_.

1ST OFF. Sa-sa.

2D OFF. Ran-tan.

3D OFF. Tara-tantara. Thus far from the Isle of Canary. Is not this better, my boys, than trepanning an old drolling friar for a sequestered bond?--Hey boys, here be those Indian rats that cant and chirp in my pocket, as if after a long apprenticeship they sought to be made freemen.

[_He shakes his pocket._

But I must not yet enlarge them.

2D OFF. O ye pitiful simpletons, who spend your days in throwing cudgels at Jack-a-Lents or Shrove-cocks!

3D OFF. Nay, in making gooselings in embers: and starting as if they were planet-struck at the weak report of a pot-gun.

1ST OFF. My wish shall be for all that puisne pen-feathered aërie of buzzardism[173] and stanielry:[174] "_That such as they who love to stay to suck their mamma's teat, May live at home, but ne'er find one to give them clothes or meat._"

LANCEPRES. Come along, wags; let's in a frolic way march to our old friends in new suits, and reserve a screwed look for a threepenny ordinary.

2D OFF. Along, along! but utter not too much language, honest pockets, till a question be asked you.

[_He shakes his pocket._

ALL. Hey for a fee-farm rent in Tunis!

[_Exeunt capering._

SCENE III.

_Enter two_ COUNTRY BOORS.

HUS. Content thee, content thee, Christabel.

WIFE. Yes, surely, that's a trim word; but when, trow you, had I it? As I am an honest woman, I have been this goodman Fumbler's wife so many years, and he never yet gave me content. 'Tis such a dry pilchard, he deserves nothing more than basting.

HUS. Fie, Christabel! fie, for shame! hold thy trattles; is it my fault if thou be barren?

WIFE. Barren, you cods-head! Lies the fault there, you island cur! Nay, all the parish will witness for me that I was not barren before I met with you. Barren, stitchel![175] that shall not serve thy turn. In plain terms, Jocelin, since thou cannot content me one way, thou shalt another.

HUS. What would my duck have?

WIFE. What, my drake, the law will give me.

HUS. Law!

WIFE. Yes, you wizard.[176] I have already fed a glib-tongued parrot, with a coif on his head, that will trounce you.

HUS. What have I done, my malmsey?

WIFE. Nay, your doing nothing, you dumpling, has brought you into this pickle. The short and the long on't is this, I will have ale-money.[177]

HUS. Ale-money! what means my chicken by that?

WIFE. I have been neither so long nor ill taught by my betters, but I know the meaning of ale-money well enough. My land'slady Joculette, God bless her! is matched to as handsome a frolic youngster as one can see on a summer's day; yet she dislikes him, and has recovered a good stock of ale-money. I love to follow the example of my betters. Set your heart at rest, Jocelin; I must and will have ale-money.

HUS. Thou shalt have anything, my coney Christabel, so thou wilt rest contented.

WIFE. Nay, husband, you know well that I am forced many nights to go to rest weakly contented. But, if I chance to trudge to court, I mean to lie all open; you shall hear. I intend not to lay leaves on my wounds. The duke, I hear, is a merciful man, and will not suffer any of his poor subjects to fall short of their due.

HUS. Well, girl, thou shalt find me ready to appear before his grace at any time.

WIFE. You'll have a gracious bargain on't then, doubtless. Trust me, Jocelin, you will distemper all our ladies at court, if you push at the gate with your ram-horns.

HUS. She's possessed, sure.

WIFE. No, not yet; but I mean shortly to be possessed of my ale-money. You shall play no more the sharking foist with me, you fumbling fiddler, you. I hope I have friends at court that will take course that I may have my whole due; and then _foutre_ for Jocelin!

[_Exit._

HUS. Well, the thought is ta'en. I see one must thank God for a shrew as well as for a sheep, though the sheep have more wool on his back, and affords a more savoury repast at the board. Hanging and wedding go by destiny, and I hold the former to be the happier destiny of the twain; yet he that will practise the art of swinging in a halter, either to please or cross a shrew's humour, let him hang like a puppy without hope of pity, and die intestate to make his wife heir on't, till some nimble younker become his successor, and, stumbling on his grave, laugh at the cuckoldly slave.

[_Exit._

SCENE IV.

_Enter the cashiered_ CONFIDANTS, _in a discontented posture_.

FLO. Summoned to appear! for what? What have we done?

CAR. Incensed those humorous scornful ladies. Thence rose the ground, I durst wager my beaver on't; They ought us a spite, and their information has done't.

PAL. This falls pat on their resolves: for those disdainful wenches, in the heat of their passion, vowed jointly that revenge should kick up our heels.

SAL. Our heels are not so short, though theirs be. Should they pursue this information, it would dart highly on their dishonour.

MOR. Honour! what may that be in this age, but an airy title? These _bona-robas_ have not lost the art of ingratiating, nor deluding their servants. There be chimneys enough at court to convey their smoke. Beauty and confidence keep strong sentinels in love's army. They cannot want solicitors in a place of liberty.

TIL. Let them hold to't! Their complaints are but squibs in the
air. Such whifflers are below my scorn, and beneath my spite.
Let's bravely on: I should account his fate
The worst of ills, that's foil'd by woman's hate.

FLO. Yet 'twas Alcides' heavy fate, and he Was stronger far than twenty such as we.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE V.

_Enter the_ ALIMONY LADIES.

FRI. Convened to court! Some masque or princely ball, I'll gage mine honour on't. We must be employed, sisters.

CAV. And usefully too, I hope.

JUL. I see well the court can do nothing without our city revellers. Trust me, I am with child till I get to't: but my desires are enlivened for a sight of my lord especially.

JOC. Or your special lord, madam. We smell your meaning. As I am virtuous, he deserves your smile, or whatsoever may most endear him. I have known none at any time court love with a more graceful nor accurate presence. He can be both seriously amorous and amorously serious.

MED. Surely, Lady Joculette, you set him at a rate far above th' market? you value him not as if you meant to sell.

JOC. No, nor buy neither. I have no property in such a rich pennyworth; for, if I had, I should wish----

MED. I know what, madam.

JOC. Good now! thy conceit?

MED. Shall I freely unbosom me?

ALL. Pray thee, madam; do, madam!

MED. You would wish that, his puny baker-legs had more Essex[178] growth in them, for else they would make ill butcher's ware!

JOC. Thou art a shrewd wench, trust me.

TIN. Well, ladies, I know a new-minted lord, that can act the Spanish Don, with a peaked beard and a starched look, to an hair.

FRI. O Madam Tinder, I guess where you are; but he wants a little of your spirit. He can cringe and caress better than he dare fight. A lady's honour might perish under such a feverish champion.

CAR. For love's sake, let's make haste. Nothing will be done till we come.

_Enter_ CHRISTABEL _with a crutch_.

CHRIS. Good madam landlady, take lame Christabel along with you; she means to have a bout for her ale-money.

JOC. We shall not want, then, for handsome attendance.

[_Exeunt._

SCENE VI.

_Enter_ GENTLEMAN-USHER.

G.-USHER. Give way! make present way for his excellence and his consuls.

_Enter_ DUKE EUGENIO _and his Consuls. After them the
deserted_ KNIGHTS; _the_ PLATONIC CONFIDANTS; _the_
ALIMONY LADIES; _the_ TUNIS ENGAGERS.

DUKE. As we have view'd and clear'd our foreign coasts, We're now to prune those wild luxurious sprays, Which give impede unto this spreading vine, Our flow'ry Seville, whose succeeding fame, Acquir'd by civil[179] discipline, exacts Our care and yours, grave councillors of state. 'Tis not enough with balms to close the skin, And leave the wound t' exulcerate within; For he, whose care's to cure the core without And searcheth not the bottom, spoils the root. Let's first then look on vices, which put on The face of virtue; and where modesty (Merely dissembled) cloth'd with taking beauty, Arms itself strongly 'gainst all opposition. Nay, what retains ofttimes such influence On reverend scarlet, as it darks the light Of judgment; and makes elders fix their eyes On rare-light objects, which so strangely takes, As they make judges vice's advocates. But here's none such, I hope. Our state is free, And so our patriots and state-consuls be. Complaints inform us, and we wond'red much At th' first perusal, how a feminine nature, So sweetly pleasing, should be so deprav'd.

FRI. What means the duke?

[_Aside._

CAR. I relish not th' discourse.

[_Aside._

DUKE. Have we not here some ladies o'th' New Dress, So newly styl'd, and in their honour soil'd, Who have deserted whom they ought to love?

LADIES. Is this the court masque, and the ball we
look'd for?

[_Aside._

DUKE. Be you those ladies?

CHRIS. I am one of them, forsooth.

LADIES. We are the same, so like your excellence. And now redress'd.

DUKE. We understand no less: Your alimonies signed by our court!

CHRIS. They have not signed mine, if't please your dukeship. Truly, I am a very impudent, lame woman, and my husband a feeble, weak-doing man. Your grace must needs grant me ale-money.

DUKE. See what examples, ladies, you have given To simple women! I shall here propose Two tenders to your choice: either receive (And with a conjugal endearment, too) Your late-deserted husbands, or prepare The remainder of your days to entertain A strict monastic life. Your sentence's pass'd: Choose which you please.

JOC. I never shall endure A cloister'd life, unless I had a friar; Sir Gregory Shapeless shall be my Platonic.

MED. Rather than none, I'll take Sir Tristram Shorttool.

JUL. I for Sir Arthur Heartless.

CAV. I must put on my nightgown for Sir Jasper Simpleton.

FRI. Sir Amadin Puny then must be my joy, Who will be still, I think, a puny boy.

TIN. Well, since we are to this condition grown, 'Tis better far to use our own than none. While I, of youthful favourites bereft, Will live with Scattergood, if aught be left.

SIR REU. Nay, madam, but it were not amiss if you knew first whether Scattergood will live with you, or no. Release your alimony, and I'll resign my right in your propriety;[180] and in my widowed life mourn in sack: lo, infinitely.[181]

DUKE. This juncto must be fix'd on firmer ground; Coolness of fancy acts not on the object Which it pretends to love. Join hearts to hands, And in this second contract reunite What was so long divided. Love's a cement Admits no other allay but itself To work upon th' affections. [_To the husbands._] Be it yours (For virile spirits should be so demean'd), With pleasing candour to remit what's pass'd, And with mild glosses to interpret thus In their defence still to the better sense; "Their frailties in your ladies wrought these failings, Which pious pity should commiserate, And seal it with indulgence. [_To the ladies._] Then intend Your office, madams: which is to redeem Your late-abused time: which may be deem'd Richly recover'd, being once redeem'd."

LADIES. May all our actions close with discontent When we oppose their humours.

KNIGHTS. Say and hold; And this act of oblivion shall be sign'd.

[_They salute, and take hands._

DUKE. This does content us highly; powers above Makes lovers' breach renewal of their love.[182]

CHRIS. And must Christabel, too, pack home to her husband without her ale-money?

DUKE. Or to thy death an aged prioress!

CHRIS. Nay, but by your good favour I'll meddle with none of your priorities; I'll rather go mumble a crust at home, and chuck my old Jocelin.

DUKE. Nor is this all; our sentence must extend Unto those ladies' favourites, whose hours, Strangely debauch'd, make spoil of women's honours.

LADIES. We hate them worse than hell.

FAVOURITES. Good your grace, we are reclaim'd.

DUKE. That's but an airy note. When practical, we'll hold it cordial. Meantime, we do adjudge you to the quarries; Where you shall toil, till a relation give Test of your reformation. Look on those Tunis-engagers, who were timely drawn From their trepanning course, and by their hazard, Secur'd through valour, rais'd their ruin'd fortunes Above expectance! When your work is done, We shall find like adventures[183] for your spirits To grapple with, and rear your blanch'd repute. Leave interceding, for we are resolv'd. Now, conscript consuls, whose direction gives Life to our laws, we cannot choose but wonder How your impartial judgments should submit (As if they had been biassed) to grant These alimonies to their loose demands. Sure, such decrees would not have relish'd well Your jealous palates, had you so been used. "Wives to desert your beds, impeach your fames, In public courts discover your defects, Nay, to belie your weakness, and recover For all these scandals alimonious wages To feed their boundless riot!"

CONSUL. They're annull'd; Our courts will not admit them.

DUKE. 'Tis well done, For gentlemen t' engage their state and fame, And beds of honour, were a juggling game. So we dismiss you. May the palms of peace Crown Seville's state with safety and increase. Whereto when our reluctant actions give The least impede, may we no longer live!

[_Exeunt omnes. Trumpets sounding._