Chapter LXXIV: Act I: 2628

SCENE I.[2629]

_The vilest out-of-tune music being heard, enter_ BILIOSO _and_ PREPASSO.

_Bil._ Why, how now! Are ye mad, or drunk, or both, or what?

_Pre._ Are ye building Babylon there?

_Bil._ Here’s a noise in court? You think you are in a tavern, do you
not? 5

_Pre._ You think you are in a brothel-house, do you not?—This room
is ill-scented.
_Enter One with a perfume._
So, perfume, perfume: some upon me, I pray thee.
The duke is upon instant entrance; so, make place there!

SCENE II.[2630]

_Enter the_ DUKE PIETRO, FERRARDO, COUNT EQUATO, COUNT CELSO _before, and_ GUERRINO.

_Pietro._ Where breathes that music?

_Bil._ The discord rather than the music is heard from the malcontent
Malevole’s chamber.

_Fer._ [_calling._] Malevole!

_Mal._ (_out of his chamber._) Yaugh, god-a-man, (5) what dost thou
there? Duke’s Ganymede, Juno’s jealous of thy long stockings. Shadow
of a woman, what wouldst, weasel? Thou lamb o’ court, what dost thou
bleat for? Ah, you smooth chinn’d catamite![2631] 10

_Pietro._ Come down, thou rugged[2632] cur, and snarl here; I give
thy dogged sullenness free liberty; trot about and bespurtle[2633]
whom thou pleasest.

_Mal._ I’ll come among you, you goatish-blooded (15) toderers,[2634]
as gum into taffeta, to fret, to fret. I’ll fall like a sponge into
water, to suck up, to suck up. Howl again;[2635] I’ll go to church
and come to you. [_Exit above._]

_Pietro._ This Malevole is one of the most (20) prodigious affections
that ever converst with nature: a man, or rather a monster, more
discontent than Lucifer when he was thrust out of the presence. His
appetite is insatiable as the grave; as far from any content as from 25
heaven. His highest delight is to procure others vexation, and
therein he thinks he truly serves heaven; for ’t is his position,
whosoever in this earth can be contented is a slave and damned;
therefore does he afflict all in (30) that to which they are most
affected.[2636] The elements struggle within him; his own soul is at
variance [within herself]:[2637] his speech is halter-worthy at all
hours. I like him, faith: he gives good intelligence to my spirit,
makes (35) me understand those weaknesses which others’ flattery
palliates. Hark! they sing.

SCENE III.[2638]

_A Song._

_Enter_ MALEVOLE _after the song_.

[_Pietro._] See, he comes. Now shall you hear the extremity of a
malcontent: he is as free as air; he blows over every man.—And, sir,
whence come you now? 4

_Mal._ From the public place of much dissimulation, [the church.][2639]

_Pietro._ What, didst there?

_Mal._ Talk with a usurer; take up at interest. 9

_Pietro._ I wonder what religion thou art [of]?[2639]

_Mal._ Of a soldier’s religion.

_Pietro._ And what dost thou think makes most infidels now? 14

_Mal._ Sects, sects. I have seen seeming Piety change her robe so
oft, that sure none but some arch-devil can shape her a new petticoat.

_Pietro._ O, a religious policy.

_Mal._ But, damnation on a politic religion! I am weary: would I were
one of the duke’s hounds now! 21

_Pietro._ But what ’s the common news abroad, Malevole? Thou dogg’st
rumour still.

_Mal._ Common news? Why, common words are, “God save ye,” “Fare ye
well;” common (25) actions, flattery and cozenage; common things,
women and cuckolds.—And how does my little Ferrard? Ah, ye lecherous
animal!—my little ferret, he goes sucking up and down the palace
into every hen’s nest, like a weasel:— (30) and to what dost thou
addict thy time to now more than to those antique painted drabs that
are still affected of[2640] young courtiers, Flattery, Pride, and
Venery? 34

_Fer._ I study languages. Who dost think to be the best linguist of
our age?

_Mal._ Phew! the devil: let him possess thee; he’ll teach thee to
speak all languages most readily and strangely; and great reason,
marry, he’s travel’d greatly i’ the world, and is everywhere. 41

_Fer._ Save i’ th’ court.

_Mal._ Ay, save i’ th’ court.—(_To_ BILIOSO.) And how does my old
muckhill, overspread with fresh snow? Thou half a man, half a 45
goat, all a beast! how does thy young wife, old huddle?

_Bil._ Out, you improvident rascal!

_Mal._ Do, kick thou hugely-horn’d old duke’s ox, good Master
Make-pleas. 50

_Pietro._ How dost thou live nowadays, Malevole?

_Mal._ Why, like the knight, Sir Patrick Penlolians, with killing o’
spiders for my lady’s monkey. 55

_Pietro._ How dost spend the night? I hear thou never sleep’st.

_Mal._ O, no; but dream the most fantastical! O heaven! O fubbery,
fubbery![2641]

_Pietro._ Dream! What dream’st? 60

_Mal._ Why, methinks I see that signior pawn his footcloth,[2642]
that metreza[2643] her plate: this madam takes physic that t’
other monsieur may minister to her: here is a pander jewel’d;
there a fellow in shift of satin this day, that (65) could not
shift a shirt t’ other night: here a Paris supports that Helen;
there’s a Lady Guinever bears up that Sir Lancelot. Dreams,
dreams, visions, fantasies, chimeras, imaginations, tricks,
conceits!—(_To_ PREPASSO.) Sir (70) Tristram, Trimtram, come aloft,
Jack-an-apes,[2644] with a whim-wham: here’s a knight of the land
of Catito shall play at trap[2645] with any page in Europe; do the
sword-dance with any morris-dancer in Christendom; ride at the ring
till (75) the fin[2646] of his eyes look as blue as the welkin; and
run the wildgoose-chase even with Pompey the Huge.

_Pietro._ You run! 79

_Mal._ To the devil. Now, signior Guerrino, that thou from a most
pitied prisoner shouldst grow a most loath’d flatterer!—Alas, poor
Celso, thy star’s opprest: thou art an honest lord: ’t is pity.

_Equato._ Is ’t pity? 85

_Mal._ Ay, marry is ’t, philosophical Equato; and ’t is pity that
thou, being so excellent a scholar by art, should be so ridiculous a
fool by nature.—I have a thing to tell you, duke: bid ’em avaunt,
bid ’em avaunt. 90

_Pietro._ Leave us, leave us.
_Exeunt all saving_ PIETRO _and_ MALEVOLE.
Now, sir, what is ’t?

_Mal._ Duke, thou art a becco,[2647] a cornuto.[2648]

_Pietro._ How!

_Mal._ Thou art a cuckold. 95

_Pietro._ Speak, unshale[2649] him quick.

_Mal._ With most tumbler-like nimbleness.

_Pietro._ Who? By whom? I burst with desire. 99

_Mal._ Mendoza is the man makes thee a horn’d beast; duke, ’t is
Mendoza cornutes thee.

_Pietro._ What conformance?[2650] Relate; short, short.

_Mal._ As a lawyer’s beard. 105
There is an old crone in the court, her name is Maquerelle,
She is my mistress, sooth to say, and she doth ever tell me.
Blirt[2651] o’ rhyme, blirt o’ rhyme! Maquerelle is a cunning bawd; I
am an honest villain; thy wife is a close drab;[2652] and thou art a
notorious cuckold. Farewell, duke. 111

_Pietro._ Stay, stay.

_Mal._ Dull, dull duke, can lazy patience make lame revenge? O God,
for a woman to make a man that which God never created, never made? 116

_Pietro._ What did God never make?

_Mal._ A cuckold: to be made a thing that ’s hoodwinkt with kindness,
whilst every rascal fillips his brows; to have a coxcomb with 120
egregious horns pinn’d to a lord’s back, every page sporting himself
with delightful laughter, whilst he must be the last must know it.
Pistols and poniards! pistols and poniards!

_Pietro._ Death and damnation! 125

_Mal._ Lightning and thunder!

_Pietro._ Vengeance and torture!

_Mal._ Catso![2653]

_Pietro._ O, revenge!

_Mal._ [[2654]Nay, to select among ten thousand fairs 130
A lady far inferior to the most,
In fair proportion both of limb and soul;
To take her from austerer check of parents,
To make her his by most devoutful rites,
Make her commandress of a better essence 135
Than is the gorgeous world, even of a man;
To hug her with as rais’d an appetite
As usurers do their delv’d-up treasury
(Thinking none tells[2655] it but his private self);
To meet her spirit in a nimble kiss, 140
Distilling panting ardour to her heart;
True to her sheets, nay, diets strong his blood,
To give her height of hymeneal sweets,—

_Pietro._ O God!

_Mal._ Whilst she lisps, and gives him some court-_quelquechose_, 145
Made only to provoke, not satiate:
And yet, even then, the thaw of her delight
Flows from lewd heat of apprehension,
Only from strange imagination’s rankness,
That forms the adulterer’s presence in her soul, 150
And makes her think she clips the foul knave’s loins.

_Pietro._ Affliction to my blood’s root!

_Mal._ Nay, think, but think what may proceed of this; adultery is
often the mother of incest. 155

_Pietro._ Incest!

_Mal._ Yes, incest: mark:—Mendoza of his wife begets perchance a
daughter: Mendoza dies, his son marries this daughter: say you? nay,
’t is frequent, not only probable, but no (160) question often acted,
whilst ignorance, fearless ignorance, clasps his own seed.

_Pietro._ Hideous imagination!

_Mal._ Adultery! Why, next to the sin of simony, ’t is the most
horrid transgression under the cope of salvation.[2656] 166

_Pietro._ Next to simony!

_Mal._ Ay, next to simony, in which our men in next age shall not sin.

_Pietro._ Not sin! why? 170

_Mal._ Because (thanks to some churchmen) our age will leave them
nothing to sin with. But adultery, O dulness! should show[2657]
exemplary punishment, that intemperate bloods may freeze but to think
it.] I would damn him (175) and all his generation: my own hands
should do it; ha, I would not trust heaven with my vengeance anything.

_Pietro._ Anything, anything, Malevole: thou shalt see instantly what
temper my spirit (180) holds. Farewell; remember I forget thee not;
farewell. _Exit_ PIETRO.

[[2658]_Mal._ Farewell.
Lean thoughtfulness, a sallow meditation,
Suck thy veins dry! Distemperance rob thy sleep! 185
The heart’s disquiet is revenge most deep:
He that gets blood, the life of flesh but spills,
But he that breaks heart’s peace, the dear soul kills.
Well, this disguise doth yet afford me that
Which kings do seldom hear, or great men use,— 190
Free speech: and though my state ’s usurpt,
Yet this affected strain gives me a tongue
As fetterless as is an emperor’s.
I may speak foolishly, ay, knavishly, 194
Always carelessly, yet no one thinks it fashion
To poise[2659] my breath; for he that laughs and strikes
Is lightly felt, or seldom struck again.
Duke, I’ll torment thee now: my just revenge
From thee than crown a richer gem shall part:
Beneath God, naught’s so dear as a calm heart.] 200

SCENE IV.[2660]

_Enter_ CELSO.

_Celso._ My honour’d lord,—

_Mal._ Peace, speak low, peace! O Celso, constant lord,
(Thou to whose faith I only rest discovered,
Thou, one of full ten millions of men,
That lovest virtue only for itself; 5
Thou in whose hands old Ops[2661] may put her soul)
Behold forever-banisht Altofront,
This Genoa’s last year’s duke. O truly noble!
I wanted those old instruments of state,
Dissemblance and suspect: I could not time it, Celso; 10
My throne stood like a point in midst of a circle,
To all of equal nearness; bore with none;
Rein’d all alike; so slept in fearless virtue,
Suspectless, too suspectless; till the crowd,
(Still likerous of[2662] untried novelties) 15
Impatient with severer government,
Made strong with Florence, banisht Altofront.

_Celso._ Strong with Florence! ay, thence your mischief rose;
For when the daughter of the Florentine
Was match’d once with this Pietro, now duke,
No stratagem of state untri’d was left, 21
Till you of all—

_Mal._ Of all was quite bereft:
Alas, Maria too, close prisoned,
My true faith’d duchess, i’ the citadel! 24

_Celso._ I’ll still adhere: let’s mutiny and die.

_Mal._ O, no, climb not a falling tower, Celso;
’T is well held desperation, no zeal,
Hopeless to strive with fate. Peace! Temporize!
Hope, hope, that never forsak’st the wretched’st man, 29
Yet bidd’st me live, and lurk in this disguise!
What, play I well the free-breath’d discontent?
Why,[2663] man, we are all philosophical monarchs
Or natural fools. Celso, the court’s a-fire;
The duchess’ sheets will smoke for’t ere ’t be long:
Impure Mendoza, that sharp-nos’d lord, that made 35
The cursed match that linkt Genoa with Florence,
Now broad-horns the duke, which he now knows.
Discord to malcontents is very manna:
When the ranks are burst, then scuffle, Altofront.

_Celso._ Ay, but durst,— 40

_Mal._ ’T is gone; ’t is swallowed like a mineral:
Some say ’t will work; pheut, I’ll not shrink:
He’s resolute who can no lower sink:
[[2664] BILIOSO _entering_, MALEVOLE _shifteth his speech._
O the father of May-poles! did you never see a fellow whose strength
consisted in his breath, (45) respect in his office, religion in his
lord, and love in himself, why, then, behold!

_Bil._ Signior,—

_Mal._ My right worshipful lord, your court night-cap makes you have
a passing high forehead. 51

_Bil._ I can tell you strange news, but I am sure you know them
already: the duke speaks much good of you.

_Mal._ Go to, then: and shall you and I now enter into a strict
friendship? 56

_Bil._ Second one another?

_Mal._ Yes.

_Bil._ Do one another good offices? 59

_Mal._ Just: what though I call’d thee old ox, egregious wittol,
broken-bellied coward, rotten mummy? yet, since I am in favour—

_Bil._ Words of course, terms of disport. His grace presents you by
me a chain, as his grateful remembrance for—I am ignorant for 65
what; marry, ye may impart: yet howsoever—come—dear friend; dost
know my son?

_Mal._ Your son!

_Bil._ He shall eat wood-cocks, dance jigs, make possets, and play
at shuttle-cock with (70) any young lord about the court: he has as
sweet a lady, too; dost know her little bitch?

_Mal._ ’T is a dog, man.

_Bil._ Believe me, a she-bitch. O, ’t is a good creature! thou
shalt be her servant. I’ll (75) make thee acquainted with my young
wife too: what! I keep her not at court for nothing. ’T is grown to
supper-time; come to my table: that, anything I have, stands open to
thee.

_Mal._ (_Aside to_ CELSO.) How smooth to him that is in state of
grace, 80
How servile is the rugged’st courtier’s face!
What profit, nay, what nature would keep down,
Are heav’d to them are minions to a crown.
Envious ambition never sates his thirst,
Till, sucking all, he swells and swells, and bursts. 85

_Bil._ I shall now leave you with my always-best wishes; only let’s
hold betwixt us a firm correspondence, a mutual friendly-reciprocal
kind of a steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued— 90

_Mal._ Did your signorship ne’er see a pigeon-house that was smooth,
round, and white without, and full of holes and stink within? Ha’ ye
not, old courtier? 94

_Bil._ O, yes, ’t is the form, the fashion of them all.

_Mal._ Adieu, my true court-friend; farewell, my dear Castilio.[2665]
_Exit_ BILIOSO.]

_Celso._ Yonder’s Mendoza.
_Descries_ MENDOZA.

_Mal._ True, the privy-key. 99

_Celso._ I take my leave, sweet lord.

_Mal._ ’T is fit; away! _Exit_ CELSO.

SCENE V.[2666]

_Enter_ MENDOZA _with three or four_ Suitors.

_Men._ Leave your suits with me; I can and will. Attend my secretary;
leave me. [_Exeunt_ Suitors.]

_Mal._ Mendoza, hark ye, hark ye. You are a treacherous villain: God
b’ wi’ ye!

_Men._ Out, you base-born rascal! 5

_Mal._ We are all the sons of heaven, though a tripe-wife were our
mother: ah, you whoreson, hot-rein’d he-marmoset! Aegisthus! didst
ever hear of one Aegisthus?

_Men._ Gisthus? 10

_Mal._ Ay, Aegisthus: he was a filthy incontinent flesh-monger, such
a one as thou art.

_Men._ Out, grumbling rogue!

_Mal._ Orestes, beware Orestes!

_Men._ Out, beggar! 15

_Mal._ I once shall rise!

_Men._ Thou rise!

_Mal._ At the resurrection.
No vulgar seed but once may rise and shall;
No king so huge but ’fore he die may fall. 20
_Exit._

_Men._ Now, good Elysium! what a delicious heaven is it for a man
to be in a prince’s favour! O sweet God! O pleasure! O fortune! O
all thou best of life! What should I think, what say, what do to
be a favourite, a minion? (25) to have a general timorous respect
observe[2667] a man, a stateful silence in his presence, solitariness
in his absence, a confused hum and busy murmur of obsequious suitors
training[2668] him; the cloth held up, and way proclaim’d before
(30) him; petitionary vassels licking the pavement with their
slavish knees, whilst some odd palace-lampreels[2669] that engender
with snakes, and are full of eyes on both sides, with a kind of
insinuating humbleness, fix all (35) their delights upon his brow. O
blessed state! what a ravishing prospect doth the Olympus of favour
yield! Death, I cornute the duke! Sweet women! most sweet ladies! nay,
angels! by heaven, he is more accursed than a devil (40) that hates
you, or is hated by you; and happier than a god that loves you, or is
beloved by you. You preservers of mankind, life-blood of society, who
would live, nay, who can live without you? O paradise! how majestical
is your (45) austerer presence! how imperiously chaste is your more
modest face! but, O, how full of ravishing attraction is your pretty,
petulant, languishing, lasciviously-composed countenance! these
amorous smiles, those soul-warming (50) sparkling glances, ardent
as those flames that singed the world by heedless Phaeton! in body
how delicate, in soul how witty, in discourse how pregnant, in life,
how wary, in favours how judicious, in day how sociable, and (55) in
night how—O pleasure unutterable! indeed, it is most certain, one
man cannot deserve only to enjoy a beauteous woman: but a duchess! In
despite of Phoebus, I’ll write a sonnet instantly in praise of her.
_Exit._ 60

SCENE VI.[2670]

_Enter_ FERNEZE _ushering_ AURELIA, EMILIA _and_ MAQUERELLE _bearing up her train_, BIANCA _attending; then exeunt_ EMILIA _and_ BIANCA.

_Aurel._ And is ’t possible? Mendoza slight me! Possible?

_Fer._ Possible!
What can be strange in him that’s drunk with favour,
Grows insolent with grace?—Speak, Maquerelle, speak. 5

_Maq._ To speak feelingly, more, more richly in solid sense than
worthless words, give me those jewels of your ears to receive my
enforced duty. As for my part, ’t is well known I can put up anything
(FERNEZE _privately feeds_ MAQUERELLE’S (10) _hands with jewels
during this speech_); can bear patiently with any man: but when I
heard he wronged your precious sweetness, I was enforced to take deep
offence. ’T is most certain he loves Emilia with high appetite: 15
and, as she told me (as you know we women impart our secrets one to
another), when she repulsed his suit, in that he was possessed with
your endeared grace, Mendoza most ingratefully renounced all faith to
you. 20

_Fer._ Nay, call’d you—Speak, Maquerelle, speak.

_Maq._ By heaven, witch, dri’d biscuit; and contested blushlessly he
lov’d you but for a spurt or so.

_Fer._ For maintenance. 25

_Maq._ Advancement and regard.

_Aurel._ O villain! O impudent Mendoza!

_Maq._ Nay, he is the rustiest-jaw’d, the foulest mouth’d knave in
railing against our sex: he will rail again’ women— 30

_Aurel._ How? how?

_Maq._ I am asham’d to speak ’t, I.

_Aurel._ I love to hate him: speak.

_Maq._ Why, when Emilia scorn’d his base unsteadiness, the
black-throated rascal scolded, and said— 35

_Aurel._ What?

_Maq._ Troth, ’t is too shameless.

_Aurel._ What said he?

_Maq._ Why, that, at four, women were (40) fools; at fourteen, drabs;
at forty, bawds; at fourscore, witches; and [at] a hundred, cats.

_Aurel._ O unlimitable impudency!

_Fer._ But as for poor Ferneze’s fixed heart,
Was never shadeless meadow drier parcht 45
Under the scorching heat of heaven’s dog,
Than is my heart with your enforcing eyes.

_Maq._ A hot simile.

_Fer._ Your smiles have been my heaven, your frowns my hell:
O, pity, then! grace should with beauty dwell. 50

_Maq._ Reasonable perfect, by ’r lady.

_Aurel._ I will love thee, be it but in despite
Of that Mendoza:—witch! Ferneze,—witch!—
Ferneze, thou art the duchess’ favourite:
Be faithful, private: but ’t is dangerous. 55

_Fer._ His love is lifeless that for love fears breath:
The worst that’s due to sin, O, would ’t were death!

_Aurel._ Enjoy my favour. I will be sick instantly and take physic:
therefore in depth of night visit— 60

_Maq._ Visit her chamber, but conditionally you shall not offend her
bed: by this diamond!

_Fer._ By this diamond. _Gives it to_ MAQ.

_Maq._ Nor tarry longer than you please: by this ruby! 65

_Fer._ By this ruby. _Gives again._

_Maq._ And that the door shall not creak.

_Fer._ And that the door shall not creak.

_Maq._ Nay, but swear.

_Fer._ By this purse. _Giving her his purse._

_Maq._ Go to, I’ll keep your oaths for you: (71) remember, visit.

_Enter_ MENDOZA, _reading a sonnet_.

_Aurel._ Dried biscuit!—Look where the base wretch comes. 74

_Men._ “Beauty’s life, heaven’s model, love’s queen,”—

_Maq._ That ’s his Emilia.

_Men._ “Nature’s triumph, best of earth,”—

_Maq._ Meaning Emilia. 79

_Men._ “Thou only wonder that the world hath seen.”—

_Maq._ That ’s Emilia.

_Aurel._ Must I, then, hear her prais’d?—Mendoza!

_Men._ Madam, your excellency is graciously (85) encount’red: I have
been writing passionate flashes in honour of— _Exit_ FERNEZE.

_Aurel._ Out, villain, villain!
O judgment, where have been my eyes? what
Bewitch’d election made me dote on thee? 90
What sorcery made me love thee? But, be gone;
Bury thy head. O, that I could do more
Than loath thee! hence, worst of ill!
No reason else,[2671] our reason is our will. _Exit with_ MAQUERELLE.

_Men._ Women! nay, Furies; nay, worse; (95) for they torment only
the bad, but women good and bad. Damnation of mankind! Breath, hast
thou prais’d them for this? and is ’t you, Ferneze, are wriggled
into smock-grace? Sit sure. O, that I could rail against these
monsters (100) in nature, models of hell, curse of the earth, women!
that dare attempt anything, and what they attempt they care not how
they accomplish; without all premeditation or prevention; rash in
asking, desperate in working, impatient (105) in suffering, extreme
in desiring, slaves unto appetite, mistresses in dissembling, only
constant in unconstancy, only perfect in counterfeiting; their words
are feigned, their eyes forg’d, their sighs dissembled, their looks
(110) counterfeit, their hair false, their given hopes deceitful,
their very breath artificial; their blood is their only god; bad
clothes and old age are only the devils they tremble at. That I could
rail now! 115

SCENE VII.[2672]

_Enter_ PIETRO, _his sword drawn_.

_Pietro._ A mischief fill thy throat, thou foul-jaw’d slave!
Say thy prayers.

_Men._ I ha’ forgot ’em.

_Pietro._ Thou shalt die.

_Men._ So shalt thou. I am heart-mad.

_Pietro._ I am horn-mad.

_Men._ Extreme mad.

_Pietro._ Monstrously mad.

_Men._ Why?

_Pietro._ Why! thou, thou hast dishonoured my bed. 5

_Men._ I! Come, come, sit; here ’s my bare heart to thee,
As steady as is the[2673] centre to this[2674] glorious world:
And yet, hark, thou art a cornuto,—but by me?

_Pietro._ Yes, slave, by thee.

_Men._ Do not, do not with tart and spleenful breath 10
Lose him can lose thee. I offend my duke!
Bear record, O ye dumb and raw-air’d nights,
How vigilant my sleepless eyes have been
To watch the traitor! Record, thou spirit of truth,
With what debasement I ha’ thrown myself 15
To under offices, only to learn
The truth, the party, time, the means, the place,
By whom, and when, and where thou wert disgrac’d!
And am I paid with “slave”? Hath my intrusion
To places private and prohibited, 20
Only to observe the closer passages,
Heaven knows with vows of revelation,
Made me suspected, made me deem’d a villain?
What rogue hath wrong’d us?

_Pietro._ Mendoza, I may err.

_Men._ Err! ’t is too mild a name: but err and err, 25
Run giddy with suspect, ’fore through me thou know
That which most creatures, save thyself, do know:
Nay, since my service hath so loath’d reject,
’Fore I ’ll reveal, shalt find them clipt[2675] together. 29

_Pietro._ Mendoza, thou know’st I am a most plain-breasted man.

_Men._ The fitter to make a cuckold: would your brows were most plain
too!

_Pietro._ Tell me: indeed, I heard thee rail—

_Men._ At women, true: why, what cold phlegm could choose, 35
Knowing a lord so honest, virtuous,
So boundless loving, bounteous, fair-shap’d, sweet,
To be contemn’d, abus’d, defam’d, made cuckold?
Heart! I hate all women for ’t: sweet sheets, (39) wax lights,
antique bedposts, cambric smocks, villanous curtains, arras pictures,
oil’d hinges, and all ye tongue-tied lascivious witnesses of great
creatures’ wantonness,—what salvation can you expect?

_Pietro._ Wilt thou tell me? 45

_Men._ Why, you may find it yourself; observe, observe.

_Pietro._ I ha’ not the patience. Wilt thou deserve me, tell, give it.

_Men._ Take ’t. why, Ferneze is the man, (50) Ferneze: I’ll prove ’t;
this night you shall take him in your sheets. Will ’t serve?

_Pietro._ It will; my bosom ’s in some peace: till night—

_Men._ What?

_Pietro._ Farewell.

_Men._ God! how weak a lord are you!
Why, do you think there is no more but so? 55

_Pietro._ Why!

_Men._ Nay, then, will I presume to counsel you:
It should be thus. You with some guard upon the sudden
Break into the princess’ chamber: I stay behind,
Without the door, through which he needs must pass: 60
Ferneze flies; let him: to me he comes; he’s kill’d
By me, observe, by me: you follow: I rail,
And seem to save the body. Duchess comes,
On whom (respecting her advanced birth, 64
And your fair nature), I know, nay, I do know,
No violence must be us’d; she comes: I storm,
I praise, excuse Ferneze, and still maintain
The duchess’ honour; she for this loves me.
I honour you; shall know her soul, you mine:
Then naught shall she contrive in vengeance 70
(As women are most thoughtful in revenge)
Of her Ferneze, but you shall sooner know ’t
Than she can think ’t. Thus shall his death come sure,
Your duchess brain-caught: so your life secure.

_Pietro._ It is too well: my bosom and my heart 75
When nothing helps, cut off the rotten part. _Exit._

_Men._ Who cannot feign friendship can ne’er produce the effects of
hatred. Honest fool duke! subtle lascivious duchess! silly novice
Ferneze! I do laugh at ye. My brain is in labour till it (80) produce
mischief, and I feel sudden throes, proofs sensible, the issue is at
hand.
As bears shape young, so I’ll form my device,
Which grown proves horrid: vengeance makes men wise. [_Exit._]

[SCENE VIII.][2676]

[_Enter_ MALEVOLE _and_ PASSARELLO.

_Mal._ Fool, most happily encount’red: canst sing, fool?

_Pass._ Yes, I can sing, fool, if you’ll hear the burden; and I can
play upon instruments, scurvily, as gentlemen do. O, that I had been
(5) gelded! I should then have been a fat fool for a chamber, a
squeaking fool for a tavern, and a private fool for all the ladies.

_Mal._ You are in good case since you came to court, fool: what,
guarded,[2677] guarded! 10

_Pass._ Yes, faith, even as footmen and bawds wear velvet, not for an
ornament of honour, but for a badge of drudgery; for, now the duke is
discontented, I am fain to fool him asleep every night. 15

_Mal._ What are his griefs?

_Pass._ He hath sore eyes.

_Mal._ I never observed so much.

_Pass._ Horrible sore eyes; and so hath every cuckold, for the roots
of the horns spring in (20) the eyeballs, and that ’s the reason the
horn of a cuckold is as tender as his eye, or as that growing in the
woman’s forehead, twelve years since, that could not endure to be
toucht.[2678] The duke hangs down his head like a columbine. 25

_Mal._ Passarello, why do great men beg fools?[2679]

_Pass._ As the Welshman stole rushes when there was nothing else to
filch; only to keep begging in fashion. 30

_Mal._ Pooh, thou givest no good reason; thou speakest like a fool.

_Pass._ Faith, I utter small fragments, as your knight courts your
city widow with jingling of his gilt spurs,[2680] advancing his
bush-coloured (35) beard, and taking tobacco: this is all the mirror
of their knightly complements.[2681] Nay, I shall talk when my tongue
is a-going once; ’t is like a citizen on horseback, evermore in a
false gallop. 40

_Mal._ And how doth Maquerelle fare nowadays?

_Pass._ Faith, I was wont to salute her as our English women are at
their first landing in Flushing;[2682] I would call her whore: but
now (45) that antiquity leaves her as an old piece of plastic to work
by, I only ask her how her rotten teeth fare every morning, and so
leave her. She was the first that ever invented perfum’d smocks for
the gentlewomen, and (50) woollen shoes, for fear of creaking for the
visitant. She were an excellent lady, but that her face peeleth like
Muscovy glass.[2683]

_Mal._ And how doth thy old lord, that hath wit enough to be a
flatterer, and conscience enough to be a knave? 55

_Pass._ O, excellent: he keeps beside me fifteen jesters, to instruct
him in the art of fooling, and utters their jests in private to the
duke and duchess. He’ll lie like to your Switzer or (60) lawyer;
he’ll be of any side for most money.

_Mal._ I am in haste, be brief.

_Pass._ As your fiddler when he is paid.—He ’ll thrive, I warrant
you, while your young (64) courtier stands like Good Friday in Lent;
men long to see it, because more fatting days come after it; else
he’s the leanest and pitifullest actor in the whole pageant. Adieu,
Malevole.

_Mal._ O world most vile, when thy loose vanities, 69
Taught by this fool, do make the fool seem wise!

_Pass._ You’ll know me again, Malevole.

_Mal._ O, ay, by that velvet.

_Pass._ Ay, as a pettifogger by his buckram bag. I am as common in
the court as an hostess’s (74) lips in the country; knights, and
clowns, and knaves, and all share me; the court cannot possibly be
without me. Adieu, Malevole.
[_Exeunt._]