Chapter VI: Act IV: Scene I

_Room in_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.

_Enter_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS, Sir LIONEL FREEVILL,
CRISPINELLA; _servants with lights_.

_Sir Hub._ More lights! Welcome, Sir Lionel Freevill!
brother Freevill, shortly. Look to your lights!

_Serv._ The masquers are at hand.

_Sir Lio._ Call down our daughter. Hark! they are at
hand: rank handsomely.

_Enter the Masquers; they dance._ _Enter_ BEATRICE, FREEVILL,
_and_ MALHEUREUX. MALHEUREUX _takes_ BEATRICE _from_ FREEVILL:
_they draw_.

_Free._ Know, sir, I have the advantage of the place;
You are not safe: I would deal even with you.

_Mal._ So.

[_They exchange gloves as pledges._

_Free._ So.

_Bea._ I do beseech you, sweet, do not for me provoke
your fortune. 11

_Sir Lio._ What sudden flaw is risen?

_Sir Hub._ From whence comes this?

_Free._ An ulcer, long time lurking, now is burst.

_Sir Hub._ Good sir, the time and your designs are soft.

_Bea._ Ay, dear sir, counsel him, advise him; 'twill relish well
From your carving. Good my sweet, rest safe.

_Free._ All's well! all's well!--this shall be ended straight.

_Sir Hub._ The banquet stays;--there we'll discourse more large.

_Free._ Marriage must not make men cowards.

_Sir Lio._ Nor rage fools. 19

_Sir Hub._ 'Tis valour not where heat but reason rules.

[_Exeunt; only_ TYSEFEW _and_ CRISPINELLA _stay_.

_Tyse._ But do you hear, lady?--you proud ape, you!
What was the jest you brake of me even now?

_Cris._ Nothing. I only said you were all mettle;--that
you had a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper
beard.

_Tyse._ Quicksilver,--thou little more than a dwarf,
and something less than a woman.

_Cris._ A wisp! a wisp! a wisp!--will you go to the
banquet?

_Tyse._ By the Lord, I think thou wilt marry shortly
too; thou growest somewhat foolish already. 31

_Cris._ O, i'faith, 'tis a fair thing to be married, and a
necessary. To hear this word _must_! If our husbands
be proud, we must bear his contempt; if noisome, we
must bear with the goat under his armholes; if a fool,
we must bear his bable;[76] and, which is worse, if a
loose liver, we must live upon unwholesome reversions;
where, on the contrary side, our husbands--because
they may, and we must--care not for us. Things
hoped with fear, and got with strugglings, are men's high
pleasures, when duty palls and flats their appetite. 41

_Tyse._ What a tart monkey is this! By heaven! if
thou hadst not so much wit, I could find in my heart
to marry thee. Faith, bear with me for all this!

_Cris._ Bear with thee? I wonder how thy mother
could bear thee ten months in her belly, when I cannot
endure thee two hours in mine eye.

_Tyse._ Alas, for your sweet soul! By the Lord, you
are grown a proud, scurvy, apish, idle, disdainful,
scoffing--God's foot! because you have read _Euphues
and his England_,[77] _Palmerin de Oliva_,[78] and the _Legend
of Lies_![79] 52

_Cris._ Why, i'faith, yet, servant, you of all others
should bear with my known unmalicious humours: I
have always in my heart given you your due respect.
And Heaven may be sworn, I have privately given fair
speech of you, and protested----

_Tyse._ Nay, look you; for my own part, if I have not
as religiously vow'd my heart to you,--been drunk to
your health, swallowed flap-dragons,[80] ate glasses, drunk
urine,[81] stabb'd arms,[82] and done all the offices of protested
gallantry for your sake; and yet you tell me I
have a brazen face, a leaden brain, and a copper beard!
Come, yet, and it please you. 64

_Cris._ No, no;--you do not love me.

_Tyse._ By ---- but I do now; and whosoever dares
say that I do not love you, nay, honour you, and if you
would vouchsafe to marry----

_Cris._ Nay, as for that, think on't as you will, but
God's my record,--and my sister knows I have taken
drink and slept upon't,--that if ever I marry, it shall be
you; and I will marry, and yet I hope I do not say it
shall be you neither. 73

_Tyse._ By Heaven, I shall be as soon weary of health
as of your enjoying!--Will you cast a smooth cheek
upon me?

_Cris._ I cannot tell. I have no crump'd shoulders,
my back needs no mantle, and yet marriage is honourable.
Do you think ye shall prove a cuckold?

_Tyse._ No, by the Lord, not I! 80

_Cris._ Why, I thank you, i'faith. Heigho! I slept on
my back this morning, and dreamt the strangest dreams.
Good Lord! How things will come to pass! Will
you go to the banquet?

_Tyse._ If you will be mine, you shall be your own:--my
purse, my body, my heart, is yours,--only be silent
in my house, modest at my table, and wanton in my
bed;--and the Empress of Europe cannot content, and
shall not be contented, better. 89

_Cris._ Can any kind heart speak more discreetly affectionately?
My father's consent; and as for mine----

_Tyse._ Then thus, and thus, so Hymen should begin;
Sometimes a falling out proves falling in.

[_Exeunt._

[76] The word is used in the double sense of (1) babble, (2)
bauble (which was frequently written _bable_).

[77] _Euphues and his England_ is the title of the second part
(first published in 1580) of John Lyly's famous and tedious
romance.

[78] One of the romances published in the series that bears the
general title of _The Mirrour of Knighthood_.

[79] The _Legend of Lies_ is, of course, a fictitious book.

[80] Candle-ends floating in lighted brandy.

[81] This nasty feat of gallantry is mentioned by Middleton, ii.
351.

[82] It appears (from passages in Ben Jonson, Middleton, &c.)
that gallants were accustomed to puncture their arms, and letting
the blood drip into the wine, drink off the mixture to their
mistress' health.

SCENE II.

_Near_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.

_Enter_ FREEVILL, _speaking to some within_; MALHEUREUX
_at the other door_.

_Free._ As you respect my virtue, give me leave
To satisfy my reason, though not blood.--
So all runs right; our feignèd rage hath ta'en
To fullest life: they are much possess'd
Of force most, most all quarrel. Now, my right friend,
Resolve me with open breast, free and true heart;
Cannot thy virtue, having space to think
And fortify her weakened powers with reason,
Discourses, meditations, discipline,
Divine ejaculatories, and all those aids against devils,--
Cannot all these curb thy low appetite 11
And sensual fury?

_Mal._ There is no God in blood, no reason in desire.
Shall I but live? Shall I not be forced to act
Some deed whose very name is hideous?

_Free._ No.

_Mal._ Then I must enjoy Franceschina.

_Free._ You shall.
I'll lend this ring: show it to that fair devil:
It will resolve me dead;
Which rumour, with my artificial absence,
Will make most firm: enjoy her suddenly. 20

_Mal._ But if report go strong that you are slain,
And that by me,--whereon I may be seized,--
Where shall I find your being?

_Free._ At Master Shatewe's the jeweller's, to whose breast
I'll trust our secret purpose.

_Mal._ Ay, rest yourself;
Each man hath follies.

_Free._ But those worst of all,
Who, with a willing eye, do seeing fall.

_Mal._ 'Tis true, but truth seems folly in madness'
spectacles. I am not now myself, no man: farewell.

_Free._ Farewell. 30

_Mal._ When woman's in the heart, in the soul hell.

[_Exit_ MALHEUREUX.

_Free._ Now, repentance, the fool's whip, seize thee;
Nay, if there be no means I'll be thy friend,
But not thy vices'; and with greatest sense
I'll force thee feel thy errors to the worst;
The wildest of dangers thou shalt sink into.
No jeweller shall see me; I will lurk
Where none shall know or think; close I'll withdraw,
And leave thee with two friends--a whore and knave;
But is this virtue in me? No, not pure, 40
Nothing extremely best with us endures;
No use in simple purities; the elements
Are mix'd for use; silver without allay[83]
Is all too eager[84] to be wrought for use:
Nor precise virtues, ever purely good,
Holds useful size with temper of weak blood.
Then let my course be borne, though with side-wind;
The end being good, the means are well assign'd.

[_Exit._

[83] Old form of _alloy_.

[84] Brittle (Fr. _aigre_).--"_Aigre_, eagre, sharpe, tart,
biting, sower also _brittle, or easily broken with a
hammer_."--_Cotgrave._

SCENE III.

_Franceschina's lodging._

_Enter_ FRANCESCHINA _melancholy_, COCLEDEMOY
_leading her_.

_Coc._ Come, catafugo, Frank o' Frank-hall! who, who
ho! Excellent! Ha, here's a plump-rump'd wench,
with a breast softer than a courtier's tongue, an old
lady's gums, or an old man's _mentula_. My fine
rogue----

_Fra._ Pah, you poltroon!

_Coc._ Goody fist,[85] flumpum pumpum; ah, my fine wag-tail,
thou art as false, as prostituted, and adulterate as
some translated manuscript. Buss, fair whore, buss!

_Fra._ God's sacrament, pox! 10

_Coc._ _Hadamoy key_, dost thou frown, _medianthon
teukey_? Nay, look here._ Numeron key_, silver _blithefor
cany, os cany_ goblet: _us key ne moy blegefoy oteeston pox_,
on you gosling!

_Fra._ By me fait, dis bin very fine langage; ick sall
bush ye now; ha, be garzon, vare had you dat plate?

_Coc._ _Hedemoy key_, get you gone, punk rampant, _key_,
common up-tail!

_Enter_ MARY FAUGH _in haste_.

_Mar._ O daughter, cousin, niece, servant, mistress!

_Coc._ Humpum, plumpum squat, I am gone. 20

[_Exit_ COCLEDEMOY.

_Mar._ There is one Master Malheureux at the door
desires to see you. He says he must not be denied,
for he hath sent this ring; and withal says 'tis done.

_Fra._ Vat sall me do now, God's sacrament! Tell him
two hours hence he sall be most affectionately velcome;
tell him (vat sall me do?), tel him ick am bin in my bate,
and ick sall perfume my feets, mak a mine body so delicate
for his arm, two hours hence.

_Mar._ I shall satisfy him: two hours hence, well. 29

[_Exit_ MARY.

_Fra._ Now ick sall revange; hay, begar, me sal tartar
de whole generation! Mine brain vork it. Freevill is
dead, Malheureux sall hang; and mine rival, Beatrice,
ick sall make run mad.

_Enter_ MARY FAUGH.

_Mar._ He's gone, forsooth, to eat a caudle of cock-stones,
and will return within this two hours.

_Fra._ Verie vel, give monies to some fellow to squire
me; ick sal go abroad.

_Mar._ There's a lusty bravo beneath, a stranger, but a
good stale[86] rascal. He swears valiantly, kicks a bawd
right virtuously, and protests with an empty pocket right
desperately. He'll squire you. 41

_Fra._ Very velcom; mine fan; ick sall retorn presantly.
Now sal me be revange; ten tousant devla! der sall be
no got in me but passion, no tought but rage, no mercy
but bloud, no spirit but divla in me. Dere sal noting
tought good for me, but dat is mischievous for others.

[_Exit._

[85] Ed. 2. "fiest."--See note, p. 42.
[Transcriber's Note: Footnote [46]]

[86] Quy. "tall"?

SCENE IV.

_Room in_ Sir HUBERT SUBBOYS' _house_.

_Enter_ Sir HUBERT, Sir LIONEL, BEATRICE, CRISPINELLA,
_and_ Nurse, TYSEFEW _following_.

_Sir Lio._ Did no one see him since?--pray God!--nay, all is well.
A little heat; what? he is but withdrawn;
And yet I would to God!--but fear you nothing.

_Bea._ Pray God that all be well, or would I were not!

_Tyse._ He's not to be found, sir, anywhere.

_Sir Lio._ You must not make a heavy face presage an
ill event. I like your sister well, she's quick and lively:
would she would marry, faith.

_Cri._ Marry, nay and I would marry, methinks an old
man's a quiet thing. 10

_Sir Lio._ Ha, mass! and so he is.

_Cri._ You are a widower?

_Sir Lio._ That I am, i'faith, fair Crisp; and I can tell
you, would you affect me, I have it in me yet, i'faith.

_Cri._ Troth I am in love; let me see your hand:
would you cast yourself away upon me willingly?

_Sir Lio._ Will I? Ay, by the----

_Cri._ Would you be a cuckold willingly? By my
troth 'tis a comely, fine, and handsome sight, for one of
my years to marry an old man; truth, 'tis restorative;
what a comfortable thing it is to think of her husband,
to hear his venerable cough o' the everlastings, to feel
his rough skin, his summer hands and winter legs, his
almost no eyes, and assuredly no teeth; and then to
think what she must dream of, when she considers
others' happiness and her own want! 'tis a worthy and
notorious comfortable match. 27

_Sir Lio._ Pish, pish! will you have me?

_Cri._ Will you assure me----

_Sir Lio._ Five hundred pound jointure?

_Cri._ That you will die within this fortnight?

_Sir Lio._ No, by my faith, Cris.

_Cri._ Then Crisp by her faith assures you she'll have
none of you.

_Enter_ Young FREEVILL _disguised like a pander, and_
FRANCESCHINA.

_Free._ By'r leave, gentles and men of nightcaps, I would
speak, but that here stands one is able to express her
own tale best.

_Fra._ Sir, mine speech is to you; you had a son,
matre Freevill?

_Sir Lio._ Had, ha! and have. 40

_Fra._ No point,[87] me am come to assure you dat one
mestre Malheureux hath killed him.

_Bea._ O me! wretched, wretched!

_Sir Hub._ Look to our daughter.

_Sir Lio._ How art thou inform'd?

_Fra._ If dat it please you to go vid me, ick sall bring
you where you sall hear Malheureux vid his own lips
confess it, and dare ye may apprehend him, and revenge
your and mine love's blood.

_Sir Hub._ Your love's blood! mistress, was he your
love? 51

_Fra._ He was so, sir; let your daughter hear it: do
not veep, lady; de young man dat be slain did not love
you, for he still lovit me ten tousant tousant times more
dearly.

_Bea._ O my heart, I will love you the better; I cannot
hate what he affected. O passion, O my grief! which
way wilt break, think, and consume!

_Cri._ Peace!

_Bea._ Dear woes cannot speak. 60

_Fra._ For look you, lady, dis your ring he gave me,
vid most bitter jests at your scorn'd kindness.

_Bea._ He did not ill not to love me, but sure he did
not well to mock me: gentle minds will pity, though
they cannot love; yet peace and my love sleep with him.
Unlace, good nurse; alas! I was not so ambitious of so
supreme an happiness, that he should only love me;
'twas joy enough for me, poor soul, that I only might
only love him.

_Fra._ O but to be abused, scorn'd, scoff'd at! O ten
tousand divla, by such a one, and unto such a one! 71

_Bea._ I think you say not true, sister; shall we know
one another in the other world?

_Cri._ What means my sister?

_Bea._ I would fain see him again! O my tortured mind!
Freevill is more than dead, he is unkind!

[_Exeunt_ BEATRICE, CRISPINELLA, _and_ Nurse.

_Sir Hub._ Convey her in, and so, sir, as you said,
Set a strong watch.

_Sir Lio._ Ay, sir, and so pass along with this same common
woman; you must make it good. 80

_Fra._ Ick sall, or let me pay for his mine bloud.

_Sir Hub._ Come, then, along all, with quiet speed.

_Sir Lio._ O fate!

_Tyse._ O sir, be wisely sorry, but not passionate.

[_Exeunt all but_ Young FREEVILL.

_Free._ I will go and reveal myself! stay, no, no;
Grief endears love. Heaven! to have such a wife
Is happiness to breed pale envy in the saints.
Thou worthy dove-like virgin without gall,
Cannot (that woman's evil) jealousy,
Despite disgrace, nay, which is worse, contempt, 90
Once stir thy faith? O truth, how few sisters hast thou!
Dear memory!
With what a suffering sweetness, quiet modesty,
Yet deep affection, she received my death!
And then with what a patient, yet oppressed kindness,
She took my lewdly intimated wrongs!
O the dearest of heaven! were there but three
Such women in the world, two might be saved.
Well, I am great
With expectation to what devilish end 100
This woman of foul soul will drive her plots;
But Providence all wicked art o'ertops;
And impudence must know (tho' stiff as ice),
That fortune doth not always dote on vice.

[_Exit._

[87] "No point"--not at all (Fr. _non point_). See Dyce's
_Shakesp. Glossary_.

SCENE V.

_A Street._

_Enter_ Sir HUBERT, Sir LIONEL, TYSEFEW, FRANCESCHINA,
_and three with halberds_.

_Sir Hub._ Plant a watch there! be very careful, sirs;
the rest with us.

_Tyse._ The heavy night grows to her depth of quiet;
'Tis about mid-darkness.

_Fra._ Mine shambre is hard by; ick sall bring you to
it presantment.

_Sir Lio._ Deep silence! On!

[_Exeunt._

_Coc._ (_within_). Wa, ha, ho!

_Enter_ MULLIGRUB.

_Mul._ It was his voice, 'tis he: he sups with his
cupping-glasses. 'Tis late; he must pass this way: I'll
ha' him--I'll ha' my fine boy, my worshipful Cocledemoy;
I'll moy him; he shall be hang'd in lousy
linen; I'll hire some sectary to make him an heretic
before he die; and when he is dead I'll piss on his
grave. 15

_Enter_ COCLEDEMOY.

_Coc._ Ah, my fine punks, good night, Frank Frailty,
Frail o' Frail-hall! _Bonus noches, my ubiquitari._

_Mul._ Ware polling and shaving, sir.

_Coc._ A wolf, a wolf, a wolf!

[_Exit_ COCLEDEMOY, _leaving his cloak behind him_.

_Mul._ Here's something yet, a cloak, a cloak! Yet
I'll after; he cannot 'scape the watch; I'll hang him if
I have any mercy. I'll slice him.

[_Exit._

_Enter three_ Constables; _to them_ COCLEDEMOY.

_1st Con._ Who goes there? Come before the constable. 24

_Coc._ Bread o' God! constable, you are a watch for
the devil. Honest men are robb'd under your nose;
there's a false knave in the habit of a vintner set upon
me; he would have had my purse, but I took me to my
heels: yet he got my cloak, a plain stuff cloak, poor,
yet 'twill serve to hang him. 'Tis my loss, poor man
that I am! 31

[_Exit._

_Enter_ MULLIGRUB _running with_ COCLEDEMOY'S _cloak_.

_2d Con._ Masters, we must watch better; is't not
strange that knaves, drunkards, and thieves should be
abroad, and yet we of the watch, scriveners, smiths, and
tailors, never stir?

_1st Con._ Hark, who goes there?

_Mul._ An honest man and a citizen.

_2d Con._ Appear, appear; what are you?

_Mul._ A simple vintner.

_1st Con._ A vintner ha! and simple; draw nearer,
nearer; here's the cloak. 41

_2d Con._ Ay, Master Vintner, we know you: a plain
stuff cloak; 'tis it.

_1st Con._ Right, come! O thou varlet, dost not thou
know that the wicked cannot 'scape the eyes of the
constable?

_Mul._ What means this violence? As I am an honest
man I took the cloak----

_1st Con._ As you are a knave, you took the cloak, we
are your witnesses for that. 50

_Mul._ But, hear me, hear me! I'll tell you what I am.

_2d Con._ A thief you are.

_Mul._ I tell you my name is Mulligrub.

_1st Con._ I will grub you. In with him to the stocks;
there let him sit till to-morrow morning, that Justice
Quodlibet may examine him.

_Mul._ Why, but I tell thee----

_2d Con._ Why, but I tell thee, we'll tell thee now.

_Mul._ Am I not mad? am I not an ass? Why, scabs,
God's-foot! let me out. 60

_2d Con._ Ay, ay, let him prate; he shall find matter
in us scabs, I warrant: God's-so, what good members
of the commonwealth do we prove!

_1st Con._ Prithee, peace; let's remember our duties,
and let's[88] go sleep, in the fear of God.

[_Exeunt, having left_ MULLIGRUB _in the stocks_.

_Mul._ Who goes there? Illo, ho, ho: zounds, shall I
run mad--lose my wits! Shall I be hang'd? Hark;
who goes there? Do not fear to be poor, Mulligrub;
thou hast a sure stock now.

_Re-enter_ COCLEDEMOY _like a bellman_.

_Coc._ The night grows old, 70
And many a cuckold
Is now--Wha, ha, ha, ho!
Maids on their backs
Dream of sweet smacks,
And warm--Wo, ho, ho, ho!
I must go comfort my venerable Mulligrub, I must
fiddle him till he fist.[89] Fough!
Maids in your night-rails,
Look well to your light--
Keep close your locks, 80
And down your smocks;
Keep a broad eye,
And a close thigh.
Excellent, excellent! Who's there? Now, Lord, Lord--Master
Mulligrub--deliver us! what does your worship
in the stocks? I pray come out, sir.

_Mul._ Zounds, man, I tell thee I am lock'd!

_Coc._ Lock'd! O world! O men! O time! O night!
that canst not discern virtue and wisdom, and one of
the common council! What is your worship in for? 90

_Mul._ For (a plague on't) suspicion of felony.

_Coc._ Nay, and it be such a trifle, Lord, I could weep,
to see your good worship in this taking. Your worship
has been a good friend to me, and tho' you have forgot
me, yet I knew your wife before she was married, and
since I have found your worship's door open, and I
have knock'd, and God knows what I have saved: and
do I live to see your worship stocked?

_Mul._ Honest bellman, I perceive
Thou knowest me: I prithee call the watch. 100
Inform the constable of my reputation,
That I may no longer abide in this shameful habitation,
And hold thee all I have about me.

[_Gives him his purse._

_Coc._ 'Tis more than I deserve, sir: let me alone for
your delivery.

_Mul._ Do, and then let me alone with Cocledemoy.
I'll moy him!

_Re-enter the_ Constables.

_Coc._ Maids in your----
Master Constable, whose that ith' stocks?

_1st Con._ One for a robbery: one Mulligrub, he calls
himself. Mulligrub? Bellman, knowest thou him? 111

_Coc._ Know him! O, Master Constable, what good
service have you done! Know him? He's a strong
thief; his house has been suspected for a bawdy tavern
a great while, and a receipt for cut-purses, 'tis most
certain. He has been long in the black book, and is he
ta'en now?

_2d Con._ By'r lady, my masters, we'll not trust the
stocks with him, we'll have him to the justices, get a
_mittimus_ to Newgate presently. Come, sir, come on,
sir. 121

_Mul._ Ha! does your rascalship yet know my worship
in the end?

_1st Con._ Ay, the end of your worship we know.

_Mul._ Ha! goodman constable, here's an honest fellow
can tell you what I am?

_2d Con._ 'Tis true, sir; y'are a strong thief, he says,
on his own knowledge. Bind fast, bind fast! we know
you. We'll trust no stocks with you. Away with him
to the jail instantly. 130

_Mul._ Why, but dost hear? Bellman, rogue, rascal!
God's--why, but--

[_The Constables drag away_ MULLIGRUB.

_Coc._ Why, but! wha, ha, ha! excellent, excellent!
ha, my fine Cocledemoy, my vintner fists. I'll make
him fart crackers before I ha' done with him; to-morrow
is the day of judgment. Afore the Lord God, my
knavery grows unperegall;[90] 'tis time to take a nap, until
half an hour hence. God give your worship music,
content, and rest.

[_Exit._

[88] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "let."

[89] See note, p. 42. [Transcriber's note: Footnote [46]]

[90] Unequalled.