Chapter XVII: Act V: Scene I

_A Room in_ CAMILLO’s _House_.

_Enter_ CAMILLO, HIPPOLITO, VIRGILIO, ASORINO, BAPTISTA,
BENTIVOGLIO, DOYT, _and_ DANDYPRAT, _all weaponed,
their rapiers’ sheaths[756] in their hands_.

CAM. Gentlemen and noble Italians, whom I love best,
who know best what wrongs I have stood under, being
laid on by him who is to thank me for his life: I did
bestow him, as the prize of mine honour, upon my love,
the most fair Violetta: my love’s merit was basely
sold to him by the most false Violetta. Not content
with this felony, he hath dared to add the sweet theft
of ignoble marriage: she’s now none’s but his; and he,
treacherous villain, any one’s but hers: he doats, my
honoured friends, on a painted courtesan; and, in
scorn of our Italian laws, our family, our revenge,
loathes Violetta’s bed, for a harlot’s bosom. I
conjure you, therefore, by all the bonds of gentility,
that as you have solemnly sworn a most sharp, so let
the revenge be most sudden.
VIR. Be not yourself a bar to that suddenness by this
protraction.
OMNES. Away, gentlemen, away then!
HIP. As for that light hobbyhorse, my sister, whose foul
name I will rase out with my poniard, by the honour of
my family, which her lust hath profaned, I swear—and,
gentlemen, be in this my sworn brothers—I swear, that as
all Venice does admire her beauty, so all the world
shall be amazed at her punishment. Follow, therefore.
VIR. Stay, let our resolutions keep together: whither go
we first?
CAM. To the strumpet Imperia’s.
OMNES. Agreed: what then?
CAM. There to find Fontinelle: found, to kill him——
VIR. And killed, to hang out his reeking body at his
harlot’s window.
CAM. And by his body, the strumpet’s——
HIP. And between both, my sister’s.
VIR. The tragedy is just: on then, begin.
CAM. As you go, every hand pull in a friend, to
strengthen us against all opposites. He that has any
drop of true Italian blood in him, thus vow, this
morning, to shed others’, or let out his own. If you
consent to this, follow me.
OMNES. _Via_,[757] away! the treacherous Frenchman
dies.
HIP. Catso,[758] Saint Mark, my pistol! thus death
flies. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_A Room in_ IMPERIA’s _House_.

_Enter_ FONTINELLE _and_ IMPERIA, _arm in arm_.

IMP. Ah, you little effeminate sweet chevalier, why
dost thou not get a loose periwig of hair on the chin,
to set thy French face off? By the panting pulse of
Venus, thou art welcome a thousand degrees beyond the
reach of arithmetic. Good, good, good; your lip is moist
and moving; it hath the truest French close, even like
Mapew,[759] la, la, la, &c.
FONT. Dear lady! O life of love, what sweetness dwells
In love’s variety! The soul that plods
In one harsh book of beauty, but repeats
The stale and tedious learning, that hath oft
Faded the senses; when, in reading more,
We glide in new sweets, and are starv’d with store.
Now, by the heart of love, my Violet
Is a foul weed, (O pure Italian flower!)
She[760] a black negro, to the white compare
Of this unequall’d beauty? O most accurst,
That I have given her leave to challenge me!
But, lady, poison speaks Italian well,
And in a loath’d kiss I’ll include her hell.
IMP. So, so, so; do, do, do. Come, come, come, will you
condemn the mute rushes[761] to be pressed to death by
your sweet body? Down, down, down; here, here, here;
lean your head upon the lap of my gown; good, good,
good. O Saint Mark! here is a love-mark able to wear
more ladies’ eyes for jewels than—O, lie still, lie
still! I will level a true Venetian kiss over your right
shoulder.
FONT. Shoot home, fair mistress, and as that kiss
flies
From lip to lip, wound me with your sharp eyes.
IMP. No, no, no, I’ll beat this cherry-tree thus, and
thus, and thus, and[762] you name wound. [_Kisses
him._
FONT. I will offend so, to be beaten still.
IMP. Do, do, do; and if you make any more such lips when
I beat you, by my virginity, you shall buss this rod.
Music, I pray thee be not a puritan; sister to the rest
of the sciences, I knew the time when thou couldst abide
handling. [_Loud music._] O fie, fie, fie, forbear! thou
art like a puny barber, new come to the trade; thou
pickst[763] our ears too deep. So, so, so; will my sweet
prisoner entertain a poor Italian song?
FONT. O most willingly, my dear madonna!
IMP. I care not if I persuade my bad voice to wrestle
with this music, and catch a strain: so, so, so: keep
time, keep time, keep time. [_Sings._
_Love for such a cherry lip
Would be glad to pawn his arrows;
Venus here to take a sip
Would sell her doves and team of sparrows.
But they shall not so;
Hey nonny, nonny no!
None but I this lip must owe;[764]
Hey nonny, nonny no!_
FONT. Your voice does teach the music.
IMP. No, no, no.
FONT. Again, dear love.
IMP. Hey nonny, nonny no!
_Did Jove see this wanton eye,
Ganymede must wait no longer;
Did Phœbe here one night lie,[765]
Would change her face and look much younger.
But they shall not so;
Hey nonny, nonny no!
None but I this lip must owe;
Hey nonny, nonny no!_

_Enter_ FRISCO, TRIVIA, _and_ SIMPERINA, _running_.

FRIS. O madonna!
TRIV. Mistress!
SIM. Madonna!
FRIS. Case up this gentleman: there’s rapping at door;
and one, in a small voice, says there’s Camillo and
Hippolito.
SIM. And they will come in.
FONT. Upon their deaths they shall, for they seek
mine.
IMP. No, no, no: lock the doors fast; Trivia, Simperina,
stir.
TRIV. _and_ SIM. Alas!
FONT. Come they in shape of devils, this angel by,
I’m[766] arm’d; let them come in; ud’s foot, they die.
IMP. Fie, fie, fie; I will not have thy white body——
VIOL. [_within_] What ho, madonna! [_Knocking within._
IMP. O hark! Not hurt for the Rialto! go, go, go, put
up;[767] by my virginity, you shall put up.
VIOL. [_within_] Here are Camillo and Hippolito.
IMP. Into that little room; you are there as safe as in
France or the Low Countries.
FONT. O God! [_Exit._
IMP. So, so, so; let them enter. Trivia, Simperina,
smooth my gown, tread down the rushes;[768] let them
enter; do, do, do. [_Exit_ FRISCO.]—No words, pretty
darling.—La, la, la, hey nonny, nonny no! [_Singing._

_Re-enter_ FRISCO _with_ VIOLETTA.

FRIS. Are two men transformed into one woman?
IMP. How now? what motion’s this?[769]
VIOL. By your leave, sweet beauty, pardon my excuse,
which, under the mask of Camillo’s and my brother’s
names, sought entrance into this house. Good sweetness,
have you not a property here improper to your house, my
husband?
IMP. Hah! your husband here?
VIOL. Nay, be as you seem to be, white dove, without
gall.
IMP. Gall? your husband? ha, ha, ha! by my ventoy,[770]
yellow[771] lady, you take your mark improper; no, no,
no, my sugar-candy mistress, your goodman is not here, I
assure you: here? ha, ha!
TRIV. _and_ SIM. Here?
FRIS. Much husbands here![772]
VIOL. Do not mock me, fairest Venetian; come, I know
he’s here. Good faith, I do not blame him; for your
beauty gilds[773] over his error. Troth, I am right glad
that you, my countrywoman, have received the pawn of my
affections: you cannot be hard-hearted, loving him; nor
hate me, for I love him too. Since we both love him, let
us not leave him, till we have called home the ill
husbandry of a sweet straggler. Prithee, good wench, use
him well.
IMP. So, so, so!
VIOL. If he deserve not to be used well (as I’d be loath
he should deserve it), I’ll engage myself, dear beauty,
to thine honest heart: give me leave to love him, and
I’ll give him a kind of leave to love thee. I know he
hears me: I prithee, try mine eyes if they know him,
that have almost drowned themselves in their own salt
water, because they cannot see him. In troth, I’ll not
chide him: if I speak words rougher than soft kisses, my
penance shall be to see him kiss thee, yet to hold my
peace.
FRIS. And that’s torment enough: alas, poor wench!
SIM. She’s an ass, by the crown of my maidenhead: I’d
scratch her eyes out, if my man[774] stood in her
tables.
VIOL. Good partner, lodge me in thy private bed,
Where, in supposed folly, he may end
Determin’d sin. Thou smil’st: I know thou wilt.
What looseness may term dotage, truly read,
Is love ripe-gather’d, not soon withered.
IMP. Good troth, pretty wedlock, thou makest my little
eyes smart with washing themselves in brine. I keep your
cock from his own roost, and mar such a sweet face, and
wipe off that dainty red, and make Cupid toll the bell
for your love-sick heart? no, no, no; if he were Jove’s
own ingle,[775] Ganymede: fie, fie, fie, I’ll none. Your
chamber-fellow is within: thou shalt enjoy my bed and
thine own pleasure this night.—Simperina, conduct in
this lady.—Frisco, silence. Ha, ha, ha! I am sorry to
see a woman so tame a fool. Come, come, come.
VIOL. Star of Venetian beauty, thanks.—O, who
Can bear this wrong, and be a woman too? [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A Street; before_ IMPERIA’s _House_.

_Enter, on one side_, CAMILLO, HIPPOLITO, VIRGILIO,
ASORINO, BAPTISTA, BENTIVOGLIO, DOYT, _and_ DANDYPRAT;
_on the other, the_ DUKE _and Gentlemen, and_ BLURT
_and his Watch with torches_.

OMNES.[776] We are dishonour’d; give us way; he dies,
He dies——
DUKE. I charge you, by your duties to
The state, and love to gentry, sheathe your weapons.
BLURT. Stand: I charge you, put up your naked weapons,
and we’ll put up our rusty bills.[777]
CAM. Up to the hilts we will in his French body:
My lord, we charge you, by the ravish’d honour
Of an Italian lady, by our wrongs,
By that eternal blot, which, if this slave
Pass free without revenge, like leprosy
Will run o’er[778] all the body of our fames;
Give open way to our just wrath, lest, barr’d——
DUKE. Gentlemen——
CAM. Breaking the bonds of honour and of duty,
We cut a passage through you with our swords.
OMNES. He that withstands us, run him through.
BLURT. I charge you, i’ th’ duke’s name, before his own
face, to keep the peace.
CAM. Keep thou the peace, that hast a peasant’s heart.
WATCH. Peasant?
CAM. Our peace must have her cheeks painted with
blood.
OMNES. Away through——
BLURT. Sweet gentlemen, though you have called the
duke’s own ghost peasant, for I walk for him i’ th’
night—Kilderkin and Piss-breech hold out—yet hear me,
dear bloods. The duke here, for fault of a better, and
myself—Cuckoo, fly not hence—for fault of a better, are
to lay you by the heels, if you go thus with fire and
sword; for the duke is the head, and I, Blurt, am the
purtenance.—Woodcock, keep by my side.—Now, sir[s]——
OMNES. A plague upon this Woodcock! kill the watch.
DUKE. Now, in the name of manhood, I conjure ye,
Appear in your true shapes, Italians;
You kill your honours more in this revenge
Than in his murder. Stay, stand; here’s the house.
BLURT. Right, sir, this is the whore-house; here he
calls and sets in his staff.
DUKE. Sheathe all your weapons, worthy gentlemen;
And by my life I swear, if Fontinelle
Have stain’d the honour of your sister’s bed,
The fact being death, I’ll pay you his proud head.
CAM. Arrest him then before our eyes; and see,
Our fury sleeps.
DUKE. This honest officer——
BLURT. Blurt, sir——
DUKE. Shall fetch him forth.—Go, sirrah, in our name
Attach the French lord.
BLURT. Garlic, and the rest, follow strongly.
[_Exit with Watch._
DUKE. O what a scandal were it to a state,
To have a stranger, and a prisoner,
Murder’d by such a troop! Besides, through Venice
Are numbers of his countrymen dispers’d,
Whose rage meeting with yours, none can prevent
The mischief of a bloody consequent.

_Re-enter_ BLURT _and Watch, holding_ FONTINELLE _and
his weapons_.

BLURT. The duke is within an inch of your nose, and
therefore I dare play with it, if you put not up;
deliver, I advise you.
FONT. Yield up my weapons, and my foe[s] so nigh!
Myself and weapons shall together yield:
Come any one, come all.
OMNES. Kill, kill the Frenchman! kill him!
DUKE. Be satisfied, my noble countrymen:
I’ll trust you with his life, so you will pawn
The faiths of gentlemen, no desperate hand
Shall rob him of it; otherwise, he runs
Upon this dangerous point, that dares appose[779]
His rage ’gainst our authority.—French lord,
Yield up this strength; our word shall be your guard.
FONT. Who defies death, needs none; he’s well
prepar’d.
DUKE. My honest fellow, with a good defence,
Enter again; fetch out the courtesan,
And all that are within.
BLURT. I’ll tickle her: it shall ne’er be said that a
brown bill[780] looked pale. [_Exit with Watch._
CAM. Frenchman, thou art indebted to our duke.
FONT. For what?
CAM. Thy life; for, but for him, thy soul
Had long ere this hung trembling in the air,
Being frighted from thy bosom with our swords.
FONT. I do not thank your duke; yet, if you will,
Turn bloody executioners: who dies
For so bright beauty ’s a bright sacrifice.
DUKE. The beauty you adore so is profane;
The breach of wedlock, by our law, is death.
FONT. Law, give me law.
DUKE. With all severity.
FONT. In my love’s eyes immortal joys do dwell;
She is my heaven; she from me, I’m[781] in hell:
Therefore your law, your law.
DUKE. Make way, she comes.

_Re-enter_ BLURT _leading_ IMPERIA, _the rest of the
Watch with_ VIOLETTA _masqued_.

IMP. Fie, fie, fie.
BLURT. Your fie, fie, fie, nor your foh, foh, foh,
cannot serve your turn; you must now bear it off with
head and shoulders.
DUKE. Now fetch Curvetto and the Spaniard hither;
Their punishments shall lie under one doom.
What is she masqu’d?
BLURT. A punk too.—Follow, fellows: Slubber, afore.
[_Exit with Watch._
VIOL. She that is masqu’d is leader of this masque.
What’s here? bows, bills, and guns! Noble Camillo,
[_Unmasquing._
I’m sure you’re lord of this misrule:[782] I pray,
For whose sake do you make this swaggering fray?
CAM. For yours, and for our[783] own; we come resolv’d
To murder him that poisons your chaste bed,
To take revenge on you for your false heart;
And, wanton dame, our wrath here must not sleep;
Your sin being deep’st, your share shall be most deep.
VIOL. With pardon of your grace, myself to you all,
At your own weapons, thus do answer all.
For paying away my heart, that was my own;
Fight not to win that, in good troth, ’tis gone.
For my dear love’s abusing my chaste bed,
And her[784] sweet theft, alack, you are misled!
This was a plot of mine, only to try
Your love’s strange temper; sooth, I do not lie.
My Fontinelle ne’er dallied in her arms;
She never bound his heart with amorous charms:
My Fontinelle ne’er loath’d my sweet embrace;
She never drew love’s picture by his face:
When he from her white hand would strive to go,
She never cried, fie, fie, nor no, no, no.
With prayers and bribes we hir’d her, both to lie
Under that roof: for this must my love die?
Who dare be so hard-hearted? Look you, we kiss,
And if he loathe his Violet,[785] judge by this.
[_Kissing him._
FONT. O sweetest Violet! I blush——
VIOL. Good figure,
Wear still that maiden blush, but still be mine.
FONT. I seal myself thine own with both my hands,
In this true deed of gift. Gallants, here stands
This lady’s champion: at his foot I’ll lie[786]
That dares touch her: who taints my constancy,
I am no man for him; fight he with her,
And yield, for she’s a noble conqueror.
DUKE. This combat shall not need; for see, asham’d
Of their rash vows, these gentlemen here break
This storm, and do with hands what tongues should speak.
OMNES. All friends, all friends!
HIP. Punk, you may laugh at this:
Here’s tricks! but, mouth, I’ll stop you with a kiss.

_Enter_ CURVETTO _and_ LAZARILLO, _led by_ BLURT _and
the Watch_.

BLURT. Room; keep all the scabs back, for here comes
Lazarus.
DUKE. O, here’s our other spirits that walk i’ th’
night!
Signior Curvetto, by complaint from her,
And by your writing here, I reach the depth
Of your offence. They charge your climbing up
To be to rob her: if so, then by law
You are to die, unless she marry you.
IMP. I? fie, fie, fie, I will be burnt to ashes first.
CUR. How, die, or marry her? then call me daw:[787]
Marry her—she’s more common than the law—
For boys to call me ox? no, I’m[788] not drunk;
I’ll play with her, but, hang her! wed no punk.
I shall be a hoary courtier then indeed,
And have a perilous[789] head; then I were best
Lie close, lie close, to hide my forked crest.
No, fie, fie, fie; hang me before the door
Where I was drown’d, ere I marry with a whore.
DUKE. Well, signior, for we rightly understand,
From your accusers, how you stood her guest,
We pardon you, and pass it as a jest:
And for the Spaniard sped so hardly too,
Discharge him, Blurt: signior, we pardon you.
BLURT. Sir, he’s not to be discharged, nor so to be shot
off: I have put him into a new suit, and have entered
into him with an action; he owes me two-and-thirty
shillings.
LAZ. It is thy honour to have me die in thy debt.
BLURT. It would be more honour to thee to pay me before
thou diest: twenty shillings of this debt came out of
his nose.
LAZ. Bear witness, great duke, he’s paid twenty
shillings.
BLURT. Signior, no, you cannot smoke me so. He took
twenty shillings of it in a fume,[790] and the rest I
charge him with for his lying.
LAZ. My lying, most pitiful prince, was abominable.
BLURT. He did lie, for the time, as well as any knight
of the post[791] did ever lie.
LAZ. I do here put off thy suit, and appeal: I warn thee
to the court of conscience, and will pay thee by
twopence a-week, which I will rake out of the hot embers
of tobacco-ashes, and then travel on foot to the Indies
for more gold, whose red cheeks I will kiss, and beat
thee, Blurt, if thou watch for me.
HIP. There be many of your countrymen in Ireland,
signior; travel to them.
LAZ. No, I will fall no more into bogs.
DUKE. Sirrah, his debt ourself will satisfy.
BLURT. Blurt, my lord, dare take your word for as much
more.
DUKE. And since this heat of fury is all spent,
And tragic shapes meet comical event,
Let this bright morning merrily be crown’d
With dances, banquets, and choice music’s sound.
[_Exeunt omnes._

------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE PHŒNIX.

_The Phoenix, as it hath beene sundrye times Acted by
the Children of Paules, And presented before his
Maiestie. London Printed by E. A. for A. I., and are
to be solde at the signe of the white horse in Paules
Churchyard._ 1607. 4to.

A second edition, from which frequently words, and
sometimes whole passages, have dropt out, appeared in
1630, 4to. The acts and scenes are not distinguished
in the old copies.

_The Phœnix_ was licensed, by Sir George Bucke, 9th
May, 1607. Chalmers’s _Suppl. Apol._ p. 200.

According to the _Biographia Dramatica_ (a work on
which I place no reliance), the plot of this play is
taken from a Spanish novel, called _The Force of
Love_.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ
DUKE OF FERRARA.
PHŒNIX, _his son_.
PRODITOR, }
LUSSURIOSO, } _nobles_.
INFESTO, }
FIDELIO, _son to_ CASTIZA.
CAPTAIN, _married to_ CASTIZA.
FALSO, _a justice of peace_.
LATRONELLO, }
FUCATO, } _his servants_.
FURTIVO,[792] }
KNIGHT.
TANGLE.
QUIETO.
_Groom._
_Constable._
_Boy._
_Drawer._
_Soldiers._
_Suitors._
_Nobles_, _Gentlemen_, _Officers_, _&c._

CASTIZA, _mother to_ FIDELIO, _and married to the_
CAPTAIN.
_Jeweller’s wife, daughter to_ FALSO.
_Niece to_ FALSO.
_Maid to Jeweller’s wife._

SCENE, FERRARA.

THE PHŒNIX.

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