Part 11

_Cand._ Just in the middle!--ha--you shall too: what,-- Have you a single penny?

_Cas._ Yes, here’s one.

_Cand._ Lend it me, I pray.

_Flu._ An excellent followed jest!

_Vio._ What will he spoil the lawn now?

_Cand._ Patience, good wife.

_Vio._ Ay, that patience makes a fool of you.--Gentlemen, you might ha’ found some other citizen to have made a kind gull on, besides my husband.

_Cand._ Pray, gentlemen, take her to be a woman; Do not regard her language.--O kind soul: Such words will drive away my customers.

_Vio._ Customers with a murrain! call you these customers?

_Cand._ Patience, good wife.

_Vio._ Pox a’ your patience.

_Geo._ ’Sfoot, mistress, I warrant these are some cheating companions.

_Cand._ Look you, gentlemen, there’s your ware, I thank you, I have your money here; pray know my shop, pray let me have your custom.

_Vio._ Custom quoth’a.

_Cand._ Let me take more of your money.

_Vio._ You had need so.

_Pio._ Hark in thine ear, thou’st lost an hundred ducats.

_Cas._ Well, well, I know’t: is’t possible that _homo_ Should be nor man, nor woman: not once moved; No not at such an injury, not at all! Sure he’s a pigeon, for he has no gall.

_Flu._ Come, come, you’re angry though you smother it: You’re vexed i’faith; confess.

_Cand._ Why, gentlemen, Should you conceit me to be vexed or moved? He has my ware, I have his money for’t, And that’s no argument I’m angry: no: The best logician cannot prove me so.

_Flu._ Oh, but the hateful name of a penn’orth of lawn, And then cut out i’th middle of the piece: Pah, I guess it by myself, ’twould move a lamb Were he a linen-draper, ’twould, i’faith.

_Cand._ Well, give me leave to answer you for that: We are set here to please all customers, Their humours and their fancies;--offend none: We get by many, if we lose by one. May be his mind stood to no more than that, A penn’orth serves him, and ’mongst trades ’tis found, Deny a penn’orth, it may cross a pound. Oh, he that means to thrive, with patient eye Must please the devil if he come to buy!

_Flu._ O wondrous man, patient ’bove wrong or woe, How blessed were men, if women could be so!

_Cand._ And to express how well my breast is pleased, And satisfied in all:--George fill a beaker. [_Exit_ GEORGE. I’ll drink unto that gentleman, who lately Bestowed his money with me.

_Vio._ God’s my life, We shall have all our gains drunk out in beakers, To make amends for pennyworths of lawn!

_Re-enter_ GEORGE _with beaker_.

_Cand._ Here wife, begin you to the gentleman.

_Vio._ I begin to him! [_Spills the wine._

_Cand._ George, fill’t up again: ’Twas my fault, my hand shook. [_Exit_ GEORGE.

_Pio._ How strangely this doth show! A patient man linked with a waspish shrew.

_Flu._ A silver and gilt beaker: I’ve a trick To work upon that beaker, sure ’twill fret him; It cannot choose but vex him. [_Aside._] Signor Castruchio, In pity to thee I have a conceit, Will save thy hundred ducats yet; ’twill do’t, And work him to impatience.

_Cas._ Sweet Fluello, I should be bountiful to that conceit.

_Flu._ Well, ’tis enough.

_Re-enter_ GEORGE _with beaker_.

_Cand._ Here gentlemen to you, I wish your custom, you are exceeding welcome. [_Drinks._

_Cas._ I pledge you, Signor Candido--[_Drinks._]--here you that must receive a hundred ducats.

_Pio._ I’ll pledge them deep, i’faith, Castruchio.--Signor Fluello. [_Drinks._

_Flu._ Come: play’t off to me; I am your last man.

_Cand._ George supply the cup. [_Exit_ GEORGE _who returns with beaker filled_.

_Flu._ So, so, good honest George,-- Here Signor Candido, all this to you.

_Cand._ O, you must pardon me, I use it not.

_Flu._ Will you not pledge me then?

_Cand._ Yes, but not that: Great love is shown in little.

_Flu._ Blurt[139] on your sentences! ’Sfoot, you shall pledge me all.

[139] An exclamation of contempt, equivalent to “a fig for.”--_Dyce._

_Cand._ Indeed I shall not.

_Flu._ Not pledge me? ’Sblood, I’ll carry away the beaker then.

_Cand._ The beaker? Oh! that at your pleasure, sir.

_Flu._ Now by this drink I will. [_Drinks._

_Cas._ Pledge him, he’ll do’t else.

_Flu._ So: I ha’ done you right on my thumb-nail, What, will you pledge me now?

_Cand._ You know me, sir, I am not of that sin.

_Flu._ Why then farewell: I’ll bear away the beaker by this light.

_Cand._ That’s as you please; ’tis very good.

_Flu._ Nay, it doth please me, and as you say, ’tis a very good one. Farewell Signor Candido.

_Pio._ Farewell Candido.

_Cand._ You’re welcome gentlemen.

_Cas._ Art not moved yet? I think his patience is above our wit.

[_Exeunt_ CASTRUCHIO, FLUELLO _carrying off the beaker, and_ PIORATTO.

_Geo._ I told you before, mistress, they were all cheaters.

_Vio._ Why fool! why husband! why madman! I hope you will not let ’em sneak away so with a silver and gilt beaker, the best in the house too.--Go, fellows, make hue and cry after them.

_Cand._ Pray let your tongue lie still, all will be well.-- Come hither, George, hie to the constable, And in calm order wish him to attach them; Make no great stir, because they’re gentlemen, And a thing partly done in merriment. ’Tis but a size above a jest thou knowest, Therefore pursue it mildly. Go begone, The constable’s hard by, bring him along,--make haste again. [_Exit_ GEORGE.

_Vio._ O you’re a goodly patient woodcock,[140] are you not now? See what your patience comes to: every one saddles you, and rides you; you’ll be shortly the common stone-horse of Milan: a woman’s well holped up with such a meacock[141]; I had rather have a husband that would swaddle[142] me thrice a day, than such a one, that will be gulled twice in half-an-hour: Oh, I could burn all the wares in my shop for anger.

[140] Proverbial term for a simpleton.

[141] Milksop.

[142] Beat.

_Cand._ Pray wear a peaceful temper; be my wife, That is, be patient; for a wife and husband Share but one soul between them: this being known, Why should not one soul then agree in one?

_Vio._ Hang your agreements! but if my beaker be gone.-- [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ CASTRUCHIO, FLUELLO, PIORATTO, _and_ GEORGE.

_Cand._ Oh, here they come.

_Geo._ The constable, sir, let ’em come along with me, because there should be no wondering: he stays at door.

_Cas._ Constable, Goodman Abra’m.[143]

[143] Thieves’ slang for a man who shams madness to gain his ends. Compare Dekker’s _Bellman of London_, Grosart, sc. III., p. 101.

_Flu._ Now Signor Candido, ’sblood why do you attach us?

_Cas._ ’Sheart! attach us!

_Cand._ Nay swear not, gallants, Your oaths may move your souls, but not move me; You have a silver beaker of my wife’s.

_Flu._ You say not true: ’tis gilt.

_Cand._ Then you say true; And being gilt, the guilt lies more on you.

_Cas._ I hope y’are not angry, sir.

_Cand._ Then you hope right; for I’m not angry.

_Flu._ No, but a little moved.

_Cand._ I moved! ’twas you were moved, you were brought hither.

_Cas._ But you, out of your anger and impatience, Caused us to be attached.

_Cand._ Nay, you misplace it: Out of my quiet sufferance I did that, And not of any wrath. Had I shown anger, I should have then pursued you with the law, And hunted you to shame, as many worldlings Do build their anger upon feebler grounds; The more’s the pity; many lose their lives For scarce so much coin as will hide their palm: Which is most cruel; those have vexèd spirits That pursue lives; in this opinion rest, The loss of millions could not move my breast.

_Flu._ Thou art a blest man, and with peace dost deal, Such a meek spirit can bless a commonweal.

_Cand._ Gentlemen, now ’tis upon eating-time, Pray part not hence, but dine with me to-day.

_Cas._ I never heard a carter yet say nay To such a motion. I’ll not be the first.

_Pio._ Nor I.

_Flu._ Nor I.

_Cand._ The constable shall bear you company. George, call him in: let the world say what it can, Nothing can drive me from a patient man. [_Exeunt._

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

ACT THE SECOND.

## SCENE I.--_A Room in_ BELLAFRONT’S _House_.

_Enter_ ROGER _with a stool, cushion, looking-glass and chafing-dish; these being set down, he pulls out of his pocket a phial with white colour in it, and two boxes, one with white, another with red paint; he places all things in order, and a candle by them, singing the ends of old ballads as he does it. At last_ BELLAFRONT, _as he rubs his cheek with the colours, whistles within._

ROG. Anon, forsooth.

_Bell._ [_Within._] What are you playing the rogue about?

_Rog._ About you, forsooth; I’m drawing up a hole in your white silk stocking.

_Bell._ Is my glass there? and my boxes of complexion?

_Rog._ Yes, forsooth: your boxes of complexion are here, I think: yes, ’tis here: here’s your two complexions, and if I had all the four complexions, I should ne’er set a good face upon’t. Some men I see, are born, under hard-favoured planets as well as women. Zounds, I look worse now than I did before! and it makes her face glister most damnably. There’s knavery in daubing, I hold my life; or else this only female pomatum.

_Enter_ BELLAFRONT _not full ready;[144] she sits down; curls her hair with her bodkin; and colours her lips._

[144] _i.e._ Not fully dressed.

_Bell._ Where’s my ruff and poker,[145] you blockhead?

[145] A stick used for plaiting ruffs.

_Rog._ Your ruff, your poker, are engendering together upon the cupboard of the court, or the court cupboard.[146]

[146] Sideboard.

_Bell._ Fetch ’em: is the pox in your hams, you can go no faster? [_Strikes him._

_Rog._ Would the pox were in your fingers, unless you could leave flinging! catch-- [_Exit._

_Bell._ I’ll catch you, you dog, by and by: do you grumble? [_Sings._

Cupid is a God, as naked as my nail, I’ll whip him with a rod, if he my true love fail.

_Re-enter_ ROGER _with ruff and poker_.

_Rog._ There’s your ruff, shall I poke it?

_Bell._ Yes, honest Roger--no, stay; prithee, good boy, hold here. [_Sings._] [ROGER _holds the glass and candle_.] Down, down, down, down, I fall down and arise,--down--I never shall arise.

_Rog._ Troth mistress, then leave the trade if you shall never rise.

_Bell._ What trade, Goodman Abra’m?[147]

[147] See note, _ante_, p. 115.

_Rog._ Why that of down and arise or the falling trade.

_Bell._ I’ll fall with you by and by.

_Rog._ If you do I know who shall smart for’t: Troth, mistress, what do I look like now?

_Bell._ Like as you are; a panderly sixpenny rascal.

_Rog._ I may thank you for that: in faith I look like an old proverb, “Hold the candle before the devil.”

_Bell._ Ud’s life, I’ll stick my knife in your guts an you prate to me so!--What? [_Sings._

Well met, pug, the pearl of beauty: umh, umh. How now, Sir Knave? you forget your duty, umh, umh, Marrymuff,[148] sir, are you grown so dainty; fa, la, la, leera, la. Is it you, sir? the worst of twenty, fa, la, la, leera, la.

[148] A common ejaculation of contempt.

Pox on you, how dost thou hold my glass?

_Rog._ Why, as I hold your door: with my fingers.

_Bell._ Nay, pray thee, sweet honey Roger, hold up handsomely. [_Sings._

Pretty wantons warble, &c.

We shall ha’ guests to day, I lay my little maidenhead; my nose itches so.

_Rog._ I said so too last night, when our fleas twinged me.

_Bell._ So, poke my ruff now, my gown, my gown! have I my fall? where’s my fall, Roger?

_Rog._ Your fall, forsooth, is behind. [_Knocking within._

_Bell._ God’s my pittikins![149] some fool or other knocks.

[149] A corruption of “God’s my pity.”--_Dyce._

_Rog._ Shall I open to the fool, mistress?

_Bell._ And all these baubles lying thus? Away with it quickly.--Ay, ay, knock, and be damned, whosoever you be!--So: give the fresh salmon line now: let him come ashore. [_Exit_ ROGER.] He shall serve for my breakfast, though he go against my stomach.

_Enter_ FLUELLO, CASTRUCHIO, _and_ PIORATTO, _with_ ROGER.

_Flu._ Morrow, coz.

_Cas._ How does my sweet acquaintance?

_Pio._ Save thee, little marmoset: how dost thou, good, pretty rogue?

_Bell._ Well, God-a-mercy, good, pretty rascal.

_Flu._ Roger, some light, I prithee.

_Rog._ You shall, signor, for we that live here in this vale of misery are as dark as hell. [_Exit for a candle._

_Cas._ Good tobacco, Fluello?

_Flu._ Smell.

_Pio._ It may be tickling gear: for it plays with my nose already. [_Re-enter_ ROGER _with candle_.

_Rog._ Here’s another light angel,[150] signor.

[150] A gold coin worth about ten shillings. The play upon the word was one of the commonest puns of the time.

_Bell._ What? you pied curtal,[151] what’s that you are neighing?

[151] A docked horse.

_Rog._ I say God send us the light of Heaven, or some more angels.

_Bell._ Go fetch some wine, and drink half of it.

_Rog._ I must fetch some wine, gentlemen, and drink half of it.

_Flu._ Here Roger.

_Cas._ No, let me send, prithee.

_Flu._ Hold, you cankerworm.

_Rog._ You shall send both, if you please, signors.

_Pio._ Stay, what’s best to drink a’ mornings?

_Rog._ Hippocras,[152] sir, for my mistress, if I fetch it, is most dear to her.

[152] Spiced and sweetened wine.

_Flu._ Hippocras? there then, here’s a teston for you, you snake. [_They give money._

_Rog._ Right sir, here’s three shillings and sixpence for a pottle[153] and a manchet.[154] [_Exit._

[153] Half a gallon.

[154] A roll of fine bread.

_Cas._ Here’s most Herculanean tobacco; ha’ some, acquaintance?

_Bell._ Faugh, not I, makes your breath stink like the piss of a fox. Acquaintance, where supped you last night?

_Cas._ At a place, sweet acquaintance, where your health danced the canaries,[155] i’faith: you should ha’ been there.

[155] A sprightly dance.

_Bell._ I there among your punks![156] marry, faugh, hang’em; I scorn’t: will you never leave sucking of eggs in other folk’s hens’ nests?

[156] Prostitutes.

_Cas._ Why, in good troth, if you’ll trust me, acquaintance, there was not one hen at the board; ask Fluello.

_Flu._ No, faith, coz, none but cocks; Signor Malavella drunk to thee.

_Bell._ O, a pure beagle; that horse-leech there?

_Flu._ And the knight, Sir Oliver Lollio, swore he would bestow a taffeta petticoat on thee, but to break his fast with thee.

_Bell._ With me? I’ll choke him then, hang him, mole-catcher! it’s the dreamingest snotty-nose.

_Pio._ Well, many took that Lollio for a fool, but he’s a subtle fool.

_Bell._ Ay, and he has fellows: of all filthy, dry-fisted knights, I cannot abide that he should touch me.

_Cas._ Why, wench? is he scabbed?

_Bell._ Hang him, he’ll not live to be so honest, nor to the credit to have scabs about him; his betters have ’em: but I hate to wear out any of his coarse knight-hood, because he’s made like an alderman’s night-gown, faced all with cony[157] before, and within nothing but fox: this sweet Oliver will eat mutton till he be ready to burst, but the lean-jawed slave will not pay for the scraping of his trencher.

[157] Rabbit-skin.

_Pio._ Plague him; set him beneath the salt, and let him not touch a bit, till every one has had his full cut.

_Flu._ Lord Ello, the gentleman-usher, came into us too; marry ’twas in our cheese, for he had been to borrow money for his lord, of a citizen.

_Cas._ What an ass is that lord, to borrow money of a citizen!

_Bell._ Nay, God’s my pity, what an ass is that citizen to lend money to a lord!

_Enter_ MATHEO _and_ HIPPOLITO; HIPPOLITO _saluting the company, as a stranger, walks off_.[158] ROGER _comes in sadly behind them, with a pottle pot, and stands aloof off_.

[158] _i.e._ Retires to the background.

_Mat._ Save you, gallants. Signor Fluello, exceedingly well met, as I may say.

_Flu._ Signor Matheo, exceedingly well met too, as I may say.

_Mat._ And how fares my little pretty mistress?

_Bell._ Ee’n as my little pretty servant; sees three court dishes before her, and not one good bit in them:--How now? why the devil standest thou so? Art in a trance?

_Rog._ Yes, forsooth.

_Bell._ Why dost not fill out their wine?

_Rog._ Forsooth, ’tis filled out already: all the wine that the signors have bestowed upon you is cast away; a porter ran a little at me, and so faced me down that I had not a drop.

_Bell._ I’m accursed to let such a withered artichoke-faced rascal grow under my nose: now you look like an old he-cat, going to the gallows: I’ll be hanged if he ha’ not put up the money to cony-catch[159] us all.

[159] Cheat.

_Rog._ No, truly, forsooth, ’tis not put up yet.

_Bell._ How many gentlemen hast thou served thus?

_Rog._ None but five hundred, besides prentices and serving-men.

_Bell._ Dost think I’ll pocket it up at thy hands?

_Rog._ Yes, forsooth, I fear you will pocket it up.

_Bell._ Fie, fie, cut my lace, good servant; I shall ha’ the mother[160] presently, I’m so vext at this horse-plumb.

[160] Hysterics.

_Flu._ Plague, not for a scald[161] pottle of wine!

[161] Paltry.

_Mat._ Nay, sweet Bellafront, for a little pig’s wash!

_Cas._ Here Roger, fetch more. [_Gives money._] A mischance, i’faith, acquaintance.

_Bell._ Out of my sight, thou ungodly puritanical creature.

_Rog._ For the t’other pottle? yes, forsooth.

_Bell._ Spill that too. [_Exit_ ROGER.] What gentleman is that, servant? your friend?

_Mat._ Gods so; a stool, a stool! If you love me mistress, entertain this gentleman respectively,[162] and bid him welcome.

[162] Respectfully.

_Bell._ He’s very welcome,--pray, sir, sit.

_Hip._ Thanks, lady.

_Flu._ Count Hippolito, is’t not? Cry you mercy signor; you walk here all this while, and we not heard you! Let me bestow a stool upon you, beseech you; you are a stranger here, we know the fashions a’th’ house.

_Cas._ Please you be here, my lord? [_Offers tobacco._

_Hip._ No, good Castruchio.

_Flu._ You have abandoned the Court, I see, my lord, since the death of your mistress; well, she was a delicate piece--Beseech you, sweet, come let us serve under the colours of your acquaintance still for all that--Please you to meet here at the lodging of my coz, I shall bestow a banquet upon you.

_Hip._ I never can deserve this kindness, sir. What may this lady be, whom you call coz?

_Flu._ Faith, sir, a poor gentlewoman, of passing good carriage; one that has some suits in law, and lies here in an attorney’s house.

_Hip._ Is she married?

_Flu._ Ha, as all your punks are, a captain’s wife, or so: never saw her before, my lord?

_Hip._ Never, trust me: a goodly creature!

_Flu._ By gad, when you know her as we do, you’ll swear she is the prettiest, kindest, sweetest, most bewitching honest ape under the pole. A skin, your satin is not more soft, nor lawn whiter.

_Hip._ Belike, then, she’s some sale courtesan.[163]

[163] _i.e._ For sale.

_Flu._ Troth, as all your best faces are, a good wench.

_Hip._ Great pity that she’s a good wench.

_Mat._ Thou shalt ha’, i’faith, mistress.--How now, signors? what, whispering? Did not I lay a wager I should take you, within seven days, in a house of vanity?

_Hip._ You did; and, I beshrew your heart, you’ve won.

_Mat._ How do you like my mistress?

_Hip._ Well, for such a mistress; better, if your mistress be not your master--I must break manners, gentlemen, fare you well.

_Mat._ ’Sfoot, you shall not leave us.

_Bell._ The gentleman likes not the taste of our company.

_Flu._, _Cas._, _&c._ Beseech you stay.

_Hip._ Trust me, my affairs beckon for me; pardon me.

_Mat._ Will you call for me half an hour hence here?

_Hip._ Perhaps I shall.

_Mat._ Perhaps? faugh! I know you can swear to me you will.

_Hip._ Since you will press me, on my word, I will. [_Exit._

_Bell._ What sullen picture is this, servant?

_Mat._ It’s Count Hippolito, the brave count.

_Pio._ As gallant a spirit as any in Milan, you sweet Jew.

_Flu._ Oh! he’s a most essential gentleman, coz.

_Cas._ Did you never hear of Count Hippolito, acquaintance?

_Bell._ Marry muff,[164] a’ your counts, and be no more life in ’em.

[164] See note, _ante_, p. 118.

_Mat._ He’s so malcontent! sirrah[165] Bellafront--An you be honest gallants, let’s sup together, and have the count with us:--thou shalt sit at the upper end, punk.[166]

[165] The term sirrah was applied often to women as well as to men.

[166] Prostitute.

_Bell._ Punk? you soused gurnet!

_Mat._ King’s truce: come, I’ll bestow the supper to have him but laugh.

_Cas._ He betrays his youth too grossly to that tyrant melancholy.

_Mat._ All this is for a woman.

_Bell._ A woman? some whore! what sweet jewel is’t?

_Pio._ Would she heard you!

_Flu._ Troth, so would I.

_Cas._ And I, by Heaven.

_Bell._ Nay, good servant, what woman?

_Mat._ Pah!

_Bell._ Prithee, tell me; a buss, and tell me: I warrant he’s an honest fellow, if he take on thus for a wench: good rogue, who?

_Mat._ By th’ Lord I will not, must not, faith’ mistress. Is’t a match, sirs? this night, at th’ Antelope: ay, for there’s best wine, and good boys.

_Flu._, _Cas._, _Pio._ It’s done; at th’ Antelope.

_Bell._ I cannot be there to night.

_Mat._ Cannot? by th’ Lord you shall.

_Bell._ By the Lady I will not: shall!

_Flu._ Why, then, put it off till Friday; wu’t come then, coz?

_Bell._ Well.

_Re-enter_ ROGER.

_Mat._ You’re the waspishest ape. Roger, put your mistress in mind to sup with us on Friday next. You’re best come like a madwoman, without a band, in your waistcoat, and the linings of your kirtle outward, like every common hackney that steals out at the back gate of her sweet knight’s lodging.

_Bell._ Go, go, hang yourself!

_Cas._ It’s dinner-time, Matheo; shall’s hence?

_All._ Yes, yes.--Farewell, wench.

_Bell._ Farewell, boys.--[_Exeunt all except_ BELLAFRONT _and_ ROGER.]--Roger, what wine sent they for?

_Rog._ Bastard wine,[167] for if it had been truly begotten, it would ha’ been ashamed to come in. Here’s six shillings to pay for nursing the bastard.

[167] A sweet Spanish wine.

_Bell._ A company of rooks! O good sweet Roger, run to the poulter’s, and buy me some fine larks!

_Rog._ No woodcocks?[168]

[168] Simpletons.

_Bell._ Yes, faith, a couple, if they be not dear.

_Rog._ I’ll buy but one, there’s one already here. [_Exit._

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

_Hip._ Is the gentleman, my friend, departed, mistress?

_Bell._ His back is but new turned, sir.

_Hip._ Fare you well.

_Bell._ I can direct you to him.

_Hip._ Can you, pray?

_Bell._ If you please, stay, he’ll not be absent long.

_Hip._ I care not much.

_Bell._ Pray sit, forsooth.

_Hip._ I’m hot. [_Lays aside his sword._ If I may use your room, I’ll rather walk.

_Bell._ At your best pleasure--whew--some rubbers there!

_Hip._ Indeed, I’ll none:--indeed I will not: thanks. Pretty fine lodging. I perceive my friend Is old in your acquaintance.

_Bell._ Troth, sir, he comes As other gentlemen, to spend spare hours If yourself like our roof, such as it is, Your own acquaintance may be as old as his.

_Hip._ Say I did like; what welcome should I find?

_Bell._ Such as my present fortunes can afford.

_Hip._ But would you let me play Matheo’s part?

_Bell._ What part?

_Hip._ Why, embrace you: dally with you, kiss: Faith, tell me, will you leave him and love me?

_Bell._ I am in bonds to no man, sir.