book v

., chap. 1.

[265] Omitted in ed. 2.

[266] So ed. 2.--Eds. 1. and 3. "see" and "seek."

[267] "Gern" = snarl.

[268] Eds. 1. and 3. "thumbes."

[269] Eds. 1. and 3. "miserable."

[270] Quy. "'fined" (= refined)?

[271] Eds. 1. and 3. "engines."

[272] Eds. 1. and 3. "messenger."

[273] Eds. 1. and 3. "effect."

## ACT V.

## SCENE I.

_Courtyard of the Palace._

_Whilst the Act is a-playing_, HERCULES _and_ TIBERIO _enters_; TIBERIO _climbs the tree, and is received above by_ DULCIMEL, PHILOCALIA, _and a Priest_: HERCULES _stays beneath_.

_Herc._ Thou mother of chaste dew, night's modest lamp, Thou by whose faint shine the blushing lovers Join glowing cheeks, and mix their trembling lips In vows well kiss'd, rise all as full of splendour As my breast is of joy! You genital, You fruitful well-mix'd heats, O, bless the sheets Of yonder chamber, that Ferrara's dukedom, The race of princely issue, be not curs'd, And ended in abhorrèd barrenness! At length kill all my fears, nor let it rest 10 Once more my tremblings that my too cold son (That ever-scorner of humaner loves) Will still contemn the sweets of marriage, Still kill[274] our hope of name in his dull coldness. Let it be lawful to make use, ye powers,[275] Of human weakness, that pursueth still What is inhibited, and most affects What is most difficult to be obtain'd: So we may learn, that nicer love's a shade-- It follows fled, pursued flies as afraid: 20 And in the end close all the various errors Of passages most truly comical In moral learning with like confidence Of him that vow'd good fortune of the scene Shall neither make him fat, or bad make lean.

_Enter_ DONDOLO _laughing_.

_Don._ Ha, ha, ha!

_Herc._ Why dost laugh, fool, here's nobody with thee?

_Don._ Why, therefore do I laugh, because there's nobody with me. Would I were a fool alone! I'faith, I am come to attend--let me go,--I am sent to the princess, to come and attend her father to the end of Cupid's Parliament. 32

_Herc._ Why, ha' they sat already upon any statutes?

_Don._ Sat? ay, all's agreed in the nether house!

_Herc._ Why, are they divided?

_Don._ O ay, in Cupid's Parliament all the young gallants are o' the nether house, and all the old signiors that can but only kiss are of the upper house. Is the princess above?

_Herc._ No, sure; I think the princess is beneath, man. Ha' they supp'd, fool? 41

_Don._ O yes, the confusion of tongues at the large table is broke up, for see the presence fills. A fool, a fool, a fool, my coxcomb for a fool!

_Enter_ SIR AMOROUS, HEROD, NYMPHADORO, GARBETZA, DONNETTA, _and_ POVEIA.

_Herod._ Stop, ass; what's matter, idiot?

_Don._ O gallants, my fools that were appointed to wait on Don Cupid have launch'd out their ship to purge their stomachs on the water, and before Jupiter, I fear they will prove defective in their attendance. 49

_Herod._ Pish, fool, they'll float in with the next tide.

_Don._ Ay, but when's that? Let's see mine almanack or prognostication.

_Sir Amor._ What, is this for this year?

_Don._ In true wisdom, sir, it is. Let me see the moon, 'fore pity 'tis in the wayne. What grief is this, that so great a planet should ever decline or lose splendour! Full sea at----

_Sir Amor._ Where's the sign now, fool?

_Don._ In Capricorn, Sir Amoroso.

_Gar._ What strange thing does this almanack speak of, fool? 61

_Don._ Is this your lady, Sir Amorous?

_Sir Amor._ It is; kiss her, fool.

_Herod._ You may kiss her now, she is married.

_Sir Amor._ So he might ha' done before.

_Don._ In sober modesty, sir, I do not use to do it behind.

_Herod._ Good fool, be acquainted with this lady too; she's of a very honest nature, I assure thee.

_Don._ I easily believe you, sir, for she hath a very vile[276] face, I assure you. 70

_Gar._ But what strange things does thy almanack speak of, good fool?

_Don._ That this year no child shall be begotten but shall have a true father.

_Sir Amor._ That's good news, i'faith. I am glad I got my wife with child this year.

_Herc._ Why, Sir Amorous, this may be, and yet you not the true father--may it not, Herod?

_Gar._ But what more says it, good Fawn? 79

_Herod._ Faith, lady, very strange things! It says that some ladies of your hair shall have feeble hams, short memories, and very weak eyesight, so that they shall mistake their own page, or even brother-in-law, sometimes for their husbands.

_Sir Amor._ Is that all, Fawn?

_Herc._ No, Sir Amorous; here's likewise prophesied a great scarcity of gentry to ensue, so that some bores shall be dubbed Sir Amoroso. A great scarcity of lawyers is likewise this year to ensue, so that some one of them shall be entreated to take fees o' both sides. 90

_Enter_ DON ZUCCONE, _following_ DONNA ZOYA _on his knees_.

_Zuc._ Most dear, dear lady! Wife, lady, wife! O do not but look on me, and ha' some mercy!

_Zoy._ I will ha' no mercy!--I will not relent!

_Zuc._ Sweet lady!

_Zoy._ The order shall stand; I am separated, and I will be separated!

_Zuc._ Dear! my love! wife!

_Zoy._ Hence, fellow! I am none of thy wife! No, I will be tyrannous and a most deep revenger. The order shall stand! I will marry a fellow that keeps a fox in his bosom, a goat under his armholes, and a polecat in his mouth, rather than reaccept thee. 102

_Zuc._ Alas! by the Lord, lady, what should I say? As Heaven shall bless me--what should I say?

_Herod._ Kneel and cry, man!

_Zoy._ Was I not handsome, generous, honest enough from my foot to my feather, for such a fellow as thou art?

_Zuc._ Alas! I confess--I confess!

_Zoy._ But go thy ways, and wive with whom thou wilt, for my part. Thou hast spun a fair thread. Who'll kiss thee now? who'll court thee now? who'll ha' thee now? 113

_Zuc._ Yet be a woman; and, for God's sake, help me!

_Herod._ And do not stand too stiffly.

_Zuc._ And do not stand too stiffly! Do you make an ass of me? But let these rascals laugh at me. Alas! what[277] could I do withal? 'twas my destiny that I should abuse you! 120

_Zoy._ So it is your destiny that I should thus revenge your abuse. No, the Irishman shall hate _aqua vitæ_, the Welshman cheese, and the Dutchman salt butter, before I'll love or receive thee. Does he cry? does the babe pule? 'Tis too late now--thou shouldst ha' cried before--'tis too late now. Go, bury thy head in silence; and let oblivion be thy utmost hope.

[_The Courtiers address themselves to dancing, whilst the Duke enters with_ GRANUFFO, _and takes his state_.[278]

_Herc._ Gallants, to dancing. Loud music, the duke's upon entrance!

_Gon._ Are the sports ready? 130

_Herc._ Ready.

_Gon._ 'Tis enough. Of whose invention is this parliament?

_Herc._ Ours.

_Gon._ 'Tis enough. This night we will exult! O let this night Be ever memorised with prouder triumphs-- Let it be writ in lasting character That this night our great wisdom did discover So close a practice--that this night, I say, 140 Our policy found out, nay, dash'd the drifts Of the young prince, and put him to his shifts, Nay, past his shifts ('fore Jove! we could make a good poet).-- Delight us. On! we deign our princely ear-- We are well pleased to grace you;[279] then scorn fear.

[_Cornets playing._ DRUNKENNESS, SLOTH, PRIDE, _and_ PLENTY _lead_ CUPID _to his state, who is followed by_ FOLLY, WAR, BEGGARY, _and_ SLAUGHTER.[280]

Stand, 'tis wisdom to acknowledge ignorance Of what we know not; we would not now prove foolish. Expound the meaning of your show.

_Herc._ Triumphant Cupid, that sleeps on the soft cheek Of rarest beauty, whose throne's in ladies' eyes;-- 150 Who[281] forced writhed lightning from Jove's shaking hand, Forced strong Alcides to resign his club, Pluck'd Neptune's trident from his mighty arm, Unhelmèd Mars;--he (with those trophies borne, Led in by Sloth, Pride, Plenty, Drunkenness, Follow'd by Folly, War, Slaughter,[282] Beggary) Takes his fair throne. Sit pleased; for now we move, And speak not for our glory but for love.

[HERCULES _takes a bowl of wine_.

_Gon._ A pretty figure. What, begins this session with ceremony? 160

_Herc._ With a full health to our great mistress, Venus, Let every state of Cupid's parliament Begin the session, _et quod bonum faustumque sit precor_.

[HERCULES _drinks a health_.

_Gon._ Give't us; we'll pledge: nor shall a man that lives, In charity refuse it. I will not be so old As not be graced to honour Cupid. Give't us full. When we were young we could ha' troll'd it off, Drunk down a Dutchman.

_Herc._ 'Tis lamentable; pity your grace has forgot it. Drunkenness! O 'tis a most fluent and swelling virtue; sure the most just of all virtues: 'tis justice itself; for, if it chance to oppress and take too much, it presently restores it again. It makes the king and the peasant equal; for, if they are both drunk alike, they are both beasts alike. As for that most precious light of heaven--Truth--if Time be the father of her, I am sure Drunkenness is oftentimes the mother of her, and brings her forth. Drunkenness brings all out, for it brings all the drink out of the pot, all the wit out of the pate, and all the money out of the purse. 180

_Gon._ My Lord Granuffo, this Fawn is an excellent fellow.

_Don._ Silence.

_Gon._ I warrant you for my lord here.

_Cup._ Since multitude of laws are signs either of much tyranny in the prince or much rebellious disobedience in the subject, we rather think it fit to study how to have our old laws thoroughly executed, than to have new statutes cumbrously invented.

_Gon._ Afore Jove, he speaks very well. 190

_Herc._ O, sir, Love is very eloquent, makes all men good orators: himself then must needs be eloquent.

_Cup._ Let it therefore be the main of our assembly to survey our old laws, and punish their transgressions; for that continually the complaints of lovers ascend up to our deity, that love is abused, and basely bought and sold, beauty['s] corrupted, affection feign'd, and pleasure herself sophisticated; that young gallants are proud in appetite and weak in performance; that young ladies are phantastically inconstant,--old ladies impudently unsatiate,--wives complain of unmarried women, that they steal the dues belonging to their sheets,--and maids exclaim upon wives, that they unjustly engross all into their own hands, as not content with their own husbands, but also purloining that which should be their comfort. Let us therefore be severe in our justice; and if any, of what degree soever, have approvedly offended, let him be instantly unpartially arrested and punished. Read our statutes. 209

_Herc._ _A statute made in the five thousand four hundred threescore and three year of the easeful reign of the mighty potent Don Cupid, emperor[283] of sighs and protestations, great king of kisses, archduke of dalliance, and sole loved of her,[284] for the maintaining and relieving of his old soldiers, maim'd or dismember'd in love._

_Don._ Those that are lightly hurt, shame to complain; those that are deeply struck are past recovery.

_Cup._ On to the next.

_Herc._ _An act against the plurality of mistresses._

_Cup._ Read. 220

_Herc._ _Whereas some over amorous and unconscionable covetous young gallants, without all grace of Venus, or the fear of Cupid in their minds, have at one time engrossed the care or cures of divers mistresses, with the charge of ladies, into their own tenure or occupation,[285] whereby their mistresses must of necessity be very ill and insufficiently served, and likewise many able portly gallants live unfurnished of competent entertainment, to the merit of their bodies; and whereas likewise some other greedy strangers have taken in the purlieus, outset land, and the ancient commons of our sovereign liege Don Cupid, taking in his very highways, and enclosing them, and annexing them to their own lordships, to the much impoverishing and putting of divers of Cupid's true hearts and loyal subjects to base and abhominable[286] shifts: Be it therefore enacted, by the sovereign authority and erected ensign of Don Cupid, with the assent of some of the lords, most of the ladies, and all the commons, that what person or persons soever shall, in the trade of honour, presume to wear at one time two ladies' favours, or at one time shall earnestly court two women in the way of marriage, or if any under the degree of a duke shall keep above twenty women of pleasure, a duke's brother fifteen, a lord ten, a knight or a pensioner or both four, a gentleman two, shall_ ipso facto _be arrested by folly's mace, and instantly committed to the ship of fools, without either bail or main prize_, Millesimo centesimo quingentesimo quadragesimo nono Cupidinis semper unius.--Nymphadoro, to the bar! 248

_Nym._ Shame o' folly, will Fawn now turn an informer? Does he laugh at me?

_Herc._ Domina Garbetza, did he not ever protest you were his most only elected mistress?

_Gar._ He did.

_Herc._ Domina Donella, did he not ever protest, you were his most only elected mistress?

_Don._ He did.

_Herc._ Domina Poveia, did he not ever protest, that you were his most only elected mistress?

_Pov._ He did.

_Nym._ Mercy! 260

_Cup._ Our mercy is nothing, unless some lady will beg thee.

_Ladies._ Out upon him, dissembling, perfidious liar!

_Herc._ Indeed 'tis no reason ladies should beg liars.

_Nym._ Thus he that loveth many, if once known, Is justly plagued to be belov'd of none.

[_Exit._

_Herc._ _An act against counterfeiting of Cupid's royal coin, and abusing his subjects with false money._--To the bar, Sir Amorous!--_In most lamentable form complaineth to your blind celsitude your distressed orators, the women of the world, that in respect that many spendthrifts, who having exhausted and wasted their substance, and in stranger parts have with empty shows, treasonably purchased ladies' affections, without being of ability to pay them for it with current money, and therefore have deceitfully sought to satisfy them with counterfeit metal, to the great displeasure and no small loss of your humblest subjects: may it therefore with your pitiful assent be enacted, that what lord, knight, or gentleman soever, knowing himself insufficient, bankrout, exhausted, and wasted, shall traitorously dare to entertain any lady, as wife or mistress_, ipso facto _to be severed from all commercement with women, his wife or mistress in that state offending to be forgiven with a pardon of course, and himself instantly to be pressed to sail in the ship of fools, without either bail or main-prize_.--Sir Amorous is arrested. 286

_Sir Amor._[287] Judgment of the court.

_Herc._ I take my oath upon thy brother's body, 'tis none of thine.

_Sir Amor._ By the heart of dissemblance, this Fawn has wrought with us as strange tailors work in corporate cities, where they are not free; all inward, inward he lurk'd in the bosom of us, and yet we know not his profession. Sir, let me have counsel?

_Herc._ 'Tis[288] in great Cupid's case; you may have no counsel. 296

_Sir Amor._ Death[289] o' justice! are we in Normandy? What is my lady's doom then?

_Cup._ Acquitted by the express parole of the statute. Hence, and in thy ignorance be quietly happy. Away with him--on!

_Herc._ _An act against forgers of love-letters, false braggarts of ladies' favours, and vain boasters of counterfeit tokens._

_Herod._ 'Tis I, 'tis I! I confess guilty, guilty! 305

_Herc._ I will be most humane and right courteously languaged in thy correction, and only say, thy vice, from apparent here, has made thee an apparent beggar, and now of a false knave hath made thee a true fool. Folly to the ship with him, and twice a day let him be duck'd at the main-yard.

_Cup._ Proceed! 312

_Herc._ _An act against slanderers of Cupid's liege ladies' names, and lewd defamers of their honours._

_Zuc._ 'Tis I, 'tis I! I weep and cry out, I have been a most contumelious offender. My only cry is _Miserere!_

_Cup._ If your relenting lady will have pity on you, The fault against our deity be pardoned.

_Zuc._ Madam, if ever I have found favour in your eyes, if ever you have thought me a reasonable handsome fellow, as I am sure before I had a beard you might, O be merciful! 322

_Zoy._ Well, upon your apparent repentance, that all modest spectators may witness I have for a short time only thus feignedly hated you that you might ever after truly love me, upon these cautions I reaccept you; first you shall vow----

_Zuc._ I do vow, as Heaven bless me, I will do!

_Zoy._ What?

_Zuc._ Whate'er it be; say on, I beseech you. 330

_Zoy._ You shall vow----

_Zuc._ Yes.

_Zoy._ That you shall never----

_Zuc._ Never----

_Zoy._ Feign love to my waiting-woman or chamber-maid.

_Zuc._ No.

_Zoy._ Never promise them such a farm to their marriage----

_Zuc._ No.

_Zoy._ If she'll discover but whom I affect. 340

_Zuc._ Never.

_Zoy._ Or if they know none, that they'll but take a false oath I do, only to be rid of me.

_Zuc._ I swear I will not; I will not only not counterfeitly love your women, but I will truly hate them; an't be possible, so far from maintaining them, that I will beggar them. I will never pick their trunks for letters, search their pockets, ruffle their bosoms, or tear their foul smocks;--never! never!

_Zoy._ That if I chance to have a humour to be in a masque, you shall not grow jealous. 351

_Zuc._ Never.

_Zoy._ Or grudge at the expense.

_Zuc._ Never! I will eat mine own arms first.

_Zoy._ That you shall not search, if my chamber-door hinges be oil'd to avoid creaking.

_Zuc._ As I am a sensible creature.

_Zoy._ Nor ever suspect the reason why my bedchamber floor is double-matted.

_Zuc._ Not, as I have blood in me. 360

_Zoy._ You shall vow to wear clean linen, and feed wholesomely.

_Zuc._ Ay, and highly. I will take no more tobacco, or come to your sheets drunk, or get wenches. I will ever feed on fried frogs, broil'd[290] snails, and boil'd lamb-stones;--I will adore thee more than a mortal,--observe and serve you as more than a mistress,--do all duties of a husband,--all offices of a man,--all services of thy creature,--and ever live in thy pleasure, or die in thy service. 370

_Zoy._ Then here my quarrel ends; thus cease all strife.

_Zuc._ Until they lose, men know not what's a wife. We slight and dully view the lamp of heaven, Because we daily see't, which but bereaved, And held one little week from darken'd eyes, With greedy wonder we should all admire; Opinion[291] of command puts out love's fire.

_Herc._ _An act against mummers, false seemers, that abuse ladies with counterfeit faces, courting only by signs, and seeming wise only by silence._ 380

_Cup._ The penalty?

_Herc._ To be urged to speak, and then, if inward ability answer not outward seeming, to be committed instantly to the ship of fools during great Cupid's pleasure.--My Lord Granuffo, to the bar! Speak, speak; is not this law just?

_Gra._ Just, sure; for in good truth or in good sooth, When wise men speak, they still must open their mouth.

_Herc._ The brazen head has spoken.

_Don._ Thou art arrested.

_Gra._ Me?

_Herc._ And judg'd: away!

[_Exit_ GRANUFFO.

_Gon._ Thus silence, with grave looks, with hums and haws, 391 Makes many worshipp'd, when if tried they're daws; That's the morality or _l'envoy_ of it-- _L'envoy_ of it. On.

_Herc._ _An act against privy conspiracies, by which, if any with ambitions wisdom shall hope and strive to outstrip Love, to cross his words, and make frustrate his sweet pleasure,--if such a presumptuous wisdom fall to nothing, and die in laughter, the wizard so transgressing is_ ipso facto _adjudged to offend in most deep treason, to forfeit all his wit at the will of the lord, and be instantly committed to the ship of fools for ever_. 401

_Gon._ Ay, marry, sir! O might OEdipus riddle me out such a fellow! Of all creatures breathing, I do hate those things that struggle to seem wise, and yet are indeed very fools. I remember, when I was a young man, in my father's days, there were four gallant spirits, for resolution, as proper for body, as witty in discourse, as any were in Europe, nay, Europe had not such; I was one of them. We four did all love one lady,--a modest, chaste virgin she was; we all enjoy'd her, I well remember, and so enjoy'd her that, despite the strictest guard was set upon her, we had her at our pleasure: I speak it for her honour and my credit. Where shall you find such witty fellows nowadays? Alas! how easy it is, in these weaker times, to cross love-tricks. Ha! ha! ha! Alas! I smile to think I must confess, with some glory[292] to mine own wisdom, to think how I found out, and crossed, and curb'd, and jerk'd, and firk'd, and in the end made desperate Tiberio's hope. Alas! good silly youth, that dares to cope with age and such a beard. I speak it without glory. 421

_Herc._ But what yet might your well-known wisdom think, If such a one, as being most severe, A most protested opposite to the match Of two young lovers,--who having barr'd them speech, All interviews, all messages, all means, To plot their wishèd ends,--even he himself Was, by their cunning, made the go-between, The only messenger, the token-carrier, Told them the times when they might fitly meet, 430 Nay, show'd the way to one another's bed?

_Gon._ May one have the sight of such a fellow for nothing? Doth there breathe such an egregious ass? Is there such a foolish animal in _rerum natura_? How is it possible such simplicity can exist? Let us not lose our laughing at him, for God's sake! Let Folly's sceptre light upon him, and to the ship of fools with him instantly!

_Don._ Of all these follies I arrest your grace.

_Gon._ Me? ha! me? me, varlet? me, fool? Ha! to th' jail with him! What, varlet? call me ass?--me?

_Herc._ What! grave Urbin's duke? 441 Dares Folly's sceptre touch his prudent shoulders? Is he a coxcomb? No, my lord is wise; For we all know that Urbin's duke has eyes.

_Gon._ God ha' mercy, Fawn! Hold fast, varlet! Hold thee, good Fawn!--railing reprobate!

_Herc._ Indeed, I must confess your grace did tell And first did intimate your daughter's love To otherwise most cold Tiberio; After convey'd her private favour to him, 450 A curious scarf, wherein her needle wrought Her private love to him.

_Gon._ What! I do this? Ha!

_Herc._ And last, by her persuasion, show'd the youth The very way and best-elected time To come unto her chamber.

_Gon._ Thus did I, sir?

_Herc._ Thus did you, sir; but I must confess You meant not to do this, but were rankly gull'd-- Made a plain natural. This sure, sir, you did. And in assurance, Prince Tiberio, Renowned, witted Dulcimel, appear! 460 The acts of constant honour cannot fear.

[_Exit_ HERCULES.

TIBERIO _and_ DULCIMEL _above, are discovered hand in hand_.

_Dul._ Royally wise and wisely royal father----

_Don._ That's sententious now--a figure call'd in art Ironia.

_Dul._ I humbly thank your worthy piety That through your only means I have obtained So fit, [so] loving, and desired a husband.

_Gon._ Death o' discretion! if I should prove a fool now. Am not I an ass, think you, ha? I will have them both bound together, and sent to the Duke of Ferrara presently. 471

_Tib._ I am sure, good father, we are both bound together as fast as the priest can make us already. I thank you for it, kind father; I thank you only for't.

HERCULES _enters in his own shape_.

_Herc._ And as for sending them to the Duke of Ferrara, see, my good lord, Ferrara's o'erjoy'd prince meets thee in fullest wish.

_Gon._ By the Lord! I am ashamed of myself, that's the plain troth; but I know now wherefore this parliament[293] was. What a slumber have I been in! 480

_Herc._ Never grieve nor wonder--all things sweetly fit.

_Gon._ There is no folly to protested wit.

_Herc._ What still in wond'ring ignorance doth rest, In private conference your dear-lov'd breast Shall fully take.--But now we change our face.

EPILOGUS.

And thus, in bold yet modest phrase we end. He whose Thalia with swiftest hand hath penn'd This lighter subject, and hath boldly torn Fresh bays from Daphne's arm, doth only scorn Malicious censures of some envious few, 490 Who think they lose if others have their due: But let such adders hiss; know, all the sting, All the vain foam of all those snakes that ring Minerva's glassful shield, can never taint, Poison, or pierce; firm art disdains to faint:-- But yet of you that with impartial faces, With no preparèd malice, but with graces Of sober knowledge, have survey'd the frame Of his slight scene, if you shall judge his flame Distemperately weak, as faulty much 500 In style, in plot, in spirit; lo! if such, He deigns, in self-accusing phrase, to crave Not[294] praise, but pardon, which he hopes to have; Since he protests he ever hath aspired To be belovèd rather than admired.

[_Exeunt omnes._

[274] Ed. 1. "till."

[275] Ed. 1. "sowers."

[276] Eds. 1. and 3. "good."

[277] "What could I do withal?" = how could I help it?

[278] Throne, chair of state.

[279] Eds. 1. and 3. "him."

[280] Ed. 2. "Laughter."

[281] Old eds. "Whose force writh'd."

[282] Old eds. "Laughter."

[283] Compare Biron's famous soliloquy in _Love's Labour Lost_, iii. 1.

[284] Ed. 2. "him."--Neither reading is intelligible.

[285] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Gloss._, s. OCCUPY.

[286] The old form of spelling (ridiculed in _Love's Labour Lost_) from the erroneous derivation _ab homine_.

[287] Eds. 1. and 3. "_Don. Amor._ Sir Judgement of the countrie."

[288] Ed. 1. "'Tis in great case."--Ed. 3. "'Tis in a great case."

[289] Eds. 1. and 3. "_Sir_ death," &c.

[290] Eds. 1. and 3. "wild."

[291] Ed. 1. "And prowde hayht."--Ed. 3. "And proud height."

[292] Boasting.

[293] Omitted in eds. 1. and 3.

[294] Old eds. "For praise."

THE WONDER OF WOMEN;

OR,

THE TRAGEDY OF

SOPHONISBA.

_The Wonder of Women Or The Tragedie of Sophonisba, as it hath beene sundry times Acted at the Blacke Friers. Written by Iohn Marston. London. Printed by Iohn Windet and are to be sold neere Ludgate._ 1606. 4to.

STORY OF THE PLAY.

Syphax and Massinissa, princes of Libya, are rivals for the hand of Sophonisba, daughter of Asdrubal, a powerful Carthaginian nobleman. Massinissa's suit is accepted; whereupon Syphax enters into a league with Scipio, who is advancing against Carthage. On Sophonisba's marriage-night news is brought that the Carthaginian forces stationed at Utica have been defeated by the united armies of Scipio and Syphax. Massinissa is ordered by the senate to march without delay against the enemy; he loyally obeys the command, and takes leave of his virgin-wife. While he is serving Carthage in the field, the Carthaginian senators at home proceed to plot against his life. They determine to gain Syphax to their side by giving him Sophonisba to wife; and Gisco, a physician and skilful empoisoner, is sent to the Carthaginian camp to despatch Massinissa. Among the senators there is an honest old man, Gelosso, who disguises himself, follows Gisco to the camp, and hands Massinissa a letter containing a disclosure of the plot. Massinissa has no sooner dismissed the empoisoner (whom he scorns to punish) than Jugurth, Massinissa's nephew, enters, to announce that Syphax has been seen riding in the direction of Cirta, and that his horsemen are coming at a leisurely pace towards the camp as if to fraternise with Massinissa's forces. By advice of Gelosso, who lays aside his disguise, Massinissa scatters the horsemen by a sudden onslaught, and hastens to make a league with Scipio. Meanwhile Sophonisba has been sent by the Carthaginian senators to the palace of Syphax at Cirta. She escapes by a subterranean passage that led from the palace to a forest, but through the treachery of her attendant, Zanthia, falls again into the hands of Syphax. In despair of effecting his purpose by persuasion, Syphax applies for help to a powerful enchantress, Erictho, who engages to force Sophonisba by magic to his arms, on condition that he shall speak no word, and have no lights burning, while he embraces her. On the appointed night Syphax discovers to his horror that his embraces have been given to Erictho. While he is cursing his fortunes, a messenger arrives to announce that Scipio and Massinissa are advancing against Cirta. He marches out to meet them; the troops on either side withdraw, while Syphax and Massinissa engage in single combat; Massinissa vanquishes his opponent, but spares his life on receiving assurance that Sophonisba has not suffered outrage. Leaving his prisoner in Scipio's hands, Massinissa hastens to Cirta. He enters the palace with his beaver down, unrecognised by Sophonisba, who throws herself at his feet, and implores him to save her from falling into the hands of the Romans, or grant her instant death. Pledging his oath that he will protect her, he doffs his helmet. The joyful reunion is presently interrupted by the entrance of the Roman general, Lælius, who orders Massinissa to deliver Sophonisba into Scipio's custody (Syphax having represented to Scipio that Sophonisba would quickly induce Massinissa to revolt from Rome). Lælius departs with Massinissa's assurance that the command shall be obeyed. Massinissa is distracted; he must either break the oath that he had pledged to Sophonisba, or he must be faithless in the allegiance that he had sworn to Rome. Sophonisba's heroism rescues him from his dilemma. She declares her willingness to die; he infuses poison in a bowl of wine, and the dauntless woman drinks, speaking words of comfort to her husband as the poison courses through her veins. The lifeless body, laid on a bier, is presented to Scipio by Massinissa.

_TO THE GENERAL READER._

Know that I have not laboured in this poem to tie myself to relate anything as an historian, but to enlarge everything as a poet. To transcribe authors, quote authorities, and translate Latin prose orations into English blank verse, hath, in this subject, been the least aim of my studies.[295] Then (equal reader) peruse me with no prepared dislike; and, if ought shall displease thee, thank thyself; if ought shall please thee, thank not me: for I confess in this it was not my only end.

_ARGUMENTUM._

A grateful heart's just height; ingratitude, And vow's base breach with worthy shame pursued; A woman's constant love, as firm as fate; A blameless counsellor well born for state; The folly to enforce free love: these, know, This subject with full light doth amply show.

[295] Marston is evidently glancing at Ben Jonson's _Sejanus_, which had been published in the previous year (1605).]

_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._

MASSINISSA, } SYPHAX, } _Kings of Libya, rivals for_ SOPHONISBA. ASDRUBAL, _father to_ SOPHONISBA. GELOSSO, _a senator of Carthage_. BYTHEAS, _a senator of Carthage_. HANNO MAGNUS, _Captain of Carthage_. JUGURTH, MASSINISSA'S _nephew_. SCIPIO, } LÆLIUS, } _Generals of Rome_. VANGUE, _an Æthiopian slave_. CARTHALON, _a senator of Carthage_. GISCO, _a surgeon of Carthage_. NUNTIUS.

SOPHONISBA, _daughter to_ ASDRUBAL _of Carthage_. ZANTHIA, _her maid_. ERICTHO, _an enchantress_. ARCATHIA, } NYCEA, } _waiting-women to_ SOPHONISBA.

SCENE--CIRTA, CARTHAGE, &c.

PROLOGUS.

_Cornets sounding a march._

_Enter at one door the_ PROLOGUE, _two Pages with torches_, ASDRUBAL _and_ JUGURTH, _two Pages with lights_, MASSINISSA _leading_ SOPHONISBA, ZANTHIA _bearing_ SOPHONISBA'S _train_, ARCATHIA _and_ NYCEA, HANNO _and_ BYTHEAS: _at the other door two Pages with targets and javelins, two Pages with lights_, SYPHAX _arm'd from top to toe, followed by_ VANGUE.

_These, thus enter'd, stand still, whilst the_ PROLOGUE, _resting between both troops, speaks_.

The scene is Libya, and the subject thus: Whilst Carthage stood the only awe of Rome, As most imperial seat of Libya, Govern'd by statesmen, each as great as kings (For seventeen kings were Carthage feodars); Whilst thus she flourish'd, whilst her Hannibal Made Rome to tremble, and the walls yet pale: Then in this Carthage Sophonisba lived, The far-famed daughter of great Asdrubal: For whom ('mongst others) potent Syphax sues, 10 And well-graced Massinissa rivals him, Both princes of proud sceptres: but the lot Of doubtful favour Massinissa graced, At which Syphax grows black: for now the night Yields loud resoundings of the nuptial pomp: Apollo strikes his harp, Hymen his torch; Whilst louring Juno, with ill-boding eye, Sits envious at too forward Venus. Lo, The instant night: and now ye worthier minds, To whom we shall present a female glory 20 (The wonder of a constancy so fix'd, That fate itself might well grow envious): Be pleased to sit,[296] such as may merit oil, And holy dew, still'd from diviner heat. For rest thus knowing: what of this you hear, The author lowly hopes, but must not fear: For just worth never rests on popular frown, To have done well is fair deeds' only crown.

_Nec se quæsiverit extra._

_Cornets sound a march._

_The_ PROLOGUE _leads_ MASSINISSA'S _troops over the stage, and departs_: SYPHAX' _troops only stay_.

[296] Quy. "see't."

THE TRAGEDY OF SOPHONISBA.

## ACT I.

## SCENE I.

_The palace of Syphax at Cirta._

SYPHAX _and_ VANGUE.

_Sy._ Syphax, Syphax! why wast thou cursed a king? What angry god made thee so great, so vile? Contemn'd, disgracèd! think, wert thou a slave, Though Sophonisba did reject thy love, Thy low neglected head, unpointed at, Thy shame unrumour'd, and thy suit unscoff'd, Might yet rest quiet. Reputation, Thou awe of fools and great men; thou that chok'st Freest addictions, and makest mortals sweat Blood and cold drops in fear to lose, or hope 10 To gain, thy never-certain seldom-worthy gracings; Reputation, Were't not for thee, Syphax could bear this scorn, Not spouting up his gall among his blood In black vexations: Massinissa might Enjoy the sweets of his preferrèd graces Without my dangerous envy or revenge; Were't not for thy affliction, all might sleep In sweet oblivion: but (O greatness' scourge!) We cannot without envy keep high name, 20 Nor yet disgraced can have a quiet shame.

_Van._ Scipio----

_Sy._ Some light in depth of hell. Vangue, what hope?

_Van._ I have received assured intelligence, That Scipio, Rome's sole hope, hath raised up men, Drawn troops together for invasion----

_Sy._ Of this same Carthage?

_Van._ With this policy, To force wild Hannibal from Italy----

_Sy._ And draw the war to Afric?

_Van._ Right.

_Sy._ And strike This secure country with unthought of arms? 30

_Van._ My letters bear he is departed Rome, Directly setting course and sailing up----

_Sy._ To Carthage, Carthage! O thou eternal youth, Man of large fame, great and abounding glory, Renownful Scipio, spread thy two-necked eagles, Fill full thy sails with a revenging wind, Strike through obedient Neptune, till thy prows[297] Dash up our Libyan ooze,[298] and thy just arms Shine with amazeful terror on these walls! O now record thy father's[299] honour'd blood 40 Which Carthage drunk; thy uncle Publius'[300] blood Which Carthage drunk; thirty thousand souls Of choice Italians Carthage set on wing: Remember Hannibal, yet Hannibal, The consul-queller: O then enlarge thy heart, Be thousand souls in one! let all the breath, The spirit of thy name and nation, be mix'd strong In thy great heart! O fall like thunder-shaft, The wingèd vengeance of incensèd Jove, Upon this Carthage! for Syphax here flies off 50 From all allegiance, from all love or service, His (now free'd) sceptre once did yield this city. Ye universal gods, light, heat, and air, Prove all unblessing Syphax, if his hands Once rear themselves for Carthage but to curse it! It had been better they had changed their faith, Denied their gods, than slighted Syphax' love; So fearfully will I take vengeance. I'll interleague with Scipio.--Vangue, Dear Ethiopian negro, go wing a vessel, 60 And fly to Scipio: say his confederate, Vow'd and confirm'd, is Syphax: bid him haste To mix our palms and arms; will him make up, Whilst we are in the strength of discontent, Our unsuspected forces well in arms; For Sophonisba, Carthage, Asdrubal, Shall feel their weakness in preferring weakness, And one less great than we. To our dear wishes, Haste, gentle negro, that this heap may know Me and their wrong. 70

_Van._ Wrong?

_Sy._ Ay, tho' 'twere not; yet know, while kings are strong, What they'll but think, and not what is, is wrong. I am disgraced in and by that which hath No reason,--love, and woman; my revenge Shall therefore bear no argument of right; Passion is reason when it speaks from might. I tell thee, man, nor kings nor gods exempt, But they grow pale if once they find contempt. Haste! 80

[_Exeunt._

[297] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. (_i.e._ 8vo of 1633) "powers."

[298] Ed. 1. reads "ouse," which becomes "house" in ed. 2.

[299] Cn. Scipio, who fell fighting in Spain, B.C. 212. See Livy, xxv. 36.

[300] See Livy, xxv. 34.

## SCENE II.

SOPHONISBA'S _bedchamber_.

_Enter_ ARCATHIA; NYCEA, _with tapers_; SOPHONISBA, _in her night attire, followed by_ ZANTHIA.

_So._ Watch at the doors: and till we be reposed Let no one enter. Zanthia, undo me.

_Zan._ With this motto under your girdle: _You had been undone if you had not been undone_. Humblest service!

_So._ I wonder, Zanthia, why the custom is, To use such ceremony, such strict shape, About us women: forsooth the bride must steal Before her lord to bed; and then delays, Long expectations, all against known wishes. 10 I hate these figures in locution, These about phases forced by ceremony; We must still seem to fly what we most seek, And hide ourselves from what we fain would find. Let those that think and speak and do just acts, Know form can give no virtue to their acts, Nor detract vice.

_Zan._ Alas, fair princess! those that are strongly form'd And truly shap'd, may naked walk; but we, We things call'd women, only made for show 20 And pleasure, created to bear children And play at shuttlecock; we imperfect mixtures, Without respective ceremony used, And ever compliment, alas! what are we? Take from us formal custom and the courtesies Which civil fashion hath still used to us, We fall to all contempt. O women, how much, How much are you beholding to ceremony!

_So._ You are familiar. Zanthia, my shoe.

_Zan._ 'Tis wonder, madam, you tread not awry. 30

_So._ Your reason, Zanthia.

_Zan._ You go very high.

_So._ Hark! music! music!

_The Ladies lay the Princess in a fair bed, and close the curtains, whilst_ MASSINISSA _enters_.

_Ny._ The bridegroom!

_Arca._ The bridegroom!

_So._ Haste, good Zanthia: help! keep yet the doors!

_Zan._ Fair fall you, lady; so, admit, admit.

_Enter four Boys, anticly attired, with bows and quivers, dancing to the cornets a fantastic measure_; MASSINISSA _in his nightgown, led by_ ASDRUBAL _and_ HANNO, _followed by_ BYTHEAS _and_ JUGURTH. _The Boys draw the curtains, discovering_ SOPHONISBA, _to whom_ MASSINISSA _speaks_.

_Mass._ You powers of joy, gods of a happy bed, Show you are pleased; sister and wife of Jove, High-fronted Juno, and thou Carthage patron, Smooth-chinn'd Apollo, both give modest heat And temperate graces!

[MASSINISSA _draws a white ribbon forth_[301] _of the bed, as from the waist of_ SOPHONISBA.

Lo, I unloose thy waist! She that is just in love is god-like chaste. 40 Io to Hymen!

_Chorus, with cornets, organ and voices. Io to Hymen!_

_So._ A modest silence, though't be thought A virgin's beauty and her highest honour; Though bashful feignings nicely wrought, Grace her that virtue takes not in, but on her; What I dare think I boldly speak: After my word my well-bold action rusheth. In open flame then passion break! Where virtue prompts, thought, word, act never blusheth. Revenging gods, whose marble hands 50 Crush faithless men with a confounding terror, Give me no mercy if these bands I covet not with an unfeignèd fervour; Which zealous vow when ought can force me t'lame,[302] Load with that plague Atlas would groan at, shame. Io to Hymen!

_Chorus. Io to Hymen!_

_Asdru._ Live both high parents of so happy birth, Your stems may touch the skies and shadow earth; Most great in fame, more great in virtue shining. Prosper, O powers! a just, a strong divining. 60 Io to Hymen!

_Chorus. Io to Hymen!_

_Enter_ CARTHALON, _his sword drawn, his body wounded, his shield struck full of darts_; MASSINISSA _being ready for bed_.

_Car._ To bold hearts Fortune! be not you amazed, Carthage! O Carthage! be not you amazed.

_Mass._ Jove made us not to fear; resolve, speak out; The highest misery of man is doubt. Speak, Carthalon!

_Car._ The stooping sun, like to some weaker prince, Let his shades spread to an unnatural hugeness, When we, the camp that lay at Utica, From Carthage distant but five easy leagues, 70 Descried from off the watch three hundred sail, Upon whose tops the Roman eagles stretch'd Their large spread wings, which fann'd the evening air, To us cold breath; for well we might discern Rome swam to Carthage.

_Asd._ Hannibal, our rancour[303] is come back; thy slight, Thy stratagem, to lead war unto Rome, To quite ourselves, hath now taught desperate Rome T'assail our Carthage: now the war is here.

_Mass._ He is nor blest, nor honest, that can fear. 80

_Han._ Ay, but to cast the worst of our distress----

_Mass._ To doubt of what shall be, is wretchedness: Desire, fear, and hope, receive no bond By whom, we in ourselves are never but beyond. On!

_Car._ Th' alarum beats necessity of fight; Th' unsober evening draws out reeling forces, Soldiers, half men, who to their colours troop With fury, not with valour: whilst our ships Unrigg'd, unus'd, fitter for fire than water, 90 We save in our barr'd haven from surprise. By this our army marcheth toward the shore, Undisciplin'd young men, most bold to do, If they knew how, or what; when we descry A mighty dust, beat up with horses' hooves: Straight Roman ensigns glitter; Scipio----

_Asd._ Scipio!

_Car._ Scipio, advancèd like the god of blood, Leads up grim war, that father of foul wounds, Whose sinewy feet are steep'd in gore, whose hideous voice 100 Makes turrets tremble and whole cities shake; Before whose brows flight and disorder hurry; With whom march burnings, murder, wrong, waste, rapes; Behind whom a sad train is seen, woe, fears, Tortures, lean need, famine, and helpless tears. Now make we equal stand in mutual view: We judg'd the Romans eighteen thousand foot, Five thousand horse; we almost doubled them In number, not in virtue;[304] yet in heat Of youth and wine, jolly, and full of blood, 110 We gave the sign of battle: shouts are raised That shook the heavens; pell-mell our armies join; Horse, targets, pikes, all against each opposed,[305] They give fierce shock, arms thunder'd as they clos'd: Men cover earth, which straight are coverèd With men and earth; yet doubtful stood the fight, More fair to Carthage, when lo, as oft we see, In mines of gold, when labouring slaves delve out The richest ore, being in sudden hope With some unlook'd-for vein to fill their buckets, 120 And send huge treasure up, a sudden damp Stifles them all, their hands yet stuff'd with gold,-- So fell our fortunes; for look, as we stood proud, Like hopeful victors, thinking to return With spoils worth triumph, wrathful Syphax lands With full ten thousand strong Numidian horse, And joins to Scipio. Then lo, we[306] all were damp'd; We fall[307] in clusters, and our wearied troops Quit all. Slaughter ran through us straight; we fly, Romans pursue, but Scipio sounds retreat, 130 As fearing trains and night: we make amain For Carthage most, and some for Utica, All for our lives.--New force, fresh arms with speed!

_Han._[308] You have said truth of all; no more: I bleed. O[309] wretched fortune!

[_Tearing his hair._

_Mass._ Old lord, spare thy hairs: What, dost thou think baldness will cure thy grief? What decree the Senate?

_Enter_ GELOSSO _with commissions in his hand, sealed_.

_Gelo._ Ask old Gelosso, who returns from them, Inform'd with fullest charge. Strong Asdrubal, Great Massinissa, Carthage general, 140 So speaks the Senate: counsel for this war In Hanno Magnus, Bytheas, Carthalon, And us Gelosso, rests. Embrace this charge, You never yet dishonour'd Asdrubal, High Massinissa! by your vows to Carthage, By th' god of great men,--glory,--fight for Carthage! Ten thousand strong Massulians, ready troop'd, Expect their king; double that number waits The leading of loved Asdrubal: beat loud Our Afric drums! and, whilst our o'er-toil'd foe 150 Snores on his unlacked casque, all faint, though proud, Through his successful fight, strike fresh alarms. Gods are not if they grace not bold, just arms.

_Mass._ Carthage, thou straight shalt know Thy favours have been done unto a king.

[_Exit with_ ASDRUBAL _and the Page_.

_So._ My lords, 'tis most unusual such sad haps Of sudden horror should intrude 'mong beds Of soft and private loves; but strange events Excuse strange forms. O you that know our blood, Revenge if I do feign. I here protest, 160 Though my lord leave his wife a very maid, Even this night, instead of my soft arms Clasping his well-strung limbs with glossful steel, What's safe to Carthage shall be sweet to me. I must not, nor am I once ignorant My choice of love hath given this sudden danger To yet strong Carthage: 'twas I lost the fight; My choice vex'd Syphax, enraged Syphax struck Arms' fate;[310] yet Sophonisba not repents: O we were gods if that we knew events. 170 But let my[311] lord leave Carthage, quit his virtue, I will not love him; yet must honour him, As still good subjects must bad princes. Lords, From the most ill-graced hymeneal bed That ever Juno frown'd at, I entreat That you'll collect from our loose-formèd speech This firm resolve: that no low appetite Of my sex' weakness can or shall o'ercome Due grateful[312] service unto you or virtue. Witness, ye gods, I never until now 180 Repined at my creation: now I wish I were no woman, that my arms might speak My heart to Carthage. But in vain: my tongue Swears I am woman still, I talk too[313] long.

_Cornets, a march. Enter two Pages with targets and javelins; two Pages with torches._ MASSINISSA _armed cap-à-pie_; ASDRUBAL _armed_.

_Mass._ Ye Carthage lords, know Massinissa knows Not only terms of honour, but his actions; Nor must I now enlarge how much my cause Hath danger'd Carthage, but how I may show Myself most prest[314] to satisfaction. The loathsome stain of kings' ingratitude 190 From me O much be far! And since this torrent, War's rage, admits no anchor--since the billow Is risen so high we may not hull,[315] but yield This ample state to stroke of speedy swords; What you with sober haste have well decreed, We'll put to sudden arms; no, not this night, These dainties, these firstfruits of nuptials, That well might give excuse for feeble lingerings, Shall hinder Massinissa. Appetite, Kisses, loves, dalliance, and what softer joys 200 The Venus of the pleasing'st ease can minister, I quit you all. Virtue perforce is vice; But he that may, yet holds, is manly wise. Lo then, ye lords of Carthage, to your trust I leave all Massinissa's treasure: by the oath Of right good men stand to my fortune just: Most hard it is for great hearts to mistrust.

_Car._ We vow by all high powers.

_Mass._ No, do not swear; I was not born so small to doubt or fear.

_So._ Worthy, my lord----

_Mass._ Peace, my ears are steel; 210 I must not hear thy much-enticing voice.

_So._ My Massinissa, Sophonisba speaks Worthy thy wife: go with as high a hand As worth can rear. I will not stay my lord. Fight for our country; vent thy youthful heat In field, not beds: the fruit of honour, Fame, Be rather gotten than the oft disgrace Of hapless parents, children. Go, best man, And make me proud to be a soldier's wife, That values his renown above faint pleasures: 220 Think every honour that doth grace thy sword Trebles my love. By thee I have no lust But of thy glory. Best lights of heaven with thee! Like wonder, stand or fall; so, though thou die, My fortunes may be wretched, but not I.

_Mass._ Wondrous creature! even fit for gods, not men: Nature made all the rest of thy fair sex As weak essays, to make thee a pattern Of what can be in woman! Long farewell! He's sure unconquer'd in whom thou dost dwell, 230 Carthage Palladium.[316] See that glorious lamp-- Whose lifeful[317] presence giveth sudden flight To fancies, fogs, fears, sleep, and slothful night-- Spreads day upon the world: march swift amain;-- Fame got with loss of breath is god-like gain!

[_The Ladies draw the curtains about_ SOPHONISBA; _the rest accompany_ MASSINISSA _forth: the cornets and organs playing loud full music for the Act_.

[301] The maiden-girdle worn by unmarried women. It was loosed by the bridegroom on the marriage night.

[302] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. (8vo of 1633) "claime."

[303] Old eds. "ancor"--an obvious misprint. The meaning is "our rancorous hatred of the Romans has recoiled on our own heads."

[304] Valour (Lat. _virtus_).

[305] Ed. 1. "apposd."

[306] Ed. 1. "yee."

[307] Ed. 2. "fell."

[308] Not marked in ed. 1.

[309] The words "O wretched fortune!" are given to Bytheas in ed. 1.

[310] Quy. "Arm'd hate"?

[311] Ed. 1. "me."

[312] Ed. 2. "gracefull."

[313] Ed. 2. "so."

[314] Ready, forward.

[315] See note 2, vol. i. p. 87.

[316] The image of Pallas at Troy. The safety of the city depended on its possession.

[317] Ed. 2. "lightfull."

## ACT II.

## SCENE I.

_The Senate-house at Carthage._

_Whilst the music for the first Act sounds_, HANNO, CARTHALON, BYTHEAS, GELOSSO, _enter: they place themselves to counsel_, GISCO, _the impoisoner, waiting on them_; HANNO, CARTHALON, _and_ BYTHEAS _setting their hands to a writing, which being offered to_ GELOSSO, _he denies his hand, and, as much offended, impatiently starts up and speaks_.

_Enter_ GELOSSO, HANNO, BYTHEAS, CARTHALON.

_Gel._ My hand? my hand? rot first; wither in aged shame.

_Han._ Will you be so unseasonably wood?[318]

_By._ Hold such preposterous zeal as stand[319] against The full decree of Senate, all think fit?

_Car._ Nay, most inevitable[320] necessary For Carthage' safety, and the now sole good Of present state, that we must break all faith With Massinissa. Whilst he fights abroad, Let's gain back Syphax, making him our own, By giving Sophonisba to his bed. 10

_Han._ Syphax is Massinissa's greater, and his force Shall give more side to Carthage: as for's queen, And her wise father, they love Carthage fate; Profit and honesty are not one in state.

_Gel._ And what decrees our very virtuous Senate Of worthy Massinissa, that now fights, And (leaving wife and bed) bleeds in good arms For right old Carthage?

_Car._ Thus 'tis thought fit: Her father, Asdrubal, on sudden shall take in Revolted Syphax; so with doubled strength, 20 Before that Massinissa shall suspect, Slaughter both Massinissa and his troops, And likewise strike with his deep stratagem A sudden weakness into Scipio's arms, By drawing such a limb from the main body Of his yet powerful army: which being done, Dead Massinissa's kingdom we decree To Sophonisba and great Asdrubal For their consent; so this swift plot shall bring Two crowns to her, make Asdrubal a king. 30

_Gel._ So, first faith's breach, murder, adultery, theft!

_Car._ What else?

_Gel._ Nay, all is done, no mischief left.

_Car._ Pish! Prosperous success gives blackest actions glory; The means are unremember'd in most story.

_Gel._ Let me not say gods are not.

_Car._ This is fit: Conquest by blood is not so sweet as wit: For howsoe'er nice virtue censures[321] it, He hath the grace of war that hath war's profit. But Carthage, well advised that states come on 40 With slow advice, quick execution, Have here an engineer long bred for plots, Call'd an impois'ner, who knows this sound excuse: Th' only dew that makes men sprout in court is use. Be't well or ill, his thrift is to be mute; Such slaves must act commands, and not dispute. Knowing foul deeds with danger do begin, But with rewards do end: sin is no sin, But in respects----

_Gel._ Politic lord, speak low: though Heaven bears A face far from us, gods have most long ears; 51 Jove has a hundred marble marble hands.

_Car._ O ay, in poetry or tragic scene!

_Gel._ I fear gods only know what poets mean.

_Car._ Yet hear me, I will speak close truth and cease: Nothing in Nature is unserviceable, No, not even inutility itself. Is then for nought dishonesty in being? And if it be sometimes of forcèd use, Wherein more urgent than in saving nations? 60 State shapes are solder'd up with base, nay faulty, Yet necessary functions: some must lie, Some must betray, some murder, and some all; Each hath strong use, as poison in all purges: Yet when some violent chance shall force a state To break given faith, or plot some stratagems, Princes ascribe that vile necessity Unto Heaven's wrath. And sure, though't be no vice, Yet 'tis bad chance: states must not stick too nice, For Massinissa's death sense bids forgive: 70 Beware t'offend great men, and let them live; For 'tis of empire's body the main arm,-- He that will do no good shall do no harm. You have my mind.

_Gel._ Although a stage-like passion, and weak heat, Full of an empty wording, might suit age, Know I'll speak strongly truth. Lords, ne'er mistrust, That he who'll not betray a private man For his country, will ne'er betray his country For private men; then give Gelosso faith. 80 If treachery in state be serviceable, Let hangmen do it. I am bound to lose My life, but not mine honour, for my country. Our vows, our faith, our oaths, why they're ourselves, And he that's faithless to his proper self May be excus'd if he break faith with princes. The gods assist just hearts, and states that trust Plots before Providence are toss'd like dust. For Massinissa (O, let me slack a little Austere discourse and feel humanity!) 90 Methinks I hear him cry, "O fight for Carthage! Charge home! wounds smart not for that so just, so great, So good a city." Methinks I see him yet Leave his fair bride, even on his nuptial night, To buckle on his arms for Carthage. Hark! Yet, yet, I hear him cry,--"Ingratitude, Vile stain of man, O ever be most far From Massinissa's breast! Up, march amain; Fame got by loss of breath is god-like gain!" And see, by this he bleeds in doubtful[322] fight, 100 And cries "For Carthage!" whilst Carthage--Memory, Forsake Gelosso! would I could not think, Nor hear, nor be, when Carthage is So infinitely vile! See, see! look here!

_Cornets. Enter two_ Ushers; SOPHONISBA, ZANTHIA, _and_ ARCATHIA; HANNO, BYTHEAS, _and_ CARTHALON _present_ SOPHONISBA _with a paper, which she having perused, after a short silence, speaks_.

_So._ Who speaks? What, mute? Fair plot! What? blush to break it? How lewd to act when so shamed but to speak it. Is this the Senate's firm decree?[323]

_Car._ It is.

_So._ Is this the Senate's firm decree?

_Car._ It is.

_So._ Hath Syphax entertained the stratagem?

_Car._ No doubt he hath or will.

_So._ My answer's thus, 110 What's safe to Carthage shall be sweet to us.[324]

_Car._ Right worthy.

_Han._ Royalest.

_Gel._ O very woman!

_So._ But 'tis not safe for Carthage to destroy. Be most unjust, cunningly politic, Your head's still under heaven. O trust to Fate: Gods prosper more a just than crafty state; 'Tis less disgrace to have a pitied loss, Than shameful victory.

_Gel._ O very angel!

_So._ We all have sworn good Massinissa faith; Speech makes us men, and there's no other bond 120 'Twixt man and man but words. O equal gods! Make us once know the consequence of vows--

_Gel._ And we shall hate faith-breakers worse than man-eaters.

_So._ Ha, good Gelosso, is thy breath not here?

_Gel._ You do me wrong: as long as I can die, Doubt you that old Gelosso can be vile? States may afflict, tax, torture, but our minds Are only sworn to Jove. I grieve, and yet am proud That I alone am honest: high powers, ye know Virtue is seldom seen with troops to go. 130

_So._ Excellent man! Carthage and Rome shall fall Before thy fame.--Our lords, know I the worst?

_Car._ The gods foresaw, 'tis fate we thus are forc'd.

_So._ Gods naught foresee, but see, for to their eyes Naught is to come or past; nor are you vile Because the gods foresee; for gods, not[325] we, See as things are; things are not as[326] we see. But since affected wisdom in us women Is our sex' highest folly, I am silent; I cannot speak less well, unless I were 140 More void of goodness. Lords of Carthage, thus: The air and earth of Carthage owes[327] my body; It is their servant; what decree they of it?

_Car._ That you remove to Cirta, to the palace Of well-form'd Syphax, who with longing eyes Meets you: he that gives way to Fate is wise.

_So._ I go: what power can make me wretched? what evil Is there in life to him that knows life's loss To be no evil? show, show thy ugliest brow, O most black chance; make me a wretched story: 150 Without misfortune virtue hath no glory; Opposèd trees makes tempests show their power, And waves forced back by rocks makes Neptune tower,-- Tearless O see a miracle of life, A maid, a widow, yet a hapless wife!

[_Cornets._ SOPHONISBA, _accompanied with the Senators, departs; only_ GELOSSO _stays_.

_Gel._ A prodigy! let Nature run cross-legg'd, Ops go upon his head, let Neptune burn, Cold Saturn crack with heat, for now the world Hath seen a woman! Leap nimble lightning from Jove's ample shield, 160 And make at length an end! The proud hot breath Of thee-contemning greatness; the huge drought Of sole self-loving vast ambition; Th' unnatural scorching heat of all those lamps Thou rear'dst to yield a temperate fruitful heat; Relentless rage, whose heart hath no one drop Of human pity;--all, all loudly cry, Thy brand, O Jove, for now[328] the world is dry! O let a general end save Carthage fame! When worlds do burn, unseen's a city's flame. 170 Phoebus in me is great; Carthage must fall; Jove hates all vice, but vows' breach worst of all.

[_Exit._

[318] Distracted, mad.

[319] Ed. 2. "stands."

[320] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "vnevitable."

[321] Judges.

[322] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "double."

[323] Ed. 1. "decrees."

[324] Ed. 1. "me."

[325] Ed. 1. "and."

[326] Ed. 1. "for."

[327] Own.

[328] Old eds. "know."

## SCENE II.

_Near Cirta._

_Cornets sound a charge. Enter_ MASSINISSA _in his gorget_[329] _and shirt, shield, sword; his arm transfix'd with a dart_. JUGURTH _follows, with his cuirass and casque_.

_Mass._ Mount us again; give us another horse!

_Jug._ Uncle, your blood flows fast: pray ye withdraw.

_Mass._ O Jugurth, I cannot bleed too fast, too much, For that so great, so just, so royal Carthage! My wound smarts not, blood's loss makes me not faint, For that loved city. O nephew, let me tell thee, How good that Carthage is: it nourish'd me, And when full time gave me fit strength for love, The most adorèd creature of the city, To us before great Syphax did they yield,-- 10 Fair, noble, modest, and 'bove all, my [own], My Sophonisba! O Jugurth, my strength doubles: I know not how to turn a coward,--drop In feeble baseness I cannot. Give me horse! Know I'm Carthage' very creature, and am grac'd That I may bleed for them. Give me fresh horse!

_Jug._ He that doth public good for multitude, Finds few are truly grateful.

_Mass._ O Jugurth! fie! you must not say so. Jugurth, Some[330] common-weals may let a noble heart 20 Even bleed to death abroad, and not bemoan'd, Neither revenged, at home. But, Carthage, fie! It cannot be ungrate, faithless through fear: It cannot, Jugurth: Sophonisba's there. Beat a fresh charge!

_Enter_ ASDRUBAL, _his sword drawn, reading a letter_; GISCO _follows him_.

_Asd._ Sound the retreat; respect your health, brave prince; The waste of blood throws paleness on your face.

_Mass._ By light, my heart's not pale: O my loved father, We bleed for Carthage; balsam to my wounds, We bleed for Carthage; shall's restore the fight? 30 My squadron of Massulians yet stands firm.

_Asd._ The day looks off from Carthage; cease alarms! A modest temperance is the life of arms. Take our best surgeon Gisco; he is sent From Carthage to attend your chance of war.

_Gis._ We promise sudden ease.

_Mass._ Thy comfort's good.

_Asd._ --That nothing can secure us but thy blood! Infuse it in his wound, 'twill work amain.

_Gis._ --O Jove!

_Asd._ --What Jove? thy god must be thy gain,-- And as for me----Apollo Pythian, 40 Thou know'st a statist[331] must not be a man.

[_Exit_ ASDRUBAL.

_Enter_ GELOSSO _disguised like an old soldier, delivering to_ MASSINISSA (_as he is preparing to be dressed by_ GISCO) _a letter, which_ MASSINISSA _reading, starts, and speaks to_ GISCO.

_Mass._ Forbear; how art thou call'd?

_Gis._ Gisco, my lord.

_Mass._ Um, Gisco. Ha! touch not my arm.--[_To_ GELOSSO.] Most only man!-- [_To_ Gisco.] Sirra, sirra, art poor?

_Gis._ Not poor.

_Mass._ Nephew, command

[MASSINISSA _begins to draw_.

Our troops of horse make indisgraced retreat; Trot easy off.--Not poor!--Jugurth, give charge My soldiers stand in square battalia,

[_Exit_ JUGURTH.

Entirely of themselves.--Gisco, th' art old; 'Tis time to leave off murder; thy faint breath Scarce heaves thy ribs, thy gummy blood-shut eyes 50 Are sunk a great way in thee, thy lank skin Slides from thy fleshless veins: be good to men. Judge him, ye gods: I had not life to kill So base a creature. Hold, Gisco, live; The god-like part of kings is to forgive.

_Gis._ Command astonish'd Gisco.

_Mass._ No, return. Haste unto Carthage, quit thy abject fears, Massinissa knows no use of murderers.

[_Exit_ GISCO.

_Enter_ JUGURTH, _amazed, his sword drawn_.

Speak, speak! let terror strike slaves mute, Much danger makes great hearts most resolute. 60

_Jug._ Uncle, I fear foul arms; myself beheld Syphax on high speed run his well-breath'd horse Direct to Cirta, that most beauteous city Of all his kingdom; whilst his troops of horse, With careless trot, pace gently toward our camp, As friends to Carthage. Stand on guard, dear uncle; For Asdrubal, with yet his well-rank'd army, Bends a deep threat'ning brow to us, as if He waited but to join with Syphax' horse, And hew us all to pieces. O my king, 70 My uncle, father, captain, O over all! Stand like thyself, or like thyself now fall! Thy troops yet hold good ground. Unworthy wounds, Betray not Massinissa!

_Mass._ Jugurth, pluck, Pluck! so, good coz.

_Jug._ O God! Do you not feel?

_Mass._ Not, Jugurth, no; now all my flesh is steel.

_Gel._ Off base disguise! high lights scorn not to view A true old man. Up, Massinissa! throw The lot of battle upon Syphax' troops, Before he join with Carthage; then amain 80 Make through to Scipio; he yields safe abodes: Spare treachery, and strike the very gods.

_Mass._ Why wast thou born at Carthage! O my fate! Divinest Sophonisba! I am full Of much complaint, and many passions, The least of which express'd would sad the gods, And strike compassion in most[332] ruthless hell. Up, unmaim'd heart, spend all thy grief and rage Upon thy foe! the field's a soldier's stage, On which his action shows. If you are just, 90 And hate those that contemn you, O you gods, Revenge worthy your anger, your anger! O, Down man, up heart! stoop Jove, and bend thy chin To thy large breast; give sign th'art pleased, and just; Swear good men's foreheads must not print the dust.

[_Exeunt._

[329] Armour for the throat.

[330] I follow the reading of ed. 2.--Ed. 1. gives:-- "Some common weales melt at a noble hart, Too forward bleeds abrode and bleed bemond, But not revengd at home."

[331] Statesman.--The word is used by Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, &c.

[332] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "into ruthlesse hell."

## SCENE III.

_Carthage._

_Enter_ ASDRUBAL, HANNO, BYTHEAS.

_Asd._ What Carthage hath decreed, Hanno, is done; Advanced and born was Asdrubal for state; Only with it, his faith, his love, his hate, Are of one piece. Were it my daughter's life That, fate hath sung, to Carthage safety brings, What deed so red but hath been done by kings? Iphigenia--He that's a man for men, Ambitious as a god, must, like a god, Live free from passions; his full aim'd at end, Immense to others, sole self to comprehend, 10 Round in's own globe; not to be clasp'd, but holds Within him all; his heart being of more folds Than shield of Telamon, not to be pierc'd, though struck: The god of wise men is themselves, not luck.

_Enter_ GISCO.

See him by whom now Massinissa is not. Gisco, is't done?

_Gis._ Your pardon, worthy lord, It is not done, my heart sunk in my breast, His virtue mazed me, faintness seized me all: Some god's in kings, that will not let them fall. 19

_Asd._ His virtue mazed thee! (umh) why now I see Th'art that just man that hath true touch of blood, Of pity, and soft piety. Forgive? Yes, honour thee; we did it but to try What sense thou hadst of blood. Go, Bytheas, Take him into our private treasury-- [_Aside to_ BYTHEAS] And cut his throat; the slave hath all betray'd.

_By._ --Are you assured?

_Asd._ --Afear'd, for this I know, Who thinketh to buy villainy with gold, Shall ever find such faith so bought, so sold.-- Reward him thoroughly.

[_A shout; the cornets giving a flourish._

_Han._ What means this shout? 30

_Asd._ Hanno, 'tis done. Syphax' revolt by this Hath secured Carthage; and now his force come in, And join'd with us, give Massinissa charge, And assured slaughter. O ye powers! forgive, Through rotten'st dung best plants both sprout and live; By blood[333] vines grow.

_Han._ But yet think, Asdrubal, 'Tis fit at least you bear grief's outward show; It is your kinsman bleeds. What need men know Your hand is in his wounds? 'Tis well in state To do close ill, but 'void a public hate. 40

_Asd._ Tush, Hanno! let me prosper, let routs prate; My power shall force their silence or my hate. I scorn their idle malice: men of weight Know, he that fears envy let him cease to reign; The people's hate to some hath been their gain. For howsoe'er a monarch feigns his parts, Steal anything from kings but subjects' hearts.

_Enter_ CARTHALON _leading in bound_ GELOSSO.

_Car._ Guard, guard the camp!--make to the trench!--stand firm!

_Asd._ The gods of boldness with us!--how runs chance?

_Car._ Think, think how wretched thou canst be, thou art; 50 Short words shall speak long woes.

_Gel._ Mark, Asdrubal.

_Car._ Our bloody plot to Massinissa's ear Untimely by this lord was all betrayed.

_Gel._ By me it was; by me, vile Asdrubal; I joy to speak't.

_Asd._ Down, slave!

_Gel._ I cannot fall.

_Car._ Our train's disclosed, straight to his well-used arms He took himself, rose up with all his force On Syphax' careless troops, Syphax being hurried Before to Cirta, fearless of success, Impatient Sophonisba to enjoy; 60 Gelosso rides to head of all our squadrons, Commands make stand in thy name, Asdrubal, In mine, in his, in all: they all obey; Whilst Massinissa, now with more than fury, Chargeth the loose and much-amazèd ranks Of absent Syphax, who with broken shout (In vain expecting Carthage secondings) Give faint repulse. A second charge is given: Then look, as when a falcon towers aloft, Whole shoals of fowl and flocks of lesser birds 70 Crouch fearfully, and dive; some among sedge, Some creep in brakes: so Massinissa's sword, Brandish'd aloft, toss'd 'bout his shining casque, Made stoop whole squadrons; quick as thought he strikes, Here hurls he darts, and there his rage-strong arm Fights foot to foot; here cries he "strike! they sink!" And then grim slaughter follows; for by this, As men betray'd, they curse us, die, or fly, or both; Six thousand fell at once. Now was I come, And straight perceived all bled by his vile plot. 80

_Gel._ Vile! Good plot! my good plot, Asdrubal!

_Car._ I forced our army beat a running march; But Massinissa struck his spurs apace Upon his speedy horse, leaves slaughtering; All fly to Scipio, who with open ranks In view receives them: all I could effect Was but to gain him.

_Asd._ Die!

_Gel._ Do what thou can, Thou canst but kill a weak old honest man.

[GELOSSO _departs, guarded_.

_Car._ Scipio and Massinissa by this strike Their claspèd palms, then vow an endless love; 90 Straight a joint shout they raise, then turn they breasts Direct on us, march strongly toward our camp, As if they dared us fight. O Asdrubal, I fear they'll force our camp.

_Asd._ Break up and fly.-- This was your plot.

_Han._ But 'twas thy shame to choose it.

_Car._ He that forbids not offence, he does it.

_Asd._ The curse of women's words go with you.--Fly!-- You are no villains!--Gods and men, which way?-- Advise vile things!

_Han._ Vile?

_Asd._ Ay!

_Car._ Not?

_By._ You did all.

_Asd._ Did you not plot?

_Car._ Yielded not Asdrubal? 100

_Asd._ But you enticed me.

_Han._ How?

_Asd._ With hope of place.

_Car._ He that for wealth leaves faith, is abject.

_Han._ Base.

_Asd._ Do not provoke my sword; I live.

_Car._ More shame, T' outlive thy virtue and thy once great name.

_Asd._ Upbraid ye me?

_Han._ Hold!

_Car._ Know that only thou Art treacherous: thou shouldst have had a crown.

_Han._ Thou didst all, all; he for whom mischief's done, He does it.

_Asd._ Brook[334] open scorn, faint powers!-- Make good the camp!--No, fly!--yes, what?--wild rage!-- 110 To be a prosperous villain! yet some heat, some hold; But to burn temples, and yet freeze, O cold! Give me some health; now your blood sinks: thus deeds Ill nourish'd rot; without Jove nought succeeds.

[_Exeunt._

[333] Marston may here be alluding to a passage in Plutarch's _De Iside et Osiride:_--"êrxanto de pinein apo Psammêtichou, proteron d' ouk epinon oinon, oude espendon, hôs philion theois, all' hôs haima tôn polemêsantôn pote tois theois, ex hôn oiontai pesontôn kai tê gê symmigentôn ampelous genesthai; dio kai to methyein ekphronas poiei kai paraplêgas hate dê tôn progonôn tou haimatos empiplamenous."

[334] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "Brode skorne oppen faind powers."

## ACT III.[335]

## SCENE I.

_The Palace of_ SYPHAX _at Cirta_.

SYPHAX, _with his dagger twon_[336] _about her hair, drags in_ SOPHONISBA _in her nightgown and petticoat_; ZANTHIA _and_ VANGUE _following_.

_Sy._ Must we entreat? sue to such squeamish ears? Know, Syphax has no knees, his eyes no tears; Enragèd love is senseless of remorse. Thou shalt, thou must: kings' glory is their force. Thou art in Cirta, in my palace, fool: Dost think he pitieth tears that knows to rule? For all thy scornful eyes, thy proud disdain, And late contempt of us, now we'll revenge, Break stubborn silence. Look, I'll tack thy head To the low earth, whilst strength of two black knaves 10 Thy limbs all wide shall strain. Prayer fitteth slaves, Our courtship be our force: rest calm as sleep, Else at this quake; hark, hark, we cannot weep.

_So._ Can Sophonisba be enforc'd?

_Sy._ Can? see.

_So._ Thou mayest enforce my body, but not me.

_Sy._ Not?

_So._ No.

_Sy._ No?

_So._ No: off with thy loathèd arms, That lie more heavy on me than the chains That wear deep wrinkles in the captive's limbs! I do beseech thee.

_Sy._ What?

_So._ Be but a beast, Be but a beast.

_Sy._ Do not offend a power 20 Can make thee more than wretched: yield to him To whom fate yields. Know, Massinissa's dead.

_So._ Dead!

_Sy._ Dead.

_So._ To gods' and[337] good men's shame.

_Sy._ Help, Vangue, my strong blood boils.

_So._ O[338] yet save thine own fame.

_Sy._ All appetite is deaf; I will, I must. Achilles' armour could not bar[339] out lust.

_So._ Hold thy strong arm, and hear me. Syphax, know I am thy servant now: I needs must love thee, For (O, my sex, forgive!) I must confess We not affect protesting feebleness, 30 Entreats, faint blushings, timorous modesty; We think our lover is but little man, Who is so full of woman. Know, fair Prince, Love's strongest arm's not rude; for we still prove, Without some fury there's no ardent love. We love our love's impatience of delay; Our noble[340] sex was only born t'obey, To him that dares command.

_Sy._ Why, this is well; Th' excuse is good: wipe thy fair eyes, our Queen, Make proud thy head; now feel more friendly strength Of thy lord's arm: come, touch my rougher skin 41 With thy soft lip. Zanthia, dress our bed. Forget old loves, and clip him that through blood And hell acquires his wish; think not but kiss, The flourish fore love's fight and[341] Venus' bliss.

_So._ Great dreadful lord, by thy affection, Grant me one boon. Know I have made a vow--

_Sy._ Vow! what vow? speak.

_So._ Nay, if you take offence, Let my soul suffer first, and yet----

_Sy._ Offence? Not, Sophonisba; hold, thy vow is free 50 As----come, thy lips!

_So._ Alas, cross misery! As I do wish to live, I long t'enjoy Your warm embrace; but, oh my vow, 'tis thus: If ever my lord died, I vow'd to him A most, most private sacrifice, before I touch'd a second spouse. All I implore, Is but this liberty.

_Sy._ This? go, obtain. What time?

_So._ One hour.

_Sy._ Sweet, good speed, speed, adieu!-- Yet, Syphax, trust no more than thou may'st view.-- Vangue shall stay.

_So._ He stays.

_Enter a Page, delivering a letter to_ SOPHONISBA, _which she privately reads_.

_Sy._ Zanthia, Zanthia! 60 Thou art not foul, go to; some lords are oft So much in love with their known ladies' bodies, That they oft love their--Vails:[342] hold, hold, thou'st find To faithful care kings' bounty hath no shore.

_Zan._ You may do much.

_Sy._ But let my gold do more.

_Zan._ I am your creature.

_Sy._ Be yet;[343] 'tis no stain; The god of service is however gain.

[_Exit._

_So._ Zanthia, where are we now? speak worth my service; Ha' we done well?

_Zan._ Nay, in height of best I fear'd a superstitious virtue would spoil all, 70 But now I find you above women rare. She that can time her goodness hath true care Of her best good. Nature at home begins; She, whose integrity herself hurts, sins. For Massinissa, he was good, and so; But he is dead, or worse, distress'd, or more Than dead, or much distress'd. O sad, poor,-- Who ever held such friends? no, let him go; Such faith is praised, then laugh'd at; for still know Those are the living women that reduce 80 All that they touch unto their ease and use, Knowing that wedlock, virtue, or good names, Are courses and varieties of reason, To use or leave, as they advantage them, And absolute within themselves reposed, Only to greatness ope, to all else closed. Weak sanguine fools are to their own good nice; Before I held you virtuous, but now wise.

_So._ Zanthia, victorious Massinissa lives, My Massinissa lives. O steady powers, 90 Keep him as safe as heaven keeps the earth, Which looks upon it with a thousand eyes! That honest valiant man! and Zanthia, Do but record the justice of his love, And my for ever vows, for ever vows!

_Zan._ Ay, true madam; nay, think of his great mind, His most just heart, his all of excellence, And such a virtue as the gods might envy. Against this, Syphax, is but----and you know, Fame lost, what can be got that's good for----

_So._ Hence! 100 Take, nay, with one hand.

_Zan._ My service.

_So._ Prepare Our sacrifice.

_Zan._ But yield you, ay or no?

_So._ When thou dost know.

_Zan._ What then?

_So._ Then thou wilt know.

[_Exit_ ZANTHIA.

Let him that would have counsel 'void th' advice Of friends, made his with weighty benefits, Whose much dependence only strives to fit Humour, not reason, and so still devise In any thought to make their friend seem wise. But above all, O fear a servant's tongue, Like such as only for their gain do[344] serve. 110 Within the vast capacity of space,[345] I know no vileness so most truly base. Their lord's their gain; and he that most will give, With him (they will not die, but) they will live. Traitors and these are one; such slaves once trust, Whet swords to make thine own blood lick the dust.

_Cornets and organs playing full music, enter under the conduct of_ ZANTHIA _and_ VANGUE, _the solemnity of a sacrifice; which being entered, whilst the attendants furnish the altar_, SOPHONISBA _sings a song; which done, she speaks_.

Withdraw, withdraw; all but Zanthia and Vangue depart.--

[_Exeunt attendants._

I not invoke thy arm, thou god of sound,-- Nor thine, nor thine,--although in all abound High powers immense. But jovial Mercury, 120 And thou, O brightest female of the sky, Thrice-modest Phoebe, you that jointly fit A worthy chastity and a most chaste wit, To you corruptless honey and pure dew Upbreathes our holy fire; words just and few, O deign to hear! if in poor wretches' cries You glory not; if drops of withered eyes Be not your sport, be just; all that I crave Is but chaste life, or an untainted grave. I can no more; yet hath my constant tongue 130 Let fall no weakness, tho' my heart were wrung With pangs worth hell; whilst great thoughts stop our tears, Sorrow unseen, unpitied, inward wears: You see now where I rest, come is my end. Cannot Heaven virtue 'gainst weak chance defend? When weakness hath out-borne what weakness can,-- What should I say?--'tis Jove's, not sin of man. --Some stratagem now! let wit's God be shown, Celestial powers by miracles are known. I have't; 'tis done.--Zanthia, prepare our bed. 140 Vangue!

_Van._ Your servant.

_So._ Vangue, we have perform'd Due rites unto the dead.

[SOPHONISBA _presents a carouse to_ VANGUE.

Now to thy lord, great Syphax, healthful cups, Which done, the king is right much welcome.

_Van._ Were it as deep as thought, off it should thus.

[_He drinks._

_So._ My safety with that draught.

_Van._ Close the vault's mouth lest we do slip in drink.

_So._ To what use, gentle negro, serves this cave, Whose mouth thus opens so familiarly, Even in the king's bedchamber?

_Van._ O, my queen, 150 This vault with hideous darkness, and much length, Stretcheth beneath the earth into a grove, One league from Cirta (I am very sleepy); Through this, when Cirta hath been strong begirt, With hostile siege the king hath safely 'scaped To, to----

_So._ The wine is strong.

_Van._ Strong?

_So._ Zanthia!

_Zan._ What means my princess?

_So._ Zanthia, rest firm And silent. Help us; nay, do not dare refuse.

_Zan._ The negro's dead!

_So._ No, drunk.

_Zan._ Alas!

_So._ Too late! Her hand is fearful whose mind's desperate. 160 It is but sleepy opium he hath drunk. Help, Zanthia!

[_They lay_ VANGUE _in_ SYPHAX' _bed and draw the curtains_.

There lie Syphax' bride; a naked man is soon undress'd; There bide dishonoured passion.

[_They knock within, forthwith_ SYPHAX _comes_.

_Sy._ Way for the king!

_So._ Straight for the king. I fly Where misery shall see nought but itself. Dear Zanthia, close the vault when I am sunk, And whilst he slips to bed, escape; be true; I can no more; come to me. Hark, gods, my breath Scorns to crave life, grant but a well-famed death. 170

[_She descends._

_Enter_ SYPHAX, _ready for bed, with attendants_.

_Sy._ Each man withdraw, let not a creature stay Within large distance.

_Zan._ Sir!

_Sy._ Hence, Zanthia! Not thou shalt hear; all stand without ear-reach Of the soft cries nice shrinking brides do yield, When----

_Zan._ But, sir----

_Sy._ Hence!--stay, take thy delight by steps, Think of thy joys, and make long thy pleasures. O silence, thou dost swallow pleasure right; Words take away some sense from our delight. Music! 180 Be proud, my Venus; Mercury, thy tongue; Cupid, thy flame; 'bove all, O Hercules, Let not thy back be wanting; for now I leap To catch the fruit none but the gods should reap.

[_Offering to leap into bed, he discovers_ VANGUE.

Hah! can any woman turn to such a devil? Or--or--Vangue, Vangue----

_Van._ Yes, yes.

_Sy._ Speak, slave! How camest thou here?

_Van._ Here?

_Sy._ Zanthia, Zanthia! Where's Sophonisba? speak at full--at full. Give me particular faith, or know thou art not----

_Zan._ Your pardon, just-moved prince, and private ear. 190

_Sy._ Ill actions have some grace, that they can fear.

_Van._ How came I laid? which way was I made drunk? Where am I? think I, or is my state advanced? O Jove, how pleasant is it but to sleep, In a king's bed!

_Sy._ Sleep there thy lasting sleep, Improvident, base, o'er-thirsty slave.

[SYPHAX _kills_ VANGUE.

Die pleased, a king's couch is thy too-proud grave.-- Through this vault say'st thou?

_Zan._ As you give me grace To live, 'tis true.

_Sy._ We will be good to Zanthia; Go, cheer thy lady, and be private to us. 200

_Zan._ As to my life.

[_She descends after_ SOPHONISBA.

_Sy._ I'll use this Zanthia, And trust her as our dogs drink dangerous Nile[346] (Only for thirst), that[347] fly the crocodile. Wise Sophonisba knows love's tricks of art: Without much hindrance pleasure hath no heart. Despite all virtue or weak plots I must: Seven-wallèd Babel cannot bar[348] out lust.

[_Descends through the vault._

[335] In the old eds. is the direction--"_Organ mixt with recorders for this Act_."

[336] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "_twound_."

[337] Ed. 1. "of good men shame."

[338] Ed. 1. "O save thine owne (yet) fame."

[339] Old eds. "beare."

[340] Quy. "feeble"?

[341] Ed. 1. "is."

[342] Old eds. "That they oft love their vailes; hold," &c.--If the text is not corrupt, we must suppose that a sentence breaks off at the word "their." Marston is fond of employing the horrid figure _aposiopesis_. "Vails" is intelligible on the supposition that Syphax is feeing the waiting-woman.

[343] Old eds. "get."

[344] Old eds. "to."

[345] Old eds. "place."

[346] Dogs on the banks of the Nile were supposed to drink by snatches, running, from fear of the crocodiles.--(Aelian, _Var. Hist._ i. 4.)

[347] Old eds. "Only for thirst; the Flie," &c.

[348] Old eds. "bear" and "beare."

## SCENE II.

_Neighbourhood of Utica._

_Enter_ SCIPIO _and_ LÆLIUS, _with the complements of Roman Generals before them_. _At the other door_, MASSINISSA _and_ JUGURTH. _Cornets sound marches._

_Mass._ Let not the virtue of the world suspect Sad Massinissa's faith; nor once condemn Our just revolt. Carthage first gave me life; Her ground gave food, her air first lent me breath: The earth was made for men, not men for earth. Scipio, I do not thank the gods for life, Much less vile men, or earth; know, best of lords, It is a happy being, breath well famed, For which Jove sees these thus.[349] Men, be not fool'd With piety to place, tradition's fear; 10 A just man's country Jove makes everywhere.

_Sci._ Well urgeth Massinissa; but to leave A city so ingrate, so faithless, so more vile Than civil speech can name, fear not; such vice To scourge is Heaven's grateful sacrifice. Thus all confess, first they have broke a faith To the[e] most due, so just to be observed, That barbarousness itself may well blush at them: Where is thy passion? They have shared thy crown, The proper right of birth, contrived thy death: 20 Where is thy passion? Given thy beauteous spouse To thy most hated rival. Statue, not man! And last, thy friend Gelosso (man worth gods) With tortures have they rent to death.

_Mass_. O Gelosso! For thee full eyes----

_Sci._ No passion for the rest?

_Mass._ O Scipio, My grief for him may be expressed by tears, But for the rest, silence, and secret anguish Shall waste--shall waste! Scipio, he that can weep, Grieves not, like me, private deep inward drops 30 Of blood. My heart! for god's right give me leave To be a short time man.

_Sci._ Stay, prince.

_Mass._ I cease; Forgive if I forget thy presence. Scipio, Thy face makes Massinissa more than man, And here before your steady power a vow As firm as fate I make: when I desist To be commanded by thy virtue, Scipio, Or fall from friend of Rome,[350] revenging gods Afflict me with[351] your torture. I have given Of passion and of faith, my heart.

_Sci._ To counsel then; 40 Grief fits weak hearts, revenging virtue men. Thus I think fit, before that Syphax know How deeply Carthage sinks, let's beat swift march Up even to Cirta, and whilst Syphax snores With his, late thine----

_Mass._ With mine! no, Scipio; Libya hath poison, asps, knives, and too much earth To make one grave. With mine! Not; she can die. Scipio, with mine! Jove, say it, thou dost lie.

_Sci._ Temperance be Scipio's honour.

_Læ._ Cease your strife, She is a woman.

_Mass._ But she is my wife. 50

_Læ._ And yet she is no god.

_Mass._ And yet she's more: I do not praise gods' goodness, but adore; Gods cannot fall, and for their constant goodness (Which is necessited) they have a crown Of never-ending pleasures; but faint man (Framed to have his weakness made the heavens' glory), If he with steady virtue holds all siege That power, that speech, that pleasure, that full sweets, A world of greatness can assail him with, Having no pay but self-wept misery, 60 A[352] beggar's treasure-heap,--that man I'll praise Above the gods.

_Sci._ The Libyan speaks bold sense.

_Mass._ By that by which all is, proportion, I speak with thought.

_Sci._ No more.

_Mass._ Forgive my admiration: You touch'd a string to which my sense was quick. Can you but think? Do, do; my grief--my grief-- Would make a saint blaspheme! Give some relief; As thou art Scipio, forgive that I forget I am a soldier. Such woes Jove's ribs would burst: Few speak less ill that feel so much of worst.-- 70 My ear attends.

_Sci._ Before then Syphax join, With new-strength'd Carthage, or can once unwind His tangled sense from out so wild[353] amaze, Fall we like sudden lightning 'fore his eyes: Boldness and speed are all of victories.

_Mass._ Scipio, let Massinissa clip thy knees! May once these eyes view Syphax? shall this arm Once make him feel his sin? O ye gods! My cause, my cause! Justice is so huge odds, That he who with it fears, heaven must renounce 80 In his creation.

_Sci._ Beat then a close quick march! Before the morn shall shake cold dews through skies, Syphax shall tremble at Rome's thick alarms.

_Mass._ Ye powers, I challenge conquest to just arms.

[_With a full flourish of cornets, they depart._

[349] The text is corrupt.--"Sees _me_ thus" (_i.e._, see me grateful), "sees the thus" (_i.e._, incense), and "sees this use" (_i.e._, interest of thanks) are alike unsatisfactory.

[350] Old eds. "Romes."

[351] Old eds. "worth."

[352] Old eds. "And beggars treasure heapt."

[353] Ed. 2. "vilde."

## ACT IV.[354]

## SCENE I.

_Near Cirta._

_Enter_ SOPHONISBA _and_ ZANTHIA, _as out of a cave's mouth_.

_So._ Where are we, Zanthia?

_Zan._ Vangue said the cave Opened in Belos' forest.

_So._ Lord, how sweet I scent the air! The huge long vault's close vein, What damps[355] it breath'd! In Belos' forest, say'st? Be valiant, Zanthia; how far's Utica From these most heavy shades?

_Zan._ Ten easy leagues.

_So._ There's Massinissa: my true Zanthia, Shall's venture nobly to escape, and touch My lord's just arms? Love's wings so nimbly[356] heave The body up, that, as our toes shall trip 10 Over the tender and obedient grass, Scarce any drop of dew is dash'd to ground. And see the willing shade of friendly night Makes safe our instant haste! Boldness and speed Make actions most impossible succeed.

_Zan._ But, madam, know the forest hath no way But one to pass, the which holds strictest guard.

_So._ Do not betray me, Zanthia.

_Zan._ I, madam?

_So._ No, I not mistrust thee, yet--but----

_Zan._ Here you may 20 Delay your time.

_So._ Ay, Zanthia, delay, By which we may yet hope--yet hope--alas! How all benumb'd's my sense! Chance hath so often struck I scarce can feel. I should now curse the gods, Call on the furies, stamp the patient earth. Cleave my stretch'd cheeks with sound, speak from all sense, But loud and full of players' eloquence. No, no; what shall we eat?

_Zan._ Madam, I'll search For some ripe nuts which autumn hath shook down From the unleaved hazel, then some cooler air 30 Shall lead me to a spring. Or I will try The courteous pale[357] of some poor foresters For milk.

_So._ Do, Zanthia. O happiness

[_Exit_ ZANTHIA.

Of those that know not pride or lust of city! There's no man bless'd but those that most men pity. O fortunate poor maids, that are not forced To wed for state, nor are for state divorced! Whom policy of kingdoms doth not marry, But pure affection makes to love or vary; You feel no love which you dare not to show, 40 Nor show a love which doth not truly grow! O you are surely blessèd of the sky! You live, that know not death before you die.

[_Through the vaut's_[358] _mouth, in his nightgown, torch in his hand_, SYPHAX _enters just behind_ SOPHONISBA.

You are----

_Sy._ In Syphax' arms. Thing of false lip, What god shall now release thee?

_So._ Art a man?

_Sy._ Thy limbs shall feel. Despite thy virtue, know I'll thread thy richest pearl. This forest's deaf As is my lust. Night and the god of silence Swells my full pleasures; no more shalt thou delude My easy credence. Virgin of fair brow, 50 Well-featured creature, and our utmost wonder, Queen of our youthful bed, be proud.

[SYPHAX _setteth away his light, and prepareth to embrace_ SOPHONISBA.

I'll use thee.

[SOPHONISBA _snatcheth out her knife_.

_So._ Look thee--view this--show but one strain of force, Bow but to seize this arm, and by myself, Or more, by Massinissa, this good steel Shall set my soul on wing. Thus, form'd gods, see, And, men with gods' worth, envy nought but me!

_Sy._ Do, strike thy breast; know, being dead, I'll use, With highest lust of sense, thy senseless flesh, And even then thy vexèd soul shall see, 60 Without resistance, thy trunk prostitute Unto our appetite.

_So._ I shame to make thee know How vile thou speakest; corruption then as much As thou shalt do; but frame unto thy lusts Imagination's utmost sin: Syphax, I speak all frightless, know I live or die To Massinissa; nor the force of fate Shall make me leave his love, or slake thy hate. I will speak no more.

_Sy._ Thou hast amazed us: woman's forcèd use, 70 Like unripe fruits, no sooner got but waste; They have proportion, colour, but no taste.-- [_Aside._] Think, Syphax.--Sophonisba, rest thine own. Our guard!

_Enter a guard._

Creature of most astonishing virtue, If with fair usage, love, and passionate courtings, We may obtain the heaven of thy bed, We cease no suit; from other force be free: We dote not on thy body, but love thee.

_So._ Wilt thou keep faith?

_Sy._ By thee, and by that power 80 By which thou art thus glorious, trust my vow. Our guard convey the royal'st excellence That ever was call'd woman to our palace: Observe her with strict care.

_So._ Dread Syphax, speak! As thou art worthy, is not Zanthia false?

_Sy._ To thee she is.

_So._ As thou art then thyself, Let her not be.

_Sy._ She is not!

[_The guard seizeth_ ZANTHIA.

_Za._ Thus most speed: When two foes are grown friends, partakers bleed.

_Sy._ When plants must flourish, their manure must rot.

_So._ Syphax, be recompensed, I hate thee not. 90

[_Exeunt_ SOPHONISBA, ZANTHIA, _and guard_.

_Sy._ A wasting flame feeds on my amorous blood, Which we must cool, or die. What way all power, All speech, full opportunity, can make, We have made fruitless trial. Infernal Jove, You resolute angels that delight in flames, To you, all-wonder-working spirits, I fly! Since heaven helps not, deepest hell we'll try Here in this desert, the great soul of charms, Dreadful Erictho lives, whose dismal brow Contemns all roofs or civil coverture. 100 Forsaken graves and tombs, the ghosts forced out, She joys to inhabit. A loathsome yellow leanness spreads her face, A heavy hell-like paleness loads her cheeks, Unknown to a clear heaven; but if dark winds Or thick black clouds drive back the blinded stars, When her deep magic makes forced heaven quake And thunder spite of Jove,--Erictho then From naked graves stalks out, heaves proud her head With long unkemb'd hair loaden, and strives to snatch 110 The night's quick sulphur; then she bursts up tombs, From half-rot sear-cloths then she scrapes dry gums For her black rites; but when she finds a corpse But[359] newly graved, whose entrails are not turn'd To slimy filth, with greedy havock then She makes fierce spoil, and swells with wicked triumph To bury her lean knuckles in his eyes; Then doth she gnaw the pale and o'ergrown nails From his dry hand; but if she find some life Yet lurking close, she bites his gelid[360] lips, 120 And, sticking her black tongue in his dry throat, She breathes dire murmurs, which enforce him bear Her baneful secrets to the spirits of horror. To her first sound the gods yield any harm, As trembling once to hear a second charm: She is----

_Infernal music plays softly whilst_ ERICTHO _enters, and, when she speaks, ceaseth_.

_Eri._ Here, Syphax, here; quake not, for know I know thy thoughts: thou wouldst entreat our power Nice Sophonisba's passion to enforce To thy affection, be all full of Jove.[361] 'Tis done, 'tis done; to us heaven, earth, sea, air, 130 And Fate itself obeys; the beasts[362] of death, And all the terrors angry gods invented (T'afflict the ignorance of patient man), Tremble at us; the roll'd-up snake uncurls[363] His twisted knots at our affrighting voice. Are we incensed? the king of flames[364] grows pale, Lest he be chok'd with black and earthy fumes, Which our charms raise. Be joy'd, make proud thy lust: I do not pray you, gods; my breath's, "You must."

_Sy._ Deep knowing spirit, mother of all high 140 Mysterious science, what may Syphax yield Worthy thy art, by which my soul's thus eased? The gods first made me live, but thou live pleased.

_Eri._ Know then, our love, hard by the reverent[365] ruins Of a once glorious temple rear'd to Jove, Whose very rubbish (like the pitied fall Of virtue most unfortunate) yet bears A deathless majesty, though now quite rased, Hurl'd down by wrath and lust of impious kings, So that, where holy flamens wont to sing 150 Sweet hymns to heaven, there the daw and crow, The ill-voiced raven, and still-chattering pie, Send out ungrateful sounds and loathsome filth; Where statues and Jove's acts were vively limn'd[366] Boys with black coals draw the veil'd parts of nature, And lecherous actions of imagin'd lust; Where tombs and beauteous urns of well-dead men Stood in assurèd rest, the shepherd now Unloads his belly, corruption most abhorr'd Mingling itself with their renownèd ashes: 160 Ourself quakes at it! There once a charnel-house, now a vast cave, Over whose brow a pale and untrod grove Throws out her heavy shade, the mouth thick arms Of darksome yew (sun-proof) for ever choke; Within rests barren darkness; fruitless drought Pines in eternal night; the steam of hell Yields not so lazy air: there, that's my cell; From thence a charm, which Jove dare not hear twice, Shall force her to thy bed. But, Syphax, know, 170 Love is the highest rebel to our art: Therefore I charge thee, by the fear of all Which thou know'st dreadful, or more, by ourself, As with swift haste she passeth to thy bed, And easy to thy wishes yields, speak not one word, Nor dare, as thou dost fear thy loss of joys, T'admit one light, one light.

_Sy._ As to my fate I yield my guidance.

_Eri._ Then, when I shall force The air to music, and the shades of night To form sweet sounds, make proud thy raised delight: Meantime, behold, I go a charm to rear, 181 Whose potent sound will force ourself to fear.

_Sy._ Whither is Syphax heaved? at length shall's joy Hopes more desired than heaven? Sweet labouring earth, Let heaven be unform'd with mighty charms; Let Sophonisba only fill these arms, Jove we'll not envy thee. Blood's appetite Is Syphax' god; my wisdom is my sense, Without[367] a man I hold no excellence. Give me long breath, young beds, and sickness' ease; For we hold firm, that's lawful which doth please. 191

_Infernal music, softly._

_Hark! hark! now rise infernal tones, The deep-fetch'd groans Of labouring spirits that attend Erictho._ _Erictho!_ [_within._ _Now crack the trembling earth, and send Shrieks that portend Affrightment to the gods which hear Erictho._ 200 _Erictho!_ [_within._

_A treble viol, a base lute, &c., play softly within the canopy._

Hark! hark! now softer melody strikes mute Disquiet Nature. O thou power of sound, How thou dost melt me! Hark! now even heaven Gives up his soul amongst us. Now's the time When greedy expectation strains mine eyes For their loved object; now Erictho will'd Prepare my appetite for love's strict gripes. O you dear founts of pleasure, blood, and beauty, Raise active Venus worth fruition 210 Of such provoking sweetness. Hark, she comes!

_A short song to soft music above._

Now nuptial hymns enforcèd spirits sing. Hark, Syphax, hark! Now hell and heaven rings.

CANTANT.

With music spite of Phoebus. Peace! She comes!

_Enter_ ERICTHO _in the shape of_ SOPHONISBA, _her face veiled, and hasteth in the bed of_ SYPHAX.

Fury of blood's impatient! Erictho, 'Bove thunder sit: to thee, egregious soul, Let all flesh bend. Sophonisba, thy flame But equal mine, and we'll joy such delight, That gods shall not admire, but even spite!

[SYPHAX _hasteneth within the canopy, as to_ SOPHONISBA'S _bed_.

[354] In old eds. is the direction--"_Organs, Viols, and Voices play for this Act._"

[355] Old eds. "dumps."

[356] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "justly."

[357] Enclosure.

[358] Old form of "vault."

[359] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "New graud whose entrailes yet not turne."

[360] Ed. 1. "gelled;" ed. 2. "gellid."--_Gelid_ is here preferable to the form _jellied_ that I adopted in vol. i. p. 114.

[361] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "love." (Persons born under the planet Jupiter were supposed to be of a _jovial_ disposition.)

[362] Ed. 1. "heastes."

[363] Ed. 1. "vncurlde."

[364] So Chapman in a magnificent passage of _Bussy D'Ambois_:-- "Terror of darkness, O thou _king of flames_," &c.

[365] A recognised old form of _reverend_. It occurs so frequently in this sense that it cannot be regarded as a misprint.

[366] "Vively limn'd,"--drawn to the life.

[367] "Without a man"--outside of man's senses.

## ACT V.[368]

## SCENE I.

_Bed-chamber in the palace of_ SYPHAX.

SYPHAX _draws the curtains, and discovers_ ERICTHO _lying with him_.

_Eri._ Ha! ha! ha!

_Sy._ Light, light!

_Eri._ Ha! ha!

_Sy._ Thou rotten scum of hell! O my abhorrèd heat! O loath'd delusion!

[_They leap out of the bed_; SYPHAX _takes him to his sword._

_Eri._ Why! fool of kings, could thy weak soul imagine That 'tis within the grasp of heaven or hell To enforce love? Why, know love dotes the fates, Jove groans beneath his weight: mere[369] ignorant thing, Know we, Erictho, with a thirsty womb, 10 Have coveted full threescore suns for blood of kings. We that can make enraged Neptune toss His huge curl'd locks without one breath of wind; We that can make heaven slide from Atlas' shoulder; We, in the pride and height of covetous lust, Have wish'd with woman's greediness to fill Our longing arms with Syphax' well-strung limbs: And dost thou think, if philters or hell-charms Could have enforced thy use, we would have deigned[370] Brain sleights? No, no. Now are we full 20 Of our dear wishes. Thy proud heat, well wasted, Hath made our limbs grow young! Our love, farewell! Know he that would force love, thus seeks his hell.

[ERICTHO _slips into the ground, as_ SYPHAX _offers his sword to her_.

_Sy._ Can we yet breathe? Is any plagued like me? Are we--let's think--O now contempt, my hate To thee, thy thunder, sulphur, and scorn'd name! He whose life's loath'd, and he who breathes to curse His very being,[371] let him thus with me

[SYPHAX _kneels at the altar_.

Fall 'fore an altar, sacred to black powers, And thus dare heavens! O thou whose blasting flames Hurl barren droughts upon the patient earth, 31 And thou, gay god of riddles and strange tales, Hot-brainèd Phoebus, all add if you can Something unto my misery! if aught Of plagues lurk in your deep-trench'd brows, Which yet I know not,--let them fall like bolts, Which wrathful Jove drives strong into my bosom! If any chance of war, or news ill-voiced, Mischief unthought of lurk, come, give't us all, Heap curse on curse, we can no lower fall! 40

[_Out of the altar the ghost of_ ASDRUBAL _ariseth_.

_Asd._ Lower--lower!

_Sy._ What damn'd air is form'd Into that shape? Speak, speak, we cannot quake! Our flesh knows not ignoble tremblings. Speak! We dare thy terror. Methinks hell and fate Should dread a soul with woes made desperate.

_Asd._ Know me the spirit of great Asdrubal, Father to Sophonisba, whose bad heart Made justly most unfortunate; for know, I turn'd unfaithful, after that[372] the field Chanced to our loss, when of thy men there fell 50 Six thousand souls, next fight of Libyans ten. After which loss we unto Carthage flying, Th' enragèd people cried their army fell Through my base treason. Straight my revengeful Furies[373] Makes them pursue me; I with resolute haste Made to the grave of all our ancestors, Where poisoned, hoped my bones should have long rest: But see, the violent multitude arrives, Tear down our monument, and me now dead Deny a grave; hurl us among the rocks 60 To staunch beasts' hunger; therefore thus ungraved I seek slow rest. Now dost thou know more woes, And more must feel. Mortals, O fear to slight Your gods and vows. Jove's arm is of dread might.

_Sy._ Yet speak: shall I o'ercome approaching foes?

_Asd._ Spirits of wrath know nothing but their woes.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ NUNTIUS.

_Nun._ My liege, my liege, The scouts of Cirta bring intelligence Of sudden danger; full ten thousand horse, Fresh and well-rid, strong Massinissa leads, 70 As wings to Roman legions that march swift, Led by that man of conquest, Scipio.

_Sy._ Scipio?

_Nun._ Direct to Cirta.

[_A march far off is heard._

Hark! their march is heard even to the city.

_Sy._ Help! our guard! my arms! Bid all our leaders march! beat thick alarms! I have seen things which thou wouldst quake to hear. Boldness and strength! the shame of slaves be fear. Up, heart, hold sword! though waves roll thee on shelf, Though fortune leave thee, leave not thou thyself! 81

[_Exit, arming._

[368] In old eds. is the direction--"_A Base Lute and a Treble Violl play for the Act_."

[369] "Mere ignorant"--utterly ignorant. Old eds. "_more_ ignorant."

[370] Old eds. "dam'd."

[371] Old eds. "beings."

[372] Old eds. "which."

[373] Old eds. "fury."

## SCENE II.

_Neighbourhood of Cirta._

_Enter two Pages, with targets and javelins_; LÆLIUS _and_ JUGURTH, _with halberds_; SCIPIO _and_ MASSINISSA _armed; cornets sounding a march_.

_Sci._ Stand!

_Mass._ Give the word--Stand!

_Sci._ Part the file!

_Mass._ Give way! Scipio, by thy great name, but greater virtue,-- By our eternal love, give me the chance Of this day's battle! Let not thy envied fame Vouchsafe t'oppose[374] the Roman legions Against one weakened Prince of Libya. This quarrel's mine--mine be the stroke of fight! Let us and Syphax hurl out well-forced darts Each unto other's breast. O (what should I say?) Thou beyond epithet, thou whom proud lords of fortune May even envy,--alas! my joy's so vast 11 Makes me seem lost,--let us thunder and lightning Strike from our brave arms! Look, look, seize that hill! Hark! he comes near. From thence discern us strike Fire worth Jove; mount up, and not repute Me very proud, though wondrous resolute. My cause, my cause is my bold heart'ning odds, That sevenfold shield; just arms should fright the gods.

_Sci._ Thy words are full of honour; take thy fate.

_Mass._ Which we do scorn to fear, to Scipio state 20 Worthy his heart. Now let the forcèd brass Sound on!

_Cornets sound a march._ SCIPIO _leads his train up to the mount_.

Jugurth, clasp sure our casque, Arm us with care; and Jugurth, if I fall Through this day's malice or our fathers' sins, If it in thy sword lie, break up my breast, And save my heart that never fell nor sued[375] To aught but Jove and Sophonisba. Sound, Stern heart'ners unto wounds and blood--sound loud, For we have namèd Sophonisba!

[_Cornets, a flourish._

So!

[_Cornets, a march far off._

Hark, hark, he comes! stand blood! Now multiply 31 Force more than fury. Sound high, sound high, we strike For Sophonisba!

_Enter_ SYPHAX, _arm'd, his Pages with shields and darts before; cornets sounding marches_.

_Sy._ For Sophonisba!

_Mass._ Syphax!

_Sy._ Massinissa!

_Mass._ Betwixt us two, Let single fight try all.

_Sy._ Well urged.

_Mass._ Well granted. Of you, my stars, as I am worthy you, I implore aid; and O, if angels wait Upon good hearts, my genius be as strong As I am just.

_Sy._ Kings' glory is their wrong. 40 He that may only do just acts 's a slave. My god's my arm;[376] my life my heaven; my grave To me all end.

_Mass._ Give day, gods,--life, not death,-- To him that only fears blaspheming breath. For Sophonisba!

_Sy._ For Sophonisba!

_Cornets sound a charge._ MASSINISSA _and_ SYPHAX _combat_. SYPHAX _falls_. MASSINISSA _unclasps_ SYPHAX' _casque, and is_[377] _about to kill him when_ SYPHAX _speaks_.

_Sy._ Unto thy fortune, not to thee, we yield.

_Mass._ Lives Sophonisba yet unstain'd, speak just-- Yet ours unforced?

_Sy._ Let my heart fall more low Than is my body, if only to thy glory 50 She lives not yet all thine.

_Mass._ Rise, rise! Cease strife! Hear a most deep revenge--from us take life!

_Cornets sound a march._ SCIPIO _and_ LÆLIUS _enter_. SCIPIO _passeth to his throne_. MASSINISSA _presents_ SYPHAX _to_ SCIPIO'S _feet, cornets sounding a flourish_.

To you all power of strength; and next to thee, Thou spirit of triumph, born for victory, I heave these hands. March we to Cirta straight, My Sophonisba with swift haste to win, In honour and in love all mean is sin.

[_Exeunt_ MASSINISSA _and_ JUGURTH.

_Sci._ As we are Rome's great general, thus we press Thy captive neck. But as still Scipio, And sensible of just humanity, 60 We weep thy bondage. Speak, thou ill-chanced man, What spirit took thee when thou wert our friend (Thy right hand given both to gods and us, With such most passionate vows and solemn faith), Thou fled'st with such most foul disloyalty To now weak Carthage? strengthening their bad arms, Who lately scorn'd thee with all loath'd abuse, Who never entertain for love but use?

_Sy._ Scipio, my fortune is captived, not I, Therefore I'll speak bold truth; nor once mistrust 70 What I shall say, for now, being wholly yours, I must not feign. Sophonisba, 'twas she, 'Twas Sophonisba that solicited My forced revolt; 'twas her resistless suit, Her love to her dear Carthage, 'ticed me break All faith with men; 'twas she made Syphax false; She that loves Carthage with such violence, And hath such moving graces to allure, That she will turn a man that once hath sworn Himself on's father's bones her Carthage foe, 80 To be that city's champion and high friend. Her hymeneal torch burnt down my house; Then was I captived, when her wanton arms Threw[378] moving clasps about my neck. O charms, Able to turn even Fate! But this, in my true grief, Is some just joy, that my love-sotted foe Shall seize that plague; that Massinissa's breast Her hands shall arm, and that ere long you'll try She can force him your foe as well as I.

_Sci._ Lælius, Lælius, take a choice troop of horse, 90 And spur to Cirta. To Massinissa thus: Syphax' palace, crown's spoil, city's sack, Be free to him. But if our new-leagued[379] friend Possess that woman of so moving art, Charge him with no less weight than his dear vow, Our love, all faith, that he resign her thee; As he shall answer Rome, will him[380] give up A Roman prisoner to the Senate's doom: She is a Carthaginian. Now our law's[381]-- Wise men prevent not actions, but ever cause. 100

_Sy._ Good Malice, so, as liberty so dear, Prove my revenge. What I cannot possess Another shall not--that's some happiness.

[_Exeunt, cornets flourishing._

[374] Ed. 1. "t'appose."

[375] Ed. 1. "that neuer fell nor's adue."

[376] So Mezentius in the _Æneid_, x. 772:--"Dextra mihi deus."

[377] Old eds. "_and as ready to kill him, speaks_ SYPHAX."

[378] Ed. 1. "Threw mouing claspt."--Ed. 2. "There mouing claspt."

[379] Old eds. "new laugh'd."

[380] "Will him," &c.,--order him to give up. Ed. 2. "will give him up."

[381] Perhaps we should read-- "She is a Carthaginian, 'neath our laws. Wise men," &c.

## SCENE III.

_Cirta._

_Cornets afar off sounding a charge. A soldier wounded at one door. Enter at the other_ SOPHONISBA, _two Pages before her with lights, two women bearing up her train_.

_Sol._ Princess, O fly! Syphax hath lost the day, And captived lies. The Roman legions Have seiz'd the town, and with inveterate hate Make slaves, or murder all. Fire and steel, Fury and night, hold all. Fair Queen, O fly! We bleed for Carthage, all for[382] Carthage die!

[_Exit._

_Cornets sounding a march. Enter Pages with javelins and targets._ MASSINISSA _and_ JUGURTH; MASSINISSA'S _beaver shut_.

_Mass._ March to the palace.

_So._ Whate'er man thou art, Of Libya thy fair arms speak, give heart To amazed weakness; hear her, that for long time Hath seen no wishèd light. Sophonisba, 10 A name for misery much known, 'tis she Entreats of thy graced sword this only boon:-- Let me not kneel to Rome; for though no cause Of mine deserves their hate, though Massinissa Be ours to heart, yet Roman generals Make proud their triumphs with whatever captives. O 'tis a nation which from soul I fear, As one well knowing the much-grounded hate They bear to Asdrubal and Carthage blood; Therefore with tears that wash thy feet, with hands 20 Unused to beg, I clasp thy manly knees: O save me from their fetters and contempt, Their proud insults and more than insolence! Or, if it rest not in thy grace of breath To grant such freedom, give me long-wish'd death; For 'tis not now loath'd life that we do crave,-- Only an unshamed death and silent grave, We will now deign to bend for.

_Mass._ Rarity!

[MASSINISSA _disarms his head_.

By thee and this right hand, thou shalt live free!

_So._ We cannot now be wretched.

_Mass._ Stay the sword! 30 Let slaughter cease; sounds soft as Leda's breast

[_Soft music._

Slide through all ears. This night be love's high feast.

_So._ O'erwhelm me not with sweets; let me not drink Till my breast burst, O Jove, thy nectar-skink.[383]

[_She sinks into_ MASSINISSA'S _arms_.

_Mass._ She is o'ercome with joy!

_So._ Help--help to bar[384] Some happiness, ye powers! I have joy to spare, Enough to make a god! O Massinissa!

_Mass._ Peace! A silent thinking makes full joys increase!

_Enter_ LÆLIUS.

_Læ._ Massinissa!

_Mass._ Lælius!

_Læ._ Thine ear.

_Mass._ Stand off.

_Læ._ From Scipio thus: by thy late vow of faith, 40 And mutual league of endless amity, As thou respects his virtue, or Rome's force, Deliver Sophonisba to our hand.

_Mass._ Sophonisba?

_Læ._ Sophonisba.

_So._ My lord Looks pale, and from his half-burst eyes a flame Of deep disquiet breaks. The gods turn false My sad presage!

_Mass._ Sophonisba?

_Læ._ Even she.

_Mass._ She kill'd not Scipio's father, nor his uncle, Great Cneius.

_Læ._ Carthage did!

_Mass._ To her what's Carthage?

_Læ._ Know 'twas her father Asdrubal strook[385] off 50 His father's head. Give place to faith and fate!

_Mass._ 'Tis cross to honour.

_Læ._ But 'tis just to state. So speaketh Scipio. Do not thou detain A Roman prisoner, due to this great triumph, As thou shalt answer Rome and him.

_Mass._ Lælius, We now are in Rome's power. Lælius, View Massinissa do a loathèd act, Most sinking from that state his heart did keep. Look, Lælius, look, see Massinissa weep! Know I have made a vow, more dear to me 60 Than my soul's endless being, she shall rest Free from Rome's bondage!

_Læ._ But dost thou forget Thy vow, yet fresh, thus breath'd: _When I desist To be commanded by thy virtue, Scipio, Or fall from friend of Rome, revenging gods, Afflict me with your torture!_

_Mass._ Lælius, enough.

_Læ._ Salute the Roman, tell him we will act What shall amaze him.

_Læ._ Wilt thou yield her then?

_Mass._ She shall arrive there straight.

_Læ._ Best fate of men To thee.

_Mass._ And Scipio.--Have I lived, O heavens, 70

[_Exit_ LÆLIUS _with pages._

To be enforcedly perfidious?

_So._ What unjust grief afflicts my worthy lord?

_Mass._ Thank me, ye gods, with much beholdingness; For mark, I do not curse you.

_So._ Tell me, sweet, The cause of thy much anguish.

_Mass._ Ha, the cause? Let's see: wreathe back thine arms, bend down thy neck, Practise base prayers, make fit thyself for bondage.

_So._ Bondage!

_Mass._ Bondage--Roman bondage!

_So._ No, no!

_Mass._ How then have I vow'd well to Scipio?

_So._ How then to Sophonisba?

_Mass._ Right, which way? 80 Run mad!--impossible!--distraction!

_So._ Dear lord, thy patience; let it maze all power, And list to her in whose sole heart it rests To keep thy faith upright.

_Mass._ Wilt thou be slaved?

_So._ No, free.

_Mass._ How then keep I my faith?

_So._ My death Gives help to all. From Rome so rest we free; So brought to Scipio, faith is kept in thee.

_Mass._ Thou darest not die--some wine!--thou darest not die!

_Enter a Page with a bowl of wine._

_So._ How near was I unto the curse of man. Joy! How like was I yet once to have been glad! 90 He that ne'er laugh'd may with a constant face Contemn Jove's frown: happiness makes us base.

[_She takes the bowl, into which_ MASSINISSA _puts poison_.

Behold me, Massinissa, like thyself, A king and soldier; and I prithee keep My last command.

_Mass._ Speak, sweet.

_So._ Dear, do not weep. And now with undismay'd resolve behold, To save you--you (for honour and just faith Are most true gods, which we should much adore), With even disdainful vigour I give up An abhorr'd life. You have been good to me, 100

[_She drinks._

And I do thank thee, heaven! O my stars, I bless your goodness, that with breast unstain'd, Faith pure, a virgin wife, tried to my glory, I die, of female faith the long-lived story; Secure from bondage and all servile harms, But more--most happy in my husband's arms.

[_She sinks._

_Ju._ Massinissa, Massinissa!

_Mass._ Covetous, Fame-greedy lady, could no scope of glory, No reasonable proportion of goodness, Fill thy great breast, but thou must prove immense 110 Incomprehence in virtue! What, wouldst thou Not only be admired, but even adored? O glory ripe for heaven! Sirs, help, help, help! Let us to Scipio with what speed you can; For piety make haste, whilst yet we are man.

[_Exeunt, bearing_ SOPHONISBA _in a chair_.

[382] Ed. 1. "of."

[383] So ed. 2.--Ed. 1. "O Ioue thy Nectar, thinke." ("Nectar-skink"--draught of nectar.)

[384] Old eds. "beare," but the sense clearly requires "bar" (pronounced "bear" to rhyme with "spare"). We have twice had the word "bar" spelt "beare" earlier in the present play.

[385] Ed. 2. "struck."

## SCENE IV.

_Neighbourhood of Cirta._

_Cornets a march. Enter_ SCIPIO _in full state, triumphal ornaments carried before him, and_ SYPHAX _bound; at the other door_, LÆLIUS.

_Sci._ What answers Massinissa? Will he send That Sophonisba of so moving tongue?[386]

_Læ._ Full of dismay'd unsteadiness he stood, His right hand lock'd in hers, which hand he gave As pledge for Rome she[387] ever should live free. But when I enter'd and well urged this vow And thy command, his great heart sunk with shame, His eyes lost spirit, and his heat of life Sank from his face, as one that stood benumb'd, All mazed, t'effect impossibilities; 10 For either unto her or Scipio He must break vow. Long time he toss'd his thoughts; And as you see a snow-ball being roll'd, At first a handful, yet, long bowl'd about, Insensibly acquires a mighty globe,-- So his cold grief through agitation grows, And more he thinks, the more of grief he knows. At last he seem'd to yield her.

_Sy._ Mark, Scipio! Trust him that breaks a vow?

_Sci._ How then trust thee? 19

_Sy._ O, misdoubt him not, when he's thy slave like me.

_Enter_ MASSINISSA, _all in black_.

_Mass._ Scipio!

_Sci._ Massinissa!

_Mass._ General!

_Sci._ King!

_Mass._ Lives there no mercy for one soul of Carthage, But must see baseness?

_Sci._ Wouldst thou joy thy peace, Deliver Sophonisba straight and cease; Do not grasp that which is too hot to hold. We grace thy grief, and hold it with soft sense; Enjoy good courage, but 'void insolence. I tell thee Rome and Scipio deign to bear So low a breast as for her say--we fear.

_Mass._ Do not, do not; let not the fright of nations 30 Know so vile terms. She rests at thy dispose.

_Sy._ To my soul['s] joy. Shall Sophonisba then With me go bound, and wait on Scipio's wheel? When th' whole world's giddy, one man cannot reel.

_Mass._ Starve thy lean hopes; and, Romans, now behold A sight would sad the gods, make Phoebus cold.

_Organ and recorders play to a single voice. Enter in the meantime the mournful solemnity of_ MASSINISSA'S _presenting_ SOPHONISBA'S _body_.

Look, Scipio, see what hard shift we make To keep our vows. Here, take, I yield her thee; And Sophonisba, I keep vow, thou'rt still free.

_Sy._ Burst, my vex'd heart: the torture that most racks 40 An enemy is his foe's royal acts.

_Sci._ The glory of thy virtue live for ever; Brave hearts may be obscured, but extinct never.

[SCIPIO _adorns_ MASSINISSA.

Take from the general of Rome this crown, This robe of triumph, and this conquest's wreath, This sceptre and this hand; for ever breathe Rome's very minion. Live worth thy fame, As far from faintings as from now base name.

_Mass._ Thou whom, like sparkling steel, the strokes of chance Made hard and firm, and, like[388] wild-fire turn'd, 50 The more cold fate, the more thy virtue burn'd, And in whole seas of miseries didst flame; On thee, loved creature of a deathless fame,

[MASSINISSA _adorns_ SOPHONISBA.

Rest all my honour! O thou for whom I drink So deep of grief, that he must only think, Not dare to speak, that would express my woe; Small rivers murmur, deep gulfs silent flow. My grief is here,[389] not here: heave gently then, Women's right wonder, and just shame of men.

[_Exeunt all but_ MASSINISSA.

_Cornets a short flourish._

[386] Ed. 2. "tongues."

[387] Ed. 1. "he."

[388] Ed. 2. "like to wild fire." (As the line stands, "firm" is equivalent to a dissyllable.)

[389] _i.e._, in my heart, not my eyes.

EPILOGUS.

_Mass._ And[390] now With lighter passion, though with most just fear, I change my person, and do hither bear Another's voice, who with a phrase as weak As his deserts, now will'd me (thus form'd[391]) speak: If words well sensed, best suiting subject grave, Noble true story, may once boldly crave Acceptance gracious; if he whose fires Envy not others, nor himself admires; If scenes exempt from ribaldry or rage 10 Of taxings indiscreet, may please the stage;-- If such may hope applause, he not commands, Yet craves as due the justice of your hands. But freely he protests, howe'er it is-- Or well, or ill, or much, not much amiss-- With constant modesty he does submit To all, save those that have more tongue than wit.[392]

[390] "And now ... fear." Printed as one line in ed. 1. Ed. 2. reads, "And now with lighter passion, though just feare."

[391] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "will'd me for him speake."

[392] In ed. 1. is added the following note:--"After all, let me intreat my Reader not to taxe me for the fashion of the Entrances and Musique of this tragedy, for know it is printed only as it was presented by youths, and after the fashion of the private stage. Nor let some easily amended errors in the Printing afflict thee, since thy owne discourse will easily set vpright any such vneuennes."

WHAT YOU WILL.

_What Yov Will. By Iohn Marston. Imprinted at London by G. Eld, for Thomas Thorppe._ 1607. 4to.

STORY OF THE PLAY.

Albano, a rich Venetian merchant, is reported to have been drowned at sea; whereupon his wife, Celia, is beset with suitors, and her choice falls upon a French knight, Laverdure. Jacomo, a disappointed suitor, plots with Albano's brothers, Andrea and Randolfo, to disturb the match, and for this purpose they disguise Francisco, a perfumer, in the habiliments of Albano; but the plot is detected by Laverdure's page, Bidet, who communicates the discovery to his master. The true Albano now arrives upon the scene, and encountering Laverdure, is accosted as Francisco, and is told that the plot has been discovered. Laverdure leaves him in a distraction of rage and amazement, which is not lessened when Jacomo and his own brothers approach and congratulate him on his powers of deception. A meeting between Albano and the disguised Francisco presently ensues. While Celia is entertaining her friends, Albano and Francisco clamour for admittance. Laverdure had told Celia (and the news had been spread abroad) that he intended to disguise a fiddler in the likeness of Albano as a foil to the disguised perfumer. When Albano and Francisco appear, Celia imagines that one is the fiddler and the other the perfumer. The true Albano and the counterfeit Albano, after engaging in a lively skirmish, declare that they will appeal to the Duke. When they retire Laverdure protests that he knows nothing of the new claimant, but his words are disregarded. The rivals appeal to the Duke, and the mystery is quickly solved when Albano, taking Celia aside, shows her a secret mark on his person, and reminds her of words that he had spoken on a certain memorable occasion.

INDUCTION.

_Before the music sounds for the Act, enter_ ATTICUS, DORICUS, _and_ PHILOMUSE; _they sit a good while on the stage before the candles are lighted, talking together, and on sudden_ DORICUS _speaks_.

_Enter Tireman with lights._

_Dor._ O fie, some lights! Sirs, fie! let there be no deeds of darkness done among us. Ay,--so, so, prithee, Tireman, set Signior Snuff a-fire: he's a choleric gentleman; he will take pepper in the nose[393] instantly; fear not. 'Fore heaven, I wonder they tolerate him so near the stage.

_Phi._ Faith, Doricus, thy brain boils; keel[394] it, keel it, or all the fat's in the fire; in the name of Phoebus, what merry genius haunts thee to-day? Thy lips play with feathers. 10

_Dor._ Troth, they should pick straws before they should be idle.

_Atti._ But why--but why dost thou wonder they dare suffer Snuff so near the stage?

_Dor._ O, well recall'd; marry, Sir Signior Snuff, Monsieur Mew, and Cavaliero Blirt, are three of the most-to-be-fear'd auditors that ever----

_Phi._ Pish! for shame! stint thy idle chat.

_Dor._ Nay, dream whatsoe'er your fantasy swims on, Philomuse; I protest, in the love you have procured me to bear your friend the author, I am vehemently fearful this threefold halter of contempt that chokes the breath of wit, these aforesaid _tria sunt omnia_, knights of the mew,[395] will sit heavy on the skirts of his scenes, if---- 24

_Phi._ If what? Believe it, Doricus, his spirit Is higher blooded than to quake and pant At the report of Scoff's artillery. Shall he be crest-fall'n, if some looser brain, In flux of wit uncivilly befilth His slight composures? Shall his bosom faint, 30 If drunken Censure belch out sour breath From Hatred's surfeit on his labour's front? Nay, say some half a dozen rancorous breasts Should plant themselves on purpose to discharge Imposthum'd malice on his latest scene, Shall his resolve be struck through with the blirt Of a goose-breath? What imperfect-born, What short-liv'd meteor, what cold-hearted snow Would melt in dolour, cloud his mudded eyes, Sink down his jaws, if that some juiceless husk, 40 Some boundless ignorance, should on sudden shoot His gross-knobb'd burbolt[396] with--"That's not so good; Mew, blirt, ha, ha, light chaffy stuff!" Why, gentle spirits, what loose-waving vane, What anything, would thus be screw'd about With each slight touch of odd phantasmatas? No, let the feeble palsey'd lamer joints Lean on opinion's crutches; let the----

_Dor._ Nay, nay, nay. Heaven's my hope, I cannot smooth this strain; 50 Wit's death, I cannot. What a leprous humour Breaks from rank swelling of these bubbling wits? Now out upon't, I wonder what tight brain, Wrung in this custom to maintain contempt 'Gainst common censure;[397] to give stiff counter-buffs, To crack rude scorn even on the very face Of better audience. Slight, is't not odious? Why, hark you, honest, honest Philomuse (You that endeavour to endear our thoughts To the composer's spirit), hold this firm: 60 Music and poetry were first approved By common sense; and that which pleasèd most, Held most allowèd pass: know,[398] rules of art Were shaped to pleasure, not pleasure to your rules; Think you, if that his scenes took stamp in mint Of three or four deem'd most judicious, It must enforce the world to current them, That you must spit defiance on dislike? Now, as I love the light, were I to pass Through public verdict, I should fear my form, 70 Lest ought I offer'd were unsquared or warp'd. The more we know, the more we want: What Bayard[399] bolder than the ignorant? Believe me, Philomuse, i'faith thou must, The best, best seal of wit is wit's distrust.

_Phi._ Nay, gentle Doricus.

_Dor._ I'll hear no more of him; nay, and your friend the author, the composer, the _What You Will_, seems so fair in his own glass, so straight in his own measure, that he talks once of squinting critics, drunken censure, splay-footed opinion, juiceless husks, I ha' done with him, I ha' done with him. 82

_Phi._ Pew, nay then----

_Dor._ As if any such unsanctified stuff could find a being 'mong these ingenuous breasts.

_Atti._ Come, let pass, let pass; let's see what stuff must clothe our ears. What's the play's name?

_Phi._ _What You Will._

_Dor._ Is't comedy, tragedy, pastoral, moral, nocturnal, or history? 90

_Phi._ Faith, perfectly neither, but even _What You Will_,--a slight toy, lightly composed, too swiftly finish'd, ill plotted, worse written, I fear me worst acted, and indeed _What You Will_.

_Dor._ Why, I like this vein well now.

_Atti._ Come, we strain the spectators' patience in delaying their expected delights. Let's place ourselves within the curtains, for good faith the stage is so very little, we shall wrong the general eye else very much.

_Phi._ If you'll stay but a little, I'll accompany you; I have engaged myself to the author to give a kind of inductive speech to his comedy. 102

_Atti._ Away! you neglect yourself, a gentleman----

_Phi._ Tut, I have vow'd it; I am double charged; go off as 'twill, I'll set fire to it.

_Dor._ I'll not stand it; may chance recoil, and be not stuffed with saltpetre: well, mark the report; mark the report.

_Phi._ Nay, prithee stay; 'slid the female presence, the Genteletza, the women will put me out. 110

_Dor._ And they strive to put thee out, do thou endeavour to put them.

_Atti._ In good faith, if they put thee out of countenance, put them out of patience, and hew their ears with hacking imperfect utterance.

_Dor._ Go, stand to it; show thyself a tall man of thy tongue; make an honest leg; put off thy cap with discreet carriage: and so we leave thee to the kind gentlemen and most respected auditors.

[_Exeunt, all but_ PHILOMUSE.

[393] "_Se courroucer._ To fret, fume, chafe, be angrie, _take_ pet, or _pepper in the nose_."--_Cotgrave._

[394] See note, vol. i. p. 77.

[395] Cat-calls.--See Middleton, iv. 9.

[396] A short blunt arrow, for killing birds without piercing them.

[397] Judgment.--Marston is here plainly referring to the truculent attitude assumed by Ben Jonson towards the audience.

[398] Old eds. "not."

[399] "As bold as blind bayard" was a proverb (as old as Chaucer) applied to those who do not look before they leap. In R. B.'s _Appius and Virginia_, 1575, we have:--"As bold as blind bayard, as wise as a woodcock." _Bayard_ was the name for a bay-horse.

PROLOGUS.

Nor labours he the favour of the rude, Nor offers sops unto the Stygian dog, To force a silence in his viperous tongues; Nor cares he to insinuate the grace Of loath'd detraction, nor pursues the love Of the nice critics of this squeamish age; Nor strives he to bear up with every sail Of floating censure; nor once dreads or cares What envious hand his guiltless muse hath struck; Sweet breath from tainted stomachs who can suck? But to the fair proportion'd loves of wit, 11 To the just scale of even, paizèd[400] thoughts; To those that know the pangs of bringing forth A perfect feature; to their gentle minds, That can as soon slight of as find a blemish; To those, as humbly low as to their feet, I am obliged to bend--to those his muse Makes solemn honour for their wish'd delight. He vows industrious sweat shall pale his cheek, But he'll gloss up sleek objects for their eyes; 20 For those he is asham'd his best's too bad. A silly subject, too too[401] simply clad, Is all his present, all his ready pay For many debts. Give further day.[402] I'll give a proverb,--Sufferance giveth ease: So you may once be paid, we once may please.

[_Exit._

[400] Balanced.--Perhaps we should read "even-paizèd."

[401] Sometimes written "too-too" (a strengthened form of _too_), but quite as often printed as two separate words. I have followed the old copies.

[402] "Give further day" = allow the day of payment to be deferred. Cf. Middleton, ii. 337.

_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._

_Duke of Venice._ ALBANO, _a merchant_. JACOMO, _in love with_ CELIA. ANDREA, } RANDOLFO, } _brothers to_ ALBANO. QUADRATUS. LAVERDURE, _a Frenchman_. LAMPATHO DORIA. SIMPLICIUS FABER. FRANCISCO, _a perfumer_. PHILUS, _page to_ JACOMO. BIDET, _page to_ LAVERDURE. SLIP, _page to_ ALBANO. HOLOFERNES PIPPO, _page to_ SIMPLICIUS. _A Schoolmaster._ BATTUS, } NOUS, } _schoolboys_. NATHANIEL, } SLIP, } NOOSE, } TRIP, } _pages_. DOIT, }

CELIA, _wife to_ ALBANO. MALETZA, _sister to_ CELIA. LYZABETTA. LUCIA, _waiting-woman to_ CELIA.

THE SCENE--VENICE.

WHAT YOU WILL.

## ACT I.

## SCENE I.

_A Street._

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, PHILUS _following him with a lute; a Page going before_ QUADRATUS _with a torch._

_Phi._ O, I beseech you, sir, reclaim his wits; My master's mad, stark mad, alas! for love.

_Qua._ For love? Nay, and he be not mad for hate, 'Tis amiable fortune. I tell thee, youth, Right rare and geason.[403] Strange? Mad for love! O show me him; I'll give him reasons straight-- So forcible, so all invincible, That it shall drag love out. Run mad for love? What mortally exists, on which our hearts Should be enamoured with such passion? 10 For love! Come, Philus; come, I'll change his fate; Instead of love, I'll make him mad for hate. But, troth, say what strain's his madness of?

_Phi._ Fantastical.

_Qua._ Immure him; sconce him; barricado him in't, Fantastical mad! thrice blessèd heart! Why hark, good Philus (O that thy narrow sense Could but contain me now!), all that exists, Takes valuation from opinion, A giddy minion now. Pish! thy taste is dull, 20 And canst not relish me. Come; where's Jacomo?

_Enter_ JACOMO, _unbraced, and careless dressed._

_Phi._ Look, where he comes. O map of boundless woe!

_Jaco._ Yon gleam is day; darkness, sleep, and fear, Dreams, and the ugly visions of the night, Are beat to hell by the bright palm of light; Now roams the swain, and whistles up the morn: Deep silence breaks; all things start up with light, Only my heart, that endless night and day, Lies bed-rid, crippled by coy Celia.[404]

_Qua._ There's a strain, law. 30 Nay, now I see he's mad most palpable; He speaks like a player: ha! poetical.

_Jaco._ The wanton spring lies dallying with the earth, And pours fresh blood in her decayèd veins; Look how the new-sapp'd branches are in child With tender infants! how the sun draws out, And shapes their moisture into thousand forms Of sprouting buds! all things that show or breathe Are now instaur'd,[405] saving my wretched breast, That is eternally congeal'd with ice 40 Of frozed despair. O Celia! coy, too nice!

_Qua._ Still, sans question, mad?

_Jaco._ O where doth piety and pity rest?

_Qua._ Fetch cords; he's irrecoverable; mad, rank mad. He calls for strange chimeras, fictions, That have no being since the curse of death Was thrown on man. Pity and piety, Who'll deign converse with them? Alas! vain head, Pity and piety are long since dead.

_Jaco._ Ruin to chance, and all that strive to stand 50 Like swoll'n Colossus on her tottering base! Fortune is blind--

_Qua._ You lie! you lie! None but a madman would term fortune blind. How can she see to wound desert so right, Just in the speeding-place?[406] to girt lewd brows With honor'd wreath? Ha! Fortune blind? Away! How can she, hood-wink'd, then so rightly see To starve rich worth and glut iniquity?

_Jaco._ O love!

_Qua._ Love! Hang love. It is the abject outcast of the world. 60 Hate all things; hate the world, thyself, all men; Hate knowledge; strive not to be over-wise: It drew destruction into Paradise. Hate honor, virtue; they are baits That 'tice men's hopes to sadder fates. Hate beauty: every ballad-monger Can cry his idle foppish humour. Hate riches: wealth's a flattering Jack; Adores to face, mews 'hind thy back. He that is poor is firmly sped; 70 He never shall be flatterèd. All things are error, dirt and nothing, Or pant with want, or gorged to loathing. Love only hate, affect no higher Than praise of Heaven, wine, a fire. Suck up thy days in silent breath, When their snuff's out, come Signior Death. Now, sir, adieu, run mad and wilt;[407] The worst is this, my rhyme's but spilt.

_Jaco._ Thy rhymes are spilt! who would not run rank mad, 80 To see a wandering Frenchman rival, nay, Outstrip my suit? He kiss'd my Celia's cheek.

_Qua._ Why, man, I saw my dog even kiss thy Celia's lips.

_Jaco._ To-morrow morn they go to wed.

_Qua._ Well then I know Whither to-morrow night they go.

_Jaco._ Say quick.

_Qua._ To bed.

_Jaco._ I will invoke the Triple Hecate, Make charms as potent as the breath of fate, 90 But I'll confound the match!

_Qua._ Nay, then, good day; And you be conjuring once, I'll slink away.

[_Exit_ QUADRATUS.

_Jaco._ Boy, could not Orpheus make the stones to dance?

_Phi._ Yes, sir.

_Jaco._ By'r Lady, a sweet touch. Did he not bring Eurydice out of hell with his lute?

_Phi._ So they say, sir.

_Jaco._ And thou canst bring Celia's head out of the window with thy lute. Well, hazard thy breath. Look, sir, here's a ditty. 100 'Tis foully writ, slight wit, cross'd here and there, But where thou find'st a blot, there fall a tear.

_The Song._

Fie! peace, peace, peace! it hath no passion in't. O melt thy breath in fluent softer tunes, That every note may seem to trickle down Like sad distilling tears, and make--O God! That I were but a poet, now t' express my thoughts, Or a musician but to sing my thoughts, Or anything but what I am.--Sing't o'er once more, My grief's a boundless sea that hath no shore. 110

[_He sings, and is answered; from above a willow_[408] _garland is flung down, and the song ceaseth._

Is this my favour? Am I crown'd with scorn? Then thus I manumit my slaved condition. Celia, but hear me execrate thy love. By Heaven, that once was conscious of my love; By all that is, that knows my all was thine, I will pursue with detestation; Thwart with outstretchèd[409] vehemence of hate, Thy wishèd Hymen! I will craze my brain, But I'll[410] dissever all. Thy hopes unite: What rage so violent as love turn'd spite! 120

_Enter_ RANDOLFO _and_ ANDREA, _with a supplication, reading._

_Ran._ _Humbly complaining, kissing the hands of your excellence, your poor orators_ RANDOLFO _and_ ANDREA _beseecheth, forbidding of the dishonour'd match of their niece_ CELIA, _widow, to their brother----_

O 'twill do; 'twill do; it cannot choose but do.

_And._ What should one say?--what should one do now? Umph! If she do match with yon same wand'ring knight, She's but undone; her estimation, wealth----

_Jaco._ Nay, sir, her estimation's mounted up. She shall be ladied and sweet-madam'd now. 130

_Ran._ Be ladied? Ha! ha! O, could she but recall The honour'd port of her deceasèd love! But think whose wife she was! God wot no knight's, But one (that title off) was even a prince, A Sultan Solyman. Thrice was he made, In dangerous arms, Venice providetore.

_And._ He was a merchant; but so bounteous, Valiant, wise, learned, all so absolute, That naught was valued praiseful excellent, But in it was he most praiseful excellent. 140

_Jaco._ O, I shall ne'er forget how he went clothed. He would maintain 't a base ill-usèd fashion To bind a merchant to the sullen habit Of precise black; chiefly in Venice state, Where merchants gilt the top; And therefore should you have him pass the bridge Up the Rialto like a soldier (As still he stood a potestate at sea).

_Ran._ In a black beaver felt, ash-colour plain, A Florentine cloth-of-silver jerkin, sleeves 150 White satin cut on tinsel, then long stock.[411]

_Jaco._ French panes[412] embroider'd, goldsmith's work, O God! Methinks I see him now how he would walk; With what a jolly presence he would pace Round the Rialto.[413] Well, he's soon forgot; A straggling sir in his rich bed must sleep, Which if I cannot cross I'll curse and weep. Shall I be plain as truth? I love your sister: My education, birth, and wealth deserves her. I have no cross, no rub to stop my suit; 160 But Laverdure's a knight: that strikes all mute.

_And._ Ay, there's the devil, she must be ladied now.

_Jaco._ O ill-nursed custom! No sooner is the wealthy merchant dead, His wife left great in fair possessions, But giddy rumour grasps it 'twixt his teeth, And shakes it 'bout our ears. Then thither flock A rout of crazèd fortunes, whose crack'd states Gape to be solder'd up by the rich mass Of the deceased labours; and now and then 170 The troop of "I beseech," and "I protest," And "Believe it, sweet," is mix'd with two or three Hopeful, well-stock'd, neat clothèd citizens.

_Ran._ But as we see the son of a divine Seldom proves preacher, or a lawyer's son Rarely a pleader (for they strive to run A various fortune from their ancestors), So 'tis right geason[414] for the merchant's widow To be the citizen's loved second spouse.

_Jaco._ Variety of objects please us still; 180 One dish, though ne'er so cook'd, doth quickly fill, When diverse cates the palate's sense delight, And with fresh taste creates new appetite; Therefore my widow she cashiers the blacks,[415] Forswears, turns off the furr'd-gowns, and surveys The beadroll of her suitors, thinks and thinks, And straight her questing thoughts springs up a knight; Have after then amain, the game's a-foot, The match clapp'd up; tut, 'tis the knight must do't!

_Ran._ Then must my pretty peat[416] be fann'd and coach'd? 190

_Jaco._ Muff'd, mask'd, and ladied, with "my more than most sweet madam!" But how long doth this perfume of sweet madam last? Faith, 'tis but a wash scent. My riotous sir Begins to crack jests on his lady's front, Touches her new-stamp'd gentry, takes a glut, Keeps out, abandons home, and spends and spends, Till stock be melted; then, sir, takes up[417] here, Takes up there, till nowhere ought is left. Then for the Low Countries, hey for the French! And so (to make up rhyme) good night, sweet wench.

_Ran._ By blessedness we'll stop this fatal lot. 201

_Jaco._ But how? But how?

_Ran._ Why, stay, let's think a plot.

_And._ Was not Albano Beletzo honourable-rich?

_Ran._ Not peer'd in Venice, for birth, fortune, love.

_And._ Tis scarce three months since fortune gave him dead.

_Ran._ In the black fight in the Venetian gulf.

_And._ You hold a truth.

_Ran._ Now what a giglet[418] is this Celia?

_And._ To match so sudden, so unworthily?

_Ran._ Why, she might have----

_And._ Who might not Celia have? 210 The passionate enamour'd Jacomo.

_Jaco._ The passionate enamour'd Jacomo!

_And._ Of honour'd lineage, and not meanly rich.

_Ran._ The sprightful Piso; the great Florentine, Aurelius Tuber.

_And._ And to leave these all, And wed a wand'ring knight, Sir Laverdure, A God knows what!

_Ran._ Brother, she shall not. Shall our blood be mongrell'd With the corruption of a straggling French?

_And._ Saint Mark, she shall not. 220 She[419] shall not, brother, by our father's soul.

_Ran._ Good day.

_Jaco._ Wish me good day? It stands in idle stead; My Celia's lost! all my good days are dead!

[_The cornets sound a flourish._

Hark: Lorenzo Celso, the loose Venice Duke Is going to bed; 'tis now a forward morn, For he take rest. O strange transformèd sight, When princes make night day, the day their night!

_And._ Come, we'll petition him.

_Jaco._ Away! Away! He scorns all plaints; makes jest of serious suit. 230

_Ran._ Fall out as 'twill, I am resolved to do't.

[_The cornets sound._

_Enter the_ Duke _coupled with a_ Lady; _two couples more with them, the men having tobacco-pipes in their hands, the women sit; they dance a round. The petition is delivered up by_ RANDOLFO; _the_ Duke _lights his tobacco-pipe with it, and goes out dancing_.

_Ran._ Saint Mark! Saint Mark!

_Jaco._ Did not I tell you? lose no more rich time; What can one get but mire from a swine?

_And._ Let's work a cross; we'll fame it all about The Frenchman's gelded.

_Ran._ O that's absolute.

_Jaco._ Fie on't! Away! She knows too well 'tis false. I fear it too well. No, no, I have't will strongly do't. Who knows Francisco Soranza?

_Ran._ Pish! pish! Why, what of him? 240

_Jaco._ Is he not wondrous like your deceased kinsman, Albano?

_And._ Exceedingly; the strangest, nearly like In voice, in gesture, face, in----

_Ran._ Nay, he hath Albano's imperfection too, And stuts[420] when he is vehemently moved.

_Jaco._ Observe me, then; him would I have disguised, Most perfect, like Albano; giving out, Albano saved by swimming (as in faith 'Tis known he swome most strangely): rumour him 250 This morn arrived in Venice, here to lurk, As having heard the forward nuptials; T' observe his wife's most infamous lewd haste, And to revenge----

_Ran._ I have't, I have't, I have't; 'twill be invincible.

_Jaco._ By this means now some little time we catch For better hopes, at least disturb the match.

_And._ I'll to Francisco.

_Ran._ Brother Adrian, You have our brother's picture; shape him to it. 259

_And._ Precise in each point:[421] tush, tush! fear it not.

_Ran._ Saint Mark then prosper once our hopeful plot!

_Jaco._ Good souls, good day; I have not slept last night; I'll take a nap: then pell-mell broach all spite.

[_Exeunt._

[403] "Rare.--Rare, seld, unusuall, _geason_."--_Cotgrave._ (Spenser has the word more than once. The derivation is uncertain.)

[404] Old eds. "Lucea."

[405] Repaired, renovated.

[406] "_Id est_, in the place _where a wound is fatal_. Tharsalio, in the _Widow's Tears_ of Chapman, says:--'I have given't him i' th' _speeding-place_ for all his confidence.'"--_Dilke._

[407] Old eds. "'twilt."

[408] The appropriate garland for forsaken lovers.

[409] Old eds. "thwart without stretched."

[410] Old eds. "all."

[411] Stockings drawn above the knee.

[412] Squares of coloured silk or velvet inserted in a garment.

[413] "To judge of the liberality of these notions of dress, we must advert to the days of Gresham and the consternation which a Phenomenon habited like a merchant here described would have excited among the flat round caps, and cloth stockings, upon Change, when those 'original arguments or tokens of a citizen's vocation were in fashion, not more for thrift and usefulness than for distinction and grace.' The blank uniformity to which all professional distinctions in apparel have been long hastening is one instance of the Decay of Symbols among us, which, whether it has contributed or not to make us a more intellectual, has certainly made us a less imaginative people. Shakespeare knew the force of signs:--'a malignant and a turban'd Turk.' 'This meal-cap miller,' says the author of _God's Revenge against Murder_, to express his indignation at the atrocious outrage committed by the miller Pierot upon the person of the fair Marieta."--_Charles Lamb._

[414] See note, p. 331.

[415] Mourning robes.

[416] Pet. ("A pretty _peat_."--_Taming of the Shrew_, i. 1.)

[417] _Takes up commodities_,--gets goods on credit.

[418] Wanton.

[419] Old eds. give this line to Jacomo and read:--"She shall not, fathers, by our brother souls."

[420] Stutters.

[421] The old editions read:--"Precise in each _but Tassell_, feare it not."

## ACT II.

## SCENE I.

LAVERDURE's _lodging_.

_One knocks:_ LAVERDURE _draws the curtains, sitting on his bed, apparelling himself; his trunk of apparel standing by him._

_Lav._ Ho! Bidet, lackey.

_Enter_ BIDET, _with water and a towel._

_Bid._ Signior.

_Lav._ See who knocks. Look, you boy; peruse their habits; return perfect notice. La la, ly ro!

[_Exit_ BIDET, _and returns presently._

_Bid._ Quadratus.

_Lav._ Quadratus, _mon Dieu, ma vie!_ I lay not at my lodging to-night. I'll not see him now, on my soul: he's in his old perpetuana[422] suit. I am not within.

_Bid._ He is fair, gallant, rich, neat as a bridegroom, fresh as a new-minted sixpence; with him Lampatho Doria, Simplicius Faber. 11

_Lav._ And in good clothes?

_Bid._ Accoutred worthy a presence.

_Lav._ _Uds so:_ my gold-wrought waistcoat and nightcap! Open my trunk: lay my richest suit on the top, my velvet slippers, cloth-of-gold gamashes:[423] where are my cloth-of-silver hose? lay them----

_Bid._ At pawn, sir.

_Lav._ No, sir; I do not bid you lay them at pawn, sir.

_Bid._ No, sir, you need not, for they are there already.

_Lav._ _Mor du, garzone!_ Set my richest gloves, garters, hats, just in the way of their eyes. So let them in; observe me with all duteous respect: let them in. 23

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO DORIA, _and_ SIMPLICIUS FABER.

_Qua._ Phoebus, Phoebe, sun, moon, and seven stars, make thee the dilling[424] of fortune, my sweet Laverdure, my rich French blood. Ha, ye dear rogue, hast any pudding[425] tobacco?

_Lam._ Good morrow, signor.

_Sim._ Monsieur Laverdure, do you see that gentleman? He goes but in black satin, as you see, but, by Helicon! he hath a cloth of tissue wit. He breaks a jest; ha, he'll rail against the court till the gallants--O God! he is very nectar; if you but sip of his love, you were immortal. I must needs make you known to him; I'll induce your love with dear regard. Signior Lampatho, here is a French gentleman, Monsieur Laverdure, a traveller, a beloved of Heaven, courts your acquaintance.

_Lam._ Sir, I protest[426] I not only take distinct notice of your dear rarities of exterior presence, but also I protest I am most vehemently enamour'd, and very passionately dote on your inward adornments and liabilities of spirit! I protest I shall be proud to do you most obsequious vassalage. 43

_Qua._ [_Aside._] Is not this rare, now? Now, by Gorgon's head, I gape, and am struck stiff in wonderment At sight of these strange beasts. Yon[427] chamlet[428] youth, Simplicius Faber, that hermaphrodite, _Party_[429] _per pale_, that bastard mongrel soul, Is nought but admiration and applause Of yon[430] Lampatho Doria, a fusty cask, 50 Devote to mouldy customs of hoary eld; Doth he but speak, "O tones of heaven itself!" Doth he once write, "O Jesu admirable!" Cries out Simplicius. Then Lampatho spits, And says, "faith 'tis good." But, O, to mark yon thing Sweat to unite acquaintance to his friend, Labour his praises, and endear his worth With titles all as formally trick'd forth As the cap of a dedicatory epistle. Then, sir, to view Lampatho: he protests, 60 Protests and vows such sudden heat of love, That O 'twere warmth enough of mirth to dry The stintless tears[431] of old Heraclitus,-- Make Niobe to laugh!

_Lam._ I protest I shall be proud to give you proof I hold a most religious affiance with your love.

_Lav._ Nay, gentle signior.

_Lam._ Let me not live else. I protest I will strain my utmost sinews in strengthening your precious estimate; I protest I will do all rights in all good offices that friendship can touch, or amplest virtue deserve. 71

_Qua._ I protest, believe him not; I'll beg thee, Laverdure, For a conceal'd idiot,[432] if thou credit him; He's a hyena,[433] and with civet scent Of perfumed words, draws to make a prey For laughter of thy credit. O this hot crackling love, That blazeth on an instant, flames me out On the least puff of kindness, with "protest, protest!" Catzo, I dread these hot protests, that press, Come on so fast. No, no! away, away! 80 You are a common friend, or will betray. Let me clip amity that's got with suit; I hate this whorish love that's prostitute.

_Lav._ Horn on my tailor! could he not bring home My satin taffeta or tissue suit, But I must needs be cloth'd in woollen thus? Bidet, what says he for my silver hose, And primrose satin doublet? God's my life! Gives he no more observance to my body?

_Lam._ O, in that last suit, gentle Laverdure, 90 Visit my lodging. By Apollo's front, Do but inquire my name. O straight they'll say, Lampatho suits himself in such a hose.

_Sim._ Mark that, Quadratus.

_Lam._ Consorts himself with such a doublet.

_Sim._ Good, good, good! O Jesu! admirable.

_Lav._ La la, ly ro, sir!

_Lam._ O Pallas! Quadratus, hark! hark! A most complete phantasma, a most ridiculous humour; prithee shoot him through and through with a jest; make him lie by the lee, thou basilisco[434] of wit. 101

_Sim._ O Jesu! admirably well spoken; angelical tongue!

_Qua._ Gnathonical coxcomb!

_Lam._ Nay, prithee, fut, fear not, he's no edge-tool; you may jest with him.

_Sim._ No edge-tool. Oh!

_Qua._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Sim._ Tones of heaven itself.

_Qua._ By blessedness, I thought so.

_Lam._ Nay, when?[435] when? 110

_Qua._ Why, thou pole-head![436] thou Janus! thou poltroon! thou protest! thou earwig that wrigglest into men's brains! thou dirty cur, that bemirest with thy fawning! thou----

_Lam._ Obscure me! or----

_Qua._ Signior Laverdure, by the heart of an honest man, this Jebusite--this, confusion to him! this worse than I dare to name--abuseth thee most incomprehensibly. Is this your protest of most obsequious vassalage? Protest to strain your utmost sum, your most---- 120

_Lam._ So Phoebus warm my brain, I'll rhyme thee dead. Look for the satire: if all the sour juice Of a tart brain can souse thy estimate, I'll pickle thee.

_Qua._ Ha! he mount Chirall[437] on the wings of fame! A horse! a horse! My kingdom for a horse![438] Look thee, I speak play-scraps. Bidet, I'll down, Sing, sing, or stay, we'll quaff, or anything. Rivo,[439] Saint Mark, let's talk as loose as air; Unwind youth's colours, display ourselves, 130 So that yon envy-starvèd cur may yelp And spend his chaps at our fantasticness.

_Sim._ O Lord, Quadratus!

_Qua._ Away, idolater! Why, you Don Kynsader![440] Thou canker-eaten rusty cur! thou snaffle To freer spirits! Think'st thou, a libertine, an ungyved breast, Scorns not the shackles of thy envious clogs? You will traduce us unto public scorn?

_Lam._ By this hand I will. 140

_Qua._ A foutra for thy hand, thy heart, thy brain! Thy hate, thy malice, envy, grinning spite! Shall a free-born, that holds antipathy----

_Lam._ Antipathy!

_Qua._ Ay, antipathy, a native hate Unto the curse of man, bare-pated servitude, Quake at the frowns of a ragg'd satirist-- A scrubbing railer, whose coarse, harden'd fortune, Grating his hide, galling his starvèd ribs, Sits howling at desert's more battle fate[441]-- Who out of dungeon of his black despairs, 150 Scowls at the fortune of the fairer merit.

_Lav._ Tut, via! Let all run glib and square.

_Qua._ Uds fut! He coggs and cheats your simpler thoughts, My spleen's a-fire in the heat of hate; I bear these gnats that hum about our ears, And blister[442] our credits in obscured shades.

_Lav._ Pewte bougra! La, la, la! Tit! Shaugh! Shall I forbear to caper, sing, or vault? To wear fresh clothes, or wear perfumèd sweets? To trick my face, or glory in my fate? 160 T' abandon natural propensitudes? My fancy's humour?--for a stiff jointed, Tatter'd, nasty, taber-fac'd----Puh, la, la, ly ro!

_Qua._ Now, by thy lady's cheek, I honour thee, My rich free blood. O my dear libertine! I could suck the juice, the sirrup of thy lip, For thy most generous thought!--my Elysium!

_Lam._ O, sir, you are so square, you scorn reproof.

_Qua._ No, sir; should discreet Mastigophoros, Or the dear spirit acute Canaidus 170 (That Aretine, that most of me beloved, Who in the rich esteem I prize his soul, I term myself); should these once menace me, Or curb my humours with well-govern'd check, I should with most industrious regard, Observe, abstain, and curb my skipping lightness; But when an arrogant, odd, impudent, A blushless forehead, only out of sense Of his own wants, bawls in malignant questing At others' means of waving gallantry,-- 180 Pight foutra!

_Lam._ I rail at none, you well-squared signior.

_Qua._ I cannot tell; 'tis now grown fashion, What's out of railing's out of fashion. A man can scarce put on a tuck'd-up cap, A button'd frizado suit, scarce eat good meat, Anchovies, caviare, but he's satired And term'd fantastical by the muddy spawn Of slimy newts, when, troth, fantasticness-- That which the natural sophisters term 190 _Phantasia incomplexa_--is a function Even of the bright immortal part of man. It is the common pass, the sacred door, Unto the privy chamber of the soul; That barr'd, nought passeth past the baser court Of outward sense; by it th' inamorate Most lively thinks he sees the absent beauties Of his loved mistress; By it we shape a new creation Of things as yet unborn; by it we feed 200 Our ravenous memory, our intention feast: 'Slid he that's not fantastical's a beast.

_Lam._ Most fantastical protection of fantasticness.

_Lav._ Faith, 'tis good.

_Qua._ So't be fantastical 'tis wit's lifeblood.

_Lav._ Come, signior, my legs are girt.

_Qua._ Fantastically?

_Lav._ After a special humour, a new cut.

_Qua._ Why, then, 'tis rare, 'tis excellent. Uds fut! And I were to be hanged I would be choked Fantastically. He can scarce be saved 210 That's not fantastical: I stand firm to it.

_Lav._ Nay, then, sweet sir, give reason. Come on: when?[443]

_Qua._ 'Tis hell to run in common base of men.

_Lav._ Has not run thyself out of breath, bully?[444]

_Qua._ And I have not jaded thy ears more than I have tired my tongue, I could run discourse, put him out of his full pace. I could pour speech till thou criedst ho! but troth, I dread a glut; and I confess much love To freer gentry, whose pert agile spirits 220 Is too much frost-bit, numb'd with ill-strain'd snibs,[445] Hath tenter-reach'd[446] my speech. By Brutus' blood, He is a turf that will be slave to man; But he's a beast that dreads his mistress' fan.

_Lav._ Come, all mirth and solace, capers, healths, and whiffs;[447] To-morrow are my nuptials celebrate. All friends, all friends!

_Lam._ I protest----

_Qua._ Nay, leave protests; pluck out your snarling fangs. When thou hast means, be fantastical and sociable. Go to: here's my hand; and you want forty shillings, I am your Mecænas, though not _atavis edite regibus_. 233

_Lam._ Why, content, and I protest----

_Qua._ I'll no protest!

_Lam._ Well, and I do not leave these fopperies, do not lend me forty shillings, and there's my hand: I embrace you--love you--nay, adore thee; for by the juice of wormwood, thou hast a bitter brain!

_Qua._ You, Simplicius, wolt leave that staring fellow, Admiration, and adoration of thy acquaintance, wilt? A scorn! out; 'tis odious. Too eager a defence argues a strong opposition; and too vehement a praise draws a suspicion of others' worthy disparagement. 245 Set[448] tapers to bright day, it ill befits; Good wines can vent themselves, and not good wits?

_Sim._ Good truth, I love you; and with the grace of Heaven, I'll be very civil and----

_Qua._ Fantastical. 250

_Sim._ I'll be something; I have a conceal'd humour in me; and 'twere broach'd 'twould spurt i'faith.

_Qua._ Come then, Saint Mark, let's be as light as air, As fresh and jocund as the breast of May. I prithee, good French knight, good plump-cheek'd chub, Run some French passage. Come, let's see thy vein-- Dances, scenes, and songs, royal entertain.

_Lav._ Petit lacque, page, page, Bidet, sing! Give it the French jerk--quick, spart, lightly--ha! Ha, here's a turn unto my Celia![449] 260

_Qua._ Stand stiff! ho, stand! take footing firm! stand sure! For if thou fall before thy mistress Thy manhood's damn'd. Stand firm! Ho! good! so, so!

_The Dance and Song._

_Lav._ Come, now, via, aloune,[450] to Celia.

_Qua._ Stay, take an old rhyme first; though dry and lean, 'Twill serve to close the stomach of the scene.

_Lav._ This is thy humour to berhyme us still; Never so slightly pleased, but out they fly.

_Qua._ They are mine own, no gleanèd poetry; My fashion's known. Out, rhyme; take't as you list: 270 A fico[451] for the sour-brow'd Zoilist!

Music, tobacco, sack, and sleep, The tide of sorrow backward keep. If thou art sad at others' fate, _Rivo_,[452] drink deep, give care the mate. On us the end of time is come, Fond fear of that we cannot shun; Whilst quickest sense doth freshly last, Clip time about, hug pleasure fast. The sisters ravel out our twine, 280 He that knows little 's most divine. Error deludes; who'll beat this hence,-- Naught's known but by exterior sense? Let glory blazon others' deed, My blood than breath craves better meed. Let twattling fame cheat others' rest, I am no dish for rumour's feast. Let honour others' hope abuse, I'll nothing have, so nought will lose. I'll strive to be nor great nor small, 290 To live nor die; fate helmeth[453] all. When I can breathe no longer, then Heaven take all: there put Amen.

How is't? how is't?

_Lav._ Faith, so, so; _tellement, quellement;_ As 't please opinion to current it.

_Qua._ Why, then, via! let's walk.

_Lav._ I must give notice to an odd pedant, as we pass, of my nuptials: I use him, for he is obscure, and shall marry us in private. I have many enemies, but secresy is the best evasion from envy. 300

_Qua._ Holds it to-morrow?

_Lav._ Ay firm, absolute.

_Lam._ I'll say amen if the priest be mute.

_Qua._ Epithalamiums will I sing, my chuck. Go on--spend freely--out on dross, 'tis muck.

[_Exeunt._

[422] A sort of coarse cloth.--"By this heaven I wonder at nothing more than our gentlemen ushers, that will suffer a piece of serge or _perpetuana_ to come into the presence."--_Cynthia's Revels_, iii. 2.

[423] "A kind of loose drawers or stockings worn outside the legs over the other clothing."--_Halliwell._

[424] "Mignon.--A minion, favourite wanton, _dilling_, darling."--_Cotgrave._

[425] _Pudding_ tobacco is frequently mentioned by the dramatists. Cf. _Cynthia's Revels_, ii. 1:--"Never kneels but to pledge healths, nor prays but for a pipe of _pudding-tobacco_." Probably it was tobacco compressed into a solid shape.

[426] From numerous passages it appears that it was regarded as a piece of affectation to use the word _protest_. See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[427] Ed. 1. "You."

[428] Chamlet (or camlet) was a mixed stuff of wool and silk.

[429] "'_Party per pale_' is a term in heraldry denoting that the field or ground on which the figures that make up a coat of arms are represented, is divided into two equal parts by a perpendicular line; and Quadratus means that the external appearances of the two sexes are, in Simplicius, divided with equal exactness."--_Dilke._

[430] Old eds. "you."

[431] I beseech the reader to make "tears" equivalent to a dissyllable and not pronounce "Heracl[=i]tus" as "Heracl[)i]tus."

[432] Formerly it was in the sovereign's power to grant to any petitioner the care of the person and estates of a subject who had been legally proved to be an idiot.

[433] Marston has made a slip here: he has confused the hyena with the panther. "The panther or pardal," says Topsel, "smelleth most sweetly, which savour he hath received from a divine gift, and doth not only feel the benefit of it himself, but also bewray it unto other beasts; for when he feeleth himself to be hungry and stand in need of meat, then doth he get up into some rough tree, and by his savour or sweet smell, draweth unto him an innumerable company of wild goats, harts, roes, and hinds, and such other beasts, and so upon a sudden leapeth down upon them when he espieth his convenient time. And Solinus saith that the sweetness of his savour worketh the same effect upon them in the open fields, for they are so mightily delighted with his spotted skin and fragrant smell that they always come running unto him from all parts, striving who shall come nearest to him to be satisfied with the sight; but when once they look upon his fierce and grim face they all are terrified and turn away" (_History of Four-footed Beasts_, ed. 1658, p. 451).

[434] The name of a piece of ordnance.

[435] An exclamation of impatience.

[436] Tadpole.--"Cavesot. A _pole-head_ or bull-head; the little black vermine whereof toads and frogs do come."--_Cotgrave._

[437] Dilke reads "cheval," and Mr. J. R. Lowell (in _My Study Windows_) approves of the emendation. I suspect that "Chirall" is a corruption of the name of some horse famous in one of the old romances.--_Curtal_ (= docked horse) would be preferable to _cheval_.

[438] We have had in _Parasitaster_ (p. 212) a travesty of this line of _Richard III_. So in the _Scourge of Villainy_:-- "A man! a man! a kingdom for a man!"

Again in _Eastward Ho_:-- "A boat! a boat! a full hundred marks for a boat!"

[439] A bacchanalian exclamation of uncertain origin.

[440] _Kinsader_ was the pseudonym under which Marston published his _Scourge of Villainy_.

[441] If the text is not corrupt, "more battle fate" must mean "more prosperous fortune." _Battle_ and _batful_, applied to land, had the meaning--_fertile_, _fruitful_.

[442] Old eds. "and sting-blister."--I suspect that Marston first wrote "stinge," and afterwards corrected it into "blister,"--the printer keeping both words.

[443] See note 2, p. 348.

[444] A familiar form of address.

[445] Snubs.

[446] Ed. 1. "tender-reach'd."

[447] A particular manner of smoking tobacco. In the Character of the Persons prefixed to _Every Man out of his Humour_ it is said of Cavaliero Shift--"His chief exercises are _taking the whiff_, squiring a cockatrice, &c." We learn from the _Gull's Horn-book_ (Dekker's _Works_, ed. Grosart, ii. 242) that it was part of a gallant's education to be skilled in _taking the whiff_.

[448] "With taper light To seek the beauteous eye of heaven to garnish Is wasteful and ridiculous excess."--_King John_, iv. 2.

[449] Old eds. "Lucea."

[450] A corruption of Fr. _allons_. Cf. Nashe's _Have with you to Saffron_--"_Alloune, alloune_, let us march!" (_Works_, ed. Grosart, iii. 163.)

[451] See Dyce's _Shakesp. Glossary_.

[452] A bacchanalian exclamation.

[453] Ed. 2. "helpeth."

## SCENE II.

_A School-room._

_Enter a schoolmaster, draws the curtains behind, with_ BATTUS, NOUS, SLIP, NATHANIEL, _and_ HOLOFERNES PIPPO, _schoolboys, sitting, with books in their hands_.

_All._ _Salve, magister!_

_Ped._[454] _Salvete pueri, estote salvi, vos salvere exopto vobis salutem, Batte, mi fili, mi Batte!_

_Bat._ _Quid vis?_

_Ped._ Stand forth: repeat your lesson without book.

_Bat._ A noun is the name of a thing that may be seen, felt, heard, or understood.

_Ped._ Good boy: on, on.

_Bat._ Of nouns some be substantives and some be substantives. 10

_Ped._ Adjectives.

_Bat._ Adjectives. A noun substantive either is proper to the thing that it betokeneth--

_Ped._ Well, to numbers.

_Bat._ In nouns be two numbers, the singular and the plural: the singular number speaketh of one, as _lapis_, a stone; the plural speaketh of more than one, as _lapides_, stones.

_Ped._ Good child. Now thou art past _lapides_, stones, proceed to the cases. Nous, say you next, Nous. Where's your lesson, Nous? 21

_Nous._ I am in a verb, forsooth.

_Ped._ Say on, forsooth: say, say.

_Nous._ A verb is a part of speech declined with mood and tense, and betokeneth doing, as _amo_, I love.

_Ped._ How many kind of verbs are there?

_Nous._ Two; personal and impersonal.

_Ped._ Of verbs personals, how many kinds?

_Nous._ Five; active, passive, neuter, deponent, and common. A verb active endeth in _o_, and betokeneth to do, as _amo_, I love; and by putting to _r_, it may be a passive, as _amor_, I am loved. 32

_Ped._ Very good, child. Now learn to know the deponent and common. Say you, Slip.

_Slip._ _Cedant_[455] _arma togæ, concedat laurea linguæ._

_Ped._ What part of speech is _lingua_: _inflecte, inflecte_.

_Slip._ _Singulariter, nominativo hæc lingua._

_Ped._ Why is _lingua_ the feminine gender?

_Slip._ Forsooth because it is the feminine gender. 39

_Ped._ Ha, thou ass! thou dolt! _idem per idem_, mark it: _lingua_ is declined with _hæc_, the feminine, because it is a household stuff, particularly belonging and most commonly resident under the roof of women's mouths. Come on, you Nathaniel, say you, say you next; not too fast; say tretably:[456] say.

_Nath._ _Mascula dicuntur monosyllaba nomina quædam._

_Ped._ Faster! faster!

_Nath._ _Ut sal, sol, ren et splen: car, ser, vir, vas, vadis, as, mas, Bes, cres, pres et pes, glis, glirens [sic] habens genetivo, Mos, flos, ros et tros, muns [sic], dens, mons, pons--_ 50

_Ped._ _Rup, tup, snup, slup, bor, hor, cor, mor._ Holla! holla! holla! you Holofernes Pippo, put him down. Wipe your nose: fie, on your sleeve! where's your muckender[457] your grandmother gave you? Well, say on; say on.

_Hol._ Pree,[458] master, what word's this?

_Ped._ _Ass! ass!_

_Hol._ _As in presenti perfectum format in, in, in_--

_Ped._ In what, sir?

_Hol._ _Perfectum format._ In what, sir? 60

_Ped._ In what, sir?--_in avi_.

_Hol._ In what, sir?--_in avi. Ut no, nas, navi, vocito, vocitas, voci, voci, voci_--

_Ped._ What's next?

_Hol._ _Voci_--what's next?

_Ped._ Why, thou ungracious child! thou simple animal! thou barnacle! Nous,--snare him; take him up: and you were my father, you should up. 68

_Hol._ Indeed I am not your father. O Lord! now, for God sake, let me go out. My mother told a thing: I shall bewray[459] all else. Hark, you, master: my grandmother entreats you to come to dinner to-morrow morning.

_Ped._ I say, untruss--take him up. Nous, despatch! what, not perfect in an _as in presenti_?

_Hol._ In truth I'll be as perfect an _as in presenti_ as any of this company, with the grace of God, law: this once--this once--and I do so any more----

_Ped._ I say, hold him up! 79

_Hol._ Ha, let me say my prayers first. You know not what you ha' done now; all the syrup of my brain is run into my buttocks, and ye spill the juice of my wit well. Ha, sweet! ha, sweet! honey, Barbary sugar,[460] sweet master.

_Ped._ Sans tricks, trifles, delays, demurrers, procrastinations, or retardations, mount him, mount him.

_Enter_ QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO, LAVERDURE, _and_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Qua._ Be merciful, my gentle signior.

_Lav._ We'll sue his pardon out.

_Ped._ He is reprieved: and now, Apollo bless your brains; facundius, and elaborate elegance make your presence gracious in the eyes of your mistress. 91

_Lav._ You must along with us; lend private ear.

_Sim._ What is your name?

_Hol._ Holofernes Pippo.

_Sim._ Who gave you that name? Nay, let me alone for sposing [_sic_] of a scholar.

_Hol._ My godfathers and godmothers in my baptism.

_Sim._ Truly, gallants, I am enamoured on thee, boy; wilt thou serve me?

_Hol._ Yes, and please my grandmother, when I come to years of discretion. 101

_Ped._ And you have a propensitude to him, he shall be for you. I was solicited to grant him leave to play the lady in comedies presented by children; but I knew his voice was too small,[461] and his stature too low. Sing, sing a treble, Holofernes: sing.

_The Song._

A very small sweet voice, I'll assure you.

_Qua._ 'Tis smally sweet indeed.

_Sim._ A very pretty child. Hold up thy head. There; buy thee some plums. 110

_Qua._ Nay, they must play; you go along with us.

_Ped._ _Ludendi venia est petita et concessa._

_All._ _Gratias._

_Sim._ Pippo's my page. How like you him? Ha! has he not a good face, ha?

_Lav._ Exceedingly amiable. Come away; I long to see my love, my Celia.

_Sim._ Carry my rapier; hold up so; good child: stay, gallants. Umph! a sweet face.

[_Exeunt_[462] _all but_ LAMPATHO _and_ QUADRATUS.

_Lam._ I relish not this mirth; my spirit is untwist; My heart is ravell'd out in discontents. 121 I am deep-thoughtful, and I shoot my soul Through all creation of omnipotence.

_Qua._ What, art melancholy, Lamp? I'll feed thy humour: I'll give thee reason strait to hang thyself. Mark't, mark't: in Heaven's handiwork there's naught-- Believe it.

_Lam._ In Heaven's handiwork there's naught, None more vile, accursed, reprobate to bliss, Than man; and[463] 'mong men a scholar most. 130 Things only fleshly sensitive, an ox or horse, They live and eat, and sleep, and drink, and die, And are not touched with recollections Of things o'er-past, or stagger'd infant doubts Of things succeeding; but leave the manly beasts, And give but pence apiece to have a sight Of beastly man now----

_Sim._ [_from within_]. What so, Lampatho! Good truth, I will not pay your ordinary if you come not.

_Lam._ Dost thou hear that voice? I'll make a parrot now 140 As good a man as he in fourteen nights. I never heard him vent a syllable Of his own creating since I knew the use Of eyes and ears. Well, he's perfect blest, Because a perfect beast. I'll gage my heart He knows no difference essential 'Twixt my dog and him. The whoreson sot is blest, Is rich in ignorance, makes fair usance on't, And every day augments his barbarism. So love me calmness, I do envy him for't. 150 I was a scholar: seven useful springs Did I deflower in quotations Of cross'd opinions 'bout the soul of man. The more I learnt the more I learnt to doubt: Knowledge and wit, faith's foes, turn faith about.

_Sim._ [_from within_]. Nay, come, good signior. I stay all the gentlemen here. I would fain give my pretty page a pudding-pie.

_Lam._ Honest epicure.--Nay, mark, list. Delight, Delight, my spaniel slept, whilst I baus'd leaves, 160 Toss'd o'er the dunces, pored on the old print Of titled words, and still my spaniel slept. Whilst I wasted lamp-oil, bated my flesh, Shrunk up my veins; and still my spaniel slept. And still I held converse with Zabarell,[464] Aquinas, Scotus, and the musty saw Of antic Donate; still my spaniel slept Still went on went I; first _an sit anima_, Then, and it were mortal. O hold, hold! at that They're at brain-buffets, fell by the ears amain 170 Pell-mell together; still my spaniel slept. Then whether 'twere corporeal, local, fix'd, Extraduce; but whether 't had free will Or no, ho philosophers Stood banding factions all so strongly propp'd, I stagger'd, knew not which was firmer part; But thought, quoted,[465] read, observ'd, and pried, Stuff'd noting-books; and still my spaniel slept. At length he waked and yawn'd and by yon sky, For aught I know he knew as much as I. 180

_Sim._ [_from within_]. Delicate good Lampatho, come away. I assure you I'll give but twopence more.

_Lam._ How 'twas created, how the soul exists: One talks of motes, the soul was made of motes; Another fire, t'other light, a third A spark of star-like nature; Hippo water, Anaximenes air, Aristoxenus music; Critias, I know not what. A company of odd phrenetici! Did eat my youth; and when I crept abroad, 190 Finding my numbness in this nimble age, I fell a-railing; but now, soft and slow, I know I know naught but I naught do know. What shall I do--what plot, what course pursue?

_Qua._ Why, turn a temporist, row with the tide, Pursue the cut, the fashion of the age. Well, here's my scholar's course: first get a school, And then a ten-pound cure; keep both. Then buy (Stay, marry, ay, marry) then a farm, or so: Serve God and mammon--to the devil go. 200 Affect some sect--ay, 'tis the sect is it, So thou canst seem, 'tis held the precious wit. And O, if thou canst get some higher seat, Where thou mayest sell your holy portion (Which charitable Providence ordained, In sacred bounty, for a blessèd use), Alien the glebe, entail it to thy loins, Entomb it in thy grave, Past resurrection to his native use! Now, if there be a hell, and such swine saved, Heaven take all--that's all my hopes have craved. 210

_Enter_ PIPPO.

_Pip._ My Simplicias master--

_Lam._ Your master Simplicius.

_Pip._ Has come to you to sent--

_Lam._ Has sent to me to come.

_Pip._ Ha! ha! has bought me a fine dagger, and a hat and a feather! I can say _As in presenti_ now!

_Company of Boys within._ Quadratus, Quadratus, away! away!

_Quad._[466] We come, sweet gallants; and grumbling hate lie still, And turn fantastic! He that climbs a hill 220 Must wheel about; the ladder to account Is sly dissemblance: he that means to mount Must lie all level in the prospective Of eager-sighted greatness. Thou wouldst thrive: The Venice state is young, loose, and unknit, Can relish naught but luscious vanities. Go, fit his tooth. O glavering flattery! How potent art thou! Front, look brisk and sleek.-- That such base dirt as you should dare to reek In princes' nostrils!--Well, my scene is long. 230

_All within._ Quadratus!

_Qua._ I come, hot bloods. Those that their state would swell, Must bear a counter-face. The devil and hell Confound them all! That's all my prayers exact: So ends our chat;--sound music for the act!

[_Exeunt._

[454] _i.e._, _Pedant_.--See p. 373. [Transcriber's Note: Act III, Scene ii, line 100]

[455] Cicero, _Off._ i. 22, 77.

[456] Chaucer has _tretable_ in the sense of _tractable_, _well-disposed_; but that sense does not suit the present passage.

[457] Handkerchief.

[458] Shortened form of "prithee."

[459] See note, vol. i. p. 114.

[460] Dilke refers to Fletcher's _Beggars' Bush_, iv. 3:-- "_Fourth Merchant._ Or if you want fine sugar, 'tis but sending. _Goswin._ No, I can send to _Barbary_."

[461] "She has brown hair, and speaks _small_ like a woman."--_Merry Wives_, i. 1.

[462] Not marked in old eds.

[463] Omitted in ed. 2.

[464] Giacomo Zabarella (1533-1589), the Aristotelian commentator, professor of logic and philosophy at Padua.

[465] Made notes.

[466] Old eds. give this speech to Lampatho.

## ACT III.

## SCENE I.

_Francisco's house._

_Enter_ FRANCISCO, _half-dressed, in his black doublet and round cap, the rest rich_; JACOMO _bearing his hat and feather_; ANDREA _his doublet and band_; RANDOLFO _his cloak and staff_. _They clothe_ FRANCISCO _whilst_ BIDET _creeps in and observes them. Much of this done whilst the Act is playing._

_Fra._ For God's sake, remember to take special marks of me, or you will ne'er be able to know me.

_And._ Why, man?

_Fra._ Why, good faith, I scarce know myself; already me thinks I should remember to forget myself; now I am so shining brave. Indeed Francisco was always a sweet youth, for I am a perfumer; but thus brave! I am an alien to it. Would you make me like the drown'd Albano? Must I bear't mainly up? Must I be he?

_Ran._ What else, man? O, what else? 10

_Jaco._ I warrant you, give him but fair rich clothes, He can be ta'en, reputed anything. Apparel's grown a god, and goes[467] more neat; Makes men of rags, which straight he bears aloft, Like patch'd-up scarecrows to affright the rout Of the idolatrous vulgar that worship images, Stand awed and bare-scalp'd at the gloss of silks, Which, like the glorious A-jax[468] of Lincoln's-Inn (Survey'd with wonder by me when I lay Factor in London), laps up naught but filth 20 And excrements, that bear the shape of men, Whose inside every daw[469] would peck and tear, But that vain scarecrow clothes entreats forbear.

_Fra._ You would have me take upon me, Albano, A valiant gallant Venetian burgomasco. Well my beard, my feather, short sword, and my oath, Shall do't, fear not. What! I know a number, By the sole warrant of a lappy beard, A rain-beat plume, and a good chop-filling oath, With an odd French shrug, and "by the Lord," or so, 30 Ha' leapt into sweet captain with such ease As you would--Fear't not. I'll gage my heart I'll do't. How sits my hat? Ha! Jack, doth my feather wag?

_Jaco._ Methinks now, in the common sense of fashion, Thou shouldst grow proud, and like a fore-horse view, None but beforehand gallants; as for sides, Study a faint salute, give a strange eye; And those that rank in equal file with thee, But as to those in rearward, O be blind! The world wants eyes--it[470] cannot see behind. 40

_Fra._ Where is the strumpet? Where's the hot-vein'd French? Lives not Albano? Hath Celia so forgot Albano's love, that she must forthwith wed A runabout, a skipping Frenchman?

_Jaco._ Now you must grow in heat, and stut.

_Fra._ An odd phantasma--a beggar--a sir--a who, who, who--What You Will--a straggling go-go-go-gunds--f-f-f-f-fut----

_And._ Passing like him--passing like him. O 'twill strike all dead! 50

_Ran._ I am ravished! 'Twill be peerless exquisite Let him go out instantly!

_Jaco._ O, not till twilight; meantime I'll prop up The tottering rumour of Albano's scape, And safe arrival; it begins to spread. If this plot live, Frenchman, thy hopes are dead.

[_Exeunt._

_Bid._ And if it live, strike off this little head.

[_Exit._

[467] Ed. 1. "does."

[468] _A jakes._ The joke (originated by Sir John Harrington) is very common. Concerning the jakes of Lincoln's Inn, see the droll, though not very delicate, story in Gayton's _Festivous Notes on Don Quixote_, 1654, p. 74.

[469] Old eds. "day" (which Dilke retains!).

[470] Ed. 2. "and."

## SCENE II.

_A Public Place._

_Enter_ ALBANO _with_ SLIP, _his Page_.

_Alb._ Can it be? Is't possible? Is't within the bounds of faith? O villainy!

_Slip._ The clapper of rumour strikes on both sides, ringing out the French knight is in firm possession of my mistress, your wife.

_Alb._ Is't possible I should be dead so soon In her affects? How long is't since our shipwrack?

_Slip._ Faith, I have little arithmetic in me, yet I remember the storm made me cast up perfectly the whole sum of all I had receiv'd; three days before I was liquor'd soundly; my guts were rinced 'fore the heavens. I look as pale ever since, as if I had ta'en the diet[471] this spring. 13

_Alb._ But how long is't since our shipwrack?

_Slip._ Marry, since we were hung by the heels on the batch of Sicily, to make a jail-delivery of the sea in our maws, 'tis just three months. Shall I speak like a poet?--_thrice hath the horned moon----_

_Alb._ Talk not of horns. O Celia! How oft, When thou hast laid thy cheek upon my breast, 20 And with lascivious petulancy sued For hymeneal dalliance, marriage-rites;-- O then, how oft, with passionate protests And zealous vows, hast thou obliged thy love, In dateless bands, unto Albano's breast! Then, did I but mention second marriage, With what a bitter hate would she inveigh 'Gainst retail'd wedlocks! "O!" would she lisp, "If you should die,"--then would she slide a tear, And with a wanton languishment intwist 30 Her hands,--"O God, and you should die! Marry? Could I love life, my dear Albano dead? Should any prince possess his widow's bed?" And now, see, see, I am but rumour'd drown'd.

_Slip._ She'll make you prince;--your worship must be crown'd. O master, you know the woman is the weaker creature! She must have a prop. The maid is the brittle metal; Her head is quickly crack'd. The wife is queasy-stomach'd, She must be fed with novelties. But, then, what's your widow? _Custom is a second nature_;--I say no more, but think you the rest. 40

_Alb._ If love be holy; if that mystery Of co-united hearts be sacrament; If the unbounded goodness have infused A sacred ardour, if a mutual love, Into our species, of those amorous joys, Those sweets of life, those comforts even in death, Spring from a cause above our reason's reach;-- If that clear flame deduce his heat from heaven;-- 'Tis like his cause,[472] eternal, always One, As is th' instiller of divinest love, 50 Unchanged by time, immortal maugre death! But O, 'tis grown a figment, love a jest, A comic poesy! The soul of man is rotten, Even to the core;--no sound affection. Our love is hollow-vaulted--stands on props Of circumstance, profit, or ambitious hopes! The other tissue gown, or chain of pearl, Makes my coy minx to nuzzel[473] 'twixt the breasts Of her lull'd husband; t'other carkanet Deflowers that lady's bed. One hundred more 60 Marries that loathèd blowze;--one ten-pound odds, In promised jointure, makes the hard-palm'd sire Enforce his daughter's tender lips to start At the sharp touch of some loath'd stubbèd beard; The first pure time, the golden age, is fled. Heaven knows I lie,--'tis now the age of gold,-- For it all marreth, and even virtue's sold!

_Slip._ Master, will you trust me, and I'll----

_Alb._ Yes, boy, I'll trust thee. Babes and fools I'll trust; But servants' faith, wives' love, or female's lust,-- 70 A usurer and the devil sooner. Now, were I dead, Methinks I see a huff-cap swaggering sir Pawning my plate, my jewels mortgage; nay, Selling outright[474] the purchase of my brows, Whilst my poor fatherless, lean, totter'd[475] son-- My gentry's relics, my house's only prop-- Is saw'd asunder, lies forlorn, all bleak Unto the griefs of sharp necessities, Whilst his father-in-law, his father-in-devil, or d-d-d-d-devil-f-f-f-father, Or who, who, who, who,--What You Will!-- 80 When is the marriage morn?

_Slip._ Even next rising sun.

_Alb._ Good, good, good! Go to my brother Andrea:[476] Tell him I'll lurk; stay, tell him I'll lurk: stay.-- Now is Albano's marriage-bed new hung With fresh rich curtains! Now are my valence up, Emboss'd with orient pearl, my grandsire's gift! Now are the lawn sheets fumed with violets,[477] To fresh the pall'd lascivious appetite! Now work the cooks, the pastry sweats with slaves; The march-panes[478] glitter: now, now, the musicians 90 Hover with nimble sticks o'er squeaking crowds,[479] Tickling the dried guts of a mewing cat. The tailors, starchers, sempsters, butchers, poulterers, mercers,--all, all, all,--now, now, now,--none think o' me,--the f-f-f-French is _te f-f-f-fine man, de p-p-p-pock man, de----_

_Slip._ Peace, peace! stand conceal'd. Yonder, by all descriptions, is he would be husband of my mistress;--your wife! hah, meat, hah!

_Alb._ Uds so, so, so soul! that's my velvet cloak! 100

_Slip._ O peace! observe him: ha!

_Enter_ LAVERDURE _and_ BIDET, _talking_; QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO, SIMPLICIUS, PEDANT, _and_ HOLOFERNES PIPPO.

_Bid._ 'Tis most true, sir. I heard all; I saw all; I tell all, and I hope you believe all. The sweet Francisco Soranza, the perfumer, is by your rival Jacomo, and your two brothers that must be, when you have married your wife that shall be--

_Ped._ With the grace of Heaven. 107

_Bid._ Disguised so like the drowned Albano, to cross your suit, that by my little honesty 'twas great consolation to me to observe them. "Passion of joy, of hope! O excellent!" cried Andrea. "Passingly!" cried Randolfo. "Unparallel'd!" lisps Jacomo. "Good, good, good!" says Andrea. "Now stut," says Jacomo. "Now stut," says Randolfo; whilst the ravish'd perfumer had like to have water'd the seams of his breeches for extreme pride of their applause.

_Lav._ Sest,[480] I'll to Celia, and, maugre the nose of her friends, wed her, bed her; my first son shall be a captain, and his name shall be what it please his godfathers; the second, if he have a face bad enough, a lawyer; the third, a merchant; and the fourth, if he be maim'd, dull-brain'd, or hard-shaped, a scholar; for that's your fashion. 123

_Qua._ Get them; get them, man, first. Now by the wantonness of the night, and I were a wench, I would not ha' thee, wert thou an heir, nay (which is more) a fool.

_Lav._ Why, I can rise high: a straight leg, a plump thigh, a full vein, a round cheek; and, when it pleaseth the fertility of my chin to be delivered of a beard, 'twill not wrong my kissing, for my lips are rebels, and stand out. 131

_Qua._ Ho! but there's an old fusty proverb, these great talkers are never good doers.

_Lam._ Why, what a babel arrogance is this! Men will put by the very stock of fate; They'll thwart the destiny of marriage, Strive to disturb the sway of Providence: They'll do it!

_Qua._ Come, you'll be snarling now.

_Lam._ As if we had free-will in supernatural Effects, and that our love or hate 140 Depended not on causes 'bove the reach Of human stature.

_Qua._ I think I shall not lend you forty shillings now.

_Lam._ Dirt upon dirt, fear is beneath my shoe. Dreadless of racks, strappadoes, or the sword-- Maugre informer and sly intelligence,-- I'll stand as confident as Hercules, And, with a frightless resolution, Rip up and lance our time's impieties.

_Sim._ Uds so, peace. 150

_Lam._ Open a bounteous ear, for I'll be free: Ample as Heaven, give my speech more room; Let me unbrace my breasts, strip up my sleeves, Stand like an executioner to vice, To strike his head off with the keener edge Of my sharp spirit.

_Lav._ Room and good licence: come on! when, when?

_Lam._ Now is my fury mounted. Fix your eyes; Intend your senses; bend your list'ning up; For I'll make greatness quake; I'll taw[481] the hide 160 Of thick-skinn'd Hugeness.

_Lav._ 'Tis most gracious; we'll observe thee calmly.

_Qua._ Hang on thy tongue's end. Come on! prithee do.

_Lam._ I'll see you hanged first I thank you, sir, I'll none. This is the strain that chokes the theatres; That makes them crack with full-stuff'd audience; This is your humour only in request, Forsooth to rail; this brings your ears to bed; This people gape for; for this some do stare. This some would hear, to crack the author's neck; 170 This admiration and applause pursues; Who cannot rail? my humour's changed, 'tis clear: Pardon, I'll none; I prize my joints more dear.

_Bid._ Master, master, I ha' descried the Perfumer in Albano's disguise. Look you! look you! Rare sport! rare sport! 176

_Alb._ I can contain my impatience no longer. You, Monsieur Cavalier, Saint Dennis,--you, capricious sir, Signior Caranto French Brawl,[482]--you, that must marry Celia Galanto,--is Albano drown'd now? Go wander, avaunt, knight-errant! Celia shall be no cuck-quean,[483]--my heir no beggar,--my plate no pawn,--my land no mortgage,--my wealth no food for thy luxuries,--my house no harbour for thy comrades,--my bed no booty for thy lusts! My anything shall be thy nothing. Go hence! pack, pack! avaunt! caper, caper! aloun, aloun! pass by, pass by! cloak your nose! away! vanish! wander! depart! slink by! away! 188

_Lav._ Hark you, Perfumer. Tell Jacomo, Randolfo, and Andrea,[484] 'twill not do;--look you, say no more, but--'twill not do.

_Alb._ What Perfumer? what Jacomo?

_Qua._ Nay, assure thee, honest Perfumer, good Francisco, we know all, man. Go home to thy civet box; look to the profit, commodity, or emolument of thy musk-cat's tail: go, clap on your round cap--my "what do you lack," sir,--for i'faith, good rogue, all's descried!

_Alb._ What Perfumer? what musk-cat? what Francisco? What do you lack? Is't not enough that you kiss'd my wife? 200

_Lav._ Enough.

_Alb._ Ay, enough! and may be, I fear me, too much; but you must flout me,--deride me,--scoff me,--keep out,--touch not my porch;--as for my wife!----

_Lav._ Stir to the door: dare to disturb the match, And by the----

_Alb._ My sword! menace Albano 'fore his own doors!

_Lav._ No, not Albano, but Francisco: thus, Perfumer, I'll make you stink if you stir a----For the rest: well, _via, via!_

[_Exeunt all but_ ALBANO, SLIP, SIMPLICIUS, _and_ HOLOFERNES.

_Alb._ Jesu, Jesu! what intends this? ha! 211

_Sim._ O God, sir! you lie as open to my understanding as a courtezan. I know you as well----

_Alb._ Somebody knows me yet: praise Heaven, somebody knows me yet!

_Sim._ Why, look you, sir: I ha' paid for[485] my knowing of men and women too, in my days: I know you are Francisco Soranza, the perfumer; ay, maugre Signor Satin, ay----

_Alb._ Do not tempt my patience. Go to; do not----

_Sim._ I know you dwell in Saint Mark's Lane, at the sign of the Musk Cat, as well---- 222

_Alb._ Fool, or mad, or drunk, no more!

_Sim._ I know where you were dressed, where you were----

_Alb._ Nay, then, take all!--take all! take all!----

[_He bastinadoes_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Sim._ And I tell not my father; if I make you not lose your office of gutter-master-ship; and you be scavenger next year, well! Come, Holofernes; come, good Holofernes; come, servant. 230

[_Exeunt_ SIMPLICIUS _and_ HOLOFERNES.

_Enter_ JACOMO.

_Alb._ Francisco Soranza, and perfumer, and musk-cat, and gutter-master, hay, hay, hay!--go, go, go!--f-f-f-fut!--I'll to the Duke; and I'll so ti-ti-ti-tickle them!

_Jaco._ Precious! what means he to go out so soon, Before the dusk of twilight might deceive The doubtful priers? What, holla!

_Alb._ Whop! what devil now?

_Jaco._ I'll feign I know him not.-- What business 'fore those doors?

_Alb._ What's that to thee?

_Jaco._ You come to wrong my friend Sir Laverdure. 240 Confess, or----

_Alb._ My sword, boy!--s-s-s-s-soul, my sword!

_Jaco._ O, my dear rogue, thou art a rare dissembler!

_Alb._ See, see!

_Enter_ ANDREA[486] _and_ RANDOLFO.

_Jaco._ Francisco, did I not help to clothe thee even now? I would ha' sworn thee, Albano, my good sweet slave.

[_Exit_ JACOMO.

_Alb._ See, see! Jesu, Jesu! Impostors! Coney-catchers! Sancta Maria! 249

_Ran._ Look you. He walks; he feigns most excellent.

_And._[487] Accost him first as if you were ignorant Of the deceit.

_Ran._ O, dear Albano! now thrice happy eyes, To view the hopeless presence of my brother!

_Alb._ Most lovèd kinsman, praise to Heaven, yet You know Albano. But for yonder slaves--well----

_And._[487] Success could not come on more gracious.

_Alb._ Had not you come, dear brother Andrea,[488] I think not one would know me. Ulysses' dog Had quicker sense than my dull countrymen; 260 Why, none had known me.

_Ran._ Doubt you of that? Would I might die, Had I not known the guile, I would ha' sworn Thou hadst been Albano, my nimble, coz'ning knave.

_Alb._ Whip, whip! Heaven preserve all! Saint Mark, Saint Mark! Brother Andrea,[488] be frantic, prithee be; Say I am a perfumer--Francisco. Hay, hay! Is't not some feast-day? You are all rank drunk! Rats, ra-ra-ra-rats, knights of the be-be-be-bell! be-be-bell!

_And._[487] Go, go! proceed: thou dost it rare. Farewell.

[_Exeunt_ ANDREA[488] _and_ RANDOLFO.

_Alb._ Farewell? Ha! Is't even so? Boy, who am I?

_Slip._ My Lord Albano!

_Alb._ By this breast you lie. 272 The Samian[489] faith is true, true! I was drown'd; And now my soul is skipp'd into a perfumer, A gutter-master.

_Slip._ Believe me, sir----

_Alb._ No, no! I'll believe nothing! no! The disadvantage of all honest hearts Is quick credulity. Perfect state-policy Can cross-bite[490] even sense. The world's turn'd juggler! Casts mists before our eyes. Hey-pass re-pass![491] 280 I'll credit nothing.

_Slip._ Good sir!

_Alb._ Hence, ass! Doth not opinion stamp the current pass Of each man's value, virtue, quality? Had I engross'd the choice commodities Of Heaven's traffic, yet reputed vile, I am a rascal! O, dear unbelief! How wealthy dost thou make thy owner's wit! Thou train of knowledge! what a privilege Thou givest to thy possessor! anchor'st him From floating with the tide of vulgar faith; 290 From being damn'd with multitude's dear unbelief! I am a perfumer: ay, think'st thou, my blood, My brothers know not right Albano yet? Away! 'tis faithless![492] If Albano's name Were liable to sense, that I could taste, or touch, Or see, or feel it, it might 'tice belief; But since 'tis voice, and air--Come to the Muskcat, boy; Francisco, that's my name; 'tis right: ay, ay, What do you lack? what is't you lack? right; that's my cry.

[_Exeunt._

[471] _i.e._, as if I had been treated for the pox.

[472] Ed. 2. "cause's."

[473] Cf. Prologue to _Second Part of Antonio and Mellida_:-- "And _nuzzled 'twixt the breasts_ of happiness."

[474] Ed. 2. "our right."

[475] _i.e._, tatter'd.

[476] Old eds. "Adrian."

[477] Spenser, in his _Epithalamion_, alludes to the practice of sprinkling the bridal-bed with violets:-- "Now day is doen and night is nighing fast, Now bring the Bryde into the brydall bowres: The night is come, now soone her disaray, And in her bed her lay; Lay her in lilies and in _violets_, And silken courteins over her display."

[478] A composition of almonds, sugar, &c.

[479] Fiddles.

[480] Probably a corruption of Fr. _cessez_. Cf. Shakespeare's perplexing _sessa_.--We have the expression again on p. 402.

[481] Dress leather with alum.

[482] The name of a dance.

[483] She-cuckold.

[484] Old eds. "Adrian."

[485] Ed. 2. "for knowing men."

[486] Old eds. "Adrian."

[487] Old eds. "Adri."

[488] Old eds. "Adrian."

[489] Pythagoras was of Samos.

[490] Cheat.--Marlowe, i. 89.

[491] "Hey-pass re-pass"--a juggler's term.

[492] Ed. 1. "faites."

## SCENE III.

_A Tavern._

_Enter_ SLIP _and_ NOOSE; TRIP, _with the truncheon of a staff torch, and_ DOIT _with a pantofle_;[493] BIDET, HOLOFERNES _following. The cornets sound._

_Bid._ Proclaim our titles!

_Do._ _Bosphoros Cormelydon Honorificacuminos Bidet!_

_Hol._ I think your majesty's a Welshman; you have a horrible long name.

_Bid._ Death or silence! Proceed!

_Do._ _Honorificacuminos Bidet, Emperor of Cracks,_[494] _Prince of Pages, Marquess of Mumchance,_[495] and sole Regent over a Bale_[496] _of False Dice_: to all his under-ministers health, crowns, sack, tobacco, and stockings uncrack'd above the shoe. 10

_Bid._ Ourself will give them their charge. Now let me stroke my beard, and I had it, and speak wisely, if I knew how. Most unconscionable, honest little, or little honest, good subjects, inform our person of your several qualities, and of the prejudice that is foisted upon you, that ourself may preview, prevent, and preoccupy the pestilent[497] dangers incident to all your cases.

_Do._ Here is a petition exhibited of the particular grievances of each sort of pages. 19

_Bid._ We will vouchsafe, in this our public session, to peruse them. Pleaseth your excellent wagship to be informed that the division of pages is tripartite (tripartite), or threefold: of pages, some be court-pages, others ordinary gallant pages, and the third apple-squires,[498] basket-bearers, or pages of the placket: with the last we will proceed first. Stand forth, page of the placket,[499] what is your mistress?

_Slip._ A kind of puritan.[500]

_Bid._ How live you? 29

_Slip._ Miserably, complaining to your crack-ship: though we have light mistresses, we are made the children and servants of darkness. What profane use we are put to, all these gallants more feelingly know than we can lively express; it is to be commiserated, and by your royal insight only to be prevented, that a male monkey and the diminutive of a man should be _synonima_, and no sense. Though we are the dross of your subjects, yet being a kind of page, let us find your celsitude kind and respective of our time-fortunes and birth's abuse: and so, in the name of our whole tribe of empty basket-bearers, I kiss your little hands. 41

_Bid._ Your case is dangerous, and almost desperate. Stand forth, ordinary gallant's page: what is the nature of your master?

_No._ He eats well and right slovenly; and when the dice favour him, goes in good clothes, and scours his pink colour silk stockings; when he hath any money, he bears his crowns; when he hath none, I carry his purse. He cheats well, swears better, but swaggers in a wanton's chamber admirably; he loves his boy and the rump of a cramm'd capon; and this summer hath a passing thrifty humour to bottle ale; as contemptuous as Lucifer, as arrogant as ignorance can make him, as libidinous as Priapus. He keeps me as his adamant, to draw metal after to his lodging: I curl his perriwig, paint his cheeks, perfume his breath; I am his froterer[501] or rubber in a hot-house, the prop of his lies, the bearer of his false dice; and yet for all this, like the Persian louse, that eats biting, and biting eats, so I say sighing,[502] and sighing say, my end is to paste up a _si quis_.[503] My master's fortunes are forced to cashier me, and so six to one I fall to be a pippin-squire. _Hic finis Priami!_--this is the end of pickpockets. 63

_Bid._ Stand forth, court-page: thou lookest pale and wan.

_Trip._ Most ridiculous Emperor.

_Bid._ O, say no more. I know thy miseries;--what betwixt thy lady, her gentlewoman, and thy master's late gaming, thou mayest look pale. I know thy miseries, and I condole thy calamities. Thou art born well, bred ill, but diest worst of all: thy blood most commonly gentle, thy youth ordinarily idle, and thy age too often miserable. When thy first suit is fresh, thy cheeks clear of court-soils, and thy lord fall'n out with his lady, so long may be he'll chuck thee under the chin, call thee good pretty ape, and give thee a scrap from his own trencher; but after, he never beholds thee but when thou squirest him with a torch to a wanton's sheets, or lights his tobacco-pipe; never useth thee but as his pander; never regardeth thee but as an idle burr that stick'st upon the nap of his fortune; and so, naked thou camest into the world, and naked thou must return.--Whom serve you? 81

_Hol._ A fool!

_Bid._ Thou art my happiest subject: the service of a fool is the only blessed'st slavery that ever put on a chain and a blue coat; they know not what nor for what they give, but so they give 'tis good, so it be good they give; fortunes are ordain'd for fools, as fools are for fortune, to play withal, not to use: hath he taken an oath of allegiance--is he of our brotherhood yet?

_Hol._ Not yet, right _venerable Honorificac-cac-cac-cacu-minos Bidet_! but as little an infant as I am I will, and with the grace of wit I will deserve it. 92

_Bid._ You must perform a valorous, virtuous, and religious exploit first, in desert of your order.

_Hol._ What is't?

_Bid._ Cozen thy master; he is a fool, and was created for men of wit, such as thyself, to make use of.

_Hol._ Such as myself? Nay, faith, for wit, I think, for my age, or so--But on, sir. 99

_Bid._ That thou mayst the easier purge him of superfluous blood, I will describe thy master's constitution. He loves and is beloved of himself, and one more, his dog. There is a company of unbraced, untruss'd rutters[504] in the town, that crinkle in the hams, swearing their flesh is their only living, and when they have any crowns, cry "God a mercy, Mol!" and shrugging, "let the cock-holds[505] pay for't;" intimating that their maintenance flows from the wantonness of merchants' wives, when in troth the plain troth is, the plain and the stand, or the plain stand and deliver, delivers them all their living. These comrades have persuaded thy master that there's no way to redeem his peach-colour satin suit from pawn but by the love of a citizen's wife; he believes it: they flout him, he feeds them; and now 'tis our honest and religious meditation that he feed us, Holofernes Puppi. 115

_Hol._ Pippo, and shall please you.

_Bid._ Pippo, 'tis our will and pleasure thou suit thyself like a merchant's wife; leave the managing of the sequence unto our prudence.

_Hol._ Or unto our Prudence; truly she is a very witty wench, and hath a stammel[506] petticoat with three guards[507] for the nonce; but for your merchant's wife, alas! I am too little, speak too small, go too gingerly: by my troth I fear I shall look too fair. 124

_Bid._ Our majesty dismounteth, and we put off our greatness; and now, my little knaves, I am plain Crack. As I am Bosphoros Carmelydon Honorificacuminos Bidet, I am imperious, honour sparkles in mine eyes; but as I am Crack, I will convey,[508] crossbite,[509] and cheat upon Simplicius. I will feed, satiate, and fill your paunches; replenish, stuff, or furnish your purses: we will laugh when others weep--sing when others sigh--feed when others starve--and be drunk when others are sober. This is my charge at the loose.[510] As you love our brotherhood, avoid true speech, square dice, small liquor, and above all, those two ungentlemanlike protestations of indeed and verily. And so, 137 Gentle Apollo, touch thy nimble string; Our scene is done; yet 'fore we cease, we sing.

[_The Song, and exeunt._

[493] Slipper.--It was part of a page's duty to carry the pantofles of his master or mistress. On entering service he was said to be "sworn to the pantofle."

[494] _Crack_ was a common term for a pert boy.

[495] A game at cards.

[496] Pair of dice.--It would seem that to cog a die was a favourite form of roguery among pages. Nashe, in an address to "the dapper messieurs pages of the court," prefixed to _The Unfortunate Traveller_ (1594), says:--"Thirdly, it shall be lawful for any whatsoever to play with false dice in a corner."

[497] So ed. 2.--ed. 1. "pustulent."

[498] Attendant on a lady of pleasure.

[499] Petticoat.

[500] Cant term for a whore.

[501] Cf. _Every Man out of His Humour_, iv. 4:--"Let a man sweat once a week in a hot-house, and be well rubb'd and _froted_ with a good plump juicy wench and sweet linen, he shall ne'er ha' the pox."

[502] Old eds. "sithing and sithing."

[503] _i.e._, an advertisement for a situation: see Nares' Glossary. The middle aisle of Paul's was the favourite place for the display of such advertisements.

[504] Properly a German trooper (_reiter_ or _reuter_); but the term was also applied to a roistering gallant.

[505] So ed. 1.--Ed. 2. "cuckolds."

[506] Red.

[507] Facings, trimmings.

[508] Pilfer.

[509] Cozen.

[510] "At the loose"--at my dismissal of you. _Loose_ was a term in archery for the discharging of an arrow.

## ACT IV.

## SCENE I.

_Albano's house._

_Enter_ CELIA, MELETZA, LYZABETTA, _and_ LUCIA.

_Cel._ Faith, sister, I long to play with a feather! Prithee, Lucia, bring the shuttlecock.

_Mel._ Out on him, light-pated fantastic! He's like one of our gallants at----

_Lyz._ I wonder who thou speak'st well of.

_Mel._ Why, of myself; for, by my troth, I know none else will.

_Cel._ Sweet sister Meletza, let's sit in judgment a little, faith, of my servant, Monsieur[511] Laverdure.

_Mel._ Troth well, for a servant,[512] but for a husband [_sighs_] I----[513] 11

_Lyz._ Why, why?

_Mel._ Why, he is not a plain fool, nor fair, nor fat, nor rich, rich fool. But he is a knight; his honour will give the passado in the presence to-morrow night; I hope he will deserve. All I can say is as, as the common fiddlers will say[514] in their "God send you well to do."

_Lyz._ How think'st thou of the amorous Jacomo?

_Mel._ Jacomo? why, on my bare troth----

_Cel._ Why bare troth? 20

_Mel._ Because my troth is like his chin, t'hath no hair on't. God's me! his face looks like the head of a tabour; but trust me he hath a good wit.

_Lyz._ Who told you so?

_Mel._ One that knows; one that can tell.

_Cel._ Who's that?

_Mel._ Himself.

_Lyz._ Well, wench; thou hadst a servant, one Fabius; what hast thou done with him? 29

_Mel._ I done with him? Out of him, puppy! By this feather, his beard is directly brick-colour, and perfectly fashion'd like the husk of a chestnut; he kisses with the driest lip. Fie on him!

_Cel._ O, but your servant Quadratus, the absolute courtier!

_Mel._ Fie, fie! Speak no more of him: he lives by begging. He is a fine courtier, flatters admirable, kisses "fair madam," smells surpassing sweet; wears and holds up the arras, supports the tapestry, when I pass into the presence, very gracefully; and I assure you---- 40

_Luc._ Madam, here is your shuttlecock.

_Mel._ Sister, is not your waiting-wench rich?

_Cel._ Why, sister, why?

_Mel._ Because she can flatter. Prithee call her not: she has twenty-four hours to madam[515] yet. Come, you; you prate: i'faith, I'll toss you from post to pillar!

_Cel._ You post and I pillar.

_Mel._ No, no, you are the only post; you must support, prove a wench, and bear; or else all the building of your delight will fall---- 50

_Cel._ Down.

_Lyz._ What, must I stand out?

_Mel._ Ay, by my faith, till you be married.

_Lyz._ Why do you toss then?

_Mel._ Why, I am wed, wench.

_Cel._ Prithee to whom?

_Mel._ To the true husband, right head of a woman--my will, which vows never to marry till I mean to be a fool, a slave, starch cambric ruffs, and make candles; (pur!)--'tis down, serve again, good wench. 60

_Luc._ By your pleasing cheek, you play well.

_Mel._ Nay, good creature, prithee do not flatter me. I thought 'twas for something you go cased in your velvet scabbard; I warrant these laces were ne'er stitch'd on with true stitch. I have a plain waiting-wench; she speaks plain, and, faith, she goes plain; she is virtuous, and because she should go like virtue, by the consent of my bounty, she shall never have above two smocks to her back, for that's the fortune of desert, and the main in fashion or reward of merit; (pur)!--just thus do I use my servants. I strive to catch them in my racket, and no sooner caught, but I toss them away: if he fly well and have good feathers, I play with him[516] till he be down, and then my maid serves him to me again: if a slug, and weak-wing'd, if he be down, there let him lie. 75

_Cel._ Good Mell, I wonder how many servants thou hast.

_Mel._ Troth, so do I; let me see--Dupatzo.

_Lyz._ Dupatzo, which Dupatzo?

_Mel._ Dupatzo, the elder brother, the fool; he that bought the halfpenny riband, wearing it in his ear,[517] swearing 'twas the Duchess of Milan's favour; he into whose head a man may travel ten leagues before he can meet with his eyes. Then there's my chub, my epicure, Quadratus, that rubs his guts, claps his paunch, and cries Rivo! entertaining my ears perpetually with a most strong discourse of the praise of bottle-ale and red herrings. Then there's Simplicius Faber. 87

_Lyz._ Why, he is a fool!

_Mel._ True, or else he would ne'er be my servant. Then there's the cape-cloak'd courtier, Baltazar; he wears a double, treble, quadruple ruff, ay, in the summertime. Faith, I ha' servants enow, and I doubt not but by my ordinary pride and extraordinary cunning to get more.--Monsieur Laverdure, with a troop of gallants, is ent'ring.

_Lyz._ He capers the lascivious blood about Within heart-pants, nor leaps the eye nor lips: Prepare yourselves to kiss, for you must be kiss'd. 98

_Mel._ By my troth, 'tis a pretty thing to be towards marriage; a pretty loving----Look, where he comes. Ha! ha!

_Enter_[518] LAVERDURE, QUADRATUS, LAMPATHO, _and_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Lav._ Good day, sweet love.

_Mel._ Wish her good night, man.

_Lav._ Good morrow, sister.

_Mel._ A curtsey to your[519] caper: to-morrow morn I'll call you brother.

_Lav._ But much much falls betwixt the cup and lip.

_Mel._ Be not too confident, the knot may slip.

_Qua._ Bounty, blessedness, and the spirit of wine attend my mistress. 110

_Mel._ Thanks, good chub.

_Sim._ God[520] ye good morrow heartily, mistress; and how do you since last I saw you?

_Qua._ God's me, you must not enquire how she does; that's privy counsel. Fie! there's manners indeed!

_Sim._ Pray you, pardon my incivility. I was somewhat bold with you, but believe me I'll never be so saucy to ask you how do you again as long as I live. La!

_Mel._ Square chub, what sullen black is that? 119

_Qua._ A tassel that hangs at my purse-strings. He dogs me, and I give him scraps, and pay for his ordinary, feed him; he liquors himself in the juice of my bounty; and when he hath suck'd up strength of spirit he squeezeth it in my own face; when I have refined and sharp'd his wits with good food, he cuts my fingers, and breaks jests upon me. I bear them, and beat him; but by this light the dull-ey'd thinks he does well, does very well; and but that he and I are of two faiths--I fill my belly, and [he] feeds his brain--I could find in my heart to hug him--to hug him. 130

_Mel._ Prithee, persuade him to assume spirit, and salute us.

_Qua._ Lampatho, Lampatho, art out of countenance? For wit's sake, salute these beauties. How doest like them?

_Lam._ Uds fut! I can liken them to nothing but great men's great horse upon great days, whose tails are truss'd up in silk and silver.

_Qua._ To them, man; salute them.

_Lam._ Bless you, fair ladies! God make you all his servants! 141

_Mel._ God make you all his servants!

_Qua._ He is holpen well had need of you; for be it spoken without profanism, he hath more in this train. I fear me you ha' more servants than he: I am sure the devil is an angel of darkness.

_Lam._ Ay, but those are angels of light.

_Qua._ Light angels; prithee leave them; withdraw a little, and hear a sonnet; prithee hear a sonnet.

_Lam._ Made of Albano's widow that was, and Monsieur Laverdure's wife that must be. 151

_Qua._ Come, leave his lips, and command some liquor; if you have no bottle-ale, command some claret wine and borage,[521] for that's my predominate humour; sleek-bellied Bacchus, let's fill thy guts.

_Lam._ Nay, hear it, and relish it judiciously.

_Qua._ I do relish it most judicially.

[QUADRATUS _drinks_.

_Lam._ _Adored excellence! delicious, sweet!_

_Qua._ Delicious, sweet! good, very good!

_Lam._ _If thou canst taste the purer juice of love._ 160

_Qua._ If thou canst taste the purer juice; good still, good still. I do relish it; it tastes sweet.

_Lam._ Is not the metaphor good? Is't not well followed?

_Qua._ Passing good, very pleasing.

_Lam._ Is't not sweet?

_Qua._ Let me see't; I'll make it sweet; I'll soak it in the juice of Helicon. By'r Lady, passing sweet; good, passing sweet.

_Lam._ You wrong my muse.

_Qua._ The Irish flux upon thy muse, thy whorish muse. Here is no place for her loose brothelry. 170 We will not deal with her. Go! away, away!

_Lam._ I'll be revenged.

_Qua._ How, prithee? in a play? Come, come, be sociable. In private severance from society; Here leaps a vein of blood inflamed with love, Mounting to pleasure, all addict to mirth; Thou'lt read a satire or a sonnet now, Clagging their airy humour with----

_Lam._ Lamp-oil, watch-candles, rug-gowns,[522] and small juice, Thin commons, four o'clock rising,--I renounce you all. 180 Now may I 'ternally abandon meat, Rust, fusty, you which most embraced disuse, You ha' made me an ass; thus shaped my lot, I am a mere scholar, that is a mere sot.

_Qua._ Come, then, Lamp, I'll pour fresh oil into thee; Apply thy spirit, that it may nimbly turn Unto the habit, fashion of the age. I'll make thee man the scholar, enable thy behaviour Apt for the entertain of any presence. 189 I'll turn thee gallant: first thou shalt have a mistress: How is thy spirit raised to yonder beauty?-- She with the sanguine cheek, the[523] dimpled chin; The pretty amorous smile, that clips her lips And dallies 'bout her cheek; she with the speaking eye, That casts out beams as ardent as those flakes Which singed the world by rash-brain'd Phaethon; She with the lip;--O lips!--she, for whose sake A man could find in his heart to inhell himself! There's more philosophy, more theorems, More demonstrations, all invincible, 200 More clear divinity drawn on her cheek, Than in all volumes' tedious paraphrase Of musty eld. O, who would staggering doubt The soul's eternity, seeing it hath Of heavenly beauty but to case it up! Who would distrust a supreme existence, Able to confound, when it can create Such heaven on earth able to entrance, Amaze! O, 'tis Providence, not chance!

_Lam._ Now, by the front of Jove, methinks her eye Shoots more spirit in me. O beauty feminine; 211 How powerful art thou! What deep magic lies Within the circle of thy speaking eyes!

_Qua._ Why, now could I eat thee; thou doest please mine appetite. I can digest[524] thee. God make[525] thee a good fool, and happy, and ignorant, and amorous, and rich, and frail, and a satirist, and an essayist, and sleepy, and proud, and indeed a fool, and then thou shalt be sure of all these. Do but scorn her, she is thine own; accost her carelessly, and her eye promiseth she will be bound to the good abearing. 221

_Cel._ Now, sister Meletza, doest mark their craft; some straggling thoughts transport thy attentiveness from his discourse. Was't Jacomo's or our brother's plot?

_Lav._ Both, both, sweet lady; my page heard all: we met the rogue; so like Albano, I beat the rogue.

_Sim._ Ay, but when you were gone the rogue beat me.

_Lav._ Now, take my counsel: listen. 229

_Mel._ A pretty youth; a pretty well-shaped youth: a good leg, a very good eye, a sweet ingenious[526] face, and I warrant a good wit; nay, which is more, if he be poor, I assure my soul he is chaste and honest; good faith, I fancy I fancy him: ay, and I may chance;--well, I'll think the rest.

_Qua._ I say, be careless still: court her without compliment; take spirit.

_Lav._ Were' not a pleasing jest for me to clothe Another rascal like Albano, say, And rumour him return'd, without all deceit? 240 Would not beget errors most ridiculous?

_Qua._ _Meletza, bella, bellezza! Madonna, bella, bella, gentelezza!_ prithee kiss this initiated gallant.

_Mel._ How would it please you I should respect ye?

_Lam._ As anything, What You Will, as nothing.

_Mel._ As nothing! How will you value my love?

_Lam._ Why, just as you respect me--as nothing; for out of nothing, nothing is bred: so nothing shall not beget anything, anything bring nothing, nothing bring anything, anything and nothing shall be What You Will; my speech mounting to the value of myself, which is---- 252

_Mel._ What, sweet----

_Lam._ Your nothing, light as yourself, senseless as your sex, and just as you would ha' me--nothing.

_Mel._ Your wit skips a morisco; but, by the brightest spangle of my tire, I vouchsafe you entire unaffected favour. Wear this, gentle spirit, be not proud; Believe it, youth, slow speech swift love doth often shroud. 260

_Lam._ My soul's entranced; your favour doth transport My sense past sense, by your adorèd graces; I doat, am rapt!

_Mel._ Nay, if you fall to passion and past sense, My breast's no harbour for your love. Go, pack! hence!

_Qua._ Uds fut! thou gull! thou inky scholar! Ha, thou whoreson fop! Wilt not thou clap into our fashion'd gallantry? Couldst not be proud and scornful, loose and vain? God's my heart's object! what a plague is this? _My soul's entranced!_ Fut! couldst not clip and kiss? _My soul's entranced!_ ten thousand crowns at least 271 Lost, lost. _My soul's entranced!_ Love's life, O beast!

_Alb._ [_without_]. Celia, open; open, Celia: I would enter: open, Celia!

_Fran._ [_without_]. Celia, open; open, Celia: I would enter: open, Celia!

_Alb._ [_without_]. What, Celia, let in thy husband, Albano: what, Celia!

_Fran._ [_without_]. What, Celia, let in thy husband, Albano: what, Celia! 280

_Alb._ [_without_]. Uds f-f-f-fut! let Albano enter.

_Fran._ [_without_]. Uds f-f-f-fut! let Albano enter.

_Cel._ Sweet breast, you ha' play'd the wag, i'faith!

_Lav._[527] Believe it, sweet, not I.

_Mel._ Come, you have attired some fiddler like Albano, to fright the perfumer; there's the jest.

_Enter_[528] RANDOLFO, ANDREA, _and_ JACOMO.

_Ran._ Good fortunes to our sister.

_Mel._ And a speedy marriage.

_And._[529] Then we must wish her no good fortunes.

_Jaco._ For shame! for shame! Straight dear your house; sweep out this dust; fling out this trash; return to modesty. Your husband! I say, your husband Albano, that was supposed drown'd, is return'd,--ay, and at the door! 293

_Cel._ Ha, ha! My husband! Ha, ha!

_And._[530] Laugh you? Shameless! Laugh you?

_Cel._ Come, come, your plot's discover'd. Good faith, kinsmen, I am no scold. To shape a perfumer like my husband! O sweet jest!

_Jaco._ Lost[531] hopes! all known.

_Cel._ For penance of your fault, will you maintain a jest now? My love hath tired some fiddler like Albano, like the Perfumer. 302

_Lav._ Not I: by blessedness, not I.

_Mel._ Come, 'tis true. Do but support the jest, and you shall surfeit with laughter.

_Jaco._ Faith, we condescend; 'twill not be cross'd, I see. Marriage and hanging go by destiny.

_Alb._ [_without_]. B-b-b-bar out Albano! O adulterous, impudent!

_Fran._ [_without_]. B-b-b-bar out Albano! O thou matchless g-g-g-giglet![532] 311

_Qua._ Let them in! Let them in! Now, now, now! Observe, observe! Look, look, look!

_Enter_ ALBANO _and_ FRANCISCO.

_Jaco._ That same's a fiddler, shaped like thee. Fear nought; be confident: thou shalt know the jest hereafter: be confident; fear nought; blush not; stand firm. 317

_Alb._ Now, brothers; now, gallants; now, sisters; now call [me] a perfumer, a gutter-master. Bar me my house; beat me,--baffle[533] me,--scoff me,--deride me! Ha, that I were a young man again! By the mass, I would ha' you all by the ears, by the mass, law! I am Francisco Soranza! am I not, giglet, strumpet, cutters,[534] swaggerers, brothel-haunters? I am Francisco! O God! O slaves! O dogs, dogs, curs!

_Jaco._ No, sir; pray you, pardon us; we confess you are not Francisco, nor a perfumer, but even---- 327

_Alb._ But even Albano.

_Jaco._ But even a fiddler,--a minikin-tickler,[535]--a pumpum!

_Fran._ A scraper, scraper! Art not asham'd, before Albano's face, To clip his spouse? O shameless, impudent!

_Jaco._ Well said, perfumer.

_Alb._ A fiddler,--a scraper,--a minikin-tickler,--a pum, a pum!--even now a perfumer,--now a fiddler!--I will be even What You Will. Do, do, do, k-k-k-kiss my wife be-be-be-be-fore----

_Qua._ Why, wouldst have him kiss her behind?

_Alb._ Before my own f-f-f-face! 340

_Jaco._ Well done, fiddler!

_Alb._ I'll f-f-fiddle ye!

_Fran._ Dost f-f-flout me?

_Alb._ Dost m-m-m-mock me?

_Fran._ I'll to the duke. I'll p-p-p-paste up infamies on every post.

_Jaco._ 'Twas rarely, rarely done. Away, away! 347

[_Exit_ FRANCISCO.

_Alb._ I'll f-f-follow, though I st-st-st-stut; I'll stumble to the duke: in p-p-plain language, I pray you use my wife well. Good faith, she was a kind soul, and an honest woman once: I was her husband, and was called Albano, before I was drown'd; but now, after my resurrection, I am I know not what; indeed, brothers, and indeed, sisters, and indeed, wife, I am What You Will. Doest thou laugh? dost thou ge-ge-ge-gern?[536] A p-p-p-perfumer,--a fiddler, a--_Diabolo, matre de Dios_,--I'll f-f-f-firk you, by the Lord, now,[537] now I will!

[_Exit_ ALBANO.

_Qua._ Ha, ha! 'tis a good rogue, a good rogue!

_Lav._ A good rogue! Ha! I know him not.

_Cel._ No, good sweet love. Come, come, dissemble not. 360

_Lav._ Nay, if you dread nothing, happy be my lot. Come, _via_, _sest_;[538] come, fair cheeks; come, let's dance: The sweets of love is amorous dalliance.

_Cel._ All friends, all happy friends, my veins are light.

_Lyz._ Thy prayers are now, God send it quickly night!

_Mel._ And then come morning.

_Lyz._ Ay, that's the hopeful day.

_Mel._ Ay, there thou hitt'st it.

_Qua._ Pray God he hit it.

_Lav._ Play!

_The Dance._

_Jaco._ They say there's revels and a play at court.

_Lav._ A play to-night?

_Qua._ Ay, 'tis this gallant's wit.

_Jaco._ Is't good? Is't good?

_Lam._ I fear 'twill hardly hit. 370

_Qua._ I like thy fear well; 'twill have better chance; There's nought more hateful than rank ignorance.

_Cel._ Come, gallants, the table's spread; will you to dinner?

_Qua._ Yes; first a main at dice, and then we'll eat.

_Sim._ Truly the best wits have the badd'st fortune at dice still.

_Qua._ Who'll play? who'll play?

_Sim._ Not I; in truth I have still exceeding bad fortune at dice.

_Cel._ Come, shall we in? In faith thou art sudden sad. Doest fear the shadow of my long-dead lord? 381

_Lav._ Shadow! Ha! I cannot tell. Time trieth all things: well, well, well!

_Qua._ Would I were Time, then. I thought 'twas for something that the old fornicator was bald behind. Go; pass on, pass on.

[_Exeunt._

[511] Omitted in ed. 2.

[512] Lover, admirer.

[513] Old eds. "but for a husband (sigh) I." Dilke reads "but for a husband, fie, I----"

[514] It was customary for fiddlers to play beneath the bride's window on the morning after the wedding.

[515] Celia was to marry the knight on the following day.

[516] Old eds. "them."

[517] "_Punt._ Is she your mistress? "_Fast._ Faith, here be some slight favours of hers, sir, that do speak it she is; as this scarf, sir, or _this riband in my ear_, or so."--_Every Man out of his Humour_, ii. 1.

[518] Not marked in old eds.

[519] Ed. 1. "you."

[520] A common abbreviation for "God give you good morrow."

[521] Dilke has an extraordinary note:--"In Cotgrave's French Dictionary, Bourrachon is explained 'a tippler, quaffer, toss-pot, whip-can,' &c. _Burrage_ may therefore, I conceive, mean _beverage_." In that detestable concoction, claret-cup, the herb borage is still used; and Gerard, in his _Herbal_ (1597) tells us that "the leaves and flowers of borage put into wine maketh men and women glad and merry, and driveth away all sadness, dulness, and melancholy" (p. 654).

[522] Cf. _Every Man out of his Humour_, iii. 2:--"You sky-staring coxcombs you, you fat-brains, out upon you! You are good for nothing but to sweat night-caps and make _rug-gowns_ dear." Gifford remarks:--"This was the usual dress of mathematicians, astrologers, &c., when engaged in their sublime speculations."

[523] Ed. 2. "that."

[524] Ed. 1. "disist."

[525] Old eds. "made."

[526] Ed. 2. "ingenuous." See note 1, p. 109.

[527] Old eds. "_Qua._"

[528] Not marked in old eds.

[529] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[530] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[531] Old eds. "Last."

[532] Wanton woman.

[533] Insult.

[534] Huffing gallants, roisterers.

[535] _Tickle the minikin_--play on the fiddle. Cf. Middleton's _Family of Love_, i. 3:--"One touches the bass, the other _tickles the minikin_."

[536] Grin, snarl.

[537] Ed. 2. "now, now, now."

[538] See note, p. 374.

## ACT V.

## SCENE I.

ALBANO'S _house; a Street; the Duke's palace_.

_The curtains are drawn by a Page, and_ CELIA _and_ LAVERDURE, QUADRATUS _and_ LYZABETTA, LAMPATHO _and_ MELETZA, SIMPLICIUS _and_ LUCIA, _displayed, sitting at dinner. The song is sung, during which a Page whispers with_ SIMPLICIUS.

_Qua._ _Feed,_[539] _and be fat, my fair Calipolis._ Rivo,[540] here's good juice, fresh borage, boy!

_Lam._ I commend, commend myself to ye, lady.

_Mel._ In troth, sir, you dwell far from neighbours, that are enforced to commend yourself.

_Qua._ Why, Simplicius, whither now, man? for good fashion's sake, stir not; sit still, sit still.

_Sim._ I must needs rise; much good do it you.

_Qua._ Doest thou think thy rising will do them much good? Sit still; sit still; carve me of that, good Meletza. Fill, Bacchus, fill! 11

_Sim._ I must needs be gone; and you'll come to my chamber to-morrow morning, I send you a hundred crowns.

_Qua._ In the name of prosperity, what tide of happiness so suddenly flow'd upon thee?

_Sim._ I'll keep a horse and four boys, with grace of fortune now.

_Qua._ Now, then, i'faith, get up and ride. 19

_Sim._ And I do not, I'll thwack[541] a jerkin till he groan again with gold lace. Let me see; what should I desire of God? Marry, a cloak, lined with rich taffeta; white satin suit; and my gilt rapier from pawn: nay, she shall give me a chain of pearl, that shall pay for all. Good-bye, good signior; good-bye, good signior.

_Qua._ Why, now, thou speaketh in the most embraced fashion that our time hugs; no sooner a good fortune or a fresh suit falls upon a fellow that would ha' been gull'd to ha' shoved into your society, but, and he me[e]t you, he fronts you with a faint eye, throws a squint glance over a wried shoulder, and cries 'twixt the teeth, as very parsimonious of breath, "Good-bye, good signior; good-bye, good signior." Death, I will search the lifeblood of your hopes. 34

_Sim._ And a fresh pearl-colour silk stocking----O ay, ay, ay, ay, I'll go to the half-crown ordinary[542] every meal; I'll have my ivory box of tobacco; I'll converse with none but counts and courtiers. Now,--good-bye, good signior,--a pair of massy silver spurs, too, a hatch[543] short sword, and then your embroider'd hanger;[544] and, good signior---- 41

_Qua._ Shut the windows, darken the room, fetch whips; the fellow is mad: he raves, he raves,--talks idly,--lunatic: who procures thy----

_Sim._ One that has ate fat capon, suck'd the boil'd chicken, and let out his wit with the fool of bounty, one Fabius. I'll scorn him; he goes upon Fridays in black satin. 48

_Qua._ Fabius! By this light, a cogging cheator:[545] he lives on love of merchants' wives; he stands on the base of mains;[546] he furnisheth your ordinary, for which he feeds scot-free; keeps fair gold in his purse, to put on upon mains, by which he lives, and keeps a fair boy at his heels: he is damn'd Fabius.

_Sim._ He is a fine man, law, and has a good wit; for when he list he can go in black satin, ay, and in a cloak lined with unshorn velvet. 57

_Qua._ By the salvation of humanity, he's more pestilent than the plague of lice that fell upon Egypt; thou hast been knave if thou credit it; thou art an ass if thou follow it; and shalt be a perpetual idiot if thou pursue it: renounce the world, the flesh, the devil, and thy trust in men's wives, for they will double with thee: and so I betake myself to the sucking of the juice capon, my ingle bottle-ale, and his gentleman usher, that squirers him, red herring. A fool I found thee and a fool I leave thee; bear record, Heaven, 'tis against the providence of my speech. Good-bye, good signior.

[_Exit._

_Enter_ SLIP, NOUS, DOIT, _and_ BIDET.

_Sim._ Ha, ha, ha! Good-bye, good signior! What a fool 'tis! Ha, ha, what an ass 'tis! Save you, young gentlemen, is she coming? Will she meet me? Shall's encounter? Ha? 72

_Bid._ You were not lapt in your mother's smock:[547] you ha' not a good cheek, an enticing eye, a smooth skin, a well-shaped leg, a fair hand: you cannot bring a wench into a fool's paradise for you.

_Sim._ Not I, by this garter. I am a fool, a very ninny, I! How call you her? How call you her?

_Bid._ Call her? You rise on your right side to-day, marry. Call her? her name is Mistress Perpetuana: she is not very fair, nor goes extraordinary gay. 81

_Sim._ She has a good skin?

_Bid._ A good skin? She is wealthy; her husband's a fool: she'll make you; she wears the breeches: she'll make you----

_Sim._ I'll keep two men, and they shall be tailors; they shall make suits continually, and those shall be cloth of silver. 88

_Bid._ You may go in beaten precious stones every day. Marry, I must acquaint you with some observances, which you must pursue most religiously. She has a fool; a natural fool waits on her, that is indeed her pander; to him, at the first, you must be bounteous; whatsoe'er he craves,--be it your hat, cloak, rapier, purse, or such trifle,--give't, give't; the night will pay all; and to draw all suspect from pursuing her love for base gain sake. 97

_Sim._ Give't? by this light, I'll give't, were't--Gain! I care not for her chain of pearl, only her love: gain! The first thing her bounty shall fetch is my blush-colour satin suit from pawn: gain!

_Bid._ When you hear one wind a cornet, she is coming down Saint Mark's Street: prepare your speech, suck your lips, lighten your spirits, fresh your blood, sleek your cheeks, for now thou shalt be made for ever (a perpetual and eternal gull).

[_Exit_ BIDET.

_Sim._ I shall so ravish her with my courtship; I have such variety of discourse, such copy[548] of phrase to begin, as this:--Sweet lady, Ulysses' dog, after his master's ten years' travel--I shall so tickle her: or thus,--Pure beauty, there is a stone[549]---- 111

_Slip._ Two stones, man.

_Sim._ Call'd--'tis no matter what. I ha' the eloquence; I am not to seek, I warrant you.

_The cornet is winded. Enter_ PIPPO, BIDET; Pippo _attired like a merchant's wife, and_ BIDET _like a fool_.

Sweet lady, Ulysses' dog, there's a stone called---- O Lord! what shall I say?

_Slip._ Is all your eloquence come to this?

_Sim._ The glorious radiant of your glimmering eyes, your glittering beauties blind my wit, and dazzle my----

_Pip._ I'll put on my mask, and please you; pray you, wink, pray you. 121

_Bid._ O fine man! my mistress loves you best. I dreamt you ga' me this sword and dagger. I love your hat and feather, O----

_Sim._ Do not cry, man; do not cry, man: thou shalt ha' them. Ay, and they were----

_Bid._ O, that purse, with all the white pence in it! Fine man! I love you! Give you the fine red pence soon at night? He! I thank you: where's the fool now? 130

_Sim._ He has all my money; I have to keep myself, and----

_Slip._ Poght!

_Pip._ Sir, the fool shall lead you to my house; the fool shall not. At night I expect you: till then, take this seal of my affection.

_Qua._ [_within_]. What, Simplicius!

_Sim._ I come, Quadratus. Gentlemen, as yet I can but thank you; but I must be trusted for my ordinary soon at night: or stay, I'll--The fool has unfurnish'd me; but 'twill come again, good bye. 141

_Qua._ [_within_]. What, ho! Simplicius!

_Sim._ Good bye, good boys. I come, I come, good bye,[550] good boys.

[_Exit._

_Bid._ The fool shall wait on thee. Now, do I merit to be yclept, _Bosphoros Carmelydon Honorificacuminos Bidet_? Who, who has any square dice?

_Pip._ Marry, sir, that have I.

_Bid._ Thou shalt lose thy share for it in our purchase.[551]

_Pip._ I pray you now, pray you now. 150

_Bid._ Sooner the whistle[552] of a mariner Shall sleek the rough curbs of the ocean back.-- Now speak I like myself: thou shalt lose thy share.

_Enter_ Quadratus, LAVERDURE, _and_ CELIA; SIMPLICIUS, MELETZA, Lyzabetta, LUCIA, _and_ LAMPATHO.

_Pip._ Ha! take all, then. Ha!

_Qua._ Without cloak, or hat, or rapier? Fie!

_Sim._ God's me! Look yonder. Who gave you these things?

_Bid._ Mistress Perpetuana's fool.

_Sim._ Mistress Perpetuana's fool! Ha, ha! there lies a jest. Signor, the fool promised me he would not leave me. 161

_Bid._ I know the fool well. He will stick to you: does not use to forsake any youth that is enamour'd on another man's wife; he strives to keep company with a crimson satin suit continually; he loves to be all one with a critic; a good wit, self-conceited, a hawk-bearer, a dog-keeper, and great with the nobility; he doats upon a mere scholar, an honest flat fool; but, above all, he is all one with a fellow whose cloak hath a better inside than his outside, and his body richer lined than his brain. 171

_Sim._ Uds so! I am cozened.

_Pip._ Pray you, master, pardon me; I must lose my share.

_Sim._ Give me my purse again.

_Bid._ You gave it me, and I'll keep't.

_Qua._ Well done, my honest crack, thou shalt be my ingle for't.

_Lav._ He shall keep all, maugre thy beardless chin, thy eyes. 180

_Sim._ I may go starve till midsummer quarter.

_Qua._ Fool! Get thee hence.

_Pip._ I'll to school again, that I will: I left in _ass in presenti_, and I'll begin in _ass in presenti_; and so good night, fair gentry.

[_Exit_ PIPPO.

_Qua._ The triple idiot's coxcomb crown[553] thee, Bitter epigrams confound thee; Cuckold be whene'er thou bride thee; Through every comic scene be drawn; Never come thy clothes from pawn; 190 Never may thy shame be sheathed, Never kiss a wench sweet-breathed.

[_Cornets sound._

_Enter as many Pages with torches as you can_; RANDOLFO, ANDREA,[554] JACOMO _bare-headed; the Duke with attendants_.

_Ran._ Cease! the duke approacheth: 'tis almost night, For the duke's up: now begins his day. Come, grace his entrance. Lights! lights! Now 'gins our play.

_Duke._ Still these same bawling pipes: sound softer strains! Slumber our sense: tut! these are vulgar strains. Cannot your trembling wires throw a chain Of powerful rapture 'bout our mazèd sense? Why is our chair thus cushion'd tapestry, 200 Why is our bed tirèd with wanton sports, Why are we clothed in glistering attires, If common bloods can hear, can feel, Can sit as soft, lie as lascivious, Strut[555] all as rich as the greatest potentate:-- Soul! and you cannot feast my thristing[556] ears With aught but what the lip of common birth can taste, Take all away; your labour's idly waste. What sport for night?

_Lam._ A comedy, entitled Temperance. 210

_Duke._ What sot elects that subject for the court? What should dame Temperance do here? Away! The itch on Temperance, your moral play!

_Qua._ Duke, prince, royal blood!--thou that hast the best means to be damn'd of any lord in Venice;--thou great man! let me kiss thy flesh. I am fat,[557] and therefore faithful; I will do that which few of thy subjects do,--love thee: but I will never do that which all thy subjects do,--flatter thee thy humour's real, good. A comedy! 220 No, and thy sense would banquet in delights Appropriate to the blood of emperors, Peculiar to the state of majesty, That none can relish but dilated greatness, Vouchsafe to view the structure of a scene That stands on tragic solid passion. O that's fit traffic to commerce with births, Strain'd from the mud of base unable brains! Give them a scene may force their struggling blood Rise up on tiptoe in attention, 230 And fill their intellect with pure elixed wit; O that's for greatness apt, for princes fit!

_Duke._ Darest thou then undertake to suit our ears With such rich vestment?

_Qua._ Dare! Yes, my prince, I dare;--nay, more, I will. And I'll present a subject worth thy soul;-- The honour'd end of Cato Utican.

_Duke._ Who'll personate him?

_Qua._ Marry, that will I, on sudden, without change.

_Duke._ Thou want'st a beard. 240

_Qua._ Tush! a beard ne'er made Cato, though many men's Cato hang only on their chin. Suppose this floor the city Utica, The time the night that prolonged Cato's death; Now being placed 'mong his philosophers, These first discourse the soul's eternity.

_Jaco._ Cato grants that, I am sure, for he was valiant and honest, which an epicure ne'er was, and a coward never will be.

_Qua._ Then Cato holds a distinct notion 250 Of individual actions after death. This being argued, his resolve maintains A true magnanimous spirit should give up dirt To dirt, and with his own flesh dead his flesh, 'Fore chance should force it crouch unto his foe; To kill one's self, some ay, some hold it no. O these are points would entice away one's soul To break indenture of base prenticage,

_Enter_ FRANCISCO.

And run away from 's body in swift thoughts, To melt in contemplation's luscious sweets! 260 Now, O my voluptuous duke, I'll feed thy sense Worth his creation: give me audience.

_Fran._ My liege, my royal liege, hear, hear my suit.

_Qua._ Now may thy breath ne'er smell sweet as long as thy lungs can pant, for breaking my speech, thou Muscovite! thou stinking perfumer! 266

_Enter_ ALBANO.

_Duke._ Is not this Albano, our sometimes courtier?

_Fran._ No, troth, but Francisco, your always perfumer.

_Alb._ Lorenzo Celso, our brave Venice Duke, Albano Belletzo, thy merchant, thy soldier, thy courtier, thy slave, thy anything, thy What thou Wilt, kisseth thy noble blood. Do me right, or else I am canonized a cuckold! canonized a cuckold! I am abused!--I am abused!--my wife's abused!--my clothes abused!--my shape,--my house,--my all,--abused! I am sworn out of myself,--beated out of myself,--baffled,--jeer'd at,--laugh'd at,--barred my own house,--debarr'd my own wife!--whilst others swill my wines,--gormandize my meat, meat,--kiss my wife!--O gods! O gods! O gods! O gods! O gods! 280

_Lav._ Who is't? Who is't?

_Cel._ Come, sweet, this is your waggery, i'faith; as if you knew him not.

_Lav._ Yes, I fear I do too well: would I could slide away invisible.

_Duke._ Assured this is he.

_Jaco._ My worthy liege, the jest comes only thus. Now to stop and cross it with mere like deceit: All being known, the French knight hath disguised A fiddler, like Albano too, to fright the perfumer:--this is all. 291

_Duke._ Art sure 'tis true?

_Mel._ 'Tis confess'd 'tis right.

_Alb._ Ay, 'tis right, 'tis true; right; I am a fiddler, a fiddler, a fiddler,--uds fut! a fiddler. I'll not believe thee; thou art a woman: and 'tis known, _veritas non quærit angulos_, truth seeks not to lurk under varthingalls; _veritas non quærit angulos_; a fiddler?

_Lav._ Worthy sir, pardon; and permit me first to confess [to] yourself,--your deputation[558] dead, hath made my love live, to offend you. 301

_Alb._ Ay, mock on,--scoff on,--flout on,--do, do, do.

_Lav._ Troth, sir, in serious.

_Alb._ Ay, good, good; come hither, Celia. Burst, breast! rive, heart, asunder! Celia, Why startest thou back? Seest thou this, Celia? O me! How often, with lascivious touch, thy lip Hath kissed this mark? How oft this much-wrong'd breast Hath borne the gentle weight of thy soft cheek? 310

_Cel._ O me, my dearest lord,--my sweet, sweet love!

_Alb._ What, a fiddler,--a fiddler? now thy love? I am sure thou scorn'st it; nay, Celia, I could tell What, on the night before I went to sea, And took my leave, with hymeneal rites, What thou lisped Into my ear, a fiddler and perfumer now!

_And._[559] And----

_Ran._ Dear brother.

_Jaco._ Most respected signior; Believe it, by the sacred end of love, 320 What much, much wrong hath forced your patience, Proceeded from most dear affièd love, Devoted to your house.

_And._[559] Believe it, brother.

_Jaco._ Nay, yourself, when you shall hear the occurrences, will say 'tis happy, comical.

_Ran._ Assure thee, brother.

_Alb._ Shall I be brave? Shall I be myself now? Love, give me thy love; brothers, give me your breasts; French knight, reach me thy hand; perfumer, thy fist. Duke, I invite thee; love, I forgive thee; Frenchman, I hug thee. I'll know all,--I'll pardon all,--and I'll laugh at all!

[ALBANO _and his brothers talk apart_.

_Qua._ And I'll curse you all!--O ye ha' interrupt a scene! 334

_Duke._ Quadratus, we will hear these points discuss'd, With apter and more calm affected hours.

_Qua._ Well, good, good.

_Alb._ Was't even so? I'faith, why then, capricious mirth, Skip light moriscoes in our frolic blood,[560] Flagg'd veins, sweat,[561] plump with fresh-infusèd joys! Laughter, pucker our cheeks, make shoulders shog With chucking lightness! Love, once more thy lips! For ever clasp our hands, our hearts, our crests! 343 Thus front, thus eyes, thus cheek, thus all shall meet! Shall clip, shall hug, shall kiss, my dear, dear sweet! Duke, wilt thou see me revel? Come, love, dance Court, gallants, court; suck amorous dalliance!

_Lam._ Beauty, your heart!

_Mel._ First, sir, accept my hands: She leaps too rash that falls in sudden bands.

_Lam._ Shall I despair? Never will I love more! 350

_Mel._ No sea so boundless vast but hath a shore.

_Qua._ Why, marry me; Thou canst have but soft flesh, good blood, sound bones; And that which fills up all your bracks,--good stones.

_Lyz._ Stones, trees, and beasts, in love still firmer prove Than man; I'll none; no hold-fasts in your loves.

_Lav._ Since not the mistress,--come on, faith, the maid!

_Alb._ Ten thousand duckets, too, to boot, are laid.

_Lav._ Why, then, wind cornets, lead on, jolly lad.

_Alb._ Excuse me, gallants, though my legs lead wrong, 'Tis my first footing; wind out nimble tongue. 361

_Duke._ 'Tis well, 'tis well:--how shall we spend this night?

_Qua._ Gulp Rhenish wine, my liege; let our paunch rent; Suck merry jellies; preview, but not prevent, No mortal can, the miseries of life.

_Alb._ I home invite you all. Come, sweet, sweet wife. My liege, vouchsafe thy presence. Drink, till the ground look blue, boy!

_Qua._ Live still in springing hopes, still in fresh new joys!-- May your loves happy hit in fair-cheek'd wives, 370 Your flesh still plump with sapp'd restoratives. That's all my honest frolic heart can wish. A fico for the mew and envious pish! Till night, I wish good food and pleasing day; But then sound rest. So ends our slight-writ play.

[_Exeunt._

_Deo op: max: gratias._

END OF VOL. II.

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON.

[539] From the _Battle of Alcazar_, 1594 (attributed to Peele):--"Feed then and faint not, fair Calipolis." Pistol in 2 _Henry IV._ quotes the line as it is given by Marston.

[540] See note 4, p. 355. [Transcriber's Note: Footnote [452]]

[541] _i.e._, cover or embroider thickly. Cf. Guilpin's _Skialetheia_, epigr. 53:-- "He wears a jerkin _cudgell'd_ with gold lace, A profound slop, a hat scarce pipkin-high."

[542] Half-a-crown was a somewhat extravagant price for an ordinary. Two shillings or eighteenpence was the usual price for a good ordinary.

[543] _Hatch'd sword_ was a sword with an engraved hilt.

[544] See note, vol. i. p. 36.

[545] _Cheator_ was a cant term for a rogue who made his living by cheating at dice.--"Cheating Law--or the art of winning money by false dice: those that practise this study call themselves _cheators_, the dice cheaters, and the money which they purchase cheats."--Dekker's _Bellman of London_ (_Works_, ed. Grosart, iii. 117).

[546] Throws at dice.

[547] "_He was wrapt up in the tail of his mother's smock_,--saying of any one remarkable for his success with the ladies."--Grose's _Class. Dict. of the Vulgar Tongue_.

[548] _i.e._, copiousness.--Ben Jonson was fond of using the word _copy_ in this sense.

[549] Simplicius seems to be trying to recall some passage of _Euphues_.

[550] Old eds. "boyes."

[551] Plunder.

[552] "This may be an allusion," says Dilke, "to a superstition still existing in a degree among sailors, that to whistle during a storm will increase its violence." No such allusion is intended. The "whistle" is the boatswain's whistle.

[553] Old eds. "crownes."

[554] Old eds. "ADRIAN."

[555] Ed. 1. "stut."

[556] Ed. 2. "thirsting."--Spenser has _thrist_ and _thristy_ (for _thirst_ and _thirsty_).

[557] Cf. _Jul. Ceas._, i. 2:--"Let me have men about me that are fat," &c.

[558] _i.e._, the report that you were dead.

[559] Old eds. "_Adri._"

[560] Cf. _Second Part of Antonio and Mellida_, v. 2:-- "Force the plump-lipp'd god Skip light lavoltas in your full-sapp'd veins."

[561] Old eds. "sweete" and "sweet."

TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE:

Text was not wrapped so that line numbers would be consistent with the original text.

Punctuation, use of hyphens, and accent marks were standardized. Obsolete and alternative spellings were left unchanged. In Footnote [431], the letter 'i' with a macron is indicated '[=i]' and 'i' with a breve is indicated '[)i]'.

Footnotes were numbered sequentially, indented, and moved to the end of the scene to which they pertain. There are three anchors for Footnote [487], and two for Footnotes [488] and [559].

Phrases in Greek were transliterated.

The referenced work in Footnote [450] is missing the word 'Walden' after 'Saffron' in the original.

The following changes were made within the text:

Dutch Courtezan: Footnote [54], 'parabantar' to 'parabantur'

## Act IV, Scene V, line 99, 'Mal.' to 'Mul.'

## Act V, Scene I, line 20, 'Fa.' to 'Fra.'

The Fawn: Footnote [133], added 'Bacon' to 'History of Fryer Bacon'

## Act III, Scene I, line 540, 'Her.' to 'Herc.'

## Act V, Scene I. line 254, 'Donnella'; to 'Donnetta'

Footnote [149], 'Theallusi on' to 'The allusion' Footnote [264], 'ca' to 'cat' ... can turn a woman into a cat ...

What You Will:

## Act I, Scene I, line 129, 'Iaco.' to 'Jaco.'

## Act II, Scene I, line 6, 'mor' to 'mon' ... mon Dieu, ma vie ...

## Act III, Scene I, line 51, _Pan._ to _Ran._

End of Project Gutenberg's The Works of John Marston, by John Marston