Part 14

DE F. My thoughts are at a banquet; for the deed, I feel no weight in’t; ’tis but light and cheap For the sweet recompense that I set down for’t. [_Aside._ BEAT. De Flores! DE F. Lady? BEAT. Thy looks promise cheerfully. DE F. All things are answerable, time, circumstance, Your wishes, and my service. BEAT. Is it done, then? DE F. Piracquo is no more. BEAT. My joys start at mine eyes; our sweet’st delights Are evermore born weeping. DE F. I've a token for you. BEAT. For me? DE F. But it was sent somewhat unwillingly; I could not get the ring without the finger. [_Producing the ring._[454] BEAT. Bless me, what hast thou done? DE F. Why, is that more Than killing the whole man? I cut his heart-strings: A greedy hand thrust in a dish at court, In a mistake hath had as much as this. BEAT. ’Tis the first token my father made me send him. DE F. And I [have] made him send it back again For his last token; I was loath to leave it, And I'm sure dead men have no use of jewels; He was as loath to part with’t, for it stuck As if the flesh and it were both one substance. BEAT. At the stag’s fall, the keeper has his fees; ’Tis soon applied, all dead men’s fees are yours, sir: I pray, bury the finger, but the stone You may make use on shortly; the true value, Take’t of my truth, is near three hundred ducats. DE F. ’Twill hardly buy a capcase for one’s conscience though, To keep it from the worm, as fine as ’tis: Well, being my fees, I'll take it; Great men have taught me that, or else my merit Would scorn the way on’t. BEAT. It might justly, sir; Why, thou mistak’st, De Flores, ’tis not given In state of recompense. DE F. No, I hope so, lady; You should soon witness my contempt to’t then. BEAT. Prithee—thou look’st as if thou wert offended. DE F. That were strange, lady; ’tis not possible My service should draw such a cause from you: Offended! could you think so? that were much For one of my performance, and so warm Yet in my service. BEAT. ’Twere misery in me to give you cause, sir. DE F. I know so much, it were so; misery In her most sharp condition. BEAT. ’Tis resolv’d then; Look you, sir, here’s three thousand golden florens;[455] I have not meanly thought upon thy merit. DE F. What! salary? now you move me. BEAT. How, De Flores? DE F. Do you place me in the rank of verminous fellows, To destroy things for wages? offer gold [For] the life-blood of man? is any thing Valued too precious for my recompense? BEAT. I understand thee not. DE F. I could ha' hir’d A journeyman in murder at this rate, And mine own conscience might have [slept at ease],[456] And have had the work brought home. BEAT. I'm in a labyrinth; What will content him? I'd fain be rid of him. [_Aside._ I'll double the sum, sir. DE F. You take a course To double my vexation, that’s the good you do. BEAT. Bless me, I'm now in worse plight than I was; I know not what will please him. [_Aside._]—For my fear’s sake, I prithee, make away with all speed possible; And if thou be’st so modest not to name The sum that will content thee, paper blushes not, Send thy demand in writing, it shall follow thee; But, prithee, take thy flight. DE F. You must fly too then. BEAT. I? DE F. I'll not stir a foot else. BEAT. What’s your meaning? DE F. Why, are not you as guilty? in, I'm sure, As deep as I; and we should stick together: Come, your fears counsel you but ill; my absence Would draw suspect upon you instantly, There were no rescue for you. BEAT. He speaks home! [_Aside._ DE F. Nor is it fit we two, engag’d so jointly, Should part and live asunder. BEAT. How now, sir? This shews not well. DE F. What makes your lip so strange? This must not be betwixt us. BEAT. The man talks wildly! DE F. Come, kiss me with a zeal now. BEAT. Heaven, I doubt him! [_Aside._ DE F. I will not stand so long to beg ’em shortly. BEAT. Take heed, De Flores, of forgetfulness, 'Twill soon betray us. DE F. Take you heed first; Faith, you’re grown much forgetful, you’re to blame in’t. BEAT. He’s bold, and I am blam’d for’t. [_Aside._ DE F. I have eas’d you Of your trouble, think on it; I am in pain, And must be eas’d of you; ’tis a charity, Justice invites your blood to understand me. BEAT. I dare not. DE F. Quickly! BEAT. O, I never shall! Speak it yet further off, that I may lose What has been spoken, and no sound remain on’t; I would not hear so much offence again For such another deed. DE F. Soft, lady, soft! The last is not yet paid for: O, this act Has put me into spirit; I was as greedy on’t As the parch’d earth of moisture, when the clouds weep: Did you not mark, I wrought myself into ’t, Nay, sued and kneel’d for’t? why was all that pains took? You see I've thrown contempt upon your gold; Not that I want it [not], for I do piteously, In order I'll come unto ’t, and make use on’t, But ’twas not held so precious to begin with, For I place wealth after the heels of pleasure; And were I not resolv’d in my belief That thy virginity were perfect in thee, I should but take my recompense with grudging, As if I had but half my hopes I agreed for. BEAT. Why, ’tis impossible thou canst be so wicked, Or shelter such a cunning cruelty, To make his death the murderer of my honour! Thy language is so bold and vicious, I cannot see which way I can forgive it With any modesty. DE F. Push![457] you forget yourself; A woman dipp’d in blood, and talk of modesty! BEAT. O misery of sin! would I'd been bound Perpetually unto my living hate In that Piracquo, than to hear these words! Think but upon the distance that creation Set ’twixt thy blood and mine, and keep thee there. DE F. Look but into your conscience, read me there, ’Tis a true book, you’ll find me there your equal: Push![457] fly not to your birth, but settle you In what the act has made you, you’re no more now; You must forget your parentage to me; You are the deed’s creature; by that name You lost your first condition, and I challenge you, As peace and innocency have[458] turn’d you out, And made you one with me. BEAT. With thee, foul villain! DE F. Yes, my fair murderess; do you urge me? Though thou writ’st maid, thou whore in thy affection! ’Twas chang’d from thy first love, and that’s a kind Of whoredom in the[459] heart; and he’s chang’d now To bring thy second on, thy Alsemero, Whom, by all sweets that ever darkness tasted, If I enjoy thee not, thou ne’er enjoyest! I'll blast the hopes and joys of marriage, I'll confess all; my life I rate at nothing. BEAT. De Flores! DE F. I shall rest from all love’s[460] plagues then; I live in pain now; that shooting eye Will burn my heart to cinders. BEAT. O sir, hear me! DE F. She that in life and love refuses me, In death and shame my partner she shall be. BEAT. [_kneeling_] Stay, hear me once for all; I make thee master Of all the wealth I have in gold and jewels; Let me go poor unto my bed with honour, And I am rich in all things! DE F. Let this silence thee; The wealth of all Valencia shall not buy My pleasure from me; Can you weep Fate from its determin’d purpose? So soon may [you] weep me. BEAT. Vengeance begins; Murder, I see, is follow’d by more sins: Was my creation in the womb so curst, It must engender with a viper first? DE F. [_raising her_] Come, rise and shroud your blushes in my bosom; Silence is one of pleasure’s best receipts: Thy peace is wrought for ever in this yielding. 'Las, how the turtle pants! thou’lt love anon What thou so fear’st and faint’st to venture on. [_Exeunt._

ACT IV.

_Dumb Show._[461]

_Enter Gentlemen_, VERMANDERO _meeting them with action of wonderment at the disappearance of_ PIRACQUO. _Enter_ ALSEMERO, _with_ JASPERINO _and gallants_: VERMANDERO _points to him, the gentlemen seeming to applaud the choice_. ALSEMERO, VERMANDERO, JASPERINO, _and the others, pass over the stage with much pomp_, BEATRICE _as bride following in great state, attended by_ DIAPHANTA, ISABELLA, _and other gentlewomen_; DE FLORES _after all, smiling at the accident_:[462] ALONZO’S _ghost appears to him in the midst of his smile, and startles him, shewing the hand whose finger he had cut off_.

SCENE I.

ALSEMERO’S _apartment in the castle_.

_Enter_ BEATRICE.

BEAT. This fellow has undone me endlessly; Never was bride so fearfully distress’d: The more I think upon th' ensuing night, And whom I am to cope with in embraces, One who’s[463] ennobled both in blood and mind, So clear in understanding,—that’s my plague now,— Before whose judgment will my fault appear Like malefactors' crimes before tribunals; There is no hiding on’t, the more I dive Into my own distress: how a wise man Stands for a great calamity! there’s no venturing Into his bed, what course soe’er I light upon, Without my shame, which may grow up to danger; He cannot but in justice strangle me As I lie by him, as a cheater use me; ’Tis a precious craft to play with a false die Before a cunning gamester. Here’s his closet; The key left in’t, and he abroad i' th' park? Sure ’twas forgot; I'll be so bold as look in’t. [_Opens closet._ Bless me! a right physician’s closet ’tis, Set round with vials; every one her mark too: Sure he does practise physic for his own use, Which may be safely call’d your great man’s wisdom. What manuscript lies here? [_reads_] _The Book of Experiment, called Secrets in Nature_:[464] So ’tis, ’tis so; [_reads_] _How to know whether a woman be with child or no_: I hope I am not yet; if he should try though! Let me see, [_reads_] _folio forty-five_, here ’tis, The leaf tuck’d down upon’t, the place suspicious: [_reads_] _If you would know whether a woman be with child or not, give her two spoonfuls of the white water in glass C_— Where’s that glass C? O yonder, I see’t now— [_reads_] _and if she be with child, she sleeps full twelve hours after; if not, not_: None of that water comes into my belly; I'll know you from a hundred; I could break you now, Or turn you into milk, and so beguile The master of the mystery; but I'll look to you. Ha! that which is next is ten times worse: [_reads_] _How to know whether a woman be a maid or not_: If that should be applied, what would become of me? Belike he has a strong faith of my purity, That never yet made proof; but this he calls [_reads_] _A merry slight,[465] but true experiment; the author Antonius Mizaldus. Give the party you suspect the quantity of a spoonful of the water in the glass M, which, upon her that is a maid, makes three several effects; twill make her incontinently[466] gape, then fall into a sudden sneezing, last into a violent laughing; else, dull, heavy, and lumpish._ Where had I been? I fear it, yet ’tis seven hours to bed-time.

_Enter_ DIAPHANTA.

DIA. Cuds, madam, are you here? BEAT. Seeing that wench now, A trick comes in my mind; ’tis a nice piece Gold cannot purchase. [_Aside._]—I come hither, wench, To look my lord. DIA. Would I had such a cause To look him too! [_Aside._]—Why, he’s i' th' park, madam. BEAT. There let him be. DIA. Ay, madam, let him compass Whole parks and forests, as great rangers do, At roosting-time a little lodge can hold ’em: Earth-conquering Alexander, that thought the world Too narrow for him, in th' end had but his pit-hole. BEAT. I fear thou art not modest, Diaphanta. DIA. Your thoughts are so unwilling to be known, madam! ’Tis ever the bride’s fashion, towards bed-time, To set light by her joys, as if she ow’d ’em not.[467] BEAT. Her joys? her fears thou wouldst say. DIA. Fear of what? BEAT. Art thou a maid, and talk’st so to a maid? You leave a blushing business behind; Beshrew your heart for’t! DIA. Do you mean good sooth, madam? BEAT. Well, if I'd thought upon the fear at first, Man should have been unknown. DIA. Is’t possible? BEAT. I'd[468] give a thousand ducats to that woman Would try what my fear were, and tell me true To-morrow, when she gets from’t; as she likes, I might perhaps be drawn to’t. DIA. Are you in earnest? BEAT. Do you get the woman, then challenge me, And see if I'll fly from’t; but I must tell you This by the way, she must be a true maid, Else there’s no trial, my fears are not her’s else. DIA. Nay, she that I would put into your hands, madam, Shall be a maid. BEAT. You know I should be sham’d else, Because she lies for me. DIA. ’Tis a strange humour! But are you serious still? would you resign Your first night’s pleasure, and give money too? BEAT. As willingly as live.—Alas, the gold Is but a by-bet to wedge in the honour! [_Aside._ DIA. I do not know how the world goes abroad For faith or honesty; there’s both requir’d in this. Madam, what say you to me, and stray no further; I've a good mind, in troth, to earn your money. BEAT. You are too quick, I fear, to be a maid. DIA. How? not a maid? nay, then you urge me, madam; Your honourable self is not a truer, With all your fears upon you—— BEAT. Bad enough then. [_Aside._ DIA. Than I with all my lightsome joys about me. BEAT. I'm glad to hear’t; then you dare put your honesty Upon an easy trial. DIA. Easy? any thing. BEAT. I'll come to you straight. [_Goes to the closet._ DIA. She will not search me, will she, Like the forewoman of a female jury? BEAT. Glass M: ay, this is it. [_Brings vial._]— Look, Diaphanta, You take no worse than I do. [_Drinks._ DIA. And in so doing, I will not question what it is, but take it. [_Drinks._ BEAT. Now if th' experiment be true, ’twill praise itself, And give me noble ease: begins already; [DIAPHANTA _gapes_. There’s the first symptom; and what haste it makes To fall into the second, there by this time! [DIAPHANTA _sneezes_.

Most admirable secret! on the contrary, It stirs not me a whit, which most concerns it. [_Aside._ DIA. Ha, ha, ha! BEAT. Just in all things, and in order As if ’twere circumscrib’d; one accident Gives way unto another. [_Aside._ DIA. Ha, ha, ha! BEAT. How now, wench? DIA. Ha, ha, ha! I'm so, so light At heart—ha, ha, ha!—so pleasurable! But one swig more, sweet madam. BEAT. Ay, to-morrow, We shall have time to sit by’t. DIA. Now I'm sad again. Beat. It lays itself so gently too! [_Aside._]—Come, wench, Most honest Diaphanta I dare call thee now. DIA. Pray, tell me, madam, what trick call you this? BEAT. I'll tell thee all hereafter; we must study The carriage of this business. DIA. I shall carry’t well, Because I love the burthen. BEAT. About midnight You must not fail to steal forth gently, That I may use the place. DIA. O, fear not, madam, I shall be cool by that time: the bride’s place, And with a thousand ducats! I'm for a justice now, I bring a portion with me; I scorn small fools. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_Another apartment in the castle._

_Enter_ VERMANDERO _and Servant_.

VER. I tell thee, knave, mine honour is in question, A thing till now free from suspicion, Nor ever was there cause. Who of my gentlemen Are absent? Tell me, and truly, how many, and who? SER. Antonio, sir, and Franciscus. VER. When did they leave the castle? SER. Some ten days since, sir; the one intending to Briamata,[469] th' other for Valencia. VER. The time accuses ’em; a charge of murder Is brought within my castle-gate, Piracquo’s murder; I dare not answer faithfully their absence: A strict command of apprehension Shall pursue ’em suddenly, and either wipe The stain off clear, or openly discover it. Provide me wingèd warrants for the purpose. [_Exit Servant._ See, I am set on again.

_Enter_ TOMASO.

TOM. I claim a brother of you. VER. You’re too hot; Seek him not here. TOM. Yes, ’mongst your dearest bloods, If my peace find no fairer satisfaction: This is the place must yield account for him, For here I left him; and the hasty tie Of this snatch’d marriage gives strong testimony Of his most certain ruin. VER. Certain falsehood! This is the place indeed; his breach of faith Has too much marr’d both my abusèd love, The honourable love I reserv’d for him, And mock’d my daughter’s joy; the prepar’d morning Blush’d at his infidelity; he left Contempt and scorn to throw upon those friends Whose belief hurt ’em: O, ’twas most ignoble To take his flight so unexpectedly, And throw such public wrongs on those that lov’d him! TOM. Then this is all your answer?s VER. ’Tis too fair For one of his alliance; and I warn you That this place no more see you. [_Exit._

_Enter_ DE FLORES.

TOM. The best is, There is more ground to meet a man’s revenge on.— Honest De Flores? DE F. That’s my name, indeed. Saw you the bride? good sweet sir, which way took she? TOM. I've bless’d mine eyes from seeing such a false one. DE F. I'd fain get off, this man’s not for my company, I smell his brother’s blood when I come near him. [_Aside._ TOM. Come hither, kind and true one; I remember My brother lov’d thee well. DE F. O, purely, dear sir!— Methinks I'm now again a-killing on him, He brings it so fresh to me. [_Aside._ TOM. Thou canst guess, sirrah— An[470] honest friend has an instinct of jealousy— At some foul guilty person. DE F. Alas, sir, I am so charitable, I think none Worse than myself! you did not see the bride then? TOM. I prithee, name her not: is she not wicked? DE F. No, no; a pretty, easy, round-pack’d[471] sinner, As your most ladies are, else you might think I flatter’d her; but, sir, at no hand wicked, Till they’re so old their sins and vices[472] meet, And they salute witches. I'm call’d, I think, sir.— His company even overlays my conscience. [_Aside, and exit._ TOM. That De Flores has a wondrous honest heart; He’ll bring it out in time, I'm assur’d on’t. O, here’s the glorious master of the day’s joy! 'Twill[473] not be long till he and I do reckon.

_Enter_ ALSEMERO.

Sir. ALS. You’re most welcome. TOM. You may call that word back, I do not think I am, nor wish to be. ALS. ’Tis strange you found the way to this house then. TOM. Would I'd ne’er known the cause! I'm none of those, sir, That come to give you joy, and swill your wine; ’Tis a more precious liquor that must lay The fiery thirst I bring. ALS. Your words and you Appear to me great strangers. TOM. Time and our swords May make us more acquainted; this the business. I should have [had] a brother in your place; How treachery and malice have dispos’d of him, I'm bound to inquire of him which holds his right, Which never could come fairly. ALS. You must look To answer for that word, sir. TOM. Fear you not, I'll have it ready drawn at our next meeting. Keep your day solemn; farewell, I disturb it not; I'll bear the smart with patience for a time. [_Exit._ ALS. ’Tis somewhat ominous this; a quarrel enter’d Upon this day; my innocence relieves me,

_Enter_ JASPERINO.

I should be wondrous sad else.—Jasperino, I've news to tell thee, strange news. JASP. I ha' some too, I think as strange as yours: would I might keep Mine, so my faith and friendship might be kept in’t! Faith, sir, dispense a little with my zeal, And let it cool in this. ALS. This puts me on, And blames thee for thy slowness. JAS. All may prove nothing, Only a friendly fear that leapt from me, sir. ALS. No question, ’t may prove nothing; let’s partake it though. JAS. ’Twas Diaphanta’s chance—for to that wench I pretend[474] honest love, and she deserves it— To leave me in a back part of the house, A place we chose for private conference; She was no sooner gone, but instantly I heard your bride’s voice in the next room to me; And lending more attention, found De Flores Louder than she. ALS. De Flores! thou art out now. JAS. You’ll tell me more anon. ALS. Still I'll prevent[475] thee, The very sight of him is poison to her. JAS. That made me stagger too; but Diaphanta At her return confirm’d it. ALS. Diaphanta! JAS. Then fell we both to listen, and words pass’d Like those that challenge interest in a woman. ALS. Peace; quench thy zeal, ’tis dangerous to thy bosom. JAS. Then truth is full of peril. ALS. Such truths are. O, were she the sole glory of the earth, Had eyes that could shoot fire into kings' breasts, And touch’d,[476] she sleeps not here! yet I have time, Though night be near, to be resolv’d[477] hereof; And, prithee, do not weigh me by my passions. JAS. I never weigh’d friend so. ALS. Done charitably! That key will lead thee to a pretty secret, [_Giving key._

By a Chaldean taught me, and I have My study upon some: bring from my closet A glass inscrib’d there with the letter M, And question not my purpose. JAS. It shall be done, sir. [_Exit._ ALS. How can this hang together? not an hour since Her woman came pleading her lady’s fears, Deliver’d her for the most timorous virgin That ever shrunk at man’s name, and so modest, She charg’d her weep out her request to me, That she might come obscurely to my bosom.

_Enter_ BEATRICE.

BEAT. All things go well; my woman’s preparing yonder For her sweet voyage, which grieves me to lose; Necessity compels it; I lose all else. [_Aside._ ALS. Push![478] modesty’s shrine is set in yonder forehead: I cannot be too sure though. [_Aside._]—My Joanna! BEAT. Sir, I was bold to weep a message to you; Pardon my modest fears. ALS. The dove’s not meeker; She’s abus’d, questionless. [_Aside._

_Re-enter_ JASPERINO _with vial_.