Part 13
Invention, fail me not: ’tis a gallant credit To marry one’s whore bravely. [_Aside._ VORT. Have I power Of life and death, and cannot command ease In my own blood? After I was a king, I thought I never should have felt pain more; That there had been a ceasing of all passions And common stings, which subjects use to feel, That were created with a patience fit For all extremities. But such as we Know not the way to suffer; then to do it, How most preposterous ’tis! Tush, riddles, riddles! I’ll break through custom. Why should not the mind, The nobler part that’s of us, be allow’d Change of affections, as our bodies are Change of food and raiment? I’ll have it so. All fashions appear strange at first production; But this would be well followèd.—O, captain! HOR. My lord, I grieve for you; I scarce fetch breath, But a sigh hangs at the end of it: but this Is not the way, if you’d[429] give way to counsel. VORT. Set me right then, or I shall heavily curse thee For lifting up my understanding to me, To shew that I was wrong. Ignorance is safe; I then slept happily: if knowledge mend me not, Thou hast committed a most cruel sin, To wake me into judgment, and then leave me. HOR. I will not leave you, sir; that were rudely done. First, you’ve a flame too open and too violent, Which, like blood-guiltiness in an offender, Betrays him when nought else can. Out with’t,[430] sir; Or let some cunning coverture be made Before your practice[431] enters: ’twill spoil all else. VORT. Why, look you, sir; I can be as calm as silence All the while music plays. Strike on, sweet friend, As mild and merry as the heart of innocence; I prithee, take my temper. Has a virgin A heat more modest? HOR. He does well to ask me; I could have told him once. [_Aside._]—Why, here’s a government! There’s not a sweeter amity in friendship Than in this league ’twixt you and health. VORT. Then since Thou find’st me capable of happiness, Instruct me with the practice. HOR. What will you say, my lord, If I ensnare her in an act[432] of lust? VORT.[433] O, there were art to the life! but ’tis impossible; I prithee, flatter me no farther with it. Fie! so much sin as goes to make up that, Will ne’er[434] prevail with her. Why, I’ll tell you, sir, She’s so sin-killing modest, that if only To move the question were enough adultery To cause a separation, there’s no gallant So brassy-impudent durst undertake The words that shall belong to’t. HOR. Say you so, sir? There’s nothing made in the world but has a way to’t; Though some be harder than the rest to find, Yet one there is, that’s certain; and I think I’ve took the course to light on’t.[435] VORT. O, I pray for’t! HOR. I heard you lately say (from whence, my lord, My practice[436] receiv’d life first), that your queen Still consecrates her time to contemplation, Takes solitary walks. VORT. Nay, late and early Commands her weak guard from her, which are but Women at strongest. HOR. I like all this, my lord: And now, sir, you shall know what net is us’d In many places to catch modest women, Such as will never yield by prayers or gifts. Now there be some will catch up men as fast; But those she-fowlers nothing concern us; Their birding is at windows; ours abroad, Where ring-doves should be caught, that’s married wives, Or chaste maids; what the appetite has a mind to. VORT. Make no pause then. HOR. The honest gentlewoman, When nothing will prevail—I pity her now— Poor soul, she’s entic’d forth by her own sex To be betray’d to man; who in some garden-house[437] Or remote walk, taking his lustful time, Binds darkness on her eyelids, surprises her; And having a coach ready, turns her in, Hurrying her where he list for the sin’s safety, Making a rape of honour without words; And at the low ebb of his lust, perhaps Some three days after, sends her coach’d again To the same place; and, which would make most mad, She’s robb’d of all, yet knows not where she’s robb’d, There’s the dear precious mischief! VORT. Is this practis’d? HOR. Too much, my lord, to be so little known; A springe to catch a maidenhead after sun-set, Clip it, and send it home again to the city, There ’twill ne’er be perceiv’d. VORT. My raptures want expression; I conceit[438] Enough to make me fortunate, and thee great. HOR. I praise it then, my lord.—I knew ’twould take. [Aside.] [Exeunt.
## SCENE II.
_Grounds near the Palace._
_Enter_ CASTIZA _with a book, and two_ LADIES.
CAST. Methinks, you live strange lives; when I see it not, It grieves me less; you know how to ease me then: If you but knew how well I lov’d your absence, You would bestow’t[439] upon me without asking. FIRST LADY. Faith, for my part, were it no more for ceremony than for love, you should walk long enough without my attendance; and so think all my fellows, though they say nothing. Books in women’s hands are as much against the hair,[440] methinks, as to see men wear stomachers, or night-rails.[441]—She that has the green- sickness, and should follow her counsel, would die like an ass, and go to the worms like a salad; not I: so long as such a creature as man is made, she is a fool that knows not what he is good for. [_Exeunt_ LADIES. CAST. Though among life’s elections, that of virgin I did speak noblest of, yet it has pleas’d the king To send me a contented blessedness In that of marriage, which I ever doubted.
_Enter_ VORTIGER _and_ HORSUS _disguised_.
I see the king’s affection was a true one; It lasts and holds out long, that’s no mean virtue In a commanding man; though in great fear At first I was enforc’d to venture on it. VORT. All’s happy, clear, and safe. HOR. The rest comes gently on. VORT. Be sure you seize on her full sight at first, For fear of my discovery. HOR. Now, fortune, and I am sped. [_Seizes and blindfolds_ CASTIZA. CAST. Treason! treason! HOR. Sirrah, how stand you? prevent noise and clamour, Or death shall end thy service. VORT. A sure cunning. [_Aside._ CAST. O, rescue! rescue! HOR. Dead her voice! away, make speed! CAST. No help? no succour? HOR. Louder yet, extend Your voice to the last rack;[442] you shall have leave now, You’re far from any pity. CAST. What’s my sin? HOR. Contempt of man; and he’s a noble creature, And takes it in ill part to be despis’d. CAST. I never despis’d any. HOR. No? you hold us Unworthy to be lov’d; what call you that? CAST. I have a lord disproves you. HOR. Pish! your lord? You’re bound to love your lord, that’s[443] no thanks to you; You should love those you are not tied to love, That’s the right trial of a woman’s charity. CAST. I know not what you are, nor what my fault is: If it be life you seek, whate’er you be, Use no immodest words, and take it from me; You kill me more in talking sinfully Than acting cruelly:[444] be so far pitiful, To end me without words. HOR. Long may you live! ’Tis the wish of a good subject: ’tis not life That I thirst after; loyalty forbid I should commit such treason: you mistake me, I’ve[445] no such bloody thought; only your love Shall content me. CAST. What said you, sir? HOR. Thus plainly, To strip my words as naked as my purpose, I must and will enjoy thee. [_She faints._]—Gone already? Look to her, bear her up, she goes apace; I fear’d this still, and therefore came provided. There’s that will fetch life from a dying spark, And make it spread a furnace; she’s well straight. [_Pours drops from a vial into_ CASTIZA’s _mouth_. Pish, let her go; she stands, upon my knowledge, Or else she counterfeits; I know the virtue. CAST. Never did sorrows in afflicted woman Meet with such cruelties, such hard-hearted ways Human invention never found before: To call back life to live, is but ill taken By some departing soul[s]; then to force mine back To an eternal act of death in lust, What is it but most execrable? HOR. So, so: But this is from my business. List to me: Here you are now far from all hope of friendship, Save what you make in me; ’scape me you cannot, Send your soul that assurance; that resolv’d on, You know not who I am, nor ever shall, I need not fear you then; but give consent, Then with the faithfulness of a true friend I’ll open myself to you, fall your servant, As I do now in hope, proud of submission, And seal the deed up with eternal secrecy; Not death shall pluck’t[446] from me, much less the king’s Authority or torture. VORT. I admire him. [_Aside._ CAST. O sir! whate’er you are, I teach my knee Thus to requite you, be content to take [_Kneels._ Only my sight, as ransom for my honour, And where[447] you have but mock’d my eyes with darkness, Pluck them quite out; all outward lights of body I’ll spare most willingly, but take not from me That which must guide me to another world, And leave me dark for ever; fast without That cursed pleasure, which will make two souls Endure a famine everlastingly. HOR. This almost moves. [_Aside._ VORT. By this light he’ll be taken! [_Aside._ HOR. I’ll wrestle down all pity. [_Aside._]—What! will you consent? CAST. I’ll never be so guilty. HOR. Farewell words then! You hear no more of me; but thus I seize you. CAST. O, if a power above be reverenc’d by thee, I bind thee by that name, by manhood, nobleness, And all the charms of honour! [VORTIGER _snatches her up, and carries her off_. HOR. Ah, ha! here’s one caught For an example: never was poor lady So mock’d into false terror; with what anguish She lies with her own lord! now she could curse All into barrenness, and beguile herself by’t.[448] Conceit’s[449] a powerful thing, and is indeed Plac’d as a palate to taste grief or love, And as that relishes, so we approve; Hence comes it that our taste is so beguil’d, Changing pure blood for some that’s mix’d and soil’d. [_Exit._
## SCENE III.
_A Chamber in a Castle._[450]
_Enter_ HENGIST.
HEN. A fair and fortunate constellation reign’d When we set foot here; for from his first gift (Which to a king’s unbounded eyes seem’d nothing), The compass of a hide, I have erected A strong and spacious castle, yet contain’d myself Within my limits, without check or censure. Thither, with all th’ observance of a subject, The liveliest witness of a grateful mind, I purpose to invite him and his queen, And feast them nobly. BARBER [_speaking without_]. We will enter, sir; ’Tis a state business, of a twelve-month long, The choosing of a mayor. HEN. What noise is that? TAILOR [_without_]. Sir, we must speak with the good earl of Kent: Though we were ne’er[451] brought up to keep a door, We are as honest, sir, as some that do.
_Enter a_ GENTLEMAN.
HEN. Now, sir, what’s the occasion of their clamours? GENT. Please you, my lord, a company of townsmen Are bent, ’gainst[452] all denials and resistance, To have speech with your lordship; and that you Must end a difference, which none else can do. HEN. Why then there’s reason in their violence, Which I ne’er look’d for: first let in but one, And as we relish him, the rest come on. [_Exit_ GENTLEMAN. ’Tis no safe wisdom in a rising man To slight off such as these; nay, rather these Are the foundations of a lofty work; We cannot build without them, and stand sure. He that ascends first[453] to a mountain’s top Must begin at the foot.
_Re-enter_ GENTLEMAN.
Now, sir, who comes? GENT. They cannot yet agree, my lord, of that: They say ’tis worse now than it was before, For where the difference was but between two, Upon this coming first they’re all at odds. One says, he shall lose his place in the church by’t; Another will not do his wife that wrong; And by their good wills they would all come first. The strife continues in most heat, my lord, Between a country barber and a tailor Of the same town; and which your lordship names, ’Tis yielded by consent that he shall enter. HENG. Here’s no sweet coil![454] I’m[455] glad they are so reasonable. Call in the barber [_Exit_ GENTLEMAN]; if the tale be long, He’ll cut it short, I trust; that’s all the hope.
_Re-enter_ GENTLEMAN _with_ BARBER.
Now, sir, are you the barber? BARB. O, most barbarous! a corrector of enormities in hair, my lord; a promoter of upper lips, or what your lordship, in the neatness of your discretion, shall think fit to call me. HENG. Very good, I see you have this without book; but what’s your business? BARB. Your lordship comes to a very high point indeed: the business, sir, lies about the head. HENG. That’s work for you. BARB. No, my good lord, there is a corporation, a body, a kind of body.
HENG. The barber is out at the body; let in the tailor. [_Exit_ GENTLEMAN. This ’tis to reach beyond your own profession; When you let go your head, you lose your memory: You have no business with the body. BARB. Yes, sir, I am a barber-chirurgeon; I have had something to do with it in my time, my lord; and I was never so out of the body as I have been of late: send me good luck, I’ll marry some whore but I’ll get in again.
_Re-enter_ GENTLEMAN _with_ TAILOR.
HENG. Now, sir, a good discovery come from you! TAIL. I will rip up the linings to your lordship, And shew what stuff ’tis made of: for the body Or corporation— HENG. There the barber left indeed. TAIL. ’Tis piec’d up of two fashions. HENG. A patch’d town the whilest. TAIL. Nor can we go through stitch, my noble lord, The choler is so great in the one party: And as in linsey-woolsey wove together, One piece makes several suits, so, upright earl, Our linsey-woolsey hearts make all this coil. HENG. What’s all this now? I’m[456] ne’er the wiser yet.— Call in the rest. [_Exit_ GENTLEMAN, _and re-enter with_ GLOVER _and others_. Now, sirs,—what are you? GLOV. Sir-reverence[457] on your lordship, I am a glover. HENG. What needs that then? GLOV. Sometimes I deal in dog’s leather, sir-reverence the while. HENG. Well, to the purpose, if there be any towards.[458] GLOV. I were an ass else, saving your lordship’s presence. We have a body, but our town wants a hand, A hand of justice, a worshipful master mayor. HENG. This is well handled yet; a man may take some hold on it.—You want a mayor? GLOV. Right, but there’s two at fisty-cuffs about it; Sir, as I may say, at daggers drawing,— But that I cannot say, because they have none,— And you being earl of Kent, our town does say, Your lordship’s voice shall part and end the fray. HENG. This is strange work for me. Well, sir, what be they? GLOV. The one is a tanner. HENG. Fie, I shall be too partial, I owe too much affection to that trade To put it to my voice. What is his name? GLOV. Simon. HENG. How, Simon too? GLOV. Nay, ’tis but Simon one, sir; the very same Simon that sold your lordship a hide. HENG. What sayest thou? GLOV. That’s all his glory, sir: he got his master’s widow by it presently, a rich tanner’s wife: she has set him up; he was her fore-man a long time in her other husband’s days. HENG. Now let me perish in my first aspiring, If the pretty simplicity of his fortune Do not most highly take me: ’tis a presage, methinks, Of bright succeeding happiness to mine, When my fate’s glow-worm casts forth such a shine.— And what are those that do contend with him? TAIL. Marry, my noble lord, a fustian-weaver. HENG. How! he offer to compare with Simon? he a fit match for him! BARB. Hark, hark, my lord! here they come both in a pelting chafe from the town-house.
_Enter_ SIMON _and_ OLIVER.
SIM. How, before me? I scorn thee, Thou wattle-fac’d sing’d pig. OLIV. Pig? I defy thee; My uncle was a Jew, and scorn’d the motion.[459] SIM. I list not brook thy vaunts. Compare with me, Thou spindle of concupiscence? ’tis well known Thy first wife was a flax-wench. OLIV. But such a flax-wench Would I might never want at my need, Nor any friend of mine: my neighbours knew her. Thy wife was but a hempen halter to her. SIM. Use better words, I’ll hang thee in my year else, Let who will choose thee afterwards. GLOV. Peace, for shame; Quench your great spirit: do not you see his lordship? HENG. What, master Simonides? SIM. Simonides? what a fair name hath he made of Simon! then he’s an ass that calls me Simon again; I am quite out of love with it. HENG. Give me thy hand; I love thy fortunes, and like a man that thrives. SIM. I took a widow, my lord, to be the best piece of ground to thrive on; and by my faith, my lord, there’s a young Simonides, like a green onion, peeping up already. HENG. Thou’st a good lucky hand. SIM. I have somewhat, sir. HENG. But why to me is this election offer’d? The choosing of a mayor goes by most voices. SIM. True, sir, but most of our townsmen are so hoarse with drinking, there’s not a good voice among them all. HENG. Are you content to put it to all these then? To whom I liberally resign my interest, To prevent censures. SIM. I speak first, my lord. OLIV. Though I speak last, my lord, I am not least: if they will cast away a town-born child, they may; it is but dying some forty years before my time. HENG. I leave you to your choice a while. ALL. Your good lordship.
[_Exeunt_ HENGIST _and_ GENTLEMAN. SIM. Look you, neighbours, before you be too hasty. Let Oliver the fustian-weaver stand as fair as I do, and the devil do him good on’t. OLIV. I do, thou upstart callymoocher,[460] I do; ’tis well known to the parish I have been twice ale- conner;[461] thou mushroom, that shot’st up in a night, by lying with thy mistress! SIM. Faith, thou art such a spiny baldrib,[462] all the mistresses in the town will never get thee up. OLIV. I scorn to rise by a woman, as thou didst: my wife shall rise by me. GLOV. I pray leave your communication; we can do nothing else. OLIV. I gave that barber a fustian-suit, and twice redeemed his cittern:[463] he may remember me. SIM. I fear no false measure but in that tailor; the glover and the button-maker are both cocksure; that collier’s eye I like not; now they consult, the matter is in brewing: poor Gill, my wife, lies longing for the news; ’twill make her a glad mother. ALL [_except_ OL.]. A Simon, a Simon! SIM. Good people, I thank you all. OLIV. Wretch that I am! Tanner, thou hast curried favour. SIM. I curry! I defy thy fustian fume. OLIV. But I will prove a rebel all thy year, And raise up the seven deadly sins against thee. [_Exit._ SIM. The deadly sins will scorn to rise by thee, if they have any breeding, as commonly they are well brought up; ’tis not for every scab to be acquainted with them: but leaving the scab, to you, good neighbours, now I bend my speech. First, to say more than a man can say, I hold it not fit to be spoken; but to say what a man ought to say, there I leave you also. I must confess your loves have chosen a weak and unlearned man; that I can neither write nor read, you all can witness: yet not altogether so unlearned, but I can set my mark to a bond, if I would be so simple; an excellent token of government. Cheer you then, my hearts, you have done you know not what: there’s a full point; there you must all cough and hem. [_Here they all cough and hem._] Now touching our common adversary the fustian-weaver, who threatens he will raise the deadly sins among us, let them come; our town is big enough to hold them, we will not so much disgrace it; besides, you know a deadly sin will lie in a narrow hole: but when they think themselves safest, and the web of their iniquity best woven, with the horse strength of my justice I will break through the loom of their concupiscence, and make the weaver go seek his shuttle: here you may cough and hem again, if you’ll do me the favour. [_They cough and hem again._] Why, I thank you all, and it shall not go unrewarded. Now for the deadly sins, pride, sloth, envy, wrath; as for covetousness and gluttony, I’ll tell you more when I come out of my office; I shall have time to try what they are: I will prove them soundly; and if I find gluttony and covetousness to be directly sins, I’ll bury the one in the bottom of a chest, and the other in the end of my garden. But, sirs, for lechery, I’ll tickle that home myself, I’ll not leave a whore in the town. BARB. Some of your neighbours must seek their wives in the country then. SIM. Barber, be silent, I will cut thy comb else. To conclude, I will learn the villany of all trades; my own I know already: if there be any knavery in the baker, I will bolt it out; if in the brewer, I will taste him throughly,[464] and piss out his iniquity at his own suckhole: in a word, I will knock down all enormities like a butcher, and send the hide to my fellow-tanners. ALL. A Simonides, a true Simonides indeed!
_Re-enter_ HENGIST _with_ ROXENA.
HENG. How now? how goes your choice? TAIL. This is he, my lord. SIM. To prove I am the man, I am bold to take The upper hand of your lordship: I’ll not lose An inch of my honour. HENG. Hold, sirs: there’s some few crowns To mend your feast, because I like your choice. BARB. Joy bless you, sir! We’ll drink your health with trumpets. SIM. I with sack-buts,[465] That’s the more solemn drinking for my state; No malt this year shall fume into my pate. [_Exeunt all but_ HENGIST _and_ ROXENA.[466] HENG. Continue[s] still that favour in his love? ROX. Nay, with increase, my lord, the flame grows greater; Though he has learn’d a better art of late To set a screen before it. HENG. Speak lower. [_Retires to a seat and reads_: _exit_ ROXENA.
_Enter_ VORTIGER _and_ HORSUS.