Part 8

COOK. We’ll strain ourselves with ’em, say; let ’em come, Gnotho;[222] now for the honour of Epire! GNOTH. No[223] dancing with me, we have Siren here. [_A dance by the old_ WOMEN _and_ AGATHA; _they offer to take the men, all agree except_ GNOTHO, _who sits with the_ COURTEZAN.[224] COOK. Ay! so kind! then every one his wench to his several room; Gnotho,[225] we are all provided now, as you are. [_Exeunt all but_ GNOTHO, COURTEZAN, _and_ AGATHA. GNOTH. I shall have two, it seems: away! I have Siren here already. AGA. What, a mermaid?[226] [_Takes off her mask._ GNOTH. No, but a maid, horse-face: O old woman! is it you? AGA. Yes, ’tis I; all the rest have gulled themselves, and taken their own wives, and shall know that they have done more than they can well answer; but I pray you, husband, what are you doing? GNOTH. Faith, thus should I do, if thou wert dead, old Ag; and thou hast not long to live, I’m sure: we have Siren here. AGA. Art thou so shameless, whilst I am living, to keep one under my nose? GNOTH. No, Ag, I do prize her far above thy nose; if thou wouldst lay me both thine eyes in my hand to boot, I’ll not leave her: art not ashamed to be seen in a tavern, and hast scarce a fortnight to live? O old woman, what art thou? must thou find no time to think of thy end? AGA. O unkind villain! GNOTH. And then, sweetheart, thou shalt have two new gowns; and the best of this old[227] woman’s shall make thee raiments for the working days. AGA. O rascal! dost thou quarter my clothes already too? GNOTH. Her ruffs will serve thee for nothing but to wash dishes; for thou shalt have thine[228] of the new fashion. AGA. Impudent villain! shameless harlot! GNOTH. You may hear, she never wore any but rails all her lifetime. AGA. Let me come, I’ll tear the strumpet from him. GNOTH. Darest thou call my wife strumpet, thou preterpluperfect tense of a woman! I’ll make thee do penance in the sheet thou shalt be buried in; abuse my choice, my two to one! AGA. No, unkind villain! I’ll deceive thee yet; I have a reprieve for five years of life; I am with child. COURT. Cud so, Gnotho,[229] I’ll not tarry so long; five years! I may bury two husbands by that time. GNOTH. Alas! give the poor woman leave to talk: she with child! ay, with a puppy: as long as I have thee by me, she shall not be with child, I warrant thee. AGA. The law, and thou, and all, shall find I am with child. GNOTH. I’ll take my corporal oath I begat it not, and then thou diest for adultery. AGA. No matter, that will ask some time in the proof. GNOTH. O, you’d be stoned to death, would you? all old women would die a’ that fashion with all their hearts; but the law shall overthrow you the tother way, first. COURT. Indeed, if it be so, I will not linger so long, Gnotho.[230] GNOTH. Away, away! some botcher has got it; ’tis but a cushion, I warrant thee: the old woman is _loath to depart_[231]; she never sung other tune in her life. COURT. We will not have our noses bored with a cushion, if it be so. GNOTH. Go, go thy ways, thou old almanac at the twenty- eighth day of December, e’en almost out of date! Down on thy knees, and make thee ready; sell some of thy clothes to buy thee a death’s head, and put upon thy middle finger: your least-considering bawd does[232] so much; be not thou worse, though thou art an old woman, as she is: I am cloyed with old stock-fish; here’s a young perch is sweeter meat by half: prithee, die before thy day, if thou canst, that thou mayst not be counted a witch. AGA. No, thou art a witch, and I’ll prove it: I said I was with child, thou knewest no other but by sorcery: thou saidst it was a cushion, and so it is; thou art a witch for’t, I’ll be sworn to’t. GNOTH. Ha, ha, ha! I told thee ’twas a cushion. Go, get thy sheet ready; we’ll see thee buried as we go to church to be married. [_Exeunt_ GNOTHO _and_ COURTEZAN. AGA. Nay, I’ll follow thee, and shew myself a wife. I’ll plague thee as long as I live with thee; and I’ll bury some money before I die,[233] that my ghost may haunt thee afterward. [_Exit._

## SCENE II.

_The Country. A Forest._

_Enter_ CLEANTHES.

CLEAN. What’s that? O, nothing but the whispering wind Breathes through yon churlish hawthorn, that grew rude, As if it chid the gentle breath that kiss’d it. I cannot be too circumspect, too careful; For in these woods lies hid all my life’s treasure, Which is too much [n]ever to fear to lose, Though[234] it be never lost: and if our watchfulness Ought to be wise and serious ’gainst[235] a thief That comes to steal our goods, things all without us, That prove[236] vexation often more than comfort; How mighty ought our providence to be, To prevent those, if any such there were, That come to rob our bosom of our joys, That only make[237] poor man delight to live! Pshaw! I’m too fearful—fie, fie! who can hurt me? But ’tis a general cowardice, that shakes The nerves of confidence: he that hides treasure, Imagines every one thinks of that place, When ’tis a thing least minded; nay, let him change The place continually; where’er it keeps, There will the fear keep still: yonder’s the store-house Of all my comfort now—and see! it sends forth

_Enter_ HIPPOLITA _from the Wood._

A dear one to me:—Precious chief of women, How does the good old soul? has he fed well? HIP. Beshrew me, sir, he made the heartiest meal to- day— Much good may’t do his health. CLEAN. A blessing on thee, Both for thy news and wish! HIP. His stomach, sir, Is better’d wondrously since his concealment. CLEAN. Heaven has a blessed work in’t. Come, we’re safe here; I prithee, call him forth; the air’s much wholesomer. HIP. Father!

_Enter_ LEONIDES.

LEON. How[238] sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman! It is so seldom heard, that, when it speaks, It ravishes all senses. Lists of honour! I’ve a joy weeps to see you, ’tis so full, So fairly fruitful. CLEAN. I hope to see you often and return Loaden with blessings, still to pour on some; I find ’em all in my contented peace, And lose not one in thousands; they’re disperst So gloriously, I know not which are brightest. I find ’em, as angels are found, by legions: First, in the love and honesty of a wife, Which is the chiefest[239] of all temporal blessings; Next, in yourself, which is the hope and joy Of all my actions, my affairs, my wishes; And lastly, which crowns all, I find my soul Crown’d with the peace of ’em, th’ eternal riches, Man’s only portion for his heavenly marriage! LEON. Rise; thou art all obedience, love, and goodness. I dare say that which thousand fathers cannot, And that’s my precious comfort; never son Was in the way more of celestial rising: Thou art so made of such ascending virtue, That all the powers of hell can’t[240] sink thee. [_A horn sounded within._ CLEAN. Ha! LEON. What was’t disturb’d my joy? CLEAN. Did you not hear, As afar off? LEON. What, my excellent comfort?[241] CLEAN. Nor you? HIP. I heard a —— [_A horn._ CLEAN. Hark, again! LEON. Bless my joy, What ails it on a sudden? CLEAN. Now? since lately? LEON. ’Tis nothing but a symptom of thy care, man. CLEAN. Alas, you do not hear well! LEON. What was’t, daughter? HIP. I heard a sound twice. [_A horn._ CLEAN. Hark! louder and nearer: In, for the precious good of virtue, quick, sir! Louder and nearer yet! at hand, at hand! [_Exit_ LEONIDES. A hunting here! ’tis strange: I never knew Game follow’d in these woods before.

_Enter_ EVANDER, SIMONIDES, COURTIERS, _and_ CRATILUS.

HIP. Now let ’em come, and spare not. CLEAN. Ha! ’tis—is’t not the duke?—look sparingly. HIP. ’Tis he; but what of that? alas, take heed, sir; Your care will overthrow us. CLEAN. Come, it shall not: Let’s set a pleasant face upon our fears, Though our hearts shake with horror.—Ha, ha, ha! EVAN. Hark! CLEAN. Prithee, proceed; I’m taken with these light things infinitely, Since the old man’s decease; ha!—so they parted? ha, ha, ha! EVAN. Why, how should I believe this? look, he’s merry, As if he had no such charge: one with that care Could never be so; still he holds his temper, And ’tis the same still (with no difference) He brought his father’s corpse to the grave with; He laugh’d thus then, you know. FIRST COURT. Ay, he may laugh, my lord, That shews but how he glories in his cunning; And [is], perhaps, done more to advance his wit, That only he has over-reach’d the law,[242] Than to express affection to his father. SIM. He tells you right, my lord; his own cousin- german Reveal’d it first to me; a free-tongued woman, And very excellent at telling secrets. EVAN. If a contempt can be so neatly carried, It gives me cause of wonder. SIM. Troth, my lord, ’Twill prove a delicate cozening, I believe: I’d have no scrivener offer to come near it. EVAN. Cleanthes. CLEAN. My lov’d lord. EVAN. Not mov’d a whit, Constant to lightness[243] still! ’Tis strange to meet you Upon a ground so unfrequented, sir: This does not fit your passion; you’re for mirth, Or I mistake you much. CLEAN. But finding it Grow to a noted imperfection in me, For any thing too much is vicious, I come to these disconsolate walks, of purpose, Only to dull and take away the edge on’t. I ever had a greater zeal to sadness, A natural propension,[244] I confess, my lord, Before that cheerful accident fell out— If I may call a father’s funeral cheerful, Without wrong done to duty or my love. EVAN. It seems, then, you take pleasure i’these walks, sir. CLEAN. Contemplative content I do, my lord: They bring into my mind oft meditations So sweetly precious, that, in the parting, I find a shower of grace upon my cheeks, They take their leave so feelingly. EVAN. So, sir! CLEAN. Which is a kind of grave delight, my lord. EVAN. And I’ve small cause, Cleanthes, to[245] afford you The least delight that has a name. CLEAN. My lord! SIM. Now it begins to fadge. FIRST COURT. Peace! thou art so greedy, Sim. EVAN. In your excess of joy you have express’d Your rancour and contempt against my law: Your smiles deserve [a] fining; you’ve profess’d Derision openly, e’en to my face, Which might be death, a little more incensed. You do not come for any freedom here, But for a project of your own:— But all that’s known to be contentful to thee, Shall in the use prove deadly. Your life’s mine, If ever thy presumption do but lead thee Into these walks again,—ay, or that woman; I’ll have ’em watch’ a’ purpose.

[CLEANTHES _retires from the wood, followed by_ HIPPOLITA.

FIRST COURT. Now, now, his colour ebbs and flows. SIM. Mark her’s too. HIP. O, who shall bring food to the poor old man, now! Speak somewhat, good sir, or we’re lost for ever. CLEAN. O, you did wondrous ill to call me again! There are not words to help us; if I entreat, ’Tis found; that will betray us worse than silence: Prithee, let heaven alone, and let’s say nothing. FIRST COURT. You’ve struck ’em dumb, my lord. SIM. Look how guilt looks! I would not have that fear upon my flesh, To save ten fathers. CLEAN. He is safe still, is he not? HIP. O, you do ill to doubt it. CLEAN. Thou art all goodness. SIM. Now does your grace believe? EVAN. ’Tis too apparent. Search, make a speedy search; for the imposture Cannot be far off, by the fear it sends. CLEAN. Ha! SIM. Has[246] the lapwing’s cunning, I’m afraid, my lord, That cries most[247] when she’s farthest from the nest. CLEAN. O, we’re betray’d! HIP. Betray’d, sir! SIM. See, my lord, It comes out more and more still. [SIMONIDES _and_ COURTIERS _enter the wood_. CLEAN. Bloody thief! Come from that place; ’tis sacred, homicide! ’Tis not for thy adulterate hands to touch it. HIP. O miserable virtue, what distress Art thou in at this minute! CLEAN. Help me, thunder, For my power’s lost! angels, shoot plagues, and help me! Why are these men in health, and I so heart-sick? Or why should nature have that power in me To levy up a thousand bleeding sorrows, And not one comfort? only make[248] me lie Like the poor mockery of an earthquake here, Panting with horror, And have not so much force in all my vengeance, To shake a villain off me.[249]

_Re-enter_ SIMONIDES _and_ COURTIERS _with_ LEONIDES.

HIP. Use him gently, And heaven will love you for’t. CLEAN. Father! O father! now I see thee full In thy affliction[250]; thou’rt a man of sorrow, But reverently becom’st it, that’s my comfort: Extremity was never better grac’d Than with that look of thine; O, let me look still, For I shall lose it! all my joy and strength [_Kneels._ Is e’en eclips’d together. I transgress’d Your law, my lord, let me receive the sting on’t; Be once just, sir, and let the offender die: He’s innocent in all, and I am guilty. LEON. Your grace knows, when affection only speaks, Truth is not always there; his love would draw An undeserved misery on his youth, And wrong a peace resolv’d, on both parts sinful. ’Tis I am guilty of my own concealment, And, like a worldly coward, injur’d heaven With fear to go to’t:—now I see my fault, I am prepar’d with joy to suffer for’t. EVAN. Go, give him quick despatch, let him see death: And your presumption, sir, shall come to judgment. [_Exeunt_ EVANDER, COURTIERS, SIMONIDES; _and_ CRATILUS _with_ LEONIDES. HIP. He’s going! O, he’s gone, sir! CLEAN. Let me rise. HIP. Why do you not then, and follow? CLEAN. I strive for’t: Is there no hand of pity that will ease me, And take this villain from my heart awhile? [_Rises._ HIP. Alas! he’s gone. CLEAN. A worse supplies his place then, A weight more ponderous; I cannot follow. HIP. O misery of affliction! CLEAN. They will stay Till I can come; they must be so good ever, Though they be ne’er so cruel: My last leave must be taken, think a’ that, And his[251] last blessing given; I will not lose That for a thousand comforts.[252] HIP. That hope’s wretched. CLEAN. The unutterable stings of fortune! All griefs are to be borne save this alone; This, like a headlong torrent, overturns The frame of nature: For he that gives us life first, as a father, Locks all his natural sufferings in our blood; The sorrows that he feels are our heart’s too,[253] They are incorporate to us. HIP. Noble sir! CLEAN. Let me behold thee[254] well. HIP. Sir! CLEAN. Thou shouldst be good, Or thou’rt a dangerous substance to be lodg’d So near the heart of man. HIP. What means this, dear sir? CLEAN. To thy trust only was this blessed secret Kindly committed; ’tis destroy’d, thou seest; What follows to be thought on’t? HIP. Miserable! Why, here’s th’ unhappiness of woman still, That, having forfeited in old times her[255] trust, Now makes their faiths suspected that are just. CLEAN. What shall I say to all my sorrows then, That look for satisfaction?

_Enter_ EUGENIA.

EUG. Ha, ha, ha! cousin. CLEAN. How ill dost thou become this time! EUG. Ha, ha, ha! Why, that’s but your opinion; a young wench Becomes the time at all times. Now, coz, we’re even: and[256] you be remember’d, You left a _strumpet_ and a _whore_ at home with me, And such fine field-bed words, which could not cost you Less than a father. CLEAN. Is it come that way? EUG. Had you an uncle, He should go the same way too. CLEAN. O eternity! What monster is this fiend in labour with? EUG. An ass-colt with two heads, that’s she and you: I will not lose so glorious a revenge, Not to be understood in’t; I betray[’d] him; And now we’re even, you’d best keep you so. CLEAN. Is there not poison yet enough to kill me? HIP. O sir, forgive me! it was I betray’d him. CLEAN. How! HIP. I. CLEAN. The fellow of my heart! ’twill speed me, then. HIP. Her tears that never wept, and mine own pity E’en cozen’d me together, and stole from me This secret, which fierce death should not have purchas’d. CLEAN. Nay, then we’re at an end; all we are false ones, And ought to suffer. I was false to wisdom, In trusting woman; thou wert false to faith, In uttering of the secret; and thou false To goodness, in deceiving such a pity: We are all tainted some way, but thou worst, And for thy infectious spots ought[st] to die first. [_Offers to kill_ EUGENIA. EUG. Pray turn your weapon, sir, upon your mistress; I come not so ill friended.—Rescue, servants!

_Re-enter_ SIMONIDES _and_ COURTIERS.

CLEAN. Are you so whorishly provided? SIM. Yes, sir, She has more weapons at command than one. EUG. Put forward, man; thou art most sure to have me. SIM. I shall be surer, if I keep behind, though. EUG. Now, servants, shew your loves. SIM. I’ll shew my love, too, afar off. EUG. I love to be so courted; woo me there. SIM. I love to keep good weapons, though ne’er fought [with]. I’m sharper set within than I am without. HIP. O gentlemen! Cleanthes! EUG. Fight! upon him! CLEAN.[257] Thy thirst of blood proclaims thee now a strumpet. EUG. ’Tis dainty, next to procreation fitting; I’d either be destroying men or getting.

_Enter_ GUARD.

FIRST OFFICER. Forbear, on your allegiance, gentlemen! He’s the duke’s prisoner, and we seize upon him To answer this contempt against the law. CLEAN. I obey fate in all things. HIP. Happy rescue! SIM. I would you’d seized upon him a minute sooner; ’t had saved me a cut finger: I wonder how I came by’t, for I never put my hand forth, I’m sure; I think my own sword did cut it, if truth were known; may be the wire in the handle: I have lived these five and twenty years, and never knew what colour my blood was before. I never durst eat oysters, nor cut peck-loaves. EUG. You have shewn your spirits, gentlemen; but you Have cut your finger. SIM. Ay, the wedding-finger too, a pox on’t! COURT. You’ll prove a bawdy bachelor, Sim, to have a cut upon your finger before you are married. SIM. I’ll never draw sword again, to have such a jest put upon me. [_Exeunt._

## ACT V. SCENE I.

_A Court of Justice._

_Enter_ SIMONIDES _and_ COURTIERS, _sword and mace carried before them_.

SIM. Be ready with your prisoner; we’ll sit instantly, And rise before eleven,[258] or when we please; Shall we not, fellow[259]-judges? FIRST COURT. ’Tis committed All to our power, censure, and pleasure, now; The duke hath made us chief lords of this sessions, And we may speak by fits, or sleep by turns. SIM. Leave that to us; but, whatsoe’er we do, The prisoner shall be sure to be condemn’d; Sleeping or waking, we are resolv’d on that, Before we sit[260] upon him? SECOND COURT. Make you question If not?—Cleanthes! and an[261] enemy! Nay, a concealer of his father too! A vild[262] example in these days of youth. SIM. If they were given to follow such examples; But sure I think they are not: howsoever, ’Twas wickedly attempted; that’s my judgment, And it shall pass whilst I am in power to sit. Never by prince were such young judges made; But now the cause requires it: if you mark it, He must make young or none; for all the old ones, Their fathers,[263] he hath sent a fishing—and My father’s one, I humbly thank his highness.

_Enter_ EUGENIA.

FIRST COURT. Widow![264] EUG. You almost hit my name no[w], gentlemen; You come so wondrous near it, I admire you For your judgment. SIM. My wife that must be! She. EUG. My husband goes upon his last hour now. FIRST COURT. On his last legs, I am sure. SIM.[265] September the seventeenth— I will not bate an hour on’t, and to-morrow His latest hour’s expir’d. SECOND COURT. Bring him to judgment; The jury’s panell’d, and the verdict given Ere[266] he appears; we have ta’en course for that. SIM. And officers to attach the gray young man, The youth of fourscore. Be of comfort, lady; You[267] shall no longer bosom January; For that I will take order, and provide For you a lusty April. EUG. The month that ought, indeed, To go before May. FIRST COURT. Do as we have said, Take a strong guard, and bring him into court. Lady Eugenia, see this charge perform’d, That, having his life forfeited by the law, He may relieve his soul. EUG. Willingly. From shaven chins never came better justice Than these ne’er touch’d by razor.[268] [_Exit._ SIM. What you do, Do suddenly, we charge you, for we purpose To make but a short sessions:—a new business!

_Enter_ HIPPOLITA.

FIRST COURT. The fair Hippolita! now what’s your suit? HIP. Alas! I know not how to style you yet; To call you judges doth not suit your years, Nor heads and beards shew more antiquity;[269]— Yet sway yourselves with equity and truth, And I’ll proclaim you reverend, and repeat Once in my lifetime I have seen grave heads Plac’d upon young men’s shoulders. SECOND COURT. Hark! she flouts us, And thinks to make us monstrous. HIP. Prove not so; For yet, methinks, you bear the shapes of men, (Though nothing more than merely beauty serves[270] To make you appear angels); but if [you] crimson Your name and power with blood and cruelty, Suppress fair virtue, and enlarge bold[271] vice, Both against heaven and nature, draw your sword, Make either will or humour turn the soul[272] Of your created greatness, and in that Oppose all goodness, I must tell you there You’re more than monstrous; in the very act You change yourselves[273] to devils. FIRST COURT. She’s a witch; Hark! she begins to conjure. SIM. Time, you see, Is short, much business now on foot:—shall I Give her her answer? SECOND COURT. None upon the bench More learnedly can do it. SIM. He, he, hem! then list: I wonder at thine impudence, young huswife, That thou dar’st plead for such a base offender. Conceal a father past his time to die! What son and heir would have done this but he? FIRST COURT. I vow, not I. HIP. Because ye are parricides; And how can comfort be deriv’d from such That pity not their fathers? SECOND COURT. You are fresh and fair; practise young women’s ends; When husbands are distress’d, provide them friends. SIM. I’ll set him forward for thee without fee:[274] Some wives would pay for such a courtesy. HIP. Times of amazement! what duty, goodness dwell[275]—— I sought for charity, but knock at hell. [_Exit._

_Re-enter_ EUGENIA, _and_ GUARD _with_ LYSANDER.