Part 14

DUKE. You are to us a stranger, worthy lord; ’Tis strange to see you here. HIP. It is most fit, That where the sun goes, atomies[431] follow it. DUKE. Atomies neither shape nor honour bear: Be you yourself, a sunbeam to shine clear.— Is this the gentleman? stand forth and hear Your accusation. MAT. I’ll hear none; I fly high in that: rather than kites shall seize upon me, and pick out mine eyes to my face, I’ll strike my talons thorough mine own heart first, and spit my blood in theirs. I am here for shriving those two fools of their sinful pack: when those jackdaws have cawed over me, then must I cry guilty, or not guilty; the law has work enough already, and therefore I’ll put no work of mine into his hands; the hangman shall ha’t first: I did pluck those ganders, did rob them. DUKE. ’Tis well done to confess. MAT. Confess and be hanged, and then I fly high,—is’t not so? that for that; a gallows is the worst rub that a good bowler can meet with; I stumbled against such a post, else this night I had played the part of a true son in these days, undone my father-in-law; with him would I ha’ run at leap-frog, and come over his gold, though I had broke his neck for’t: but the poor salmon-trout is now in the net. HIP. And now the law must teach you to fly high. MAT. Right, my lord, and then may you fly low; no more words:—a mouse, mum, you are stopt. BEL. Be good to my poor husband, dear my lords! MAT. Ass! Why shouldst thou pray them to be good to me, When no man here is good to one another? DUKE. Did any hand work in this theft but yours? MAT. O yes, my lord, yes: the hangman has never one son at a birth, his children always come by couples: though I cannot give the old dog my father a bone to gnaw, the daughter shall be sure of a choke-pear. Yes, my lord, there was one more that fiddled my fine pedlars, and that was my wife. BEL. Alas, I? OR. O everlasting, supernatural, superlative villain! [_Aside._] DUKE, } Your wife Matheo? LOD., _&c._ } HIP. Sure it cannot be. MAT. O, sir, you love no quarters of mutton that hang up, you love none but whole mutton. She set the robbery, I performed it; she spurred me on, I galloped away. OR. My lords—— BEL. My lords—fellow, give me speech—if my poor life May ransom thine, I yield it to the law. Thou hurt’st thy soul, yet wip’st off no offence, By casting blots upon my innocence: Let not these spare me, but tell truth: no, see Who slips his neck out of the misery, Though not out of the mischief: let thy servant, That shar’d in this base act, accuse me here: Why should my husband perish, he go clear? OR. A good child, hang thine own father! [_Aside._ DUKE. Old fellow, was thy hand in too? OR. My hand was in the pie, my lord, I confess it: my mistress, I see, will bring me to the gallows, and so leave me; but I’ll not leave her so: I had rather hang in a woman’s company than in a man’s; because if we should go to hell together, I should scarce be letten in, for all the devils are afraid to have any women come amongst them; as I am true thief, she neither consented to this felony nor knew of it. DUKE. What fury prompts thee on to kill thy wife? MAT. It’s my humour, sir; ’tis a foolish bagpipe that I make myself merry with: why should I eat hemp-seed at the hangman’s thirteenpence-halfpenny ordinary, and have this whore laugh at me as I swing, as I totter? DUKE. Is she a whore? MAT. A sixpenny mutton pasty[432] for any to cut up. OR. Ah, toad, toad, toad! [_Aside._ MAT. A barber’s cittern[433] for every serving-man to play upon: that lord your son knows it. HIP. I, sir? am I her bawd then? MAT. No, sir, but she’s your whore then. OR. Yea, spider, dost catch at great flies? [_Aside._ HIP. My whore? MAT. I cannot talk, sir, and tell of your rems, and your rees, and your whirligigs and devices,—but, my lord, I found 'em like sparrows in one nest, billing together, and bulling of me: I took 'em in bed, was ready to kill him, was up to stab her—— HIP. Close thy rank jaws;—pardon me, I am vex’d,— Thou art a villain, a malicious devil! Deep as the place where thou art lost, thou liest! Since I am thus far got into this storm, I’ll through, and thou shalt see I’ll through untouch’d, When thou shalt perish in it.

_Re-enter_ INFELICE.

INF. ’Tis my cue To enter now.—Room, let my prize be play’d![434] I ha’ lurk’d in clouds, yet heard what all have said: What jury more can prove sh’as wrong’d my bed Than her own husband? she must be punished; I challenge law, my lord; letters, and gold, And jewels from my lord that woman took. HIP. Against that black-mouth’d devil, 'gainst letters and gold, And 'gainst a jealous wife, I do uphold Thus far her reputation; I could sooner Shake th’ Appenine, and crumble rocks to dust, Than, though Jove’s shower rain’d down, tempt her to lust. BEL. What shall I say? OR. [_throwing off his disguise_] Say thou art not a whore, and that’s more than fifteen women amongst five hundred dare swear without lying: this shalt thou say— no, let me say’t for thee—thy husband’s a knave, this lord’s an honest man; thou art no punk, this lady’s a right lady; Pacheco is a thief as his master is, but old Orlando is as true a man as thy father is.—I ha’ seen you fly high, sir, and I ha’ seen you fly low, sir; and to keep you from the gallows, sir, a blue coat have I worn, and a thief did I turn; mine own men are the pedlars: my twenty pound did fly high, sir, your wife’s gown did fly low, sir: whither fly you now, sir? you ha’ scaped the gallows, to the devil you fly next, sir.—Am I right, my liege? DUKE. Your father has the true physician play’d. MAT. And I am now his patient. HIP. And be so still: ’Tis a good sign when our cheeks blush at ill. CON. The linen-draper, signor Candido, He whom the city terms the patient man, Is likewise here for buying of those lawns The pedlars lost. INF. Alas, good Candido! DUKE. Fetch him [_exit Constable_]: and when these payments up are cast, Weigh out your light gold, but let’s have them last.

_Enter_ CANDIDO _with Constable, who presently goes out_.

In Bridewell, Candido? CAN. Yes, my good lord. DUKE. What make you here? CAN. My lord, what make you here? DUKE. I’m here to save right, and to drive wrong hence. CAN. And I to bear wrong here with patience. DUKE. You ha’ bought stoln goods. CAN. So they do say, my lord; Yet bought I them upon a gentleman’s word; And I imagine now, as I thought then, That there be thieves, but no thieves gentlemen. HIP. Your credit’s crack’d being here. CAN. No more than gold Being crack’d, which does his estimation hold. I was in Bedlam once, but was I mad? They made me pledge whores’ healths, but am I bad Because I’m with bad people? DUKE. Well, stand by: If you take wrong, we’ll cure the injury.

_Re-enter Constable, after him_ BOTS, _then two Beadles, one with hemp, the other with a beetle_.[435]

Stay, stay: what’s he? a prisoner? CON. Yes, my lord. HIP. He seems a soldier. BOTS. I am what I seem, sir, one of fortune’s bastards, a soldier and a gentleman, and am brought in here with master constable’s band of billmen,[436] because they face me down that I live, like those that keep bowling-alleys, by the sins of the people, in being a squire of the body.[437] HIP. O, an apple-squire.[438] BOTS. Yes, sir, that degree of scurvy squires, and that I am maintained by the best part that is commonly in a woman, by the worst players of those parts; but I am known to all this company. LOD. My lord, ’tis true, we all know him, ’tis lieutenant Bots. DUKE. Bots?—And where ha’ you served, Bots? BOTS. In most of your hottest services in the Low Countries: at the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted upon’t, but ’tis now sound; in Cleveland I missed but little having the bridge of my nose broken down with two great stones as I was scaling a fort: I ha’ been tried, sir, too, in Guelderland, and scaped hardly there from being blown up at a breach; I was fired, and lay i’ th’ surgeon’s hands for’t till the fall of the leaf following. HIP. All this may be, and yet you no soldier. BOTS. No soldier, sir? I hope these are services that your proudest commanders do venture upon, and never come off sometimes. DUKE. Well, sir, because you say you are a soldier, I’ll use you like a gentleman.—Make room there, Plant him amongst you; we shall have anon Strange hawks fly here before us: if none light On you, you shall with freedom take your flight; But if you prove a bird of baser wing, We’ll use you like such birds, here you shall sing. BOTS. I wish to be tried at no other weapon. DUKE. Why is he furnish’d with those implements? FIRST MAS. The pander is more dangerous to a state Than is the common thief; and though our laws Lie heavier on the thief, yet, that the pander May know the hangman’s ruff should fit him too, Therefore he’s set to beat hemp. DUKE. This does savour Of justice; basest slaves to basest labour. Now, pray, set open hell, and let us see The she-devils that are here. INF. Methinks this place Should make even Lais honest. FIRST MAS. Some it turns good; But as some men, whose hands are once in blood, Do in a pride spill more, so some going hence, Are, by being here, lost in more impudence. Let it not to them, when they come, appear That any one does as their judge sit here, But that as gentlemen you come to see, And then perhaps their tongues will walk more free. DUKE. Let them be marshall’d in. [_Exeunt First and Second Masters, Constable, and Beadles._ Be cover’d all, Fellows, now to make the scene more comical. CAR. Will not you be smelt out, Bots? BOTS. No; your bravest whores have the worst noses.

_Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable, then_ DOROTHEA TARGET, _brave;[439] after her two Beadles, the one with a wheel, the other with a blue gown_.[440]

LOD. Are not you a bride, forsooth? DOR. Say ye? CAR. He would know if these be not your bride-men. DOR. Vuh, yes, sir; and look ye, do you see? the bride-laces that I give at my wedding will serve to tie rosemary[441] to both your coffins when you come from hanging,—scab! OR. Fie, punk! fie, fie, fie! DOR. Out, you stale, stinking head of garlic, foh, at my heels! OR. My head’s cloven. HIP. O, let the gentlewoman alone, she’s going to shrift. AST. Nay, to do penance. CAR. Ay, ay; go, punk, go to the Cross and be whipt. DOR. Marry mew, marry muff,[442] marry hang you, goodman dog! whipt? do ye take me for a base spittle[443] whore? In troth, gentlemen, you wear the clothes of gentlemen, but you carry not the minds of gentlemen, to abuse a gentlewoman of my fashion. LOD. Fashion? pox a’ your fashions! art not a whore? DOR. Goodman slave! DUKE. O fie, abuse her not; let us two talk.— What mought[444] I call your name, pray? DOR. I’m not ashamed of my name, sir; my name is mistress Doll Target, a western gentlewoman. LOD. Her target against any pike in Milan! DUKE. Why is this wheel borne after her? FIRST MAS. She must spin. DOR. A coarse thread it shall be, as all threads are. AST. If you spin, then you’ll earn money here too? DOR. I had rather get half-a-crown abroad than ten crowns here. OR. Abroad? I think so. INF. Dost thou not weep now thou art here? DOR. Say ye? weep? yes, forsooth, as you did when you lost your maidenhead; do you not hear how I weep? [_Sings._ LOD. Farewell, Doll! DOR. Farewell, dog! [_Exit with Beadles._ DUKE. Past shame, past penitence! Why is that blue gown? FIRST MAS. Being stript out of her wanton loose attire, That garment she puts on, base to the eye, Only to clothe her in humility. DUKE. Are all the rest like this? FIRST MAS. No, my good lord; You see this drab swells with a wanton rein, The next that enters has a different strain. DUKE. Variety is good; let’s see the rest. [_Exeunt First and Second Masters and Constable._ BOTS. Your grace sees I’m sound yet, and no bullets hit me. DUKE. Come off so, and ’tis well. LOD. } Here’s the second mess. AST., _&c._ }

_Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable; then_ PENELOPE WHOREHOUND, _dressed like a citizen’s wife; after her two Beadles, one with a blue gown, another with chalk[445] and a mallet_.

PEN. I ha’ worn many a costly gown, but I was never thus guarded[446] with blue coats and beadles and constables and—— CAR. Alas, fair mistress, spoil not thus your eyes! PEN. O sweet sir, I fear the spoiling of other places about me that are dearer than my eyes! If you be gentlemen, if you be men, or ever came of a woman, pity my case! stand to me, stick to me, good sir, you are an old man! OR. Hang not on me, I prithee; old trees bear no such fruit. PEN. Will you bail me, gentlemen? LOD. Bail thee? art in for debt? PEN. No; God[447] is my judge, sir, I am in for no debts; I paid my tailor for this gown the last five shillings a-week that was behind yesterday. DUKE. What is your name, I pray? PEN. Penelope Whorehound, I come of the Whorehounds.—How does lieutenant Bots? LOD. } Aha, Bots! AST., _&c._ } BOTS. A very honest woman, as I’m a soldier,—a pox Bots ye! PEN. I was never in this pickle before; and yet, if I go amongst citizens’ wives, they jeer at me; if I go among the loose-bodied gowns,[448] they cry a pox on me, because I go civilly attired, and swear their trade was a good trade till such as I am took it out of their hands. Good lieutenant Bots, speak to these captains to bail me. FIRST MAS. Begging for bail still? you are a trim gossip. Go give her the blue gown; set her to her chare.[449] Work, huswife, for your bread; away! PEN. Out, you dog!—a pox on you all!—women are born to curse thee—but I shall live to see twenty such flat-caps[450] shaking dice for a pennyworth of pippins—out, you blue-eyed rogue! [_Exit with Beadles._ LOD. } Ha, ha, ha! AST., _&c._ } DUKE. Even now she wept and pray’d; now does she curse? FIRST MAS. Seeing me; if still sh’ad stay’d, this had been worse. HIP. Was she ever here before? FIRST MAS. Five times at least; And thus if men come to her have her eyes Wrung and wept out her bail. LOD. } Bots, you know her! AST., _&c._ } BOTS. Is there any gentleman here that knows not a whore, and is he a hair the worse for that? DUKE. Is she a city-dame, she’s so attir’d? FIRST MAS. No, my good lord, that’s only but the veil To her loose body; I have seen her here In gayer masking suits: as several sauces Give one dish several tastes, so change of habits In whores is a bewitching art; to-day She’s all in colours to besot gallants, then In modest black to catch the citizen; And this from their examination’s drawn. Now shall you see a monster both in shape And nature quite from these, that sheds no tear, Nor yet is nice, ’tis a plain ramping bear; Many such whales are cast upon this shore. DUKE, } Let’s see her. LOD., _&c._ } FIRST MAS. Then behold a swaggering whore. [_Exeunt First and Second Masters and Constable._ OR. Keep your ground, Bots. BOTS. I do but traverse to spy advantage how to arm myself.

_Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable, after them a Beadle beating a basin,[451] then_ CATHERINA BOUNTINALL _with_ MISTRESS HORSELEECH, _after them another Beadle with a blue head guarded[452] with yellow_.