Part 4

GEO. See, gentlemen, what you lack?[120] a fine holland, a fine cambric: see what you buy. FIRST P. Holland for shirts, cambric for bands; what is’t you lack? FUS. ’Sfoot, I lack 'em all; nay, more, I lack money to buy 'em. Let me see, let me look again: mass, this is the shop. [_Aside._]—What, coz, sweet coz! how dost, i’faith, since last night after candle-light? we had good sport, i’faith, had we not? and when shall’s laugh again? VIO. When you will, cousin. FUS. Spoke like a kind Lacedemonian! I see yonder’s thy husband. VIO. Ay, there’s the sweet youth, God bless him! FUS. And how is’t, cousin? and how, how is’t, thou squall?[121] VIO. Well, cousin: how fare you? FUS. How fare I? troth, for sixpence a-meal, wench, as well as heart can wish, with calves’ chaldrons[122] and chitterlings; besides, I have a punk after supper, as good as a roasted apple. CAN. Are you my wife’s cousin? FUS. I am, sir: what hast thou to do with that? CAN. O, nothing, but you’re welcome. FUS. The devil’s dung in thy teeth! I’ll be welcome whether thou wilt or no, I.—What ring’s this, coz? very pretty and fantastical, i’faith; let’s see it. VIO. Pooh! nay, you wrench my finger. FUS. I ha’ sworn I’ll ha’t, and I hope you will not let my oaths be cracked in the ring,[123] will you? [_Seizes the ring._]—I hope, sir, you are not malicholly[124] at this, for all your great looks: are you angry? CAN. Angry? not I, sir: nay, if she can part So easily with her ring, ’tis with my heart. GEO. Suffer this, sir, and suffer all: a whoreson gull to—— CAN. Peace, George: when she has reap’d what I have sown, She’ll say one grain tastes better of her own Than whole sheaves gather’d from another’s land: Wit’s never good till bought at a dear hand. GEO. But in the mean time she makes an ass of somebody. SEC. P. See, see, see, sir, as you turn your back they do nothing but kiss. CAN. No matter, let 'em: when I touch her lip I shall not feel his kisses,[125] no, nor miss Any of her lip: no harm in kissing is. Look to your business, pray, make up your wares. FUS. Troth, coz, and well remembered; I would thou wouldst give me five yards of lawn, to make my punk some falling-bands[126] a’ the fashion; three falling one upon another, for that’s the new edition now: she’s out of linen horribly too; troth, sha’s never a good smock to her back neither, but one that has a great many patches in’t, and that I’m fain to wear myself for want of shift too: prithee, put me into wholesome napery,[127] and bestow some clean commodities upon us. VIO. Reach me those cambrics and the lawns hither. CAN. What to do, wife? To lavish out my goods upon a fool? FUS. Fool? ’Snails, eat the fool, or I’ll so batter your crown that it shall scarce go for five shillings. SEC. P. Do you hear, sir? you’re best be quiet, and say a fool tells you so. FUS. Nails, I think so, for thou tellest me. CAN. Are you angry, sir, because I nam’d the fool? Trust me, you are not wise, in mine own house And to my face to play the antic thus: If you’ll needs play the madman, choose a stage Of lesser compass, where few eyes may note Your action’s error; but if still you miss, As here you do, for one clap, ten will hiss. FUS. Zounds, cousin, he talks to me as if I were a scurvy tragedian! SEC. P. Sirrah George, I ha’ thought upon a device, how to break his pate, beat him soundly, and ship him away. GEO. Do’t. SEC. P. I’ll go in, pass thorough the house, give some of our fellow-prentices the watch-word when they shall enter; then come and fetch my master in by a wile, and place one in the hall to hold him in conference whilst we cudgel the gull out of his coxcomb. GEO. Do’t; away, do’t. [_Exit Second Prentice._ VIO. Must I call twice for these cambrics and lawns? CAN. Nay, see, you anger her; George, prithee, despatch. FIRST P. Two of the choicest pieces are in the warehouse, sir. CAN. Go fetch them presently. FUS. Ay, do; make haste, sirrah. [_Exit First Prentice._ CAN. Why were you such a stranger all this while, Being my wife’s cousin? FUS. Stranger? no, sir, I’m a natural Milaner born. CAN. I perceive still it is your natural guise To mistake me: but you’re welcome, sir; I much Wish your acquaintance. FUS. My acquaintance? I scorn that, i’faith. I hope my acquaintance goes in chains of gold three and fifty times double:—you know who I mean, coz; the posts of his gate are a-painting too.[128]

_Re-enter Second Prentice._

SEC. P. Signor Pandulfo the merchant desires conference with you. CAN. Signor Pandulfo? I’ll be with him straight. Attend your mistress and the gentleman. [_Exit._ VIO. When do you shew those pieces? FUS. Ay, when do you shew those pieces?

PRENTICES [_within_].[129] Presently, sir, presently; we are but charging them. FUS. Come, sirrah, you flat-cap,[130] where be these whites?

_Re-enter First Prentice, with pieces._ GEO. Flat-cap? hark in your ear, sir; you’re a flat fool, an ass, a gull, and I’ll thrum you:—do you see this cambric, sir? FUS. ’Sfoot, coz, a good jest; did you hear him? he told me in my ear I was _a flat fool, an ass, a gull, and I’ll thrum you:—do you see this cambric, sir?_ VIO. What, not my men, I hope? FUS. No, not your men, but one of your men, i’faith. FIRST P. I pray, sir, come hither: what say you to this? here’s[131] an excellent good one. FUS. Ay, marry, this likes[132] me well; cut me off some half-score yards. SEC. P. Let your whores cut; you’re an impudent coxcomb; you get none, and yet I’ll thrum you:—a very good cambric, sir. FUS. Again, again, as God judge me! ’sfoot, coz, they stand thrumming here with me all day, and yet I get nothing. FIRST P. A word, I pray, sir; you must not be angry; prentices have hot bloods, young fellows—what say you to this piece? look you, ’tis so delicate, so soft, so even, so fine a thread, that a lady may wear it. FUS. ’Sfoot, I think so; if a knight marry my punk, a lady shall wear it: cut me off twenty yards; thou’rt an honest lad. FIRST P. Not without money, gull, and I’ll thrum you too.

PRENTICES [_within_]. Gull, we’ll thrum you! FUS. O lord, sister, did you not hear something cry thrum? zounds, your men here make a plain ass of me. VIO. What, to my face so impudent? GEO. Ay, in a cause so honest; we’ll not suffer Our master’s goods to vanish moneyless. VIO. You will not suffer them! SEC. P. No; and you may blush, In going about to vex so mild a breast As is our master’s. VIO. Take away those pieces, Cousin, I give them freely. FUS. Mass, and I’ll take 'em as freely. GEO., FIRST AND SEC. P., AND OTHER PRENTICES RUSHING IN. We’ll make you lay 'em down again more freely. [_They all attack_ FUSTIGO _with their clubs_. VIO. Help, help! my brother will be murdered.

_Re-enter_ CANDIDO.

CAN. How now, what coil is here? forbear, I say! [_Exeunt all the Prentices except the First and Second._

GEO. He calls us flat-caps, and abuses us. CAN. Why, sirs, do such examples flow from me? VIO. They’re of your keeping sir.—Alas, poor brother! FUS. I’faith, they ha’ peppered me, sister; look, dost not spin? call you these prentices? I’ll ne’er play at cards more when clubs is trump: I have a goodly coxcomb, sister, have I not? CAN. Sister, and brother? brother to my wife? FUS. If you have any skill in heraldry, you may soon know that; break but her pate, and you shall see her blood and mine is all one. CAN. A surgeon! run, a surgeon! [_Exit First Prentice._]—Why then wore you That forged name of cousin? FUS. Because it’s a common thing to call coz[133] and ningle[134] now-a-days all the world over. CAN. Cousin! A name of much deceit, folly, and sin; For under that common, abused word, Many an honest-temper’d citizen Is made a monster, and his wife train’d out To foul adulterous action, full of fraud: I may well call that word a city’s bawd. FUS. Troth, brother, my sister would needs ha’ me take upon me to gull your patience a little; but it has made double gules[135] on my coxcomb. VIO. What, playing the woman? blabbing now, you fool? CAN. O, my wife did but exercise a jest Upon your wit. FUS. ’Sfoot, my wit bleeds for’t, methinks. CAN. Then let this warning more of sense afford; The name of cousin is a bloody word. FUS. I’ll ne’er call coz again whilst I live, to have such a coil about it: this should be a coronation-day, for my head runs claret lustily. [_Exit._ CAN. Go, wish[136] the surgeon to have great respect— [_Exit Second Prentice._

_Enter an Officer._

How now, my friend? what, do they sit to-day? OFF. Yes, sir; they expect you at the senate-house. CAN. I thank your pains; I’ll not be last man there.— [_Exit Officer._

My gown, George; go, my gown. [_Exit_ GEORGE.]—A happy land, Where grave men meet each cause to understand; Whose consciences are not cut out in bribes To gull the poor man’s right; but in even scales Peize[137] rich and poor, without corruption’s veils.—

_Re-enter_ GEORGE.

Come, where’s the gown? GEO. I cannot find the key, sir. CAN. Request it of your mistress. VIO. Come not to me for any key; I’ll not be troubled to deliver it. CAN. Good wife, kind wife, it is a needful trouble; But for my gown. VIO. Moths swallow down your gown! You set my teeth on[138] edge with talking on’t. CAN. Nay, prithee, sweet,—I cannot meet without it; I should have a great fine set on my head. VIO. Set on your coxcomb; tush, fine me no fines! CAN. Believe me, sweet, none greets the senate-house Without his robe of reverence,—that’s his gown. VIO. Well, then, you’re like to cross that custom once; You get nor key nor gown; and so depart.— This trick will vex him sure, and fret his heart. [_Aside, and exit._ CAN. Stay, let me see, I must have some device,— My cloak’s too short; fie, fie, no cloak will do’t; It must be something fashion’d like a gown, With my arms out.—O, George, come hither, George; I prithee, lend me thine advice. GEO. Troth, sir, Were’t any but you, they would break open chest. CAN. O no! break open chest? that’s a thief’s office; Therein you counsel me against my blood; 'Twould shew impatience that: any meek means I would be glad to embrace. Mass, I have got it: Go, step up, fetch me down one of the carpets,[139] The saddest-colour’d carpet, honest George; Cut thou a hole i’ th’ middle for my neck, Two for mine arms. Nay, prithee, look not strange. GEO. I hope you do not think, sir, as you mean. CAN. Prithee, about it quickly, the hour chides me: Warily, George, softly; take heed of eyes. [_Exit_ GEORGE. Out of two evils he’s accounted wise That can pick out the least: the fine impos’d For an ungowned senator is about Forty cruzadoes,[140] the carpet not 'bove four. Thus have I chosen the lesser evil yet, Preserv’d my patience, foil’d her desperate wit.

_Re-enter_ GEORGE _with carpet_.

GEO. Here, sir, here’s the carpet. CAN. O, well done, George! we’ll cut it just i’ th’ midst. [_They cut the carpet._

’Tis very well; I thank thee: help it on. GEO. It must come over your head, sir, like a wench’s petticoat. [_Helping to put it on._

CAN. Thou’rt in the right, good George; it must indeed. Fetch me a nightcap, for I’ll gird it close, As if my health were queasy; 'twill shew well For a rude, careless nightgown; will’t not, think’st? GEO. Indifferent well, sir, for a nightgown, being girt and plaited. CAN. Ay, and a nightcap on my head. GEO. That’s true, sir; I’ll run and fetch one, and a staff. [_Exit._ CAN. For thus they cannot choose but conster[141] it: One that is out of health takes no delight, Wears his apparel without appetite, And puts on heedless raiment without form.—

_Re-enter_ GEORGE _with nightcap and staff_.

So, so, [_puts on the nightcap_] kind George; be secret now; and, prithee, Do not laugh at me till I’m out of sight. GEO. I laugh? not I, sir. CAN. Now to the senate-house. Methinks I’d rather wear, without a frown, A patient carpet than an angry gown. [_Exit._ GEO. Now looks my master just like one of our carpet knights,[142] only he’s somewhat the honester of the two.

_Re-enter_ VIOLA.

VIO. What, is your master gone? GEO. Yes, forsooth, his back is but new turned. VIO. And in his cloak? did he not vex and swear? GEO. [_aside_] No; but he’ll make you swear anon.—No, indeed, he went away like a lamb. VIO. Key, sink to hell! still patient, patient still? I am with child[143] to vex him. Prithee, George, If e’er thou look’st for favour at my hands, Uphold one jest for me. GEO. Against my master? VIO. ’Tis a mere jest, in faith: say, wilt thou do’t? GEO. Well, what is’t? VIO. Here, take this key; thou know’st where all things lie; Put on thy master’s best apparel, gown, Chain, cap, ruff, every thing; be like himself; And, 'gainst his coming home, walk in the shop; Feign the same carriage and his patient look: 'Twill breed but a jest, thou know’st: speak, wilt thou? GEO. 'Twill wrong my master’s patience. VIO. Prithee, George—— GEO. Well, if you’ll save me harmless, and put me under covert barn,[144] I am content to please you, provided it may breed no wrong against him. VIO. No wrong at all: here, take the key, be gone. If any vex him, this; if not this, none. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_An outer Apartment in_ BELLAFRONT’S _House_.

_Enter_ MISTRESS FINGERLOCK _and_ ROGER.

MIS. F. O Roger, Roger, where’s your mistress, where’s your mistress? there’s the finest, neatest gentleman at my house, but newly come over: O where is she, where is she, where is she? ROG. My mistress is abroad, but not amongst 'em: my mistress is not the whore now that you take her for. MIS. F. How? is she not a whore? do you go about to take away her good name, Roger? you are a fine pander indeed! ROG. I tell you, madonna Fingerlock, I am not sad for nothing; I ha’ not eaten one good meal this three and thirty days: I had wont to get sixteen pence by fetching a pottle of hippocras;[145] but now those days are past: we had as good doings, madonna Fingerlock, she within doors, and I without, as any poor young couple in Milan. MIS. F. God’s my life, and is she changed now? ROG. I ha’ lost by her squeamishness more than would have builded twelve bawdy-houses. MIS. F. And had she no time to turn honest but now? what a vile woman is this! twenty pound a-night, I’ll be sworn, Roger, in good gold and no silver: why, here was a time! if she should ha’ picked out a time, it could not be better: gold enough stirring; choice of men, choice of hair, choice of beards, choice of legs, and choice of every, every, every thing: it cannot sink into my head that she should be such an ass; Roger, I never believe it.

ROG. Here she comes now.

_Enter_ BELLAFRONT. MIS. F. O sweet madonna, on with your loose gown,[146] your felt,[147] and your feather! there’s the sweetest, properest,[148] gallantest gentleman at my house; he smells all of musk and ambergrise, his pocket full of crowns, flame-coloured doublet, red satin hose,[149] carnation silk stockings, and a leg and a body,—O! BEL. Hence thou, our sex’s monster, poisonous bawd, Lust’s factor and damnation’s orator, Gossip of hell! Were all the harlots’ sins, Which the whole world contains, number’d together, Thine far exceeds them all: of all the creatures That ever were created, thou art basest. What serpent would beguile thee of thy office? It is detestable; for thou livest Upon the dregs of harlots, guard’st the door Whilst couples go to dancing. O coarse devil! Thou art the bastard’s curse, thou brand’st his birth; The lecher’s French disease, for thou dry-suck’st him; The harlot’s poison, and thine own confusion. MIS. F. Marry come up, with a pox! have you nobody to rail against but your bawd now? BEL. And you, knave pander, kinsman to a bawd! ROG. You and I, madonna, are cousins. BEL. Of the same blood and making, near allied; Thou that [art] slave to sixpence, base-metall’d villain! ROG. Sixpence? nay, that’s not so; I never took under two shillings fourpence: I hope I know my fee. BEL. I know not against which most to inveigh, For both of you are damn’d so equally. Thou never spar’st for oaths, swear’st any thing, As if thy soul were made of shoe-leather: _God damn me, gentleman, if she be within_! When in the next room she’s found dallying. ROG. If it be my vocation to swear, every man in his vocation: I hope my betters swear, and damn themselves; and why should not I? BEL. Roger, you cheat kind gentlemen. ROG. The more gulls they. BEL. Slave, I cashier thee. MIS. F. And[150] you do cashier him, he shall be entertained. ROG. Shall I? then blurt[151] a’ your service! BEL. As hell would have it, entertain’d by you! I dare the devil himself to match those two. [_Exit._ MIS. F. Marry gup, are you grown so holy, so pure, so honest, with a pox? ROG. Scurvy, honest punk! But stay, madonna, how must our agreement be now? for, you know, I am to have all the comings-in at the hall-door, and you at the chamber-door. MIS. F. True, Roger, except my vails. ROG. Vails? what vails? MIS. F. Why as thus: if a couple come in a coach, and light to lie down a little, then, Roger, that’s my fee, and you may walk abroad, for the coachman himself is their pander.

ROG. Is 'a so? in truth, I have almost forgot, for want of exercise. But how if I fetch this citizen’s wife to that gull, and that madonna to that gallant, how then? MIS. F. Why then, Roger, you are to have sixpence a lane; so many lanes, so many sixpences. ROG. Is’t so? then I see we two shall agree, and live together. MIS. F. Ay, Roger, so long as there be any taverns and bawdy-houses in Milan. [_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A Chamber in_ BELLAFRONT’S _House_.

BELLAFRONT discovered sitting, with a lute; pen, ink, and paper on a table before her.

BEL. _The courtier’s flattering jewels,_ [_Sings._ _Temptation’s only fuels, The lawyer’s ill-got moneys, That suck up poor bees’ honeys, The citizen’s son’s riot, The gallant[’s] costly diet, Silks and velvets, pearls and ambers, Shall not draw me to their chambers. Silks and velvets, &c._ [_She writes._ O ’tis in vain to write! it will not please. Ink on this paper would ha’ but presented The foul black spots that stick upon my soul, And rather made[152] me loathsomer, than wrought My love’s impression in Hippolito’s thought: No, I must turn the chaste leaves of my breast, And pick out some sweet means to breed my rest. Hippolito, believe me, I will be As true unto thy heart as thy heart to thee, And hate all men, their gifts and company!

_Enter_ MATHEO, CASTRUCHIO, FLUELLO, _and_ PIORATTO.