Part 5

LUS. Be nearer; draw nearer: Ye're not so good, methinks; I'm angry with you.

HIP. With me, my lord? I'm angry with myself for't.

LUS. You did prefer a goodly fellow to me: 'Twas wittily elected; 'twas. I thought H' had been a villain, and he proves a knave-- To me a knave.

HIP. I chose him for the best, my lord: 'Tis much my sorrow, if neglect in him Breed discontent in you.

LUS. Neglect! 'twas will. Judge of it. Firmly to tell of an incredible act, Not to be thought, less to be spoken of, 'Twixt my step-mother and the bastard; of Incestuous sweets between 'em.

HIP. Fie, my lord!

LUS. I, in kind loyalty to my father's forehead, Made this a desperate arm; and in that fury Committed treason on the lawful bed, And with my sword e'en ras'd my father's bosom, For which I was within a stroke of death.

HIP. Alack! I'm sorry. 'Sfoot, just upon the stroke, Jars in my brother; 'twill be villainous music.

_Enter_ VENDICE.

VEN. My honour'd lord.

LUS. Away! prythee, forsake us: hereafter we'll not know thee.

VEN. Not know me, my lord! your lordship cannot choose.

LUS. Begone. I say: thou art a false knave.

VEN. Why, the easier to be known, my lord.

LUS. Pish! I shall prove too bitter, with a word Make thee a perpetual prisoner, And lay this iron age upon thee.

VEN. Mum! For there's a doom would make a woman dumb. Missing the bastard--next him--the wind's come about: Now 'tis my brother's turn to stay, mine to go out. [_Aside. Exit._

LUS. H' has greatly mov'd me.

HIP. Much to blame, i' faith.

LUS. But I'll recover, to his ruin. 'Twas told me lately, I know not whether falsely, that you'd a brother.

HIP. Who, I? yes, my good lord, I have a brother.

LUS. How chance the court ne'er saw him? of what nature? How does he apply his hours?

HIP. Faith, to curse fates Who, as he thinks, ordain'd him to be poor-- Keeps at home, full of want and discontent.

LUS. There's hope in him; for discontent and want Is the best clay to mould a villain of. [_Aside._ Hippolito, wish him repair to us: If there be aught in him to please our blood, For thy sake we'll advance him, and build fair His meanest fortunes; for it is in us To rear up towers from cottages.

HIP. It is so, my lord: he will attend your honour; But he's a man in whom much melancholy dwells.

LUS. Why, the better; bring him to court.

HIP. With willingness and speed: Whom he cast off e'en now, must now succeed. Brother, disguise must off; In thine own shape now I'll prefer thee to him: How strangely does himself work to undo him! [_Aside. Exit._

LUS. This fellow will come fitly; he shall kill That other slave, that did abuse my spleen, And made it swell to treason. I have put Much of my heart into him; he must die. He that knows great men's secrets, and proves slight,[79] That man ne'er lives to see his beard turn white. Ay, he shall speed him: I'll employ the brother; Slaves are but nails to drive out one another. He being of black condition, suitable To want and ill-content, hope of preferment Will grind him to an edge.[80]

_Enter_ NOBLES.

1ST NOBLE. Good days unto your honour.

LUS. My kind lords, I do return the like.

2D NOBLE. Saw you my lord the duke?

LUS. My lord and father! is he from court?

1ST NOBLE. He's sure from court; But where--which way his pleasure took, we know not, Nor can we hear on't.

LUS. Here come those should tell. Saw you my lord and father?

3D NOBLE. Not since two hours before noon my lord, And then he privately rode forth.

LUS. O, he's rid forth.

1ST NOBLE. 'Twas wondrous privately.

2D NOBLE. There's none i' th' court had any knowledge on't.

LUS. His grace is old and sudden: 'tis no treason To say the duke, my father, has a humour, Or such a toy about him; what in us Would appear light, in him seems virtuous.

3D NOBLE. 'Tis oracle, my lord. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO. VENDICE _out of_ _his disguise._

HIP. So, so, all's as it should be, y' are yourself.

VEN. How that great villain puts me to my shifts!

HIP. He that did lately in disguise reject thee, Shall, now thou art thyself, as much respect thee.

VEN. 'Twill be the quainter fallacy. But, brother, 'Sfoot, what use will he put me to now, think'st thou?

HIP. Nay, you must pardon me in that: I know not. H' has some employment for you: but what 'tis, He and his secretary (the devil) know best.

VEN. Well, I must suit my tongue to his desires, What colour soe'er they be; hoping at last To pile up all my wishes on his breast.

HIP. Faith, brother, he himself shows the way.

VEN. Now the duke is dead, the realm is clad in clay. His death being not yet known, under his name The people still are govern'd. Well, thou his son Art not long-liv'd: thou shalt not joy his death; To kill thee, then, I should most honour thee; For 'twould stand firm in every man's belief, Thou'st a kind child, and only died'st with grief.

HIP. You fetch about well; but let's talk in present. How will you appear in fashion different, As well as in apparel, to make all things possible? If you be but once tripp'd, we fall for ever. It is not the least policy to be double; You must change tongue: familiar was your first.

VEN. Why, I'll bear me in some strain of melancholy, And string myself with heavy-sounding wire, Like such an instrument, that speaks merry things sadly.

HIP. That is as I meant; I gave you out at first in discontent.

VEN. I'll tune myself, and then------

HIP. 'Sfoot, here he comes. Hast thought upon't?

VEN. Salute him; fear not me.

_Enter_ LUSURIOSO.

LUS. Hippolito!

HIP. Your lordship------

LUS. What's he yonder?

HIP. 'Tis Vendice, my discontented brother, Whom, 'cording to your will, I've brought to court.

LUS. Is that thy brother? Beshrew me, a good presence; I wonder h' has been from the court so long. Come nearer.

HIP. Brother! Lord Lusurioso, the duke's son.

LUS. Be more to us; welcome; nearer yet.

VEN. How don you? gi'[81] you good den.

[_Snatches off his hat, and makes legs to him._

LUS. We thank thee. How strangely such a coarse homely salute Shows in the palace, where we greet in fire-- Nimble and desperate tongues: should we name God in a salutation, 'twould ne'er be stood on,[82] heaven! Tell me, what has made thee so melancholy?

VEN. Why, going to law.

LUS. Why, will that make a man melancholy?

VEN. Yes, to look long upon ink and black buckram. I went me to law in _anno quadragesimo secundo_, and I waded out of it in _anno sexagesimo tertio_.

LUS. What, three-and-twenty years in law?

VEN. I have known those that have been five-and-fifty, and all about pullen[83] and pigs.

LUS. May it be possible such men should breathe, To vex the terms so much?

VEN. Tis food to some, my lord. There are old men at the present, that are so poisoned with the affectation of law-words (having had many suits canvassed), that their common talk is nothing but Barbary Latin. They cannot so much as pray but in law, that their sins may be removed with a writ of error, and their souls fetched up to heaven with a sasarara.[84]

HIP.[85] It seems most strange to me; Yet all the world meets round in the same bent: Where the heart's set, there goes the tongue's consent. How dost apply thy studies, fellow?

VEN. Study? why, to think how a great rich man lies a-dying, and a poor cobbler tolls the bell for him. How he cannot depart the world, and see the great chest stand before him, when he lies speechless. How he will point you readily to all the boxes; and when he is past all memory, as the gossips guess, then thinks he of forfeitures and obligations; nay, when to all men's hearings he whurls and rattles in the throat, he's busy threatening his poor tenants. And this would last me now some seven years' thinking, or thereabouts. But I have a conceit a-coming in picture upon this; I draw it myself, which, i' faith, la, I'll present to your honour; you shall not choose but like it, for your honour shall give me nothing for it.

LUS. Nay, you mistake me, then, For I am publish'd bountiful enough. Let's taste of your conceit.

VEN. In picture, my lord?

LUS. Ay, in picture.

VEN. Marry, this it is--_A usuring father to be boiling in hell, and his son and heir with a whore dancing over him._

HIP. H' has par'd him to the quick. [_Aside._

LUS. The conceit's pretty, i' faith; But, take't upon my life, 'twill ne'er be lik'd.

VEN. No? why I'm sure the whore will be lik'd well enough.

HIP. If she were out o' the picture, he'd like her then himself.

[_Aside._

VEN. And as for the son and heir, he shall be an eyesore to no young revellers, for he shall be drawn in cloth-of-gold breeches.

LUS. And thou hast put my meaning in the pockets, And canst not draw that out? My thought was this: To see the picture of a usuring father Boiling in hell--our rich men would never like it.

VEN. O, true, I cry you heartily mercy. I know the reason, for some of them had rather Be damned in deed than damned in colours.

LUS. A parlous melancholy! h' has wit enough To murder any man, and I'll give him means. [_Aside._ I think thou art ill-moneyed?

VEN. Money! ho, ho![86] 'T has been my want so long, 'tis now my scoff: I've e'en forgot what colour silver's of.

LUS. It hits as I could wish. [_Aside._

VEN. I get good clothes Of those that dread my humour; and for table-room I feed on those that cannot be rid of me.

LUS. Somewhat to set thee up withal.

[_Gives him money._

VEN. O mine eyes!

LUS. How now, man?

VEN. Almost struck blind; This bright unusual shine to me seems proud; I dare not look till the sun be in a cloud.

LUS. I think I shall affect[87] his melancholy. How are they now?[88]

VEN. The better for your asking.

LUS. You shall be better yet, if you but fasten Truly on my intent. Now y' are both present, I will unbrace such a close private villain Unto your vengeful swords, the like ne'er heard of, Who hath disgrac'd you much, and injur'd us.

HIP. Disgrac'd us, my lord?

LUS. Ay, Hippolito. I kept it here till now, that both your angers Might meet him at once.

VEN. I'm covetous To know the villain.

LUS. You know him: that slave-pander Piato, whom we threaten'd last With irons in perpetual 'prisonment.

VEN. All this is I. [_Aside._

HIP. Is't he, my lord?

LUS. I'll tell you, you first preferr'd him to me.

VEN. Did you, brother? [_Aside._

HIP. I did indeed.

LUS. And the ungrateful villain, To quit that kindness, strongly wrought with me-- Being, as you see, a likely man for pleasure-- With jewels to corrupt your virgin sister.

HIP. O villain!

VEN. He shall surely die that did it. [_Aside._

LUS. I, far from thinking any virgin harm, Especially knowing her to be as chaste As that part which scarce suffers to be touch'd-- The eye--would not endure him.

VEN. Would you not, my lord? 'Twas wondrous honourably done.

LUS. But with some few[89] frowns kept him out.

VEN. Out, slave! [_Aside._

LUS. What did me he, but in revenge of that, Went of his own free will to make infirm Your sister's honour (whom I honour with my soul For chaste respect) and not prevailing there, (As 'twas but desperate folly to attempt it) In mere spleen, by the way, waylays your mother, Whose honour being a coward as it seems, Yielded by little force.

VEN. Coward indeed! [_Aside._

LUS. He, proud of this advantage (as he thought), Brought me this news for happy. But I, heaven forgive me for't!----

VEN. What did your honour?

LUS. In rage push'd him from me, Trampled beneath his throat, spurn'd him, and bruis'd: Indeed I was too truel, to say troth.

HIP. Most nobly manag'd!

VEN. Has not heaven an ear? is all the lightning wasted? [_Aside._

LUS. If I now were so impatient in a modest cause, What should you be?

VEN. Full mad: he shall not live To see the moon change.

LUS. He's about the palace; Hippolito, entice him this way, that thy brother May take full mark of him.

HIP. Heart! that shall not need, my lord: I can direct him so far.

LUS. Yet for my hate's sake, Go, wind him this way. I'll see him bleed myself.

HIP. What now, brother? [_Aside._

VEN. Nay, e'en what you will--y' are put to't, brother. [_Aside._

HIP. An impossible task, I'll swear, To bring him hither, that's already here. [_Aside._

[_Exit_ HIPPOLITO.

LUS. Thy name? I have forgot it.

VEN. Vendice, my lord.

LUS. 'Tis a good name that.

VEN. Ay, a revenger. [_Aside._

LUS. It does betoken courage; thou shouldst be valiant, And kill thine enemies.

VEN. That's my hope, my lord.

LUS. This slave is one.

VEN. I'll doom him.

LUS. Then I'll praise thee. Do thou observe me best, and I'll best raise thee.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

VEN. Indeed, I thank you.

LUS. Now, Hippolito, where's the slave-pander?

HIP. Your good lordship Would have a loathsome sight of him, much offensive. He's not in case now to be seen, my lord. The worst of all the deadly sins is in him-- That beggarly damnation, drunkenness.

LUS. Then he's a double slave.

VEN. 'Twas well convey'd upon a sudden wit.

LUS. What, are you both Firmly resolv'd? I'll see him dead myself.

VEN. Or else let not us live.

LUS. You may direct your brother to take note of him.

HIP. I shall.

LUS. Rise but in this, and you shall never fall.

VEN. Your honour's vassals.

LUS. This was wisely carried. [_Aside._ Deep policy in us makes fools of such: Then must a slave die, when he knows too much. [_Exit_ LUSURIOSO.

VEN. O thou almighty patience! 'tis my wonder That such a fellow, impudent and wicked, Should not be cloven as he stood; Or with a secret wind burst open! Is there no thunder left:[90] or is't kept up In stock for heavier vengeance? there it goes!

HIP. Brother, we lose ourselves.

VEN. But I have found it; 'Twill hold, 'tis sure; thanks, thanks to any spirit, That mingled it 'mongst my inventions.

HIP. What is't?

VEN. Tis sound and good; thou shalt partake it; I'm hir'd to kill myself.

HIP. True.

VEN. Prythee, mark it; And the old duke being dead, but not convey'd, For he's already miss'd too, and you know, Murder will peep out of the closest husk.

HIP. Most true.

VEN. What say you then to this device? If we dress'd up the body of the duke?

HIP. In that disguise of yours?

VEN. Y' are quick, y' have reach'd it.

HIP. I like it wondrously.

VEN. And being in drink, as you have publish'd him. To lean him on his elbow, as if sleep had caught him, Which claims most interest in such sluggy men?

HIP. Good yet; but here's a doubt; We, thought[91] by th' duke's son to kill that pander, Shall, when he is known, be thought to kill the duke.

VEN. Neither; O thanks, it is substantial: For that disguise being on him which I wore,

It will be thought I, which he calls the pander, did kill the duke, and fled away in his apparel, leaving him so disguised to avoid swift pursuit.

HIP. Firmer and firmer.

VEN. Nay, doubt not, 'tis in grain: I warrant it holds colour.

HIP. Let's about it.

VEN. By the way, too, now I think on't, brother, Let's conjure that base devil out of our mother. [_Exeunt._

FOOTNOTES:

[79] [Weak, treacherous.]

[80] _The Nobles enter_ is printed in the 4o, as if it were a part of the speech of Lusurioso.--_Collier._

[81] [Edits., _god_.]

[82] [Edits., _on't_.]

[83] Poultry.

[84] A vulgar corruption of _certiorari_.--_Pegge._

[85] Mr Gilchrist would substitute _Lusurioso_ for _Hippolito_ here; but the change is not necessary to the sense, and is not supported by the quartos.--_Collier._

[86] ["Mark the transition from prose to verse."--_MS. note in former edit._]

[87] [Like.]

[88] _How art thou now?_ the inquiry has stood in previous editions, but _How are they now?_ is the correct reading restored from the old copy. The words have reference to Vendice's eyes.--_Collier._

[89] [Edits., _five_.]

[90] The same thought occurs in "Othello," act v. sc. 2--

"Are there no stones in heaven. But what serve for the thunder?"

[91] The 4o reads, _methought_.--_Collier._

ACTUS V.[92]

_Enter the_ DUCHESS, _arm in arm with_ SPURIO: _he_ _seemeth lasciviously to look on her. After them,_ _enter_ SUPERVACUO _running, with a rapier;_ AMBITIOSO _stops him_.

SPU. Madam, unlock yourself; Should it be seen, your arm would be suspected.

DUCH. Who is't that dares suspect or this or these? May not we deal our favours where we please?

SPU. I'm confident you may. [_Exeunt._

AMB. 'Sfoot, brother, hold.

SUP. Woult let the bastard shame us?

AMB. Hold, hold, brother! there's fitter time than now.

SUP. Now, when I see it!

AMB. 'Tis too much seen already.

SUP. Seen and known; The nobler she's, the baser is she grown.

AMB. If she were bent lasciviously (the fault Of mighty women, that sleep soft)--O death! Must she needs choose such an unequal sinner, To make all worse?--

SUP. A bastard! the duke's bastard! shame heap'd on shame!

AMB. O our disgrace! Most women have small waists the world throughout; But their desires are thousand miles about.

SUP. Come, stay not here, let's after, and prevent, Or else they'll sin faster than we'll repent. [_Exeunt._

_Enter_ VENDICE _and_ HIPPOLITO, _bringing out their_ _mother, one by one shoulder, and the other by_ _the other, with daggers in their hands._

VEN. O thou, for whom no name is bad enough!

GRA. What mean my sons? what, will you murder me?

VEN. Wicked, unnatural parent!

HIP. Fiend of women!

GRA. O! are sons turn'd monsters? help!

VEN. In vain.

GRA. Are you so barbarous to set iron nipples Upon the breast that gave you suck?

VEN. That breast Is turn'd to quarled poison.[93]

GRA. Cut not your days for't! am not I your mother?[94]

VEN. Thou dost usurp that title now by fraud, For in that shell of mother breeds a bawd.

GRA. A bawd! O name far loathsomer than hell!

HIP. It should be so, knew'st thou thy office well.

GRA. I hate it.

VEN. Ah! is't possible, you powers on high, That women should dissemble when they die?

GRA. Dissemble!

VEN. Did not the duke's son direct A fellow of the worst[95] condition hither, That did corrupt all that was good in thee? Made thee uncivilly forget thyself, And work our sister to his lust?

GRA. Who, I? That had been monstrous. I defy that man For any such intent! none lives so pure, But shall be soil'd with slander. Good son, believe it not.

VEN. O, I'm in doubt, Whether I am myself, or no---- [_Aside._ Stay, let me look again upon this face. Who shall be sav'd, when mothers have no grace?

HIP. 'Twould make one half despair.

VEN. I was the man. Defy me now; let's see, do't modestly.

GRA. O hell unto my soul!

VEN. In that disguise, I, sent from the duke's son, Tried you, and found you base metal, As any villain might have done.

GRA. O, no, No tongue but yours could have bewitch'd me so.

VEN. O nimble in damnation, quick in ru'n![96] There is no devil could strike fire so soon: I am confuted in a word.

GRA. O sons, forgive me! to myself I'll prove more true; You that should honour me, I kneel to you. [_Kneels and weeps._

VEN. A mother to give aim to her own daughter![97]

HIP. True, brother; how far beyond nature 'tis, Though many mothers do't!

VEN. Nay, and you draw tears once, go you to bed; Wet will make iron blush and change to red. Brother, it rains. 'Twill spoil your dagger: house it.

HIP. 'Tis done.

VEN. I'faith, 'tis a sweet shower, it does much good. The fruitful grounds and meadows of her soul Have been long dry: pour down, thou blessed dew! Rise, mother; troth, this shower has made you higher!

GRA. O you heavens! take this infectious spot out of my soul, I'll rinse it in seven waters of mine eyes! Make my tears salt enough to taste of grace. To weep is to our sex naturally given: But to weep truly, that's a gift from heaven.

VEN. Nay, I'll kiss you now. Kiss her, brother: Let's marry her to our souls, wherein's no lust, And honourably love her.

HIP. Let it be.

VEN. For honest women are so seld[98] and rare, 'Tis good to cherish those poor few that are. O you of easy wax! do but imagine Now the disease has left you, how leprously That office would have cling'd unto your forehead! All mothers that had any graceful hue Would have worn masks to hide their face at you: It would have grown to this--at your foul name, Green-colour'd maids would have turned red with shame.

HIP. And then our sister, full of hireling[99] baseness----

VEN. There had been boiling lead again, The duke's son's great concubine! A drab of state, a cloth-o'-silver slut, To have her train borne up, and her soul trail i' th' dirt![100]

HIP. Great, to be miserably great; rich, to be eternally wretched.

VEN. O common madness! Ask but the thrivingest harlot in cold blood, She'd give the world to make her honour good. Perhaps you'll say, but only to the duke's son In private; why she first begins with one, Who afterward to thousands proves a whore: "Break ice in one place, it will crack in more."

GRA. Most certainly applied!

HIP. O brother, you forget our business.

VEN. And well-remember'd; joy's a subtle elf, I think man's happiest when he forgets himself, Farewell, once dry, now holy-water'd mead; Our hearts wear feathers, that before wore lead.

GRA. I'll give you this--that one I never knew Plead better for and 'gainst the devil than you.

VEN. You make me proud on't.

HIP. Commend us in all virtue to our sister.

VEN. Ay, for the love of heaven, to that true maid.

GRA. With my best words.

VEN. Why, that was motherly said.[101] [_Exeunt._

GRA. I wonder now, what fury did transport me! I feel good thoughts begin to settle in me. O, with what forehead can I look on her, Whose honour I've so impiously beset? And here she comes--

_Enter_ CASTIZA.

CAS. Now, mother, you have wrought with me so strongly, That what for my advancement, as to calm The trouble of your tongue, I am content.

GRA. Content, to what?

CAS. To do as you have wish'd me; To prostitute my breast to the duke's son; And put myself to common usury.

GRA. I hope you will not so!

CAS. Hope you I will not? That's not the hope you look to be sav'd in.

GRA. Truth, but it is.