Chapter CXXXVIII: Act IV: Scene I.4308

_Enter two men leading_ KICKSHAW _blinded, and go off suddenly_.

_Kick._ I am not hurt; my patience to obey ’em,
Not without fear to ha’ my throat cut else,
Did me a courtesy. Whither ha’ they brought me?
[_Pulls off a bandage._]
’T is devilish dark; the bottom of a well
At midnight, with but two stars on the top, 5
Were broad day to this darkness. I but think
How like a whirlwind these rogues caught me up,
And smothered my eyesight. Let me see,
These may be spirits, and, for aught I know,
Have brought me hither over twenty steeples. 10
Pray Heaven they were not bailiffs! that ’s more worth
My fear, and this a prison. All my debts
Reek in my nostril, and my bones begin
To ache with fear to be made dice; and yet
This is too calm and quiet for a prison.— 15
What if the riddle prove I am robb’d? And yet
I did not feel ’em search me. How now! music! [_Music within._]
_Enter_ DECOY, _like an old_ Woman, _with a light_.
And a light! What beldam ’s this? I cannot pray.—
What art?

_Dec._ A friend. Fear not, young man, I am
No spirit.

_Kick._ Off!

_Dec._ Despise me not for age, 20
Or this coarse outside, which I wear not out
Of poverty. Thy eyes be witness, ’t is
No cave, or beggar’s cell, th’ art brought to; let
That gold speak here ’s no want, which thou mayst spend,
And find a spring to tire even prodigality, 25
If thou be’st wise. [_Gives him a purse._]

_Kick._ The devil was a coiner
From the beginning; yet the gold looks current.

_Dec._ Th’ art still in wonder: know, I am mistress of
This house, and of a fortune that shall serve
And feed thee with delights; ’t was I sent for thee; 30
The jewel and the letter came from me.
It was my art thus to contrive our meeting,
Because I would not trust thee with my fame,
Until I found thee worth a woman’s honour.

_Kick_ [_Aside._] Honour and fame! the devil means to have 35
A care on ’s credit. Though she sent for me,
I hope she has another customer
To do the trick withal; I would not turn
Familiar to a witch.

_Dec._ What say’st? Canst thou
Dwell in my arms to-night? Shall we change kisses, 40
And entertain the silent hours with pleasure,
Such as old Time shall be delighted with,
And blame the too swift motion of his wings,
While we embrace?

_Kick._ [_Aside._] Embrace! She has had no teeth
This twenty years, and the next violent cough 45
Brings up her tongue; it cannot possibly
Be sound at root. I do not think but one
Strong sneeze upon her, and well meant, would make
Her quarters fall away; one kick would blow 49
Her up like gunpowder, and loose all her limbs.
She is so cold, an incubus would not heat her;
Her phlegm would quench a furnace, and her breath
Would damp a musket bullet.

_Dec._ Have you, sir,
Consider’d?

_Kick._ What?

_Dec._ My proposition. 54
Canst love?

_Kick._ I could have done; whom do you mean?
I know you are pleas’d but to make sport.

_Dec._ Thou art not
So dull of soul as thou appear’st.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] This is
But some device; my grannam has some trick in ’t.—
Yes, I can love.

_Dec._ But canst thou affect me?

_Kick._ Although to reverence so grave a matron 60
Were an ambitious word in me, yet since
You give me boldness, I do love you.

_Dec._ Then
Thou art my own.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] Has she no cloven foot?

_Dec._ And I am thine, and all that I command
Thy servants; from this minute thou art happy,
And fate in thee will crown all my desires. 66
I griev’d a proper man should be compell’d
To bring his body to the common market.
My wealth shall make thee glorious; and, the more
To encourage thee, howe’er this form may fright 70
Thy youthful eyes, yet thou wo’t find, by light
Of thy own sense, for other light is banish’d
My chamber, when our arms tie lovers’ knots,
And kisses seal the welcome of our lips,
I shall not there affright thee, nor seem old, 75
With rivell’d[4309] veins; my skin is smooth and soft
As ermines, with a spirit to meet thine,
Active, and equal to the Queen of Love’s
When she did court Adonis.

_Kick._ [_Aside._] This doth more
Confirm she is a devil, and I am 80
Within his own dominions. I must on,
Or else be torn, a’ pieces. I have heard
These succubae must not be crost.

_Dec._ We trifle
Too precious time away; I’ll show you a prospect
Of the next chamber, and then out the candle. 85

_Kick._ Have you no sack i’ th’ house? I would go arm’d
Upon this breach.

_Dec._ It sh’ not need.

_Kick._ One word.
Mother; have not you been a cat in your days?

_Dec._ I am glad you are so merry, sir. You observe
That bed? [_Opens a door._]

_Kick._ A very brave one.

_Dec._ When you are 90
Disrob’d, you can come thither in the dark.
You sha’ not stay for me? Come, as you wish
For happiness. _Exit._

_Kick._ I am preferr’d, if I
Be modest and obey: she cannot have 94
The heart to do me harm, an she were Hecate
Herself. I will have a strong faith, and think
I march upon a mistress, the less evil.
If I scape fire now, I defy the devil. _Exit._

[SCENE II.][4310]

_Enter_ FREDERICK [_gaily dressed_,] LITTLEWORTH, _and_ Steward.

_Fred._ And how d’ye like me now?

_Stew._ Most excellent.

_Fred._ Your opinion, Master Littleworth.

_Little._ Your French tailor
Has made you a perfect gentleman; I may
Converse now with you, and preserve my credit.
D’ye find no alteration in your body 5
With these new clothes?

_Fred._ My body alter’d? No.

_Little._ You are not yet in fashion then. That must
Have a new motion, garb, and posture too,
Or all your pride is cast away; it is not
The cut of your apparel makes a gallant, 10
But the geometrical wearing of your clothes.

_Stew._ Master Littleworth tells you right; you wear your hat
Too like a citizen.

_Little._ ’T is like a midwife;
Place it with best advantage of your hair. 14
Is half your feather moulted? This does make
No show; it should spread over, like a canopy;
Your hot-rein’d monsieur wears it for a shade
And cooler to his back. Your doublet must
Be more unbutton’d hereabouts; you’ll not
Be a sloven else, a foul shirt is no blemish; 20
You must be confident, and outface clean linen.
Your doublet and your breeches must be allow’d
No private meeting here: your cloak’s too long.
It reaches to your buttock, and doth smell
Too much of Spanish gravity; the fashion 25
Is to wear nothing but a cape; a coat
May be allow’d a covering for one elbow,
And some, to avoid the trouble, choose to walk
In _querpo_,[4311] thus.

_Stew._ [_Aside._] Your coat and cloak’s a brushing
In Long-Lane, Lombard.[4312]

_Fred._ But what if it rain? 30

_Little._ Your belt about your shoulder is sufficient
To keep off any storm; beside, a reed
But wav’d discreetly, has so many pores,
It sucks up all the rain that falls about one. 34
With this defence, when other men have been
Wet to the skin through all their cloaks, I have
Defied a tempest, and walk’d by the taverns
Dry as a bone.

_Stew._ [_Aside._] Because he had no money
To call for wine.

_Fred._ Why, do you walk enchanted?
Have you such pretty charms in town? But stay; 40
Who must I have to attend me?

_Little._ Is not that
Yet thought upon?

_Stew._ I have laid out[4313] for servants.

_Little._ They are everywhere.

_Stew._ I cannot yet be furnish’d
With such as I would put into his hands.

_Fred._ Of what condition must they be, and how 45
Many in number, sir?

_Little._ Beside your fencing,
Your singing, dancing, riding, and French master,
Two may serve domestic, to be constant waiters
Upon a gentleman; a fool, a pimp.

_Stew._ For these two officers I have enquir’d,
And I am promis’d a convenient whiskin.[4314] 51
I could save charges, and employ the pie-wench.
That carries her intelligence in whitepots;[4315]
Or ’t is but taking order[4316] with the woman
That [trolls][4317] the ballads, she could fit him with 55
A concubine to any tune; but I
Have a design to place a fellow with him
That has read all Sir Pandarus’ works; a Trojan[4318]
That lies conceal’d, and is acquainted with
Both city and suburban fripperies,[4319] 60
Can fetch ’em with a spell at midnight to him,
And warrant which are for his turn; can, for
A need, supply the surgeon too.

_Fred._ I like thy providence;[4320] such a one deserves
A livery twice a year. 65

_Stew._ It sha’ not need; a cast suit of your worship’s
Will serve; he’ll find a cloak to cover it,
Out of his share with those he brings to bed to you.

_Fred._ But must I call this fellow pimp?

_Little._ It is
Not necessary; [Tom,] or Jack, or Harry, 70
Or what he ’s known abroad by, will sound better,
That men may think he is a Christian.

_Fred._ But hear you, Master Littleworth: is there not
A method and degrees of title in
Men of this art?

_Little._ According to the honour 75
Of men that do employ ’em. An emperor
May give this office to a duke; a king
May have his viceroy to negociate for him;
A duke may use a lord; the lord a knight,
A knight may trust a gentleman; and when 80
They are abroad, and merry, gentlemen
May pimp to one another.

_Fred._ Good, good fellowship!
But for the fool now, that should wait on me,
And break me jests?

_Little._ A fool is necessary.

_Stew._ By any[4321] means.

_Fred._ But which of these two servants 85
Must now take place?[4322]

_Little._ That question, Master Frederick,
The school of heraldry should conclude upon:
But if my judgment may be heard, the fool
Is your first man; and it is known a point
Of state to have a fool.

_Stew._ But, sir, the other 90
Is held the finer servant; his employments
Are full of trust, his person clean and nimble,
And none so soon can leap into preferment,
Where fools are poor.

_Little._ Not all; there’s story for’t;
Princes have been no wiser than they should be.
Would any nobleman, that were no fool, 95
Spend all in hope of the philosopher’s stone,
To buy new lordships in another country?
Would knights build colleges, or gentlemen
Of good estates challenge the field, and fight, 100
Because a whore wo’ not be honest? Come,
Fools are a family over all the world;
We do affect one naturally; indeed
The fool is leiger[4323] with us.

_Stew._ Then the pimp
Is extraordinary.

_Fred._ Do not you fall out 105
About their places.—Here’s my noble aunt!

_Enter_ LADY BORNWELL.

_Little._ How do you like your nephew, madam, now?

_Lady B._ Well!—Turn about, Frederick.—
Very well!

_Fred._ Am I not now a proper gentleman?
The virtue of rich clothes! Now could I take
The wall of Julius Caesar, or affront 111
Great Pompey’s upper lip, and defy the senate.
Nay, I can be as proud as your own heart, madam,
You may take that for your comfort; I put on
That virtue with my clothes, and I doubt not
But in a little time I shall be impudent 116
As any page, or player’s boy. I am
Beholding to this gentleman’s good discipline;
But I shall do him credit in my practice.
Your steward has some pretty notions, too, 120
In moral mischief.

_Lady B._ Your desert in this
Exceeds all other service, and shall bind me
Both to acknowledge and reward.

_Little._ Sweet madam,
Think me but worth your favour; I would creep
Upon my knees to honour you, and for every 125
Minute you lend to my reward, I’ll pay
A year of serviceable tribute.

_Lady B._ You
Can compliment.

_Little._ (_Aside._) Thus still she puts me off;
Unless I speak the downright word, she’ll never
Understand me. A man would think that creeping 130
Upon one’s knees were English to a lady.

_Enter_ KICKSHAW.

_Kick._ How is’t, Jack.—Pleasures attend you, madam!
How does my plant of honour?

_Lady B._ Who is this?

_Kick._ ’T is Alexander.

_Lady B._ Rich and glorious!

_Little._ ’T is Alexander the Great.

_Kick._ And my Bucephalus 135
Waits at the door.

_Lady B._ Your case is alter’d, sir.

_Kick._ I cannot help these things, the Fates will have it;
’T is not my land does this.

_Little._ But thou hast a plough
That brings it in.

_Lady B._ Now he looks brave and lovely.

_Fred._ Welcome, my gallant Macedonian, 140

_Kick._ Madam, you gave your nephew for my pupil.
I read[4324] but in a tavern; if you’ll honour us,
The Bear at the Bridge foot shall entertain you.
A drawer[4325] is my Ganymede, he shall skink[4326]
Brisk nectar to us; we will only have 145
A dozen partridge in a dish; as many pheasants,
Quails, cocks, and godwits shall come marching up
Like the train’d-band;[4327] a fort of sturgeon
Shall give most bold defiance to an army,
And triumph o’er the table.—

_Lady B._ Sir, it will 150
But dull the appetite to hear more, and mine
Must be excus’d. Another time I may be
Your guest.

_Kick._ ’T is grown in fashion now with ladies;
When you please, I ’ll attend you. Littleworth.—
Come, Frederick.

_Fred._ We ’ll have music; I love noise. 155
We will outroar the Thames, and shake the bridge, boy.
_Exit_ [_with_ KICKSHAW].

_Little._ Madam, I kiss your hand; would you would think
Of your poor servant: flesh and blood is frail,
And troublesome to carry, without help.

_Lady B._ A coach will easily convey it, or 160
You may take water at Strand Bridge.

_Little._ But I
Have taken fire.

_Lady B._ The Thames will cool [it, sir].

_Little._ But never quench my heart; your charity
Can only do that.

_Lady B._ I will keep it cold
Of purpose.

_Little._ Now you bless me, and I dare 165
Be drunk in expectation. [_Exit._]

_Lady B._ I am confident
He knows me not, and I were worse than mad
To be my own betrayer.—Here ’s my husband.

_Enter_ SIR THOMAS BORNWELL.

_Born._ Why, how now, Aretina? What! alone?
The mystery of this solitude? My house 170
Turn desert o’ the sudden! All the gamesters
Blown up! Why is the music put to silence?
Or have their instruments caught a cold, since we
Gave ’em the last heat? I must know thy ground
Of melancholy.

_Lady B._ You are merry, as 175
You came from kissing Celestina.

_Born._ I
Feel her yet warm upon my lip; she is
Most excellent company: I did not think
There was that sweetness in her sex. I must
Acknowledge, ’t was thy cure to disenchant me 180
From a dull husband to an active lover.
With such a lady I could spend more years
Than since my birth my glass hath run soft minutes,
And yet be young; her presence hath a spell
To keep off age; she has an eye would strike 185
Fire through an adamant.

_Lady B._ I have heard as much
Bestow’d upon a dull-fac’d chambermaid,
Whom love and wit would thus commend. True beauty
Is mock’d when we compare thus, itself being
Above what can be fetch’d[4328] to make it lovely;
Or,[4329] could our thoughts reach something to declare 191
The glories of a face, or body’s elegance
(That touches but our sense), when beauty spreads
Over the soul, and calls up understanding
To look [what][4330] thence is offer’d, and admire! 195
In both I must acknowledge Celestina
Most excellently fair, fair above all
The beauties I ha’ seen, and one most worthy
Man’s love and wonder.

_Born._ Do you speak, Aretina,
This with a pure sense to commend? Or is ’t 200
The mockery of my praise?

_Lady B._ Although it shame
Myself, I must be just, and give her all
The excellency of women; and were I
A man—

_Born._ What then?

_Lady B._ I know not with what loss
I should attempt her love. She is a piece 205
So angelically moving, I should think
Frailty excus’d to dote upon her form,
And almost virtue to be wicked with her. _Exit._

_Born._ What should this mean? This is no jealousy,
Or she believes I counterfeit. I feel 210
Something within me, like a heat, to give
Her cause, would Celestina but consent.
What a frail thing is man! It is not worth
Our glory to be chaste, while we deny
Mirth and converse with women. He is good 215
That dares the tempter, yet corrects his blood. _Exit._

[SCENE III.][4331]

[_Enter_] CELESTINA, MARIANA, _and_ ISABELLA.

_Cel._ I have told you all my knowledge: since he is pleas’d
To invite himself, he shall be entertain’d,
And you shall be my witnesses.

_Mar._ Who comes with him?

_Cel._ Sir William Scentlove, that prepar’d me for
The honourable encounter. I expect 5
His lordship every minute.

_Enter_ SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE.

_Scent._ My lord is come.

_Cel._ He has honour’d me.

_Enter_ Lord—_and_ HAIRCUT.

_Scent._ My Lord, your periwig is awry.

_Lord._ You, sir—
_While_ HAIRCUT _is busy about his hair_, SIR WILLIAM SCENTLOVE _goes
to_ CELESTINA.

_Scent._ You may guess at the gentleman that ’s with him.
It is his barber, madam, d’ ye observe?
An your ladyship wants a shaver.

_Hair._ She is here, sir. 10
I am betray’d.—Scentlove, your plot. I may
Have opportunity to be reveng’d. _Exit._

_Scent._ She in the midst.

_Lord._ She ’s fair, I must confess;
But does she keep this distance out of state?

_Cel._ Though I am poor in language to express 15
How much your lordship honours me, my heart
Is rich and proud in such a guest. I shall
Be out of love with every air abroad,
And for his grace done my unworthy house,
Be a fond prisoner, become anchorite, 20
And spend my hours in prayer, to reward
The blessing and the bounty of this presence.

_Lord._ Though you could turn each place you move in to
A temple, rather than a wall should hide
So rich a beauty from the world, it were 25
Less want to lose our piety and your prayer.
A throne were fitter to present you to
Our wonder, whence your eyes, more worth than all
They look on, should chain every heart a prisoner.

_Scent._ ’T was pretty well come off.

_Lord._ By your example 30
I shall know how to compliment; in this,
You more confirm my welcome.

_Cel._ I shall love
My lips the better, if their silent language
Persuade your lordship but to think so truly.

_Lord._ You make me smile, madam.

_Cel._ I hope you came not 35
With fear that any sadness here should shake
One blossom from your eye. I should be miserable
To present any object should displease you.

_Lord._ You do not, madam.

_Cel._ As I should account
It no less sorrow, if your lordship should 40
Lay too severe a censure on my freedom.
I wo’ not court a prince against his justice,
Nor bribe him with a smile to think me honest.
Pardon, my lord, this boldness, and the mirth
That may flow from me. I believe my father 45
Thought of no winding-sheet when he begot me.

_Lord._ She has a merry soul.—It will become
Me ask your pardon, madam, for my rude
Approach, so much a stranger to your knowledge.

_Cel._ Not, my lord, so much stranger to my knowledge; 50
Though I have but seen your person afar off,
I am acquainted with your character,
Which I have heard so often, I can speak it.

_Lord._ You shall do me an honour.

_Cel._ If your lordship will
Be patient.

_Lord._ And glad to hear my faults. 55

_Cel._ That as your conscience can agree upon ’em;
However, if your lordship give me privilege,
I’ll tell you what’s the opinion of the world.

_Lord._ You cannot please me better.

_Cel._ Y’are a lord
Born with as much nobility as would, 59
Divided, serve to make ten noblemen,
Without a herald; but with so much spirit
And height of soul, as well might furnish twenty.
You are learn’d, a thing not compatible now
With native honour; and are master of 65
A language that doth chain all ears,[4332] and charm
All hearts, where you persuade; a wit so flowing,
And prudence to correct it, that all men
Believe they only meet in you, which, with 69
A spacious memory, make up the full wonders:
To these you have [joined][4333] valour and upon
A noble cause, know how to use a sword
To honour’s best advantage, though you wear[4334] none.
You are as bountiful as the showers that fall
Into the spring’s green bosom; as you were 75
Created lord of Fortune, not her steward;
So constant to the cause in which you make
Yourself an advocate, you dare all dangers;
And men had rather you should be their friend,
Than justice or the bench bound up together. 80

_Lord._ But did you hear all this?

_Cel._ And more, my lord.

_Lord._ Pray let me have it, madam.

_Cel._ To all these virtues there is added one,—
(Your lordship will remember, when I name it,
I speak but what I gather from the voice 85
Of others)—it is grown to a full fame
That you have lov’d a woman.

_Lord._ But one, madam?

_Cel._ Yes, many; give me leave to smile, my lord,
I shall not need to interpret in what sense;
But you have show’d yourself right honourable, 90
And, for your love to ladies, have deserv’d,
If their vote might prevail, a marble statue.
I make no comment on the people’s text,—
My lord, I should be sorry to offend.

_Lord._ You cannot, madam; these are things we owe 95
To nature for.

_Cel._ And honest men will pay
Their debts.

_Lord._ If they be able, or compound.

_Cel._ She had a hard heart would be unmerciful,
And not give day to men so promising;
But you ow’d women nothing.

_Lord._ Yes, I am 100
Still in their debt, and I must owe them love,
It was part of my character.

_Cel._ With your lordship’s
Pardon, I only said you had a fame
For loving women; but of late, men say
You have, against the imperial laws of love, 105
Restrain’d the active flowings of your blood,
And with a mistress buried all that is
Hop’d for in love’s succession, as all beauty
Had died with her, and left the world benighted!
In this you more dishonour all our sex 110
Than you did grace a part; when everywhere
Love tempts your eye to admire a glorious harvest,
And everywhere as full blown ears submit
Their golden heads, the laden trees bow down
Their willing fruit, and court your amorous tasting. 115

_Lord._ I see men would dissect me to a fibre;
But do you believe this?

_Cel._ It is my wonder,
I must confess, a man of nobler earth
Than goes to vulgar composition,
(Born and bred high, so unconfin’d, so rich 120
In fortunes, and so read in all that sum
Up human knowledge, to feed gloriously,
And live at court, the only sphere wherein
True beauty moves, nature’s most wealthy garden,
Where every blossom is more worth than all 125
The Hesperian fruit by jealous dragon watch’d,
Where all delights do circle appetite,
And pleasures multiply by being tasted,)
Should be so lost with thought of one turn’d ashes.
There’s nothing left, my lord, that can excuse you, 130
Unless you plead, what I am asham’d to prompt
Your wisdom to?

_Lord._ What ’s that?

_Cel._ That you have play’d
The surgeon with yourself.

_Lord._ And am made eunuch?

_Cel._ It were much pity.

_Lord._ Trouble not yourself,
I could convince your fears with demonstration 135
That I am man enough, but knew not where,
Until this meeting, beauty dwelt. The court
You talk’d of must be where the Queen of Love is,
Which moves but with your person; in your eye
Her glory shines, and only at that flame 140
Her wanton boy doth light his quick’ning torch.

_Cel._ Nay, now you compliment; I would it did,
My lord, for your own sake.

_Lord._ You would be kind,
And love me then?

_Cel._ My lord, I should be loving,
Where I found worth to invite it, and should cherish 145
A constant man.

_Lord._ Then you should me, madam.

_Cel._ But is the ice about your heart fallen off?
Can you return to do what love commands?—
Cupid, thou shalt have instant sacrifice,
And I dare be the priest.

_Lord._ Your hand, your lip; [_Kisses her._] 150
Now I am proof ’gainst all temptation.

_Cel._ Your meaning, my good lord?

_Lord._ I, that have strength
Against thy voice and beauty, after this
May dare the charms of womankind.—Thou art,
Bella Maria, unprofaned yet; 155
This magic has no power upon my blood.—
Farewell, madam! if you durst be the example
Of chaste as well as fair, thou wert a brave one.

_Cel._ I hope your lordship means not this for earnest;
Be pleas’d to grace a banquet.

_Lord._ Pardon, madam.— 160
Will Scentlove, follow; I must laugh at you.

_Cel._ My lord, I must beseech you stay, for honour,
For her whose memory you love best.

_Lord._ Your pleasure.

_Cel._ And by that virtue you have now profest,
I charge you to believe me too; I can 165
Now glory that you have been worth my trial,
Which, I beseech you, pardon. Had not you
So valiantly recover’d in this conflict,
You had been my triumph, without hope of more
Than my just scorn upon your wanton flame;
Nor will I think these noble thoughts grew first 171
From melancholy, for some female loss,
As the fantastic world believes, but from
Truth, and your love of innocence, which shine
So bright in the two royal luminaries[4335] 175
At court, you cannot lose your way to chastity.
Proceed, and speak of me as honour guides you. _Exit_ LORD.
I am almost tir’d.—Come, ladies, we ’ll beguile
Dull time, and take the air another while. _Exeunt._