Chapter LXXV: Act II: Scene I.2684

_Enter_ MENDOZA, _with a sconce,[2685] to observe_ FERNEZE’S _entrance, who, whilst the act is playing, enters unbraced, two_ Pages _before him with lights_; _is met by_ MAQUERELLE _and convey’d in_; _the_ Pages _are sent away_.

_Men._ He’s caught, the woodcock’s head is i’ th’ noose.
Now treads Ferneze in dangerous path of lust,
Swearing his sense is merely[2686] deified:
The fool grasps clouds, and shall beget Centaurs:
And now, in strength of panting faint delight, 5
The goat bids heaven envy him.—Good goose,
I can afford thee nothing
But the poor comfort of calamity, pity.
Lust ’s like the plummets hanging on clock-lines,
Will ne’er ha’ done till all is quite undone; 10
Such is the course salt sallow lust doth run;
Which thou shalt try. I’ll be reveng’d. Duke, thy suspect;
Duchess, thy disgrace; Ferneze, thy rivalship;
Shall have swift vengeance. Nothing so holy,
No band of nature so strong, 15
No law of friendship so sacred,
But I’ll profane, burst, violate, ’fore I’ll
Endure disgrace, contempt, and poverty.
Shall I, whose very “Hum” struck all heads bare,
Whose face made silence, creaking of whose shoe 20
Forc’d the most private passages fly ope,
Scrape like a servile dog at some latch’d door?
Learn how to make a leg, and cry “Beseech ye,
Pray ye, is such a lord within?” be aw’d
At some odd usher’s scoff’d formality? 25
First sear my brains! _Unde cadis non quo, refert_;[2687]
My heart cries, “Perish all!” How! how! what fate
Can once avoid revenge, that’s desperate? 28
I ’ll to the duke; if all should ope—If! tush.
Fortune still dotes on those who cannot blush.
[_Exit._]

SCENE II.[2688]

_Enter_ MALEVOLE _at one door_; BIANCA, EMILIA, _and_ MAQUERELLE _at the other door_.

_Mal._ Bless ye, cast[2689] o’ ladies!—Ha, Dipsas! how dost thou,
old coal?

_Maq._ Old coal!

_Mal._ Ay, old coal; methinks thou liest like a brand under these
billets of green wood. He (5) that will inflame a young wench’s
heart, let him lay close to her an old coal that hath first been
fir’d, a panderess, my half-burnt lint, who though thou canst not
flame thyself, yet art able to set a thousand virgin’s tapers
afire.—And (10) how does Janivere thy husband, my little periwinkle?
Is he troubled with the cough o’ the lungs still? Does he hawk o’
nights still? He will not bite.

_Bian._ No, by my troth. I took him with (15) his mouth empty of old
teeth.

_Mal._ And he took thee with thy belly full of young bones: marry, he
took his maim by the stroke of his enemy. 19

_Bian._ And I mine by the stroke of my friend.

_Mal._ The close stock![2690] O mortal wench! Lady, ha’ ye now no
restoratives for your decayed Jasons? Look ye, crab’s guts bak’d,
distill’d ox-pith, the pulverized hairs of a lion’s upper-lip,
jelly of cock-sparrows, he-monkey’s (25) marrow, or powder of
fox-stones?—And whither are all you ambling now?

_Bian._ Why, to bed, to bed.

_Mal._ Do your husbands lie with ye?

_Bian._ That were country fashion, i’ faith. 30

_Mal._ Ha’ ye no foregoers about you? Come, whither in good deed, la’
now?

_Maq._ In good indeed, la now, to eat the most miraculously,
admirably, astonishable compos’d posset with three curds, without any
drink. (35) Will ye help me with a he-fox?—Here’s the duke. _Exeunt_
Ladies.

[_Mal._ Fri’d frogs are very good, and French-like too.][2691]

SCENE III.[2692]

_Enter_ DUKE PIETRO, COUNT CELSO, COUNT EQUATO, BILIOSO, FERRARDO, _and_ MENDOZA.

_Pietro._ The night grows deep and foul: what hour is ’t?

_Celso._ Upon the stroke of twelve.

_Mal._ Save ye, Duke!

_Pietro._ From thee: begone, I do not love (5) thee! Let me see thee
no more; we are displeas’d.

_Mal._ Why, God b’ wi’ thee! Heaven hear my curse,—may thy wife and
thee live long together! 10

_Pietro._ Begone, sirrah!

_Mal._ “When Arthur first in court began,”—Agamemnon—Menelaus—was
ever any duke a cornuto?

_Pietro._ Begone, hence! 15

_Mal._ What religion wilt thou be of next?

_Men._ Out with him!

_Mal._ With most servile patience.—Time will come
When wonder of thy error will strike dumb
Thy bezzled[2693] senses.— 20
Slaves! ay, favour: ay, marry, shall he rise:
Good God! how subtle hell doth flatter vice!
Mounts him aloft, and makes him seem to fly,
As fowl the tortoise mock’d, who to the sky
The ambitious shell-fish rais’d! The end of all
Is only, that from height he might dead fall. 26

[[2694]_Bil._ Why, when? Out, ye rogue! begone, ye rascal!

_Mal._ I shall now leave ye with all my best wishes. 30

_Bil._ Out, ye cur!

_Mal._ Only let’s hold together a firm correspondence.

_Bil._ Out!

_Mal._ A mutual-friendly-reciprocal-perpetual kind of
steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued— 36

_Bil._ Hence, ye gross-jaw’d, peasantly—out, go!

_Mal._ Adieu, pigeon-house; thou burr, that only stickest to
nappy fortunes. The serpigo,[2695] (40) the strangury, an eternal
uneffectual priapism seize thee!

_Bil._ Out, rogue!

_Mal._ May’st thou be a notorious wittolly pander to thine own wife,
and yet get no office, (46) but live to be the utmost misery of
mankind, a beggarly cuckold!] _Exit._

_Pietro._ It shall be so.

_Men._ It must be so, for where great states revenge,
’T is requisite the parts be closely dogg’d, 50
(Which piety and soft respect forbears).[2696]
Lay one into his breast shall sleep with him,
Feed in the same dish, run in self-faction,
Who may discover any shape of danger;
For once disgrac’d, displayed in offence, 55
It makes man blushless, and man is (all confess)
More prone to vengeance than to gratefulness.
Favours are writ in dust; but stripes we feel.
Depraved nature stamps in lasting steel.

_Pietro._ You shall be leagu’d with the duchess.

_Equato._ The plot is very good. 61

_Men._ You shall both kill, and seem the corse to save.

_Fer._ A most fine brain-trick.

_Celso._ (_Aside._) Of a most cunning knave. 64

_Pietro._ My lords, the heavy action we intend
Is death and shame, two of the ugliest shapes
That can confound a soul; think, think of it.
I strike, but yet, like him that ’gainst stone walls
Directs, his shafts rebound in his own face;
My lady’s shame is mine, O God, ’t is mine! 70
Therefore I do conjure all secrecy:
Let it be as very little as may be,
Pray ye, as may be,
Make frightless entrance, salute her with soft eyes,
Stain nought with blood; only Ferneze dies, 75
But not before her brows. O gentlemen,
God knows I love her! Nothing else, but this:—I
am not well: if grief, that sucks veins dry,
Rivels[2697] the skin, casts ashes in men’s faces,
Be-dulls the eye, unstrengthens all the blood, 80
Chance to remove me to another world,
As sure I once must die, let him succeed:
I have no child; all that my youth begot
Hath been your loves, which shall inherit me:
Which as it ever shall, I do conjure it, 85
Mendoza may succeed: he’s nobly born;
With me of much desert.

_Celso._ (_Aside._) Much!

_Pietro._ Your silence answers, “Ay.”
I thank you. Come on now. O, that I might die 90
Before her shame ’s display’d! Would I were forc’d
To burn my father’s tomb, unheal[2698] his bones,
And dash them in the dirt, rather than this!
This both the living and the dead offends: 94
Sharp surgery where naught but death amends.
_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.[2699]

_Enter_ MAQUERELLE, EMILIA, _and_ BIANCA _with a posset_.

_Maq._ Even here it is, three curds in three regions individually
distinct, most methodically according to art compos’d, without any
drink.

_Bian._ Without any drink! 4

_Maq._ Upon my honour. Will ye sit and eat?

_Emil._ Good; the composure, the receipt, how is ’t?

_Maq._ ’T is a pretty pearl; by this pearl (how does’t with
me?[2700]) thus it is: Seven and thirty yolks of Barbary hens’ eggs;
eighteen spoonfuls (10) and a half of the juice of cock-sparrow
bones; one ounce, three drams, four scruples, and one quarter of the
syrup of Ethiopian dates; sweetened with three quarters of a pound of
pure candied Indian eringoes; strewed (15) over with the powder of
pearl of America, amber of Cataia, and lamb-stones of Muscovia.

_Bian._ Trust me, the ingredients are very cordial, and, no question,
good, and most powerful in restoration. 20

_Maq._ I know not what you mean by restoration; but this it doth,—it
purifieth the blood, smootheth the skin, enliveneth the eye,
strengtheneth the veins, mundifieth[2701] the teeth, comforteth the
stomach, fortifieth the back, (25) and quickeneth the wit; that’s all.

_Emil._ By my troth, I have eaten but two spoonfuls, and methinks I
could discourse most swiftly and wittily already.

_Maq._ Have you the art to seem honest? 30

_Bian._ Ay, thank advice and practice.

_Maq._ Why, then, eat me o’ this posset, quicken your blood, and
preserve your beauty. Do you know Doctor Plaster-face? by this curd,
he is the most exquisite in forging of veins, (35) sprightening
of eyes, dying of hair, sleeking of skins, blushing of cheeks,
surphling[2702] of breasts, blanching and bleaching of teeth, that
ever made an old lady gracious by torchlight; by this curd, la. 40

_Bian._ Well, we are resolved, what God has given us we’ll cherish.

_Maq._ Cherish anything saving your husband; keep him not too high,
lest he leap the pale: but, for your beauty, let it be your saint; 45
bequeath two hours to it every morning in your closet. I ha’
been young, and yet, in my conscience, I am not above five and
twenty: but, believe me, preserve and use your beauty; for youth
and beauty once gone, we are like beehives (50) without honey,
out-o’-fashion apparel that no man will wear: therefore use me your
beauty.

_Emil._ Ay, but men say—

_Maq._ Men say! let men say what they (55) will: life o’ woman! they
are ignorant of our wants. The more in years, the more in perfection
they grow; if they lose youth and beauty, they gain wisdom and
discretion: but when our beauty fades, good-night with us. There 60
cannot be an uglier thing than to see an old woman: from which, O
pruning, pinching, and painting, deliver all sweet beauties! [_Music
within._]

_Bian._ Hark! music! 64

_Maq._ Peace, ’tis i’ the duchess’ bed-chamber. Good rest, most
prosperously-graced ladies.

_Emil._ Good night, sentinel.

_Bian._ Night, dear Maquerelle.
_Exeunt all but_ MAQ.

_Maq._ May my posset’s operation send you my wit and honesty; and me,
your youth and (70) beauty; the pleasing’st rest! _Exit._

SCENE V.[2703]

_A Song_ [_within_].

_Whilst the song is singing, enter_ MENDOZA _with his sword drawn, standing ready to murder_ FERNEZE _as he flies from the_ duchess’ _chamber.—Tumult within._

_All_ [_within._] Strike, strike!

_Aur._ [_within._] Save my Ferneze! O, save my Ferneze!

_Enter_ FERNEZE _in his shirt, and is receiv’d upon_ MENDOZA’S _sword_.

_All_ [_within._] Follow, pursue!

_Aur._ [_within._] O, save Ferneze!

_Men._ Pierce, pierce!—Thou shallow fool, drop there!
He that attempts a princess’ lawless love 5
Must have broad hands, close heart, with Argus’ eyes,
And back of Hercules, or else he dies.
_Thrusts his rapier in_ FER.

_Enter_ AURELIA, PIETRO, FERRARDO, BILIOSO, CELSO, _and_ EQUATO.

_All._ Follow, follow!

_Men._ Stand off, forbear, ye most uncivil lords!

_Pietro._ Strike!

_Men._ Do not; tempt not a man resolv’d: 10

MENDOZA _bestrides the wounded body of_ FERNEZE, _and seems to save him._

Would you, inhuman murderers, more than death?

_Aur._ O poor Ferneze!

_Men._ Alas, now all defence too late!

_Aur._ He’s dead.

_Pietro._ I am sorry for our shame.—Go to your bed: 15
Weep not too much, but leave some tears to shed
When I am dead.

_Aur._ What, weep for thee! my soul no tears shall find.

_Pietro._ Alas, alas, that women’s souls are blind!

_Men._ Betray such beauty! 20
Murder such youth! Contemn civility!
He loves him not that rails not at him.

_Pietro._ Thou canst not move us: we have blood enough.—
And please you, lady, we have quite forgot
All your defects: if not, why, then— 25

_Aur._ Not.

_Pietro._ Not: the best of rest: good-night.
_Exit_ PIETRO, _with other_ Courtiers.

_Aur._ Despite go with thee!

_Men._ Madam, you ha’ done me foul disgrace; you have wrong’d him
much loves you too much: go to, your soul knows you have. 31

_Aur._ I think I have.

_Men._ Do you but think so?

_Aur._ Nay, sure, I have: my eyes have witnessed thy love: thou hast
stood too firm for me. 36

_Men._ Why, tell me, fair-cheekt lady, who even in tears art
powerfully beauteous, what unadvised passion struck ye into such a
violent heat against me? Speak, what mischief (40) wrong’d us? What
devil injur’d us? Speak.

_Aur._ The thing ne’er worthy of the name of man, Ferneze;
Ferneze swore thou lov’st Emilia;
Which to advance, with most reproachful breath 45
Thou both didst blemish and denounce my love.

_Men._ Ignoble villain! did I for this bestride
Thy wounded limbs? for this, rank opposite
Even to my sovereign? for this, O God, for this, 49
Sunk all my hopes, and with my hopes my life?
Ripp’d bare my throat unto the hangman’s axe?——
Thou most dishonour’d trunk!—Emilia!
By life, I know her not—Emilia—!
Did you believe him?

_Aur._ Pardon me, I did.

_Men._ Did you? And thereupon you graced him? 55

_Aur._ I did.

_Men._ Took him to favour, nay even clasp’d
With him?

_Aur._ Alas, I did!

_Men._ This night?

_Aur._ This night.

_Men._ And in your lustful twines the duke took you?

_Aur._ A most sad truth.

_Men._ O God, O God! how we dull honest souls, 60
Heavy brain’d men, are swallowed in the bogs
Of a deceitful ground, whilst nimble bloods,
Light-jointed spirits, speed;[2704] cut good men’s throats,
And scape! Alas, I am too honest for this age,
Too full of phlegm and heavy steadiness; 65
Stood still whilst this slave cast a noose about me;
Nay, then to stand in honour of him and her,
Who had even slic’d my heart!

_Aur._ Come, I did err,
And am most sorry I did err.

_Men._ Why, we are both but dead: the duke hates us; 70
And those whom princes do once groundly[2705] hate,
Let them provide to die, as sure as fate.
Prevention is the heart of policy.

_Aur._ Shall we murder him?

_Men._ Instantly? 75

_Aur._ Instantly; before he casts a plot,
Or further blaze my honour’s much-known blot.
Let’s murder him.

_Men._ I would do much for you: will ye marry me?

_Aur._ I’ll make thee duke. We are of Medicis; 80
Florence our friend; in court my faction
Not meanly strengthful; the duke then dead;
We well prepar’d for change; the multitude
Irresolutely reeling; we in force;
Our party seconded; the kingdom maz’d; 85
No doubt of[2706] swift success all shall be grac’d.

_Men._ You do confirm me, we are resolute:
To-morrow look for change: rest confident.
’T is now about the immodest waist of night:
The mother of moist dew with pallid light 90
Spreads gloomy shades about the numbed earth.
Sleep, sleep, whilst we contrive our mischief’s birth.
This man I’ll get inhum’d. Farewell: to bed;
Ay, kiss thy pillow, dream the duke is dead.
So, so, good night. _Exit_ AURELIA.
How fortune dotes on impudence! 95
I am in private the adopted son
Of yon good prince:
I must be duke: why, if I must, I must.
Most silly lord, name me! O heaven! I see
God made honest fools to maintain crafty knaves. 100
The duchess is wholly mine too; must kill her husband
To quit her shame. Much! then marry her! Ay.
O, I grow proud in prosperous treachery!
As wrestlers clip, so I’ll embrace you all,
Not to support, but to procure your fall. 105

_Enter_ MALEVOLE.

_Mal._ God arrest thee!

_Men._ At whose suit?

_Mal._ At the devil’s. Ah, you treacherous, damnable monster, how
dost? how dost, thou treacherous rogue? Ah, ye rascal! I am banished
(110) the court, sirrah.

_Men._ Prithee, let’s be acquainted; I do love thee, faith.

_Mal._ At your service, by the Lord, la: shall’s go to supper?
Let’s be once drunk together, (115) and so unite a most
virtuously-strength’ned friendship: shall ’s Huguenot? shall ’s?

_Men._ Wilt fall upon my chamber to-morrow morn?

_Mal._ As a raven to a dunghill. They say (120) there’s one dead
here: prickt for the pride of the flesh.

_Men._ Ferneze; there he is; prithee, bury him.

_Mal._ O, most willingly: I mean to turn pure Roehelle churchman,
I.[2707] 125

_Men._ Thou churchman! Why, why?

_Mal._ Because I’ll live lazily, rail upon authority, deny kings’
supremacy in things indifferent, and be a pope in mine own parish.

_Men._ Wherefore dost thou think churches were made? 131

_Mal._ To scour plough-shares: I ha’ seen oxen plough up altars; _et
nunc seges ubi Sion fuit_.[2708]

_Men._ Strange! 134

_Mal._ Nay, monstrous! I ha’ seen a sumptuous steeple turned to
a stinking privy; more beastly, the sacredest place made a dogs’
kennel; nay, most inhuman, the stoned coffins of long-dead Christians
burst up, and made hogs’ troughs: _hic finis Priami_[2709] Shall
I ha’ some (140) sack and cheese at thy chamber? Good night, good
mischievous incarnate devil; good night. Mendoza; ah, ye inhuman
villain, good night! night, fuh.[2710] 144

_Men._ Goodnight: to-morrow morn? _Exit._

_Mal._ Ay, I will come, friendly damnation, I will come. I do descry
cross-points; honesty and courtship straddle as far asunder as a true
Frenchman’s legs.

_Fer._ O! 150

_Mal._ Proclamations! more proclamations!

_Fer._ O! a surgeon!

_Mal._ Hark! lust cries for a surgeon. What news from Limbo? How does
the grand cuckold, Lucifer? 155

_Fer._ O, help, help! conceal and save me.
FERNEZE _stirs, and_ MALEVOLE _helps him up and conveys him away_.

_Mal._ Thy shame more than thy wounds do grieve me far:
Thy wounds but leave upon thy flesh some scar;
But fame ne’er heals, still rankles worse and worse;
Such is of uncontrolled lust the curse. 160
Think what it is in lawless sheets to lie;
But, O, Ferneze, what in lust to die!
Then thou that shame respect’st, O, fly converse
With women’s eyes and lisping wantonness! 164
Stick candles ’gainst a virgin wall’s white back,
If they not burn, yet at the least they’ll black.
Come, I’ll convey thee to a private port,
Where thou shalt live (O happy man!) from court.
The beauty of the day begins to rise,
From whose bright form night’s heavy shadow flies. 170
Now ’gin close plots to work; the scene grows full,
And craves his eyes who hath a solid skull. _Exeunt._