Chapter XXI: Act IV: Scene I

_A Street: before the Jeweller’s House, and the Court of
Law._

_Enter_ PRODITOR _and_ PHŒNIX.

PROD. Come hither, Phœnix.[890]
PHŒ. What makes your honour break so early?
PROD. A toy, I have a toy.[891]
PHŒ. A toy, my lord?
PROD. Before thou lay’st thy wrath upon the duke,
Be advis’d.
PHŒ. Ay, ay, I warrant you, my lord.
PROD. Nay, give my words honour; hear me.
I’ll strive to bring this act into such form
And credit amongst men, they shall suppose,
Nay, verily believe, the prince, his son,
To be the plotter of his father’s murder.
PHŒ. O that were infinitely admirable!
PROD. Were’t not? it pleaseth me beyond my bliss.
Then if his son meet death as he returns,
Or by my hired instruments turn up,
The general voice will cry, O happy vengeance!
PHŒ. O blessed vengeance!
PROD. Ay, I’ll turn my brain
Into a thousand uses, tire my inventions,
Make my blood sick with study, and mine eye
More hollow than my heart, but I will fashion,
Nay, I will fashion it. Canst counterfeit?
PHŒ. The prince’s hand most[892] truly, most direct;
You shall admire it.
PROD. Necessary mischief,
Next to a woman, but more close in secrets!
Thou’rt all the kindred that my breast vouchsafes.
Look into me anon: I must frame, and muse,
And fashion. [_Exit._
PHŒ. ’Twas time to look into thee, in whose heart
Treason grows ripe, and therefore fit to fall:
That slave first sinks whose envy threatens all.
Now is his venom at full height. [_Voices within._
FIRST VOICE. [_within_] Lying or being in the said
county, in the tenure and occupation aforesaid.
SECOND VOICE. [_within_] No more then; a writ of course
upon the matter of——
THIRD VOICE. [_within_] Silence!
FOURTH VOICE. [_within_] O-o-o-o-yes! Carlo Turbulenzo,
appear, or lose twenty mark in the suits.
PHŒ. Hah, whither have my thoughts conveyed me?
I am now
Within the dizzy murmur of the law.

FIRST VOICE. [_within_] So that then, the cause being
found clear, upon the last citation——
FOURTH VOICE. [_within_] Carlo Turbulenzo, come into the
court.

_Enter_ TANGLE _and two Suitors after him_.

TAN. Now, now, now, now, now, upon my knees I praise
Mercury, the god of law! I have two suits at issue, two
suits at issue.
FIRST SUIT. Do you hear, sir?
TAN. I will not hear; I’ve other business.
FIRST SUIT. I beseech you, my learned counsel——
TAN. Beseech not me, beseech not me; I am a mortal man,
a client as you are; beseech not me.
FIRST SUIT. I would do all by your worship’s direction.
TAN. Then hang thyself.
SECOND SUIT. Shall I take out a special _supplicavit_?
TAN. Mad me not, torment me not, tear me not; you’ll
give me leave to hear mine own cause, mine own cause.
FIRST VOICE. [_within_] Nay, moreover and farther——
TAN. Well said, my lawyer, well said, well said!
FIRST VOICE. [_within_] All the opprobrious speeches
that man could invent, all malicious invectives, called
wittol[893] to his face.
TAN. That’s I, that’s I: thank you, my learned counsel,
for your good remembrance. I hope I shall overthrow him
horse and foot.[894]
FIRST SUIT. Nay but, good sir——
TAN. No more, sir: he that brings me happy news first
I’ll relieve first.
BOTH SUIT. Sound executions rot thy cause and thee!
[_Exeunt._
TAN. Ay, ay, ay, pray so still, pray so still; they’ll
thrive the better.
PHŒ. I wonder how this fellow keeps out madness;
What stuff his brains are made on.
TAN. I suffer, I suffer, till I hear a judgment!
PHŒ. What, old signior?
TAN. Prithee, I will not know thee now; ’tis a busy
time, a busy time with me.
PHŒ. What, not me, signior?
TAN. O, cry thee mercy! give me thy hand—fare thee
well.—Has no relief again[895] me then; his demurs will
not help him; his sursurraras[896] will but play the
knaves with him.

_Enter_ FALSO.

PHŒ. The justice? ’tis he.
FAL. Have I found thee, i’faith? I thought where I
should smell thee out, old Tangle.
TAN. What, old signior justicer? embrace me another time
and[897] you can possible:—how do[898] all thy wife’s
children,—well? that’s well said, i’faith.
FAL. Hear me, old Tangle.
TAN. Prithee, do not ravish me; let me go.
FAL. I must use some of thy counsel first.
TAN. Sirrah, I ha’ brought him to an exigent: hark!
that’s my cause, that’s my cause yonder: I twinged him,
I twinged him.
FAL. My niece is stolen away.
TAN. Ah, get me a _ne exeat regno_ quickly! nay, you
must not stay upon’t; I’d fain have you gone.
FAL. A _ne exeat regno_? I’ll about it presently: adieu.
[_Exit._
PHŒ. You seek to catch her, justice; she’ll catch you.

_Re-enter_ FIRST SUITOR.

FIRST SUIT. A judgment, a judgment!
TAN. What, what, what?
FIRST SUIT. Overthrown, overthrown, overthrown!
TAN. Ha?—ah, ah!——

_Re-enter_ SECOND SUITOR.

SECOND SUIT. News, news, news!
TAN. The devil, the devil, the devil!
SECOND SUIT. Twice Tangle’s overthrown, twice Tangle’s
overthrown!
TAN. Hold!
PHŒ. Now, old cheater of the law——
TAN. Pray, give me leave to be mad.
PHŒ. Thou that hast found such sweet pleasure[899] in
the vexation of others——
TAN. May I not be mad in quiet?
PHŒ. Very marrow, very manna to thee to be in law——
TAN. Very syrup of toads and preserved adders!
PHŒ. Thou that hast vexed and beggared the whole parish,
and made the honest churchwardens go to law with the
poor’s money——
TAN. Hear me, do but hear me! I pronounce a terrible,
horrible curse upon you all, and wish you to my
attorney. See where a _præmunire_ comes, a _dedimus
potestatem_, and that most dreadful execution,
_excommunicato capiendo_! There’s no bail to be taken; I
shall rot in fifteen jails: make dice of my bones, and
let my counsellor’s son play away his father’s money
with ’em; may my bones revenge my quarrel! A _capias
cominus_? here, here, here, here; quickly dip your
quills in my blood, off with my skin, and write fourteen
lines of a side. There’s an honest conscionable fellow;
he takes but ten shillings of a bellows-mender: here’s
another deals all with charity; you shall give him
nothing, only his wife an embroidered petticoat, a gold
fringe for her tail, or a border for her head. Ah,
sirrah, you shall catch me no more in the springe of
your knaveries! [_Exit._
FIRST SUIT. Follow, follow him still; a little thing
now sets him forward. [_Exeunt_ SUITORS.
PHŒ. None can except against him; the man’s mad,
And privileg’d by the moon, if he say true:
Less madness ’tis to speak sin than to do.
This wretch, that lov’d before his food his strife,
This punishment falls even with his life.
His pleasure was vexation, all his bliss
The torment of another;
Their hurt[900] his health, their starved hopes his
store:
Who so loves law dies either mad or poor.

_Enter_ FIDELIO.

FID. A miracle, a miracle!
PHŒ. How now, Fidelio?
FID. My lord, a miracle!
PHŒ. What is’t?
FID. I have found
One quiet, suffering, and unlawyer’d man;
An opposite, a very contrary
To the old turbulent fellow.
PHŒ. Why, he’s mad.
FID. Mad? why, he is in his right wits: could he be
madder than he was? if he be any way altered from what
he was, ’tis for the better, my lord.
PHŒ. Well, but where’s this wonder?
FID. ’Tis coming,[901] my lord: a man so truly a man, so
indifferently a creature, using the world in his right
nature but to tread upon; one that would not bruise the
cowardliest enemy to man, the worm, that dares not shew
his malice till we are dead: nay, my lord, you will
admire his temper: see where he comes.

_Enter_ QUIETO.

I promis’d your acquaintance, sir: yon is
The gentleman I did commend for temper.
QUI. Let me embrace you simply,
That’s perfectly, and more in heart than hand:
Let affectation keep at court.
PHŒ. Ay, let it.
QUI. ’Tis told me you love quiet.
PHŒ. Above wealth.
QUI. I above life: I have been wild and rash,
Committed many and unnatural crimes,
Which I have since repented.
PHŒ. ’Twas well spent.
QUI. I was mad, stark mad, nine years together.
PHŒ. I pray, as how?
QUI. Going to law, i’faith, it made me mad.
PHŒ. With the like frenzy, not an hour since,
An aged man was struck.
QUI. Alas, I pity him!
PHŒ. He’s not worth pitying, for ’twas still his
gladness
To be at variance.
QUI. Yet a man’s worth pity:
My quiet blood has blest me with this gift:
I have cur’d some; and if his wits be not
Too deeply cut, I will assay to help ’em.
PHŒ. Sufferance does teach you pity.

_Enter_ BOY.

BOY. O master, master! your abominable next neighbour
came into the house, being half in drink, and took away
your best carpet.[902]
QUI. Has he it?
BOY. Alas, sir!
QUI. Let him go; trouble him not: lock the door quietly
after him, and have a safer care who comes in next.
PHŒ. But, sir, might I advise you, in such a cause as
this a man might boldly, nay, with conscience, go to
law.
QUI. O, I’ll give him the table too first! Better endure
a fist than a sharp sword: I had rather they should pull
off my clothes than flay off my skin, and hang that on
mine enemy’s hedge.
PHŒ. Why,
For such good causes was the law ordain’d.
QUI. True,
And in itself ’tis glorious and divine;
Law is the very masterpiece of heaven:
But see yonder,
There’s many clouds between the sun and us;
There’s too much cloth before we see the law.
PHŒ. I’m content with that answer; be mild still:
’Tis honour to forgive those you could kill.
QUI. There do I keep.
PHŒ. Reach me your hand: I love you,
And you shall know me better.
QUI. ’Tis my suit.
PHŒ. The night grows deep, and——

_Enter two Officers._

FIRST OFF. Come away, this way, this way.
PHŒ. Who be those? stand close a little.

[_As they retire_, PHŒNIX _happens to jar the ring
of the Jeweller’s door; the Maid enters from the
house and catches hold of him_.

MAID. O, you’re come as well as e’er you came in your
life! my master’s new gone to bed. Give me your knightly
hand: I must lead you into the blind parlour; my
mistress will be down to you presently.
[_Takes in_ PHŒNIX.
FIRST OFF. I tell you our safest course will be to
arrest him when he comes out a’ th’ tavern, for then he
will be half drunk, and will not stand upon his weapon.
SECOND OFF. Our safest course indeed, for he will draw.
FIRST OFF. That he will, though he put it up again,
which is more of his courtesy than of our deserving.
[_Exeunt Officers._
QUI. The world is nothing but vexation,
Spite, and uncharitable action.
FID. Did you see the gentleman?
QUI. Not I.
FID. Where should he be? it may be he’s past by:
Good sir, let’s overtake him. [_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

_A Room in the Jeweller’s House._

_Enter_ PHŒNIX _and Maid_.

MAID. Here, sir: now you are there, sir, she’ll come
down to you instantly. I must not stay with you; my
mistress would be jealous: you must do nothing to me; my
mistress would find it quickly. [_Exit._
PHŒ. ’S foot, whither am I led? brought in by th’ hand?
I hope it can be no harm to stay for a woman, though
indeed they were never more dangerous: I have ventured
hitherto and safe, and I must venture to stay now. This
should be a fair room, but I see it not: the blind
parlour calls she it?

_Enter_ JEWELLER’S WIFE.

JEW. WIFE. Where art thou, O my knight?
PHŒ. Your knight? I am the duke’s knight.
JEW. WIFE. I say you’re my knight, for I’m sure I paid
for you.
PHŒ. Paid for you?—hum.—’S foot, a light!
[_Snatches in a light, and then extinguishes it._
JEW. WIFE. Now out upon the marmoset![903] Hast thou
served me so long, and offer to bring in a candle?
PHŒ. Fair room, villanous face, and worse woman! I ha’
learnt something by a glimpse a’ th’ candle.
[_Aside._
JEW. WIFE. How happened it you came so soon? I looked
not for you these two hours; yet, as the sweet chance
is, you came as well as a thing could come, for my
husband’s newly brought a-bed.
PHŒ. And what has Jove sent him?
JEW. WIFE. He ne’er sent him any thing since I knew him:
he’s a man of a bad nature to his wife; none but his
maids can thrive under him.
PHŒ. Out upon him!
JEW. WIFE. Ay, judge whether I have a cause to be a
courtesan or no? to do as I do? An elderly fellow as he
is, if he were married to a young virgin, he were able
to break her heart, though he could break nothing else.
Here, here; there’s just a hundred and fifty [_giving
money_]; but I stole ’em so hardly from him, ’twould
e’en have grieved you to have seen it.
PHŒ. So ’twould, i’faith.
JEW. WIFE. Therefore, prithee, my sweet Pleasure, do not
keep company so much. How do you think I am able to
maintain you? Though I be a jeweller’s wife, jewels are
like women, they rise and fall; we must be content to
lose sometimes, to gain often; but you’re content always
to lose, and never to gain. What need you ride with a
footman before you?
PHŒ. O, that’s the grace!
JEW. WIFE. The grace? ’tis sufficient grace that you’ve
a horse to ride upon. You should think thus with
yourself every time you go to bed,—if my head were laid,
what would become of that horse? he would run a bad race
then, as well as his master.
PHŒ. Nay, and[904] you give me money to chide me——
JEW. WIFE. No, if it were as much more, I would think it
foul scorn to chide you. I advise you to be thrifty, to
take the time now, while you have it: you shall seldom
get such another fool as I am, I warrant you. Why,
there’s Metreza[905] Auriola keeps her love with half
the cost that I am at: her friend can go a’ foot like a
good husband, walk in worsted stockings, and inquire for
the sixpenny ordinary.[906]
PHŒ. Pox on’t, and would you have me so base?
JEW. WIFE. No, I would not have you so base neither: but
now and then, when you keep your chamber, you might let
your footman out for eighteenpence a-day; a great relief
at year’s end, I can tell you.
PHŒ. The age must needs be foul when vice reforms it.
[_Aside._
JEW. WIFE. Nay, I’ve a greater quarrel to you yet.
PHŒ. I’faith, what is’t?
JEW. WIFE. You made me believe at first the prince had
you in great estimation, and would not offer to travel
without you, nay, that he could not travel without your
direction and intelligence.
PHŒ. I’m sorry I said so, i’faith; but sure I was
overflown[907] when I spoke it, I could ne’er ha’ said
it else.
JEW. WIFE. Nay more; you swore to me that you were the
first that taught him to ride a great horse, and
tread[908] the ring with agility.
PHŒ. By my troth, I must needs confess I swore a great
lie in that, and I was a villain to do it, for I could
ne’er ride great horse in my life.
JEW. WIFE. Why, lo, who would love you now but a
citizen’s wife? so inconstant, so forsworn! You
say women are false creatures; but, take away men,
and they’d be honester than you. Nay, last of all,
which offends me most of all, you told me you could
countenance me at court; and you know we esteem a friend
there more worth than a husband here.
PHŒ. What I spake of that, lady, I’ll maintain.
JEW. WIFE. You maintain? you seen at court?
PHŒ. Why, by this diamond——
JEW. WIFE. O, take heed! you cannot have that; ’tis
always in the eye of my husband.
PHŒ. I protest I will not keep it, but only use it for
this virtue, as a token to fetch you, and approve[909]
my power, where you shall not only be received, but made
known to the best and chiefest.
JEW. WIFE. O, are you true?
PHŒ. Let me lose my revenue[910] else.
JEW. WIFE. That’s your word, indeed! and upon that
condition take it, this kiss, and my love for ever.
[_Giving the diamond._
PHŒ. Enough.
JEW. WIFE. Give me thy hand, I’ll lead thee forth.
PHŒ. I’m sick of all professions; my thoughts burn:
He travels best that knows when to return. [_Aside._
[_Exeunt._

SCENE III.

_A Street: before the Jeweller’s House._

_Enter_ KNIGHT, _two Officers watching for him_.

KNIGHT. Adieu, farewell;[911] to bed you; I to my sweet
city-bird, my precious Revenue: the very thought of a
hundred and fifty angels[912] increases oil and spirit,
ho!
FIRST OFF. I arrest you. sir.
KNIGHT. O!
FIRST OFF. You have made us wait a goodly time for you,
have you not, think you? You are in your rouses[913] and
mullwines,[914] a pox on you! and have no care of poor
officers staying for you.

KNIGHT. I drunk but one health, I protest; but I could
void it now. At whose suit, I pray?
FIRST OFF. At the suit of him that makes suits, your
tailor.
KNIGHT. Why, he made me the last; this, this that I
wear.
FIRST OFF. Argo,[915]—nay, we have been scholars, I can
tell you,—we could not have been knaves so soon else;
for as in that notable city called London stand two most
famous universities, Poultry and Wood-street,[916] where
some are of twenty years’ standing, and have took all
their degrees, from the Master’s side down to the
Mistress’ side, the Hole,[917] so in like manner——
KNIGHT. Come, come, come, I had quite forgot the hundred
and fifty angels.
SECOND OFF. ’Slid, where be they?
KNIGHT. I’ll bring you to the sight of’em presently.
FIRST OFF. A notable lad, and worthy to be arrested!
We’ll have but ten for waiting; and then thou shalt
choose whether thou wilt run away from us, or we from
thee.
KNIGHT. A match at running! come, come, follow me.
SECOND OFF. Nay, fear not that.
KNIGHT. Peace; you may happen to see toys,[918] but do
not see ’em.
FIRST OFF. Pah!
KNIGHT. That’s the door.
FIRST OFF. This? [_Knocks._
KNIGHT. ’S foot, officer, you have spoiled all already.
FIRST OFF. Why?
KNIGHT. Why? you shall see: you should have but whirled
the ring once about, and there’s a maidservant brought
up to understand it.
MAID. [_opening the door_] Who’s at door?
KNIGHT. All’s well again.—Phist, ’tis I, ’tis I.
MAID. You? what are you?
KNIGHT. Pooh! where’s thy mistress?
MAID. What of her?
KNIGHT. Tell her one—she knows who—her Pleasure’s here,
say.
MAID. Her pleasure? my mistress scorns to be without her
pleasure at this time of night. Is she so void of
friends, think you? take that for thinking so.
_Gives him a box on the ear, and shuts the door._
FIRST OFF. The hundred and fifty angels are locked up in
a box; we shall not see ’em tonight.
KNIGHT. How’s this? am I used like a hundred-pound
gentleman? does my Revenue forsake me? Damn me, if ever
I be her Pleasure again!—Well, I must to prison.
FIRST OFF. Go prepare his room; there’s no remedy: I’ll
bring him along; he’s tame enough now. [_Exit Second
Officer._

KNIGHT. Dare my tailor presume to use me in this sort?
He steals, and I must lie in prison for’t.
FIRST OFF. Come, come, away, sir!

_Enter a Gentleman and a Drawer._

GENT. Art sure thou sawest him arrested, drawer?
DRA. If mine eyes be sober.
GENT. And that’s a question. Mass, here he goes! he
shall not go to prison; I have a trick shall bail him:
away! [_Exit Drawer._
[_Blinds the First Officer, while the_ KNIGHT _escapes_.
FIRST OFF. O!
GENT. Guess, guess! who am I? who am I?
FIRST OFF. Who the devil are you? let go: a pox on you!
who are you? I have lost my prisoner.
GENT. Prisoner? I’ve mistook; I cry you heartily mercy;
I have done you infinite injury; a’ my troth, I took you
to be an honest man.
FIRST OFF. Where were your eyes? could you not see I was
an officer?—Stop, stop, stop, stop!
GENT. Ha, ha, ha, ha! [_Exeunt severally._