Chapter XXVII: Act V: Scene I

_A Room in_ RUSSELL’S _House_.

_Enter Physician, and_ JANE _dressed as a bride_.

PHY. Will you be obstinate?
JANE. Torment me not,
Thou lingering executioner to death,
Greatest disease to nature, that striv’st by art
To make men long a-dying! your practice is
Upon men’s bodies; as men pull roses
For their own relish, but to kill the flower,
So you maintain your lives by others’ deaths:
What eat you then but[834] carrion?
PHY. Fie, bitterness!
Ye’d need to candy o’er your tongue a little,
Your words will hardly be digested else.
JANE. You can give yourself a vomit to return 'em,
If they offend your stomach.
PHY. Hear my vow;
You are[835] to be married to-day——
JANE. A second torment,
Worse than the first, 'cause unavoidable!
I would I could as soon annihilate
My father’s will in that as forbid thy lust!
PHY. If you then tender an unwilling hand,
Meet it with revenge, marry a cuckold.
JANE. If thou wilt marry me, I’ll make that vow,
And give my body for satisfaction
To him that should enjoy me for his wife.
PHY. Go to; I’ll mar your marriage.
JANE. Do; plague me so:
I’ll rather bear the brand of all that’s past,
In capital characters upon my brow,
Than think to be thy whore or marry him.
PHY. I will defame thee ever——
JANE. Spare me not.
PHY. I will produce thy bastard,
Bring thee to public penance——
JANE. No matter, I care not;
I shall then have a clean sheet; I’ll wear twenty,
Rather than one defil’d with thee.
PHY. Look for revenge!
JANE. Pursue it fully then.—Out of his hate
I shall escape,[836] I hope, a loathed fate.
[_Aside, and exit._
PHY. Am I rejected, all my baits nibbled off,
And not the fish caught? I’ll trouble the whole stream,
And choke it in the mud: since hooks not take,
I’ll throw in nets that shall or kill or break.

_Enter_ TRIMTRAM _with rosemary_.[837]

This is the bridegroom’s man.—Hark, sir, a word.
TRIM. ’Tis a busy day, sir, nor I need no physic;
You see I scour about my business.
PHY. Pray you, a word, sir: your master is to be married
to-day?
TRIM. Else all this rosemary’s lost.
PHY. I would speak with your master, sir.
TRIM. My master, sir, is to be married this morning, and
cannot be within while[838] soon at night.
PHY. If you will do your master the best service
That e’er you did him; if he shall not curse
Your negligence hereafter slacking it;
If he shall bless me for the dearest friend
That ever his acquaintance met withal;
Let me speak with him ere he go to church.
TRIM. A right physician! you would have none go to the
church nor churchyard till you send them thither: well,
if death do not spare you yourselves, he deals hardly
with you, for you are better benefactors and send more
to him than all diseases besides.

CHOUGH [_within_]. What, Trimtram, Trimtram!
TRIM. I come, sir.—Hark you, you may hear him! he’s upon
the spur, and would fain mount the saddle of matrimony;
but, if I can, I’ll persuade him to come to you.
PHY. Pray you, do, sir. [_Exit_ TRIMTRAM.]—I’ll teach
all peevish niceness[839]
To beware the strong advantage of revenge.

_Enter_ CHOUGH.

CHOUGH. Who’s that would speak with me?
PHY. None but a friend, sir; I would speak with you.
CHOUGH. Why, sir, and I dare speak with any man under
the universe. Can you roar, sir?
PHY. No, in faith, sir;
I come to tell you mildly for your good,
If you please to hear me: you are upon marriage?
CHOUGH. No, sir; I am towards it, but not upon it yet.
PHY. Do you know what you do?
CHOUGH. Yes, sir, I have practised what to do before
now; I would be ashamed to be married else: I have seen
a bronstrops in my time, and a hippocrene, and a tweak
too.
PHY. Take fair heed, sir; the wife that you would marry
Is not fit for you.
CHOUGH. Why, sir, have you tried her?
PHY. Not I, believe it, sir; but believe withal
She has been tried.
CHOUGH. Why, sir, is she a fructifer or a fucus?
PHY. All that I speak, sir, is in love to you:
Your bride, that may be, has not that portion
That a bride should have.
CHOUGH. Why, sir, she has a thousand and a better penny.
PHY. I do not speak of rubbish, dross, and ore,
But the refinèd metal, honour, sir.
CHOUGH. What she wants in honour shall be made
up in worship, sir; money will purchase both.
PHY. To be plain with you, she’s naught.
CHOUGH. If thou canst not roar, thou’rt a dead man! my
bride naught? [_Drawing his sword._
PHY. Sir, I do not fear you that way; what I speak
[_Drawing his sword._

My life shall maintain; I say she is naught.
CHOUGH. Dost thou not fear me?
PHY. Indeed I do not, sir.
CHOUGH. I’ll never draw upon thee while I live for that
trick; put up and speak freely.
PHY. Your intended bride is a whore; that’s freely, sir.
CHOUGH. Yes, faith, a whore’s free enough, and[840] she
hath a conscience: is she a whore? foot, I warrant she
has the pox then.
PHY. Worse, the plague; ’tis more incurable.
CHOUGH. A plaguy whore? a pox on her, I’ll none of
her!
PHY. Mine accusation shall have firm evidence;
I will produce an unavoided witness,
A bastard of her bearing.
CHOUGH. A bastard? ’snails, there’s great suspicion
she’s a whore then! I’ll wrestle a fall with her father
for putting this trick upon me, as I am a gentleman.
PHY. Good sir, mistake me not; I do not speak
To break the contract of united hearts;
I will not pull that curse upon my head,
To separate the husband and the wife;
But this, in love, I thought fit to reveal,
As the due office betwixt man and man,
That you might not be ignorant of your ills.
Consider now of my premonishment
As yourself shall please.
CHOUGH. I’ll burn all the rosemary to sweeten the house,
for, in my conscience, ’tis infected: has she drunk
bastard?[841] if she would piss me wine-vinegar now nine
times a-day, I’d never have her, and I thank you too.

_Re-enter_ TRIMTRAM.

TRIM. Come, will you come away, sir? they have all
rosemary, and stay for you to lead the way.
CHOUGH. I’ll not be married to-day, Trimtram: hast e’er
an almanac about thee? this is the nineteenth of August,
look what day of the month ’tis.
TRIM. ’Tis tenty-nine[842] indeed, sir.
[_Looks in an almanac._
CHOUGH. What’s the word?[843] what says Bretnor?[844]

TRIM. The word is, sir, _There’s a hole in her coat_.
CHOUGH. I thought so; the physician agrees with him;
I’ll not marry to-day.
TRIM. I pray you, sir; there will be charges for new
rosemary else; this will be withered by to-morrow.
CHOUGH. Make a bonfire on’t, to sweeten Rosemary-lane:
prithee, Trim, entreat my father-in-law that might have
been, to come and speak with me.
TRIM. The bride cries already and looks t’other way;
and[845] you be so backward too, we shall have a fine
arseward wedding on’t. [_Exit._
CHOUGH. You’ll stand to your words, sir?
PHY. I’ll not fly the house, sir; When you have need,
call me to evidence.
CHOUGH. If you’ll prove she has borne a bastard, I’ll
stand to’t she’s a whore. [_Exit Physician._

_Enter_ RUSSELL _and_ TRIMTRAM.

RUS. Why, how now, son? what causeth these delays?
All stay for your leading.
CHOUGH. Came I from the Mount[846] to be confronted?
RUS. How’s that, sir?
CHOUGH. Canst thou roar, old man?
RUS. Roar? how mean you, sir?
CHOUGH. Why, then, I’ll tell thee plainly, thy daughter
is a bronstrops.
RUS. A bronstrops? what’s that, sir?
TRIM. Sir, if she be so, she is a hippocrene.
CHOUGH. Nay, worse, she is a fructifer.
TRIM. Nay, then, she is a fucus, a minotaur, and a
tweak.
RUS. Pray you, speak to my understanding, sir.
CHOUGH. If thou wilt have it in plain terms, she is a
callicut and a panagron.
TRIM. Nay, then, she is a duplar and a sindicus.
RUS. Good sir, speak English to me.
CHOUGH. All this is Cornish to thee; I say thy daughter
has drunk bastard[847] in her time.
RUS. Bastard? you do not mean to make her a whore?
CHOUGH. Yes, but I do, if she make a fool of me; I’ll
ne’er make her my wife till she have her maidenhead
again.
RUS. A whore? I do defy this calumny.
CHOUGH. Dost thou? I defy thee then.
TRIM. Do you, sir? then I defy thee too: fight with us
both at once in this quarrel, if thou darest!
CHOUGH. I could have had a whore at Plymouth.
TRIM. Ay, or at Pe’ryn.[848]
CHOUGH. Ay, or under the Mount.
TRIM. Or as you came, at Ivel.[849]
CHOUGH. Or at Wookey-Hole[850] in Somersetshire.
TRIM. Or at the Hanging-stones in Wiltshire.
CHOUGH. Or at Maidenhead in Berkshire: and did I come in
by Maidenhead, to go out by Staines? O, that man, woman,
or child, would wrestle with me for a pound of patience!
RUS. Some thief has put in poison at your ears,
To steal the good name of my child from me;
Or if it be a malice of your own,
Be sure I will enforce a proof from you.
CHOUGH. He’s a goose and a woodcock that says I will not
prove any word that I speak.

TRIM. Ay, either goose or woodcock; he shall, sir, with
any man.
CHOUGH. Phy-si-ci-an! mauz avez physician![851]
RUS. Is he the author?

_Re-enter Physician._

PHY. Sir, with much sorrow for your sorrow’s sake,
I must deliver this most certain truth;
Your daughter is an honour-stainèd bride,
Indeed she is the mother to a child
Before the lawful wife unto a husband.
CHOUGH. La, that’s worse than I told thee; I said she
had borne a bastard, and he says she was the mother on’t
too.
RUS. I’m yet an infidel against all this,
And will believe the sun is made of brass,
The stars of amber——
CHOUGH. And the moon of a Holland cheese.
RUS. Rather than this impossibility.
O, here she comes.

_Re-enter_ JANE _with_ ANNE.

Nay come, daughter, stand at the bar of shame;
Either now quit thyself, or kill me ever:
Your marriage-day is spoil’d, if all be true.
JANE. A happy misery! who’s my accuser?
PHY. I am, that knows it true I speak.
CHOUGH. Yes, and I’m his witness.
TRIM. And I.
CHOUGH. And I again.
TRIM. And I again too; there’s four, that’s enough I
hope.
RUS. How can you witness, sir, that nothing know
But what you have receiv’d from his report?

CHOUGH. Must we not believe our physicians? pray you,
think I know as much as every fool does.
TRIM. Let me be Trimtram, I pray you too, sir.
JANE. Sir, if this bad man have laid a blemish
On my white name, he is a most false one,
Defaming me for the just denial
Of his foul lust.—Nay, now you shall be known, sir.
ANNE. Sir, I’m his sister, and do better know him
Than all of you: give not too much belief
To his wild words; he’s oftentimes mad, sir.
PHY. I thank you, good sister!
ANNE. Are you not mad
To do this office? fie upon your malice!
PHY. I’ll presently produce both nurse and child,
Whose very eyes shall call her mother before it speaks.
[_Exit._
CHOUGH. Ha, ha, ha, ha! by my troth, I’d spend a
shilling on that condition to hear that: I think in my
conscience I shall take the physician in a lie; if the
child call her mother before it can speak, I’ll never
wrestle while I live again.
TRIM. It must be a she child if it do, sir; and those
speak the soonest of any living creatures, they say.
CHOUGH. Baw, waw! a dog will bark a month sooner; he’s a
very puppy else.
RUS. Come, tell truth 'twixt ourselves; here’s none
but friends:
One spot a father’s love will soon wipe off;
The truth, and the[reb]y try my love abundant;
I’ll cover it with all the care I have,
And yet, perhaps, make up a marriage-day.
JANE. Then it’s true, sir, I have a[852] child.
RUS. Hast thou?
Well, wipe thine eyes; I’m a grandfather then.
If all bastards were banish’d, the city would be thin
In the thickest term-time. Well, now let me alone,
I’ll try my wits for thee.—Richard, Francis, Andrew!
None of my knaves within?

_Enter Servant._
SER. Here’s one of 'em, sir: the guests come in apace.
RUS. Do they, Dick? let 'em have wine and sugar;[853]
we’ll be for 'em presently; but hark, Dick.
[_Whispers Servant._
CHOUGH. I long to hear this child speak, i’faith, Trim;
I would this foolish physician would come once.
TRIM. If it calls her mother, I hope it shall never call
you father.
CHOUGH. No; and[854] it do, I’ll whip it, i’faith, and
give thee leave to whip me.
RUS. Run on thy best legs, Dick.
SER. I’ll be here in a twinkling, sir. [_Exit._

_Re-enter Physician, with Dutch Nurse and child._
PHY. Now, gentlemen, believe your eyes, if not
My tongue.—Do not you call this your child?
CHOUGH. Phew, that’s not the point! you promised us the
child should call her mother; if it does this month,
I’ll ne’er go to the roaring-school again.
RUS. Whose child is this, nurse?
NURSE. Dis gentleman’s, so he to me readen.
[_Points to the physician._
CHOUGH. ’Snails, she’s the physician’s bronstrops, Trim!

TRIM. His fucus, his very tweak, i’faith.
CHOUGH. A glister in his teeth! let him take her, with a
purgation to him!
RUS. ’Tis as your sister said, you are stark mad, sir,
This much confirms it; you have defamèd
Mine honest daughter; I’ll have you punish’d for’t,
Besides the civil penance of your sin,
And keeping of your bastard.
PHY. This is fine!
All your wit and wealth must not thus carry it.
RUS. Sir Chough, a word with you.
CHOUGH. I’ll not have her, i’faith, sir; if Trimtram
will have her, and[855] he will, let him.
TRIM. Who, I, sir? I scorn it: if you’ll have her, I’ll
have her too; I’ll do as you do, and no otherwise.
RUS. I do not mean’t to either; this only, sir,
That whatsoe’er you’ve seen, you would be silent;
Hinder not my child of another husband,
Though you forsake her.
CHOUGH. I’ll not speak a word, i’faith.
RUS. As you are a gentleman?
CHOUGH. By these basket-hilts, as I am a youth, a
gentleman, a roarer.
RUS. Charm[856] your man, I beseech you, too.
CHOUGH. I warrant you, sir, he shall do nothing but what
I do before him.
RUS. I shall most dearly thank you.—

_Re-enter Servant with_ FITZALLEN.

Welcome, son-in-law! this was beyond your hope:
We old men have pretty conceits sometimes;
Your wedding-day’s prepar’d, and this is it;
How think you of it?
FITZ. As of the joyfullest
That ever welcom’d me! you shew yourself now
A pattern to all kind fathers.—My sweetest Jane!
RUS. Your captivity I meant but as sauce
Unto your wedding-dinner; now I’m sure
’Tis far more welcome in this short restraint
Than had it freely come.
FITZ. A thousandfold.
JANE. I like this well. [_Aside._
CHOUGH. I have not the heart to see this gentleman
gulled so; I will reveal; I make it mine own case; ’tis
a foul case.
TRIM. Remember you have sworn by your hilts.
CHOUGH. I’ll break my hilts rather than conceal: I have
a trick; do thou follow me; I will reveal it, and yet
not speak it neither.
TRIM. ’Tis my duty to follow you, sir.
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _Take heed in time, O man, unto thy
head!_
TRIM. [_sings_] _All is not gold that glistereth in
bed._
RUS. Why, sir,—why, sir!
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _Look to’t, I say, thy bride is a
bronstrops._
TRIM. [_sings_] _And knows the thing that men wear in
their slops._
FITZ. How’s this, sir?
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _A hippocrene, a tweak, for and[857]
a fucus._
TRIM. [_sings_] _Let not fond love with foretops so
rebuke us!_

RUS. Good sir——
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _Behold a baby of this maid’s
begetting._
TRIM. [_sings_] _A deed of darkness after the
sunsetting._
RUS. Your oath, sir!
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _I swear and sing thy bride has
taken physic._
TRIM. [_sings_] _This was the doctor cur’d her of that
phthisic._
CHOUGH. [_sings_] _If you’ll believe me, I will say no
more._
TRIM. [_sings_] _Thy bride’s a tweak, as we do say
that roar._
CHOUGH. Bear witness, gentlemen, I have not spoke a
word; my hilts are whole still.
FITZ. This is a sweet epithalamium
Unto the marriage-bed, a musical,
Harmonious Iö! Sir, you have wrong’d me,
And basely wrong’d me! was this your cunning fetch,
To fetch me out of prison, for ever to marry me
Unto a strumpet?
RUS. None of those words, good sir;
’Tis but a fault, and ’tis a sweet one too.
Come, sir, your means is short; lengthen your fortunes
With a fair proffer: I’ll put a thousand pieces
Into the scale, to help her to weigh it up,
Above the first dowry.
FITZ. Ha? you say well;
Shame may be bought out at a dear rate;
A thousand pieces added to her dowry!
RUS. There’s five hundred of 'em to make the bargain;
[_Gives money._
I’ve worthy guests coming, and would not delude ’em;
Say, speak like a son to me.
FITZ. Your blessing, sir;
We are both yours:—witness, gentlemen,
These must be made up a thousand pieces,
Added to a first thousand for her dowry,
To father that child.
PHY. O, is it out now?
CHOUGH. For t’other thousand I’ll do’t myself yet.
TRIM. Or I, if my master will.
FITZ. The bargain’s made, sir; I have the tender
And possession both, and will keep my purchase.
CHOUGH. Take her e’en to you with all her moveables;
I’ll wear my bachelor’s buttons still.
TRIM. So will I, i’faith; they are the best flowers in
any man’s garden, next to heart’s-ease.
FITZ. This is as welcome as the other, sir,
And both as the best bliss that e’er on earth
I shall enjoy. Sir, this is mine own child;
You could not have found out a fitter father;
Nor is it basely bred, as you imagine,
For we were wedded by the hand of heaven
Ere this work was begun.
CHOUGH. At Pancridge,[858] I’ll lay my life on’t.
TRIM. I’ll lay my life on’t too, ’twas there.
FITZ. Somewhere it was, sir.
RUS. Was’t so, i’faith, son?
JANE. And that I must have reveal’d to you, sir,
Ere I had gone to church with this fair groom;
But, thank this gentleman, he prevented[859] me.—
I am much bound unto your malice, sir.
PHY. I am asham’d.
JANE. Shame to amendment then.
RUS. Now get you together for a couple of cunning
ones!
But, son, a word; the latter thousand pieces
Is now more than bargain.
FITZ. No, by my faith, sir,
Here’s witness enough on it; it must serve
To pay my fees, imprisonment is costly.
CHOUGH. By my troth, the old man has gulled himself
finely! Well, sir, I’ll bid myself a guest, though not a
groom; I’ll dine, and dance, and roar at the wedding for
all this.
TRIM. So will I, sir, if my master does.
RUS. Well, sir, you’re welcome: but now, no more words
on’t
Till we be set at dinner, for there will mirth
Be the most useful for digestion:
See, my best guests are coming.

_Enter_ LADY AGER, _Colonel’s Sister_, CAPTAIN AGER,
_his two Friends, and Surgeon_.

CAP. AGER. Recover’d, sayst thou?
SURG. May I be excluded quite out of Surgeons’ Hall
else! marry, I must tell you the wound was fain to be
twice corroded;’twas a plain gastrolophe,[860] and a
deep one; but I closed the lips on’t with bandages and
sutures[861] which is a kind[862] conjunction of the
parts separated against the course of nature.
CAP. AGER. Well, sir, he is well.

SURG. I feared him, I assure you, captain; before the
suture in the belly, it grew almost to a convulsion, and
there was like to be a bloody issue from the hollow
vessels of the kidneys.
CAP. AGER. There’s that, to thank thy news and thy art
together.
[_Gives him money._
SURG. And if your worship at any time stand in need of
incision, if it be your fortune to light into my hands,
I’ll give you the best.
CAP. AGER. Uncle, the noble Colonel’s recover’d.
RUS. Recover’d?
Then honour is not dead in all parts, coz.

_Enter Colonel and two Friends._

FIRST FR. OF CAP. Behold him yonder, sir.
CAP. AGER. My much unworthiness
Is now found out; thou’st not a face to fit it.
FIRST FR. OF COL. Sir, yonder’s captain Ager.
COL. O lieutenant,
The wrong I’ve done his fame puts me to silence;
Shame so confounds me, that I dare not see him.
CAP. AGER. I never knew how poor my deserts were
Till he appear’d; no way to give requital!
Here shame me lastingly, do’t with his own:
Return this to him; tell him I have riches
In that abundance in his sister’s love,
These come but to oppress me, and confound
All my deservings everlastingly;
I never shall requite my wealth in her, say.

[_Giving will to his friend, who delivers it to
the Colonel._
How soon from virtue and an honour’d spirit
May man receive what he may never merit!
COL. This comes most happily, to express me better;
For since this will was made, there fell to me
The manor of Fitzdale; give him that too;
[_Returning will with other papers._
He’s like to have charge,
There’s fair hope of my sister’s fruitfulness:
For me, I never mean to change my mistress,
And war is able to maintain her servant.
FIRST FR. OF CAP. Read there; a fair increase, sir, by
my faith;
He hath sent it back, sir, with new additions.
CAP. AGER. How miserable he makes me! this enforces me
To break through all the passages of shame,
And headlong fall——
COL. Into my arms, dear worthy!
CAP. AGER. You have a goodness
Has put me past my answers; you may speak
What you please now, I must be silent ever.
COL. This day has shewn me joy’s unvalu’d[863]
treasure;
I would not change this brotherhood with a monarch;
Into which blest alliance sacred heaven
Has plac’d my kinsman, and given him his ends:
Fair be that quarrel makes such happy friends!
[_Exeunt omnes._

------------------------------------------------------------------------

MORE DISSEMBLERS

BESIDES

WOMEN.

_More Dissemblers Besides Women. A Comedy, By Tho. Middleton, Gent. London. Printed for Humphrey Moseley_, 1657, forms part of a volume, the general title of which is _Two New Playes_.

{ _More Dissemblers_ _Viz_ { _besides Women._ { _Women beware_ {
_Women._

_Written by Tho. Middleton, Gent. London, Printed for Humphrey Moseley and are to be sold at his Shop at the Prince’s Arms in St Pauls Churchyard._ 1657. 8vo. To this volume is prefixed the following address

“TO THE READER.

“When these amongst others of Mr. Thomas Middleton’s excellent poems came to my hands, I was not a little confident but that his name would prove as great an inducement for thee to read as me to print them; since those issues of his brain that have already seen the sun have by their worth gained themselves a free entertainment amongst all that are ingenious: and I am most certain that these will no way lessen his reputation nor hinder his admission to any noble and recreative spirits. All that I require at thy hands is to continue the author in his deserved esteem, and to accept of my endeavours which have ever been to please thee.

Farewell.”

Another play by Middleton, printed in the same year and

ᚴfor the same bookseller—_No_ {_Wit_ } _like a Woman’s_— {_Help_} is generally found appended to the volume just described.

The present drama has been reprinted in the 4th vol. of _A Continuation of Dodsley’s Old Plays_, 1816.

That _More Dissemblers besides Women_ was produced a considerable time previous to the year 1623, we learn from the following entry by Sir Henry Herbert (Chalmers’s _Suppl. Apol._ p. 215);

“17 October [1623] For the King’s Company, _An Old Play, called, More Dissemblers besides Women_: allowed by Sir George Bucke; and being free from alterations was allowed by me, for a new play, called _The Devil of Dowgate, or Usury put to use_. Written by Fletcher.”

Immediately preceding act i. of the old ed. are the words “The First Part;” which would seem to imply that a Second Part had been written, or perhaps only designed.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

_Lord Cardinal of Milan._
LACTANTIO, _his nephew_.
ANDRUGIO, _general of Milan_.
_Father to Aurelia._
_Governor of the fort._
DONDOLO, _servant to Lactantio_.
CROTCHET, _a singing-master_.
SINQUAPACE, _a dancing-master_.
NICHOLAO, _his usher_.
_Captain of the Gipsies._
_Lords, Gipsies, Servants, and Guards._

_Duchess of Milan._
CELIA, _her waiting-woman_. AURELIA.
_Page, Lactantio’s mistress in disguise._

Scene, MILAN and the neighbourhood.

MORE DISSEMBLERS

BESIDES

WOMEN.

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