 | The Woman-Hater |  |
Actus Secundus.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Gondarino and his servants.Serv.
My Lord:
Gond.
Ha!
Serv.
Here's one hath brought you a present,
Gond.
From whom? from a woman? if it be from a woman,
bid him carrie it back, and tell her she's a whore; what is it?
Serv.
A Fish head my Lord.
Gond.
What Fish head?
Serv.
I did not aske that my Lord.
Gond.
Whence comes it?
Ser.
From the Court.
Gond.
O 'tis a Cods-head.
Serv.
No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke.
Gond.
Let it be carried to my Mercer, I doe owe him
money for silks, stop his mouth with that.
Was there ever any man that hated his wife after death but
I? and for her sake all women, women that were created
only for the preservation of little dogs.
Enter Servant.
Serv.
My Lord the Count's sister being overtaken in the
streets, with a great hail-storm, is light at your gate,
and desires Rome till the storm be overpast.
Gond.
Is she a woman?
Serv.
I my Lord I think so.
Gond.
I have none for her then: bid her get her gone,
tell her she is not welcome.
Serv.
My Lord, she is now comming up.
Gond.
She shall not come up, tell her any thing; tell her
I have but one great room in my house, and I am now in
it at the close stool.
Serv.
She's here my Lord.
Gond.
O impudence of women: I can keep dogs out of
my house, or I can defend my house against theeves, but
I cannot keep out women.
Now Madam, what hath your Ladyship to say to me?
Oria.
My Lord, I was bold to crave the help of your
house against the storm.
Gond,
Your Ladyships boldness in coming will be impudence
in staying; for you are most unwelcome.
Oriana.
Oh my Lord!
Gond.
Doe you laugh? by the hate I bear to you, 'tis true.
Orian.
Y'are merry my Lord.
Gond.
Let me laugh to death if I be, or can be whilst
thou art here, or livest; or any of thy sex.
Oriana.
I commend your Lordship.
Gond.
Doe you commend me? why doe you commend
me? I give you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent
whore; a woman, a very woman.
Oria.
Ha, ha, ha.
Gond.
Begot when thy father was drunk.
Orian.
Your Lordship hath a good wit.
Gond.
How? what have I a good wit?
Orian.
Come my Lord, I have heard before of your Lordships
merry vain in jesting against our Sex, which I being
desirous to hear, made me rather choose your Lordships
house, than any other, but I know I am welcome.
Gond.
Let me not live if you be: me thinks it doth not
become you, to come to my house being a stranger to you,
I have no woman in my house, to entertain you, nor to
shew you your chamber; why should you come to me? I
have no Galleries, nor banqueting houses, nor bawdy pictures
to shew your Ladyship.
Orian.
Believe me this your Lordships plainess makes me
think my self more welcome, than if you had sworn by all
the pretty Court oaths that are, I had been welcomer than
your soul to your body.
Gond.
Now she's in, talking treason will get her out,
I durst sooner undertake to talk an Intelligencer out of the
room, and speak more than he durst hear, than talk a woman
out of my company.
Enter a Servant.
Serv.
My Lord the Duke being in the streets, and the storm
continuing, is entred your gate, and now coming up.
Gond.
The Duke! now I know your Errand Madam; you
have plots and private meetings in hand: why doe you choose
my house? are you asham'd to goe to't in the old coupling
place, though it be less suspicious here; for no Christian will
suspect a woman to be in my house? yet you may do it cleanlyer
there, for there is a care had of those businesses; and
wheresoever you remove, your great maintainer and you
shall have your lodgings directly opposite, it is but putting
on your night-gown, and your shippers; Madam, you understand
me?
Orian.
Before I would not understand him, but now he
speaks riddles to me indeed.
Enter the Duke, Arrigo, and Lucio.
Duke.
'Twas a strange hail-storm.
Lucio.
'Twas exceeding strange.
Gond.
Good morrow to your grace.
Duke.
Good morrow Gonderino.
Gond.
Justice great Prince.
Duke.
Why should you beg for justice, I never did you
wrong; What's the offendor?
Gond.
A woman.
Duke.
I know your ancient quarrell against that Sex; but
what hainous crime hath she committed?
Gond.
She hath gone abroad.
Duke.
What? it cannot be.
Gond.
She hath done it.
Duke.
How? I never heard of any woman that did so before.
Gond.
If she have not laid by that modesty
That should attend a Virgin, and, quite void
Of shame, hath left the house where she was born,
As they should never doe; let me endure
The pains that she should suffer.
Duke.
Hath she so? Which is the woman?
Gond.
This, this.
Duke.
How! Arrigo: Lucio:
Gond.
I then it is a plot, no Prince alive
Shall force me make my house a Brothell house;
Not for the sins, but for the womans sake,
I will not have her in my doors so long:
Will they make my house as bawdy as their own are?
Duke.
Is it not Oriana?
Lucio.
'Tis.
Duke.
Sister to Count Valero?
Arri.
The very same.
Duke.
She that I love?
Lucio.
She that you love.
Duke.
I do suspect
Lucio.
So doe I.
Duke.
This fellow to be but a counterfeit,
One that doth seem to loath all woman-kind,
To hate himself, because he hath some part
Of woman in him; seems not to endure
To see, or to be seen of any woman,
Only, because he knows it is their nature
To wish to tast that which is most forbidden:
And with this shew he may the better compass
Lucio.
Upon my life 'tis so.
Duke.
And I doe know,
Before his slain wife gave him that offence,
He was the greatest servant to that Sex
That ever was: what doth this Lady here
With him alone? why should he rail at her to me?
Lucio.
Because your grace might not suspect.
Duke.
'Twas so: I doe love her strangely:
I would fain know the truth: counsell me.
They three whisper.
Enter Count, Lazarello, and his boy.
Count.
It falls out better than we could expect Sir, that
we should find the Duke and my Lord Gondarino together;
both which you desire to be acquainted with.
Laz.
'Twas very happy: Boy, goe down into the kitchen,
and see if you can spy that same; I am now in some hope:
I have me thinks a kind of fever upon me.
Exit Boy.
A certain gloominess within me, doubting as it were, betwixt
two passions: there is no young maid upon her wedding
night, when her husband sets first foot in the bed, blushes,
and looks pale again, oftner than I doe now. There is no
Poet acquainted with more shakings and quakings, towards
the latter end of this new play, when he's in that case, that
he stands peeping betwixt Curtains, so fearfully that a
Bottle of Ale cannot be opened, but he thinks some body
hisses, than I am at this instant.
Count.
Are they in consultation? If they be, either my
young Duke hath gotten some Bastard, and is persuading
my Knight yonder to father the child, and marry the wench,
or else some Cock-pit is to be built.
Laz.
My Lord! what Nobleman's that?
Count.
His name is Lucio, 'tis he that was made a Lord
at the request of some of his friends for his wives sake: he
affects to be a great States-man, and thinks it consists in
night-caps and jewells, and tooth-picks?
Laz.
And what's that other?
Count.
A Knight Sir, that pleaseth the Duke to favour,
and to raise to some extraordinary fortunes, he can make
as good men as himself, every day in the week, and doth—
Laz:
For what was he raised?
Count.
Truely Sir, I am not able to say directly, for what;
But for wearing of red breeches as I take it; he's a brave
man, he will spend three Knighthoods at a Supper without
Trumpets.
Laza.
My Lord I'll talk with him, for I have a friend,
that would gladly receive the humor.
Count.
If he have the itch of Knighthood upon him, let
him repair to that Physitian, he'll cure him: but I will give
you a note; is your friend fat or lean?
Laz,
Something fat.
Count.
'Twill be the worse for him.
Laza.
I hope that's not material.
Count.
Very much, for there is an impost set upon Knighthoods,
& your friend shall pay a Noble in the pound.
Duke.
I doe not like examinations,
We shall find out the truth more easily,
Some other way less noted, and that course,
Should not be us'd, till we be sure to prove
Some thing directly, for when they perceive
Themselves suspected, they will then provide
More warily to answer.
Luc.
Doth she know your Grace doth love her?
Duke.
She hath never heard it.
Luc.
Then thus my Lord.
They whisper again
Laz.
What's he that walks
They whisper again
alone so sadly with his hands behind him?
Count.
The Lord of the house, he that you desire to be
acquainted with, he doth hate women for the same cause
that I love them.
Laz.
What's that?
Count.
For that which Apes want: you perceive me Sir?
Laz.
And is he sad? Can he be sad that hath so rich a
gem under his roof, as that which I doe follow.
What young Lady's that?
Count.
Which? Have I mine eye-sight perfect, 'tis my
sister: did I say the Duke had a Bastard? What should she
make here with him and his Councell? She hath no papers
in her hand to petition to them, she hath never a husband
in prison, whose release she might sue for: That's a fine
trick for a wench; to get her husband clapt up, that she may
more freely, and with less suspition, visit the private studies
of men in authority. Now I doe discover their consultation,
yon fellow is a Pander without all salvation: But let me
not condemn her too rashly without weighing the matter,
she's a young Lady, she went forth early this morning with
a waiting woman, and a Page, or so: This is no garden house,
in my conscience she went forth with no dishonest intent:
for she did not pretend going to any Sermon in the further
end of the City: Neither went she to see any odd old Gentlewoman,
that mourns for the death of her husband, or
the loss of her friend, and must have young Ladys come to
comfort her: those are the damnable Bawds: 'Twas no
set meeting certainly; for there was no wafer-woman with
her these three days on my knowledge: I'll talk with her;
Good morrow my Lord.
Gond.
Y'are welcome Sir: here's her brother come now
to doe a kind office for his sister; is it not strange?
Count.
I am glad to meet you here sister.
Orian.
I thank you good brother: and if you doubt of
the cause of my coming I can satisfie you.
Count.
No faith, I dare trust thee, I doe suspect thou
art honest; for it is so rare a thing to be honest amongst
you, that some one man in an age, may perhaps suspect
some two women to be honest, but never believe it verily.
Luci.
Let your return be suddain.
Arri.
Unsuspected by them.
Duke.
It shall; so shall I best perceive their Love, if there
be any; Farewell.
Count.
Let me entreat your grace to stay a little,
To know a gentleman, to whom your self
Is much beholding; he hath made the sport
For your whole Court these eight years, on my knowledge.
Duke.
His name?
Count.
Lazarello.
Duke.
I heard of him this morning, which is he?
Count.
Lazarello, pluck up thy spirits, thy Fortune is now
raising, the Duke calls for thee, and thou shalt be acquainted
with him.
Laz.
He's going away, and I must of necessity stay here upon business.
Count.
'Tis all one, thou shalt know him first.
Laz.
Stay a little, if he should offer to take me away with
him, and by that means I should loose that I seek for; but
if he should I will not goe with him.
Count.
Lazarello, the Duke stayes, wilt thou lose this opportunity?
Laz.
How must I speak to him?
Count.
'Twas well thought of: you must not talk to him
as you doe to an ordinary man, honest plain sence, but you
must wind about him: for example, if he should aske you
what a clock, it is, you must not say; If it please your grace
'tis nine; but thus; thrice three a clock, so please my Sovereign:
or thus;
Upon the sweet banks of the learned Well;
And just so many stroaks the clock hath struck,
And so forth; And you must now and then enter into a description.
Laz.
I hope I shall doe it.
Count.
Come: May it please your grace to take note
of a Gentleman, wel seen, deeply read, and throughly
grounded in the hidden knowledge of all sallets and pot-herbs
whatsoever.
I shall desire to know him more inwardly.
Laz.
I kiss the Oxe-hide of your graces soot.
Count.
Very well: will your grace question him a little?
Duke.
How old are you?
Laz.
Full eight and twenty several Almanacks
Have been compiled, all for several years
Since first I drew this breath, four prentiships
Have I most truely served in this world:
And eight and twenty times hath Phœbus Car
Run out his yearly course since—
Duke.
I understand you Sir.
Luci.
How like an ignorant Poet he talks.
Duke.
You are eight and twenty years old? what time
of the day doe you hold it to be?
Laz.
About the time that mortals whet their knives
On thresholds, on their shooe sols, and on stairs,
New bread is grating, and the testy Cook
Hath much to doe now, now the Tables all.
Duk.
'Tis almost dinner time?
Laz.
Your grace doth apprehend me very rightly.
Count.
Your grace shall find him in your further conference
Grave, wise, courtly, and scholar like, understandingly read
In the necessities of the life of man.
He knows that man is mortal by his birth;
He knows that man must dye, and therefore live;
He knows that must live, and therefore eat,
And if it shall please your grace, to accompany your self
with him, I doubt not, but that he will, at the least, make
good my commendations.
Duk.
Attend us Lazarello, we doe want
Men of such Action, as we have received you
Reported from your honorable friend.
Laza.
Good my Lord stand betwixt me and my overthrow,
you know I'm ti'd here, and may not depart, my
gracious Lord, so waightie are the businesses of mine own,
which at this time do call upon me, that I will rather chuse
to die, than to neglect them.
Count.
Nay you shall perceive, besides the virtues that
I have alreadie inform'd you of, he hath a stomach which
will stoop to no Prince alive.
Duk.
Sir at your best leisure, I shall thirst to see you.
Laza.
And I shall hunger for it.
Duk.
Till then farewell all.
Gon., Count.
Long life attend your Grace.
Duk.
I doe not tast this sport, Arrigo Lucio.
Arrigo., Luci.
We doe attend.
Exeunt Duke, Arrigo, Lucio.
Gond.
His grace is gone, and hath left his.
Hellen with me, I'm no pander for him, neither can I
be won with the hope of gain, or the itching desire of
tasting my Lords lecherie to him, to keep her at (my house)
or bring her in disguise, to his bed Chamber.
About my naked brest, will seem to me
More tickling than those claspes, which men adore;
The lustfull, dull, ill spirited embraces
Of women; The much praysed Amazones,
Knowing their own infirmities so well,
Made of themselves a people, and what men
They take amongst them, they condemne to die,
Perceiving that their folly made them fit
To live no longer that would willingly
Come in the worthless presence of a woman.
I will attend, and see what my young Lord will doe with his sister.
Enter Lazarilloes Boy.
Boy.
My Lord; The fish head is gone again.
Count.
Wither?
Boy.
I know whither my Lord.
Count.
Keep it from Lazarillo: Sister shall I confer with
you in private, to know the cause of the Dukes coming
hither, I know he makes you acquainted with his business of State.
Oria.
I'll satisfie you brother, for I see you are jealous of me.
Gond.
Now there shall be some course taken for her conveiance.
Laza.
Lazarillo, thou art happy, thy carriage hath begot
love, and that love hath brought forth fruits; thou art here
in the company of a man honorable, that will help thee
to tast of the bounties of the Sea, and when thou hast so
done thou shalt retire thy self unto the court, and there
tast of the delicates of the earth, and be great in the eyes
of thy Soveraign: now no more shalt thou need to scramble
for thy meat, nor remove thy stomach with the Court; But
thy credit shall command thy hearts desire, and all novelties
shall be sent as presents unto thee.
Count.
Good Sister, when you see your own time, wil
you return home.
Oria.
Yes brother, and not before.
Laza.
I will grow popular in this State, and overthrow
the fortunes of a number, that live by extortion.
Count.
Lazarello, bestirr thy self nimbly and sodainly,
and hear me with patience to hear.
Laza.
Let me not fall from my self; Speak I'm bound
Count.
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear the
fish head is gone, and we know not whither.
Laza.
I will not curse, nor swear, nor rage, nor rail,
Nor with contemptuous tongue, accuse my Fate;
Though I might justly doe it, nor will I
Wish my self uncreated for this evil:
Shall I entreat your Lordship to be seen
A little longer in the company
Of a man cross'd by Fortune?
Count.
I hate to leave my friend in his extremities.
Laza.
'Tis noble in you, then I take your hand,
And doe protest, I doe not follow this
For any malice or for private ends,
But with a love, as gentle and as chast,
As that a brother to his sister bears:
And if I see this fish head yet unknown;
The last words that my dying father spake,
Before his eye strings brake, shall not of me
So often be remembred, as our meeting:
Fortune attend me, as my ends are just;
Full of pure love, and free from servile lust.
Count.
Farwell my Lord, I was entreated to invite your
Lordship to a Lady's upsiting.
Gond.
O my ears, why Madam, will not you follow your brother?
you are waited for by great men, heel bring you to him.
Oria.
I'm very well my Lord, you doe mistake me, if
you think I affect greater company than your self.
Gond.
What madness possesseth thee, that thou canst
imagine me a fit man to entertain Lady's; I tell thee, I doe
use to tear their hair, to kick them, and twindge their
noses, if they be not carefull in avoiding me.
Oria.
Your Lordship may discant upon your own behavior
as please you, but I protest, so sweet and courtly it appeares
in my eye, that I mean not to leave you yet.
Crnd.
I shall grow rough,
Oria.
A rough carriage is best in a man,
I'll dine with you my Lord.
Gond.
Why I will starve thee, thou shalt have nothing.
Oria.
I have heard of your Lordships nothing, I'll put
that to the venture.
Gond.
Well thou shalt have meat, I'll send it to thee.
Oria.
I'll keep no state my Lord, neither doe I mourn,
I'll dine with you.
Gond.
Is such a think as this allowed to live?
What power hath let the loose upon the earth
To plague us for our Sins? Out of my doors.
Oria.
I would your Lordship did but see how well
This fury doth become you, it doth shew
So neer the life, as it were natural.
Gond.
O thou damn'd woman, I will flie the vengeance
That hangs above thee, follow if thou dar'st.
Exit Gondarino.
Oria.
I must not leave this fellow, I will torment him to madness,
To teach his passions against kind to move,
The more he hates, the more I'll seem to love.
Exeunt Oriana and Maid.
Pand.
Sir, what may be done by art shall be done,
I wear nor this black cloak for nothing.
Mer.
Perform this, help me to this great heir by learning,
and you shall want no black cloaks; taffaties, silkgrograns,
sattins and velvets are mine, they shall be yours;
perform what you have promis'd, and you shall make me
a lover of Sciences, I will study the learned languages, and
keep my shop-book in Latine.
Pand.
Trouble me not now, I will not fail you within
this hour at your shop.
Mer.
Let Art have her course.
Enter Curtezan.
Pand.
'Tis well spoken, Madona.
Mad.
Hast thou brought me any customers.
Pan.
No.
Ma.
What the devil do'st thou in black?
Pa.
As all solemn professors of setled courses, doe, cover
my knavery with it: will you marry a citizen; Reasonably
rich, and unreasonably foolish, silks in his shop, mony in
his purse, and no wit in his head?
Ma.
Out upon him, I could have otherwise than so, there
was a Knight swore he would have had me, if I would
have lent him but forty shillings to have redeem'd his cloak,
to goe to Church in.
Pan.
Then your wastcote wayter shall have him, call her in?
Ma.
Francessina?
Fr.
Anon?
Ma.
Get you to the Church, and shrive your self,
For you shall be richly marryed anon.
Pan.
And get you after her, I will work upon my citizen
whilst he is warm, I must not suffer him to consult
with his neighbours, the openest fools are hardly cousened,
if they once grow jealous.
Exeunt
| The Woman-Hater | |