 | The Woman-Hater |  |
Scæna Tertia.
Enter the Duke, the Count, Gondarino, and Arrigo.Duke.
Now Gondarino, what can you put on now
That may deceive us?
Have ye more strange illusions, yet more mists,
Through which, the weak eye may be led to error:
What can ye say that may do satisfaction
Both for her wrong'd honor, and your ill?
Gond.
All I can say, or may, is said already:
She is unchaste, or else I have no knowledge;
I do not breathe, nor have the use of sense.
Duke.
Dare ye be yet so wilful, ignorant of your own
nakedness? did not your servants
They brought her to that house we found her in,
Almost by force: and with a great distrust
Of some ensuing hazard?
Count.
He that hath begun so worthily,
It fits not with his resolution
To leave off thus, my Lord, I know these are but idle proofs.
What says your Lordship to them?
Gond.
Count, I dare yet pronounce again, thy Sister is
not honest.
Count.
You are your self my Lord, I like your setledness.
Gond.
Count, thou art young, and unexperienc'd in the
dark, hidden ways of Women: Thou dar'st affirm with
confidence, a Lady of fifteen may be a Maid.
Count.
Sir, if it were not so, I have a Sister would set
near my heart.
Gond.
Let her sit near her shame, it better fits her: call back
the bloud that made our stream in nearness, and turn
the Current to a better use; 'tis too much mudded, I do
grieve to know it.
Duke.
Dar'st thou make up again, dar'st thou turn
face, knowing we know thee, hast thou not been discover'd
openly? did not our ears hear her deny thy courtings?
did we not see her blush with modest anger, to be
so overtaken by a trick; can ye deny this Lord?
Gond.
Had not your Grace, and her kind brother
Been within level of her eye,
You should have had a hotter volley from her,
More full of bloud and fire, ready to leap the window where she stood.
So truly sensual is her appetite.
Duke.
Sir, Sir, these are but words and tricks, give
me the proof.
Count.
What need a better proof than your Lordship?
I am sure, ye have lain with her my Lord.
Gond.
I have confest it Sir.
Duke.
I dare not give thee credit without witness.
Gond.
Does your grace think we carry seconds with us,
to search us, and see fair play: your Grace hath been
ill tutor'd in the business; but if you hope to try her
truly, and satisfy your self what frailty is, give her the
Test: do not remember Count she is your Sister; nor
let my Lord the Duke believe she is fair; but put her
to it without hope or pity, then ye shall see that golden
form flie off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixt,
and under't base blushing Copper; metall not worth the
look through her heart, and view the spirits how they
leap, and tell me then I did belie the Lady.
Duke.
It shall be done: come Gondarino bear us company,
We do believe thee: she shall die, and thou shalt see it.
Enter Lazarello, two Intelligencers, and Guard.
How now my friends, who have you guarded hither?
2 Int.
So please your Grace we have discover'd a villain
and a Traitor: the Lord Lucio hath examin'd him,
and sent him to your Grace for Judgement.
Count.
My Lord, I dare absolve him from all sin of
Treason: I know his most ambition is but a dish of meat,
which he hath hunted with so true a scent, that he deserveth
the Collar not the Halter.
Duke.
Why do they bring him thus bound up? the
poor man had more need have some warm meat, to comfort
his cold stomach.
Count.
Your Grace shall have the cause hereafter, when
you shall laugh more freely:
But these are call'd Informers: men that live by Treason,
as Rat-catchers do by poison.
Duke.
Would there were no heavier prodigies hung
over us, than this poor fellow, I durst redeem all perils
ready to pour themselves upon this State, with a cold
Custard.
Count.
Your Grace might do it without danger to your
person.
Laz.
My Lord, if ever I intended treason against your
Person, or the State, unless it were by wishing from your
Table some dish of meat, which I must needs confess,
was not a subjects part: or coveting by stealth, sups from
those noble bottles, that no mouth, keeping allegiance
true, should dare to taste: I must confess, with more
than covetous eye, I have beheld those dear conceal'd
dishes, that have been brought in by cunning equipage,
to wait upon your Graces pallat: I do confesse,
out of this present heat, I have had Stratagems and
Ambuscado's; but God be thank'd they have never
took.
Duke.
Count, this business is your own; when you have
done, repair to us.
Count.
I will attend your Grace: Lazarello, you are at
liberty, be your own man again; and if you can be master
of your wishes, I wish it may be so.
Laz.
I humbly thank your Lordship: I must be unmannerly,
I have some present business, once more I heartily
thank your Lordship.
Count.
Now even a word or two to you, and so farewell;
you think you have deserv'd much of this State by this discovery:
y'are a slavish people, grown subject to the common
course of all men. How much unhappy were that noble
spirit, could work by such baser gains? what misery
would not a knowing man put on with willingness, e'r he
see himself grown fat and full fed, by fall of those you
rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our healthful
State needs no such Leeches to suck out her bloud.
1 Int.
I do beseech your Lordship.
2 Int.
Good my Lord.
Count.
Go learn to be more honest, what I see you work
your means from honest industry,
I will be willing to accept your labours:
Till then I will keep back my promis'd favours:
Here comes another remnant of folly:
Enter Lucio.
I must dispatch him too. Now Lord Lucio, what business
brings you hither?
Luc.
Faith Sir, I am discovering what will become of
that notable piece of treason, intended by that Varlet Lazarillo;
I have sent him to the Duke for judgement.
Count.
Sir, you have perform'd the part of a most
careful Statesman, and let me say it to your face, Sir,
of a Father to this State: I would wish you to retire,
and insconce your self in study: for such is your daily labour,
and our fear, that our loss of an hour may breed
our overthrow.
Luc.
Sir, I will be commanded by your judgement, and
though I find it a trouble scant to be waded through,
by these weak years: yet for the dear care of the Common-wealth,
I will bruise my brains, and confine my self
to much vexation.
Count.
Go, and maist thou knock down Treason like an
Ox.
Luc.
Amen.
Exeunt.
Enter Mercer, Pandar, Francissina.
Mer.
Have I spoke thus much in the honor of Learning?
learn'd the names of the seven liberal Sciences, before
my marriage, and since, have in haste written Epistles
congratulatory, to the Nine Muses, and is she
prov'd a Whore and a Begger?
Pan.
'Tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no
man can be learn'd of a suddain; let not your first project
discourage you, what you have lost in this, you may
get again in Alchumie.
Fran.
Fear not Husband, I hope to make as good a
wife, as the best of your neighbors, have, and as honest.
Mer.
I will goe home; good Sir, do not publish this,
as long as it runs amongst our selves; 'tis good honest
mirth: you'll come home to supper; I mean to
have all her friends, and mine, as ill as it goes.
Pan.
Do wisely Sir, and bid your own friends, your
whole wealth will scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your
credit, to walk the streets with a woman so noted, get
you home and provide her cloaths: let her come an
hour hence with an Hand-basket, and shift her self, she'll
serve to sit at the upper end of the Table, and drink
to your customers.
Mer.
Art is just, and will make me amends.
Pan.
No doubt Sir.
Mer.
The chief note of a Scholar you say, is to govern
his passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in sign
of which, my dear Wife, I do kiss thee, make haste home
after me, I shall be in my study.
Pan.
Go, avaunt, my new City Dame, send me what
you promis'd me for consideration; and may'st thou
prove a Lady.
Fran.
Thou shalt have it, his Silks shall slie for it.
Exeunt.
Enter Lazarello and his boy.
Laz.
How sweet is a Calm after a Tempest, what is
there now that can stand betwixt me and felicity? I
have gone through all my crosses constantly; have confounded
my enemies, and know where to have my longing
satisfied: I have my way before me, there's the door,
and I may freely walk into my delights: knock boy.
Jul.
Who's there?
Within.
Laz.
Madona, my Love, not guilty, not guilty, open
the door.
Enter Julia.
Jul.
Art thou come sweet-heart?
Laz.
Yes, to my soft embraces, and the rest of my
overflowing blisses; come, let us in and swim in our delights:
a short Grace as we go, and so to meat.
Nay my dear Love, you must bear with me in this;
we'll to the Church first.
Laz.
Shall I be sure of it then?
Jul.
By my love you shall.
Laz.
I am content, for I do now wish to hold off longer,
to whet my appetite, and do desire to meet with more
troubles, so I might conquer them:
The tedious night with many a sigh and tears;
Whilst he pursu'd his wench: and hath observ'd
The smiles, and frowns, not daring to displease
When at last, hath with his service won
Her yielding heart; that she begins to dote
Upon him, and can hold no longer out,
But hangs about his neck, and wooes him more
Than ever he desir'd her love before:
Then begins to flatter his desert,
And growing wanton, needs will cast her off;
Try her, pick quarrels, to breed fresh delight,
And to increase his pleasing appetite.
Jul.
Come Mouse will you walk?
Laz.
I pray thee let me be deliver'd of the joy I am
so big with, I do feel that high heat within me, that
I begin to doubt whether I be mortal:
With whom I did but yesterday converse?
And in a lower, and an humbler key
Did walk and meditate on grosser meats?
There are they still poor rogues, shaking their chops,
And sneaking after Cheeses, and do run
Headlong in chace, of every Jack of Beer
That crosseth them, in hope of some repast,
That it will bring them to, whilst I am here,
The happiest wight that ever set his tooth
To a dear novelty: approach my love,
Come, let's go to knit the True Loves knot,
That never can be broken.
Boy.
That is to marry a whore.
Laz.
When that is done, then will we taste the gift,
Which Fates have sent my Fortunes up to lift.
Boy.
When that is done, you'll begin to repent upon
a full stomach; but I see, 'tis but a form in destiny, not
to be alter'd.
Exeunt.
Enter Arrigo and Oriana.
Oria.
Sir, what may be the current of your business,
that thus you single out your time and place?
Arri.
Madam, the business now impos'd upon me, concerns
you nearly, I wish some worser man might finish
it.
Ori.
Why are ye chang'd so? are ye not well Sir?
Arr.
Yes Madam, I am well, wo'd you were so.
Oria.
Why Sir, I feel my self in perfect health.
Arri.
And yet ye cannot live long, Madam.
Oria.
Why good Arrigo?
Arr.
Why? ye must dye.
Oria.
I know I must, but yet my fate calls not upon
me.
Arr.
It does; this hand the Duke commands shall give
you death.
Oria.
Heaven, and the powers Divine, guard well the
innocent.
Arr.
Lady, your Prayers may do your soul some good.
That sure your body cannot merit by 'em:
You must prepare to die.
Orian.
What's my offence? what have these years committed,
That may be dangerous to the Duke, or State?
Have I conspir'd by poison, have I giv'n up,
My honor to some loose unsetl'd bloud
That may give action to my plots?
Dear Sir, let me not dye ignorant of my faults?
Arr.
Ye shall not.
Then Lady, you must know, you're held unhonest;
The Duke, your Brother, and your friends in Court,
With too much grief condemn ye: though to me,
The fault deserves not to be paid with death.
Orian.
Who's my accuser?
Arri.
Lord Gondarino.
Orian.
Arrigo, take these words, and bear them to the Duke,
It is the last petition I shall ask thee:
Tell him the child this present hour brought forth
To see the world has not a soul more pure, more white,
More Virgin than I have; Tell him Lord Gondarino's
Plot, I suffer for, and willingly: tell him it had been
a greater honor, to have sav'd than kill'd: but I have
done: strike, I am arm'd for heaven. Why, stay you? is
there any hope?
Arri.
I would not strike.
Orian.
Have you the power to save?
Arri.
With hazard of my life, if it should be known.
Orian.
You will not venture that?
Arri.
I will Lady: there is that means yet to escape
your death, if you can wisely apprehend.
Orian.
Ye dare not be so kind?
Arri.
I dare, and will, if you dare but deserve't.
Ori.
If I should slight my life, I were too blame.
Arri.
Then Madam, this is the means, or else you die:
I love you.
Orian.
I shall believe it, if you save my life.
Arri.
And you must lie with me.
Orian.
I dare not buy my life so.
Arri.
Come, ye must resolve, say yea or no.
Orian.
Then no; nay, look not ruggedly upon me,
I am made up too strong to fear such looks:
Come, do your Butchers part: before I would wish life,
with the dear loss of honour, I dare find means to free
my self.
Arr.
Speak, will ye yield?
Orian.
Villain, I will not; Murtherer, do thy worst,
thy base unnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am
above thee slave.
Arri.
Wilt thou not be drawn to yield by fair perswasions?
Orian.
No, nor by—
Arri.
Peace, know your doom then; your Ladyship
must remember, you are not now at home, where you
dare feast all that come about you: but you are fallen
under my mercy, which shall be but small; if thou refuse
to yield: hear what I have sworn unto my self; I will
enjoy thee, though it be between the parting of thy
soul and body; yield yet and live.
Orian.
I'll guard the one, let Heaven guard the other,
Arri.
Are you so resolute then?
Duke from above.
Hold, hold I say.
Orian.
What I? yet more terror to my tragedy?
Arri.
Lady, the Scene of bloud is done; ye are now as
free from scandal, as from death.
Enter Duke, Count, and Gondarino.
Duke.
Thou Woman which wert born to teach men virtue,
Fair, sweet, and modest Maid, forgive my thoughts,
My trespass was my love.
Seize Gondarino, let him wait our dooms.
Gond.
I do begin a little to love this woman; I could
endure her already twelve miles off.
Sister, I am glad you have brought your honor
off so fairly, without loss: you have done a work above
your sex, the Duke admires it: give him fair encounter.
Duke.
Best of all comforts, may I take this hand, and
call it mine?
Ori.
I am your Graces handmaid.
Duke.
Would ye had fed my self: might it not be so Lady?
Count.
Sister, say I, I know you can afford it.
Ori.
My Lord, I am your subject, you may command me,
provided still, your thoughts be fair and good.
Duke.
Here I am yours, and when I cease to be so,
Let heaven forget me: thus I make it good.
Ori.
My Lord, I am no more mine own.
Count.
So, this bargain was well driven.
Gond.
Duke, thou hast sold away thy self to all perdition,
thou art this present hour becomming Cuckold: methinks
I see thy gaul grate through thy veins, and jealousie seize
thee with her talons: I know that womans nose must be
cut off, she cannot scape it.
Duke.
Sir, we have punishment for you.
Orian.
I do beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs
this man hath done me, let me pronounce his punishment.
Duke.
Lady, I give't to you, he is your own.
Gond.
I do beseech your Grace, let me be banisht with all
the speed that may be.
Count.
Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.
Orian.
Lord Gondarino, you have wrong'd me highly;
yet since it sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from
a general dislike unto all women, you shall thus suffer for
it; Arrigo, call in some Ladies to assist us; will your Grace
make your State?
Gond.
My Lord, I do beseech your Grace for any punishment
saving this woman, let me be sent upon discovery
of some Island; I do desire but a small Gondela,
with ten Holland Cheeses, and I'll undertake it.
Oria.
Sir, ye must be content, will ye sit down? nay,
do it willingly: Arrigo, tie his Arms close to the chair, I
dare not trust his patience.
Gond.
Mayst thou be quickly old and painted; mayst
thou dote upon some sturdy Yeoman of the Wood-yard,
and he be honest; mayst thou be barr'd the lawful lechery
of thy Coach, for want of instruments; and last,
be thy womb unopen'd.
Duke.
This fellow hath a pretty gaul.
Count.
My Lord, I hope to see him purg'd e'r he part,
Enter Ladies.
Oria.
Your Ladyships are welcome:
I must desire your helps, though you are no Physitians, to
do a strange cure upon this Gentleman.
Ladies.
In what we can assist you Madam, ye may command
us.
Gond.
Now do I sit like a Conjurer within my circle,
and these the Devils that are rais'd about me, I will pray
that they may have no power upon me.
Oria.
Ladies, fall off in couples, then with a soft still
march, with low demeanors, charge this Gentleman, I'll
be your Leader.
Gond.
Let me be quarter'd Duke quickly, I can endure
it: these women long for Mans flesh, let them have it.
Duke.
Count, have you ever seen so strange a passion?
what would this fellow do, if he should find himself in bed
with a young Lady?
Count.
'Faith my Lord, if he could get a knife, sure he
wou'd cut her throat, or else he wou'd do as Hercules did
by Lycas, swing out her soul: h'as the true hate of a woman
in him.
Oria.
Low with your Cursies Ladies.
Gond.
Come not too near me, I have a breath will poison
ye, my lungs are rotten, and my stomach is raw: I am
given much to belching: hold off, as you love sweet airs;
Ladies, by your first nights pleasure, I conjure you, as you
wou'd have your Husbands proper men, strong backs, and
little legs, as you would have 'em hate your Waiting-women.
Oria.
Sir, we must court ye, till we have obtain'd some
little favour from those gracious eyes, 'tis but a kiss a
piece.
Gond.
I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcel
of that damned crew that fell down with Lucifer, and here
ye staid on earth to plague poor men; vanish, avaunt, I am
fortified against your charms; heaven grant me breath and
patience.
1 Lady.
Shall we not kiss then?
Gond.
No fear my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them
up like a Ferrets: oh that this brunt were over!
2 Lady.
Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly
by my troth, I think I must box thee till thou be'st
bolder; the more bold, the more welcome: I prethee
kiss me, be not afraid.
She sits on his knee.
Gond.
If there be any here, that yet have so much of
the fool left in them, as to love their mothers, let them
on her, and loath them too.
2 Lady.
What a slovenly little villain art thou, why dost
thou not stroke up thy hair? I think thou ne'er comb'st it:
I must have it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see
thy hands, are they wash'd?
Gond.
I would thy were loose for thy sake.
Duke.
She tortures him admirably.
Count.
The best that ever was.
2 Lady.
Alas, how cold they are, poor golls, why dost
thee not get thee a Muff?
Arri.
Madam, here's an old Countrey Gentlewoman at
the door, that came nodding up for justice, she was with
the Lord Gondarino to day, and would now again come to
the speech of him, she says.
Oria.
Let her in, for sports sake, let her in.
Gond.
Mercy, oh Duke, I do appeal to thee: plant Canons
there, and discharge them against my breast rather: nay,
first let this she-fury sit still where she does, and with her
nimble fingers stroke my hair, play with my fingers ends,
or any thing, until my panting heart have broke my
breast.
Duke.
You must abide her censure.
The Lady rises from his knee.
Enter old Gentlewoman.
Gond.
I see her come, unbutton me, for she will speak.
Gentlew.
Where is he Sir?
Gond.
Save me, I hear her.
Ar.
There he is in state to give you audience
Gentlew.
How does your Lordship?
Gond.
Sick of the spleen.
Gentlew.
How?
Gond.
Sick.
Gentlew.
Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not refuse
it, it is very comfortable.
Gond.
Nay, now thou art come, I know it
Is the Devils Jubile, Hell is broke loose:
My Lord, if ever I have done you service,
Or have deserv'd a favour of your Grace,
Let me be turn'd upon some present action,
Where I may sooner die, than languish thus;
Your Grace hath her petition, grant it her, and ease me now at last.
Duke.
No Sir, you must endure,
Gentlew.
For my petition, I hope your
Lordship hath remembred me.
Oria.
'Faith I begin to pity him, Arrigo, take her off, bear
her away, say her petition is granted.
Whither do you draw me Sir? I know it is not
my Lords pleasure I should be thus used, before my business
be dispatched?
Arr.
You shall know more of that without.
Oria.
Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall
promise; for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have
them still hated by thee, and injoyn thee as a punishment,
never hereafter willingly to come in the presence, or sight
of any woman, nor never to seek wrongfully, the publick
disgrace of any.
Gond.
'Tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I
meditate with them, for their good, or their bad; may
Time call back this day again, and when I come in
their companies, may I catch the pox, by their breath,
and have no other pleasure for it.
Duke.
Ye are most merciful.
Oria.
My Lord, I shew'd my sex the better.
Gond.
All is over-blown Sister: y'are like to have a fair
night of it, and a Prince in your Arms: let's goe my
Lord.
Duke.
Thus through the doubtful streams of joy and grief,
True Love doth wade, and finds at last relief.
Exeunt omnes.
| The Woman-Hater | |