 | The Woman-Hater |  |
Actus Primus.
Scæna Prima.
Enter Duke of Millain, Arrigo, Lucio, and two Courtiers.
Tis now the sweetest time for sleep, the night
is scarce spent, Arrigo, what's a clock?
Arri.
Past four.
Duke.
Is it so much, and yet the morn not up?
See yonder where the shamefac'd Maiden comes
Into our sight, how gently doth she slide,
Hiding her chaste cheeks, like a modest Bride,
With a red veil of blushes; as if she,
Even such all modest virtuous Women be.
Why thinks your Lordship I am up so soon?
Lucio.
About some weighty State plot.
Duke.
And what thinks your knighthood of it?
Arr.
I do think to cure some strange corruptions in the Common-wealth.
Duke.
Y'are well conceited of your selves to think
I chuse you out to bear me company
In such affairs and business of state:
For am not I a pattern for all Princes,
That break my soft sleep for my subjects good?
Am I not careful? very provident?
Luc.
Your Grace is careful.
Arri.
Very provident.
Duke.
Nay, knew you how my serious working plots,
Concern the whole Estates of all my subjects,
I, and their lives; then Lucio thou wouldst swear,
I were a loving Prince.
Luc.
I think your Grace intends to walk the publick
streets disguis'd, to see the streets disorders.
Duke.
It is not so
Arri.
You secretly will cross some other states, that do
conspire against you.
Duke.
Weightier far:
You are my friends, and you shall have the cause;
I break my sleeps thus soon to see a wench.
Luc.
Y'are wond'rous careful for your subjects good.
Arri.
You are a very loving Prince indeed.
Duke.
This care I take for them, when their dull eyes,
Are clos'd with heavy slumbers.
Arri.
Then you rise to see your wenches?
Luc.
What Milan beauty hath the power, to charme her
Sovereign eyes, and break his sleeps:
Duke.
Sister to Count Valore, she's a Maid
Would make a Prince forget his throne, and state,
And lowly kneel to her: the general sate
Of all mortality, is hers to give;
As she disposeth, so we die and live.
Luc.
My Lord, the day grows clear, the Court will rise.
Duk.
We stay too long, is the Umbrances head as we commanded,
sent to the sad Gondarino, our General?
Arr.
'Tis sent.
Duke.
But stay, where shines that light?
Arri.
'Tis in the chamber of Lazarello.
Lazarillo? what is he?
Arri.
A Courtier my Lord, and one that I wonder your
Grace knows not: for he hath followed your Court, and
your last predecessors, from place to place, any time this
seven years, as faithfully as your Spits and your Dripping-pans
have done, and almost as greasily.
Duke.
Oh we know him, as we have heard, he keeps a
Kalender of all the dishes of meat, that have been in the
Court, ever since our great Grandfathers time; and when
he can thrust in at no Table, he makes his meat of that.
Lucio.
The very same my Lord.
Duke.
A Courtier call'st thou him?
Believe me Lucio, there be many such
About our Court, respected, as they think,
Even by our self; with thee I will be plain:
We Princes do use, to preferre many for nothing, and to
take particular and free knowledg, almost in the nature of
acquaintance of many; whom we do use only for our pleasures,
and to give largely to numbers; more out of policy
to be thought liberal, and by that means to make the people
strive to deserve our Love; than to reward any particular
desert of theirs, to whom we give: and do suffer our
selves to hear flatterers, more for recreation
And yet we know all these, and when we please,
Can touch the wheel, and turn their names about.
Luc.
I wonder they that know their states so well, snould
fancy such base slaves.
Duke.
Thou wond'rest Lucio,
Dost not thou think, if thou wert Duke of Milan,
Thou should'st be flattered?
Luc.
I know my Lord, I would not.
Duke.
Why so, I thought till I was Duke, I thought I
should have left me no more flatterers, than there are now
Plain-dealers; and yet for all this my resolution, I am most
palpably flattered: the poor man may loath covetousness
and flattery, but fortune will alter the mind when the wind
turns: there may be well a little conflict, but it, will drive
the billows before it.
To Phebus team; and his unrival'd light,
Hath chac'd the mornings modest blush away:
Now must we to our love, bright Paphian Queen;
Thou Cytherean goddess, that delights
In stirring glances, and art still thy self,
More toying than thy team of Sparrows be;
Thou laughing Errecina, oh inspire
Her heart with love, or lessen my desire.
Exeunt.
Scæna Secunda.
Enter Lazarillo and his boy.Laz.
Go run, search, pry in every nook and angle of
the Kitchins, Larders, and Pasteries, know what meat's
boil'd, bak'd, rost, stew'd, fri'd, or sous'd, at this dinner
to be serv'd directly, or indirectly to every several Table
in the Court, be gone.
Boy.
I run, but not so fast as your mouth will do upon
the stroke of Eleven.
Laz.
What an excellent thing did God bestow upon man,
when he gave him a good stomach? what unbounded graces
there are pour'd upon them that have the continual command
of the very best of these blessings? 'tis an excellent
thing to be a Prince; he is serv'd with such admirable variety
of Fare; such innumerable choice of Delicates; his
Tables are full fraught with most nourishing food, and
his Cubbards heavy laden with rich Wines; his Court is
still filled with most pleasant variety: In the Summer, his
Palace is full of Green Geese; and in Winter it swarmeth
with Woodcocks,
Fill me this day with some rare delicates
And I will every year most constantly,
As this day celebrate a sumptuous Feast,
If thou wilt send me victuals in thine honor?
And to it shall be bidden for thy sake,
Even all the valiant stomachs in the Court:
All short-cloak'd Knights, and all cross-garter'd Gentlemen,
All pump and pantosle, foot-cloth riders;
With all the swarming generation
Of long stocks, short pain'd hose, and huge stuff'd doublets:
All these shall eat, and which is more than yet
Hath e'er been seen, they shall be satisfied
I wonder my Ambassador returns not?
Enter Boy.
Boy.
Here I am Master.
Laza.
And welcome:
Never did that sweet Virgin in her smock,
Fair-cheek'd Andromeda, when to the rock
Her Ivorie limbs were chain'd, and straight before
A huge Sea-monster, tumbling to the shore,
To have devour'd her, with more longing sight
Expect the coming of some hardy Knight,
That might have quell'd his pride, and set her free,
Than I with longing sight have look'd for thee.
Boy.
Your Perseus is come Master, that will destroy him,
The very comfort of whose presence shuts
The monster hunger from your yelping guts
Laza.
Brief boy, brief, discourse the service of each several
Table compendiously.
Boy.
Here's a Bill of all Sir.
Laza.
Give it me, a Bill of all the several services this
day appointed for every Table in the Court,
Within this paper all my joyes are clos'd:
Boy, open it, and read it with reverence.
Boy.
For the Captain of the Guards Table, three chines
of Beef, and two joals of Sturgeon.
Laza.
A portly service, but gross, gross, proceed to the
Dukes own Table, dear boy, to the Dukes own Table,
Boy.
For the Dukes own Table, the head of an Umbrana.
Laza.
Is't possible? can Heaven be so propitious to the Duke?
Boy.
Yes, I'll assure you Sir, 'tis possible, Heaven is so
propitious to him.
Laza.
Why then he is the richest Prince alive:
He were the wealthiest Monarch in all Europe,
Had he no other Territories, Dominions, Provinces, Seats,
Not Palaces, but only that Umbrana's head.
Boy.
'Tis very fresh and sweet, Sir, the fish was taken
but this night, and the head, as a rare novelty, appointed
by special commandement for the Dukes own Table, this
dinner.
Laza.
If poor unworthy I may come to eat
Of this most sacred dish, I here do vow
(If that blind Huswife, Fortune will bestow
But means on me) to keep a sumptuous house,
A board groaning under the heavy burden of the beasts
that cheweth the cudd, and the Fowl that cutteth the
Air: I shall not like the Table of a countrey Justice, besprinkled
over with all manner of cheap Sallads, sliced
Beef, Giblets, and Petitoes, to fill up room, nor should there
stand any great, cumbersom, un-cut-up pies, at the nether
end fill'd with moss and stones, partly to make a shew with
and partly to keep the lower Mess from eating, nor shall
my meat come in sneaking, like the City service, one dish
a quarter of an hour after another, and gone, as if they had
appointed to meet there, and had mistook the hour, nor
should it, like the new Court service, come in in haste, as
if it fain would be gone again, all courses at once, like a
hunting breakfast, but I would have my several courses,
and my dishes well fill'd, my first course should be brought
in after the antient manner, by a score of old bleer-ey'd
Serving-men, in long blew coats, (marry they shall buy
Silk, Facing, and Buttons themselves) but that's by the way.
Master the time calls on, will you be walking?
Laza.
Follow boy, follow, my guts were half an hour
since in the privy Kitchin.
Exeunt.
Scæna Tertia.
Enter Count, and his Sister Oriana.Oria.
Faith brother, I must needs go yonder.
Count.
And faith Sister what will you do yonder?
Oria.
I know the Lady Honoria will be glad to see me.
Count.
Glad to see you? faith the Lady Honoria cares for
you as she doth for all other young Ladies, she's glad
to see you, and will shew you the Privy Garden, and tell
you how many Gowns the Duchess had; Marry if you have
ever an old Uncle, that would be a Lord, or ever a kinsman
that hath done a murther, or committed a robbery, and
will give good store of Money to procure his pardon, then
the Lady Honoria will be glad to see you.
Oria.
I, but they say one shall see fine sights at the Court.
Count.
I'll tell you what you shall see, you shall see
many faces of mans making, for you shall find very few as
God left them: and you shall see many legs too; amongst
the rest you shall behold one pair, the feet of which, were in
times past, sockless, but are now through the change of time
(that alters all things) very strangely become the legs of a
Knight and a Courtier; another pair you shall see, that were
heir apparent legs to a Glover, these legs hope shortly to be
honourable; when they pass by they will bow, and the mouth
to these legs, will seem to offer you some Courtship; it
will not swear, but it it will lye, hear it not.
Oria.
Why, and are not these fine sights?
Count.
Sister, in seriousness you yet are young
And fair, a fair young Maid, and apt.
Oria.
Apt?
Count.
Exceeding apt to be drawn to.
Oria.
To what?
Count.
To that you should not be, 'tis no dispraise,
She is not bad that hath desire to ill,
But she that hath no power to rule that Will:
For there you shall be wooed in other kinds
Than yet your years have known, the chiefest men
Will seem to throw themselves
As vassals at your voice, kiss your hand,
Prepare your Banquets, Masques, Shews, all inticements
That Wit and Lust together can devise,
To draw a Lady from the state of Grace
To an old Lady widdows Gallery;
And they will praise your virtues, beware that,
The only way to turn a Woman whore,
Is to commend her chastity: you'll goe?
Oria.
I would go, if it were but only to shew you, that
I could be there, and be mov'd with none of these tricks.
Count.
Your servants are ready!
Oria.
An hour since.
Count.
Well, if you come off clear from this hot service,
Your praise shall be the greater. Farewel Sister.
Oria.
Farewel Brother.
Count.
Once more, if you stay in the presence till candlelight,
keep on the foreside o'th' Curtain; and do you hear,
take heed of the old Bawd, in the cloth of Tissue sleeves,
and the knit Mittines. Farewel Sister.
Exit Oria.
Now am I idle, I would I had been a Scholar, that I might
a studied now: the punishment of meaner men is, they have
too much to do; our only misery is, that without company
we know not what to do; I must take some of the common
courses of our Nobility; which is thus: if I can find
no company that likes me, pluck off my Hatband, throw
an old Cloak over my face, and as if I would not be known,
walk hastily through the streets, till I be discovered;
then there goes Count such a one, says one; there
goes Count such a one, says another: Look how fast
he goes, says a third; there's some great matters in hand
questionless, says a fourth; when all my business is to have
them say so: this hath been used; or if I can find any company,
I'll after dinner to the Stage, to see a Play; where,
when I first enter, you shall have a murmure in the house,
every one that does not know cries, What Nobleman is that?
all the Gallants on the Stage rise, vail to me, kiss their hand,
offer me their places: then I pick out some one, whom I
please to grace among the rest, take his seat, use it, throw
my cloak over my face, and laugh at him: the poor Gentleman
imagines himself most highly grac'd, thinks all the
Auditors esteem him one of my bosom friends; and in right
special regard with me. But here comes a Gentleman, that
I hope will make me better sport, than either street and
stage fooleries.
This man loves to eat good meat, always provided, he
do not pay for it himself, he goes by the name of the Hungry
Courtier, marry, because I think that name will not sufficiently
distinguish him, for no doubt he hath more fellows
there, his name is Lazarello, he is none of these ordinary
eaters, that will devour three breakfasts, and as many dinners,
without any prejudjce to their Beavers, Drinkings,
or Suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger,
and doth hunt more after novelty, than plenty, I'll overhear
him.
Laza.
Oh thou most itching kindly appetite,
Which every creature in his stomach feels;
Oh leave, leave yet at last thus to torment me.
Three several Sallads have I sacrific'd,
Bedew'd with precious oil and vinegar
Already to appease thy greedy wrath. Boy.
Boy.
Sir.
Laza.
Will the Count speak with me?
Boy.
One of his Gentlemen is gone to inform him of
your coming, Sir.
Laza.
There is no way left for me to compass the Fishhead,
but by being presently made known to the Duke.
Boy.
That will be hard Sir.
Laza.
When I have tasted of this sacred dish,
Then shall my bones rest in my Fathers tomb
In peace; then shall I dye most willingly,
And as a dish be serv'd to satisfie,
Deaths hunger, and I will be buried thus:
My Bier shall be a charger born by four,
The Cossin where I lye, a powd'ring-tab,
Bestrew'd with Lettice, and cool Sallad herbs,
My Winding-sheet of Tansies, the black Guard
Shall be my solemn Mourners, and instead
Of ceremonies, wholsom burial Prayers:
A printed dirge in rhyme, shall bury me.
Instead of tears, let them pour Capon sauce upon my hearse,
And salt instead of dust, Manchets for stones, for other glorious shields
Give' me a Voider; and above my Hearse
For a Trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up.
The Count discovers himself.
Boy.
Master, the Count's here.
Laza.
Where? my Lord I do beseech you.
Count.
Y'are very welcome Sir, I pray you stand up, you
shall dine with me.
Laza.
I do beseech your Lordship by the love
I still have born to your honourable house.
Count.
Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray rise.
Laza.
Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these
same fellows, that do as it were respect victuals.
Count.
Oh Sir by no means.
Laza.
Your Lordship has often promised, that whensoever
I should affect greatness, your own hand should help to
raise me.
And so much still assure your self of.
Laza.
And though I must confess, I have ever shun'd
popularity, by the example of others, yet I do now
feel my self a little ambitious, your Lordship is great, and
though young, yet a Privy Counsellor.
Count.
I pray you Sir leap into the matter, what would
You have me do for you?
Laza.
I would intreat your Lordship to make me known
to the Duke.
Count.
When Sir?
Laza.
Suddainly my Lord, I would have you present me
unto him this morning.
Count.
It shall be done, but for what virtues, would you
have him take notice of you?
Laza.
Your Lordship shall know that presently.
Count.
'Tis pity of this fellow, he is of good wit, and
sufficient understanding, when he is not troubled with this
greedy worm.
Laza.
'Faith, you may intreat him to take notice of me
for anything; for being an excellent Farrier, for playing
well at Span-counter, or sticking knives in walls, for being
impudent, or for nothing; why may not I be a Favorite on
the suddain? I see nothing against it.
Count.
Not so Sir, I know you have not the face to be a
Favourite on the suddain.
Laz.
Why then you shall present me as a Gentleman well
qualified, or one extraordinary seen in divers strange mysteries.
Count.
In what Sir? as how?
Laz.
Marry as thus.
Enter Intelligencer.
Count.
Yonder's my old Spirit, that hath haunted me daily,
ever since I was a privy Counsellor, I must be rid of him,
I pray you stay there, I am a little busie, I will speak with
you presently.
Laza.
You shall bring me in, and after a little other talk
taking me by the hand, you shall utter these words to the
Duke: May it please your grace, to take note of a Gentleman,
well read, deeply learned, and throughly grounded in
the hidden knowledge of all Sallads and Pot-herbs whatsoever.
Count.
'Twill be rare if you will walk before, Sir, I will
overtake you instantly.
Laza.
Your Lordships ever.
Count.
This fellow is a kind of an informer, one that lives
in Alehouses and Taverns, and because he perceives some
worthy men in this Land, with much labour and great expence,
to have discovered things dangerously hanging over
the State; he thinks to discover as much out of the talk of
drunkards in Tap-houses: he brings me informations,
pick'd out of broken words, in mens common talk, which,
with his malicious mis-application, he hopes will seem dangerous,
he doth besides, bring me the names of all the
young Gentlemen in the City, that use Ordinaries, or Taverns,
talking (to my thinking) only as the freedom of
their youth teach them, without any further ends; for
dangerous and seditious spirits; he is besides, an arrant
whoremaster, as any is in Milan, of a Lay-man; I will not
meddle with the Clergy: he is parcel Lawyer, and in my
conscience much of their religion, I must put upon him
some piece of service; come hither Sir, what have you to
do with me?
Int.
Little my Lord, I only come to know how your Lordship
would employ me.
Count.
Observed you that Gentleman, that parted from
me but now?
Int.
I saw him now my Lord.
Count.
I was sending for you, I have talked with this
man, and I do find him dangerous.
Int.
Is your Lordship in good earnest?
Count.
Hark you Sir, there may perhaps be some within
ear-shots.
He whispers with him.
Enter Lazarello and his Boy.
Laz.
Sirrah, will you venture your life, the Duke hath
sent the Fish-head to my Lord?
Boy.
Sir if he have not, kill me, do what you will with
me.
Laz.
How uncertain is the state of all mortal things?
I have these crosses from my Cradle, from my very Cradle,
insomuch that I do begin to grow desperate: Fortune
I do despise thee, do thy worst; yet when I do better gather
my self together, I do find it is rather the part of a
wise man, to prevent the storms of Fortune by stirring,
than to suffer them by standing still, to pour themselves upon
his naked body, I will about it.
Count.
Who's within there?
Let this Gentleman out at the back door, forget not my
instructions, if you find anything dangerous; trouble not
your self to find out me, but carry your informations to
the Lord Lucio, he is a man grave, and well experienced in
these businesses.
Int.
Your Lordships Servant.
Exit Intelligencer and Servingman.
Count.
Your Lordships servant.
Laz.
Will it please your Lordship to walk?
Count.
Sir I was coming, I will overtake you.
Laz.
I will attend you over against the Lord Gonderinoes
house.
Count.
You shall not attend there long.
Laz.
Thither must I to see my Loves face, the chaste
Virgin head
Of a dear Fish, yet pure and undeflowred,
Not known of man no rough bred countrey hand,
Hath once toucht thee, no Pandars withered paw,
Nor an un-napkin'd Lawyers greasie fist,
Hath once slubbered thee: no Ladies supple hand,
Wash'd o'er with Urine, hath yet seiz'd on thee
With her two nimble talents: no Court hand,
Whom his own natural filth, or change of air,
Hath bedeck'd with scabs, hath marr'd thy whiter grace:
Oh let it be thought lawful then for me,
To crop the flower of thy Virginity.
Exit Lazarello.
Count.
This day I am for fools, I am all theirs,
Though like to our young wanton cocker'd heirs,
Who do affect those men above the rest,
In whose base company they still are best:
I do not with much labour strive to be
The wisest ever in the company:
But for a fool, our wisdom oft amends,
As enemies do teach us more than friends.
Exit Count.
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