University of Virginia Library

ACT III.

SCENE I.

Piso, Victoria.
Pi.
Why not me, Lady? stand not I as faire,
And fit for your embrace as any man?

Vic.
Yes sir, tis granted; and as acceptable
I yeild to none.

Pi.
Tis but to try my Courtship, I presume,
That you put on this coynesse, and to draw
More ample testimony of affection,
By Protestation, Prayers, Compliments;
The weakest ceremonies due to love;
Meere noyse and Lip-labour, with losse of time.
I thinke with scorne upon such poore expressions,
And am above the art of Amorists,
That cringe and creepe by weake degrees of Love;
To Kisse the hand, the Cheek, the Lip, then cry
O Divine touch! then smirk, and then embrace,
Then nuzzle in the Elizium of your bosome,
And be entranc'd! meanes fit for duller spirits,
To gather heat and strength of appetite.
My desire speakes in Loves true dialect;
And, from my heart inflam'd, you may perceive
Loves fire rage in mine eyes, enough
To melt to yeildingnes a frozen breast.
In this I talke too much. I finde you yeilding.

Vic.
And I my selfe too blame—

Pi.
Let us retire then.

Vic.
Mistake me not good Signior. Keep your distance:
I blame my selfe to let you overweene
By my long silence, that immodesty
To be in me, that might embolden you
To your and my dishonor. Pray desist,
And let the friendly welcome you have found
Perswade your faire construction.

Pi.
Is this earnest?

Vic.
Yes in sooth is it.

Pi.
I'le be playner then,
What make you here i'th' Smock-Faire, precious Mistris?
Or why these dressings, these perfumes and paintings?
Doe you weare the habit of our Curtezans,
And, by their art, call Gazers to your beauty,
Full of high hopes and flames of ardent Love,
Thus to delude, and make them witnesses
Of a cold seeming Chastity? what new Art
Is this? it cannot be to get a husband!

Vic.
Nor a child neither sir, that's lesse.

Pi.
That's soone believ'd, yet, no disparagement
To your expert sufficiency in the trade:
For the best Carpenters make fewest chips,
There's very few of all your function fruitfull:
Yet some there be approved men at armes
Famous in publique service; and a many
Good handy craftsmen in the Arsenall
Bred by this bounteous City from such mothers
That nere could boast their fathers; and as many
Daughters (if they prove worthy in their feature)
Succeed their active Mothers in their fortunes.

Vic.
You are better read then I sir.

Pi.
Tis common knowledge Lady. Nor do I
Read this t'informe your selfe, who were instructed
(I make no doubt) before your price was set,
By all examples to your present practise.

Vic.
Sir, I must tell you now, you grow too lavish;
So, as I feare foule language; to'avoyd which
Let me intreat a faire departure hence.

Pi.
Lady, this overacted State might fit
The wife of a Clarissimo, or the bashfull
Daughter of some Patrician: but in you,
A piece set out to sale, it but appeares
Affected singularity, more unsutable
To the temptations you weare about you
Then th'holy seeming pictures in your Chamber.

Vic.
Why should it trouble you sir?

Pi.
It dos, to thinke what new and secret aime
You may intend by this; in taking on you
The habit, and the name of Curtezan:
And, first, to set a price so far beyond
The strength of any ordinary meanes;
And then to shew a carriage that may strike
Lust out of countenance! O the Knot's dissolv'd!
O Oedipus! O Sphynx! I now have found it
You fish for Fishermen (tis pregnant truth)
Shee claps a Cardinall aboord at least:
Tis not a Lay-mans purse, or Learning can,
Or purchace, or confute you, ist not so?

Vic.
Now you are foule indeed, and I must plead
My priviledge against you sir, you know
I have a freedome grounded upon custome
Here in this City, for a moneth to make
Choyce of my Lodging, set what price I please
Upon my selfe; admit what visitants
I shall thinke fit; no other, nor no more;
And this without controule, or least exception
Of you or any man; secur'd by th' City,
So safe from out-rages, that least abuse
May, on my just complaint, be punishable
In whomsoever by affront dares grive me.

Pi.
I feare shee'l prove another creature then
The Beast I tooke her for: shee knows her strength.

Vic.
Yet thus much (for you are a Gentleman)
I'le yeild for satisfaction unexacted:
If in this Moneths space, in that honor'd way
(For I despaire not of a husband sir)
Of holy Marriage, I be not promov'd;
Nor, by that time prefix'd, the great Son tenderd
(Great as you terme't) for my virginity;
And that I stoope for lesse, here is my hand,
I will be yours as freely as mine owne
At your own price.

Pi,
Said like a noble Wench,
Onely a word by way of friendly advise,
And so farewell. This Maydenhead of yours,
By you so highly pris'd; now being ripe
(And therein only merchantable ware)
Will, if you overslip the season, grow
Sodainly fulsome, streight way state, then Rotten:
Think upon choycest Fruit, or Foule, or Fish,
Rich Wines, or any Rarity; how soone
Their vertue's lost.

Vic.
I am enough instructed.

Pi.
Once more farewell—pray ponder on these things.

Vic.
Feare not I shall.

Pi.
Could you consider how 'twould grieve a soule
Indued with Reason, Knowing, the true use
Of Nature's delicates, to see 'hem lost,
Or spoil'd for want of seasonable taking,
I know you would, and thanke me for my counsell.

Vic.
Indeed and so I doe.

Pi.
Indeed farwell then.

Exit.
Vic.
Hee's gone, at last the tedious storme is over.
I shall want day, as well as patience
T'indure and answer all the rest so largely,
See my sprightly Frenchman! I must looke
For a hot Onset now, though a short Skirmish.

Enter Horatio, like a French cavalier, Paulo presents him.
Hor.
Let me in my approach admire that Object
That vindicates the voyce of Fame, in proving
Shee was no Lyer in the lowd reports,
That blaz'd it for the Beauty of the World!

Vic.
Good sir beware idolatry.

Hor.
The Egiptians,
Would they forbeare their wonted heathenish worship,
And fall in adoration of this face—

Vic.
Indeed i'le heare no more.

Hor.
Lady you must,
You are so farre above the pitch of flattery
That highest courtship in our best of Language
Wants due expression of your supreame graces:
And not to tender you the heighth of prayse
Were mere Rusticity, rather prophanation.

Vic.
Yet. Let me stay you there, and let me tell you
You have worded well your high conceipt of me,
But in a way so low, so undeserving
A courtiers art, that I have found you none.

Hor.
No Courtier Lady?

Vic.
No, no Courtier sir,
How can it fall in courtly understanding
That beauty can be conquerd by it's praise?
It breeds but lesse respect, and oft times scorne
From those that are ambitious of praise
On such praise-givers. And if you came onely
Thus to pronounce my praise, you have said enough.

Hor.
Nay dearest Lady, saving your displeasure—
I must come closer to her, shee'l forget
Aside.
Shee is a whore else.

Vic.
Sir, your further pleasure

Hor.
To tell you, Lady, now I like your wit
Equally with your beauty; briefly of which
A word or two, and so unto our businesse.
(You tax me with the losse of time already)
You doe consider fitly, that to praise
What we would purchace makes the value higher:
It is the chapmans rule to discommend.

Vic.
Right sir, were you to buy a Horse or Jewell,
You would not praise it past the price propounded.

Hor.
Yes, where I finde the worth exceed the price.

Vic.

(I am betray'd. Hee brings the Money
sure)

Aside.
Hor.
And, that you know I doe esteeme your worth
Above all Salary, I yeild my selfe,
Fraught with unvaluable Love and Honor
To be the due reward of your embraces.

Vic.
What's this sir, to a thousand double Duccatts?

Hor.
You cannot thinke so poorely, or if so,
Perceive them in a taste of my endowments.
First see my late composure; where the flame
Of the soule-ravishing art of Poesy
May light your judgement 'bove the love of money.

Vic.
You'l say my soule is noble, then if I
(As I protest I doe) complaine the wants
Of even the best professors of that art.
The words are set.

Hor.
To notes my voyce can master?

Vic.
Please you to read 'hem sir, and in requitall
Of such a debt, my mayd shall sing 'hem for you.
Enter Jacconetta.
Jacconetta, observe this Dity.
Hee Reades the Song.

Vic.
Now try your voyce, Maide.

Jac. Sings.
Hor.
However 'twas well Sung, you seeme to slight
In such requitall, my esteeme of you:
But yet there rests in me a quality,
I may suppose not so to be requited.
Please you command your Musick, I will Dance,
To what you first shall name of latest practise.

Vic.
Your skill hath made you confident; and I
Do so much honour these endowments in you,
That I my selfe will answer you in this.
Name you the Dance sir.

Hor.
To come the closer to you, the Novella.

Vic.
I am but weakly practis'd yet in that.

Hor.
Some other then.

Vic.
No let it be the same.
Goe play it Jacconetta, the Novella.

Exit Jac.
Hor.
I doe begin to doubt my qualities
Will not passe here in payment at the rate
My schooling cost me, when shee repayes all
I can bestow, in the same coyne againe:
But since I'm in, i'le on, and make the best
Both Face and Legs I can in't.

Dance.
Hor.
How like you it Lady?

Vic.
For so much sir as you have excell'd me
I crave your kind acceptance of my thanks.

Hor.
I still had rather you were pleas'd to accept
Me and my whole deservings. I come to you.
If you esteeme of Courtship, Language, Quality,
Sorting a Gentleman of best degree,
The Mixture of whose knowledge with his practise
Cost thrice your golden Son; let me and those
Be made the meed of your most sweet enjoying.

Vic.
I will not make you such a loser sir,
But rather wish you had your money againe
Those excellencies cost.

Hor.
You doe not stout me Lady?

Vic.
No, i'le speake plainly sir, these qualities
Might on some thriving Stage, and lucky legs
Bring you your money againe, winning, perhaps,
The love of some old Lady, by stirring up
The embers of affection, rather lust.

Hor.
Did ever woman talke so?

Vic.
But certes here
They will not passe for ready money sir.

Hor.
I dreampt as much. Shee has a devillish wit.

Vic.
My curtesie sir forbids me bid you hence;
But having private businesse of my own
I must crave leave to leave you to the thought
Of what two thousand Duccats are.

Exit.
Hor.
Be hand'd.

Enter Paulo.
Pau.
Is it perform'd sir? have you done the feat?

Hor.
Pox o'your Feates.

Pau.
Just as the Musick playd I warrant you
Sir, 'twas a moving Lesson; playd to th'life.
We struck it home, that you might do so too.

Hor.
The Rogue, too, jeeres me! sir I should doe well
To strike, or beat your undeserv'd Fee
Out of your bawdy Pocket.

Pau.
As if you had not done the doe you came for!
What pretty wayes can Gentlemen find out
To save their moneys! 'Tis worth praise in some,
That have but little, or come hardly by't,
By travaile, study, or laborious toyle,

Deare shifts sometimes, and dangerous wayes with
hazard—

Hor.
Very good!

Pau.
But for you Gallants, that have, as it were
Wealth above wit borne with you, and still growing
Up with you, past the reach of your expences;
And never sweat, but for your exercise,
Or what your exercises bring you to!
For you to thinke your pleasures costly; faine
Excuse for petty fees, now the great charge
Is paid, and your desire satisfied—

Hor.
No more.

Pau.
Alas sir, what is a poore Duccatoun
After a thousand Duccats?—

Hor.
Ha' you done?

Pau.
Would you had not; 'lesse my reward were better.
See, see, the bed made smoth againe and all!
(O precious craft!) as here had nothing been!
Well would yee were all as wise in greater matters.

Hor.
Tis the Rogues humor: I will give him something
For abusing me. There's your Duccatoun
To worke more affability in your Mistris
Against my next approach.

Pau.
It seemes then yet
You are not cloyd with her deliciousnesse.

Hor.
Nor had one tast (I sweare by life and honour)
Of all my hopes, more then her Hand and Lips.

Pau.
Have you not in that a double meaning sir?

Hor.
I vow, for ought I know shee is a virgin.

Pau.
Y'have satisfied me, and perhaps my art
May in your absence worke a little for you.

Hor.
Thinke of me then.

Pau.
My profit pricks me to it.

Hor.
Respect it then, Adieu.

Exit.
Pau.
Serviteur Monsieur.
The feare of thee is past. I was almost
In a cold sweat: but all the danger now,
Lyes on the tother side o'th' house; my Don
My hot Goat-liver'd Diego, should he now
Discharge his Pistols on her, they would prove
More forcible then Cannon-shot on me.
Enter Pedro Victoria.
Faith quit me of suspect. How big hee lookes!
As if he scorn'd repulse. If he grow violent
I'le bring the Duchman in to coole his pride,
And set them by the eares for our Low Countries.

Exit.
Ped.
I have not in all Spaine (where Majesty
Enthroned sits upon the brow of beauty,
And crowne the Ladies with prerogative
'Bove all the women of the Earth) incountred
With such a scorne, as here. Discourteous woman,
Worthlesse and ignorant of the weighty trust
Was tenderd to thee in my blood and honour.

Vic.

Your blood and honour, will not feed or cloath
mee.

Ped.
I will not charge a word more with a mouth
So full of rudenes, and mechanick basenesse.

Vic.
Not upon my submission sir?

Ped.
It must be great and sodaine if it move me.

Vic.
Hee lookes that I should kneele and beg a Kisse.

Ped.
Why seeke you not to expiate your trespasse
By tender of your selfe to my embraces?

Vic.
I cannot doe't: My virgin Modesty
Denyes that freedome.

Ped.
I'le no more delay,
I see tis only force must conquer you.

Vic.
You will not ravish me! within there! help!

Enter Paulo, Jacconetta.
Pau.
What! is the great some tender'd?
Doe you want hands to tell your money Mistris?

Vi.
No, to take off the hands of Rape and Outrage
This proud imperious Spaniard grip'd me with.

Pau.
Signior you must not gripe nor grope here
Under the sum prefix'd; two thousand Duccats.
We have arithmetique to receave them by
In your own Pistolets, or peeces of Eight
In Rialls, if you please; but not one single one
To be abated, my most thrifty Don;
Whom I cannot abuse enough me thinks,
I have seene one in your shape so well presented.

Ped.
Villaine, i'le have thee whipp'd for this affront,
Thy fault is punishable by the Law.

Pau.
Not in defence of honour deare Don Tarquin.
Preventing Rape and Murder.

Ped.
Villaine die.

He drawes Pistoll.
Pau.
Not at this distance sir,
Besides here's ayd.

Enter Swatzenburgh.
Swa.
Hence you Muskitta. Give a look more this way
I'le force thee take thy wings out at the window.

Ped.
Borne down by Bravoes! let the place protect ye,
By my few minutes patience. My revenge
Shall shortly speake in thunder.

Swa.
Hold your peace;
And vent not here your lowd Rodomontadoes
Lest I spit lightning.

Ped.
Well sir I am silent.

Pau.
Be so my politique

Don.
This Hans has snapt her;
The Dutch man carries her from your great claime:
And this may be an ominous portent
Against your title to the Netherlands,
It may hold in the great worke sir, as well
As in this small assay.

Ped.
Abus'd and Jeer'd!

Pau.
Nor they heare me not my noble Signior,
I'le tell you for your satisfaction
This Alinanie is a youoker that would marry her,
And shee nor I durst beare it otherwise,
(Knowing by chance he slipp'd into the house,
And overheard us) when you come againe
I will informe you further, you shall finde
My information worthy of a fee.

Ped.
Take from my hand a peece of foure Gazetts.

Pau.
That's three pence sterling, you are bounteous sir,
So, now, looke bigge and vanish.

Exit Pedro.
Vic.
I have not sir, in my short story strayd
In the least sillable from truth, and were
The eyes of all the world fix'd upon
My seeming Levity, my mind should be
Still constant as the center to that end
Reserv'd in my free thoughts.

Swa.
Why was the sum, then, of two thousand duccats
Proclaim'd the price of your virginity?

Vic.
To keep the flesh flies off, you know my aime sir.

Swa.
I find the noble Lady; nor can I
Further attempt a breach upon your honor.

Vic.
Upon those termes I pray sir be my Guest,
I have by this time a slight Dinner staying.

Swa.
You favours make me bold.

Vic.
See all in readinesse Jacconet.

Exit Jac.
Swa.
I'le drinke a frolick Lady;
Mirth and good wine take me: My loose desire
Is to chast love refin'd by Vesta's fire.

Exit.
Pau.
Am I a prophet? sure the Dutchman's tane
In a chast snare indeed. I did but forge it
For an excuse to calme and rid the Spaniard,
And he seemes to prevent my fiction: yet
Presumption shall not sway me. Womens wiles
Are oft times past prevention, and men catch
Sence of the wrongs, which to prevent they watch.

Exeunt Omnes.