 | Humour out of breath |  |
ACTVS TERTIVS.
Enter Page and Florimell.Pa.
Sweet hony candy madam, if it be no forfeit to tell tales
out of Cupids free schoole, tell what proficient your louer
Aspero proues.
Flo.
Now so loue helpe me lot, a passing weake one and verye
vnready.
Pag.
The better, for women would haue their louers vnreadye
to choose.
Flo.
How ready you are to play the knaue? but to Asperot
Pa.
I do not thinke but thers good musick in him, your tongue
harps so much vpon his name.
Flo.
J shall neuer forget him.
Pa.
I faith Lady then I know what J know.
Flo.
What do you know I pray?
Marry that if you neuer forget him, you shall euer remember
him, was he neuer in your chamber?
Flo.
Yes, but he shewed himselfe the strangest foole: And by
my troth loe. J am sorry for't to, J had as good an appetite to
maintaine discourse; but here a comes, if euer I choose a man by
the fulnesse of his Calfe, or a cock by the crowing, looke and the
bashfull foole do not blush already.
Pa.
You may do well to kisse him, and make him bold Madam.
Pa
Boy, go know what strange gentleman that is.
Asp.
Slid what a strange Lady's this? madam though I seeme a
stranger to you, J lay with one last night that's well acquainted
with you.
Elo.
Acquainted with me?
Asp.
And knowes you, and loues you, and you loue him, & haue
bestowed kind fauours of him to.
Flo.
I bestow fauors? what fauours?
Asp.
Though twere but a triflle he tooke it as kindly as some
would haue done a kisse.
Flo.
Lord what a while this iest has bin a brooding? and it proues
but addle too now it is hatched.
Asp.
Tis a pig of your owne sow madam, and I hope your wit
will bestow the nursing of it.
Flo.
So it had need, I thinke tis like to haue but a drie nurse of
yours.
Pa.
O drie ieast, all the wit in your head will scarce make sippits
in't, what a ground? and such a faire landing place? get a shore, or
be rankt amongst fooles for euer.
Flo.
And faith ist not pitty such a proper man should keep company
with a foole.
Asp.
I keepe company with none but you Lady.
Flo.
You keepe mine against my will.
Asp.
So do I the fooles I protest; but take away yours, ile soone
shift away the fooles.
Pag.
I haue not seene a foole so handsomely shifted in Venice.
But come, shall the foole and you bee friends?
Flo.
The foole and J? y'are too familiar.
Asp.
Why, J hope a foole may be a Ladies familiar at all times.
Flo.
Come y'are too saucy.
Asp.
Indeed tis a fooles part of Ioue to be in the sauce afore my
Lady; otherwise I am neither foole nor saucy.
Flo.
Not, proude sir?
Asp.
Not, coy Lady; come why should your tongue make so
many false fiers that neuer come from your heart: you loue me, I
know you loue me, your spirit, your looke, your countenance bewrayes
it.
Flo.
You ieast.
Asp.
Jn earnest you do, and you shall know't in earnest too, lend
me this iewell.
Flo.
Iewell? away you sharking companion.
Asp.
How?
Flo.
Wandring strauagant, that like a droane flies humming
from one land to another.
Pa.
Slight and thou hast any wit, now shew her thy sting.
Flo.
And lightst vpon euery dayry maid and kitchen-wench.
Asp.
And now and then on a Ladies lip as—
Flo.
You did of mine you would say, and J am hart sory you can
say it, and when by your buzzing flattery, you haue suckt the
smallest fauour from them, you presently make wing for another.
Asp.
Marry buz.
Flo.
Double the zard and take the whole meaning for your labour.
Pa.
The buzzards wit's not so bald yet I tro.
Asp.
A word in your eare, madam the buzzard will anger you.
Flo.
VVith staying you do.
Asp.
VVith going I shall.
Flo.
Away.
Asp.
I away, neuer intreat, tis too late, if you send after me, I wil
not come back, if you write to me, I will not answer, drowne your
eyes in teares, I will not wipe them, breake your heart with
if you speake, tis too late, if you intreate, tis bootles, if you hang
vpon me, tis needlesse, I offred loue & you scornd it, my absence
will be your death, and I am proud ont.
Exit.
Flo.
Js he gon boy?
Pa.
Yes faith Madam.
Flo.
Cleane out of sight?
Pag.
And out of mind to, or els you haue not the mind of a true
woman.
Flo.
Thou readst a false comment boy, call him againe; yet doe
not, my heart shall breake ere it bend.
Pa.
Or els it holdes not the true temper of woman hood, but
faith tell me Madam, do you loue him?
Flo.
As a Welchman doth toasted cheese, I cannot dine without
him, hee's my pillow I cannot sleep quietly without him; my rest,
I cannot liue without him.
Pa.
O that he knew it Lady.
Flo.
He does, he would neuer haue left me els, he does.
Pa.
You calld him foole, but me thinks he prooues a physitian,
has found the disease of your liuer, by the complexion of your
lookes, but see he returnes.
Enter Aspero meditating.
Flo.
And now me thinks J loath him more then I lou'd him goe
run for Hortensio my guardian, bid him come armd, thet's intent
of treason tell him.
Pa.
My Lady cannot choose but dance well, shees so full of prety
changes.
Exit.
Flo.
I wonder you dare come in my sight, considering the wrong
you did me.
Asp.
I came I confesse, but with no intent to see you J protest,
and that shall be manifested by the shortnes of my stay.
Flo.
Tis too long and twere shorter then tis, will he not court
me? not? nor speak to me neither? nay neuer ask pardon, tis to late,
we shal ha'you come to my window one of these mornings with
my sight I hate thee, worse then I loath painting, I hate thee, out
of my sight.
Asp.
Inough, will you be a quiet woman yet? will you, speake afore
my resolue take strength? will you, do but say you are sorry I
aske no mends but a kisse, kindly, come: shall I hat'e?
Flo.
Ile kisse a toad first.
Asp.
You will, remember this another time, a toade you will:
J know thou lou'st me, and J see the pride of thy humour; I doe,
and thou shalt know I doe; halfe an hower hence wee shall haue
you weeping on your knees, with O my Aspero would I had died
when I reiected thee, but doe, weepe till J pitty thee; a tooad! ile
make thee creepe on thy knees for a kisse.
Flo.
you will.
Asp.
Thy bare knees, J will, and goe without it to.
Flo.
Out humourd? O I would sell my part of immortality.
Asp.
But to touch my hand, thou wouldst, I know thou woldst.
Flo.
O how spleene swells mee? helpe Hortensio, creepe a my
knees? Hotensio.
Enter Hortensio with his man Assistance.
Hort.
How fares my beautious charge? weeping Lady? the law
shall fetch red water from his veynes that hath drawne bloud of
your eies, is this the traytor?
Asp.
Traytor? in thy disloyall throte thou liest.
Pa.
O monstrous, a wishes you choakt my Lord.
Hort.
How? choakt?
Pa.
I choakt? for a wishes the traytor in your throate, and hee's
a very small traytor that is not able to choake a wiser man then
your Lordship.
Hort.
Downe with him.
Pa.
I, downe with him, if he stick in your throat, and spare not.
Flo.
Do not kill him, though hee deserues death yet doe not kill
him, onely disweapon him; so.
Hor.
But madam.
Flo.
I will not heare him, keepe him; but keepe him safe on your
ile haue your heads for't.
they bind him.
Hort.
I warne you madam, if yrons will hold him.
Flo.
Fie, fie, with a cord? here, bind him with my scarfe, that wil
hold, and yet stand away, ile doo't my selfe, I cannot trust him
with you, least you should let him sometime scape free: besides,
you cannot vse him according to the quality of his offence, and
because ile glory in his bondage my chamber shall bee his prison,
let him haue neither light meat nor drinke, but what J prouide
him my selfe.
Hort.
Your will's a law, we obey it madam.
Asp.
She knowes me sure; well, though my ioyes be thrall,
My comforts this, a speedy death ends all.
Exit with Hort. and Ass.
Flo.
Oh you are not gone then.
Page.
Heer's a newe kinde of courting, neuer seene before J
thinke.
Flo.
He would anger me.
Pa.
Nay you take a course, to anger him first J thinke.
Flo.
Should J haue let him go, (as I could no other way detaine
him in modesty) and he had set his loue on some other, t'would
haue fretted my hart strings a sunder.
Pa.
Why did you set him so light then?
Flo.
Not for any hate, but in pride of my humour.
Page.
VVhy did you commaund him close prisoner to your
chamber.
Flo.
That I may feede mine eie with the sight of him, and be
sure no other beauty can rob me of his company: I will ha't all,
I will not loose an ynch of him: And in this, I but imitate our Italian
dames, who cause their friends to clap their iealous husbands
in prison, that if they haue occasion to vse them within fortie
weekes and a day, they may surely know where to find them.
Exit.
Pa.
If I had any knauery in mee, as J am all honesty, I could
make a notable sceane of mirth betwixt these two Amorists.
Anth.
Early sorrow, art got vp so soone?
What? ere the Sun ascendeth in the East?
O what an early waker art thou growne?
But cease discourse, and close vnto thy worke;
Vnder this drooping mirtle will I sit,
And worke a while vpon my corded net;
And as I worke, record my sorrowes past,
Asking old Time, how long my woes shall last:
And first, but stay alas what do J see?
Moist gum like teares, drop from this mournfull tree
And see, it sticks like birdly me; twill not part;
Sorrow is euen such birdlyme at my hart.
Alas poore tree, dost thou want company?
Thou dost, J see't, and J will weepe with thee,
Thy sorrowes make thee dumb, and so shall mine.
It shall be tongueles, and so seeme like thine;
Thus will J rest my head vnto thy barke,
Whilst my sighes tell my sorrowes; harke tree, harke.
Enter Hippolito and Francisco.
Fr.
Fie, fie, how heauy is light loue in me?
Hip.
How slow runs swift desire?
Fr.
This leaden ayre,
This pondrous feather, merry Melancholy.
Hip.
This passion, which, but in passion
Hath not his perfect shape.
Fr.
And shapelesse loue
Hath in his watch of loue oreslept himselfe.
Hip.
Then sleepy wakers, let these graue lets wander
And waite th'ascension of beauties wonder:
But stay, a man striuing twixt life and death.
Fr.
Nay then tis so, my heauenly loue's gone by,
And struck him dead with her loue-darting eye.
Hip.
It speech-bereauing loue will let thee speake,
Then speechles man, speake with the tongue of loue,
Seeking Endimion in these flowry dales.
Anth.
Dales for Endimion and faire Cynthia fit,
But neuer heauenly goddesse blest this groue,
These woods are consecrate to griefe, not loue.
Fr.
Out Atheist, thou prophan'st loues deity,
For, false-reporter, I in them haue seene
A loue that makes a Negro of Loues Queene:
One that when as the sunne keeps holliday,
Hir beauty clads him in his best array.
Anth.
Now truly shepheard none such soiourn here
Please you suruey the Cell, go in and see,
I'me hearst, and none but sorrowe lies with me.
Enter Lucida.
Fra.
Call you this sorrowes caue?
Hip.
Rather a Cell,
Enter Octauio & whisper with Antonio.
Where pleasure growes, and none but Angels dwell.
Fra.
To what compare shall I compare thee to?
Vncomparable beauties Paragon.
Hip.
I will compare her beauty to the sunne,
For her bright lustre giues the morning light.
Fr.
Jle say she is like Cynthia when day's done,
Or Lady to the mistrisse of the night.
Hip.
O speake but to me, and J shall be blest.
Fr.
One smile would lay my iarring thoughts at rest.
Enter Hermia.
Her.
How now faire sister? you are hard beset.
Hip.
Nymph.
Fr.
Goddesse.
Hip.
Saynt, once more, y'are both well met.
Fra.
O she is faire.
Hip.
She fairer.
Fra.
Both more faire
Then rocks of pearle, or the chast euening ayre.
Hip.
Say sweet, intend you not to fish to day?
Her.
No, shepheards, now fish do not bite but play.
VVhat time, sweet loue, keepe fishes when they bite?
Luc.
Early ith'morning, or els late at night.
Hip.
Come, will you talke with me till time of fishing?
Her.
My father, sir, will chide if I be missing.
Oct.
The match is made, th'are euen vpon going.
Ant.
VVhat should we do?
Oct.
Why as poore parents and dutifull seruants should doe,
run amongst the bushes and catch flies.
Ant.
Stay forward daughters whether are yee going?
Her.
Father, I thinke these shepheards come a wooing.
Ant.
A wooing daughters? nere imagine so:
What man's so mad to marry griefe and woe?
Fra.
Why where liues sad griefe? heer's all speaking ioy.
Hip.
O I would liue and die with such annoy.
Ant.
But they are poore, and pouerty is despisde:
Hip.
No, they are faire, beauty is highly prizde.
Oct.
Twill be a match, they are beating the price already.
Ant.
They once were faire, sorrow from that hath changd them
They once knew wealth, but chance hath much estrangd them.
Fra.
Haue they bin faire? what fayrer then they are?
VVhy tis not possible, this heauenly faire
Hath only in it selfe beauties exceed,
O then rich, fayre, and onely selues exceed.
Ant.
Come daughters, and come shepheards, if you please,
Ile leade you to the lodge of little ease,
Where I will feast you with what cheere I may,
Griefe shall turne mirth, and keepe high holliday.
Exit cum filiabus.
The brothers going out Octauio staies them.
Oct.
A word with you, you meane to marry these wenches.
Ambo.
VVe doe.
Oct.
And are going to contract your selues.
Ambo.
VVe are.
Hip.
And what say you to this?
Oct.
God speede you: I would haue you marry on saint Lukes
day.
VVhy?
Oct.
Because J would offer at your wedding.
Fr.
Come, th'art all enuy, feed vpon thy hate,
This day our quest of loue shall terminate.
Exeunt manet Octauio,
Oct.
Not if J liue, this maladie of loue,
Js grown so strong, it will not be driuen out,
To see the folly of a doating father;
What toyle I had to fashion them to loue,
And how tis doubled to misfashion them.
They shall not wed, yet how shall J preuent it?
Fearing th'euent I haue forethought a meanes,
And here it lies, swaggering becomes not age,
Now like the Fox, ile goe a pilgrimage.
Frollick my boyes, I come to mar your sport,
Your Country musicke must not play at Court.
But first, ile write back to Hortensio
For apprehension of yong Aspero:
They haue not yet dynde, ile bid my selfe their guest
Religion beg? a fashion in request.
Exit.
Enter Aspero and his boy.
Asp.
Art sure she hates me boy.
Boy.
More then hir death, J haue bin in hir bosome sir, and this
day she intends your execution.
Asp.
My execution! the reason of hir hate?
Boy.
Hir humour, nothing but a kind of strange crosse humor in
that you reiected hir loue.
Asp.
Thats not capitall.
Boy.
Not to crosse a great ones humour? no treason more great
personages humours are puritanes, thei'l as liue indure the diuel
as soone as a crosse, and can away with him better.
Asp.
I will submit, aske pardon on my knee.
Boy.
Is your proud humour come down ifaith, your high humor
that would not stoop an ynch of the knees; ile help't vp againe,
and't be but to vphold the ieast; I must bring her as low ere I
haue done; O base, J woulde rather lay my necke vnder the
Axe of her hate, then my sporte vnder the feete of
make her vpstart humor stoope gallant too.
Asp.
Ile hold thee my best iewell and thou dost.
Boy.
And pawne me as poore Lords do their iewells too, will
you not? receiue me; you shall counterfet your selfe dead.
Asp.
The life of that ieast.
Boy.
It may be she dissembles all this while, loues you, and puts
on this shew of hate of purpose to humble you: she may, and I
beleeue—
Asp.
What?
Boy.
That most intelligencers are knaues, and some women dissēblers;
being thought dead (as let me alone to buz that into the
credulous eare of the Court) if she haue any sparkes of loue, theil
kindle and flame bright through the cinders of her hart.
Asp.
If not,
Boy.
If not, twill be a meanes for your escape: ile say you requested
ar your death to be buried at your natiue Citty: and what
Courtier, if a Christian can deny that?
Asp.
I am all thine, my humor's thy patient.
Boy.
And if I do not kill it, I am not worthy to be your physitian.
Exeunt.
Enter Florimell and hir Page.
Pa.
I mary Lady; why now you credit your sex: a womans honor
or humour should be like a ship vnder sayle, split her keele
ere she vaile.
Enter Boy.
Flo.
Ile split my heart ere my humor strike saile: here comes his
Page, how now boy? how doth your master.
Boy.
Well madam he.
Flo.
VVell?
Boy.
Very well.
Flo.
VVhere is he?
Boy.
VVhere none of your proude sex will euer come, I thinke:
in heauen.
Flo.
Is he dead?
Boy.
See madam, and seeing blush, and blushing shame, that
your vngentle humor should be the death of so good and generous
Discouer Aspero lying on a Table seeming dead.
Flo.
My Aspero dead!
Boy.
See madam, what a mutation
Flo.
I see too much, and curse my proud humour that was the
cause of it: Aspero, kind soule, proud sullen Florimell, disdainefull
humor, that in one minute hast eternally vndone me: I would not
kisse the liuing substance, that being dead doate on thy picture:
oh I lou'd thee euer with my soule: O let me kisse this shrowd of
beauty: I would not accept thee liuing, that being dead on my
knees adore thee: could kisses recouer thee, I would dwell on thy
lips: kneele till my knees grew to the ground, deere gentle Aspero
she that procurde thy death will die with thee,
Aspero starts vp.
Asp.
I take you at your word Lady:
Nay neuer recant, I haue witnes on't now: is your proud humor
come downe? could you not haue said so at first? and sau'd me a labour
of dying?
Flo.
Liues Aspero?
Asp.
Liue quotha? sfoot what man would bee so mad to lye in
his colde graue alone, and may lie in a warme bed with such a
beautifull wife as this will be? haue I tane your humour napping
yfaith?
Flo.
Am I ore reacht?
Asp.
In your humour Madam, nothing els, and I am as proude
on't.
Flo.
Do not flowt me; and you doe, I shall grow into my humour
againe.
Asp.
In ieast.
Flo.
In earnest I shall, and then I know what I know.
Asp.
You may: but and you do, I shall die againe.
Flo.
In ieast.
Asp.
Nay in earnest madam, and then—
Flo.
No more, thou hast driuen mee cleane out of conceite with
my humor, I loue thee, I confesse it, shalt be my husband, ile liue
VVhat more I meane is coated in my looke,
If thou acceptst it, sweare,
Asp.
I kisse the booke.
Flo.
Boy, run to the master of my Gundelo, and will him attend
me after supper at the garden staires, I meane to take the euening
ayre, tell him.
Pa.
It shall be done madam.
Exit.
Flo.
Nay if I say the word, it shall be done Aspero
Boy.
Look to your selfe my Lord, I lay my life, my Lady means
to steale you away to night.
Asp.
Away? ile call Hortensio, ile not be accessary to your fellony
madam.
Enter Hortensio and his man Assistance with a letter.
Flo.
The foole comes without calling.
Ass.
You shall know him by these signes.
Hort.
Good figure, very good figure, for as the house is found
out by the signe, so must this traytor be sented out by the token,
vp with the first signe good Assistance.
Ass.
A proper man without a beard.
Hor.
How? a proper man without a beard? we shall scarce finde
that signe in all Venice: for the propernesse of a man liues altogether
in the fashion of his beard, good Assistance the next.
Ass.
Faire spoken and well conditioned.
Hort.
More straunge: you shall haue many proper men fayre-spoken,
but not one amongst twenty well condicioned, but soft,
this should be the house by the signe, I must pick it out of him by
wit.
Flo.
As good say steale my Lord, what mary-bone of witte is
your iudgement going to pick now?
Hort.
I must, like a wise Iustice of peace, picke treason out of
this fellow.
Flo.
Treason?
Hort.
I, treason madam; know you this hand?
Flo.
My roiall fathers:
Hor.
Then whilst you and your fathers letters talke togither, let
Asp.
My propernes sir contents me: for my beard, indeed that
was bitten the last great frost, and so were a number of Justices
of peace besides.
Hort.
Tis rumourd about the Court that your name is Aspero.
Asp.
I am call'd Aspero.
Hor.
Sonne to the Duke of Mantua that was.
Asp.
The duke of Mantuaes sonne that is.
Hort.
Then the Duke of Mantua has a traytor to his sonne, lay
hands of him and to close prison with him.
Flo.
Can he be closer then in my custody?
Hort.
I do not thinke so madam, but your father has imposde
the trust vpon me.
Flo.
And dare not you trust mee?
Hor.
With my head if you were my wife, but not with my profit,
if you were my mother: will you along sir?
Asp.
VVith all my heart sir, see what your humour's come to
now go my Lord? as willingly as a slaue from the gallies: for as I
shall haue a stronger prison, so J shall bee sure of a kinder and a
wiser iaylor.
Flo.
Do you obserue how he flowts you my Lord? that I had bin
his keeper but one night longer: but keepe him close, if he escape
(though against thy will) as I am a mayd,
Hort.
A maide against your will.
Flo.
Shalt pay as deere for't as thou didst for thy office.
Hort.
If he scape, hang me.
Exit & As. with Aspero.
Flo.
I shall wish thee hangd, if he do not: treason! I may thanke
my peeuish humor fort.
Enter Page.
Page.
Madam the Gundelo is ready.
Flo.
Thou bringst physicke when the patient's dead boy: our
ieast's turnd earnest.
Pa.
Is a dead in earnest?
Flo.
As good, or rather worse, hee's buried quick.
Pa.
O madam, many a good thing has bin buried quick and suruiu'd
againe, I would bee buried quicke my selfe, and I might
Flo.
Hee's buried in close prison boy, hee's knowne for the
duke of Mantuaes sonne, and by my fathers letter attached for a
traytor.
Pa.
Good gentleman, and I be not sorrie for him: who is his
keeper?
Flo.
The testie asse Hortensio.
Pa.
Vdsfoot lets enlarge him.
Flo.
Not possible boy.
Pa.
Not possible 'tis weele cousen his keeper.
Flo.
We cannot.
Pa.
Cannot! we can: your father made a Lord of him, but be rul'd
by me, his daughter shall make a foole of him: you are not the
first woman has made a foole of a wiser Lord then he is.
Flo.
Shall he be cousend?
Pa.
As palpably as at the Lotterie, my brains are in labour of the
stratagem alreadie.
Exeunt.
| Humour out of breath | |