Innoc.
Ist possible Captaine, and me thinks it stands a little.
Quint.
No matter for that, your best mettald blades will stand soonest: so, now we haue attaind our Mansion house. At which Ile sing a verse shall breake the dores. O noble
Hercules, let no S [...]ygian lake.
Te dan dan tidle, te dan de dan tidle didle, &c.
Farewell scrapers, your reward now shall be that I will not cut your strings nor breake your sidles, via, away.
Innoc.
Come Captaine, lets enter, I long to see my Mistris, I warrant shee’s a heauy Gentlewoman for your absence.
Quint.
S’fut she’s an Asse, honour wooes me, preferment cals me, and I must lye pampred in a wenches lap, because shee dotes on me. Honour saies no, Lieftenant, Pugna pro patria, we must too’t yfaith and seeke our portion amongst the scratcht faces.
Lorenzo
within.
Mistris, Mistris, is he gone?
Quint.
Whoe’s that cais there?
Innoc.
I heard no body.
Quint.
No? there was one cald Mistris: I say who cald Mistris, s’blood I hope I am not drunke.
Fann.
In truth sir I heard no body.
Quint.
I tell thee I smelt a voice here in my entry, s’fut Ile make it smell worse and’cheare it againe.
Innoc.
O me, hee’ll draw vpon his owne shaddow in this humour, if it take the wall of him. Follow him Fannio, looke he doe no harme for God sake.
Lor.
Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Innoc.
Name of God, what’s there to doe?
(Enter Quintil. and Lorenzo.)
Lor.
Good Captaine doe not hurt me.
Quint.
Sounds is hell broke loose? why Snaile, though you can sing songs and doe things Snaile, I must not allow yee to creepe into my wiues cole-house, what Snaile into my withdrawing chamber?
Lor.
I beseech your Worship heare me speake.
Quint.
O Snaile, this is a hard case; no roome serue your turne, but my wiues cole-house, and her other house of office annext to it? a priuy place for her selfe, and me sometimes, and will you vse it being a stranger? s’light how comes this about? vp sirha and call your Mistris.
Lor.
A plague of all disguises.
Exit Fannio.
Innoc.
Alas poore Snaile, what didst thou make here?
Lor.
I protest sir for no harme, my Mistris cald me in to sweepe her chimney, and because I did it not to her minde, shee made me doe pennance in her cole-house.
Innoc.
Search him Captaine and see, if he haue stolen nothing.
Lor.
Kill me, hang me, if I haue.
Quint.
Yes Snaile, and besides I heare complaints of you, y’are an old luxurious hummerer about wenches Snaile, does this become your grauity sir? Lieftenant, fetch me a cole-sacke, Ile put him in it and hang him vp for a signe.
Lor.
I beseech your Worship be good to me.
Innoc.
Good Captaine pardon him, since he has done nothing but swept your chimney worse then my Mistris would haue it swept, he will doe it better another time.
Quint.
Well Snaile, at this Gentlemans request, (to whom I can denie nothing) I release you for this once, but let me take you no more thus I aduise you.
Lor.
Not while I liue good Captaine.
Quint.
Hence, trudge you d [...]udge, goe away.
Lor.
A plague of all disguises.
Exit Lorenzo.
(Enter Fannio.)
Fann.
I haue look’t about all the house for my Mistris sir, but I cannot finde her.
Quint.
Goe then, looke all about the towne for her too; come in Lieftenant, lets repose a little after our liquor.
Exeunt.
Enter Aurelio and Aemilia, aboue.
Aur.
DEare life, be resolute, that no respect
Heighted aboue the compasse of your loue,
Depresse the equall comforts it retaines;
For since it finds a firme consent in both,
And both our births and yeares agree so well,
If both our aged parents should refuse,
For any common obiect of the world,
To giue their hands to ours, let vs resolue
To liue together like our liues and soules.
Aem.
I am resolu’d my loue; and yet alas,
So much affection to my fathers will
Consorts the true desires I beare to you,
That I would haue no sparke of our loue seene,
Till his consent be ask’d, and so your fathers.
Aur.
So runnes the mutuall current of my wish,
And with such staid and circumspect respects,
We may so serue and gouerne our desires,
That till fit obseruation of our fathers,
Preferre the motion to them; we may loue
Without their knowledge and the skill of any,
Saue only of my true friend Lodowicke.
Aem.
I wonder where he is.
Aur.
Not farre I know,
For in some place, he watcheth to preuent
The feared danger of your fathers presence.
Enter Lorenzo and Angelo running.
Ang.
SOunds stay for the loue of your honour sir.
Lor.
A plague of all disguises Angelo.
Ang.
What reason haue you to curse them? has not one of them kept you safe from the shame of the world, as much as a poore disguise might doe; but when your ridiculous feares will cast it off, euen while it is on, so running through the streets, that they rise all in an vprore after you▪ alas what is the poore disguise to blame sir?
Lor.
Well then fortune is to blame, or some thing; come as thou didst helpe to dawbe me, helpe to cleanse me, I prethee.
Ang.
Let alone a while sir for Gods sake, Ile goe see whether the Captaine be gone from home or no.
Lor.
Out vpon that course Angelo; I am frighted out of it, come enter my house, enter.
Ang.
What, will you enter your house sir afore you know who is in it: keepe your selfe close, and let me first enter and discouer.
Lor.
I know there is no body.
Ang.
You cannot know it sir, I heard euen now that diuers of the Senate were determin’d to come and sit in Counsell there.
Lor.
A tale, a very tale Angelo, enter for the loue of heauen, enter and vnsmother me.
Exit.
Ang.
What shall I doe? my poore Master is berai’d, O that same faithlesse Lodowicke, that could drowne the swaggering Captaine no better in his drunkennesse; alas how should I salue this?
Exit.
(Enter Lorenzo and after him Angelo.)
Lor.
How now? whom doe I see? my daughter and a yonker together? passion of death, hell and damnation, what lecherous capricorne raignes this vnhappy day? old and yong in a predicament? O fie of filthy sinne and concupiscence, I will conceale my rage a while that it may breake forth in fury; Ile shift me presently Angelo, and goe fetch the Prouost.
Ang.
O vnspeakable madnesse, will you for euer dishonour your daughter, and in her your selfe sir?
Lor.
Talke not to me, out vpon this abhominable concupiscence, the pride of the flesh, this witchcraft of the Diuell: talke not to me, iustice cries out an’t in the streets, and I will see it punish’t, come good Angelo to helpe to shift me.
Ang.
Ile follow you Sir instantly; Master, Master.
Aur.
Angelo? what newes?
Ang.
Miserable Master, cast downe your ladder, and come downe instantly.
Aem.
Alas, why, Angelo is my father comming.
Ang.
Let vs not talke but come downe I say.
Aur.
Deere life, farewell, wee’ll shortly meete againe,
So parts the dying body from the soule;
As I depart from my Aemilia.
Aem.
So enter frighted soules to the low world,
As my poore spirit vpon this soddaine doubt,
What may succeede this danger.
Ang.
Come away, you’ll be whipt anone for your amourosity, hast for shame hast, &c.
Aem.
Once more and euer, fare my deere life well.
Exit Aemil.
Ang.
Leaue your amorous congeis & get you in Dame▪ sir you and I will talke as ‘twere betwixt the pales, now, get you and shift you of this sute presently.
Aur.
Shift me Angelo? why man?
Ang.
Aske me no questions, but goe home and shift you presently, and when I haue done a little businesse here within, Ile come and tell you my deuice: there hath more chanc’t then you are aware of, and then I can stand to tell you; away therefore presently goe home and shift you.
Aur.
Very good sir, I will be ruld by you, and after lear [...]e the misteries.
Exit Aurel.
Ang.
Now will I let the little squire shift and cleanse himselfe without me, that he may be longer about fetching the Prouost, and in the meane time will I take my Masters sute (of which the little squire tooke note) and put it on my sweet heart Francischina, who shall presently come and supply my Masters place, with his Mistris; for the little squire amaz’d with his late affrights and this suddaine offencefull spectacle of his daughter, tooke no certaine note who it was that accosted her; for if he had, he would haue blam’d me for my Master, only the colour of his garment sticks in his fancie, which when he shall still see where he left it, he will still imagine the same person weares it, and thus shall his daughters honour and my Masters be preseru’d with the finest sugar of inuention. And when the little squire discouers my sweet heart, shee shall sweare, shee so disguised her selfe, to follow him, for her loue to him; ha, ha ha, O the wit of man when it has the winde of a woman.
Exit.
Enter Lodouico and Lucretia, with Rapiers fighting.
Lod.
HOld, hold, I pre thee hold; I yeeld my rapier,
Let my submission, my presumption salue.
Lucr.
Ignoble Lodwicke, should I take thy life,
It were amends too little for the wrong.
Lod.
O the precious heauens:
How was I gul’d? haud, hide thy selfe for shame.
And henceforth haue an eye before thy fingers.
Lucr.
Well do not ieast it out, for I protest
If this disguise, which my inhumane fate
Puts on my proper sexe, be by thy meanes
Seene through, by any other then thy selfe,
The quarrell twixt vs shall be more then mortall.
And thy dishonour to a friendlesse stranger
(Exild his natiue countrey, to remnine
Thrall to the mercy of such vnknowne miads
As fortune makes the rulers of my life)
Shall spread it selfe beyond my misery,
Lod.
Nay, mixe not cause of mirth with passion,
Do me the grace t’vnfold thy name and state,
And tell me what my whole estate may doe,
To salue this wrong vnwittingly I did thee?
And set the plantife thoughts of thy hard fate
In such peace, as my friendship may procure:
And if I faile thee, let Ioue fayle my soule,
When most this earth makes it need help of heaue¯.
Lucr.
In the more then temper my late rage
And show your vertues perfectly deriu’d
From the Venetian noblesse; for my name
It is Lucr [...]tio, which to fit this habit
I turn’d Lucretia: the rest that rests
To be related of my true estate,
Ile tell some other time: least now your presence
Might dumbly tell it (if it should be seene)
To all the world, or else make it suspect
My femall life of lightnesse: then with thanks
And vow of all true friendship, for th’amends
Your kindnesse makes me, take your sword againe,
And with it while I liue the power of mine
In any honor’d vse shall commaund.
Then till we meete, and may laugh at this error,
Ile once more trie the free peace of my chamber.
Exit.
Lod.
Do so sweet friend: a plague of Gingerly?
Where is that stale and fulsome Gingerly,
She brought me to a fury, Ile be sworne
Rather then man or woman: a flat beating:
I found her suppos’d mistresse fast asleepe,
Put her to the touchstone, and she prou’ a man.
He wak’t, and with a more then manly spirit
Flew in my face, and gaue me such a dash
In steed of kissing, of these licorish lips
That still my teeth within them bled I sweare
He spits.
Gengerly, Gingerly, a plague a you.
He spits againe.
But now how does my louers on the Tarrasse?
Enter Aurelio with Angelo, shifting his Apparell.
Aur.
HOld, take my dublet too, my hat and all, and quickly hie thee to thy sweete.
Ang.
S’ounds, see sir see, your proper Sentinell, that when you needed him, gaue you a slip.
Anr.
Friend Lodouico, by my life, well welcome to this my fathers backeside.
Lod.
Well sir, well, I would I had kist almost your fathers backeside so I had ne [...]er knowne it.
Ang.
A my life he faints extremely, he left you euen now to purchase him the amorous enteruiew of your fayre cuze Lucretia that lies heere.
Aur.
Gods me, sweete friend, would’st thou vse such a slight to any one that lay within my walke? who was thy meane to her?
Ang.
I lay my life, tame madam Temperance, the notorious Pandar.
Aur.
S’ [...]ut friend, wat a notorious ouersight was that? and what a violent iniury vnto thy friend?
Lod.
A plague vpon you both, you scuruy hinde, haue you no gull but me to whet your wit vpon?
Aur.
My friend a priuie louer? I’de haue sworne
Loue might spend all his shafts at butterflies
As well as at his bosome.
Ang.
’Twas your fault then,
For I haue noted a most faithfull league
Betwixt him and his barber now of late,
And all the world may see, he does not leaue
One haire on his smooth chinn, as who should say,
His haplesse loue was gone against the hayre.
Lod.
S’bloud & these rogues knew how I was deceiu’d,
They’d stout me into motley, by this light.
Ang.
Well sir, I euer thought y’ad the best wit
Of any man in Venice next mine owne,
But now Ile lay the bucklers at your feete,
Lod.
A poxe vpon thee, tame your bald hewed tongue,
Or by the Lord of heauen Ile pull it out.
Aur.
O my sweet friend, come Ile know more of this,
And tell thee all
our fortune, hence good Angelo.
Ang.
O, if this man had patience to his braine,
A man might load him till he smart againe.
Exit Ang.
Lod.
Patience worthy friend, hee knowes you loue him for his knauish wit.
Exeunt.
Enter Leonoro, Temperance and Lyonell.
Leo.
THou shalt not stay sweet Temperance, tell vs the manner of our warre and wee’ll leaue thee presently.
Temp.
Why that perl’s man Lodowicke, according to your appointment was iumpe at three with mee, iust, [...]eene full at your hower; Muffled as I wild you, ee’ne your fashion and your very leg for all the earth, and followed me in so gingerly, that by my troth I must needs say, he was worthy the pleasuring; but in what a taking was I when I perceiued his voyce? & when I saw my mistresse & he together by the eares?
Leo.
What did thy mistesse fight with him?
Temp.
O king a heauen, she ranne vpon his naked weapon the most finely that euer liu’d, and I ran away in a swoone for feare.
Leo.
Has she a good courage?
Lio.
It seemes she is too honest for our companies, a little more good Temperance.
Temp.
And when he saw me, he call’d me punke, and pandor, and doxie, & the vilest nicknames as if I had ben an arrand naughty-packe.
Leo.
’Tis no matter Temperance, hee’s knowne and thou art knowne.
Temp.
I thanke heauen for it, and ther’s all indeed, I can stay no longer.
Exit.
Leo.
Farewell honest Temperance: how was it possible, Lodouico should fit all these circumstances without the confederacy and trechery of this beldam? well Lodouico must satisfie this doubt when I see him.
Lio.
That will be at the May night shew at Signior Honorios.
Leo.
I would not meet him there, I shall offend him, but there I must needs be, and haue thee disguis’d like a woman.
Lio.
Me sir?
Leo.
No remedy, the Captain Quintilliano and I haue deuis’d it to gull his Lieutenant: for thou shalt dance with him, we will thrust him vpon thee, and then for his courting and gifts, which we will tell him he must win thee withall, I hope thou wilt haue wit enough to receiue the tone, and pay him againe with the tother, come Lionell let me see how naturally thou canst play the woman.
Exit.
Lio.
Better then you thinke for.
Enter Quintiliano and Innocentio.
Quint.
COme Lientenant, this nap has set a nap of sobriety vpon our braines, now lets sit heere & consult, what course were best for vs to take in this dangerous mansion of mans life.
The Complete Poetical Works of George Chapman Page 197
