220 Banquets abroad by torchlight; music, sports,
Bare-headed vassals, that had ne’er the fortune
To keep on their own hats, but let horns wear ’em;
Nine coaches waiting – hurry, hurry, hurry.
Castiza. Ay, to the devil.
Vindice. [Aside] Ay, to the devil – to th’duke by my faith.
Mother. Ay, to the duke: daughter you’d scorn to think o’th’
Devil and you were there once.
Vindice. True, for most there are as proud as he for his heart i’faith.
Who’d sit at home in a neglected room,
230 Dealing her short-lived beauty to the pictures
That are as useless as old men, when those
Poorer in face and fortune than herself,
Walk with a hundred acres on their backs,
Fair meadows cut into green foreparts – oh,
It was the greatest blessing ever happened to women;
When farmers’ sons agreed and met again
To wash their hands, and come up gentlemen.
The commonwealth has flourished ever since.
Lands that were mete by the rod, that labour’s spared:
240 Tailors ride down, and measure ’em by the yard.
Fair trees, those comely foretops of the field
Are cut to maintain head-tires. Much untold,
All thrives but chastity: she lies a-cold.
Nay shall I come nearer to you? mark but this:
Why there are so few honest women, but because ’tis the poorer profession. That’s accounted best, that’s best followed; least in trade, least in fashion; and that’s not honesty, believe it, and do but note the love and dejected price of it:
250 ‘lose but a pearl, we search and cannot brook it.
But that once gone, who is so mad to look it?’
Mother. Troth, he says true.
Castiza. False, I defy you both.
I have endured you with an ear of fire.
Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face.
Mother, come from that poisonous woman there.
Mother. Where?
Castiza. Do you not see her? she’s too inward then.
Slave, perish in thy office: you heavens please
260 Henceforth to make the mother a disease
Which first begins with me; yet I’ve outgone you. Exit.
Vindice. [Aside] O angels, clap your wings upon the skies,
And give this virgin crystal plaudities!
Mother. Peevish, coy, foolish! But return this answer:
My lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure
Conducts him this way. I will sway mine own;
Women with women can work best alone. Exit.
Vindice. Indeed I’ll tell him so.
O more uncivil, more unnatural,
270 Than those base-titled creatures that look downward:
Why does not heaven turn black, or with a frown
Undo the world? why does not earth start up,
And strike the sins that tread upon’t? oh:
Wer’t not for gold and women, there would be no damnation;
Hell would look like a lord’s great kitchen without fire in’t.
But, ’twas decreed before the world began,
That they should be the hooks to catch at man. Exit.
Act 2
Scene 2
Enter lussurioso, with Hippolito, Vindice’s brother.
Lussurioso. I much applaud thy judgement: thou art well-read in a fellow,
And ’tis the deepest art to study man.
I know this, which I never learnt in schools,
The world’s divided into knaves and fools.
Hippolito. [Aside] Knave in your face, my lord behind your back.
Lussurioso. And I much thank thee, that thou hast preferred
A fellow of discourse, well-mingled,
And whose brain time hath seasoned.
Hippolito. True my lord,
10 We shall find season once I hope. [Aside] O villain!
To make such an unnatural slave of me, but –
[Enter Vindice, disguised.]
Lussurioso. Mass, here he comes.
Hippolito. [Aside] And now shall I have free leave to depart.
Lussurioso. Your absence, leave us.
Hippolito. Are not my thoughts true?
I must remove, but brother you may stay.
Heart, we are both made bawds a new-found way. Exit.
Lussurioso. Now, we’re an even number! A third man’s dangerous,
Especially her brother. Say, be free;
20 Have I a pleasure toward?
Vindice. Oh, my lord.
Lussurioso. Ravish me in thine answer, art thou rare,
Hast thou beguiled her of salvation
And rubbed hell o’er with honey? Is she a woman?
Vindice. In all but desire.
Lussurioso. Then she’s in nothing. I bate in courage now.
Vindice. The words I brought
Might well have made indifferent honest naught.
A right good woman in these days is changed
30 Into white money with less labour far;
Many a maid has turned to Mahomet,
With easier working; I durst undertake
Upon the pawn and forfeit of my life,
With half those words to flat a Puritan’s wife;
But she is close and good. Yet ’tis a doubt by this time? oh the mother, the mother!
Lussurioso. I never thought their sex had been a wonder
Until this minute. What fruit from the mother?
Vindice. [Aside] Now must I blister my soul, be forsworn,
40 Or shame the woman that received me first.
I will be true, thou livest not to proclaim;
Spoke to a dying man, shame has no shame.
My lord.
Lussurioso. Who’s that?
Vindice. Here’s none but I, my lord.
Lussurioso. What would thou haste utter?
Vindice. Comfort.
Lussurioso. Welcome.
Vindice. The maid being dull, having no mind to travel
50 Into unknown land, what did me I straight,
But set spurs to the mother? Golden spurs
Will put her to a false gallop in a trice.
Lussurioso. Is’t possible that in this
The mother should be damned before the daughter?
Vindice. Oh, that’s good manners my lord: the mother for her age must go foremost, you know.
Lussurioso. Thou’st spoke that true, but where comes in this comfort?
Vindice. In a fine place my lord: the unnatural mother,
60 Did with her tongue so hard beset her honour,
That the poor fool was struck to silent wonder.
Yet still the maid, like an unlighted taper,
Was cold and chaste, save that her mother’s breath,
Did blow fire on her cheeks. The girl departed,
But the good ancient madam, half-mad, threw me
These promising words, which I took deeply note of:
‘My lord shall be most welcome –’
Lussurioso. ’Faith, I thank her.
Vindice. ‘– when his pleasure conducts him this way.’
70 Lussurioso. That shall be soon, i’faith.
Vindice. ‘I will sway mine own.’
Lussurioso. She does the wiser; I commend her for’t.
Vindice. ‘Women with women can work best alone.’
Lussurioso. By this light and so they can, give ’em their due; men are not comparable to ’em.
Vindice. No that’s true, for you shall have one woman knit more in an hour than any man can ravel again in seven and twenty year.
Lussurioso. Now my desires are happy, I’ll make ’em freemen now.
80 Thou art a precious fellow, ’faith I love thee.
Be wise and make it thy revenue: beg, leg,
W
hat office couldst thou be ambitious for?
Vindice. Office, my lord? Marry, if I might have my wish I would have one that was never begged yet.
Lussurioso. Nay, then thou canst have none.
Vindice. Yes my lord, I could pick out another office yet, nay and keep a horse and drab upon’t.
Lussurioso. Prithee good bluntness, tell me.
90 Vindice. Why I would desire but this my lord: to have all the fees behind the arras, and all the farthingales that fall plump about twelve o’clock at night upon the rushes.
Lussurioso. Thou’rt a mad apprehensive knave; dost think to make any great purchase of that?
Vindice. Oh ’tis an unknown thing, my lord; I wonder ’t’as been missed so long.
Lussurioso. Well this night I’ll visit her, and ’tis till then
A year in my desires. Farewell, attend;
Trust me with thy preferment. Exit.
Vindice. My loved lord.
100 Oh, shall I kill him a th’ wrong side now? No!
Sword, thou wast never a back-biter yet.
I’ll pierce him to his face; he shall die looking upon me.
Thy veins are swelled with lust; this shall unfill ’em,
Great men were gods; if beggers could not kill ’em.
Forgive me heaven, to call my mother wicked.
Oh, lessen not my days upon the earth.
I cannot honour her, by this I fear me
Her tongue has turned my sister into use.
I was a villain not to be forsworn
110 To this our lecherous hope, the duke’s son;
For lawyers, merchants, some divines and all,
Count beneficial perjury a sin small.
It shall go hard yet, but I’ll guard her honour
And keep the ports sure. Enter Hippolito.
Hippolito. Brother, how goes the world? I would know news of you,
But I have news to tell you.
Vindice. What, in the name of knavery?
Hippolito. Knavery, ’faith.
This vicious old duke’s worthily abused:
120 The pen of his bastard writes him cuckold!
Vindice. His bastard?
Hippolito. Pray believe it, he and the duchess
By night meet in their linen; they have been seen
By stairfoot panders!
Vindice. Oh sin foul and deep;
Great faults are winked at when the duke’s asleep.
[Enter Spurio and servants.]
See, see here comes the Spurio.
Hippolito. Monstrous luxur!
Vindice. Unbraced; two of his valiant bawds with him.
130 O there’s a wicked whisper. Hell is in his ear.
Stay: let’s observe his passage – [They remain unobserved.]
Spurio. Oh, but are you sure on’t?
Servant. My lord, most sure on’t, for ’twas spoke by one
That is most inward with the duke’s son’s lust:
That he intends within this hour to steal
Unto Hippolito’s sister, whose chaste life
The mother has corrupted for his use.
Spurio. Sweet word, sweet occasion; ’faith then, brother:
I’ll disinherit you in as short time
140 As I was when I was begot in haste.
I’ll damn you at your pleasure; a precious deed
After your lust. Oh, ’twill be fine to bleed.
Come, let our passing out be soft and wary. Exeunt.
Vindice. Mark, there, there, that step now to the duchess.
This their second meeting writes the duke cuckold
With new additions; his horns newly revived.
Night! thou that look’st like funeral heralds’ fees
Torn down betimes i’th’ morning, thou hang’st fittly
To grace those sins that have no grace at all.
150 Now ’tis full sea abed over the world;
There’s juggling of all sides. Some that were maids
E’en at sunset are now perhaps i’th’ toll-book.
This woman in immodest thin apparel
Lets in her friend by water; here a dame
Cunning, nails leather hinges to a door,
To avoid proclamation.
Now cuckolds are a-coining: apace, apace, apace, apace!
And careful sisters spin that thread i’th’night
That does maintain them and their bawds i’th’day!
160 Hippolito. You flow well, brother.
Vindice. Puh, I’m shallow yet,
Too sparing and too modest. Shall I tell thee,
If every trick were told that’s dealt by night
There are few here that would not blush outright.
Hippolito. I am of that belief too.
Vindice. Who’s this comes? [Enter lussurioso.]
The duke’s son up so late! Brother, fall back,
[Hippolito hides.]
And you shall learn some mischief. My good lord.
Lussurioso. Piato, why the man I wished for. Come:
170 I do embrace this season for the fittest
To taste of that young lady.
Vindice. [Aside] Heart and hell.
Hippolito. [Aside] Damned villain.
Vindice. [Aside] I have no way now to cross it, but to kill him.
Lussurioso. Come, only thou and I.
Vindice. My lord, my lord.
Lussurioso. Why dost thou start thus?
Vindice. I’d almost forgot – the bastard!
Lussurioso. What of him?
180 Vindice. This night, this hour – this minute now!
Lussurioso. What? What?
Vindice. Shadows the duchess –
Lussurioso. Horrible word!
Vindice. And, like strong poison, eats
Into the duke your father’s forehead.
Lussurioso. Oh!
Vindice. He makes horn royal.
Lussurioso. Most ignoble slave!
Vindice. This is the fruit of two beds.
190 Lussurioso. I am mad!
Vindice. That passage he trod warily –
Lussurioso. He did?
Vindice. And hushed his villains every step he took.
Lussurioso. His villains? confound them!
Vindice. Take ’em finely, finely now.
Lussurioso. The duchess’ chamber door shall not control me!
Exeunt.
Hippolito. Good, happy, swift: there’s gunpowder i’th’ court,
Wild-fire at midnight in this heedless fury.
He may show violence to cross himself:
200 I’ll follow the event. Exit.
Act 2
Scene 3
[The Duke and Duchess in bed.] Enter again [lussurioso and Vindice].
Lussurioso. Where is that villain?
Vindice. Softly, my lord, and you may take ’em twisted.
Lussurioso. I care not how!
Vindice. Oh ’twill be glorious,
To kill ’em doubled, when they’re heaped. Be soft, my lord.
Lussurioso. Away, my spleen is not so lazy: thus and thus,
I’ll shake their eyelids ope, and with my sword
Shut ’em again for ever. Villain, strumpet!
Duke. You upper guard defend us!
10 Duchess. Treason, treason!
Duke. Oh take me not in sleep! I have great sins, I must have days,
Nay months, dear son, with penitential heaves
To lift ’em out, and not to die unclear.
O thou wilt kill me both in heaven and here!
Lussurioso. I am amazed to death.
Duke. Nay villain, traitor –
Worse than the foulest epithet – now I’ll grip thee
E’en with the nerves of wrath, and throw thy head
Amongst the lawyers. Guard!
Enter [Hippolito], Nobles and sons [Supervacuo and Ambitioso].
20 1 Noble. How comes the quiet of your grace disturbed?
Duke. T
his boy that should be myself after me,
Would be myself before me; and in heat
Of that ambition bloodily rushed in
Intending to depose me in my bed!
2 Noble. Duty and natural loyalty forfend!
Duchess. He called his father villain; and me strumpet,
A word that I abhor to ’file my lips with.
Ambitioso. That was not so well done, brother.
Lussurioso. I am abused. I know there’s no excuse can do me good.
30 Vindice. [Aside] ’Tis now good policy to be from sight.
His vicious purpose to our sister’s honour
Is crossed beyond our thought.
Hippolito. [Aside] You little dreamed his father slept here?
Vindice. [Aside] Oh ’twas far beyond me,
But since it fell so without frightful word –
Would he had killed him; would have eased our sword.
Duke. Be comforted, our duchess, he shall die.
[Vindice and Hippolito] dissemble a flight.
Lussurioso. Where’s this slave-pander now? Out of mine eye,
Guilty of this abuse.
Enter Spurio with his villains.
40 Spurio. Y’are villains, fablers,
You have knaves’ chins and harlots’ tongues, you lie,
And I will damn you with one meal a day!
1 Servant. O good my lord!
Spurio. ’Sblood, you shall never sup.
2 Servant. O, I beseech you sir.
Spurio. To let my sword catch cold so long and miss him.
1 Servant. Troth my lord – ’twas his intent to meet there.
Spurio. Heart he’s yonder.
Ha? what news here? Is the day out o’th’ socket
50 That it is noon at midnight, the court up?
How comes the guard so saucy with his elbows?
Lussurioso. The bastard here?
Nay then the truth of my intent shall out.
My lord and father hear me –
Duke. Bear him hence.
Lussurioso. I can with loyalty excuse –
Duke. Excuse? To prison with the villain,
Death shall not long lag after him.
Spurio. Good, i’faith; then ’tis not much amiss.
60 Lussurioso. Brothers, my best release lies on your tongues.
I pray persuade for me.
Ambitioso. It is our duties: make yourself sure of us.
Supervacuo. We’ll sweat in pleading.
Lussurioso. And I may live to thank you. Exeunt.
Ambitioso. No, thy death shall thank me better.
Spurio. He’s gone: I’ll after him
And know his trespass, seem to bear a part
In all his ills, but with a Puritan heart. Exit.
Ambitioso. Now brother, let our hate and love be woven
Five Revenge Tragedies: The Spanish Tragedy, Hamlet, Antonio's Revenge, The Tragedy of Hoffman, The Revenger's Tragedy (Penguin Classics) Page 35