LUS. Nay, then, I see thou’rt but a puisne40
In the subtle mystery of a woman.
Why, ’tis held now no dainty dish: the name
Is so in league with the age, that nowadays
It does eclipse three quarters of a mother.
VEN. Does it so, my lord?
Let me alone, then, to eclipse the fourth.
LUS. Why, well-said—come, I’ll furnish thee, but first
Swear to be true in all.
VEN. True!
LUS. Nay, but swear.
VEN. Swear?—I hope your honor little doubts my faith.
LUS. Yet, for my humor’s sake, ’cause I love swearing—
VEN. ’Cause you love swearing,—’slud,41 I will.
LUS. Why, enough!
Ere long look to be made of better stuff.
VEN. That will do well indeed, my lord.
LUS. Attend me.
Exit
VEN. O!
Now let me burst. I’ve eaten noble poison;
We are made strange fellows, brother, innocent villains!
Wilt not be angry, when thou hear’st on’t, think’st thou?
I’faith, thou shalt: swear me to foul my sister!
Sword, I durst make a promise of him to thee;
Thou shalt dis-heir him; it shall be thine honor.
And yet, now angry froth is down in me,
It would not prove the meanest policy,
In this disguise, to try the faith of both.
Another might have had the selfsame office;
Some slave that would have wrought effectually,
Ay, and perhaps o’erwrought ’em; therefore I,
Being thought travelled, will apply myself
unto the selfsame form, forget my nature,
As if no part about me were kin to ’em,
So touch42 ’em;—though I durst almost for good
Venture my lands in Heaven upon their blood.
Exit
SCENE IV
Enter Antonio, whose Wife the Duchess’ Youngest Son ravished, discovering her dead body to Hippolito, Piero, and Lords
ANT. Draw nearer, lords, and be sad witnesses
Of a fair comely building newly fallen,
Being falsely undermined. Violent rape
Has played a glorious act: behold, my lords,
A sight that strikes man out of me.
PIERO. That virtuous lady!
ANT. Precedent43 for wives!
HIP. The blush of many women, whose chaste presence
Would e’en call shame up to their cheeks, and make
Pale wanton sinners have good colors—
ANT. Dead!
Her honor first drank poison, and her life,
Being fellows in one house, did pledge her honor.
PIERO. O, grief of many!
ANT. I marked not this before—
A prayer-book, the pillow to her cheek:
This was her rich confection;44 and another
Placed in her right hand, with a leaf tucked up,
Pointing to these words—
Melius virtute mori, quam per dedecus vivere:45
True and effectual it is indeed.
HIP. My lord, since you invite us to your sorrows,
Let’s truly taste ’em, that with equal comfort,
As to ourselves, we may relieve your wrongs:
We have grief too, that yet walks without tongue;
Cura leves loquuntur, majores stupent.46
ANT. You deal with truth, my lord;
Lend me but your attentions, and I’ll cut
Long grief into short words. Last revelling night,
When torch-light made an artificial noon
About the court, some courtiers in the masque,
Putting on better faces than their own,
Being full of fraud and flattery—amongst whom
The duchess’ youngest son (that moth to honor)
Filled up a room, and with long lust to eat
Into my wearing,47 amongst all the ladies
Singled out that dear form, who ever lived
As cold in lust as she is now in death
(Which that step-duchess’ monster knew too well),
And therefore in the height of all the revels,
When music was heard loudest, courtiers busiest,
And ladies great with laughter—O vicious minute!
Unfit but for relation to be spoke of:
Then with a face more impudent than his vizard,
He harried her amidst a throng of panders,
That live upon damnation of both kinds,
And fed the ravenous vulture of his lust.
O death to think on’t! She, her honor forced,
Deemed it a nobler dowry for her name
To die with poison than to live with shame.
HIP. A wondrous lady! of rare fire compact;
She has made her name an empress by that act.
PIERO. My lord, what judgment follows the offender?
ANT. Faith, none, my lord; it cools, and is deferred.
PIERO. Delay the doom for rape!
ANT. O, you must note who ’tis should die,
The duchess’ son! she’ll look to be a saver:
“Judgment, in this age, is near kin to favor.”
HIP. Nay, then, step forth, thou bribeless officer:
[Draws sword]
I’ll bind you all in steel, to bind you surely;
Here let your oaths meet, to be kept and paid,
Which else will stick like rust, and shame the blade;
Strengthen my vow that if, at the next sitting,
Judgment speak all in gold, and spare the blood
Of such a serpent, e’en before their seats
To let his soul out, which long since was found
Guilty in Heaven—
ALL. We swear it, and will act it.
ANT. Kind gentlemen, I thank you in mine ire.
HIP. ’Twere pity
The ruins of so fair a monument
Should not be dipped in the defacer’s blood.
PIERO. Her funeral shall be wealthy; for her name
Merits a tomb of pearl. My Lord Antonio,
For this time wipe your lady from your eyes;
No doubt our grief and yours may one day court it,
When we are more familiar with revenge.
ANT. That is my comfort, gentlemen, and I joy
In this one happiness above the rest,
Which will be called a miracle at last;
That, being an old man, I’d a wife so chaste.
Exeunt
ACT II, SCENE I
Enter Castiza
CAS. How hardly shall that maiden be beset,
Whose only fortunes are her constant thoughts!
That has no other child’s part but her honor,
That keeps her low and empty in estate;
Maids and their honors are like poor beginners;
Were not sin rich, there would be fewer sinners;
Why had not virtue a revénue?48 Well,
I know the cause, ’twould have impoverished hell.
Enter Dondolo
How now, Dondolo?
DON. Madonna, there is one as they say, a thing of flesh and blood— a man, I take him by his beard, that would very desirously mouth to mouth with you.
CAS. What’s that?
DON. Show his teeth in your company.
CAS. I understand thee not.
DON. Why, speak with you, madonna.
CAS. Why, say so, madman, and cut off a great deal of dirty way;49 had it not been better spoke in ordinary words, that one would speak with me?
DON. Ha, ha! that’s as ordinary as two shillings. I would strive a little to show myself in my place; a gentleman-usher scorns to use the phrase and fancy of a serving-man.
CAS. Yours be your own, sir; go, direct him hither;
Exit Dondolo
I hope some happy tidings from my brother,<
br />
That lately travelled, whom my soul affects.50
Here he comes.
Enter Vendice, disguised
VEN. Lady, the best of wishes to your sex—
Fair skins and new gowns.
CAS. O, they shall thank you, sir.
Whence this?
VEN. O, from a dear and worthy mighty friend.
CAS. From whom?
VEN. The duke’s son!
CAS. Receive that.
[Boxes his ear]
I swore I would put anger in my hand,
And pass the virgin limits of my sex,
To him that next appeared in that base office,
To be his sin’s attorney. Bear to him
That figure of my hate upon thy cheek,
Whilst ’tis yet hot, and I’ll reward thee for’t;
Tell him my honor shall have a rich name,
When several harlots shall share his with shame.
Farewell; commend me to him in my hate.
Exit
VEN. It is the sweetest box that e’er my nose came nigh;
The finest drawn-work cuff that e’er was worn;
I’ll love this blow for ever, and this cheek
Shall still henceforward take the wall51 of this.
O, I’m above my tongue,52 most constant sister,
In this thou hast right honorable shown;
Many are called by their honor, that have none;
Thou art approved for ever in my thoughts.
It is not in the power of words to taint thee.
And yet for the salvation of my oath,
As my resolve in that point, I will lay
Hard siege unto my mother, though I know
A siren’s tongue could not bewitch her so.
Mass, fitly here she comes! thanks, my disguise—
Madam, good afternoon.
Enter Gratiana
GRA. Y’are welcome, sir.
VEN. The next53 of Italy commends him to you,
Our mighty expectation, the duke’s son.
GRA. I think myself much honored that he pleases
To rank me in his thoughts.
VEN. So may you, lady:
One that is like to be our sudden duke;
The crown gapes for him every tide, and then
Commander o’er us all; do but think on him,
How blessed were they, now that could pleasure him—
E’en with anything almost!
GRA. Ay, save their honor.
VEN. Tut, one would let a little of that go too,
And ne’er be seen in’t—ne’er be seen in’t, mark you;
I’d wink,54 and let it go.
GRA. Marry, but I would not.
VEN. Marry but I would, I hope; I know you would too,
If you’d that blood now, which you gave your daughter.
To her indeed ’tis this wheel55 comes about;
That man that must be all this, perhaps ere morning
(For his white father does but mould away),
Has long desired your daughter.
GRA. Desired?
VEN. Nay, but hear me;
He desires now, that will command hereafter:
Therefore be wise. I speak as more a friend
To you than him: madam, I know you’re poor,
And, ’lack the day!
There are too many poor ladies already;
Why should you wax the number? ’Tis despised.
Live wealthy, rightly understand the world,
And chide away that foolish country girl
Keeps company with your daughter—Chastity.
GRA. O fie, fie! the riches of the world cannot hire
A mother to such a most unnatural task.
VEN. No, but a thousand angels56 can.
Men have no power, angels must work you to’t:
The world descends into such baseborn evils,
That forty angels can make fourscore devils.
There will be fools still, I perceive—still fools.
Would I be poor, dejected, scorned of greatness,
Swept from the palace, and see others’ daughters
Spring with the dew o’ the court, having mine own
So much desired and loved by the duke’s son?
No, I would raise my state upon her breast;
And call her eyes my tenants; I would count
My yearly maintenance upon her cheeks;
Take coach upon her lip; and all her parts
Should keep men after men, and I would ride
In pleasure upon pleasure.
You took great pains for her, once when it was;
Let her requite it now, though it be but some.57
You brought her forth: she may well bring you home.
GRA. O Heavens! this o’ercomes me!
VEN. [Aside] Not, I hope, already?
GRA. [Aside] It is too strong for me; men know that know us,
We are so weak their words can overthrow us;
He touched me nearly, made my virtues bate,58
When his tongue struck upon my poor estate.
VEN. [Aside] I e’en quake to proceed, my spirit turns edge.
I fear me she’s unmothered; yet I’ll venture.
“That woman is all male, whom none can enter.”
What think you now, lady? Speak, are you wiser?
What said advancement to you? Thus it said:
The daughter’s fall lifts up the mother’s head.
Did it not, madam? But I’ll swear it does
In many places: tut, this age fears no man.
“ ’Tis no shame to be bad, because ’tis common.”
GRA. Ay, that’s the comfort on’t.
VEN. The comfort on’t!
I keep the best for last—can these persuade you
To forget Heaven—and—
[Gives her money]
GRA. Ay, these are they—
VEN. O!
GRA. That enchant our sex. These are
The means that govern our affections—that woman
Will not be troubled with the mother59 long,
That sees the comfortable shine of you:
I blush to think what for your sakes I’ll do.
VEN. [Aside] O suffering Heaven, with thy invisible finger,
E’en at this instant turn the precious side
Of both mine eyeballs inward, not to see myself.
GRA. Look you, sir.
VEN. Hollo.
GRA. Let this thank your pains.
VEN. O, you’re kind, madam.
GRA. I’ll see how I can move.
VEN. Your words will sting.
GRA. If she be still chaste, I’ll ne’er call her mine.
VEN. Spoke truer than you meant it.
GRA. Daughter Castiza.
Re-enter Castiza
CAS. Madam.
VEN. O, she’s yonder;
Meet her: troops of celestial soldiers guard her heart.
Yon dam has devils enough to take her part.
CAS. Madam, what makes yon evil-officed man
In presence of you?
GRA. Why?
CAS. He lately brought
Immodest writing sent from the duke’s son,
To tempt me to dishonorable act.
GRA. Dishonorable act!—good honorable fool,
That wouldst be honest, ’cause thou wouldst be so,
Producing no one reason but thy will.
And’t has a good report, prettily commended,
But pray, by whom? Poor people, ignorant people;
The better sort, I’m sure, cannot abide it.
And by what rule should we square out our lives,
But by our betters’ actions? O, if thou knew’st
What ’twere to lose it, thou would never keep it!
But there’s a cold curse laid upon all maids,
Whilst others clip60 the sun, they clasp the shades.
Virginity is paradise locked up.
You cannot come by yourselves without fee;61
And ’twas decreed that man should keep the key!
Deny advancement! treasure! the duke’s son!
CAS. I cry you mercy! lady, I mistook you!
Pray did you see my mother? which way went you?
Pray God, I have not lost her.
VEN. [Aside] Prettily put by!
GRA. Are you as proud to me, as coy to him?
Do you not know me now?
CAS. Why, are you she?
The world’s so changed one shape into another,
It is a wise child now that knows her mother.
VEN. [Aside] Most right i’faith.
GRA. I owe your cheek my hand
For that presumption now; but I’ll forget it.
Come, you shall leave those childish ’haviors,
And understand your time. Fortunes flow to you;
What, will you be a girl?
If all feared drowning that spy waves ashore,
Gold would grow rich, and all the merchants poor.
CAS. It is a pretty saying of a wicked one;
But methinks now it does not show so well
Out of your mouth—better in his!
VEN. [Aside] Faith, bad enough in both,
Were I in earnest, as I’ll seem no less.
I wonder, lady, your own mother’s words
Cannot be taken, nor stand in full force.
’Tis honesty you urge; what’s honesty?
’Tis but Heaven’s beggar; and what woman is
So foolish to keep honesty,
And be not able to keep herself? No,
Times are grown wiser, and will keep less charge.62
A maid that has small portion now intends63
To break up house, and live upon her friends;
How blessed are you! you have happiness alone;
Others must fall to thousands, you to one,
Sufficient in himself to make your forehead
Dazzle the world with jewels, and petitionary people
Start at your presence.
GRA. O, if I were young; I should be ravished.
CAS. Ay, to lose your honor!
VEN. ’Slid, how can you lose your honor
To deal with my lord’s grace?
He’ll add more honor to it by his title;
Your mother will tell you how.
GRA. That I will.
VEN. O, think upon the pleasure of the palace!
Secured ease and state! the stirring64 meats,
Ready to move out of the dishes, that e’en now
Quicken when they are eaten!
Banquets abroad by torchlight! music! sports!
Bareheaded vassals, that had ne’er the fortune
To keep on their own hats, but let horns wear ’em!
Nine coaches waiting—hurry, hurry, hurry—
CAS. Ay, to the devil.
VEN. [Aside] Ay, to the devil! To the duke, by my faith.
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