Flu. Ay, I’ll swear for’t: ‘sfoot, had it been my case, I should ha’ played mad tricks with my wife and family: first, I would ha’ spitted the men, stewed the maids, and baked the mistress, and so served them in.
Pio. Why ’twould ha’ tempted any blood but his,
And thou to vex him? thou to anger him
With some poor shallow jest?
Cas. ‘Sblood, Signor Pioratto, you that disparage my conceit, I’ll wage a hundred ducats upon the head on’t, that it moves him, frets him, and galls him.
Pio. Done, ’tis a lay, join golls on’t: witness Signor Fluello.
Cas. Witness: ’tis done:
Come, follow me: the house is not far off,
I’ll thrust him from his humour, vex his breast,
And win a hundred ducats by one jest. [Exeunt.
SCENE V. — Candido’s Shop.
GEORGE AND TWO Prentices discovered: enter Viola.
Vio. Come, you put up your wares in good order here, do you not, think you? one piece cast this way, another that way! you had need have a patient master indeed.
Geo. Ay. I’ll be sworn, for we have a curst mistress. [Aside.
Vio. You mumble, do you? mumble? I would your master or I could be a note more angry! for two patient folks in a house spoil all the servants that ever shall come under them.
1st Pren. You patient! ay, so is the devil when he is horn-mad. [Aside.
Enter Castruchio, Fluello, and Pioratto.
Geo. Gentlemen, what do you lack?
1st Pren. What is’t you buy?
2nd Pren. See fine hollands, fine cambrics, fine lawns.
Geo. What is’t you lack?
2nd Pren. What is’t you buy?
Cas. Where’s Signor Candido, thy master?
Geo. Faith, signor, he’s a little negotiated, he’ll appear presently.
Cas. Fellow, let’s see a lawn, a choice one, sirrah.
Geo. The best in all Milan, gentlemen, and this is the piece. I can fit you gentlemen with fine calicoes too for doublets, the only sweet fashion now, most delicate and courtly, a meek gentle calico, cut upon two double affable taffetas, — ah, most neat, feat, and unmatchable!
Flu. A notable voluble-tongued villain.
Pio. I warrant this fellow was never begot without much prating.
Cas. What, and is this she, sayest thou?
Geo. Ay, and the purest she that ever you fingered since you were a gentleman: look how even she is, look how clean she is, ha! as even as the brow of Cynthia, and as clean as your sons and heirs when they ha’ spent all.
Cas. Pooh, thou talkest — pox on’t, ’tis rough.
Geo. How? is she rough? but if you bid pox on’t, sir, ‘twill take away the roughness presently.
Flu. Ha, signor; has he fitted your French curse?
Geo. Look you, gentlemen, here’s another, compare them I pray, compara Virgilium cum Homero, compare virgins with harlots.
Cas. Pooh, I ha’ seen better, and as you term them, evener and cleaner.
Geo. You may see further for your mind, but trust me, you shall not find better for your body.
Enter Candido.
Cas. O here he comes, let’s make as though we pass. Come, come, we’ll try in some other shop.
Cand. How now? what’s the matter?
Geo. The gentlemen find fault with this lawn, fall out with it, and without a cause too.
Cand. Without a cause?
And that makes you to let ’em pass away:
Ah, may I crave a word with you gentlemen?
Flu. He calls us.
Cas. — Makes the better for the jest.
Cand. I pray come near, you’re very welcome, gallants.
Pray pardon my man’s rudeness, for I fear me
H’as talked above a prentice with you. Lawns! [Showing lawns.
Look you, kind gentlemen, this — no — ay — this:
Take this upon my honest-dealing faith,
To be a true weave, not too hard, nor slack,
But e’en as far from falsehood as from black.
Cas. Well, how do you rate it?
Cand. Very conscionably, eighteen shillings a yard.
Cas. That’s too dear: how many yards does the whole piece contain, think you?
Cand. Why, some seventeen yards, I think, or thereabouts.
How much would serve your turn, I pray?
Cas. Why, let me see — would it were better too!
Cand. Truth, tis the best in Milan at few words.
Cas. Well: let me have then — a whole penny-worth.
Cand. Ha, ha! you’re a merry gentleman.
Cas. A penn’orth I say.
Cand. Of lawn!
Cas. Of lawn? Ay, of lawn, a penn’orth. ‘Sblood, dost not hear? a whole penn’orth, are you deaf?
Cand. Deaf? no, sir: but I must tell you,
Our wares do seldom meet such customers.
Cas. Nay, an you and your lawns be so squeamish, fare you well.
Cand. Pray stay; a word, pray, signor: for what purpose is it, I beseech you?
Cas. ‘Sblood, what’s that to you: I’ll have a penny-worth.
Cand. A penny-worth! why you shall: I’ll serve you presently.
2nd Pren. ‘Sfoot, a penny-worth, mistress!
Vio. A penny-worth! call you these gentlemen?
Cas. No, no: not there.
Cand. What then, kind gentlemen, what at this corner here?
Cas. No, nor there neither;
I’ll have it just in the middle, or else not.
Cand. Just in the middle! — ha — you shall too: what, —
Have you a single penny?
Cas. Yes, here’s one.
Cand. Lend it me, I pray.
Flu. An excellent followed jest!
Vio. What will he spoil the lawn now?
Cand. Patience, good wife.
Vio. Ay, that patience makes a fool of you. — Gentlemen, you might ha’ found some other citizen to have made a kind gull on, besides my husband.
Cand. Pray, gentlemen, take her to be a woman;
Do not regard her language. — O kind soul:
Such words will drive away my customers.
Vio. Customers with a murrain! call you these customers?
Cand. Patience, good wife.
Vio. Pox a’ your patience.
Geo. ‘Sfoot, mistress, I warrant these are some cheating companions.
Cand. Look you, gentlemen, there’s your ware, I thank you, I have your money here; pray know my shop, pray let me have your custom.
Vio. Custom quoth’a.
Cand. Let me take more of your money.
Vio. You had need so.
Pio. Hark in thine ear, thou’st lost an hundred ducats.
Cas. Well, well, I know’t: is’t possible that homo
Should be nor man, nor woman: not once moved;
No not at such an injury, not at all!
Sure he’s a pigeon, for he has no gall.
Flu. Come, come, you’re angry though you smother it:
You’re vexed i’faith; confess.
Cand. Why, gentlemen,
Should you conceit me to be vexed or moved?
He has my ware, I have his money for’t,
And that’s no argument I’m angry: no:
The best logician cannot prove me so.
Flu. Oh, but the hateful name of a penn’orth of lawn,
And then cut out i’th middle of the piece:
Pah, I guess it by myself, ’twould move a lamb
Were he a linen-draper, ’twould, i’faith.
Cand. Well, give me leave to answer you for that:
We are set here to please all customers,
Their humours and their fancies; — offend none:
We get by many, if we lose by one.
May be his mind stood to no more than that,
A penn’orth serves him, and ‘mongst trades ’tis found,
Deny a penn’orth, it may cross a pound.
<
br /> Oh, he that means to thrive, with patient eye
Must please the devil if he come to buy!
Flu. O wondrous man, patient ‘bove wrong or woe,
How blessed were men, if women could be so!
Cand. And to express how well my breast is pleased,
And satisfied in all: — George fill a beaker. [Exit George.
I’ll drink unto that gentleman, who lately
Bestowed his money with me.
Vio. God’s my life,
We shall have all our gains drunk out in beakers,
To make amends for pennyworths of lawn!
Re-enter George with beaker.
Cand. Here wife, begin you to the gentleman.
Vio. I begin to him! [Spills the wine.
Cand. George, fill’t up again:
’Twas my fault, my hand shook. [Exit George.
Pio. How strangely this doth show!
A patient man linked with a waspish shrew.
Flu. A silver and gilt beaker: I’ve a trick
To work upon that beaker, sure ‘twill fret him;
It cannot choose but vex him. [Aside.] Signor Castruchio,
In pity to thee I have a conceit,
Will save thy hundred ducats yet; ‘twill do’t,
And work him to impatience.
Cas. Sweet Fluello, I should be bountiful to that conceit.
Flu. Well, ’tis enough.
Re-enter George with beaker.
Cand. Here gentlemen to you,
I wish your custom, you are exceeding welcome. [Drinks.
Cas. I pledge you, Signor Candido — [Drinks.] — here you that must receive a hundred ducats.
Pio. I’ll pledge them deep, i’faith, Castruchio. — Signor Fluello. [Drinks.
Flu. Come: play’t off to me;
I am your last man.
Cand. George supply the cup. [Exit George who returns with beaker filled.
Flu. So, so, good honest George, —
Here Signor Candido, all this to you.
Cand. O, you must pardon me, I use it not.
Flu. Will you not pledge me then?
Cand. Yes, but not that:
Great love is shown in little.
Flu. Blurt on your sentences!
‘Sfoot, you shall pledge me all.
Cand. Indeed I shall not.
Flu. Not pledge me? ‘Sblood, I’ll carry away the beaker then.
Cand. The beaker? Oh! that at your pleasure, sir.
Flu. Now by this drink I will. [Drinks.
Cas. Pledge him, he’ll do’t else.
Flu. So: I ha’ done you right on my thumb-nail,
What, will you pledge me now?
Cand. You know me, sir, I am not of that sin.
Flu. Why then farewell:
I’ll bear away the beaker by this light.
Cand. That’s as you please; ’tis very good.
Flu. Nay, it doth please me, and as you say, ’tis a very good one. Farewell Signor Candido.
Pio. Farewell Candido.
Cand. You’re welcome gentlemen.
Cas. Art not moved yet?
I think his patience is above our wit.
[Exeunt Castruchio, Fluello carrying off the beaker, and Pioratto.
Geo. I told you before, mistress, they were all cheaters.
Vio. Why fool! why husband! why madman! I hope you will not let ’em sneak away so with a silver and gilt beaker, the best in the house too. — Go, fellows, make hue and cry after them.
Cand. Pray let your tongue lie still, all will be well. —
Come hither, George, hie to the constable,
And in calm order wish him to attach them;
Make no great stir, because they’re gentlemen,
And a thing partly done in merriment.
’Tis but a size above a jest thou knowest,
Therefore pursue it mildly. Go begone,
The constable’s hard by, bring him along, — make haste again. [Exit George.
Vio. O you’re a goodly patient woodcock, are you not now? See what your patience comes to: every one saddles you, and rides you; you’ll be shortly the common stone-horse of Milan: a woman’s well holped up with such a meacock; I had rather have a husband that would swaddle me thrice a day, than such a one, that will be gulled twice in half-an-hour: Oh, I could burn all the wares in my shop for anger.
Cand. Pray wear a peaceful temper; be my wife,
That is, be patient; for a wife and husband
Share but one soul between them: this being known,
Why should not one soul then agree in one?
Vio. Hang your agreements! but if my beaker be gone. — [Exit.
Re-enter Castruchio, Fluello, Pioratto, and George.
Cand. Oh, here they come.
Geo. The constable, sir, let ’em come along with me, because there should be no wondering: he stays at door.
Cas. Constable, Goodman Abra’m.
Flu. Now Signor Candido, ‘sblood why do you attach us?
Cas. ‘Sheart! attach us!
Cand. Nay swear not, gallants,
Your oaths may move your souls, but not move me;
You have a silver beaker of my wife’s.
Flu. You say not true: ’tis gilt.
Cand. Then you say true;
And being gilt, the guilt lies more on you.
Cas. I hope y’are not angry, sir.
Cand. Then you hope right; for I’m not angry.
Flu. No, but a little moved.
Cand. I moved! ’twas you were moved, you were brought hither.
Cas. But you, out of your anger and impatience,
Caused us to be attached.
Cand. Nay, you misplace it:
Out of my quiet sufferance I did that,
And not of any wrath. Had I shown anger,
I should have then pursued you with the law,
And hunted you to shame, as many worldlings
Do build their anger upon feebler grounds;
The more’s the pity; many lose their lives
For scarce so much coin as will hide their palm:
Which is most cruel; those have vexèd spirits
That pursue lives; in this opinion rest,
The loss of millions could not move my breast.
Flu. Thou art a blest man, and with peace dost deal,
Such a meek spirit can bless a commonweal.
Cand. Gentlemen, now ’tis upon eating-time,
Pray part not hence, but dine with me to-day.
Cas. I never heard a carter yet say nay
To such a motion. I’ll not be the first.
Pio. Nor I.
Flu. Nor I.
Cand. The constable shall bear you company.
George, call him in: let the world say what it can,
Nothing can drive me from a patient man. [Exeunt.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I. — A Room in Bellafront’s House.
ENTER ROGER WITH a stool, cushion, looking-glass and chafing-dish; these being set down, he pulls out of his pocket a phial with white colour in it, and two boxes, one with white, another with red paint; he places all things in order, and a candle by them, singing the ends of old ballads as he does it. At last Bellafront, as he rubs his cheek with the colours, whistles within.
Rog. Anon, forsooth.
Bell. [Within.] What are you playing the rogue about?
Rog. About you, forsooth; I’m drawing up a hole in your white silk stocking.
Bell. Is my glass there? and my boxes of complexion?
Rog. Yes, forsooth: your boxes of complexion are here, I think: yes, ’tis here: here’s your two complexions, and if I had all the four complexions, I should ne’er set a good face upon’t. Some men I see, are born, under hard-favoured planets as well as women. Zounds, I look worse now than I did before! and it makes her face glister most damnably. There’s knavery in daubing, I hold my life; or else this only female pomatum.
Enter Bellafront not full ready; s
he sits down; curls her hair with her bodkin; and colours her lips.
Bell. Where’s my ruff and poker, you blockhead?
Rog. Your ruff, your poker, are engendering together upon the cupboard of the court, or the court cupboard.
Bell. Fetch ’em: is the pox in your hams, you can go no faster? [Strikes him.
Rog. Would the pox were in your fingers, unless you could leave flinging! catch — [Exit.
Bell. I’ll catch you, you dog, by and by: do you grumble? [Sings.
Cupid is a God, as naked as my nail,
I’ll whip him with a rod, if he my true love fail.
Re-enter Roger with ruff and poker.
Rog. There’s your ruff, shall I poke it?
Bell. Yes, honest Roger — no, stay; prithee, good boy, hold here. [Sings.] [Roger holds the glass and candle.] Down, down, down, down, I fall down and arise, — down — I never shall arise.
Rog. Troth mistress, then leave the trade if you shall never rise.
Bell. What trade, Goodman Abra’m?
Rog. Why that of down and arise or the falling trade.
Bell. I’ll fall with you by and by.
Rog. If you do I know who shall smart for’t:
Troth, mistress, what do I look like now?
Bell. Like as you are; a panderly sixpenny rascal.
Rog. I may thank you for that: in faith I look like an old proverb, “Hold the candle before the devil.”
Bell. Ud’s life, I’ll stick my knife in your guts an you prate to me so! — What? [Sings.
Well met, pug, the pearl of beauty: umh, umh.
How now, Sir Knave? you forget your duty, umh, umh,
Marrymuff, sir, are you grown so dainty; fa, la, la, leera, la.
Is it you, sir? the worst of twenty, fa, la, la, leera, la.
Pox on you, how dost thou hold my glass?
Rog. Why, as I hold your door: with my fingers.
Bell. Nay, pray thee, sweet honey Roger, hold up handsomely. [Sings.
Pretty wantons warble, &c.
We shall ha’ guests to day, I lay my little maidenhead; my nose itches so.
Rog. I said so too last night, when our fleas twinged me.
Bell. So, poke my ruff now, my gown, my gown! have I my fall? where’s my fall, Roger?
Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker Page 120