Complete Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker

by Thomas Dekker

  Hip. Muffle yourselves, yonder’s Fluello.

  Enter Fluello.

  Mat. Zounds!

  Flu. O my lord, these cloaks are not for this rain! the tempest is too great: I come sweating to tell you of it, that you may get out of it.

  Mat. Why, what’s the matter?

  Flu. What’s the matter? you have mattered it fair: the duke’s at hand.

  All. The duke?

  Flu. The very duke.

  Hip. Then all our plots

  Are turned upon our heads; and we’re blown up

  With our own underminings. ‘Sfoot, how comes he?

  What villain durst betray our being here?

  Flu. Castruchio! Castruchio told the duke, and Matheo here told Castruchio.

  Hip. Would you betray me to Castruchio?

  Mat. ‘Sfoot, he damned himself to the pit of hell, if he spake on’t again.

  Hip. So did you swear to me: so were you damned.

  Mat. Pox on ’em, and there be no faith in men, if a man shall not believe oaths: he took bread and salt, by this light, that he would never open his lips.

  Hip. O God, O God!

  Ans. Son, be not desperate,

  Have patience, you shall trip your enemy

  Down by his own slights. How far is the duke hence?

  Flu. He’s but new set out: Castruchio, Pioratto and Sinezi come along with him; you have time enough yet to prevent them, if you have but courage.

  Ans. Ye shall steal secretly into the chapel,

  And presently be married. If the duke

  Abide here still, spite of ten thousand eyes,

  You shall ‘scape hence like friars.

  Hip. O blest disguise! O happy man!

  Ans. Talk not of happiness till your closed hand

  Have her by th’ forehead, like the lock of Time:

  Be nor too slow, nor hasty, now you climb

  Up to the tower of bliss; only be wary

  And patient, that’s all: If you like my plot,

  Build and despatch; if not, farewell, then not.

  Hip. O yes, we do applaud it! we’ll dispute

  No longer, but will hence and execute.

  Fluello, you’ll stay here: let us be gone;

  The ground that frighted lovers tread upon

  Is stuck with thorns.

  Ans. Come, then, away, ’tis meet,

  To escape those thorns, to put on wingèd feet. [Exeunt Anselmo, Hippolito and Infelice.

  Mat. No words, I pray, Fluello, for’t stands us upon.

  Flu. Oh, sir, let that be your lesson! [Exit Matheo.

  Alas, poor lovers! On what hopes and fears

  Men toss themselves for women! When she’s got,

  The best has in her that which pleaseth not.

  Enter the Duke, Castruchio, Pioratto, and Sinezi from different doors, muffled.

  Duke. Who’s there?

  Cas. My lord.

  Duke. Peace; send that lord away.

  A lordship will spoil all; let’s be all fellows.

  What’s he?

  Cas. Fluello, or else Sinezi, by his little legs.

  Cas., Flu., Pio. All friends, all friends.

  Duke. What? met upon the very point of time?

  Is this the place?

  Pio. This is the place, my lord.

  Duke. Dream you on lordships? come no more lords, I pray:

  You have not seen these lovers yet?

  All. Not yet.

  Duke. Castruchio, art thou sure this wedding feast

  Is not till afternoon?

  Cas. So’t is given out, my lord.

  Duke. Nay, nay, ’tis like; thieves must observe their hours;

  Lovers watch minutes like astronomers;

  How shall the interim hours by us be spent?

  Flu. Let’s all go see the madmen.

  Cas., Pio., Sin. Mass, content.

  Enter a Sweeper.

  Duke. Oh, here comes one; question him, question him.

  Flu. Now, honest fellow? dost thou belong to the house?

  Sweep. Yes, forsooth, I am one of the implements, I sweep the madmen’s rooms, and fetch straw for ’em, and buy chains to tie ’em, and rods to whip ’em. I was a mad wag myself here, once, but I thank Father Anselmo, he lashed me into my right mind again.

  Duke. Anselmo is the friar must marry them;

  Question him where he is.

  Cas. And where is Father Anselmo now?

  Sweep. Marry, he’s gone but e’en now.

  Duke. Ay, well done. — Tell me, whither is he gone?

  Sweep. Why, to God a’mighty.

  Flu. Ha, ha! this fellow’s a fool, talks idly.

  Pio. Sirrah, are all the mad folks in Milan brought hither?

  Sweep. How, all? there’s a question indeed: why if all the mad folks in Milan should come hither, there would not be left ten men in the city.

  Duke. Few gentlemen or courtiers here, ha?

  Sweep. O yes, abundance, abundance! lands no sooner fall into their hands, but straight they run out a’ their wits: citizens’ sons and heirs are free of the house by their fathers’ copy. Farmers’ sons come hither like geese, in flocks, and when they ha’ sold all their corn-fields, here they sit and pick the straws.

  Sin. Methinks you should have women here as well as men.

  Sweep. Oh, ay, a plague on ’em, there’s no ho! with ’em; they’re madder than March hares.

  Flu. Are there no lawyers amongst you?

  Sweep. Oh no, not one; never any lawyer, we dare not let a lawyer come in, for he’ll make ’em mad faster than we can recover ’em.

  Duke. And how long is’t ere you recover any of these?

  Sweep. Why, according to the quantity of the moon that’s got into ’em. An alderman’s son will be mad a great while, a very great while, especially if his friends left him well; a whore will hardly come to her wits again: a puritan, there’s no hope of him, unless he may pull down the steeple, and hang himself i’ th’ bell-ropes.

  Flu. I perceive all sorts of fish come to your net.

  Sweep. Yes, in truth, we have blocks for all heads; we have good store of wild-oats here: for the courtier is mad at the citizen, the citizen is mad at the countryman; the shoemaker is mad at the cobbler, the cobbler at the car-man; the punk is mad that the merchant’s wife is no whore, the merchant’s wife is mad that the punk is so common a whore. Gods so, here’s Father Anselmo; pray say nothing that I tell tales out of the school. [Exit.

  Re-enter Anselmo and Servants.

  All. God bless you, father.

  Ans. I thank you, gentlemen.

  Cas. Pray, may we see some of those wretched souls,

  That here are in your keeping?

  Ans. Yes, you shall.

  But gentlemen, I must disarm you then:

  There are of mad men, as there are of tame,

  All humoured not alike: we have here some,

  So apish and fantastic, play with a feather,

  And, though ’twould grieve a soul to see God’s image

  So blemished and defaced, yet do they act

  Such antic and such pretty lunacies,

  That spite of sorrow they will make you smile:

  Others again we have like hungry lions,

  Fierce as wild-bulls, untameable as flies,

  And these have oftentimes from strangers’ sides

  Snatched rapiers suddenly, and done much harm,

  Whom if you’ll see, you must be weaponless.

  All. With all our hearts. [Giving their weapons to Anselmo.

  Ans. Here, take these weapons in, — [Exit Servant with weapons.

  Stand off a little, pray; so, so, ’tis well:

  I’ll show you here a man that was sometimes

  A very grave and wealthy citizen;

  Has served a prenticeship to this misfortune,

  Been here seven years, and dwelt in Bergamo.

  Duke. How fell he from his wits?

  Ans. By loss at sea;

  I�
��ll stand aside, question him you alone,

  For if he spy me, he’ll not speak a word,

  Unless he’s throughly vexed.

  [Opens a door and then retires: enter 1st Madman, wrapt in a net.

  Flu. Alas, poor soul!

  Cas. A very old man.

  Duke. God speed, father!

  1st Mad. God speed the plough, thou shalt not speed me.

  Pio. We see you, old man, for all you dance in a net.

  1st Mad. True, but thou wilt dance in a halter, and I shall not see thee.

  Ans. Oh do not vex him, pray.

  Cas. Are you a fisherman, father?

  1st Mad. No, I am neither fish nor flesh.

  Flu. What do you with that net then?

  1st Mad. Dost not see, fool? there’s a fresh salmon in’t; if you step one foot further, you’ll be over shoes, for you see I’m over head and ears in the salt-water: and if you fall into this whirl-pool where I am, you’re drowned: you’re a drowned rat. I am fishing here for five ships, but I cannot have a good draught, for my net breaks still, and breaks; but I’ll break some of your necks an I catch you in my clutches. Stay, stay, stay, stay, stay, where’s the wind? where’s the wind? where’s the wind? where’s the wind? Out you gulls, you goose-caps, you gudgeon-eaters! do you look for the wind in the heavens? ha, ha, ha, ha! no, no! look there, look there, look there! the wind is always at that door: hark how it blows, puff, puff, puff!

  All. Ha, ha, ha!

  1st Mad. Do you laugh at God’s creatures? Do you mock old age, you rogues? Is this gray beard and head counterfeit that you cry, ha, ha, ha? Sirrah, art not thou my eldest son?

  Pio. Yes indeed, father.

  1st Mad. Then thou’rt a fool, for my eldest son had a polt-foot, crooked legs, a verjuice face, and a pear-coloured beard: I made him a scholar, and he made himself a fool. Sirrah, thou there: hold out thy hand.

  Duke. My hand? well, here ’tis.

  1st Mad. Look, look, look, look! has he not long nails, and short hair?

  Flu. Yes, monstrous short hair, and abominable long nails.

  1st Mad. Ten penny nails, are they not?

  Flu. Yes, ten-penny nails.

  1st Mad. Such nails had my second boy. Kneel down, thou varlet, and ask thy father’s blessing. Such nails had my middlemost son, and I made him a promoter: and he scraped, and scraped, and scraped, till he got the devil and all: but he scraped thus, and thus, and thus, and it went under his legs, till at length a company of kites, taking him for carrion, swept up all, all, all, all, all, all, all. If you love your lives, look to yourselves: see, see, see, see, the Turks’ galleys are fighting with my ships! Bounce go the guns! Oooh! cry the men! Rumble, rumble, go the waters! Alas, there; ’tis sunk, ’tis sunk: I am undone, I am undone! You are the damned pirates have undone me: you are, by the Lord, you are, you are! Stop ’em — you are!

  Ans. Why, how now sirrah! must I fall to tame you?

  1st Mad. Tame me! no, I’ll be madder than a roasted cat. See, see, I am burnt with gunpowder, — these are our close fights!

  Ans. I’ll whip you, if you grow unruly thus.

  1st Mad. Whip me? Out you toad! Whip me? What justice is this, to whip me because I am a beggar? Alas! I am a poor man: a very poor man! I am starved, and have had no meat by this light, ever since the great flood; I am a poor man.

  Ans. Well, well, be quiet, and you shall have meat.

  1st Mad. Ay, ay, pray do; for look you, here be my guts: these are my ribs — you may look through my ribs — see how my guts come out! These are my red guts, my very guts, oh, oh!

  Ans. Take him in there. [Servants remove 1st Madman.

  Flu., Pio., &c. A very piteous sight.

  Cas. Father, I see you have a busy charge.

  Ans. They must be used like children, pleased with toys,

  And anon whipped for their unruliness:

  I’ll show you now a pair quite different

  From him that’s gone: he was all words; and these

  Unless you urge ’em, seldom spend their speech,

  But save their tongues.

  [Opens another door, from which enter 2nd and 3rd Madmen.

  La, you; this hithermost

  Fell from the happy quietness of mind,

  About a maiden that he loved, and died:

  He followed her to church, being full of tears,

  And as her body went into the ground,

  He fell stark mad. This is a married man,

  Was jealous of a fair, but, as some say,

  A very virtuous wife; and that spoiled him.

  3rd Mad. All these are whoremongers, and lay with my wife: whore, whore, whore, whore, whore!

  Flu. Observe him.

  3rd Mad. Gaffer shoemaker, you pulled on my wife’s pumps, and then crept into her pantofles: lie there, lie there! This was her tailor. You cut out her loose-bodied gown, and put in a yard more than I allowed her; lie there by the shoemaker. O master doctor! are you here? you gave me a purgation, and then crept into my wife’s chamber, to feel her pulses, and you said, and she said, and her maid said, that they went pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat. Doctor, I’ll put you anon into my wife’s urinal. Heigh, come aloft, Jack: this was her schoolmaster, and taught her to play upon the virginals, and still his jacks leapt up, up. You pricked her out nothing but bawdy lessons, but I’ll prick you all, fiddler — doctor — tailor — shoemaker — shoemaker — fiddler — doctor — tailor! So! lie with my wife again, now.

  Cas. See how he notes the other, now he feeds.

  3rd Mad. Give me some porridge.

  2nd Mad. I’ll give thee none.

  3rd Mad. Give me some porridge.

  2nd Mad. I’ll not give thee a bit.

  3rd Mad. Give me that flap-dragon.

  2nd Mad. I’ll not give thee a spoonful: thou liest, it’s no dragon, ’tis a parrot, that I bought for my sweetheart, and I’ll keep it.

  3rd Mad. Here’s an almond for parrot.

  2nd Mad. Hang thyself!

  3rd Mad. Here’s a rope for parrot.

  2nd Mad. Eat it, for I’ll eat this.

  3rd Mad. I’ll shoot at thee, an thou’t give me none.

  2nd Mad. Wu’t thou?

  3rd Mad. I’ll run a tilt at thee, an thou’t give me none.

  2nd Mad. Wu’t thou? do an thou darest.

  3rd Mad. Bounce! [Strikes him.

  2nd Mad. O — oh! I am slain! murder, murder, murder! I am slain; my brains are beaten out.

  Ans. How now, you villains! Bring me whips: I’ll whip you.

  2nd Mad. I am dead! I am slain! ring out the bell, for I am dead.

  Duke. How will you do now, sirrah? you ha’ killed him.

  3rd Mad. I’ll answer’t at sessions: he was eating of almond-butter, and I longed for’t: the child had never been delivered out of my belly, if I had not killed him. I’ll answer’t at sessions, so my wife may be burnt i’ th’ hand, too.

  Ans. Take ’em in both: bury him, for he’s dead.

  2nd Mad. Indeed, I am dead; put me, I pray, into a good pit-hole.

  3rd Mad. I’ll answer’t at sessions. [Servants remove 2nd and 3rd Madmen.

  Enter Bellafront.

  Ans. How now, huswife, whither gad you?

  Bell. A-nutting, forsooth: how do you, gaffer? how do you, gaffer? there’s a French curtsey for you, too.

  Flu. ’Tis Bellafront!

  Pio. Tis the punk, by th’ Lord!

  Duke. Father, what’s she, I pray?

  Ans. As yet I know not,

  She came in but this day; talks little idly,

  And therefore has the freedom of the house.

  Bell. Do not you know me? — nor you? — nor you? — nor you?

  All. No, indeed.

  Bell. Then you are an ass, — and you an ass, — and you are an ass, — for I know you.

  Ans. Why, what are they? come, tell me, what are they?

  Bell. They’re fish-wives, will you buy any gudgeons? God’s santy! yonder come friars, I kn
ow them too —

  Enter Hippolito, Matheo, and Infelice, disguised as Friars.

  How do you, friar?

  Ans. Nay, nay, away, you must not trouble friars. —

  The duke is here, speak nothing.

  Bell. Nay, indeed, you shall not go: we’ll run at barley-break first, and you shall be in hell.

  Mat. My punk turned mad whore, as all her fellows are!

  Hip. Say nothing; but steal hence, when you spy time.

  Ans. I’ll lock you up, if you’re unruly: fie!

  Bell. Fie? marry, soh! they shall not go indeed, till I ha’ told ’em their fortunes.

  Duke. Good father, give her leave.

  Bell. Ay, pray, good father, and I’ll give you my blessing.

  Ans. Well then, be brief, but if you’re thus unruly,

  I’ll have you locked up fast.

  Pio. Come, to their fortunes.

  Bell. Let me see, one, two, three, and four. I’ll begin with the little friar first. Here’s a fine hand, indeed! I never saw friar have such a dainty hand: here’s a hand for a lady! Here’s your fortune: —

  You love a friar better than a nun;

  Yet long you’ll love no friar, nor no friar’s son.

  Bow a little, the line of life is out, yet I’m afraid,

  For all you’re holy, you’ll not die a maid.

  God give you joy!

  Now to you, Friar Tuck.

  Mat. God send me good luck!

  Bell. You love one, and one loves you:

  You’re a false knave, and she’s a Jew,

  Here is a dial that false ever goes —

  Mat. O your wit drops!

  Bell. Troth, so does your nose —

  Nay lets shake hands with you too; pray open, here’s a fine hand!

  Ho friar, ho! God be here,

  So he had need: you’ll keep good cheer,

  Here’s a free table, but a frozen breast,

  For you’ll starve those that love you best;

  Yet you have good fortune, for if I’m no liar,

  Then you are no friar, nor you, nor you no friar,

  Haha, haha! [Discovers them.

  Duke. Are holy habits cloaks for villany?