10. WHORES, SHREWS, . . .
Presentation: Prostitution in England, 1475-1640
Presentation: critical essay on Tis Pity She's a Whore
Readings
God Nahum, chap. 3.1-6 [New York, for example--]
God Deuteronomy 23.17-18: [A Failed Prophecy? ]
God, fr. the book of Hosea [Hosea, Gomer, et al.]
T. Nash "Choosing of Valentines" (1593; ed. DWF 1999)
J. Marston Scourge of Villainy (1598; ed. DWF 1999)
W. Goddard fr. A Mastif Whelp (1599; ed. DWF 1999)
J. Healey, fr. "Fooliana the Fat," Discovery of a New World (1609; ed. DWF)
G. Markham The Famous Whore, or Noble Curtizan (1609; ed. DWF)
R. Corbett fr. "Satire 6," The Times' Whistle (1615)
Misc. [Bawdy verses, 17th Century] (ed. DWF)
J. Ford 'Tis Pity She's a Whore (1633; ed. DWF 1999)
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The Readings
[New York, for example--]
Nahum, chap. 3.1-6
1. Woe to the bloody city! it is all full of lies and robbery; the prey departeth not; ... 4. Because of the multitude of the whoredoms of the well-favored harlot, the mistress of witchcrafts, that selleth nations through her whoredoms, and families through her witchcrafts. 5. Behold, I am against thee, saith the LORD of hosts; and I will discover thy skirts upon thy face, and I will shew the nations thy nakedness, and the kingdoms thy shame. 6. And I will cast abominable filth upon thee, and make thee vile, and will set thee as a gazingstock.
[A Failed Prophecy? ]
fr. Deuteronomy 23.17-18:
There shall be no whore of the daughters of Israel, nor a sodomite of the sons of Israel.
[Hosea, Gomer, three kids. Can this marriage be saved?]
fr. the Book of Hosea, chaps. 1, 3, 14
1. The word of the LORD that came unto Hosea, the son of Beeri, in the days of Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah, kings of Judah, and in the days of Jeroboam the son of Joash, king of Israel. 2. The beginning of the word of the LORD by Hosea. And the LORD said to Hosea, "Go, take unto thee a wife of whoredoms and children of whoredoms: for the land hath committed great whoredom, departing from the LORD."
So he went and took Gomer the daughter of Diblaim; which conceived, and bare him a son. 4. And the LORD said unto him, "Call his name Jezreel; for yet a little while, and I will ... cause to cease the kingdom of the house of Israel...."
6. And she conceived again, and bare a daughter. And God said unto him, "Call her name Lo-ruhamah: for I will no more have mercy upon the house of Israel; but I will utterly take them away."... Now when she had weaned Lo-ruhamah, she conceived, and bare a son. 9. Then said God, "Call his name Lo-ammi: for ye are not my people, and I will not be your God."
Chapter 3
1. Then said the LORD unto me, "Go yet, love a woman beloved of her friend, yet an adulteress, according to the love of the LORD toward the children of Israel, who look to other gods and love flagons of wine.
2. So I bought her to me for fifteen pieces of silver, and for an homer of barley, and an half homer of barley: 3. And I said unto her, "Thou shalt abide for me many days; thou shalt not play the harlot, and thou shalt not be for another man: so will I also be for thee...."
14.9. Who is wise, and he shall understand these things? prudent, and he shall know them? for the ways of the LORD are right, and the just shall walk in them: but the transgressors shall fall therein. [Finis]
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Thomas Nash, "The Choosing Of Valentines," from Choise of Valentines (c. 1593; ed. DWF 1599)
[Nash's dedication to Ferdinando Stranley, Lord Strange:]
To the right honorable, the Lord S.
Pardon, sweet flower of matchless poetry
And fairest bud, the red rose ever bare--
Although my Muse, divorced from deeper care
Presents thee with a wanton elegy,
Ne blame my verse of loose unchastity
For painting forth the things that hidden are--
Since all men act what I in speech declare,
Only induced by variety.
Complaints and praises every one can write,
And passion-out their pangs in stately rhymes;
But of love's pleasures none did ever write
That hath succeeded in these latter times.
Accept of it, dear lord, in gentle grees [ goodwill
And better lines ere long shall honor thee.
The Choosing Of Valentines
It was the merry month of February,
When young men in their jolly roguery
Rose early in the morn fore break of day,
To seek them Valentines so trim and gay
With whom they may consort in summer sheen
And dance the hay-de-guys on our town green-- [country dances
At Ales, at Easter, or at Pentecost, [ ale-drinking festivals
Perambulate the fields that flourish most
And go to some village a-bord'ring near
To taste the cream and cakes and such good cheer; 10
Or see a play of strange morality,
Shown by bachel'ry of Manningtree; [old men's plays in Essex
Whereto, the country franklinss flockmeals swarm, [freeholders together
And John and Joan come marching arm-in-arm;
Even on the hallows of that blessed saint
That doth true lovers with those joys acquaint,
I went, poor pilgrim, to my lady's shrine,
To see if she would be my Valentine--
But woe, alas, she was not to be found,
For she was shifted to an Upper Ground: [street of Southwark brothels
Good Justice Dudgeon-haft, and Crabtree Face, [dudgeonwood dagger
With bills and staves had scared her from the place;
And now she was compelled, for sanctuary,
To fly unto a house of venery.s [house of sexual pleasure
Thither went I, and boldly made inquire
If they had hackneyss to let out to hire, [mares; prostitutes
And what they craved, by order of their trade,
To let one ride a journey on a jade.s [worn-out horse; whore
Therewith out stepped a foggys three-chin'd dame [bloated
That used to take young wenches for to tame, 30
And asked me if I meant as I profess'd
Or only asked a question but in jest.
"In jest?" quoth I. "That term it, as you will;
I come for game! Therefore, give me my Jill."
"Why, sir," quoth she, "if that be your demand,
Come, lay me a God's-pennys in my hand; [token, tip
For, in our oratory siccarly, [certainly
None enters here to do his nicery
But he must pay his offertory first--
And then, perhaps, we'll ease him of his thirst." 40
I, hearing her so earnest for the box,
Gave her her due, and she the door unlocks.
In am I entered: "Venus be my speeds! [helper
But where's this female that must do this deed"?
By blind meanders and by crankleds ways, [twisted
She leads me onward! (as my author says),
Until we came within a shady loft
Where Venus-bouncing vestals skirmish oft;
And there she set me in a leather chair
And brought me forth, of pretty trulls, a pair, 50
To choose of them which might content mine eye--
But her I sought, I could nowhere espy.
I spake them fair, and wish'd them well to fare---
"Yet so it is, I must have fresher ware;
Wherefore, Dame Bawd, as dainty as you be,
Fetch gentle Mistress Frances forth to me."
"By halidame!" quoth she, "and God's own mother,
I well perceive you are a wily brother--
For if there be a morsel of more price,
You'll smell it out, though I be ne'er so nice. 60
As you desire, so shall you swive with her,
But think, your purse-strings shall abys it dear; [pay for, rue
For, he that will eat quails must lavish crowns,
And Mistress Frances, in her velvet gowns
And ruffs and periwigs as fresh as May,
Cannot be kept with half a crown a day."
"Of price, good hostess, we will not debate,
Though you assize me at the highest rate; [assess
Only conduct me to this bonny bell,
And ten good gobs I will unto thee tells, [count out
Of gold or silver, which shall like thee best,
So much do I her company request."
Away she went. So sweet a thing is gold,
That maugers will invade the strongest hold. [despite all
Hey-ho! she comes, that hath my heart in keep!
Sing lullaby, my cares, and fall asleep!
Sweeping she comes, as she would brush the ground;
Her rattling silks my senses do confound.
"Oh, I am ravish'd: void the chamber straight!
For I must needs upon her with my weight." 70
"My Tomalins?" quoth she, and then she smiled. [Tommy
"Ay, ay," quoth I , "so more men are beguiled
With smiles, with flatt'ring words and feigned cheer,
When in your deeds your falsehood doth appear!"
"As how, my lambkin," blushing, she replied,
"Because I in this dancing school abide?
If that it be, that breeds this discontent,
We will remove the camp, incontinents! [quickly; intemperately
For shelter only, sweetheart, came I hither,
And to avoid the troublous stormy weather. 90
But now the coast is clear, we will be gone,
Since, but thyself, true lover I have none."
With that she sprung full lightly to my lips,
And fast about the neck me colls and clips.s [hugs and kisses
She wanton faints, and falls upon her bed,
And often tosseth to-and-fro her head.
She shuts her eyes and waggles with her tongue:
"Oh, who is able to abstain so long?"
"I come! I come! (Sweet lining, by thy leave--)"
Softly my fingers up these curtains heave, 100
And make me happy, stealing by degrees,
First, bare her legs, then creep up to her knees,
From thence ascend unto her manly thigh---
(A pox on ling'ring when I am so nigh!).
Smock, climb a-pace, that I may see my joys!
Oh heaven and paradise are all but toys
Compar'd with this sight that I now behold,
Which well might keep a man from being old--
A pretty rising womb without a weams [blemish
That shone as bright as any silver stream 110
And bare out like the bending of an hill,
At whose decline a fountain dwelleth still
(That hath his mouth beset with ugly briars;
Resembling much a dusky net of wires);
A lofty buttock, barred with azure veins,
Whose comely swelling, when my hand distrains [clasps
Or wantons checketh with a harmless stripe,s [ playfully [ lashing
It makes the fruits of love eftsoons be ripe, [by and b y
And-- pleasure pluck'd too timely from the stem!
To die, ere it hath seen Jerusalem! 120
O gods! that ever anything so sweet,
So suddenly should fade away, and fleet!
Her arms are spread, and I am all unarm'd,
Like one with Ovid's cursèd hemlock charm'd-- [Amores 3.7.13
So are my limbs unwieldly for the fight
That spend their strength in thought of her delight!
What shall I do to show myself a man?
It will not be for ought that beauty can.s [can do
I kiss, I clap, I feel, I view at will,
Yet dead he lies, not thinking good or ill. 130
"Unhappy me," quoth she, "and will't not stand?
Come, let me rub and chafe it with my hand!
Perhaps the silly worm is labor'd sore,
And wearied, that it can do no more--
If it be so (as I am great a-dreads),
I wish ten thousand times that I were dead!
How e'er it is, no means shall want in me
That may avail to his recovery."
Which said, she took and roll'd it on her thigh,
And when she looked on't, she would weep and sigh. 140
She dandled it, and danc'd it up and down,
Not ceasing till she rais'd it from his swoon--
And then he flew on her as he were woods, [crazy; wooden
And on her breech did thacks and foins a-good; [beat [thrust
He rubb'd, and prick'd, and pierc'd her to the bones,
Digging as far as eaths he might for stones; [easily
Now high, now low, now striking short and thick;
Now diving deep, he touched her to the quick;
Now with a girds he would his course rebate, [ suddenly
Straight would he take him to a stately gate; 150
Play while him list, and thrust he ne'er so hard,
Poor patient Grissills lyeth at her ward [model of feminine patience
And gives, and takes, as blithe and free as May,
And e'ermore meets him in the middle way.
On him her eyes continually were fix'd.
With her eyebeams his melting looks were mix'd,
Which, like the sun that 'twixt two glasses plays,
From one to th'other casts rebounding rays.
He, like a star that to re-gild his beams
Sucks in the influence of Phoebus' streams, 160
Embathes the lines of his descending light
In the bright fountains of her clearest sight.
She, fair as fairest planet in the sky,
Her purity to no man doth deny;
The very chamber that enclouds her shrine
Looks like the palace of that god divine
Who leads the day about the Zodiac,
And every evens descends to th' ocean lake; [evening
So fierce and fervent is her radiance,
Such fiery stakes she darts at every glance 170
As might enflame the icy limbs of age,
And make pale death his surquedry t' assuage; [ presumption
To stand and gaze upon her orient lamps
Where Cupid all his chiefest joys encamps,
And sits and plays with every atomi
That in her sunbeams swarm abundantly.
Thus gazing, and thus striving, we persever:
But what so firm that may continue ever?
"Oh not so fast," my ravish'd mistress cries,
"Lest my content, that on thy life relies, 180
Be brought too soon from his delightful seat,
And me unwares of hopèd bliss defeat.
Together let our equal motions stir,
Together let us live and die,s my dear. [ climax
Together let us march unto content,
And be consumèd with one blandishment."s [ rush of pleasure
As she prescrib'd, so kept we crotchets time, [musical; obstetrical
And every stroke in order like a chime,
Whilst she, that had preserved me by her pity,
Unto our music fram'd a groaning ditty. 190
("Alas, alas! that love should be a sin!")
Even now my bliss and sorrow doth begin.
Hold wide thy lap, my lovely Danae,
And entertain the golden shower so free,
That trickling falls into thy treasury!
As April drops not half so pleasant be,
Nor Nilus' overflow to Egypt plains
As this sweet stream that all her joints embanes. [embathes
With "Oh!" and "Oh!" she itching moves her hips,
And to-and-fro full lightly starts and skips. 200
She jerks her legs, and sprawleth with her heels;
No tongue may tell the solace that she feels.
"I faint! I yield! Oh, death! rock me asleep!
Sleep! sleep desire, entombed in the deep!"
"--Not so, my dear," my dearest saint replied,
"For, from us yet, thy spirit may not glide
Until the sinewy channels of our blood
Withold their source from this imprisoned flood,
And then will we (that 'then' will come too soon)
Dissolved lie, as though our days were done. 210
The whilst I speak, my souls is fleeting hence, [i.e. your erection
And life forsakes his fleshy residence!
Stay, stay, sweet joy, and leave me not forlorn--
Why shouldst thou fade, that art but newly born?
Stay but an hour--an hour is not so much--
But half an hour, if that thy haste is such!
Nay, but a quarter!---I will ask no more---
That thy departure (which torments me sore),
May be alight'ned with a little pause, [ameliorated
And take away this passion's sudden cause. 220
He hears me not, hard-hearted as he is!
He is the son of Time, and hates my bliss.
Time ne'er looks back. The rivers ne'er return.
A second spring must help me, or I burn.
No, no, the well is dry that should refresh me,
The glass is run of all my destiny:
Nature of winter learneth niggardices-- [stinginess
Who, as he over-bears the stream with ice
That man nor beast may of their pleasance taste,
So shuts she up her conduit all in haste, 230
And will not let her nectar overflow,
Lest mortal man immortal joys should know.
Adieu! unconstant love, to thy disport!
Adieu, false mirth, and melody too short!
Adieu, faint-hearted instrument of lust,
That falsely hath betrayed our equal trust.
Henceforth no more will I implore thine aid,
Or thee, or man of cowardice upbraid.
My little dildo shall supply their kind--
A knave that moves as light as leaves by wind; 240
That bendeth not, nor foldeth any deal,
But stands as stiff as he were made of steel
And plays at peacock 'twixt my legs right blithe, [struts proudly
And doth my tickling swag with many a sigh.
For, by Saint Runnion!s he'll refresh me well; [fat slovenly woman
And never make my tender belly swell."
Poor Priapus! whose triumph now must fall, [penis-god
Except thou thrust this weakling to the wall. [the dildo
Behold! how he usurps, in bed and bower
And undermines thy kingdom every hour; 250
How sly he creeps betwixt the bark and tree
And sucks the sap, whilst sleep detaineth thee.
He is my mistress' page at every stound,s [ moment
And soon will tents a deep-entrenchèd wound. [stanch, plug
He waits on courtly nymphs that be so coy,
And bids them scorn the blind-alluring boy.s [i.e., ignore Cupid
He gives young girls their gamesome sustenance,
And every gaping mouth his full sufficience.
He fortifies disdain with foreign arts,
And wanton-chaste deludes all loving hearts. 260
If any wights a cruel mistress serves, [ guy
Or, in despair, (unhappy) pines and starves,
Curse eunuch dildo, senseless counterfeit
Who (sooth!) may fill, but never can beget.
But, if revenge enraged with despair,
That such a dwarf his welfare should impair,
Would fains this woman's secretary know, [ wish
Let him attend the marks that I shall show:
He is a youth almost two handfuls high, [the dildo
Straight, round, and plumb, yet having but one eye, 270
Wherein the rheum so fervently doth reign, [lubricant
That Stygian gulf may scarce his tears contain;
Attired in white velvet, or in silk,
And nourish'd with hot water, or with milk,
Arm'd otherwhile in thick-congealed glass,
When he, more glib,s to hell below would pass. [ smoothly
Upon a chariot of five wheels he rides,
The which, an arm strong driver steadfast guides,
And often alters pace as ways grow deep,
(For who, in paths unknown, one gate can keep?) 280
Sometimes he smoothly slideth down the hill;
Another while, the stones his feet do kill;
In clammy ways he treadeth by and by,
And plasheth and sprayeth all that be him nigh.
So fares this jolly rider in his race,
Plunging and soursings forward in like case,s [ surging [ vagina
Bedash'd, bespurted, and beplodded foul.
God give thee shame, thou blind misshapen owl!
Fie, fie, for grief! a lady's chamberlain,
And canst not thou thy tattling tongue refrain? 290
I redes thee beardless blab, beware of stripes, [advise
And be advisèd what thou vainly pipes;
Thou wilt be whipp'd with nettles for this gear
If Cicely show but of thy knavery here.
Saint Deniss shield me from such female sprites! [ patron saint of France
Regard not, dames, what Cupid's poet writes:
I penn'd this story only for myself,
Who, giving suck unto a childish Elf,
And quite discourag'd in my nursery,
Since all my store seems to her penury. 300
I am not as was Hercules the stout,
That to the seventh journey could hold out;
I want those herbss and roots of Indian soil, [e.g., Viagra
That strengthen weary members in their toil---
Drugs and electuariess of new devise, [ medical pastes
Do shun my purse, that trembles at the price.
Sufficeth all I have, I yield her hole
Which, for a poor man, is a princely dole,
I pay our hostess scot and lots at most, [ local taxes; thoroughly
And look as lean and lank as any ghost! 310
What can be added more to my renown?
She lyeth breathless; I am taken down;
The waves do swell, the tides climb o'er the banks;
Judge, gentlemen! if I deserve not thanks?
And so, good night! unto you every one;
For lo, our thread is spun, our play is done.
Claudito iam vinos Priapa, sat prata biberunt.s
Tho. Nash
s "Priapus, drop the sluice-gates now, the meadws have had enough to drink"; parody of Virgil's Eclogues 3.111, which reads "pueri" (boys) instead of "Priape"
[Postscript:]
Thus hath my pen presumed to please my friend.s [F. Stanley, Ld. Strange
Oh, might'st thou likewise please Apollo's eye!
No, honor brooks no such impiety--
Yet Ovid's wanton Muse did not offend.
He is the fountain whence my streams do flow.
Forgive me if I speak as I was taught
Alike to women, utter all I know,
As longing to unlade so bad a fraught.s [ freight, load (of verse)
My mind, once purged of such lascivious wit,
With purified words and hallowed verse
Thy praises in large volumes shall rehearse,
That better may thy graver view befit.
Meanwhile yet rests you smile at what I write--
Or, for attempting, banish me your sight.
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fr. John Marston, Scourge of Villainy (1607)
O grievous misery!
Luscus hath left his female luxury
Ay, it left him. No, his old cynic Dad 35
Hath forc'd him clean forsake his Pick-hatch drab.
Alack, alack, what piece of lustful flesh
Hath Luscus left, his Priap to redress?
Grieve not, good soul--he hath his Ganymede,
His perfum'd she-goat, smooth-comb’d and high fed. 40
At Hogsdon now his monstrous lust he feasts,
For there he keeps a bawdy-house of beasts.
Paphus, let Luscus have his courtesan,
Or we shall have a monster of a man.
Tut, Paphus now detains him from that bower, 45
And clasps him close within his brick-built tower.
Diogenes, th'art damn'd for thy lewd wit,
For Luscus now hath skill to practise it.
Faith, what cares he for fair Cynedian boys?
Velvet-capp'd goats, Dutch mares? tut, common toys! 50
Detain them all, on this condition
He may but use the Cynic friction.
O now ye male stews, I can give pretense
For your luxurious incontinence...
..................
Had I some snout-fair brats, they should endure 75
The new-found Castilian calenture:
Before some pedant-tutor in his bed
Should use my fry like Phrygian Ganimed
.................
Yon’s but a muckhill overspread with snow,
Which with that veil doth even as fairly show
As the green meads, whose native outward fair
Breathes sweet perfumes into the neighbor air.
Yon effeminate sanguine Ganymede,
Is but a beaver, hunted for the bed.
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William Goddard, A Mastif Whelp (1599)
Satire 15
Some thinks that farthingales that's monstrous wide,
At first invented were only for pride,
But truly, none that thinketh so as this
But guess (believe me!) too too much amiss,
For they--aye, certainly, it's so surmis’d--
For these three reasons were at first devis’d:
First, for hot girls that subject are to sweat,
It lets up air whereby to cool their heat.
Then for the girl whose bum standeth not right
(Tough hopper-tail'd), yet that will hide it quite.
But chiefly does the wench, who through an itch
Has got (alas, I scratch a ---!)
Tis she, I say, that wears it not for pride,
For she (God wot!) can never ha ’t too wide;
She must have tricks (I deal too plain to scoff)
To bear up clothes--else they'd rub plasters off.
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John Healey, "Of Fooliana the Fat," in Discovery of a New World (1609)
Of Fooliana the Fat
Chap. 7, Sect. 1.
This region, compared either for wealth or pleasure with all the regions of this southern continent, exceeds them all: and were it as wealthy as it maketh show of, I make a great question whether the whole northern world could find a country to parallel it: but indeed the people thereof do generally feign to have what they have not, and to amplify by their braves that which they have indeed.
There is a double ledge of mountains extended some sixty German miles in length on either side, between which lieth a plain, full as long, and this is Fooliana the fat: through which, the river of Sound, a goodly current, hath his course, almost encircling the whole plain. The reader may soon conceive what a goodly rank of cities are seated on the mountains' sides, having the prospect over such a fertile plain, so delicately watered and divided into such a many cantons, all fraught with fat pastures and spacious champians. The neatness of the cities in this tract excels their number; yet are they but of a slender manner of building, and though their outward forms promise all decorum, yet when you are within you shall not find overmuch good order.
At the mouth of the passage through the Rhodomantadian Mountains standeth the city Hidalgo, otherwise called a "braggadrill"--proudly built, but beggarly stated (a); and near unto this, is Back-bitembourg, a town that may be mother to the dirty streets of Paris. By this town is a rock of incredible height, (and of as incredible note) called Breakneck Cliff: not much different from the Peak’s Crag in England. It is as broad at the top as at the bottom: and yet so steep that it beareth the form rather of a tower built by man’s hand, than any mere work of nature. And this rock is as famous for a place of execution here, as ever the Tarpeian Cliff was in Rome. On the other side of this famous hill, hath the city of Bawdsden her seat. This town hath been oftener on fire than ever was old Rome: partly through the negligence of the citizens, and partly through the aptness to take fire that is in the bitumen which they use in their buildings instead of lime. Adjoining unto this is another city called Punks-nest, built all of flint, and the hardest cement that can be devised. And then a little further in, towards the frontiers of Idle-bergh, lie those large mountains, commonly called Hollyday-Hills, where the people keep continual revels, and sit in judgment upon such as observe any working-days: two cities there are upon these hills, Gamesware and Merry-cum-twang: and on the east side of these two, the river of Sound falls into the river of Idle, making three or four islands--Skip-free Isles, the inhabitants called them--where the people’s continual exercise is in dancing unto the sound of musical instruments.
(a) Like Madrid in Spain.
The Quality and Condition of the People. Sect. 2.
Every particular man in this country avouches himself at least a gentleman born: and most of them are able to show a pedigree of ten thousand years, long before ever the world was created. You shall have them show ye large galleries, all drawn with their lineal and collateral descents, and yet when all comes to all, their neighbors are able to prove, that they had cobblers, carters, or costermongers to their grandfathers. Nor is there any of their more select gentility but hath his country garms, three or four, leased out unto his "Viliacoes," his retainers, and those are commonly clawback-courtiers.
The "Sennaladij" (a), their best sort of gentlemen, do content themselves with the poorest fare that ever attended a fasting-day: yet some of them perhaps at the year’s end, will make a feast, which for excess of preparation and multitude of guests, will give an end to the bidder’s whole revenues: but all the year after, he will so defraud his barking stomach, that many of them (I assure you it is true) do destroy themselves through mere hunger. Others of them, let the guts groan never-so-loud, never respect the belly but clap all they can scrape upon the back; yet will they neither acknowledge nor confess their defect of belly-timber, but quite contrary, wheresoever you meet them about dinnertime, you shall have them go brushing of their beards and picking of their teeth, as if they were newly come from the death of an whole deluge of several dishes. There is none of them hath so much either money or land as his cloak and sword would purchase: nor any of them that keeps not above an hundred "Munch-gains" (b)--for so they call their servants--yet have they nothing in the world but they pay interest for it (no man will lend them a quatrine upon their credits) insomuch that I have known divers of them hire their apparel at the Brokeria, only for four-and-twenty hours. Nay. I knew one of them build his horse a stable fitter for a king’s horse than his, adorning it with far-fetched marble, nay, and enchasing the walls and pillars with ivory--and he himself meanwhile sat warming of his heels in a poor little, straw-thatched cottage.
They give themselves tedious long names (c), and delight unmeasurably to have their country and their alliance mentioned in their styles, adding such compositions, and reduplications unto their prolix titles, that to recite them with one breath is a thing directly impossible. Ostridge feathers are dear with them, as Russian furs are with us. Some of them use to hang silver bells at their heels, by the noise whereof they may attract the people’s eyes upon their graceful carriage as they pass the streets. Those few of them that cannot deny their births to be base, are nevertheless of as haughty spirits as the rest. I remember I read this distich over one of their doors: "Misero quello, chi di persona vile, / Nasce di cor magnanimo e gentile!" (O wretched he, that having had his birth / From a brave spirit, basely affecteth earth!).
One thing I marveled at above all the rest, as I lawfully might. There are few of this nation that live by meat, or by drink, but altogether upon the fume of a certain herb; which they take in smoke at their mouths, and give it out at their noses, resembling the fumes of so many brewer’s chimneys. I know not certainly whether they had this from the Indians, or the Indians from them. It is reported, that one Rollo Warallador, an ungodly fellow of this country (though one of good place) was taught the invention of this wicked vapor by an Indian devil: yet some affirm that the Indians of the Torrid Zone invented the same to make themselves black within disliking utterly to have their inner parts of one color, and their outward of another. But this I am sure of once, that though it fill the nostrils, it empties the coffers, or that many good patrimonies have by this means gone in snuff out of their owners’ noses: that smoked so long in fume, till all the fat was in the fire, and all the fire out of the kitchen.
In all the cities, especially in Bawdsden and Punks-nest, every other house keeps sale truggs or Ganymedes, all which pay a yearly stipend for the license they have to trade. It is very lawful to deal with these upon any conditions you can make with them; it is no shame for a man to salute his cockatrice (aye, and to do more, too, to kiss her) in the very market place, yea, even before his wife. Nay, you shall have some of them will make their wives observe their humors with all serviceable attendance.....
(a) Quasi senza lode, unworthy of praise.
(b) Mange-guadagnos: so the Italians cal their servants.
(c) As he did who demanding lodging at a mean inn, and being asked what he was: "Our name," quoth he, "is Hernando Gonzales Ribadencira de Toledo. "By my troth sir," quoth the Hostess, "we have not beds enow for so many!"
======================================================
Gervase Markham, The Famous Whore, or Noble Curtizan (1609)
The poet predicts dire results if prostitutes were to be banished from Rome:
.... For if all courtesans, or their defect,s [ euphemism for sin
Which Rome so much doth honor and affect,s [ adore
Shall be exil'd, and leave this well-known ground,
What strangers then to live here will be found? [ visitor, foreigner
If theys be banish'd hence, through thy great hate, [ prostitutes
Rome will be desert,s and unfortunate. [ deserted
All will be gone, or else&endash;in woman's stead&endash;
Each man will have for lust his Ganymede!
Amongst all evils we the least should choose--
Take women, then, burdashess do refuse. [ boy prostitutes
The first is natural, although a crime,
Th' other horrid, damn'd the spew of time,
O times, O manners, O unlucky age,
O Rome, once master, now worse than a page!
(lines 970-84)
=============================================================
Richard Corbett , fr. "Satire 6," The Times' Whistle (1615)
Where gold makes way
There is no interruption, no delay 2550
Can hinder his proceeding; therefore, wench,
Thou may'st with a bold face confront the bench.
If thy forerunners bribes have made thy peace,
Thy shame shall vanish, but thy sin increase,
And when thou once hast scaped this annoy,
Go to it roundly for another boy;
Lose not an inch of pleasure, though thou gain,
For momentany joys, eternal pain.
But yet be sure, if thou still go about
To play the drab, my pen shall paint thee out, 2560
And thy lewd acts upon thy forehead score,
That all the world may note thee for a whore.
O Linceus, that I had thy searching eye!
Then would I in each secret corner pry,
To find the hidden knaveries of this age,
And lay them open to this paper stage.
Then Glabria should not, with her wanton eye,
Allure fair Quintus to her villainy,
But I would straight detect her for the crime,
And hinder their appointed meeting-time. 2570
Then Lusco, 'cause his wife 's in years decayed,
Should not entice to ill her waiting-maid,
But I would spy them out and note them down,
To her discredit and his small renown.
Then Scilla, 'cause she might without suspect
Play the lewd harlot and none might detect
Her lustful conversation, should not hide
Her looseness in a masculine outside,
But with my pen I soon would her uncase,
And lay her open to no mean disgrace. 2580
Then Galla, that insatiate city dame,
(Which loves a player, 'cause he hath the fame
Of a rare Actor, and doth in his part
Conquer huge giants, and captive the heart
Of amorous ladies) should not him entice,
Prone (as all players are) unto this vice,
With goodly presents. I their match would let,
Or catch them sleeping in a Vulcan's net,
And having caught them to the world display
How lusty Mars with lustful Venus lay. 2590
Then lustful Jove, what shape soe’er he took
Should not deceive mine eye, nor scape my book.
Thy lust Pasiphae I 'd set to th' full,
Whose bestial appetite desired a bull.
Mirrha, thou shouldst not scape, that didst desire
To make thy father to thy child a sire.
But since I cannot, as I would, be fitted,
Let me detect what I have known committed:
It was my fortune, with some others moe,
One summers day a progress for to go 2600
Into the country, as the time of year
Required, to make merry with good cheer.
(Imagine Islington to be the place,
The journey "to eat cream," under the face
Of these lewd meetings, on set purpose fitted,
Much villainy is hourly committed).
But to proceed; some thought there would not be
Good mirth without fair wenches' company,
And therefore had provided, aforehand,
Of wives and maids a just proportioned band 2510
In number to the men of us; each one
Might have his wench unto himself alone.
I that, till afterwards, not comprehended
Whereto this meeting chiefly was intended,
But thought indeed the only true intent
To spend the time in honest merriment,---
Went 'mongst the thickest, and had intercourse
In many a mad and sensual discourse.
Among the womenkind a wife there was,
(Her name I could not learn, I therefore pass 2620
It over; but a feigned one to frame,
Call her "Veneria," that 's the fittest name.)
This wife, which with the maids did hold her walk,
I chanced to overhear in her lewd talk,
How she did them by arguments persuade
To use the pleasure of the common trade,
I will repeat, that you may judge with me,
Women most prone to filthy luxury.
"My friends," quoth she, "first, all of you must know,
Good things more common do the better grow; 2630
For 'tis an axiom in morality,
Which you must all believe for verity.
If, then, community do goodness add
To actions that are good, who 'd be so mad
To lose the virtue of this common good
When 't may be purchased without loss of blood?
For that 'tis good, I think you'll not deny,
Or if you do, then thus I do reply:---
To do our friend a pleasure 's a good deed,
If it be done for love, and not for mead; 2640
To do an act that adds to our delight
Is it not good? what fool will once deny 't?
Besides, the name imports it to be good,
For we a good turn call it. With my blood,
If all this be to weak, I will maintain
There none of all our sex that would refrain
To use the pleasure of this known delight,
If fear did not restrain their appetite.
And this I hold, that secret lechery
Is a less sin than close hypocrisy. 2650
A preacher told me that the action wrought
(Because more seldom than the wandering thought)
Is not so great a fault, so we choose time
And place convenient to conceal our crime;
And that we will not want, nor lusty boys
Able to give a wench her fill of joys.
Then to it, lasses, when you have desire,
'Tis dangerous to suppress a flaming fire!"
To hear this lewdness both mine ears did glow
But I bit in my tongue, lest there should grow 2660
Some discontentment 'mongst them by my speech,
Which happily might have procured a breach
Among us; and indeed, so much the rather,
Because by circumstances I did gather
Wherefore this meeting was, and did intend
To observe all unto the very end.
By this time we th' appointed place attained,
Where straight with welcomes we were entertained.
Music was sent for, and good cheer prepared,
With which more like to Epicures we fared 2670
Than Christians; plenty of wine and cream
Did even upon our table seem to stream,
With other dainties. Not a fiddler’s boy
But with the relics of our feast did cloy
His hungry stomach. After this repast
(Which feast with many a bawdy song was graced)
Some fell to dancing, which is a cause
That many unto fornication draws,
In which lascivious kind of merriment,
Till the dark evening did approach, we spent 2680
The lightsome day. But now the time drew nigh
That was comprised to act their villainy:
And therefore after candles were brought in
(For then the night grew on) we did begin
The fiddlers to discharge, who, being gone,
There straight was held a consultation,
In which, when each man had his wench assigned,
The filthiness of this lewd act to blind
With darkness, all the candles were put out--
Which, favoring my intent, I left the rout 2690
And closely stole away, having defrayed
A great part of the reckoning; which I paid
Whilst they were all full busy in the dark,
Because they should not think I came to shark
Only for victuals. How the rest agreed,
Judge you which do this true narration read. ...
[London's Industry in Prostitution]
These bawds which do inhabit Troynovant,
And jet it up and down i' th' streets, a-flaunt
In the best fashion, thus uphold their state,
As I have heard a friend of mine relate,
Who once in private manner with another
Went purposely their fashions to discover: 2730
They do retain besides these common queans,
Even men’s wives which are of greatest means,
That yearly pay them tribute for their lust,
Upon whose secrecy they do entrust
Their blotted reputation, for which pleasure
They lewdly do consume their husband’s treasure.
The custom of these bawds is thus: if any
Repair unto them (as God knows too many
Run to this sink of sin), at the first view
To show their cheapest ware; if they will glue 2740
Their slimy bodies to those common whores,
The bawds proceed no farther, keep the doors,
The price paid, which repentance finds too dear,
And (the act done) do straight the men cashier.
But if some gallant whose outside doth hold
Great expectation that good store of gold
Will from his bounty shower into their laps,
Come to demand (for so it often haps)
To see their choicest beauties, him they bring
(After request not to say anything) 2750
Into a private room, which round about
Is hung with pictures; all which goodly rout
Is framed of Venus’ fashion, females all,
Whom if I name "whores," I no whit miscall,
For so they are, whom these do represent.
All city dames, which usually frequent
This cursed place, who, though they go full brave,
Are in their lust insatiate as the grave.
That picture which doth best affect the eye
Of this luxurious gallant, instantly 2760
Is by some train brought thither in true shape
Of lively substance. ...
/ ... /
Thus is the worthiest city of our land
Made a base brothel-house, by a lewd band
Of shameless strumpets, whose uncurbed swing
Many poor souls unto confusion bring. 2790
You magistrates, which hold Astræa’s sword,
For country’s cause join all with one accord
To clear the city of this cursed crew,
Lest the whole land the noisomeness do rue
Of their contagion. For the better health
Of the whole body of the commonwealth,
Cut off these rotten members, and begin
First at the head of this notorious sin!
For this is written on the Lydian stone:
"The effect doth perish when the cause is gone." 2800
These bawds and panders which do give receipt
(Being indeed the means whereby they eat)
To whores and ruffians, whose damned villainy
Doth purchase gold an sell iniquity;
Were they expelled the city, there would grow
More continence, from them these heads do flow;
The springs of lust. These fountains being drawn dry,
The lesser streams would stint immediately.
Lop off these ulcered members of our land,
These putrefied members. With the hand 2810
Of justice chase hence this ungodly rout,---
Subtract the fuel and the fire goes out,---
And let our land this damned devilish crew,
As excrements, out of her bosom spew;
And then you manifestly shall perceive
The greater part their brutish lust will leave. ...
=============================================================
Bawdy verses, 17th century, ed. DWF
The Westminster Whore (ca. 1610-20)
Edited from Bodleian MS Rawl. poet. B35, fol. 36.
As I went to Westminster Abbey
I saw a young wench on her back
Cramming in a dildo of tabby
Into her till ’twas ready to crack.
5 "By your leave," said I, "pretty maid,
Methinks your sport is but dry!"
"I can get no better," she said, "Sir,
And I’ll tell you the reason why:
"Madam P. hath a thing at her breech,
10 Sucks up all the scad of the town.
She’s a damned lascivious bitch
And fucks for half a crown.
Now the curse of a cunt without hair,
And ten thousand poxes upon her!
15 We poor whores may go hang in despair:
We’re undone by the maids of honor."
Then in loyalty as I was bound,
Hearing her speak in this sort,
I fucked her thrice on the ground,
20 And bid her speak well of the court.
An Historical Ballad (ca. 1660)
Edited from Ane Pleasant Garden (ca. 1800)
Much has been said of strumpets of yore,
Of Lais whole volumes, of Messaline more.
But I sing of a lewder than e’er lived before,
Which nobody can deny.
5 From her mother at first she drew the infection,
And as soon as she spoke she made use of injection,
And now she’s grown up to a girl of perfection,
Which nobody can deny.
If you told her of hell, she would say ’twas a jest,
10 And swear of all gods, that Priapus was best,
For her soul was a whore when she sucked at the breast,
Which nobody can deny.
She once was called virgin, but ’twas but a sham.
Her maidenhead never was gotten by man &emdash;
15 She frigged it away in the womb of her dam,
Which the midwife couldn’t deny.
At length Mr. Fopling made her his bride
But found (to bring down his ambition and pride)
Her fortune but narrow, and her cunt very wide,
20 Which he himself can’t deny.
In vain he long strove to satiate her lust
Which still grew more vig’rous at every thrust.
No wonder the puny chit came by the worst,
Which nobody can deny.
25 For when he grew sapless, she gave him her blessing
And left him to painting, to patching and dressing,
But first dubbed him cuckold, a strange way of jesting,
Which nobody can deny.
And now she is free to swive where she pleases
30 And where e’er she swives, she scatters diseases,
And a chancre’s a damned loving thing where it seizes
Which nobody can deny.
There’s Haughton and Elland and Ellan the sot
(She deserves to be poxed that would fuck with a Scot!)
35 All charged the lewd harlot, and all went to pot,
Which they themselves can’t deny &emdash;
For that she has buboed and ruined as many
As Hinton or Willis, Moll Howard, or any,
And like to those punks, will fuck for a penny,
40 Is what nobody can deny.
To scour the town is her darling delight
In breaking of windows, to scratch and to fight,
And to lie with her own brawny footman at night,
Which she herself can’t deny.
45 Who, though they eternally pizzle her britch,
Can’t allay the wild rage of her lecherous itch,
Which proves our good lady a monstrous bitch,
Which they themselves can’t deny.
But now if there’s any, or Christian or Jew,
50 That say I’ve belied her, I advise ’em to go
And ask the fair creature herself if ’tis true,
Which I’m certain she won’t deny.
The Maid a’ Bathing
Edited from Merry Drollery Compleat (1661),
p. 148; music in Dancing Master (1650-5)
Upon a summer’s day
’Bout middle of the morn,
I spied a lass that lay
Stark nak’d as she was born.
5 ’Twas by a running pool
Within a meadow green,
And there she lay to cool,
Not thinking to be seen.
Then did she by degrees
10 Wash every part in rank:
Her arms, her breasts, her thighs,
Her belly and her flank.
Her legs she opened wide,
My eyes I let down-steal
15 Until that I espied
Dame Nature’s privy seal.
I stripped me to the skin
And boldy stepped unto her.
Thinking her love to win,
20 I thus began to woo her:
"Sweet heart, be not so coy!
Time’s sweet, in pleasure spent."
She frowned and cried, "Away!"&endash;
Yet, smiling, gave consent.
25 Then, blushing, down she slid,
Seeming to be amazed.
But heaving up her head,
Again she on me gazed.
I, seeing that, lay down
30 And boldly ’gan to kiss.
And she did smile, and frown,
And so fell to our bliss.
Then lay she on the ground
As though she had been sped.
35 As women in a swoon
Yield up, and yet not dead,
So did this lively maid
When hot blood filled her vein&endash;
And coming to herself, she said,
40 "I thank you for your pain."
The Willing Lover (ca. 1650)
Edited from Wit and Drollery (1661), p. 116
She lay up to the navel bare
And was a willing lover,
Expecting, between hope and fear,
When I would come and cover.
5 Her hand beneath my waistband slips
To grope in busy wise,
Which caused a trembling in her lips
And shivering in her eyes.
The blood out of her face did go
10 As it on service went,
To second what was gone before &emdash;
When all its strength was spent.
Her cheeks and lips as coral red
Like roses were full blown &emdash;
15 Which, fading straight, the leaves were spread &emdash;
And so the ------ comes down.
Her breasts then both panting were
Such comfort wrought between us,
That all the world, I dare to swear,
20 Would envy to have seen us.
Her belly and its provender
For me was kept in store.
Such news to hear and not t’ have share
Would ha’ made a man a whore.
25 Her legs were girt about my waist,
My hands under her crupper,
As who should say, "Now, break your fast,
And come again to supper!" &emdash;
Even as the god of war did knock
30 (As any other man will)
For haste, of work at twelve o’clock
Kept Vulcan at his anvil.
"Mad wag," quoth she, "why dost thou make
Such haste thyself to rear?
35 Can’st thou not know that for thy sake
The Fair lasts all the year?"
Quiet and calm as are love’s streams
I threw myself about her.
But a pox upon true jests and dreams &emdash;
40 I had better have lain without her!
As was Riding by the Way (ca. 1620-50)
Edited from the Percy Folio manuscript, p. 104
As I was riding by the way,
A woman proffered me a bag,
And forty cattle more, to stay
And give her belly but a swag.
5 A pox on the whore, they were but scraps
That I supposed was single money.
The cattle had lice &emdash; or else perhaps
I had lit, and took her by the cunny.
I had not further rid a mile
10 But I met with a market maid
Who sung, the way for to beguile
In these same words, and thus she said:
"I see the bull doth bull the cow,
And shall I live a maiden still?
15 I see the boar doth brim the sow,
And yet there is never a Jack for Jill."
I had some hope, and to her spoke,
"Sweet heart, shall I put my flesh in thine?"
"With all my heart, Sir &emdash; your nose in my arse!"
20 Quoth she, "for to keep out the wind!"
She rid upon a tired mare,
And to revenge (no time withstood),
I bluntly asked for to occupy her,
But first she would know wherefore that was good.
25 "It will make thee lively," I did say,
"Put joy and spirit instead of woe."
"Then occupy my mare, I pray,
Good Sir, for she can hardly go."
I milder grew, and would but feel.
30 She said she was never felt but kissed.
I was content &emdash; and she said, "Weal,
You’st kiss my bum, and feel my fist!"
I was red and pale with shame and spite,
To be so answered of the drab,
35 That I swore, and spurred, and away did ride,
And of my wooing was no blab.
Why Do You Trifle (ca. 1610-20)
Edited fr. Bodleian MS. Rawlinson B35, 54v.
Why do you trifle? Fie upon’t,
Fie upon’t, fie upon’t, fie upon’t!
Why do you trifle? Fie upon’t!
Those are not men but idle drones
5 That stay till ladies make their moans.
’Tis pity, but they lost their &endash;labor!
Fie upon’t, fie upon’t, fie upon’t!
’Tis pity, but they lost their &endash;labor!
He shall not do so that I love,
10 That I love, that I love,
He shall not do so that I love,
But, so soon as I am sick,
Shall never fail me in the nick
To give me proof of his good &endash;meaning!
15 That I love, that I love, that I love,
To give me proof of his good &endash;meaning!
Nor can it be too thick and long,
Thick and long, thick and long.
If any of you chance to fear
20 That I’m too young, pray, look you here:
Few maids can show you so much &endash;favor!
Thick and long, thick and long, thick and long.
Few maid can show you so much &endash;favor!
Fain would I go, both up and down,
25 Up and down, up and down.
No child is fonder of the gig
Than I to dance a merry jig.
Fain would I try how I could &endash;caper.
Up and down, up and down, up and down,
30 Fain would I try how I could &endash;caper.
Come, let us do then you know what,
You know what, you know what.
Why should I not endure the brunt
As well as other maids have done’t?
35 I’m sure I have as good a &endash;courage!
You know what, you know what, you know what:
I’m sure I have as good a &endash;courage!
Sweet, if you love me, then again,
Then again, then again!
40 Had ever maiden that good luck
For to encounter the first pluck?
Oh, ’twould invite a maiden to &endash;marry!
Then again, then again, then again!
Oh, ’twould invite a maiden to &endash;marry!
A Dallying with a Lady (ca. 1610-20)
By "Mr. Mark P."
Edited fr. Bodleian MS Rawlinson poet. 214, fol. 75v.
Nay, pish, nay, fie, nay, out upon’t!
For shame! Nay, take away your hand!
In faith, you are to blame!
Nay, come, this fooling must not be.
5 Nay, pish! Nay, fie, you tickle me!
Your buttons scrub me, you crumple my hand,
You hurt my thighs! Pray, take away your hand! &emdash;
The door stands open, that all may see!
Nay, pish! Nay, fie, you tickle me!
10 When you and I shall meet in place,
Both together, face to face,
I’ll not cry out. Then you, then you shall see.
Nay, pish! Nay, fie, you tickle me!
But now I see my words are but vain,
15 For I have done’t! Why should I complain?
The way is open, and all is free:
Since ’tis no more, pray, tickle me!
================================================
John Ford, 'Tis Pity She's a Whore (1633; ed. DWF, 1999)
The Scene, PARMA.
The Actors' Names.
Florio, A Citizen of Parma.
Giovanni, Son to Florio.
Annabella, Daughter to Florio.
Putana, Tutoress to Annabella.
Donado, Another Citizen.
Grimaldi, A Roman Gentleman.
Bergetto, Nephew to Donado.
Poggio, Servant to Bergetto.
Richardette, A supposed Physician.
Hippolita, Wife to Richardette
Philotis, His Niece.
Bonaventura, A Friar.
A Cardinall, Nuntio [messenger] to the Pope.
Soranzo, A Nobleman.
Vasques, Servant to Soranzo.
Bandetti
To my Friend the Author:
With admiration I beheld this Whore
Adorned with beauty, such as might restore
(If ever being as thy Muse hath famed)
Her Giovanni, in his loves, unblamed:
The ready graces lent their willing aid,
Pallas herself now played the chambermaid
And helped to put her dressings on: secure
Rest thou, that thy name herein shall endure
To th' end of age; and Annabella be
Gloriously fair, even in her infamy.
Thomas Ellice.
Act 1
Enter Friar and Giovanni
Friar.
Dispute no more in this, for know, young man,
These are no school-points. Nice philosophy
May tolerate unlikely arguments,
But heaven admits no jest. Wits that presumed
On wit too much, by striving how to prove
There was no God with foolish grounds of art,
Discovered first the nearest way to Hell
And filled the world with devilish atheism.
Such questions, youth, are fond. For better 'tis
To bless the sun than reason why it shines;
Yet he thou talk'st of is above the sun.
No more! I may not hear it.
Giovanni.
Gentle Father,
To you I have unclasped my burthened soul,
Emptied the storehouse of my thoughts and heart,
Made myself poore of secrets; have not left
Another word untold, which hath not spoke
All what I ever durst, or think, or know;
And yet is here the comfort I shall have,
Must I not do, what all men else may--love?
Friar.
Yes. You may love, fair son.
Giovanni.
Must I not praise
That beauty, which if fram'd anew, the gods
Would make a god of, if they had it there?
[25] And kneele to it, as I do kneele to them?
Friar.
Why, foolish madman?
Giovanni.
Shall a peevish sound,
A customary form, from man to man,
Of brother and of sister, be a bar
Twixt my perpetuall happiness and me?
Say that we had one father, say one wombe,
(Curse to my joyes) gave both us life, and birth;
Are we not therefore each to other bound
So much the more by Nature; by the the links
Of blood, of reason; Nay if you will have't,
Even of Religion, to be ever one,
One soul, one flesh, one love, one heart, one All?
Friar.
Have done unhappy youth, for thou art lost.
Giovanni.
Shall then, (for that I am her brother born)
My joyes be ever banisht from her bed?
No Father; in your eyes I see the change.
Of pity and compassion: from your age
As from a sacred Oracle distills
The life of Counsell: tell me holy man,
What Cure shall give me ease in these extreames.
Friar.
Repentance (son) and sorrow for this sin:
For thou hast mou'd a Maiesty above
With thy un-raunged (almost) Blasphemy.
Giovanni.
O do not speak of that (dear Confessor)
Friar.
[50] Art thou (my son) that miracle of Wit,
Who once within these three Months wert esteem'd
A wonder of thine age, throughout Bononia?
How did the University applaud
Thy Goverment, Behaviour, Learning, Speech,
Sweetnesse, and all that could make up a man?
I was proud of my Tutellage, and chose
Rather to leave my Bookes, then part with thee,
I did so: but the fruites of all my hopes
Are lost in thee, as thou art in thyself.
O Giovanni: hast thou left the Schooles
Of Knowledge, to converse with Lust and Death?
(For Death waits on thy Lust) looke through the world,
And thou shalt see a thousand faces shine
More glorious, then this Idoll thou ador'st:
Leave her, and take thy choyce, 'tis much less sin,
Though in such games as those, they lose that win.
Giovanni.
It were more ease to stop the Ocean
From floates and ebbs, then to disswade my vower.
Friar.
Then I have done, and in thy wilfull flames
Already see thy ruin; Heaven is just,
Yet hear my counsell.
Giovanni.
As a voyce of life.
Friar.
Hye to thy Fathers house, there lock thee fast
Alone within thy Chamber, then fall down
[75] On both thy knees, and grovell on the ground:
Cry to thy heart, wash every word thou utter'st
In tears, (and if't be possible) of blood:
Begge Heaven to cleanse the leprosy of Lust
That rots thy Soul, acknowledge what thou art,
A wretch, a worm, a nothing: weepe, sigh, pray
Three times a day, and three times every night:
For seven days space do this, then if thou find'st
No change in thy desires, return to me:
I'll think on remedy, pray for thyself
At home, whil'st I pray for thee here---away,
My blessing with thee, we have need to pray.
Giovanni.
All this I'll do, to free me from the rod
Of vengeance, else I'll swear, my Fate's my God.
Exeunt.
Enter Grimaldi and Vasques ready to fight.
Vasquez.
Come sir, stand to your tackling, if you prove Craven, I'll make you run quickly.
Grimaldi.
Thou art no equall match for me.
Vasquez.
Indeed I never went to the wars to bring home newes, nor cannot play the Mountibank for a meales meate, and swear I got my wounds in the field: see you these gray hairs, they'll not flinch for a bloody nose, wilt thou to this gear?
Grimaldi.
Why slave, think'st thou I'll ballance my reputation
With a Cast-suite; Call thy Maister, he shall know that I dare---
Vasquez.
Scold like a Cot-quean (that's your Profession) thou poore shaddow of a Souldier, I will make thee know, my
Maister keepes [100] Servants, thy betters in quality and performance; Com'st thou to fight or prate?
Grimaldi.
Neither with thee,
I am a Romane, and a Gentleman, one that have got
Mine honour with expence of blood.
Vasquez.
You are a lying Coward, and a foole, fight, or by these Hilts
I'll kill thee.---brave my Lord,---you'll fight.
Grimaldi.
Prouoake me not, for if thou dost---
They fight, Grimal. hath the worst.
Vasquez.
Have at you.
Enter Florio, Donado, Soranzo.
Florio.
What meaned these sudden broyles so near my dores?
Have you not other places, but my house
To vent the spleen of your disordered bloods?
Must I be haunted still with such unrest,
As not to eate, or sleep in peace at home?
Is this your love Grimaldi? Fie, t'is naught.
Donado.
And Vasques. I may tell thee 'tis not well
To broach these quarrels, you are ever forward
In seconding contentions.
Enter above Annabella and Putana.
Florio.
What's the ground?
Soranzo.
That with your patience Signiors, I'll resolve:
This Gentleman, whom fame reports a souldier,
(For else I know not) rivals me in love
To Signior Florio's Daughter; to whose ears
He still preferrs his suite to my disgrace,
Thinking the way to recommend himself,
[125] Is to disparage me in his report:
But know Grimaldi, though (may be) thou art
My equall in thy blood, yet this bewrays
A lowness in thy minde; which wer't thou Noble
Thou would'st as much disdain, as I do thee
For this unworthinesse; and on this ground
I will'd my Servant to correct this tongue,
Holding a man, so base, no match for me.
Vasquez.
And had your suddane comming prevented us, I had let my Gentleman blood under the gilles; I should have worm'd you Sir, for running madde.
Grimaldi.
Ile be reveng'd Soranzo.
Vasquez.
On a dish of warm-broth to stay your stomack, do honest Innocence, do; spone-meat is a wholesomer dyet then a spannish blade.
Grimaldi.
I will remember this.
Soranzo.
I fear thee not Grimaldi.
Exit Grimaldi
Florio.
My Lord Soranzo, this is strange to me,
Why you should storm, having my word engag'd:
Owing her heart, what need you doubt her ear?
Loosers may talke by law of any game.
Vasquez.
Yet the villain of words, signior Florio may be such,
As would make any unspleen'd Dove, Chollerick,
Blame not my Lord in this.
Florio.
Be you more silent,
[150] I would not for my wealth, my daughters love
Should cause the spilling of one drop of blood.
Vasques put up, let's end this fray in wine.
Exeunt.
Putana.
How like you this child? here's threatning challenging, quarrelling, and fighting, on every side, and all is for your sake; you had need looke to yourself (Chardge) you'll be stolne away sleeping else shortly.
Annabella.
But (Tutresse) such a life, gives no content
To me, my thoughts are fixt on other ends;
Would you would leave me.
Putana.
Leave you? no marvail else; leave me, no leaving (Chardge)
This is love outright, Indeed I blame you not, you have
Choyce fit for the best Lady in Italy.
Annabella.
Pray do not talke so much.
Putana.
Take the worst with the best, there's Grimaldi the souldier a very well-timbred fellow: they say he is a Roman, /
Nephew to the Duke Mount Ferratto, they say he did good service in the warrs against the Millanoys, but faith
(Chardge) I do not like him, and be for nothing, but for being a souldier; one amongst twenty of your skirmishing Captains, but have some pryuie mayme or other, that mars their standing upright,
I like him the worse, he crinckles so much in the hams; though he might serue, if their were no more men, yet he?s not the man I would choose.
Annabella.
Fye how thou prat'st.
Putana.
[175] As I am a very woman, I like Signiour Soranzo, well; he is wise, and what is more, rich; and what is more then that, kind, and what is more then all this, a Noble-man; such a one were I the fair Annabella, myself, I would wish and pray for: then he is bountifull; besides he is handsome, and, by my troth, I think wholsome:
(and that's newes in a gallant of three and twenty.) liberall that I know: loving, that you know; and a man sure, else he could never ha' purchast such a good name, with Hippolita the lustie Widdow in her husbands life time: And t'were but for that report (sweet heart) would a were thine: Commend a man for his qualities, but take a husband as he is a plain-sufficient, naked man: such a one is for your bed, and such a one is Signior
Soranzo my life for't.
Annabella.
Sure the woman tooke her mornings Draught to soon.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Putana.
But looke (sweet heart,) looke what thinge comes now:
Here's another of your cyphers to fill up the number:
Oh brave old Ape in a silken Coate, obserue.
Bergetto.
Did'st thou think Poggio, that I would spoyle my
New cloathes, and leave my dinner to fight.
Poggio.
No Sir, I did not take you for so arrant a babie.
Bergetto.
I am wyser then so: for I hope Poggio, thou
Never heard'st of an elder brother, that was a Coxcomb,
Did'st Poggio?
Poggio.
Never indeed Sir, as long as they had either land or mony left them to inherit.
Bergetto.
[200] Is it possible Poggio? oh monstruous! why Ile undertake, with a handfull of siluer, to buy a headfull of wit at any tyme, but sirrah, I have another purchase in hand, I shall have the wench myne unckle says, I will but wash my face, and shift socks, and then have at her yfaith---
Marke my pace Poggio.
Poggio.
Sir I have seen an Asse, and a Mule trot the Spannish pavin with a better grace, I know not how often.
Exeunt
Annabella.
This Ideot haunts me too.
Putana.
I, I, he needs no discription, the rich Magnifico, that is below with your Father (Chardge) Signior Donado his
Unckle; for that he meanes to make this his Cozen a golden calfe, thinks that you wil be a right Isralite, and fall down to him presently: but I hope I have tuterd you better: they say a fooles bable is a Ladies play fellow: yet you having wealth enough, you need not cast upon the dearth of flesh at any rate: hang him Innocent.
Enter Giovanni.
Annabella.
But see Putana, see: what blessed shape
Of some cælestiall Creature now appears?
What man is he? that with such sad aspect
Walkes careless of himself?
Putana.
Where?
Annabella.
Looke below.
Putana,
Oh, 'tis your brother sweet---
Annabella.
Ha!
Putana.
'Tis your brother.
Anna,
[225] Sure 'tis not he? this is some woefull thinge
Wrapt up in griefe, some shaddow of a man.
Alas he beats his brest, and wipes his eyes
Drown'd all in tears: me thinks I hear him sigh.
Lets downe; Putana, and pertake the cause,
I know my Brother in the Love he bears me,
Will not denye me partage in his sadnesse,
My soul is full of heaviness and fear.
Exit.
Giovanni.
Lost, I am lost: my fates have doom'd my death:
The more I strive, I love, the more I love,
The less I hope: I see my ruin, certain.
What judgement, or endeuors could apply
To my incurable and restless wounds,
I throughly have examin'd, but in vain:
O that it were not in Religion sin,
To make our love a God, and worship it.
I have even wearied heaven with prayers, dryed up
The spring of my continuall tears, even steru'd
My veins with daily fasts: what wit or Art
Could Counsel, I have practiz'd; but alas
I find all these but dreames, and old mens tales
To flight unsteedy youth; I'me still the same,
Or I must speak, or burst; tis not I know,
My lust; but tis my fare that leads me on.
Keep fear and low faint hearted shame with slaves,
[250] Ile tell her, that I love her, though my heart
Were rated at the price of that attempt.
Oh me! she comes.
Enter Anna and Putana.
Annabella.
Brother.
Giovanni.
If such a thing
As Courage dwell in men, (ye heavenly powers)
Now double all that vertue in my tongue.
Annabella.
Why Brother, will you not speak to me?
Giovanni.
Yes; how d'ee Sister?
Annabella.
Howsoever I am, me thinks you are not well.
Putana.
Bless us why are you so sad Sir.
Giovanni.
Let me intreat you leave us awhile, Putana,
Sister, I would be pryvate with you.
Annabella.
With-drawe Putana.
Putana.
I will. If this were any other Company for her, I should think my absence an office of some credit, but I will leave them together.
Exit Putana.
Giovanni.
Come Sister lend your hand, let's walke together.
I hope you need not blush to walke with me,
Here's none but you and I.
Annabella.
How's this?
Giovanni.
Faith I mean no harm.
Annabella.
Harm?
Giovanni.
No good faith; how ist with'ee?
Annabella.
I trust he be not frantick---
[275] I am very well brother.
Giovanni.
Trust me but I am sick, I fear so sick,
'Twill cost my life.
Annabella.
Mercy forbid it: 'tis not so I hope.
Giovanni.
I think you love me Sister.
Annabella.
Yes you know, I do.
Giovanni.
I know't indeed---y'are very fair.
Annabella.
Nay then I see you have a merry sicknesse.
Giovanni.
That's as it proves: they Poets faigne (I read)
That Juno for her forehead did exceed
All other goddesses: but I durst swear,
Your forehead exceeds hers, as hers did theirs.
Annabella.
Troth this is pretty.
Giovanni.
Such a pair of stars
As are thine eyes, would (like Promethean fire.)
(If gently glaun'st) give life to senseless stones.
Annabella.
Fie upon'ee,
Giovanni.
The Lilly and the Rose most sweetly strainge,
Upon your dimpled Cheeks do strive for change.
Such lippes would tempt a Saint; such hands as those
Would make an Anchoret Lascivious.
Annabella.
D'ee mock me, or flatter me,
Giovanni.
If you would see a beauty more exact
Then Art can counter fit, or nature frame,
Looke in your glasse, and there behold your owne.
Annabella.
[300] O you are a trime youth.
Giovanni.
Here.
Offers his Dagger to her.
Annabella.
What to do.
Giovanni.
And here's my breast, strikeVasquez home.
Rip up my bosome, there thou shalt behold
A heart, in which is writ the truth I speak.
Why stand'ee?
Annabella.
Are you earnest?
Giovanni.
Yes most earnest.
You cannot love?
Annabella.
Whom?
Giovanni.
Me, my tortur'd soul
Hath felt affliction in the heate of Death.
O Annabella I am quite undone,
The love of thee (my sister) and the view
Of thy immortall beauty hath untun'd
All harmony both of my rest and life,
Why d'ee not strike?
Annabella.
Forbid it my just fears,
If this be true, 'twere fitter I were dead.
Giovanni.
True Annabella; 'tis no time to jest,
I have too long supprest the hidden flames
That almost have consum'd me; I have spent
Many a silent night in sighes and groans,
Ran over all my thoughts, despis'd my Fate,
[325] Reason'd against the reasons of my love,
Done all that smooth'd-cheek Vertue could advise,
But found all bootelesse; 'tis my destiny,
That you must eyther love, or I must dye.
Annabella.
Comes this in sadness from you?
Giovanni
Let some mischief
Befall me soon, if I dissemble ought.
Annabella.
You are my brother Giovanni.
Giovanni.
You,
My Sister Annabella; I know this:
And could afford you instance why to love
So much the more for this; to which intent
Wise Nature first in your Creationment
To make you mine: else 't had been sin and foul,
To share one beauty to a double soul.
Nearness in birth or blood, doth but perswade
A nearer nearness in affection.
I have askt Counsell of the holy Church,
Who tells me I may love you, and 'tis just,
That since I may, I should; and will, ye will:
Must I now live, or dye?
Annabella.
Live, thou hast won
The field, and never fought; what thou hast urg'd,
My captive heart had long ago resolv'd.
I blush to tell thee, (but I'll tell thee now)
[350] For every sigh that thou hast spent for me,
I have sigh'd ten; for every tear shed twenty:
And not so much for that I loved, as that
I durst not say I loved; uor scarcely think it.
Giovanni.
Let not this Musick be a dreame (ye gods)
For pittie's-sake I begge 'ee.
Annabella.
On my knees,
She kneeles.
Brother, even by our Mothers dust, I charge you,
Do not betray me to your mirth or hate,
Love me, or kill me Brother.
Giovanni.
On my knees,
He kneeles.
Sister, even by my Mothers dust I charge you,
Do not betray me to your mirth or hate,
Love me, or kill me Sister.
Annabella.
You mean good sooth then?
Giovanni.
In good troth I do,
And so do you I hope: say, I'm in earnest:
Annabella.
I'll swear't and I.
Giovanni.
And I, and by this kiss,
Kisses her.
(Once more, yet once more, now let's rise, by this)
I would not change this minute for Elyzium,
What must we now do?
Annabella.
What you will.
Giovanni.
Come then,
After so many tears as we have wept,
[375] Let's learn to court in smiles. to kiss and sleepe.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio and Donado.
Florio.
Signior Donado, you have said enough,
I understand you, but would have you know,
I will not force my Daughter 'gainst her will.
You see I have but two, a Son and Her;
And he is so deuoted to his Booke,
As I must tell you true, I doubt his health:
Should he miscarry, all my hopes rely
Upon my Girle; as for worldly Fortune,
I am I thank my Stars, blest with enough:
My Care is how to match her to her liking,
I would not have her marry Wealth, but Love,
And if she like your Nephew, let him have her,
Here's all that I can say.
Donado.
Sir you say well,
Like a true father, and for my part, I
If the young folkes can like, (twixt you and me)
Will promise to assure my Nephew presently,
Three thousand Florrens yearly during life,
And after I am dead, my whole estate.
Florio.
'Tis a fair proffer sir, mean time your Nephew
Shall have free passage to commence his suite;
If he can thrive, he shall have my consent,
So for this time I'll leave you Signior.
Exit.
Donado.
Well,
[400] Here's hope yet, if my Nephew would have wit,
But he is such another Dunce, I fear
He'll never win the Wench; when I was young
I could have done't yfaith, and so shall he
If he will learn of me; and in good time
He comes himself.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Poggio.
How now Bergetto, whether away so fast?
Bergetto.
Oh Unkle, I have heard the strangest newes that ever came out of the Mynt, have I not Poggio?
Poggio.
Yes indeed Sir.
Donado.
What newes Bergetto?
Bergetto.
Why looke ye Unkle? my Barber told me just now that there is a fellow come to Towne, who undertakes to make a Mill go without the mortall help of any water or winde, onely with Sand-bags: and this fellow hath a strange
Horse, a most excellent beast, I'll assure you Unkle, (my Barber says) whose head to the wonder of all
Christian people, stands just behind where his tail is, is't not true Poggio?
Poggio.
So the Barber swore forsooth.
Donado.
And you are running hither?
Bergetto.
Ay, forsooth Unkle.
Donado.
Wilt thou be a Foole stil? come sir, you shall not go, you have more mind of a Puppet-play, then on the business I told y'ee: why, thou great baby, wou't never have wit, wou't make thyself a May-game to all the world?
Poggio.
[425] Answere for yourself Maister.
Bergetto.
Why Unkle, should I sit at home still, and not go abroad to see fashions like other gallants?
Donado.
To see hobby-horses: what wise talke I pray had you with Annabella, when you were at Signior Florio's house?
Bergetto.
Oh the wench: 'ud's sa'me, Unkle; I tickled her with a rare speech, that I made her almost burst her belly with laughing.
Donado.
Nay I think so, and what speech was't?
Bergetto.
What did I say Poggio?
Poggio.
Forsooth my Maister said, that he loved her almost aswell as he loved Parmasent, and swore (I'll be sworn for him) that she wanted but such a Nose as his was, to be as pretty a young woeman, as any was in
Parma.
Donado.
Oh grose!
Bergetto.
Nay Unkle, then she asked me, whether my Father had any more children then myself: and I said no, 'twere better he should have had his braynes knockt out first.
Donado.
This is intolerable.
Bergetto.
Then said she, will Signior Donado your Unkle leave you all his wealth?
Donado.
Ha! that was good, did she harpe upon that string?
Bergetto.
Did she harpe upon that string, I that she did: I answered, leave me all his wealth? why woeman, he hath no other wit, if he had, he should hear on't to his everlasting glory and confusion: I know (quoth I) I am his white boy, and will not [450] reguld; and with that she fell into a great smile, and went away. Nay I did fit her.
Donado.
Ah sirrah, then I see there is no changing of nature,
Well Bergetto, I fear thou wilt be a very Asse still.
Bergetto.
I should be sorry for the Unkle.
Donado.
Come, come you home with me, since you are no better a speaker, I'll have you write to her after some courtly manner, and inclose some rich jewell in the Letter.
Bergetto.
I marry, that will be excellent.
Donado.
Peace innocent,
Once in my time I'll set my wits to schoole,
If all fail, 'tis but the fortune of a foole.
Bergetto.
Poggio, 'twill do Poggio.
Exeunt.
Actus Secundus.
Enter Giovanni and Annabella, as from their Chamber.
Giovanni.
Come Annabella, no more Sister now,
But Love; a name more Gracious, do not blush,
(Beauties sweet wonder) but be proud, to know
That yielding thou hast conquer'd, and inflam'd
A heart whose tribute is thy brothers life.
Annabella.
And mine is his, oh how these stolne contents
Would print a modest Crymson on my cheeks,
Had any but my hearts delight prevail'd.
Giovanni.
I marvail why the chaster of your sex
Should think this pretty toye call'd Maiden-head,
So strange a losse, when being lost, 'tis nothing,
And you are still the same.
Annabella.
'Tis well for you,
Now you can talke.
Giovanni.
Musick aswell consists
In th'ear, as in the playing.
Annabella.
Oh y'are wanton,
Tell on't, y'are best, do.
Giovanni.
Thou wilt chide me then,
Kiss me, so; thus hung Jove on Læda's neck,
And sucked divine Ambrosia from her lips:
I enuy not the mightiest man alive,
But hold myself in being King of thee,
More great, then were I King of all the world:
[25] But I shall lose you Sweet-heart.
Annabella.
But you shall not.
Giovanni.
You must be married Mistres.
Annabella.
Yes, to whom?
Giovanni.
Some one must have you.
Annabella.
You must.
Giovanni.
Nay some other.
Annabella.
Now prithee do not speak so, without jesting
You'll make me weep in earnest.
Giovanni.
What you will not.
But tell me sweet, can'st thou be dar'd to swear
That thou wilt live to me, and to no other?
Annabella.
By both our loves I dare, for didst thou know
My Giovanni, how all suiters seem
To my eyes hatefull, thou wouldst crust me then.
Giovanni.
Enough, I take thy word; Sweet we must part,
Remember what thou vow'st, keep well my heart.
Annabella.
Will you begon?
Giovanni.
I must.
Annabella.
When to return?
Giovanni.
Soon.
Annabella.
Looke you do.
Giovanni.
Farewell.
Exit.
Annabella.
Go where thou wilt, in mind I'll keep thee here,
And where thou art, I know I shall be there
[50] Guardian.
Enter Putana.
Putana.
Child, how is't child? well, thank Heaven, ha!
Annabella.
O Guardian, what a Paradise of joy
Have I past over!
Putana.
Nay what a Paradise of joy have you past under? why now I commend thee (Chardge) fear nothing,
(sweetheart) what though he be your Brother; your Brother's a man I hope, and I say still, if a young Wench feele the fitt upon her, let her take any body, Father or Brother, all is one.
Annabella.
I would not have it known for all the world.
Putana.
Nor I indeed, for the speech of the people; else 'twere nothing.
Florio (within)
Daughter Annabella.
Annabella.
O me! my Father,---here Sir,---reach my worke.
Florio (within):
What are you doing?
Annabella.
So, let him come now,
Enter Florio, Richardetto, like a Doctor of Phisick, and Philotis with a Lute in her hand.
Florio.
So hard at worke, that's well; you lose no time, looke, I have brought you company, here's one, a learned Doctor, lately come from Padua, much skild in Physick, and for that I see you have of late been sickly, I entreated this reverent man to visit you some time.
Annabella.
Y'are very welcome Sir.
Richardetto.
I thank you Mistresse,
Loud Fame in large report hath spoke your praise,
Aswell for Vertue as perfection:
For which I have been bold to bring with me
[75] A Kins-woeman of mine, a maide, for song,
And musick, one perhaps will give content,
Please you to know her.
Annabella.
They are parts I love,
And she for them most welcome.
Philotis.
Thank you Lady.
Florio.
Sirnow you know my house, pray make not strange,
And if you find my Daughter need your Art,
I'll be your pay-master.
Richardetto.
Sir, what I am she shall command.
Florio.
You shall bind me to you,
Daughter, I must have conference with you,
About some matters that concerns us both.
Good Maister Doctor, please you but walke in,
We'll crave a little of your Cozens cunning:
I think my Girle hath not quite forgot
To touch an Instrument, she could have done't,
We'll hear them both.
Richardetto.
I'll wait upon you sir.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo in his study reading a Booke.
Soranzo.
Loves measure is extreame, the comfort, pain:
The life unrest, and the reward disdain
What's here? look o're again, 'tis so, so writes
This smooth licentious Poet in his rymes.
But Sanazar thou lyest, for had thy bosome
Felt such oppression as is laid on mine,
[100] Thou wouldst have kist the rod that made the smart.
To worke then happy Muse, and contradict
What Sanazer hath in his enuy writ.
Loves measure is the meane, sweet his annoyes,
His pleasures life, and his reward all joyes.
Had Annabella lived when Sanazar
Did in his brief Euconium celebrate
Venice that Queen of Citties, he had left
That Verse which gaind him such a sume of Gold,
And for one onely looke from Annabell
Had writ of her, and her diviner cheeks,
O how my thoughts are---
Vasques (within):
Pray forbear, in rules of Civility, let me give notice on't: I shall be taxed of my neglect of duty and service.
Soranzo.
What rude intrusion interrupts my peace,
Can I be no where private?
Vasques (within):
Troth you wrong your modesty.
Soranzo.
What's the matter Vasques, who is't?
Enter Hippolita and Vasques.
Hippolita.
'Tis I:
Do you know me now? looke perjurd man on her
Whom thou and thy distracted lust have wrong'd,
Thy sensuall rage of blood hath made my youth
A scorn to men and Angels, and shall I
Be now a foyle to thy unsated change?
Thou knowst (false wanton) when my modest fame
[125] Stood free from stain, or scandall, all the charms
Of Hell or forcery could not prevail
Against the honour of my chaster bosome.
Thyne eyes did pleade in tears, thy tongue in oathes
Such and so many, that a heart of steele
Would have been wrought to pity, as was mine:
And shall the Conquest of my lawfull bed,
My husbands death urg'd on by his disgrace,
My losse of woeman-hood be ill rewarded
With hatred and contempt? No, know Soranzo,
I have a spirit doth as much distast
The slavery of fearing thee, as thou
Dost loath the memory of what hath past.
Soranzo.
Nay dear Hippolita.
Hippolita.
Call me not dear,
Nor think with supple words to smooth the groseness
Of my abuses; 'tis not your new Mistresse,
Your goodly Madam Merchant shall triumph
On my derection; tell her thus from me,
My birth was Nobler, and by much more Free.
Soranzo.
You are too violent.
Hippolita.
You are too double
In your dissimulation, see'st thou this,
This habit, these black mourning weeds of Care,
'Tis thou art cause of this, and hast divorced
[150] My husband from his life and me from him,
And made me Widdow in my widowhood.
Soranzo.
Will you yet hear?
Hippolita.
More of the perjuries?
Thy soul is drown'd too deepely in those sins,
Thou need'st not add to th number.
Soranzo.
Then I'll leave you,
You are past all rules of sence.
Hippolita.
And thou of grace.
Vasquez.
Fy Mistresse, you are not near the limits of reason, if my Lord had a resolution as noble as Vertue itself, you take the course to unedge it all. Sir I beseech you do not perplexe her, griefes (alas) will have a vent, I dare undertake Madam Hippolita will now freely hear you.
Soranzo.
Talke to a woman frantick, are these the fruits of your love?
Hippolita.
They are the fruites of thy untruth, false man,
Didst thou not swear, whil'st yet my husband lived,
That thou wouldst wish no happiness on earth
More then to call me wife? didst thou not vow
When he should dye to marry me? for which
The Devill in my blood, and thy protests
Caus'd me to Counsail him to undertake
A voyage to Ligorn, for that we heard,
His Brother there was dead, and left a Daughter
Young and unfriended, who with much ado
[175] I wished him to bring hither; he did so,
And went; and as thou know'st dyed on the way.
Unhappy man to buy his death so dear
With my advice; yet thou for whom I did it,
Forget'st thy vowes, and leav'st me to my shame.
Soranzo.
Who could help this?
Hippolita.
Who? perjur'd man thou couldst,
If thou hadst faith or love.
Soranzo.
You are deceived,
The vowes I made, (if you remember well)
Were wicked and unlawfull, 'twere more sin
To keep them, then to break them; as for me
I cannot maske my penitence, think thou
How much thou hast digrest from honest shame,
In bringing of a gentleman to death
Who was thy husband, such a one as he?
So noble in his quality, condition,
Learning, behaviour, entertainment, love,
As Parma could not show a braver man.
Vasquez
You do not well, this was not your promise.
Soranzo.
I care not, let her know her monstrous life,
Ere I'll be servile to so black a sin,
I'll be a Curse; woeman, come here no more,
Learn to repent and dye; for by my honour
I hate thee and thy lust; you have been too foul.
Vasquez.
[200] This part has been scurvily played.
Hippolita.
How foolishly this beast contemnes his Fate,
And shuns the use of that, which I more scorn
Then I once loved his love; but let him go,
My vengeance shall give comfort to his woe.
She offers to go away.
Vasquez.
Mistresse, Mistress Madam Hippolita,
Pray a word or two.
Hippolita.
With me Sir?
Vasquez.
With you if you please.
Hippolita.
What is't?
Vasquez.
I know you are infinitely mov'd now, and you think you have cause, some I confess you have, but sure not so much as you imagine.
Hippolita.
Indeed.
Vasquez.
O you were miserably bitter, which you followed even to the last sillable: Faith you were somewhat too shrewd, by my life you could not have tooke my Lord in a worse time, since I first knew him: to morrow you shall find him a new man.
Hippolita.
Well, I shall wait his leasure.
Vasquez.
Fie, this is not a hearty patience, it comes sowerly from you, troth let me perswade you for once.
Hippolita.
I have it and it shall be so; thanks opportunity ---perswade me to what?---
Vasquez.
Visitt him in some milder temper, O if you could but [225] master a little your femall spleen, how might you win him!
Hippolita.
He wil never love me: Vasques, thou hast bin a too trusty servant to such a master, & I believe thy reward in the end will fal out like mine.
Vasquez.
So perhaps too.
Hippolita.
Resolve thyself it will; had I one so true, so truely honest, so secret to my Counsels, as thou hast been to him and his, I should think it a flight acquittance, not onely to make him Maister of all I have, but even of myself.
Vasquez.
O you are a noble Gentlewoman.
Hippolita.
Wou't thou feed always upon hopes? well, I know thou art wise, and see'st the reward of an old servant dally what it is.
Vasquez.
Beggery and neglect.
Hippolita.
True, but Vasques, wer't thou mine, and wouldst be private to me and my designes; I here protest myself, and all what I can else call myne, should be at thy dispose.
Vasquez.
Worke you that way old mole? then I have the wind of you---I were not worthy of it, by any desert that could lye---within my compasse; if I could---
Hippolita.
What then?
Vasquez.
I should then hope to live in these my old years with rest and security.
Hippolita.
Give me thy hand, now promise but thy silence,
And help to bring to passe a plot I have;
[250] And here in sight of Heaven, (that being done)
I make thee Lord of me and mine estate.
Vasquez.
Come you are merry,
This is such a happiness that I can
Neither think or believe.
Hippolita.
Promise thy secrecy, and 'tis confirm'd.
Vasquez.
Then here I call our good Genii foe-witnesses, whatsoever your designes are, or against whomsoever, I will not onely be a speciall actor therein, but never disclose it till it be effected.
Hippolita.
I take thy word, and with that, thee for mine:
Come then, let's more confer of this anon.
On this delicious bane my thoughts shall banquet,
Revenge shall sweeten what my griefes have tasted.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richardetto.
Thou see'st (my lovely Neece) these strange mishaps,
How all my fortunes turn to my disgrace,
Wherein I am but as a looker on,
Whiles others act my shame, and I am silent.
Philotis.
But Unkle, wherein can this borrowed shape
Give you content?
Richardetto.
I'll tell thee gentle Neece,
Thy wanton Aunt in her lascivious riotts
Lives now secure, thinks I am surely dead
In my late Journey to Lïgorn for you;
(As I have caus'd it to be rumord out)
Now would I see with what an impudence
[275] She gives scope to her loose adultery,
And how the Common voice allowes hereof:
Thus far I have prevail'd.
Philotis.
Alas, I fear
You mean some strange revenge.
Richardetto.
O be not troubled,
Your ignorance shall pleade for you in all,
But to our businesse, what, you learnt for certain
How Signior Florio meanes to give his Daughter
In marriage to Soranzo?
Philotis.
Yes for certain.
Richardetto.
But how find you young Annabella's love,
Inclind to him?
Philotis.
For ought I could perceive,
She neyther fancies him or any else.
Richardetto.
There's Mystery in that which time must show,
She us'd you kindly.
Philotis.
Yes.
Richardetto.
And crav'd your company?
Philotis.
Often.
Richardetto.
'Tis well, it goes as I could wish,
I am the Doctor now, and as for you,
None knowes you; if all fail not we shall thrive.
But who comes here?
Enter Grimaldi.
I know him, 'tis Grimaldi,
[300] A Roman and a souldier, near allyed
Unto the Duke of Montferrano, one
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
That now resides in Parma, by which meanes
He hopes to get the love of Annabella,
Grimaldi.
Save you Sir.
Richardetto.
And you Sir.
Grimaldi.
I have heard
Of your approv'd skill, which through the City
Is freely talkt of, and would crave your aid.
Richardetto.
For what Sir?
Grimaldi.
Marry sir for this---
But I would speak in Private.
Richardetto.
Leave us Cozen.
Exit Phi.
Grimaldi.
I love fair Annabella, and would know
Whether in Arts there may not be receipts
To move affection.
Richardetto.
Sir perhaps there may,
But these will nothing profit you.
Grimaldi.
Not me?
Richardetto.
Unless I be mistooke, you are a man
Greatly in fauour with the Cardinall.
Grimaldi.
What of that?
Richardetto.
In duty to his Grace,
I will be bold to tell you, if you seek
[325] To marry Florio's daughter, you must first
Remove a bar twixt you and her.
Grimaldi.
Whose that?
Richardetto.
Soranzo is the man that hath her heart,
And while he lives, be sure you cannot speed.
Grimaldi.
Soranzo, what mine Enemy, is't he?
Richardetto.
Is he your Enemy?
Grimaldi.
The man I hate,
Worse then Confusion;
I'll tell him streight.
Richardetto.
Nay, then take mine advice,
(Even for his Graces sake the Cardinall)
I'll find a time when he and she do meet,
Of which I'll give you notice, and to be sure
He shall not scape you, I'll provide a poison
To dip your Rapiers point in, if he had
As many heads as Hidra had, he dyes.
Grimaldi.
But shall I trust thee Doctor?
Richardetto.
As yourself,
Doubt not in ought; thus shall the Fates decree,
By me Soranzo falls, that min'd me.
Exeunt.
Enter Donado, Bergetto and Poggio.
Donado.
Well Sir, I must be content to be both your Secretary and your Messenger myself; I cannot tell what this Letter may worke, but as sure as I am alive, if thou come once to talke with her, I fear thou wou't mar whatsoever I make.
Bergetto.
[350] You make Unkle? why am not I bigge enough to carry mine own Letter I pray?
Donado.
I, I carry a fooles head o'thy owne; why thou Dunce, wouldst thou write a letter, and carry it thyself?
Bergetto.
Yes that I wouldd, and reade it to her with my own mouth, for you must think, if she will not believe me myself when she hears me speak; she will not believe anothers handwriting. O you think I am a block-head Unkle, no sir, Poggio knowes I have indited a letter myself, so I have.
Poggio.
Yes truely sir, I have it in my pocket.
Donado.
A sweet one no doubt, pray let's see't.
Bergetto.
I cannot reade my own hand very well Poggio,
Reade it Poggio.
Donado.
Begin.
Poggio reades.
Poggio.
Most dainty and honey-sweet Mistresse, I could call you fair, and lie as fast as any that loves you, but my
Unkle being the elder man, I leave it to him, as more fit for his age, and the color of his beard; I am wise enough to tell you I can board where I see occasion, or if you like my Unkles wit better then mine, you shall marry me; if you like mine better then his, I will marry you in spight of your teeth; So commending my best parts to you, I rest.
Yours upwards and downewards, or you may chose, Bergetto.
Bergetto.
Ah ha, here's stuffe Unkle.
Donado.
Here's stuffe indeed to shame us all,
Pray whose advice did you take in this learned Letter?
Poggio.
[375] None upon on my word, but mine owne.
Bergetto.
And mine Unkle, believe it, no bodies else; 'twas mine own brayne, I thank a good wit for't.
Donado.
Get you home sir, and looke you keep within doores till I return.
Bergetto.
How? that were a jest indeed; I scorn it yfaith.
Donado.
What you do not?
Bergetto.
Judge me, but I do now.
Poggio.
Indeed sir 'tis very unhealthy.
Donado.
Well sir, if I hear any of your apish running to motions, and fopperies till I come back, you were as good no; looke too't.
Exit Do.
Bergetto.
Poggio, shall's steale to see this Horse with the head in's tail?
Poggio.
I but you must take he?e of whipping.
Bergetto.
Dost take me for a Child Poggio,
Come honest Poggio.
Exeunt.
Enter Friar and Giovanni.
Friar.
Peace, thou hast told a tale, whose every word
Threatens eternall slaughter to the soul:
I'me sorry I have heard it; would mine ears
Had been one minute deafe, before the houre
That thou cam'st to me: O young man cast-away,
By the relligious number of mine order,
I day and night have waked my aged eyes,
Above thy strength, to weep on thy behalfe:
But Heaven is angry, and be thou resolv'd,
[400] Thou art a man remarked to tast a mischiefe,
Looke for't; though it come late, it will come sure.
Giovanni.
Father, in this you are uncharitable;
What I have done, I'll prove both fit and good.
It is a principall (which you have taught
When I was yet your Scholler) that the Fame
And Composition of the Mind doth follow
The Frame and Composition of Body:
So where the Bodies furniture is Beauty,
The Mindes must needs be Vertue: which allowed,
Vertue itself is Reason but refin'd,
And Love the Quintesence of that, this proves
My Sisters Beauty being rarely Fair,
Is rarely Uertuous; chiefely in her love,
And chiefely in that Love, her love to me.
If hers to me, then so is mine to her;
Since in like Causes are effects alike.
Friar.
O ignorance in knowledge, long ago,
How often have I warn'd thee this before?
Indeed if we were sure there were no Deity,
Nor Heaven nor Hell, then to be lead alone,
By Natures light (as were Philosophers
Of elder times) might instance some defence.
But 'tis not so; then Madman, thou wilt finde,
That Nature is in Heavens positions blind.
Giovanni.
[425] Your age o're rules you, had you youth like mine,
You'd make her love your heaven, and her divine.
Friar.
Nay then I see th'art too far sold to hell,
It lies not in the Compasse of my prayers
To call thee back; yet let me Counsell thee:
Perswade thy sister to some marriage.
Giovanni.
Marriage? why that's to dambe her; that's to prove
Her greedy of variety of lust.
Friar.
O fearfull! if thou wilt not give me leave
To shrive her; lest she should dye un-absolv'd.
Giovanni.
At your best leasure Father, then she'll tell you,
How dearly she doth prize my Matchless love,
Then you will know what pity 'twere we two
Should have been sundred from each others arms.
View well her face, and in that little round,
You may obserue a world of variety;
For Color, lips, for sweet perfumes, her breath;
For jewels, eyes; for threds of purest gold,
Hair; for delicious choice of Flowers, cheeks;
Wonder in every portion of that Throne:
Hear her but speak, and you will swear the Sphæres
Make Musick to the Cittizens in Heaven:
But Father, what is else for pleasure fram'd,
Least I offend your ears shall go un-nam'd.
Friar.
The more I hear, I pity thee the more,
[450] That one so excellent should give those parts
All to a second Death; what I can do
Is but to pray; and yet I could advise thee,
Wouldst thou be rul'd.
Giovanni.
In what?
Friar.
Why leave her yet,
The Throne of Mercy is above your trespasse,
Yet time is left you both---
Giovanni.
To embrace each other,
Else let all time be struck quite out of number;
She is like me, and I like her resolv'd.
Friar.
No more, I'll visit her; this grieves me most,
Things being thus, a pair of souls are lost.
Exeut.
Enter Florio, Donado, Annabella, Putana.
Florio.
Where's Giovanni?
Annabella.
Newly walked abroad,
And (as I heard him say) gon to the Friar
His reverent Tutor.
Florio.
That's a blessed man,
A man made up of holinesse, I hope
He'll teach him how to gain another world.
Donado.
Fair Gentlewoman, here's a letter sent
To you from my young Cozen, I dare swear
He loves you in his soul, would you could hear
Sometimes, what I see daily, sighes and tears,
As if his breast were prison to his heart.
Florio.
[475] Receive it Annabella.
Annabella.
Alas good man.
Donado.
What's that she said?
Putana.
And please you sir, she said, alas good man, truely I do Commend him to her every night before her first sleepe, because I would have her dreame of him, and she harkens to that most relligiously.
Donado.
Say'st so, godamercy Putana there's something for thee, and prythee do what thou canst on his behalfe; sha'not be lost labour, take my word for't.
Pu.
Thank you most heartily sir, now I have a Feeling of your mind, let me alone to worke.
Annabella.
Guardian!
Pu.
Did you call?
Annabella.
Keep this letter,
Donado.
Signior Florio, in any case bid her reade it instantly.
Florio.
Keep it for what? pray reade it me here right.
Annabella.
I shall sir,
She reades.
Donado.
How d'ee find her inclin'd Signior?
Florio.
Troth sir I know not how; not all so well
As I could wish.
Annabella.
Sir I am bound to rest your Cozens debter,
The jewell I'll return, for if he love,
I'll count that love a jewell.
Donado.
Marke you that?
[500] Nay keep them both sweet Maide.
Annabella.
You must excuse me,
Indeed I will not keep it.
Florio.
Where's the Ring,
That which your Mother in her will bequeath'd,
And charg'd you on her blessing not to give't
To any but your Husband? send back that.
Annabella.
I have it not,
Florio.
Ha I have it not, where is't?
Annabella.
My brother in the morning tooke it fró me,
Said he would wear't to Day.
Florio.
Well, what do you say
To young Bergetto's love? are you content
To match with him? speak.
Donado.
There's the point indeed.
Annabella.
What shal I do, I must say something now.
Florio.
What say, why d'ee not speak?
Annabella.
Sir with your leave
Please you to give me freedome.
Florio.
Yes you have.
Annabella.
Signior Donado, if your Nephew mean
To rayse his better Fortunes in his match,
The hope of me will hinder such a hope;
Sir if you love him, as I know you do;
Find one more worthy of his choice then me,
[525] In short, I'me sure, I sha'not be his wife.
Donado.
Why here's plain dealing, I commend thee for't,
And all the worst I wish thee, is heaven bless thee,
Your Father yet and I will still be friends,
Shall we not Signior Florio?
Florio.
Yes, why not?
Looke here your Cozen comes.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Donado.
Oh Coxcombe, what doth he make here?
Bergetto.
Where's my Unkle sirs.
Donado.
What's the newes now?
Bergetto.
Save you Unkle, save you, you must not think I come for nothing Maisters, and how and how is't? what you have read my letter, ah, there I---tickled you yfaith.
Poggio.
But 'twere better you had tickled her in another place.
Bergetto.
Sirrah Sweet-heart, I'll tell thee good jest, and riddle what 'tis.
Annabella.
You say you'd tell me.
Bergetto.
As I was walking just now in the Street, I mett a swaggering fellow would needs take the wall of me, and because he did thrust me, I very valiantly cal'd him Rogue, he hereupon bad me drawe, I told him I had more wit then so, but when he saw that I would not, he did so maul me with the hilts of his Rapier, that my head sung whil'st my feet caper'd in the kennell.
Donado.
Was ever the like asse seene?
Annabella.
[550] And what did you all this while?
Bergetto.
Laugh at him for a gull, till I see the blood run about mine ears, and then I could not choose but find in my heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beard, (they say he is a new-come Doctor) cald me into this house, and gave me a playster, looke you here 'tis; and sir there was a young wench washt my face and hands most excellently, yfaith I shall love her as long as I live for't, did she not Poggio?
Poggio.
Yes and kist him too.
Bergetto.
Why la now, you think I tell a lye Unkle I warrant.
Donado.
Would he that beate thy blood out of thy head, had beaten some wit into it; For I fear thou never wilt have any.
Bergetto.
Oh Unkle, but there was a wench, would have done a mans heart good to have lookt on her, by this light she had a face me-thinks worth twenty of you Mistress Annabella.
Do,
Was ever such a foole born?
Annabella.
I am glad she liked you sir.
Bergetto.
Are you so, by my troth I thank you forsooth.
Florio.
Sure 'twas the Doctors neece, that was last day with us here:
Bergetto.
'Twas she, 'twas she.
Donado.
How do you know that simplicity?
Bergetto.
Why doe's not he say so? if I should have said no, I should hauo given him the lye Unkle, and so have deserv'd a dry beating again; I'll none of that.
Florio.
[575] A very modest welbehav'd young Maide as I have seene.
Donado.
Is she indeed?
Florio.
Indeed
She is, if I have any judgement.
Donado.
Well sir, now you are free, you need not care for sending letters, now you are dismist, your Mistress here will none of you.
Bergetto.
No; why what care I for that, I can have Wenches enough in Parma for halfe a Crown a piece , cannot I
Poggio?
Poggio.
I'll warrant you sir.
Donado.
Signior Florio, I thank you for your free recourse you gave for my admittance; and to you fair Maide that jewell
I will give you 'gainst your marriage, come will you go sir?
Bergetto.
I marry will I Mistres, farwell Mistres, I'll come again to morrow---farwell Mistres.
Exit Do. Ber. & Pog.
Enter Giovanni.
Florio.
Son, where have you beene? what alone, alone, still, still? I would not have it so, you must forsake this ever bookish humour. Well, your Sister hath shooke the Foole off.
Giovanni.
'Twas no match for her.
Florio.
'Twas not indeed I ment it nothing lesse,
Soranzo is the man I onely like;
Looke on him Annabella, come, 'tis supper-time,
And it growes late.
Exit Florio.
Giovanni.
Whose jewell's that?
Annabella.
Some Sweet-hearts.
Giovanni.
[600] So I think.
Annabella.
A lusty youth, Signior Donado gave it me
To wear against my Marriage.
Giovanni.
But you shall not wear it, send it him back again.
Annabella.
What, you are jealous?
Giovanni.
That you shall know anon, at better leasure:
Welcome sweet night, the Evening crownes the Day.
Exeunt.
Actus Tertius.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio.
Bergetto.
Do'es my Unkle think to make me a Baby still? no, Poggio, he shall know, I have a skonce now.
Poggio.
I let him not bobbe you off like an Ape with an apple.
Bergetto.
Sfoot, I will have the wench, if he were ten Unkles, in despight of his nose Poggio.
Poggio.
Hold him to the Grynd-stone, and give not a jot of ground,
She hath in a manner promised you already.
Poggio.
True Poggio, and her Unkle the Doctor
Swore I should marry her.
Poggio.
He swore I remember.
Bergetto.
And I will have her that's more; did'st see the codpeice-point she gave me, and the box of Mermalade?
Poggio.
Very well, and kist you, that my chopps watred at the sight on't; there's no way but to clap up a marriage in hugger mugger.
Bergetto.
I will do't for I tell thee Poggio, I begin to grow valiant methinks, and my courage begins to rise.
Poggio.
Should you be afraid of your Unkle?
Bergetto.
Hang him old doating Rascall, no, I say I will have her.
Poggio.
Lose no time then.
Bergetto.
I will beget a race of Wise men and Constables, that shall cart whoores at their own charges, and break the
Dukes peace ere I have done myself.---come away.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio, Giovanni, Soranzo, Annabella, Putana and Vasques.
Florio.
My Lord Soranzo, though I must confesse,
[25] The proffers that are made me, have been great
In marriage of my daughter; yet the hope
Of your still rising honours, have prevaild
Above all other Joinctures; here she is,
She knowes my minde, speak for yourself to her,
And hear you daughter, see you use him nobly,
For any private speech, I'll give you time:
Come son and you, the rest let them alone,
Agree as they may.
Soranzo.
I thank you sir.
Giovanni.
Sister be not all woeman, think on me.
Soranzo.
Vasques?
Vasquez.
My Lord.
Soranzo.
Attend me without---
Exeunt omnes, manet Soranzo. & Anna.
Annabella.
Sir what's your will with me?
Soranzo.
Do you not know what I should tell you?
Annabella.
Yes, you'll say you love me.
Soranzo.
And I'll swear it too; will you believe it?
Annabella.
'Tis not point of faith.
Enter Giovanni above.
Soranzo.
Have you not will to love?
Annabella.
Not you.
Soranzo.
Whom then?
Annabella.
That's as the Fates infer.
Giovanni.
Of those I'me regient now.
Soranzo.
What mean you sweet?
Annabella.
[50] To live and dye a Maide.
Soranzo.
Oh that's unfit.
Giovanni.
Here's one can say that's but a womans noate.
Soranzo.
Did you but see my heart, then would you swear---
Annabella.
That you were dead.
Giovanni.
That's true, or somewhat near it.
Soranzo.
See you these true loves tears?
Annabella.
No.
Giovanni.
Now she winks.
Soranzo.
They plead to you for grace.
Annabella.
Yet nothing speak.
Soranzo.
Oh grant my suite.
Annabella.
What is't
Soranzo.
To let me live.
Annabella.
Take it---
Soranzo.
Still yours.---
Annabella.
That is not mine to give.
Giovanni.
One such another word would kil his hopes.
Soranzo.
Mistres, to leave those fruitless strifes of wit,
I know I have loved you long, and loved you truely;
Not hope of what you have, but what you are
Have drawne me on, then let me not in vain
Still feele the rigour of your chast disdain.
I'me sick, and sick to th'heart.
Annabella.
Helpe, Aqua vitæ.
Soranzo.
[75] What mean you?
Annabella.
Why I thought you had been sick.
Soranzo.
Do you mock my love?
Giovanni.
There sir she was too nimble.
Soranzo.
'Tis plain; she laughes at me, these scornfull taunts neither become your modesty, or years.
Annabella.
You are no looking-glasse, or if you were, I'de dress my language by you.
Giovanni.
I'me confirm'd---
Annabella.
To put you out of doubt, my Lord, me-thinks your Common sence should make you understand, that if I loved you, or desir'd your love, some way I should have given you better tast: but since you are a Noble man, and one I wouldnot wish should spend his youth in hopes, let me advise you here, to forbear your suite, and think I wish you well, I tell you this.
Soranzo.
Is't you speak this?
Annabella.
Yes, I myself; yet know
Thus far I give you comfort, if mine eyes
Could have pickt out a man (amongst all those
That sue'd to me) to make a husband of,
You should have been that man; let this suffice,
Be noble in your secrecy and wise.
Giovanni.
Why now I see she loves me.
Annabella.
One word more:
As ever Vertue lived within your mind,
[100] As ever noble courses were your guide,
As ever you would have me know you loved me,
Let not my Father know hereof by you:
If I hereafter find that I must marry,
It shall be you or none.
Soranzo.
I take that promise.
Annabella.
Oh, oh my head.
Soranzo.
What's the matter, not well?
Annabella.
Oh I begin to sicken.
Giovanni.
Heaven forbid.
Exit from above.
Soranzo.
Helpe, helpe, within there ho.
Giovanni.
Looke to your daughter Signior Florio.
Enter Florio, Giovanni, Putana.
Florio.
Hold her up, she sounes.
Giovanni.
Sister how d'ee?
Annabella.
Sick, brother, are you there?
Florio.
Convay her to her bed instantly, whil'st I send for a Phisitian, quickly I say.
Putana.
Alas poore Child.
Exeunt, manet Soranzo.
Enter Vasques.
Vasquez.
My Lord.
Soranzo.
Oh Vasques, now I doubly am undone,
Both in my present and my future hopes:
She plainly told me, that she could not love,
And thereupon soon sickned, and I fear
Her life's in danger.
Vasquez.
Byr lady Sir, and so is yours, if you knew all.---'las sir, [125] I am sorry for that, may be 'tis but the Maides sicknesse, an over-fluxe of youth and then sir, there is no such present remedy, as present Marriage. But hath she given you an absolute deniall?
Soranzo.
She hath and she hath not; I'm full of griefe,
But what she said, I'll tell thee as we go.
Exeunt.
Enter Giovanni and Putana.
Putana.
Oh sir, we are all undone, quite undone, utterly undone,
And sham'd forever; your sister, oh your sister.
Giovanni.
What of her? for Heavens sake speak, how do'es she?
Putana.
Oh that ever I was born to see this day.
Giovanni.
She is not dead, ha, is she?
Putana.
Dead? no, she is quick, 'tis worse, she is with childe,
You know what you have done; Heaven forgive 'ee,
'Tis too late to repent, now Heaven help us.
Giovanni.
With child? how dost thou know't?
Putana.
How do I know't? am I at these years ignorant, what the meaning's of Quames, and Waterpangs be? of changing of Colors, Queziness of stomacks, Pukings, and another thing that I could name; do not (for her and your Credits sake) spend the time in asking how, and which way, 'tis so; she is quick upon my word, if you let a Phisitian see her water y'are undone.
Giovanni.
But in what case is she?
Putana.
Prettily amended, 'twas but a fit which I soon espi'd, and she must looke for often hence-forward.
Giovanni.
[150] Commend me to her, bid her take no care,
Let not the Doctor visit her I charge you,
Make some excuse, till I return; oh me,
I have a world of business in my head,
Do not discomfort her; how do this newes perplex me!
If my Father come to her, tell him she's recover'd well,
Say 'twas but some ill dyet; d'ee hear Woeman,
Looke you to't.
Putana.
I will sir.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio and Richardetto
Florio.
And how d'ee find her sir:
Richardetto.
Indifferent well,
I see no danger, scarse perceive she's sick,
But that she told me, she had lately eaten
Mellowness, and as she thought, those disagreed
With her young stomack.
Florio.
Did you give her ought?
Richardetto.
An easy furfeit water, nothing else,
You need not doubt her health; I rather think
Her sickness is a fulness of her blood,
You understand me?
Florio.
I do; you counsell well,
And once within these few days, will so order't
She shall be married, ere she know the time.
Richardetto.
Yet let not hast (sir) make unworthy choice,
That were dishonour.
Florio.
[175] Maister Doctor no,
I will not do so neither, in plain words
My Lord Soranzo is the man I meane.
Richardetto.
A noble and a vertuous Gentleman.
Florio.
As any is in Parma; not far hence,
Dwels Father Bonaventure, a grave Friar,
Once Tutor to my Son; now at his Cell
I'll have 'em married.
Richardetto.
You have plotted wisely.
Florio.
I'll send one straight
To speak with him to night.
Richardetto.
Soranzo's wise, he will delay no time.
Florio.
It shall be so.
Enter Friar and Giovanni.
Friar.
Good peace be here and love.
Florio.
Welcome relligious Friar, you are one,
That still bring blessing to the place you come to.
Giovanni.
Sir, with what speed I could, I did my best,
To draw this holy man from forth his Cell,
To visit my sick sister, that with words
Of ghostly comfort in this time of need,
He might absolve her, whether she live or dye.
Florio.
'Twas well done Giovanni, thou herein
Hast showed a Christians care, a Brothers love
Come Father, I'll conduct you to her chamber,
And one thing would intreat you.
Friar.
[200] Say on sir.
Florio.
I have a Fathers dear impression,
And wish before I fall into my grave,
That I might see her married, as 'tis fit;
A word from you Grave man, will win her more,
Then all our best perswasions.
Friar.
Gentle Sir,
All this I'll say, that Heaven may prosper her.
Exeunt.
Enter Grimaldi.
Grimaldi.
Now if the Doctor keep his word, Soranzo,
Twenty to one you miss your Bride; I know
'Tis an unnoble act, and not becomes
A Souldiers vallor; but in terms of love,
Where Merite cannot sway, Policy must.
I am resolv'd, if this Phisitian
Play not on both hands, then Soranzo falls.
Enter Richardetto.
Richardetto.
You are come as I could wish, this very night Soranzo, 'tis ordain'd must be affied to Annabella; and for ought I know, married.
Grimaldi.
How!
Richardetto.
Yet your patience,
The place, 'tis Friars Bonaventures Cell.
Now I would wish you to bestow this night,
In watching thereabouts, 'tis but a night,
If you miss now, to morrow I'll know all.
Grimaldi.
Have you the poison?
Richardetto.
[225] Here 'tis in this Box,
Doubt nothing, this will do't; in any case
As you respect your life; be quick and sure.
Grimaldi.
I'll speed him.
Richardetto.
Do; away, for 'tis not safe
You should be seen much here---ever my love.
Grimaldi.
And mine to you.
Exit Gri.
Richardetto.
So, if this hitt, I'll laugh and hug revenge;
And they that now dreame of a wedding-feast,
May chance to mourn the lusty Bridegromes ruin.
But to my other businesse; Neice Philotis.
Enter Philotis.
Philotis.
Unkle.
Richardetto.
My lovely Neece, you have bethought 'ee.
Philotis.
Yes, and as you counseled,
Fashion'd my heart to love him, but he swears
He will to night be married; for he fears
His Unkle else, if he should know the drift,
Will hinder all, and call his Couze to shrift.
Richardetto.
To night? why best of all; but let me see,
I---ha---yes,---so it shall be; in disguise
We'll early to the Friars, I have thought on't.
Enter Bergetto and Poggio
Philotis.
Unkle, he comes.
Richardetto.
Welcome my worthy Couze.
Bergetto.
I asse pretty Lasse, come busse Lasse, a ha Poggio.
Philotis.
There's hope of this yet.
Richardetto.
[250] You shall have time enough, withdraw a little,
We must confer at large.
Bergetto.
Have you not sweet-meates, or dainty devices for me?
Philotis.
You shall enough Sweet-heart.
Bergetto.
Sweet-heart, marke that Poggio; by my troth I cannot choose but kiss thee once more for that word
Sweet-heart; Poggio, I have a monstrous swelling about my stomack, whatsoever the matter be.
Poggio.
You shall have Phisick for't sir.
Richardetto.
Time runs apace.
Bergetto.
Time's a blockhead.
Richardetto.
Be rul'd, when we have done what's fitt to do,
Then you may kiss your fill, and bed her too.
Exeunt.
Enter the Frar in his study, sitting in a chair, Annabella kneeling and whispering to him, a Table before them and wax-lights, she weepes, and wrings her hands.
Friar.
I am glad to see this pennance; for believe me,
You have unript a soul, so foul and guilty,
As I must tell you true, I marvail how
The earth hath born you up, but weepe, weep on,
These tears may do you good; weep faster yet,
Whiles I do reade a Lecture.
Annabella.
Wretched creature.
Friar.
I, you are wretched, miserably wretched,
Almost condemn'd alive; there is a place
(List daughter) in a black and hollow Vault,
Where day is never seene; there shines no Sun,
But flaming horrour of consuming Fires;
[275] A lightless Suphure, choakt with smoaky foggs
Of an infected darknesse; in this place
Dwell many thousand, thousand sundry sorts
Of never dying deaths; there damned souls
Roare without pity, there are Gluttons fedd
With Toades and Addars; there is burning Oyle
Powr'd down the Drunkards throate, the Vsurer
Is forced to supp whole draughts of molten Gold;
There is the Murtherer for-ever stab'd,
Yet can he never dye; there lies the wanton
On Racks of burning steele, whiles in his soul
He feeles the torment of his raging lust.
Annabella.
Mercy, oh mercy.
Friar
There stands these wretched things,
Who have dream't out whole years in lawless sheets
And secret incests, cursing one another;
Then you will wish, each kiss your brother gave,
Had been a Daggers point; then you shall hear
How he will cry, oh would my wicked sister
Had first been damn'd, when she did yield to lust.
But soft, methinks I see repentance worke
New motions in your heart, say? how is't with you?
Annabella.
Is there no way left to redeem my miseries?
Friar.
There is, despair not; Heaven is mercifull,
And offers grace even now; 'tis thus agreed,
[300] First, for your Honours safety that you marry
The Lord Soranzo, next, to save your soul,
Leave off this life, and henceforth live to him.
Annabella.
Ay me.
Friar.
Sigh not, I know the baytes of sin
Are hard to leave, oh 'tis a death to do't.
Remember what must come, are you content?
Annabella.
I am.
Friar.
I like it well, we'll take the time,
Who's near us there?
Enter Florio, Giovanni.
Florio.
Did you call Father?
Friar.
Is Lord Soranzo come?
Florio.
He stays belowe.
Friar.
Have you acquainted him at full?
Florio.
I have and he is over-joyed.
Friar.
And so are we; bid him come near.
Giovanni.
My Sister weeping, ha? I fear this Friars falshood,
I will call him.
Exit.
Florio.
Daughter, are you resolv'd?
Annabella.
Father, I am.
Enter Giovanni, Soranzo, and Vasques.
Florio.
My Lord Soranzo, here
Give me your hand, for that I give you this.
Soranzo.
Lady, say you so too?
Annabella.
I do, and vow, to live with you and yours.
Friar.
Timely resolv'd:
[325] My blessing rest on both, more to be done,
You may perform it on the Morning-sun.
Exeunt.
Enter Grimaldi with his Rapier drawne, and a Darke-lanthorn.
Grimaldi.
'Tis early night as yet, and yet too soon
To finish such a worke; here I will lye
To listen who comes next.
He lies downe.
Enter Bergetto and Philotis disguis'd, and after Richardetto and Poggio.
Bergetto.
We are almost at the place, I hope Sweet-heart.
Grimaldi.
I hear them near, and heard one say Sweet-heart,
'Tis he? now guide my hand some angry justice
Home to his bosome, now have at you sir.
strikes Ber. & Exit.
Bergetto.
Oh helpe, helpe, here's a stich fallen in my gutts,
Oh for a Flesh-tailor quickly---Poggio.
Philotis.
What ails my love?
Bergetto.
I am sure I cannot piss forward and backward and yet
I am wet before and behind, lights, lights, ho lights.
Philotis.
Alas, some Villain here has slain my love.
Richardetto.
Oh Heaven forbid it; raise up the next neighbours
Instantly Poggio, and bring lights,
Exit Poggio.
How is't Bergetto? slain?
It cannot be; are you sure y'are hurt?
Bergetto.
O my belly seeths like a Porridge-pot, some cold water I shall boile over else; my whole body is in a sweat, that you may wring my shirt; feele here---why Poggio.
Enter Poggio with Officers, and lights and Halberts.
Poggio.
Here; alas, how do you?
Richardetto.
Give me a light, what's here? all blood! O sirs,
Signior Donado's Nephew now is slain,
[350] Follow the murtherer with all the haste
Up to the City, he cannot be far hence,
Follow I beseech you.
Officers.
Follow, follow, follow.
Exeunt Officers.
Richardetto.
Tear off thy linnen Couz, to stop his wounds,
Be of good comfort man.
Bergetto.
Is all this mine own blood? nay then good-night with me, Poggio, commend me to my Unkle, dost hear? bid him for my sake make much of this wench, oh---I am going the wrong way sure, my belly akes so---oh farwell,
Poggio---oh--- oh---
Dyes.
Philotis.
O he is dead.
Poggio.
How! dead!
Richardetto.
He's dead indeed,
'Tis now to late to weepe, let's have him home,
And with what speed we may, find out the Murtherer.
Poggio.
Oh my Maister, my Maister, my Maister.
Exeunt.
Enter Vasques and Hippolita.
Hippolita.
Betroath'd?
Vasquez.
I saw it.
Hippolita.
And when's the marriage-day?
Vasquez.
Some two days hence.
Hippolita.
Two days? Why man I would but wish two houres
To send him to his last, and lasting sleepe.
And Vasques thou shalt see, I'll do it bravely.
Vasquez.
I do not doubt your wisedome, nor (I trust) you my secrecy,
[375] I am infinitely yours.
Hippolita.
I wilbe thine in spight of my disgrace,
So soon? o wicked man, I durst be sworn,
He'd laugh to see me weepe.
Vasquez.
And that's a Villanous fault in him.
Hippolita.
No, let him laugh, I'me arm'd in my resolves,
Be thou still true.
Vasquez.
I should get little by treachery against so hopefull a preferment, as I am like to climbe to.
Hippolita.
Even to my bosome Vasques, let My youth
Revell in these new pleasures, if we thrive,
He now hath but a pair of days to live.
Exeunt.
Enter Florio, Donado, Richardetto, Poggio and Officers.
Florio.
'Tis bootless now to show yourself a child
Signior Donado, what is done, is done;
Spend not the time in tears, but seek for justice.
Richardetto.
I must confesse, somewhat I was in fault,
That had not first acquainted you what love
Past twixt him and my Neece, but as I live,
His Fortune grieves me as it were mine owne.
Donado.
Alas poore Creature, he ment no man harm,
That I am sure of.
Florio.
I believe that too;
But stay my Maisters, are you sure you saw
The Murtherer passe here?
Officer.
And it please you sir, we are sure we saw a Ruffian [400] with a naked weapon in his hand all bloody, get into my Lord Cardinals Graces gate, that we are sure of; but for fear of his Grace (bless us) we durst go no further.
Donado.
Know you what manner of man he was?
Officer.
Yes sure I know the man, they say a is a souldier, he that loved your daughter Sir an't please y'ee, 'twas he for certain.
Florio.
Grimaldi on my life.
Officer.
I, I, the same.
Richardetto.
The Cardinall is Noble, he no doubt
Will give true justice.
Donado.
Knock some one at the gate,
Poggio.
I'll knock sir.
Poggio knocks.
Servant within.
What would'ee?
Florio.
We require speech with the Lord Cardinall
About some present businesse, pray inform
His Grace, that we are here.
Enter Cardinall and Grimaldi.
Cardinal.
Why how now friends? what sawcy mates are you
That know nor duty nor Civillity?
Are we a person fit to be your hoast?
Or is our house become your common In
To beate our dores at pleasure? what such haste
Is yours as that it cannot wait fit times?
Are you the Maisters of this Common-wealth,
And know no more discretion? oh your newes
Is here before you, you have lost a Nephew
[425] Donado, last night by Grimaldi slain:
Is that your businesse? well sir, we have knowledge on't
Le that suffice.
Grimaldi.
In presence of your Grace,
In thought I never ment Bergetto harm,
But Florio you can tell, with how much scorn
Soranzo backt with his Confederates,
Hath often wrong'd me; I to be reveng'd,
(For that I could not win him else to fight)
Had thought by way of Ambush to have kild him,
But was unluckily, therein mistooke;
Else he had felt what late Bergetto did:
And though my fault to him were merely chance,
Yet humbly I submit me to your Grace,
To do with me as you please.
Cardinal.
Rise up Grimaldi,
You Cittizens of Parma, if you seek
For justice; Know as Nuntio from the Pope,
For this offence I here receive Grimaldi
Into his holiness protection.
He is no Common man, but nobly born;
Of Princes blood, though you Sir Florio,
Thought him to mean a husband for your daughter
If more you seek for, you must go to Rome,
For he shall thither; learn more wit for shame.
[450] Bury your dead---away Grimaldi---leave 'em.
Ex. Car. & Gri.
Donado.
Is this a Church-mans voice? dwels justice here?
Florio.
Justice is fledd to Heaven and comes no nearer
Soranzo, was't for him? O Impudence!
Had he the face to speak it, and not blush?
Come, come Donado, there's no help in this,
When Cardinals think murder's not amiss,
Great men may do there wills, we must obey,
But Heaven will judge them for't another day.
Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
A Banquet.
Hoboyes.
Enter the Friar, Giovanni, Annabella, Philotis, Soranzo, Donado, Florio, Richardetto, Putana and Vasques.
Friar.
These holy rights perform'd, now take your times,
To spend the remnant of the day in Feast;
Such fit repasts are pleasing to the Saints
Who are your guests, though not with mortall eyes
To be beheld; long prosper in this day
You happy Couple, to each others joy:
Soranzo.
Father, your prayer is heard, the hand of goodness
Hath been a sheild for me against my death;
And more to bless me, hath enricht my life
With this most precious jewell; such a prize
As Earth hath not another like to this.
Chear up my Love, and Gentlemen, my Friends,
Rejoice with me in mirth, this day we'll crown
With lusty Cups to Annabella's health.
Giovanni.
Oh Forture, were the marriage yet undone,
Aside.
Ere I'de endure this fight, to see my Love
Clipt by another, I would dare Confusion,
And stand the horrour of ten thousand deaths.
Vasquez.
Are you not well Sir?
Giovanni.
Prethee fellow wayte,
I need not thy officious diligence.
Florio.
Sígnior Donado, come you must forget
Your late mishaps, and drown your cares in wine.
Soranzo.
Vasques?
Vasquez.
[25] My Lord.
Soranzo.
Reach me that weighty bowle,
Here brother Giovanni, here's to you,
Your turn comes next, though now a Batchelor,
Here's to your sisters happiness and mine.
Giovanni.
I cannot drink.
Soranzo.
What?
Giovanni.
'Twill indeed offend me
Annabella.
Pray, do not urge him if he be not willing.
Florio.
How now, what noise is this?
Vasquez.
O sir, I had forgot to tell you; certain youg Maidens of Parma in honour to Madam Annabella's marriage, have sent their loves to her in a Masque, for which they humbly crave your patience and silence.
Soranzo.
We are much bound to them, so much the more as it comes unexpected; guide them in.
Hoboyes.
Enter Hippolita and Ladies in white Roabes with Garlands of Willowes.
Musick and a Daunce.
Dance.
Soranzo.
Thanks lovely Virgins, now might we but know
To whom we have been beholding for this love,
We shall acknowledge it.
Hippolita.
Yes, you shall know,
What think you now?
Omnes
Hippolita?
Hippolita.
'Tis she,
Bee not amaz'd; nor blush young lovely Bride,
I come not to defraud you of your man,
[50] 'Tis now no time to reckon up the talke
What Parma long hath rumour'd of us both,
Let rash report run on; the breath that vents it
Will (like a bubble) break itself at last.
But now to you Sweet Creature, lend's your hand,
Perhaps it hath been said, that I would claime
Some interest in Soranzo, now your Lord,
What I have right to do, his soul knowes best:
But in my duty to your Noble worth,
Sweet Annabella, and my care of you,
Here take Soranzo, take this hand from me,
Ple once more join, what by the holy Church
Is finished and allow'd; have I done well?
Soranzo.
You have too much ingag'd us.
Hippolita.
One thing more
That you may know my single charity,
Freely I here remit all interest
I ere could clayme; and give you back your vowes,
And to confirm't, reach me a Cup of wine
My Lord Soranzo, in this draught I drink,
Long rest t'ee---looke to it Vasques.
Vasquez.
Fear nothing---
He gives her a poisond Cup, She drinks.
Soranzo.
Hippolita, I thank you, and will pledge
This happy Union as another life,
Wine there.
Vasquez.
[75] You shall have none, neither shall you pledge her.
Hippolita.
How!
Vasquez.
Know now Mistress she devill, your own mischieuous treachery
Hath kild you, I must not marry you.
Hippolita.
Villain.
Omnes.
What's the matter?
Vasquez.
Foolish woeman, thou art now like a Fire-brand, that hath kindled others and burnt thyself; Troppo sperar niganna, thy vain hope hath deceived thee, thou art but dead, if thou hast any grace, pray.
Hippolita.
Monster.
Vasquez.
Dye in charity for shame,
This thing of malice, this woman had privately corrupted me with promise of malice, under this politique reconciliation to to poison my Lord, whiles she might laught at his Confusion on his marriage-day; I promis'd her fair, but I knew what my reward should have beene, and would willingly have spar'd her life, but that I was acquainted with the danger of her disposition, and now have fitted her a just payment in her own coin, there she is, she hath yet---and end thy days in peace vild woman, as for life there's no hope, think not on't.
Omnes.
Wonderfull justice!
Richardetto.
Heaven thou art righteous.
Hippolita.
O 'tis true,
I feele my minute comming, had that slave
[100] Kept promise, (o my torment) thou this houre
Had'st dyed Soranzo---heate above hell fire---
Yet ere I passe away---Cruell, cruell flames---
Take here my curse amongst you; may thy bed
Of marriage be a rack unto thy heart,
Burn blood and boile in Vengeance---o my heart,
My Flame's intolerable---maist thou live
To father Bastards, may her wombe bring forth
Monsters, and dye together in your sins
Hated, scorn'd and unpittied---oh---oh---
Dyes.
Florio.
Was e'er so vild a Creature?
Richardetto.
Here's the end
Of lust and pride.
Annabella.
It is a fearfull sight.
Soranzo.
Vasques, I know thee now a trusty servant,
And never will forget thee---come My Love,
We'll home, and thank the Heavens for this escape,
Father and Friends, we must break up this mirth,
It is too sad a Feast.
Donado.
Bear hence the body.
Friar.
Here's an ominous change,
Marke this my Giovanni, and take he?,
I fear the event; that marriage seldome's good,
Where the bride-banquet so begins in blood.
Exeunt.
Enter Richardetto and Philotis.
Richardetto.
My wretched wife more wretched in her shame
[125] Then in her wrongs to me, hath paid too soon
The forfeit of her modesty and life.
And I am sure (my Neece) though vengeance hover.
Keeping aloofe yet from Soranzo's fall,
Yet he will fall, and sink with his own weight.
I need not (now my heart perswades me so)
To further his confusion; there is one
Above begins to worke, for as I hear,
Debate's already twixt his wife and him,
Thicken and run to head; she (as 'tis said)
Sleighrens his love, and he abandons hers
Much talke I hear, since things go thus (my Neece)
In tender love and pity of your youth,
My counsell is, that you should free your years
From hazard of these woes; by flying hence
To fair Cremona, there to vow your soul
In holiness a holy Votaresse,
Leave me to see the end of these extreames
All human worldly courses are uneven,
No life is blessed but the way to Heaven.
Philotis.
Unkle, shall I resolve to be a Nun?
Richardetto.
I gentle Neece, and in your hourely prayers
Remember me your poore unhappy Unkle;
Hie to Cremona now, as Fortune leades,
Your home, your cloister, your best Friends, your beades,
[150] Your chast and single life shall crown your Birth,
Who dyes a Virgin, live a Saint on earth.
Philotis.
Then farwell world, and worldly thoughts adeiu,
Welcome chast vowes, myself I yield to you.
Exeunt.
Enter Soranzo unbraced, and Annabella dragg'd in.
Soranzo.
Come strumpet, famous whoore, were every drop
Of blood that runs in thy adulterous veynes
A life, this Sword, (dost see't) should in one blowe
Confound them all, Harlot, rare, notable Harlot,
That with thy brazen face maintainst thy sin
Was there no man in Parma to be bawd
To your loose cunning whoredome else but I?
Must your hot ytch and plurisy of lust,
The hey day of your luxury be fedd
Up to a surfeite, and could none but I
Be pickt out to be cloake to your close tricks,
Your belly-sports? Now I must be the Dad
To all that gallymaufrey that's stuft
In thy Corrupted bastard-bearing wombe,
Shey, must I?
Annabella.
Beastly man, why 'tis thy fate:
I sued not to thee, for, but that I thought,
Your Over-loving Lordship would have run
Madd on denyall, had ye lent me time,
I would have told 'ee in what case I was,
But you would needs be doing.
Soranzo.
[175] Whore of whores!
Dar'st thou tell me this?
Annabella.
O yes, why not?
You were deceived in me; 'twas not for love
I chose you, but for honour; yet know this,
Would you be patient yet, and hide your shame,
I'de see whether I could love you.
Soranzo.
Excellent Queane!
Why art thou not with Child?
Annabella.
What needs all this,
When 'tis superfluous? I confess I am.
Soranzo.
Tell me by whome.
Annabella.
Soft sir, 'twas not in my bargain.
Yet somewhat sir to stay your longing stomack
I'me content t'acquaint you with; The man,
The more then Man that got this sprightly Boy,
(For 'tis a Boi that for glory sir,
Your heire shall be a Son.)
Soranzo.
Damnable Monster.
Annabella.
Nay and you will not hear, I'll speak no more:
Soranzo.
Yes speak, and speak thy last.
Annabella.
A match, a match;
This Noble Creature was in every part
So angell-like, so glorious, that a woeman,
Who had not been but human as was I,
[200] Would have kneeled to him, and have beg'd for love.
You, why you are not worthy once to name
His name without true worship, or indeed,
Unless you kneeled, to hear another name him.
Soranzo.
What was he cal'd?
Annabella.
We are not come to that,
Let it suffice, that you shall have the glory,
To Father what so Brave a Father got.
In briefe, had not this chance, falne out as't doth,
I never had been troubled with a thought
That you had been a Creature; but for marriage,
I scarce dreame yet of that.
Soranzo.
Tell me his name.
Annabella.
Alas, alas, there's all
Will you believe?
Soranzo.
What?
Annabella.
You shall never know.
Soranzo.
How!
Annabella.
Never
If you do, let me be curst.
Soranzo.
Not know it, Strumpet, I'll ripp up thy heart,
And find it there.
Annabella.
Do, do.
Soranzo.
And with my teeth,
Tear the prodigious leacher joint by joint.
Annabella.
[225] Ha, ha, ha, the man's merry.
Soranzo.
Do'st thou laugh?
Come Whore, tell me your lover, or by Truth
I'll hew thy flesh to shreds; who is't
Annabella.
Che morte pluis dolce che morire per amore.
sings.
Soranzo.
Thus will I pull thy hair, and thus I'll drag
Thy lust be-leapred body through the dust.
Yet tell his name.
Annabella.
Morendo in gratia Lei morirere senza dolore.
sings
Soranzo.
Dost thou Triumph? the Treasure of the Earth
Shall not redeem thee, were there kneeling Kings,
Did begge thy life, or Angells did come down
To plead in tears, yet should not all prevail
Against my rage; do'st thou not tremble yet?
Annabella.
At what? to dye; No, be a Gallant hang-man
I dare thee to the worst, strike, and strike home,
I leave revenge behind, and thou shalt feel't.
Soranzo.
Yet tell me ere thou dyest, and tell me truely,
Knowes thy old Father this?
Annabella.
No by my life.
Soranzo.
Wilt thou confesse, and I will spare thy life?
Annabella.
My life? I will not buy my life so dear.
Soranzo.
I will not slack my Vengeance.
Enter Vasques.
Vasquez.
What d'ee mean Sir?
Soranzo.
Forbear Vasques, such a damned Whore
[250] Deserues no pity.
Vasquez.
Now the gods forefend!
And would you be her executioner, and kill her in your rage too?
O 'twere most unmanlike; she is your wife, what faults hath been done by her before she married you, were not against you; alas Poore Lady, what hath she committed, which any lady in Italy in the like case would not? Sir, you must be ruled by your reason, and not by your fury, that were unhuman and beastly.
Soranzo.
She shall not live.
Vasquez.
Come she must; you would have her confess the authors of her present misfortunes I warrant 'ee, 'tis an unconscionable demand, and she should lose the estimation that I (for my part) hold of her worth, if she had done it. Why sir you ought not of all men living to know it. Good sir be reconciled. Alas, good gentlewoman.
Annabella.
Pish, do not beg for me, I prize my life
As nothing; if the man will needs be mad,
Why let him take it.
Soranzo.
Vasques, hear'st thou this?
Vasquez.
Yes, and commend her for it; in this she shows the nobleness of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart, but it becomes her rarely---Sir, in any case smother your revenge; leave the senting out your wrongs to me, bee rul'd as you respect your honour, or you marr all---Sir, if ever my service were of [275] any credit with you, be not so violent in your distractions: you are married now; what a tryumph might the report of this give to other neglected Sutors, 'tis as manlike to boare extremities, as godlike to forgive.
Soranzo.
O Vasques, Vasques, in this piece of flesh,
This faithless face of hers, had I laid up
The treasure of my heart; hadst thou been vertuous
(Fair wicked woeman) not the matchless joies
Of Life itself had made me wish to live
With any Saint but thee; deceitfull creature,
How hast thou mocked my hopes, and in the shame
Of thy lewd wombe, even buried me alive?
I did too dearly love thee.
Vasquez.
This is well;
Follow this temper with some passion,
Aside.
Bee brief and moving, 'tis for the purpose.
Soranzo.
Be witness to my words thy soul and thoughts,
And tell me didst not think that in my heart,
I did too superstitiously adore thee.
Annabella.
I must confesse, I know you loved me well.
Soranzo.
And wouldst thou use me thus? O Annabella,
Bee thus assur'd, whatsoe'er the Villain was,
That thus hath tempted thee to This disgrace,
Well he might lust, but never loved like me:
He doated on the picture that hung out
[300] Upon thy cheeks, to please his humourous eye;
Not on the part I loved, which was thy heart,
And as I thought, thy Vertues.
Annabella.
O my Lord!
These words wound deeper then your Sword could do.
VasquezLet me not ever take comfort, but I begin to weep myself, so much I pity him; why Madam I knew when his rage was over-past, what it would come to.
Soranzo.
Forgive me Annabella, though thy youth
Hath tempted thee above thy strength to folly,
Yet will not I forget what I should be,
And what I am, a husband; in that name
Is hid Devinity; if I do find
That thou wilt yet be true, here I remit all former faults, and take thee to my bosome.
Vasquez
By my troth, and that's a point of noble charity.
Annabella.
Sir on my knees---
Soranzo.
Rise up, you shall not kneele,
Get you to your chamber, see you make no show
Of alteration, I le be with you streight;
My reason tells me now, that 'Tis as common
To err in frailty as to be a woeman.
Go to your chamber.
Exit Anna.
Vasquez
So, this was somewhat to the matter; what do you think of your heaven of happiness now sir?
Soranzo.
[325] I carry hell about me, all my blood
Is fir'd in swift revenge.
Vasquez.
That may be, but know you how, or on whom? alas, to marry a great woeman, being made great in the stock to your hand, is a usuall sport in these days; but to know what Secret it was that haunted your Cunny-berry, there's the cunning.
Soranzo.
I'll make her tell herself, or---
Vasquez.
Or what? you must not do so, let me yet perswade your sufferance a little while, go to her, use her mildly, win her if it be possible to a Voluntary, to a weeping tune; for the rest, if all hitt, I will not miss my marke; pray sir go in, the next news I tell you shall be wonders.
Soranzo.
Delay in vengeance gives a heauyer blow.
Exit.
Vas,
Ah sirrah, here's worke for the nonce; I had a suspicion of a bad matter in my head a pretty whiles ago; but after My Madams scuruy lookes here at home, her waspish peruersnesse, and loud fault-finding, then I remembered the Proverbe, that Where Hens crowe, and Cocks hold their peace, there are sorry houses; sfoot, if the lower parts of a She-tailors Cunning, can cover such a swelling in the stomack, I'll never blame a false stich in a shoe whiles I live again; up and up so quick? and so quickly too? 'twere a fine policy to learue by whom this must be knowne: and I have thought on't---here's the way or none---what crying old
Mistresse! alas, alas, I cannot blame 'ee, we have a Lord, Heaven help us, is so madde as the devill [350] himself, the more shame for him.
Enter Putana.
Putana.
O Vasques, that ever I was born to see this day,
Doth he use thee so too, sometimes Vasques?
Vasquez Me? why he makes a dogge of me; but if some were of my minde, I know what we would do; as sure as I am an honest man, he will go near to kill my Lady with unkindnesse; say she be with-child, is that such a matter for a young woeman of her years, to be blam'd for?
Putana.
Alas good heart, it is against her will full sore.
Vasquez.
I durst be sworn, all his madness is, for that she will not confess whose 'tis, which he will know, and when he doth know it, I am so well acquainted with his humour, that he will forget all streight; well I could wish, she would in plain terms tell all, for that's the way indeed.
Putana.
Do you think so?
Vasquez.
Fo, I know't; provided that he did not win her to't by force, he was once in a mind, that you could tell, and ment to have wrung it out of you, but I somewhat pacified him for that; yet sure you know a great deale.
Putana.
Heaven forgive us all, I know a little Vasques.
Vasquez.
Why should you not? who else should? upon my Conscience she loves you dearly, and you would not betray her to any affliction for the world.
Putana.
Not for all the world by my Faith and troth Vasques.
Vasquez.
'Twere pity of your life if you should, but In this you [375] should both releive her present discomforts, pacifie my
Lord, and gain yourself ever lasting love and preferment.
Putana.
Do'st think so Vasques?
Vasquez.
Nay I know't; sure 'twas some near and entire friend.
Putana.
'Twas a dear friend indeed; but---
Vasquez.
But what? fear not to name him; my life between you and danger; faith I think 'twas no base Fellow.
Putana.
Thou wilt stand between me and harm.?
Vasquez.
'Ud's pity, what else; you shall be rewarded too; trust me.
Putana.
'Twas even no worse then her own brother.
Vasquez.
Her brother Giovanni I warrant 'ee?
Putana.
Even he Vasques; as brave a Gentleman as ever kist fair Lady; O they love most perpetually.
Vasquez.
A brave Gentleman indeed, why therein I Commend her choice---better and better---you are sure 'twas he?
Putana.
Sure; and you shall see he will not be long from her too.
Vasquez.
He were to blame if he would: but may I believe thee?
Putana.
Believe me! why do'st think I am a Turke or a jew? no Vasques, I have known their dealings too long to belye them now.
Vasquez.
Where are you? there within sirs?
Enter Bandetti.
Putana.
How now, what are these?
Vasquez.
You shall know presently,
Come sirs, take me This old Damnable hagge,
[400] Gag her instantly, and put out her eyes, quickly, quickly.
Putana.
Vasques, Vasques.
Vasquez.
Gag her I say 'sfoot d'ee suffer her to prate? what d'ee fumble about? let me come to her, I'll help your old gums, you Toad-bellied bitch; sirs, carry her closely into the Coale-house, and put out her eyes instantly, if she roares, slitt her nose; d'ee hear, be speedy and sure. Why this is excellent and above expectation.
Exit with Putana.
Her own brother? O horrible! to what a height of liberty in damnation hath the Devill trayn'd our age, her
Brother, well; there's yet but a beginning, I must to my Lord, and tutor him better in his points of vengeance; now I see how a smooth tale goes beyond a smooth tail, but soft,--- what thing comes next?
Enter Giovanni.
Giovanni! as I would wish; my beleefe is strengthned,
'Tis as firm as Winter and Summer.
Giovanni.
Where's my Sister?
Vasquez.
Troubled with a new sicknes my Lord she's somwhat ill.
Giovanni.
Foole too much of the flesh I believe.
Vasquez.
Troth sir and you I think have e'ne hitt it,
But My vertuous Lady.
Giovanni.
Where's thee?
Vasquez.
In her chamber; please you visit her; she is alone, your liberality hath doubly made me your servant, and ever shal ever---
Exit Giovanni.
Sir, I am made a man, I have plyed my Cue with cunning
Enter Soranzo. [425] and successe, I beseech you let's be private.
Soran,
My Ladyes brother's come, now he?le know all.
Vasquez.
Let him know't, I have made some of them fast enough,
How have you delt with my Lady?
Soranzo.
Gently, as thou hast counsail'd; O my soul
Runs circular in sorrow for revenge,
But Vasques, thou shalt know---
Vasquez.
Nay, I will know no more; for now comes your turn to know; I would not talke so openly with you: Let my young /
Maister take time enough, and go at pleasure; he is sold to death, and the Devill shall not ransome him, Sir I beseech you, your privacy.
Soranzo.
No Conquest can gayne glory of my fear.
Exit.
Actus Quintus.
Enter Annabella above.
Annabella.
Pleasures farwell, and all ye thriftless minutes,
Wherein False joies have spun a weary life,
To these my Fortunes now I take my leave.
Thou Precious Time, that swiftly rid'st in poast
Over the world, to finish up the race
Of my last fate; here stay thy restless course,
And bear to Ages that are yet unborn,
A wretched woefull woemans Tragedy,
My Conscience now stands up against my lust
With dispositions charectred in guilt,
Enter Friar.
And tells me I am lost: Now I confesse,
Beauty that cloathes the out-side of the face,
Is cursed if it be not cloath'd with grace:
Here like a Turtle (mew'd up in a Cage)
Un-mated, I converse with Air and walls,
And descant on my vild unhappinesse.
O Giovanni, that hast had the spoile
Of thine own vertues and my modest fame,
Would thou hadst been less subiect to those Stars
That luckless raign'd at my Nativity:
O would the scourge due to my black offence
Might passe from thee, that I alone might feele
The torment of an uncontroled flame.
Friar.
What's this I hear?
Annabella.
[25] That man, that Blessed Friar,
Who joind in Ceremoniall knot my hand
To him whose wife I now am; told me oft,
I troad the path to death, and showed me how.
But they who sleep in Lethargies of Lust
Hugge their confusion, making Heaven unjust,
And so did I.
Friar.
Here's Musick to the soul.
Annabella.
Forgive me my Good Genius, and this once
Be helpfull to my ends; Let some good man
Passe this way, to whose trust I may commit
This paper double lin'd with tears and blood:
Which being granted; here I sadly vow
Repentance, and a leaving of that life
I long have dyed in.
Friar.
Lady, Heaven hath heard you,
And hath by providence ordain'd, that I should be his Minister for your behoofe.
Annabella.
Ha, what are you?
Friar.
Your brothers friend the Friar;
Glad in my soul that I have lived to hear
This free confession twixt your peace and you,
What would you or to whom? fear not to speak.
Annabella.
Is Heaven so bountifull? then I have found
More fauour then I hop'd; here Holy man---
Throwes a letter.
[50] Commend me to my Brother give him that,
That Letter; bid him read it and repent,
Tell him that I (imprison'd in my chamber,
Bard of all company, even of My Guardian,
Who gives me cause of much suspect) have time
To blush at what hath past: bidd him be wise,
And not believe the Friendship of my Lord,
I fear much more then I can speak: Good father,
The place is dangerous, and spyes are busy,
I must break off---you'll do't?
Friar.
Be sure I will;
And fly with speed---my blessing ever rest
With thee my daughter, live to dye more blessed.
Exit Friar.
Annabella.
Thanks to the heavens, who have prolong'd my breath
To this good use: Now I can welcome Death.
Exit.
Enter Soranzo and Vasques.
Vasquez.
Am I to be beleev'd now?
First, marry a strumpet that cast herself away upon you but to laugh at your horns? to feast on your disgrace, riott in your vexations, cuckold you in your bride-bed, waste your estate upon Panders and Bawds?
Soranzo.
No more, I say no more.
Vasquez.
A Cuckold is a goodly tame beast my Lord.
Soranzo.
I am resolv'd; urge not another word,
My thoughts are great, and all as resolute
As thunder; in mean time I'll cause our Lady
[75] To deck herself in all her bridall Robes,
Kiss her, and fold her gently in my arms,
Begone; yet hear you, are the Bandetti ready
To wait in Ambush?
Vasquez.
Good Sir, trouble not yourself about other business, then your own resolution; remember that time lost cannot be recal'd.
Soranzo.
With all the cunning words thou canst, invite
The States of Parma to my Birth-days feast,
Haste to my Brother rivall and his Father,
Entreate them gently, bidd them not to fail,
Bee speedy and return.
Vasquez.
Let not your pity betray you, till my comming back,
Think upon Incest and Cuckoldry.
Soranzo.
Revenge is all the Ambition I aspire,
To that I'll clime or fall; my blood's on fire.
Exeunt.
Enter Giovanni.
Giovanni.
Busy opinion is an idle Foole,
That as a Schoole-rod keepes a child in awe,
Frights the unexperienced temper of the mind:
So did it me; who ere My precious Sister
Was married, thought all tast of love would dye
In such a Contract; but I find no change
Of pleasure in this formall law of sports.
She is still one to me, and every kiss
As sweet, and as delicious as the first
I reaped; when yet the priviledge of youth
[100] Intitled her a Virgin: O the glory
Of two united hearts like hers and mine!
Let Poaring booke-men dreame of other worlds,
My world, and all of happiness is here,
And I'de not change it for the best to come,
A life of pleasure is Elyzeum.
Enter Friar
Father, you enter on the jubile
Of my retir'd delights; Now I can tell you,
The hell you oft have prompted, is nought else
But slavish and fond superstitious fear;
And I could prove it too---
Friar.
Thy blindness stays thee,
Looke there, 'tis writt to thee.
Gives the Letter.
Giovanni.
From whom?
Friar.
Unrip the seales and see:
The blood's yet seething hot, that will anon
Be frozen harder then congeal'd Corrall.
Why d'ee change color son?
Giovanni.
Fore Heaven you make
Some petty Devill factor 'twixt my love
And your relligion-masked sorceries.
Where had you this?
Friar.
Thy Conscience youth is sear'd,
Else thou wouldst stoope to warning.
Giovanni.
'Tis her hand,
[125] I know't; and 'tis all written in her blood.
She writes I know not what; Death? I'll not fear
An armed thunder-bolt aym'd at my heart.
She writes we are discovered, pox on dreames
Of lowe faint-hearted Cowardise; discovered?
The Devill we are; which way is't possible?
Are we grown Traytoms to our own delights?
Confusion take such dotage, 'tis but forg'd,
This is your peevish chattering weak old man,
Now sir, what newes bring you?
Enter Vasques.
Vasquez.
My Lord, according to his yearly custome keeping this day a Feast in honour of his Birth-day, by me invites you thither; your worthy Father with the Popes reverend Nuntio, and other Magnifico's of Parma, have promis'd their presence, wilt please you to be of the number?
Giovanni.
Yes, tell them I dare come.
Vasquez.
Dare come?
Giovanni.
So I said; and tell him more I will come.
Vasquez.
These words are strange to me.
Giovanni.
Say I will come.
Vasquez.
You will not miss?
Giovanni.
Yet more, I'll come; sir, are you answer'd?
Vasquez.
So Ile say---my service to you.
Exit Vasquez.
Friar.
You will not go I trust.
Giovanni.
Not go? for what?
Friar.
[150] O do not go this feast (I'll gage my life)
Is but a plot to trayne you to your ruin,
Be ruld, you sha'not go.
Giovanni.
Not go? stood Death
Threatning his armies of confounding plagues,
With hoists of dangers hot as blazing Starts,
I would be there: not go? yes and resolve
To strike as deep is slaughter as they all.
For I will go.
Friar.
Go where thou wilt, I see
The wildness of thy Fate drawes to an end,
To a bad fearfull end; I must not stay
To know thy fall, back to Bonenia I
With speed will haste, and shun this comming blowe.
Parma farwell, would I had never known thee,
Or ought of thine; well Youngman, since no prayer
Can make thee safe, I leave thee to despair.
Exit Friar.
Despair or tortures of a thousand hells
All's one to me; I have set up my rest.
Now, now, worke serious thoughts on banefull plots
Be all a man my soul; let not the Curse
Of old prescription rent from me the gall
Of Courage, which inrolls a glorious death.
If I must totter like a well-grown Oak,
Some under shrubs shall in my weighty fall
[175] Be crusht to splitts: with me they all shall perish.
Exit.
Enter Soranzo, Vasques, and Bandetti.
Soranzo.
You will not fail, or shrink in the attempt?
Vasquez.
I will undertake for their parts; be sure my Maisters to be bloody enough, and as unmercifull, as if you were praying upon a rich booty on the very Mountains of Liguria; for your pardons trust to my Lord; but for reward you shall trust none but your own pockets.
Bandetti (omnes).
We'll make a murther.
Soranzo.
Here's gold, here's more; want nothing, what you do is noble, and an act of brave revenge.
I'll make ye rich Bandetti and all Free.
Omnes.
Liberty, liberty.
Vasquez.
Hold, take every man a Vizard; when ye are withdrawne, keep as much silence as you can possibly; you know the watch-word, till which be spoken move not, but when you hear that, rush in like a stormy-flood; I need not instruct ye in your own profession.
All.
No, no, no.
Vasquez.
In then, your ends are profit and preferment---away.
Exit Bandetti.
Soranzo.
The guests will all come Vasques?
Vasquez.
Yes sir, and now let me a little edge your resolution; you see nothing is unready to this Great worke, but a great mind in you: Call to your remembrance your disgraces, your losse of Honour, Hippolita's blood; and arm your courage in your own [200] wrongs, so shall you best right those wrongs in vengeance which you may truely call Your owne.
Soranzo.
'Tis well; the less I speak, the more I burn, and blood shall quench that flame.
Vasquez.
Now you begin to turn Italian, this beside, when my young Incest-monger comes, he wilbe sharpe set on his old bitt: give him time enough, let him have your Chamber and bed at liberty; let my Hot Hare have law ere he be hunted to his death, that if it be possible, he may poast to Hell in the very Act of his damnation.
Enter Giovanni.
Soranzo.
It shall be so; and see as we would wish,
He comes himself first; welcome my Much-loved brother,
Now I perceive you honour me; y'are welcome,
But where's my father?
Giovanni.
With the other States,
Attending on the Nuntio of the Pope
To wait upon him hither; how's my sister?
Soranzo.
Like a good huswife, scarcely ready yet,
Y'are best walke to her chamber.
Giovanni.
If you will.
Soranzo.
I must expect my honourable Friends,
Good brother get her forth.
Giovanni.
You are busy Sir.
Exit Giovanni.
Vasquez.
Even as the great Devill himself would have it, let him go and glut himself in his own destruction; harke, the Nuncio [225] is at hand; good sir be ready to receive him.
Florish.
Enter Cardinall, Florio, Donado, Richardetto and Attendants.
Soranzo.
Most reverend Lord, this grace hath made me proud,
That you vouchsafe my house; I ever rest
Your humble servant for this Noble Fauour.
Cardinal.
You are our Friend my Lord, his holiness
Shall understand, how zealously you honour
Saint Peters Vicar in his substitute
Our speciall love to you.
Soranzo.
Signiors to you
My welcome, and my ever best of thanks
For this so memorable courtesy,
Pleaseth your Grace to walke near?
Cardinal.
My Lord, we come
To celebrate your Feast with Civill mirth,
As ancient custome teacheth: we will go.
Soranzo.
Attend his grace there, Signiors keep your way.
Exeunt
Enter Giovanni and Annabella lying on a bed.
Giovanni.
What chang'd so soon? hath your new sprightly Lord
Found out a trick in night-games more then we
Could know in our simplicity? ha! is't so?
Or does the fitt come on you, to prove treacherous
To your past vowes and oathes?
Annabella.
Why should you jeast
At my Calamity, without all sence
Of the approaching dangers you are in?
Giovanni.
What danger's halfe so great as thy reuolt?
[250] Thou art a faithless sister, else thou know'st,
Malice, or any treachery beside
Would stoope to my bent-browes; why I hold Fate
Clasped in my fist, and could Command the Course
Of times eternall motion; hadst thou been
One thought more steddy then an ebbing Sea.
And what? you'll now be honest, that's resolv'd?
Annabella.
Brother, dear brother, know what I have beene,
And know that now there's but a dying time
Twixt us and our Confusion: let's not waste
These precious houres in vayne and useless speech.
Alas, these gay attires were not put on
But to some end; this suddain solemne Feast
Was not ordayn'd to riott in expence;
I that have now been chambred here alone,
Bard of my Guardian, or of any else,
Am not for nothing at an instant free'd
To fresh accesse; be not deceived My Brother,
This Banquet is an harbinger of Death
To you and me, resolve yourself it is,
And be prepar'd to welcome it.
Giovanni.
Well then,
The Schoole-men teach that all this Globe of earth
Shall be consum'd to ashes in a minute.
Annabella.
So I have read too.
Giovanni.
[275] But 'twere some what strange
To see the Waters burn, could I believe
This might be true, I could believe aswell
There might be hell or Heaven.
Annabella.
That's most certain.
Giovanni.
A dreame, a dreame; else in this other world
We should know one another.
Annabella.
So we shall.
Giovanni.
Have you heard so?
Annabella.
For certain.
Giovanni.
But d'ee think,
That I shall see you there,
You looke on me,
May woe kiss one another,
Prate or laugh,
Or do as we do here?
Annabella.
I know not that,
But good for the present, what d'ee mean
To free yourself from danger? some way, think
How to escape; I'me sure the guests are come.
Giovanni.
Looke up, looke here; what see you in my face?
Annabella.
Distraction and a troubled Countenance.
Giovanni.
Death and a swift repining wrath---yet looke,
What see you in mine eyes?
Annabella.
Methinks you weepe.
Giovanni.
[300] I do indeed; these are the funerall tears
Shed on your grave, these furrowed up my cheeks
When first I loved and knew not how to woe.
Fair Annabella, should I here repeate
The Story of my life, we might loose time.
Be record all the spirits of the Air,
And all things else that are; that Day and Night,
Early and late, the tribute which my heart
Hath paid to Annabella's sacred love,
Hath been these tears, which are her mourners now:
Never till now did Nature do her best,
To show a matchless beauty to the world,
Which in an instant, ere it scarse was seene,
The jealous Destinies require again.
Pray Annabella, pray; since we must part,
Go thou white in thy soul, to fill a Throne
Of Innocence and Sanctity in Heaven.
Pray, pray my Sister.
Annabella.
Then I see your drift,
Yee blessed Angels, guard me.
Giovanni.
So say I,
Kiss me; if ever after times should hear
Of our fast-knit affections, though perhaps
The Lawes of Conscience and of Civill use
May justly blame us, yet when they but know
[325] Our loves, That love will wipe away that rigour,
Which would in other Incests be abhorr'd.
Give me your hand; how sweetly Life doth run
In these well colored veins! how constantly
These Palmes do promise health! but I could chide
With Nature for this Cunning flattery,
Kiss me again---forgive me.
Annabella.
With my heart.
Giovanni.
Farwell.
Annabella.
Will you begone?
Giovanni.
Be darke bright Sun,
And make this mid-day night, that thy guilt rays
May not behold a deed, will turn their splendour
More sooty, then the Poets faigne their Stix.
One other kiss my Sister.
Annabella.
What meanes this?
Giovanni.
To save thy fame and kill thee in a kiss.
stabs her.
Thus dye, and dye by me, and by my hand,
Revenge is mine; Honour doth love Command.
Annabella.
Oh brother by your hand?
Giovanni.
When thou art dead
I'll give my reasons for't; for to dispute
With thy (even in thy death) most lovely beauty,
Would make me stagger to perform this act
Which I most glory in.
Annabella.
[350] Forgive him Heaven---and me my sins, farwell.
Brother unkind, unkind---mercy great Heaven---oh---oh.
Dyes,
Giovanni.
She's dead, alas good soul; The hapless Fruite
That in her wombe received its life from me,
Hath had from me a Cradle and a Grave.
I must not dally, this sad Marriage-bed
In all her best, bore her alive and dead.
Soranzo thou hast mist thy ayme in this,
I have prevented now thy reaching plots,
And kil'd a Love, for whose each drop of blood
I would have pawn'd my heart; Fair Annabella,
How over-glorious art thou in thy wounds,
Tryumphing over infamy and hate!
Shrink not Courageous hand, stand up my heart,
And boldly act my last, and greater part.
Exit with the Body.
A Banquet.
Enter Cardinall, Florio, Donado, Soranzo, Richardetto, Vasques and attendants; They take their places.
Vasquez.
Remember Sir what you have to do, be wise and resolute.
Soranzo.
Enough---my heart is fixed, pleaseth Your Grace
To taste these Course Confections; though the use
Of such set enterteyments more consists
In Custome, then in Cause; yet Reverend Sir,
I am still made your servant by your presence.
Cardinal.
And we your Friend.
Soranzo.
But where's my Brother Giovanni?
Enter Giovanni with at heart upon his Dagger.
Giovanni.
Here, here Soranzo; trim'd in reeking blood,
That tryumphs over death; proud in the spoile
[375] Of Love and Vengeance, Fate or all the Powers
That guide the motions of Immortall Souls
Could not prevent mee.
Cardinal.
What meanes this?
Florio.
Son Giovanni?
Soranzo.
Shall I be forestall'd?
Giovanni.
Be not amaz'd: If your misgiving hearts
Shrink at an idle sight; what bloodless Fear
Of Coward passion would have ceaz'd your sences,
Had you beheld the Rape of Life and Beauty
Which I have acted? my sister, oh my sister.
Florio.
Ha! What of her?
Giovanni.
The Glory of my Deed
Darkned the mid-day Sun, made Noon as Night.
You came to feast My Lords with dainty fare,
I came to feast too, but I dig'd for food
In a much richer Myne then Gold or Stone
Of any value balanced; 'tis a Heart,
A Heart my Lords, in which is mine intomb'd,
Looke well upon't; d'ee know't?
Vasquez.
What strange ridle's this?
Giovanni.
'Tis Annabella's Heart, 'tis; why d'ee startle?
I vow 'tis hers, this Daggers point plow'd up
Her fruitefull wombe, and left to me the fame
Of a most glorious executioner.
Florio.
[400] Why mad-man, art thyself?
Giovanni.
Yes Father, and that times to come may know,
How as my Fate I honoured my revenge:
List Father, to your ears I will yield up
How much I have deserv'd to be your son.
Florio.
What is't thou say'st?
Giovanni.
Nine Moons have had their changes,
Since I first throughly view'd and truely loved
Your Daughter and my Sister.
Florio.
How! alas my Lords, he?s a frantick mad-man!
Giovanni.
Father no;
For nine Months space, in secret I enjoyed
Sweet Annabella's sheets; Nine Months I lived
A happy Monarch of her heart and her,
Soranzo, thou know'st this; thy paler cheek
Bears the Confounding print of thy disgrace,
For her too fruitfull wombe too soon bewrayed
The happy passage of our stolne delights,
And made her Mother to a Child unborn.
Cardinal.
Incestuous Villain.
Florio.
Oh his rage belyes him.
Giovanni.
It does not, 'tis the Oracle of truth,
I vow it is so.
Soranzo.
I shall burst with fury,
Bring the strumpet forth.
Vasquez.
[425] I shall Sir.
Exit Vasquez.
Giovanni.
Do sir, have you all no faith
To credit yet my Triumphs? here I swear
By all that you call sacred, by the love
I bore my Annabella whil'st she lived,
These hands have from her bosome ript this heart.
Is't true or no sir?
Enter Vasquez.
Vasquez.
'Tis most strangely true.
Florio.
Cursed man---have I lived to---
Dies.
Cardinal.
Hold up Florio,
Monster of Children, see what thou hast done,
Broake thy old Fathers heart; is none of you
Dares venter on him?
Giovanni.
Let 'em; oh my Father,
How well his death becomes him in his griefes!
Why this was done with Courage; now survives
None of our house but I, guilt in the blood
Of a fair sister and a Hapless Father.
Soranzo.
Inhaman scorn of men, hast thou a thought.
T'outlive thy murthers?
Giovanni.
Yes, I tell thee yes;
For in my fists I bear the twists of life,
Soranzo, see this heart which was thy wives,
Thus I exchange it royally for thine,
And thus and thus, now brave revenge is mine.
Vasquez.
[450] I cannot hold any longer; you sir, are you grown insolent in your butcheries? have at you!
Fight.
Giovanni.
Come, I am arm'd to meet thee.
Vasquez.
No, will it not be yet? if this will not, another shall,
Not yet; I shall fitt you anon---
Vengeance.
Enter Bandetti.
Giovanni.
Welcome, come more of you what e'er you be,
I dare your worst---
Oh I can stand no longer. Feeble arms,
Have you so soon lost strength?
Vasquez.
Now you are welcome Sir,
Away my Maisters, all is done,
Shift for yourselves, your reward is your owne,
Shift for yourselves.
Ban.
Away, away.
Exeunt Bandetti.
Vasquez.
How d'ee my Lord, see you this? how is't?
Soranzo.
Dead; but in death well pleased, that I have lived
To see my wrongs reveng'd on that Black Devill.
O Vasques, to thy bosome let me give
My last of breath, let not that Lecher live---oh
Dies.
Vasquez.
The Reward of peace and rest be with him,
My ever dearest Lord and Maister.
Giovanni.
Whose hand gave me this wound?
Vasquez.
Mine Sir, I was your first man, have you enough?
Giovanni.
I thank thee, thou hast done for me but what I would have else done on myself, ar't sure thy Lord is dead?
Vasquez.
[475] Oh Impudent slave, as sure as I am sure to see the dye.
Cardinal.
Think on thy life and end, and call for mercy.
Giovanni.
Mercy? why I have found it in this justice.
Cardinal.
Strive yet to cry to Heaven.
Giovanni.
Oh I bleed fast,
Death, thou art a guest long looked for, I embrace
Thee and thy wounds; oh my last minute comes.
Where e'er I go, let me enjoy this grace,
Freely to view My Annabella's face.
Dyes.
Donado.
Strange Miracle of justice!
Cardinal.
Rayse up the City, we shall be murdered all.
Vasquez.
You need not fear, you shall not; this strange taske being ended, I have paid the Duty to the Son, which I have vowed to the Father.
Cardinal.
Speak wretched Villain, what incarnate Feind
Hath led thee on to this?
Vasquez.
Honesty, and pity of my Maisters wrongs; for know My Lord, I am by birth a Spaniard, brought forth my countrey in my youth by Lord Soranzo's Father; whom whil'st he lived, I serv'd faithfully; since whose death I have been to this man, as I was to him; what I have done was duty, and I repent nothing, but that the losse of my life had not ransom'd his.
Cardinal.
Say Fellow, know'st thou any yet unnam'd
Of Counsell in this Incest?
Vasquez.
Yes, an old woeman, sometimes Guardian to this murthered [500] Lady.
Cardinal.
And what's become of her?
Vasquez.
Within this Roome she is, whose eyes after her confession I caus'd to be put out, but kept alive, to confirm what from Giovanni's own mouth you have heard: now My Lord, what I have done, you may judge of, and let your own wisedome be a judge in your own reason.
Cardinal.
Peace; First this woeman chief in these effects,
My sentence is, that forthwith she be tane
Out of the City, for examples sake,
There to be burnt to ashes.
Donado.
'Tis most just.
Cardinal.
Be it your charge Donado, see it done.
Donado.
I shall.
Vasquez.
What for mee? if death, 'tis welcome, I have been honest to the Son, as I was to the Father.
Cardinal.
Fellow, for thee; since what thou did'st, was done
Not for thyself, being no Italian,
We banish thee for ever, to depart
Within three days, in this we do dispense
With grounds of reason not of thine offence.
Vasquez.
'Tis well; this Conquest is mine, and I rejoice that a Spaniard out-went an Italian in revenge.
Exit Vasquez.
Cardinal.
Take up these slaughtered bodies, see them buried,
And all the Gold and jewells, or whatsoever,
[525] Confiscate by the Canons of the Church,
We ceaze upon to the Popes proper use.
Richardetto.
Your Graces pardon, thus long I lived disguis'd
To see the effect of Pride and Lust at once
Brought both to shamefull ends.
Cardinal.
What Richardetto whom we thought for dead?
Donado.
Sir was it you---
Richardetto.
Your friend.
Cardinal.
We shall have time
To talke at large of all, but never yet
Incest and Murther have so strangely met.
Of one so young, so rich in Nature's store,
Who could not say, 'Tis pity she's a whore?
Exeunt.
FINIS.
=============================================================
Other texts of interest
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Robert Whittington, The Costlie Whore: a comicall historie (1633). STC 25582.
SHREWS
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Anon., The cucking of a scold (G.P. 1615?). STC 6100.
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John Elborow, Evodias and Syntyche, or the female zealots (1637). STC 755.
Anon., Mery jeste of a shrewde and curste wife [1580?]. STC 14521.
Anon., The lamenting lady, who for the wrongs done by her was most strangely punished (1620?). STC 15120.
I. (or J.) R., The Taming of a Shrew (ballad, n.d.). STC 20578.
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Anon., The Taming of a Shrew (play, 3 eds., (1594-1607). STC 23667-9 (3 eds.).
Ercole Tasso, Of Marriage and Wiving (1599). STC 23690.
Anon., Whipping cheere: or the wofull lamentations of the 3 sisters in the Spittle (1612). STC 23690.
Anon., A good wife, or none (1635?). STC 25611.
Anon., ...The wit of a woman (1604). STC 25611.
Anon., The Good Wives forecast (ballad, 1625?). STC 25936.
Anon., Half a dozen of good wives (ballads, 1634). STC 25936.
Anon., The proud wyves pater noster (1560). STC 25938.
Stephen Gosson, Quippes for upstart newfantled gentlewomen (1595). STC 12096.