Enter Lactantio and Page
PAGE
Think of your shame, and mine.
LACTANTIO
I prithee, peace.
Thou art th’unfortunat’st piece of taking business
That ever man repented when day peeped.
I’ll ne’er keep such a piece of touchwood again,
An I were rid of thee once. Well fare those
That never shamed their master! I have had such,
And I may live to see the time again,
I do not doubt on’t.
PAGE
If my too much kindness
Receive your anger only for reward,
The harder is my fortune. I must tell you, sir,
To stir your care up to prevention —
Misfortunes must be told as well as blessings —
When I left all my friends in Mantua
For your love’s sake alone, then with strange oaths
You promised present marriage.
LACTANTIO
‘With strange oaths’, quoth a?
They’re not so strange to me. I have sworn the same things,
I am sure, forty times over; not so little.
I may be perfect in ‘em, for my standing.
PAGE
You see ’tis high time now, sir.
LACTANTIO
Yes, yes, yes.
Marriage is nothing with you, a toy till death.
If I should marry all those I have promised,
’Twould make one vicar hoarse ere he could dispatch us.
[The Page stands apart and weeps]
I must devise some shift. When she grows big
Those masculine hose will shortly prove too little.
What if she were conveyed to Nurse’s house —
A good, sure old wench, and she’d love the child well
Because she suckled the father. No ill course,
By my mortality; I may hit worse.
Enter Dondolo
Now, Dondolo, the news?
DONDOLO
The news?
LACTANTIO
How does she?
DONDOLO
Soft, soft, sir, you think ’tis nothing to get news
Out o’th’ castle? I was there.
LACTANTIO
Well, sir?
DONDOLO
As you know,
A merry fellow may pass anywhere.
LACTANTIO
SO, sir?
DONDOLO
Never in better fooling in my life.
LACTANTIO
What’s this to th’ purpose?
DONDOLO
Nay, ’twas nothing to th’ purpose, that’s certain.
LACTANTIO
How wretched this slave makes me! Didst not see her?
DONDOLO
I saw her.
LACTANTIO
Well, what said she, then?
DONDOLO
Not a word, sir.
LACTANTIO
How, not a word?
DONDOLO
Proves her the better maid,
For virgins should be seen more than they’re heard.
LACTANTIO
Exceeding good, sir; you are no sweet villain.
DONDOLO
No, faith, sir, for you keep me in foul linen.
LACTANTIO
Turned scurvy rhymer, are you?
DONDOLO
Not scurvy neither,
Though I be somewhat itchy in the profession.
If you could hear me out with patience,
I know her mind as well as if I were in her belly.
LACTANTIO
Thou saidst e’en now she never spake a word.
DONDOLO
But she gave certain signs, and that’s as good.
LACTANTIO
Canst thou conceive by signs?
DONDOLO
O, passing well, sir,
E’en from an infant; did you ne’er know that?
I was the happiest child in all our country;
I was born of a dumb woman.
LACTANTIO
HOW?
DONDOLO
Stark dumb, sir. My father had a rare bargain of her, a rich pennyworth. There would have been but too much money given for her. A Justice of Peace was about her, but my father, being then constable, carried her before him.
LACTANTIO
Well, since we are entered into these dumb-shows,
What were the signs she gave you?
DONDOLO
Many and good, sir.
Imprimis, she first gaped; but that, I guessed,
Was done for want of air ‘cause she’s kept close;
But had she been abroad and gaped as much,
‘T had been another case. Then cast she up
Her pretty eye and winked; the word me thought was then
‘Come not till twitter light’.
Next, thus her fingers went, as who should say,
‘I’d fain have a hole broke to scape away.’
Then looked upon her watch, and twice she nodded,
As who should say, ‘The hour will come, sweetheart,
That I shall make two noddies of my keepers.’
LACTANTIO
A third of thee. Is this your mother tongue?
My hopes are much the wiser for this language!
There is no such curse in love to an arrant ass.
DONDOLO
O yes, sir, yes, an arrant whore’s far worse.
You ne’er lin
Railing on me from one week’s end to another.
But you can keep a little titmouse page there,
That’s good for nothing but to carry toothpicks,
Put up your pipe, or so; that’s all he’s good for.
He cannot make him ready as he should do;
I am fain to truss his points ev’ry morning.
Yet the proud scornful ape, when all the lodgings
Were taken up with strangers th’other night,
He would not suffer me to come to bed to him,
But kicked and pricked and pinched me like an urchin.
There’s no good quality in him. O’ my conscience,
I think he scarce knows how to stride a horse.
I saw him with a little hunting nag
But thus high t’other day, and he was fain to lead him
To a high rail and get up like a butter-wench.
There’s no good fellowship in this dandiprat,
This dive-dapper, as is in other pages.
They’d go a-swimming with me familiarly
I’th’ heat of summer, and clap what-you-call-’ems;
But I could never get that little monkey
Yet to put off his breeches.
A tender, puling, nice, chitty-faced squall ’tis.
LACTANTIO
Is this the good you do me? His love’s wretched
And most distressed that must make use of fools.
DONDOLO
[aside]
‘Pool’ to my face still! That’s unreasonable.
I will be a knave one day for this trick, or it shall cost me a fall, though it be from a gibbet —
It has been many a proper man’s last leap.
Nay, sure I’ll be quite out of the precincts of a fool if I live but two days to an end.
I will turn Gypsy presently,
And that’s the highway to the daintiest knave
That ever mother’s son took journey to.
O, those dear Gypsies,
They live the merriest lives, eat sweet stol’n hens
Plucked over pales or hedges by a twitch;
They are ne’er without a plump and lovely goose,
Or beautiful sow-pig.
Those things I saw with mine own eyes today.
They call those vanities and trifling pilf ries,
But if a privy search were made amongst ‘em
They should find other manner of ware about ‘em:
Cups, rings, and silver spoons, by’r Lady, bracelets,
Pearl necklaces, and chains of gold sometimes.
They are the wittiest thieves. I’ll stay no longer,
But e’en go look what I can steal now presently,
And so begin to bring myself acquainted with ‘em.
Exit
LACTANTIO
Nothing I fear so much as, in this time
Of my dull absence, her first love, the General,
Will wind himself into her affection
By secret gifts and letters; there’s the mischief.
I have no enemy like him. Though my policy
Dissembled him a welcome, no man’s hate
Can stick more close unto a loathed disease
Than mine to him.
Enter Lord Cardinal
LORD CARDINAL
What ails this pretty boy to weep so often?
Tell me the cause, child. How his eyes stand full!
Beshrew you, nephew, you’re too bitter to him.
He is so soft th’unkindness of a word
Melts him into a woman.’Las, poor boy,
Thou shalt not serve him longer. ‘Twere great pity
That thou shouldst wait upon an angry master.
I have promised thee to one will make much of thee,
And hold thy weak youth in most dear respect.
PAGE
O, I beseech your grace, that I may serve
No master else.
LORD CARDINAL
Thou shalt not. Mine’s a mistress,
The greatest mistress in all Milan, boy:
The Duchess’ self.
PAGE
Nor her, nor any.
LORD CARDINAL Cease, boy,
Thou knowest not thine own happiness, through fondness,
And therefore must be learnt. Go dry thine eyes.
PAGE
This rather is the way to make ‘em moister. Exit
LORD CARDINAL
Now nephew, nephew.
LACTANTIO
O , you’ve snatched my spirit, sir,
From the divinest meditation
That ever made soul happy.
LORD CARDINAL [aside] I am afraid
I shall have as much toil to bring him on now
As I had pains to keep her off from him. —
I have thought it fit, nephew, considering
The present barrenness of our name and house
(The only famine of succeeding honour)
To move the ripeness of your time to marriage.
LACTANTIO
How, sir, to marriage?
LORD CARDINAL Yes, to a fruitful life.
We must not all be strict; so generation
Would lose her right. Thou’rt young; ’tis my desire
To see thee bestowed happily in my lifetime.
LACTANTIO
Does your grace well remember who I am
When you speak this?
LORD CARDINAL Yes, very perfectly;
You’re a young man, full in the grace of life,
And made to do love credit; proper, handsome,
And for affection pregnant.
LACTANTIO
I beseech you, sir,
Take off your praises rather than bestow ‘em
Upon so frail a use. Alas, you know, sir,
I know not what love is, or what you speak of.
If woman be amongst it, I shall swoon. Take her away,
For contemplation’s sake. Most serious uncle,
Name no such thing to me.
LORD CARDINAL Come, come, you’re fond.
Prove but so strict and obstinate in age,
And you are well to pass. There’s honest love
Allowed you now for recreation.
The years will come when all delights must leave you;
Stick close to virtue then. In the mean time
There’s honourable joys to keep youth company;
And if death take you there, dying no adulterer,
You’re out of his eternal reach, defy him.
List hither, come to me, and with great thankfulness
Welcome thy fortunes. ’Tis the Duchess loves thee.
LACTANTIO
The Duchess!
LORD CARDINAL
Dotes on thee, will die for thee
Unless she may enjoy thee.
LACTANTIO
She must die then.
LORD CARDINAL HOW?
LACTANTIO
Alas, do you think she ever means to do’t, sir?
I’ll sooner believe all a woman speaks
Than that she’ll die for love. She has a vow, my lord,
That will keep life in her.
LORD CARDINAL Believe me, then,
That should have bounteous interest in thy faith,
She’s thine, and not her vow’s.
LACTANTIO
The more my sorrow,
My toil, and my destruction. [Aside] My blood dances.
LORD CARDINAL
And though that bashful maiden virtue in thee,
That never held familiar league with woman,
Binds fast all pity to her heart that loves thee,
Let me prevail. My counsel stands up to thee;
Embrace it as the fullness of thy fortunes,
As if all blessings upon earth were closed
Within one happiness; for such another
Whole life could never meet with. Go and present
Your service and your love; but, on your hopes,
Do it religiously. [Aside] What need I doubt him,
Whom chastity locks up?
LACTANTIO
[aside] O envy,
Hadst thou no other means to come by virtue
But by such treachery? The Duchess’ love! Thou wouldst be sure to aim it high enough;
Thou knew’st full well ’twas no prevailing else. —
Sir, what your will commands, mine shall fulfil,
I’ll teach my heart in all t’obey your will.
LORD CARDINAL
A thing you shall not lose by.
Enter Lords
Here come the lords.
Go follow you the course that I advised you.
The comfort of thy presence is expected.
Away with speed to court; she languishes
For one dear sight of thee. For life’s sake, haste.
You lose my favour if you let her perish.
LACTANTIO
[aside]
And art thou come, brave fortune, the reward
Of neat hypocrisy, that ever booked it,
Or turned up transitory white o’th’ eye
After the feminine rapture? Duchess and I
Were a lit match can be denied of no man:
The best dissembler lights on the best woman.
‘Twere sin to part us. Exit
LORD CARDINAL
You lights of state, truth’s friends, much honoured lords,
Faithful admirers of our Duchess’ virtues,
And firm believers: it appears as plain
As knowledge to the eyes of industry
That neither private motion, which holds counsel
Often with woman’s frailty and her blood,
Nor public sight, the lightning of temptations
Which from the eye strikes sparks into the bosom
And sets whole hearts on fire, hath power to raise
A heat in her ‘bove that which feeds chaste life
And gives that cherishing means. She’s the same still,
And seems so seriously employed in soul
As if she could not tend to cast an eye
Upon deserts so low as those in man.
It merits famous memory, I confess.
Yet many times, when I behold her youth
And think upon the lost hopes of posterity,
Succession, and the royal fruits of beauty,
All by the rashness of one vow made desperate,
It goes so near my heart I feel it painful,
And wakes me into pity oftentimes,
When others sleep unmoved.
FIRST LORD
I speak it faithfully,
For ’tis poor fame to boast of a disease:
Your grace has not endured that pain alone;
‘T ‘as been a grief of mine; but where’s the remedy?
LORD CARDINAL
True, there your lordship spake enough in little.
There’s nothing to be hoped for but repulses.
She’s not to seek for armour against love
That has bid battle to his powers so long.
He that should try her now had need come strong,
And with more force than his own arguments,
Or he may part disgraced, being put to flight.
That soldier’s tough has been in seven years’ fight;
Her vow’s invincible. For you must grant this:
If those desires trained up in flesh and blood
To war continually ‘gainst good intents
Prove all too weak for her, having advantage
Both of her sex and her unskilfulness
At a spiritual weapon, wanting knowledge
To manage resolution, and yet win,
What force can a poor argument bring in?
The books that I have published in her praise
Commend her constancy, and that’s fame-worthy;
But if you read me o’er with eyes of enemies,
You cannot justly and with honour tax me
That I dissuade her life from marriage there.
Now heaven and fruitfulness forbid, not I.
She may be constant there; and the hard war
Of chastity is held a virtuous strife
As rare in marriage as in single life,
Nay, by some writers, rarer. Hear their reasons,
And you’ll approve ‘em fairly. She that’s single,
Either in maid or widow, oftentimes
The fear of shame more than the fear of heaven
Keeps chaste and constant. When the tempest comes
She knows she has no shelter for her sin;
It must endure the weathers of all censure.
Nothing but sea and air that poor barque feels;
When she in wedlock is like a safe vessel
That lies at anchor. Come what weathers can,
She has her harbour. At her great unlading
Much may be stol’n, and little missed; the master
Thinks himself rich enough with what he has,
And holds content by that. How think you now, lords?
If she that might offend safe does not err,
What’s chaste in others is most rare in her.
SECOND LORD
What wisdom but approves it?
FIRST LORD But, my lord,
This should be told to her it concerns most;
Pity such good things should be spoke and lost.
LORD CARDINAL
That were the way to lose ‘em utterly.
You quite forget her vow. Yet, now I think on’t,
What is that vow. ’Twas but a thing enforced,
Was it not, lords?
FIRST LORD
Merely compelled, indeed.
LORD CARDINAL
Only to please the Duke; and forced virtue
Fails in her merit, there’s no crown prepared for’t.
What have we done, my lords? I fear we have sinned
In too much strictness to uphold her in’t,
In cherishing her will; for woman’s goodness
Takes counsel of that first, and then determines.
She cannot truly be called constant now
If she persevere; rather obstinate,
The vow appearing forced, as it proves
Tried by our purer thoughts. The grace and triumph
Of all her victories are but idle glories,
She wilful, and we enemies to succession.
I will not take rest till I tell her soul
As freely as I talk to those I keep.
ALL LORDS
And we’ll all second you, my lord.
LORD CARDINAL Agreed.
We’ll knit such knots of arguments so fast
All wit in her shall not undo in haste.
SECOND LORD
Nay, sure, I think all we shall be too hard for her,
Else she’s a huge wild creature.
FIRST LORD [aside] If we win
And she yield marriage, then will I strike in. Exeunt
Enter Duchess and Celia
DUCHESS
Thou tell’st me happy things, if they be certain,
To bring my wishes about wondrous strangely.
Lactantio, nephew to the Cardinal,
The General’s secret enemy?
CELIA
Most true, madam.
I had it from a gentleman, my kinsman,
That knows the best part of Lactantio’s bosom.
DUCHESS
It happens passing fortunately, to save
Employment in another. He will ‘come now
A necessary property. He may thank
The need and use we have of him for his welcome.
Knocks within
Now who’s that knocks?
CELIA
Madam, ’tis he, with speed.
I thought he had brought his horse to th’ chamber door,
He made such haste and noise.
DUCHESS
Admit him, prithee,
And have a care your heart be true and secret.
CELIA
Take life away from’t when it fails you, madam.
DUCHESS
Enough, I know thee wise. Exit [Celia]
Enter Lactantio, [hastily]
He comes with haste indeed. — Are you come now, sir?
You should have stayed yet longer, and have found me
Dead, to requite your haste.
LACTANTIO
Love bless you better, madam.
DUCHESS
Must I bid welcome to the man undoes me,
The cause of my vow’s breach, my honour’s enemy,
One that does all the mischief to my fame,
And mocks my seven years’ conquest with his name?
This is a force of love was never felt.
But I’ll not grudge at fortune; I will take
Captivity cheerfully. Here, seize upon me;
And if thy heart can be so pitiless
To chain me up for ever in those arms,
I’ll take it mildly, ay, and thank my stars;
For we’re all subject to the chance of wars.
LACTANTIO
We are so, yet take comfort, vanquished Duchess.
I’ll use you like an honourable prisoner;
You shall be entreated. Day shall be
Free for all sports to you, the night for me.
That’s all I challenge, all the rest is thine;
And, for your fare, ‘t shall be no worse than mine.
DUCHESS
Nay, then I’m heartily pleasant, and as merry
As one that owes no malice, and that’s well, sir.
You cannot say so much for your part, can you?
LACTANTIO
Faith, all that I owe is to one man, madam,
And so can few men say. Marry, that malice
Wears no dead flesh about it, ’tis a stinger.
DUCHESS
What is he that shall dare to be your enemy,
Having our friendship, if he be a servant
And subject to our law?
LACTANTIO
Yes, trust me, madam.
Of a vile fellow, I hold him a true subject.
There’s many arrant knaves that are good subjects,
Some for their livings’ sakes, some for their lives’,
That will, unseen, eat men, and drink their wives.
DUCHESS
They are as much in fault that know such people
And yet conceal ‘em from the whips of justice.
For love’s sake give me in your foe betimes,
Before he vex you further. I will order him
To your heart’s wishes, load him with disgraces,
That your revenge shall rather pity him
Than wish more weight upon him.
LACTANTIO
Say you so, madam?
[Aside] Here’s a blest hour, that feeds both love and hate;
Then take thy time, brave malice. — Virtuous princess,
The only enemy that my vengeance points to
Lives in Andrugio.
DUCHESS
What, the General?
LACTANTIO
That’s the man, madam.
DUCHESS
Are you serious, sir?
LACTANTIO
As at my prayers.
DUCHESS
We meet happily, then,
In both our wishes. He’s the only man
My will has had a longing to disgrace,
For divers capital contempts. My memory
Shall call ‘em all together now. Nay, sir,
I’ll bring his faith in war now into question,
And his late conference with th’enemy.
LACTANTIO
By’r Lady, a shrewd business, and a dangerous.
[Aside] Signor, your neck’s a-cracking.
DUCHESS
Stay, stay, sir.
Take pen and ink.
LACTANTIO
Here’s both, and paper, madam.
DUCHESS
I’ll take him in a fine trap.
LACTANTIO
That were exc’llent.
DUCHESS
A letter so writ would abuse him strangely.
LACTANTIO
Good madam, let me understand your mind,
And then take you no care for his abusing;
I serve for nothing else. I can write fast and fair
Most true orthography, and observe my stops.
DUCHESS
Stay, stay a while,
You do not know his hand?
LACTANTIO
A bastard Roman,
Much like mine own. I could go near it, madam.
DUCHESS
Marry, and shall.
LACTANTIO
We were once great together,
And writ Spanish epistles one to another,
To exercise the language.
DUCHESS
Did you so?
It shall be a bold letter of temptation
With his name to’t, as writ and sent to me.
LACTANTIO
Can be no better, lady. Stick there, madam,
And never seek further.
DUCHESS
Begin thus: ‘Fair Duchess’, say.
We must use flattery if we imitate man;
‘Twill ne’er be thought his pen else.
LACTANTIO
‘Most fair Duchess’.
DUCHESS
What need you have put in ‘most’? Yet since ’tis in,
Left e’en go on. Few women would find fault with’t.
We all love to be best, but seldom mend.
Go on, sir.
LACTANTIO
‘Most fair Duchess!’ Here’s an admiration point.
DUCHESS
‘The report of your vow shall not fear me—’
LACTANTIO
‘Fear me:’ — two stops at ‘fear me’.
DUCHESS
‘I know you’re but a woman—’
LACTANTIO
‘But a woman,’ —
A comma at ‘woman’.
DUCHESS
‘And what a woman is a wise man knows.’
LACTANTIO
‘Wise man knows.’ — A full prick there.
DUCHESS
‘Perhaps my condition may seem blunt to you—’
LACTANTIO
‘Blunt to you,’ — a comma here again.
DUCHESS
‘But no man’s love can be more sharp set—’
LACTANTIO
‘Sharp set:’
There a colon, for colon is sharp set oftentimes.
DUCHESS
‘And I know
Desires in both sexes have skill at that weapon.’
LACTANTIO
‘Skill at that weapon.’ — A full prick here, at ‘weapon’.
DUCHESS
So, that will be enough. Subscribe it thus, now:
‘One that vows service
To your affections, Signor such-a-one’.
LACTANTIO
‘Signor Andrugio, G.’. That stands for ‘General’.
DUCHESS
[aside]
And you shall stand for goosecap. — Give me that;
Betake you to your business speedily, sir.
We give you full authority from our person,
In right of reputation, truth, and honour,
To take a strong guard, and attach his body;
That done, to bring him presently before us.
Then we know what to do.
LACTANTIO
My hate finds wings.
Man’s spirit flies swift to all revengeful things. Exit
DUCHESS
Why, here’s the happiness of my desires,
The means safe, unsuspected, far from thought.
His state is like the world’s condition right,
Greedy of gain, either by fraud or stealth;
And whilst one toils, another gets the wealth. Exit
Finis Actus Tertius