Fernando’s house
Enter Sebastian [disguised] and Fernando.
SEBASTIAN
If ever you knew force of love in life, sir,
Give to mine pity.
FERNANDO
You do ill to doubt me.
SEBASTIAN
I could make bold with no friend seemlier
Than with yourself because you were in presence
At our vow-making.
FERNANDO
I am a witness to’t.
SEBASTIAN
Then you best understand of all men living
This is no wrong I offer, no abuse
Either to faith or friendship, for we are register’d
Husband and wife in heaven; though there wants that
Which often keeps licentious [men] in awe
From starting from their wedlocks, the knot public.
’Tis in our souls knit fast, and how more precious
The soul is than the body, so much judge
The sacred and celestial tie within us
More than the outward form, which calls but witness
Here upon earth to what is done in heaven,
Though I must needs confess, the least is honourable,
As an ambassador sent from a king
Has honour by the employment, yet there’s greater
Dwells in the king that sent him; so in this.
Enter Florida.
FERNANDO
I approve all you speak, and will appear to you
A faithful, pitying friend.
SEBASTIAN
Look, there is she, sir,
One good for nothing but to make use of,
And I’m constrained to employ her to make all things
Plain, easy, and probable; for when she comes
And finds one here that claims him, as I have taught
Both this to do’t and he to compound with her,
‘Twill stir belief the more of such a business.
FERNANDO
I praise the carriage well.
SEBASTIAN
Hark you, sweet mistress,
I shall do you a simple turn in this:
For she disgrac’d thus, you are up in favour
Forever with her husband.
FLORIDA
That’s my hope, sir;
I would not take the pains else. Have you the keys
Of the garden-side that I may get betimes in
Closely, and take her lodging?
SEBASTIAN
Yes, I have thought upon you;
Here be the keys.
[He gives her the keys.]
FLORIDA
Marry, and thanks, sweet sir;
Set me a-work so still.
SEBASTIAN
[Aside] Your joys are false ones:
You’re like to lie alone; you’ll be deceiv’d
Of the bedfellow you look for, else my purpose
Were in an ill case. He’s on his forthnight’s journey.
You’ll find cold comfort there: a dream will be
Even the best market you can make tonight. —
She’ll not be long now; you may lose no time neither:
If she but take you at the door, ’tis enough.
When a suspect doth catch once, it burns mainly.
There may you end your business, and as cunningly
As if you were i’ th’ chamber, if you please,
To use but the same art.
FLORIDA
What need you urge that
Which comes so naturally I cannot miss on’t?
What makes the devil so greedy of a soul
But ‘cause h’as lost his own, to all joys lost?
So ’tis our trade to set snares for other women
‘Cause we were once caught ourselves.
[Exit.]
SEBASTIAN
A sweet allusion!
Hell and a whore it seems are partners then
In one ambition. Yet thou’rt here deceiv’d now;
Thou canst set none to hurt, or wrong her honour:
It rather makes it perfect. Best of friends
That ever love’s extremities were bless’d with,
I feel mine arms with thee, and call my peace
The offspring of thy friendship. I will think
This night my wedding night, and with a joy
As reverend, as religion can make man’s,
I will embrace this blessing: honest actions
Are laws unto themselves, and that good fear
Which is on others forc’d grows kindly there.
[Knocking within]
FERNANDO
Hark, hark! One knocks; away, sir, ’tis she certainly.
It sounds much like a woman’s jealous ‘larum.
[Exit Sebastian.] Enter Isabella.
ISABELLA
By your leave, sir.
FERNANDO
Y’are welcome, gentlewoman.
ISABELLA
[Aside] Our ladyship, then, stands us in no stead now. —
One word in private, sir. [Whispers to him.]
FERNANDO
No, surely, forsooth,
There is no such here, y’have mistook the house.
ISABELLA
Oh, sir, that have I not: excuse me there,
I come not with such ignorance. Think not so, sir.
’Twas told me at the ent’ring of your house here
By one that knows him too well.
FERNANDO
Who should that be?
ISABELLA
Nay, sir, betraying is not my profession.
But here I know he is, and I presume
He would give me admittance, if he knew on’t,
As one on’s nearest friends.
FERNANDO
Y’are not his wife, forsooth?
ISABELLA
Yes, by my faith, am I.
FERNANDO
Cry you mercy then, lady.
ISABELLA
[Aside] She goes here by the name on’s wife: good stuff!
But the bold strumpet never told me that.
FERNANDO
We are so oft deceiv’d that let out lodgings,
We know not whom to trust: ’tis such a world,
There are so many odd tricks now-a-days
Put upon housekeepers.
ISABELLA
Why? Do you think I’ld wrong
You or the reputation of your house?
Pray show me the way to him.
FERNANDO
He’s asleep, lady,
The curtains drawn about him.
ISABELLA
Well, well, sir,
I’ll have that care, I’ll not disease him much.
Tread you but lightly. [Aside] Oh, of what gross falsehood
Is man’s heart made of! Had my first love liv’d
And return’d safe, he would have been a light
To all men’s actions, his faith shin’d so bright.
Exeunt. Enter Sebastian [disguised].
SEBASTIAN
I cannot so deceive her, ‘twere too sinful;
There’s more religion in my love than so.
It is not treacherous lust that gives content
T’an honest mind: and this could prove no better.
Were it in me a part of manly justice,
That have sought strange, hard means to keep her chaste
To her first vow, and I t’abuse her first?
Better I never knew what comfort were
In woman’s love than wickedly to know it.
What could the falsehood of one night avail him
That must enjoy forever, or he’s lost?
’Tis the way rather to draw hate upon me,
For, known, ’tis as impossible she should love me,
As youth in health to dote upon a grief,
Or one that’s robb’d and bound t’affect the thief.
No, he that would soul’s sacred comfort win
Must burn in pure love like a seraphin.
Enter Isabella.
ISABELLA
Celio?
SEBASTIAN
Sweet madam.
ISABELLA
Thou hast deluded me:
There’s nobody.
SEBASTIAN
How? I wonder he would miss, madam,
Having appointed, too; ‘twere a strange goodness
If heaven should turn his heart now by the way.
ISABELLA
Oh, never, Celio.
SEBASTIAN
Yes, I ha’ known the like.
Man is not at his own disposing, madam;
The bless’d powers have provided the better for him,
Or he were miserable: he may come yet;
’Tis early, madam. If you would be pleas’d
To embrace my counsel, you should see this night over,
Since y’have bestowed [these] pains.
ISABELLA
I intend so.
SEBASTIAN
[Aside] That strumpet would be found, else she should go.
I curse the time now I did ev’r make use
Of such a plague: sin knows not what it does.
Exeunt.