Enter ALONZO and DE FLORES. (In the act-time DE FLORES hides a naked rapier.)
DE FLORES. Yes, here are all the keys; I was afraid, my lord,
I’d wanted for the postern, this is it.
I’ve all, I’ve all, my lord: this for the sconce.
ALONZO. ’Tis a most spacious and impregnable fort.
DE FLORES. You’ll tell me more, my lord: this descent
Is somewhat narrow, we shall never pass
Well with our weapons, they’ll but trouble us.
ALONZO. Thou say’st true.
DE FLORES. |
Pray let me help your lordship. |
ALONZO. ’Tis done. Thanks, kind De Flores.
DE FLORES. |
Here are hooks, my lord, |
To hang such things on purpose.
[Hangs up the swords.]
ALONZO. |
Lead, I’ll follow thee. |
Exeunt at one door and enter at the other.
DE FLORES. All this is nothing; you shall see anon
A place you little dream on.
ALONZO. |
I am glad |
I have this leisure: all your master’s house
Imagine I ha’ taken a gondola.
DE FLORES. All but myself, sir, [Aside.] which makes up my safety.
My lord, I’ll place you at a casement here
Will show you the full strength of all the castle.
Look, spend your eye awhile upon that object.
ALONZO. Here’s rich variety, De Flores.
DE FLORES. |
Yes, sir. |
ALONZO. Goodly munition.
DE FLORES. |
Ay, there’s ordnance, sir, |
No bastard metal, will ring you a peal like bells
At great men’s funerals; keep your eye straight, my lord,
Take special notice of that sconce before you,
There you may dwell awhile.
ALONZO. |
I am upon’t. |
DE FLORES. And so am I.
[Stabs him with the hidden rapier.]
ALONZO. |
De Flores! O De Flores, |
Whose malice hast thou put on?
DE FLORES. |
Do you question |
A work of secrecy? I must silence you.
[Stabs him.]
DE FLORES. |
I must silence you. |
[Stabs him.]
So, here’s an undertaking well accomplish’d.
This vault serves to good use now. Ha! what’s that
Threw sparkles in my eye? O ’tis a diamond
He wears upon his finger: it was well found,
This will approve the work. What, so fast on?
Not part in death? I’ll take a speedy course then,
Finger and all shall off. [Cuts off the finger.] So, now I’ll clear
The passages from all suspect or fear.
Exit with body.
Enter ISABELLA and LOLLIO.
ISABELLA. Why, sirrah? Whence have you commission
To fetter the doors against me?
If you keep me in a cage, pray whistle to me,
Let me be doing something.
LOLLIO. You shall be doing, if it please you; I’ll whistle to you if you’ll pipe after.
ISABELLA. Is it your master’s pleasure, or your own, To keep me in this pinfold?
LOLLIO. ’Tis for my master’s pleasure, lest being taken in another man’s corn, you might be pounded in another place.
ISABELLA. ’Tis very well, and he’ll prove very wise.
LOLLIO. He says you have company enough in the house, if you please to be sociable, of all sorts of people.
ISABELLA. Of all sorts? Why, here’s none but fools and madmen.
LOLLIO. Very well: and where will you find any other, if you should go abroad? There’s my master and I to boot too.
ISABELLA. Of either sort one, a madman and a fool.
LOLLIO. I would ev’n participate of both then, if I were as you; I know y’are half mad already, be half foolish too.
ISABELLA. Y’are a brave saucy rascal! Come on, sir,
Afford me then the pleasure of your bedlam;
You were commending once today to me
Your last-come lunatic, what a proper
Body there was without brains to guide it,
And what a pitiful delight appear’d
In that defect, as if your wisdom had found
A mirth in madness; pray, sir, let me partake,
If there be such a pleasure.
LOLLIO. If I do not show you the handsomest, discreetest madman, one that I may call the understanding madman, then say I am a fool.
ISABELLA. Well, a match, I will say so.
LOLLIO. When you have a taste of the madman, you shall, if you please, see Fools’ College, o’th’side; I seldom lock there, ’tis but shooting a bolt or two, and you are amongst ’em.
Exit.
Enter presently.
Come on, sir, let me see how handsomely you’ll behave yourself now.
Enter FRANCISCUS.
FRANCISCUS. How sweetly she looks! O but there’s a wrinkle in her brow as deep as philosophy; Anacreon, drink to my mistress’s health, I’ll pledge it: stay, stay, there’s a spider in the cup! No, ’tis but a grapestone, swallow it, fear nothing, poet; so, so, lift higher.
ISABELLA. Alack, alack, ’tis too full of pity
To be laugh’d at; how fell he mad? Canst thou tell?
LOLLIO. For love, mistress: he was a pretty poet too, and that set him forwards first; the Muses then forsook him, he ran mad for a chambermaid, yet she was but a dwarf neither.
FRANCISCUS. Hail, bright Titania!
Why stand’st thou idle on these flow’ry banks?
Oberon is dancing with his Dryades;
I’ll gather daisies, primrose, violets,
And bind them in a verse of poesy.
LOLLIO. Not too near; you see your danger.
[Shows the whip.]
FRANCISCUS. O hold thy hand, great Diomed,
Thou feed’st thy horses well, they shall obey thee;
Get up, Bucephalus kneels.
[Kneels.]
LOLLIO. You see how I awe my flock; a shepherd has not his dog at more obedience.
ISABELLA. His conscience is unquiet, sure that was The cause of this. A proper gentleman.
FRANCISCUS. Come hither, Esculapius; hide the poison.
[LOLLIO hides his whip.]
LOLLIO. Well, ’tis hid.
FRANCISCUS. Didst thou never hear of one Tiresias, a famous poet?
LOLLIO. Yes, that kept tame wild-geese.
FRANCISCUS. That’s he; I am the man.
LOLLIO. No!
FRANCISCUS. Yes, but make no words on’t, I was a man seven years ago.
LOLLIO. A stripling I think you might.
FRANCISCUS. Now I’m a woman, all feminine.
LOLLIO. I would I might see that.
FRANCISCUS. Juno struck me blind.
LOLLIO. I’ll ne’er believe that; for a woman, they say, has an eye more than a man.
FRANCISCUS. I say she struck me blind.
LOLLIO. And Luna made you mad; you have two trades to beg with.
FRANCISCUS. Luna is now big-bellied, and there’s room
For both of us to ride with Hecate;
I’ll drag thee up into her silver sphere,
And there we’ll kick the dog, and beat the bush,
That barks against the witches of the night:
The swift lycanthropi that walks the round,
We’ll tear their wolvish skins and save the sheep.
LOLLIO. Is’t come to this? Nay, then my poison comes forth again. [Flourishes whip.] Mad slave, indeed, abuse your keeper!
ISABELLA. I prithee hence with him, now he grows dangerous.
FRANCISCUS (sings).
Sweet love, pity me,
Give me leave to lie with thee.
LOLLIO. No, I’ll see you wiser first: to your own kennel.
FRANCISCUS. No noise, she sleeps, draw all the curtains round;
Let no soft sound molest the pretty soul
But love, and love creeps in at a mouse-hole.
LOLLIO. I would you would get into your hole.
Exit FRANCISCUS.
Now, mistress, I will bring you another sort, you shall be fool’d another while; Tony, come hither Tony; look who’s yonder, Tony.
Enter ANTONIO.
ANTONIO. Cousin, is it not my aunt?
LOLLIO. Yes, ’tis one of ’em, Tony.
ANTONIO. He, he! How do you, uncle?
LOLLIO. Fear him not mistress, ’tis a gentle nigget; you may play with him, as safely with him as with his bauble.
ISABELLA. How long hast thou been a fool?
ANTONIO. Ever since I came hither, cousin.
ISABELLA. Cousin? I’m none of thy cousins, fool.
LOLLIO. O mistress, fools have always so much wit as to claim their kindred.
MADMAN (within). Bounce, bounce, he falls, he falls!
ISABELLA. Hark you, your scholars in the upper room are out of order.
LOLLIO [shouts]. Must I come amongst you there? – Keep you the fool, mistress; I’ll go up and play left-handed Orlando amongst the madmen.
Exit.
ISABELLA. Well, sir.
ANTONIO. ’Tis opportuneful now, sweet lady! Nay, Cast no amazing eye upon this change.
ISABELLA. Ha!
ANTONIO. This shape of folly shrouds your dearest love,
The truest servant to your powerful beauties,
Whose magic had this force thus to transform me.
ISABELLA. You are a fine fool indeed.
ANTONIO. |
O ’tis not strange: |
Love has an intellect that runs through all
The scrutinous sciences, and like
A cunning poet, catches a quantity
Of every knowledge, yet brings all home
Into one mystery, into one secret
That he proceeds in.
ISABELLA. |
Y’are a parlous fool. |
ANTONIO. No danger in me: I bring nought but love
And his soft-wounding shafts to strike you with:
Try but one arrow; if it hurt you,
I’ll stand you twenty back in recompense.
ISABELLA. A forward fool too!
ANTONIO. |
This was love’s teaching: |
A thousand ways he fashion’d out my way,
And this I found the safest and nearest
To tread the Galaxia to my star.
ISABELLA. Profound, withal! Certain, you dream’d of this;
Love never taught it waking.
ANTONIO. |
Take no acquaintance |
Of these outward follies; there is within
A gentleman that loves you.
ISABELLA. |
When I see him |
I’ll speak with him; so in the meantime keep
Your habit, it becomes you well enough.
As you are a gentleman, I’ll not discover you;
That’s all the favour that you must expect:
When you are weary, you may leave the school,
For all this while you have but play’d the fool.
Enter LOLLIO.
ANTONIO [aside]. And must again; he, he! I thank you, cousin;
I’ll be your valentine tomorrow morning.
LOLLIO. How do you like the fool, mistress?
ISABELLA. Passing well, sir.
LOLLIO. Is he not witty, pretty well for a fool?
ISABELLA. If he hold on as he begins, he is like to come to something.
LOLLIO. Ay, thank a good tutor: you may put him to’t; he begins to answer pretty hard questions. Tony, how many is five times six?
ANTONIO. Five times six, is six times five.
LOLLIO. What arithmetician could have answer’d better? How many is one hundred and seven?
ANTONIO. One hundred and seven, is seven hundred and one, cousin.
LOLLIO. This is no wit to speak on; will you be rid of the fool now?
ISABELLA. By no means, let him stay a little.
MADMAN (within). Catch there, catch the last couple in hell!
LOLLIO [shouts]. Again? Must I come amongst you? Would my master were come home! I am not able to govern both these wards together.
Exit.
ANTONIO. Why should a minute of love’s hour be lost?
ISABELLA. Fie, out again’ I had rather you kept
Your other posture: you become not your tongue
When you speak from your clothes.
ANTONIO. |
How can he freeze, |
Lives near so sweet a warmth? Shall I alone
Walk through the orchard of the Hesperides
And cowardly not dare to pull an apple?
This with the red cheeks I must venture for.
Enter LOLLIO above.
ISABELLA. Take heed, there’s giants keep ’em.
LOLLIO [aside]. How now, fool, are you good at that? Have you read Lipsius? He’s past Ars Amandi; I believe I must put harder questions to him, I perceive that.
ISABELLA. You are bold without fear too.
ANTONIO. |
What should I fear, |
Having all joys about me? Do you smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again:
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold mine own deformity
And dress myself up fairer; I know this shape
Becomes me not, but in those bright mirrors
I shall array me handsomely.
LOLLIO [aside]. |
Cuckoo, cuckoo! |
Exit.
[Enter] MADMEN above, some as birds, others as beasts.
ANTONIO. What are these?
ISABELLA. |
Of fear enough to part us; |
Yet are they but our schools of lunatics,
That act their fantasies in any shapes
Suiting their present thoughts; if sad, they cry;
If mirth be their conceit, they laugh again.
Sometimes they imitate the beasts and birds,
Singing, or howling, braying, barking; all
As their wild fancies prompt ’em.
Enter LOLLIO.
ANTONIO. |
These are no fears. |
ISABELLA. But here’s a large one, my man.
ANTONIO. Ha, he! That’s fine sport indeed, cousin.
LOLLIO. I would my master were come home, ’tis too much for one shepherd to govern two of these flocks; nor can I believe that one churchman can instruct two benefices at once; there will be some incurable mad of the one side, and very fools on the other. Come, Tony.
ANTONIO. Prithee, cousin, let me stay here still.
LOLLIO. No, you must to your book now you have play’d sufficiently.
ISABELLA. Your fool is grown wondrous witty.
LOLLIO. Well, I’ll say nothing; but I do not think but he will put you down one of these days.
Exeunt LOLLIO and ANTONIO.
ISABELLA. Here the restrained current might make breach,
Spite of the watchful bankers; would a woman stray,
She need not gad abroad to seek her sin,
It would be brought home one ways or other:
The needle’s point will to the fixed north,
Such drawing arctics women’s beauties are.
Enter LOLLIO.
LOLLIO. How dost thou, sweet rogue?
ISABELLA. How now?
LOLLIO. Come, there are degrees, one fool may be better than another.
ISABELLA. What’s the matter?
LOLLIO. Nay, if thou giv’st thy mind to fool’s-flesh, have at thee!
[Tries to kiss her.]
ISABELLA. You bold slave, you!
LOLLIO. I could follow now as tother fool did:
‘What should I fear,
Having all joys about me? Do you but smile,
And love shall play the wanton on your lip,
Meet and retire, retire and meet again:
Look you but cheerfully, and in your eyes
I shall behold my own deformity,
And dress myself up fairer; I know this shape
Becomes me not –’
and so as it follows; but is not this the more foolish way?
Come, sweet rogue; kiss me, my little Lacedemonian. Let me feel how thy pulses beat; thou hast a thing about thee would do a man pleasure, I’ll lay my hand on’t.
ISABELLA. Sirrah, no more! I see you have discovered
This love’s knight-errant, who hath made adventure
For purchase of my love; be silent, mute,
Mute as a statue, or his injunction
For me enjoying, shall be to cut thy throat:
I’ll do it, though for no other purpose,
And be sure he’ll not refuse it.
LOLLIO. My share, that’s all; I’ll have my fool’s part with you.
ISABELLA. No more! Your master.
ALIBIUS. |
Sweet, how dost thou? |
ISABELLA. Your bounden servant, sir.
ALIBIUS. |
Fie, fie, sweetheart, |
No more of that.
ISABELLA. |
You were best lock me up. |
ALIBIUS. In my arms and bosom, my sweet Isabella,
I’ll lock thee up most nearly. Lollio,
We have employment, we have task in hand;
At noble Vermandero’s, our castle-captain,
There is a nuptial to be solemniz’d,
Beatrice-Joanna, his fair daughter, bride,
For which the gentleman hath bespoke our pains:
A mixture of our madmen and our fools
To finish, as it were, and make the fag
Of all the revels, the third night from the first;
Only an unexpected passage over,
To make a frightful pleasure, that is all,
But not the all I aim at; could we so act it,
To teach it in a wild distracted measure,
Though out of form and figure, breaking time’s head,
It were no matter, ’twould be heal’d again
In one age or other, if not in this.
This, this, Lollio, there’s a good reward begun,
And will beget a bounty, be it known.
LOLLIO. This is easy, sir, I’ll warrant you: you have about you fools and madmen that can dance very well; and ’tis no wonder, your best dancers are not the wisest men; the reason is, with often jumping they jolt their brains down into their feet, that their wits lie more in their heels than in their heads.
ALIBIUS. Honest Lollio, thou giv’st me a good reason, And a comfort in it.
ISABELLA. |
Y’have a fine trade on’t, |
Madmen and fools are a staple commodity.
ALIBIUS. O wife, we must eat, wear clothes, and live.
Just at the lawyers’ haven we arrive,
By madmen and by fools we both do thrive.
Exeunt.
Enter VERMANDERO, ALSEMERO, JASPERINO, and BEATRICE.
VERMANDERO. Valencia speaks so nobly of you, sir, I wish I had a daughter now for you.
ALSEMERO. The fellow of this creature were a partner For a king’s love.
VERMANDERO. I had her fellow once, sir,
But heaven has married her to joys eternal;
’Twere sin to wish her in this vale again.
Come, sir, your friend and you shall see the pleasures
Which my health chiefly joys in.
ALSEMERO. I hear the beauty of this seat largely.
VERMANDERO. It falls much short of that.
Exeunt. Manet BEATRICE.
BEATRICE. |
So, here’s one step |
Into my father’s favour; time will fix him.
I have got him now the liberty of the house:
So wisdom by degrees works out her freedom;
And if that eye be dark’ned that offends me
(I wait but that eclipse) this gentleman
Shall soon shine glorious in my father’s liking,
Through the refulgent virtue of my love.
Enter DE FLORES.
DE FLORES [aside]. My thoughts are at a banquet for the deed,
I feel no weight in’t, ’tis but light and cheap
For the sweet recompense that I set down for’t.
BEATRICE. De Flores.
DE FLORES. |
Lady. |
BEATRICE. |
Thy looks promise cheerfully. |
DE FLORES. All things are answerable, time, circumstance, Your wishes, and my service.
BEATRICE. |
Is it done then? |
DE FLORES. Piracquo is no more.
BEATRICE. My joys start at mine eyes; our sweet’st delights Are evermore born weeping.
DE FLORES. |
I’ve a token for you. |
BEATRICE. For me?
DE FLORES. |
But it was sent somewhat unwillingly, I could not get the ring without the finger. |
[Shows the severed finger.]
BEATRICE. Bless me! What hast thou done?
Why, is that more |
Than killing the whole man? I cut his heart-strings.
A greedy hand thrust in a dish at court
In a mistake hath had as much as this.
BEATRICE. ’Tis the first token my father made me send him.
DE FLORES. And I made him send it back again
For his last token; I was loath to leave it,
And I’m sure dead men have no use of jewels.
He was as loath to part with’t, for it stuck
As if the flesh and it were both one substance.
BEATRICE. At the stag’s fall the keeper has his fees:
’Tis soon applied, all dead men’s fees are yours, sir;
I pray, bury the finger, but the stone
You may make use on shortly; the true value,
Take’t of my truth, is near three hundred ducats.
DE FLORES. ’Twill hardly buy a capcase for one’s conscience, though,
To keep it from the worm, as fine as ’tis.
Well, being my fees I’ll take it;
Great men have taught me that, or else my merit
Would scorn the way on’t.
BEATRICE. |
It might justly, sir: |
Why, thou mistak’st, De Flores, ’tis not given
In state of recompense.
DE FLORES. |
No, I hope so, lady, |
You should soon witness my contempt to’t then!
BEATRICE. Prithee, thou look’st as if thou wert offended.
DE FLORES. That were strange, lady; ’tis not possible
My service should draw such a cause from you.
Offended? Could you think so? That were much
For one of my performance, and so warm
Yet in my service.
BEATRICE. ’Twere misery in me to give you cause, sir.
DE FLORES. I know so much, it were so, misery In her most sharp condition.
BEATRICE. |
’Tis resolv’d then; |
Look you, sir, here’s three thousand golden florins:
I have not meanly thought upon thy merit.
DE FLORES. What, salary? Now you move me.
BEATRICE. |
How, De Flores? |
DE FLORES. Do you place me in the rank of verminous fellows,
To destroy things for wages? Offer gold?
The life blood of man! Is anything
Valued too precious for my recompense?
BEATRICE. I understand thee not.
DE FLORES. |
I could ha’ hir’d |
A journeyman in murder at this rate,
And mine own conscience might have [slept at ease]
And have had the work brought home.
BEATRICE [aside]. |
I’m in a labyrinth; |
What will content him? I would fain be rid of him.
I’ll double the sum, sir.
DE FLORES. |
You take a course |
To double my vexation, that’s the good you do.
BEATRICE [aside]. Bless me! I am now in worse plight than I was;
I know not what will please him: For my fear’s sake,
I prithee make away with all speed possible.
And if thou be’st so modest not to name
The sum that will content thee, paper blushes not;
Send thy demand in writing, it shall follow thee,
But prithee take thy flight.
DE FLORES. |
You must fly too then. |
BEATRICE. I?
DE FLORES. |
I’ll not stir a foot else. |
BEATRICE. |
What’s your meaning? |
DE FLORES. Why, are not you as guilty, in, I’m sure,
As deep as I? And we should stick together.
Come, your fears counsel you but ill, my absence
Would draw suspect upon you instantly;
There were no rescue for you.
BEATRICE [aside]. |
He speaks home. |
DE FLORES. Nor is it fit we two, engag’d so jointly, Should part and live asunder.
[Tries to kiss her.]
BEATRICE. |
How now, sir? |
This shows not well.
DE FLORES. |
What makes your lip so strange? |
This must not be betwixt us.
BEATRICE [aside]. |
The man talks wildly. |
DE FLORES. Come, kiss me with a zeal now.
BEATRICE [aside]. |
Heaven, I doubt him! |
DE FLORES. I will not stand so long to beg ’em shortly.
BEATRICE. Take heed, De Flores, of forgetfulness, ’Twill soon betray us.
DE FLORES. |
Take you heed first; |
Faith, y’are grown much forgetful, y’are to blame in’t.
BEATRICE [aside]. He’s bold, and I am blam’d for’t!
DE FLORES. |
I have eas’d you |
Of your trouble, think on’t, I’m in pain,
And must be eas’d of you; ’tis a charity,
Justice invites your blood to understand me.
BEATRICE. I dare not.
DE FLORES. |
Quickly! |
BEATRICE. |
O I never shall! |
Speak it yet further off that I may lose
What has been spoken, and no sound remain on’t.
I would not hear so much offence again
For such another deed.
DE FLORES. |
Soft, lady, soft; |
The last is not yet paid for. O this act
Has put me into spirit; I was as greedy on’t
As the parch’d earth of moisture, when the clouds weep.
Did you not mark, I wrought myself into’t,
Nay, sued and kneel’d for’t: why was all that pains took?
You see I have thrown contempt upon your gold,
Not that I want it [not], for I do piteously:
In order I will come unto’t, and make use on’t,
But ’twas not held so precious to begin with;
For I place wealth after the heels of pleasure,
And were I not resolv’d in my belief
That thy virginity were perfect in thee,
I should but take my recompense with grudging,
As if I had but half my hopes I agreed for.
BEATRICE. Why, ’tis impossible thou canst be so wicked,
Or shelter such a cunning cruelty,
To make his death the murderer of my honour!
Thy language is so bold and vicious,
I cannot see which way I can forgive it
With any modesty.
DE FLORES. |
Push, you forget yourself! |
A woman dipp’d in blood, and talk of modesty?
BEATRICE. O misery of sin! Would I had been bound
Perpetually unto my living hate
In that Piracquo, than to hear these words.
Think but upon the distance that creation
Set ’twixt thy blood and mine, and keep thee there.
DE FLORES. Look but into your conscience, read me there,
’Tis a true book, you’ll find me there your equal.
Push! Fly not to your birth, but settle you
In what the act has made you, y’are no more now,
You must forget your parentage to me:
Y’are the deed’s creature; by that name
You lost your first condition, and I challenge you,
As peace and innocency has turn’d you out,
And made you one with me.
BEATRICE. |
With thee, foul villain? |
DE FLORES. Yes, my fair murd’ress; do you urge me?
Though thou writ’st maid, thou whore in thy affection!
’Twas chang’d from thy first love, and that’s a kind
Of whoredom in thy heart; and he’s chang’d now,
To bring thy second on, thy Alsemero,
Whom, by all sweets that ever darkness tasted,
If I enjoy thee not, thou ne’er enjoy’st;
I’ll blast the hopes and joys of marriage,
I’ll confess all; my life I rate at nothing
DE FLORES. I shall rest from all lovers’ plagues then;
I live in pain now: that shooting eye
Will burn my heart to cinders.
BEATRICE. |
O sir, hear me. |
DE FLORES. She that in life and love refuses me,
In death and shame my partner she shall be.
BEATRICE. Stay, hear me once for all; [Kneels.] I make thee master
Of all the wealth I have in gold and jewels:
Let me go poor unto my bed with honour,
And I am rich in all things.
DE FLORES. |
Let this silence thee: |
The wealth of all Valencia shall not buy
My pleasure from me;
Can you weep Fate from its determin’d purpose?
So soon may [you] weep me.
BEATRICE. |
Vengeance begins; |
Murder I see is followed by more sins.
Was my creation in the womb so curs’d,
It must engender with a viper first?
DE FLORES. Come, rise, and shroud your blushes in my bosom;
[Raises her.]
Silence is one of pleasure’s best receipts:
Thy peace is wrought for ever in this yielding.
’Las, how the turtle pants! Thou’lt love anon
What thou so fear’st and faint’st to venture on.
Exeunt.