Every Man in His Humour

by Ben Jonson

ACT V.

SCENE I.
ENTER LORENZO SENIOR.
LOR. SE. Oh, here it is, I am glad I have found it now.
Ho! who is within here?
[ENTER TIB.]
TIB. I am within, sir, what's your pleasure?
LOR. SE. To know who is within besides yourself.
TIB. Why, sir, you are no constable, I hope?
LOR. SE. Oh, fear you the constable? then I doubt not,
You have some guests within deserve that fear;
I'll fetch him straight.
TIB. O' God's name, sir.
LOR. SE. Go to, tell me is not the young Lorenzo here?
TIB. Young Lorenzo, I saw none such, sir, of mine honesty.
LOR. SE. Go to, your honesty flies too lightly from you:
There's no way but fetch the constable.
TIB. The constable, the man is mad, I think.
[CLAPS TO THE DOOR.]
[ENTER PISO AND BIANCHA.]
PISO. Ho, who keeps house here?
LOR. SE. Oh, this is the female copes-mate of my son.
Now shall I meet him straight.
BIA. Knock, Piso, pray thee.
PIS. Ho, good wife.
[ENTER TIB.]
TIB. Why, what's the matter with you?
BIA. Why, woman, grieves it you to ope your door?
Belike you get something to keep it shut.
TIB. What mean these questions, pray ye?
BIA. So strange you make it! is not Thorello, my tried
husband, here?
LOR. SE. Her husband?
TIB. I hope he needs not be tried here.
BIA. No, dame: he doth it not for need but pleasure.
TIB. Neither for need nor pleasure is he here.
LOR. SE. This is but a device to balk me withal;
Soft, who's this?
[ENTER THORELLO.]
BIA. Oh, sir, have I forestall'd your honest market?
Found your close walks? you stand amazed now, do you?
I'faith (I am glad) I have smoked you yet at last;
What's your jewel, trow? In: come, let's see her;
Fetch forth your housewife, dame; if she be fairer
In any honest judgment than myself,
I'll be content with it: but she is change,
She feeds you fat; she soothes your appetite,
And you are well: your wife, an honest woman,
Is meat twice sod to you, sir; Oh, you treachour.
LOR. SE. She cannot counterfeit this palpably.
THO. Out on thee, more than strumpet's impudency,
Steal'st thou thus to thy haunts? and have I taken
Thy bawd and thee, and thy companion,
This hoary-headed letcher, this old goat,
Close at your villainy, and would'st thou 'scuse it,
With this stale harlot's jest, accusing me?
Oh, old incontinent, dost thou not shame,
When all thy powers in chastity are spent,
To have a mind so hot? and to entice
And feed the enticements of a lustful woman?
BIA. Out, I defy thee, I, dissembling wretch?
THO. Defy me, strumpet? ask thy pander here,
Can he deny it? or that wicked elder.
LOR. SE. Why, hear you, Signior?
THO. Tut, tut, never speak,
Thy guilty conscience will discover thee.
LOR. SE. What lunacy is this that haunts this man?
[ENTER GIU.]
GIU. Oh, sister, did you see my cloak?
BIA. Not I, I see none.
GIU. God's life, I have lost it then, saw you Hesperida?
THO. Hesperida? Is she not at home?
GIU. No, she is gone abroad, and nobody can tell me of it
at home.
[EXIT.]
THO. O heaven! abroad? what light! a harlot too!
Why? why? hark you, hath she, hath she not a brother?
A brother's house to keep, to look unto?
But she must fling abroad, my wife hath spoil'd her,
She takes right after her, she does, she does,
Well, you goody bawd and —
[ENTER COB.]
That make your husband such a hoddy-doddy;
And you, young apple squire, and old cuckold-maker,
I'll have you every one before the Doctor,
Nay, you shall answer it, I charge you go.
LOR. SE. Marry, with all my heart, I'll go willingly:
how have I wrong'd myself in coming here.
BIA. Go with thee? I'll go with thee to thy shame,
I warrant thee.
COB. Why, what's the matter? what's here to do?
THO. What, Cob, art thou here? oh, I am abused,
And in thy house, was never man so wrong'd.
COB. 'Slid, in my house? who wrong'd you in my house?
THO. Marry, young lust in old, and old in young here,
Thy wife's their bawd, here have I taken them.
COB. Do you hear? did I not charge you keep your doors shut
here, and do you let them lie open for all comers, do you
scratch?
[COB BEATS HIS WIFE.]
LOR. SE. Friend, have patience; if she have done wrong in
this, let her answer it afore the Magistrate.
COB. Ay, come, you shall go afore the Doctor.
TIB. Nay, I will go, I'll see an you may be allowed to beat
your poor wife thus at every cuckoldly knave's pleasure, the
devil and the pox take you all for me: why do you not go now?
THO. A bitter quean, come, we'll have you tamed.
[EXEUNT.]
[ENTER MUSCO ALONE.]
MUS. Well, of all my disguises yet, now am I most like myself,
being in this varlet's suit, a man of my present profession
never counterfeits till he lay hold upon a debtor, and says he
rests him, for then he brings him to all manner of unrest.
A kind of little kings we are, bearing the diminutive of a
mace, made like a young artichoke, that always carries pepper
and salt in itself, well, I know not what danger I undergo by
this exploit, pray God I come well off.
[ENTER BOBADILLA AND MATHEO.]
MAT. See, I think yonder is the varlet.
BOB. Let's go in quest of him.
MAT. God save you, friend, are not you here by the appointment
of Doctor Clement's man?
MUS. Yes, an't please you, sir; he told me two gentlemen had
will'd him to procure an arrest upon one Signior Giuliano by a
warrant from his master, which I have about me.
MAT. It is honestly done of you both; and see where he comes
you must arrest; upon him, for God's sake, before he be 'ware.
BOB. Bear back, Matheo!
[ENTER STEPHANO.]
MUS. Signior Giuliano, I arrest you, sir, in the Duke's name.
STEP. Signior Giuliano! am I Signior Giuliano? I am one Signior
Stephano, I tell you, and you do not well, by God's lid, to arrest
me, I tell you truly; I am not in your master's books, I would you
should well know; ay, and a plague of God on you for making me
afraid thus.
MUS. Why, how are you deceived, gentlemen?
BOB. He wears such a cloak, and that deceived us,
But see, here a comes, officer, this is he.
[ENTER GIULIANO.]
GIU. Why, how now, signior gull: are you a turn'd filcher of
late? come, deliver my cloak.
STEP. Your cloak, sir? I bought it even now in the market.
MUS. Signior Giuliano, I must arrest you, sir.
GIU. Arrest me, sir, at whose suit?
MUS. At these two gentlemen's.
GIU. I obey thee, varlet; but for these villains —
MUS. Keep the peace, I charge you, sir, in the Duke's name,
sir.
GIU. What's the matter, varlet?
MUS. You must go before master Doctor Clement, sir, to
answer what these gentlemen will object against you, hark
you, sir, I will use you kindly.
MAT. We'll be even with you, sir, come, Signior Bobadilla,
we'll go before and prepare the Doctor: varlet, look to him.
[EXEUNT BOBADILLA AND MATHEO.]
BOB. The varlet is a tall man, by Jesu.
GIU. Away, you rascals, Signior, I shall have my cloak.
STEP. Your cloak? I say once again, I bought it, and I'll
keep it.
GIU. You will keep it?
STEP. Ay, that I will.
GIU. Varlet, stay, here's thy fee, arrest him.
MUS. Signior Stephano, I arrest you.
STEP. Arrest me! there, take your cloak: I'll none of it.
GIU. Nay, that shall not serve your turn, varlet, bring him away,
I'll go with thee now to the Doctor's, and carry him along.
STEP. Why, is not here your cloak? what would you have?
GIU. I care not for that.
MUS. I pray you, sir.
GIU. Never talk of it; I will have him answer it.
MUS. Well, sir, then I'll leave you, I'll take this gentleman's
word for his appearance, as I have done yours.
GIU. Tut, I'll have no words taken, bring him along to answer it.
MUS. Good sir, I pity the gentleman's case, here's your money
again.
GIU. God's bread, tell not me of my money, bring him away,
I say.
MUS. I warrant you, he will go with you of himself.
GIU. Yet more ado?
MUS. I have made a fair mash of it.
STEP. Must I go?
[EXEUNT.]
ENTER DOCTOR CLEMENT, THORELLO, LORENZO SENIOR, BIANCHA,
PISO, TIB, A SERVANT OR TWO OF THE DOCTOR'S.
CLEM. Nay, but stay, stay, give me leave; my chair, sirrah;
you, Signior Lorenzo, say you went thither to meet your son.
LOR. SE. Ay, sir.
CLEM. But who directed you thither?
LOR. SE. That did my man, sir.
CLEM. Where is he?
LOR. SE. Nay, I know not now, I left him with your clerk,
And appointed him to stay here for me.
CLEM. About what time was this?
LOR. SE. Marry, between one and two, as I take it.
CLEM. So, what time came my man with the message to you,
Signior Thorello?
THO. After two, sir.
CLEM. Very good, but, lady, how that you were at Cob's, ha?
BIA. An't please you, sir, I'll tell you: my brother Prospero
told me that Cob's house was a suspected place.
CLEM. So it appears, methinks; but on.
BIA. And that my husband used thither daily.
CLEM. No matter, so he use himself well.
BIA. True, sir, but you know what grows by such haunts
oftentimes.
CLEM. Ay, rank fruits of a jealous brain, lady: but did you
find your husband there in that case, as you suspected?
THO. I found her there, sir.
CLEM. Did you so? that alters the case; who gave you knowledge
of your wife's being there?
THO. Marry, that did my brother Prospero.
CLEM. How, Prospero first tell her, then tell you after?
Where is Prospero?
THO. Gone with my sister, sir, I know not whither.
CLEM. Why, this is a mere trick, a device; you are gulled
in this most grossly: alas, poor wench, wert thou beaten
for this? how now, sirrah, what's the matter?
[ENTER ONE OF THE DOCTOR'S MEN.]
SER. Sir, there's a gentleman in the court without desires
to speak with your worship.
CLEM. A gentleman? what's he?
SER. A soldier, sir, he sayeth.
CLEM. A soldier? fetch me my armour, my sword, quickly; a
soldier speak with me, why, when, knaves? — come on, come on,
hold my cap there, so; give me my gorget, my sword; stand by,
I will end your matters anon; let the soldier enter, now, sir,
what have you to say to me?
[ENTER BOBADILLA AND MATHEO.]
BOB. By your worship's favour.
CLEM. Nay, keep out, sir, I know not your pretence, you
send me word, sir, you are a soldier, why, sir, you shall
be answered here, here be them have been amongst soldiers.
Sir, your pleasure.
BOB. Faith, sir, so it is: this gentleman and myself have
been most violently wronged by one Signior Giuliano: a gallant
of the city here; and for my own part, I protest, being a man
in no sort given to this filthy humour of quarrelling, he hath
assaulted me in the way of my peace, despoiled me of mine
honour, disarmed me of my weapons, and beaten me in the open
streets: when I not so much as once offered to resist him.
CLEM. Oh, God's precious, is this the soldier? here, take my
armour quickly, 'twill make him swoon, I fear; he is not fit
to look on't that will put up a blow.
[ENTER SERVANT.]
MAT. An't please your worship, he was bound to the peace.
CLEM. Why, an he were, sir, his hands were not bound,
were they?
SER. There is one of the varlets of the city has brought two
gentlemen here upon arrest, sir.
CLEM. Bid him come in, set by the picture.
[ENTER MUSCO WITH GIULIANO AND STEPHANO.]
Now, sir, what! Signior Giuliano? is't you that are arrested
at signior freshwater's suit here?
GIU. I'faith, master Doctor, and here's another brought at
my suit.
CLEM. What are you, sir?
STEP. A gentleman, sir; oh, uncle?
CLEM. Uncle? who, Lorenzo?
LOR. SE. Ay, sir.
STEP. God's my witness, my uncle, I am wrong'd here monstrously;
he chargeth me with stealing of his cloak, and would I might
never stir, if I did not find it in the street by chance.
GIU. Oh, did you find it now? you said you bought it erewhile.
STEP. And you said I stole it, nay, now my uncle is here I care
not.
CLEM. Well, let this breathe awhile; you that have cause to
complain there, stand forth; had you a warrant for this arrest?
BOB. Ay, an't please your worship.
CLEM. Nay, do not speak in passion so, where had you it?
BOB. Of your clerk, sir.
CLEM. That's well, an my clerk can make warrants, and my hand
not at them; where is the warrant? varlet, have you it?
MUS. No, sir, your worship's man bid me do it for these
gentlemen, and he would be my discharge.
CLEM. Why, Signior Giuliano, are you such a novice to be
arrested and never see the warrant?
GIU. Why, sir, he did not arrest me.
CLEM. No? how then?
GIU. Marry, sir, he came to me and said he must arrest me,
and he would use me kindly, and so forth.
CLEM. Oh, God's pity, was it so, sir? he must arrest you.
Give me my long sword there; help me off, so; come on, sir
varlet, I must cut off your legs, sirrah; nay, stand up,
I'll use you kindly; I must cut off your legs, I say.
MUS. Oh, good sir, I beseech you, nay, good master Doctor.
Oh, good sir.
CLEM. I must do it; there is no remedy;
I must cut off your legs, sirrah.
I must cut off your ears, you rascal, I must do it;
I must cut off your nose, I must cut off your head.
MUS. Oh, for God's sake, good master Doctor.
CLEM. Well, rise; how dost thou now? dost thou feel thyself
well? hast thou no harm?
MUS. No, I thank God, sir, and your good worship.
CLEM. Why so? I said I must cut off thy legs, and I must cut
off thy arms, and I must cut off thy head; but I did not do it
so: you said you must arrest this gentleman, but you did not
arrest him, you knave, you slave, you rogue, do you say you must
arrest, sirrah? away with him to the jail, I'll teach you a
trick for your must.
MUS. Good master Doctor, I beseech you be good to me.
CLEM. Marry o'God: away with him, I say.
MUS. Nay, 'sblood, before I go to prison, I'll put on my
old brazen face, and disclaim in my vocation: I'll discover,
that's flat, an I be committed, it shall be for the
committing of more villainies than this, hang me an I lose
the least grain of my fame.
CLEM. Why? when, knave? by God's marry, I'll clap thee by
the heels too.
MUS. Hold, hold, I pray you.
CLEM. What's the matter? stay there.
MUS. Faith, sir, afore I go to this house of bondage, I have
a case to unfold to your worship: which (that it may appear
more plain unto your worship's view) I do thus first of all
uncase, and appear in mine own proper nature, servant to this
gentleman: and known by the name of Musco.
LOR. SE. Ha, Musco!
STEP. Oh, uncle, Musco has been with my cousin and I all
this day.
CLEM. Did not I tell you there was some device?
MUS. Nay, good master Doctor, since I have laid myself thus
open to your worship, now stand strong for me, till the progress
of my tale be ended, and then if my wit do not deserve your
countenance, 'slight, throw it on a dog, and let me go hang
myself.
CLEM. Body of me, a merry knave, give me a bowl of sack.
Signior Lorenzo, I bespeak your patience in particular, marry,
your ears in general, here, knave, Doctor Clement drinks to
thee.
MUS. I pledge master Doctor an't were a sea to the bottom.
CLEM. Fill his bowl for that, fill his bowl: so, now speak
freely.
MUS. Indeed, this is it will make a man speak freely. But
to the point, know then that I, Musco, (being somewhat more
trusted of my master than reason required, and knowing his
intent to Florence,) did assume the habit of a poor soldier in
wants, and minding by some means to intercept his journey in
the midway, 'twixt the grange and the city, I encountered him,
where begging of him in the most accomplished and true garb,
(as they term it) contrary to all expectation, he reclaimed me
from that bad course of life; entertained me into his service,
employed me in his business, possest me with his secrets, which
I no sooner had received, but (seeking my young master, and
finding him at this gentleman's house) I revealed all most
amply: this done, by the device of Signior Prospero and him
together, I returned (as the raven did to the ark) to mine old
master again, told him he should find his son in what manner he
knows, at one Cob's house, where indeed he never meant to come;
now my master, he to maintain the jest, went thither, and left
me with your worship's clerk, who, being of a most fine supple
disposition, (as most of your clerks are) proffers me the wine,
which I had the grace to accept very easily, and to the tavern
we went: there after much ceremony, I made him drunk in
kindness, stript him to his shirt, and leaving him in that cool
vein, departed, frolick, courtier-like, having obtained a suit:
which suit fitting me exceedingly well, I put on, and usurping
your man's phrase and action, carried a message to Signior
Thorello in your name; which message was merely devised but to
procure his absence, while Signior Prospero might make a
conveyance of Hesperida to my master.
CLEM. Stay, fill me the bowl again, here; 'twere pity of his
life would not cherish such a spirit: I drink to thee, fill
him wine, why, now do you perceive the trick of it?
THO. Ay, ay, perceive well we were all abused.
LOR. SE. Well, what remedy?
CLEM. Where is Lorenzo and Prospero, canst thou tell?
MUS. Ay, sir, they are at supper at the Mermaid, where I
left your man.
CLEM. Sirrah, go warn them hither presently before me, and
if the hour of your fellow's resurrection be come, bring him
too. But forward, forward, when thou has been at Thorello's.
[EXIT SERVANT.]
MUS. Marry, sir, coming along the street, these two gentlemen
meet me, and very strongly supposing me to be your worship's
scribe, entreated me to procure them a warrant for the arrest
of Signior Giuliano, I promised them, upon some pair of silk
stockings or a jewel, or so, to do it, and to get a varlet of
the city to serve it, which varlet I appointed should meet
them upon the Realto at such an hour, they no sooner gone, but
I, in a mere hope of more gain by Signior Giuliano, went to one
of Satan's old ingles, a broker, and there pawned your man's
livery for a varlet's suit, which here, with myself, I offer
unto your worship's consideration.
CLEM. Well, give me thy hand;
Proh. Superi ingenium magnum quis noscit Homerum.
Illias aeternum si latuisset opus?
I admire thee, I honour thee, and if thy master or any man here
be angry with thee, I shall suspect his wit while I know him
for it: do you hear, Signior Thorello, Signior Lorenzo, and the
rest of my good friends, I pray you let me have peace when they
come, I have sent for the two gallants and Hesperida, God's
marry, I must have you, friends, how now? what noise is there?
[ENTER SERVANT, THEN PETO.]
SER. Sir, it is Peto is come home.
CLEM. Peto, bring him hither, bring him hither, what, how now,
signior drunkard, in arms against me, ha? your reason, your
reason for this.
PET. I beseech your worship to pardon me.
CLEM. Well, sirrah, tell him I do pardon him.
PET. Truly, sir, I did happen into bad company by chance,
and they cast me in a sleep and stript me of all my clothes.
CLEM. Tut, this is not to the purpose touching your armour,
what might your armour signify?
PET. Marry, sir, it hung in the room where they stript me, and
I borrowed it of one of the drawers, now in the evening, to
come home in, because I was loth to come through the street
in my shirt.
[ENTER LORENZO JUNIOR, PROSPERO, HESPERIDA.]
CLEM. Well, disarm him, but it's no matter, let him stand by:
who be these? oh, young gallants; welcome, welcome, and you,
lady, nay, never scatter such amazed looks amongst us,
Qui nil potest sperare desperet nihil.
PROS. Faith, master Doctor, that's even I, my hopes are small,
and my despair shall be as little. Brother, sister, brother,
what, cloudy, cloudy? "and will no sunshine on these looks
appear?" well, since there is such a tempest toward, I'll be
the porpoise, I'll dance: wench, be of good cheer, thou hast a
cloak for the rain yet, where is he? 'Sheart, how now, the
picture of the prodigal, go to, I'll have the calf drest for
you at my charges.
LOR. SE. Well, son Lorenzo, this day's work of yours hath much
deceived my hopes, troubled my peace, and stretch'd my patience
further than became the spirit of duty.
CLEM. Nay, God's pity, Signior Lorenzo, you shall urge it no
more: come, since you are here, I'll have the disposing of all,
but first, Signior Giuliano, at my request take your cloak again.
GIU. Well, sir, I am content.
CLEM. Stay, now let me see, oh signior snow-liver, I had almost
forgotten him, and your Genius there, what, doth he suffer for a
good conscience too? doth he bear his cross with patience?
MUS. Nay, they have scarce one cross between them both to bear.
CLEM. Why, dost thou know him? what is he? what is he?
MUS. Marry, search his pocket, sir, and he'll shew you he is an
author, sir.
CLEM. Dic mihi musa virum: are you an author, sir? give me
leave a little, come on, sir, I'll make verses with you now
in honour of the gods and the goddesses for what you dare
extempore; and now I begin.
"Mount thee my Phlegon muse, and testify,
How Saturn sitting in an ebon cloud,
Disrobed his podex, white as ivory,
And through the welkin thunder'd all aloud."
There's for you, sir.
PROS. Oh, he writes not in that height of style.
CLEM. No: we'll come a step or two lower then.
"From Catadupa and the banks of Nile,
Where only breeds your monstrous crocodile,
Now are we purposed for to fetch our style."
PROS. Oh, too far-fetch'd for him still, master Doctor.
CLEM. Ay, say you so? let's intreat a sight of his vein then.
PROS. Signior, master Doctor desires to see a sight of your
vein, nay, you must not deny him.
CLEM. What, all this verse, body of me, he carries a whole
realm; a commonwealth of paper in his hose, let's see some of
his subjects.
"Unto the boundless ocean of thy beauty,
Runs this poor river, charg'd with streams of zeal,
Returning thee the tribute of my duty:
Which here my youth, my plaints, my love reveal."
Good! is this your own invention?
MAT. No, sir, I translated that out of a book, called
"Delia."
CLEM. Oh, but I would see some of your own, some of your own.
MAT. Sir, here's the beginning of a sonnet I made to my
mistress.
CLEM. That, that: who? to Madonna Hesperida, is she your
mistress?
PROS. It pleaseth him to call her so, sir.
CLEM. "In summer time, when Phoebus' golden rays."
You translated this too, did you not?
PROS. No, this is invention; he found it in a ballad.
MAT. Faith sir, I had most of the conceit of it out of a
ballad indeed.
CLEM. Conceit, fetch me a couple of torches, sirrah,
I may see the conceit: quickly! it's very dark!
GIU. Call you this poetry?
LOR. JU. Poetry? nay, then call blasphemy, religion;
Call devils, angels; and sin, piety:
Let all things be preposterously transchanged.
LOR. SE. Why, how now, son! what are you startled now?
Hath the brize prick'd you, ha? go to; you see
How abjectly your poetry is rank'd in general opinion.
LOR. JU. Opinion, O God, let gross opinion sink and be damn'd
As deep as Barathrum,
If it may stand with your most wish'd content,
I can refell opinion and approve
The state of poesy, such as it is,
Blessed, eternal, and most true divine:
Indeed, if you will look on Poesy
As she appears in many, poor and lame,
Patch'd up in remnants and old worn rags,
Half starved for want of her peculiar food:
Sacred invention, then I must confirm
Both your conceit and censure of her merit,
But view her in her glorious ornaments,
Attired in the majesty of art,
Set high in spirit, with the precious taste
Of sweet philosophy, and which is most,
Crown'd with the rich traditions of a soul
That hates to have her dignity profaned
With any relish of an earthly thought:
Oh, then how proud a presence doth she bear.
Then is she like herself, fit to be seen
Of none but grave and consecrated eyes:
Nor is it any blemish to her fame,
That such lean, ignorant, and blasted wits,
Such brainless gulls, should utter their stol'n wares
With such applauses in our vulgar ears:
Or that their slubber'd lines have current pass
From the fat judgments of the multitude,
But that this barren and infected age
Should set no difference 'twixt these empty spirits
And a true poet: than which reverend name
Nothing can more adorn humanity.
[ENTER WITH TORCHES.]
CLEM. Ay, Lorenzo, but election is now governed altogether by
the influence of humour, which, instead of those holy flames
that should direct and light the soul to eternity, hurls forth
nothing but smoke and congested vapours, that stifle her up, and
bereave her of all sight and motion. But she must have a store
of hellebore given her to purge these gross obstructions: oh,
that's well said, give me thy torch, come, lay this stuff
together. So, give fire! there, see, see, how our poet's glory
shines brighter and brighter, still, still it increaseth, oh,
now it's at the highest, and now it declines as fast: you may
see, gallants, "sic transit gloria mundi." Well now, my two
signior outsides, stand forth, and lend me your large ears, to
a sentence, to a sentence: first, you, Signior, shall this night
to the cage, and so shall you, sir, from thence to-morrow morning,
you, Signior, shall be carried to the market cross, and be there
bound: and so shall you, sir, in a large motley coat, with a rod
at your girdle; and you in an old suit of sackcloth, and the
ashes of your papers (save the ashes, sirrah) shall mourn all day,
and at night both together sing some ballad of repentance very
piteously, which you shall make to the tune of "Who list to lead
and a soldier's life." Sirrah bill-man, embrace you this torch,
and light the gentlemen to their lodgings, and because we tender
their safety, you shall watch them to-night, you are provided for
the purpose, away, and look to your charge with an open eye,
sirrah.
BOB. Well, I am arm'd in soul against the worst of fortune.
MAT. Faith, so should I be, an I had slept on it.
PET. I am arm'd too, but I am not like to sleep on it.
MUS. Oh, how this pleaseth me.
[EXEUNT.]
CLEM. Now, Signior Thorello, Giuliano, Prospero, Biancha.
STEP. And not me, sir.
CLEM. Yes, and you, sir: I had lost a sheep an he had not
bleated, I must have you all friends: but first a word with
you, young gallant, and you, lady.
GIU. Well, brother Prospero, by this good light that shines
here, I am loth to kindle fresh coals, but an you had come in
my walk within these two hours I had given you that you should
not have clawed off again in haste, by Jesus, I had done it, I
am the arrant'st rogue that ever breathed else, but now beshrew
my heart if I bear you any malice in the earth.
PROS. Faith, I did it but to hold up a jest, and help my sister
to a husband, but, brother Thorello, and sister, you have a spice
of the jealous yet, both of you, (in your hose, I mean,) come, do
not dwell upon your anger so much, let's all be smooth foreheaded
once again.
THOR. He plays upon my forehead, brother Giuliano, I pray you
tell me one thing I shall ask you: is my forehead any thing
rougher than it was wont to be?
GIU. Rougher? your forehead is smooth enough, man.
THO. Why should he then say, be smooth foreheaded,
Unless he jested at the smoothness of it?
And that may be, for horn is very smooth;
So are my brows, by Jesu, smooth as horn!
BIA. Brother, had he no haunt thither, in good faith?
PROS. No, upon my soul.
BIA. Nay, then, sweet-heart: nay, I pray thee, be not angry,
good faith, I'll never suspect thee any more, nay, kiss me,
sweet muss.
THO. Tell me, Biancha, do not you play the woman with me.
BIA. What's that, sweet-heart?
THO. Dissemble.
BIA. Dissemble?
THO. Nay, do not turn away: but say i'faith was it not a
match appointed 'twixt this old gentleman and you?
BIA. A match?
THO. Nay, if it were not, I do not care: do not weep, I pray
thee, sweet Biancha, nay, so now! by Jesus, I am not jealous,
but resolved I have the faithful'st wife in Italy.
"For this I find, where jealousy is fed,
Horns in the mind are worse than on the head.
See what a drove of horns fly in the air,
Wing'd with my cleansed and my credulous breath:
Watch them, suspicious eyes, watch where they fall,
See, see, on heads that think they have none at all.
Oh, what a plenteous world of this will come,
When air rains horns, all men be sure of some:
CLEM. Why that's well, come then: what say you, are all
agreed? doth none stand out?
PROS. None but this gentleman: to whom in my own person I owe
all duty and affection; but most seriously intreat pardon, for
whatsoever hath past in these occurrants that might be contrary
to his most desired content.
LOR. SE. Faith sir, it is a virtue that pursues
Any save rude and uncomposed spirits,
To make a fair construction, and indeed
Not to stand off, when such respective means
Invite a general content in all.
CLEM. Well, then I conjure you all here to put off all
discontentment, first, you, Signior Lorenzo, your cares; you,
and you, your jealousy; you, your anger, and you, your wit,
sir; and for a peace-offering, here's one willing to be
sacrificed upon this altar: say, do you approve my motion?
PROS. We do, I'll be mouth for all.
CLEM. Why, then I wish them all joy, and now, to make our
evening happiness more full: this night you shall be all my
guests: where we'll enjoy the very spirit of mirth, and carouse
to the health of this heroic spirit, whom to honour the more I
do invest in my own robes, desiring you two, Giuliano and
Prospero, to be his supporters, the train to follow, myself
will lead, ushered by my page here with this honourable verse —
"Claudite jam rivos pueri sat prata biberunt."

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