ACT THE FIRST.
SCENE I.—In the Grounds of D'Amville's Mansion.
Enter D'Amville, Borachio, and Attendants.
D'Am. I saw my nephew Charlemont but now
Part from his father. Tell him I desire
To speak with him. [Exit Servant.
Borachio, thou art read
In nature and her large philosophy.
Observ'st thou not the very self-same course
Of revolution, both in man and beast?
Bor. The same, for birth, growth, state, decay and death;
Only a man's beholding to his nature
For the better composition o' the two.
D'Am. But where that favour of his nature is
Not full and free, you see a man becomes
A fool, as little-knowing as a beast.
Bor. That shows there's nothing in a man above
His nature; if there were, considering 'tis
His being's excellency, 'twould not yield
To nature's weakness.
D'Am. Then, if Death casts up
Our total sum of joy and happiness,
Let me have all my senses feasted in
The abundant fulness of delight at once,
And, with a sweet insensible increase
Of pleasing surfeit, melt into my dust.
Bor. That revolution is too short, methinks.
If this life comprehends our happiness,
How foolish to desire to die so soon!
And if our time runs home unto the length
Of nature, how improvident it were
To spend our substance on a minute's pleasure,
And after, live an age in misery!
D'Am. So thou conclud'st that pleasure only flows
Upon the stream of riches?
Bor. Wealth is lord
Of all felicity.
D'Am. 'Tis, oracle.
For what's a man that's honest without wealth?
Bor. Both miserable and contemptible.
D'Am. He's worse, Borachio. For if charity
Be an essential part of honesty,
And should be practised first upon ourselves,
Which must be granted, then your honest man
That's poor, is most dishonest, for he is
Uncharitable to the man whom he
Should most respect. But what doth this touch me
That seem to have enough?—thanks industry.
'Tis true, had not my body spread itself
Into posterity, perhaps I should
Desire no more increase of substance, than
Would hold proportion with mine own dimensions.
Yet even in that sufficiency of state,
A man has reason to provide and add.
For what is he hath such a present eye,
And so prepared a strength, that can foresee,
And fortify his substance and himself
Against those accidents, the least whereof
May rob him of an age's husbandry?
And for my children, they are as near to me
As branches to the tree whereon they grow;
And may as numerously be multiplied.
As they increase, so should my providence;
For from my substance they receive the sap,
Whereby they live and flourish.
Bor. Sir, enough.
I understand the mark whereat you aim.
Enter Charlemont.
D'Am. Silence, we are interrupted. Charlemont!
Charl. Good morrow, uncle.
D'Am. Noble Charlemont,
Good morrow. Is not this the honoured day
You purposed to set forward to the war?
Charl. My inclination did intend it so.
D'Am. And not your resolution?
Charl. Yes, my lord;
Had not my father contradicted it.
D'Am. O noble war! Thou first original
Of all man's honour, how dejectedly
The baser spirit of our present time
Hath cast itself below the ancient worth
Of our forefathers, from whose noble deeds
Ignobly we derive our pedigrees.
Charl. Sir, tax not me for his unwillingness.
By the command of his authority
My disposition's forced against itself.
D'Am. Nephew, you are the honour of our blood.
The troop of gentry, whose inferior worth
Should second your example, are become
Your leaders; and the scorn of their discourse
Turns smiling back upon your backwardness.
Charl. You need not urge my spirit by disgrace,
'Tis free enough; my father hinders it.
To curb me, he denies me maintenance
To put me in the habit of my rank.
Unbind me from that strong necessity,—
And call me coward, if I stay behind.
D'Am. For want of means? Borachio, where's the gold?
I'd disinherit my posterity
To purchase honour. 'Tis an interest
I prize above the principal of wealth.
I'm glad I had the occasion to make known
How readily my substance shall unlock
Itself to serve you. Here's a thousand crowns.
Charl. My worthy uncle, in exchange for this
I leave my bond; so I am doubly bound;
By that, for the repayment of this gold,
And by this gold, to satisfy your love.
D'Am. Sir, 'tis a witness only of my love,
And love doth always satisfy itself.
Now to your father, labour his consent,
My importunity shall second yours.
We will obtain it.
Charl. If entreaty fail,
The force of reputation shall prevail. [Exit.
D'Am. Go call my sons, that they may take their leaves
Of noble Charlemont. Now, my Borachio!
Bor. The substance of our former argument
Was wealth.
D'Am. The question, how to compass it.
Bor. Young Charlemont is going to the war.
D'Am. O, thou begin'st to take me!
Bor. Mark me then.
Methinks the pregnant wit of man might make
The happy absence of this Charlemont
A subject of commodious providence.
He has a wealthy father, ready even
To drop into his grave. And no man's power,
When Charlemont is gone, can interpose
'Twixt you and him.
D'Am. Thou hast apprehended both
My meaning and my love. Now let thy trust,
For undertaking and for secrecy
Hold measure with thy amplitude of wit;
And thy reward shall parallel thy worth.
Bor. My resolution has already bound
Me to your service.
D'Am. And my heart to thee.
Enter Rousard and Sebastian.
Here are my sons.—
There's my eternity. My life in them
And their succession shall for ever live.
And in my reason dwells the providence
To add to life as much of happiness.
Let all men lose, so I increase my gain,
I have no feeling of another's pain. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—An Apartment in Montferrers' Mansion.
Enter Montferrers and Charlemont.
Mont. I prithee, let this current of my tears
Divert thy inclination from the war,
For of my children thou art only left
To promise a succession to my house.
And all the honour thou canst get by arms
Will give but vain addition to thy name;
Since from thy ancestors thou dost derive
A dignity sufficient, and as great
As thou hast substance to maintain and bear.
I prithee, stay at home.
Charl. My noble father,
The weakest sigh you breathe hath power to turn
My strongest purpose, and your softest tear
To melt my resolution to as soft
Obedience; but my affection to the war
Is as hereditary as my blood
To every life of all my ancestry.
Your predecessors were your precedents,
And you are my example. Shall I serve
For nothing but a vain parenthesis
I' the honoured story of your family?
Or hang but like an empty scutcheon
Between the trophies of my predecessors,
And the rich arms of my posterity?
There's not a Frenchman of good blood and youth,
But either out of spirit or example
Is turned a soldier. Only Charlemont
Must be reputed that same heartless thing
That cowards will be bold to play upon.
Enter D'Amville, Rousard, and Sebastian.
D'Am. Good morrow, my lord.
Mont. Morrow, good brother.
Charl. Good morrow, uncle.
D'Am. Morrow, kind nephew.
What, ha' you washed your eyes wi' tears this morning?
Come, by my soul, his purpose does deserve
Your free consent;—your tenderness dissuades him.
What to the father of a gentleman
Should be more tender than the maintenance
And the increase of honour to his house?
My lord, here are my boys. I should be proud
That either this were able, or that inclined
To be my nephew's brave competitor.
Mont. Your importunities have overcome.
Pray God my forced grant prove not ominous!
D'Am. We have obtained it.—Ominous! in what?
It cannot be in anything but death.
And I am of a confident belief
That even the time, place, manner of our deaths
Do follow Fate with that necessity
That makes us sure to die. And in a thing
Ordained so certainly unalterable,
What can the use of providence prevail?
Enter Belforest, Levidulcia, Castabella, and Attendants.
Bel. Morrow, my Lord Montferrers, Lord D'Amville.
Good morrow, gentlemen. Cousin Charlemont,
Kindly good morrow. Troth, I was afeared
I should ha' come too late to tell you that
I wish your undertakings a success
That may deserve the measure of their worth.
Charl. My lord, my duty would not let me go
Without receiving your commandëments.
Bel. Accompliments are more for ornament
Then use. We should employ no time in them
But what our serious business will admit.
Mont. Your favour had by his duty been prevented
If we had not withheld him in the way.
D'Am. He was a coming to present his service;
But now no more. The book invites to breakfast.
Wilt please your lordship enter?—Noble lady!
[Exeunt all except Charlemont and Castabella.
Charl. My noble mistress, this accompliment
Is like an elegant and moving speech,
Composed of many sweet persuasive points,
Which second one another, with a fluent
Increase and confirmation of their force,
Reserving still the best until the last,
To crown the strong impulsion of the rest
With a full conquest of the hearer's sense;
Because the impression of the last we speak
Doth always longest and most constantly
Possess the entertainment of remembrance.
So all that now salute my taking leave
Have added numerously to the love
Wherewith I did receive their courtesy.
But you, dear mistress, being the last and best
That speaks my farewell, like the imperious close
Of a most sweet oration, wholly have
Possessed my liking, and shall ever live
Within the soul of my true memory.
So, mistress, with this kiss I take my leave.
Cast. My worthy servant, you mistake the intent
Of kissing. 'Twas not meant to separate
A pair of lovers, but to be the seal
Of love; importing by the joining of
Our mutual and incorporated breaths,
That we should breathe but one contracted life.
Or stay at home, or let me go with you.
Charl. My Castabella, for myself to stay,
Or you to go, would either tax my youth
With a dishonourable weakness, or
Your loving purpose with immodesty.
Enter Languebeau Snuffe.
And, for the satisfaction of your love,
Here comes a man whose knowledge I have made
A witness to the contract of our vows,
Which my return, by marriage, shall confirm.
Lang. I salute you both with the spirit of copulation, already informed of your matrimonial purposes, and will testimony to the integrity—
Cast. O the sad trouble of my fearful soul!
My faithful servant, did you never hear
That when a certain great man went to the war,
The lovely face of Heaven was masqued with sorrow,
The sighing winds did move the breast of earth,
The heavy clouds hung down their mourning heads,
And wept sad showers the day that he went hence
As if that day presaged some ill success
That fatally should kill his happiness.
And so it came to pass. Methinks my eyes
(Sweet Heaven forbid!) are like those weeping clouds,
And as their showers presaged, so do my tears.
Some sad event will follow my sad fears.
Charl. Fie, superstitious! Is it bad to kiss?
Cast. May all my fears hurt me no more than this!
Lang. Fie, fie, fie! these carnal kisses do stir up the concupiscences of the flesh.
Enter Belforest and Levidulcia.
Lev. O! here's your daughter under her servant's lips.
Charl. Madam, there is no cause you should mistrust
The kiss I gave; 'twas but a parting one.
Lev. A lusty blood! Now by the lip of love,
Were I to choose your joining one for me—
Bel. Your father stays to bring you on the way.
Farewell. The great commander of the war
Prosper the course you undertake! Farewell.
Charl. My lord, I humbly take my leave.—Madam,
I kiss your hand.—And your sweet lip.—[To Castabella.] Farewell.
[Exeunt Belforest, Levidulcia, and Castabella.
Her power to speak is perished in her tears.
Something within me would persuade my stay,
But reputation will not yield unto't.
Dear sir, you are the man whose honest trust
My confidence hath chosen for my friend.
I fear my absence will discomfort her.
You have the power and opportunity
To moderate her passion. Let her grief
Receive that friendship from you, and your love
Shall not repent itself of courtesy.
Lang. Sir, I want words and protestation to insinuate into your credit; but in plainness and truth, I will qualify her grief with the spirit of consolation.
Charl. Sir, I will take your friendship up at use,
And fear not that your profit shall be small;
Your interest shall exceed your principal. [Exit.
Re-enter D'Amville with Borachio.
D'Am. Monsieur Languebeau! happily encountered. The honesty of your conversation makes me request more interest in your familiarity.
Lang. If your lordship will be pleased to salute me without ceremony, I shall be willing to exchange my service for your favour; but this worshipping kind of entertainment is a superstitious vanity; in plainness and truth, I love it not.
D'Am. I embrace your disposition, and desire to give you as liberal assurance of my love as my Lord Belforest, your deserved favourer.
Lang. His lordship is pleased with my plainness and truth of conversation.
D'Am. It cannot displease him. In the behaviour of his noble daughter Castabella a man may read her worth and your instruction.
Lang. That gentlewoman is most sweetly modest, fair, honest, handsome, wise, well-born, and rich.
D'Am. You have given me her picture in small.
Lang. She's like your diamond; a temptation in every man's eye, yet not yielding to any light impression herself.
D'Am. The praise is hers, but the comparison your own. [Gives him the ring.
Lang. You shall forgive me that, sir.
D'Am. I will not do so much at your request as forgive you it. I will only give you it, sir. By —— you will make me swear.
Lang. O! by no means. Profane not your lips with the foulness of that sin. I will rather take it. To save your oath, you shall lose your ring.—Verily, my lord, my praise came short of her worth. She exceeds a jewel. This is but only for ornament: she both for ornament and use.
D'Am. Yet unprofitably kept without use. She deserves a worthy husband, sir. I have often wished a match between my elder son and her. The marriage would join the houses of Belforest and D'Amville into a noble alliance.
Lang. And the unity of families is a work of love and charity.
D'Am. And that work an employment well becoming the goodness of your disposition.
Lang. If your lordship please to impose it upon me I will carry it without any second end; the surest way to satisfy your wish.
D'Am. Most joyfully accepted. Rousard! Here are letters to my Lord Belforest, touching my desire to that purpose.
Enter Rousard, looking sickly.
Rousard, I send you a suitor to Castabella. To this gentleman's discretion I commit the managing of your suit. His good success shall be most thankful to your trust. Follow his instructions; he will be your leader.
Lang. In plainness and truth.
Rous. My leader! Does your lordship think me too weak to give the onset myself?
Lang. I will only assist your proceedings.
Rous. To say true, so I think you had need; for a sick man can hardly get a woman's good will without help.
Lang. Charlemont, thy gratuity and my promises were both
But words, and both, like words, shall vanish into air.
For thy poor empty hand I must be mute;
This gives me feeling of a better suit.
[Exeunt Languebeau and Rousard.
D'Am. Borachio, didst precisely note this man?
Bor. His own profession would report him pure.
D'Am. And seems to know if any benefit
Arises of religion after death.
Yet but compare's profession with his life;—
They so directly contradict themselves,
As if the end of his instructions were
But to divert the world from sin, that he
More easily might ingross it to himself.
By that I am confirmed an atheist.
Well! Charlemont is gone; and here thou seest
His absence the foundation of my plot.
Bor. He is the man whom Castabella loves.
D'Am. That was the reason I propounded him
Employment, fixed upon a foreign place,
To draw his inclination out o' the way.
Bor. It has left the passage of our practice free.
D'Am. This Castabella is a wealthy heir;
And by her marriage with my elder son
My house is honoured and my state increased.
This work alone deserves my industry;
But if it prosper, thou shalt see my brain
Make this but an induction to a point
So full of profitable policy,
That it would make the soul of honesty
Ambitious to turn villain.
Bor. I bespeak
Employment in't. I'll be an instrument
To grace performance with dexterity.
D'Am. Thou shalt. No man shall rob thee of the honour.
Go presently and buy a crimson scarf
Like Charlemont's: prepare thee a disguise
I' the habit of a soldier, hurt and lame;
And then be ready at the wedding feast,
Where thou shalt have employment in a work
Will please thy disposition.
Bor. As I vowed,
Your instrument shall make your project proud.
D'Am. This marriage will bring wealth. If that succeed,
I will increase it though my brother bleed.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.—An Apartment in Belforest's Mansion.
Enter Castabella avoiding the importunity of Rousard.
Cast. Nay, good sir; in troth, if you knew how little it pleases me, you would forbear it.
Rous. I will not leave thee till thou'st entertained me for thy servant.
Cast. My servant! You are sick you say. You would tax me of indiscretion to entertain one that is not able to do me service.
Rous. The service of a gentlewoman consists most in chamber work, and sick men are fittest for the chamber. I prithee give me a favour.
Cast. Methinks you have a very sweet favour of your own.
Rous. I lack but your black eye.
Cast. If you go to buffets among the boys, they'll give you one.
Rous. Nay, if you grow bitter I'll dispraise your black eye.
The gray-eyed morning makes the fairest day.
Cast. Now that you dissemble not, I could be willing to give you a favour. What favour would you have?
Rous. Any toy, any light thing.
Cast. Fie! Will you be so uncivil to ask a light thing at a gentlewoman's hand?
Rous. Wilt give me a bracelet o' thy hair then?
Cast. Do you want hair, sir.
Rous. No, faith, I'll want no hair, so long as I can have it for money.
Cast. What would you do with my hair then?
Rous. Wear it for thy sake, sweetheart.
Cast. Do you think I love to have my hair worn off?
Rous. Come, you are so witty now and so sensible. [Kisses her.
Cast. Tush, I would I wanted one o' my senses now!
Rous. Bitter again? What's that? Smelling?
Cast. No, no, no. Why now y'are satisfied, I hope. I have given you a favour.
Rous. What favour? A kiss? I prithee give me another.
Cast. Show me that I gave it you then.
Rous. How should I show it?
Cast. You are unworthy of a favour if you will not bestow the keeping of it one minute.
Rous. Well, in plain terms, dost love me? That's the purpose of my coming.
Cast. Love you? Yes, very well.
Rous. Give me thy hand upon't.
Cast. Nay, you mistake me. If I love you very well I must not love you now. For now y'are not very well, y'are sick.
Rous. This equivocation is for the jest now.
Cast. I speak't as 'tis now in fashion, in earnest. But I shall not be in quiet for you, I perceive, till I have given you a favour. Do you love me?
Rous. With all my heart.
Cast. Then with all my heart I'll give you a jewel to hang in your ear.—Hark ye—I can never love you. [Exit.
Rous. Call you this a jewel to hang in mine ear? 'Tis no light favour, for I'll be sworn it comes somewhat heavily to me. Well, I will not leave her for all this. Methinks it animates a man to stand to't, when a woman desires to be rid of him at the first sight. [Exit.
SCENE IV.—Another Apartment in the same.
Enter Belforest and Languebeau Snuffe.
Bel. I entertain the offer of this match
With purpose to confirm it presently.
I have already moved it to my daughter.
Her soft excuses savoured at the first,
Methought, but of a modest innocence
Of blood, whose unmoved stream was never drawn
Into the current of affection. But when I
Replied with more familiar arguments,
Thinking to make her apprehension bold,—
Her modest blush fell to a pale dislike;
And she refused it with such confidence,
As if she had been prompted by a love
Inclining firmly to some other man;
And in that obstinacy she remains.
Lang. Verily, that disobedience doth not become a child. It proceedeth from an unsanctified liberty. You will be accessory to your own dishonour if you suffer it.
Bel. Your honest wisdom has advised me well.
Once more I'll move her by persuasive means.
If she resist, all mildness set apart,
I will make use of my authority.
Lang. And instantly, lest fearing your constraint
Her contrary affection teach her some
Device that may prevent you.
Bel. To cut off every opportunity
Procrastination may assist her with
This instant night she shall be married.
Lang. Best.
Enter Castabella.
Cast. Please it your lordship, my mother attends
I' the gallery, and desires your conference.
[Exit Belforest.
This means I used to bring me to your ear.
[To Languebeau.
Time cuts off circumstance; I must be brief,
To your integrity did Charlemont
Commit the contract of his love and mine;
Which now so strong a hand seeks to divide,
That if your grave advice assist me not,
I shall be forced to violate my faith.
Lang. Since Charlemont's absence I have weighed his love with the spirit of consideration; and in sincerity I find it to be frivolous and vain. Withdraw your respect; his affection deserveth it not.
Cast. Good sir, I know your heart cannot profane
The holiness you make profession of
With such a vicious purpose as to break
The vow your own consent did help to make.
Lang. Can he deserve your love who in neglect
Of your delightful conversation and
In obstinate contempt of all your prayers
And tears, absents himself so far from your
Sweet fellowship, and with a purpose so
Contracted to that absence that you see
He purchases your separation with
The hazard of his blood and life, fearing to want
Pretence to part your companies.—
'Tis rather hate that doth division move.
Love still desires the presence of his love.—
Verily he is not of the family of love.
Cast. O do not wrong him! 'Tis a generous mind
That led his disposition to the war:
For gentle love and noble courage are
So near allied, that one begets another;
Or Love is sister and Courage is the brother.
Could I affect him better then before,
His soldier's heart would make me love him more.
Lang. But, Castabella—
Enter Levidulcia.
Lev. Tush, you mistake the way into a woman.
The passage lies not through her reason but her blood.
[Exit Languebeau. Castabella about to follow.
Nay, stay! How wouldst thou call the child,
That being raised with cost and tenderness
To full hability of body and means,
Denies relief unto the parents who
Bestowed that bringing up?
Cast. Unnatural.
Lev. Then Castabella is unnatural.
Nature, the loving mother of us all,
Brought forth a woman for her own relief
By generation to revive her age;
Which, now thou hast hability and means
Presented, most unkindly dost deny.
Cast. Believe me, mother, I do love a man.
Lev. Preferr'st the affection of an absent love
Before the sweet possession of a man;
The barren mind before the fruitful body,
Where our creation has no reference
To man but in his body, being made
Only for generation; which (unless
Our children can be gotten by conceit)
Must from the body come? If Reason were
Our counsellor, we would neglect the work
Of generation for the prodigal
Expense it draws us to of that which is
The wealth of life. Wise Nature, therefore, hath
Reserved for an inducement to our sense
Our greatest pleasure in that greatest work;
Which being offered thee, thy ignorance
Refuses, for the imaginary joy
Of an unsatisfied affection to
An absent man whose blood once spent i' the war
Then he'll come home sick, lame, and impotent,
And wed thee to a torment, like the pain
Of Tantalus, continuing thy desire
With fruitless presentation of the thing
It loves, still moved, and still unsatisfied.
Enter Belforest, D'Amville, Rousard, Sebastian, Languebeau, &c.
Bel. Now, Levidulcia, hast thou yet prepared
My daughter's love to entertain this man
Her husband, here?
Lev. I'm but her mother i' law;
Yet if she were my very flesh and blood
I could advise no better for her[144] good.
Rous. Sweet wife,
Thy joyful husband thus salutes thy cheek.
Cast. My husband? O! I am betrayed.—
Dear friend of Charlemont, your purity
Professes a divine contempt o' the world;
O be not bribed by that you so neglect,
In being the world's hated instrument,
To bring a just neglect upon yourself!
[Kneels from one to another.
Dear father, let me but examine my
Affection.—Sir, your prudent judgment can
Persuade your son that 'tis improvident
To marry one whose disposition he
Did ne'er observe.—Good sir, I may be of
A nature so unpleasing to your mind,
Perhaps you'll curse the fatal hour wherein
You rashly married me.
D'Am. My Lord Belforest,
I would not have her forced against her choice.
Bel. Passion o' me, thou peevish girl! I charge
Thee by my blessing, and the authority
I have to claim thy obedience, marry him.
Cast. Now, Charlemont! O my presaging tears!
This sad event hath followed my sad fears.
Sebas. A rape, a rape, a rape!
Bel. How now!
D'Am. What's that?
Sebas. Why what is't but a rape to force a wench
To marry, since it forces her to lie
With him she would not?
Lang. Verily his tongue is an unsanctified member.
Sebas. Verily
Your gravity becomes your perished soul
As hoary mouldiness does rotten fruit.
Bel. Cousin, y'are both uncivil and profane.
D'Am. Thou disobedient villain, get thee out of my sight.
Now, by my soul, I'll plague thee for this rudeness.
Bel. Come, set forward to the church.
[Exeunt all except Sebastian.
Sebas. And verify the proverb—The nearer the church the further from God.—Poor wench! For thy sake may his hability die in his appetite, that thou beest not troubled with him thou lovest not! May his appetite move thy desire to another man, so he shall help to make himself cuckold! And let that man be one that he pays wages to; so thou shalt profit by him thou hatest. Let the chambers be matted, the hinges oiled, the curtain rings silenced, and the chambermaid hold her peace at his own request, that he may sleep the quieter; and in that sleep let him be soundly cuckolded. And when he knows it, and seeks to sue a divorce, let him have no other satisfaction than this: He lay by and slept: the law will take no hold of her because he winked at it. [Exit.