SCENE V.
Enter All Ladies, Nurses, Pinguister, and Lean-man, as in the vault; Philidor as a Crier.
Phil. O yes, O yes, O yes! did any man hear tale
Or tidings of three nurses, called Three Flanders
Mares, with three sucking colts?—
All Nurses. Hark, we are cried
In the streets.
Phil. And also six maiden ladies, that should
Have been married to a certain
Promising gentleman?—
All Ladies. Devil! we are
Cried too.
Phil. Also a very lean gentleman,
That must be fatter before he's married?—
Lean-man. Hark, that is I?
Phil. And the hugest loss of
All is one Master Pinguister, a lovely
Fat gentleman, whom all that knew him, doubt him
To be dead upon some privy-house; because
He purged every day for love, by reason
Mistress Mirida would not marry him till
A certain measure that she[75] has will come
About his waist—
Enter Mirida.
Ping. Crier, I am here, I am here.
Phil. If any can bring news of the six aforesaid
Virgin ladies, or of the three Flanders nurses
And colts, to one Master Philidor, a very
Conscientious young man—
Omnes. A pox take him!
Phil. They shall be extremely paid for their pains.
Again, if any can bring tidings of this
Master Pinguister to Mistress Mirida,
She will be very bountiful in her
Reward: the poor soul weeps most bitterly
For him.
Ping. Does she so, poor wretch? [Cries aloud.] Prythee, good
Crier, go tell her I am not dead, though
I have been buried a great while in the
Vault.
Mercy of my bum-gut, my purge again?
Omnes. You nasty rogue, turn your breech out of the
Gate then.
[Goes to do so, Philidor kicks him down, he roars out.
Mir. Philidor, I have broke a vein
With laughing, to hear thy rogueries. I'll call
To Pinguister. Master Pinguister? My
Love, my dear, sure, I hear thy voice?
Ping. Who's that,
My dear female?
Mir. The same, fat love.
Ping. O, prythee raise me from the dead.
Phil. Well, ladies and gentlewomen, how d'ye
Like your crier now?
Omnes. The devil take thee, was it you?
Phil. The very same.
2d Lady. Well, won't you let us out? pray howsoever,
Take away this fat gentleman from us;
For he has such a coming looseness, and
'Tis so dark here, that he has
Shit upon every one of us.
Omnes. Well, but won't you let us out?
Phil. Yes, if you ladies would set your hands
To this paper, to quit me as to all promises,
I will; and also, my reverend nurses,
You must set your hands to this discharge,
To quit me from all arrears of nursing:
Else farewell t'ye—
Omnes. Well, well, stay; we will. [Set their hands.
Phil. So, now you may go take the air
Again; there's the key to let yourselves out.
Omnes. A cheating rogue!
Phil. Come, Mirida, let's run away, for if
They catch us, murder is the best we can
Hope for. [Exit, with Mirida.
1st Nurse. They went this way; let's run after
Them, some one way and some t'other. [Exeunt Women.
Ping. So you may, but if I run away, then
Hang me; I am glad of my resurrection
Howsoever. On my conscience, no green
Carcase ever stunk as I did; to my best
Remembrance I went to stool some
Threescore times in the vault, ergo
I was beaten threescore times; the
Unmerciful nurses, with their huge
Palm'd hands, every time I went to't,
Play'd at hot-cockles[76] all the while upon
My buttocks. Well, I hope I shall ne'er be
Buried again whilst I live, and so with
That prayer I'll go to bed.
Enter Mirida.
Mir. My dear fat love, little dost thou think how many
Tears I have shed for all thy sufferings; that rogue
Philidor put a trick upon us all.
Ping. Well, and has physic, heats, burial,
Nor resurrection, made me yet lean
Enough to be thy husband? why, I have
Lost as much grease as would furnish
A whole city with candles for a twelvemonth
And all for the love of thee, sweet Mirida. [Cries and sobs.
Mir. Dear love, come sit thee in my lap,
And let me try if I can enclose thy world
Of fat and love within these arms:
See, I cannot nigh encompass my
Desires by a mile.
Ping. How is my fat a rival to my joys! [Cries.
Sure, I shall weep it all away.
Mir. Lie still, my babe, lie still and sleep,
It grieves me sore to see thee weep:
Wer't thou but leaner, I were glad;
Thy fatness makes thy dear love sad.
What a lump of love have I in my arms!
Ping. Nay, if I had not taken all these courses
To dissolve myself into thy embraces,
One would think my looking on thee
Were enough; for I never see thee but
I am like a fat piece of beef roasting
At the fire, continually drop, drop, drop.
There's ne'er a feature in thy face, or
Part about thee, but has cost me many
A pint of fat, with thinking on thee;
And yet not to be lean enough for
Thy husband—O fate! O fate!
O fat! [She lets him fall.
Mir. O Lord, sir, I have let you fall,
How shall I do to get you up again!
Ping. Nay, that is more than all the world can tell.
Mir. I'll e'en lie down by thee then.
Ping. Nay,
But prythee lie near me; thou hadst
As good lie a league off, as that distance.
Mir. Were I thy wife, fat love, I would.
She sings.
My lodging upon the cold floor is,
And wonderful hard is my fare,
But that which troubles me more, is
The fatness of my dear.
Yet still I do cry, O, melt, love,
And I prythee now melt apace;
For thou art the man I should long for,
If 'twere not for thy grease.
Pinguister sings.
Then prythee don't burden thy heart still,
And be deaf to my pitiful moan;
Since I do endure the smart still,
And for my fat do groan;
Then prythee now turn, my dear love,
And I prythee now turn to me;
For, alas! I am too fat still
To roll so far to thee.
Mir. That were not modesty in me to turn
To you; but if you can roll to me within
This hour, I'll marry you in spite of all
Your fat.
Ping. Agreed, then I shall gain thee yet;
You must lie still then.
Mir. Yes, yes.
Ping. Sure, I am
Sysiphus's stone, for as fast as I turn
Over, I think I turn back again, else I
Must needs have been come to my journey's end
[He rolls to her, and she rolls from him.
By this time; for I am of such a breadth,
That every roll I give I pass over
An acre at least. Thou liest still, my love,
Dost thou not?
Mir. Yes, I long to have thee here.
Ping. I doubt I shan't be with thee, though,
This two hours.
Mir. Then my heart will break.
Ping. I'm sure mine will before I get to thee.
O woman, O woman, O woman!
They talk of woman in travail, I'm
Sure I know a man in travail at
This time, in more pain by half. [She rises and laughs at him.
Mir. Why, my most extreme fat ass, dost
Thou not find that I have fool'd thee
All this while?
Ping. Why, hast thou?
Mir. Yes, indeed have I.
Ping. O thou woman! may'st thou grow
Fat, that thy breast and belly may
Meet together, so that all the fat
Hostesses in Christendom may appear
But eels to thee.
Mir. Farewell, my lowly love.
Ping. Why, wilt thou not help me up, before
You go?
Mir. What to do? to run heats again for love?
Ping. No, to fight with thee.
Mir. Fight with me? by this light, would we
Had two swords. I'd have one pass
At all thy tripes.
Enter Cutler with two swords.
Faith, and yonder's a fellow with two swords:
Friend, lend me but thy swords one minute.
Cut. I am going to carry them to two gentlemen.
Mir. O, this will not hinder thee; thou shalt
See rare sport. Go, help that gentleman
Up that lies yonder, and give that sword
Into his hand. Come, are ye ready, sir?
Ping. Why, you dare fight then, it seems?
Though thou art so ungodly a chit, as
To say no prayers, before thou beginn'st,
I will, I assure thee.
Good—I pray and desire ye, if I
Do miscarry in this duel, that I may
Meet with no woman in the other
World. Now, thou worst of females,
Have at thee.
Mir. Come, I'll let out all your fat and love at
One thrust. [Fight, and she disarms him.
Now ask thy life, and confess thou art an ass.
Ping. I am an ass, and ask my life.
Mir. Then I, thy conquering Cæsar, take my leave
With this conclusion: veni, vidi, vici.
And so farewell. O fate, O love, O fat! [Exit.
Ping. After all my miseries, would I were
Up again, else the next man that comes
Will make a roller of me, for to roll
Bowling-greens.
[Makes several attempts to rise, and at last gets up.
So, now I have a mile home at least,
And every toilsome step I take, I will
Curse women. [Exit.
Enter Zoranzo and Amphelia lying upon straw together.
Zor. Most bless'd of women, I must tell you truth;
And yet I fear that truth will——
Amph. Will what? I doubt he loves me— [Aside.
Speak it, sir, nothing from you can
Be unwelcome.
Zor. O yes, it will.
Amph. I'll warrant you; out with it, sir.
Zor. Then know, I——'Twill come no farther.
Amph. Unhappy man! 'tis so, he loves me. [Aside.
O sir, I have sadder truth to tell to you
Than yours can be to me——I dare not
Speak it.
Zor. My fears are true; she loves me. [Aside.
Pray tell me, what it is?
Amph. Tell yours first, sir.
Zor. Alas! you saw I tried, but could not get
It past my lips.
Amph. If I should try, mine would not come so far.
Zor. Would I knew yours, I could tell it for you.
Amph. So could I yours, [and] yet I can't my own.
Zor. Alas! she loves me. [Aside.
Amph. Poor Zoranzo! I see he loves me. [Aside.
But, sir, consider we are going to die;
Let us die undeceiv'd in one another.
Zor. O, that some one that knows each of our hearts,
Would hearken to our griefs, and bid
An angel come and speak for both!
Enter Jailor.
Jailor. Come, have you done your discourse? you must go
To execution.
Zor. A little patience, jailor: [To her] see, we are
Called unto our deaths, pray tell me, what
You mean.
Amph. I cannot; first do you begin.
Zor. Nor I.
Amph. Let us tell both together then, that one
May not blame the other.
Zor. Agreed: are you ready now to speak!
Amph. Yes—O no, I am not—well, now I am—
Are you?
Zor. Yes, I am; begin—O, stay, I cannot yet.
Jailor. Come, come, I can give you no longer time.
Amph. Nay, then we must tell.
Zor. Poor Amphelia! 'tis Amarissa that
I love.
Amph. O Zoranzo, I love the duke!
Zor. Then I am joy'd, I was afraid 'twas me
You lov'd.
Amph. And so was I that you lov'd me.
Now we shall both die happy, never was
Two such friends as you and I.
Jailor. Come, come.
Amph. Good jailor, we go most willingly now. [Exeunt.
Enter as on a scaffold, Duke, Amarissa, Ortellus, Zoranzo, Amphelia, Jailor, and Executioner.
Ama. Jailor, why didst thou let them stay so long?
Jailor. They had so much to say to one another,
That still they begged one minute, and then
Another.
Ama. D'ye hear, sir? pray let the jailor
Be turn'd out of his place, for letting them speak to
One another.
Amph. See, Zoranzo, where they sit
In triumph o'er our deaths.
Ama. S'life, sir, they are
Whispering, d'ye see
Yonder? Executioner, why don't you
Strike off their heads, and let them whisper then.
Sir, you're melancholy.
Duke. I am indeed.
Zor. Now, Amphelia, to heaven and you I truly
Vow, my love is still the same to cruel Amarissa.
Amph. Heaven and you witness the same for me:
My heart is still that undeserving duke's.
Exec. Come, which of you will die first?
Zor. Hast thou not
Skill enough to strike our heads off together?
Ama. Executioner, let them not have that
Satisfaction; pray, sir, let that woman
Die first, that damned Zoranzo may have
Two deaths; it will be one to him to see
Her die; shall it be so, sir?
Duke. What you please.
Exec. Come, lady, you must lay down your head
First, the duke says.
Amph. That word's the sharpest axe
That I shall feel.
Exec. Have you said all? [Both kneel as at prayers.
Amph. To earth I have,
But not to heaven.
Farewell, dear friend, for one short minute.
Zor. My soul
Shall hasten after yours.
Ama. S'life! jailor, will you
Let them speak to one another again?
Amph. Executioner, now I am ready.
Duke. Hold,
The prisoner shall die first.
Zor. With all my
Heart, I am ready.
Duke. Nay, it is not you
I mean, sir; rise; 'tis I that am the prisoner,
I will make you a present, take your life,
Your love; nay, and my dukedom too: and to
Oblige you most of all, executioner,
Strike off my head, for I am weary of it.
Amph. Not for ten thousand worlds, sir,
Whate'er you mean.
Duke. Know then, I have lov'd you
All this while, but seeing your hate so great to me,
I have dissembled scorn to you. [She swoons.
Why dost thou swoon, Amphelia?
Amph. Did not I hear some voice just now,
That said the duke does love me still?
Duke. Thou didst; 'twas he himself that said so.
Amph. If 'twere from heaven, good heaven, say it again!
Duke. 'Twas I myself, I tell thee—and I will
Ne'er speak another word, if that displease thee.
Amph. O, I am in heaven then, it seems, and 'tis
Some god that is telling me how the duke
Loved me still.
Duke. Dear Amphelia, 'tis I
That loves thee, tells thee so.
Amph. Hark, now there is a god that says he loves
Me too; blest god, I'm sorry if you do.
Since I have heard the duke does love me still,
He must be your rival, indeed I cannot
Help it. O, let me fly down to the earth
Again, only to hear him say he loves me.
I cannot promise when I shall return:
That very word from him would keep me there.
Duke. I must answer her no more: they say
'Twill keep 'em longer in a trance. [He rubs her.
Ort. I am but in a scurvy condition now, if
She comes to life again, for they will
Examine one another, how the mistake
Came between them, and then I am
Sure it must come to light. [Aside.
Amph. Who's that,—duke Archimedes?
Duke. The same, sweet angel.
Amph. O sir, I am come from heaven to see you,
Since there I heard you love me still.
Duke. Dear Amphelia, thou hast dream'd all this while;
Heaven, 'tis true, is where thou art, but 'twas
My voice that said I love thee.
Amph. Was not my head struck off just now?
Duke. Canst thou ask that, while I have
A head and heart?
Amph. Why, have you lov'd me still?
Duke. With as much truth as ever lover did.
Amph. So have I you with equal constancy.
Ama. Well, sir, now you are satisfied, pray let
Me be so too, and let Zoranzo's head
Be struck off quickly,
I see he's mean as well as false, to quit
Me for a woman that does not love him.
Amph. Hold, Amarissa, hear me speak, before
Zoranzo dies; and be assur'd he loves
You still.
Ama. Would you deceive me too?
Amph. Indeed I don't; when we were going to die,
You may remember that we whispered,
Then we called heaven and ourselves to witness,
That both our loves were true,
Mine to Archimedes, and his to you.
Ama. You can forgive me, sir? [Kneels.
Zor. I cannot answer yet;
Thy civility has took away my speech.
Duke. Dear Amphelia, how came this sad mistake
'Twixt you and I?
Amph. I'll tell you, sir, in part;
When you were in this last war, my woman
Receiv'd a letter from one of the gentlemen
Of your chamber, wherein he did assure
Her that you had a new mistress in that
Country, and therefore bid her tell me
Of it, that I might by degrees wean my
Affections from so false a man as you.
Duke. Here has been some foul play; for this very man
You spoke of, receiv'd a letter from your woman,
Wherein she bid him assure me, that you
Were prov'd false in my absence, and lov'd my
Cousin Ortellus. Guard, go fetch them both
Hither immediately; they shall die
Without mercy.
Ort. Nay, then, I had as good
Discover, 'twill fall th' heavier on me else.
Sir, let the guard stay,
And I will tell you all.
'Tis I have sow'd the seeds of this mistake.
I long have lov'd Amphelia, for which cause
I tried this way to draw her heart from you.
I knew this gentleman of your bed-chamber
Was in love with Amphelia's woman,
Therefore I brib'd her to write to him,
To assure the duke that Amphelia lov'd me,
And that she should also charge him, to write
Another letter to her, wherein he
Should complain of the duke's falling in love
With another woman in that country.
I knew your spirits both to be so great that
Neither of you would stoop to one another,
When you were both possess'd of either's falseness:
And so it prov'd.
For when the duke heard you lov'd me, he brought
A fair new mistress over with him, to
Let you see he did contemn you; and so
Amphelia, sir, when she heard you lov'd
Another, assur'd me then that she lov'd me,
Which now I see was only to make you
Think how much she scorn'd you, though still her heart
Was true, and so was yours. Now, sir,
I humbly beg your pardon.
Duke. 'Twill be in vain, my lord; I cannot grant it.
O Amphelia, how many hours of joy
We two have lost!
Amph. Base lord!
Enter Artabella.
Art. O sir, I heard that people were to die
To-day; let me be one, I pray.
Amph. Not for
The world, sweet innocent.
Art. O madam, you are she
The duke loves. Pray spare your pity, sir; can
You have the heart to let me live, and see
You married to another?
Amph. Have patience,
Sweet young maid, I will not marry him; you won't
Blame me, if I love him, though?
Art. No;
For then I should condemn my fault in you.
Duke. But sure, Amphelia, you did but jest,
In telling her you would not marry me?
Amph. Indeed, sir, I am in earnest; consider
It is but justice; she loves you as well
As I: her heart was quiet till you troubled
It.
Duke. All this is true; but how will your
Love show, if you refuse to marry me?
Amph. Not less at all, but make my pity more.
Duke. If I would marry her, I can't believe,
That she would be thus kind to you.
Amph. Yes, I dare say she would; ask her and try.
Duke. Well, Artabella, will you marry me?
Art. You never hated me till now; can you
Believe I'd wrong so blest a woman as
Amphelia?
Amph. See, sir, would it be justice now in me?
She will not wound my heart; should I kill hers?
Duke. But consider, 'tis you I love, not her.
Amph. That's her misfortune, sir, yet she deserves.
As much as I: I can but love you, so
Does she.
Duke. Dear Amphelia, marry me.
Amph. I cannot
Out of pity, sir.
Duke. Talk not of pity, if
Thou wilt show me none.
Amph. My pity is her due:
My love is yours.
Duke. O Amphelia, this was
A cruel way to make me happy. Thou'st
Better still have kept my joys unknown, than let
The knowing of it be my death. Once more,
My dear Amphelia, marry me.
Amph. Do not
Petition her; you may command in any
Thing but this.
Duke. Monster of villains, thou hast caus'd
All this! Executioner, immediately strike
Off his head.
Ort. I'm sure you will not let me die.
Duke. Impudent villain, dispatch him straight.
Ort. Hold, sir, 'tis only I can make you
Three happy, which if you do not confess,
When you have heard me speak, then let me die.
Duke. Well, let's hear it.
Ort. Promise me my life
First, if I do.
Duke. Well, you shall have it.
Ort. Then know, the lady Artabella is
Your sister.
Duke. Ha!
Ort. I say, your sister;
You do remember that you had one once?
Duke. Yes, I do, but she was lost at three years old.
Ort. 'Tis true it was thought so; but thus it is:—
When 'twas reported you were slain in th' battle,
I straight convey'd away this lady, then
A child, because she should not stand 'twixt me
And the dukedom. I being then acquainted
With the mother to Arbatus, I brought
This lady, and gave her a sum of money,
T' adopt her for her child. With willingness
My offer she embrac'd, the more, because
Her son Arbatus had been lost about
Seven years, thought to have been cast away
At sea, though afterwards returned home:
I had enjoin'd her secrecy, which she
Kept, therefore she told Arbatus 'twas his
Sister.
Enter Arbatus.
Duke. And is she then my sister? O
Arbatus, welcome, welcome! I've a crowd
Of joys about my heart to tell thee.
Arb. What! that you have broken my sister's heart?
Duke. Thou hast no sister; 'tis I [that] possess that
Blessing; Artabella is my sister.
How blest a sound is sister to my ears!
I'll give command no other word but sister
Shall be spoke throughout my dukedom; I'll have it
Taught to infants; so that when nature lends
Their sucking tongues a means to speak one word,
They shall all babble sister, 'stead of nurse.
I'll have the name engrav'd in gold [up]on
Every post and pillar in the streets, and passers-
By shall worship it.
Arb. I am amazed.
Enter Philidor and Mirida.
Duke. Welcome, Philidor.
Phil. I am glad
To see joy in your looks again, sir;
The time is long since I have seen you smile.
Duke. Philidor, all that is joy I have within
This breast; it overflows
And runs into my eyes. This is my sister!
(O, what a word is sister!) and this my dear
And true Amphelia.
Come, Mirida shall be thine to-day too. [To Philidor.
Mir. Hold, sir, I forbid that banns.
Phil. Troth, so do I too; you always
Take the words out of my mouth.
You and I marry, quotha!
Mir. No, faith, we'll be hang'd first. I'd
Rather hear a long sermon, than
Hear a parson ask me: Mirida,
Will you have this man for your
Wedded husband, to have and to hold,
From this day forward, and so forth.
Phil. Right, for better for worse, in
Sickness or in health.
Mir. Ay, and perhaps after we have been
Married half a year, one's
Husband falls into a deep consumption,
And will not do one the favour to
Die neither, then we must be
Ever feeding him with caudles.
O, from a husband in a consumption
Deliver me!
Phil. And think how weary I should be
Of thee, Mirida, when once we were
Chain'd together: the very name of
Wife would be a vomit to me: then
Nothing but, where's my wife? call
My wife to dinner, call my wife to supper;
And then at night, come, wife, will you
Go to bed?
Mir. Ay, and that would be so troublesome
To be call'd by one's husband every night
To go to bed. O, that dull, dull
Name of husband!
Duke. Indeed you two are well met,
The world has not two more such,
I am confident.
Mir. The more the pity, sir.
Phil. No, sir, if you please, never propose
Marrying to us, till both of us have
Committed such faults as are death
By the law; then instead of
Hanging us, marry us.
Mir. And then you shall hear how
Earnestly we shall petition your
Highness to be hang'd rather than
Married.
Duke. No man can judge which is the
Wildest of these two.
Now, brave Arbatus, in all my dukedom
There is but one gift worthy thy
Receiving, and that's my sister;
Here, sir, take her as freely as heaven
Gave her me.
Arb. D'ye forgive me, sir?
Duke. Or not myself, Arbatus.
This day Hymen shall light his torch for all.
Phil. With your pardon, sir, not for me
And my female?
Mir. No, faith, I'll blow it out,
If he does.
Art. Sir, though in my own desires
I should have chose the man that you have given me,
Yet I beg we may not marry yet; we have
Call'd brother and sister so long, that yet
We needs must think we are so still.
Arb. Pray, madam,
Let's think so as little a while as we can,
That fancy may not keep my joy in prison.
Duke. Let's to the temple now, and there thank
Heaven for these unexpected joys.
Each day the gods shall lend me in this life,
I'll thank them for a sister and a wife. [Exeunt.