ACT V., SCENE I.
A Room in Mistress Mary's House.
Enter MISTRESS MARY, YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR,
BRABO, and MISTRESS SPLAY.
MRS MA. Not have my will! yes, I will have my will;
Shall I not go abroad but when you please?
Can I not now and then meet with my friends,
But, at my coming home, you will control me?
Marry, come up!
Y. ART. Where art thou, patience?
Nay, rather, where's become my former spleen?
I had a wife would not have us'd me so.
MRS MA. Why, you Jacksauce! you cuckold! you what-not!
What, am I not of age sufficient
To go and come still, when my pleasure serves,
But must I have you, sir, to question me?
Not have my will! yes, I will have my will.
Y. ART. I had a wife would not have us'd me so;
But she is dead.
BRA. Not have her will, sir! she shall have her will:
She says she will, and, sir, I say she shall.
Not have her will! that were a jest indeed;
Who says she shall not? if I be dispos'd
To man her forth, who shall find fault with it?
What's he that dare say black's her eye?[21]
Though you be married, sir, yet you must know,
That she was ever born to have her will.
MRS SPLAY. Not have her will! God's passion! I say still,
A woman's nobody that wants her will.
Y. ART. Where is my spirit? what, shall I maintain
A strumpet with a Brabo and her bawd,
To beard me out of my authority?
What, am I from a master made a slave?
MRS MA. A slave? nay, worse; dost thou maintain my man,
And this my maid? 'tis I maintain them both.
I am thy wife; I will not be dress'd so,
While thy gold lasts; but then most willingly
I will bequeath thee to flat beggary.
I do already hate thee; do thy worst;
[He threatens her.
Nay, touch me, if thou dar'st; what, shall he beat me?
BRA. I'll make him seek his fingers 'mongst the dogs,
That dares to touch my mistress; never fear,
My sword shall smoothe the wrinkles of his brows,
That bends a frown upon my mistress.
Y. ART. I had a wife would not have us'd me so:
But God is just.
MRS MA. Now, Arthur, if I knew
What in this world would most torment thy soul,
That I would do; would all my evil usage
Could make thee straight despair and hang thyself!
Now, I remember:—where is Arthur's man,
Pipkin? that slave! go, turn him out of doors;
None that loves Arthur shall have house-room here.
Enter PIPKIN.
Yonder he comes; Brabo, discard the fellow.
Y. ART. Shall I be over-master'd in my own?
Be thyself, Arthur:—strumpet! he shall stay.
MRS MA. What! shall he, Brabo? shall he, Mistress Splay?
BRA. Shall he? he shall not: breathes there any living
Dares say he shall, when Brabo says he shall not?
Y. ART. Is there no law for this? she is my wife;
Should I complain, I should be rather mock'd.
I am content; keep by thee whom thou list.
Discharge whom thou think'st good; do what thou wilt,
Rise, go to bed, stay at home, or go abroad
At thy good pleasure, keep all companies;
So that, for all this, I may have but peace.
Be unto me as I was to my wife;
Only give me, what I denied her then,
A little love, and some small quietness—
If he displease thee, turn him out of doors.
PIP. Who, me? Turn me out of doors? Is this all the wages I shall have at the year's end, to be turned out of doors? You, mistress! you are a—
MRS SPLAY. A what? speak, a what? touch her and touch me, taint her and taint me; speak, speak, a what?
PIP. Marry, a woman that is kin to the frost.[22]
MRS SPLAY. How do you mean that?
PIP. And you are akin to the Latin word, to understand.
MRS SPLAY. And what's that?
PIP. Subaudi, subaudi? and, sir, do you not use to pink doublets?
MRS SPLAY. And why?
PIP. I took you for a cutter, you are of a great kindred; you are a common cozener, everybody calls you cousin; besides, they say you are a very good warrener, you have been an old coneycatcher: but, if I be turned a-begging, as I know not what I am born to, and that you ever come to the said trade, as nothing is unpossible, I'll set all the commonwealth of beggars on your back, and all the congregation of vermin shall be put to your keeping; and then if you be not more bitten than all the company of beggars besides, I'll not have my will: zounds! turned out of doors! I'll go and set up my trade; a dish to drink in, that I have within; a wallet, that I'll make of an old shirt; then my speech, For the Lord's sake, I beseech your worship; then I must have a lame leg; I'll go to football and break my shins—and I am provided for that.
BRA. What! stands the villain prating? hence, you slave!
[Exit PIPKIN.
Y. ART. Art thou yet pleas'd?
MRS MA. When I have had my humour.
Y. ART. Good friends, for manners' sake awhile withdraw.
BRA. It is our pleasure, sir, to stand aside.
[MISTRESS SPLAY and BRABO stand aside.
Y. ART. Mary, what cause hast thou to use me thus?
From nothing I have rais'd thee to much wealth;
'Twas more than I did owe thee: many a pound,
Nay, many a hundred pound, I spent on thee
In my wife's time; and once, but by my means,
Thou hadst been in much danger: but in all things
My purse and credit ever bare thee out.
I did not owe thee this. I had a wife,
That would have laid herself beneath my feet
To do me service; her I set at nought
For the entire affection I bare thee.
To show that I have lov'd thee, have I not,
Above all women, made chief choice of thee?
An argument sufficient of my love!
What reason then hast thou to wrong me thus?
MRS MA. It is my humour.
Y. ART. O, but such humours honest wives should purge:
I'll show thee a far greater instance yet
Of the true love that I have borne to thee.
Thou knew'st my wife: was she not fair?
MRS MA. So, so.
Y. ART. But more than fair: was she not virtuous?
Endued with the beauty of the mind?
MRS MA. Faith, so they said.
Y. ART. Hark, in thine ear: I'll trust thee with my life,
Than which what greater instance of my love:
Thou knew'st full well how suddenly she died?
T'enjoy thy love, even then I poison'd her!
MRS MA. How! poison'd her? accursed murderer!
I'll ring this fatal 'larum in all ears,
Than which what greater instance of my hate?
Y. ART. Wilt thou not keep my counsel?
MRS MA. Villain, no!
Thou'lt poison me, as thou hast poison'd her.
Y. ART. Dost thou reward me thus for all my love?
Then, Arthur, fly, and seek to save thy life!
O, difference 'twixt a chaste and unchaste wife!
[Exit.
MRS MA. Pursue the murd'rer, apprehend him straight.
BRA. Why, what's the matter, mistress?
MRS MA. This villain Arthur poison'd his first wife,
Which he in secret hath confess'd to me;
Go and fetch warrants from the justices
T'attach the murd'rer; he once hang'd and dead,
His wealth is mine: pursue the slave that's fled.
BRA. Mistress, I will; he shall not pass this land,
But I will bring him bound with this strong hand.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
The Street before the House of Anselm's Mother.
Enter MISTRESS ARTHUR, poorly.
MRS ART. O, what are the vain pleasures of the world,
That in their actions we affect them so?
Had I been born a servant, my low life
Had steady stood from all these miseries.
The waving reeds stand free from every gust,
When the tall oaks are rent up by the roots.
What is vain beauty but an idle breath?
Why are we proud of that which so soon changes?
But rather wish the beauty of the mind,
Which neither time can alter, sickness change,
Violence deface, nor the black hand of envy
Smudge and disgrace, or spoil, or make deform'd.
O, had my riotous husband borne this mind,
He had been happy, I had been more blest,
And peace had brought our quiet souls to rest.
Enter YOUNG MASTER ARTHUR.
Y. ART. O, whither shall I fly to save my life
When murder and despair dogs at my heels?
O misery! thou never found'st a friend;
All friends forsake men in adversity:
My brother hath denied to succour me,
Upbraiding me with name of murderer;
My uncles double-bar their doors against me;
My father hath denied to shelter me,
And curs'd me worse than Adam did vile Eve.
I that, within these two days, had more friends
Than I could number with arithmetic,
Have now no more than one poor cypher is,
And that poor cypher I supply myself:
All that I durst commit my fortunes to,
I have tried, and find none to relieve my wants.
My sudden flight and fear of future shame
Left me unfurnish'd of all necessaries,
And these three days I have not tasted food.
MRS ART. It is my husband; O, how just is heaven!
Poorly disguis'd, and almost hunger-starv'd!
How comes this change?
Y. ART. Doth no man follow me?
O, how suspicious guilty murder is!
I starve for hunger, and I die for thirst.
Had I a kingdom, I would sell my crown
For a small bit of bread: I shame to beg,
And yet, perforce, I must or beg or starve.
This house, belike, 'longs to some gentlewoman,
And here's a woman: I will beg of her.
Good mistress, look upon a poor man's wants.
Whom do I see? tush! Arthur, she is dead.
But that I saw her dead and buried,
I would have sworn it had been Arthur's wife;
But I will leave her; shame forbids me beg
Of one so much resembles her.
MRS ART. Come hither, fellow! wherefore dost thou turn
Thy guilty looks and blushing face aside?
It seems thou hast not been brought up to this.
Y. ART. You say true, mistress; then for charity,
And for her sake whom you resemble most.
Pity my present want and misery.
MRS ART. It seems thou hast been in some better plight;
Sit down, I prythee: men, though they be poor,
Should not be scorn'd; to ease thy hunger, first
Eat these conserves; and now, I prythee, tell me
What thou hast been—thy fortunes, thy estate,
And what she was that I resemble most?
Y. ART. First, look that no man see or overhear us:
I think that shape was born to do me good. [Aside.]
MRS ART. Hast thou known one that did resemble me?
Y. ART. Ay, mistress; I cannot choose but weep
To call to mind the fortunes of her youth.
MRS ART. Tell me, of what estate or birth was she?
Y. ART, Born of good parents, and as well brought up;
Most fair, but not so fair as virtuous;
Happy in all things but her marriage;
Her riotous husband, which I weep to think,
By his lewd life, made them both miscarry.
MRS ART. Why dost thou grieve at their adversities?
Y. ART. O, blame me not; that man my kinsman was,
Nearer to me a kinsman could not be;
As near allied was that chaste woman too,
Nearer was never husband to his wife;
He whom I term my friend, no friend of mine,
Proving both mine and his own enemy,
Poison'd his wife—O, the time he did so!
Joyed at her death, inhuman slave to do so!
Exchang'd her love for a base strumpet's lust;
Foul wretch! accursed villain! to exchange so.
MRS ART. You are wise and blest, and happy to repent so:
But what became of him and his new wife?
Y. ART. O, hear the justice of the highest heaven:
This strumpet, in reward of all his love,
Pursues him for the death of his first wife;
And now the woful husband languisheth,
And flies abroad,[23] pursu'd by her fierce hate;
And now too late he doth repent his sin,
Ready to perish in his own despair,
Having no means but death to rid his care.
MRS ART. I can endure no more, but I must weep;
My blabbing tears cannot my counsel keep. [Aside.
Y. ART. Why weep you, mistress? if you had the heart
Of her whom you resemble in your face—
But she is dead, and for her death
The sponge of either eye
Shall weep red tears, till every vein is dry.
MRS ART. Why weep you, friend? your rainy drops pray keep;
Repentance wipes away the drops of sin.
Yet tell me, friend—he did exceeding ill,
A wife that lov'd and honour'd him to kill.
Yet say one like her, far more chaste than fair,
Bids him be of good comfort, not despair.
Her soul's appeased with his repentant tears,
Wishing he may survive her many years.
Fain would I give him money to supply
His present wants, but fearing he should fly,
And getting over to some foreign shore,
These rainy eyes should never see him more.
My heart is full, I can no longer stay,
But what I am, my love must needs bewray. [Aside.
Farewell, good fellow, and take this to spend;
Say, one like her commends her to your friend. [Exit.
Y. ART. No friend of mine. I was my own soul's foe,
To murther my chaste wife, that lov'd me so!
In life she lov'd me dearer than her life:
What husband here but would wish such a wife?
I hear the officers with hue and cry;
She saved my life but now, and now I die.
And welcome, death! I will not stir from hence;
Death I deserv'd, I'll die for this offence.
Enter BRABO, with OFFICERS, MISTRESS SPLAY, and HUGH.
BRA. Here is the murderer; and, Reason's man,
You have the warrant: sirs, lay hands on him;
Attach the slave, and lead him bound to death.
HUGH. No, by my faith, Master Brabo, you have the better heart, at least you should have; I am sure you have more iron and steel than I have; do you lay hands on him; I promise you I dare not.
BRA. Constables, forward; forward, officers;
I will not thrust my finger in the fire.
Lay hands on him, I say: why step you back?
I mean to be the hindmost, lest that any
Should run away, and leave the rest in peril.
Stand forward: are you not asham'd to fear?
Y. ART. Nay, never strive; behold, I yield myself.
I must commend your resolution
That, being so many and so weapon'd,
Dare not adventure on a man unarm'd.
Now, lead me to what prison you think best.
Yet use me well; I am a gentleman.
HUGH. Truly, Master Arthur, we will use you as well as heart can think; the justices sit to-day, and my master is chief: you shall command me.
BRA. What! hath he yielded? if he had withstood us,
This curtle-axe of mine had cleft his head;
Resist he durst not, when he once spied me.
Come, lead him hence: how lik'st thou this, sweet witch?
This fellow's death will make our mistress rich.
MRS SPLAY. I say, I care not who's dead or alive,
So by their lives or deaths we two may thrive.
HUGH. Come, bear him away.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
A Room, in Justice Season's House.
Enter JUSTICE REASON, OLD MASTER ARTHUR, and OLD MASTER LUSAM.
JUS. Old Master Arthur and Master Lusam, so
It is that I have heard both your complaints,
But understood neither, for, you know,
Legere et non intelligere negligere est.
O. ART. I come for favour, as a father should,
Pitying the fall and ruin of his son.
O. LUS. I come for justice, as a father should,
That hath by violent murder lost his daughter.
JUS. You come for favour, and you come for justice:
Justice with favour is not partial,
And, using that, I hope to please you both.
O. ART. Good Master Justice, think upon my son.
O. LUS. Good Master Justice, think upon my daughter.
JUS. Why, so I do; I think upon them both;
But can do neither of you good;
For he that lives must die, and she that's dead
Cannot be revived.
O. ART. Lusam, thou seek'st to rob me of my son,
My only son.
O. LUS. He robb'd me of my daughter, my only daughter.
JUS. And robbers are flat felons by the law.
O. ART. Lusam, I say thou art a blood-sucker,
A tyrant, a remorseless cannibal:
Old as I am, I'll prove it on thy bones.
O. LUS. Am I a blood-sucker or cannibal?
Am I a tyrant that do thirst for blood?
O. ART. Ay, if thou seek'st the ruin of my son,
Thou art a tyrant and a blood-sucker.
O. LUS. Ay, if I seek the ruin of thy son,
I am indeed.
O. ART. Nay, more, thou art a dotard;
And, in the right of my accused son,
I challenge thee the field. Meet me, I say,
To-morrow morning beside Islington,
And bring thy sword and buckler, if thou dar'st.
O. LUS. Meet thee with my sword and buckler?
There's my glove.
I'll meet thee, to revenge my daughter's death.
Call'st thou me dotard? Though these threescore years
I never handled weapon but a knife,
To cut my meat, yet will I meet thee there.
God's precious! call me dotard?
O. ART. I have cause,
Just cause, to call thee dotard, have I not?
O. LUS. Nay, that's another matter; have you cause?
Then God forbid that I should take exceptions
To be call'd dotard of one that hath cause.
JUS. My masters, you must leave this quarrelling, for quarrellers are never at peace; and men of peace, while they are at quiet, are never quarrelling: so you, whilst you fall into brawls, you cannot choose but jar. Here comes your son accused, and his wife the accuser; stand forth both. Hugh, be ready with your pen and ink to take their examinations and confessions.
Enter MISTRESS MARY, BRABO, YOUNG MASTER
ARTHUR, MISTRESS SPLAY, HUGH, and OFFICERS.
Y. ART. It shall not need; I do confess the deed,
Of which this woman here accuseth me;
I poison'd my first wife, and for that deed
I yield me to the mercy of the law.
O. LUS. Villain! thou mean'st my only daughter,
And in her death depriv'dst me of all joys.
Y. ART. I mean her. I do confess the deed;
And though my body taste the force of law,
Like an offender, on my knee I beg
Your angry soul will pardon me her death.
O. LUS. Nay, if he kneeling do confess the deed,
No reason but I should forgive her death.
JUS. But so the law must not be satisfied;
Blood must have blood, and men must have death;
I think that cannot be dispens'd withal.
MRS MA. If all the world else would forgive the deed,
Yet would I earnestly pursue the law.
Y. ART. I had a wife would not have us'd me so;
The wealth of Europe could not hire her tongue
To be offensive to my patient ears;
But, in exchanging her, I did prefer
A devil before a saint, night before day,
Hell before heaven, and dross before tried gold;
Never was bargain with such damage sold.
BRA. If you want witness to confirm the deed,
I heard him speak it; and that to his face,
Before this presence, I will justify;
I will not part hence, till I see him swing.
MRS SPLAY. I heard him too: pity but he should die,
And like a murderer be sent to hell.
To poison her, and make her belly swell!
MRS MA. Why stay you, then? give judgment on the slave,
Whose shameless life deserves a shameful grave.
Y. ART. Death's bitter pangs are not so full of grief
As this unkindness: every word thou speak'st
Is a sharp dagger thrust quite through my heart.
As little I deserve this at thy hands,
As my kind patient wife deserv'd of me:
I was her torment, God hath made thee mine;
Then wherefore at just plagues should I repine?
JUS. Where did'st thou buy this poison? for such drugs
Are felony for any man to sell.
Y. ART. I had the poison of Aminadab:
But, innocent man, he was not accessory
To my wife's death; I clear him of the deed.
JUS. No matter; fetch him, fetch him, bring him
To answer to this matter at the bar.
Hugh, take these officers and apprehend him.
BRA. I'll aid him too; the schoolmaster, I see,
Perhaps may hang with him for company.
Enter ANSELM and FULLER.
ANS. This is the day of Arthur's examination
And trial for the murder of his wife;
Let's hear how Justice Reason will proceed,
In censuring of his strict punishment.
FUL. Anselm, content; let's thrust in 'mong the throng.
Enter AMINADAB, brought in with OFFICERS.
AMIN. O Domine! what mean these knaves,
To lead me thus with bills and glaves?
O, what example would it be
To all my pupils for to see,
To tread their steps all after me,
If for some fault I hanged be;
Somewhat surely I shall mar,
If you bring me to the bar.
But peace; betake thee to thy wits,
For yonder Justice Reason sits.
JUS. Sir Dab, Sir Dab, here's one accuseth you,
To give him poison, being ill-employ'd:
Speak, how in this case you can clear yourself.
AMIN. Hei mihi! what should I say? the poison given I deny;
He took it perforce from my hands, and, Domine, why not?
I got it of a gentleman; he most freely gave it,
As he knew me; my meaning was only to have it.[24]
Y. ART. 'Tis true, I took it from this man perforce,
And snatch'd it from his hand by rude constraint,
Which proves him in this act not culpable.
JUS. Ay, but who sold the poison unto him?
That must be likewise known; speak, schoolmaster.
AMIN. A man verbosus, that was a fine generosus;
He was a great guller, his name I take to be Fuller;
See where he stands, that unto my hands convey'd a powder;
And, like a knave, sent her to her grave, obscurely to shroud her.
JUS. Lay hands on him; are you a poison-seller?
Bring him before us: sirrah, what say you?
Sold you a poison to this honest man?
FUL. I sold no poison, but I gave him one
To kill his rats?
JUS. Ha, ha! I smell a rat.
You sold him poison then to kill his rats?
The word to kill argues a murd'rous mind;
And you are brought in compass of the murder
So set him by, we will not hear him speak:
That Arthur, Fuller, and the schoolmaster,
Shall by the judges be examined.
ANS. Sir, if my friend may not speak for himself,
Yet let me his proceedings justify.
JUS. What's he that will a murther justify?
Lay hands on him, lay hands on him, I say;
For justifiers are all accessories,
And accessories have deserved to die.
Away with him! we will not hear him speak;
They all shall to the High Commissioners.
Enter MISTRESS ARTHUR.
MRS ART. Nay, stay them, stay them yet a little while!
I bring a warrant to the contrary;
And I will please all parties presently.
Y. ART. I think my wife's ghost haunts me to my death;
Wretch that I was, to shorten her life's breath!
O. ART. Whom do I see, my son's wife?
O. LUS. What, my daughter?
JUS. Is it not Mistress Arthur that we see,
That long since buried we suppos'd to be?
MRS ART. This man's condemn'd for pois'ning of his wife;
His poison'd wife yet lives, and I am she;
And therefore justly I release his bands:
This man, for suff'ring him these drugs to take,
Is likewise bound, release him for my sake:
This gentleman that first the poison gave,
And this his friend, to be releas'd I crave:
Murther there cannot be where none is kill'd;
Her blood is sav'd, whom you suppos'd was spill'd.
Father-in-law, I give you here your son,
The act's to do which you suppos'd was done.
And, father, now joy in your daughter's life,
Whom heaven hath still kept to be Arthur's wife.
O. ART. O, welcome, welcome, daughter! now I see
God by his power hath preserved thee.
O. LUS. And 'tis my wench, whom I suppos'd was dead;
My joy revives, and my sad woe is fled.
Y. ART. I know not what I am, nor where I am;
My soul's transported to an ecstasy,
For hope and joy confound my memory.
MRS MA. What do I see? lives Arthur's wife again?
Nay then I labour for his death in vain. [Aside.
BRA. What secret force did in her nature lurk,
That in her soul the poison would not work? [Aside.
MRS SPLAY. How can it be the poison took no force?
She lives with that which would have kill'd a horse! [Aside.
MRS ART. Nay, shun me not; be not asham'd at all;
To heaven, not me, for grace and pardon fall.
Look on me, Arthur; blush not at my wrongs.
Y. ART. Still fear and hope my grief and woe prolongs.
But tell me, by what power thou didst survive?
With my own hands I temper'd that vile draught,
That sent thee breathless to thy grandsire's grave,
If that were poison I receiv'd of him.
AMIN. That ego nescio, but this dram
Receiv'd I of this gentleman;
The colour was to kill my rats,
But 'twas my own life to despatch.
FUL. Is it even so? then this ambiguous doubt
No man can better than myself decide;
That compound powder was of poppy made and mandrakes,
Of purpose to cast one into a sleep,
To ease the deadly pain of him whose leg
Should be saw'd off;
That powder gave I to the schoolmaster.
AMIN. And that same powder, even that idem,
You took from me, the same, per fidem!
Y. ART. And that same powder I commix'd with wine,
Our godly knot of wedlock to untwine.
O. ART. But, daughter, who did take thee from thy grave?
O. LUS. Discourse it, daughter.
ANS. Nay, that labour save;
Pardon me, Master Arthur, I will now
Confess the former frailty of my love.
Your modest wife with words I tempted oft;
But neither ill I could report of you,
Nor any good I could forge for myself,
Would win her to attend to my request;
Nay, after death I lov'd her, insomuch
That to the vault where she was buried
My constant love did lead me through the dark,
There ready to have ta'en my last farewell.
The parting kiss I gave her I felt warm;
Briefly, I bare her to my mother's house,
Where she hath since liv'd the most chaste and true,
That since the world's creation eye did view.
Y. ART. My first wife, stand you here: my second, there,
And in the midst, myself; he that will choose
A good wife from a bad, come learn of me,
That have tried both, in wealth and misery.
A good wife will be careful of her fame,
Her husband's credit, and her own good name;
And such art thou. A bad wife will respect
Her pride, her lust, and her good name neglect;
And such art thou. A good wife will be still
Industrious, apt to do her husband's will;
But a bad wife, cross, spiteful and madding,
Never keep home, but always be a-gadding;
And such art thou. A good wife will conceal
Her husband's dangers, and nothing reveal
That may procure him harm; and such art thou.
But a bad wife corrupts chaste wedlock's vow.
On this hand virtue, and on this hand sin;
This who would strive to lose, or this to win?
Here lives perpetual joy, here burning woe;
Now, husbands, choose on which hand you will go.
Seek virtuous wives, all husbands will be blest;
Fair wives are good, but virtuous wives are best.
They that my fortunes will peruse, shall find
No beauty's like the beauty of the mind.
[Exeunt.