ACT V., SCENE I.
Enter Subtle, with Husband.
Sub. She is not to be cast.
Hus. It cannot be:
Had you a wife, and I were in your case,
I would be hang'd even at the chamber-door,
Where I attempted, but I'd lay her flat.
Sub. Why, tell me truly, would it please you best,
To have her remain chaste or conquered?
Hus. O friend, it would do me good at the heart
To have her overcome: she does so brag,
And stand upon her chastity, forsooth.
Sub. Why, then, in plain terms, sir, the fort is mine:
Your wife has yielded; up-tails is her song.
The deed is done. Come now, be merry, man.
Hus. Is the deed done indeed? Come, come, you jest.
Has my wife yielded? is up-tails her song?
Faith, come to[132] prose: how got you to the matter first, ha?
Pish! you are so bashful now——
Sub. Why, by my troth, I'll tell you, because you are my friend; otherwise you must note, it is a great hurt to the art of whoremastery to discover; besides, the skill was never mine o' th' price.
Hus. Very good; on, sir.
Sub. At the first she was horrible stiff against me; then, sir, I took her by the hand, which I kissed.
Hus. Good, sir.
Sub. And I called her pretty rogue, and I thrust my finger betwixt her breasts, and I made lips. At last, I pulled her by the chin to me, and I kissed her.
Hus. Hum!—very good.
Sub. So at the first she kissed very strangely, close and untoward. Then said I to her, think but upon the wrongs, the intolerable wrongs, the rogue your husband does you.
Hus. Ay, that was very good: what said she to you then, sir?
Sub. Nay, I went on. First, quoth I, think how he hath used you—left you no means, given all your clothes to his punks; struck you, turned your grey eyes into black ones, but yet——
Hus. A pretty conceit!
Sub. Quoth I, these things are nothing in the rascal: think but what a base whoremaster the rascal is.
Hus. Did you call me rascal so often, are you sure?
Sub. Yes, and oftener; for, said I, none comes amiss to the rogue. I have known him, quoth I, do three lousy beggars under hedges in the riding of ten mile, and I swore this too.
Hus. 'Twas very well; but you did lie. On, pray.
Sub. Pish! one must lie a little. Now, sir, by this time she began to kiss somewhat more openly and familiarly, her resistance began to slacken, and my assault began to stiffen. The more her bulwark decayed, the more my battery fortified. At last, sir, a little fumbling being passed to make the conquest more difficult, she perceiving my artillery[133] mounted, falls me flat upon her back, cries me out aloud—
Alas! I yield. Use me not roughly, friend;
My fort that, like Troy town, ten years hath stood
Besieg'd and shot at, did remain unwon;
But now 'tis conquer'd. So the deed was done.
Hus. Then came the hottest service. Forward with your tale, sir.
Sub. Nay,
Cætera quis nescit? lassi requievimus ambo:
Proveniant medii sic mihi sæpe dies.[134]
Hus. Which is as much as to say I am a cuckold in all languages! But sure, 'tis not so? it is impossible my wife should yield.
Sub. Heyday! ev'n now it was impossible she should hold out, and now it is impossible she should yield. Stay you but here, and be an ear-witness to what follows. I'll fetch your wife. [Aside.] I know he will not stay.
[Exit.
Hus. Good faith, sir, but he will.
I do suspect some knavery in this.
Here will I hide myself; when thought as gone,
If they do ought unfitting, I will call
Witness, and straightway sue [for] a divorce.
[Aside. Exit.
Enter Wife and Subtle.
Sub. I knew he would not stay. Now, noble mistress,
I claim your promise.
Wife. What was that, good servant?
Sub. That you would lie with me.
Wife. If with any man—
But, prythee, first consider with thyself,
If I should yield to thee, what a load thy conscience
Would bear about it; for I wish quick thunder
May strike me, if I yet have lost the truth,
Or whiteness of the hand I gave in church:
And 'twill not be thy happiness (as thou think'st)
That thou alone shouldst make a woman fall,
That did resist all else; but to thy soul
A bitter corrosive, that thou didst stain
Virtue that else had stood immaculate.
Nor speak I this as yielding unto thee,
For 'tis not in thy power, wert thou the sweet'st
Of nature's children and the happiest,
To conquer me, nor in mine own to yield;
And thus it is with every pious wife.
Thy daily railing at my absent husband
Makes me endure thee worse; for let him do
The most preposterous, ill-relishing things.
To me they seem good, since my husband does 'em.
Nor am I to revenge or govern him:
And thus it should be with all virtuous wives.
Sub. Pox o' this virtue and this chastity!
Do you [not] know, fair mistress, a young gentleman
About this town called Bold? Where did he lie
Last night, sweet mistress? O, O! are you catch'd?
I saw him slip out of the house this morn,
As naked as this truth; and for this cause
I have told your husband that you yielded to me,
And he, I warrant you, will blaze it thoroughly.
As good do now, then, as be thought to do.
Wife. No, 'twill not be yet. Thou injurious man!
How wilt thou right me in my husband's thoughts,
That on a false surmise and spite hast told
A tale to breed incurable discontent?
Bold was that old wench that did serve the widow,
And thinking by this way to gain her love,
Miss'd of his purpose, and was thus cashier'd;
Nor cares she to proclaim it to the world.
Sub. Zounds! I have wrong'd you, mistress, on my knees
[Kneels.
I ask you pardon, and will nevermore
Attempt your purity, but neglect all things
Till that foul wrong I have bred in your knight
I have expell'd, and set your loves aright.
Enter Husband.
Hus. Which now is done already. Madam, wife,
[Kneels.
Upon my knees with weeping eyes, heav'd hands,
I ask thy pardon. O sweet, virtuous creature!
I prythee, break my head.
Wife. Rise, rise, sir, pray.
You have done no wrong to me—at least, I think so:
Heaven hath prevented all my injury.
I do forgive, and marry you anew.
Come, we are all invited to the weddings:
The Lady Honour and the old rich Count,
Young Bold unto another gentlewoman:
We and the widow are invited thither.
Embrace and love henceforth more really,
Not so like worldlings.
Hus. Here then ends all strife.
Thus false friends are made true by a true wife.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.[135]
Enter old Count, wrapped in furs; the Lady Honour, dressed like a bride; the Lord Proudly, Welltried, Bold, leading Feesimple like a lady masqued; Husband, Wife, Subtle, Widow; to them Brother, with a letter;[136] Seldom with his wife.
Bro. Health and all joy unto this fair assembly.
My brother, who last tide is gone for France,
A branch of willow feathering his hat,
Bad me salute you, lady, and present you
With this same letter written in his blood.
He prays no man, for his sake, evermore
To credit woman, nor no lady ever
To believe man; so either sex shall rest
Uninjur'd by the other. This is all,
And this I have deliver'd.
Proudly. Ay, and well.
You pronounce rarely, did you never play?
Bro. Yes, that I have—the fool, as some lords do.
Well. Set forward there.
Count. O, O, O! a pox o' this cold!
Well. A cold o' this pox, you might say, I am afraid.
Maid. How full of ghastly wounds this letter shows.
O, O!
[Swoons.
Proudly. Look to my sister.
Bold. 'Sheart! the lady swoons.
Wife. Strong water there.
Fee. If strong breath would recover her, I am for her.
Count. Alas, good lady! hum, hum, hum.
[Coughs perpetually.
Sub. He has fetch'd her again with coughing.
Maid. Convey me to my bed; send for a priest
And a physician; your bride, I fear,
Instead of epithalamions shall need
A dirge or epitaph. O, lead me in:
My body dies for my soul's perjur'd sin.
[Exeunt Maid, Grace, Wife, Husband, Subtle.
Bold. Hymen comes towards us in a mourning robe.
Well. I hope, friend, we shall have the better day.
Proudly. I'll fetch the parson and physician.
[Exit Lord Proudly.
Bro. They are both ready for you.
[Exit Brother.
Well. Madam, this is the gentlewoman
Who, something bashful, does desire your pardon,
That she does not unmask.
Wid. Good Master Welltried,
I would not buy her face; and for her manners,
If they were worse, they shall not displease me.
Well. I thank your ladyship.
Fee. Look how the old ass, my father, stands: he looks like the bear in the play; he has killed the lady with his very sight.[137] As God help me, I have the most to do to forbear unmasking me, that I might tell him his own, as can be.
Bold. Fie! by no means. The widow comes towards you.
Count. O, O, O, O!
Wid. Servant, God give you joy; and, gentlewoman
Or lady, as full joy I wish to you:
Nor doubt that I will hinder you your love,
But here am come to do all courtesy
To your fair self, and husband that shall be.
Fee. I thank you heartily.
Well. 'Sheart! speak smaller, man.
Fee. I thank you heartily.
Count. You're going to this gear too, Master Bold?
Um, um, um!
Bold. Not to your coughing[138] gear,
My lord. Though I be not so old or rich
As your lordship, yet I love a young wench as well.
Well. As well as my lord? nay by my faith,
That you do not love a young wench as well as he:
I wonder you will be unmannerly to say so.
Count. Faith, Master Welltried, troth is I love them well, but they love not me, um, um. You see what ill-luck I have with them, um, um. A pox o' this cold, still say I.
Well. Where got you this cold, my lord? it can get in nowhere, that I can see, but at your nostrils or eyes; all the other parts are so barricadoed with fur.
Fee. It got
In at his eyes, and made that birdlime there,
Where Cupid's wings do hang entangled.
Count. Is this your wife, that, um, um, um—shall be?
Master Bold, I'll be so bold as kiss her.
[Widow and Bold whisper aside.
Fee. Sir, forbear: I have one bold enough to kiss my lips. O old coxcomb! kiss thine own natural son: 'tis worse than a Justice's lying with his own daughter. But, Master Welltried, when will the widow break this matter to me?
[Count sits in a chair, and falls asleep.
Well. Not till the very close of all: she dissembles it yet, because my lord, your father, is here, and her other suitor Bold.
Fee. That's all one; he's o' th' plot o' my side.
Wid. 'Tis needless, Master Bold; but I will do
Anything you require to satisfy you.
Why should you doubt I will forbid the banns,
For so your friend here told me? I should rather
Doubt that you will not marry.
Bold. Madam, by heaven,
As fully I am resolv'd to marry now,
And will too, if you do not hinder it,
As ever lover was; only because
The world has taken notice of some passage
'Twixt you and me, and then to satisfy
My sweetheart here, who (poor soul!) is afraid,
To have some public disgrace put upon her,
I do require some small thing at your hands.
Wid. Well, I will do it; and this profess besides;
Married, you shall as welcome be to me
As mine own brother; and yourself, fair lady,
Even as myself, both to my board and bed.
Well. Ah, ah! how like you that?
Fee. Now she begins.
Abundant thanks unto your widowhood.
Zounds! my father's asleep on's wedding-day:
I wonder'd, where his cough was all this while.
Enter Ingen, like a doctor: a Parson, Brother, Lord Proudly, Seldom, Mistress Seldom, Husband, Wife, and Subtle.
Ingen. I pray, forbear the chamber: noise does hurt her;
Her sickness I guess rather of the mind
Than of her body, for her pulse beats well;
Her vital functions not decay'd a whit,
But have their natural life and operation.
My lord, be cheer'd, I have an ingredient
About me shall make her well, I doubt not.
In, master parson: it shall be yours to[139] pray;
The soul's physician should have still the way.
[Exit Ingen; Parson shuts the door.
Wid. How cheers she, pray?
Wife. In troth, exceeding ill.
Mrs Sel. A very weak woman indeed she is, and surely I think cannot 'scape it.
Hus. Did you mark how she eyed the physician?
Wife. O God, ay, she is very loth to die.
Mrs Sel. Ay; that's ne'er the better sign, I can tell you.
Sub. And when the parson came to her, she turned
Away, and still let the physician hold
Her by the hand.
Bold. But see what thought the bridegroom takes.
My conscience knows, now, this is
A most preposterous match; yet for the commodity,
We wink at all inconveniency.
My lord! my lord!
Count. Um, um, um! I beshrew you for waking of me; now shall I have such a fit of coughing, um, um!—
Bold. O hapless wife, that shall have thee, that either must let thee sleep continually, or be kept waking herself by the cough.
Wid. You have a proper gentleman to your son, my lord: he were fitter for this young lady than you.
Well. D'ye mark that again?
Fee. O sweet widow!
Count. He a wife! he a fool's head of his own.
Fee. No, of my father's.
Count. What should he do with a —— um, um!
Wife. What, with a cough? why, he would spit, and that's more than you can do.
Proudly. Your bride, my lord, is dead.
Count. Marry, ev'n God be with her; grief will not help it: um, um, um!
Bro. A most excellent spouse.
Proudly. How fares she, master doctor?
Zounds! what's here?
Bold, Wid., Well., Fee. Heyday!
Hus., Wife, Sel., Mrs Sel., Sub. How now?
[Looking in at the window.
Fee. Look, look! the parson joins the doctor's hand and hers: now the doctor kisses her, by this light! [Omnes whoop.] Now goes his gown off. Heyday! he has red breeches on. Zounds! the physician is got o' th' top of her: belike, it is the mother she has. Hark! the bed creaks.[140]
Proudly. 'Sheart, the door's fast! break 'em open! We are betrayed.
Bro. No breaking open doors: he that stirs first,
[Draws and holds out a pistol.
I'll pop a leaden pill into his guts,
Shall purge him quite away. No haste, good friends:
When they have done what's fit, you shall not need
To break the door; they'll open it themselves.
[A curtain drawn, a bed discovered: Ingen with his sword in his hand and a pistol: the lady in her petticoat: the Parson.
Proudly. Thy blood, base villain, shall answer this.
[The brothers set back to back.
I'll dye thy nuptial bed in thy heart's gore.
Ingen. Come, come, my lord; 'tis not so easily done.
You know it is not. Forgive[141] this my attempt
Upon your sister; before God and man
She was my wife, and ne'er a bedrid gout
Shall have my wench to get diseases on.
Proudly. Well may'st thou term her so, that has consented
Even with her will to be dishonoured.
Ingen. Not so, yet have I lain with her—
Maid. But first,
Witness this priest, we both were married.
Priest. True it is, Domine;
Their contract's run into a marriage,
And that, my lord, into a carriage.
Proudly. I will undo thee, priest.
Priest. It is too late. I am undone
Already [by] wine and tobacco. I defy thee,
Thou temporal lord: perdy, thou never shalt
Keep me in jail, and hence springs my reason:
My act is neither felony nor treason.
Fee. Ay, sir; but you do not know what kindred she may have.
Omnes. Come, come, there is no remedy.
Wife. And weigh't right,
In my opinion, my honour'd lord,
And everybody's else, this is a match,
Fitter ten thousand times than your intent.
Omnes. Most certain 'tis.
Wid. Besides, this gentleman
Your brother-in-law['s] well-parted and fair-mean'd;
And all this come about (you must conceive)
By your own sister's wit, as well as his.
Ingen. Come, come, 'tis but getting of me knighted, my lord, and I shall become your brother well enough.
Proudly. Brother, your hand. Lords may have projects still,
But there's a greater Lord will have his will.
Bold. This is despatch, Now, madam, is the time,
For I long to be at it. Your hand, sweetheart.
Fee. Now, boys.
Wid. My lord and gentlemen, I crave your witness,
To what I now shall utter. 'Twixt this gentleman and myself
There have been some love-passages, from which
Here I do free him, and [he] take this lady——[142]
Well. La ye! and pray him take this lady.
Wid. Which with a mother's love I give to him,
And wish all joy may crown their marriage.
Bold. Nay, madam, yet she is not satisfied.
[Bold gives her a ring, and she puts it on her thumb.
Wid. Further, before ye all I take this ring,
As an assumpsit, by the virtue of which
I bind myself in all my lands and goods,
That in his choice I'll be no hindrance;
Or by forbidding banns, or claiming him
Myself for mine, but let the match go on
Without my check, which he intendeth now:
And once again I say, I bind myself.
Bold. Then, once again I say, widow, thou'rt mine!
Priest, marry us: this match I did intend:
Ye all are witnesses; if thou hinder it,
Widow, your lands and goods are forfeit mine.
Wid. Ha! nay, take me too, since there's no remedy.
Your widow (without goods) sells scurvily.
Omnes. Whoop! God give you joy.
Count. 'Slight! I am cosened of all sides; I had good hope of the widow myself; but now I see everybody leaves me, saving um, um, um!
Bold. Troth, my lord, and that will stick by you, I warrant.
Wid. But how, sir, shall we salve this gentlewoman?
Bold. Hang her, whore.
Well. Fie! you are too uncivil.
Fee. Whore in thy face, I do defy thy taunts.
Bold. Nay, hold, fair lady: now I think upon't,
The old Count has no wife; let's make a match.
Omnes. If he be so contented.
Count. With all my heart.
Bold. Then kiss your spouse.
Count. 'Sfoot! she has a beard. How now! my son?
Omnes. 'Tis the Lord Feesimple!
[Feesimple unmasks.
Fee. Father, lend me your sword. You and I are made a couple of fine fools, are we not? If I were not valiant now, and meant to beat 'em all, here would lie a simple disgrace upon us, a Feesimple one, indeed. Mark now, what I'll say to 'em. D'ye hear me, my masters? Damn me, ye are all the son of a whore, and ye lie, and I will make it good with my sword. This is called roaring, father.
Sub. I'll not meddle with you, sir.
Proudly. You are my blood.
Well. And I flesh'd you, you know.
Bold. And I have a charge coming, I must not fight now.
Fee. Has either of you anything to say to me?
Hus. Not we, sir.
Fee. Then have I something to say to you.
Have you anything to say to me?
Bro. Yes, marry have I, sir.
Fee. Then I have nothing to say to you, for that's the fashion. Father, if you will come away with your cough, do. Let me see, how many challenges I must get writ. You shall hear on me, believe it.
Proudly. Nay, we'll not now part angry: stay the feasts,
That must attend the weddings. You shall stay.
Fee. Why, then, all friends. I thought you would not have had the manners to bid us stay dinner neither.
Hus. Then all are friends: and lady-wife, I crown
Thy virtues with this wreath, that 't may be said,
There's a good wife.
Bold. A widow.
Ingen. And a maid.
[They set garlands on their heads.
Wife. Yet mine is now approv'd the happiest life,
Since each of you hath chang'd to be a wife.
[Exeunt.
[GREEN'S TU QUOQUE;]
OR,