Ser. See, see, my Mistriss.
Lon. Let's observe their greeting.
Wife. Unto your will, as every good Wife ought,
I have turn'd all my thoughts, and now am ready.
Gent. O Wife, I am not worthy to kiss the least
Of all thy toes, much less thy Thumb,
Which yet I would be bold with; all thy counsel
Hath been to me Angelical, but mine to thee
Hath been most dirty, like my mind:
Dear Duchess I must stay.
Wife. What are you mad, to make me
Dress, and undress, turn and wind me,
Because you find me plyant? said I not
The whole world should not alter me, if once
I were resolv'd? and now you call me Duchess:
Why what's the matter?
Gent. Loe a Knight doth kneel.
Wife. A Knight?
Gent. A Lord.
Wife. A Fool.
Gent. I say doth kneel an Earl, a Duke.
Long. In Drawers.
Bew. Without shoes.
Wife. Sure you [are] lunatick.
Ser. No, honoured Duchess,
If you dare but believe your servants truth,
I know he is a Duke.
Long. God save his Grace.
Wife. I ask your Graces pardon.
Gent. Then I rise,
And here, in token that all strife shall end,
'Twixt thee and me, I let my drawers fall,
And to thy hands I do deliver them:
Which signifies, that in all acts and speeches,
From this time forth, my Wife shall wear the breeches.
Ser. An honorable composition. [Exeunt omnes.
Actus Tertius. [Scæna Prima.]
Enter Cozen, and Jaques.
Coz. Shall I believe thee, Jaques?
Ja. Sir you may.
Coz. Didst thou not dreame?
Ja. I did not.
Coz. Nor imagine?
Ja. Neither of both: I saw him great and mighty,
I saw the Monsieurs bow, and heard them cry,
Good health and fortune to my Lord the Duke.
Coz. A Duke art sure? a Duke?
Ja. I am sure a Duke,
And so sure, as I know my self for Jaques.
Coz. Yet the Sun may dazel; Jaques, Was it not
Some leane Commander of an angry Block-house
To keep the Fleemish Eele-boats from invasion,
Or some bold Baron able to dispend
His fifty pounds a year, and meet the foe
Upon the Kings command, in gilded canvas,
And do his deeds of worth? or was it not
Some place of gain, as Clerk to the great Band
Of maribones, that people call the Switzers?
Men made of Beufe, and Sarcenet?
Ja. Is a Duke his chamber hung with Nobles like a presence?
Coz. I am something wavering in my faith;
Would you would settle me, and swear 'tis so,
Is he a Duke indeed?
Ja. I swear he is.
Coz. I am satisfied, he is my Kinsman. Jaques,
And I his poor unworthy Cozen.
Ja. True, Sir.
Coz. I might have been a Duke too, I had means,
A wife as fair as his, and as wise as his;
And could have brookt the Court as well as his,
And laid about her for her husbands honor:
O Jaques, had I ever dreamt of this,
I had prevented him.
Ja. Faith Sir it came
Above our expectation, we were wise
Only in seeking to undoe this honor,
Which shewed our dung-hill breeding and our durt.
Coz. But tell me Jaques,
Why could we not perceive? what dull Divel
Wrought us to cross this noble course, perswading
'Twould be his overthrow? ['fore me] a Courtier
Is he that knows all, Jaques, and does all,
'Tis as his noble Grace hath often said,
And very wisely, Jaques, we are fools,
And understand just nothing.
Ja. I, as we were, I confess it.
But rising with our great Master,
We shall be call'd to knowledge with our places,
'Tis nothing to be wise, not thus much there,
There's not the least of the billet dealers,
Nor any of the Pastry, or the Kitchin,
But have it in measure delicate.
Coz. Methinks this greatness of the Dukes my Cozens,
(I ask you mercy, Jaques, that near name
Is too familiar for me) should give promise
Of some great benefits to his attendants.
Ja. I have a suit my self, and it is sure,
Or I mistake my ends much.
Coz. What is't Jaques,
May I not crave the place?
Ja. Yes, Sir, you shall,
'Tis to be but his Graces Secretary,
Which is my little all, and my ambition,
Till my known worth shall take me by the hand,
And set me higher; how the fates may do
In this poor thread of life, is yet uncertain;
I was not born I take it for a Trencher,
Nor to espouse my Mistriss Dairy-maid.
Couz. I am resolv'd my Wife shall up to Court;
I'll furnish her, that is a speeding course,
And cannot chuse but breed a mighty fortune;
What a fine youth was I, to let him start,
And get the rise before me! I'll dispatch,
And put my self in Moneys.
Ja. Mass 'tis true,
And now you talke of Money; Sir, my business
For taking those Crowns must be dispatcht:
This little plot in the Countrey lies most fit
To do his Grace such serviceable uses,
I must about it.
Couz. Yet, before you goe,
Give me your hand, and bear my humble service
To the great Duke your Master, and his Duchess,
And live your self in favor: say my Wife
Shall there attend them shortly, so farewell.
Ja. I'll see you mounted, Sir.
Couz. It may not be,
Your place is far above it, spare your self,
And know I am your servant, fare ye well. [Exit Couzen.
Ja. Sir I shall rest to be commanded by you,
This place of Secretary will not content me,
I must be more and greater: let me see;
To be a Baron is no such great matter
As people take it: for say I were a Count,
I am still an under-person to this Duke,
Which methinks sounds but harshly: but a Duke?
O I am strangely taken, 'tis a Duke
Or nothing, I'll advise upon't, and see
What may be done by wit and industry. [Exit.
Enter Wife, Longoveil, Bewford, Servants.
Wife. It must be carried closely with a care
That no man speak unto him, or come near him,
Without our private knowledge, or be made
Afore-hand to our practice:
My good husband,
I shall entreat you now to stay a while,
And prove a noble coxcomb.
Gentlemen,
Your counsel and advice about this carriage.
Ser. Alas good man, I do begin to mourn
His dire Massacre: what a persecution
Is pouring down upon him! sure he is sinful.
Long. Let him be kept in's chamber under shew
Of state and dignity, and no man suffer'd
To see his noble face, or have access,
But we that are Conspirators.
Bew. Or else down with him into the Countrey amongst his Tenants,
There he may live far longer in his greatness,
And play the fool in pomp amongst his fellows.
Wife. No, he shall play the fool in the City, and stay,
I will not lose the greatness of this jest,
That shall be given to my wit, for the whole Revenues.
Ser. Then thus wee'll have a guard about his person,
That no man come too near him, and our selves
Alwayes in company; have him into the City
To see his face swell; whilst, in divers corners,
Some of our own appointing shall be ready
To cry heaven bless your Grace, long live your Grace.
Wife. Servant, your counsel's excellent good,
And shall be follow'd, 'twill be rarely strange
To see him stated thus, as though he went
A shroving through the City, or intended
To set up some new [stake]:
I shall not hold
From open laughter, when I hear him cry,
Come hither my sweet Duchess: let me kiss
Thy gracious lips: for this will be his phrases?
I fear me nothing but his legs will break
Under his mighty weight of such a greatness.
Bew. Now me thinks dearest Lady you are too cruel;
His very heart will freeze in knowing this.
Wife. No, no, the man was never of such deepness,
To make conceit his Master: Sir, I'll assure ye
He will out-live twenty such pageants.
Were he but my Cozen, or my Brother,
And such a desperate killer of his fortune,
In this belief he should dye, though it cost me
A thousand Crowns a day to hold it up;
Or were I not known his wife, and so to have
An equal feeling of this ill he suffers,
He should be thus till all the Boyes i'th' Town
Made sute to weare his badges in their hats,
And walk before his Grace with sticks and nose-gayes,
We Married Women hold—
Ser. 'Tis well, no more.
The Duke is entring, set [you[r] faces right,
And bow like Countrey Prologues: here he comes.
Make room afore, the Duke is entring.
Enter Duke.
Long. The choisest fortunes wait upon our Duke.
Ser. And give him all content and happiness.
Bew. Let his great name live to the end of time.
Duke. We thank you, and are pleas'd to give you notice
We shall at fitter times wait on your Loves,
Till when, be near Us.
Longv. 'Tis a valiant purge, and works extreamly;
'Thas delivered him
Of all Right worshipful and gentle humors,
And left his belly full of nobleness.
Du. It pleased the King my Master,
For sundry vertues not unknown to him,
And the all-seeing state, to lend his hand,
And raise me to this Eminence, how this
May seem to other Men, or stir the minds
Of such as are my fellow Peers, I know not,
I would desire their loves in just designs.
Wife. Now by my faith he does well, very well:
Beshrew my heart I have not seen a better,
Of a raw fellow, that before this day
Never rehearst his state: 'tis marvellous well.
Ser. Is he not Duke indeed, see how he looks
As if his spirit were a last, or two
Above his veins, and stretcht his noble hide.
Long. Hee's high-brac't like a Drum, pray God he break not.
Bew. Why let him break, there's but a Calves-skin lost.
Long. May it please your Grace to see the City,
'Twill be to the minds and much contentment
Of the doubtful people.
Du. I am determin'd so, till my return
I leave my honour'd Dutchess to her chamber.
Be careful of your health, I pray you be so.
Ser. Your Grace shall suffer us your humble servants
To give attendance, fit so great a person
Upon your body.
Du. I am pleased so.
Long. Away good Bewford, raise a guard sufficient
To keep him from the reach of Tongues, be quick;
And do you hear, remember how the streets
Must be dispos'd with, for cries, and salutations.
Your Grace determines not to see the King—
Du. Not yet, I shall be ready ten dayes hence
To kiss his Highness hand, and give him thanks,
As it is fit I should for his great bounty.
Set forward Gentlemen.
Groom. Room for the Duke there. [Exeunt Duke and Train.
Wife. 'Tis fit he should have room to shew his mightiness,
He swells so with his poyson,
'Tis better to reclaim ye thus, than make
A sheeps-head of you, It had been but your due;
But I have mercy Sir, and mean to reclaim you
By a directer course.
That Woman is not worthy of a Soul
That has the sovereign power to rule her husband,
And gives her title up, so long provided
As there be fair play, and his state not wrong'd.
Enter Shattillion.
Shat. I would be glad to know whence this new Duke springs,
The people buz abroad; or by what title
He receiv'd his dignity, 'tis very strange
There should be such close jugling in the State,
But I am ty'd to silence, yet a day
May come, and soon to perfect all these doubts.
Wife. It is the mad Shattillion by my Soul,
I suffer much for this poor Gentleman;
I'll speak to him, may be he yet knows me.
Monsieur Shattilion.
Shat. Can you give me reason from whence
This great Duke sprang that walks abroad?
Wife. Even from the King himself.
Shot. As you are a Woman, I think you may be cover'd?
Yet your prayer would do no harm good Woman.
Wife. God preserve him.