ACT 4 SCENE I
[Enter] TRUEWIT, CLERIMONT.
TRUEWIT
Was there ever poor bridegroom so tormented? Or man, indeed?
CLERIMONT
I have not read of the like in the chronicles of the land.
TRUEWIT
Sure, he cannot but go to a place of rest after all this purgatory.
CLERIMONT
He may presume it, I think.
TRUEWIT
The spitting, the coughing, the laughter, the neezing, the farting, dancing, noise of the music, and her masculine and loud commanding and urging the whole family, makes him think he has married a Fury.
CLERIMONT
And she carries it up bravely.
TRUEWIT
Ay, she takes any occasion to speak: that’s the height on’t.
CLERIMONT
And how soberly Dauphine labours to satisfy him that it was none of his plot!
TRUEWIT
And has almost brought him to the faith i’the article.
[Enter DAUPHINE.] Here he comes.−Where is he now? What’s become of him, Dauphine?
DAUPHINE
Oh, hold me up a little, I shall go away i’the jest else. He has got on his whole nest of nightcaps, and locked himself up i’the top o’the house, as high as ever he can climb from the noise. I peeped in at a cranny and saw him sitting over a cross-beam o’the roof, like him o’ the saddler’s horse in Fleet Street, upright; and he will sleep there.
CLERIMONT
But where are your Collegiates?
DAUPHINE
Withdrawn with the bride in private.
TRUEWIT
Oh, they are instructing her i’the college grammar. If she have grace with them, she knows all their secrets instantly.
CLERIMONT
Methinks the lady Haughty looks well today, for all my dispraise of her in the morning. I think, I shall come about to thee again, Truewit.
TRUEWIT
Believe it, I told you right. Women ought to repair the losses time and years have made i’ their features with dressings. And an intelligent woman, if she know by herself the least defect, will be most curious to hide it; and it becomes her. If she be short, let her sit much, lest when she stands she be thought to sit. If she have an ill foot, let her wear her gown the longer, and her shoe the thinner. If a fat hand and scald nails, let her carve the less, and act in gloves. If a sour breath, let her never discourse fasting, and always talk at her distance. If she have black and rugged teeth, let her offer the less at laughter, especially if she laugh wide and open.
CLERIMONT
Oh, you shall have some women, when they laugh, you would think they brayed, it is so rude, and−
TRUEWIT
Ay, and others, that will stalk i’ their gait like an ostrich, and take huge strides. I cannot endure such a sight. I love measure i’n the feet and number i’n the voice: they are gentlenesses that oftentimes draw no less than the face.
DAUPHINE
How cam’st thou to study these creatures so exactly? I would thou wouldst make me a proficient.
TRUEWIT
Yes, but you must leave to live i’your chamber, then, a month together upon Amadis de Gaula or Don Quixote, as you are wont, and come abroad where the matter is frequent, to court, to tiltings, public shows and feasts, to plays, and church sometimes: thither they come to show their new tires too, to see, and to be seen. In these places a man shall find whom to love, whom to play with, whom to touch once, whom to hold ever. The variety arrests his judgment. A wench to please a man comes not down dropping from the ceiling, as he lies on his back droning a tobacco-pipe. He must go where she is.
DAUPHINE
Yes, and be never the near.
TRUEWIT
Out, heretic! That diffidence makes thee worthy it should be so.
CLERIMONT
He says true to you, Dauphine.
TRUEWIT
A man should not doubt to overcome any woman. Think he can vanquish’em, and he shall; for though they deny, their desire is to be tempted. Penelope herself cannot hold out long. Ostend, you saw, was taken at last. You must persever and hold to your purpose. They would solicit us, but that they are afraid. Howsoever, they wish in their hearts we should solicit them. Praise’em, flatter ’em, you shall never want eloquence or trust; even the chastest delight to feel themselves that way rubbed. With praises you must mix kisses too. If they take them, they’ll take more. Though they strive, they would be overcome.
CLERIMONT
Oh, but a man must beware of force.
TRUEWIT
It is to them an acceptable violence, and has ofttimes the place of the greatest courtesy. She that might have been forced, and you let her go free without touching, though then she seem to thank you, will ever hate you after; and glad i’ the face, is assuredly sad at the heart.
CLERIMONT
But all women are not to be taken all ways.
TRUEWIT
’Tis true. No more than all birds or all fishes. If you appear learned to an ignorant wench, or jocund to a sad, or witty to a foolish, why, she presently begins to mistrust herself. You must approach them i’ their own height, their own line; for the contrary makes many that fear to commit themselves to noble and worthy fellows run into the embraces of a rascal. If she love wit, give verses, though you borrow ’em of a friend, or buy ’em, to have good. If valour, talk of your sword, and be frequent in the mention of quarrels, though you be staunch in fighting. If activity, be seen o’ your barbary often, or leaping over stools, for the credit of your back. If she love good clothes or dressing, have your learned council about you every morning, your French tailor, barber, linener, etcetera. Let your powder, your glass, and your comb be your dearest acquaintance. Take more care for the ornament of your head than the safety; and wish the commonwealth rather troubled than a hair about you. That will take her. Then, if she be covetous and craving, do you promise anything, and perform sparingly; so shall you keep her in appetite still. Seem as you would give, but be like a barren field that fields little, or unlucky dice to foolish and hoping gamesters. Let your gifts be slight and dainty, rather than precious. Let cunning be above cost. Give cherries at time of year, or apricots; and say they were sent you out o’ the country, though you bought ’em in Cheapside. Admire her tires; like her in all fashions, compare her in every habit to some deity, invent excellent dreams to flatter her, and riddles; or, if she be a great one, perform always the second parts to her: like what she likes, praise whom she praises, and fail not to make the household and servants yours, yea, the whole family, and salute ’em by their names (’tis but light cost if you can purchase ’em so) and make her physician your pensioner, and her chief woman. Nor will it be out of your gain to make love to her too, so she follow, not usher, her lady’s pleasure. All blabbing is taken away when she comes to be a part of the crime.
DAUPHINE
On what courtly lap hast thou late slept, to come forth so sudden and absolute a courtling?
TRUEWIT
Good faith, I should rather question you, that are so harkening after these mysteries. I begin to suspect your diligence, Dauphine. Speak, art thou in love in earnest?
DAUPHINE
Yes, by my troth am I; ’twere ill dissembling before thee.
TRUEWIT
With which of ’em, I pray you?
DAUPHINE
With all the Collegiates.
CLERIMONT
Out on thee. We’ll keep you at home, believe it, i’ the stable, an’ you be such a stallion.
TRUEWIT
No; I like him well. Men should love wisely, and all women: some one for the face, and let her please the eye; another for the skin, and let her please the touch; and third for the voice, and let her please the ear; and where the objects mix, let the senses so too. Thou wouldst think it strange if I should make ’em all in love with thee afore night!
DAUPHINE
I would say thou hadst the best philtre i’ the world, and couldst do more than Madam Medea or Doctor Forman.
TRUEWIT
If I do not, let me play the mountebank for my meat while I live, and the bawd for my drink.
DAUPHINE
So be it, I say.
ACT 4 SCENE 2
[Enter] OTTER, [with his cups], DAW, and LA FOOLE.
OTTER
Oh lord, gentlemen, how my knights and I have missed you here!
CLERIMONT
Why, captain, what service, what service?
OTTER
To see me bring up my bull, bear and horse to fight.
DAW
Yes, faith, the captain says we shall be his dogs to bait ’em.
DAUPHINE
A good employment.
TRUEWIT
Come on, let’s see a course then.
LA FOOLE
I am afraid my cousin will be offended if she come.
OTTER
Be afraid of nothing. Gentlemen, I have placed the drum and the trumpets, and one to give them the sign when you are ready. Here’s my bull for myself, and my bear for Sir John Daw, and my horse for Sir Amorous. Now set your foot to mine, and yours to his, and−
LA FOOLE
Pray God my cousin come not.
OTTER
Saint George and Saint Andrew, fear no cousins. Come, sound, sound. Et rauco strepuerunt cornua cantu.
[Drum and trumpets sound. They drink.]
TRUEWIT
Well said, captain, i’faith; well fought at the bull.
CLERIMONT
Well held at the bear.
TRUEWIT
’Loo, ’loo, captain!
DAUPHINE
Oh, the horse has kicked off his dog already.
LA FOOLE
I cannot drink it, as I am a knight.
TRUEWIT
Gods so! Off with his spurs, somebody.
LA FOOLE
It goes against my conscience. My cousin will be angry with it.
TRUEWIT
You fought high and fair, Sir John.
DAUPHINE
Like an excellent bear-dog.
CLERIMONT
[To Daw] You take no notice of the business, I hope.
DAW
[To Clerimont] Not a word, sir; you see we are jovial.
OTTER
Sir Amorous, you must not equivocate. It must be pulled down, for all my cousin.
CLERIMONT
[To La Foole.] ‘Sfoot, if you take not your drink, they’ll think you are discontented with something; you’ll betray all if you take the least notice.
LA FOOLE
[To Clerimont] Not I; I’ll both drink and talk then.
OTTER
You must pull the horse on his knees, Sir Amorous. Fear no cousins. Iacta est alea.
TRUEWIT
[To Dauphine and Clerimont] Oh, now he’s in his vein, and bold. The least hint given him of his wife now will make him rail desperately.
CLERIMONT
Speak to him of her.
TRUEWIT
Do you, and I’ll fetch her to the hearing of it.
[Exit.]
DAUPHINE
Captain he-Otter, your she-Otter is coming, your wife.
OTTER
Wife! buz! Titivilitium. There’s no such thing in nature. I confess, gentlemen, I have a cook, a laundress, a housedrudge, that serves my necessary turns and goes under that title; but he’s an ass that will be so uxorious to tie his affections to one circle. Come, the name dulls appetite. Here, replenish again: another bout. Wives are nasty sluttish animals.
[He fills the cups again]
OTTER
As ever the earth bare, tribus verbis. Where’s Master Truewit?
DAW
He’s slipped aside, sir.
CLERIMONT
But you must drink and be jovial.
LA FOOLE
As jovial as you will.
OTTER
Agreed. Now you shall ha’ the bear, cousin, and Sir John Daw the horse, and I’ll ha’ the bull still. Sound, Tritons o’ the Thames. Nunc est bibendum, nunc pede libero−
[They drink.]MOROSE speaks from above. The trumpets sounding.
MOROSE
Villains, murderers, sons of the earth and traitors, what do you there?
CLERIMONT
Oh, now the trumpets have waked him we shall have his company.
OTTER
A wife is a scurvy clogdogdo, an unlucky thing, a very foresaid bear-whelp, without any good fashion or breeding: mala bestia.
His wife is brought out to hear him [by TRUEWIT].
DAUPHINE
Why did you marry one then, captain?
OTTER
A pox!−I married with six thousand pound, I. I was in love with that. I ha’ not kissed my Fury these forty weeks.
CLERIMONT
The more to blame you, captain.
TRUEWIT
Nay, Mistress Otter, hear him a little first.
OTTER
She has a breath worse than my grandmother’s, profecto.
MISTRESS OTTER
Oh treacherous liar! Kiss me, sweet Master Truewit, and prove him a slandering knave.
TRUEWIT
I’ll rather believe you, lady.
OTTER
And she has a peruke that’s like a pound of hemp made up in shoe-threads.
MISTRESS OTTER
Oh, viper, mandrake!
OTTER
A most vile face! And yet she spends me forty pound a year in mercury and hogs’ bones. All her teeth were made i’ the Blackfriars, both her eyebrows in the Strand, and her hair in Silver Street. Every part o’ the town owns a piece of her.
MISTRESS OTTER
I cannot hold.
OTTER
She takes herself asunder still when she goes to bed, into some twenty boxes, and about next day noon is put together again, like a great German clock; and so comes forth and rings a tedious larum to the whole house, and then is quiet again for an hour, but for her quarters.− Ha’ you done me right, gentlemen?
MISTRESS OTTER
No, sir, I’ll do you right with my quarters, with my quarters.
She falls upon him ad beats him.
OTTER
Oh, hold, good princess.
[Drum and trumpets sound.]
CLERIMONT
A battle, a battle!
MISTRESS OTTER
You notorious stinkardly bearward, does my breath smell?
OTTER
Under correction, dear princess. Look to my bear and my horse, gentlemen.
MISTRESS OTTER
Do I want teeth and eyebrows, thou bull-dog?
TRUEWIT
Sound, sound still.
[They sound again.]
OTTER
No, I protest, under correction−
MISTRESS OTTER
Ay, now you are under correction, you protest; but you did not protest before correction, sir. Thou Judas, to offer to betray thy princess! I’ll make thee an example−
MOROSE descends with a long sword.
MOROSE
I will have no such examples in my house, Lady Otter.
[She runs off, with DAW and LA FOOLE.]
MOROSE
Mistress Mary Ambree, your examples are dangerous.−Rogues, hell-hounds, Stentors, out of my doors, you sons of noise and tumult, begot on an ill May-day, or when the galley-foist is afloat to Westminster! A trumpeter could not be conceived but then!
[Drives out the musicians.]
DAUPHINE
What ails you, sir?
MOROSE
They have rent my roof, walls and all my windows asunder, with their brazen throats.
[Exit.]
TRUEWIT
Best follow him, Dauphine.
[Exit.]
CLERIMONT
Where’s Daw and La Foole?
OTTER
They are both run away, sir. Good gentlemen, help to pacify my princess, and speak to the great ladies for me. Now must I go lie with the bears this fortnight, and keep out o’ the way till my peace be made, for this scandal she has taken. Did you not see my bull-head, gentlemen?
CLERIMONT
Is’t not on, captain?
TRUEWIT
No:−
[To Clerimont] but he may make a new one, by that is on.
OTTER
Oh, here ‘tis. An you come over, gentlemen, and ask for Tom Otter, we’ll go down to Ratcliffe, and have a course i’faith, for all these disasters. There’s bona spes left.
TRUEWIT
Away, captain, get off while you are well.
[Exit OTTER.]
CLERIMONT
I am glad we are rid of him.
TRUEWIT
You had never been, unless we had put his wife upon him. His humour is as tedious at last, as it was ridiculous at first.
ACT 4 SCENE 3
[Enter] HAUGHTY, MISTRESS OTTER, MAVIS, DAW, LA FOOLE, CENTAURE, AND EPICENE. [TRUEWIT and CLERIMONT observe them.]
HAUGHTY
We wondered why you shrieked so, Mistress Otter.
MISTRESS OTTER
O God, madam, he came down with a huge long naked weapon in both his hands, and looked so dreadfully! Sure he’s beside himself.
MAVIS
Why, what made you there, Mistress Otter?
MISTRESS OTTER
Alas, Mistress Mavis, I was chastising my subject, and thought nothing of him.
DAW
[To Epicene] Faith, mistress, you must do so too. Learn to chastise. Mistress Otter corrects her husband so, he dares not speak but under correction.
LA FOOLE
And with his hat off to her: ’twould do you good to see.
HAUGHTY
In sadness, ’tis good and mature counsel: practice it, Morose. I’ll call you Morose still now, as I call Centaure and Mavis: we four will be all one.
CENTAURE
And you’ll come to the college and live with us?
HAUGHTY
Make him give milk and honey.
MAVIS
Look how you manage him at first, you shall have him ever after.
CENTAURE
Let him allow you your coach and four horses, your woman, your chambermaid, your page, your gentleman-usher, your French cook, and four grooms.
HAUGHTY
And go with us to Bedlam, to the china-houses, and to the Exchange.
CENTAURE
It will open the gate to your fame.
HAUGHTY
Here’s Centaure has immortalised herself with taming of her wild male.
MAVIS
Ay, she has done the miracle of the kingdom.
EPICENE
But ladies, do you count it lawful to have such plurality of servants, and do ’em all graces?
HAUGHTY
Why not? Why should women deny their favours to men? Are they the poorer, or the worse?
DAW
Is the Thames the less for the dyer’s water, mistress?
LA FOOLE
Or a torch for lighting many torches?
TRUEWIT
[Aside] Well said, La Foole; what a new one he has got!
CENTAURE
They are empty losses women fear in this kind.
HAUGHTY
Besides, ladies should be mindful of the approach of age, and let no time want his due use. The best of our days pass first.
MAVIS
We are rivers, that cannot be called back, madam: she that now excludes her lovers may live to lie a forsaken beldame in a frozen bed.
CENTAURE
’Tis true, Mavis. And who will wait on us to coach then? or write, or tell us the news then? Make anagrams of our names, and invite us to the cockpit, and kiss our hands all the play-time, and draw their weapons for our honours?
DAW
Nay, my mistress is not altogether unintelligent of these things; here be in presence have tasted of her favours.
TRUEWIT
[Aside] What a neighing hobby-horse is this!
EPICENE
But not with intent to boast ’em again, servant. And have you those excellent receipts, madam, to keep yourselves from bearing of children?
HAUGHTY
Oh yes, Morose. How should we maintain our youth and beauty else? Many births of a woman make her old, as many crops make the earth barren.
ACT 4 SCENE 4
[Enter] MOROSE and DAUPHINE [who speak apart.]
MOROSE
Oh my cursed angel, that instructed me to this fate!
MOROSE
That I should be seduced by so foolish a devil as a barber will make!
DAUPHINE
I would I had been worthy, sir, to have partaken your counsel; you should never have trusted it to such a minister.
MOROSE
Would I could redeem it with the loss of an eye (nephew), a hand, or any other member.
DAUPHINE
Marry, God forbid, sir, that you should geld yourself to anger your wife.
MOROSE
So it would rid me of her! And that I did supererogatory penance, in a belfry, at Westminster Hall, i’n the Cockpit, at the fall of a stag, the Tower Wharf (what place is there else?) London Bridge, Paris Garden, Billinsgate, when the noises are at their height and loudest. Nay, I would sit out a play, that were nothing but fights at sea, drum, trumpet and target!
DAUPHINE
I hope there shall be no such need, sir. Take patience, good uncle. This is but a day, and ’tis well worn too now.
MOROSE
O, ’twill be so for ever, nephew, I foresee it, for ever. Strife and tumult are the dowry that comes with a wife.
TRUEWIT
I told you so, sir, and you would not believe me.
MOROSE
Alas, do not rub those wounds, Master Truewit, to blood again; ’twas my negligence. Add not affliction to affliction. I have perceived the effect of it, too late, in Madam Otter.
EPICENE
[Coming forward] How do you, sir?
MOROSE
Did you ever hear a more unnecessary question? As if she did not see! Why, I do as you see, empress, empress.
EPICENE
You are not well, sir! You look very ill! Something has distempered you.
MOROSE
Oh horrible, monstrous impertinencies! Would not one of these have served? Do you think, sir? Would not one of these have served?
TRUEWIT
Yes, sir, but these are but notes of female kindness, sir; certain tokens that she has a voice, sir.
MOROSE
Oh, is’t so? Come, and’t be no otherwise−what say you?
EPICENE
How do you feel yourself, sir?
TRUEWIT
Nay, look you, sir: you would be friends with your wife upon unconscionable terms, her silence−
EPICENE
They say you are run mad, sir.
MOROSE
Not for love, I assure you, of you; do you see?
EPICENE
O lord, gentlemen! Lay hold on him for God’s sake. What shall I do? Who’s his physician (can you tell) that knows the state of his body best, that I might send for him? Good sir, speak. I’ll send for one of my doctors else.
MOROSE
What, to poison me, that I might die intestate and leave you possessed of all?
EPICENE
Lord, how idly he talks, and how his eyes sparkle! He looks green about the temples! Do you see what blue spots he has?
TRUEWIT
Ay, it’s melancholy.
EPICENE
Gentlemen, for heaven’s sake counsel me. Ladies! Servant, you have read Pliny and Paracelsus: ne’er a word now to comfort a poor gentlewoman? Ay me! What fortune had I to marry a distracted man?
DAW
I’ll tell you, mistress−
TRUEWIT
[To Clerimont] How rarely she holds it up!
[TRUEWIT and CLERIMONT prevent MOROSE from leaving.]
MOROSE
What mean you, gentlemen?
EPICENE
What will you tell me, servant?
DAW
The disease in Greek is called mania, in Latin insania, furor, vel ecstasis melancholica, that is, egressio, when a man ex melancholico evadit fanaticus.
MOROSE
Shall I have a lecture read upon me alive?
DAW
But he may be but phreneticus yet, mistress, and phrenetis is only delirium, or so−
EPICENE
Ay, that is for the disease, servant; but what is this to the cure? We are sure enough of the disease.
TRUEWIT
Why, we’ll entreat her to hold her peace, sir.
MOROSE
Oh no, labour not to stop her. She is like a conduit-pipe, that will gush out with more force when she opens again.
HAUGHTY
I’ll tell you, Morose, you must talk divinity to him altogether, or moral philosophy.
LA FOOLE
Ay, and there’s an excellent book of moral philosophy, madam, of Reynard the Fox and all the beasts, called Doni’s Philosophy.
CENTAURE
There is, indeed, sir Amorous La Foole.
LA FOOLE
I have read it, my lady Centaure, all over to my cousin, here.
MISTRESS OTTER
Ay, and ’tis a very good book as any is of the moderns.
DAW
Tut, he must have Seneca read to him, and Plutarch and the ancients; the moderns are not for this disease.
CLERIMONT
Why, you discommended them too, today, Sir John.
DAW
Ay, in some cases; but in these they are best, and Aristotle’s Ethics.
MAVIS
Say you so sir John? I think you are deceived: you took it upon trust.
HAUGHTY
Where’s Trusty, my woman? I’ll end this difference. I prithee, Otter, call her. Her father and mother were both mad when they put her to me.
[Exit MISTRESS OTTER.]
MOROSE
I think so.−Nay, gentlemen, I am tame. This is but an exercise, I know, a marriage ceremony, which I must endure.
HAUGHTY
And one of ’em (I know not which) was cured with the Sick Man’s Salve; and the other with Greene’s Groat’s-worth of Wit.
TRUEWIT
A very cheap cure, madam.
HAUGHTY
Ay, it’s very feasible.
[Enter MISTRESS OTTER with TRUSTY.]
MISTRESS OTTER
My lady called for you, Mistress Trusty; you must decide a controversy.
HAUGHTY
Oh, Trusty, which was it you said, your father or your mother, that was cured with the Sick Man’s Salve?
TRUSTY
My mother, madam, with the Salve.
TRUEWIT
Then it was The sick woman’s Salve?
TRUSTY
And my father with The Groat’s-worth of Wit. But there was other means used: we had a preacher that would preach folk asleep still; and so they were prescribed to go to church by an old woman that was their physician, thrice a week−
TRUSTY
Yes, forsooth; and every night they read themselves asleep on those books.
EPICENE
Good faith, it stands with great reason. I would I knew where to procure those books.
LA FOOLE
I can help you with one of ’em, Mistress Morose, the Groat’s-worth of Wit.
EPICENE
But I shall disfurnish you, Sir Amorous. Can you spare it?
LA FOOLE
Oh, yes, for a week or so; I’ll read it myself to him.
EPICENE
No, I must do that, sir; that must be my office.
EPICENE
Sure, he would do well enough, if he could sleep.
MOROSE
No, I should do well enough, if you could sleep. Have I no friend that will make her drunk? or give her a little laudanum? or opium?
TRUEWIT
Why, sir, she talks ten times worse in her sleep.
CLERIMONT
Do you not know that, sir? Never ceases all night.
TRUEWIT
And snores like a porpoise.
MOROSE
Oh, redeem me, fate, redeem me, fate! For how many causes may a man be divorced, nephew?
DAUPHINE
I know not, truly, sir.
TRUEWIT
Some divine must resolve you in that, sir, or canon lawyer.
MOROSE
I will not rest, I will not think of any other hope or comfort, till I know.
[Exit MOROSE and DAUPHINE.]
CLERIMONT
Alas, poor man!
TRUEWIT
You’ll make him mad indeed, ladies, if you pursue this.
HAUGHTY
No, we’ll let him breathe now a quarter of an hour or so.
CLERIMONT
By my faith, a large truce.
HAUGHTY
Is that his keeper that is gone with him?
DAW
It is his nephew, madam.
LA FOOLE
Sir Dauphine Eugenie.
HAUGHTY
He looks like a very pitiful knight−
DAW
As can be. This marriage has put him out of all.
LA FOOLE
He has not a penny in his purse, madam−
DAW
He is ready to cry all this day.
LA FOOLE
A very shark, he set me i’n the nick t’other night at primero.
TRUEWIT
[To Clerimont] How these swabbers talk!
CLERIMONT
[To Truewit] Ay, Otter’s wine has swelled their humours above a spring-tide.
HAUGHTY
Good Morose, let’s go in again. I like your couches exceeding well; we’ll go lie and talk there.
EPICENE
I wait on you, madam.
[Exeunt HAUGHTY, CENTAURE, MAVIS, TRUSTY, DAW and LA FOOLE.]
TRUEWIT
’Slight, I will have ’em as silent as signs, and their posts too, ere I ha’ done. Do you hear, lady bride? I pray thee now, as thou art a noble wench, continue this discourse of Dauphine within; but praise him exceedingly. Magnify him with all the height of affection thou canst (I have some purpose in’t) and but beat off these two rooks, Jack Daw and his fellow, with any discontentment hither, and I’ll honour thee for ever.
EPICENE
I was about it here. It angered me to the soul to hear ’em begin to talk so malapert.
TRUEWIT
Pray thee perform it, and thou win’st me an idolater to thee everlasting.
EPICENE
Will you go in and hear me do it?
TRUEWIT
No, I’ll stay here. Drive ’em out of your company, ’tis all I ask; which cannot be any way better done than by extolling Dauphine, whom they have so slighted.
EPICENE
I warrant you; you shall expect one of ’em presently.
[Exit.]
CLERIMONT
What a cast of kestrils are these, to hawk after ladies thus!
TRUEWIT
Ay, and strike at such an eagle as Dauphine.
CLERIMONT
He will be mad when we tell him. Here he comes.
ACT 4 SCENE 5
[Enter] DAUPHINE.
CLERIMONT
O sir, you are welcome.
TRUEWIT
Where’s thine uncle?
DAUPHINE
Run out o’ doors in’s nightcaps to talk with a casuist about his divorce. It works admirably.
TRUEWIT
Thou wouldst ha’ said so if thou hadst been here! The ladies have laughed at thee most comically since thou went’st, Dauphine.
CLERIMONT
And asked if thou wert thine uncle’s keeper.
TRUEWIT
And the brace of baboons answered yes, and said thou wert a pitiful poor fellow and didst live upon posts, and hadst nothing but three suits of apparel and some few benevolences that lords ga’ thee to fool to ’em and swagger.
DAUPHINE
Let me not live, I’ll beat them. I’ll bind ’em both to grand madam’s bed-posts and have ’em baited with monkeys.
TRUEWIT
Thou shalt not need, they shall be beaten to thy hand, Dauphine. I have an execution to serve upon ’em I warrant thee shall serve: trust my plot.
DAUPHINE
Ay, you have many plots! So you had one to make all the wenches in love with me.
TRUEWIT
Why, if I do not yet afore night, as near as ’tis, and that they do not every one invite thee and be ready to scratch for thee, take the mortgage of my wit.
CLERIMONT
’Fore God, I’ll be his witness; thou shalt have it, Dauphine; thou shalt be his fool for ever if thou dost not.
TRUEWIT
Agreed. Perhaps ’twill be the better estate. Do you observe this gallery, or rather lobby, indeed? Here are a couple of studies, at each end one: here will I act such a tragicomedy between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines, Daw and La Foole. Which of ’em comes out first will I seize on. (You two shall be the chorus behind the arras, and whip out between the acts and speak.) If I do not make ’em keep the peace for this remnant of the day, if not of the year, I have failed once−I hear Daw coming. Hide, and do not laugh, for God’s sake.
[DAUPHINE and CLERIMONT hide.]
[Enter DAW.]
DAW
Which is the way into the garden, trow?
TRUEWIT
Oh, Jack Daw! I am glad I have met with you. In good faith, I must have this matter go no further between you. I must ha’ it taken up.
DAW
What matter, sir? Between whom?
TRUEWIT
Come, you disguise it: Sir Amorous and you. If you love me, Jack, you shall make use of your philosophy now, for this once, and deliver me your sword. This is not the wedding the Centaurs were at, though there be a she-one here. The bride has entreated me I will see no blood shed at her bridal; you saw her whisper me erewhile.
[Takes his sword.]
DAW
As I hope to finish Tacitus, I intend no murder.
TRUEWIT
Do you not wait for Sir Amorous?
DAW
Not I, by my knighthood.
TRUEWIT
And your scholarship too?
DAW
And my scholarship too.
TRUEWIT
Go to, then I return you your sword, and ask you mercy; but put it not up, for you will be assaulted.
[Returns his sword.] I understood that you had apprehended it, and walked here to brave him, and that you had held your life contemptible in regard of your honour.
DAW
No, no, no such thing, I assure you. He and I parted now as good friends as could be.
TRUEWIT
Trust not you to that visor. I saw him since dinner with another face. I have known many men in my time vexed with losses, with deaths, and with abuses, but so offended a wight as Sir Amorous did I never see, or read of. For taking away his guests, sir, today, that’s the cause, and he declares it behind your back with such threat’nings and contempts. He said to Dauphine you were the arrant’st ass−
DAW
Ay, he may say his pleasure.
TRUEWIT
And swears you are so protested a coward that he knows you will never do him any manly or single right, and therefore he will take his course.
DAW
I’ll give him any satisfaction, sir−but fighting.
TRUEWIT
Ay, sir, but who knows what satisfaction he’ll take? Blood he thirsts for, and blood he will have; and whereabouts on you he will have it, who knows but himself?
DAW
I pray you, Master Truewit, be you a mediator.
TRUEWIT
Well, sir, conceal yourself then in this study till I return.
[He puts him up.] Nay, you must be content to be locked in; for, for mine own reputation, I would not have you seen to receive a public disgrace, while I have the matter in managing. Gods so, here he comes! Keep your breath close, that he do not hear you sigh.−In good faith, Sir Amorous, he is not this way; I pray you be merciful, do not murder him; he is a Christian as good as you; you are armed as if you sought a revenge on all his race. Good Dauphine, get him away from this place. I never knew a man’s choler so high but he would speak to his friends, he would hear reason.−Jack Daw, Jack Daw! Asleep!
DAW
[Within] Is he gone, Master Truewit?
TRUEWIT
Ay, did you hear him?
TRUEWIT
[Aside] What a quick ear fear has!
DAW
[Comes out of the study.] But is he so armed, as you say?
TRUEWIT
Armed? Did you ever see a fellow set out to take possession?
TRUEWIT
That may give you some light to conceive of him; but ’tis nothing to the principal. Some false brother i’ the house has furnished him strangely. Or, if it were out o’ the house, it was Tom Otter.
DAW
Indeed he’s a captain, and his wife is his kinswoman.
TRUEWIT
He has got somebody’s old two-hand sword, to mow you off at the knees. And that sword hath spawned such a dagger!− But then he is so hung with pikes, halberds, petronels, calivers and muskets, that he looks like a justice of peace’s hall; a man of two thousand a year, is not cessed at so many weapons as he has on. There was never fencer challenged at so many several foils. You would think he meant to murder all Saint Pulchre’s parish. If he could but victual himself for half a year in his breeches, he is sufficiently armed to overrun a country.
DAW
Good lord! what means he, sir? I pray you, Master Truewit, be you a mediator.
TRUEWIT
Well, I’ll try if he will be appeased with a leg or an arm; if not, you must die once.
DAW
I would be loath to lose my right arm, for writing madrigals.
TRUEWIT
Why, if he will be satisfied with a thumb or a little finger, all’s one to me. You must think I’ll do my best.
He puts him up again, and then [DAUPHINE and CLERIMONT] come forth.]
CLERIMONT
What hast thou done?
TRUEWIT
He will let me do nothing, man, he does all afore me; he offers his left arm.
CLERIMONT
His left wing for a Jack Daw.
DAUPHINE
Take it by all means.
TRUEWIT
How! Maim a man for ever for a jest? What a conscience hast thou?
DAUPHINE
’Tis no loss to him: he has no employment for his arms but to eat spoon-meat. Beside, as good maim his body as his reputation.
TRUEWIT
He is a scholar and a Wit, and yet he does not think so. But he loses no reputation with us, for we all resolved him an ass before. To your places again.
CLERIMONT
I pray thee let me be in at the other a little.
TRUEWIT
Look, you’ll spoil all: these be ever your tricks.
CLERIMONT
No, but I could hit of some things that thou wilt miss, and thou wilt say are good ones.
TRUEWIT
I warrant you. I pray forbear, I will leave it off else.
DAUPHINE
Come away, Clerimont.
[They hide again.]
[Enter LA FOOLE.]
TRUEWIT
Whither were you going?
LA FOOLE
Down into the court to make water.
TRUEWIT
By no means, sir; you shall rather tempt your breeches.
TRUEWIT
[Opening the door of the other study.] Enter here if you love your life.
TRUEWIT
Question till your throat be cut, do; dally till the enraged soul find you.
TRUEWIT
Daw it is; will you in?
LA FOOLE
Ay, ay, I’ll in; what’s the matter?
TRUEWIT
Nay, if he had been cool enough to tell us that, there had been some hope to atone you, but he seems so implacably enraged!
LA FOOLE
’Slight, let him rage! I’ll hide myself.
TRUEWIT
Do, good sir. But what have you done to him within that should provoke him thus? You have broke some jest upon him afore the ladies−
LA FOOLE
Not I, never in my life broke jest upon any man. The bride was praising Sir Dauphine, and he went away in snuff, and I followed him, unless he took offence at me in his drink erewhile, that I would not pledge all the horse-full.
TRUEWIT
By my faith, and that may be, you remember well; but he walks the round up and down, through every room o’ the house, with a towel in his hand, crying, ‘Where’s La Foole? Who saw La−Foole?’ And when Dauphine and I demanded the cause, we can force no answer from him but ‘O revenge, how sweet art thou! I will strangle him in this towel’−which leads us to conjecture that the main cause of his fury is for bringing your meat today, with a towel about you, to his discredit.
LA FOOLE
Like enough. Why, and he be angry for that, I’ll stay here till his anger be blown over.
TRUEWIT
A good becoming resolution, sir. If you can put it on o’ the sudden.
LA FOOLE
Yes, I can put it on. Or I’ll away into the country presently.
TRUEWIT
How will you get out o’the house, sir? He knows you are i’the house, and he’ll watch you this se’en-night but he’ll have you. He’ll outwait a sergeant for you.
LA FOOLE
Why then I’ll stay here.
TRUEWIT
You must think how to victual yourself in time then.
LA FOOLE
Why, sweet Master Truewit, will you entreat my cousin Otter to send me a cold venison pasty, a bottle or two of wine, and a chamber-pot?
TRUEWIT
A stool were better, sir, of Sir A-jax his invention.
LA FOOLE
Ay, that will be better indeed; and a pallet to lie on.
TRUEWIT
Oh, I would not advise you to sleep by any means.
LA FOOLE
Would you not, sir? Why then I will not.
TRUEWIT
Yet there’s another fear−
LA FOOLE
Is there, sir? What is’t?
TRUEWIT
No, he cannot break open this door with his foot, sure.
LA FOOLE
I’ll set my back against it, sir. I have a good back.
TRUEWIT
But then if he should batter.
LA FOOLE
Batter! If he dare, I’ll have an action of batt’ry against him.
TRUEWIT
Cast you the worst. He has sent for powder already, and what he will do with it, no man knows; perhaps blow up the corner o’ the house where he suspects you are. Here he comes! In, quickly.
[He feigns as if one were present, to fight the other, who is run in to hide himself.] I protest, Sir John Daw, he is not this way. What will you do? Before God, you shall hang no petard here. I’ll die rather. Will you not take my word? I never knew one but would be satisfied.−Sir Amorous, there’s no standing out. He has made a petard of an old brass pot, to force your door. Think upon some satisfaction or terms to offer him.
LA FOOLE
[Within.] Sir, I’ll give him any satisfaction. I dare give any terms.
TRUEWIT
You’ll leave it to me then?
LA FOOLE
Ay, sir. I’ll stand to any conditions.
[TRUEWIT] calls forth CLERIMONT and DAUPHINE.
TRUEWIT
How now, what think you, sirs? Were’t not a difficult thing to determine which of these two feared most?
CLERIMONT
Yes, but this fears the bravest; the other a whiniling dastard, Jack Daw. But La Foole, a brave heroic coward! And is afraid in a great look and a stout accent. I like him rarely.
TRUEWIT
Had it not been pity these two should ha’ been concealed?
CLERIMONT
Shall I make a motion?
TRUEWIT
Briefly. For I must strike while ’tis hot.
CLERIMONT
Shall I go fetch the ladies to the catastrophe?
TRUEWIT
Umh? Ay, by my troth.
DAUPHINE
By no mortal means. Let them continue in the state of ignorance, and err still; think ’em wits and fine fellows as they have done. ’Twere sin to reform them.
TRUEWIT
Well, I will have ‘em fetched, now I think on’t, for a private purpose of mine; do, Clerimont, fetch ’em, and discourse to ’em all that’s past, and bring ’em into the gallery here.
DAUPHINE
This is thy extreme vanity now; thou think’st thou wert undone if every jest thou mak’st were not published.
TRUEWIT
Thou shalt see how unjust thou art presently. Clerimont, say it was Dauphine’s plot.
[Exit CLERIMONT.] Trust me not if the whole drift be not for thy good. There’s a carpet i’ the next room; put it on, with this scarf over thy face and a cushion o’ thy head, and be ready when I call Amorous. Away−
[Exit DAUPHINE.] John Daw!
[He brings DAW out of his study.]
TRUEWIT
Faith, I have followed and argued with him hard for you. I told him you were a knight and a scholar, and that you knew fortitude did consist magis patiendo quam faciendo, magis ferendo quam feriendo.
DAW
It doth so indeed, sir.
TRUEWIT
And that you would suffer, I told him: so at first he demanded, by my troth, in my conceit too much.
TRUEWIT
Your upper lip, and six o’ your fore-teeth.
TRUEWIT
Nay, I told him plainly, you could not spare ’em all. So after long argument (pro et con, as you know) I brought him down to your two butter-teeth, and them he would have.
DAW
Oh, did you so? Why, he shall have ’em.
[Enter above HAUGHTY, CENTAURE, MAVIS, MISTRESS OTTER, EPICENE, TRUSTY and CLERIMONT]
TRUEWIT
But he shall not, sir, by your leave. The conclusion is this, sir: because you shall be very good friends hereafter, and this never to be remembered or upbraided, besides that he may not boast he has done any such thing to you in his own person, he is to come here in disguise, give you five kicks in private, sir, take your sword from you, and lock you up in that study, during pleasure. Which will be but a little while, we’ll get it released presently.
DAW
Five kicks? He shall have six, sir, to be friends.
TRUEWIT
Believe me, you shall not overshoot yourself to send him that word by me.
DAW
Deliver it, sir. He shall have it with all my heart, to be friends.
TRUEWIT
Friends? Nay, and he should not be so, and heartily too, upon these terms, he shall have me to enemy while I live. Come, sir, bear it bravely.
DAW
O God, sir, ’tis nothing.
TRUEWIT
True. Whats’s six kicks to a man that reads Seneca?
DAW
I have had a hundred, sir.
TRUEWIT
Sir Amorous! No speaking one to another, or rehearsing old matters.
DAUPHINE [masked with a scarf] comes forth and kicks him.
DAW
One, two, three, four, five. I protest, Sir Amorous, you shall have six.
TRUEWIT
Nay, I told you, you should not talk. Come, give him six, an he will needs.
[DAUPHINE kicks him again.] Your swords.
[DAW gives TRUEWIT his sword.] Now return to your safe custody: you shall presently meet afore the ladies, and be the dearest friends one to another−
[DAW goes into his study.] Give me the scarf; now thou shalt beat the other barefaced. Stand by, Sir Amorous!
[Exit DAUPHINE; TRUEWIT brings out LA FOOLE.]
LA FOOLE
What’s here? A sword!
TRUEWIT
I cannot help it, without I should take the quarrel upon myself; here he has sent you his sword−
LA FOOLE
I’ll receive none on’t.
TRUEWIT
And he wills you to fasten it against a wall, and break your head in some few several places against the hilts.
LA FOOLE
I will not: tell him roundly. I cannot endure to shed my own blood.
LA FOOLE
No. I’ll beat it against a fair flat wall, if that will satisfy him; if not, he shall beat it himself for Amorous.
TRUEWIT
Why, this is strange starting off, when a man undertakes for you! I offered him another condition: will you stand to that?
TRUEWIT
That you will be beaten in private.
LA FOOLE
Yes. I am content, at the blunt.
TRUEWIT
Then you must submit yourself to be hoodwinked in this scarf, and be led to him, where he will take your sword from you, and make you bear a blow over the mouth, gules, and tweaks by the nose sans nombre.
LA FOOLE
I am content. But why must I be blinded?
TRUEWIT
That’s for your good, sir: because, if he should grow insolent upon this and publish it hereafter to your disgrace (which I hope he will not do) you might swear safely and protest he never beat you, to your knowledge.
TRUEWIT
I do not doubt but you’ll be perfect good friends upon’t, and not dare to utter an ill thought one of another in future.
LA FOOLE
Not I, as God help me, of him.
TRUEWIT
Nor he of you, sir. If he should−Come, sir.
[Blindfolds him.] All hid, Sir John.
DAUPHINE enters to tweak him.
LA FOOLE
Oh, Sir John, Sir John! Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh−
[DAUPHINE takes his sword.]
TRUEWIT
Good, Sir John, leave tweaking, you’ll blow his nose off.
[Exit DAUPHINE with the two swords.] ’Tis Sir John’s pleasure you should retire into the study.
[Unbinds LA FOOLE’s eyes and shuts him in.] Why, now you are friends. All bitterness between you, I hope, is buried; you shall come forth by and by Damon and Pythias upon’t, and embrace with all the rankness of friendship that can be.
[Enter DAUPHINE.] I trust we shall have ’em tamer i’their language hereafter. Dauphine, I worship thee.−God’s will, the ladies have surprised us!
ACT 4 SCENCE 6
[Enter] HAUGHTY, CENTAURE, MAVIS, MISTRESS OTTER, EPICENE, TRUSTY [and CLERIMONT], having discovered part of the past scene, above.
HAUGHTY
Centaure, how our judgments were imposed on by these adulterate knights!
CENTAURE
Nay, madam, Mavis was more deceived than we; ’twas her commendation uttered ’em in the college.
MAVIS
I commended but their wits, madam, and their braveries. I never looked toward their valours.
HAUGHTY
Sir Dauphine is valiant, and a Wit too, it seems.
HAUGHTY
Was this his project?
MISTRESS OTTER
So Master Clerimont intimates, madam.
HAUGHTY
Good Morose, when you come to the college, will you bring him with you? He seems a very perfect gentleman.
EPICENE
He is so, madam, believe it.
CENTAURE
But when will you come, Morose?
EPICENE
Three or four days hence, madam, when I have got me a coach and horses.
HAUGHTY
No, tomorrow, good Morose; Centaure shall send you her coach.
MAVIS
Yes, faith, do, and bring Sir Dauphine with you.
HAUGHTY
She has promised that, Mavis.
MAVIS
He is a very worthy gentleman in his exteriors, madam.
HAUGHTY
Ay, he shows he is judicial in his clothes.
CENTAURE
And yet not so superlatively neat as some, madam, that have their faces set in a brake!
HAUGHTY
Ay, and have every hair in form!
MAVIS
That wear purer linen then ourselves, and profess more neatness than the French hermaphrodite!
EPICENE
Ay, ladies, they; what they tell one of us, have told a thousand, and are the only thieves of our fame; that think to take us with that perfume or with that lace, and laugh at us unconscionably when they have done.
HAUGHTY
But Sir Dauphine’s carelessness becomes him.
CENTAURE
I could love a man for such a nose!
CENTAURE
He has an exceeding good eye, madam!
MAVIS
And a very good lock!
CENTAURE
Good Morose, bring him to my chamber first.
MISTRESS OTTER
Please your honours to meet at my house, madam?
TRUEWIT
[To Dauphine] See how they eye thee, man! They are taken, I warrant thee.
HAUGHTY
[Approaching Truewit and Dauphine.] You have unbraced our brace of knights here, Master Truewit.
TRUEWIT
Not I, madam, it was sir Dauphine’s engine; who, if he have disfurnished your ladyship of any guard or service by it, is able to make the place good again in himself.
HAUGHTY
There’s no suspicion of that, sir.
CENTAURE
God so, Mavis, Haughty is kissing.
MAVIS
Let us go too and take part.
HAUGHTY
But I am glad of the fortune (beside the discovery of two such empty caskets) to gain the knowledge of so rich a mine of virtue as Sir Dauphine.
CENTAURE
We would be all glad to style him of our friendship, and see him at the college.
MAVIS
He cannot mix with a sweeter society, I’ll prophesy, and I hope he himself will think so.
DAUPHINE
I should be rude to imagine otherwise, lady.
TRUEWIT
[To Dauphine] Did not I tell thee, Dauphine? Why, all their actions are governed by crude opinion, without reason or cause; they know not why they do anything; but as they are informed, believe, judge, praise, condemn, love, hate, and in emulation one of another, do all these things alike. Only, they have a natural inclination sways ’em generally to the worst, when they are left to themselves. But pursue it, now thou hast ’em.
HAUGHTY
Shall we go in again, Morose?
CENTAURE
We’ll entreat Sir Dauphine’s company.
TRUEWIT
Stay, good madam, the interview of the two friends, Pylades and Orestes: I’ll fetch ‘em out to you straight.
HAUGHTY
Will you, Master Truewit?
DAUPHINE
Ay, but noble ladies, do not confess in your countenance or outward bearing to ’em any discovery of their follies, that we may see how they will bear up again, with what assurance and erection.
HAUGHTY
We will not, Sir Dauphine.
CENTAURE [and] MAVIS
Upon our honours, Sir Dauphine.
TRUEWIT
Sir Amorous, Sir Amorous! The ladies are here.
LA FOOLE
[Within] Are they?
TRUEWIT
Yes, but slip out by and by as their backs are turned and meet Sir John here, as by chance, when I call you.− Jack Daw!
DAW
[Within] What say you, sir?
TRUEWIT
Whip out behind me suddenly, and no anger i’ your looks to your adversary.−Now, now!
[LA FOOLE and DAW come out of their studies, and salute each other.]
LA FOOLE
Noble Sir John Daw! Where ha’ you been?
DAW
To seek you, Sir Amorous.
LA FOOLE
Me! I honour you.
CLERIMONT
They have forgot their rapiers!
TRUEWIT
Oh, they meet in peace, man.
DAUPHINE
Where’s your sword, Sir John?
CLERIMONT
And yours, sir Amorous?
DAW
Mine? My boy had it forth to mend the handle, e’en now.
LA FOOLE
And my gold handle was broke too, and my boy had it forth.
DAUPHINE
Indeed, sir? How their excuses meet!
CLERIMONT
What a consent there is i’ the handles!
TRUEWIT
Nay, there is so i’ the points too, I warrant you.
MISTRESS OTTER
Oh me! Madam, he comes again, the madman! Away!
[Exeunt hastily HAUGHTY, CENTAURE, EPICENE, MAVIS, MISTRESS OTTER, TRUSTY, DAW and LA FOOLE.]