Texto utilizado para esta edición digital:
Ford, John. 'Tis Pity She's a Whore. Edited by N. W. Bawcutt. University of Nebraska Press, 1966. Regents Restoration Drama Series.
- Perelló Pigazos, Sonia (Artelope)
Nota a la edición digital
Reproduced from 'Tis Pity She's a Whore, by John Ford by permission of the University of Nebraska Press. Copyright 1965 by the University of Nebraska Press.
TO MY FRIEND THE AUTHOR
With admiration I beheld this Whore
Adorn’d with beauty such as might restore
(If ever being as thy muse hath fam’d)
Her Giovanni, in his love unblam’d:
The ready Graces lent their willing aid,
Pallas herself now play’d the chambermaid,
And help’d to put her dressings on. Secure
Rest thou that thy name herein shall endure
To th’ end of age; and Annabella be
Gloriously fair, even in her infamy.
TO THE TRULY NOBLE JOHN, EARL OF PETERBOROUGH, LORD MORDAUNT, BARON OF TURVEY
Where a truth of merit hath a general warrant, there
love is but a debt, acknowledgment a justice. Greatness
cannot often claim virtue by inheritance; yet, in this, yours
appears most eminent, for that you are not more rightly
heir to your fortunes than glory shall be to your memory.
Sweetness of disposition ennobles a freedom of birth; in
both, your lawful interest adds honor to your own name
and mercy to my presumption. Your noble allowance of
these first fruits of my leisure in the action emboldens my
confidence of your as noble construction in this presentment;
especially since my service must ever owe particular duty to
your favors by a particular engagement. The gravity of the
subject may easily excuse the lightness of the title, otherwise
I had been a severe judge against mine own guilt. Princess
have vouchsaf’d grace to trifles offer’d from a purity of
devotion; your lordship may likewise please to admit into
your good opinion, with these weak endeavors, the constancy
of affection from the sincere lover of your deserts in honor,
The Actors’ Names
|Bonaventura, a friar|
|A Cardinal, nuncio to the Pope|
|Soranzo, a nobleman|
|Florio, a citizen of Parma|
|Donado, another citizen|
|Grimaldi, a Roman Gentleman|
|Giovanni, son to Florio|
|Bergetto, nephew to Donado|
|Richardetto, a suppos’d physician|
|Vasques, servanto to Soranzo|
|Poggio, servant to Bergetto|
|[Officers, Attendants, &c.]|
|Annabella, daughter to Florio|
|Hippolita, wife to Richardetto|
|Philotis, his niece|
|Putana, tut’ress to Annabella|
The Scene: Parma
make you run quickly.
nor cannot play the mountebank for a meal’s meat, and
swear I got my wounds in the field. See you these grey hairs?
They’ll not flinch for a bloody nose. Wilt thou to this gear?
a cast-suit? Call thy master, he shall know that I dare–
shadow of a soldier, I will make thee know my master keeps
servants thy betters in quality and performance. Com’st thou
to fight or prate?
have got mine honor with expense of blood.
I’ll kill thee. –Brave my lord! You’ll fight?
my gentleman blood under the gills; I should have worm’d
you, sir, for running mad.
innocence, do; spoon-meat is a wholesomer diet than a
would make any unspleen’d dove choleric. Blame not my
lord in this.
quarrelling, and fighting, on every side, and all is for your
sake; you had need look to yourself, charge, you’ll be
stol’n away sleeping else shortly.
this is love outright. Indeed I blame you not, you have choice
fit for the best lady in Italy.
a very well-timber’d fellow: they say he is a Roman,
nephew to the Duke Montferrato, they say he did good
service in the wars against the Milanese, but ’faith, charge,
I do not like him, an’t be for nothing but for being a soldier;
not one amongst twenty of your skirmishing captains but
have some privy maim or other that mars their standing
upright. I like him the worse, he crinkles so much in the
hams; though he might serve if there were no more men,
yet he’s not the man I would choose.
wise, and what is more, rich; and what is more than that,
kind, and what is more than all this, a nobleman; such a
one, were I the fair Annabella myself, I would wish and
pray for. Then he is bountiful; besides, he is handsome, and
by my troth, I think wholesome (and that’s news in a gallant
of three and twenty); liberal, that I know; loving, that you
know; and a man sure, else he could never ha’ purchas’d
such a good name with Hippolita, the lusty widow, in her
husband’s lifetime: and ’twere but for that report, sweet-
heart, would ’a were thine. Commend a man for his
qualities, but take a husband as he is a plain-sufficient,
naked man: such a one is for your bed, and such a one is
Signor Soranzo, my life for’t.
another of your ciphers to fill up the number. O brave
old ape in a silken coat! Observe.
clothes, and leave my dinner, to fight?
of an elder brother that was a coxcomb. Didst, Poggio?
left them to inherit.
with a handful of silver to buy a headful of wit at any time;
but sirrah, I have another purchase in hand, I shall have the
wench, mine uncle says. I will but wash my face, and shift
socks, and then have at her i’faith! Mark my pace, Poggio.
Spanish pavin with a better grace, I know not how often.
below with your father, charge, Signor Donado his uncle,
for that he means to make this his cousin a golden calf,
thinks that you will be a right Israelite and fall down to him
presently: but I hope I have tutor’d you better. They say a
fool’s bauble is a lady’s playfellow, yet you having wealth
enough, you need not cast upon the dearth of flesh at any
rate: hang him, innocent!
I would be private with you.
[Aside.] If this were any other company for her, I
should think my absence an office of some credit; but I
will leave them together.
out of the mint, have I not, Poggio?
there is a fellow come to town who undertakes to make a
mill go without the mortal help of any water or wind,
only with sand-bags: and this fellow hath a strange horse,
a most excellent beast, I’ll assure you, uncle (my barber
says), whose head, to the wonder of all Christian people,
stands just behind where his tail is; is’t not true, Poggio?
have more mind of a puppet-play than on the business I
told ye; why, thou great baby, wilt never have wit, wilt
make thyself a may-game to all the world?
to see fashions like other gallants?
Annabella, when you were at Signor Florio’s house?
speech, that I make her almost burst her belly with laughing.
as he loved parmasent, and swore (I’ll be sworn for him)
that she wanted but such a nose as his was to be as pretty a
young woman as any was in Parma.
more children than myself: and I said, “No, ’twere better
he should have had his brains knock’d out first.”
all his wealth?”
“Leave me all his wealth? Why, woman, he hath no other
wit; if he had, he should hear on’t to his everlasting glory
and confusion: I know,” quoth I, “I am his white boy, and
will not be gull’d”; and with that she fell into a great smile
and went away. Nay, I did fit her.
Bergetto, I fear thou wilt be a very ass still.
speaker, I’ll have you write to her after some courtly manner,
and enclose some rich jewel in the letter.
now I commend thee, charge: fear nothing, sweetheart;
what though he be your brother? Your brother’s a man,
I hope, and I say still, if a young wench feel the fit upon her,
let her take anybody, father or brother, all is one.
shall be tax’d of my neglect of duty and service.
had a resolution as noble as virtue itself, you take the course
to unedge it all. Sir, I beseech you, do not perplex her;
griefs, alas, will have a vent. I dare undertake Madam
Hippolita will now freely hear you.
have cause: some I confess you have, but sure not so much as
the last syllable. Faith, you were somewhat too shrewd;
by my life you could not have took my lord in a worse
time, since I first knew him: tomorrow you shall find him
a new man.
troth, let me persuade you for once.
a little your female spleen, how might you win him!
trusty servant to such a master, and I believe thy reward
in the end will fall out like mine.
so secret to my counsels, as thou hast been to him and his,
I should think it a slight acquittance, not only to make
him master of all I have, but even of myself.
wise, and seest the reward of an old servant daily, what it is.
private to me and my designs, I here protest myself and
all what I can else call mine should be at thy dispose.
you. [To her.] I were not worthy of it by any desert that
could lie within my compass; if I could–
neither think or believe.
you designs are, or against whomsoever, I will not only
be a special actor therein, but never disclose it till it be
your messenger myself. I cannot tell what this letter may
work, but as sure as I am alive, if thou come once to talk
with her, I fear thou wilt mar whatsoever I make.
own letter, I pray?
wouldst thou write a letter and carry it thyself?
for you must think, if she will not believe me myself when
she hears me speak, she will not believe another’s hand-
writing. O, you think I am a blockhead, uncle! No, sir,
Poggio knows I have indited a letter myself, so I have.
fair, and lie as fast as any that loves you, but my uncle
being the elder man, I leave it to him, as more fit for his age
and the color of his beard. I am wise enough to tell you I
can bourd where I see occasion; or if you like my uncle’s
wit better than mine, you shall marry me; if you like mine
better than this, I will marry you in spite of your teeth. So
commending my best parts to you, I rest– Yours upwards
and downwards, or you may choose, Bergetto.”
did you take in this learned letter?
own brain, I thank a good wit for’t.
and fopperies, till I come back, you were as good not; look
I do commend him to her every night before her first
sleep, because I would have her dream of him, and she hear-
kens to that most religiously.
behalf; sha’ not be lost labor, take my word for’t.
mind, let me alone to work.
for nothing, masters: and how, and how is’t? What, you
have read my letter? Ah, there I – tickled you i’faith!
fellow would needs take the wall of me, and because he
did thrust me, I very valiantly call’d him rogue. He here-
upon bade me draw: I told him I had more wit than so,
but when he saw that I would not, he did so maul me with
the hilts of his rapier that my head sung whilst my feet
caper’d in the kennel.
mine ears, and then I could not choose but find in my
heart to cry; till a fellow with a broad beard – they say
he is a new-come doctor – call’d me into his house, and
gave me a plaster – look you, here ’tis – and, sir, there was
a young wench wash’d my face and hands most excellently,
i’faith, I shall love her as long as I live for’t, did she not,
some wit into it; for I fear thou never wilt have any.
heart good to have look’d on her –by this light she had
a face methinks worth twenty of you, Mistress Annabella.
have given him the lie, uncle, and so have deserv’d a dry
beating again; I’ll none of that.
letters: now you are dismiss’d, your mistress here will none
enough in Parma for a half-a-crown apiece, cannot I, Poggio?
again tomorrow. Farewell, mistress.
he shall know I have a sconce now.
of his nose, Poggio.
She hath in a manner promised you already.
point she gave me and the box of marmalade?
sight on’t. There’s no way but to clap up a marriage in
methinks, and my courage begins to rise.
cart whores at their own charges, and break the duke’s
peace ere I have done myself. –Come away.
quickly, I say.
sickness, an over-flux of youth, and then, sir, there is no such
present remedy as present marriage. But hath she given you
an absolute denial?
and sham’d forever; your sister, O your sister!
know what you have done; Heaven forgive ’ee! ’Tis too late
to repent now, Heaven help us.
meanings of qualms and water-pangs be? Of changing of
colors, queasiness of stomachs, pukings, and another
thing that I could name? Do not, for her and your credit’s
sake, spend the time in asking how, and which way, ’tis so;
she is quick, upon my word: if you let a physician see her
water, y’are undone.
and she must look for often henceforward.
but kiss thee once more for that word “sweetheart.” –
Poggio, I have a monstrous swelling about my stomach,
whatsoever the matter be.
am wet before and behind. –Lights, lights! ho, lights!
I shall boil over else; my whole body is in a sweat, that you
may wring my shirt; feel here–Why, Poggio!
me. Poggio, commend me to my uncle, dost hear? Bid him
for my sake make much of this wench. O!–I am going
the wrong way sure, my belly aches so. –O, farewell,
I am infinitely yours.
ment as I am like to climb to.
naked weapon in his hand all bloody, get into my lord
cardinal’s grace’s gate, that we are sure of; but for fear of
his grace, bless us, we durst go no further.
lov’d your daughter, sir, an’t please ye; ’twas he for certain.
of Parma, in honor to Madam Annabella’s marriage, have
sent their loves to her in a masque, for which they humbly
crave your patience and silence.
Treachery hath kill’d you; I must not marry you.
kindled others and burnt thyself; troppo sperar, inganna,
thy vain hope hath deceived thee, thou art but dead; if
thou hast any grace, pray.
woman, had privately corrupted me with promise of
marriage, under this politic reconciliation, to poison
my lord, whiles she might laugh at his confusion on his
marriage day. I promise’d her fair, but I knew what my
reward should have been; and would willingly have
spar’d her life, but that I was acquainted with the danger
of her disposition, and now have fitted her a just payment
in her own coin. There she is, she hath yet––and end
thy days in peace, vile woman; as for life there’s no hope,
think not on’t.
and kill her in your rage too? O, ’twere most unmanlike.
She is your wife: what faults hath been done by her before
she married you, were not against you; alas, poor lady, what
hath she committed which any lady in Italy in the like case
would not? Sir, you must be ruled by your reason and
not by your fury, that were unhuman and beastly.
of her present misfortunes, I warrant’ee; ’tis an unconscion-
able demand, and she should lose the estimation that I,
for my part, hold of her worth, if she had done it. Why,
sir, you ought not all men living to know it: good sir,
be reconciled; alas, good gentlewoman!
of a gallant spirit, and beshrew my heart, but it becomes her
rarely. [Aside to Soranzo.] Sir, in any case smother
your revenge; leave the scenting-out your wrongs to me;
be rul’d, as you respect your honor, or you mar all. [Aloud.] Sir, if ever my service were of any credit with you, be not so
violent in your distractions. You are married now; what a
triumph might the report of this give to other neglected
suitors! ’Tis as manlike to bear extremities as godlike to
and moving; ’tis for the purpose.
so much I pity him; why, madam, I knew when his rage was
over-past, what it would come to.
of your heaven of happiness now, sir?
marry a great woman, being made great in the stock to
your hand, is a usual sport in these says; but to know
what ferret it was that haunted your cony-berry, there’s
sufferance a little while; go to her, use her mildly, win her
if it be possible to a voluntary, to a weeping tune; for the
rest, if all hit, I will not miss my mark. Pray, sir, go in; the
next news I tell you shall be wonders.
of a bad matter in my head a pretty whiles ago; but after
my madam’s scurvy looks here at home, her waspish
perverseness and loud fault-finding, then I remember’d
the proverb, that where hens crow and cocks hold their
peace there are sorry houses. ’Sfoot, if the lower parts of a
she-tailor’s cunning can cover such a swelling in the
stomach, I’ll never blame a false stitch in a shoe whiles I
live again. Up and up so quick? And so quickly too?
’Twere a fine policy to learn by whom this must be known;
and I have thought on’t –here’s the way, or none. Enter Putana.
What, crying, old mistress! Alas, alas, I cannot blame ’ee,
we have a lord, Heaven help us, is so mad as the devil
himself, the more shame for him.
use thee so too, sometimes, Vasques?
mind, I know what we would do; as sure as I am an honest
man, he will go near to kill my lady with unkindness.
Say she be with child, is that such a matter for a young
woman of her years to be blam’d for?
confess whose ’tis, which he will know, and when he doth
know it, I am so well acquainted with his humor, that he
will forget all straight. Well, I could wish she would in
plain terms tell all, for that’s the way indeed.
force. He was once in a mind that you could tell, and
meant to have wrung it out of you, but I somewhat pacified
him for that; yet sure you know a great deal.
she loves you dearly, and you would not betray her to any
affliction for the world.
should both relieve her present discomforts, pacify my
lord, and gain yourself everlasting love and preferment.
danger. Faith, I think ’twas no base fellow.
lady. O, they love most perpetually!
choice. –Better and better! –You are sure ’twas he?
Vasques, I have known their dealings too long to belie
damnable hag, gag her instantly, and put out her eyes.
fumble about? Let me come to her; I’ll help your old
gums, you toad-bellied bitch. Sirs, carry her closely into the
coalhouse, and put out her eyes instantly; if she roars, slit her
nose: d’ee hear, be speedy and sure. Why, this is excellent
and above expectation. Exeunt [Banditti] with Putana.
Her own brother! O horrible! To what a height of liberty
in damnation hath the devil train’d our age, her brother!
Well, there’s yet but a beginning: I must to my lord, and
tutor him better in his points of vengeance; now I see
how a smooth tale goes beyond a smooth tail. But soft–
What thing comes next? Enter Giovanni.
Giovanni! As I would wish; my belief is strengthen’d,
’tis as firm as winter and summer.
made me your servant, and ever shall, ever. Exit Giovanni. Enter Soranzo.
Sir, I am made a man, I have plied my cue with cunning
and success; I beseech you let’s be private.
How have you dealt with my lady?
know; I would not talk so openly with you. Let my young
master take time enough, and go at pleasure; he is sold to
death, and the devil shall not ransom him. Sir, I beseech
you, your privacy.
herself away upon you but to laugh at your horns, to feast
on your disgrace, riot in your vexations, cuckold you in
your bride-bed, waste your estate upon panders and bawds!
your own resolution; remember that time lost cannot be
incest and cuckoldry.
feast in honor of his birthday, by me invites you thither.
Your worthy father, with the Pope’s reverend nuncio, and
other magnificoes of Parma, have promis’d their presence;
will’t please you to be of the number?
bloody enough, and as unmerciful as if you were preying
upon a rich booty on the very mountains of Liguria; for
your pardons, trust to my lord, but for reward you shall
trust none but your own pockets.
keep as much silence as you can possibly. You know the
watchword; till which be spoken, move not, but when you
hear that, rush in like a stormy flood; I need not instruct
ye in your own profession.
see nothing is unready to this great work, but a great mind
in you: call to your remembrance your disgraces, your
loss of honor, Hippolita’s blood, and arm your courage
in your own wrongs; so shall you best right those wrongs
in vengeance, which you may truly call your own.
young incest-monger comes, he will be sharp set on his
old bit: give him time enough, let him have your chamber
and bed at liberty; let my hot hare have law ere he be
hunted to his death, that if it be possible, he may post to
hell in the very act of his damnation.
and glut himself in his own destruction. Flourish.
Hark, the nuncio is at hand; good sir, be ready to receive
insolent in your butcheries? Have at you!
I shall fit you anon. –Vengeance!
shift for yourselves! Your reward is your own: shift for
lord and master.
ended, I have paid the duty to the son which I have vowed
to the father.
lord, I am by birth a Spaniard, brought forth my country
in my youth by Lord Soranzo’s father, whom whilst he
liv’d I serv’d faithfully; since whose death I have been
to this man as I was to him. What I have done was duty,
and I repent nothing but that the loss of my life had not
caus’d to be put out, but kept alive, to confirm what from
Giovanni’s own mouth you have heard. Now, my lord, what
I have done you may judge of, and let your own wisdom be
a judge in your own reason.
to the son as I was to the father.
Spaniard outwent an Italian in revenge.