John Marston

“ Herod. Why, Fawn, why?
Herc. ’Fore heaven! you are blest with three rare graces—fine linen, clean linings, a sanguine complexion, and I am sure, an excellent wit, for you are a gentleman born. 60
Herod. Thank thee, sweet Fawn; but why is clean linen such a grace, I prithee?
Herc. O, my excellent and inward dearly-approved friend! What’s your name, sir? Clean linen is the first our life craves, and the last our death enjoys.
Herod. But what hope rests for Nymphadoro? Thou art now within the buttons of the prince. Shall the duke his father marry the lady?
Herc. ’Tis to be hoped not. ”

“ Lust’s like the plummets hanging on clock-lines,
Will ne’er ha’ done till all is quite undone; 10
Such is the course salt sallow lust doth run;
Which thou shalt try. I’ll be reveng’d. Duke, thy suspect;
Duchess, thy disgrace; Ferneze, thy rivalship;
Shall have swift vengeance. Nothing so holy,
No band of nature so strong,
No law of friendship so sacred,
But I’ll profane, burst, violate, ’fore I’ll
Endure disgrace, contempt, and poverty. ”

“ Up, Ariadne, thy clear beauty rouse,
Thou Northern Crown to lusty Bacchus’ spouse,
Let’s mix our glories to outblaze your flame;
To be outshone is Heaven’s and great hearts’ shame.
Look down; know’st them? See how their fronts rebate
Splendour like Jove and beauty worth our state!
Hath our bright brother, the fair Lord of days,
Into their eyes shed his us-dark’ning rays?
Or hath some daring spirit forgot Jove’s ire
And to grace them stol’n his celestial fire?
We are not Phœbe, this is not Heaven’s story;
Place gives not worth, but worth gives place his glory. ”

“ Exit Malheureux.
Free. Now, repentance, the fool’s whip, seize thee;
Nay, if there be no means I’ll be thy friend,
But not thy vices’; and with greatest sense
I’ll force thee feel thy errors to the worst;
The wildest of dangers thou shalt sink into.
No jeweller shall see me; I will lurk
Where none shall know or think; close I’ll withdraw,
And leave thee with two friends—a whore and knave;
But is this virtue in me? No, not pure, 40
Nothing extremely best with us endures ”

“ O blessed state! what a ravishing prospect doth the Olympus of favour yield! Death, I cornute the duke! Sweet women! most sweet ladies! nay, angels! by heaven, he is more accursed than a devil that hates you, or is hated by you; and happier than a god that loves you, or is beloved by you: you preservers of mankind, life-blood of society, who would live, nay, who can live without you? O paradise! how majestical is your austerer presence! how imperiously chaste is your more modest face! ”

“ How fares your honour? Speak, fate-cross’d lord!
If life retain his seat within you, speak!
Else like that Sestian dame, that saw her love
Cast by the frowning billows on the sands,
And lean death, swoll’n big with the Hellespont,
In bleak Leander’s body—like his love,
Come I to thee. One grave shall serve us both!
Men. Stay, miracle of women! yet I breathe. 50
Though death be entered in this tower of flesh,
He is not conqueror; my heart stands out,
And yields to thee, scorning his tyranny!
Lady Len. My doors are vow’d shut, and I cannot help you.
Your wounds are mortal ”

“ But, sir, I will do what a man of my form may do; and laugh on, laugh on, do Sir Amorous—you have a lady, too. 311
Herod. But, my sweet lord——
Zuc. Do not anger me, lest I most dreadfully curse thee, and wish thee married! O, Zuccone, spit white, spit thy gall out. The only boon I crave of Heaven is——But to have my honours inherited by a bastard! I will be most tyrannous—bloodily tyrannous in my revenge, and most terrible in my curses! Live to grow blind with lust, senseless with use, loathed after, flattered before, hated always, trusted never, abhorred ever! ”

“ We wring ourselves into this wretched world,
To pule, and weep, exclaim, to curse and rail,
To fret, and ban the fates, to strike the earth, 210
As I do now. Antonio, curse thy birth,
And die!
Feli. Nay, heaven’s my comfort, now you are perverse:
You know I always loved you; prithee live.
Wilt thou strike dead thy friends, draw mourning tears?
Ant. Alas, Feliche, I ha’ ne’er a friend;
No country, father, brother, kinsman left
To weep my fate or sigh my funeral:
I roll but up and down, and fill a seat
In the dark cave of dusky misery. 220
Feli. ”

“ O ’tis a most fluent and swelling virtue; sure the most just of all virtues: ’tis justice itself; for, if it chance to oppress and take too much, it presently restores it again. It makes the king and the peasant equal; for, if they are both drunk alike, they are both beasts alike. As for that most precious light of heaven—Truth—if Time be the father of her, I am sure Drunkenness is oftentimes the mother of her, and brings her forth. Drunkenness brings all out, for it brings all the drink out of the pot, all the wit out of the pate, and all the money out of the purse. ”

“ Lady, think bold intrusion courtesy;
’Tis but imagination alters them;
Then ’tis your thoughts, not I, that do offend.
Isa. Sir, your intrusion yet ’s but courtesy,
Unless your future humour alter it.
Sago. Why then, divinest woman, know my soul
Is dedicated to thy shrine of beauty, 70
To pray for mercy, and repent the wrongs
Done against love and female purity.
Thou abstract, drawn from nature’s empty storehouse,
I am thy slave; command my sword, my heart;
The soul is tried best by the body’s smart. ”

“ Exeunt Pietro, Ferrardo, Bilioso, Celso, and Equato.
Aur. Despite go with thee!
Men. Madam, you ha’ done me foul disgrace; you have wronged him much loves you too much: go to, your soul knows you have.
Aur. I think I have.
Men. Do you but think so?
Aur. Nay, sure, I have: my eyes have witnessed thy love: thou hast stood too firm for me.
Men. Why, tell me, fair-cheeked lady, who even in tears art powerfully beauteous, what unadvised passion struck ye into such a violent heat against me? Speak, what mischief wronged us? what devil injured us? speak. ”

“ Worthy thy wife: go with as high a hand
As worth can rear. I will not stay my lord.
Fight for our country; vent thy youthful heat
In field, not beds: the fruit of honour, Fame,
Be rather gotten than the oft disgrace
Of hapless parents, children. Go, best man,
And make me proud to be a soldier’s wife,
That values his renown above faint pleasures: 220
Think every honour that doth grace thy sword
Trebles my love. By thee I have no lust
But of thy glory. Best lights of heaven with thee!
Like wonder, stand or fall; so, though thou die,
My fortunes may be wretched, but not I.
Mass. ”

“ The Paradox of it is, that if it be hanged on the top of our Maypole, it draws to us all the young lads and lasses near adjoining, without power to part till we strike sail ourselves. And now I have named our Maypole, go bring it forth, though it be more cumbersome than the Trojan horse: bring it by force of arms, and see you fix it fast in the midst of this place, lest, when you encircle it with your capricious dances, it falls from the foundation, lights upon some lady’s head, and cuffs off her perriwig. But now for the glory of Athens! ”

“ Faith, I know not what; an hermaphrodite, two parts in one; my true person being Antonio, son to the Duke of Genoa; though for the love of Mellida, Piero’s daughter, I take this feigned presence of an Amazon, calling myself Florizell, and I know not what. I a voice to play a lady! I shall ne’er do it.
Alb. O! an Amazon should have such a voice, virago-like. Not play two parts in one? away, away, ’tis common fashion. Nay, if you cannot bear two subtle fronts under one hood, idiot, go by, go by, off this world’s stage! O time’s impurity! ”

“ Yet ’tis bad chance: states must not stick too nice,
For Massinissa’s death sense bids forgive: 70
Beware t’offend great men, and let them live;
For ’tis of empire’s body the main arm,—
He that will do no good shall do no harm.
You have my mind.
Gel. Although a stage-like passion, and weak heat,
Full of an empty wording, might suit age,
Know I’ll speak strongly truth. Lords, ne’er mistrust,
That he who’ll not betray a private man
For his country, will ne’er betray his country
For private men; then give Gelosso faith. ”

“ I must be a lady, and I will be a lady. I like some humours of the city-dames well: to eat cherries [22] only at an angel a pound, good; to dye rich scarlet, black, pretty; to line a grogram gown clean thorough with velvet, tolerable; their pure linen, their smocks of three pounds a smock, are to be borne withal. But your mincing niceries, taffeta pipkins, durance [23] petticoats, and silver bodkins—God’s my life, as I shall be a lady, I cannot endure it! Is he come yet? Lord, what a long knight ’tis! ”

“ By the salvation of humanity, he’s more pestilent than the plague of lice that fell upon Egypt; thou hast been knave if thou credit it; thou art an ass if thou follow it; and shalt be a perpetual idiot if thou pursue it: renounce the world, the flesh, the devil, and thy trust in men’s wives, for they will double with thee: and so I betake myself to the sucking of the juice capon, my ingle bottle-ale, and his gentleman usher, that squirers him, red herring. A fool I found thee and a fool I leave thee; bear record, Heaven, ’tis against the providence of my speech. ”

“ Why, man, we are all philosophical monarchs
Or natural fools. Celso, the court’s a-fire;
The duchess’ sheets will smoke for’t ere’t be long:
Impure Mendoza, that sharp-nos’d lord, that made
The cursèd match link’d Genoa with Florence,
Now broad-horns the duke, which he now knows.
Discord to malcontents is very manna: 250
When the ranks are burst, then scuffle, Altofront.
Celso. Ay, but durst——
Mal. ’Tis gone; ’tis swallow’d like a mineral:
Some way ’twill work; pheut, I’ll not shrink:
He’s resolute who can no lower sink.
Bilioso re-entering, Malevole shifteth his speech. ”

“ I will not deny there is a seemly decorum to be observed, and a peculiar kind of speech for a satire’s lips, which I can willinglier conceive than dare to prescribe; yet let me have the substance rough, not the shadow. I cannot, nay, I will not delude your sight with mists; yet I dare defend my plainness against the verjuice-face of the crabbed’st satirist that ever stuttered. He that thinks worse of my rhymes than myself, I scorn him, for he cannot: he that thinks better, is a fool. So favour me, Good Opinion, as I am far from being a Suffenus. ”

“ Palace of the Duke of Urbin.
Enter Faunus and Nymphadoro.
Nym. Faith, Fawn, ’tis my humour, the natural sin of my sanguine complexion. I am most enforcedly in love with all women, almost affecting them all with an equal flame.
Herc. An excellent justice of an upright virtue: you love all God’s creatures with an unpartial affection.
Nym. Right; neither am I inconstant to any one in particular.
Herc. Tho’ you love all in general, true; for when you vow a most devoted love to one, you swear not to tender a most devoted love to another; and indeed why should any man over-love anything? ”

“ Seven-score pound art thou out in the cash; but look to it, I will not be gallanted out of my moneys. And as for my rising by other men’s fall, God shield me! did I gain my wealth by ordinaries? no: by exchanging of gold? no: by keeping of gallants’ company? no. I hired me a little shop, fought low, took small gain, kept no debt-book, garnished my shop, for want of plate, with good wholesome thrifty sentences; as, “Touchstone, keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee;” “Light gains makes heavy purses;” “’Tis good to be merry and wise.” ”

“ Surely I desire to satisfy every firm spirit, who, in all his actions, proposeth to himself no more ends than God and virtue do, whose intentions are always simple: to such I protest that, with my free understanding, I have not glanced at disgrace of any, but of those whose unquiet studies labour innovation, contempt of holy policy, reverend, comely superiority, and established unity: for the rest of my supposed tartness, I fear not but unto every worthy mind it will be approved so general and honest as may modestly pass with the freedom of a satire. ”

“ O, sir, this were too great ambition! Well, I love and am beloved of a great many; for I court all in the way of honour, in the trade of marriage, Fawn; but above all, I affect the princess,—she’s my utmost end. O, I love a lady whose beauty is joined with fortune, beyond all! yet one of beauty without fortune, for some uses; nay, one of fortune without beauty, for some ends; but never any that has neither fortune nor beauty, but for necessity ”

“ Nay, hark you, sir; what nurses, what midwives, what fools, what physicians, what cunning women must be sought for (fearing sometimes she is bewitched, sometimes in a consumption) , to tell her tales, to talk bawdy to her, to make her laugh, to give her glisters, to let her blood under the tongue and betwixt the toes; how she will revile and kiss you, spit in your face, and lick it off again; how she will vaunt you are her creature; she made you of nothing; how she could have had thousand mark jointures; she could have been made a lady by a Scotch knight, and never ha’ married him ”

“ Enter Bilioso and Prepasso, two Pages before them; Maquerelle, Bianca, and Emilia.
Bil. Make room there, room for the ladies! why, gentlemen, will not ye suffer the ladies to be entered in the great chamber? why, gallants! and you, sir, to drop your torch where the beauties must sit too!
Pre. And there’s a great fellow plays the knave; why dost not strike him?
Bil. Let him play the knave, o’ God’s name; thinkest thou I have no more wit than to strike a great fellow?—The music! more lights! revelling-scaffolds! do you hear? Let there be oaths enow ready at the door, swear out the devil himself. ”

“ Exit Quicksilver.
To. This is for my credit! servants ever maintain drunkenness in their master’s house for their master’s credit; a good idle serving-man’s reason. I thank time the night is past; I ne’er waked to such cost; I think we have stowed more sorts of flesh in our bellies than ever Noah’s ark received; and for wine, why my house turns giddy with it, and more noise in it than at a conduit. Ay me! even beasts condemn our gluttony. Well, ’tis our city’s fault, which, because we commit seldom, we commit the more sinfully; we lose no time in our sensuality, but we make amends for it. ”

“ Well, Fawn, whom shall I marry now? O Heaven! that God made for a man no other means of procreation and maintaining the world peopled but by women! O! [254] that we could increase like roses, by being slipp’d one from another, [255] —or like flies, procreate with blowing, or any other way than by a woman,—by women, who have no reason in their love or mercy in their hate, no rule in their pity, no pity in their revenge, no judgment to speak, and yet no patience to hold their tongues;
Man’s opposite, the more held down, they swell; 410
Above them naught but will, beneath them naught but hell. ”

“ Re-enter Malevole.
Mal. Your devilship’s ring has no virtue: the buff-captain, the sallow Westphalian gammon-faced zaza cries, “Stand out;” must have a stiffer warrant, or no pass into the castle of comfort.
Men. Command our sudden letter.—Not enter! sha’t: what place is there in Genoa but thou shalt? into my heart, into my very heart: come, let’s love; we must love, we two, soul and body. ”

“ So far is she ill-natured to the place and means of my preferment and fortune, that she throws all the contempt and despite hatred itself can cast upon it. Well, a piece of land she has; ’twas her grandmother’s gift; let her, and her Sir Petronel, flash out that; but as for my substance, she that scorns me, as I am a citizen and tradesman, shall never pamper her pride with my industry; shall never use me as men do foxes, keep themselves warm in the skin, and throw the body that bare it to the dunghill. ”

“ Who hath read the book of chance? No, cherish your hope, sweeten your imaginations with thoughts of—ah! why, women are the most giddy, uncertain motions under heaven. ’Tis neither proportion of body, virtue of mind, amplitude of fortune, greatness of blood, but only mere chanceful appetite, sways them; which makes some one like a man, be it but for the paring of his nails. Via! as for inequality, art not a gentleman? ”

“ Duke, I’ll torment thee now; my just revenge 210
From thee than crown a richer gem shall part:
Beneath God, naught’s so dear as a calm heart.
Re-enter Celso.
Celso. My honour’d lord,—
Mal. Peace, speak low, peace! O Celso, constant lord,
(Thou to whose faith I only rest discover’d,
Thou, one of full ten millions of men,
That lovest virtue only for itself;
Thou in whose hands old Ops may put her soul)
Behold forever-banish’d Altofront,
This Genoa’s last year’s duke. O truly noble! ”

“ Physicians abuse remedies; lawyers spoil the law; and women only shame women. You ha’ vow’d my death?
Mal. My lust, not I, before my reason would; yet I must use her. That I, a man of sense, should conceive endless pleasure in a body whose soul I know to be so hideously black! 259
Free. That a man at twenty-three should cry, O sweet pleasure! and at forty-three should sigh, O sharp pox! But consider man furnished with omnipotence, and you overthrow him; thou must cool thy impatient appetite. ’Tis fate, ’tis fate!
Mal. I do malign my creation that I am subject to passion. ”

“ And let me meet thee there on Latmus’ top. 20
’Tis I, whose virtuous hopes are firmly fix’d
On the fruition of thy chaste vow’d love.
Lady Len. My lord,
Your honour made me promise you ascent
Into my house, since my vow barr’d my doors,
By some wit’s engine made for theft and lust;
Yet for your honour, and my humble fame,
Check your blood’s passions, and return, dear lord.
Suspicion is a dog that still doth bite
Without a cause: this act gives food to envy; 30
Swoll’n big, it bursts, and poisons our clear flames.
Men. Envy is stingless when she looks on thee. ”

“ Nay, faith, my conceiving days be done. Marry for kissing, I’ll defend that; that’s within my compass; but for my own part, here’s Mistress Beatrice is to be married with the grace of God; a fine gentleman he is shall have her, and I warrant a strong; he has a leg like a post, a nose like a lion, a brow like a bull, and a beard of most fair expectation: this week you must marry him, and I now will read a lecture to you both, how you shall behave yourselves to your husbands the first month of your nuptial ”

“ I cannot contain,—he saw thee not that left thee.
If there be wisdom, reason, honour, grace,
Of any foolishly-esteemèd virtue,
In giving o’er possession of such beauty,
Let me be vicious, so I may be loved.
Passion, I am thy slave; sweet, it shall be my grace,
That I account thy love my only virtue:
Shall I swear I am thy most vowèd servant?
Fra. Mine vowed? Go! go! go! I cannot more of love. No! no! no! You bin all unconstant. O unfaithful men—tyrants—betrayers—de very enjoying us loseth us; and when you only ha’ made us hateful, you only hate us. ”

“ Conscience does not repine. Were I to bite an honest gentleman, a poor grogaran poet, or a penurious parson that had but ten pigs’ tails in a twelvemonth, and, for want of learning, had but one good stool in a fortnight, I were damn’d beyond the works of supererogation; but to wring the withers of my gouty-barm’d spiggod-frigging jumbler of elements, Mulligrub, I hold it as lawful as sheep-shearing, taking eggs from hens, caudles from asses, or butter’d shrimps from horses—they make no use of them, were not provided for them. And, therefore, worshipful Cocledemoy, hang toasts! ”

“ Shall Sophonisba then
With me go bound, and wait on Scipio’s wheel?
When th’ whole world’s giddy, one man cannot reel.
Mass. Starve thy lean hopes; and, Romans, now behold
A sight would sad the gods, make Phœbus cold.
Organ and recorders play to a single voice. Enter in the meantime the mournful solemnity of Massinissa’s presenting Sophonisba’s body.
Look, Scipio, see what hard shift we make
To keep our vows. Here, take, I yield her thee;
And Sophonisba, I keep vow, thou’rt still free.
Sy. Burst, my vex’d heart: the torture that most racks 40
An enemy is his foe’s royal acts. ”

“ She, whose noble industries hath made her breast rich in true glories and undying habilities? she, that whilst other ladies spend the life of earth, Time, in reading their glass, their jewels, and (the shame of poesy) lustful sonnets, gives her soul meditations—those meditations wings that cleave the air, fan bright celestial fires, whose true reflection makes her see herself and them? she whose pity is ever above her envy, loving nothing less than insolent prosperity, and pitying nothing more than virtue destitute of fortune? ”

“ Beatrice’s chamber.
Enter Beatrice and Crispinella.
Bea. Sister, cannot a woman kill herself? is it not lawful to die when we should not live?
Cri. O sister, ’tis a question not for us; we must do what God will.
Bea. What God will? Alas, can torment be His glory, or our grief His pleasure! Does not the nurse’s nipple, juiced over with wormwood, bid the child it should not suck? And does not Heaven, when it hath made our breath bitter unto us, say we should not live? ”