Hip. I!
Bell. You? nay then as cowards do in fight,
 What by blows cannot, shall be saved by flight. [Exit.
Hip. Fly to earth’s fixèd centre: to the caves
 Of everlasting horror, I’ll pursue thee,
 Though loaden with sins, even to hell’s brazen doors.
 Thus wisest men turn fools, doting on whores. [Exit.

SCENE II.—An Apartment in the Duke’s Palace.

Enter the Duke, Lodovico, and Orlando, disguised as a Serving-man; after them Infelice, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, and Fontinell.

Orl. I beseech your grace, though your eye be so piercing as under a poor blue coat to cull out an honest father from an old serving-man, yet, good my lord, discover not the plot to any, but only this gentleman that is now to be an actor in our ensuing comedy.

Duke. Thou hast thy wish, Orlando, pass unknown,
 Sforza shall only go along with thee,
 To see that warrant served upon thy son.

Lod. To attach him upon felony, for two pedlars: is’t not so?

Orl. Right, my noble knight: those pedlars were two knaves of mine; he fleeced the men before, and now he purposes to flay the master. He will rob me; his teeth water to be nibbling at my gold, but this shall hang him by th’ gills, till I pull him on shore.

Duke. Away: ply you the business.

Orl. Thanks to your grace: but, my good lord, for my daughter—

Duke. You know what I have said.

Orl. And remember what I have sworn. She’s more honest, on my soul, than one of the Turks’ wenches, watched by a hundred eunuchs.

Lod. So she had need, for the Turks make them whores.

Orl. He’s a Turk that makes any woman a whore; he’s no true Christian, I’m sure. I commit your grace.

Duke. Infelice.

Inf. Here, sir.

Lod. Signor Friscobaldo.

Orl. Frisking again? Pacheco.

Lod. Uds so, Pacheco? we’ll have some sport with this warrant: ’tis to apprehend all suspected persons in the house. Besides, there’s one Bots a pander, and one Madam Horseleech a bawd, that have abused my friend; those two conies will we ferret into the purse-net.[292]

Orl. Let me alone for dabbing them o’th’ neck: come, come.

Lod. Do ye hear, gallants? meet me anon at Matheo’s.

Car., Ast., &c. Enough. [Exeunt Lodovico and Orlando.

Duke. Th’ old fellow sings that note thou didst before
 Only his tunes are, that she is no whore,
 But that she sent his letters and his gifts,
 Out of a noble triumph o’er his lust,
 To show she trampled his assaults in dust.
Inf. ’Tis a good honest servant, that old man.
Duke. I doubt no less.
Inf. And it may be my husband,
 Because when once this woman was unmasked,
 He levelled all her thoughts, and made them fit,
 Now he’d mar all again, to try his wit.
Duke. It may be so too, for to turn a harlot
 Honest, it must be by strong antidotes;
 ’Tis rare, as to see panthers change their spots.
 And when she’s once a star fixed and shines bright,
 Though ’twere impiety then to dim her light,
 Because we see such tapers seldom burn,
 Yet ’tis the pride and glory of some men,
 To change her to a blazing star again,
 And it may be, Hippolito does no more.
 It cannot be but you’re acquainted all
 With that same madness of our son-in law,
 That dotes so on a courtesan.

All. Yes, my lord.

Car. All the city thinks he’s a whoremonger.

Ast. Yet I warrant he’ll swear no man marks him.

Ber. ’Tis like so, for when a man goes a wenching, it is as if he had a strong stinking breath, every one smells him out, yet he feels it not, though it be ranker than the sweat of sixteen bear warders.

Duke. I doubt then you have all those stinking breaths,
 You might be all smelt out.

Car. Troth, my lord, I think we are all as you ha’ been in your youth when you went a-maying, we all love to hear the cuckoo sing upon other men’s trees.

Duke. It’s well; yet you confess. But, girl, thy bed
 Shall not be parted with a courtesan.
 ’Tis strange,
 No frown of mine, no frown of the poor lady,
 My abused child, his wife, no care of fame,
 Of honour, heaven, or hell, no not that name
 Of common strumpet, can affright, or woo him
 To abandon her; the harlot does undo him;
 She has bewitched him, robbed him of his shape,
 Turned him into a beast, his reason’s lost;
 You see he looks wild, does he not?
Car. I ha’ noted new moons
 In’s face, my lord, all full of change.
Duke. He’s no more like unto Hippolito,
 Than dead men are to living—never sleeps,
 Or if he do, it’s dreams: and in those dreams
 His arms work, and then cries, Sweet—what’s her name,
 What’s the drab’s name?
Ast. In troth, my lord, I know not,
 I know no drabs, not I.
Duke. Oh, Bellafront!—
 And, catching her fast, cries, My Bellafront!

Car. A drench that’s able to kill a horse, cannot kill this disease of smock smelling, my lord, if it have once eaten deep.

Duke. I’ll try all physic, and this medicine first:
 I have directed warrants strong and peremptory
 To purge our city Milan, and to cure
 The outward parts, the suburbs, for the attaching
 Of all those women, who like gold want weight,
 Cities, like ships, should have no idle freight.

Car. No, my lord, and light wenches are no idle freight; but what’s your grace’s reach in this?

Duke. This, Carolo. If she whom my son doats on,
 Be in that muster-book enrolled, he’ll shame
 Ever t’approach one of such noted name.
Car. But say she be not?
Duke. Yet on harlots’ heads
 New laws shall fall so heavy, and such blows shall
 Give to those that haunt them, that Hippolito
 If not for fear of law, for love to her,
 If he love truly, shall her bed forbear.

Car. Attach all the light heels i’th’ city, and clap ’em up? why, my lord, you dive into a well unsearchable: all the whores within the walls, and without the walls? I would not be he should meddle with them for ten such dukedoms; the army that you speak on is able to fill all the prisons within this city, and to leave not a drinking room in any tavern besides.

Duke. Those only shall be caught that are of note;
 Harlots in each street flow:
 The fish being thus i’th net, ourself will sit,
 And with eye most severe dispose of it.
 Come, girl. [Exeunt Duke and Infelice.

Car. Arraign the poor whores!

Ast. I’ll not miss that sessions.

Font. Nor I.

Ber. Nor I, though I hold up my hand there myself. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.—A Room in Matheo’s House.

Enter Matheo, Lodovico, and Orlando disguised as a Serving-man.

Mat. Let who will come, my noble chevalier, I can but play the kind host, and bid ’em welcome.

Lod. We’ll trouble your house, Matheo, but as Dutchmen do in taverns, drink, be merry, and be gone.

Orl. Indeed, if you be right Dutchmen, if you fall to drinking, you must be gone.

Mat. The worst is, my wife is not at home; but we’ll fly high, my generous knight, for all that: there’s no music when a woman is in the concert.

Orl. No; for she’s like a pair of virginals,
 Always with jacks at her tail.

Enter Astolfo, Carolo, Beraldo and Fontinell.

Lod. See, the covey is sprung.

Ast., Car., &c. Save you, gallants.

Mat. Happily encountered, sweet bloods.

Lod. Gentlemen, you all know Signor Candido, the linen-draper, he that’s more patient than a brown baker, upon the day when he heats his oven, and has forty scolds about him.

Ast., Car., &c. Yes, we know him all, what of him?

Lod. Would it not be a good fit of mirth, to make a piece of English cloth of him, and to stretch him on the tenters, till the threads of his own natural humour crack, by making him drink healths, tobacco,[293] dance, sing bawdy songs, or to run any bias according as we think good to cast him?

Car. ’Twere a morris-dance worth the seeing.

Ast. But the old fox is so crafty, we shall hardly hunt him out of his den.

Mat. To that train I ha’ given fire already; and the hook to draw him hither, is to see certain pieces of lawn, which I told him I have to sell, and indeed have such; fetch them down, Pacheco.

Orl. Yes, sir, I’m your water-spaniel, and will fetch any thing—but I’ll fetch one dish of meat anon shall turn your stomach, and that’s a constable. [Aside and exit.

Enter Bots ushering in Mistress Horseleech.

Ast., Ber., Fon. How now? how now?

Car. What gally-foist[294] is this?

Lod. Peace, two dishes of stewed prunes,[295] a bawd and a pander. My worthy lieutenant Bots; why, now I see thou’rt a man of thy word, welcome.—Welcome Mistress Horseleech: pray, gentlemen, salute this reverend matron.

Mis. H. Thanks to all your worships.

Lod. I bade a drawer send in wine, too: did none come along with thee, grannam, but the lieutenant?

Mis. H. None came along with me but Bots, if it like your worship.

Bots. Who the pox should come along with you but Bots.

Enter two Vintners with wine.

Ast., Car., &c. Oh brave! march fair.

Lod. Are you come? that’s well.

Mat. Here’s ordnance able to sack a city.

Lod. Come, repeat, read this inventory.

1st Vint. Imprimis, a pottle of Greek wine, a pottle of Peter-sameene,[296] a pottle of Charnico,[297] and a pottle of Leatica.[298]

Lod. You’re paid?

2nd Vint. Yes, Sir. [Exeunt Vintners.

Mat. So shall some of us be anon, I fear.

Bots. Here’s a hot day towards: but zounds, this is the life out of which a soldier sucks sweetness! when this artillery goes off roundly, some must drop to the ground: cannon, demi-cannon, saker, and basilisk.[299]

Lod. Give fire, lieutenant.

Bots. So, so: Must I venture first upon the breach? to you all, gallants: Bots sets upon you all. [Drinks.

Ast., Car., &c. It’s hard, Bots, if we pepper not you, as well as you pepper us.

Enter Candido.

Lod. My noble linen-draper!—some wine!—Welcome old lad!

Mat. You’re welcome, signor.

Cand. These lawns, sir?

Mat. Presently; my man is gone for them: we ha’ rigged a fleet, you see here, to sail about the world.

Cand. A dangerous voyage, sailing in such ships.

Bots. There’s no casting over board yet.

Lod. Because you are an old lady, I will have you be acquainted with this grave citizen, pray bestow your lips upon him, and bid him welcome.

Mis. H. Any citizen shall be most welcome to me:—I have used to buy ware at your shop.

Cand. It may be so, good madam.

Mis. H. Your prentices know my dealings well; I trust your good wife be in good case: if it please you, bear her a token from my lips, by word of mouth. [Kisses him.

Cand. I pray no more; forsooth, ’tis very well,
 Indeed I love no sweetmeats:—Sh’as a breath
 Stinks worse than fifty polecats. [Aside.] Sir, a word,
 Is she a lady?

Lod. A woman of a good house, and an ancient, she’s a bawd.

Cand. A bawd? Sir, I’ll steal hence, and see your lawns
 Some other time.

Mat. Steal out of such company? Pacheco, my man is but gone for ’em: Lieutenant Bots, drink to this worthy old fellow, and teach him to fly high.

Lod., Ast., &c. Swagger: and make him do’t on his knees.

Cand. How, Bots? now bless me, what do I with Bots?
 No wine in sooth, no wine, good Master Bots.

Bots. Gray-beard, goat’s pizzle: ’tis a health, have this in your guts, or this, there [Touching his sword.] I will sing a bawdy song, sir, because your verjuice face is melancholy, to make liquor go down glib. Will you fall on your marrowbones, and pledge this health? ’Tis to my mistress, a whore.

Cand. Here’s ratsbane upon ratsbane, Master Bots;
 I pray, sir, pardon me: you are a soldier,
 Press me not to this service, I am old,
 And shoot not in such pot-guns.[300]
Bots. Cap. I’ll teach you.
Cand. To drink healths, is to drink sickness—gentlemen.
 Pray rescue me.

Bots. Zounds, who dare?

Lod., Ast., &c. We shall ha’ stabbing then?

Cand. I ha’ reckonings to cast up, good Master Bots.

Bots. This will make you cast ’em up better.

Lod. Why does your hand shake so?

Cand. The palsy, signor, danceth in my blood.

Bots. Pipe with a pox, sir, then, or I’ll make your blood dance—

Cand. Hold, hold, good Master Bots, I drink. [Kneels.[301]

Ast., Lod., &c. To whom?

Cand. To the old countess there. [Drinks.

Mis. H. To me, old boy? this is he that never drunk wine! Once again to’t.

Cand. With much ado the poison is got down,
 Though I can scarce get up; never before
 Drank I a whore’s health, nor will never more.

Re-enter Orlando with lawns.

Mat. Hast been at gallows?

Orl. Yes, sir, for I make account to suffer to day.

Mat. Look, signor; here’s the commodity.

Cand. Your price?

Mat. Thus.[302]

Cand. No: too dear: thus.

Mat. No: O fie, you must fly higher: yet take ’em home, trifles shall not make us quarrel, we’ll agree, you shall have them, and a pennyworth; I’ll fetch money at your shop.

Cand. Be it so, good signor, send me going.

Mat. Going? a deep bowl of wine for Signor Candido.

Orl. He would be going.

Cand. I’ll rather stay than go so: stop your bowl.

Enter Constable and Billmen.

Lod. How now?

Bots. Is’t Shrove-Tuesday, that these ghosts walk?[303]

Mat. What’s your business, sir?

Const. From the duke: you are the man we look for, signor. I have warrant here from the duke, to apprehend you upon felony for robbing two pedlars: I charge you i’th’ duke’s name go quickly.

Mat. Is the wind turned? Well: this is that old wolf, my father-in-law:—seek out your mistress, sirrah.

Orl. Yes, Sir,—as shafts by piecing are made strong,
 So shall thy life be straightened by this wrong. [Aside and exit.

Lod., Ast., &c. In troth, we are sorry.

Mat. Brave men must be crossed; pish, it’s but fortune’s dice roving against me. Come, sir, pray use me like a gentleman; let me not be carried through the streets like a pageant.

Const. If these gentlemen please, you shall go along with them.

Lod., Ast., &c. Be’t so: come.

Const. What are you, sir?

Bots. I, sir? sometimes a figure, sometimes a cipher, as the State has occasion to cast up her accounts: I’m a soldier.

Const. Your name is Bots, is’t not?

Bots. Bots is my name; Bots is known to this company.

Const. I know you are, sir: what’s she?

Bots. A gentlewoman, my mother.

Const. Take ’em both along.

Bots. Me, sir?

Billmen. Ay, sir!

Const. If he swagger, raise the street.

Bots. Gentlemen, gentlemen, whither will you drag us?

Lod. To the garden house. Bots, are we even with you?

Const. To Bridewell with ’em.

Bots. You will answer this.

Const. Better than a challenge. I’ve warrant for my work, sir.

Lod. We’ll go before.

Const. Pray do.—

[Exeunt Matheo with Lodovico, Astolfo, Carolo, Beraldo, and Fontinell; Bots and Mistress Horseleech, with Billmen.

Who, Signor Candido? a citizen
 Of your degree consorted thus, and revelling
 In such a house?
Cand. Why, sir? what house, I pray?
Const. Lewd, and defamed.
Cand. Is’t so? thanks, sir: I’m gone.

Const. What have you there?

Cand. Lawns which I bought, sir, of the gentleman that keeps the house.

Const. And I have warrant here,
 To search for such stol’n ware: these lawns are stol’n.
Cand. Indeed!
Const. So he’s the thief, you the receiver:
 I’m sorry for this chance, I must commit you.
Cand. Me, sir, for what?
Const. These goods are found upon you,
 And you must answer’t.
Cand. Must I so?
Const. Most certain.
Cand. I’ll send for bail.
Const. I dare not: yet because
 You are a citizen of worth, you shall not
 Be made a pointing stock, but without guard,
 Pass only with myself.
Cand. To Bridewell too?
Const. No remedy.
Cand. Yes, patience: being not mad,
 They had me once to Bedlam, now I’m drawn
 To Bridewell, loving no whores.
Const. You will buy lawn! [Exeunt.

ACT THE FIFTH.

SCENE I.—A Street.

Enter at one side Hippolito; at the other, Lodovico, Astolfo, Carolo, Beraldo and Fontinell.

Lod. Yonder’s the Lord Hippolito; by any means leave him and me together; now will I turn him to a madman.

Ast., Car., &c. Save you my lord.

[Exeunt all except Hippolito and Lodovico.

Lod. I ha’ strange news to tell you.

Hip. What are they?

Lod. Your mare’s i’th’ pound.

Hip. How’s this?

Lod. Your nightingale is in a limebush.

Hip. Ha?

Lod. Your puritanical honest whore sits in a blue gown.[304]

Hip. Blue gown!

Lod. She’ll chalk out your way to her now: she beats chalk.

Hip. Where? who dares?—

Lod. Do you know the brick-house of castigation, by the river side[305] that runs by Milan,—the school where they pronounce no letter well but O?

Hip. I know it not.

Lod. Any man that has borne office of constable, or any woman that has fallen from a horse-load to a cart-load,[306] or like an old hen that has had none but rotten eggs in her nest, can direct you to her: there you shall see your punk amongst her back-friends.

There you may have her at your will,
 For there she beats chalk, or grinds in the mill[307]
 With a whip deedle, deedle, deedle, deedle;
 Ah little monkey.

Hip. What rogue durst serve that warrant, knowing I loved her?

Lod. Some worshipful rascal, I lay my life.
Hip. I’ll beat the lodgings down about their ears
 That are her keepers.
Lod. So you may bring an old house over her head.
Hip. I’ll to her—
 I’ll to her, stood armed fiends to guard the doors. [Exit.
Lod. Oh me! what monsters are men made by whores!
 If this false fire do kindle him, there’s one faggot
 More to the bonfire. Now to my Bridewell birds;
 What song will they sing? [Exit.

SCENE II.—An Apartment in Bridewell.

Enter Duke, Infelice, Carolo, Astolfo, Beraldo, Fontinell, and several Masters of Bridewell.

Duke. Your Bridewell? that the name? for beauty, strength,
 Capacity and form of ancient building,
 Besides the river’s neighbourhood, few houses
 Wherein we keep our court can better it.
1st Mast. Hither from foreign courts have princes come,
 And with our duke did acts of State commence,
 Here that great cardinal had first audience,
 The grave Campayne; that duke dead, his son
 That famous prince gave free possession
 Of this, his palace, to the citizens,
 To be the poor man’s ware-house; and endowed it
 With lands to the value of seven hundred marks,[308]
 With all the bedding and the furniture, once proper,
 As the lands then were, to an hospital
 Belonging to a Duke of Savoy. Thus
 Fortune can toss the world; a prince’s court
 Is thus a prison now.
Duke. ’Tis Fortune’s sport:
 These changes common are: the wheel of fate
 Turns kingdoms up, till they fall desolate.
 But how are these seven hundred marks by th’ year
 Employed in this your work-house?
1st Mast. War and peace
 Feed both upon those lands: when the iron doors
 Of war burst open, from this house are sent
 Men furnished in all martial complement.
 The moon hath thorough her bow scarce drawn to th’ head,
 Like to twelve silver arrows, all the months,
 Since sixteen hundred soldiers went abroad.
 Here providence and charity play such parts,
 The house is like a very school of arts,
 For when our soldiers, like ships driven from sea,
 With ribs all broken, and with tattered sides,
 Cast anchor here again, their ragged backs
 How often do we cover! that, like men,
 They may be sent to their own homes again.
 All here are but one swarm of bees, and strive
 To bring with wearied thighs honey to the hive.
 The sturdy beggar, and the lazy loon,
 Gets here hard hands, or laced correction.
 The vagabond grows staid, and learns t’obey,
 The drone is beaten well, and sent away.
 As other prisons are, some for the thief,
 Some, by which undone credit gets relief
 From bridled debtors; others for the poor,
 So this is for the bawd, the rogue, the whore.
Car. An excellent team of horse!
1st Mast. Nor is it seen
 That the whip draws blood here, to cool the spleen
 Of any rugged bencher; nor does offence
 Feel smart on spiteful, or rash evidence:
 But pregnant testimony forth must stand,
 Ere justice leave them in the beadle’s hand,
 As iron, on the anvil are they laid,
 Not to take blows alone, but to be made
 And fashioned to some charitable use.
Duke. Thus wholsom’st laws spring from the worst abuse.

Enter Orlando, disguised as a Serving-man, and Bellafront.

Bell. Let mercy touch your heart-strings, gracious lord,
 That it may sound like music in the ear
 Of a man desperate, being i’th’ hands of law.

Duke. His name?

Bell. Matheo.

Duke. For a robbery? where is he?

Bell. In this house. [Exeunt Bellafront and 2nd Master.

Duke. Fetch you him hither—Is
 this the party?

Orl. This is the hen, my lord, that the cock with the lordly comb, your son-in-law, would crow over, and tread.

Duke. Are your two servants ready?

Orl. My two pedlars are packed together, my good lord.
Duke. ’Tis well: this day in judgment shall be spent:
 Vice, like a wound lanced, mends by punishment.
Inf. Let me be gone, my lord, or stand unseen;
 ’Tis rare when a judge strikes, and that none die,
 And ’tis unfit then women should be by.
1st Mast. We’ll place you, lady, in some private room.

Inf. Pray do so. [Exit with 1st Master, who returns alone.

Orl. Thus nice dames swear, it is unfit their eyes
 Should view men carved up for anatomies,[309]
 Yet they’ll see all, so they may stand unseen;
 Many women sure will sin behind a screen.

Enter Lodovico.

Lod. Your son, the Lord Hippolito, is entered.

Duke. Tell him we wish his presence. A word, Sforza;
 On what wings flew he hither?

Lod. These—I told him his lark whom he loved, was a Bridewell-bird; he’s mad that this cage should hold her, and is come to let her out.

Duke. ’Tis excellent: away, go call him hither. [Exit Lodovico.

Re-enter on one side 2nd Master and Bellafront with Matheo, and Constable; on the other, Lodovico with Hippolito. Orlando goes out, and returns with two of his Servants disguised as Pedlars.

Duke. You are to us a stranger, worthy lord,
 ’Tis strange to see you here.