[Exeunt Gnotho and ᚳCourtezan.

Aga. Nay, I’ll follow thee, and shew myself a wife. I’ll plague thee as long as I live with thee; and I’ll bury some money before I die,[233] that my ghost may haunt thee afterward. [Exit.

SCENE II.

The Country. A Forest.
Enter Cleanthes.
Clean. What’s that? O, nothing but the whispering wind
Breathes through yon churlish hawthorn, that grew rude,
As if it chid the gentle breath that kiss’d it.
I cannot be too circumspect, too careful;
For in these woods lies hid all my life’s treasure,
Which is too much [n]ever to fear to lose,
Though[234] it be never lost: and if our watchfulness
Ought to be wise and serious ’gainst[235] a thief
That comes to steal our goods, things all without us,
That prove[236] vexation often more than comfort;
How mighty ought our providence to be,
To prevent those, if any such there were,
That come to rob our bosom of our joys,
That only make[237] poor man delight to live!
Pshaw! I’m too fearful—fie, fie! who can hurt me?
But ’tis a general cowardice, that shakes
The nerves of confidence: he that hides treasure,
Imagines every one thinks of that place,
When ’tis a thing least minded; nay, let him change
The place continually; where’er it keeps,
There will the fear keep still: yonder’s the store-house
Of all my comfort now—and see! it sends forth
Enter Hippolita from the Wood.
A dear one to me:—Precious chief of women,
How does the good old soul? has he fed well?
Hip. Beshrew me, sir, he made the heartiest meal to-day—
Much good may’t do his health.
Clean. A blessing on thee,
Both for thy news and wish!
Hip. His stomach, sir,
Is better’d wondrously since his concealment.
Clean. Heaven has a blessed work in’t. Come, we’re safe here;
I prithee, call him forth; the air’s much wholesomer.
Hip. Father!
Enter Leonides.
Leon. How[238] sweetly sounds the voice of a good woman!
It is so seldom heard, that, when it speaks,
It ravishes all senses. Lists of honour!
I’ve a joy weeps to see you, ’tis so full,
So fairly fruitful.
Clean. I hope to see you often and return
Loaden with blessings, still to pour on some;
I find ’em all in my contented peace,
And lose not one in thousands; they’re disperst
So gloriously, I know not which are brightest.
I find ’em, as angels are found, by legions:
First, in the love and honesty of a wife,
Which is the chiefest[239] of all temporal blessings;
Next, in yourself, which is the hope and joy
Of all my actions, my affairs, my wishes;
And lastly, which crowns all, I find my soul
Crown’d with the peace of ’em, th’ eternal riches,
Man’s only portion for his heavenly marriage!
Leon. Rise; thou art all obedience, love, and goodness.
I dare say that which thousand fathers cannot,
And that’s my precious comfort; never son
Was in the way more of celestial rising:
Thou art so made of such ascending virtue,
That all the powers of hell can’t[240] sink thee.
[A horn sounded within.
Clean. Ha!
Leon. What was’t disturb’d my joy?
Clean. Did you not hear,
As afar off?
Leon. What, my excellent comfort?[241]
Clean. Nor you?
Hip. I heard a —— [A horn.
Clean. Hark, again!
Leon. Bless my joy,
What ails it on a sudden?
Clean. Now? since lately?
Leon. ’Tis nothing but a symptom of thy care, man.
Clean. Alas, you do not hear well!
Leon. What was’t, daughter?
Hip. I heard a sound twice. [A horn.
Clean. Hark! louder and nearer:
In, for the precious good of virtue, quick, sir!
Louder and nearer yet! at hand, at hand!
[Exit Leonides.
A hunting here! ’tis strange: I never knew
Game follow’d in these woods before.
Enter Evander, Simonides, Courtiers, and Cratilus.
Hip. Now let ’em come, and spare not.
Clean. Ha! ’tis—is’t not the duke?—look sparingly.
Hip. ’Tis he; but what of that? alas, take heed, sir;
Your care will overthrow us.
Clean. Come, it shall not:
Let’s set a pleasant face upon our fears,
Though our hearts shake with horror.—Ha, ha, ha!
Evan. Hark!
Clean. Prithee, proceed;
I’m taken with these light things infinitely,
Since the old man’s decease; ha!—so they parted? ha, ha, ha!
Evan. Why, how should I believe this? look, he’s merry,
As if he had no such charge: one with that care
Could never be so; still he holds his temper,
And ’tis the same still (with no difference)
He brought his father’s corpse to the grave with;
He laugh’d thus then, you know.
First Court. Ay, he may laugh, my lord,
That shews but how he glories in his cunning;
And [is], perhaps, done more to advance his wit,
That only he has over-reach’d the law,[242]
Than to express affection to his father.
Sim. He tells you right, my lord; his own cousin-german
Reveal’d it first to me; a free-tongued woman,
And very excellent at telling secrets.
Evan. If a contempt can be so neatly carried,
It gives me cause of wonder.
Sim. Troth, my lord,
’Twill prove a delicate cozening, I believe:
I’d have no scrivener offer to come near it.
Evan. Cleanthes.
Clean. My lov’d lord.
Evan. Not mov’d a whit,
Constant to lightness[243] still! ’Tis strange to meet you
Upon a ground so unfrequented, sir:
This does not fit your passion; you’re for mirth,
Or I mistake you much.
Clean. But finding it
Grow to a noted imperfection in me,
For any thing too much is vicious,
I come to these disconsolate walks, of purpose,
Only to dull and take away the edge on’t.
I ever had a greater zeal to sadness,
A natural propension,[244] I confess, my lord,
Before that cheerful accident fell out—
If I may call a father’s funeral cheerful,
Without wrong done to duty or my love.
Evan. It seems, then, you take pleasure i’these walks, sir.
Clean. Contemplative content I do, my lord:
They bring into my mind oft meditations
So sweetly precious, that, in the parting,
I find a shower of grace upon my cheeks,
They take their leave so feelingly.
Evan. So, sir!
Clean. Which is a kind of grave delight, my lord.
Evan. And I’ve small cause, Cleanthes, to[245] afford you
The least delight that has a name.
Clean. My lord!
Sim. Now it begins to fadge.
First Court. Peace! thou art so greedy, Sim.
Evan. In your excess of joy you have express’d
Your rancour and contempt against my law:
Your smiles deserve [a] fining; you’ve profess’d
Derision openly, e’en to my face,
Which might be death, a little more incensed.
You do not come for any freedom here,
But for a project of your own:—
But all that’s known to be contentful to thee,
Shall in the use prove deadly. Your life’s mine,
If ever thy presumption do but lead thee
Into these walks again,—ay, or that woman;
I’ll have ’em watch’ a’ purpose.
[Cleanthes retires from the wood, followed by
Hippolita.
First Court. Now, now, his colour ebbs and flows.
Sim. Mark her’s too.
Hip. O, who shall bring food to the poor old man, now!
Speak somewhat, good sir, or we’re lost for ever.
Clean. O, you did wondrous ill to call me again!
There are not words to help us; if I entreat,
’Tis found; that will betray us worse than silence:
Prithee, let heaven alone, and let’s say nothing.
First Court. You’ve struck ’em dumb, my lord.
Sim. Look how guilt looks!
I would not have that fear upon my flesh,
To save ten fathers.
Clean. He is safe still, is he not?
Hip. O, you do ill to doubt it.
Clean. Thou art all goodness.
Sim. Now does your grace believe?
Evan. ’Tis too apparent.
Search, make a speedy search; for the imposture
Cannot be far off, by the fear it sends.
Clean. Ha!
Sim. Has[246] the lapwing’s cunning, I’m afraid, my lord,
That cries most[247] when she’s farthest from the nest.
Clean. O, we’re betray’d!
Hip. Betray’d, sir!
Sim. See, my lord,
It comes out more and more still.
[Simonides and Courtiers enter the wood.
Clean. Bloody thief!
Come from that place; ’tis sacred, homicide!
’Tis not for thy adulterate hands to touch it.
Hip. O miserable virtue, what distress
Art thou in at this minute!
Clean. Help me, thunder,
For my power’s lost! angels, shoot plagues, and help me!
Why are these men in health, and I so heart-sick?
Or why should nature have that power in me
To levy up a thousand bleeding sorrows,
And not one comfort? only make[248] me lie
Like the poor mockery of an earthquake here,
Panting with horror,
And have not so much force in all my vengeance,
To shake a villain off me.[249]
Re-enter Simonides and Courtiers with Leonides.
Hip. Use him gently,
And heaven will love you for’t.
Clean. Father! O father! now I see thee full
In thy affliction[250]; thou’rt a man of sorrow,
But reverently becom’st it, that’s my comfort:
Extremity was never better grac’d
Than with that look of thine; O, let me look still,
For I shall lose it! all my joy and strength [Kneels.
Is e’en eclips’d together. I transgress’d
Your law, my lord, let me receive the sting on’t;
Be once just, sir, and let the offender die:
He’s innocent in all, and I am guilty.
Leon. Your grace knows, when affection only speaks,
Truth is not always there; his love would draw
An undeserved misery on his youth,
And wrong a peace resolv’d, on both parts sinful.
’Tis I am guilty of my own concealment,
And, like a worldly coward, injur’d heaven
With fear to go to’t:—now I see my fault,
I am prepar’d with joy to suffer for’t.
Evan. Go, give him quick despatch, let him see death:
And your presumption, sir, shall come to judgment.

[Exeunt Evander, Courtiers, Simonides; and Cratilus with Leonides.

Hip. He’s going! O, he’s gone, sir!
Clean. Let me rise.
Hip. Why do you not then, and follow?
Clean. I strive for’t:
Is there no hand of pity that will ease me,
And take this villain from my heart awhile? [Rises.
Hip. Alas! he’s gone.
Clean. A worse supplies his place then,
A weight more ponderous; I cannot follow.
Hip. O misery of affliction!
Clean. They will stay
Till I can come; they must be so good ever,
Though they be ne’er so cruel:
My last leave must be taken, think a’ that,
And his[251] last blessing given; I will not lose
That for a thousand comforts.[252]
Hip. That hope’s wretched.
Clean. The unutterable stings of fortune!
All griefs are to be borne save this alone;
This, like a headlong torrent, overturns
The frame of nature:
For he that gives us life first, as a father,
Locks all his natural sufferings in our blood;
The sorrows that he feels are our heart’s too,[253]
They are incorporate to us.
Hip. Noble sir!
Clean. Let me behold thee[254] well.
Hip. Sir!
Clean. Thou shouldst be good,
Or thou’rt a dangerous substance to be lodg’d
So near the heart of man.
Hip. What means this, dear sir?
Clean. To thy trust only was this blessed secret
Kindly committed; ’tis destroy’d, thou seest;
What follows to be thought on’t?
Hip. Miserable!
Why, here’s th’ unhappiness of woman still,
That, having forfeited in old times her[255] trust,
Now makes their faiths suspected that are just.
Clean. What shall I say to all my sorrows then,
That look for satisfaction?
Enter Eugenia.
Eug. Ha, ha, ha! cousin.
Clean. How ill dost thou become this time!
Eug. Ha, ha, ha!
Why, that’s but your opinion; a young wench
Becomes the time at all times.
Now, coz, we’re even: and[256] you be remember’d,
You left a strumpet and a whore at home with me,
And such fine field-bed words, which could not cost you
Less than a father.
Clean. Is it come that way?
Eug. Had you an uncle,
He should go the same way too.
Clean. O eternity!
What monster is this fiend in labour with?
Eug. An ass-colt with two heads, that’s she and you:
I will not lose so glorious a revenge,
Not to be understood in’t; I betray[’d] him;
And now we’re even, you’d best keep you so.
Clean. Is there not poison yet enough to kill me?
Hip. O sir, forgive me! it was I betray’d him.
Clean. How!
Hip. I.
Clean. The fellow of my heart! ’twill speed me, then.
Hip. Her tears that never wept, and mine own pity
E’en cozen’d me together, and stole from me
This secret, which fierce death should not have purchas’d.
Clean. Nay, then we’re at an end; all we are false ones,
And ought to suffer. I was false to wisdom,
In trusting woman; thou wert false to faith,
In uttering of the secret; and thou false
To goodness, in deceiving such a pity:
We are all tainted some way, but thou worst,
And for thy infectious spots ought[st] to die first.
[Offers to kill Eugenia.
Eug. Pray turn your weapon, sir, upon your mistress;
I come not so ill friended.—Rescue, servants!
Re-enter Simonides and Courtiers.
Clean. Are you so whorishly provided?
Sim. Yes, sir,
She has more weapons at command than one.
Eug. Put forward, man; thou art most sure to have me.
Sim. I shall be surer, if I keep behind, though.
Eug. Now, servants, shew your loves.
Sim. I’ll shew my love, too, afar off.
Eug. I love to be so courted; woo me there.
Sim. I love to keep good weapons, though ne’er fought [with].
I’m sharper set within than I am without.
Hip. O gentlemen! Cleanthes!
Eug. Fight! upon him!
Clean.[257] Thy thirst of blood proclaims thee now a strumpet.
Eug. ’Tis dainty, next to procreation fitting;
I’d either be destroying men or getting.
Enter Guard.
First Officer. Forbear, on your allegiance, gentlemen!
He’s the duke’s prisoner, and we seize upon him
To answer this contempt against the law.
Clean. I obey fate in all things.
Hip. Happy rescue!

Sim. I would you’d seized upon him a minute sooner; ’t had saved me a cut finger: I wonder how I came by’t, for I never put my hand forth, I’m sure; I think my own sword did cut it, if truth were known; may be the wire in the handle: I have lived these five and twenty years, and never knew what colour my blood was before. I never durst eat oysters, nor cut peck-loaves.

Eug. You have shewn your spirits, gentlemen; but you
Have cut your finger.
Sim. Ay, the wedding-finger too, a pox on’t!

Court. You’ll prove a bawdy bachelor, Sim, to have a cut upon your finger before you are married.

Sim. I’ll never draw sword again, to have such a jest put upon me. [Exeunt.

ACT V. SCENE I.

A Court of Justice.
Enter Simonides and Courtiers, sword and mace carried before them.
Sim. Be ready with your prisoner; we’ll sit instantly,
And rise before eleven,[258] or when we please;
Shall we not, fellow[259]-judges?
First Court. ’Tis committed
All to our power, censure, and pleasure, now;
The duke hath made us chief lords of this sessions,
And we may speak by fits, or sleep by turns.
Sim. Leave that to us; but, whatsoe’er we do,
The prisoner shall be sure to be condemn’d;
Sleeping or waking, we are resolv’d on that,
Before we sit[260] upon him?
Second Court. Make you question
If not?—Cleanthes! and an[261] enemy!
Nay, a concealer of his father too!
A vild[262] example in these days of youth.
Sim. If they were given to follow such examples;
But sure I think they are not: howsoever,
’Twas wickedly attempted; that’s my judgment,
And it shall pass whilst I am in power to sit.
Never by prince were such young judges made;
But now the cause requires it: if you mark it,
He must make young or none; for all the old ones,
Their fathers,[263] he hath sent a fishing—and
My father’s one, I humbly thank his highness.
Enter Eugenia.
First Court. Widow![264]
Eug. You almost hit my name no[w], gentlemen;
You come so wondrous near it, I admire you
For your judgment.
Sim. My wife that must be! She.
Eug. My husband goes upon his last hour now.
First Court. On his last legs, I am sure.
Sim.[265] September the seventeenth—
I will not bate an hour on’t, and to-morrow
His latest hour’s expir’d.
Second Court. Bring him to judgment;
The jury’s panell’d, and the verdict given
Ere[266] he appears; we have ta’en course for that.
Sim. And officers to attach the gray young man,
The youth of fourscore. Be of comfort, lady;
You[267] shall no longer bosom January;
For that I will take order, and provide
For you a lusty April.
Eug. The month that ought, indeed,
To go before May.
First Court. Do as we have said,
Take a strong guard, and bring him into court.
Lady Eugenia, see this charge perform’d,
That, having his life forfeited by the law,
He may relieve his soul.
Eug. Willingly.
From shaven chins never came better justice
Than these ne’er touch’d by razor.[268] [Exit.
Sim. What you do,
Do suddenly, we charge you, for we purpose
To make but a short sessions:—a new business!
Enter Hippolita.
First Court. The fair Hippolita! now what’s your suit?
Hip. Alas! I know not how to style you yet;
To call you judges doth not suit your years,
Nor heads and beards shew more antiquity;[269]—
Yet sway yourselves with equity and truth,
And I’ll proclaim you reverend, and repeat
Once in my lifetime I have seen grave heads
Plac’d upon young men’s shoulders.
Second Court. Hark! she flouts us,
And thinks to make us monstrous.
Hip. Prove not so;
For yet, methinks, you bear the shapes of men,
(Though nothing more than merely beauty serves[270]
To make you appear angels); but if [you] crimson
Your name and power with blood and cruelty,
Suppress fair virtue, and enlarge bold[271] vice,
Both against heaven and nature, draw your sword,
Make either will or humour turn the soul[272]
Of your created greatness, and in that
Oppose all goodness, I must tell you there
You’re more than monstrous; in the very act
You change yourselves[273] to devils.
First Court. She’s a witch;
Hark! she begins to conjure.
Sim. Time, you see,
Is short, much business now on foot:—shall I
Give her her answer?
Second Court. None upon the bench
More learnedly can do it.
Sim. He, he, hem! then list:
I wonder at thine impudence, young huswife,
That thou dar’st plead for such a base offender.
Conceal a father past his time to die!
What son and heir would have done this but he?
First Court. I vow, not I.
Hip. Because ye are parricides;
And how can comfort be deriv’d from such
That pity not their fathers?
Second Court. You are fresh and fair; practise young women’s ends;
When husbands are distress’d, provide them friends.
Sim. I’ll set him forward for thee without fee:[274]
Some wives would pay for such a courtesy.
Hip. Times of amazement! what duty, goodness dwell[275]——
I sought for charity, but knock at hell. [Exit.
Re-enter Eugenia, and Guard with Lysander.
Sim. Eugenia come! Command a second guard
To bring Cleanthes in; we’ll not sit long;
My stomach strives to dinner.[276]
Eug. Now, servants, may a lady be so bold
To call your power so low?
Sim. A mistress may;
She can make all things low; then in that language
There can be no offence.
Eug. The time’s now come
Of manumissions; take him into bonds,
And I am then at freedom.
Second Court. This the man!
He hath left off [o’] late to feed on snakes;
His beard’s turn’d white again.
First Court. Is’t possible these gouty legs danc’d lately,
And [s]hatter’d in a galliard?
Eug. Jealousy
And fear of death can work strange prodigies.
Second Court. The nimble fencer this, that made me tear
And traverse ’bout the chamber?
Sim. Ay, and gave me
Those elbow-healths, the hangman take him for’t!
They had almost fetch’d my heart out: the Dutch venny[277]
I swallow’d pretty well; but the half-pike
Had almost pepper’d[278] me; but had I took [long-sword],
Being swollen, I had cast my lungs out.