Enter Candido with Constable, who presently goes out.

In Bridewell, Candido?

Can. Yes, my good lord.

Duke. What make you here?

Can. My lord, what make you here?

Duke. I’m here to save right, and to drive wrong hence.
Can. And I to bear wrong here with patience.
Duke. You ha’ bought stoln goods.
Can. So they do say, my lord;
Yet bought I them upon a gentleman’s word;
And I imagine now, as I thought then,
That there be thieves, but no thieves gentlemen.
Hip. Your credit’s crack’d being here.
Can. No more than gold
Being crack’d, which does his estimation hold.
I was in Bedlam once, but was I mad?
They made me pledge whores’ healths, but am I bad
Because I’m with bad people?
Duke. Well, stand by:
If you take wrong, we’ll cure the injury.
Re-enter Constable, after him Bots, then two Beadles, one with hemp, the other with a beetle.[435]

Stay, stay: what’s he? a prisoner?

Con. Yes, my lord.

Hip. He seems a soldier.

Bots. I am what I seem, sir, one of fortune’s bastards, a soldier and a gentleman, and am brought in here with master constable’s band of billmen,[436] because they face me down that I live, like those that keep bowling-alleys, by the sins of the people, in being a squire of the body.[437]

Hip. O, an apple-squire.[438]

Bots. Yes, sir, that degree of scurvy squires, and that I am maintained by the best part that is commonly in a woman, by the worst players of those parts; but I am known to all this company.

Lod. My lord, ’tis true, we all know him, ’tis lieutenant Bots.

Duke. Bots?—And where ha’ you served, Bots?

Bots. In most of your hottest services in the Low Countries: at the Groyne I was wounded in this thigh, and halted upon’t, but ’tis now sound; in Cleveland I missed but little having the bridge of my nose broken down with two great stones as I was scaling a fort: I ha’ been tried, sir, too, in Guelderland, and scaped hardly there from being blown up at a breach; I was fired, and lay i’ th’ surgeon’s hands for’t till the fall of the leaf following.

Hip. All this may be, and yet you no soldier.

Bots. No soldier, sir? I hope these are services that your proudest commanders do venture upon, and never come off sometimes.

Duke. Well, sir, because you say you are a soldier,
I’ll use you like a gentleman.—Make room there,
Plant him amongst you; we shall have anon
Strange hawks fly here before us: if none light
On you, you shall with freedom take your flight;
But if you prove a bird of baser wing,
We’ll use you like such birds, here you shall sing.
Bots. I wish to be tried at no other weapon.
Duke. Why is he furnish’d with those implements?
First Mas. The pander is more dangerous to a state
Than is the common thief; and though our laws
Lie heavier on the thief, yet, that the pander
May know the hangman’s ruff should fit him too,
Therefore he’s set to beat hemp.
Duke. This does savour
Of justice; basest slaves to basest labour.
Now, pray, set open hell, and let us see
The she-devils that are here.
Inf. Methinks this place
Should make even Lais honest.
First Mas. Some it turns good;
But as some men, whose hands are once in blood,
Do in a pride spill more, so some going hence,
Are, by being here, lost in more impudence.
Let it not to them, when they come, appear
That any one does as their judge sit here,
But that as gentlemen you come to see,
And then perhaps their tongues will walk more free.
Duke. Let them be marshall’d in.
[Exeunt First and Second Masters, Constable,
and Beadles.
Be cover’d all,
Fellows, now to make the scene more comical.

Car. Will not you be smelt out, Bots?

Bots. No; your bravest whores have the worst noses.

Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable, then Dorothea Target, brave;[439] after her two Beadles, the one with a wheel, the other with a blue gown.[440]

Lod. Are not you a bride, forsooth?

Dor. Say ye?

Car. He would know if these be not your bride-men.

Dor. Vuh, yes, sir; and look ye, do you see? the bride-laces that I give at my wedding will serve to tie rosemary[441] to both your coffins when you come from hanging,—scab!

Or. Fie, punk! fie, fie, fie!

Dor. Out, you stale, stinking head of garlic, foh, at my heels!

Or. My head’s cloven.

Hip. O, let the gentlewoman alone, she’s going to shrift.

Ast. Nay, to do penance.

Car. Ay, ay; go, punk, go to the Cross and be whipt.

Dor. Marry mew, marry muff,[442] marry hang you, goodman dog! whipt? do ye take me for a base spittle[443] whore? In troth, gentlemen, you wear the clothes of gentlemen, but you carry not the minds of gentlemen, to abuse a gentlewoman of my fashion.

Lod. Fashion? pox a’ your fashions! art not a whore?

Dor. Goodman slave!

Duke. O fie, abuse her not; let us two talk.—
What mought[444] I call your name, pray?

Dor. I’m not ashamed of my name, sir; my name is mistress Doll Target, a western gentlewoman.

Lod. Her target against any pike in Milan!

Duke. Why is this wheel borne after her?

First Mas. She must spin.

Dor. A coarse thread it shall be, as all threads are.

Ast. If you spin, then you’ll earn money here too?

Dor. I had rather get half-a-crown abroad than ten crowns here.

Or. Abroad? I think so.

Inf. Dost thou not weep now thou art here?

Dor. Say ye? weep? yes, forsooth, as you did when you lost your maidenhead; do you not hear how I weep? [Sings.

Lod. Farewell, Doll!

Dor. Farewell, dog! [Exit with Beadles.

Duke. Past shame, past penitence! Why is that blue gown?
First Mas. Being stript out of her wanton loose attire,
That garment she puts on, base to the eye,
Only to clothe her in humility.
Duke. Are all the rest like this?
First Mas. No, my good lord;
You see this drab swells with a wanton rein,
The next that enters has a different strain.
Duke. Variety is good; let’s see the rest.
[Exeunt First and Second Masters and Constable.

Bots. Your grace sees I’m sound yet, and no bullets hit me.

Duke. Come off so, and ’tis well.

Lod.
Ast., &c. | Here’s the second mess.

Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable; then Penelope Whorehound, dressed like a citizen’s wife; after her two Beadles, one with a blue gown, another with chalk[445] and a mallet.

Pen. I ha’ worn many a costly gown, but I was never thus guarded[446] with blue coats and beadles and constables and——

Car. Alas, fair mistress, spoil not thus your eyes!

Pen. O sweet sir, I fear the spoiling of other places about me that are dearer than my eyes! If you be gentlemen, if you be men, or ever came of a woman, pity my case! stand to me, stick to me, good sir, you are an old man!

Or. Hang not on me, I prithee; old trees bear no such fruit.

Pen. Will you bail me, gentlemen?

Lod. Bail thee? art in for debt?

Pen. No; God[447] is my judge, sir, I am in for no debts; I paid my tailor for this gown the last five shillings a-week that was behind yesterday.

Duke. What is your name, I pray?

Pen. Penelope Whorehound, I come of the Whorehounds.—How does lieutenant Bots?

Lod.
Ast., &c. } Aha, Bots!

Bots. A very honest woman, as I’m a soldier,—a pox Bots ye!

Pen. I was never in this pickle before; and yet, if I go amongst citizens’ wives, they jeer at me; if I go among the loose-bodied gowns,[448] they cry a pox on me, because I go civilly attired, and swear their trade was a good trade till such as I am took it out of their hands. Good lieutenant Bots, speak to these captains to bail me.

First Mas. Begging for bail still? you are a trim gossip.
Go give her the blue gown; set her to her chare.[449]
Work, huswife, for your bread; away!

Pen. Out, you dog!—a pox on you all!—women are born to curse thee—but I shall live to see twenty such flat-caps[450] shaking dice for a pennyworth of pippins—out, you blue-eyed rogue!

[Exit with Beadles.

Lod.
Ast., &c. } Ha, ha, ha!

Duke. Even now she wept and pray’d; now does she curse?

First Mas. Seeing me; if still sh’ad stay’d, this had been worse.

Hip. Was she ever here before?

First Mas. Five times at least; And thus if men come to her have her eyes Wrung and wept out her bail.

Lod.
Ast., &c. } Bots, you know her!

Bots. Is there any gentleman here that knows not a whore, and is he a hair the worse for that?

Duke. Is she a city-dame, she’s so attir’d?
First Mas. No, my good lord, that’s only but the veil
To her loose body; I have seen her here
In gayer masking suits: as several sauces
Give one dish several tastes, so change of habits
In whores is a bewitching art; to-day
She’s all in colours to besot gallants, then
In modest black to catch the citizen;
And this from their examination’s drawn.
Now shall you see a monster both in shape
And nature quite from these, that sheds no tear,
Nor yet is nice, ’tis a plain ramping bear;
Many such whales are cast upon this shore.

Duke,
Lod., &c. } Let’s see her.

First Mas. Then behold a swaggering whore.

[Exeunt First and Second Masters and Constable.

Or. Keep your ground, Bots.

Bots. I do but traverse to spy advantage how to arm myself.

Re-enter First and Second Masters and Constable, after them a Beadle beating a basin,[451] then Catherina Bountinall with Mistress Horseleech, after them another Beadle with a blue head guarded[452] with yellow.

Cath. Sirrah, when I cry hold your hands, hold, you rogue-catcher, hold.—Bawd, are the French chilblains in your heels, that you can come no faster? are not you, bawd, a whore’s ancient,[453] and must not I follow my colours?

Mis. H. O mistress Catherine, you do me wrong to accuse me here as you do, before the right worshipful! I am known for a motherly honest woman, and no bawd.

Cath. Marry, foh, honest? burnt at fourteen, seven times whipt, six times carted, nine times ducked, searched by some hundred and fifty constables, and yet you are honest! honest mistress Horseleech! is this world a world to keep bawds and whores honest? how many times hast thou given gentlemen a quart of wine in a gallon pot? how many twelve-penny fees, nay, two-shillings fees, nay, when any ambassadors ha’ been here, how many half-crown fees hast thou taken? how many carriers hast thou bribed for country wenches? how often have I rinced your lungs in aqua vitæ?[454] and yet you are honest!

Duke. And what were you the whilst?

Cath. Marry, hang you, master slave, who made you an examiner?

Lod. Well said! belike this devil spares no man.

Cath. What art thou, prithee?

Bots. Nay, what art thou, prithee?

Cath. A whore: art thou a thief?

Bots. A thief? no, I defy[455] the calling; I am a soldier, have borne arms in the field, been in many a hot skirmish, yet come off sound.

Cath. Sound, with a pox to ye, ye abominable rogue! you a soldier! you in skirmishes! where? amongst pottle-pots in a bawdy-house?—Look, look here, you madam Wormeaten, do not you know him?

Mis. H. Lieutenant Bots, where have ye been this many a day?

Bots. Old bawd, do not discredit me, seem not to know me.

Mis. H. Not to know ye, master Bots? as long as I have breath I cannot forget thy sweet face.

Duke. Why, do you know him? he says he is a soldier.

Cath. He a soldier? a pander, a dog that will lick up sixpence. Do ye hear, you master swine’s-snout, how long is’t since you held the door for me, and cried, To’t again, nobody comes! ye rogue you?

Lod.
Ast., &c. } Ha, ha, ha! you’re smelt out again, Bots.

Bots. Pox ruin her nose for’t! and[456] I be not revenged for this—um, ye bitch!

Lod. D'ye hear ye, madam? why does your ladyship swagger thus? you’re very brave,[457] methinks.

Cath. Not at your cost, master cod’s-head. Is any man here blear-eyed to see me brave?

Ast. Yes, I am; because good clothes upon a whore’s back is like fair painting upon a rotten wall.

Cath. Marry muff,[458] master whoremaster! you come upon me with sentences.

Ber. By this light has small sense for’t.

Lod. O fie, fie, do not vex her! and yet methinks a creature of more scurvy conditions should not know what a good petticoat were.

Cath. Marry, come out, you’re so busy about my petticoat, you’ll creep up to my placket,[459] and[460] ye could but attain the honour: but and[460] the outsides offend your rogueships, look o’ the lining, ’tis silk.

Duke. Is’t silk ’tis lined with, then?

Cath. Silk? ay, silk, master slave; you would be glad to wipe your nose with the skirt on’t. This ’tis to come among a company of cod’s-heads, that know not how to use a gentlewoman!

Duke. Tell her the duke is here.

First Mas. Be modest, Kate, the duke is here.

Cath. If the devil were here, I care not.—Set forward, ye rogues, and give attendance according to your places! let bawds and whores be sad, for I’ll sing and[460] the devil were a-dying.

[Exit with Mistress Horseleech and Beadles.
Duke. Why before her does the basin ring?
First Mas. It is an emblem of their revelling.
The whips we use let[461] forth their wanton blood,
Making them calm; and, more to calm their pride,
Instead of coaches they in carts do ride.
Will your grace see more of this bad ware?
Duke. No, shut up shop, we’ll now break up the fair:
Yet ere we part—you, sir, that take upon ye
The name of soldier, that true name of worth,
Which action, not vain boasting, best sets forth,
To let you know how far a soldier’s name
Stands from your title, and to let you see
Soldiers must not be wrong’d where princes be,
This be your sentence.

Lod.
Ast., &c. } Defend yourself, Bots!

Duke. First, all the private sufferance that the house
Inflicts upon offenders, you, as the basest,
Shall undergo it double; after which
You shall be whipt, sir, round about the city,
Then banish’d from the land.
Bots. Beseech your grace!
Duke. Away with him, see’t done.
[Exit Bots with Constable.
Panders and whores
Are city-plagues, which being kept alive,
Nothing that looks like goodness e’er can thrive.—
Now, good Orlando, what say you to your bad son-in-law?

Or. Marry, this, my lord; he is my son-in-law, and in law will I be his father, for if law can pepper him, he shall be so parboiled, that he shall stink no more i’ th’ nose of the commonwealth.

Bel. Be yet more kind and merciful, good father!

Or. Dost thou beg for him, thou precious man’s meat, thou? has he not beaten thee, kicked thee, trod on thee? and dost thou fawn on him like his spaniel? has he not pawned thee to thy petticoat, sold thee to thy smock, made ye leap at a crust? yet would’st have me save him?

Bel. O yes, good sir! women shall learn of me
To love their husbands in greatest misery;
Then shew him pity, or you wreck myself.

Or. Have ye eaten pigeons, that you’re so kind-hearted to your mate? Nay, you’re a couple of wild bears, I’ll have ye both baited at one stake: but as for this knave,—the gallows is thy due, and the gallows thou shalt have; I’ll have justice of the duke, the law shall have thy life.—What, dost thou hold him? let go his hand: if thou dost not forsake him, a father’s everlasting blessing fall upon both your heads! Away, go, kiss out of my sight; play thou the whore no more, nor thou the thief again, my house shall be thine, my meat shall be thine, and so shall my wine, but my money shall be mine, and yet when I die, so thou dost not fly high, take all;

Yet, good Matheo, mend.[462]
Thus for joy weeps Orlando, and doth end.
Duke. Then hear, Matheo: all[463] your woes are stay’d
By your good father-in-law; all your ills
Are clear purg’d from you by his working pills.—
Come, signor Candido, these green young wits,
We see by circumstance, this plot have[464] laid,
Still to provoke thy patience, which they find
A wall of brass; no armour’s like the mind:
Thou’st taught the city patience; now our court
Shall be thy sphere, where from thy good report,
Rumours this truth unto the world shall sing,
A patient man’s a pattern for a king.
[Exeunt omnes.

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