THE WOMAN HATER.  
As it hath been lately Acted by the Children of Paul's.  
LONDON Printed, and are to be sold by john hodget's in Paul's Churchyard. 1607.   

The Prologue.  
GEntlemen, Inductions are out of date, and a Prologue in Verse is as stale, as a black Velvet Cloak, and a bay Garland: Therefore you shall have it plain Prose thus: If there be any amongst you, that come to hear lascivious Scenes, let them depart: for I do pronounce this, to the utter discomfort of all two penny Gallery men, you shall have no bawdry in it: or if there be any lurking amongst you in corners, with Table books, who have some hope to find fit matter to feed his— malice on, let them clasp them up, and slink away, or stay and be converted. For he that made this Play, means to please Auditors so, as he may be an Auditor himself hereafter, and not purchase them with the dear loss of his ears: I dare not call it Comedy, or Tragedy; 'tis perfectly neither: A Play it is, which was meant to make you laugh, how it will please you, is not written in my part: For though you should like it today, perhaps yourselves know not how you should digest it tomorrow: Some things in it you may meet with, which are out of the common Road: a Duke there is, and the Scene lies in Italy, as those two things lightly we never miss. But you shall not find in it the ordinary and overworn trade of jesting at Lords and Courtiers, and Citizens, without taxation of any particular or new vice by them found out, but at the persons of them: such, he that made this, thinks vile; and for his own part vows, That he did never think, but that a Lord borne might be a wise man, and a Courtier an honest man.   
The Woman Hater.  

ACTVS I. SCENA I.  
Enter Duke of Millaine, Arrigo, Lucio, and two Courtiers. 
'tIs now the sweetest time for sleep, the night is scarce spent; Arrigo, what's o'clock?  Arr. 
Past four.  Duk. 
Is it so much, and yet the morn not up?  
See yonder where the shamefaced maiden comes  
Into our sight, how gently doth she slide,  
Hiding her chaste cheeks, like a modest Bride,  
With a red vail of blushes; as is she,  
Even such all modest virtuous women be.  
Why thinks your Lordship I am up so soon?  Lucio. 
About some weighty State plot.  Duk. 
And what thinks your knighthood of it?  Arr. 
I do think, to cure some strange corruptions in the common wealth.  Duk. 
You're well conceited of yourselves, to think  
I choose you out to bear me company  
In such affairs and business of state:  
But am not I a pattern for all Princes,  
That break my soft sleep for my subjects good?  
Am I not careful? very provident?  Luc. 
Your grace is careful.  Arri. 
Very provident.  Duk. 
Nay knew you how my serious working plots,  
Concern the whole estates of all my subjects,  
I and their lives; then Lucio thou wouldst swear,  
I were a loving Prince.  Lucio. 
I think your grace intends to walk the public streets disguised, to see the streets disorders.  Duke. 
It is not so.  Arrig. 
You secretly will cross some other states, that do conspire against you.  Duke. 
Weightier far:  
You are my friends, and you shall have the cause;  
I break my sleeps thus soon to see a wench.  Lucio. 
You're wondrous careful for your subjects' good.  Arrig. 
You are a very loving Prince in deed.  Duke. 
This care I take for them, when their dull eyes,  
Are closed with heavy slumbers.  Arr. 
Then you rise to see your wenches?  Lucio. 
What Milan beauty hath the power, to charm her sovereign's eyes, and break his sleeps?  Duke. 
Sister to Count Vaelore: She's a maid  
Would make a Prince, forget his throne and state,  
And lowly kneel to her: the general fate  
Of all mortality, is hers to give;  
As she disposeth, so we die and live.  Luc. 
My Lord, the day grows clear, the Court will rise.  Duke. 
We stay too long, is the the Umbrano's head as we commanded, sent to the sad Gondarino, our general?  Arr. 
'tis sent.  Duk. 
But stay, where shines that light?  Arrig. 
'tis in the chamber of Lazarello.  Duke. 
Lazarello? what is he?  Arrig. 
A Courtier my Lord, and one that I wonder your grace knows not: for he hath followed your Court, and your last predecessors, from place to place, any time this seven year, as faithfully as your Spits and your Dripping-pans have done, and almost as greasily.  Duke 
O we know him as we have heard: he keeps a calendar of all the famous dishes of meat, that have been in the Court, ever since our great Grandfathers time; and when he can thrust in at no Table, he makes his meat of that.  Lucio 
The very same my Lord.  Duke. 
A Courtier call'st thou him?  
Believe me Lucio, there be many such  
About our Court, respected, as they think,  
Even by ourself; with thee I will be plain:  
We Princes do use, to prefer many for nothing, and to take particular and free knowledge, almost in the nature of acquaintance of many; whom we do use only for our pleasures, and do give largely to numbers; more out of policy, to be thought liberal, and by that means to make the people strive to deserve our love; then to reward any particular desert of theirs, to whom we give: and do suffer ourselves to here Flatterers, more for recreation  
Then for love of it, though we seldom hate it:  
And yet we know all these, and when we please,  
Can touch the wheel, and turn their names about.  Lu. 
I wonder they that know their states so well, should fancy such base slaves.  Duke. 
Thou wonder'st Lucio,  
Dost not thou think, if thou wert Duke of Milan,  
Thou shouldst be flattered?  Lucio 
I know my Lord, I would not.  Duke. 
Why so I thought till I was Duke, I thought I should have left me no more Flatterers, than there are now plain-dealers; and yet for all this my resolution, I am most palpably flattered: the poor man may loathe covetousness & flattery; but Fortune will alter the mind when the wind turns: there may be well a little conflict, but it will drive the billows before it.  
Arrigo it grows late, for see fair Thetis hath undone the bars  
To Phoebus' team; and his unrivalled light,  
Hath chased the morning's modest blush away:  
Now must we to our love, bright Paphian Queen;  
Thou Cytherean goddess, that delights  
In stirring glances, and art still thyself,  
More toying than thy team of Sparrows be;  
Thou laughing Errecina O inspire  
Her heart with love, or lessen my desire.  Exeunt.  

SCENA II.  Enter Lazarello and his Boy. Laz. 
Go run, search, pry in every nook and Angle of the kitchens, larders, and pastries, know what meat's boiled, baked, roast, stewed, fried, or soused, at this dinner to be served directly, or indirectly, to every several table in the Court, be gone.  Boy. 
I run, but not so fast, as your mouth will do upon the stroke of eleven.  Exit Boy. Laz. 
What an excellent thing did God bestow upon man, when he did give him a good stomach? what unbounded graces there are poured upon them, that have the continual command of the very best of these blessings? 'tis an excellent thing to be a Prince, he is served with such admirable variety of fare; such innumerable choice of delicates, his tables are full fraught with most nourishing food, & his cupboards heavy laden with rich wines; his Court is still filled with most pleasing varieties: In the Summer, his palace is full of green geese; and in Winter, it swarmeth woodcocks, 
O thou Goddess of plenty  
Fill me this day with some rare delicates,  
And I will every year most constantly,  
As this day celebrate a sumptuous feast,  
If thou wilt send me victuals in thine honour;  
And to it shall be bidden for thy sake,  
Even all the valiant stomachs in the Court:  
All short-cloaked Knights, & all cross-gartered gentlemen;  
All pump and pantofle, foot-cloth riders;  
With all the swarming generation  
Of long stocks, short pained hose, & huge stuffed doublets:  
All these shall eat, and which is more than yet  
Hath ere been seen, they shall be satisfied.  
I wonder my Ambassador returns not!   Enter Boy Boy. 
Here I am Master.  Laza. 
And welcome:  
Never did that sweet Virgin in her smock,  
Fair cheeked Andromeda, when to the rock  
Her ivory limbs were chained, and straight before  
A huge Sea monster, tumbling to the shore,  
To have devoured her, with more longing sight  
Expect the coming of some hardy Knight,  
That might have quelled his pride, and set her free,  
Than I with longing sight have looked for thee.  Boy. 
Your Perseus is come Master, that will destroy him,  
The very comfort of whole presence shuts  
The monster hunger from your yelping guts  Laza. 
Brief boy, brief, discourse the service of each several Table compendiously.  Boy. 
Here's a Bill of all Sir.  Laza. 
Give it me. A Bill of all the several services this day appointed for every Table in the Court:  
ay, this is it on which my hopes rely;  
Within this paper all my joys are closed:  
Boy open it, and read it with reverence.  Boy. 
For the Captain of the Guards Table, three chines of Beef, and two jowls of Sturgeon.  Laza. 
A portly service, but gross, gross, proceed to the Duke's own Table, dear boy to the Duke's own Table.  Boy. 
For the Duke's own Table, the head of an Umbrana  Laza. 
Is't possible! can Heaven be so propitious to the Duke?  Boy. 
Yes, I'll assure you Sir, 'tis possible, Heaven is so propitious to him.  Laza. 
Why then he is the richest Prince alive:  
He were the wealthiest Monarch in all Europe,  
Had he no other Territories, Dominions, Provinces, Seats,  
Nor Palaces, but only that Umbrana's head.  Boy. 
'Tis very fresh and sweet sir, the fish was taken but this night, & the head as a rare novelty appointed by special commandment for the Duke's own Table, this dinner.  Laza. 
If poor unworthy I may come to eat Of this most sacred dish, I here do vow (If that blind housewife Fortune will bestow But means on me) to keep a sumptuous house, A board groaning under the heavy burden of the beasts that cheweth the cud, and the Foul that cutteth the air: I shall not like the table of a country justice, besprinkled over with all manner of cheap Salads, sliced Beef, Giblets, and Pettitoes, to fill up room, nor should there stand any great, cumbersome, uncut up pies at the neither end filled with moss and stones, partly to make a show with, and partly to keep the lower mess from eating, nor shall my meat come in sneaking like the City-service, one dish a quarter of an hour after one another gone, as if they had appointed to meet there, and had mistook the hour, nor should it like the new Court service come in, in haste, as if it fain would be gone again, all courses at once, like a hunting breakfast, but I would have my several courses, and my dishes well filled, my first course should be brought in after the ancient manner, by a score of old blear-eyed servingmen, in long blue coats, (marry they shall buy silk, facing, and buttons themselves) but that's by the way.  Boy. 
Master the time calls on, will you be walking.  Exit Boy. Laza. 
Follow boy, follow, my guts were half an hour since in the privy kitchen.  Exeunt.  

SCENA TERTII.  Enter Count and his sister Oriana. Oria. 
Faith brother I must needs go yonder.  Count. 
And i'faith sister what will you do yonder.  Oria. 
I know the Lady Honoria will be glad to see me.  Count. 
Glad to see you, faith the Lady Honoria cares for you as she doth for all other young Ladies, she's glad to see you, and will show you the privy Garden, and tell you how many gowns the Duchess had: Marry if you have ever an old uncle, that would be a Lord, or ever a kinsman that hath done a murder, or committed a robbery, and will give good store of money to procure his pardon, than the Lady Honoria will be glad to see you.  Oria. 
ay, but they say one shall see fine fights at the Court.  Count. 
I'll tell you what you shall see, you shall see many faces of man's making, for you shall find very few as God left them: and you shall see many legs too; amongst the rest you shall behold one pair, the feet of which, were in times past sockless, but are now through the change of time (that altars all things) very strangely become the legs of a Knight and a Courtier: another pair you shall see, that were heir apparent legs to a Glover, these legs hope shortly to be honourable; when they pass by they will bow, and the mouth to these legs, will seem to offer you some Courtship; it will swear, but it will lie, hear it not.  Oria. 
Why, and are not these fine sights?  Count. 
Sister, in seriousness you yet are young And fair, a fair young maid and apt.  Oria. 
Apt?  Count. 
Exceeding apt, apt to be drawn to.  Oria. 
To what?  Count. 
To that you should not be, 'tis no dispraise,  
She is not bad that hath desire to ill,  
But she that hath no power to rule that will:  
For there you shallbe wooed in other kinds  
Then yet your years have known, the chiefest men  
Will seem to throw themselves  
As vassals at your service, kiss your hand,  
Prepare you banquets, masks, shows, all enticements  
That wit and lust together can devise,  
To draw a Lady from the state of grace  
To an old Lady widow's Gallery;  
And they will praise your virtues, beware that,  
The only way to turn a woman whore,  
Is to commend her chastity: you'll go?  Oria. 
I would go, if it were but only to show you, that I could be there, and be moved with none of these tricks.  Cont. 
Your servants are ready?  Oria 
An hour since  Cont. 
Well, if you come off clear from this hot service,  
Your praise shall be the greater. Farewell Sister.  Oria. 
Farewell Brother.  Cont. 
Once more, if you stay in the presence till candlelight, keep on the foreside o'th' Curtain; & do you hear, take heed of the old Bawd, in the cloth of Tissue-sleeves, and the knit Mittins. Farewell Sister. Exit Oria. Now am I idle, I would I had been a Scholar, that I might ha' studied now: the punishment of meaner men is, they have too much to do; our only misery is, that without company we know not what to do; I must take some of the common courses of our Nobility; which is thus: if I can find no company that likes me, pluck off my Hatband, throw an old Cloak over my face, and as if I would not be known, walk hastily through the streets, till I be discovered; then there goes Count such a one, says one; there goes Count such a one, says another: Look how fast he goes, says a third; there's some great matters in hand questionless, says a fourth; when all my business is to have them say so: this hath been used; or if I can find any company, I'll after dinner to the Stage, to see a Play; where, when I first enter, you shall have a murmur in the house, every one that does not know, cries, what Noble man is that; all the Gallants on the Stage rise, veil to me, kiss their hand, offer me their places: then I pick out some one, whom I please to grace among the rest, take his seat, use it, throw my cloak over my face, and laugh at him: the poor gentleman imagines himself most highly graced, thinks all the Auditors esteem him one of my bosom friends, and in right special regard with me. But here comes a Gentleman, that I hope will make me better sport, than either street and stage fooleries. Enter Lazarello and Boy .This man loves to eat good meat, always provided he do not pay for it himself: he goes by the name of the hungary Courtier; marry, because I think that name will not sufficiently distinguish him, for no doubt he hath more fellows there, his name is Lazarello, he is none of these same ordinary eaters, that will devour three breakfasts, & as many dinners, without any prejudice to their beavers, drinkings or suppers; but he hath a more courtly kind of hunger, and doth hunt more after novelty, than plenty, I'll overhear him.  Laza. 
O thou most itching kindly appetite,  
Which every creature in his stomach feels;  
O leave, leave yet at last thus to torment me.  
Three several Salads have I sacrificed,  
Bedewed with precious oil and vinegar  
Already to appease thy greedy wrath. Boy.  Boy. 
Sir.  Laza. 
Will the Count speak with me.  Boy. 
One of his Gentlemen is gone to inform him of your coming Sir.  Laza. 
There is no way left for me to compass this Fish head, but by being presently made known to the Duke.  Boy. 
That will be hard Sir.  Laza. 
When I have tasted of this sacred dish,  
Then shall my bones rest in my father's tomb  
In peace, then shall I die most willingly,  
And as a dish be served to satisfy  
Death's hunger, and I will be buried thus:  
My Beer shallbe a charger borne by four,  
The coffin where I lie, a powdering tub,  
Bestrewed with lettuce, and cool salad herbs,  
My winding sheet of Tanseyes, the black guard  
shallbe my solemn mourners, and in stead  
Of ceremonies, wholesome burial prayers:  
A printed dirge in rhyme, shall bury me  
In stead of tears, let them pour Capon sauce  
Upon my hearse, and salt in stead of dust,  
Manchets for stones, for other glorious shields  
Give me a Voider, and above my hearse  
For a Trutch sword, my naked knife stuck up.  The Count discovers himself. Boy. 
Master, the Count is here.  Laza. 
Where? my Lord I do beseech you.  Count. 
You're very welcome sir, I pray you stand up, you shall dine with me.  Laza. 
I do beseech your Lordship by the love I still have borne to your honourable house.  Count. 
Sir, what need all this? you shall dine with me, I pray rise.  Laza. 
Perhaps your Lordship takes me for one of these same fellows, that do as it were respect victuals.  Count. 
O sir, by no means.  Laza. 
Your Lordship has often promised, that whensoever I should affect greatness, your own hand should help to raise me.  Count. 
And so much still assure yourself of.  Laza. 
And though I must confess, I have ever shunned popularity by the example of others, yet I do now feel myself a little ambitious, your Lordship is great, and though young, yet a privy counsellor.  Count. 
I pray you sir leap into the matter, what would you have me do for you?  Laza. 
I would entreat your Lordship to make me known to the Duke.  Count. 
When sir?  Laza. 
Suddenly my Lord, I would have you present me unto him this morning.  Count. 
It shall be done, but for what virtues, would you have him take notice of you?  Laza. 
Your Lordship shall know that presently. 'tis pity of this fellow, he is of good wit, & sufficient understanding, when he is not troubled with this greedy worm.  Lazar. 
Faith, you may entreat him to take notice of me for any thing; for being an excellent Farrier, for playing well at Span-counter, or sticking knives in walls, for being impudent, or for nothing; why may not I be a Favourite on the sudden, I see nothing against it.  Count. 
Not so sir, I know you have not the face to be a favourite on the sudden.  Laz. 
Why then you shall present me as a gentleman well qualified, or one extraordinary seen in divers strange mysteries.  Count. 
In what Sir? as how?  Laz. 
Marry as thus—  Enter Intelligencer. Count. 
Yonder's my old Spirit, that hath haunted me daily, ever since I was a privy Counsellor, I must be rid of him, I pray you stay there, I am a little busy, I will speak with you presently.  Lazar. 
You shall bring me in, and after a little other talk, taking me by the hand, you shall utter these words to the Duke: May it please your grace, to take note of a gentleman, well read, deeply learned, and thoroughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all Salads and potherbs whatsoever.  Count. 
'Twill be rare, if you will walk before Sir, I will overtake you instantly.  Lazar. 
Your Lordship's ever.  Count. 
This fellow is a kind of Informer, one that lives in Alehouses, and Taverns, and because he perceives some worthy men in this land, with much labour & great expense, to have discovered things dangerously hanging over the State; he thinks to discover as much out of the talk of drunkards in Tap-houses: he brings me informations, picked out of broken words, in men's common talk, which with his malicious misapplication, he hopes will seem dangerous, he doth besides bring me the names of all the young Gentlemen in the City, that use Ordinaries, or Taverns, talking (to my thinking) only as the freedom of their youth teach them, without any further ends; for dangerous and seditious spirits, he is besides an arrant whoremaster, as any is in Milan, of a lay man. I will not meddle with the Clergy, he is parcel Lawyer, & in my conscience much of their religion, I must put upon him some piece of service; come hither Sir, what have you to do with me?  Int. 
Little my Lord, I only come to know how your Lordship would employ me.  Cont. 
Observed you that gentleman, that parted from me but now.  Int. 
I saw him now my Lord.  Cont. 
I was sending for your, I have talked with this man, and I do find him dangerous.  Int. 
Is your Lordship in earnest?  Cont. 
Hark you sir, there may perhaps be some within earshot.  He whispers with him. Enter Lazarrello and his Boy. Laz. 
Sirrah will you venture your life, the Duke hath sent the fish head to my lord?  Boy. 
Sir if he have not, kill me, do what you will with me.  Laz. 
How uncertain is the state of all mortal things? I have these Crosses from my Cradle, from my very Cradle, in so much that I do begin to grow desperate: Fortune I do despise thee, do thy worst; yet when I do better gather myself together, I do find it is rather the part of a wise man, to prevent the storms of Fortune by stirring, than to suffer them by standing still, to power themselves upon his naked body. I will about it.  Cont. 
Who's within there? Enter a serving-man Let this Gentleman out at the back door, forget not my instructions, if you find any thing dangerous; trouble not yourself, to find out me, but carry your informations to the Lord Lucio, he is a man grave and well experienced in these businesses.  Int. 
Your Lordship's Servant.  Exit Intelligencer and Servingman. Laz. 
Will it please your worship walk?  Cont, 
Sir I was coming, I will overtake you.  Lazar. 
I will attend you over against the Lord Gonderino's house.  Count. 
You shall not attend there long.  Laz. 
Thither must I to see my loves face, the chaste virgin head  
Of a dear Fish, yet pure and underflowered,  
Not known of man, no bred rough country hand,  
Hath once touched thee, no Panders withered paw,  
Nor an un-napkined lawyer's greasy fist,  
Hath once slubbered thee: no lady's supple hand,  
Washed o'er with urine, hath yet seized on thee  
With her two nimble talents: no Court hand,  
Whom his own natural filth, or change of air,  
Hath bedecked with scabs, hath marred thy whiter grace:  
O let it be thought lawful then for me,  
To crop the flower of thy virginity.  Exit Lazar. Count. 
This day I am for fools, I am all theirs,  
Though like to our young wanton cockered heirs,  
Who do affect those men above the rest,  
In whose base company they still are best:  
I do not with much labour strive to be  
The wisest ever in the company:  
But for a fool, our wisdom oft amends,  
As enemies do teach us more than friends.  Exit. Count. 
Finis Actus primi.    

ACTVS II. SCENA I.  
Enter Gondarino and his servants. SEru. 
My Lord:  Gond. 
Ha.  Seru. 
Here's one hath brought you a present.  Gond. 
From whom, from a woman? if it be from a woman, bid him carry it back, and tell her she's a whore: what is it?  Seru. 
A Fish head my Lord.  Gond. 
What Fish head?  Seru. 
I did not ask that my lord.  Gond. 
Whence comes it?  Ser. 
From the Court.  Gond. 
O 'tis a Codshead.  Seru. 
No my Lord, 'tis some strange head, it comes from the Duke.  Gond. 
Let it be carried to my Mercer, I do owe him money for silks, stop his mouth with that. Exit Seru. Was there ever any man that hated his wife after death but I? and for her sake all women, women that were created only for the preservation of little dogs.  Enter Seru. Ser. 
My Lord, the Counts sister being overtaken in the streets, with a great hailstorm, is light at your gate, and desires Rome till the storm be overpast.  Gond. 
Is she a woman?  Seru. 
I my Lord I think so.  Gond. 
I have none for her then: bid her get her gone, tell her she is not welcome.  Seru. 
My Lord, she is now coming up.  Gond. 
She shall not come up, tell her any thing, tell her I have but one great room in my house, and I am now in it at the close stool.  Seru. 
she's here my Lord.  Gond. 
O impudence of women, I can keep dogs out of my house, or I can defend my house against thieves, but I cannot keep out women. Enter Oriana, a waiting woman, and a Page. Now Madam, what hath your Ladyship to say to me?  Oria. 
My Lord, I was bold to crave the help of your house against the storm.  Gond. 
Your ladyships boldness in coming, will be impudence in staying, for you are most unwelcome.  Oriana. 
Oh my Lord!  Gond. 
Do you laugh, by the hate I bear to you, 'tis true.  Orian. 
You're merry my Lord.  Gond. 
Let me laugh to death if I be, or can be whilst thou art here, or livest, or any of thy sex.  Oriana. 
I commend your Lordship.  Gond. 
Do you commend me? why do you commend me? I give you no such cause: thou art a filthy impudent whore; a woman, a very woman.  Oria. 
Ha, ha, ha.  Gond. 
Begot when thy father was drunk.  Orian. 
Your Lordship hath a good wit.  Gond. 
How? what have I good wit?  Orian. 
Come my Lord, I have heard before of your Lordship's merry vain in jesting against our Sex, which I being desirous to hear, made me rather choose your Lordship's house, than any other, but I know I am welcome.  Gond. 
Let me not live if you be: methinks it doth not become you, to come to my house, being a stranger to you. I have no woman in my house, to entertain you, nor to show you your chamber; why should you come to me? I have no Galleries, nor banqueting houses, nor bawdy pictures to show your Ladyship.  Orian. 
Believe me, this your Lordship's plainness makes me think myself more welcome, then if you had sworn by all the pretty Court oaths that are, I had been welcomer than your soul to your body.  Gond. 
Now she's in talking, treason will get her out, I durst sooner undertake to talk an Intelligencer out of the room, and speak more than he durst hear, than talk a woman out of my company.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
My Lord, the Duke being in the streets, and the storm continuing, is entered your gate, and now coming up.  Gond. 
The Duke! now I know your arrant madam; you have plots and private meetings in hand: why do you choose my house, are you ashamed to go to't in the old coupling place, though it be less suspicious here; for no Christian will suspect a woman to be in my house, yet you may do it cleanlier there, for there is a care had of those businesses; and wheresoever you remove, your great maintainer and you shall have your lodgings directly opposite, it is but putting on your nightgown, and your slippers; madame, you understand me?  Orian. 
Before I would not understand him, but now he speaks riddles to me indeed.  Enter the Duke, Arrigo, and Lucio. Duke. 
'twas a strange hailstorm.  Lucio. 
'twas exceeding strange.  Gond. 
Good morrow to your grace.  Duke. 
Good morrow Gondarino.  Gond. 
justice great Prince.  Duke. 
Why should you beg for justice, I never did you wrong; what's the offendor?  Gond. 
A woman.  Luke. 
O I know your ancient quarrel against that sex; but what heinous crime hath she committed?  Gond. 
She hath gone abroad.  Duke. 
What? it cannot be.  Gond. 
She hath done it.  Duke. 
How? I never heard of any woman that did so before.  Gond. 
If she have not laid by that modesty  
That should attend a virgin, and quite void  
Of shame, hath left the house where she was borne,  
As they should never do; let me endure  
The pains that she should suffer.  Duke. 
Hath she so? which is the woman?  Gond. 
This, this.  Duke. 
How Arrigo? Lucio?  Gond. 
I than it is a plot, no Prince alive  
Shall force me make my house, a brothel house;  
Not for the sins, but for the woman's sake,  
I will not have her in my doors so long:  
Will they make my house as bawdy as their own are?  Duke. 
Is it not Oriana?  Lucio. 
It is.  Duke. 
Sister to Count Valour?  Arri. 
The very same.  Duke. 
She that I love?  Lucio. 
She that you love.  Duke. 
I do suspect.  Lucio. 
So do I.  Duke. 
This fellow to be but a counterfeit,  
One that doth seem to loathe all woman kind,  
To hate himself, because he hath some part  
Of woman in him; seems not to endure  
To see, or to be seen of any woman,  
Only, because he knows it is their nature  
To wish to taste that which is most forbidden:  
And with this show, he may the better compass  
(And with far less suspicion) his base ends.  Lucio. 
Upon my life 'tis so.  Duke. 
And I do know,  
Before his slain wife gave him that offence,  
He was the greatest servant to that sex,  
That ever was; what doth this Lady here  
with him alone? why should he rail at her to me?  Lucio. 
Because your grace might not suspect.  Duke. 
'twas so: I do love her strangely;  
I would fain know the truth: counsel me. They 3. whisper  Enter Count, Lazarello, and his boy. Count. 
It falls out better than we could expect Sir, that we should find the Duke and my Lord Gondarino together, both which you desire to be acquainted with.  Lazar. 
'twas very happy: Boy, go down into the kitchen, & see if you can spy that same; I am now in some hope: I have methinks a kind of fever upon me, Exit Boy .A certain gloominess within me, doubting as it were, betwixt two passions; there is no young maid, upon her wedding night, when her husband sets first foot in the bed, blushes, and looks pale again, oftener than I do now. There is no Poet acquainted with more shakings & quakings, towards the latter end of this new play, when he's in that case, that he stands peeping betwixt the curtains, so fearfully, that a bottle of Ale cannot be opened, but he thinks somebody hisses, than I am at this instant.  Count. 
Are they in consultation, if they be, either my young Duke hath gotten some bastard, and is persuading my knight yonder, to father the child, and marry the wench, or else some Cockpit is to be built.  Laza. 
My Lord? what noble man's that?  Count. 
His name is Lucio, 'tis he that was made a Lord at the request of some of his friends for his wives sake, he affects to be a great Statesman, and thinks it consists in night caps, and jewels, and toothpicks?  Laza. 
And what's that other?  Count. 
A Knight Sir, that pleaseth the Duke to favour, & to raise to some extraordinary fortunes, he can make as good men as himself, every day in the week and doth—  Laza. 
For what was he raised.  Count. 
Truly Sir, I am not able to say directly, for what; but for wearing of red breeches as I take it, he's a brave man, he will spend three Knighthoods at a Supper without trumpets.  Laza 
My Lord i'll talk with him, for I have a friend, that would gladly receive the humour.  Count. 
If he have the itch of Knighthood upon him, let him repair to that Physician, he'll cure him: but I will give you a note; is your friend fat or lean?  Laza. 
Something fat.  Count. 
'twill be the worse for him.  Laza. 
I hope that's not material.  Cont. 
Very much, for there is an impost set upon Knighthoods, and your friend shall pay a Noble in the pound.  Duke. 
I do not like examinations,  
We shall find out the truth more easily,  
Some other way less noted, and that course,  
Should not be used, till we be sure to prove  
Some thing directly, for when they perceive  
Themselves suspected, they will then provide  
More warily to answer.  Luc. 
Doth she know your Grace doth love her.  Duke 
She hath never heard it.  Luc. 
Then thus my Lord; They whisper again.  Laza. 
What's he that walks alone so sadly with his hands behind him?  Count. 
The Lord of the house, he that you desire to be acquainted with, he doth hate women for the same cause that I love them.  Laza. 
What's that?  Cont. 
For that which Apes want: you perceive me Sir?  Laza. 
And is he sad, can he be sad, that hath so rich a gem under his roof, as that which I do follow? What young Ladies that?  Count. 
Which: Have I mine eye sight perfect, 'tis my sister, did I say the Duke had a bastard? what should she make here with him, and his Council; she hath no papers in her hand, to petition to them, she hath never a husband in prison, whose release she might sue for: That's a fine trick for a wench; to get her husband clapped up, that she may more freely, & with less suspicion, visit the private studies of men in authority. Now I do discover their consultation, yond fellow is a Pandar without all salvation; But let me not condemn her too rashly, without weighing the matter; she's a young Lady, She went forth early this morning with a waiting woman, and a Page, or so: This is no garden house, in my conscience she went forth with no dishonest intent; for she did not pretend going to any sermon in the further end of the City: Neither went she to see any odd old Gentlewoman, that mourns for the death of her husband, or the loss of her friend, and must have young Ladies come to comfort her: Those are the damnable Bawds, 'twas no set meeting certainly: for there was no wafer-woman with her, these three days, on my knowledge: I'll talk with her: Good morrow my Lord.  Gond. 
You're welcome Sir: her's her brother come now to do a kind office for his sister, is it not strange?  Count. 
I am glad to meet you here Sister.  Oria. 
I thank you good Brother: and if you doubt of of the cause of my coming, I can Satisfy you.  Count. 
No faith, I dare trust thee, I do suspect thou art honest, for it is so rare a thing to be honest amongst you, that some one man in an age, may perhaps suspect some two women to be honest, but never believe it verily.  Luci 
Let your return be sudden.  Arri. 
Unsuspected by them.  Duk. 
It shall, so shall I best perceive their Love, if there be any, Farewell.  Count. 
Let me entreat your grace to stay a little,  
To know a Gentleman, to whom yourself  
Is much beholding, he hath made the sport  
For your whole Court these 8. years, on my knowledge.  Duk. 
His name?  Count. 
Lazarello.  Duk. 
I heard of him this morning, which is he?  Count. 
Lazarello, pluck up thy Spirits, thy fortunes are now raising, the Duke calls for thee, and thou shalt be acquainted with him.  Laza. 
He's going away, and I must of necessity stay here, upon business.  Count. 
'tis all one, thou shalt know him first.  Laza. 
Stay a little, if he should offer to take me away with him, and by that means I should lose that I seek for; but if he should, I will not go with him.  Count. 
Lazarello the Duke stays, wilt thou lose this opportunity?  Laza. 
How must I speak to him?  Count. 
'twas well thought of: you must not talk to him, as you do to an ordinary man, honest plain sense; but you must wind about him: for example, if he should ask you what o'clock it is, you must not say; if it please your grace, 'tis nine, but thus; thrice three o'clock, so please my Sovereign, or thus; look how many muses there doth dwell,  
Upon the sweet banks of the learned Well;  
And just so many strokes the clock hath struck,  
And so forth, and you must now & then enter into a description.  Laza. 
I hope I shall do it.  Count. 
Come: May it please your grace to take note of a gentleman, well seen, deeply read, & thoroughly grounded in the hidden knowledge of all salads and potherbs whatsoever.  Duk. 
I shall desire to know him more inwardly.  Laza. 
I kiss the Oxhide of your grace's foot.  Count. 
Very well: will your grace question him a little?  Duk. 
How old are you?  Laza. 
Full eight and twenty several Almanacs  
Hath been compiled, all for several years,  
Since first I drew this breath, four prenticeships  
Have I most truly served in this world:  
And eight and twenty times hath Phoebus car  
Run out his yearly course since.  Duk. 
I understand you Sir.  Luci. 
How like an ignorant Poet he talks.  Duk. 
You are eight and twenty year old? what time of the day do you hold it to be?  Laza. 
About the time that mortals whet their knives  
On thresholds, on their shoe soles, and on stairs:  
Now bread is grating, and the testy cook  
Hath much to do now, now the Tables all.  Duk. 
'Tis almost dinner time?  Laza. 
Your grace doth apprehend me very rightly.  Count. 
Your grace shall find him in your further conference Grave, wise, courtly, & scholar like, understandingly read In the necessities of the life of man. He knows that man is mortal by his birth; He knows that men must die, and therefore live; He knows that man must live, and therefore eat, And if it shall please your grace, to accompany yourself with him, I doubt not, but that he will at the least, make good my commendations.  Duk. 
Attend us Lazarello, we do want  
Men of such Action, as we have received you  
Reported from your honourable friend.  Laza. 
Good my Lord stand betwixt me and my overthrow, you know I am tied here, and may not depart, my gracious Lord, so weighty are the business of mine own, which at this time do call upon me, that I will rather choose to die, than to neglect them.  Count. 
Nay you shall well perceive, besides the virtues that I have already informed you off, he hath a stomach, which will stoop to no Prince alive.  Duk. 
Sir at your best leisure, I shall thirst to see you.  Laza. 
And I shall hunger for it.  Duk. 
Till then farewell all.  Gen. Count. 
Long life attend your Grace.  Duk. 
I do not taste this sport, Arrigo, Lucio.  Ar. Luci. 
We do attend.  Exeunt Duke, Arrigo, Lucio. Gond. 
His grace is gone, and hath left his Helen with me, I am no Pander for him, neither can I be won with the hope of gain, or the itching desire of tasting my lords lechery to him, to keep her at (my house) or bring her in disguise, to his bed Chamber.  
The twines of Adders, and of Scorpions  
About my naked breast, will seem to me  
More tickling than those clasps, which men adore;  
The lustful, dull, ill spirited embraces  
Of women; the much praised Amazones,  
Knowing their own infirmities so well,  
Made of themselves a people, and what men  
They take amongst them, they condemn to die,  
Perceiving that their folly made them fit  
To live no longer, that would willingly  
Come in the worthless presence of a woman.  
I will attend, and see what my young Lord will do with his sister.  Enter Lazarello's Boy. Boy. 
My Lord; the fish head is gone again.  Count. 
Whither.  Boy. 
I know whither my Lord.  Count. 
Keep it from Lazarello: Sister shall I confer with you in private, to know the cause of the Duke's coming hither, I know he makes you acquainted with his business of State.  Oria. 
He satisfy you brother, for I see you are jealous of me.  Gond. 
Now there shall be some course taken for her conveyance.  Laza. 
Lazarello, thou art happy, thy carriage hath begot love, and that love hath brought forth fruits, thou art here in the company of a man honourable, that will help thee to taste of the bounties of the Sea, & when thou hast so done, thou shalt retire thyself unto the Court, & there taste of the delicates of the earth, and be great in the eyes of thy Sovereign: now no more shalt thou need to scramble for thy meat, nor remove thy stomach with the Court; but thy credit shall command thy hearts desire, and all novelties shall be sent as presents unto thee.  Count. 
Good Sister, when you see your own time, will you return home.  Oria. 
Yes brother, and not before.  Laza. 
I will grow popular in this State, & overthrow the fortunes of a number, that live by extortion.  Count. 
Lazarello, bestir thyself nimbly and suddenly, and hear me with patience. to hear.  Laza. 
Let me not fall from myself; speak I am bound  Count. 
So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear the fish head is gone, and we know not whither.  Laz. 
I will not curse, nor swear, nor rage, nor rail,  
Nor with contemptuous tongue, accuse my Fate;  
Though I might justly do it, nor will I  
Wish myself uncreated for this evil:  
Shall I entreat your Lordship to be seen  
A little longer in the company  
Of a man crossed by Fortune.  Count. 
I hate to leave my friend in his extremities.  Laza. 
'Tis noble in you, than I take your hand,  
And do protest, I do not follow this  
For any malice, or for private ends,  
But with a love, as gentle and as chaste,  
As that a brother to his sister bears:  
And if I see this fish head yet unknown,  
The last words that my dying father spoke,  
Before his eyestrings broke, shall not of me  
So often be remembered, as our meeting,  
Fortune attend me, as my ends are just,  
Full of pure love, and free from servile lust.  Count. 
Farewell my Lord, I was entreated to invite your Lordship to a Lady's upsitting.  Gond. 
O my ears, why madam, will not you follow your brother, you are waited for by great men, he'll bring you to him.  Oria. 
I'm very well my Lord, you do mistake me, if you think I affect greater company than yourself.  Gond. 
What madness possesseth thee, that thou canst imagine me a fit man to entertain Ladies; I tell thee, I do use to tear their hair, to kick them, and to twinge their noses, if they be not careful in avoiding me.  Oria. 
Your Lordship may descant upon your own behaviour as please you, but I protest, so sweet and courtly it appears in my eye, that I mean not to leave you yet.  Gond. 
I shall grow rough.  Oria. 
A rough carriage is best in a man, I'll dine with you my Lord.  Gond. 
Why I will starve thee, thou shalt have nothing.  Oria. 
I have heard of your Lordships nothing, I'll put that to the venture.  Gond. 
Well, thou shalt have meat, I'll send it to thee.  Oria. 
I'll keep no state my Lord, neither do I mourn, I'll dine with you.  Gond. 
Is such a thing as this allowed to live:  
What power hath let thee lose upon the earth  
To plague us for our sins? out of my doors.  Oria. 
I would your Lordship did but see how well  
This fury doth become you, it doth show  
So near the life, as it were natural.  Gond. 
O thou damned woman, I will fly the vengeance  
That hangs above thee, follow if thou dar'st.  Exit Gondarino. Oria. 
I must not leave this fellow, I will torment him to madness,  
To teach his passions against kind to move,  
The more he hates, the more I'll seem to love.  Exeunt Oriana and Maid. Enter Pandar and Mercer a citizen. Pand. 
Sir, what may be done by art shall be done,  
I wear not this black cloak for nothing.  Mer. 
Perform this, help me to this great heir by learning, and you shall want no black cloaks, taffeties, silk grograms, satins & velvets are mine, they shallbe yours; perform what you have promised, & you shall make me a lover of Sciences, I will study the learned languages, & keep my shop-book in Latin.  Pand. 
Trouble me not now, I will not fail you within this hour at your shop.  Mer. 
Let Art have her course.  Exit Mercer. Enter Courtesan. Pand. 
'Tis well spoken, Madonna.  Mad. 
Hast thou brought me any customers.  Pan. 
No.  Ma. 
What the devil dost thou in black.  Pa. 
As all solemn professors of settled courses, do cover my knavery with it: will you marry a citizen, reasonably rich, and unreasonably foolish, silks in his shop, money in his purse, and no wit in his head?  Ma. 
Out upon him, I could have been otherwise than so, there was a Knight swore he would have had me, if I would have lent him but forty shillings to have redeemed his cloak, to go to Church in.  Pan. 
Then your waistcoat waiter shall have him, call her in?  Ma. 
Francessina?  Fr. 
anon?  Ma. 
Get you to the Church, and shrive yourself,  
For you shallbe richly married anon.  Pan. 
And get you after her, I will work upon my citizen whilst he is warm, I must nor suffer him to consult with his neighbours, the openest fools are hardly cozened, if they once grow jealous.  Exeunt. 
Finis Actus secun.    

ACTVS III. SCENA I.  
Enter Gondarino flying the Lady. Gond. 
Save me ye better powers, let me not fall  
Between the loose embracements of a woman:  
Heaven, if my sins be ripe grown to a head,  
And must attend your vengeance: I beg not to divert my fate,  
Or to reprieve a while thy punishment  
Only I crave, and hear me equal heavens,  
Let not your furious rod, that must afflict me,  
Be that imperfect piece of nature,  
That art makes up, woman, unsatiate woman.  
Had we not knowing souls, at first infused  
To teach a difference, twixt extremes and goods?  
Were we not made ourselves, free, unconfined  
Commanders of our own affections:  
And can it be, that this most perfect creature,  
This image of his maker, well squared man,  
Should leave the handfast, that he had of grace,  
To fall into a woman's easy arms.  Enter Oriana. Orian. 
Now Venus be my speed, inspire me with all the several subtle temptations, that thou hast already given, or haste in store hereafter to bestow upon our sex: grant that I may apply that Physic that is most apt to work upon him: whether he will soonest be moved with wantonness, singing, dancing, or being passionate, with scorn, or with sad and serious looks, cunningly mingled with sighs, with smiling, lisping, kissing the hand, and making short curtsies; or with whatsoever other nimble power, he may be caught: do thou infuse into me, and when I have him, I will sacrifice him up to thee.  Gond. 
It comes again; new apparitions,  
And tempting spirits: Stand and reveal thyself,  
Tell why thou followest me? I fear thee  
As I fear the place thou camest from: Hell.  Orian. 
My Lord, I am a woman, and such a one—  Gond. 
That I hate truly, thou hadst better been a devil. women.  Orian. 
Why my unpatient Lord?  Gond. 
devils were once good, there they excelled you  Orian 
Can ye be so uneasy, can ye freeze, and  
Such a summer's heat so ready  
To dissolve, nay gentle Lord, turn not away in scorn,  
Nor hold me less fair than I am: look on these checks,  
They have yet enough of nature, true complexion,  
If to be red and white, a forehead high,  
An easy melting lip, a speaking eye,  
And such a tongue, whose language takes the ear  
Of strict religion, and men most austere:  
If these may hope to please, look here.  Gond. 
This woman with entreaty would show all,  
Lady there lies your way, I pray ye farewell.  Orian. 
You're yet too harsh, to dissonant.  
there's no true music in your words, my Lord.  Gond. 
What shall I give thee to be gone?  
hear's ta, and than wants lodging, take my house, 'tis big enough, 'tis shine own, 'twill hold five lecherous Lords, & their lackeys without discovery: there's stoves and bathing tub.  Oria. 
Dear Lord: you're too wild.  Gond. 
shalt have a Doctor too, thou shalt, 'bout six and twenty, 'tis a pleasing age; or I can help thee to a handsome usher: or if thou lack'st a page, i'll give thee one, prithee keep house, and leave me.  Oria. 
I do confess I am too easy, too much woman,  
Not coy enough to take affection,  
Yet I can frown and nip a passion  
Even in the bud: I can say  
Men please their present heats; Then please to leave us.  
I can hold off, and by my chemic power  
Draw Sonnets, from the melting lovers brain.  
ay-mees, and Elegies: yet to you my Lord  
My Love, my better self, I put these off,  
Doing that office, not befits our sex,  
Entreat a man to love;  
Are ye not yet relenting, ha'ye blood and Spirit  
In those veins, ye are no Image, though ye be as hard.  
As marble, sure ye have no liver, if ye had,  
'T would send a lively and desiring heat  
To every member; is not this miserable,  
A thing so truly formed, shaped out by Symmetry,  
Has all the organs that belong to man,  
And working to, yet to show all these  
Like dead motions moving, upon wires,  
Then good my Lord, leave off what you have been,  
And freely be what you were first intended for: a man.  Gond. 
Thou art a precious piece of sly damnation,  
I will be deaf, I will lock up my ears,  
Tempt me not, I will not love; if I do,  Oria. 
Then i'll hate you.  Gond. 
Let me be anointed with honey, and turned into the Sun,  
To be stung to death with horseflies,  
Heart thou, thou breeder, here i'll sit,  
And in despite of thee I will say nothing.  Oria. 
Let me with your fair patience, sit beside you?  Gond. 
Madam, Lady, tempter, tongue, woman, air,  
Look to me, I shall kick; I say again,  
Look to me I shall kick.  Oria. 
I cannot think your better knowledge can use a woman so uncivilly.  Gond. 
I cannot think, I shall become a coxcomb,  
To ha' my hare curled, by an idle finger,  
My cheeks turn tabor, and be played upon,  
Mine eyes looked babies in, & my nose blowed to my hand, mind  
I say again I shall kick, sure I shall.  Oria. 
'tis but your outside that you show: I know your  
Never was guilty of so great a weakness,  
Or could the tongues of all men joined together  
Possess me with a thought of your dislike  
My weakness were above a woman's, to fall off  
From my affection, for one crack of thunder,  
O would you could love my Lord.  Gond. 
I would thou wouldst sit still, and say nothing: what madman let thee loose to do more mischief than a dozen whirlwinds, keep thy hands: in thy muff, and warm the idle worms in thy finger's ends will ye be doing still, will no entreating serve ye, no lawful warning, I must remove and leave your Ladyship; nay never hope to stay me, for I will run, from that Smooth, Smiling, witching, cozening, Tempting, Damning face of thine, as far as I can find any land, where I will put myself into a daily course of Curses for thee, and all thy Family.  Oriana. 
Nay good my Lord sit still, i'll promise peace  
And fold mine Arms up, let but mine eye discourse,  
Or let my voice set to some pleasing cord, sound out  
The sullen strains of my neglected love.  Gond. 
Sing till thou crack thy treble string in pieces,  
And when thou hast done, put up thy pipes and walk,  
Do any thing, sit still and tempt me not.  Oria. 
I had rather sing at doors for bread, then sing to this fellow, but for hate: if this should be told in the Court, that I begin to woe Lords, what a troop of the untrust nobility should I have at my lodging tomorrow morning.  

Come sleep, and with thy sweet deceiving,  
Lock me in delight a while,  
Let some pleasing Dreams beguile  
All my fancies that from thence, Song.  
I may feel an influence,  
All my powers of care bereaving.   

Though but a shadow, but a sliding,  
Let me know some little joy,  
We that suffer long annoy  
Are contented with a thought  
Through an idle fancy wrought  
O let my joys, have some abiding.   Gond. 
Have you done your wassail, 'tis a handsome drowsy ditty i'll assure ye, now I had as lief here a Cart cry, when her tail is cut off, as hear these lamentations, these lousy love-lays, these bewailments, you think you have caught me Lady, you think I melt now, like a dish of May butter, and run, all into brine, and passion, yes, yes, I am taken, look how I cross my arms, look pale, and dwindle, and would cry, but for spoiling my face, we must part, nay we'll avoid all Ceremony, no kissing Lady, I desire to know your Ladyship no more; death of my soul the Duke.  Oria. 
God keep your Lordship.  Gond. 
From thee and all thy sex.  Oria. 
I'll be the clerk and cry Amen,  
Your Lordship's ever assured enemy Oriana.  Exit Oriana, Manet Gondarino.  

ACTVS III SCENA II.  Enter Duke, Arrigo, Lucio. Gond. 
All the days good, attend your Lordship.  Duke. 
We thank you Gonderino, is it possible,  
Can belief lay hold on such a miracle,  
To see thee, one that hath cloistered up all passion,  
Turned wilful votary, and forsworn, converse with women in company and fair discover, with the best beauty of Milan?  Gon. 
'tis true, and if your Grace that hath the sway  
Of the whole State, will suffer this lewd sex,  
These women, to pursue us to our homes,  
Not to be prayed, nor to be railed away,  
But they will woe, and dance, and sing,  
And in a manner, looser than they are  
By nature (which should seem impossible)  
To throw their arms, on our unwilling necks.  Duk. 
No more, I can see through your visor, dissemble it no more,  
Do not I know thou hast used all Art,  
To work upon the poor simplicity  
Of this young Maid, that yet hath known none ill?  
Thinkst that damnation will fright those that woo  
From oaths, and lies? but yet I think her chaste,  
And will from thee, before thou shalt apply  
Stronger temptations, bear her hence with me.  Gond. 
My Lord, I speak not this to gain new grace,  
But howsoever you esteem my words,  
My love and duty will not suffer me  
To see you favour such a prostitute,  
And I stand by dumb; without Rack, Torture,  
Or Strappado, I'll unrip myself,  
I do confess I was in company, with that pleasing piece of frailty, that we call woman; I do confess after A long and tedious siege, I yielded.  Duk. 
Forward.  Gond. 
Faith my Lord to come quickly to the point, the woman you saw with me is a whore; an arrant whore.  Duk. 
Was she not Count valores' Sister?  Gond. 
Yes, that Count valores' Sister in nought.  Duk. 
Thou darest not say so.  Gond. 
Not, if it be distasting to your Lordship, but give me freedom, & I dare maintain, she has embraced this body, and grown to it as close, as the hot youthful vine to the elm.  Duk. 
Twice have I seen her with thee twice my thoughts were prompted by mine eye, to hold thy strictness false and imposterous: is this your mewing up, your strict retirement, your bitterness and gall against that sex: have I not heard thee say, thou wouldst sooner meet the Basilisks dead doing eye, then meet a woman for an object: look it be true you tell me, or by our country's Saint your head goes off: if thou prove a whore, no woman's face shall ever move me more.  Exeunt. Manent Gondarino. Gond. 
So, so, 'tis as it should be, are women grown so mankind? Must they be wooing, I have a plot shall blow her up, she flies, she mounts, I'll teach her Ladyship to dare my fury, I will be known and feared, and more truly hated of women than an Eunuch. Enter Oriana .she's here again, good Gaul be patient, for I must dissemble.  Oria. 
Now my cold frosty Lord, my woman Hater, you that have sworn an everlasting hate to all our sex: by my troth good Lord, and as I am yet a maid, my thought 'twas excellent sport to hear your honour swear out an Alphabet, chafe nobly like a General, kick like a resty jade and make ill faces: Did your good Honour think I was in love? where did I first begin to take that heat? from those two radiant eyes, that piercing sight? oh they were lovely, if the balls stood right; and there's a leg made out of a dainty staff, Where the Gods be thanked, there is calf enough.  Gond. 
Pardon him Lady that is now a convertite,  
Your beauty like a Saint hath wrought this wonder.  Oriana. 
A lass, has it been pricked at the heart, is the stomach come down, will it rail no more at women, and call 'em Devils, she Cats, and Goblins.  Gond. 
He that shall marry thee, had better spend the poor remainder of his days in a Dung-barge, for two pence a week, and find himself: Down again Spleen, I prithee down again, shall I find favour Lady? shall at length my true unfeigned penitence get pardon for my harsh unseasoned follies? I am no more an Atheist, no, I do acknowledge, that dread powerful Deity, and his all quickening heats, burn in my breast: oh be not as I was, hard, unrelenting; but as I am, be partner of my Fires.  Oria. 
Sure we shall have store of Larks, the Skies will not hold up long, I should have looked as soon for frost in the dog days, or another Inundation, as hoped this strange conversion above miracle: let me look upon your Lordship; is your name Gondarino, are you Milan's General, that great Bugbear bloodybones, at whose very name all women, from the Lady to the Laundress, shake like a cold fit.  Gond. 
Good patience help me, this Fever will enrage my blood again: Madam I am that man; I am even he, that once did owe unreconciled hate to you, and all that bear the name of woman: I am the man, that wronged your honour to the Duke, I am he that said you were unchaste, and prostitute; yet I am he, that dare deny all this.  Oria. 
Your big Nobility is very merry.  Gond. 
Lady 'tis true that I have wronged you thus,  
And my Contrition is as true as that,  
Yet have I found a means to make all good again,  
I do beseech your beauty, not for myself,  
My merits are yet in conception,  
But for your honours safety, and my zeal  
Retire a while, whilst I unsay myself unto the Duke,  
And cast out that evil Spirit, I have possessed him with,  
I have a house conveniently private.  Ori. 
Lord, thou hast wronged my innocence, but thy confession hath gained thee faith.  Gond. 
By the true honest service, that I owe those eyes, strangely,  
My meaning is as spotless as my faith.  Oria. 
The Duke doubt mine honour? a may judge  
'Twill not be long, before i'll be enlarged again.  Gond. 
A day or two.  Orian. 
Mine own servants shall attend me.  Gond. 
Your ladyships command is good.  Orian. 
Look you be true.  Exit Oriana Gond. 
else let me lose the hopes my soul aspires to: I will be a scourge to all females in my life, and after my death, the name of Gondarino shall be terrible to the mighty women of the earth; they shall shake at my name, and at the sound of it, their knees shall knock together; and they shall run into Nunneries, for they and I are beyond all hope irreconcilable: for if I could endure an ear with a hole in't, or a pleated lock, or a bareheaded Coachman, that sits like a sign, where great Ladies are to be sold within; agreement betwixt us, were not to be despaired of; if I could be but brought to endure to see women, I would have them come all once a week and kiss me, where Witches do the devil in token of homage: I must not live here, I will to the Court, and there pursue my plot; when it hath took, women shall stand in awe, but of my look.  Exit.  

ACTVS III. SCEN. III.  Enter two Intelligencers, discovering treason in the courtier's words. 1. Intel. 
There take your standing, be close and vigilant, here will I set myself, and let him look to his language, 'a shall know the Duke has more ears in Court than two.  2. Int. 
I'll quote him to a tittle, let him speak wisely, and plainly, and as hidden as a can, or I shall crush him, 'a shall not scape characters, though 'a speak Babel, I shall crush him: we have a Fortune by this service hanging over us, that within this year or two, I hope we shall be called to be examiners, wear politic gowns guarded with copper lace, making great faces full of fear and office, our labours may deserve this.  1. Int. 
I hope it shall: why has not many men been raised from this worming trade, first to gain good access to great men, than to have commissions out for search, and lastly, to be worthily named at a great Arraignment: yes, & why not we? they that endeavour well deserve their Fee. Close, close, 'a comes: mark well, and all goes well.  Enter Count, Lazarello, and his Boy. Laz. 
Farewell my hopes, my Anchor now is broken,  
Farewell my quondam joys, of which no token  
Is now remaining, such is the sad mischance,  
Where Lady Fortune leads the slippery dance.  
Yet at the length, let me this favour have,  
Give me my wishes, or a wished grave.  Count. 
The gods defend so brave and valiant maw,  
Should slip into the never satiate jaw  
Of black Despair; no, thou shalt live and know  
Thy full desires, hunger thy ancient foe,  
Shall be subdued, those guts that daily tumble  
Through air and appetite, shall cease to rumble:  
And thou shalt now at length obtain thy dish,  
That noble part, the sweet head of a fish.  Laz. 
Then am I greater than the Duke.  2. Int. 
There, there's a notable piece of treason, greater than the Duke, mark that.  Count. 
But how, or where, or when this shall be compassed, is yet out of my reach.  Laz. 
I am so truly miserable, that might I be now knocked o'th' head, with all my heart I would forgive a dog killer.  Count. 
Yet do I see through this confusedness some little comfort.  La. 
The plot my Lord, as ere you can of a woman discover.  1. Int. 
Plots, dangerous plots, I will deserve by this most liberally.  Count. 
'Tis from my head again.  Laz. 
O that it would stand me, that I might fight, or have some venture for it, that I might be turned loose, to try my Fortune amongst the whole fry in a College, or an Inn of Court, or scramble with the prisoners in the dungeon; nay were it set down in the outer court,  
And all the Guard about it in a ring,  
With their knives drawn, which were a dismal sight,  
And after twenty leisurely were told,  
I to be let loose, only in my shirt,  
To try the valour, how much of the spoil,  
I would recover from the enemy's mouths:  
I would accept the challenge.  Count. 
Let it go: hast not thou been held  
To have some wit in the Court, and to make fine jests  
Upon country people in progress time, and  
Wilt thou lose this opinion, for the cold head of a Fish?  
I say, let it go: I'll help thee to as good a dish of meat.  Lazar. 
God let me not live, if I do not wonder  
Men should talk so profanely:  
But it is not in the power of loose words,  
Of any vain or misbelieving man,  
To make me dare to wrong thy purity,  
Show me but any Lady in the Court,  
That hath so full an eye, so sweet a breath,  
So soft and white a flesh: this doth not lie  
In almond gloves, nor ever hath been washed  
In artificial baths; no traveler  
That hath brought doctor home with him, hath dared  
With all his waters, powders, fucuses,  
To make thy lovely corpses sophisticate.  Count. 
I have it, 'tis now infused, be comforted.  Laz. 
Can there be that little hope yet left in nature? shall I once more erect up Trophies? shall I enjoy the sight of my dear Saint, and bless my palate with the best of creatures, ah good my Lord, by whom I breathe again, shall I receive this being?  Count. 
Sir, I have found by certain calculation, and settled revolution of the stars, the Fish is sent by the Lord Gondarino to his Mercer, now 'tis a growing hope to know where 'tis.  Laz. 
O 'tis far above the good of women, the pathic cannot yield more pleasing titillation.  Count. 
But how to compass it, search, east about, and bang your brains, Lazarello, thou art to dull and heavy to deserve a blessing.  Laz. 
My Lord, I will not be idle; now Lazarello, think, think, think.  Count. 
Yonder's my Informer  
And his fellow with table books, they nod at me  
Upon my life, they have poor Lazarello that beats  
His brains about no such weighty matter, in for  
Treason before this—  Laz. 
My Lord, what do you think, if I should shave myself, Put on midwives apparel, come in with a handkercher, And beg a piece for a great bellied woman, or a sick child?  Count. 
Good, very good.  Laz. 
Or corrupt the waiting prentice to betray the reversion.  1. Inte. 
there's another point in's plot, corrupt with money to betray: sure 'tis some Fort a means: mark, have a care.  Laz. 
And 'twere the bare vinegar 'tis eaten with, it would in some sort satisfy nature: but might I once attain the dish itself, though I cut out my means through swords and fire, through poison, through any thing that may make good my hopes.  2. Int. 
Thanks to the gods, and our officiousness, the plots discovered, fire, steel, and poison, burn the Palace, kill the Duke, and poison his privy Counsel.  Co. 
To the mercers, let me see: how if before we can attain the means, to make up our acquaintance, the fish be eaten?  Laz. 
If it be eaten, here a stands, that is the most dejected, most unfortunate, miserable, accursed, forsaken slave, this Province yields: I will not sure outlive it, no I will die bravely, and like a Roman; and after death, amidst the Elysian shades, I'll meet my love again.  1. In. 
I will die bravely, like a Roman: have a care, mark that: when he hath done all, he will kill himself.  Count. 
Will no thing ease your appetite but this?  Laz. 
No could the sea throw up his vastness, And offer free his best inhabitants: 'twere not so much as a bare temptation to me.  Count. 
If you could be drawn to affect Beef, Venison, or fowl, 'twould be far the better.  Laza. 
I do beseech your Lordship's patience,  
I do confess that in this heat of blood,  
I have contemned all dull and grosser meats,  
But I protest, I do honour a Chine of beef,  
I do reverence a loin of veal,  
But good my Lord, give me leave a little to adore this:  
But my good Lord, would your Lordship under colour  
of taking up some silks, go to the Mercers, I would in  
all humility attend your honour, where we may be invited,  
if Fortune stand propitious.  Count. 
Sir you shall work me as you please.  Laza. 
Let it be suddenly, I do beseech your Lordship, 'tis now upon the point of dinner time.  Count. 
I am all yours.  Exeunt Lazarello and Count. 1. In. 
Come let us confer, Inprimis 'a saith like a blasphemous villain, he is greater than the Duke, this peppers him, & there were nothing else.  2. In. 
Then 'a was naming plots; did ye not hear?  1. In. 
Yes but a fell from that, unto discovery, to corrupt by money, and so attain.  2. In. 
ay, ay, a meant some Fort, or citadel the Duke hath, his very face betrayed his meaning, O he is a very subtle and a dangerous knave, but if a deal a God's name we shall worm him.  1. In. 
But now comes the Stroke, the fatal blow, Fire, sword, & Poison, O cannibal, thou bloody cannibal.  2. In. 
What had become of this poor state, had not we been?  1. In. 
Faith it had lain buried in his own ashes; had not a greater hand been in't.  2. In. 
But note the rascal's resolution, after th'acts done, because a would avoid all fear of torture, and cozen the Law, a would kill himself? was there ever the like danger, brought to light in this age? sure we shall merit much, we shallbe able to keep two men a piece, & a two hand sword between us, we will live in favour of the State, betray our ten or twelve treasons a week, and the people shall fear us: come, to the Lord Lucio, the Sun shall not go down till a be hanged.  Exeunt.  

ACTVS 3. SCENA. 4.  Enter Mercer. Mer. 
Look to my shop, & if there come ever a Scholar in black, let him speak with me, we that are shopkeepers in good trade, are so pestered, that we can scarce pick out an hour for our morning's meditation: & howsoever we are all accounted dull, and common jesting stocks, for your gallants; there are some of us, do not deserve it: for for my own part, I do begin to be given to my book, I love a scholar with my heart; for questionless there are marvelous things to be done by Art: why sir, some of them will tell you what is become of horses, & silver spoons, & will make wenches dance naked to their beds: I am yet unmarried, and because some of our neighbours are said to be Cuckolds, I will never marry without the consent of some of these scholars, that know what will come of it.  Pan. 
Are you busy sir?  Enter Pandar. Mer. 
Never to you sir, nor to any of your coat. Sir is there any thing to be done by Art, concerning the great heir we talked on?  Pan. 
Will she, will she? she shall come running into my house at the farther corner, in Sa. Marks street, betwixt three and four.  Mer. 
Betwixt three and four? she's brave in clothes; is she not?  Pan. 
O rich! rich! where should I get clothes to dress her in? help me invention: Sir, that her running through the street, may be less noted, my Art more shown, and your fear to speak with her less, she shall come in a white waistcoat, And—  Mer. 
What shall she?  Pan. 
And perhaps torn stockings, she hath left her old wont else.  Enter Prentice. Pren. 
Sir my Lord Gonde. hath sent you a rare fish head.  Mer. 
It comes right, all things suit right with me, since I began to love scholars, you shall have it home with you, against she come: carry it to this Gentleman's house.  Pan. 
The fair white house at the farther Corner at S. Marks street, make haste, I must leave you too Sir. I have two hours to study; buy a new accidence, & ply your book, and you shall want nothing, that all the scholars in the Town can do for you.  Exit Pandar. Mer. 
Heaven prosper both our studies, what a dull slave was I, before I fell in love with this learning? not worthy to tread upon the earth, and what fresh hopes it hath put into me? I do hope within this twelvemonth, to be able by Art, to serve the Court with silks, and not undo myself; to trust knights, and yet get in my money again; to keep my wife brave, and yet she keep nobody else, so. Enter Count, and Lazarello .Your Lordship is most honourably welcome, in regard of your Nobility, but most especially in regard of your scholarship: did your Lordship come openly?  Count. 
Sir this cloak keeps me private, besides no man will suspect me to be in the company of this Gentleman, with whom, I will desire you to be acquainted, he may prove a good customer to you.  Laza. 
For plain silks and velvets.  Mer. 
Are you scholastical?  Laza. 
Something addicted to the Muses.  Count. 
I hope they will not dispute.  Mer. 
You have no skill in the black Art?  Enter a Pren. Pren. 
Sir yonder's a Gentleman, inquires hastily for Count Valour.  Count. 
For me? what is he?  Pren. 
One of your followers my Lord I think.  Count. 
Let him come in.  Mer. 
Shall I talk with you in private Sir?  Enter a Messenger with a Letter to the Count. he reads. Count. 
Count Come to the Court, your business calls you thither, I will go, farewell Sir, i'll see your silks some other time: Farewell Lazarillo.  Mer. 
Will not your Lordship take a piece of Beef with me?  Count. 
Sir I have greater business than eating; I will leave this gentleman with you.  Exeunt Count. & mes. Laza. 
No, no, no, no: now do I feel that strained struggling within me, that I think I could prophesy.  Mer. 
The Gentleman is meditating.  Laza. 
Hunger, valour, Love, ambition, are alike pleasing, and let our Philosophers say what they will, are one kind of heat, only hunger is the safest, ambition is apt to fall; Love and valour are not free from dangers, only hunger, begotten of some old limber Courtier, in paned hose, and nursed by an attorneys wife, now so thriven, that he need not fear to be of the great Turks guard: is so free from all quarrels, and dangers, so full of hopes, joys, and ticklings, that my life is not so dear to me, as his acquaintance.  Enter Lazarello's Boy. Boy. 
Sir, the fish head is gone.  Laza. 
Then be thou henceforth dumb, with thy ill boding voice  
Farewell Milan, fare well noble Duke,  
Farewell my fellow Courtiers all, with whom,  
I have of yore made many a scrambling meal  
In corners, behind arrases, on stairs,  
And in the action often times have spoiled,  
Our Doublets and our hose, with liquid stuff:  
Farewell you lusty archers of the Guard,  
To whom I now do give the bucklers up,  
And never more with any of your coat  
Will eat for wagers, now you happy be,  
When this shall light upon you, think on me:  
You Sewers, carvers, ushers of the Court  
Surnamed gentle, for your fair demean,  
Here I do take of you my last farewell,  
May you stand stiffly in your proper places,  
And execute your offices aright.  
Farewell you maidens, with your mother eke,  
farewell you courtly Chaplains that be there,  
All good attend you, may you never more  
Marry your patron's lady's waiting-woman,  
But may you raised be; by this my fall  
May Lazarillo suffer for you all.  Merc. 
Sir, I was hearkening to you.  Laz. 
I will hear nothing; I will break my knife, the ensign of my former happy state, knock out my teeth, have them hung at a barber's, and enter into Religion.  Boy. 
Why Sir, I think, I know whether it is gone.  Laz. 
See the rashness of man in his nature; whither? whither? I do unsay all that I have said, go on, go on: Boy, I humble myself and follow thee; Farewell sir.  Mer. 
Not so Sir, you shall take a piece of Beef with me.  Laz. 
I cannot stay.  Mer. 
By my fay, but you shall Sir; in regard of your love to learning, and your skill in the black Art.  Laz. 
I do hate learning, and I have no skill in the black Art; I would I had.  Mer. 
Why your desire is sufficient to me, you shall stay.  Laz. 
The most horrible, and detested curses that can be imagined; light upon all the professors of that Art; may they be drunk, & when they go to conjure, & reel in the Circle, may the Spirits by them raised, tear am in pieces, and hang their quarters on old broken walls, and Steeple tops.  Mer 
This speech of yours, shows you to have some skill in the Science, wherefore in civility, I may not suffer you to depart empty.  Laz. 
My stomach is up, I cannot endure it, I will fight in this quarrel, as soon as for my Prince. Room, make way: Draws his Rapier Hunger commands, my valour must obey.  Exeunt Om. 
Finis Act. 3.    

ACTVS IIII SCENA I.  
Enter Count, and Arrigo. Count. 
Is the Duke private?  Arr. 
He is alone, but I think your Lordship may enter.  Exit Count. Enter Gondarino. Gond. 
Who's with the Duke?  Arr. 
The Count is new gone in, but the Duke will come forth, before you can be weary of waiting.  Gond. 
I will attend him here.  Arr. 
I must wait without the door.  Exit Arrigo Gond. 
Doth he hope to clear his sister, she will come no more to my house, to laugh at me: I have sent her to a habitation, where when she shall be seen, it will set a gloss upon her name; yet upon my soul I have bestowed her amongst the purest hearted creatures of her sex, and the freest from dissimulation; for their deeds are all alike, only they dare speak, what the rest think: the women of this age, if there be any degrees of comparison amongst their sex, are worse than those of former times; for I have read of women, of that truth, spirit, and constancy, that were they now living, I should endure to see them: But I fear the writers of the time, belied them, for how familiar a thing is it with the Poets of our age, to extol their whores, which they call mistresses, with heavenly praises? but I thank their furies, and their crazed brains, beyond belief: nay how many that would fain seem serious, have dedicated grave works to ladies toothless, hollow eyed, their hair shedding, purple faced, their nails apparently coming off; and the bridges of their noses broken down; and have called them the choice handy works of nature, the patterns of perfection, and the wonderment of women. Our women begin to swarm like Bees in Summer: as I came hither, there was no pair of stairs, no entry, no lobby, but was pestered with them: methinks there might be some course taken to destroy them.  Enter Arrigo, and an old deaf country gentlewoman suitor to the Duke. Arrigo. 
I do accept your money, walk here, and when the Duke comes out, you shall have fit opportunity to deliver your petition to him.  Gentlew. 
I thank you heartily, I pray you who's he that walks there?  Arr. 
A Lord, and a Soldier, one in good favour with the Duke; if you could get him to deliver your Petition—  Gentlew. 
What do you say Sir?  Arr. 
If you could get him to deliver your petition for you, or to second you, 'twere sure.  Gentlew. 
I hope I shall live to requite your kindness.  Arrig. 
You have already.  Exit Arrigo Gentlew. 
May it please your Lordship—  Gond. 
No, No.  Gentlew. 
To consider the estate—  Gond. 
No.  Gentlew. 
Of a poor oppressed Country Gentlewoman.  Gond. 
No, it doth not please my Lordship.  Gentlew. 
First and foremost, I have had great injury, than I have been brought up to the Town three times.  Gond. 
A pox on him, that brought thee to the Town.  Gentlew. 
I thank your good Lordship heartily; though I cannot hear well, I know it grieves you; and here we have been delayed, and sent down again, and fetched up again, and sent down again, to my great charge: And now at last they have fetched me up, and five of my daughters—  Gond. 
Enough to damn five worlds.  Gentlew. 
Handsome young women, though I say it, they are all without, if it please your Lordship, I'll call them in.  Gond. 
Five women! how many of my senses should I have left me then? call in five Devils first.  
No, I will rather walk with thee alone,  
And hear thy tedious tale of injury,  
And give thee answers; whisper in thine ear,  
And make thee understand; through thy French-hood:  
And all this with tame patience.  Gentlew. 
I see your Lordship does believe, that they are without, and I perceive you are much moved at our injury: her's a paper will tell you more.  Gond. 
A way.  Gentlew. 
It may be you had rather hear me tell it viva voce, as they say.  Gond. 
O no, no, no, no, I have heard it before.  Gentlew. 
Then you have heard of enough injury, for a poor Gentlewoman to receive.  Gond. 
Never, never, but that it troubles my conscience, to wish any good to those women; I could afford them to be valiant, and able, that it might be no disgrace for a Soldier to beat them.  Gentlew. 
I hope your Lordship will deliver my petition to his grace, and you may tell him withal—  Gond. 
What, I will deliver any thing against myself, to be rid on thee.  Gentlew. 
That yesterday, about three o'clock, in the afternoon, I met my adversary.  Gond. 
Give me thy paper, he can abide no long tales.  Gentlew. 
'Tis very short my Lord, and I demanding of him—  Gond. 
I'll tell him that shall serve thy turn.  Gentlew. 
How?  Gond. 
I'll tell him that shall serve thy turn, be gone: man never doth remember how great his offences are, till he do meet with one of you, that plagues him for them: why should women only above all other creatures that were created for the benefit of man, have the use of speech? or why should any deed of theirs, done by their fleshly appetites, be disgraceful to their owners? nay, why should not an act done by any beast I keep, against my consent, disparaged me as much as that of theirs?  Gentlew. 
Here's some few Angels for your Lordship.  Gond. 
Again? yet more torments?  Gentlew. 
Indeed you shall have them.  Gond. 
Keep off.  Gentlew. 
A small gratuity for your kindness.  Gond. 
Hold away.  Gent. 
Why then I thank your Lordship, I'll gather them up again, and I'll be sworn, it is the first money, that was refused, since I came to the court.  Gond. 
What can she devise to say more?  Gentlewo. 
Truly I would have willingly parted with them to your Lordship.  Gond. 
I believe it, I believe it.  Gentlew. 
But since it is thus—  Gond. 
More yet.  Gentlew. 
I will attend without, and expect an answer.  Gond. 
Do, begone, and thou shalt expect, and have any thing, thou shalt have thy answer from him; and he were best to give thee a good one at first, for thy deaf importunity, will conquer him too, in the end.  Gent. 
God bless your Lordship, & all that favour poor distressed country gentlewoman.  Exit Gentlewoman. Gond. 
All the diseases of man, light upon them that do, and upon me when I do; a week of such days, would either make me stark mad, or tame me: yonder other woman that I have sure enough, shall answer for thy sins: dare they incense me still, I will make them fear as much to be ignorant of me and my moods, as men are to be ignorant of the law they live under. Who's there? My blood grew cold, I began to fear my Suitors return; 'tis the Duke.  Enter the Duke and the Count. Count. 
I know her chaste, though she be young & free,  
And is not of that forced behaviour  
That many others are, and that this Lord,  
Out of the boundless malice to the sex,  
Hath thrown this scandal on her.  Gond. 
Fortune, befriended me against my will, with this good old country gentlewoman; I beseech your grace, to view favourably the petition of a wronged gentlewoman.  Duke. 
What Gondarino, are you become a petitioner for your enemies?  Gond. 
My Lord, they are no enemies of mine, I confess the better to cover my deeds, which sometimes were loose enough, I pretended it, as it is wisdom, to keep close our incontinency; but since you have discovered me, I will no more put on that vizard, but will as freely open all my thoughts to you, as to my Confessor.  Duke. 
What say you to this?  Count. 
He that confesses, he did once dissemble,  
I'll never trust his words, can you imagine  
A maid, whose beauty could not suffer her  
To live thus long untempted, by the noblest,  
Richest, and cunningest masters in that Art,  
And yet hath ever held a fair repute;  
Could in one morning, and by him be brought,  
To forget all her virtue, and turn whore?  Gond. 
I would I had some other talk in hand,  
Than to accuse a sister to her brother;  
Nor do I mean it for a public scandal,  
Unless by urging me, you make it so.  Duke. 
I will read this at better leisure: Gondarino, where is the Lady?  Count. 
At his house.  Gond. 
No, she is departed thence.  Count. 
Whither?  Gond. 
Urge it not thus, or let me be excused,  
If what I speak betray her chastity,  
And both increase my sorrow, and your own.  Count. 
Fear me not so, if she deserve the fame  
Which she hath gotten, I would have it published,  
Brand her myself, and whip her through the city:  
I wish those of my blood that do offend,  
Should be more strictly punished, than my foes.  
Let it be proved.  Duke. 
Gondarino, thou shalt prove it, or suffer worse than she should do.  Gond. 
Then pardon me, if I betray the faults  
Of one, I love more dearly then myself,  
Since opening hers, I shall betray mine own:  
But I will bring you, where she now intends  
Not to be virtuous: pride and wantonness,  
That are true friends indeed, though no in show,  
Have entered on her heart, there she doth bathe,  
And sleek her hair, and practise cunning looks,  
To entertain me with; and hath her thoughts  
As full of lust, as ever you did think  
Them full of modesty.  Duk. 
Gondarino, lead on, we'll follow thee.  Exeunt.  

ACTVS IV. SCEN. II.  Enter Pandar. Pan. 
Here hope I to meet my citizen, and here hopes he to meet his scholar; I am sure I am grave enough, to his eyes, and knave enough to deceive him: I am believed to conjure, raise storms, and devils, by whose power I can do wonders; let him believe so still, belief hurts no man: I have an honest black cloak, for my knavery, and a General pardon for his foolery, from this present day, till the day of his Breaking. be't not a misery, and the greatest of our age, to see a handsome, young, fair enough, and well mounted wench, humble herself, in an old stammel petticoat, standing possessed of no more fringe than the street can allow her: her upper parts so poor and wanting, that ye may see her bones through her bodies: shoes she would have, if her captain were come over, and is content the while to devote herself to ancient slippers. These premises well considered, gentlemen will move, they make me melt I promise ye, they stir me much; and were't not for my smooth, soft, silken Citizen, I would quit this transitory trade, get me an everlasting rob, fear up my conscience, and turn Sergeant. But here 'a comes, is mine as good as prize: Sir Pandarus be my speed, ye are most fitly met sir.  Enter Mercer. Mercer. 
And you as well encountered, what of this heir? hath your books been propitious?  Pan. 
Sir, 'tis done, she's come, she is in my house, make yourself apt for Courtship, stroke up your stockings, lose not an inch of your legs goodness; I am sure ye wear socks.  Merc. 
There your books fail ye Sir, in truth I wear no socks.  Pand. 
I would ye had Sir, it were the sweeter grace for your legs; get on your gloves, are they perfumed?  Merc. 
A pretty wash I'll assure you.  Pand. 
'Twill serve: your offers must be full of bounty, velvets to furnish a gown, silks for petticoats and foreparts, shag for linings; forget not some pretty jewel to fasten, after some little complement: if she deny this courtesy, double your bounties, be not wanting in abundance, fullness of gifts, linked with a pleasing tongue, will win an Anchorite. Sir, ye are my friend, and friend to all that professes good letters; I must not use this office else, it fits not for a scholar, and a gentleman: those stockings are of Naples, they are silk?  Merc. 
Ye are again beside your text; sir, they are o' the best of wool, and they cleped jersey.  Pan. 
Sure they are very dear?  Merc. 
Nine shillings, by my love to learning.  Pan. 
Pardon my judgement, we scholars use no other objects, but their books.  Mercer. 
There is one thing entombed in that grave breast, that makes me equally admire it with your scholarship.  Pan. 
Sir, but that in modesty I am bound not to affect mine own commendation, I would inquire it of you?  Merc. 
Sure you are very honest, and yet ye have a kind of modest fear to show it: do not deny it, that face of yours, is a worthy learned modest face.  Pan. 
Sir, I can blush.  Mer. 
Virtue and Grace are always paired together: but I will leave to stir your blood Sir, and now to our business.  Pan. 
Forget not my instructions.  Mer. 
I apprehend ye Sir, I will gather myself together, with my best phrases, and so I shall discourse in some sort takingly.  Pan. 
This was well worded Sir, and like a Scholar.  Mer. 
The Muses favour me as my intents are virtuous; Sir ye shall be my tutor, 'tis never too late Sir to love learning: when I can once speak true latin—  Pan. 
What do you intend Sir?  Mer. 
Marry I will then beggar all your Bawdy writers, and undertake at the peril of my own invention, all Pageants, poesies for Chimneys, Speeches for the Duke's entertainment, whensoever and whatsoever; nay I will build at mine own charge, an Hospital, to which shall retire, all diseased opinions, all broken Poets, all Prose-men that are fallen from small sense, to mere letters; and it shall be lawful, for a Lawyer, if he be a civil man, though a have undone others & himself by the language; to retire to this poor life, and learn to be honest.  Pan. 
Sir ye are very good, and very charitable: ye are a true pattern for the City Sir.  Mer. 
Sir, I do know sufficiently their shop-books cannot save them, there is a further end—  Pan. 
Oh: Sir much may be done by manuscript.  Mer. 
I do confess it Sir, provided still they be canonical, and have some worthy hands set to 'em for probation: but we forget ourselves.  Pan. 
Sir enter when you please, and all good language tip your tongue.  Mer. 
All that love learning pray for my good success.  Exit Mercer.  

ACTVS IIII SCENA III.  Enter Lazarello and his Boy. Laz. 
Boy, whereabouts are we?  Boy. 
Sir by all tokens this is the house, bawdy I am sure by the broken windows, the fish head is within, if ye dare venture, here you may surprise it.  Laza. 
The misery of man may fitly be compared to a Didapper, who when she is under water past our sight, and indeed can seem no more to us, rises again, shakes but herself, and is the same she was; so is it still with transitory man, this day: oh but an hour since, & I was mighty, mighty in knowledge, mighty in my hopes, mighty in blessed means, and was so truly happy, that I durst a said, live Lazarello, and be satisfied: but now—  Boy. 
Sir ye are yet a float and may recover, be not your own wrack, here lies the harbour, go in and ride at ease.  Laza. 
Boy I am received to be a Gentleman, a Courtier, and a man of Action, modest, and wise, and be it spoken with thy reverence Child, abounding virtuous; and wouldst thou have a man of these choice habits, covet the cover of a bawdy house? yet if I go not in, I am but—  Boy. 
But what Sir?  Laza. 
Dust boy, but dust, and my soul unsatisfied shall haunt the keepers of my blessed Saint, and I will appear.  Boy. 
An Ass to all men; Sir these are no means, to stay your appetite, you must resolve to enter.  Laza. 
Were not the house subject to Martial law—  Boy. 
If that be all, Sir ye may enter, for ye can know nothing here, that the Court is ignorant of, only the more eyes shall look upon ye, for there they wink one at another's faults.  Laza. 
If I do not,  Boy. 
Then ye must beat fairly back again, fall to your physical mess of porridge, & the twice sacked carcase of a Capon, Fortune may favour you so much, to send the bread to it: but it's a mere venture, and money may be put out upon it.  Laza. 
I will go in and live; pretend some love to the gentlewoman, screw myself in affection, & so be satisfied.  Pan. 
This fly is caught, is mashed already, I will suck him, and lay him by.  Boy. 
Muffle yourself in your cloak by any means, 'tis a received thing among gallants, to walk to their lechery, as though they had the rheum, 'twas well you brought not your horse.  Laza. 
Why boy?  Boy. 
Faith Sir 'tis the fashion of our gentry, to have their horses wait at door like men, while the beasts their masters, are within at rack & manger, 'twould have discovered much.  Laza. 
I will lay by these habits, forms, and grave respects of what I am, and be myself; only my appetite, my fire, my soul, my being, my dear appetite shall go along with me, armed with whose strength, I fear les will attempt the greatest danger dare oppose my fury: I am resolved wherever that thou art, most sacred dish, hid from unhollowed eyes, to find thee out.  
Be'st thou in hell, rapt by Proserpina,  
To be a Rival in black Pluto's love:  
Or moves thou in the heavens, a form divine:  
Lashing the lazy Spheres:  
Or if thou be'st returned to thy first being,  
Thy mother Sea, there will I seek thee forth,  
Earth, Air, nor Fire,  
Nor the black shades below, shall bar my sight,  
So daring is my powerful appetite.  Boy. 
Sir, you may save this long voyage, and take a shorter cut, you have forgot yourself, the fish head's here, your own imaginations have made you mad.  Laza. 
Term it a jealous fury good my boy.  Boy. 
Faith Sir term it what you will, you must use other terms ere you can get it.  Laza. 
The looks of my sweet love are fair, Fresh and feeding as the Air.  Boy. 
Sir, you forget yourself.  Laz. 
Was never seen so rare a head, Of any Fish alive or dead.  Boy. 
Good Sir remember, this is the house Sir.  Laz. 
Cursed be he that dare not venture.  Boy. 
Pity yourself sir, and leave this fury.  Laz. 
For such a prize, and so I enter.  Exit Lazarello, and Boy. Pan. 
Dun's i'th' mire, get out again how a can: My honest gallant, I'll show you one trick more Than ere the fool your father dreamt of yet. madonna julia?  Enter Madonna julia, a whore. julia. 
What news my sweet rogue, my dear sins broker, what? good news?  Pan. 
There is a kind of ignorant thing, much like a Courtier, now gone in.  Iul. 
Is a gallant?  Pan. 
'a shines not very gloriously, nor does 'a wear one skin perfumed to keep the other sweet; his coat is not in or, nor does the world run yet on wheels with him; is rich enough, and has a small thing follows him, like to a boat tied to a tall ships tail: give him entertainment, be light and flashing like a Meteor, hug him about the neck, give him a kiss, and lisping cry, good Sir; and is thine own, as fast as 'a were tied to thine arms, by Indentures.  Iul. 
I dare do more than this, if 'a be o' the true Court cut; I'll take him out a lesson worth the learning: but we are but their Apes; what's he worth?  Pan. 
Be he rich, or poor, if he will take thee with him, thou mayst use thy trade free from Constables, and Marshals: who hath been here since I went out?  Iul. 
There is a gentlewoman sent hither by a Lord, she's a piece of dainty stuff my rogue, smooth, and soft, as new Satin; she was never gummed yet boy, nor fretted.  Pan. 
Where lies she?  Iul. 
she lies above, towards the street, not to be spoke with, but by the Lord that sent her, or some from him, we have in charge from his servants.  Pan. 
Peace, 'a comes out again upon discovery; up with all your canvas, hale him in; and when thou hast done, clap him aboard bravely, my valiant Pinnace.  Iul. 
Be gone, I shall do reason with him.  Laz. 
Are you the special beauty of this house?  Iul. 
Sir, you have given it a more special regard by your good language, than these black brows can merit.  Laz. 
Lady you are fair.  Iul. 
Fair sir? I thank ye; all the poor means I have left to be thought grateful, is but a kiss, and ye shall have it Sir.  Laz. 
Ye have a very moving lip.  Iul. 
Prove it again Sir, it may be your sense was set too high, & so over wrought itself.  Laz. 
'Tis still the same: how far may ye hold the time to be spent Lady?  Iul. 
four o'clock sir.  Laz. 
I have not eat today.  Iul. 
You will have the better stomach to your supper; in the mean time, I'll feed ye with delight.  Laz. 
'Tis not so good upon am empty stomach: if it might be without the trouble of your house, I would eat?  Iul. 
Sir, we can have a Capon ready.  Laz. 
The day?  Iul. 
'Tis Friday Sir.  Laz. 
I do eat little flesh upon these days.  Iul. 
Come sweet, ye shall not think on meat; I'll drown it with a better appetite.  Laz. 
I feel it work more strangely, I must eat.  Iul. 
'Tis now too late to send; I say ye shall not think on meat: if ye do, by this kiss I'll be angry.  Laz. 
I could be far more sprightful, had I eaten, and more lasting.  Iul. 
What will ye have Sir? name but the Fish, my maid shall bring it, if it may be got.  Laz. 
methinks your house should not be so unfurnished, as not to have some pretty modicum?  Iul. 
It is so now: but could ye stay till supper?  Laz. 
Sure I have offended highly and much, and my inflictions make it manifest, I will retire henceforth, and keep my chamber, live privately, and die forgotten.  Iul. 
Sir I must crave your pardon, I had forgot myself; I have a dish of meat within, & it is fish, I think this Dukedom holds not a daintier: 'tis an Umbrano's head.  Laz. 
Lady, this kiss is yours, and this.  Iul. 
Hoe? within there? cover the board, and set the fish head on it.  Laz. 
Now am I so truly happy, so much above all fate and fortune, that I should despise that man, durst say, Remember Lazarello, thou art mortal.  Enter Intelligencers with a Guard. 2. Int. 
This is the villain, lay hands on him.  Laz. 
Gentlemen, why am I thus entreated? what is the nature of my crime?  2. Int. 
Sir, though you have carried it a great while privately, and (as you think) well; yet we have seen your Sir, and we do know thee Lazarello, for a traitor.  Laz. 
The gods defend our Duke.  2. Int. 
Amen. Sir, Sir, this cannot save that stiff neck from the halter.  Iul. 
Gentlemen, I am glad you have discovered him, 'a should not have eaten under my roof for twenty pounds; and surely I did not like him, when a called for Fish.  Laz. 
My friends, will ye let me have that little favour—  1. Int. 
Sir, ye shall have law, and nothing else.  Laz. 
To let me stay the eating of a bit or two, for I protest I am yet fasting?  Iul. 
I'll have no traitor come within my house.  Lazar. 
Now could I wish myself, I had been Traitor, I have strength enough for to endure it, had I but patience: Man thou art but grass, thou art a bubble, and thou must perish.  
Then lead along, I am prepared for all.  
Since I have lost my hopes, welcome my fall.  2. Int. 
Away sir.  Laz. 
As thou hast hope of man, stay but this dish this two hours, I doubt not but I shall be discharged: by this light I will marry thee.  Iul. 
You shall marry me first then?  Laz. 
I do contract myself unto thee now, before these gentlemen.  Iul. 
I'll preserve it till you be hanged, or quitted.  Laz. 
Thanks, thanks.  2. Int. 
Away, away, you shall thank her at the gallows.  Laz. 
Adieu, adieu.  Exeunt Lazar. 2. Intell. and Guard. Iul. 
If he live, I'll have him; if he be hanged, there's no loss in it.  Exit. Enter Oriana and her waiting woman: look out at a window. Orian. 
Hast thou provided one to bear my letter to my brother?  Wait. 
I have inquired, but they of the house will suffer no letter nor message to be carried from you, but such as the Lord Gondarino shall be acquainted with: Truly Madam, I suspect the house to be no better than it should be.  Orian. 
What dost thou doubt?  Wait. 
Faith, I am loath to tell it Madam.  Oria. 
Out with it, 'tis not true modesty to fear to speak that thou dost think.  Wait. 
I think it be one of these same bawdy houses.  Oria. 
'Tis no matter wench, we are warm in it; keep thou thy mind pure, and upon my word, that name will do thee no hurt: I cannot force myself yet to fear any thing; when I do get out, I'll have another encounter with my Woman Hater. Here will I sit, I may get sight of some of my friends, it must needs be a comfort to them to see me here.  Enter Duke, Gondarino, Count, Arrigo. Gond. 
Are we all sufficiently disguised? for this house where she attends me, is not to be visited in our own shapes.  Duke. 
We are not ourselves.  Arri. 
I know the house to be sinful enough, yet I have been heretofore, and durst now, but for discovering of you, appear here in my own likeness.  Duke. 
Where's Lucio?  Arri. 
My Lord, he said, the affairs of the Commonwealth, would not suffer him to attend always.  Duk. 
Some great ones questionless that he will handle.  Count. 
Come, let us enter?  Gond. 
See how Fortune strives, to revenge my quarrel upon these women, she's in the window, were it not to undo her, I should not look upon her.  Duk. 
Lead us. Gondarino.  Gond. 
Stay, since you force me to display my shame,  
Look there, and you my Lord, know you that face?  Duk. 
'Tis she?  Count. 
It is.  Gond. 
'Tis she, whose greatest virtue ever was  
Dissimulation, she that still hath strove  
More to sin cunningly then to avoid it:  
She that hath ever sought to be accounted  
Most virtuous, when she did deserve most scandal:  
'Tis she that itches now, and in the height  
Of her intemperate thoughts, with greedy eyes  
Expects my coming to allay her lust:  
Leave her, forget she's thy sister.  Count. 
Stay, stay.  Duke. 
I am as full of this, as thou canst be,  
The memory of this will easily  
Hereafter stay my loose and wandering thoughts  
From any woman.  Count. 
This will not down with me, I dare not trust this fellow.  Duke. 
Leave her here, that only shall be her punishment, never to be fetched from hence; but let her use her trade to get her living.  Count. 
Stay, good my Lord, I do believe all this, as great men as I have had known whores to their sisters, & have laughed at it, I would fain hear how she talks, since she grew thus light: will your grace make him show himself to her, as if he were now come to satisfy her longing? whilst we unseen of her, overhear her wantonness, let's make our best of it now we shall have good mirth.  Duk. 
Do it Gondarino.  Gond. 
I must; fortune assist me but this once.  Count. 
Here we shall stand unseen, and near enough.  Gond. 
madam, Oriana.  Oria. 
whose's that? O! my Lord?  Gond. 
Shall I come up?  Oria. 
O you are merry, shall I come down?  Gond. 
It is better there.  Ori. 
What is the confession of the lie you made to the Duke, which I scarce believe yet you had impudence enough to do? did not gain you so much faith with me, as that I was willing to be at your Lo. bestowing, till you had recovered my credit, and confessed yourself a liar, as you pretended to do? I confess I began to fear you, and desired to be out of your house, but your own followers forced me hither.  Gond. 
'Tis well suspected, dissemble still, for there are some may hear us.  Ori. 
More tricks yet, my Lord? what house this is I know not, I only know myself, it were a great conquest if you could fasten a scandal upon me: i'faith my Lord, give me leave to write to my brother?  Duk. 
Come down.  Count. 
Come down.  Arr. 
If it please your grace there's a back door.  Count. 
Come meet us there then?  Duk. 
It seems you are acquainted with the house.  Arr. 
I have been in it.  Gond. 
She saw you, and dissembled.  Duke. 
Sir, we shall know that better.  Gond. 
Bring me unto her, if I prove her not  
To be a strumpet, let me be contemned  
Of all her sex.  Exeunt. 
Finis Act. 4.    

ACTVS V. SCENA I.  
Enter Lucio. Lu. 
Now whilst the young Duke follows his delights,  
We that do mean to practise in the State,  
Must pick our times, and set our faces in,  
And nod our heads, as it may prove most fit  
For the main good of the dear Commonwealth:  
whose's within there?  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
My Lord?  Luc. 
Secretary, fetch the gown I use to read petitions in, and the standish I answer French Letters with, and call in the gentleman that attends: Exit Seru.  
Little know they that do not deal in State,  
How many things there are to be observed,  
Which seem but little; yet by one of us  
(Whose brains do wind about the Commonwealth)  
Neglected, cracks our credits utterly. Enter Gentleman & a seru..  
Sir, but that I do presume upon your secrecy,  
I would not have appeared to you thus ignorantly attired without a toothpick in a ribbon, or a ring in my bandstrings.  Gent. 
Your Lordship sent for me?  Luc. 
I did: Sir your long practice in the state under a great man hath led you to much experience.  Gent. 
My Lord.  Luc. 
Suffer not your modesty to excuse it, in short and in private I desire your direction, I take my study already to be furnished after a grave and wise method.  Gent. 
What will this Lord do?  Lu. 
My book-strings are suitable & of a reaching colour.  Gent. 
How's this?  Lucio. 
My Standish of Wood strange and sweet, and my fore-flap hangs in the right place, and as near machiavel's, as can be gathered by tradition.  Gent. 
Are there such men as will say nothing abroad. and play the fools in their lodgings? this Lord must be followed: and hath your Lordship some new made words to scatter in your speeches in public, to gain note, that the hearers may carry them away, and dispute of them at dinner?  Luc. 
I have Sir: and besides my several gowns and caps agreeable to my several occasions.  Gent. 
'Tis well, and you have learned to write a bad hand, that the Readers may take pains for it.  Luc. 
Yes sir: and I give out I have the palsy.  Gent. 
Good, 'twere better though, if you had it, your Lo. hath a Secretary, that can write fair, when you purpose to be understood.  Luc. 
Faith sir I have one, there he stands, he hath been my secretary this 7. years, but he hath forgotten to write.  Gent. 
If he can make a writing face, it is not amiss, so he keep his own counsel: your Lo. hath no hope of the gout?  Luc. 
Vh, little sir, since the pain in my right foot left me.  Gen. 
'Twill be some scandal to your wisdom, though I see your Lo. knows enough in public business.  Luc. 
I am not employed (though to my desert) in occasion foreign, nor frequented for matters domestical.  Gent. 
Not frequented? what course takes your Lordship?  Luc. 
The readiest way, my door stands wide, my Secretary knows I am not denied to any.  Gent. 
In this (give me leave) your Lordship is out of the way: make a back door to let out Intelligencers; seem to be ever busy, and put your door under keepers, and you shall have a troup of clients sweating to come at you.  Luc. 
I have a backdoor already, I will henceforth be busy, secretary run and keep the door.  Exit Secretary. Gent. 
This will fetch am?  Luc. 
I hope so.  Enter Secretary. Secr. 
My Lord, there are some require access to you about weighty affairs of state.  Luci. 
All ready.  Gent. 
I told you so.  Luci. 
How weighty is the business.  Secr. 
Treason my Lord.  Luci. 
Sir, my debts to you for this are great.  Gent. 
I will leave your Lordship now.  Luci. 
Sir my death must be sudden, if I requite you not; at the back door good Sir.  Gant. 
I will be your Lordship's intelligencer for once.  Exit Gentleman, Enter Secretary. Secr. 
My Lord.  Luci. 
Let'em in, and say I am at my study.  Enter Lazarello, & two Intelligensers. Lucio being at his study. 1. In. 
Where is your Lord?  Secr. 
At his study, but he will have you brought in.  Laza. 
Why Gentlemen, what will you charge me withal?  2. In. 
Treason, horrible treason, I hope to have the leading of thee to prison, and prick thee on i'th' arse with a halberd: to have him hanged that salutes thee, and call all those in question, that spit not upon thee.  Laza. 
My thread is spun, yet might I but call for this dish of meat at the gallous, in stead of a Psalm, it were to be endured: the Curtain opens, now my end draws on.  Secretary draws the curtain. Luci. 
Gentlemen I am not empty of weighty occasions at this time; I pray you your business.  1. In. 
My Lord, I think we have discovered one of the most bloody Traitors, that ever the world held.  Luci. 
signor Lazarillo, I am glad you're one of this discovery, give me your hand.  2. In. 
My Lord that is the Traitor.  Luci. 
Keep him off, I would not for my whole estate have touched him.  Laz. 
My Lord.  Luci. 
Peace Sir, I know the devil is at your tongue's end, to furnish you with speeches? what are the particulars? you charge him with. They deliver a paper to Lucio, who reads.  both In. 
We have conferred our notes, & have extracted that, which we will justify upon our oaths.  Lucio. 
That he would be greater than the Duke, that he had cast plots for this, and meant to corrupt some to betray him, that he would burn the City, kill the Duke, and poison the privy Council; and lastly kill himself. Though thou deserv'st justly to be hanged, with silence yet I allow thee to speak, be short.  Laza. 
My Lord, so many my greatest wish succeed,  
So may I live, and compass what I seek,  
As I had never treason in my thoughts,  
Nor ever did conspire the overthrow  
Of any creatures, but of brutish beasts,  
Fowls, Fishes, and such other humane food  
As is provided for the good of man,  
If stealing Custards, Tarts, and Florentines  
By some late Statute be created treason;  
How many fellow Courtiers can I bring,  
Whose long attendance, and experience,  
Hath made them deeper in the plot than I.  Luci. 
Peace, such hath ever been the clemency of my gracious master the Duke, in all his proceedings, that I had thought, and thought I had thought rightly; that malice would long ere this, have hid herself in her den, and have turned her own sting against her own heart: but I well now perceive; that so forward is the disposition of a depraved nature; that it doth not only seek revenge, where it hath received injuries; but many times thirst after their destruction, where it hath met with benefits.  Laz. 
But my good Lord—  2. In. 
Let's gag him.  Luci. 
Peace again, but many times thirst after destruction, where it hath met with benefits; there I left: Such, & no better are the business, that we have now in hand.  1. In. 
he's excellently spoken.  2. In. 
he'll wind a traitor I warrant him.  Luci. 
But surely methinks, setting aside the touch of Conscience, and all other inward convulsions.  2. In. 
he'll be hanged, I know by that word.  Laza. 
Your Lordship may consider—  Luci. 
Hold thy peace: thou canst not answer this speech: no traitor can answer it: but because you cannot answer this speech; I take it you have confessed the Treason.  1. In. 
The Count Valour was the first that discovered him, and can witness it, but he left the matter to your Lordship's grave consideration.  Luci. 
I thank his Lordship, carry him away speedily to the Duke.  Laza. 
Now Lazarillo thou are tumbled down  
The hill of Fortune, with a violent arm;  
All plagues that can be, Famine, and the sword  
Will light upon thee, black despair will boil  
In thy despairing breast, no comfort by,  
Thy Friends far off, thy enemies are nigh.  Luci. 
Away with him, I'll follow you, look you pinion him, and take his money from hurt, lest he swallow a shilling and kill himself.  2. In. 
Get then on before.  Exeunt.  

ACTVS 5. SCENA. 3.  Enter the Duke, the Count, Gondarino, and Arrigo. Duke. 
Now Gondarino, what can you put on now  
That may again deceive us,  
Have ye more strange illusions, yet more mists,  
Through which the weak eye may be led to error:  
What can ye say that may do satisfaction  
Both for her wronged honour, and your ill?  Gond. 
All I can say or may is said already,  
She is unchaste, or else I have no knowledge,  
I do not breathe, nor have the use of sense.  Duke. 
Dare ye be yet so wilful, ignorant,  
Of your own nakedness, did not your servants  
In mine own hearing confess  
They brought her to that house, we found her in;  
Almost by force: and with a great distrust  
Of some ensuing hazard.  Count. 
He that hath begun so worthily,  
It fits not with his resolution  
To leave of thus: my Lord I know these are but idle proofs.  
What says your Lordship to them?  Gond. 
Count, I dare yet pronounce again, thy Sister is not honest.  Coun. 
You are yourself my Lord, I like your settledness.  Gond. 
Count thou art young, and unexperienced, in the dark hidden ways of women. Thou dar'st affirm with confidence a Lady of fifteen may be a maid.  Cont. 
Sir if it were not so, I have a Sister would set near my heart.  Gond. 
Let her sit near her shame, it better fits her: call back the blood that made our stream in nearness, and turn the Currant to a better use, 'tis too much mudded, I do grieve to know it.  Duke. 
Dar'st thou make up again, dar'st to turn face, knowing we know thee, hast thou not been discovered openly: did not our ears hear her deny thy courtings? did we not see her blush with modest anger, to be so overtaken by a trick; can ye deny this Lord?  Gond. 
Had not your Grace, and her kind brother  
Been within level of her eye,  
You should have had a hotter volley from her  
More full of blood and fire, ready to leap the window, where she stood.  
So truly sensual is her appetite,  Duke. 
Sir, Sir, these are but words and tricks, give me the proof.  Count. 
What need a better proof than your Lordship, I am sure ye have lain with her my Lord.  Gond. 
I have confessed it Sir.  Duke. 
I dare not give thee credit without witness.  Gond. 
does your Grace think, we carry seconds, with us, to search us, and see fair play: your Grace hath been ill tutored in the business; but if you hope to try her truly, and satisfy yourself what frailty is, give he the Test: do not remember Count she is your Sister; nor let my Lord the Duke believe she is fair; but put her to't'it without hope or pity, than ye shall see that golden form fly off, that all eyes wonder at for pure and fixed, and under it, base blushing copper; metal not worth the meanest honour: you shall behold her then my Lord Transparent, look through her heart, and view the spirits how they leap, and tell me then, I did bely the Lady.  Duke. 
It shallbe done: come Gondarino bear us company,  
We do believe thee she shall die, and thou shalt see it.  Enter Lazarello, 2. Intelligensers, and Guard. 
How now my friends, whom have ye guarded hither.  2. In. 
So please your Grace we have discovered a a villain and a Traitor: the Lord Lucio hath examined him, and sent him to your Grace for judgement.  Count. 
My Lord, I dare absolve him from all sin of Treason: I know his most ambitions is but a dish of meat; which a'hath hunted, with so true a sent, that he deserveth the Collar, not the Halter.  Duke. 
Why do they bring him thus bound up? the poor man had more need of some warm meat, to comfort his cold stomach.  Count. 
Your grace shall have the cause hereafter, when when you may laugh more freely. But these are called Informers: men that live by Treason; as Rat-chatchers do by poison.  Du. 
Could there were no heavier prodigies hung over us, than this poor fellow, I durst redeem all perils ready to power themselves upon this state, with a cold Custard.  Cou. 
Your grace might do it, without danger toy our person.  Laza. 
My Lord, if ever I intended Treason against your person, or the state, unless it were by wishing from your Table, some dish of meat; which I must needs confess, was not a subject's part: or coveting by stealth, sups from those noble bottles, that no mouth keeping allegiance true, should dare to taste: I must confess with more than covetous eyes, I have be held those dear concealed dishes, that have been brought in, by cunning equipage, to wait upon your grace's palate: I do confess out of this present heat, I have had stratagems, & ambuscadoes: but God be thanked they have never took.  Duke. 
Count, this business is your own; when you have done, repair to us.  Exit Duke. Coun. 
I will attend your grace: Lazarello, you are at liberty, be your own man again; and if ye can be master of your wishes, I wish it may be so.  Laz. 
I humbly thank your Lordship: I must be unmannerly, I have some present business, once more I heartily thank your Lordship.  Exit Lazarillo. Count. 
Now even a word or two to you, and so farewell; you think you have deserved much of this state, by this discovery: you're a slavish people, grown subject to the common course of all men. How much unhappy were that noble spirit, could work by such baser gains? what misery would not a knowing man put on, with willingness, ere he see himself grown fat and full fed, by fall of those you rise by? I do discharge ye my attendance; our healthful state needs no such Leeches to suck out her blood.  1 Intel. 
I do beseech your Lordship.  2 Int. 
Good my L.  Count. 
Go learn to be more honest, when I see you work your means from honest industry, Exeunt Informers.  
I will be willing to accept your labours:  
Till then I will keep back my promised favours:  
Here comes another remnant of folly: Enter Lucio.  
I must dispatch him too. Now Lord Lucio, what business bring you hither?  Lucio. 
Faith Sir, I am discovering what will become of that notable piece of Treason, intended by that varlet Lazarello; I have sent him to the Duke for judgement.  Count. 
Sir you have performed the part of a most careful statesman, and let me say it to your face, Sir of a Father to this state: I would wish you to retire, and ensconce yourself in study: for such is your daily labour, and our fear, that the loss of an hour may breed our overthrow.  Lucio. 
Sir I will be commanded by your judgement, and though I find it a trouble scant to be waded through, by these weak years, yet for the dear care of the Commonwealth, I will bruise my brains, and confine myself too much vexation.  Count. 
Go, and mayest thou knock down Treason like an Ox.  Lucio. 
Amen.  Exeunt. Enter Mercer, Pander, Francisina. Mer. 
Have I spoke thus much in the honour of learning? learned the names of the seven liberal Sciences, before my marriage; & since, have in haste written Epistles congratulary, to the 9 Muses: & is she proved a whore & a Beggar?  Pan. 
'tis true, you are not now to be taught, that no man can be learned of a sudden; let not your first project discourage you, what you have lost in this, you may get again in Alchemy.  Fran. 
Fear not husband, I hope to make as good a wife, as the best of your neighbours have, and as honest.  Mer. 
I will go home; good sir do not publish this, as long as it runs amongst ourselves; 'tis good honest mirth: you'll come home to supper; I mean to have all her friends & mine as ill as it goes.  Pan. 
Do wisely sir, & bid your own friends, your whole wealth will scarce feast all hers, neither is it for your cedit, to walk the streets, with a woman so noted, get you home, and provide her clothes: let her come an hour hence with an hand-basket & shift herself, she'll serve to sit at the upper end of the Table, & drink to your customers.  Mer. 
Art is just, and will make me amends.  Pan. 
No doubt Sir.  Mer. 
The chief note of a Scholar you say, is to govern his passions; wherefore I do take all patiently; in sign of which my most dear wife, I do kiss thee: make haste home after me, I shall be in my Study.  Exit Mer. Pan. 
Go, a vaunt, my new City dame, send me what you promised me for consideration; and mayst thou prove a Lady.  Fran. 
Thou shalt have it, his silks shall fly for it.  Enter Lazarello and his Boy Exeunt Lazarello. 
How sweet is a calm after a tempest, what is there now that can stand betwixt me and felicity? I have gone through all my crosses constantly; have confounded my enemies, and know where to have my longings satisfied; I have my way before me, there is the door, and I may freely walk into my delights. knock Boy.  julia. 
Who's their?  within Laz. 
Madonna my love, not guilty, not guilty, open the door.  Enter julia julia 
Art thou come sweet heart?  Laz. 
Yes to thy soft embraces, and the rest of my overflowing blisses; come let us in and swim in our delights: a short grace as we go, and so to meat.  julia. 
Nay my dear love, you must bear with me in this; we'll to the Church first.  Laza. 
Shall I be sure of it then.  julia 
By my love you shall.  Laz. 
I am content, for I do now wish to hold off longer, to whet my appetite, and do desire to meet with more troubles, so I might conquer them.  
And as a holy lover that hath spent  
The tedious night, with many a sigh and tears;  
Whilst he pursued his wench: and hath observed  
The smiles, and frowns, not daring to displease;  
When at last, hath with his service won  
Her yielding heart; that she begins to dote  
Upon him, and can hold not longer out,  
But hangs about his neck, and woes him more  
Than ever he desired her love before:  
Then begins to flatter his desert,  
And growing wanton, needs will cast her off;  
Try her, pick quarrels, to breed fresh delight,  
And to increase his pleasing appetite.  Iul. 
Come Mouse, will you walk?  Laz. 
I pray thee let me be delivered of the joy I am so big with; I do feel that high heat within me, that I begin to doubt whether I be mortal?  
How I contemn my fellows in the Court,  
With whom I did but yesterday converse,  
And in a lower and an humbler key  
Did walk, and meditate on grosser meats:  
There are they still poor rogues, shaking their chops,  
And sneaking after cheeses, and do run  
Headlong in chase of every jack of Beer  
That crosseth them, in hope of some repast,  
That it will bring them to; whilst I am here,  
The happiest wight, that ever set his tooth  
To a dear novelty: approach my love,  
Come let's go to knit the true loves knot,  
That never can be broken.  Boy. 
That is to marry a whore.  Laz. 
When that is done, then will we taste the gift,  
Which Fates have sent, my fortunes up to lift.  Boy. 
When that is done, you'll begin to repent, upon a full stomach; but I see, 'tis but a form in destiny, not to be altered.  Exeunt Enter Arrigo, and Oriana. Orian. 
Sir, what may be the currant of your business, that thus you single out your time and place?  Arrigo. 
madam, the business now imposed upon me, concerns you nearly; I wish some worser man might finish it.  Or. 
Why are ye changed so? are ye not well sir?  Arr. 
Yes madam, I am well, would you were so.  Orrian. 
Why sir? I feel myself in perfect health.  Arr. 
And yet ye cannot live long, madam.  Oria. 
Why good Arrigo?  Arr. 
Why, ye must die.  Oria. 
I know I must, but yet my fate calls not upon me.  Arr. 
It does; this hand the Duke commands shall give you death.  Orian. 
Heaven, and the powers divine, guard well the innocent.  Arr. 
Lady, your prayers may do your soul some good,  
That sure your body cannot merit by'vm:  
You must prepare to die.  Orian. 
What's my offence? what have these years committed,  
That may be dangerous to the Duke or State?  
Have I conspired by poison? have I given up  
My honour to some loose unsettled blood  
That may give action to my plots?  
Dear sir, let me not die ignorant of my faults?  Arr. 
Ye shall not.  
Then Lady, you must know, you are held unhonest;  
The Duke, your brother, and your friends in court,  
With too much grief condemn ye: though to me,  
The fault deserves not to be paid with death.  Orian. 
Who is my accuser?  Arr. 
Lord Gondarino.  Orian. 
Arrigo, take these words, and bear them to the Duke,  
It is the last petition I shall ask thee:  
Tell him the child, this present hour brought forth  
To see the world, has not a soul more pure, more white,  
More virgin than I have. Tell him Lord Gondarino's  
Plot, I suffer for, and willingly: tell him it had been a greater  
honour, to have saved then killed: but I have done: strike,  
I am armed for heaven. Why stay you? is there any hope?  Arr. 
I would not strike.  Orian. 
Have you the power to save?  Arr. 
With hazard of my life, if it should be known?  Orian. 
You will not venture that?  Arr. 
I will: Lady, there is that means yet to escape your death, if you can wisely apprehend it.  Orian. 
Ye dare not be so kind?  Arr. 
I dare, and will, if you dare but deserve it.  Orian. 
If I should slight my life, I were too blame.  Arr. 
Then madam, this is the means, or else you die: I love you.  Orian. 
I shall believe it, if you save my life.  Arr. 
And you must lie with me.  Orian. 
I dare not buy my life so.  Arr. 
Come ye must resolve, say yea or no.  Orian. 
Then no; nay look not ruggedly upon me,  
I am made up too strong, to fear such looks.  
Come, do your butcher's part: before I would win life,  
with the dear loss of honour, I dare find means to free myself.  Arr. 
Speak, will ye yield?  Orian. 
Villain, I will not; murderer do thy worst, thy base unnoble thoughts dare prompt thee to; I am above thee slave.  Arr. 
Will thou not be drawn to yield by fair persuasions?  Orian. 
No nor by—  Arr. 
Peace, know your doom then; your Ladyship must remember, you are not now at home, where you dare jest at all that come about you: but you are fallen under my mercy, which shall be small: if thou refuse to yield, hear what I have sworn unto myself; I will enjoy thee, though it between the parting of thy soul and body. Yield yet and live.  Orian. 
I'll guard the one, let heavens guard the other.  Ar. 
Are ye so resolute then? Duke. from above. Hold, hold, I say.  Oria. 
What have I? yet more terror to my tragedy?  Arr. 
Lady, the scene of blood is done; ye are now as free from scandal, as from death.  Enter Duke, Count, and Gondarino. Duke. 
Thou woman which wert borne to teach virtue  
Fair, sweet, and modest maid forgive my thoughts,  
My trespass was my love. Seize Gondarino, let him 〈◊〉 dooms.  Gond. 
I do begin in a little to love this woman; I could endure her already twelve miles off.  Count. 
Sister, I am glad you have brought your honour off so fairly, without loss: you have done a work above your sex, the Duke admires it; give him fair encounter.  Duk. 
Best of all comforts; may I take this hand, and call it mine?  Oria. 
I am your grace's handmaid.  Duk. 
Would ye had said myself: might it not be so Lady?  Count. 
Sister, say I: I know ye can afford it.  Orian. 
My Lord, I am your subject, you may command me, provided still, your thoughts be fair and good.  Du. 
Here, I am yours; and when I cease to be so,  
Let heaven forget me: thus I make it good.  Ori. 
My Lord, I am no more mine own.  Count. 
So: this bargain was well driven.  Gond. 
Duke, thou hast sold away thyself to all perdition; thou art this present hour becoming cuckold: methinks I see thy gall grate through thy veins, and jealousy seize thee with her talents: I know that woman's nose must be cut off, she cannot scape it.  Duk. 
Sir, we have punishment for you.  Or. 
I do beseech your Lordship, for the wrongs this man hath done me, let me pronounce his punishment.  Duk. 
Lady, I give to you, he is your own.  Gon. 
I do beseech your grace, let me be banished with all the speed that may be.  Count. 
Stay still, you shall attend her sentence.  Orian. 
Lord Gondarino, you have wronged me highly, yet since it sprung from no peculiar hate to me, but from a general dislike unto all women, you shall thus suffer for it; Arrigo, call in some Ladies to assist us: will your Grace take your State?  Gon. 
My Lord I do beseech your Grace for any punishment saving this woman, let me be sent upon discovery of some Island, I do desire but a small gondole, with ten Holland Cheeses, and i'll undertake it.  Oria. 
Sir ye must be content, will ye sit down? nay do it willingly. Arrigo tie his arms close to the chair, I dare not trust his patience.  Gond. 
may'st thou be quickly old and painted; may'st thou dote upon some sturdy Yeoman of the woodyard, and he be honest; may'st thou be barred the lawful lechery of thy Coach for want of Instruments; and last, be thy womb unopened.  Duke. 
This fellow hath a pretty gall.  Count. 
My Lord, I hope to see him purged ere a part.  Enter Ladies. Oria. 
Your Ladyships are welcome: I must desire your helps, though you are no Physicians, to do a strange cure upon this Gentleman.  Ladies. 
In what we can assist ye Madam, ye may command us.  Gond. 
Now do I fit like a conjuror within my circle, and these the Devils that are raised about me, I will pray that they may have no power upon me.  Oria. 
Ladies fall off in couples, then with a soft still march with low demeanours, charge this Gentleman: i'll be your leader.  Gond. 
Let me be quartered Duke quickly, I can endure it: these women, long for man's flesh, let them have it.  Duke. 
Count, have you ever seen so strange a passion? what would this fellow do, if a should find himself in bed with a young Lady?  Count. 
Faith my Lord, if a could get a knife, sure a would cut her throat, or else 'a would do as Hercules did by Lycas, swing out her soul: has the true hate of a woman in him.  Oria. 
Low with your curtsies Ladies.  Gond. 
Come not too near me, I have a breath will poison ye, my lungs are rotten, and my stomach raw; I am given much to belching: hold off, as you love sweet airs; Ladies by your first night's pleasure, I conjure you, as you would have your husband's proper men, strong backs, and little legs, as you would have 'em hate your waiting women.  Oria. 
Sir we must court ye till we have obtained some little favour from those gracious eyes, 'tis but a kiss a piece.  Gond. 
I pronounce perdition to ye all; ye are a parcel of that damned Crew, that fell down with Lucifer, and here ye stayed on earth, to plague poor men; vanish, avaunt, I am fortified against your charms; heaven grant me breath and patience.  1. Lady. 
Shall we not kiss then?  Gond. 
No, fear my lips with hot irons first, or stitch them up like a ferret's: O that this brunt were over.  2. Lad. 
Come, come, little rogue, thou art too maidenly by my troth, I think I must box thee, till thou be'st boulder; the more bold, the more welcome: I pray thee kiss me, be not afraid?  she sits on his knee. Gond. 
If there be any here, that yet have so much of the fool left in them, as to love their Mothers, let them look on her, and loathe them too.  2. Lad. 
What a slovenly little villain art thou, why dost thou not stroke up thy hair? I think thou ne'er comb'st it: I must have it lie in better order; so, so, so, let me see thy hands, are they washed?  Gond. 
I would they were loose for thy sake.  Duke. 
She tortures him admirably.  Count. 
The best that ever was.  2. Lad. 
Alas how cold they are poor golls, why dost thee not get thee a musse?  Arr. 
Madam, her's an old Country gentlewoman at the door, that came nodding up for justice, she was with the Lord Gondarino today, and would now again come? to the speech of him; she says.  Oria. 
Let her in, for sport's sake, let her in.  Gond. 
Mercy O Duke, I do appeal to thee: plant Cannons there, and discharge them against my breast rather: nay first, let this she fury sit still where she does, and with her nimble fingers stroke my hair, play with my finger's ends, or anything, until my panting heart have broken my breast.  Duke. 
You must abide her censure.  The Lady rises from his knee. Enter old Gentlewoman. Gond. 
I see her come, unbutton me, for she will speak.  Gentlew. 
Where is he Sir?  Gond. 
Save me, I hear her.  Arri. 
There he is in state, to give you audience.  Gentlew. 
How does your good Lordship?  Gond. 
Sick of the spleen.  Gentlewo. 
How?  Gond. 
Sick.  Gentlew. 
Will you chew a Nutmeg, you shall not refuse it, 'tis very comfortable.  Gond. 
Nay now thou art come, I know it is the devils jubilee, hell is broke loose:  
My Lord, If ever I have done you service,  
Or have deserved a favour of your Grace,  
Let me be turned upon some present Action,  
Where I may sooner die, then languish thus;  
Your Grace hath her petition, grant it her, and ease me now at last.  Duke. 
No Sir, you must endure.  Gentlew. 
For my petition; I hope your Lordship hath remembered me.  Oria. 
Faith I begin to pity him, Arrigo take her off, bear her away; say her petition is granted.  Gentlew. 
Whether do you draw me Sir? I know it is not my Lord's pleasure I should be thus used, before my business be dispatched?  Arr. 
You shall know more of that without.  Oria. 
Unbind him Ladies, but before he go, this he shall promise; for the love I bear to our own sex, I would have them still hated by thee, and enjoin thee as a punishment, never hereafter willingly to come in the presence or fight of any woman, nor never to seek wrongfully the public disgrace of any.  Gond. 
'tis that I would have sworn, and do: when I meddle with them, for their good, or their bad; may Time call back this day again, and when I come in their companies, may I catch the pox, by their breath, and have no other pleasure for it.  Duke. 
Ye are too merciful.  Oria. 
My Lord, I show'd my sex the better.  Count. 
All is overblown Sister, you're like to have a fair night of it, and a Prince in your arms: let's go my Lord.  Duke. 
Thus through the doubtful Streams of joy and True love doth wade, and finds at last relief.  Exeunt Omnes.   
FINIS.  

(virtue, teach men thoughts, him wait our