Actus
2.
Scenus
1.
Enter
Spungins
and
Hercius
.
Spun.
Turne
Christian
,
wud
he
that
first
tempted
mee
to
haue
my
shooes
walke
vpon
Christian
soles
,
had
turn'd
me
into
a
Capon
,
for
I
am
sure
now
the
stones
of
all
my
pleasure
in
this
fleshly
life
are
cut
off
.
Hir.
So
then
,
if
any
Coxecombe
has
a
galloping
desire
to
ride
,
heres
a
Gelding
,
if
he
can
but
sit
him
.
Spun.
I
kicke
for
all
that
like
a
horse
,
looke
else
.
Hir.
But
thats
a
kickish
Iade
,
fellow
Spungins
,
haue
not
I
as
much
cause
to
complaine
as
thou
hast
?
When
I
was
a
Pagan
,
there
was
an
Infidell
Punke
of
mine
,
would
haue
let
me
come
vpon
trust
for
my
coruetting
,
a
pox
of
your
christian
Coxatrices
,
they
cry
like
Poulterers
wiues
,
no
money
,
no
Cony
.
Spun.
Bacchus
,
the
God
of
brew'd
Wine
and
Sugar
,
grand
Patron
of
rob
pots
,
vpsie-freesie-tiplers
,
and
super-naculam
takers
;
this
Bacchus
,
who
is
head
warden
of
Vintners
Hall
,
Ale-cunner
,
Maior
of
all
Victualing
houses
,
the
sole
liquid
Benefactor
to
bawdy-houses
,
Lanze
prezado
to
red
Noses
,
and
inuincible
Adelantado
ouer
the
Armado
of
pimpled
,
deepe
scarletted
,
rubified
,
and
carbuncled
faces
.
Her.
What
of
all
this
?
Spun.
This
boone
Bacchanalion
stinker
,
did
I
make
legges
to
.
Hirc.
Scuruy
ones
,
when
thou
wert
drunke
.
Spung.
There
is
no
danger
of
loosing
a
man
yeares
by
making
these
Indures
,
he
that
will
not
now
and
then
bee
Calabingo
,
is
worse
then
a
Calamosthe
:
when
I
was
a
Pagan
and
kneeld
to
this
Bachhus
,
I
durst
out-drinke
a
Lord
,
but
your
Christian
Lords
out-boule
me
:
I
was
in
hope
to
leade
a
sober
life
,
when
I
was
conuerted
,
but
now
amongst
the
Christians
,
I
can
no
sooner
stagger
out
of
one
Alhouse
but
I
reele
into
another
:
they
haue
whole
streets
of
nothing
but
drinking
roomes
,
and
drabbing
chambers
,
iumbled
together
.
Hirc.
Bawdy
Priapus
,
the
first
schoolemaister
that
taught
Butchers
how
to
sticke
pricks
in
flesh
,
and
make
it
swell
,
thou
knowest
was
the
onely
Ningle
that
I
cared
for
vnder
the
Moone
,
but
since
I
left
him
,
to
follow
a
scuruy
Lady
,
what
with
her
praying
and
our
fasting
,
if
now
I
come
to
a
wench
&
offer
to
vse
her
any
thing
hardly
(
celling
her
being
a
Christian
she
must
endure
)
she
presently
handles
me
as
if
I
were
a
cloue
,
&
cleaues
me
with
disdaine
as
if
I
were
a
Calues
head
.
Spung.
I
see
no
remedy
fellow
Hircius
,
but
that
thou
and
I
must
be
halfe
Pagans
and
halfe
Christians
,
for
we
know
very
fooles
that
are
Christians
.
Hirc.
Right
,
the
quarters
of
Christians
are
good
for
not
thing
but
to
feed
Crowes
.
Spung.
True
,
Christian
Brokers
,
thou
knowest
,
are
made
vp
of
the
quarters
of
Christians
,
parboyle
one
of
these
rogues
and
he
is
not
meate
for
a
dog
:
no
,
no
,
I
am
resolued
to
haue
an
Infidels
heart
,
though
in
shew
I
carry
a
Christians
face
.
Hir.
Thy
Last
shall
serue
my
foote
,
so
will
I
.
Spun.
Our
whimpring
Lady
and
Mistresse
sent
mee
with
two
great
baskets
full
of
Beefe
,
Mutton
,
Veale
and
Goose
fellow
Hircius
.
Hir.
And
Woodcocke
fellow
Spungins
.
Spung.
Vpon
the
poore
leane
Asse
fellow
,
on
which
I
ride
,
to
all
the
Almswomen
:
what
thinkst
thou
I
hue
done
with
all
this
good
cheere
.
Hir.
Eate
it
,
and
be
choakt
else
.
Spun.
Wud
my
Asse
,
basket
and
all
were
in
thy
maw
if
I
did
:
no
,
as
I
am
a
demy
Pagan
,
I
sold
the
victuals
,
and
coynd
the
mony
into
pottle
pots
of
wine
.
Hir.
Therein
thou
shewdst
thy selfe
a
perfect
demy-Christian
too
,
to
let
the
poore
beg
,
starue
and
hang
,
or
dye
a
the
pip
:
our
puling
snotty-nose
Lady
sent
me
out
likewise
with
a
purse
of
mony
,
to
releeue
and
release
prisoners
:
did
I
so
thinke
you
?
Spun.
Wud
thy
ribs
were
turnd
into
grates
of
iron
then
.
Hir.
As
I
am
a
totall
Pagan
,
I
swore
they
should
be
hangd
first
:
for
sirra
Spungius
,
I
lay
at
my
old
ward
of
lechery
,
and
cryed
a
poxe
in
your
two-penny
wards
,
and
so
I
tooke
scuruy
common
flesh
for
the
mony
.
Spun.
And
wisely
done
,
for
our
Lady
sending
it
to
prisoners
,
had
bestowed
it
out
vpon
lowsie
knaues
,
and
thou
to
saue
that
labour
casts
it
away
vpon
rotten
whores
.
Hir.
All
my
feare
is
of
that
pinke-an-eye
Iacke-an
Apes
boy
,
her
page
.
Spnn.
As
I
am
a
Pagan
,
from
my
cod-peece
downward
that
white-fac'd
Monkie
,
frights
me
to
,
I
stole
but
a
durty
pudding
last
day
out
of
an
almsebasket
,
to
giue
my
dogge
when
he
was
hungry
,
and
the
peaking
chitface
page
hit
me
ith'
teeth
with
it
.
Hir.
With
the
durty
pudding
;
so
he
did
me
once
with
a
cowturd
,
which
in
knauery
I
would
haue
crumd
into
ones
porridge
,
who
was
halfe
a
Pagan
to
:
the
smug
dandiprat
smels
vs
out
whatsoeuer
we
are
doing
.
Spun.
Does
he
!
let
him
take
heede
I
proue
not
his
backe
friend
;
He
make
him
curse
his
smelling
what
I
doe
.
Hir.
Tis
my
Lady
spoyles
the
boy
,
for
he
is
euer
at
her
tayle
:
and
she's
neuer
well
but
in
his
company
.
Enter
Angelo
with
a
Booke
and
Taper
lighted
,
they
seeing
him
,
counterfeit
deuotion
.
Ange.
O!
now
your
hearts
make
ladders
of
your
eyes
In
shew
to
climbe
to
heauen
,
when
your
deuotion
Walkes
vpon
crutches
:
where
did
you
waste
your
time
When
the
religious
man
was
on
his
knees
,
Speaking
the
heauenly
languague
.
Spun.
Why
fellow
Angelo
,
we
were
speaking
in
pedlars
French
I
hope
.
Hir.
We
ha
not
bene
idle
,
take
it
vpon
my
word
.
Ange.
Haue
you
the
baskets
emptied
which
your
Lady
Sent
from
the
charitable
hands
,
to
women
That
dwell
vpon
her
pitty
?
Spun.
Emptied
em
!
yes
,
Ide
be
loth
to
haue
my
belly
so
emptie
,
yet
I'm
sure
,
I
munched
not
one
bit
of
them
neither
.
Ange.
And
went
your
money
to
the
prisoners
.
Hir.
Went
no
,
I
carryed
it
;
and
with
these
fingers
paid
it
away
.
Ang.
What
way
?
the
diuels
way
,
the
way
of
sinne
,
The
way
of
hot
damnation
,
way
of
lust
:
And
you
to
,
wash
away
the
poore
mans
bread
In
bowles
of
drunkennesse
.
Spun.
Drunkennesse
!
yes
,
yes
,
I
vse
to
bee
drunke
:
our
next
neighbours
man
called
Christopher
has
often
seene
me
drunke
,
has
he
not
?
Hir.
Or
me
giuen
so
to
the
flesh
,
my
cheekes
speake
my
doings
.
Ange.
Auant
you
theeues
,
and
hollow
hypocrites
.
Your
hearts
to
me
lie
open
like
blacke
bookes
,
And
there
I
reade
your
doings
.
Spun.
And
what
do
you
read
in
my
heart
?
Hir.
Or
in
mine
?
come
amiable
.
Angelo
,
beate
the
flint
of
your
braines
.
Spun.
And
lets
see
what
sparkes
of
wit
fly
out
,
to
kindle
your
Carebruns
.
Ang.
Your
names
euen
brand
you
,
you
are
Spurgius
cald
And
like
a
Spunge
you
sucke
vp
liquorous
wines
Till
your
soule
reeles
to
hell
.
Spun.
To
hell
!
can
any
drunkards
legs
carry
him
so
far
.
Ang.
For
blood
of
grapes
you
sold
the
widowes
food
.
And
staruing
them
,
tis
murder
,
whats
this
but
hell
.
Hircius
your
name
,
and
Goatish
is
your
nature
:
You
snatch
the
meate
out
of
the
prisoners
mouth
,
To
fatten
harlots
,
is
not
this
hell
to
,
No
Angell
,
but
the
diuell
waites
on
you
.
Spun
Shall
I
cut
his
throate
.
Hir.
No
,
better
burne
him
,
for
I
thinke
he
is
a
witch
,
but
sooth
,
soth
him
.
Spun.
Fellow
Angelo
,
true
it
is
,
that
falling
into
the
company
of
wicked
he-Christians
for
my
part
.
Hir.
And
she-ones
for
mine
,
we
haue
'em
swim
in
sholes
hard
by
.
Spun.
We
must
confesse
,
I
tooke
too
much
of
the
pot
,
and
he
of
tother
hollow
commodity
.
Hir.
Yes
indeed
,
we
layd
lill
on
both
of
vs
,
we
cousen'd
the
poore
,
but
'tis
a
comon
thing
,
many
a
one
that
counts
himselfe
a
better
Christian
then
we
two
,
has
done
it
,
by
this
light
.
Spun.
But
pray
sweet
Angelo
,
play
not
the
tell-tale
to
my
Lady
,
and
if
you
take
vs
creeping
into
any
of
these
mouseholes
of
sin
any
more
,
let
Cats
flea
off
our
skins
.
Hir.
And
put
nothing
but
the
poysond
tailes
of
Rats
into
those
skins
.
An.
Will
you
dishonor
her
sweet
charity
.
Who
sau'd
you
from
the
tree
of
death
and
shame
.
Hir.
Wud
I
were
hangd
rather
then
thus
be
told
of
my
faults
.
Spun.
She
tooke
vs
,
tis
true
,
from
the
gallowes
,
yet
I
hope
she
will
not
barre
yeomen
sprats
to
haue
their
swinge
.
An.
She
comes
,
beware
and
mend
.
enter
Doro.
Hir.
Lets
breake
his
necke
,
and
bid
him
mend
.
Dor.
Haue
you
my
messages
(
sent
to
the
poore
)
Deliuer'd
with
good
hands
,
not
robbing
them
Of
any
iot
was
theirs
.
Spun.
Rob
'em
Lady
,
I
hope
,
neither
my
fellow
nor
I
am
theeues
Hir.
Deliuerd
with
good
hands
madam
,
else
let
me
neuer
licke
my
fingers
more
when
I
eate
butterd
fish
.
Dor.
Who
cheate
the
poore
,
and
from
them
plucke
their
almes
.
Pilfer
from
Heauen
,
and
there
are
thunderbolts
From
thence
to
beate
them
euer
,
do
not
lye
,
Were
you
both
faithfull
true
distributers
?
Spun.
Lye
Madame
,
what
griefe
is
it
to
see
you
turne
Swaggerer
,
and
giue
your
poore
minded
rascally
seruants
the
lye
.
Dor.
I'm
glad
you
doe
not
,
if
those
wretched
people
Tell
you
they
pine
for
want
of
any
thing
.
Whisper
but
to
mine
eare
,
and
you
shall
furnish
them
.
Hir.
Whisper
,
nay
Lady
,
for
my
part
Ile
cry
whoope
.
Ang.
Play
no
more
Villaines
with
so
good
a
Lady
,
For
if
you
doe
—
—
—
.
Spun.
Are
we
Christians
?
Hir.
The
fowle
Feind
snap
all
Pagans
for
me
.
Ang.
Away
,
and
once
more
mend
.
Spun.
Takes
vs
for
Botchers
.
Hir.
A
patch
,
a
patch
.
Dor.
My
booke
and
Taper
.
Ang.
Heere
most
holy
Mistresse
.
Dor.
Thy
voyce
sends
forth
such
musicke
,
that
I
neuer
Was
raisht
with
a
more
celestiall
sound
,
Were
euery
seruant
in
the
world
like
thee
,
So
full
of
goodnesse
,
Angels
would
come
downe
To
dwell
with
vs
,
thy
name
is
Angelo
,
And
like
that
name
thou
art
,
get
thee
to
rest
,
Thy
youth
with
too
much
watching
is
opprest
.
Ang.
No
my
deare
Lady
,
I
could
weary
starres
,
And
force
the
wakefull
Moone
to
lose
her
eyes
By
my
late
watching
,
but
to
waite
on
you
,
When
at
your
prayers
you
kneele
before
the
Altar
,
Me thinkes
I'm
singing
with
some
Quire
in
Heauen
,
So
blest
I
hold
me
in
your
company
:
Therefore
my
most-lou'd
mistresse
do
not
bid
Your
boy
so
seruiceable
to
get
heuce
,
For
then
you
breake
his
heart
.
Dor.
Bee
nye
me
still
then
,
In
golden
letters
downe
ile
set
that
day
Which
gaue
thee
to
me
,
little
did
I
hope
To
meete
such
worlds
of
comfort
in
thy selfe
,
This
little
pretty
body
,
when
I
comming
Forth
of
the
temple
,
heard
my
begger-boy
,
My
sweete
fac'd
godly
begger-boy
,
craue
an
almes
,
Which
with
glad
hand
I
gaue
,
with
lucky
hand
,
And
when
I
tooke
thee
home
,
my
most
chast
bosome
Me thought
was
fil'd
with
no
hot
wanton
fire
,
But
with
a
holy
flame
,
mounting
since
higher
On
wings
of
Cherubines
then
did
before
.
Ang.
Proud
am
I
that
my
Ladies
modest
eye
,
So
likes
so
poore
a
seruant
.
Doro.
I
haue
offerd
Handfuls
of
gold
but
to
behold
thy
Parents
,
I
would
leaue
Kingdomes
,
were
I
Queene
of
some
,
To
dwell
with
thy
good
father
,
for
the
sonne
Betwitching
me
so
deepely
with
his
presence
,
He
that
begot
him
must
doo't
ten
times
more
,
I
pray
thee
,
my
sweete
boy
,
shew
me
thy
parents
,
Be
not
asham'd
.
Ang.
I
am
not
,
I
did
neuer
Know
who
any
mother
was
,
but
by
yon
Pallace
Fill'd
with
bright
heauenly
Courtiers
,
I
dare
assure
you
,
And
pawne
these
eyes
vpon
it
,
and
this
hand
,
My
father
is
in
Heauen
,
and
pretty
Mistresse
,
If
your
illustrious
houre
Glasse
spend
his
sand
No
worse
then
yet
it
does
,
vpon
my
life
You
and
I
both
shall
meete
my
father
there
,
And
he
shall
bid
you
welcome
.
Doro.
A
blessed
day
,
We
all
long
to
be
there
,
but
lose
the
way
.
exeunt
.
Macrinus
friend
to
Antoninus
enters
,
being
met
by
Theophslus
and
Harpax
.
Theo.
Sunne-god
of
the
day
guide
thee
Macrinus
.
Mac.
And
thee
Theophilus
.
Theo.
Gladst
thou
in
such
scorne
,
I
call
my
wish
backe
.
Mac.
I'm
in
hast
.
Theo.
One
word
,
Take
the
least
hand
of
time
vp
:
stay
.
Mac.
Be
briefe
.
Theo.
As
thought
:
I
prithee
tell
me
good
Macrinus
How
health
and
our
faire
Princesse
lay
together
This
night
,
for
you
can
tell
,
Courtiers
haue
flyes
That
buzze
all
newes
vnto
them
.
Mac.
She
slept
but
ill
.
Theo.
Double
thy
courtesie
,
how
does
Antoninus
?
Mac.
Ill
,
well
,
straight
,
crooked
,
I
know
not
how
.
Theo.
Once
more
,
Thy
head
is
full
of
Winde-mils
:
when
does
the
Princesse
Fill
a
bed
full
of
beauty
,
and
bestow
it
On
Antoninus
on
the
wedding
night
.
Mac.
I
know
not
.
Theo.
No
,
thou
art
the
Manunscript
Where
Antoninus
writes
downe
all
his
secrets
,
Honest
Macrinus
tell
me
.
Mac.
Fare
you
well
Sir
.
exit
Har.
Honesty
is
some
Fiend
,
and
frights
him
hence
,
A
many
Courtiers
loue
it
not
.
Theo.
What
peece
Of
this
State-wheele
(
which
winds
vp
Antoninus
)
Is
broke
,
it
runnes
so
iarringly
?
the
Man
is
from
himselfe
deuided
:
Oh
thou
the
eye
By
which
I
wonders
see
,
tell
me
my
Harpax
,
What
gad
flye
tickles
so
this
Macrinus
,
That
vp
.
flinging
thy
tayle
,
he
breakes
thus
from
me
,
Har.
Oh
Sir
,
his
braine-panne
is
a
bed
of
Snakes
,
Whose
stings
shoote
through
his
eye-balls
,
whose
poysonous
spawne
Ingenders
such
a
fry
of
speckled
villanies
,
That
valesse
charmes
more
strong
then
Adamant
Bee
vs'd
,
the
Romane
Angels
wings
shall
melt
,
And
Caesars
Diadem
be
from
his
head
Spurn'd
by
base
fecte
,
the
Lawrell
which
he
weares
(
Returning
victor
)
be
inforc't
to
kisse
That
which
it
hates
(
the
fire
.
)
And
can
this
Ram
,
This
Antoninus-Engine
,
being
made
ready
To
so
much
mischiefe
,
keepe
a
steady
motion
,
His
eyes
and
feete
you
see
giue
strange
assaults
.
The.
I'm
turnd
a
marble
Statue
at
thy
language
,
Which
printed
is
in
such
crab'd
Charracters
,
It
puzzles
all
my
reading
,
what
(
ith
name
Of
Pluto
)
now
is
hatching
.
Har.
This
Macrinus
The
time
is
,
vpon
which
loue
errands
runne
Twixt
Antoninus
and
that
ghost
of
women
,
The
bloudlesse
Dorothaea
,
who
in
prayer
And
meditation
(
mocking
all
your
gods
)
Drinkes
vp
her
ruby
colour
,
yet
Antoninus
Playes
the
Endymion
to
this
pale
fac'd
Moone
,
Courts
her
,
seekes
to
catch
her
eyes
.
Theo.
And
what
of
this
?
Har.
These
are
but
creeping
Billowes
Not
got
to
shore
yet
,
but
if
Dorothaea
Fall
on
his
bosome
,
and
be
fir'd
with
loue
,
(
Your
coldest
women
do
so
)
had
you
ynck
Brew'd
from
the
infernall
Stix
,
and
not
all
that
blacknesse
Can
make
a
thing
so
foule
,
as
the
Dishonours
,
Disgraces
,
Buffettings
,
and
most
base
affronts
Vpon
the
bright
Artemia
,
Starre
of
Court
,
Great
Caesars
Daughter
.
Theo.
I
now
conster
thee
.
Har.
Nay
more
,
a
Firmament
of
Clouds
being
fild
With
Iouet
Artillery
,
shot
downe
at
once
To
pash
your
Gods
in
peeces
,
cannot
giue
With
all
those
Thunderbots
so
deepe
a
blow
To
the
Religion
there
,
and
Pagan
lore
As
this
;
for
Dorothea
hates
your
gods
,
And
if
she
once
blast
Antoninus
soule
,
Making
it
foule
like
hers
:
Oh
the
example
—
Theo.
Eates
through
Cesareas
heart
,
like
liquid
poison
Haue
I
inuented
tortures
to
tente
Christians
,
To
see
but
which
,
could
all
that
sceles
Hels
torments
Haue
leaue
to
stand
aloofe
heere
on
earths
stage
,
They
would
be
mad
till
they
againe
descended
,
Holding
the
paines
most
horrid
,
of
such
soules
,
May-games
to
those
of
mine
,
has
this
my
hand
Set
downe
a
Christians
execution
In
such
dire
postures
,
that
the
very
hangman
Fell
at
my
foote
dead
hearing
but
their
figures
,
And
shall
Macrinus
and
his
fellow
Masquer
Strangle
me
in
a
dance
.
Har.
No
,
on
,
I
do
hug
thee
,
For
drilling
thy
quick
braines
in
this
rich
plot
Of
tortures
gainst
these
Christians
:
on
,
I
hug
thee
.
Theo.
Both
hug
and
holy
me
,
to
this
Dorotheae
Flye
thou
and
I
in
thunder
.
Har.
Not
for
Kingdomes
Pil'd
vpon
Kingdomes
,
theres
a
villaine
Page
Waites
on
her
,
whom
I
would
not
for
the
world
Hold
trafficke
with
,
I
do
so
hate
his
sight
,
That
should
I
looke
on
him
I
must
sinke
downe
.
Theo.
I
will
not
loose
thee
then
,
her
to
confound
,
None
but
this
head
with
glories
shall
be
crown'd
.
Har.
Oh
,
mine
owne
as
I
would
wish
thee
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Dorothea
,
Macrinus
,
Angelo
.
Dor.
My
trusty
Angelo
,
with
that
curious
eye
Of
thine
,
which
euer
waites
vpon
my
businesse
,
I
prithee
watch
those
my
still-negligent
seruants
That
they
performe
my
willin
whats
enioyn'd
them
To'th
good
of
others
,
else
will
you
find
them
flyes
Not
lying
still
,
yet
in
them
no
good
lyes
:
Be
carefull
deare
Boy
.
Ang.
Yes
,
my
sweetest
Mistresse
.
exit
.
Dor.
Now
Sir
,
you
may
goe
on
.
Mac.
I
then
must
study
,
A
new
Arithmatike
,
to
summe
vp
the
vertues
Which
Antoninus
gracefully
become
,
There
is
in
him
so
much
man
,
so
much
goodnesse
,
So
much
of
honour
,
and
of
all
things
else
Which
makes
our
being
excellent
,
that
from
his
store
He
can
enough
lend
others
,
yet
much
taken
from
him
,
The
want
shall
be
as
little
as
when
Seas
Lend
from
their
bounty
to
fill
vp
the
poorenesse
Of
needy
Riuers
.
Dor.
Sir
,
he
is
more
indebted
,
to
you
for
praise
,
then
you
to
him
that
owes
it
.
Ma
If
Queens
viewing
his
presents
,
paid
to
the
whitenes
Of
your
chast
hand
alone
,
should
be
ambitious
,
But
to
be
parted
in
their
numerous
shares
,
This
he
counts
nothing
:
could
you
see
maine
Armies
Make
battalles
in
the
quarrell
of
his
vallour
,
That
tis
best
,
the
truest
,
this
were
nothing
,
The
greatnesse
of
his
State
,
his
fathers
voyce
And
arme
,
owing
Cesarea
,
he
neuer
boasts
of
The
Sun-beames
,
which
the
Emperor
throwes
vpon
him
,
Shine
there
but
as
in
water
,
and
guild
him
Not
with
one
spot
of
pride
,
no
dearest
beauty
,
All
these
heap'd
vp
together
in
one
scale
,
Cannot
weigh
downe
the
loue
he
beares
to
you
Being
put
into
the
other
.
Dor.
Could
gold
buy
you
To
speake
thus
for
your
friend
,
you
Sir
are
worthy
Of
more
then
I
will
number
,
and
this
your
language
Hath
power
to
win
vpon
another
woman
,
Top
of
whose
heart
,
the
feathers
of
this
World
Are
gaily
stuck
,
but
all
which
first
you
named
,
And
now
this
last
,
his
loue
to
me
are
nothing
,
Mac.
You
make
me
a
sad
Messenger
.
enter
Antoninus
.
But
him selfe
Being
come
in
person
,
shall
I
hope
heare
from
you
Musicke
more
pleasing
.
Ant.
Has
your
eare
Macrinus
Heard
none
then
?
Mac.
None
I
like
.
Ant.
But
can
there
be
In
such
a
noble
Casker
,
wherein
lies
Beauty
and
chastity
in
their
full
perfections
,
A
rocky
heart
killing
with
cruelty
A
life
thats
prostrated
beneath
your
feete
?
Dor.
I
am
guilty
of
a
shame
I
yet
neuer
knew
,
Thus
to
hold
parley
with
you
,
pray
Sir
pardon
.
Ant.
Good
sweetenesse
,
you
now
haue
it
,
and
shall
goe
,
Be
but
so
mercifull
,
before
your
wounding
me
With
such
a
mortall
weapon
,
as
Farewell
,
To
let
me
murmure
to
your
Virgin
care
,
What
I
was
loath
to
lay
on
any
tongue
But
this
mine
owne
.
Dor.
If
one
immodest
accent
Flye
out
,
I
hate
you
euerlastingly
.
Ant.
My
true
loue
dares
not
doe
it
.
Mac.
Hermes
inspire
thee
.
They
whispering
below
,
enter
aboue
Sapritius
,
father
to
Antoninus
,
&
Governor
of
Cesaria
,
with
him
Artemia
the
Princesse
,
Theophilies
,
Spungius
and
Hercins
.
Spun.
See
you
,
doe
you
see
,
our
worke
is
done
,
the
fish
you
angle
for
is
nibling
at
the
hooke
,
and
therefore
vntrusse
the
Codpeece
point
of
our
reward
,
no
matter
if
the
breeches
of
conscience
fall
about
our
heeles
.
The.
The
gold
you
earne
is
heere
,
dam
vp
your
mouthes
,
and
no
words
of
it
.
Her.
No
,
nor
no
words
from
you
of
too
much
damming
neither
;
I
know
women
sell
themselues
dayly
,
and
are
hacknied
out
for
siluer
,
why
may
not
we
then
betray
a
scuruy
mistresse
for
gold
.
Spun.
She
sau'd
vs
from
the
Gallowes
,
and
only
to
keepe
one
Prouerbe
from
breaking
his
necke
,
weele
hang
her
.
The.
Tis
well
done
,
go
go
,
yeare
my
fine
white
boyes
.
Spun.
If
your
red
boyes
,
tis
well
knowne
,
more
ilfauor'd
faces
then
ours
are
painted
.
Sap.
Those
fellowes
trouble
vs
.
Theo.
Away
,
away
.
Her.
I
to
my
sweete
placket
.
Spun.
And
I
to
my
full
pot
.
exeunt
.
Ant.
Come
,
let
me
tune
you
,
glaze
not
thus
your
eyes
With
selfe-loue
of
a
vowed
Virginity
,
Make
euery
man
your
glasse
,
you
see
our
Sex
Doe
neuer
murder
propagation
,
We
all
desire
your
sweete
society
,
And
if
you
barre
me
from
it
,
you
doe
kill
me
,
And
of
my
bloud
are
guilty
.
Art.
O
base
Villaine
.
Sap.
Bridle
your
rage
sweete
Princesse
.
Ant.
Could
not
my
fortunes
(
Rear'd
higher
farre
then
yours
)
be
worthy
of
you
,
Me thinkes
my
deare
affection
makes
you
mine
.
Dor.
Sir
,
for
your
fortunes
were
they
mines
of
gold
,
He
that
I
loue
is
richer
;
and
for
worth
,
You
are
to
him
lower
then
any
slaue
Is
to
a
Monarch
.
Sap.
So
insolent
,
base
Christian
.
Dor.
Can
I
,
with
wearing
out
my
knees
before
him
Get
you
but
be
his
seruant
,
you
shall
boast
y'are
equall
to
a
King
.
Sap.
Confusion
on
thee
,
For
playing
thus
the
lying
Sorceresse
.
Ant.
Your
mockes
are
great
ones
,
none
beneath
the
Sun
Will
I
be
seruant
too
:
on
my
knees
I
beg
it
,
Pitty
me
wondrous
maid
.
Sap.
I
curse
thy
basenesse
.
Theo.
Listen
to
more
.
Dor.
Oh
kneele
not
Sir
to
me
.
Ant.
This
Knee
is
Embleme
of
an
humbled
heart
,
That
heart
which
tortur'd
is
with
your
disdaine
,
Iustly
for
scorning
others
;
euen
this
heart
,
To
which
for
pitty
such
a
Princesse
sues
,
As
in
her
hand
offers
me
all
the
World
,
Great
Caesars
daughter
.
Artem.
Slaue
thou
lyest
.
Anton.
Yet
this
Is
adamant
to
her
,
that
melts
to
you
In
drops
of
blood
.
Theoph.
A
Very
dogge
.
Anton.
Perhaps
Tis
my
religion
makes
you
knit
the
brow
,
Yet
be
you
mine
,
and
euer
be
your
owne
,
I
nere
will
screw
your
conscience
from
that
power
On
which
you
Christians
leane
.
Sap.
I
can
no
longer
,
Fret
out
my
life
with
weeping
at
thee
villaine
;
sirra
,
Would
when
I
got
thee
,
the
high
thunder
hand
Had
strucke
thee
in
the
wombe
.
Mac.
We
are
betrayde
.
Arte.
Is
that
your
I
doll
,
traitor
,
which
thou
kneelst
to
,
Trampling
vpon
my
beauty
?
Theoph.
Sirra
,
bandog
,
Wilt
thou
in
peeces
teare
,
our
Iupiter
,
For
her
?
our
Mars
,
for
her
?
our
Sol
,
for
her
?
A
whore
,
a
hel-hound
,
in
this
globe
of
braines
Where
a
whole
world
of
tortures
for
such
furies
Haue
fought
as
in
a
Chaos
)
which
should
exceed
,
These
nailes
shall
grubbing
lye
,
from
scull
to
scull
,
To
finde
one
horrider
,
then
all
,
for
you
,
You
three
.
Artem.
Threaten
not
,
but
strike
,
quicke
vengeance
flies
Into
thy
bosome
,
caitife
:
here
all
loues
dies
.
exeunt
.
An.
O
I
am
thunder-strucke
!
Wee
are
both
ore
whelm'd
.
Mac.
With
one
high
raging
billow
.
Doro.
You
a
souldier
,
And
sinke
beneath
the
violence
of
a
woman
?
An.
A
woman
!
a
wrongd
Princesse
:
from
such
a
starre
Blazing
with
fires
of
hate
,
what
can
be
look'd
for
But
tragicall
euents
?
my
life
is
now
The
subiect
of
her
tyranny
.
Doro.
That
feare
,
is
base
,
Of
death
,
when
that
death
doth
but
life
displace
Out
of
her
house
of
earth
;
you
onely
dread
The
stroke
,
and
not
what
followes
when
you
are
dead
,
There's
the
great
feare
indeed
:
come
,
let
your
eye
,
Dwell
where
mine
doe
,
youle
scorne
their
tyrannies
.
Enter
below
,
Artemia
,
Sapritius
,
Theophilus
a
guard
.
Angelo
comes
and
is
close
by
Dorothea
.
Artem.
My
fathers
nerues
put
vigour
in
mine
arme
,
And
I
his
strength
must
vse
;
because
I
once
Shed
beames
of
fauour
on
thee
,
and
with
the
Lyon
Playd
with
thee
gently
when
thou
strokst
my
heart
,
He
not
insult
on
a
base
humbled
prey
,
By
lingring
out
thy
terrors
,
but
with
one
frowne
Kill
thee
:
hence
with
'hem
to
execution
.
Seize
him
,
but
let
euen
death
it selfe
be
weary
In
torturing
her
:
He
change
those
smiles
to
shreekes
,
Giue
the
foole
what
she
is
proud
of
(
martyrdome
)
In
peeces
racke
that
Bawd
to
:
Sap.
Albeit
the
reuerence
I
owe
our
gods
and
you
,
are
in
my
bosome
Torrents
so
strong
,
that
pitty
quite
lies
drownd
From
sauing
this
yong
man
,
yet
when
I
see
What
face
death
giues
him
,
and
that
a
thing
within
me
,
Sayes
'tis
my
sonne
,
I'am
forc'd
to
be
a
man
,
And
grow
fond
of
his
life
,
which
thus
I
beg
.
Artem.
And
I
deny
.
Anton.
Sir
you
dishonour
me
,
To
sue
for
that
which
I
disclayme
to
haue
,
I
shall
more
glory
in
my
sufferings
gaine
,
Then
you
in
giuing
iudgement
,
since
I
offer
My
blood
vp
to
your
anger
:
nor
do
I
kneele
To
keepe
a
wretched
life
of
mine
from
ruine
:
Preserue
this
temple
(
builded
faire
as
your
is
)
And
Caesar
neuer
went
in
greater
triumph
Then
I
shall
to
the
scaffold
.
Artem.
Are
you
so
braue
Sir
,
Set
forward
to
his
triumph
,
and
let
those
two
Go
cursing
along
with
him
.
Doro.
No
,
but
pittying
,
(
For
my
part
,
I
)
that
you
loose
ten
times
more
By
torturing
me
,
than
I
that
dare
your
tortures
,
Through
all
the
army
of
my
sinnes
,
I
haue
euen
Lobord
to
breake
,
and
cope
with
death
to
th'face
;
The
visage
of
a
hangman
frights
not
me
;
The
sight
of
whips
,
rackes
,
gibbets
,
axes
,
fires
Are
scaffoldings
,
by
which
my
soule
climbes
vp
To
an
Eternall
habitation
.
Theo.
Caesars
imperiall
daughter
,
heare
me
speake
,
Let
not
this
Christian
Thing
,
in
this
her
pagentry
Of
prowd
deriding
,
both
our
gods
and
Caesar
,
Build
to
her selfe
a
kingdome
in
her
death
Going
laughing
from
vs
.
No
,
her
bitterest
torment
Shall
be
to
seele
her
constancy
beaten
downe
,
The
brauery
of
her
resolution
lie
Battered
by
the
argument
,
into
such
peeces
,
That
she
agen
shall
(
on
her
belly
)
creepe
To
kisse
the
pauements
of
our
Panim
gode
.
Arte.
How
to
be
done
.
Theo.
He
send
my
daughers
to
her
,
And
they
shall
turne
her
rocky
faith
to
waxe
,
Else
spit
at
me
,
let
me
be
made
your
slaue
,
And
meete
no
Romans
but
a
villains
graue
.
Arte.
Thy
prisoner
let
her
be
then
:
and
Sapritius
Your
sonne
,
and
that
be
yours
:
death
shall
be
sent
To
him
that
suffers
them
by
voyce
or
letters
To
greet
each
other
.
Rifle
her
estate
,
Christians
to
beggery
brought
grow
desperate
.
Dor.
Still
on
the
Bread
of
pouerty
let
me
feed
.
exeunt
.
Ang.
O
my
admired
mistresse
;
quench
not
out
The
holy
fires
within
you
,
though
temptations
Showre
downe
vpon
you
:
claspe
thine
armour
on
,
Fight
well
and
thou
shalt
see
,
after
these
warres
Thy
head
weare
Sun
beames
,
and
thy
feet
touch
starres
.
Enter
Hircius
and
Spungius
.
Hir.
How
now
Angelo
how
ist
?
how
ist
?
what
thred
spins
That
whore
Fortune
vpon
her
wheele
now
.
Spun.
Comesta
,
comesta
poore
knaue
.
Hir.
Com
a
porte
von
,
com
a
porte
von
,
my
petite
garsoone
Spun.
Me
partha
wee
Comrade
,
my
halfe
inch
of
mans
Flesh
,
how
run
the
dice
of
this
cheating
world
,
ha
?
Ange.
Too
well
on
your
sides
,
you
are
hid
in
gold
Ore
head
and
eares
.
Hir.
We
thanke
our
fates
,
the
signe
of
the
gingle-boyes
hangs
at
the
doores
of
our
pockets
.
Spun.
Who
wud
thinke
that
we
comming
forth
of
the
arse
,
as
it
were
,
or
fag
end
of
the
world
,
should
yet
see
the
golden
age
,
when
so
little
siluer
is
stirring
.
Hir.
Nay
who
can
say
any
citizen
is
an
Asse
,
for
lading
his
owne
backe
,
with
money
,
till
his
soule
crackes
agen
,
onely
to
leaue
his
sonne
like
a
gilded
coxccombe
behinde
him
?
will
not
any
foole
take
me
for
a
wiseman
now
,
seeing
me
draw
out
of
the
pit
of
my
treasury
,
this
little
god
with
his
belly
full
of
gold
.
Spun.
And
this
full
of
the
same
meate
out
of
my
ambrey
An.
That
gold
will
melt
to
poyson
.
Spun.
Poyson
,
wudit
wud
,
whole
pintes
for
healths
shall
downe
my
throate
.
Hir.
Gold
poyson
!
there's
neuer
a
she-thrasher
in
Casarea
that
liues
on
the
flaile
of
money
will
call
it
so
.
Ang.
Like
slaues
you
sold
your
soules
for
golden
drosse
,
Bewitching
her
to
death
,
who
stept
betweene
You
,
and
the
gallowes
.
Spun.
Twas
an
easie
matter
to
saue
vs
,
she
being
so
well
backt
.
Hir.
The
gallowes
and
we
fell
out
,
so
she
did
but
part
vs
Ang.
The
misery
of
that
mistresse
is
mine
owne
,
She
beggerd
,
I
left
wretched
.
Hir.
I
can
but
let
my
Nose
drop
in
sorrow
with
wet
eyes
for
her
.
Spun.
The
petticote
of
her
estate
is
vnlac'd
I
confesse
.
Hir.
Yes
,
&
the
smocke
of
her
charity
is
now
all
to
peeces
An.
For
loue
you
beare
to
her
,
for
some
good
turnes
Done
you
by
me
,
giue
me
one
peece
of
siluer
.
Hir.
How
la
peece
of
siluer
!
if
thou
wert
an
Angell
of
gold
I
would
not
put
thee
into
white
money
,
vnlesse
I
weigh'd
thee
,
and
I
weigh
thee
not
a
rush
.
Spun.
A
peece
of
siluer
!
I
neuer
had
but
two
calues
in
my
life
,
and
those
my
mother
left
me
;
Ile
rather
part
from
the
fat
of
them
,
then
from
a
mustard-tokens
worth
of
Argent
.
Hir.
And
so
sweet
Nit
we
crawle
from
thee
.
Spun.
Adieu
,
demi-dandiprat
,
adieu
An.
Stay
one
word
yet
,
you
now
are
full
of
gold
.
Hir.
Ide
be
sorry
my
dog
were
so
full
of
the
poxe
.
Spun.
Or
any
Sow
of
mine
of
the
meazles
either
.
Ang.
Go
,
go
,
y'are
beggers
both
,
you
are
not
worth
That
leather
on
your
feete
.
Hir.
Away
,
away
boy
.
Spun.
Page
you
do
nothing
but
set
patches
on
the
soles
of
your
iests
.
Ang.
I'am
glad
I
tryde
your
loue
,
which
see
I
want
not
,
So
long
as
this
is
full
.
Both
.
And
so
long
as
this
.
—
so
long
as
this
.
Hir.
Spungius
y'are
a
picke-pocket
.
Spun.
Horcius
thou
hast
nimb'd
-
.
so
long
as
,
not
so
much
money
is
left
as
will
buy
a
louse
.
Hir.
Th'art
a
thiese
,
and
thou
lyest
in
that
gut
through
which
thy
wine
runs
,
if
thou
denyest
it
.
Spun.
Thou
lyest
deeper
then
the
bottome
of
mine
enraged
pocket
,
if
thou
affrontst
it
.
Ang.
No
blowes
,
no
bitter
language
,
all
your
gold
gone
.
Spun.
Can
the
diuell
creepe
into
ones
breeches
?
Hir
Yes
,
if
his
hornes
once
get
into
the
codpeece
,
Ang.
Come
,
sigh
not
,
I
so
little
am
in
loue
With
that
whose
losse
kils
you
,
that
see
tis
yours
,
All
yours
,
deuide
the
heape
in
equall
share
,
So
you
will
goe
along
with
me
to
prison
,
And
in
our
mistresse
sorrowes
beare
a
part
:
Say
,
will
you
?
Both
.
Will
we
?
Spun.
If
she
were
going
to
hanging
,
no
gallowes
should
part
vs
.
Hir.
Lets
both
be
turnd
into
a
rope
of
Onyons
if
we
do
Ang.
follow
me
then
,
repaire
your
bad
deeds
past
,
Happy
are
men
when
their
best
dayes
are
last
,
Spun.
True
master
Angele
,
pray
sir
leade
the
way
.
exit
Au
Hir.
Let
him
leade
that
way
,
but
follow
thou
me
this
way
.
Spun.
I
liue
in
a
Iayle
.
Hir.
A
way
and
shift
for
our selues
,
sheele
do
wel
enough
there
,
for
prisoners
are
more
hungry
after
mutton
,
then
Catchpoles
after
prisoners
.
Spun.
Let
her
starue
then
if
a
whole
Iayle
will
not
fill
her
belly
.
Exeunt
Finis
Actus
secundi
.
Actus
3.
Scenus
1.
Enter
Sapritius
,
Theophilus
,
Priest
,
Caliste
,
Christeta
.
Sapritius
.
SIcke
to
the
death
I
feare
.
Theophilus
.
I
meete
your
sorrow
,
With
my
true
feeling
of
it
.
Sap.
She's
a
Witch
,
A
sorceresse
Theophilus
,
my
sonne
Is
charm'd
by
her
enticing
eyes
,
and
like
An
image
made
of
waxe
,
her
beames
of
beauty
Melt
him
to
nothing
;
all
my
hopes
in
him
.
And
all
his
gotten
honours
finde
their
graue
In
his
strange
dotage
on
her
.
Would
when
first
He
saw
and
lou'd
her
,
that
the
earth
had
opend
And
swallowd
both
aliue
.
Theo.
There's
hope
left
yet
.
Sap.
Not
any
,
though
the
Princesse
were
appeasd
,
All
title
in
her
loue
surrenderd
vp
,
Yet
this
coy
Christian
,
is
so
transported
With
her
religion
,
that
vnlesse
my
sonne
(
But
let
him
perish
first
)
drinke
the
same
potion
And
be
of
her
beleefe
,
sheele
not
vouchsafe
To
be
his
lawfull
wife
.
Priest
but
once
remou'd
From
her
opinion
,
as
I
rest
assur'd
,
The
reason
of
these
holy
maydes
will
win
her
,
Youle
finde
her
tractable
,
to
any
thing
For
your
content
or
his
.
Theo.
If
she
refuse
it
,
The
Stygian
dampes
breeding
infectious
ayres
,
The
Mandrakes
shreekes
,
or
Basiliks
killing
eye
,
The
dreadfull
lightning
that
does
crush
the
bones
And
neuer
singe
the
skin
,
shall
not
appeare
Lesse
fatall
to
her
,
then
my
zeale
made
hot
With
loue
vnto
my
gods
;
I
haue
deferd
it
In
hope
to
draw
backe
this
Apostata
,
Which
will
be
greater
honour
then
her
death
Vnto
her
fathers
faith
,
and
to
that
end
Haue
brought
my
daughters
hither
.
Caliste
.
And
we
doubt
not
To
do
what
you
desire
.
Sap.
Let
her
be
sent
for
,
Prosper
in
your
good
worke
,
and
were
I
not
To
attend
the
Princesse
,
I
would
see
and
heare
How
you
succeede
.
Theo.
I
am
commanded
to
,
Ile
beare
you
company
.
Sap.
Giue
them
your
Ring
To
leade
her
as
in
triumph
if
they
win
her
Before
her
highnesse
.
exit
Sap.
Theo.
Spare
no
promises
,
Perswasions
,
or
threats
I
do
coniure
you
,
If
you
preuayle
,
'tis
the
most
glorious
worke
You
euer
vndertooke
.
Enter
Dorothea
and
Angelo
.
Priest
.
She
comes
.
Theoph.
We
leaue
you
.
Be
constant
and
be
carefull
.
exeunt
Theo.
Priest
.
Calaste
.
We
are
sorry
To
meete
you
vnder
guard
.
Dorothea
.
But
I
more
greeu'd
You
are
at
libertie
,
so
well
I
loue
you
,
That
I
could
wish
,
for
such
a
cause
as
mine
You
were
my
fellow
prisoners
:
prethee
Angels
Reach
vs
some
chaires
,
please
you
sit
?
Caliste
.
We
thanke
you
,
Our
visite
is
for
loue
,
loue
to
your
safetie
.
Christ.
Our
conference
must
be
priuate
,
pray
you
therefore
Command
your
boy
to
leaue
vs
.
Dorothea
.
You
may
trust
him
With
any
secret
that
concernes
my
life
,
Falshood
and
he
are
strangers
,
had
you
Ladies
Bene
blest
with
such
a
seruant
,
you
had
neuer
Forsooke
that
way
(
your
iourney
euen
halfe
ended
)
That
leade
to
ioyes
eternall
.
In
the
place
Of
loose
lasciuious
mirth
,
he
would
haue
stird
you
To
holy
meditations
,
and
so
farre
He
is
from
flattery
,
that
he
would
haue
told
you
,
Your
pride
being
at
the
height
,
how
miserable
And
wretched
things
you
were
,
that
for
an
howre
Of
pleasure
here
,
haue
made
a
desperate
sale
Of
all
your
right
in
happinesse
hereafter
.
He
must
not
leaue
me
,
without
him
I
fall
,
In
this
life
he
is
my
seruant
,
in
the
other
A
wished
companion
An.
Tis
not
in
the
diuell
,
Nor
all
his
wicked
arts
to
shake
such
goodnesse
.
Doro.
But
you
were
speaking
Lady
.
Caliste
.
As
a
friend
And
louer
of
your
safety
,
and
I
pray
you
So
to
receiue
it
;
and
if
you
remember
How
neere
in
loue
our
parents
were
,
that
we
Eu'n
from
the
cradle
were
brought
vp
together
.
Our
amitie
encreasing
with
our
yeeres
,
We
cannot
stand
suspected
.
Doro.
To
the
purpose
.
Cal.
We
come
then
as
good
Angels
Dorothea
,
To
make
you
happy
,
and
the
meanes
so
easie
,
That
be
not
you
an
enemy
to
your selfe
,
Already
you
enioy
it
.
Christeta.
Looke
on
vs
Ruin'd
as
you
are
once
,
and
brought
vnto
it
By
your
perswasion
.
Cal.
But
what
follow'd
Lady
,
Leauing
those
blessings
which
our
gods
giues
freely
,
And
showr'd
vpon
vs
with
a
prodigall
hand
,
As
to
be
noble
borne
,
youth
,
beauty
,
wealth
,
And
the
free
vse
of
these
without
controule
,
Checke
,
curbe
,
or
stop
,
(
such
is
our
Lawes
indulgence
)
All
happinesse
forsooke
vs
,
bonds
and
fetters
For
amorous
Twins
,
the
Racke
and
Hangmans
whips
In
place
of
choise
delights
,
our
Parents
curses
Instead
of
blessings
,
scorne
neglect
,
contempt
Fell
thick
vpon
vs
.
Chris.
This
consider'd
wisely
,
We
made
a
faire
retreate
,
and
reconcil'd
To
our
forsaken
gods
,
we
liue
againe
In
all
prosperity
.
Caliste
.
By
our
example
Bequeathing
misery
to
such
as
loue
it
,
Learne
to
be
happy
,
the
Christian
yokes
too
heauy
For
such
a
dainty
necke
,
it
was
fram'd
rather
To
be
the
shrine
of
Venus
,
or
a
Pillar
More
precious
then
Christall
to
support
Our
Cupids
Image
,
our
Religion
Lady
Is
but
a
varied
pleasure
,
yours
a
toyle
Slaues
would
shrinke
vnder
.
Doro.
Haue
you
not
clouen
feetel
are
you
not
diuels
?
Dare
any
say
so
much
,
or
dare
I
heare
it
Without
a
vertuous
and
religious
anger
?
Now
to
put
on
a
Virgin
modesty
,
Or
maiden
silence
,
when
his
power
is
question'd
That
is
omnipotent
,
were
a
greater
crime
,
Then
in
a
bad
cause
to
be
impudent
.
Your
Gods
,
your
temples
,
brothell
houses
rather
,
Or
wicked
actions
of
the
worst
of
men
Pursu'd
and
practis'd
,
your
religious
rites
,
O
call
them
rather
iugling
mysteries
,
The
baytes
and
nets
of
hell
,
your
soules
the
prey
For
which
the
Diuell
angles
,
your
false
pleasures
A
steepe
descent
by
which
you
headlong
fall
Into
eternall
torments
.
Cal.
Doe
not
tempt
Our
powerfull
gods
.
Dor.
Which
of
your
powerfull
gods
,
Your
gold
,
your
siluer
,
brasse
,
or
woodden
ones
?
That
can
,
nor
do
me
hurt
,
nor
protect
you
,
Most
pittied
women
,
will
you
sacrifice
To
such
,
or
call
them
gods
or
goddesses
,
Your
Parents
would
disdaine
to
be
the
same
,
Or
you
your selues
?
O
blinded
ignorance
,
Tell
me
Caliste
by
the
truth
I
charge
you
,
Or
any
thing
you
hold
more
deere
,
would
you
To
haue
him
deifide
to
posterity
,
Desire
your
father
an
Adulterer
,
A
Rauisher
,
almost
a
Paracide
,
A
vile
incestuous
wretch
?
Cal.
That
pitty
And
duty
answere
for
me
.
Dor.
Or
you
Christeta
,
To
be
heereafter
registred
a
goddesse
,
Giue
your
chast
body
vp
to
the
embraces
Of
Goatish
lust
,
haue
it
writ
on
your
forehead
,
This
is
the
common
Whoore
,
the
prostitute
,
The
Mistresse
in
the
art
of
wantonnesse
,
Knowes
euery
tricke
and
labyrinth
of
desires
That
are
immodest
.
Criste.
You
iudge
better
of
me
,
Or
my
affection
is
ill
plac'd
on
you
,
Shall
I
turne
Strumpet
?
Dor,
No
,
I
thinke
you
would
not
,
Yet
Venus
whom
you
worship
was
a
whore
,
Flora
the
Foundresse
of
the
publike
Stewes
,
And
has
for
that
her
sacrifice
:
your
great
god
,
Your
Iupiter
,
a
loose
adulterer
,
Incestuous
with
his
sister
,
reade
but
those
That
haue
canoniz'd
them
,
youle
find
them
worse
Then
in
chast
language
I
can
speakes
them
to
you
,
Are
they
immortall
then
that
did
partake
Of
humane
weakenesse
,
and
had
ample
share
In
mens
most
base
affections
?
subiect
to
Vnchast
loues
,
anger
,
bondage
,
wounds
,
as
men
are
.
Her
Iupiter
to
serue
his
lust
turn'd
Bull
.
The
ship
indeede
in
which
he
stole
Europa
.
Neptune
for
gaine
builds
vp
the
walls
of
Troy
As
a
day-labourer
,
Apollo
keepes
Admetus
sheepe
for
bread
;
the
Lemnian
Smith
Sweats
at
the
Forge
,
for
hire
;
Lyometheus
heere
With
his
still
growing
Liuer
feedes
the
Vulture
;
Saturne
bound
fast
in
hell
with
adamant
chaines
;
And
thousands
more
,
on
whom
abused
error
Bestowes
a
diety
,
will
you
then
deere
Sisters
,
For
I
would
haue
you
such
,
pay
your
Deuotions
To
things
of
lesse
power
then
your selues
?
Cal.
We
worship
Their
good
deedes
in
their
Images
.
Dor.
By
whom
fashion'd
,
By
sinfull
men
?
Ile
tell
you
a
short
tale
,
Nor
can
you
but
confesse
it
was
a
true
one
.
A
King
of
AEgypt
being
to
errect
The
Image
of
Osiris
,
whom
they
honour
,
Tooke
from
the
Matrons
necks
the
richest
Iewels
And
purest
gold
,
as
the
materialls
To
finish
vp
his
worke
;
which
perfected
,
With
all
solemnity
he
set
it
vp
To
be
ador'd
,
and
seru'd
himselfe
his
Idoll
;
Desiring
it
to
giue
him
victory
Against
his
enemies
,
but
being
ouerthrowne
,
Enrag'd
against
his
god
(
these
are
fine
gods
Subiect
to
humane
fury
)
he
tooke
downe
The
sencelesse
thing
,
and
melting
it
againe
,
He
made
a
Basing
,
in
which
Eunuches
wash'd
His
Concubines
feete
,
and
for
this
for
did
vse
Some
moneths
it
seru'd
:
his
mistresse
proouing
false
,
As
most
indeede
do
so
,
and
grace
concluded
,
Betweene
him
and
the
Priests
,
of
the
same
Basing
He
made
his
god
againe
,
thinke
,
thinke
of
this
,
And
then
consider
,
if
all
worldly
honors
Or
pleasures
that
do
leaue
sharpe
stings
behind
them
,
Haue
power
to
win
such
as
haue
reasonable
soules
,
To
put
their
trust
in
drosse
.
Cal.
Oh
that
I
had
beene
borne
Without
a
father
.
Chri.
Piety
to
him
Hath
ruin'd
vs
for
euer
.
Dor.
Thinke
not
so
,
You
may
repaire
all
yet
,
the
Attribute
That
speakes
his
Godhead
most
,
is
mercifull
,
Reuenge
is
proper
to
the
Fiends
you
worship
,
Yet
cannot
strike
without
his
leaue
,
you
weepe
,
Oh
tis
a
heauenly
showre
,
celestiall
balme
To
cure
your
wounded
conscience
,
let
it
fall
,
Fall
thick
vpon
it
,
and
when
that
is
spent
,
Ile
helpe
it
with
another
of
my
teares
.
And
may
your
true
repentance
proue
the
child
Of
my
true
sorrow
,
neuer
mother
had
A
birth
so
happy
.
Cal.
We
are
caught
our selues
That
came
to
take
you
,
and
assur'd
of
conquest
We
are
your
Captiues
.
Dor.
And
in
that
you
triumph
,
Your
victory
had
beene
eternall
losse
,
And
this
your
losse
immortall
gaine
,
fixe
heere
,
And
you
shall
feele
your selues
inwardly
arm'd
Gainst
tortures
,
death
,
and
hell
,
but
take
heede
sisters
,
That
or
through
weakenesse
,
threats
,
or
mild
perswasions
Though
of
a
father
,
you
fall
not
into
A
second
and
a
worse
Apostacie
.
Cal.
Neuer
,
oh
neuer
,
steel'd
by
your
example
,
We
dare
the
worst
of
tyrranny
.
Chri.
Heer's
our
warrant
,
You
shall
along
and
witnesse
it
.
Dor.
Be
confirm'd
then
And
rest
assur'd
,
the
more
you
suffer
heere
,
The
more
your
glory
,
you
to
heauen
more
deere
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Artemia
,
Sapritius
,
Theophilus
,
Harpax
.
Art.
Sapritius
though
your
sonne
deserue
no
pitty
,
We
grieue
his
sicknesse
,
his
contempt
of
vs
We
cast
behinde
vs
,
aud
looke
backe
vpon
His
seruice
done
to
Caesar
,
that
weighs
downe
Our
iust
displeasure
,
if
his
malady
Haue
growth
from
his
restraint
,
or
that
you
thinke
His
liberty
can
cure
him
,
let
him
haue
it
,
Say
we
forgiue
him
freely
.
Sap.
Your
grace
hindeys
Euer
your
humblest
Vassals
.
Art.
Vse
all
meanes
For
his
recouery
,
though
yet
I
loue
him
,
I
will
not
force
affection
,
if
the
Christian
Whose
beauty
hath
out-riuald
mine
,
be
wonne
To
be
of
our
beliefe
,
let
him
enioy
her
,
That
all
may
know
when
the
cause
wills
,
I
can
Command
my
owne
desires
.
The.
Be
happy
then
,
My
Lord
Sapritius
,
I
am
confident
Such
eloquence
and
sweete
perswasion
dwels
Vpon
my
Daughters
tongues
,
that
they
will
worke
her
To
any
thing
they
please
.
Sap.
I
wish
they
may
,
Yet
tis
no
easie
taske
to
vndertake
,
To
altar
a
peruerse
and
obstinate
woman
.
a
shout
within
,
loud
Musicke
.
Art.
What
meanes
this
shout
.
Sap.
Tis
seconded
with
Musicke
,
Triumphint
musicke
,
ha
.
Enter
Sempromus
.
Semp.
My
Lord
your
Daughters
The
pillars
of
our
faith
hauing
conuerted
,
For
so
report
giues
out
:
the
Christian
Lady
,
The
Image
of
great
Iupiter
borne
before
them
Sue
for
accesse
.
Theo.
My
soule
diuin'd
as
much
,
Blest
be
the
time
when
first
they
saw
this
light
,
Their
Mother
when
she
bore
them
to
support
My
feeble
age
,
fild
not
my
longing
heart
With
so
much
ioy
,
as
they
in
this
good
worke
Haue
throwne
vpon
me
.
Enter
Priest
with
the
Image
of
Iupiter
,
Iucense
and
Consors
,
followed
by
Caliste
,
and
Christeta
,
leading
Dorothea
,
Welcome
,
oh
thrice
welcome
Daughters
,
both
of
my
body
and
my
mind
,
Let
me
embrace
in
you
my
blisse
,
my
comfort
,
And
Dorothea
now
more
welcome
too
,
Then
if
you
neuer
had
falne
off
,
I
am
rauish't
With
the
excesse
of
ioy
,
speake
happy
daughters
The
blest
euent
.
Cal.
We
neuer
gain'd
so
much
By
any
vndertaking
.
The.
Oh
my
deare
Girle
,
Our
gods
reward
thee
.
Dor.
Nor
was
euer
time
On
my
part
better
spent
.
Chri.
We
are
all
now
Of
one
opinion
.
The.
My
best
Christeta
,
Madame
if
euer
you
did
grace
to
worth
,
Vouchsafe
your
Princely
hands
.
Art.
Most
willingly
:
Doe
you
refuse
it
?
Let
vs
first
deserue
it
:
The.
My
owne
child
still
,
heere
set
our
god
,
prepare
The
Incense
quickly
,
come
faire
Dorothea
,
I
will
my selfe
support
you
,
now
kneele
downe
And
pay
your
vowes
to
Iupiter
,
Dor.
I
shall
doe
it
Better
by
their
example
.
The.
They
shall
guide
you
,
They
are
familiar
with
the
sacrifice
,
Forward
my
Twinnes
of
comfort
,
and
to
teach
her
Make
a
ioynt
offring
.
Chri.
Thus
.
Cal
.
And
thus
.
They
both
spit
at
the
Image
,
throw
it
downe
,
and
spurne
it
.
Har.
Profane
And
impious
,
stand
you
now
like
a
Statue
?
Are
you
the
Champion
of
the
Gods
?
where
is
Your
holy
zeale
,
your
anger
?
The.
I
am
blasted
,
And
as
my
feete
were
rooted
heere
,
I
finde
I
haue
no
motion
,
I
would
I
had
no
sight
too
,
Or
if
my
eyes
can
serue
to
any
vse
,
Giue
me
thou
iniut'd
power
a
sea
of
teares
,
To
expiate
this
madnesse
in
my
Daughters
:
For
being
themselues
,
they
would
haue
trembled
at
So
blasphemous
a
deede
in
any
other
,
For
my
sake
hold
a
while
thy
dreadfull
thunder
,
And
giue
me
patience
to
demand
a
reason
For
this
accursed
act
.
Dor.
Twas
brauely
done
.
The.
Peace
damn'd
Enchantres
peace
,
I
should
looke
on
you
With
eyes
made
red
with
fury
,
and
my
hand
That
shakes
with
rage
should
much
outstrip
my
tongue
,
And
seale
my
vengeance
on
your
hearts
,
but
nature
To
you
that
haue
falne
once
,
bids
me
againe
To
be
a
father
,
O
how
durst
you
tempt
The
anger
of
great
Ioue
?
Dor.
A
lacke
poore
Ioue
,
He
is
no
Swaggerer
,
how
smug
he
stands
,
Heele
take
a
kick
,
or
any
thing
.
Sap.
Stop
her
mouth
.
Dor.
It
is
the
ancientst
godling
do
not
feare
him
,
He
would
not
hurt
the
thiese
that
stole
away
Two
of
his
golden
locks
,
indeede
he
could
not
,
And
still
tis
the
same
quiet
thing
.
Theo.
Blasphemer
.
Ingenious
cruelty
shall
punish
this
,
Thou
art
past
hope
,
but
for
you
yet
deare
daughters
,
Againe
be
witcht
,
the
dew
of
mild
forgiuenesse
May
gently
fall
,
prouided
you
deserue
it
With
true
contrition
,
be
your selues
againe
,
Sue
to
the
offended
diety
.
Chi.
Not
to
be
The
Mistresse
of
the
earth
.
Cal.
I
will
not
offer
A
graine
of
Incense
to
it
,
much
lesse
kneele
,
Not
looke
on
it
but
with
contempt
and
scorne
,
To
haue
a
thousand
yeeres
confer'd
vpon
me
Of
worldly
blessings
,
we
professe
our selues
To
be
like
Dorothea
,
Christians
,
And
owe
hee
for
that
happinesse
.
The.
My
eares
Receiue
in
hearing
this
,
all
deadly
charmes
Powerfull
to
make
man
wretched
.
Art.
Are
these
they
You
brag'd
could
conuert
others
?
Sap.
That
want
strength
To
stand
themselues
?
Har.
Your
Honour
is
ingag'd
,
The
credit
of
our
cause
depends
vpon
it
,
Something
you
must
doe
suddenly
,
The.
And
I
will
.
Har.
They
merit
death
,
but
falling
by
your
hand
,
It
will
be
recorded
for
a
iust
reuenge
And
holy
fury
in
you
.
The.
Doe
not
blow
,
The
Furnace
of
a
wrath
thrice
hot
already
,
AEtna
is
in
my
brest
,
wild
fire
burnes
heere
,
Which
onely
bloud
must
quench
:
incensed
power
,
Which
from
my
infancy
I
haue
ador'd
,
Looke
downe
with
fauourable
beames
vpon
The
Sacrifice
(
though
not
allow'd
thy
Priest
)
Which
I
will
offer
to
thee
,
and
be
pleasde
(
My
fierie
zeale
inciding
me
to
act
it
)
To
call
that
iustice
,
others
may
stile
murther
.
Come
you
accursd
,
thus
by
the
haire
I
drag
you
Before
this
holy
altar
;
thus
looke
on
you
Lesse
pittifull
then
Tigres
to
their
prey
.
And
thus
with
mine
owne
hand
I
take
that
life
Which
I
gaue
to
you
.
kils
them
.
Doro.
O
most
cruell
Butcher
.
Theo.
My
anger
ends
not
here
,
hels
dreadfull
porter
Receiue
into
thy
euer
open
gates
Their
damned
soules
,
and
let
the
furies
whips
On
them
alone
be
wasted
:
and
when
death
Closes
these
eyes
,
twill
be
Elizium
to
me
,
To
heare
their
shreekes
and
howlings
,
make
me
Pluto
Thy
instruments
to
furnish
thee
with
soules
Of
this
accursed
sect
,
nor
let
me
fall
Till
my
fell
vengeance
hath
consum'd
them
all
.
exit
with
Harpax
hugging
him
.
Enter
Artemia
laughing
.
Arte.
Tis
a
braue
zeale
.
Doro.
O
call
him
backe
againe
,
Call
backe
your
hangman
,
here's
on
prisoner
left
To
be
the
subiect
of
his
knife
.
Arte.
Not
so
.
We
are
not
so
neere
reconcilde
vnto
thee
,
Thou
shalt
not
perish
such
an
easie
way
.
Be
she
your
charge
Sapritius
now
,
and
suffer
None
to
come
neere
her
till
we
haue
found
out
Some
torments
worthy
of
her
.
Ano.
Courage
Mistresse
,
These
Martyrs
but
prepare
your
glorious
fate
,
You
shall
exceed
them
and
not
imitate
.
exeunt
.
Enter
Spungius
and
Hircius
ragged
at
seuerall
doores
.
Hir.
Spunoius
.
Spun.
My
fine
rogue
,
how
ist
?
how
goes
this
totterd
world
Hir.
Hast
any
money
?
Spun.
Money
!
no
,
the
Tauerne
.
Iuy
clings
about
my
mony
and
kils
it
.
Hast
thou
any
mony
?
Hir.
No
,
my
mony
is
a
mad
Bull
,
and
finding
any
gap
opend
,
away
it
runs
.
Spun.
I
see
then
a
Tauerne
and
a
Bawdy-house
haue
faces
much
like
,
the
one
has
red
grates
next
dore
,
the
tother
has
peeping
holes
within
doores
;
the
Tauerne
hath
euermore
a
bush
,
the
bawdy
close
sometimes
neither
hedge
nor
bush
.
From
a
Tauerne
a
man
comes
reeling
,
from
a
bawdy
house
not
able
to
stand
.
In
the
Tauerne
you
are
cousend
with
paltry
Wine
,
in
a
bawdy-house
by
a
painted
Where
,
Money
may
haue
Wine
,
and
a
Whore
will
haue
Mony
,
but
neither
can
you
cry
,
Drawer
you
Rogue
,
or
keepe
doore
rotten
Bawde
,
without
a
siluer
Whistle
,
wee
are
iustly
plagued
therefore
for
running
from
our
Mistresse
.
Hir.
Thou
didst
,
I
did
not
;
yet
I
had
run
to
,
but
that
one
gaue
me
turpentine
pilles
,
&
that
stayde
my
running
.
Spun.
Well
:
the
thred
of
my
life
is
drawne
through
the
needle
of
necessity
,
whose
eye
looking
vpon
my
lowsie
breeches
,
cryes
out
it
cannot
mend'em
:
which
so
prickes
the
linings
of
my
body
,
and
those
are
Heart
,
Lights
,
Lungs
,
Guts
,
and
Midriffe
,
that
I
beg
on
my
knees
to
haue
Atropos
(
the
Tailer
to
the
destinies
)
to
take
her
sheares
and
cut
my
thred
in
two
,
or
to
heate
the
Iron
goose
of
Mortalitie
,
and
so
presse
me
to
death
.
Hir.
Sure
thy
father
was
some
botcher
,
and
thy
hungry
tongue
bit
off
these
shreds
of
complaints
,
to
patch
vp
the
elbowes
of
thy
nittie
eloquence
.
Spun.
And
what
was
thy
father
?
Hir.
A
low
minded
Cobler
,
a
Cobler
whose
zeale
set
many
a
woman
vpright
,
the
remembrance
of
whose
Awle
I
now
hauing
nothing
,
thrusts
such
scuruy
stitches
into
my
soule
,
that
the
heele
of
my
happines
has
gone
awry
.
Spun.
Pitty
that
ere
thou
trodst
thy
shooe
awry
.
Hir.
Long
I
cannot
last
,
for
all
sowterly
waxe
of
comfort
melting
away
,
and
misery
taking
the
length
of
my
foote
,
it
bootes
not
me
to
sue
for
life
when
all
my
hopes
are
seame
.
rent
,
and
go
wetshod
.
Spun.
This
shews
th'at
ta
Coblers
son
by
going
through
stirch
:
O
Hircius
wud
thou
&
I
were
so
happy
to
be
coblers
Hir.
So
would
I
,
for
both
of
vs
being
now
wearie
of
our
liues
,
should
then
be
sure
of
shoomakers
ends
.
Spun.
I
see
the
beginning
of
my
ende
for
I
am
almost
staru'd
.
Hir.
So
am
not
I
,
but
I
am
more
then
famishd
.
Spun.
All
the
members
of
my
bodie
are
in
rebellion
one
against
another
.
Hir.
So
are
mine
,
and
nothing
but
a
cooke
being
a
constable
can
appease
them
,
presenting
to
my
nose
,
instead
of
his
painted
staffe
,
a
spitfull
of
rost-meate
.
Spun.
But
in
this
rebellion
,
what
vprores
do
they
make
,
my
belly
cries
to
my
mouth
,
why
dost
not
gape
&
feed
me
Hir.
And
my
mouth
sets
out
a
throate
to
my
hand
why
dost
not
thou
lift
vp
meate
and
cramme
my
choppes
with
it
.
Spun.
Then
my
hand
hath
a
fling
at
mine
eyes
,
because
they
looke
not
out
and
sharke
for
victuals
.
Hir.
Which
mine
eyes
seeing
,
full
of
teares
,
crie
alowd
,
and
curse
my
feet
for
not
ambling
vp
and
downe
to
feede
Colon
,
sithence
if
good
meate
be
in
any
place
,
tis
knowne
my
feet
can
smell
.
Spu.
But
then
my
feet
like
lazie
rogues
lie
still
,
and
had
rather
do
nothing
,
then
run
to
and
fro
,
to
purchase
anything
Hir.
Why
mong
so
many
millions
of
people
,
should
thou
and
I
onely
bee
miserable
totterdemalions
,
rag-a-muffins
,
and
lowsie
desperates
.
Spun.
Thou
art
a
meere
I
am-an-o
,
I
am-an-as
,
consider
the
whole
world
,
and
tis
as
we
are
.
Hir.
Lowsie
,
beggerly
,
thou
whorson
Assa
Faetida
.
Spun.
Worse
,
al
tottrings
,
al
out
of
frame
,
thou
Fooliamini
Hir.
As
how
arsnicke
:
come
make
the
world
smart
.
Sp.
Old
Honor
goes
on
crutches
,
beggry
rides
caroched
,
honest
men
make
feastes
,
knaues
sit
at
tables
,
cowards
are
laptin
veluet
,
souldiers
(
as
wee
)
in
ragges
:
Beautie
turnes
Whore
;
Whore
Bawd
;
and
both
dye
of
the
poxe
:
why
then
when
all
the
world
stumbles
,
should
thou
and
I
walke
vpright
?
Enter
Angelo
.
Hir.
Stop
,
looke
who's
yonder
.
Spun.
Fellow
Angelo
!
how
does
my
little
man
?
well
.
Ang.
Yes
,
and
would
you
did
so
,
where
are
your
clothes
?
Hir.
Clothes
!
you
see
euery
woman
almost
goe
in
her
loose
gowne
,
and
why
should
not
wee
haue
our
clothes
loose
?
Spun.
Wud
they
were
loose
.
Ang.
Why
where
are
they
?
Spun.
Where
many
a
veluet
cloke
I
warrant
at
this
houre
keepes
them
company
,
they
are
pawnd
to
a
Broker
.
Ang.
Why
pawnd
,
where's
all
the
gold
I
left
with
you
?
Hir.
The
gold
!
we
put
that
into
a
Scriueners
hands
,
and
he
has
cousend
vs
.
Spun.
And
therefore
I
prethee
Angelo
,
if
thou
hast
another
purse
,
let
it
be
confiscate
,
and
brought
to
deuastation
.
Ang.
Are
you
made
all
of
lyes
?
I
know
which
way
Your
gilt-wing'd
peeces
flew
;
I
will
no
more
Be
mock'd
by
you
:
be
sorry
for
your
ryots
,
Tame
your
wilde
flesh
by
labor
,
eate
the
bread
Got
with
hard
hands
:
let
sorrow
be
your
whip
To
draw
drops
of
repentance
from
your
heart
,
When
I
reade
this
amendment
in
your
eyes
,
You
shall
not
want
,
till
then
my
pitty
dies
.
exit
.
Spun.
Ist
not
a
shame
that
this
scuruy
Puerilis
should
giue
vs
lessons
?
Hir.
I
haue
dwelt
thou
knowst
A
long
time
in
the
Subvrbs
of
the
conscience
,
and
they
are
euer
bawdy
,
but
now
my
heart
shall
take
a
house
within
the
walls
of
honesty
.
Enter
Harpax
aloose
.
Spun.
O
you
drawers
of
wine
,
draw
me
no
more
to
the
bar
of
Beggery
;
the
sound
of
Score
a
pottle
of
sack
,
is
worse
then
the
noyse
of
a
scolding
oyster
wench
,
or
two
Cats
incorporating
.
Harp.
This
must
not
be
,
I
doe
not
like
when
conscience
Thawes
,
keepe
her
frozen
still
:
how
now
my
masters
?
Deiected
,
drooping
,
drownd
in
teares
,
clothes
torne
,
Leane
,
and
ill
colour'd
,
sighing
!
whats
the
whitlewinde
Which
raiseth
all
these
mischiefes
?
I
haue
seene
you
Drawne
better
on't
.
O!
but
a
spirit
told
me
You
both
would
come
to
this
,
when
in
you
thrust
Your selues
into
the
seruice
of
that
Lady
,
Who
shortly
now
must
die
;
where's
now
her
praying
What
good
get
you
by
wearing
your
our
feete
,
To
run
on
scuruy
errands
to
the
poore
,
And
to
beare
money
to
a
sort
of
rogues
,
And
lowsie
prisoners
.
Hir.
A
pox
on'em
,
I
neuer
prosperd
since
I
did
it
.
Spun.
Had
I
bin
a
Pagan
stil
,
I
could
not
haue
spit
white
for
want
of
drinke
,
but
come
to
any
Vintner
now
and
bid
him
trust
me
,
because
I
turnd
Christian
,
and
he
cries
puh
,
Har.
Y'are
righly
seru'd
;
before
that
peeuish
Lady
Had
to
doe
with
you
,
weomen
,
wine
,
and
money
Flow'd
in
aboundance
with
you
,
did
it
not
?
Hir.
Oh!
those
dayes
,
those
dayes
.
Har.
Beat
not
your
breasts
,
teare
not
your
haire
in
madnes
Those
dayes
shall
come
agen
be
rulde
by
me
,
And
better
(
marke
me
)
better
.
Spun.
I
haue
seen
you
sir
as
I
take
it
,
an
attendant
on
the
Lord
Theophilus
.
Har.
Yes
,
yes
,
in
shew
his
seruant
,
but
harke
hither
.
Take
heed
no body
listens
.
Spun.
Not
a
Mouse
stirres
.
Har.
I
am
a
Prince
disguisde
.
Hir.
Disguisde
!
how
!
drunke
,
Har.
Yes
my
fine
boye
,
Ile
drinke
to
,
and
be
drunke
,
I
am
a
Prince
,
and
anyaman
by
me
(
Let
him
but
keepe
my
rules
)
shall
soone
grow
rich
,
Exceeding
rich
,
most
infinitely
rich
,
He
that
shall
serue
me
,
is
not
staru'd
from
pleasures
As
other
poore
knaues
are
;
no
,
take
their
fill
,
Spun.
But
that
sir
,
we
are
so
ragged
...
Har.
Youle
say
,
you'd
serue
me
.
Hir.
Before
any
master
vnder
the
Zodiake
.
Harp.
For
clothes
no
matter
;
I
haue
a
mind
to
both
.
And
one
thing
I
like
in
you
,
now
that
you
see
The
bonefire
of
your
Ladyes
state
burnt
out
,
You
giue
it
ouer
,
do
you
not
?
Hir.
Let
her
be
hangd
.
Spun.
And
poxd
.
Harp
Why
now
y'are
mine
.
Come
let
my
hosome
touch
you
.
Spun.
We
haue
bugges
Sir
.
Hir.
Ther's
mony
,
fetch
your
cloths
home
,
theres
for
you
Hir.
Auoid
Vermine
:
giue
ouer
our
mistresse
!
a
man
cannot
prosper
worse
if
he
serue
the
diuell
.
Har.
How
?
the
diuell
!
Ile
tell
you
what
now
of
the
diuell
,
He's
no
such
horrid
creature
,
clouen
footed
,
Blacke
,
saucer-eyde
,
his
nostrils
breathing
fire
,
As
these
lying
Christians
make
him
.
Both
No!
Har.
He's
more
louing
,
To
man
,
then
man
to
man
is
.
Hir.
Is
hee
so
!
wud
wee
two
might
come
acquainted
with
him
.
Har.
You
shall
:
he's
a
wondrous
good
fellow
,
loues
a
cup
of
wine
,
a
whore
,
any
thing
,
you
haue
mony
,
its
ten
to
one
but
Ile
bring
him
to
some
Tauerne
to
you
or
other
.
Spun.
Ile
be
the
best
roome
ith
;
house
for
him
.
Har.
Some
people
he
cannot
ondure
.
Hir.
Weele
giue
him
no
such
cause
.
Har.
He
hates
a
ciuill
Lawyer
,
as
a
souldier
does
peace
?
Spun.
How
a
commoner
?
Har.
Loues
him
from
the
teeth
outward
.
Spun.
Pray
my
Lord
and
Prince
,
let
me
encounter
you
with
one
foolish
question
:
does
the
diuell
eate
any
Mace
in's
broth
?
Har.
Exceeding
much
,
when
his
burning
feauer
takes
him
,
and
then
hee
has
the
knuckles
of
a
Bailiffe
boyld
to
his
breakefast
.
Hir.
Then
my
Lord
,
he
loues
a
Gatchpole
does
he
not
?
Har
.
As
a
Bearward
does
a
dog
,
a
Gatchpole
!
he
has
sworn
if
euer
he
dies
,
to
make
a
Serieant
his
heire
,
and
a
Yoeman
his
euerseer
.
Spun.
How
if
he
come
to
any
great
mans
gate
,
will
the
Porter
let
him
come
in
sit
?
Har.
Oh
,
hee
loues
Porters
of
great
mens
gates
,
because
they
are
euer
so
neere
the
wicket
.
Hir.
Doe
not
they
whom
he
makes
much
on
,
for
all
his
stroking
their
cheekes
,
leade
hellish
liues
vnder
him
.
Har.
No
,
no
,
no
,
no
,
he
will
be
damn
before
he
hurts
any
man
.
Doe
but
you
(
when
y'are
throughly
acquainted
with
him
)
aske
for
any
thing
,
see
if
it
does
not
come
.
Spun.
Anything
!
Har.
Call
for
a
delicate
race
whore
;
she's
brought
you
.
Hir.
Oh
my
elbow
itches
:
will
the
diuel
keepe
the
dore
?
Har.
Be
drunke
as
a
begger
,
he
helps
you
home
.
Spun.
O
my
fine
diuell
!
some
watchman
I
warrant
,
I
wonder
who's
his
constable
.
Har.
Will
you
sweare
,
roare
,
swagger
?
he
claps
you
.
Hir.
How
!
ath'
chops
.
Har.
No
,
ath'
shoulder
,
and
cries
O
my
braue
boy
.
Will
any
of
you
kill
a
man
?
Spun.
Yes
,
yes
,
I
,
I
.
Har.
Whats
his
word
,
hang
,
hang
,
tis
nothing
.
Or
stab
a
woman
.
Hir.
Yes
,
yes
,
I
,
I
.
Har.
Here's
the
worst
word
he
giues
you
,
a
pox
on't
goe
on
.
Hir.
O
inueagling
rascall
,
I
am
rauishd
.
Har.
Go
get
your
clothes
,
turne
vp
your
glasse
of
youth
,
And
let
the
sands
run
merily
,
nor
do
I
care
From
what
a
lauish
hand
your
money
flies
,
So
you
giue
none
away
,
feed
beggers
.
Hir.
Hang
'em
.
Har.
And
to
the
scrubbing
poore
.
Hir.
Ile
see
'em
hangd
first
.
Har.
One
seruice
you
must
do
me
.
Both
.
Anything
.
Har.
Your
Mistresse
Dorothea
,
ere
she
suffers
,
Is
to
be
put
to
tortures
,
haue
you
hearts
To
teare
her
into
shreekes
,
to
fetch
her
soule
Vp
in
the
Pangs
of
death
,
yet
not
to
die
.
Hir.
Suppose
this
shee
,
and
that
I
had
no
hands
,
heere's
my
teeth
.
Spun.
Suppose
this
she
,
and
that
I
had
no
teeth
,
heere's
my
nailes
.
Hir.
But
will
not
you
be
there
sir
.
Har.
No
,
not
for
hils
of
diamonds
,
the
grand
Master
Who
schooles
her
in
the
Christian
discipline
,
Abhorres
my
company
;
should
I
be
there
,
You'd
thinke
all
hell
broke
loose
,
we
shall
so
quarrell
.
Plie
you
this
businesse
;
he
,
her
flesh
who
spares
Is
lost
,
and
in
my
loue
neuer
more
shares
.
exit
.
Spun.
Here's
a
Master
you
rogue
.
Hir.
Sure
lie
cannot
chuse
but
haue
a
horrible
number
of
seruants
.
exeunt
Finis
Actus
tertis
.
Actus
4.
Scena
1.
A
bed
thrust
out
,
Antioninus
vpon
it
sicks
,
with
Physitions
about
him
,
Sapritius
and
Macrinus
.
Sap.
O
You
that
are
halfe
gods
,
lengthen
that
life
Their
dieties
lend
vs
,
turne
ore
all
the
volumes
Of
your
mysterious
AEsculapian
science
T'encrease
the
number
of
this
yong
mans
dayes
,
And
for
each
minute
of
his
time
prolong'd
,
Your
fee
shall
be
a
peece
of
Romane
gold
With
Caesars
stampe
,
such
as
he
sends
his
Captaines
When
in
the
warres
they
earne
well
:
do
but
saue
him
,
And
as
he
is
halfe
my selfe
,
be
you
all
mine
.
Doct.
What
art
can
do
,
we
promise
:
phisickes
hand
As
apt
is
to
destroy
,
as
to
preserue
,
If
heauen
make
not
the
medicine
;
all
this
while
Our
skill
hath
combat
held
with
his
disease
,
But
tis
so
armd
,
and
a
deepe
melancholy
To
be
such
in
part
with
death
,
we
are
in
feare
The
graue
must
mocke
our
labours
.
Mac.
I
haue
beene
His
keeper
in
this
sicknesse
,
with
such
eyes
As
I
haue
seene
my
mother
watch
ore
me
,
And
from
that
obseruation
sure
I
finde
,
It
is
a
Mid
wife
must
deliuer
him
.
Sap.
Is
he
with
child
,
a
Mid
wife
:
Mac.
Yes
,
With
child
,
And
will
I
feare
lose
life
if
by
a
woman
He
is
not
brought
to
bed
:
stand
by
his
Pillow
Some
little
while
and
in
his
broken
slumbers
Him
shall
you
heare
cry
out
on
Dorothea
,
And
when
his
armes
flye
open
to
catch
her
,
Closing
together
,
he
falls
fast
asleepe
,
Pleas'd
with
embracings
of
her
airy
forme
;
Physicians
but
torment
him
,
his
disease
Laughs
at
their
gibrish
language
,
let
him
heare
The
voyce
of
Dorothea
,
nay
but
the
name
,
He
starts
vp
with
high
colour
in
his
face
,
Shee
or
none
cures
him
,
and
how
that
can
be
,
(
The
Princesse
strick't
command
,
barring
that
happines
)
To
me
impossible
seemes
.
Sap.
To
me
it
shall
not
.
Ile
be
no
subiect
to
the
greatest
Caesar
Was
euer
crown'd
with
Lawrell
,
rather
then
cease
To
be
a
father
.
exit
.
Mac.
Silence
sit
,
he
wakes
.
Ant.
Thou
kilst
me
Dorothea
,
oh
Dorothea
.
Mac.
Shees
heere
;
I
enioy
her
.
Ant.
Where
,
Why
doe
you
mooke
me
,
Age
on
my
head
hath
stuck
no
white
haires
yet
,
Yet
I'me
an
old
man
,
a
fond
doting
foole
Vpon
a
woman
,
I
to
buy
her
beauty
,
(
Truth
I
am
bewitched
)
offer
my
life
,
And
she
for
my
acquaintance
hazirds
hers
,
Yet
for
our
equall
suffrings
,
none
holds
out
A
hand
of
pitty
.
Doct.
Let
him
haue
some
Musicke
.
Ant.
Hell
on
your
fidling
.
Doct.
Take
againe
your
bed
Sir
,
Sleepe
is
a
soueraigne
Physicke
.
Ant.
Take
an
Asses
head
Sir
,
Confusion
on
your
fooleries
,
your
charmes
,
Thou
stinking
Glister-pipe
,
where's
the
god
of
rest
,
Thy
Pills
,
and
base
Apothecary
drugges
Threatned
to
bring
vnto
me
,
out
you
Impostors
,
Quacksaluing
,
cheating
Mountbankes
,
your
skill
Is
to
make
sound
men
sicke
,
and
sicke
men
kill
.
Mac.
O
be
your selfe
deare
friend
.
An.
My selfe
Macrunis
How
can
I
be
my selfe
,
when
I
am
mangled
Into
a
thousand
peeces
,
heere
moues
my
head
,
But
wheres
my
heart
?
where euer
,
that
lies
dead
.
Enter
Sapritius
dragging
in
Dorothea
by
the
Haire
,
Angelo
attending
.
Sap.
Follow
me
thou
damn'd
Sorcores
,
call
vp
thy
spirits
,
And
if
they
can
,
now
let
'em
from
my
hand
Vntwine
these
witching
haires
.
Ant.
I
am
that
spirit
,
Or
if
I
be
not
(
were
you
not
my
father
)
One
made
of
Iron
should
how
that
hand
in
peeces
That
so
defaces
this
sweete
Monument
Of
my
loues
beauty
?
Sap.
Art
thou
sicke
?
Ant.
To
death
.
Sap.
Wouldst
thou
recouer
?
Ant.
Would
I
liue
in
blisse
?
Sap.
And
doe
thine
eyes
shoote
daggers
at
that
man
That
brings
thee
health
?
Aut.
It
is
not
in
the
world
?
Sap.
Ist
heere
?
Ant.
Oh
Treasure
,
by
enchantment
lock'd
In
Caues
as
deepe
as
hell
,
am
I
as
neere
.
Sap.
Breake
that
enchanted
Caut
,
enter
,
and
rifle
The
spoyles
thy
lust
hunts
after
,
I
descend
To
a
base
office
,
and
become
thy
Pandar
In
bringing
thee
this
proud
Thing
,
make
her
thy
Whore
,
Thy
health
lies
heere
if
she
deny
to
giue
it
,
Force
it
,
imagine
thou
assaultst
a
towne
,
Weake
wall
,
too't
,
tis
thine
owne
,
beat
but
this
downe
,
Come
,
and
vnseene
,
be
witnesse
to
this
battry
,
How
the
coy
strumpet
yeelds
.
Doct.
Shall
the
boy
stay
sir
.
Sap.
No
matter
for
the
boy
,
Pages
are
vs'd
to
these
odde
bawdy
Shufflings
,
and
indeede
are
those
Little
yong
snakes
in
a
Furies
head
Will
sting
worse
then
the
great
ones
,
Let
the
Pimpe
stay
.
exeunt
aside
.
Dor.
Oh
guard
me
Angels
,
What
Tragedy
must
begin
now
?
Ant.
When
a
Tyger
Leapes
into
a
tymerous
heard
,
with
rauenous
Iawes
Being
hunger-staru'd
,
what
Tragedy
then
begins
?
Dor.
Death
I
am
happy
so
,
you
hitherto
Haue
still
had
goodnes
spard
within
your
eyes
,
Let
not
that
Orbe
be
broken
.
Ang.
Feare
not
Mistresse
,
If
he
dare
offer
violence
,
we
two
Are
strong
enough
for
such
a
sickly
man
.
Dor.
What
is
your
horrid
purpose
sir
,
your
eye
Beares
danger
in
it
?
Ant.
I
must
.
Dor.
What
.
Sap.
Speake
it
out
.
Ant.
Climbe
that
sweete
Virgin
tree
.
Sap.
Plague
a
your
trees
.
Ant.
And
pluck
that
fruit
which
none
I
think
euer
tasted
:
Sap.
A
souldier
,
and
stand
fumbling
so
.
Dor.
O
Kill
me
,
Kneeles
.
And
heauen
will
take
it
as
a
sacrifice
,
But
it
you
play
the
Rauisher
,
there
is
A
Hell
to
swallow
you
.
Sap.
Let
her
swallow
thee
.
Ant.
Rise
for
the
Romane
Empire
(
Dorothea
)
I
would
not
wound
thine
honour
,
pleasure
forc'd
Are
vnripe
Apples
,
sowre
,
not
worth
the
plucking
,
Yet
let
me
tell
you
,
tis
my
fathers
will
,
That
I
should
seize
vpon
you
as
my
prey
.
Which
I
abhorre
as
much
as
the
blackest
sinne
The
villany
of
man
did
euer
act
.
Sapritius
breakes
in
and
Macrinus
.
Ang.
Dye
happy
for
this
language
.
Sap.
Dye
a
slaue
,
A
blockish
Ideot
.
Mac.
Deare
sir
,
vexe
him
not
.
Sap.
Yes
,
and
vexe
thee
too
,
both
I
thinke
are
geldings
,
Cold
,
Phlegmatike
Bastard
,
th'art
no
brat
of
mine
,
One
sparke
of
me
,
when
I
had
heate
like
thine
By
this
had
made
a
Bonefire
:
a
tempting
whore
(
For
whom
th'art
mad
)
thrust
euen
into
thine
armes
,
And
standst
thou
puling
?
had
a
Taylor
seene
her
Her
at
this
aduantage
,
he
with
his
crosse-capers
Had
rufled
her
by
this
,
but
thou
shalt
curse
Thy
dalliance
,
and
heere
before
her
eyes
Teare
thy
flesh
in
peeces
,
when
a
slaue
In
hot
lust
bathes
himselfe
,
and
gluts
those
pleasures
Thy
nicenesse
durst
not
touch
,
call
out
a
slaue
,
You
Captaine
of
our
guard
,
fetch
a
slaue
hither
.
exit
.
Ant.
What
will
you
do
deere
Sir
.
Sap.
Teach
her
a
trade
,
which
many
would
learne
In
lesse
then
halfe
an
houre
,
to
play
the
Whore
.
Enter
a
Slaue
.
Mac.
A
Slaue
is
to
me
,
what
now
.
Sap.
Thou
hast
bones
and
flesh
Enough
to
ply
thy
labour
,
from
what
country
Wert
thou
tane
Prisoner
,
heere
to
be
our
slaue
.
Slaue
.
From
Brittaine
.
Sap.
In
the
west
Ocean
.
Sla.
Yes
.
Sap.
An
Iland
.
Sla.
Yes
.
Sap.
I
am
fitted
,
of
all
Nations
Our
Romane
swords
euer
conquer'd
,
none
comes
neere
The
Brittaine
for
true
whooring
:
sirrah
fellow
,
What
wouldst
thou
doe
to
gaine
thy
liberty
?
Sla.
Doe
!
liberty
!
fight
naked
with
a
Lyon
,
Venture
to
plucke
a
Standard
from
the
heart
Of
an
arm'd
Legion
:
liberty
!
Ide
thus
Bestride
a
Rampire
,
and
defiance
spit
I'th
face
of
death
;
then
,
when
the
battring
Ram
Were
fetching
his
careere
backward
to
pash
Me
with
his
hornes
in
peeces
:
to
shake
my
chaines
off
,
And
that
I
could
not
doo't
but
by
thy
death
,
Stoodst
thou
on
this
dry
shore
,
I
on
a
rock
Ten
Piramids
high
,
downe
would
I
leape
to
kill
thee
,
Or
dye
my selfe
:
what
is
for
man
to
doe
Ile
venture
on
,
to
be
no
more
a
slaue
.
Sap.
Thou
shalt
then
be
no
slaue
,
for
I
wil
set
thee
Vpon
a
peece
of
worke
is
fit
for
man
,
Braue
for
a
Brittaine
,
drag
that
Thing
aside
And
rauish
her
.
Sla.
And
rauish
her
!
is
this
your
manly
seruice
,
A
Diuell
scornes
to
doo't
,
tis
for
a
beast
,
A
villaine
,
not
a
man
,
I
am
as
yet
But
halfe
a
slaue
,
but
when
that
worke
is
past
,
A
damned
whole
one
,
a
blacke
vgly
slaue
,
The
slaue
of
all
base
slaues
,
doo't
thy selfe
Roman
,
Tis
drudgery
fit
for
thee
.
Sap.
Hees
bewitch'd
too
,
Binde
him
,
and
with
a
Bastinado
giue
him
Vpon
his
naked
belly
200.
blowes
.
Sla.
Thou
art
more
slaue
then
I
.
exit
carried
in
.
Dor.
That
power
supernall
on
whom
waites
my
soule
,
Is
Captaine
ore
my
chastity
.
Ant.
Good
sir
giue
ore
,
The
more
you
wrong
her
,
your selfes
vex'd
the
more
,
Sap.
Plagues
light
on
her
and
thee
;
thus
downe
I
throw
Thy
Harlot
thus
bi'th
haire
,
naile
her
to
earth
,
Call
in
ten
slaues
,
let
euery
one
discouer
What
lust
desires
,
and
surfet
heere
his
fill
,
Call
in
ten
slaues
.
Ang.
They
are
come
sir
at
your
call
.
Sap.
O
oh
.
Falls
downe
.
Enter
Theophilus
.
The.
Where
is
the
Gouernour
?
Ant.
There's
my
wretched
father
.
The.
My
Lord
,
Sapritius
,
hee's
not
dead
,
my
Lord
,
That
Witch
there
.
Aut.
Tis
no
Romane
gods
can
strike
These
fearefull
terrors
,
O
thou
happy
maid
,
Forgiue
this
wicked
purpose
of
my
father
.
Dor.
I
doe
.
The.
Gone
,
gone
,
he's
peppered
:
tis
thou
Hast
done
this
act
internall
.
Dor.
Heauen
pardon
you
,
And
if
my
wrongs
from
thence
pull
vengeance
downe
(
I
can
no
myracles
worke
)
yet
from
my
soule
Pray
to
those
powers
I
serue
,
he
may
recouer
.
The.
He
stirres
,
helpe
,
raise
him
vp
,
my
Lord
.
Sap.
Where
am
I
?
The
One
cheeke
is
blasted
.
Sap.
Blasted
!
Wheres
the
Lamia
That
teares
my
entrailes
?
I'me
be
witch'd
,
seize
on
her
?
Dor.
I'me
heere
,
do
what
you
please
.
The.
Spurne
her
too'th
barre
.
Dor.
Come
boy
,
being
there
,
more
neere
to
heauen
we
are
Sap
Kicke
harder
,
goe
out
witch
.
exeunt
.
Ant.
O
bloudy
hangmen
,
thine
own
gods
giue
thee
breth
,
Each
of
thy
tortors
is
my
seuerall
death
.
exit
.
Enter
Harpax
Hircius
,
and
Spungius
.
Har.
Doe
you
like
my
seruice
now
,
say
am
not
I
A
Master
worth
attendance
.
Spun.
Attendance
,
I
had
rather
licke
cleane
the
soles
of
your
durty
bootes
,
then
weare
the
richest
sute
of
any
infected
Lord
,
whose
rotten
life
hangs
betweene
the
2
Poles
.
Hir.
A
Lords
sute
!
I
wud
not
giue
vp
the
cloake
of
your
seruice
to
meet
the
splay-foot
estate
of
any
leftey'd
knight
aboue
the
Antipodes
,
because
they
are
vnlucky
to
meete
.
Har.
This
day
ile
try
your
loues
to
me
,
tis
onely
But
well
to
vse
the
agility
of
your
armes
,
Spun.
Or
legs
,
I
am
lofty
at
them
.
Hir.
or
any
other
member
that
has
no
legges
.
Spun.
Thou't
runne
into
some
hole
.
Hir.
If
I
meet
one
that's
more
thē
my
match
,
&
that
I
cannot
stand
in
their
hands
,
I
must
&
will
creep
on
my
knees
.
Har.
Heere
me
my
little
teeme
of
villaines
,
heare
me
,
I
cannot
teach
you
Fencing
with
these
Cudgels
,
Yet
you
must
vse
them
,
lay
them
on
but
soundly
,
Thats
all
.
Hir.
Nay
if
we
come
to
malling
once
,
puh
,
Spun.
But
what
Wall-nut
tree
is
it
we
must
beate
.
Har.
Your
Mistresse
.
Hir.
How
!
my
Mistresse
!
I
begin
to
haue
a
Christians
heart
,
made
of
sweet
butter
,
I
melt
,
I
cannot
strike
a
womā
.
Hir.
Not
I
,
vnlesse
she
scratch
,
bum
my
mistresse
!
Har.
Y'are
Coxecombes
,
silly
Animals
,
Hir.
Whats
that
?
Har.
Drones
,
Asses
,
blinded
Moles
,
that
dare
not
thrust
Your
armes
out
to
catch
Fortune
,
say
you
fall
off
,
It
must
be
done
you
are
conuerted
Rascalls
,
And
that
once
spred
abroad
,
why
euery
slaue
Will
kicke
you
,
call
you
motley
Christians
,
And
halfe
fac'd
Christians
.
Spun.
The
guts
of
my
conscience
beginne
to
be
of
whit-leather
,
Hir.
I
doubt
me
I
shall
haue
no
sweet
buttet
in
me
.
Har.
Deny
this
,
and
each
Pagan
whom
you
meete
Shall
forked
fingers
thrust
into
your
eyes
.
Hir.
If
we
be
Cuckolds
.
Har.
Doe
this
,
and
euery
god
the
Gentiles
bow
to
,
Shall
adde
a
fadome
to
your
line
of
yeeres
.
Spun.
A
hundred
fadome
,
I
desire
no
more
.
Hir.
I
desire
but
one
inch
longer
,
Har.
The
Senators
will
as
you
passe
along
Clap
you
vpon
your
shoulders
with
this
hand
,
And
with
this
hand
glue
you
gold
when
you
are
dead
,
Happy
that
man
shall
be
can
get
a
nayle
,
The
paring
—
,
they
the
durt
vnder
the
nayle
Of
any
of
you
both
,
to
say
this
durt
Belong'd
to
Spungius
or
Hercius
.
Spun.
They
shall
not
want
durt
vnder
my
nayles
,
ile
keepe'em
long
of
purpose
,
for
now
my
singers
itch
to
bee
at
her
.
Hir.
The
first
thing
I
doe
Ile
take
her
Ore
the
lips
.
Spun.
And
I
the
hips
,
we
may
strike
any where
.
Har.
Yes
,
any where
.
Hir.
Then
I
know
where
ile
hit
her
.
Har.
Prosper
and
be
mine
owne
;
stand
by
,
I
must
not
To
see
this
done
,
great
businesse
calls
me
hence
,
Hee's
made
can
make
her
eurse
his
violence
.
exit
.
Spun.
Feare
it
not
sir
,
her
ribs
shall
be
basted
.
Hir.
He
come
vpon
her
with
rounce
,
robble-hobble
,
and
thwicke thwack
thirlety
bouncing
.
Enter
Dorothea
lead
Prisoner
,
a
Guard
attending
,
a
Hangman
with
Cords
in
some
vgly
shape
,
sets
vp
a
Pillar
in
the
middle
of
the
stage
,
Sapritius
and
Theophilus
sit
,
Angelo
by
her
.
Sap.
According
to
our
Romane
customes
,
binde
That
Christian
to
a
Pillar
.
Theo.
infernall
Furies
,
Could
they
into
my
hand
thrust
all
their
whips
To
teare
thy
flesh
thy
soule
,
tis
not
a
torture
Fit
to
the
Vengeance
,
I
should
heape
on
thee
,
For
wrongs
done
me
:
me
!
for
flagitious
facts
By
thee
done
to
our
gods
,
yet
(
so
it
stand
To
great
Cesaraes
Gouernors
high
pleasure
)
Bow
but
thy
Knee
to
Iupiter
and
offer
Any
slight
sacrifice
,
or
doe
but
sweare
By
Caesars
fortune
,
and
be
free
.
Sap.
Thou
shalt
.
Dor.
Not
for
all
Casar
fortune
,
were
it
chaind
To
more
worlds
,
then
are
kingdomes
in
the
world
,
And
all
those
worlds
drawne
after
him
:
I
defie
Your
hangmen
;
you
now
shew
me
whither
to
flie
.
Sap.
Are
her
tormentors
ready
?
Ang.
Shrinke
not
deere
mistresse
.
Both
.
My
Lord
,
we
are
ready
for
the
businesse
.
Dor.
You
two
!
whom
I
like
fosterd
children
fed
,
And
lengthen'd
out
your
starued
life
with
bread
:
You
be
my
hangman
!
whom
when
vp
the
ladder
Death
hald
you
to
be
strangled
,
I
fetcht
downe
Clothd
you
,
and
warmd
you
,
you
two
my
tormentors
.
Both
.
Yes
,
use
.
Dor.
Diuine
powers
pardon
you
.
Sap.
Strike
.
strike
at
her
:
Angelo
kneeling
holds
her
fast
.
Theo.
Beate
out
her
braines
—
,
Dor.
Receive
me
you
bright
Angels
.
Sap.
Faster
slaues
.
Spun.
Faster
:
I
am
out
of
breath
I'am
sure
:
if
I
were
to
beate
a
bucke
,
I
can
strike
no
harder
.
Hir.
O
mine
armes
,
I
cannot
list'em
to
my
head
.
Dor.
Ioy
aboue
ioys
,
are
my
tormentors
wearie
In
torturing
me
,
and
in
my
suffrings
I
fainting
in
no
linbe
:
●●●●anto
strike
home
And
feast
your
fury
full
.
Theo.
These
dogs
are
ours
.
come
from
his
seate
.
Which
snarle
,
yet
bite
not
:
see
my
Lord
,
her
face
Has
more
bewitching
beauty
then
before
,
Prowd
whore
:
it
smiles
,
cannot
an
eye
shart
out
With
these
.
Hir.
No
sir
,
not
the
bridge
of
her
nose
fall
,
tis
full
of
Iron
worke
.
Sap.
Lets
view
the
oudgols
,
are
they
not
counterfeit
.
Ang.
There
fixe
thine
eye
still
,
thy
glorious
crown
must
come
Not
from
soft
pleasure
,
but
by
martyrdome
,
There
fixe
thine
eye
still
,
when
we
next
do
meet
,
Not
thornes
,
but
roses
shall
beare
vp
thy
feet
:
There
fixe
thine
eye
still
.
exit
.
Enter
Harpax
sneaking
.
Dor.
Euer
,
euer
,
euer
.
Theo.
Wee
are
mock'd
,
these
bats
haue
power
downe
to
fell
gyants
,
yether
skin
is
not
fear'd
.
Sap.
What
rogues
are
these
.
Theo.
Cannot
these
force
a
shreeke
.
beats
them
.
Spun.
Oh!
a
woman
has
one
of
my
ribs
,
and
now
fiue
more
are
broken
.
Theo.
Cannot
this
make
her
roare
.
beates
tother
he
roares
Sa.
Who
hir'd
these
slaues
?
what
are
they
?
Spun.
We
serue
that
noble
Gentleman
there
,
he
entisde
vs
to
this
dry-beating
,
oh
for
one
halfe
pot
.
Har.
My
seruants
!
two
base
rogues
,
&
sometimes
seruants
To
her
and
for
that
cause
forbeare
to
hurt
her
.
Sap.
Vnbinde
her
,
hang
vp
these
.
Theo.
Hang
the
two
hounds
on
the
next
tree
.
Hir.
Hang
vs
!
master
Harpax
,
what
a
diuell
shall
we
be
thus
vsde
.
Har.
What
bandogs
but
you
two
wud
worry
a
woman
!
Your
mistessell
but
clapt
you
,
you
flew
on
:
Say
I
should
get
your
liues
,
each
rascall
begger
Would
when
he
met
you
,
cry
,
out
helhounds
,
traitors
Spit
at
you
,
fling
durt
at
you
,
and
no
woman
Euer
endure
your
fight
:
tis
your
best
course
(
Now
had
you
secret
kniues
)
to
stab
your selues
,
But
since
you
haue
not
,
goe
and
be
hang'd
.
Hir.
I
thanke
you
.
Har.
I
is
your
best
course
.
Theo.
Why
stay
they
trifling
here
?
To
gallowes
drag'em
by
the
heeles
:
away
.
Spun.
By
the
heeles
!
no
sir
,
wee
haue
legges
to
doe
vs
that
seruice
.
Hir.
I
,
I
,
if
no
woman
can
endure
my
sight
,
away
with
me
.
exeunt
.
Har.
Dispatch'em
.
Spun.
The
diuell
dispatch
thee
.
exit
.
Sap.
Death
this
day
ride
in
triumph
,
Theophilus
.
See
this
witch
made
away
to
.
Theo.
My
soule
thirst
for
it
,
Come
,
I
my selfe
,
thy
hangmans
part
could
play
.
Dor.
Oh
hasten
me
to
my
coronation
day
.
exeunt
Enter
Antoninus
,
Macrinus
,
seruants
.
Anton.
Is
this
the
place
where
vertue
is
to
suffer
,
And
heauenly
beauty
leauing
this
base
earth
,
To
make
a
glad
returne
from
whence
it
came
,
Is
it
Macrinus
?
a
scaffold
thrust
forth
Mac.
By
this
preparation
You
well
may
rest
assurd
that
Dorethea
This
houre
is
to
die
here
.
Anton.
Then
with
her
dies
The
abstract
of
all
sweetnesse
that's
in
woman
,
Set
me
downe
friend
,
that
ere
the
iron
hand
Of
death
close
vp
mine
eyes
,
they
may
at
once
Take
my
last
leaue
both
of
this
light
,
and
her
:
For
she
being
gone
,
the
glorious
Sun
himselfe
To
me's
Cymerian
darkenesse
.
Macr.
Strange
affection
!
Cupid
once
more
hath
chang'd
his
shafts
with
death
,
And
kills
in
stead
of
giuing
life
.
Anton.
Nay
weepe
not
,
Though
teares
of
friendship
be
a
soueraigne
balme
,
On
me
they
are
cast
a
way
:
it
is
decreed
That
I
must
die
with
her
,
our
clew
of
life
Was
spun
together
.
Macr.
Yet
sir
tis
my
wonder
That
you
who
hearing
onely
what
she
suffers
,
Pertake
of
all
her
tortures
,
yet
will
be
To
adde
to
your
calamitie
,
an
eye
witnesse
Of
her
last
Tragicke
scene
,
which
must
pierce
deeper
And
make
the
wound
more
desperate
.
Anton.
O
Macrinus
,
Twould
linger
out
my
torment
selfe
,
not
kill
me
,
Which
is
the
end
I
aime
at
,
being
to
die
to
.
What
instrument
more
glorious
can
I
wish
for
,
Then
what
is
made
sharpe
by
my
constant
loue
And
true
affection
.
It
may
be
the
duty
And
loyall
seruice
with
which
I
pursude
her
,
And
seald
it
with
my
death
,
will
be
remembred
Among
her
blessed
actions
,
and
what
honor
Can
I
desire
beyond
it
?
Enter
a
guard
bringing
in
Dorothea
,
a
headsman
before
her
,
followed
by
Theophitus
,
Sapritius
,
Harpax
.
See
she
comes
,
How
sweet
her
innocence
appeares
,
more
like
To
heauen
it selfe
then
any
sacrifice
That
can
be
offerd
to
it
.
By
my
hopes
Of
ioyes
hereafter
,
the
sight
makes
me
doubtfull
In
my
beleefe
,
nor
can
I
thinke
our
gods
Are
good
,
or
to
be
seru'd
,
that
take
delight
In
offrings
of
this
kinde
,
that
to
maintaine
Their
power
,
do
face
the
master
peece
of
nature
,
Which
they
themselues
come
short
of
she
ascends
,
An
euery
step
raises
her
neerer
heauen
.
What
god
so ere
thou
art
that
most
enioy
her
,
Receiue
in
her
a
boundlesse
happinesse
Sap.
You
are
too
blame
To
let
him
come
abrode
.
Macr.
It
was
his
will
,
And
we
were
left
to
serue
him
,
not
command
him
,
Anton.
Good
sir
be
not
offended
,
nor
deny
My
last
of
pleasures
in
this
happy
obiect
That
I
shall
ere
be
blest
with
.
Theo.
Now
prowd
contemner
Of
vs
and
of
our
gods
,
tremble
to
thinke
It
is
not
in
the
power
thou
seru'st
,
to
saue
thee
.
Not
all
the
riches
of
the
sea
increasd
By
violent
shipwrackes
,
nor
the
vnsearched
mines
Mammons
vnknowne
exchequer
shall
redeeme
thee
.
And
therefore
hauing
first
with
horror
weigh'd
What
tis
to
die
,
and
to
die
yong
,
to
part
with
All
pleasures
,
and
delights
:
lastly
,
to
goe
Where
all
Antipathies
to
comfort
dwell
Furies
behind
,
about
thee
,
and
before
thee
,
And
to
adde
to
affliction
the
remembrance
Of
the
Elizian
ioyes
thou
might'st
haue
tasted
,
Hadst
thou
not
turnd
Apostata
to
those
gods
That
so
reward
their
seruants
,
let
despayre
Preuent
the
hangmans
sword
,
and
on
this
scaffold
Make
thy
first
entrance
into
hell
.
Anton.
She
smiles
,
Vnmou'd
by
Mars
,
as
if
she
were
assur'd
Death
looking
on
her
constancy
would
forget
The
vse
of
his
ineuitable
hand
.
Theo.
Derided
to
?
dispatch
I
say
.
Dor.
Thou
foole
That
gloriest
in
hauing
power
to
rauish
A
trifle
from
me
I
am
weary
of
:
What
is
this
life
?
to
me
not
worth
a
thought
Or
if
to
bee
esteemd
,
'tis
that
I
loose
it
To
win
a
better
,
eu'n
thy
realice
serues
To
me
but
as
a
ladder
to
mount
vp
To
such
a
height
of
happinesse
where
I
shall
Looke
downe
with
scorne
on
thee
,
and
on
the
world
,
Where
circl'd
with
true
pleasures
,
plac'd
aboue
The
reach
of
death
or
time
,
twill
be
my
glory
To
thinke
at
what
an
,
easie
price
I
bought
it
.
There's
a
perpetuall
spring
,
perpetuall
youth
,
No
ioynt
benumming
cold
,
nor
scorching
heate
,
Famine
nor
age
haue
any
being
there
:
Forget
for
shame
your
Tempe
,
burie
in
Obliuion
,
your
fainde
your
Hesperian
Orchards
The
Golden
fruite
kept
by
the
watchfull
Dragon
Which
did
require
Hercules
to
get
it
Compar'd
with
what
growes
in
all
plenty
there
,
Deserues
not
to
be
nam'd
.
The
power
I
serue
Laughs
at
your
happy
Arabie
,
or
the
Elizian
shades
,
for
he
hath
made
his
bowers
Better
indeed
then
you
can
fancy
yours
.
Anton.
O
take
me
thither
with
you
.
Doro.
Trace
my
steps
And
be
assurd
you
shall
.
Sap.
With
mine
owne
hands
He
rather
stop
that
little
breath
is
left
thee
,
And
rob
thy
killing
feauer
.
Theo.
By
no
means
,
Let
him
go
with
her
,
do
seduc'd
yong
man
,
And
waite
vpon
thy
saint
in
death
,
do
,
do
,
And
when
you
come
to
that
imagind
place
,
That
place
of
all
delights
,
pray
you
obserue
me
,
And
meete
those
cursed
things
I
once
call'd
daughters
,
Whom
I
haue
sent
as
harbingers
before
you
,
If
there
be
any
truth
in
your
religion
,
In
thankfulnesse
to
me
that
with
care
hasten
Your
iourney
thither
,
pray
send
me
some
Small
pittance
of
that
curious
fruit
you
bost
of
.
Ant.
Grant
that
I
may
goe
with
her
,
and
I
will
.
Sap.
Wilt
thou
in
thy
last
minute
dam
thy selfe
?
Theo.
The
gates
to
hell
are
open
.
Dor.
Know
thou
tyrant
Thou
agent
for
the
diuell
thy
great
master
Though
thou
art
most
vnworthy
to
tast
of
it
,
I
can
and
will
.
Enter
Angelo
in
the
Angels
habit
.
Har.
Oh!
mountaines
fall
vpon
me
,
Or
hide
me
in
the
bottome
of
the
deepe
,
Where
light
may
neuer
find
me
.
Theo.
Whats
the
matter
?
Sap.
This
is
prodigious
,
and
confirms
her
witch
craft
.
Theo.
Harpax
my
Harpax
speake
.
Har.
I
dare
not
stay
,
Should
I
but
heare
her
once
more
I
were
lost
,
Some
whirle
winde
snatch
me
from
this
cursed
place
,
To
which
compar'd
(
and
with
what
now
I
suffer
)
Hels
torments
are
sweet
slumbers
.
exit
Harpax
Sap.
Sap.
Follow
him
.
Theo.
He
is
distracted
,
and
I
must
not
loose
him
,
Thy
charms
vpon
my
seruant
cursed
witch
,
Giues
thee
a
short
repricue
,
let
her
not
die
Till
my
returne
.
exeunt
Sap.
and
Theo
Anton.
She
minds
him
not
,
what
obiect
Is
her
eye
fixd
on
?
Macr.
I
see
nothing
.
Anton.
Marke
her
.
Doro.
Thou
glorious
minister
of
the
power
I
serue
,
For
thou
art
more
then
mortall
,
ist
for
me
Poore
sinner
,
thou
art
pleasd
a
while
to
leaue
Thy
heauenly
habitation
?
and
vouchsafest
Though
glorified
,
to
take
my
seruants
habit
,
For
put
off
thy
diuinitie
,
so
lookd
My
louely
Angelo
.
Ange.
Know
I
am
the
same
,
And
still
the
seruant
to
your
pietie
,
Your
zealous
prayers
and
pious
deeds
first
wonne
me
(
But
'twas
by
his
command
to
whom
you
sent
'em
)
To
guide
your
steps
.
I
tride
your
charitie
,
When
in
a
beggers
shape
you
tooke
me
vp
And
clothd
my
naked
limbes
,
and
after
fed
(
As
you
beleeu'd
)
my
famishd
mouth
.
Learne
all
By
your
example
to
looke
on
the
poore
With
gentle
eyes
,
for
in
such
habits
often
Angels
desire
an
Almes
.
I
neuer
left
you
,
Nor
will
I
now
,
for
I
am
sent
to
carry
Your
pure
and
innocent
soule
to
ioyes
eternall
,
Your
martyrdome
once
sufferd
,
and
before
it
Aske
any
thing
from
me
,
and
rest
assur'd
You
shall
obtaine
it
Doro.
I
am
largely
payd
For
all
my
torments
,
since
I
find
such
grace
Grant
that
the
loue
of
this
yong
man
to
me
,
In
which
he
languisheth
to
death
,
may
be
Chang'd
to
the
loue
of
heauen
,
Ange.
I
will
performe
it
.
And
in
that
instant
when
the
sword
seta
free
Your
happy
soule
his
shall
haue
libertie
.
Is
there
ought
else
?
Doro.
For
proofe
that
I
foregiue
My
persecutor
,
who
in
scornd
desir'd
To
tast
of
that
most
sacred
fruite
I
go
to
After
my
death
as
sent
from
me
,
be
pleasd
To
giue
him
of
it
.
Ange.
Willingly
deere
Mistresse
.
Mac.
I
am
amaz'd
Anton.
I
feels
a
holy
fire
That
yeelds
a
comfortable
heate
within
me
.
I
am
quite
alterd
from
the
thing
I
was
.
See
I
can
stand
,
and
goe
alone
,
thus
kneels
To
heauenly
Dorothea
,
touch
her
hand
With
a
religious
kisse
.
Enter
Sapritius
and
Theophilus
.
Sapr.
He
is
well
now
,
But
will
not
be
drawne
back
.
Theoph.
It
matters
not
,
We
can
discharge
this
works
without
his
helpe
:
But
see
your
sonne
.
Sapr
,
Villaine
Anton.
Sir
I
be
you
,
Being
so
neere
our
ends
diuoroe
vs
not
.
Theo.
He
quickly
make
a
separation
of
.
Hast
thou
ought
else
to
say
?
Dorothea
.
Nothing
but
blame
Thy
tardinesse
in
sending
me
to
rest
,
My
peace
is
made
with
heauen
,
to
which
my
soule
Begins
to
take
her
flight
,
strike
,
O.
strike
quickly
,
And
though
you
are
vn
mou'd
to
be
my
death
Hereafter
when
my
story
shall
be
read
,
As
they
were
present
now
,
the
hearers
shall
Say
this
of
Dorothea
with
wet
eyes
She
liu'd
a
virgin
,
and
a
virgin
dies
.
her
head
strucke
off
Anton.
O
take
my
soule
along
to
waite
on
mine
.
Macr.
Your
sonne
sinks
to
.
Antonius
sinkes
Sap.
Already
dead
.
The.
Die
all
.
That
are
or
fauour
this
accursed
Sect
,
I
triumph
in
their
ends
,
and
will
raise
vp
A
hill
of
their
dead
Karkatses
,
to
or
clooke
The
Pyrenean
Hils
,
but
ile
roote
out
.
These
superstitious
fooles
,
and
leaue
the
World
No
name
of
Christian
.
Loud
Musicke
,
exit
Angelo
leauing
first
laid
his
hand
vp
.
on
their
mouthes
.
Sap.
Ha
,
hauenly
Musicke
.
Mac.
Tis
in
the
ayre
.
The.
Illusions
of
the
Diuell
Wrought
by
some
one
of
her
Religion
.
That
faine
would
make
her
death
a
miracle
,
It
frights
not
me
:
because
he
is
your
sonne
Let
him
haue
buriall
,
but
let
her
body
Be
cast
forth
with
contempt
in
some
high
way
,
And
be
to
Vultures
and
to
Dogs
a
prey
.
Exeunt
.
The
end
of
the
fourth
Act
.