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Act IVScene VI. Another room in the same.
Scene VI. Another room in the same.
[Enter] Surly and Dame Pliant
Sur. Lady, you see into what hands you are fall`n;
`Mongst what a nest of villains! an how near
Your honour was t`have catch`d a certain clap,
Through your credulity, had I but been
So punctually forward, as place, time,
And other circumstances would ha` made a man;
For you`re a handsome woman: would you were wise too!
I am a gentleman come here disguis`d,
Only to find the knaveries of this citadel;
And where I might have wrong`d your honour, and have not,
I claim some interest in your love. You are,
They say, a widow, rich; and I`m a bachelor,
Worth nought: your fortunes may make me a man,
As mine ha` preserv`d you a woman. Think upon it,
And whether I have deserv`d you or no.
Dame P. I will, sir.
Sur. And for these household-rogues, let me alone
To treat with them.
[Enter Subtle]
Sub. How doth my noble Diego,
And my dear madam countess? Hath the count
Been courteous, lady? liberal and open?
Donzel,^1 methinks you look melancholic,
I do not like the dulness of your eye;
It hath a heavy cast, `tis upsee Dutch,^2
And says you are lumpish.
Be lighter, and I will make your pockets so.
[Footnote 1: Diminutive of Don.]
[Footnote 2: As if you had been drinking heavy Dutch beer.]
He falls to picking of them.
Sur. [Throws open his cloak.] Will you, don bawd and
pickpurse? [Strikes him down.] How now! Reel you?
Stand up, sir, you shall find, since I am so heavy,
I`ll give you equal weight.
Sub. Help! murder!
Sur. No, Sir,
There`s no such thing intended. A good cart^3
And a clean whip shall ease you of that fear.
I am the Spanish don that should be cozened,
Do you see? Cozened? Where`s your Captain Face,
That parcel^4 - broker, and whole-bawd, all rascal?
Referring to the punishment inflicted on bawds.
[Footnote 3: Carriage.]
[Footnote 4: Part.]
[Enter Face in his uniform]
Face. How, Surly!
Sur. O, make your approach, good captain.
I have found from whence your copper rings and spoons
Come now, wherewith you cheat abroad in taverns.
`Twas here you learn`d t`anoint your boot with brimstone,
Then rub men`s gold on`t for a kind of touch,
And say `twas naught, when you had changed the colour,
That you might ha`t for nothing. And this doctor,
Your sooty, smoky-bearded compeer, he
Will close you so much gold, in a bolt`s-head,
And, on a turn, convey i` the stead another
With sublim`d mercury, that shall burst in the heat,
And fly out all in fumo! Then weeps Mammon;
Then swoons his worship [Face slips out.] Or, he is the Faustus,
That casteth figures^5 and can conjure, cures
Plagues, piles, and pox, by the ephemerides,^6
And holds intelligence with all the bawds
And midwives of three shires: while you send in -
Captain! - what! is he gone? - damsels with child,
Wives that are barren, or the waiting-maid
With the green sickness. [Seizes Subtle as he is retiring.]
- Nay, sir, you must tarry,
Though he be scap`d; and answer by the ears, sir.
[Footnote 5: Horoscopes.]
[Footnote 6: Astrological almanacs.]
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