Ask but the thriving'st harlot in cold blood, Hip. O brother, you forget our business. Moth. I'll give you this, that one I never knew Hip. Commend us in all virtue to our sister. Vin. Ay, for the love of heaven, to that true maid. Vin. Why, that was motherly said.1 Castiza seems to consent to her Mother's wicked motion.2 CASTIZA. MOTHER. Cast. Now, mother, you have wrought with me so strongly, That, what for my advancement, as to calm The trouble of your tongue, I am content. Moth. Content, to what? Cast. To do as you have wish'd me; To prostitute my breast to the duke's son, Moth. I hope you will not so. Cast. Hope you I will not? That's not the hope you look to be saved in. Moth. Truth, but it is. Cast. Do not deceive yourself. I am as you, e'en out of marble wrought. What would you now? are ye not pleas'd yet with me? 1 The reality and life of this Dialogue passes any scenical illusion I ever felt. I never read it but my ears tingle, and I feel a hot blush spread my cheeks, as if I were presently about to "proclaim" some such "malefactions" of myself, as the Brothers here rebuke in their unnatural parent; in words more keen and dagger-like than those which Hamlet speaks to his mother. Such power has the passion of shame truly personated, not only to "strike guilty creatures unto the soul," but to "appal" even those that are "free." [Five lines omitted.] You shall not wish me to be more lascivious, Than I intend to be. Moth. Strike not me cold. Cast. How often have you charg'd me on your blessing O let my breath revive it to a flame. Put not all out with woman's wilful follies. I am recover'd of that foul disease That haunts too many mothers; kind, forgive me, My words prevail'd, when they were wickedness, In three hours' reading, to untwist so much Of the black serpent, as you wound about me! Moth. "Tis unfruitful held, tedious, to repeat what's past. I'm now your present mother. Cast. Pish, now 'tis too late. Moth. Bethink again, thou know'st not what thou say'st. Cast. No! deny advancement! treasure! the duke's son ! Moth. O see, I spoke those words, and now they poison me. What will the deed do then? Advancement! true; as high as shame can pitch! Or could build by the purchase of her sin An hospital to keep their bastards in? The duke's son! Oh; when women are young courtiers, To know the miseries most harlots taste, Thou'dst wish thyself unborn when thou'rt unchaste. Cast. O mother, let me twine about your neck, And kiss you till my soul melt on your lips : I did but this to try you. Moth. O, speak truth. Cast. Indeed I did not; for no tongue hath force To alter me from honest: If maidens would, men's words could have no power; VOL. IV.-11 A virgin's honour is a chrystal tower, Which being weak is guarded with good spirits; Until she basely yields, no ill inherits. Moth. O happy child! faith, and thy birth, hath saved me, 'Mongst thousand daughters, happiest of all others; Buy thou a glass for maids, and I for mothers. Evil Report after Death. What is it to have A flattering false insculption on a tomb, [Act iv., Sc. 4.1] And in men's hearts reproach? the 'bowel'd corpse May be sear'd in, but (with free tongue I speak) The faults of great men through their sear-clothes break. Bastards. O what a grief 'tis that a man should live But once in the world, and then to live a Bastard! Half damn'd in the conception by the justice Too nice respects in Courtship. It is as easy way unto a duchess As to a hatted dame, if her love answer : [Act i., Sc. 2.] [Act i., Sc. 2.] [Act i., Sc. 2.] THE DEVIL'S LAW CASE; OR, WHEN WOMEN GO TO Con. Sir; my love to you has proclaim'd you one, [With the omissions named, the whole Scene.] At Padua together, and have long To the world's eye shewn like friends. Was it hearty on your part to me? Con. You are false To the good thought I held of you; and now, Erc. Compare her beauty and my youth together, No miracle at all. Con. Yes, it will prove Prodigious to you: I must stay your voyage. Con. "Tis a seal From heaven to do it, since you'd ravish from me By practice that had giv'n you now for dead You must fight with me. Erc. I will, Sir. Con. And instantly. Erc. I will haste before you. Point whither. Con. Why, you speak nobly; and, for this fair dealing, Were the rich jewel (which we vary for) A thing to be divided, by my life, I would be well content to give you half: But since 'tis vain to think we can be friends, "Tis needful one of us be ta'en away From being the other's enemy. Erc. Yet, methinks, This looks not like a quarrel. Con. Not a quarrel ! Erc. You have not apparelled your fury well; It goes too plain, like a scholar. Con. It is an ornament, Makes it more terrible; and you shall find it, By discreet valour; because I do not strike you, Erc. You promise well to yourself. Con. None, for fear of prevention. So whether our time calls us to live or die, And true Italians. Erc. For that, let me embrace you. Con. Methinks, being an Italian, I trust you But your jealousy gave that embrace, to try Erc. No, believe me. I take your heart to be sufficient proof I am arm'd with. Con. You deal equally.1 Sitting for a Picture. Must you have my Picture? You will enjoin me to a strange punishment. In half an hour's sitting-in hot weather— The painting on their face has been so mellow, [Act ii., Sc. 1.2] 1I have selected this scene as the model of a well-managed and gentlemanlike difference. 2[Dyce's edition.] |