It is a wise child now that knows her mother.
Vin. Most right, i'faith.

Moth. I owe your cheek my hand

For that presumption now, but I'll forget it;
Come, you shall leave those childish 'haviours,
And understand your time.

What will you be a girl?

(Aside.)

Fortunes flow to you.

If all fear'd drowning that spy waves ashore,

Gold would grow rich, and all the merchants poor.

Cast. It is a pretty saying of a wicked one, but me

thinks now

It does not shew so well out of your mouth;

Better in his.

Vin. Faith, bad enough in both,
Were I in earnest, as I'll seem no less.
I wonder, lady, your own mother's words
Cannot be taken, nor stand in full force.
'Tis honesty you urge; what's honesty?

(Aside.)

'Tis but heaven's beggar; and what woman is so foolish to keep honesty,

And be not able to keep herself? no,

Times are grown wiser, and will keep less charge.

A maid that has small portion now, intends

To break up house, and live upon her friends.
How blest are you! you have happiness alone;
Others must fall to thousands, you to one;
Sufficient in himself to make your forehead
Dazzle the world with jewels, and petitionary people

Start at your presence.

O think upon the pleasure of the palace!

Secured ease and state! the stirring meats,

Ready to move out of the dishes, that e'en now quicken when they're eaten !

'em!

Banquets abroad by torch-light! music! sports!
Bare-headed vassals, that had ne'er the fortune
To keep on their own hats, but let horns wear
Nine coaches waiting-hurry, hurry, 'hurry—
Cast. Aye, to the devil-

Vin. Aye, to the devil! to the duke, by my faith.

Moth.

Moth. Aye, to the duke. Daughter, you'd scorn to think Of the devil, and you were there once.

Vin. Who'd sit at home in a neglected room,
Dealing her short-liv'd beauty to the pictures,
That are as useless as old men, when those
Poorer in face and fortune than herself
Walk with a hundred acres on their backs,
Fair meadows cut into green fore-parts?-
Fair trees, those comely foretops of the field,
Are cut to maintain head-tires-much untold---
All thrives but chastity, she lies cold.

Nay, shall I come nearer to you? mark but this:
Why are there so few honest women, but because 'tis the
poorer profession? that's accounted best, that's
best follow'd; least in trade, least in fashion;
and that's not honesty, believe it; and do but note
the low and dejected price of it:

Lose but a pearl, we search and cannot brook it:
But that once gone, who is so mad to look it ?
Moth. Troth, he says true.

Cast. False: I defy you both.

I have endur'd you with an ear of fire;
Your tongues have struck hot irons on my face.
Mother, come from that poisonous woman there.
Moth. Where?

Cast. Do you not see her? she's too inward then.
Slave, perish in thy office. You heavens please,
Henceforth to make the mother a disease,

Which first begins with me; yet I've outgone you.

Vin. O angels, clap your wings upon the skies, And give this virgin crystal plaudities!

[Exit.

(Aside.)

Moth. Peevish, coy, foolish!--but return this answer, My lord shall be most welcome, when his pleasure Conducts him this way; I will sway mine own;

Women with women can work best alone.

[Exit.

Vin. Forgive me, heaven, to call my mother wicked!

O lessen not my days upon the earth.

I cannot honor her.

The

The Brothers, Vindici and Hippolito, threaten their Mother with Death for consenting to the Dishonor of their Sister.

Vin. O thou for whom no name is bad enough.

Moth. What mean my sons? what, will you murther me?

Vin. Wicked unnatural parent!

Hip. Fiend of women!

Moth. Oh! are sons turn'd monsters! help!

Vin. In vain.

Moth. Are you so barbarous to set iron nipples Upon the breast that gave you suck?

Vin. That breast

Is turn'd to quarled poison.

Moth. Cut not your days for't. Am not I your mother? Vin. Thou dost usurp that title now by fraud,

For in that shell of mother breeds a bawd.

Moth. A bawd! O name far loathsomer than hell!
Hip. It should be so, knew'st thou thy office well.
Moth. I hate it.

Vin. Ah, is it possible, you powers on high,
That women should dissemble when they die?
Moth. Dissemble!

Vin. Did not the duke's son direct

A fellow of the world's condition hither,

That did corrupt all that was good in thee?

Made thee uncivilly forget thyself,

And work our sister to his purpose?

Moth. Who I?

That had been monstrous. I defy that man
For any such intent. None lives so pure,
But shall be soil'd with slander.

Good son, believe it not.

Vin. Oh, I'm in doubt

Whether I am myself or no

Stay, let me look again upon this face.

Who shall be saved when mothers have no grace?

(Resumes his Disguise.)

Hip. "Twould make one half despair.

Vin. I was the man.

Defy me now, let's see, do't modestly.

Moth. O hell unto my soul!

Vin. In that disguise, I, sent from the duke's son,
Tried you, and found you base metal,

As any villain might have done.

Moth. O no,

No tongue but yours could have bewitch'd me so.
Vin. O nimble in damnation, quick in turn!

There is no devil could strike fire so soon.

I am confuted in a word.

Moth. Oh sons,

Forgive me, to myself I'll prove more true;
You that should honor me, I kneel to you.

Vin. A mother to give aim to her own daughter!
Hip. True, brother; how far beyond nature 'tis,
Though many mothers do it.

Vin. Nay, and you draw tears once, go you to bed.
Wet will make iron blush and change to red.

Brother it rains, 'twill spoil your dagger, house it.
Hip. Tis done.

Vin. I'faith 'tis a sweet shower, it does much good.
The fruitful grounds and meadows of her soul

Have been long dry: pour down, thou blessed dew.
Rise, mother; troth this shower has made you higher.
Moth. O you heavens!

Take this infectious spot out of my soul;

I'll rince it in seven waters of mine eyes.
Make my tears salt enough to taste of grace.
weep is to our sex naturally given;

Το

But to weep truly, that's a gift from heaven.

Vin. Nay, I'll kiss you now. Kiss her, brother:
Let's marry her to our souls, wherein's no lust,
And honorably love her.

Hip. Let it be..

Vin. For honest women are so seld and rare, Tis good to cherish those poor few that are. you of easy wax! do but imagine

Now the disease has left you, how leprously

That

That office would have cling'd unto your forehead!
All mothers that had any graceful hue,

Would have worn masks to hide their face at you.

It would have grown to this, at your foul name
Green-color'd maids would have turn'd red with shame.
Hip. And then our sister, full of hire and baseness
Vin. There had been boiling lead again!

The duke's son's great concubine!

A drab of state, a cloth-o'-silver slut,

To have her train borne up, and her soul trail in the dirt!

Hip. To be great, miserable; to be rich, eternally wretched.

Vin. O common madness!

Ask but the thriving'st harlot in cold blood,
She'd give the world to make her honor good.
Perhaps you'll say, but only to the duke's son
In private; why, she first begins with one
Who afterwards to thousands proves a whore:
Break ice in one place, it will crack in more.
Moth. Most certainly applied.

Hip. O brother, you forget our business.
Vin. And well remember'd; joy's a subtil elf;
I think man's happiest when he forgets himself.
Farewell, once dry, now holy-water'd mead;
Our hearts wear feathers, that before wore lead.
Moth. I'll give you this, that one I never knew
Plead better for, and 'gainst the devil, than you,
Vin. You make me proud on't.

Hip. Commend us in all virtue to our sister.
Vin. Ay, for the love of heaven, to that true maid.
Moth. With my best words.

Vin. Why that was motherly said.64

64 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