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Enter FERNANDO, BIANCA, and MORONA. Bian. My lord the duke.
Duke. Bianca! ha, how is't? How is't, Bianca? what, Fernando! come, Shall's shake hands, sirs ?—'faith, this is kindly
done. Here's three as one; welcome, dear wife, sweet
friend! D'Av. I do not like this now; it shews scurvily to me.
[Aside to Fior. Bian. My lord, we have a suit, Your friend
and I Duke. She puts my friend before, most kindly still.
[Aside. Bian. Must joinDuke. What, must? Bian. My lord ! Duke. Must join, you say
Bian. That you will please to set Mauruccio
D'Av. I shall, my lord.
[Exit. Mor. I humbly thank your grace.
Fern. And, royal sir, since Julia and Colona, Chief actors in Ferentes' tragic end, Were, through their ladies' mediation, Freed by your gracious pardon: I, in pity, Tender'd this widow's friendless misery; For whose reprieve I shall, in humblest duty, Be ever thankful.
Re-enter D'Avolos with MAURUCCIO in rags,
and Gracopo weeping. Maur. Come you my learned counsel, do not
roar; If I must hang, why then lament therefore;? You may rejoice, and both, no doubt, be great To serve your prince, when I am turn'd worms '
meat. I fear my lands, and all I have, is begg’d.8 Else, woe is me, why should I be so ragg’d?
D'Av. Come on, sir, the duke stays for you.
Maur. O how my stomach doth begin to puke, When I do hear that only word, the duke! Duke. You, sir, look on that woman; are you
? Why then lament therefore.] This in Jonson is a sneer at Shakspeare; in Shakspeare, and every other writer, it is a smile at Marlow.
My lands, and all I have, is begg’d.] As a condemned person : there were greedy courtiers enough in those days to scramble for the property of a falling man, even before the period of legal condemnation.
If we remit your body from the jail,
heart. Mor. Yes, I warrant your grace, he is content. Duke. Why, foolish man, hast thou so soon
Gia. (To Maur.) Phew, sir, do not stand upon that; that's a matter of nothing, you know. .
Maur. Nay, an't shall please your good grace, and it come to that, I care not; as good men as I have lain in foul sheets, I am sure; the linen has not been much the worse for the wearing a little : I will have her with all
heart. Duke. And shalt. Fernando, thou shalt have
To join their hands; put them together, friend. Bian. Yes, do, my lord; bring you the bride
groom hither, I'll give the bride myself,
D'Av. Here's argument to jealousy, as good as drink to the dropsy; she will share any disgrace with him : I could not wish it better. [Aside.
Duke. Even so; well, do it.
Fern. Here, Mauruccio; Long live a happy couple !
He and Bian. join their hands. Duke. 'Tis enough; Now know our pleasure henceforth : 'tis our will, If ever thou, Mauruccio, or thy wife, Be seen within a dozen miles o'th' court, We will recal our mercy; no entreat Shall warrant thee a minute of thy life: We'll have no servile slavery of lust Shall breathe near us; dispatch, and get ye hence. Bianca, come with me.-Oh my cleft soul!
[Exeunt Duke and Bian. Maur. How's that? must I come no more near the court?
Gia. O pitiful! not near the court, sir?
D'Av. Not by a dozen miles, indeed, sir. Your only course I can advise you, is to pass to Naples, and set up a house of carnality; there are very fair and frequent suburbs, and you need not fear the contagion of any pestilent disease, for the worst is very proper to the place.
Fern. 'Tis a strange sentence.
Fior. 'Tis, and sudden too,
D'Av. Will you go, sir?
Mor. What matter is it, sweet-heart! fear nothing, love, you shall have new change of apparel, good diet, wholesome attendance; and we will live like pigeons, my lord.
Maur. Wilt thou forsake me, Giacopo?
Gia. I forsake you! no, not as long as I have a whole ear on my head, come what will come.
Fior. Mauruccio, you did once proffer true love To me, but since you are more thriftier sped, For old affection's sake here take this gold; Spend it for
sake. Fern. Madam, you do nobly; And that's for me, Mauruccio.
[They give him money. D'Av. Will you go, sir?
Maur. Yes, I will go, and humbly thank your lordship and ladyship. Pavy, sweet Pavy, farewell! Come, wife, come, Giacopo; Now is the time that we away must lag, And march in pomp with baggage and with bag. O poor Mauruccio! what hast thou misdone, To end thy life when life was new begun? Adieu to all; for lords and ladies see My woeful plight, and squires of low degree! D'Av. Away, away, sirs
[Exeunt all but Fior. and Fern. Fior. My lord Fernando. Fern. Madam.
Fior. Do you note
Fern. Not I, in troth.