Scena. j.
DVLIPO. EROSTRATO.
I Thinke if I had as many eyes as Argus, I coulde not haue sought a man more narrowly in euery stréete and euery by lane,
there are not many gentlemen, scholers, nor Marchauntes in the Citie of Ferrara, but I haue mette with them, excepte him, peraduenture he is come home an other way:
but looke where he commeth at the last.
Ero.
In good time haue I spied my good maister.
Du.
For the loue of God call me Dulipo, not master, maintayne the credite that thou haste hitherto kepte, and let me alone.
Ero.
Yet sir let me sometimes do my duetie vnto you, especially where no body heareth.
Du.
Yea, but so long the Parat vseth to crie knappe in sporte, that at the last she calleth
hir maister knaue in earnest: so long you will vse to call me master, that at the
last we shall be heard. What newes?
Ero.
Yea excellent, we haue as good as won the wager.
Du.
Oh, how happie were I if this were true.
Ero.
Heare you me, yesternight in the euening I walked out, and founde Pasiphilo, and with small entreating I had him home to supper, where by suche meanes as I vsed,
he became my great friend, and tolde me the whole order of our aduersaries determination:
yea and what Damon doth intende to do also, and hath promised me that frō time to time, what he can
espie he will bring me word of it.
Du.
I can not tel whether you know him or no, he is not to trust vnto, a very flattering
and a lying knaue.
Ero.
I know him very well, he can not deceiue me, and this that he hath tolde me I know
must néedes be true.
Du.
And what was it in effect?
Ero.
That Damon had purposed to giue his daughter in mariage to this doctor, vpon the dower that
he hath profered.
Du.
Are these your good newes? your excellent newes?
Ero.
Stay awhile, you will vnderstande me before you heare me.
Ero.
I answered to that, I was ready to make hir the lyke dower.
Ero.
Abide, you heare not the worst yet.
Du.
O God, is there any worsse behinde?
Ero.
Worsse? why what assurance coulde you suppose that I might make without some speciall
consent from Philogono my father?
Du.
Nay you can tell, you are better scholer than I.
Ero.
In déede you haue lost your time: for the books that you tosse now a dayes, treate
of smal science.
Du.
Leaue thy iesting, and procéede.
Ero.
I sayde further, that I receyued letters lately from my father, whereby I vnderstoode
that he woulde be héere very shortly to performe all that I had profered: therfore
I required him to request Damō on my behalf, that he would stay his promise to the doctor for a fourthnight or more.
Du.
This is somewhat yet, for by this meanes I shal be sure to linger and liue in hope
one fourthnight longer, but at the fourthnights ende when Philogono commeth not, how shall I then do? yea and though he came, howe may I any way hope
of his consent, when he shall sée, that to follow this amorous enterprise, I haue
set aside all studie, all remembraunce of my duetie, and all dread of shame. Alas,
alas, I may go hang my selfe.
Ero.
Comforte your selfe man, and trust in me: there is a salue for euery sore, and doubt
you not, to this mischéefe we shall finde a remedie.
Du.
O friend reuiue me, that hitherto since I first attempted this matter haue bene continually
dying.
Ero.
Well, harken a while then: this morning I tooke my horse and rode into the fieldes
to solace my selfe, and as I passed the foorde beyonds S. Anthonies gate, I met at the foote of the hill a gentleman riding with two or thrée men, and
as me thought by his habite and his lookes, he should be none of the wisest. He saluted
me, and I him: I asked him from whence he came, and whither he would? he answered
that he had come from Venice, then from Padua, nowe was going to Ferrara, and so to his countrey, whiche is Scienna: As soone as I knowe him to be a Scenese, sodenly lifting vp mine eyes, as it were with an admiration I sayd vnto him, are
you a Scenese, and come to Ferrara? why not, sayde he: quoth I, halfe and more with a trembling voyce, know you the
daunger that should ensue if you be knowne in Ferrara to be a Scenese? he more than halfe amased, desired me earnestly to tell him what I ment.
Du.
I vnderstande not wherto this tendeth.
Ero.
I beléeue you, but hearken to me.
Ero.
I answered him in this sorte: Gentleman, bicause I haue heretofore founde very curteous
entertaynement in your countrey, béeing a student there, I accompt my selfe as it
were bounde to a Scenese, and therefore if I knewe of any mishappe towards any of that countrey, God forbid
but I should disclose it: and I maruell that you knowe not of the iniurie that your
countreymen offered this other day to the Embassadours of Countie Hercule.
Du.
What tales he telleth me: what appertayne these to me?
Ero.
If you will harken a whyle, you shall finde them no tales, but that they appertayne
to you more than you thinke for.
Ero.
I tolde him further, these Ambassadoures of Countie Hercule had dyuers Mules, Waggons, and Charettes, laden with diuers costly iewels, gorgious
furniture, & other things which they caried as presents, passing that way to the king
of Naples, the which were not only stayd in Sciene by the officers whō you cal Customers, but serched, ransacked, tossed & turned,
& in the end exacted for tribute, as if they had bene the goods of a meane marchaunt.
Du.
Whither the diuell will he? is it possible that this geare appertaineth any thing
to my cause? I finde neither head nor foote in it.
Ero.
O how impaciēt you are: I pray you stay a while.
Du.
Go to yet a while then.
Ero.
I procéeded, that vpon these causes the Duke sent his Chauncelor to declare the case
vnto the Senate there, of whom he had the moste vncurteous answere that euer was heard,
whervpon he was so enraged with all of that countrey, that for reuēge he had sworne
to spoyle as many of them as euer should come to Ferrara, and to sende them home in their dublet and their hose.
Du.
And I pray thée how couldest thou vpon the sudden deuise or imagine suche a lye? and
to what purpose?
Ero.
You shall heare by and by a thing as fitte for our purpose, as any could haue happened.
Du.
I would fayne heare you conclude.
Ero.
You would fayne leape ouer the stile, before you come at the hedge: I woulde you had
heard me, and séene the gestures that I enforced to make him beléeue this.
Du.
I beléeue you, for I know you can counterfet well.
Ero.
Further I sayde, the duke had charged vpon great penalties, that the Inholders and
vitlers shoulde bring worde dayly of as many Sceneses as came to their houses: the gentlemā béeing (as I gessed at the first) a man of
smal sapientia, when he heard these newes, would haue turned his horse an other way.
Du.
By likelyhoode he was not very wise when he would beléeue that of his cūntrey, which
if it had bene true, euery man must néedes haue knowen it.
Ero.
Why not? when he had not béene in his countrey for a moneth paste, and I tolde him
this had hapned within these seuen dayes.
Du.
Belike he was of small experience.
Ero.
I thinke, of as litle as maye be: but beste of all for our purpose, and good aduenture
it was, that I mette with suche an one. Now harken I pray thée.
Du.
Make an ende I pray thée.
Ero.
He, as I say, when he hard these words, would haue turned the bridle, & I fayning
a countenance as thoughe I were somewhat pensiue & carefull for him, passed a while,
and after with a great sighe saide to him: gentleman, for the curtesie that (as I
said) I haue founde in your countrey, and because youre affaires shall be the better
dispatched, I will finde the meanes to lodge you in my house, and you shall saye to
euerye man, that you are a Sicilan of Cathanea, your name Philogono, father to me that am in dede of that countrey and citie, called here Erostrato: and I (to pleasure you) will (during youre abode here) doe you reuerence as you
were my father.
Du.
Out vpon me, what a grosse hedded foole am I? now I perceiue whereto this tale tendeth.
Ero.
Well, and how like you of it?
Du.
Indifferently, but one thing I doubt.
Du.
Marie, that when he hathe bene here two or thrée dayes, he shal heare of euery man
that there is no such thing betwene the Duke and the Towne of Sciene.
Ero.
As for that let me alone, I doe entertaine and will entertaine him so wel, that within
these two or thrée dayes I will disclose vnto him all the whole matter, and doubte
not but to bring him in for performance of as muche as I haue promised to Damon: for what hurte can it be to him, when he shall binde a strange name and not his
owne?
Du.
What, thinke you he will be entreated to stande hounde for a dower of two thousand
Ducates by the yeare?
Ero.
Yea why not, if it were ten thousande, as long as he is not in déede the man that
is bounde?
Du.
Well, if it be so, what shall we be the nerer to oure purpose.
Ero.
Why, when we haue done as muche as we can, how can we doe any more?
Du.
And where haue you left him?
Ero.
At the Inne, bicause of his horses, he and his men shall lye in my house.
Du.
Why brought you him not with you?
Ero.
I thought better to vse your aduise first.
Du.
Well, goe take him home, make him all the chéere you can, spare for no cost, I will
alowe it.
Ero.
Content, loke where he commeth.
Du.
Is this he? goe méete him, by my trouthe he lokes euen lyke a good soule, he that
fisheth for hym, myghte be sure to catche a cods heade: I will rest here a while to
discipher him.
Erostrato espyeth the Scenese and goeth tovvards him.
Dulippo standeth aside.
Scena. ij.
The SCENESE. FAVMLVS his seruaunt. EROSTRATO.
HE that trauaileth in this worlde passeth by manye perilles.
Fa.
You saye true sir, if the boate had bene a litle more laden this morning at the ferrie,
wée had bene all drowned, for I thinke, there are none of vs that could haue swomme.
Sc.
I speake not of that.
Fa.
O you meane the foule waye that we had since wée came from this Padua, I promise you, I was afraide twice or thrice, that your mule woulde haue lien faste
in the mire.
Sc.
Iesu, what a blockehead thou arte, I speake of the perill we are in presently since
we came into this citie.
Fa.
A great perill I promise you, that we were no sooner ariued, than you founde a frende
that brought you from the Inne, and lodged you in his owne house.
Sc.
Yea marie, God reward the gentle young man that we mette, for else we had bene in
a wise case by this tyme. But haue done with these tales, and take you héede, and
you also sirra, take héede that none of you saie we be Sceneses, and remember that you call me Philogano of Cathanea.
Fa.
Sure I shal neuer remember these outlandish words I coulde well remember Haccanea.
Sc.
I say, Cathaenea, and not Haccanea, with a vengeance.
Fa.
Let another name it then when néede is, for I shall neuer remember it.
Sc.
Then holde thy peace, and take héede thou name not Scene.
Fa.
Howe say you, if I faine my selfe dum as I did once in the house of Crisobolus?
Sc.
Doe as thou thinkest best: but looke where commeth the gentleman whom we are so muche
bounde vnto.
Ero.
Welcome, my deare father Philogano.
Sc.
Gramercie my good sonne Erostrato.
Ero.
That is well said, be mindfull of your tong, for these Ferareses be as craftie as the deuill of hell.
Sc.
No, no, be you sure we will doe as you haue bidden vs.
Ero.
For if you should name Scene they would spoile you immediatlye, and turne you oute of the towne, with more shame,
than I woulde shoulde befall you for a thousande Crownes.
Sc.
I warant you, I was giuing thē warning as I came to you, and I doubt not but they
will take good héede.
Ero.
Yea and trust not the seruauntes of my householde to far, for they are Ferareses all, and neuer knew my father, nor came neuer in Sicilia: this is my house, will it please you to goe in? I will follow.
They goe in.
Dulipo tarieth and espyeth the Doctor comming in vvith his man.
Scena. iiij.
CARION the doctors man. CLEANDER. DVLIPPO.
MAister, what the diuell meane you to goe séeke guestes at this time of the day? the
Maiors officers haue dyned ere this time, which are alway the last in the market.
Cle.
I come to séeke Pasiphilo, to the ende he maye dyne with me.
Ca.
As though sixe mouthes and the cat for the seuenth, be not sufficiente to eate an
harlotrie shotterell, a pennieworthe of chese, and halfe a score spurlinges, this
is all the dainties you haue dressed for you and your familie.
Cle.
Ah gréedie gut, arte thou afearde thou shalt want?
Ca.
I am afearde in déede, it is not the first time I haue founde it so.
Du.
Shall I make some sporte with this gallant? what shall I say to him?
Cle.
Thou arte afearde belike that he will eate thée and the rest.
Ca.
Nay, rather that he will eate your mule, both heare and hyde.
Cle.
Heare and hyde? and why not fleshe and all?
Ca.
Bicause she hath none, if she had any fleshe, I thinke you had eaten hir your selfe
by this time.
Cle.
She may thanke you then, for your good attendance.
Ca.
Nay she may thanke you for your small allowance.
Du.
In faith now let me alone.
Cle.
Holde thy peace drunken knaue, and espye me Pasiphilo.
Du.
Since I can doe no better, I will set such a staunce betwéene him and Pasiphilo, that all this towne shall not make them frendes.
Ca.
Coulde you not haue sent to séeke him, but you must come your selfe? surely you come
for some other purpose, for if you would haue had Pasiphilo to dinner, I warant you he would haue taried here an houre since.
Cle.
Holde thy peace, here is one of Damons seruaunts, of him I shall vnderstande where he is: good fellow arte not thou one
of Damons seruauntes?
Du.
Yes sir, at your knamandement.
Cle.
Gramercie, tell me then, hath Pasiphilo bene there this day or no?
Du.
Yes sir, and I thinke he be there still, ah, ah, ah.
Du.
At a thing, that euery man may not laugh at.
Du.
Talke, that Pasiphilo had with my maister this day.
Cle.
What talke I pray thée?
Cle.
Doth it concerne me?
Du.
Nay I will say nothing.
Cle.
I would but know if it concerne me, I praye thée tel me.
Du.
I would tell you, if I were sure you would not tell it againe.
Cle.
Beleue me I will kepe it close: Carion giue vs leaue a litle, goe aside.
Du.
If my maister shoulde knowe that it came by me, I were better die a thousande deathes.
Cle.
He shall neuer know it, say on.
Du.
Yea, but what assurance shall I haue?
Cle.
I lay thée my faith and honestie in paune.
Du.
A prettie paune, the fulkers will not lend you a farthing on it.
Cle.
Yea, but amongst honest men it is more worth than golde.
Du.
Yea marie sir, but where be they? but will you nedes haue me to tell it vnto you?
Cle.
Yea I pray thée if it any thing appertaine to me.
Du.
Yes it is of you, and I woulde gladly tell it you, bycause I would not haue suche
a man of worship so scorned by a villaine ribaulde.
Cle.
I pray thée tell me then.
Du.
I will tell you so that you will sweare neuer to tell it to Pasiphilo, to my maister, nor to any other bodye.
Ca.
Surely it is some toye deuised to get some money of him.
Cle.
I thinke I haue a booke here.
Ca.
If he knewe him as well as I, he woulde neuer goe aboute it, for he maye as sone get
one of his téeth from his iawes with a paire of pinchers, as a pennie out of his purse
with suche a conceite.
Cle.
Here is a letter wil serue the turne: I swere to thée by the contents hereof neuer
to disclose it to any man.
Du.
I will tell you, I am sorie to sée how Pasiphilo dothe abuse you, perswading you that alwayes he laboureth for you, where in deede,
he lyeth on my maister continually, as it were with tooth and naile for a straunger,
a scholer, borne in Sicilia they call him Roscus or arskisse, he hathe a madde name I can neuer hit vpon it.
Cle.
And thou recknest it as madly: is it not Erostrato?
Du.
That same, I should neuer haue remembred it: & the villaine speaketh all the euil
of you that can be deuised.
Du.
To my maister, yea and to Polinesta herselfe sometimes.
Cle.
Is it possible, Ah slaue, and what saith he?
Du.
More euill than I can imagine: that you are the miserablest and most nigardly man
that euer was.
Cle.
Sayeth Pasiphilo so by me?
Du.
And that as often as he commeth to your house, he is like to die for hunger, you fare
so well.
Cle.
That the deuill take him else.
Du.
And that you are the testiest man, and most diuers to please in the whole worlde,
so that he cannot please you vnlesse he shoulde euen kyll himselfe with continuall
paine.
Du.
Furthermore, that you cough continually and spitte, so that a dogge cannot abide it.
Cle.
I neuer spitte nor coughe more than thus, vho, vho, and that but since I caughte this
murre, but who is frée from it?
Du.
You saye true sir, yet further he sayth, your arme holes stincke, your féete worse
than they, and your breathe worst of all.
Cle.
If I quite him not for this geare.
Du.
And that you are bursen in the cods.
Cle.
O villaine, he lieth, and if I were not in the stréete thou shouldest sée them.
Du.
And he saith, that you desire this yong gentlewoman, as much for other mens pleasure
as for your owne.
Cle.
What meaneth he by that?
Du.
Peraduenture that by hir beautie, you would entice many yong men to your house.
Cle.
Yong men? to what purpose?
Cle.
Is it possible that Pasiphilo speaketh thus of me?
Cle.
And doth Damon beleue him?
Du.
Yea, more than you woulde thinke, in suche sort, that long ere this, he would haue
giuē you a flat repulse, but Pasiphilo intreated him to continue you a suter for hys aduantage.
Cle.
How for his aduantage?
Du.
Marie, that during your sute he mighte still haue some rewarde for his great paines.
Cle.
He shall haue a rope, and yet that is more than he deserueth: I had thought to haue
giuen him these hose when I had worne them a litle nearer, but he shall haue a. &c.
Du.
In good faith sir, they were but loste on him. Will you any thing else with me sir?
Cle.
Nay, I haue heard to much of thée already.
Du.
Then I will take my leaue of you.
Cle.
Farewell, but tell me, may I not know thy name?
Du.
Sir, they call me Foule fall you.
Cle.
An ill fauored name by my trouthe, arte thou thys countrey man?
Du.
No sir, I was borne by a castle mē cal Scabbe catch you, fare you well sir.
Cle.
Farewell, oh God how haue I bene abused? what a spokesman? what a messanger had I
prouided?
Car.
Why sir, will you tarie for Pasiphilo till we die for hunger?
Cle.
Trouble me not, that the deuill take you both.
Car.
These newes what so euer they be, like him not.
Cle.
Art thou so hungrie yet? I pray to God thou he neuer satisfied.
Car.
By the masse no more I shall as long as I am your seruaunt.
Cle.
Goe with mischaunce.
Car.
Yea, and a mischiefe to you, and to all such couetous wretches.