Satiromastix – Act Three, Scene Two

Return to previous scene

Trumpets sound a flourish, and then a sennet.  Enter KING,  with CÆLESTINE, SIR WALTER TERILL, SIR QUINTILIAN, SIR ADAM, BLUNT, and other Ladies, DICACHE, PHILOCALIA, PETULA, and Attendants; whilst the trumpets sound, the KING takes his leave of the Bridegroom,  and SIR QUINTILIAN and last of the Bride.

 KING
My song of parting, doth this burden bear.
A kiss the ditty, and I sing it here.
Your lips are well in tune, strung with delight,
By this fair bride remember soon at night.
Sir Walter.

TERILL
My liege lord, we all attend,
The time and place.

KING
Till then, my leave commend.                            [They bring him to the door.

Enter at another door, SIR VAUGHAN.

 SIR VAUGHAN
Ladies, I am to put a very easy suit upon you all, and to desire you to fill you little pellies at a dinner of plums behind no one.  There be suckets and marmalades, and marchants, and other long white plums that fain would kiss your delicate and sweet lips.  I indict you all together, and you especially, my lady pride.  What do you say for yoursells?  For I indict you all.

 CÆLESTINE
I thank you, good Sir Vaughan, I will come.

 SIR VAUGHAN
Say, sentlewomen, will you stand to me too?

 ALL
We’ll sit with you, sweet Sir Vaughan.

 SIR VAUGHAN
God a’ mighty, pless your faces, and make your peauties last, when we are all dead and rotten.  You will all come?

 FIRST LADY
All will come.

 SIR VAUGHAN
Pray God that Horace be in his right wits to rail now.                               [Exit.

 CRISPINUS
Come, lady, you shall be my dancine guest
To treat the maze of music with the rest.

 DEMETRIUS
I’ll lead you in.

 DICACHE
A maze is like a doubt,
‘Tis easy to go in, hard to get out.

 BLUNT
We follow close behind.

 PHILOCALIA
That measure’s best.
Now none marks us, but we mark all the rest.

[Exeunt all saving SIR QUINTILIAN, CÆLESTINE, and  SIR WALTER TERILL.

 TERILL
Father, and you my bride; that name today;
Wife comes not till tomorrow; but omitting
This interchange of language, let us think
Upon the king and night, and call out spirits
To a true reckoning.  First, to arm our wits
With complete steel of judgement, and out tongues
With sound artillery of phrases; then
Our bodies must be motions; moving first
What we speak; afterwards, our very knees
Must humbly seem to talk, and suit our speech,
For a true furnish’d courtier hath such force;
Though his tongue faints, his very legs discourse.

 SIR QUINTILIAN
Son Terill, thou hast drawn his picture right,
For he’s no full-made courtier, nor well strung
That hath not every joint struck with a tongue.
Daughter, if ladies say, that is the bride, that’s she,
Gaze thou at none, for all will gaze at thee.

 CÆLESTINE
Then, O my father, must I go?  O my husband,
Shall I then go?  O, myself, will I go?

SIR QUINTILIAN
You must.

 TERILL
You shall.

 CÆLESTINE
I will, but give me leave
To say I may not, nor I ought not, say not
Still, I must go, let me entreat I may not.

 TERILL
You must and shall; I made a deed of give,
And gave my oath unto the king; I swore
By thy true constancy.

 CÆLESTINE
Then keep that word
To swear by.  O, let me be constant still.

 TERILL
What shall I cancel faith, and break my oath?

 CÆLESTINE
If breaking constancy, thou breakst them both.

 TERILL
Thy constancy no evil can pursue.

 CÆLESTINE
I  may be constant still, and yet not true.

 TERILL
As how?

 CÆLESTINE
As thus:  violence detain’d,
They may be constant still, that are constrain’d.

 TERILL
Constrain’d?  That word weighs heavy, yet my oath
Weighs down that word; the king’s thoughts are at odds;
They are not even balanced in his breast.
The king may play the man with me; nay more,
Kings may usurp; my wife’s a woman, yet
‘Tis more then I know yet, that know not her.
If she should prove mankind, ‘twere rare, fie, fie!
See how I lose myself amongst my thoughts
Thinking to find myself?  My oath, my oath!

 SIR QUINTILIAN
I swear another, let me see, by what?
By my long stocking, and my narrow skirts,
Not made to sit upon; she shall to court.
I have a trick, a charm, that shall lay down
The spirit of lust, and keep thee undeflowered.
Thy husband’s honour sav’d, and the hot king
Shall have enough too.  Come, a trick, a charm.                              [Exit.

 CÆLESTINE
God keep thy honour safe, my blood from harm.

 TERILL
Come, my sick-minded bride, I’ll teach thee how
To relish health a little.  Taste this thought:
That when mine eyes serv’d love’s commission
Upon thy beauties, I did seize on them
To a king’s use; cure all thy grief with this:
That his great seal was graven upon this ring,
And that I was but steward to a king.                                          [Exeunt.

Proceed to the next scene

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

%d bloggers like this: