|Character||Hippolito Lussurioso Vindice (disguised as Piato)|
|Scene type / Who are||Siblings, Friends|
|Description||Lussurioso hires Vindice to help him in his amorous pursuits|
|Location||ACT I, Scene 3|
The title refers to Vindice's revenge plot against an old Duke who has poisoned his girlfriend Gloriana when she rejected his advances. Years later Vindice's brother, Hippolito, works as a servant for the Duke's son, Lussurioso. Hippolito convinces Lussurioso to hire his brother (disguised as Piato), to help him seduce and procure women for him. Lussurioso has interest in Hippolito and Vindice's sister, Castiza. In this scene Lussurioso meets Vindice (as Piato) and asks him to procure Castizia for him.
Written by Administrator
|[I.iii. The palace]|
Enter Vindici and Hippolito, Vindici in disguise [as Piato] to attend Lord Lussurioso, the duke's son.
What, brother? Am I far enough from myself?
As if another man had been sent
Into the world, and none wist how he came.
It will confirm me bold, the child a' th' court:
Let blushes dwell i' th' country. Impudence,
Thou goddess of the palace, [mistress] of [mistresses]
To whom the costly-perfum'd people pray,
Strike thou my forehead into dauntless marble,
Mine eyes to steady sapphires: turn my visage,
And if I must needs glow, let me blush inward
That this immodest season may not spy
That scholar in my cheeks, fool-bashfulness,
That maid in the old time, whose flush of grace
Would never suffer her to get good clothes.
Our maids are wiser and are less asham'd;
Save grace the bawd I seldom hear grace nam'd!
Nay, brother, you reach out a' th' verge now.
'Sfoot, the duke's son! Settle your looks.
Pray let me not be doubted.
Hippolito? Be absent; leave us.
My lord, after long search, wary inquiries
And politic siftings, I made choice of yon fellow,
Whom I guess rare for many deep employments;
This our age swims within him: and if Time
Had so much hair, I should take him for Time,
He is so near kin to this present minute.
We thank thee. Yet words are but great men's blanks:
Gold, tho' it be dumb, does utter the best thanks.
[He gives Hippolito gold.]
Your plenteous honour; an ex'lent fellow, my lord.
So, give us leave.
Welcome, be not far off, we must be better acquainted. Push, be bold with us, thy hand!
With all my heart, i'faith. How dost, sweet musk-cat?
When shall we lie together?
[Aside] Wondrous knave!
Gather him into boldness? 'Sfoot, the slave's
Already as familiar as an ague,
And shakes me at his pleasure!--Friend, I can
Forget myself in private, but elsewhere,
I pray do you remember me.
Oh, very well, sir.
I conster myself saucy.
What hast been?
Of what profession?
A bawd, my lord,
One that sets bones together.
[Aside] Notable bluntness!
Fit, fit for me, e'en train'd up to my hand.--
Thou hast been scrivener to much knavery then?
Fool to abundance, sir. I have been witness
To the surrenders of a thousand virgins,
And not so little;
I have seen patrimonies wash'd a' pieces,
Fruit-fields turn'd into bastards,
And in a world of acres,
Not so much dust due to the heir 'twas left to
As would well gravel a petition!
[Aside] Fine villain! Troth, I like him wondrously.
He's e'en shap'd for my purpose.--Then thou know'st
I' th' world strange lust.
Oh, Dutch lust! Fulsome lust!
Drunken procreation, which begets
So many drunkards! Some father dreads not, gone
To bed in wine, to slide from the mother
And cling the daughter-in-law,
Some uncles are adulterous with their nieces,
Brothers with brothers' wives. Oh, hour of incest!
Any kin now next to the rim a' th' sister
Is man's meat in these days, and in the morning
When they are up and dress'd, and their mask on,
Who can perceive this save that eternal eye
That sees through flesh and all well. If anything be damn'd,
It will be twelve a' clock at night; that twelve
Will never 'scape:
It is the Judas of the hours, wherein
Honest salvation is betray'd to sin.
In troth, it is too; but let this talk glide.
It is our blood to err, tho' hell gap'd loud:
Ladies know Lucifer fell, yet still are proud.
Now, sir. Wert thou as secret as thou'rt subtle,
And deeply fadom'd into all estates,
I would embrace thee for a near employment,
And thou shouldst swell in money, and be able
To make lame beggars crouch to thee.
Secret? I ne'er had that disease a' th' mother,
I praise my father: why are men made close,
But to keep thoughts in best? I grant you this,
Tell but some woman a secret overnight,
Your doctor may find it in the urinal i' th' morning.
But, my lord--
So, thou'rt confirmed in me,
And thus I enter thee.
This Indian devil
Will quickly enter any man but a usurer;
He prevents that by ent'ring the devil first.
Attend me: I am past my [depth] in lust
And I must swim or drown; all my desires
Are level'd at a virgin not far from court,
To whom I have convey'd by messenger
Many wax'd lines, full of my neatest spirit,
And jewels that were able to ravish her
Without the help of man, all which and more
She, foolish-chaste, sent back, the messengers
Receiving frowns for answers.
'Tis a rare phoenix, whoe'er she be,
If your desires be such, she so repugnant.
In troth, my lord, I'd be reveng'd and marry her.
Push, the dowry of her blood and of her fortunes
Are both too mean, good enough to be bad withal.
I'm one of that number can defend
Marriage is good, yet rather keep a friend.
Give me my bed by stealth; there's true delight:
What breeds a loathing in't but night by night?
A very fine religion!
I'll trust thee in the business of my heart
Because I see thee well experienc'd
In this luxurious day wherein we breathe.
Go thou, and with a smooth, enchanting tongue
Bewitch her ears and cozen her of all grace.
Enter upon the portion of her soul,
Her honour, which she calls her chastity,
And bring it into expense, for honesty
Is like a stock of money laid to sleep,
Which ne'er so little broke does never keep.
You have gi'n 't the tang, i'faith, my lord.
Make known the lady to me, and my brain
Shall swell with strange invention: I will move it
Till I expire with speaking, and drop down
Without a word to save me; but I'll work.
We thank thee, and will raise thee: receive her name;
It is the only daughter to Madam Gratiana,
The late widow.
[Aside] Oh, my sister, my sister!
Why dost walk aside?
My lord, I was thinking how I might begin,
As thus, "Oh, lady," or twenty hundred devices;
Her very bodkin will put a man in.
Ay, or the wagging of her hair.
No, that shall put you in, my lord.
Shall 't? Why, content. Dost know the daughter then?
Oh, ex'lent well by sight.
That was her brother
That did prefer thee to us.
My lord, I think so;
I knew I had seen him somewhere.
And therefore, prithee, let thy heart to him
Be as a virgin, close.
Oh, [my] good lord!
We may laugh at that simple age within him.
Ha, ha, ha!
Himself being made the subtle instrument
To wind up a good fellow.
That's I, my lord.
To entice and work his sister.
A pure novice!
'Twas finely manag'd.
[Aside] A pretty, perfum'd villain!
I've bethought me,
If she prove chaste still and immoveable,
Venture upon the mother, and with gifts
As I will furnish thee, begin with her.
Oh, fie, fie, that's the wrong end, my lord! 'Tis mere impossible that a mother by any gifts should become a bawd to her own daughter!
Nay, then I see thou'rt but a puny in the subtle mystery of a woman.
Why, 'tis held now no dainty dish: the name
Is so in league with age that nowadays
It does eclipse three quarters of a mother.
Dost so, my lord?
Let me alone then to eclipse the fourth.
Why, well said; come, I'll furnish thee, but first
Swear to be true in all.
Nay, but swear!
I hope your honour little doubts my faith.
Yet for my humour's sake, 'cause I love swearing.
'Cause you love swearing, 'slud, I will.
Ere long look to be made of better stuff.
That will do well indeed, my lord.
Now let me burst: I've eaten noble poison!
We are made strange fellows, brother, innocent villains.
Wilt not be angry when thou hear'st on't, think'st thou?
I'faith, thou shalt; swear me to foul my sister!
Sword, I durst make a promise of him to thee,
Thou shalt dis-heir him, it shall be thine honour!
And yet now angry froth is down in me,
It would not prove the meanest policy
In this disguise to try the faith of both;
Another might have had the selfsame office,
Some slave that would have wrought effectually,
Ay, and perhaps o'erwrought 'em. Therefore I,
Being thought travell'd, will apply myself
Unto the selfsame form, forget my nature,
As if no part about me were kin to 'em;
So touch 'em, tho' I durst almost for good
Venture my lands in heaven upon their [blood].