ACT THREE
3.1*
Enter PHILOMEL, MENDICANT, DOCTOR.

405PhilomelThese are the lodgings† that my Lady appointed
        For your distracted† patient.

406MendicantLike you ’em, Doctor?

407DoctorExceeding well. Excuse me, Gentlewoman,
        That now intreat your absence.

408PhilomelWillingly.
        I am not taken with the sight you bring:
        For I see mad-folks enough every day.Exit [PHILOMEL].

409DoctorHere set him down. Unbind him, and unblind him.
[Enter SERVANTS carrying on FERDINAND, who has been bound and hooded, in a chair. Having set down the chair, loosened the prisoner's bonds and removed his hood, the SERVANTS exit.]*

410FerdinandAm I then taken prisoner in the North?*
        Wounded, disarmed and bound? I shall be ransomed.
        To which of your rebelliously usurped
        Castles ha’ you brought me?*   [To DOCTOR]   You, sir Presbyter,†
        That better can pugnare than orare,*
        And so abjure† all duty and allegiance —

411MendicantHe takes you for a Northern Pastor,† Mr. Doctor.*

412DoctorNo matter what, let him run out† his fancy.†

413FerdinandYou were best to use me well, and like a soldier.
        Order† will else be ta’en -- though you know none.*

414DoctorYou shall have all best usage, sir.

415FerdinandAnd use my horse well, too, and let my horse and armour
        Be decently preserved* and seen forthcoming
        At my redemption.†

416DoctorWith all best care, sir.

417FerdinandFor I shall soon be sent for, or fetched off†
        With ruin of your country ’bout your ears.

418DoctorYou shall have all content the country yields,* sir.

419FerdinandI shall have oatbread,† ale, and bagpipes, shall I?

420DoctorIf you’ll be merry, sir.

421FerdinandMerry! why not?
        Come, let’s ha’ cards, and you and I to cribbage†*
        For an odd hundred pound: I mean not Scotch,
        But sterling English pieces!† Where’s your money?
        All gone in ammunition, and charge military.

422DoctorI’ll find you money enough.

423FerdinandOh, here’s a third man! Let’s then to gleek.†

424MendicantCrown† gleek, sir, if you please.

425FerdinandCrown gleek! no more?
        You seem to be a thrifty Covenanter†
        To play but at crown gleek: whole piece† gleek or nothing!

426MendicantHigh as you please, sir, we’ll find money enough,
        And pay us but our buyings.†

427FerdinandSir, you must bate me aces.* You will play Tib and Tom.†

428DoctorAll i’ the cards, sir.

429FerdinandAway with cards. Bring dice, set all at hazard,†
        And though I lose all, I have yet a project
        That at the end o’ th’ war, and the great sitting*
        Shall fetch all in† again. But oh, my Muse!
        How dare I so neglect thy inspirations?
        Give me pen, ink and paper.

430DoctorAll’s ready.

431FerdinandNow will I write, nor will I emulate
        Ovid’s* smooth vein, or Petrarch’s* buskin† style.
        Nor Laura,† nor Corinna,† did deserve
        To have their prayers written in such verse
        As I’ll bestow on her that I adore.
        Listen to me, you blest Intelligences† – – –
        And, Phoebus, stay thy course to hear me sing
        Her praises,* for whose love th’enamoured gods
        Would leave their proper seats, and in stolen shapes,
        Converse with mortals* – – – You soul-ravishing spheres,*
        Send forth your sweetest harmony whilst I sing – – –
        But, oh, she is disdainful, and her scorn
        Hath blotted all the glory of her praise.
        Away, away with all!

432DoctorNow, sir, do you observe the root of his disease?

433MendicantI guess at it: know you the remedy?

434FerdinandDisease! What’s that? who is diseased? Who wants
        A remedy? Are you, sir, a physician?

435MendicantThis gentleman is, and brings you remedy,
        Be you patient.

436DoctorOh, you will move† him.

437FerdinandYou are a brace† of quacks,
        That tie your knowledge unto days and hours
        Marked out for good or ill i’ th’ almanac.†
        Your best receipts† are candy† for a cold,
        And Carduus Benedictus* for an ague.†
        Could you give life as Æsculapius*
        Did to unjustly slain Hippolytus,*
        You could prescribe no remedy for me.
        Go study Galen* and Hippocrates,*
        And when your rare† simplicities† have found
        Simples† to cure the lunacy of love,
        Compose a potion and administer’t
        Unto the Family at Amsterdam.†

438DoctorI’ll physic† you tomorrow and allay
        The heat of this strong fit or leech† it out.
Enter RAPHAEL.*

439Raphael   [Aside]   I have ventured to this house again, assured
        That now the humorous† lady is from home,
        Forgetting not her love-trick put upon me
        Which she already boasts to my disgrace
        For which I may requite her Ladyship,
           [To MENDICANT]   How does your patient? Asleep! That’s well.

440MendicantNo, he’s but silent, sir, and it is well
        That he is so, so long.

441RaphaelThe Lords in honourable regard† unto
        His health directed me to visit him.

442FerdinandWho’s that?

443RaphaelDo you not know me, sir?

444Fre.You are, I tak’t, the ghost of Dionysus,*
        The great tyrannical court schoolmaster.

445RaphaelYour friends at court commend them to you, sir.

446FerdinandWhat,* hither? Unto hell? Extend their loves
        So far, to find me out? Pray let ’em know
        That here’s a troubled world in want† of statesmen.
        But tell the youths and beauties there, they never
        Shall find a happier opportunity
        To raise a new plantation.† They’ll drive all
        Before ’em* here. For pride is at a stand;†
        Fashions are all worn out; and no invention†
        For new here to be found. All beauty’s lost;
        Nor have the greatest ladies here the art*
        To make so much as their poor chambermaids.
        Let ’em come down,* as many of the gallants
        As are made weary of their wives or mistresses;
        And, of those wives and mistresses, as many
        As can their husbands or their servants spare:
        And what a year of holidays,* a jubilee†
        Shall we have in hell then? Hah!* Old Lad!*

447RaphaelWhat a wild fancy’s this!

448DoctorCross it not, good sir.

449RaphaelPray give me leave to touch it though, a little.

450FerdinandBut above all, find out the Lady Strangelove
        That humorous† Madam, and tell her from me,
        The many lovers she has sent before her
        Into these shades (where we can find no torments
        Like those that she inflicted) have prevailed
        With the great queen, Proserpina,* that she
        Shall be in place next to her royal person.

451RaphaelThe Lady Strangelove! You are in her house, sir.
        Where do you think you are? or who you are?
        Pray call yourself to mind, sir. Are not you
        The noble cavalier† and hopeful† courtier
        The most accomplished knight, Sir Ferdinando?

452DoctorForbear, sir, you will move† him strongly else.

453RaphaelI have authority for what I do, sir.
        Can you forget yourself, sir, or neglect
        The bounteous fortunes that the court and kingdom
        Have in store for you, both for past achievements,
        And for the large endowments† of court virtue
        Are found still growing in you, studied and practised
        So to the life, as if you were built up
        Virtue’s own mansion,† on her four firm pillars?—

454Mendicant   [Aside]   I hope he cannot flatter him into’s wits
        When ’tis the way to fool men out of ’em.

455Raphael—The wisdom, justice, magnanimity,
        And temperance* of Court you are exactly
        Framed and composed of, and indued† with all
        The excellencies that may adorn a man
        By nature, fortune, art and industry!
        And all this glorious light to be eclipsed
        And such divine perfections seem to sleep?

456FerdinandPray sir, your ear.

457RaphaelSir, most attentively.

458FerdinandWhat do you think of Salisbury steeple,* sir,
        For a fit hunting spear t’incounter with
        The Whore of Babylon?* Might I not firk† her, think you?

459MendicantYour doctrine does not edify,† Sir Raphael.

460FerdinandIs orator Demosthenes* grown dumb
        O’th’ sudden? What! No answer? give me a knife:
        He is but tongue-tied. *

461RaphaelGuard me, Divinity.

462Doctor   [To RAPHAEL]   I told you what you would do.

463Mendicant   [To FERDINAND]   Patience, good sir.

464FerdinandPatience in tortures?

465DoctorHelp here suddenly!†
Enter SERVANTS.

466FerdinandDo you sally forth in troops? Have I no troop?
        Give me my horse and arms, and come a hundred.
[SERVANTS subdue FERDINAND and strap him back onto his chair.]

467DoctorWe’ll arm and horse you, since you're so unruly.
        Away with him into his bedchamber.
[SERVANTS lift FERDINAND in his chair and move towards a stage door.]

468FerdinandOh, do you make me then your Knight o’ th’ Shire?*
        A tun† o’ wine for that. Shoulder your Knight,
        Advance your Knight, bear him out!

469AllA† Ferdinand, a Ferdinand!*[Exit DOCTOR and SERVANTS, carrying FERDINAND in his chair.]*

470Mendicant   [Aside]   This now to me is music, golden-chimes
        That rings all in with an assured advantage.
           [To RAPHAEL]   How now, Sir Raphael! Frighted?

471RaphaelIn all my disputations,† all my travels,*
        And all conspiracies that have been had
        Against me, never met I an encounter
        By man or spirit that I feared so much.
        Yet here’s another fury.
Enter STRANGELOVE.

472Strangelove   [To MENDICANT]   By what oppression or tyranny (for law,
        I’m sure, could never do’t) is my house here
        Confiscated† or usurped, and I become your slave?

473MendicantHow, Madam?

474StrangeloveYour slave: lay your commands on me.
        What drudgery do you appoint me to?

475RaphaelShe’s mad too.

476MendicantDid not your Ladyship give way?

477StrangeloveTo make my house a hell?
        The noise of Bedlam† is soft music to’t.
        Could your Projectorship* find no house else
        To make a madman madder in but mine,
        And me as mad as he too with the trouble?

478MendicantI was no principal in’t, good Madam.Exit [MENDICANT].

479StrangeloveWas it your plot then, Sir Philosophaster,†
        That so you might, under pretext of reading
        Philosophy to him to cure his madness,
        Make your address to me to prosecute†
        Your love-suit when I thought I had answered you?
        But if you must proceed, o’ercome me if you can:
        Yet let me warn you to take heed withal
        You pull not a disease unto you, that may
        By your ungoverned haste post† into
        Your grave, for I shall prove a torment to you.
        Though you’ll take no denial, take yet a warning.

480RaphaelI take it to forsake your house and never
        More to resort† where madness reigns. Did I
        Make love to you?

481StrangelovePardon me, virtuous sir:
        It is my love to you that tortures me
        Into this wild distraction.† Oh, Sir Raphael!

482Raphael   [Aside]   Now virtue guide me! I will shun this place
        More than I would the Spanish Inquisition.*[Exit RAPHAEL.]

483StrangeloveI shall in time be rid of all such guests,
        And have the liberty† of mine own house
        With mine own company, and to mine own ends.
        Where are you, Phil? I were but dead if I
        Had not this wench to fool† withal† sometimes.*
Enter PHILOMEL.

484PhilomelMadam.

485StrangeloveI must be a little serious with you: shut the door.

486Philomel   [Aside]   Now am I called into correction.†
        When she is vexed and wants the company
        She likes, then come I into question.
        ’Tis common among ladies with their women.

487StrangeloveWhy that down look, as if you meant to fetch
        An answer or excuse out of your apron-strings
        Before you are charged or questioned? What new fault
        Has passed of late?

488PhilomelDo you read any, Madam,
        Upon my face or looks? I never was in love
        Much with my face, nor ever hated it. But if I thought
        It had upon’t, or in it, any trespass
        Against your Ladyship (my heart being clear)
        These nails should claw it out.
[PHILOMEL scratches at her own face.]*

489StrangeloveNay, be not passionate,† Phil. I know you cannot
        Forget the care I have had of you, nor should you
        Distrust me in the promises I have made you,
        Bearing yourself according to your covenant,† Phil,
        Of which one article† is to laugh with me.

490PhilomelGo, you are such a Lady! Ha, ha, ha!

491StrangeloveNow thou com’st to me, wench! Hadst forgot?

492PhilomelYou said you would be serious.

493StrangeloveDost not thou know my seriousness is to laugh in private,
        And that thou art bound to stir that humour† in me?
        There’s but two things more conditioned† in thy service:
        To do what I bid thee, and tell me the truth
        In all things that I ask thee.

494PhilomelAye Madam, you had never known that same else.

495StrangeloveOf the clap† thou hadst i’the country ere†* I took thee?
        But hast thou faithfully kept thine own e’er†* since?

496PhilomelYes, most severely, Madam, on your promise —

497StrangeloveWell, we will have a husband, then, to solder† up the old crack.†*
        I have already made my choice for you:
        Your sweetheart Cit-wit makes most suit to you,
        And has a good estate, and wit enough,
        Too, for a husband, and a handsome person.

498PhilomelI find no fault in all that. But he is
        So base a coward that he may be soon
        Beaten out of his wit and money.

499StrangeloveBut if he should prove valiant?

500PhilomelIf he were valiant now, I could say something,
        But to wait for growing to’t were such a loss of time.

501StrangeloveWhat say to Swain-wit?

502PhilomelHe’s the other's extreme.
        I might fear him but never love him.

503StrangeloveWhat think you of my special favourite, Mr. Court-wit?

504PhilomelAs of a courtier, Madam, that has tasted
        So much of all waters, that when he has
        A fountain of his own, he’ll be too jealous† of it
        And fear* that every man will drink of’s cup
        When perhaps none dares touch it, were I it.*

505StrangeloveWhat say to Dainty, then, the curious† limner?†

506PhilomelI am bound from lying. Madam, he’s the man.

507StrangeloveWell, I’ll take thy cause in hand, wench. But yet we are not merry. I am inclined most jovially to mirth, me thinks. Pray Jove† some good be towards.† Laugh, or I’ll pinch you till you do!

508PhilomelHa, ha, ha, ha, Madam, ha, ha, ha! Oh, the picture-drawer! Ha, ha, ha!

509StrangeloveAye, come,† the picture-drawer!

510PhilomelOh, I love drawing and painting, as no lady better, who for the most part are of their occupation that profess it.* And shall I tell all, Madam?

511StrangeloveBy all means, Phil.   [Aside]   Now she’s entered.†

512PhilomelI hope I am handsome enough, too. For I have heard that limners or picture-drawers do covet† to have the fairest and best-featured wives (or if not wives, Mistresses) that they can possibly purchase, to draw naked pictures by, as of Diana,* Venus,* Andromeda,* Leda,** or the like, either virtuous or lascivious, whom they make to sit or stand naked in all the several† postures, and to lie as many ways to help their art in drawing. Who knows how I may set his fancy a-work? And with modesty enough: we were all naked once, and must be so again. I could sit for the naked shepherdess, with one leg over the tother† knee, picking the thorn out of her foot most neatly, to make the satyr peep under.

513StrangeloveWell, thou shalt have him.

514Boy   Within.   Mistress Philomel.

515StrangeloveLet in the boy.
[PHILOMEL goes to the stage door through which BOY has spoken]
[Enter BOY.]

Now, sir, your news?

516BoyThe mad knight's doctor, Madam, entreats to speak with you.

517StrangeloveNow seeks he my assistance in his cure.

518BoyAnd Mr. Court-wit and the other gentlemen are below.

519Strangelove   [To PHILOMEL]   Go you and entertain the gentlemen, while I consult with the doctor.   [To BOY]   Let him enter.[Exit BOY via stage door through which he entered
and PHILOMEL via the other.]
Enter DOCTOR.

Now, Mr. Doctor! You come to ask my counsel, I know, for your impatient patient. But let me tell you first, the most learned authors that I can turn over,* as Dioscorides,* Avicenna,* Galen,* and Hippocrates,* are much discrepant in their opinions concerning the remedies for his disease.

520DoctorMadam,——

521StrangeloveTherefore I trust you’ll pardon my weakness, if my opinion jumps not altogether with† your judgement.

522DoctorMadam, my purpose was not——

523StrangeloveMy purpose is to advise you, though, that, if his frenzy proceed from love as you conjecture, that you administer of the roots of hellebore,* distilled together with saltpetre* and the flowers of blindnettles.* I’ll give you the proportions, and the quantity is to take.*

524DoctorMistake not me, good Madam——

525StrangeloveBut if his malady grow out of ambition and his overweening hopes of greatness (as I conjecture), then he may take a top of cedar,* or an oak-apple* is very sovereign† with the spirit of hempseed.*

526DoctorMadam, I seek no counsel in this case: my cunning* is——

527StrangeloveTo let me know, that that part of my house which I allow you is too little for you.

528Doctor   [Aside]   She’s surely mad.

529StrangeloveBut you must claim possession of the rest.
        You are come to warn me out on†’t, are you not?

530DoctorMistake not so, good Madam.

531StrangeloveOr do you call† my attendance on his person, by way of a nursekeeper?† I can do little service.

532DoctorFor my part, Madam, I am sorry we are made the trouble of your house, and rather wish me out on’t †than your favour. But if your Ladyship will be pleased to entertain with patience the little I have to say——

533StrangeloveCome to it quickly then.

534DoctorFirst, let me tell you, Madam, as ’tis manifest†
        You were the cause of his distraction,†
        You're bound in charity to yield such means
        (With safety of your honour and estate)
        As you may render for his restoration
        Which of all the earthly means depends on you
        If I know anything in my profession.

535StrangeloveCome to the point: you'd have me visit him.

536DoctorTrue, Madam, for a sight of you shall more
        Allure† his reason to him, than all medicine
        Can be prescribed.

537StrangeloveBy your favour, sir, you say
        (Saving my honour and estate) I am bound;
        But may I with the safety of my life,
        And limbs, and a whole skin dare venture?

538DoctorMy life o’ that.

539StrangeloveYou might more safely lay
        Lives of a hundred patients.

540DoctorNow he’s calm,
        Now shall he see you, but at most secure
        And modest distance.

541StrangeloveCome, for once I’ll trust you.[DOCTOR and STRANGELOVE] exit.
3.2*
Enter SWAIN-WIT and CIT-WIT.

542Swain-wit   [Calling to COURT-WIT, who is still offstage]   Come out into the garden here and let them talk within. I say he shall talk with her, and his bellyful, and do† with her too, her bellyful, for all† thou, an honest discreet† gentleman,    [turning to CIT-WIT]   and thou, a coward and a coxcomb.† Besides he has an art and quality† to live upon, and maintain her lady-like, when all thy money may be gone. And yet thou prat’st o’ thy two thousand pound at use,* when thou and thy money too are but an ass and’s load tho’.

543Cit-witWell, you may speak your pleasure. This is no cause to fight for.

544Swain-witI’ll make thee fight, or promise to fight with me, or somebody else, before we part, or cut thee into pieces.
Enter COURT-WIT.

545Court-wit   [To CIT-WIT]   But tell me seriously, dost thou love my Lady’s woman so well as to marry her, and suffer the picture-drawer now to court her privately, and perhaps to draw† and carry her from thee?

546Cit-witWhy, he here will have it so, you see, and pulled me out.

547Swain-witIt is to do a cure upon thee, coward.

548Cit-witCoward! Pish!† A common name to men in buff† and feather.* I scorn to answer to’t.

549Swain-witWhy dost thou wear a sword? Only to hurt men’s feet that kick thee?

550Court-wit   [To SWAIN-WIT]   Nay, you are too severe.

551Swain-wit   [To COURT-WIT]   Pray hold your peace. I’ll jowl† your heads together, and so beat tone† with tother† else.    [To CIT-WIT]   Why dost thou wear a sword, I say?

552Cit-witTo fight when I see cause.

553Court-witNow he says something, yet, and may be curable.

554Swain-witWhat is a cause to fight for?

555Cit-witI am not to tell you that, sir. It must be found out and given me before I ought to take notice.

556Court-witYou may safely say for Religion, King or Country.

557Swain-witDarest thou fight for Religion? Say!

558Cit-witWho that has any Religion will fight, I say.

559Swain-witI say thou hast none. Speak, hast thou any?

560Cit-witTruly, in this wavering† world I know not how to answer.

561Swain-witLa† you! He’ll say he has no King neither, rather than fight.

562Court-witWhy, if he will not fight for him, he is no Subject; and no Subject, no King.

563Cit-witI thank you, sir: I would ha’ said so.

564Swain-witOh, thou wouldst make a special† soldier now!

565Cit-witWell, sir, all are not choice dogs that run: some are taken in to make up the cry.†

566Swain-witAnd for thy Country, I dare swear thou wouldst rather run it than fight for’t.

567Cit-witRun my Country I cannot, for I was born i’ the City.† I am no clown† to run my Country.*

568Swain-witDarest thou tell me of clowns,† thou cockney* chicken-hearted whelp,† thou?

569Cit-witforbear,† good sir! There are country gentlemen as well as clowns, and for the rank I honour you.

570Swain-witSirrah, you lie! Strike me for that, now, or I will beat thee abominably.

571Court-wit   [To CIT-WIT]   Up to him, man! Wilt thou suffer all?

572Cit-witI would — but —

573Swain-witYou lie, I say again.

574Cit-witI think I do, I think I do, and why should I maintain† an evil cause?

575Swain-witThe wench thou lov’st and doatest on† is a whore.

576Cit-witSir, if she be ’tis not my fault, nor hers: somebody else made her so then, I warrant you. But should another man tell me so!

577Swain-witWhat then?

578Cit-witI would say as much to him as to you. Nor indeed is any man’s report of that a sufficient cause to provoke me unless she herself confessed it, and then it were no cause at all.

579Swain-witHere’s a true City† wit now.

580Cit-witI should have wit, sir, and am accounted a wit* within the walls.* I am sure my father was master of his company,† and of the wisest company, too, i’the City.†

581Court-witWhat company’s that?

582Cit-witThe Salters,* sir. For sal sapit omnia*you know.

583Swain-witYour father was a cuckold† tho’, and you the son of a whore.

584Court-witFight now or you’ll die infamous! Was your mother a whore?

585Swain-witDeny’t and† darst! say, was she not?

586Cit-witComparatively she might be in respect of some holy woman, the Lady Ramsey,* Mistress Katherine Stubbes* and such, ha, ha! Is that a cause?

587Court-witWhat, not? to say your mother was a whore?

588Cit-witHe may say his pleasure. It hurts her not: she is dead and gone. Besides, at the best she was but a woman, and at the worst she might have her frailties like other women. And is that a cause for me to fight for the dead, when we are forbidden to pray for ’em?*

589Court-witBut were your mother living now, what would you say or do?

590Cit-witWhy, I would civilly ask her if she were a whore. If she confessed it, then he were in the right, and I ought not to fight against him, for my cause were naught. If she denied it, then he were in an error, and his cause were naught, and I would not fight: ’twere better he should live to repent his error.

591Swain-witNay, now if I do not kill thee, let me be hanged for idleness.
[SWAIN-WIT] draw[s his sword from the scabbard at his side].

592Cit-witHold, I am unprepared!

593Swain-witI care not! Unless thou swear presently, and without all equivocation,† upon this sword —

594Cit-witScabbard† and all, I pray, sir. The cover of the book is allowed in courts to swear upon.

595Swain-witWell, sir, now you shall swear to challenge the next that wrongs you.
[SWAIN-WIT] sheathes it [back in its scabbard].

596Cit-witYes, if the wrong give me sufficient cause.

597Court-witCause again! suppose that fellow within should take your wench from you? which very likely he has done already, for I left ’em close on a couch together kissing and —

598Cit-wit Gi’ me the book! I’ll have her from him, or him from her if he be without her belly, or kill him if he be within her.

599Swain-wit’Tis well a cause may be found at last tho’.

600Court-witI like a man, whom neither lie, kick, baton,* scandal, friends, or parents, the wrongs of Country, King or Religion, can move, that will, yet, fight for his wench. Thou wilt be one of the stiff blades* o’ the time, I see.

601Swain-witA wench is a moving cause*—

602Strangelove   [Screaming,] unseen, above.*   Help, help! Here help! Aaaaah!!!*

603Swain-wit   [To CIT-WIT]   Why dost not draw and run in upon ’em?

604Cit-witAfter you I will, sir.

605Swain-witA pox upon thee! Art thou down again?

606Cit-wit   [Drawing his sword]    No, sir, I am drawn, you see.

607Strangelove   [Still unseen above]   Help, help, a rape, a rape, murder, help!
[COURT-WIT and SWAIN-WIT draw their swords.]*

608Swain-wit Court-wit’Tis time to fly, then.
Enter DAINTY (his sword drawn) and PHILOMEL.

609Cit-witI come, my Philomel!

610Court-witWhat’s the matter, Phil?

611DaintyWhat cry was that?

612Swain-witWas it not you that caused it, sir?

613PhilomelWas it not here?

614Cit-witWas it not you that cried?

615Strangelove   Above.*   Is there help? Help, help!!!

616PhilomelOh, ’tis my Lady in the madman’s chamber. Is her mirth come to this?

617Swain-witWhere, which way?

618PhilomelHere, here!   [Trying a stage door]   The door’s made fast.

619Swain-wit   [Doing as he says]   I’ll break it open!
[COURT-WIT, SWAIN-WIT, PHILOMEL and DAINTY exit. CIT-WIT, his sword still drawn, remains onstage.]

620Doctor   Look[ing] out [from stage window] above*   Help here! Help the Lady! Help the Lady!!

621Cit-witWe are a-coming, you shall have help enough, I warrant!† What’s the matter? You shall not lack for help —
[CIT-WIT] flourish[es] his sword.

622Ferdinand   Above unseen*   Away, Medusa!* Hence, thou hast transformed me! Stone, stone, I am all stone! Bring mortar and make a bulwark† of me.

623Cit-witOh, that’s the madman! How madly he talks!

624FerdinandHold me not down.

625Cit-witStones* to make a bulwark, quotha!† If he had but to make a brace of demi-culverin* bullets, they were thumpers,† I think.

626FerdinandHold me not down, but rear me up, and make me my own statue!
Enter STRANGELOVE, SWAIN-WIT, COURT-WIT, DAINTY [and] PHIL[OMEL].*

627StrangeloveWas ever such a practice?†

628Court-witA mere accident† of madness.

629StrangeloveI say it was a practice† in the Doctor.

630DaintyYet he called out for help.

631StrangeloveYou had broke up the door first. That was but to colour† his treachery.

632Swain-witA new way, and a very learned one, I promise you, to cure madness with a plaster† of warm lady-guts.

633Cit-witHe would ha’had a mad bout with my Lady, it seems. He would ha’ vented† his madness into her. And she could ha’ drawn better than the leeches.*

634Court-witIf you believe this, Madam, tho’ Sir Ferdinand be by his madness excusable in the attempt, you ought to be revenged upon the doctor.

635Swain-witLet’s cut him into pieces, Madam.

636StrangeloveI’ll think upon some way to make him a dreadful example to all the Pandarean* doctors i’the town. Come in, gentlemen, and help me with your advices.
[All start to exit, DAINTY taking PHILOMEL by the arm as they move off.]

637Cit-witYou shall want† no advice, Madam, no strength. Let’s go, sir.
[CIT-WIT detaches PHILOMEL from DAINTY.]

638PhilomelWhat mean you, Mr. Cit-wit?

639Cit-witI have sworn†. Therefore I say no more, but I have sworn.[All exit.]*

Edited by Marion O'Connor