Act Four Scene Two
Enter Cornego, Balthazar.
Cornego The Lady Onaelia dresseth the stead of her commendations in the most courtly attire that words can be clothed with, from herself to you, by me.
BALTHAZAR
So Sir, and what disease troubles her now?
CORNEGO The King’s evil. And here she hath sent something to you, wrapped up in a white sheet, you need not fear to open it, ’tis no course.
BALTHAZAR What’s here? A letter minced into five morsels? What was she doing when thou camest from her?
CORNEGO
At her prick-song.
BALTHAZAR So me thinks, for here’s nothing but sol-re-me-fa-mi. What crotchet fills her head now, canst tell?
CORNEGO
No crotchets, ’tis only the Cliff has made her mad.
BALTHAZAR
What instrument played she upon?
CORNEGO
A wind instrument, she did nothing but sigh.
BALTHAZAR
Sol, re, me, fa, mi.
CORNEGO My wit has always a singing head, I have found out her note captain.
BALTHAZAR
The tune? Come.
CORNEGO Sol, my soul. Re, is all rent and torn like a ragamuffin. Me, mend it good captain. Fa, fa. What’s fa Captain?
BALTHAZAR
Fa, why farewell and be hanged.
CORNEGO Mi Captain, with all my heart. Have I tickled my Lady’s fiddle well?
BALTHAZAR Oh, but you stick wants rosin <35> to make the strings sound clearly. No, this double virginal, being cunningly touched, another matter of jack leaps up then is now in mine eye. Sol, re me fa, mi, I have it now. Solus Rex me facit miseram <36>. Alas poor Lady, tell her no apothecary in Spain has any of that assa foetida <37 > she writes for.
CORNEGO
Assa foetida? What’s that?
BALTHAZARA
A thing to be taken in a glister-pipe <38>.
CORNEGO
Why, what ails my Lady?
BALTHAZAR What ails she? Why when she cries out, Solus Rex me facit miseram, she says in the Hypocronicall <39> language, that she is so miserably tormented with the wind colic that it racks her very soul.
CORNEGO
I said somewhat cut her soul in pieces.
BALTHAZAR
But go to her, and say the oven is heating.
CORNEGO
And what shall be baked in’t?
BALTHAZAR Carp pies.<40> And besides, tell her the hole in her coat shall be mended, and tell her if the dial of good days <41> goes true, why then bounce buckrum.<42>
CORNEGO
The devil lies sick of the mulligrubs.<43>
BALTHAZAR
Or the Cony is dub’d, and three sheepskins …
CORNEGO
With the wrong side outward …
BALTHAZAR
Shall make the fox a night-cap.
CORNEGO
So the goose talks French to the buzzard.
BALTHAZAR But, Sir, if evil days jostle our prognostication to the wall, then say there’s a fire in a whore-masters cod-piece.
CORNEGO
And a poisoned bag-pudding in Tom Thumb’s belly.
BALTHAZAR
The first cut be thine. Farewell.
CORNEGO
Is this all?
BALTHAZAR
Would’st not trust an Almanac?
CORNEGO Not a coranta <44> neither, though it were sealed with butter, <45> and yet I know where they both lie passing well.
Enter Lopez.
LOPEZ
The King sends round about the court to seek you.
BALTHAZAR
Away Otterhound.
CORNEGO
Dancing bear, I’m gone.
Exit Cornego. Enter King attended.
KING
A Private room,
Exeunt, King and Balthazar remain
I’st done? Hast drawn thy two-edged sword out yet?
BALTHAZAR No, I was striking at the two iron bars that hinder your passage, and see Sir.
Draws.
KING
What mean’st thou?
BALTHAZAR
The edge abated, feel.
KING
No, no I see it.
BALTHAZAR
As blunt as ignorance.
KING
How? Put up - so - how?
BALTHAZAR I saw by chance hanging in Cardinal Alvarez gallery, a picture of hell.
KING
So what of that?
BALTHAZAR There lay upon burnt straw ten thousand brave fellows all stark naked, some leaning upon crowns, some on Mitres, some on bags of gold. Glory, in another corner lay, a feather beaten in the rain. Beauty was turned into a watching candle that went out stinking. Ambition went upon a huge high pair of stilts but horribly rotten. Some in another nook were killing Kings, and some having their elbows shoved forward by Kings to murder others. I was, me thought, half in hell myself whist I stood to view this piece.
KING
Was this all?
BALTHAZAR Was’t not enough to see that a man is more healthful that eats dirty puddings, than he that feeds on a corrupted conscience?
KING
Conscience! What’s that? A conjuring book ne’r opened
Without the reader’s danger. ’Tis indeed
A scarecrow set i’th world to frighten weak fools.
Hast thou seen fields paved o’er with carcasses,
Now to be tender-footed, not to tread
On a boy’s mangled quarters, and a woman’s!
BALTHAZAR Nay, Sir, I have searched the records of the Low-Countries, and find that by your pardon I need not care a pin for goblins, and therefore I will do it Sir. I did recoil because I was double charged.
KING
No more. Here comes a satyr with sharp horns.
Enter Cardinal, and Medina like a French Doctor.
CARDINAL
Sir, here’s a Frenchman charged with some strange business
Which to close ear only he’ll deliver,
Or else to none.
KING
A Frenchman?
MEDINA
Oui, Monsieur.
KING
Cannot he speak the Spanish?
MEDINA Si Signor, un Poco - Monsieur Acontez in de Corner, me come for offer to your Bon Grace mi trezhumbla service, by gar no John fidleco shall put into your near braver melody dan dis un petite pipe shall play to your great bon Grace.
KING
What is the tune you strike up, touch the string.
MEDINA Dis - me has run up and down mine Country and learn many fine thing, and mush knavery, now more and all dis me know you’ll jumbla de fine vench and fill her belly with garsoone, her name is La Madam …
KING
Onaelia.
MEDINA She by gar. Now Monsieur dis Madam send for me to help her malady, being very naught of her corpus, her body, me know you no point loves dis vench. But royal Monsieur donne moye ten thousand French Crowns she shall kick up her tail by gar, and beshide lie dead as dog in de shannell.
KING
Speak low.
MEDINA
As de bag-pipe when de wind is puff, Gar beigh,
KING
Thou namest ten thousand Crowns, I’ll treble them
Rid me of this leprosy. Thy name?
MEDINA
Monsieur Doctor Devil.
KING
Shall I a second wheel add to this mischief
To set it faster going? If one break,
T’other may keep his motion.
MEDINA
Esselent fort boone.
KING
Balthazar.
To give thy sword an edge again, this Frenchman
Shall whet thee on, that if thy pistol fail,
Or poniard, this can send the poison home.
BALTHAZAR
Brother Cain we’ll shake hands.
MEDINA
In de bowl of de bloody busher. ’Tis very fine wholesome.
KING
And more to arm your resolution,
I’ll tune this Churchman so, that he shall chime
In sounds harmonious, merit to that man
Whose hand has but a finger in that act.
BALTHAZAR
That music were worth hearing.
KING
Holy father,
You must give pardon to me in unlocking
A cave stuffed full with serpents, which my State
Threaten to poison, and it lies in you
To break their bed with thunder of your voice.
CARDINAL
How princely son?
KING
Suppose a universal
Hot pestilence beat her mortiferous wings
O’er all my kingdoms, am I not bound in soul,
To empty all our academies of doctors
And Aesculapian <46> spirits to charm this plague?
CARDINAL
You are.
KING
Or had the canon made a breach
Into our rich Escurial <47>, down to beat it
About our ears, should I stop this breach
Spare even our richest Ornaments, nay our crown,
Could it keep bullets off.
CARDINAL
No sir, you should not.
KING
This linstock <48> gives you fire. Shall then that strumpet
And bastard breathe quick vengeance in my face,
Making my Kingdom reel, my subjects stagger
In their obedience, and yet live?
CARDINAL
How? Live!
Shed not their bloods to gain a kingdom greater
Than ten times this.
MEDINA
Pish, not matter how Red-cap and his wit run.
KING
As I am Catholic King, I’ll have their hearts
Panting in these two hands.
CARDINAL
Dare you turn hangman?
Is this religion Catholic to kill
What even brute beasts abhor to do, your own!
To cut in sunder wedlock’s sacred knot
Tied by heaven’s fingers! To make Spain a bonfire
To quench which must a second deluge rain
In showers of blood, no water. If you do this
There is an arm armipotent that can fling you
Into a base grave, and your palaces
With lightening strike, and of their ruins make
A tomb for you, unpitied and abhorred,
Bear witness all you lamps celestial
I wash my hands of this.
KING
Rise my good angel,
Whose holy tunes beat from me that evil spirit
Which jogs mine elbow, hence thou dog of hell.
MEDINA
Bow wow.
KING Bark out no more thou mastiff, get you all gone, And let my soul sleep. [Aside to Balthazar] There’s gold, peace, see it done.
Exit King.
BALTHAZAR
Sirra, you salsa-perilla <49>, rascal, toads-gut, you whorson pockey
French spawn of a butsten-bellyed spider. Do you hear Monsieur?
MEDINA Why do you bark and snap at my Narcissus, as if I were de French dog?
BALTHAZAR
You cur of Cerberus litter,
[Strikes him]
You’ll poison the honest Lady? Do but once toot <50> into her chamber-pot, and I’ll make thee look worse than a witch does upon a close stool.
CARDINAL
You shall not dare to touch him, stood he here
Single before thee.
BALTHAZAR
I’ll cut the rat into anchovies.
CARDINAL
I’ll make thee kiss his hand, embrace him, love him
And call him …
Medina [reveals his true identity].
BALTHAZAR The perfection of all Spaniards, Mars in little, the best book of the art of war printed in these times. As a French doctor, I would have given you pellets for pills, but as my noblest Lord, rip my heart out in your service.
MEDINA
Thou are the truest Clock
That e’er to time paidst tribute, honest soldier,
I lost mine own shape, and put on a French
Only to try thy truth, and the King’s falsehood,
Both which I find. Now this great Spanish volume
Is opened to me, I read him o’er and o’er,
Oh what black characters are printed in him.
CARDINAL
Nothing but certain ruin threats your niece,
Without prevention. Well this plot was laid
In such disguise to sound him, they that know
How to meet dangers, are the less afraid.
Yet let me counsel you not to text down
These wrongs in red lines.
MEDINA
No, I will not, father.
Now that I have anatomised his thoughts,
I’ll read a lecture on them that shall save
Many men’s lives, and to the kingdom minister
Most wholesome surgery. Here’s our aphorism.
These letters from us in our niece’s name,
You know treat of a marriage.
CARDINAL
There’s the strong anchor
To stay all in this tempest.
MEDINA
Holy sir,
With these works you the King, and so prevail
That all these mischiefs hull <51> with flagging sail.
CARDINAL
My best in this I’ll do.
MEDINA
Soldier, thy breast
I must lock better things in.
BALTHAZAR ’Tis your chest, With three good keys to keep it from opening an honest heart, a daring hand, and a pocket which scorns money.
Exeunt.