The Devil’s Law Case ACT 1. SCENE 1 . by John Webster Lyrics
The action takes place at Naples
Enter Romelio, and Prospero
Prospero:
You have shown a world of wealth; I did not think
There had been a merchant liv'd in Italy
Of half your substance.
Romelio:
I'll give the King of Spain
Ten thousand ducats yearly, and discharge
my yearly custom. The Hollanders scarce trade
More generally than I: my factors' wives
Wear shaperoons of velvet, and my scriveners
Merely through my employment, grow so rich,
They build their palaces and belvederes
With musical water-works: never in my life
Had I loss at sea. They call me on th'exchange,
The fortunate young man, and make great suit
To venture with me. Shall I tell you sir,
Of a strange confidence in my way of trading?
I reckon it as certain as the gain
In erecting a lottery.
Prospero:
I pray, sir, what do you think
Of Signor Baptista's estate?
Romelio:
A mere beggar:
He's worth some fifty thousand ducats.
Prospero:
Is not that well?
Romelio:
How, well? For a man to be melted to snow-water,
With toiling in the world from three and twenty,
Till threescore, for poor fifty thousand ducats!
Prospero: To your estate 'tis little I confess:
You have the spring tide of gold.
Romelio:
Faith, and for silver,
Should I not send it packing to th'East Indies,
We should have a glut on't.
Enter Servant.
Servant:
Here's the great Lord Contarino.
Prospero:
O, I know
His business, he's a suitor to your sister.
Romelio:
Yes sir, but to you-
As my most trusted friend, I utter it-
I will break the alliance.
Prospero: You are ill-advis'd then;
There lives not a completer gentleman
In Italy, nor of a more ancient house.
Romelio:
What tell you me of gentry? 'Tis nought else
But a superstitious relic of time past:
And sift it to the true worth, it is nothing
But ancient riches: and in him you know
They are pitifully in the wane. He makes his colour
Of visiting us so often, to sell land,
And thinks if he can gain my sister's love,
To recover the treble value.
Prospero: Sure he loves her
Entirely, and she deserves it.
Romelio:
Faith, though she were
Crook'd-shoulder'd, having such a portion,
She would have noble suitors. But truth is,
I would wish my noble venturer take heed;
It may be whiles he hopes to catch a gilthead,
He may draw up a gudgeon.
Enter Contarino.
Prospero:
He's come. Sir I will leave you.
Exit Prospero and Servant
Contarino:
I sent you the evidence of the piece of land
I motioned to you for the sale.
Romelio:
Yes
Contarino:
Has your counsel perus'd it?
Romelio:
Not yet my Lord. Do you
Intend to travel?
Contarino:
No.
Romelio: O then you lose
That which makes a man most absolute.
Contarino:
Yet I have heard
Of divers, that in passing of the Alps,
Have but exchang'd their virtues at dear rate
For other vices.
Romelio:
O my Lord, lie not idle;
The chiefest action for a man of great spirit,
Is never to be out of action. We should think
The soul was never put into the body,
Which has so many rare and curious pieces
Of mathematical motion, to stand still.
Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds:
In the trenches for the soldier; in the wakeful study
For the scholar; in the furrows of the sea
For men of our profession: of all which
Arise and spring up honour. Come, I know
You have some noble great design in hand,
That you levy so much money.
Contarino:
Sir, I'll tell you,
The greatest part of it I mean to employ
In payment of my debts, and the remainder
Is like to bring me into greater bonds,
As I aim it.
Romelio: How sir?
Contarino:
I intend it
For the charge of my wedding.
Romelio: Are you to be married, my Lord?
Contarino:
Yes sir; and I must now entreat your pardon,
That I have conceal'd from you a business
Wherein you had at first been call'd to counsel,
But that I thought it a less fault in friendship,
To engage myself thus far without your knowledge,
Than to do it against your will: another reason
Was that I would not publish to the world,
Nor have it whisper'd, scarce, what wealthy voyage
I went about, till I had got the mine
In mine own possession.
Romelio: You are dark to me yet.
Contarino:
I'll now remove the cloud. Sir, your sister and I
Are vow'd each other's, and there only wants
Her worthy mother's, and your fair consents
To style it marriage. This is a way,
Not only to make a friendship, but confirm it
For our posterities. How do you look upon't?
Romelio: Believe me sir, as on the principal column
To advance our house: why you bring honour with you,
Which is the soul of wealth. I shall be proud
To live to see my little nephews ride
O'th upper hand of their uncles; and the daughters
Be rank'd by heralds at solemnities
Before the mother: all this deriv'd
From your nobility. Do not blame me sir,
If I be taken with't exceedingly:
For this same honour with us citizens,
Is a thing we are mainly fond of, especially
When it comes without money, which is very seldom.
But as you do perceive my present temper,
Be sure I am yours - [aside] fir'd with scorn and laughter
At your over-confident purpose- and no doubt
My mother will be of your mind.
Contarino:
'Tis my hope sir.
Exit Romelio
I do observe how this Romelio
Has very worthy parts, were they not blasted
By insolent vainglory. There rests now
The mother's approbation to the match,
Who is a woman of that state and bearing,
Though she be city-born, both in her language,
Her garments, and her table, she excels
Our ladies of the Court: she goes not gaudy,
Yet I have seen her wear one diamond,
Would have bought twenty gay ones out of their clothes,
And some of them, without the greater grace,
Out of their honesties.
Enter Leonora
She comes, I will try
How she stands affected to me, without relating
My contract with her daughter.
Leonora:
Sir, you are nobly welcome, and presume
You are in a place that's wholly dedicated
To your service.
Contarino:
I am ever bound to you
For many special favours.
Leonora:
Sir, your fame
Renders you most worthy of it.
Contarino:
It could never have got
A sweeter air to fly in, than your breath.
Leonora:
You have been strange a long time; you are weary
Of our unseasonable time of feeding:
Indeed, th'exchange bell makes us dine so late.
I think the ladies of the Court from us
Learn to lie so long abed.
Contarino:
They have a kind of exchange among them too.
Marry, unless it be to hear of news, I take it,
Theirs is like the New Burse, Thinly furnish'd
With tires and new fashions. I have a suit to you.
Leonora:
I would not have you value it the less,
If I say, 'tis granted already.
Contarino:
You are all bounty.
'Tis to bestow your picture on me.
Leonora:
O sir,
Shadows are coveted in summer; and with me,
'Tis fall o'th' leaf.
Contarino:
You enjoy the best of time:
This latter spring of yours shows in my eye,
More fruitful and more temperate withall,
Than that whose date is only limited
By the music of the cuckoo.
Leonora:
Indeed sir, I dare tell you,
My looking glass is a true one, and as yet
It does not terrify me. Must you have my picture?
Contarino:
So please you lady, and I shall preserve it
As a most choice object.
Leonora:
You will enjoin me to a strange punishment:
With what a compell'd face a woman sits
While she is drawing! I have noted divers,
Either to feign smiles, or suck in the lips,
To have a little mouth; ruffle the cheeks,
To have the dimple seen, and so disorder
The face with affectation, at next sitting
It has not been the same. I have known others
Have lost the entire fashion of their face,
In half an hour's sitting.
Contarino:
How?
Leonora:
In hot weather,
The painting on their face has been so mellow,
They have left the poor man harder work by half,
To mend the copy he wrought by. But indeed,
If ever I would have mine drawn to'th' life,
I would have a painter steal it, at such a time
I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers;
There is then a heavenly beauty in't; the soul
Moves in the superficies.
Contarino:
Excellent lady,
Now you teach beauty a preservative,
More than 'gainst fading colours; and your judgement
Is perfect in all things.
Leonora:
Indeed sir, I am a widow,
And want the addition to make it so:
For man's experience has still been held
Woman's best eyesight. I pray sir tell me,
You are about to sell a piece of land
To my son, I hear.
Contarino:
'Tis truth.
Leonora:
Now I coul rather wish,
That noblemen would ever live i'th' country,
Rather than make their visits up to the city
About such business. O sir, noble houses
Have no such goodly prospects any way,
As into their own land: the decay of that,
Next to their begging church land, is a ruin
Worth all men's pity. Sir, I have forty thousand crowns
Sleep in my chest, shall waken when you please,
And fly to your commands. Will you stay supper?
Contarino:
I cannot, worthy lady.
Leonora: I would not have you come hither sir, to sell,
But to settle your estate. I hope you understand
Wherefore I make this proffer: so I leave you.
Exit Leonora
Contarino:
What a treasury have I pearch'd! 'I hope
You understand wherefore I make this proffer.'
She has got some intelligence, how I intend to marry
Her daughter, and ingenuously perceiv'd
That by her picture, which I beg'd of her,
I meant the fair Jolenta. Here's a letter,
Which gives express charge, not to visit her
Till midnight: [reads]
Fail not to come, for 'tis a business
That concerns both our honours.
Yours in danger to be lost, Jolenta.
'Tis a strange injuction; what should be the business?
She is not chang'd I hope. I'll thither straight:
For women's resolutions in such deeds,
Like bees, light oft on flowers, and oft on weeds.
Exit.
Enter Romelio, and Prospero
Prospero:
You have shown a world of wealth; I did not think
There had been a merchant liv'd in Italy
Of half your substance.
Romelio:
I'll give the King of Spain
Ten thousand ducats yearly, and discharge
my yearly custom. The Hollanders scarce trade
More generally than I: my factors' wives
Wear shaperoons of velvet, and my scriveners
Merely through my employment, grow so rich,
They build their palaces and belvederes
With musical water-works: never in my life
Had I loss at sea. They call me on th'exchange,
The fortunate young man, and make great suit
To venture with me. Shall I tell you sir,
Of a strange confidence in my way of trading?
I reckon it as certain as the gain
In erecting a lottery.
Prospero:
I pray, sir, what do you think
Of Signor Baptista's estate?
Romelio:
A mere beggar:
He's worth some fifty thousand ducats.
Prospero:
Is not that well?
Romelio:
How, well? For a man to be melted to snow-water,
With toiling in the world from three and twenty,
Till threescore, for poor fifty thousand ducats!
Prospero: To your estate 'tis little I confess:
You have the spring tide of gold.
Romelio:
Faith, and for silver,
Should I not send it packing to th'East Indies,
We should have a glut on't.
Enter Servant.
Servant:
Here's the great Lord Contarino.
Prospero:
O, I know
His business, he's a suitor to your sister.
Romelio:
Yes sir, but to you-
As my most trusted friend, I utter it-
I will break the alliance.
Prospero: You are ill-advis'd then;
There lives not a completer gentleman
In Italy, nor of a more ancient house.
Romelio:
What tell you me of gentry? 'Tis nought else
But a superstitious relic of time past:
And sift it to the true worth, it is nothing
But ancient riches: and in him you know
They are pitifully in the wane. He makes his colour
Of visiting us so often, to sell land,
And thinks if he can gain my sister's love,
To recover the treble value.
Prospero: Sure he loves her
Entirely, and she deserves it.
Romelio:
Faith, though she were
Crook'd-shoulder'd, having such a portion,
She would have noble suitors. But truth is,
I would wish my noble venturer take heed;
It may be whiles he hopes to catch a gilthead,
He may draw up a gudgeon.
Enter Contarino.
Prospero:
He's come. Sir I will leave you.
Exit Prospero and Servant
Contarino:
I sent you the evidence of the piece of land
I motioned to you for the sale.
Romelio:
Yes
Contarino:
Has your counsel perus'd it?
Romelio:
Not yet my Lord. Do you
Intend to travel?
Contarino:
No.
Romelio: O then you lose
That which makes a man most absolute.
Contarino:
Yet I have heard
Of divers, that in passing of the Alps,
Have but exchang'd their virtues at dear rate
For other vices.
Romelio:
O my Lord, lie not idle;
The chiefest action for a man of great spirit,
Is never to be out of action. We should think
The soul was never put into the body,
Which has so many rare and curious pieces
Of mathematical motion, to stand still.
Virtue is ever sowing of her seeds:
In the trenches for the soldier; in the wakeful study
For the scholar; in the furrows of the sea
For men of our profession: of all which
Arise and spring up honour. Come, I know
You have some noble great design in hand,
That you levy so much money.
Contarino:
Sir, I'll tell you,
The greatest part of it I mean to employ
In payment of my debts, and the remainder
Is like to bring me into greater bonds,
As I aim it.
Romelio: How sir?
Contarino:
I intend it
For the charge of my wedding.
Romelio: Are you to be married, my Lord?
Contarino:
Yes sir; and I must now entreat your pardon,
That I have conceal'd from you a business
Wherein you had at first been call'd to counsel,
But that I thought it a less fault in friendship,
To engage myself thus far without your knowledge,
Than to do it against your will: another reason
Was that I would not publish to the world,
Nor have it whisper'd, scarce, what wealthy voyage
I went about, till I had got the mine
In mine own possession.
Romelio: You are dark to me yet.
Contarino:
I'll now remove the cloud. Sir, your sister and I
Are vow'd each other's, and there only wants
Her worthy mother's, and your fair consents
To style it marriage. This is a way,
Not only to make a friendship, but confirm it
For our posterities. How do you look upon't?
Romelio: Believe me sir, as on the principal column
To advance our house: why you bring honour with you,
Which is the soul of wealth. I shall be proud
To live to see my little nephews ride
O'th upper hand of their uncles; and the daughters
Be rank'd by heralds at solemnities
Before the mother: all this deriv'd
From your nobility. Do not blame me sir,
If I be taken with't exceedingly:
For this same honour with us citizens,
Is a thing we are mainly fond of, especially
When it comes without money, which is very seldom.
But as you do perceive my present temper,
Be sure I am yours - [aside] fir'd with scorn and laughter
At your over-confident purpose- and no doubt
My mother will be of your mind.
Contarino:
'Tis my hope sir.
Exit Romelio
I do observe how this Romelio
Has very worthy parts, were they not blasted
By insolent vainglory. There rests now
The mother's approbation to the match,
Who is a woman of that state and bearing,
Though she be city-born, both in her language,
Her garments, and her table, she excels
Our ladies of the Court: she goes not gaudy,
Yet I have seen her wear one diamond,
Would have bought twenty gay ones out of their clothes,
And some of them, without the greater grace,
Out of their honesties.
Enter Leonora
She comes, I will try
How she stands affected to me, without relating
My contract with her daughter.
Leonora:
Sir, you are nobly welcome, and presume
You are in a place that's wholly dedicated
To your service.
Contarino:
I am ever bound to you
For many special favours.
Leonora:
Sir, your fame
Renders you most worthy of it.
Contarino:
It could never have got
A sweeter air to fly in, than your breath.
Leonora:
You have been strange a long time; you are weary
Of our unseasonable time of feeding:
Indeed, th'exchange bell makes us dine so late.
I think the ladies of the Court from us
Learn to lie so long abed.
Contarino:
They have a kind of exchange among them too.
Marry, unless it be to hear of news, I take it,
Theirs is like the New Burse, Thinly furnish'd
With tires and new fashions. I have a suit to you.
Leonora:
I would not have you value it the less,
If I say, 'tis granted already.
Contarino:
You are all bounty.
'Tis to bestow your picture on me.
Leonora:
O sir,
Shadows are coveted in summer; and with me,
'Tis fall o'th' leaf.
Contarino:
You enjoy the best of time:
This latter spring of yours shows in my eye,
More fruitful and more temperate withall,
Than that whose date is only limited
By the music of the cuckoo.
Leonora:
Indeed sir, I dare tell you,
My looking glass is a true one, and as yet
It does not terrify me. Must you have my picture?
Contarino:
So please you lady, and I shall preserve it
As a most choice object.
Leonora:
You will enjoin me to a strange punishment:
With what a compell'd face a woman sits
While she is drawing! I have noted divers,
Either to feign smiles, or suck in the lips,
To have a little mouth; ruffle the cheeks,
To have the dimple seen, and so disorder
The face with affectation, at next sitting
It has not been the same. I have known others
Have lost the entire fashion of their face,
In half an hour's sitting.
Contarino:
How?
Leonora:
In hot weather,
The painting on their face has been so mellow,
They have left the poor man harder work by half,
To mend the copy he wrought by. But indeed,
If ever I would have mine drawn to'th' life,
I would have a painter steal it, at such a time
I were devoutly kneeling at my prayers;
There is then a heavenly beauty in't; the soul
Moves in the superficies.
Contarino:
Excellent lady,
Now you teach beauty a preservative,
More than 'gainst fading colours; and your judgement
Is perfect in all things.
Leonora:
Indeed sir, I am a widow,
And want the addition to make it so:
For man's experience has still been held
Woman's best eyesight. I pray sir tell me,
You are about to sell a piece of land
To my son, I hear.
Contarino:
'Tis truth.
Leonora:
Now I coul rather wish,
That noblemen would ever live i'th' country,
Rather than make their visits up to the city
About such business. O sir, noble houses
Have no such goodly prospects any way,
As into their own land: the decay of that,
Next to their begging church land, is a ruin
Worth all men's pity. Sir, I have forty thousand crowns
Sleep in my chest, shall waken when you please,
And fly to your commands. Will you stay supper?
Contarino:
I cannot, worthy lady.
Leonora: I would not have you come hither sir, to sell,
But to settle your estate. I hope you understand
Wherefore I make this proffer: so I leave you.
Exit Leonora
Contarino:
What a treasury have I pearch'd! 'I hope
You understand wherefore I make this proffer.'
She has got some intelligence, how I intend to marry
Her daughter, and ingenuously perceiv'd
That by her picture, which I beg'd of her,
I meant the fair Jolenta. Here's a letter,
Which gives express charge, not to visit her
Till midnight: [reads]
Fail not to come, for 'tis a business
That concerns both our honours.
Yours in danger to be lost, Jolenta.
'Tis a strange injuction; what should be the business?
She is not chang'd I hope. I'll thither straight:
For women's resolutions in such deeds,
Like bees, light oft on flowers, and oft on weeds.
Exit.