The Wisdom of Doctor Dodypoll
From the First Quarto edition of 1600
Original Spelling. Edited by B.F. copyright © 2002, all rights reserved
Spelling in speech designations has been standardized.
Items defined in the glossary are underlined.
Run on lines (closing open endings) are indicated by ~~~.
[Enter Cassimeere, Flores with the Cup, Pesant, and the Marchant.]
MERCHANT: See signior Flores,
A Pesant that I met with neere your house:
Where since he found you not
He asked of me the place of your abode,
And heere I have brought him.
FLORES: I thanke you sir: my good lord Cassimeere,
This is the man that brought this cup to me,
Which for my ransome, we go now to offer
To my good lord the Duke.
CASSIMERE: What brings he now? ... [V.1.10]
FLORES: That will we know: come hither honest friend,
What wished occasion brings thee now to me?
PEASANT: This occasion sir, what will ye give me for it?
FLORES: Thou art a luckie fellow, let us see:
Lord Cassimere, this is the haplesse Jewell,
That represents the forme of Alberdure,
Given by Cornelia at our fatall feast,
Where hadst thou this, my good and happy friend?
PEASANT: Faith sir, I met with the young Prince all wet,
who lookt as if he had beene a quarter of a yeare drowned, ... [V.1.20]
yet prettelie come to himselfe, saving that he was so madde
to change apparell with me: in the pocket whereof sir,
I found this Jewell.
FLORES: O tell me trulie, lives prince Alberdure?
PEASANT: He lives a my word sir, but very poorelie now,
God helpe him.
CASSIMERE: Is he recovered of his Lunacie?
PEASANT: I by my faith, hee's tame inough now
Ile warrant him.
FLORES: And where is he? ... [V.1.30]
PEASANT: Naie that I cannot tell.
CASSIMERE: Come Flores hast we quicklie to the Court,
With this most happie newes.
FLORES: Come happie friend,
The most auspitious messenger to me,
That ever greeted me in Pesants weeds.
[Exeunt. Enter Doctor.]
MERCHANT: I would I could meet M. Doctor Doddie,
I have a tricke to gull the Asse withall,
I christned him right Doctor Dodipole.
Heere he comes passing luckely, Ile counterfeit ... [V.1.40]
Businesse with him in all poste haste possible:
Maister Doctor, maister Doctor?
DOCTOR: Shesue vat ayle de man?
MERCHANT: I love you maister Doctor, and therefore
with all the speed I could possiblie, I sought you out.
DOCTOR: Vell, vat?
MERCHANT: This sir, the marriage which we thought made
even now, betweene Earle Cassimere and Cornelia, was but a
jest onely to drawe you to marrie her, for she doth exceedinglie
dote upon you: and Flores her father hath invented, that ... [V.1.50]
you are betrothed to her, and is gone with a supplication to
the Duke, to enforce you to marrie her.
DOCTOR: Be garr me thought no lesse, O knave Jeweller,
O vile begger, be me trot Marshan, me studdie, me beat my
braine, me invent, me dreame upon such a ting.
MERCHANT: I know sir your wit would foresee it.
DOCTOR: O by garr, tree, four, five monthe agoe.
MERCHANT: Well sir, y'ave a perilous wit, God blesse me out
of the swinge of it: but you had best looke to it betimes; for
Earl Cassimere hath made great friends against you. ... [V.1.60]
DOCTOR: Marshan, me love, me embrace, me kisse de
will be my trot.
MERCHANT: Well sir, make haste to prevent the worste.
DOCTOR: I flie Marshan, spit de Earle, spit de wenche, spit all
bee garre, See dis Marshan, de brave Braine be garre. [Exit.]
MERCHANT: De brave braine by garre, not a whit of the
flower of wit in it. Ile to the Courte after him, and see how
he abuses the Dukes patience. [Exit.]
[Enter Alphonso, Hardenbergh, Lassinbergh, Leander,
Stro., Hosherman, Motto, and Raphe.]
ALPHONSO: Aye me, what hard extremitie is this?
Nor quick nor dead, can I beholde my sonne.
[Enter Hance in the Princes apparrell.]
HAUNCE: Beholde your sonne:
Blessing noble Father.
HARDEN: Malapart knave, art thou the Princes sonne?
HAUNCE: Aye sir, apparrell makes the man.
ALPHONSO: Unhappy man, would God I had my sonne,
So he had his Hyanthe, or my life.
LEANDER: Should he enjoy Hyanthe my Lord?
Would you forsake your love, so he did live? ... [V.2.10]
ALPHONSO: My love and life, did my deere sonne survive.
LEANDER: But were he found, or should he live my Lord,
Although Hyanthes love were the chiefe cause
Of his mishap, and amourous lunacie,
I hope your highnesse loves him over well
To let him repossesse his wits with her.
ALPHONSO: My love is dead, in sorrow for his death,
His life and wits, should ransome worlds from me.
LEANDER: My Lord, I had a vision this last night,
Wherein me thought I saw the prince your sonme, ... [V.2.20]
Sit in my fathers garden with Hyanthe,
Under the shaddow of the Lawrell tree.
With anger therefore, you should be so wrongde,
I wakt, but then contemned it as a dreame,
Yet since my minde beates on it mightelie,
And though I thinke it vaine, if you vouchsafe,
Ile make a triall of the truthe hereof. [Exit.]
ALPHONSO: Do good Leander: Hardenbergh your sonne
Perhaps deludes me with a visition,
To mocke my vision that deferde the Dutchesse, ... [V.2.30]
And with Hyanthe closlie keepes my sonne.
HARDEN: Your sonne was madde, and drownd,
This cannot bee.
ALPHONSO: But yet this circumventing speech,
Offered suspition of such event.
STRO.: My Lord, most fortunate were that event,
That would restore your sonne from death to life.
HARDEN: As though a vision should do such a deed.
ALPHONSO: No, no, the boyes young brain was humorous,
His servant and his Page did see him drown'd. [V.2.40]
[Enter Leander, Alberdure, Hyanthe,seeming fearefull to come forward.]
LEANDER: Come on sweet friend, I warrant thee thy love.
Shun not they fathers sight that longs for thee.
ALBERDURE: Go then before, and we will follow straight.
LEANDER: Comfort my Lord, my vision proov'd most true,
Even in that place, under the Lawrell shade,
I found them sitting just, as I beheld them
In my late vision: see sir where they come.
ALPHONSO: Am I enchanted? or see I my sonne?
I, I, the boy hath plaide the traytor with me:
O you young villaine, trust you with my love, ... [V.2.50]
How smoothe the cunning treacher lookt on it.
HARDEN: But sirra can this be?
LEANDER: You knew him to be mad, these thought him drownd.
My Lord, take you no more delight to see your sonne,
Recovered of his life and wits?
ALPHONSO: See, see, how boldly the young pollytician
Can urge his practise: Sirra you shall know,
Ile not be over-reacht with your young braine:
All have agreed I see to cozen me,
But all shall faile: come Ladie, Ile have you ... [V.2.60]
Spight of all: and sonne learne you
Hereafter, to use more reverend meanes,
To obtaine of me what you desire:
I have no joy to see thee raiz'd,
From a deluding death.
HYANTHE: My Lord, 'tis tyrannie t'enforce my love.
LEANDER: I hope your Highnesse will maintaine your word.
ALPHONSO: Doost thou speake Traitor?
Straight Ile have you safe:
For daring to delude me in my love.
ALBERDURE: O friend, thou hast betraide my love in vaine,
Now am I worse, then eyther mad or drown'd:
Now have I onely wits to know my griefes,
And life to feele them.
HYANTHE: Let me go to him.
ALPHONSO: Thou shalt not have thy will,
Nor he his Love:
Neither of both know what is fit for you.
I love with judgement, and upon cold bloud,
He with youths furie, without reason's stay: ... [V.2.80]
And this shall time, and my kinde usage of thee,
Make thee discerne, meane time consider this;
That I neglect for thee a beautious Dutchesse,
Who next to thee is fairest in the world. [Enter Messenger.]
MESSENGER: My Lord, the Duke of Brunswick, and his sister
The beautious Dutchesse are arrived here.
ALPHONSO: What's that the Dutchesse?
: ~~~ Even her grace my Lord.
ALPHONSO: Why Hardenbergh ha,
Is the Dutchesse come?
HARDEN: I know not my good Lord. ... [V.2.90]
Where is the Dutchesse?
MESSENGER: Hard by my Lord.
ALPHONSO: Sounes, I am not here; go tell her so:
Or let her come, my choice is free in love.
Come my Hyanthie, stand thou close to me.
MESSENGER: My Lord, the Duke himselfe has come to urge
Your promise to him, which you must not breake.
HOSCH: Nor will you wish to breake it good my lord?
I am assur'd, when you shall see the Dutchesse,
Whose matchlesse beauties will renew the minde, ... [V.2.100]
Of her rare entertainment, and her presence,
Put all new thoughts of love out of your minde.
ALPHONSO: Well I do see 'tis best, my sweete Hyanthie,
That thou stand further.
: ~~~ Ile be gone my Lord.
ALPHONSO: Not gone, but mixe thy selfe among the rest,
What a spight is this:
Counsell me Hardenbergh.
HARDEN: The Dutchesse comes my Lord.
ALPHONSO: Out of my life, how shall I looke on her?
[Enter Constantine, Katherine, Lassenbergh, Lucilia, Cassimere,, Ite, a Songe: after the Dutchesse speakes.]
KATHERINE: How now my Lord, you looke as one dismaid, ... [V.2.110]
Have any visions troubled you of late?
ALPHONSO: Your grace, & your most princely brother here,
Are highlie welcome to the Saxon Court.
KATHERINE: O you dissemble sir:
Nor are we come in hope of welcome,
But with this poore head-peece,
To beare the brunt of all discurtesies.
CONST: My Lorde, wee come not now to urge the marriage
You sought with such hot suite, of my faire Sister;
But to resolve our selves, and all the world, ... [V.2.120]
Why you retained such meane conceipt of us,
To slight so solemne and so high a contract,
With vaine pretext of visions or of dreames.
ALPHONSO: My Lord, I heare protest by earth and heaven,
I holde your state right mightie and renowned,
And your faire sisters beauties and deserts,
To be most worthy the greatest king alive,
Only an ominous vision troubled me,
And hindered the wisht speede I would have made,
Not to dissolve it, though it were deferd, ... [V.2.130]
By such portents (as least you thinke I feigne)
Lord Hardenbergh can witnesse is most true.
HARDEN: Most true my Lord, and most prodigious.
ALPHONSO: Yet Ile contemne them with my life and all,
Ere Ile offend your grace or breed suspect
Of my firme faith, in my most honoured love.
KATHERINE: No, no, my Lord, this is your vision,
That hath not frighted but enamoured you.
ALPHONSO: O Madame, thinke you so, by heaven I sweare,
Shee's my sonnes love: sirra take her to you, ... [V.2.140]
Have I had all this care to do her grace,
To proove her vertues, and her love to thee,
And standst thou fearefull now? take her I say.
LEANDER: My Lord, he feares you will be angry with him.
ALPHONSO: You play the villaine, wherefore should he feare?
I onely proved her vertues for his sake,
And now you talke of anger, aye me wretche,
That ever I should live to be thus shamed?
ALBERDURE: Madame, I sweare, the Ladie is my love,
Therefore your highnesse cannot charge my father, ... [V.2.150]
With any wrong to your high woorth in her.
CONST: Sister, you see we utterly mistake the kinde
And princelie dealing of the Duke:
Therefore without more ceremonious doubts,
Lets reconfirme the contract and his love.
KATHERINE: I warrant you, my Lord the Duke dissembles.
ALPHONSO: Heere on my knees, at the Alter of those feete,
I offer up in pure and sacred breath,
The true speech of my hart, and hart it selfe.
Require no more, if thou be princelie borne, ... [V.2.160]
And not of Rockes, or ruthelesse Tygers bred.
KATHERINE: My Lord, I kindlie cry you mercy now,
Ashamed that you should injurie your estate,
To kneele to me: and vowe before these Lords
To make you all amends you can desire.
FLORES: Madame, in admiration of your Grace
And princelie wisedom: and to gratifie
The long wisht joye, done to my Lord the Duke,
I here present your highnesse with this Cup,
Wrought admirablie by th' art of Spirits, ... [V.2.170]
Of substance faire, more riche then earthly Jemmes,
Whose valew no mans judgement can esteeme.
ALPHONSO: Flores, Ile interrupt the Dutchesse thankes
And for the present thou hast given to her,
To strengthen her consent to my desires,
I recompense thee with a free release,
Of all offenses twixt thy selfe and me.
FLORES: I humblie thanke your Excellence.
KATHERINE: But where is now unkinde Earle Lassinbergh?
That injuries his faire love, and makes her weare ... [V.2.180]
This worthlesse garland: come sir make amends,
Or we will heere awarde you worthie penance.
LASSIN: Madame, since her departure I have done
More hartie penance then hart could wish,
And vowe hereafter to live ever hers.
KATHERINE: Then let us cast aside these forlorne wreathes,
And with our better fortunes change our habits.
[Enter Doctor in poste, the Marchant following him.]
DOCTOR: O stay, my Lorte, me pray you on knee, vor staie.
ALPHONSO: What's the matter Doctor?
DOCTOR: O me bret be garr, for haste. ... [V.2.190]
CONST: What ayles the hastie Doctor?
DOCTOR: My Lorte be garr he lyes falslie in his troate;
Me proove by the duell dat he be the fallce knave.
ALPHONSO: Who is it man, with whom thou art so bold?
DOCTOR: My Lorte, if me make my contrack of marriage,
if me be not as loose as de vide worlde, if me doe not alleadge.
ALPHONSO: I praie thee man what meanest thou?
DOCTOR: Be garr enforme your grace vat he dare, I will
proove by good argument and raison, dat he is de fallce
beggerlie Jeweller, dat I no point marrie Cornelia; vat say ... [V.2.200]
CASSIMERE: My Lord, no doubt some man hath guld the
Doctor, supposing he should be enforste to wed her that is
my wife, and ever scorned him.
DOCTOR: Vat you say? de Marshan tell a me I marrie
Cornelia spit my Nose.
ALPHONSO: The Marchant I perceive hath trimde you Doctor,
And comb'd you smoothelie:
Faithe I can him thanke,
That thus revives our meeting with such mirth. .... [V.2.210]
DOCTOR: O be bright de heaven, est a possible, and by
heaven I be revenge dat vile Marshen, me make de medicine
drie up de Sea, seven tousand, tousand million d'stlloe, fife
hundred, hundred dram Suffian, Marquesite, Balestiae,
Hematete, Cortemedian, Churcacholl, Pantasite,
Petrofidem, Hynape, and by garr de hot Pepre; me make
de vinde, de greate collicke puffe, blowe, by garr, teare de Sayle,
beate de maste, cracke de Ship in tousand tousand peeces. [Exit.]
ALPHONSO: Farewell gentle Doctor Dodipoll:
And now deere Ladie, let us celebrate ... [V.2.220]
Our happie royall nuptials and my sonnes,
With this our sweete and generall amitie,
Which heaven smile on with his goulden eye.
Finis Actus Quinti & ultimi.
Imprinted at London by Thomas Creede, for
Richard Olive, dwelling in Long-lane.
[Addition following V.2.156, not in Malone, or first (and only) Quarto.]
It is not love doth speak, for such strong terms
Hath ever love. Dear Sister, do but note
The fruit tree giveth not that is not pruned,
For nature teacheth us th' extravagance
Of outward show doth sap the inward stock
In substance and of worth. It is love
That like the gentle drop of rain speaks not
Its name unto the earth, yet calls from forth
The ground the weary seed. (Nor yet the voice
Of angels can amaze the knotted bud ... [V.2. additions.10]
As doth a single drop of rain from heaven.)
And so true love should do, for that speaks not
That does in deeds what words may never do.
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