MAL.[427] Infernal Jove, great prince of Tartary, With humble reverence poor Malbecco speaks, Still trembling with the fatal memory Of his so late concluded tragedy. I was (with thanks to your great bounty) bred A wealthy lord, whilst that I liv'd on earth; And so might have continu'd to this day, Had not that plague of mankind fall'n on me: For I (poor man) join'd woe unto my name By choosing out a woman for my wife. A wife! a curse ordained for the world. Fair Helena! fair she was indeed, But foully stain'd with inward wickedness. I kept her bravely, and I lov'd her dear; But that dear love did cost my life and all. To reckon up a thousand of her pranks, Her pride, her wasteful spending, her unkindness, Her false dissembling, seeming sanctity, Her scolding, pouting, prating, meddling, And twenty hundred more of the same stamp, Were but to heap[428] an endless catalogue Of what the world is plagu'd with every day. But for the main of that I have to tell, It chanced thus--Late in a rainy night, A crew of gallants came unto my house, And (will I, nill I) would forsooth be lodg'd. I brought them in, and made them all good cheer (Such as I had in store), and lodg'd them soft. Amongst them one, ycleped[429] Paridell (The falsest thief that ever trod on ground), Robb'd me, and with him stole away my wife. I (for I lov'd her dear) pursu'd the thief, And after many days in travel spent, Found her amongst a crew of satyrs wild, Kissing and colling[430] all the livelong night. I spake her fair, and pray'd her to return; But she in scorn commands me to be gone, And glad I was to fly, to save my life. But when I backward came unto my house, I find it spoil'd, and all my treasure gone. Desp'rate and mad, I ran I knew not whither, Calling and crying out on heaven and fate, Till, seeing none to pity my distress, I threw myself down headlong on a rock, And so concluded all my ills at once. Now, judge you, justice benchers, if my wife Were not the instrument to end my life. PLU. Can it be possible (you lords of hell) Malbecco's tale of women should be true? Is marriage now become so great a curse, That whilom was the comfort of the world? MIN. Women, it seems, have lost their native shame, As no man better may complain than I; Though not of any whom I made my wife, But of my daughter, who procured my fall. AEAC. 'Tis strange what plaints are brought us every day Of men made miserable by marriage; So that, amongst a thousand, scarcely ten Have not some grievous actions 'gainst their wives. RHA. My lord, if Rhadamanth might counsel you, Your grace should send some one into the world, That might make proof if it be true or no. PLU. And wisely hast thou counseled, Rhadamanth, Call in Belphegor to me presently; [_One of the furies goes for_ BELPHEGOR. He is the fittest that I know in hell To undertake a task of such import; For he is patient, mild, and pitiful-- Humours but ill agreeing with our kingdom. _Enter_ BELPHEGOR.