Excerpts from <title level="m">Beauty Dishonored Written Under the Title of Shore’s Wife Author Anthony Chute Editor Toby Malone Conversion and Remediation LEMDO Team Markup and Metadata LEMDO Team Copyright Holder (Content) Toby Malone Copyright Holder (XML and interface) University of Victoria Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada McMaster University Poculi Ludique Societas University of Waterloo University of Toronto Centre for Drama, Theatre & Performance Studies University of Victoria Friends of the ISE

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Prepared by Toby Malone for the Queen’s Men Editions.

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Excerpts from Beauty Dishonored Written Under the Title of Shore’s Wife (Chute)

Hence hapsFortuitously occurs (OED hap, v.1 3). her fortune to be illed so much, Whom fourth king Edward excellently prized, And hence it haps, because there was none such, Shore’s wife, most fair, the most foul is surmised,Alleged, charged as being (OED surmise, v. 1.a). And hence it haps, that dead to all, disdain her, Her wronged ghost striveth to complain her. Who, whilst she lived the subject of impiety, Ground of a thousand voices disagreeing, The matter of unhallowedProfaned, deprived of holy or sacred character (OED unhallowed, adj. 1). fame’s variety, (Which from her good hapFortune, luck, success (OED hap, n.1 1). had unworthy being) Even on her dying bed divinely sorry, Pensive in heart, she weeps forth thus her story. For now, ambitious in her fabling humorFalse, idle (OED fable, adj. 2); disposition, inclination (OED humour, n. 6.a). Unto my king, my beauty she dispenses, To whom she imparts a wonder-working rumor, In speech authentical, to charm his senses: With act, his eyes, his ears, with words she won, His heart, his love, his soul, ere she had done. She seemed sober, hearty, and precise, Framing her false looks to a pleading fitness: The unthought-on truth she adapts her humbled eyes, And every act seemed her tale’s truth to witness: And what she thought could win the king, she wrought on In act, and speech she let not pass unthought on. So as when at his oracles disclosing, Divining Proteus, prophesying small things His self from color from his shape disposing, Deludes the suitor hold by seeming all things Making himself a monster to the view Before deceit can bring him to tell true. Monster fame so, divining on supposes: Suspicious of herself, (herself a liar), In altering tales her flattery discloses Wrought to report ill by her own desire Whilst that the king credits her tale for truth Which after turned a shame unto his youth. For had she been more ready to report it His apt belief had sooner given it credit: His willing harkening ear did well import it, Was so attentive to the tale that spread it: For this fault even is incident to kings, Too much to credit over pleasing things. And that she might the better bring to pass, Shame to my Lord, herself, and shame to me, She adds how wanton, buxom, young I was, Fit consort with his younger years to be, And when at length she had discoursed her fill, Away she flies: abominable ill. But he that stands enchanted with the wonders, By secret stealth dishonorable sin, Him from his sense, his sense from virtue sunders, And now in madding love lust doth begin, And that foul stain his fury is incensed with By majesty (sayeth he) shall be dispensed with: Then to mine ear (divining my misfortune,) Secret reports came whispering stranger wonders, And with their oratory pleas, mine ears importune, Whilst blind conceit me from my good hap sunders: With charming proffers still my king salutes me As one for absolutest fair reputes me. And those, to whom he secretly commended, The inquisition of my beauty’s being: Those my attract, my change of fortune tended My beauty’s worth and excellency seeing: Report my beauty to be so divine; As now he prized none so much as mine: And soon had gifts, soon had my lord’s desire, My soul from chastity, myself from me, With often presents taught how to retire Tasting the proffers of a high degree: And then me thought though I ne’er proved before A king’s embrace was even a heaven or more: Lo then, to court, unto my king I came, Monarch aspect of my recusantRefusing to submit, dissenting (OED recusant, n. 1.a). eye: Mine eye, the matter of my body’s shame, As long as shame, or sin were nursed thereby, With niggardMiserly, withholding (OED niggard, adj. 1.a). favor, at the first did seem, As one that held his crown scarce worth esteem. For now my scholarEducated, trained. eyes had learned to fashion Their looks authentical, and quaint precise: My coyness argued a stranger passion, To make him so, more pliant to mine eyes: And I, whom he esteemed easy-won, Made him my subject, ere mine eyes had done. For now I saw: when equally precise, He saw the honor was due worth my beauty: My brows’ recusancy ’gan tyrannize, And of my king exact a tribute duty. And if he proffered love, I would forsake it For women first say no, and then they take it. I wrought so well, my face did seem to say, I prized chastity, but even too much: My apt framed countenance seemed to bewray, A purposed firmness to my seeming such: And my pretext by working so before: Was but to make him love me so much more. For now in me variety of love, Had wrought such knowledge, by my seeming proneDisinclined. As whom I knew quickly seduced did prove, I knew was quickly got, and quickly gone: And therefore now opposed I seemed the stronger, That late ere won, I might be loved the longer. For when I saw him fawningly respect me, I played upon him with a stranger No: And so much more I saw he did affect me, As I seemed further off in saying so, Yet then I knew my coyness so might prove A king would hardly bow too low to love. In equal mean, therefore, did I contain Th’ impatience of my seeming loath to sin, No beggar humbleness my face did stain, With apt desire to throw myself therein: And if my coyness made him loath to woo Then would I lend him smiles, and kisses too. Nor did I in denying faintly so But secretly seem to desire again, The hoped proffers my consenting No, In secret wish already did contain: But long alas could not persist therein For ere I left I sold myself to sin. For now reigned tyranny in ambitious throne, A trueborn infant-blood spilling murderer: Usurping monster, yet controlled of none, Foul guilt’s appeal, and mischief’s furtherer, Proud Richard Gloucester in his pride I saw Act all things at his will: for will was law. He says (and then he shows a withered arm Dried at his birthday, lame and useless still): Quoth he, ’twas thou by charms wroughtst me this harm! And therefore dooms me to his tyrant will: For never is the offended mighty armless To wreak his fury on the hated harmless. Bear hence, quoth he (and there withal reflected Fire-sparkling fury from incensed eyes, Whose madding threat his lunacy detected, And told me he was taught to tyrannize) And then again in more incensed rage He cries, bear hence this monster of her age! When lo, the servant sworn performeth on me The unwilling office of a grieved sorry: And whilst he yet lays forced hands upon me Noting my beauty, and my beauty’s glory, He does his duty: yet his looks do show He craveth pardon for his doing so. For what eye framed to envy and disdain Would not enforce the heart to shake the head, When that pure maiden blush that did distainDiscolor, tinge (OED distain, v. 1); defile, sully, dishonor (OED distain, v. 2). My purple cheek with faint vermillion red, Seemed constant fair not changed for threatening will But fearful true and modest comely still. I seemed unwilling that the tyrant should By force of will have tyrant-like compelled me, And therefore made the little shift I could To burst away out of their arms that held me, But as I struggled, beauty grew the more, Which seen, they held me faster than before. And those unwilling hands that preyed upon me (Happy they held me to behold my beauty) Embraced me fasterTighter. with still gazing on me To feed their eyes: lists not perform their duty, For had it been in them I am assured Such tyrant laws I should not have endured. But he, whom hell-nursed fury hath infected, Threats death to them, and me that him offended And from his knitted brows horror reflected, The enraged doom his felon thoughts intended: Impatient, moody, mad, and full of ire, He swears by heaven that shame shall be my hire.Reward, recompense (OED hire, n. 3). Posterity says he (and then again The knit veins of his proudly-looking brows Swelling with malice, and extreme disdain, Like to an ireful boar he proudly bows) And swears by hell heavy revenge shall date The incensed displeasure of his falling hate. Posterity shall know thine act, (quoth he) And then he bids that my attires be rent,Torn, rended (OED rent, n.2 4) And terms the habitDress, clothing, attire (OED habit, n. 3). unbefitting me A sorcerer witch full of her foul intent: And that which words for anger could not say A furious act in gesture did bewray.Expose, divulge (OED bewray, v. 2.a). When I, ’reftBereft. of my habit and attire, Stood yet as modest, as a maid should be, Bashfully feared with the new admire, Of this base tyrant’s ravishing of me, Who, not content with this, commands that I, Be turned into the streets and beg or die. Even as an angry bull, incensed with ire, Bellowing his menaces with a hollow roar, Impatient, mad, wanting his lust’s desire, Augments his madded fierceness more and more And yet no quiet any murder brings Although he prays upon a thousand things. So unappeased, unquiet, mad, and ireful Rages the insatiate fury of his will: And in his look, fierce, wan, and pale, and direful He seems impatient, moody, madded, still, And not content with this disgrace to grieve me He says that all shall die that dare relieveHelp, assist. me. Then from the court, the martyrdom of me, All solitary, alone, forlorn, I went Thither where discontentment I did see, Threatening my misery ere my days were spent And needy want as naked as was I, Told me that thus perplexed I should die. When I, unapt to frame a liar-tale, UnaptUnable, unfit (OED unapt, adj. 1). to crave my bread with beggar prayer, My poor discountenanced look all wan and pale Through hunger’s nature waned from her fair I could not: O, shame would not then that I Should beg at all but rather choose to die. And yet necessity did urge constraint, To brook the impatience of her proper will, Whilst silence breaking out to no complaint, In secret passion hid her sorrow still: And shame with fearful blush all grieved did cry And wished she did but know but how to die. Nor could remembrance of my high degree, Brook my resorting into public place: For I did sigh as oft as I did see, Or think that any thought on my disgrace And who despairs in such a kind as this Thinks that the whole world knoweth all amiss.