THE
DRAMATICK WORKS
O F
BEAUMONT and FLETCHER,
VOL. II.
r t< c
THE
DRAMATICK WORKS
O F
BEAUMONT and FLETCHE /?;
Collated with all the Former Editions, AND CORRECTED;
With Notes^ Critical and Explanatory^
BY VARIOUS COMMENTATORS; And Adorned with Fifty-four Original Engravings.
IN TEN VOLUMES. VOLUME THE SECOND;
C O N TA I N I N G,
CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRT-, ELDER BROTHER-, SPANISH CURATE-, WIT WITHOUT MONET; BEGGARS' BUSH.
LONDON,
Printed by T. Sherlock, Bow-Street, Cogent-Garden ; For T. EVANS, and P. ELMSLEY, in the Strand 5 J. RIDLEY, St. James's Street ; J. WILLIAMS, No. 39, Fleet-Street ; an-1 VV. Fox, Hulborn.
MD CCLXXVIII.
s.
?R
V •
689^34
THE
CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY.
!7 be Commendatory Verfes ly Gardiner find Lovelefs fpeak Jingly of Fletcher, as Author of this Play ; other writers Jpeak of Beaumont as Jharer in it. It nvas Jirft -printed in \ 647, when tea of the then-principal performers collected into a folio volume thirty-Jive dramatic pieces of our Poets, which had never before been publijbsd. Co I ley Cibber has founded his comedy of Love Makes a Man, or the fop^s For tune t qn this pjay and the Elder Brother of our Authors,
VOL. IL $ THE
THE PROLOGUE.
SO free this work is, gentlemen, from offence. That, we are confident, it needs no defence From us, or from the Poets. We dare look On any man, that brings his table-book To write down what again he may repeat At fome great table, to deferve his meat. Let fuch come fwell'd with malke, to apply What is mirth here, there for an injury, Nor lord, nor lady, we have tax'd ; nor date, , . -j Nor any private perfon ; their poor hate Will be ftarv'd here ; for envy mall not find One touch that may be wrefted to her mind. And yet defpair not, gentlemen ; the play Is quick and witty ; fo the Poets fay, And we believe them ; the plot neat and new ; Fafhion'd like thofe that are approv'd by you : Only 'twill crave attention in the moft ; Becaufe, one point unmark'd, the whole is loft. Hear firll then, and'judge after, and be free ; And, as our caufe is, let our cenfure be.
ANOTHER PROLOGUE.
WE wifh, if it were pofiible, you knew What we would give for this night's luck, if new. It feeing our ambition to delight Our kind fpe&ators with what's good and right. Yet fo far know> and credit me, 'twas made Ey fuch as were held workmen in their trade j At 2. time too, when they, as I divine, Were truly merry, and drank lufty wine. The nec~tar of the mufes. Some are here, I dare prefume, to whom it did appear A well-drawn piece, which gave a lawful birth To paffionate fcenes, mix'd with no vulgar mirth. But unto fuch to whom 'tis known by fame From others, perhaps, only by the name, I am a fuitor, that they would prepare Sound palates, and then judge their bill of fare, It were injudice to decry this now, For being lik'd before: You may allow (Your candour fafe) what's taught in the old fchools, ? 411 fuch as liv'd before you were not fools.'
A *
DRAMATIS PERSONJB,
M E N.
Count Clodio, governor,, and a dijhonourable purfuer of
Zenocia. Manuel du Sofa, governor of Lifvon, and brother to
Guicmar..
Arnoldo, a gentleman contracted to Zenocia. Rutilio, a merry gentleman^ brother to Arnoldo* Charino, father to Zenocia. Duarte,/*/;/ to Guiomar*, a gentleman well qualified, bus
vainglorious.
Alonzo, a young Portugal gentleman, enemy to Duarte. Leopold, a Je a- captain, enamoured on Hippolyta. Zabulon, a Jeiv, Jervant to Hippotyta. Jaques, Jervant to Sulpitia.
WOMEN.
Zenocia, miftrefs to Arnoldo^ and a chafle wife. iGuiomar, a virtuous lady^ mother to Duarte. Hippolyta, a rich lady, wantonly in love with Arnoldo* Sulpitia, a. bawdy miftrefs of the male-flews.
, Chlrurgcon, Officers, Guard, Page, Bravo, Knaves of the male-flews, Servants.
, fmetimes LISBON } fometimes ITALY,
THE
THE
CUSTOM OF THE COUNTRY1.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Rutilio and Arnoldo.
W
Rutilio. "^ "Y y H Y do you grieve thus ftill ?
Arn. 'Twould melt a marble^ And tame a favage man, to feel
my fortune.
Rut. What fortune ? I have liv'd this thirty years. And run thro' all thefe follies you call fortunes,
T The Cuftcm, on which a main part of the plot of this comedy is built, prevailed at.' one time, as Monf. Bayle tells us, in Italy ; till it was put down by a prudent and truly pious cardinal. It is like- wife generally imagined to have obtained in Scotland for a long time 5 and the received opinion hath hitherto been, that Eugenius III. king of Scotland (who began his reign A. D. 535) ordained, that the lord, or mailer, mould have the firft night's lodging with every woman married to his tenant or bondman. This obfcenc ordinance is fup- pofed to have been abrogated by Malcolm III. who began his reign A. D. 1061, about five years before the Norman conqueft ; having lafted in force fomewhat above five hundred years. See Bloont in his Dictionary of Law-Termes, under the word Mercbeta.
Theobald.
This account hath received the -fancVion of feveral eminent anti quarians j but a learned writer, Sir David Dalrymple, hath under taken to contravert the fa£l, and deny the adual exiftence of the Cullom. See Annals of Scotland. The excellent Commentator on the Laws of England is of opinion, this Cuftom never prevailed in England, though he fuppofes it certainly did in Scotland. /?. /
A Yet
6 THE CUSTOM OF
Yet never fix'd on any good and conftant,
But what I made myfelf : Why fhould I grieve, then,
At that I may mould any way ?
Arn. You are wide ftill.
Rut. You love a gentlewoman, a young handfome
woman ; I have lov'd a thoufand, not fo few.
Arn. You are difpos'd
Rut. You hope to marry her •, 'tis a lawful calling, And prettily eftcem'd of ; but take heed then, Take heed, dear brother *, of a ftranger fortune Than e'er you felt yet : Fortune my foe's a friend to it.
Arn. 'Tis true, I love, dearly and truly love, A noble, virtuous, and mod beauteous maid \ And am belov'd again.
Rut. That's too much o' confcience, To love all thefe, would run me out o' my wits.
Arn. Prithee, give ear. I am to marry her.
Rut. Difpatch it, then, and I'll go call the piper.
Arn. But, oh, the wicked cuftom of this country ! The barbarous, moft inhuman, damned cuftom I
Rut. 'Tis true J, to marry is the moft inhuman
* fake heed* dear brother, of a Jlre.nger fortune
'Than e'er you felt yet ; Fortune my foe's a friend to //.] i e. Take heed of the confequences of marriage, the chance of cuckoldom. But dill this paflage muft be obfcure to the moft atten tive reader, who is not informed of this circumltance. • Fortune my 4 foe' was the beginning of an old ballad, in which were enumerated all the misfortunes that fall upon mankind through the caprice of Fortune. This ballad is again mentioned in our Authors* Knight of the Burning Peille :
Old Mer. Sing, I fay, or by the merry heart you come not in.
Merch. Well, Sir, Vllfmg. Fortune my foe, &c. And it is likewife mentioned in a comedy of more recent date, called the Rump, or Miriour of the Times (by John Tatham, printed in 1660). A Frenchman is introduced at the bonfires made for the burning of the Rumps ; and, catching hold of Prifcilla, Mrs. Lam bert's waiting-woman, will oblige her to dance, and orders the mufic to play • Fortune jny foe.' Theobald.
3 'Tis true, to marry is a cuftom
P the world ; for, look you, brother.'} i. e. It is a cufiom to marry ; for who would be fucii a fool as to marry ? Bcfides the de fect
THE COUNTRY. ?
JDamn'd cuftom in the world ; for, look you, brother^ Would any man Hand plucking for the ace of hearts^ With one pack of cards, all day's dn's life ?
Arn. You do not, Or elfe you purpofe not to, underfland me.
Rut. Proceed ; I will give ear;
Arn. They have a Cuflom In this mofl beaflly country — out upon't !
Rut. Let's hear it firft.
Arn. That when a maid's contracted, And ready for the tie o'th' church, the governor; He that commands in chief, mud have her maiden*
head, Or ranfom it for money at his pleafure.
Rut. How might a man atchieve that place ? A rare
Cuflom ! An admirable rare Cuflom ! And none excepted ?
Arn. None, none.
Rut. The rarer flill ! How could I lay about me. In this rare office ! Are they born to it, or ehofen ?
Arn. Both equal damnable.
Rut. Methinks both excellent : 'Would I were the next heir.
Arn. To this mad fortune Am I now come \ my marriage is proclairiYd, And nothing can redeem me from this mifehie£
Rut. She's very young.
Arn. Yes;
fe£ in the metre, this is flagrant nonfenfe. Nothing is more com- inon in printing than to reprint the words of" a foregoing line in a fublequent one 5 and when the fame words are really to be repeated, ttie printer, by not attending to the ferric, might naturally thihk it an error of the tranfcriber, and fo omit them. This latter has uri- doubtedly happened in the place above, which therefore, I believe, I have reltored, and the paffjge gains much humour by it.
i Seward.
There is certninly Come defecl in the text ; and though, as Mr. Theobald obferves, ' there is an uncommon liberty taken in this ' emendation,' y^'t we do not think a cure can be effec"le<l with Jefa tiolence.
A 4
9 f.HE CUSTOM OF
Rut. And fair, I dare proclaim her j Elfe mine eyes fail.
Arn. Fair as the bud unblafted.
Rut. I cannot blame him then; If 'twere mine owii
cafe, I would not go an ace lefs 4.
Arn. Fie, Rutilio,
Why do you make your brother's mlfery Your fport and game ?
Rut. There is no paftime like it.-
Arn. I look'd for your advice, your timely covmfel, How to avoid this blow, not to be mock'd at, And my afflictions jeer'd.
Rut. I tell thee, Arnoido,
An thou wert my father, as thou art but my brother, My younger brother too, I muft be merry. . And where there is a wench i* th' cafe, a young wench 5*< A hahdfome wench, and fo near a good turn too, An I were to be hang'd, thus muft I handle it. But you {half feey Sir,- 1 can change this habit To do you any fervice \ advife what you pleafe, And fee with what devotion Fll attend it. But yet, methinksy I am taken with this Guftomy
€!>Y. Enter Charino and Zenocia.
And could pretend to thj place.
Arn. Draw off a little j Here come my miltrefs and her father.
Rut. A dainty wench ! Would! might farm this Cuilom!
4 / would not go an ace lefs^\ /. e. As we now fay, I would no£ bate an ace of it. Theobald.
. * And where there is e '*vocncb yet can, a young <ucench,
A handfome ixcnch, and fooner a good turn too.~\ The oldeft folia exhibits it fan, which led the latter editors to this corrupted read ing, and will lead us back again to the true one. I think I may venture to fay, that I have both reirieved the metre and the mean ing of the Authors. Mr. Seward likewife faw with me, that /' /// (aft was necei&ry in the Srft part ef the emendation. 1: \' '
Cbar.
THE COUNTRY* 9
'Char. My dear daughter, Now to bethink yourfelf of new advice, Will be too late ; later, this timeleis forrow; No price, nor prayers, can infringe the fate Your beauty hath caft on you. My beft Zenocia^ Be rul'd by me -3 a father's care di reels you : Look on the count, look chearfully and fweetly. What though he have the power to pofTefs you, To pluck your maiden honour, and then flight you, By Cuflom unrefiflible to enjoy you ; Yet, myfweet child jfo much your youth and goodnefs, The beauty qf your foul,, and faint-like modefty, Have won upon his wild mind, fo much charm'd him, That, all pow'r laid afide, what law allows him, Or fudden fires, kindled from thofe bright eyes, He fues to be your fervant, fairly, nobly ; For ever to be ty'd your faithful hufband. Confider, my bed child.
Zen. I have confider'd.
Char. The bleflcdnefs, that this breeds too, confideN Befides your father's honour, your own peace, The banifhment for ever of this Cuftom, This bafe and barbarous life : For, after once He has found the happinefs of holy marriage, And what It is to grow up with one beauty, How he will fcorn and kick at fuch an heritage. Left him by luft, and lewd progenitors. All virgins too fhall blefs your name, fhall faint it. And, like fo many pilgritnsy go to your fhrine, v When time has turn'd your beauty into aillesj Fill'd with your pious memory.
Zen. Good father,
Hide not that bitter pill I loath to fwallow, In fuch fweet words.
Char. The count's a handfome gentleman ; And, having him, you're certain of a fortune, A high and noble fortune, to attend you. Where, if you fling your love upon this ftranger, This young Arnolclo, not knowing from what place
Or
.10 THE CUSTOM OF
Or honourable ftrain he's fprung, you venture All your own fweets, and my lon^ carts', to nothing $ Nor are you certain of his faith : Why may nut that Wander, as he does, every where ?
Zen. No more, Sir ;
I muft not hear, I dare not hear him wrong'd thus* Virtue is never wounded, but I fuller5. *Tis an ill office in your age, a poor one, To judge thus weakly, and believe yourfeif too; A weaker, to betray your innocent daughter To his intern p'rate, rude, and wild embraces* She hates as Heav'n hates falihood.
Ruti A good wench ! She flicks clofe to you, Sir.
Zen. His faith uncertain ? The noblenefs his virtue fprings from doubted ? D'ye doubt 'tis day now ? or, when your body's perfect.* Your ftomach well difpos'd, your pulfes temperate, D'ye doubt you are in health ? I tell you, father, One hour of this man's goodnefs, this man's noblenefsj Put in the fcale againit the count's whole being, (Forgive his lufts too, which are half his life) He could no more endure to hold weight with him. Arnoldo's very looks are fair examples ; His common and indifferent actions, Rules and ftrong ties of virtue. He has my firfl love j To him in facred vow I have giv'n this body ; In him my mind inhabits.
Rut. Good wench ftill !
Zen. And, 'till he fling me off, as undefervingj Which I c.onfefs I am of fuch a blefling, But would be loth to find it fo—
Arn. Oh, never,
* Virtue is never wounded but I fuff'er."} This glorious fentimenf^ which, as the in^emou-s Mr. Sympfon lays, is more worthy of a phi-- lofopher than a woman, we have met with before, fomewhaC dif ferently cloathed, in Philafitr :
When any falls from virtue, 7 am dlJlraZedi
1 Have an mVitit iu't. Theobald.
Never,
THE COUNTRY. it
Never, my happy miftrefs, never, never! "When your poor fervant lives but in your favour, One foot i' th' grave, the other fhall not linger. What facrifice of thanks, what age of fervice, What danger of more dreadful look than death, What willing martyrdom to crown me conftant, May merit fuch a goodnefs, fuch a fweetnefs ? A love fo nobly great no pow'r can ruin ! Moil blefTed maid, go on : The gods that gave this, This pure unfpotted love, the child of Heaven, In their own goodnefs muft preferve and fave it, And raife you a reward beyond our recompence.
Zen. I alk but, you a pure maid to po fiefs, And then they have crown'd my wifhes : If I fall then, Go feek fome better love ; mine will debafe you.
Rut. A pretty innocent fool ! Well, governor, Though I think well of your Cuftom, and could
wifh myfelf
For this night in your place, heartily wifh it ; Yet if you play not fair play, and above-board too,
I have a foolifh engine here7 1 fay no more :
I'll tell you what, and, if your honour's guts are not: enchanted
Arn. I Ihould now chide you, Sir, for fo declining The goodnefs and the grace you have ever fhew'd me, And your own virtue too, in feeking rafhly To violate that love Heaven has appointed, To wreft your daughter's thoughts, part that affection That both our hearts have tied, and feek to give it— •
Rut. To a wild fellow, that would worry her3 j A cannibal, that feeds on the heads of maids, Then flings their bones and bodies to the devil. Would any man of difcretion venture fuch a griflje
7 1 have a foolijb gin here.] The verfe halts in irs emphafis; and befides, gin, I think, is always ufed to fignify a trap, or In are, never, a fword, or piftol, which carry open violence. Theobald.
8 To a wild fellow, that nnould weary her.] Mr. Theobald and Mr. Symplon concur in reading worry ; which ceruinty" agrees better with the ienfe of what follows than -v.-eary.
To
ti THE CUSTOM Of
To the rude claws of fuch a cat o' mountain ? You'd better tear her 'tween two oaks9! A town-bull Is a meer ftoick to this fellow, a grave philofopher j And a Spanifh jennet a moft virtuous gentleman10.
Am. Does this feem handfomej Sir ?
Rut. Though I confefs
Any man would defire to have her$ and by any means, At any rate too, yet that this common hang-man, That hath whipt off the heads of a thoufand maids
already, •
That he fhould glean the hafveft, flicks in my ftomach! This rogue, that breaks young wenches to the faddle* And teaches them to flumble ever after 5 That he fhould have her ! For my brother, now ", . That
9 You had better tear her between two oaks.~\ I have cured the tnetre, and now muft explain the allufion of our Poets. Sinis, or ' Sinnis, was a tyrant of a gigantic ftature and ilrength, haunting the iilhmus of the Peloponnefe ; and was called nflt/oxa/Wbs, or the Pine- bender. When any unhappy paffenger fell into the clutches of this mercilefs man, he would bend down by main force two pines till he had brought them to meet together, and having fattened an arm find a leg to each of them, tore afunder the limbs of his wretched captives. Paufanias tells us, that one of thofe pines was to be feen on the banks of a river even in his time, under the reign of Adrian* This Sinnis was pur to death by Thefeus in the fame manner that he ,had exercifed his cruelty upon others ; as Plutarch informs us in the life of that hero.
• — - - Nee lex eft juftior ulla,
Qyam necis artifices arts perire fua. Theobald.
0 A town-bull, &c.] Mr. Theobald recommends the following tranfpofition in this palfte :
- — A town bull Is a mere ftoick to this fellow ; and A Spanifo jennet, a grave pbilofopber ; Amsft 'virtuous gentleman. -
But this is not only unceceffury, but would hurt the fenfe, and rob us ot the Poets;' meaning; which evidently is, « A town-bull, com, Uodio, is a iroick, a very philofopher, devoid of fcnfuality ) and a Spanifh jennet is virtuous.1 11 T/sat he Jbould have her 'fore my brother now,
That is a handjime your,§ fellow ; and WeX thought on, Jktytiti d,al tenderly in the bit fin eft "f Or 'fore my/elf, that have a reputation,
conduct, ^.] This is Mr. Theobald's read
ing,
THE COUNTRY. 13
That is a handibme young fellow, and well thoughton, And will deal tenderly in the bufinefs : Qr for myfelf, that have a reputation, And have ftudied the conclusions of thefe caufes, And know the perfect manage— I'll tell you, old Sir, (If I fhould call you * wife Sir,' I fhould bely you) This thing you ftudy to betray your child to, This maiden-monger, when you have clone your beft, And think you have fix'd her in the point of honour, Who do you think you have tied her to ? A furgeon ! J muft confefs, an excellent difTecter ; One that has cut up more young tender lamb-pies— < Char. What I fpake, gentlemen, was mere com*
pulfion,
No father's free-will -, nor did I touch your perfon With any edge of fpite, or flrain your loves With any bale or hired perfuafions '*. Witnefs thefe tears, how well I wifh'd your fortunes !
ing, upon which he fays, * This paffage, till reformed in the pointr * ing, and the change of two monofyllables, a? I have regulated the f text, I think, I may venture to pronounce was {ta.ik nonfenfe.'
Thefe regulations (both in punctuation and change of words) in* jure the Poets, difgrace the annotator, and miflead the reader. - Rutilio is angry fucb a man as Ciodio fhould have the privilege here mentioned : * Indeed, were it my brother now, fays he, or myfelf, f that know how to conduct ourfelves — it might be allowable and ' proper.' Thus underflood, which it certainly ought to be, this fpeech contains much humour, and is finely depictive of Rutilio' s whimfical character,
i* or ftrain your toves
With any bafe or hi^d perftiafons.'] Mr. Sympfon faw with me, fhat the word here fhould beftajn. Theobald.
This is another of the multitudinous arbitrary and mifchievous al terations, which the Editors of i 750 are continually obtruding on us. How had Charino>/W;W their loves ? Had he hinted, that they en- tertained a fhameful paflion, or fought a faulty connection ? No fuch thing. His meaning is clearly and beautifully expreffed to be, * What ' I fpake was from compulsion : J did not mean, with any perfuafions ' I was hired to, to thwart you, torture or torment you.' Shakef. peare has the fame idea in Romeo and Juliet, exprefied in a marmej: npt difTimilar :
* Why do you full our heart-firings thus }*
J4t THE CUSTOM OF
Rut. There's fome grace jn thee yet. — You are de termined
To marry this count, lady ? Zen. Marry him, Rutilio ? Rut. Mar.ry him, and lie with him, I mean. Zen. You cannot mean that ; If you be a true gentleman, yon dare not; The brother to this man, and one that loves him. I'll marry the devil firft. Rut. A better choice;
And, lay his horns by, a handfomer bedfellow; A cooler, o' my confcience.
Arn. Pray let me afk you ; And, my dear miltrefs, be not angry with me For what I fhall propound. I am confident No promife, nor no power, can force your love, I mean in way of marriage, never ftir you ; Nor, to forget my faith, no date can win you. But, for this Cuftom, which this wretched country Hath wrought into a law, and muft be fatisfied; Where all the pkas of honour are but laugh/d at, And modefty regarded as a may-game ; What fhall be here confider'd ? Power we have none To make refinance, nor policy to crofs it : "Tis held religion too, to pay this duty. Zen. I'll die an atheift then. Am. My nobleft miftrefs, Not that I wifh it fo, but fay it were fo, Say you did render up part of your honour, (For, whilrt your will is clear, all cannot perifh) Say, for one night you entertained this monfter ; Should I efteem you worfe, forc'd to this render ? Your mind I know is pure, and full as beauteous : After this fliort eclipfe, you woujd rife sgain, And, (baking off that cloud, fpread all your 'luftre. Zen. Who made you witty, to undo yourfelf, Sir? Or, are you louden with the love I bring you, And tain would fling that burden on another ? Am I grown common in your eyes, Arnqldo 5
Old,
THE COUNTRY. 15
Old, or unworthy of your fellowfhip ? D'ye think, becaufe a woman, 1 muft err ; And therefore, rather wifh that fall before-hand, Colour'd with Cuftom not to be refilled ? D'ye love, as painters do, only forne pieces, Some certain handibme touches of your miftrefs, And let the mind pafs by you, unexamin'd ? B'r not abus'd. With what the maiden vefTel IJ Is feafon'd firft - You understand the proverb.
Rut. \ am afraid this thing will make me virtuous.
Zen. Should you lay by the lead part of that love You've fworn is mine, your youth and faith have
giv'n me,
To entertain another, nay, a fairer, And, make the cafe thus defp'rate, ihe muft die elfe ; D'ye th.nk I would give way, or count this honeft ? Be not deceiv'd; thefe eyes mould never fee you more, This toi guc forget to name you, and this heart Hate you, as if you were born my full antipathy. Empire and more imperious love alone14 Rule, and admit no rivals. The pureft fprings, When they are courted by lafcivious land-floods, Their maiden purenefs and their coolnefs perifh ; And tho* they purge again, to their firft beauty, The fweetnefs of their tafte is clean departed : I muft have all or none ; and am not worthy JUonger the noble name of wife, Arnoldo, Than I can bring a whole heart, pure and
Arn. I never ihall deferve you ; not to thank you ! You are fo heav'nly good, no man can reach you.
13 — ----- With fwbat the maiden <veffel
Is feafon d firji — You under ft and the proverb.] The Poets here had evidently Horace in their eye.
Quo femel sjl imbuta recens, fervabit odor em
^ Empire and more imperious love alone
Rule, and admit no rivals.] This is a fine tranfiatipn of a fen- Jiment in Ovid's Metamorphofes.
No* brne conveniunt ; nee in una fide morar.tur
Majeilas is" Anior. Theobald.
;,6 T.HE CUSTOM OF
I am forry I fpake fo rafhly •, 'twas but to try you.
Rut. You might have try'd a thoufand women fry And pine hundred fourfcore and nineteen fhould have
follow'd your counfel. Take heed o' clapping fpurs to fuch free cattle.
Arn. We muft bethink us fuddenly and conftantly. And wifely too •, we expect no common danger.
Zen. Be moft aflur'd I'll die firft.
Enter Clodio and Guard,
Rut. An't come to that once, The devil pick his bones that dies a coward ! I'll jog along with you. Here comes the ftallion ; How fmug he looks upon the imagination Q£ what he hopes to aft ? Pox o* your kidneys ! How they begin to melt ! How big he bears ! Sure, he will leap before us all. What a fweet com pany
Of rogues and panders wait upon his lewdnefs ? Plague o1 your chaps ! you ha* more handfome bits Than a hundred honefter men, and more deierving, How the dog leers !
Clod. You need not now be jealous ; I fpeak at diftance to your wife; but, v/hen the prieft
has done, We fhall grow nearer then, and more familiar.
Rut. PH watch you for that trick, baboon ; PI}
fmoke you.
The rogue iweats, as if he had eaten grains ; he broils ( If I do come to the batting of you
-Am. Your lordfhip
May happily fpeak this to fright a ftranger ; But 'tis not in your honour to perform it. The Cuftom of this place, if fuch there be, At bell mod damnable, may urge you to it j But, if you be an honed man, you hate it. However, I will prefendy prepare To make her mine ;'and moll undoubtedly Believe you are abus'd j this Cuftom ftignM too i
And
T H E C O U N T R Y. 17
And what you now pretend, moft fair and virtuous.
Clod. Go, and believe; a good belief does well,
Sir. And you,- Sir, clear the place -> but leave her here,
Arn. Your lordfhip's pleafure !
Clod. That anon, Arnoldoj This is but talk.
Rut. Shall we go off ;
Arn. By any means :
I know fhe has pious thoughts enough to guard her; Befides, here's nothing due to him 'till the tie be done^ Nor dare he offer.
Rut. Now do I long to worry him ! Pray have a care to the main chance.
Zen. Pray, Sir, fear not. [Exeunt Arn. and Rut '.
Clod. Now, what fay you to me ?
Zen. Sir, it becomes
The modefty, that maids are ever born with, To ufe few words.
Clod. Do you fee nothing in me ? Nothing to catch your eyes, nothing of wonder, The common mould of men come fhort, and want in ? Do you read no future fortune for yourfelf here ? And what a happinefs it may be to you, To have him honour you, all women aim at ? To have him love you, lady, that man love you, The beft, and the mod beauteous, have run mad for? Look, and be wife; you have a favour offer'd you I do not every day propound to women. You are a pretty one ; and, though each hour I am glutted with the facrifice of beauty, I may be brought, as you may handle it,
To caft fo good a grace "and liking on you
You underftand. Come, kifs me, and be joyful; I give you leave.
Zen. Faith, Sir, 'twill not fhew handfome ; Our fex is blulhing, full of fear, unfkill'd too k
In thefe alarms.
Clod. Learn then, and be perfect. VOL. II. B Zen,
i8 THE CUSTOM OF
Zen. I do befeech yonr honour pardon me, And take fome fkilful one can hold you play ; I am a fool.
Clod. I tell thee, maid, I love thee ; Let that word make thee happy ; fo far love thcey That though I may enjoy thee without ceremony, I will defcend fo low, to marry thee. Methinks, I fee the race that fhall fpring from us ; Some, princes j fome great foldiers.
Zen. I am afraid
Your honour's cozen'd in this calculation ; For, certain, I fhall ne'er have child by you.
Clod. Why?
Zen. 'Caufe I muft not think to marry you. I defe not, Sir: The flep betwixt your honour And my poor humble flate
Clod. I will defcend to thee, And buoy thee up.
Zen. I'll fink to th' centre firft. Why would your lordfhip marry, and confine that
tefeafure
You ever have had freely cafl upon you ? Take heed, my lord ; this marrying is a mad matter: Lighter a pair of /hackles will ha-ng on you, And quieter a q'uartane fever find you. If you wed me, I muft enjoy you only : Your eyes muft be call'd home ; your thoughts in
cages,
To ling to no ears then but mine ; your heart bound ; The Cuftom, that your youth was ever nurs'd in, Muft be forgot ; 1 fhall forget my duty elfe, And how that will appear
CUd. We'll talk of that mere.
Zen. Be fides, I tell ye, I am naturally, As all young women are, that fhew like handfome, Exceeding proud ; being commended, monilrous. Of an unquiet temper, feldom pleas'd, Unlefs it be with infinite obfervance; Which you were never bred to. Once \vell angretl,
As
THE COUNTRY. 19
As every crofs in us provokes that pafTion, Like a lea, I roll, tofs, chafe a whole week after: And then, all mifchief I can think upon ; Abufing of your bed the leaft and pooreft. I tell you what you'll find : And, in thefe fits, This little beauty you are pleas'd to honour, Will be ib chang'd, fo alter'd to an uglinefs*
To fuch a vizard Ten to one, I die too ;
Take't then upon my death, you murder'd me.
Clod. Awayj away, fool ! why doft thou proclaim
thefe, To prevent that in me thou haft chofen in another ?
Zen. Him I have chofen I can rule and mailer, Temper to what I pleafe ; you are a great one, Of too ftrong will to bend ; I dare not venture. Be wife, my lordj and fay you were well counfeFdj Take money for my ranfom, and forget me ; 'Twill be both fafe and noble for your honour: And, wherefoe'er my fortunes fhall conduct me, So worthy mentions I fhall render of you, So virtuous and fo fair
Clod. You will not marry me ?
Zen. I do befeech your honour, be not angry At what I fay ; I cannot love ye, dare not ; But fet a ranfom for the flower you covet.
Clod. No money, nor rio prayers, fhall redeem that, Not all the art you have.
Zen. Set your own price, Sir.
Clod. Go to your wedding; never kneel to me ! When that's done, you are mine; I will enjoy you. Your tears do nothing ; I will not lofe my Cuftom, To caft upon myfelf an empire's fortune.
Zen. My mind (hall not pay this Cuftom 15, cruel man-! [Exit.
Clod. Your body will content me : I'll look for you. [Exit,
15 Zen. My mind ft all not pay this Cujtom
Clcd. Tour body -will content me.] Congreve fays, ' I take her body, you her mind, * Which hath the better bargain ?*
B 2 Enter
20 THfc CUSTOM OF
Enter Char ino andfervants, in Mack; covering tie place
with blacks. Char. Strew all your wither'd flowers, your au-
'tumn fweets,
By the hot fun raviflied of bud and beauty,^ Thus round about her bride-bed ! hang thole blacks- there,
The emblems of her honour loft ! All joy, That leads a virgin to receive her lover, Keep from this place : All fellow-maids that blefs her,- And blulhing do unloofe her zone, keep from her: No merry noife, nor lufty fongs, be heard here, Nor full cups crown 'd with wine make the rooms
giddy :
This is no mafque of mirth, but murder'd honour ! Sing mournfully that fad epithalamion I gave thee now> and, prithee, let thy lute weep.
Song and dance. Enter Rutilio.
Rut. How now? what livery's this? do you call
this a1 wedding ? This is more like a funeral,
Char. It is one,
And my poor daughter going to her grave ; To his moft loath'd embraces, that gapes for her. Make the earl's bed ready. Is the marriage done, Sir?
R.ut. Yes, they are knit. But muft this flubberde-
gullion Have her maidenhead now ?
Char. There's no avoiding it l6.
Rut. And there's the fcaffold where die muft lofe it?
Char. The bed, Sir.
Rut. No way to wipe his mouldy chaps ?
Char. That we know.
16 Am. l^ff-e^s no avoiding it.
Rut. And there's the fcaffold where fl?e mujl lofe it ?
Arn. The bed, Sir.'] Arnoldo's name is here put to two fpeeche?, when We do not find him on the llage, and which come with mote propriety from Charino, to whom we have plated them.
Rut.
THE COUNTRY. 21
Rut. To any honefi well-deferving fellow, An 'twere but to a merry cobler, I could fit flill now, J love the game fo well 5 but that this puckfift,
This imiverfal rutter -Fare ye well. Sir;
And if you have any good pray'rs, put 'em forward, There may be yet a remedy.
Char. 1 wifa it ; [Exit Rut.
And all my beft devotions offer to it.
Enter Clodio and Guard,
Clod. Now, is this tie difpatch'd ?
Char. I think it be, Sir.
Clod. And my bed ready ?
Char. There you may quickly find, Sir, Such a loath/d preparation.
Clod. Never grumble, Nor fling a difcontent upon my pleafure : It mufi and {hall be done. Give me forne wine, And fill it till it leap upon my lips ! Here's to the foolifh maidenhead you wot of, The toy I mu.il take pains for !
Char. I befeech your Iprdlhip, jLoad not a father's love.
Clcd. Pledge it, Charirio ; Or, by my life, I'll make the« pledge thy lad : And be fure jhg b.e a maid, a perfect Virgin, (I will not have my expectation duil'd) Or your old pate goes off. I am hot and fiery, And my blood beats alarums through my body, . And fancy, high. You of my guard retire, And let me hear no noife about the lodging, But mufic and fweet airs. Now fetch your daughter; And bid the coy wench put on all her beaijties, All her enticements ; out-blnfli damafk rofes, And dim the breaking Earl with her bright cryflals. I'm all on fire ; away !
Char. And I am frozen. [Exit.
Enter
a4 THE CUSTOM OF
Makin* with all main fpeed to the port.
Clod: Away, villains ! (.Ex. Guard.
Recover her, or I {hall die. Deal truly -, Didft not thou know
Char. By all that's good, I did not. If your honour mean their flight, to fay I grieve for
that, Will be to lie : You may handle me as you pleafe.
Clod, Be lure, with all the cruelty, with all the rigor-, For thou haft robb'd me, villain, of a treaiure --
Enter Guard.
How now ?
Guard. They 're all aboard ; a bark rode ready for'em, And now are under fail, and pail recovery.
CM. Rig me a fhjp with all the fpeed that may be; I will not lofe her ! Thou, her moll faSfe father, Shalt go along ; and if I mils her, hear me, A whole day will I fludy to deftroy thee.
Cbar. I (hall be joyful of it -, and fo you'll find me.
\JLxeunt*
A C T II. S C E N E I.
Enter Manuel du Sofa and Gmomar. Manuel. T Hear and fee too much of him, and thnt
JL Compels me, madam, though unwillingly, To wifh I had no uncle's part in him ; And, much I fear, the comfort of a fon You will not long enjoy.
Giti. 'Tis not my fault, And therefore from his guilt my innocence Cannot be tainted. Since his father's death, •(P^ace to his foul !) a mother's pray'rs and care Were never wanting in his education. His childhood I pafs o'er, as being brought up
Under
THE COUNT R Y. 25
Under my wing •, and, growing ripe for finely, 1 overcame the tenderncls and joy 1 had to look upon him, and provided The choked mafbers, and of greateti name^ Of Salamanca, in all liberal arts "J •
Man. To train his youth up ; J muft witnefs that.
GuL How there he profper'd, to the admiration Of all that knew him, for a general fcholar, Being; one of note before he was a man, Is (till remembered in that academy. From thence I fent him to the emperor's court, Attended like his father's Ion, and there Maintain'd him in fuch bravery and height, . As did become a courtier.
Mqn. 3Twas that fpoil'd him ; My nephew had been happy, but for that. The court's a fchool, indeed, in which ibm,e few Learn virtuous principles ; but mod forget Whatever they brought thither good and honed. Trifling is there in practice; ferious actions Are obiblete and out of uie. My nephew Had been a happy man, had he ne'er known What's there in grace andfamion.
Gui. I have heard, yet, That,' while he liv'd in court, the emperor Took notice of his carriage and good parts j The grandees did not fcorn his company •, And of the greater! ladies he was held A complete gentleman,
Man. He, i-ndeed, danc'd well : A turn -o'th' toe, with a lofty trick or two
'9 Of Salamanca In ail liberal arts,
Man. To train his youth up
1 muft nvitnefs that.] Tvianuel is here made to fpeak before his time. The £rtt hemiftich is the clofe of Guiomar's fpeech, as Mr. Seward I ike wife obferv'd to me. Theobald.
This tranfpofition is impertinent. It is very common for the per- fon fpoke 10, to take die la:ter words of a fenteuce i and gefterally has a plcafiug eireft.
To
22 THE CUSTOM OF
JLnter Zenocia with low and quiver, an arrow lent \ Arnoldo and Rut.ilio after her, armd.
Zen. .Come fearlefs on.
Rut. Nay, an I budge from thee, Beat me with dirty flicks.
Clod. What mafque is this ? What pretty fancy to provoke me high ? The beauteous huntrefs, fairer far and fweeter17^ Diana, fnews an Ethiop to this beauty, Protected by two virgin knights.
Rut. That's a lie,
A loud one, if you knew as much as I do. The guard's difpers'd.
Am. Fortune, I hope, invites us.
Clod. I can no longer hold \ fhe pulls my heart from rne.
Zen. Stand,, and ftandfix'dj move not a foot, nor
fpeak not ;
For, if thou doft, upon this point thy death fits. Thou miferable, bale, and fordid lecher, Thou fcum of noble blood, repent, and fpeedilyj K.epent'thy thou land thefts from helplefs virgins,' Their innocence betray'd to thy embraces !
Am. The bafe difhonour that thqu dofb to Grangers, In glorying to abnfe the laws of marriage -, The infamy thou haft flung upon thy country, In nourifhing this black and barbarous Cuftom.
Clod. My guard !
Arn. One word more, and thou dieft.
Rut. One fyllable
That tends to any thing, but c I befeech you,' And, f as you're gentlemen, tender my cafe/
17 piqtajbnui an Ethiop to this beauty,
This beauteous buntrefs, fairer far, and fleeter ;1 This is Mr. Theobald's reading ; who lays he has « ruminated over this pafiage * ah' hundred times, and can find no fenfe in it but by this tranfpo- « fnion,' and altering tie to this. Without alteration, we think the fcnfe clear: Ciodio addrefles himfelf to £enocia, by the title of
IT ii-r and Iweete.' than Diana.
And
1" H E C O U N T R Y. 23
And I will thrufl my javelin down thy throat.
Thou dog-whelp, thou !
Pox upon thee, what mould I call thee, pompion ?
Thou kifs my iady ? thou fcour her chamber-pot.
Thou have a maidenhead ? a motley coat,
You great blind fool. Farewell, and be hang'd to you.
Lofe no time, lady.
Arn. Pray take your pleafure, Sir j And fo we'll take our leaves.
Zen. We are determined,, Die, before yield.
Arn. Honour, and a fair grave
Zen. Before a lultful bed ! So for our fortunes.
Rut. DM cat a whee 1S, good count ! Cry, prithee,
cry.
ph, what a wench haft thou loft ! Cry> you great booby. [Exeunt.
Enter Charino.
Clod. And is fhe gone then ? am I difhqnour'd th,us, Cozen'd and baffled ? My guard there ! No man
anfwer ?
My guard, I fay ! Sirrah, you knew of this plot. Where are my guard ? I'll have your life, you villain, You politic old thief I
Char. Heaven fend her far enough,
Enter Guard.
And le.t me pay the ranfom !
Guard. Did your honour call us ?
Clod. Poft every way, and prefently recover The two ftrange gentlemen, and the fair lady.
Guard. This day was married, Sir ?
Clod. The fame.
Guard. We law 'em
18 Du cat a whee, good count ;] 'Tis very much out of charafter, that an Italian to nn Italian fiiould talk Welch, in his merriment ; neither of whom in all orobability ever heard a fy liable of that lan- gusge. Theobald.
B 4 Making
$6 THE CUSTOM OF
To argue nimblenefs, and a itrong back,
Will go far with a madam. Tis mod true,
That he's an excellent fcholar, and he knows it;
An exact courtier, and he knows that too ;
He has 'fought thrice, and come off ftiil with honour^
Which he forgets not.
Gui. Nor have I much reafon To grieve his fortune that way.
Man. You are mi (taken. Profperity does fearch a gentleman's temper, More than his adverfe fortune. I have known. Many, and of rare parts, from their fuccefs Jn private duels, rais'd up to fuch a. pride, And fo transform'd from what they were, that all That lov'd them truly wifh'd they had fallen in themf I need not write examples j in your fon 'Tis too apparent ; for ere don Duarte Made trial of his valour, he, indeed, was Admir'd for civil courtefy ; but nov/ He's fwoln fo high, out of his own afTurance/ Of what he dares do, that he leeks occafions, Unjuft occafions, grounded on blind paflion. Ever to be in quarrels, and this makes him Shunn'd of all fair focieties.
Gui. 'Would it were Jn my weak pow'r to help it ! I will ufe, "With my entreaties, th' authority of a mother. As you may. of an uncle, and enlarge it With your command, as being a governor To the great king in Lifbon.
Enter Duarte and bis Pa?e^
Man. Here he comes : We are unfeen ; obferve him,
Dua. Boy.
Page. My lord.
Dua. What faith the Spanim captain that I (truck, To my bold challenge ?
Page. He refusM to read it.
T H E C O U N T R Y. 27
Dua. Why didft not leave it there ?
Page. I did, my lord ;
But to no purpofe ; for he feems more willing To fit down with the wrongs, than to repair His honour by the fword. He knows too wel!3 That from your lordmip nothing can be got But more blows and difgraces,
Dua. He's a wretch, A miferable wretch, and all my fury Is loft upon him. Holds the maique, appointed I' th' honour of Hippolyta ?
Page. 'Tis broke off.
Dua. The reafon ?
Page. This was one ; they heard your lord (hip "Was, by the ladies' choice, to lead the dance •, And therefore they, too well af!ur?d how far You would out-mine 'em, gave it o'er, and faid They would not ferve for foils to let you off.
Dua. They at their bsft are fucb, and ever fhall be, Where I appear.
Man. Do you note his modefty ?
Dya. But was there nothing elfe pretended ?
Page. Yes; ,
Young don Alonzo, the great captain's nephew, Stood on compar,ifons.
Dua. With whom ?
Page. With you;
And openly profefs'd that all precedence, His birth and (late confider'd, was due to him j Nor were your lordmip to contend with one So far above you.
Qua. I lool^. down upon him With fuch contempt and fcorn, as on my (lave j He's a name only, and all good in him He m«ft derive from his great grandfire's ames ? porhad not their victorious acts bequeath'd His titles to him, and wrote on his forehead, * This is a lord,' he had liy'd unobferv'd py any man of mark, and died as one
.Amongft
28 T H E C U S T O M OF
Amongft the common rout. Compare with me ?v Tis giant-like ambition j I know him, And know myfelf : That man is truly noble, And he may juftly call that worth his own io, Which his deierts have purchased. 1 could wifh My birth were more obkure, my friends and kinfmeij Of leffer pow'r, or that my provident father Had been like to that riotous emperor That chofe his belly for his only heir; For, being of no family then, and poor, My virtues, wherefoeVr i liv'd, fhould make That kingdom my inheritance.
Gui. Strange ftif-love !
Dua. For if i ftudied the country 's laws, J fhould laeafily found all their deuth, And rife up iuch a wonder, that the pleaders, That now are in moil pradlice and eilcern, Should ftarve for want of clients. If I traveled. Like wife Ulyffes, to fee men and manners, 1 would return in act more knowing, than Homer could fancy him. If a phyiician, So oft 1 would reitore death-wounded men, That, where I liv'd, Galen fhould not be nam-dj And he, that join'd again the fcatter'd limbs Of torn Hippolytus, 'fhould be forgotten. I could teach Ovid courtfbip, how to win A Julia, and enjoy her, though her dow^r \Vtre all the fun gives light to : And for arms Were the Perfian hoft, that drank up rivers, added To the Turks prefent pow'rs, I could direct, Command, and marfhal them.
Man. And yet you know not TO rule yourfelf ; you would cot to a boy elfe, Like Plautus' braggart, boaft thus.
20 And he mayjujlly call thai ii:orth .'>h own.
Which hn d^'eris hd<ve punkaSa ;] This fentiment is evidently fownded on Horace.
$u<tfitum me ritis. TkeslaM.
D-ua.
THE COUNTRY. a9
Z)ua. All I fpeak, In a 61 I can make good.
GUI-. Why then, being mafter Of fuch and fo good parts, do you deflroy them With feif-opinion ^ or, like a rich mifer, Hoard up the treafures you poffefs, imparting Nor to yourfelf, nor others, the ufe of them ? They are to you but like enchanted viands, On which you feem to feed, yet pine with hunger;, And thofe fo-rare perfections in my fon, Which would make others happy, render me A wretched mother. ,
Man. You are too inlblent; And thofe too-many excellencies, that feed Your pride, turn to a pleurify, and kill That which (hould nourilh virtue. Dare you think, All bleflings are conferr'd on you alone ? You're grofly cozen'd ; there's no good in you, Which others have not. Are you a fcholar ? fo Are many, and as knowing. Are you valiant ? Wade not that courage then in brawls, but fpend it I* th' wars, in fervi.ce of your king and country.
Dua. Yes, fo I might be general : No man lives That's worthy to command me.
Man. Sir, in Lifbon,
1 am ; and you mall know it. Every hour J am troubled with complaints of your behaviour From men of all conditions ", and all fects. And my authority, which you prefume Will bear you out, in tha-t you are my nephew, No longer mall protect you -, for I vow, Though all that's paft I pardon, I will punifh The next fault with as much feverity As if you were a ilranger -T reit affur'd on't.
GUI. And by that love you mould bear, or that duty You owe a mother, once more 1 command you
21 From men of all c ovdititns , and all fexes.] Mr. Sympfon pro- pofes rer.ding/ttS* j which we think the proper word, and therefore have mimed.
To
3a T II E CUSTOM OF
To caft this haughtinefs off ; which if you do, All that is mine is yours : If not, exped: My pray'rs and vows for your converfion only, • But never means nor favour. [Ex. Man. and Guh
Dua. I am tutor'd
As if I were a child Hill ! The bafe peafants That fear and envy my great worth, have done this ; But I will find them out ; I will abroad ". Get my difguife. I have too long been idle ; Nor will I curb my fpirit ; I was born free, And will purfue the courfe beft liketh me. [Exeunt i
Enter Leopold, Jailor s^ and Zenocia.
Leop. Divide the fpoil amongft you ; this fair captive I only challenge for mylelf.
Sail. Yon have won her,
And well deferve her. Twenty years I have liv'd A burgefs of the fea, ' and have been preient At many a defperate fight, but never faw So fmall a bark with fuch incredible! valour So long defended, and againft fuch odds j And by two men fcarce arm'd too,
Leop. 'Twas a wonder.
And yet the courage they exprefs'd, being taker^ And their contempt of death, wan more upon me Than all they did when they were free. Methinks I fee them yet, when they were brought aboard us, DifarnVd and ready to be put in fetters ; How on the fudden, as if they had fworn Never to tafte the bread of fervitude, Both fnatching up their fwords, and from this- virgin Taking a farewell only with their eyes, They leap'd into the fea.
Sail. Indeed, 'twas rare.
Leop. It wrought fo much on me, that, but I fear'd
^ " I will o' board ;] But he has rot been talking of any vdTel pro vided for his pnfiage. I fufpedl, the poets intended no more than (on his being tutor'd fo, as he calls it) that he (hould cxprcfs a ixfolutioa of quitting his country "and going abroad. Symffon'.
The
THE COUNTRY. 31
'the great mip that puriu'd us, our own fafcty Hind'ring my charitable purpofe to 'em, I would have took 'em up, and with their lives They mould have had their liberties.
Zen. Oh, too late ; For they are loft, for ever loft !
Leap. Take comfort ; 'Tis not impoffible but that they live yet ; For, when they left the fhips, they were within A league o' thj more, and with fuch ftrength and
cunning
They, fwimming, did delude the rifing billows, With one hand making way, and with the other Their bloody fwords advanc'd, threat'ning the fea-goch With war, unlefs they brought them fafely off; That I am almoft confident they live, And you again may fee them.
Zen. In that hope
I brook a wretched being, till I am Made certain of their fortunes; but, they dead, Death hath fo many doors to let out life ij, I will not long furvive them.
Leop. Hope the bed ;
And let the courteous ufage you have found, Not ukial in men of war, perfuade you To tell me your condition.
Zen. You know it;
A captive my fate and your pow'r have made me, Such I am now ; but> what I was, it fkills not* For, they being dead, in whom I only live, I dare not challenge family, or country ; And therefore, Sir, enquire not: Let it fuffice, I am your fervant, and a thankful fervant (If you will call that fo, which is but duty) I ever will be-, and, my honour fafe,
?>3 Death bath fo many doors to let out Hfi.~\
Mille wicc msrtis, As Virgil fays in his ^Eneis. tkeobald.
• • (Which
<i THE CUSTOM OF
(Which nobly hitherto you have preferv'd) No flavery can appear in fuch a form, Which, with a mafculine conftancy, I will not Boldly look on and iuffer.
Leap. You miitake me : That you are made my prifoner, may prove The birth of your good fortune. I do find A winning language in your tongue arid looks 5 Nor can a fuit by you mov'd be deny'd ; And, therefore, of a prifoner you muft be The victor's advocate.
Zen. To whom ?
Lecp. A lady >
In whom all graces, that can perfect beauty, Are friendly met. I grant that you are fairj And, had I not feen her before, perhaps, I might have fought to you.
Zen. This I hear gladly.
Lecp. To this incomparable lady I will give you (Yet, being mine, you are already hers) ; And to ferve her is more than to be free, At lead, 1 think fa. And when you live with her, If you will pleafe to think on him that brought you To fuch a happinefs, for fo her bounty Will make you think her fervice, you (hall ever Make me at yout -devotion.
Zen. All 1 can do, Reft you affur'd of.
Leap. At night I'll prefent you ; Till when, I am your guard.
Zen. Ever your tervant ! \ExeuM*
Enter Arnoldo and Ruliiio.
Arn. To what are we referv'd ?
Rut. Troth, 'tis uncertain. Drowning we have Tcap'd miraculoufly, and Stand fair, for ought 1 know, for hanging : Money We've none, nor like to have, 'tis to be-doubted. Befides, we're ttrangers, wondrous hungry (Irangers;
And
THE COUNTRY. 33
And charity growing cold, and miracles ceafing, Without a conjurer's help, I cannot find When we lhall eat again;
Am. Thefe ar"e no wants3 If put in balance with Zenocia's lofs : In that alone all miferies are fpoken ! Oh, my Rutilio, when I think on her, And that which (he may fuffer, being a captive* Then I could curfe myfelf ; almoft thofe ppw'rs That fend me from the fury 'of the ocean l*.
7£#/.You've loft a wife, indeed, a fair and chafte one$ Two bleflings, not found often in one woman* But fh'e may be recover'd ; Queftionlefs, The fhip that took us was of Portugal $ And here in Lifbon> by feme means or other, We may hear of her.
Arfa In that hope I live".
Rut. And fo do I : But hope is a poor fall ad To dine and fup with, after a two-days' faft too. Have you no money left ?
Am. Not a denier.
Rut, Nor any thing to pawn ? 'tis now in fafhioru Having a miftrefsj fure you fhould not be Without a neat hiftorieal ihirt Z5»
•Am*
** Vhen 1 could c'urfe myfclf, altnojl thofe -powers
*Tbat fend me from the fury of the ocean ] Mr. Theobald alters j&Wtbjft«£fV; Mr. Seward propofes /a-^V, and Mr. Symplon Jei'v'd. i he firit of thcfe gentlemen laysi * The powers did not fend A rnoido * from the fury of the ocean, but protsZltd him from it.' A itrange aflertion : They protected him from this fury, by fending him to land* We have not diittubed the text, but believe the alteration of one let ter would reltore the original ledion ; an r for an j ) • ""'" ' •• • dmoft tbofe powers Thai rend me from the fury of tkt vcefin \
this being, at the fame time tha: it is perftil lenfej much more poeti- Cal than /end, Or either of the other words propofeti.
** tifi-Tjin^ a mijlrefs, fare you Jhould tfyf t?c
Without a neat hiltorical /hirt.] This is an obfcure epithet to p at this time of day. Mr. Symplon coi;jeftured to me, that it (bight poiTibly have been a teat ihetorica1^;>/, /. e. a liigving, pcr-
VOL. II. C iuaiivc
j4 THE CUSTOM OF
Arn. For fhame, Talk not fo poorly.
Rut. I muft talk of that Neceffity prompts us to ; for beg I cannot; Nor am I made to creep in at a window, To filch to feed me. Something muft be done, And fuddenly, refolve on't.
Enter Zabulon and a Servant.
Arn. What are thefe ?
Rut. Onej by his habit; is a Jew.
Zab. No more : Thou'rt fure that's he ?
Ser. Moft certain.
Zab. How long is it Since firft fhe faw him ?
Ser. Some two hours.
Zab. Be gone j [Exit Str*
Let me alone to work him.
fuafive one ; neatnefs being a main recommendation to the ladies. I have not prefum'd to alter the text. The Poets, perhaps, might mean no more than a (hirt neatly wrought, with Tome Itory exprelVd in it ; as we have at this day damafk table-cloths with fieges, encamp ments, cannons,- £c. by way of decoration. "Ikeobald.
Mr. Theobald's explanation of this paflags is very right ; and I praife his judgment for retaining the old reading, tho' it beat the ex- pence of my own correction. Jafper Maine, in his City Match, acl ii. fcene ii. is full to this purpofe. AureHa, {peaking of her waiting- woman, fays,
She works religious petticoats ; for flowers
She'll make churcrnhiitories j her needle doth
So fandify my culhionets, befides,
My fmock-fleeves have fuch holy embroideries,
And are fo learned, that I fear in time
All my apparel will be quoted by
Some pure inflrudor.'
*Tis true, the perfon here mcntion'd is an h^h- flown Puritan, but that is no objection ; what the paiTage K brought to prove (and it proves it fufficiently) is, that hiftorical fliirts were then in very high tafhion ; the only difference was, that the faints adorn'd theirs o-)Jy with religious ftories, while th-e <wiched flouriftied theirs with either iacred or profane oucs. Sjtnpfo*.
Rut,
t H E C O U N T R Y,
Rut. How he eyes you ! &ow he moves towards us : In the devil's What would he with us ?
Arn. Innocence is bold $ Nor can I fear.
Zab. That you are poor, and flfangers^ I eafily perceive.
Rut. But that you'll help us, for any of your tribe* we dare not hope, Sih
Zab. Why think you fo ?
Rut. Becaufe you are a Jew, Sir ; And courtefies come fooner from the devil Than any of ybur nation.
Zab. We are men,
And have, like you, companion^ when we find Fit fubjects for our bounty 5 and, for proof That we dare give, and freely, (not to you, Sir j tray fpare your pains) there's gold : Stand not arnafc'd $ 'Tis current, I afTure you.
Rut. Take it, an an !
Sure thy good angel is a Jew, and Comes In his own fhape to help thee. I could wifh n#w^ Mine would appear too* like a Turki
Arn. I thank you ;
But yet muft tell you> if this be the prologue To any bad act you would have me pra&ile, I muft not take it;
Zab. This is but the earneft Of that which is to follow; and the bond, Which you muft feal to for't, is your advancement Fortune, with all that's in her pow'r to give, Offers herfelf up to you : Entertain her, And that which princes have kneel'd for in raify Prefents itfelf to you.
Arn. 'Tis above wonder.
Zab. But far beneath the truth, in my relation Of what you fhall poffefs, if you embrace it. There is an hour in each man's life appointed
C a TQ
36 THE CUSTOM OF
To make his happinefs, if then he feize itt6 ; And this (in which, beyond all expectation, You are invited to your good") is yours. If you dare follow me, fo ; if not, hereafter Expert not the like offer. {Exit.
Am. 'Tis no vifiori.
Rut. Tis gold, I'm fure.
Arn. We muft, like brothers, (hare $ There's for you.
Rut. By this light, I'm glad I have it • There are few gallants (for men may be fu'ch, And yet want gold j yea, and fometimes filver) But would receive fuch favours from the devil, Though he appeared like a broker, and demanded Sixty i' th' hundred.
Arn. Wherefore fliould I fear Some plot upon my life ? 'tis now to me Not worth the keeping. I will follow him : Farewell ! Wifti me good fortune; we fhall meet Again, I doubt not.
Rut. Or I'll ne'er truft Jew more, [Exit Arnolelo . Nor Chriftian, for his fake. Plague o' my flars ! How long might I have walk'd without a cloak, Before I fhould have met with fuch a fortune ? We elder brothers, though we are proper men, Ha' not the luck j ha' too much beard, that fpoils usj The fmooth chin carries all. What's here to do now ?
Enter Duarte^ Alonzo, and a Page.
Dua. I'll take you as I find you. Alon. That were bafe ;
*6 There is an hour in each man'' 3 life appointed
To make bis bapf>inefs, if then he feixe //.] How much more nobly, and more poetically, is this ientiment exprciled by Shakefpeare in his Julias Gefar I
* There is a tide :n the atTiirs of men,
'. Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune ;
' Omitted, all the voyage of" their life,
' Js bound in fli.;liows and in mifery.' Theobald.
You
THE COUNTRY. 37
You fee I am unarm'd.
Dua. Out with your bodkin *7, Your pocket-dagger, your Itiletto ; out with it, Or, by this hand, I'll kill you. Such as you are Have ftudied the undoing of poor cutlers, And made all manly weapons out of fafhion : You carry poniards to murder men, Yet dare not wear a fword to guard your honour.
Rut. That's true, indeed. Upon my life this gallant Is brib'd to repeal banifh'd fwords.
Dua. I'll {hew you
The difference now between a Spanifh rapier And your pure Pifa 28.
Alon. Let me fetch a fword ; Upon mine honour I'll return.
Dua, Not fo, Sir.
Alon. Or lend me yours, I pray you, and take this.
27 Out tilth your bodkin.] A bodkin was the antient term, it is imagined, for zfmall dagger. Gafcoigne, fpeaking of Julius Caefar, %s»
' Atlaft, with,6*tf/*J dub'd qnd douft to death,
* All, all his glory vanity 4 with his breath.'
In the margin of Stowe's Chronicle, ed. 1614, it is faid, that Casfar was fl.»in with bodkh:$ \ and in the Mule's Looking Glals, by Ran dolph, 1638,
* Apbo. A rapier's but a bodkin.
* Deil. And a bodkin
* Is a nioft dang'rous weapon : Since I read
* Of Julius Char's death, I duiil not venture
* Into a tayloi's fhop, for fear of fo&hto?
Again, Hamlet fays,
* When he himfelf might his quietus make
' With a bare bodl'm? Steevens.
*8 And your pure Pija .] The Fi(a and Provent fword-blades never were in any eilimarion. Thofe of Turky, Toledo, and the fteel tempered in the water of the Ebro, were eminent for their goodnefs, and conlequemly bore a price. The epithet I have fubitituted [/><w] for the corrupted one, ihewb that contempt which Duarte would ex- prefs for a Pifa rapier. Theobald.
Pure is right, and means a mere Pifa. Duarte's fpecch explains bodkin, and confirms Mr. Sreevens's note. Indeed, the whole fcene turns upon it.
C 3 Rut.
33 THE CUSTOM OF
Rut. To be difgrac'd as you are ? no3 I thank you : Spite of the fafhion, while I live, I am Inftrucled to go arm'd. What folly 'tis For you, that are a man, to put yourfelf Into your enemy's mercy.
Dua. Yield it quickly,
Or I'll cut off your hand, and now difgrace you 5 Thus kick and baffle you : As you like this, You may again prefer complaints againft me To my uncle and my mother, and then think To make it good with a poniard.
Alon. I am paid For being of the fafhion.
Dua. Get a fword
Then, if you daro redeem your reputation ; You know I am eafily found. I'll add this to it^ To put you in mind.
Rut. You affe too infolent, And do infuk too much on the advantage Of that which your unequal weapon gave you. More than your valour.
Dua. This to me, you peafant ? Thou art not worthy of my foot^ poor fellow ; JTis fcorn, not pity, makes me give thee life : Kneel down and thank me for't. How! 4o you ftare ?
Rut. I have a fword, Sir, you fhall finds a good This is no ftabbing guard.
Dua. Wert thou, thrice arm'd, Thus yet I durft attempt thee.
Rut. Then have at you -3 I fcorn to take blows.
Dua. Oh ! I'm (lain. [Falls.
Pa^e. Help! murder! murder! ^Alon. Shift for yoprfelf ; yoy are dead clfe; You've kill'd the governor's nephew.
Page. Raife the ftreets there.
Alon. If once you are befet, you cannot -(cape. \v ill you betray yourfelf?
Rut. Undone for ever ! [Exeunt Rut. and Alon*&.
Enter
THE COUNTRY, 39
: Enter Officers.
1 Offi. Who makes this outcry ? Page. Oh, my lord is murder'd !
This way he took; make after him. Help, help, there ! [Exit Page.
2 Offi. 'Tis don Duarte.
I Offi. Pride has got a fall !
He was flill in quarrels, fcorn'd us peace-makers, And all our bill-authority; now h'as paid for't ; You ha' met with your match, Sir, now. Bring off
his body,
And bear it to the governor. Some purfue The murderer ; yet if he Tcape, it (kills not 5 Were I a prince, I would reward him for't : He has rid the city of a turbulent bead; There's few will pity him : But for his mother I truly grieve, indeed; Ihe's a good lady. [Exeunt,
Enter Guiomar and Servants.
GUI. He's not i'th' houfe ?
Ser. No, madam.
Gui. Hafte and feek him ; Go all, and every where; I'll not to-bed, 'Till you return him. Take away the lights too; The moon lends me too much, to find my fears ; And thofe devotions I am to pay, Are written in my heart, not in this book ; [Kneels. And I fhall read them there, without a taper. [Ex. Ser.
Enter Rutilw.
Ritf.> I am purfued ; all the ports are flopt too; Not any hope to efcape ; behind, before me, On either fide, I am befet. Curs'cl fortune ! My enemy on the fea, and on the land too j Redeem'd from one affliction to another ! 'Would I had made the greedy waves my tomb. And died obfcure and innocent ; not as Nero, Smear'd o'er with blood. Whither have my fears brought me ?
€4 I am
40 THE CUSTOM OF
I am got into a houfe ; the door^ all open ;
This, by the largenefs of the room, the hangings,
And other rich adornments, gliftring through
The fable mate of night, fays it belongs ^
To one of means and rank. No fervant ftirring ?
Murmur, nor whifper ?
Gui. Who's that ? ;, y
Rut. By the voice. This is a woman.
Gui Stephano, Jafper, Julia! Who waits there ?
Rut. 'Tis the lady of the houfe; I'll fly to her protection.
Gui. Speak, what are you ?
Rut. Of all that ever breath'd, a man moft wretched,
Gui. I'm fure you are a man of molt ill manners ; You could not with fo little reverence elfe Prefs to my private chamber. Whither would you ? Or what do you feek fqr ?
Rut. Gracious woman, hear me ! I am a ftranger, and in that I anfwer All your demands, a, moft unfortunate ftranger, That, call*d unto it by my enemy's pride, Have left him dead i'th* ftreets. Juftice purfues me, And, for that life I took unwillingly, And in a fair defence, I muft lofe mine, Unlefs you in your charity protect me. Your houfe is now my {ancillary; and the altar I gladly would take hold of, your fweet. mercy. By all that's dear unto you, by your virtues, And by your innocence, that needs no forgivencfs, Take pity on me !
Gui. Are you a Caililian ?
Rut. No, madam; Italy claims my birth.
Gui. I afk not
"With purpofe to betray you j if yon were Ten thoufand times a 'Spaniard, the natien We Portugals rnqft hate, I yet would fave you, Jf it lay in ip.y pov/'r. Life up thefe hangings -,
Behind
T H E C O U N T R Y. 41
Behind my bed's head there's a hollow place, Into which enter. So ; but from this ftir not, Jf th' officers come, as you expert they will do : I know they owe fuch reverence to my lodgings, That they will eafily give credit to me, And itarch no further.
Rut. The bleis'd faims pay for me The infinite debt I owe you !
Gut. How he quakes ?
Thus far I feel his heart beat. Be of comfort ; Once more I give my promife for your fafety. All men arefubjecl: to fuch accidents, Efpeciaily, the valiant ; and who knows not, But that the charity I afford this ftranger My only fon elfewhere may ftand in need of ?
Enter Officer $ and Servants with the fody of Duarte.
I Ssr. Now, madam, if your wifdom ever could Raife up defences agginft floods of forrow, That hafte to overwhelm you, make true ufe of Your great difcretion, .$
zSer. Your only fop, My lord Duarte, 's (lain.
i Offi. His murderer, Purfu'd by us, was by a boy difcover'd Ent'ring your houfe, and that induced us To prefs into it for his. apprehenfion.
Qui. Oh !
i Ser. Sure her heart is broke^
Offi. Madam !
Gui. Stand off !
My forrow is fo dear and precious to me, That you muft not partake it •, fuffer it, Like wounds that do bleed inward, to difp^tch me I Oh, my Duarte, fuch an end as this Thy pride long fmce did prophefy; thou art dead, And, to increafe my mifery, thy fad mother Muft make a wilful fhipwreck of her vow, Or thou fall unreveng'd. My foul's divided ;
And
4* THE CUSTOM OF
And pietv-to a Ton, and true performance 'Of hospitable duties to my gucft, That are to others angels, are my furies. Vengeance knocks at my heart, but my word giv'n. Denies the entrance : Is no medium left, But that I muft protect the murderer, Or fufFrr in that fajth he made his altar ? Motherly love, give place; the fault made this way, Fo keep a vow, to which, high Heav'n is witnefs, Heav'n may be pleas'd to pardon !
Enter Manuel, Dottors and Surgeons.
Man. Tis too late ;
Ho's gone, patt all recovery : Now reproof Were but unfeafonable, when I fhould give comfort! And yet remember, filter-- —
' Giti. Oh, forbear !
Search for the murderer, and remove the body, And, as you think fit, give it burial. Wreteh that I am, uncapable of all comfort! And therefore I entreat my friends and kinsfolk, And you, my lord, for fame fpace to forbear Your courteous vifitations. «•?& ».'
Man, We obey yqu. [Exeunf with the
Manet Guiomar.
Rut. My fpirits come back j and now Dcfpair refign$ Her place again to Hope.
GUI. Whate'er thou art,
To whom I haye giy'n means of life, to witnefs With what religion I have kept my promife, Come fearlefs forth •, but let thy face be cover'd, That I>jreafter be not forc'd to know thee-, For mother Jyyafrtdtion may return, My vow once paid to Heav'n. Thou haft taken
from me
The refpiration of my heart, the light Of my iwoPn eyes, in his life that iuftain'd me. Yet, my- word giv'n to lave you, i make good,
Bccaufe
T H E G O U N T R Y. 43
Becaufe what you did was not done with malice. You are not known ; there is no mark about you That can difcover you -, let not fear betray you. With all convenient fpeed you can, fly from me, That I may never fee you •, and that want Of means may be no let unto your journey, There are a hundred crowns. You're at the door now, And Ib farewell for ever. Rut. Let me firft fall
Before your feet, and on them pay the duty I owe your goodnefs : Ne"xt, all bleffings on you, And Heav'n reftore the joys I have bereft you. With full encreafe hereafter ! Living, be The go^ddeis ftyl'd of hofpitality. [Exeunt.
ACT III,-. SCENE!.
Enter Leopold and Zenocia.
&Pp> TILING off thefe fullen clouds ; you are en-
Jj ter'd now
Into a houfe of joy and happinefs ; I have prepared a bleffing for you.
Zen. T hank you : My flare would rather afk a curfe !
Leoj>. You're peeviih, And know not when you are friended. IVe usM thofe
means,
The lady of this houfe, the noble lady, WTiil take you as her own, and ufe you gracioufly. Make much of what you're miftrefs of, that beauty; Expofe it not to'fuch betraying forrows: When you are old, and all thole fweets hang withered,
Enter Servant. Then fit and figh.
Zen. My autumn's not far off,
44 THE CUSTOiM OF
Leop. Have you told your lady ?
Ser. Yes, Sir ; I have told her Both of your noble fervice, and your prefent, \Yhjch (he accepts. .
Leop. I fhould be bleft to fee her.
<$>r. That now you cannot do : She keeps her
chamber,
Not well difpos'd, and has deny'd all vifits, The maid I have in charge to receive from you, So pleafe you render her.
Leop. With all my iervice. But fain I would have fcen
Ser. 'Tis but your patience ; .No doubt, fhe cannot but remember nobly.
Leop. Theie three years I have lov'd this fcornful
lady,
And follow'd her with all the truth of fervice ; In all which time, but twice fhe has honour'd me With fight of her bleil beauty. When you pleafe, Sir, You may receive your charge, and tell your lady, A gentleman whofe life is only dedicated To her commands, kifles her beauteous hands. And, fair one, now, your help: You may remember The honed courtefies, fince you were mine, 1 ever did your modcfty. You mall be near her-, And if icmetimes you name my fervice to her, And tell her with what noblenefs I love her, 'i'will be a gratitude I fhall remember.
Zen. What in my pow'r lies, fo it be honed- • »
Leop. I afk no more.
Scr. You mult along with me, fair.
Leop. And fo I leave you two ; but to a fortune Too h-appy for my fate : You {hall enjoy her^.
a<» .And fo 1 leave jou tico : but to a fortune
7co happy Jor my fate: you Jkall enjoy her.] Mr. Sympfon, with hi? ufaal fpi.dr.efs for alteration, cavils ar this paffage, and for her. >r;,Js here, TiJJ this gentleman made Leopold talk dowiuiglit non- ies.le IH j.;,d, ier.f.bly enough, « i leave you to a better fortune tiwn • late uJlo'.vsme; the enjoy incut of Hippoiy&'i pielcnce.1
SCENE
THE COUNTRY. 45
SCENE II.
,
Enter Zabulon and Servants.
Zab. Be qtiick, be quick ; out with the banquet
there s° !
Thefe fcents are dull ; caft richer on, and fuller; Scent every place. Where have you plac'd the mufic?
Ser. Here they fland ready, Sir.
Zab. 'Tis well. Be fure The wines be lufty, high, and full of fpirit, And amber'd all.
Ser. They are.
Zab. Give fair attendance. In the bed trim and ftate make ready all. I fhall come prefently again. [Banquet fet forth.
2 Ser. We fhall, Sir. [Exit Zab.
What preparation's this ? Some new device My lady has in' hand.
i Ser. Oh, profper it,
As long as it carries good wine in the mouth, And good meat with it ! Where are all the reft ?
1 Ser. They are ready to attend. \MuJic.
1 Ser. Sure, fome great perfon ; They would not make this hurry elfe.
2 Ser. Hark, the mufic.
Enter Zabulon and Arnoldo.
It will appear now, certain j here it comes. Now to our places.
Arn. Whithe* will he lead me ? W'hat invitation's this ? to what new end
3° Out with the banquet there.~\ A banquet is fet Out in about eight lines after this, as we find by the marginal direction. The oldert folio in 1647, when this play was firft printed, has it, out with tke bucket there ; and then it mutt relate to the veflel that held the perfumes. I only mention the variations of the copies ; for as the (enfe of the text is not afFc&ed, 'tis no matter which of the words we eipoufe. Theobald.
Are
46 THE CUSTOM OF
Are thefe fair preparations ? a rich banquet, Mufic, and every place iluck with adornment^ Fit for a prince's welcome ! What new game Has Fortune now prepar'd, to fhew me happyy And then again to fink me ? 'Tis no illufion ; Mine eyes are not deceiv'd, all thefe are real. What wealth and ftate !
Zab. Will you fit down and eat, Sir ? Thefe carry little wonder, they are ufual; But you fhall fee, if you be wife to obferve it, That that will flrike indeed, ftrike with amazement 2 Then, if you be a man ! — This fair health to you.
Arn. What fhall I fee ? I pledge you, Sir. I was never So bury'd in amazement !
Zab. You are fo Hill: Drink freely.
Arn. The very wines are admirable ! Good Sir, give me but leave to afk this queftion^ For what great worthy man are thefe prepar'd ? And why do you bring me hither ?
Zab. They are for you, Sir ; And under-value not the worth you carry, You are that worthy man : Think well of thefe. They fliall be mo"re, and greater.
Arn. Well, blind Fortune,
Thou haft the prettied changes, when tHou'rt pleas'd To play thy game out wantonly — —
Zab. Come, be lufty, And awake your fpirits.
Arn. Good Sir, do not wake me; For willingly I'd cjie in this dream. Pray whofe fervantS Are all thefe that attend here ?
Zab. They are yours j They wait on you.
Arn. I never yet remember I kept fuch faces, nor that I Was ever able To maintain fo many.
Zab. Now you are, and fhall be.
Arn. You'll fay this houie is mine too ?
Zab.
THE COUNTRY. 47
fZab. Say it ? fwear it.
Arn. And all this wealth ?
Zab. This is the leaft you fee, Sir.
Arn. Why, where has this been hid thefe thirty years? For, certainly, I never found I was wealthy 'Till this hour; never dream'd of houfe, and fervants: I had thought I had been a younger brother, a poor
gentleman. I may eat boldly then ?
Zab. 'Tis prepar'd for you.
Arn. The tafle is perfect, and moil delicate: But why for me ? Give me fome wine : I do drink," I feel it fenfibly, and I am here, i \
Here in this glorious place : I am bravely us'd too. Good gentle Sir, give me leave to think a little;;*! For either I am much abus'd-
Zab. Strike, mufic; And firig that lufly fong1'. \_Mtific, Jong*
Ami Bewitching harmony ! Sure, I am turn'd into another creature,
Enter Hippo lyt a.
Happy and blefl; Arnoldo was unfortunate*
Ha, blefs mine eyes ! what precious piece of nature
To poze the world ?
""""^ * t * j. . v»
>' Andjing that luity fong.~\ Lufty> at firil view, may Teem an odd epithet appropriated to mufic 5 but it means that wanton^ invigo rating fong, inciting to amorous pleafures. So, before* in this very play,
No merry noife, nor lufty fongs, be btardberei So, again ;
• Come , be lufty,
And wake your fpirit f. So, towards the eonclufion of Wit \vithout Money ;
• Come, boy,fing the fong Itdught you,
And fin a It lullily.
And, in the Mad Lover, fongs in this free ftrain are exprefisd by an other, but ea^ivalent^ term :
Fool. What new hngs,Jirrab?
Stre. A thoujand, man, a thoufand.
Fool. Itching airs,
Alluding to the eld ffort. Ibeobald.
48 THE CUSTOM OF
Zab. I told you, you would fee that Would darken thefe poor preparations. What think you now? Nay, rife notj 'tis no vifion,
Am. 'Tis more ; 'tis miracle,
Hip. You are welcome, Sir.
Arn. It fpeaks, and entertains me •> flill more glo*
rious !
She is warm, and this is flefh here : How ihe ftirs met Blefs me, what ftars are there ?
Hip. May I fit near you ?
Arn. Noj you're too pure an object to behold^ Too excellent to look upon and live 3 I muft remove.
Zab. She is a woman, Sir* Fie, what faint heart is this ?
Arn. The houfe of wonder !
Zab. Do not you think yourfelf now truly happy ? You have the abftract of all fweetnefs by you, The precious wealth youth labours to arrive at. Nor is Ihe lefs in honour, than in beauty ; Ferrara's royal duke is proud to call her His beft, his nobleft, and moft happy fifter 5 Fortune has made her miftrefs of herfelf, Wealthy,- and wife, without a pow'r to fway her j Wonder of Italy, of all hearts rniilrefs.
Arn. And all this is — —
Zab. Hippolyta, the beaute'otts.
Hip* You are a poor relater of my fortunes^ Too weak a chronicle to fpeak my blefiings, And leave out that effential part of ftory I am moll high and happy in, moft fortunate, The acquaintance, arid the noble feliowfhip Of this fair gefitlemari. Fray you, do not wonder) Nor hold it ft range to hear a' handfome lady Speak freely to you. With your fair leave andcourtefy* I will fit by you.
Arn. I know not what to ailfwe'r. Nor where I am, nor to what end j confider, Why do you ufe me thus %
Hip.
THE COUNTRY. 49
Hip. Are you angry, Sir, Becaufe you're entertain'd with all humanity ? Freely and nobly us'd ?
Arn. No, gentle lady*
That were uncivil ; but it much amazes me, A ftranger, and a man of no defert, Should find fuch floods of courtefy.
Hip. I love you,
I honour you, the firft and beft of all men ; And, where that fair opinion leads, 'tis ufual Thefe trifles, that but ferve to fet off, follow. I would not have you proud now, nor difdainful> Be'caufe I fay I love you, though I fwear it; Nor think it a dale favour I fling on you. Though you be handfome^ and the only man* I inuft confefs, I ever fix'd mine eye on, And bring along all promifes that pleafe us, Yet I fhould hate you then* defpife you, fcorn you 3 And with as much contempt purfue your perfohi As now I do with love. But you are wifer, At lead, I think, more mafter of your fortune j And fo I drink your health.
Arn. Hold fail, good honeftyj I am a loft man elfe !
Hip. Now you may kifs me j 'Tis the firft kifs I ever afk'd, I fwear to you,
Arn. That I dare do, fweet lady.
Hip. You do it well too ; You are a mafter, Sir ; that makes you coy.
Arn. 'Would you would fend your people off*;
Hip-. Well thought on. Wait all without.
Zab> I hope fhe is pleas'd throughly.
[Ex. Zab. and Servants '.
Hip. Why ftand you ft ill ? here's no man to detect
you ;
My people are gone off. Come* come, leave conjuring i The fpirit you would raife is here already 3 Look boldly on me.
VOL. II. D Arn,
50 THE CUSTOM OF
Arn. What would you have me do ?
Hip. Oh, moft unmanly queflion ! have you do? Js't poflible your ears fhould want a tutor ? I'll teach you : Come, embrace me.
Arn. Fy, (land off;
And give me leave* more now than e'er, to wonder, A building of fo goodly a proportion, Outwardly all exact, the frame of Heaven, Should hide within fo bale inhabitants. You are as fair as if the morning bare you ; Imagination never made a Tweeter ; Can it be poflible, this frame fhould fuffer3*, And, built on flight affections, fright the viewer? Be excellent in all, as you are outward, The worthy miftrefs of thofe many blefiings Heav'n has beftow'd ; make 'em appear ftill nobler, Becaufe they're trufted to a weaker keeper 53. Would you have me love you ?
Hip. Yes.
Arn. Not for your beauty ; Though, I confefs, it blows the firfh fire in us ; Time, as he paffes by, puts out that? fparkle.
32 Can it be pojfible^ this frame Jhould fuffer,
And^ built on flight ajfe^ torn i fright the I'ieiver ?~\ Tho' the fuffer be nor abfoiute nonienie, yet it carries on tl;r fine meta phor of the fallowing line fo i!J, that, I am perfuaded, it ii> a corrupt reading ; and that the original word was totter ; which ptrfldly cor- refponds witii the rell of the metaphor. Se-^ard.
Tottsr is certainly bdl, but is unauthorized j and we think the alteration too bold to be followed.
J* - • - tnake^cm appear ft ill nib for,
Becaufe they're tr'ujled to a weaker keeper] Mr. Sevvard think 3 this paflage erroneous, and that for weaker we ihould read wealthy ; becaufe, he urges, Hippolyta's wealth is one of the principal objects ot Arnoldo's admiration. The deficiency of poetic idea, and poverty of argument, in this reading, allure us it never came from Beaumont or Fletcher. Mr. Theobald adheres to the old copy, and fuppofes. we think with reafon, that the Poets ' h?d the woich of the Sacred * Writ in view, of womnn being the weaker wefiel ? and then, fays he, « the comment will run thus: " Be the worthy rniHrefs of tliofe 4 blefiings which Heaven has bellowed ; and make them Hill nobler " by preferving them, as they are cniruiltd to the />«;?£> and wea** " »^/Jof a woman."
Nor
THt COUNTRY. 51
Nor for your wealth; altha* the world kneel to it>
And make it all addition to a woman ;
Fortune, that ruins all, make that his conqueft.
Be honefl, and be virtuous, I'll admire you ;
At leaft, be wife ; and where you lay thefe nets,
Strow over 'em a little modefty ;
*Twill well become your caufe, and catch more fools*
Hip. Could any one that lov'd this wholefome
counfelj
But love the giver more ? You make me fonder. You have a virtuous mind •, I want that ornament* Is it a fin I covet to enjoy you ? If you imagine I'm too free a lover, And act that part belongs to yoiij I am filent : Mine eyes fhall fpeak my blufhes> parley with you j I will not touch your hand, but with a tremble Fitting a veflal nun j not long to kifs you J4, But gently as the air, arid undifcern'd too, I'll fteal it thus : I'll walk your fhadow by you* So ilill and filent, that it fhall be equal To put me off as that ; and when I covet To give fuch toys as thefe— — -
Arn. A new temptation !
Hip. Thus, like the lazy minutes, will I drop 'em> Which pad once are forgotten.
Arn. Excellent vice !
Hip. Will you be won ? Look ftedfaftly upon me, Look manly, take a man's affections to you ; Young women, in the old world, were not wontj Sir^ To hang out gaudy bullies for their beauties, To talk themfelves into young mens' affections*
ow cold and dull you are !
Arn. How do I ft agger ! he's wife, as fair ; but 'tis a wicked wifdom j '11 choke before I yield.
Hip. Who waits within there ?
- Bnt gently as th<e air, and undif<cern''d tooJ\ Were it ing from authority, we could wifh to change and into as, and read,
But gently as the air, ?.s undifce rn V too ; which fuftly would be both mote eafy and more elegant*
D 2 Make
p THE CUSTOM OF
Make ready the green chamber.
Zab. [within.] It {hall be, madam.
Arn. I am afraid ihe will enjoy me indeed.
Hip What mufic do you love ?
Arn. «A modeft tongue.
Hip. We'll have enough of that. Fy, fy, how
lumpifh ? In a young lady's arms thus dull ?
Arn. For Heaven's fake, Profefs a little goodnefs.
Hip. Of what country ?
Arn. I am of Rome.
Hfo. Nay then, I know you mock me ; The Italians are not frighted with fuch bug-bears. Prithee, go in.
Arn. I am not well.
Hip. I'll make thee; I'll kifs thec well.
Arn. I am not fick of that fore.
Hip. Upon my confcience, I muft ravifh thee ; I (hall be famous for the firlt example : With this I'll tie you firft, then try your flrength, Sir.
Arn.My flrength ? Away,'bafe woman, I abhor thee ! I am not caught with Hales. Difeafe dwell with thee !
[Exit.
Hip. Are you fo quick ? and have I loft my wifhes ? Ho, Zabulon ! my fervants !
Enter Zabulon and Servants.
Zab. Called you, madam ?
Hip. Is all that beauty fcorn'd, fo many fued for? So many princes ? By a ftranger too ? Muft I endure this ?
Zab. Where's the gentleman ?
Hip. Go prefently, purfue the ftranger, Zabulon ; He has broke from me. Jewels I have giv'n him ; Charge him with theft. He has ftol'n my love, my
freedom : Draw him before the governor, imprifon him !
Why
THE COUNTRY. S3
Why doft thou flay ? .
Zab. I'll teach him a new dance, For playing fail and loofe with fuch a lady. Come, fellows, come ! I'll execute your anger, And to the full.
Hip. His fcorn lhall feel my vengeance ! [Exeunt,
SCENE III.
Enter Sulpitia and Jaques.
Sul. Shall I never fee a lufly man again ?
Ja. Faith, miflrefs,
You do fo over-labour 'em when you have 'em, And fo dry-founder 'em, they cannot laft.
Sul. Where's the Frenchman ?
Ja. Alas, he's all to fitters J5 ; And lies, taking the height of his fortune with a
fyringe. He's chin'd, he's chin'd, good man ; he is a mourner.
Sul. What is become o' th' Dane ?
Ja. Who, goldly-locks ? He's foul i'th' touch-hole, and recoils again ; The main-fpring's weaken'd that holds up his cock 5 He lies at the fign of the Sun, to be new-breech'd.
Sul. The rutter, too, is gone 36.
Ja. Oh, that was a brave rafcal ; He would labour like a threfher. But alas, What thing can ever laft ? He has been ill-mew'd, And drawn too foon ; I have feen him in the hcfpital.
Sul. There was an Englifhman.
75 His ail to fitters.] Utter is an old uoid lor a Jmall piece, a tnorfeli a fragment. We Hill fay, All to pieces.
;6 The rutter, too, is gone. ~\ I fufpetl this word (hould be ruttier^ which in French fignifies an old beaten foldier. And they have a phrafe, C'eft une <viei{x routtier* He's an old dog at it ; meaning, I luppofe, at the game that is here difcours'd of. Theobald.
Rutter, we do not doubt, is the right word, alluding to deer ; the rutting-iime, &c. This man, by a cant term, to denote his fupe- riority, was nicknamed the Rutter, which is humorous. 7'Ke alter- etion, imported from the French, and unprecedented in OUF language, is hard and forced.
54 THE CUSTOM OF
Ja. Ay, there was an Engljfhman ; You'll fcant find any now, to make that name good. There were thofe Englifh, that were men indeed, An4 would perform like men ; but now they are
vanifh'd:
They are fo takeq up in their own country, And fo beaten off their fpeed by their own women, When they come here they draw their legs like hack-
nies.
Drink, and their own devices have undone 'em. Sul. I muft have one that's ftrong >s no life in Lifbon
elfe;
Perfect and young : My cuftom with young ladies, And high-fed city-dames, will fall and break elfe. J want myfelf too, in mine age to nonrifh me. They are all funk I maintain'cl. Now, what's this
bufmefs ? What goodly fellow's that ?
Enter Rutilio and Officers. Rut. Why do you drag me ? fox o' your juftice ! let me loofe, I Offi. Not fo, Sir. Rut. Cannot a man fall into one of your drunker^ .
cellars,
And venture the breaking on's neck, your trap-doors open, *>
But he mnft be us'd thus rafcally ?
1 Off,. What made you wand'ring
go late i'th' night ? You know, that is imprifonment,
Rut. May be, I \valk in my fieep.
Offi. May be, we'll wajce you. What mane you wand'ring, Sir, into that vault, Where all the cijy-ftore, and the munition lay ?
Rut. I fell into't by chance 5 I broke my Ihins jfor't : Your worfhips feel not that. I knock'd my head Againft a hundred polls 5 Vorjd you had had it ! Cannot I break my neck in my own defence ?
2 Offi. This will not Icrye -3 you cannot put it off fo \
Your
THE COUNTRY. 55
Your coming thither was to play the villain, To fire the powder, to blow tip that part o'th* city. Rut. Yes, with my nofe. Why were the trap doors open ?
Might not you fall, or you, had you gone that way ? I thought your city had funk.
1 Offi. You did your beft, Sir,
We muft prefume, to help it into the air,
If you call that finking. We have told you what's
the law ;
He that is taken there, unlefs a magiftrate, And have command in that place, prefently, If there be nothing found apparent near him Worthy his torture, or his prefent death, Muft either pay his fine for his prefumption (Which is fix hundred ducats) or for fix years Tug at an oar i'th' gallies. Will you walk, Sir? For, we prefume, you cannot pay the penalty. Rut. Row in the gallies, after ail this mifchief ?
2 Offi. May be, you were drunk -, they'll keep you
fober there.
Rut. Tug at an oar ? You are not arrant rafcals, To catch me in a1 pit-fall, and betray me?
Sul. A lufty-minded man.
Ja. A wondrous able.
SuL Pray, gentlemen, allow me but that liberty To fpeak a few words with your prifoner, And, I (hall thank you.
i Offi. Talce your pleafure, lady.
Snl. What would you give that woman, ihould
redeem you, Redeem you from this flavery ?
Rut. Befides my fervice, I'd give her my whole felf ; I'd be her vaflal.
Sul. She has reafon to expect as much, confidering The great fum (lie pays for it ; yet take comfort : What you (hall do to merit this, is eafy, And I will be the woman fhall befriend you j 'Tis but to entertain, feme handfome ladies,
D4 And
56 THE CUSTOM OF
And young fair gentlewomen : You guefs the way j
But giving of your mind -
Rut. I am excellent at it ; You cannot pick out fuch another living. I underftand you : Is't not thus ?
Sul. You have it.
Rut. Bring me a hundred of 'em ; I'll difpatch 'em, I will be none but yours : Should another offer, Another way to redeem me, I fhould fcorn it. What women you fliall pleafe: lam monftrous lu fly; Not to be taken down : Would you have children £ I'll get you thofe as fall and thick as fly-blows.
Sul. I admire him, wonder at him!
Rut. Hark you, lady, You may require fometimes ?•
Sul. Ay, by my faith.
Rut. And you fhall have it, by my faith, an4
haridfomely. This old cat will fuck fhrewdly ! You have na
daughters ?
I fly at all. Now am I in my kingdom. Tug at an oar ? No; tug in a feather-bed, With good warm caudles ; hang your bread and water, I'll make you young again* believe that, ladyj I will fo frubbifli you !
Sul. Come, follow, officers ; This gentleman is free ; I'll pay the ducats.
Rut. And when ypu catch me in yo,ur city-powder'*
ing-tub. Again, boil me with cabbage.
i Offi. You are both warn'd and arm'd, Sir.
SCENE IV.
Enter Leopold, Hippolytay and Zenocia.
Zen. Will your ladyfhip wear this drefling?- Hip. Leave thy prating i I care not what I wear. %W, Yet 'tis my duty
To
T H E C O U N T R Y. 57
To know your pleafure, and my woril affliction To fee you dilcontemed.
Hip. Weeping too ?
Prithee, forgive me •, I am much diftemper'd, And fpeak I l^now not what. To make thee amends, The gown that I wore yefterday is thine. Let it alone a while.
Le&p, Now you perceive, And tafte her bounty.
Zen. Much above my merit.
Leop. But have you not yet found a happy time To move for me ?
Zen. I have watch'd gli occafions ; But, hitherto, without fuccefs : Yet, doubt not But I'U embrace the firft means.
Leop. Do, and profper, Excellent creature, whofe perfections make Even forrow lovely, if you.r frowns, thus take me, What would your fmiles do ?
Hip. Fox o' this dale courtftiip 3<7 ! If I have any power
Leop. I am commanded ; Obedience is the lover's facrifice, "Which I pay gladly.
Hip. To be forc'd to woo, Being a woman, could not but torment me: But bringing, for my advocates, youth and beauty, Set off with wealth, and then to be deny'd too,
3" Pox o' this ft ale courtjbi}!] To modern ears this expreffion will appear exceedingly grofs and vulgar ; but that it conveyed no fuch meaning in the days of our Authors, may be proved from fevera! in- fiances. In Shakefpeare's Love's Labour Loft, ail v. fcene ii. die princefs exclaims, • Pox of that jeftj * a mode of fpeech that Mr. Theobald was much offended at. But, as a judicious critic, Mr. Farmer, obferves, there needs no alarm ; the fmall-pox only is al luded to. Dayifon has a canzonet on his Lady's Sickneffe of the Poxe ; and Dr. Donne writes to his fifter, ' At my return from Kent, * 1 found Pegge had the poxe, I humbly thank Gcd, it hath no$ ' much disfigured her.' Jt m;;y be added, that the /mail fox is full fpoken of in the fame manner, to ihis day, in many parti of the North of England. R.
Does
58 THE CUSTOM OF
Does comprehend all tortures. They flatter'd me That faid my looks were charms, my touches fetters, My {ocks fofc chains to bind the arms of princes, And make them, ;n that wifh'd-for bondage, happy, I am, like others of a coarfer fcattue, As weak t' allure, but in my dotage ftronger. I am no Circe; he, more than Ulyflcs, Scorns all my offer'd bounties, flights my favours ; And, as I were fome new E.gyptian *8, flies me, Leaving no pawn, but my own fhame behind him. But he mail find, that, in rny fell revenge, I am a woman ; one, that never pardons The rude contemner of her proffer'd iweetnefs,
Enter
Madam, 'tis done,
Hip. What's done?
%ab. Th* uncivil flranger Is at your fuit arrefted.
Hip. Tis well handled..
Zab. And under guard fent to the governor^ "With whom my teftimony, and the favour He bears your lady (hip, have fq That he is fentenc'd - ?
Hip. How?
Zab. To lofe his head.
Hip. Is that the means to quench the fcorching Of my enrag'd defires ? Mult innocence iuffcr, XTauie I am faulty ? Or is my love fo fatal, That of nectflity it muft deftroy The dbjeft it mod longs for ? Dull Hippolyta, To think that injuries could make way for love, \Vhen courtefies' were defpis'd ! that by his death Thou fhouid'ft gain that, which only thou canft hopp for
3 £*d> rs I iv we fame xe-iv Egyptian, Jjligs tfif-'j This alludes to llie flo.y of Potiphar'fc wife tempting the patriarch J'ofeph. The cir- (tunittaiict's in the fo!!o\viiig Inies prove it ; for Pot-phar's wife, 'tis \ytil known, failing in her deiign of feducing Jofeph to wantcnnefs Ler, accufcd him to her hufband of an utiem^t upor. her chaftity.
Theobald.
While
T H E COUNTRY. 59
While he is living ! My honour's at the flake now, And cannot be prefery'd, unlefs fie pprifli. The enjoying of the thing I love, I ever Havepriz'd above my fame: Why doubt I now then ? One only way is left me, to redeem all. Make ready my caroch !
Leop. What will you, madam ?
Hip. And yet 1 am impatient of fuch (lay, Bind up my hair ! Fy, fy, while that is doing, The law may feize his life ! Thus as I am then, Not like Hippolyta, but a Bacchanal. My frantic love tranfports me. " [Exit.
Leop. Sure, fhe's diftraded.
Zab. Pray you follow her j I will along with you : I more than guefs the caufe.. Women that love Are rmft uncertain ; and one minute crave, ^hai in another they refufe to have. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Enter Clodlo and Charino.
Clod. A fibre thyfclf, Charino, I am alter'd prom what I was : The tempefts we have met witfy In our uncertain voyage were fmooth gales, Compar'd to thofe the memory of my lulls Kais'd in my confcience : And if e'er again I live to fee Zenocia, I will fue And leek tj her as a lover, and a fervant ; And not command affection, like a tyrant.
Char. In hearing this, you make me young again ; And Heav'n, it feems, favouring this good changs
in yog,
In fetting of a period- tp our dangers, Qives us fair hopes to find that here in Lifbon Wrhich hitherto in vain we long have fought for. I have received aflur'd intelligence. Such flrangers have been feen here; and though yet I cannot learn their fortunes, nor the place Of their abode, I have a, foul prefages
A fortunate
60 THE CUSTOM OF
A fortunate event here.
Clod. There have pafs'd A mutual interchange of courtefies Between me and the governor ; therefore, boldly We may prefume of him, and of his pow'r, If we find caufe to ufe them ; otherwiie, I would not be known here j and thefc difguifes Will keep us from difcovery.
Enter Manuel^ Doff or t 4rnoldo3 and Guard.
Char. What are thefe ?
Clod. The governor ; with him my rival, bound.
Char. For certain, 'tis Arnoldo.
Clod. Let's attend What the fuccefs will be,
Man. Is't poffible,
There fhould be hope of his recovery, His wounds fo many and fo deadly ?
Doff. So they appear'd at firft j but, the blood
ftopp'd,
J-lis trance foribok him, and, on better fearch, We found they were not mortal,
Man. Ufe all care
To perfect this unhop'd-for cure; that done, Propole your own rewards ; and, till you mail Hear further from me, for fome ends I have, Conceal it from his mother.
Doff. We'll not fail, Sir. [Exit.
Man. You itill itand confident or* your innocence,
Am. It is my bed and lait guard, which I will not
Leave, to rely on your uncertain mercy.
«i
Enter Wpfolyta^ Zg,uiihny Leopold, Zenocia, and tvus Servants.
Hif. Who bad you follow me ? Go home ! and
you, Sir, As you refpeci me, go with her !
Am. Zenocia ! And in her houfe a fervant!
THE COUNTRY. 61
Char. 'Tis my daughter. \Zen* gaffes.
Clod. My love. Contain your joy * obierve ihe fequel.
Man. Fy, madam, how indecent 'tis for you, So far unlike yourfelf, to be leen thus In th' open ftreets ? Why do you kneel ? pray you, rife. I am acquainted with the wrong and lois You have fuftain'd, and the delinquent now Stands ready for his punifhment.
Hip. Let it fall, Sir, On the offender: He is innocent, And mod unworthy of thefe bonds he wears; But I made up of guilt.
Man. What ftrange turn's this ?
Leop. This was my prilbner once.
Hip. If chaftity
In a young man, and tempted to the height too, Did e'er delerve reward, or admiration, He juftly may claim both. Love to his perfon (Or, if you pleafe, give it a fouler name) Compell'd me firft to train him to my houfe; All engines I rais'd there to fhake his virtue, Which in th' afTault were uielefs ; he, unmov'd {till, As if he had no part of human frailty, Againft the nature of my fex, almoft I play'd the ravi flier. You might have feen, In our contention, young Apollo fly, And lovefick Daphne follow : All arts failing, By flight he won the victory, breaking from My fcorn'd embraces. The repulie (in women UnfufTerable) invited me to practife A means to be reveng'd •, and from this grew His accufation, and the abufe Of your (lill-equal juftice. My rage over, (Thank Heav'n) though wanton, I found not myfelf So far cngag'd to hell, to profecute To th' death what I had plotted •, for that love, That made me firft deiire him, then accule him, Commands me, with the hazard of rnyielf,
Firft
62 THECUSTOM OF
Firft to entreat his pardon, then acquit him.
Man. Whate'er you are, fo much I love your virtue^ That I defire your friendihip. Do you unioofe Him from thofe bonds you are worthy of; Your re pentance
Makes part of fatisfa6tion ; yet I muft Severely reprehend you.
Leof. I am made
A Hale ori all parts ! But this fellow fliall Pay dearly for her favour.
Arn> My life's fo full Of various changes, that I now defpair Of any certain port •, one trouble ending, A new, and worfe, fucceeds it: What mould Zenocia Do in this woman's houfe ? Gan chaftity And hot luft dwell together* without infection ? I would not be or jealous, or fecure ; Yet fomething muft be done, to found the depth on't< That fhe lives is my blifs ; but living there, A hell of torments I There's no way to' her In whom I live, but by this door, thro* which To me 'tis death to enter -, yet I muft And will make trial.
Man, Let me hear no more Of thefe devices, lady : This I pardon^ And, at your interceffion, I forgive Your inftrument the Jew too< Get you home,; The hundred thoufand crowns you lent the city$ Towards the feuing forth of the lait navy Bound for the lilands, was a good then, which I balance with your ill now.
Char. Now, Sir, to him 3 You know my daughter needs it.
Hip. Let me take
A farewell with mine eye, Sir, though my lip Be barr'd the ceremony courteiy, And cultom too, allows of*
Am. Gentle madam, I neither am fo cold, nor fo ill-bred,
But
THE COUNTRY. 63
But that I dare receive it. You are unguarded j
And let me tell you, that I am afharrfd *
Of my late rudenefs, and would gladly therefore,
If you pleafe to accept my ready iervice,
Wait on you to your houfe.
Hip. Above my hope ! Sir, if an angel were to be my convoy, He mould not be more welcome. [Ex. Am. and Hip.
Clod. Now you know me.
Man. Yes, Sir, and honour you-, ever rememb'ring Your many bounties, being ambitious only To give you caufe to fay, by forne one fervice, That I am not ungrateful.
Clod. 'Tis now offer'd : I have a fifit to you, and an eafy one, Which ere long you fhall know.
Man. When you think fit> Sir* And then as a command I will receive it ; Till when, molt welcome. You are welcome too, Sirj 'Tis fpoken from the heart, and therefore needs not Much protellation* At your belter leifure I will enquire the cauic that brought you hither ; Fth' mean time ferve you.
Ckd. You out-do me, Sir. [Exeunt*
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Enter Ditarte and Do ft or. Dua. \7" O U have beftow'd on me a fecond life,
JL For which I live your creature j and have
better'd
What Nature fram'd unperfedl: My Erft being, Infolcnt pride made monitrous -, but this latter, In learning rne to know myfeif, hath taught me Not ro wrong others.
Tijcn we live indeed,
When
64 THE CUSTOM OF
When we can go to reft without alarm Giv'n ev'ry minute to a guilofick conicicncq To keep us waking, and rife in the morning Secure in being innocent: But when, In the remembrance of our worfer a&ions^ We ever bear about us whips and furies, To make the day a night of forrovv to us. Even life's a burden.
Dua. I have found and felt it; But will endeavour, having firft made peace With thole inteftine enemies, my rude pafiionSj To be fo with mankind. But, worthy doftor, Pray, if you can, fefolve me 5 was the gentleman^ That left me dead, e'er brought unto his trial I
Doff. Nor known, nor apprehended*
Dua. That's my grief*
Doff. Why, do you wifh he had been puniuYd ?
Dua. Noj
The ftream of my fwol'n forrow runs not that way: For could I find him, as I vow to Heav'n It mail be my firft care to feek him out* I would with thanks acknowledge that his fwordj Jn opening my veins, which proud blood poifon*ds Gave the firft fymptoms of true health.
Doff. 'Tis in you
A chriftian refolution. That you live Is by the governor's, your uncle's, charge As yet conceal'd •, and though a fon's lofs never Was folemniz'd with more tears of true forrow, Than have been paid by your unequal'd mother For your fuppofed death, fhe's not acquainted With your recovery.
Dua. For fome few days, Pray, let her fj continue. Thus difguis'd, I may abroad unknown. .,,% ^
Doff. Without fufpicion Of being difcover'd.
Dua. I am confident,
No
T H E C O ti N T R 1T. 6$
No moifture fooner dies than womens* tears39 ; And therefore, though I know my mother virtuous, Yet being one of that frail fex> I purpofe Her further trial.
DcEf. That as you think fit i I'll not betray you.
Dua. To find out this flranger, This true phyfician of my mind and manners>
Were fuch a blefling He feem'd poor; and may.
Perhaps, be now in want : 'Would I could find him !
The inns I'll fearch firfl, then the public flews :
He was of Italy, and that country breeds not
Preciiians that way, but hot libertines ;
And fuch the moil are. 'Tis but a little travel,
I am unfurnifh'd too : Pray, Mr. Dodlor^
Can you fupply me ?
Dott. With what fum you pleafe.
Dua. I will not be long abfent*
Boft. That I wifh too ;
For, till you have more ftrength, I would not have yoli To be too bold.
Dua. Fear not; I will be careful. [Exeunt.
Enter Leopold*, Zabnlony and Bravo.
Zab. I have brought him, Sir 5 a fellow that will
do it,
Though hell flood in his way; ever provided, You pay him for't.
Leop. He has a ftrange afpeci, And looks much like the figure of a hang-man, In a table of the Paffion.
Zab. Pie tranfcends All precedents, believe it; a fiefh'd ruffian,
/ am confident i
No ntoiflure fooner dies than womens* tears ;] Moifture Jying is ftark nonfenfe ; the infertion of a fmgle letter gives the true fenfe, dries. Sympfon.
Dies is not * nonfenfe ;' but rather more poetical here than dries ; the evaporation or drying-up of moifture being, metaphorically, the death of it. Dries, however, it muft be confefled, is more obvious, and probably the word ufed by our Authors.
VOL. II. E That
66 THE CUSTOM QF
That hath fo often taken the ftrappado,
That 'tis to him but as a lofty trick
Is to a tumbler. He hath perus'd too
All dungeons in Portugal ; thrice fev'n years
Row'd in the gallies, fo'r three feveral murders 5
Though I prefume that he has done a hundred,
And fcap'd unpunifh'd.
Leop.- He is much in debt to you, You let him ofFfo well. What will you take, Sir/ To beat a fellow far me, that thus wrong'd me 4° .?
Bra. To beat him, fay you ?
Leop. Yes, beat him to lamenefs ; To cut his lips or nofe orF> any thing, That may disfigure him.
Bra. Let me confider : Five hundred piftolets for fuch a fervice, I thinky were no dear pennyworth.
Zab. Five hundred !
Why, there are of your brotherhood in thefcityy I'll undertake, fhall kill a man for twenty.
Bra. Kill him ? I think fo; I'll kill: any man For half the money.
Leop. And will you afk more For a found beating than a murder ?
Bra. Ay, Sir,
And with good reafon j for a dog that's dead,- The Spanilh proverb fays, will never bite : But fhould I beat or hurt him only, he may Recover, and kill me.
Leop. A good conclufion. The obduracy of this rafcal makes me tender : I'll run fome other courfe. There's your reward Without the employment.
Bra. For that, as you pleafe/ Sir.
11 hat will you take, Sir,
To beat afe//o>-w/orMf, that thui <ivrottg'a Me?] ^bus wrong' d' Hie ? The nature and quality of the wrong are not in one f\ liable pre- Biis'd. The Poets certainly wrote, that has -wrong'd me. S \wpfon.
The acute Mr. Symplon did not oblcrve that thm might refer W a fuppofed explanation by Zubujon, before the Bravo's interview v/ith Leopold.
Who
THE COUNTRY. 6^
When you have need to kill a man, pray ufe me ; But I am out at beating. \Exit.
Zab. What's to be done then ?
Leof. I'll tel theej Zabulon, and make thee privy To my mofr. near defigns. This flranger, which Hippolyta fo dotes on, was my prifoner When the latl virgin I bellowed upon her WTas made my prize ; how he efcap'd, hereafter I'll let thee know; and it may be* the love He bears the fervant makes him feorn the miftrefs.1
Zab. 'Tis not unlike; for* the firft time he faw her> His looks exprefs'd fo much ; and^ for more proof, Since he came to my lady's houfe, though yet He never knew her, he hath praftis'd with me To help him to a conference, without The knowledge of Hippolyta; which I promis'd.
Leop. And by all means perform it, for their meeting; But work it fo, that my difdainful miflrefs (Whom, notwithfbanding all her injuries, *Tis my hard fate to love) may fee and hear them,
Zab. To what end, Sir ?
Leap. This, Zabulon : When Ihe fees Who is her rival> and her lover's bafenefs To leave a princefs for her bond-woman, The fight will make her fcorn what r^ow flie dotes on,; I'll double thy reward.
Zab. You are like to fpeed then : For, I confefs, what you will foon believe, We ferve them belt that are moil apt to give. For you, I'll place you where you fhall fee all, And yet be unobferv'd.
Leop. That I defire too, [Exeunt <
Enter Arnoldo.
Arn. I cannot fee her yet. How it afflifts me, The poifon of this place fhould mix itfelf With her pure thoughts ! 'Twas fhe that was com*
manded, Or my eyes fail'd me grofly ; that youth, that face,
E 2 And
63 THE CUSTOM OF
And all that noble fweetnefs. May Hie not live here, And yet be honeft ftill ?
Enter Zenocia^
Zeit. It is Arnoldo, ,
From all his dangers free. Fortune, I blefs thee ! My noble hufband ! how my joy fwells in me ! But why in this place ? what bufinefs hath he here ? He cannot hear of me ; I am not known here. I left him virtuous ; how I fhake to think now ? And how that joy I had cools and forfakes me ?
Enter, above, Hippclyta and Zabulon. This lady is but fair; t have been thought fo, Without compare admir'd. She has bewitch'd him,' And he forgot
"Arn. 'Tis (he again ; the fame/ Tlie fame Zenocia.
Zab. There they are together; Now you may mark.
Hip. Peace; let 'em parley.
Arn. That you are well, Zenocia, and once more Blefs my defpairing eyes 'with your wifh'd prefencej I thank the Gods ! But that I meet you here
Hip. They are acquainted. )
tab. I found that fecret, madam, When you commanded her go home. Pray hear 'em.
Zen. That you meet me here ! ne'er blufh at that,
Arnoldo.
Your cunning comes too late *l : I am a woman ; And one woman with another may be trufted.- Do you fear the hpufe ?
Arn. More than a fear, I know it ; Know it not good, not honeft.
Zen. What do you here then ?
4; Tour coming comes too tate^\ Mr. Theobald propofes reading coining 5 which is preferable to tire word we find in the text ; b'at falls fliort of our Authors' {length of exprtiTion ; who, we do not doubt, wrote cunning ; a confirmation of which occtirs afterwards, in her faying he deals <wtfelj with her.
r thf
T H E C O U N T R Y. 69
J'th* name of virtue, why do you approach it? Will you confefs the doubt, and yet purfae it ? Where have your eyes been wand'ring, my Arnoldo ? What conftancy, what faith, do you call this ? Fy, Aim at one wanton mark, and wound another ? I do coafefs the lady fair, moft beauteous,
[Leopold places Umfdf unfeen below. And able to betray a ftrong man's liberty;
Put you, that have a love, a wife You do well
To deal thus wifely with me. Yet, Arnoldo, Since you are pleas'd to ftudy a new beauty, And think this old and ill, beaten with mifery, Study a nobler way, for fhame, to leave me 4Z : Wrong not her honefry
Arn. You have confirm'd me.
Zen. Who, though fne be your wife, will never
hinder you ;
So much I reft a feryant to your wifhes, And love your loves, though they be my deftruclions. No man ihall know me,, nor the fhare I have in thee -, No eye fufpect lam able to prevent you ; For fince T am a Have to this great lady, Whom I perceive you follow — —
Arn. Be not blinded,
Zen. Fortune fhall make me ufeful to your feryice : I will fpeak for you.
Arn. Speak for me ? You wrong me.
Zen. I will endeavour, all the ways J am able, To make her think well of you : Will that plea'fe } To make her dotp upon you, dote to madnefs. So far, againfl: mylclf, I will pbey you. But when that's done, and I have fhew'd this duty, This great obedience (few will buy't at my price) Thus will I fhake hands with you, wifh you well, But never fee you more, nor receive comfort
41 Study a nobler nx cry for foams to love me ] A nobler way to /t<ve her, when (he fufpe£ieci that he had ceas'd to io<ve her at all ? We mull read, to leave me. The foiegoir.g liaes fufScieqtly evince the genuinenefs of this 'emendation. Seward.
E 3 From
7o THE CUSTOM OF
From any thing, Arnoldo.
Am. You are too tender; I neither doubt yon, nor defire longer To be a man, and live, than I am honed. And only yours : Our infinite affedhons Abus'd us both,
Zab. Where are your favours now ? The courtefies you fhew'd this ft ranger, madam ?
Hip. Have I now found the caufe ?
Zab, Attend it further.
Zen. Did fhe invite you, do you fay ?
Am. Moil cunningly ; And with a preparation of that ftate I was brought in and welcom'd
Zen. Seem'cl to love you ?
Am. Moil infinitely, at firft fight, mcfl doting]}51;
Zen. She is a goodly lady.
Am. Wondrous handfome. At firft view, being taken unprepar'd, Your memory not prefent then to afTift me,
She feern'd fo glorious, fweet, and fo far ftir'd me ^
Nay, be not jealous, there's no harm done.
Zen. Prithee, Didft thou not jdfs, Arnoldo?
Arn. Yes, faith, did I.
7^en. And then
Arn. I cluril not, did not.
Zen. I forgive you : Come, tell the truth.
Arn. May be, I lay with her.
Hip. He mocks me too, moft bafely,
Zen. Did you, faith? Did you forget -fo far ?
Arn. Come, come, no weeping ; I would have lyen nrft in my grave ^ believe that. Why will you afk thofe things you would not hear? She's too intemperate to betray my virtues, Too openly lafcivions. Had fhe dealt Put with that feenvng modefcy fne might.
And
THE COUNTRY, 71
And flung a little art upon her ardor
But 'twas forgot, and I forgot to like her, And glad I was deceiv'd. No, my Zenocia, My firft love here begun, refts here unreap'd yet, And here for ever.
Zen. You have made me happy ; Even in the midft of bondage bleft, . Zab. You fee now, What rubs are in your way.
Hip. And quickly, Zabulon, I'll root 'em out. Be fure you do this prefently.
Zab. Do not you alter then.
Hip. I'm refolute. [Exit Zabulon.
Am. To fee you only I came hither laft, Drawn by no love of hers, nor bafe allurements -, for, by this holy light, I hate her heartily.
Leop. I am glad of that -, you have fav'd me fo
much vengeance, ^.nd fo much fear. Frpm this hour fair befall you-!
y/r^.Some means I fhall make fhortly to redeem you; ?Till when, obferve her well, and fit her temper, Only her luft contemn.
Zen. When fhall I fee you ?
Am. I will live hereabouts, and bear her fair ftill, ?Till I can f)nd a fit hour, to redeem you.
Hip. Shut all the doors.
Am. Who's that ?
Zen. We are betray'd ;
The lady of the houfe has heard our parley^ Seen us, and feen our loves.
Hip. You courteous gallant, You, that fcorn all I can beftow, that laugh at Th' afflictions and the groans I fufFer for you, That flight and jeer my love, contemn the fortune My favours can fling on you, have I caught you ? Have I now found the caufe you fool my wifhes ? Is mine own (lave my bane ? I nourifh that, That fucks up my content. I'll pray no more, Nor woq no more j thou fhalt fee, foolifh man,
E 4 And4
7s T t} E CUSTOM OF
And, to thy bitter pain and anguiih, look on The vengeance I lhall take, provok'd and flighted ; Redeem her then, and fceal her hence. Ho, Zabulonl Now to your work.
Enter Zabulon find Servants, feme holding Arnoldo^Jome ready with a cord to fir angle Zenocia..
Am. Lady ! But hear me fpeajc firft, As you have pity.
Htp I have none. You taught me ; When I even hun.g about your neck, ypu fcorn'd me.
Zab. Shall we pluck yet ?
Kip. No, hold a iittle, Zabulon ; I'll pluck his heart-firings firft. Now am I worthy A little of your love ?
Am. 1'il be your fcr^zint ;
Command me through what danger you fhall aim' ft t, Let it be dea:h !
Hip. Be fure, Sir, I fhall fit you.
*irn> But fpare this virgin *? !
Hip. I would {pare that villain 'firft. Had cut my father's throat.
Arn. Bounteous lady, If in your 'ex there be that noble foftwfs, That tendernef§ of heart, women are crown'd for — *
Zsn. Kneel not, .Vnoldo ; do her not that honour i She is 'not \vorthy fuch fubmiflion : I fcorn a life depends upon her pity. Proud woman, do thy worft, and arm thy anger With thoughts as black as hell, as hot and bloody | I bring a patience here, fhall m^ke 'em blufh, ^Vn innocence, fhall oqtlook thee, and death too.
43 But fpc.re this virgin.' &c.] Mr. Theobald re,»ds, Rut f bare irfsttfrgfif.'
Hip. 1 would fpare, flat villain, Ilud cut niy fatber' s throat* fisit ^
and f.ij-s' * The n'ietrc here is f,> defective, that the tran^ofition. r^d 4 c.^-'e^ion in the pointing, vvhictt' I have made, feem abio!ut>-1y ' nece{r.;ry.* But we r.pprehend, that, as t.he metre is jb frcqucr!.'/ licentious, the pieieiu defect does UQ; vvar;-jn: :;ie .Change,
THE COUNTRY. 73
Am. Make me your flave ; I give my freedom to
, you,
For ever to be fetter'd to your fervice ! 'Twas I offended ; be nor fo unjuft then, To ftrike the innocent. This gentle maid Never intended fear and doubt againft you : She is your fervant ; pay not her obfervance \V ith cruel looks, her duteous faith with death.
J-iip. Am I fair now ? now am I worth your iiking?
Zen. Not fair, not to be liked, thou glorious devil! Thou varnifh d piece of lufr, then painted fury !
'Arn. Sptak gently, fwttt, fpeak gently.
Ztn. Ill fpeak nobly; JTis not the laving of a life I aim at. Mark me, lafcivious woman, mark me truly, And then confkkr, hew I weigh thy anger 1 J-Jfc Js no longer mine, nor dear unto me, Than ufcful to his honour I preferve it. If thou had ft ftudied all the courtefies Humanity and noble blood are link'd to, Thou couldft not have propounded fuch a benefit, Nor heap'd upon me' fuch tmlook'd-for honour, A$ dying for his fake, to be his martyr. *Tis fuel) a grace
Hip. You fhall not want that favour ; Let your bones wprk miiacies !
Am. Dear lady, By thofe fair eyes
Hip. There is but this y/ay left you To lave her life
Arn. .Speak it, and I embrace it.
Plip. ' Come to my private chamber prrfently, 'And there, what love and I command r-
Arn. I'll do it. Be comforted, Zenocia.
-Zen. Do not do this;
To fave'pne, do not lofe yourfelf, I charge you ! 1 charge you by your love, that love you bear me, What love, that comlant iov.e you have twin'd to me,
By
74 THE CUSTOM OF
By all your promifes (take heed you keep 'em)—; Now is your conftant trial ! If thou doft this, Or mov'ft one foot to guide thee to her hi ft, My curfes and eternal hate purfue thee ! Redeem me at the bafe price of difloyalty ? Muft my- undoubted honefty be thy bavJd too? Go, and intwine thyfelf about that body ! Tell her, for my life thou haft loft thine honour, Pull'd all thy vows from Heav'n ; bafely, moft bafely^ Stoop'd to the fervile flames of that foul woman, To add an hour to me that hate thee for it, Know thee not again, nor name thee for a hufband !
Am. What fhall I do to fave her ?
Hip. How now ? what hafte there ?
Enter a Servant.
Ser. The governor, attended with fome gentlemen^ * Are newly enter'd, to fpeak with your ladyihip,
Hip. Pox o' their bufmefs ! Reprieve her for this
hour ; I fhall have other time.
Am. Now, Fortune, help us !
Hip. I'll meet 'em prefently. Retire awhile all. [Ex..
Zab. You rife to-day upon your right fide, lady. You know the danger too, and may prevent it ; And if you fuller her to perilh thus, (As fhe muft.doj and fuddenly, believe it, Unlefs you ftand her friend) you know the way on't$ I guefs you poorly love her, lefs your fortune, Let her know nothing, and perform this matter? There are hours ordain'd for feveral bufinenes. You underftand
Arn. I underftand you bawd, Sir, And fuch a counfellor I never car'd for.
Enter the Governor , Clodioy Leopold, Charino and at- • tendants at one door., liffpolyta at the other.
Hip. Your.lordfhip does me honour. GGV. FairHippolyta,
I'm
THE COUNTRY. 75
I'm come to eafc you of a charge.
Hip. I keep none I count a burden, Sir. — And yet I lie too.
Gov. Which is the maid ? Is (lie here ?
Clod. Yes, Sir ; -this is fhe, this is Zenocia ; The very lame I fued to your lordfhip for.
Zen. Clodio again ? More mifery ? more ruin ? Under what angry flar is rny life govern'd ?
Gov. Come hither, maid: You a,re once more a free
woman ; Here I difcharge your bonds.
Am. Another fmile, Another trick of Fortune to betray us !
Hip. Why does your lordfhip ule me fo unnobly ? Againft rny will, to take away my bond-woman ?
Gov. She was no lawful prise, therefore no bond woman :
She's of that country we hold friendfhip with, And ever did ; and, therefore, to be us'd With entertainment fair and courteous. The breach of league in us gives foul example; Therefore, you mult be pleas'd to think this honeft. Did you know what me was ?
Leop. Not 'till this inftant"; For -had I known her, fhe had been no prifoner.
Gov. There, take the maid •, fne's at her own dif-
pofe now :
And if there be ought elfe to do your honour Any poor fervice in
Clod. I am vow'd your feryant.
Arri. Your father's here too, that's our only comfort; And in a country now, we itand free people, \Vhcre Clo'iio has no power. Be comforted.
Zen. 1 fear fome trick yet.
A~n. Be not fo dejected.
Gov. You m,uft not be difpleas'cl; fo, farewell, lady. Come, gentlemen. Captain, you mujt with me tooj
have a little buflnefs.
•'Leop. I attend your lordihip.
Now
76 THE CUSTOM OF
Now my way's free, and my hope's lord again 44.
[Exeunt all but Hip. and Zab,
Hip. D'ye jeer me now ye are going ? I may live yet KO make you howl both.
Zab. You might hav;e done; you had power thenj But now the chains are off, the command loft -9 And fuch a ftory they will make of this, To laugh out lasy time
Hip. No means yet left me? For now I burft with anger! None to fatisfy me? No comfort ? no revenge ?
Zab. You (peak too )ate-,
You might have had all thcfe your ufeful fervants. Had you been wife and fudden. What pow'r, or will,. Over her beauty have you now, by violence To conftrain his love ? She is as free as you are, And no law can impeach her liberty ; And, while fhe's fo, Arnoldo will defpife you.
Hip. Either my love or anger mull be fatisfied, Or i rnqft die !
£ab. I have a way would do ir, Would do it yet j protect me from the law.
Hip. From any thing! Thou know'ft what power
I have, %
What money, and what friends.
Zab. 'Tis a devilifh one :
But fuch mud now be us'd. Walk in, I'll tell you -9 And if you like it, if the cievi-1 can do any thing
Hip. Devil, or what tliou wilt, fo I be fatisficd.
[Exeunt. Enter Sulpitla and Jaques.
SuL This is the rareft and the luilieft fellow, And fo beftirs himfelf —
Ja. Give him breath, miftrels ; You'll melt him elfe.
**• Nsiv myivaysfreei and my hope:. £;rds againe ] This Is the reading of the oldefl edition; but as ihtre is no making (eufeof the paffage in tins ilate, we have, with Mr. 1 heobald, followed the folio of ;6;9.
THE COUNTRY. 77
, Sui. He does perform fuch wonders •
The women are rnad on him.
Ja. Give him breath, I fay; The man is but a man •, he muft have breath.
Sul. How many had he yefterday ?
Ja. About fourteen; and they paid bravely too*5. But (till I cry, give breath; fpare him, and have him.
Sul. Five dames to-day : This was a fmall ftage -, He may endure five more.
Ja. Breath, breath, I cry dill ; Body o'me, give breath; the man's a loft mari elfe. Feed him, and give him breath.
Enter two Gentlewomen*
SuL Welcome, gentlewomen -y You're very welcome.
i Gen. \Ve hear you Have a lufty and wcll-cbm-
plcxion'd fellow,
That does rare tricks. My filter and myfelf here Would trifle out an hour or two, fo pleafe you.
Sul. Jaques, conduct 'em in.
Both. There's for your courtefy. \Ex. Ja. andGetit.
Sul. Good pay ftill, good round pay. This happy
fellow
Will fet me up again ; he brings iri gold Fader than I have leifure to receive it. Oh, that his body were not flefh, and fading !
But I'll fo pap him up Nothing too dear for him*
What a fwcet fcent he has? Now, what news, Jaques?
Ja. He cannot laft •, I pity the poor man,
** tionu many had be yeflerday ? And they paid bravely too.
Ja, About fourteen,] The Uecfffary tranfpofition here is fo fe'f* evident, that it wants no note in coi,firmation. The me:re is lame and defective ; and Sulpitia is made to fay what belongs to Jaques, which quite deitroys the fenfe. I decline faying more upon this occafioo, becaufe, as the fubjedl is not a little diffolute, pudet hi$ nequitiis irh- inorari. A proper regard to decency is a refpec.1 due to the readers ; and an editor ever ought to bluih, when he lakes a Voluntary liberty of offending them.
}S THE CtJStbM OF
I fuffer for him. Two coaches of young city-dame$s
And they drive as the devil were in the wheels,
Are ready now to enter : And behind theie,
An old dead --pa Hied lady, in a lirter j
And flie makes all the hafte fhe can. The man's loft!
You may gather up his dry bones to make nine-pins 5
But, for his fiefh-
Sul. Thefe are but eafy labours 5 Yet, for I know he mud have reil -
Ja. He muft j You'll beat him off his legs elfe prefently.
Sul. Go in, and bid him pieafe himfelf ; I'm pleas'd
too.
To-morrow's a new day. But, if he can, I would have him take pity o'th'old lady; Alas-, 'tis charity !
Ja. I'll tell him all this; And, if he be'not too fool-hardy- -
Enter Zalulon*
Sul. How now ? What news with you ?
Zal\ You mult prefently Shew all the art you have, and for my
SUl. She may command.
Zab. You muft not dream nor trifle.
Sul. \Vhich way?
Zab. A fpell you muft prepare, a pow'rful one j Perufe but theie directions, you {hall find all ; There is the pi&ure too : Be quick and faithful,
And do it with that ftrength When 'tis perform'd^
Pitch your reward at what you pleale, you have it.
Sul. I'll do my^beft, and fuddenly. But, hark ye, Will yon never lie at home again ?
Zab. Excufe me 5 I have too much bufinefs yet*
Sul. I am right glad on't.
Zab. Think on your bufinefs : fo, farewell.
Sul. I'll do it.
Zab.
T H £ CotJNTRY. 79
Zal. Within this hour I'll vifit you again, And give you greater lights.
Sul. I (hallobferve you.
This brings a brave reward •, bravely I'll do it* And all the hidden art I have, exprefs in'c.
{Exeunt at both
Enter Rut i Ho with a night -cap.
Rut. Now do I look as if I were crow-trodden ! Fy, how my hams fhrink under me ! Oh me, I am broken-winded too ! Is this a life ? ' Js this the recreation I have aim'd at ? 1 had a body once, a handfome body, And wholefome too : Now I appear like a rafcal^ That had been hung a year or two in gibbets. Fy, how [ faint ! Women ! keep me from women ! Place me before a cannon, 'tis a pleafure $ Stretch me upon a rack, a recreation -, But women ! women ! oh, the devil ! women ! Curtius's gulf was never half ib dangerous. Is there no way to find the trap^door again, And fall into the cellar, and be taken ? No lucky fortune to direct me that way ? No gallies to be got, nor yet no gallows ? For I fear nothing now, no earthly thing^ But thefe unfatisfied men-leeches, women ! How devilimly my bones ake ! Oh, the old lady: F I have a kind of waiting-woman lies crofs my back toaj Oh, how (he flings ! No treafon to deliver me ? Now, what are you ? do you mock me ?
Enter three, with night-caps, very faintly.
1. No, Sir, no ;
We were your predeceflfors in this place.
a. And come to fee how you bear up.
Rut. Good gentlemen !
You feem to have a muffling in your head^ Sir, A parlous muffling •, but this fame dampifh air --
2. A dampifh air, indeed.
Rut.
So T H E C U S TOM OF
Rut. Blow your face tenderly, Your nofe will ne'er endure it. Mercy o* me, What are men changed to here! Is my nofe /ail yet? Methinks it (Hakes i'th* hilts. Fray tell mCygcntletndfi, How long is't fince you fiourim'd here ?
j. Not long fince.
Rut. Move yourfelf eafily ; I fee you are tender; Nor long endured ?
2. The labour was Ib much, Sir^ And To few to perform it — • — -
Rut. Mull I come to this, And draw my legs after nne, like a lame dog ? I cannot run away, I am too feeble. Will you fue for this place again, gentlemen ?
1. No truly, Sir, the place has been too warm fof
our complexions.
2. We have enough cn't : Reft you merry, Sir ! We came but to congratulate your fortune ;
You have abundance.
3. Bear your fortune foberly ;
And fo we leave you to 'the next fair lady.
[Exeunt the three*
Rut. Stay bur a little, and I'll meet you, gentlemen',? At the next hofpital. There's no living thus, Nor am I able to endure it longer : With all the help and heats that can be given mey 1 ami at my trot already 46. They are fair and young^ Mod of the women that repair unto me; But they flick on like burs, fhake me like feathers,
Enter Sulpitia. ". **
More women yet ? 'Would I were honeftly married
*6 With all the helps and heats that can be given me
I'm fit my trot already.} The firft line here would be ver^r obf- fcure, and the text to be very much fufpe&ed, but for the fubfequent one ; from which, I think, tlie allufian is plainly to the managery of hcrfes. It is the duty of a groom to give his horfes heats, (t. e. to' pace *em out in a morning) leatt they mould grow reftiv.e and mort- winded. This Rutilio complains to be his cale, he is quite broken- winded, beaten off his fpeed, is reduced to a //<?/, and pa.ft all powef of galloping. Theobald.
To
THE COUNTRY; 8r
To any thing that had but half a face, And not a groat to keep her, rior a fmock j That I might be civilly merry when I pleas'd, Rather than labouring iri thefe fulling-mills.
$ul. By thi&, the fpell begins to work* You arelufty* t fee } you bear up bravely yet.
Rut. Do you hear, lady ?
Do not make a game-bear of me; to play me hourly And fling on all your whelps ; it will not hold : Play me with fome difcretion j to-dayj one courfej And, two days hence, another.
Sul. If you be fo angry; Pay back the money, I redeem'd you at; And take your courfe ; I can have men eriough; You have coft me a hundred crowns firice you came
hither,
In broths and ftrength'ningcaudles ; till you do pay me^ If you will eat and live; you fhall endeavour $ "••'• I'll chain you to't elfe.
Rut, Make me a dog-kennel, I'll keep your houfe and bark, and feed on barfe bone$$ And be whipp'd out o' doors ! Do you mark me, lady ?
whipp'd ! Ml eat old fhOes;
Enter Ditarie.
Dua. In this houfe, I am told, There is a flranger, of a goodly perfori j
And fuch a one there was If I could fee hinfy
I yet remember him.
Sul. Your bufmefsi Sir ? If it be for a woman, you are cozen'd ; I keep none here. [£#//*
Dua. Certain, this is the gentleman : The very fame.
Rut. 'Death ! if I had but money* Or any friend to bring me from this btihdage, I'd threfh, fet tip a cobier'S (hop, keep hogs; And feed with 'em, fell tinder-boxes" Arid knights of ginger-bread; thatch for thfe£ JHa-lf-pence a day; arid think it lordly; VOL. II. F Frora
$c THE CUSTOM OF
From this bafe ftallion-trade. Why does he eye me, Eye me fo narrowly ?
Dua, It feems, you are troubled, Sir ; I heard you fpeak of want.
Rut. 'Tis better hearing Far, than relieving. Sir.
Dua. I do not think fo $ You know me not.
Rut. Not yet, that I remember.
Dua. You fhall, and for your friend -, I am beholden
to you,
Greatly beholden, Sir. If you remember, You fought with fuch a man, they call'd Duarte, A proud diftemper'd man : He was my enemy, My mortal foe ; you flew him fairly, nobly.
Rut. Speak foftly, Sir 3 you do not mean to be tray me ? I wifh'd the gallows ; now they're coming fairly.
Dua. Be confident ; for, as I live, I love you ; And now you fhall perceive it : For that fervice, Me and my purfe command j there, take it to you ; 'Tis gold, and no fmall fum$ a thoufand ducats ; Supply your want.
Rut. But do you do this faithfully ?
Dua. If I mean ill, fpit in my face, and kick me. In what elfe may I ferve you, Sir ?
Rut. I thank you !
This is as flrange to me as knights' adventures. I have a project, 'tis an honed one, A id now I'll tempt my fortune.
Dua. Trufl me with it.
Rut. You are fo good and honed, I mud truft you 3 Tis but to carry a letter to a lady, That fav'd my life once.
Dua. That will be mod thankful $ I will do't with all care.
Rut. Where are you, White-broth?
Enter Sulpitia.
Now, ludy blood, come in, and tell your money;
Tis
: THE COUNTRY. 83
'Tis ready here : No threats, nor no orations, Nor prayers now.
Sul. You do not me an to leave me ?
Rut. I'll live in hell fooner than here, and cooler. Come quickly, come,difpatch ! this air's Unwholfome. Quickly^ good lady, quickly t6't !
Sid. Well, fince it miift be^ The next I'll fetter fader fure^ and clofer.
Rut. And pick his b6nes> as you've done mine* pox take you !
Qua. At my lodging, for a while> you fhall be
quartered, And there take phyfic for your health.
Rut. I thank you. I have found my angel how rob, if lean keep him !
A G T V, SCENE!,
Enter Rxtilio and Duarte.
&ut*. \T O U like the letter ?
}[ Dua. Yes j but I muft tell you> You tempt a defperate hazard^ to folicit The mother (and the griev'd one too, 'tis rurhour'd) Of him you fle\v fo lately*
Rut. t have told you
Some proofs of her affection j and I kndw not A nearer way to make her fatisfaction For a loft ibn, than fpeedily to help her To a good hufband •> one that will beget Both fons and daughters, if fhe be not barren* 1 have had a breathing now, and have recovef'd What I loft in my late fervice ; 'twas a hot one ; It fired and fired me47 ; but, all thanks to you, Sir,
47 It fired and fired me ; bm> all thanks lojou, Sir,
Ton have both freed and cool'd me.] 1 imagine, an antithefis was defign'd bv the roets in this p^fiage, but h; If of u is quite lo^.
F 2 Cool' 4
84 THE CUSTOM OF
You have both freed and coord me.
Dua. What is done, Sir,
I thought well done, and was in that rewarded ; And therefore fpare your thanks.
Rut. I'll no more whoring;
This fencing 'twixt a pair of (heets more wears one Than all the exercife in the world befides. To be drunk with good canary, a mere julep, Or like gourd-water to it ; twenty furfeits Come Ihort of one night's work there. If I get this
lady,
(As ten to one I fhall ; I was ne'er denied yet) I will live wondrous honeftlyj walk before her Gravely and demurely, And then inftruct my family. You are fad ; What do you mufe on, Sir ?
Dua. Truth, I was thinking
What courfe to take for the delivery of your letter; And now I have it. Bur, faith, did this lady (For do not gull yourfcif) for certain know, You kill'd her fon ?
Rut. Give me a book, I'll fwear't ; Deny'd me to the officers that purfu'd me, Brought me herfelf to the door, then gave me gold To bear my charges \ and fhall I make doubt then But that fhe lov'd me ? I am confident, Time having ta'en her grief off, that I fhall be Moil welcome to her : For then to have woo'd her, Had been unfeafonable.
nds very well in oppbfition to fired '; but the contraft to f reef is wanting. My conjecture Uippiies the other put of the antithefis : For Rutilio was not only fired in his i>ot fervice, but fitter"1 d to it $ fo confin'd, and wacch'd, that he could not make an efcape.
Sjmffon. Mr. Sympfon reads,
Itfirtd and fetterM me ; lut, all thanks to you, Sir, Tou have both freed and cooPd me.
This alteration, being unauthorized, we think unwarrantable, at the fame time that it is injurious to the metre, and no great improve ment of the fenfe. There fcems to us, alfo, to be a vigor of exprcf- fion in the repetition, fred and fired, which is enfeebled by Mr. Sympfon's alteration.
THE COUNTRY. 85
Dua. Well, Sir, there's more money, To make you handfome. I'll about your bufmefs: You know where you muft ftay ?
Rut. There you fhall find me. 'Would 1 could meet my brother now, to know Whether the Jew his genius, or my Chriftian, Has prov'd the better friend. [Exit.
Dua. Oh, who would truft Deceiving woman 4* ? or believe, that one The bed, and moil canoniz'd, ever was More than a feeming goodnefs ? I could rail now Againft the fex, and curfe it ; but the theme And way's too common. Yet that Guiomar My mother (nor let that forbid her to be The wonder of our nation), fhe that was Mark'd out the great example for all matrons, Both wife and widow; fhe that in my breeding Exprefs'd the utmoft of a mother's care, And tendernefs to a fon ; Hie that yet feigns Such forrow for me ; good God, that this mother, After all this, fhonld give up to aftranger The wreak fne ow'd her fon49 ! I fear her honour. That he was fav'd, much joys me -, I grieve orily, That fhe was his preferver. I'll try further, A<nd, by this engine, find whether the tears, Of which fhe is fo prodigal, are for me, Or us'd to cloke her bafe hypocrify. [Exit.
Enter Hippolyta and Sulpitia, Hip. Are you afTur'd the charm prevails? Sul. Do I "live?
48 Oht ivho would truft
Deceiving <u,ornan ?"] In writing this fevere Jnve&ive ngainft the female fex, our Author? kern to h-ve had the welKknoww fpeecb of Poiiiiumus in their contemplation. See Cymheljne, aft ii. fcer/e v.
49 --- Good Gid, t
dftcr all this,, fowld gi-ve up to a ft ranger
The wreak^ ovu^d her Jon f] i. e. That (lie {houK? give up the right and djty of vengeance which (lie ow'd for her fon's murder, by fcreening, protecting, and difroiiting his murderer out of the pur suit and reach of juiiice. ^bubald.
Fj Or
86 THE CUSTOM OF
Or you fpeak to me ? Now, this very inftanfc,
Health takes its laft leave of her ; meagre palenefs,
Like winter, nips the rofes and the lillies,
The fpring that youth and loye adorn'd her face with.,
To force affeclion is beyond our art ;
For I have prov'd all means that hell has taught mex
Or th' malice of a woman, which exceeds it,
To change Arnoldo's love j b ;;t tp np purpofe.
But, for your bond-woman -
Hip. Let her pine and die ! She remov'd, which like a brighter fun Obfcures my beams, I may fhine out again, And, as I have been, be adrnir'd and fought to,. How long has (he to live ?
Sul Lady, before
The fun twice rife and fet, be confident, She is but dead ; I know my charm hath found hey* Nor can the governor's guard, her lover's tears5 Her father's forrow, or his pow'r tha$ freed her^ Defend her from it.
Enter
ZcJ>. All things have fucceeded As you could wifh ; I few her brought fick home, The image of pale death ftamp'd on her forehead. Let me adore this fecond Hecate,, This great commandrefs of the fatal fifters, That, as ihe pleafes, can flmt fhortj or lengthen^ The thread of life !
Hip. Where was Hie vyhen, th' enchantment Firlt feiz'd upon her ?
Zab.. Taking the frefh air,
I'th' company of the governor and count Clodio ; Arnoldo too was prefent, with her father ; When, in a, moment (fo the fervants told me) As ilie was giving thanks to the governor And Clodio, for her une^pefted freedom, As if Hie had been blaftco, flic funk down, To their amazement.
Hip.
THE COUNTRY. 87
Hip. 'Tis thy matter-piece,
Which I will fo reward, that thou flialt fix here s° : And, with the hazard of thy life, no more Make trial of thy pow'rful art ; which, known, Our laws call death ? Off with this magical robe, * And be thyfelf.
Enter Governor, Clodloy and Charing
Sul. Stand clofe ; you (hall hear more.
Man. You muft have patience ; all rage is vain now, And piety forbids that we fhould queftion What is decreed above, or aflc a reafon, Why Heav'n determines this or that way of us.
Clod. Heav'n has no hand in't ; 'tis a work, of hell ! Her life hath been fo innocent, all her actions So free from the fufpicioa of a crime, As rather fhe deferves a faint's place here, Than to endure what now her fweetnefs fufFers.
Char. Not for her fault, but mine, Zenocia fufFers: The fin I made, when I fought to raze down Arnoldo's love, built on a rock of truth, Now to the height is punifh'd. I profefs, Had he no birth nor parts, the prefent forrow He now exprefTes for her, does deferve her Above all kings, though fuch had been his rivals*
Clod. All ancie-nt (lories, of the love of luifbands To virtuous wives, be now no more remember'd !
Char. The tales of turtles ever be forgotten, Or, for his fake, believ'd !
Man. I have heard, there has been. Between fome married pairs fuch fympathy, That the hufband has felt really the throes His wife then teeming fufFers : This true grief Confirms, 'tis not impoffible.
Clcd. We fhall find
*° Which livillfi re>ivarj, that thou (halt fix here, v5V. ]•"/.*. I'll reward thf-e fo liberally, as to fet ihee above all the necefiities of life, and thou fh.iit cell in this lid trial of thy pernicious deilruftive prac tices, which, once difcaver'd, are death by the laws. Iheobaiei.
F4 Fit
$8 T'fi'E CUSTOM OF
Fit time for this hereafter ; let's ufe now All poflible means to help her.
Man. Care, nor coft,
NOF what phyficians can do, fhall be wanting ; Make ufe of any means or men.
Char. You are noble. [Ex. Man. Clod, and Char*
Sul. Ten colleges of doftors (hall not fave her. Jler fate is in your hand.
flip. Can I reftore her B
Sul. If you command my art.
Hip. I'll diemyfelffirft! And yet I will go vifit her, and fee This miracle of forrow in Arnoldo : An 'twere for me, I ihould change places with her^ And die moft happy ! Such a lover's tears Were a rich monument; but too good for her, "VVhofe mifery I glory in. Come, Sulpitia, You fhall along with me. Good Zabulpn^ Be not far off.
Zab. I will attend you, madam. \Exeunt.
Enter Duarte and a Servant.
Ser. I have ferv'd you from my youth, and ever you Have found me faithful. That you live 's a treafure I'll lock up here ; nor fhall it be let forth, But when you give me warrant.
Dua. I rely
Upon thy faith : Nay, no more protections ; Too many of them will call that in queftion, Which now I doubt not. She is there ?
Ser. Alone too 5
But take it on my life, your entertainment. Appearing as you are, will be but coarfe. For the difpleafure I fhall undergq I am prepar'd. - X
Dua. Leave me; I'll ftanctthe hazard. [Exit Servant. The filence that's obferv'd, her clofe retirement^ No vifitants admitted, not the day, Thefe fable cdiours, all fisns of true forrow,
Or
THE COUNTRY. 89
Or hers is deeply counterfeit. Til look nearer; Manners, give leave ! She fits upon the ground ; By Heav'n, fhe weeps j my picture in her hand too $ She kitfes it, and weeps again.
Enter Guiomar,
Gut. Who's there ?
Dua. There is no darting back now, madam.
Gut. Ha!
Another murderer! I'll not protect thee, Though I have no more fons.
Dua. Your pardon, lady ; There's no fuch foul faft taints me,
Gui. What mak'it thou here then ? Where are my fervants ? Do none but my forrows Attend upon me ? Speak, what brought thee hither?
Dua. A will to give you comfort.
Gut. Thou'rt but a man, And 'tis beyond a human reach to do it. Jf thou couldfb raife the dead out of their graves, Bid time run back, make me now what I was, A happy mother, gladly I would hear thee ! But that's impoflible.
Dua. Pleale you but to read this; You (hall know better there why I am fenr, Than if I Ihould deliver it.
GUI. From whom comes it ?
Dua. That will inftruct you . — I fufpect this ftranger; Yet fhe fpake fomething that holds fuch alliance With his reports, I know not what to think on't. What a frown was there ? She looks me thro' and thro', Now reads again, now paufes, and now fmiles j And yet there's more of anger in't than mirth. Thefe are flrange changes! Oh, I underftand it! She's full of ferious thoughts.
Gut. You are j uft, you Heav'ns, And never do forget to hear their pray?rs, That truly pay their vows ! The deferr'd vengeance, For you and niy word's fake fa long deferr'd,
Under
90 THE CUSTOM OF
Under which as a mountain my heart groans yet, When 'twas defpair'd of, now is offer'd to me ; And, if I lofe it, I am both ways guilty. The woman's mafk, difTimulation, help me ! Cotne hither, friend ; 1 am fureyou know the gentleman That fent thefe charms.
Dua. Charms, lady?
Gut. Ay, thefe charms;
I well may call them fo j they've won upon me More than e'er letter did. Thou art his friend, (The confidence he has in thee confirms it) And, therefore, I'll be open-breafted to thee : To hear of him, though yet I never faw him, Was moft defir*d of all men ! Let. me blufh, And then PH fay I love him,
Dtta. All men fee, In this, a woman's virtue J
GUI. I expected,
For the conrtefy I did, long fince to have feen him j And though I then forbad it, you, men know, Between our hearts and tongues there's a large diftance. But I'll excufe him ; may be, hitherto He has forborne it^ in refpedt my fort Fell by his hand.
Dua. And reafon, lady.
Gut. No;
He did me a pleafure in't ; a riotous fellow, And, with that, infolent, not worth the owning \ I have indeed kept a long folemn forrow, For my friends' fake partly; but efpecially For his long abfence.
Dua. Oh, the devil \
Gul. Therefore,
Bid him be fpeedy -, a prieft fhajl be ready To tie the holy knot. This kifs I (end him ;_ Deliver that, and bring him.
Dua. I am dumb :
A good caufe I have now, and a good fwosd^ And fome thing I fhall do ! I wait upon you. [Ex&
Enter
THE COUNTRY. 91
JLnter Manuel^ Charine, Arnoldo, Zenocia borne in a chair^ two. Doffors, and CLodio.
Doft. Give her more air •, (he dies elfe.
Arn. Oh, thou dread pow'r, That mad'ft this all, and of thy workmanfhip This virgin wife, the m after- piece, look down on her! Let her mind's virtues, cloath'd in this fair garment, That worthily deferves a better name Than flem. and blood, now fue, and prevail for her ! Qr, if thofe are deny'd, let innocence, To wbich all paflages in Heav'n itand open, Appear in Her white robe, before thy throne, And mediate for her! Or, if this age of fin %ie worthy of a miracle, the fun In his diurnal progrefs never faw So fweet a fubject to employ it on !
Man. Wonders are ceas'd, Sir, we muft work by means.
Arn. 'Tis true, and fuch reverend phyiicians are : To you thus low 1 fall then ! So may you ever J3e ftyl'd the hands of Heav'n, Nature's reftorers -9 pet wealth and honours j and by your fuccefs, Jn all your undertakings, propagate your great opinion in the world, as now You life your faying art! For know, good gentlemen, pefides the fame, and all that I pofTefs, For a reward, pofterity (hall Hand Indebted to you •, for (as Heav'n forbid it) Should my Zenocia die, robbing this age Of all that's good or graceful, times fucceeding, The (lory of her pure life not yet perfect, 'Will fuffer in the want of her example.
Doff. Were ail the world to perifh with her, we Can do no more than what art and experience Give us affu ranee of. We have us'd all means To find the caufe of her difeafe, yet cannot : 1 low mould we then, prqmife the cure ? Arn. Away !
I did
92 THE CUSTOM OF
J did belie you, when I charg'd you with The pow'r of doing : Ye are mere names only,' And ev'n your beft perfection accidental. Whatever malady thou art, or fpirit, (As fome hold all difeafes that afflift us) As love already makes me fenfible Of half her fuffcrings, eafe her of her part, And let me (land the butt of thy fell malice, And I will fwear thou'rt merciful !
Doft. Your hand, lady. \Vhat a ftrange heat is here ? Bring fome warm water.
Arn. She mall ufe nothing that is yours ^ my forrow Provides her of a better bath ; my tears Shall do that office.
Zen. Oh, my bell Arnoldo ! The trneft of all lovers ! I would live, Were Heav'n fo pleas'd, but to reward your forrow With my true fervice ; but fince that's denied me, May you live long and happy ! Do not fuficr (By your affection to me, I conjure you) My fkknefs to infe6t you •, though much love JVJakes you too fubject to it.
Am. In this only
Zenocia wrongs her fervant : Can the body Subfift, the foul departed ? 'tis as eafy, As I to live without you ! I am your hufband, And long have been fo, though our adverfe fortune, Bandying us from one hazard to another, Would never grant me fo much happinefs As to pay a huiband'-s debt. Ddpke of fortune, In death I'll follow you, and guard mine own -, And there enjoy what here my fate forbids me !
Clod. So true a forrow, and ib feelingly Exprefii'd, I never read of.
Man. I am flruck With wonder to behold it, as with pity.
Char. If yon, that are a ftranger, fuffer for them, Being tied no further than humanity Leads you to ibft companion , think, great Sir,
What
THE COUNTRY. 93
What of necefiity I muft endure, That am a father !
Hippolyta, Zabulon, and Sulpitia at the door.
Hip. Wait me there ; I hold it Unfit to have you ieen. As I find caufe, You fhall proceed.
Man. You're welcome, lady.
Hip. Sir,
I come to do a charitable office. How does the patient ?
Clod. You may enquire
Of more than one ; for two are fick, and deadly : He languifties in herj her health's dcfpair'd of, And in hers, his.
Hip. Tis a ftrange fpe&acle : V/ith what a patience they fit unmov'd ? Are they not dead already ?
Do£f. By her pulfe, She cannot laft a day.
Am. Oh, by that fummons, I know my time too !
Hip. Look to the man ! . Clod. Apply
Your art to iave the lady; preferve her, A town is your reward 51 !
Hip. I'll treble it In ready gold, if you reftore Arnoldo ;
5' A town is your reward.
Hif. Ill treble it
In ready gold.] / cant think, how a town Jhould be trebled in ready money. Indeed, where it is made a guarantee, or hoibge, it may be rated at a particular value ; or where it is fimply mortgaged, .-another may be willing to advance three times the value. Bur. Clodio had no town to give away ; and if he had, what fhould Sulpitia, or the Doftor, do with it ? it muft be croivn, or golden coronet, or nothing : Upon which Hippolyta replies, that {he'll give thrice the value of fuch a coronet in ready money. Sympfon,
A croivn or town were equally out of Clodio's power to g've^ To tl.ink he meant merely a golden coronet is poor and childilh. He fpcaks fyffrte/ifa/fy, not literally*
For
94 TH£CUS±OMOF
For in his death I die too.
Clod. Without her I am no more*
Arn. Are you there, madam ? Now You may feaft on my miferies. My coldnefs In anfwering your affections, or hardnefs, Give it what name you pleafe, you are reveng'd of ^ For now you may perceive, our thread of life Was fpun together, and the poor Arnoldo Made only to enjoy the bed Zenocia> And not to ferve the ufe of any other ; And, in that, me may equal 5l; my lord Clodio Had long fince elfe -enjoy 'd her : Nor could I Have been fo blind, as not to fee your great And many exellencies, far, far beyond Or my defer vings, or my hopes. We are now Going our latelt journey, and together : Our only comfort we defire •, pray, give it ; Your chanty to our ames, fuch we rriuft be, And not to curfe our memories.
Hip. I'm much mov'd.
Clod. I'm wholly overcome. All love to women, Farewell for ever ! Ere you die, your pardon •, And yours, Sir ! Had me many years to live. Perhaps I might look on her as a brother, But as a lover never. And fmceall Your fad misfortunes had original From th' barb'rous Cuftom praclis'd in my country, Heav'n witnefs, for your fake, I here releafe.it. So, to your memory, chaite wives and virgins Shall ever pay their vows. I give her to you -t And wifh me were fo now, as when my lull Forc'd you to quit the country.
Hip. It is in vain To llrive with delliny -, here my dotage ends !
** And in that Jbe may equal.] * Mr. Symplon and I both favv, ' fays Mr. Theobald, that the Poets wrote " my equal/' But the old reading feems to us very good fenfe j fi2;nirying, that ' in that « refpea, Zenocia may be faid to equal his afetion; which is proved * by her having icfufed Clodio.'
Look
THE COUNTRY. 9j
Look up, Zenocia ! Hcalch in me fpeaks to you ;
She gives him to you, that, by divers ways
So long has kept him from you ! And repent not,
That you were once my fervant ; for which, health,
In recompence of what I made you fufFcr,
And th' hundred thoufand crowns the city owes me,
Shall be your dower,
Man. 'Tis a magnificent gift, Had it been timely given.
Hip. It is, believe it. Sulpitia !
Enter Sulpitia and a Servant 5*.
SuL Madam.
Hip. Quick, undo the charm ! Afk not a reafon why \ let it fuffice, It is my will.
Sul. Which I obey, and gladly. f Exit.
Man* Is to be married) fay'ft thou ?
Ser. So me fays, Sir, And does defire your prefence.
Man. Tell her 1*11 come,
Hip. Pray carry them to their reft; for tho' already They do appear as dead, let my life pay for't, If they recover not. [They are borne off in chain.
Man. What you have warranted, Allure yourielf, will be expected from you-, Look to them carefully^ and till the trial -
Hip. Which fhall not be above four hours*
Man. Let me Entreat your companies : There now is fomething
5J Fttitr Suffitf'ia, and a Servant .] Mr. Theobald informs us> Mr. Sympfon fagacioufiy hinted to hims that the Servant fhould not enter 'when Sulpitia does* but on her departure j and therefore, when &« is gone, he reads,
Enter a Servant, who whifperS Manuel*
With all du-edefcience tothe/agadty of the one, and the cvmplai fence Of the orher, we think this alteration arbitrary and hurtful ; for, if the Se?v.mt enters at the tame time as. Sulpitia, he has time to j;ive the information, which Manuel appears to have acquired,, while Hip- l^olyta fpeaks to Suloitia.
Of
96 THE CUSTOM OF
Of weight invites me hence.
All. We'll wait upon you. [Excunf*
Enter Guiomar and Servants.
Gut. You underftand what my directions are, And what they guide you to * the faithful promife You've made me all.
All. We do, and will perform it*
Gut. The governor will not fail to be here prefently* Retire a while, till you mall find occafion j And bring me word when they arrive.
All. We (hall, madam.
Gut. Only ftay you to entertain.
I Ser. I am ready.
Gui. I wonder at the bold and practis'd malice^ Men ever have o* foot againft our honours *, That nothing we can do, never fo virtuous, No fhape put on fo pious (no, not think What a good is, be that good ne'er fo noble* Never fo laden with admir'd example) But dill we end in lull •, our aims, our a&ions, Nay, even our charities, with luft are branded ! Why mould this flranger elfe, this wretched ftranger^ Whofe life I fav'd at what dear price flicks here yety Why mould he hope? He was not here an hour ^ And certainly in that time, I may fwear it, I gave him no loofe look ; I had no reafon ! Unlefs my tears were flames, my curfes courtfhips^ The killing of my fon a ktndnels to me. Why mould he fend to me, or with what fafety (Examining the ruin he had wrought me) Though at that time my pious pity fcnc'd him, And my word fix'd ? I am troubled, ftrongly troubled,-
Enter a Servant.
Ser. The gentlemen are come.
Gui. T hea bid sem welcome* I muft retire \JLxtf*
Enter
THE COUNTRY. 97
Enter Rutilio, and Duarte difguis'd.
Ser. You are welcome, gentlemen.
Rut. I thank you, friends I would fpeak with your lady.
Ser. I'll- Jet her underilancL
Rut. It (hall befit you. [Ex. Servant.
How do I look, Sir, in this handibme trim ? Methinks, I am wondrous brave S4.
Dua. You're very decent.
Rut. Thefe by themfelvess without more helps of
nature,
Would fet a woman hard : I know 'em all, And where their firft aims light. I'll lay my head on't, I'll take her eye, as foon as fhe looks on me j And if I come to fpeak once, woe be to her ! I have her in a nooze, fhe cannot 'fcape me; I have their feveral lafts.
Dua. You are thoroughly ftudied. But tell -me-, Sir, being unacquainted with her, As you confefs you are
Rut. That's not an hour's work ; I'll make a nun forget her beads in two hours.
Dua. She being fet in years s next, none of thofe
Hi fires
Appearing in her eye that warm the fancy ; Nor nothing in her face but handfome ruins
Rut. I love old ftories : Thofe live believ'd/ au thentic,
54 1 am wondrous brave.] /. e. As the word is ufed by our antient writers, jine, handfome, magnificent. So Shakefpeare,
' What think you, if he were convey'd to-bed,
' Wrapt in fvveet cloaths ; rings put upon his fingers ;
* A mctl delicious banquet by his bed }•
' And lra<ve attendants near him.* Taming of the Sbreiu. And Rowley, in the c'ornedy of A Match at Midnight, makes the WeilTiman lay, * Randall will be no ferving-mans now ; hue will
* buy hur prave parrels, pra*ue fwords, prave daggers, and pra<vc
* feathers, and go a- wooing to fra<ve comely pretty maid.' In Phi- lafter, where he fays to Bellario, who is new dreft by Arethufa, ' Why, boy, ftie has made th.ee &ra<v*.9 R.
VOL. If. G When
98 THE CUSTOM OF
When twenty of your modern faces are call'd in, For new opinion, paintings, and corruptions; Give me an old confirm'd face. Befides, fhe fav'd me, She fav'd my life ; have I not caufe to love her ? She's rich, and of a conftant ftate, a fair one, Have I not caufe to woo her ? I have tried fufficient All your young fillies, I think, this back has try'd 'em, And fmarted for it too: They run away with me, Take bit between the teeth, and play the devils ; A ftay'd pace now becomes my years, a fure one,, Where I may fit and crack no girths.
Dua. How miferable,
If my mother {hould confirm what I fufpect now, Beyond all human cure, were my condition ! Then I lhall wifli this body had been fo too. Here comes the lady, Sir.
Enter Guiomar.
Rut. Excellent lady,
To fhew I am a creature bound to your fervice, And onlv yours
Gui. Keep at that diilance, Sir ; For if you ftir
Rut. I am obedient.
She has found already, I am for her turn: With what a greedy hawk's eye fhe beholds me ? Mark, how flie mutters all my parts.
Gui. A goodly gentleman, Of a more manly let I never look'd on.
Rut. Mark, mark her eyes ftill ; mark but the car riage of 'em !
Gui. How happy am I now, fmce my fon fell, He fell not by a bafe unnoble hand; As that ftill troubled me ? How far more happy Shall my revenge be, fmce the facrifice I offer to his grave, fhali be both worthy A fon's untimely lofs, and a mother's forrow ?
Rut. Sir, I am made, believe it; (he is mine own; I told you what a fpell I carried with me. All this time does ihe fpend in contemplation
Of
THE COUNTRY. 99
Of that unmatched delight — Ifhall be thankful to you * And if you pleafe to know my houfe, to ufe itj
To take it for your own
Gui. Who Waits without there ?
Enter Guard and Servants ; theyfeize upon Rutilic, and bind him.
Rut. How how? what means this, lady ?
Gui. Bind him faft.
Rut. Are thefe the bride-laces you prepare for rile ? The colours that you give ?
Dua. Fy, gentle lady \ This is not noble dealing*
GUI. Be you fatisfted ;
Jt feems you are a ftranger to this meaning 5 You Ihall not be fo long.
Rut. Do you call this wooing ? x Is there no end of womens' perfect tioris ? Muft I needs fool into mine own d'eftriictioh " ? Have I not had fair warnings, and enough ttjo ? Still pick the devil's teeth ? You are not mad$ lady? po I come fairly, and like a gentleman^ To offer you that honour
Gui. You are deceiv'd, Sir \ You come befotted, to your own deftnicfibB ; J fent not for ycu. What honour can you add to me, That brake that ftafF of hortour rny age leaned on ? That robb'd me of that ri^ht made me a mother ?
j O
Hear me, thou wretched man, hear me with terror, And let thine own bold folly fhake thy foul ! Hear me pronounce thy death, that n'ow hangs o'er thee,
55 Miift 1 needs fool iuio my own dejlruttion ?] I ihinR Verily, we ought to read,
Muft I needs fob! it, to, &'c. It appears to me much the more natural expreflioft. SewarA.
Mr. Sewavd's reading may be more yqtural, in &:< idfa ; but we think that of the old copies fo exprtiTive; that any variation would .
G i Thou
ioo THE CUSTOM OF
Thou defperate fool ! Who bad thee feek this ruin ?
What mad unmanly fate made thee difcover
Thy curfed face to me again ? Was't not enough
To have the fair protection of my houfe,
When mifery and juftice clofe purfued thee ?
When thine own bloody fword cried out againfl thee^
Hatch'd in the life of him s6 ? Yet I forgave thee.
My hofpi table word, even when I faw
The goodlieft branch of all my blood lopp'd from me,
Did I not feal ftill to thee ?
Rut. I am gone.
Gui. And when thou went'ft, to imp thy mifery, Did I not give thee means 57? But hark, .ungrateful ! Was it not thus, to hide thy face and fly me ? To keep thy name for ever from my memory ? Thy curfed blood and kindred ? Did I not fwear then, If ever (in this wretched life thou haft left me, Short and unfortunate) I faw thee again, Or came but to the knowledge where thou wandredft, To call my vow back, and purfue with vengeance, With all the miferies a mother fuffers ?
Rut. I was born to be hang'd; there's no avoiding it.
Gut. And dar'ft thou with this impudence appear
here ?
Walk like the winding fhect my fon was put in, Stain'd with thofe wounds 53 !
t)ua. 1 am happy now again ! Happy th6 hour I fell, to find a mother, So pious, good, and excellent in forrows !
5^ Hatch'd in the life of him? \ Hatch'd, among cutlers, is ufed to~ mean when ihe hilts of a fword are^;7r : So (he would fay that Rutilio's bloody fword was hatch* d or gilt in thfe life of her fon DiKirte.
'Theobald.
57 to Jrnp toy mifery,
Did I not gi<ve thee means ?~\ /. e. Did I not furnifh thee \vith money, to ajfijl thy flight ? It is a term in falconry ; to imp is faid, when a frcfli leather oi a hawk is put to an old broken Hump.
Theobald.
r<? Stand ivitb thofe nvonrids /] Thus fp.y all the editions. We ventured to'fublUtute//tf/*Vfor/<W.
tnief
THE COUNTRY. io?>
Enter a Servant.
$er. The governor's come in.
Gut. Oh, let him enter.
Rut. I have fool'd myfelf a fair thread ! Of all my
fortunes,
This ftrikes me moft ; not that I fear to perifh, But that this unmannerly boldnefs has brought me to it.
Enter Governor, Clodlo^ and Charino*
Gov. Are thefe fit preparations for a wedding, lady ? I came prepar'd a gueft.
Gut. Oh, give me juflice! As ever you will leave a virtuous name, PO juflice, juflice, Sir !
Gov. You need not afk it ; I am bound to it.
Gui. Juflice upon this man, that kill'd my fon !
Gov. Do you confefs the aft ?
Rut. Yes, Sir.
Clod. Rutiliof
Cba. 'Tis the fame.
Clod. How fell he thus ? Here will be forrow for the good Arnoldo !
Gov. Take heed, Sir, what you fay.
Rut. I have weigh'd it well -3 I am the man ! Nor is it life I ftart at; Only I am unhappy I am poor; Poor in expence of lives ; there I am wretched, That I've not two lives lent me for this facrifice59; One for her fon, another for her forrow ! Excellent lady, now rejoice again ; For though I cannot think you're pleas'd in blood, "Nor with that greedy tru'rfl purfue your vengeance ; - (The tendernefs, even in thofe tears, denies that) Yet let the world believe, you lov'd Duarte !
J9 That I have not t-wo lives lent me for his facrifce ;] For vu&ofe facrifice? Not for Ouarte's ; that the beginning of the fubfcqueni: vcrfe contradicts. To make any fenfe, we mult read, this.
SympfaK.
G ? The
io2 THE CUSTOM OF
The unmatch'd courtefies you have done my miferies, Without this forfeit to the law, would charge me To tender you this life, and proud 'twould pleafe you.
Gui. Shall I have juftice?
Gov. Yes.
Rut. I'll afk it for you ; I'll follow it myfelf, againft myfelf. Sir, 'tis mofl fit I die; difpatch it quickly: The moriftrous burden of that grief fhe labours witfy Will kill her elfe ; then blood on blood lies on me ! Had I a thoufand lives, I'd give 'ern all, Ikfore I'd draw one tear more from that virtue.
Gui. Be not too cruel, Sir — and yet his bold iword — But his life cannot reflore that — he's a man too Of a fair promife— but, alas ! my fon's dead ! — Jfl have juftice, muft it kill him ?
Gov. Yes.
Gui. If I have not, it kills me ; flrong and goodly ! Why fbould he perifli too ?
Gov. It lies in your pow'r i You only may accufe him, or may quit him.
Clod-. Be there no other witnelTes ?
Cut. Not any.
And, if I fave him, will not the world proclaim, I have forgot a fon, to fave a murderer? And yet he looks not like one ; he looks manly.
Clcd. Pity, fo brave a gentleman Ihould perifh ! §he cannot be fo hard, fo cruel-hearted
Gui'. Will you pronounce ? — Yet, Hay a little, Sir,.
Rut. Rid yourfelf, lady, of this mifery, And let me go : I do but breed more tempefls, With which you are already too much fhaken. '
Gui. Do, now pronounce ! I will not hear.
Dua. You iliall not ! \I)if cover ing himjelf.
Yet turn and fee, good madam.
Gov. Dp not wonder :
'Tis he/ reftor'd again, thank the good doftpr. Pray, do net ftand amaz'd; it is Duarte, He's well, is iafe again.
Gui.
THE COUNTRY. 103
Gut. Oh, my fweet fon !
I will not prefs my wonder now with queftions. Sir, I am forry for that cruelty I urg'd again ft you.
Rut. Madam, it was but juftice.
Dua. 'Tis true, the doctor heal'd this body again i But this man heal'd my foul, made my mind perfect: The good fharp leffons his fword read to me, fav'd me; For which, if you lov'd me, dear mother, Honour and love this man.
Gui. You lent this letter ?
Rut. My boldnefs makes me blufh now.
Gui. I'll wipe off that ;
And, with this kifs, 1 take you for my hufband. Your wooing's done, Sir-, I believe you love me? And that's the wealth I look for now.
Rut. You have it.
Dua. You have ended my defire to all my wifhes.
Gcv. Now 'tis a wedding again. And if Hippolyta Make good, what with the hazard of her life She undertook, the evening will fct clear, After a ftormy day.
Enter Hippclyta, and Leopold hading Arnoldc, and Zenocia, with Zabulon> and Sutyitia.
Char. Here comes the lady.
Clod. With fair Zenocia, health with life again Rtftor'd unto her.
Zen. The gift of her goodnefs.
Rut. Let us embrace-, I am of your order too, And though 1 once defpair'd of women, now J find they relifh much of fcorpions -3 For both have flings, and both can hurt, and cure too. But what have been your fortunes ?
Am. We'll defer
Our ftory, and, at time more fit, relate it. Now all that reverence virtue, and in that Zenocia's conitancy and perfect love, Or for her fake Arnpldo's, join with us
64 In
104 THE CUSTOM OF
In th' honour of this lady,
Cbar. She defcrves it.
Hip. Hippoly ta's life fhall make that good hereafter ; Nor will I alone better myfelf, but others j For thefe, whole wants, perhaps, have made their actions Not altogether innocent60, fhall from me Be fo fupplied, that need mail not compel them To any courfe of life, but what the law -*-"V Shall give allowance to.
Zab. and Snip. Your ladyfhip's creatures.
Rut. Be fo, and no more, you man-huckfter !
Hip. And, worthy Leopold., you that with fuch
fervour
So long have fought me, and in that deferv'd me, Shall now find full reward for all your travels, Which you have made more dear by patient fufferance. And though my violent dotage did traniport me Beyond thole bounds my modefty mould have kept in, Though my defires were loofe, from unchafle act, Heav'n knows, I am free61.
Leop. The thought of that's dead to me ^ I gladly take your offer.
Rut. Do fo', Sir-,
60 For tkefe, *vjhofe wants, perhaps, ba<ve made their atflons Not altogether inr.ocent , &c. ] Hippolyra had obligations to the
agency both of Zabulon and Suipitia ; and me fhexvs a fort of ro mantic generofity in requiting their fervices ; but. indeed, in poeti cal juftice, they both ought to have been punifVd : Zabulon was ^ f-oundrel pimp to'a bawdy-houfe; and Suipitia was not only a noto- jious bawd, but a dealer in magic an;d'a poifoner. Theobald.
Mr. Theobald, we apprehend, has miilaken the Poets here: Hip- pulyta do'es not- mean to give Zabulon and Suipitia a reward^ inltead of a punifhment, for their mafoerfaijon ; ihe means to « better' the community at large, by placing thefe vile instruments in fuch a ftate, as that * need {hall not compel them to any courfe of life, bat what ' the law fhall give allowance to,' It mult be oonfefied, however, that all this MAOICAL efifade is both unpleafmg and improbable. Hippoiyta's c^aracler, too, is almcft too vicious even for reformation fuffi.-ient to recommend her to the favour of the audience.
6 1 —from unchafte art.
^ Hta'v'n knonus, I am free."} The Editors of 1750 concur in altering, -we think properly, art to aft. '- • «
A piece
*. -'•' *
T H E C O U N T R Y. 105
A piece of crack'd gold ever will weigh down Silver that's whole.
Gov. Y.ou {hall be all my gueils , I mull nbt be deny'd.
Am. Come, my Zenocia, Our bark at length has found a quiet harbour; And the unfpotted progrefs of our loves Ends not alone in fafety, but reward ; To inilrucl others, by our fair example, That, though good purpofes are long v/ith flood, The hand of fieay'n ftljl guides fuch as are good. '
. r, . \Exeiint Gmne$.
T FIE
THE EPILOGUE.
WH Y there mould be an Epilogue to a play, I know no caufe. The old and ufnal way, For which they were made, was t* entreat the grace Of fuch as were Ipectators : In this place, And time, 'tis to no purpofe ; for, 1 know, \Vhat you refolve already to beftow "Will not be altered, whatfoe'er I fay In the behalf of us, and of the Play ; Only to quit our doubts, if you think fit, You may or cry it up or filence it.
ANOTHER EPILOGUE.
1 SPAKE much in the Prologue for the Play, To its defert, I hope -, yet you might fay, Should I change now from that, which then was meant, Or in a fyllable grow lefs confident, I were weak-hearted : I am ftill the fame In my opinion, and forbear to frame Qualification, or excufe. If you Concur with me, and hold my judgment true, Shew it with any fign, and from this place, Or fend me off exploded, or with grace.
THE
THE
£LDER BRpTHER
'
. .
A COMEDY.
be Commendatory Verfes by Hills fpeak of Fletcher as file Author of this Comedy ; and fome of the old quartos have his name only in the tit/f, nubile others have Beaumont's alfo. The Prologue, and the Epilogue, aftribe it totally to Fletcher. The fir ft copy -we have ft en was printed in 1637; 'which <we apprehend Mr. Theobald was not pojftjfedof, as he /peaks of an edition of 1640 as the oldeft. We have heard of one bearing date 1629 ; but have not feen it, nor that of 1 640 ; and that which is datid 165 1 , it /aid in the title to be l the fecond edition? Colley Cibber, as has been men tioned in our account of the Cuftom of the Country t has introduced parts of this Play into his Comedy of Love makes a Mant or the Fop" t Fortune.
THE PROLOGUE,
U T that it would take from our modefty, To praife the Writer, or the Comedy, Till your fair fuffrage crown it; I fhould fay, You're all moft welcome to no vulgar Play j And fo far we are confident. And if he That made it Hill live in your memory -, You will expect what we preient to-night Should be judg'd worthy of your ears and fight : You fhall hear Fletcher iri it ; his true {train, And neat expreffions. Living, he did gain Your good opinions -, but, now dead, commends This orphan to the care of noble friends * : And may it raife in you content and mirth, And be receiv'd for a legitimate birth I
Your grace erects new trophies to his fame, And Ihall to after-times preferve his name.
1 -But, now dead, commends
This orphan to the care of nolle friendf.~\ By this pafTage it ihould Teem, the Elder Brother was not given to the itage till after Fletcher's demife ; a circumftancc on which it is impbffible for us to decide. All the information we can give is, that this prologue is printed to the edition of 1637; and, if the play nuas publlfhed iri' 1629, that was not cill four years after Fletcher died*
DRAMATIS
DRAMATIS PERSONA
MEN. LewiSi a lord: Miramontj a gentleman; Brifac, ajufticet brother to Miramont^
Charles, afcholar-i
+. n . \ Tons to Brifac.
Euftace, a courtier J
Egremont; -, . ; \ ±
\ two courtier s$ friends to Em ate* ± Cowfy, J
Andrew, fervant to Charles.
Gook, -j
I Servants to Brt/at. Butler, Jy
Pried. Notary. Servants.- Officers*
WOMEN.
Angellina, daughter to Lewis. Sylvia, her woman. Lilly, wife to Andrew. Ladies.
* Friends to Euflace.'] This is the reading of all the copies pno# to 1750 ; when Mr. Theobald chofe to fubilitute dependants on Eu- ilace j which may, perhaps, be more characterise of the perrons : But an arbitrary variation ihould at leail be mentioned.
LECTORI.
Wouklft thou all wit, all comick art furvey? Read here and wonder -, Fletcher writ the play.
THE
THE
'
ELDER BROTHER
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Lewis, Angellina, and Sylvia. Lewis. "TV TAY, I muft walk you further,
^^j Ang. I am tir'd, Sir, -L ^1 And ne'erjhall foot it home.
Lew. ' lis for your health ; The want of exercife takes from your beauties, And (loth dries up your fweetnefs. That you arc My only daughter, and my heir, is granted; And you in thankfulnefs muft needs acknowledge You ever find me an indulgent father, And open-handed.
Ang. Nor can you tax mCj Sir, I hope, for want of duty to dtferve Thefe favours from you.
Lew. No, my Angellina, I love and chefifh thy obedience to me, Which my care to advance thee fhall confirm. All that I aim at is, to win thee from The practice of an idle foolifh ftate, Us'd by great women, who think any labour (Though in the fervice of themfelves) a blcmifh To their fait fortunes,
Ang*
iia THE ELDER BROTHER.
An*. Make me underitand, Sir, What 'tis yon point at.
Lew. At the cuflom, how Virgins of weal'thy families wafte their youth: After a long deep, when you wake, your woman Prefects your breakfaft, then you fleep again, Then rife, and being trimm'd up by others' hands, You're led to dinner, and that ended, either To cards or to your couch (as if you were Borne without motion), after this to fupper, And then to-bed : And fo your life runs round Without variety, or a&ion, daughter.
Syl. Here's a learn 'd lecture !
Lew. From this idlenefs, Difeafes, both of body and of mind, Grow ftrong upon you ; where a ftirring nature, With wholefome exercife, guards both from danger. I'd have thee rife wi' th' fun, walk, dance, or hunty Vifit the groves and fprings, and learn the virtues Of plants and firnples : Do this moderately, And thou fhalt not, with eating chalk, or Coals,- Leather and oatmeal, and fuch other trafh, Fall into the green-ficknefs.
Syl. With your pardon,
(Were you but pleas'd to minifler it) I could Prefcribe a remedy for my lady's health, And her delight too, far tranfcending thofe Your lordfnip but now mention'd.
Lew. What is it, Sylvia?
Syl. What is't ,p a noble hufband : In that wordy c A noble hufoand,' nil content of women Is wholly comprehended. He will roiife her, As you fay, with the fun; and fo pipe to her,- As fhe will dance, ne'er doubt it ; and hunt with licr, Upon occafion, until both be weary j And then the knowledge of your plants and fimfles, As I take it, were fuperfluous. A loving, And but add to it, a gamcfome becfellow, Ft-ing tlie fure phyfician !
Lew.
THE ELDER BROTHER. 113
Lew. Well faid, wench.
Ang. And who gave you commiiTion to deliver Your verdict, minion ?
SyL I deiVrve a fee4
And not a frown, dear madam. I but fpeak Her thoughts, my lord, and what her modeily Refutes to e,ive voice to. Shew no mercy To a maidenhead of fourteen, but off with 't. Let her. lofe no time, Sir : Fathers that deny Their daughters lawful pleafures, when ripe for them, In fome kind edge their appetites to tafte of The fruit thit is forbidden.
Lew. 'Tis well urg'd,
And I approve it. No more blufliing, girl ; Thy woman hath fpoke truth, and fo prevented What I meant to move to thee; There dwells near us A gentleman of blood, monfieur Brifac^ Of a Fair (late, fix thdufand crowns f'er annum ^ The' happy father of two hopeful fons, Of different breeding ; the eider, a mere icholar, The younger, a quaint courtier.
Ang. Sir^ I know them
By public fame, though yet I never faw them j Arid that oppos'd antipathy between Their various difpofitioris, renders them The general difcourie and argument •, One part inclining to the Icholar Charles^ The other fide preferring Euflace, as A man complete in courtfhip,
Lew. And which way
(If of thefe two you were to chufe a hufband) Doth your affeclion fway you ?
Ang. To be plain, Sir,
(Since you will teach me boldnefs) as they are, Simply themfelves, to neither. Let a courtier Be never fo exact, let him be blefs'd with All parts that yield him to a virgin gracious, If he depend on others, and ftand not On his own bottoms, though he have the means
VOL. II. H To
U4 THE ELDER BROTHER.
To bring his miftrefs to a mafque, or, by
Conveyance from ibme great one's lips, to tafte
Such favour from the king's •, or, grant he purchafc
Precedency in the country, to be Iworn
A fervant-extraordinary to the queen •,
Nay, though he live in expectation of
Some huge preferment in reverfion -, if
He want a prefent fortune, at the beft
Thofe are but glorious dreams, and only yield him
A happinefs inpoffe, not in ejfe.
Nor can they fetch him filks from thj mercer; nor
Diicharge a taylor's bill, nor in full plenty,
Which ftill preferves a quiet bed at home,
Maintain a family.
Lew. Aptly confider'd, And to my wilh. But what's thy cenfure of The fcholar ?
Ang. Troth, if he be nothing elfe, As of the courtier : All his longs, and fonnets, His anagrams, acrofticks, epigrams, His deep and philolophical difcourfe Of nature's hidden fecrets, make not up A perfect hufband. He can hardly borrow The ftars of the celeftial crown to make me A tire for my head •, nor Charles's wane for a coach, Nor Ganymede for a page, nor a rich gown From Juno's wardrobe -, nor would I lye- in, For I defpair not once to be a mother, Under HeavVs fpangled canopy, or banquet My guefts and goffips with imagin'd nectar-, Pure Orleans would do better. No, no, father, Though I could be well pleas'd to have my hufband A courtier, and a fcholar, young, and valiant, Thefe are but gaudy nothings, if there be not Something to make up a fubitance.
Lew. And what's that ?
Ang< A full cftace ; and, that faid, I've faid all : And, get mefuchaone, with thefe additions, Farewell, virginity ! and welcome, wedlock !
Lem
THE ELDER BROTHER. itj
Lew. Buc where is fueh one to be met withj
daughter ?
A black fwan is mdre common * j you may wear Grey trefTes ere we find him;
Ang. I am not
So punctual in all ceremonies \ \ will bate Two or three of tilde good parts, before I'll dwelt Too long upon the choice;
SyL Only, my lord, remember That he be rich and active; for, without thefej The others yield no relifli : But} theie perfe&j 4 You mult bear with frriall faults, madam;
Lew. Merry wench ; And it becomes you well ! I'll to Brifaq And try what may be dene. Fth* mean tim^ home* And feaft thy thoughts with thl pleafures of a bride.
Syl. Thoughts arc but airy food. Sir; let her talle them; [Extuni fever ally.
S C E N fe II;
Enter Andrew^ Cooky dnd Butler.
And. Unload part of the library, and make rodni For th* other dozen of carts \ I'll itraic be with you;
Cook. Why, hath he more books ?
And. More than ten marcs lend over;
But. And can lie tell their names ?
And. Their names ! he has Jenl As perfect as his Pater Nofter\ but that's nothing; H'has read them over, leaf by leaf, three thouland
times;
But here's the wonder ; tho* their weight would link ,A Spanilh carrack4^ without other ballaftj
' A black fuuari is ititr'c common.] The Poets feeul herd to have had an eye to this Latin hexanieier.
Raia avis in tfcrhs, tiigro/lite (imillima tygno.
* ASp'aniJb cirrafck. j A cafratt is a fliip of great btilk, It 2
li6 THE ELDER BROTHER.
He carrieth them all in his head, and ye: He walks upright.
But. Surely he has a ftrong brain.
And. If all thy pipes of wine were fill'd with books^ Made of the barks of trees, or my (fries writ in Old moth-eaten vellum, he would fip thy cellar Quite dry, and ftill be thirfly. Then, for's diet, He eats and digefts more volumes at a meal, Than there Would be rarka (tho'the (Icy fliould fall) Devour'd in a month in Paris : Yet fear not, Sons o* th5 buttery and kitchen \ tho' his learn'd fto-
mach
Cannot be appeas'd, he'll feldom trouble you ; His knowing flomach contemns your black-jacks'^
Butler, And your flagons; and, Cook, thy boil'd, thy roafl.,
thy bak'd! - Cook. How liveth he ?
And. Not as other men do ; Few princes fare like, him : He breaks his fall With Ariftotle," dines with Tally, takes His watering- with the mules, iups with Livy, Then walks a turn or two in Via Laffed 5. And, after fix hours' conference with the ftars,- Sleeps with old Err a Pater.
But. This is admirable.
And. I'll tell you more hereafter. Here's my olcf
m after, And another old ignorant elder; I'll upon 'em.
commonly of great value ; perhaps what we now call a galleon. So Shakeipeare j
* Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land ca'rrack :
' If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever.' Olbel'o, afl i. And in the Coxcomb, by our Authors,
' ' they'll be freighted ;
« They're made like carra:ks, all-for flrcngth and flovvage.' R. 5 He breaks bis faft, &c.] This paffage feems ro have been before Mr. Con^reve, when he wrote the beginning of his plav of J.ovd for Lo^e. j^
Enter
THE ELDER BROTHER. 117
Enter "Brijac and Lewis*
£n.What, Andrew? welcome ! where's my Charles?
fpeak, Andrew; Where didft thou leave thy mailer ?
And. Contemplating The number of the fands in the highway; And, from that, purpofes to make a judgment Of the remainder in the fea. He is, Sir, In ferious ftudy, and will lofe no minute, Nor out of's pace to knowledge6.
Lew. This is ilrange.
And. Yet he hath fent his duty, Sir, before him Jn this fair manufcript.
Bri. What have we here ? Pot-hooks and andirons !
And. I much pity you ! Jt is the Syrian character, or the Arabic. Would you have it faid, fo great and deep a fcholar As mafler Charles is, fhould afk bl effing In any Chriflian language ? Were it Greek, I could interpret for you ; but, indeed, I'm gone no further.
Bri. And in Greek you can Lie with your fmug wife Lilly 7 ?
6 and will lofe no minute,
Nor out of's pace to knowledge .] We do not thoroughly com prehend this pafTige, but fufpecl a corruption. Perhaps the Author \vrpte,
and will lofe no minute ',
Nor ought of fpace to kno-tv'hdge ;
the meaning of which is clear. Time and fpace are no uncommon affociation. '
7 — ~— £ndin Greek you can
Liz .i^itb your fmug 'wife Lilly ] Brifac is here flrangely ojt of character. He is reprefented as an olu llupid juliice of the peace, one of no polite literature, and read only in the old ibmites, and in them no better learned than his clerk : Yet here, 'tis maniieft, he is making an allufinn to a pafTage in Juvenal's Satires.
Hoc cunfla cffundunt animi Jecreta. Quid ultra? Concumbunt Graece. Theobald.
Mr. Theobald complain*, that the country juftice is here out of character, as he fuppofcj him to refer to Juvenal's Coucumbunt Gr<rcs.
H 3 ' Bat,
THE ELDER BROTHER,
And. If I keep her
From your French dialect (as I hope I fhall, Sir, Howe'er fhe isyonr laundrefs) fhe (hall put you To the charge of no more fope than ufual For th' wafhing of your iheets.
Bri. Take in the knave, And let him eat,
And. And drink too, Sir ? Bri. And drink too, Sir : And fee your mailer's chamber ready for him.
But. Come, doctor Andrew, without deputation, Thou fhalt cornmence i'th* cellar.
And. I had rather Cornmencp on a cold bak'd meat.
Cook. Thou fhalt ha't, boy. [Exeunt.
En. Good monfieur Lewis, I efteem myfelf Much honour'd in your clear intent to join Our antient families, and rnake them one; And -twill take from my age and cares, to live And fee what you have purpos'd put in aftj Qf which your vifit a,r. this prefent is A hopeful omen ; I each minute expecting Th' arrival of my fons. I have not wrong'd Their birth for want of means and education, To fhape them, to that courfe each was addicted $ And therefore, that wp may proceed difcreetly^ Since what's concluded rafhly feldom profpers, You firft fhall take aftrict perufal of them. And then, from your allowance, your fair daughter May fafhion her affection. Lew. Monfieur Brifac^ You offer fair ancl nobly> and I'll meet you Iri the fame line of honour ; and, I hope, Being blefs'd but with one daughter, I fhall not
But fuppofing the Author took his hint from hence, he does npt make the cpuntry juftice refer to it. But Mr. Theobald does not feem to have obferved the equivocation of the uord Littj, which re* fers to^he old grammarian, as Andrew fays after, To bring me baik Jrofn my grammar to my horn-book! 'This is an allufion furely within ' 'the ccmpafs of a country fquire, and therefore quite in chjrafter.
Steward.
Appear
THE ELDER BROTHER. 1-19
Appear impertinently curious,
Though, with my utmoft vigilance and ftudy,
I labour to beftow her to her worth.
Let others fpeak her form, and future fortune
From me defcending to her j I in that
Sit down with filence.
Bri. You may, my lord, fecurely ; Since fame aloud proclaimeth her perfections, Commanding all mens tongues to fing her praifes. Should I fay more, you well might cenfure me (What yet I never was) a flatterer. What trampling's that without of horfes ?
Enter Butler.
But. Sir, my young matters are newly alighted. Bri. Sir, now obferve their feveral difpofitions*
Enter Charles.
Char. Bid my fubfifer carry my hackney to The butt'ry, and give him his bever; it is a civil And fober bead, and will drink moderately; And, that done, turn him into the quadrangle.
Bri. He cannot our of his uniyerfity tone.
Enter Euft ate ^ Egremont, and Cowjy.
Euft. Lackey, take care our courfers be well rubb'd And cloath'd; they have outftripp'd the wind in fpeed.
Lew. Ay, marry, Sir, there's metal in this young
fellow ! What a fheep's look his Elder Brother has !
Char. Your blefling, Sir !
Bri. Rife, Charles -, thou haft it.
Euft. Sir, though it be unufual in the court, (Since 'tis the country's garb) I bend my knee, And do expect what follows.
Bri. Courtly beg'd. My blefling ! take it.
Euft. (to Lew'.) Ypurlordfhip's vow'd adorer. What a thing this brother is ! Yet I'll vouchfafe him The new Italian fhrug. How clowniftily
The
THE ELDER BROTHER.
The book-worm does return u.
Char. I am glad you're well. [Reads.
Euft. Prny you be happy in the knowledge of This pair of acoompliih'd monfieurs : They are gallants that have feen both Tropicks.
Bri. I embrace their loves.
Egre. Which we'll repay with fervnlating*.
Cow. And will report your-bounty in the court.
Bri. I pray you, make deferving u»e on't firit. Euftace, give entertainment to your friends ; What's In my houfe is theirs.
Euft. Which we'll make life of: Let's warm our brains with half-a-dozen healths, And then, hang cold difcourfe -, for we'll fpeak fire works. [Exeunt.
Lew. What, at his book already ?
Bri. Fy, fy, Charles, .No hour of interruption ?
Char. Plato differs from Socrates in this,
Bri. Come, lay them by 5 ^Let them agree at leifure.
Char. Man's life, Sir, being So fhorfc9, and -them the way that leads unto The knowledge of ourfelves, fo long and tedious, Each minute fhould be precious.
Bri. In our care
To manage worldly bufmefs, you muft part with This bookifh contemplation, and prepare Yourfelf for action •, to thrive in this age, Is held1 the palm of learning. You muft iludy To know what part of my land's good for th' plough,
8 Which we'll repay with fervulating.] This -is 'the reading of 1637. The edition of 1651, and all 'he fubfequent, fay, with fer- •vice\ Th£'vold reading is probably right, and meant to ridicule thd conceit and afie&ttiqh of Euftaccjs travelled companions.
9 'Mat^s life. 'Sir, leinv
So fhort, C5*c.] Charles is here immediately fhevving his learn ing ; for if I'aaiTjot very much miltaken, the Poets have given him this fentiment from the full Aphorifm of Hippocrates, "o @ice |
'Ibeobaid.
And
THE ELDER BROTHER.
And what for pafture ; how to buy and fell
To the belt advantage ; how to cure my oxen 10
When they're o'ergone with labour.
Char. I may do this
From what I've read, Sir. For what concerns tillage, Who better can deliver it than Virgil In his Georgicks ? and to cure your herds,' His Bucolicks is a matter-piece 1J, But when He does defcribe the/common wealth of bees. Their induftry, and knowledge of the herbs From which they gather honey, with their care To place it with decorum in the hive, Their government among themfelves, their order In going forth and coming loaden home, Their obedience to their king, and his rewards To fuch as labour, with his punifnrnents IZ pnly inflicted on the flothful drone ; I'm raviih'd with it, and there reap my harveil, And there receive the gain my cattle bring me, And there find wax and honey,
Bri. And grow rich
Jn your imagination. Heyday, heyday ! Georgicks, and Bucolicks, and bees ! Art mad ?
Char. Mo, Sir, the knowledge of thefe guards me from it.
Bri. But canyOu find among your bundle of books, And put in all yourdictionaries that fpeak all tongues, What pleafures they enjoy, that do embrace
10 . -. ho:w tq curs my oxen,
When they1 re o'ergrown with labour. "] Overgrown, we think with the editors of 17 50, is erroneous.' Thole gentlemen read <?>er- done ; but as o"eroone, which conveys the fame meaning, is nearer the trace of the old letteis, we have chofe to adopt that woid.
1 * And to cure your herds
His Bucolicks is a mafler- piece.] Thj.s miftake, of mentioning thofe fubjedts, as occurring in the Bucolicks, which are treated of irj the Georgicks, is noticed by Mr. Sympfon.
»* . with his punijkments
Only infiitiid on ilia Jlothful drone.] ' Ignavum fucos pecul 3 'frayfyiKu arcent, fays Virgil, Iheohald.
A well-
THE ELDER BROTHER.
A well-fhap'd wealthy bride ? Anfwer me that.
Char. 'Tis frequent. Sir, in (lory : There I read of All kind of virtuous and vicious women, The aRtient Spartan dames and Roman ladies, Their beauties and deformities. And when I light upon a Portia or Cornelia, Crowned with flill-flourifhing leaves of truth and
goodnefs,
With fuch a feeling I perufe their fortunes, As if I then had liv'd, and freely tafted Their rayifhingfweetnefs. ; at the prefent, loving The whole fex for their goodnefs and example. But, on the contrary, when J look on A Clytemnefhra or a Tullia,
The firft faath'd in her hufband's blood ; the latter, Without a touch of piety, driving on Her chariot o'er her father's breathjefs tnjnk3 Horror invades my faculties; and comparing The multitudes o' th' guilty, with the few That did die innocents, I deteft and loath 'era* As ignorance or atheifm.
Eri. You refolve then, Ne'er to make payment of the debt ypu owe me ?
Char. What debt, good Sir ?
Bri. A debt I paid my father When I begat thee, and made him a. grandiire j Which ! expect from you.
Char. The children, Sir, Which I will leave to all pofterity. Begot and brought up by my painful ftudjes, Shall be my living ifTue.
Eri. Very well ; and I ftall have a general colleclio^ Of all the quidditsJi from Adam to this time To be my grandchild.
Char. And fuch a one, I hope, Sir3
IJ All the quiddits.^ Subtitties or equivocations- The word oc curs in Shakefpearc's Hamlet: * Why may not that be the lku'1 of « a lawyer ? Where be his quiddits now, his quillets, his cafe:, and his < tricks r* R.
As
THE ELDER BROTHER.
As fhall not fhame the family.
Bri. Nor will you take care of my eftate ?
Char. But in my wifhes ;
For know, Sir, that the wings on which my foul Is mounted, have long fince borne her too high To floop to any prey that foars not upwards. Sordid and dunghill minds, compos'd of earth, In that grofs element fix all their happinefs j But purer fpirits, purg'd and refin'd, fhake off That clog of human frailty. Give me leave T' enjoy myfelf j that place that does contain My books, the beft companions, is to me A glorious court, where hourly I converfe With the old fages and philofophers ; And fometimes, for variety, I confer With kings and emperors, and weigh their counfels; Calling their victories, if unjuftly got, Unto a ftri6t account, and, in my fancy, Deface their ill-plac'd ftatues. Can I then Part with fuch conftant pleafures, to embrace Uncertain vanities ? No ; be it your care T'augment your heap of wealth ; it fhall be mine T'encreafe in knowledge. Lights there, for my fludy !
[Exit.
En. Was ever man, that had reafon, thus tranfported From all fenfe and feeling of his proper goocL? It vexes me j and if I found not comfort In my young Euftace, 1 might well conclude My name were at a period \
Lew. He's indeed, Sir, The furer bafe to build on,
Enter Euftace, Egrernqnt^ Cowfy, find Andrew* Bri. Euftace! Euft. Sir.
Bri. Your ear in private, And. I fufpecl: my mafter Has found harlh welcome ; he's gone fupperlels Into his ftudy. Could I find out the caufe,
It
i24 THE ELDER BROTHER.
It may be borrowing of his books, or fo, I fhall be fatisfted.
Euft. My duty fhall, Sir,
Take any form you pleafe ; and, in your motion, To have me married, you cut off all dangers The violent heats of youth might bear me to.
Lew. It is well anfwer'd.
E,uft. Nor fhall you, my lord, Nor your fair daughter, ever find juft caufe To mourn your choice of me. The name of hufbanda Nor the authority it carries in it, Shall ever teach me to forget to be, AJS I am now, her fervant, and your lordfhip's: And, but that modeity forbids that I Should found the trumpet of my own deferts, I could fay, my choice manners have been inch, As render me lov'd and remarkable To the princes of the blood.
Cow. Nay, to the king.
Egre. Nay, to the king and council.
And. Thefe are court-admirers, Arid ever echo him that bears the bag : Though I be dull-ey'd, I fee through this juggling.
Euft. Then for my hopes— —
Cow. Nay, certainties.
Euft. They {land
As fair as any man's. What can there fall In compafs of her wifhes, which fhe {hall not Be fuddenly poflefs'd of? Loves fhe titles r By- the grace and favour of my princely friends, I am what fhe would have me.
Bri. He fpeaks well^ And I believe 'him.
Lew. I could wifli I did fo.
Pray you a word, Sir. He's a proper gentleman, And promifes nothing but what 'is poffible -, So far I will go with you : Nay, I add, He hath won much upon me ; and, were he
But one thing that his brother is, the bargain
Were
THE ELDER BROf HER. 125
Were {hart ftruck up.
Erl, What's that, my lord?
Lsw. The heir.
And. Which he is not, and, t tmflr, never fhall be.
5r;. Come, that fhall breed no difference. You fee, Charles has giv'n o'er the world ; I'll undertake, And with much eafe, to buy his birthright of him For a dry-fat of new books ; nor fhall my ftate Alone make way for him, but my elder brother's j Who, being ifluelefs, t'advance our name, I douBt not, will add his. Your refolution ?
Lew. I'll firft acquaint my daughter with the pro ceedings :
On thefe terms, I am yours, as fhfc fhall be, Make yon no fcruple j get the writings readyj She fhall be tractable. To-m'orrow we will hold A fecond conference. Farewell, noble Euftace, And you, brave gallants.
Euft. Full encreafe of honour Wait ever on your lordfhip !
And. The gout, rather, and a perpetual megrim !
Bri. You fee, Eufbce, How I travail to poffefs you of a fortune You were not born to. Be you worthy of it: I'll furniih you for a fuitor 3 vifit her; And profper in't.
Euft. She's mine, Sir, fear it not: In all my travels, I ne'er met a virgin That could refill my courtlhip.
Coiv. If this take now,
We're made for ever14, and will revel it! {Exeunt.
And*
•4 ... . ,Jf tbi$ take /.-ow,
We* re made for e<ver.~] Several of the editions old and mo dern continue this to Euitace's fpeech ; others have nonfcnficaMy af- f'gncd it to Biifac. The oideft quarto of all has it thus.
Kuft. If t if is take vonv, &c.
But Enftace was the laft fpeaker, and nobody had interfapted him'; thcvefort 'tis abfurd, that his name fliould be put hcrt ouly becaui'e he
continues
126 THE ELDER BROTHER.
And. In tough Welch parfly, which, in our vulgar"
tongue, is
Strong hempen halters. My poor maftef cozen'dj And I a looker-on ! If we have fludied Our majors, and our minors, antecedents, And confequents, to be concluded coxcombs, We've made a fair hand on't ! I'm glad I've found Out all their plots, and their confpiracies. This (hall t* old moniieur Miramont $ one, that tho* He cannot read a proclamation, Yet dotes on learning, and loves my mafter Charles For being a fcholar. I hear he's coming hither > I fhall meet him j and if he be that old Rough tefty blade he always us'd to be* He'll ring 'em fuch a peal l6 as lhall go near To (hake their bell-room ; peradventure, beat 'erri$ For he is fire and flax; and fo have at him. [Exit.
ACT II. S C E N E I.
Enter Miramont and Brtfac, Mr. "XT AY, brother, brother!
X l| Bri. Pray, Sir, be not mov'd j I meddle with no bufinefs but mine own j
continues to fpeak. It muil certainly be placed to one of his hangerS- on, who hugs himfelf with the thought, that if this match takes place^ they fhall have it in their power to revel it with a vengeance. Theobald. Thefe words might be fpoken by Euflace, but the o'deft quartd marking them as a new fpeech, gives force to Mr. Theobald's con- jedture.
16 /'// ring him fuel a peal.] To ring a peal is a metaphor fo'f fcolding, which Andrew would certainly not ufe : No more than he would beat Brifac and Euftace: It is plain, Miramont was to do both,- we mull read therefore j
Hill ring 'em fuch a peal-
This will reftore both the fenfe and grammar. SewarJ.
And,
THE ELDER BROTHER. 127
Andj in mine own, 'cis reafon I fhould govern.
Mir. But know to govern then, and underitand, Sir, And be as wile as you're hafty. Though you be My brother, and from one biood fprung, I muft tell
you, Heartily and home too — —
En. What, Sir ?
Mir. What I grieve to find * You are a fool, and an old fool, and that's two.
Bri. We'll part 'em, if you pieafe.
Mir. No, they're entail'd to you. Seek to deprive an honeft noble fpirit, Your eldeft fon, Sir, and your very image* (But he's fo like you, that he fares the worfe for't) Becauie he loves his book, and dotes on that, And only ftudies how to know things excellent, Above the reach of fuch coarfe brains as yours, Such muddy fancies, that never will know further Thai} when to cut your vines, and cozen merchants, And choke your hide-bound tenants with muiiy harvefts !
Bri. You go too fafh
Mir. I*m not come to my pace yet. Becauie h' has made his ftudy all his pleafure", And is retir'd into his contemplation, Not meddling with the dirt and chaff of nature, That makes the Ipirit of thr mind mud too, Therefore mult he be flung from his inheritance ? Mud he be difporTHVd, and monfieur Gingle-boy t?f His younger brother t-
Bri. You forget yourfelf.
aftd Moufaur Gingie-boy, '
His younger irotkfr — ] We mult read, jingle 6oy. i. e. A fop^ that ffil ii.vO evety upit^.rt fafliion. It was the cuitoni in the latter part of qiK-rn El'Eabem's reign, and a lib in that of king James the Firft, fo. the men to wear boots ; as we may fee by the piftucs of thoie times, and their fpurs were equipp'd wall a fort of iwlls, or loolt /owtjJaj which jingled whenever they mov'd. *[henbald^
Mr. Theobald's {oiution of this pafTage is a good one j but we fee no caufc why gin»le may not be fpelc with a g.
Mir.
123 THE ELDEI1 B
Mir. Becaufe h' has been at court, and learn'd
tongues,
And how to ipeak a tedious piece of nothing, To vary- his face as feameri do their compais, To worfnip images of gold and filver, And fall before the fhe- calves of the feafon, Therefore mud he jump into his brother's land ?
Eri. Have yon done yet, and have you fpake enough In praife of learning, Sir ?
Mir. Never enough.
Eri. But, brother, do you know what learning is ?
Mir. It is not to be a juflice of peace, as you are. And l3 palter out your time i'th' penal ftatutes ; To hear the curious tenets controverted Between a Proteftant conftable and a Jefuit cobler; To pick natural philolbphy out of bawdry, \Vhen your worfhip's pleas'd to correct ify a lady - Nor 'tis not the main moral of blind juftice, (Which is deep learning) when your worfhip's ferian'ts Bring a light caufe and heavy hens before you, Both fat and feafible, a goofe or pig ; And then you fit, like Equity, with both hands Weighing indifferently the ftate o'th' queftion. Thele are your quodlibets^ but no learning, brother.
Eri. You are ib parlouily in love with learning That I'd be glad to know what you undcrftand, bro ther : I'm fure you have read all Afifcotle.
Mr. Faith, no :
But I believe; I have a learned faith, Sir, And that's it makes a gentleman of my fort. Though I cari fpeak no Greek, I love the found on'tj It goss fo thundering as it conjur'd devils : Charles fpeaks it loftily, and^ if thou wert a man,
18 dttd palter out your tirtie.~] Shakefpeare fays, in his Macbeth^ ' And be thele j^gglmg fier;ds no more belie v'd,
* That^o/CT \vith us in a double fenfe ;
•« That keep the word of prom;fe to our ear,
* And break it to our hope ' />.
Or
THE ELDER BROTHER. 129
Or hadft but ever heard of Homer's Iliads, Hefiod, and the Greek poets, thou wouldft run mad, And hang thyfelf for joy thou'dft fuch a gentleman To be thy fon. Oh, he has read fuch things To me 1
Bri. And you do underftand 'em, brother ? Mir, I tell thee, no; that's not material ; the fbiind's Sufficient to confirm an honcft man. Good brother Brifac, does your young courtier, That wears the fine clothes, and is the excellent gen
tleman,
The traveller, the foldier, as you think too, Underftand any other power than his taylor? Or know what motion is, more than an horfe-race? What the moon means, but to light him home from
taverns ? O>r the comfort of the fun is, but to wear flafli'd
clothes in ?
And muft this piece of ignorance be popped up, Btcaufe 't can kiis the hand, and cry, ' iweet lady ?' Say, it had been at Rome, and feen the relicks, D/unk your Verdea wine '9, and rid at Naples, Brought home a box of Venice treacle with it, To cure young wenches that have earen afhes ; Muft this thing therefore --
Bri. Yes, Sir, this thing muft ! I will not truft my land to one fo fotted, So grown like a difeafe unto his ftudy. He that will fling off all occafions And cares, to make him underftand what ftate lst And how to govern it, muft, by that reafon, Be flung himfelf afide from managing : My younger boy is a fine gentleman.
Mir. He is an afs, a piece of ginger-bread,
T9 DrunJi your Verdea wine.] There is a river in Italy, that through the cerruory of Prsntite, which of old was called Verefis : Tiie more modern geographers tell us that now its name is Verde. I Joubc not, but our Authors allude to the wines made in that neigh* fcy u - hood . Vfoeba/d.
VOL. II. I Gilt
130 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Gilt over to pleafe foolifh girls and puppets.
Bri. You are my elder brother.
Mir. So I had need,
And have an elder wit •, thou'dft fhame us all elfe* Go to !. I fay Charles lhall inherit.
Bri. I fay, no -,
Unlefs Charles had a foul to uhderftarid it; Can he manage fix thoufand crowns a-year Out of the metaphyficks ? or can all His learn'd aftronomy look to my vineyards ? Can the drunken old poets make up my vines ? (I know, they can drink 'em') or your excellent ho*
marfifts
Sell 'em the me re ha n't sv for my b'eft advantage ? Can hiftory cut my hay, or get my corn in ? And can geometry vent it in the market ? Shall I have my meep kept with a Jacob's ftafFnow? <, I wonder you will magnify this mad-man y You that are old and mould underliand;
Mir. Should, fay'ft thou ? Thou monftrous piece of ignorance in office f Thou that haft no more knowledge than thy clerk
infufes,
Thy dapper clerk, larded with' ends of Latin, And he no more than cuftom of his office io < Thou tfnreprievable dunce ! (that thy formal band-*
firings,
Thy ring, nor pomander, cannrot expiate for) Doft thou tell me I fhould ? I'll poze thy worfliip In thine own library, an almanack ;
40 And he no more than ctiftom of offences.] There is great hu mour in this paffage, and 'tis pity that it fhould be hait by fo obfcure an expreffion at the clofe. I can affix no idea to it, but that the jutlice's clerk's whole literature confifts in the forms of commitment for common offences ; and therefore thought that the original might
have been, cuftomary offences : Which conveys tlv's idea. more
clearly than the prefent reading, which is too obfcujie to be genuine. But by as fmall a change of the letters, I have, I thii.k, hit upon a . much clearer one, and which for that reafon is molt likely to have been the original one.
And he no more than cuftom of his office. $e<ward.
Which
THE ELDER BROTHER. 131
\Vhich thou art daily poring orij to pick out
Days of iniquity to cozen fools in,
And full moons to cut cattle ! Doft thou taint me,
That have run over flory, poetry.
Humanity ?
Bri. < As a cold nipping fhadow Does o'er the ears of corn, and leave *em blafted, Put up your anger; what I'll do^ Til do*
Mir. Thou fhalt not do.
Bri. I will:
Mir. Thou art art afs then, A dull old tedious afs •, thou'rt ten times worfe, And of lefs credit, than dunce Hollingfhead The Englifhman, that writes of mows and (heriffs*1*
Enter Lewis.
Bri. Well, take your pleafure; here's one I muft talk with.
Lew. Good day, Sin
Bri. Fair to yoUj Sir.
Lew. May I fpeak wij you ?
Bri. With all my heart, I was waiting on your goodnefs.
Lew. Good-morrow, monfieur Miramont*
Mir. Oh, fweet Sir,
Keep your good-morrow to cool your worfhip's pot tage.
A couple of the world's fools met together To raife up dirt and dunghills !
Ltw. Are they drawn ?
Bri. They mall be ready, Sir^ within thefe two hours, And Charles fet his hand*
Lew. 'Tis neceflary ;
For he being a joint purchafer, though your ftate Was got by your own induftry, unlefs
zl Vbat 'writes of fnows and Sheriffs,] The quarto in 1651, and the folio in 1679, ^ave 'c flows > which I take to be the genuine word : Becaufe Hollingihead is very prolix in defcribing tilts and tournaments/publick entries, mafques, and other pieces of pageantry.
132 THE ELDER BROTHER. He feal to the conveyance, it can be Of no validity.
Bri. He fhall be ready, And do it willingly.
Mir. He fhali be hang'd firft.
Bri. I hope your daughter likes.
Lew.- She loves him well, Sir : Young Euftace is a bait to catch a woman ; A budding fprightly fellow. You're reiblv'd then, That all fhall pafs from Charles ?
Bri. All, all ; he's nothing •, A bunch of books fhall be his patrimony, And more than he can manage too.
Lew. Will your brother TPafs over his land too, to your fon Euilace ? You know he has no heir.
Mir. He will be flead firft, And horfe-collars made of 's fkin !
Bri. Let him alone ;
A wilful man; my (late mall ferve the turn, Sir. And how does your daughter ?
Lew. Ready for the hour ; And like a blufhing rofe, that flays the pulling.
Bri. /To-morrow then's the day.
Lew. Why then to-morrow, I'll bring the girl ; get you the writings ready.
Mir. But hark you, moniieur, have you the vir tuous confcience
To help to rob an heir, an Elder Brother, Of that which nature and the law flings on him ? You were your father's eldeft fon, I take it, And had his land ; 'would you had had his wit too, ' Or his difcretion, to conficler nobly What 'tis to cteal unworthily in thefe things ! You'll fay, he's none of yours, he is his fon; And he will fay, he is no fon to inherit Above a fhelf of books. \Vhy did he get him ? Why was he brought up to write and read, and know things ?
Why
THE ELDER BROTHER. 133
Why was he not like his father, a dumb juftice ? A flat dull piece of phlegm, fhap'd like a man ? A reverend idol in a piece ot arras ? Can you lay difobedience, want of manners, Or any capital crime to his charge ?
Lew. I do not, Nor do not weigh your words; they bite not me,
Sir ; This man mult anfwer.
Bri. I have don't already, And given iufncient reafon to fecure me. And lo, good-morrow, brother, to your patience.
Lew. Good-morrow, monficur Miramont.
Mir, Good night-caps [Exeunt Bri. and Lew. Keep your brains warm, or maggots will breed in 'em ! Well, Charles, thou malt not want to buy thee books
yet;
The faireft in thy fludy are my gift, And the Univerfity Lovaine for thy fake Hath tailed of my bounty •, and to vex Th' old doting fool thy father, and thy brother, They fhall not fhare a folz of mine between them : Nay more, 1'il give thee eight thousand crowns a-
year, In fome high ilrain to write my epitaph. [Exit.
SCENE II.
',.'•; Enter Eujlace, Egremonf, and Cowfy. Euft. How do I look now to my Elder Brother ? Nay, 'tis a handfome fuit. Cow. All courtly, courtly. Euft. I'll aflfure ye, gentlemen, my taylor has
travel'd,
And fpeaks as lofty language in his bills too. The cover of an old book would not mew thus. Fy, fy, what things thefe academicks are^ Thefe book- worms, how they look \
I 3 Egre.
THE ELDER BROTHER.
Egre. They're mere images, No genteel motion nor behaviour in ?em -9 They'll prattle ye of frimum mobile, And tell a (lory of the date of Heav'n, What lords and ladies govern in fuch houfes, And what wonders they do when they meet together, And how they fpit fnow, fire, and hail, like a juggler* And make a noife, when1 they're drunk, which we call
thunder. Cow. They are the fneaking'fl things, and the con-
temptibleft •,
Such fmali-beer brains ! But afk 'em any thing Out of the element of their undemanding, And they (Ian4 gaping like a roa.lird pig. Do they know what a court is, or a council, Or how the affairs of Chriftendom are manacr'd ? PO they know any thing but a tir-d hackney ? And then, they cry * abfyrd/ as the hoiie underftoad
They have made a fair youth of your Juicier A pretty piece of flcfh !
• Ettft. J thank 'em for it •, Long may he ftudy^ to give, me his (tape ! Saw you 'my mjftrefs ?
Egre. Ycs3 fhc'S a fvveet young woman | But, be fure, you keep her from learning,
Euft. Songs fhe
May have, and read a little unbak'd poetry, Such as the dabblers of our time contrive, That has no weight nor wheel tq move the mind, Nor, indeed, nothing but an empty found •, She fhall hav£ clothes, but not made by geometry ^ Horfes and coach, but of no immortal race. I will not have a fcholar in mine houfe,
** dnd then they cry abfurd as the borfe under flood V.^.] Mru Theobal4 cenfiires this paiTage as fiafk ns>ifen.fe : Mr. Sewar d gives the following very proper explication of it : ' This is fpoke of tlie * college-ftudents, whom the top m^kes fuch pedants, as to ta;|c even f to their horfes in jcholajiic tertys> calling it abjurd^\\\ a Ured hacfc- « ney to hobble and ftunib'.e.'
Above
THE ELDER BROTHER. 135
Above a gentle reader; they corrupt The foolifh women with their fubtile problems : I'll have my houfe call'd Ignorance, to fright Prating philofophers from entertainment.
Cow. It will do well : Love thofe that love good
fafhions,
Good clothes and rich, they invite men to admire 'em ; That fpeak the lifp of court •, oh ! 'tis great learning To ricie well, dance well, fmg well, or whiftle courtly, They're rare endowments ; that have feen far countries, And can fpeak ftrange things, tho' they fpeak no truths, For then they make things common. When are you married ?
Euft. To-morrow, I think; we muft have a mafque^
boys, ' And of our own making.
Egre. 'Tis not half an hour's work| A Cupid and a riddle, and the thing's done. But let's be handfome; fhaH's be gods or nymphs?
Euft. What, nymphs with beards ?
Cow. That's true ; we will be knights then, Spme wandring knights, that light here on a fudden.
Euft. Let's go5 let's go; I muft go vifit, gentlemen, mark what fweet lips I muft kifs to-morrow.
SCENE III.
Enter Cook, Andrew, and Butler.
Cook. And how does my mafter ?
And. Is at's book. Peace, coxcomb ! That fuch an unlearn'd tongue as thine fhould afk for him !
Cook, Does he not ftudy conjuring too ?
And. Have you Loft any" pi at e^ Butler?
But. No, but I know I lhall to-morrow at dinner.
And. Then to-morrow
I 4 You
ij6 THE ELDER BROTHER.
You fhall be turn'd out of your place for't ; we meddle Withnofpiritso'th' butt'ry; they taftetoofmallforus. Keep me a pie in folio, I befeech thee, And thou fhalt fee how learn'dly I'll tranflatc him. .ShalTs have good cheer to-morrow ? Cook. Excellent good cheer, Andrew. And. The fpire on't is, that, much about th#t time> I fhall be arguing, or deciding rather, Which are the males and females of red herrings j And whether they be taken in the Red Sea only^ A queflion found out by Copernicus, The learned motion-maker.
Cook* Ay, marry, Butler,
Here are rare things ! A man, that looked upon him, Would fwear he undcrftood no more than we do.
Bui. Certain^ a learned Andrew*
And. I've fd much on't,, And am fo loaden with ftrong tmderflandmg, 1 fear they'll run me mad. Here's a new inftrument, A mathematical glitter, to purge the moon with, When flie is laden with cold phlegmatic humours ; And here's another, to remove the liars, When they grow too thick in tte firmament.
Cook. Oh, Heav'ns! why do I labour out my life In a beef-pot? and only fe arch the fecrets Of a fallad, and know no further ?
And. They are not
Reveal'd to all heads; thefe are far above Your element of fire, Cook I I could tell you Of Archimedes' glafs, to fire your coals with; And of the philosophers tnrf, that ne'er goes out. And, Gilbert Butler, I could raviih thee, With two rare inventions.
Bat. What are they, Andrew ?
And* The one, to blanch your bread 'from chip- pings bafe,
And in a moment, as. thou wouJdft an almond .; The fefl of the Epicureans invented that ; The otherj for thy trenchers, that's a flfong one,
To
THE ELDER BROTHER. 137
To cleanfe you twenty dozen in a minute,
And no noife heard ; which is the wonder, Gilbert!
And this was out of Plato's New Ideas.
But. Why, what a learned matter doft thou ferve, Andrew ?
And. Thefe are but the fcrapings of his underftand-
ing, Gilbert.
With gods and goddefies, and fuch ftrange people, He deals, and treats with in fo plain a fafhion, As thou doft with thy boy that draws thy drink, Or Ralph there, with his kitchen-boys and fcalders.
Cock. But why fhould he. not be familiar, and talk
fometimes,
As other Chriftians do, of hearty matters? And come into th' kitchen, and there cut his breakfafl ?
But. And then retire to the butt'ry, and there eat it, And drink a lufty bowl ? My younger mailer, That mil ft be now the heir, will c!o all thefe, Ay, and be drunk too ; thefe are mortal things.
And. My mailer ftudies immortality.
Cook. Now thou talk'ft of immortality, How does thy wife, Andrew ? My old matter Did you no fmall pieafure when he procured her, And ftock'd you in a farm. If he fhould love her now, As he hath a colt's tooth yet, what fays your learning And your ftrange inftruments to that, my Andrew ? Can any of your learned clerks avoid it ? Can you put by his mathematical engine ?
And. Yes, or I'll break it. Thou.awaken'ft me; And I'll peep i'th' moon this month, but I'll watch
for him !
My matter rings ; I muft go make him a fire, And conjure o'er his books.
Cook. Adieu, good Andrew j And fend thce manly patience with thy learning !
[Exeunt.
SCENE
138 THE ELDER BROTHER.
SCENE IV.
Charles.
Char. I have forgot to eat and fleep with reading^ And all my faculties turn into ftudy : JTis meat and fleep ! What need I outward garments^ Y/hen I can clothe myfelf with underflanding ? The ftars and glorious planets have no taylors, Yet ever new they are, and i]iine like courtiers; The feafons of the year find no fond parents, Yet fome are arm'd in filver ice that glifiers, And fome in gaudy green come in like mafoucrs $ The filk-worm fpins her own fuit and her lodging, And has no aid nor partner in her labours ! Why fhould we care for any thing but knowledge ? Or look upqn the world, but to contemn it ? "
Enter Andrew.
And. Would you have any thing ?
Char. Andrew, I find
There is a Hie grown o'er the eye o'th' bull *?, \Vhich will go near to blind the conflellation.
And. Put a gold ring in's nofe, and that will curp hi IT).
Char, Ariadne's crown's awry too \ two main ftars, That held it fail, are flipp'd out.
And. Send it prefently To Gfallilaeo, the Italian ftar-wright *4; He'll let it right again, with little labour.
Cljar. Thou art a pretty fcholar.
*3 Tbsre is a itie grown o'er the eye 0V£' bull ] Charles is fpeaking of the Bull, or fjgn 'Taurus^ upon the coeleitiai globe. A pie^e of dirt was fall'n on the Bull's eye, which look'd like that irfiammation which is ca!le-d zflie. ^heobald.
2}- To Gallatteo, the Italian Jlar-ivrigbt.'] But Gallilao was his true name, as i had feveral years ago mark'd in the margin of my book ; aiid as Mr. Syinpibn hkewiie lately obferved to me.
Theobald.
And.
THE ELDER BROTHER. 139
And. I hope I (hall be : Have I fwept your books fo often to know nothing ?
Char, I hear thou'rt married.
And. It hath pleas'd your father To match me to a maid of his o\yn choofing ^ : (I doubt her conflellation?s loofe too, and want$
nailing) And a fweet farm he has giv'n us, a mile off, Sir.
Char. Marry thyfelf to underftanding, Andrew: Thefe women are errata in all authors ! They're fair to fee to, and bound up in vellum, Smooth, white, and clear] but their contents are
moniirous ;
They treat of nothing but dull age and difeafes. Thou haft not fo much wit in thy head, as tlvrre is Qn thofe fhelves, Andrew.
And, I think 1 have not, Sir.
Char. No, if thou had it
Thou'dft ne'er have warrn'd a woman in. thy bofom " : They're cataplafms, made o'th' deadly fins. I ne'er faw any yet but mine own mothpr, Or, if I did, I did regard them but As fhadows that pafs by of under creatures.
And. Shall I bring you one ? I'll try ft you with my
own wife.
I would not have your brother go beyond you, ^They're the prettieft natural philofophers to play with!
Char. No, no •> they're opticks to delude mens' eyes
with.
poes my younger brother fpeak any Greek yet, Andrew ?
And. No, bait he fpeaks High Butch ; and that goes as daintily.
Char. Reach "me the books down I read yefterday, And make a little fire, and get a manchetj
25 <J"o match me to a maid of his oiva (hoofing',] Mr. Sympfon maid to mate ; which is certainly as unneccfldry as it is unwarranted.
z6 ¥1)014 dft nier have wnrm'd a woman iy thy bcfoui ;] The alla- fion, I take ir, is to the filly countryman, in the table, who cherifh^d a frozen fnake in his bofom', till it recovered and ftung him. Theobald.
Make
140 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Mike clean thofe inftruments of brafs I fhew'd you, And let the great fphere by ; then take the fox* tail, And purge the books from duft ; lad, take your Lilly, And get your part ready.
And. Shall I go home, Sir ? My wife's name is Lilly ; there my beft part lies, Sir.
Ciar. I mean your grammar. Oh, thou dunderhead! Wouldit thou be ever in thy wife's Syntaxis ? Let me have no noife, nor nothing to difturb me5 1 am to find a fecret.
And. So am I too ;
Which, if I do find, I (hall make fome fmart for't.
[Exeunt.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Lewis, Angellina, Sylvia, and Notary. Lew. /HTAHIS is the day, my daughter Angelina, J[ The happy day, that muft make you a
fortune,
A large and full one^ my great care has wrought it^ And yours muft be as great to entertain it. Young Euftace is a gentleman at all points, And his behaviour affable and courtly, His perlbn excellent-, I know you find that, I read it in your eyes, you like his youth. Young handfome people mould be match'd together, Then follow handfome children, handfome fortunes. The mod part of his father's (late, my wench, Is tied in jointure-, that makes up the harmony; And, when ye are married, he's of that foft temper, And fo far will be chain'd to your obfervance, That you may rule and turn him as you pleafe. What, are the writings drawn on our fide, Sir ?
Not, They are-, and here 1 have fo fetter'd hima That, if the Elder Brother fet his hand to, Not all the pow'r of law fliall e'er releafc him.
Lew.
THE ELDER BROTHER. 141
Lew. Thefe notaries are notable confident knaves, And able to do more mifchief than an army. Are all your claufes fure ?
Not. Sure as proportion ;
They may turn rivers fooner than thefe writings. Why did you not put all the lands in, Sir ?
Lew. 'Twas not condition'd.
Not. If it had been found, It had been but a fault made in the writing; If not found, all the land.
Lew. Thefe are fmall devils, That care not who has mifchief, fo they make it; They live upon the mere fcent of diflention : 'Tis well, 'tis well. Are you contented^ girl ? For your will muft be known.
Ang. A hufband's welcome, And, as an humble wife, I'll entertain him: No fovereignty I aim at ; 'tis the man's, Sir ; For fhe that feeks it kills her hufband's honour. The gentleman I have feen, and well obferv'd him, Yet find not that grac'd excellence you promife; A pretty gentleman, and he may pleafe too; And fome few flafhes I have heard come from him, But not to admiration, as to others; He's young, and may be good, yet he muft make it; And I may help, and, help'd too, thank him alfo a7'.
17 He's young and may be good, jet he. muft make it,
And 1 may fa/p, and help to thank him a!/o.] I can make no fort of fenfe of the latter part of the lait line ; but as the foregoing lines point out the intention of the author, 10 that will direft us to the true reading. The fenfe I take to be this. He's yet too young to be nVJ to either good or evil, but he may hereafter make himfelf good, and I .may help to make him fo : And, as I am young, he, in return, may help to 'fix me in goodn«is. The flight reformation, that I have of fered, entirely gives this fenfe. Seward.
Mr. Seward reads,
he*s young, and may be gwd,yet be tnuft ma\t him fo, And Imay beJp, and for help thank him atjo.
We think Mr. Sevvard's explanation of the/en/e of this pafl/.gf jufl ; but the ivora'j we have introduced to the text are nearer thofe cf the
old
i4l flJK ELDER B ROT HE It
It is your pleafure I fliould make him mine, And 't has been flili my duty to obferve you.
Leiv Why then let's gojarid I fhall love your modefly; To horfe, arid bring the coach out. Angellina,1 To-morrow you will look more womanly.
ring. So I look honeftiy, I fear no eyes> Sir* [£#<?.
SCENE II.
tLnter Bnfac; Andrew r, Cooky and Lilly.
Bri. Wait on your maftcr j he fhall have that befit^ him.
And. No inheritance; Sir?
En. You fpeak like a fool, a coxcomb ! lie fhall have annual means to buy him books, And find him clothes and meat; what would he more 1 Trouble him with land ? 'tis flat againft his nature/ > I love him too, and honour thole gifts in him.
And. Shall m after Euftace have all ?
Bri. All,- all ; he knows how To ufe it ; he's a mar) bred in the world; T'other i' th' heav'ns. My mafters, pray be wary And ferviceable ; and, Cook, fee ail your fauces Be (harp and poignant in the palate, that they may Commend you ; look to your roaft and bak'd meat£
handfomely,
And what new kickfhaws and delicate made things—* Is th' miifick come ?
But, Yes, Sir, they're here at breakfafl.
Bri. There will be a mafque too. You muft fee this
room clean,
Andj Butler, your door open to all good fellows: But have an eye to your plate, for there be furies My Lilly, welcome ! you are for the linen -, Sort it, and fet it ready for the table $
old copies, while they convey the fame meaning: « Each giving helfa ' and each giving thanks? The alteration in the firft linefeems totally unnecefiaiy.
And
THE ELDER BROTHER.
And fee the bride-bed made, and look the cords be Not cut afunder by the gallants too j There be fuch knacks abroad. Hark hither, Lilly ! To-morrow night, at twelve o' clock, I'll flip w'ye : Your huiband fhall be fafe *y I'll fend you meat too. Before, I cannot well flip from my company.
And. Will you fo, will you fo$ Sir ? I'll make one to
eat it 5 I may chance to make you dagger too.
BfL No anfwer, Lilly ?
Lil. One word about the liriefi. I'll be ready; And reft your worfhip's ftill.
And. And I'll reft w'ye ;
You fhall fee Mat reft 'twill be. Are you fo nimble? A man had need have ten pair of ears to watch you.
Rri. Wait on your rriafter, for I know he wants you i And keep him in his ftudy, that the noife Do not moleft him. I will not fail, my Lilly ! Come in, fweet-hearts, all to their feveral duties. [Ex.
And.kre you kifTing-ripe.,Sir? Double but my farm* And kifs her 'till thy heart ake. Theft fmock-vermin ! How eagerly they leap at old mens' kifTes I They lick their lips at profit, not at pleafure. And if 'twere not for the fcurvy name of cuckold, He fhould H*J with her. I know, ihe'll labour at length With a good lordfhip. If he had a wife now ! But that's all one, I'll fit him. I muft up Unto my mafter ; he'll be mad with ftudy, [ExiL
SCENE 1IL
Enter Charles.
Char. What noife is this ? My head is broken ! Ifi
ev'ry corner *% . As
28 What noife is in this bouff, my bead is broken.] The old editions have handed down to us as ridiculous a blunder upon this p ifljge, as ever pafs'd the prefs. They read ;
- — • my bead is broken,
Within a parenthefis in ev^ry corner:
Our
144 THE ELDER BROTHER.
As if the earth were fliaken with fome ftrange cholic, There are ftirs and motions. What planet rules this houfe ?
Enter
Our learned and ingenious Mr. Gibber, who jumbled the Cuftom of the Country and this play into one comedy, fagacioufly faw, that<u//£- in a parenthefis did not fo harmonioufly begin a verfe j he has there fore alter'd it thus.
• my bead is broken
With a parenthefis in ev*ry corner- ;
This gentleman, I fuppofe, might have met with this fcrap of Lathi, which is faid to thofe who make falfe grammar, Diminuis Prifdani caput : You break Pnfcian's head. Now if a little falfe grammar would break Prifcian's head, he natunlly concluded, a common man's head might be broken with a parenthefes : and fo he very judicioufly adopted the expreffion.- But may it not be afked, how did this
nonfenfe flip at firfl into the old books ? I believe, I can give a folu- tion for that. Some careful reader had written in the margin of his book at the words,
My head is broken
Within a parent bejis.
But forgetting to make the two half-moons, which form a parenthejis, it was miftook at prels for a part of the text, and thence we derive this wonderful interpolation. Theobald.
As this paflage has been moft ftrangely treated, we hope our readers will allow us to lay before them the leftions of the feveral editions which have come to our hands, together with a few remarks on the different variations : But which, as it may be cenfured as a fpecies of verbal criticifm^ we mould not have done, had we not imagined it would afford entertainment to the curious and d'lfcerning. Quarto, 1637, fays,
What noife is in this houfe, my head is broken^
Within a parenthefis, in every corner
A^ if the earth were faakeH> £c. Quarto, 1651,
What noife is this, my head is broken^
Within a parenihejis, in every corner
As if the earth nvere Jkaken, &c.
Folio, 1679 (wherein the whole of this beautiful poem is degraded into profe), except faying, What a noife , copies the words of 1637. O&avo, 1711,
What noife is in this houfe^ my head is broken,
With ftveral noifes ; and in every corner,
Ai if the earth lucre Jhaken> Sec.
Here we find that the rejedion of the words, within a parentbr/is, was concluded on near forty years before Mr. Theobald's edition
was
THE ELDER BROTHER. 145
Enter Andrew. Who's there ?
And. 'Tis I, Sir, faithful Andrew.
Char. Come near, And lay thine ear down ; hear'ft no noife ?
And. The cooks
Are chopping herbs and mince-meat t6 make pies. And breaking marrow-bones.
Char. Can they let them again ?
Ana. Yes, yes, in broths and puddings ; and they grow flronger,
was publifhed ; a circumftance he ought to have mentioned, as well as the interpolation of the words, ivitb federal noifes ; and — .' Odavo, 1750,
What noife is in thn boufe, (my "head is broken ! ) With federal noife $ ; an din tnjery corner j ds if the earth iverejhaken, &c.
We will give Mr. Theobald credit for the rejeded words having been meant as a diredion ; but farely, then, the parenthejis fhoald have extended further than he has made it ; it mould have gone on to the w-ord corner ; otherwife, aflifted by his alteration of the points, the whole paffdge is (to ufe that gentleman's favourite expreflion) Jtark nonfenfe. It is beyond the power of human ingenuity, we be lieve, to make any fenfe of, What noife is in this houfe, ivitb fcveral noifes ', and in every corner ; as if the earth iverej/jaken, &C. A plain proof this is, among innumerable others, that the defervedly-moft- admired Editor of Shakefpeare undertook the revifal of the next-bed Englifh dramatiils, when his faculties were debilitated and his fancy txtinguiflied, if not his underftanding impaired. Of the quartos, the oldeit are, generally, moil to be depended on ; but the Elder Brother is an exception to this rule. The copy of 1651 corrects various paf- fages which appear nonfenfe in that of 1637, a8 vve^ as enables us to reftify feveral new errors in the more modern editions : Not that that is immaculate : Without thefirft copy (aided by the fame infinite drudgery of comparifon neceffary for the other fixteen plays printed in quarto) we fhould not be enabled to furnifli our readers with fuch a copy of the Elder Brother as would give ourfelves fatisfadion.
With refpecl to parenthefes, our anceftors were unreafonably fond of them ; in the prefent initance, to put the words, my head is broken, between a pKrentheJis, though allowable, is totally anneceffiry. We have (except in punduation) followed our favourite quarto; and flatter ourfelves, the reading here exhibited will be allowed to be, more than any prior to it, lenfible, poetical, and nervous.
The interpolated words, with federal noifes, we apprehend to have been originally a direction for the reprefentation at the theatre.
VOL. II. K For
146 THE ELDER BROTHER.
For th' nfe of any man.
Char. What fqueaking's that ? Sure, there is a maffacre.
And. Of pigs and geefe, Sir,
And turkeys, for the fpit. The cooks arc angry, Sir, And that makes up the medley.
Char. Do they thus
At every dinner ? I ne'er mark'd them yet, Nor know who is a cook.
And. They're fometimes fober, And then they beat as gently as a tabcr.
Char. What loads are thefe ?
And. Meat, meat, Sir, for the kitchen ^ And ftinking fowls the tenants have fent in : They'll ne'er be found out at a general eating. And there's fat venifon, Sir.
Char. What's that?
And. Why, deer;
Thofe that men fatten for their private pleafures, And let their tenants ftarve upon the commons.
Char. I've read of deer, but yet I ne'er eat any.
And. There's a fifhmonger's boy with caviare19, Sir 5 Anchovies, and potargo 5°, to make you drink.
Char. Sure, thefe are modern, very modern meats, For I underftarid 'em not.
And. No more does any man From caca-merdal\ or a fubftance worfe, 'Till they be greas'd with oil, and rubb'd with onions, And then flung out of doors, they are rare fallads.
Char. And why is all this, prithee, tell me, Andrew? Are there any princes to dine here to-day ? By this abundance, fure, there mould be princes. I've read of entertainment for the gods, At half this charge. Will not fix dimes fervc 'em :
29 Caviare.] The eggs of a fturgeon.
30 Potargo.'] A pickle, prepared in the Well Indies.
31 Caca-merda.'} This expreflion, too grofs for an Englifh au dience, or an Englifh reader, will be underlined by every perfon con- veriant in the Spanilh and Portuj;uefe languages.
I .never
THE ELDER BROTHER. 147
J never had but one, and that a fmall one.
And. Your brother's married this day j he's married; Your younger brother, Euftace !
Char. What of that ?
And. And all the friends about are bidden hither ; There's not a dog that knows the houfe but comes too.
Char. Married ? to whom ?
Apd. Why, to a dainty gentlewoman, Young, fweet, and modeft.
Char. Are there modeft women ? How do they look ?
And. Oh, you'd blefs yourfelf to fee them. He parts with's book ! He ne'er did fo before yet !
Char. What does my father for 'em ?
And. Gives all his land, And makes your brother heir.
Char. Muft I have nothing ?
And. Yes, you muft ftudy ftill, and he'll maintain you.
Char. I am his Elder Brother.
And. True, you were fo •, But he has leap'd o'er your moulders, Sir.
Char. 'Tis well •, He'll not inherit my underftanding too ?
And. I think not ; he'll fcarce find tenants to let it Out to,
Char. Hark, hark!
And. The coach that brings the fair lady.
Enter Lewis, Angellina, Ladies, Notary , &c.
Now you may fee her.
Char. Sure, this mould be modeft -9 But I do not truly know what women make of it, Andrew ! She has a face looks like a ttory 3i ;
The
3* She has a face looks like a (lory ;
*Tbe ftory of the Hea-^ns looks 'very like her.] Mr. Seward,
oat of kindnefs to Charles, and that he may * not talk nonfenfe,'
would alter Jlory to glory in both places: But, fays Mr. Theobald,
K 2 * J have
.148 THE ELDER BROTHER,
The ftory of the Heav'ns looks very like her,
And. She has a wide face then.
Char. She has a cherubin's, Cover'd and veil'd with modefl blufhes. Euftace, be happy, whilft poor Charles is patient ! Get me my book again, and come in with me. [Exeunt.
Enter Brifcc, Euftace, Egremont, Cowfy and Miramont.
Bri. Welcome, fweet daughter ; welcome, noble
brother ;
And you are welcome, Sir, with all your writings -, Ladies, moil welcome ! What, my angry brother ! You muft be welcome too 5 the feaft is flat elfe.
Mir. I come not for your welcome, I expect none ; I bring no joys to blefs the bed withal; Nor fongs, nor mafques, to glorify the nuptials. I bring an angry mind, to fee your folly, A fharp one too, to reprehend you for it.
Bri. You'll Hay and dine though ?
Mir. All your meat fmells mufty •, Your table will mew nothing to content me.
Bri. I'll aflure you, here's good meat.
Mir. But your lauce is fcurvy ; It is not feafon'd with the fharpnefs of difcretion.
Euft. It feems your anger is at me, dear uncle.
Mir. Thee ! Thou art not worth my anger •, thou'rt
a boy ;
A lump o' thy father's likenefs, made of nothing But antick clothes and cringes ! Look in thy head, And 'twill appear a foot-ball full of fumes And rotten fmoke ! Lady, I pity you ;
' I have preferv'd the word jlory, becaufe our Authors have ufed the * fame image in their Philafter ,-
— ffvqju that foolljh man,
That reads the fiery of a woman's face,-
And dies believing //, is loji for ever !
wherein he certainly is very right ; which is Hill ilronger proved, by Euitace afterwards faying,
Hofw do you, brother •, ivitb your curious llory ?
Have you not read her yet JSfficiently ?
You
THE ELDER BROTHER. 149
You are a handfome and a fwcet young lady, And ought to have a handfome man yok'd t'ye, An underftanding too; this is a gincrack, That can get nothing but new famions on you ; For fay, he have a thing fhap'd like a child, 'Twill either prove a tumbler or a.taylor.
Euft. Thefe are but harm words, uncle.
Mir. So I mean 'em. Sir, you play harfher play w'your Elder Brother.
Euft. I would be loth to give you
Mir. Do not venture ;
I'll make your wedding-clothes fit clofer t'ye then. I but difturb you ; I'll go fee my nephew.
Lew. Pray take a piece of roiemary r>.
Mir. I'll wear it ;
But for the lady's fake, and none of yours ! May be, I'll fee your table too.
Bri. Pray do, Sir. {Exit Mir.
Ang. A mad old gentleman.
Bri. Yes, faith, fweet daughter, He has been thus his whole age, to my knowledge. He has made Charles his heir, I know that certainly •, Then why mould he grudge Eufcace any thing ?
Ang. I would not have a light head, nor one laden With too much learning, as, they fay, this Charles is, That makes his book his miilrefs. Sure, there's
fomething
Hid in this old man's anger, that declares him Not a mere fot.
Bri. Come, mail we go and feal, brother ? All things are ready, and the prieft is here. When Charles has fet his hand unto the writings, As he mall inftantly, then to the wedding, And fo to dinner.
Lew. Come, let's feal the book firft,
3J Pray take a piece of rofemary.] It has been obferved, that rofemary was anciently fuppofed to ftrengthen the memory, and that it was not only carried at funerals, but worn at weddings, See Hamlet, act iv. fc. v. R.
K 3 For
150 THE ELDER BROTHER.
For my daughter's jointure.
Bri. Let's be private in't, Sir. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Charles, Miramont, and Andrew.
Mir. Nay, you're undone !
Char. Hum !
Mir. Ha'ye no greater feeling ?
And. You were fcnfible of the great book, Sir, When it fell on your head ; and, now the houfe Is ready to fall, do you fear nothing ?
Char. Will he have my books too ?
Mir. No ; he has a book, A fair one too, to read on, and read wonders. I would then hadft her in thy ftudy, nephew, An 'twere but to new-ftring her.
Char. Yes, I faw her ;
And, methought, 'twas a curious piece of learning -, Handfomely bound, and of a dainty letter.
And. He flung away his book.
Mir. I like that in him : 'Would he had flung away his dullnefs too, And fpake to her.
Char. And muft my brother have all ?
Mir. All that your father has.
Char. And that fair woman too ?
Mir. That woman alfo.
Char. He has enough then. May I not fee her fometimes, and call her filler ? I will do him no wrong.
Mir. This makes me mad ; I could now cry for anger i Thefe old fools Are the moft ftubborn and the wilfull'ft coxcombs ! Farewell, and fall to your book-, forget your brother; You are my heir, and I'll provide y' a wife. I'll look upon this marriage, though I hate it. [Exit.
Enter
THE ELDER BROTHER. 151
Enter Brifac.
Sri. Where is my fon ?
And. There, Sir •, cafting a figure What chopping children his brother (hall have.
Bri. He does well. How do'ft, Charles ? Still at thy book ?
And. He's ftudying now, Sir, who fhall be his father.
Bri. Peace, you rude knave ! Come hither, Charles -9 be merry.
^har. I thank you ; I am bufy at my book, Sir.
Bri. You muft put your hand, my Charles, as I
would have you,
Unto a little piece of parchment here •, Only your name. You write a reafonable hafld.
Char. But I may do unreafonably to write it. What is it, Sir ?
Bri. To pafs the land I have, Sir, Unto your younger brother.
Char. Is't no more ?
Bri. No, no, 'tis nothing: You fhall be provided for* And new books you fhall have ftill, and new ftudies -, And have your means brought in withoutthy care, boy; And one ftill to attend you.
Char. This mews your love, father.
Bri. I'm tender to you.
And. Like a ftone, I take it.
Char. Why, father, I'll go down, an't pleafe you let
me,
Becaufe I'd fee the thing they call the gentlewoman. I fee no women, but through contemplation, And there I'll do't before the company, And wilh my brother fortune.
Bri. Do, I prithee.
Char. I muft not flay ; for I have things above, Require my ftudy.
Bri. No, thou malt not flay ; Thou lhalt have a brave dinner too.
And. Now has he
O'erthrown himfelf for ever. I will down Into the cellar, and be ftark drunk for anger ! [Exeunt. K4 SCENE
i52 THE ELDER BROTHER.
SCENE V.
Enter Lewis , Angellina, Euft ace, Prieft, Ladies , Notary , and Miramont.
Not. Come, let him bring his fon's hand, and all's done, Is yours ready ?
Prieft. Yes, I'll difpatch ye prefently, Immediately •, for, in truth, I am a-hungry.
Euft. Do, fpeak apace, for we believe exactly. Do not we ftay long, miftrefs ?
Ang. \ find no fault ;
Better things well done, than want time to do them. Uncle, why are you fad ?
Mir. Sweet-fmelling bloffom ! 'Would I were thine uncle to thine own content j I'd make thy hufband's ftate a thoufand better, A yearly thoufand. Thou haft mils'd a man (But that he is addicted to his finely, And knov/s no other miftrefs than his mind) Would weigh down bundles of thefe empty kexes,
Ang. Can he fpeak, Sir ?
Mir. 'Faith, yes ; but not to women : His language is to Heav'n, and heav'nly wonder, To nature, and her dark and iecret caufes.
Ang. And does he fpeak well there ?
Mir. Oh, admirably ! But he's too baihful to behold a woman ; There's none that fees him, nor he troubles none,
Ang. He is a man.
Mir. Yes, and a clear fweet fpirit.
Ang. Then converfation, fnethinks
'Mir. So think I too ; But 'tis his rugged fate, and fo I leave yon.
Ang. I like thy noblenefs.
Euft. See, my mad uncle Is courting my fair miftrefs.
Lew. Let him alone ; There's nothing that allays an angry mind So foon as a fweet beauty. He'll come to us.
Enter
THE ELDER BROTHER. 153
Enter Brifac and Charles.
Euft. My father's here, my brother too, that's a
wonder ; Broke like a fpirit from his cell.
Bri. Come hither,
Come nearer, Charles ; 'twas your defire to fee My noble daughter, and the company, And give your brother joy, and then to feal, boy. You do like a good brother.
Lew. Marry, does he, And he fliall have my love for ever for't. Put to your hand now.
Not. Here's the deed, Sir, ready.
Char. No, you muft pardon me a while : I tell yon, I am in contemplation •, do not trouble me,
Bri. Come, leave thy ftudy, Charles.
Char. I'll leave my life firft : I ftudy now to be a man -, I've found it. Before, what man was, was but my argument.
Mir. I like this beft of all -, he has taken fire ; His dull mift flies away.
Euft. Will you write, brother ?
Char. No, brother, no -} I have no time for poot
things ; I'm taking th' height of that bright conftellation.
Bri. I lay you trifle time, ion.
Char. I will not feal, Sir :
I am your Eldeft, and I'll keep my birth-right 4 For, Heav'n forbid I fhould become example. Had y'only fhew'd me land, I had deliver'd it, And been a proud man to have parted with it; 'Tis dirt, and labour. Do I fpeak right, uncle ?
Mir. Bravely, my boy ; and blefs thy tongue !
Char. I'll forward.
But you have open'd to me fuch a treafure, (I find my mind free-, Heav'n direct my fortune !)
Mir. Can he fpeak now ? Is this a fon to facrifice ?
Char. Such an inimitable piece of beauty,
That
154 THE ELDER BROTHER.
That I have fludied long, and now found only, That Pll part fooner with my foul of reafon, And be a plant, a beaft, a fim, a fly, And only make the number of things up, Than yield one foot of land, if Ihe be tied to't !
Lew. He fpeaks unhappily.
Ang. And, methinks, bravely. This the mere fcholar ?
Euft. You but vex yourfelf, brother, And vex your ftudy too.
Char. Go you and ftudy ; For 'tis time, young Euftace. You want man and
manners ;
I've ftudy'd both, although I made no mow on't* Go, turn the volumes over I have read, Eat and digeft them, that they may grow in thee : Wear out the tedious night with thy dim lamps, And fooner lofe the day than leave a doubt : Diftil the fweetnefs from the poets1 fpring, And learn to love •, thou know'ft not what fair is : Traverfe the ftories of the great heroes, The wife and civil lives of good men walk through : Thou haft feen nothing but the face of countries, And brought home nothing but their empty words ! Why fhouldft thou wear a jewel of this worth, That haft no worth within thee to preferve her ?
Beauty clear and fair, Where the air
Rather like a perfume dwells ; Where the violet and the rofe Their blue veins in bliifh difclofe,
And come to honour nothing elfe.
Where to live near, And planted there,
Is to live, and ftill live new ; Where to gain a favour is More than light, perpetual blifs,
Make me live by ferving you.
Dear,
THE ELDER BROTHER. 155
Dear, again back recall To this light,
A ftranger to himfelf and all ; Both the wonder and the ftory Shall be yours, and eke the glory :
I am your fervant, and your thrall.
Mir. Speak fuch another ode, and take all yet ! What fay you to the fcholar now ?
Ang. I wonder! Is he your brother, Sir ?
Euft. Yes. 'Would he were buried I J fear he'll make an afs of me ; a younker 14.
Ang. Speak not fo foftly, Sir ; 'tis very likely.
Bri. Come, leave your finical talk, and let's difpatch, Charles.
Char. Difpatch! what?
Bri. Why, the land.
Char. You are deceiv'd, Sir : Now I perceive what 'tis that wooes a woman, And what maintain's her when me's woo'd. 1*11 ftop
here.
A wilful poverty ne'er made a beauty, Nor want of means maintain'd it virtuoufly. Though land and monies be no happinefs, Yet they are counted good additions. That ufe I'll make -, he that neglects a Welling, Though he want prefent knowledge how to ufe it, Neglects himfelf. May be, I have done you wrong, lady, Whofe love and hope went hand in hand together ^
14 1 fear, hill make an a/3 of me, a younger.] A younger what : He was already \\\& younger brother. I hope, I may venture to lay, that I have retrieved the original word. A younker, among the failors. is a lad employ 'd in the mod fervile offices belonging to the Ihip ; fuch as fwabbing the deck, taking in thetop-fail.% flinging the yards, tailing their turns at the helm, bV. Tbeovala"
This contemptuous diftinclion is very common in the old plays. So, Fallhff fays, ' What, will you make a younker of me?' lit Part Hen. iv. aft iii. R.
And yet, probably, after all, younger is the right word ; fince thf whole play turns on an attempt to make the Younger Brother the Elder, which the Elder Brother defeats.
May-
J56 THE ELDER BROTHER.
May be, my brother, that has long expected The happy hour, and blefs'd my ignorance. (Pray, give me leave, Sir, I mail clear all doubts.) Why did they mew me you ? Pray tell me that.
(Mir. He'll talk theeintoapenfion for thy knavery.)
Char. You, happy you ! why did you break unto
me ?
The rofy-finger'd morn neTer broke fo fweetly. I am a man, and have defires within me, Affections too, though they were drown'd a while, And lay dead, till the fpring of beauty rais'd them : Till I faw thofe eyes, I was but a lump^ A chaos of confufednefs dwelt in me ^ Then from thole eyes mot Love, and he diftinguifh'd, And into form he drew my faculties ; And now I know my land, and now I love too.
Bri. We had beft remove the maid.
Char. It is too late, Sir ;
I have her figure here. Nay, frown not, Euftace, There are leis worthy fouls for younger brothers : This is no form of filk, but fanctity, Which wild lafcivious hearts can never dignify. Remove her where you will, I walk along ftill, For, like the light, we make no feparation. You may fooner part the billows of the fea> And put a bar betwixt their fellowmips, Than blot out my remembrance •, fooner fhut Old Time into a den, and ftay his motion j Warn off the fwift hours from his downy wings, Or fteal Eternity to flop his glafs, That fhut the fweet idea I have in me. Room for an Elder Brother ! Pray give place, Sir !
Mir. H'as ftudied duel too ; take heed, he'll beat
thee ;
H'as frighted the old juftice into a fever ! I hope, he'll difmherit him too for an afs •, For, though he be grave with years, he's a great baby.
Char. Do not you think me mad ?
Ang. No, certain, Sir :
I have
THE ELDER BROTHER. 157
I have heard nothing from you but things excellent.
Char. You look upon my clothes, and laugh at me; My fcurvy clothes !
Ang. They have rich linings, Sin I would your brother-
Char. His are gold> and gaudy.
Ang. But touch 'ern inwardly, they fmell of copper.
Char. Can you love me ? I am an heir, fweet lady. However I appear a poor dependant. Can you love with honour? I fhall love fo ever. Is your eye ambitious ? I may be a great man. Is't wealth or lands you covet ? my father muft die.
Mar. That was well put in -, I hope he'll take it deeply.
Char. Old men are not immortal, as I take it, Is it you look for youth and handfomenels ? I do confefs my brother's a handfome gentleman ; But he fhall give me leave to lead the way, lady. Can you love for love 3S, and make that the reward? The old man fhall not love his heaps of gold With a more doting fuperftition, Than I'll love you •, the young man, his delights ; The merchant, when he ploughs the angry lea up, And fees the mountain-billows falling on him, As if all elements, and all their angers, Were turn'd into one vow'd deftruction, Shall not with greater joy embrace his fafety. We'll live together like two wanton vines, Circling our fouls and loves in one another ; We'll fpring together, and we'll bear one fruit ; One joy fhall make us fmile, and one grief mourn, One age go with us, and one hour of death Shall cloie our eyes, and one grave make us happy.
Ang. And one hand leal the match : I'm yours forever !
35 Lo<ve for Love] Thefe words are the title of Congreve's comedy, in which he has palpably copied our Authors, particularly in endeavouring to make the Elder Brother forego his birthright, in favour of the Younger. The very name of Angelica, Valentine's milirefs, is perhaps borrowed from Angeliina.
Lew.
158 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Lew. Nay, flay, flay, ftay!
Ang. Nay, certainly, 'tis done, Sir.
Bri. There was a contract.
Ang. Only conditional, That if he had the land, he had my love too : This gentleman's the heir, and he'll maintain it. Pray be not angry, Sir, at what I fay ; Or, if you be, 'tis at your own adventure. You have the outfide of a pretty gentleman, But, by my troth, your infide is but barren. *Tis not a face I only am in love with ^ Nor will I fay, your face is excellent ; A reafonable hunting face, to court the wind with ; Nor they're not words, unlefs they be well plac'd too, Nor your fweet dam-Mite's, nor your hired vcrfes, Nor telling me of clothes, nor coach and horfes, No, nor your vifits each day in new fuits, Nor your black patches you wear varioufly, Some cut like itars, fome in half-moons, fome lo zenges j6. All which but mew you ftill a younger brother !
Mir. Gra'mercy, wench, thou haft a noble foul too.
Ang. Nor your long travels, nor your little know ledge,
Can make me dote upon you. Faith, go ftudy, And glean fome goodnefs, that you may mew manly ; (Your brother at my fuit, Fm fure, will teach you.) Or only ftudy how to get a wife, Sir. You're caft behind-,'tis good you mould be melancholy, It mews like a gamefier that had loft his money, And 'tis the fafhion to wear your arm in a fcarf, Sir, For you have had a fhrewd cut o'er the ringers.
1 Nor your black patches you ivear <variouj]yy Some cut like ftars, fome in half-moons, fome lozenges. All which but'jhenu you Jlill a younger brother.] The cuftom of wearing black patches on the face began amongft the men, being made of black velvet, and cut in various (hape s. It was a foppilh imitation of the officers of the army, who, in one place of our Authors, ute faid, after a campaign, to be obligM from their wounds, to ^wear their faces in velvet fcabbards. Seward.
Lew.
THE ELDER BROTHER. 159
Lew. But are you in earneil ?
Ang. Yes, believe me, father ; You fhall ne'er chufe for me •, you're old and dim, Sir, And th' fhadow of the earth eclips'd your j udgment. You've had your time without controul, dear father, And you mufl give me leave to take mine now, Sir,
Bri. This is the lall time of afking -, will you fet your hand to ?
Char. This is the laft time of anfwering; I will never!
Bri. Out of my doors!
Char. Moft willingly.
Mir. He mail, Jew;
Thou of the tribe of Man-y-afles! coxcomb! And never trouble theemore till thy chops be cold, foot
Ang. Muft I be gone too ?
Lew. I will never know thee.
Ang. Then this man will : What fortune he malj
run, father, Be't good or bad, I mufi partake it with him,
Enter Egrcmont.
Egre. When mail the mafque begin ?
Euft. 'Tis done already : All, all, is broken off; I am undone, friend! My brother's wife again, and has fpoil'd all, Will not releafe the land ; has won the wench too.
Egre. Could he not ftay till th1 mafque was paft ?
We're ready. What a fcurvy trick is this ?
Mir. Oh, you may vanifh !
Perform it at fome hall, where the citizens' wives May fee't for fix-pence a-piece, and a cold flipper. Come, let's go, Charles ! And now, my noble daughter, I'll fell the tiles of my houie ere thou fhalt want, wench. Rate up your dinner, Sir, and fell it cheap. Some younger brother will take't up in commodities. Send you joy, nephew Euftace ! If you iludy the law, Keep your great pippin-pies ; they'll go far with you.
Cbar. I'd have your bleiiing.
Bri.
i6o THE ELDER BROTHER.
Bri. No, no ; meet me no more ! Farewell ! thou wilt blaft mine eyes elfe.
Char. I will not.
/ ew. Nor fend not you for gowns !
Ang. I'll wear coarfe flannel firfb.
Bri. Come, let's go take fome counfel.
Lew. 'Tis too late.
Bri. Then ilay and dine •, it may be, we mall
'em. [Exeunf.
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Enter Brifac, Euftace, Egremont, and Cowfy.
Brifac. T^T E'ER talk to me ! You are no men, buc
X^l mafquers -,
Shapes, madows, and the figns of men; court- bubbles,
That every breath or breaks or blows away ! You have no fouls, no mettle in your bloods* No heat to ftir ye when ye have occafion ! Frozen dull things, that muft be turn'd with leavers ! Are you the courtiers, and the travell'd gallants ? The fprightly fellows, that the people talk of ? You've no more fpirit than three fleepy lots !
Euft. What would you have me do, Sir ?
Bri. Follow your brother,
And get you out of doors, and feek your fortune ! Stand ftill becalm'd, and let an aged dotard, A hair-brain'd puppy, and a bookifh boy. That never knew a blade above a penknife, x\nd how to cut his meat in characters, Crofs my defign, and take thy own wench from thee ? In mine own houfe too ? Thou defpis'd, poor fellow !
Euft. The reverence that 1 ever bare to you, Sir, Then to my uncie, with whom't had been but faucinefs
T' have been fo rough
Egre.
THE ELDER BROTHER. 161
Egre. And we not feeing him Strive in his own caufe, that was principal, And fhould have led Us on, thought it ill manners To begin a quarrel here.
Bri. You dare do nothing.
Do ye make your care th' excufe of your cowardlinefs? Three boys on hobby -horfes,with three-penny halberts, Would beat you all.
Cow. You muft not fay fo.
Bri. Yes, And fing it too,
Cow. You are a man of peace, Therefore we muft give way.
Bri. I'll make my way ;
And therefore quickly leave me, or 1*11 force you ; And, having firft torn off your flaunting feathers, I'll trample on 'em ; and if that cannot teach you To quit my houfe, I'll kick you out of my gates, You gaudy glow-worms, carrying feeming fire, Yet have no heat within you !
Cow. Oh, blefs'd travel ! How much we owe thee for our pow'r to fuffer ?
Egre. Some fplenitive youths now, that had never
feen
More than their country fmoke, would grow in choler: It would (hew fine in us!
Euft. Yes, marry, would it,
That are prime courtiers, and muft know no angers ; But give thanks for our injuries, if we p'urpofe To hold our places.
Bri. Will you find the door,
And find it fuddenly ? You fhall lead the way, Sir, With your perfum'd retinue, and recover The now-loft Angellina ; or, build on it, I will adopt fome beggar's doubtful iflue, Before thou (halt inherit.
Euft. We'll to counfel ; And what may be done by man's wit or valour
VOL. II. L We'll
162 THE ELDER BROTHERi
We'll put in execution.
Bri. Do, or never Hope I fhall know thee. [Exeunt.
Enter Lewis.
Lew. Oh, Sir, have I found you ?
Bri. I never hid myfelf. Whence flows this fury, With which, as it appears, you come to fright me ?
Lew. I fmell a plot, a mere confpiracy, Among ye all, to defeat me of my daughter ; And if flie be not fuddenly delivered, Untainted in her reputation too, The belt of France mall know how 1 am juggled
with.
She is my heir, and if me may be ravifh'd Thus from my care, farewell, nobility ! Honour and blood are mere negle&ed nothings.
Bri. Nay, then, my lord, you go too far, and tax
him
Whofe innocency underftands not what fear is. If your unconilant daughter will not dwell On certainties, muft you thenceforth conclude That I am fickle ? What have I omitted, To make good my integrity and truth ? Nor can her lightnefs, nor your fuppofiticn, Call an afperfion on me.
Lew. I am wounded
In fact, nor can words cure it. Do not trifle -9 ^ But fpeedily, once more I do repeat it, Reftore my daughter as I brought her hither, Or you fhall hear from me in fuch a kind As you will blufh to anfwer ! [Exit Lewis.
Bri. All the world,
I think, conipires to vex me -, yet I will not Torment myfelf ; fome fprightful mirth muft banim The rage and melancholy which hath almoft choak'd
me :
T' a knowing man 'tis phyfic, and 'tis thought one.
One
THE ELDER BROTHER. 163
One merry hour I'll have, in fpite of fortune, To chear my heart, and this is that appointed : This night I'll hug my Lilly in my arms ; Provocatives are fent before to chear me ; We old men need 'em ; and though we pay dear For our ftol'n pleafures, fo it be done fecurely, The charge, much like a fharp fauce, gives 'em relifh. Well, honeft Andrew, I gave you a farm, And it mall have a beacon, to give warning To my other tenants when the foe approaches •, And presently, you being beflow'd elfewhere, I'll graft it with dexterity on your forehead ; Indeed, I will. Lilly, I come ! poor Andrew ! [Ex.
SCENE II.
Enter Mlramont and Andrew.
Mir. Do they chafe roundly ? „
And. As they were rubb'd with fope, Sir. And now they fwear aloud, now calm again, Like a ring of bells, whofe found the wind ftill alters; And then they lit in council what to do, And then they jar again, what mall be done. They talk of warrants from the parliament, Complaints to the king, and forces from the province •, They have a thoufand heads in a thoufand minutes, Yet ne'er a one head worth a head of garlick.
Mir. Long may they chafe, and long may we laugh
at 'em,
A couple of pure puppies yoak'd together ! But what fays the young courtier, mafter Euftace, And his two warlike friends ?
And. They fay but little ; How much they think, I know not. They look rue-
fully,
As if they had newly come from a vaulting-houfe, And had been quite mot thro' 'tween wind and water By a ihe Dunkirk, and had fprung a leak, Sir.
L 2 Certain
1 64 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Certain, my matter was to blame.
Mir. Why, Andrew ?
And. To take away the wench o' th' fudden from
him,
And give him no lawful warning •, he is tender, And of a young girl's coniuitution, Sir, Ready to get the green- ficknefs with conceit. Had he but ta'en his leave in travelling language, Or bought an elegy of his condolement ?% That th' world might have ta'en notice he had been An afs, Jt had been fome favour.
Mir. Thou fay'ft true,
Wife Andrew •, but thofe fcholars are fuch things When they can prattle !
And. Very parlous things, Sir.
Mir. And when they gain the liberty to diftinguifti The difference 'twixt a father and a fool, To look below and fpy a younger brother, Pruning and drefling up his expectations In a rare glafs of beauty, too good for him ; Thofe dreaming fcholars then turn tyrants, Andrew, And mew no mercy.
And. The more the pity, Sir.
Mir. Thou told'ft me of a trick to catch my
brother,
And anger "him a little further, Andrew. It mall be only anger, I allure thee, And a little iliame.
And. And I can fit you, Sir. Hark in your ear.
Mir. Thy wife ?
And. So, I a flu re you : This night at twelve o'clock.
Mir. 5Tis neat and handfome -, There are twenty crowns due to thy project, Andrew.
;" Or bought an elegy of his condolement] This is fpoke of Euftace, whom Angellina before attacks for hiring verfes ; but Mr. Theobald unaccountably nriltook it to be fpoke of the fchoJar Charles, and therefore read?, brought an fltgv. Seaward.
I've
THE ELDER BROTHER. 165
I've time to vifit Charles, and fee what lefture He reads to his miftrefs. That done, I'll not fail To be with you.
And. Nor I to watch my mailer. {Exeunt*
SCENE III.
Enter Angellina^ and Sylvia with a taper.
Ang. I'm worfe than e'er I was, for now I fear That that I love, that that I only dote on. He follows me through every room I pafs, And with a flrong fet eye he gazes on me, As if --a fpark of innocence were blown Into a flame of luft. Virtue defend me ! His uncle too is abfent, and 'tis night ;
And what thefe opportunities may teach him
What feat and endlefs care 'tis, to be honefl ! To be a maid, what mifery, what mifchief ! 'Would I were rid of it, fo it were fairly !
Syl. You need not fear that ; will you be a child flill ? He follows you, but flill to look upon you. Or, if he did defire to lie with you, 'Tis but your own defire ; you love for that end. I'll lay my life, if he were now a-bed w' you, He is fo modefl, he would fall afleep flraight.
Ang. Dare you venture that ?
Syl. Let him confent, and have at you. I fear him not ; he knows not what a woman is, Nor how to find the my fiery men aim at. Are you afraid of your own fhadow, madam ?
And. He follows flill, yet with a fober face. 'Would I might know the worfl, and then I were fatisfied.
Syl. You may both j8, let him but go with you.
Enter Charles. Char. Why do you fly me ? What have I fo ill
38 You may botb.~\ Mr. Theobald's edition reads, Tou may know betb ; which interpolation, we think, deftroys the Poets' meaning. Sylvia is defigned to fay, BOTH you and Charles may know the worlt.
L 3 About
166 THE ELDER BROTHER.
About me, or within me, to deferve it ?
Ang. I am going to-bed, Sir.
Char. And I am come to light you j I am a maid, and 'tis a maiden's office. You may have me to-bed without a fcruple ; And yet I am chary too who comes about me. Two innocents mould not fear one another.
Syl. The gentleman fays true. Pluck up your heart,, madam.
Char. The glorious fun, both rifing and declining, We boldly look upon j even then, fweet lady, When, like a modeft bride, he draws night's curtains ; Even then he blufhes, that men mould behold him. . Ang. I fear he will perfuade me to miftake him.
Syl. 'Tis cafily done, if you will give your mind to't.
Ang. Pray you, to your bed.
Char. Why not to yours, dear miflrefs ? One heart and one bed.
Ang. True, Sir, when 'tis lawful ; But yet, you know
Char. I would not know -9 forget it. Thofe are but fickly loves that hang on ceremony, Nurs'd up with doubts and fears -, ours high ancj
healthful,
Full of belief, and fit to teach the prieft. Love mould feal firft, then hand,s confirm the bargain.
Ang. I mall be an heretic, if this continue. What would you do a-bed ? You make me blufh, Sir.
Char. I'd fee you ileep, for, fure, your deeps are
excellent :
You, that are waking fuch a noted wonder, Muft in your {lumbers prove an admiration. I would behold your dreams too, if 'twere poflible j Thofe were rich mows.
.Ang. I am becoming traitor.
Char. Then, like blue Neptune, courting of an
ifland,
Where all the perfumes and the precious things That wait upon great nature are laid up,
THE ELDER BROTHER. 167
I'd clip you in mine arms, and chaftely kifs you ; Dwell in your bofom like your deareft thoughts, And figh and weep.
Ang. I've too much woman in me.
Char. And thofe true tears, falling on your pure
cryftals, Should turn to armlets for great queens to wear 19.
Ang. I muft be gone.
Char. Do not ; I will not hurt you. This is to let you know, my worthieft lady, You've cleared my mind, and I can fpeak of love too. Fear not my manners ; though I never knew, Before thefe few hours, what a beauty was, And fuch a one that fires all hearts that feel it -9 Yet I have read of virtuous temperance, And ftudied it among my other fecrets : And fooner would I force a fcparation Betwixt this fpirit and the cafe of flefh, Than but conceive one rudenefs againft chaftity.
Ang. Then, we may walk.
Char. And talk of any thing, Any thing fit for your ears, and my language. Though I was bred up dull, I was ever civil. *Tis true, I have found it hard to look on you, And not defire ; 'twill prove a wife man's talk •, Yet thofe delires I have fo mingled, miftrefs, And temper'd with the quality of honour, That, if you fliould yield, I mould hate you for't. I am no courtier, of a light condition,
>9 Should turn to armlets for great queens? adore.] But why fhould a queen, or lady of any other rank, adore her bracelets ? They might be very rich and finely made, and fofarto be admired and efteem'd: But to make them the fubjecl of devotion, is a rapture a little above the pitch of common fenie. For great queens to wear, is, I think, a fufficient compliment ; and fo I have vemur'd to reform the text. 'Theobald.
Is it not aftoniming, that, after this parade and this reforming the text, thefe words, to wear, appear in the edition of 1651, which Mr. Theobald often quotes, and therefore muft have feen ? Neither Mr. Seward nor Mr. Sympfon, as appears by their Poftfcript and Addenda, knew that this 'authority exifted.
L 4 Apt
i6S THE ELDER BROTHER'
Apt to take fire at every beauteous face, That only ferves his will and wantonnefs ; And lets the, ferious part of life run by, As thin neglected fand. Whitenefs of name 4", You muft be mine ! why mould I rob myfelf Of that that lawfully muft make me happy ? Why fhould I feek to cuckold my delights, And widow all thofe fweets I aim at in you ? We'll lofe ourfelves in Venus' groves of myrtle, Where every little bird mall be a Cupid, And fing of love and youth ; each wind that blows, And curls the velvet leaves, mall breed delights ; The wanton fprings mall call us to their banks, And on the perfum'd flow'rs wooe us to tumble ; Yet we'll walk by, untainted of their pleafures, And, as they were pure temples, we'll talk in them.
Ang. To-bed, and pray then, we may have a. fair .-
end
Of our fair loves. 'Would I were worthy of you, Or of fuch parents that might give you thanks ! But I am poor in all but your affections. Once more, good night !
Char. A good night t'ye, and may The dew of fleep fall gently on you, fweet one, And lock up thofe fair lights in pleafing (lumbers I No dreams but chafte and clear attempt your fancy!
40 As thin nzgletted fand. Whitenefs of name, &c.J Mr. Theobald totally mifunderftood this paflage ; and therefore pointed it thus :
And let 3 the ferious part of life run by,
As thin neglefted fandt whitenefs of name.
You mujl be mine, £c.
' The relative you, fays Mr. Seward, milled him ; he thought it related to Angellina, whereas, with infinite poetic beauty, it relates to fwbitenefs of name : The meaning of the paflage being evidently this If you fhouid yield, I fhou'd hate you ; for I am no cour tier, that gives the rein to all his wanton appetites. No ; ijvbite- nefsofname,i.e. the character and confcioufnefs of chaftity and innocence, you muft be always mine ; which I fliould forfeit eter nally, mould I debauch my miitreis before marriage, for
Why Jhould I feek to cuckold my delight*?
And widow all thoje fweets 1 aim at in you r"
And
THE ELDER BROTHER. 169
And break betimes, fweet morn ! I've loft my light
elfe.
. Ang. Let it be ever night, when I lofe you41. Syl. This fcholar never went to a free-fchool, he's fo fimple.
Enter a Servant. Ser. Your brother, with two gallants, is at the door,
Sir; And they're fo violent, they'll take no denial.
Ang. This is no time of night
Cbar. Let 'em in, miftrefs.
Ser. They ftay no leave. Shalll raifethehoufeon'em? Char* Not a man, nor make no murmur of 't, I charge you.
Enter Euftace, Egrcmont, and Cowfy. Euft. They're here ; my uncle abfent ; ftand clofc
to me.
How do you, brother, with your curious ftory ? Have you not read her yet fufficiently ?
Char. No, brother, no ; I ftay yet in the preface -9 The ftyle's too hard for you.
Euft. I muft entreat her •, She's parcel of my goods.
Cbar. She's all, when you have her. Ang. Hold off your hands, unmannerly, rude Sir; J^or I, nor what I have, depend on you.
Cbar. Do, let her alone ; me gives good counfel.
Do not
Trouble yourfelf with ladies ; they are too light ; Let out your land, and get a provident fteward. Ang. I cannot love you, let that fatisfy you ! Such vanities as you, are to be laugh'd at.
Euft. Nay then, you muft go, I muft claim mine own.
Both. Away, away with her !
Cbar. Let her alone, [Sheftrikes off Euft ace skat.
4-1 We think the Poets have not paid due regard to the delicacy of female character, in this icene of Angellina : The behaviour of Charles is admirable.
Pray
,70 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Pray ^let her alone, and take your coxcomb up. Let me talk civilly awhile with you, brother : It may be, on fome terms, I may part with her.
Euft. Oh, is your heart come down ? What are your
terms, Sir ? Put up, put up.
Char. This is the firft and chiefeft. Let's walk % turn. Now fland off, fools, I advife ye.
[Snatches away his fword. Stand as far off as you would hope for mercy. This is the firft fword yet I ever handled, And a fword's a beauteous thing to look upon, And, if it hold, I mall fo hunt your infolence ! "Tis fharp, I'm fure ; and, if I put it home, *Tis ten to one I mail new pink your fattins. I find, I have fpirit enough to difpofe of it, And will enough to make ye all examples ! Let me tofs it round •, I have the full command on't : Fetch me a native fencer, I defy him ! I feel the fire of ten flrong fpirits in me. Do you watch me when my uncle is abfent ? This is my grief, I mall be flefh'd on cowards ! Teach me to fight ; I willing am to learn. Are ye all gilded flies ? nothing but mow in ye ? Why ftand ye gaping ? Who now touches her ? Who calls her his, or who dares name her to me, But name her, as his own ? who dares look on her ? That mall be mortal too •, to think is dangerous L Art thou a fit man to inherit land. And haft no wit, nor fpirit, to maintain it ? Stand ftill, thou fign of man, and pray for thy friends j Pray heartily; good prayers may reftoreye.
Ang. Do not kill 'em, Sir.
Char. You fpeak too late, dear : It is my firft fight, and I muft do bravely •, I muft not look with partial eyes on any j I cannot fpare a button of thefe gentlemen : Did life lie in their heel, Achilles-like, I'd fhoot my anger at thofe parts, and kill 'cm.
Who
THE ELDER BROTHER. 171
Who waits within ?
Ser. Sir!
Char. View all thefe ; view 'em well ; Go round about 'em, and ftill view their faces. Round about yet •, fee how death waits upon 'em -, For thou malt never view 'em more.
'Euft. Pray hold, Sir.
Char. I cannot hold, you ftand fo fair before me ; I mutt not hold, 'twill darken all my glories. Go to my uncle, bid him poft to the king, And get my pardon inftantly •, I have need on't.
Euft. Are you fo unnatural ?
Char. You mall die laft, Sir; I'll talk thee dead, thou art no man to fight with. Come ^ will ye come? Methiriks 1 have fought whole battles !
Cow. We have no quarrel to you, that we know on, Sir.
Egre. We'll quit the houfe, and afk you mercy too* Good lady, let no murder be done here ; We came but to parly.
Char. How my fword Thirfts after them ? Stand away, fweer..
Euft. Pray, Sir, Take my fubmifiion, arid I difclaim for ever
Char. Away, ye poor, flight, defpicable creatures! Do you come poll to fetch a lady from me, From a poor fchool-boy, that ye fcorn'd of late, And grow lame in your hearts, when you mould «xe-
cute ? ' ;J\f
Pray, take her, take her ; I am weary of her ; What did ye bring to carry her ?
Egre. A coach and four horfes.
Cbar. But are they good?
Egre. As good as France can fhew, Sir.
Cbar. Are you willing to leave thofe, and take your
fafeties ? Speak quickly.
Euft. Yes, with all our hearts.
Char.
i72 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Cbar. 'Tis done then. Many have got one horfe; I've got four by th' bargain,
Enter Miramont.
Mir. How now ? who's here ?
Ser. Nay, now you're gone without bail.
Mir. What, drawn, my friends ? Fetch me my two- hand fword ! I will not leave a head on your fhoulders, wretches !
Euft. In truth, Sir, I came but to do my duty.
Both. And we to renew our loves.
Mir. Bring me a blanket. What came they for ?
Ang. To borrow me a while, Sir : But one, who never fought yet, has fo frighted 3eni, So baftinado'd them with manly carriage, They ftand like things Gorgon had turn'd to ftone. They watch'd your being abfent, and then thought They might do wonders here, and they have done fo : For, by my troth, I wonder at their coldnefs ; The nipping North, or frofts, never came near them $ St. George upon a fign would grow more fenfible : If the name of honour were for ever to be loft, Thefe were the moft fufficient men to do it In all the world, and yet they are but young. What will they rife, to ? They're as full of fire As a frozen glow-worm's tail, and mine as goodly \ Nobility and patience are match'd rarely In thefe three gentlemen ; they have right ufe on't ; They'll ftand ftill for an hour, and be beaten. Thefe are the anagrams of three great worthies.
Mir. They will infect my houfe with cowardice, If they breathe longer in it •, my roof covers No baffled monfieurs •, walk and air yourfelves ! As I live, they flay not here, white-liver'd wretches ! Without one word to afk a reafon why, Vanifh, 'tis the laft warning, and with fpeed ! For, if I take ye in hand, 1 mall difTecl: ye, And read upon your phlegmatic dull carcafles.
[Exeunt Euftace, Egremont> andCowfy.
My
THE ELDER BROTHER.
My horfe again there ! I have other bufmefs, Which you fliall hear hereafter, and laugh at it. Good night, Charles ; fair goodneis to you, dear lady, 3Tis late, 'tis late.
Ang. Pray, Sir, be careful of us.
Mir. It is enough -, my bed care fhall attend ye.
\ Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Andrew.
And. Are you come, old mafter ? Very good, your
horfe
Is well fet up ; but ere ye part, I'll ride you, And fpur your reverend jufticemip fuch a queflion 4% As I mall make the fides'o'your reputation bleed; Truly, I will. Now mufl I play at bo-peep. A banquet ? Well ! Potatoes 4\ and eringoes, And, as I take it, cantharides. Excellent! A priapifm follows ; and, as I'll handle itj It fhall, old lecherous goat in authority. Now they begin to bill. How he flavers her ! GraJ mercy, Lilly I me fpits his kifles out •, And, now he offers to fumble, me falls of, (That's a good wench) and cries, ' fair play, above- board.'
Who are they in the corner ? As I live, A covey of fidlers •, I fhall have fome mufic yet
4-1 And fpur your reverend j uftic efhip fuc b a queftion.J To fpur fuch a qtiefti0ny I think, is downright nonfenfe. The word, that I have ventured to fubftitute, gives a meaning and humour into the bargain ; jr. e. fuch an inqueft, fuch an enquiry into what you are about ; and the term is the more peculiarly proper, as connected with jufiicefiip.
Theobald.
This gentleman fays, fuck a queft on't; but to us this alteration feems puerile ; for if queft means inqueft or enquiry, furely quejlion conveys the fame fenfe.
*J Potatoes."] If the reader mould be defirous of any information why this vegetable is introduced on the prefent occafion, he may fee the fubjecl very learnedly, difcufled in the Appendix to the laft edition of Shakefpeare. /?.
At
i74 THE ELDER BROTHER.
At my making free o'th' company of homers 44. There's the comfort ^ and a fong too ! He beckons
for one.
Sure, 'tis no anthem, nor no borrowed rhymes Out of the School of Virtue. I will liflen. [A fong. This was never penn'd at Geneva j the note's too
fprightly.
So, fo, the mufic's paid for ; and now what follows ? Oh, that monfieur Miramont would but keep his word, Here were a feaft to make him fat with laughter ! At the moft, 'tis not fix minutes riding from his houfe; Nor will he break, I hope. Oh, are you come. Sir I
Enter Miramont.
The prey is in the net 45 •, and we'll break in Upon occafion.
Mir. Thou malt rule me, Andrew. Oh, th' infinite fright that will aflail this gentleman ! The quartans- tertians, and quotidians That will hang, like ferjeants, on his worfhip's moulders ! The humiliation of the fleih of this man, This grave auflere man, will be wonder'd at ! How will thofe folemn looks appear to me, And that fevere face, that fpake chains and mackles. Now I take him in the nick, ere I have done with him ? He'd better have ftood between two panes 46 of wainfcot,
44 My making free o'th'' company of homers.] This word mufl fignify planters of horns, cuckold-makers ; but this was not Andrew's cafe, he was to be dubb'd a cuckold', and therefore, confequently, to be made free of the company of hornd ones* Theobald.
Mr. Theobald reads, hornd ones. This is one of the fineft Arokes of verbal criticifm we recolleft. If Andrew had any kind of deal ing with horns, he commenced horntr.
4-5 fhe prey is in the net, and will break in
Upon occafion.'] If the prey was already in the net, where was it to break into ? Andrew means, that he and Miramont would break in, and furprize it. Mr. Seward faw with me, that the flight altera tion made, was quite neceffary to the fenfe. Theobald.
4J Tivo panes of<uiat*fc«t.l Some of the old writers uk fane and pannel indifcriminately ; both are deduced from the French word faneau. We ftill fay, * pane of glafs.1
And
THE ELDER BROTHER. 175
And made his recantation in the market, Than hear me conjure him.
And. He muft pafs this way, To th' only bed I have. He comes ; {land clofe.
Enter Brifac and Lilly.
Bri. Well done, well done-, give me my night*
cap. So !
Quick, quick, untrufs mej I will trufs and trounce thee! Come, wench, a kifs between each point ; kifs clofe •, It is a fweet parenthefis.
Lil. You're merry, Sir.
Bri. Merry I will be anon, and thou malt feel it, Thoufhalt, my Lilly.
Lil. Shall I air your bed, Sir ?
Bri. No, no, I'll ufe no warming-pan but thine,
girl ; That's all. Come, kifs me again.
Lil. Ha' you done yet ?
Bri. No -9 but I will do, and do wonders, Lilly. Shew me the way.
Lil. You cannot mifs it, Sir. You (hall have a caudle in the morning, for Your worfhip's breakfaft.
Bri. How ? i'th* morning, Lilly ? Thou'rt fuch a witty thing, to draw me on. Leave fooling, Lilly ; I am hungry now, And th'haft another kickfhaw ; I muft tafte it.
Lil. 'Twill make you furfeit, I am tender of you ; You've all you're like to have.
And. Can this be earneft ?
Mir. It feems fo, and fhe honeft.
Bri. Have I not Thy promife, Lilly ?
Lil. Yes i and I've perform'd Enough to a man of your years : This is truth, And you mail find, Sir. You have kifs'd and tous'd
me,
Handled my leg and foot : What would you more, Sir ?
As
176 THE ELDER BROTHER.
As for the reft, it requires youth and ftrength, And the labour in an old man would breed aches 47^ Sciaticas, and cramps ; you mail not curfe me, For taking from you what you cannot fpare, Sir. Be good unto yourfelf -9 you've ta'en already All you can take with eafe ; you are pad threihing, It is a work too boifterous for you ; leave Such drudgery to Andrew.
Mir. How me jeers him ?
Lil. Let Andrew alone with his own tillage* He's tough, and can manure it.
Bri. You're a quean, A fcoffing jeering quean \
Lil. It may be fo, but, I'm fure, I'll ne'er be yours.
Bri. Do not provoke me •, If thou doft, I'll have my farm again, and turn Thee out a-begging.
Lil. Though you have the will, And want of honelty, to deny your deed, Sir, Yet, I hope, Andrew has got fo much learning From my young mafter, as to keep his own.
And. I warrant thee, wench.
Lil. At the worft, I'll tell a mart tale to the judges, For what grave ends you fign'd your ieafe, and on What terms you would revoke it.
Bri. Whore, thou dar'ft not !
Yield, or 1*11 have thee whipp'd. How my blood boils, As if 'twere o'er a furnace !
Mir. I mail cool it.
Bri. Yet, gentle Lilly, pity and forgive me ! I'll be a friend to you, fuch a loving bountiful friend —
Lil. To avoid fuits in law, I would grant a little ;
47 And the labour in an old man would breed agues.] But will la bour in any cafe breed agues, unlcfs a man gets a violent cold after it ? Aches , which 1 have fubftituted, correfponds with the attendant words, j^iaticaiy and cramps. So, in the Knight of Malta ;
- — • - Share her among ye ;
And may Jhe give you as many hurts as lba<ve, And twice AS rna?/y aches !
But
T«E ELDER BROTHER. 177
But fhould fierce Andrew know it, what would become Of me ?
And. A whore, a whore ! Bri. Nothing but well, wench : I will put fuch a ftrong bit in his mouth, As thou malt ride him how thou wilt, my Lilly : Nay, he mail hold the door, as I will, work him, And thank thee for the office. Mir. Take heed, Andrew ; Thefe are fhrewd temptations.
And. Pray you, know Your cue, and fecond me, Sir. — By your worlhip's
favour ! Bri. Andrew !
And. I come in time to take pofleflion Of th9 office you afiign me ; hold the door ! Alas, 'tis nothing for a fimple man To flay without, when a deep, underflanding Holds conference within ; fay, with his wife : A trifle, Sir. I know I hold my farm In cuckold's tenure ; you are lord o'ths foil, Sir : Lilly is a weft, a ftray; Ihe's yours to ufe, Sir, I claim no interefl in her. Bri. Art thou ferious ?
Speak, honefl Andrew, fince thou haft o'erheard us, And wink at fmall faults, man ; I'm but a pidler, A little will ferve my turn; thou'lt find enough, When I've my belly full : Wilt thou be private And filent ?
And. By all means ; I'll only have A ballad made of 't, fung to ibme lewd tune, And the name of it mall be the Juftice Trap : It will fell rarely with your worfhip's nailie, ' And Lilly's, on the top. Bri. Seek not the ruin O' my reputation, Andrew.
And. 'Tis for your credit •, Monfieur Brifac, printed in capital letters, Then palled upon all the pofls in Paris. VOL. II. M Sri.
,;8 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Bri. No mercy, Andrew ?
And. Oh, it will proclaim you From th' city to the court, and prove fport-royal.
Bri. Thou malt keep thy farm.
Mir. He does afflict him rarely.
And. You trouble me. Then his intent arriving, The vizard of his hypocrify pull'd off To the judge criminal
Bri. Oh, I am undone.
And. He's put out of commifllon with difgrace, And held uncapable of bearing office Ever hereafter. This is my revenge, And this I'll put in practice.
Bri. Do but hear me.
And. To bring me back from my grammar to my
' horn-book ! It is unpardonable.
Bri. Do not play the tyrant ^ Accept of compofition.
Lit. Hear him, Andrew.
And. What compofition ?
Bri. I'll confirm thy farm, And add unto't an hundred acres more, Adjoining to it.
And. Hum ! this mollifies. But you're fo fickle, and will again deny this, There being no witnefs by.
Bri. Call any witnefs, I'll prefently allure it.
And. Say you fo ?
Troth, there's a friend of mine, Sir, within hearing, That is familiar with all that's paft -, , His teftimony will be authentical.
Sri. Will he be fecret ?
And. You may tie his tongue up, As you would do your purfe-ilrings.
Sri. Miramont!
Mir. Ha, ha, ha!
And. This is my witnefs. Lord, how you are troubled !
Sure
THE ELDER BROTHER. 179
Sure you've an ague, you fhake fo with choler. He's your loving brother, Sir, and will tell nobody, But all he meets, that you have eat a fnake, And are grown young, gamefome, and rampant. Bri. Caught thus ?
And. If he were one that would make jefts of you, Or plague you with making your religious gravity Ridiculous to your neighbours, then you had Some canfe to be perplex'd.
Bri. I mail become Difcourfe for clown., and tapfters.
And. Quick, Lilly, quick ! He's now paft killing between point and point ; He fwoons, fetch him fome cordial. Now put in, Sir.
Mir. Who may this be ? Sure, this is fome miftake. Let me fee his face -, wears he not a falfe beard ? It cannot be Brifac, that worthy gentleman, The pillar, and the patron, of his country ; He is too prudent, and too cautelous •, Experience hath taught him to avoid thefe fooleries. He is the punifher, and not the doer ; Befides he's old and cold, unfit for women : This is fome counterfeit ; he mail be whipp'd for't ; Some bafe abufer of my worthy brother.
Bri. Open the doors ! will y' imprifon me ? Are ye my judges?
Mir. The man raves ! This is not judicious Brifac. Yet, now I think on't, a' has a kind of dog- look Like my brother ; a guilty hanging face.
Bri. I'll fuffer bravely ; do your worft, do, do !
Mir. Why, it's manly in you.
Bri. Nor will I rail, nor curfe. You fiave, you whore, I will not meddle with you -9 But all the torments that e'er fell on men That fed on mifchief, fail heavily on you all ! [Exit.
Lil. You have giv'n him a heat, Sir.
Mir. He will ride you the better, Lilly.
And. We'll teach him to meddle with us fcholars.
Mr. He mall make good his promife t' encreafe thy farm. Andrew,
180 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Or Pll jeer him to death. Fear nothing, Lilly ; I am thy champion. This jeft goes to Charles ; And then I'll hunt him out, and monfieur Euftace, The gallant courtier, and laugh heartily To fee 'em mourn together.
And. 'Twill be rare, Sir. [Exeunt
ACT V. SCENE I.
i
Enter Euftace, Egremont^ and Cowjy.
Euft. ripURNT) out of doors, and baffled I
Egre. We mare with you In the affront.
Cow. Yet bear it not like you, With fuch dejection.
Euft. My coach and horfes made The ranfom of our cowardice!
Cow. Pirn, that's nothing ; 'Tis damnum reparabile, and loon recover'd.
Egre. It is but feeding a fuitor with falfe hopes, And after fqueeze him with a dozen of oaths, You are new rigg'd, and this no more remember'd.
Euft. And does the court, that mould be the example And oracle of the kingdom, read to iis No other doctrine ?
Egre. None that thrives fo well As that, within my knowledge.
Cow. Flatt'ry rubs on48;
But fmce great men learn to admire themfelves, 'Tis fomething creft- fallen.
Egre. To be of no religion
48 Flatt'ry rubs out;] This is a flight typographical error,
which turns into obfcurity a paflage of great wit and humour. We mull rest!, on ; Flattery makes a fhift to rub on at court ; tho' it is fomewhat creft- fallen, fince great men have learned to admire them felves. Seaward.
Argues
THE ELDER BROTHER. 181
Argues a fubtile moral underftanding, And it is often cherifh'd.
Euft. Piety then,
And valour, nor to donor fuffer wrong, Are there no virtues ?
'Egre. Rather vices, Euftace. Fighting ! what's fighting ? It may be in famion Among Frovant fwords, and buff-jerkin men : But w' us, that iwim in choice of filks and tiffues, Though in defence of that word reputation, Which is, indeed, a kind of glorious nothing, To lofe a drachm of blood mult needs appear As coarfe as to be honeft.
Euft. And all this you ferioufly believe ?
Cow.c It is a faith
That we will die in •, fmce, from the blackguard To the grim Sir in office, there are few Hold other tenets.
Euft. Now my eyes are open ; And I behold a ftrong neceffity, That keeps me knave and coward.
Cow. You're the wifer.
Euft. Nor can I change my copy, if 1 purpofe To be of your fociety ?
Egre. By no means.
Euft. Honour is nothing with you ?
Cow. A meer bubble ; For, what's grown common is no more regarded.
Euft. My fword forc'd from me too, and ftilldetain'd, You think, Js no blemim ?
Egre. Get me a battoon •, *Tis twenty times more court-like, and lefs trouble.
Euft. And yet you wear a fword.
Cow. Yes, and a good one, A Milan hilt, and a Damafco blade •, For ornament, not ufe -, the court -allows it.
Euft. Will't not fight of itfelf?
Cow. I ne'er try'd this. Yet I have worn as fair as any man ;
M 3 I'm
i82 THE ELDER BROTHER. I'm fare, I've made my cutler rich, and paid For feveral weapons, Turldfh and Toledos, Two thousand crowns ; and yet could never light Upon a fighting one.
Euft. I'll borrow this ^ I like it well.
Cow. 'Tis at your fervice, Sir ; A lath in a velvet fcabbard will ierve my turn.
Euft. And now I have it, leave me ! Ye're infectious, The plague and leprofy of your bafenefs fpreading. On all that do come near you ; fuch as you Render the throne of majefty, the court, Sufpedted and contemptible ! You are fcarabes 49, That batten in her dung, and have no palates To tafte her curious viands ; and, like owls, Can only fee her night-deformities, But, with the glorious fplendor of her beauties, You are ftruck blind as moles, that undermine The fumptuous building that allow'd you fhelter I You flick, like running ulcers, on her face, And taint the purenefs of her native candor ; And, being bad fervants, caufeyour mailer's goodnefe To be difputed of ! Make you the court, That h the abftract of all academies To teach and praclife noble undertakings, (Where Courage fits triumphant, crown'd with laurel, And Wifdom, loaded with the weight of honour) A fchool of vices ?
Egre. What fudden rapture's this ?
Euft: A heav'nly one, That, raifing me from (loth and ignorance, (In which your converfation long hath charm'd me) Carries me up into the air of action, And knowledge of myielf. Even now I feel, But pleading only in the court's defence,
4-1 YouGre-fezm.bes.'] A fpecies of beetles, bred in dung and
corrupted filth. Subtle, in the Alchymift, quarreling with Face, calls Mim. fcarabe ; which he afterwards explains, hy adding, ' Thou ver- min, have J ta'cn thee out of dungS R-
Though
THE ELDER BROTHER. 183
Though far fhort of her merits and bright luftre, A happy alteration, and full ftrength To fland her champion againfl all the world That throw afperfions on her.
Cow. Sure, he'll beat us ; I fee it in his eyes.
Egre. A fecond Charles ! Pray look not, Sir, fo furioufly.
Euft. Recant
What you have faid, ye mungrils ! and lick up The vomit you have caft upon the court, Where you, unworthily, have had warmth and breed ing;
And fwear that you, like fpiders, have made poifon Of that which was a faving antidote !
Egre. We will fwear any thing.
Cow. We honour the court 'As a moft facred place.
Egre. And will make oath, If you enjoin us to't, nor knave, nor fool, Nor coward, living in it.
Euft. Except you two, You rafcals !
Cow. Yes ; we are all thefe, and more, If you will have it fo.
Euft. And that, until
You are again reform'd, and grown new men, You ne'er prefume to name the court, or prefs Into the porter's lodge, but for a penance, To be difciplin'd for your roguery •, and, this done, With true contrition
Both. Yes, Sir.
Euft. You again May eat fcraps, and be thankful.
Cow. Here's a cold breakfaft, After a lharp night's walking !
Euft. Keep your oaths, And without grumbling vanifh.
Both. We are gone, Sir. [Exeunt.
M 4 Euft.
iS4 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Euft. May all the poornefs of my fpirit go with you f The fetters of my thraldom are fil'd oft, And I at liberty to right myfdf ; And though my hope in Angelina's little, My honour, unto which compar'd fhe's nothing, Shall, like the fun, difperfe thole low'ring clouds, That yet obfcure and dim it. Not the name Of Brother mall divert me, but from him, That in the world's opinion ruin'd me, I will feek reparation, and call him Unto a ftricT: account. Ha ! 'tis near day ; And if the mufe's friend, rofe-cheek'd Aurora, Invite him to this folitary grove, As I much hope me will, he feldorn miffing To pay his vows here to her, I (hall hazard To hinder his devotions. The door opens.
Enter Charles.
'Tis he, mod certain ; and by's fide my fword. Bleft opportunity !
Char. I have o'erflept myfelf, And loft part of the morn ; but I'll recover it. Before I went to bed, I wrote fome notes Within my table-book, which I'll now confider. Ha ! what means this ? what do I with a fword ? Learn'd Mercury needs not th' aid of Mars, and in nocence
Is to itfelf a guard : Yet, fmce arms ever Protect arts, I may juftly wear and ufe it *, For, fince 'twas made my prize, I know not how, I'm grown in love with't, and cannot eat, nor ftudy, And much lefs walk, without it. But I trifle; Matters of more weight afk my judgment.
Eufl. None, Sir :
Treat of no other theme •, I'll keep you to it ; And fee y' expound it well.
Char. Euftace !
Euft. The fame, Sir •, Your younger brother, who, as duty binds him,
Hath
THE ELDER BROTHER. 185
Hath all this night (turn'd out of doors) attended, To bid good-morrow t' you.
Char. This, not in fcorn, Commands me to return it. Would you aught elfe ?
Euft. Oh, much, Sir j here I end not, but begin. I muil fpeak to you in another (train Than yet I ever us'cl j and if the language Appear in the delivery rough and harfh, You, being my tutor, muft condemn yourfelf9 From whom I learn'd it.
Char. When I underPcand,
Be't in what flyle you pleafe, what's your demand I fhall endeavour, in the felf-fame phrafe, To make an anfwer to the point.
Euft. I come not
To lay claim to your birth-right, 'tis your own, And 'tis fit you enjoy it ; nor afk I from you Your learning and deep knowledge : Tho' I am not A fcholar, as you are, I know them diamonds, By your fole induftry, patience, and labour, Forc'cl from fteep rocks, and with much toil attained, And but to few, that prize their value, granted ; And therefore, without rival, freely wear them.
Char. Thefe not repin'd at, as you feem tj inform me, The motion muil be of a itrange condition, If I refufe to yield to't ; therefore, Euilace, Without this tempeft in your looks, propound it, And fear not a denial.
Euft. I require then, (As from an enemy, and not a brother) The reputation of a man, the honour, Not by a fair war won when I was waking, But in my fleep of folly ravim'd from me ! With theie, the reftitution of my fword, With large acknowledgment of fatisfaclion, My coach, my horles •, I will part with life, Ere lofe one hair of them ; and, what concludes all, My miftrefs Angellina, as me was Before the mufical magic of thy tongue
Enchanted
i26 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Enchanted and feduc'd her. Thefe performed, And with fubmiffion, and done publicly, At my father's and my uncle's intercefliort, (That I put in too) I, perhaps, may liflen To terms of reconcilement j but if thefe In every circumflance are not fubfcrib'd to, To th* laft gafp I defy thee.
Cbar. Thefe are ftridt Conditions to a brother.
Euft. My reit is up s°, Nor will I give lefs.
Cbar. I'm no gamefter, Eullace ; Yet I can guefs, your resolution flands / To win or lofe all ; I rejoice to find you Thus tender of your honour, and that at length You underiland what a wretched thing you were * How deeply wounded by yourfelf, and made Almoft incurable, in your own hopes •, The dead flelh of pale cowardice grown over Your fefter'd reputation, which no balm Or gentle unguent ever could make way to. And I am happy, that I was the furgeon, That did apply thofe burning corrofives, That render you already fenfible O5 th' danger you were plung'd in ; teaching yon, And by a fair gradation, how far, And with what curious refpedl and care The peace and credit of a man within
5° My reft is up.] The word reft is frequently employed by the old dramatic writers, and is commonly an aliufion to the manner of firing the barquebufs. This, fays Mr. Steevens, was fo heavy a gun, that the foldiers were obliged to carry a fupporter, called a reft, which they fixed on the ground before they levelled to take aim. Decker ufes it in his comedy of Old For tunatus, 1600. * Set your heart at reft ; ' for I hzvefet up my reft, that u.'lefs you run fwifter than a hart, home * you go not.' See alfo Romeo and Juliet, aft iv. fc. v. R.
Reft, in this place, feems to allude to foine game, like the modern hazard. The fpeech of Euftace and anfwer of Charles cannot well bear any other fenfe : Nor will 1 give lefs — fm no gameiler — Your refolution jlands to win or lofe all. Some copies read, Nor will I go lefs.
(Which
THE ELDER BROTHER. 187
(Which you ne'er thought 'till now) fhould be pre-
ferr'd
Before a gaudy outfide. Pray you, fix here •» For fo far I go with you.
Etxft. This difcourfe Is from the fubject.
Cbar. I'll come to it, brother -, Eut if you think to build upon my ruins, You'll find a falfe foundation : Your high offers* Taught by the mailers of dependencies 5I, That, by compounding differences 'tween others, Supply their own necefiities, with me Will never carry't. As you are my brother, I would difpenfe a little, but no more Than honour can give way to ; nor mufl I Deilroy that in myfelf I love in you : And therefore let not hopes nor threats perfuade you I will defcend to any compofition, For which I may be cenfur'd.
Euft. You (hall fight then.
Cbar. With much unwillingnefs with you \ but if There's no evafion
Euft. None.
Char. Hear yet a word : As for the fword, and other fripperies, In a fair way fend for them, you fhall have *em -? But rather than furrender Angeliina, Or hear it again mention'd, I oppofe My breaft unto loud thunder •, caft behind me All ties of nature !
Euft. She detained, I'm deaf To ail perfuafion.
Char. Guard thyfelf then, Euftace ! I ufe no other rhetoric.
S1 faugh by the maflcrs cf dependencies.] Mr. WhalJe£, in his notes on lien Jonfon, fays, « defendant, when the fighting fyftem f was in vogue, iigmfied the grounder caufe of quarrel. The ' reader may fee the dodtrine hutnouroufly explain'd in the Devil ' is an Als, aft iii.' It is alfo mentioned in the New Jnn, and Every Man in his Humour, by the fame author j and is fully ex plained by Caranza, in his Treatife on Duelling. R.
Enter
188 THE ELDER BROTHER;
Enter Miramont.
Mir. Claming of fwords
So near my houie ! Brother oppos'd to brother ! Here is no fencing at half fword. Hold, hold ! Charles! Euftace !
Ettft. Second him, or call in more help. Come not between us -9 I'll not know, nor fpare you ! D'ye fight by th' book ?
Char. 5Xis you that wrong me. Off, Sir ! And fuddenly I'll conjure down the fpirit That I have raifed in him.
Euft. Never, Charles, 'Till thine, and in thy death, be doubled in me.
Mir. Pm out of breath 5 yet truft not too much to't, boys •,
For if you paufe not fuddenly, and hear reafon *
Do, kill your uncle,, do ! But that Pm patient,
And not a choleric old tefty fool,
Like your father, Pd dance a mattachin with you 5%
Should make you fweat your beft blood for't ; I would,
And it may be I will. Charles, I command thee •,
And, Euftace, I entreat thee ! thou'rt a brave ipark,
A true tough-metal'd blade, and I begin
To love thee heartily. Give me a fighting courtier,
I'll cherim him for example •, in our age
They're not born every day.
Char. You of late, Sir, In me lov'd learning.
Mir. True j but take me w'ye, Charles ; 'Twas when young Euftace wore his heart in's breeches, And fought his battles in compliments and cringes ; - When's underftanding wav'd in a flaunting feather, And his beft contemplation look'd no further Than a new-fafhion'd doublet. I confcfs, then,
5J FA dance a mattachin <ivitoyoii.~\ This was a dance, as Skinner tells us in his Etymologician9 cf great rapidity, fo call'd from the Ita lian word tnatto, a fool or madman : becaufe the performers of it ufed rpany frantic geiticulations : And Ferrarius, in his Origines Lingua* :, gives us much the fame defcripdon of it. Theobald.
The
THE ELDER BROTHER. 189
The lofty noife your Greek made, only pleas'd me ;
But, now he's turnM an Oliver and a Rowland
(Nay, the whole dozen of peers are bound up in him) Let me remember ! when I was of his years, I did look very like him ; and, did you fee My picture as I was then, you would fwear That gallant Eultace (I mean, now he dares fight) Was the true fubflance and the perfect figure. Nay, nay, no anger ; you mail have enough, Charles.
Char. Sure, Sir, I mall not need addition fr®m him.
Euft. Nor I from any ; this mall decide my intereft ! Though I am loft to all deferving men, To all that men call good, for fufPring tamely InfufFerable wrongs, and juftly flighted, By yielding to a minute of delay In my revenge, and from that made a ft ranger Unto my father's houfe and favour, o'erwhelm'd With all difgraces ; yet I will mount upward, And force myfelf a fortune, though my birth And breeding do deny it !
*Cbar. Seek not, Euftace, By violence, what will be offer'd to you On eafier compofition. Though I was not Allied unto your weaknefs, you fhall find me A brother to your bravery of fpirit ; And one that, not compell'd to't by your fword, (Which I muft never fear) will mare with you In all but Angellina.
Mir. Nobly faid, Charles ;
And learn from my experience, you may hear reafon, And never maim your fighting. For your credit, Which you think you have loft, fpare Charles; and
fwinge me,
And foundly, three or four walking velvet cloaks, That wear not fwords to guard 'em si, yet deferve it,
Thou
Spare Charles, and f-winge me,
dnd foundly, three or four walking velvet cloaks,
lhat 'wear no f*words to guard ''em j How wouJd Euflace give
proof of his valour, by beating chreeor four beaux who had no fwocds
to
1 90 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Xhou art made up again.
Euft. All this is lip-falve.
Mir. It mall be heart's-eafe, Euftace, ere I have
done.
As for thy father's anger, now thou dar'fl fight, Ne'er fear't -, for I've the dowcets of his gravity Fall in a firing, and will fo pinch and wring him, That, fpite of his authority, thou malt make Thine own conditions with him.
Euft. I'll take leave A little to confider.
Char. Here comes Andrew.
Enter Andrew.
Mir. But without his comical and learned face. What fad difafter, Andrew ?
And. You may read, Sir, A tragedy in my face.
Mir. Art thou in earneft ?
And. Yes, by my life, Sir ; and if now you help not, And fpeedily, by force or by perfuafion, My good old mailer (for now I pity him) Is ruin'd for ever.
Char. Ha ! my father ?
And. He, Sir.'
Mir. By what means ? fpeak.
And. At the fuit of monfieur Lewis, His houfe is feiz'd upon, and he in perfon
to defend themfelves with ? The meaning undoubtedly is, who wear fwords for ornament, and not for ufe, as Cowfy above fays, he does ; and that the court allows it. Put net for no, and it will give this fenfe : Only it will ilill remain capable of the former. I would therefore read,
That wear fwords not to guard them, &c. Seward.
We believe Mr. SewarJ perfedly right in altering no to not ; but why tranfpofe? He feems defirous ofeitablifhing a double entendre ; which his tranfpofaion entirely deftroys. Our reading is nearer the old text ; while, taken in either fenfe, the meaning may be faid to be void of ambiguity :
That war wtifaords to guard them.
h
THE ELDER BROTHER. 191
Is under guard (I faw it with thefe eyes, Sir) To be convey'd to Paris, and there fentenc'd.
Mir. Nay, then there is no jefting.
Char. Do I live, And know my father injur'd ?
And. And what's worfe, Sir, My lady Angellina
Euft. What of her?
And. She's carried away too.
Mir. How?
And. While you were abfent, A crew of monfieur Lewis's friends and kinfmen By force brake in at th' back part of the houfe, And took her away by violence. Faithful Andrew (As this can witnefs for him) did his befl In her defence ; but 'twould not do.
Mir. Away,
And fee our horfes faddled ! 'tis no time To talk, but do. Euftace, you now are offer'd A fpacious field, and in a pious war, To exercife your valour ; here's a caufe, And fuch a one, in which to fall is honourable, Your duty and reverence due to a father's name Commanding it : But thefe unnatural jars, Arifing between brothers, fliould you profper, Would fhame your victory.
Euft. I would do much, Sir ; JBut flill, my reputation
Mir. Charles mail give you All decent fatisfaction j nay, join hands, And heartily. Why, this is done like brothers -9 And old as I am, in this caufe that concerns The honour of our family, monfieur Lewis, _ If reafon cannot work, mall find and feel There's hot blood in this arm ; I'll lead you bravely.
Euft. And if I follow not, a coward's name Be branded on my forehead !
Char. This fpirit makes you A fharer in my fortunes.
Mir.
j92 THE ELDER BROTHER.
Mir. And in mine ;
Of which (Brifac once freed, and Angellina Again in our pofTefiion) you fhall know My heart fpeaks in my tongue.
Euft. I dare not doubt it, Sir. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Lewis^ Brifac^ Angellina^ Sylvia, and officers.
Lew. Pm deaf to all perfuafion.
Bri. I ufe none \
Nor doubt I, though a while my innocence fuffers, But, when the king fhall underftand how falfely Your malice hath inform'd him, he in juflice Mufl fet me right again.
Ang. Sir, let not pafiion So far transport you as to think in reafon, This violent courfe repairs, but rather ruins, That honour you would build up : You deftroy What you would feem to nourim. If refpect Of my preferment, or my reputation, May challenge your paternal love and care, Why do you, now good fortune has provided A better hufband for me than your hopes Could ever fancy, drive to rob me of him ? In what is my love Charles defective, Sir ? Unlefs deep learning b^ a blemifh in him, Or well-proportion'd limbs be mulcts in nature, Or, what you only aim'd at, large revenues, Are on the fudden grown diitafteful to you, Of what can you accufe him ?
Lew. Of a rape
Done to honour, which thy ravenous lull Made thee confent to.
SyL Her luft ! You are her father.
Lew. And you her bawd.
SyL Were you ten lords, 'tis falfe ; The purenefs of her chafte thoughts entertains not Such fpotted inftruments.
Ang.
THE ELDER BROTHER. i93
Aug. As I have a foul, Sir
Lew. I am not to be alter'd ! To fit down With this difgrace would argue me a peafant, And not born noble : All rigour that the law, .^ ;
And that encreafe of pow'r by favour yields, Shall be with all feverity inflicted ; You have the king's hand for't ; no bail will ferve, And therefore at your perils, officers, away with 'em.
Bri. This is madneis.
Lew. Tell me fo in open court, And there I'll anfwer you.
Enter Miramont, Charles, Euftace, and Andrew. Mir. Well overtaken. Char. Kill, if they dare refill ! Euft. He that advances But one ftep forward, dies. Lew. Shew the king's writ.
O
Mir. Shew your diicretion -9 'twill become you better.
Char. You're once more in my power ; and if again I part with you, let me for ever lofe thee ! \^To Angel.
Euft. Force will not do't, nor threats -, accept this
fervice From your defpair'd-of Euftace.
And. And beware,
Your reverend worfhip never more attempt To fearch my lilly-pot ; you fee what follows.
Lew. Is the king's pow'r contemn'd ?
Mir. No, but the torrent
Of your wilful folly ftopp'd. And for you, good Sir, If you would but be feniible, what can you wilh, But the fatisfaction of an obftinate will, That is not tender'd to you -, rather than Be crofs'd in what you purpos'd, you'll undo Your daughter's fame, the credit of your judgment, And your old foolifh neighbour ! make your ftates, And in a fuit not worth a cardecue s4, A prey to advocates, .and their buckram fcribes •,
54 not worth a caidecae ] We have made an Englifh •
word of this from n corruption of the French, un quart <T ecu, i. c. the fourth part of a French crown. Theobald.
VOL. II. N And
i94 THE ELDER BROTHER.
And after they have plum'd ye, return home, Like a couple of naked fowls, without a feather.
Char. This is a mod ftrong truth, Sir.
Mir. No, no, monfieur,
Let us be right Frenchmen •, violent to charge, But, when our follies are repell'd by reaion, 'Tis fit that we retreat, and ne'er come on more. Obferve my learn'd Charles •, he'll get thee a nephew On Angellina, mail difpute in her belly, And fuck the nurfe by logick. And here's Euflace ; He was an afs, but now is grown an Amadis -, Nor mail he want a wife, if all my land For a jointure can effect it. You're a good lord. And of a gentle nature ; in your looks I fee a kind confent, and it mews lovely. And, do you hear, old fool ?
Bri. Your brother, Sir.
Mr. But I'll not chide •, Hereafter, like me, ever dote on learning \ The mere belief is excellent, 'twill fave you. And next, love valour j though you dare not fight Yourfelf, or fright a foolim officer, young Euftace Can do it to a hair. And to conclude, Let Andrew's farm b' increas'd, that is your penance, You know for what -9 and fee you rut no more, You underftand me. So, embrace on all lides. I'll pay thofe billmen, and make large amends ; Provided we preferve you ilill our friends.
[Exeunt omnes.
THE EPILOGUE.
snniS not the hands, or fmiles, or common way
JL Of approbation to a well-lik'd play, We only hope ; but that you freely would, To th' Author's memory, fo far unfold, . And (hew your loves and liking to his wit, Not in your praife, but often feeing it -, That being the grand affurance, that can give The poet and the player means to live.
THE
THE
SPANISH CURATE,
COMEDY.
*The Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Lovelace attribute this Comedy wholly to Fletcher ; but we fee no more reafonfor ajfign- ing this Play to him exclufifvelyy than any other publijhed in the joint names of him and Beaumont. The folio of \ 647 contains the fir ft printed copy. The Spanifo Curate was revived at Drury-Lane Theatre in 1749 ; hut it has not been performed for many years paft* Dryden (in his Spanijh Fryar) andCongreeve (in his Old Batchelor) are greatly indebted to the Comedy now before us ; and itfeems 'very evident, that it afforded fame material hints towards framing a mufical entertainment, of a modern date, called the Padlock,
N 2 THE
THE PROLOGUE,
TO tell ye, gentlemen, we have a play, A new one too, and that 'tis launch'd to-day, The name ye know, that's nothing to my ftory -, To tell ye, 'tis familiar, void of glory, Of Hate, of bitternefs — of wit, you'll fay, For that is now held wit that tends that way, Which we avoid. To tell ye too, 'tis merry, And meant to make you pleafant, and not weary : The ftreams that guide ye, eafy to attend : To tell ye, that 'tis good, is to no end, If you believe not. Nay, to go thus far, To fwear it, if you fwear againft, is war. To allure you any thing, unlefs you fee, And fo conceive, is vanity in me; Therefore I leave it to itfelf ; and pray, Like a good bark, it may work out to day, And Hem all doubts ; 'twas built for fuch a proof. And we hope highly : If (he lie aloof For her own vantage, to give wind at will, Why, let her work, only be you but ftill, And fweet-opinion'd •, and we are bound to fay. You're worthy judges, and you crown the play.
N 3 DRAMATIS
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
MEN.
Don Henrique, an uxorious lord, cruel to his brother. Don Jamie, younger brother to don Henrique. Bartolus, a covetous lawyer, hufband to Amaranta. Leandro, a gentleman who wantonly loves the lawyer's
wife. Angelo'
Milanes, / three gentlemen, friends to Leandro. Arfenio, j
Afcanio, fon to don Henrique. Q&avio, fuppofed hufband to Jacintha. Lopez, the Spanijh Curate. Diego, his fexton. Afiiftant, which we call a judge. Algaziers, whom we callferjeants. Four Par i/hioners. Apparitor, Singers, Servants.
WOMEN.
Violante, fuppofed wife to don Henrique. Jacintha, formerly contracted to don Henrique. Arharanta, wife to Bartolus. A Woman Moor, fervant to Amaranta.
• SCENE, SPAIN.
1 dngelo.'] This chara&er, Mr. Theobald, with a freedom un known to any Editors but thofe of Beaumont and Fletcher's Works in 1750, expunges from the drama ; and yet he fuffers the name Angelo to remain to thofe fpeeches which are allotted to him in the play.
THE
THE
SPANISH CURATE,
'
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Angdo^ Milanes, and Arfenio.
Arfenio. T E ANDRO paid ail.
Mil. "Pis his ufual cuflom, * J And requifite he fhould. He has now
put off
The funeral black your rich heir wears with joy, When he pretends to weep for his dead father'. Your gathering fires fo long heap muck together, That their kind fons, to rid them of their care, Wifh them in Heav'n ; or, if they take a tafte Of Purgatory by the way, it matters not, Provided they remove hence. What is befal'n To his father in the other world, I afk not ;
'He has now put off
'The funeral black (your rich hfir wean <vcith joy,
When he pretends to iveepforhis dead father."] This fen-
timent is fhadow'd out from one of the feled fentences of Seneca,
and Fubl. Syrus.
Hatred is fletusya£ perfona rifus eft.
Which Ben Jonfon has thus very clofely tranflated, in his Fox. Tut ! forget,
7k e weeping of an hQirfiouldftill be laughter,
Under a vifor. Theobald.
N 4 1 am
200 THE SPANISH CURATE.
I am fure his prayer is heard. 'Would I could ulc
one For mine, in the fame method.
Arf. Fy upon thee ! This is profane.
Mil. Good doctor, do not fchool me For a fault you are not free from. On my life, Were all heirs in Corduba put to their oaths, They would confefs, with me, 'tis a found tenet : I'm fure Leandro does.
Arf. He is the owner Of a fair eftate.
Mil. And fairly he deferves it •, He's a royal fellow ; yet obferves a mean In all his courfes, careful too on whom He mowers his bounties. He that's liberal To all alike, may do a good by chance, But never out of judgment. This invites The prime men of the city to frequent All places he reforts to, and are happy In his fweet converfe.
Arf. Don Jamie, the brother
To the grandee don Henrique, appears much taken With his 'behaviour.
Mil. There is fomething more in't : He needs his purfe, and knows how to make ufe on't. 'Tis now in famion for your Don, that's poor, To vow all leagues of friendfhip with a merchant That can fupply his wants ; and, howfoe'er Don Jamie's noble born, his elder brother Don Henrique rich, and his revenues long fince Encreas'd by marrying with a wealthy heir, Call'd madam Violante, he yet holds A hard hand over Jamie, allowing him A bare annuity only.
Arf. Yet, 'tis faid,
He hath no child ; and, by the laws of Spain, If he die without iflue, don Jamie Inherits his eftate.
Mil.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 201
Mil. Why, that's the reafon Of their fo many jars. Though the young lord Be fick of th' elder brother, and in reafon Should flatter and obferve him ; he's of a nature Too bold and fierce to ftoop fo, but bears up, Prefuming on his hopes.
Arf. What's the yoqng lad That all of 'em make fo much of ?
Mil. JTis a fweet one,
And the beft-condition'd youth I ever faw yet ; So humble, and fo affable, that he wins The love of all that know him ; and fo modeft, That, in defpite of poverty, he would flarve Rather than alk a courtefy. He's the fon Of a poor caft captain, one Octavio ; And me, that once was call'd the fair Jacintha, Is happy in being his mother. For his fake,
Enter Jamie^ Leandro, and Afcanio. Though in their fortunes fal'n, they are efteem'd of And cherifh'd by the bed. Oh, here they come. I now may fpare his character •, but obferve him, He'll juftify my report.
Jam. My good Afcanio, Repair more often to me ; above women Thou ever fhalt be welcome.
Aft. My lord, your favours May quickly teach a raw untutor'd youth To be both rude and faucy.
Lean. You cannot be
Too frequent, where you are fo much defir'd. And give me leave, dear friend, to be your rival In part of his affection ; I will buy it At any rate.
"Jam. Stood I but now poflefs'd Of what my future hope prefages to me, I then would make it clear thou hadft a patron, That would not fay, but do. Yet, as I am, Be mine ; I'll not receive thee as a fervunt,
• :• But
202 THE SPANISH CURATE.
But as my fon ; and, though I want myfelf, No page attending in the court of Spain Shall find a kinder mailer.
Afc. I befeech you, That my refufal of fo great an offer May make no ill conftrudtion ; 'tis not pride (That common vice is far from my condition) That makes you a denial to receive A favour I Ihould fue for ; nor the fafhion Which the country follows, in which to be a fervant In thofe that groan beneath the heavy weight Of poverty, is held an argument Of a bafe and abject mind. I wifh my years Were fit to do you fervice in a nature That might become a gentleman (give me leave To think myfelf one). My father ferv'd the king. As a captain in the field \ and though his fortune Return'd him home a poor man, he was rich In reputation, and wounds fairly taken ; Nor am I by his ill fuccefs deterr'd ; I rather feel a flrong defire, that fways me To follow his profeflion \ and if Heav'n Hath mark'd me out to be a man, how proud, F thj fervice of my country, fhould I be, To trail a pike under your brave command ! There, I would follow you as a guide to honour, Though all the horrors of the war made up To flop my paflage.
Jam. Thou'rt a hopeful boy, And it was bravely fpoken : For this anfwer, I love thee more than ever.
Mil. Pity, fu,ch feeds Of promHing courage mould not grow and profper !
Ang. Whatever his reputed parents be, He hath a mind that fpeaks him right and noble.
Lean. You make him blum. It needs not, fweet
Afcanio ;
We may hear praifes when they are deferv'd, Our modefly unwounded. By my life,
I would
THE SPANISH CURATE. 203 I would add fomething to the building 'Up So fair a mind ; and if, till you are fit To bear arms in the field, you'll fpend fome years In Salamanca, I'll fupply your fludies With all conveniences.
Afc. Your goodnefs, Signiors, And charitable favours, overwhelm me. If I were of your blood, you could not be More tender of me : What then can I pay, A poor boy and a ftranger, but a heart Bound to your fervice ? With what willingnefs I would receive, good Sir, your noble offer, Heav'n can bear witnefs for me ; but, alas, Should I embrace the means to raife my fortunes, I muft deflroy the lives of my poor parents, To whom I owe my being •, they in me Place all their comforts, and, as if I were The light of their dim eyes, are fo indulgent, They cannot brook one mort day's abfence from me ; And, what will hardly win belief, though young, I am their fteward and their nurfe : The bounties Which others beftow on me, ferve to fuflain 'em ; And to forfake them in their age, in me Were more than murder.
Enter Henrique.
Ang. This is a kind of begging Would make a broker charitable.
Mil. Here, fweetheart, I wifh that it were more.
Lean. When this is fpent, Seek for fupply from me.
Jam. Thy piety
For ever be remember'd ! Nay, take all, Though 'twere my exhibition to a ryal ~or one whole year.
Afc. High Heav'ns reward your goodnefs!
Hen. So, Sir, is this a flip of your own grafting, 5fou are fo prodigal ?
Jam.
204 THE SPANISH CURATE,
Jam. A flip, Sir ?
Hen. Yes,
A flip ; or call it by the proper name, Your baftard.
Jam. You're foul-mouth'd. E)o not provoke me : I (hall forget your birth if you proceed, And ufe you, as your manners do deferve, Uncivilly.
Hen. So brave ! Pray you, give me hearing : Who am I, Sir?
Jam. My elder brother : One, That might have been born a fool, and fo reputed, But that you had the luck to creep into The world a year before me.
Lean. Be more temperate.
Jam. I neither can nor will, unlefs I learn it By his example. Let him ufe his harm Unfavoury reprehenfions upon thofe That are his hinds, and not on me. The land Our father left to him alone, rewards him P'or being twelve months elder : Let that be Forgotten, and let his parafites remember One quality of worth or virtue in him, That may authorize him to be a cenfurer Of me, or of my manners, and I will Acknowledge him for a tutor ; till then, never.
Hen. From whom have you your means, Sir ?
Jam. From the will
Of my dead father ; 1 am fure I fpend not, Nor give't, upon your purfe.
Hen. But will it hold out Without my help ?
Jam. I am lure it lhall j I'll fink elfe ; For fooner I will feek aid from a whore, Than a courtefy from you.
Hen. 'Tis well ; you are proud of Your new exchequer •, when you have cheated him, And worn him to the quick, I may be found In the lift of your acquaintance.
Let
THE SPANISH CURATE. 205
Lean. Pray you, hold •,
And give me leave, my lord, to fay thus much, And in mine own defence •, I am no gull To be wrought on by perfuafion, nor no coward To be beaten out of my means, but know to whom And why 1 give or lend, and will do nothing But what my reafon warrants. You may be As fparing as you pleafe •, I muft be bold To make ufe of my own, without your licence,
Jam. 'Pray thee let him alone ; he's not worth thy
anger.
All that he does, Leaodro, 's for my good : I think, there's not a gentleman of Spain That has a better fteward, than I have of him.
Hen. Your fteward, Sir ?
Jam. Yes, and a provident one. Why, he knows I'm giv'n to large expence, And therefore lays Up for me : Could you believe elfe, That he, that fixteen years hath worn the yoke Of barren wedlock, without hope of iffue, His coffers full, his lands and vineyards fruitful, Could be fo fold to bafe and fordid thrift, As almoft to deny himfelf the means And neceffaries of life ? Alas, he knows The laws of Spain appoint me for his heir ; That all muft come to me, if I outlive him, Which fure I muft do, by the courfe of nature, And the affiftance of good mirth and fack, However you prove melancholy.
H*». Ifl live, Thou dearly malt repent this.
Jam. When thou'rt dead, I am fure, I fhall not.
Mil. Now they begin to burn Like oppos'd meteors.
Arf. Give them line and way ; My life for don Jamie.
Jam. Continue ftill The excellent hufband, and join farm to farm ;
Suffer
206 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Suffer no lordfhip, that in a clear day Falls in the profpedt of your covetous eye, To be another's ; forget you are a grandee -, Take ufe upon ufe, and cut the throats of heirs With coz'ning mortgages •, rack your poor tenants, Till they look like fo many fkeletons For want of food ; and when that widows' curfes, The ruins of ancient families, tears of orphans, Have hurried you to the devil, ever remember All was rak'd up for me, your thankful brother, That will dance merrily upon your grave, And, perhaps, give a double piftolet To fome poor needy friar, to fay a mafs To keep your ghofl from walking. '
Hen. That the law Should force me to endure this !
Jam. Verily,
When this mall come to pafs, as fure it will, If you can find a loop-hole, though in hell, To look on my behaviour, you mail fee me Ranfack your iron chefts j and, once again, Pluto's flame-colour'd daughter mail be free To domineer in taverns, mafques, and revels, As me was us'd, before me was your captive. Methinks, the mere conceit of it mould make you Go home fick and diflemper'd ; if it does, Til fend you a doctor of mine own, and after Take order for your funeral.
Ben. You have faid, Sir :
I v/ill not fight with words, but deeds, to tame you j Reft confident, I will ; and thou malt wifh, This day thou hadft been dumb \ \TLxit.
Mil. You have giv'n him a heat, But with your own diftemper.
Jam,. Not a whit j
Now he is from mine eye, I can be merry, Forget the caufe and him : All plagues go with him ! Let's talk of fomething elfe. What news is ftirring ? Nothing to pafs the time ?
Ml
THE SPANISH CURATE. 207
Mil. 'Faith, it is faid,
That the next fummer will determine much Of that we long have talk'd of, touching the wars.
Lean. What have we to do with them ? Let us dif-
courfe
Of what concerns ourfelves. 'Tis now in fafhion, To have your gallants fet down, 'in a tavern, What the arch-duke's purpofe is the next fpring, and
what
Defence my lords the States prepare, what courfe The emperor takes againft the encroaching Turk, And whether his^moony ftandards are defign'd For Perfia or Polonia : And all this The wifer fort of ftate-worms feem to know Better than their own affairs. This is difcourfe Fit for the council it concerns : We are young, And if that I might give the theme, 'twere better To talk of handfome women.
Mil. And that's one Almoft as general.
Arf. Yet none agree Who are the faireft.
Lean. Some prefer the French, For their conceited drefiings ; fome the plump Italian bona-roba's -, fome the flate That ours obferve ; and I have heard one fwear, A merry friend of mine, that once in London He did enjoy the company of a gamefter, A common gamefter too, that in one night Met him th' Italian, French, and Spanifh ways, And ended in the Dutch ; for, to cool herfelf, She kifs'd him drunk i'th' morning.
Jam. We may fpare
The travel of our tongues in foreign nations, When in Corduba, if you dare give credit To my report (for I have feen her, gallants) There lives a woman, of a mean birth too, And meanly match'd, whofe all-excelling form Difdains comparifon with any me
That
208 THE SPANISH CURATE.
That puts in for a fair one ; and tho' you * borrow From every country of the earth the beft Of thofe perfections which the climate yields, To help to make her up, if put in balance, This will weigh down the fcale.
Lean. You talk of wonders.
Jam. She is, indeed, a wonder, and fo kept; And, as the world deferv'd not to behold What curious Nature made without a pattern^ Whole copy me hath loft too, flic's ihut up, Sequefter'd from the world.
Lean. Who is the owner Of fuch a gem ? I am fir'cL
Jam. One Bartolus, A wrangling advocate.
Arf. A knave on record.
Mil. I am fure, he cheated me of the beft J5art Of my eftate.
Jam. Some bufmefs calls me hence, And of importance, which denies me leifurc To give you his full character : In few words, Though rich, he's covetous beyond exprefiion ; And to encreafe his heap will dare the devil, And all the plagues of darknefs ; and, to thefe, So jealous, as, if you would parallel Old Argus to him. you mult multiply
3 * and tho" you borrow, &c. J This defcription
comes in very flrong'y in fupportof a parallel one of Shakefpeare m his Cymbeline, which has been unneceflarily tampered with.
And that Jhe hath all courtly parts more exquijite
Than lady, ladies, woman ; from each one
The left Jhe hatht andjhc, of all compounded,
Outfells them all.
I cannot fee any impenetrable nonfenfe in this, unlefs o'er- weaning critics will labour to expound it into fuch. The poet's text is a juit climax ; fcil. ' She hath all courtly parts more exquifite than any ' fingle lady whoever; ay, than many ladies ; nay, than the whole ' fex put together.' Ferdinand fpeaking of his miitrefs Miranda, fays almoft the fame thing in the Tempeft :
— Butjott, O you, , v .•'•
So perfeft and fo peerlefs, are created
Of cv'ry creature's belt. TbefbaJJ.
His
THE SPANISH CURATE. 209
His eyes an hundred times : Of thefe none fleep : He, that would charm the heaviefl lid, muft hire A better Mercury than Jove made ufe of. Blefs yourfelves from the thought of him and her,< For 'twill be labour loft ! So, farewell, Signiors. [Exit.
Arf. Leandro ! In a dream ? Wake man, for fhame.
Mil. Trained into a fool's paradife, with a tale Of an imagin'd form ?
Lean. Jamie is noble,
And with a forg'd tale would not wrong his friend -, Nor am I fo much fir'd with luft as envy, That fuch a. churl as Bartolus fhould reap So fweet a harveft : Half my ftate to any, To help me to a mare !
Arf. Turn, do not hope for Impoflibilities.
Lean. I mud enjoy her ; And my prophetic love tells me I fhall, Lend me but your affiftance.
Arf. Give it o'er.
Mil. I would not have thee fool'd.
Lean. I have flrange engines Fafhioning here, and Bartolus on the anvil ; DifTuade me not, but help me.
Mil. Take your fortune ; If you come off well, praife your wit-, if not, Exped to be the fubjecl: of our laughter. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
/ Enter Oflavio and Jacinthq. -
Jac . You met don Henrique ?
Off. Yes.
Jac. What comfort bring you ? Speak chearfully : How did my letter work On his hard temper ? I am fure, I wrote it So feelingly, and with the pen of forrow, That it muft force compunction.
Oft. You are cozen'd : VOL. II. O Can
210 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Can you with one hand prop a falling tower, Or with the other flop the raging main, When it breaks in on the ufurped more, Or any thing that is impoflible ? And then conclude, that there is foine way left To move him to compafTion.
Jac. Is there a juftice,, Or thunder, my Oftavio, and he Not funk unto the centre ?
Off. Good Jacintha,
With your long-praftisM patience bear afflictions ; And, by provoking, call not on Heav'n's anger, He did not only fcorn to read your letter, But, moft inhuman as he is, he curs'd you, Curs'd you mofl bitterly.
Jac. The bad man's charity ! Oh, that 1 could forget there were a tie In me upon him I or the relief I feek, If given, were bounty in him, and not debt, Debt of a dear account !
Off. Touch not that firing,
'Twill but encreafe your for,row ; and tame filence, The balm of the opprefs'd, which hitherto Hath eas'd your griev'd foul, and preferv'd your fame, Mufl be your furgeon Hill.
Jac. If the contagion Or. my misfortunes had not fpread itfelf Upon my ion Afcanio, though my wants Were centuplied upon my felt", 1 could be patient : But he is ib good, I fo miferable, His pious ca,re, his duty, -and obedience, And all that can be wiili'd for from a fon, Difcharg'd to me, and I barr'd of all means To return any fcruple of the debt I owe him as a mother, is a torment Too painful to be borne.
Off. I fuffer v/ith you In that •, yet find in this aftlirance comfort, High Heav'n ordains, whofe purpofes cannot alter,
Children,
THE SPANISH CURATE. 211
Children, that pay obedience to their parents, Shall never beg their bread.
Enter Afcanio.
Jac. Here comes our joy. Where has my dearer! been ?
Afc. I have made, mother^
A fortunate voyage, and brought home rich prize> In a few hours : The owners too contented^ From whom I took it. See, here's gold j good {lore
tOOj
Nay, pray you take it.
Jac. Mens' chanties are fo cold, That, if I knew not thou wert made of goodnefs, 'Twould breed a jealotify in me, by what means Thou cam'ft by fuch a fum.
Afc. Were it ill got,
I am fure, it could not be employ'd fo well As to relieve your wants. Some noble friends^ Rais'd by Heav'n's mercy to me$ not my merits^ Beftow'd it on me.
Oft. It were a facrilege
To rob thee of their bounty, fince they gave it To thy ufe only.
Jac. Buy thee brave clothes with itj And fit thee for a fortune, and leave us To our neceffities. Why doft thou weep ?
Afc. Out of my fear I have o Tended you j For, had I not, I'm fure you are too kind Not to accept the offer of my fervice, In which I am a gainer. I have heard My tutor fay, of all aerial fowl The flork's the emblem of true piety ; Becaufc, when age hath feiz'd upon his dam, And made unfit for flight, the grateful young one Takes her upon his back, provides her food, Repaying fo her tender care of him Ere he was fit to fly, by bearing her. Shall I then, that have reafon and difcourfe,
O 2 That
212 THE SPANISH CURATE,
That tell me, all I can do is too little,
Be more unnatural than a filly bird ?
Or feed or clothe myfelf fuperfluoufly,
And know, nay, fee you want ? Holy faints keep me 4!
Jac. Can I be wretched, And know myfelf the mother to fuch goodnefs ?
Off. Come, let us dry our eyes j we'll have a feaft, Thanks to our little iteward.
Jac. And, in him, Believe that we are rich.
Afc. I'm fure I am, While I have power to comfort yon, and ferve you.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Henrique andViolante.
Viol. Is it my fault, don Henrique, or my fate ? "What's my offence ? I came young to your bed, I had a fruitful mother, and you met me With equal ardour in your Pylay of blood ; And why then am I barren ?
Hen. 'Tis not in man To yield a reafon for the will of Heav'n, Which is infcrutable.
Viol. To what ufe ferve
Full fortunes, and the meaner fort of bleffings, When that, which is the crown of all our wiihes, The period of human happinefs, One only child, that may poffefs what's ours, Is cruelly deny'd us ?
* Holy Saints keep me.~\ Afcanio's fpeech ends with an imperfect fentence, and the natural ienfe which fupplies it, exadly fills up the hemiitich which follows. So that it is very probable it was an acci dental omifiion, which one may venture to fill up without danger of adding what is not our Author's. Seaward.
Mr. Sewards reads,
— Holy faints keep me
From fuch impiety !
bat the fenfe is fo perfeft as the psffage Hands, and the di&ion fo nervous, that we think any addition totally unneceffary.
Hen.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 213
Hen. 'Tis the curfe
Of great eftates, to want thofe pledges, which The poor are happy in : They in a cottage, With joy, behold the models of their youth ; And, as their root decays, thofe budding branches Sprout forth and flourifh, to renew their age. But this is the beginning, not the end Of mifery to me, that, 'gainft my will, Since Heav'n denies us ifTue of our own, Muft leave the fruit of all my care and travel To an unthankful brother, that infults On my calamity.
Viol. I will rather choofe A baftard from the hofpital, and adopt him, And nourim him as mine own.
Hen. Such an evasion, My Violante, is forbid to vs. Happy the Roman ilate, where k was lawful, If our own fons were vicious, to choofe one Out of a virtuous ilock, though of poor parents, And make him noble. But the laws of Spain, Intending to preferve all ancient houfes, Prevent fuch free elections ; with this my brother's Too well acquainted, and this makes him bold To reign o'er me, as a mailer.
Viol I will fire
The portion I brought with me, ere he fpend A ryal of it ! No quirk left) no quiddit, That may defeat him ?
Hen. Were I but confirm'd
That you would take the means I ufe with patience, As I muft practife it with my difhonour, I could lay level with the earth his hopes, That foar above the clouds with expectation. To fee me in my grave.
Viol Effect but this, And our revenge mall be to us a fon, That mall inherit for us.
Hen. Do not repent,
O 3 When
2i4 THE SPANISH CURATE.
When 'tis too late.
Viol. I fear not what may fall, He difpoflefs'd, that does ufurp on all. [Exeunt.
ACT II. SCENE I.
Enter Leandro 5, Milanes^ and Arfenio.
Mil. Can any thing but wonder
Lean. Wonder on ; I am as ye fee -, and what will follow, gentlemen
Arf. Why doft thou put on this form ? what can
this do ? Thou look'ft moft fillily.
Mil Like a young clerk,
A half-pin'd puppy, that would \vrite for a ryal. Is this a commanding fhape to win a beauty ? To what ufe, what occafion ?
Lean. Peace ! ye are fools,
Mor,e filly than my out-fide feems ; ye are ignorant, They that pretend to wonders, muil weave cunningly.
Arf. What manner of accefs can this get ? or, if
gotten, What credit in her eyes ?
Lean. Will ye but leave me ?
Mil. Methinks, a young man, and a handlbme
gentleman,
(But, fure, thou art lunatic) methinks, a brave man, That would catch cunningly the beams of beauty, And fo diilribute 'em unto his comfort, Should like himfelf appear, young, high, and buxom. And in the brightefl form.
Lean. Ye are cozen'd, gentlemen ; Neither do I believe this, nor will follow it : Thus as I am, I will begin my voyage.
5 Enter Leandro, with a letter writ out.] This is a ftage diredion, tranfcrib'd from the Prompter's book; and a memorandum to him only, that Leandro mould go on furnifii'd with iuch a letter, to deliver to Lopez the Curate. Theobald.
When
THE SPANISH CURATE. 215
When you love, launch it out in filks and velvets ^ I'll love in ferge, and will out-go your fattins. To get upon my great horfe, and appear The fign of fuch a man, and trot my meafnres, Or riddle out whole frofty nights, my friends, Under the window, while my teeth keep tune 6, I hold no handfomenefs. Let me get in, There trot, and fiddle, where I may have fair play.
Arf. But how get in ?
Lean. Leave that to me •, your patience ; I have fome toys here that I dare well truft to : I have fmelt a vicar out, they call him Lopez. You are ne'er the nearer now.
Mil. We^do confefs it.
Lean. Weak fimple men ! this vicar to this lawyer Is the mofl inward Damon.
Arf. What can this do ?
Mil. We know the fellow, and he dwells there.
Lean. So.
Arf. A poor, thin thief. He help ? he ? hang the
vicar !
Can reading of an homily prefer thee7 ? Thou art dead fick in love, and he'll pray for thee.
Lean. Have patience, gentlemen. I fay, this vicar, This thing, I fay, is all one with the clofe Bartolus, For fo they call the lawyer ! on his nature 8, (Which I have ftudied by relation, And make no doubt I (hall hit handfomely) Will I work cunningly, and home : Underftand me.
6 whilji my teeth keep tune.] Mr. Theobald, we think
very unnecefiarijy, alters tune to time.
7 .. Lang the. wear ;
Can reading of an prefer thee ?~\ 'Tis ftrange, th?.t
none of all the editions ihould be able to furnifh out the intermediate word to fill up the hiatus cf this verfe. As they are taikiug of the vicar, it is demonstrable it muft have been, .homily ; which makes both the metre and fenfe complete. Theobald.
8 or his nature, &c.] Mr. Theobald's edition fays, on his
nature, which reading we have adopted. Probably, however, the original leclion was, o'er fa nature.
O 4 Enter
216 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Enter Lopez and Diego.
Next, I pray, leave me, leave me to my fortune -y Difficilia pulchra, that's my motto, gentlemen : I'll win this diamond from the rock, and wear her, Or
Mil. Peace -, the vicar. Send you a full fail, Sir.
Arf. There's your confeflbr -9 but what mall be your penance ?
Lean. A fool's head, if I fail ; and fo forfake me. You mail hear from me daily.
Mil. We will be ready. [Exeunt Mil. Arf.
Lop. Thin world, indeed.
Lean. I'll let him breath, and mark him. No man would think, a ilranger, as I am, Should reap any great commodity from his pigbelly.
Lop. Poor ftirring for poor vicars,
Die. And poor fextons.
Lop. We pray, and pray, but to no purpofe ; Thole, that enjoy our lands, choke our devotions ; Our poor thin ftipends make us arrant dunces.
Die. If you live miferably, how fhall we do, mailer, That are fed only with the found of praydrs ? We rife and ring the bells to get good ftomachs, And muft be fain to eat the ropes with reverence.
Lop. WThen was there a chrift'ning, Diego ?
Die. Not this ten weeks : Alas, they have forgot to get children, mafter. The wars, the feas, and ufury undo us ; Takes off our minds, our edges, blunts our plough- mares. They eat nothing here, but herbs, and get nothing
but green fauce :
There are fome poor labourers, that, perhaps, Once in feven years, with helping one another, Produce fome few pin'd butter-prints, that fcarce hold The chrift'ning neither.
Lop. Your gallants, they get honour, A flrange fantailical birth, to defraud the vicar ;
And
THE SPANISH CURATE. 217
And the camp chriftens their iflues, or the courte2ans » *Tis a lewd time.
Die. They are fo hard-hearted here too, They will not die ; there's nothing got by burials.
Lop. Diego, the air's too pure ; they cannot perifh. To have a thin ftipend, and an everlafting parim, Lord, what a torment 'tis !
Die. Good fenfible mafter, You are allow'd to pray againft all weathers, Both foul, and fair, as you fhall find occafion ; Why not againft all airs ?
Lop. That's not i' th' canons : I would it had ; 'tis out of our way forty pence.
Die. 'Tis flrange ; they are ftarv'd too, yet they
will not die here,
They will not earth. A good flout plague amongft 'em, Or half a dozen new fantaftical fevers, That would turn up their heels by whole-fale, mafter, And take the doctors too, in their grave counfels, That there might be no natural help for money, How merrily would my bells go then ?
Lop. Peace, Diego ;
The doctors are our friends; let's pleafe them well; For, though they kill but flow, they are certain, Diego. We muft remove into a muddy air, A moft contagious climate.
Die. We muft, certain ; An air that is the nurfery of agues -, Such agues, mafter, that will make mens' fouls out, Ne'er ftay for poffets, nor good old wives' plaifters,
Lop. Gouts and dead palfies.
Die. The dead does well at all times, Yet gouts will hang an arfe a long time, mafter. The pox, or Englifh 'forfeits, if we had 'em ; Thofe are rich marie, they make a church-yard fat ; And make the fexton fmg •, they never mifs, Sir.
Lop. Then wills and funeral fermons come in feafon, And fcafts that make us frolick.
fDie. Would 1 couid fee Jern. Lop,
218 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Lop. And tho' I weep i' th' pulpit for my brother, Yet, Diego, here I laugh.
Die. The caufe requires it.
Lop. Since- people left to die, I am a dunce, Diego.
Die. 'Tis a ftrange thing, I have forgot to dig too.
Lean. A precious pair of youths ! I muft make to ward 'em.
Lop. Who's that ? Look out -y it feems, he would
fpeak to us. I hope a marriage, or fome will to make, Diego.
Die. My friend, your bufmefs ?
Lean. 'Tis to that grave gentleman. Blefs your good learning, Sir !
Lop. And blefs you alfo \ He bears a promifing face ; there's fome hope toward*
Lean. I have a letter to your worfhip.
Lop. Well, Sir, From whence, I pray you ?
Lean. From Nova Hifpania, Sir, And from an ancient friend of yours.
Lop. 'Tis well, Sir-, 'Tis very well. — The devil a one I know there.
Die. Take heed of a fnap, Sir ; h' has a cozening
countenance. I do not like his way.
Lop. Let him go forward.
Ccmtabit vacuus9 ; they that have nothing, fear nothing. All I have to lofe, Diego, is my learning ; And, when he has gotten that, he may put it in a nut-mell I0. [Reads the letter. ]
0 Cantabit <vacuus - ] This hemiftich is the beginning of a verfe in Juvenal's Satyres.
Gantabit vacuus cor am latrone 'viator, Tleobald.
10 And, when be has gotten that, he may put it in a mtt-Jkell.'] Mr. Sow.ird prefcribes taking thefe words from Lopez, and giving them to Diego ; rjecaufe lie thinks it * out of character for Lopez to joke upon himfelf in thi,s place.' Bat as Lopez is merry with himfelf through the whole fcene, we have no doubt of the old copies being right. — If this line was not intended for him, it would come with more propriety from Leandre than Diego ; he making feveral fatiri- cal remarks, af.de, upon the eonverfation of the Curate and Sexton.
Signior
THE SPANISH CURATE. 219
Signior Lopez, fince my arrival from Cordova to thefe •parts, I have written divers letters unto you, but as yet receiv'd no anfwer of any — Good, and very good — And although fo great a forge tfulnefs might caufe a want in my due correspondence, yet the defire I have Jlill to ferve you muft more prevail with me — Better and better : The devil a man know I yet — and therefore, with the prefent occafion offered, I am willing to crave a continu ance of the favours which I have heretofore received from you, and do recommend my fon Leandro, the bearer, to you ; with requeft that he may be admitted in that univtrfity, tillfuch time as Iftall arrive at home ; his fludies he wrll make you acquainted withal. ¥his kindnefs Jhall fupply the want of your Jlacknefs : And fo, Heaven keep you, Tours, Alonzo Tiveria. Alonzo Tiveria! Very well. A very ancient friend of mine, I take it ; For, till this hour, I never heard his name yet.
Lean. You look, Sir, as if you had forgot my father.
Lop. No, no, I look, as I would remember him ; For that I never rernember'd I cannot forget, Sir. Alonzo Tiveria ?
Lean. The fame, Sir.
Lop. And now i' th' Indies ?
Lean. Yes.
Lop. He may be any where, For aught that I confider.
Lean. Think again, Sir ;
You were Undents both at one time in Salamanca, And, as I take it, chamber-fellows.
Lop. Ha?
Lean. Nay, fure, you mud remember.
Lop. 'Would I could!
Lean. I have heard him fay, you were goffips too.
Lop. Very likely ;
You did not hear him fay to whom ? for we (Indents May oft-times over-reach our memories. Doft thou remember, Diego, this fame Signior ? Thou haft been mine thefe twenty years.
Die.
220 THE SPANISH CtJRATE.
Die. Remember ?
Why, this fellow would make ye mad. Nova Hifpam a ? And Signior Tiveria ? What are thefe ? He may as well name ye friends out of Cataya. Take heed, I befeech your worfhip. Do you hear, my
friend, You have no letters for me7?
Lean. Not any letter ^ But I was charg'd to do my father's love To the old honeft fexton Diego. Are you he, Sir ?
Die. Ha ! have I friends, and know 'em not ? My
name is Diego ;
But if either I remember you or your father, Or Nova Hifpania (I was never there, Sir,) Or any kindred that you have — For heav'n-fake,maiter, Let's caft about a little, and confider ; We may dream out our time.
Lean. It feems I am deceiv'd, Sir : Yet, that you are don Lopez all men tell me, The curate here, and have been fome time, Sir ; And you the fexton Diego, fuch I am fent to, The letter tells as much. May be, they are dead, And you of the like names fucceed. I thank ye, gen
tlemen ;
Ye have done honeftly in telling truth ; I might have been forward elfe-, for to that Lopez, That was my father's friend, I had a charge, A charge of money to deliver, gentlemen ; Five hundred ducats, a poor fmall gratuity. But fmce you are not he --
Lop. Good Sir, let me think >, I pray ye be patient •, pray ye, flay a little : Nay, let me remember; I befeech you (lay, Sir.
Die. An honeft noble friend, that fends fo lovingly ; An old friend too ; I mall remember, fure, Sir ".
Lop. Thou fay'fl true, Diego.
I dial! rt member, fire, Sir.} Mr. Theobald's edition robs tin's e of great part of its humou ut without noticing the variation.
, , . .
paffage of great part of its humour, by reading, you will remember ; b
THE SPANISH CURATE, 221
'Pray ye confider quickly ; Do, do, by any means. Methinks, already, A grave ftaid gentleman comes to my memory,
Lean. He's old indeed, Sir.
Die. With a goodly white beard (For now he muft be fo -, I know he mull be) Signior Alonzo, mafter.
Lop. I begin to have him.
Die. H' has been from hence about fome twenty years, Sir.
Lean. Some five and twenty, Sir.
Die. You fay moft true, Sir ; Juft to an hour, 'tis now juft five and twenty, A fine ftraight- timbered man, and a brave foldier. He married— let me fee
Lean. De Caftro's daughter.
Die. The very fame.
Lean. Thou art a very rafcal ! [djide.
De Cailro is the Turk to thee, or any thing. The money rubs 'em into ftrange remembrances ; For as many ducats more they would remember Adam.
Lop. Give me your hand ; you are welcome to your
country •,
Now I remember plainly, manifeftly, As frelhly as if yeilerday I had feen him. Moft heartily welcome ! Sinful that I am, Moft finful man ! why fhould I lofe this gentleman ? This loving old companion P We had all one foul, Sir. He dwelt here hard by, at a handfome
Lean. Farm, Sir : You fay moft true.
Lop. Alonzo Tiveria ! - Lord, Lord, that time fhould play the treacherous
knave thus !
Why, he was the only friend I had in Spain, Sir. I knew your mother too, a handfome gentlewoman ; She was married very young : I married 'em. I do remember now the mafques and.fports then, The fire- works, and the fine delights. Good faith, Sir,
Now
222 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Now I look in your face — whofe eyes are thofe, Diego - Nay, if he be not juft Alonzo's picture
Lem. Lord, how I blufli for thefe two impudents!
\_Afidc.
Die. Well, gentleman, 1 think your name's Leandro.
Lean. It is, indeed, Sir. Gra'+mercy, letter; thouhadft never known elfe. \_Afidt.
Die. I have dandled you, and kifs'd you, and play'd
with you,
A hundred and a hundred times, and danc'd you, And fwung you in my bell-ropes — you lov'd fwirfging.
Lop. A fweet boy.
Lean. Sweet lying knaves ! What would thefe do for thoufands ? [Afide.
Lop. A wondrous fweet boy then it was. See now, Time, that confumes us, moots him up (till fweeter. How does the noble gentleman ? how fares he ? When mall we fee him P when will he blefs his country ?
Lean. Oh, very fhortly, Sir. 'Till his return, He has fent me ove"r to your charge.
Lop, And welcome -,
Nay, you mail know you are welcome to your friend, Sir.
Lean. And to my ftudy, Sir, which muft be the law. To further which, he would entreat your care To plant me in the favour of fome man That's expert in that knowledge : For his pains I have three hundred ducats more ; forvmy diet, Enough, Sir, to defray me •, which I am charged To take flill, as I Life it, from your cuilody : I, have the money ready, and I am weary.
Lop. Sit down, fit clown ; and, once more, you're
molt welcome.
The law you have hit upon moft happily ; ' Here is a matter in that art, Bartolus, A neighbour by -, to him I will prefer you ; A learned man, and my moft loving neighbour, I'll do you faithful fervice, Sir.
Die. He's an afs,
And
THE SPANISH CURATE. 223
And fo we'll ufe him •, he lhall be a lawyer !
Lop. But, if ever he recover this money again
Before, Diego, And get fome pretty pittance ; my pupil's hungry.
Lean. Pray you, Sir, unlade me.
Lop. I'll refrefh you, Sir : When you want, you know your exchequer.
Lean. If all this get me but accefs, I am happy,
Lop. Come ; I am tender of you.
Lean. I'll go with ye.
To have this fort betray 'd, thefe fools muft fleece me.
[Extant.
SCENE II.
Enter Bar tolas and Amaranta.
Ear. My Amaranta, a retir'd fweet life, Private, and clofe, and ftill, and houfewifely, Becomes a wife, fets off the grace of woman. At home to be believ'd both young and handfome, As lillies that are cas'd in cryftal glafTes, Makes up the wonder •, mew it abroad, 'tis ftale, And ftill, the more eyes cheapen it, 'tis more flubber'd. And what need windows open to inviting, Or ev'ning terraces, to take opinions Ti, When the moil wholefome air, my wife, blows inward, When good thoughts are the nobleft companions, And old chafte ftories, wife, the beft difcourfes ? But why do I talk thus, that know thy nature ?
Ama. You know your own difeafe, diftruft and jealoufy !
" And what need windows open to inviting^
Or e^ning terraces, to take opinions ?] Mr. Sympfon reads, to take in minions. To take opinions, is very good ienfe, and, rightly underitood, not an inelegant expreffion. I: does not fignify, as in the prefent ftyle of conversation, and as Mr. Sympfon feems to conitrue it, to take a per/on s opinion on any thing, but to captivate their fancies, and (as he explains his unauthorized reading) to attraff admirers. To take in (meaning to deceive) alfo is a mere modern barbarifm ; and the whole of this variation from the old copies is, we think, as weak as it is unprecedented.
And
224 THE SPANISH CURATE.
And thofe two give thefe leflbns, not good meaning. What trial is there of my honefty, When I am mew'd at home ? To what end, hufband, Serve all the virtuous thoughts, and chafte behaviours> Without their ufes ? Then they are known moil ex cellent,
When by their contraries they are fet off and burnifh'd. If you both hold me fair, and chafte, and virtuous IJ, Let me go fearlefs out, and win that greatnefs : Thefe feeds grow not in ihades, and conceal'd places : Set 'em i' th' heat of all, then they rife glorious.
Bar. Peace ; you are too loud.
Ama. You are too covetous ; If that be rank'd a virtue, you have a rich one. Set me, like other lawyers' wives, off handfomely, Attended as I ought, and, as they have it, My coach, my people, and my handfome women, My will in honeft things.
Bar. Peace, Amaranta 1
Ama. They have content, rich clothes, and that
fee u res 'em ;
Binds to their careful hufbands their obfervance ; They are merry, ride abroad, meet, laugh.
Bar. Thou malt too.
Ama. And freely may converfe with proper gen tlemen, Suffer temptations daily to their honour.
Enter Woman Moor.
Bar. You are now too far again : Thou malt have
any thing,
Let me but lay up for a handfome office, And then, my Amaranta
15 If you both fold me fair, &c] Mr. Seward reads, If ye both hold me fair, and chafte, and virtuous, Let me go fearlefs out, and fwin that chaftenefs. We ftiall not comment upon the impropriety, and confequent tauto logy, of this alteration ; they are too glaring to efcape the notice of the moll inattentive.
Ama.
TtlE SPANISH CURATE. 245
Ama. Here's a thing now, You place as pleafure to me ; all my retinue, My chambermaid, my kitchenmaid, my friend ; And what me fails in I muft do myfelf. A foil to fet my beauty offj I thank you. You will place the devil next for a companion.
Ear. No more fuch words, good wife; What woul<# you have, maid?
Moor. Matter Curate, and the Sexton^ and a flran-
ger, Sir, Attend to fpeak with your worfhip;
Bar. A itranger ?
Ama. You had beft to be jealous of the man you know not.
fear. 'Pray thee, no more of that.
Ama. 'Pray yon, go out to 'em ; That will be fafeft for you, I am well here ; I only love your peace, and ferve like a Have for it.
Ear. No, no, thou malt not-, 'tis fome honeft client, Rich, and litigious, the Curate has brought to me. Prithee, go in, my duck ; I'll but fpeak to 'ern^ And return inftantly.
Ama. I am commanded. One day you will know my fufferance. |i&*/.
Ear. And reward it.
So, fo ; faft bind, fail find. Come in, my neighbours ; My loving neighbours, pray ye come in -9 ye are welcome.
Enter Lopez, Leandro, and Diego. Lop. Blefs your good reverence ! Bar. Good day, good inafter Curate, And neighbour Diego, welcome. What's yourbtifmefs ? And, 'pray ye, be fliort, good friends ; the time is
precious. Welcome, good Sir.
Lop. To be fhort then with your mafterfhip, For, I know, your feveral hours are full of bufinefs, We have brought you this young man, of honeft pa rents, VOL. II. P And
226 THE SPANISH CURATE,
And of an honeft face
Bar. It feems fo, neighbours : But to what end ?
Lop. To be your pupil, Sir; Your fervaat, if you pleafe.
Lean. I have travell'd far, Sir, To feek a worthy man.
Bar. Alas, good gentleman, I am a poor man, and a private too, Unfit to keep a fervant of your reckoning ; My houfe a little cottage, and fcarce able To hold myfelf, and thofe poor few live under it. Befides, you muft not blame me, gentlemen, If I were able to receive a fervant, To be a little fcrupuious of his dealing ; For in thefe times — —
Lop. Pray let me anfwer that, Sir : Here are five hundred ducats, to fecure him ; He cannot want, Sir, to make good his credit, Good gold, and coin.
Bar. And that's an honeft pledge ; Yet, fure, that needs not, for his face and carnage Seem to declare an in-bred honeily.
Lean. And (for I have a ripe mind to the law,
Sir,
In which, I understand, you live a mailer) The leaft poor corner in your houfe, poor bed, Sir, (Let me not feem intruding to your worlhip) With fome books to inftrud me, and your counfel, Shall I reft moft content with : Other acquaintance Than your grave prefence, and the grounds of
law,
I dare not covet, nor I will not feek, Sir ; For, furely, mine own nature defires privacy. Next, for your monthly pains, to mew my thanks, I do proportion out fome twenty ducats ; As I grow riper, more : Three hundred now, Sir, To (hew my love to learning, and my mafter •, My diet I'll defray too, without trouble.
Lop.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 227
Lop. Note but his mind to learning14.
Bar. I do ftrangely •, Yes, and I like it too — -Thanks to his money >
Die. 'Would he would live with me, and learn to dig too.
Lop. A wondrous modefl man, Sir.
Bar. So it feems.
His dear love to his fludy muft be nourifh'd, Neighbour : He's like to prove
L op. With your good counfel, And with your diligence, as you will ply him. His parents, when they know your care
Bar. Come hither.
Di£. An honefter young man your worfhip ne'er kept; But he is fo bafhful
Bar. Oh, I like him better.
Say, I fhould undertake you, which, indeed, Sir, Will be no little ftraitnefs to my living, Confidering my affairs, and my fmall houfe, Sir, (For I fee tome promifes, that pull me to you) Could you content yourlelf, at firft thus meanly, To lie hard, in an out-part of my houfe, Sir ? For I have not many lodgings to allow you, And fludy fhould be flill remote from company 5 A little fire fometimes too, to refrefh you, A fludent muft be frugal ; fometimes lights too, ,rj According to your labour. Lean. Any thing, Sir,
x^ Note but his mind to learning.
Bar. I do flrangely, yes, and I like it too , thanks to his money. I Die. Wou'dy he ivou'd live with me, and learn to dig too. "\ Both the meafureand humour are greatiy injur'd by this corrupt read- ing. I doubt not, but the original run thus. Lop. Note but his mind to learning. Bar. ""I do Jlrangely ;
Tes, and 1 like it too.
Die. 'Thanks to his money. —
''Would, he would live with me, &c. Sgivard.
Mr. Seward's regulation of the mefifure is obvioufly right ; but his varying the interlocutors is, in our opinion, as erroneous as it is ar bitrary.
P 2 That's
228 THE SPANISH CURATE.
That's dry, and wholefome. I am no bred wanton,
Bar. Then I receive you : But I muft defire you To keep within your confines.
Lean. Ever, Sir ;
(There's the gold) and ever be your fervant. (Take it, and give me books) May I but prove, Sir, According to my wifh, and thefe fhall multiply !
Lop. Do, ftudy hard. Pray you take him in, and
fettle him'j He's only fit for you. Shew him his cell, Sir,
Die. Take a good heart ; and, when you are a eun*
ning lawyer, I'll fell my bells, and you mail prove it lawful.
Bar. Come, Sir, with me. Neighbours, I thank your diligence.
Lop. I'll come fometimes, and crack a cafe with you.
Bar. W elcome. [Exeunt Bart, and Leandro.
Lop. Here's money got with eafe ! here, fpend that
jovially, And pray for the fool, the founder.
Die. Many more fools, I heartily pray, may follow his example I Lawyers, or lubbers, or of what condition, And many fuch fweet friends in Nova Hifpania f
Lop. It will do well: Let 'em but fend their monies^ Com£ from what quarter of the world,. I care not, I'll know sem inflantly ; nay, I'll be akin to 'em -y I cannot mifs a man that fends me money. Let him law there ! *Long as his ducats laft, boy, I'll grace him, and prefer him.
Die. I'll turn trade, maftery And now live by the living ; let the dead ftink, 'Tis a poor ftinking trade.
•Lop. If the young fool now Should chance to chop upon his fair wife, Diego ?
Die. And handle her cafe, matter -, that's a law-point, A point would make Kim ftart,andputonhis fpeftacles ; A hidden point, were worth the canvaffing.
Lop. Now, furely, furely, I mould love him, Diego,,
And
THE SPANISH CURATE. 229
And love him heartily : Nay, I Ihould love myfelf,
Or any thing that had but that good fortune -,
For, to fay truth, the lawyer is a dog-bolt,
An arrant worm ; and though I call him wormipful,
I wiili him a canoniz'd cuckold, Diego.
Now, if my youth do dub him — ^—
Die. He is too demure, Sir.
Lop. If he do fling her home— — -
Die. There's no fuch matter, The woman was not born to fo much bleflednefs, He has no heat •, ftudy confumes his oil, mailer.
Lop. Let's leave it to the will of fate, and prefently, Over a cup ofjufty fack, let's propriety. I am like a man that dream'd he was an emperor. £ome, Diego, liope ! and, while he lafls, we'll lay it on.
SCENE III,
Enter Jamie, Milanes, Arfenio, and Angelo.
Jam. Angelo, Milanes, did you fee this wonder1*?
Mil
15 Jam. Angelo, Mi/axes, did you fee this wonder ? Mil. Yes, yes. Jam. And you, Arfenio? Arf. Yes, he's gone, Sir, Strangeiy difguiid, bi s fet upon bis Buoyage. Love guide his thoughts ! &c.~\ Angelo mak«s his appearance in the firft fcene of the firil aft, but he fpeaks but four lines there ; and nothing but what Arfenio might full as well have faid: And he has nothing to do here, but to fpoii the verfe. As he is quite an un- neceflary perfon in the p'ay, I fancy, he has intruded into it by fome error of the players. However, it is necefiary to ftrike him out from this paflage. The latter part of Arfenids fpeech ought, I believe, to be given to yamie ; it is perfectly in his character. I would read therefore ;
Jam. Milanes, did you fee this wonder? Mil. Yes, yes. Jam. And you, Arfenio? Arf. Yes, he is gone, Sir, Strangely difguis'dt He"1! fet upon bis voyage.
Jam. Love guide his thoughts ! &c. Seaward.
I will only add to Mr. Seward's obfervation, that as Angelo is no where elfe fpoke of, or to, throughout the whole play ; as he is no Banner ©fa character, nor any ways conducive to carrying on the plot j
230 THE SPANISH CURATE.
1 Mil. Yes, yes.
Jam. And you, Arfenio ?
Arf. Yes •, he's gone, Sir, Strangely difguis'd ! he's fet upon his voyage.
Jam. Love guide his thoughts ! He's a brave ho~
neft fellow.
Sit clcfe, don lawyer ! Oh, that arrant knave now, How he will ftink, will fmoke again, will burft ! He's the moll arrant bead
Mil. He may be more beaft.
Jam. Let him bear fix, and fix, that all may blaze him! The viliany he has lowed into my brother, And, from his Hate, the revenue he has reached at ! Pay him, my good Leandro ! Take my prayers !
Arf. And all our willies ! Plough with his fine white heifer !
Jam. Mark him, my dear friend, for a famous
cuckold !
Let it out-live his books, his pains, and, hear me, The more he feeks to fmother it with juitice,
Enter a Servant.
Let it blaze put the more ! What news, Andrea ? And. News I am loth to tell you •, but I am charg'ds
Sir. Your brother lays a Uriel: command upon you,
no ways aflifhnt in making Diego's will, nor comprehended in Bar- tolus's refentment, I have ventured to expunge him quite out of the drama. Ikeobald.
It is true, the character of Angela is very inconsiderable ; but that could not give thefe gentlemen authority to drive him out of this play, as they did the old crone out of Philafter. Mr. Seward fays, the in- fertion of Angela's name in this place, fpoils the verfe ; but it is juft the contrary ; iince, notwithflandrng Mr. Seward alters be-s iQbe isy in the fecond line, the verfe' halts fhockingly ;
And you, Ar-fe-ni-O — Test he is gone, Sir.
That the players mould add a character is a ftrange fuppofition ; their companies, formerly, we believe, feldom were fo numerous, that they (hould think it necrflkry to create employment. It is much more probabie, that Angela's part was at firft more confiderabSe, and that the players, for want of hands, intended linking it wholly out ; but ca- fually overlooked the fpeeches (till remaining to his name.
No
THE SPANISH CURATE. 231
No more to know his houfe, upon your danger. I am forry, Sir.
Jam. Faith, never be : I am glad on't. He keeps the houfe of pride and foolery : I mean to fhun it ; fo return my anfwer : 'Twill fhortly fpew him out. Come, let's be merry, And lay our heads together carefully, How we may help our friend ; and let's lodge near him3 Be ftill at hand. I would not for my patrimony, But he mould crown his lawyer a learn'd monfter ! Come, let's away ; I'm ft ark mad 'till I fee him. [Exe.
SCENE IV.
ILnter Eartolus and .Amaranta.
Ama. Why will you bring men in, and yet be jealous ? Why will you lodge a young man, a man able, And yet repine ?
Ear. He mall not trouble thee, fweet ; A modeft poor flight thing ! Did I not tell thee He was only given to the book, and for that How royally he pays ? finds his own meat too.
Ama. I will not have him here: I know your courfes, And what fits you will fall into of madnefs,
Ear. 'Faith, I will not, wife.
Ama. I will not try you.
Ear. He comes not near thee, mail not dare to tread Within thy lodgings : In an old out-room, Where logs and coals were laid — -r
Ama. Now you lay fire •, Fire to confume your quiet.
Bar. Didft thou know him, Thou wouldft think as I do. He difquiet thee ! Thou may'ft wear him next thy heart, and yet not
warm him.
His mind, poor man, 's o'th' law ; how to live after, And not on, lewdnefs. On my confcience, He knows not how to look upon a woman, More than by reading, of what fex me is. P 4
232 THE SPANISH CURATE,
Ama* I do not like it, Sir.
Bar. Dofl thou not fee, fool, What prefents he fends hourly in his gratefulnefs ? What delicate meats ?
Ama. You had bed truft him at your table ; Do, and repent it, do ! j
Bar. If thou be'fl willing,
By my troth, I think he might come •, he's fo modeft, He never fpcaks. There's part of that he gave me-, He'll eat but half a dozen bits, and rife immediately; Ev'n as he eats, he ftudies j he'll not difquiet thee. Do as thou pleafeft, wife.
Ama. What means this woodcock ? [Knock within.
Bar. Retire, fweet; there's one knocks ! Come in. Your bufmefs ?
Enter Servant. * «i
Ser. My lord don Henrique would entreat you, Sir, To come immediately, and fpeak with him ^ He has bufmefs of fome moment.
Bar. I'll attend him.
I mull be gone : I prithee, think the beft, wife ; At my return, I'll tell thee more. Good morrow \ Sir, keep you clofe, and fcudy hard : An hour hence I'll read a new cafe to you. [Exit*
Lean, (within) I'll be ready.
Ama. So many hundred ducats, to lie kurvily, And learn the pelting law ? This founds but flenderly^ But very poorly. I would fee this fellow, Very fain fee him, how he looks : I will find
To what end, and what iludy There's the place :
I'll go o' th* other fide, and take my fortune.
I think there is a window. [Exif.
Enter Leandro. Lean. He's gone out.
Now, if I could but fee her ! She is not this way. How naftily he keeps his houfe ? My chamber, If I continue long, will choke me up,
It
THE SPANISH CURATE. 233
Jt is fo damp. I fhall be mortified
For any woman, if I ftay a month here.
I'll in, and ftrike my lute ; that found may call her. [Ex,
Enter Amaranta.
Ama. He keeps very clofe, Lord, how I long to fee
him !
A lute ftruck handfomely ! a voice too ! I'll hear that.
[Lute andfong l6,
Thefe verfes are no law, they found too fweetly. JSTow I am more defirous. \Leandro feeping.
Lean. 'Tis fhe, certain,
Ama. What's that, that peeps ?
Lean. Oh, admirable face !
Ama. Sure, 'tis the man.
Lean. I will go out a little.
Ama. He looks not like a fool ; his face is noble. How flill he flands !
Lean. I am ftrucken dumb with wonder : JSure, all the excellence of earth dwells here!
Ama. How pale he looks ! yet, how his eyes, like
torches,
Fling their beams round ! How manly his face fhews ! He comes on : Surely, he will fpeak. He is ma^de
moil handfomely. This is no clerk behaviour. Now I have feen you,
16 Song.] The following fong not appearing in the firft copy of this Comedy, we do not look upon it as the production of our Poets, and Jiave therefore, removed it from the text. I. Deareft, do not you delay me,
Since, thou know'lt, I muft be gone ; .Wind and tide, 'tis thought, doth ftay me, But 'tis wind that mult be blown
From that breath, whofe native fmell Indian odours doth excel. JI. Oh, then fpeak, thou faireft fair,
Kill not him that vows to ferve thee ; But perfume this neighbouring air, Elfe dull filence, (ure, will Itarve me : 'Tis a word that's quickly fpoken, Which being reilrain'd, a heart is broken.
ru
234 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Til take my time ! Hufband, you have brought home
tinder. [Exit. She drops her glove.
Lean. Sure fhe has transferred me ; I had forgot my
tongue clean.
I never faw a face yet, but this rare one, But I was able boldly to encounter it, And fpeak my mind ; my lips were lock'd up here j This is divine, and only ferv'd with reverence ! Oh, moft fair cover of a hand far fairer, Thou blefled innocence, that guards that whitenefs, Live next my heart ! I am glad I have got a relick; A relick, when I pray to it, may work wonders.
[A noife wit bin 9
Hark, there's fome noife ! I muft retire again. This blefled apparition makes me happy : I'll fuffer, and I'll facrifice my fubftance, But I'll enjoy. NOW, foftly to my kennel, [Exit.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter Henrique and Bartolus.
Hen. "\7*OU know my caufe fufficiently ? j[ Bar. I do, Sir.
Hen. And though it will impair my honefty, And ftrike deep at my credit, yet, my Bartolus? There being no other evafion left to free me From the vexation of my fpiteful brother, That moft infultingly reigns over me, I muft and will go forward.
Bar. Do, my lord,
And look not after credit ; we mall cure that ; Your bended honefty we mail fet right, Sir ; We furgeons of the law do defperate cures, Sir j And you fhall fee how heartily I'll handle it : Mark, how I'll knock it home. Be of good cheer, Sir $ You give good fees, and thofe beget good caufes ; The prerogative of your crowns will carry the matter.
Carry
THE SPANISH CURATE. 235
Carry it fheer. The afliftant fits to-morrow, And he's your friend. Your monied men love na turally, And as your loves are clear, fo are your caufes.
Hen. He mail not want for that.
Bar. No, no, he muftnot;
Line your caufe warmly, Sir-, (the times are aguifh) That holds a plea in heart. Hang the penurious ! Their caufes, like their purfes, have poor iflues.
Hen. That way, I was ever bountiful.
Ear. 'Tistrue, Sir; That makes you fear'd, forces the fnakes to kneel to
you I?.
Live full of money, and fupply the lawyer, And take your choice of what man's lands you pleafe,
Sir,
What pleafures, or wha£ profits, what revenges ; They are all your own. I muft have witnefies Enough, and ready.
Hen. You fhall not want, my Bartolus.
Bar. Subflantial, fearlefs fouls, that will fwear fud-
denly, That will fwear any thing.
Hen. They fhall fwear truth too.
Bar. That's no great matter : For variety, They may fwear truth ; elfe 'tis not much look'd after. J will ferve procefs, prefently, and flrongly,
17 - forces the fnakes to kneel to you. ~\ Snakes feems evidently
a corrupted reading. For if by fnakes we might uriderfhnd the pettyfoggers of the law, or don Henrique's enemies, or any other fet of men, yet our Authors would hardly ufe fo ill-jointed a metaphor as that of Jnakes kneeling. The words, that feem mod like it, are rakes, jacks, and knaves \ the latter bids faireit to have been the original. Seaward.
I have not difturb'd the text, becaufe our Authors, perhaps, by a bold metaphor may mean poor fervile wretches that creep \ike/na& es ; And when the fnake eredls its creft a little, and trails its hinder parts on thegiound, it in fome fort refembles the poiture of kneeling.
Theobald.
After all, we cannot help fufpe&ing a corruption of the text, tho* we are entirely at a lofs how to remedy it.
Upon.
236 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Upon your brother, and Octavio, Jacintha, and the boy. Provide your proofs, Sir, And fet 'em fairly off-, be fure of witneffes ; Tho' they coft money, want no {lore of witnefles : I have feen a handfome caufe fo foully loft, Sir, So beaftly caft away, for want of witnefles
Hen. There fhall want nothing.
Bar. Then begone, be provident, Send to the judge a fecret way : You have me ? And let him underftand the heart
Hen. I fhall, Sir.
Bar. And feel the pulfes ftrongly beat. I'll fludy, And at my hour, but mark me ! Go ; be happy ; (3o, and believe i' th' law !
Hen. I hope 'twill help me. [Exeunt,
, , r • t *j|
SCENE II.
Enter Lopez, Diego, four Parijhioners, and Singers.
Lop. Ne'er talk to me, I will not flay amongil ye ; Debauch'd and ignorant lazy knaves I found ye, And fools I leave ye. I have taught thefe twenty years, Preach'd fpoon-meat to ye, that a child might fwallow ; Yet ye are blockheads ftill. What mould I fay to ye ? Ye have neither faith, nor money, left to fave ye : Am I a fit companion for fuch beggars ?
1 Par. If the fhepherd will fuffer the fheep to be
fcabb'd, Sir
Lop. No, no, ye are rottenf
Die. 'Would they were, for my fake !
Lop. I have 'nointed ye, and tarr'd ye with my
doctrine,
And yet the murrain flicks to ye, yet ye are mangy ! I will avoid ye.
2 Par. Pray you, Sir, be not angry,
In the pride of your new cafTock •> do not part with us. "We do acknowledge you a careful Curate, And one that feldorn troubles us with lermons :
A fhoit
THE SPANISH CURATE. 237
A fhort flice of a reading ferves us, Sir.
We do acknowledge you a quiet teacher ;
Before you'll vex your audience, you'll deep with 'em;
And that's a loving thing.
3 Par. We grant you, Sir, The only benefactor to our bowling, To all our merry fports the firft provoker ; And, at our feafts, we know there is no reafon But you, that edify us moil, fhould eat mofb.
Lop. I will not (lay, for all this ; ye mail know me A man born to a more befeeming fortune, Than ringing all-in to a rout of dunces. ' 4 Par. We will encreafe your tithes ; you mall have
eggs too, Tho' they may prove moft dangerous to our ifiues.
1 Par. lamafmith; yet thus far, out of my love, You mail have the tenth horfe I prick, to pray for : I am fure, I prick five hundred in a year, Sir.
2 Par. I am a cook, a man of a dry'd confcience, Yet thus far I relent : You mall have tithe pottage.
3 Par. Your ftipend mall be rais'd too, good neigh
bour Diego. Die. Would ye have me fpeak for ye ? I am more
angry,
Ten times more vex'd ; not to be pacified ! No, there be other places for poor fextons, Places of profit, friends, fine flirring places, And people that know how to ufe our offices, Know what they were made for. I fpeak for fuch
capons ! Ye mall find the key o' th' church under the, door,
neighbours -, Ye may go in, and drive away the daws.
Lop. My furplice,with one (leeve, ye mail find there, For to that dearth of linen ye have driven me ; And the old cutwork cope, that hangs by geometry : 'Pray ye turn 'em carefully, they are very tender. The remnant of the books lie where they did, neigh bours,
Half
THE SPANISH: CURATE.
Half pufPd away with the church-wardens' pipings, Such fmoky zeals they have againft hard places. The poor-man's box is there too : If ye find any thing Befide the pofy, and that half rubb'd out too, For fear it Ihould awake too much charity, Give it to pious ufes ; that is, fpend it. Die. The bell-ropes, they are ftrong enough to hang
Ye> So we bequeath ye to your deftiny.
1 Par. 'Pray ye be not fo hafty. Die. I'll fpeak a proud word to ye :
Would ye have us ftay ?
2 Par. We do moft heartily pray ye.
3 Par. I'll draw as mighty drink, Sir— Lop. A ftrong motive ;
The ftronger ftill, the more ye come unto me.
3 Par. And I'll fend for my daughter. Lop. This may ftir too :
The maiden is of age, and muft be edified.
4 Par. You mall have any thing. Lofe our learned
vicar ? And our moft conftant friend, honeft, dear Diego ?
Die. Yet all this will not do. I'll tell ye, neigh bours,
And tell ye true : If ye will have us ftay, If ye will have the comforts of our companies, Ye mall be bound to do us right in thefe points ; Ye mall be bound, and this the obligation : Die when 'tis fit, that we may have fit duties l8, And do not feek to draw out our undoings. Marry try'd women, that are free, and fruitful •, Get children in abundance, for your chrift'nings, Or fuffer to be got, 'tis equal juftice.
Lop. Let weddings, chrift'nings, churching*, fu nerals,
And merry goffipings, go round, go round ftill •, Round as a pig, that we may find the profit.
13 Die nvGfn '>«//, that we may have ft duties.] Mr. Sympfon alters duties to dues> we think injudicioufly ; certainly, arbitrarily.
Die.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 239
Die. And let your old men fall fick handfomely, And die immediately ; their fons may moot up. Let women die o' th' fullens too ; 'tis natural : But be fure their daughters be of age firft, That they may flock us ftill. Your queazy young wives, That periih undeliver'd, 1 am vex'd with, And ve^c'd abundantly; it much concerns me; There's a child's burial loft-, look that be mended.
Lop. Let 'em be brought to-bed, then die when
they pleafe. Thefe things confider'd, countrymen, and fworn to
2 Par. All thefe, and all our fports again, and gambols.
3 Par. We muft die, and we muft live, and we'll
be merry ; Every man mail be rich by one another.
2 Par. We are here to-morrow, and gone to-day.
For my part,
If getting children can befriend my neighbours, I'll labour hard but I will fill your font, Sir.
1 Par. I have a mother now, and an old father ; They are as fure your own, within thefe two months —
4 Par. My filter muft be pray'd for too ; me is
defperate, Defperate in love.
Die. Keep defperate men far from her, Then 'twill go hard. Do ye fee how melancholy ? Do ye mark the man ? Do ye profefs ye love him, And would do any thing to ftay his fury, And are ye unprovided to refrefh him ? To make him know your loves ? Fy, neighbours !
2 Par. We'll do any thing.
We have brought mufic to appeafe his fpirit; And the beft fong we'll give him.
Die. Pray you fit down, Sir ; They know their duties now, and they ftand ready To tender their beft mirth.
Lop. 'Tis well. Proceed, neighbours ! I am glad I have brought ye to underftand good manners ;
Ye
?HE SPANISH CURATE.
Ye had Puritan hearts awhile, fpurn'd at all paftimes$ But I fee fome hope now.
Die. We are fet. Proceed, neighbours ! [Song I9.
Enter Arfenie and Milanes. Arf. What ails this prieft ? how highly the thing
takes it ? Mil. Lord, how it looks ? Has he not bought fome
prebend ?
Leandro's money makes the rafcal merry> Merry at heart. He fpies us. Lop. Begone, neighbours ;
Here are fome gentlemen. Begone, good neighbours* Begone, and labour to redeem my favour. No more words, but begone. Thefe two are gentle men ; No company for crufty-handed fellows.
Die. We will Hay for a year or two, and try ye. Lop. Fill all your hearts with joy ^ we will flay with ye.
'9 Song.] For the fame reafon as is urg'd in p. 233, we have re moved the following fong from the text.
I. Let the bells ring, and let the boys fing,
The young laffes fkip and play ; Let the cups go round, 'till round goes the ground,
Our learned old vicar will flay. II. Let the pig turn merrily, merrily, ah,
And let the fat goofe fwim j For verily, verily, verily, ah, Our vicar this day mall be trim.
HI. The ftew'd cock (hall crow, cock-a-loodle-Ioo,
A loud cock-a-loodle mall he crow j The duck and the drake mall Iwim in a lake
Of onions and claret below. IV. Our wives fhall be neat, to bring in our meat
To thee our moft noble advifer ; Our pains fhall be great, and bottles fhall fweat,
And we ourfelves will be wifer. V. We'll labour and fwink, we' 11 kifs. and we'll drink,
And tithes fhall ceme thicker and thicker ; We'll fall to our plow, and get children enow, And thou malt be learned old vicar.
Begone j
THE SPANISH CURATE. 241
Begone ; no more ! I take your paftimes gracioufly-
[Exeunt Parijhioners* Would ye with me, my friends ?
Arf. We would look upon you ; For, methinks, you look lovely.
Lop. You have no letters ? Nor any kind remembrances ?
Mil. Remembrances ?
Lop. From Nova Hifpania, or fome part remote, Sir-; You look like travel'd men. May be, fome old friends, That happily I have forgot ; fome ligniors In China or Cataya j fome companions— —
Die. In the Mogul's court, or elfewhere.
Arf. They are mad, fure.
Lop. You came not from Peru ? Do they look, Diego, As if they had fome my fiery about 'em ? Another don Alonzo now I
Die. Ay, marry,
And fo much money, Sir, from one you know not ; Let it be who it will !
Lop. They have gracious favours. Would ye be private ?
Mil. There's no need on't, Sir -, We come to bring you a remembrance from a mer/- chant.
Lop. 'Tis very well -, 'tis like I know him,
Arf. No, Sir, I do not think you do.
Lop. A new miflake, Diego ; Let's carry it decently.
Arf. We come to tell you,
You have receiv'd great lums from a young factor They call Leandro, that has robb'd his mailer, Robb'd him and run away.
Die. Let's keep clofe, mafter ; Xhis news comes from a cold country.
Lop. By my faith, it freezes.
Mil. Is not this true ? Do you fhrink now, good- man Curate ? VOL. II. ( Dp
THE SPANISH CURATE,
Do I not touch you ?
Lop. We have a hundred ducats Yet left ; we do befeech you, Sir
Mil. You'll hang, both !
Lop. One may fuffice.
Die. I will not hang alone, mailer ; I had the leaft part, you (hall hang the higheft. Plague o' this Tiveria, and the letter ! The devil fent it poft, to pepper us, From Nova Hifpania ! we mail hang at home now.
Arf. I fee ye are penitent, and I have companion ; Ye are fecure both, do but what we charge ye ; Ye (hall have more gold too, and he mall give it, Yet ne'er endanger ye.
Lop. Command us, matter, Command us prefently, and fee how nimbly
Die. And if we do not handfomely endeavour ?
Arf. Go home, and, 'till ye hear more, keep yq
private ;
'Till we appear again, no words, good vicar 1 There's fomething added.
Mil. For you too.
Lop. We are ready.
Mil. Go, and expect us hourly : If ye falter, Though ye had twenty lives
Die. We are fit to lofe 'em.
Lop. 'Tis mofl expedient, that we iliould hang both.
Die. If we be hang'd, we cannot blame our fortune.
Mil. Farewell, and be your own friends.
Lop. We exped ye. \Exeuni>
SCENE III.
Alar: Atabk-look^two chairs^paper^andftandiflofet out.
Enter Oftayio, Jacinth a ^ and Afcanio.
Oft. We cited to the court !
jfac. It is my wonder.
Oft. But not our fear, Jacimha. Wealthy men,
THE SPANISH CURATE. 243
That have eftates to lofe, whofe confcious thoughts
Are full of inward guilt, may fhake with horror
To have their adlions fifted, or appear
Before the judge : But we, that know ourfelves
As innocent as poor, that have no fleece
On which the talons of the griping law
Can take fure hold, may fmile with fcorn on all
That can be urg'd againft us,
Jac. I am confident,
There is no man fo covetous, that defires TO ravim our wants from us •, and lefs hope, There can be fo much juftice left on earth, Though fued, and call'd upon, to eafe us of The burden of our wrongs.
0#. What thinks Afcanio ? Should we be call'd in queftion, or accus'd Unjuftly, what would you do to redeem us prom tyrannous oppreflion ?
Afc. I could pray TO him that ever has an open ear To hear the innocent, and right their wrong? ; ^"ay, by my troth, I think I could out-plead An advocate, and fweat as much as he Does for a double fee, ere you mould fuffer Jn an honeft caufe.
Enter Jamie and Bartolus, Off. Happy fimplicity !
Jac. My deareil and my beft one ! Don Jamie ! Oft. And the advocate, that caus'd us to be fum-
mop'd.
Afc. My lord is mov'd ; I fee it in his looks ; And that man, in the gown, in my opinion Looks like a progging knave10.
ao Looks like a proaguing knave."} I never knew, nor am acquainted with this word : It muft certainly be, progging ; i. e. an hungry, jcraping, hoarding up rafcal. Prog is a cant word fa prwi/ions
Theobald.
244 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Jac. Peace, give them leave.
Jam. Serve me with procefs ?
Bar. My lord, you are not lawlefs.
Jam. Nor thou honeil ;
One, that not long fmce was the buckram fcribe, That would run on mens' errands for an afper "-,. And from fuch bafenefs, having rais'd a flock To bribe the covetous judge, calPd to the bar. So poor in practice too, that you would plead A needy client's caufe, for a ftarv'd hen, Or half a little loin of veal, tho' fly-blown ; And thefe the greateft fees you could arrive at For juft proceedings : But, finceyou turn'd rafcal—- *
Ear. Good words, my lord.
Jam. And grew my brother's bawd In all his vicious courfes, foothing him In his difhoneft practices, you are grown The rich and eminent knave ! In the devil's name^ What am I cited for ?
Ear. You mall know anon ; And then too late repent this bitter language, Or I'll mifs of my ends.
Jam. Were't not in court,
I would beat that fat of thine, rais'd by the food Snatch'd from poor clients' mouths, into a jelly; I would, my man of law, but I am patient, And would obey the judge.
Ear. 'Tis your beft courfe. 'Would every enemy I have would beat mp ;. I would wifh no better action.
Oft. 'Save your lordfhip.
Afc. My humble fervice.
Jam. My good boy, how doft thou ? Why art thou cali'd into the court ?
In the fong of Atuclycus, Winter's Tale, act iv. fc. ii. the wore pugging tooth occur ; which both Sir Thomas Hanmer and Dr. War- burton alter to fragging tooth, and Dr. Thirlby obferved, that t'hii \vas the cant of gypiies. Iheolald.
41 * on meni errands for an afper.] An afper is a Turkif
coin, in value about three farthings. R-
THE SPANISH CURATE. 245
Enter AJfiftant, Henrique^ Officer •, and Witneffes.
Afc. I know not,
But 'tis my lord tiie affiftant's pleafure I fhould attend here.
Jam. He will foon refolve us.
Offi. Make way there for the judge.
Jam. How ? my kind brother ? Nay, then, 'tis rank, there is fome villany towards.
Affift. This feflions, purchased at your fuit, don
Henrique,
Hath brought us hither, to hear and determine Of what you can prefer.
Hen. I do befeech
The honourable court, I may be heard In my advocate.
Affift. 'Tis granted.
Ear. Hum ! hum !
Jain. That preface^
If left out in a lawyer, fpoils the caufe, Tho' ne'er fo good and honeft.
Ear. If I flood here To plead in the defence of an ill man, Moft equal judge, or to accufe the innocent, {To both which I profefs myfelf a ftranger) It would be requifite I mould deck my language With tropes and figures, and all flourifhes That grace a rhetorician •, 'tis confefs'd, Adulterate metals need the goldfmith's art To fet 'em off; what in itfelf is perfect Contemns a borrow'd glofs. This lord, my client, Whofe honeft caufe, when 'tis related truly, Will challenge juftice, finding in his confcience A tender fcruple of a fault long fince By him committed, thinks it not fufficient To be abfolv'd oft by his confeffor, If that in open court he publifh not What was fo long conceal'd.
Jam. To what tends this ?
Bar.
246" THE SPANISH CURATE.
Bar. In his young years (it is no miracle That youth and heat of blood fhould mix together) He look'd upon this woman, on whofe face The ruins yet remain of excellent form ^ He look'd on her, and lov'd her.
Jac. Ye good angels, "What an impudence is this ?
Bar. And us'd all means
Of fervice, courtmip, prefents, that might win her To be at his devotion : But in vain ; Her maiden fort, impregnable, held out Until he promis'd marriage •, and before Thefe witnefles a folemn contract pafs'd, To take her as his wife.
Affift. Give them their oath.
Jam. They are incompetent witnefies,- his owa
creatures, And will fwear any thing for half a ryal.
Offi. Silence!
Jffifl. Proceed.
Bar. Upon this ftrong aflurance, He did enjoy his wi flies to the full ; Which fatisfied, and then, with eyes of judgment, Hood-wink'd with luft before, conlidering duly The inequality of the match, he being Nobly defcended and allied, but me Without a name, or family, fecretly He purchased a divorce, to difannul His former contract, marrying openly The lady Violante.
Jac. As you fit here The deputy of the great king, who is The fubfHlute of that impartial judge, With whom, or wealth, 'or titles, prevail nothing, Grant to a irmch-wrong'd widow, or a wife,. Your patience, with liberty to fpealc In her own caufe \ and* let me, face to face To this bad man, deliver what he is : And if my wrongs, with his ingratitude balanc'd,
Move
TM6 SPANISH CURATE. 247
Klove not compafiion, let me die unpitied ! His tears, his oaths, his perjuries, Ij)afs o'er; To think of them is a difeafe ; but death, Should I repeat them. I dare not -deny, (For innocence cannot juftify what's falfe) But all the advocate hath alledg'd concerning His falfhood, and my fhame, in my corifent, To be moft true. But now I turn to thee, To thee, don Henrique ! and, if impious acts Have left thee blood enough to make a blufh, I'll paint it on thy cheeks ! Was not the wrong Sufficient, to defeat me of mine honour j To leave me full of forrow as of want, The witnefs of thy luft left in my womb; To teftify thy falfhood, and my mame.? But, now fo many years I had conceal* d Thy moft inhuman wickednefs, and won This gentleman to hide it from the world, To father what was thine (for yet, by Heav'ri, Though in the city he pais'd for my hufbarid, He never knew me as his wife)-
Affift. 'Tis ftrange ! Give him art oath.
QSt. I gladly fwear, and truly.
Jac . After all this, I fay, when I had borne Thefe wrongs with faint-like patience^ faw another Freely enjoy what was in juftice mine, Yet ftill fo tender of thy reft and quiet, I never would divulge it, to difturb Thy peace at home ; yet thou, moft barbarous, ' To be fo carelefs of me, and my fame, (For all refpect of thine, in the firft ftep To thy bafe luft, was loft) in open court To publifh my difgrace ; and, on record, To write me up an eafy-yielding wanton, I think, can find no precedent ! In my extremes, One comfort yet is left, that though the law Divorce me from thy bed, and made free way To the unjuft embraces of another,
0.4 It
248 THE SPANISH CURATE,
It cannot yet deny that this my fon (Look up, Afcanio, fince it is come out) Is thy legitimate heir.
Jam. Confederacy !
A trick, my lord, to cheat me ! Ere you give Your fentence^- grant me hearing.
Affift. New chimeras ?
Jam. I am, my lord, fince he is without iflue,- Or hope of any, his undoubted heir : And this, forg'd by the advocate, to defeat me Of what the laws of Spain confer upon me, A meie impofture, and confpiracy Againft my future fortunes.
AJJift. You are too bold. Speak to the caufe, don Henrique.
Hen. I confefs
(Tho5 the acknowledgment muft wound my honour) That all the court hath heard touching this caufe, Or with me, or againft mo, is moft true ; The latter part, my brother urg'd, excepted. For what I now do is not out of fpleen, As he pretends, but from remorfe of confcience^ And to repair the wrong that I have done To this poor woman : And I beleech your lordfhip To think, I have not fo far loft my reafon, To bring into my family, to fucceed me, The ftranger iflue of another's bed ". By proof, this is my fon •, I challenge him. Accept him, and acknowledge him, and By -a definitive fentence of the court, He may be fo recorded •, and full pow'r To me, to take him home.
Jae. A fecond rape To the poor remnant of content that's left mey
" Tbg ftranger ij/ue of another s led'C\ It is very frequent
both with Shakefpeare and our Poets to ufe tne fab&zntive granger adjedively, prefix'd to another fubflantive : Jn the acceptation of, foreign. In confirmation of which it would be needlefs to amafs inftanccs. Ikeebald.
if
THE SPANISH CURATE. 249
If this be granted •, and all my former wrongs Were but beginnings to my miferies, But this the height of all ! Rather than part With my Afcanio, I'll deny my oath, Frofefs myfelf a {trumpet, and endure What punifhment foe'er the court decrees Againft a wretch that hath forfworn herfelf, Or play'd the impudent whore !
Affift. This taftes of paffion^ And that muft not divert the courfe of juftice. Don Henrique, take your fon, with this condition^ You give him maintenance as becomes his birth ; And 'twill ftand with your honour to do fomething For this wrong'd woman : I will compel nothing, But leave it to your will. Break up the court I It is in vain to move me \ my doom's pafs'd, And cannot be revok'd. \Exit,
Hen. There's your reward.
Ear. More caufes, and fuch fees. Now to my wife ; I have too long been abfent. Health to your lordfhip.
[Exit,
Afc. You all look ftrangely, and, I fear, believe This unexpected fortune makes me proud j Indeed, it does not : I mall ever pay you The duty of a fon, and honour you Next to my father. Good my lord, for yet I dare not call you uncle, be not fad : I never mall forget thofe noble favours You did me, being a ftranger-, and if ever" I live to be the mailer of a fortune, You mail command it.
Jam. Since it was determined I mould be cozen'd, I am glad the profit Shall fall on thee. I am too tough to melt ; But fomething I will do,
Hen. 'Pray you, take leave
O' your fteward, gentle brother, the good hufband That takes up all for you.
Jam. Very well, mock on !
It is your turn : I may have mine. ' . [Exit.
Oft,
THE SPANISH CURATE;
OR. But do not Forget us, dear Afcanio.
Afc. Do not fear it : I ev'ry day will fee you ; ev'ry hour Remember you in my pray'rs.
Jac . My grief's too great To be exprefs'd in words !
Hen. Take that, and leave us •, [Gives money to Jac. Leave us without reply. Nay, come back, firrah ;
[Exit Jac. Afc. offers to folio®. And ftudy to forget fuch things as thefe, As are not worth the knowledgei
Afc. Oh, good Sir, Theie are bad principles !
Hen. Such as you muft learn Now you are mine ; for wealth and poverty Can hold no friendlhip : And what is my will You muft obferve and do, tho' good or ill. [Exeunt,
SCENE IV.
Enter Bartolus.
fear. Where is my wife ? 'Fore Heav'n, I have done
wonders,
Done mighty things to-day. My Amaranta ! My heart rejoices at my wealthy gleanings. A rich litigious lord I love to follow, A lord that builds his happinefs on brawlings : Oh, 'tis a blefled thing to have rich clients. "Why, wife, I fay ! How fares my ftudious pupil ? Hard at it ftill ? You are too violent ; All things muft have their refts, they will not laft elfe $ Come out and breathe.
Lean, (within) I do befeech you, pardon me j I am deeply in a fweet point, Sin
Bar. I'll inftruct you :
Enter Amaranta.
1 fay, take breath j feek health firft, then your ftudy.
Oh,
THE SPANISH CURATE.
Oh, my fweet foul, I have brought thee golden birds
home,
Birds in abundance : I have done ftrange wonders ! There's more a-hatching too.
Ama. Have you done good, hufband ? Then 'tis a good day fpent.
Ear. Good enough, chicken.
I have fpread the nets o' th' law, to catch rich booties, And they come fluttering in. How does my pupil, My modeft thing ? Haft thou yet fpoken to him ?
Ama. As I pafs'd by his chamber, I might fee him j But he's fo bookifh
Ear. Andfo bafhful too; I'faith, he is ; before he'll fpeak, he'll ftarve there.
Ama. I pity him a little.
Bar. So do I too.
Ama. And if he pleafe to take the air o'th' gardens, Or walk i'th' inward rooms, fo he moleft not
Bar. He mail not trouble thee -, he dare not fpeak
to thee.
Bring out the chefs-board! Come, let's have a game, wife;
Enter Moor^ with a clefs- board. I'll try your maftery •, you fay you're cunning. Ama. As learned as you are, Sir, I mail beat you.
Enter Leandro.
Bar. Here he fteals out ; put him not out of coun tenance ;
Prithee, look another way, he will be gone elfe. Walk and refrefli yourfelf ; I'll be with you prefently.
Lean. I'll take the air a little. [Play at chefs.
Bar. 'Twill be healthful.
Ama. Will you be there ? Then, here, I'll fpare
I you that man.
Lean. 'Would I were fo near too, and a mate fitting. Ama. What think you, Sir, to this .? Have at your knight now.
252 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Bar. 'Twas fubtly play'd. Your queen lies at my
fervice.
Prithee, look off, he is ready to pop in again ; Look off, I fay •, doft thou not fee how he blufhes ?
Ama. I do not blaft him.
Lean. But you do, and burn too ! What killing looks me fteals ?
Ear. I have you now clofe ; Now for a mate.
"Lean. You are a blefied man, that may fo have hen Oh, that I might play with her ! [Knock within.
Bar. Who's there ? I come. You cannot fcape me
now, wife. I come, I come. [Knock.
Lean. Moft blefled hand, that calls him.
Bar. Play quickly, wife.
Ama. 'Pray ye, give leave to think, Sin
Enter Moor.
Moor. An honeft neighbour that dwells hard by, Sir* Would fain fpeak with your worfhip about bufmefs.
Lean. The devil blow him off.
Ear. Play.
Ama. I will ftudy :
For if you beat me thus, you will ftill laugh at me.
[Knock.
Bar. He knocks again -9 I cannot ilay. Leandro, 3Pray thee come near.
Lean. I am well, Sir, here.
Bar. Come hither : Be not afraid, but come.
Ama. Here's none will bite, Sir.
Lean. God forbid, lady !
Ama. 'Pray, come nearer.
Lean. Yes, forfooth.
Bar. 'Prithee obferve thefe men, juft as they fland
here,
And fee this lady do not alter 'em ^ And be not partial, pupil.
U^ Lean.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 253
Lean. No, indeed, Sir.
Ear. Let her not move a pawn -, I'll come back
prefently.
Nay, you lhall know I am a conqueror/ Have an eye, pupil ! [Exit.
Ama. Can you play at chefs, Sir ?
Lean. A little, lady.
Ama. But you cannot tell me How to avoid this mate, and win the game too ? (H' has noble eyes !) You dare not friend me fo far ?
Lean. I dare do any thing that's in man's pow'r,
lady, To be a friend to fuch a noble beauty.
Ama. This is no lawyer's language ! I pray you
tell me
Whither may I remove (you fee I am fet round) T'avoid my hufband ?
Lean. I mall tell you happily •, But happily you will not be inftrueted.
Ama. Yes, and I'll thank you too j mail I move this man ?
Lean. Thofe are unfeemly : Move one can f^rve you, Can honour you, can love you,
Ama. 'Pray you tell quickly j lie will return, and then •
Lean. I'll tell you inftantly : Move me, and I'll move any way to ferve you \ Move your heart; this way, lady.
Ama. How?
Lean. 'Pray you hear me. Behold the fport of love, when he's imperious ^ Behold the flave of love !
Ama. Move my queen this way ? (Sure he's fome worthy man) Then, if he hedge mea Or here to open him— —
Lean. Do but behold me ; If there be pity in you, do but view me ! But view the mifery I have undertaken
for you, the poverty ~
AmaL
THE SPANISH CURATE.
Ama. He will come prefently.
Now play your beft, Sir : Tho' I lofe this rook here, Yet I get liberty.
Lean. I'll feize your fair hand, And warm it with a hundred, hundred kifles I The god of love warm your delires but equal ! That mail play my game now.
Ama. What do you mean, Sir ? Why do you flop me ?
Lean. That you may intend rne. The time has blefl us both : Love bids us ufe it, I am a gentleman nobly defcended, Young to invite your love, rich to maintain it. I bring a whole heart to you ; thus I give it, And to thofe burning altars thus I offer, And thus, divine lips, where perpetual fpring. grows— <
Ama. Take that •, you are too faucy !
[Strikes him with the chefs-board, and throws the men.
Lean. How, proud lady ? Strike my deferts ?
I was to blame.
Enter Bartolus.
Ear. What, wife, there ! Hcav'n keep my houfe from thieves \
Lean. I am wretched ! Open'd, difcover'd, loft to all my wifhes ! I Ihall be hooted at.
Bar. What noife was this, wife ? Why doft thou- fmile ?
Lean. This proud thing will betray me.
Bar. Why thefe lie here ? What anger, dear *
Ama. Why, none Sir,
Only a chance ; your pupil faid he play'd well, And fo, indeed, he does ; he undertook for you? Becaufe I would not fit fo long time idle : I made my liberty, avoided your mate, he again as cunningly endanger'd me -,
Indeed,
THE SPANISH CURATE. 255
Indeed, he put me ftrangely to't. When prefently, Hearing you come, and having broke his ambufh too, Having the fecond time brought off my queen fair, 1 rofe o' th' fudden fmilingly to fhew you ; My apron caught the chefs- board and the men. And there the noife was.
Bar. Thou art grown a mailer j For all this I mall beat you.
Lean. Or I you, lawyer ; For now I love her more ! 'Twas a neat anfwer. And by it hangs a mighty hope ; I thank her •, She gave my pate a found knock, that it rings yet, But you mall have a founder if I live, lawyer ! My heart al^es yet ; I would not be in that fear
Bar. I am glad you are a gamefter, Sir ; fometimes. For recreation, we two mall fight hard at it.
Ama* He will prove too hard for me.
Lean. I hope he fhall do ;
But your chefs-board is too hard for my head ; line that, good lady.
£ar. I have been atoning two moft wrangling neigh bours ;
They had no money, therefore I made even. Come, let's go in, and eat ; truly, I'm hungry. •
Lean. I have eaten already ; I muft entreat your pardon.
Bar. Do as you pleafe, we mall exped y' at fupper. He has got a little heart now ; it feems handfomely.
Ama. You'll get no little head, if I don't look to you.
Lean. If ever I do catch thee again, thou vanity —
4ma. I was to blame to be fo ram ; I'm forry ! [Exe*
ACT IV. SCENE I.
Enter don Henrique, Violante* and Afcanio. lien. TTEAR but my reafons!
jfX Wo* Oh, my patience ! hear 'em ? pan cunning fallhood colour an excufe
With
256 THE SPANISH CURATE.
With any ieeming lhape of borrow'd truth, T' extenuate this wilful wrong, not error24?
Hen. You gave confent, that, to defeat my brother, I fhould take any courfe.
Vio. But not to make
The cure more loathforne than the foul difeafe. Was't not enough you took me to your bed, Tir'd with loofe dalliance, and with empty veins, All thofe abilities fpent before and wafted, That could confer the name of mother on me, But that (to perfect my account of forrow For my long barrennefs) you muft heighten it By mewing to my face, that you were fruitful, Hugg'd in the. bafe embraces of another ? If folitude, that dwelt beneath my roof, And want of children, was a torment to me, What end of my vexation, to behold A baftard to upbraid me with my wants, And hear the name of father paid to you, Yet know myfelf no mother ? What can you fay *5 ?
Hen. Shall I confefs my fault, and afk your pardon ? Will that content you ?
Vio. If it could make void
What -is confirm'd in court. No, no, don Henrique, You mall know, that I find myfelf abus'd \ And add to that, I have a woman's anger ; . And, while I look upon this bafililk, Whofe envious i6 eyes have blafted all my comforts,
34 Extenuate this wofull wrong, not error 7] The poets are robb'd, I dare fay, of the antithefis here required to fupport the vi- vaciiy of their meaning. Henrique has moft plainly been excufing Jiis conduft, and calling the Iteps he has taken erroneous : Upon which Violante would fay, Do you think to colour out an excufe nvith cunning faljhood, and extenuate the guilt of your proceedings by calling that error, which is a wilful v/rong ? And to this tenour I have ven tured to amend the text. Theobald.
2 5 What can Ifijf] The anfwer plainly Ihevvs that it fhould be you. Seaward.
26 Whofe envious eyes."] For envious, Mr. Seward fubftitutes venomous ; but we fee no need of alteration, envious being both fenfe and poetry.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 257
Reft confident, I'll ftudy my dark ends, And not your pleafures.
Afc. Noble lady, hear me •, Not as my fathers fon, but as your fervant, Vouchfafe to hear me j for fuch in my duty I ever will appear : And far be it from My poor ambition ever to look on you, But with that reverence which a (lave ftands bound To pay a worthy miftrefs. I have heard That dames of higheft place, nay queens themfelves, Difdain not to be ferv'd by fuch as are Of meaneil birth •, and 1 mall be moft happy, To be employ'd when you pleafe to command me, Even in the coarfeft office ? As your page I can wait on your trencher, fill your wine, Carry your pantofles, and be fometimes bkfs'd In all humility to touch your feet : Or if that you efteem that too much grace, I can run by your coach, obferve your looks, And hope to gain a fortune by my fervice, With your good favour-, which now, as a fon, I dare not challenge.
Via. As a fon ?
Afc. Forgive me!
I will forget the name ; let it be death For me to call you mother.
Vio. Still upbraided ?
Hen. No way left tj appeafe you ?
Vio. None. Now hear me •, Hear what I vow before the face of Heav'n, And, if I J^reak it, all plagues in this life, And thofe that after death are fear'd, fall on me ! While that this baftard (lays under my roof, Look for no peace at home, for I renounce All offices of a wife.
Hen. What am I fall'n to ?
Vio. I will not eat, nor fleep with you -, and thofe
hours Which I mould fpend in prayers for your health
VOL. II. R Shall
258 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Shall be employ'd in curfes !
Hen. Terrible!
Vio. All the day long, I'll be as tedious to you As ling'ring fevers, and I'll watch the nights, To ring aloud your fhame, and break your fleeps -; Or, if you do but Dumber, I'll appear I'th* fhape of all my wrongs, and like a fury Fright you to madnefs : And, if all this fail To work out my revenge, I've friends and kinfmen, That will not fit down tame with the difgrace That's offer' d to our noble family In what I fuffer.
Hen. How am I divided Between the duties I owe as a hufband,- And piety of a parent ?
Aft. I am taught, Sir, By the inftinct of nature, that obedience Which bids me to prefer your peace of mind Before thofe pleafures that are deareft to me : Be wholly hers, my lord ; I quit all parts That I may challenge. May you grow old together^ And no diftafte e'er find you ; and before The characters of age are printed on you, May .you fee many images of yourfelves, Though I, like fome falfe glafs, that's never look'd in,, Am calt afide and broken ! From this hour, Unlefs invited, which I dare not hope for, I never will fet my forbidden feet Over your threfhold \ only give me leave, Though caft off to the world, to mention you In my devotions, it is all I fue for -9 And ib I take my lail leave !
Hen. Though I am Devoted to a wife, nay almofl fold- A flave to ferve her pleafures, yet I cannot So part with all humanity, but I mult Shew ibmethirrg of a father ; thou ilialt not go Unfurnifn'd and unfriended too : Take that To guard theefrom neceflities. May thy goodnefs
Meet
THE SPANISH CURATE. 259
Meet many favours, and thine innocence Deferve to be the heir 2y of greater fortunes Than thou wert born to ! Scorn me not, Violante ; This banifhment is a kind of civil death j Arid now, as it were at his funeral, To fhed a tear or two is not unmanly ; And fo, farewell for ever ! One word more •, Though I muft never fee thee, my Afcariio, When this is fpent, for fo the judge decreed, Send to me for fupply. Are you pldas'd now ?
[Exit Afcanio.
Vio. Yes ; I have caufe, to fee you howl and blubber At th' parting of my torment, and your ihame. 'Tis well ! proceed ; fupply his wants ; do, do ! Let the great dow'r I brought, ferve to maintain Your baftard's riots ; fend my clothes and jewels TJ your old acquaintance, your dear dame, his mother : Now you begin to melt, I know 'twill follow.
Hen. Is all I do mifcoriftru'd ?
Vio. I will take
A' courfe to right myfelf, a fpeeding one ; By the blefs'd faints, I will ! If I prove cruel, The fhame to fee thy foolilli pity, taught me 'To lofe my natural foftnefs. Keep off from me ! Thy flatteries are infectious, and I'll flee thee As I would do a leper.
Hen. Let not fury
27 — and thine innocence
Dtfavetl)betheheir.~\ Alcanio has fhew'd fo many infhnces of innocence, that the occaiion here feems only to require a prayer that his innocence may be rewarded. I.c fhould feem therefore that tither the word de'fcr<ve mould be chang'd to arrive, or the whole fcj turn'd into an affirmation, as 1 have ventured to make it.
Mr. Seward reads,
Meet many favours, for thine innocence
Drferves to be the heir, &c. which alterations furely are unnecefftry ; the meaning being obvioufiy, May your goodnefs be rewarded, and a continuance in your prefcnt innocent flat e render you deferving of greater fortunes than your birth entitles you to.'
R 2 Tranfport
260 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Tranfport you fo •, you know I am your creature ^ All love, but to yourfelf, with him, hath left me. I'll join with you in any thing.
Vio. In vain j I'll take mine own ways, and will have no partners.
Hen. I will not crofs you.
Vio. Do not ! They fhall find, That, to a woman of her hopes bcguil'd, A viper trod on, or an afpick, 's mild. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Lopez^ Milanes^ and Arfenfo.
Lop. Sits the game there ? I have you. By mine
order, I love Leandro for't.
Mi'L But you muft fhew it In lending him your help, to gain him means And opportunity.
Lop. He mall want nothing. I know my advocate to a hair, and what Will fetch him from his pray'rs, if he ufe any. I am honey'dwhh the project ! I would have himhorn'd For a moft precious beaft.
Arf. But you lofe time.
Lop. I am gone. Inftruct you Diego -, you will
find him
A fharp and fubtile knave ; give him but hints, And he will amplify. See all things ready. I'll fetch him with a vengeance ! [Exit.
Arf. If he fail now, We'll give him over too.
Mil. Turn,, he is fleftt'd, And knows what vein to flrike for his own credit.
Arf. All things are ready.
Mil. Then we iliall have a merry fcene, ne'er fear it. [Exeunt\
SCEN
THE SPANISH CURATE. 261
SCENE III.
Enter Amaranta, with a note, and Moor.
Ama. Is thy matter gone out ?
Moor. Even now ; the Curate fetch'd him, About a ferious bufmefs, as it feem'd, For he fnatch'd up his cloak, and brufh'd his hat
ftraight, Set his band handfomely, and out he gallop'd.
Ama. 'Tis well, 'tis very well •, he went out, Egla> As luckily as one would fay, ' go, hufband !' He was call'd by providence. Fling this fhort paper Into Leandro's cell, and waken him ; He is monftrous vex'd, and mufty, at my chefs-play •, But this mail fupple him, when he has read it. Take your own recreation for two hours, And hinder nothing.
Moor. If I do, I'll hang fort. {Exeunt.
SCENE IV,
Enter Oftavio and Jacintha.
Oft. If that you lov'd Afcanio for himfelf, And not your private ends, you rather mould Blefs the fair opportunity, that reftores him To his birth-right, and the honours he was born to, Than grieve at his good fortune.
Jac. Grieve, Oclavio ? I would refign my ffTence, that he were As happy as my love could fafhion him, Though every blefling that fhould fall on him Might prove a curfe to me ! My forrow fprings £)ut of my fear and doubt he is not fafe. I am acquainted with don Henrique's nature, And I have heard too much the fiery temper Of madam Violante : Can you think
me, that almoft is at war with Heav'n
R For
262 THE SPANISH CURATE.
For being barren, will with equal eyes Behold a fon of mine ?
Off. His father's care, .
That, for the want of iffue, took him home, Though with the forfeiture of his own fame, Will look unto his fafety.
Jac. Stepmothers
Have many eyes, to find a way to mifchief, Though blind to goodnefs.
Enter Jamie and Afcanlo.
. • i
Off. Here cornes don Jamie, And with him our Afcanio.
Jam. Good youth, leave me ; I know thou art forbid my company, And, only to be feen with me, will call on Thy father's anger.
Afc. Sir, if that to ferve you Could lofe me any thing, as indeed jt cannot, 1 ilill would follow you. Alas, I was born To do you hurt, but not to help myfelf ! 1 was, for fome particular end, took home, But am call: off again.
Jam. Is't poiTible >
Afc. The lady, whom my father calls his wife, Abhors my fight, is fick of me, and forc'd him To turn me out of doors.
Jac. By my beft hopes,
I thank her cruelty ; for it comes ncar^ *wshg A laving charity!
Afc. 1 am only happy
That yet I can relieve you ; 'pray you, fhare-ir ; My father's- wondrous kind, and promifes/^.rf^ That I mould be lupplied : But fore the lady Is a malicious woman, and I fear Means me no good.
Enter Servant.
Jam. I am turn'd a (tone with wonder, And know not what to think.
tor.
THE SPANISH CURATE, 263
Ser. From my lady, Your private ear, and this
Jam. New miracles r
Ser. She fays, if you dare make yourfelf a fortune, She will propofe the means. My lord don Henrique Is now from home, and {he alone expects you : If you dare truit her, fo ^ if not, delpair of A fecond offer. [Exit.
Jam. Though there were an ambufti Laid for my life, I'll on, and found this fecret. Retire thee, my Afcanio, with thy mother ; But ilir not forth ; fome great defign's on foot. Fall what can fall, if, ere the fun be let, I fee you not, give me for dead.
Afc. We will expect you,
And thofe blefs'd angels that love goodnefs guard yqg !
[Exeunt.
S C E N E V.
Enter Lopez and Eartolus.
Ear, Is't poflible he fhould be rich ?
Lop. Moil poflible ;
He hath been long, though he'd but little gettings. Drawing together, Sir.
Ear. Accounted a poor fexton ; Honefl, poor Diego.
Lop. I affure you, a clofe fellow j Both clofe and fcraping, and that fills the bags, Sir.
Ear. A notable good-fellow too*8.
Lop. Sometimes, Sir -t
When he hop'd to drink a man into a furfeit, That he might gain by his grave.
Bar. So many thoufands ?
Lop. Heav'n knows what.
Bar. 'Tis flrange,
zs A notable Good-fellow too.'] Goad-fellow, in this place, means a boon companion^ a bottle-friend, as the anfcer demonilratej,
R 4 'Tis
264 THE SPANISH CURATE. 'Tis very ftrange. But, we fee, by endeavour, And honeft labour
Lop. Milo, by continuance,
Grew, from a filly calf (with your worfhip's reverence) To carry a bull. From a penny to a pound, Sir, And from a pound to many : JTis the progrefs.
Bar. You fay true ; but he lov'd to feed well alfo, And that, methinks
Lop. From another man's trencher, Sir, And there he found it feafon'd with fmall charge ; There he would play the tyrant, and would devour you More than the graves he made : At home he liv'd Like a cameleon, fuck'd the air of mifery,
\^abk fet out^ ftandijh, paper , and fools. And grew fat by the brewis of an egg-mell ; Would fmell a cook's mop, and go home and forfeit, And be a month in fading out that fever.
Ear. Thefe are good fymptoms. Does he lie fa fick, fay you, ?
Lop. Oh, very fick.
Bar. And chofen me executor ?
Lop. Only your worlhip.
Ear. No hope of his amendment ?
Lop. None, that we find.
Bar. He hath no kinfmen neither P
Lop. 'Truth, very few.
Bar. His mind will be the quieter. What doctors has he ?
Lop. There's none, Sir, he believes in.
Bar. They are but needlefs things, in fuch extre mities. Who draws the good man's will ?
Lop. Marry that do I, Sir ; And to my grief.
Bar. Grief will do little now, Sir-, Draw it to your comfort, friend, and as I couniel you An honeft man ; but fuch men live nat always. Who are about him ?
Lop. Many, now he is palling,
That
THE SPANISH CURATE. 265
That would pretend t' his love, yes, and fome gentle men o
That would fain counfel him, and be of his kindred ; Rich men can want no heirs, Sir.
Bar. They do ill,
Indeed they do, to trouble him -, very ill, Sir. But we mall take a care.
Enter •, with Diego in a bed^ Milanes, Arfenio, and Parifbioners.
Lop. Will you come near, Sir ? 'Pray you bring him out. Now you may fee in what
flate
Give him frelh air.
Bar. I am forry, neighbour Diego, To find you in fo weak a ftate,
Die, You're welcome ; But I am fleeting, Sir.
Bar. Methinks he looks well ; His colour frefh, and ftrong •, his eyes are chearful.
Lop. A glimmering before death ; 'tis nothing elfe^
Sir,
PO you fee how he fumbles with the meet i9 ? do you note that ?
Die. My learned Sir, 'pray you fit. , I am bold to
fend for you, To take a care of what I leave.
Lop. Do you hear that-?
Arf. Play the knave finely ! -\
Die. So I will, I warrant you, > Apart.
And carefully. j
Bar. 'Pray ye do not trouble him «, You fee he's weak, and has a wand'ring fancy.
Die. My honeft neighbours, weep not-, I muft
leave ye, I cannot always bear ye company.
29 Do you feeho-iv he fumbles 'with the fleet.] This appears to be an impotent attack OR the defcription of Falftaffe's death, in Shakefpeare' s Henry V.
We
THE SPANISH CURATE.
We mud drop fall •, there is no remedy. 'Pray ye, mailer Curate, will you write my teftament, And write it largely, it may be remember'd ? And be witnefs to my legacies, good gentlemen. Your worfhip I do make my full executor;
[To Bartolus.
You are a man of wit and underiland'ng. Give me a cup of wine to raife my fpirits, For I fpeak low. I would, before thefe neighbours, Have you to fwear, Sir, that you'll fee it executed, And what I give let equally be render'd, For my foul's health.
Bar. I vow it truly, neighbours ; Let not that trouble you ; before alj thefe, Once more I give my oath. • Die. Then let me higher, ,And pray ye come near me all.
Lop. We're ready for you.
Mil. Now fpur the afs, and get our friend time !
[Apart.
Lie. Firft then,
After I have given my body to the worms (For they mufl be ferv'd firil, they're feldom cq- zen'd)—
Lop. Remember your parifh, neighbour,
Die. You fpeak truly ; I do remember it, a lewd vile parifh, And pray it may be mended : To the poor of it, Which is to all the parifh, I give nothing ; por nothing unto nothing is mofl natural 5 Yet leave as much fpace as will build an hofpital, Their children may pray for me.
Bar. What do you give to it ?
Die. Set down two thoufand ducats.
Bar. 'Tis a good gift, And will be long remember'd.
Die. To your worfhip,
Becaufe you mufl take pains to fee all finifh'd, I give two thoufand more—it may be three, Sir — -
A poor
THE SPANISH CURATE. 267
A poor gratuity for your pains-taking.
Bar. Thefe are large fums.
Lop. Nothing to him that has 'em.
Die. To my old mafter Vicar I give five hundred ; Five hundred and five hundred are too few, Sir, But there be more to ferve.
Bar. This fellow coins fure.
Die. Give me fome more drink. Pray ye buy books,
buy books,
You have a learned head, fluff it with libraries, And underfland 'em when ye have done, 'tis juilice. Run not the parim mad witji controverfies, Nor preach up abftinence to longing women, 'Twill purge the bottoms of their confciences. I'd give the church new organs, but I prophefy The churchwardens would quickly pipe 'em out o5 th'
parim.
Two hundred ducats more to mend the chancel, And to paint true orthography, as many They write funt with a £, which is abominable : *Pray you fet that down. To poor maidens' mar/- riages — — r-
Lop. Ay, that's well thought of j what's your will
in that point ? A meritorious thing.
Ear. No end of this will ?
Die. I give 'per annum two hundred ells of lockram 3°? That there be no ilrait dealings in their linens, But the fails cut according to their burdens. To all bell-ringers I bequeath new ropes, And let them ufe 'em at their own difcretions.
Arf. You may remember us.
3° Two Hundred ells of lockram".] Lockram was a kind of linen. It is mentioned by Shakefpeare in Coriolanus, act ii. and, in confir mation of this explanation, the 'laft Editor of that Author hath produced the following examples : Greene, in his Vifion, defcribing the drefs of a man, fays, * His ruffe was of fine lockram^ itiched
* very fair with Coventry blue.' And in Glapthorne's Wjt in a Cori- ilable, 1639, ' Thou thought'ft, becaufe I did wear lockram fhirts,
* I had no wit.* R.
Die.
THE SPANISH CURATE.
Die. I do, good gentlemen ; And I bequeath ye both good careful furgeons, A legacy ye have need of more than money ; I know ye want good diets, and good lotions, And, in your pleafures, good take-heed.
Lop. He raves now -9 But 'twill be quickly off.
Die. I do bequeath ye
Commodities of pins, brown papers, packthreads, Roaft pork, and puddings, gingerbread, and jews-
trumps,
Of penny pipes, and mouldy pepper, take *em, Take *em even where you pleale, and be cozen'd witBt
'em;
I mould bequeath ye executions alfo, But thofe I'll leave to th' law.
Lop. Now he grows temperate.
Bar. You'll give no more ?
'Die. I am loth to give more from you, Becaufe I know you'll have a care to execute. £)nly, to pious ufes, Sir, a little.
Bar. If he be worth all thele, I'm made for ever,
Die. I give to fatal dames, that fpin mens' threads
out?
And poor diftrefied damfels, that are militant As members of o.ur own afflictions, A hundred crowns to buy warm tubs to work in. I give five hundred pounds to buy a church-yard, A fpacious church-yard, to lay thieves and knaves in ; Rich men and honeft men take all the room up.
Lop. Are you not weary ?
Die. Never of well-doing.
Bar. Thefe are mad legacies.
Die. They were got as madly •, My fheep, and oxen, and my moveables, My plate, and jewels, and five hundred acres; I have no heirs.
Bar. This cannot be •, 'tis monflrous.
Die. Three mips at fea too.
Bar.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 26$
Bar. You have made me full executor ?
Die. Full, full, and total; would I had more to
give you ; But thefe may ferve an horeeft mind.
Bar. You fay true,
A very honeft mind, and make it rich too ; Rich, wondrous rich ! But, where mail I raife thefe
monies ?
About your houfe, I fee no fuch great promifes JI. Where fhall I find thefe fums ?
Die. Ev'n where you pleafe, Sir ; You're wife and provident, and know bufinefs. Ev'n raife 'em where you mall think good ; I'm rea-
fonable.
Bar. Think good ? will that raife thoufands ? What do you make me ?
Die. You have fworn to fee it done ; that's all my
comfort. Bar. Where I pleafe ? This is pack'd fure to dif-
grace me !
Die. You're juft, and honeft, and I know you'll do it ; Ev'n where you pleafe, for you know where the
wealth is.
Bar. I am abus'd, betray'd ! I'm laugh'd at, fcorn'd, Baffled, and boor'd, k feems ! Arf. No, no ; you are fool'd. Lop. Moft finely fool'd, and handfomely, and neatly-, Such cunning mailers muft be fool'd fometimes, Sir, And have their wormips' nofes wip'd ; 'tis healthful. We are but quit : You fool us of our monies, In every caufe, in every quiddit wipe us.
Die. Ha, ha, ha, ha ! forne more drink, for my heart,
gentlemen. This merry lawyer — Ha, ha, ha, ha ! this fcholar —
I think this fit will cure me ! This executor
I mall laugh out my lungs !
31 Such great promifes ;} Mr. Sympfon conjedlures that the
lawyer would naturally ufe the woru prcmifts, but Teems unwilling to difturb the text.
Bar,
2)0 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Bar. This is derifion above fufPrance ; villanjf Plotted and fet againft me !
Die. Faith, 'tis knavery ; In troth, I muft confefs thou art fool'd indeed, lawyer;
Mil. Did you think, had this mari been rich —
Ear. 'Tis well, Sir.
Mil. He would have chofen iuch a wolf> a canker^ A maggot, rat, to be his whole executor Ji ?
Lop. A lawyer, that entangles all mens' honefbies^ Lives like a fpider in a cobweb lurking, And catching at all flies that pafs his pit-falls, Puts powder to all fcates, to make 'em caper, Would he truft you ? Do you deferve •
Die. I find, gentlemen, This cataplafm of a well-cozeh'd lawyer Laid to my ftomac*h, lenities my fever : Methinks I could eat now, and walk a little';
Ear. I am afham'd to feel how flat I'm cheated ; How grolsly, and malicioufly^ made a may-game \
A damned trick ! My wife, my wife ! Some rafcal ;
My credit, and my wife ! Some luftful villain, Some bawd, fome rogue
Arf. Some craftfman, fool, has found you "j This 'tis, Sir, to teach you to be too bufy, To covet all the gains, and all the rumours^ To have a flirring oar in all mens5 aclions.
Lop. We did this but to vex your fine orficioufriefs.
Bar. Good yield you, and good thank you ! I arri fool'd, gentlemen !
31 A maggot- pate, to be his whole executor?] Whimfical idle matter brain'd people are frequently called maggot-patcd: but this is by no means the lawyer's characler, nor does it fine with the two former titles, which both imply villany and eating into other mens eftates. My corjeclure is near the trace of the letters, and will, I hope, be allow'tl. Seivard.
" Some crafty fool has found you :~\ It. cannot be fuppcfcd that Arfeniowouldcp.il Leandro a/oo/, and the reading therefore is proba bly corrupt i mine is very near it^ and is not liable to the lame objec tion ; and tho' I do not remember the word craftfman in our Au thors, yet it is ufed in the fame fenfe by Fairfax in his excellent tranflation of Taffo. Seward.
The
THE SPANISH CURATE. 271
The lawyer is an afs, I do confefs it,
A weak, dull, fhallow afs ! Good even to your wor-
fhips !
Vicar, remember, vicar ! Rafcal, remember, Thou notable nch rafcal !
Die. I do remember, Sir.
'Pray you flay a little •, I have ev'n two legacies, To make your mouth up, Sir.
Bar. Remember, varlets,
Quake, and remember, rogues, I have brine for your buttocks ! [Exit.
Lop. Oh, how he frets, and fumes now, like a dunghill !
Die. His gall contains fine fluff now to make poifons, Rare damned fluff !
Arf. Let's after him, and ftill vex him, And take my friend off. By this time he has profper'd ; He cannot lofe this dear time, 'tis impoilible.
Mil. Well, Diego, thou haft done.
Lop. Haft done it daintily.
Mil. 7\nd malt be as well paid, boy.
Arf. Go; let's crucify him. [Exeunf.
SCENE VI.
• Enter Amaranta and Leandro.
Lean. I've told you all my ftory, and how defpe- rately
Ama. I do believe. Let's walk on •, time is precious. Not to be fpent in words •, here no more wooing, v The open air's an enemy to lovers. Do as I tell you. . Lean. I'll do any thing : I am fo over-joy'cl, I'll fly to ferve you.
Ama. Take your joy moderately, as 'tis rniriifter'd, And as the caufe invites : That man's a fool, Thaty at the fight o' th' bond, dances and leaps,; Then is the true joy, when the money comes.
Lean.
THE SPANISH CURATE,
, Lean. You cannot now deny me.
Ama. Nay, you know not; Women have crotchets, and ffrange fits.
Lean. You mall not.
Ama. Hold you to that, and fwear it confidently, Then I mail make a fcruple to deny you. 'Pray you let's Hep in, and fee a friend of mine ; The weather's fharp : We'll flay but half an hour, We may be mifs'd elfe : A private fine houfe 'tis$ Sir, And we may find many good welcomes.
Lean. Do, lady -y Do, happy lady !
Ama. All your mind's of doing f You mull be modeller.
Lean. I will be any thing. [Exeunt.
SCENE VII.
Enter Bartolus.
Bar. Open the doors, and give me room to chafe in, Mine own room, and my liberty ! Why, maid, there ! Open I fay, and do not anger me ! I'm fubjeft to much fury. When, you dim-clout, When do you come ? Afleep, you lazy hell-hound ? Nothing intended but your eaie, and eating ? Nobody here ? Why, wife ! why, wife ! why, jewel [ No tongue to anfwer me ? Prithee, good pupil, Difpenfe a little with thy careful fludy, And flep to th' door, and let me in. Nor he neither ? Ha ! not at's fludy ? nor afleep ? nor nobody ? I'll make ye hear ! The houfe of ignorance ! ND found inhabits here. I have a key yet, That commands all. I fear I'm metamorphos'd ! [Exit.
Enter Lopez, Arfenio^ Milanes, and Diego. Lop. He keeps his fury dill, and may do mifchief. ML He mall be hang'd firftj we'll be ilicklers there, boys.
Die.
THE SPANISH CURATE.
"Die. The hundred thoufand dreams now that pof-
fefs him,
Of jealoufy, and frailty ; of revenge, Of drawing bills againfl us, and petitions !
Lop. And cafting what his credit mall recover.
Mil. Let him caft 'till his maw come up •, we care not. You fhall be (till fecur'd. [A great noife within.
Die. We'll pay him home then. Hark, what a noife he keeps within.
Lop. Certain, H' has fet his chimnies o' fire, or the devil roars there.
Die. The codixes o' th' law are broke loofe, gentle men.
Arf^ He's fighting, fure.
Die. I'll tell you that immediately. [Exit.
Mil. Or doing fome ilrange outrage on himfelf. >
Arf. Hang him, he dares not be fo valiant.
Enter Diego.
Die. There's nobody at home, and he chafes like a
lion, And ftinks withal ! [Noife Jtill.
Lop. Nobody?
Die. Not a creature ;
Nothing within, but he and his law- temped ! The ladles, dimes, kettles, how they fly all ! And how the glafTes through the rooms.
Enter Bartolus.
Arf. My friend fure
Has got her out, and now h' has made an end on't. Lop. See where the fea comes ! how it foams and bruftles'4?
The
34- — brujlles?] Not knowing this .word, I have ventured to ftrike out ther ; brijlles would make an inconfiitent metaphor with the fea.
Seaward. I fuppofe the line once to have run in this manner,
See where the (eal comes.
The feai, i. e. fea-calf, an appellation fcvcre enough in all confdence , VOL. II. S and
274 THE SPANISH CURATE.
The great leviathan o5 ths law, how it tumbles ?
Bar. Made ev'ry way an afs ? abus'd on all fides ? And from all quarters people come to laugh at me ? Rife like a comet, to be wonder'd at ? A horrid comet, for boys' tongues, and ballads ? I will run from my wits !
Enter Amaranta and Leandro.
Arf. Do, do, good lawyer, And from thy money too ; then thou wilt be quiet,
Mil. Here me comes home ! Now mark the falu~
tations. How like an afs my friend goes ?
Arf. She has pull'd his ears down.
Bar. Now, what fweet voyage? to what garden, lady? Or to what coufm's houfe ?
Ama. Is this my welcome ? I cannot go to church, but thus I am fcandal'd ; Ufe no devotion for my foul, but, gentlemen
Ear. To church ?
Ama. Yes •, and you keep fweet youths to wait upon
me,
Sweet hred-up youths, to be a credit to me ! There's your delight again ; pray take him to you ^ He never comes near me more to debafe me.
Bar. How's this ? how's this ? Good wife, how has he wrong'd you ?
Ama. I was fain to drive him like a fheep before me : I blufh to think how people fleer'd, and fcorn'd me. Others have handfome men, that know behaviour, Place, and obfervance-, this filly thing knows nothing, Cannot tell ten, let every rafcaljuftle me;
and reafon ? and how clearly does the remaining part of the line eftab- lifti this reading,
See where the feal come s, bow be fames and bruflles. i. e. briftles. '' Sympfon.
We do not think the word feal fo proper as fea, nor fo likely to be the right reading as the old and received one. Bruftles might, however, be genuine ; it is exprcSive, tho% perhaps, in no dictionary..
And :
THE SPANISH CURATE. 275
And dill I pufh'd him on, as he had been coming 3S.
Bar. Ha ! did you pufh him on ? is he fo ftupid ?
Ama. When others were attentive to the pried, Good devout gentleman, then fell he fad, Fall, found afleep : Then firft began the bagpipes, The feveral flops on's nofe made a rare mufick, A rare and loud, and thofe play'd many an anthem. Put out of that, he fell ilraight into dreaming.
Arf. As cunning as die's fweet ! I like this carnage.
Ear. What did he then ?
Ama. Why, then he talk'd in's deep too. Nay, I'll divulge your moral virtues, fheeps-face ! And talk'd aloud, that ev'ry ear was fix'd to him : Did not I fuffer, do you think, in this time ? Talk of your bawling law, of appellations, Of declarations, and excommunications, Warrants, and executions, and fuch devils, That drove all th' gentlemen out o' th' church, by
hurries,
With execrable oaths they'd ne'er come there again. Thus am I ferv'd and man'd I
Lean. I pray you forgive me ; I mud confefs I am not fit to wait upon you.
35 As lye bad been coming.] As neither Mr. Sympfon nor I can affix any idea to this reading, I have been forc'd to take an unufual liberty, rather than leave nonfenfe in the text. I have, however, known feveral corrupt readings that have departed more from what was de- monftrably the original, than my correction fuppofesthis to have done; and as the fenfe I give feems perfectly natural, it is probable it might have been the Authors1. It muil be obferved that in molt countries abroad, it is the cuttom for fervants to walk before, not after their miltreffes ; it is, I know, in Italy, and I fuppofe our Authors knew it to be fo in Spain. She fays therefore, inftead of clearing the way for me, I was forc'd to pufh him forwards, or he would have lag'd behind me, as if he had been the woman. Since I wrote this note, a friend to whom I fhew'd it, hit off another reading which I think full as pro bable as my own. He would read, And ftill Ipujh^d him on. Was that becoming ? Seward.
Mr. Sevvard reads, And ftill 1 pufly d him on as he'd been the woman. We have followed the old reading, becaufe we confefs ourfelves ut terly at a lofs what word to fubflitute in ;he place Qicomming, which, is probably a corruption.
S 2, Alas,
276 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Alas, I was brought up
Ama. To be an afs, A lawyer's afs, to carry books, and buckrams !
Ear. But what did you at church ?
Lop. At church, did you afk her ? Do you hear, gentlemen P do you mark that queflion ? Becaufe you're half an heretic yourfelf, Sir, Would you breed her too ? This iliall to th' Inquifition. A pious gentlewoman reprov'd for praying ! I'll fee this fil'd ; and you mail hear further, Sir.
Arf. You have an ill heart.
Lop. It mall be found out, gentlemen ; There be thofe youths will fearch it.
Die. Ypu are warm, fignior^ But a faggot will warm you better : We are witnefles.,
Lop. Enough to hang him, do not doubt.
Mil. Nay certain^ I do believe h'has rather no religion.
Lop. i That muft be known too. Becaufe me goes
to church, Sir ! O, monflrum informe ingens !
Die. Let him go on, Sir ; His wealth will build a nunnery, a fair ohef And this good lady, when he's hang'd and rotten, May there be abbefs.
Bar. You are cozCn'd, honeft gentlemen ! I do not forbid the ufe, but the form, mark me.
Lop. Form ? what do you make of form ?
Bar. They will undo me •, Swear, as I oft have done, and fo betfay me ! I muft make fair way, and hereafter — Wife, You're welcome home, and henceforth take your
pleafure •,
Go when you (hall think fit, I will not hinder you -, My eyes are open now, and I fee my error — My Ihame, as great as that, but I muft hide it : The whole conveyance now I fmell $ but, bafta j6 / Another time muft ferve — You fee us friends now,
*6 Bafta.] It is enough. Spanifh.
R.
Heartily
THE SPANISH CURATE. 277
Heartily friends, and no more chiding, gentlemen ; I have been too foolifh, I confefs ; no more words, No more, fweet wife.
Ama. You know my eafy nature.
Ear. Go, get you in : You fee me has been angry : Forbear her fight a while, and time will pacify ^ And learn to be more bold.
Lean. I would I could -y I will do all I am able. [.Exit.
Bar. Do, Leandro. We will not part, but friends of all hands.
Lop. Well faid j Now you are reafonable, we can look on you.
Bar. Ye have jerkt me ; but for all that I forgive ye, Forgive ye heartily, and do invite ye To-morrow to a breakfafl, I make but feldom ; But now we will be merry.
Arf. Now you are friendly, Your doggednefs and niggardize flung from you. And now we will come to you.
Ear. Give me your hands, all ! You mall be welcome heartily.
Lop. We will be, For we'll eat hard.
Bar. The harder, the more welcome ; And, till the morning, farewell ! I have bufmefs. [Exit. ML Farewell, good bountiful Bartolus ! }Tis a brave
wench,
A fudden witty thief, and worth all fervice. Go, we'll all go, and crucify the lawyer.
Die. I'll clap four tier of teeth into my mouth more? But I will grind his fubftance.
Arf. Well, Leandro,
Thou haft had a ftrange voyage, but I hope Thou rid'ft now in fafe harbour.
Mil. Let's go drink, friends, And laugh aloud at all our merry may-games.
Lop. A match, a match ! 'twill whet our flomachs better. [Exeunt.
S3 A C S
278 THE SPANISH CURATE.
ACT V. SCENE I.
Violante and Servant. ••. ?-;:;
^•T\ /TAD AM, he's come. \Chair andflooh out.
IVJL Viol 'Tis well. How did he look When he knew from whom you were fent ? Was he
not ftartled ? Or confident or fearful ?
Ser. As appear'd,
Like one that knew his fortune at the worft, And car'd not what could follow.
Viol. 'Tis the better.
Reach me a chair. So ^ bring him in ; be careful That none diilurb us. I will try his temper •, And, if I find him apt for my employments, I'll work him to my ends -9 if not, I mail Find other engines.
Enter Jamie and Servant.
Ser. There's my lady.
Viol. Leave us. -V
Jam. You fent for me ?
Viol. I did : And does the favour, Your prefent Hate confider'd, and my power,, Deferve no greater ceremony ?
Jam. Ceremony ?
I ufe to pay that where I do owe duty, Not to my brother's wife : 1 cannot fawn ; If you expect it from me, you are cozen'd j And fo farewell.
Viol: He bears up dill ; I like it. , [4/!fa
Pray you a word.
Jam. Yes -, I will give you hearing J On equal terms, and fit by you as a friend, But not fland as a fuitor ? Now, your pleafure. "•£*' Viol.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 279
¥iol. You're very bold.
Jam. 'Tis fit, fmce you are proud : I was not made to feed that foolifh humour, With flatt'ry and obfervance.
Viol. Yet, with your favour, A little form, join'd with refpect, to her That can add to your wants, dr free you from 'em, Nay, raife you to a fate beyond your hopes, Might well become your wifdom.
Jam. It v/ould rather Write me a fool, mould I but only think That any good to me coul,d flow from you, Whom for fo many years I've found and prov'd My greateft enemy. I am ftill the fame ; My wants have not transform'd me : I dare tell you, To your new-cerus'd face, what I have fpoken Freely behind your back, what I think of you ! You are the proudeil thing, and have the leaft Reafon jto be fo, that I ever read of. In flature you're a giantefs ; and your taylor Takes meafure of you with a Jacob's flaff, Or he can never reach you : This by the way, For your large fize. Now, in a word or two, To treat of your complexion were decorum 37 : You are fo far from fair, I doubt your mother Was too familiar with the Moor that ferv'd her. Your limbs and features I pafs briefly over, As things not worth defcription •, and come roundly To your foul, if you have any-, for 'tis doubtful.
Viol. I laugh at this ! Proceed.
Jam. This foul I fpeak of, Or rather fait to keep this heap of flem From being a walking ftench, like a large inn Stands open, for the entertainment of
.. 37 To treat of your complexion were decorum.~\ Mr. Sympfon reads, to treat of your complexion with decorum. We think his variation ex ceedingly improper ; the Author's meaning appearing to be, ' Having treated of your flature, I {hall, *witb propriety, mention your com plexion, which is fo far from fairt &c^
/ S 4
28o THE SPANISH CURATE.
All impious practices : But there's no corner
An honed thought can take up. And, as it were not
Sufficient in yourfelf to comprehend
All wicked plots, you've taught the fool my brother,
By your contagion, almofl to put off
The nature of the man, and turn'd him devil,
Becaufe he mould be like you ; and I hope
You'll march to Hell together. I have ipoken ;
And if the limning you in your true colours
Can make the painter gracious, I ftand ready
For my reward ; or if my words diftafte you,
I weigh it; not, for though your grooms were ready
To cut my throat for't, be affur'd I cannot
Ufe other language.
Viol. You think you have faid now Like a brave fellow. In this woman's war You ever have been train'd ^ fpoke big, but fuffer'd Like a tame afs ; and, when moil fpurr'd and gall'd^ Were never mailer of the fpleen or ipirit That could raife up the anger of a man, And force it into action.
Jam. Yes, vile creature, Wert thou a fubject worthy of my fword, Or that thy death, this moment, could call home My banifh'd hopes, thou now wert dead ; dead,
woman !
But, being as thou art, it is fufficient I fcorn thee, and contemn thee !
Viol. This jfhews nobly, I muil confefs it : I am taken with it ; For had you kneel'd, and whin'd, and fhew'd a bafe And low dejected mind, I had defpis'd you. This bravery, in your adverfe fortune, conquers And does command me ; and, upon the fudden, I feel a kind of pity growing in me, For your misfortunes : Pity, fome fay, 's the parent Of future love ; and I repent my part So far in what you've fuffer'd, that I could (But you are cold) do fomething to repair
What;
THE SPANISH CURATE. 285
What your bafe brother (fuch, Jamie, I think him) Path brought to ruin.
Jam. Ha ?
VioL Be not amaz'd : Our injuries are equal in his baftard! You are familiar with what I groan for ; And though the name of hufband holds a tie Beyond a brother, I, a poor weak woman, Am fenfible and tender of a wrong.; And, to revenge it, would break through all lets, That durfl oppofe me.
Jam. Js it poflible ?
Viol. By this kifs ! Start not. Thus much, as a
llranger,
You may take from me ; but, if you were pleas'd, I mould felecl: you as a bofom friend j | would print 'em thus, and thus.
Jam. Keep off.
VioL Come near:,
Nearer j8, into the cabinet of my counfels ! Simplicity and patience dwell with fools, And let them bear thofe burdens, which wife men Boldly make off ! Be mine, and join with me -9 j$.nd when that I have rais'd you to a fortune, (Do not deny yourfelf the happy means) You'll look on me with more judicious eyes, And fwear I am moft fair.
Jam. What would this woman ? The purpofe of thefe words ? Speak not in riddles ^ And when I underftand what you would counfel. My anfwer fhall be fudden.
Viol. Thus then, Jamie : The objects of our fury are the fame ; For young Afcanio, whom you fnake-like hugg'd (Frozen with wants to death) in your warm bofom3 Lives to fupplant you in your certain hopes, And kills in me all comfort.
*8 Near into.'} This is one of Mr. Theobald's marginal correfh'ons, which both reftores the verfe and heightens the fentiment. Seiuard.
* • •>
282 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Jam. Now 'tis plain j 1 apprehend you : And, were he remov'd
Viol You, once again, were the undoubted heir,
Jam. 'Tis not to be deny'd : I was ice before, But now you've fir'd me.
Viol. I'll add fuel to it : And, by a nearer cut, do you but fleer As I direct you, we'll bring our bark into The port of happinefs. V
Jam. How ?
Viol. By Henrique's death !
But, you'll fay, he's your brother : In great fortunes, Which are epitomes of flates and kingdoms, The politic brook no rivals.
Jam. Excellent!
For fure I thinjt, out of a fcrupulous fear, To feed in expectation, when I may, Difpenfing but a little with my confcience, Come into full poflefTion, would not argue One that defir'd to thrive.
Viol. Now you fpeak like A man that knows the world.
Jam. I needs muft learn,
That have fo good a tut'refs. And what think you, (Don Henrique and Afcanio cut off) That none may live that mall defire to trace us In our black paths, if that Oclavio, His f oiler-father, and the fad Jacintha, (Faith, pity her, and free her from her forrows) Should fall companions with 'em ? When we're red With murder, let us often bathe in blood -9 The colour will be fcarlet.
Viol. And that's glorious, And will protect the fad.
Jam. Suppofe this done : If undiicover'd, we may get for money (As that, you know, buys any thing in Rome) A difpenfation.
Viol. And be married? x^ >,
•';*&* Jami
THE SPANISH CURATE. 283
Jam. True.
Or, if it be known, trufs up our gold and jewels, And fly to fome free ftate, and there with fcorn
Viol. Laugh at the laws of Spain. 'Twere admirable !
Jam. We ihall beget rare children. I am rapt with The mere imagination ! " Viol. Shall it be done ?
Jam. Shall? 'tis too tedious. Furnifh me with
means
To hire the inftruments, and to yourfelf Say it is done already. I will fhew you, Ere the fun fet, how much you've wrought upon me; Your province is only to ufe fome means To fend my brother to the grove, that's neighbour To the weft port o' th' city •, leave the reft To my own practice. I have talk'd too long, But now will do ! This kifs, with my confefTron, To work a fell revenge a man's a fool, If not inftrufted in a woman's fchool. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Bartolus, Alguazils, and an Apparitor.
The table fet out, and ftools. Bar. Ye are well enough difguis'd ; furnim the table; Make no mow what ye are, till I difcover : Not a foul knows you here : Be quick and diligent. Thefe youths I have invited to a breakfaft?
But what the fauce will be 1 am of opinion
I ihall take off the edges of their appetites,
And greafe their gums for eating heartily
This month or two. They have play'd their prizes
with me, , And with their feveral flirts they've lighted danger-
oufly39^, But fure I mall be quit ! I hear 'em coming.
' ' Go
39 And with their federal flurts they've lighted dangeroufly.] I $an fcarce affix any idea to the old reading, nor am I fatisfied with
284 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Go off, and wait the bringing-in your fervice,
And do it handibmely : You know where to have it*
Enter Milanes, Arfenio^ Lopez, and Diego,
Welcome, i* faith.
drf. That's well faid, honeft lawyer.
Lop. Said like a neighbour.
gar. Welcome, all ! All's over 4°, And let's be merry.
Mil. To that end we came, Sir ; An hour of freedom's worth an age of juglings.
J)ie. I am come too, Sir, to fpecify my itomach A poor retainer to your worfhip's bounty.
Bar. And thou malt have it fill'd, my merry Diego, My liberal, and my bonny bounteous Diego j Even fill'd till it groan again.
Die. Let it have fair play, And if it founder, then — -r-
$0r, I'll tell ye, neighbours ; Tho' I were angry yefterday with ye all, And very angry, for methought ye .bobb'd me— — •
Lop. No, no, by no means.
B$%, No, when I confider'd It was a jeft, and carried off fo quaintly, It made me merry, very merry, gentlemen. I do confefs I could not deep to think on't ; The mirth fo tickled me, I could npt (lumber.
Lop. Good mirth does always work fo, honeft mirth.. Now, mould we've meant in earned
my own conjecture [fubitituting dangers for dangeroufly\ ; it only feems the belt of four that occurred, viz. they've flighted me, or they've flighted dangers, Of lighted anger. Seaward.
Lighted we underftand to mean trifled', and Bartolus to fay, ' thcfe ft-veral flirts, or affronts, they have put on me, they think f lightly of, but they lhall find that they hwt trifled dangeroufly.
4° Welcome all: all over,
And let's be merry.] The pointing of the firft line muft be wrong, \i be only reiterates their welcome ; but by the infertion I have made, the fenfe is quite different, and I think much, better j viz. All affronts are forgot, and let's be merry. Sympfon.
THE SPANISH CURATE. l£|
Bar. You fay true, neighbour.
Lop. It might have bred fuch a diftafte and fournefs, Such fond imaginations in your brains. Sir, For things thruft home in earneft
Bar. Very certain ;
But I know ye all for merry wags, and ere long Ye mail know me too in another fafhion ; Tho' ye're pamper'd, ye mail bear part o' th' burden.
Enter Amaranta and Leandro.
Come, wife ; come, bid 'em welcome-, come, my jewel! And, pupil, you mail come too. Ne'er hang backward ; Come, come, the woman's pleas'd, her anger's over ; Come, be not bafhful.
Ama. What does he prepare here ? Sure there's no meat i* th' houfe, at lead not drefs'd. Does he mean to mock 'em P Or fome new-bred
crotchet
Come o'er his brains ? I do not like his kindnefs ; But filence beft becomesone. If he mean foul play, Sure they're enough to right themfelves ; and let 'em ; I'll fit by, fo they beat him not to powder.
Ear. Bring in the meat there, hoa ! Sit down, dear
neighbour •,
A little meat needs little compliment ; Sit down, I fay.
Ama. What do you mean by this, Sir ?
Bar. Convey away their weapons handfomely.
Ama. You know there's none i' th' houfe to anfwer
you, But the poor girl -, you know there's no meat neither.
Bar. Peace, and be quiet ; I mall make you fmoke
elfe: There's men and meat enough. Set it down formally.
Enter Alguazils^ with dijhes.
Ama. I fear fome lewd trick, yet I dare not fpeak on't. Bar. I have no dainties for ye, gentlemen, Nor loads of meat, to make the room fmell of 'em :
Only
286 THE SPANISH CURATE;
Only a dim to every man Pve dedicated ; And, if I've pleas'd his appetite •
Lop. Oh, a capon, A bird of grace, an't be thy will ; I honour it.
Die. For me fome forty pound of lovely beef, Plac'd in a mediterranean fea of brewis.
Bar. Fall to, fall to, that we may drink and laugh
after. Wait diligently, knaves !
Mil. What rare bit's this ? An execution ! blefs me !
Bar. Nay, take it to you, There's no avoiding it ; 'tis fomewhat tough, Sir^ But a good ftomach will endure it eaiily -9 The firm is but a thoufand ducats, Sir.
Arf. A capias from my furgeon, and my filk-man !
Bar. Your careful makers 4I ; but they have marr'd
your diet. Stir not ; your fwords are gone •, there's no avoiding
me; And thefe are alguazils. Do you hear that paffing-bell ,?
Lop. A flrong citation ! blefs me !
Bar. Out with your beads, Curate ; . , 1
The devil's in your dim : Bell, book, and candle !
Lop. A warrant to appear before the judges ! I muft needs rife, and turn to th' wall.
Bar. You need not ; Your fear, I hope, will make you find your breeches.
All. We are betray'd !
*T Tour carefut maters,"] As Mr. Sympfon thinks this obfcure, , it may probably need explanation. The debauchees, who, in the next play, are faid to be daily mending like Dutch nvafckes, and\ plaiftering like old iva/ts, may properly call their furgeon theira maker ; their bodies are made up by him, and to him they owe their, prefcnt being. 1 have myfelf heard one boaft, that his laft faliva1- tion newmade him. It is likewife very common, both in Shakef- peare and our Authors, to call taylors and filk-men the makers of fops. Thus Kent, in King Lear, tells the foppifti Reward, that a taylor made him. 'Tis a nervous expreffion, that feems to annihilate both the foul and body, and to allow no worth or even exigence to the fop, but in his clothes. . . • . * . Seward. .
Bar.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 287
Bar. Invited ! do not wrong me. Fall to, good guefts •, ye have diligent men about ye; Ye mall want nothing that may perfecute ye ; Thefe will not fee ye flart. Have I now found ye ? Have I requited ye ? Ye fool'd the lawyer, And thought it meritorious to abufe him, A thick ram-headed knave ! . Ye rid, ye fpurr'd him, And glorified your wits, the more ye wrong'd him ! Within this hour ye mall have all your creditors, A fecond diili of new debts, come upon ye, And new invitements to the whip, don Diego, And excommunications for the learned Curate; A mafque of all your furies mall dance to ye !
Arf. You dare not ufe us thus ?
Ear. Ye mall be bobb'd, gentlemen. Stir, and, as I have a life, ye go to prifon, To prifon, wi'thout pity inftantly ; Before ye fpeak another word, to prifon. I have a better guard without, that waits ! Do you fee this man, don Curate ? 'tis a 'paritor 4% That comes to tell you a delightful ftory Of an old whore you have, and then to teach you What is the penalty. Laugh at me now, Sir ! What legacy would you bequeath me now, (And pay it on the nail) to fly my fury ?
Lop. Oh, gentle Sir !
Ear. Doft thou hope I will be gentle, Thou foolilh unconfiderate Curate ?
Lop. Let me go, Sir.
Bar. I'll fee thee hang firft.
Lop. And, as I am a true vicar
Hark in your ear, hark foftly !
Bar. No, no bribery ;
I'll have my fwinge upon thee. Sirrah ! rafcal ! You lenten-chaps ! you that lay fick, and mock'd me j Mock'd me abominably, abus'd me lewdly, I'll make thee fick at heart, before I leave thee,
41 'Tis a paratour.] An apparitor (which is obvioufly meant here) is an officer that fummons offenders, and ferves 'the procefs, in the fpiritual court.
And
THE SPANISH CURATE.
And groan, and die indeed, and be worth nothing, Not worth a bleffing, nor a bell to knell for thee, A fheet to cover thee, but that thou fteal'ft, SteaPft from the merchant, and the ring he was bu ried with, Steal'ft from his grave ! Do you fmell me. now ?
Die. Have mercy on me !
Bar, No pfalm of mercy mail hold me from hang ing thee ! How do ye like your breakfaft? 'Tis but fhort,
gentlemen, But fweet, and healthful. Your punimment, and
yours, Sir,
For fome near reafons that concern my credit, I will take to myfelf.
Ama. Do, Sir, and fpare not : I have been too good a wife, and too obedient ; But, fmce you dare provoke me to be foolifh
Lean. She has, yes, and too worthy for your ufage45 : Before the world I juftify your goodnefs ; And turn that man, that dares but taint her virtues, To my fword's point (that lying man, that bafe man!) Turn him but face to face, that I may know him !
Bar. What have I here ?
Lean. A gentleman, a free man ; One that made trial of this lady's conflancy, And found it ftrong as fate ! Leave off your fooling ; For if you follow this courfe, you'll be chronicled For a devil, whilft a faint fhe's mentioned. You know my name, indeed : I'm now no lawyer.
Enter Jamie and dffiftant.
"Die. Some comfort now, I hope ; or elfe, would I
were hang'd up ! And yet, the judge ! He makes me fweat.
Ear. What news now ?
Jam. I'll juftify, upon my life and credit, What you have heard for truth, and will make proof of.
43 Wertby of your ufage.] Former editions. Seward.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 289
Affifl. I will be ready at th' appointed hour there ; And fo I leave you.
Ear. Stay, I befeech your worfhip, And do but hear me.
Jam. Good Sir, intend this bufmefs 44, And let this bawling fool45 ! No more words, lawyer, And no more angers ; for I guefs your reafons : This gentleman I'll juftify in all places, And that fair lady's worth, let who dare crofs it. The plot was call by me, to make thee jealous, But not to wrong your wife ; fhe's fair and virtuous.
Die. Take us to mercy too, we befeech your honour; We fhall be juftifieH the way of all flefh elfe. ,
Jam. No more talk, nor no more d indention, lawyer -, I know your anger ; 'tis a vain and flight one ; For, if you do, I'll lay your whole life open, A life that ail the world fhall — I'll bring witnefs,
And rip before a judge the ulcerous villanies
You know I know you, and I can bring witnefs.
Bar. Nay, good Sir, noble Sir ! V* . v
Jam. Be at peace then prefently ; Immediately take honeft and fair truce With your good wife, and make hands with that gen
tleman
H' has honour'd you too much •, and do it chearfully.
Lop. Take us along, for Heav'n fake, too ! •
Bar. I am friends,
(There is no remedy ; I mud put up all, And like my neighbours rub it out by th* moulders) And perfect friends. Leandro, now I thank you, And there's my hand, I have no more grudge to you ; But I'm too mean henceforward for your company.
*+ Intend this bu/inefs.~\ Intends here ufed to fignify regard^ or fay attention to. The reader will find it occur- in the lame fenfe in va rious parts of our Authors' works. In this play, p. 254, Ama. Why do you flop me ? Lean. That you may intend me. Again, p. 272, No thing intended but your eating and drinking?
45 And let this bawling fool.'} The modern copies fay, leave this bawling fco! ; but as the word let is ufed to fignify hindrance, or ob- Jlru&ion, we have followed the oldeil books.
.VQL. II. T Lean.
290 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Lean. I fhall not trouble you.
Arf. We will be friends too.
Mil. Nay, lawyer, you fhall not fright us further; For all your devils, we will bolt.
Bar. I grant you ;
The gentleman's your bail^ and thank his coming : Did not he know me too well, you mould fmart for't. Go all in peace •, but, when ye fool next, gentlemen^ Come not to me to breakfaft.
Die. I'll be bak'd firft.
Bar. And pray ye remember, when ye' re bold and
merry, The lawyer's banquet, and the fauce he gave ye.
Jam. Come, go along; I have employment for you, Employment for your lewd brains too, to cool you ^ For all, for every one.
AIL We're all your fervants.
Die. All, all, for any thing \ From this day forward, I'll hate all breakfafts, and depend on dinners.
Jam. I'm glad you come off fair,
Lean. The fair has bleft me, \Emint.
SCENE III.
Enter Oftanio, Jacintha, and Afcanie.
On. This is the place ; but why we are appointed By don Jamie to ftay here, is a depth I cannot found.
Afe. Bclieve't, he is too noble To purpofe any thing but for our good. Had I allurance of a thoufand lives, And with them perpetuity of pleafure, And mould lofe all, if he prov'd only falfe, Yet I durft run the hazard.
Jac. 'Tis our comfort, We cannot be more wretched than we arc^ And death concludes all mifery.
Off. Undifcover'd, We muft attend him,
Enter
THE SPANISH CURATE. 291
Enter Henrique and Jamie*
Afc. Our ftay is not long. With him don Henrique ?
Jac. Now I fear ! be filent.
Hen. Why dofl thou follow .me ?
Jam. To fave your life ; A plot is laid for't. All my wrongs forgot, I have a brother's love.
Hen. But thy falfe felf, I fear no enemy. »
Jam. You have no friend, But what breathes in me. If you move a flep Beyond this ground you tread on, you are loft.
Hen. 'Tis by thy practice then. I am fent hither To- meet her, that prefers my life and fafety Before her own.
Jam. That you mould be abus'd thus, With weak credulity I She, for whofe fake You have forgot we had one noble father, Or that one mother bare us \ for whofe love You brake a contract to which Heav'n was witnefs •, To fatisfy whofe pride and wilful humour You have expos'd a fweet and hopeful fon To all the miferies that want can bring him, (And fuch a fon, though you are moft obdurate, To give whom entertainment favages Would quit their caves themfelves, to keep him from Bleak cold and hunger !) this difTembling woman, This idol whom you worfhip, all your love And fervice trod under her feet, defigns you To fill a grave, or dead to lie a prey For wolves and vultures.
Hen. 'Tis falfe. I defy thee, And (land upon my guard !
Enter Leandro, Milanes, Arfenio, Eartolus, Lopez, Diego , Oftavio, Jacintba^ Afcanio^ and Servants.
Jam. Alas, 'tis weak. Come on ! Since you will teach me to be cruel,
T * By
THE SPANISH CURATE,
By having no faith in me, take your fortune. Bring the reit forth, and bind them fail.
Oct. My lord !
Afc. In what have we offended ?
Jam. I am deaf;
And following my will, I do not Hand Accountable to reafon. Sec her ring, The firfl pledge of your love and fervice to her., Deliver' d as a warrant for your death ! Thefe bags of gold you gave up to her trufl, The ufe of which you did deny yourfelf, Beftow'd on me, (and with a prodigal hand) Whom me pick'd forth to be the architect Of her moil bloody building •, and to fee Thefe inftruments, to bring materials To raife it up, me bad me fpare no coft, And, as a furplufage, offer'd' herfelf To be at my devotion.
Hen. Oh, accurs'd !
Jam. But, be incredulous flill ; think this my plot -y Fafhion excufes to yourfelf, and fwear That me is innocent, that me dotes on you. Believe this as a fearful dream, and that You lie not at my mercy, which in this J will Ih-ew only : She herfelf mall give The dreadful fentence, to remove all fcruple Who 'tis that fends you to the other world.
Enter Violante.
Appears my Violante ? Speak, my deareft,. Does not the object pleafe you ?
Viol. More than if
All treafure that's above the earth, with that That lies conceal'd in both the Indian mines, Were laid down at my feet ! Oh, bold Jamie,, Thou only canfl deferve me !
Jam. I am forward •,
And, as you eafily may perceive, I fleep not On your commands,
Enter
THE SPANISH CURATE.
293
Enter dfliftant and Officers.
Viol. But yet they live : I look'd TQ find them dead.
Jam. That was deferr'd, that you Might triumph in their miiery, and have the power To lay ' they are not.' .
VioL 'Twas well thought upon. This kifs, and all the pleafurcs of my bed This night, fhall thank thee. Hen. Monfter! Viol. You, Sir, that
Would have me mother baftards, being unable To honour me with one child of mine own, That underneath my roof kept your caft ftrumpet. And out of my revenues would maintain Her riotous iffue •, now you find what 'tis To tempt a woman ! With as little feeling As I turn off a (lave, that is unfit To do me fervice ; or a horfe, or dog, That have out-liv'd their ufe ; I fhake thee off, To make thy peace with Heav'n !
Hen. I do deferve this ; And never truly felt before, what forrow Attends on wilful dotage. Viol. For you, miftrefs, That had the pleafure of his youth before me, And triumph'd in the fruit that you had by him, But that I think, to have the baftard ftrangled Before thy face, and thou with fpeed to follow The way he leads thee, is fufHcient torture, I would cut off thy noie, put out thy eyes, And fet my foot on thofe bewitching lips, That had the ftart of mine ! But, as thou art, Go to the grave unpitied.
Affift. Who would believe Such rage could be in woman ?
Viol. For this fellow, He is not worth rny knowledge.
T 3 Jam.
294 THE SPANISH CURATE.
Jam. Let him live then, Since you efteem him innocent.
Viol. No, Jamie,
He mail make up the mefs. Now flrike together, And let them fall fo !
AJJift. Unheard-of cruelty ! I can endure no longer : Seize on her !
Viol. Am I betray'd ? Is this thy faith, Jamie ?
Jam. Could your defires Challenge performance of a deed fo horrid ? Or, though that you had fold yourfelf to Hell, I fhould make up the bargain ? Live, dear brother, Live long, and happy ! I forgive you freely •, To have done you this fervice, is to me A fair inheritance •, and howe'er harm language, Call'd on by your rough ufage, pafs'd my lips, In my heart I ever lov'd you. All my labours Were but to mew, how much your love was cozen'd, When it beheld itfelf in this falfe glafs, That did abuie yon -, and I am fo far From envying young Afcanio his good fortune, That, if your ftate were mine, I would adopt him. Thefe are the murderers ; my noble friends ! Which, to make trial of her bloody purpofe, I won, to come difguis'd thus.
Hen. , I am too full
Of grief and fhame to fpeak : But what I'll do, Shall to the world proclaim my penitence ; And, howlbever I ha /e liv'd, Til die A much-chang'd man.
Jam. Were it but poflible You could make fatisfaftion to this woman, Our joys were perfedl.
Hen. That's my only comfort, That it is in my pow'r : I ne'er was married To this bad woman, though I doted on her, But daily did defer it, ftill expecting When grief would kill Jacintha.
THE SPANISH CURATE. 295
AJJift. All's come out,
And finds a fair fuccefs. Take her, dca Henrique -y And once again embrace your fon.
Hen. Moft gladly.
AJJift. Your brother hath deferv'4 all.
Hen. And (hall fhare The moiety of my ftate.
AJJift. I have heard, advocate, What an ill inftrument you have been to him : From this time ftrengthen him with honeft counfels, And you'll deferve my pardon.
Ear. I'll change my copy : But I am punifh'd, for I fear I have had A fmart blow, though unfeen.
AJJift. Curate, and Sexton, I have heard of you too -3 let me hear no more, And what's pad, is forgotten. For this woman, Though her intent were bloody, yet our law Calls it not death ; yet, that her punifhment May deter others from fuch bad attempts, The dowry me brought with her mall be employ'd To build a nunnery, where me mall fpend The remnant of her life.
Viol. Since I have mifs'd my ends, I fcorn what can fall on me.
AJJift. The Uriel: difcipline O' ths church will teach you better thoughts. And,
figniors,
You that are batchelors, if you ever marry, In Bartolus you may behold the iflue Of covetoufnefs and jealoufy •, and of dotage, And falfhood, in don Henrique. Keep a mean then •, For be affur'd, that weak man meets all ill, That gives himfelf up to a woman's will, [Exeunt.
T 4 THE
THE EPILOGUE.
THE play is done, yet our fuit never ends, Still when you part, you would Hill part our
friends,
Our noblefl friends ! If aught have falPn amifs, Oh, let it be fufficient, that it is, And you have pardon'd it. (In buildings great, All the whole body cannot be fo neat, But fomething may be mended.) Thofe are fair46, And worthy love, that may deftroy, but fpare.
4-6 Buf fomething may le mended : Fhofe are fair, ] As the text flood before, it had great obfcurity ; buildings feeming the ante cedent to thofe ; it means thofe perfons are fair or candid judges, who fpare what they might deitroy.
W I T
WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
.
A COMEDY.
This Comedy is unwerfally allowed to be the joint produfiion of our Authors, The fir ft edition was printed in 1639. It nvas the fir ft flay that was atted after the burning of the King's Houfe in Drury-Lane ; a ne*vj prologue being then wrote for the occajiony by Mr. Dry Jen. About the year 1708, it was afted at the Queen's Theatre in the Haymarket, with alterations, and> as the title-page ntodeftly afferts* amendments, by fame P erfons of Quality . It hath been fence frequently reprefented at Cogent-Garden Theatre*
DRAMATIS
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
M E N. Valentine, a gallant that will not be perfuaded to keep
bis eftate.
Franc ifco, his younger brother. Matter Lovegood, their uncle. A Merchant, friend to mafter Lovegood.
Fountain,
-^ , , / companions of Valentine, and fuitors to
. ' f the widow. Harebram/
Lance, a falconer, and an ancient feruant to Valentine* s
father.
Shorthofe, the clown , and fern ant to the widow. Roger, Ralph, and Humphry, three fervants to the
widow.
*Three Servants. Muficians.
WOMEN.
Lady Hartwell, a widow.
Ifabell, herjifler.
Luce, a waiting-gentlewoman to the widow*
W I
WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
ACT I.
Enter Uncle and Merchant.
Merchant. *\T[ THEN faw you Valentine ?
\/\/ Unc. Not fince the horfe-race ; T T He's taken up with thofe that
wooe the widow. Mer. How can he live by fhatches from fuch
people ?
He bore a worthy mind. Unc. Alas, he's funk,
His means are gone, he wants, and, which is worfc, Takes a delight in doing fo. Mer. That's ftrange.
Unc. Runs lunatick, if you but talk of ftates * : He can't be brought, now he has fpent his own, To think there is inheritance or means, But all a common riches, all men bound To be his bailiffs.
Mer. This is fomething dangerous.
Unc. No gentleman that has eftate \ to ufe it
* States.] State and eftate are generally ufed in the fame fenfe throughout this play. Seward.
z No gent, that has eftate to ufe it, &c.] Mr. Seward reads, or rather writes, No gentleman that has eftate 's to ufe it ; and fays, he could not make fenfe of the paflage, till he added the verb, which * confifts here of a fingle letter.' Such an addition is certainly in elegant, and (as we think) unneceflary. The beginning of the Un cle's fpeech is a refumption of his Jail ; both fumming up the roman-
tick
3oo WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
In keeping houfe, or followers, for thofe ways He cries againft, for eating fins, dull furfeits, Cramming of ferving-men, muttering of beggars, Maintaining hofpitals for kites and curs, Grounding their fat faiths upon old country proverbs, God blefs the founders ! Thefe he would have vented Into more manly ufes, wit, and carriage 3, And never thinks of ilate, or means, the ground- works ; Holding it monitrous, men mould feed their bodies, And ftarve their underftandings.
Mer. That's moil certain.
Unc. Yes, if he could flay there.
Mer. Why, let him marry, And that way rife again.
Unc. It's moft impoffible ; He will not look with any handfomenefs Upon a woman.
Mer. Is he fo flrange to women ?
Unc. I know not what it is ; a foolifh glory He has got, I know not where, to balk thofe benefits ^ And yet he will converfe and flatter 'em, Make 'em, or fair or foul, rugged or fmooth, As his imprellion ferves -9 .for he affirms, They're only lumps, and undigefted pieces, ... Lick'd over to a form by our affections, And xhen they Ihow. The Lovers ! let 'em pafs.
Enter Fountain, Bellamore, Harelrain. Mer. He might be one-, he carries as much promife.
tick ideas of Valentine, in regard to property : All a common riches,
all men bound to be his bailiffs No gentleman that has ejlate to
ufe it, £c.
3 Into more manly ufes, wit, and carriage-] Mr. Sympfon would read ivit and courage j taking, I believe, manly to fignify conragious ; but manly both here and in the next fcene is the fame as humane, or what is proper to the nature of man. Seward.
Wit and carriage is certainly right, and confirmed by the whole tenor of the play. When Valentine is reproaching the Lovers (to wards the conclufion of the third acl) he fays to them, who taught you manners, and apt carriage ? Many other paflages in the play like- wife fupport this reading.
They
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 301
They are wondrous merry.
Unc. Oh, their hopes are high, Sir.
Fount. Is Valentine come to town ?
Bel. Laft night, I heard.
Fount. We mifs him monftroufly in our directions ; For this widow is as (lately, and as crafty, And (lands, I warrant you
Hare. Let her (land fare ; She falls before us elfe. Come, let's go feek Valentine.
JMer. This widow feems a gallant.
Unc. A goodly woman ; And to her handfomenefs me bears her flate, Referv'd and great 4j Fortune has made her miflrefs Of a full means, and well me knows to ufe it.
Mer. I would Valentine had her.
Unc . There's no hope of that, Sir.
Mer. O' that condition, he had his mortgagein again 5.
Unc. I would he had.
And to her handfomnefs Jhe bears her ft ate refers"1 d, and great for~ tune has made her miftrefs of a full meam. ] The want of attention to the metre here caufed the former Editors to fpoil the fenfe by giving an unmeaning epithet to Fortune. It may perhaps be afk«d, how the removal of a Itop from one word to another can affect the meafure ; tet it be plac'd with its former flop in its ftation as a verfe, and every reader that has an ear will perceive its harflinefs.
fee bears her flate
Referv V, and great forttine has made her miftrefs
Of a fu l! me a n s •
Remove the Jiopto its righfplace, and the verfe recovers its harmony.- They who would fearch the reafon of this, muft firft know that the principal rule" by which the English heroic verfe is govern'd, is, that the even fyllahles, viz. the fecond, fourth , fixth, eighth, and tenth nrnft have the accents upon them ; and fecondly, that there is one only ex ception to this rule, viz. That where a paufe precedes an odd fyllable^ there the odd fy liable may hai>e the accent. Thus in the cafe above, the firft fy liable of fortune is the fifth in the verfe, and unlefs the paufe immediately precedes, it fpoils the metre. Ail the writers upon the Englifti meafure that I have ften, have not only been very deficient for want of knowing this exception to the general rule above, but have fali'n into great errors, and condemned verfes that were remarkably harmonious. Seward.
5 He had his mortgagein again.~\ He had> in this place, according to the old manner, fignifies hejbwld have.
Mer.
3o2 WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
Mer. Seek means, and fee what I'll do •, (However, let the money be paid in •,) I never fought a gentleman's undoing, Nor eat the bread of other mens' vexations. The mortgage mall be render'd back •, take time for't* You told me of another brother.
Unc. Yes, Sir,
More miferable than he, for he has eat him And drank him up -9 a handfome gentleman, And a fine fcholar.
Enter three Tenants.
Mer. What are thefe ?
Unc. The tenants ^ They'll do what they can.
Mer. It is well prepar'd. Be earnelt, honeft friends, and loud upon him ; He's deaf to his own good.
Lance. We mean to tell him Part of our minds, an't pleafe you.
Mer. Do, and do it home,
And in what my care may help, or my perfuafions, When we meet next
Unc. Do but perfuade him fairly ; And for your money, mine, and thefe mens' thanks too, And what we can be able
Mer. You're moft honeft ; You mall find me no lefs, and fo I leave you. Profper your bufmefs, friends ! [Exit Mer.
Unc. !Dray Heav'n it may, Sir.
Lance. Nay, if he will bemad, I'll be mad with him,
And tell him that — I'll not fpare him
His father kept good meat, good drink, good fellows, Good hawks, good hounds, and bid his neighbours
welcome ;
Kept him too, and fupplied his prodigality, Yet kept his ftate ftill.
Muft we turn tenants now (after we have liv'd Under the race of gentry, and inamtain'd
Gi
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 303
Good yeomanry) to fome of the city, To a great fhoulder of mutton and a cuftard, And have onr ftate turn'd into cabbage-gardens ? Muft it be fo ?
Unc . You muft be milder to him.
Lance. That's as he makes his game.
Unc. Entreat him lovingly, And make him feel.
Lance. I'll pinch him to the bones elfe.
Val. (within.) And tell the gentleman, I'll be with
him prefently. Say I want money too •, I muft not fail, boy.
Lance. You will want clothes, I hope.
Enter Valentine.
Val. Bid the young courtier Repair to me anon ; I'll read to him.
Unc. He comes ; be diligent, but not too rugged ; Start him, but not affright him.
Val. Phew ! are you there ?
Unc. We come to fee you, nephew ; be not angry.
Val. Why do you dog me thus, with thefe ftrange
people ?
Why, all the world mall never make me rich more, Nor mailer of thefe troubles.
Ten. We befeech you, For our poor childrens' fake.
Val. Who bid you get 'em ? Have you not threfhing work enough, but children Muft be bang'd out o' th* fheaf too ? Other men, With all their delicates, and healthful diets, Can get but wind-eggs : You, with a clove of garlick, A piece of cheefe would break a faw, and four milk, Can mount like ftallions ; and I muft maintain Thefe tumblers !
Lance You ought to maintain us •, we Have maintained you, and when you flept provided
for you.
Who bought the filk you wear ? I think our labours -,
Reckon,
WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
Reckon, you'll find it fo. Who found your horfcs, Perpetual pots of ale 6, maintain'd your taverns, And who extol'd you in the half-crown boxes, Where you might fit and mufter all the beauties ? We had no hand in thefe ; no, we're all puppies ! Your tenants bafe vexations !
Vol. Very well, Sir.
Lance. Had you land, Sir, And honeft men to ferve your purpofes, Honeil and faithful, and will you run away from 'em, Betray yourfelf, and your poor tribe to miiery ; Mortgage all us, like old cloaks ? Where will you
hunt next ?
You had a thoufand acres, fair and open : The King's Bench is enclos'd, there's no good riding ; The Counter's full of thorns and brakes (take heed, Sir) And bogs •, you'll quickly find what broth 7 they're made of.
Vol. You're fhort and pithy.
'Lance. They fay you're a fine gentleman, And excellent judgment they report you have ; a wit •, Keep yourfelf out o' th' rain s, and take your cloak
with yon,
Which by interpretation is your flate, Sir, Or I mall think your fame beliedyou. You have money*
6 Who found your horfes perpetual pots of ate. ~\ This is evidently cor rupt. Mr. Sympfon conjectures, Who found your horfes perpetual oats and hay ? But as my correction feems more eafy, and is confirmed by Mr. Theobald's concurrence, I have ventured to infert it in the text. Seward.
Mr. Seward reads, Who found you horfts ? The old reading, with only the infertion of a ftop, conveys the fame fenfe as Mr. Seward's amendment.
7 What broth they're made of.} Mr. Sympfon reads, with Mr. Seward's concurrence,
You II quickly find what both they* re made of.
We think broth the right word, meaning, * You'll foon find what fort of liquid is in the bogs.' After all, l/rotbisa. flrange expreffion, but Mr. Sympfon's reading is hard, and fcarcely Englifn.
8 Keep yourfelf out (? tV rain, &c.] You are wife, keep you warm. See this explained in .p.. 355, vol. I.
And
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 305
And may have means.
Val. I prithee leave prating ! Does my good lie within thy brain to further, Or my undoing in thy pity ? Go, Go, get you home ; there whittle to your horfes, And let them edify ! Away, fow hemp, To hang yourfelves withal ! What am I to you, Or you to me P Am I your landlord, puppies ? Unc. This is, uncivil. VaL More unmerciful you,
To vex me with thefe bacon- broth and puddings ; They are the walking mapes of all my forrows ! 3 Ten. Your father's worfhip would have us'd us
better.
VaL My father's wormip was a fool ! Lance. Hey, hey, boys ! Old Valentine i' faith ; the old boy ftill ! Unc. Fy, coufm !
Val. I mean befotted to his ftate ; he had never Left. me the mifery of fo much means elfe, Which, till I fold, was a mere megrim to me. If you will talk, turn out thefe tenants : They are as killing to my nature, Uncle, As water to a fever.
Lance. We will go ;
But 'tis like rams, to come again the ftronger: And you mail keep your ftate ! VaL Thou Heft ; I will not. Lance. Sweet Sir, thou lieft ; thou malt -, and fo good morrow ! {Exeunt Tenants.
VaL This was my man, and of a noble breeding. Now to your bufmefs, Uncle. Unc. To your ftate then.
VaL 'Tis gone, and I am glad on't •, name it no more; 'Tis that I pray againft, and Heav'n has heard me. I tell you, Sir, I am more fearful of it, I mean of thinking of more lands, or livings, Than fickly men are travelling o' Sundays, For being quell'd with carriers. Out upon't ! Caveat cmptor ! Let the fool out-fweat it,
VOL. II. U That
3o6 WIT WITHOUT MONET,
That thinks he has got a catch on't.
Unc. This is madnefs, To be a wilful beggar.
Val. I am mad then,
And fo I mean to be ; will that content you ? How bravely now I live, how jocund ! How near the firft inheritance, without fears ! How free from title-troubles !
Unc. And from means too.
VaL Means ? Why, all good men's my means 9 ;
my wit's my plough,
The town's my flock, tavern's my flanding-houfe, And aM the world knows there's no want ; all gentle men
That love fociety, love me ; all purfes That wit and pleafure open, are my tenants ; Every man's clothes fit me, the next fair lodging Is but my next remove, and when I pleafe To be more eminent, and take the air, A piece is levied, and a coach prepar'd, And I go I care not whither. What need ftate here ?
Unc. But, fay thefe means were honed, will they laft, Sir?
Val. Far longer than your jerkin, and wear fairer^ Should I take ought of you ? 'Tis true, I beg'd nowr. Or which is worfe than that, I flole a kindnefs, And which is worft of all, I loft my way in't; Your mind is enclosed, nothing lies open noblyy Your very thoughts are hinds t-hat work on nothing,, But daily fweat and trouble : Were my way So full of dirt as this ? 'Tis true, I fhifted. Are my acquaintance grafiers ? But, Sir, know,: No man that I'm allied to, in my living, But makes it equal, whether his own ufc, Or my neceffity, pull nVft ± nor is this forc'dr But the mere quality and poifure of goodnefs -f And do you think I venture nothing equal ?
9 jfll good mens my wears.'] This is the reading of the oldefl copies 4 the modern (more grammatically, but Ids poetically) lay, Ml ?o?d men are .my means.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 307
Unc. You pole me, coufm.
Vol. What's my knowledge, Uncle ? Is't not worth
money ?
What's my underftanding, my travel, reading, wit, All thefe digefled, my daily making men, Some to fpeak, that too much phlegm had frozen up ; Some other that fpoke too much, to hold their peace, And put their tongues to penlions -, fome to wear their
clothes,
And fome to keep 'em10 ? Thefe are nothing, Uncle ! Befides thefe ways, to teach the way of nature, A manly love, community to all That are defervers — not examining How much, or what's done for them — it is wicked, And fuch a one, like you, chews his thoughts double, Making 'em only food for his repentance.
Enter two Servants^
i Ser. This cloak and hat, Sir, and my matter's love. Vol. Commend us to thy mailer, and take that, And leave 'em at my lodging.
1 Ser. I (hall do't, Sir.
Val. I do not think of thefe things.
2 Ser. Pleafe you, Sir, I have gold here for you. Val. Give it me. Drink that, and commend me to
thy mafter. Look you, Uncle, do I beg thefe ?
Unc. No fure, it is your worth, Sir.
Val. 'Tis like enough j but, pray fatisfy me, Are not thefe ways as honed as perfecuting The ftarv'd inheritance, with mufty corn The very rats were fain to run away from, Or felling rotten wood by the pound, like fpices, Which gentlemen do after burn by th' ounces ? Do not I know your way of feeding beafls With grains, and windy fluff, to 'blow up butchers ?
10 It is plain to any one, who reads the two or three foregoing fpeeches of Valentine attentively, that he is defending his rorrutntick humour, arguing by way of interrogation ; according to which we have .reformed the pointing, and, we hope, cleared the text from obfcurity.
U 2 Your
3o8 WIT WITHOUT
Your racking paftures, that have eaten up
As many finging fhep herds, and their iifues,
As Andeluzia breeds ? Thefe are authentic.
I tell you, Sir, I would not change ways with
Unlefs it were to fell your ftate that hour,
And, if 'twere poflible, to fpend it then too,
For all your beafts in Rumney ". Now you know me,
Unc . I would you knew ypurfelf -y but, fince you're
grown
Such a ftrange enemy to all that fits you, Give me leave to make your brother's fortune.
Val. How?
Unc. From your mortgage, which yet you may recover 5 I'll find the means,
Val. Pray fave your labour, Sir -5 My brother and myfelf will run one fortune, And I think, what 1 hold a mere vexation Cannot be fafe for him ; I love him better ; He has wit at will, the world has means, he mail live Without this trick of ftate •, we are heirs both, And all the world before us.
Unc. My laft offer, And then I'm gone.
Val. What is't ? and then I'll anfwer.
Unc. What think you of a wife yet to reftore you ? And tell me ferioufly, without theie trifles.
Val. An you can find one that can pleafe my fancy*. You mall not find me ftubborn.
Unc. Speak your woman.
Val. One without eyes, that is, fell-commendations' (For when they find they're handfome,, they're un- wholefbme) •,
11 For all your beans in Rumnillo, KOVJ you know me.~\ I would not conclude that there is no fuch place in England as Rumnillo^ merely becaufe I never heard of it ; but it does not found like an Englifh name, and what weighs more with me, it gives a redundant fyllable to the verfe. The Uncle is before ddcribed as a great grafier ; his beafts therefore are more likely to be mentioned, as the chief of his wealth than his beans. Rumney Marlh, in Kent, is re markably famous for fatting cattle- j I think therefore my conjeclure \vas probably the true reading.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 309
One without ears, not giving time to flatterers (For fhe that hears herfelf commended, wavers, And points men out a way to make 'em wicked) ; One without fubftance of herfelf IZ ; that woman Without the pleafure of her life, that's wanton, Though me be young ; forgetting it, tho' fair ; Making her glafs the eyes of honeit men, Not her own admiration j al) her ends Obedience, all her hours new bleffings ; if There may be fuch a woman.
Unc. Yes, there may be.
Vol. And without ftate too ?
Unc. You're difpos'd to trifle.
Well, fare you well, Sir ! When you want me next, You'll feek me out a better fenfe.
Val. Farewell, Uncle, And as you love your ftate, let not me hear on't. [Ifycif.
Unc. It mall not trouble you. I'll watch him (till i And, when his friends fall off, then bend his will.
[Cut
Enter IfaMla and Luce.
Luce. I know the caufe of all this fadnefs now ; Your fifter has engrofs'd all the brave Lovers.
12 One without fubftance of her felf, that woman 'without the plea fure of her life, thats wanton, though /he he young, forgetting it, though fair, making her glafs, £c.~J Mr. Seward reads,
One without fubftance of her felf -, that 'woman
Without the pleafure of her life, that's wanton ;
'Though /he he young, forgetting it, though fair t
Maki^ her glufe, &c.
This paflstge is certainly difficult, but Mr. Seward's reading has ren dered it ftifi more obfcure than the licentious pointing of the old books. Our reading is with a itricl adherence to the old text, and with but fmall variation from the old punctuation. The fenfe of the whole fpeech we conceive to be this : ' The woman I expeft is, one * without eyes, to difcover her own charms ; one without ears, tore- ' ceive flattery ; one without SUBSTANCE o/^r/*^, i. e. one without ' the 'very ESSENCE of woman; a woman, without wantonnefs (the « chief pleafure of woman's life) though young ; unconfcious of her ' beauty, though fair, &V. &V.' This fenie is eafily obtained by pur regulation of tne Hops, -and is (as we believe) the true one.
U 3 lf<&.
3io WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Ifab. She has wherewithal, much good may't do her I Prithee, fpeak foftly •, we are open to mens' ears.
Luce. Fear not, we're fafe; we may fee all that pafs. Hear all, and make ourfelves merry with their lan^
guage,
And yet ftand undifcover'd. Be not melancholy ; You are as fair as fhe.
Ifab. Who, I ? I thank you •, I am as hafte ordain'd me, a thing flubber'd : My lifter is a goodly, portly lady, A woman of a prefence; me fpreads fattin, As the king's mips do canvas, every where. She may fpare me her mizen, and her bonnets, Strike her main petticoat, and yet out- fail me j I am a carvel to her l\
Luce. But a tight one.
Jfab. She is excellent well built too.
Luce. And yet fhe's old.
Ifab. She never faw above one voyage, Luce, And, credit me, after another, her hull Will ferve again, and a right good merchant. She plays, and fmgs too, dances and difcourfes. Comes very near eflays, a pretty poet, Begins to piddle with philofophy, A fubtle chymic wench, and can extract The fpirit of mens' eftates ; fhe has the light Before her, and cannot mifs her choice. For me, 'Tis reafon I wait my mean fortune.
Luce. You are fo bafhful !
Ifab. 'Tis not at firft word up and ride -9 thou'rt cozen'd ;
1? I am a carvel ft her.] Carvel, fiom the Spnnifh word caravila, an old-fafhioned vefiel, formerly much ufed in Spain, fha»p before, jll-ftiaped every way, and all the marts Hooping forwards. Their fails are all mizen-fails, that is, triangular; they will lie nearer the vVind than other fails, but are rot fo commodious to handle. — Th.is is the explanation given by the Spanifh Dictionaries. Carvel here feerns to be ufed for a fmall fhip, in the fame fenle as it is by Sir Walter Raleigh : ' I gave them order, if they found any Indians ' there, to fend in the little fly beat, or the carvel, into the river; ' for with our great ftiips we duril r.ot approach the coatf.' R-
That
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 311
That would mew mad, i'faith ! Befides, we lofe
The main part of our politick government,
If we become provokers : Then we are fair,
And fit for mens' embraces, when, like towns,
They lie before us ages, yet not carried :
Hold out their ftrongeft batteries, then compound too
Without the lofs of honour, and march off
With our fair wedding-colours flying ! Who are thefe ?
Enter Francifco and Lance.
Luce. I know not, nor I care not.
Ifab. Prithee peace then ! A well-built gentleman.
Luce. But poorly thatch'd !
Lance. Has he devour'd you too ?
Fran. H' has gulp'd me down, Lance.
Lance. Left you no means to ftudy ?
Fran. Not a farthing : Difpatch'd my poor annuity, I thank him. Here's all the hope I've left, one bare ten millings.
Lance. You're fit for great mens' fervices.
Fran. I am fit, but who will take me thus ? Mens' miferies are now accounted Stains in their natures. I have travelled, And I have ftudied long, obferv'd all kingdoms, Know ail the promifec of art and manners : Yet, that I am not bold, nor cannot flatter, I mall not thrive •, all thefe are but vain ftudies ! Art thou fo rich as to get me a lodging, Lance ?
Lance. I'll fell the tiles H of my houfe elfe, my horfe,
, . my hawk ;
Nay, 'fdeath, I'll pawn my wife ! Oh, Mr. Francis, That I mould fee your father's houfe fall thus !
Ifab. An honeil fellow !
14 r II fell the titles of my boufe elfe, my borfe, my ba*~wk.~\ Mr. Theobald has made a query in his margin, whether this mould be title or tiles. I make no doubt of determining for the laft, not be- caufe it was my own and Mr. Symplon's conjecture long fince, but that the very fame expreffion, 1 II fell the tiles of my houfe, occurs in - another play of 9-ir Authors. Reward.
U 4 fjncf.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Lance. Your father's houfe, that fed me, That bred up all my name ?
Ifab. A grateful fellow !
Lance. And fall by
Fran. Peace •, I know you're angry, Lance, But I mull not hear with whom ; he is my brother, And, though you hold him flight, my moil dear
ther!
A gentleman, excepting fome few rubs, (He were too excellent to live here elfe) Fraughted as deep with noble and brave parts, The iiTues of a noble and manly fpirit, As any he alive. I muft not hear you : Though I am miferable, and He made me fo, Yet ilill he is my brother, ftill I love him, And to that tie of blood link my affe&ions.
Ifab. A noble nature ! Doft thou know him, Luce I
Luce. No, miflrefs.
Ifab. Thou fhouldft ever know fuch good men. What a fair body and a mind are married there to-*
gether ! Did he not fay he wanted ?
Luce. What is that to you ?
Ifab. 'Tis true -, but 'tis great pity.
Luce. How me changes ! Ten thoufand more than he, as handfome men too —
Ifab. 'Tis like enough ; but, as I live, this gen tleman, Among ten thoufand thoufand — Is there no knowing
him ?
Why mould he. want ? Fellows of no merit, Slight and puff'd fouls, that walk like fhadows by, Leaving no print of what they are, or poife IS, Let them complain !
Luce.
15 Or poife] The conitrudion of this is a little difficult, leaving DO print of what they are, or of what poife or weight they were. Mr. Sympfon not admitting this, would put voice for poife, it being the property of fhadows neither to leave print or voice behind then). And voice, he fays, is ufed by our Authors for fame. If this be not
admitted
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 313
"Luce. Her colour changes flrangely.
Ifab. This man was made to mark his wants, to
waken us ;
Alas, poor gentleman ! But will that fledge him, Keep him from cold ? Believe me he's well-bred, And cannot be but of a noble lineage ; Mark him, and mark him well.
Luce. 'Is a handfome man.
Ifab. The fweetnefs of his fufPrance fets him off; Oh, Luce — But whither go I ?
Luce. You cannot hide it.
Ifab. I would he had what I can fpare.
Luce. 'Tis charitable.
Lance. Come, Sir, I'll fee you lodg'd ; you've tied
my tongue faft. I'll fleal before you want ; 'tis but a hanging !
[Exeunt Lance and Francifco.
Ifab. That's a good fellow too, an honeft fellow ! Why, this would move a ftone. I muft needs know — • But that fome other time.
Luce. Is the wind there ? That makes for- me.
Ifab. Come, I forgot a bufmefs. [Exeunt.
ACT II.
Enter Widow and Luce. Iff id. T\ >T Y fifter, and a woman of fo bafe a pity !
IVl What was the fellow ? Luce. Why, an ordinary man, madam. Wid. Poor?
admitted he would read, for tbofe, let them complain. But I cannot fee fufficient reafon for any change. Little difficulties of conftruc~lion and incorreclneffes of language too frequently occur to fuppofe our Authors not fometimes really guilty of them. Seiuard.
We think this paflage pofleffes a graceful familiarity of phrafe, and is without any difficulty of conftruclion.
Luce.
ji4 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Luce. Poor enough ; and no man knows from whence neither.
Wid. What could me fee ?
Luce. Only his mifery -9 For elfe Ihe might behold a hundred handfomer.
Wid. Did me change much ?
Luce. Extremely, when he fpoke * And then her pity, like an orator, (I fear her love) fram'd fuch a commendation ? And follow'd it fo far, as made me wonder.
Wid. Is me fo hot, or fuch a want of lovers, That fhe muft dote upon afflictions ? Why does me not go rummage all the prifons, And there beftow her youth, bewray her wantonnefs? And fly her honour, common both to beggary ? Did fhe fpeak to him ?
Luce. No, he faw us not; But ever fince fhe hath been maiflly troubled,
Wid. Was he young ?
Luce. Yes, young enough.
Wid. And look'd he like a gentleman ?
Luce. Like fuch a gentleman would pawn ten oaths for twelve pence.
Wid. My fifter, and fink bafely ! This muft not be. Does fhe ufe means to know him ?
Luce. Yes, madam ; and has employ'd a fquire call'd Shorthofe.
Wid. Oh, that's a precious knave ! Keep all this
private ;
But ftill be near her lodging.
What you can gather by any means, let me underftand : I'll flop her heat, and turn her charity another way, To blefs herfelf firft. Be ftill clofe to her counfels. A beggar, and a ftranger ! There's a bleffednefs ! I'll none of that. I have a toy yet, fifter, Shall tell you this is foul, and make you find it. And, for your pains, take you the laft gown I wore. This makes me mad, but I mall force a remedy !
{Exeunt. Enter
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 315
Enter Fountain, Eellamore, Harebrain, and Valentine.
Fount. Sirrah, we have fo look'd for thee, and
long'd for thee !
This widow is the ftrangeft thing, the ftatelieft, And (lands fo much upon her excellencies !
Eel. She has put us orFthis month now, for an anfwer.
Hare. No man muft vifit her, nor look upon her, No, not fay ' good morrow/ nor c good even,* 'Till' that is pail.
Vol. She has found what dough you are made of,
and fo kneads you :
Are you good at nothing, but thefe after-games ? I have told you often enough what things they are, What precious things, thefe widows !
Hare. If we had 'em.
Val. Why, the devil has notcraft enough to woo 'em. There be three kinds of fools, (mark this note, gen tlemen, Mark it, and underftand it.)
Fount. Well,' go forward.
VaL An innocent, a knave fool, a fool politick : The laft of which are lovers, widow-lovers.
Eel. Will you allow no fortune ?
Val. No fuch blind one.
Fount. We gave you reafons, why 'twas needful for us.
Val. As you're thofe fools, I did allow thofe reafons, But, as my fcholars and companions, damn'd 'em. Do you know what it is to wooe a widow ? . Anfwer me coolly now, and underftandingly.
Hare. Why, to lie with her, and to enjoy her wealth.
Val. Why, there you're fools ftill ; crafty to catch
yourfelves,
Pure politick fools ; I look'd for fuch an anfwer. Once more hear me : It is, To wed a widow, to b~ doubted mainly, Whether the ilate you have be yours or no, Or thofe old boots you ride in. Mark me ; widows
Are
WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
Are long extents in law upon mens' livings,
Upon their bodies winding-meets14^ they that enjoy
'em,
Lie but with dead mens' monuments, and beget Only their own ill epitaphs. Is not this plain now ?
Bel. Plain fpoken.
VaL And plain truth ; but, if you'll needs PO things of danger, do but lofeyourfelves, (Not any part concerns your underftandings, For then you are meacocks, fools, and miferable) March off amain ! within an inch of a fircug I7, Turn me on the toe like a weather-cock ! Kill every day a ferjeant for a twelvemonth, Rob the Exchequer, and burn all the Rolls ! And thefe will make a mow.
Hare. And thefe are trifles ?
Val. Confider'd to a widow, empty nothings ;
1(5 Widows are long extents in /aw upon news, livings .upon boditswinding-Jhect,] News was an odd corruption : My firlt conjefture was, upon men, living upon their bodies winding-fleets. IVJr. Theobald read, upon wens'1 livings, upon their bodies winding-fleet . Thi'< feeme4 a better reading than mine. But flill it had fome obfc-.ritiss. That widows are long extents in law upon mens' livings or eftates, is clear ; but how are they extents in law upon their bodies winding- (he ets? A proper attention to the metre gives good reafon to conclude the fecond upon to be an interpolation ; for the verfe is perfect, and the fenfe clear without it. Widows arc the winding-lheets and monu ments of their dead hufbands. Seaward.
The fecond upon fhould be retained. Widows, fays Valentine, are
long extents in law upon mens* livings ; upon their bodies <u>ind.ing-
J/jctts. ' Extents on their eltates, winding-fheets on their bodies.*
Where is the difficulty ? What follows proves this : Bedding with a
widow, proceeds Valentine, is celebrating your funeral.
*" Within an inch of a fircug.] I believe there is no fuch word as fircug. Mr. Theobald alters it to firelock, and was very fond of the conjeclure, for he fent it me among the few that he favoured me with by letter, but I cannot fee what danger there is in merely inarching near a firelock, unlefs in the inftant of difcharging, or what relation turning 0' the toe like a weather- cock, has to a firelock. I dare fay the Authors originally ufed a word ttyat fignified a place to turn upon, where to flip was certain death ; the belt word 1 know is precipice, but that's too far from the trace of the letters. Whirl pool, furnace, and ff ire- top, would give the fenfe required, but I iiuii not venture either of them in the text. Seward.
Foi
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 317
For here you venture but your perfons, there The varnim of your perfons, your difcretions. Why, 'tis a monftrous thing to marry at all, Efpecially as now 'tis made : Methinks A man, an underftanding man, is more l8 wife To me, and of a nobler tie, than all thefe trinkets. What do we get by women, but our fenfes, Which is the rankeft part about us, fatisfied ? And, when that's done* what are we ? Creft-fall'ri
cowards !
What benefit can children be, but charges, And difobedience ? What's the love they render At onc-and- twenty years ? ' I pray die, father !' When they are young, they are like bells rung back wards, Nothing but noife and giddinefs ; and, come to years
once,
There drops a fon by th' fword in his miflrefs's quarrel ; A great joy to his parents ! A daughter ripe too, Grows high and lufty in her blood, muft have A heating, runs away with a fupple-ham'd fervingman ; His twenty nobles fpent, takes to a trade, And learns to fpin mens' hair off ; there's another : And moil are of this nature. Will you marry ?
Foun. For my part, yes, for any doubt I feel yet,
VaL And this fame widow ?
Fount. If I may -9 and, methinks, However you are pleafed to difpute thcfe dangers, Such a warm match, and for you, Sir, were not hurtful.
VaL Not half fo killing as for you. For me, She can't, with all the art me has, make me more
miferable,
Or much more fortunate : I have no flate left, A benefit that none of you can brag of, And there's the antidote againft a widow ;
18 More wife to me,] Good fenfe, which is the belt manufcript, lets us fee at once that wife is a corruption, and that our Pacts undoubtedly wrote nvift. Sympfon.
Nothing
gig WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Nothing to lofe, but that my foul inherits, Which fhe can neither law nor claw away -, To that, but little flefh, it were too much elfe ; And that unwholefome too, it were too rich elfe. And, to all this, contempt of what me does : I can laugh at her tears, neglect her angers, Hear her without a faith, fo pity her +
As if me were a traitor ; moan her perfon, But deadly hate her pride -, if you could do thefc, And had but this discretion, and like fortune, 'Twere but an equal venture.
Fount. This is malice.
Val. When Die lies with your land, and not with
you, ^ m
Grows great with jointures, and is brought to-bed, With all the flate you have, you'll find this certain. But is it come to pafs you muft marry ? Is there no buff will hold you ?
Bel. Grant it be fo ?
Val. Then chufe the tamer evil, take a maid, A maid not worth a penny ; make her yours, Knead her, and mould her yours j a maid worth
nothing :
There is a virtuous fpell in that word nothing. A maid makes conference
Of half-a-crown a- week for pins and puppets I9; A maid's content with one coach and two horfes, Not falling out becaufe they are not matches ; With one man fatisfied, with one rein guided,
*9 Pins and puppets,] As there is a fylJable wanting in the mea- fure here, I have ventured to fupply it. Pins and puppet- (hows feem to me rather more exprefuve of a lady's pocket expences than pins and puppets. $e--wara.
Mr. Sympfon propofes reading, pins and ^'m -puppet s -t and lays,
* The fashionable pin-cafes in our AuthotV days, were made in the ' ihape of little puppets, or poppets j and tho1 that cuftom is difcon-
* tinued, we Hill retain the word pin poppets to this very day in the ' north of England.' But allowing this to have been the Authors' meaning, we cannot think any addition neceilary ; the old text con- veying fully the fenfe required, that a maid will not be fo exorbitant in what is culled pin-maney as a widow.
With
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 319
With one faith, one content, one bedzo;
Aged, fhe makes the wife, preferves the fame and iflue -9
A widow is a Ch rift mas- box that fweeps alL
Fount. Yet all this cannot fink us.
VaL You're my friends,
And all my loving friends •, I fpend your money,, Yet I deferve it too > you are my friends ftill. I ride your horfes, when I want I fell 'em j I eat your meat, help to wear your linen ; Sometimes I make you drunk, and then you feal,. For which I'll do you this commodity. Be rul'd, and let me try her, I'll difcover her -9 The truth is, I will never leave to trouble her, 'Till I fee through her ; then, if I find her worthy —
Hare. This was our meaning, Valentine.
Val 'Tis done then. I mufl want nothing.
Hare. Nothing but the woman.
Val. No jealoufy j for, when I marry, The devil muft be wifer than I take him, And the flefh foolifher. Come, let's to dinner ; And when I'm whetted well with wine, have at her ?
\_Exeunt.
20 One bed, aged fie makes the wife,] Mr. Theobald reads, the «zt'//> from the old quarto, and Mr. Syrnpfou, tbee wife, both re taining the word aged, which, tho' not nonfenfe, fecms to add very little to the fenfe, efpecially to Mr. Theobald's reading, which to me feems as far as he alters, to be the true one. But what convinces me that aged is a ipurious word, is, that it utterly fpoils the meafure ; my reading is near the trace of the letters, reitores the verfe, and gives, I think, a much better fenfe, viz. that a maid when married has one good, or tke fame ir.tererl with her hufband, in contradiction to a widow, who generally has a feparate one. Seward.
Mr. Seward'a reading is,
With one faith, one content, one led, one good, She makes the ivtft, preferves, &C.
Mr. Seward's alteration is licentious, and one good \s not fo ftrong a finifli as one bed, befides that it is already implied in one faith, one content. Aged is, it is true, rather hard, but not unintelligble ; fig- nifying, that the maid, when grown older, makes a good wife, and preferves the reputation of the family, £c, which is not the cafe with a widow.
Enter
320 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Enter Ifabella and Luce.
Ifab. But art thou fure ?
Luce. No furer than I heard.
Ifab. That it was that flouting fellow's brother ?
Luce. Yes, Shorthofe told me fo.
Ifab. He did fearch out the truth ?
Luce. It feems he did.
Ifab. Prithee, Luce, call him hither. If he be no worfe, I ne'er repent my pity. Now, Sirrah, what was he we fent you after> The gentleman i' th' black ?
Enter Shortbofe.
Short. F th' torn black ? Ifab. Yes, the fame, Sir. Short. What would your wormip with him ? Ifab. Why, my wormip Would know his name, and what he is.
Short. 'Is nothing ; He is a man, and yet he is no man. Ifab. You muft needs play the fool. Short. 'Tis my profeflion. Ifab. How is he a man, and no man ? Short. He's a beggar \
Only the fign of a man, the bum pull'd clown, Which fhews the houfe (lands empty. Ifab. What's his calling ? Short. They call him beggar. Ifab. What's his kindred ? Short. Beggars. Ifab. His worth ?
Short. A learned beggar, a poor fcholar, Ifab. How does he live ? . Short. Like worms, he eats old books. Ifab. Is Valentine his brother ? Short. His begging brother. Ifab. What may his name be ? Short. Orfon.
Ifab.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 321
Ifab. Leave your fooling.
Short. You had as good fay, leave your living.
Ifab. Once more, Tell me his name directly.
Short. I'll be hang'd firft, Unlefs I heard him chriften'd ; but I can tell What foolifh people call him.
Ifab. What?
Short. Francifco.
Ifab. Where lies this learning, Sir ?
Short. In Paul's Church-yard, forfooth21.
Ifab. I mean that gentleman, fool !
Short. Oh, that fool ; He lies in loofe meets every where, that's no where.
Luce. You have glean'd,
Since you came to London ^ in the country, Shorthofe, You were an arrant fool, a dull cold coxcomb ; Here every tavern teaches you ; the pint pot Has fo belabour'd you with wit, your brave ac quaintance
That gives you ale, fo fortified your mazard, / That now there is no talking to you.
Ifab. 'Is much improv'd ; A fellow, a fine difcourfer !
Short. I hope fo ;
I have not waited at the tail of wit So long, to be an afs.
Luce. But, fay now, Shorthofe, My lady mould remove into the country ?
Short. I had as lieve me mould remove to Heav'n, And as foon I'd undertake to follow her.
Luce. Where no old charnico" is, nor no anchovies,
Nor
11 In Paul's Church yard, forfooth.~\ Jn our Authors' time, the bookfellers dwelt for the molt part round about St. Paul's cath'edial, and iheltered their books in a fubterranean church under it, called St. Faith's. At the fire of London, the lofs to perfons in that profeiiion, and in that place only, was ellimated at an immenfe fum. R.
'•J- Charnico.~\ A cup of cbarneco is mentioned in the Second Part of Henry VI. but as the feveral Editors of" Shakefpeare have not agreed'
VOL. II. X in
322 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Nor mafler Snch-a-one, to meet at the Rofe,
And bring my ladySuch-a-one's chief chambermaid.
Ifab. No bouncing healths to this brave lad, dear
Shorthofe, Nor down o' th' knees to that illuftrious lady.
Luce. No fiddles, nor no lufty noife of * Drawer, 4 Carry this pottle to my father Shorthofe/
Ifab. No plays nor gally-foifts, no (trange ambafTadors To run and wonder at, till thou be'ft oil, / And then come home again, and lie by thj legend.
Luce. Say, me mould go ?
Short. If I fay fo, I'll be hang'd -, Or, if I thought fhe'd go
Luce. What ?
Sbort. I'd go with her.
Luce. But, Shorthofe, where thy heart is
Ifab. Do not fright him.
in the explanation of it, we (hail fet down what each hath faid on the fubject.
' On this, fays bifhop Warburton, the Oxford Editor thus criti- ' cifes in his Index : * This feems to have been a cant word for fome " flrong liquor, which was apt to bring drunken fellows to the flocks, 4 fince in Spanifh cbarniegos is a term ufed for the flocks.' It was no cant word, but a common name for a fort of fweet wine, as appears from a paftige in a pamphlet infilled, The Difcovery of a London Monfter, called the Black Dog of Newgate, printed 1612:. * Some drinking the neat wine of Orieance, fome the Gaicony, ' fome the Bourdeaux. There wanted neither fherry, fack, nor ' charneco, maligo, nor amber-colour'd candy, nor liquoiim ipocras^ ' brown beloved baflard, fat aligant, or any quick-fpirited liquor/ And as cbarneca is, in Spanilh, the name of a kind of turpen tine-tree, I imagine the growth of it was in fome dilirift abounding, with that tree ; or that it Had its name from a certain flavour re- fembling it.' Thus far the bifhop. Mr. Hawkins fays, * The vul gar name for this liquor was ciar'.jgo. I meet with it in an old- catch fet to mufic by Lawes.' V.nd the hit editor has added the following examples. ' In a pamphlet entitled, Wits Miferie ; or, The World's JVkdnefs, printed in 1596,^ is faid, that * the oniy medicine for the fleghm is thiee cups of ckarneco. failing.' In Colkdion of Epigrams and Satires, without date, but of the far age, this liquor . ;.s mentioned again :
*' hsppy is the man doth, rightly know
•* The virtue of three cups of cbarntco" R.
Lues-.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 323
Luce. By this hand, miftrefs, 'tis a noife, a loud
one too,
And from her own mouth ; prefently to be gone too ! But why ? or to what end ?
Short. Mayn't a man die firfl ? She'll give him fo much time. Ifab. Gone o' th' fudden ?
Thou doft but jefl; me muft not mock the gentlemen. Lute. She has put them off a month, they dare not
fee her. Believe me, miflrefs, what I hear.I tell you.
Ifab. Is this true, wench ? Gone on fo fhort a warn ing !
What trick is this ? She never told me of it ; It muft not be ! Sirrah, attend me prefently, (You know I've been a careful friend unto you) Attend me in the hall, and next be faithful. )ry not ; we mail not go. Short. Her coach may crack ! [Exeunt.
Enter Valentine, Francifco, and Lance.
Vol. Which way to live ! How dar'ft thou come
to town, To afk fuch an idle queftion ?
Fran. Methinks, 'tis neceflary, Unlefs you could reftore that annuity You have tippled up in taverns.
Vol. Where hail thou been,
And how brought up, Francifco, that thou talk'fl Thus out of France ? Thou wert a pretty fellow, And of a handfome knowledge ; who has fpoil d thee?
Lance. He that has fpoil'dhimfelf,to make him fport, And, by his copy, will fpoil ail comes near him : Buy but a glafs, if you be yet fo wealthy, And look there who.
Vd. Well faid, old Copyhold.
Lance. My heart's good freehold, Sir, and fo you'll
find it ;
This gentleman's your brother, your hopeful brother, X 2 x(For
324 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
(For there's no hope of you) ufe him thereafter,
Val. E'en as well as I ufe myfelf. What wouldfl thou have,. Frank ?
Fran. Can you procure me a hundred pound ?
Lance. Hark what he fays to you. Oh, try your wits •, they fay you're excellent at it ;. Far your land has lain long bed-rid, and unfenfible.
Fran. And I'll forget all wrongs. You fee my ftate, And to what wretchednefs your will has brought me-, But what it may be, by this benefit, If timely done, and like a noble brother, Both you and I may feel, and to our comforts.
Val. A hundred pound ! doft thou know what thou'ft faid, boy ?
Fran. I faid, a hundred pound.
Val. Thou haft faid more Than any man can juftify, believe it. Procure a hundred pounds ! I fay to thee, There's no fuch fum in nature •, forty millings There may be now i' th' Mint, and that's a treafure, I have feerr five pound ; but let me tell it, And 'tis as wonderful as calves with five legs. Here's five millings, Frank, the harveft of five weeks, And a good crop too; take it, and pay thy firft-fruits ^ I will come down, and eat it out.
Fran. 'Tis patience Muft meet with you, Sir, not love.
Lanes. Deal roundly, And leave thefe fiddle-faddles.
Val. Leave thy prating ! Thou think'ft thou art a notable wife fellow, Thou and thy rotten fparrow-hawk -, two of the re verend !
Lance. I think you are mad, or, if you be not,
will be
With the next moon, Wrhat would you have him do? Val. How?
Lance. To get money firft, that is, to live •, You've fhew'd him how to want.
Val
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 325
Vol. 'Slife, how do I live ? Why, what dull fool would afk that queflion ? Three hundred three-pilds more23, ay, and live bravely j The better half o' th' town, and live moft glorioufly : Afk them what fbates they have, or what annuities, Or when they pray for feafonable harvefts ! T-hou haft a handfome wit ; ftir into the world, Frank0 Stir, ftir for Ihame •, thou art a pretty fcholar. Afk how to live ? Write, write, write any thing ; The world's a fine believing world, write news.
Lance. Dragons in SufTex a4, or fiery battles Seen in the air at Afpurge ?
Vol. There's the way, Frank. And, in the tail of thefe, fright me the kingdom With a fharp prognofticatioo, that mall fcour them (Dearth upon dearth) like Levant taffaties zs -9
15 Three hundred three pilds tnorc.~\ /. e. Three hundred who drefs •richly, or in three-pil'd velvets. Seaward.
24 Dragons in Suffex.] In 16*4, there was a difcourfe publifhed, of a ftrange monftrous ferpent, in St. Leonard's Foreft, and two miles from Hormam in Suffex, \vhich was difcovered there in the month of Auguft, in the fame year. The relation is fet forth with an air of great fmcerity, and attefted by eye-witneiTes living on the place. But, from the defcription, we are to fuppofe fomething further intended by it, or that fome conundrum or other, as Ben Jonibn (by whom it is mentioned in his Mafque, called News from the New World Dif covered in the Moon) ftyles it, was couched under the account : This ferpent, or dragon% as fome call it, is reputed to be nine feet, or rather more, in length, and fhaped almoft in the form of an axle-tree of a cart; a quantity of thicknefs in the middle, and fomewhat fmaller at both ends. The former part, which he (hoots forth as a neck, is fuppofed to be aa ell long, with a white ring, as it were, of fcales about it. The fcales along his back feem to be blackiih, and fo much as is difcovered under his belly appeareth to be red ; for I fpeak of no nearer defcription than of a reafonable ocular diftance. There are likewife, on either fide of him, difco vered two great bunches, fo big as a large football, and, as fome think, will in time grow to be wings, &c? More to the fame purpofe may be found in the account itfelf, which is reprinted in the third volume of the Harleian Mifcellany. Whalley.
** Z,/&?leven tafaties.~\ Levant or Turky taffaties is good fenfe* which the former reading feems net to be ; the conjecture therefore, which is Mr. Sympfon's, tho' advanc'd with doubt by him, I think -a very happy one. Senvard.
X 3 Predidions
326 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Predictions of fea-breaches, wars, and want Of herrings on our coaft, with bloody nofes.
Lance. Whirlwinds, that mall take off the top of
Grantham fteeple,
And clap it on Paul's -, and, after thefe, A I'envcy to the city for their iins ? , Vol. Probatum eft ; thou canft not want a penfion< Go, fwitch me up a covey of young fcholars, There's twenty nobles, and two loads of coals. Are not thefe ready ways ? Cofmography Thoifrt deeply read in j draw me a map from the
Mermaid z6,
I mean a midnight map, to fcape the watches, And fuch long lenfeleis examinations ^ And gentlemen fhall feed thee, right good gentlemen. I cannot flay long.
Lance. You've read learnedly !
a6 A map from the Mermaid.~\ Botn ftnfe and meafure confirm the trifling alteration which I've made, but I fliould have ventured it without a note, had it not been neceffai y to mention that the Mer maid was probably a famous tavern. Valentine in the next fceae bids Francifco meet him at the Mermaid, Seaward.
Mr. Seward reads,
Draw me a map o' the Mermaid.
The Mermaid was a houfe of entertainment, at which our Poets, Shiikefpeare, Ben Jonfon, and all the wits of the age, ufed to sffem- bie. It is frequently mentioned by the writeis of our Authors' time, and celebrated by Beaumont, in the following paflage of a letter from him to Ben Jonionv:
What things hnve we feen
Done at the Mermaid f heard word:? that have been
So nimble and fo full of fubtile flame,
As if that every one from whence they came
Had meant to put his whole <wit in zjeft,
And had refolv'd to live a fool the rcit
Of his dull life.'
FROM the Mermaid is clearly right; meaning ' inftruclions how to ' efcape the watch, at departing from the tavern, and thereby avoid ' long fenlclefs official examinations ; for which map, or injlruflions* •* Francifco fhould be ftd by right good gentlemen.^ If Mr. Seward only thought it probable, that a tavern was meant, it is amazing he fhould not have underiiood the paffage ; of which his ' trifing alter ation makes downright nonfenfe.
; And
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 327
And would you have him follow thefe chimeras *7 ? Did you begin with ballads ?
Fran. Well, I'll leave you ; I fee my wants are grown ridiculous : Yours may be fo •, I will not curfe you neither. You may think, when thefe wanton fits are over, Who bred me, and who ruin'd me. Look to your-
felf, Sir; A providence I wait on !
Val. Thou art paffionate i8 •, Haft thou been brought up with girls ?
Enter Shorthofe, with a bag. Short. Reft you merry, gentlemen. VaL Not fo merry as you fuppofe, Sir. Short. Pray ftay a while, and let me take a view of
/ you ;
I may put my fpoon into the wrong pottage-pot elfe. Val. Why, wilt thou mufter us ? Short. No, you're not he; You are a thought too handfome.
Lance. Who wouldft thou fpeak withal ? why doft
thou peep fo ?
Short. I'm looking birds' nefts : I can find none Jn your bum-beard ! I'd fpeak with you, black
gentleman.
Fran. With me, my friend ? Short. Yes, fure ; and the beft friend, Sir, It feems, you fpake withal this twelve-month, gentle man.
There's money for you. Val. How?
Short. There's none for yon, Sir. Be not fo brief ! [ot a penny. La ! how he itches at ft ! >tand off; you ftir my .choler. Lance. Take it ; 'tis money.
a7 Megeras.] Former editions. Seiuard.
*8 Thou art paffionate. } Paffionate fignifies here, in the old fenfe, tenderhearted', not> in the modern fenfe, difpofed to anger.
X 4 Short.
328 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Short. You are too quick too -9 firft, be fure you
have it : You feem to be a falconer, but a foolifh one.
Lance. Take it, and fay nothing.
Short. You are cozen'd too -, 'Tis take it, and fpend it.
Fran. From whom came it, Sir ?
Short. Such another word, and you mail have none on't.
Fran. I thank you, Sir; I doubly thank you !
Short. Well, Sir;
Then, buy you better clothes, and get your hat drefs'd, And your laundrefs to warn your boots white.
Fran. Pray Hay, Sir •, may you not be miftaken ?
Short. I think I am -, Give me the money again •, come, quick, quick, quick !
Fran. I would be loth to render, till J am fure it be fo.
Short. Hark in your ear ; is not your name Francifco ?
Fran. Yes.
Short. Be quiet then : It may thunder a hundred times, Before fuch ftones fall. Don't you need it ?
Fran. Yes.
Short. And it is thought you have it.
Fran. Yes ; I think I have.
Short. Then hold it fad ; it is not fly-blown. You may pay for the poundage •, you forget yourfelf ; I have not feen a gentleman fo backward, A wanting gentleman.
Fran. Your mercy, Sir !
Short. Friend, you have mercy, a whole bag full of
mercy. Be merry with it, and be wife.
Fran. I would fain, If it pleafe you, but know
Short. It does not pleafe me : Tell o'er your money, and be not mad, boy.
Val. You have no more fuch bags ?
Short. More fuch there are, Sir,
But
WIT WITHOUT M-ONEY. 329
But few I fear for you. I've caft your water ; You've Wit, you need no Money. [Exit.
Lance. Be not amaz'd, Sir •,
'Tis good gold, good old gold ; this is reftorative, And in good time, it comes to do you good. Keep it and ufe it ; Jet honeft fingers feel it ; Yours be too quick, Sir.
Fran. He nam'd me, and he gave it me ; but from whom ?
Lance. Let 'em fend more, and then examine it. This can be but a preface.
Fran. Being a ftranger, Of whom can I deferve this ?
Lance. Sir, of any man
That has but eyes, and manly underftanding, To find mens' wants : Good men are bound to do fo.
Val. Now you fee, Frank, there are more ways than
certainties ; Now you believe. What plough brought you this
harveft,
What fale of timber, coals, or what annuities ? Thefe feed no hinds, nor wait the expectation Of quarter-days •, you fee it fhow'rs in to you. You are an afs ! Lie plodding, and lie fooling, About this blazing ftar, and that bopeep, Whining, and fafting, to find the natural reafon Why a dog turns twice about before he lie down ! What ufe of thefe, or what joy in annuities, Where every man's thy ftudy, and thy tenant ? I am afham'd on thee !
Lance. Yes, I have feen This fellow. There's a wealthy widow hard by
Val. Yes, marry is there.
Lance. I think he's her fervant -, I am cozen'd, if After her ! I am fure on't 29.
29 1 am cofend if after her, 1 am fure ont.~\ We have here fol lowed the words of the firft edition, but varied the pointing in fuch a manner as for the fpeech to convey much humour. The more mo dern editions read, I think his her fervant , or / am cozen 4 elfe, / Wnfure ont.
Fran*
230 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Fran. I am glad on't.
Lance. She's a good woman.
Fran. I am gladder,
Lance. And young enough, believe.
Fran. I am gladder of all, Sir.
Val. Frank, you (hall lie with me foon.
Fran. I thank my money.
Lance. His money mall lie with me; three in a
bed, Sir, Will be too much this weather.
Val. Meet me at the Mermaid, And thou malt fee what things
Lance. Truft to yourfelf, Sir. [Exe. Fran, and Lan.
Enter Fount am ^ Harebrain 3°, and Bellamore.
Fount. Oh, Valentine !
Val. How now P why do you look fo ?
Bel. The widow's going, man.
Val. Why, let her go, man. .**•>
Hare. She's going out o' th' town.
Val. The town's the happier ; I would they were all gone.
Fount. We cannot come To fpeak with her.
Val. Not to fpeak to her ?
Bel. She will Be gone within this hour •, either now 31, Val.
Fount. Hare. Now, now, now, good Val.
Val. I'd rather
March i* ths mouth o* ths cannon. Butr adieu ! If me be above ground — Go, away to your prayers ; •Away I fay, away ! — fhe mail be fpoken withal !
[Exeunt.
*° Enter Fountain, and Bellamore.] Mr. Theobald has juflly added Harebrain to the other two. Snvard.
** Either now Val !~\ Either appears to us to be corrupt, and what follows confirms it. The fenfe would warrant 4t her now, Val I— at leaft, fome words to that purport are neceffary : See her now, Val ! or to her now, Val ! or any thing to that effedti perhaps, thither now, Val!
Enter
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 331
Enter Shorthofe, with one loot on, Roger and Humphry.
Rog. She will go, Shorthofe, Short. Who can help it, Roger ? Ralph [within]. Roger, help down with the hangings ! Rog. By and by, Ralph -, J am making up o' th' trunks here, Ralph. Shorthofe ! Short. Well.
Ralph. Who looks fo my lady's wardrobe ? Hum phry !
Hum. Here.
Ralph. Down wit:h the boxes in the gallery, And bring away the coach-cufhions.
Short. Will it not rain ? No conjuring abroad, nor no devices, To ftop this journey ?
Rog. Why go now, why now, Why o' th' fudden now ? What preparation, What horfes have we ready ? what provifion J^aid in i' th' country ? Hum. Not an egg, I hope. Rog. No, nor one drop of good drink, boys, there's
the devil.
Short. I heartily pray the malt be mufty ^ and then We muft come up again.
Hum. What fays the fteward ? Rog. He's at's wit's end ; for, fome four hours fince, Out of his hafle and providence, he miflook The miller's mangy mare for his own nag.
Short. And me may break his neck, and fave the
journey. Oh, London, how I love thee !
Hum. I've no boots,
Nor none I'll buy : Or, if I had, refufe me If I would venture my ability Before a cloak-bag ; men are men.
Short. For my part, If I be brought, as I know 'twill be aim'd at,
To
WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
To carry any dirty dairy cream-pot,
Or any gentle lady of the laundry,
Chambring, or wantonnefs, behind my gelding.
With all her ftreamers, knapfacks, glarTes, gewgaws,
As if I were a running frippery 3%
I'll give 'em leave to cut my girths, and flay me,
I'll not be troubled with their diftillations ",
At every half-mile's end ! I underftand myfelf,
And am refolv'd
Hum. To-morrow night at Olivers ! Who mail be there, boys ? who mall meet the wenches
Rog. The well-brew'd ftand of ale, we mould hav met at i
Short. Thefe griefs, like to another tale of Troy, Would mollify the hearts of barbarous people, And make Tom Butcher weep ! ./Eneas enters, And now the town is loft.
Enter Ralph. Ralph. Why, whither run you ? My lady's mad.
Short. I would me were in Bedlam. Ralph. The carts are comej no hands to help to load 'em]
The fluff lies in the hall, the plate
Widow [within]. Why knaves there I Where be thefe idle fellows ?
Short. Shall I ride with one boot ? Wid. Why, where I fay ? Ralph. Away, away, it muft be fo. Short. Oh, for a tickling ftorm, to laft but ten days,
[Exeunt.
3* Flippery.] Corre&ed by the Editors of 1750.
Frippery is mentioned in Monfieur d'Olive, a Comedy, by Chapman,' 1606. * Faffing yelterday by the Frippery, I fpied two of them hang- * ing out at a itail, with a gambrell thruit from moulder to moulder.* It is allo mentioned in the Tempeft, aft iv. R.
Rue de FRIPPERIE, in Paris, is a place, like our Monmouth-Street, deftined for the fale of old clothes.
33 ViHibations.] Corrected in 1750.
A C T?
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. ACT III.
4
Enter Ifabella and Luce.
Luce.JTYY my troth, miltrefs, I did it for the beft. JJ
may be fo ; but, Luce, you have a tongue, A dim of meat in your mouth, which, if 'twere minc'd,
Luce, Would do a great deal better.
Luce. I proteft, miftrefs --
Ifab. 'Twill be your own one time or other. Walter \
Walter [within]. Anon forfooth.
Ifab. Lay my hat ready, my fan and cloak — You are fo full of providence — and, Walter, Tuck up my little box behind the coach ; And bid my maid make ready — my fweet fervicc To your good lady miftrefs — and my dog -9 Good, let the coachman carry him.
Luce. But, hear me !
Ifab. I am in love, fweet Luce, and you're fo fkilful, That I muit needs undo myfelf — and, hear me, Let Oliver pack up my glafs difcretely, And fee my curls well carried — Oh, fweet Luce, You have a tongue, and open tongues have open — You know what, Luce.
Luce. Pray you be fatisfied.
Ifab. Yes, and contented too, before I leave you ! There is a Roger, which fome call a butler u — I fpeak of certainties,* I do not fim, Luce : Nay, do not flare ^ I have a tongue can talk too — And a green chamber, Luce, a back-door
O '7
Opens to a long gallery -, there was a night, Luce— Do you perceive, do you perceive me yet ?
Call a butcher.] There was a Roger in the family, but he was the butler and not a butcher, and there can fcarce be any doubt of his being the perfon fpoke of here. Sjmtfon.
Oh.
334 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Oh, do you blufh, Luce ? — a Friday night —
I faw your faint, Luce : 'For t'other box of marmalade^
All's thine, fweet Roger!' — this I heard, and kept too.
Luce. E'en as you're a woman, miftrefs
Ifab. This I allow
As good and phyfical fometimes, thefe meetings, And for the cheering of the heart j but, Luce, To have your own turn ferv'd, and to your friend To be a dogbolt !
Luce. I confefs it, miftrefs.
Ifab. As you have made my fifter jealous of me, And foolifhly, and childilhly purfued it — I have found out your haunt, and trac'd your purpofes, For which mine honour fuffers — your beft ways Muft be applied to bring her back again, And ferioufly and fuddenly, that fo I May have a means to clear myfelf, and fhe A fair opinion of me : Elfe, you peeviih
Luce. My power and prayers, miftrefs
Ifab. What's the matter ?
Enter Shorthofe and Widow.
Short. I have been with the gentleman ^ he has it, Much good may do him with it. [To Ifa~
Wid. Come, are you ready ? You love fo to delay time ! the day grows on.
Ifab. I've fent for a few trifles -, when thofe are coi And now I know your reafon,
Wid. Know your own honour then — About youi
bufmefs -9
See the coach ready prefently — I'll tell you more then^
\Exe. Luce and Sbortbofc.
Andunderftand it well. Youmuft not think your filter So tender-eyed as not to fee your follies : Alas, I know your heart, and muft imagine, And truly too, 'tis not your charity Can coin fuch fums to give away as you have done-, In that you have no wiidom, Ifabel, no, nor modeftyJ Where nobler uies are at home. I tell you,
I am
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 335
I am amam'd to find this in your years, Far more in your difcretion. None to chufe But things for pity, none to feal your thoughts on, But one of no abiding, of no name ?
D'
Nothing to bring you but this, cold and hunger, (A jolly jointure, filter-, you are happy!) No money, no, not ten millings ?
Ifab. You fearch nearly.
Wid. I know it, as I know your folly ; one that
knows not
Where he mail eat his next meal, take his reft, Unlefs it be i' th' flocks. What kindred has he, But a more wanting brother ? or what virtues ?
Ifab. You have had rare intelligence, I fee, fifler.
Wid. Or, fay the man had virtue, Is virtue in this age a full inheritance ? What jointure can he make you ? Plutarch's Morals ? Or fo much penny- rent in the fmall poets ? This is not well ; 'tis weak, and I grieve to know it.
Ifab. And this you quit the town for ?
Wid. Is't not time ?
Ifab. You are better read in my affairs than I am -f That's all I have to anfwer. I'll go with you, And willingly ; and what you think moft dangerous, I'll fit and laugh at. For, filter, 'tis not folly, But good difcietion, governs our main fortunes.
Wid. Pm glad to hear you fay fo.
Ifab. I am for you. \Exeunt.
Enter Shortbofe and Humphry , with riding rods.
Hum. The devil cannot ftay her, me will on't. Eat an egg now ; and then we muit away.
Sbert. I am gall'd already, yet I will pray : May London ways henceforth be full of holes, And coaches crack their wheels •, may zealous fmiths So houfel all our hacknies*5, tnat tncy may feel
35 So houiel all our hacknies.] /". e. Prepare our 1; cries for ih> jour ney that they may feel compunftion in their feet. It is indeed a iittie profane, but that J'rn lorry for; our Authors are not io cautious of this as we might wilh them, tho' they are much more fo than molt of the comic waters of their : ge, cr of any age fiiice. Sw.ard,
Compunction
WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Compunction in their feet, and tire at Highgate ; May't rain above all almanacks, until The carriers fail, and the king's fimmonger Uide like Arion on a trout to London !
Hum. At St. Albans, let all the inns be drunk, Not an hoft fober, to bid her worfhip welcome !
Short. Not a fiddle, but all preach'd down with
Puritans ; No meat, but legs of beef !
Hum. No beds, but woolpacks !
Short. And thofe fo cramm'd
With warrens of ftarv'd fleas that bite like bandogs ! Let Mims be angry at their St. Bel Swagger *6, And we pafs in the heat on't, and be beaten, Beaten abominably, beaten horfe and man, And all my lady's linnen fprinkled o'er With fuds and difh-water !
Hum. Not a wheel but out of joint !
Enter Roger laughing.
Why doft thou laugh ?
Rog. There's a gentleman, and the rareft gentleman, ' And makes the rareft fport !
Short. Where, where ?
Rog. Within here ;
H' has made the gayeft fport with Tom the coachman, So tew'd him up with fack, that he lies laming A butt of malmfy for his mares !
Short.. 'Tis very good.
Rog. And talks and laughs, and fings the rareft fongs I
36 Let Mims be angry at their St. Bel Swagger,
And we pafs in the heat o»V/j Mims is in the neighbourhood of St. Albans, and fome local cuiiom, tumuituoufly celebrated, is plainly alluded to in this fpeech. It was, we doubt not, familiarly known in the times of our Authors ; but we have in vain endeavoured to trace its memory, ordifcover its origin.
37 Short. Not a wheel but out of joint /] All the editions concur in giving thefe words to Shorthofe, notwithstanding the preceding fpeech belongs to him. We have ventured to place them to Humphry.
An(
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 337
And, Shorthofe, he has fo maul'd the red deer pies,
Made fuch an alms i' th* buttery
Short. Better (till.
Enter Valentine and Widvw.
Hum. My Lady, in a rage with the gentleman !
Short. May he anger her into a fever. [ Exe. Servants.
Wid. I pray tell me, who fent you hither ? For I imagine 'tis not your condition, (You look fo temperately, and like a gentleman) To afk me thefe wild queflions.
VaL Do you think I ufe to walk of errands, gentle lady ; Or deal with women out of dreams from others ?
Wid. You have not known me, fure ?
Vol. Not much.
Wid. What reafon
Have you then to be fo tender of my credit ? You are no kinfman ?
VaL If you take it fo, The honefl office that I came to do you, Is not fo heavy but I can return it : Now I perceive you are too proud, not worth my vifit.
Wid. Pray flay a little ; proud ?
Vol. Monflrous proud ! I griev'd to hear a woman of your value, And your abundant parts, flung by the people ; But now I fee 'tis true : You look upon me As if I were a rude and faucy fellow, That borrow'd all my breeding from a dunghill ; Or fuch a one, as mould now fall and worfhip you, In hope of pardon : You are cozen'd, lady ; I came to prove opinion a loud liar, To fee a woman only great in goodnefs, And miftrefs of a greater fame than fortune :
But
Wid. You're a flrange gentleman ! If I were proud
now,
I fhould be monflrous angry (which I am not) And mew the effects of pride •, I fhould defpife you •, VOL. II. Y But,
WIT WITHOUT MONEY*.
But, you are welcome, Sir.
To think well of ourfelves, if we deferve it, is
A luftre in us ; and ev'ry good we have
Strives to fhew gracious : What ufe is it elfe ?
Old age, which 58, like fear trees, is feldom feen affeded,
Stirs fomc times at rehearfal of fuch acts
His daring youth endeavour'd.
VaL This is well ;
And, now you fpeak to the purpofe, you pleafe me. But, to be place-proud
Wid. If it be our own -, Why are we let here with distinction elfe, Degrees, and orders given us ? In you men, *Tis held a coolnefs, if you lofe your right •, Affronts are lofs of honour 39. Streets, and walls, And upper ends of tables, had they tongues, Could tell what blood has follow'd, and what feud, About your ranks : Are we fo much below you, That, 'till you have us, are the tops of nature, To be accounted drones without a difference ? You'll make us beafts indeed.
VaL Nay, worfe than this too, Proud of your clothes, they fwear ; a mercer's lucifer, A tumour tack'd together by a taylor ! Nay, yet worfe, proud of red and white j a varnifh, : That butter-milk can better.
Wid. Lord, how little
Will vex thefe 4° poor blind people ! If my clothes Be fometimes gay and glorious, does it follow, My mind muil be my mercer's too? Or, fay nv
beauty
Pleafe fome weak eyes, muft it pleaie them to thinkr That blows me up that every hour blows off ?
38 Old age like fear trees ', is feldom- feen ajfetted, flirs fimetimes.^, Here a monofyllable dropt had hurt the ienfe and meafure.
Sward.
39 4 {fronts and l«fs sf honour. ] It feeins abfolutely neceiTary alter and to are.
4° Poor blind people.] Mr. Sympfon would read fur -blind, but tl text does not Teem to want any amendment. Sew
Ti A *
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 339
This is an infant's anger.
Vol. Thus they fay too :
What tho* you have a coach lin'd thro* with velvet, And four fair Flanders mares, why fhould the ftreets
be troubled
Continually with you, till carmen curfe you ? Can there be ought in this but pride of mow, lady, And pride of bum-beating ? till the learned lawyers, With their fat bags, are thruft againfl the bulks, Till all their caufes crack ? Why fhould this lady, And t'other lady, and the third fweet lady, And madam at Mile-End, be daily vifited-, And your poorer neighbours with coarfe naps *T neg-
lecled,
Fafhions conferr'd about, pouncings, and paintings, And young mens' bodies read on like anatomies ?
Wid. You're very credulous, And fomewhat defperate, to deliver this, Sir, To her you know not ; but you mail confefs me, And find I will not ftart. In us all meetings Lie open to thefe lewd reports, and our thoughts at
church,
Our very meditations, fome will fwear (Which all fhould fear to judge> at leaft uncharitably) Are mingled with your memories ; cannot fleep, But this fweet gentleman fwims in our fancies, That fcarlet man of war, and that fmooth fignior \ Not drefs our heads without new ambufhes, How to furprize that greatnefs, or that glory ; Our very fmiles are fubject to conftructions \ Nay, Sir, it's come to this, we cannot pijb> But 'tis a favour for fome fool or other. Should we examine you thus, were't not pofiible To take you without perfpeclives ?
VaL It may be ; But thefe excufe not.
Wid. Nor yours force no truth, Sir..
4-1 Napfes.] So the two oldeft quarcos. Modern editions, napfes. The alteration is Mr. Seward's.
Y 2 What
34o WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
What deadly tongues you have, and to thofe tongues What hearts, and what inventions ! On my confcience, An 'twere not for fharp juftice, you would venture To aim at your own mothers, and account it glory To fay you had done fo. All you think are councils, And cannot err •, 'tis we ftill that mew double, Giddy, or gorg'd with pafTion -, we that build Babels for mens' confufions •, we that fcatter, As day does his warm light, our killing curfes Over God's creatures, next to the devil's malice : Let us entreat your good words.
Val. Well, this woman Has a brave foul. [Afide.
Wid. Are we not gaily bleft then, And much beholden to you for your fufferance 4I ? You may do what you lift, we what befeems us, And narrowly do that too, and precifely ; Our names are ferv'd in elfe at ordinaries, And belch'd abroad in taverns.
VaL Oh, moft brave wench, And able to redeem an age of women ! [Afide.
Wid. You are no whoremafters ! Alas, no, gentle men,
It were an impudence to think you vicious : You are fo holy, handfome ladies fright you ; You are the cool things of the time, the temperance, Mere emblems of the law, and veils of virtue -9 You are not daily mending like Dutch watches, And plaiftering like old walls •, they are not gentlemen-,1 That with their fecret fins encreafe our furgeons, And lie in foreign countries, for new fores •, Women are all thefe vices ; you're not envious, Falfe, covetous, vain-glorious, irreligious,
*f For your fubftance?] The Widow is declaiming at the liber- tinifm of men ; and as a contraft, fhews th« reitraint they on pain of cenfure inflic~l on the women. Jt is not the finall fhare of mainte nance or wealth that falls to the femaie fex which (he complains of; as the old reading implies, and therefore it has no connection with the context. My reading feems to give the idea required. $e<wat
Drunker
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 341
Drunken, revengeful, giddy-eyed like parrots, Eaters of others honours
Vol. You are angry.
Wid. No, by my troth, and yet I could fay more too ; For when men make me angry, I am miferable.
Vol. Sure 'tis a man ; fhe could not bear't thus bravely elfe. [Afide.
It may be, I am tedious.
Wid. Not at all? Sir. I am content at this time you mould trouble mp.
Val. You are diftruftful.
Wid. Where I find no truth, Sir.
Val. Come, come, you're full of paffion,
Wid. Some I have ; \ were too near the nature o' God elfe.
Val. You are monftrous peeviih.
Wid. Becaufe they're monftrous foolifh, And know not how to ufe that mould try me.
Val. I was never anfwer'd thus. \_Afide. ~\ — Was you ne'er drunk, lady ?
Wid. No fure, not drunk, Sir ; yet I love good wine, As I love health and joy of heart, but temperately. Why do you afk that queftion ?
Val. For that fin That they mod charge you with, is this fin's fervant ^
They fay, you are monftrous
' 'Wid. What, Sir, what ?
Val. Moft ftrangely
Wid. It has a name, fure ?
Vol. Infinitely luftful, Without all bounds; they f wear you kiti'dy our hufband.
Wid. Let's have it all, for Heav'n's fake ; 'tis good mirth, Sir.
Val. They fay you will have four now, and thofe four Stuck in four quarters, like four winds, to cool you. Will me not cry, nor curfe ? [AJide.
Wid. On with your ftory !
Val. And that you're forcing out of difpenfations, With fums of money, to that purpofe.
Y 3 Wid,
342 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Wid. Four hufbands ! Should not I be blefs'd, Sir,
for example ?
Lord, whatihould I do with them ? turn a malt-mill, Or tithe them out like town-bulls to my tenants ? You come to make me angry, but you cannot.
Vol. I'll make you merry then ; you're a brave woman^ And, in defpite of envy, a right one. Go thy ways ! troth, thou art as good a woman As any lord of 'em all can lay his leg over. I do not often commend your fex.
Wid. It feems fo, your commendations Are fo ftudied for.
Val. I came to fee you,
And fift you into flour, to know your purenefs ; And I have found you excellent •, I thank you ; Continue fo, and fhew men how to tread, And women how to follow. Get an hufband, An honeft man (you are a good woman) And live hedg'd in from fcandal •, let him be too An underflanding man, and to that ftedfaft ; 'Tis pity your fair figure mould mifcarry ; And then you're fix'd. Farewell !
Wid. Pray flay a little ;
I love your company, now you are fo:pleafant, And to my difpolition fet fo even.
Val. I can no longer. [Exit,
Wid. As I live, a fine fellow ! This manly handfbme bluntneis fhews him honeft. What is he, or from whence ? Biefs me, four hufbands \ How prettily he fool'd me into vices, To ftir my jealoufy, and find my nature. A proper gentleman ! I am not well o' th' fudden. Such a companion I could live and die with ! His angers are mere mirth.
Enter Ifabella.
Jfab. Come, come, Pm ready. Wid. Are you fo ?
Jfab. What ails (he?
The
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 343
The coach flays, and the people -5 the day goes on ;
I am as ready now as you defire, lifter.
jFy, who flays now ? Why do you fit and pout thus ?
Wid. Prithee be quiet ; I am not well.
Ifab. For Heaven's fake, jLet's not ride flagg'ring in the night ! Come, pray
you take Some fweetmeats in your pocket : If your ftomadi
Wid. I have a little bufinefs.
Ifab. To abufe me,
You mall not find new dreams, and new fufpicions. To horfe withal !
Wid. Lord, who made you a commander ? Jley ho, my heart !
Ifab. Is the wind come thither, And, coward-like, do you lofe your colours to 'em ? Are you fick o' th' Valentine, fweet fifler ? [Afide. Come, let's away ; the country will fo quicken you, And we mall live fo fweetly ! Luce, my lady's cloak ! Nay, you have put me into fuch a gog of going, I would not flay for all the world. If I live here, You have fo knock'd this love into my head, That I mall love any body ; and I find my body, I know not how, fo apt — Pray, let's be gone, fifler -9 I fland on thorns.
Wid. I prithee, Ifabella i (I'faith, I have fome bufmefs that concerns me) I will fufpedt no more. Here, wear that for me ; ,/Vnd I'll pay the hundred pound you owe your taylor,
Enter Shorthofe., Roger ^ Humphry ^ and Ralpb.
Ifab. I had rather go ; but
Wid. Come, walk in with me ; We3ll go to cards. Unfaddle the horfes ! Short. A jubilee ! a jubilee ! we flay, boys !
{Exeunt.
Enter Uncle and Lance ; Fountain^ Bellamore^ and Hare- brain following. Unc. Are they behind us ?
Y 4 Lance.
344 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Lance. Clofe, clofe ; fpeak aloud, Sir.
Unc. I'm glad my nephew has fo much difcretion, At length to find his wants. Did me entertain him I
Lance, Mod bravely, nobly, and gave him fuch a welcome !
Unc. For his own fake, do you think ?•
Lance. Moft certain, Sir ; And in his own caufe he beftir'd himfelf too, And wan fuch liking from her, me dotes on him. HJ has the command of all the houfe already.
Unc . He deals not well with his friends.
Lance. Let him deal on, And be his own friend ; he has moft need of her.
Unc. I wonder they would put him
Lance. You are in the right on't ; A man that mud raife himfelf-, I knew he'd cozen 'em. And glad I am he has. He watch'd occafion, And found it i' th' nick.,
Unc. He has decejv'd me.
Lance. I told you, howfoe'er he wheel'd about, He would charge home at length. How I could laugh
now, To think of thefe tame fools !
Unc. 'Twas not well done, Becaufe they trufted him ; yet
Bel. Hark you, gentlemen !
Unc. We are upon a bufmefs ; pray excufe us. They have it home.
Lance. Come 4% kt it work. Good even, gentlemen !
[Exeunt Uncle and Lance.
Fount. 'Tis true, he is a knave ; I ever thought it.
Hare. And we are fools, tame fools !
Eel. Come, let's go feek him. He mall be hang'd before he colt us bafely. [Exeunt.
** Good on gentlemen.] Foimer edit. Amended by Mr. Theobald and Mr. Symplon. Seivard.
Pointed in the following manner by Mr. Sevvard, Come, let it tuorJt good even gentlemen.
Enter
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 345
Enter Ifabella and Luce.
Ifab. Art fure fhe loves him ?
Luce. Am I fure I live ? And I have clapt.on fuch a commendation On yonr revenge— —
Ifab. Faith, he's a pretty gentleman.
Luce. Handfome enough, and that her eye has found out.
Ifab. He talks the beft, they fay, and yet the 'maddeft!
Luce. H' has the right way.
Ifab. How is fhe ?
Luce. Bears it well,
As if me car'd not ; but a man may fee, With half an eye, through all her forc'd behaviours, And find who is her Valentine.
Ifak. Come, let's go fee her ; J long to perfecute 4J.
Luce. By no means, miftrefs ; Let her take better hold firft.
Ifab. I could burft now ! [Exeunt.
Enter Valentine^ Fountain, Bellamore, and Harebraln. Val. Upbraid me with your benefits, you pilchers **, You fhotten-foul'd 4S, ilight fellows ! Was't not I That undertook you firft 'from empty barrels, And brought thofe barking mouths, that gap'd like
bung-holes,
To utter fenfe ? Where got you underftanding ? Who taught you manners and apt carriage, To rank yourfelves ? Who fil'd you in fit taverns ^ ?
43 Toprofecute.j Corrected by Mr. Seward.
4* You piichers.] « PUcbert fays Warburton, we ihould r&Apibbe, which fignifies a chke,Qt coat of Jkins, meaning \hz fcabbard? This is confirmed by Junius, who renders pilly a garment of Jkins, pylice Sax. pellice Fr. pellida Ital. pellis Lat. R.
+s You Jhotten, fold.] Correded by Mr. Theobald.
46 Tonxkjourfelws? who fil'd you, dfff.] Rank ixdfile.
Were
•346 WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
Were thofe born with your worfhips ? When you came
hither,
What brought you from the univerfities Of moment matter to allow you, Jkfides your fmall-beer fentences 47>— — . Bel: 'Tis well, Sir.
Vol. Long cloaks, with two-hand rapiers, Boot-hofes, With penny-pofies **,
And twenty fools' opinions ? who look'd on you, But piping kites, that knew you would be prizes 4% And 'prentices in Paul's Church-yard, that fcentec} Your want of Breton's books 5° ?
47 Small bare /ententes.] Corrected by Theobald and Sympfon.
*5 With penny -pofes.'} I think it very probable that fome words arc loft here, that would have had more relation to penny-pofes than what pow precedes them, and have completed the verfe. Seivard.
We fee no occafion to fuppofe words loft ; but think the words fhould be fpoken ludicroufly, in mockery of the mottoes to garters, &c. ' Boot-hofes, ' With penny -pofiesP
4-9 But piping rites that knew you would le prizing.] Kites is a term for (harpers, as in the firft page of this play,
Maintaining hofpitals'fsr kites and curs.
That this therefore is the true reading here I cannot doubt, for the epithet piping exprefles the noife which the kite makes in feeking his prey, and cannot, 1 believe, be joined to any Other word with pro priety. Both Mr. Sympfon and Mr. Theobald conjectured, wights^ but gave it up. fhe change of the laft word is equally neceffary to |he fenfe. Seward.
5° Britain's looks.] This was a voluminous writer fneer'd by feve- ral wits of our Authors' age. The initial letters of his name were mentioned in the Scornful Lady, p. 324. And Mr. Theobald there calls him Brougbton, quoting Ben Jonfon's Alchymift. But Mr. Sympfon has found him mentioned by Broome in his Merry Beggars, where he is call'd Britain ; and by Sir John Suckling in his Goblins, by the name of Briton : And as they all agree in character, there can be no doubt of their meaning the fame perfon. One may collect from them that his works were full of formal highrflown compliments, and are therefore very properly apply 'd here. Seward.
His name was Nicholas Breton, and he appears to have been a yery voluminous writer, during a long period ; we have feen publi cations by him from the year 1582 to 1621, and poffibly there may be found fome before and after thofe years. It is unneceflary to men tion
WIT WITHOUT MONEY, 347
Enter Widow and Luce.
Fount. This cannot fave you.
Vol. Taunt my integrity, you whelps ?
Eel. You may talk *jhe ftock we gave you out ; but, fee, no further !
Hare. You tempt our patience ! We have found you
out,
And what your truft comes to ; you are well feather'd, Thank us ; and think now of an honeft courfe, 'Tis time ; men now begin to look, and narrowly, Jnto your tumbling tricks \ they're ftale,
Wid. Is not that he ?
Luce. 'Tis he.
Wid. Be ftill, and mark him.
Vol. How miferable
Will thefe poor wretches be, when I forfake 'em ! But, things have their necefiities. I'm forry ! To what a vomit mufl they turn again now ! To their own dear dunghill breeding ! Never hope, After I caft you off, you men of motley, You moft undone things, below pity, any That has a foul and fixpence dares relieve you ; My name mall bar that blefling. There's your cloak, Sir ; keep it clofe to you •, it may yet preferve you A fortnight longer from the fool ! Your hat \ tray be cover'd !
And there's the fattin that your worfhip fent me, Will ferve you at a fizes yet.
tion the particular works of an author, who feems to have been held in no eftimation by his cotemporaries ; but we cannot avoid taking notice of one piece, merely on account of fome verfes prefixed to it, figned with the initial letters W. S. It has the following punning title: ' The Wil of Wit, Wit's Will, or Wil's Wit, Chufe you
* Whether ; containing five Difcourfes, the Effects whereof follow ;
* Reade and Judge. Newly corrected and amended, being the fift
* time imprinted. Compiled by Nicholas Breton, Gentleman. 1606.* ;4to. We know no writer of that time to whom the above initials will apply, except our great dramatic writer Shakefpeare. To an other pamphlet of Breton's, Ben Jonfon hath prefixed commendatory yerfes, which are not inferted in the laft, or any other edition of jus Works. R.
Fount*
348 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Fount. Nay, faith, Sir, You may e'en rub thefe out now.
VaL No fuch relick,
Nor the lead rag of fuch a fordid weaknefs, Shall keep me warm. Thefe breeches are mine own, Purchas'd, and paid for, without your compafiion, And Chriftian breeches, founded in Black-Friars, And fo I will maintain 'em.
Hare. So they feem, Sir.
Vol. Only the thirteen millings in thefe breeches. And the odd groat, 1 take it, mall be yours, Sir 5 A mark to know a knave by ; pray preferve it. Do not difpleafe me more, but take it prefently \ Now, help me off with my boots !
Hare. We're no grooms, Sir.
VaL For .once you mall .be -, do it willingly, Or by this hand I'll make you.
Bel. To our own, Sir, We may apply our hands.
Vol. There's your hangers ; You may deferve a ftrong pair, and a girdle Will hold you without buckles. Now I'm perfecl -9 And now the proudeft of your worfhips tell me, I am beholden to you.
Fount. No fuch matter !
VaL And take heed how you pity me •, ?tis dangerous? Exceeding dangerous, to prate of pity. Which are the poorer, you or I, now, puppies S1 ? I without you, or you without my knowledge ? Be rogues, and fo be gone ! Be rogues, and reply not j For, if you do
Bel. Only thus much, and then we'll leave you : The air is far fharper than our anger, Sir, And thefe you may referve to rail in warmer.
51 Poorer, ye are woov 'puppie s ?"] Here the fenfe and meafure have equally fuffered. How flat is it meerly to call them puppies ? He had called them whelps, and worfe names before. J fent my emenda tion to Mr. Theobald, and find it in his margin. Mr. Sympfon too Jays that he hit upon the fame. Seward.
Hare.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 349
Hare. Pray have a care, Sir, of your health !
[Exeunt Lovers.
Val. Yes, hog-hounds, more than you can have of
your wits !
'Tis cold, and I am very fenfible; extremely coldtoo^ Yet I'll not off, 'till 1 have fhamM thefe rafcals. I have endur'd as ill heats as another, And every way5*, if one could perifh, my body — — • You'll bear the blame on't ! I am colder here 5J; Not a poor penny left !
Enter Uncle, with a bag.
Unc. 'T has taken rarely ; And, now he's flead, he will be rul'd.
Lance. To him, tew him, Abufe him, and nip him clofe.
Unc. Why, how now, coufm ? Sunning yourfelf this weather ?
VaL As you fee, Sir ; In a hot fit, I thank my friends.
Unc. But, coulin,
Where are your clothes, man ? thofe are no inheritance ; Your fcruple may compound with thofe I take it -9 This is no fafhion, coufm.
Val. Not much follow'd,
5* And every way if one could perijb tny body, you II bear the blame c»V.] Here both fenfe and meafure feem entirely loft, nor can I re- ftore either without taking liberties, which I doubt will be thought unwarrantable. I have given the only tolerable fenfe which I could pick out of the wreck that is left ; but am far from impofing my addi tions as the genuine text. Seivard.
Mr. Seward reads,
And almoil: every way that one can perijb ;
My body, you? II bear cold, but they the blame on't.
This palTage is difficult, yet the additions of Mr. Seward are in deed unwarrantable. Our regulation of the points, we apprehend, makes fenfe of the old reading, according to which Valentine means, ' I have endured as violent heats as any man, and could endure any ' extremity — but you'll bear the blame, you hoghoilnds, &c.' mean ing the Lovers.
, ^ I am colder here.] Meaning his pockets.
I muft
350 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
I muft confefs ; yet, Uncle, I determine To try what may be done next term.
Lance. How came you thus, Sir ? for you're ftrangety mew'd 54.
Vol. Rags, toys, and trifles, fit only for thofe fools That firft poflefs'd 'em, and to thofe knaves they're
render'd.
Freemen, Uncle, Ought to appear like innocents, Old Adam, A fair fig-leaf fufficient 5S,
Unc. Take me with you ; Were thefe your friends that clear'd you thus ?
Vol. Hang friends, And even reckonings, that make friends !
Unc. I thought till now,
There had been rio fuch living, no fuch purchafe, (For all the reft is labour) as a lift Of honourable friends. Do not fuch men as you, Sir, In lieu of all your underftandings, travels, And thofe great gifts of nature, aim at more Than cafting off your coats ? I'm ftrangely cozen'd !
Lance. Should not the town make at the cold you
feel now,
And all the gentry fuffer interdiction ; No more fenle fpoken, all things 6oth and Vandal^ *Till you be fumm'd again, velvets and fcarlets,
5* Strangely mov'd.] Mr. Theobald fays in his margin is a term in falconry for Jhtdding of feathers \ it is derived from muer to change, and is a very juft emendation. The word fummd below, is another term in falconry, and fignifies full-plumed, hot" proper to Lance, who is a falconer as well as tenant. Seward.
55 And to thofe knaves, they are rendred freemen Vncle, ought appeare like innocents, old Adam, a fair e Jigge- leaf e fufficient. ~\ Here^ I believe, fomething is loft that would probable have filled up both fenfe and meafure. Seward.
Mr. Seward reads,
All freemen, Uncle, ought ? appear, &fr. We believe this gentleman right in his opinion, and that fome wore have been dropped ; but cannot think his interpolation either necef- fary or warrantable.
Anointc
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 351
Anointed with gold lace, and cloth of filver Turn'd into Spaniih cottons for a penance, Wits blafted with your bulls, and taverns wither'd, As though the term lay at St. Albans ?
Val. Gentlemen,
You've fpoken long and level; I'beieech you, Take breath a while, and hear me. You imagine now, by the twirling of your flrino-s, That I am at the laft, as alfo that my friends Are flown like fwallows after fummer ?
Unc. Yes, Sir.
Val. And that I have no more in this poor pannier, To raife me up again above your rents, Uncle ?
Unc. All this I do believe.
Val. You have no mind to better me ?
Unc. Yes, coufm,
And to that end I come, and once more offer you All that my pow'r is matter of.
Val. A match then ; Lay me down fifty pounds there.
Unc. There it is, Sir.
VaL And on it write, that you are pleas'd to give
this,
As due unto my merit, without caution Of land redeeming, tedious thanks, or thrift Hereafter to be hop'd for.
Unc. How ? [Luce lays a fuit and letter at the door.
Val. Without daring,
When you are drunk, to relilh of revilings, To which you're prone in fack, Uncle.
Unc. I thank you, Sir.
Lance. Come, come away, let the young wanton
play awhile ;
Away, I fay, Sir ! Let him go forward with His naked fafhion •, he'll feek you to-morrow. Goodly weather , fultry hot, fultry ! how I fweat !
Unc. Farewell, Sir. [Exeunt Uncle and Lance.
VaL 'Would I fweat too! I'm monftrous vex'd, and cold too >
And
352 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
And thefc are but thin pumps to walk the ftreets in. Clothes I muft get ; this fafhion will not fadge with
me ;
Befides, 'tis an ill winter wear. What art thou ? Yes, they are clothes, and rich ones ; fome fool has
left 'em:
And if I fhould utter — What's this paper here ? ' Let thefe be only worn by the moft noble fc And deferving gentleman Valentine.' Dropt out o' th* clouds ! I think they're full of gold
too !
Well, I'll leave my wonder, and be warm again ; In the next houle I'll fhift.
ACT IV.
Enter Francifco, Uncle and Lance. Fran\\J ttY do you deal thus with him? 'tis y V unnobly.
Unc. Peace, coufin, peace j you are too tender of
him :
He muft be dealt thus with, he muft be cur'd thus. The violence of his difeafe, Francifco, Muft not be jefted with •, 'tis grown infectious, And now ftrong corrofives muft cure him.
Lance. H' has had a ftinger, Has eaten off his clothes ; the next his fkin comes.
Unc. And let it fearch him to the bones •, 'tis better, 'Twill make him feel it.
Lance. Where be his noble friends how ? Will his fantaftical opinions clothe him ? Or the learn'd art of having nothing feed him ?
Unc. It rnuft needs, greedily -, For all his friends have flung him off, he's naked, And where to fkin himfelf again, if 1 know,
Or can devife how he Ihould get himfelf lodging
His
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 353
His fpirit muft be bow'd, and now we have him, Have him at that we hoped for.
Lance. Next time, we meet him Cracking of nuts, with half a cloak about him, (For all means are cut off) or borrowing fix-pence, To mew his bounty in the pottage ordinary.
Fran. Which way went he ?
Lance. Pox, why mould you afk after him ? You have been trimm'd already -, let him take his
fortune : He fpun it out himfelf, Sir •, there's no pity,
Unc. Beiides, fome good to you now, from this mifery.
Fran. I rife upon his ruins ! Fy, fy, Uncle, Fy, honefl Lance ! Thofe gentlemen were bale people, That could fo foon take fire to his deftr notion.
Unc. You are a fool, you are a fool, a young man !
Enter Valentine.
Vol. Morrow, Uncle ! morrow Frank, fweet Frank ! And how, and how d'ye think now ? how mew matters ? Morrow, Bandog !
Unc. How ?
Fran. Is this man naked, \ Forfaken of his friends ?
Vol. Thou'rt handfome, J^ank, A pretty gentleman •, i'faith, thou lookeft well ; And yet here may be thofe that look as handfome.
Lance. Sure he can conjun;,-and has the devil for his tailor.
Unc . New and rich ! 'Tis mod impoffible he mould recover.
Lance. Give him this luck, and fling him into the fea.
Unc. 'Tis not he •, Imagination cannot work this miracle.
Val. Yes, yes, 'tis he, I will affure yon, Uncle ^ The very he •, the he your wifdom play'd withal, I thank you for't ; neigh'd at his nakednefs, And made his cold and poverty your paftime.
VOL. II. Z You
354 WIT WITHOUT MONEY. You fee I live, and the beft can do no more, Uncle ; And, tho' I have no ftate, I keep the ftreets flill, And take my pleaiure in the town, like a poor gen tleman ; Wear clothes to keep me warm, poor things, they
ferve me !
Can make a fhow too, if 1 lift; yes, Uncle, And ring a peal in my pockets, ding-dong, Uncle ! Thefe are mad foolim ways, but who can help 'em ?
Unc. I am amaz'd !
Lance. I'll fell my copyhold ; For fmce there are fuch excellent new nothings, Why mould I labour ? Is there no fairy haunts him ? No rat, nor no old woman ?
Une. You are Valentine ?
VaL I think fo, I can't tell, I have been call'd fo, And fome fay chriften'd. Why do you wonder at mey And fwell, as if you had met a ferjeant failing r Did you -ever know deiert want ? You are fools ! A little ftoop there may be to allay him, (He'd grow too rank elfe) a fmall eclipfe to fhadow
him ;
But out he muft break, glowingly again, And with a great luftre, look you, Uncle, Motion and majefty.
Unc. I am confounded !
Fran. I'm of his faith.
VaL Walk by his carelefs kinfman, And turn again, and walk, and look thus, Uncle, Taking fome one by the hand he loves belt. Leave them to the mercy of the hog-market ! Come,.
Frank, Fortune is now my friend •, let me inftrucl: thee.
Fran. Good morrow, Uncle ! I rnuft needs go \vith him.
VaL Flay me, and turn me out where none inhabits,; Within two hours I mail be thus again. Now wonder on, and laugh at your own ignorance !
[Exs. Pal, and Franl Unc.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 355
Unc. I do believe him.
Lance. So do I, and heartily : Upon my corifcience, bury him ftark naked, He'd rife again, within two hours, embroider'd. Sow muftard- feeds, and they can't come up ib thick As his new fattins do, and cloths of filver : There is no ftriving.
Unc. Let him play a while then, And let's fearch out what hand r-
Lance. Ay, there the game lies, [Exeunf.
Enter Fountain^ Bellamore and Harebrain.
Fount. Come, let's fpeak for ourfelves -} we've lodg'd
him fure enough ; His nakednefs dare not peep out to crofs us.
Bel. We can have no admittance.
Hare. Let's in boldly,
And ufe our bed arts. Who me deigns to favour, We're all content.
Fount. Much good may do her with him ! No civil wars !
Bel. By no means. Now do I Wonder in what old tod * ivy he lies whiflling ; For means nor clothes he hath none, nor none will
truft him ;
We've made that fide fure. We'll teach him a new wooing.
flare. Say, it is his Uncle's fpite ?
Fount. All one, gentlemen •, 5T has rid us of a fair incumbrance, And makes us look about to our own fortunes. Who are thefe ?
Enter Ifabella and Luce.
Ifab. Not fee this man yet ! well, I mall be wifer : But, Luce, didft ever know a woman melt fo ? She's finely hurt to hunt.
Luce. Peace-, the three fuitors !
.e. Buftv, thick.
Z 2 Ifab,
356 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Ifab. I could fo titter now and laugh : c I was loft,
c Luce 56,
4 And I muft love, I know not what !' Oh, Cupid, What pretty gins thou haft to halter woodcocks ! 1 And we muft into th' country in all hafte, Luce.*
\Laughing.
Luce. For Heaven's fake, miftrefs
Ifab. Nay, I've done ; I muft laugh though •, but, fcholar, I (hall teach you !
Fount; 'Tis her fifter.
Eel. Save you, ladies !
Ifab. Fair met, gentlemen ! You're vifiting my fifter, I allure myfelf.
Hare. We would fain blefs our eyes.
Ifab. Behold, and welcome. You'd fee her ?
Fount. 'Tis our bufmefs.
Ifab. You {hall fee her, And you fhall talk with her.
Luce. She will not fee 'em, Nor fpend a word.
Ifab. I'll make her fret a thoufand ; Nay, now I've found the fcab, I will fo fcratch her ?
Luce. She can't endure 'em.
Ifab. She loves 'em but too dearly. Come, follow me, I'll bring you to the party •, Then make your own conditions, gentlemen.
Luce. She's fick, you know.
Ifab. I'll make her well, or kill her. — And take no idle anfwer, you are fools then ; Nor ftand off for her ftate, lhe'11 fcorn you all then: But urge her ftill, and, tho' me fret, ftill follow her A widow muft be won fo.
Eel. She fpeaks bravely.
Ifab. I would fain have a brother-in-law ; I
mens' company. And if me call for dinner, to avoid you,,
*6. 1 was lojl, Lucf, £rV.] Thefe words arc meant at whit the Widow had iaid of her.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 357
Be fure you flay ; follow her into her chamber •, If fhe retire to pray, pray with her, and boldly, Like honeft lovers.
Luce. This will kill her.
Fount. You've fhew'd us one way, do but lead the other.
Ifab. I know you (land o* thorns j come, I'll difpatch you.
Luce. If you live after this 57
Ifab. I've loft my aim. [Exeunt.
Enter Valentine and Francifco.
Fran. Did you not fee 'em fince ?
VaL No, hang 'em, hang 'em !
Fran. Nor will you not be feen by 'em ?
Val. Let 'em alone, Frank ; I'll make sem their own juftice, and a jerker.
Fran. Such bafe difcourteous dog-whelps !
VaL I ftiail dog 'em, And double dog 'em, ere I've done.
Fran. Will you go with me ? For I would fain find out this piece of bounty. It was the Widow's man, that I am certain of.
Val. To what end would you go ?
Fran. To give thanks, Sir.
VaL Hang giving thanks ; haft not thou parts de-
ferve it ?
It includes a further will to be beholden •, Beggars can do no more at doors. If you Will go, there lies your way.
Fran. I hope you'll go.
VaL No, not in ceremony, and to a woman, With mine own father, were he living, Frank j I would to thf court with bears firft. If it be That wench I think it is (for t'other's wifer) I would not be fo look'd upon, and laugh'd at,
57 If you live after this — ] We fuppofe Luce to be here addreiT- ing herfelf, in idea, to the Widow. She has before faid, this pro ject would kilr her. And the fucceeding fliort fpeech of Ifabella warrants, if not confirms, this explanation.
z3 So
358 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
So made a ladder for her wit to climb upon, (For 'tis the tarteft tit in Chriflendom •, I know her well, Frank, and have buckled with her) So lick'd, and ftroak'd, flear'd upon, and flouted, And fhewn to chambermaids, like a ftrange beaft She had purchas'd with her penny !
Fran. You're a ftrange man ! But do you think it was a woman ?
Val. There's no doubt on't ; Who can be there to do it elfe ? Befides, The manner of the circumftances
Fran. Then, fuch courteftes, Whoever does 'em, Sir, faving your own wifdom, Mult be more look'd into, and better anfwer'd, Than with deferving flights, or what we ought To have conferr'd upon us •, men may ftarve elfe : Means are not gotten now with crying out, ' I am a gallant fellow, a good foldier, 6 A man of learning, or fit to be employ 'd !' Immediate bleffings ceafe like miracles, And we muft grow by fecond means. I pray, go with me; Even as you love me, Sir.
Val. I'll come to thee;
But, Frank, I will not ftay to hear your fopp'ries •, Difpatch thofe ere I corne.
Fran. You will not fail me ?
Val. Some two hours hence, e£pe6t me.
Fran. I thank you, And will look for you. [Exeunt.
Enter Widow ^ Shorthofe^ Roger, and federal other Servants.
Wid. Who let me in thefe puppies ? You blind
rafcals 58, You drunken knaves !
Short. Yes, forfooth, I'll let 'em in prefently. Gentlemen !
58 Who let me in thefe puppies, you blind rafcals > you drunken knaves feveral.] So the firft quarto. Mr. Seward,
Who let in thefe puppies ?
You feveral blind rafcals* drunken knaves.
We apprehend the VJQ\& feveral to have been a marginal diredion for the appearance of feveral fervants in this place.
Wid.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 359
Wid. 'Sprecious, you blown pudding, you bawling
rogue ! Short. I bawl as loud as I can. Would you have
me fetch 'em Upon my back ?
Wid. Get 'em out, rafcal, out with 'em, out ! , I fweat to have 'em near me. Short. I mould fweat more To carry 'em out.
Rog. They are gentlemen, madam.
Short. Shall we get 'em into ths buttery, and make
'em drink ? Wid. Do any thing, fo I be eas'd.
Enter Ifabella^ Fountain^ Bellamore, and Harebrain.
Ifab. Now to her, Sir ; fear nothing.
Rog. Slip afide, boy •,
I know me loves 'em, howfoe'er me carries it, And has invited 'em ; my young miftrefs told rne fo.
Short. Away to tables then. [Exe. Servants.
Ifab. I mall burft with the fport on't.
Fount, You are too curious, madam, Too full of preparation •, we expect it not.
Bel. Methinks the houfe is handfome, ev'ry place
decent ; What need you be fo vex'd ?
Hare. We are no ftrangers,
Fount. What tho' we come ere you expected us, Do not we know your entertainments, madam, Are free and full at all times ?
Wid. You are merry, gentlemen.
Eel. We come to be merry, madam, and very merry, Come to laugh heartily S9, and, now and then, lady,
*9 We come to be merry, madam, and very merry, 'me live to laugh heartily.'] Firft quarto. Second, MEN LOVE to laugh heartily.'] Mr. Seward reads,
We come to ft merry, ma dam , very merry, Love to laugh heartily, &C.
We have taken a greater liberty here than is ufual with us, but no Kiore than icems abfolutely neceflary.
Z 4 A little
36o WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
A little of our old plea.
Wid. I am bufy, And very bufy too. Will none deliver me ?
Hare. There is a time for all ; you may be bufy, But when your friends come, you've as much pow'r, madam
Wid. This is a tedious torment.
Fount. How handfomely This title-piece60 of anger fhews upon her ! Well, madam, well, you know not how to grace yourfelf6'. '
Eel Nay, every thing fhedoes breeds anew fweetnefs.
Wid. I muftgo up, I mnft go up ; I have a bufmefs Waits upon me. Some wine for the gentlemen !
Hare. Nay, we'll go with you ; we ne'er faw your chambers yet.
Ifab. Hold there, boys !
Wid, Say I go to my prayers ?
Fount. We'll pray with you, and help your medi tations.
Wid. This is boiflerous -, or, fay I go to fleep, Will you go to fleep with me ?
Bel. So fuddeniy before meat will be dangerous. » We know your dinner's ready, lady ; you'll not fleep.
Wid, Give me my coach, I'll take the air.
Hare. We'll wait on you, And then your meat, after a quick'ned ftomach.
Wid. Let it alone ; and call my ileward to me, And bid him bring his reckonings into the orchard. Thefe unmannerly rude puppies ! [Exit Widow.
Fount. We'll walk after you, And view the pleafure of the place.
0 Title- piece.] iQuafi, frontifoece.} So the firft edition j all the others read, LITTLE piece of anger.
61 You kntt^w not honv to grace yourfelf ,] As the negative Teems to hurt both fenfe and meafure, I have expung'd it. Seward.
The negative fhould be retained ; it is ironical. So the Nurfe of Juliet : ' You, know not how to chufe a man !' meaning Ihe does know, having chofen Romeo.
Ifab.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 36!
Ifab. Let her not reft,
For, if you give her breath, flie'll fcorn and flout you ; Seem how me will, this is the way to win her. Be bold, and profper !
Bel. Nay, if we do not tire her ! [Exeunt Lovers.
Ifab. I'll teach you to worm me, good lady filter, And peep into my privacies, to fulpedt me ; I'll torture you, with that you hate, moil daintily, And, when ?ye done that, laugh at that you love moil.
Enter Luce.
Luce. What have you done ? me chafes and fumes
outrageou fly, And ftill they perfecute her.
Ifab. Long may they do fo ! I'll teach her to declaim againfl my pities. Why is fhe not gone out oj th' town, but gives occafion For men to run mad after her ?
Luce. I ihall be hang'd.
Ifab. This in me had been high-treafon j Three at a time, and private in her orchard ! J hope fhe'll call her reckonings right now.
Enter Widow.
Wid. Well, I fhall find who brought 5em.
Jfab. Ha, ha, ha !
Wid. Why do. you laugh, filler ? I fear me 'tis your trick ; 'twas neatly done of you, And well becomes your pleafure.
Ifab. What have you done with 'em ?
Wid. Lock'd 'em Is th' orchard; there I'll make 'em
dance,
And caper too, before they get their liberty. Unmannerly rude puppies !
Ifab. They are fomewhat faucy ; — But yet Pll let'em out, and once more hound 'em. — Why were they not beaten out ?
Wid. I was about it ;
But, becaufe they came as fuitors •
Ifab.
362 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Ifab. Why did you not anfwer 'em ? Wid. They are fo impudent they will receive none. More yet ! How came thefe in ?
Enter Francifco and Lance.
Lance. At the door, madam.
Ifab. It is that face ! \_Afide.
Luce. This is the gentleman.
Wid. She fent the money to ?
Luce. The fame. , Ifab. I'll leave you -, They have fome bufinefs.
Wid. Nay, you fhall flay, lifter ; They're ft rangers both to me. How her face alters !
Ifab. I'm lorry he comes now.
Wid. I am glad he is here now though. Who would you fpeak with, gentlemen ?
Lance. You, lady,
Or your fair fifter there ; here is a gentleman That has receiv'd a benefit.
Wid. From whom, Sir ?
Lance. From one of you, as he fuppofes, madam ; Your man deliver' d it.
Wid. I pray go forward.
Lance. And of fo great a goodnefs that he dares not, Without the tender of his thanks and fervice, Pafs by the houfe.
Wid. Which is the gentleman ?
Lance. This, madam.
Wid. What's your name, Sir ?
Fran. They that know me Call me Francifco, lady ; one not fo proud To fcorn fo timely a benefit, nor fo wretched To hide a gratitude.
Wid. It is well beftow'd then.
Fran. Your fair felf, or your fifter, as it feems, For what defert I dare not know, unlefs A handfome fubject for your charities, Qr aptnefs in your noble wills to do it,
Havq
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 363
Have fhow'r'd upon my wants a timely bounty, Which makes me rich in thanks, my beft inheritance.
Wtd. I'm forry 'twas not mine ; this is the gen tlewoman.
Fy, do not blufh ; go roundly to the matter ; The man's a pretty man.
Ifab. You have three fine ones.
Fran. Then to you, dear lady
Ifab. I pray no more, Sir, if I may perfuade you ; Your only aptnefs to do this is recompence, And more than I expected.
Fran. But, good lady
Ifab. And for me further to be acquainted with it, Beiides the imputation of vainglory, Were greedy thankings of myielf. I did it Not to be more affected to •, I did it ; And if it happen'd where 1 thought it fitted, I have my end : More to enqure is curious In either of us ; more than that, fufpicious.
Fran. But, gentle lady, 'twill be necefiary
Ifab. About the right way nothing ; do not fright it, Being to pious ufe and tender- fighted, With the blown face of compliments -, it blafts it. Had you not come at all, but thought thanks, It had been too much. 'Twas not to fee your perfon —
Wid. A brave diffembling rogue ! And how me carries it !
Ifab. Tho' I believe few handfomer ; or hear you, Tho' I affect a good tongue well ; or try you, Tho5 my years defire a friend -, that I reliev'd you.
Wid. A plaguy cunning quean !
Ifab. For, fo I carried it,
My end's too glorious in mine eyes, and barter'd The goodnefs I propounded with opinion62.
Wid.
6' And better'd the goodnefi.~\ This fentence has ibmething dark in it, which I ciannot clear up : She would feem to fay, that ihe intended to enhance the goodnefs of her action by concealment. Seivard.
The meaning of the whole {peech (which is indeed obfcure) feems to be this : ' So I carried my point, the end obtained was a fuffi-
* dent
364. WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Wid. Fear her not, Sir.
Ifab. You cannot catch me, filler.
Fran. Will you both teach, and tie my tongue up, lady ?
Ifab. Let it fufHce you have it ^ it was never mine, W hi 1ft good men wanted it.
Lance. This is a faint, fure !
Ifab. And if you be not fuch a one 6j, reftore it.
Fran. To commend myfelf,
Were more officious than you think my thanks are ; To doubt I may be worth your gift a treafon, Both to mine own good and underflanding64. I know my mind clear, and though modefly Tells me, he that entreats intrudes, Yet I muft think fomething, and of fome feafon, Met with your better tafte ; this had not been elfe.
Wid. What ward for that, wench ?
Ifab. Alas, it never touch'd me.
Fran. Well, gentle lady, yours is the firft money ' I ever took upon a forc'd ill manners !
Ifab. The laft of me, if ever you ufe other.
Fran. How may I do, and your way, to be thought A grateful taker ?
Ifab. Spend it, and fay nothing -, Your modefly may defer ve more.
Wid. Oh, fifter,
* clent reward, and which I was happy to receive in exchange for the
* mere reputation of having effected it.' Bartered is the old word, (which Mr. Seward does not feem to have known) and the right. So {he fays afterwards, ' I did it, that my heft friend fhould not know it.'
6> Suck a one.'] i. e. A good man. ,
64 To mine oivn go&d and under ft anding.~\ Here again the meafure apd fenfe were equally hurt. It is by no means conlonant to the mo- defty of Francifco to commend his own underilanding, when it was not called in queftion ; but to fay that he would not doubt his own me rit, fmce one of fo good an underitandinghaddiitinguihYd it, this is in character. Mr. Sympfon had made this addition before I fent it him.
Senuard.
Thefe gentlemen read,
Both to mine oiun good, and to your under ft anding. . But we cannot think their addition by any means necefTary.
Will
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 365
Will you bar thankfulnefs ?
Ifab. Dogs dance for meat ;
Would you have men do worfe ? For they cap fpeak, Cry out like woodmongers, good deeds by th* hun dreds !
I did it, that my beft friend (hould not know it ; Wine and vainglory do as much as I elfe. If you will force my merit, againfl my meaning, Ufe it in well bellowing it, in fhewing It came to be a benefit, and was fo ; And not examining a woman did it, Or to what end •, in not believing fometimes Yourfelf, when drink and ftirring converfation May ripen ftrange perfuafions.
Fran. Gentle -lady, I were a bafe receiver of a courtefy, And you a worfe difpofer, were my nature Unfurnim'd of thefe forefights. Ladies' honours Were ever, in my thoughts, unfpotted ermines 6s ; Their good deeds holy temples, where the incenfe Burns not to common eyes : Your fears are virtuous, And fo I mall preferve 'em.
Ifab. Keep but this way,
And from this place, to tell me fo, you've paid me. And fo I wifh you fee all fortune ! [Exit.
Wid. Fear not •,
The woman will be thank'd, I do not doubt it.
Are you fo crafty, carry it fo precifely ?
65 Unfpotted crimes.] My conje&ure in this place was Jhrines, but Mr. Theobald has, I doubt not, hit upon the true word ; for befidea its propriety to the epithet, he has proved it by a parallel paffage of our poets. Monfieur Thomas, a£l iv. fcene i.
O that konefty
'Ihat ermine honefty, unfyotted ever.
'Till £ faw this, I was fully fatisfied with my own emendation, which I now condemn, and mention it only to (hew, how little dependence one ought to have upon the moft plaufible conjecture ; and that to be pofitive and dogmatical, does not become a verbal critick. Mr. Sympfon read with mefennss, but entirely agreed in the preference of e> mines. &e<ward.
This
366 WIT WITHOUT MONEY,
This is to wake my fears, not to abufe me 66 ; I mall look narrowly \_Afide. ] — Defpair not, gentle men ;
There is an hour to catch a woman in, If you be wife. So, I muft leave you too. Now will I go laugh at my fuitors. [Exif.
Lance. Sir, what courage ?
Fran. This woman is a founder67, and cites flatutes To all her benefits.
Lance. I ne'er knew yet So few years and fo cunning : Yet, believe me,
She has an itch ± but how to make her confefs it
For it is a crafty tit, and plays about you,
Will not bite home ; me would fain, but fhe dares
not. , \£;
Carry yourfelf but fo difcretely, Sir, That want or wantonnefs ieem not to fearch you, And you ihall fee her open.
Fran. I do love her,
And, were I rich, would give two thoufand pound, To wed her wit but one hour : Oh, 'tis a dragon 63,
66 Or to abufe me.] This reading feems wrong, could Ifabella carry it fo precifely on purpofe to make her fiiler more watchful of her? The flight change I have made gives this fenfe ; your beha viour which was intended to lull my fears afleep, mall not fo abufe me, but make me more vigilant. Mr. Sympfon does not admit this, but would read,
Is this to ivake my fears, or to abufe me? But how could (he afk fo abfurd a queftion ? Seward.
6~ A founder and cites Jlatittes.'} This is fomewhat obfcure, but I believe the meaning is, this woman is a founder or builder up of my fortunes, and like the founder of a college has no other motive than ihejtatutes or commands of Heaven to be charitable. Or perhaps, fhe is a founder of my fortunes, and mentions Jlatutes to me which Ihe expefts me to conform to. Founder is ufed in the fame fenfe in the Captain, aft i. fcene iii.
imagine me
A founder of old fellows ! Seivard.
Mr. Sewatd's fecond interpretation feems to be the true one.
63 'Tis a dragon.~\ Mr. Seward -s^t^^ dragon to paragon ; but dragon js clearly right. Francifco is talking of his miltrelVs vivacity t her ivity %\\&fprigbtlinefs. Paragon is iliff here.
And
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 367
And fuch a fprightly way of pleafure ! ha, Lance ? Lance. Your ' ha, Lance5 broken once, you'd cry,
c ho, ho, Lance !' Fran. Some leaden landed rogue will have this
wench now,
When all's done ; fome fuch youth will carry her, And wear her greafy out like fluff; fome dunce, That knows no more but markets, and admires
nothing But a long charge at fizes. Oh, the fortunes !
Enter Ifabella and Luce.
Lance. Comfort yourfelf.
Luce. They are here yet, and alone too ;
Boldly upon't ! Nay, miilrefs, I ftill told you,
How you would find your truft ; this 'tis to venture Your charity upon a boy.
Lance. Now, what's the matter ? Stand fad, and like yourfelf.
Ifab. Prithee, no more, wench.
Luce. What was his want to you ?
Ifab. 'Tis true.
Luce. Ormifery?
Or, fay he had been i' th' cage, was there no mercy To look abroad but yours ?
Ifab. I am paid for fooling.
Luce. Mull every flight companion that can pnrchafe A mew of poverty, and beggarly planet 69,
Fall
69 Ajhevu of poverty and beggarly planet. J A fhew. of a beggarly planet, does not look like a genuine exprelfion ; the word plautt, indeed, or wanderer •, feems proper in the place, and if it be pieferved, we fhould I think, read,
AJhe<w of poverty, each beggarly planet, Fall under your compaffion ?
The verfe runs better, as I have put it in the text, but the reader will pleafe to take his choice. Mr. Sympfon does not admit either of theie conjcclures, but would read,
A ' Jhew of poverty and beggarly plaint.
But a (hew of a beggarly plaint Teems as harfn to me as the old reading.
J. Mr.
36S WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Fall under your companion ?
Lance. Here's new matter.
Luce. Nay, you are ferv'd but too welh Here he
flays yet, Yet, as I live !
Fran. How her face alters on me !
Luce. Out of a confidence, I hope.
I fab. I'm glad on't.
Fran. How do you, gentle lady ?
Ifab. Much afham'd, Sir,
(But firft (land further off me-, you're infectious) To find fuch vanity, nay, almoft impudence, Where I believ'd a worth. Is this your thanks, The gratitude you were fo rnad to make me, Your trim council, gentlemen ? [Producing a ring.
Lance. What, lady ?
Ifab. Take your device again, it will not ferve, Sir ; The woman will not bite, you're finely cozen'd ! Drop it no more, for fhame !
Luce. Do you think you're here, Sir, Amongft your waft-coateers, your bafe wenches That fcratch at fuch occafions ? You're deluded : This is a gentlewoman of a noble houfe, Born to a better fame than you can build her, And eyes above your pitch 7°.
Fran. I do acknowledge
Ifab. Then I befeech you, Sir, what could you fee, (Speak boldly, and fpeak truly, mame the devil !) In my behaviour, of fuch eaflnefs, That you durft venture to do this ?
Mr. Sevvard reads,
AJhe<w of poverty and beggary
Fall under your compaj/ton ?
Inferting a comma after poverty makes the fenfe clear, the word e<very being underltood as if repeated before planet : * Every flight compa nion, and every beggarly planet.1
7° ^Weyes above your pitch.] In the edition of 1750, the word tyes appears as a fubftantive. It is certainly a verb, and Luce's mean ing is, ' She looks higher, or for a better match, than you.'
Fran.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 369
Fran. You amaze me ; This ring is none of mine, nor did I drop it. Luce. I faw you drop it, Sir. Ifab. I took it up too,
Still looking when your modefly mould mifs it : Why, what a childim part was this !
Fran. I vow
. , Ifab. Vow me no vows ! He that dares do this, Has bred himfelf to boldnefs to forfwear too. There,take your gewgaw ! You are too much pamper'd, And I repent my part. As you grow older, Grow wifer, if you can ; and fo farewell, Sir !
[Exeunt Ifabella and Luce. Lanct. ' Grow wifer, if you can !' She has put it
to you.
'Tis a rich ring ; did you drop it ? . Fran. Never ; Ne'er law it afore, Lance.
Lance. Thereby hangs a tail then. What flight me makes to catch herfelf ! Look up, Sir ; You cannot lofe her, if you would. How daintily She flies upon the lure, and cunningly She makes her (lops71 ! Whiftle,and me'll come to you. Fran. I would I were fo happy. Lance. Maids are clocks :
The greateft wheel, they mew, goes flowed to us, And makes us hang on tedious hopes ; the lefler, Which are conceal'd, being often oiPd with wifhes, Flee like defires, and never leave that motion, Till the tongue ftrikes. Sheisflefh, blood, and marrowy Young as her purpofe, and as foft as pity ; No monument to worlhip, but a mould, To make men in, a neat one; and I know, Howe'er fhe appears now, which is near enough, You are ftark blind if you hit not foon. Ar night, She would venture forty pounds more, but to feel A flea in your fhape bite her ! ' Drop no more rings,' forfooth!'
'* Stops!} Mr. Sympfon thinks it (hould bejtosps. Se<war<t.
VOL. II. A a This
370 WlT WITHOUT MONEY.
This was the prettieft thing to know her heart by if
Fran. Thou put'ft me in much comfort.
Lance. Put yourfelf in'
Good comfort I If (he do not point you out the way—** ' Drop no more rings !' fhe'1! drop herfelf into you.
Fran. I wonder my brother comes not.
Lance. Let him alone,
And feed yourfelf on your own fortunes. Come, be * » : frolick,
And let's be monftrous wife, and full" of counfel. * Drop no more rings !f [Exeunt,
Enter Widow, Fountain, Eettamore, and Harebrain.
Wid. If you will needs be fooliih, you muft be
us'd fo^.
Who ferit for you ? who entertain'd you, gentlemen f \ Who bid you welcome hither ? You came crouding,' And, impudently bold, prefs on my patience, As if I kept a houfe for all companions, And of all forts. Will you have your wills, will you'
vex me, And force my liking from you ? I ne'er ow'd *you. I
Fount. For all this, we will dine with you.
Bel. And, for all this, Will have a better anfwer from you.
Wid. You mall never ,
Neither have an anfwer nor a dinner, unlefs you ufe mfe With a more ftaid refpect, and ftay your time too.
Enter Isabella, followed by Shorthofe, Roger, and Ralph, with dijhes of meat.
Ifdb. Forward with the meat now !
Rog. Come, gentlemen, March fairly.
Short. Roger, you are a weak ferving-man ; Your white broth runs from you ! Fy, how I fweatf Under this pile of beef: An elephant Can do more ! Oh, for fuch a back now, And in thefe times, what might a man arrive at !
O-wV.] Quafi,
Goo
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 371
Goofe grafe you up, and woodcock march behind
thee ; I am almoft founder'd !
Wid. Who bid you bring the meat yet ? Away, you knaves ! I will not dine thefe two hours. How am I vex'd and chaf 'd ! Go, carry it back, And tell the cook he is an arrant rafcal, To fend before I call'd !
Short. Faces about 7% gentlemen ; Beat a mournful march then, and give fome fupporters, Or elfe I perilh ! {Exeunt Servants.
Ifab. It does me much good To fee her chafe thus.
Hare. We can ftay, madam, And will flay and dwell here •, 'tis good air.
Fount. I know you have beds enough, And meat you never want^
Wid. You want a little*
Etl. We dare to pretend on Since you are churlifh, We'll give you phyfick ; you muft purge this anger -9 It burns you, and decays you.
Wid. If I had you out once, I would be at charge of a portcullis for you.
Enter Valentine.
Val. Good morrow, noble lady. Wid. Good morrow, Sir.
72 Faces about.'] This expreflion the reader will find explained in the 63d note on the Scornful Lady. The modern editors, not under- ftanding it, and in their rage of correcting, read face about.— The fame rage has induced thofe gentlemen to make feveral flight altera tions, in the courfe of a few lines hereabouts, equally bold, and more
injurious to the fenfe. They make the Widow fay, And flay MY
time too (meaning, aslongaslpleafe) inftead of YOUR time (the month I ha-ve commanded you to be jilent). One of the Lovers de clares, according to them, IV e dare to pretend NO (which can only be understood, IV e deny our wanting meat) inftead of faying, with the old copy, We dare to pretend ON (ewe /hall carry our demands FURTHER. And poor Lance is made moft blunderingly to aflert, when fpeaking of Ifabella, Jit night HE would venture forty pounds more, but to feel a flea in your Jb ape bite HER.
A a 2 How
37* WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
How fweetly now he looks, and how full manly ! What (laves were thofe to ule him fo ! [A/itfe*
VaL I come To look a young man I call brother.
Wid. Such a one
Was here, Sir, as I remember, your own brother ; But gone almoft an hour ago.
VaL Good e'en then !
Wid. You muft not fo foon, Sir ; here be fome gen tlemen ; It may be you're acquainted with 'em.
Hare. Will nothing, make him miferable ?
Fount. How glorious !
Eel. It is the very he ! Does it rain fortunes, Or has he a familiar ?
Hare. How doggedly, he looks too ?
Fount. I am beyond my faith ! Pray, let's be going,
VaL Where are thefe gentlemen ?
Wid. Here.
VaL Yes, I know *emy And will be more familiar.
Bel. Morrow, madam !
Wid. Nay, ftay and dine.
VaL You mall ftay till I talk with you, And not dine neither, but failing fly my fury 7?0- You think you have undone me •, think fo- ftill,> And fwallow that belief : 'Till you be company For court-hand clerks, and ftarv'd attornies \ 'Till you break in at plays, like 'prentices, For three a groat, and crack nuts with the fcholars In penny rooms again, and fight for apples ; 'Till you return to what I found you, people Betray'd into the hands of fencers, challengers, Tooth-drawers, bills, and tedious proclamations • In meal-markets, with throngings to fee cut-purfes —
7* But faftingly My fury."] Mr. Symplon reads, but fafting on nty fury: My firft conjedure was BIDE my fury ; but as fly is neareit the trace of the letters, and feems to me good fenfe, I think it moft probably the original. Mr. Theobald reads, bide* Sevjard.
(Stir
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 373
(Stir not, but hear, and mark -, I'll cut your throats elfe!)
'Till water- works, and rumours of New Rivers,
Ride you again, and run you into queftions
Who built the Thames74; 'till you run mad for lotteries,
And (land there with your tables to glean
The golden fentences, and cite 'em fecretly
To ferving-men for found effays ; 'till taverns
Allow you but a towel-room to tipple in,
Wine that the bell hath gone for twice, and glafles
That look like broken promifes, tied up
With wicker proteflations, Englifh tobacco,
With half-pipes, nor in half a year once burnt, and
bifcuit
That bawds have rubb'd their gums upon like corals, To bring the mark again •, 'till this hour, rafcals 759 (For this moft fatal hour will come again) Think I fit down the lofer !
Wi'L Will you flay, gentlemen'? A piece of beef, and a cold capon, that's all ; You know you're welcome.
Hare. That was cafl to abufe us 76.
Eel. Steal off-, the devil is in his anger !
Wid. Nay, I am fure You will not leave me fo difcourteoufly,
74 Who built Theatrical So the firft quarto : We have, with Mr. Sevvard, folloyved the fecond, only inferring the particle the.
75 Tell this hour rafcals fo, this moft fatal hour will come again.'] Tho' 1 have departed a good deal from the old reading, yet as I have reftored what I think to be the fenfe, and the meafure, I hope it will .be allowed. Seaward.
Mr. Seward's reading is,
'TV// this hour, rafcalsy fhall,
'Till this moft fatal hour JhaH covte again,
Think I Jit down the lofer.
We think this paflage requires afliftance ; but a much lefs violent re medy than Mr. Seward's has, in our opinion, eftablifhed a reading greatly fuperior to his ; the change of foy into for.
7fl Humph. That nvas caft, &c.] All the editions moft eironeoufly ir.ike Humphry, the fervant, fpeak thefe words, whenneithe ijnterefted nor prefent.
A a 3 Now
374 WIT WITHOUT MONEY. Now I've provided for you.
Val. What do ye here ? Why do ye vex a woman of her goodnefs, Her flate, and worth ? Can ye bring a fair certificate That ye delerve to be her footmen ?. Hufbands, ye
puppies ?
Hufbands for whores and bawds ! Away, you wind- fuckers !
Do not look big, nor prate, nor flay, nor grumble $ And, when ye're gone, feem to laugh at my fury, And flight this lady ! I fhaU hear, and know this ; And, though I am not bound to fight for women. As far as they are good, I dare preferve 'em. Be not too bold •, for if you be I'll fwinge you, I'll fwinge you monflroufly, without all pity. Your honours, now go ! avoid me mainly !
[Exeunt Lovers.
Wid. Well, Sir, you have deliver'd me, I thank you, And with your noblenefs prevented danger Their tongues might utter. We'll all go and eat, Sir.
Val. No, no •, I dare not truft myfelf with women. Go to your meat, eat little, take lefs eafe, And tie your body to a daily labour, You may live honeftly ; and fo I thank you ! [Exit.
Wid. Well, go thy ways ; thou art a noble fellow, And feme means I muft work to have thee know it.
[Exit.
ACT V.
Enter Uncle and Merchant. Unc. "\ /TOST certain, 'tis her hand that holds
I
"j\ /T iVJL
up,
And her fitter relieves Frank. Mer. I'm glad to hear it : But wherefore do they not purfue this fortune To fome fair end ?
Unc.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 375
Unc. The women are too crafty, Valentine too coy, and Frank too bafhful. rlad any wife man hold of fuch a bleffing, They'd ilrike it out o' thj flint but they would form it,
Enter Widow and Shorthofe. Mer. The Widow fure ! Why does me ilir fo early ? Wid. 'Tis ftrange, I can't force him to underftand me, And make a benefit of what I'd bring him. fell my fitter, I'll ufe my devotions At home this morning j me may, if ike pleafe, go to
church. Short. Hey ho !
Wid. And do you wait upon her with a torch. Sir. Short. Hey ho ! Wid. You lazy knave ! Short. Here's fuch a tinkle-tanklings, That we can ne'er lie quiet, and lleep our prayers out. 1 Ralph, pray empty my right fhoe, that you made your
chamber-pot, And burn a little rofemary in't ; I muft wait upon
my lady. This morning-prayer has brought me into a con-
fumption \
I have nothing left but flefh and bones about me. Wid. You droufy flave, nothing but deep and
fwilling ! Short. Had you been bitten with bandog-fleas as I
have been, And haunted with the night-mare «•
»Wid. With an ale-pot ! Short. You would have little lift to morning-prayers. Pray, take my fellow Ralph j he has a pfalm-book ; I am an ingrum man 77.
Wid. Get you ready quickly, And, when foe's ready, wait upon her handfomely. No more, be gone !
77 Ingrum .] This is, as we conjedure, a vitiation of ignorant, fimilar to Dogberry's vagrom for vagrant.
A a 4 Sbort.
376 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Short. If I do fnore my part out [Exit.
Unc. Now to our purpofes.
Mer. Good morrow, madam !
Wid. Good morrow, gentlemen !
Unc. Good joy and fortune ! •
Wid. Thefe are good things, and worth my thanks ^ I thank you, Sir.
Mer. Much joy I hope you'll find : We came to
gratulate Your new-knit marriage-band.
Wid. How?
Unc. He's a gentleman, Altho' he be my kinfman, my fair niece. • •Wid. Niece, Sir?
Unc. Yes, lady, now I may fay fo ; 5Tis no fhame to you ! I fay, a gentleman, And, winking at fome light fancies, which you - • j Molt happily may affect him for, as bravely carried, As nobly bred and rnanag'd
Wid. What's all this ? I undeiilaiidyounot. What niece, what marriage-knot E
Unc. I'll tell plainly ;
You are my niece, and Valentine the gentleman Has made you fo by marriage.
Wid. Marriage?
Unc. Yes, lady;
And 'twas a noble and a virtuous part, To take a falling man to your protection, And buoy him up again to all his glories.
Wid. The men are mad !
Mer. What though he wanted Thefe outward things, that fly away like Ihadows, Was not his mind a full one, and a brave one ? You've wealth enough to give him glofs and outfide, And he wit enough to give way to love a lady.
Unc. I ever thought he would do well.
Mer. Nay, I knew, Howe'er he wheel'd about like a loofe carbine 783
78 Cablne.~\ A carbine is a term for a horfe foldier, and ufed by our Authors in another play, fo that I cannot doubt of its being the
genuine
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 377
He would charge home at length, like a brave gentle man. Heav'n's blefling o'your heart, lady ! We're fo bound
to honour you ; In all your fervice fo devoted to you •
Unc . Don't look fo ftrange, Widow ; it mufl be
known ;
Better a general joy. No ftirring here yet ? Come, come, you can't hide it.
Wid. Pray be not impudent •, Thele are the fineft toys ! Belike I arn married then ?
Mer. You are in a miferable eftate i'th' world's ac count elfe : I would not for your wealth it come to doubting.
Wid. And I am great with child ?
Unc. No, great they fay not. But 'tis a full opinion you're with child -, And there's great joy among the gentlemen, Your hufband hath beftirred himfelf fairly.
Mer. Alas, we know his private hours of entrance, How long, and when he ftay'd, could name the bed too, Where he paid down his firft-fruits.
Wid. I mall believe anon.
Unc . And we confider, for fome private reafons, You'd have it private -, yet take your own pleafure : And fo, good morrow, my belt niece, my fweeteft !
Wid. No, no, pray ftay.
Unc. I know you would be with him. Love him, and love him well !
Mer. You'll find him noble. This may beget — —
Unc. It muft needs work upon her.
{Exeunt Uncle and Merchant.
Wid. Thefe are fine bobs, i' faith ! married, and with child too!
genuine reading, tho' Mr. Theobald did, for I fent to him, and find It in his margin with a Q^ He probably did not know whether it was in ufe in our Authors' time. I have Mr. Symplon's concurrence, who fays he had corrected it fo at the firft reading. Stward.
How
378 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
How long has this been, I trow ? They feem grave
fellows ;
They Ihould not come to flout. Married, and bedded i The world take notice too ! Where lies this maygame ? I could be vex'd extremely now, and rail too, But 'tis to no end. Though I itch a little, Muft I De fcratch'dl know not how ? Who waits there ?
Enter Humphry and another Servant. Hum. Madam ! Wid. Make ready my coach quickly, and wait you
only •,
And, hark you, Sir ! be ferret and fpeedy ! Jnquire out where he lies.
Hum. I mall do it, madam. [Exe. Seru.
Wid. Married, and got with child in a dream ['tis fine, i' faith !
Sure, he that did this, would do better waking. [Exit.
•-.
Enter Valentine, Francifco, Lance, drunk, and a boy with a torch.
Val. Hold thy torch handfomely ! How doft thou?
Frank ? Peter Baffel, bear up !
Fran. You've fried me foundly. Sack do you call this drink ?
Val. A Ihrewd dog, Frank ; Will bite abundantly.
"Lance. Now could I fight, And fight with thee
Val. With me, thou man of Memphis ?
Lance. But that thou'rt my own natural mafter. Yet, my fack fays thou'rt no man, thou art a Pagan, And pawn'ft thy land, which is a noble caufe.
Vol. No arms, no arms, good Lancelot ; Dear Lance, no fighting here ! We will have lands, boy, Livings, and titles ; thou malt be a vice-roy ! Hang fighting, hang it ; 'tis out of fafhion. -
Lance,lvfQuld fain labour you into your lands agaii
G<
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 379
Go to ; it is, behoveful !
Fran. Fy, Lance, fy !
Lance. I mutt beatfomebody, and why not my matter, Before a ftranger ? Charity and beating Begin at home.
Val. Come, thou fhalt beat me.
Lance. I will not be compelled, an you were two
matters ; fcorn the motion !
Val Wilt thou fleep ?
Lance. I fcorn fleep !
Val. Wilt thou go eat ?
Lance. I fcorn meat, I come for rompering ; come to wait upon my charge difcretely ; For, look you, if you will not take your mortgage
again, Here do I lie, St. George, and fo forth !
Val. And here do I, St. George, beftridethe dragon ! Thus, with my lance
Lance. I fting, I fting with my tail.
»Val. Do you fo, do you fo, Sir ? I mall tail you prefently ! Fran. By no means ; do not hurt him ! Val. Take his Nellfon > And now rife, thou maiden-knight of Malaga ! Lace on thy helmet of enchanted fack, And charge again.
Lance. I play no more •, you abufe me ! Will you go ?
Fran. I'll bid you good morrow, brother ; For fleep I can't ; I have a thoufand fancies.
Val. Now thou'rt arriv'd, go bravely to the matter, And do fomething of worth, Frank.
Lance. You lhall hear from us. \Exe. Lance and Fran. * Val. This rogue, if he had been fober, fure had
beaten me. He's the moft tettilh knave !
tftftf
5:8o WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Enter Uncle^ Merchant, and boy 79, with a torch. Unc. 'Tis he. Mer. Good morrow ! VaL Why, Sir, good morrow to you too, an you be
fo luily. Unc. You've made your brother a fine man \ we
met him.
VaL I made him a fine gentleman, He was a fool before, brought up amongft the 8o mift Of fmall-beer brewhoufes. "\Vhat would you have
* with me ?
Mer. I come to tell you, your lateft hour is come. VaL Are you my fentence ? Mer. The fentence of your ftate. VaL Let it be hanged then ; and let it be hang'd high enough,
."9 EnterUndeand Merchant: May with a torch. ] Thus fay the quartos ; the folio of 1679 favs» %• Whether May was corrupted, at prefs from man, or whether it was the real or dramatic name of the torch-bearer, is not now to be decided.
£° Amongft the midlt of fmall-beer brewhoitfes.] How much the flight change I have made improves the fenfe, the reader of tafte will inllantly fee. He will probably wonder how any one could mifs it, and think it fcarce deferves a note. But for my own part, I feveral times read o'er the paflage without feeing the corruption, and am at Jaft the difcoverer, tho' Mr. Theobald and Mr Symplon (whofe abi lities no one will I believe doubt) had very accurately fludied the play. The fame thing has frequently happen'd to me with regard to their emendations j and I doub.t not but every fenfible reader will find out many more, which we have all three miffed, as obvious and certain as this. Whaf therefore I would often inculcate is, that the reader ihould cot be too /eyere upon us for fuch overfight^ : Becaufe the fame thing has happened to all editors of books, which abound with' fuch nu merous corruptions as do our Authors' plays. Seaward.
A Reader who will not excufe the overfights of an Annotator muft indeed be harm and rigid ; and did the Editors of Beaumont an4 Eietcher's Works in 1750 need exculpation on no other account, it is more than probable the Editors of 1776 would never have undertaken their laborious tf-fk ; iince their firft inducement to it was, an obferva- tion of the unprecedented interpolations, omiflions, and every other fpecies of variation, UNNOTICED, made ufe of by their predecefTors j and, in the proccfs of their work, they have found each of thofe freedoms practifed with much more latitude than they at firft fup- £vfed'or imagined had been taken,
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 38-*
I may not fee 't.
Unc. A gracious refolution.
Val. What would you elfe with me ? Will you go- drink,.
And let the world flide, Uncle ? Ha, ha, ha, boys \ Drink fack like whey,, boys \
Mer. Have you no feeling, Sir ?
Val. Come hither, Merchant ! Make me a flipper",. Thou moft reverend land-catcher, a fupper of forty pounds !
Mer. What then, Sir ?
Val. Then, bring thy wife along, and thy fair fitters, Thy neighbours and their wives, and all their trinkets > Let me have forty trumpets, and fuch wine ! We'll laugh at all the rriiferies of mortgage •, And then jn (late I'll render thee an anfwer.
Mer. What fay you to this ?
Unc. I dare not fay, nor think neither.
Mer. Will you redeem your ftate ? Speak to the point, Sir*
Val. Noy not if it were mine heir in the Turk's gallies.
Mer. Then I muft take an order,
Val. Take a thoufand,
I will not keep it, nor thou fhalt not have it •, Becaule thou cam'ft i' ths nick, thou malt not have it I Go, take poflefiion, and be fure you hold it, Hold faft with both hands, for there be thofe hounds
uncoupled,
.Will ring you fuch a knell ! Go down in glory, And march upon my land, and cry, ' All's mine !'. ' Cry as the devil did, and be the devil : Mark what an echo follows ! Build fine marchpanes, To entertain Sir Silkworm and his lady •, And pull the chapel down, and raife a chamber For mifhrefs Silver-pin, to lay her belly in : Mark what an earthquake comes ! Then, foolifh
Merchant,
My tenants are no fubjects ; they obey nothing, , And they are people too were never chriilen'd ;
They
382 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
They know no law nor confcience; they'll devour thee^ An thou art mortal^ Staple81 ; they'll confound thee Within three days ^ no bit nor memory Of what thou wert, no, not the wart upon thy nofe
there,
Shall be e'er heard of more ! Go, take pofleffion, And bring thy children down, to roaft like rabbits ; They love young toafts and butter, Bow- bell fuckers* As they love mifchief, and hate law $ they're cannibals ! Bring down thy kindred too, that be not fruitful, There be thofe mandrakes that will mollify 'em ! Go, take pofTeflion ! I'll go to my chamber. Afore, boy, go! [Exeunf Val and boy.
Mer. He's mad fure !
Unc. He's half drunk^ fure! And yet I like this unwillingnefs to lofe it, This looking back.
Mer. Yes, if he did it handfomely ; But he's fo harm and ftrange !
Unc. Believe it, 'tis his drink, Sir -9 And I am glad his drink has thruft it outa
Mer. Cannibals ?
If -e'er I come to view his regiments, If fair terms may be had
Unc. He tells you true, Sir •, They are a bunch of the moft boifterous rafcak Diforder ever made ; let 'em be mad once, The pow'r of the whole country cannot cool 'errh Be patient but a while.
81 they'll devour thee : and tbott tnortall the ftople, they'll confound thee."] Out of this abyfs of darknefs I hope that I have retrieved both fenfe and meafure, and I have the lefs doubt of it, as they mutually confirm each other. My reading gives this fenfe, They'll devour thee, if thou art made of mortal fluff, or according to mortal ftandard j it might perhaps be wrote, An thou art mortal, Staple; calling the merchant by that name. Mr. Sympfon had hit off the word jlctple before he received my note, and read, Thou mortal of thejlaple ; i.e. Thou man of merchandife. When different readings are equally fenfe, conjecture cannot decide, which was the original. Seivard.
Mr. Seward reads, An tlou art mortal ftaple ; but we think the preference due to his other fuggeilion, of Valentine calling the Mer chant Staple.
Mer.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 38$
Mer. As long as you will, Sir. Before I buy a bargain of fuch runts, I'll buy a college for bears, and live among 'em !
[Exeunt.
Enter Francifco, Lance, and boy with a torch.
Fran. How doft thou now ?
Lance. Better than I was, and flraighter •, But my head's a hogfhead ftill -, it rowls and tumbles,
Fran. Thou wert cruelly paid.
Lance. I may live to requite it ;« Put a fnaffie of fack in my mouth, and then ride met Very well !
Fran. 'Twas all but fport. I'll tell thee what I mean
now ; I mean to fee this Wench.
Lance. Where a devil is flie ? An there were two, 'twere better.
Fran. Doft thou hear The bell ring ?
Lance. Yes, yes.
Fran. Then Ihe comes to pray'rs, Early each morning thither : Now, if I Could but
meet her, For I am of another metal now —
Enter Ifabel and Shorthofe, with a i torch.
Lance. What light's yon ?
Fran. Ha ? 'tis a light 5 take her by the hand, and
court her ? Lance. Take her below the girdk, you'll ne'er fpeed
elfe.
It comes on this way ftill. Oh, that I had But fuch an opportunity in a faw-pit ! How it comes on, comes on ! 'tis here.
Frari. 'Tis Ihe :
Fortune, I kifs thy hand ! Good morrow, lady ! Ifab. What voice is that ? Sirrah, do you fleep As you go ?-'Tis he^ I'm glad on't !-Why, Shorthofe !
Short.
384 WIT WITHOUT MONEY;
Short. Yes, forfooth ; I was dreamt I was going td church.
Lance. She fees you as plain as I do.
Ifab. Hold thy torch up.
Short. Here's nothing but a flail, and a butcher'^
dog afleep in?t. Where did you fee the voice ?
Fran. She looks ftill angry.
Lance. To her, and meet, Sir !
Ifab. Here, here.
Fran. Yes, lady !
Ne'er blefs yourfelf •, I am but a man, And like an honeil man, now I will thank you !
Ifab, What do you mean ? whofent for you? who defir'd you
Short. Shall I put out the torch, forfooth ?
Ifab. Can I not go about my private meditations, ha ! But fuch companions as you muft ruffle me ? You had bed go with me, Sir !
Fran. It was my purpofe.
Ifab. Why, what an impudence is this ! You had beft, Being fo near the church, provide a prieit, And perfuade me to marry you.
Fran. 'Twas my meaning ; And fuch a hufband, fo loving and fo careful !
My youth, and all my fortunes fhall arrive at
Hark you !
Ifab. 'Tis ftrange you fhould be thus unmannerly ! Turn home again, firrah ! You had beft now force My man to lead your way !
Fran. Yes, marry mall he, lady 8z. Forward, my friend .!
Ifab. This is a pretty riot ; It may grow to a rape.
Fran. Do you like that better ? I can ravifh you an hundred times, and never hurt you.
Short. I fee nothing ; I am afleep ftill.
81 Lance. Yes, marry, Jball he, lady, &"c ] This fpeech has been hilherto given to Lance, tho' fo evidently belonging to Francifco.
When
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 385
When you have done, tell me^ and then I'll wake, miftrefs.
Ifab. Are you in earneft, Sir ? do you long to be hang'd?
Fran. Yes, by my troth, lady, in thefe fair trefles.
Ifab. Shall I call out for help ?
Fran. No, by no means ;
That were a weak trick, lady : I'll kifs and flop your mouth. [Ki/es her.
Ifab. You'll anfwer all thefe?
Fran. A thoufand kiffes more !
Ifab. I was ne'er abus'd thus !
You had beft give out too, that you found me willing, And fay I doted on you.
Fran. That's known already, And no man living mail now carry you from me.
Ifab. This is fine, i'faith.
Fran. It mall be ten times finer.
Ifab. Well, feeing you're fo valiant j keep your way ; I will to church.
Fran. And I will wait upon you.
Ifab. And it is
Moft likely there's a priefl, if you dare venture As you profefs : I'd wim you look about you, Td do thefe rude tricks, for you know their recom*
pences •, And truft not to my mercy •
Fran. But I will, lady.
Ifab. For I'll fo handle you.
Fr4n. That's it I look for.
Lance. Afore, thou dream !
Short. Have you done?
Ifab. Go on, Sir ! And follow, if you dare !
Fran. If I don't, hang me !
• Lance. 'Tis all thine own, boy, an it were a million !
God a mercy, fack ! when would fmall-beer have done
this? [Exeunt.
VOL. II. B b Enter
386 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Enter Valentine. ^Knockin&
VaL Who's that that knocks and bounces ? what a
devil ails you ? Is hell broke loofe, or do you keep an iron-mill ?
Enter a Servant.
Serv. 'Tis a gentlewoman, Sir, that muft needs fpeak
with you. VaL A gentlewoman ? what gentlewoman ? what
have I to do With gentlewomen ?
Serv. She will not be anfwer'd, Sir. Vol. Fling up the bed, and let her in. I'll try How gentle fhe>. [Exit Serv.] This fack has fill'd
my head
So full of Babels *3, I am almoft mad. What gentlewoman mould this be ? I hope me Has brought me no butter-print along with hery To lay to my charge : If fhe have, 'tis all one, I'll forfwear it.
Re-enter Servant, with Widow.
Wid. Oh, you're a noble gallant ! Send off your fervant, pray. [Exit Servant.
VaL She will not ravifh me ?
By this light, me looks as fharp-fet as a fparrow-hawk \ What wouldft thou, woman ?
Wid. Oh, you have us'd me kindly, And like a gentleman ! This 'tis to truft to you.
VaL Truft to me, for what ?
Wid. Becaufe I faid in jeft once,- You were a handfome man, one I could like well. And, fooling, made you believe I lov'd'you, And might be brought to marry — - —
VaL The Widow's drunk too !
Wid. You, out of this (which is a fine difcretioiO Give out the matter's done, you've won and wed me,
former editions. Seward.
And.
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 387
And that you have put fairly for an heir too : Thefe are fine rumours to advance my credit ! I' th* name of mifchief, what did you mean ?
Val. That you lov'd me, And that you might be brought to marry me ? Why, what a devil do you mean, Widow ?
Wid. It was a fine trick too, to tell the world, Tho' you had enjoy'd your firft wifh, you wifh'd, The wealth you aim'd not at 84, that I was poor, Which is moft true I am ; have fold my lands, Becaufe I love not thofe vexations : Yet, for mine honour's fake, if you muft be prating. And for my credit's fake i' ths town
Val. I tell thee, Widow,
I like thee ten times better, now thou haft no lands ; For now thy hopes and cares lie on thy huiband, If e'er thou marriell more.
Wid. Have not you married me ? And for this main caufe, now as you report it, To be your nurfe ?
Val. My nurfe ? Why, what am I grown to ? Give me the glafs ! My nurfe ?
Wid. You ne'er faid truer. I muft confefs, I did a little favour you, And with fome labour might have been perfuaded ; But, when I found I muft be hourly troubled With making broths, and dawbing your decays, With fwaddling, and with ftitching up your ruins ; For the world fo reports
Pal. Do not provoke me !
Wid. And half an eye may fee — —
VaL Do not provoke me ! The world's a lying world, and thou malt find it ! Have a good heart, and take a ftrong faith to thee, And mark what follows. My nurfe ? Yes, you lhall
rock me : Widow, I'll keep you waking !
Wid. You're difpofed, Sir. '
84 The wealth you aimed at.] We have added the word not here, the fenfe requiring it.
B b 2 Val
388 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Vol. Yes, marry am I, Widow ; and you fliall feel it ! Nay, an they touch my freehold, I'm a tiger !
Wid. I think fo.
Val. Come!
Wid. Whither?
VaL Any whither. t [Sings.
The fit's upon me now,
The fit's upon me now !
Come quickly, gentle lady,
The fit's upon me now ! The world mail know they're fools,
And fo fhalt thou do too ; Let the cobler meddle with his tools,
The fit's upon me now !
Take me quickly, while I am in this vein !
Away with me; for if I have but two hours to confidcr,
All the widows in the world cannot recover me.
Wid. If you will go with me, Sir
Val. Yes, marry, will I ; But 'tis in anger yet ! and 1 will marry thee ; Do not crofs me ! Yes, and I will lie with thee, And get a whole bundle of babies ; and I'll kifs thee ! Stand ftill, and kifs me handfomely ; but don't pro voke me !
Stir neither hand nor foot, for I am dangerous ! I drunk fack yefternight ; do not allure me ! Thou art no widow of this world ! come ! in pity, And in fpite I'll marry thee. Not a word more ! And I may be brought to love thee. [Exeunt*
Enter Merchant and Uncle, at feveral doors.
Mer. Well met again ! and what good news yet ? Unc. Faith, nothing. Mer. No fruits of what we fow'd ? Unc. Nothing I hear of. Mer. No turning in this tide yet r Unc. 3Tis all flood ; . And, 'till that fall away, there's no expedting,
Enter
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 389
Enter Francifco, Ifabella, Lance, and Shorthofe, with a torch.
Mer. Is not this his younger brother ?
Unc. With a gentlev/oman ; The Widow's fifter, as I live ! He fmiies •, He's got good hold. Why, well faid, Frank, i'faith ! Let's ftay and mark.
Ifab. Well, you're the prettieft youth ! And fo you have handled me, think you have me fure ?
Fran. As fure as wedlock.
Ifab. You'd beft lie with me too.
Fran. Yes, indeed, will I ; and get fuch black-ey'd boys !
Unc. God a mercy, Frank !
Ifab. This is a merry world ; poor fimple gentle women,
That think no harm, can't walk about their bufmefs, But they muft be catch'd up, I" know not how.
Fran. I'll tell you, and I'll inflrucl: you too. Have I caught you, miftrefs ?
Ifab. Well, an it were not for pure pity, I would give you the flip yet ; but, being as it is— -
Fran. It mall be better.
Enter Valentine, Widow, and Ralph, with a torch.
Ifab. My fifter, as I live ! your brother with her ? Sure, I think you're the king's takers, Unc. Now it works. Val. Nay, you mall know I am a man. Wid. I think fo.
Val. And fuch proof you mall have ! Wid. I pray, fpeak foftly. Val. I'll fpeak it out, Widow ; yes, and you mall
confefs too,
I am no nurfe-child ; I went for a man, A good one •, if you can beat me out o' th' pit — -— Wid. I did but jeft with you.
. I'll handle you in earneft, and fo handle you \ B b 3 Nay,
390 WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
Nay, when my Credit calls
Wid. Are you mad ?
VaL I am mad, I am mad !
Fran. Good morrow, Sir ! I like your preparation,
VaL Thou haft been at it, Frank ?
Fran. Yes, faith, 'tis done, Sir. •
VaL Along with me then ! Never hang an arfe, Widow !
Ifab. 'Tis to no purpofe, filler.
VaL Well faid, Black-brows ! Advance your torches, gentlerrlen !
Unc. Yes, yes, Sir.
VaL And keep your ranks !
Mer. Lance, carry this before him.
[Giving the mortgage.
Unc. Carry it in ftate !
Enter Mujidans^ Fountain^ Harebrain, and Bellamorc,
VaL What are you ? muficians ? I know your coming85 ! And what are thofe behind you ?
Mufi. Gentlemen That fent us, to give the lady a good morrow.
VaL Oh, I know them. Come, boy, fing the fong
I taught you, And fing it luftily ! Come forward, gentlemen !
85 1 know you coming.] Befide the obfcurity of this exprdfion, which I take to have been a mere typographical error, coming for come in, a fyllalple is wanting to the meafure, which I have taken the liberty to fupply, believing either you, or fome other monofyllable as in different to the fenfe has been dropt. One may eafily believe, that fuch miftakes may have frequently happened in a play, where there have been vifibly fuch numerous corruptions, and where the meafure was fo fhockingly difregarded, that not twenty lines in the whole were defignedly printed as fuch, in any former edition. This I hope I have generally reftored ; and that by the afliftanceof Mr. Sympfon and Mr. Theobald's margin, I have retrieved many paflages which were corrupted I am far from prefuming that all our conjectures are right ; or that feveral blunders are not dill left untouched. Swoard.
Mr. Seward reads, What" re you, muficlam? 1 know you, come you in, and what, &c. The old quartos fay, I know your comming ; meaning, as we apprehend, 1 know of jour coming^ it being cudomary at weddings.
You're
WIT WITHOUT MONEY. 391
You're welcome, welcome ! now we are all friends. Go, get the prieft ready, and let him not be long, We have much bufmefs. Come, Frank, rejoice with me! Thou'ft got the ftart,
boy,
But Pll fo tumble after ! Come, my friends, lead, Lead cheerfully ; and let your fiddles ring, boys ! My follies and my fancies have an end here. Difplay the mortgage, Lance ! Merchant, I'll pay you, And every thing mall be in joint again.
Unc . Afore, afore !
Val. And now confefs, and know, Wit without Money, fometimes gives the blow !
[Exeunt omnes.
IN the preparation of BEAUMONT and FLETCHER'S Works for the prefs, in 1750, either Mr. Theobald or Mr. Seward difcovered, that the comedy of Wit without Money had been originally written in verfe, and undertook the arduous ta/k of reftoring the metre, in- ilead of printing it profaically, as in all the former editions had been done. \Ye are not capable of declaring to which of thefe gentlemen the honour of this well-meant undertaking belongs, or how far Mr. Theobald had proceeded in it at the time of his deceafe. From whomfoever the intent originated, by whomfoever the plan was exe cuted, we are forry to find the commendations due to the under taking, muft meet with a very confiderable alloy, on obferving how lightly the martyrdom of language, and the faithfulnefs of editor- fhip, were looked on, when (which was very frequently the cafe) the procefs of this poetic plan met with interruption. How fmall is the honour to an Editor, how material the difgrace to an Author, how great the impediment to a Reader, when we find
|
Val'ntine, \ |
" Valentine, |
|
|
'S this man nak'd, |
Is this man naked, |
|
|
h'fo, |
hefo, |
|
|
t' y'rfelf, |
to yourfelf, |
|
|
m' friends, |
my friends, |
|
|
m' fo, |
"o |
me fo, |
|
'tis 'r fitter, |
1 |
'tis her fitter, |
|
b' there, |
1 |
be there, |
|
this 's boifterous, |
c |
this is boifterous, |
|
this 's brother, |
-5 |
this his brother, |
|
I w's going, |
rt |
I was going, |
|
nei'er, |
* |
neither, |
|
f ' loving, |
fo loving, |
|
|
f 'r all this, |
for all this, |
|
|
g'd morrow, |
good morrow, |
|
|
ftiarp fct 's 'fparrow-hawk,' |
t ftiarp fet as a fparrow-hawk, |
|
|
iSb4 wi |
392
WIT WITHOUT MONEY.
with multitudes fimilar ; for we only mention fuch contractions as firft occur to us, by way of fpecimen ?• — And if to thefe verbal aflaffina- tior s we (hould (in aid of our equi-fyllabic purfuit) add the intro ducing fuch arbitrary variations as to read
To think well of ^\ f To think well of ourfelves, if Ourfelves, if we deferve it, it is,
Sir a luftre
rarely ta'en, 'T has rid us fair of an incum-
'That heixhodoth intreat intrudes, T/J beyond faith, let's be going,
There are here fome gentlemen, Now I'm another metal, >
we deferve it, is a luftre in ust
""Thas taken rarely,
It has rid us of a fair incum- brance,
He that intreats intrudes,
I am beyond my faith, pray let's be going,
Here be fome gentlemen, k For I am of another metal now,
together with interpolations, omiffions, and tranffojitions, ad infinitum ; when convidted of all thefe, io far from expecting applaufe, can
they hope for pardon, or think to avoid the fevereit cenfure ?
We beg to have it underftood, that the freedoms which we object to, are fuch as the Editors have not mentioned in their notes. Noticed variations (but thofe variations fhould ever be made with the greateft caution, and not without an apparent urgent neceffity) are in forne
..degree allowable j others, we think, highly reprehenfible. The?
whole of this play was printed under the infpeftion of Mr. Seward, whofe only object of confideration feems to have been, the eitablifli- ment of metre, no matter by what means ; to him, therefore, we are to afcribe the abovementioned violences.
We have no doubt but the play of Wit without Money was written in verfe j but it is at the fame time certain, that either our Authors were more licentious in this Comedy than in all their other plays put together ; or elfe that the players, * by whom, as Mr. Seward fup- ' pofes, this play was divefted of its meafure, in order to render the * dialogue more low and farcical,' and who did not publifh it till four teen years after Fletcher's demife, were fo fuccefsful in their anti- heroic endeavour, that it appears totally impoflible ever to effect a thorough reiteration of the metre.
Ail we can afluie the reader is, that we have carefully adhered to the old copies, where the fenfe did not demand variation ; that we have fubmitted fuch variations as we thought ourfelves obliged to make, to the judgment of the Reader ; and that (induced as well by the licentioufnefs of the old poetick writers, as a defire to be faith ful Editors) we have preferred leaving faulty verfes, to caflration of language for regularity of meafure. •
BEpGARS
I
BEGGARS' BUSH
A COMEDY.
he Commendatory Verfes by Gardiner and Hills attribute this Play wholly to Fletcher. It was fir ft printed in the folio of 1 647, Vntil within a few years paft, the Comedy now before us ufed to be
frequently reprefented aft Cogent-Garden theatre. In the year 1 768, Mr. Hull made fame alterations in it, and, with the addition of
fever al 'fangs, brought it on thejlage as an opera t under the title of 7he Royal, Merchant.
DRAMATIS
DRAMATIS PERSONS.
MEN.
Wolfort, an ufurper of the earldom of Flanders. Gerrard, falfely called Clauie, king of the beggars, fa*
ther in-law to Florez.
Hubert, an hontft lord, a friend to Gerrard. Florez, falfely called Goiwin, a rich merchant of Bruges, Hempikirke, a captain under Wolfort. Herman a courtier, 7 MManfs of Flanders. A Merchant, }
Vandunke, a drunken merchant, friend to Gerrard, falfely
called father to Bertha.
Four Merchants,? **"&*•"• ; ',
HiggeiO
Prigg, nhree knavijh beggars.
Snapp, 3
Ferret, I two gentlemen, difguifed under thofe names, of
Ginkes, j Gerrard 's party.
Clown.
Boors.
A Sailor.
Servants.
Guard.
WOMEN.
Jaculin, daughter to Gerrard, beWd of Hubert. Bertha, called Gertrude, daughter to the duke of Brabant^
miflrefs to Florez. Margaret, wife to Vandunke. Mrs. Frances, afrow, daughter to Fanlock.
SCENE, FLANDERS.
EGG ARSi
BEGGAR S' BUSH,
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter a Merchant and Herman.
Merchant. "T" S he then taken ?
Her. And brought back even now, Sir, JL Mer. He was not in difgrace ?
H$r. No man more lov'd, Nor more deferv'd it, being the only man That durft be honeft in this court.
Mer. Indeed
-We've heard abroad, Sir, that the ftate hath fuffer'd A great change, fmce the countefs' death.
Her. It hath, Sir.
Mer. My five years' abfence hath kept me a ftranger So much to all th' occurrents of my country, As you mail bind me for fome fhort relation, To make me underftand the prefent times.
Her. I mud begin then with a war was made, And feven years with all cruelty continued, Upon our Flanders by the duke of Brabant. The caufe grew thus : During our earl's minority, Wolfort, who now ufurps, was employ'd thither, To treat about a match between our earl And the daughter and heir of Brabant : During which
treaty,
The Brabander pretends, this daughter was Stol'n from his court, by practice of our ftate \
Tho'
396 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Tho' we are all confirm'd, 'twas a fought quarrel, To lay an unjuft gripe upon this earldom ; It being here believ'd the duke of Brabant Had no fuch lofs. This war upon't proclaim'd, Our earl, being then a child, altho' his father Good Gerrard liv'd, yet (in refped: he was Chofen by the countefs' favour for her hulband, And but a gentleman, and Florez holding His right unto this country from his mother) The ftate thought fit, in this defenfive war, Wolfort being then the only man of mark, To make him general.
Mer. Which place we've heard He did difcl^arge with honour.
Her. Ay, fo long,
And with fo blefs'd fuccefles, that the BrabandeF Was forc'd (his treafures wafted, and the choice Of his beft men of arms tir'd, or cut off) To leave the field, and found a bafe retreat Back to his country : But fo broken, both Jn mind and means, e'er to make head again, That hitherto he fits down by his lofs ; Not daring, or for honour, or revenge, Again to tempt his fortune. But this victory More broke our ftate, and made a deeper hurt In Flanders, than the greateft overthrow She e'er receiv'd : For Wolfort, now beholding Himfelf, and actions, in the flattering glafs Of felf-defervings, and that cherim'd by The ftrong aflurance of his pow'r (for then All captains of the army were his creatures, The common foldier too at his devotion, Mafle fo by full indulgence to their rapines, And fecret bounties •,) this ftrength too well known, And what it could effeft, foon put in practice, As further'd by the childhood of the earl, And their improvidence that might have pierc'd The heart of his defigns, gave him occafion To feize the whole : And in that plight you find it,
Mas
BEGGARS' BUSH. 397
Mer. Sir, I receive the knowledge of thus much, As a choice favour from you.
Her. Only I muft add, Bruges hold out.
Mer. Whither, Sir, I am going ; For there laft night I had a fhip put in, And my horfe waits me.
Her. I wilh you a good journey '. [Exeunt.
Enter Wolfort, Hubert, and attendants.
Wol What ? Hubert ftealing from me ? Who dif-
arm'd him r
'Twas more than I commanded. Take your fword, I am beft guarded with it in your hand ; I've feen you ufe it nobly.
Hub. And will turn it On my own bofom, ere it mall be drawn Unworthily or rudely.
Wol. Would you leave me Without a farewell, Hubert ? Fly a friend Unwearied in his ftudy to advance you ? What have I e'er poffefs'd which was not yours ? Or rather z did not court you to command it ? Who ever yet arriv'd to any grace, Reward, or trufl from me, but his approaches Were by your fair reports of him preferr'd ? And what is more, I made myfelf your fervant, In making you the mailer of thofe fecrets Which not the rack of confcience could draw from me, Nor I, when I afk'd mercy, trufl my prayers with ; Yet, after thefe aflurances of love, Thefe ties and bonds of friendfhip, to forfake me ! Forfake me as an enemy ! Come, you muft Give me a reafon.
This fcene is cold and fuperfluous : The very next much more happily opens the plot, by dramatick adion.
* Or either did not court you, &c.~\ The fenie requires us to read rather inltead of either.
Hub.
398 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
Hub. Sir, and fo I will ; If I may do't in private, and you hear it.
WoL All leave the room. You have your will 5 fit down, [Exeunt all but WoL and Hub. And ufe the liberty of our firft friendlhip.
Hub. Friendfliip ? When you prov'd traitor firftj
that vanifh'd ;
Nor do I owe you any thought but hate. I know my flight hath forfeited my head ; And, fo I may make you firft underfland What a ftrange moniler you have made yourfelf, I welcome it.
Wol. To me this is ftrange language.
Hub. To you ? why, what are you ?
Wol. Your prince and mafter. The earl of Flanders.
Hub. By a proper title ? Rais'd to't by cunning, circumvention, force$ Blood, and profcriptions !
Wol. And in all this wifdom, Had I not reafon, when, by Gerrard's plots^ I fhould have firft been calPd to a ftrict account, How, and which way I had confum'd that mafs Of money, as they term it, in the war -9 Who underhand had by his minifters Detracted my great actions, made my faith And loyalty fufpected ; in which failing He fought my life by practice ?
Hub. With what forehead Do you fpeak this to me, who (as I know't) Muft and will fay 'tis falfe ?
Wol. My guard there !
Hub. Sir,
You bad me fit, and promis'd you would hear, Which I now fay you mall ! Not a found more ! For I, that am contemner of mine own, Am mafter of your life ! then, here's a fword Between you and all aids, Sir. Though you blinc The credulous beaft, the multitude, you pafs not
The
BEGGARS' BUSH. 399
Thefe grofs untruths on me.
Wol. How ? grofs untruths ?
Hub. Ay, and it is favourable language •, They had been in a mean man lies, and foul ones*
WoL You take ftrange licence.
Hub. Yes •, were not thole rumours, Of being call'd unto your anfwer, fpread By your own followers ? and weak Gerrard wrought. But by your cunning practice, to believe That you were dangerous •, yet not to be Punim'd by any former courfeof law, But firft to be made fure, and have your crimes Laid open after? which your quaint train taking, You fled unto the camp, and there crav'd humbly Protection for your innocent life, and that, Since you had 'fcap'd the fury of the war, You might not fall by treafon : And for proof You did not for your own ends make this danger, Some that had been before by you fuborn'd, Came forth and took their oaths they had been hir'd By Gerrard to your murder. This once heard, And eafily believ'd, th' enraged foldier, Seeing no further than the outward man, Snatch'd haftily his arms, ran to the court, Kill'd'all that made refiftance, cut in pieces Such as were fervants, or thought friends to Gerrard, Vowing the like to him.
WoL Will you yet end ?
Hub. Which he forefeeing, with his fon, the earl, Forfook the city -, and by fecret ways, (As you give out, and we v/ould gladly have it) Efcap'd their fury \ tho* 'tis more than fear'd They fell among the reft. Nor ftand you there, To let us only mourn the impious means By which you got it ; but your cruelties fmce So far tranicend your former bloody ills, .As, if compared, they only would appear Effays of mifchief. Do not (lop your ears •, More are behind yet !
Wol
4oo BEGGARS' BUSH.
Wol. Oh, repeat them not : 5Tis hell to hear them nam'd !
Hub. You fhould have thought^ That hell would be your punimment when you did
them !
A prince in nothing but your princely lufls> And boundlefs rapines !
Wol. No more, I befeech you !
Hub. Who was the lord of houfe or land, that flood Within the profpect of your covetous eye ?
Wol. You are in this to me a greater tyrant, Than e'er I was to any.
Hub. I end thus
The general grief. Now to my private wrong, The lofs of Gerrard's daughter Jaculin : The hop'd-for partner of my lawful bed, Your cruelty hath frighted from mine arms j And her I now was wand'ring to recover. Think you that I had reafon now to leave yotij When you are grown fo juftly odious, That e'en my flay here, with your grace and favour, Makes my life irkfome ? Here, fecurely take it ? ! And do me but this fruit of all your friendmip, That I may die by you, and not your hangman.
Wol. Oh, Hubert, thefe your words and reafons have As well drawn drops of blood from my griev'd heartj As thefe tears from mine eyes : Defpife them not ! By all that's facred, I am ferious, Hubert. You now have made me fenfible, what furies, Whips, hangmen, and tormentors, a bad man Does ever bear about him 4 ! Let the good
^ Here furely take />.] Mr. Seward reads, Here, Sir, freely take it. The alteration admitted into the text is propofed by Mr. Sympfon ) which we prefer becaufe there is a civility in Sir but ill adapted to the prefent temper of Hubert, and becaufe it is nearer the old books.
4 What furies, c5V.] Rowe feems to have intended copying this paflage in his Fair Penitent :
* Guilt is the fource of forrovv ; 'tis the fiend, ' Th1 avenging fiend, that follows ua behind ' With whips and flings.*—
That
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 401
That you this day have done, be ever number'd The firft of your beft a6tions. Can you think Where Florez is, or Gerrard, or your love, Or any elie, or all, that are profcrib'd ? I will refxgn what I ufurp, or have Unjufbly forc'd. The days I have to live Are too, too few, to make them fatisfaction With any penitence : Yet I vow to practice All of a man.
Hub. Oh, that your heart and tongue Did not now differ !
Wol. By my griefs, they do not ! Take the good pains to fearch them out ; 'tis worth it, You have made clean a leper •, truft me, you have, And made me once more fit for the fociety, I hope, of good men.
Hub. Sir, do not abufe My aptnefs to believe.
Wol. Sufpedl not you A faith that's built upon fo true a forrow : Make your own fafeties •, afk thee all the ties !<: Humanity can give ! Hempfkirke too mail Along with you, to this ib-wifli'd difcovery, And in my name profefs all that you promife : And I will give you this help to't j I have Of late receiv'd certain intelligence, That fome of them are in or about Bruges To be found out •, which I did then interpret The caufe of that town's Handing out againft me ; But now am glad, it may direct your purpofe Of giving them their fafety, and me peace.
Hub. Be conflant to your goodnefs, and you have it 5. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter three Merchants.
1 Mer. 5Tis much that you deliver of thisGofwin.
2 Mr.Butfhortof what 1 could, yet have the country
5 You ha<ve *>.] Mr. Seward reads, YOU'LL haw it. We think I you eafieft and beft.
VOL. II. Cc Confirm
402 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
Confirm it true, and by a general oath6, And not a man hazard his credit in it. He bears himfelf with fuch a confidence, As if he were the matter of .the fea, And not a wind, upon the Tailors' compafs, But from one part or other was his factor, To bring him in the beft commodities Merchant e'er ventur'd for.
1 Mer. 'Tis ftrange. 2, Mer. And yet
This does in him deferve the leaft of wonder, Compar'd with other his peculiar fafhions, Which all admire : He's young, and rich, at lead Thus far reputed fo, that, fince he liv'd In Bruges, there was never brought to harbour So rich a bottom, but his bill would pafs Unqueflion'd for her lading.
3 Mer. Yet he flill Continues a good man.
2 Mer. So good, that but
To doubt him, would be held an injury, Or rather malice, with the beft that traffick. But this is nothing -, a great fcock, and fortune, Crowning his judgment in his undertakings, May keep him upright that way : But that wealth Should want the pow'r to make him dote on it, Or youth teach him to wrong it, beft commends His conftant temper. For his outward habit, 'Tis fuitable to his prefent courfe of life •, His table furnifh'd well, but not with dainties That pleafe the appetite only for their rarenefs, Or their dear price ; nor given to wine or women, Beyond his health, or warrant of a man,
6 Yet have the country
Confirm 'd // true, and by a general oath,
And not a ?nan hazard his credit in //.] This is not grammar, nor, if it were, coaid it be iuppofed that the whole country had really 1- taken an oath to the truth of this account. The miftake arofe from I the Editors taking have for the fign of the perfedl tenfe ; whereas it J is here not the auxiliary but an active verb, 1 could have the <whoU^- country to confirm ivhat I fay. Seaward.
I mear.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 403
I mean a good one •, and fo loves his (late, He will not hazard it at play, nor lend Upon the afTurance of a well-penn'djetter, Although a challenge fecond the denial. From liich as make th* opinion of their valour Their means of feeding.
1 Mer. Thefe are ways to thrive, And yet the means not curs'd.
2 Mer. What follows this
Makes 7 many venturers with him, in their wifhes
For his profperity : For when defert
Or reafon leads him to be liberal,
His noble mind and ready hand contend
Which can add moft to his free courtefies,
Or in their worth, or fpeed, to make them fo.
Is there a virgin of good fame wants dower,
He is a father to her ; or a foldier,
That in his country's fervice, from the war
Hath brought home only fears, and want, his houfe
Receives him, and relieves him, with that care
As if what he poflefs'd had been laid up
For fuch good ufes, and he fteward of it.
But I mould lofe myfelf to fpeak him further.;
And ftale, in my relation, the much good
You may be witnefs of, if your remove
From Bruges be not fpeedy.
i Mer. This report, I do afTure you, will not haften it ;
7 2 Mer. What fo/toius, this
Makes'] Lait edition. What follow* this."] Old folio.
The attempt to amend the firft reading by the addition of a comma does not feem fufficient. I hope I have more effe&ually corre&ed it.
Seward. Mr. Seward's reading is,
What follows ?
2 Mer. This
Makes many venturers with him, &c,
We have followed the firft folio, the meaning of which feems prefer- able to that of the other copies -, i. e. • What I ftiall next mention (his « -benevolence) makes many fend their good wimes with his ventures.'
Cc2 Nor
464- B E G G A R S> BUSH,
Nor would I wifh a better man to deal with For what I am to part with.
3 Mer. Never doubt it,
He is your man and ours •, only I wifh
His too-much forwardnefs to embrace all bargains
Sink him not in the end.
2 Mer. Have better hopes •, For my part, I am confident. Here he comes.
Enter Go fain and the fourth Merchant.
Gof. I take it at your own rates, your wine of Cyprus 5 But, for your Candy fugars, they have met With fuch foul weather, and are priz'd fo high, I cannot fave in them.
4 Mer. I am unwilling
To feek another chapman. Make me offer Of fomething near my price, that may affure me You can deal for them.
Gof. I both can, and will, But not with too much lofs : Your bill of lading Speaks of two hundred chefts, valued by you At thirty thoufand guilders ; I will have them At twenty-eight ; fo, in the payment of Three thoufand fterling, you fall only in Two hundred pound.
4 Mer. You know, they are fo cheap-
Gof Why, look you, I'll deal fairly •, there's in prifon^ And at your fuit, a pirate, but unable To make you fatisfaclion, and pad hope To live a week, if you mould profecute What you can prove againit him : Set him free, And you mail have your money to a fliver, And prefent payment.
4 Mer. This is above wonder, A merchant of your rank, that have at fea So many bottoms in the danger of Thefe water-thieves, mould be a means to fave 'em \ It more importing you, for your own fafety To be at charge to fcour the fea of them,
B E G G A R Sf BUSH. 405
Than flay the fword of juftice, that is ready To fall on one fo confcious of his guilt That he dares not deny it.
Gof. You miftake me, If you think I would cherim in this captain The wrong he did to you, or any man. I was lately with him (having firft, from others' True teftimony, been affur'd a man Of more defert never put from the more) I read his letters of mart from this ftate granted For the recovery of fuch lofles, as He had receiv'd in Spain ; 'twas that he aim'd at, Not at three tuns of wine, bifcuit, or beef, Which his necefTity made him take from you. If he had pillag'd you near, or funk your fhip, Or thrown your men o'er-board, then he deferv'd .The laws extremefl rigour,. But, fince want Of what he could not live without, compell'd him To that he did (which, yet, our ftate calls death) I pity .his misfortunes, and to work you To fome companion of them, I come up To your own price : Save him, the goods are mine ; If not, feek elfewhere, I'll not deal for them.
4 Mer. Well, Sir, for your love, I will once be led To change my purpofe.
Gof. For your profit rather. ,.^
4 Mer. I'll prefently make means for his difcharge ; 'Till when, I leave you. {Exit.
2 Mer. What do you think of this ?
1 Mer. As of a deed of noble pity, guided By a ft rong judgment.
2 Mer. Save you, matter Gofwin ! Gof. Good day to all !
2 Mer. We bring you the refufal Of more commodities.
Gof. Are you the owners Of the fhip that laft night put into the harbour ?
i Mer. Both of the fhip, and lading.
Gof. What's the freight ?
C c 3 j Mer.
406 BEGGARS' BUSH.
1 Mer. Indico, cochineal, choice China fluffs
2 Mer. And cloth of gold, brought from CambaL Gof. Rich lading •,
For which I were your chapman, but I arn Already out of cafh.
i Mer. I'll give you day For the moiety of all.
Gof. How long ?
3 Mer. Six months.
Gof. 'Tis a fair offer ; which, if we agree About the prices, I, with thanks, accept of,. And will make prefent payment of the reft. Some two hours hence I'll come aboard,
i Mer. The gunner Shall fpeak you welcome.
Gof. Pll not fail.
3 Mer. Good morrow ! [Exeunt Mer.
Gof. Heav'n grant my mips a fafe return, before The day of this great payment •, as they are Expected three months fooner -, and my credit Stands good with all the world.
Enter Claufe.
Claufe. Blels my good mafter ! The prayers of your poor beadfman ever fha!3 Be fent up for you.
Gof. God o'mercy, Claufe ! There's fomething to put thee in mind hereafter To think of me.
Claufe. May he that gave it you, Reward you for it, with enereafe, good mailer !
Gof. I thrive the better for thy pray'rs.
Claufe. I hope fa
Thefe three years have I fed upon your bounties, And by the fire of your blefs'd charity warm'd me?'||l And yet, good mafter, pardon me, that muft, Tho' I have now receiv'd your alms, prefume To make one fuit more to you.
Gof. Whatis't, Claufe?
Clauft.
BEGGARS* BUSH. 407
Claufe. Yet, do not think me impudent, I befeech
you,
Since hitherto your charity hath prevented My begging your relief; 'tis not' for money, Nor cloaths, good matter, but your good word for me.
Gof. That thou malt have, Claufe ; for I think thee honeil.
Claufe. To-morrow then, dear mailer, take the
trouble
Of walking early unto Beggars' Bum «, And, as you fee me, among others, brethren In my affliction, when you are demanded Which you like beil among us, point out me, And then pafs by, as if you knew me not.
Gof. But what will that advantage thee ?
Claufe. Oh, much, Sir. 'Twill give me the preheminence of the refl> Make me a king among 'em, and protedt me From all abufe fuch as are ilronger might Offer my age. Sir, at your better leiiure I will in form 'you further of the good It may do to me*
Gof. 'Troth, thou mak'fl me wonder ! Have you a king and commonwealth among you ?
Claufe. We have, and there are ilates are govern'd worfe.
Gof. Ambition among beggars ?
Claufe. Many great ones
Would part with half their flates, to have the place, And credit, to beg in the firft file, mailer. But mall I be fo much bound to your furtherance In my petition ?
Gof. That thou (halt not mifs of, Nor any worldly care make me forget it : I will be early there.
Claufe. Heav'n blefs my mailer ! [Exeunt.
€04 ACT
4oS B E G G A R S' BUSH,
A C T II. S C E N E I.
Enter Higgen, Ferret, Prigg, Claufe, Jaculin, Snap, Ginks, and other beggars.
Higgen. jT^\ O M E, princes of the ragged regiment ; V^ You of the blood, Prigg, my moft up right lord,
And thefe, what name or title e'er they bear, Jarkman 8, or patrico, cranke, or clapper dudgeon, Prater, or abram-man -, I fpeak to all That {land in fair election for the title Of King, of Beggars, with the command adjoining ; Higgen, your orator, in this inter-regnum, That whilom was your dommerer, doth befeech you All to fland fair, and put yourfelves in rank, That the firft comer may, at his firft view, Make a free choice, to fay up the queftion 9.
Per. Prigg. 'Tis done, lord Higgen,
Hig. Thanks to prince Prigg, prince Ferret.
Fer. Well, pray, my rnafters all, Ferret be cholen ; Ye're like to have a merciful mild prince of me.
Prigg. A very tyrant I, an arrant tyrant, If e'er I come to reign (therefore look to't I) Except you do provide me hum enough, And lour to bouze with ! I muft have my capons
8 Jarkman, &V.] As the frequent occurrence of the references from the cant terms muft occafion a confufion in the text, we have thought it moft advifeable to infert the explanations of thofe terms at the end of the play, where the reader will find them arranged alphabetically.
9, To fay up the queftion^ Mr. Seward reads, To- fave us further queftion. His alteration, though fenfe, is unwarranted and licentious ; yet to fay up is uncouth and obfcure ; tho' it may fignify, deciding the queftion , by faying which he (the firft comer) thinks the honefteft of them.
And
BEGGARS' B Uf S Ft 469
And turkies brought me in, with my green geefe, And ducklings in the feafon ; fine fat chickens ; Or, if you chance where an eye of tame pheafants Or partridges are kept, fee they be mine : Or itraight I feize on all your privilege, Places, revenues, offices, as forfeit, Call in your crutches, wooden legs, falfe bellies, Forc'd eyes and tongues I0, with your dead arms ;
not leave you
A dirty clout to beg with on your heads, Or an old rag with butter, frankincenfe, Brimftone and refin, birdlime, blood, and cream, To make you an old fore •, not fo much fope As you may foam with i' th' falling-ficknefs -9 The very bag you bear, and the brown dim, Shall be efcheated. All your daintier! dells too I will deflower, and take your deareil doxies From your warm fides ; and then fome one cold night I'll watch you what old barn you go to rooft in, And there I'll fmother you all i'th' mufty hay.
/%. This is tyrant-like indeed : But what would
Ginks, Or Claufe be here, if either of them mould reign ?
Claufe. Beft afk an afs, if he were made a camel, What he would be •, or a dog, an he were a lion !
Ginks. I care not what you are, Sirs, I mail be A beggar ftill, Pm fure ; I find myfelf there ".
10 Forced eyes and teeth.] By forc'd eyes I fuppofe are meant, eyes fo diftorted as to mew only the white, fo that the perfon appears blind j but what^rrV/4r/l can mean, I cannot conceive ; it is faid to be common with beggars to force their tongues into their throats, fo that they fhall appear to be cut off. I think therefore my conjec ture highly probable. Seward*
Altho' there may be a means of deception by falfe teeth as well as forced tongues, yet we have admitted Mr. Seward's variation, becaufe the trick with the tongue is faid to be fo frequent, that there is a name given to the pradticers of this impofture ; /. e. dommerers.
11 1 find myfelf 'there. .] Ginks was a nobleman in difguiie ; he feems therefore to regret his long continuance in beggary, and to fear it wilj be for life. 1 find twf elf there, or in that ftaie. Sp>warJ.
Enter
4io BEGGARS* BUSH.
Enter Gofwin.
Snap. Oh, here a judge comes.
Hig. Cry, a judge, a judge!
Gof. What ail you, Sirs ? what means this outcry ?
Big. Matter,
A fort of poor fouls met ; God's fools, good mailer j Have had fome little variance 'mongil ourfelves Who mould be honefteft of us, and which lives Uprightefl in his calling : Now, 'caufe we thought We ne'er mould 'gree on't ourfelves, becaufe indeed 'Tis hard to fay •, we all difiblv'd IJ to put it To him that mould come next, and that's your matter-
fhip,
Who, I hope, will 'termine it as your mind ferves you. Right, and no otherwife we afk it : Which, Which does your worihip think is he? Sweet matter, Look o'er us all, and tell us ; we are feven of us, Like to the feven wife matters, or the planets.
Gof. I mould judge this the man, with the grave
beard ; And if he be not
Claufe. Blefs you, good matter, blefs you !
Gof. I would he were. There's fomething too amongft
you, To keep you all honefL [Exit.
'* We ^//diflblv'd ] I rather think this a miftake of the prefs, than a defigned blunder, which would be proper to an ignorant clown ; but not to fo arch a beggar as Higgen, whofe congratulatory fpeech, in the two next pages, has as much burlefque humour in it as almoft any thing ev'n in Hudibras ; who evidently imitated it in his defcription of his hero's beard. In the latter part of it, there's a banter on Shakefpeare's prophecy of queen Elizabeth and king James at the end of Harry the Eighth, but fo elegant and pretty that it could give no offence. Seaward.
Mr. Seward alters diffolev*d to refold d', but Higgen fpeaks bar- baroufly here, becaufe, on the appearance of a ftranger, he aflumes the ilile of a beggar, e.g. ''terming it, in the next line or two. So alter- wards (and it is acknowledged to be part of their table of laws) to — — — — keep afoot
The humble and the common ft He of begging, Left men difco-'vtr us. bee p. 413.
Snap.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 411
Snap. King of Heav'n go with you !
Omn. Now good reward him -, May he never want it, to comfort (till the poor, In a good hour \
Fer. What is't ? fee : Snap has got itf,
Snap. A good crown, marry, v Prigg' A crown of gold.
Fer. For our new king : Good luck.
Ginks. To the common treafury with it -, if *t be gold, Thither it muft,
Prigg> Spoke like a patriot, Ginks I4 ! King Claufe, I bid God fave thee firft, firft, Claufe, After this golden token of a crown. Where's oratorHiggen with his gratulating fpeech now, ,In all our names ?
Fer. Here he is, pumping for it.
Ginks. H'has cough'd the fecond time ; 'tis but once
more, And then it comes.
Fer. So, out v/ith all ! Exped now
Hig. That thou art chofen, venerable Claufe, Our king and fovereign, monarch o'th' maunders, Thus we throw up our nob-cheats, firft for joy, And then our filches -, laft, we clap our j "ambles, Three fubject figns, we do it without envy; For who is he here did not wifti thee chofen, Now thou art chofen ? Aflc 'em •, all will fay fo, Nay fwear't ; 'tis for the king •, but let that pafk. When laft in conference at the bouzing ken, This other day we fat about our dead prince Of famous memory (reft go with his rags !) And that I faw thee at the table's end Rife mov'd, and gravely leaning on one crutch, Lift t'other like a fceptre at my head,
J4- Spoke like a patriot, Ferret—} As this has neither paffion nor accident to interrupt it, I can ice no reafon to fuppofe it a broken one. I believe it a meer accidental miftake in the name Ferret for Ginks. The firft Editors not fufpecling this intended to folve the difficulty by putting a break or dafh to iu SewarJ.
I then
4i2 BEGGARS' B U S rf.
I then prefag'd thou fhortly wonldft be king, And now thou art fo. But what need prefage To us, that might have read it in thy beard, As well as he that chofe thee ? By that beard Thou wert found out, and mark'd for fovereignty. Oh, happy beard ! but happier prince, whofe beard Was fo remark'd, as marked out our prince, Not bating us a hair. Long may it grow, And thick, and fair, that who lives under it May live as fafe as under Beggars' Bum, Of which this is the thing, that but the type.
Omn. Excellent, excellent orator ! Forward, good
Higgen ! Give him leave to fpit. The fine well-fpoken Higgen !
Hig. This is the beard, the bum, or bufhy-beard> Under whofe gold and filver reign 'twas faid, So many ages fince, we all fhould fmile. No impofitions, taxes, grievances, Knots in a ftate, and whips unto a fubject, Lie lurking in this beard, but all kemb'd I5 out : If now the beard be fuch, what is the prince That owes the beard16? A father? no, a grand- father, Nay, the great- grand-father, of you his people! He wiil not force away your hens^ your bacon> When you have ventur'd hard for't, nor take from you The fatteft of your puddings : Under him, Each man mall eat his own ftol'n eggs, and butter, In his own made, or fun-mine, and enjoy His own dear dell, doxy, or mort, at night In his own ftraw, with his own fhirt, or fheet, That he hathjilcb'd that day-, ay, and poiTefs What he can purchafe, back, or belly-cheats, To his own prop : He will have no purveyors For pigs, and poultry
Claufe. That we muft have, my learned orator,
T* Kemb'd.'} i e. Combed. It is generally fo written in our ancient authors R.
16 That ow's the beard.] Owe in the fcnfe of own, or pofiefs, is verv common in all the old writers. Seward.
It
BEGGARS' BUSH. 413
It is our wjll ; and every man to keep In his own path and circuit.
Big. Do you hear ? YOU muft hereafter maund on your own pads, he fays.
Claufe. And what they get there, is their own:
Befides, To give good words.
Hig. Do you mark ? To cut been whids ; That is the fecond law.
Claufe. And keep afoot
The humble and the common phrafe of begging, 3L,eft men difcover us.
Hig. Yes, and cry fometimes, To move companion. Sir, there is a table, That doth command all thefe things, and enjoins. 'em Be perfect in their crutches, their feign'd plaifters, And their torn pafTports, with the ways to ftammer, And to be dumb, and deaf, and blind, and lame. There, all the halting paces are fet down, F th' learned language.
Claufe. Thither I refer 'em ; Thofe you at leifure fhall interpret to 'em : We love no heaps of laws, where few will ferve.
Omn. Oh, gracious prince ! 'Save, 'fave the good king Claufe !
Hig. A fong to crown him !
per. Set a centinel out firft.
Snap. The word ?
Big. A cove comes, zndfumbumbis to it. [Ex. Snap.
[Strikt.
THE S Q N G.
Caft our caps and cares away : This is beggars' holyday I At the crowning of our king, Thus we ever dance and fing. In the world look out and fee, Where's fo happy a prince as he ? Where the nation lives fo free. And fo merry as do we ?
Be
4H BEGGARS' BUSH.
Be it peace, or be it war, Here at liberty we are, And enjoy our eafe and reft : To the field we are not prefs'd -? Nor are call'd into the town, To be troubled with the gown. Hang all offices, we cry, And the magiftrate too, by ; When the fubfidy's encreas'd, We are not a penny fefs'd. Nor will any go to law With the beggar for a ftraw. All which happinefs he brags, r He doth owe unto his rags.
Enter Snap, and then Hubert and Hempjkirkc.
Snap. A cove ! fufabumbis ! Prigg. To your poftures ! arm ! Hub. Yonder's the town : I fee it. Hemp. There's our danger, Indeed, afore us, if our fhadows *7 fave not, Hig. Blefs your good worfhips !
Per. One fmall piece of money
Prigg. Among us all poor wretches.
Claufe. Blind, and lame.
Ginks. For his fake that gives all.
Hig. Pitiful worfhips !
Snap. One little doit.
Enter Jaculin.
Jac. King, by your leave ! where are you ? Per. To buy a little bread. Hig. To feed fo many Mouths, as will ever pray for you. Prigg. Here be feven of us. Hig. Seven, good mailer ! oh, remember feven !
Seven blefllngs-
Shado zo.] /. e. Dtfguifes.
Per.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 415
Per. Remember, gentle worfhip.
Hig. 'Gainft feven deadly fins* , Prigg. And feven Qeepers.
Hig. If they be hard of heart, and will give nothing — > Alas, we had not a charity thefe three days.
Hub. There's amongft you all.
Fer. Heav'n reward you !
Prigg. Lord reward you !
Hig. The prince of pity blefs thee !
Hub. Do I fee ? or is't my fancy that would have
it fo ? Ha, 'tis her face ! Come hither, maid.
Jac. What ha* you,
Bells for my fquirrel ? I ha' giv'n bun meat. You do not love me, do you ? Catch me a butterfly, And I'll love you again. When ? can you tell ? Peace, we go a-birding. I mall have a fine thing ! [Exit.
Hub. Her voice too fays the fame •, but, for my head, I would not that her manners were fo chang'd. Hear me, thou honed fellow I what's this maiden, That lives amongft you here ?
Ginks. Ao, ao, ao, ao.
Hub. How ? nothing but figns ?
Ginks. Ao, ao, ao, ao.
Hub. This is ftrange ! I would fain have it her, but not her thus.
Hig. He is de-de-de-de-de-de-deaf, and du-du-dude — dumb, Sir.
Hub. 'Slid, they did all fpeak plain ev'n now, me*
thought. Doft thou know this fame maid ?
Snap. Whi-whi-whi-whi- which, gu - gu - gu - gu*
God's fool ? She was bo-bo-bo-bo-born at the barn yonder, by be-
be-be-be-Beggars' Bufh.bo-bo-Bum, Her name is mi-mi-mi-mi-mi-Minche l8. So w.as her mo-mo-mo-mother's too- too.
[8 Her name is my-my match.] We at firft thought match to
to be a corruption of Madge ; but as Jaculin is in other parts of the play called Mincbc, we fuppofe it merely a typographical error.
Hub.
416 B E G G A R S' BUS H.
Hub. I underftand no word he fays ; how long Has fhe been here ?
Snap. Lo-lo-long enough to be ni-ni-nigled, an fhq ha? go-go-go-good luck.
Hub. I muil be better inform'd, than by this way. Here was another face too, that I mark'd Of the old man's : But they are vanifh'd all Moft fuddenly : I will come here again. Oh, that I were fo happy as to find it What I yet hope, it is put on !
Hemp. What mean you, Sir, To ftay there with that ftammerer ?
Hub. Farewell, friend ! It will be worth return, to fearch. Come, Protect us our difguife now ! Prithee, Hempfkirke, If we be taken, how doft thou imagine This town will ufe us, that hath flood fo long Out againft Wolfort ?
Hemp. Ev'n to hang us forth Upon their walls a- funning, to make crows' meat, If I were not aflur'd o9 th' burgomafler, And had a pretty excufe to fee a niece there, J mould fcarce venture.
Hub. Come, 'tis now too late To look back at the ports. Good luck, and enter !
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
•
'Enter Gofwin.
Qof. Still blow'lt thou there ? And, from all other
parts,
Do all my agents deep, that nothing comes ? There's a confpiracy of winds, and fervants, If not of elements, to ha' me break ! What (hould I think ? Unlefs the feas and fands Had fwallow'd up my mips, or fire had fpoil'd My warehoufes, or death devour'd my fadors? J mull ha' had fome returns.
Enter
BEGGARS' BUSH. 417
Enter two Merchants. \ Mer. 'Save you, Sir. Gof. 'Save you*
i Mer. No news yet o' your mips ? Gof. Not any yet, Sir.
1 Mer. 'Tis ftrange. [Exit. Gof. 'Tis true, Sir. What a voice was here now ?
This was one paffing-bell ; a thoufand ravens Sung in that man now, to prefage my ruins.
2 Mer. Gofwin, good day 1 Thefe winds are very
conftant.
Gof, They are fo, Sir, to hurt
2 Mer. Ha' you had no letters Lately from England, nor from Denmark ?
Gof. Neither.
2 Mer. This wind brings them. Nor no news over
land, Through Spain, from the Straits ?
Gof. Not any.
2 Mer. I am forry, Sir. [Exit.
Gof. They talk me down •, and, as 'tis faid of vultures, They fcent a field fought, and do fmell the carcafles By many hundred iniks : So do thefe my wrecks, At greater diftances. Why, thy Will, Heav'n '9, Come on, and be ! Yet, if thou pleafe preferve me But in my own adventure here at home, Of my chafle love, to keep me worthy of her, It mall be put in fcale 'gainft all ill fortunes : 1 am not broken yet ; nor mould I fall, Methinks, with lefs than that -3 that ruins all, [Exit-
J9 Why, thy will, Heaven, &c.] This fpeech, as pointed in the old books, is rather obfcure ; but die meaning we take to be flmply this : ' Thy will, Heaven, be done ! yet, if thou pleafe to preferve
* me in my venture at home, that will counter- balance all my wrecks
* at fea. With lefs than that failure, I caniiot be undone ; but that
* would ruin me indeed.'
VOL, II. Dd SCENE
418 B E G G A R S' ' B U S H.
SCENE III.
EnterVandunke^ Hubert, Hempjkirke^ Mar gar et^ and Boors. Vand. Captain, you're welcome; fois this your friend, Moft fafely welcome •, though our town ftand out Againft your mafter, you lhall find good quarter : The troth is, we not love him. Meg I9, fome wine ! Let's talk a little treafon, if we can Talk treafon, 'gainft the traitors ; by your leave, gen tlemen,
We, here in Bruges, think he does ufurp, And therefore Pm bold with him.
Hub. Sir, your boldnefs
Happily becomes your mouth, but not our ears, While we're his fervants ; and as we come here, Not to afk queftions, walk forth on your walls, Vifit your courts of guard, view your munition, Afk of your corn-provifions, nor enquire Into the leaft, as fpies upon your ftrengths ; So lers entreat, we may receive from you Nothing in paiTage or difcourfe, but what We may with gladnefs, and our honefties, hear ; And th.it mail feal our welcome.
Vand. Good : Let's drink then. Madge, fill out ! I keep mine old pearl Hill, cap tan
Marg. I Hang fail,' -man.
Hemp. Old jewels commend their keeper, Sir.
Vand. Here's to you \vith ?, heart, my captain's frieru With a good heart ! and if this make us fpeak . Bold words anon, 'tis ail under the rofe, Forgotten : Drown all memory, when we drink \
Hub. ' Jis freely fpoken, noble Burgomafter j I'll do you right.
Hemp. Nay, Sir, minheer Vandunke Is a true flatefman.
J9 Meg."} We have followed the firft copy in the feveral' names Vandunke's wife is called by. The latter edition?, in all places, call her Margaret, at length ; never making ufe of the familiar abbreviations.
Var '
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 419
Vand. Fill my captain's cup there ! Oh, that your matter Wolfort had been an honeil man !
Hub. Sir!
Vand. Under the rofe.
Hemp. Here's to you, Marget,
Marg. Welcome, welcome, captain.
Vand. Well faid, rhy pearl, flill,
Hemp. And how does my niece ? Almoft a woman, I think ? This friend of tnme I drew along with me, through fo much hazard^ Only to fee her : She was my errand.
Vand. Ay, a kind uncle you are (fill him his glafs) That in feven years could not find leifure- — -
Hemp. No, It's not fo much.
Vand. F1I bate you ne'er an hour on't: It was before the Brabander 'gan his war, For moon-mine in the water there, his daughter That ne'er was loft : Yet you could not find time To fee a kinfwoman : But me is worth the feeing, Sir, Now you are come. You afk if fhe were a woman"? •She is a woman, Sir, (fetch her forth, Margee !) And a fine woman, and has fuitors. [Ex. Marg.
Hemp. How ? What fuitors are they ?
Vand. Bachelors-, young burghers : And one, a gallant ; the young prince of merchants We call him here in Bruges.
Hemp. How ? a merchant ?
I thought, Vandunke, you had underftood me better, And my niece too, fo trufted to you by me, Than to admit of fuch in name of fuitors.
Vand. Such ? He is fuch a fuch, as, were flic mine, I'd give him thirty thoufand crowns with her.
Hemp. But the fame things, Sir, fit not you and me.
[Exit.
Vand. Why, give's jfome wine, then ; this will fit
us all. Here's to you ftill, my captain's friend, all out !
X) d 2 And
420 B E G G A R S' B U S It
And ftill, 'would Wolfort were an honeft man f
Under the rofe I fpcak it. But this merchant
Is a brave boy : He lives fo, in the town here,
We know not what to think on him : At fome times
We fear he will be bankrupt •, he does ftretch,
Tenter his credit fo ; embraces all ;
And to't, the winds have been contrary long.
But then, if he mould have all his returns,
We think- he would be a king, and are half fure on't.
Your mafter is a traitor, for all this,
Under the rofe (here's to you ! ) and ufurps
The earldom from a better man.
Hub. Ay, marry, Sir, Where is that man ?
Vand. Nay, foft ! An I could tell you, *Tis ten to one I would not. Here's my hand ! I love not Wolfort : Sit you ftill, with that. Here comes my captain again, and his fine niecev And there's my merchant ; view him well. Fill wine here!
Enter Hempjkirke, Gertrude and Gofwin.
Hemp. You rnuft not only know me for your uncle- Now, but obey me : You, go caft yourfelf Away, upon a dunghill here ! a merchant ! A petty fellow ! one that makes his trade With oaths and perjuries !
Gof. What is that you fay, Sir ? If it be me you fpeak of, as your eye Seems to direct, I wifh you'd fpeak to me, Sir.
Hemp. Sir, I do fay, me is.no merchandize -9 Will that fuffice you ?
Gof. Merchandize, good Sir ? Tho' you be kinfman to her, take no leave thence To ufe me with contempt : I ever thought Your niece above all price.
Hemp. And do fo ftill, Sir. I allure yon, her rate's at more than you are worth;
Gof. You don't know what a gentleman's worth, Sirr . :
Nor I
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 421
Nor can you value him. Hub. Well faid, merchant ! Vand. Nay, Let him alone, and ply your matter.
Hemp. A gentleman ?
What, of the wool-pack ? or the fugar-cheft ?-- Or lifts of velvet ? Which is't, pound, or yard, You vent your gentry by ? Hub. Oh, Hempfkirke, fy ! Vand. Come, do not mind 'em -, drink ! He is no
Wolfort io, Captain, I advife you.
Hemp* Alas, my pretty man, I think't be angry, by it's look : Come hither, Turn this way a little : If it were the blood Of Charlemaiae, as't may, for aught I know,
,Be fome good botcher's ifTue, here in Bruges
Gof. How ?
Hemp. Nay, I'm not certain' of that •, of this I am, If it once buy and fell, it's gentry's gone. Gof. Ha, ha !
Hemp. You're angry, though you laugh. Gof. No, now 'tis pity
Of your poor argument. Do not you, the lords Of land, (if you be any) fell the grafs,
The corn, the ftraw, the milk, the cheefe
Vand. And butter : Remember butter -9 do not leave out butter.
Gof. The beefs and muttons, that your grounds
are ftor'd with ? Swine, with the very maft, befide the woods j?
20 — He is no Wolfort ;
Captain, 1 advife you] Vandunfa blames Hubert for interfering, and immediately does it himfelf, but I take it to be an accidental omiflion of the fpeaker. It is not probable that Gofiuin mould make no return to the feoffs above, and a broken fpeech feems quite proper to him. Seaward.
We think this variation unneceffary and improper. No perfon calls Hempfoirke Captain but Vandunke, and he calls him fo all through the lait fcene. From Hempfkirke' s next fpeech it Ihould feem, that £ofwin's looks had chiefly teilified his anger.
D d 3
422 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Hemp. No, for thofe fordid ufes we have tenants, Or elle our bailiffs.
Gof. Have not we, Sir, chapmen, And factors, then, to anfwer thefe ? Yonr honour^ Fetch'd from the heralds' ABC, and laid over ' With your court faces, once an hour, mail never Make me miflake myfelf. Do not your lawyers Sell all their practice, as your priefts their prayers ? What is not bought and fold ? The company That you had laft, what had you for't, i'faith ?
Hemp. You now grow faucy.
Gof. Sure21, I have been bred Still with my honeft liberty, and muft life it,
Hemp. Upon your equals then.
Gof. Sir, he that will Provoke me firft, doth make himfelf my equal,
Hemp. Do you hear ? No more !
Gof. Yes, Sir, this little, I pray you, And't mail be afide •, then, after, as you pleafe ! You appear the uncle, Sir, to .her I love More than mine eyes ; and I have heard your fcorns With fo much fcoffing, and with fo much fhame, As each ftrive which is greater : But, believe me, I fuck'd not in this patience with my milk. Do not prefume, becaufe you fee me young j Or cart defpites on my profeflion, For the civility and tamenefs of it. A good man bears a contumely worfe Than he would do an injury. Proceed not To my offence : Wrong is not ftill fuccefsful ; Indeed it is not. I would approach your kinfwoman With all refpedt done to yourfelf and her.
Hemp. Away, companion ! handling her ? take that.
[Strikes him,
ai Sure 1 have been bred."] This reading, if admitted, would make him doubt whether he had been bred with an honeit liberty or no. But I believe it a mere typographical error. Steward.
Mr. Seward reads, S i R, I have been bred, &c. Sure does not imply doubt, but affirmation. We have, therefore, followed the old copies.
Gof.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 423
Gof. Nay, I do love no blows, Sir : There's exchange !
[He gets H.emfc/kirke'sfwordi and cuts him on the head.
Hub. Hold, Sir!
Marg. Oh, murder !
Gert. Help my Gofwin.
Marg. Man !
Vand. Let Jem alone. My life for one !
Gof. Nay, come, If you have will.
Hub. None to offend you I, Sir.
Gof. He that had, thank himfelf ! Not hand her ?
Yes, Sir,
And clafp her, and embrace her ; and (would me Now go with me) bear her thro' all her race, Her father, brethren, and her uncles, arm'd, And all their nephews, tho5 they flood a wood Of pikes, and wall of cannon ! Kifs me, Gertrude ! Quake not, but kifs me 1
Vand. Kifs him, girl ; I bid you. My merchant-royal I Fear no uncles! Hang 'em. Hang up all uncles ! Are we not in Bruges ? Under the rofe here ?
Gof. In this circle, love, Thou art as fafe as in a tower of brafs. Let fuch as do wrong, fear.
Vand, Ay, that's good ; Let Wolfort look to that.
Gof. Sir, here me ftands.
Your niece, and my belov'd. One of thcfe titles She mufl apply to : If unto the laft, Not all the anger can be lent unto her, In frown, or voice, or other ad ", (hall force her, Had Hercules a hand in't ! Come, my joy, Say thou art mine aloud, love, and profefs it.
Vand. Do ; and I drink to it.
Gof. Prithee fay fo, love,
" Other art.] Mr. Theobald corrected this. I have known feveral inftances of this miftake between art and aft, and tho* the former wight be fenfe here, the latter is much better. StwarJ. .
D d 4 Cert.
424 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Gerf. 'Twould take away the honour from my
blufhes; (Do not you play the tyrant, fweet !) they fpeak it.
Hemp. I thank you, niece.
Gof. Sir, thank her for your life ;. And fetch your fwcrd within.
Hemp. You iqfult too much With your good fortune, Sir. [Exeunt Gof. and Gert.
Hub. A brave clear fpirit ! Hempfkirke, you were to blame : A civil habit Oft covers a good man •, and you may meet, In perfon of a merchant, with a foul As reiblute and free, and all ways worthy, As elfe in any file of mankind. Pray you, "What meant you fo to flight him ?
Hemp. 'Tis done now ; Afk no more of it 5 I mull fufFer. [Exit,
Hub. This
Is ftiil the punimment of rafhnefs, forrow. Well, I muft to the woods, for nothing here Will be got out. There I may chance to learn Somewhat to help my enquiries further,
Vand. Ha! A looking-glafs *3 !
Hub. How now, brave Burgomafler ?
Vand. I love no Wolforts, and my name's Vand unke.
Hub. Van-drunk it's rather. Come, go'fleep within,
Vand. Earl Florez is right heir ; and this fame
Wolfort, Under the rofe I fpeak it
Hub. Very hardly.
Vand. Ufurps ; and a rank traitor, as e'er breath'd, And all that do uphold him. Let me go ; No man mall hold me up a4, that upholds him.
*J A looking- glafs ] Dees not Vandunke here, now grown quite fuddled, call for an utenfil at this day known among drinkers by the name of a looking-glafs?
** No man fiall bold he.] That he mould be me is certain, but the Want of a fyllable in the verfe, makes it probable that one was loft,
which
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 425
Do you uphold him ? Hub. No. Vand. Then hold me up. [Exeunt.
Enter Gofwin and Hempjkirke.
Hemp. Sir, I prefume you have a fword of your own, That can fo handle another's.
Gof. Faith, you may, Sir.
Hemp. And you've made me have fo much better
thoughts of you, As I am bound to call you forth,
Gof. For what, Sir ?
Hemp. To the repairing of mine honour, and hurt here,
Gof. Exprefs your way.
Hemp. By fight, and fpeedily.
Gof. You have your will. Require you any more ?
Hemp. That you be fecret, and come fingle,
Gof. I will.
Hemp. As you're the gentleman you would bq thought !
Gof. Without the conjuration: And I'll bring Only my fword, which I will fit to yours. I'll take its length within.
Hemp. Your place now, Sir ?
Gof. By the fand-hills.
Hemp. Sir, nearer to the woods, If you thought fo, were fitter.
Gof. There, then. ... ^
Hemp. Good. Your time ?
which I hope I have retrieved, for the particle added greatly improves Jioneft Vandunke's drunken humour. Mr. Sympfon has fince fent me the fame correction. Seaward.
The firft copy reads, me ; we are not, therefore, indebted tc Mr. Seward for that amendment. But the propriety of the inferted fyl- Jable, up, is confirmed by what immediately follows :
Vand . Do you HP-HOLD him ?
Hub. No.
Vand. Then HOLD me UP.
Gtf,
426 B E G G A R S' BUSH,
Gof. 'Twixt feven and eight.
Hemp. You'll give me, Sir, Caufe to report you worthy of my niece, Jf you come, like your promife.
Gof. If I do not,
Let no man think to call me unworthy firft ! I'll do't myfelf, and juftly wim to want her. [Exeunt.
ACT III. SCENE I.
Enter three or four Boors.
. /^OME, Englifh beer, hoftefs, Englilh beer
VJ by th' barrel 2S {
2 Boor. Stark beer, boy, ftoyt and ftrong beer !
So, fit down, lads,
And chink me upfey-Dutch ! Frolick, and fear not.
^— Enter
** Englijh beer by th" belly.] As I can make no fenfe of this, I fup- pofe it a miftake and read barrel. But what is upfey-£)utch ?
Sympfon.
This odd exprefllon occurs in the Akhemiil of Ben Jonfon, aft iv. fcene vi. upon which paffage Mr. Whalley gives us the following note :
' Mr. Sympfon a&s, ' What is upfee-Dutch ?"* to which Mr. Sewarci
* replies, • I wifh I could anfwer Mr. Sympfon's queftion \ but I can " find no fuch word in any di&ionary or gloffary of mine.' The ex- ' preffion, with a little difference, occurs again, in the fourth fcene ' of the fourth aft of the fame play ; and is applied to a wafTel :
« Prig.^ 1 for thejirufiure,
' Which is the bowl.
* Hig. Which tnuft he upfey-Englilh, ' Strong* lujly London beer.
* Indeed, no dictionary or gloffary will help us to the phrafe; but I f will endeavour to affign a meaning, which, as it gives a conMent ' fenfe to thefe different places, may probably be the true one. It is ' a proverbial expreifion, and is ufed as proverbs frequently are, in
* fome little latitude of fenfe. In Jonfon, V/V upfey-Dutch, fignifies
* it is Ijke a drunken Dutchman's eye, your eye is dull and hath a heavy
BEGGARS' BUSH. 427
Enter Higgen, like afow-gelder, Jtnging.
flig. Have ye any work for the fow-gelder, hoa ? My horn goes to high to low, to high to low J Have ye any pigs, calves, or colts, Have ye any lambs in your holts, To cut for the ftone ? Here comes a cunning one. Have ye any braches to fpade,
Or e'er a fair maid jjfe That would be a nun ?
Come, kifs me, 'tis done. Hark, how my merry horn doth blow, To high to low, to high to low !
j Boor. Oh, excellent ! Two-pence a-piece, boys,
two-pence a-piece ! Give the boy fome drink there ! Piper, whet your
whittle ! Canlt tell me a way now, how to cut off my wife's
concupifcence ? Hig. I'll ling you a fong for't,
* caft, like a Dutchman's in liquor, or, as we fay proverbially, ' Who is feas over.' That is the original of the phriife :' Upfee is a
* corruption from the Dutch op- zee, which is literally o<ver-fea ; and 'tis probable we borrowed that proverb from Holland, in Fletcher, the phrafe to drink upfee-Dutch, means to drink as Dutchmen, or the fame liquor which they do, 'till we are drunk like them : The other term mult in like manner be explained by the epithet Englim ; fo that upfey-Engli/b, is drinking the liquor which Englimmen ufually get drunk with ; and that is truly explained in the following line
* to be Itrong beer.'
To this explanation of Mr. Whalley's we {hall only add, that the
word upfee appears to have been well underftood in our Authors' time,
as applicable to drunkennefs. In a pamphlet by Thomas Dekker,
entitled, The Seven Deadly Sinnes of London, 1606, 4to. we find
the following paffage, p. 3. * The day was proclaymed holiday in all
the wardes ; every prifoner fwore if he would ftay amongft them,
they would take no order about their debts, becaufe they would lye
by it too ; and for that purpofe fwarmed about him like bees about
comfit makers, and were drunke according to all the learned rules
of drunkennes, as upfy-freeze> crambo, parmizant, &c. the pimples
of this ranck and full-humor'd joy rifing thus in their faces, &c. R.
S O N G,
428 B E G G A R S' BUSH, SON G.
Take her, and hug her,
And turn her, and tug her, And turn her again, boy, again j
Then if fhe mumbk,
Or if her tail tumble, Kifs her amain, boy, amain !
Do thy endeavour
To take off her fever, Then her difeafe no longer will reign,
If nothing will ferve her,
Then thus to preferve her, JSwinge her amain, boy, amain !
Give her cold jelly,
To take up her belly, ,And once a day fwinge her again.
If me fland all thefe pains,
Then knock out her brains, Jrler difeafe no longer will reign.
j Boor. More excellent, more excellent, fweet fow. gelder!
2 Boor. Three-pence a-piece, three-pence a-piece ! fftg. Will you hear a fong how the devil was gelded ?
3 Boor. Ay, ay ; let's hear the devil roar, ibw-gelder !
SONG.
He ran at me firft in the fhape of a ram, And over and over the fow- gelder came ; I rofe and I halter'd him faft by the horn, I pluck'd out his {tones, as you'd pick out a corn. Baa ! quoth the devil, and forth he flunk, And left us a carcafs of mutton that flunk. The next time, I rode a good mile and a half, Where I heard he did live in difguife of a calf; J bound and I gelt him, ere he did any evil ; fie was here at his beft but a young fucking devil, Maa ! yet he cry'd, and forth he did fteal, this was fold after for excellent veal.
Some
BEGGARS' BUSH. 429
Some half a year after, in form of a pig, I met with the rogue, and he look'd very big •, I catch'd at his leg, laid him down on a log, Ere a man could fart twice, I had made him a hogr Owgh ! quoth the devil, and forth gave a jerk, That a jew was converted, and eat of the perk.
1 Boor. Groats a-piece, groats a-piece, groats a-piece! There, fweet fow-gelder !
Enter Prigg and Ferret.
Prigg. Will ye fee any feats of activity, Some flight of hand, legerdemain ? Hey, pafs, Prefto, be gone there f
2 Boor. Sit down, juggler I
Prigg- 'Sirrah, play you your art well. Draw near.
Piper !
Look you, my honeft friends, you fee my hands ; Plain-dealing is no devil. Lend me fome money j.' Twelve-pence a-piece will fervc. i, 2 Boor. There, there ! Prigg. I thank ye, Thank ye heartily ! When fhall I pay ye ?
All Boor. Ha, ha, ha ! by th' mafs, this was a fine- trick. Prigg. A merry flight toy ! But now I'll Ihew your
worfhips A trick indeed.
Hig. Mark him well now, my matters f
Prigg. Here are three balls ; thefe balls fhall be
three bullets,
One, two, and three: Aftentilus^ makntibus. Prefto, be gone ! They are vanifh'd. Fair play, gen tlemen ! Now, thefe three, like three bullets, from your three
nofes
Will I pluck prefently. Fear not,, no harm, boys ! tfitere, tu patul*.
i Boor. Oh, oh, oh !
4go BEGGARS' B U S H.
Prigg. Recubans fub jermine fagi.
2 Boor. You pull too hard j you pull too hard ! Prigg. Stand fair then,
Silver-tram trim-tram.
3 Boor. Hold, hold, hold !
Prigg. Corne aloft, bullets three, with a whim- wham ! Have ye their monies ? [Apart to Higgm and Ferret* Big. Yes, yes.
1 Boor. Oh, rare juggler \
2 Boor. Oh, admirable juggler! Prigg. One trick more yet.
Hey, come aloft ! £z, fa, flim, flum, taradumbis ! Eaft, Weft, North, South, now fly like Jack with
a bumbis ! Now all your money's gone : Pray, fearch your pockets*
1 Boor. Humh !
2 Boor. He!
3 Boor. The devil a penny's here ! Prigg. This was a rare trick.
i Boor. But 'twould be a far rarer to reftore it.
Prigg. I'll do ye that too, Look upon me earneftly, And move not any ways your eyes from this place, This button here. Pow, whir, whifs ! Shake your pockets.
i Boor. By th* mafs, 'tis here again, boys.
Prigg. Reft ye merry ! My firft trick has paid me.
All Boor. Ay, take it, take it, And take fome drink too.
Prigg. Not a drop now, I thank you. Away, we are difcover'd elfe ! [Exeunt. Hig. Pr. Per.
Enter Claufe^ like a blind aquavits-man^ and a boj^
finging tbe fang.
Bring out your cony-ikins, fair maids, to me, And hold 'em fair, that I may fee ; Grey, black, and blue : For your fmaller Ikins, Fll give ye looking-glafies, pins : And for your whole cony, here's ready, ready money.
Come,
BEGGARS' BUSH. 431
Come, gentle Joan, do thou begin
With thy black, black, black cony-fkin.
And Mary then, and Jane will follow,
With their filver-hair'd fkins, and their yellow.
The white cony-fkin I will not lay by,
For, though it be faint, 'tis fair to the eye ;
The grey, it is warm, but yet for my money,
Give me the bonny, bonny black cony.
Come away, fair maids, your fkins will decay :
Come, and take money, maids ; put your ware away.
Cony-fkins ! cony-fkins ! Have ye any cony-fkins ?
1 have fine bracelets, and fine filver pins.
Claufe. Buy any brand wine, buy any brand wine*6 ? Boy. Have ye any cony-fkins ?
2 Boor. My fine canary bird, there's a cake for thy
worfhip.
i Boor. Come, fill, fill, fill, fill fuddenly ! Let's fee,Sir, What's this ?
Claufe. A penny, Sir.
i Boor. Fill till't be fix-pence, And there's my pig.
Boy. This is a counter, Sir.
1 Boor. A counter ! Stay ye ; what are thefe then ? Oh, execrable juggler ! Oh, damn'd juggler ! Look in your hofe,hoa ! this comes of looking forward.
3 Boor. Devil a Dunkirk ! What a rogue's this jug
gler ! This hey pafs, repafs ! h' has repafs'd us fweetly.
2 Boor. Do ye call thefe tricks ?
Enter Higgen.
Uig. Have ye any ends of gold or filver ?
2 Boor. This fellow comes to mock us ! Gold or
filver r cry copper, i Boor. Yes, my good friend,
2(5 Brand wine, ] Quafi brande<vint French. Brandy, and, I believe, other fpirits, are called brand wine, in the Low Countries, to this day. R.
We
432 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
We have e'en an end of all we have.
Hig. 'Tis well, Sir* You have the lefs to care for. Gold and filver ! [Exit.
Enter Prigg.
Prigg. Have ye any old cloaks to fell, have ye any old cloaks to fell ? [Exit.
1 Boor. Cloaks ! Look about ye, boys ; mine's gone !
2 Boor. A Pox juggle 'em *7 !
Pox on their preftoes ! Mine's gone too !
3 Boor. Here's mine yet.
i Boor. Come, come, let's drink then. More brand
wine !
Boy. Here, Sir. i Boor. If e'er I catch your fow-gelder, by this hand
I'll ftrip him.
Were ever fools fo ferkt z8 ? We have two cloaks yet, And all our caps •, the devil take the flincher. AH Boor. Yaw, yaw, yaw, yaw !
Enter Hempjkirke.
Hemp. Good den *9, my honeft fellows ! You're merry here, I fee.
3 Boor. 'Tis all we have left, Sir.
Hemp. What hail thou ? Aquavitae ?
Boy. Yes.
Hemp. Fill out then • And give thefe honeft fellows round.
All Boor. We thank ye.
Hemp. May I fpeak a word in private to ye ?
All Boor. Yes, Sir.
4 7 ^
— — 0' their preftoe$f\ This hiatus very frequently occurs ?n our Authors' plays. We fuppofe they wrote, A pox, 6V. and that a falfe delicacy in the Editors induced them to leave the hiatus. As we have Ihewn (p. 57, of this volume) that, in the days of our Authors/ this word conveyed no grofs or vulgar meaning, we mail not fcruple to infert it wherever fucn hiatus occurs.
1B Ftrkt.] i.e. Cheated, fobbed.
29 G00dfdo'n.] This reading prevailed till 1 750, when Mr. Sevvard, without mention, fubftituteu GWEV'N. The word now inferted in the text, which is ufed, and explained to mean </«y, by Mercutio, in Shakefpeare's Romeo and Juliet, is near that in our old copies.
Hemp.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 433
Hemp. I have a bufinefs for you, honeft friends, If you dare lend vour help, (ball get you crowns.
Claufe. Ha! Lead me a little nearer, boy.
1 Boor. What is't, Sir ?
If it be any thing to purchafe money, {Which is our want) command us.
All Boor. All, all, all, Sir.
Hemp. You know the young fpruce merchant in Bruges ?
2 Boor. Who ? matter Gofwin ? Hemp. That •, he owes me money,
And here in town there is no ftirring of him.
Claufe. Say you fo ? [Afide.
Hemp. This day, upon a fure appointment, He meets me a mile hence, by the chafe-fide, Under the row of oaks -, do you know it ?
All Boor. Yes, Sir.
Hemp. Give 'em more drink ! There, if you dare
but venture,
When I mail give the word, to feize upon him, Here's twenty pound.
3 Boor. Beware the juggler !
ffemp. If he refill, down with him, have no mercy,
i Boor. I warrant you, we'll hamper him.
Hemp. To difcharge you, I have a warrant here about me,
3 Boor. Here's our warrant ; This carries fire i'th' tail.
Hemp. Away with me then ; the time draws on. — 1 muft remove fo infolent a fuitor, And, if he be fo rich, make him pay ranfom Ere he fee Bruges tow'rs again. Thus wife men Repair the hurts they take by a difgrace, And piece the lion's fkin with ths fox's cafe.
Claufe. I'm glad I've heard this fport yet. [Aftde.
Hemp. There's for thy drink. Come, pay the houfe
within, boys, And lofe no time.
Claufe. Away, with all our hafle too! [Exeunt. VOL. II. Ee SCENE
4 34 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
SCENE II.
Enter Gofwin.
Gof. No wind blow fair yet ? No return of monies^ Letters, nor any thing to hold my. hopes up ? Why, then, 'tis deftin'd, that I fall, fall miferably, My credit I was built on, finking with me ! Thou boift'rous North wind, olowing my misfortunes, And frofting all my hopes to cakes of coldnefs, Yet flay thy fury ! Give the gentle South Yet leave to court thofe fails that bring me fafety ! And you, aufpicious fires, bright twins in Heav'n, Dance on the fhrouds ! He blows flill ftubbornly, And on his boift'rous rack rides my fad ruin. There is no help, there qan be now no comfort j To-morrow, with the fun-fet, fets my credit. Oh, mifery ! thou curie of man, thou plague, I'th' midft of all our ftrength, thou ftrikeft us '! My virtuous love is loft too : All, what I have been. No more hereafter to be feen than fhadow ! To prifon now ! Well, yet there's this hope left me ^ I may fink fairly under this day's venture, And fo to-morrow's crofs'd, and all thofe curfes. Yet manly Til invite my fate : Bafe Fortune Shall never fay, me 'as cut my throat in fear. This is the place his challenge call'd rne to, And was a happy one at this time for me j For let me fall before my foe i'th' field, And not at bar, before my creditors ! H' has kept his word. Now, Sir, your fword's tongue
only, Loud as you dare ; all other language
Enter Hempjkirke.
Hemp. Well, Sir, You (hall not be long troubled. Draw !
Gof. 'Tisdone, Sir; ' «*;« And now, have at you !
Hemp. Now !
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 435
Enter Boors. Gof. Betray'd to villains ! Slaves, ye fhall buy me
bravely ! And thou, bafe coward
Enter Claufe and Beggars.
Claufe. Now upon 'em bravely ! Conjure 'em foundly, boys !
Boors. Hold, hold!
Claufe. Lay on, ftill !
Down with that gentleman-rogue,fwinge him to fyrup I Retire, Sir, and take breath. Follow, and take him , Take all ; 'tis lawful prize.
Boors. We yield.
Claufe. Down with 'em
Into the wood, and rifle 'em, tew 'em, fwinge 'em ! Knock me their brains into their breeches !
Boors. Hold, hold ! {Exeunt.
Manet Gofwin.
Gof. What thefe men are I know not ; nor for what
caufe
"hey Ihould thus thruft themfelves into my* danger, I imagine. But, fure, Heav'n's hand was in't ! r why this coward knave fhould deal fo bafely, "o eat me up with flaves. But, Heav'n, I thank thee ! hope thou haft referv'd me to an end "it for thy creature, and worthy of thine honour. Would all my other dangers here had fuffer'd! With what a joyful heart mould I go home then ? ere now, Heav'n knows, like him that waits his
fentence,
Dr hears his paffing-bell -, but there's my hope ftill*9.
Enter
Where now, Hea<v*n knows, like him that waits his fentence ;
Or hears his pajfing bell ; but there'/ my hope Ji ill. ~\ This is ob- :ure ; but we apprehend the meaning to be. that Gofwin ftill hopes >r alEftance from Heaven. This fenfe feems to be confirmed by the allowing words, in the enfuing fcene :
£ e 2 Chafe.
43$ B E G G A R S' BUSH.
Enter Cluufe. <
Claufe. Bleffing upon you, mafter !
Gof. Thank you. Leave me •, For, by my troth, I've nothing now to give thee.
Claufe. Indeed, I don't afk, Sir j only it grieves me To fee you look fo fad. Now, goodnefs keep you From troubles in your mind !
Gof. If I were troubled, What could thy comfort do ? Prithee, Claufe, leave me.
Claufe. Good mafter, be not angry •, for what I fay Is out of true love to you.
Gof. I know thou lov'ft me.
Claufe. Good mafter, blame that love then, if I
prove fo faucy To afk you why you're fad.
Gof. Moft true, I am fo ; And fuch a fadnefs I have got will fink me.
Claufe. Heav'n fhield it, Sir !
Gof. Faith, thou muft lofe thy mafter.
Claufe. I had rather lofe my neck, Sir. 'Would I knew
Gof. What would the knowledge do thee good (fq
miferable,
Thou canft not help thyfelf ) when all my ways, Nor all the friends I have
Claufe. You do not know, Sir, What I can do : Cures, fometimes, for mens' cares, Flow where they leaft expect 'em.
Gof. I know thou wouldft do ; But, farewell, Claufe, and pray for thy poor mafter,
Claufe. I will not leave you.
Gof. How?
Claufe. I dare not leave you, Sir, I muft not leave yoi And, 'till you beat me dead, I will not leave you.
Claufe. I fay, youjbould not Jhrink ; for he that gave you, Can give you more ', bis poiv'r can bring you off. Sir ; When friends and all for fake you, yet be fees you*
Gof. THERE'S ALL MY HOPE.
By
BEGGARS' BUSH. 437
By what you hold mod precious, by HeavVs goodnefs, As your fair youth may profper, good Sir, tell me I My mind believes yet fomething's in my pow'r May eafe you of this trouble,
Gof. I will tell thee.
For a hundred thoufand crowns, upon my credit, Ta'en up of merchants to fupply my trafficks, The winds and weather envying of my fortune, And no return to help me off yet mewing, To-morrow, Claufe, to-morrow, which muft come, In prifon thou malt find me, poor and broken.
Claufe. I cannot blame your grief, Sin
Gof. Now, what fay ft thou ?
Claufe. I fay, you mould not fhrink ; for he that
gave you,
Can give you more -, his pow'r can bring you off, Sirj When friends and all forfake you, yet he fees you.
Gof. There's all my hope.
Claufe. Hope ftill, Sir. Are you tied Within the compafs of a day, good mafter> To pay this mafs of money ?
Gof. Ev'n to-morrow.
But why do I ftand mocking of my mifery ? Is't not enough the floods and friends forget me ?
Claufe. Will no lefs ferve ?
Gof. What if it would ?
Claufe. Your patience !
I do not afk to mock you. 'Tis a great fum> A fum for mighty men to ftart and flick at ; But not for honeft. Have you no friends left you, None that have felt your bounty, worth this duty ?
Gof. Duty ? Thou know'ft it not.
Claufe. It is a duty,
And as a duty, from thofe men have felt you, Should be return'd again. I have gain'd by you ; A daily alms thefe feven years you have fhower'd on me: Will half fupply your want ?
Gof. Why doft thou fool me ? Canft thou work miracles ?
E e 3 Claufe.
438 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Claufe. To fave my matter, I can work this.
Gof. Thou wilt make me angry with thee.
Claufe. For doing good ?
Gof. What pow'r haft thou ?
Claufe. Enquire not, So I can do it, to preferve ,my mafter. Nay, if it be three parts
Gof. Oh, that I had it !
But, good Claufe, talk no more ; I feel thy charity, \ As thou haft felt mine : But, alas
Claufe. Diftruft not ;
'Tis that that quenches you : Pull up your fpirit, Your good, your honeft, and your noble fpirit •, For if the fortunes of ten thoufand people Can fave you, reft affur'd ! You have forgot, Sir, The good you did, which was the pow'r you gave me : You mall now know the king of Beggars' treafure •, And let the winds blow as they lift, the feas roar, Yet here to-morrow you mall find your harbour. Here fail me not, for, if I live, I'll fit you.
Gof. How fain I would believe thee !
Claufe'. If I lie, mafter, Believe no man hereafter.
Gof. I will try thee ; But, he knows, that knows all
Claufe. Know me to-morrow, And, if I know not how to cure you, kill me. So, pafs ia peace, my beft, my worthieft mafter !
{Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Hubert, like a huntfman.
"Hub. Thus have I ftoPn away difguis'd from Hempf-
kirke,
To try thefe people -9 for my heart yet tells me Some of thefe beggars are the men I look for. Appearing like myielf, they have no reafon,
(Tho*
'
B E G G A R S* BUSH* 439
(Tho' my intent is fair, my main end honeft) But to avoid me narrowly. That face too, That woman's face, how near it is ! Oh, may it feut prove the fame, and, Fortune, how I'll blefs thee ! Thus, fure, they cannot know me, or fufped: me, If to my habit I but change my nature, As I muft do. This is the wood they live in ; A place fit for concealment; where, till fortune Crown me with that I feek, I'll live amongft 'em. [Exit.
Enter tiiggen, Prigg, Ferret, Ginks, and the reft, with the Boors.
Hlg. Come, bring 'em out, for here we fit in juftice. Give to each one a cudgel, a good cudgel : And now attend your fentence ! — That ye are rogues, And rnifchicvous bafe rafcals, (there's the point now) I take it, is confcfs'd.
Prigg. Deny it if ye dare, knaves !
Boors. We are rogues, Sir*
Hig. To amplify the matter then ; rogues ye are, And lamb'd ye (hall be ere we leave ye.
Boors. Yes, Sir.
ttig. And, to the open handling of our juftice, Why did ye this upon the proper perfon Of our good mailer ? Were ye drunk when ye did it ?
Boors. Yes, indeed, were we.
Prigg. Ye mall be beaten fober.
Hig. Was it for want ye undertook it ?
Boors. Yes, Sir.
Hig. Ye mall be fwing'd abundantly.
Prigg. And yet, for all that, Ye mall be poor rogues ftill.
Hig. Has not the gentleman, (Pray mark this point, brother Prigg) that noble
gentleman,
Reliev'd ye often, found ye means to live by, By employing fome at fea, fome here, fome there, According to your callings ?
foors. 'Tis moft true, Sir. i '
E e 4 Hig.
440 BEGGARS5 BUSH.
Hlg. Is not the man an honeft man ?
Boors. Yes, truly.
Big. A liberal gentleman ? And, as ye are true rafcals, Tell me but this, have ye not been drunk, and often, At his charge ?
Boors. Often, often.
nig. There's the point, then ! They've caft themfelves, brother Prigg.
Prlgg. A Ihrewd point, brother.
nig. Brother, proceed you now -, the caufe is open j I'm fomewhat weary.
Prigg. Can ye do thefe things, Ye moft abominable {linking rafcals, Ye turnip-eating rogues ?
Boors. We're truly forry.
Prigg. Knock at your hard hearts, rogues, and
prefently
Give us a fign you feel compunction : Every man up with's cudgel, and on his neighbour Beftow fuch alms, 'till we fhall fay fufficient, (For there your fentence lies) without partiality Either of head, or hide, rogues, without fparing, Or we mall take the pains to beat you dead elle. You know your doom 3°.
Hig. One, two, and three, about it !
[Boors beat one another.
Prigg. That fellow in the blue has true compunction ; He beats his fellow bravely. Oh, well ftruck, boys I
Enter Claufe. Hig. Up with that blue breech ! Now plays he the
devil !
So, get ye home, drink fmall beer, and be honeft. Gall in the gentleman.
Claufe. Do, bring him prefently j His caufe I'll hear myfelf.
30 You ftiall know your doom.'} The word Jhall injuring the fenfe of this paffage, we have expunged it ; and fuppofe it to have been copied, by miitake, from the preceding line.
Entsr
BEGGARS' BUSH. 441
Enter Hempjkirke.
Hig. Prigg. With all due reverence, We do refign, Sir.
Claufe. Now, huffing Sir, what's your name ?
Hemp. What's that to you, Sir ? <
Claufe. It fhall be, ere we part.
Hemp. My name is Hempfkirke. I follow the earl, which you fhall feel.
Claufe. No threatening, For we fhall cool you, Sir. Why didft thou bafely Attempt the murder of the merchant Gofwin ?
Hemp. What pow'r haft thou to afk me ?
Claufe. I will know it, Or flay thee till thy pain difcover it.
Hemp. He did me wrong, bafe wrong.
Claufe. That cannot fave you. Who fent you hither ? and what further villanies Have you in hand ?
Hemp. Why wouldft thou know ? What profit, If I had any private way, could rife Out of my knowledge, to do thee commodity ? Be forry for what thou'ft done, and make amends, fool! I'll talk no further to thee, nor thefe rafcals.
Claufe. Tie him to that tree.
Hemp. I have told you whom I follow.
Claufe. The devil you fhould do, by your villanies. Now he that has the bed way, wring it from him.
Hig. I undertake it : Turn him to the fun, boys ; Give me a fine fharp rum. Will you confefs yet ?
Hemp. You have robb'd me already 5 now you'll murder me.
Hig. Murder your nofe a little. Does your head
purge, Sir ? To it again ; 'twill do you good.
Hemp. Oh, I cannot tell you any thing.
Claufe. Proceed then ! [To Higgen, &c.
Hig. There's maggots in your nofe j I'll fetch 'em out, Sir.
Hemp.
B E G G A R S* B U S H;
Hemp. Oh, my head breaks ! '
Hig. The beft thing for the rheum, Sir, That falls into your worfhip's eyes.
Hemp. Hold, hold!
Claufe. Speak then*
Hemp. I know not what.
Hig. It lies in's brain yet ; In lumps it lies : I'll fetch it out the fineft ! What pretty faces the fool makes ! Heigh !
Hemp* Hold,
Hold, and I'll tell ye all. Look in my doublet^ And there, within the lining, in a paper, You fhall find all.
Claufe. Go, fetch that paper hither, And let him loofe for this time.
Enter Hubert.
Itub. Good ev'n, my honeft friends !
Claufe. Good ev'n, good fellow !
Hub. May a poor huntfman, with a merry heart* A voice fhall make the foreft ring about him, Get leave to live amongft ye ? True as fleelj boys ! That knows all chafes, and can watch all hours, And with my quarter- ft aff, tho' the devil bid ftand, Deal fach an alms, mail make him roar again ; Prick ye the fearful hare through crofs-ways, flieep-
walks,
And force the crafty Reynard climb the quickfets ; Roufe ye the lofty flag, and with my bell-horn Ring him a knell, that all the woods fhall mourn hirr^ 'Till, in his funeral tears, he fall before me ? The polecat, martern Jl, and the rich-fkin'd lucern 3% I know to chafe •, the roe, the wind out-ftripping •, Ifgrim himfelf, in all his bloody anger,
31 Martern.~\ A large fpecies of the weefel ; the fur of which is held in high eib'mation.
JZ Lucern.~\ This animal is nearly the fize of a wolf. It is covered with an exceeding rich fur, the colour between red and brown, and fomething mailed like a cat, intermixed with black fpots.
^ *vV I can
BEGGARS' B U S ti. 443
I can beat from the bay ; and the wild Sounder Single 3?, and with my arm'd ftaff turn the boar, Spite of his foamy tufties, and thus ftrike him, 'Till he fall down my feaft.
Claufe. A goodly fellow.
Hub. What mak'ft thou here, ha ? [Afide.
Claufe. We accept thy fellowlhip.
Hub. Hempfldrke, thou art not right, I fear ; I fearthee. [dftdc.
Enter Ferret, with a letter. Fer. Here is the paper; and as he faid we found it. Claufe. Give me it ; I mall make a fhift yet, old as
I am,
To find your knavery. You are fent here, firrah, To difcover certain gentlemen, a fpy-knave, And if ye find 'em, if not by perfuafion To bring 'em back, by poilbn to difpatch 'em J4,
___ Hub.
i? >And tke wild Sounder
Single, and with my arm'd Ji off turn the boar.] Sounder is a name given to the 'wild boar, as Ifgrim to the wolf.
Mr. Seward objects to this paflage, for being tautologous ; and therefore reads,
• and the wild Sounder
Single, and 'with my boar .ftaff arm'd, THUS turn, Spite of his foamy tujhes, and THUS Jtri&e him. But if he thinks this language exceptionable, in what light muft he look upon that of Shakefpeare, fpeaking of the fame animal : * To fly the boar, before the boar purlbes, ' Were to incenfe the boar to follow us' ?
As we cannot conceive this tautology is by any means fo inelegant, or objectionable, as Mr. Seward's thus and thus, we have adhered to the old reading, believing it to be the genuine text.
34 Tou are fent here, Jtr rah,
To difcover certain gentlemen, a fpy-knave, j4nd if ye find ^ em, if not by perfuafion
To bring ''em back, by poifon to difpatch *em.~\ This paflage is incorrect, if not corrupt. The two firit lines we would read thus : — — — — You are fent here, firrak, To difco*ver certain gentlemen — a fpy, knave !
The import of his inftruftions may indeed be gathered from the three laft lines j but there is a confufion as well as deficiency in the ex-
preffiun,
444 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Hub. By poifon ? ha ?
Claufe. Here is another, Hubert j What is that Hubert, Sir ?
Hemp. You may perceive there.
Claufe. I may perceive a villany, and a rank one. Was he join'd partner of thy knavery ?
Hemp. No-,
He had an honeft end, (would T had had fo !) Which makes him 'fcape fuch cut-throats.
Claufe. So it feems ;
For here thou art commanded, when that Hubert Has done his beft and worthieft fervice this way, To cut his throat ; for here he's fet down dangerous.
Hub. This is moil impious.
Claufe. I am glad we've found you. Is not this true ?
Hemp. Yes ; what are you the better ?
Claufe. You mall perceive, Sir, ere you get your
freedom.
Take him afide ; and, friend, we take thee to us, Into our company. Thou dar'ft be true unto us ?
Hig. Ay, and obedient too ?
Hub. As you had bred me.
Claufe. Then, take our hand ; thou'rt now a fer-
vant to us. Welcome him all !
Hig. Stand off, ftand off! I'll do it. We bid you welcome three ways -, firft, for your perfon. Which is a promifing perfon •, next, for your quality, Which is a decent, and a gentle quality ; Laft, for the frequent means you have to feed us : You can fteal, 'tis to be prefum'd ?
Hub. Yes, venifon, Or, if I want
Hig. 'Tis well ; you underftand right,
,
preflion, and perhaps fome words tranfpofed and others dropt at prels which, however, we will not venture to regulate or fupply. The inaccuracy might proceed from hafte in the writers, who often difmifs a pafiage without fully exprefiing their ideas.
And
BEGGARS* BUSH. 445
And mall practife daily. You can drink too ?
Hub. Soundly.
Hig. And you dare know a woman from a weather cock ?
Hub. Yes, if I handle her.
Claufe. Now fvvear him.
Hig. I crown thy nab with a gage of bene-bowfe^ Andftall thee by thefalamon into the clcwes: To maund on the pad, and ftrike all the cheats •, To mill from the ruffmans commiffion w&Jlates ; fwang dells in the ftrommel j and let the qmsre-cujfiny And harmanbecks trine, and /rr »* to the r^» /
Claufe. Now interpret this unto him.
Hig. I pour on thy pate a pot of good ale, And by the rogues' oath ?5 a rogue thee inftal : To beg on the way, to rob all thou meets •, To fteal from the hedge both the fhirt and the meets $ And lie with thy wench in the ftraw till me twang \ JL,et the conftable, juftice, and devil go hang ! You're welcome, brother !
AIL Welcome j6, welcome, welcome !
Hub. Thank ye, friends !
Claufe. But who mall have the keeping of this fellow ?
Hub. I do befeech ye, if ye dare but truft me, (For 1 have kept 37 wild dogs and beafts for wonder,
3* OVA'] Former editions. Mr. Theobald and I concurred in the emendation. Seivard.
The old book fays, otk, without apoftrcphes ; the word intended therefore was obvious, even if the cant term/a/amon had not pointed jt out.
?6 All. Welcome, welcome, welcome. But who fiall have tbe keeping
Of this fellow? Hub. Thank ye, friends ;
And I befeech ye, //,/&c.] Old folio.— Modern editions,
ALL. Welcome, welcome, welcome ; But who foall have the keeping Of this fellow ?
Hub. SIR, if you dare, &c.
We have here retrieved fome words from the firft copy ; and have made a tranfpefition which feems abfolutely neceffary.
57 For if 1 have kept.] The if hurts the fenfe here, and feems evi dently to have crept into this line from that above. Seward.
And
446 BEGGARS' BUSH.
And made 'em tame too) give into my cuftody
This roaring rafcal : I mail hamper him,
With all his knacks and knaveries, and, I fear me,
Difcover yet a further villany in him.
Oh, he fmells rank o* th' rafcal !
Claufe. Take him to thee ^ But, if he 'fcape -
Hub. Let me be ev'n hang'd for him. Come, Sir, I'll tie you to my learn.
Hemp. Away, rafcal 1
Hub. Be not fo ftubborn : I mall fwinge you foundly, An you play tricks with me.
Claufe. So, now come in ; But ever have an eye, Sir, to your prifoner.
Hub. He muft blind both mine eyes, if he get from me.
Claufe. Go, get fome victuals, and fome drink, fome
good drink ;
For this day we'll keep holy to good fortune. Come, and be frolick with us !
Hig. You are a flranger, brother, I pray lead •, you muft, you muft, brother. [Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Gofwin and Gertrude.
Gert. Indeed you're welcome : I have heard your
'fcape.
And therefore give her leave, that only loves you, Truly and dearly loves you, give her joy leave To bid you welcome. What is't makes you fad, man ? Why do you look ib wild ? Is't I offend you ? Bemrew my heart, not willingly.
Gof. No, Gertrude.
Gert. Is't the delay of that you long have look'd for, A happy marriage ? Now I come to urge it j Now when you pleafe to finim it.
Gof. No news yet ?
Gert. D'you hear, Sir ?
Gof.
BEGGARS? BUSH. 447
Gof. Yes.
Gert. D'you love me ?
Gof. Have I liv'd
In all the happinefs fortune could feat me, In all mens9 fair opinions
Gert. I have provided A prieft, that's ready for us.
Gof. And can the devil, Jn one ten days, that devil Chance, devour me ?
Gert. We'll fly to what place you pleafe.
Gof. No ftar profperous ? All at a fwoop r
Gert. You do not love me, Gofwin $ You will not look upon me !
Gof. Can mens' prayers,
Shot up to Heav'n with fuch a zeal as mine are. Fall back like lazy mifts, and never profper ? Gyves 38 1 muft wear, and cold muft be my comfort; Darknefs, and want of meat ! Alas, me weeps too, Which is the top of all my forrows. Gertrude !
Gert. No, no, you will not know me ; my poor
beauty, Which has been worth your eyes
Gof. The time grows on ftill -, And, like a tumbling wave, I fee my ruin Come rowling over me.
Gert. Yet will you know me ?
Gof. For a hundred thoufand crowns !
Gert. Yet will you love me ? Tell me but how I have deferv'd your flighting ?
Gof. For a hundred thoufand crowns
Gert. Farewell, dilfembler!
Gof. Of which I have fcarce ten ! Oh, how it
ftarts me !
Gert. And may the next you love, hearing my ruin —
38 Qeyeves.~^ This word is ufually wrote gyvss, and means chains. It occurs very frequently in the writers of queen Elizabeth and James the Firft's times. R.
Gof.
448 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Gof. I had forgot myfelf. Oh, my beft Gertrude, Crown of my joys and comforts !
Gert. Sweet, what ails you ? I thought you had been vex'd with me.
Gof. My mind, wench, My mind, o'erflow'd with forrow, funk my memory,
Gert. Am I not worthy of the knowledge 'of it ? And cannot I as well affect your forrows As your delights ? You love no other woman ?
Gof. No, I proteft.
Gert. You have no fhips loft lately ?
Gof. None, that I know of.
Gert. I hope you have fpilt no blood, whofe in nocence May lay this on your confcience.
Gof. Clear, by Heav'n.
Gert. Why mould you be thus, then ?
Gof. Good Gertrude, afk not ; Ev'n by the love you bear me !
Gert. I am obedient.
Gof. Go in, my fair ; I will not be long from you— • Nor long, I fear me, with thee ! At my return, Pifpofe me as you pleafe.
Gert. The good Gods guide you ! [Exit.
Gof. Now for myfelf, which is the leaft I hope for, And, when that fails, for man's worft fortune 39, pity !
[Exit.
39 Novjfor myfelf, 'which is the leaft 1 hope for,
And ivhen that fails, for man's tworfl fortune, pity-] Gofwin here exprefles himfelf very obfcurely. By the fequel of the ftory, it ihould feem that he means to refer to his application for indulgence to the merchants, which being refufed, he (hall be reduced to the moft rniferable iituationj and become an object of pity.
A c
BEGGARS' BUSH. 449
A C T IV. S C E N E I.
Enter G of win and four Merchants.
Gof. \J[T H Y, gentlemen, 'tis but a week more;
W I entreat you
But feven Jhort days •, I am not running from ye ; Nor, if you give me patience, is it poflible All my adventures fail. You have fhips abroad, Endure the beating both of wind and weather: I'm fure 'twould vex your hearts, to be protefted ; Ye're all fair merchants.
1 Mer. Yes, and muft have fair play j There is no living here elfe : One hour's failing Fails us of all our friends, of all our credits.
For my part, I would ftay, but my wants tell me, I muft wrong others in't, Gof. No mercy in ye ?
2 Mer. 'Tis foolifh to depend on others' mercy! Keep yourfelf right, and e'en cut your cloth, Sir, According to your calling. You have liv'd here In lord-like prodigality, high, and open,
And now you find what 'tis : The lib'ral fpending The fummer of your youth, which you mould glean in, And, like the labouring ant, make ufe and gain of, Has brought this bitter^ ftormy winter on you, And now you cry.
3 Mer. Alas, before your poverty,
We were no men, of no mark, no endeavour •, You ftood alone, took up all trade, all bufmefs Running through your hands, fcarce a fail at fea But loaden with your goods : We, poor weak pedlars, When by your leave, and much entreaty to it, We could have ftowage for a little cloth, .Or a few wines, put off, and thank'd your worfhip. < VOL. II. F f Lord,
450 BEGGARS* BUSH.
Lord, how the world's chang'd with you ! Now I
hope, Sir, We {hall have fea-room.
Gof. Is my mifery
Become my fcorn too ? Have ye no humanity ? No part of men left ? Are all the bounties in me To you, and to the town, turn'd my reproaches ?
4 Mr. Well, get your monies ready: 'Tis but
two hours \ We mall proteft you elfe, and fuddenly.
Gof. But two days !
i Mer. Not an hour ! You know the hazard. [Exe,
Gof. How foon my light's put out ! Hard-hearted
Bruges !
Within thy walls may never honeft merchant Venture his fortunes more ! Oh, my poor wench too !
Enter Claufe.
Claufe. Good fortune, matter ! Gof. Thou miftak'ft me, Claufe -y I am not worth thy blefling. Claufe, Still a fad man ?
Enter Higgen and Prigg, like porters. No belief, gentle mailer ? Come, bring it in then ^ And now, believe your beadfman.
Gof. Is this certain ? Or doft thou work upon my troubled fenfe ?
Claufe. 'Tis gold, Sir ; Take it, and try it.
Gof. Certainly, 'tis treafure. Can there be yet this blefllng ?
Claufe. Ceafe your wonder ! You mall not fink for ne'er a fous'd flap-dragor>, For ne'er a pickled pilcher40 of 'em all, Sir.
5Tis
4° For ne'er a fous'd flap-dragon,
For nierapickledv\\d&r, &c.] Pitcher, in old plays, commonly figufies fcalbard ; but in this place means filchard, a fifh like a
herring,
BEGGARS' BUSH. 451
'Tis there; your full fum, a hundred thoufand crowns : And, good fweet mailer, now be merry. Pay 'em, Pay the poor pelting knaves, that know no goodnefs ; And chear your heart up handfomely.
Gof. Good Claufe,
How cam'ft thou by this mighty fum ? If naughtily, I m nft not take it of thee •, 'twill undo me.
Claufe. Fear not •, you have it by as honeft means As though your father gave it. Sir, you know not To what a mafs the little we get daily, Mounts in feven years. We beg it for Heav'n's
chanty, And to the fame good we are bound to render it.
Gof. What great fecurity ?
Claufe. Away with that, Sir ! Were not you more than all the men in Bruges, And all the money in my thoughts — -*—
Gof. But, good Claule, I may die prefently.
Cl&ufe. Then, this dies with you 1 Pay when you can, good mafter ; I'll no parchments : Only this charity I fhall entreat you, Leave me this ring.
Gof. Alas, it is too poor, Claufe.
Claufe. 'Tis all I afk ; and this withal, that when I fhall deliver this back, you fhall grant me Freely one poor petition.
Gof. There •, I confirm it ; [Gives fbe ring.
And may my faith forfake me when I fhun it!
Claufe. Away-, your time draws on. Take up the money,'
herring, often pickled and foufed. flap-dragon is here ufed for any thing eaten at flap-dragon-* a game at which they catch raifms, &c. out of burning brandy. So in Shakefpeare's Henry IV. ' Eatscan- * dies' ends iw flap-dragons? And again in his Winter's Tale, where, as in this paffage of our Authors, it is applied to the fwallowing a fliip: ' To fee how the fa flap-dragon d it !' The metaphors are, however, more correftly ufed by Shakefpeare, and the varieus fenfci of this cant term more clearly feparated, than by our Authors. The word occurs again in the laft fcene of this play; ' My fire - ' works, and flap dr -agons, ,'
F f z And
45* B E G G A R S' BUSH.
And follow this young gentleman.
Gof. Farewell, Claufe-, And may thy honeft memory live ever !
Claufe. Heav'n blefs you, and flill keep you ! Farewell, mailer ! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Hubert. Hub. I have lock'd my youth up clofe enough for
gadding, In an old tree, and fet watch over him.
Enter Jaculin.
Now for my love, for fure this wench mufl be me -, She follows me. Come hither, pretty Minche !
Jac. No, no, you'll kifs.
Hub. So I will.
Jac. Y'deed law ? How will you kifs me, pray you ?
Hub. Thus — Soft as my love's lips I
Jac. Oh!
Hub. What's your father's name ?
Jac. He's gone to Heav'n.
Hub. Is it not Gerrard, fweet ?
Jac. I'll flay no longer ; My mother's an old woman, and my brother Was drown'd at fea,with catching cockles. — Oh, love ! Oh, how my heart melts in "me \ How thou fir'il mef
Hub. 'Tis certain me. Pray let me fee your hand, fweet.
Jac. No, no, you'll bite it.
Hub. Sure I fhould know that gymmal 4I !
Jac. 'Tis certain he : I had forgot my ring too.
*! Sure IJkould know that gymmal. ] Gymmal was a common word in our Authors' time, fignifying, as it is afterwards explained; a ring. It is ftill ufed on board fhip, where the nags, that failen the box which contains the compafs, are at this day known among Tailors by the name of gjmmais.
Oh,
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 453
Oh, Hubert, Hubert!
Hub. Ha ! methpught Ihe nam'd me. Do you know me, chick ?
Jac. No, indeed ; I never faw you : But, methinks, you kifs finely.
Hub. Kifs again then ! By Heav'n, 'tis me.
Jac. Oh, what a joy he brings me ! Hub. You are not Minche. Jac. Yes, pretty gentleman ; And I muft be married to-morrow to a capper 4*. Hub. Muft you, my fweet ? and does the capper
love you ? Jac. Yes, yes j he'll give me pie, and look in mine
eyes thus.
'Tis he ; 'tis my dear love ! Oh, bleft fortune ! Hub. How fain Ihe would conceal herfelf, yet
mews it !
Will you love me, and leave that man ? I'll ferve you. Jac. Oh, I fhall lofe myfelf ! [4fide.
Hub. I'll wait upon you, And make you dainty nofegays. L Jac. And where will you ftick 'em ? Hub. Here in thy boibm, fweet -, and make a crown
of lillies For your fair head.
Jac. And will you love me, deed-law ? Hub. With all my heart. Jac. Call me to-morrow then,
And we'll have brave cheer, and go to church together. Give you good ev'n, Sir !
Hub. But one word, fair Minche ! Jac. I muft be gone a-milking. Hub. You (hall prefently. Did you ne'er hear of a young maid call'd Jaculin ?
Jac. I am difcoyer'd ! Hark in your ear ; I'll tell you. You muft not know me ; kifs, and be conftant ever.
+l 4 capper.} One who makes or fells caps. Jobnfen.
F f 3
454. BEGGARS' BUSH.
Hub. Heav'n curfe me.elfe! 'Tis fhe ; and now
I'm certain They are all here. Now for my other project ! [Exeuni.
SCENE III.
Enter Gofwin^ four Merchants , Higgen, and Prigg.
1 Mer. Nay, if 'twould do you courtefy. Gof. None at all, Sir :
Take it, 'tis yours ; there's your ten thoufand for you ; Give in my bills. Your fixteen.
3 Mer. Pray be pleas'd, Sir, To make a further ufe.
Gof. No.
3 Mer. What I have, Sir, You may command. Pray let me be your fervant.
Gof. Put your hats on : I care not for your cour-
tefies •, They're moft untimely done, and no truth in 'em.
2 Mer. I have a freight of pepper
Gof. Rot your pepper !
Shall I truft you again ? There's yourfeven thoufand. 4 Mer. Or if you want fine fugar, 'tis but fending. < Gof. No, I can fend to Barbary ; thole people,
That never yet knew faith, have nobler freedoms.
Thefe carry to Vanlock, and take my bills in •,
To Peter Zuten thefe ; bring back my jewels.
Why are thefe pieces 43 ? [Guns fr'^.
Enter Sailor.
Sail. Health to the noble merchant ! The Sufan is return'd.
Gof. Well?
Sail. Well, and rich, Sir, And now put in.
Gof. Heav'n, thou haft heard my pray'rs !
43 Why are thefe pieces ?~\ The fenfe which is now fo clear, was obfcure to me till Mr. Sympfon added the marginal note. Seward.
Sail.
BEGGARS' BUSH. 455
Sail.The brave Rebecca too, bound from the Straits, With the next tide, is ready to put after.
Gof. What news o' th' fly-boat ?
Sail. If this wind hold till midnight, She will be here, and wealthy ; me 'fcap'd fairly.
Gof. How, prithee, Sailor?
Sail, Thus, Sir : She had fight, Seven hours together, with fix Turkifh gallies, And me fought bravely ; but at length was boarded, And overlaid with ftrength ; when prefently Comes boring up the wind captain Vannoke, That valiant gentleman you redeem'd from prifon : He knew the boat, fet in, and fought it bravely ; Beat all the gallies off, funk three, redeem'd her, And as a fervice to you fent her home, Sir.
Gof. An honeft noble captain, and a thankful ! There's for thy news : Go, drink the merchant's health, Sailor.
Sail. I thank your bounty, and I'll do it to a doit, Sir. [Exit Sailor,
1 Mer. What miracles are pour'd upon this fellow 1 Gof. This year **, I hope, my friends, I lhall 'fcape
prifon, For all your cares to catch me.
2 Mer. You may pleafe, Sir,
To think of your poor fervants in difpleafure, Whofe all they have, goods, monies, are at your fervice.
Gof. I thank you ;
When I have need of you I lhall forget you ! You're paid, I hope ?
All. We joy in your good fortunes.
*+ This here / hope.'] Any one that attends to the fenfe would at once fee the corruption, and difcover the true word. Mr. Theobald, Mr. Sympfon and I agreed in the correftion, and 'tis confirmed by the old folio, which read* Ye are. 'Tis ftrange, that the following editors fhould fee that this was wrong, and not fee what was right.
Seward.
F f 4 Enttr
456 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Enter Vandunk.
Vand, Come, Sir, come, take your eafe •, you muft
go home with me •, Tender's one weeps and howls.
Gof. Alas, how does me ?
Vand. She will be better foon, I hope.
Gof. Why foon, Sir?
Vand. Why, when you have her in your arms : This
night, my boy, She is thy wife.
G'.f. With all my heart I take her.
Vand. We have prepar'd-, all thy friends will be there, And all my rooms mall fmoak to fee the revel. Thou haft been wrong'd, and no more mall my fervicc Wait on the knave her uncle. I have heard all, All his baits for my boy ^ but thou malt have her. Haft thou difpatch'd thy bufmefs ?
Gof. Moft.
Vand. By th' mafs, boy, Thou tumbleft now in wealth, and I joy in it -s Thou'rt the beft boy that Bruges ever nourim'd. Thou haft been fad •, I'll cheer thee up with fack, And, when thou art lufty, I'll fling thee to thy miftrefs.. She'll hug thee, firrah.
Gof. I long to fee it. ";;
I had forgot you : There's for you, my friends ; You had but heavy burthens. Commend my 45 love
4-5 Commend my love
To my bejl love.] However great a friend Claufe had been, Gofwin would icarcely call him his love, a term appropriated to lovers of different fexts. Befides this, the meafure is fpoil'd ; which, with the former proof, almoft dernonltrates the paffige to be corrupt. A repetition of the verb tommend effectually cures it; and I have often found, that where the lenie and meafure both require a repetition of a word, the primer omits it j taking it for granted, that all repetitions of the iarne word* mull be miilakes, becaufe they generally are fo.
Seaward. Mr. Sevvard reads,
Commend my tovt,
Comme d my btjt lo<ve, all the love, &C.
As it is very common with traiifcsiberb and printers, when the fame word occurs twice in a line, to pals from the firil to the fecond, we
apprehend,
BEGGARS''BUSH. 457
To my beft friend, my beft love, all the love I have, To honeft Claufe ; fhortly Pllthank htm better. [Exit.
Hig. By th' mafs, a royal merchant ! Gold by th*
handful ! Here will be fport foon, Prigg,
Prigg. It partly feems fo ; And here will I be in a trice.
Hig. And I, boy. Away apace •, we are look'd for.
Prigg. Oh, thefe bak'd meats ! Methinks I fmell them hither.
Hig. Thy mouth waters. {Exeunt,
SCENE IV.
Enter Hubert and Hempjkirke.
Hub. I muft not.
Hemp. Why ? 'Tis in thy power to do it, And in mine to reward thee to thy wilhes.
Hub. I dare not, nor I will not.
Hemp. Gentle huntfman, Tho* thou haft kept me hard ; tho* in thy duty, Which is requir'd to do it,th} haft us'd me ftubbornly *, I can forgive thee freely.
Hub. You the earl's fervant ?
Hemp. I fwear, I'm near as his own thoughts to him j Able to do thee
Hub. Come, come, leave your prating.
Hemp. If thou dar'ft but try
Hub. 1 thank you heartily ; you will be The firft man that will hang me j a fweet recompence \ I could do't (but I do not fay I will) To any honeft fellow that would think on't, And be a benefactor.
Hemp. If 't be not recompens'd, and to thy own defires j
apprehend, that, by fuch an error, fome words have been omitted. This chafm we have ventured to fupply ; and, while our reading is nearer the old books, it is, perhaps, more natural and fpirited, than the alteration of Mr, Seward.
458 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Jf, within thefe ten days, I do not make thee *
Hub. What ? a falfe knave ?
Hemp. Prithee, conceive me rightly ; any thing Of profit or of place that may advance thee
Hub. Why, what a goofecap wouldft thou make me ?
Don't I know
That men in mifery will promife any thing, More than their lives can reach at ?
Hemp. Believe me, huntfman, There mall not one fhort fy liable that comes from,
me pafs Without its full performance.
Hub. Say you fo, Sir ? Have you e'er a good place for my quality ?
Hemp. A thoufand ; chafes, foreils, parks -9 I'l}
make thee Chief ranger over all the games.
Hub. When ?
Hemp. Prefently.
Hub. This may provoke me : And yet, to prove a knave too
Hemp. 'Tis to prove honeft ^ 'tis to do good fervice, Service for him thou'rt fworn to, for thy prince :
Then, for thyfelf that good What fool would live
here,
Poor, and in mifery, fubject to all dangers Law and lewd people can inflict, when bravely, And to himfelf, he may be law and credit ?
Hub. Shall I believe thee ?
Hemp. As that thou hold'ft moft holy.
Hub. You may play tricks.
Hemp. Then let me never live more.
Hub. Then you mall fee, Sir, I will do a fervice That mall deferve indeed.
Hemp. 'Tis well faid, huntfman, And thou fhalt be well thought of.
Hub. I will do it :
'Tis not your letting free, for that's mere nothing, But fuch a fervice, if the earl be noble,
He
BEGGARS5 BUSH, 459
'He ftiall for ever love me.
Hemp. What is't, huntfman ?
Hub. Do you know any of thefe people live here ?
Hemp. No.
Hub. You're a fool then : Here be thofe, to have 'em (I know the earl fo well) would make him caper.
Hemp. Any of the old lords that rebell'd ?
Hub. Peace; all: I know 'em ev'ry one, and can betray 'em.
Hemp. But wilt thou do this fervice ?
Hub. If you'll keep Your faith, and free word to me.
Hemp. Wilt thou fwear me ?
Hub. No, no, I will believe you. More than that too, Jrlere's the right heir.
Hemp. Oh, honeft, honeft huntfman 1
Hub. Now, how to get thefe gallants, there's the
matter. You will be conftant ? 'tis no work for me elfe.
Hemp. Will the fun mine
Hub. The way to get 'em !
Hemp. Propound it, and it mall be done.
Hub. No Height,
(For they are devilifh crafty, it concerns 'em) Nor reconcilement46, (for they dare not truft neither) Muft do this trick.
Hemp. By force ?
Hub. Ay, that muft do it ; And with the perfon of the earlhimfelf : Authority, and mighty, muft come on 'em, Or elfe in vain : And thus I'd have you do it. To-morrow night be here; a hundred men will bear
'em,
(So he be there, for he's both wife and valiant, And with his terror will ftrike dead their forces) The hour be twelve o'clock. Now for a guide, To draw ye without danger on thofe perfons,
*6 Reconcilement.] /. e. Pretended reconcilement.
The
460 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
The woods being thick, and hard to hit; myfelf, With fome few with me, made unto our purpofe, Beyond the wood, upon the plain, will wait ye By the great oak.
Hemp. I know it. Keep thy faith, huntfman, And fuch a mower of wealth
Hub. I warrant ye : Mifs nothing that I tell you,
Hemp. No.
Hub. Farewell.
You have your liberty ; now ufe it wifely, And keep your hour. ' Go clofe about the wood there, For fear they fpy you.
Hemp. Well.
Hub. And bring no noife with you.
Hemp. All mall be done to ths purpofe. Farewell, huntfman. [Exeunt.
Enter Claufey Higgen^ Prigg^ Ginks^ Snap, and Ferret.
Claufe. Now, what's ^the news in town ?
Ginks. No news, but joy, Sir; Every man wooing of the noble merchant, Who has 47 his hearty commendations to you.
Per. Yes, this is news ; this night he's to be married.
Ginks. By th* mafs, that's true-, he marries Vandunke's
daughter, The dainty black-ey'd belle48.
Hig. I would my clapper Hung in his baldrick ^ ! ah, what a peal could I ring £
4" Who has his hearty, &c.] As an imperfecl fentence feems un-
necefTary here, I fupjrofe has to be wrong, and that either does or fexds was the original. Scivard.
In a familiar phralo, perhaps, has is not unwarrantable.
48 Ela,ck-eyd bell.] This is fenfe, but as dell is the cant term made ufe of before in the play for a young lafs, Mr. Theobald and Mr. Symplon both think the fame word was here ufed. Seivard.
Had either of the confirmed beggars been the fpeaker, perhaps this alteration would have been allowable ; but Ginks was not of that ciafs ; the old copies may therefore be adhered to.
4? Baldrick.] Btildrick, or bawdgrick^ i. e. telt* from the old French wprd baudrier, a fiece of drrjjfed leather, girdle, or belt, made of
fuch
BEGGARS' B U S H. 461
Claufe. Married ?
Ginks. JTis very true, Sir. Oh, the pies, The piping-hot mince-pies !
Prigg. Oh, the plum-pottage !
Big. For one leg of a goofe now would I venture
a limb, boys :
I love a fat goofe, as I love allegiance ; And, pox upon the boors, too well they know it, And therefore ftarve their poultry.
Claufe. To be married To Vandunke's daughter ?
Big. Oh, this precious merchant ! What fport he'll have ! But, hark you, brother Prigg, Shall we do nothing in the aforefaid wedding ? There's money to be got, and meat, I take it \ What think you of a morris ?
Prigg. No, by no means,
That goes no further than the ilreet, there leaves us : Now we muft think of fomething that may draw us Into the bowels of it, into th' buttery, Into the kitchen, into the cellar -, fomething That that old drunken burgomafter loves : What think you of a waffel s° ?
fuch leather ; and that comes from the word baudroyer, to drefs lea ther, curry, or make belts. Monfieur Menage f;iys, this comes from the Italian baldringus, and that from the Lntin balteus, from whence the Baltick Sea has its name, becaufe it goes round as a belt. This word baudtier, among the French, fometimes fignified a girdle, in which people ufed to put their money. See Rablais, iii. 37. Menag. Orig. Franc/ Somn. Dicl. Sax. Nicot. Did. Fortefcue Aland's Notes on Fortefcue, on the Difference between an Abfolute and Limited Monarchy. 1724, p. 52. R.
Perhaps the word baudry (now baudy) which relates to matters telo<w the girdle, was originally derived fiom this expreffion.
*° Waffel.] Wa/el, or nua/ail. is a word ftill in ufe in the midland Counties, and it figuifies what is fometimes called lamtis ivool ; i. e. roafted apples in itrong beer, with fugar and fpice. It is fometimes alfo ufed for general riot, intemperance, or ftfti<vity. Ben Jonfon perfon:fies luaffel thus : ' Enter Waffel, like a i;eat fempfler and fong- ' fter, her page bearing a brown bowl, drefled with ribbands and '* rolemary, before her.' Stee-vens.
Such an interlude is plainly propofed in this place. .
FAg.
462 BEGGARS' BUSH,
Hig. I think worthily.
Prigg. And very fit it fhould be : thou, and Ferret, And Ginks, to fing the fongj.I for the flru&ure, Which is the bowl. *
Hig. Which muft be upfey-Englifh, Strong lufty London beer. Let's think more of it.
Claufe. He mult not marry.
Enter Hubert.
Hub. By your leave in private, One word, Sir, with you. Gerrard ! Do not ftart
me SI :
I know you, and he knows you, that beft loves you : Hubert fpeaks to you, and you muft be Gerrard •, The time invites you to it.
Ger. Make no mow then. I am glad to fee you, Sir -, and I am Gerrard. How ftand affairs ?
Hub. Fair, if you dare now follow. Hempfldrke I have let go, and thefe my caufes I'll tell you privately, and how I've wrought him : And then, to prove me honeft to my friends, Look upon thefe directions ; you have feen his.
Hig. Then will I ipeak a fpeech, and a brave fpeech^ In'praife of merchants. Where's the ape ?
Prigg. Pox take him, A gouty bear-ward flole him t'other day !
Hig. May his bears worry him ! That ape had paid it. What dainty tricks, (Pox o'that whorfon bear- ward !) In his French doublet, with his bliiler'd bullions 5% In a long flock ty'd up ! Oh, how daintily Would I have made him wait, and change a trencher, Carry a cup of wine ! Ten thoufand ftinks
*x Do notjtart me .] Mr. Seward, concurring with Mr. Theobald in opinion, reads, Do not flart, MAN. The old lection feems to us perfect fenfe ; meaning, ' do not be a/armed AT me ;' as we fami«! liarly fay, * do notify me? for * do not^y FROM me* Gofwin fays above, fpeaking ot'his diftrefsful fituation, Ob, hov; it ftarts me.
51 Blifter'd lullions.~] Perhaps a cant word for large buttons, to the ape's French doublet.
Wait
B E G G A R S* BUSH. 463
Wait on thy mangy hide, thou loufy bear- ward !
Ger. 'Tis patting well i I both believe and joy in't, And will be ready. Keep you here the mean while'
And keep this in •, I muft a while forfake you. '
Upon mine anger, no man ftir this two hours.'
Hig. Not to the wedding, Sir ?
Ger. Not any whither.
Big. The wedding muft be feen, Sir: we want
. meat too ; We're horrible out of meat.
Prigg. Shall it be fpoken, Fat capons fhak'd their tails at's in defiance ? And turkey tombs », fuch honourable monuments, Shall pigs, Sir, that the parfon's felf would envy, * And dainty ducks
Ger. Not a word more ; obey me ! [Exit Ger.
Hig. Why then, come, doleful death ! This is flat
tyranny ; And, by this hand
Hub. What?
Hig. I'll go Deep upon't. [Exit Hig.
Prigg. Nay, an there be a wedding, and we wanting, Farewell, our happy days ! — We do obey, Sir. [Exeunt.
SCENE V.
.G: Enter two young Merchants.
1 Mer. Well met, Sir^ you are for this lufly wedding?
2 Mer. I am fo j fo are you, I take it,
1 Mer. Yes ;
And it much glads me, that to do him fervice, Who is the honour of our trade, and luftre, We meet thus happily.
2 Mer. He's a noble fellow,
And well becomes a bride of fuch a beauty.
i Mer. She's patting fair indeed. Long may their loves
'* Turkey tombs."] i, a Turkey pies. Seward.
.Continue
464 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Continue like their youths, in fpring of fweetnefs ! All the young merchants will be here, no doubt on'tj For he that comes not to attend this wedding, The curfe of a moft blind one fall upon him, A loud wife, and a lazy ! Here's Vanlock.
Enter Vanlock and Frances. VanL Well overtaken, gentlemen : Save you !
1 Mer. The fame to you, Sir. Save you, fair
miftrefs Frances !
I would this happy night might make you blufh too. VanL She^dreams apace. Fran. That's but a drowfy fortune.
2 Mer. Nay, take us with ye too ; we come to that
end :
Pm fure ye are for the wedding. VanL Hand and heatt, man ; And what their feet can do ; I could have tript it Before this whorfon gout.
Enter Gerrard. Ger. Blefs ye, matters ! VanL Claufe ! how now, Claufe ? thou art come
to fee thy mailer
( And a good mafter he is to all poor people) In all his joy ; 'tis honeflly done of thee.
Ger. Long may he live, Sir ! but my bufinefs now is If you would pleafe to do it, and to him too.
Enter Gofwin.
VanL He's here himfelf.
Gof. Stand at the door, my friends ? I pray walk in. Welcome, fair miftrefs Frances ! See what the houfe affords -9 there's a young lady Will bid you welcome.
VanL We joy your happinefs ! [Exeunt.
Manent Gerrard and Gofwin. Gof. I hope it will be fo. Claufe, nobly welcome ! My honeft, my beft friend, I have been careful
To fee thy monies
Ger.
B E G G A R S> B U S H. 465 Ger. Sir, that brought not me ; t)o you know this ring again ? Gof. Thou hadft it of me. Ger. And do you well remember yet the boon you
gave me, Upon return of this ?
Gof. Yes, and I grant it>
Be't what it will : Afk what thou canft, I'll do it, Within my pow'r.
Ger. You are not married yet ?
Gof. No.
Ger. Faith, I mall afk you that that will difturb youj But I mnft put you to your promife.
Gof. Do. And if I faint and flinch in't
Ger. Well faid, mafter ! And yet it grieves me too : And yet it muft be.
Gof. Prithee, diftruft me not.
Ger. You muft not marry ! That's part o' thj - pow'r you gave me ; which, to
make up, You muft prefently depart, and follow me.
Gof. Not marry, Clatife ?
Ger. Not, if you keep your promife, And give me pow'r to aik.
Gof. Prithee, think better : I will obey, by Heav'n.
Ger. I've thought the beft, Sir.
Gof. Give me thy reafon ; doft thou fear her honefty ?
Ger. Chafte as the ice, for any thing I know, Sir.
Gof. Why fhouldft thou light on that then? to what purpofe ?
Ger. I muft not now difcover.
Gof. Muft not marry ?
Shall I break now, when my poor heart is pawn'd ? When all the preparation
Ger. Now, or never.
Gof. Come, 'tis not that thou wouldft ; thou doft • but fright me.
VOL. II. Gg
466 B E G G A R S» BUSH,
Ger. Upon my foul it is, Sir •, and I bind you*
Gof. Claufe, canft thou be fo cruel ?
Ger. You may break, Sir •, But never more in my thoughts appear honeft.
Gof. Didft ever fee her ?
Ger. No.
Gof. She's fuch a thing ;
Oh, Claufe, Ihe's fuch a wonder ! fuch a mirror, For beauty, and fair virtue, Europe has not ! Why haft thou made me happy to undo me ? But look upon her •, then if thy heart relent not, I'll quit her prefently. Who waits there ?
Ser. [within] Sir !
Gof. Bid my fair love corqe hither, and the company. Prithee, be good unto me ; take a man's heart, And look upon her truly •, take a friend's heart, And feel what miiery muft follow this !
Ger. Take you a noble heart, and keep your promife i I forfook all I had, to make you happy.
Enter Gertrude^ Vandunke^ and the Merchants.
Can that thing, call'd a woman, flop your goodnefs ?
Gof. Look, there me is ; deal with me as thou wilt
now -y Didft ever fee a fairer ?
Ger. She's moft goodly.
Gof. Pray you ftand ftill,
Gert. What ails my love ?
Gof. Didft thou ever,
By the fair light of Hcav'n, behold a fweeter ? Oh, that thou knew'ft but love, or ever felt him I Look well, look narrowly upon her beauties.
1 Mer. Sure h' has fome ftrange defign in hand, he
ftarts fo.
2 Mer. This beggar has a ftrong pow'r o'er his
pleafure.
Gof. View all her body. Ger. 'Tis exact and excellent. Gof. Is Ihe a thing then to be loft thus lightly ?
Her
B E G G A R S' BUSH* 467
Her mind is ten times fweeter, ten times nobler ; And but to hear her fpeak a Paradife 5 And fuch a love me bears to me, a chafte love, A virtuous, fair, and fruitful love ! 'Tis now too I'm ready to enjoy it •, the prieft ready, Claufe, To fay the holy words fhall make us happy. This is a cruelty beyond man's ftudy ! All thefe are ready, all our joys are ready, And all the expectation of our friends : 'Twill be her death to do it.
Ger. Let her die then !
Gof. Thou canft not j 'tis impofiible !
Ger. It muft be.
Gof. 'Twill kill me too, 'twill murder me! By
Heav'n, Claufe, I'll give thee half I have ! Come, thou malt fave me !
Ger. Then you muft go with me (Lean ftay no longer) If you be true and noble. [Exit.
Gof. Hard heart, Fl! follow! Pray ye all go in again, and pray be merry : I have a weighty bufmefs (give my cloak there !)
Enter Servant , with a cloak. Concerns my life and itate (make no enquiry) This prefent hour befall'n me : With the fooneft I fhall be here again. Nay, pray go in, Sir, And take them with you ; 'tis but a night loft, gen tlemen.
Vand. Come, come in ; we'll not lofe our meat yet, Nor our good mirth ; he cannot ftay long from her, I'm fure of that. [Exit with Merchants^ &c.
Gof. I will not ftay, belieVe, Sir. Gerrrude, a word with you. Gert Why is this ftop, Sir ? Gof I have no more time left me, but to kifs thee, And tell thee this, I'm ever thine ! Farewell, wench 1
[Exit.
Gert. And is that all your ceremony ? Is this a wedding ?
G g 2 Are
468 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
Are all my hopes and prayers turn'd to nothing ? Well, I will fay no more, nor figh, nor forrow ; 'Till to thy face I prove thee falfe. Ah me ! [Exit.
ACT V. SCENE L
Enter Gertrude, and a Boor. Gert. T E A D, if thou think'ft we're right. Why
firi/r fnrvn molr**
doft thou make Thefe often ftands ? Thou faidft thou knew'ft the way.
Boor. Fear nothing ; I do know it. 'Would 'twere homeward !
Gert. Wrought from me by a beggar ? at the time That moil fhould tie him ? 'Tis fome other love, That hath a more command on his affections, And he that fetch'd him a difguifed agent, Not what he perfonated ; for his fafhion Was more familiar with him> and more pow'rful, Than one that alk'd an alms : I muft find out One, if not both. Kind darknefs, be my fhroud, And. cover love's too-curious fearch in me; For yet, Sufpicion, I would not name thee !
Boor. Miftreis, it. grows ibmewhat pretty and dark.
Gert. What then ?
Boor. Nay, nothing. Do not think I am afraid, Although perhaps you are.
Gert. I am not. Forward!
Boor. Sure, but you are. Give me your hand ; fear
nothing.
There's one leg in, the wood ; do not pull backward ! What a fweat one on's are in ; you or I ! Pray God k do not prove the plague-, yet'fure It has infected rne •, for I fweat too ; It runs out at my knees: -Feel, feel, I pray you.
Gert. What ails the fellow ?
Boor.
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 469 Boor. Hark, hark, I befeech you : Do you hear nothing ? Gert. No.
Boor. Lift ! a wild hog ;
He grunts 1 now 'tis a bear ; this wood is full of 'em ! And now a wolf, miftrefs ; a wolf, a wolf! It is the howling of a wolf.
Gert. The braying of an afs, is it not ?
Boor. Oh, now one has me ! Oh, my left ham ! Farewell !
Gert. Look to your lhanks, Your breech is fafe enough -, the wolfs a fern-brake.
Boor. But fee, fee, fee ! there is .a ferpent in it ! 'T has eyes as broad as platters •, it fpits fire ! Now it creeps towards us •, help me to fay my prayers ! 'T hath fwallow'd me almoft •, my breath is ftopt -, I cannot fpeak ! Do I fpeak, miftrefs ? tell me.
Gert. Why, thou itrange timorous fot, canft thou
perceive Any thing i' th' bum but a poor glow-worm ?
Boor. It may be 'tis but a glow-worm now 5 but
'twill Grow to a fire- drake prefently.
Gert. Come thou from it !
I have a precious guide of you, and a courteous, That gives me leave to lead tnyfelf the way thus. [ Holla.
Boor. It thunders ; you hear that now ?
Gert. I hear one holla.
Boor. 'Tis thunder, thunder ! See, a flam of light ning !
Are you not blafted, miftrefs ? Pull your mafk off; 'T has play'd the barber with me here : I have loft My beard, my beard ! Pray God you be not ihaven ; 'Twill fpoil your marriage, miftreis.
Gert. What ftrange wonders Fear fancies in a coward !
Boor. Now the earth opens !
Gert. Prithee hold thy peace.
Poor. Will you on then ?
G g 3
470 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Gert. Both love and jealoufy have made me bold : Where my fate leads me, I muft go. [£#//.
Boor. God be with you then !
j Enter Wolfort^ Hempjkirke, and attendants.
Hemp. It was the fellow lure, he that mould guide me, The huntiman, that did holla us.
Wol Bcft make a ftand, And liften to his next. Ha !
Hemp. Who goes there ?
Boor. Miilrefs, I am taken.
Hemp. Milcrefs ? Look forth, foldiers !
Wol. What are you, firrah ?
Boor. Truly, all is left
Of a poor boor,* by day-light ; by night, nobody. You might have fpar'd your drum, and guns, and
pikes too,
For I am none that will (land out, Sir, I. You may take me in with a walking-flick, Ev'n when you pleafe, and hold me with a packthread,
Hemp. What woman was't you call'd to ?
Boor. Woman ! None, Sir.
Wool. None ! Did you not name miftrefs ?
Boor. Yes, but fhe's
No woman yet : She mould have been this night, But that a beggar ftole away her bridegroom, Whom we were going to make hue and cry after. I tell you true, Sir; me mould ha' been married to-day, And was the bride and all ; but in came Claufe, The old lame beggar, and whips up Mr. Gofwin Under his arm, away with him ; as a kite, Or an old fox, would fwoop away a goiling.
Hemp. ?Tis me, 'tis me, 'tis me ! Niece !
Re-enter Gertrude. Gert. Ha! Hemp. She, Sir :
This was a noble entrance to your fortune, That, being on the point thus to be married, Upon her venture here, you ihould furprife her.
Wol.
BEGGARS* BUSH. 471
Wol. I begin, Hempfkirke, to believe my fate Works to my ends.
Hemp. Yes, Sir ; and this adds truft Unto the fellow our guide, who aiTur'd me Florez jLiv'd in fome merchant's fhape, as Gerrard did In the old beggar's, and that he would ufe Him for the train to call the other forth ; All which we find is done. [Holla again.} That's he again.
Wol. Good we fent out to meet him.
Hemp. Here's the oak.
Gert. Oh, I am miferably loft, thus fall'n Into my uncle's hands from all my hopes ! Can I not think away myfelf and die ? [Exeunt.
Enter Hubert, Higgen, Prigg, Ferret, Snap, and Ginks, like boors.
Hub. I like your habits well; they're fafe; ftand clofe.
Hig. But what's the action we are for now, ha ? Robbing a ripier 54 of his fiih ?
Prigg. Or taking A poulterer prifoner, without ranfom, bullies ?
Hig. Or cutting off a convoy of butter ?
Fer.Or furprifing a boor's ken, for grunting-cheats3*?
Prigg. Or cackling- cheats /
Hig. Or Margery -praters, rogers, And tibs o' ttf buttery ?
Prigg. Oh, I could drive a regiment' Of geele afore me, fuch a night as this, Ten leagues, with my hat and ftafr, and not a hifs Heard, nor a wing of my troops diibrder'd.
Hig. Tell us,
If it be milling of a lag of duds, The fetching-off a buck of cloaths, or fo ?
. 54 Robbing a ripper ofhisf/b.'] Ripper, properly ripier, from the Latin rlpa, is a word ftill ufed in the northern counties, and fignifies a kind of travelling fifhmonger, who carries fifti fiom the coaft, to fell in the inland parts.
** Granting-cheati.] Former editions. Corredled by Mr. Theobald.
Seward.
Gg4 We
472 BEGGARS' BUSH.
We are horribly out of linen ss.
Hub. No fuch matter.
Hig Let me alone for any farmer's dog, If you have a mind to the cheefe-loft ; 'tis but thus— And he's a filenc'd maftiff, during pleafure.
Hub. 'Would it would pleafe you to be filent.
Hig. Mum.
Enter Wolfort, Hempjkirke, Gertrude, Boor> &c,
Wol. Who's there?
Hub. A friend •, the huntfman.
Hemp. Oh, 'tis he.
Hub. I have kept touch, Sir. Which isth'earlof thefe? Will he know a man now ? <4.^
Hemp. This, my lord,.'s the friend Hath undertook the fervice,
Hub. If t be worth
His lordfhip's thanks, anon, when 'tis done, Lording, I'll look for't. A rude woodman ! • I knovv how to pitch my toils, drive in my And I have don't •, both Florez and his father Old Gerrard, with lord Arnold of Benthuifen, Coftin, and Jaculin, young Florez' fitter : I have 'em all.
Wol. Thou fpeak'ft too much, too happy, To carry faith with it.
Hub. I can bring you Where you mail fee, and find 'em.
Wol We will double Whatever Hempfkirke then hath promis'd thee.
Hub. And I'll deferve it treble. What horfe ha' you ?
Wol. A hundred.
Rub. That's well : Ready to take Upon furprize of 'em ?
Hemp. Yes.
Hub. Divide then
Your force into five fquadrons •, for there are So many out-lets, ways through the wood,
55 Buck ofcloatbs) &c.J A parcel of cloaths wafhed or to be waflied. See Shakefpeare's Merry Wives of Windfor.
That
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 473
That ilTue from the place where they are lodg'd : Five feveral ways •, of all which paffages We muft poffefs ourfelves, to round 'em in j For by one ftarting-hole they'll all efcape elfe. I, and four boors here to me, will be guides : The fquadron where you are myfelf will lead ; And that they may be more fecure, I'll ufe My wonted whoops and hollas, as I were Attainting for 'em ; which will make them reft Carelefs of any noife, and be a direction To th' other guides how we approach 'em ftill.
WoL 3Tis order'd well, and reliiheth the foldier. Make the divifion,,Hempfkirke. You are my charge, Fair one •, I'll look to you.
Boor. Shall nobody need To look to me. I'll look unto myfelf.
Hub. 'Tis but this, remember.,
Hig. Say, 'tis done, boy! [Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Gerrard and Florez.
Ger. By this time, Sir, I hope you want no reafons Why I broke off your marriage ; for though I Should as a fubjedt ftudy you my prince In things indifferent, it will not meretcre Difcredit you to acknowledge me your lather, By heark'ning to my neceflary coumtls.
Flo. Acknowledge you my father ? Sir, I do ; 'And may impiety, confpiririg with My other fins, fink me, and fudclenly, When I forget to pay you a fon's duty In my obedience, and that Cj6 help'd forth
*6 And that \iz^& foith.] To help forth obedience jvith cheer- fulnefs, feems a liilFexprefiion ; I h>.ve iubitiluted the natural word, and added a monoiyllabie that is neceffary to the meafure, and believe that in both I have reitored the original. Seivani.
The old reading is fenfe, and the meafure not unufually defeftive ; reading obedi.exce, at length, not at all fo. Helped forth is more poetical than held forth.
With
474 BEGGARS' BUSH,
With all the cheerfulnefs
Ger. I pray you rife -,
And may thofe pow'rs that fee and love this in you, Reward you for it ! Taught by your example, Having receiv'd the rights due to a father, I tender you thj allegiance of a fubject •, Which as my prince accept of.
Flo. Kneel to me 57 ?
May mountains firft fall down beneath their vailies. And fire no more mount upwards, when I fuffer An act in nature fo prepofterous ! I muft o'ercome in- this, in all things elfe The victory be yours. Could you here read me, You mould perceive how all my faculties Triumph in my bleft fate, to be found yours : I am your fon, your fon, Sir ! And am prouder To^be fo, to the father to fuch goodnefs, (Which Heav'n be pleas'd I may inherit from you I) Than I mall ever of thofe fpecious titles That plead for my fucceffion in the earldom (Did I pofiefs it now) left by my mother.
Ger. I do believe it : But
Flo. Oh, my lov'd father, Before I knew you were fo, by inftincl:, Nature had taught me to look on your wants, Not as a ftranger's : And, I know not how, What you calPd charity, I thought the payment Of fome religious debt Nature ftood bound for : And laft of all, when your magnificent bounty, In my low ebb of fortune, had brought in A flood of bleflings, tho' my threat'ning wants, And fear of their effects, ftill kept me ftupid, I foon found out it was no common pity That led you to it.
Ger. Think of this hereafter, When we with joy may call it to remembrance ^ There will be a time, more opportune than now,
57 Kmel to me, &c.~\ In King and No King is a paflage fimiJar to this. The reader will find it paralleled to one in Shakefpeare's Coriolanus, vol. I. p. 232, of this work.
To
BEGGARS' BUSH. 475
To end your ftory, with all circumftances.
I add this only : When we fled from Wolfort,
J fent you into England, and there plac'd you
With a brave Flanders merchant, cail'd rich Gofwin,
A man fupplied by me unto that purpofe,
As bound by oath never to difcover you ;
Who dying, left his name and wealth unto you,
As his reputed fon, and yet receiv'd fo.
But now, as Florez, and a prince, remember,
The country's, and the fubjed's general good,
Muft challenge the firft part in your affedion ;
The fair maid, whom you chofe to be your wife,
Being fo far beneath you, that your love
Muft grant fhe's not your equal.
Flo. In defcent,
Or borrow'd glories from dead anceftors : But for her beauty, chattity, and all virtues Ever remember'u in the bell of women, A monarch might receive from her, not give, Tho' me were his crown's purchafe : In this only Be an indulgent father j in all elfe Uie your authority.
Enter Hubert, Hemfftirke, Wolfort, Gertrude, and Soldiers.
Hub. Sir, here be two of Jem, ' The father and the fon •, the reil you (hall have As fail as I can ronze them.
Ger. Who's this ? Wolfort ?
Wol. Ay, cripple ; your feign'd crutches will not
help you. Nor patch'd difguife, that hath fo long conceal'd
you •,
It's now no halting : I muft here find Gerrard, And in this merchant's habit one cail'd Florez, Who would be an earl.
Ger. And is, wert thou a fubjed.
Flo. Is this that traitor Wolfort ?
WoL Yes j but you
Arc
476 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Are they that are betray'd. Hempfkirke !
Gert. My Gofwin
Turn'd pnnce ? Oh, I am poorer by this greatnefs, Than all my former jcaloufies or misfortunes.
Flo. Gertrude !
Wol. Stay, Sir ; you were to-day too near her : You muft no more aim at thofe eafy accefles, 5Lefs you can do't in air, without a head ^ Which (hail be fuddenly try'd.
Gert. Oh, take my heart firfl 5 And, fince I cann :t hope now to enjoy him, IJet me but fall a part of his glad ranlom.
Wol. You know not your own value that entreat — -
Ger. So proud a fiend as Wplfort I
Wol. For fo loft A thing as Florez.
Flo. And that would be fo, Rather than me mould (loop again to thee 1 There is no death, but's fweeter than all life, When Wolfort is to give it. Oh, my Gertrude, It is not that, nor princedom, that I go from ; It is from thee ! that lofs includeth all.
WoL Ay, ' if my young prince knew his lofs, he'4
fay fo ;
Which, that he yet may chew on, I will tell him. This is no Gertrude, nor no Hempfkirke's niece, Nor Vandunke's daughter : This is Bertha, Bertha ! The heir of Brabarft, me that caus'd the war, Whom I did fteal, during my treaty there, In your minority „ to raife myfeif : I then forefeeing 'twould beget a quarrel ;-— That, a necellity of my employment ; — The fame employment, make me mailer of flrength ;—- *> That flrength, the lord of Flanders ; fo of Brabant, By marrying her ; Which had not been to do, Sir, She come of years, but that the expedition, Firil, of her father's death, retarded it -, And fince, the {landing-out of Bruges ; where Hempfkirke had hid her, till me was near lofr.
But,
BEGGARS* BUSH. 477
But,: Sir, we have recovered her : Your merchantfhip May break ; for this was one of your bed bottoms, I think.
Ger. Infolent devil !
Enter Hubert •, with Jaculin, Ginks, and Coftin.
Wol. Who are thefe, Hemplkirke ? i Hemp. More, more, Sir.
Flo. How they triumph in their treachery !
Hemp. Lord Arnold of Benthuifen, this lord Coftin, This Jaculin, the fifter unto Florez.
Wol. All found ? Why, here's brave game ; this
was fport-royal,
And puts me in thought of a new kind of death for 'em. Huntfman, your horn ! Firil, wind me Florez' fall ; Next, Gerrard's j then, his daughter Jaculin's. Thofe rafcals, they, mail die without their rites 5* : Hang 'em, Hemplkirke, on thefe trees. I'll take 1 Th' allay 59 of thefe myfelf.
Hub. Not here, my lord ; Let 'em be broken up upon a fcaffold ; 'Twill mew the better when their arbour's made.
Ger. Wretch, art thou not content thou haft be-
tray'd us, But mock'ft us too ?
Ginks. Falfe Hubert, this is monilrous !
Wol. Hubert ?
Hemp. Who ? this ?
Ger. Yes, this is Hubert, Wolfort -, I hope h' has help'd himfelf to a tree.
Wol. The firft,
5s Their rights.] The falfe fpelling of this word would not have defeived a note, had not it given a lenfe totally different from the true one ; viz. That the two lords were to die without being firft put in pofleffion of their rights or lordihips. It only means here, that they {hould be hanged without the honour of any rite or ceremony.
Seaward.
59 Tfr aflay.] Dr. Johnfon, in his Dictionary, among other ex planations of this word, gives attack, trouble » in the latter of which fenfes it feeras to be ufed here.
The
478 BEGGARS' BUSH.
The firfl of any, and moft glad I have you, Sir : I let you go before, but for a train. Is't you have done this fervice ? Hub. As your huntfman60;
But now as Hubert (fave yourfelves) I will
The Wolfs afoot ! Let Hip ! kill, kill, kill, kill !
Enter, with a drum, Vandunke, Merchants, Higgen, Prigg, Ferret, and Snap.
Wol Betray'd?
Hub. No, but well catch'd ; and I the huntfman.
Vand. How do you, Wolfort ? Rafcal ! good knave
Wolfort!
I fpeak it now without the rofe ! and Hempfkirke, Rogue Hempfkirke I you that have no niece : this lady Was ftol'n by you, and ta'en by you, and now Refign'd by me to the right owner here. Take her, my prince !
Flo. Can this, be poflible ? Welcome, "my love, my fweet, my worthy love !
Vand. I haj giv'n you her twice-, now keep hef
better : And thank
Lord Hubert, that came to me in Gerrard's name, And got me out, with my brave boys, to march Like Csefar, when he bred his Commentaries ; So I, to breed my chronicle, came forth Csefar Vandunke, & veni, vidi, vici ! Give me my bottle, and let down the drum. You had your tricks, Sir, had you ? we ha' tricks too ! You ftole the lady !
Htg. And we led your fquadrons, Where they haj fcratch'd their legs a little, with
brambles, If not their faces.
60 4s your hunt/man?
But now as Hubert ; fa<ve yourfelves, l^will, 'The Wolf* afoot ; let flip > kill, kill, kill, kill'] This pointing, which is Mr. Seward's, makes thefe lines inexplicable ; which now appear perfect fenfe.
Prigg.
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 479
Yes, and run their heads Againit trees.
Rig. 'Tis captain Prigg, Sir f
Prigg. And colonel Higgen !
Hig. We have fill'd a pit with your people fomc
with legs,
Some with arms broken, and a neck or two I think be loofe.
Prigg. The reft too, that efcap'd, Are not yet out o' th' briars,
Hig. And your horfes, Sir, Are well fet up in Bruges all by this time. You look as you were not well, Sir, and would be Shortly let blood : Do you want a fcarf ?
Vand. A halter!
Ger. 'Twas like you rfelf, honeft, and noble Hubert! Canft thou behold thefe mirrors all together, Of thy long, falfe, and bloody ufurpation, Thy tyrannous profcription, and frem treafon ; And not fo fee thyfelf, as to fall down, And finking force a grave, with thine own guilt, As deep as hell, to cover thee and it ?
WoL No, I can ftand, and praife the toils that
took me ; And laughing in them die : They were brave fnares \
Flo. 'Twere truer valour, if thou durfl repent The wrongs th' haft done, and live.
Wol. Who ? I repent,
And fay I'm forry ? Yes, 'tis the fool's language, And not for Wolfort.
Vand. Wolfort, thou'rt a devil, And fpeak'ft his language. Oh, that I had my longing! Under this row of trees now would I hang him.
Flo. No, let him live until he can repent ; But banifh'd from our ftate^ that is thy doom.
Vand. Then hang his worthy captain heres this
Hempfkirke, For profit of th' example.
Flo. No j let him
Enjoy
480 BEGGARS' BUStt
Enjoy his fhame too, with his confcious life 3 To fhew how much our innocence contemns All practice, from the guiltieft, to moleft us.
Vand. A noble prince !
Ger. Sir, you muft help to join A pair of hands, as they have done of hearts here, And to their loves wifh joy 6l.
Flo. As to mine own. ; My -gracious lifter ! worthieft brother !
Vand. I'll go afore, and have the bonfire made, My fireworks, and flap-dragons, and good backrack^; With a peck of little fifties, to drink down In healths to this day ! [Exit.
Hig. 'Slight, here be changes ; The bells ha' not fo many, nor a dance, Prigg.
Prigg. Our company's grown horrible thin by it. What think you, Ferret ?
Per. Marry, I do think, That we might all be lords now, if we could fland for't.
Hig. Not I, if they fhould offer it : I'll diflodge firfl, Remove the Bum into another climate.
Ger. Sir, you muft thank this worthy burgomafler. Here be friends aik to be look'd on too, And thank'd -, who, tho' their trade and courfe of life Be not fo perfect but it may be better'd, Have yet us'd me with courtefy, and been true Subjects unto me, while I was their king -, A place I know not well how to refign, Nor unto whom. But this I will entreat Your grace •, command them follow me to Bruges ; Where I will take the care on me to find Some manly, and more profitable courfe, To fit them as a part of the republick.
Flo. Do you hear, Sirs ? Do fo.
Hig. Thanks to your good grace !
Prigg. To your good lordfhip !
61 With joy."] Former editions. Seaward.
«* Backrack.] Salt-fifh. See Treaty of Peace.
Per.
BEGGARS* BUSH. 481
Per. May you both live long !
Ger. Attend me at Vandunke's, the burgomafter's.
[Exe. all but beggars.
Hig. Yes, to beat hemp, and be whipp'd twice
a-week,
Or turn the wheel for Crab the rope-maker -, Or learn to go along with him his conrfe (That's a fine courfe now) i'th' commonwealth: Prigg, What fay you to it ?
Prigg. It is the backward'ft courfe I know i' th' world.
Hig. Then Higgen will fcarce thrive by it, You do conclude ?
Prigg. 'Faith hardly, very hardly.
Hig. Troth, I am partly of your mind, prince Prigg. And therefore, farewell, Flanders i Higgen will feek Some fafer melter, in fome other climate, With this his tatter'd colony. Let me fee ; Snap, Ferret, Prigg, and Higgen, all are left Of the true blood : What, mall we into England ?
Prigg. Agreed.
hig. Then bear up bravely with your Brute 6?, my
lads!
Higgen hath prigg'd the prancers in his days, And fold good penny-worths : We will have a courfe; The fpirit of Bottom is grown bottomlefs.
Prigg. I'll maund no more, nor cant.
Hig. Yes, your fixpenny-worth In private, brother : Sixpence is a fum I'll fteal you any man's dog for.
Prigg. For fixpence more You'll tell the owner where he is.
Hig. 'Tis right :
Higgen muft practife, fo muft Prigg to eat ; And v/rite the letter, and gi' the word — But now
-^-~*-raam-Bamaaga!gaJ»*Ki'6a»Jg«P''lliiiii''ii»r». '
3 Brute.] Alluding to Brute, or Brutus, a Trojan, and defendant of ^Enea?, (aid to have landed, fettled, and reigned in England. See Milton's Hiftory of England.
VOL. II. Hh No
482 B E G G A R S' BUSH.
No more, as either of thefe 64
Prigg. But as true beggars As e'er we were — —
Hig. We ftand here for an Epilogue. Ladies, your bounties firft ! the reit will follow j For womens' favours are a leading alms : If you be pleas'd, look cheerly, throw your eyes Out at your mafks.
Prigg. And lei your beauties fparkle !
Hig. So may you ne'er want dreffings, jewels, gowns, Still in the fafhion !
Prigg. Nor the men you love, Wealth nor difcourfe to pleafe you !
Hig. May you, gentlemen,' Never want good frefh fuits, nor liberty !
Prigg. May every merchant here fee fafe his ventures !
Hig. And every honeft citizen his debts in !
Prigg. The lawyers gain good clients !
Hig. And the clients Good counfel ! ,
Prigg. All the gamefters here good fortune !
Hig. The drunkards, too, good wine !
Prigg. The eaters meat Fit for their tafles and palates !
Hig. The good wives Kind, hufbands !
Prigg. The young maids choice of fuitors !
Hig. The mid wives merry hearts !
Prigg. And" all good cheer !
Hig. As you are kind unto us and our Bum ! We are the Beggars, and your daily beadfmen, And have your money ; but the alms we afk, And live by, is your "grace:- Give that, and then We'll boldly fay our word is, come again !
6* No more, aseifberofthefe.'] i.e. No more as Higgen or Prigg, but as Attcrs ;;°for from hence they become fpeakers of epilogue.
T O
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 483
T O the fecond Volume of Bailey's Dictionary is annexed, ' A * Collection of the Canting Words and Terms, both ancient and mo- ' dern, ufed by Beggars, Gypfies, Cheats, Houfe breakers, Shop- ' lifters, JFoot-pads^ Highway-men, &c.' by an examination whereof the Cant appears to be not only an ejlablijbed, but zfyftematical lan guage. We thought it neceflary to recur to it, not only to fee whe ther there was an agreement between that collection and Theobald's Explanations, but alfo to derive (as there appeared frequent oppor tunity) a clearer and ftronger explication than that critick has given us. It mould have been premifed, that the explanation of the cant terms given in the edition of 1750, were collected by Mr. Seward from the marginal remarks of Mr. Theobald.
With refpect to the propriety, or authority, with which either Theobald or Bailey explain the cant terms, or whence they derived their knowledge of them, we can give no information ; but as none of thofe terms, printed by Mr. Seward, feem warranted by any deriva tion, and as fimilar terms, according to Bailey, have an apparent ad vantage in this refpect, we have been induced to vary the fpelling from the other editions, agreeable to that exhibited by Bailey. The Canter? oath has hitherto been printed in the following manner :
/ crown thy nab with a gng of benboufe,
And ft all thee by the falmon into the clonus,
To mand on the pad, and ftrike all the cheats ;
To mill from the rujfmans, and ccmmijlon andjlates J
Twang dell's, *' the itiromel, and let the quzre-cttffin,
And herman-becktrine, and trine to the rujfin.
In the firft line, gag feems devoid of meaning, while gage (which Bailey tells us fignifies a pot) conveys an idea of a <vej/elor meafure -, and bene (which feems derived from the Latin bene or the French lien) is more likely to have been ufed for good than ben* In the fecond, falamon (which Bailey renders, the beggars* facrament, or oath) leaves the verfe much imoother than falmon. In the fourth, the conjunction and (which is a modern interpolation) murders the poetry, and with it the fenfe ; as neff'mans, and commijion, and jfo/*f* feem to be three different claffes of people, or three different articles of fome kind, which were to be pillaged ; inftead si ruffmans mean ing the hedges or bujhes, from which the commijfion and/Sates (i. z.Jbirt and Jheets) were to be purloined. In the fifth, deir$ appearing as a genitive cafe, and having a comma after it, the pafTage is totally in explicable ; xn&Jliromel is not near fo agreeable to the verfe zsjlrom- mel, which, fays Bailey, means j?raiv. In the fixth line, edit. 1750, we read, Herman-Becktrine, which is totally unintelligible ; prior to that edition, Herman Beck fir ine : We have no doubt but our Authors wrote, harmanbecks (conftables, or beadles) trine (hang). The printer had miftakenly made s the initial letter of trine, inftead of the final of harmanbeck.
Hha Having
484 BEGGARS' BUSH.
Having thus mentioned fnch variations as we have made (in which we conceived ourfelves warranted by derivation, or metre, and fome- times by both) we (hall proceed to the explanation of the Cant Terms inade ufe of in this excellent Comedy, Beggars' Bufh ; notafiuming to ourfelves any very great merit from the depth of our refearches in the gully-bole of literature, and our proficiency in this mojl <vitlgar part of the 'vulgar tongue.
ABRAM-M AN, a beggar pretending to be mad. T.
BACK or BELLY-CHEATS, raiment, or food ftolen, T.
BEEN-WHIDS, good words. T.
BOUZE, drink. T.
BouztNG-KEN, ale houTe. T.
CACKLING-CHEATS, chickens. 9".
CLAPPERDUDCEON, a beggar born and bred. <T.
CLOWES, rogues. T.
COMMISSION, a (hirt. B.
COVE, a man, one not of the gang. T.
CRANKE, a genteej impoftor, appearing in divers (hapes. 7*.
DELLS, young wenches undebauched. 7~. DELLS, young ripe
wenches, who have not loft their virginity, which the Upright-Man (i. e. the viieft ftouteft rogue in the pack) has a right to the enjoy ment of ; after which they are ufed in common by the whole fraternity. B.
DOMMERER, pretending to have his tongue cutout. T. DOME-
RARS, or DROMMERARS, rogues, pretending to have had their tongues cut out, or to be born dumb and deaf, who artificially turn the tips of their tongues into their throats, and with a Hick make them bleed. B.
DOXIES, ftrumpets. 7".
GAMBLES, hands. T.
FILCHED, Hole. 7*.
FILCHES, ftaves. T. A FILCH, aftaft, with a hole thro' and a
ipike at the bottom, to pluck cloaths from a hedge, or any thing out of acafement. B.
FRAT ER, fuch as beg with fham patents, or briefs, for fpitals, prifons, fires, inundations, &c. B-
FUMBUMBIS, to your guard and poftures. 7".- - Although Mr. Theobald has explained this word with thofe ufed by Prigg in the next line, we rather \ti\d&.fumbuml)is2k fancied watch-word, than a c ant term.
GAGE OF BENE-BOWSE, a pot of ftrong liquor. B.
GRUNTING-CHEATS, pigs. 7".
HARMANBECKS, beadles. B.
HUM, ftrong liquor. 7".
JARKMAN, one who makes counterfeit licences, or palfes. T.
KEN, a houfe. B.
LAG OF DUDDS, a buck of cloaths ; as, • We'll cloy that lag ofduddi? * Come, let us fteal that buck of cloaths.' B.
LAMB'D, foundiy beaten. T.
LOUR,
B E G G A R S' BUSH. 485
LOUR, money. T.
MARGERY-PRATERS, hens. T.
MA UNO, beg. T.
MAUNDERS, beggars. T.
MILL, rob. T.
MORTS, women or wenches. T.
NAB, head. T.
NAB-CHEATS, hats. T.
NIGGLED, lain with, debauched. T.
PAD, the road or way. T.
PATRICO, drolling priefts that marry under a hedge. T. PATRI-
COVES, or PATER-COVES, ftrolling prices, that marry under a hedge, without Gofpel or Common-Prayer- Book : The couple Handing on each fide a dead beaft, are bid to live together till death them does part ; fo making hands, the wedding is ended. B.
PIG, fixpence. T.
PRIGG'D THE PRANCERS, ftole horfes. <T. TRIGGERS OP
PRANCERS, horfe- Healers, who carry a bridle in their pockets, and a fmall pad-faddle in their breeches. B.
PROP, either to his own fupport, or elfe by abbreviation to his own property. T.
QUEERE-CUFFIN, juflice of peace. B.
ROGERS, geefe. 7".
RUFFMANS, hedges. T.
RUFF IN, devil. T.
SALMON, oath. T. — SALAMON, the beggars1 facrament or oath. B.
SLATES, meets. T.
STALL, inftal. 7".— STALLING, making or ordaining. B.
STRIKE ALL THE CHEATS, rob all you meet. T.
STROMMEL, hay. B.
TIBS OF THE BUTTERY, goflings. T. Geefe. 5.-— It has
been fuggefted by one gentleman, that EGGS are meant by this term ; and by another, that it means RABBITS.
TRINE, hang. 7.
TWANG DELLS, lie with maids. Tt
JEND OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
12S2 4-/7
PR Beaumont, Francis
2420 The dramatick works of
1778 Beaumont and Fletcher
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