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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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