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iPresenteD  to 

library 

of  tbe 

of  Toronto 


Professor  W.J.Alexander 


3oo 


HEYWOOD'S 
DRAMATIC     WORKS 


HE  DRAMATIC  WORKS  OF 
THOMAS  HEYWOODNOW 
FIRST  COLLECTED  WITH 
ILLUSTRATIVE  NOTES  AND 
A  MEMOIR  OF  THE  AUTHOR 
IN  SIX  VOLUMES 


Aut  prodejfe  foknt  aut  dele  ft  are 
VOLUME    THE    FIRST 


LONDON 

JOHN  PEARSON  YORK  STREET  COVENT  GARDEN 
18/4 


2,570 


v,  i 
cop.2, 


CONTENTS 


VOLUME   THE  FIRST 

MEMOIR  OF  THOMAS  HEYWOOD 
FIRST  AND  SECOND  PARTS  OF  KING  EDWARD 
THE  FOURTH 

IF  YOU  KNOW    NOT    ME,  YOU    KNOW   NO  BODY, 

OR  THE  TROUBLES  OF  QUEEN  ELIZABETH 
THE  SECOND  PART  OF  IF  YOU  KNOW  NOT 

ME,  YOU  KNOW  NO  BODY 
NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOLUME   THE  SECOND 

THE  FAIRE  MAID  OF  THE  EXCHANGE 
A  WOMAN  KILLED  WITH  KINDNESSE 
THE  FOUR  PRENTISES  OF  LONDON 
THE  FAIRE  MAID  OF  THE  WEST 
NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


vi  CONTENTS 

VOLUME   THE   THIRD 

THE  GOLDEN  AGE 
THE  SILVER  AGE 
THE  BRAZEN  AGE 
THE  FIRST  AND  SECOND  PARTS  OF  THE 

IRON  AGE 
NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


VOLUME   THE  FOURTH 

THE  ENGLISH  TRAVELLER 

. 

A  MAIDENHEAD  WELL  LOST 
THE  LANCASHIRE  WITCHES 
LONDON'S  lus  HONORARIUM 
LONDINI  SINUS  SALUTIS 
LONDINI  SPECULUM 

( 

NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOLUME   THE  FIFTH 

\ 

A  CHALLENGE  FOR  BEAUTIE 
LOVES  MAISTRESSE 
THE  RAPE  OF  LUCRECE 
LONDINI  PORTA  PIETATIS 


CONTENTS  Vll 

THE  WISE  WOMAN  OF  HOGSDON 
LONDINI  STATUS  PACATUS 
NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 

VOLUME   THE  SIXTH 

THE  ROYALL  KING  AND  THE  LOYALL  SUBJECT 
PLEASANT  DIALOGUES  AND  DRAMMAS 
FORTUNE  BY  LAND  AND  SEA 
NOTES  AND  ILLUSTRATIONS 


Memoir  of 

THOMAS   HEYWOOD 


IHOMAS  HEYWOOD  was  probably 

one  of  the  moft  prolific  writers  of 
his  own,  or  of  any  other  age  or 
country ;  and  on  that  account  he  has 
fometimes  been  not  inappropriately  termed 
the  Englifh  Lope  de  Vega.  Befides  the  two 
hundred  and  twenty (i)  plays,  inwhich  he  "  had 
either  an  entire  hand  or  at  leaft  a  maine 
finger,"  he  was  the  author  of  Poems,  Hif- 
tories,  and  differtations  innumerable,  on  all 
fubjects  from  the  creation  of  the  world  down 
to  the  Spanifh  Armada ;  from  the  building  of 

(i)  It  muft  be  remembered  that  it  was  in  1633  that 
Hey  wood  made  this  affertion,  and  as  he  publifhed  feveral 
plays  after  that  date,  the  total  number  is  perhaps  under- 
ftated  here. 


x  Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

Noah's  ark  down  to  the  building  of  the  laft  new 
man-of-war,  and  of  all  fizes  from  ftately  folio 
down  to  modeft  duodecimo.  If,  therefore,  we 
were  to  eftimate  a  man's  life  by  the  number  and 
extent  of  his  works,  we  fhould  fay  that  Thomas 
Heywood  had  not  been  gathered  to  his  fathers 
until  he  had  arrived  at  a  ripe  old  age  ;  but 
whether,  according  to  the  ordinary  mode  of  cal 
culating  human  exiftence,  he  lived  to  any  great 
length  of  days,  the  few  materials  within  our  reach 
do  not  enable  us  to  afcertain.  The  time  of  his 
birth  and  death  are  alike  unknown  :  the  place  of 
the  firft  may  be  collected  from  his  works ;  but  as 
to  the  laft,  we  are  unable  to  trace  him  to  his 
grave.  We  learn  from  A  funer all  Elegy,  upon 
the  death  of  Sir  George  St.  Poole,  of  Lincolnefhire, 
my  Country-man,  (2)  that  he  was  a  native  of  that 
county ;  and  from  the  dedication  of  Cartwright's 
Edition  of  his  Apology  for  Actors,  that  he  was 
a  Fellow  of  Peter  Houfe,  Cambridge.  (3) 

(2)  Printed    in    Hey  wood's   P  leaf  ant   Dialogues   and 
Drammds,  Lond.  1637,  p.  252. 

(3)  Heywood  himfelf  in  his  Apology  for  Aftors  (1612) 
alludes  to  the  time  of  his    refidence  in  Cambridge : — 
"  In  the  time  of  my  refidence  in  Cambridge,  I  have  feen 
tragedyes,  comedyes,  historyes,    paflorals,    and   fhewes, 
publickly  acted,  in  which  the  graduates  of  good  place 
and  reputation  have  bene  fpecially  parted." 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.          xi 

This  ftatement  is  probably  correct,  and  nearly 
all  his  extant  works  difplay  extenfive  general 
reading,  and  confiderable  claffical  attainments. 
From  the  manner  in  which  he  alludes  to  his 
family,  (4)  it  may  be  inferred  that  it  held  a 
refpectable  rank  in  fociety :  in  the  Dedication 
to  The  Englijh  Traveller,  addreffed  to  Sir 
Henry  Appleton,  he  fpeaks  of  the  "  alter 
nate  love  and  thofe  frequent  courtefies  which 
interchangeably  paffed  between  yourfelf  and 
that  good  old  gentleman,  mine  uncle  (Mailer 
Edmund  Heywood),  whom  you  pleafed  to  grace 
by  the  title  of  father  ;"  and  in  the  fame  place,  he 
alludes  to  "  my  countryman,  Sir  William  Elvifh, 
whom,  for  his  unmerited  love,  many  ways  ex 
tended  to  me,  I  much  honour." 

In  what  year  Heywood  came  to  London  we 
have  no  account ;  but  on  the  I4th  October,  1596, 
a  perfon  whofe  name  Henflowe  fpells  "  Hawode" 
had  written  a  book,  or  play,  for  the  Lord  Ad 
miral's  Company.  On  the  25th  of  March,  1598, 
we  find  "Thomas  Hawoode"  regularly  engaged 
by  Henflowe  as  a  player  and  a  fharer  in  the  com 
pany.  From  this  date,  at  all  events  until  the 


(4)  It  may  here  be  noted  that  he  was  in  no  way  related 
to  John  Heywood,  the  elder  dramatift,  with  whom  Schegel 
feems  to  have  confounded  him. 


xii        Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

death  of  Queen  Anne,  the  wife  of  James  I.,  Hey 
wood  continued  on  the  flage  ;  for  in  the  account 
of  the  perfons  who  attended  her  funeral,  he  is 
introduced  as  "  one  of  her  majefty's  players." 
After  quitting  the  Lord  Admiral's  Company,  on 
the  acceffion  of  James  I.,  Heywood  became  one 
of  the  theatrical  fervants  of  the  Earl  of  Worcefter, 
and  was  by  that  nobleman  transferred  to  the 
queen.  "  I  was,  my  lord,"  (fays  Heywood  in 
dedicating  one  of  his  books  (5)  to  the  Earl  of  Wor 
cefter)  "  your  creature,  and  amongft  other  your 
fervants,  you  beftowed  me  upon  the  excellent 
Princeffe  Q.  Anne,  ....  but  by  her  lamented 
death  your  gift  is  returned  againe  into  your 
hands." 

On  the  authority  of  Henflowe  we  learn,  that 
in  December  1598,  he  wrote  a  piece  called  War 
without  Blows,  and  Love  without  Suit ;  and  in 
February,  1598-9,  (following)  another  entitled 
Joan  as  good  as  my  Lady.  Neither  of  thefe 
appears  now  to  be  extant,  either  in  a  printed  or 
manufcript  form.  The  four  Prentices  of  London, 
though  not  apparently  printed  until  1615,  mufl 
have  been  written  about  this  time.  (6) 

(5)  Nine  books  of  Various  Hi/lory  concerning  Women, 
folio,  Lond.  1624. 

(6)  Heywood  fpeaks  of  it  in  the  Dedication  as  "  written 
many  yeares  fmce,  in  my  Infancy  of  Judgment  in  this 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.       xiii 

His  firft  printed  productions  were  the  feries 
of  hiftorical  plays  on  Edward  the  Fourth  and 
Queen  Elizabeth.  Thefe  were  publifhed  furrep- 
titioufly  and  without  his  name — the  former  in 
1600,  and  the  latter  in  1605-6.  Both  are  in 
black  letter.  The  text  of  the  firft  part  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  is,  as  the  author  himfelf  complains, 
very  corrupt,  and  can  only  be  confidered  the 
fragment  of  a  play.  We  may  affume  that  it 
found  its  way  to  the  prefs  by  means  of  fhort- 
hand  notes,  taken  in  the  theatre  while  the  drama 
was  in  courfe  of  reprefentation.  Why  the 
author  did  not  think  it  worth  while,  in  any  fub- 
fequent  impreflion,  to  render  it  more  complete, 
we  know  not.  The  fecond  part,  which  deals  with 
the  events  of  Elizabeth's  reign,  is,  as  our  readers 
will  perceive,  much  more  perfect,  and  runs  out  to 
a  much  greater  length :  from  that,  we  feel  per- 
fuaded,  nothing  important  was  omitted.  We 
probably  have  it  in  the  editions  of  1606,  1609, 
and  1623,  pretty  much  in  the  form  in  which  it 
came  from  Hey  wood's  pen,  when  it  was  firft 
a6led,  quite  early  in  the  reign  of  James  I.  In 
the  edition  of  1633  we  find  it  moft  materially 


kinde  of  Poetry,  and  my  firft  pradlife  :" — and  further  on 
he  fayes  :  "  as  Playes  were  then  fome  fifteens  or  fixteene 
yeares  a&oe  it  was  in  the  fafhion." 


xiv       Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

altered  fubfequent  to  the  "  Chorus,"  and  the 
"  Chorus "  itfelf  is  there  new,  having  been  de- 
figned  to  prepare  the  fpectators  for  the  great 
event  about  to  fucceed  in  the  reprefentation,  viz., 
the  defeat  of  the  Spanifh  Armada.  This  inci 
dent  had  been  but  briefly  and  imperfectly  treated 
in  previous  editions,  and  it  feems  more  than 
likely  that  Heywood  himfelf  introduced  the 
changes,  and  made  the  additions,  on  revival, 
for  the  fake  of  giving  the  drama  increafed  effect 
and  greater  novelty.  That  revival,  we  take  it, 
followed  the  revival  of  the  firft  part  of  the  fame 
fubje6l,  and  was  perhaps  confequent  upon  the 
favour  with  which  its  renewed  performance  had 
been  received  by  public  audiences  at  the  Cock 
pit  Theatre. 

Our  impreffion  of  this  portion  of  the  drama 
(we  mean  the  portion  including  and  following 
the  "  Chorus  ")  is  from  the  edition  of  1633,  under 
the  perfuafion  that  the  author  meant  that  his 
work  mould  permanently  (as  far  as  fuch  produc 
tions  were  at  that  period  confidered  permanent) 
bear  that  fhape.  However,  for  greater  com- 
pletenefs,  and  to  afford  ready  means  of  compari- 
fon,  we  have  fubjoined  the  brief  fcenes  of  this 
conclufion  of  the  drama,  as  they  appear  in  the 
earlier  impreffions. 

Befides  the  firft  part  of  If  You  know  not  Me, 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.        xv 

You  know  Nobody,  which  is  devoted  to  the 
"  Troubles  of  Queen  Elizabeth,"  Heywood  left 
behind  him  a  profe  narrative  of  the  events  of 
her  life,  from  the  elevation  of  her  fitter  to  her 
own  acceffion.  In  this  hiftory  he  goes  over  many 
of  the  circumftances  of  his  play ;  and  it  is  the 
more  worthy  of  attention,  becaufe  it  may  be  faid 
in  a  degree  to  fupply  fome  of  the  obvious  de 
ficiencies  of  his  drama,  in  the  curtailed  and 
decrepit  fhape  in  which  it  has  reached  our 
hands.  In  the  Notes  to  this  volume  we  fupply 
fuch  extracts  from  it  as  afford  illustrations  of 
the  fcenes  of  the  drama.  It  was  printed  in  Lon 
don,  with  the  following  title  : — 

"  England's  Elizabeth  :  her  Life  and  Troubles,  during 
her  Minoritie  from  the  Cradle  to  the  Crowne.  Hiftorically 
laid  open  and  interwoven  with  fuch  eminent  Paffages  of 
State  as  happened  under  the  Reigne  of  Henry  the  Eight, 
Edward  the  Sixt,  Q.  Mary  ;  all  of  them  aptly  introducing 
to  the  prefent  Relation.  By  Tho.  Heywood. — London, 
printed  by  John  Beale,  for  Philip  Waterhoufe,  and  are  to 
be  fold  at  his  Shop  at  St.  Paul's  head,  neere  Lo-ndon- 
ftone.  1631." 

This  is  a  fmall  duodecimo  of  234  pages,  be- 
fides  the  preliminary  matter. 

Two  of  Hey  wood's  befh  plays.  A  Woman  killed 
with  Kindnefs,  and  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  Ex 
change,  were  printed  in  1607.  The  date  at 
which  the  former  was  originally  brought  out,  is 


xvi        Memoir  of  Thomas  Hey  wood. 

afcertained  with  unufual  precifion  from  Hen- 
flowe's  Diary,  as  printed  by  the  Shakefpeare 
Society  in  1845,  pp.  249,  250,  where  the  follow 
ing  entries  occur : — 

"  Paid,  at  the  appointment  of  the  company,  the  6th 
of  March,  1602,  unto  Thomas  Hey  wood,  in  full 
payment  for  his  play,  called  A  Woman  Killed 
with  Kindnefs,  the  fum  of £3" 

"  Paid,  at  the  appointment  of  Thomas  Blackwood, 
the  7th  of  March,  1602,  unto  the  tailor  which 
made  the  black  fatin  fuit  for  the  Woman  killed 
with  Kindnefs,  the  fum  of lew." 

The  play,  therefore,  was  finifhed  when  Hen- 
flowe  paid  £3  for  it ;  and  we  may  conclude, 
perhaps,  that  the  "  black  fatin  fuit "  was  worn  by 
the  hero  after  the  fall  of  his  wife,  and  when  fhe 
was  dying,  in  confequence  of  the  undeferved 
tendernefs  with  which  fhe  had  been  treated  by 
her  forgiving  husband.  Nothing  can  be  more 
tragically  touching  than  the  later  fcenes  of  this 
fine  moral  play. 

The  earliefl  printed  notice  yet  difcovered  of 
A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindnefs  is  found  in  The 
Blacke  Booke,  by  T.  M.,  1604,  where  it  is. coupled 
with  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton.  The  words 
of  the  author  are  : — 

"  And  being  fet  out  of  the  Shoppe,  (with  her  man  afore 
her,  to  quench  the  jealouzie  of  her  Husband)  fhee,  by  thy 
inftruclions,  (hall  turne  the  honefl.  fimple  fellow  off  at  the 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Hey  wood.      xvii 

next  turning,  and  give  him  leave  to  fee  the  merry  Dwell 
of  Edmunton,  or  a  Woman  kild  with  kindneffe,  when 
his  Miftrefs  is  going  her  felfe  to  the  fame  murther." 

Of  The  Faire  Maid  of  the  Exchange  Mr.  Bar- 
ron  Field  gives  the  following  account : — 

"  The  Royal  Exchange  was  then  full  of  mops,  like  a 
bazaar.  The  Fair  Maid,  Phillis  Flower,  though  her 
parents  are  wealthy,  is  an  apprentice  to  a  fempftrefs  in  this 
Exchange ;  and,  one  night,  in  company  with  a  female 
fervant,  taking  home  fome  work  to  a  lady  at  Mile-End, 
they  are  affaulted  by  Scarlet  and  Bobbington,  two  men  of 
broken  fortune,  from  whom  they  are  at  firft  refcued  by 
the  Cripple  with  his  crutch ;  and,  the  ruffians  having  re 
turned,  fecondly  by  the  affiftanee  of  Frank  Goulding,  the 
lovjr-hero  of  the  comedy.  Grateful  for  their  fervices  the 
Fair  Maid  falls  in  love,  not  with  Frank,  but  with  the  Crip 
ple.  Frank  is  the  younger  brother  of  Ferdinand  and  An 
thony  Goulding,  who  afterwards  feverally  confide  to  him 
their  paffion  for  the  fame  Fair  Maid.  Frank  feoffs  at 
love,  but  is  fubfequently  himfelf  caught  in  the  very  fame 
mare.  The  two  elder  brothers,  overhearing  each  other 
confefs  their  love  for  the  fame  object,  fet  about  mutual 
circumvention,  and  entrufl  their  refpedlive  flratagems  to 
Frank,  who,  by  the  help  of  his  friend  the  Cripple,  cheats 
them  both,  and  in  the  difguife  of  his  "  crooked  habit," 
eventually  gains  the  hand  of  the  Fair  Maid.  Her  father 
had  favoured  the  fuit  of  Ferdinand,  and  her  mother  that 
of  Anthony  ;  but  they  are  all  out-witted  by  Frank,  and 
rejected  by  Phillis.  Our  dramatifl  has  not  dared  to  let 
his  deformed  Cripple  accept  the  offered  love  of  the  hero 
ine  ;  and  this  at  the  expenfe  of  deflroying  the  interefl  we 
take  in  her,  by  making  her  mofl  unaccountably  transfer 

b 


xviii     Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

her  affections  at  laft,  for  the  mere"purpofe  of  letting  the 
curtain  fall  upon  her  marriage  with  fomebody.  But  this 
is  a  comedy  of  intrigue,  though  containing  one  well-drawn 
character ;  and  in  comedies  of  intrigue  the  ladies  refera 
ble  pullets,  who  transfer  their  affections  to  the  cunningefl 
conqueror,  and  are  as  readily  deceived  by  the  difguife 
of  drefs  as  Dame  Partlet  takes  a  lump  of  chalk  for  an 

egg- 

"  To  conclude  the  argument  of  this  comedy.  There  is 
an  underplot,  which  is  not  fo  good.  Bowdler  and  Bernard, 
two  fpendthrifts,  but  friends  of  the  Cripple,  make  love  to 
Moll  Berry,  who  treats  both  with  witty  difdain  ;  but  is 
really  in  love  with  Bowdler,  and  even  affiances  herfelf  to 
him.  Bernard  owes  her  father  a  hundred  pounds,  for 
which  he  caufes  him  to  be  arrefled  ;  when  the  Cripple  per- 
fuades  her,  moft  unaccountably,  that  me  is  in  love  with 
Bernard,  and  to  marry  him  :  this  me  does,  and  then  offers 
herfelf  to  her  father,  as  bail  for  her  husband,  who,  upon 
the  ufual  promife  of  reform,  is  forgiven  and  releafed. 
•There  is  a  ftill  more  unneceffary  incident  of  Matter  Flower's 
lending  Bobbington  ten  pounds  upon  a  diamond,  which 
afterwards  appears  to  have  been  ftolen  ;  and  the  comedy 
concludes  with  the  father  of  our  bride  and  bridegroom 
being  taken  before  the  judges  upon  a  charge  of  felony, 
leaving  us  in  ignorance  of  the  remit." 

In  his  Specimens  Charles  Lamb,  after  quoting 
the  fcene  where  Cripple  offers  to  fit  Frank 
Golding  with  ready-made  Love  Epiftles,  ob- 
ferves : — 

'*  The  above  fatire  againfl  fome  dramatic  plagiarifts  of 
the  time  is  put  into  the  mouth  of  the  Cripple,  who  is  an 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Hey  wood.       xix 

excellent  fellow,  and  the  hero  of  the  comedy.  Of  his 
humour  this  extract  is  a  fuffi cient  fpecimen  ;  but  he  is  de- 
fcribed  (albeit  a  tradefman,  yet  wealthy  withal)  with 
heroic  qualities  of  mind  and  body  ;  the  latter  of  which 
he  evinces  by  refcuing  his  miftrefs  (the  Fair  Maid)  from 
three  robbers  by  the  main  force  of  one  crutch  luftily  ap 
plied  ;  and  the  former  by  his  foregoing  the  advantages 
which  this  action  gained  him  in  her  good  opinion,  and 
beftowing  his  wit  and  fineffe  in  procuring  for  her  a  huf- 
band  in  the  perfon  of  his  friend  Golding,  more  worthy  of 
her  beauty,  than  he  could  conceive  his  own  maimed  and 
halting  limbs  to  be.  It  would  require  fome  boldness  in  a 
dramatifl  now-a-days  to  exhibit  fuch  a  character  ;  and 
fome  luck  in  finding  a  fumcient  actor,  who  would  be  will 
ing  to  perfonate  the  infirmities,  together  with  the  virtues 
of  the  noble  cripple." 

In  1608  The  Rape  of  Lucrecewas  publifhed  in 
its  firft  form  ;  but  in  later  editions  it  was  confi- 
derably  enlarged,  and  fome  new  fongs  were 
added.  Of  this  play,  a  modern  writer  has  thus 
fpoken  : — 

"  The  Rape  of  Lucrece  is  a  fort  of  dramatic  monfler,  in 
the  conftruction  of  which  every  rule  of  propriety  is  vio 
lated,  and  all  grace  and  fymmetry  are  fet  at  defiance.  The 
author,  one  would  fuppofe,  mud  have  produced  it  when  in 
a  flate  of  inebriety  ;  in  which  a  man  of  genius  may  fre 
quently,  amidft  ftrange  and  foolifh  things,  give  birth  to 
poetical  and  impaffioned  conceptions.  The  dignified  cha 
racters  of  Roman  flory  are,  in  this  play,  really  infected 
with  the  madnefs  which  Brutus  only  affumes.  But,  with  an 
exuberance  of  buffoonery  and  conceits,  are  mingled  a  con- 

b  2 


xx        Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

fiderable  portion  of  poetry  and  fome  powerful  fcenes. 
Upon  the  whole,  this  fmgular  competition,  with  all  its  ab- 
furdities,  contains  fo  much  that  is  really  excellent,  that 
it  is  well  worthy  of  forming  a  part  of  this  collec 
tion."  (7) 

The  Four  Ages,  which  extended  in  time  of 
publication  over  more  than  twenty  years,  form 
in  their  complete  fequence  one  of  Heywood's 
moft  interefting  and  important  works.  He  has 
dealt  very  beautifully  with  the  old  mythological 
legends  ;  though  he  is  doubtlefs  under  very  confi- 
derable  obligations  to  his  great  predeceffor  Ovid. 

Of  thefe  five  plays,  7 he  Golden  Age  appeared 
in  1611  ;  the  Silver  and  Brazen  Ages  in  1613, 
and  the  two  parts  of  TJte  Iron  Age  not  until  1632. 

It  was  the  intention  of  Heywood  to  have  pub- 
limed  them  together  eventually  in  one  "  hand- 
fome Volume," and  "to  illuftrate  the  whole  Worke, 
with  an  Explanation  of  all  the  difficulties,  and  an 
Hiftoricall  Comment  of  every  hard  name,  which 
may  appeare  obfcure  or  intricate  to  fuch  as  are 
not  frequent  in  Poetry."  Circumftances,  how 
ever,  prevented  the  accomplimment  of  this  pur- 
pofe  ;  though  the  author  lived  for  fome  years 
afterwards. 

(7)  Preface  to  the  Reprint  of  Heywood's  Rape  of  Lu~ 
crece  in  The  Old  Englijh  Drama,  a  Seleflion  of  Plays 
from  the  Old  Englijh  Dramatifts.  Lond.  1824. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.       xxi 

Heywood  wrote  all  the  known  pageants  for 
Lord  Mayor's  Day,  between  1630  and  1640, 
when  they  ceafed  for  fome  years  to  be  exhi 
bited.  Such  of  thefe  as  were  extant  or  accef- 
fible  have  been  included  in  the  prefent  volumes. 

The  two  parts  of  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  Weft 
were  printed  in  1631.  They  were  in  exiftence 
in  1617,  when  an  attack  was  made  upon  the 
Cock  -pit  theatre,  in  Drury  Lane,  where  they  had 
been  frequently  acted.  There  is  no  doubt 
that  they  long  continued  popular  performances  ; 
and  we  may  imagine  that  a  printed  edition  was 
called  for,  becaufe  their  reputation  had  led  to 
their  recent  performance  before  the  King  and 
Queen. 

Great  and  many  allowances  mufb  be  made  for 
the  conftruction  and  conduct  of  the  ftory.  What 
would  tell  extremely  well  in  a  narrative,  would 
fometimes  appear  violent  and  improbable  on  the 
ftage.  Confidering  the  difficulties  with  which 
Heywood  in  this  relpect  had  to  contend  (aiding 
himfelf,  however,  by  Chorus  and  dumb-fhow), 
it  cannot  be  difputed  that  he  has  difplayed  much 
fkill  andjngenuity.  There  are  abundant  inftances 
of  rapid  alterations  of  the  fcene  of  action,  and 
of  as  frequent  appeals,  therefore,  to  the  imagina 
tion  of  the  fpectators  :  in  the  fourth  Act,  it  is 
transferred  at  once  from  Cornwall  to  Morocco, 


xxii     Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

and  from  Morocco  to  the  Azores  ;  but  nobody 
is  kept  for  more  than  a  moment  in  fufpenfe  as  to 
the  place  reprefented.  The  buftle  is  unceafing, 
and  attention  never  wearies.  For  the  coarfenefs 
of  a  fmall  portion  of  the  comic  bufinefs,  the  ufua* 
excufe  muft  be  found  in  the  manners  of  the 
time ;  and,  at  all  events,  it  was  not  fuch  as  the 
King  and  Queen  could  not  fit  patiently  to  hear? 
and  they  perhaps  liftened  to  it  with  as  much  en 
joyment  as  lefs  exalted  auditors.  The  poetry 
and  pathos  of  fome  of  the  fcenes  in  which  the 
hero  and  heroine  are  engaged  cannot  be  too 
highly  praifed :  it  is  extremely  touching,  from 
its  truth  to  nature  and  its  graceful  fimplicity, 
without  the  flighteft  apparent  effort  on  the  part 
of  the  author.  The  characters  are  ftrongly 
drawn  and  clearly  diftinguifhed,  while  that  of  the 
heroine  is  admirably  preferved  and  is  conftantly 
attractive.  (8) 

The  EnglifJi  Traveller  was  publifhed  in  1633. 

"  Heywood's  Preface  to  this  Play,"  fays  Charles  Lamb, 
"  is  interefting,  as  it  fhows  the  heroic  indifference  about 
poflerity,  which  fome  of  thefe  great  writers  fee'm  to  have 
felt.  There  is  a  magnanimity  in  authormip  as  in  every 
thing  elfe.  Of  the  two  hundred  and  twenty  pieces  which 

(8)  See  Mr.  Payne  Collier's  Introduction  to  The  Fair 
Maid  of  the  Weft,  as  printed  for  the  Shakefpeare  Society 
in  1850. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.     xxiii 

he  here  fpeaks  of  having  been  concerned  in,  only  twenty- 
,  five  have  come  down  to  us,  for  the  reafons  affigned  in  the 
.^reface.  The  reft  have  perifhed,  expofed  to  the  cafualties 
df  a  theatre.  Heywood's  ambition  feems  to  have  been 
onfined  to  the  pleafure  of  hearing  the  players  fpeak  his 
Ihes  while  he  lived.  It  does  not  appear  that  he  ever  con 
templated  the  poffibility  of  being  read  by  after  ages.  What 
a  lender  pittance  of  fame  was  motive  fufficient  to  the  pro- 
diftion  of  fuch  plays  as  the  The  Englijh  Traveller,  the 
Challenge  for  Beauty,  and  the  Woman  Killed  with  Kind- 
nej  /  Poflerity  is  bound  to  take  care  that  a  writer  lofes 
nohing  by  fuch  a  noble  modefly." 

leywood's  "  own  account,"  fays  Hazlitt,  "  makes  the 
nunber  of  his  writings  for  the  ftage,  or  thofe  in  which  he 
hadimain  hand,  upwards  of  two  hundred.  In  fact,  I  do 
not  yonder  at  any  quantity  that  an  author  is  faid  to  have 
•writ  en ;  for  the  more  a  man  writes,  the  more  he  can 
vrita." 

A  Maidenhead  Well  Loft  followed  in  1634. 
This  is  one  of  the  beft  of  Heywood's  roman- 
ic  plays ;  the  ftory  is  developed  with  fweet 
petic  feeling,  and  the  whole  has  about  it  the  air 
;nd  the  charm  of  a  fairy-tale.  In  the  fame  year 
jppeared  The  late  Lancajhire  Witches,  a  comedy 
h  which  he  was  affifted  by  Richard  Brome,  who 
'.ad  formerly  been  a  fervant  of  Ben  Jonfon,  but 
•/ho  had  at  this  time  raifed  himfelf  to  confider- 
,ble  repute  by  his  writings  for  the  ftage.  Thofe 


xxiv     Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

who  are  acquainted  with  his  other  plays,  which 
have  lately  been  reprinted,  will  probably  find 
little  difficulty  in  difcriminating  between  his  por 
tions  of  the  comedy  and  thofe  of  Heywood. 

This  play  was  recently  reprinted  by  Mr.  Hall- 
well,  but  without  annotation. 

In  1636  appeared  A  Challenge  for  Beautie,  aid 
Loves  Miftris.  Of  the  former  fome  account  vfll 
be  found  in  a  fubfequent  page  :  the  latter — it  niy 
be  remarked — is  an  exquifite,  airy  dramatization 
of  the  old  claflical  ftory  of  Cupid  and  Pyfchj — 
fmgularly  happy  in  its  felicitous  touches  of  pof  ry 
that  feem  to  come  unfought,  and  in  its  eiiire 
freedom  from  all  taint  of  vulgarity. 

The  remaining  extant  plays  of  Heywooc  are 
The  Royall  King  and  Loyal  Subject,  publihed 
in  1637;  The  Wife  Woman  of  Hogsdon,  163$; 
and  Fortune  by  Land  and  Sea,  written  in  con 
junction  with  William  Rowley,  and  publifhc 
apparently  for  the  firft  time  fome  years  aft 
Heywood's  death,  in  1655. 

His    lateft     dated    production    appeared 
1641  ;  (9)   but  we   may  perhaps  infer,  from  t! 
following  lines  that  he  was  Hill  living  in  164* 
they  are  from  A   Satire  againft  Separatifls 
lifhed  in  that  year  : 


(9)  The  Life  of  Ambrofius  Merlin. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.      xxv 

"  So  may  rare  Pageants  grace  the  Lord  Mayor's  fhow  : 
And  none  find  out  that  they  are  idols  too  : 
So  may  you  come  to  deep  in  fur  at  laft, 
And  fome  Smectymnuan,  when  your  days  are  paft, 
Your  funeral  fermon  of  fix  hours  rehearfe, 
And  Heywood  fing  your  acts  in  lofty  verfe." 

We  proceed  to  fubjoin  the  teftimonies  of  the 
beft  authorities  reflecting  Heywood's  claims  as 
a  dramatift.  We  begin  with  Charles  Lamb,  who 
thus  writes : — 

"  If  I  were  to  be  confulted  as  to  a  Reprint  of  our  Old 
Englifh  Dramatifts.,  I  mould  advife  to  begin  with  the  col 
lected  Plays  of  Heywood.  He  was  a  fellow  Actor,  and 
fellow  Dramatift,  with  Shakefpeare.  He  poffeffed  not  the 
imagination  of  the  latter  ;  but  in  all  thofe  qualities  which 
gained  for  Shakefpeare  the  attribute  of  gentle,  he  was  not 
inferior  to  him.  Generofity,  courtefy,  temperance  in  the 
depths  of  paffion  ;  fweetnefs,  in  a  word,  and  gentlenefs ; 
Chriftianifm  ;  and  true  hearty  Anglicifm  of  feelings,  map- 
ing  that  Chriftianifm,  mine  throughout  his  beautiful  writ 
ings  in  a  manner  more  confpicuous  than  in  thofe  of 
Shakefpeare  ;  but  only  more  confpicuous,  inafmuch  as  in 
Heywood  thefe  qualities  are  primary,  in  the  other  fubordi- 
nate  to  poetry.  Heywood  mould  be  known  to  his  country 
men,  as  he  deferves.  His  plots  are  almoft  invariably 
Englifh." 

In  another  place  he  adds  : — 

"  Heywood  is  a  fort  of  profe  Shakefpeare.  His  fcenes 
are  to  the  full  as  natural  and  affecting.  But  we  mifs  the 
Poet,  that  which  in  Shakefpere  always  appears  out  and 


xxvi     Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

above  the  furface  of  the  nature.  Heywood's  characters, 
his  country  gentlemen,  &c.,  are  exactly  what  we  fee  (but 
of  the  beft  kind  of  what  we  fee)  in  life." 

.  William  Hazlitt,  in  his  Lectures  on  the  Dra 
matic  Literature  of  the  Age  of  Elizabeth,  (peaks 
of  Heywood  in  the  following  terms  :  — 

"Heywood's  imagination  is  a  gentle,  lambent  flame, 
that  purifies  without  confuming.  'His  manner  is  fimplicity 
itfelf.  There  is  nothing  fupernatural,  nothing  flartling  or 
terrific.  He  makes  ufe  of  the  commoneft  circumflances 
of  every-day  life,  and  of  the  eafieft  tempers,  to  mow  the 
workings  or  rather  the  inefficacy  of  the  paffions,  the  vis 
inerticB  of  tragedy.  His  incidents  flrike  from  their  very 
familiarity,  and  the  diflreffes  he  paints  invite  our  fympathy 
from  the  calmnefs  and  refignation  with  which  they  are 
borne.  The  pathos  might  be  deemed  purer  from  its  hav 
ing  no  mixture  of  turbulence  or  vindiclivenefs  in  it ;  and 
in  proportion  as  the  fufferers  are  made  to  deferve  a  better 
fate.  In  the  midft  of  the  mofl  untoward  reverfes  and  cut 
ting  injuries,  good  nature  and  good  fenfe  keep  their  ac- 
cuftomed  fway.  He  defcribes  men's  errors  with  tendernefs, 
and  their  duties  only  with  zeal,  and  the  heightenings  of  a 
poetic  fancy.  His  flyle  is  equally  natural,  fimple,  and 
unconflrained.  The  dialogue  (bating  the  verfe)  is  fuch  as 
might  be  uttered  in  ordinary  converfation.  It  is  beau 
tiful  profe  put  into  heroic  meaiure.  It  is  not  fo  much 
that  he  ufes  the  common  Englifh  idiom  for  everything 
(for  that  the  mofl  poetical  and  impaffioned  of  our  elder 
dramatifls  do  equally),  but  the  fimplicity  of  the  characters, 
and  the  equable  flow  of  the  fentiments  do  not  require  or 
fuffer  it  to  be  warped  from  the  tone  of  level  fpeaking,  by 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.    xxvii 

figurative  expreffions,  or  hyperbolical  allufions.  A  few 
fcattered  exceptions  occur  now  and  then,  where  the  hectic 
flufh  of  paffion  forces  them  from  the  lips,  and  they  are  not 
the  worfe  for  being  rare.  In  the  play  called  A  Woman 
Killed  with  Kindnefs,  fuch  poetical  ornaments  are  to  be 
met  with  at  confiderable  Intervals,  (10)  and  do  not  diflurb 
the  calm  ferenity  and  domeflic  fimplicity  of  the  author's 
ftyle.  The  conclufion  of  Wendell's  declaration  of  love  to 
Mrs.  Frankford  may  ferve  as  an  illuflration  of  its  general 
merits,  both  as  to  purity  of  thought  and  diction,  (n) 

The  winding  up  of  this  play  is  rather  awkwardly 
managed,  and  the  moral  is,  according  to  eflablilhed  ufage, 
equivocal.  The  view  here  given  of  country  manners  is 
truly  edifying.  The  frequent  quarrels  and  ferocious  habits 
of  private  life  are  well  expofed  in  the  fatal  rencounter  be 
tween  Sir  Francis  Acton  and  Sir  Charles  Mountford  about 
a  hawking  match,  in  the  ruin  and  rancorous  perfecution 
of  the  latter  in  confequence,  and  in  the  hard,  unfeeling, 
cold-blooded  treatment  he  receives  in  his  diflrefs  from  his 
own  relations,  and  from  a  fellow  of  the  name  of  Shafton. 
After  reading  the  fketch  of  this  laft  character,  who  is  intro 
duced  as  a  mere  ordinary  perfonage,  the  reprefentative  of 
a  clafs,  without  any  preface  or  apology,  no  one  can  doubt 
the  credibility  of  that  of  Sir  Giles  Overreach.  The  callous 
declaration  of  one  of  thefe  unconfcionable  churls, 
"  This  is  no  world  in  which  to  pity  men," 
might  have  been  taken  as  a  motto  for  the  good  old  times 
in  general,  and  with  a  very  few  refervations,  if  Hey  wood 
has  not  groffly  libelled  them. 

(10)  Three  instances  are  given,  which  the  reader  will 
perhaps  prefer  to  find  out  for  himfelf. — ED. 
(n)  Fair,  and  of  all  beloved,"  &c.     See  Vol.  II.  p.  112. 


xxviii  Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

Heywood's  plots  have  little  of  artifice  or  regularity  01 
defign  to  recommend  them.  He  writes  on  careleffiy,  as 
it  happens,  and  trufts  to  Nature  and  a  certain  happy  tran 
quillity  of  fpirit,  for  gaining  the  favour  of  the  audience.  He 
is  faid,  befides  attending  to  his  duties  as  an  aclor,  to  have 
compofed  regularly  a  meet  a  day.  This  may  account  in 
fome  meafure  for  the  unembarraffed  facility  of  his  flyle. 

The  fame  remarks  will  apply  with  certain  modifications, 
to  other  remaining  works  of  this  writer,  the  Royal  King 
and  Loyal  Subjeft,  A  Challenge  for  Beauty,  and  The 
Engli/h  Traveller.  The  barb  of  misfortune  is  fheathed 
in  the  mildnefs  of  the  writer's  temperament,  and  the  flory 
jogs  en  very  comfortably  without  effort  or  refiftance,  to 
the  eutkanajla  of  the  cataflrophe.  In  two  of  thefe  the 
perfon  principally  aggrieved  furvives,  and  feels  himfelf 
none  the  worfe  for  it. 

The  following  criticifm  of  Heywood's  Plays 
is  from  an  article  in  the  Retrofpeftwe  Re 
view  (12) : — 

The  character  of  his  dramas  is  very  various — he  is  fo 
diffimilar  from  himfelf,  that  we  are  tempted  to  doubt  his 
identity.  One  can  only  reconcile  the  fact  of  his  having 
written  fome  of  the  plays  afcribed  to  him  by  fuppofing, 
with  Kirkman,  that  he  wrote  them  loofely  in  taverns,  or 
that  he  was  fpurred  on  to  their  hafty  production  by  necef- 
fity ;  or  laftly,  that  he  did  not  originate,  but  only  added 
to  and  altered  many  of  them.  How  elfe  can  we  account 
for  the  author  of  A  Woman  killed  with  Kindnefs,  and 
The  Engli/h  Traveller,  writing  fuch  plays  as  Edward  IV., 
The  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange,  &c.  We  will  ilightly 

(12)  Lond.  1825,  vol.  xi.  pp.  126—154. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.     xxix 

notice  thefe  inferior  productions  before  we  fpeak  of  thofe 
of  a  more  elevated  kind. 

The  play  of  Edward  IV.  is  a  long  and  tedious  bufi- 
nefs.  There  are  one  or  two  touching  parts  in  thofe  fcenes 
in  which  Jane  Shore  is  introduced,  but  Heywood  has  not 
made  anything  like  what  he  might  have  done  with  fuch 
materials,  nor,  indeed,  anything  at  all  approaching  to 
what  he  has  himfelf  done  in  other  pieces.  With  the  ex 
ception  of  thofe  parts,  the  play  is  mere  chronicle,  without 
poetry  or  dramatic  fituation.  The  character  of  Matthew 
Shore,  however,  is  not  bad  ;  and  there  is,  in  the  midft  of 
the  mifery  and  difafler  with  which  the  play  abounds, 
a  fpirit  of  kindnefs  and  humanity  which  obtains  our  good 
will,  notwithflanding  we  find  fo  little  to  excite  our  feelings. 
The  author  has  made  Richard  III.  a  very  vulgar  villain. 
The  iirft  part  of  the  play  of  If  you  know  not  me, you  know 
Nobody  ;  or,  the  Troubles  of  Queen  Elizabeth — of  the  in 
accurate  printing  of  which  the  author  very  much  com 
plains — poffeffes  neither  character,  paffion,  nor  poetry. 
The  fecond  part  has  a  more  poetical  air  about  it,  and  pof 
feffes  more  of  character  than  the  firft.  Old  Hobfon,  a 
blunt,  honefl,  and  charitable  citizen;  John  Gremam,  a 
wild,  indomitable  youth ;  and  Timothy,  a  puritanical 
hypocrite  and  knave,  are  well  difcriminated.  The  only 
foundation  for  the  ftrange  title  of  this  piece  is  the  anfwer 
of  old  Hobfon  to  an  inquiry  made  by  the  Queen, 
"  Knoweft  thou  not  me  ?  then  thou  knowefl  nobody." 

The  Wife  Woman  of  Hogfdon  is  characterized  by 
fome  humorous  fituations,  but  pofleffes  little  intereft  and 
lefs  poetry.  Sir  Boniface,  one  of  the  characters,  is  a 
humorous  caricature  of  a  pedant.  The  Fair  Maid  of  the 
Exchange  (Hey wood's  title  to  which  is  exceedingly  doubt 
ful)  and  The  Fair  Maid  of  the  Weft  are  hardly  worthy  of 


xxx      Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

notice.  The  Four  Prentices  of  London  is  a  rhyming, 
braggart  production,  which  is  ridiculed  in  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher's  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pejlle.  A  Maiden-head 
well  lojl  is  not  worth  finding,  and  the  Four  Ages  are  as 
poor  as  the  author  is  faid  to  have  been  by  a  writer  of  the 
day,  who  obferves  that — 

'  Well  of  the  golden  age  he  could  entreat, 
But  little  of  the  metal  he  could  get.' 

How  different  in  flyle,  in  pathos,  in  the  very  tone  of  o: 
nary  feeling,  are  thefe  from  the  plays  we  are  about  to 
mention. 

Heywood's  bed  comedies  are  diflinguifhed  by  a  pecu 
liar  air,  a  fuperior  manner  ;  his  gentlemen  are  the  moft 
refined  and  finifhed  of  gentlemen — refined  in  their  nice 
fenfe  of  the  true  and  beautiful,  their  fine  moral  perception, 
and  finifhed  in  the  moft  fcrupulous  attention  to  polite 
manners,  moft  exact  in  the  obfervances  of  decorum  with 
out  appearing  rigoroufly  precife  ;  ductile  as  fufed  gold  to 
that  which  is  good,  and  unmalleable  to  that  which  is 
evil ;  men,  in  fhort,  '  of  moft  erected  fpirits.'  There  is  an 
inexpreffible  charm  about  thofe  characters,  a  politenefs 
founded  on  benevolence  and  the  charities  of  life,  a  fpirit 
of  the  good  and  kind  which  twines  around  our  affections, 
which  gives  us  an  elevation  above  the  infirmities  which 
flem]is  heir  to,  and  identifies  us  with  the  noblenefs  of  foul 
and  ftrength  of  character  which  med  '  a  glory7  round  their 
heads. 

Heywood,  like  many  of  our  old  dramatifts,  deals  in  the 
extreme  of  character,  which  frequently  amounts  to 
heroifm.  His  heroes  are  of  unmaken  purpofe,  of  irre- 
fiftible  patience  ;  men  who  will  ftand  beneath  the  fword 
fuipended  by  a  fingle  hair  ;  and,  with  the  power  of  motion, 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.     xxxi 

ftill  refolutely  bide  the  confequence.  The  point  of  honour 
is  difcriminated  with  the  mod  fubtle  nicety  ;  a  vow  is 
confidered  as  regiftered  in  heaven  ;  it  is  the  fentence  of 
fate,  and  mufl  be  equally  inexorable.  The  fpirit,  however, 
is  frequently  facrificed  to  the  letter,  and  the  good  and  the 
true  are  difregarded  to  preferve  a  confiflency  with  a  fup- 
pofed  virtue— a  fort  of  character  better  calculated  to 
fupply,  from  the  paffionate  and  deep  internal  conflicts 
which  it  occafions,  affecting  fubjects  for  the  ftage,  than 
ufeful  example  or  inftruction  for  human  happinefs.  To 
fome,  this  character  will  appear  unnatural ;  and  fo  it 
would  be,  if  man  were  left  to  his  own  natural  tendencies ; 
but  if  we  grant  the  exiftence  of  the  artificial  notions  of 
honour  and  virtue  on  which  it  is  founded,  then  the  charac 
ters  are  perfectly  confiflent  and  natural,  although  acting 
under  a  falfe  impreffion  of  what  is  right  and  jufl.  Fancy, 
for  inflance,  a  generous,  honed,  and  valiant  gentleman, 
induced  by  a  noble  duke  to  convey  a  letter  to  an  unyield 
ing  lady,  who  is,  as  that  gentleman  conceives,  unknown 
to  him  ;  and,  by  the  duke's  dictation,  who  fufpects  that 
he  is  more  intimately  connected  with  her  than  is  agree 
able  to  his  grace's  intereii,  to  fwear  that  he  will  not  caft 
an  amorous  look  on  her,  fpeak  '  no  familiar  fyllable,  touch 
or  come  near  her  bofom,'  &c.  Fancy  him  haftening  to 
perform  the  duke's  behefts,  and  difcovering,  to  his  amaze 
ment,  that  he  has  undertaken  to  folicit  his  own  wife  for 
another.  Imagine  him  tricked  into  a  vow,  in  total  igno 
rance  of  the  circumftances,  and  refolving  to  bind  himfelf 
to  fo  unjuft  a  ftipulation,  the  effect  of  which  is  to  make 
two  perfons  miferable,  and  not  to  make  the  third  happy  ; 
yet  Heywood  makes  Spencer,  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  the 
Weft,  rigidly  perform  this  vow,  and  leave  .his  miflrefs  in  a 
fwoon,  without  attempting  to  render  her  any  affiftance. 


xxxii    Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

The  confequence  is  that  the  Fair  Maid  of  the  Weft,  the 
lady  in  queftion,  is  under  the  neceffity  of  tricking  the 
duke  into  another  vow,  in  order  to  get  out  of  the  diffi 
culty. 

TheJfe  exaggerated  fituations,  however,  are  mixed  with 
others  of  the  deepeft  feeling,  the  moft  glorious  overflow 
ings  of  the  affections,  the  kindefl  fympathies,  the  ten- 
derefl  fentiments.  Heywood  knew  well  the  nature  of 
human  paffions,  but  he  threw  them  into  extravagant  pofi- 
tions.  ....  He  did  not  deal  fkilfully  with  the  invifible 
world,  and  yet  he  was  not  altogether  unacquainted  with 
1  the  winged  fpirits  of  the  air  ; '  he  introduces  them  grace 
fully  in  Love's  Mijlrefs,  one  of  the  moft  beautiful  and 
pureft  of  mafques  founded  upon  claffical  mythology. 

"  In  a  rank  in  many  refpects  confiderably  above  the 
plays  we  firft  mentioned,  we  muft  place  the  Rape  of 
Lucrece,  one  of  the  moft  wild,  irregular,  and  unaccount 
able  productions  of  that  age..  Amongft  the  moft  extra 
vagant  buffoonery,  we  find  fparks  of  genius  which  would 
do  honour  to  any  dramatift  ;  touches  of  feeling  to  which 
no  reader  can  be  indifferent.  The  fcene  in  which  the 
crime  is  perpetrated,  and  that  which  immediately  follows, 
are  of  this  defcription.  The  dreadful  confummation  is 
preceded  by  an  awful  note  of  preparation,  a  folemn  paufe 
in  the  ftride  of  guilt,  which  makes  the  boldeft  hold  his 
breath,  and  is  fucceeded  by  a  difplay  of  the  moft  ex- 
quifitely  touching  grief.  Not  the  leaft  fmgular  part  of  this 
play  are  the  fongs,  which  are  freely  introduced,  and  fome- 
what  too  freely  expreffed.  Some  of  them  are  ftrange  and 
fantaftical  productions,  and  one  is  written  in  a  fort  of 
Dutch  jargon.  One  is  on  national  predilection,  and  is  an 
odd  and  at  the  fame  time  amufmg  collection  of  con- 
trafts.  It  appears  to  have  been  a  favourite  with  the 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.    xxxiii 

author,  if  we  may  judge  from  the  circumflance  of  his 
having  alfo  introduced  it  in  the  Challenge  for  Beauty, 
There  is  in  the  Rape  of  Lucrece  a  ftrange  mixture  of  the 
solemn  and  ludicrous.  Heywood  has  affigned  to  mod  of 
the  honed  patricians  of  Rome  an  affumed  gaiety,  a  reck- 
lefs  fpirit  of  merriment,  a  love  of '  merry  tunes  which  have 
no  mirth  in  them,'  all  to  hide  the  difcontent  and  forrow 
which  lurk  beneath  ;  but,  inflead  of  making  them  merry 
patricians,  he  has  overftepped  the  modefly  of  nature,  and 
invefted  them  with  the  livery  of  fools. 

"  The  next  play  we  mall  notice  is  The  Englifh  Tra 
veller,  a  production  which  abounds  with  good  fcenes, 
good  writing,  and  excellent  fentiment,  and  is  diflinguifhed 
by  pure,  gentle,  and  attractive  characters — Hey  wood's 
characters.  They  are  perfectly  natural,  and  yet  appear 
to  belong  to  a  fuperior  order  to  any  which  we  fee  in  ordi 
nary  life,  not  in  reach  of  intellect,  but  in  fweetnefs  of  dif- 
pofition  and  perfection  of  moral  character,  the  influence 
of  which  is  diffufed  over  the  whole  of  the  dialogues  of  his 
beft  plays.  They  are  calculated,  as  we  have  before  inti 
mated,  to  make  us  wifer  and  better.  We  might  inflance 
for  example,  Mr.  Generous,  in  The  LancaJJiire  Witches, 
two  or  three  characters  in  the  Woman  killed  with  Kind- 
ne/s,  and  young  Geraldine  in  The  Englifh  Traveller. 
The  chief  and  moft  interefling  part  of  this  play  turns  on 
the  following  circumflances : — Young  Geraldine,  on  his  re" 
turn  from  travel,  vifits  his  father's  friend,  Wincot,  a  kind- 
hearted,  honed  old  gentleman,  who  has  married  a  young 
lady,  formerly  the  traveller's  playmate,  and  whom  it  had 
been  reported,  previoufly  to  his  going  abroad,  he  was  to 
have  married.  Without  children  himfelf,  Wincot  has  the 
utmod  fondnefs  for  Young  Geraldine,  and  when  he  is  pre- 
fent,  can  hardly  bear  to  hear  any  other  perfon  fpeak  ;  he 

c 


xxxiv  Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

defires  him  to  command  his  houfe,  fervants,  £c. ; — in  fhort, 
treats  him  like  a  fon.  Geraldine  introduces  his  friend 
Delavel ;  Delavel  conceives  a  paffion  for  the  wife,  and 
proves  a  villain  ;  he  infmuates  into  the  mind  of  Geraldine's 
father,  that  his  fon's  vifits  to  Wincot  are  neither  confiflent 
with  his  own  honour,  nor  with  the  lady's  reputation.  Old 
Geraldine  takes  the  alarm,  and  prevails  upon  his  fon  to 
promife  that  he  will  ceafe  his  vifits  to  Wincot.  The  latter, 
furprifed  at  his  unufual  abfence,  and  ignorant  of  the  caufe, 
urges  him  to  renew  the  intercourfe,  or,  at  leaft,  fatisfy  him 
as  to  the  caufe  of  his  flaying  away  for  fo  long  a  time,  and 
propofes  a  private  meeting  for  that  purpofe.  An  appoint 
ment  is  accordingly  made  at  Wincot's  houfe,  at  a  time 
when  the  family  have  retired  to  reft.  They  meet,  and 
Geraldine  proceeds  to  explain  the  caufe  of  his  abfence. 
The  attempt  he  makes  to  fee  the  lady  before  leaving,  puts 
him  in  poffeffion  of  fatal  information.  He  hears  the  wife 
and  Delavel  converfe  in  a  manner  which  leaves  no  room 
to  doubt  the  nature  of  their  connexion.  He  determines 
to  travel  once  more  ;  but  before  he  quits  the  country,  he 
cannot  refufe  to  pay  a  parting  vifit  to  his  friend  Wincot, 
who  prepares  a  little  feafl  for  him.  Geraldine  ftudioufly 
avoids  both  his  miftrefs  and  his  falfe  friend.  The  former, 
however,  feeks  for,  and  fucceeds  in  gaining,  an  occafion 

of  fpeaking  to  him  in  private 

The  Challenge  for  Beauty,  is  founded  upon  the  following 
incicidents  :  Ifabella,  the  imperious  queen  of  Spain  and 
Portugal,  arrogates  to  herfelf  the  perfection  of  beauty  and 
virtue,  and  inflicls  the  penalty  of  banimment  on  Bonavida 
an  honeft  nobleman,  for  not  affenting  to  the  juflice  of  her 
claims.  The  fentence  is  to  continue  in  force  until  fuch 
time  as  he  can  produce  the  equal  of  the  royal  paragon. 
He  travels  far  and  near,  but  without  fuccefs,  until  he  fets 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.    xxxv 

his  foot  upon  the  fhores  of  England,  and  there  he  meets 
with  the  object  of  his  fearch,  in  the  perfon  of  the  beautiful 
Hellena.  He  is  fmitten  with  her  charms,  offers  her  his 
hand,  and,  in  due  feafon,  is  accepted.  It  is  neceffary, 
however,  that  he  mould  return  to  Spain,  to  make  arrange 
ments  for  redeeming  his  fentence,  and  on  his  departure 
he  leaves  her  a  ring,  with  a  ftrict  injunction  not  to  part 
with  it,  on  any  confideration  whatever.  He  arrives  in  his 
native  country,  unfolds  the  fuccefs  of  his  fearch,  is  required 
to  produce  the  formidable  rival  of  royalty,  and  on  his 
failure  to  do  fo,  is  thrown  into  prifon.  Meanwhile  the 
jealous  Ifabella  defpatches  Pineda  and  Centella,  two  bafe 
courtiers,  to  England,  to  try  to  obtain  pofleffion  of  the 
ring  which  Bonavida  had  given  to  Hellena,  and  on  the 
obtaining  of  which  he  had  offered  to  reft  the  iffue  of  his 
caufe.  On  their  arrival  in  England,  one  of  them  makes 
love  to  her  maid,  and  perfuades  her  to  fteal  the  ring,  which 
(he  fucceeds  in  doing,  whilft  her  miftrefs  is  warning  her 
hands.  She  delivers  it  to  her  pretended  lover,  who  im 
mediately  flies  with  it  to  Spain,  as  an  indifputable  proof 
of  the  inconftancy  of  Hellena.  The  queen  triumphs  in  the 
fuccefs  of  her  flratagem  ;— Bonavida  is  brought  out  of 
prifon,  to  be  a  witnefs  of  the  fhame  of  his  miftrefs,  which 
is  proclaimed  by  the  two  emiffaries,  and  proved  by  the 
production  of  the  ring,  the  identity  of  which  Bonavida 
acknowledges.  For  his  infolent  difparagement  of  the 
fovereign  of  beauty  and  virtue,  he  is  condemned  to  death. 
At  the  appointed  time,  everything  being  prepared,  and  the 
executioner  ready  to  do  his  office,  Hellena,  to  whom  the 
deceived  maid  had  confeffed  the  fraud  which  had  been 
practifed  upon  her,  a'nd  who  has  a  fhrewd  fufpicion  of  the 

fource  of  it,  appears  on  the  fpot The  Challenge  for 

Beauty  is  full  of  action  and  intereft,  "and  poffeffes  a  great 


xxxvi   Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

variety  of  well-difcriminated  characters ;  the  arrogant  and 
vain-glorious  Ifabella,  the  vivacious  vanity  of  Petrocella, 
and  the  noble  innocence  and  enterprife  of  Hellena,amongfl 
the  female,  and  the  weak  and  yielding  king  and  his  lying 
courtiers,  the  mixture  of  boafling  and  pride,  with  kigh 
honour,  in  Valladaura,  and  the  fierce  contempt  and  rigid 
integrity  of  Mountferrers,  amongft  the  male  characters, 
form  altogether  a  varied  and  pleafing  group.  There  is 
great  vivacity  in  this  performance,  and  fometimes  con- 
fiderable  fmartnefs  of.  repartee  ;  as,  for  example,  in  the 
fcene  between  Petrocella  and  Valladaura,  an  old  lover  juft 
returned  from  a  cruife,  and  Aldana,  the  lady's  foolifh  old 
father. 

The  Royal  King  and  Loyal  Subjett  is  a  good  play,  with 
out  poffeffing  any  very  flriking  fcenes,  but  we  cannot  fay 
fo  much  for  the  moral  of  it. — It  is  a  perfect  fample  of  loyal 
non^refiftance — of  paffive  obedience  pufhed  to  its  extreme 
verge  ;  it  is  .not  the  cafe  of  a  pliant  fycophant — a  mere 
court  nonentity,  the  contempt  which  muft  accompany 
whofe  all-complying  nature  would  have  been  a  fufficient 
equipoife  to  his  flavifh  obedience  ;  but  it  is  that  of  a  mag 
nanimous,  valiant,  and  difcreet  gentleman,  who  is  as 
blindly  fubmiffive  as  the  moil  abfolute  defpot  could  defire. 
The  fubftance  of  the  ftory  is,  that  certain  noble  perfons 
about  court,  jealous  of  the  virtues,  fame,  and  kingly  favour 
which  the  marfhal,  "  the  loyal  fubjecl,"  enjoys,  endeavour 
to  prejudice  the  royal  mind  againft  him.  They  fucceed  fo 
far  as  to  induce  the  royal,  or  tyrant  king  to  prove  him — 
to  put  his  virtue,  that  is  his  power  of  bearing  and  for 
bearing,  to  the  fevered  teft  which  royal  ingenuity  can 
devife.  The  king  firft  ftrips  him  of  all  his  offices,  one  by 
one,  and  in  the  moft  public  and  contemptuous  manner 
bellows  them  upon  his  unworthy  .enemies,  and  then  banifhes 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.   xxxvii 

him  from  court.  Underflanding  that  the  marfhal  has  two 
daughters,  the  king  defpatches  a  nobleman  with  a  com 
mand  for  him  to  fend  to  court  her  of  the  two  who  is  the 
moft  dear  to  him.  The  marfhal  fends  the  elder,  who,  by 
her  beauty  and  grace,  gains  the  affections  of  majefty,  and 
is  made  his  queen.  The  marfhal,  who  forefaw  this  event, 
had  inftrufled  his  daughter,  when  me  found  herfelf  preg 
nant,  to  fpeak  of  the  fuperior  beauty  of  her  fitter,  and  the 
greater  affection  which  the  marfhal  had  for  her.  Here 
upon  his  majetty,  in  feeming  rage,  packs  off  his  queen  to 
her  father,  and  requires  the  other  daughter  to  be  fent  to 
him.  The  marfhal  delays  complying  with  this  requifition 
(the  only  inttance  of  his  difobedience)  for  three  months. 
At  lafl,  he  fends  the  queen  crowned,  accompanied  with  a 
double  dowry,  and  attended  by  her  fitter  to  court,  he  him- 
felf  remaining  at  a  convenient  diftance,  and  begging  per- 
miffion  to  prefent  his  majefty  with  a  more  valuable  prefent 
than  anything  he  had  yet  fent.  The  king  confents — the 
marfhal  approaches,  and  prefents  a  magnificent  cradle  and 
a  young  prince. —A  reconciliation  takes  place,  and  l;he 
marfhal  receives  a  king's  daughter  for  his  wife, — but  his 
probation  does  not  end  here — he  undergoes  a  public  trial, 
and,  that  having  terminated  in  his  triumph,  and  the  dif- 
comfiture  of  his  enemies,  the  fcene  clofes. 

The  beft  known  and  beft  of  Heywood's  plays  is  A 
Woman  Killed  with  Kindnefs.  This  is  the  moft  tearful 
of  tragedies  ;  the  moft  touching  in  ftory  ;  the  moft  pathetic 
in  detail  ; — it  raifes,  in  the  reader's  breaft,  "  a  fea  of 
troubles  ;"  a  sympathy  the  moft  engroffing  ;  a  grief  the 
loft  profound.  We  are  overwhelmed  with  the  emotion 
of  the  unhappy  fufferers,  and  are  carried  along  in  the 
ftream  of  diftrefs,  incapable  of  refiftance,  and  unconfcious 
of  anything  but  the  fcene  before  us.  If  the  miferable 


xxxviii  Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

termination  of  a  guilty  connexion  can  ever  ferve  as  an 
example  to  thofe  who  are  flill  innocent,  the  unparalleled 
agony  exhibited  in  this  tragedy,  muft  ferve  as  an  awful 
beacon  to  warn  the  pure  and  inexperienced.  .  .  .  The  fub- 
jec"l  of  this  domeflic  tragedy,  the  conjugal  infidelity  of  Mrs. 
Frankford,  is  pretty  much  the  fame  as  that  of  The  EngHJh 
Traveller ;  but  is  infinitely  more  diftreffing  in  its  details. 
Mrs.  Frankford  is  reprefented  as  a  pure  and  good  woman, 
and  yet  me  furrenders  at  difcretion,  or  rather  at  indifcretion, 
hardly  making  a  mew  of  refiftance.  It  muft  be  admitted, 
that  the  tempter  fuftains  his  caufe  in  a  very  artful  manner, 
with  many  a  glozing  wile ;  but  yet  the  conqueft  appears 
unnaturally  precipitate.  This,  however,  does  not  at  all 
diminifh  the  intereft,  or  intenfity,  of  the  fcenes  which 
follow.  The  underplot  of  this  play  is  alfo  of  an  interefting 
and  affecting  kind.  The  occafional  rhyme  with  which 
fome,  even  the  moft  folemn  paffages,  canter  off,  gives  an 
unpleafant  jerk  to  the  courfe  of  our  feelings  ;  it  caufes  too 
violent  a  change  in  the  meafure  and  produces  a  difagree- 
able  effea." 

From  an  article  on  "  Beaumont  and  Fletcher 
and  their  Contemporaries,"  which  appeared 
in  the  Edinburgh  Review  fome  thirty  years 
ago,  (12)  we  extract  the  following  eftimate  of 
Heywood  : — 

Heywood  is  one  of  the  moft  prolific  of  all  dramatifls  ; 
and  his  works  of  other  forts  are  likewife  numerous.  He 
declares  himfelf  to  have  compofed,  in  whole  or  in  part,  two 
hundred  and  twenty  plays  ;  and  accounts  for  the  fewnefs 

(12)  Ed.  Rev.    April,  1841,  pp.  221 — 223. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.      xxxix 

of  thofe  that  have  been  printed,  amounting,  fo  far  as  we 
can  now  difcover,  to  fewer  than  thirty.  His  range  of  fub- 
jecls  embraces  feveral  comedies,  avowedly  intended  to  be 
pictures  of  contemporary  Englifh  life  ;  but  it  alfo  includes 
other  kinds  of  works,  which  we  have  here  more  particu 
larly  in  view.  One  clafs  of  thefe  confifts  of  his  plays  called 
the  "Golden,"  "Silver,"  "Brazen,"  and  "Iron"  Ages, 
which  bring  down  the  claffical  legends  from  Saturn  to  the 
taking  of  Troy.  In  the  fame  clafs  may  be  reckoned  fuch 
plays  as  his  Rape  of  Lucrece,  in  which  the  (lately  tragedy 
is  relieved  by  a  multitude  of  comic  fongs,  fung  by 
one  of  the  Roman  "  lords,"  and  fet  forth  in  the  title-page 
of  the  printed  copy  as  a  primary  inducement  to  attract, 
purchafers.  Another  clafs  is  inftanced  in  his  Foure  Pren 
tices  ;  in  which  Godfrey  of  Bulloigne  and  his  three  brothers 
pafs  from  behind  the  counters  of  London  mops  to  the  firft 
crufade,  and  the  conquefl  of  Jerufalem.  A  third  clafs  is 
the  domeftic  tragedy,  to  which  belongs  his  Woman  Killed 
with  Kindnefs.  .  .  .  This  interefling  work  is  an  attempt 
at  reftoring  a  kind  of  drama,  of  which  feveral  had  been 
written  before  or  about  1590 — fuch  as  "Arden  of  Fever- 
fliam,"  and  "  A  Warning  for  Faire  Women."  Hey  wood's 
Ages  both  in  their  fubjec~i  and  in  the  method  of  its  treat 
ment,  bear  the  fame  antique  ftamp.  His  Foure  Prentifes 
of  London  has  been  oddly  reprefented  by  fome  critics  as 
a  fatire  upon  knight-errantry — a  light  in  which  it  is  quite 
wrong  to  confider  it.  Ridiculous  it  certainly  is  in  its  con 
ception,  and  in  feveral  parts  of  its  execution — juft  like 
Greene's  Alphonfus  or  Orlando,  to  which  it  bears  fome 
refemblance.  But  the  author  wrote  in  fober  ferioufnefs  ; 
•and  printing  his  play  in  1615,  he  dedicates  it  gravely — 
**  To  the  honeft  and  high-fpirited  prentices,  the  readers  ;" 
— adding  fome  curious  information  as  to  the  viciffitudes 


xl         Memoir  of  Thomas  Hey  wood. 

of  tafte  that  had  come  over,  not  only  the  public,  but  the 
author  himfelf. 

Before  the  date  of  that  dedication,  indeed,  Hey_ 
wood,  taught  by  experience,  and  by  the  examples  of 
excellence  which  were  accumulating  around  him,  had 
written  feveral  of  his  comedies  of  Englifh  many 
ners.  Among  thefe  were  his  Fair  Maid  of  the  Exchange- 
a  love-comedy  of  intrigue,  "very  delectable  and  full  of 
mirth;"  and  the  two  parts  of  the  Fair  Maid  of  the  Weft 
which  is  a  lively  mixture  of  native  and  familiar  life  with 
foreign  and  romantic  adventure.  His  better  plays,  how 
ever,  are  probably  later,  and  therefore  poffefs  an  additional 
intereft  for  us,  while  we  look  towards  Fletcher's  fchoo^ 
and  works.  Such  is  The  Englijh  Traveller,  a  comedy 
much  in  Ben  Jonfon's  manner  ;  with  a  double  plot,  in" 
genioufly  combined,  and  folemnized,  in  the  death  of  the 
feduced  wife,  by  a  tragic  fentiment  refembling.that  which 
makes  the  flory  of  his  older  tragedy.  His  Wife  Woman 
of  Hogfdon,  a  comedy  of  intrigue,  not  without  intereft  nor 
force  of  character,  has  not  been  reprinted  fmce  the  feven- 
teenth  century  ;  nor  has  his  Maidenhead  Well  Loft — a 
play  far  fuperior,  which  has  a  romantic  air  of  feeling,  well 
kept  up,  and  has  furnifhed,  in  feveral  of  its  fituations, 
hints  for  Maffmger's  Great  Duke  of  Florence.  We  have 
dwelt  long  upon  Heywood,  becaufe  he  is  a  writer  for 
whom  we  entertain  a  great  affection.  Charles  Lamb  has 
called  him  "  a  profe  Shakefpeare  ;"  and  the  expreffion 
conveys  the  idea  of  much  that  characterizes  his  manner. 
He  is  one  of  the  mod  moral  of  the  dramatifls  of  his  time  ; 
and  there  is  a  natural  repofe  in  his  fcenes,  which  contrails 
pleafingly  with  the  excitement  that  reigns  in  mofl  of  his 
contemporaries.  He  walks  quietly  to  and  fro  among  his 
characters  while  they  are  yet  at  large  as  members  of 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.        xli 

fociety  ;  contenting  himfelfwith  a  fad  fmile  at  their  follies, 
or  with  a  frequent  warning  to  them  on  the  confequences 
of  their  crimes." 

We  have  evidence  that  Heywood  was  for  many 
years  engaged  upon  a  collection  of  the  Lives  of 
Poets  of  his  own  day  and  country,  as  well  as 
of  other  times  and  nations.  It  would  of  courfe 
have  included  Shakefpeare,  and  his  dramatic  pre- 
deceffors  and  contemporaries;  and  it  is  poffible 
that  the  manufcript  or  part  of  it,  may  yet  lurk 
in  fome  unexplored  receptacle.  Richard  Braith- 
wayte,  in  his  Scholar's  Medley,  1614,  gave  the 
earlieft  information  of  Heywood's  intention  to 
make  "  a  defcription  of  all  Poets'  lives  ;"  and,  ten 
years  afterwards,  in  his  Nine  Books  of  various 
Hiftory  concerning  Women,  Heywood  himfelf  tells 
us  that  the  title  of  his  projected  work  would  be 
The  Lives  of  all  the  Poets,  modern  and  foreign.  It 
was  ftill  in  progrefs  in  1635,  when  the  Hier archie 
of  theBleffed  Angells  appeared,  on  p.  245  of  which 
work  we  meet  with  the  following  paffage  : — "  In 
proceeding  further  I  might  have  forefhalled  a 
work e,  which  hereafter  (I  hope)  by  God's  affiftance, 
to  commit  to  the  publick  view;  namely,  the  Lives 
of  all  the  Poets,  Forreine  and  moderne,  from  the 
firft  before  Homer,  to  the  novijjinii  and  laft,  of 
what  nation  or  language  foever." 

The  manner  in  which  he  would  probably  have 


xlii       Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

treated  the  fubje<5t  makes  us  ftill  more  regret  the 
lofs  of  his  collection  of  the  Lives  of  the  Poets ; 
and  we  may  judge  of  that  manner  from  the  terms 
in  which  he  fpeaks  of  his  great  contemporaries 
in  the  body  of  the  work  juft  quoted.  What 
he  fays  of  them  affords  a  curious  proof  of  the 
kindly  and  familiar  footing  on  which  they  lived 
with  each  other.  Though  the  paffage  is  now 
well  known,  we  mail  venture  to  quote  it  once 
more.  He  is  complaining  in  a  mood  half 
ferious,  half  comic,  of  the  difrefpe<5t  which  Poets 
in  his  time  met  with  from  the  world,  compared 
with  the  honours  paid  them  by  antiquity. 

"  Greene,  who  had  in  both  Academies  ta'ne 
Degree  of  Matter,  yet  could  never  gaine 
To  be  call'd  more  than  Robin  ;  who,  had  he 
Profeft  ought  fave  the  Mufe,  ferv'd  and  been  free 
After  a  feven-yeares'  prentifemip,  might  have 
(With  credit  too)  gone  Robert  to  his  grave. 
Mario,  renowned  for  his  rare  art  and  wit, 
Could  ne're  attaine  beyond  the  name  of  Kit, 
Although  his  Hero  and  Leander  did 
Merit  addition  rather.     Famous  Kid 
Was  call'd  but  Tom.    Tom  Watfon,  though  he  wrote 
Able  to  make  Apollo's  felfe  to  dote 
Upon  his  Mufe,  for  all  that  he  could  ftrive, 
Yet  never  could  to  his  full  name  arrive. 
Tom  Na/h  (in  his  time  of  no  fmall  efleeme) 
Could  not  a  fecond  fyllable  redeeme. 


Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood.      xliii 

Excellent  Bewmont,  in  the  formoft  ranke 

Of  the  rar'ft  wits,  was  never  more  than  Franck. 

Mellifluous  Shake-fpeare,  whofe  inchanting  quill 

Commanded  mirth  or  paffion,  was  but  Will ; 

And  famous  Jonfon,  though  his  learned  pen 

Be  dipt  in  Caflaly,  is  ftill  but  Ben. 

Fletcher  and  Webfter,  of  that  learned  packe 

None  of  the  mean' ft,  yet  neither  was  but  Jacke. 

Decker 's  but  Tom  ;  nor  May  nor  Middletonj 

And  hee's  now  but  Jacke  Foord\hz.\.  once  was  John? 

"  Poffibly,"  fays  Charles  Lamb,  in  quoting  the  above 
paffage,  "  our  Poet  was  a  little  fore,  that  this  contemp 
tuous  curtailment  of  their  baptifmal  names  was  chiefly 
exercifed  upon  his  Poetical  Brethren  of  the  Drama.  We 
hear  nothing  about  Sam.  Daniel,  or  Ned  Spenfer  in  his 
catalogue.  The  familiarity  of  common  difcourfe  might 
probably  take  the  greater  liberties  with  the  dramatic 
poets,  as  conceiving  of  them  as  more  upon  a  level  with 
the  ftage  actors.  Or  did  their  greater  publicity,  and  popu 
larity  in  confequence,  faften  thefe  diminutives  upon  them 
out  of  a  feeling  of  love  and  kindnefs  ?  Doubtlefs  Hey 
wood  had. an  indiftindl  conception  of  this  truth  when 
(coming  to  his  own  name),  with  that  beautiful  retracing 
which  is  natural  to  one  who,  not  fatirically  given,  has. 
wandered  a  little  out  of  his  way  into  fomething  recrimina 
tive,  he  goes  on  to  fay  : — 

'  Nor  fpeake  I  this,  that  any  here  expreft, 
Should  think  themfelues  leffe  worthy  than  the  reft, 
Whofe  names  haue  their  full  fyllable  and  found  ; 
Or  that  Franck,  Kit,  or  lacke,  are  the  leaft  wound 
Vnto  their  fame  and  merit.     I  for  my  part 
(Thinke  others  what  they  pleafe)  accept  that  heart 


xliv     Memoir  of  Thomas  Heywood. 

Which  courts  my  loue  in  mofl  familiar  phrafe  ; 
And  that  it  takes  not  from  my  paines  or  praife. 
If  any  one  to  me  fo  bluntly  com, 
I  hold  he  loues  me  beft  that  calls  me  Tom' " 

We  can  figure  to  ourfelves  no  higher  prize,  of 
a  literary  kind,  than  the  difcovery  of  the  manu- 
fcript  of  the  lives  of  fuch  men  by  fuch  a  man, 
who  would  probably  have  given  us  their  great 
characteriftics  and  individual  peculiarities,  and 
have  dwelt  with  fond  detail  upon  the  fcenes  of 
their  early  and  focial  intercourfe. 

But  whatever  of  Heywood's  writing  may  be 
loft,  enough  remains  to  warrant  our  affigning 
him  a  high  place  among  that  brilliant  company 
of  poets  and  dramatifts  who  adorned  the  reigns 
of  Elizabeth  and  of  the  firft  James  and  Charles. 
There  were  others,  perhaps,  who  had  more  fire 
of  poetry,  more  brilliancy  of  wit,  or  more 
fervour  of  paffion  ;  but  in  dealing  with  the  com 
mon  life  which  is  in  all  ages  effentially  the  fame, 
none  ihowed  a  truer  tendernefs  and  pathos,  a 
more  thoroughly  human  fympathy,  than  Thomas 
Hey  wood. 


To  his  worthie  friend   the 

Authour,    Mafter  Thomas 
Heywood. 

HEywood,  when  men  weigh  truly  what  thou  art, 
How  the  whole  frame  of  learning  claimes  apart 
In  thy  deepe  apprehenfton  ;  and  then  fee. 
To  knowledge  added fo  much  induftry  ; 
Who  will  deny  thee  the  befl  Palme  and  Bayes  ? 
And  that  to  name  thee,  to  himfelfe  is  praife. 
Asfirft,  which  I  muft  ever  firft  preferre, 
Thy  skill  in  Poetry,  where  thoufofarre 
Haft  gone,  as  none  beyond  thee,  and  haft  writ, 
That  after-ages  muft  defpaire  of  wit 
Or  matter  to  write  more.     Nor  art  thou  leffe, 
In  whatfoere  thy  fancy  will  exprejfe. 
Thy  pen  commands  all  hiftory,  all  actions, 
Counfels,  Decrees,  men,  manners,  States,  and  factions, 
Playes.  Epicediums,  Odes,  andLyricks, 
Tranftations,  Epitaphs,  and  Panegyricks : 
They  all  doefpeake  thy  worth.     Nor  doft  thou  teach 
Things  meere  prophane  ;  but  thy  great  Mufe  does  reach 
Above  the  Orbes,  unto  the  utmoft  skie, 
And  makes  tranfttion  imto  Deitie. 
When  thou  withfuch  high  flraines  detainft  our  eares, 
As  might  become  the  Angels,  or  the  Spheares. 
What  Reader  then  injuflice  can  decline 
From  this  aj/ertion  ?     Poets  are  divine, 
Rapt  with  a  heavenly  fire,  which  is  made  knowne 
By  no  example  better  than  thine  owne. 

SH.  MARMION. 


To  the  learned  Authour 

Mafter  THOMAS 

HEYWOOD. 


WHo  can  deny  but  Poets  take  their  birth 
Fromfome  thing  thafs  more  excellent  than  earth  ? 
Since  thofe  harmonious  Jlrains  that  fill  our  eares, 
Proclaime  their  neere  allyance  with  the  Spheares, 
And  /hew es  their  Art  all  Arts  as  farre  exceed 
As  doth  the  fiery-Cane,  the  weakejl  Reed. 
That  Matter  which  fix  lines  of  Prof e  rehearfe, 
May  fitly  be  contained  in  one  Verfe  ; 
Yea,  and fo  pithily  (if  well  compacled] 
That  out  of  it  whole  Bookes  may  be  extracted. 
A  Prefident  whereof  if  thou  wouldfl  find, 
I  prethee  gentle  Reader  bend  thy  mind 
To  what  this  little  Volume  doth  containe, 
Andfure  the  fruit  will  recompence  thy  paine, 
ThefubjeR  with  the  Authour s  names  agree, 
Who  all  have  left  unto  Pofteritie 
Such  Noble  badges  of  their  learned  fame, 
That  my  weake  Pen  can  no  way  /hew  the  fame ; 
Therefore  doe  thou,  oh  Hey  wood,  weare  the  JSayes 
As  thy  jufi  merit  many  thoufand  wayes. 
For  this  thy  Worke,  with  others  heretofore 
Shall  honor  thee  till  time  f  hall  be  no  more. 


D. 


To  my  praife- worthy  friend 

Mafter  THOMAS 
HEYWOOD. 


THy  Worth  unto  the  Knowing  World  is  knowne, 
Let  Criticks  cenfure  others  by  their  owne, 
And  tintt  their  foreheads  with  a  purple  fhame,  \ 

When  they  f hall  fee  thy  Works,  or  heare  thy  Name,       > 
Whilft  with  thy  owne,  thou  fetft  forth  others  fame  j       ) 
Whofe  lofty  Anthems,  in  our  Englijh  lone 
Thoufmg'ft,  and  mat? ft  them  live,  though  dead  &*  gone. 
What  barking  or  untutor'd  Momus  then 
Will  dare  to  belch  againft  thy  learned  Pen  f 
Whofe  worthier  Lines,  unto  their  foule  difgrace, 
Shall  f  pit  defiance  in  a  brafenface  ; 
And  when  th  art  dead,  thy  Poefie  Jhallfing 
Such  pleafant  ftraines,  whereof  the  World Jhall  ring ; 
And  Envies  felfe,  infpight  of  all  Affayes, 
Shall  crowne  thy  Tombe-ftone  with  eter nail  B ayes. 


S.N. 


THE 

AUTHOR    TO    HIS    BOOKE. 

The  world's  a  theater ;  the  earth  aftage,  om  ^ 

Which  God  and  nature  doth  with  acT.ors  fill :       by  the 

Kings  have  their  entrance  in  due  equipage, 

Andfome  there  parts  play  well,  and  others  ill. 

The  beft  no  better  are  (in  this  theater), 

Where  every  humor 's  fitted  in  his  kinde  ; 

This  a  truefubiett  atts,  and  that  a  tray  tor, 

Thefirjl  applauded,  and  the  la/I  confined ; 

This  plaies  an  honefi  man,  and  that  a  knave, 

A  gentle  perfon  this,  and  he  a  clowne, 

One  man  is  ragged,  and  another  brave  : 

All  men  have  parts,  and  each  one  acts  his  owne. 

She  a  chafte  lady  acleth  all  her  life  ; 

A  wanton  curtezan  another  play es  ; 

This  covets  marriage  love,  that  nuptial ftrife  ; 

Both  in  continual  aflionfpend  their  dayes  : 

Some  citizens,  fomefoldiers,  borne  to  adventer, 

Sheepheards,  andfea-men.     Then  our  play's  begun 

When  we  are  borne,  and  to  the  world  fir/I  enter, 

And  allfinde  exits  when  their  parts  are  done. 

If  then  the  world  a  theater  prefent, 

As  by  the  roundneffe  it  appears  mojlfit, 

Built  with  ftarre  galleries  of  hye  afcent, 

In  which  Jehove  doth  as  fpettatorfit, 

And  chief e  determiner  to  applaud  the  beft, 

And  their  indevours  crowne  with  more  then  merit ; 

Bui  by  their  evill  attions  doomes  the  reft 

To  end  difgradt,  whilft  others  praife  inherit ; 

He  that  denyes  then  theaters  Jhould  be,  No  theatei 

He  may  as  well  deny  a  world  to  me. 

THOMAS  HEYWOOD.* 


Prefixed  to  Heywood's  Apology  for  A  ftors  (1612). 


THE     FIRST 

and  Second  parts  of  King 
Edward  the  Fourth. 

CONTAINING, 

His  merie  paftime  with  the  Tanner  of  Tarn- 
worth,  as   alfo  his   loue   to   faire   Miftriffe 
Shore,  her   great   promotion,  fall   and 
miferie,  and  laftly  the  lamentable 
death   of  both   her   and   her 
husband. 

Likewife  the  befieging  of  London,  by  the 

Baftard   Falconbridge,  and  the  valiant 

defence  of  the  fame  by  the  Lord 

Maior  and  the  Citizens. 

As  it  hath  diuers  times  beene  publikely  played 

by  the  Right  Honourable  the  Earle  of 

Derbie  his  feruants. 


Imprinted  at  London  by  F.  K.  for  Humfrey  Lownes 
Oxenbridge.     1600. 


THE 

FIRST  AND   SECOND 

parts  of  King  Edward  the  fourth. 

Contayning  his  merrie  paftime  with  the  Tanner  of 

Tamworth,  as  alfo  his  loue  to  faire  Miftrefle 

Shore,  her   great   promotion,   fall   and 

miferie,  and  laflly  the  lamentable 

death   of  both   her  and   her 

husband. 


Enter  King  Edward,  the  Dutches  of  Yorke,  the  Queene, 
the  Lord  Howard,  and  Sir  Thomas  Sellinger. 

Dutcheffe. 

SOnne   I   tell  ye  you  haue  done  you  know  not 
What: 
King.   I  haue  married  a  woman,  elfe  I  am  deceiued 

mother. 

Dutch.     Married  a  woman  ?  married  indeed, 
Here  is  a  marriage  that  befits  a  King : 
It  is  no  maruaile  it  was  done  in  hafte, 

B  2 


4  The  firft  part  of 

Here  is  a  Bridall  and  with  hell  to  boote, 
You  haue  made  worke. 

King.  Faith  mother  fome  we  haue  indeed,  but 
ere  long  you  mail  fee  vs  make  worke  for  an  heir  appa- 
rant,  I  doubt  not,  nay,  nay,  come  come,  Gods  will 
what  chiding  ftill  1 

Dutch.  O  God  that  ere  I  liude  to  fee  this  day. 
King.  By  my  faith  mother,  I  hope  you  mall  fee 
the  night  too,  and  in  the  morning  I  will  be  bold  to 
bid  you  to  the  Chriftning  Grandmother,  and  God 
mother  to  a  Prince  of  Wales,  tut  mother,  tis  a  flirring 
world. 

Dutch.  Haue  you  fent  Warwicke  into  France  for 
this? 

King.  No  by  my  faith  mother  I  fent  Warwicke 
into  France  for  an  other,  but  this  by  chance  beeing 
neerer  hand,  and  comming  in  the  way  I  cannot  tell 
how,  we  concluded,  and  now  (as  you  fee)  are  going 
about  to  get  a  young  King. 

Dutch.     But  tell  me  fonne  how  will  you  anfwere 

this? 

I  ft  poffible  your  ram  vnlawfull  ac~l 
Should  not  breed  mortall  hate  betwixt  the  Realmes  ? 
What  may  the  French  King  thinke  when  he  mail 

heare 

That  whilfl  you  fend  to  entreat  about  his  daughter, 
Bafely  to  take  a  fubiedl  of  your  owne  1 
What  may  the  Princeffe  Bona  thinke  of  this  1 
Our  noble  Cofin  Warwicke  that  great  Lord, 
That  Center-making  thunderclap  of  warre, 
That  like  a  Colum  propt  the  houfe  of  Yorke  : 
And  boare  our  white  Rofe  brauely  in  his  top,  - 
When  he  mall  hear  his  embaffage  abus'd, 
In  this  but  made  an  inftrument  by  you, 
I  know  his  foule  will  blufh  within  his  bofome, 
And  fhame  will  fit  in  Scarlet  on  his  Brow, 
To  have  his  honor  toucht  with  this  foule  blemifh. 
Sonne,  fonne,  I  tell  you  that  is  done  by  you, 
Which  yet  the  child  that  is  vnborne  mall  rue. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  5 

King.  Tufh  mother  you  are  deceiued,  all  true 
fubiecls  fliall  haue  caufe  to  thanke  God,  to  haue  their 
King  borne  of  a  true  Englifh  woman.  I  tell  you,  it 
was  neuer  well  fmce  wee  matched  with  flrangers ;  fo 
our  children  haue  beene  flill  like  Chicken  of  the  halfe 
kind.  But  where  the  cock  and  the  hen  be  both  of 
one  breede,  there  is  like  to  be  birds  of  the  game. 
Heare  you,  mother,  heare  you ;  had  I  gone  to  it  by 
fortune,  I  had  made  your  fons  George  and  Dick  to 
haue  flood  gaping  after  the  Crowne.  This  wench, 
mother,  is  a  widow,  and  hath  made  proofe  of  her 
valour ;  and  for  any  thing  I  know,  I  am  as  like  to  do 
the  deed,  as  John  Gray  her  husband  was.  I  had 
rather  the  people  praied  to  blefs  mine  heire,  than  fend 
me  an  heire.  Hold  your  peace,  if  you  can  fee  : 
there  was  neuer  mother  had  a  towarder  fon.  Why, 
Coufm  Howard  and  Tom  Sellinger,  heard  you  euer 
fuch  a  coile  about  a  wife  1 

How. '    My  foueraign  Lord,  with  patience  bear  her 

fpleen. 

Your  princely  mother's  zeal  is  like  a  riuer, 
That  from  the  free  abundance  of  the  waters 
Breakes  out  into  this  inundation. 
From  her  abundant  care  this  rage  proceedes, 
Ore-fwoln  with  the  extremity  of  loue. 

Set.     My  lord,  my  lord,  auoid  a  woman's  humor. 
If  you  refill  this  tumour  of  her  will, 
Here  you  mail  haue  her  dwell  vpon  this  paffion, 
Vntil  me  lade  and  dull  our  eares  againe. 
Seem  you  but  forry  for  what  you  haue  done, 
And  flraight  fhele  put  the  finger  in  the  eye, 
With  comfort  now,  fmce  it  cannot  be  helpt. 
But  make  you  mow  to  juilify  the  a<5l, 
If  ever  other  language  in  her  lips 
Than  Out  vpon  it,  it  is  abhominable, 
I  dare  be  hanged. 

Say  any  thing,  it  makes  no  matter  what, 
Then  thus  be  wearied  with  a  womans  chat. 

Dutch.     I,  I,  you  are  the  fpaniels  of  the  court, 


6  The  fir/I  part  of 

And  thus  you  fawne,  and  footh  your  wanton  king : 

But  Edward,  hadft  thou  prizd  thy  maieftie, 

Thou  neuer  wouldfl  haue  ftaind  thy  princely  flate 

With  the  bale  leauings  of  a  fubiedls  bed, 

Nor  borne  the  blemifh  of  her  bigamy. 

A  widow,  is  it  not  a  goodly  thing  ? 

Grafs  children,  come  ask  bleffing  of  the  King. 

Queene.     Nay,  I  befeech  your  grace  my  lady  Yerky 
Euen  as  you  are  a  princefs  and  a  widow, 
Think  not  fo  meanly  of  my  widowhood  : 
A  fpotlefs  Virgin  came  I  firft  to  Gray  ; 
With  him  I  liu'd  a  true  and  faithful  wife  ; 
And  fince  his  high  imperiall  maiefly 
Hath  pleas'd  to  bleffe  my  poor  deiecled  ftate 
With  the  high  Soueraign  title  of  his  Queene, 
I  here  protefl  before  the  hoft  of  heauen, 
I  came  as  chafte  a  widow  to  his  bed 
As  when  a  virgin  I  to  Gray  was  wed. 

King.  Come,  come,  haue  done.  Now  you  haue 
chid  enough.  God's  foot,  we  were  as  merry  ere  me 
came  as  any  people  in  Chriftendom,  I  with  the  mif- 
treffe  and  thefe  with  the  maids,  only  we  haue  no 
fidlers  at  our  feafl ;  but,  mother,  you  haue  made  a  fit 
of  mirth.  Welcome  to  Grafton,  mother.  By  my 
troth,  you  are  euen  iuft  come  as  I  wifhed  you  here. 
Let  vs  go  to  fupper  ;  and  in  charity  giue  vs  your 
bleffing  ere  we  go  to  bed. 

Dutch*     O  Edward,  Edward!  fly  and  leaue  this 

place, 

Wherein,  poor  filly  king,  thou  art  enchanted, 
This  is  her  dam  of  Bedford*  work,  her  mother, 
That  hath  bewitch'd  thee,  Edward,  my  poor  child. 
Dimonour  not  the  princes  of  thy  land, 
To  make  them  kneele  with  reverence  at  her  feet, 
That,  ere  thou  didft  empale  with  foueraigntie, 
They  would  haue  fcorned  to  haue  lookd  vpon. 
Theres  no  fuch  difference  twixt  the  greateft  peere 
And  the  poor  filliefl  kitching-maide  that  Hues, 
As  is  betwixt  thy  worthinefs  and  hers. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  7 

Queene.     I  do  confefle  it :  yet,  my  lady  Yorkc, 
My  mother  is  a  dutchefle,  as  you  are, 
A  princefle  born,  the  Duke  of  Bedford's  wife, 
And,  as  you  knowe,  a  daughter  and  a  fifter 
Vnto  the  royall  blood  of  Burgundy. 
Biit  you  cannot  fo  bafely  think  on  me, 
As  I  do  think  of  thefe  vain  worldly  titles. 
Gcd  from  my  foule  my  fmne  as  far  diuide, 
As  I  am  far  from  boafling  in  this  pride  ! 

o>/.     Madam,  me  is  the  mirror  of  her  kinde, 
Hal  me  but  fo  much  fpleen  as  hath  a  gnat, 
He;  fpirits  would  ftartle  to  abide  your  taunts. 
She  is  a  faint,  and,  madam,  you  blafpheme, 
To  -vrong  fo  fweet  a  lady. 

Jlutch.     Thou  art  a  minion  and  a  flatterer. 

Sri.     Madam,  but  that  you    are  my   Soueraignes 

Mother, 
I  wmld  let  you  know  that  you  wrong  a  gentleman. 

fjw.     Good  coufin  Sellinger,  haue  patience. 
Her  grace's  rage,  by  too  much  violence, 
Han  fpent  itfelf  already  into  air. 
Dea  madam,  1  befeech  you,  on  my  knee, 
Tenler  that  louing-kindneffe  to  the  Queene, 
That  I  dare  fweare  me  doth  in  foule  to  you. 

E7.w.     Well  faid,  good  coz;   I   pray  thee,  make 

.hem  friends. 
Why  how  now,  Befs,  what  weepe  ?    nay  then,   He 

hide  you. 
Whalfudden  newes  comes  by  this  meffenger  ? 

Enter  a  Meffenger. 

Mis.     My  foueraign  lord,  the  baflard  Fcdconbridge 
Of  la?  hath  flirr'd  rebellion  in  the  fouth, 
Encoiraging  his  forces  to  deliuer 
King  Yenryi  late  depos'd,  out  of  the  lower. 
To  hii  the  malcontented  commons  flock 
From^uery  part  of  Suffex,  Kent,  and 
His  ainy  waxed  twentie  thoufand  flrong, 


8 


The  firft  part  of 


And,  as  it  is  fuppos'd  by  circumftance, 
Meane  to  take  London,  if  not  well  defended. 

Edw.     Well,  let  this  Phaeton,  that  is  mounted  thus, 
Look  he  fit  furely,  or,  by  England's  George, 
He  breake  his  necke.     This  is  no  new  euafion  ; 
I  furely  thought  that  one  day  I  fhould  fee 
That  baftard  Falcon  take  his  wings  to  mount 
Into  our  eagle-aerie.     Methought  I  faw 
Black  difcontent  fit  euer  on  his  browe, 
And  now  I  fee  I  calculated  well. 
Good  coufm  Howard,  and  Tom  Sellinger, 
This  night  wele  fpend  in  feaft  and  iollity 
With  our  new  Queen  and  our  beloued  mother  : 
To  morrow  you  mail  haue  a  commiffion 
To  raife  vp  powers  againfl  this  haughty  rebel. 
Sirrah,  depart  not  till  you  know  our  pleafure. 
You  mall  conuey  vs  letters  back  to  London 
Vnto  the  Mayor,  Recorder,  and  our  friend es. 
Is  fupper  ready  ?  come  by,  my  bonny  Beffe. 
Welcome,  mother ;  we  are  all  your  guefts.        Edunt. 

Enter  Falconbridge  with  his  troops  marching,  Spijing, 
Smoke,  Chub,  and  others. 

Fal.     Hold,  drumme  ! 

Spi.     Hold,  drumme,  and  be  hanged  ! 

Smoke.     Hold,  drum,  hold  !  peace  then,  ho  ! 
Silence  to  the  proclamation. 

Spi.     You  lie,  you  rogue ;  tis  to  the  oration. 

Chub.    Nay,  then,  you  all  lie ;  tis  to  the  coblidtion. 

FaL       True    hearted    Englifli,    and    our    pliant 
friends. 

All.     Ho  !  braue  General,  ifaith. 

Spi.     Peace  there,  you  rogues,  or  I  will  fplij  your 
chaps. 

Pal.     Dear  countrymen,  I  publickly  proclai 
If  any  wronged  difcontented  Englifli, 
Toucht  with  true  feeling  of  King  Henry's  wron 
Henry  the  Sixt,  the  lawfull  king  of  England, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  9 

Who,  by  that  tyrant  Edward,  the  vfurper, 
Is  held  a  wretched  prifoner  in  the  Tower. 
If  any  man  that  faine  would  be  enfranchis'd 
From  the  fad  yoke  of  Yorki/h  feruitude, 
Vnder  which  we  toil  like  naked  galley-flaues, 
Know  he   that    Thomas  Neuille,   the   Lord    Falcon- 
bridge 

All.     I,  I,  a  Falconbridge  \  a  Falconbridge  \ 

Spi.     Peace,  ye  clamorous  rogues  !     On,  General, 
with  your  oration.     Peace,  there  ! 

Fal.     Pitying  King  Henry's  poor  diftrefled  cafe, 
Arm'd  with  his  title  and  a  fubiecTs  zeal, 
Takes  vp  jufl  armes  againft  the  houfe  of  Yorke, 
And  does  proclaime  our  ancient  liberty. 

All.     Liberty,  liberty,  liberty,  general  liberty  ! 

Fal.     We  do  not  rife  like  Tyler,  Cade,  and  Straw, 
Bluebeard,  and  other  of  that  rafcal  rout, 
Bafely  like  tinkers  or  fuch  muddy  flaues, 
For  mending  meafures  or  the  price  of  corne, 
Or  for  fome  common  in  the  wield  of  Kent 
Thats  by  fome  greedy  cormorant  enclos'd, 
But  in  the  true  and  antient  lawfull  right 
Of  the  redoubted  houfe  of  Lancafter. 
Our  blood  is  noble,  by  our  birth  a  Neuille, 
And  by  our  lawful  line,  Lord  Falconbridge. 
Whofe  here  thats  of  fo  dull  a  leaden  temper, 
That  is  not  fired  with  a  Neuille 's  name  ? 

All.     A  Neuille  !  a  Neuille  !  a  Neuille  ! 

Fal.     Our  quarrell,  like  ourfelf,  is  honourable, 
The  law  our  warrant. 

Smoke.     I,  I,    the  law  is  on  our  fide. 

Chub.     I,  the  law  is  in  our  hands. 

Spi.     Peace,  you  rogues  ! 

Fal.     And   more :    a  blefling  by  the   word    pro- 

pos'd 

To  thofe  that  aide  a  true  anointed  king. 
Courage,  braue  fpirits,  and  cry  a  Falconbridge ! 

All.     A  Falconbridge !  a  Falconbridge ! 


io  The  firft  part  of 

FaL     We  will  be  Matters  of  the  Mint  ourfelues, 
And  fet  our  own  ftamp  on  the  golden  coin. 
We'll  fhoe  our  neighing  couriers  with  no  worfe 
Than  the  pure  ft  filuer  that  is  folde  in  Cheape. 
At  Leadenhall,  we'll  fell  pearles  by  the  pecke, 
As  now  the  mealmen  vfe  to  fell  their  meal. 
In  Wejlminfter,  wt'll  keep  a  folemne  court, 
And  build  it  bigger  to  receiue  our  men. 
Cry  Falconbridge,  my  hearts,  and  liberty  ! 

AIL     Falconbridge  and  liberty,  &c. 

Smoke.     Peace,  ye  flaues  ;  or  I  will  fmoke  ye  elfe. 

Chub.  Peace,  ye  flaues,  or  I  will  chub  your  chaps  ; 
but  indeed  thou  mayeft  well  fmoke  them,  be£aufe  thy 
name  is  Smoke. 

Smoke.  Why,  firs,  I  hope  Smoke,  the  fmith  of  Chep- 
flead,  is  as  good  a  man  as  Chub,  the  chandler  of  Sand 
wich. 

Spi.     Peace,  ye  rogues  >  what,  are  you  quarrelling  1 
and  now  lift  to  Captaine  Spicing. 
You  know  Cheapfide :  there  are  the  mercers'  mops. 
Where  we  will  meafure  veluet  by  the  pikes, 
And  filkes  and  fatins  by  the  ftreet's  whole  bredth  : 
We'le  take  the  tankards  from  the  conduit-cocks 
To  fill  with  ipocras  and  drinke  carouie, 
Where  chains  of  gold  and  plate  mall  be  as  plenty 
As  wooden  dimes  in  the  wild  of  Kent. 

Smoke.  Oh,  brauely  faid,  Ned  Spicing  \  the  honeft- 
eft  lad  that  euer  pound  fpice  in  a  mortar.  Now  fpeaks 
Captaine  Smoke. 

Looke,  lads  ;  for  from  this  hill  ye  may  difcerne 
The  louely  town  which  we  are  marching  to  : 
That  fame  is  London,  lads,  ye  looke  vpon  : 
Range  all  arow,  my  heares,  and  ftand  at  gaze, 
As  do  the  herds  of  deere  at  fome  ftrange  fight, 
Or  as  a  troop  of  hungry  trauellers, 
That  fixe  their  eyes  vpon  a  furnifht  feaft. 
Looke  how  the  Tower  doth  tice  vs  to  come  on, 
To  take  out  Henry  the  Sixt,  there  prifoner  : 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 1 

See  how  Saint  Katharines  fmokes  ;  wipe,  flaues,  your 

eyes, 
And  whet  your  flomachs  for  the  good  malt-pies. 

Chub.    Why,  then,  belike  I  am  nobody.  Room  and 
avoidance,  for  now  fpeaks  Captain  Chub. 
No  fooner  in  London  will  wee  be, 
But  the  bakers  for  you,  the  brewers  for  mee. 
Birchin  lane  mail  fuite  vs. 
The  coftermongers  fruite  vs, 
The  poulters  fend  vs  in  fowl, 
And  butchers  meate  without  controul : 
And  euer  when  we  fuppe  or  dine, 
The  vintners  freely  bring  vs  in  wine. 
In  anybody  aske  who  mail  pay, 
Cut  off  his  head  and  fend  him  away. 
This  is  Captain  Chub's  law,  whofoeuer  fay  nay. 

Fal,     Brauely  refolued,  fo  march  we  forward  all, 
And  boldly  fay,  good  luck  mail  us  befall.         Exeunt. 

Enter  the  Lord  Mayor,  M.  Shore,  and  M.  Joffelin,  in 
their  veluet  coats  and  gorgets,  and  leading Jlaues. 

Mayor.   This  is  well  done.  Thus  mould  good  Citti- 

zens 

Fafhion  themfelues  as  well  for  warre  as  peace. 
Haue  ye  commanded  that  in  euery  ftreete 
They  hang  forth  lights  as  foon  as  night  comes  on  1 
Say  coufm  Shore  ;  that  was  referr'd  to  you. 

Shore.     We  haue,  my  lord.     Befides,  from   euery 

hall 
There  is  at  leafl  two  hundred  men  in  armes. 

Mayor.     It  cheeres  my  heart  to  hear  this  readi- 

neffe. 

Let  neuer  rebels  put  true  mbiects  down. 
Come  when  they  will,  their  welcome  mall  be  fuch, 
As  they  had  better  kept  them  further  off. 
But  where  is  Maifter  Recorder  ?  his  aduice 
Muft  not  be  wanting  in  thefe  high  affairs. 

Shore.     About  an  hour  ago,  and  lorn e what  more, 


1 2  The  firft  part  of 

I  left  him  fortifying  the  bridge,  my  lord ; 
Which  done,  he  purpofed  to  meete  you  here. 

Maior.     A  difcreet  painful  gentleman  he  is, 
And  we  mull  all  of  vs  be  fo  inclin'd, 
If  we  intend  to  haue  the  City  fafe, 
Or  look  for  thanks  and  credit  with  the  King. 
I  tell  ye,  matters,  aged  though  I  be, 
I,  for  my  part,  will  to  no  bed  this  night. 

Jof.     Why,  is  it  thought  the  Baflard  is  fo  near? 

Maior.     How    meane    ye,    Maifter    Joffelin,    by 

near  ? 

He  neither  comes  from  Italy  nor  Sp&in  ; 
But  out  of  Kent  and  EJfex,  which  you  know 
Are  both  fo  near,  as  nearer  cannot  be. 

Jof.     Nay,  by  your  patience,  good  my  Lord,  a 

word. 

Simple  tho'  I  am,  yet  I  muft  confefs, 
A  mifchief  further  off  would,  and  fo  forth  ; 
You  knowe  my  meaning.     Things  not  feene  before 
Are,  and  fo  forth.     Yet,  in  good  fadneffe, 
I  would  that  all  were  well ;  and  perchance 
It  may  be  fo.     What !  were  it  not  for  hope, 
The  heart,  and  fo  forth.     But  to  the  matter  : 
You  meane  and  purpofe ;  I,  I  am  fure  ye  do. 

Maior.    Well,  maifler  J off  din,  we  are  fure  ye  mean 

well, 
Although  fomewhat  defecliue  in  your  vtterance. 

Jof.     Ay,  ay,  my  Lord  Maior,  I  am  you  know, 
Willing,    ready,    and    fo    forth;    tut,    tut,    for    me, 

ha,  ha  ! 

My  manfion  is  at  Ham,  and  thence,  you  know, 
I  come  to  help  you  in  this  needfull  time, 
When  rebels  are  fo  bufy,  and  fo  forth. 
What,  mafters  ?  age  mud  neuer  be  defpis'd. 
You  mail  find  me,  my  Lord,  Hill,  and  fo  forth. 

Enter  Urswick,  the  Recorder. 
Shore.     My  lord,  now  here  comes  Maifter  Recorder. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 3 

Rec,   Good  eu'n,  my  good  Lord  Maior.  The  ftreets 

are  chain 'd, 

The  bridge  well  mann'd,  and  euery  place  prepared. 
Shall  we  now  go  together  and  confult 
What  elfe  there  is  to  be  determin'd  of  ? 

Maior.     Your  coming,   Maifter  Recorder,  was  the 

thing 

We  all  defired ;  therefore,  let  vs  confult. 
And  now  what  fay  ye,  if  with  halfe  our  power 
We  iffue  forth  and  giue  the  rebels  fight  ? 

Rec.     Before  they  do  prouoke  vs  nearer  hand. 
There  were  no  way  to  that,  if  all  be  pleafed. 
Whats  your  opinion,  Maifter  Jofielin  ? 

Jof.     Good  footh,  my  lord  Maior  and  Maifter  Re 
corder, 

You  may  take  your  choice ;  but,  in  my  conceit, 
Iffue  if  you  will,  or  elfe  flay  if  you  will. 
A  man  can  neuer  be  too  wary  and  fo  forth. 
Yet,  as  to  iffue  will  not  be  the  worft, 
Even  fo  to  tarry.     Well,  you  may  think  more  on't, 
But  all  is  one  ;  we  mall  be  fure  to  fight, 
And  you  are  wife  enough  to  fee  your  time  ; 
I,  I,  a  God's  name. 

Rec.  My  Lord, 

Accept  his  meaning  better  than  his  counfell. 

Maior.     I,  fo  we  do,  or  elfe  we  were  to  blame. 
What  if  we  flop  the  paffage  of  the  Thames 
With  fuch  prouifion  as  we  haue  of  fhips  ? 

Rec.     'Tis   doubtful    yet,    my    lord,    whether   the 

rebels 

Purpofe  that  way  to  feek  our  detriment. 
Rather,  mefeemeth,  they  will  come  by  land, 
And  either  make  affault  at  London  Bridge, 
Or  elfe  at  Aldgate,  both  which  entrances 
Were  good  they  mould  be  ftrongly  fortified. 

Jof.    Well  faid,  maifter  Recorder.     You  do.     I,  I 
I  ye  warrant. 

Rec.     As  for  the  other,  the  whole  companies 
Of  Mercers,  Grocers,  Drapers,  and  the  refl, 


14  The  firft  part  of 

Are  drawne  together,  for  their  bed  defence, 
Befide  the  Tower,  a  neighbour  to  that  place, 
As  on  the  one  fide  it  will  cleare  the  riuer, 
So  on  the  other,  with  their  ordinance, 
It  may  repulfe  and  beate  them  from  the  gate. 

A  noife  within 

Maior.     What  noife  is  this  1  prouide  ye  fuddenly, 
And  euerie  man  betake  him  to  his  charge. 


Enter  a  Meffenger. 


Shore.     Soft ;  who  is  this  1     How  now,  my  friende, 
what  newes  ? 

Mef.     My  mafter,  the  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower, 
Giues  ye  to  vnderftand  he  hath  defcried 
The  army  of  the  rebels. 

Rec.     Which  way  come  they  ? 

Mef.     From    Effexward ;    and    therefore    'tis   his 

mind 
You  guard  both  Aldgate  well  and  Bijhopfgate. 

Maior.     Saint  George,  away  !  and  let  vs  all  refolue 
Either  to  vanquim  this  rebellious  rout, 
Preferue  our  goods,  our  children,  and  our  wiues, 
Or  feale  our  refolution  with  our  Hues.  Exeunt. 


Enter  Falconbridge,  with  Spicing  and  his  Troopes. 

Fal.      Summon  the  City,  and  command   our  en 
trance  ; 

Which,  if  we  mail  be  ftubbornly  denied, 
Our  power  mall  rum  like  thunder  through  the  walls. 

Spi.     Open  your  gates,  flaues,  when  I  command  ye. 


Spicing  beats  on  the  gates,  and  then  enters  the  Lord 
Maior  and  his  affociates,  with  prentices. 

Maior.     What's  he  that  beats    thus    at    the  City 
gates, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 5 

Commanding  entrance  as  he  were  a  king  ? 

FaL     He  that  will  haue  releafement  for  a  King, 
I,  Thomas  Neuille,  the  Lord  Falconbridge. 

Spi.  Ho,  firrah,  you  clapperdudgin,  vnlocke,  vn- 
bolt !  or  I'll  bolt  you,  if  I  get  in.  Stand  you  preach 
ing,  with  a  pox  ? 

Maior.     We  haue  no  warrant,  Thomas  Falconbridge, 
To  let  your  armed  troops  into  our  city, 
Confidering  you  haue  taken  vp  thefe  arms 
Againft  our  foueraign  and  our  countries  peace. 

FaL     I  tell  thee,  Maior,  and  know  he  tells  thee  fo, 
That  cometh  armed  in  a  king's  defence, 
That  I  craue  entrance  in  King  Henrys  name, 
In  right  of  the  true  line  of  Lancajler. 
Methinks  that  word,  fpoke  from  a  Neuille' s  mouth, 
Should    like    an     earthquake    rend    your     chained 

gates. 

And  tear  in  pieces  your  portcullifes. 
I  thunder  it  again  into  your  ears, 
You  flout  and  braue  couragious  Londoners ; 
In  Henry's  name,  I  craue  my  entrance  in. 

Rec.     Should  Henry's  name  command  the  entrance 

here, 

We  mould  deny  allegiance  vnto  Edward, 
Whofe  true  and  faithful  fubiecls  we  are  fworn,     , 
And  in  whofe  prefence  is  our  fword  vpborne. 

FaL     I  tell  thee,  traitor,    then    thou    bear'fl   thy 

fword 
Againft  thy  true  vndoubted  king. 

Shore.     Nay,  then,  I  tell  thee,  baftard  Falconbridge, 
My  lord  Maior  bears  his  fword  in  his  defence, 
That  put  the  fword  into  the  arms  of  London, 
Made  the  lord  Maiors  for  euer  after  knights, 
Richard,  depos'd  by  Henry  Bolingbroke, 
From  whom  the  houfe  of  Yorke  doth  claime  their 
right. 

FaL     What's  he  that  anfwers  vs  thus  faucily  ? 

Smoke.     Sirrah,  your  name,  that  we  may  know  ye 
hereafter. 


1 6  The  firft  part  of 

Shore.     My  name    is  Shore,  a  goldfmith    by   my 
trade. 

FaL     What  !  not  that  Shore  that  hath  the  dainty 

wife? 
Store's  wife,  the  flow'r  of  London  for  her  beauty  ! 

Shore.     Yes,  rebel,  eu'n  the  very  lame. 

Spi.  Run,  rafcal,  and  fetch  thy  wife  to  oui 
General  prefently,  or  elfe  all  the  gold  in  Cheapfide 
cannot  ranfom  her.  Wilt  thou  not  ftirre  when  I  bid 
thee? 

FaL     Shore,  liften  :  thy  wife  is  mine,  thats  flat. 
This   night,   in   thine   own    houfe,    me    fleeps   with 

me. 
Now,  Crosby,  lord  Maior,  mall  we  enter  in  ? 

Maior.     Crosby,  the  lord  Maior,  tells  thee,  proud 
rebel,  no. 

FaL     No,   Crosby    mall    I    not?       Then     doting 

lord, 

I  cram  the  name  of  rebel  down  thy  throat. 
There's  not  the  pooreft  rafcal  of  my  camp, 
But  if  he  chance  to  meet  thee  in  Cheapfide, 
Vpon  thy  foot-cloth,  he  mall  make  thee  light, 
And  hold  his  flirrup  while  he  mount  thy  horfe, 
Then  lackey  him  which  way  he  pleafe  to  go. 
Crosby,  I'll  make  the  citizens  be  glad 
To  fend  thee  and  the  aldermen,  thy  brethren, 
All  manacled  and  chain'd  like  galley-flaues, 
To  ranfom  them  and  to  redeem  the  city. 

Maior.     Nay,  then,  proud  rebel,  paufe,  and  hear 

me  fpeak. 

There's  not  the  poorefl  and  meaneft  citizen, 
That  is  a  faithful  fubiecl  to  the  King, 
But,  in  defpite  of  thy  rebellious  rout, 
Shall  walk  to  Bowe,  a  fmall  wand  in  his  hand, 
Although  thou  lie  encamp'd  at  Mile-end  Green, 
And  not  the  proudefl  rebel  of  you  all 
Shall  dare  to  touch  him  for  his  damned  foul. 
Come,  we  will  pull  vp  our  portcullifes, 
And  let  me  fee  thee  enter  if  thou  dare. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 7 

Fal     Spoken  like  a  man,  and  true  veluet-iacket, 
And  we  will  enter,  or  ftrike  by  the  way.  Exeunt. 


Enter  Lord  Maior,  Recorder,  and  loffelin. 

Maior.     Where's  Matter  Recorder  and  Matter  lof- 
felinl 

Rec.     Here,  my  lord  Maior.    We  now  haue  manned 

the  walls, 
And  fortified  fuch  places  as  were  needfull. 

Maior.     Why,  it  is  well,  brothers  and  citizens  ; 
Sticke  to  your  city  as  good  men  mould  do. 
Think  that  in  Richard's  time  even  fuch  a  rebel 
Was  then  by  Walworth,  the  lord  Maior  of  London, 
Stabb'd  dead  in  Smithfield. 
Then  mow  yourfelues  as  it  befits  the  time, 
And  let  this  find  a  hundred  Walworths  now 
Dare  flabbe  a  rebell,  were  he  made  of  braffe. 
And,  prentices,  ftick  to  your  officers, 
For  you  may  come  to  be  as  we  are  now. 
God  and  our  King  again  ft  an  arrant  rebel  ! 
Brothers,  away  ;  let  vs  defend  our  walles. 

Firft  Ap.     My  Lord,   your  wordes    are    able    to 

infufe 

A  double  courage  in  a  coward's  breaft. 
Then  feare  not  vs  ;  although  our  chins  be  bare, 
Our  hearts  are  good  :  the  trial  mall  be  feene 
Againtt  thefe  rebels  on  this  champion  greene. 

Sec.  Ap.     We   haue    no    trickes    nor    policies    of 

warre, 

But  by  the  antient  cuftom  of  our  fathers, 
We'll  foundly  lay  it  on  ;  take't  off  that  will  : 
And,  London  prentices,  be  rul'd  by  me  j 
Die  ere  ye  lofe  fair  Londons  liberty. 

Spi.     How  now,  my  flat-caps ,   are  you  growne  fo 

brave  ? 

'Tis  but  your  wordes  :  when  matters  come  to  proofe, 
You'll  feud  as  twere  a  company  of  fheepe. 


1 8  The  firft  part  of 

My  counfel  therefore  is  to  keepe  your  fhoppes. 
What  lacke  you  ?  better  will  befeeme  your  mouthes 
Than    terms    of   warre.      In    footh,    you    are    too 
yong. 

Firft  Ap.     Sirrah,  go  to  ;  you  (hall  not  finde  it  fo. 
Flat-caps  thou  caH'ft  vs.     We  fcorne  not  the  name, 
And  fhortly,  by  the  vertue  of  our  f words, 
We'll  make  your  cappe  fo  fit  unto  your  crowne, 
As  fconce  and  cappe  and  all  mail  kiffe  the  ground. 

Sec.  Ap.     You  are  thofe  defperate,  idle,  fwaggering 

mates, 

That  haunt  the  fuburbes  in  the  time  of  peace, 
And  raife  vp  ale-houfe  brawls  in  the  flreete ; 
And  when  the  rumour  of  the  warre  begins, 
You  hide  your  heads,  and  are  not  to  be  found. 
Thou  term'ft  it  better  that  we  keep  our  fhoppes. 
It's  good  indeede  wee  mould  have  fuch  a  care, 
But  yet,  for  all  our  keeping  now  and  then, 
Your  pilfring  fingers  break  into  our  locks, 
Vntil  at  Tyburn  you  acquit  the  fault. 
Go  to  :  albeit  by  cuflome  we  are  milde, 
As  thofe  that  do  profeffe  ciuility, 
Yet,  being  mou  d,  a  neft  of  angry  hornets 
Shall  not  be  more  offeniiue  than  we  will. 
Wele  fly  about  your  ears  and  fting  your  hearts. 

Joff.     He  tells  you   truth,    my  friends,    and    fo 
forth. 

Pal.     Who  can  endure  to  be  fo  brau'd  by  boys  ? 

Firft  Ap.     Nay,  fcorn  vs  not  that  we  are  prentices. 
The  Chronicles  of  England  can  report 
What  memorable  actions  we  haue  done, 
To  which  this  daies  achieuement  mall  be  knit, 
To  make  the  volume  larger  than  it  is. 

Maior.     Now,  of  mine  honour,  ye  do  cheere  my 

heart. 
Braue  Englifh  offsprings,  valiantly  refolu'd  ! 

Sec.  Ap.     My  Lord,  return  you  back  ;  let  vs  alone  ; 
You  are  our  mafters ;  giue  vs  leaue  to 'work ; 
And  if  we  do  not  vanquifh  them  in  fight, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 9 

Let  vs  go  fupperlefs  to  bed  at  night. 

Exeunt  all  but  Spicing,  Smoke,  and  their  creu>. 

Spi.  Smoke,  get  thee  vp  on  the  top  of  S.  Buttolphs 
fteeple,  and  make  a  proclamation. 

Smoke.     What,  a  plague,  fhould  I  proclaime  there  ? 

Spi.     That  the  bells  be  rung  backward, 
And  cutting  of  throats  be  cried  hauock. 
No  more  calling  of  lanthorn  and  candle-light : 
That  maidenheads  be  valued  at  juft  nothing; 
And  facke  be  fold  by  the  fallet. 

That  no  piddling  flaue  ftand  to  picke  a  locke,  but 
flam  me  off  the  hinges,  as  one  would  flit  up  a  cow's 
paunch. 

Smoke.  Let  no  man  haue  leffe  then  a  warehoufe  to 
his  wardrope.  Cry  a  fig  for  a  fergeant,  and  walk  ty 
the  Counter  like  a  lord  :  plucke  out  the  clapper  of 
Bow  Bell,  and  hang  vp  all  the  fextons  in  the  city. 

Spi.  Rantum,  fcantum,  rogues,  follow  your  leader, 
Cavallero  Spicing,  the  maddeil  flaue  that  euer  pund 
fpice  in  a  mortar. 

Smoke.  Take  me  an  vfurer  by  the  greafie  pouch 
and  lhake  out  his  crownes,  as  a  hungry  dog  would 
make  a  haggas.  Bar  foule  play,  rogues,  and  Hue  by 
honeft  filching  and  dealing  :  he  that  hath  a  true  finger, 
let  him  forfeit  his  face  to  the  frying-pan.  Follow  your 
leader,  rogues,  follow  your  leader  ! 

Spi.     Affault,  affault  !  and  cry,  a  Falconbridge  ! 

Joffelin  on  the  walls  cries  to  them 

Jos.  Sirrah  Spicing,  if  Spicing  be  thy  name,  we  are 
here  for  matters  and  caufes  as  it  might  feem  for  the 
king  :  therefore,  it  were  good,  and  fo  forth. 

Spi.  Open  the  gates ;  or,  if  we  be  the  picklocks, 
ye  rogues,  we'll  play  the  mafliff  dogs  amongft  you.  If 
I  worry  not  a  thoufand  of  you  with  my  teeth,  let  me 
be  hanged  in  a  packthread,  and  fo  forth. 

Jos.  Fond  fellow,  iuftice  is  to  be  vfed  ;  I,  marry, 

c  2 


2O  The  fir/I  part  of 

is  it ;  and  law  in  fome  fort,  as  it  were,  is  to  be  fol 
lowed.  Oh,  God  forbid  elfe !  This  our  magiflrate 
hath  power  as  might  feem,  and  fo  forth  ;  for  duty  is  to 
be  obferued,  and  officers  mufl  be  obeyed,  in  fort  and 
calling,  and  fo  forth. 

Spi.     We'll  talk  more,  anon,  good  Mailer  and-fo- 
forth. 

Here  is  a  very  fierie  affault  on  all  fides,  wherein  the 
prentices  doe  great  feruice. 

Enter  Falconbridge,  angry,  with  his  men. 

Fal.     Why  this  is  to  truft  to  thefe  bafe  rogues, 
This  dirty  fcum  of  rafcal  peafantry, 
This  heartlefs  rout  of  bafe  rafcality. 
A  plague  vpon  you  all,  you  cowardly  rogues, 
You  crauen  curs,  you  (limy  muddy  clownes, 
Whofe  courage  but  confifts  in  multitude, 
Like  fheep  and  neat  that  follow  one  another, 
Which  if  one  run  away,  all  follow  after  ; 
This  hedgebred  rafcal,  this  filthy  fry  of  ditches ; 
A  vengeance  take  you  all !     This  'tis  to  lead  you. 
Now  do  you  cry  and  mrieke  at  euery  fhocke ; 
A  hot  confuming  mifchief  follow  you  ! 

Spi.     'Swounds  !    fcale,  rogues,  fcale  !     A  Falcon- 
bridge,  a  Falconbridge  \ 

Enter  Lord  Maior  and  his  train. 

Maior.     Set  open  the  gates  !     Nay,  then,  we'll  fally 

out. 

It  neuer  (hall  be  faid,  when  I  was  Maior, 
The  Londoners  were  (hut  vp  in  the  city. 
Then  cry  King  Edward,  and  let's  iffue  out. 

Fal.     Now,  if  ye  be  true-hearted  Englifhmen, 
The  gates  fet  open  and  the  portcullis  vp, 
Let's  pell-mell  in,  to  flop  their  paffage  out. 
He  that  firft  enters  be  poffeft  of  Cheape, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  2 1 

I  glue  him  it  freely,  and  the  chiefeft  wench. 

Spi.  That  he  can  finde.  Let  that  lie  in  the  bar- 
gaine.  Exeunt. 

The  Lord  Maior  and  the  Citizens  hauin%  valiantly 
repulfed  the  Rebels  from  the  city,  enters  Falcon  - 
bridge  and  Spicing,  and  their  train,  wounded  and 
difmayed. 

Spi.  Hearefl  thou,  general  1  there's  hot  drinking 
at  the  Mouth  of  Bifhopf-gate,  for  our  foldiers  are  all 
mouth.  They  lie  like  rafcals,  with  their  braines 
beaten  out,  Therefore,  fmce  we  are  all  like  to  feede 
hogs  in  Houndfditch,  let  vs  retire  our  troopes,  and 
faue  our  maimed  men :  or,  if  we  iffue  further,  we  are 
put  to  the  fword,  euery  mothers  fonne  of  vs. 

Fal.     Art    thou    that    villain,    in  whofe  damned 

mouth 

Was  neuer  heard  of  any  word  but  wounds  ? 
Whofe  recreant  limbs  are  notcht  with  gaping  fears, 
Thicker  than  any  carking  craftfmans  fcore, 
Whofe  very  fcalp  is  fcratch'd,  and  craz'd,  and  broken, 
Like  an  old  mazer  beaten  on  the  Hones ; 
And  ftandU  thou  now  to  faue  our  maimed  men  ? 
A  plague  upon  thee,  coward  ! 

Spi.  Why  how  now,  bafe  Thomas  ?  'S  wounds  ! 
wert  thou  a  bafe-viol,  thou  art  but  a  rafcal  and  a  rebel, 
as  I  am,  hearefl  thou  1  If  I  do  not  turn  true  fubiec~l, 
and  leaue  thee,  let  me  be  worried  with  dogs. 
'Swounds  !  doll  thou  impeach  my  manhood  ?  Tom  Ne 
ville,  thou  had'ft  as  good  to  haue  damned  thyfelf  as 
uttered  fuch  a  word.  Flatly,  I  forfake  thee ;  and  all 
that  loue  Ned  Spicing,  follow  me. 

Here  the  reft  offer  to  follow. 

Fal.     Come,  come,  ye  tefly  fool,  thou    feeft   me 

grieu'd, 

Yet  canft  not  beare  with  mine  infirmity. 
Thou  knowes  I  hold  thee  for  as  tall  a  man 
As  any  hues  or  breathes  our  Englifh  aire. 


22  The  firft  part  of 


• 


I  know  there  Hues  not  a  more  fiery  fpirit, 

A  more  refolued,  valiant.     A  plague  vpon  it 

Thou  knowft  I  loue  thee  ;  yet  if  a  word  efcape 

My  lips,  in  anger,  how  tefly  then  thou  art. 

I  had  rather  all  men  left  me  then  thyfelf. 

Thou  art  my  foul :  thou  art  my  genius. 

I  cannot  Hue  without  thee,  not  an  hour. 

Thus  mud  I  ftill  be  forcd,  againfl  my  will,  afide. 

To  foothe  this  dirty  flaue,  this  cowardly  rafcall. 

Come,  come,  be  friends,  ye  tefly  firebrand ! 

We  muft  retire.     There  is  no  remedy. 

Spi.     Nay,   Tom,  if  thou  wilt  haue  me  mount  on 

the  walls, 

And  cafl  myfelf  down  headlong  on  their  pikes, 
He  do  it.     But  to  impeach  my  valour ! 
Had  any  man  but  thou  fpoke  half  fo  much, 
I  would  haue  fpilt  his  heart.     Still  beware 
My  valour  :  fuch  words  go  hardly  down. 
Well,    I   am   friends  :    thou   thoughtft   not   as  thou 
fpakfl. 

JFal.     No ;   on  my  foule,  thou  think'fl  not  that  I 
did.  » 

Sound  a  retreat  there,  I  command  ye,  ftrait ! 
But  whither  mail  we  retire  ? 

Spi.      To   Mile-end  Greene.      There  is  no    fitter 
place. 

Fal.     Then  let  vs  back  retire  to  Mile-end  Greene, 
And  there  expecl  frefh  fuccour  from  our  friends, 
With  fuch  fupply  as  mall  ere  long  affure 
The  city  is  our  own.     March  on  !     Away  !      Exeunt. 

Enter  Lord  Maior,  with  his  irame,  and  prentices. 

Maior.     Ye  haue  beftirr'd  you  like  good  citizens, 
And  mown  yourfelues  true  fubiecls  to  your  king. 
You  worthily,  prentices,  beflir'd  yourfelues, 
That  it  did  cheer  my  heart  to  fee  your  valour. 
The  rebels  are  retir'd  to  Mile-end  Greene. 


Kin%  Edward  the  fourth.  23 

Rec.     Where  fo  we  may  not  fuffer  them  to  reft, 
But  iCfue  forth  vpon  them  with  frefh  force. 

*¥<)$.  My  lord  Maior,  diligence  doth  well,  and  fo 
forth.  Matters  muft  be  looked  into  as  they  ought, 
indeed  mould  they.  When  things  are  well  done,  they 
are,  and  fo  forth  ;  for  caufes  and  things  mufl  indeed 
be  looked  into. 

Maior.     Well,    fir,    we    very    well   conceiue    your 

meaning, 

And  you  haue  mown  yourfelf  a  worthy  gentleman. 
See  that  our  walls  be  kept  with  courts  of  guard, 
And  well  defended  againft  the  enemy ; 
For  we  will  now  withdraw  vs  to  Guildhall, 
To  take  aduice  what  further  mufl  be  done.      Exeunt, 

Enter  Mafter  Shore  and  Jane,  his  Wife, 

Shore.     Be    not    afraid,   fweetheart,   the    worft  is 

pafl: 

God  haue  the  praife,  the  victory  is  ours. 
We  haue  preuailed  :  the  rebels  are  repuls'd, 
And  euery  flreete  of  London  foundeth  ioy. 
Canft  thou,  then,  gentle  Jane,  be  fad  alone  1 

Jane.     I  am  not  fad  now  you  are  here  with  me, 
My  ioy,  my  hope,  my  comfort,  and  my  loue, 
My  dear,  dear  husband,  kindeft  Matthew  Shore. 
But  when  thefe  arms,  the  circles  of  my  foule, 
Were  in  the  fight  fo  forward,  as  I  heard, 
How  could  I  choofe,  fweetheart,  but  be  afraide  ? 

Shore.     Why  doll  thou  tremble  now,  when   perils 
pail  2 

Jane.     I  think  vpon  the  horror  of  the  time. 
But  tell  me  why  you  fought  fo  defperately  1 

Shore.     Firft  to  maintain  King  Edward's  royalty ; 
Next,  to  defend  the  city's  liberty ; 
But  chiefly  Jane,  to  keep  thee  from  the  toil 
Of  him  that  to  my  face  did  vow  thy  fpoil. 
Had  he  preuaild,  where  then  had  been  our  Hues  ? 
Difhonourd  our  daughters,  rauifhd  our  fair  wiues  ; 


24  The  fir/I  part  of 

Poffeffd  our  goods,  and  fet  our  feruants  free  ; 
Yet  all  this  nothing  to  the  lofs  of  thee. 

Ja?ie.     Of  me  fvveetheart  ?  why  how  fhould  I 

loft? 

Were  I  by  thoufand  ftormes  of  fortune  toft, 
And  fhould  indure  the  pooreft  wretched  life, 
Yet  Jane  will  be  thy  honefl  loyal  wife. 
The  greateft  prince  the  Sunne  did  euer  fee, 
Shall  neuer  make  me  proue  vntrue  to  thee. 

Shore.     I    feare    not    faire   means,   but    a    rebels 

force. 
Jane.     Thefe  hands  mail  make  this  body  a  dead 

corfe 

Ere  force  or  flattery  mail  mine  honour  flain. 
Shore.     True  fame  furuiues,  when  death  the  flem 
hath  flain. 

Enter  an  Officer  from  the  Lord  Maior. 

Officer.     God  faue  ye,  matter  Shore,  and,  miflrifs, 

by  your  leaue ; 

Sir,  my  lord  Maior  fends  for  you  by  me, 
And  prays  your  fpeedy  prefence  at  Guildhall, 
Theres  newes  the  rebels  haue  made  head  againe, 
And  haue  enfconcd  themfelues  vpon  Mile-end, 
And  prefently  our  armed  men  mufl  out. 
You  being  Captaine  of  two  companies, 
In  honour  of  your  valour  and  your  skill, 
Muft  leade  the  vaward.     God  and  right  fland  with 

ye! 
Shore.     Friend,  tell  my  Lord  He  wait  vpon  him 

ftrait. 
lane.     Friend,  tell  my  Lord  he  does  my  husband 

wrong, 

To  fet  him  foremoft  in  the  danger  flill. 
Ye  fhall  not  goe,  if  I  may  haue  my  will. 

Shore.     Peace,  wife,  no  more.     Friend,  I  will  fol 
low  ye.  Exit, 
lane.     Ifaith  ye  fhall  not.    Prethee  do  not  go. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  25 

Shore.     Not  go,  fweetheart?  that  were  a  cowards 

trick, 

A  traitor's  part,  to  fhrink  when  others  fight. 
Enuy  fhall  neuer  fay  that  Matthew  Shore, 
The  goldfmith,  flayd,  when  other  men  went  out 
To  meet  his  Kings  and  countrys  enemy. 
No,  lane  ;  gainft  all  the  rebels  on  Mile-end, 
I  dare  alone  King  Edwards  right  defend. 

lane.     If  you  be  flaine,  what  fhall  become  of  me  1 
Shore.     Right  well,  my  wench  :  enow  will  marry 

thee. 

I  leaue  thee  worth  at  leaft  fiue  thoufand  pound. 
lane.      Marry   again  ?   that   word  my   heart   doth 
wound.  She  weeps. 

I'll  neuer  marry,  nor  I  will  not  Hue 
If  thou  be  killd.     Let  me  go  with  thee,  Mat. 

Shore.     Tis  idle  talke,  good   lane ;   no   more   of 

that. 

Go  to  my  lady  Maioreffe  and  the  reft, 
As  you  are  ft  ill  companion  with  the  beft ; 
With  them  be  merrie,  and  pray  for  our  good  fpeed. 
lane.     To   part   from   thee,   my   very  heart   doth 
bleed.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Falconbridge  with  his  Troops,  marching  as  being 
at  Mile  end. 

Fal.     Yet  ftand  we  in  the  fight  of  vpreard  Troy, 
And  fuck  the  air  fhe  draws  :  our  very  breath 
Flies  from  our  noftrils  warme  vnto  the  walls. 
We  beard  her  briftling  fpires,  her  battled  towers, 
And  proudly  ftand  and  gaze  her  in  the  face. 
Look  on  me,  and  I  doubt  not  ye  imagine 
My  worth  as  great  as  any  one  of  yours, 
My  fortunes,  would  I  bafely  fawn  on  Edward, 
To  be  as  fair  as  any  mans  in  England. 
But  he  that  keeps  your  Soueraign  in  the  Tower 
Hath  feized  my  land,  and  robbd  me  of  my  right. 
I  am  a  gentleman  as  well  as  hee. 
What  he  hath  got,  he  holds  by  tyranny. 


2  6  The  firft  part  of 

Now,  if  you  faint,  or  cowardly  fhould  fly, 
There  is  no  hope  for  any  one  to  Hue. 
We  heare  the  Londoners  will  leaue  the  city, 
And  bid  vs  battle  here  on  Mile-end  Green, 
Whom  if  we  vanquifh,  then  we  take  the  town, 
And  ride  in  triumph  thorough  Cheape  to  Pauls. 
The  Mint  is  ours,  Cheape,  Lombard  Street,  our  own  ; 
The  meanefl  foldier  wealthier  than  a  king. 

Spi.  March  fair,  ye  rogues,  all  kings  or  capknitters. 
Dofl  thou  hear,  Tom  Falconbridge  %  I  prithee  grant 
me  one  boon  I  mail  aske  thee. 

Fal.     What  is   it,   Ned'i    its   hard  I  mould  deny 
thee. 

Spi.  Why,  that  when  we  haue  won  the  city,  as 
we  cannot  chufe  but  win  it,  that  I  may  haue  the 
knighting  of  all  thefe  rogues  and  rafcals. 

Fal.     What  then  1 

Spi.  What  then1?  Zounds,  I  fcorn  your  fcuruy, 
wry-mouthed  What  then  1  Now,  a  poxe  take  me  if  I 
fight  a  blow. 

Fal.     Why,  this  is  fine.     Go  to  ;  knight  whom  thou 
wilt. 

Spi.  Who  ?  I  knight  any  of  them  ?  He  fee  them 
hanged  firfl  for  a  company  of  tattered  ragged  rafcals. 
If  I  were  a  king,  I  would  not  knight  one  of  them. 

Chub.     What,  not  me,  Cavallero  Chub,? 

Spi.  Yes,  I  care  not  if  1  knight  thee  ;  and  yet  He 
fee  thee  hanged  ere  He  honour  thee  fo  much.  I  care 
not  fo  much  for  the  matter  ;  but  I  would  not  be 
denied  my  humour. 

Fal.     Why,  what  a  perverfe  fellow  art  thou,  Ned  ! 

Spi.  Ho,  my  fine  Tom,  my  braue  Falconbridge,  my 
mad  Greeke,  my  lufty  Neuille  \  thou  art  a  king,  a 
Ccefar  \  a  plague  on  thee  ;  I  loue  thee  not,  and  yet 
He  die  with  thee. 

Enter  the  Lord  Maior,  Recorder,  loffelin,  Shore,  and 
their  Soldiers,  marching. 

Maior.     See  how  rebellion  can  exalt  itfelf, 


King  Edward  the  fourth*  27 

Pruning  the  feathers  of  fick  difcipline. 

Rec.     They  think  they  can  outlook  our  truer  looks. 

Shore.     Mark  but  the  fcornful  eye  of  Falconbridge. 

Maior.     I  rather  think  tis  feare  vpon  his  cheeke. 
Deciphers  pale  difturbance  in  his  heart. 

Jos.    Our  coming  forth  hath — well,  I  fay  no  more; 
But  (hall  we  take  occafion,  and  fo  forth  ? 
Rebellion  fhould  haue  no  refpite.     Oh,  my  lord, 
The  time  hath  been — but  all  is  one  for  that. 

Spi.     How  like  a  troop  of  rank  oreridden  jades 
Yon  bumy-bearded  citizens  appeare  ! 

Chub.     Nay,  rather  fo  many  men  in  the  moone, 
And  euery  one  a  furzen  bufh  in  his  mouth. 

Spi.     The  four  and  twenty  wards  !  now,  fair  befal 

them; 

Would  any  one  haue  thought  before  this  houre, 
There  had  been  fuch  increafe  of  muddy  flaues? 

Fal.     Peace,  foldiers  !  they  are  refolute,  you  fee ; 
And  not  to  flatter  vs,  nor  fauour  them, 
Such  haughtie  flomacks  feldom  haue  been  feene 
Imbodied  in  the  breafls  of  Citizens. 
How  fternly  in  their  own  peculiar  ftrength, 
Without  the  affiftance  of  their  lingring  King, 
Did  they  of  late  repulfe  vs  from  their  walls  ! 
And  now  again  how  expeditioufly, 
And  vnexpecled,  they  haue  met  vs  here  ! 
Were  we  more  deadly  incenfd  than  we  are, 
I  would  not  but  commend  their  chiualry. 

Spi.      Captaine,  mall  we  goe  challenge  them  to 

fight? 

Sblood  !  we  burn  daylight ;  they  will  think,  anon, 
We  are  afraid  to  fee  their  glittering  fwords. 

Chub.     Tell  them,  they  come  inflead  of  pudding 

pies 
And  Stratford  cakes,  to  make's  a  banquet  here. 

Fal.     Soft ;    giue  me   leaue ;    I   will   deuife  with 

words 
To  weaken  and  abafh  their  fortitude. 

Rec.     The  baftard  offers  to  come  forth,  my  lord. 


28  The  firjl  part  of 

Maior.     I  am  the  man  intend  to  anfwer  him. 
Fal.     Crosby  \ 
Maior.     Traitor ! 

All.     Traitor  !  zounds,  down  with  him  ! 
Fal.     Be  patient :  giue  me  leaue,  I  fay,  to  fpeak. 
I  doubt  not  but  the  traitors  name  mail  reft 
With  thofe  that  keep  their  lawfull  King  in  bonds. 
Mean  time,  ye  men  of  London,  once  again 
Behold  my  warlike  colours  are  difplayed, 
Which  I  haue  vowed  mail  neuer  be  wrapt  vp 
Vntil  your  lofty  buildings  kiffe  our  feete, 
Vnlefs  you  grant  me  paffage  through  your  ftreetes. 
Rec.     Paffage,  faift  thou  ?     That  muft  be  ore    our 

brefts, 
If  any  paffage  thou  art  like  to  haue. 

Fal.     Why  then  vpon  your  bodies  will  I  treade, 
And  wade  through  {landing  pooles  of  your  loft  blood. 
Shore.     We  know  thy  threates,  and  reckon  them  as 

winde, 
Not  of  fufficient  power  to  make  a  reede. 

Spi.     But  we  fhook  your  gates  not  long  agoe, 
And  made  your  walls  to  make  like  Irifh  bogges. 

Chub.  I,  and  fo  terrified  ye,  that  not  one  of  ye 
durft  come  to  fetch  a  pint  of  facke  at  the  Mouth  at 
Bi/hopfgate ',  no,  not  for  your  hues. 

Jos.     I,  but  you   know    what  followed,   and   fo 

forth. 

Spi.  Et  cetera !  are  you  there  ?  methinkes,  the 
fight  of  the  dun  bull,  the  Neuilles  honoured  creft, 
mould  make  you  leaue  your  broken  fentences,  and 
quite  forget  euer  to  fpeake  at  all. 

Shore.     Nay,  then,  look  thou  upon  our  Cities  arms, 
Wherein  is  a  bloody  dagger  :  that  is  it, 
Wherewith  a  rebel  like  to  Falconbridge 
Had  his  defert,  meet  for  his  treachery. 
Can  you  behold  that,  and  not  quake  for  fear  ] 
Rec.     Since  when,  it  is  fucceffmely  decreed, 
Traitors  with  vs  mail  neuer  better  fpeed. 

Spi.     Captain e  and  fellow-foldiers,  talk  no  more, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  29 

But  draw  your  meaning  forth  in  downright  blows. 

Fal.     Sound  then  alarum. 

Maior.     Doe  the  like  for  vs, 
And  where  the  right  is,  there  attend  fuccefs  ! 

Jos.     Stay,  and  be  better  aduisd.     Why,  country 
men, 

What  is  this  Falconbridge  you  follow  fo  1 
I  could  inftruc~l  you ;  but  you  know  my  minde. 
And,  Falconbridge,  what  are  thefe  ruflicalls, 
Thou  fhouldft  repofe  fuch  confidence  in  glaife  ; 
Shall  I  informe  thee  1     No,  thou  art  wife  enough. 
Edward  of  York  delayes  the  time,  you  fay ; 
Therefore  he  will  not  come.     Imagine  fo. 
The  cities  weake.     Hold  that  opinion  ftill. 
And  your  pretence  King  Henrys  liberty. 
True  ;  but  as  how  1     Shall  I  declare  you  ?     No. 
What  then  ?  youle  fight.     A  Gods  name,  take  your 

choice. 
I  can  no  more  but  giue  you  my  aduice. 

Fal.  Away  with  this  parenthefis  of  words. 
Crosby,  courage  thy  men/  and  on  this  Greene 
Whofe  caufe  is  right,  let  it  be  quickly  feen. 

Maior.     I  am  ready  as  thou  canft  defire. 
On  then,  a  Gods  name  ! 

They  fight.     The  rebels  driue  them  back.     Then  enter 

Falconbridge  and  Spicing. 

1 
Fal.     This  was  well  fought.     Now,  Spicing,  lift  to 

me. 

The  citizens  thus  hauing  giuen  vs  ground, 
And  therefore  fomewhat  daunted,  take  a  band 
Of  Eflex  foldiers,  and  with  all  the  fpeed 
Thou  poffibly  canft  make,  withdraw  thyfelf, 
And  get  between  the  city  gates  and  them. 

Spi.     Oh  braue  Tom  Neuille,  gallant  Falconbridge, 
I  aim  at  thy  intended  policy  ; 
This  is  thy  meaning:  while  thou  art  employd 
And  holdft  them  battle  here  on  Mile-end  Greene, 


3<D  The  firft  part  of 

I  mufl  prouide,  as  harbinger  before, 
There  be  not  only  cleare  and  open  paffage, 
But  the  beft  merchants  houfes  to  receiue 
Vs  and  our  retinue.     I  am  proud  of  that, 
And  will  not  fleepe  vpon  thy  juft  command. 

Fal.     Away,  then  !  I  will  follow  as  I  may, 
And  doubt  not  but  that  ours  will  be  the  day. 

After  fome  excurfions,  enter  Lord  Maior  and  Mafter 
Shore. 

Maior.     We  haue  recouerd  what  before  we  loft, 
And  Heauen  ftands  with  the  juftice  of  our  caufe. 
But  this  I  noted  in  the  fight  euen  now, 
That  part  of  this  rebellious  crew  is  fent, 
By  what  direction,  or  for  what  intent, 
I  cannot  gueffe,  but  may  fufpec"!  the  worft ; 
And,  as  it  feemes,  they  compaffe  it  about 
To  hem  vs  in,  or  get  the  gate  of  vs  : 
And  therefore,  coufin  Shore,  as  I  repofe 
Truft  in  thy  valour  and  thy  loyalty, 
Draw  forth  three  hundred  bowmen  and  fome  pikes, 
And  prefently  encounter  their  affault. 

Shore.     1   haue   your  meaning;    and    effect,    my 

Lord, 
I  trufl  fhall  difappoint  them  of  their  hope.  Exit. 

After  an  alarum,  enter  Spicing,  with  a  Drum,  and 
certain  Soldiers. 

Spi.     Come  on  my  hearts,  we  will  be  kings    to 
night, 

Caroufe  in  gold,  and  fleep  with  merchants  wiues, 
While  their  poor  husbands  lofe  their  liues  abroad  : 
We  are  now  quite  behind  our  enemies  backs, 
And  theres  no  let  or  hindrance  in  the  way, 
But  we  may  take  poffeffion  of  the  town. 
Ah  you  mad  rogues,  this  is  the  wifhed  hour ; 
Follow  your  leader  and  be  refolute. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  3 1 

As  he  marches,  thinking  to  enter  Shore  and  his  Sol 
diers  iffue  forth   and  repulfe  him.     After  excur- 
fions,  wherein  the  Rebelsare  difperfed,  enter  Maior, 
Recorder,  Shore,  Joffelin,  and  a  Mejfenger  talking 
with  the  Maior. 

Maior.     I,  my  good  friend,  fo  certify  his  Grace, 
The  rebels  are  difperfed  all  and  fled, 
And  now  his  Highneffe  meetes  with  vic~lory. 

Exit  Meffenger. 

Marfhal  yourfelues,  and  keepe  in  good  array. 
To  add  more  glory  to  this  viclory, 
The  King  in  perfon  cometh  to  this  place. 
How  greate  an  honour  haue  you  gaind  to-day  ! 
And  how  much  is  this  City  famed  for  euer, 
That  twice,  without  the  help  either  of  King, 
Or  any  but  of  God  and  our  own  felues 
We  haue  preuail'd  againfl  our  countries  foes. 
Thankes  to  his  maiefty  affifled  vs, 
Who  always  helps  true  fubiecls  in  their  need  ! 

The  trumpets  found,  and  then  enters  King  Edward, 
Lord  Howard,  Sellinger,  and  the  train. 

King.     Where  is  my  Lord  Maior  ? 

Maior.     Here,  dread  Soueraign. 
I  hold  no  lordlhip  nor  no  dignity 
In  prefence  of  my  gracious  Lord  the  King. 
But  all  I  humble  at  your  Highneffe  feet, 
With  the  moft  happy  conqueft  of  proud  rebels, 
Difperfd  and  fled,  that  now  remaines  no  doubt 
Of  euer  making  head  to  vexe  vs  more. 

King.     You   haue   not   tane    the    baflard   Falcon- 
bridge, 
Or  is  he  flain  ? 

Maior.     Neither,  my  gracious  Lord. 
Although  we  labour'd  to  our  vttermofl, 
Yet  all  our  care  came  ouer-fhort 
For  apprehending  him  or  Spicing  either  ; 


32  The  firft  part  of 

But  fome  are  taken  \  others  on  profferd  grace 
Yielded  themfelues,  and  at  your  mercy  fland. 

King.     Thankes,   good    Lord  Maior.      You    may 

condemn  vs 
Of  too  much  flacknefs  in  fuch  vrgent  need ; 
But  we  afiure  you  on  our  royall  word, 
So  foon  as  we  had  gather' d  vs  a  power, 
We  dallied  not,  but  made  all  hafle  we  could. 
What  order  haue  ye  tane  for  Falconbridge 
And  his  confederates  in  this  rebellion  1 

Maior.     Vnder  your   leaue,    my  leige,    we 

proclaim' d 

Who  bringeth  Falconbridge,  aliue  or  dead, 
Shall  be  requited  with  a  thoufand  markes. 
As  much  for  Spicing.     Others  of  lefs  worth, 
At  eafier  rates  are  fet. 

King.     Well  haue  ye  done  ; 
And  we  will  fee  it  paid  from  our  Exchequer. 
Now  leaue  we  this  and  come  to  you, 
That  haue  fo  well  deferu'd  in  thefe  affaires, 
Affaires,  I  mean,  of  fo  maine  confequence. 
Kneel  down  and  all  of  you  receiue  in  field 
The  honour  you  haue  merited  in  field. 

Drawes  hisfword  and  knights  them. 
Arife  Sir  John  Crofebie,  Lord  Maior  of  London  and 

Knight. 

Arife  Sir  Ralfe  Joffeline  Knight. 
Arife  Sir  Thomas  Vrfewicke,  our  Recorder  of  London 

and  Knight. 
Now  tell  me  which  is  Matter  Shoare. 

Maior.     This  fame,  my  Lord, 
And  hand  to  hand  he  fought  with  Falconbridge. 

King.     Shoare,  kneel  thou  down.    What  call  ye  elfe 
his  name  ? 

Rec.     His  name  is  Mathew  Shoare,  my  Lord. 

King.     Shoare 

Why  kneelfl  thou  not,  and  at  thy  Soueraignes  hand 
Receiue  thy  right  ^ 

Shore.     Pardon  me,  gratious  lord, 
I  doe  not  ttarid  contemptuous,  or  defpifing 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  33 

Such  royall  fauor  of  my  Soueraign, 

But  to  acknowledge  mine  vnworthinefs. 

Farre  be  it  from  the  thought  of  Mathew  Shoare 

That  he  mould  be  aduanc'd  with  Aldermen, 

With  our  Lord  Maior,  and  our  right  graue  Recorder. 

If  any  thing  hath  been  performd  by  me, 

That  may  deferue  your  Highnes  meanfl  refpect, 

I  haue  enough,  and  I  defire  no  more ; 

Then  let  me  crane  that  I  may  haue  no  more. 

King.     Well,  be  it  as  thou  wilt ;  fome  other  way 
We  will  deuife  to  quittance  thy  deierts, 
And  not  to  faile  therein,  vpon  my  word. 
Now  let  me  tell  ye  all  my  friends  at  once, 
Your  King  is  married  fince  you  faw  him  lad, 
And  hafle  to  helpe  you  in  this  needfull  time 
Made  me  on  fudden  to  forlake  my  Bride. 
But  feeing  all  things  are  fallen  out  fo  well, 
And  there  remaines  no  further  doubt  of  ill, 
Let  me  entreate  you  would  go  boote  yourfelues, 
And  bring  your  King  a  little  on  his  way. 
How  fay  you,  my  Lord  ;  mall  it  be  fo  ? 

Ma.     Now  God  forbid  but  that  my  Lord  the  King 
Should  always  haue  his  fubiecls  at  command. 

Jof.     Forbid,  quotha  ?    I,  in  good  fadnefs  :  your 
maieftie  mall  finde  vs  alwaies  ready,  and  fo  forth. 

King.     Why,  then,  fet  forward,  Gentlemen  ; 
And  come,  L.  Maior,  I  muft  conferre  with  you. 

Exeunt. 

. 

Enter  Falconbridge  and  Spicing,  with  their  weapons 
in  their  hands. 

Spi.     Art   thou   the   man  whofe  victories  drawne 

at  fea 

Fild  euery  heart  with  terror  of  thy  name  ? . 
Art  thou  that  Neuill  whom  we  tooke  thee  for  *{ 
Thou  art  a  loufe,  thou  baliard  Falconbridge ; 
Thou  bafer  than  a  baftard,  in  whofe  birth 
The  very  dregs  of  feruitude  appeares. 


34  The  fir/I  part  of 

Why,  tell  me,  liuer  of  fome  rotten  fheepe, 
After,  by  thy  allurements,  we  are  brought 
To  vndertake  this  courfe,  after  thy  promifes 
Of  many  golden  mountaines  to  enfue, 
Is  this  the  greatefl  comfort  thou  canfl  giue  ? 
Haft  thou  enfnar'd  our  heedleffe  feet  with  death, 
And  brought  vs  to  the  libbet  of  defame, 
And  now  dofl  bid  vs  milt  and  faue  ourfelues  ! 
No,  crauen,  were  I  fure  I  mould  be  tane, 
I  would  not  flir  my  feete,  vntill  this  hand 
Had  venged  me  on  thee  for  mifguiding  us. 

FaL     Opprobrious  uillaine,  liable  excrement, 
That  neuer  dreamtft  of  other  manhood  yet, 
But  how  to  ierke  a  horfe,  vntill  my  words 
Infufd  into  thee  refolutions  fire. 
Controllft  thou  me  for  that  wherein  thyfelf 
Art  only  the  occafion  of  miihap  1 
Hadfl  thou  and  they  flood  to  it  as  well  as  I, 
The  day  had  bin  our  own,  and  London  now, 
That  laughes  in  triumph,  mould  haue  wept  in  teares. 
But,  being  backd  by  fuch  faint-hearted  flaues, 
No  maruel  if  the  Lion  go  to  wracke, 
As  though  it  were  not  incident  to  kings 
Sometime  to  take  repulfe  :  mine  is  no  more. 
Nor  is  it  for  that  muddy  braine  of  thine 
To  tutor  me  how  to  digefl  my  loffe, 
Then,  fly  with  thofe  that  are  already  fled, 
Or  ilay  behind,  and  hang  all  but  the  head. 

Spi.     Oh,  prejudice  to  Spitings  conqu'ring  name, 
Whofe  valour  eu'n  the  hackes  this  fworde  has  made 
Upon  the  flint  and  iron  bars  at  Aldgate, 
Like  mouths  will  publifh  whiles  the  City  Hands, 
That  I  fhrunk  backe,  that  I  was  neuer  feene 
To  mow  my  manly  fpleen  but  with  a  whip  ? 
I  tell  thee  Falconbridge,  the  leafl  of  thefe 
Doe  challenge  blood,  before  they  be  appeas'd. 

FaL     Away,  ye  fcoundrel !  tempt  not  my  refolue. 
The  courage  that  furuiues  in  Falconbridge 
Scornes  the  incounter  of  fo  bafe  a  drudge. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  35 

Spi.     By  the  pure  temper  of  this  fword  of  mine, 
By  this  true  flefh  and  blood  that  gripes  the  fame, 
And  by  the  honour  I  did  winne  of  late, 
Againft  thofe  froftie-bearded  citizens, 
It  mail  be  tride  before  we  do  depart, 
Whether  accufeth  other  wrongfully, 
Or  which  of  vs  two  is  the  better  man. 

Fal.     I  mall  but  quit  the  hangman  of  a  labour : 
Yet  rather  then  to  be  vpbraided  thus, 
The  Eagle  once  will  ftoop  to  feed  on  carion. 

Theyfight. 

Enter  Chub. 

Chub.  Hold,  if  ye  be  men  ;  if  not,  hold  as  ye  are, 
rebels  and  ftrong  theeues.  I  bring  ye  newes  of  a  pro 
clamation.  The  King  hath  promifed  that  whofoeuer 
can  bring  the  head  of  Falconbridge  or  Spicing,  mall 
haue  for  his  labour  a  thoufand  crowns.  What  meane 
you  then  to  fwagger  ?  Saue  yourfelues. 

Spi.     This  proclamation  comes  in  happy  time, 
lie  vanquifh  Palconbridge,  and  with  this  fword 
Cut  off  his  head  and  bear  it  to  the  King. 
So  not  alone  (hall  I  be  pardoned, 
But  haue  the  thoufand  crownes  is  promifed. 

Fal.     This  rafcal  was  ordaind  to  faue  my  life, 
For  now,  when  I  haue  ouerthrown  the  wretch, 
Euen  with  his  head  He  yield  me  to  the  King. 
His  princely  word  is  paft  to  pardon  me  ; 
And,  though  I  were  the  chief  in  this  rebellion, 
Yet  this  will  be  a  meanes  to  make  my  peace. 

Chub.     Oh,  that  I  knew  how  to  betray  them  both. 

Fal.     How  fay' ft   thou,  Spicing  ?    wilt  thou   yeeld 

thyfelH 

For  I  haue  vowd  either  aliue  or  dead 
To  bring  thee  to  King  Edward. 

Spi.     And  I  haue  vowd  the  like  by  thee  : 
How  will  thefe  two  bad  contraries  agree  ] 

D    2 


36  The  firft  part  of 

Chub.     And  I  the  fame  by  both  of  you. 

FaL     Come,  fir,  He  quickly  rid  you  of  that  care. 

Spi.     And  what  thou  lotted  me  (hall  be  thy  (hare. 

Chub.     Here  comes   a  Miller.     Help  to  part  the 

fray. 

Thefe  are  the  rebells  Falconbridge  and  Spicing. 
The  word  of  them  is  worth  a  thoufand  crowns. 

Mil.     Marry,  and  fuch  a  booty  would  I  haue. 
Submit,  fubmit ;  it  is  in  vaine  to  (Iriue.         Exit.  Fal. 

Spi.     Why,  what  art  thou  ? 

Mil.     One  that  will  hamper  you. 
But  whats  the  other  that  is  fled  away  ? 

Chub.     Oh,  miller,  that  was  Falconbridge, 
And  this  is  Spicing,  his  companion. 

Spi.     I    tell    thee,   miller,   thou    haft    beene   the 

meanes 

To  hinder  the  moft  charitable  deede 
That  euer  honed  Chridian  vndertooke. 

Chub.      Thou    cand    beare    me     witnefs,    I    had 

ta'en 
That  mod  notorious  rebell,  but  for  him. 

Mil.     But   I   haue  taken   thee  ;    and   the    world 

knowes 
That  Spicing  is  as  bad  as  who  is  bed. 

Spi.     Why,  thou  midaked  :  I  am  a  true  fubie6l. 

Chub.     Miller,  he  lies  :  be  fure  to  hold  him  fad. 

Spi.     Dod  thou  accufe  me  1  apprehend  him  too, 
For  hes  as  guilty  as  anie  of  vs. 

Mil.     Come,  you  (hall  both  together  anfwer  it, 
Before  my  Lord  Maior ;  and  here  he  comes. 

Enter  Lord  Maior,  Joffeline,  and  other  Attendants. 

Maior.  Sir  Ralph  Joffeline,  haue  you  euer  feen  a 
prince  more  affable  than  Edward  is  1  What  merry 
talk  he  had  vpon  the  way  ! 

Doubtlefs,    my   lord,   hele    proue    a    royal 
King. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  3  7 

But  how  now  ;  what  are  thefe  1 

Mil.     God  fane  your  honour  ! 
Here  I  prefent  vnto  you,  my  Lord  Maior, 
A  pair  of  rebels,  whom  I  did  efpy 
As  I  was  bufy  grinding  at  my  mill ; 
And  taking  them  for  vagrant  idle  knaues, 
That  had  befet  fome  true  man  from  his  houfe, 
I  came  to  keepe  the  peace  ;  but  afterward 
Found  that  it  was  the  baftard  Falconbridge 
And  this  his  mate,  together  by  the  ears. 
The  one,  for  all  that  I  could  do,  efcap'd ; 
The  other  flandeth  at  your  mercy  here. 

Maior.     It  is  the  rebel  Spicing. 

SpL     It  is  indeed  ; 
I  fee  you  are  not  blind  ;  you  know  me  then. 

Maior.     Well,  miller,    thou    haft   done  a  fubiec~ls 

part, 

And  worthily  deferuft  that  recompence 
Is  publickly  proclaimed  by  the  King. 
But  whats  this  other  ?     I  haue  feene  his  face  ; 
And,  as  I  take  it,  he  is  one  of  them. 

Mil.     I  muft  confefs,  I  took  them  both  together. 
He  aided  me  to  apprehend  the  reft. 

Chub.  A  tells  you  true,  my  lord.  I  am  Chub  the 
Chandler ;  and  I  curfe  the  time  that  euer  I  faw  t^ieir 
faces ;  for,  if  they  had  not  been,  I  had  liued  an  honeft 
man  in  mine  owne  country,  and  neuer  come  to  this. 

Spi.     Out,    rogue  !    doft    thou  recant  for  feare  of 

death  ? 

I,  Maior,  I  am  he  that  fought  to  cut  your  throat ; 
And  fmce  I  haue  mifcarried  in  the  fac~l, 
lie  ne'er  deny  it,  do  the  worft  you  can. 

Maior.  Bring  him  away.*  He  mall  haue  martiall  law, 
And,  at  the  next  tree  we  do  come  vnto, 
Be  hanged,  to  rid  the  world  of  fuch  a  wretch. 
Miller  thy  duty  is  a  thoufand  markes, 
Which  muft  be  fhar'd  betwixt  thee  and  this  poor  fel- 

lowe 
That  did  reueale  him.     And,  firrah,  your  life  is  fau'd 


38  The  fir/I  part  of 

On  this  condition,  that  you  hang  vp  Spicing. 
How  faift  thou  1  wilt  thou  do  it  1 

Chub.  Will  I  do  it  1  what  a  queftion  is  that !  I 
would  hang  him  if  he  were  my  father,  to  faue  mine 
owne  life. 

Maior.  Then,  when  ye  haue  done  it,  come  home 
to  my  houfe,  and  there  ye  truly  mall  haue  your 
reward. 

Spi.     Well,  firrah,  then    thou   mull   be  my  hang 
man  1 

Chub.  I  by  my  troth,  fir,  for  fault  of  a  better. 
Spi.  Well,  commend  me  to  little  Pirn,  and  pray 
her  to  redeeme  my  paund  hofe  :  they  lye  at  the  Blue 
Boare  for  eleuen  pence,  and  if  my  hofleffe  will  haue 
the  other  odd  penny,  tell  her  me  is  a  damned  bawd, 
and  there  is  no  trueth  in  her  fcore. 

Chub.  Take  no  thought,  fir,  for  your  paund  hofe. 
They  are  loufie,  and  not  worthe  redeeming. 

Spi.  There  is  a  conflable  flickes  in  my  mind  :  he 
got  my  fword  from  me,  that  night  I  mould  haue  killed 
black  Ralphe.  If  I  had  liued,  I  would  haue  been 
meet  with  him. 

Chub.  I,  fir ;  but  here's  a  thing  mail  take  an  order 
for  that. 

Spi.  Commend  me  to  blacke  Luce,  bouncing  Heft, 
and  lufty  Kate,  and  the  other  pretty  morfels  of  man's 
flefli.  Farewell,  pink  and  pinnace,  flibote  and  caruel, 
Turnbull  and  Spittal  \  I  die  like  a  man. 

Club.     Oh,  captain  Spicing  thy  vain  enticing 

Brought  me  from  my  trade, 
From   good   candles-making  to  this  pains 
taking, 

A  rebel  to  be  made. 
Therefore,  Ned  Spicing,  to  quit  thy  enticing, 

This  mufl  be  thy  hope  : 
By  one  of  thy  fellows  to  be  led  to  the  gal 
lows, 
To  end  in  a  rope.  Exeunt. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  39 

Enter  Hobs  the  Tanner  of  Tamworth. 

Hobs.  Dudgeon  !  doll  thou  heare  ?  looke  well  to 
Brock,  my  mare.  Driue  Dun  and  her  faire  and  foftly 
downe  the  hill  ;  and  take  heede  the  thornes  teare  not 
the  homes  of  my  cow-hides,  as  thou  goeft  neare  the 
hedges.  Ha,  what  faiefl  thou,  knaue  ?  Is  the  Bulls 
hide  downe  1  why,  lay  it  vp  again  ;  what  care  I  1  He 
meet  thee  at  the  flile,  and  help  to  fet  all  ftraite. 
And  yet,  God  help  !  its  a  crooked  world,  and  an  vn- 
thrifty ;  for  fome,  that  haue  ne'er  a  fhooe,  had  rather 
go  barefoot  than  buy  clout-leather  to  mend  the  old, 
when  they  can  buy  no  new  ;  for  they  haue  time  enough 
to  mend  all,  they  fit  fo  long  betweene  the  cup  and  the 
wall.  Well,  God  amend  them  !  God  amend  them  ! 
Let  me  fee,  by  my  executor  here,  my  leather  pouch, 
what  I  haue  taken,  what  I  haue  fpent,  what  I  haue 
gained,  what  I  haue  loft,  and  what  I  haue  laid  out. 
My  taking  is  more  than  my  fpending,  for  heeres  flore 
left.  I  haue  fpent  but  a  groat ;  a  penny  for  my  two 
iades,  a  penny  to  the  poor,  a  penny  pot  of  ale,  and  a 
penny  cake  for  my  man  and  me,  a  dicker  of  cow-hides 
coll  me. 

Heer  enter  the  Queene  and  Dutcheffe  with  their  riding 
rods,  unpinning  their  masses.    Hobs  goes  forward. 

'Snailes,  who  comes  here  ?  Miftrifs  Ferris,  or  Mif- 
tifs  What  call  ye  her  ]  Put  vp,  John  Hobs  :  money 
tempts  beauty. 

Dtitch.  Well  met,  good  fellow  :  fawft  thou  not  the 
hurt? 

Hobs.  My  heart  ?  God  blefs  me  from  feeing  my 
heart. 

Dutch.  Thy  heart  ?  the  deer,  man ;  we  demand 
the  deere. 

Hobs.  Do  you  demand  whats  deare  ?  Marry, 
come  and  cow-hides.  Mafs,  a  good  fnug  laffe,  well 


40  The  firft  part  of 

like  my  daughter  Nell.     I  had  rather  than  a  bend  of 
leather  fhee  and  I  might  fmouch  together. 

Dutch.     Cam'ft  thou  not  downe  the  wood  ? 

Hobs.     Yes,  miftrifs  ;  that  I  did. 

Dutch.     And  faweft  thou  not  the  deere  imboft  ? 

Hobs.  By  my  hood,  ye  make  me  laugh.  What  the 
dickens?  is  it  loue  that  makes  ye  prate  to  me  fo 
fondly?  By  my  fathers  foule,  I  would  I  had  jobd 
faces  with  you. 

Hunts.  Why,  how  now,  Hobs  ?  fo  faucy  with  the 
Dutchefle  and  the  Queene  1 

Hobs.  Much  Queene,  I  trowe  !  thefe  be  but  wo 
men  :  and  one  of  them  is  like  my  wench.  I  would 
fhe  had  her  rags.  I  would  giue  a  load  of  haire  and 
homes,  and  a  fat  of  leather,  to  match  her  to  fome  juftice, 
by  the  meg-holly. 

Hunt.  Be  filent,  Tanner,  and  aske  pardon  of  the 
Queene. 

Hobs.  And  ye  be  the  Queene,  I  cry  ye  mercy, 
good  Miflrefs  Queene. 

Queene.     No  fault,  my  friend.     Madam,  let's  take 

our  bows, 
And  in  the  Handing  feeke  to  get  a  moot. 

Dutch.     Come,  bend  our  bows,  and  bring  the  herd 
of  deer.  Exeunt. 

Hobs.     God   fend   you  good  {landing,    and  g( 
ftriking,  and  fat  flefh  !    See,  if  all  gentlewomen  be  not 
alike   when    their  blacke   faces   be    on !      I    took< 
the   Queene,  as   I    am    a   true    tanner,  for    miftrei 
Ferris. 

Enter  Sellenger  and  Howard  in  greene. 

Soft,  who  comes  here  ?  more  knaues  yet  ? 

Sel.     Ho,  good  fellow  faweft  thou  not  the  King? 

Hobs.  No,  good  fellow  I  faw  no  king,  Whi:h 
king  doft  thou  ask  for  ? 

Hoiv.  Why,  King  Edward.  What  king  is  there 
elfei 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  4 1 

Hobs.  There's  another  king,  and  ye  could  hit  on 
him ;  one  Harry,  one  Harry  ;  and,  by  our  Lady,  they 
fay  hees  the  honefler  man  of  the  two. 

Sel.     Sirrah,  beware  you  fpeake  not  treafon. 

Hobs.     What,  if  I  do  ? 

Sel.     Then  malt  thou  be  hanged. 

Hobs.  A  dogs  death  :  I'll  not  meddle  with  it ;  for, 
by  my  troth,  I  know  not  when  I  fpeak  treafon,  when 
I  do  not.  There's  fuch  halting  betwixt  two  kings, 
that  a  man  cannot  go  vpright,  but  he  (hall  offend 
t'one  of  them.  I  would  God  had  them  both,  for 
me. 

How.     Well,  thou  fawefl  not  the  King  ? 

Hobs.     No  ;  is  he  in  the  country  1 

How.     He's  hunting  here,  at  Drayton  Baffet. 

Hobs.  The  deuil  he  is?  God  bleffe  his  mafler- 
fhip  :  I  faw  a  woman  heere,  that  they  faid  was  the 
Queene.  She's  as  like  my  daughter,  but  my  daughter 
is  the  fairer,  as  euer  I  fee. 

Sel.     Farewell,  fellow  ;  fpeake  well  of  the  King. 

Exeunt. 

Hobs.  God  make  him  an  honed  man  !  I  hope 
thats  well  fpoken ;  for,  by  the  moufe-foot,  fome  giue 
him  hard  words,  whether  he  zerues  em  not.  Let  him 
look  to  that.  He  meddle  of  my  cow-hide,  and  let  the 
world  Hide. 

Enter  the  King  difguifed. 

The  deuil  in  a  dung-cart.  How  thefe  royflers  fwarme 
in  the  country,  now  the  King  is  fo  neare  !  God  'liuer 
me  .ilrom  this  ;  for  this  looks  like  a  theefe ;  but  a  man 
cannot  tell  amongd  thefe  court-nols  whofe  true. 

King.  Holla,  my  friend  !  good  fellow,  prithee, 
flay. 

Hobs.  No  fuch  matter.  I  haue  more  hafle  of  my 
way. 

King.  If  thou  be  a  good  fellow,  let  me  borrow  a 
word. 


42  The  fir/I  part  of 

Hobs.  My  purfe,  thou  meaneft.  I  am  no  good 
fellowe  ;  and  I  pray  God  thou  beeft  not  one. 

King.     Why  1  doft  thou  not  loue  a  good  fellow  ? 

Hobs.     No  :  good  fellowes  be  thieues. 

King.     Doft  thou  think  I  am  one  ? 

Hobs.  Thought  is  free ;  and  thou  art  not  my 
ghoftly  father. 

King.     I  mean  thee  no  harme. 

Hobs.  Who  knows  that  but  thyfelf?  I  pray  God 
he  fpie  not  my  purfe. 

King.     On  my  troth  I  meane  thee  none. 

Hobs.  Vpon  thy  oth  He  flay.  Now,  what  faifl 
thou  to  me  1  fpeak  quickly  ;  for  my  company  ftaies  for 
me  beneath,  at  the  next  ftile. 

King.  The  king  is  hunting  hereabouts.  Didft 
thou  fee  his  Maiefty  ? 

Hobs.  His  Maiefly  ?  what's  that  ?  his  horfe  or  his 
mare  ? 

King.     Turn  !     I  meane  his  Grace  ? 

Hobs.  Grace,  quotha?  pray  God  he  haue  anie. 
Which  king  doefl  thou  quire  for  ? 

King.  Why,  for  King  Edward.  Knoweft  thou  anie 
more  kings  then  one  ? 

Hobs.  I  know  not  fo  many ;  for  I  tell  thee  I  know 
none.  Marry,  I  hear  of  King  Edward. 

King.     Didft  thou  fee  his  Highneffe  ? 

Hobs.  By  my  holidame,  thats  the  befl  terme  thou 
gauefl  him  yet :  hes  hie  enough  ;  but  he  has  put 
poor  King  Harry  lowe  enough. 

King.     How  low  hath  he  put  him  ? 

Hobs.  Nay,  I  cannot  tell ;  but  he  has  put  him 
downe,  for  he  has  got  the  crowne ;  much  good  doot 
him  with  it. 

King.  Amen.  I  like  thy  talke  fo  well,  I  would  I 
knew  thy  name. 

Hobs.     Doft  thou  not  know  me  ? 

King.     No. 

Hobs.  Then  thou  knoweft  nobody.  Didft  neuer 
heare  of  John  Hobs,  the  Tanner  of  Tamworth  ? 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  43 

King.  Not  till  now,  I  promife  thee ;  but  now  I 
like  thee  well. 

Hobs.  So  do  not  I  thee.  I  feare  thou  art  fome 
outrider,  that  lines  by  taking  of  purfes  here,  on 
Baflets  Heath.  But  I  feare  thee  not,  for  I  haue  wared 
all  my  mony  in  cowhides  at  Coleshill  Market,  and  my 
man  and  my  mare  are  hard  by  at  the  hill-foote. 

King.  Is  that  thy  gray  mare,  thats  tied  at  the  ftile, 
with  the  hides  on  her  back  ? 

Hobs.  Thats  Brooke,  my  mare ;  and  theres  Dun 
my  nag,  and  Dudgeon,  my  man. 

King.  Theres  neither  man  nor  horfe  ;  but  onely 
one  mare. 

Hobs.  Gods  blue  budkin !  has  the  knaue  ferued 
me  fo  1  Farewell,  I  may  lofe  hides,  horns,  and  mare 
and  all,  by  prating  with  thee. 

King.  Tarry,  man,  tarry!  theile  fooner  take  my 
gelding  than  thy  grey  mare ;  for  I  haue  tied  mine  by 
her. 

Hobs.     That  will  I  fee,  afore  lie  take  your  word. 

King.     He  beare  thee  company. 

Hobs.     I  had  as  lieue  goe  alone.  Exeunt. 

Enter  the  two  Huntfmen  againe  with  the  bowes. 

1.  Hunt.     Now,  on  my  troth,  the  Queene  fhootes 
paffing  well. 

2.  Hunt.     So  did  the  Dutcheffe,  when  me  was  as 
young. 

1.  Hunt.     Age  fliakes  the  hand,  and  moots  both 
wide  and  fhort. 

2.  Hunt.     What  haue  they  giuen  vs  1 

1.  Hunt.     Six  rofe-nobles  juft. 

2.  Hunt.     The  Queen  gaue  foure. 

1.  Hunt.     True  j  and  the  Dutcheffe  twaine. 

2.  Hunt.     O,  were  we  euer  fo  paid  for  our  paine. 

i.  Hunt.     Tut  !  had  the  King  come,  as  they  faid 

he  would. 
He  would  haue  raind  vpon  vs  fhow'rs  of  gold. 


44  The  firft  part  of 

2.  Hunt.     Why,   he   is   hunting   fome where   here 
about. 
Let's  firft  go  drink  and  then  go  feek  him  out. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  King  Edward  againe  and  Hobs. 

K.  Ed.  Hay  faift  thou  tanner  1  wilt  thou  take  my 
courfer  for  thy  mare  ? 

Hobs.  Courfer,  callfl  thou  him  1  So  ill  mought  I 
fare,  thy  skittifli  jade  will  neuer  abide  to  carrie  my 
leather,  my  horns,  nor  hide.  But,  if  I  were  fo  mad 
to  fcore,  what  boote  wouldft  thou  giue  me  ? 

King.  Nay,  boote  thats  boot  worthy.  I  look  for 
boote  of  thee. 

Hobs.  Ha,  ha,  a  merry  jigge.  Why,  man,  Brocke, 
my  mare,  knowes  ha  and  ree,  and  will  ftand  when  I 
cry  ho,  and  let  me  get  vp  and  down,  and  make  water 
when  I  do. 

King.  I'll  giue  thee  a  noble,  if  I  like  her  pace. 
Lay  thy  cowhides  on  my  faddle,  and  let's  jog  towards 
Drayton. 

Hobs,  'Tis  out  of  my  way ;  but  I  begin  to  like 
thee  well. 

King.     Thou   wilt   like   me   better  before  we   do 

part. 
I  prithee  tell  me,  what  fay  they  of  the  King  ? 

Hobs.  Of  the  Kings,  thou  mean  eft.  Art  thou  no 
blabbe,  if  I  tell  thee  <\ 

King.  If  the  King  know't  not  now,  he  mall  neuer 
knowe  it  for  me. 

Hobs.  Mafs,  they  fay  King  Harriets  a  very  ad- 
vowtry  man. 

King.     A  deuout  man?     And  whats  King  Edward  1 

Hobs.  He's  a  frank  franion,  a  merry  companion, 
and  loues  a  wench  well.  They  fay  he  has  married  a 
poor  widow,  becaufe  fries  faire. 

King.     Doft  thou  like  him  the  worfe  for  that? 

Hobs.     No ;   by  my  feckins,  but  the  better ;    for 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  45 

though  I  be  a  plain  Tanner,  I  loue  a  faire  laffe  my- 
felf. 

King.  Prithee  tell  me,  how  loue  they  king  Ed 
ward  "I 

Hobs.  Faith,  as  poor  folks  loue  holidays,  glad  to 
haue  them  now  and  then  ;  but  to  haue  them  come  too 
often  will  vndoe  them.  So,  to  fee  the  King  now  and 
then  'tis  comfort  ;  but  euery  day  would  begger  vs  ; 
and  I  may  fay  to  thee,  we  feare  we  mail  be  troubled 
to  lend  him  money  ;  for  we  doubt  hees  but  needy. 

King.  Wouldft  thou  lend  him  no  money,  if  he 
mould  neede? 

Hobs.  By  my  halidome,  yes.  He  fhall  haue  half 
my  ftore  ;  and  He  fell  fole  leather  to  helpe  him  to 
more. 

King.  Faith,  whether  louefl  thou  better  Harry  or 
Edwardl 

Hobs.  Nay,  thats  counfel,  and  two  may  keepe  it, 
if  one  be  away. 

King.  Shall  I  fay  my  confcience  ?  I  think  Harry 
is  the  true  king. 

Hobs.  Art  aduifed  of  that  ?  Harrys  of  the  old 
houfe  of  Lancajler  ;  and  that  progenity  do  I  loue. 

King.      And   thou   doeft  not   hate   the   houfe   of 


Hobs.  Why,  no  ;  for  I  am  jufl  akin  to  Sutton 
Windmill  ;  I  can  grind  which  way  foe're  the  winde 
blow.  If  it  be  Harry,  I  can  fay,  Well  fare  Lancajler. 
If  it  be  EdTvard,  I  can  fing,  Yorke,  Yorke,  for  my 
mony. 

King.  Thou  art  of  my  mind  ;  but  I  fay  Harry  is 
the  lawful  king.  Edward  is  but  an  vfurper,  and  a 
fool,  and  a  coward. 

Hobs.  Nay,  there  thou  Heft.  He  has  wit  inough 
and  courage  inough.  Doft  thou  not  fpeake  treafon  ? 

King.     Ay,  but  I  know  to  whom  I  fpeake  it. 

Hobs.  Doft  thou  ?  Well,  if  I  were  conftable,  I 
mould  be  forfworn,  if  I  fet  thee  not  in  the  flockes  for 
it. 


46  The  firft  part  of 

King.  Well,  let  it  go  no  further ;  for  I  did  ferue 
King  Harry,  and  I  loue  him  beft,  though  now  I  ferue 
King  Edward. 

Hobs.  Thou  art  the  arranter  knaue  to  fpeake  ill 
of  thy  matter.  But  firrah,  whats  thy  name?  what 
office  haft  thou  1  and  what  will  the  King  do  for 
thee  ? 

King.  My  name  is  Ned.  I  am  the  Kings  butler  ; 
and  he  will  do  more  for  me  than  for  any  nobleman  in 
the  court. 

Hobs.  The  deuil  he  will  ?  he's  the  more  fool ;  and 
fo  I'll  tell  him,  if  ere  I  fee  him  ;  and  I  would  I  might 
fee  him  in  my  poor  houfe  at  Tamworth. 

King.  Go  with  me  to  the  Court,  and  He  bring 
thee  to  the  King ;  and  what  fuit  foe'er  thou  haue  to 
him,  I'll  warrant  thee  to  fpeed. 

Hobs.  I  ha  nothing  to  do  at  Court.  lie  home 
with  my  cowhides  :  and  if  the  King  will  come  to  me, 
he  mall  be  welcome. 

King.  Haft  thou  no  fuit  touching  thy  trade,  to 
tranfport  hides  or  fell  leather  onely  in  a  certain  circuit ; 
or  about  barke,  or  fuch  like,  to  haue  letters  patent  1 

Hobs.  By  the  mafs  and  the  matins,  I  like  not 
thofe  patents.  Sirrah,  they  that  haue  them  do,  as  the 
priefts  did  in  old  time,  buy  and  fell  the  finnes  of  the 
people.  So  they  make  the  King  belieue  they  mend 
whats  amiffe,  and  for  money  they  make  the  thing 
worfe  than  it  is.  Theres  another  thing  in  too,  the 
more  is  the  pity. 

King.     What  pity,  John  Hobs  ?     I  prithee  fay  all. 

Hobs.  Faith,  'tis  pity  that  one  fubiect  mould  haue 
in  his  hand  that  might  do  good  to  many  through  the 
land. 

King.  Sayft  thou  me  fo,  tanner  ?  Well,  let's  caft 
lots  whether  thou  fhalt  go  with  me  to  Dray  ton,  or  I 
go  home  with  thee  to  TamwortJi. 

Hobs.  Lot  me  no  lotting.  He  not  go  with  thee. 
If  thou  wilt  go  with  me,  caufe  thou  art  my  lieges 
man  (and  yet  I  think  he  has  many  honefter),  thou 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  47 

(halt  be  welcome  to  John  Hobs ;  thou  fhalt  be  wel 
come  to  beef  and  bacon,  and  perhaps  a  bag-pudding ; 
and  my  daughter  Nell  fhall  pop  a  poffet  vpon  thee, 
when  thou  goeil  to  bed. 

King.     Heeres  my  hand.     He  but  go  and  fee  the 
King  ferued,  and  He  be  at  home  as  foon  as  thyfelf. 

Hobs.     Doft  thou  heare  me,  Ned*[    If  I  (hall  be  thy 

hod, 

Make  hade  thou  art  bed,  for  fear  thou  kifs  the  poft. 

Exit  Hobs. 

King.      Farewell,    John    Hobs,    the    honed    true 

tanner ! 

I  fee  plain  men,  by  obferuation 
Of  things  that  alter  in  the  change  of  times, 
Do  gather  knowledge  ;  and  the  meaned  life 
Proportiond  with  content  fufficiency, 
Is  merrier  then  the  mighty  date  of  kinges. 

Enters  Howard  and  Sellenger. 

How  now  ?  what  newes  bring  ye,  firs  1     Wheres  the 
Queene  ? 

SeL     Her  Highneffe  and  your  Mother,  my  dread 

Lord, 

Are  both  inuited  by  Sir  Humfrey  Bowes, 
Where  they  intend  to  fead  and  lodge  this  night ; 
And  do  expec"t  your  graces  prefence  there. 

King.     Tom  Sellenger  I  haue  other  bufmeffe, 
Adray  from  you  and  all  my  other  traine. 
I  met  a  tanner,  fuch  a  merry  mate, 
So  frolicke  and  fo  full  of  good  conceite, 
That  I  haue  giuen  my  word  to  be  his  gued, 
Becau(e  he  knowes  me  not  to  be  the  King. 
Good  coufin  Howard,  grudge  not  at  the  iead, 
But  greete  my  mother  and  my  wife  from  me ; 
Bid  them  be  merry  :  I  mud  haue  my  humour ; 
Let  them  both  fuppe  and  (leepe  when  they  fee  time. 
Commend  me  kindly  to  Sir  Humfrey  Bowes  \ 
Tell  him  at  breakfad  I  will  vifit  him. 
This  night  Tom  Sellmger  and  I  mud  fead 


48  The  firft  part  of 

With  Hobs  the  tanner  :  there  plain  Ned  and  Tom 
No  King  nor  Sellenger  for  a  thoufand  pound. 

Enter  a  Meffenger,  booted,  with  letters,  and  kneeling 
giues  them  to  the  King. 

How.     The  Queene  and   Dutcheffe  will    be    dif- 

content, 
Becaufe  his  highnefs  comes  not  to  the  feaft. 

Sel.     Sir  Humfrey  Bowes  may  take  the  mofl  con- 

ceite ; 
But  whats  the  end  ?    the  King  will   haue  his  plea- 

fure. 
King.     Good  news,  my  boys,  Harry  the  Sixt  is 

dead. 
Perufe  that  letter.     Sirrah,  drink  you  that. 

Giues  his  purfe. 

And  flay  not ;  but  poft  back  againe  for  life, 
And  thanke  my  brother  Glojler  for  his  newes  : 
Commend  me  to  him ;  He  fee  him  to-morrowe  night. ' 
How  like  ye  it  firs  1 

Sel.     Oh,  pafling  well,  my  Liege ; 
You  may  be  merry  for  this  happy  news. 

King.     The  merrier  with  our  hoft  the  tanner,  Tom, 
My  lord,  take  you  that  letter  to  the  ladies ; 
Bid  them  be  merry  with  the  fecond  courfe ; 
And  if  we  fee  them  not  before  we  go, 
Pray  them  to  journey  eafily  after  vs  ; 
Weele  poft  to  London  :  fo  good  night,  my  lord. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Hobs  and  his  daughter  Nell. 

Hobs.  Come,  Nell,  come,  daughter.  Is  your  hands 
and  your  face  warned  1 

Nell.     I,  forfooth,  father. 

Hobs.  Yee  mufl  bee  cleanely,  I  tell  ye  ',  for  there 
conies  a  courtnol  hither  to-night,  the  Kings  mafler- 
fhips  butler,  Ned,  a  fpruce  youth ;  but  beware  ye  be 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  49 

not  in  loue  nor  ouertaken  by  him,  for  courtiers  be 
ilippery  lads. 

Nell.     No,  forfooth,  father. 

Hobs.  Gods  bleffmg  on  thee  !  That  half-yeares 
fchooling  at  Litchfield  was  better  to  thee  then  houfe 
and  land.  It  has  put  fuch  manners  into  thee — I 
forfooth,  and  No,  forfooth,  at  euery  word.  Ye  haue 
a  clean  fmock  on.  I  like  your  apparell  well.  Is 
fupper  ready  1 

Nell.     I,  forfooth,  father. 

Hobs.  Haue  we  a  good  barley  bag-pudding,  a  piece 
of  fat  bacon,  a  good  cow-heel,  a  hard  cheefe,  and  a 
brown  loaf? 

Nell.  All  this,  forfooth,  and  more.  Ye  mail  haue 
a  poflet ;  but  indeede  the  rats  haue  fpoiled  your  hard 
cheefe. 

Hobs.  Now,  the  deuil  choke  them  !  So  they  haue 
eat  me  a  farthing  candle  the  other  night. 

Dudgeon  (within).     What,  maifler,  maifler  ! 

Hobs.  How  now,  knaue  ?  what  fayft  thou,  Dud 
geon  1 

Dud.     Heres  guefls  come.     Wheres  Helen  1 

Hobs.     What  guefts  be  they  1 

Dad.  A  courtnol ;  one  Ned,  the  Kings  butcher,  he 
faies,  and  his  friends  too. 

Hobs.  Ned,  the  Kings  butcher  ?  Ha,  ha  !  the  Kings 
butler.  Take  their  horfes  and  walk  them,  and  bid 
them  come  near  houfe.  Nell,  lay  the  cloth,  and  clap 
fupper  o'  th'  boord.  Exit  Nell. 

Enter  King  Edward  and  Sellenger. 

Mafs,  heres  Ned,  indeed,  and  another  mifproud 
ruffian.  Welcome,  Ned,  I  like  thy  honefty;  thou 
keepeft  promife. 

King.  Ifaith,  honefl  tanner,  He  euer  keep  promife 
with  thee.  Prithee,  bid  my  friend  welcome. 

Hobs.     By  my  troth,  ye  are  both  welcome  to  Tarn- 
worth. 
Friend,  I  know  not  your  name. 

1  E 


50  The  fir/I  part  of 

Sel.     My  name  is  Tom  Twift. 

Hobs.  Belieue,  ye  that  lift.  But  ye  are  wel. 
come  both;  and  I  like  ye  both  well  .but  for  one 
thing. 

Sel.     Whats  that  ? 

Hobs.  Nay,  that  I  keepe  to  myfelfe  ;  for  I  figh 
to  fee  and  think  that  pride  brings  many  one  to  ex- 
truclion. 

King.     Prethee,  tell  vs  thy  meaning. 

Hobs.  Troth  I  doubt  ye  ne'er  came  truly  by  all 
thefe  gay  rags.  Tis  not  your  bare  wages  and  thin 
fees  ye  haue  of  the  King  can  keep  ye  thus  fine ;  but 
either  ye  muft  rob  the  King  priuily,  or  his  fubiecls 
openly,  to  maintain  your  probicalitie. 

Sel.     Thinkfl  thou  fo,  tanner  ? 

Hobs.  Tis  no  matter  what  I  think.  Come,  lets  go 
to  fupper.  What  Nell,  What  Dudgeon,  where  be  thefe 
folkes  ? 

Enter  Nell  and  Dudgeon,  with  a  table  covered. 

Daughter,  bid  my  friends  welcome. 

Nell.  Ye  are  welcome,  gentlemen,  as  I  may 
fay. 

Sel.     I  thank  ye,  faire  maide.  Kifs  her  both. 

King.     A  pretty  wench,  by  my  fay. 

Hobs.     How  likeft  her,  Nedl 

King.  I  like  her  fo  well,  I  would  ye  would  make 
mee  your  fon  in  law. 

Hobs.  And  I  like  thee  fo  well,  Ned,  that,  hadfl 
thou  an  occupation  (for  feruice  is  no  heritage  :  a 
young  courtier,  an  old  beggar),  I  could  find  in  my 
heart  to  caft  her  away  vpon  thee ;  and  if  thou  wilt 
forfake  the  court  and  turn  tanner,  or  bind  thyfelfe  to 
a  fhoomaker  in  Liechfield,  ile.giue  thee  twenty  nobles 
ready  money  with  my  Nell,  and  truft  thee  with  a 
dicker  of  leather  to  fet  vp  thy  trade. 

Sel.  Ned,  he  offers  ye  fair,  if  ye  haue  the  grace  to 
take  it. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  5 1 

King.  He  does,  indeed,  Tom  \  and  hereafter  I'le 
tell  him  more. 

Hobs.  Come,  fit  down  to  fupper  :  go  to,  Nell :  no 
more  fheep's  eyes  :  ye  may  be  caught,  I  tell  ye  :  thefe 
be  liquorim  lads. 

Nell.  I  warrant  ye,  father ;  yet  in  truth  Ned  is  a 
very  proper  man,  and  t'other  may  feme  j  but  Ned's  a 
pearl  in  mine  eye. 

Hobs.  Daughter,  call  Dudgeon  and  his  fellows. 
Weele  haue  a  three-men  fong,  to  make  our  guefts 
merry.  Exit  Nell. 

Nailes,  what  courtriols  are  ye  ?  yeele  neither  talk  nor 
eate. 
What  newes  at  the  court  ?  Do  fomewhat  for  yourmeate. 

King.     Heauie  newes  there  :  King  Henry  is  dead. 

Hobs.  That's  light  news  and  merry  for  your  mailer, 
King  Edward. 

King.     But  how  will  the  Commons  take  it  1 

Hobs.     Well,  God  be  with  good  King  Henry. 
Faith,  the  Commons  will  take  it  as  a  common  thing. 
Death's  an  honeft  man  ;  for  he  fpares  not  the  King. 
For  as  one  comes,  anothers  tane  away  ; 
And  feldom  comes  the  better,  thats  all  we  fay. 

Sel.     Shrewdly  fpoken,  tanner,  by  my  fay  ! 

Hobs.     Come,  fill  me  a   cup  of  mother  Whet/lones 

ale; 

I  may  drinke  to  my  friends  and  driue  down  my  tale. 
Here,   Ned  and    Tom,  I  drink  to  ye  ;  and  yet,  if  I 
come  to  the  court,  I  doubt  youle  not  know  me. 

King.  Yes,  Tom  mall  be  my  furety,  tanner  ;  I  will 
know  thee. 

Sel.  If  thou  doll  not,  Ned,  by  my  troth,  I  befhrew 
thee. 

King.     I  drinke  to  thy  wife  that  may  be. 

Sel.  Faith  Ned,  thou  maieft  hue  to  make  her  a 
lady. 

King.  Turn,  her  father  offers  nothing,  hairing  no 
more  children  but  her. 

Hobs.     I  would  I  had  not,  condition  (he  had  all. 

E    2 


5  2  The  fir  ft  part  of 

Bat  I  haue  a  knaue  to  my  fon  ;  I  remember  him  by 
you ;  euen  fuch  an  vnthrift  as  one  of  you  two,  that 
fpends  all  on  gay  clothes  and  new  fafhions  ;  and  no 
work  will  down  with  him,  that  I  fear  hele  be  hanged. 
God  blefs  you  from  a  better  fortune,  yet  you  wear  fuch 
filthy  breeks.  Lord,  were  not  this  a  good  falhion  ? 
I,  and  would  faue  many  a  fair  penny. 

King.     Let  that  pafs,  and  let  vs  heare  your  fong. 

Hobs.  Agreed,  agreed !  Come,  fol,  fol,  fol,  fa,  fa, 
fa  !  Say,  Dudgeon. 

Here  they  fing  the  three  mans  Song. 

Agencourt,  Agencourt  \  know  ye  not  Agencourt  ? 
Where  the  Englijhflew  and  hurt 

All  the  French  foemen : 
With  our  Guns  and  bills  brown, 
O,  the  French  were  beaten  downe, 
Morris-pikes  and  bowmen. 

Sel.  Well  fung,  good  fellowes  !  I  would  the  King 
heard  ye. 

Hobs.  So  mould  I,  faith  ;  I  mould  flrain  a  note  for 
him.  Come,  take  away,  and  let's  to  bed.  Ye  (hall 
haue  clean  fheetes,  Ned ;  but  they  be  coarfe,  good 
flrong  hemp,  of  my  daughters  own  fpinning ;  and  I 
tell  thee,  your  chamber-pot  mufl  be  a  fair  home,  a 
badge  of  our  occupation;  for  we  buy  no  bending 
pewter,  nor  breaking  earth. 

King.     No  matter,  Hobs ;  we  will  not  go  to  bed. 

Hobs.     What  then  ? 

King.     Even  what  thou  wilt ;  for  it  is  near  day. 
Tanner,  gramercies  for  our  hearty  cheere  ! 
If  ere  it  be  thy  chance  to  come  to  court, 
Enquire  for  me,  Ned,  the  Kings  butler, 
Or  Tom,  of  the  Kings  chamber,  my  companion, 
And  fee  what  welcome  we  will  giue  thee  there. 

Hobs.  I  haue  heard  of  com  tiers  haue  faid  as  much 
as  you,  and  when  they  haue  been  tride,  would  not  bid 
their  friends  drinke. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  53 

Sel.  We  are  none  fuch.  Let  our  horfes  be 
brought  out ;  for  we  mufl  away ;  and  fo,  with  thankes, 
farewell ! 

Hobs.  Farewell  to  ye  both.  Commend  me  to  the 
King  ;  and  tell  him  I  would  haue  been  glad  to  haue 
feene  his  worfliip  heere.  Exit. 

King.  Come,  Tom,  for  London  !  horfe,  and  hence, 
away  ! 

Enter  Vice-Admiral,  and  the  Captain  of  the  lie  of 
Wight,  with  Falconbridge  bound,  the  Headfman 
bearing  the  axe  before  him. 

Mor.     Thomas  Neuill,  yet  haft  thou  gracious  time 
Of  deare  repentance.     Now  difcharge  thy  confcience  ; 
Lay  open  thine  offences  to  the  world, 
That  we  may  witneffe  thou  doft  die  a  Chriflian. 

Fal.     Why,  Sir  Harry  Morton,  haue  you  arraigned, 
Condemn'd,  and  brought  me  to  this  place 
Of  bloody  execution,  and  now  aske 
If  I  be  guilty  ?     Therein  doth  appeare 
What  juflice  you  haue  vfde.     Call  you  this  law  ? 

Cap.     Thou    doft    miftake    our    meaning,   Falcon- 
bridge 

We  do  not  aske  as  being  ignorant 
Of  thy  tranfgreffion,  but  as  vrging  thee 
To  hearty  forrow  for  thy  vile  mifdeedes, 
That  Heauen  may  take  companion  on  thy  foule. 

Fal.     How  charitable  you  would  feeme  to  be  ! 
I  feare  anon  youle  fay  it  is  for  loue 
You  binde  me  thus,  and  bring  me  to  the  block, 
And  that  of  meere  affection  you  are  mou'd 
To  cut  my  head  off.     Cunning  policy 
Such  butchers  as  yourfelues  neuer  want 
A  colour  to  excufe  your  flaughterous  mind. 

Mor.     We  butcher  thee  ?  and  thou  deny  thyfelfe 
But  thou  haft  been  a  pirate  on  the  fea  ? 
Canft  thou  deny  but  with  the  communal  tie 
Of  Kent  and  Effex,  thou  didft  rife  in  arms, 


54  The  fir/I  part  of 

And  twice  affault  the  city  London,  where 

Thou  twice  didft  take  repulfe  ?  and,  fmce  that  time, 

Canft  thou  deny  that,  being  fled  from  hence, 

Thou  joinedft  in  confederacy  with  France, 

And  camft  with  them  to  burne  Southampton  here  ? 

Are  thefe  no  faults,  thou  fhouldft  fo  much  prefume 

To  cleare  thyfelfe,  and  lay  thy  blood  on  vs  1 

FaL     Hear  me,  Sir  Harry,  fmce  we  mud  difpute  ! 
Capt.     Difpute  !    Vnciuil  wretch,  what  needs  dif 
pute? 

Did  not  the  Vice  Admirall  heere  and  I, 
En  count' ring  with  the  nauy  of  the  French, 
Attach  thee  in  a  fhip  of  Normandie, 
And  wilt  thou  Hand  upon  thine  innocence  ? 
Defpatch,  thou  art  as  rightfully  condemnde 
As  euer  rebel  was.     And  thou  malt  die. 

FaL     I  make  no  queftion  of  it,  I  muft  die  ; 
But  let  me  telle  you  how  I  fcorne  your  threats. 
So  little  do  I  reckon  of  the  name 
Of  vgly  Death,  as,  were  he  vifible, 
Ide  wreftle  with  him  for  the  victory, 
And  tug  the  ilaue,  and  teare  him  with  my  teeth, 
But  I  would  make  him  floope  to  Falconbridge ; 
And  for  this  life,  this  paltry  brittle  life, 
This  blaft  of  winde,  which  you  haue  labour'd  fo, 
By  iuries,  feffions,  and  I  know  not  what, 
To  robbe  me  of,  is  of  fo  vile  repute, 
That,  to  obtain e  that  I  might  Hue  mine  age, 
I  would  not  giue  the  value  of  a  point. 
You  cannot  be  fo  cruel  to  afflict, 
But  I  will  be  as  forward  to  indure. 

Mor.     Go  to,  leaue  off  thefe  idle  braues  of  thine, 
And  think  vpon  thy  foul's  health,  Falconbridge. 

Capt.     Submit,  and  ask  forgiuenefs  of  thy  King. 

FaL     What  king  1 

Mor.     Why  Edward,  of  the  houfe  of  Yorke. 

FaL     He  is  no  king  of  mine.     He  does  vfurp  ; 
And,  if  the  deflinies  had  giuen  me  leaue, 
I  would  haue  told  him  fo  before  this  time, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  5  5 

And  pull'd  the  diadem  from  off  his  head. 

Mor.     Thou  art  a  traitor.    Stop  thy  traitor's  mouth. 
Fal.     I  am  no  traitor  :  Lancafter  is  King. 
If  that  be  treafon  to  defend  his  right. 
What  ift  for  them  that  do  imprifon  him  1 
If  infurredlion  to  aduance  his  fceptre, 
What  fault  is  theirs  that  ftep  into  his  throne  1 
Oh,  God,  thou  pourdft  the  balm  vpon  his  head ; 
Can  that  pure  vn6lion  be  wipt  off  again  1 
Thou  once  didft  crown  him  in  his  infancy  ; 
Shall  wicked  men  now  in  his  age  depofe  him  1 
Oh,  pardon  me,  if  I  expoftulate 
More  than  becomes  a  fmfull  man  to  do 
England  I  fear  thou  wilt  thy  folly  rue. 

Capt.     Thou  triflefl  time,  and  dofl  but  weary  vs 
With  dilatory  queflions.     Make  an  end. 

Fal.     Indeed,  the  end  of  all  kingdoms  mufl  end  ; 
Honour  and  riches  all  mufl  haue  an  end  ; 
Aid  he  that  thinks  he  doth  the  mofl  preuaile, 
Hs  head  once  laid,  there  refteth  but  a  tale. 
Ccme,  fellow,  do  thy  office.     What,  methinkes, 
Trou  lookft  as  if  thy  heart  were  in  thy  hofe. 
Pu!  vp  thy  fpirits;  it  will  be  quickly  done  ; 
A  blow  or  two  at  mofl  will  feme  the  turne. 
Eead.     Forgiue  me,  fir,  your  death. 
fd.     Forgiue  thee  ?     I,  and  giue  thee,  too. 
Hold ;  there  is  fome  few  crowns  for  thee  to  drinke. 
Turn !  weepe  not,  man  :  giue  lofers  leaue  to  plaine  : 
And  jet,  ifaith,  my  loffe  I  count  a  gaine. 
Firfl,  let  me  fee,  is  thy  axe  fharpe  inough  1 
1  am  ndifferent.     Well,  a  Gods  name,  to  this  geare. 
Heed.  '  Come,  and  yield  your  head  gently  to  the 

bocke. 

Fal.    Gently,  faiefl  thou ;  thou  wilt  not  vfe  me  fo. 
But  all  is  one  for  that.     What  flrength  thou  haft, 
Throughout  the  whole  proportion  of  thy  limbs, 
Reuoke  it  all  into  thy  manly  arms, 
And  fpire  me  not.     I  am  a  gentleman, 
A  Netutle,  and  a  Falconbridge  befide  : 


56  The  fir fl  part  of 

Then  do  thy  work  :  thou  mayft  get  credit  by  it ; 
For,  if  thou  doft  not,  I  muft  tell  thee  plain, 
I  mall  be  pafling  angry  when  tis  done. 

Head.     I  warrant  you,  fir  :  none  in  the  land  lhall 
do  it  better. 

Fal.     Why,  now  thou  pleafeft  me.     England,  fare 
well ! 

And,  old  Plantagenet,  if  thou  furuiue, 
Think  on  my  loue,  although  it  did  not  thriue. 

He  is  led  forth. 

Mor.     As  for  his  head,  it  mail  be  fent  with  fpeed 
To  London,  and  the  promifed  reward 
Alloted  for  the  apprehending  him, 
Be  giuen  vnto  the  poore  of  Southampton  here. 
How  fay  you  captaine ;  are  you  fo  content  1 

Copt.     With  all  my  heart ;  but  I  do  maruel  much 
We  heare  not  of  the  meffenger  we  fent, 
To  giue  the  King  intelligence  of  this. 

Mor.     Take  truce  with  your   furmifes.      Here  hs 
comes. 

Enter  a  Meffenger. 

Fellow,  it  feems  that  thou  art  flow  of  gate, 

Or  very  negligent  in  our  affairs. 

What  fays  King  Edward  to  our  feruice  done  ? 

Mef.     To  anfwer  you  directly  and  as  briefly, 
I  fpoke  not  with  him  ;  for  when  I  was  come 
To  Drayton  Bafjet,  where  they  faid  he  was, 
Twas  told  me  there,  that  eu'n  the  night  before, 
His  Highneffe  in  all  hafte  was  rid  to  London, 
The  occafion,  Henrys  death  within  the  Tower, 
Of  which  the  people  are  in  fundry  tales, 
Some  thinking  he  was  murderd,  fome  again 
Suppofmg  that  he  died  a  natural  death. 

Mor.     Well,  howfoeuer  that  concerns  not  vs. 
We  haue  to  do  with  no  mans  death  but  his, 
That  for  his  treafon  here  hath  loft  his  head. 
Come,  let  vs  giue  direction  as  before^ 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  57 

And  afterward  make  back  vnto  the  more.         Exeunt. 

Enter  the  Lord  Maior,  in  his  fear  let  gown,  with  a 
guilded  rapier  by  his  fide. 

Mair.     I  marie,  Crosbie  this  befits  thee  well. 
But  fome  will  maruel  that,  that  with  fcarlet  gowne, 
I  weare  a  guilded  rapier  by  my  fide  : 
Why  let  them  know,  I  was  knighted  in  the  field 
For  my  good  feruice  to  my  Lord  the  King ; 
And  therefore  I  may  wear  it  lawfully 
In  court,  in  city,  or  at  any  royal  banquet 
But  foft  John  Crosbie  thou  forgetfl  thyfelf, 
And  doft  not  mind  thy  birth  and  parentage  ; 
Where  thou  waft  born,  and  whence  thou  art  deriued. 
I  do  not  mame  to  fay  the  Hofpital 
Of  London  was  my  chiefefl  foflring  place  : 
There  did  I  learn  that,  near  vnto  the  Grope, 
Commonly  calld  Cow  Crof/e  neare  I 
An  honeft  citizen  did  chance  to  find  me 
A  poor  fhoomaker  by  trade  he  was, 
And  doubting  of  my  chriftendom  or  no, 
Calld  me  according  to  the  place  he  found  me, 
John  Crosbie,  finding  me  fo  by  a  croffe. 
The  Maifters  of  the  Hofpital,  at  further  yeares, 
Bound  me  apprentice  to  the  Grocer's  trade, 
Wherein  God  pleafd  to  blefs  my  poor  endeauours, 
That,  by  his  bleffing,  I  am  come  to  this. 
The  man  that  found  me  I  haue  well  requited, 
And  to  the  Hofpital,  my  foftering  place, 
An  hundred  pound  a  yeare  I  giue  for  euer. 
Likewife,  in  memory  of  me,  John  Crosbie, 
In  Bi/hopfgate  Street,  a  poor  Houfe  haue  I  built, 
And  as  my  name  haue  calld  it  Crosbie  Houfe. 
And  when  as  God  mall  take  me  from  this  life, 
In  little  S.  Helens  will  I  be  buried. 
All  this  declares  I  boaft  not  of  my  birth ; 
But  found  on  earth,  I  mr.ft  returne  to  earth. 
But  God,  for  his  pitty  !    .  forget  myfelf  : 


-S  The  firft  part  of 

The  King,  my  foneraign  lorde,  will  come  anon, 

And  nothing  is  as  yet  in  readinefle. 

Where  are  ye,  confin  Shore  \  nay,  where  is  miftrifle 

Shore\ 

Oh,  I  am  forry  that  (he  flaies  fo  long ! 
See  what  it  is  to  be  a  widdower, 
And  lack  a  lady  Maioreffe  in  fnch  neede  ! 

Enter  M.  Shore  and  Miftreffe  Shore. 

Oh,  are  ye  come  \    Welcome,  good  coufin  Shore  \ 
But  yon  indeed  are  welcome,  gentle  neke ! 
Needs  muft  you  be  our  lady  Maioreffe  now, 
Andhelpe  vs ;  or  ehe  we  are  fham'd  for  euer. 
Good  coufin,  ftfll  thus  am  I  bold  with  you. 

Shore.    Wish  afl  my  heart,  my  lord,  and  thank 

too, 
That  you  do  pleafe  to  vfe  our  homely  help. 

Mawr.     Why,  fee  bow  oealely  fhe  beflii^  herfdt, 
And,  in  good  forth,  makes  hufwifery  to  mine ! 
Ah,  had  my  lady  Maiorels  Had  to  fee 
Fan-  Miftrifie  Shore  thus  beautify  her  houfe. 
She  would  haue  been  not  little  proud  thereot 

Jane.     Wen,  my  lord  Maior,  I  thank  you  for  that 

flout: 

But  let  his  highnefle  now  come  when  he  pieafe, 
All  things  are  in  a  perfect  readinefle. 

TkqbriMsf^atabl^axdfaTxintJubaapuL 

Maur.    The  more  am  I  beholding,  niece,  to  you, 
••"Itat-  tat-^  inch  r*"nf«s  to  fem^  our  credit  now. 
My  feruants  are  fo  flacke,  his  Maiefbe 
Methane  rjeen  here  before  we  were  preparde. 

Ji  _1 1   1!  ^  —  I  »     _~-»r^r    I~  "'  »  5   -~.  1 S   JI'-^JIHZ— C- 


±  -:s  ±r:.~T^  f*mi*  2~. 

Howard,  Seffinger,  and  the 

King.     Now,  my  lord  Maior,  bane  we  not  kept  our 
word? 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  5  9 

Becaufe  we  could  not  flay  to  dine  with  you, 

At  our  departure  hence,  we  promifed, 

Firft  food  we  tafted  at  our  backe  returne 

Should  be  with  you  ;  flill  yielding  hearty  thankes 

To  you  and  all  our  London  citizens, 

For  the  great  feruice  which  you  did  perform 

Againft  that  bold-facd  rebel,  Falconbridge. 

Maior.     My  gratious  lord,  what  then  we  did, 
We  did  account  no  more  than  was  our  duty, 
Thereto  obliged  by  true  fubiecfls  zeal  \ 
And  may  he  neuer  Hue  that  not  defends 
The  honour  of  his  King  and  Country  ! 
Next  thanke  I  God,  it  likes  your  maieflie 
To  blefTe  my  poore  roof  with  your  royal  prefence. 
To  me  could  come  no  greater  happinefs. 

King.     Thanks,  good  lord  Maior  ;  but  wheres  my 

lady  Maioreffe ; 
I  hope  that  me  will  bid  vs  welcome,  too. 

Maior.     She   would  my  liege   and   with  no  little 

ioy, 

Had  fhe  but  liu'd  to  fee  this  blefled  day ; 
But  in  her  flead  this  gentlewoman  here, 
My  coufms  wife,  that  office  will  fupplie. 
How  fay  you  Miflriffe  Shore  1 

Ki?ig.     How  !  Miflriffe  Shore,  what,  not  his  wife 
That  did  refufe  his  knighthood  at  our  hand  ? 

Maior.     The  very  lame,  my  lord ;  and  here  he  is. 

King.     What,    mafler   Shore,    we  are  your  debtor 

flill; 

But,  by  Gods  grace,  intend  not  fo  to  die ; 
And,  gentlewoman,  now  before  your  face, 
I  muft  condemne  him  of  difcourtefy ; 
Yea,  and  of  great  wrong  that  he  hath  offerd  you ; 
For  you  had  beene  a  Lady  but  for  him. 
He  was  in  fault ;  trull  me,  he  was  to  blame, 
To  hinder  vertue  of  her  due  by  right. 

Jane.     My  gratious  Lord,  my  poor  and  humble 

thoughts 
Nere  had  an  eye  to  fuch  vnworthinefle  ; 


60  The  fir/I  part  of 

And  though  fome  hold  it  as  a  maxim, 
That  womens  minds  by  nature  do  afpire, 
Yet  how,  both  God  and  Mailer  Shore,  I  thank 
For  my  continuance  in  this  humble  ftate, 
And  likewife  how  I  loue  your  maieftie 
For  gratious  fufferance  that  it  may  be  fo, 
Heauen  beare  true  record  of  my  inward  foule : 
Now  it  remaines,  on  my  lord  Maiors  behalf, 
I  do  fuch  duty  as  becometh  me, 
To  bid  your  highnefs  welcome  to  his  houfe. 
Were  welcomes  vertue  powerful  in  my  word, 
The  King  of  England  mould  not  doubt  thereof. 

King.     Nor  do  I,  Miflriffe  Shore.     Now  my  lord 

Maior, 

Edward  dare  boldly  fweare  that  he  is  welcome. 
You  fpake  the  word  well,  very  well,  ifaith  : 
But  Miftriffe  Shore  her  tongue  hath  gilded  it. 
Tell  me,  coufin  Howard,  and  Tom  Sellinger, 
Had  euer  citizen  fo  faire  a  wife  ? 

How.     Of  flefh  and  bloud  I  neuer  did  behold 
A  woman  euery  way  fo  abfolute. 

Sel.     Nor  I,  my  liege.     Were  Sellinger  a  King, 
He  could  afford  Shores  wife  to  be  a  queene. 

King.     Why,   how  now,   Tom  ?     Nay,  rather,  how 

now,  Nedl 

What  change  is  this  1  proud,  faucy,  rouing  eye, 
What  whifperfl  in  my  braine  that  me  is  faire  1 
I  know  it,  I  fee  it :  fairer  than  my  Queene  1 
Wilt  thou  maintaine  it  1    What,  and  thou  traitor  heart, 
Wouldfl  thou  fhake  hands  in  this  confpiracy  1 
Down,  rebel ;  back,  bafe,  trecherous  conceit ; 
I  will  not  credit  thee.     My  Beffe  is  fair, 
And  Shores  wife  but  a  blowze,  compared  to  her. 
Come,  let  vs  fit ;  here  will  I  take  my  place. 
And,  my  lord  Maior,  fill  me  a  bowl  of  wine, 
That  I  may  drink  to  your  elecled  Maioreffe  ; 
And  mafler  Shore,  tell  me  how  like  you  this  1 
My  lord  Maior  makes  your  wife  his  lady  Maiorefle. 

Shore.     So  well,  my  lord,  as  better  cannot  be, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  6 1 

All  in  the  honor  of  your  maiefly. 

The  Lord  Maior  brings  a  bowle  of  wine,  and  humbly 

on  his  knees  offers  it  to  the  King. 
King.     Nay,  drinke  to  vs,  Lord  Maior ;  wele  haue 

itfo. 

Go  to,  I  fay ;  you  are  our  tafler  now. 
Drink,  then,  and  we  will  pledge  ye. 

Maior.     All  health  and  happinefs  to  my  foueraign  ! 

hee  drinkes. 

King.     Fill  full  our  cup  ;  and,  lady  Maioreife, 
This  full  caroufe  we  mean  to  drinke  to  you  ; 
And  you  mull  pledge  vs ;  but  yet  no  more 
Than  you  mail  pleafe  to  anfwer  vs  withall. 

He  drinkes,  and  the  trumpets  found.     Then  wine  is 

brought  to  her,  andflie  offers  to  drink. 
Nay,  you  muft  drink  to  fome  body ;  yea  Tom 
To  thee  !     Well,  firrah,  fee  you  do  her  right. 
For  Edward  would  :  oh,  would  to  God  he  might ! 
Yet,  idle  eye,  wilt  thou  be  gadding  flill  ? 
Keep  home,  keep  home,  for  feare  of  further  ill. 

Enter  a  Meffenger,  with  letters. 

How  now  ?     Letters  to  us,  From  whom  ? 

Mef.     My  liege,  this  from  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
And  this  is  from  the  Conflable  of  France. 

King.     What  newes  from  them  ? 

He  opens  the  letter  and  reades. 
To  claim  our  right  in  France ; 
And  they  will  aide  vs.     Yea,  will  ye  fo  ? 
But  other  aide  muft  aide  vs,  ere  we  goe. 

Hefeems  to  read  the  letters,  but  glances  on 

Mijlrejje  Shore  in  his  reading. 
A  womans  aid,  that  hath  more  power  than  France 
To  crown e  vs,  or  to  kill  vs  with  mifchance. 
If  chaft  refolue  be  to  fuch  beauty  tide, 
Sue  how  thou  canfl,  thou  wilt  be  flill  denide. 
Her  husband  hath  deferued  well  of  thee  : 
Tut,  lone  makes  no  refpecl,  where'er  it  be. 
Thou  wrongfl  the  Queene  :  euery  inforced  ill 


62  The  firft  part  of 

Muft  be  endurd,  where  beauty  feekes  to  kill. 
Thou  feemft  to  read,  only  to  blinde  their  eyes, 
Who,  knowing  it,  thy  folly  would  difpife. 

Heftarts  from  the  table. 

Thanks  for  my  cheere,  Lord  Maior  !  I  am  not  well : 
I  know  not  how  to  take  thefe  news — this  fit,  I  mean, 
That  hath  bereft  me  of  all  reafon  clean. 

Maior.     God  fhield  my  Soueraign  ! 

King.     Nay,  nothing.     I  mail  be  well  anon. 

Jane.     May  it  pleafe  your  highnefs,  fit. 

King.     I,  faine  with   thee.     Nay,  we  mull  needes 

be  gone. 

Coufin  Howard,  conuey  thefe  letters  to  our  Counfel ; 
And  bid  them  giue  vs  their  aduice  of  them. 
Thanks  for  my  cheere,  Lord  Maior,  farewell  to  you  ! 
And  farewell,  miftreffe  Shoare,  Lady  Maior effe,  I  mould 

fay, 

Tis  you  haue  caufed  our  parting  at  this  time. 
Farewell,  matter  Shoare  \  farewell  to  all ! 
We'll  meet  once  more,  to  make  amends  for  this. 

Exeunt  King,  Howard,  and  Sellinger. 

Maior.     Oh,  God  !  here  to  be  ill ! 
My  houfe  to  caufe  my  Soueraigns  difcontent ! 
Coufin  Shore,  I  had  rather  fpent 

Shore.     Content  yourfelf,   my  lord !     Kings  haue 

their  humors. 

The  letters  did  containe  fomwhat,  no  doubt, 
That  did  difpleafe  him. 

Jane.     So,  my  lord,  thinke  I. 
But,  by  Gods  helpe,  he  will  be  well  againe. 

Maior.     I    hope    fo    too.     Well   coufm   for   your 

paines, 

I  can  but  thanke  ye  :  chiefly  you,  fair  neice, 
At  night,  I  pray  ye,  both  come  fuppe  with  me. 
How  fay  ye  ?  will  ye  ? 

Shore.     Yes,  my  lord,  we  will. 
So  for  this  time  we  humbly  take  our  leaue. 

Exeunt  Shore  and  his  Wife. 

Maior.     Oh,  now  the  fudden  fickneffe  of  my  liege 


King  Edward  the  foiirth.  63 

Afflicts  my  foule  with  many  paffions  ! 

His  highneffe  did  intend  to  be  right  merry  ; 

And  God  he  knows  how  it  would  glad  my  foule, 

If  I  had  feen  his  highneffe  fatisfied 

With  the  poor  entertainment  of  his  Maior, 

His  humble  vaffal,  whofe  lands,  whofe  life,  and  all, 

Are,  and  in  duty  rnufl  be  alwaies,  his. 

Well,  God,  I  trufl,  will  bleffe  his  graces  health, 

And  quickly  eafe  him  of  his  fuddaine  fit. 

Take  away  there,  ho  !  rid  this  place  ; 

And  God  of  heauen  blefs  my  foueraign's  grace.  Exit. 

Enter  two  prentices,  preparing  the  Goldfmittts  Shop 
with  plate. 

1  Pren.     Sirrah  Jack,  come  fet  out. 

2  Pren.     You  are  the  elder  prentice  !  I  pray  you  do 
it,  left  my  miflriffe  talk  with  you  when  me  comes 
downe.     What  is  it  aclock  ? 

1  Preji.     Six  by  Allhallowes  \ 

2  Pren.     Lying  and  ftealing  will  bring  ye  to  the  gal 
lows. 

Is  heere  all  the  plate  1 

1  Pren.     Ay,  that  muft  ferue  to-day.     Where  is  the 
weights  and  balance  ? 

2  Pren.     All  ready.     Hark,  my  miftrefs  comes. 

Exit  i  Ap. 

Enter  Miftris  Shore,  with  her  worke  in  her  hand. 

Jane.     Sir  boy,  while  I  attend  the  fhop  myfelf, 
See  if  the  workman  haue  difpatcht  the  cup. 
How  many  ounces  weighes  it  ? 

2  Pren.     Twenty,  forfooth. 

Jane.     What  faid  the  gentleman  to  the  fafhion  ? 

2  Pren.     He  told  my  mafter.     I  was  not  within. 

Jane.   Go  fir  make  hafte.  Your  mailers  in  Cheape- 

fide. 
Take  heed  ye  were  beft  your  loitring  be  not  fpide. 


64  The  fir  ft  part  of 

The  boy  departs,  and Jhe  fits  f owing  in  herjhop. 
Enter  the  King  difguifed. 

King.     Well  fare  a  cafe  to  put  a  king  in  yet. 
Good  miflrefs  Shore  \  this  doth  your  loue  procure  : 
This  ihape  is  fecret ;  and  I  hope  tis  fure. 
The  watermen  that  daily  vfe  the  Court, 
And  fee  me  often,  know  me  not  in  this. 
At  Lion  quay  I  landed  in  their  view, 
Yet  none  of  them  took  knowledge  of  the  King. 
If  an)  gallant  ftriue  to  haue  the  wall, 
He  yield  it  gently.     Soft ;  here  mufl  I  turn  ; 
Heres  Lombard  Streete,  and  heres  the  Pelican ; 
And  there's  the  phoenix  in  the  pelicans  ne(l. 
Oh,  rare  perfection  of  rich  Natures  work  ! 
Bright  twinkling  fpark  of  precious  diamond, 
Of  greater  value  then  all  India  ! 
Were  there  no  funne,  by  whofe  kind,  lonely  heate, 
The  earth  brings  forth  thofe  ftones  we  hold  of  prize, 
Her  radiant  eies,  dejected  to  the  ground, 
Would  turn  each  pebble  to  a  diamond. 
Gaze,  greedy  eies  ;  and  be  not  fatisfied 
Till  you  find  reft  where  hearts  defire  doth  bide. 

Jane.     What  would  you  buy,  fir,  that  you  look  on 
here? 

King.     Your  faireft  jewel,  be  it  not  too  dear. 
Firft  how  this  fapphire  miftrefs,  that  you  wear  1 

Jane.     Sir,  it  is  right ;  that  will  I  warrant  ye. 
No  jeweller  in  London  fhowes  a  better. 

King.     No,  nor  the  like  ;  you  praife  it  pafling  well. 

Jane.  Do  I  ?  No ;  if  fome  lapidary  had  the 
flone,  more  would  not  buy  it  than  I  can  demand. 
Tis  as  well  fet,  I  think,  as  ere  ye  faw. 

King.  'Tis  fet,  indeed,  vpon  the  fairefl  hand  that 
e'er  I  faw. 

Jane.  You  are  difpofed  to  jefl.  But  for  value 
his  maieftie  might  wear  it. 

King.     Mjght  he,  ifaith  1 

Jane.     Sir,  tis  the  ring  I  mean. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          65 

King.     I  meant  the  hand. 
Jane.     You  are  a  merry  man  : 
I  fee  you  come  to  cheape,  and  not  to  buy. 

King.     Yet  he  that  offers  fairer  than  lie  do, 
Shall  hardly  find  a  partner  in  his  bargaine. 

Jane.     Perhaps  in  buying  things  of  fo  fmall  value. 
King.     Rather  becaufe  no  wealth  can  purchafe  it. 
Jane.     He  were  too   fond   that  would   fo  highly 

prife 

The  thing  which  once  was  giuen  away  for  loue. 
King.     His  hap  was  good  that  came  fo  eafily^y  it. 
Jane.     The  gift  fo  fmall,  that  (askt)  who  could 

denie  it. 
King.     Oh,  me  gaue  more,  that  fuch  a  gift  then 

gaue, 
Than  earth  ere  had,  or  world  mall  euer  haue. 

Jane.     His  hap  is  ill,  mould  it  be  as  you  fay, 
That,  hauing  giuen  him  what  you  rate  fo  high, 
And  yet  is  ftill  the  poorer  by  the  match. 

King.     That  eafily  proues  he  doth  not  know   the 

worth. 

Jane.     Yet,  hauing  had  the  vfe  of  it  fo  long, 
It  rather  proues  you  ouer  rate  the  thing, 
He  being  a  chapman,  as  it  feems  you  are. 

King.     Indeed,    none    mould    aduenture    on    the 

thing, 
Thats  to  be  purchaft  only  by  a  king. 

Jane.     If   kings    loue   that   which    no  man   elfe 

refpecls, 

It  may  be  fo  ;  elfe  do  I  fee  fmall  reafon 
A  king  mould  take  delight  in  fuch  coarfe  fluff. 

King.     Liues  there  a  king  that  would  not  giue  his 

crowne 
To  purchafe  fuch  a  kingdom  of  content  1 

Jane.     In   my   conceit,   right  well  you  aske  that 

queftion  : 

The  world  I  think  containes  not  fuch  fond  king. 
King.   Why  miflrefs  Shore,  I  am  the  man  will  do  it. 
i  F 


66  The  firjt  part  of 

Jane.     Its  proudely  fpoke,   although  Ide  not  be- 

lieue  it, 
Were  he  king  Edward  that  mould  offer  it. 

King.     But  fliall  I  haue  it  *l 

Jane.     Vpon  what  acquaintance  ? 

King.     Why  fmce  I  faw  thee  lafl. 

Jane.     Where  was  that  ? 

King.     At  the  Lord  Maiors,  in  the  prefence  of  the 
King. 

Jane.     I  haue  forgotten  that  I  faw  you  there  ; 
For  there  were  manie  that  I  took  fmall  note  of. 

King.     Of  me  you  did,  and  we  had  fome  difcourfe. 

Jane.     You  are  deceiued,  fir  ;  I  had  then  no  time, 
For  my  attendance  on  his  maieflie. 

King.     He  gage  my  hand  vnto  your  hand  of  that. 
Look  well  upon  me.  He  difcouers  himfelf. 

Jane.     Now,  I  befeech  you,  let  this  flrange  dif- 

guife 

Excufe  my  boldneffe  to  your  maiefly.  Kneeles. 

Whateuer  we  poffeffe  is  all  your  highnefs  \ 
Only  mine  honour,  which  I  cannot  grant. 

King.    Only  thy  loue,  bright  angel,  Edward  craues; 
For  which  I  thus  aduentured  to  fee  thee. 

Enter  Maifter  Shore. 

Jane.     But  here  comes  one  to  whom  I  only  gaue 

it; 
And  he,  I  doubt,  will  fay  you  mail  not  haue  it. 

King.     Am  I  fo  foone  cut  off?     O  fpite, 
How  fay  you,  miftreffe ;  will  you  take  my  offer  1 

Jane.     Indeed,  I  cannot,  fir,  afford  it  fo. 

King.     Youle  not  be  offered  fairlier  I  beleeue. 

Jane.     Indeed,  you  offer  like  a  gentleman  j 
But  yet  the  Jewell  will  not  fo  be  left. 

Shore.     Sir,  if  you  bid  not  too  much  under-foot, 
lie  driue  the  bargain  twixt  you  and  my  wife. 

King.     Alas,  good  S/iore,  myfelf  dare  anfwer  No. 

afidf. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  67 

Nothing  can  make  thee  fuch  a  Jewell  foregoe. 
She  laith  you  fhall  be  too  much  lofer  by  it. 

Shore.     See  in  the  row,  then,  if  you  can  fpeede 

better. 
King.     See  many  worlds  arow,  affords  not  like. 

As  he  goes  forth)  Shore  looks  earneftly  andperceiues 
it  is  the  King,  whereat  hefeemeth  greatly  dif contented. 
Jane.  Why  lookefl  thou,  Maf\  knowft  thou  the 

gentleman  ? 

Alas,  what  ails  thee,  that  thou  lookfl  fo  pale  ? 
What  cheer,  fweetheart  ?  alas  !  where  hail  thou  been  ? 
Shore.      Nay,    nothing,    Jane.       Know    you    the 

gentleman  ? 
Jane.     Not   I,   fweetheart.      Alas !   why   do   you 

aske? 
Is  he  thine  enemy  ? 

Shore.     I  cannot  tell. 

What  came  he  heere  to  cheapen  at  our  mop  ? 
Jane.     This  Jewell,  loue. 

Shore.     Well,  I  pray  God  he  came  for  nothing  elfe. 
Jane.     Why,  who  is  it  ?     I  do  fufpedl  him,  Shore, 
That  you  demand  thus  doubtedly  of  me. 
Shore.     Ah,  Jane,  it  is  the  King. 
Jane.     The  King,  what  then  ?  is  it  for  that  thou 

figheftl 

Were  he  a  thoufand  kings,  thou  haft  no  caufe 
To  feare  his  prefence,  or  fufpedl  my  loue. 

Shore.     I  know  I  haue  not.     See,  he  comes  again. 

The  King  enters  againe,  muffled  in  his  cloak. 

King.      Still    is    my   hindrer    there  ?    be    patient, 

heart ! 

Some  fitter  feafon  muft  affwage  the  fmart. 
What,  will  ye  take  that,  miflriffe,  which  I  offerd  ye  ? 
I  come  again,  fir,  as  one  willing  to  buy. 
I     Jane.     Indeed,  I  cannot,  fir ;  I  pray  ye 
Deale  with  my  husband.     Heare  what  he  will  fay. 
Shore.     He  fell  it  worth  your  money,  if  you  pleafe. 

F  2 


68  The firft part  of 

I  pray  you  come  neare  fir. 

King.     I  am  too  neare  already,  thou  fo  neare. 
Nay,  nay,  me  knowes  what  I  did  offer  her ; 
And,  in  good  fadneffe,  I  can  giue  no  more. 
So  fare  ye  well  fir ;  I  will  not  deal  with  you.        Exit. 

Jane.     You  are  deceiud,  fweetheart.     Tis  not  the 

King. 
Thinke  you  he  would  aduenture  thus  alone  1 

Shore.     I  do  aflure  thee,  Jane,  it  is  the  King. 
Oh,  God  !  twixt  the  extreames  of  loue  and  fear, 
In  what  a  fhiuering  ague  fits  my  foul ! 
Keep  we  our  treafure  fecret,  yet  fo  fond 
As  fet  fo  rich  a  beauty  as  this  is 
In  the  wide  view  of  euery  gazers  eye  ? 
Oh,  traitor  beautie,  oh,  deceitfull  good  ! 
That  doeft  confpire  againft  thyfelf  and  loue  : 
No  fooner  got,  but  wifht  againe  of  others  ! 
In  thine  own  felf  injurious  to  thy  felf ! 
Oh,  rich  poor  portion  !  thou  good  evil  thing  ! 
How  many  joyful  woes  flill  dofl  thou  bring  ! 

Jane.     I  prithee,  come,  fweet  loue,  and  fit  by  me. 
No  king  thats  vnder  heauen  He  loue  like  thee.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Sir  Humfrey  Bowes  and  Maijler  Afton,  being 
two  Juftices,  Harry  Grudgen,  Robert  Good- 
fellow,  and  John  Hobs  the  Tauner. 

Bowes.     Neighbours  and  friend^  the  caufe  that  you 

are  cald 

Concernes  the  Kings  mofl  excellent  Maiefty, 
Whofe  right,  you  know,  by  his  progenitors, 
Vnto  the  crowne  and  foueraignty  of  France, 
Is  wrongfully  detained  by  the  French  ; 
Which  to  reuenge  and  royally  regaine, 
His  highneffe  meanes  to  put  himfelf  in  armes, 
And  in  his  princely  perfon  to  conduct 
His  warlicke  troops  againft  the  enemy. 
But  for  his  coffers  which  are  vnfurnimed, 
Through  ciuill  difcord  and  interline  war, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  69 

Whofe  bleeding  fears  our  eies  may  yet  behold, 
He  praies  his  faithful,  louing  fubie6ls  help, 
To  further  this  his  jufl  great  enterprize. 

Hobs.  So  the  feck  and  meaning,  whereby,  as  it 
were,  of  all  your  long  purgation,  Sir  Humfrey,  is  no 
more,  in  fome  refpec~l,  but  the  King  wants  mony,  and 
would  haue  fome  of  his  commonty. 

Bowes.     Tanner,  you  rightly  vnderftand  the  matter. 

Aft.     Note  this,  withal ;  where  his  dread  maieftie, 
Our  lawfull  fouereign  and  moft  royall  king, 
Might  haue  exacted  or  impofd  a  tax, 
Or  borrowd  greater  fums  then  we  can  fpare, 
(For  all  we  haue  is  at  his  dread  command) 
He  doth  not  fo  ;  but  mildly  doth  intreate 
Our  kind  beneuolence,  what  we  will  giue, 
With  willing  minds,  towards  this  mighty  charge, 

Enter  Lord  Howard. 

Which  to  receiue,  his  noble  counfeller 

And  Kinfraan,  the  Lord  Howard,  here  is  come. 

How.     Now,  good  Sir  Humfrey  Bowes  and  Maifler 

Afton, 
Haue  ye  declared  the  Kings  mofl  gratious  pleafure  ? 

Bowes.     We  haue,  my  Lord. 

How.     His  Highneffe  will  not  force 
As  loan  or  tribute,  but  will  take  your  gift 
In  grateful  part,  and  recompenfe  your  loue. 

Bowes.     To  mow  my  loue,  though  money  now  be 

fcarce, 
A  hundreth  pound  lie  giue  his  maiefty. 

How.     Tis  well,  Sir  Humfrey. 

Aft.     I  a  hundred  marks, 

How.     Thanks,  mailer  Afton  ;  you  both  mow  your 

loue. 
Now  ask  your  neighbors  what  they  will  beftowe  ? 

Bowzs.     Come  maifter  Hadland,  your  Beneuolence. 

Had.     Oh,  good   Sir  Humfrey,  do  not    rack  my 

purfe. 
You  know  my  Hate  :  I  lately  fold  my  land. 


7o  The  fir  ft  part  of 

Afl.     Then  you  haue  mony :    let  the  King  haue 
part. 

Hobs.  I,  do,  matter  Hadland,  do.  They  fay  ye 
fold  a  foule  deale  of  dirtie  land  for  faire  gold  and 
filuer.  Let  the  King  haue  fome  nowe,  while  you 
haue  it ;  for,  if  ye  be  forborne  a  while,  all  will  be 
fpent ;  for  he  that  cannot  keep  land,  that  lies  fail, 
will  haue  much  adoe  to  hold  money;  tis  flippery 
ware  ;  tis  melting  ware  :  tis  melting  ware. 

How.     Gramercy  tanner. 

Bowes.     Say,  what  mail  we  haue  1 

Had.     My  forty  millings. 

Aft.     Robert  Goodfellow, 
I  knowe  you  will  be  liberal!  to  the  King. 

Good.     O,  Maifter  AJlon,  be  content,  I  pray  ye  : 
You  know  my  charge  ;  my  houihold  very  greate  ; 
And  my  houfekeeping  holdes  me  very  bare  ; 
Three  fcore  vprifing  and  downlying  fir, 
Spends  no  fmall  ftore  of  victuals  in  a  yeare  ; 
Two  brace  of  grayhounds,  twenty  couple  of  hounds  ; 
And  then  'my  iades  devoure  a  deale  of  corne  ; 
My   Chriftmaffe   coil ;    and    then    my  friends    that 

come, 

Amounts  to  charge  ;  I  am  Robin  Goodfellowe, 
That  welcomes  all  and  keepes  a  frolick  houfe. 
I  haue  no  mony.  Pray  ye,  pardon  me. 

How.     Heres  a  plain  tanner  can  teach  you  how  to 

thriue. 

Keep  fewer  dogs,  and  then  ye  may  feede  men  : 
Yet  feede  no  idle  men  ;  tis  needleffe  charge  : 
You  that  on  hounds  and  hunting-mates  will  fpend, 
No  doubt  but  fomthing  to  your  King  youle  lend. 

Good,     My  brace  of  angells :   by  my  troth,  that's 
all. 

Hobs.  Maffe,  and  tis  well  the  curs  haue  left  fo 
much.  I  thought  they  would  haue  eaten  vp  thy  houfe 
and  land  ere  this. 

Bowes.     Now,  Harry  Grudgen. 

Grud.     What  would  you  haue   of  me?     Money, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  7 1 

I  haue  none ;  and  He  fell  no  flock.  Heres  old 
polling,  fubfidy,  fifteen,  foldiers  and  to  the  poor  ! 
And  you  may  haue  your  will,  youle  foon  Ihut  me  out 
a  door. 

Hobs.  Hear  ye,  worfhips,  will  ye  let  me  anfwer  my 
neighbour  Grudgen  1  By  my  halidome,  Harry  Grud- 
gen  \  th'art  but  a  grumbling,  grudging  churl  :  thou 
haft  two  ploughs  going,  and  nere  a  cradle  rocking ; 
thafl  a  peck  of  mony,  go  to  ;  turne  thee  loofe  ;  thoult 
go  to  law  with  the  vicar  for  a  tithe  goofe,  and  wilt  not 
fpare  the  King  four  or  fiue  pound. 

Grud.  Gep,  goodman  Tanner,  are  ye  fo  round  ? 
your  prolicatenefs  has  brought  your  fon  to  the  gallows 
almoft.  You  can  be  frank  of  another  mans  cofl. 

Hobs.  Th'art  no  honeft  man,  to  twit  me  with  my 
fon :  he  may  outline  thee  yet,  for  aught  that  he  has 
done  :  my  fons  ith  gaol :  is  he  the  firft  hath  been 
there?  And  thou  wert  a  man,  as  thart  a  beaft,  I 
would  haue  thee  by  the  eares.  Weeping. 

How.     Friend,  thou  wantft  nurture  to  vpbraid  a 

father 

With  a  fons  fault.     We  fit  not  here  for  this. 
Whats  thy  beneuolence  to  his  Maiefty  ? 

Hobs.  His  benegligence  ?  hang  him,  hele  not  giue 
a  penny  willingly. 

Grud.     I  care  not  much  to  caft  away  forty  pence. 
How.      Out,  grudging   peafant,   bafe,   ill-nurtured 

groome, 

Is  this  the  loue  thou  bearft  vnto  the  King  ? 
Gentlemen,  take  notice  of  the  flaue ; 
And  if  he  fault,  let  him  be  foundly  plagude. 
Now  frolick  tanner,  what  wilt  thou  affoord  ? 

Hobs,  Twenty  old  angels  and  a  fcore  of  hides ;  if 
that  be  too  little,  take  twenty  nobles  more.  While  I 
haue  it,  my  King  mail  fpend  of  my  flore. 

How.     The   King  mail  know  thy  louing  liberal 

heart. 

Hobs.  Shall  he,  ifaith  1  I  thank  ye  heartily  :  but 
hear  ye,  gentlemen,  you  come  from  the  Court  ? 


7  2  The  firfl  part  of 

How.     I  doe. 

Hobs.  Lord,  how  does  the  King  ?  and  how  does 
Ned,  the  Kings  butler,  and  Tom,  of  his  Chamber  ?  I 
am  fure  ye  know  them. 

How.     They  do  very  well. 

Hobs.  For  want  of  better  guefts,  they  were  at  my 
houfe  one  night. 

How.     I  know  they  were. 

Hobs.  They  promift  me  a  good  turne  for  kifling 
my  daughter  Nell',  and  now  I  ha'  cazion  to  try  them. 
My  fon's  in  Dybell  here,  in  Caperdochy,  itha  gaol ; 
for  peeping  into  another  man's  purfe ;  and,  outftep  the 
King  be  miferable,  hees  like  to  totter.  Can  that  fame 
Ne^  the  butler,  do  any  thing  with  the  King  ? 

How.     More  than  myfelf,  or  any  other  lord. 

Hobs.  A  halter  he  can,  by  my  troth,  ye  re  jounce 
my  heart  to  heare  it. 

How.      Come  to  the  Court :    I  warrant  thy  fons 

life: 
Ned  will  faue  that,  and  do  thee  greater  good. 

Hobs.  He  weane  Brock,  my  mares  foal,  and  come 
vp  to  the  King ;  and  it  mall  go  hard  but  two  fat  hens 
for  your  pains  I  will  bring. 

Bowes.     My  lord,  this  fellow  now  will  giue 
Fiue  pounds,  fo  you  will  pardon  his  rude  fpeech. 

How.      For  fiue   and  fiue   I  cannot  brooke  the 
beaft. 

Grud.     What  giues  the  tanner  1    I  am  as  able  as 
he. 

Aft.     He  giues  ten  pound. 

Grud.     Take  twenty  then  of  me. 
I  pray  ye  my  lord,  forgiue  my  rough-heaued  fpeech. 
I  wis,  I  meant  no  hurt  vnto  my  liege. 

Bowes.     Let  vs  intreat  your  lordfhips  patience. 

How.     I  do,  at  your  requeft,  remit  the  offence ; 
So  lets  depart :  heres  all  we  haue  to  do. 

Aft.     Tis,  for  this  time  and  place,  my  lord. 
Sirrah,  bring  your  mony. 

Hobs.      What  haue  you    faued   now,   good    man 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  73 

Grud%en,  by  your  hinching  and  your  pinching  ?  not 
the  worth  of  a  blacke  pudding.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Miftris  Shore  and  Miftris  Blague. 

Mais.  Bla.     Now  miftrefs  Shore,  what  urgent  caufe 

is  that 

Which  made  ye  fend  for  me  in  fuch  great  hafte  ? 
I  promife  ye,  it  made  me  halfe  afraid 
You  were  not  well. 

Jane.     Truft  me,  nor  ficke  nor  well, 
But  troubled  flill  with  the  difeafe  I  told  ye. 
Here  is  another  letter  from  the  King. 
Was  neuer  poor  foule  fo  importuned  ? 

Mais.  Bla.     But  will  no  anfwer  feme  ? 

Jane.     No,  miflrefs  Blague ;  no  anfwer  will  fuffice. 
He,  he  it  is,  that  with  a  violent  fiege 
Labours  to  breake  into  my  plighted  faith. 
Oh,  what  am  I,  he  mould  fo  much  forget 
His  royal  ftate  and  his  high  maieflie  ? 
Still  doth  he  come  difguifed  to  my  houfe, 
And  in  mod  humble  terms  bewrays  his  loue. 
My  husband  grieues  :  alas,  how  can  he  choofe, 
Fearing  the  difpoffeffment  of  his  Jane  1 
And  when  he  cannot  come  (for  him)  he  writes, 
Offering  befide  incomparable  gifts  : 
And  all  to  win  me  to  his  princely  will. 

Mais.  Bla.   Belieue  me,  Miflriffe  Shore,  a  dangerous 

cafe; 

And  euery  way  replete  with  doubtful  feare. 
If  you  mould  yield,  your  vertuous  name  were  foild, 
And  your  beloued  husband  made  a  fcorn  ; 
And  if  not  yield,  tis  likely  that  his  loue, 
Which  now  admires  ye,  will  conuert  to  hate ; 
And  who  knows  not  a  princes  hate  is  death  1 
Yet  I  will  not  be  me  mail  counfel  ye  : 
Good  miflrefs  Shore,  do  what  ye  will  for  me. 

Jane.     Then  counfell  me  what  I  were  beft  to  do. 


74  The  firjl  part  of 

Mais.  Bla.     You  know,  his  greatneffe  can  difpenfe 

with  ill, 

Making  the  fin  feem  leffer  by  his  worth ; 
And  you  yourfelf,  your  children,  and  your  friends, 
Be  all  aduanced  to  worldly  dignity ; 
And  this  worlds  pomp,  you  know  is  a  goodly  thing. 
Yet  I  will  not  be  (he  (hall  counfell  ye  ; 
Good  miftrefs  Shore,  do  what  ye  will  for  me. 

Jane.     Alas,  I  know  that  I  was  bound  by  oath 
To  keep  the  promife  that  I  made  at  firft ; 
And  virtue  Hues,  when  pomp  confumes  to  dud. 

Mais.  Bla.     So  we  do  fay  difhonour  is  no  (hame, 
When  (lander  does  not  touch  th'  offenders  name. 
You  (hall  be  folded  in  a  princes  arms, 
Whofe  beck  difperfeth  euen  the  greateft  harmes. 
Many,  that  fit  themfelues  in  high  degree, 
Will  then  be  glad  to  (loope  and  bend  the  knee. 
And  who  id,  hauing  plenty  in  the  hand, 
Neuer  commanded,  but  doth  dill  command, 
That  cannot  work  in  fuch  exceffe  of  things, 
To  quit  the  guilt  one  fmall  tranfgreflion  brings  ? 
Yet  I  will  not  be  (he  (hall  counfell  ye  : 
Good  maiftreffe  Shore,  do  what  ye  will  for  me. 

Jane.     Here  do  I  Hue,  although  in  mean  eflate,    . 
Yet  with  a  confcience  free  from  all  debate  ; 
Where  higher  footing  may  in  time  procure 
A  fudden  fall,  and  mixe  my  (weete  with  foure. 

Mais.   Bla.      True,   I   confelfe   a    priuate   life   is 

good, 

Nor  would  I  otherw'fe  be  vnderdood. 
To  be  a  goldfmiths  wife  is  fome  content ; 
But  dayes  in  court  more  pleafantly  are  fpent. 
A  houfeholds  gouernment  deferues  renowne, 
But  what  is  a  companion  to  a  crowne  1 
The  name  of  Midrifle  is  a  pretty  thing, 
But  Madam  at  each  word  doth  glory  bring. 
Yet  I  will  not  be  (he  (hall  counfel  ye  : 
Good  Midrifs  Shore,  do  what  ye  will  for  me. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  75 

Jane.     Oh,  that  I  knew  which  were  the  beft  of 

twain, 
Which  for  I  doe  not,  I  am  ficke  with  paine. 

Enter  her  Boy. 

How  now  fir  boy,  what  is  the  newes  with  you  ? 

Boy.     The  gentleman,  forfooth,  the  other  day, 
That  would  haue  bought  the  Jewell  at  our  flail, 
Is  here  to  fpeake  with  ye. 

Jane.     Oh,  God  !  it  is  the  King. 
Good  miftriffe  Blague,  withdraw  ye  from  this  place  : 
He  come  anon,  fo  foon  as  he  is  gone. 
And  firrah,  get  you  to  the  mop  again.  Exit  Boy. 

Mais.  Bla.     Now,  miftriffe  Shore,  bethink  ye  what 

to  do. 
Such  fuitors  come  not  euery  day  to  woo. 

Miflris  Blague  departs,  and  the  King  enters  in  his 
former  difguife. 

King.     Thou  mayft  conuicl.  me,  beauties  pride,  of 

boldnefs, 

That  I  intrude  like  an  vnbidden  gueft ; 
But,  Loue  being  guide  my  fault  will  feem  the  leffe. 

Jane.      Moft  welcome  to   your  fubiecls   homely 

roofe  ! 

The  foot,  my  foueraign,  feldom  doth  offence, 
Vnlefs  the  heart  fome  other  hurt  intend. 

King.     The  moft  thou  feeft  is  hurt  vnto  myfelf : 
How  for  thy  fake  is  maiefty  difrobed  ! 
Riches  made  poore  and  dignity  brought  low, 
Only  that  thou  mightft  our  affection  know  ! 

Jane.     The  more  the  pity,  that,  within  the  sky, 
The  funne  that  mould  all  other  vapors  dry, 
And  guide  the  world  with  his  moft  glorious  light, 
Is  muffled  vp  himfelf  in  wilfull  night. 

King.     The   want   of   thee,   fair    Cinthia,   is    the 

caufe. 

Spread  thou  thy  filuer  brightnefTe  in  the  aire, 
And  ftrait  the  gladfome  morning  will  appeare. 


76  The  firjl  part  of 

Jane.     I  may  not  wander.     He,  that  guides  my  car, 
Is  an  immoued,  conftant,  fixed  Star. 

King.     But  I  will  giue  that  Star  a  Comets  name, 
And  fhield  both  thee  and  him  from  further  blame. 

Jane.     How  if  the  Hoft  of  Heauen  at  this  abufe 
Repine  ?  who  can  the  prodigy  excufe  ? 

King.     It  lies  within  the  compafle  of  my  power, 
To  dim  their  enuious  eyes,  dare  feeme  to  loure. 
But,  leauing  this  our  enigmatick  talke, 
Thou  muft  fweete  Jane,  repaire  vnto  the  Court. 
His  tongue  intreates,  controuls  the  greateft  peer  : 
His  hand  plights  loue,  a  royall  fceptre  holds ; 
And  in  his  heart  he  hath  confirmd  thy  good, 
Which  may  not,  mull  not,  mall  not  be  withftood. 

Jane.     If  you  inforce  me,  I  haue  nought  to  fay ; 
But  wim  I  had  not  liued  to  fee  this  day. 

King.     Blame  not  the  time.    Thou  malt  haue  caufe 

to  joy ! 

Jane,  in  the  euening  I  will  fend  for  thee, 
And  thou  and  thine  mail  be  aduanced  by  me  : 
In  figri  whereof,  receiue  this  true-loue  kiffe. 
Nothing  ill  meant,  there  can  be  no  amiffe.  Exit. 

Jane.     Well,  I  will  in  ;  and  ere  the  time  beginne, 
Learn  how  to  be  repentant  for  my  finne.  Exit. 

Enter  Lord  Maior,  Maifter  Shore,  and  Fraunces 
Emeriley. 

Maior.     But,  coufm  Shore,  are  ye  affured  it  was  the 
King  you  faw  in  fuch  difguife  ? 

Shore.     Do  I  know  you,  the  vncle  of  my  wife  ? 
Know  I  Frank  Emerfley,  her  brother  here  ? 
So  furely  do  I  knowe  that  counterfeit 
To  be  the  King, 

Fran.     Well,  admit  all  this, 
And  that  his  maiefty,  in  fuch  difguife, 
Pleafe  to  furuay  the  manner  of  our  city, 
Or  what  occafion  elfe  may  like  himfelf : 
Methinks  you  haue  fmall  reafon,  brother  Shore, 
To  be  difpleafde  thereat. 

Ma.     Oh,  I  haue  found  him  now. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  77 

Becaufe  my  Neece,  his  wife,  is  beautifull, 

And  well  reputed  for  her  vertuous  parts, 

He,  in  his  fond  conceit,  mifdoubts  the  King 

Doth  dote  on  her  in  his  affection. 

I  know  not  coufm  how  fhe  may  be  changed, 

By  any  caufe  in  your  procuring  it, 

From  the  fair  carriage  of  her  wonted  courfe  ; 

But  well  I  wot,  I  haue  oft  heard  you  fay, 

She  merited  no  fcruple  of  miflike. 

If  now  fome  giddy  fancy  in  your  braine  * 

Make  you  conceiue  finifterly  of  her, 

And  with  a  perfon  of  fuch  difference, 

I  tell  you  Coufm  more  for  her  refpec~l 

Than  to  foothe  you  in  fuch  fottilhnefs, 

I  would  reueale  ye  open  to  the  world, 

And  let  your  folly  iuftly  plague  yourfelf. 

Shore.     Yncle,  you  are  too  forward  in  your  rage, 
And  much  miflake  me  in  this  fuddenneffe. 
Your  neeces  reputation  haue  I  prifde, 
And  ihrined  as  deuoutly  in  my  foule, 
As  you  or  any  that  it  can  concerne. 
Nor  when  I  tell  you  that  it  is  the  King 
Comes  muffled  like  a  common  ieruing-man, 
Do  I  infer  thereby  my  wife  is  falfe, 
Or  fwerues  one  iot  from  wonted  modeflie. 
Though  in  my  mop  me  fit,  more  to  refpe6l 
Her  feruants  duty,  then  for  any  fkill 
She  doth,  or  can  pretend,  in  what  we  trade, 
Is  it  not  flrange,  that  euer  when  he  comes, 
It  is  to  her,  and  will  not  deale  with  me  ? 
Ah,  vncle,  Frank,  nay,  would  all  her  kin 
Were  heere  to  cenfure  of  my  caufe  aright. 
Though  I  mifdeeme  not  her,  yet  give  me  leaue 
To  doubt  what  his  fly  walking  may  entend. 
And  let  me  tell  ye,  he  that  is  poffeft 
Of  fuch  a  beautie,  feares  vncfermining  guefles  ; 
Efpecially  a  mighty  one,  like  him, 
Whofe  greatneffe  may  guikf  oner  vgly  fmne. 
But  fay  his  coming  is  not  to  my  wife, 


78  The  firft  part  of 

Then  hath  he  fome  fly  aiming  at  my  life, 
By  falfe  compounded  metalls,  or  light  gold, 
Or  elfe  fome  other  trifle  to  be  fold. 
When  kings  themfelues  fo  narrowly  do  pry 
Into  the  world,  men  feare ;  and  why  not  I  ? 

Fran.     Belieue  me,  brother,  in  this  doubtful  cafe, 
I  know  not  well  how  I  mould  anfwer  ye. 
I  wonder  in  this  ferious  bufie  time 
Qf  this  great  gathered  Beneuolence 
£or  his  regaining  of  his  right  in  France, 
The  day  and  nightly  turmoile  of  his  lordes, 
Yea  of  the  whole  estate  in  generall, 
He  can  be  fpared  from  thefe  great  affaires, 
And  wander  heere  difguifed  in  this  fort. 
But  is  not  this  your  Boy? 

Enter  Boy. 

Shore.     Yes,  marry,  is  it.     How  now ;    what  newes 
with  thee  % 

Boy.     Matter,  my  miftreffe,  by  a  nobleman, 
Is  fent  for  to  the  King,  in  a  clofe  coach. 
Shees  gone  with  him.     Thefe  are  the  news  I  bring. 

Maior.     How,  my  neece  fent  for  to  the  King  ? 
By  a  nobleman,  and  fhee  is  gone  with  him  ? 
Nay,  then,  I  like  it  not. 

Em.     How,  gone,  faiett  thou  1 

Shore.     Be  patient  vncle,  ftorm  not,  gentle  Franke, 
The  wrong  is  mine.     By  whom  ?    A  king. 
To  talke  of  fuch  it  is  no  common  thing. 
She  is  gone,  thou  faiefl  1 

Boy.     Yes,  truly,  fir :  tis  fo. 

Shore.     I  cannot  help  it ;   a  Gods  name,  let  her 

goe. 

You  cannot  help  it,  vncle ;  no  nor  you. 
Where  kings  are  medlers,  meaner  men  mutt  rue. 
I  ttorme  againft  it  ?  no ;  farewell,  Jane  Shore. 
Once  thou  watt  mine ;  but  mutt  be  fo  no  more. 

Maior.     Gone  to  the  Court?  Exit. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          79 

Shore.     Yet,  vncle,  will  ye  rage  1 
Let  mine  example  your  high  heat  affwage. 
To  note  offences  in  a  mightie  man 
It  is  enough ;  amend  it  he  that  can. 
Franke  Emerfley  \  my  wife  thy  filler  was  ; 
Lands,  goods,  and  all  I  haue,  to  thee  I  paffe, 
Saue  that  poor  portion,  muft  along  with  me, 
To  beare  me  from  this  badge  of  obloquy. 
It  neuer  mail  be  faid  that  Matthew  Shore 
A  kings  difhonor  in  his  bonnet  wore. 

Em.     Good  brother. 

Shore.     Striue  not  to  change  me,  for  I  am  refolued, 
And  will  not  tarrie.     England  fare  thou  well. 
And,  Edward,  for  requiting  me  fo  well, 
But  dare  I  fpeake  of  him  1  forbeare,  forbeare. 
Come,  franke,  I  will  furrender  all  to  thee, 
And  then  abroad,  where  ere  my  fortune  be.      Exeunt. 

Enter  King  Edward,  Howard,  Sellinger,  &c. 

King.     And  haue  our  country  fubiecls    beene   fo 

franke 

And  bountifull  in  their  Beneuolence 
Toward  our  prefent  expedition  ? 
Thanks,  coufm  Howard,  for  thy  paines  herein  : 
We  will  haue  letters  fent  to  euery  mire 
Of  thankful  gratitude,  that  they  may  knowe 
How  highly  we  refpecl  their  gentleneffe. 

How.     One   thing,   my   Lord,    I   had   well   neare 

forgot  : 
Your  pleafant  hoft,  the  Tanner  of  Tamworth. 

King.     What  of  him,  coufm  ? 

How.     He  was  right  liberall : 
Twenty  old  angels  did  he  -fend  your  grace ; 
And  others,  feeing  him  fo  bountifull, 
Stretcht  further  than  they  otherwife  had  done. 

King.      Truft    me,    I    muft    requite    that    honefl 

Tanner. 
Oh,  had  he  kept  his  word  and  come  to  Court, 


8o  The  fir /I  part  of 

Then,  in  good  fadneffe,  we  had  had  good  fport. 

How.     That  is  not  long,  my  lord,  which  comes  at 

lafl.  ' 

Hees  come  to  London,  on  an  earn  eft  caufe. 
His  f onne  lies  prifoner  in  Stafford  Jaile, 
And  is  condemned  for  a  robbery. 
Your  Highneffe  pardoning  his  fonnes  offence, 
May  yield  the  Tanner  no  meane  recompenfe. 

King.     But  who  hath  feene  him  fmce  he  came  to 
towne  ? 

Sel.     My  Lord,  in  Holborne  twas  my  hap  to  fee 

him, 

Gazing  about.     I  fent  away  my  men ; 
And  clapping  on  one  of  their  liuery  cloakes, 
Came  to  him ;  and  the  Tanner  knew  me  flraite. 
How  doft  thou  Tom  ?    and  How  doth  Ned  1    quoth 

he; 

That  honeft,  merry  hangman,  how  doth  he  1 
I,  knowing  that  your  maieftie  intended 
This  day  in  perfon  to  come  to  the  Tower, 
There"bade  him  meete  me,  where  Ned  and  I 
Would  bring  him  to  the  prefence  of  the  King, 
And  there  procure  a  pardon  for  his  fonne. 

King.     Haue  then  a  care  we  be  not  feene  of  him, 
Vntil  we  be  prouided  for  the  purpofe  ; 
Becaufe,  once  more  wele  haue  a  little  fport. 
Tom  Sellinger,  let  that  care  be  yours. 

Sel.     I  warrant  ye,  my  lord.     Let  me  alone. 

Enter  the  Lord  Maior. 

King.     Welcome,  lord  Maior  !  what,  haue  you  figni- 

fide 

Our  thankfulneffe  vnto  our  citizens, 
For  their  late-gathered  Beneuolence  ? 

Maior.     Before  the  citizens  in  our  Guildhall, 
Mailer  Recorder  made  a  good  oration, 
Of  thankfull  gratitude  vnto  them  all, 
Which  they  receiued  with  fo  kinde  refpecl 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  8 1 

And  loue  vnto  your  royall  maieftie, 

As  it  appeard  to  vs  they  forrowed 

Their  bounty  to  your  highnefs  was  no  more. 

King.     Lord  Maior,  thanks  to  yourfelf  and'them  ! 
And  go  ye  with  vs  now  into  the  Tower, 
To  fee  the  order  that  we  fhall  obferue 
In  this  fo  needful  preparation  ; 
The  better  may  you  fignifie  to  them 
What  neede  there  was  of  their  Beneuolence. 

Maior.     He  wait  vpon  your  gracious  maieflie. 
Yet  there  is  one  thing  that  much  grieueth  me.       afide. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Shore  and  two  Watermen,  bearing  his  trunkes. 

Shore.     Go,    honeft    fellow;     bear     my    trunckes 

aboard  ; 
And  tell  the  maifter  He  come  prefently. 

Enter  Mi  (Iris  Shore,  lady -like  attired,  with  diuers  fuppli- 
cations  in  her  hand,  JJie  unpinning  her  Mask,  and 
attended  on  by  many  Suitors. 
i.  Waterman.     We  will,  fir.     But  what  lady  haue 

we  he  ere  1 

Belike  me  is  of  no  meane  countenance, 
That  hath  fo  many  fuitors  waiting  on  her. 

Shore.     Go,    one   of  you,   I   pray  ye,  inquire  her 

name. 
i.  Waterman.     My  honefl  friend,  what  Lady  call  ye 

this? 
Ayre.     Her  name  is  Miftriffe  Shore,  the  kings  be- 

loued ; 
A  fpecial  friend  to  fuitors  at  the  court, 

Shore.     Her  name  is  miftriffe  Shore,  the  Kings  be 
loved  ! 

Where  mall  I  hide  my  head,  or  flop  mine  ears, 
But  like  an  owle  I  mail  be  wonderd  at  ? 
When  me  with  me  was  wont  to  walke  the  ftreetes, 
i  G 


8  2  The  firft  part  of 

The  people  then,  as  me  did  pafs  along, 
Would  fay,  There  goes  faire,  modeft,  miftriffe  Shore. 
When  fhe  attended  like  a  City  dame, 
Was  prais'd  of  matrons.     So  that  citizens, 
When  they  would  fpeake  of  ought  vnto  their  wiues. 
Fetcht  their  example  flill  from  miflrifle  Shore. 
But  now  fhe  goes  deckt  in  her  courtly  robes. 
This  is  not  me,  that  once  in  feemely  blacke 
Was  the  chafte,  fober  wife  of  Matthew  Shore; 
For  now  (he  is  King  Edwards  concubine. 
Oh,  greate  ill  title,  honorable  fhame  ! 
Her  good  I  had  ;  but,  King,  her  ill  is  thine  : 
Once  Shore's  true  wife  ;  now  Edwards  concubine. 
Amongft  the  reft,  He  note4rer  new  behauiour. 
All  this  while,  Jheftands  conferring  priuatdy  with  her 
Suitors,  and  looking  on  their  bills. 

Ayre.     Good  miftriffe  Shore,   remember  my  fon's 
life. 

Jane.     What  is  thy  name  *? 

Ayre.     My  name  is  Thomas  Ayre. 
.  Jane.     There  is  his  pardon,  figned  by  the  King. 

Ayre.     In  fign  of  humble,  hearty  thankfulneffe, 
Take  this,  in  angels,  twenty  pound. 

Jane.     What  think  ye  that  I   buie  and   fell    for 

bribes 

His  highnefs  fauour,  or  his  fubiecls  blood  ? 
No,  without  gifts,  God  grant  I  may  do  good. 
For  all  my  good  cannot  redeeme  my  ill  j 
Yet  to  doe  good  I  will  endeuour  Hill, 

Shore.     Yet  all  this  good  doth  but  guild  ore     afide. 
thy  ill. 

Pal.     Miftriffe  the  reftitution  of  my  landes, 
Taken  perforce  by  his  highneffe  officers. 

Jane.     The  Kings  content  your  goodes  mail  be  re- 

flored, 

But  the  officers  will  hardly  yeeld  thereto. 
Yet  be  content  ;  He  fee  ye  haue  no  wrong. 

Shore.     Thou   canfl  not  fay  to   me   fo.     I  haue 
wrong. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  83 

Jockey.  Miftrefs,  gude  faith,  gin  yele  help  me  til 
my  laund,  whilk  the  faulfe  loon,  Billy  Grime  of  Glen- 
dale^  hauds  wrangfully  fra  me,  I's  quite  your  gudenels 
with  a  bonny  nag,  fall  fwum  away  fo  deftly  as  the 
winde. 

Jane.     Your  fuit,   my  friend,   requires   a  longer 

time. 

Yet  fmce  you  dwell  fo  far,  to  eafe  your  charge, 
Your  diet  with  my  feruants  you  may  take  ; 
And  fome  relief  lie  get  thee  of  the  King. 

Shore.     It's   cold   relief  thou   gettil  me  from   the 
King. 

Jocky.  .Now,  Gods  bleffmg  light  on  that  gudely 
fair  face.  I's  be  your  bedefman,  miflrefs  ;  I,  indeed, 
fall  I. 

Pal.     God    bleffe    the    care  you  haue   of  doing 


Ayre.     Pity  me  mould  mifcarry  in  her  life. 
That  beares  fo  fweete  a  minde  in  doing  good. 

Shore.     So  fay  I,  too.     Ah,    Jane,  this   kills  my 

heart, 
That  thou  reckes  other,  and  not  ruft  my  fmart 

Ruf.     Miflriffe,  I  fear  you  haue  forgot  my  fuit. 

Jam.     Oh,  tis  for  a  licence  to  tranfport  corne 
From  this  land,  and  lead,  to  foraigne  realmes. 
I  had  your  bill  ;  but  I  haue  torne  your  bill  ; 
And  twere  no  Ihame,  I  think,  to  teare  your  eares, 
That  care  not  how  you  wound  the  commonwealth. 
The  poor  muft  flarue  for  foode,  to  fill  your  purfe, 
And  the  enemy  bandy  bullets  of  our  leade  ! 
No,  maifler  Rufford,  He  not  fpeake  for  you, 
Except  it  be  to  haue  you  punilhed. 

Jocky.     By  the  mefie,  a  deft  lafs  !  Chrifts  benifon 
light  on  her. 

She  efpies  her  husband,  walking  aloof  off  ,  and 
takes  him  for  another  Sutor. 

Jane.     Is  that  another  Sutor  ?     I  haue  no  bill  of 

his." 
Go,  one  of  you,  and  know  what  he  would  haue. 

G   2 


84  The  firft  part  of 

Shore.     Yes,  Jane  the  bill  of  my  obliged  faith  : 
And  I  had  thine  ;  but  thou  haft  cancelld  it. 

Herejhe  knowes  him,  and  lamenting,  comes  to  him. 

Jane.     Oh  God,  it  is  my  husband,  kind  Matthew 
Shore. 

Shore.     Ah  Jane,  whats  he  dare  fay  he  is  thy  hus 
band? 

Thou  waft  a  wife,  but  now  thou  art  not  fo ; 
Thou  waft  a  maid,  a  maid  when  thou  waft  wife ; 
Thou  waft  a  wife,  euen  when  thou  waft  a  maide  ; 
So  good,  fo  modeft,  and  fo  chafte  thou  waft  ! 
But  now  thou  art  diuorct  whiles  yet  he  liues, 
That  was  thy  husband,  while  thou  waft  his  wife. 
Thy  wifehood  ftaind,  by  thy  difhonour'd  life. 
For  now  thou  art  nor  widow,  maide,  nor  wife. 

Jane.     I  muft  confeffe,  I  yeelded  vp  the  fort, 
Wherein  lay  all  the  riches  of  my  joy ; 
But  yet,  fweete  Share,  before  I  yeelded  it, 
I  did  indure  the  longft  and  greateft  fiege 
That  euer  batterd  on  poor  chaftity. 
And  but  to  him  that  did  affault  the  fame, 
For  euer  it  had  been  inuincible. 
But  I  will  yeeld  it  backe  againe  to  thee. 
He  cannot  blame  me,  though  it  be  fo  done, 
To  lofe  by  me,  what  firft  by  me  was  wonne. 

Shore.     No,   Jane,   there  is  no  place  allowd  for 

me, 

Where  once  a  king  has  tane  poffeffion. 
Meane  men  brooke  not  a  riual  in  their  loue  ; 
Much  lefs  fo  high  unriualld  maieftie. 
A  concubine  to  one,  fo  great  as  Edward, 
Is  far  too  greate  to  be  the  wife  of  Shore. 

Jane.     I  will  refufe  the  pleafures  of  the  Court. 
Let  me  go  with  thee,  Shore,  though  not  as  a  wife, 
Yet  as  thy  flaue  fmce  I  haue  loft  that  name. 
I  will  redeem  the  wrong  that  I  haue  done  thee, 
With  my  true  feruice,  if  thou  wilt  accept  it 

Srore.     Thou  go  with  me,  Jane  t\     Oh  God  forbid 
That  I  mould  be  a  traitor  to  my  King  ! 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  8  5 

Shall  I  become  a  felon  to  his  pleafures, 
And  fly  away,  as  guilty  of  the  theft  ? 
No,  my  dear  Jane,  I  fay  it  may  not  be. 
Oht  what  haue  fubiec~ls  that  is  not  their  kings, 
He  not  examine  his  prerogatiue. 

yane.  Why,  then,  fweete  Mat,  let  me  intreate  thee 

{lay. 

What  ill  with  Edward  that  I  cannot  do  ? 
He  make  thee  wealthier  than  ere  Richard  was, 
That  entertaind  the  three  greatefl  kings  in  Europe, 
And  feafted  them  in  London  on  a  day. 
Aske  what  thou  wilt ;  were  it  a  million, 
That  may  content  thee ;  thou  malt  haue  it  Shore. 

Shore.     Indeed,  this  were  fome  comfort  to  a  man 
That  tailed  want  or  worldly  mifery  ; 
But  I  haue  lofl  what  wealth  cannot  returne. 
All  worldly  loffes  are  but  toys  to  mine  : 

0  all  my  wealth — the  lofs  of  thee  was  more 
Than  euer  time  or  fortune  can  reftore. 

Therefore,  fweet  Jane  farewell,  once  thou  wafl  mine  ; 
Too  rich  for  me  ;  and  that  King  Edward  knew. 
Adieu,  O  world,  he  mail  deceiued  be, 
That  puts  his  truft  in  women  or  in  thee.  Exit. 

Jane.     O  Shore,  farewell,  poor  heart ;  in  death  He 
tell 

1  euer  loued  thee,  Shore,  farewell,  farewell.  Exit. 

Enter  King  Edward,  Lord  Maior,  Howard,  Sellinger, 
and  the  traine. 

King.     Hauing  awakt  forth  of  their  fleepy  dens 
Our  drowfy  cannons,  which,  ere  long,  mail  charm 
The  watchful  French  with  deaths  eternall  fleepe ; 
And  all  things  elfe  in  readineffe  for  France, 
Awhile  we  will  giue  truce  vnto  our  care. 
There  is  a  merry  tanner  neare  at  hand, 
With  whom  we  meane  to  be  a  little  merry. 
Therefore,  Lord  Maior,  and  you,  my  other  friendes, 
I  mufl  intreate  you  not  to  knowledge  me. 


86  The  firfi  part  of 

No  man  ftand  bare — all  as  companions. 

Giue  a  cloke,  that  I  may  be  difguifde. 

Tom  Sellinger,  go  thou  and  take  another. 

So  Tanner,  now  come  when  ye  pleafe  ;  we  are  pro- 

uided. 
And  in  good  time  j  fee  he  is  come  already. 

Enter  the  Tanner. 

Tom  Sellinger ;  go  thou  and  meet  him. 

Set,     What  John  Hobs  \  welcome,  ifaith,  to  Court. 

Hobs.     Gramercies,  honeft  Tom  :  where  is  the  hang 
man,  Nedl 
Where  is  that  mad  rafcal  ?  mail  I  not  fee  him  1 

Sel.     See  where  he  ftands  :  that  fame  is  he. 

Hobs.  What  Ned%  a  plague  found  thee,  how  doft 
thou,  for  a  villaine  ?  how  doft  thou  mad  rogue  ?  and 
how  ?  and  how  1 

King.     In  health  John  Hobs  ;  and  very  glad  to  fee 

thee; 
But  fay,  what  wind  droue  thee  to  London  1 

Hobs.  Ah, 'Ned,  I  was  brought  hither  with  a  whirl- 
winde,  man  :  my  fon,  my  fon ;  did  I  not  tell  thee  I 
had  a  knaue  to  my  fon  1 

King.     Yes,  tanner  ;  what  of  him  ? 

Hobs.  Faith,  he's  in  Capperdochy,  Ned,  in  Stafford 
Jaile,  for  a  robbery ;  and  is  like  to  be  hanged,  except 
thou  get  the  King  to  be  more  miferable  to  him. 

King.     If  that  be  all,  tanner,  lie  warrant  him, 
I  will  procure  his  pardon  of  the  King. 

Hobs.  Wilt  thou,  Ned  ?  for  thofe  good  words,  fee 
what  my  daughter  Nell  hath  fent  thee  :  a  handkercher 
wrought  with  as  good  Couentry-filk  blue  thread,  as 
euer  thou  faweft. 

King.     And  I  perhaps  may  weare  it,  for  her  fake, 
In  better  prefence  then  thou  art  aware  of. 

Hobs.  Now,  Ned*[  a  better  prefent,  that  thou  canfl 
not  haue,  for  filk,  cloth,  and  workmanfhip.  Why,  Nell 
made  it,  man.  But,  Ned,  is  not  the  King  in  this  com- 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  8  7 

pany  1  What's  he  in  the  long  beard  and  the  red  petti' 
coate?  Before  God,  I  mifdoubt,  Ned,  that  is  the 
King.  I  knowe  it  by  my  Lord  What-ye-call's  players. 

King.     How  by  them,  tanner  ? 

Hobs.  Euer  when  they  play  an  enterlout  or  a  com 
modity  at  Tamworth,  the  King  alwaies  is  in  a  long 
bearde  and  a  red  gowne,  like  him.  Therefore  I  fpedl 
him  to  be  the  King. 

King.     No  truft  me  tanner,  this  is  not  the  King ; 
But  thou  (halt  fee  the  King  before  thou  goeft, 
This  man  is  the  Lord  Maior,  Lord  Maior  of  London. 
Here  was  the  Recorder  too  ;  but  he  is  gone. 

Hobs.  What  nicknames  thefe  courtnols  haue  ! 
Mare  and  Corder,  quotha  !  we  haue  no  fuch  at  Lich- 
field.  There  is  the  honeft  Bailiff  and  his  brethren. 
Such  words  gree  beft  with  vs. 

King.     My  lord  Maior,  I  pray  ye,  for  my  fake, 
To  bid  this  honeft  tanner  welcome. 

Maior.    You  are  welcome,  my  honeft  friend. 
In  figne  whereof,  I  pray  you  fee  my  houfe, 
And  fup  with  me  this  night. 

Hobs.  I  thanke  ye,  Goodman  Maior;  but  I  care 
not  for  no  meat.  My  ftomach  is  like  to  a  ficke 
fwines,  that  will  neither  eate  nor  drinke  till  me  knowe 
what  mail  become  of  her  pig.  Ned  and  Tom,  you  pro- 
mifed  me  a  good  turn  when  I  came  to  Court.  Either 
do  it  now,  or  go  hang  yourfelues. 

King.     No  fooner  comes  the  King,  but  I  will  do  it. 

Sel.     I  warrant  thee,  tanner;  fear  not  thy  fonnes 
life. 

Hobs.     Nay  I  feare  not  his  life,  I  fear  his  death. 

Enter  Maifter  of  S.  Katharines  and  Widow 
Norton. 


Majler.    All  health  and  happinefs  to  my  foueraign  ! 
King.     The  Maifter  of  S.  Katharines  hath  marred 
all. 


88  The  fir/I  part  of 

Hobs.     Out,  alas  that  euer  I  was  born. 

The  Tanner  falls  into  afwound'.  they  labour  to  reuiue 
him,  meanwhile  the  King  puts  on  his  royal  robes. 

King.     Looke   to   the   tanner  there,  he  takes  no 

harm. 
I  would  not  haue  him  (for  my  crown)  mifcany. 

Widow.     Let  me  come  to  him,  by  my  Kings  good 

leaue. 
Here's  ginger,  honeft  man  j  bite  it. 

Hobs.  Bite  ginger,  bite  ginger,  bite  a  dogs  date.  I 
I  am  but  a  dead  man.  Ah,  my  liege  that  you  mould 
deal  fo  with  a  poor  well-meaning  man  :  but  it  makes 
no  matter  ;  1  can  but  die. 

King.     But  when,  tanner  ?  canft  thou  tell  1 

Hobs.  Nay,  euen  when  you  pleafe ;  for  I  haue  fo 
defended  ye,  by  calling  ye  plaine  Ned,  mad  rogue,  and 
rafcal,  that  I  know  youle  haue  me  hanged.  Therefore, 
make  no  more  ado,  but  fend  me  down  to  Stafford,  and 
there,  a  Gods  name,  hang  me  with  my  fon.  And  heres 
another  as  honefl  as  yourfelf.  You  made  me  call  him 
plaine  Tom  :  I  warrant,  his  name  is  Thomas,  and  fome 
man  of  worftiip  too.  Therefore,  lets  to  it,  euen  when 
and  where  ye  will. 

King.     Tanner,  attend  !     Not  only  do  we  pardon 

thee, 

But  in  all  princely  kindneffe  welcome  thee  ; 
And  thy  fonnes  trefpaffe  do  .we  pardon  too. 
One  go  and  fee  that  forthwith  it  be  drawn 
Vnder  our  feal  of  England,  as  it  ought. 
And  forty  pounds  we  giue  thee,  to  defray 
Thy  charges  in  thy  coming  vp  to  London. 
Now,  tanner,  what  faifl  thou  to  vs  ? 

Hobs.  Marry,  you  fpeak  like  an  honefl  man,  if  you 
mean  what  you  fay. 

King.     We  mean  it,  tanner,  on  our  royal  word. 
Now,  Maifter  of  S.  Katharines,  what  would  you  ? 

Maifler.     My  gracious  lord,  the  great  beneuolence 
(Though  fmall  to  that  your  fubiecls  could  afford) 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  89 

Of  poor  S.  Katharines  do  I  bring  your  grace. 
Fiue  hundred  pounds  here  haue  they  fent  by  me, 
For  the  eafier  portage,  all  in  angel  gold. 
What  this  good  widdowe,  miftriffe  Norton,  will, 
She  comes  herfelf,  and  brings  her  gift  with  her. 

Widow.     Pardon  me,  gracious  lord,  prefumption, 
Nor  ouerweening  in  mine  owne  conceite, 
Makes  me  thus  bolde  to  fome  before  your  grace ; 
But  loue  and  duty  to  your  maieflie, 
And  great  defire  to  fee  my  lord  the  King. 
Our  Maifter,  here,  fpake  of  beneuolence, 
And  faid  my  twenty  nobles  was  enough. 
I  thought  not  fo  ;  but  at  your  highnefs  feete, 
A  widows  mite,  a  token  of  her  zeale, 
In  humble  duty  giues  you  twenty  pound. 

King.     Now  by  my  crowne,  a  gallant  lufty  girle. 
Of  all  the  exhibition  yet  beflowed, 
This  womans  liberality  likes  me  beft. 
Is  thy  name  Norton  ? 

Widow.     I,  my  gracious  liege. 

King.     How  long  haft  thou  been  a  widow  ? 

Widow.     It  is,  my  lord, 
Since  I  did  bury  Wilkin>  my  good  man, 
At  Shrouetide  next,  euen  juft  a  dozen  yeares. 

King.     In  all  which  fpace,  couldfl  thou  not  finde  a 

man, 
On  whom  thou  mightft  beftowe  thyfelf  againe  1 

Widow.     Not  anie  like  my   Wilkin,  whofe  deare 

loue 

I  knowe  is  matchleffe  :  in  refpec"l  of  whom 
I  thinke  not  any  worthy  of  a  kifs. 

Kmg.     No,  widow  ?  that  He  try.     How  like  you 
this  1  He  kiffeth  her. 

Widow.     Belhrew  my  heart,  it  was  a  honey  kifs, 
Able  to  make  an  aged  woman  young ; 
And  for  the  fame,  moft  fweete  and  louely  prince, 
See  what  the  widow  giues'you  from  her  ftore, 
Forty  olde  angels,  but  for  one  kifs  more. 


90  King  Edward  the  fourth. 

King.     Marry,  widow,  and  thou  fhalt  haue  it.    Jo) 
Hobs,  thou  art  a  widower  :  lackft  thou  fuch  a  wife  1 

Hobs.  Snails,  twenty  pound  akiffe1?  Had  fhe  as 
many  twenty  pound  bags  as  I  haue  knobs  of  barke  in 
my  tan-fat,  me  might  kiffe  them  away  in  a  quarter  of  a 
year.  He  no  S.  Katharines  widows,  if  kiffes  be  fo 
dear. 

Widow.  Clubs  and  clouted  fhoes,  there's  none 
enamoured  here. 

King.     Lord   Maior,  we   thanke   you,  and  intreat 

withall 

To  recommend  vs  to  our  Citizens. 
We  mufl  for  France.     We  bid  you  all  farewell. 
Come  tanner  thou  malt  go  with  vs  to  Court ; 
To  morrow  you  mall  dine  with  my  lord  Maior, 
And  afterward  fet  homeward  when  ye  pleafe. 
God  and  our  right  that  only  fight  for  vs, 
Adieu,  pray  that  our  toile  proue  profperous. 

Exeunt. 


FINIS. 


THE    SECOND 

PART  OF  KING  EDWARD 
THE  FOURTH. 

Containing 

his  iourney  into  France,  for  the  obtaining  of 
his  right  there  t 

The  trecherous  falfhood  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 

gundie  and  the  Conftable  of  France 

vfed  againft  him,  and  his 

returne  home 

againe. 

Likewife  the  profecution  of  the  hiftorie  of  M. 
Shoare  and  his  faire  wife. 

Concluding  with  the  lamentable  death  of  them 
both. 


Enter  King  Edward,  Howard,  Sellinger,  and  Souldiers 
marching. 

King.     Is  this  the  aide  our  coufm  Burgundy 
And  the  great  Conflable  of  France  affured  us  1 
Haue  we  marcht  thus  far  through  the  heart  of  France, 
And  with  the  terrour  of  our  Englifh  drummes 
Roufed  the  poore  trembling  French,  which  leaue  their 

townes, 
That  now  the  wolues  affrighted  from  the  fieldes 


92  The  fecond  part  of 

Do  get  their  prey,  and  kennell  in  the  ftreetes  ? 
Our  thundering  cannons,  now  this  fortnight  fpace, 
Like  common  bellmen  in  fome  market  towne, 
Haue  cride  the  Conftable  and  Burgundy  \ 
But  yet  I  fee  they  come  not  to  our  aide. 
Wele  bring  them  in,  or  by  the  bleffed  light, 
Wele  fearch  the  ground  fills  of  their  cities  walls. 
Since  you  haue  brought  me  hither,  I  will  make 
The  proudefl  tower  that  Hands  in  France  to  quake. 
I  maruel  much  that  Scales  returnes  not  j  for  by  him 
I  doe  expect  to  heare  their  refolutions. 

Enter  the  Lord  Scales. 

How.     My  foueraign,  he  is  happily  returned. 

King.     Welcome,  my  lord ;   welcome,  good  oofm 

Scales. 

What  newes  from  Burgundy  1  what  is  his  anfwer  ? 
What,  comes  he  to  our  fuccour,  as  he  promifed  ? 

Scales.     Not  by  his  good  will.     For  ought  that  I 

can  fee, 

He  lingers  flill  in  his  long  fiege  at  Nufe. 
I  vrged  his  promife  and  your  expectation, 
Euen  to  the  force  and  compaffe  of  my  fpirit. 
I  cheerd  my  firme  perfuafions  with  your  hopes, 
And  guilded  them  with  my  befl  oratory  : 
I  framed  my  fpeech  flill  fitly,  as  I  found 
The  temper  of  his  humor  to  be  wrought  vpon  j 
But  flill  I  found  him  earthly,  vnrefolued, 
Muddie ;  and,  methought,  euer  through  his  eyes, 
I  faw  his  wauering  and  vnfettled  fpirit ; 
And,  to  be  fhort,  fubtle  and  trecherous, 
And  one  that  doth  intend  no  good  to  you. 
And  he  will  come,  and  yet  he  wanteth  power  ; 
He  would  faine  come,  but  may  not  leaue  the  fiege, 
He  hopes  he  mall,  but  yet  he  knows  not  when, 
He  purpofed,  but  fome  impediments 
Haue  hinderd  his  determined  intent. 
Briefly,  I  thinke  he  will  not  come  at  all. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  93 

King.     But  is  he  like  to  take  the  town  of  Nufe  ? 

Scales.     My  lord,  the  town  is  liker  to  take  him ; 
That,  if  he  chance  to  come  to  you  at  all, 
Tis  but  for  fuccour. 

King.     But  what  faies  Count  S.  Paull 

Scales.     My  lord,  he  lies  and  reuels  at  S.  Quintins, 
And  laughs  at  Edwards  coming  into  France. 
There  domineiring  with  his  drunken  crewe, 
Make  jigs  of  vs,  and  in  their  flauering  iefts 
Tell  how  like  rogues  we  lie  here  in  the  field. 
Then  comes  a  ilaue,  one  of  thefe  drunken  fots, 
In  with  a  tauern-reckoning  for  a  fupplication, 
Difguifed  with  a  cufhion  on  his  head, 
A  drawers  apron  for  a  heralds  coate, 
And  tells  the  Count,  the  King  of  England  craues 
One  of  his  worthy  honours  dog-kennels, 
To  be  his  lodging  for  a  day  or  two. 
With  fome  fuch  other  tauern-foolery. 
With  that,  this  filthie,  rafcall,  greafie  rout 
Burft  out  in  laughter  at  this  worthie  ieft, 
Naighing  like  horfes.     Thus  the  Count  S.  Paul 
Regards  his  promife  to  your  maieftie. 

King,     Will  no  man  thruil  the  flaue  into  a  fack- 
butl 

Sel.     Now,  by  this   light,   were   I   but  neare  the 

flaue 
With  a  blacke  iacke,  I  would  beate  out  his  braines. 

How.     If  it  pleafe  your  highneffe  but  to  fay  the 

word, 
Wele  pluck  him  out  of  Quintins  by  the  eares. 

King.      No,    coufin    Howard ;    wele    referue    our- 

valour 

For  better  purpofe.     Since  they  both  refufe  vg, 
Ourfelues  will  be  vnriualld.  in  our  honour. 
Now  our  firft  carl,  my  Lord,  is  at  maine  France, 
Whilft  yet  our  army  is  in  health  and  ftrong ; 
And,  haue  we  once  but  broke  into  that  war, 
I  will  not  leaue  S.  Paul,  nor 


94  The  fecond  part  of 

Not  a  bare  pigs- cote  to  fhroud  them  in. 
Herald. 

Her.     My  foueraign  ! 

King.     Go,   herald,   and    to   Lewis,    the    French 

king, 

Denounce  flern  war,  and  tell  him  I  am  come 
To  take  poffeffion  of  my  realme  of  France. 
Dene  him  boldly  from  vs.     Be  thy  voice 
As  fierce  as  thunder,  to  affright  his  foule. 
Herald,  begone,  I  fay,  and  be  thy  breath 
Piercing  as  lightning,  and  thy  words  as  death. 

Her.     I  goe,  my  liege,  refolud  to  your  high  will. 

Exit. 

King.     Sound  drumme,  I  fay ;  fet  forward  with  our 

powre ; 

And,  France,  ere  long  expect  a  dreadful  houre  ! 
I  will  not  take  the  Englifh  ftandards  down, 
Till  thou  empale  my  temples  with  thy  crowne. 


Enter  Lewis  the  French  King,  Bourbon,  and  St.  Pierre, 
with  the  Herald  of  England. 

Lewis.     Herald   of  England,   we   are    pleafed    to 

heare 

What  meffage  thou  haft  brought  vs  from  thy  King. 
Prepare  thyfelf,  and  be  aduifed  in  fpeech. 

Her.     Right  gratious  and  moft  Chriftian  King  of 

France  ! 

I  come  not  to  thy  prefence  vnprepared 
To  do  the  meffage  of  my  royal  liege. 
Edward  the  Fourth,  of  England  and  of  France 
The  lawful  King,  and  Lord  of  Ireland, 
Whofe  puiffant  magnanimious  breaft  incenfed, 
Through  manifefl  notorious  iniuries, 
Offerd  by  thee,  King  Lewis,  and  thy  French, 
Againft  his  title  to  the  crowne  of  France, 
And  right  in  all  thefe  dukedomes  following, 
y  Anjou,  Guy  en,  Aguileme, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  95 

Breathes  forth  by  me,  the  organ  of  his  fpeech, 
Hoflile  defiance  to  thy  realme  and  thee. 
And  trampling  now  vpon  the  face  of  France 
With  barbed  horfe  and  valiant  armed  foote, 
Himfelf  the  leader  of  thofe  martiall  troopes, 
Bids  thee  to  battle,  where  and  when  thou  darfl, 
Except  thou  make  fuch  reflitution 
And  yearely  tribute  on  good  hoflages, 
As  may  content  his  iuft  concerned  wrath. 
And  to  this  mefiage  anfwer  I  expec"l. 

Lew.     Right  peremptory  is  this  embaffage  ; 
And  were  my  roiall  brother  of  England  pleafed 
To  entertaine  thofe  kinde  affections 
Wherewith  we  do  imbrace  his  amity, 
Needleffe  were  all  thefe  thunder-threatning  wordes. 
Let  Heauen,  where  all  our  thoughts  are  regifterd, 
Beare  record  with  what  deepe  defire  of  peace 
We  mall  fubfcribe  to  fuch  conditions 
As  equity  for  England  mail  propound. 
If  Edward rhaue  fuftained  wrong  in  France, 
Lewis  was  neuer  authour  of  that  wrong ; 
Yet,  faultlefs,  we  will  make  due  recompenfe. 
We  are  affurd  that  his  maieflick  thoughts, 
In  his  mild  fpirit,  did  neuer  mean  thefe  warres, 
Till  Charles  Burgundy,  once  our  fawning  friend, 
But  now  our  open  foe,  and  Count  S.  Paul, 
Our  fubiect  once  and  Conftable  of  France, 
But  now  a  traitour  to  our  realme  and  vs, 
Were  motiues  to  incite  him  vnto  armes, 
Which  hauing  done,  will  leaue  him,  on  my  life. 

Her.     The  King  my  maifler  reckes  not  Burgundy, 
And  fcorns  S.  Paul,  that  trechrous  Conftable. 
His  puiffance  is  fufficient  in  itfelf 
To  conquer  France,  like  his  progenitors. 

Lew.     He  mall  not  neede  to  wafte  by  force   of 

warre, 

Where  peace  mall  yeeld  him  more  then  he  can  win. 
We  couet  peace,  and  we  will  purchafe  it 
At  any  rate  that  reafon  can  demand. 


96  The  Jecond  part  of 

And  it  is  better  England  ioin  in  league 

With  vs,  his  ftrong,  old,  open  enemy, 

Than  with  thofe  weake  and  new  diffembling  friends. 

We  do  fecure  vs  from  our  open  foes, 

But  trufl  in  friendes  (though  faithleffe)  we  repofe. 

My  Lord  S,  Pierre  and  coufin  Bourbon,  fpeake. 

What  cenfure  you  of  Burgundy  and  S.  Paul  ? 

St.  Pierre.     Dread   Lord,  it  is   well    known  that 

Burgundy 

Made  mow  of  tender  feruice  to  your  maiefly, 
Till  by  the  engine  of  his  flatteries, 
He  made  a  breach  into  your  Highneffe  loue  ; 
Where  enterd  once  and  thereof  full  poffeft, 
He  fo  abufd  that  royal  excellence 
By  getting  footing  into  manie  towns, 
Caftles,  and  forts,  belonging  to  your  crowne, 
That  now  he  holds  them  gainil  your  realme  and  you. 

Bur.     And   Count     S.   Paul,    the    Conftable    of 

France, 

Ambitious  in  that  high  authority, 
Vfurps  the  lands  and  feigneuries  of  thofe 
That  are  true  fubiecls,  noble  peers  of  France. 
Your  boundleffe  fauours  did  him  firft  fuborne ; 
And  now  to  be  your  liegeman  he  thinkes  fcorne. 

Lew.     By  this  coniec~ture  the  vnfteady  courfe 
Thy  royal  maifler  vndertakes  in  France  : 
And  herald  intimate  what  feruent  zeale 
We  haue  to  league  with  Edward  and  his  Englifti. 
Three  hundreth  crownes  we  giue  thee  for  reward, 
And  of  rich  crimfon  veluet  thirty  yardes, 
In  hope  thou  wilt  vnto  thy  foueraign  tell 
We  mow  thee  not  one  difcontented  looke, 
Nor  render  him  one  misbeholden  word  ; 
But  his  defiance  and  his  dare  to  warre, 
We  fwallow  with  the  fupple  oile  of  peace ; 
Which  gentle  herald  if  thou  canft  procure, 
A  thoufand  crowns  mall  iuflly  guerdon  thee. 

Her.     So  pleafe  it  your  moft  facred  maiefly, 
To  fend  vnto  my  gracious  Soueraign 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  97 

Equall  conditions  for  the  bonds  of  peace 

And  reflitution  of  his  iniuries, 

His  temper  is  not  of  obdurate  malice, 

But  fweete  relenting  princely  clemency. 

Performe  your  promife  of  a  thoufand  crownes, 

And  fecond  me  with  fome  fit  meiTenger, 

And  I  will  vndertake  to  worke  your  peace. 

Lew.     By  the  true  honor  of  a  Chriftian  king, 
Effect  our  peace,  and  thou  malt  haue  our  crownes. 
And  we  will  poft  a  herald  after  thee, 
That  mail  confirm  thy  fpeech  and  our  defignes. 
Go,  Mugeroun ;  fee  to  this  herauld  giuen 
The  veluet  and  three  hundreth  crownes  propofed. 
Farewell,  good  friend,  remember  our  requeft, 
And  kindly  recommend  vs  to  King  Edward. 

Exeunt  Engli/Ji  Herald  and  Mugeroun. 
How  think  you  lords  1  is't  not  more  requifite 
To  make  our  peace,  then  war  with  Englands  power  ? 

Bour.     Yes,  gracious  Lord ;  the  wounds  are  bleed 
ing  yet 

That  Talbot,  Bedford,  and  King  Henry  made, 
Which  peace  muft  cure,  or  France  (hall  languifh  flill. 

S.  Pierre.     Befides    my   liege,   by   thefe   inteftine 

foes, 

The  Conftable  and  trecherous  Burgundy, 
The  States  in  danger,  if  the  Englifh  flir. 

Enter  Mugeroun. 

Lew.     Tis  perilous  and  full  of  doubt,  my  lords  ; 
We  muft  haue  peace  with  England  euerie  way. 
Who  mail  be  herald  in  thefe  high  affaires  1 

Bur.     No  better  man  then  Monfieur  Mugeroun, 
Whofe  wit  is  fharp,  whofe  eloquence  is  found ; 
His  prefence  gracious,  and  his  courage  good ; 
A  gentleman,  a  fcholar,  and  a  fouldier ; 
A  compleate  man  for  fuch  an  embaffage. 
Art  thou  content  to  be  emploied,  Mugeroun^ 
In  this  negotiation  to  King  Edward"* 


98  The  fecond  part  of 

Mug.     If  your  moft  facred  maieflie  command, 
Your  humble  vaffall  Mugeroun  mall  goe. 

Lew.      Gramercies,    Mugeroun.       But    thou    muft 

affume 

A  heralds  habit,  and  his  office  both, 
To  pleade  our  loue,  and  to  procure  vs  peace 
With  Englifh  Edward,  for  the  good  of  France. 

Mug.     I  know  the  matter  and  the  form,  my  Lord. 
Giue  me  my  Heralds  Coat,  and  I  am  gone. 

Lew.     Thou  art  a  man  compofed  for  bufmefs. 
Attend  on  vs  for  thy  inftruclions, 
And  other  fit  fupplies  for  thefe  affaires  ; 
And  for  thy  diligence  expecl  reward.  Exeunt. 

Enter  feueral  waies,  Burgundy  and  the  Conftable  of 
France. 

Con.     Whither  away  fo  fad  goes  Burgundy  ? 

Bur.     Nay  rather  whither  goes  the  Conftable  ? 

Con.     Why,   to  King  Edward,  man.      Is   he   not 

come? 
Meanft  thou  not  likewife  to  goe  vifit  him  ? 

Bur.     Oh,  excellent.     I  knowe  that  in  thy  foule 
Thou  knowft  that  I  doe  purpofe  nothing  leffe. 
Nay,  I  do  knowe,  for  all  thy  outward  Ihowe, 
Thou  haft  no  meaning  once  to  looke  on  him. 
Brother  diffembler,  leaue  this  colouring, 
With  him  that  means  as  falfely  as  thyfelf. 

Con.     I,    but   thou   knowft  that   Edward  on   onr 

letters, 

And  hoping  our  affiftance  when  he  came, 
Did  make  this  purpofd  voyage  into  France', 
And  with  his  forces  is  he  heere  arriued, 
Trufting  that  we  will  keepe  our  word  with  him. 
Now  though  we  meane  it  not,  yet  fet  a  face 
Vpon  the  matter  as  though  we  intended 
To  keepe  our  word  with  him  effectually. 

Bur.     And  for  my  better  countnance  in  this  cafe, 
My  lingring  fiege  at  Nufe  will  ferue  the  turne. 


King  Edward  the  foitrth.  99 

There  will  I  fpend  the  time  to  clifappoint 

King  Edwards  hope  of  my  conioining  with  him. 

Con.    And  I  will  keepe  me  ftill  here  in  S.  Quintins, 
Pretending  mighty  matters  for  his  aide, 
But  not  performing  any,  on  my  word. 
The  rather  Burgundy,  becaufe  I  aime  \  AH 

At  matters  which  perhaps  may  coft  your  head,  \this 
If  all  hit  right  to  expectation.  J  afide, 

In  the  meane  fpace,  like  a  good  crafty  knaue, 
That  hugs  the  man  he  wilheth  hangd  in  heart, 
Keep  I  faire  weather  ftill  with  But -gundy y 
Till  matters  fall  out  for  my  purpofe  fit. 
la,  font  monfecrets,  beau  temps  pour  moy. 

Bur.     Id,  font  monfecrets,  beau  temps  pour  moy. 
Are  ye  fo  crafty  Conftable  ?  proceede,  proceede, 
You  quicke,  Iharpe  fighted  man,  imagine  me 
Blind e,  witleffe,  and  a  filly  ideot, 
That  pries  not  into  all  your  policies. 
Who,  I  ?  no.  God  doth  knowe.  my  fimple  wit 
Can  neuer  found  a  judgment  of  fuch  reach, 
As  in  our  cunning  Conftable  of  France. 
Perfuade  thyfelf  fo  ftill,  and  when  time  ferues, 
And  that  thou  art  in  mod  extremity, 
Needing  my  helpe,  then  take  thou  heede  of  me  ; 
In  meane  while,  fir,  you  are  the  onely  man 
That  hath  my  heart  ?     Hath  ?     I,  and  great  reafon 

too. 

Thus  it  befits  men  of  deep  reach  to  do. 
Well,  Conftable  youle  back  again  to  Nufe, 
And  not  aide  Englifh  Edwardl 

Con.     What  elfe,  man  ? 
And  keepe  thee  in  St.  Quintins :  fo  (hall  we 
Smile  at  King  Edwards  weake  capacity.  Exeunt. 

Enter  King  Edward,  with  Burgundy,  Howard, 
Sellinger,  and  Scales. 

King.     Tell  me  not  Burgundie  tis  I  am  wrongd ; 

H  2 


ioo  The  fecond  part  of 

And  you  haue  dealt  like  a  difloyall  knight1 

Bur.      Edward  of    England,   thefe   are   vnkingly 

words. 
KinQ     He  that  will  do,  my  lord,  what  he  fhould 

not, 

Mud  and  mall  heare  of  me  what  he  would  not, 
I  fay  againe,  you  haue  deluded  me. 

Bur.     Am  I  not  come  according  to  my  word  ? 
King.     No,   Charles  of  Burgundy  \    thy  word  was 

giu  en 

To  meet  with  me  in  Aprill ;  now  tis  Augufl ; 
The  place  appointed,  Cales,  not  Lorraine ; 
And  thy  approach  to  be  with  martiall  troopes ; 
But  thou  art  come,  not  hauing  in  thy  traine 
So  much  as  page  or  lackey  to  attend  thee. 
As  who  ihould  fay  thy  prefence  were  munition, 
And  ftrength  enough  to  anfwer  our  expect. 
Summer  is  almoft  fpent,  yet  nothing  done. 
And  all  by  dalliance  with  vncertaine  hope. 

Bur.     My  forces  lay  before  the  citie  Nufe. 
From  which  I  could  not  rife  but  with  dishonour, 
Vnleffe  vpon  fome  compofition  had. 

King.     There   was    no    fuch    exception    in    your 

letters. 
Why  fmiles  Lord  Scales  ? 

Scales.     My  man  reports,  my  Lord, 
The  compofition  that  the  Duke  there  made 
Was  meere  compulfion  ;  for  the  cittizens 
Draue  him  from  thence  perforce. 

King.     I  thought  fo  much. 
We  mould  not  yet  haue  feene  your  Excellence, 
But  that  your  heeles  were  better  then  your  hands. 
Bur.     Lord  Scales,  thou  dofl  me  wrong  to  flander 

me. 
King.      Letting  that  pafle,   it  (hall  be   feene,   my 

Lord, 

That  we  are  able  of  ourfelfe  to  claime 
Our  right  in  France,  without  or  your  affiftance 


King  Edward  the  fourth .          i  o  i 

Or  anie  others,  but  the  helpe  of  Heauen. 

Bur.     I  make  no  queftion    of  it :    yet  the  Con- 

flable, 

Prefl  with  no  fuch  occafion  as  I  was, 
Might  haue  excufd  vs  both,  if  he  had  pleafed. 

King*     Accufe  him  not.     Your  Cities,  as  we  came, 
Were  euen  as  much  to  be  condemned  as  his. 
They  gaue  vs  leaue  to  lye  within  the  field, 
And  fcarcely  would  affoord  vs  meat  for  money. 
This  was  imall  friendship,  in  refpecfl  of  that 
You  had  engagd  your  honour  to  performe. 
But  march  we  forward  as  we  were  determined. 
This  is  S.  QuintinS)  where  you  fay,  my  Lord, 
The  Conftable  is  ready  to  receiue  vs. 

Bur.     So  much  he  fignified  to  me  my  letter. 

King.     Well,  we  (hall  fee  his  entertainment.     For 
ward  ! 

As  they  march  vpon  the  Jlage,  the  Lord  Scales  is  Jlrucke 
downe,  and  two  Souldiers  flaineoutright,  with  great 
JJiotfrom  the  towne. 

Fly  to  our  main  battalia  ;  bid  them  (land. 
Theres  treafon  plotted :  fpeake  to  me,  Lord  Scales  j 
Or  if  there  be  no  power  of  life  remaining 
To  vtter  thy  hearts  grieuance,  make  a  figne. 
Two  of  our  common  fouldiers  flaine  befide  ! 
This  is  hard  welcome.     But  it  was  not  you, 
At  whom  the  fatall  enginer  did  aime : 
My  bread  the  leuell  was,  though  you  the  marke  : 
In  which  confpiracy,  anfwer  me,  Duke, 
Is  not  thy  foule  as  guilty  as  the  Earles  1 

Bur.     Perifti,  my  foule,  King  Edward,  if  I  knew 
Of  any  fuch  intention.     Yet  I  did, 
And  grieue  that  it  hath  fped  no  otherwife. 

King.     Howard  and  Sellinger 

Burgundy  Jleales  away. 
What  is  there  hope  of  life  in  none  of  them  ? 

How.     The  fouldiers  are  both  flaine  outright,  my 
Lord, 


iO2  The Jecond part  of 

But  the  Lord  Scales  a  little  is  recouerd. 

Kins;.     Conuey  his  body  to  our  pauilion, 
And  let  our  Surgeons  vfe  all  diligence 
They  can  deuife  for  faueguard  of  his  life, 
Whilft  we  with  all  extremity  of  warre 
Go    plague    S.    Quintins.      Howard    fetch    on    our 

powers, 

We  will  not  ftir  a  foot  till  we  haue  fhowne 
Juft  vengeance  on  the  Conftable  of  France. 
1  Oh,  God,  to  wooe  vs  firft  to  pafs  the  fea, 
And  at  our  coming  thus  to  halt  with  vs  ! 
I  think  the  like  thereof  was  neuer  feen. 
But  wheres  the  Duke  1 

SeL  Gone,  as  it  feemes,  my  Lord, 
Stept  fecretly  away,  as  one  that  knew 
His  confcience  would  accufe  him  if  he  flaid. 

King.     A  pair  of  moft  difiembling  hypocrites, 
Is  he  and  this  bafe  Earle,  on  whom  I  vowe, 
Leauing  King  Lewis  vnpreiudizd  in  peace, 
To  fpend  the  whole  meafure  of  my  kindled  rage. 
Their  ftreets  fhall  fweate  with  their  effufed  blood, 
And  this  bright  funne  be  darkend  with  the  unoke 
Of  fmouldring  cinders,  when  their  city  lies 
Buried  in  ames  of  reuengefull  fire  : 
On  whofe  pale  fuperficies,  in  the  fteade 
Of   parchment,    with    my    lance    He    drawe     thefe 

lines 

Edward  of  England  left  this  memory, 
In  iujl  reuenge  of  hatefull  treachery. 

Enter  Howard  againe. 

Lord  Howard,  haue  ye  done  as  I  commanded  ? 

How.     Our  battles  are  difpofd ;  and  on  the  browe 
Of  euery  inferiour  feruitour,  my  lord, 
You  might  behold  deftruclion  figured, 
Greedily  thirfling  to  beginne  the  fight ; 
But  when  no  longer  they  might  be  reflraind, 
And  that  the  drumme  and  trumpet  both  beganne 
To  found  warres  cheerfull  harmony,  behold 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  103 

A  flag  of  truce  vpon  the  walls  was  hangd, 
And  forth  the  gates  did  iffue  meekly  pacde, 
Three  men,  whereof  the  Conftable  is  one  ;  . 
The  other  two,  the  gunner  and  his  mate, 
By  whofe  grofs  ouerfight  (as  they  report) 
This  fuddaine  chance  vn wittingly  befell. 

King.     Bring   forth    the    Conftable.      The    other 

two, 
See  them  fafe-guarded  till  you  know  our  pleafure. 

Enter  the  Conftable. 

Now,  my  Lord  Howard,  how  is  it  with  Scales  ? 

How.     Well,  my  dread  Soueraigne,  now  his  wound 

is  dreft. 

And  by  the  opinion  of  the  furgeons, 
Tis  thought  he  mail  not  perifti  by  this  hurt. 

King.     I  am  the  gladder.     But  unfaithfull  Earl, 
I  do  not  fee  how  yet  I  can  difpenfe 
With  thy  fubmiffion.     This  was  not  the  welcome 
Your  letters  fent  to  England  promifd  me. 

Con.     Right  high  and  mighty  prince,  condemn  me 

not, 

That  am  as  innocent  in  this  offence 
As  any  fouldier  in  the  Englifh  army. 
The  fault  is  in  our  gunners  ignorance, 
Who,  taking  you  for  Lewis,  King  of  France, 
That  likewife  is  within  the  cities  ken, 
Made  that  vnlucky  mot  to  beate  him  ^backe, 
A.nd  not  of  malice  to  your  maieftie  : 
To  knowledge  which,  I  brought  them  with  myfelf, 
And  thirty  thoufand  crownes  within  this  purfe. 
Sent  by  the  burghers  to  redeeme  your  lacke. 

King.     Conftable  of  France,  we  will    not   felle   a 

droppe 

Of  Englifh  bloud  for  all  the  gould  in  France : 
But  infomuch  two  of  our  men  are  flaine, 
To   quit   their   deaths,    thofe    two    that    came    with 
thee 


1 04  The  fecond part  of 

Shall  both  be  craramd  into  a  cannons  mouth, 

And  fo  be  (hot  into  the  towne  againe. 

It  is  not  like  but  that  they  knew  our  colors, 

And  of  fet  purpofe  did  this  villainy ; 

Nor  can  I  be  perfwaded  thoroughly 

But  that  our  perfon  was  the  marke  they  aimd  at. 

Yet  are  we  well  content  to  hold  you  excufd, 

Marie  our  foldiers  muft  be  fatisfide ; 

And,  therefore,  firfl  (hall  be  diflributed 

Thefe  crownes  amongft  them ;    then    you    (hall   re- 

turne, 

And  of  your  bed  prouifion  fende  to  vs 
Thirty  waine-load,  befide  twelue  tun  of  wine. 
This  if  the  burghers  will  fubfcribe  vnto, 
Their  peace  is  made.     Otherwife  I  will  proclaime 
Free  liberty  for  all  to  take  the  fpoile. 

Con.     Your  highnefs  (hall  be  anfwerd  prefently, 
And  I 'will  fee  thefe  articles  performd. 

King.     Yet  one  thing  more.     I  will  that  you,  my 

Lord, 

Together  with  the  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
Do  ere  to-morrow  noone,  bring  all  your  force, 
And  joine  with  ours  ;  or  elfe  we  doe  recant, 
And  thefe  conditions  (hall  be  fruftrate. 

Con.     Mine   are   at   hand,   my  lord ;    and  I  will 

write 
-The  Duke  may  likewife  be  in  readineffe. 

King.     Let  him   haue   fafe-conducl    through     our 

army. 

And,  gainft  the  morning,  euery  leader  fee 
His  troops  be  furnifht.     For  no  longer  time, 
God  willing,  the  trial  (hall  be  deferred 
Twixt  Lewis  and  vs.     What  echoing  found  is  this  ? 
Set.     A  gentleman  from  the  King  of  France,  my 

Lord, 

Craues  parlance  with  your  Excellence. 
King.     A  gentleman,  bring  him  in. 
What  news,  a  Gods  name,  from  our  brother  Lewis  1 


King  Edward  the  foiirth.          105 


Enter  Mugeroun. 

Mug.     Mod  puiffant  and  moft  honorable  King, 
My  royall  mailer,  Lewis,  the  King  of  France, 
Doth  greete  your  highneffe  with  vnfaigned  loue, 
Wifhing  your  health  profperity,  and  rule  ; 
And  thus  he  fays  by  me  :  When  was  it  feen 
That  euer  Lewis  pretended  hurt  to  England, 
Either  by  clofe  confpirators  fent  ouer 
To  vndermine  your  flate,  or  openly 
By  taking  arms  with  purpofe  to  inuade  ? 
Nay,  when  was  it  that  Lewis  was  euer  heard 
So  much  as  to  detract  from  Edwards  name  1 
But  ftill  hath  done  him  all  his  due  of  fpeech, 
By  blazing  to  the  world  his  high  deferts 
Of  wifedom.  valour,  and  his  heroicke  birth  ? 
Whence  is  it,  then,  that  Edward  is  incenfd 
To  render  hate  for  loue,  for  amity  ftern  war  ? 
Not  of  himfelfe,  we  know  ;  but  by  the  means 
Of  fome  infectious  counfell,  that,  like  mudde 
Would  ipoile  the  pure  temper  of  his  noble  minde. 
It  is  the  Duke  and  that  pernicious  rebell, 
Earl  of  S.  Paul,  haue  fet  abroach  thefe  warres, 
Who  of  themfelues  vnable  to  proceede, 
Would  make  your  Grace  the  inftrument  of  wrong ; 
And  when  you  haue  done  what  you  can  for  them, 
You  fhall  be  fure  of  nothing  but  of  this, 
Still  to  be  doubled  and  diffembled  with. 
But  if  it  might  feem  gratious  in  your  eie 
To  cad  off  thefe  defpifd  confederates, 
Vnfit  companions  for  fo  greate  a  Prince, 
And  joine  in  league  with  Lewis,  my  royall  maifler, 
Him  fhall  you  find  as  willing  as  of  power 
To  do  your  grace  all  offices  of  loue. 
And  what  commodity  may  fpring  thereby 
To  both  the  realmes,  your  Grace  is  wife  enough, 


i  o  6  The  fecond  part  of 

Without  my  rude  fuggeftions,  to  imagine. 
Befides,  much  bloodOied  for  this  prefent  time 
Will  be  preuented  when  two  fuch  perfonages 
Shall  meete  together  to  make  hands  in  peace, 
And  not  with  mock  of  lance  and  curtel-axe. 
That  Lewis  is  willing,  I  am  his  fubflitute  ; 
And  he  himfelf  in  perfon,  if  you  pleafe, 
Not  farre  from  hence,  will  fignify  as  much. 

King.     Sir,  withdraw,  and  giue  vs  leaue  awhile 
To  take  aduifement  of  our  counfellers. 
What  fay  ye,  Lords,  vnto  this  profferd  truce  ? 

How.     In   my    conceit,    let    it    not    be    flipt,    my 
Lord. 

Sel.     Will  it  not  be  difhonor,  hauing  landed 
So  great  an  army  in  thefe  parts  of  France, 
And  not  to  fight  before  we  do  returne  ? 

How.     How  can  it  be,  when  the  enemie  fubmits, 
And  of  himfelf  makes  tender  of  allegiance  ? 

Sel.     I,  thats  the  queftion,  whether  he  will  yeeld, 
And  do  King  Edward  fealty  or  no  ? 

King.     What  talk  ye,  lords?  he  mail  fubfcribe  to 

that; 
Or  no  condition  He  accept  at  all. 

Hoiv.     Let  him  be  bound,  my -Lord,  to  pay  your 

grace, 

Toward  your  exfjenfes  fmceyour  coming  oner, 
Seuenty-fme  thoufand  crownes  of  the  funne, 
And,  yearely  after,  fifty  thoufand  more, 
During  your  life,  with  homage  therewithal!, 
That  he  doth  hold  his  roialtie  from  you ; 
And  take  his  offer  ;  twill  not  be  amiffe. 

King.     It  mail  be  fo.     Draw  you  the  articles  : 
And  Sellinger,  call  forth  the  Meffenger. 
Bring  with  thee,  too,  a  cuppe  of  maffie  gould, 
And  bid  the  bearer  of  our  priuy  purfe 
Inclofe  therein  a  hundred  Englifh  ryals. 
Friend  we  do  accept  thy  maifters  league, 
\\:  ith  no  lefs  firm  affedlion  then  he  craues  ; 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  107 

If  he  will  meet  vs  here,  betwixt  our  tents, 
It  (hall  on  both  fides  be  confirmd  by  oath, 
.  On  this  condition,  that  he  will  fubfcribe 
To  certaine  articles  fhall  be  propofed. 
And  fo  thou  haft  thy  anfwere.     To  requite 
Thy  paines  herein,  we  giue  to  thee  this  cuppe. 

Mug.     Health  and  increafe  of  honour  wait  on  Ed 
ward. 

King.     Lord  Howard  bring  the  Frenchman  on  his 

way. 

King  Lewis  is  one  that  neuer  was  precife  : 
But  nowe,  Lord  Howard  and  Tom  Selling, 
There  is  a  taske  remaines  for  you  to  do  : 
And  that  is  this  :  you  two  fhall  be  difguifed, 
And  one  of  you  repaire  to  Burgundy, 
The  other  to  the  Conftable  of  France  ; 
Where  you  fhall  learne  in  fecret,  if  you  can, 
If  they  intend  to  meete  vs  heere  to-morrow, 
Or  how  they  take  this  our  accord  with  France. 
Somewhat  it  glues'  me  you  will  bring  from  thence 
Worthy  the  noting.     Will  you  vndertake  it  1 

SeZ.     With  all  my  heart,   my  Lord.     I  am  for  Bur 
gundy. 

How.     And  I  am  for  the  Conftable  of  France. 

Exeunt. 

King.     Make  fpeede  againe.      What  newes  ? 

Mef.     The    King   of    France,   my   lord,    attended 

roially, 
Is  marching  hitherward  to  meet  your  grace. 

King.     He  fhall  be  welcome.     Haft  thou  drawne 
the  articles  ? 

Mef.     Yes,  my  dread  Soueraigne. 

King.     Go,  call  foorth  our  traine, 
We  may  receiue  him  with  like  maieftie. 


The  fecond part  of 

Enter  certaine  Noblemen  and  Soldiers,  with  drummes. 
They  march  about  the  ftage.  Then  enter  King 
Lewis  and  his  traine>  and  meet  with  King  Edward. 
The  Kings  embrace. 

A".  Lew.     My  princely  brother,    we    are    grieued 

much 

To  thinke  you  haue  been  at  fo  greate  a  charge, 
And  toild  your  royal  felfe  fo  far  from  home, 
Vpon  the  vnconflant  promife  of  thofe  men 
That  doth  diffemble  with  your  Grace  and  me. 

K.  Ed.     Brother  of  France,  you  might  condemne 

vs  rightly, 

Not  onely  of  great  wrongs  and  toils  fuflaind, 
But  of  exceeding  folly,  if,  incited, 
We  had  prefumd  to  enter  thefe  dominions 
Vpon  no  other  reafon  than  the  word 
And  weak  afliftance  of  the  Earle  S.  Paule 
Or  Burgundy's  perfuafion.     Tis  our  right 
That  wings  the  body  of  compofed  warre  ; 
And  though  we  liftend  to  their  flatteries, 
Yet  fo  we  fhapd  the  courfe  of  our  affaires, 
As  of  ourfelues  we  might  be  able  found, 
Without  the  trufling  to  a  broken  flarfe. 

K.  Lew.     I  knowe  your  maieftie  had  more  difcre- 

tion ; 

But  this  is  not  the  occafion  of  our  meeting. 
If  you  be  pleafd  to  entertain  a  peace, 
My  kingly  brother,  in  the  fight  of  thefe, 
And  of  the  all-difcouering  eye  of  Heauen, 
Let  vs  imbrace ;  for  as  my  life.  I  fweare 
I  tender  England  and  your  happinefie. 

K.  Ed.     The  like  do  I  by  you  and  warlike  France. 
But  princely  brother  ere  this  knot  be  knit, 
There  are  fome  few  conditions  to  be  fignde. 
That  done  I  am  as  ready  as  yourfelf. 

K.  Lew.     Faire  brother,  let  vs  hear  them  what  they 
be. 

K.  Ed.     Herauld,  repeate  the  articles. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  109 

Her.  Firfl  it  is  couenanted  that  Lewis  King  of 
France,  according  to  the  cuftom  of  his  predeceflors, 
fhall  do  homage  to  King  Edward,  King  of  England, 
as  his  Soueraign  and  true  heire  to  all  the  dominions 
of  France. 

Bour.     How  as  his  Soueraign  ?     That  were  to  de- 

pofe 

And  quite  bereaue  him  of  his  diadem. 
Will  kingly  Lewis  floope  to  fuch  a  vaffallage  ? 

K.  Ed.  Bourbon,  and  if  he  will  not,  let  him 
chufe. 

K.  Lew.     Brother,  haue  patience,  Bourbon^  feale 

your  lips ; 

And  interrupt  not  thefe  high  confequents. 
Forward,  herauld,  what  is  elfe  demanded  ? 

Her.  Secondly,  it  is  couenanted  that  Lewis,  King 
of  France,  mail  pay  vnto  Edward,  King  of  England, 
immediately  upon  the  agreement  betwixt  their  maief- 
ties,  feuenty-fiue  thoufand  crowns  of  the  fun,  toward 
the  charge  King  Edward  hath  been  at  fince  his  arri- 
ual  in  thefe  parts  of  France. 

Bour.     Mort  Dieu  /  hele  neither  leaue  him  crowne 
nor  coine. 

K.  Lew.  Bourbori  I  fay  be  filent,  Herauld,  reacle 
on. 

Her.  Thirdly  and  laflly  it  is  couenanted  that,  ouer 
and  befides  thefe  feuenty-fiue  thoufand  crownes  of  the 
fun  now  prefently  to  be  paid,  Lewis,  King  of  France, 
fhall  yearely  heereafter,  during  the  life  of  Edward, 
King  of  England,  pay  fifty  thoufand  crownes  more, 
without  fraud  or  guile,  to  be  tendered  at  his  maieflys 
caftle,  commonly  called  the  Towre  of  London. 

Bour.  Nay,  bind  him  that  he  bring  his  lordfhip  a 
couple  of  capons,  too,  euery  year  befide.  Here  is  a 
peace,  indeed,  far  worfe  then  warre. 

K.  Ed.     Brother  of  France,  are  you  refohid  to  do, 
According  as  you  heare  the  couenants  drawne  ? 

K.  Lew.     Brother  of  England,   mount  your  roial 
throne, 


no  The fecond part  of 

For  fubie<5ls  weale  and  glory  of  my  God, 

And  to  deale  iuftly  with  the  world  befide, 

Knowing  your  title  to  be  lineall 

From  the  great  Edward  of  that  name  the  Third, 

Your  predeceffor,  thus  I  do  refigne, 

Giuing  my  crowne  and  fcepter  to  your  hand, 

As  an  obedient  liegeman  to  your  Grace. 

K.  Ed.     The  fame  do  I  deliuer  backe  againe 
With  as  large  intereft  as  you  had  before. 
Now  for  the  other  couenants. 

K.  Lew.     Thofe,  my  Lord, 
Shall  likewife  be  performd  with  expedition ; 
And  euer  after,  as  you  haue  prefcribd, 
The  yearly  penfion  (hall  be  truely  paid. 

Her.     Swear  on  this  book,  King  Lewis,  fo  helpe 

you  God, 
You  meane  no  otherwife  then  you  haue  faid. 

K.  Lew.     So  helpe  me  God,  as  I  diffemble  not. 

K.  Ed.     And  fo  help  he  me,  as  .1  intend  to  keepe 
Vnfeigned  league  and  truce  with  noble  France. 
And,  kingly  brother,  now  to  confummate 
This  happy  day,  feail  in  our  royall  tent. 
Englilh  and  French  are  one.     So  it  is  meant.  Exeunt. 

Enter  at  one  doore,  Burgundy,  chafing,  with  him  Sellin- 
ger,  difguifed  like  a  Souldier :  at  another,  the 
Conftable  of  France,  with  him  Howard,  in  the  like 
difguife. 

Bur.     A  peace  concluded,  faiil  thou  ?  ill  not  fo? 

Sel.     My  lord,  I  do  affure  you,  it  is  fo. 

Con.     And  thou  affirmft  the  like  :  fay,   doll  thou 
not1? 

How.     I  doe,  my  Lord,  and  that  for  certainty. 

Bur.     I  haue  found  it  now,  the  villaine  Con  liable 
Hath  fecretly  with  Edward  thus  compact, 
To  joine  our  King  and  him  in  amity, 
And  thereby  fioubtleffe  got  into  his  hands 
Such  lands  and  Dukedoms  as  I  aimed  at, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  i  n 

And  leaues  me  difappointed  in  my  hope. 

A  plague  vpon  fuch  crafty  cofening  afide. 

Now  mail  I  be  a  mark  for  them  to  aim  at, 

And  that  vile  flaue  to  triumph  at  my  foil. 

Con.     Tis  fo  ;  for  it  can  be  no  otherwife. 
Burgundy  hath  been  priuy  to  this  plot  ; 
Confpird  with  Lewis  and  the  Englifh  King, 
To  faue  his  owne  flake,  and  afiure  himfelf 
Of  all  thofe  feigneuries  I  hoped  for ; 
And  thereupon  this  clofe  peace  is  contriued. 
Now  mufl  the  Conftable  be  as  a  butte 
For  all  their  bullets  to  be  leuelld  at. 
Hell  and  hot  vengeance  light  on  Burgundy 
For  this  his  fubtile  fecret  villany. 

Bur.     Well,  fellow,  for  thy  pains,  take  that. 
Leaue  me  alone  ;  for  I  am  much  difpleafed.        to  Sel. 

Con.     And  get  thee  gone,  my  friend.     There's  for 

thy  pains. 
So  leaue  me  to  myfelf.  to  How. 

Sel.     Fare  ye  well,  fir !     I  hope  I  haue  pepperd  ye. 

How.     And  fo  I  thinke  haue  I  my  Conflable. 

Exeunt  Sel.  and  How. 

Bur.     Now,,  Conftable  this  peace,  this  peace  ; 
What  think  ye  of  it,  man  ? 

Con.     Nay,  rather  what  thinks  Burgundy  1 

Cur.     I  thinke  he  that  did  contriue  the  fame 
Was  little  leffe  than  a  diflembling  villaine. 

Con.     Dog,  bite  thyfelf,  come  on,  come  on, 
Haue  not  you  play'd  John  for  the  King, 
To  faue  yourfelf,  fir  ? 

Bur.     I,  art  thou  good  at  that  ? 
Adieu,  fir  I  may  chance  to  hit  you  pat.  Exit. 

Con.     You  may,  fir  :  I  perhaps  may  be  before  ye, 
And  for  this  cunning  through  the  nofe  to  bore  ye. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  King  Edward,  King  Lewis,  Howard,  Sellinger, 
and  their  frame. 

K.  Ed.     So,  Sellinger  we  then  perceiue  by  thee 


H2  The  fecond  part  of 

The  Duke  is  pafling  angry  at  our  league  1 

Set.     I,  my  dread  Lord  !  beyond  companion, 
Like  a  mad  dogge,  fnatching  at  euery  one 
That  paffeth  by :  mail  I  but  mow  you  how, 
And  act  the  manner  of  his  tragicke  fury  ? 

K.  Ed.     No,  Hay  awhile.     Methought  I  heard  tliee 

fay 

They  meant  to  greet  vs  by  their  meilengers. 
Sel.     They  did  my  Lord. 
K.  Ed.     What,  and  the  Conflable  too  ? 
How.     My  foueraign,  yes. 
K.  Ed.     But  how  tooke  he  the  nevves  1 
How.     'Faith,  euen  as  difcontented  as  might  be  ; 
But,  being  a  more  deep  melancholifle, 
And  fullener  of  temper  then  the  Duke, 
He  chawes  his  malice,  fumes  and  frothes  at  mouth, 
Vttering  but  little  more  then  what  we  gather 
By  his  difturbed  looks  and  riuelld  front ; 
Sauing  that  now  and  then  his  boiling  paffion, 
Damnd  vp  as  in  a  furnace,  finding  vent, 
Breaks  through  his  feuerd  lips  into  fhort  puffs, 
And  then  he  mumbles  forth  a  word  or  two, 
As  doth  a  toothleffe  monke  when  hees  at  mattens. 
K.  Ed.     Oh,  it  was  fport  alone  to  note  their  car 
riage. 
Sel.     Sport,   my   Lord  ?    will    you   but   heare    me 

fpeake, 

And  if  I  do  not  wearie  you  with  laughter, 
Nere  truft  Tom  Sellinger  more  vpon  his  word. 

Sound  a  trutnpet. 
K.  Ed.      I  pray  thee,  peace  :    by   this    it   mould 

appeare 

One  of  their  meffengers  is  come.     Go  fee. 
Vpon  my  life,  we  fliall  haue  fome  devife 
Of  new  diflimulation.     How  now,  Tom  1 

Sel.     Tis  as  your  highneffe  did  fuppofe,  my  Lord. 
Here  is  a  meffenger  from  burgundy. 

K.  Ed.     Excellent  good,  admit  him  prefently  : 
And,  brother  of  France,  let  me  intreat  your  grace 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 1 3 

To  ftand  afide  a  little  in  my  tent, 
Lead,  finding  vs  together,  he  refraine 
To  tell  the  meffage  he  is  fent  about ; 
So  Cure  I  am  perfuaded  we  mail  find 
Some  notable  piece  of  knauerie  fet  afoote. 

K.  Lew.     With  all  my  hart.     Vrge  him  fpeak  loud 

inough, 
That  I,  my  Lord,  may  vnderftand  him  too.  Exit. 

Enter  the  Lord  of  Conte.  , 

K.  Ed.      Fear  not.      I   haue  the   method  in  my 

mind. 

What,  is  it  you,  my  lord  of  Conte  1     Welcome, 
How  doth  the  valiant  Duke  ?  in  health,  I  hope  ? 

Con.     In   health,   my  lord,   of    body,   though   in 

mind 

Somewhat  diftemper'd,  that  your  grace  hath  joind 
In  league  with  his  profefled  enemie. 

K.  Ed,     How  fay  you  that,  my  lord  ?   pray  you 

fpeak  e  out ; 

For  I,  of  late,  by  reafon  of  a  cold, 
Am  fomewhat  thicke  of  hearing. 

Con.     Thus,  my  Lord. 

Your  grace  demanded  if  the  Duke  were  well. 
I  anfwer  you,  he  is  in  health  of  bcdy, 
Though  inwardly,  in  mind,  fomewhat  perplext 
That  you,  without  his  knowledge,  haue  tane  truce 
With  childifh  Lewis,  hartlefs  King  of  France. 

K.  Ed.     With  whom,  I  pray  ye?     A  little  louder, 

fir. 

Conte.     With  childifh  Lewis,  that  heartlefs  king  of 
France. 

K.  Ed.     I  now  do  vnderftand  you.     Is  it  that 
He  takes  vnkindly  ^     Why,  if  hee  had  come 
With  his  expected  forces,  as  he  promift, 
I  had  been  flill  uncapable  of  peace ; 
But  he  deceiuing  me,  the  fault  was  his. 

Con.     No,  my  good  lord,  the  fault  was  not  in  him, 
But  in  that  lewd  pernicious  counterfeit, 


ii4  The  fecond part  of 

That  crafty  foxe,  the  Conflable  of  France, 

Who  counfeld  him  to  keepe  him  at  his  fiege, 

Saying  it  would  be  more  difhonorable 

To  rife  from  thence,  then  any  way  profitable 

To  meet  your  maieftie.     Befide  my  lord, 

It  hath  been  proued  fince  how  much  the  Conflable 

Hates  your  proceedings,  by  that  wilfull  mot 

Was  made  againft  you  from  S.  Quintins  walls, 

Which  though  he  feemd  to  colour  with  faire  fpeech, 

The  truth  is,  they  did  leuel  at  yourfelfe, 

And  grieued  when  they  heard  you  were  not  flaine. 

K.  Ed.     May  I  be  bold  to  credit  your  report  ? 

Conte.     The  Duke,  vpon  his  honour,  bade  me  fay 
That  it  was  true  ;  and  therewithall,  quoth  he, 
Tell  noble  Edward,  if  he  will  recant, 
And  fall  from  Lewis  againe,  knowing  it  is 
More  for  his  dignity  to  be  fole  King, 
And  conquer  France,  as  did  his  anceflors, 
Then  take  a  fee,  and  fo  be  fatisfied, 
That  I  am  ready  with  twelue  thoufand  foldiers, 
All  well  appointed,  and  not  only  will 
Deliuer  him  the  Conflable  of  France, 
That  he  may  punifh  him  as  hee  fees  good, 
But  feat  him  in  the  throne  imperial, 
Which  now  another  bafely  doth  vfurpe. 

K.  Ed.     Speake  that  againe  :  I  heard  not  your  laft 
words. 

Conte.     But  feat  you  in  the  throne  imperial, 
Which  now  another  bafely  doth  vfurpe. 

K.  Ed.     I  thank  his  honour  for  his  good  regard. 
Pleafeth  you  Hay  till  we  haue  paus'd  vpon  it, 
And  you  mail  haue  our  anfwer  to  the  Duke. 
Tom  Sellinger,  receiue  him ;  to  your  tent, 
And  let  him  tafte  a  cup  of  Orleance  wine. 
Now,  my  kingly  brother,  haue  you  heard  this  news  ? 

K.  Lew.     So  plainely,  my  lord,  that  I  fcarce  held 

myfelf 

From  flepping  forth,  hearing  my  royal  name 
So  much  profande  and  flubberd  as  it  was  ; 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 1 5 

But  I  do  weigh  the  perfon  like  himfelfe, 

From  whence  it  came,  a  fly  diffembler ; 

And,  fpight  my  anger,  I  was  forft  fometime 

To  fmile,  to  thinke  the  Duke  doth  hang  his  friend, 

Behind  his  backe,  whom  to  his  face  he  fmothes. 

K.  Ed.     But  we  mail  haue  farre  better  fport  anon. 
Howard  tells  me  that  another  meffenger 
Is  come  in  poft  hafle  from  the  Conftable  ; 
As  you  haue  begun,  with  patience  heare  the  reft. 

K.  Lew.     No  more  adoe.     He  to  my  place  again. 
Remember  that  you  ftil  be  deafe,  my  lord. 

K.  Ed.     I  warrant  you.     Howard,  cal  in  the  mef 
fenger. 

Enter  the  Meffenger  from  the  Conftable. 

Mes.     Health  to  the  victorious  King  of  England 

K.  Ed.     Tell  him  he  muft  flraine   out   his  voice 

aloud ; 
For  I  am  fomewhat  deafe,  and  cannot  heare. 

How.     His  maieftie  requefls  you  to  fpeake  out, 
Becaufe  his  hearing  is  of  late  decaide. 

Mes.     The  worthy  Earle  S.  Paul. 

K.  Ed.     Come  neere  mee. 

Mes.      The   worthy   Earle   S.   Paul  greets    noble 

Edward, 

And  giues  your  grace  to  vnderftand  by  me, 
That  whereas  Charles,  that  painted  fepulchre, 
And  moft  difloyall  Duke  of  Burgundy, 
Hath  but  ufurpt  the  habit  of  a  friend, 
Being  in  heart  your  deadly  enemy, 
As  well  appeares  in  his  falfe  breach  of  promife, 
And  that  whereas  he  neuer  meant  himfelfe, 
To  fend  you  aide,  but  likewife  was  the  meanes 
To  hinder  my  lords  well  affected  duty, 
Alleadging,  you  defirde  his  company 
But  that  you  might  betraie  him  to  the  King. 
Befide,  whereas  it  will  be  prou'd,  my  lord, 
That  he  did  hire  the  gunner  of  SL  Quintins, 

I   2 


1 1 6  Thefecond  'part  of 

For  a  large  fum  of  money,  to  difcharge 

Three  feueral  pieces  of  great  ordenance, 

Vpon  your  coming  to  that  curfed  town, 

To  flay  your  maieflie  :  in  which  regard, 

If  it  will  pleafe  you  to  reuoke  from  France, 

And  think  of  Burgundy  as  he  deferues, 

The  Duke  with  expedition  bad  me  fay 

That  he  would  put  the  Earle  into  your  hands, 

Whereby  you  might  reuen'ge  his  treacherous  purpofe, 

And  aide  you,  too,  with  twife  fiue  thoufand  men, 

And  feat  you  like  a  conquerour  in  France. 

K.  Ed.     Can    it    feeme    poffible    that    two   fuch 

friends, 

So  firmly  knit  together  as  they  were, 
Should  on  a  fuddaine  now  be  fuch  great  foes  ? 

Mes.     The  Earle,  my  lord,  could  neuer  abide  the 

Duke, 

Since  his  lafl  treafon  againft  your  facred  perfon, 
Before  S.  Quintins  came  to  open  light, 

K.  Ed.     Was   that   the   caufe   of  their   diffention, 
then? 

Mef.     It  was,  my  lord. 

K.  Ed.     Well,  I  will  think  vpont, 
And  you  mall  haue  our  anfwere  by  and  by. 
Cofin  Howard,  take  him  afide  ; 
But  let  him  be  kept  from  the  others  fight. 

How.     Sir,  will  you  walk  in  ?    my  lord  will  take 

aduice, 
And  fo  defpatch  you  backe  againe  vnto  the  Earle. 

K.  Lew.     Here's  vying  of  villany,  who  mail  haue 

all, 

Fraud  with  deceit,  deceit  with  fraud  outfacde, 
I  would  the  diuel  were  there  to  cry  fwoop-ftake. 
But  how  intends  your  grace  to  deale  with  them  ? 

K.  Ed.     Faith  in  their  kind.     I  am  the  fteele  you 

-fee, 

Againft  the  which  their  enuy  being  ftrooke, 
The  fparkles  of  hipocrifie  fly  forth. 
Twere  not  amiffe  to  quench  them  in  their  blood. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 1 7 

Enter  another  Meffenqir  to  the  King  of  France,  with 
letters. 

Mef.     My  lord,  here's  letters  to  your  maieftie  ; 
One  from  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  the  other 
From  the  Conftable. 

K.  Lew.     More   villany !    a   thoufand    crowns    to 
nothing  ! 

K.  Ed.      Can    there    be    more    than    is    already 

broacht, 

Methinks  they  haue  already  done  fo  well, 
As  this  may  ferue  to  bring  them  both  to  hell. 

K.  Lew.      No,    no ;     they    are    indifferently    well 

loden ; 

But  yet  their  fraughts  not  full.     See  other  ware, 
Other  prouifion  to  prepare  their  way.- 
The  very  fame,  my  lord,  which  they  pretend, 
In  loue  to  you,  againft  my  life  and  crown, 
The  fame  they  vndertake  to  do  for  me 
Againfl  your  fafety  ;  vrging,  if  I  pleafe, 
That  they  will  ioin  their  forces  both  with  mine, 
And  in  your  back  return  to  Calice,  cut  the  throats 
Of  you  and  all  your  foldiers. 

K.  Ed.     Oh  damnable  ! 
But  that  I  fee  it  figurde  in  thefe  lines, 
I    would    haue    fworne    there    had    been    nothing 

left 
For  their  pernitious  braine  to  worke  vpon. 

K.  Lew.      A    traitors    like    a    bold-facde     hipo- 

crite, 

That  neuer  will  be  brought  vnto  a  non-plus, 
So  long  as  he  hath  liberty  to  fpeake. 

K.  Ed.      The  way  to  cure  them  is  to  cut  them 

off. 
Call  forth  their  meffengers  once  more  to  vs. 

How.     Both  of  them,  my  lord  ? 

K.  Ed.     Yes,  both  together. 
Wele  fee  if  they  haue  grace  to  blufh  or  no, 
At  that  their  mafters  fhame  now  to  attempt. 


i  T  8  The  feoond part  of 

Enter  both  the  Meffen°crs. 

Conte.     What,  is  his  maiefty  of  France  fo  neere  1 
And  Monfier  Roffe,  the  Earles  fecretary  ? 
I  feare  fome  hurt  depends  vpon  his  prefence. 

Mef.     How  comes  it  that  I  fee  the  French  King 

here? 

Ay,  and  the  Lord  of  Conte,  too,  methinks. 
Pray  God  our  meffage  be  not  made  a  fcorne. 

K.  Ed.     You  told  me  that  you  came  from  Earle 
S.  Paul  ? 

Mef.     I  did,  my  lord ;  and  therein  fabled  not. 

K.  Ed.     You   told    me,   too,   of   many  kind    in- 

deauours 
Which  he  intended  for  our  benefite  ? 

Mef.     No  more  then  he  is  willing  to  perform. 

K.  Ed.     Know  you  his  handwriting,  if  you  feet. 

Mef.     I  doe,  my  lord. 

K.  Ed.     Is  this  his  hand  or  no  ? 

Mef.     I  cannot  fay  but  that  it  is  his  hand. 

K.  Ed.     How  comes  it  then  that  vnderneath  his 

hand 

My  death  is  fought,  when  yon,  that  are  his  mouth, 
Tune  to  our  ears  a  quite  contrary  tale  1 
The  like  read  you  decipherd  in  this  paper 
Concerning  treacherous,  wauering  Burgundy  : 
Vnleffe  you  grant  they  can  dmide  themfelues, 
And  of  two  mapes  become  foure  fubftances, 
How  is  it  I  mould  haue  their  knightly  aide, 
And  yet  by  them  be  vtterly  deftroide  ? 

K.  Lew.     And  I  to  be  protected  by  their  meanes, 
And  yet  they  (hall  confpire  againft  my  life  1 

K.  Ed.     What  call  you  this  but  vile  hipocrify  1 

K.  Lew.     Nay  pefant-like,  vnheard-of  treachery. 

Conte.       My    lord,    vpbraid    not    me    with    this 

offence  : 

I  do  protefl  I  knew  of  no  fuch  letters, 
Nor  any  other  intention  of  the  Duke, 
More  then  before  was  vtterd  in  my  meffage. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          119 

Sel.     Will  you  be  halting  too  before  a  creeple  ? 
Do  you  not  remember  what  they  were, 
That  firfl  did  certify  the  Duke  of  truce 
Betwixt  the  renowned  Edward  and  the  French  ? 

Conte.     Yes,   they   were    two    foldiers  ;    what    of 
that? 

Sel.     Thofe  foldiers  were  this  gentleman  and  1, 
Where  we  did  hear  the  foul-mouth d  Duke  exclaim 
Againft  our  noble  Soueraign  and  this  prince, 
And  roarde  and  bellowd  like  a  parim-bull, 
And  that  in  hearing  both  of  you  and  him. 
His  words  io  pleafe  my  lord  I  can  repeat, 
As  he  did  fpeake  them  at  the  very  time. 

K.  Ed.     Well,  they  are  meffengers ;  and,  for  that 

caufe, 

We  are  content  to  bear  with  their  amiffe ; 
But  keepe  them  fafe,  and  let  them  not  returne, 
To  carry  tales  vnto  thofe  counterfeits, 
Vntil  you  haue  them  both  as  faft  infnarde  : 
To  compaffe  which  the  better,  brother  of  France, 
Fiue  thoufand  of  our  foldiers  here  we  leaue, 
To  be  imploide  in  feruice  to  that  end. 
The  reft  with  vs  to  England  mall  return.  Exit. 

Enter  Chorus. 

Cho.     King  Edward  is   returned    home   to  Eng 
land, 

And  Lewis,  King  of  France,  foon  afterward 
Surprized  both  his  fubtil  enemies, 
Rewarding  them  with  traiterous  recompence. 
Now  do  we  draw  the  curtain  of  our  Scene, 
To  fpeake  of  Shore  and  his  faire  wife  againe, 
With  other  matters  thereupon  depending. 
You  muft  imagine  fince  you  faw  him  lafl 
Preparde  for  trauaile,  he  hath  been  abroade, 
And  feene  the  fun  dry  fafhions  of  the  world, 
Vlyffes-\ti&,  his  countries  loue  at  length, 
Hoping  his  wiues  death,  and  to  fee  his  friends, 


1 20  The  fecond part  of 

Such  as  did  forrow  for  his  great  mifhaps, 

Come  home  is  hee  ;  but  fo  vnluckily, 

As  he  is  like  to  loofe  his  life  thereby. 

His  and  her  fortunes  mail  we  now  purfue, 

Gracde  with  your  gentle  fufferance  and  view.        Exit. 

Enter  miftris  Shore  with  Jocky  her  Man,  and  fame 
Attendants  more,  and  ts  met  by  Sir  Robert 
Brackenburie. 

Jane.      Haue    ye    beftowd    our    fmall    beneuo- 

lence 

On  the  poore  prifoners  in  the  common  gaol 
Of  the  White  Lion  and  the  Kings  Bench  ? 

Jocky.     Yes,  forfooth  ? 

Jane.     What  prifons  this  ? 

Jocky.     The  Marfhalfea,  forfooth  ! 

. 
Enter  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury. 

Bra.     Well  met,  faire  lady  in  the  happieft  time 
And  choifeft  place  that  my  defire  could  wifh. 
Without  offence,  where  haue  ye  beene  this  way  ? 

Jane.     To   take   the   aire   here,  in   Saint  Georges 

field, 

Sir  Robert  Brackenbury,  and  to  vifit  fome 
Poore  patients  that  cannot  vifit  me. 

Bra*     Are  you  a  phyfition  ? 

Jane.     I,  a  fimple  one. 

Bra.     What  difeafe  cure  yee  ? 

Jane.     Faith,  none  perfectly. 
My  phyficke  doth  but  mitigate  the  paine 
A  little  while,  and  then  it  comes  againe. 

Bra.     Sweet  miftris  Shore,  I  vnderfland  ye  not. 

Jane.     Maifler  Lieutenant,  I  belieue  you  well. 

Jocky.  Gude  faith,  Sir  Robert  Brobenbelly,  may 
maiftrefs  fpeaks  deftly  and  truly ;  for  (he  hes  been  till 
fee  thofe  that  cannot  come  till  fee  her ;  and  theyes 
peatients  perforce.  The  prifoners,  man,  in  the  twea 


King  Edward  thefoiirth.  1 2 1 

prifons.     And  me  hes  gynne  tham  her  filler  and  her 
geer  till  bay  them  fude. 

Bra.     Gramercies,  Jocky,  thou  refoluft  my  doubt. 
A  comfort-miniflering,  kind  phyfition, 
That  once  a  week  in  her  owne  perfon  vifits 
The  prifoners  and  the  poore  in  hofpitals, 
In  London  or  neere  London  euery  way ; 
Whofe  purfe  is  open  to  the  hungry  foule  ; 
Whofe  piteous  heart  faues  many  a  tall  mans  life. 

Jane.      Peace,  good   Sir  Robert,   tis   not   worthy 

praife, 

Nor  yet  worth  thanks,  that  is  of  duty  done. 
For  you  know  well,  the  world  doth  know  too  well, 
That  all  the  coals  of  my  poor  charity 
Cannot  confume  the  fcandall  of  my  name. 
What  remedy  1  well,  tel  me,  gentle  knight, 
What  meant  your  kind  falute  and  gentle  fpeech 
At  your  firft  meeting,  when  you  feemde  to  bleffe 
The  time  and  place  of  our  encounter  heere  ? 

Bra.     Lady,  there  lies  here  prifonde  in  the  Mar- 

Jhalfea, 

A  gentleman  of  good  parents  and  good  difcent, 
My  deare,  neare  kinfman,   Captaine  Harrie  Stran- 

guidge, 

As  tall  a  skilfull  nauigator  tride 
As  ere  fet  foote  in  any  (hip  at  fea, 
Whofe  lucke  it  was  to  take  a  prize  of  Prance, 
As  he  from  Rcchell  was  for  London  bound  ; 
For  which  (except  his  pardon  be  obtain'd 
By  fome  efpeciall  favorite  of  the  King) 
He  and  his  crew,  a  company  of  proper  men, 
Are  fure  to  die,  becaufe  twas  fmce  the  league. 

Jane.     Let  me  fee  him  and  all  his  company. 

Bra.     Keeper,   bring   forth    the   Captain  and  his 
crew. 

Enter  Keeper^  Stranguidge,  Shore  difguifed,  and  three 
more  fettered. 

Jocky.     Now,  fay  oth  deel,  that  fike  bonny  men 


1 2-2  Tlie  fecond part  of 

fud  be  hampert  like  plu-jades.     Waes  me  for  ye,  gude 
lads. 

Bra.     I,  cofm  Harry  \  this  is  miftris  Shore, 
Peerleffe  in  court,  for  beautie,  bountie,  pittie  ! 

Jane  viewes  them  all. 
And  if  me  cannot  faue  thee,  thou  mufl  die. 

Stran.     Will  fhe,  if  fhe  can  1 

Bra.     I,  cofm  Stranguidge,  I. 

Shore,  afide.     Oh,  torment  worfe  than  death,  to  fee 

her  face, 

That  caufd  her  fhame  and  my  vnjufl  difgrace  ! 
O,  that  our  mutual  eyes  were  bafiliske 
To  kill  each  other  at  this  enterview. 

Bra.     How  like  ye  him,  lady?  you  haue  viewed 
him  well. 

yam.     I  pity  him,  and  that  fame  proper  man 
That  turnes  his  backe,  afhamd  of  this  diflreffe. 

Shore.     Amam'd  of  thee,  caufe  of  my  heauineffe. 

Jane.     And  all  the  reft.     Oh  were  the  King  re 
turn' d, 

There  might  be  hope ;  but,  ere  his  comming  home, 
They  may  be  tried,  condemnd,  and  judgd,  and  dead. 

Shore.     I  am  condemn' d  by  fentence  of  defame, 

afide. 
O,  were  I  dead,  I  might  not  fee  my  fhame  ! 

Bra.     Your  credit,  lady,  may  prolong  their  triall. 
What  judge  is  he  that  will  giue  you  deniall  ? 

Jane.     He    rack  my  credit,  and  will   lanch   my 

crownes, 
To  faue  their  Hues,  if  they  haue  done  no  murther. 

Shore.     Oh,  thou  haft  crack'd   thy  credit  with  a 

crowne, 
And  murderd  me,  poore  Matthew  Shore,  aliue  !   afide. 

Stran.     Faire  lady,  we  did  fhed  no  drop  of  bloud, 
Nor  cafl  one  Frenchman  ouerbord,  and  yet, 
Becaufe  the  league  was  made  before  the  faci, 
Which  we  poor  feamen  God  knows  neuer  heard, 
We  doubt  our  liues ;  yea,  though  we  mould  reftore 
Treble  the  value  that  we  tooke  and  more. 


King  Edward  the  foztrth.          123 

Twas  lawfull  prize  when  I  put  out  to  fea, 

And  warranted  in  my  commiffion. 

The  kings  are  fmce  combind  in  amity 

(Long  may  it  laft)  and  I  vnwittingly 

Haue  tooke  a  Frenchman  fmce  the  truce  was  tane, 

And  if  I  die,  via,  one  day  I  muft. 

And  God  will  pardon  all  my  fins,  I  truft. 

My  grief  will  be  for  thefe  poore  harmleffe  men, 

Who  thought  my  warrant  might  fuborn  the  xleed  ; . 

Chiefly  that  gentleman  that  flands  fadly  there, 

Who  (on  my  foule)  was  but  a  paffenger. 

Jane.     Well,  Captain  Stranguidqe,  were  the  king  at 

home, 
I  could  fay  more. 

Sir  an.     Lady,  hees  come  afhore. 
Lad  night  at  Douer,  my  boy  came  from  thence, 
And  faw  his  highneffe  land. 

Jane.     Then  courage  firs 
He  vfe  my  faireft  meanes  to  faue  your  Hues. 
In  the  meane  feafon,  fpend  that  for  my  fake. 

cafts  her  purfe. 

Enter  Lord  Marqueffe  Dorfet,  and  claps  her  on  the 
/houlder. 

Mar.     By  your  leaue,  miflris  Shore,    I  haue  taken 

paines 

To  find  you  out.     Come,  you  muft  go  with  me. 
Jane.     Whither,  my  lord  'I 
Mar.     Vnto  the  Queene,  my  mother. 
Jane.     Good  my  lord  Marquejje  Dorfet,  wrong  me 

not. 
Mar.     I  cannot  wrong  thee,  as  thou  wrongft  my 

mother, 

He  bring  thee  to  her.     Let  her  vfe  her  pleafure. 
Jane.      Againfl  my  will  I  wrong   her  good    my 

ford, 

Yet  am  afhamd  to  fee  her  naaiefty. 
Sweet  lord,  excufe  me.     Say  ye  faw  me  not. 


1 24  The  fecond  part  of 

Mar.     Shall  I  delude  my  mother  for  a  whore  ? 
No,  miflrefs  Shore,  ye  muft  go  to  the  Queen e. 

Jane.     Muft  I,  my  lord  '\  what  will  me  do  to  me  ] 
Vfe  violence  on  me,  now  the  Kings  away  ? 
Alas,  my  lord,  behold  this  fhowr  of  tears, 
Which  kinde  King  Edward  would  compaflionate. 
Bring  me  not  to  her :  fhe  will  flit  my  nofe, 
Or  mark  my  face,  or  fpurn  me  vnto  death. 
Look  on  me  lord  !     Can  you  find  in  your  heart 
To  haue  me  fpoil'd  that  neuer  thought  you  harme  ? 
Oh,  rather  with  your  rapier  run  me  through, 
Then  carry  me  to  the  difpleafed  Queene. 

Shore.     Oh,   hadft   thou  neuer  broke  thy  vow  to 

me, 
From  feare  and  wrong  had  I  defended  thee. 

Mar.     I  am  inexorable.     Therefore  arife, 
And  go  with  me.     What  rafcall  crue  is  this  1 
Miftris  Shores  futors  ?  fuch  flaues  make  her  proud. 
What,  Sir  Robert  Brackenbury  !  you  a  Shorift  too  ? 

Bra.     No  Shorift,  but  to  faue  my  cofms  life. 

Mar.     Then  He  be  hangd  if  he  efcape,  for  this , 
The  rather  for  your  meanes  to  miftris  Shore. 
My  mother  can  do  nothing  :  this  whore  all. 
Come  away,  minion  you  fliall  prate  no  more. 

Jane.     Pray  for  me,  friends ;  and  I  will  pray  for 

you. 

God  fend  you  better  hap  then  I  expe6l ; 
Go  to  my  lodging,  you ;  and,  if  I  perifh, 
Take  what  is  there  in  lieu  of  your  true  feruice. 

Jock.  Na  !  a  maye  fale  ayfe  nere  forfake  my  gude 
maiftrefs,  till  aye  ha  feen  tha  worfl  that  fpight  can  du 
her. 

Exeunt  Marqueffe  and  Jane,  and  theirs. 

Shore.     For  all  the  wrong  that  thou  haft  done  to 


o 

me. 


They  mould  not  hurt  thee  yet  if  I  were  free. 

Bra.      See,  coufin  Strangtiidge,  how   the   cafe   is 

changed, 
She  that  could  help  thee  cannot  help  herfelfe. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          125 

Stran.     What  remedy  ?  the  God   of  heauen  helps 

all. 

What  fay  ye  mates  1  our  hope  of  life  is  dafht. 
Now  none  but  God,  lets  put  our  truft  in  him, 
And  euery  man  repent  him  of  his  fmne, 
And  as  together  we  haue  liude  like  men, 
So  like  tall  men  together  let  vs  die. 
The  befl  is,  if  we  dye  for  this  offence, 
Our  ignorance  mall  plead  our  innocence. 

Keeper.     Your  meat  is  ready,  Captain ;  you  mull 
in. 

Stran.      Mud  I  ?     I  will.     Cofm,  what  will  you 
do? 

Bra.     Vint  you  foone  j  but  now  I  will  to  Court, 
To  fee  what  mail  become  of  miftris  Shore. 

Stran.     God  fpeede  ye  well. 

Keeper.     Come,  fir,  will  you  goe  in  ? 

Shore.     He  eate  no  meat.     Giue  me  leaue  to  walk 
here. 

Exeunt  omnes  prwter  Shore. 
Am  I  not  left  alone  ?     No  ;  millions 
Of  miferies  attend  me  euery  where  : 
Ah,  Matthew  Shore,  how  doth  all-feeing  Heauen 
Punifh  fome  fmne  from  thy  blind  confcience.  hid  ! 
Inflicting  paine  where  all  thy  pleafure  was  ; 
And  by  my  wife  came  all  thefe  woes  to  paffe. 
She  falfde  her  faith,  and  brake  her  wedlocks  band  : 
Her  honour  falln,  how  could  my  credit  Hand  ? 
Yet  will  not  I,  poore  Jane,  on  thee  exclaim. 
Though  guilty  thou,  I  guiltlefle  naffer  Ihame. 
I  left  this  land,  too  little  for  my  griefe ; 
Returning,  am  accounted  as  a  theefe, 
Who  in  that  fhip  came  for  a  paffenger 
To  fee  my  friends,  hoping  the  death  of  her ; 
At  fight  of  whom  fome  fparks  of  former  loue 
(Hid  in  affections  afhes)  pity  mooue, 
Kindling  compaffion  in  my  broken  heart, 
That  bleeds  to  thinke  on  her  infuing  fmart. 


126  The  fecond part  of 

O,  fee  weake  womens  imperfections, 

That  leaue  their  husbands  fafe  protections, 

Hazarding  all  on  flrangers  flatteries, 

Whofe  luft  allaid,  leaues  them  to  miferies. 

See  what  dishonour  breach  of  wedlock  brings, 

Which  is  not  fafe,  euen  in  the  arms  of  kings. 

Thus  do  I  Jane  lament  thy  prefent  ftate, 

Wifhing  my  teares  thy  torments  might  abate.        Exit. 


Enter  the  Queene,  Marqueffe  Dorfet  leading  mi/iris 
Shore,  who  fals  downe  on  her  knees  before  the 
Queene  fear  efull  and  weeping. 

Queen.     Now  as  I  am  a  queene,  a  goodly  creature, 
Son,  how  was  fhee  attended,  where  you  found  her  ? 

Mar.     Madame  I  found  her  at  the  Mar  half 6a> 
Going  to  vifit  the  poore  prifoners, 
As  me  came  by,  hauing  been  to  take  the  aire ; 
And  there  the  keeper  told  me  me  oft  deales 
Such  bounteous  almes  as  feldom  hath  been  feene. 

Queen.    Now,  before  God  !  me  would  make  a  gal 
lant  Queene. 

But,  good  fon  Dorfet,  ftand  afide  awhile. 
God  faue  your  Majefty,  my  Lady  Shore. 
My  Lady  Shore,  faid  1 1     Oh  blafphemy, 
To  wrong  your  title  with  a  ladies  name  ! 
Queene  Shore,  nay  rather  Emprefle  Shore  \ 
God  faue  your  grace,  your  maietty,  your  highnes 
Lord  I  want  titles  you  muft  pardon  me  ? 
What  ?    you    kneel    there  ?       King    Edwards    bed 
fellow, 

And  I,  your  fubiecl,  fit  ?  fie,  fie  for  fhame. 
Come  take  your  place  j  and  ile  kneel  where  you  do. 
I  may  take  your  place  :  you  may  take  mine. 
Good  lord,  that  you  will  fo  debafe  yourfelf ! 
I  am  fure,  you  are  our  fitter  queene  at  leaft : 
Nay,  that  you  are.     Then  let  vs  fit  together. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          1 2  7 

Jane.     Great  queene  yet  heare  me,  if  my  fmne 

committed 

Haiie  riot  ftopt  vp  all  paflage  to  your  mercie. 
To  tell  the  wrongs  that  I  haue  done  your  highnes, 
Might  make  reuenge  exceed  extremity. 
Oh,  had  I  words  or  tongue  to  vtter  it, 
To  plead  my  womans  weakneffe,  and  his  flrength, 
That  was  the  onely  worker  of  my  fall, 
Euen  Innocence  herfelfe  would  blufh  for  fhame, 
Once  to  be  namde  or  fpoken  of  in  this. 
Let  them  expect  for  mercy  whofe  offence 
May  but  be  called  fmne.     Oh  mine  is  more. 
Proftrate  as  earth  before  your  highneffe  feete, 
Inflicl  what  torments  you  mail  thinke  mod  rneete. 

Mar.     Spurn  the  whore,  (mother)  teare  thofe  entic 
ing  eies, 

That  robd  you  of  King  Edwards  dearefl  loue. 
Mangle  thofe  locks,  the  baits  to  his  defires, 
Let  me  come  to  her  :  you  but  ftand  and  talke, 
As  if  reuenge  confided  but  in  words. 

Queen.     Son  !    ftand  aloofe,  and  do   not   trouble 

me. 

Alas,  poorfoule  as  much  adoe  haue  I  Afide. 

To  forbeare  teares  to  keepe  her  company. 
Yet  once  more  will  I  to  my  former  humor. 
Why,  as  I  am,  thinke  that  thou  wert  a  queen  ; 
^And  I  as  thou  mould  wrong  thy  princely  bed, 
And  win  the  King  thy  husband,  as  thou  mine  1 
Would  it  not  fling  thy  foule  ?     Or  if  that  I, 
Being  a  queene,  while  thou  didfl  loue  thy  husband, 
Should  but  haue  done  as  thou  haft  done  to  me, 
Would  it  not  grieue  thee  ?     Yes,  I  warrant  thee. 
Ther's  not  the  meaneft  woman  that  doth  Hue, 
But  if  me  like  and  loue  her  husband  well, 
She  had  rather  feele  his  warme  limrnes  in  her  bed 
Then  fee  him  in  the  armes  of  any  queene. 
You  are  flefh  and  blood  as  we,  and  we  as  yon, 
And  all  alike  in  our  affections, 
Though  maiefly  makes  vs  the  more  ambitious. 


128  The  fecond part  of 

What  tis  to  fall  into  fo  great  a  hand, 

Knowledge    might  teach  thee.      There  was  once  a 
king, 

Henry  the  Second,  who  did  keep  his  lemman 

Cag'd  vp  at  Woodflocke  in  a  labyrinth  : 

His  queen  yet  got  a  tricke  to  finde  her  out ; 

And  how  fhe  vfde  her,  I  am  fure  thou  haft  heard. 

Thou  art  not  mewde  vp  in  fome  fecret  place  ; 

But  kept  in  court  here  vnderneath  my  nofe. 

Now,  in  the  abfence   of  my  lord  the  King, 

Haue  I  not  time  moft  fitting  for  reuenge  ? 

Faire  Rofamond,  me  a  pure  virgin  was, 

Vntill  the  king  feduc'd  her  to  his  will. 

She  wrongd  but  one  bed  \  only  the  angry  Queens ; 

But    thou   haft    wronged   two;   mine   and   thy  hus 
bands. 

Be  thine  own  iudge,  and  now  in  iuftice  fee 

What  due  reuenge  I  ought  to  take  on  thee. 

Jane.     Eun  what  you  will  (great  queen e)  here  do 
Hie, 

Humble  and  proftrate  at  your  highneffe  feete  ; 

Inflict  on  me  what  may  reuenge  your  wrong : 

Was  neuer  lambe  abode  more  patiently 

Then  I  will  do.     Call  all  your  griefes  to  minde  ; 

And  do  euen  what  you  will,  or  how  likes  you, 

I  will  not  ftirre  I  will  not  fhrike  or  cry, 

Be  it  torture,  poifon,  any  punimment, 

Was  neuer  doue  or  turtle  more  fubmifs, 

Then  I  will  be  vnto  your  chaftifement. 

Mar.     Fetcht  I  her  for  this  1  mother,  let  me  come 
to  her ; 

And  what  companion  will  not  fuffer  you 

To  do  to  her,  referre  the  fame  to  me. 

Queen.     Touch  her  not  fon,  vpon  thy  life  I  charge 
thee! 

But  keepe  of  ftill,  if  thou  wilt  haue  my  loue. 

Exit  Marquis. 

I  am  glad  to  heare  ye  are  fo  well  refolude, 

To  beare  the  burthen  of  my  iuft  difpleafure. 


King  Edward  the  fourth .          129 

She  drawes  forth  a  knife,  and  making  as  though  Jlie 
meant  to  fpoile  her  face,  rims  to  her,  and  falling  on 
her  knees,  embraces  and  kijfes  her,  cajling  away  the 
knife. 

Thus,  then,  Tie  do.     Alas,  poor  foul ! 
Shall  I  weep  with  thee  1  in  faith,  poor  heart,  I  will. 
Be  of  good  comfort :  thou  (halt  haue  no  harm  ; 
But  if  that  kiffes  haue  the  power  to  kill  thee, 
Thus,   thus,   and    thus,  a    thoufand   times    He   flab 

thee. 

Jane,  I  forgiue  thee.     What  fort  is  fo  ftrong, 
But,  with  befieging,  he  will  batter  it  ? 
Weep  not  (fweet  Jane)  alas,  I  know  thy  fex, 
Toucht  with  the  felf-fame  weaknes  that  thou  art  : 
And  if  my  flate  had  beene  as  meane  as  thine, 
And  fuch  a  beauty  to  allure  his  eye 
(Though  I  may  promife  much  to  mine  owne  flrength), 
What  might  haue  hapt  to  mee  I  cannot  tell. 
Nay  feare  not ;  for  I  fpeak  it  with  my  heart, 
And  in  thy  forrow  truly  beare  a  part. 

Jane.     Moft  high  and  mighty  Queene,  may  I  be- 

lieue 

There  can  be  found  fuch  mercy  in  a  woman  1 
And  in  a  queene,  more  then  in  a  wife, 
So  deeply  wrongd  as  I  haue  wronged  you  1 
In  this  bright  chriftal  mirror  of  your  mercy, 
I  fee  the  greatneffe  of  my  fmne  the  more, 
And  makes  my  fault  more  odious  in  mine  eyes. 
Your  princely  pity  now  doth  wound  me  more 
Than  all  your  threatnings  euer  did  before. 

Queen.     Rife,  my  fweet  Jane  I  fay  thou  malt  not 

kneele 

Oh  God  forbid  that  Edwards  queene  mould  hate 
Her,  whom  me  knowes  he  doth  fo  dearely  loue. 
My  loue  to  her,  may  purchafe  me  his  loue. 
Jane,  fpeak  well  vnto  the  King  of  me  and  mine ; 
Remember  not  my  fons  ore-hafty  fpeech  ; 
Thou  art  my  lifter,  and  I  loue  thee  fo. 


1 30  The  fecond part  of 

I  know  thou  maiefl  do  much  with  my  deare  lord. 
Speak  well  of  vs  to  him  in  any  cafe, 
And  I  and  mine  will  loue  and  cherifh  thee. 
Jane.     All  I  can  do  is  all  too  little  too, 
But  to  requite  the  leall  part  of  this  grace. 
The  deareft  thoughts  that  harbour  in  this  brefl 
Shall  in  your  feruice  onely  be  expreft. 

Enter  King  Edward  angerly,  his  Lords  following,  and 
Sir  Robert  Brackenburie. 

King.     What,  is  my  Jane  with  her  ?     It  is  to  true. 
See  where  me  hath  her  downe  vpon  her  knees  ! 
Why,    how  now    Beffet   what,   will  you  wrong    my 

Janet 
Come  hither,  love  !  what  hath  me  done  to  thee  1 

Jane /#/.$•  on  her  knees  to  the  King. 
Jane.     Oh,  royall  Edward!  loue,  loue  thy  beaute 
ous  Queen 

The  onely  perfect  mirrour  of  her  kind, 
For  all  the  choifefl  vertues  can  be  named  ! 
Oh,  let  not  my  bewitching  lookes  withdraw 
Your  deare  affections  from  your  dearer  queene  ! 
But  to  requite  the  grace  that  (he  hath  fhowne, 
To  me,  the  worthleffe  creature  on  this  earth. 
To  banifh  me  the  Court  immediately. 
Great  King  let  me  but  beg  one  boone  of  thee, 
That  Shores  wife  ne'er  do  her  more  iniury  ! 

As  Jane  kneels  on  one  fide  the  King^fo  the 

Queene  fteps  and  kneeles  on  the  other. 
Queen.     Nay,  then,  He  beg  againft  her,  royal  Ed 
ward 
Loue  thy  Jane  ftill ;  nay  more,  if  more  may  be  ; 

ktffing  her. 

And  this  is  all  the  harm  that  at  my  hands 
She   mail   indure   for  it.     Oh    where    my    Edward 

loues. 
It  ill  befeemes  his  Queene  to  grudge  thereat. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          131 

King.     Say'fl  them    me  fo,  Bejje\    on   my  kingly 

word, 

Edward  will  honour  thee  in  heart  for  this. 
But,  trufl  me,  Beffe,  I  greatly  was  afraid 
I  fhould  not  finde  ye  in  fo  good  a  tune. 
How  now,  what  would  our  Conftable  of  the  Tower  ? 

Bra.     The  Queen  and  miflrefs  Shore  do  know  my 
fuit. 

Queen.     It  is  for  Stranguidge  and  his  men  at  fea. 
Edward,  needs  muft  you  pardon  them. 

King.     Haue  I  not  vowd  the  contrary  already  ? 
Difhonour  me,  when  I  haue  made  a  league  1 
My  word  is  paft,  and  they  mail  fuffer  death  ; 
Or  neuer  more  let  me  fee  France  againe. 

Jane.     Why,  there  is  one  was  but  a  paffenger. 
Shall  he  die  too  1 

King.     Pafle  me  no  pafTage,  Jam. 
Were  he  in  company,  he  dies  for  company. 

Queen.     Good  Jane,  intreat  for  them. 

Jane.     Come  Edward,  I  mufl  not  take  this  anfwer. 
Needs  mufl  I  haue  fome  grace  for  Stranguidge. 

King.     Why  Jane,  haue  I  not  denide  my  Queene  1 
Yet  what  ift,  Jane,  I  would  deny  to  thee  ? 
I  prithee,  Brackenbury,  be  not  thou  difpleafde  : 
My  word  is  paft.     Not  one  of  them  mail  liue. 
One,  go  and  fee  them  forthwith  fent  to  death. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Clarence,  Glofler,  and  Shaw. 

Gloft.     I  cannot  fee  this  prophecy  you  fpeake  of 
Should  any  way  fo  much  difpleafe  the  King ; 
And  yet  I  promife  you  good  brother  Clarence, 
Tis  fuch  a  letter  as  concerns  vs  both. 
That  G.  mould  put  away  King  Edwards  children, 
And  fit  vpon  his  throne  !  that  G.  mould  ?  well. 

Cla.  God  blefs  the  King  and  thofe  two  fweet  young 
princes. 

K  2 


132  The  fecond part  of 

Gloft.     Amen,  good  brother  Clarence. 

Shaw.     Amen. 

Ghojl.     And  fend  them  all  to  Heauen  Ihortly,  I 
befeech  him. 

Cla.      The  Kings  much   trobled,   in   his  ficknes7 
with  it. 

Gloft.     1  promife  you  he  is,  and  very  much. 
But,  Doctor  Shaw,  who  prophefied  that  G. 
Should  be  fo  fadly  ominous  to  vs  ? 

Shaw.     My  lord  of  Glofler,  I  receiued  the  fame 
From  old  Frier  Anfelme  of  S.  Bartholmews. 

Gloft.     A  great  learnd  man  he  was  >  and,  as  I  haue 

heard, 

Hath  prophefied  of  very  many  things  : 
I  promife  you,  it  troubles  me. 
I  hope,  in  me  his  prophefy  is  true.  afide. 

Clar.      And   fo    it   does   me,   I  tell  you,  brother 
Glofler. 

Gloft.     I  am  fure  it  does,  for,  look  you,  brother 

Clarence, 

We  know  not  how  his  highnes  will  apply  it  : 
We  are  but  two,  yourfelf  my  lord,  and  I. 
Should  the  yong  princes  faile  which  God  defend. 

Clar.     Which  God  defend 

D.  Shaw.     Which  God  defend. 

Gloft.  aftde.     But   they  mould  be  cut  off.     Ameny 

amen. 

You  brother,  firft,  and  mould  your  iffue  faile, 
Poor  I  am  next,  the  yongeft  of  the  three. 
But  how  far  I  am  from  a  thought  of  that, 
Heau'n  witnefs  with  me  that  I  wifh  you  dead.      aftde. 

Clar.     Brother  I  durft  be  fworne. 

Gloft.     God  bleffe  you  all ! 
And  take  you  to  him,  if  it  be  his  will  ! 
Now.   brother,   this    prophefie  of    G.    troubling  the 

King, 

He  may  as  well  apply  it  vnto  Glofter, 
My  dukedoms  name,  if  he  be  iealious, 


King  Edward  t lie  fourth,          133 

As  vnto  George,  your  name,  good  brother  Clarence. 
God  help,  God  help,  i'faith  it  troubles  me, 
You  would  not  think  how :  afide  that    any  of  you 
Hue. 

Clar.     It  cannot  chufe  :  how  innocent  I  am, 
And  how  vnfpotted  are  my  loyall  thoughts 
Vnto  his  highnes  and  thofe  fweete  yong  princes, 
God  be  my  record. 

Gloft.     Who.  you  ?     I,  I  durfl  anfwer  for  you, 
That  I  mail  cut  you  off  ere  it  be  long.  afidt. 

But,  reuerend  doctor,  you  can  onely  tell, 
Being  his  highnes  confeffor,  how  he  takes  it. 
Shaw,  you  know  my  mind,  a  villaine  like  myfelf. 

afide  to  Shaw. 

Shaw.     My  lord  of  Clarence,  I  mufl  tell  your  lord- 

fliip, 

His  highnefs  is  much  troubled  in  his  ficknes 
With  this  fame  prophecy  of  G.     Who  is  this  G 1 
Oft-times  he  will  demaund  ;  then  will  he  figh, 
And  name  his  brother  George,  yourfelf,  my  lord, 
And  then  he  ftrikes  his  breaft,  I  promife  you. 
This  morning,  in  the  extreamefl  of  his  fit, 
He  lay  fo  flill,  we  all  thought  he  had  flept, 
When  fuddenly,  George  is  the  G.  quoth  he, 
And  gaue  a  groane,  and  turnd  his  face  away. 

Clar.      God   be   my   witneffe,    witneffe    with    my 

foule, 

My  iuft  and  vpright  thoughts  to  him  and  his, 
I  (land  fo  guiltleffe  and  fo  innocent, 
As  I  could  wilh  my  breaft  to  be  tranfparent, 
And  my  thoughts  written  in  great  letters  there, 
The  world  might  reade  the  fecrets  of  my  foule. 
.  Glqft.      Ah  brother  Clarence,  when   you   are   fuf- 

peaed 

Well,  well,  it  is  a  wicked  world  the  while : 
But  fhal  I  tell  you,  brother,  in  plaine  tearms, 
I  feare  yourfelfe  and  I  haue  enemies 
About  the  King,  God  pardon  them, 


1 34  The  fecond part  of 

The  world  was  neuer  worfer  to  be  trufted. 

Ah  brother  George,  where  is  that  loue  that  was  ? 

Ah  it  is  banifht,  brother,  from  the  world. 

Ah,  confcience,  confcience,  and  true  brotherhood, 

Tis  gone,  tis  gone.     Brother,  I  am  your  friend, 

I  am  your  louing  brother,  your  own  felfe, 

And  loue  you  as  my  foule  ;  vfe  me  in  what  you  pleafe, 

And  you  (hall  fee  He  do  a  brothers  part, 

Send  you  to  Heaun,  I  hope,  ere  it  be  long  :          afide. 

I  am  a  true-ftampt  villaine  as  euer  lined. 

Clar.     I  know  you-  will.     Then,  brother,  I  befeech 

you, 

Plead  you  mine  innocence  vnto  the  King, 
And  in  meane  time,  to  tell  my  loyalty, 
He  keep  within  my  houfe  at  Bainards  Caftle, 
Vntil  I  heare  how  my  dread  foueraign  takes  it. 

Gloft.     Do  fo,  good  brother. 

Clar.     Farewel,  good  brother  Glofter. 

Gloft.     My  teares   will  fcarcely   let   me   take   my 

leaue, 

I  loue  you  fo  :  farewell,  fweet  George.  Exit  Clar. 

So,  is  he  gone  1  now  Shaw  tis  in  thy  power 
To  bind  me  to  thee  euerlaflingly, 
And  there  is  not  one  ftep  that  I  fhall  rife, 
But  I  will  draw  thee  with  me  vnto  greatneffe. 
Thou  fhalt  fit  in  my  bofome  as  my  foule. 
Incenfe  the  King,  now  being  as  thou  art, 
So  neare  about  him,  and  his  confeilor, 
That  this  G.  onely  is  George,  Duke  of  Clarence. 
Do6lor,  thou  neecPft  not  my  inftrucflion ; 
Thou  haft  a  fearching  brain e,  a  nimble  fpirit, 
Able  to  matter  any  mans  affections. 
Effect  it,  Shaw,  and  bring  it  to  pafs  once, 
He  make  thee  the  greatefl  Shaw  that  euer  was. 

Shaw.     My  lord,  I  am  going  by  commandement 
Vnto  the  Marfhalfea,  to  Captain  Stranguidge, 
For  piracy  of  late  condemnd  to  die, 
There  to  confeffe  him  and  his  company  ; 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  135 

That   done,   He    come    with    fpeed    backe    to    the 

King, 
And  make  no  doubt  but  ile  effect  the  thing. 

Gloft.     Farewell,  gentle  Doctor. 

Shaw.     Farewell,  my  lord  of  Glofter.  Exit. 

Gloft.     Let  me  awake  my  fleeping  wits  awhile. 
Ha,  the  marke  thou  aimft  at,  Richard,  is  a  crowne, 
And  many  ftand  betwixt  thee  and  the  fame. 
What  of  all  that  1     Doctor  play  thou  thy  part : 
lie  climbe  vp  by  degrees,  through  many  a  heart.  Exit. 

Enter  Brackenburie  with  Vaux  the  Keeper. 

Bra.     Why,  matter  Vaux,  is  there  no  remedy  ? 
But  inflanftly  they  muft  be  led  to  death  ? 
Can  it  not  be  deferrd  till  afternoon, 
Or  but  two  hours,  in  hope  to  get  reprie  ? 

Keeper.     Maifter  Lieutenant,  tis  in  vaine  to  fpeake  : 
The  Kings  incenfd,  and  will  not  pardon  them. 
The  men  are  patient,  and  refolude  to  die ; 
The  Captaine  and  that  other  gentleman 
Haue  caft  the  dice  whether  fhall  fuffer  firft. 

Bra.      How  fell   the   lot,    to   Stranguidge    or    to 
him  ? 

Keeper.     The  guiltlefle  pafienger  muft  firft  go  toot. 

Bra.     They  are  all  guiltleffe  from  intent  of  ill. 

Keeper.     And  yet  muft  die  for  doing  of  the  deed. 
Befides,  the  Duke  of  Exeter  found  dead, 
And  naked,  floating  vp  and  down  the  fea, 
Twixt  Calice  and  our  coaft,  is  laide  to  them, 
That  they  mould  rob  and  caft  him  ouerboord. 

Bra.     My  foule  mall  be  pawne,  they  neuer  knew 
of  it. 

Keeper.     Well  bring  them  forth. 

Bra.     Stay  them  yet  but  an  houre. 

Keeper.     I  dare  not  doe    it,    Sir  Robert  Bracken- 
bury  : 

You  are  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower  yourfelfe, 
And  know  the  peril  of  protracting  time  : 


136  The  fecond  part  of 

Moreouer  heres  that  pickthank,  Do6lor  Shaw, 
The  Duke  of  Glqfters  fpaniel,  fhriuing  them. 
Come,  bring  them  forth. 
Bra.     Poor  Stranguidge,  muft  thou  die  ? 

Enter  one  bearing  a  filuer  oare  before  Stranguidge, 
Shore,  and  two  or  three  more  pinioned,  and  two  or 
three'  with  bills  and  a  hangman. 

Bra.ftil.     I  dare  not  fay  good  morrow,  but  ill  day, 
That  Harry  Stranguidge  is  thus  caft  away. 

Stran.      Good    coufin    Brackenbury,    be    as    well 

content 

To  fee  me  die,  as  I  to  fuffer  death. 
Be  witnefs  that  I  die  an  honeft  man, 
Becaufe  my  fa6l  proues  ill  through  ignorance ; 
And  for  the  Duke  of  Exeter  his  death, 
So  ipeed  my  foul  as  I  am  innocent. 
Here  goes  my  grief,  this  guiltlefs  gentleman, 
Like  sEfops  ftork,  that  dies  for  company, 
And  came  (God  knows)  but  as  a  paffenger. 
Ah  mailer  Flud,  a  thoufand  flouds  of  woe 
Ore-flow  my  foul  that  thou  muft  perifh  fo. 

Shore.     Good  Captaine,  let  no  perturbation 
Hinder  our  paffage  to  a  better  world. 
This  lafl  breaths  blaft  will  waft  our  weary  fouls 
Ouer  deaths  gulf,  to  heauens  moft  happy  port, 
There  is  a  little  battle  to  be  fought, 

The  while  the  Hangman  prepares,  Shore  at  this  fpeech 
mounts  vp  the  ladder. 

Wherein  by  lot  the  leading  muft  be  mine. 
Second  me,  Captaine,  and  this  bitter  breakfaft 
Shall  bring  a  fweeter  fupper  with  the  Saints. 

Shaw.     This  Chrillian  patience,    at   the  point  of 

death, 

Doth  argue  he  hath  led  no  wicked  life, 
How  euer  Heauen  hath  laide  this  crofs  on  him. 
Well,  Matthew  Flud  for  fo  thou  call'ft  thyfelf, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          137 

Finifli  a  good  courfe  as  thou  haft  begun, 

And  clear  thy  conference  by  confeffion. 

What  know' ft  thou  of  the  Duke  of  Exeters  death  ? 

Shore.     So  God  refpecl  the  waygate  of  my  foule, 
As  I  know  nothing. 

Shaw.     Then  concerning  this 

For  which  thou  died,  knew  Stranguidge  of  the  league 
Betwixt  the  kings  before  he  took  that  prize  ? 

Shore.     No,  in  my  confcience. 

Shaw.     Strangutdge,  what  fay  you  ? 
You  fee  theres  but  a  turn  betwixt  your  Hues  ; 
You  mull  be  next :  confefs,  and  faue  your  foule, 
Concerning  that  wherein  I  queftion'd  him. 
I  am  your  ghoftly  father,  to  abfolue 
You  of  your  fins,  if  you  confefs  the  truth. 

Stran.     True,    D.   Shaw,    and,  .as    I    hope    for 

heauen, 

In  that  great  day  when  we  mail  all  appeare, 
I  neither  knew  how  that  good  Duke  came  dead, 
Nor  of  the  league,  til  I  had  tane  the  prize. 
Neither  was  Find  (that  innocent  dying  man) 
Euer  with  me  but  as  a  paffenger. 

Shaw.     More  happy  he.     Well,  JFlud,  forgiue  the 

world, 
As  thou  wilt  haue  forgiueneffe  from  the  heauens. 

Shore.     O  fo  I  do,  and  pray  the  world  forgiue 
What  wrong  I  did  whilft  I  therein  did  liue ; 
And  now  I  pray  you  turne  your  paines  to  them, 
And  leaue  me  priuate  for  a  little  fpace 
To  meditate  vpon  my  parting  hence. 

Shaw.      Do,  gentle  Find,   and   we   will  pray  for 
thee. 

Shore.     Pray  not  for  Flud>  but  pray  for  Matthew 

Shore ; 

For  Shore  couered  with  the  cloak  of  Flud. 
If  I  haue  finned  in  changing  of  my  name, 
Forgiue  me,  God,  twas  done  to  hide  my  mame. 
And  I  forgiue  the  world,  King  Edward  firft, 
That  wrackt  my  ftate,  by  winning  of  my  wife  ; 


138  The  fecond  part  of 

And  though  he  would  not  pardon  trefpaffe  fmall 

In  thefe,  in  me  God  knowes  no  fault  at  all, 

I  pardon  him,  though  guilty  of  my  fall. 

Perhaps  he  would,  if  he  had  knowne  twas  I ; 

But  twenty  deaths  I  rather  wifh  to  die, 

Than  liue  beholding  for  one  minutes  breath 

To  him,  that  liuing,  wounded  me  with  death. 

Death  of  my  joy,  and  hell  of  my  defame, 

Which  now  mall  die  vnder  this  borrow' d  name. 

Jane,  God  forgiue  thee,  euen  as  I  forgiue ; 

And  pray  thou  maift  repent  while  thou  doft  liue. 

I  am  as  glad  to  leaue  this  loathed  light, 

As  to  embrace  thee  on  our  marriage-night. 

To  die  vnknown  thus  is  my  greateft  good, 

That   Matthew   Shores    not    hanged,    but    Matthew 

Floud\ 

For  flouds  of  woe  haue  wafhd  away  the  more 
That  neuer  wife  no  kin  mail  looke  on  more. 
Now,  when  you  will,  I  am  prepard  to  go. 

Enter  Jocky  running  and  crying. 

Jocky.  Haud,  haud  !  fay  for  fpeed  !  vntaye,  vn- 
truffe,  pull  downe,  pull  off!  God  feaue  the  King ! 
off  with  the  helters  !  hence  with  the  prifoners  !  a  par 
don,  a  pardon  ! 

Bra.     Good  news,  vnlookt  for !     Welcome,  gen 
tle  friend, 
Who  brings  the  pardon  1 

Jocky.  Stay,  firft  let  ma  blaw  !  my  maiflrefs,  maif- 
trefs  Shore,  fhee  brings  tha  pardon,  tha  Kings  par- 
donne  :  Off  with  thofe  bands  !  beftow  them  o'  tha 
hangman  !  May  maiflrefs  made  me  run  the  neareft 
way  ore  tha  fields.  She  raids  a  pace  the  hee  way. 
She's  at  hand  bay  this.  Sirrah,  ye  that  preach,  come 
down.  Let  Doctor  Shaw  ha  your  place:  hees  tha 
better  fcholar.  Maiflrefs  Shore  brings  a  new  leffon 
for  you. 

Shore.     O  I  had  read  my  latefl  leffon  well, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          139 

Had  he  been  ready  to  haue  faid  Amen. 

point  to  the  hangman. 
Now  (hall  I  Hue  to  fee  my  fliame  agen. 

S ho  are  comes  down. 
Oh,  had  I  dide  vnwitting  to  my  wife, 
Rather  than  fee  her,  though  (he  bring  me  life. 

Enter  Jane,  in  hafle,  in  her  riding-cloak  and  faue-guard, 
with  a  par  don  in  her  hand. 

Jane.     Alas  I  fee  that  eu'n  my  fmalleft  flay 
Had  loft  my  labour,  and  caft  them  away, 
God  knows,  I  hafled  all  that  ere  I  might. 
Here,  Matter  Vaux,  King  Edward  greets  ye  well : 
His  gracious  pardon  frees  this  gentleman, 
And  all  his  company,  from  fhameful  death. 

All.     God  faue  the  King,  and  God  blefs  Miflrefs 
Shore. 

Jocky.     Amen;  and  keep  thefe  fra  coming  here 
any  rnair. 

Jatie.     You  muft  difcharge  them,  paying  of  their 

fees, 

Which  for  I  fear  their  ftore  is  very  fmall, 
I  will  defray.     Hold,  here,  take  purfe  and  all, 
Nay,  mailer  Faux,  tis  gold  ;  if  not  enough, 
Send  to  me  :  I  will  pay  you  royally. 

Stran.     Lady,  in  behalf  of  all  the  reft, 
With  humble  thanks  I  yeeld  myfelf  your  flaue. 
Command  their  feruice  and  command  my  life. 

Jane.     No,  Captain   Strangutdge ',    let    the    King 

command 

Your  Hues  and  feruice,  who  hath  giuen  you  life. 
Thefe  and  fuch  offices  confcience  bids  me  doe. 

Shaw.     Pity  that  ere  awry  fhe  trod  her  fhoe. 

Shore.     O  had  that  confcience  prickt  when   loue 
prouokt. 

Bra.     Lady  the  lafl  but  not  the  leafl  in  debt, 
To  your  deuotion  for  my  coufins  life, 
I  render  thanks  :  yet  thanks  is  but  a  breath, 


140  The  fecond  part  of 

Command  me,  madam,  during  life. 
Old  Brackenbiiry  vowes  for  you  to  ftand 
Whilft  I  haue  limbs  or  any  foot  of  land. 

Shore.     Thus  is  her  glory  builded  on  the  fand. 
Jane.     Thanks,   good  Mailer   Lieutenant  of  the 

Tower. 
Sirra,  prepare  my  horfe  :  why  flay  you 

here?  (2o  Joe.) 

Pray  ye,  commend  me  to  my  noble  friend 
The  Duke  of  Clarence,  now  your  prifoner  : 
Bid  him  not  doubt  the  Kings  difpleafures  pafl, 
I  hope  to  gain  him  fauour  and  releafe. 

Bra.     God  grant  ye  may,    he's    a  noble  gentle 
man. 
Shaw.     My  patron  Glofter  will  crofs  it  if  he  can. 

Exit. 

Enter  Meffenger. 

Mef.     Where's  miftris  Shorel      Lady,  I   come  in 

poft. 

The  King  hath  had  a  very  dangerous  fit 
Since  you  came  from  him.     Twice  his  maiefly 
Hath  fwounded,  and  with  much  ado  reuiued  ; 
And  flill,  as  breath  will  giue  him  leaue  to  fpeak, 
He  calls  'for  you.     The  Queene  and  all  the  lords 
Haue  fent  to  feeke  ye  :  hade  vnto  his  grace, 
Or  elfe  I  fear  youle  neuer  fee  his  face. 

Jane.     O  God  defend,  good  friends,  pray  for  the 

King. 

More  bitter  are  the  newes  which  he  doth  bring, 
Than  thofe  were  fweet  I  brought  to  you  but  late  : 
If  Edward  die,  confounded  is  my  flate. 
He  hafte  unto  him,  and  will  fpend  my  bloud 
To  faue  his  life,  or  to  him  any  good. 

Exeunt  Jhe  and  the  Mcjjenger. 

Shore.     And  fo  would  I  for  thee,  hadfl  thou  beene 

true  : 
But  if  he  die,  bid  all  thy  pompe  adieu. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  141 

Bra.     Beleeue  me,  but  I  do  not  like  thefe  newes 
Of  the  Kings  dangerous  ficknefs. 

Keeper.     No,  nor  I. 

Captain  and  Matter  Fliidde,  and  all  the  rett, 
I  do  reioice  your  pardon  was  obtained 
Before  thefe  newes,  thefe  inaufpicious  news  : 
If  the  King  die,  the  ftate  will  foon  be  changed. 
Matter  Lieutenant !  youle  go  to  the  Tower. 
He  take  my  leaue.     Gallants,  God  buoye  all. 

Exeunt  Vaux  and  his  traine. 

Stran..    God  buoye,  Matter  Vaux !     I  wus  ye  ha' 
loft  good  guetts. 

Bra.     You  mail  be  my  guett  for  a  night  or  two, 
Coufm,  till  your  own  lodging  be  prepared. 
But,  tell  me,  fir,  what  meanes  hath  matter  Fludde. 

Strang.     I  cannot  tell :  He  ask  him  if  ye  will. 

Bra.     Do  fo ;  and  if  his  fortunes  be  debafde, 
He  entertaine  him,  if  hele  dwell  with  me, 
On  good  codition. 

Stran.     Matter  Matthew  Floode, 
Hear  ye  my  cofm  Brackenburies  mind? 
He  hath  conceiud  fuch  liking  of  your  parts, 
That  if  your  means  furmount  not  his  fuppofe, 
Hele  entertain  ye  gladly  at  the  Tower 
To  wait  on  him,  and  put  ye  in  great  truft. 

Shore.     In  what  I  vndertake,  I  will  be  jutt, 
And  hold  me  happy,  if  my  diligence 
May  pleafe  fo  worthy  a  gentleman  as  he. 
Whatere  my  fortunes  haue  been,  they  are  now 
Such  as  to  feruice  make  their  maitter  bow. 

Bra.     No,  Flood,  more  like  a  friend  and  fellow- 
mate 

I  mean  to  vfe  thee,  then  a  feruitor, 
And  place  thee  in  fome  credit  in  the  Tower, 
And  giue  thee  means  to  Hue  in  fome  good  fort. 

Shore.     I  thanke  ye,  fir.     God  grant  I  may  deferue 
it. 

Bra.     Coufin,  and  all  your  crue,  come  home  with 
me, 


142  The  fecond part  of 

Where  after  forrow  we  may  merry  be. 

Shore.     The  Tower  will  be  a  place  of  fecret  reft, 
Where  I  may  heare   good    newes  and  bad,  and  vfe 

the  beft. 

God  blefs  the  King  a  worfe  may  weare  the  crowne ; 
And  then,  Jane  Shore,  thy  credit  will  come  downe. 
For  though  He  neuer  bed  nor  bord  with  thee, 
Yet  thy  definition  wifh  I  not  to  fee : 
Becaufe  I  loude  thee  when  thou  waft  my  wife, 
Not  for  now  fauing  my  difdained  life, 
Which  lafts  too  long.  ^God  grant  vs  both  to  mend, 
Well  I  muft  in  my  feruice  to  attend.  Exit. 

The  Lord  Louell  and  Doftor  Shaw  meet  on  the 
Jtage. 

Shaw.     Well  met,  my  good  lord  Louell. 

Lou.     Whither  away  fo  faft  goes  Doctor  Shaw  ? 

Shaw.     Why,  to  the  Tower,  to  fhriue  the  Duke  of 

Clarence, 

Who  as  I  hear  is  falln  fo  grieuous  fick, 
As  it  is  thought  he  can  by  no  means  fcape. 

Lou.  He  neither  can  nor  mall,  I  warrant  thee. 
Shaw.  I  hope  my  lord  he  is  not  dead  already. 
Lov.  But  I  hope  fir  he  is :  I  am  fure  I  faw  him 

dead, 

Of  a  flies  death ;  drownd  in  a  butte  of  Malmfey. 
Shaw.     Drownd  in  a  butte  of  Malmfey  !   that  is 

ftrange, 
Doubtlefs  he  neuer  would  mifdoe  himfelf  1 

Lou.      No ;  that  thou  knowft  right  well :  he  had 

fome  helpers  : 

Thy  hand  was  in  it  with  the  Duke  of  Glofters, 
As  fmoothly  as  thou  feekft  to  couer  it. 

Shaw.     O  foule  words,  my  lord  no  more  of  that  : 
The   world    knowes   nothing :    then  what   mould   I 

feare  ? 

Doth  not  your  honour  feeke  promotion  ? 
Oh  giue  the  Doctor  then  a  little  leaue, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 43 

So  that  he  gaine  preferment  with  a  King, 
Cares  not  who  goes   to  wracke,  whofe   heart   doth 
wring. 

Lou.     A  king?  what  King  ? 

Shaw.     Why  Richard  man,  who  elfe  1  good  Lord' 

I  fee, 
Wife  men  fometimes  haue  weake  capacity. 

Lou.     Why,  is  not  Edward  liuing  ?  and  if  he  were 

not, 
Hath  he  not  children  1  what  mail  become  of  them  ] 

Shaw.     Why,  man,  lining  for  beds,  a  knife  or  fo, 
What,  make  a  boy  a  king,  and  a  man  by, 
Richard,  a  man  for  vs  ?  fie,  that  were  fhame. 

Lou.     Nay,  then  I  fee,  if  Edward  were  deceaft, 
Which  way  the  game  would  go. 

Shaw.     What  elfe,  my  lord  ? 
That  way  the  current  of  our  fortune  runs, 
By  noble  Richard,  gallant  royall  Richard : 
He  is  the  man  muft  onely  do  vs  good ; 
So  I  haue  honour,  let  me  fwimme  through  bloud. 
My  lord,  be  but  at  Pauls  Crofs  on  Sunday  next ; 
I  hope  I  haue  it  here  mall  ioundly  proue 
King  Edwards  children  not  legitimate. 
Nay,  and  that  for  King  Edward  ruling  now, 
And  George  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  fo  late  dead, 
Their  mother  hapt  to  tread  the  fhoe  awry. 

Lou.     Why,  what  is  Richard  then  ? 

Shaw.     Tut,  lawfull  man  :  he  laies  it  fo  himfelfe  ; 
And  what  he  faies,  He  be  fo  bold  to  fweare, 
Though  in  my  foule  I  know  it  otherwife. 
Beware  promotion,  while  you  Hue,  my  lord. 

Enter  Catesby. 

Cat.  A  flaff,  a  ftaffe  !  a  thoufand  crownes  for  a 
ftaff! 

Lou.     What  ftaff,  Sir  William  Catesby  ? 

Cat.  Why,  man,  a  white  ftaffe  for  my  lord  pro 
tector. 


144  The  fecond  part  of 

Lou.     Why,  is  King  Edward  dead  ? 

Cat.     Dead,  Louell,  dead.     And  Richard,  our  good 

lord, 

Is  made  proteclor  of  the  fweete  young  prince. 
O,  for  a  ftaffe,  where  might  I  haue  a  flaffe, 
That  I  might  firft  prefent  it  to  his  hand  1 

Shaw.     Now,  do  I  fmell  two  bifhopricks  at  leaft. 
My  fermon  mail  be  pepperd  found  for  this. 

Enter  miftris  Shore,  weeping,  Jockie  following. 

Cat.      Why,  how  now,  miflris  Shore  ?   what,    put 

finger  in  the  eie  ? 
Nay,  then,  I  fee  you  haue  fome  caufe  to  cry. 

Lou.     I  blame  her  not.     Her  chiefefl  flay  is  gone, 
The  only  flaff  me  had  to  leane  vpon. 
I  fee  by  her  thefe  tidings  are  too  true. 

Jane.     I,  my  lord  Louell  \  they  are  too  true,  in 
deed. 

Royal  King  Edward  now  hath  breath'd  his  lafl ; 
The  Queen  turnd  out,  and  euery  friend  put  by ; 
None  now  admitted,  but  whom  Richard  pleafe. 

Lou.     Why,  doubtless  Richard  will  be  kind  to  you 

Jane.     Ah,  my  lord  Louell,  God  bleffe  me  from  his 

kindnefs  : 

No  fooner  was  the  white  ftaffe  in  his  hand, 
But  finding  me  and  the  right  woful  queene, 
Sadly  bemoning  fuch  a  mighty  lofs, 
Here  is  no  place,  quoth  he  ;  you  muft  be  gone  : 
We  haue  other  matters  now  to  think  vpon. 
For  you  (quoth  he  to  me)  and  bit  his  lip, 
And  flroke  me  with  his  ftaff,  but  faid  no  more. 
Whereby  I  know  he  meaneth  me  no  good. 

Cat.     Well,  miftris  Shore,  'tis  like   to  be  a  bufn 

time  : 

Shift  for  yourfelfe,  Come  lads,  let  vs  begone, 
Royall  King  Richard  muft  be  waite  vpon. 

Shaw.  Well,  miftris  Shoare,  if  you  haue  need  of  me 
You  mall  command  me  to  the  vttermoft.  Exeunt 


King  Edward  the  Fourth.          1 4  5 

Jane.     Firfl,  let  me  die,  ere  I  do  put  my  trufl 
In  any  fliering  fpaniel  of  you  all. 
Go,Jocky,  take  down  all  my  hangings, 
And  quickly  fee  my  trunks  be  conuayd  forth 
To  miflrefs  Blages,  an  Inne  in  Lombard  Streete, 
The  Flower-de-luce.     Good  Jock,  make  fome  fpeed  ; 
She,  fhe  muft  be  my  refuge  in  this  need. 
See  it  done  quickly,  Jocky.  Exit. 

Jocky.  Whickly,  quotha  1  marry,  here's  a  whick 
chaunge,  indeed,  fie  whick  chaunge  did  I  neuer  fee 
before.  Now,  dream  I,  that  Ife  be  a  very  puir  fellow, 
and  hardly  ha'  any  filler  to  drink  with  a  gude-fellow. 
But  what  fland  I  tattling  here.  I  muft  go  do  my 
maiflrefs  bidding ;  carry  all  her  Huff  and  gear  to  maif- 
trefs  Blages  at  the  Flower-de-luce  in  Lombard  Street. 
Whick  then,  difpatch.  Exit. 

Enter  Brackenbury  and  Floud,  to  them  the  two  young 
princes,  Edward  and  Richard,  Glofter,  Catef. 
Louell  and  Tirill. 

Bra.      Come    hither,    Flood   let    me    heare    thy 

opinion. 

Thou  knoweft  I  build  vpon  thy  confidence, 
And  honeft  dealing  in  my  greateft  affaires. 
I  haue  receiued  letters  from  the  Duke, 
Glofter,  I  meane,  Proteclor  of  the  land, 
Who  giues  in  charge  the  Tower  be  preparde, 
This  night,  to  entertaine  the  two  young  princes. 
It  is  my  duty  to  obey,  I  know ; 
But  manifold  fufpicions  troubles  me. 

Shore.     He  is  their  vncle,  fir ;  and,  in  that  fenfe, 
Nature  mould  warrant  their  fecurity  : 
Next,  his  deceafed  brother,  at  his  death, 
To  Richards  care  committed  both  the  realme, 
And  their  protection  ;  where  humanity 
Stands  as  an  orator  to  plead  againfl 
All  wrong  fuggeflion  of  vnciuil  thoughts  : 
Befide  you  are  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower ; 

i  L 


1 46  The  fecond  part  of 

Say  there  mould  be  any  hurt  pretended, 
The  priuiledge  of  your  authority 
Pries  into  euery  corner  of  this  houfe, 
And   what   can   then  be  done  without    your  know 
ledge  I 

Bra.  Thou  fayfl  true,  Flood,  though  Richard  be  Pro 
tector, 

When  once  they  are  within  the  Tower  limits, 
The  charge  of  them  (vnlefs  he  derogate 
From  this  my  office,  which  was  neuer  feen 
In  any  kings  time)  doth  belong  to  me  : 
And  ere  that  Brackenbury  will  confent 
Or  fuffer  wrong  be  done  vnto  thefe  babes, 
His  fword,  and  all  the''flrength  within  the  Tower 
Shall  be  oppos'd  againft  the  proudefl  comer. 
Be  it  to  my  foul,  as  I  entend  to  them  ! 

Shore.     And  faith  in  me  vnto  this  commonwealth, 
And  truth  to  men,  hath  hitherto  beene  feene 
The  pylot  that  hath  guided  my  Hues  courfe, 
Though  twas  my  fortune  to  be  wrongd  in  both, 
And  therefore  fir  neither  the  mightieft  frowne, 
Nor  any  bribes,  mail  winne  me  otherwife. 

Bra.     Tis   well  refolued.       Still,   methinks,    they 

mould 

Be  fafe  enough  with  vs  ;  and  yet  I  feare 
But  now  no  more  :  it  feemes  they  are  at  hand. 

P.  Ed.     Vncle,  what  gentleman  is  that  1         Enter. 
Glos.     It  is,  fweet  prince,  Lieutenant  of  the  Tower. 
P.  Ed.     Sir,  we  are  come  to  be  your  guefls  to 
night. 

I  pray  you,  tell  me,  did  you  euer  know 
Our  father  Edward  lodgde  within  this  place  ? 

Bra.     Neuer  to  lodge,  my  liege ;  but  oftentimes, 
On  other  occafions,  I  haue  feene  him  here. 
Ri.      Brother,  laft  night,   when    you  did  fend  for 

me. 

My  mother  told  me,  hearing  we  mould  lodge 
Within  the  Tower,  that  "it  was  a  prifon, 
And  therefore  maruell'd  that  my  vncle  Glofter, 


King  Edward  the  Fourth.         147 

Of  all  the  houfes  for  a  kings  receipt 

Within  this  city,  had  appointed  none 

Where  you  might  keep  your  court  but  only  here. 

Glos.      Vile   brats,  how  they  do   defcant   on  the 

Tower  \ 

My  gentle  nephew,  they  were  ill  aduifed 
To  tutor  you  with  fuch  vnfitting  terms 
(Who  ere  they  were)  againfl  this  royal  manfion. 
What  if  fome  part  of  it  hath  been  referu'd 
To  be  a  prifon  for  nobility  1 
Follows  it  therefore,  that  it  cannot  ferue 
To  any  other  vfe  ?     Ccefar  himfelf, 
That  built  the  fame,  within  it  kept  his  court, 
And  many  kings  fince  him  :  the  rooms  are  large, 
The  building  ftately,  and  for  ftrength  befide, 
It  is  the  fafeft  and  the  furefl  hold  you  haue. 

P.  Ed.     Vncle  of  Glqfter,  if  you  thinke  it  fo, 
Tis  not  for  me  to  contradict  your  will, 
We  mull  allow  it,  and  are  well  content. 

Glos.     On  then,  a  Gods  name. 

P.  Ed.     Yet,  before  we  goe, 
One  queftion  more  with  you,  mafter  Lieutenant : 
We  like  you  well  ;  and  but  we  do  perceiue 
More  comfort  in  your  looks  than  in  thefe  walls, 
For  all  our  vncle  Glofters  friendly  fpeech, 
Our  hearts  would  be  as  heauy  ftill  as  lead. 
I  pray  you  tell  me,  at  which  dore  or  gate 
Was  it  my  vncle  Clarence  did  go  in, 
When  he  was  fent  a  prifoner  to  this  place  ? 

Bra.     At  this,  my  liege  !     Why  fighs  your  maiefly? 

P.  Ed.     He   went  in   here   that  nere  came  back 

again, 

But  as  God  hath  decreed,  fo  let  it  be, 
Come,  brother,  mail  we  go  ? 

P.  R.     Yes,  brother ;  any  where  with  you.  Exeunt. 

Tiril  pulls  Catesby  by  the  fleeue. 

Tir.     Sir,  were  it  bed  I  did  attend  the  Duke, 
Or  flay  his  leifure  till  his  backe  returne  ? 

L  2 


148  The  fecond  part  of 

Cat.     I  pray  you,  matter  Tirill,  flay  without : 
It  is  not  good  you  fhould  be  feen  by  day 
Within  the  Tower,  efpecially  at  this  time  ; 
He  tel  his  honour  of  your  being  here, 
And  you  mail  know  his  pleafure  prefently. 

Tir,     Euen  fo,  fir.     Men  would  be  glad  by  any 

means 

To  raife  themfelues,  that  haue  been  ouerthrowne 
By  fortunes  fcorn ;  and  I  am  one  of  them. 

Enter  Duke  of  Glocefter. 

Here  comes  the  Duke. 

Glof.     Catesby  is  this  the  man  1 

Cat.     It  is,  ift  like  your  excellency. 

Glof.     Come  neare. 
Thy  name,  I  heare,  is  Tiril,  is  it  not  ? 

Tir.     James  Tiril  is  my  name,  my  gracious  lord. 

Glof.     Welcome,  it  mould  appeare  that  thou  haft 

been 
In  better  flate  then  now  it  feemes  thou  art. 

Tyr.     I  haue  been,  by  my  fay,  my  lord  !  though 

now  depreft 
And  clouded  ouer  with  aduerfity. 

Glof.     Be  rulde  by  me,  and  thou  malt  rife  againe, 
And  proue  more  happy  than  thou  euer  waft. 
There  is  but  onely  two  degrees  by  which 
It  mail  be  needful  for  thee  to  afcend, 
And  that  is,  faith  and  taciturnitie. 

Tir.     If  euer  I  proue  falfe  vnto  your  grace, 
Conuert  your  fauour  to  afflictions. 

Glof.     But  canfl  thou  too  be  fecret  ? 

Tyr.     Trie  me,  my  lord. 
This  tongue  was  neuer  knowne  to  be  a  blab. 

Glof.     Thy  countenance  hath,  like  a  filuer  key, 
Opend  the  clofet  of  my  heart.     Read  there  ; 
If  fcholer-like  thou  canfl  expound  thofe  lines, 
Thou  art  the  man  ordaind  to  feme  my  turn. 

Tyr.     So  far  as  my  capacity  will  reach, 
Tlie  fenfe  my  lord  is  this.     This  night  you  fay, 


King  Edward  the  Fourth.         149 

The  two  young  Princes  both  muft  fuffer  death. 

Glof.  Thou  haft  my  meaning.  Wilt  thou  do  it  ? 
fpeak. 

Tyr.     It  mall  be  done. 

Glof.     Inough  !  come,  follow  me, 
For  thy  direction,  and  for  gold  to  fee, 
Such  as  muft  aide  thee  in  their  tragedy. 

• 

Enter  miftris  Blage  and  Jockie,  loden. 

Bla.  Welcome,  good  Jockie  I  what  good  news 
bring  you  1 

Jockie.  Marry  maiftrefs  my  gude  maiftrefs  greets 
ye,  maiftrefs,  and  prays  ye,  maiftrefs,  till  dight  vp  her 
chamber,  for  fhele  lig  wi  ye  to-night,  maiftrefs.  And 
heres  her  cat-skin  till  fhe  come. 


Enter  Jane. 

Jane.     Why  how  now  loiterer  ?  make  ye  no  more 

haft? 

When  will  my  trunkes  and  all  my  ftuffe  be  brought, 
If  you  thus  loiter  ?     Go,  make  haft  withal. 

Jockie.  •  Marry,  fall  I,  gin  yele   be  bud   peetient 

a  while.  Exit. 

Jane.      Good    gentle    miftrefs    Blage,    the    only 

friend, 

That  fortune  leaues  me  to  rely  vpon, 
My  counfels  clofet  and  my  tower  of  ftrength, 
To  whom  for  fafety  I  retire  myfelf, 
To  be  fecure  in  thefe  tempeftuous  times, 
O  fmile  on  me,  and  giue  me  gentle  lookes. 
If  I  be  welcome,  then  with  cheereful  heart 
And  willing  hand,  fhow  me  true  figns  thereof. 

Bla.     Doubt  ye  of  welcome  ladie,  to  your  friend  ? 
Nay  to  your  feruant,  to  your  beadfwoman, 
To  fpeake  but  truth,  your  bountie  bondwoman  1 
Vfe  me,  command  me,  call  my  houfe  your  owne, 
And  all  I  haue,  fweet  lady,  at  your  will 


1 50  The  Jecond part  of 

Jane.     Away  with  titles,  lay  by  courtly  tearms. 
The  cafe  is  alterd  now  the  King  is  dead  ; 
And  with  his  life  my  fauouring  friends  are  fled. 
No  madam,  now,  but,  as  I  was  before, 
Your  faithfull  kind  companion,  poor  Jane  Shore  \ 

Bla.     I  loude  you  then,  and  fmce,  and  euer  mail, 
You  are  the  woman,  though  your  fortunes  fall : 
You,  when  my  husbands  lewde  tranfgreflion 
Of  all  our  welth  had  loft  pofleflion, 
By  forfaiture  into  his  highnes  hands, 
Got  reftitution  of  our  goods  and  lands. 
He  fled,  and  died  in  france  :  to  heale  that  harme, 
You  helpt  me  to  three  manors  in  fee-farme, 
The  worft  of  which  clears  three  fcore  pound  a  yeare. 
Haue  I  not  reafon,  then,  to  hold  ye  deare  ? 
Yes,  hap  what  will,  vntil  my  life  do  end, 
You  are  and  (hall  be  my  beft  beloued  friend. 

Jane.     How,  if  misfortune  my  folly  do  fucceed  ? 

Bla.     Truft  me,  true  friends  bide  touch  in  time  of 
neede. 

Jane.     If  want  confume  the  wealth  I  had  before. 

Bla.     My  wealth  is  yours,  and  you  mail  fpend  my 
ftore. 

Jane.     But  the  Protector  profecutes  his  hate. 

Bla.     With  me  Hue  fecret  from  the  worlds  debate. 

Jane.     You  will  be  weary  of  fo  bad  a  gueft. 

Bla.     Then  let  me  neuer  on  the  earth  be  bleft 

Jane.     Ah,    miftrifs    JBlage   you   tender  me   fuch 

loue, 

As  all  my  forrowes  from  my  foul  remoue ; 
And  though  my  portion  be  not  very"  large, 
Yet  come  I  not  to  you  to  be  a  charge. 
Coin,  plate,  and  iewels,  prizde  at  loweft  rate, 
I  bring  with  me,  to  maintaine  my  eftate, 
Worth  twenty  thoufand  pound,  and  my  array. 
If  you  furuiue  to  fee  my  dying  day, 
From  you  no  penny  will  I  giue  away. 

Bla.      And  I  thanke  you  that  fo  my  wealth  ir*- 
creaft, 


King  Edward  the  Fourth,          151 

Am  worth,  I  trow,  ten  thoufand  pounds  at  leaft. 
I  thinke,  like  two  warme  widdowes  we  may  Hue, 
Vntill  good  fortune  two  good  husbands  giue  ; 
For  furely,  miftrifs  Shore,  your  husbands  dead  : 
When  heard  ye  of  him  1 

Jane.     Neuer  fmce  he  fled. 
O,  miflrifs  Blage,  now  put  you  in  my  head 
That   kills   my  heart.      Why  mould   I   breathe   this 

aire, 

Whofe  loft  good  name  no  treafure  can  lepaire? 
O,  were  he  here  with  me  to  lead  his  life, 
Although  he  neuer  vfed  me  as  a  wife, 
But  as  a  drudge  to  fpurne  me  with  his  feete, 
Yet  mould  I  think  with  him  that  life  were  fweete. 

Bla.     How  can  ye  once  conceit  fo  bafe  a  thing, 
That  haue  beene  kift  and  cokerd  by  a  King  1 
Weepe  not ;  you  hurt  yourfelf,  by  Gods  bleft  mother, 
Your  husbands  dead,  woman,  thinke  vpon  another, 
Let   vs   in   to   fupper  :    drinke   wine  :    cheere    your 

heart ; 
And  whilft  I  Hue,  be  fure  He  take  your  part.    Exeunt. 

Enter  Brackenbury,  Shore,  Dighton,  Forreft,  Tirill. 

Tir.     Sir,    I   affure  you,    tis    my  lord   Protectors 
warrant. 

Bra.      My  friend,   I   haue    conferrd    it  with   his 

letters, 

And  tis  his  hand,  indeed,  He  not  deny. 
But  blame  me  not,  although  I  be  precife 
In  matters  that  fo  nearly  do  concern  me. 

Digh.     My  lord  Protector,  fir,  I  make  no  doubt, 
Dare  iuftify  his  warrant,  though  perhaps 
He  doth  not  now  acquaint  you  why  he  doth  it. 

Bra.     I  think,  fir,  theres  no  fubiedl  now  in  Eng 
land 

Will  vrge  his  grace  to  mow  what  he  dare  do ; 
Nor  will  I  aske  him  why  he  does  it ; 
I  would  I  might,  to  rid  me  of  my  doubt.  (A fide.) 


152  The  fecond part  of 

For.     Why  fir  I  think  he  needs  no  prefident, 
For  what  he  does  :   I  thinke  his  power  is  abfolute 
enough. 

Bra.     I  haue  no  power  fir  to  examine  it, 
Nor  will  I  do  :  obey  your  warrant, 
Which  I  will  keepe  for  my  fecurity. 

Tyr.     You  mall  do  well  in  that  fir. 

Bra.     Heres  the  keys, 

Shore.     And  yet  I  could  wifh  rny  lord  Protedlor 

afide. 

Had  fent  his  warrant  hither  by  fome  other. 
I  doe  not  like  their  looks,  I  tell  you  true. 

Bra.     Nor  I,  Flud,  I  affure  thee. 

For.     What  does  that  flaue  mutter  to  his  maifler  ? 

Digh.     I    heare    him   fay   he   does  not   like   our 
lookes. 

Tyr.     Why  not  our  lookes,  fir. 

For.     Sirra,  we  heare  you. 

Shore.     I   am  glad  you   doe,  fir:   all  is  one  for 

that. 

But,  if  you  did  not,  hearken  better  now 
I  neuer  faw  three  faces  in  whofe  looks 
Did  euer  fit  more  terror,  or  more  death. 
God  bleffe  the  princes,  if  it  be  his  will, 
I  do  not  like  thefe  villaines. 

Digh.     Zounds,  ftab  the  villain.      Sirra,   do   you 
braue  us  3 

Shore.     I,  thats  your  comming ;  for  you  come  to 
ftab. 

For.     Stab  him. 

Shore.     Nay,  then,  He  flab  with  thee. 

Tir.     Zblood,  cut  his  throat. 

Bra.     Hold,  gentlemen,  I  pray  you. 

Shore.     Sir,  I  am  hurt,  ftabd  in  the  arm. 

Bra.     This  is  not  to  be  juftified,  my  friends, 
To  draw  your  weapons  here  within  the  Tower> 
And  by  the  law  it  is  no  lefs  than  death. 
I  cannot  think  the  Duke  will  like  of  this. 
I  pray  ye  be  content :  too  much  is  done. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         153 

2}r.  He  might  haue  held  his  peace,  then,  and  been 

quiet. 
Farewell,  farewell. 

Shore.     Hell  and  damnation  follow  murtherers. 

Bra.     Go,  Flud, 

Get  thee  fome  furgeon  to  looke  to  thy  wound. 
Haft  no  acquaintance  with  fome  skilfull  furgeon  ? 
Keep  thy  wound  clofe,  and  let  it  not  take  aire. 
And  for  my  own  part,  I  will  not  flay  here. 
Whither  wilt  thou  go,  that  I  may  fend  to  thee  ? 

Shore.  To  one  Miftrifs  Blages,  an  inn,  in  Gracious 

Street. 
There  you  mail  find  me,  or  (hall  heare  of  me. 

Bra.     Sweet  princely  babes,  farewell  I  fear    you 

fore : 
I  doubt  thefe  eyes  mail  neuer  fee  you  more. 

Enter  the  two  young  Princes^  Edward  and  Richard, 
in  their  gowns  and  caps,  vnbuttond>  and  vntruft. 

Ric.     How  does  your  lordfliip  ? 
Ed.     Well,  good  brother  Richard. 
How  does  yourfelf?  you  told  me  your  head  aked. 
Ric.     Indeed  it  does,   my  Lord  feele  with    your 

hands 
How  hot  it  is.     He  laies  his  hand  on  his  brothers  head. 

Ed.     Indeed  you  haue  caught  cold, 
With  fitting  yefternight  to  heare  me  read. 
I    pray  thee    go    to   bed,   fweet  Dick,  poore   little 

heart. 
Ric.    Youle  giue  me  leaue  to  wait  vpon  your  lord- 

mip. 

Ed.     I  had  more  need,  brother,  to  wait  on  you. 
For  you  are  fick  ;  and  fo  am  not  I, 

Ric.     Oh,  lord,  methinks  this  going  to  our  bed, 
How  like  it  is  to  going  to  our  graue. 
Ed.     I  pray  thee,  do  not  fpeake  of  graues  fweet 
heart. 


154  The  fecond part  of 

Indeed  thou  frighted  me. 

Ric.    Why,  my  lord  brother,  did  not  our  tutor  teac 

vs, 

That  when  at  night  we  went  vnto  our  bed, 
We  ftill  mould  think  we  went  vnto  our  graue. 

Ed.     Yes,  thats  true, 

That  we  mould  do  as  eu'ry  Chriftian  ought, 
To  be  prepard  to  die  at  euery  hour, 
But  I  am  heauy. 

Ric.     Indeed,  and  fo  am  I. 
Ed.     Then  let  vs  fay  our  prayers  and  go  to  bed. 
They  kneel,  andfolemn  muficke  the  while  within. 

The  muficke  ceafeth,  and  they  rife. 
Ric.     What,  bleeds  your  grace  1 
Ed.     I  two  drops  and  no  more. 
Ric.     God  bleffe  vs  both ;  and  I  defire  no  more. 
Ed.     Brother,  fee  here   what  Dauid  fays,  and  fo 

fay  I  : 
Lord  !  in  thee  will  I  truft,  although  I  die. 

As  the  young  Princes  go  out,  enter  Tirill. 

Tir.     Go,  lay  ye  down,  but  neuer  more  to  rife, 
I  haue  put  my  hand  into  the  fouleft  murder 
That  euer  was  committed  fince  the  world. 
The  very  fenfeleffe  ftones  here  in  the  walles 
Breake  out  in  teares  but  to  behold  the  fact. 
Methinkes  the  bodies  lying  dead  in  graues, 
Should  rife  and  cry  againft  vs.  O  hark,  (a  noife  within) 

harke, 

The  mandrakes  fhrieks  are  mufic  to  their  cries, 
The  very  night  is  frighted,  and  the  ftarres 
Do  drop  like  torches,  to  behold  this  deed  : 
The  very  centre  of  the  earth  doth  make, 
Methinks    the    Towre    mould   rent   down   from  the 

toppe, 
To  let  the  heauen  look  on  this  monftrous  deede. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         155 

Enter  at  the  one  doore,  Dighton,  with  Edward  vnder  his 
arm,  at  the  other  doore,  Forreft  with  Richard. 

Digh.     Stand  further,  damned  rogue,  and  come  not 
near  me. 

For.     Nay,  Hand  thou  further  villain,  Hand  afide. 

Digh.     Are  we  not  both  damnd  for  this  curfed  deed  % 

For.    Thou  art  the  witnefs  that  thou  bearft  the  King. 

Digh.     And  what  bearft  thou  ? 

For.     It  is  too  true.     Oh,  I  am  damnd  indeed  ! 

He  lookes  downe  on  the  boy  vnder  his  arme. 

Tyr.     I  am  as  deepe  as  you,  although  my  hand 
Did  not  the  deede. 

Digh.     O  villaine,  art  thou  there  1 

For.     A  plague  light  on  thee  ! 

Tyr.     Curfe  not, 
A  thoufand  plagues  will  light  vpon  vs  all. 

They  lay  them  down. 

The  prieft  here  in  the  Tower  will  bury  them. 
Let  vs  away. 

Enter  M.  Plage  dv  her  two  men,  bringing  in  Shoar 
alias  Flond,  in  a  chaire,  his  arme  bleeding  a- 
pace. 

Bla.     So,  fet  him  here  awhile,  where  is  more  aire. 
How  cheere  you,  fir.     Alack,  he  doth  begin 
To  change  his  colour.     Where  is  miftrifs  Shore  1 
Gone  to  her  clofet  for  a  precious  balm, 
The  fame  (me  fayd)  King  Edward  vs'd  himfelf. 
Alack,  I  fear  hele  die  before  me  come. 
Run  quickly  for  fome  rofa-folis.     Faint  not,  fir ; 
Be  of  good  comfort.     Come,  good  miftrifs  Shore, 
What  haue  you  there  1 

Jane.     Stand  by,  and  giue  me  leaue. 

Bla.     Unhappy  me,  to  lodge  him  in  my  houfe  ! 

Jane*     I  warrant  you,  woman,  be  not  fo  afraid. 
If  not  this  bloud-ftone  hangd  about  his  necke, 
This  balme  will  ftanch  it,  by  the  helpe  of  God. 
Lift  vp  his  arme,  whilft  I  do  bathe  his  wound. 


1 5  6  The  fecond  part  of 

The  fign  belike  was  here  when  he  was  hurt, 
Or  elfe  fome  principal  and  chief  veine  is  pierft. 

Bl.     How  euer  fure  the  furgeon  was  a  knaue, 
That  lookt  no  better  to  him  at  the  firft. 

Jane.     Blame  him  not,  Miftrifs  Blage ;  the  beft  of 

them, 
In  fuch  a  cafe  as  this,  may  be  to  feeke. 

Bla.     Now,   God    be    bleffed !    fee    the    crimfon 

bloud, 

That  was  precipitate  and  falling  down 
Into  his  arm,  retires  into  his  face, 
How  fare  you,  fir  ?  how  do  you  feele  yourfelf? 

Shore.     Oh,  wherefore  haue  you  wakt  me  from  my 

fleepe  1 

And  broke  the  quiet  flumber  I  was  in  1 
Methought  I  fate  in  fuch  a  pleafant  place, 
So  full  of  all  delight  as  neuer  any  eie 
Beheld,  nor  heart  of  man  could  comprehend, 
If  you  had  let  me  go,  I  felt  no  paine  : 
But  being  now  reuokt,  my  grief  renews. 

Jane.     Giue  him  fome  rofa-folis,  miflrefs  Blage, 
And  that  will  likewife  animate  the  fprites, 
And  fend  alacrity  vnto  the  heart, 
That  hath  been  ftrugling  with  the  pangs  of  death. 

Bla.     Here,  fir,  drinke  this ;  you  need  not  feare  it, 

fir; 

It  is  no  hurt :  fee,  I  will  be  your  tafter  : 
Then  drinke  I  pray  you. 

Jane.     Now,    fellowes,   raife    his    body  from  the 

chaire, 

And  gently  let  him  walke  a  turne  or  two. 
Bla.     Good  footh,  miftrifs  Shore,  I  did  not  think 

till  now 
You  had  been  fuch  a  cunning  skilld  phyfition. 

Shore.     Oh,  miftreffe  Blage,  though  I  muft  needs 

confeffe 

It  would  haue  been  more  welcome  to  my  foule, 
If  I  had  died,  and  been  remoud  at  lafl, 
From  the  confufed  troubles  of  this  world, 


King  Edward  the  Fourth.          157 

Whereof  I  haue  fuftained  no  meane  waight, 
Than  lingring  here,  be  made  a  packhorfe  ftill 
Of  torments,  in  comparifon  of  which 
Death  is  but  as  the  pricking  of  a  thorne, 
Yet  I  do  thank  you  for  your  taken  paines, 
And  would  to  God  I  could  requite  your  loue  ! 

Bla.      Sir,    I    did    you    little    good.     What    was 

done, 

Afcribe  the  benefit  and  praife  thereof 
Vnto  the  gentlewoman,  kind  miflrifs  Shore, 
Who,  next  to  God,  prefervd  your  feeble  life. 

Shore.     How  ?  miftrefs  Shore,  good  friends,  let  go 

your  hold ! 

My  ftrength  is  now  fufficient  of  itfelf. 
Oh  is  it  (he  that  ftill  prolongs  my  woe  ? 
Was  it  ordaind  not  onely  at  the  firft 
She  mould  be  my  deftruclion,  but  now  twife, 
When  gratious  deftinies  had  brought  about 
To  ende  this  weary  pilgrimage  of  mine, 
Mufl  me,  and  none  but  me,  preuent  that  good, 
And  ftop  my  entrance  to  eternall  bliffe  ? 
Oh,  lafting  plague,  oh,  endleffe  corrafme  ! 
It  now  repents  me  double  that  I  fcapte 
Since's  lifes  made  death,  and  lifes  author  hate  ! 

Jane.      Sir,    take    my    counfell,    and    fit    downe 

againe. 

It  is  not  good  to  be  fo  bold  of  foot 
Vpon  the  fudden,  till  you  haue  more  ftrength. 

Shore.     Miftrefs,  I  thanke   you,   and   I   care   not 

much 

If  I  be  ruld  by  you.  fits  downe. 

Oh,  God,  that  fhe  mould  pity  me  vnknown, 
That,  knowing  me,  by  her  was  ouerthrowne  ; 
Or  ignorantly  me  mould  regard  this  fmart, 
That  heretofore  fpard  not  to  ftab  my  heart. 

Enter  Brackenbury. 

Bra.     By  your  leaue,  miftrifs  Blage,  I  am  fome- 
what  bold, 


158  The  fecond part  of 

Is  there  not  a  gentleman  within  your  houfe, 
Calld  M.  Flood,  came  hither  hurt  lafl  night  ? 

Bla.     Is  his   name   Flood "I      I    knew    it    not  till 

now  ; 

But  here  he  is,  and  well  recouered. 
Thanks  to  this  gentlewoman,  miftrefs  Shore. 

Bra.     Pardon  me,  miftrefs  Shore,  I  faw  you  not : 
And  trull  me,  I  am  forry  at  the  heart 
So  good  a  creature  as  yourfelfe  hath  beene 
Should  be  fo  vilely  dealt  with  as  you  are. 
I  promife  you,  the  world  laments  your  cafe. 

Jane.     How  meane  you,  fir  ?     I  vnderftand  you 

not. 

Lament  my  cafe  for  what  ?  for  Edwards  death  1 
I  know  that  I  haue  loft  a  gracious  friend  ; 
But  that  is  not  to  be  remedied  now. 

Bra.     No,  miftrifs  Shore,  it  is  for  Richards  hate, 
That  too  much  enuies  your  prolperity. 

Jane.     I    know   he   loues   me   not,  and   for  that 

caufe, 
I  haue  withdrawn  me  wholly  from  the  Court. 

Bra.      You    haue    not    feene    the    proclamation, 
then  ? 

Jane,    The  proclamation  ?     No.     What  proclama 
tion  1 

Bra.      Oh,    miftrifs    Shore,   The   King,    in   euery 

ftreet 

Of  London  and  in  euery  borough  town 
Throughout  this  land,  hath  publikely  proclaimed, 
On  paine  of  death,  that  none  mail  harbour  you, 
Or  giue  you  foode  or  clothes  to  keepe  you  warme  ; 
But  hauing  firft  done  fhameful  penance  here, 
You  mall  be  then  thruft  forth  the  city-gates 
Into  the  naked  cold,  forfaken  field. 
I  fable  not,  I  would  to  God  I  did, 
See,  heres  the  manner  of  it  put  in  print, 
Tis  to  be  told  in  euery  Stationers  mop, 
Befides  a  number  of  them  clapt  on  pofts, 
Where  people  crowding,  as  they  read  your  fall, 


King  Edward  the  Fourth.         1 59 

Some  murmur,  and  fome  figh  ;  but  moft  of  them 
Haue  their  relenting  eyes  euen  big  with  teares. 

Jam.     Gods  will  be  done.     I  know  my  finne  is 

great, 

And  he  that  is  omnipotent  and  iuft 
Cannot  but  muft  reward  me  heauily. 

Bra.     It    grieues    me,  miftrifs  Shore,  it   was    my 

chance, 
To  be  the  firft  reporter  of  this  newes. 

Jane.     Let  it  not  grieue,  I  muft  haue  heard  of  it, 
And  now  as  good  as  at  another  time. 

Bra.      I  pray    ye,  miftrifs    Blage,    haue   care    of 

Flood 'f 
And  what  his  charge  is  I  will  fee  you  paid.  Exit. 

Jane.     Farewell    to    all    that    ftill    (hall    be   my 

fong, 

Let  men  impofe  upon  me  nere  fuch  wrong ; 
And  this  extremity  mail  feeme  the  leffe, 
In  that  I  haue  a  friend  to  lean  vnto. 
Sweet  miftrifs  Blage,  there  were  vpon  the  earth 
No  comfort  left  for  miferable  Jane, 
But  that  I  do  prefume  vpon  your  loue. 
I  know,  though  tyrant  Richard  had  fet  down 
A  greater  penalty  than  is  proclaimd, 
Which  cannot  well  be  thought,  yet  in  your  houfe 
I  mould  haue  fuccour  and  reliefe  befide. 

Bla.      What !     and    fo    I    mould    be     a    traitor, 

mould  I  \ 

Is  that  the  care  you  haue  of  me  and  mine  ? 
I  thanke  you,  truly,  no  theres  no  fuch  matter. 
I  loue  you  well,  but  loue  myfelfe  better. 
As  long  as  you  were  held  a  true  fubiedt, 
I  made  account  of  you  accordingly; 
But,  being  otherwife,  I  doe  reiecl  you, 
And  will  not  cherifh  my  kings  enemy. 
You  know  the  danger  of  the  proclamation  : 
I  would  to  God  you  would  depart  my  houfe. 

Jane.     When  was  it  euer    feen  Jane  Shore  was 
falfe 


1 60  The  fecond part  of 

Either  vnto  her  countrey  or  her  king  ? 

And  therefore  tis  not  well,  good  miftrifs  Blage, 

That  you  vpbraid  me  with  a  traitors  name. 

Bla.     I,  but  you  haue  been  a  wicked  liuer, 
And  now  you  fee  what  tis  to  be  vnchafle  : 
You  mould  haue  kept  you  with  your    honefl   hus 
band  : 

'Twas  neuer  other  like  but  that  fuch  like  filthineffe 
Would  haue  a  foule  and  deteftable  end. 

Jane.     Time  was  that  you  did  tell  me  otherwife, 
And  ftudied  how  to  fet  a  gloffe  on  that, 
Which  now  you  fay  is  vgly  and  deformde. 

Bla.     I  told  you  then  as  then  the  time  did  ferue, 
And  more,  indeed,  to  try  your  difpofition, 
Than  any  way  to  encourage  you  to  finne. 
But  when  I  faw  you  were  ambitious, 
And  faintly  flood  on  terms  of  modefly, 
I  left  you  to  your  own  arbiterment. 
Can  you  deny  it  was  not  fo  ?  how  fay  you  ? 

Jane.     We  will  not,  miftrifs  Blage,  difpute  of  that ; 
But  now,  in  charity  and  womanhood, 
Let  me  find  fauour,  if  it  be  but  this, 
That  in  fome  barne  or  ftable  I  may  fhrowd, 
Till  otherwife  I  be  prouided  for. 

Bla.     I  pray  ye  do  not  vrge  me  miftrifs  Shore, 
I  will  not  haue  my  houfe  indanger'd  fo. 

Jane.     Oh  you  did  promife  I  mould  neuer  want, 
And  that  your  houfe  was  mine,  and  fwore  the  fame. 
To  keepe  your  oth  be  then  compaffionate. 

Bla.      So  you  did   fwear  you   would   be   true   to 

Shore  \ 

But  you  were  not  fo  good  as  your  word. 
My  oathes  dimerit  which  by  the  Kings  command. 

Jane.     Yet  let   me   haue   thofe  jewels   and   that 

money 
Which  is  within  my  trunkes. 

Bla.     I  know  M  none. 
If  there  be  any,     le  be  fo  bolde, 
As  keepe  it  for  y  \ir  diet  and  your  mans. 

I 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 6 1 

It  is  no  little  charge  I  haue  beene  at 
To  feed  your  dainty  tooth,  fmce  you  came  hither 
Befide,  houfe-roome,  I'm  fure,  is  fomewhat  worth. 
Shore.     Ah,    Jane  \     I   cannot   choofe    but    pity 

thee. 
Heres  the  firft  ftep  to  thy  deep  mifery. 

Jane.     Oh,  that  my  graue  had  then  been  made  my 

houfe, 

When  either  firft  I  went  vnto  the  Court, 
Or  from  the  Court  returnd  vnto  this  place  ! 


Enter  two  Apparators. 

Serttant.     How  now,  what  are  you  ?    it  had  been 

manners, 
You  mould  haue  knockt  before  you  had  come  in. 

Firft.  Ap.     We  are  the  Bimops  Parators,  my  friend ; 
And  miflrifs4iS!&ra  our  errand  is  to  you. 
This  day  it  is  commanded  by  the  King, 
You  muft  be  flript  out  of  your  rich  attire, 
And  in  a  white  meet  go  from  Temple-barre 
Vntil  you  come  to  Algate,  bare  footed, 
Your  haire  about  your  eares,  and  in  your  hand 
A  burning  taper.     Therefore,  go  with  vs. 

Jane.  Euen  when  and  whither  you  will  j  and  would 

to  God, 

The  King  as  foone  could  rid  my  foule  of  fin, 
As  he  may  ftrip  my  body  of  thefe  rags  ! 

2.  Ap.     That  would  be  foon  enough :   but   come 

away. 

And  miftrifs  JBlage,  youle  hardly  anfwer  it, 
When  it  is  known  we  found  her  in  your  houfe. 
i.  Ap.     It  feemes  you  do  not  feare  to  harbour  her. 
Mrs.  J3la.     I  harbour  her  ?  out  on  her,  ftrumpet 

queane 

She  preft  upon  me,  where  I  would  or  no. 
He  fee  her  hangd  ere  I  will  harbour  her. 
So  now,  her  iewels  and  her  gold  is  mine, 

1  M 


1 6  2  The  fecond part  of 

And  I  am  made  at  lead  foure  thoufand  pound, 
Wealthier  by  this  match  then  I  was  before  : 
And  what  can  be  objected  for  the  fame 
That  once  I  lou'd  her  :  well,  perhaps  I  did  ; 
And  women  all  are  gouernd  by  the  moon, 
But  now  I  am  of  another  humour ; 
Which  is,  you  know  a  planet  that  will  change. 

Cat.     Now,    M.     Sheriffe   of   London !    do   your 

office. 

Attach  this  rebel  to  his  maiefly, 
And,  hauing  ftript  her  to  her  petticoate, 
Turne  her  out  a  doores,  with  this  condition, 
That  no  man  harbour  her  that  durfl  prefume 
To  harbour  that  lewde  curtizan,  Shores  wife, 
Againfl  the  flrait  commandement  of  the  King. 

Bla.     I  befeech  you,  fir. 

Cat.     Away  with  her,  I  fay. 
The  while  lie  feaze  vpon  her  houfe  and  goods, 
Which  wholly  are  confifcate  to  the  King.  Exit. 

Shore.     Oh,  what  haue  I  beheld,  were  I  as  young, 
As  when  I  came  to  London  to  be  prentice, 
This  pageant  were  fufficient  to  inftruc~l 
And  teach  me  euer  after  to  be  wife. 
Firfl  haue  I  feen  defert  of  wantonneffe 
And  breach  of  wedlocke  j  then  of  flattery  ; 
Next  of  diflembling  loue ;  and  laft  of  all, 
The  ruine  of  bafe  catching  auarice. 
But  poore  Jane  Shore  in  that  I  lou'd  thee  once, 
And  was  thy  husband,  I  muft  pity  thee. 
The  fparks  of  old  affection  long  agoe, 
Rakte  vp  in  afhes  of  difpleafure  kindle ; 
And  in  this  furnace  of  aduerfity 
The  world  mail  fee  a  husbands  loyalty.  Exit. 

Enter  D.  $\\&w,penfively  reading  on  his  booke,  after 
him  follows  the  ghoft  of  Frier  Anfelme,  with  a 
lighted  torch. 

Shaw.     Spuria  vitulamina  non  agent  radices  alias. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          163 

Baftardly  flips  haue  always  flender  growth. 

Ah,  Shaw  this  was  the  curfed  theme 

That,  at  Patils  croffe,  thou  mad  ft  thy  fermon  of, 

To  proue  the  lawful  ifTue  of  thy  King, 

Got  out  of  wedlock,  illegitimate. 

Ah,  Duke  of  Glofter  this  didft  thou  procure. 

Did  Richard  (villain)     No,  it  was  thy  fault, 

Thou  wouldft  be  won  to  fuch  a  damned  deed, 

Which  now  to  think  on  makes  my  foul  to  bleed. 

Ah,  frier  Anfelme  fleepe  among  the  bleft ; 

Thy  propheTie  thus  falfely  did  I  wrefl. 

Enter  Anfelme. 

An.     Thou  didfl  and  be  thou  damnd  therefore, 
Nere  come  thy  foul  where  bleffednefs  abides, 
Didfl  thou  not  know  the  letter  G.  was  Glofter  ? 

Shaw.     Anfelme^  I  did. 

An.     Why,  then,  didfl  thou  affirm 
That  it  was  meant  by  George  fas,  Duke  of  Clarence*{ 
That  honorable  harmleffe  gentleman, 
Whofe  thoughts  all  innocent  as  any  child, 
Yet  came  through  thee  to  fuch  a  luckleffe  death. 

Shaw.     I  was  inforced  by  the  Duke  of  Glofter. 

An.     Enforfl,  -faifl  thou  ?     wouldfl  thou  then    be 

enforft, 

Being  a  man  of  thy  profeffion, 
To  fin  fo  vilely,  and  with  thine  owne  mouth 
To  damne  thy  foule  ?     No  ;  thou  wafl  not  enforct ; 
But  gaine  and  hope  of  high  promotion 
Hired  thee  thereto.    Say,  was  it  fo,  or  no  ? 

Shaw.     It  did,  it  did. 

An.       Why    then    record    in     thy    black    hellim 

thoughts 

How  many  mifchiefes  haue  enfued  hereon? 
Firfl,  wronged  Clarence  drowned  in  the  Tower  ; 
Next  Edwards  children  murder'd  in  the  Tower  ; 
This  day  at  Pomfret  noble  gentlemen 

M  2 


164  The  fecond  part  of 

Three,    the    Queens    kinred,    lofe     their    harmlefie 

heads. 

Thinkfl  thou  that  here  this  flood  of  mifchief  flays 
No,  villain,  many  are  markt  to  the  block, 
And  they  the  neareft,  think  them  further!  off. 
Euen  Buckingham,  creator  of  that  king, 
Shall  he  to  woe  and  wretched  ending  bring. 
All  this  (accurfed  man)  hath  come  by  thee, 
And  thy  falfe  wrefling  of  my  prophecy, 
For  ILnglands  good,  difclofed  to  thy  trufl ; 
And  fo  it  had  beene,  hadft  thou  proued  iufk. 
But  thou  and  euery  one  that  had  a  hand 
In  that  mofl  wofull  murther  of  the  princes, 
To  fatall  ends  you  are  appointed  all. 
Here  in  thy  fludy  fhalt  thou  flerue  thyfelf, 
And  from  this  houre  not  tafle  one  bit  of  food, 
The  refl  mail  after  follow,  on  a  row, 
To  all  their  deaths  ;  vengeance  will  not  be  flow. 

Enter  a  Meffenger  to  Shaw. 

Mef.     Where  is  M.  Defter  Shaw  ? 

Shaw.     Here  friend  ;  what  is  thy  will  with  me  ? 

Mef.     King  Richard  prays    ye   to    come   to  An 

ftrait, 
For  he  would  be  confefl. 

Shaw.     I  cannot  come.      I  pray  thee,  take  tfift 

Frier ; 

For  he  can  do  it  better  farre  than  I. 
Mef.     A  frier,  M.  Doctor.     I  fee  none. 
Shaw.     Doeft    thou    not  1      No  :     thy    untainted 

foul 
Cannot  difcerne  the  horrors  that  I  doe. 

An.     Shaw,   go   with   him;    and   tell   that  tyrant 

Richard^ 

He  hath  but  three  years  limited  for  life ; 
And  then  a  fhamefull  death  takes  hold  on  him. 
That  done,  returne  ;  and  in  thy  fludy  end 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          165 

Thy  loathed  life,  that  didft  us  all  offend. 

Shaw.     With  all  my  heart.     Would  it  were  ended 

now ! 
So  it  were  done,  I  care  not  where  nor  how.       Exeunt. 

Enter  the.  two  Parators,  with  Mi/Iris  Shore  in  a  white 
JJieet  barefooted  with  her  hair  about  her  eares,  and 
in  her  hand  a  waxe  taper. 

1.  Par.     Now,  miftrifs  Shore,  here  our  commiffion 
ends. 

Put  off  your  robe  of  lhame  :  for  this  is  Algate, 
Whither  it  was  appointed  we  fhould  bring  you. 

Jane.     My  robe  of  lhame?     Oh,  that  fo  foule  a 

name 

Should  be  applied  vnto  fo  faire  a  garment  I 
Which  is  no  more  to  be  condemned  of  lhame 
Then  fnow  of  putrefaction  is  deferued, 
To  couer  an  infedlious  heap  of  dung. 
My  robe  of  lhame,  but  not  my  lhame,  put  off; 
For  that  fits  branded  on  my  forehead  Hill, 
And  therefore  in  derifion  was  I  wrapt, 
In  this  white  fheete  ;  and  in  derifion  bore 
This  burning  taper  to  expreffe.my  folly, 
That  hauing  light  of  reafon  to  direcl  me, 
Delighted  yet  in  by-ways  of  darke  error. 

2.  Par.     Well,  miftrifs  Shore  1  hope  you  grudge  not 
us. 

We  mowed  you  all  the  fauour  poor  men  could. 

Jane.     Oh,  God  forbid  !  I  know  the  King's  edict 
Set  you  a  work,  and  not  your  own  defires. 

i.  Par.     I,  truly,  miftrifs  ;  and  for  our  parts 
We  could  be  well  content  twere  otherwile, 
But  that  the  laws  feuere.     And  fo  we  leaue  you. 

Exit. 

Jane.     Farewell  unto  you  both  !  and  London  too  ! 
Farewell  to  thee,  where  firft  I  was  enticde 
That  fcandalizde  thy  dignity  with  lhame  ; 
But  now  thou  haft  returnd  me  treble  blame  ; 


1 66  The  fecond  part  of 

My  tongue,  that  gaue  confent,  injoined  to  beg ; 

Mine  eies  adiudged  to  hourely  laments  \ 

Mine  arms,  for  their  embracings,  catch  the  aire  ; 

And  thefe  quicke,  nimble  feet,  that  were  fo  ready 

To  flep  into  a  Kings  forbidden  bed, 

London  !  thy  flints  haue  punifht  for  their  pride, 

And  thou  haft  drunke  their  blood  for  thy  reuenge. 

What  now  avails  to  think  what  I  haue  beene  1 

Then  welcome  nakednefs  and  pouerty  ! 

Welcome,  contempt,  welcome,  you  barren  fields  ! 

Welcome  the  lacke  of  meat  and  lacke  of  friends  ! 

And  wretched  Jane,  according  to  thy  ftate, 

Sit  here,  fit  here,  and  lower  if  might  be  ? 

All  things  that  breath,  in  their  extremity, 

Haue  fome  recourfe  of  fuccour.     Thou  haft  none. 

The  child  offended  flies  vnto  the  mother. 

The  fouldier  ftrucke  retires  vnto  his  Captain. 

The  fifh,  diftreffed,  flides  into  the  riuer, 

Birds  of  the  aire  do  fly  vnto  their  dams, 

And  vnderneath  their  wings  are  quickly  fhrouded, 

Nay,  beat  the  fpaniell  and  his  matter  moans  him. 

But  I  haue  neither  where  to  fhroud  myfelf, 

Nor  any  one  to  make  my  moan  vnto. 

Come,  patience,  then  ;  and  though  my  body  pine, 

Make  then  a  banquet  to  refrelh  my  foule. 

Let  hearts  deepe  throbbing  fighs  be  all  my  bread  ; 

My  drink  fait  teares  ;  my  guetts  repentant  thoughts 

That  whofo  knew  me,  and  doth  fee  me  now, 

May  fhun  by  me  the  breach  of  wedlocks  vow. 

Enter  Brackenbury,  with  a  prayer-book,  and  fome 
relief  in  a  doathfor  mi/Iris  Shoare. 

Bra.     Oh,  God  how  full  of  dangers  growes  thefe 

times, 

And  no  affurance,  feene  in  any  ftate, 
No  man  can  fay  that  he  is  matter  now 
Of  any  thing  is  his,  fuch  is  the  tide 
Of  fhort  ditturbance  running  through  the  land  ! 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          167 

I  haue  giuen  ouer  my  office  in  the  Tower, 

Becaufe  I  cannot  brooke  their  vile  complots, 

Nor  fmother  fuch  outragious  villainies. 

But  miflrefs  Shore  to  be  fo  bafely  wrongd 

And  vilely  vfd,  that  hath  fo  well  deferued. 

It  doth  afflict  me  in  the  very  foul ! 

She  faud  my  kinfman,  Harry  Stranguidge,  life ; 

Therefore,  in  duty  am  I  bound  to  her 

To  do  what  good  I  may,  though  law  forbid. 

See  where  me  fits  !     God  comfort  thee,  good  foule  ! 

Firft,  take  that  to  relieue  thy  body  with ; 

And  next  receiue  this  book,  wherein  is  food, 

Manna  of  heauen  to  refrefh  thy  foul. 

Thefe  holy  meditations,  miftrifs  Shore 

Will  yield  much  comfort  in  this  mifery, 

Whereon  contemplate  ftill,  and  neuer  linne, 

That  God  may  be  vnmindfull  of  thy  finne. 

Jane.     Matter  Lieutenant !  in  my  heart  I  thank  ye 
For  this  kind  comfort  to  a  wretched  foul. 
Welcome,  fweet  prayer-book,  food  of  my  life, 
The  foueraign  balm  for  my  fick  confcience. 
Thou  malt  be  my  fouls  pleafure  and  delight, 
To  wipe  my  fins  out  of  Jehovaes  fight. 

Bra.     Do  fo  good   Mittrifs  Shore.      Now  I  mutt 

leaue  ye, 

Becaufe  fome  other  bufnefs  calls  me  hence  ; 
And  God,  I  pray,  regard  your  penitence  !  Exit. 

Jane.     Farewell,   fir  Robert  I  and  for  this  good  to 

me, 
The  God  of  heauen  be  mindful  flill  of  thee  ! 

Asjhefits  weeping  and  parying,  Enters  at  one.  doore 
young  M.  Aire,  and  M.  Rufford  at  another. 

Aire.      This   way   me   went,   and   cannot  be    far 

off; 

For  but  euen  now  I  met  the  officers, 
That  were  attendant  on  her  in  her  penance. 


1 68  The  fecond part  of 

Yonder  me  fits  !  now  then  Aire  fhow  thyfelf 
Thankeful  to  her,  that  fometime  faued  thy  life, 
When  law  had  made  thee  fubiedl  to  bafe  death. 
Giue  her  thy  purfe  ;  for  here  comes  fomebody. 
Stand  by  awhile,  for  fear  thou  be  difcouerd. 

Ruf.     What,  miftrefs  Shore  1    King    Edward's  con 
cubine 

Set  on  a  molehill?  oh,  difparagement 
A  throne  were  fitter  for  your  ladyfhip. 
Fie,  will  you  flubber  thefe  fair  cheekes  with  teares? 
Or  fit  fo  folitary  1  wheres  all  your  feruants  ? 
Where  is  your  gowne  of  filke,  your  periwigs, 
Your  fine  rebatoes,  and  your  coftly  iewels  1 
What,  not  fo  much  as  a  fhoe  vpon  your  foote  ? 
Nay,  then,  I  fee  the  world  goes  hard  with  whores. 

Aire.     The  villain  flaue  gibes  at  her  mifery. 

Ruf.     Now,  whether  is  it  better  to  be  in  Court,  - 
And  there  to  beg  a  licence  of  the  King, 
For  tranfportation  of  commodities, 
Than  here  to  fit  forfaken  as  thou  dofll 
I  think  vpon  condition  Edward  liued, 
And  thou  were  ftill  in  fauour  as  before, 
Thou  wouldft  not  fay  that  Rufford  had  deferued 
To  haue  his  eares  rent  for,  a  worfer  fuite 
Then  licence  to  fhip  ouer  corn  and  lead. 
What,  not  a  word,  faith  wench  He  tell  thee  what ; 
If  thou  doft  think  thy  old  trade  out  of  date, 
Go  learne  to  play  the  bawde  another  while. 

Aire.     Inhuman    wretch    why    dofl    thou    fcorne 

her  fo  1    , 
And  vex  her  grieued  foul  with  bitter  taunts  ? 

Ruf.     Becaufe  I  will.     She  is  a  curtizan, 
And  one  abhorred  of  the  world  for  luft. 

Aire.     If    all    thy  faults    were    in    thy  forehead 

writ, 

Perhaps  thou  wouldft  thyfelf  appeare  no  leffe, 
But  much  more  horrible  then  Ihe  doth  now. 

Ruf.     You  are  no  iudge  of  mine  fir. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         169 

Aire.     Why  nor  thou  of  her. 

Ruf.     The    world    hath    iudged    and   found    her 

guilty, 

And  tis  the  Kings  command  me  be  held  odious. 
Aire.      The  King  of  heauen   commandeth   other- 
wife  ; 

And  if  thou  be  not  willing  to  relieve  her, 
Let  it  fuffize  thou  feefl  her  miferable, 
And  ftudy  not  to  amplify  her  grief. 

Enter  M.   Blage  verie  poorly  a  begging,  with  her  basket 
and  clap-dijh. 

What  other  woful  fpedlacle  comes  here  ? 

When  Rufford  lookes  away,  Aire  throwes  his  purfe 

to  Miflrifs  Shore. 
Miflrifs,  take  that  and  fpend  it  for  my  fake. 

Bla.     Oh  I  am  pincht  with  more  then   common 

want. 

Where  (hall  I  find  relief  1     Good  gentleman, 
Pity  a  wretched  woman,  like  to  flame, 
And  I  wil  pray  for  ye.     One  halfpennie, 
For  Chrifts  fake,  to  comfort  me  withall. 

Ruf.     What,   Miflrifs  Blage  !  ift  you  ?  no  maruaile, 

fure, 

But  you  mould  be  relieued  :  a  halfpenny,  quotha  1 
I,  marry,  fir ;  and  fo  be  hanged  myfelf ! 
Not  I :  this  gentleman  may,  if  he  pleafe. 
Get  you  to  your  companion,  miflrifs  Shore, 
And  then  there  is  a  paire  of  queanes  well  met 
Now  I  bethink  me,  He  go  to  the  King, 
And  tell  him  that  fome  will  relieue  Shores  wife, 
Except  fome  officer  there  be  appointed 
That  carefully  regards  it  be  not  fo. 
Thereof  myfelf  will  I  make  offer  to  him, 
Which  queflionlefs  he  cannot  but  accept, 
So  (hall  I  flill  purfue  Shores  wife  with  hate, 
That  fcorned  me  in  her  high  whores  eflate.  Exit. 

Bla.     Good  gentleman,  beflow  your  charity, 


1 70  The  fecond part  of 

One  fingle  halfpenny  to  helpe  my  neede. 

Aire.     Not  one,  were  I  the  mafter  of  a  mint 
What  ?  fuccour  thee  that  didft  betray  thy  friend  1 
See  where  me  fits  !  whom  thou  didft  fcorne  indeed, 
And  therefore  rightly  art  thou  fcornd  again. 
Thou  thoughtft  to  be  enriched  by  her  goods, 
But  thou  haft  now  loft  both  thy  own  and  hers ; 
And  for  my  part,  knew  1 1 would  faue  thy  life, 
Thou  ihouldft  not  get  fo  much  as  a  crumb  of  bread. 
Packe  counterfeit  packe  away  diffembling  drab. 

Bla.     Oh,  mifery,  but  mail  I  ftay  to  looke 
Her  in  the  face  whom  I  fo  much  haue  wronged  ? 

Jane.     Yes,  miftreffe  JBlage  I  freely  pardon  you. 
You  haue  done  me  no  wrong.     Come,  fit  by  me. 
Twas  fo  in  wealth  ;  why  not  in  pouerty  1 

Bla.     Oh,  willingly,  if  you  can  brooke  her  prefence, 
Whom  you  have  greater  reafon  to  defpife. 

Jane.     Why  woman,    Richard,  that  hath  banilht 

me 

And  feekes  my  ruine  (caufelefs  though  it  be) 
Do  I  in  heart  pray  for,  and  will  do  Hill. 
Come  thou,  and  mare  with  me  what  God  hath  f ent : 
A  ftranger  gaue  it  me  ;  and  part  thereof 
I  do  as  freely  now  beftow  on  you. 

Bla.     I  thank  you,  miftrefs  Shore,  this  courtefy 
Renewes  the  grief  of  my  inconftancy. 

Enter  mafter  Shore,  with  relief  for  his  wife. 

Shore.     Yonder  me  fits  how  like  a  witherd  tree, 
That  is  in  winter  leaueleffe  and  bereft 
Of  liuely  fap,  fits  the  poor  abiect  foul, 
How  much  vnlike  the  woman  is  fhe  now, 
She  was  but  yefterday :  fo  fhort  and  brittle 
Is  this  worlds  happinefs  :  But  who  is  that, 
Falfe   miftrefs   Blage  1    how  canft   thou    brook   her 

Janel 

I  thou  waft  always  mild  and  pitifull  ! 
Oh  hadft  thou  been  as  chad,  we  had  beene  bleft  ! 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         1 7 1 

But  now  no  more  of  that :  me  fhall  not  flarue, 
So  long  as  this,  and  fuch  as  this  may  feme. 
Here,  nriftrefs  Shore  feed  on  thefe  homely  cates, 
And  there  is  wine  to  drink  them  downe  withal. 

Jane.     Good  fir,  your  name  1  that  pities  poor  Jane 

Shore, 
That  in  my  praiers  I  may  remember  you. 

Shore.     No  matter  for  my  name  ;  I  am  a  friend 
That  loues  you  well.     So  farewell,  miflrifs  Shore, 
When  that  is  fpent,  I  vow  to  bring  you  more. 

Jane.     Gods  bleffing  be  your  guide  where  ere  you 

go  ! 

Thus,  miflrifs  Blage,  you  fee,  amidft  our  woe, 
For  all  the  world  can  do,  God  fends  reliefe, 
And  will  not  yet  we  perifh  in  our  grief. 
Come,  let  us  ftep  into  fome  fecret  place, 
Where  undifturbd  we  may  partake  this  grace. 

Bla.     Tis  not  amiffe,  if  you  be  fo  content, 
For  here  the  fields  too  open  and  frequent.       Exeunt. 

Mafter  Shore  enters  againe. 

Shore.     What,  is  fhe  gone  fo  f oone  ?  alacke  poore 

Jane, 

How  I  compaffionate  thy  woful  cafe ! 
Whereas  we  liued  togither  man  and  wife, 
Oft  on  an  humble  flool  by  the  fire-fide 
Sate  fhe  contented,  when  as  my  high  heat 
Would  chide  her  for  it ;  but  what  would  fhe  fay  ? 
Husband,  we  both  mufl  lower  fit  one  day. 
When  I  dare  fwear  fhe  neuer  dreamd  of  this  : 
But  fee,  good  God,  what  prophefying  is. 

Enter  Rufford  and  Fogge  with   the  counterfait 
letter-patents.     Shore  Jlands  afide. 

Ruf.     This   is   King  Richards  hand ;    I   know  it 

well ; 
And  this  of  thine  is  iuflly  counterfeit, 


172  The  fecond  part  of 

As  he  himfelf  would  fwear  it  were  his  own. 

Shore.     The  Kings  hand  counterfeit  1  lift  more 
that. 

Ruf.     Why,  euery  letter,  eeury  little  dafh 
In  all  refpecls  alike  !     Now  may  I  vfe 
My  tranfportation  of  my  corn  and  hides, 
Without  the  danger  of  forbidding  lawe  ; 
And  fo  I  would  haue  done  in  Edivards  days, 
But  that  good  miftrifs  Shore  did  pleafe  to  crofs  me ; 
But  mark  ho\*  now  I  will  requite  her  for  it ! 
I  moud  my  fuit,  and  plainly  told  the  King 
Some  would  relieue  her,  if  no  man  had  charge 
To  fee  feverely  to  the  contrary. 
Forthwith  his  Grace  appointed  me  the  man, 
And  gaue  me  officers  to  waite  vpon  me, 
Which  will  fo  countenance  thy  cunning  work, 
As  I  mail  no  way  be  fufpected  in  it. 
How  faift  thou  Fogge-1 

Fogg.     It  will  do  well  indeed. 
But  good  fir  haue  a  care  in  any  cafe, 
For  elfe  you  know  what  harme  may  come  thereon. 

Ruf.     A  care,  faieft  thou  1    Why,  man,'  I  will  not 

truft 

My  houfe,  my  flrongeft  locks,  nor  any  place 
But  mine  owne  bofom.     There  will  I  keepe  it  ftill. 
If  I  mifcarry,  fo  doth  it  with  me. 

Shore.     Are  ye  fo  cunning  fir  ?  I  fay  no  more. 
Jane  Shore  or  I  may  quittance  you  for  this.         Exit. 

Ruf.     Well,  Fog%e,  I  haue  contented  thee. 
Thou  maift  be  gone  :  I  muft  about  my  charge, 
To  fee  that  none  releeue  Shores  wife  with  ought. 

Exit  Fogge. 

Enter  the  Officers  with  bills. 

Come  on,  good  fellows  !  you  that  muft  attend 
King  Richards  feruice,  vnder  my  command, 
Your  charge  is  to  be  very  vigilant 
Ouer  that  ftrumpet  whom  they  call  Shores  wife. 
If  any  traitor  giue  her  but  a  mite, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 7  3 

A  draught  of  water,  or  a  cruft  of  bread, 
Or  any  other  food,  whatere  it  be, 
Lay  hold  on  him  ;  for  it  is  prefent  death 
By  good  King  Richards  proclamation. 
This  is  her  haunt :  here  (land  I  Sentinell, 
Keepe  you  vnfeene,  and  aid  me  when  I  call. 

Enter  Jockie  and  Jeffrey,  with  a  bottle  of  ale,  cheefe, 
and  halfepenny  loaves,  to  play  at  bowles.  Mi/Iris 
Shore  enters  and  fits  where  Jtie  was  wont. 

Jockie.  Now  rnuft  I  under  colour  of  playing  at 
bowles,  help  till  relieue  my  gude  maiftres,  maiflres 
Short.  Come,  Jeffrey,  we  will  play  fiue  vp,  for  this 
bottle  of  ale,  and  yonder  gude  puir  woman  mall  keep 
the  flakes,  and  this  cheefe  (hall  be  the  maifter. 

They  play  ftill  towards  her,  and  Jockie  often  breakes 
bread  and  cheefe,  &  gives  her,  A"// Jeffrey  being  called 
away,  he  then  giues  her  all,  and  is  apprehended. 

Ruf.     Here  is  a  villain  that  will  not  relieue  her, 
But  yet  hele  lofe  ;  he  bowls  that  way  to  help  her. 
Apprehend  him,  fellows,  when  I  bid  ye. 
Although  his  mate  be  gone,  he  mail  pay  for  it. 
Take  him,  and  let  the  .beadles  whip  him  well. 

Jockie.  Hear  ye,  fir  !  (hall  they  be  whipt  and 
hanged  that  giue  to  the  puir  1  then  they  (hall  be 
damned  that  take  fro'  the  puir.  They  lead  him  away. 

Enter  young  Aire  againe,  and  Shore  Jlands  aloof  off. 

Aire.     Oh  yonder  fits  the  fweet  forfaken  foule, 
To  whom  for  euer  I  (land  deeply  bound. 
She  faved  my  life  :  then,  Aire,  help  to  faue  hers. 

Ruf.     Whither  go  ye,  fir  ? 
You  come  to  give  this  ftrumpet  fome  reliefe. 

Ayre.     She  did  more  good  then  euer  thou  canfl  do, 
And  if  thou  wilt  not  pity  her  thyfelf, 
Give  others  leaue,  by  duty  bound  thereto. 


1 74  The  fecond  part  of 

Here,  miftrefs  Shore,  take  this  ;  and  would  to  God 
It  were  fo  much  as  my  poor  heart  could  wifh. 

He  gives  his  purje. 

Shore.     Who  is  it  that  thus  pities  my  poor  wife  1 
Tis  Matter  Aire ;  God's  bleffmg  on  him  for  it. 

Ruf.     Darefl  thou  do  fo,  Airet 

Ay  re.     Ruff  or d,  I  dare  do  more. 
Here  is  my  ring  :  it  waies  an  ounce  of  gold  ; 
And  take  my  cloake  to  keepe  ye  from  the  cold. 

Rnf.     Thou  art  a  traitor,  Aire. 

Ayre. .   Rufford,  thou  art  a  villaine  fo  to  call  me. 

Ruf*     Lay  hold  on  him.     Attach  him,  officers. 

Ayre.     Rufford  ile  anfwer  thine  arreft  with  this. 

He  draivs  his  rapier •,  but  he  is  apprehended. 

Ruf.     All  this  contending,  fir,  will  not  auaile, 
This  treafon  will  be  rated  at  thy  life. 

Ayre.     Life  is  too  little  for  her  fake  that  faued  it. 

Shore.     Is  he  a  traitor,  fir,  for  doing  good  1 
God  faue  the  King,  a  true  heart  means  no  ill. 
I  truft  he  hath  reclaimd  his  fharpe  edict, 
And  will  not  that  his  pooreft  fubje6l  perifli ; 
And  fo  perfwaded,  I  myfelf  will  doe 
That  which  both  loue  and  nature  binds  me  to. 
I  cannot  giue  her  as  me  well  deferues ; 
For  me  hath  loll  a  greater  benefit. 
Poor  woman,  take  that  purfe. 

Ruf.     Ile  take't  away, 

Shore.     You  mall  not,  fir ;  for  I  will  anfwer  it 
Before  the  King,  if  you  inforce  it  fo. 

Ruf.     It  muft  be  fo.     You  mail  vnto  the  King. 

Shore.     You  will  be  he  will  firfl  repent  the  thing. 
Come,  mailer  Aire,  ile  bear  ye  company, 
Which  wife  men  fay  doth  eafe  calamity.  Exeunt. 

Jane.     If  grief  to  fpeech  free  paffage  could  afford, 
Or  for  each  woe  I  had  a  fitting  word, 
I  might  complain,  or  if  my  floods  of  tears 
Could  moue  remorfe  of  minds,  or  pierfe  dull  ears, 
Or  warn  away  my  cares,  or  cleanfe  my  crime, 
With  words,  and  tears  I  would  bewail  the  time. 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         175 

But  it  is  bootlefs  ;  why  Hue  I  to  fee 

All  thofe  defpifed  that  do  pity  me  ? 

Defpifed  ?  alas,  deftroyed  and  led  to  death, 

That  gaue  me  almes  here  to  prolong  my  breath. 

Fair  dames,  behold  !  let  my  example  proue, 

There  is  no  loue  like  to  a  husbands  loue.  Exit. 

Enter  King  Richard,  Louell,  Catesby,  Rufford,  Shore 
and  Aire  pinioned  and  led  betwixt  two  Officers. 

Glos.     Now,  tell  us,  Rufford,  which  of  thefe  it  is, 
That,  in  the  heat  of  his  vpheaued  fpleene, 
Contemnes  our  crowne,  difdaines  our  dignity, 
And  armes  himfelfe  againfl  authority. 

Ruf.     Both  haue  offended  my  dread  foueraigne, 
Though  not  alike,  yet  both  faults  capital. 
Thefe  lines  declare  what,  when,  and  where  it  was. 

Glos.     Which  is  that  Aire  ? 

Ruf.     This  young  man,  my  liege. 

Glos.      I   thought  it  was    fome  hot  diflempered 

blood, 

That  fired  his  giddy  braine  with  bufmeffe. 
Is  thy  name  Aire  ^ 

Ayre.     It  is. 

Glos.     This  paper  fays  fo. 

Ayre.     Perifh  may  he  that  made  that  paper  fpeak. 

Glos.     Ha  ?  doft  thou  wifh  confufion  vnto  us  ? 
This  paper  is  the  organe  of  our  power, 
And  mall  pronounce  thy  condemnation. 
We  make  it  fpeake  thy  treafon  to  thy  face, 
And  thy  malitious  tong  fpeakes  treafon  ftill. 
Relievfl  thou  Shores  wife,  in  contempt  of  vs  ? 

Ayre.     No ;  but  her  iuft  defert. 
She  faued  my  life,  which  I  had  forfeited, 
Whereby  my  goods  and  life  me  merited. 

Glos.     And   thou  malt  pay   it,   in    the   felfefame 

place 

Where  thou  this  man  our  officer  did  ft  outface, 
And  fcorndft  us  faying  if  we  flood  by, 


1 76  Thefecond  fart  of 

Thou  wouldfi.  relieue  her. 

Ayre.     I  do  it  not  deny 

For  want  of  food  her  breath  was  neere  expird  : 
I  gaue  her  meanes  to  buy  it  undefirde, 
And  rather  chufe  to  die  for  charity, 
Then  Hue  condemned  of  ingratitude. 

Glos.     Your  good  deuotion  brings  you  to  tfie  gal 
lows  : 
He  hath  his  fentence.     Rufford,  fee  him  hanged. 

They  lead  out  A  ire. 
Now,  fir,  your  name  ? 

Shore.     Is  it  not  written  there  ? 

Glos.     Heres  Matthew  flood. 

Ruf.     That  is  his  name,  my  lord. 

Glos.     Is  thy  name  Flood  1 

Shore.     So  matter  Ruff  or d  faies. 

Glos.     Flood  and  Aire  the  elements  confpire, 
In  aire  and  water,  to  confound  our  power. 
Didft  thou  relieue  that  hateful  wretch,  Shores  wife  ? 

Shore.      I   did   relieue   that  woful   wretch,  Shores 
wife. 

Glos.     Thou  feemft  a  man  well  flaid  and  tempe 
rate  : 
Durfl  thou  infringe  our  proclamation  ? 

Shore.     I  did  not  breake  it. 

Ruf.     Yes  and  added  more, 
That  you  would  anfwere  it  before  the  King. 

Shore.     And  added  more,  you  would  repent   the 
thing. 

Ruf.     Who  ?  I  ?  his  highnes  knows  my  innocence, 
And  ready  feruice  with  my  goods  and  life' : 
Anfwer  thy  treafons  to  his  maieflie. 

Glos.   What  canft  thou  fay,  Flood,  why  thou  fhouldft 
not  die  1 

Shore.     Nothing  for  I  am  mortal  and  muft  die, 
When  my  time  comes  ;  but  that  I  thinks  not  yet, 
Although  (God  knows)  each  houre  I  wifh  it  were, 
So  full  of  dolor  is  my  wearie  life. 
Now  fay  I  this,  that  I  do  know  the  man 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          1 7  7 

Which  doth  abet  that  traiterous  libeller, 

Who  did  compofe  and  fpread  that  flanderous  rime, 

Which  fcandals  you  and  doth  abufe  the  time. 

Glos.     What  libeller  ?  another  Collingborne  1 
That  wrote  :  The  Cat,  the  Rat,  and  Louell  our  dog, 
Do  rule  all  England  vnder  a  hog. 
Canfl  thou  repeat  it,  Floodl 

Shore.     I  think  I  can,  if  you  command  me  fo. 
Glos.     We  do  command  thee. 
Shore.     In  this  fort  it  goes  : 

The  crook-bakt  Boare  the  way  hath  found 
To  root  our  Rofes  from  the  ground. 
Both  flower  and  bud  will  he  confound, 
Till  King  of  beajls  thefwine  be  crownde : 
And  then  the  Dog,  the  Cat,  and  Rat, 
Shall  in  his  trough  feed  and  be  fat. 
Finis,  quoth  mafter  Fogge,  chief  fecretary  and  counfel- 
lor  to  mailer  Rufford. 

Glos.     How  fayft  thou  Rood,  doth  Rufford  fofter 

this? 

SJwre.     He  is  a  traitour,  if  he  do,  my  lord. 
Ruf.     I  fofter  it  1  dread  lord,  I  aske  no  grace, 
If  I  be  guilty  of  this  libelling. 
Vouchfafe  me  iuftice,  as  you  are  my  prince, 
Againft  this  traitor  that  accufeth  me. 

Shore.     What  iuftice  crauft  thou  ?     I  will  combat 

thee. 

In  fign  whereof,  I  do  unbutton  me, 
And  in  my  fhirt  my  challenge  will  maintain. 
Thou  calft  me  traitor :  I  will  proue  thee  one. 
Open  thy  bofom  like  me,  if  thou  dareft. 

Ruf.     I  will  not  be  fo  rude,  before  his  grace. 
Shore.     Thou  wilt  not  ope  the  pack  of  thy  dif- 

grace. 
Becaufe  thy  doublets  ftufft  with  traiterous  libels. 

Glos.     Catesby,  tear  off  the  buttons  from  his  breaft. 
What  findft  thou  there  ? 

Cat.    Your  highnes  hand  and  feal, 
For  tranfportation  of  hides,  corne,  and  lead. 

1  N 


1 7  8  The  fecond  part  of 

Glos.     Traitor,  did  I  fign  that  commiffion  ? 

Ruf.     O  pardon  me,  moft  royall  King  ! 

Glos.     Pardon  ?  to  counterfeit  my  hand  and  feal  ? 
Haue  I  beftowd  fuch  loue,  fuch  countenance, 
Such  truft  on  thee,  and  hich  authority,  ; 
To  haue  my  hand  and  fignet  counterfet  ? 
To  carry  corn,  the  food  of  all  the  land, 
And  lead,  which  after  might  annoy  the  land, 
And  hides,  whofe  leather  mofl  relieue  the  land, 
To  flrangers,  enemies  vnto  the  land, 
Didft  thou  fo  nearly  counterfeit  my  hand  1 

Ruf.     Not  I,  my  liege  !  but  Fogge,  the  attorney. 

Glos.     Away  with  him,  Louell  and  Catesby  ^  go, 
Command  the  Sheriffs  of  London  prefently, 
To  fee  him  drawne,  and  hangd,  and  quartered. 
Let  them  not  drinke  before  they  fee  him  dead. 
Haft  you  again. 

Louell  and  Catesby  lead  out  Rufford. 

Rttf.     Well,  Flood,  thou  art  my  death. 
I  might  haue  liud  to  haue  feene  thee  lofe  thy  head. 

Shore.     Thou  haft  but  iuftice  for  thy  cruelty 
Againft  the  guiltleffe  fouls  in  mifery. 
I  aske  no  fauour,  if  I  merit  death. 

Glos.     Crauft  thou  no   fauour?  then  I  tell  thee, 

Flood, 

Thou  art  a  traitor,  breaking  our  edict, 
By  fuccouring  that  traitrous  quean,  Shores  wife, 
And  thou  malt  die. 

Shore.     If  I  haue  broke  the  law. 

Glos.     If,   traitor?   didft  thou   not  giue  her  thy 

purfe  ? 
And  doft  thou  not  maintaine  the  deede  ? 


Enter  Louell  and  Catesby  againe. 

Shore.     I  do, 

If  it  be  death  to  the  relenting  heart 
Of  a  kind  husband,  wronged  by  a  king, 
To  pity  his  poore  weake  feduced  wife, 


I 


King  Edward  the  fourth.          1 79 

Whome  all  the  world  mufl  fuffer  by  command, 
To  pine  and  perifh  for  the  want  of  food  : 
If  it  be  treafon  for  her  husband  then, 
In  the  deare  bowels  of  his  former  loue 
To  bury  his  owne  wrong  and  her  mifdeed, 
And  giue  her  meat  whom  he  was  wont  to  feed, 
Then  Shore  mufl  die ;  for  Flood  is  not  my  name, 
Though  once  I  tooke  it  to  conceale  my  fhame. 
Pity  permits  not  injurd  Shore  pafs  by, 
And  fee  his  once-loued  wife  with  famine  die. 

Glos.     Louell  and  Catesby  \  this  is  Shore,  indeed. 
Shore^  we  confefs  that  thou  haft  priuiledge, 
And  art  excepted  in  our  proclamation, 
Becaufe  thou  art  her  husband,  whom  it  concerns  ; 
And  thou  maid  lawfully  relieue  thy  wife, 
Vpon  condition  thou  forgiue  her  fault, 
Take  her  againe,  and  vfe  her  as  before  ; 
Hazard    new    homes;    how  faieft  thou,   wilt   thou, 
Shore  ? 

Shore.     If  any  but  your  Grace  mould  fo  vpbraid, 
Such  rude  reproach  mould  roughly  be  repaid. 
Suppofe  for  treafon  that  fhe  lay  condemned, 
Might  I  not  feed  her  till  her  hour  of  death, 
And  yet  myfelf  no  traitor  for  it  ? 

Glof.     Thou  mightefl. 

Shore.     And  why  not  now,  (O  pardon  me,  dread 

lord!) 

When  fhe  hath  had  both  punifhment  and  fhame 
Sufficient,  fmce  a  king  did  caufe  her  blame, 
May  I  not  giue  her  food  to  faue  her  life, 
Yet  neuer  take  and  vfe  her  as  my  wife  ? 

Glof.      Except   thou    take    her    home   againe    to 

thee, 

Thou  art  a  flranger,  and  it  mall  not  be, 
For  if  thou  do,  expect  what  doth  belong. 

Shore.     I  neuer  can  forget  fo  great  a  wrong. 

Glof.     Then  neuer  feede  her  whom  thou  canft  not 
loue. 

Shore.     My  charity  doth  that  companion  moue. 

N2 


180  The  fecond part  of 

Glof.     Moue  vs  no  more.      Louell,   let   Aire 

hangd, 

Juft  in  the  place  where  he  relieued  Shores  wife. 
Shore  hath  his  pardon  for  this  firfl  offence  : 
The  name  of  husband  pleads  his  innocence. 
Away  with  them  :    Catesby,  come  you  with  vs. 

Exeunt. 

Jockie  is  led  to  whipping  ouer  the  Jlage,  fpeaking  fame 
words,  but  of  no  importance.  Then  is  young  Aire 
brought  forth  to  execution  by  the  Sheriff  and  Offi 
cers,  Mi/Iris  Shore  weeping,  and  mafter  Shore 
Jlanding  by. 

Aire.     Good  miftrifs  Shore  grieue  me  not  with  your 

teares  j 
But  let  me  go  in  quiet  to  my  end. 

Jane.     Alas  poore  foule  ! 
Was  neuer  innocent  thus  put  to  death  ! 

Aire.     The  mores  my  ioy  that  I  am  innocent. 
My  death  is  the  lefle  grieuous,  I  am  fo. 

Jane.     Ah  mafter  Aire\  the  time  hath  been  ere 

now, 

When  I  haue  kneeld  to  Edward  on  my  knees, 
And  beggd  for  him  that  now  doth  make  me  beg, 
I  haue  giuen  him  when  he  hath  begd  of  me, 
Though  he  forbids  to  giue  me  when  I  beg. 
I  haue  ere  now  relieued  him  and  his, 
Though  he  and  his  deny  relief  to  me. 
Had  I  been  enuious  then,  as  Richard  now, 
I  had  not  ftarud,  nor  Edwards  fons  been  murderd, 
Nor  Richard  liued  to  put  you  now  to  death. 

Aire.     The  more,  Jane,  is  thy  vertue  and  his  fin. 

Sheriff.     Come  fir  difpatch  ! 

Aire.      Difpatch,    fay  you  ?    difpatch  you  may  it 

call  : 
He  cannot  Hay  when  death  difpatch eth  all. 

Jane.     Lord,  is  my  fin  fo  horrible  and  grieuous, 
That  I  mould  now  become  a  murderer  ^ 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 8 1 

I  haue  faude  the  life  of  many  a  man  condemnd, 
But  neuer  was  the  death  of  man  before. 
That  any  man  thus  for  my  fake  mould  die, 
Afflicts  me  more  then  all  my  mifery. 

Aire.     Jane,  be  content ! 
I  am  as  much  indebted  vnto  thee, 
As  vnto  nature  :  I  owed  thee  a  life 
When  it  was  forfeit  vnto  death  by  law. 
Thou  begdft  it  of  the  king  and  gau'fl  it  me. 
This  houfe  of  flefh,  wherein  this  foul  doth  dwell, 
Is  thine,  and  thou  art  landladie  of  it, 
And  this  poor  life  a  Tenant  but  at  pleafure, 
It  neuer  came  to  pay  the  rent  till  now, 
But  hath  run  in  arerage  all  this  while, 
And  now  for  very  fhame  comes  to  difcharge  it, 
When  death  diftrains  for  what  is  but  thy  due. 
I  had  not  ought  thee  fo  much  as  I  doe, 
But  by  thy  only  mercy  to  preferue  it, 
Vntil  I  lofe  it  for  my  charity. 
Thou  giufl  me  more  than  euer  I  can  pay. 
Then  do  thy  pleafure  executioner 
And  now,  farewell,  kind,  vertuous,  miflrifs  Shore  \ 
In  heauen  weele  meet  again :  in  earth  no  more. 

Here  he  is  executed. 

Jane.     Farewell,  farewell !  thou  for  thy  alms  doft 

die, 

And  I  mud  end  here  flarued  in  mifery ! 
In  life  my  friend,  in  death  lie  not  forfake  thee. 
Thou  goeft  to  heauen ;  I  hope  to  ouertake  thee. 

Shore.     O  world,  what  art  thou  ?  man,  euen  from 

his  birth, 

Finds  nothing  elfe  but  mifery  on  earth, 
Thou  neuer  (world)  fcorndft  me  fo  much  before ; 
But  I  vaine  world  doe  hate  thee  ten  times  more. 
I  am  glad  I  fee  approaching  death  fo  nie 
World  thou  hateft  me  :  I  thee,  vain  world  defie. 
I  pray  ye  yet  good  matter  officers  ! 
Do  but  this  kindnefs  to  poore  wretched  fouls, 
As  let  vs  haue  the  burial  of  our  friend  : 


1 8  2  The  fecond part  of 

It  is  but  fo  much  labour  fau'd  for  you. 

She.     There,  take  his   body !    bury  it  where    you 

will; 
So  it  be  quickly  done  out  of  the  way. 

Exit  Sheriff  and  Officers. 
Jane.     Whats    he    that    begs   the   burial   of   my 

friend  1 

And  hath  fo  oftentimes  relieued  me  ? 
Ah,  gentle  fir  to  comfort  my  fad  woe, 
Let  me  that  good  kind  man  of  mercy  know. 

Shore.     Ah,   Jane    now   there   is   none  but    thou 

and  I, 
Look    on    me    well.      Knowft    thou    thy    Matthew 

Shore  ? 
Jane.     My  husband  !  then  breake  my  heart ,  and 

Hue  no  more  ! 

:,  , .       Shefwounds,  and  he fupports  her  in  his  armes. 
Shore.     Ah   my  deare    Jane    comfort   thy  heauy 

foule, 

Go  not  away  fo  foone  ;  a  little  flay, 
A  little,  little  while,  that  thou  and  I, 
Like  man  and  wife  may  here  together  die. 

Jane.     How  can  I  looke  vpon  my  husbands  face, 
That    fhamd    myfelf,    and    wrought    his    deep    dif- 

grace  \ 
Shore.      Jane,   be   content.     Our   woes    are  now 

alike. 

With  one  felf  rod  thou  feefl  God  doth  vs  flrike. 
If  for  thy  fin,  ile  pray  to  heauen  for  thee, 
And  if  for  mine,  do  thou  as  much  for  me. 

Jane.      Ah,  Shore  ifl    poffible  thou  canil  forgiue 

me? 

Shore.     Yes,  Jane,  I  do. 
Jane.     I  cannot  hope  thou  wilt. 
My  faults  fo  great,  that  I  cannot  expect  it. 

Shore.     Ifaith,  I  do,  as  freely  from  my  foule, 
As  at  Gods  hands  I  hope  to  be  forgiuen. 

Jane.     Then  God  reward  thee,  for  we  now  mufl 
part : 


King  Edward  the  fourth.         183 

I  feel  cold  death  doth  feize  vpon  my  heart 

shore.     And  he  is  come  to  me.     Lo  !  here  he  lies ; 
I  feele  him  ready  to  clofe  vp  mine  eyes. 
Lend  me  thy  hand  to  burie  this  our  friend, 
Anc  then  we  both  will  haften  to  our  end. 

Here  they  put  the  body  of  yong  Aire  into  a  Coffin, 
and  then  he  fits  down  on  the  one  fide  of  it,  and 
Jhe  on  the  other. 

fare,  fit  thou  there  !     Here  I  my  place  will  haue, 
jiie  me  thy  hand  ;  thus  we  embrace  our  graue, 
Ah,  Jane  \  he  that  the  depth  of  woe  will  fee, 
Lethim  but  now  behold  our  mifery  ! 
Butbe  content  \  this  is  the  beft  of  all, 
Lover  than  now  we  are,  we  cannot  fall ! 

Jane.     Ah,  I  am  faint !  how  happy  Aire,  art  thou, 
Notfeeling  that  which  doth  afflict  us  now  ! 

Store.      Oh,    happy  graue !    to    us    this   comfort 

^iuing  ! 

Her<  lies  two  liuing  dead  !  here  one  dead  liuing ! 
Hen  for  his  fake,  lo  !  this  we  do  for  thee  ! 
Thoi  lookfl  for  one,  and  art  poffeft  of  three. 

J-me.      Oh,    dying    marriage!    oh,  fweet   married 

death 

Tho.  graue,  which  only  mouldft  part  faithful  friends, 
Brin;fl  vs  togither,  and  doll  joine  our  hands. 
Oh,  iuing  death  !  euen  in  this  dying  life, 
Yet  ere  I  go,  once,  Matthew  kifs  thy  wife. 

He  kiffeth  her,  and  /he  dies. 
Shore.     Ah,  my  fweet  Jane  farewell,  farewell,  poor 

foul! 

N)W,  tyiwrtftRickard  do  the  worft  thou  canft. 
Sie  doth  defie  thee.     Oh,  vnconftant  world, 
lere  lies  a  true  anatomic  of  thee, 
^  king  had  all  my  ioy,  that  her  enioyed, 
Aid  by  a  king  again  me  was  deftroyecL 
A\  ages  of  my  kingly  woes  mail  tell. 
Cnce  more,  inconflant  world  farewell,  farewell. 

He  dyes. 


1 84  The  fecond  part  of 

Enter  Sir  Robert  Brackenburie  with  two  or  three  4 
his  Seruants. 

Bra.     Sirs  if  the  King,  or  elfe  the  Duke  of  Buck 
ingham, 

Do  fend  for  me,  I  will  attend  them  ftraight 
But  what  are  thefe,  here  openly  lie  dead  ] 
Oh,    God!    the  one    is  miftrifs  Shore >   and   this 

Flood, 

That  was  my  man.     The  third  is  matter  Aire, 
Who  fuffered  death  for  his  relieuing  her. 
They  mall  not  thus  lie  in  the  open  way. 
Lend  me  your  hands  and  heauie  hearts  withall 
At  mine  own  charge,  lie  giue  them  burialL 

They  bear  them  thene. 

\ 

Enter  King  Richard,  crowned,  Buckingham,  Ame 
of  Warwicke,  Louell,  Catesby,  Fogg,  and  Atten 
dants. 

Rich,     Mod  noble  Lords  fince  it  hath  pleafed  yo 
Beyond  our  expectation  on  your  bounties, 
T'empale  my  temples  with  the  Diademe, 
How  far  my  quiet  thoughts  haue  euer  beene 
From  this  fo  great  maieftike  fouerainty, 
Heauen  beft  can  witnefs.     Now  I  am  your  king. 
Long  may  I  be  fo,  to  deferue  your  loue, 
But  I  will  be  a  feruant  to  you  all, 
Pray  God  my  broken  fleeps  may  giue  you  reft. 
But  onely  that  my  bloud  doth  challenge  it, 
Being  your  lawfull  Prince  by  true  fucceffion, 
I  could  haue  wifht  with  all  my  heart  I  could, 
This  maiefty  had  fitten  on  the  brow 
Of  any  other ! 

So  much  do  I  affect  a  priuate  life, 
To  fpend  my  dayes  in  contemplation. 
But  fmce  that  Heauen  and  you  will  haue  it  fo, 
I  take  crown  as  meekly  at  your  hands, 
As  free  and  pure  from  an  ambitious  thought, 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 8  5 

As  any  new  bom  babe  !     Thus  mud  thou  Richard, 

afide. 

Seeme  as  a  faint  to  men  in  outward  mow, 
Being  a  very  diuill  in  thy  heart. 
Thus  muft  thou  couer  all  thy  villanies, 
And  keepe  them  clofe  from  ouerlookers  eyes. 

Buck.     My  foueraign  by  the  general  confent 
Of  all  the  Lords  and  commons  of  the  land, 
I  tender  to  your  royal  maieflie 
This  princely  lady,  the  Lady  Anne  of  Warwick, 
Judged  the  only  worthier!  of  your  loue, 
To  be  your  highneffe  bride,  faire  Englands  Queen. 

Rich,     My  royall  princely  cofin,  Buckingham 
I  fee  you  ftriue  to  bleffe  me  more  and  more. 
Your  bounty  is  fo  large  and  ample  to  me, 
You  ouerflow  my  fpirits  with  your  great  loue. 
I  willingly  accept  this  vertuous  princefs, 
And  crowne  her  angel-beauty  with  my  loue. 

Lov.     Then,  at  the  hand  of  your  high  parliament, 
I  giue  her  here  vnto  your  maiefly, 

Rich.     Lord  Louell\  I  as  heartily  receiue  her. 
Welcome,  fair  Queen  ! 

Cat.    And  from  the  lords  and  commons  of  your 

land, 

I  giue  the  free  and  voluntary  oath 
Of  their  allegeance  to  your  maiefly, 
As  to  their  foueraign  and  liege  lord  and  lady, 
Richard  the  third  and  beauteous  Anne,  his  queen, 
The  true  and  lawful  king  and  queen  of  England. 

Rich.     I  do  accept  it  Catesby,  and  returne 
Exchange  of  mutual  and  party  loue. 
Now,  Fogge  too,  that  in  your  traiterous  libels, 
Befides  the  counterfeiting  of  our  hand  and  feal 
For  Rufford,  though  fo  great  a  fault  deferud 
To  fuffer  death,  as  he  already  hath, 
Going  about  to  flubber  our  renowne, 
And  wound  vs  with  reproach  and  infamy, 
Yet,  Fogge,  that  thou  thyfelf  maift  plainly  fee 
How  far  I  am  from  feeking  fharp  reuenge, 


1 86  The  fecond part  of 

Fogge,  I  forgiue  thee.     And  withall  we  do 
Repeal  our  heauy  fentence  gainft  Shores  wife, 
Refloring  all  her  goods  ;  for  we  intend 
With  all  the  world  now  to  be  perfect  friends. 

Cat.     Why,   my  good  lord,   you   know  fhes  dead 
already. 

Rich.     True,  Catesby,  elfe  I ,  ne'er  had  fpoke  fuch 
words  afide. 

Alas  I  fee,  our  kindneffe  comes  too  late, 
For  Catesby  tells  me  me  is  dead  already. 

Cat.     I,  my  good  lord,  fo  is  her  husband  too. 

Rich.     Would  they  had  liude,  to  fee  our  friendly 

change, 
But,  Catesby,  fay,  where  died  Shore  and  his  wife  ? 

Cat,      Where  A  ire  was  hang'd  for  giuing  her  re 
lief, 
There    both    of   them,    round    circkling    his    cold 

graue, 

And  arme  in  arme,  departed  from  this  life. 
The  people,  for  the  love  they  bear  to  her 
And  her  kind  husband,  pitying  his  wrongs, 
For  euer  after  meane  to  call  the  ditch 
Shores  Ditch,  as  in  the  memory  of  them. 
Their  bodies,  in  the  Friers  minorities, 
Are  in  one  graue  enterred  all  together. 
But  miftrefs  Blage,  for  her  ingratitude 
To  miflrefs  Shore,  lies  dead  vnburied, 
And  no  one  will  afford  her  burial. 

Rich.      But  miflrefs  Bla%e,  me   mall  haue   burial 

too, 

What  now  ?  we  muft  be  friends ;  indeed  we  mufl. 
And  now,  my  lords,  I  giue  you  all  to  know, 
In  memory  of  our  eternal  loue, 
I  doe  ordain  an  Order  of  the  bath, 
Twelue  knights  in  number  of  that  royall  fort, 
Which  Order,  with  all  princely  ceremonies, 
Shall  be  obferued  in  all  royall  pompe, 
As  Edwards,  our  forefather,  of  the  garter, 
Which  feafl  our  felfe  and  our  beloued  Queene 


King  Edward  the  fourth.  1 8  7 

Will  pi?efently  folemnize  in  our  perfon. 

Buc.     Now  am  I  bold  to  put  your  grace  in  mind 
Of  my  long  fuit,  and  partly  your  own  promife, 
The  Earle  of  Hereford*  land. 

Rich.      Coufm,  weele  better  think  of  that   here 
after. 

Buc.     My  pains  my  lord  hath  not  deferud  delay. 

Rich.     Will  you  appoint  our  time,  then  you  mail 

flay. 

For  this  hote  haflinefs  fir  you  mail  flay. 
Moue  vs  no  more,  you  were  befl. 

Buc.     I  Richard,  is  it  come  to  this  *\ 
In  my  firfl  fuite  of  all,  doft  thou  deny  me, 
Breake  thine^own  word,  and  turn  me  off  fo  fleightly  ? 
Richard^  thou  hadft  as  good.^haue  damnd  thy  foul, 
As  bafely  thus  to  deal  with  Buckingham. 
Richard^  ile  fit  vpon  thy  crumped  moulder, 
I  faith,  I  will,  if  heaven  will  giue  me  leaue ; 
And,  Harry  Richmond,  this  hand  alone 
Shall  fetch  thee  home,  and  feat  thee  in  his  throne. 

*    Exit. 

Rich.     What  is  he  gone  in  heat,  why,  farewell  he, 
He  is  difpleafed  :  let  him  be  pleafed  again, 
We  haue  no  time  to  think  on  angry  men. 
Come,  my  fweet  Queen,  let  vs  go  folemnize 
Our  Knighthoods  Order  in  moft  royall  wife.    Exeunt. 


FINIS. 


IF   YOU   KNOW   NOT   ME, 


YOU    KNOW    NO    BODIE; 


OR, 


The  troubles  of  Queene  ELIZABETH. 


AT  LONDON, 

Pointed  for  Nathaniel  Butter.     1605. 


A  Prologue  to  the  P lay  of  Qiieene  Elizabeth, 
as  it  was  lajl  revived  at  the  Cock-pit, 
in  which  the  Author  taxeth  the  mojl 
corrupted  copy  now  imprinted,  which 
was  publiflied  without  his  confent. 

Prologue. 

Plays  have  a  fate  in  their  conception  lent, 
Some  fo  fhort  liv'd,  no  fooner  fhew'd,  than  fpent ; 
But  borne  to  day,  to  morrow  buried,  and 
Though  taught  to  fpeake,  neither  to  goe  nor  fland. 
This :  (by  what  fate  I  know  not)  fure  no  merit, 
That  it  difclaims,  may  for  the  age  inherit, 
Writing  'bove  one  and  twenty  ;  but  ill  nurft, 
And  yet  receiv'd,  as  well  perform'd  at  firft, 
Grac't  and  frequented,  for  the  cradle  age, 
Did  throng  the  Seates,  the  Boxes,  and  the  Stage 
So  much ;  that  fome  by  Stenography  drew 
The  plot :  put  it  in  print :  (fcarce  one  word  trew  :) 
And  in  that  lameneffe  it  hath  limp't  fo  long, 
The  Author  now  to  vindicate  that  wrong 
Hath  tooke  the  paines,  upright  upon  its  feete 
To  teach  it  walke,  fo  pleafe  you  fit,  and  fee't, 

\ 


IF    YOU    KNOW    NOT    ME, 

YOU   KNOW  NOBODY; 

OR, 

The  Troubles  of  Queen  Elizabeth. 


Enter  SuiTex  and  Lord  Chamberlaine. 

Sujj. 

|0od  morrow,  my  good  Lord  Chamberlaine. 
L.  Cham.     Many  good  morrowes  to  my 

good  Lord  of  Stiff  ex. 
Sujf.     Who's  with  the  Queen,  my  Lord  ? 
T.~Cham.     The  Cardinal  of    Winchefler,  the  Lord 
of  Tame,   the  good    Lord  Shandoyfe;    and,  befides, 
Lord   Howard,    Sir   Henry    Beningfield^    and   divers 
others. 

Suff.     A  word  my  lord  in  private. 

Enter  Tame  and  Shandoyfe. 

Shand.     Touching  the  Queene,  my  lord,  who  now 
fits  high, 

1  n 


1 94  If  you  know  not  me, 

What   thinks    the    realm    of  Philip,    th'  Emperours 

forme, 

A  marriage  by  the  Councell  treated  of  ? 
Tame.     Pray  God  't  prove  well. 
Suff.     Good  morrow  lords. 
Tame.     Good  morrow,  my  good  Lord  of  Sufftx. 
Shand.     I  cry  your  Honours  mercy. 
Cham.     Good  morrow  to  the  Lords  of  Tame  and 

Shaiidoyfe. 

Tame.     The  like  to  you,  my  Lords.     As  you  were 
fpeaking 

Enter  Lord  Howard  and  Sir  Henry  Beningfield. 

Betting.     Concerning  Wiat  and  the  Kentim  rebels, 
Their  overthrow  is  pad  :  the  rebell  Dukes, 
That    fought    by    all    meanes    to    proclaim    Queen 

Jane, 

Chiefly  Northumberland,  for  Guilfords  fake 
He  forc'd  his  brother  Duke  vnto  that  war ; 
But  each  one  had  his  merit. 

How.     Oh  my  lord, 

The  Law  proceeded  gainfl  their  great  offence, 
And   tis   not  well,   fince    they  have    fuffered    judg 
ment, 

That  we  mould  raife  their  fcandall,  being  dead  : 
Tis  impious,  not  by  true  judgment  bred. 

Suff.     Good   morrow  my   Lord ;    Good   morrow, 

good  Sir  Henry. 
Bening.     Pardon    my  lord    I    faw    you    not    till 

now. 

Cham,     Good  morrow,  good  lord  Howard. 
How.     Your  Honors.     The  like  to  you,  my  lords. 
Tame.     With  all  my  hart,  Lord  Howard. 
Cham.     Forward  I  pray. 
Suff.     The  Suffolke  men   my  Lord,  were   to   the 

Queen 

The  very  ftayres  by  which  me  did  afcend  : 
Shees  greatly  bound  unto  them  for  their  loues. 


you  know  no  body.  195 

Enter  Cardinall  of  Winchefter. 

Winch.     Good  morrow,  Lords.    Attend  the  Queene 
into  the  prefence. 

Suff.     Your  duties,  Lords.  Exeunt  Omnes. 


Enter  Tame  bearing  the  purfe,  Shandoyfe  the  mace, 
Howard  the  fcepter,  Suffex  the  croume :  then,  the 
Queene ;  after  her  the  Cardinall,  Sentlow,  Gage, 
and  attendants. 

Queen.     By   Gods    afliftance,    and    the   power  of 

heaven, 

We  are  inflated  in  our  Brothers  throne, 
And  all  thofe  powers  that  warred  againfl  our  right, 
By  help  of  heauen  and  your  friendly  aide, 
Difperfed  and  fled,  here  we  may  fit  fecure. 
Our  heart  is  joyfull,  lords,  our  peace  is  pure. 

Enter  Dodds. 

Dodds.     I  do  befeech  your  Maiefly  perufe 
This  poor  petition. 

Queen.     O  Matter  Dodds, 
We  are  indebted  to  you  for  your  loue. 
You  flood  vs  in  great  Head,  euen  in  our  ebb 
Of  fortune,  when  our  hopes  were  neare  declined, 
And  when  our  flate  did  beare  the  loweft  faile, 
Which  we  haue  reafon  to  requite,  we  know  : 
Read  his  petition,  my  good  Lord  Cardinal!. 

Dodds.     Oh,  gracious  foueraign,  let  my  lord,  the 

duke, 

Haue  the  perilling  of  it, 
Or  any  other  that  is  near  your  Grace, 
He  will  be  to  our  fuite  an  oppofite. 

Winch.  And  reafon,  fellow.  Madam,  here  is  a  large 
recital  and  vpbraiding  of  your  highnels  foueraignty  : 
the  Suffolke  men,  that  lifted  you  to  the  throne,  and 

o  2 


196  If  you  know  not  me, 

here  poffeft  you,  claim  your  promife  you  made  to  them 
about  Religion. 

Dodds.     True,  gracious  Soueraign  ; 
But  that  we  do  vpbraid  your  maiefty, 
Or  make  recitall  of  our  deeds  forepafL 
Other  then  confcience,  honefty,  and  zeale, 
By  loue,  by  faith,  and  by  our  duty  bound 
To  you,  the  true  and  next  fucceflme  heir, 
If  you  contrary  this,  I  needs  muft  fay, 
Your  skilleffe  tongue  doth  make  our  well-tuned  words 
Jarre  in  the  Princefle  ears  ;  and  of  our  text 
You  make  a  wrong  conttruc"lion.     Gracious  Queene, 
Your  humble  fubiedls  proftrate  in  my  mouth 
A  general  fuit :  when  we  firft  flockt  to  you, 
And  made  firft  head  with  you  at  Fromagkam, 
Twas  thus  concluded,  that  we,  your  liegemen, 
Should  ftill  enioy  our  confciences,  and  vfe 
That  faith  which  in  King  Edwards  dayes  was  held 

canonicall. 

Winch.     May't  pleafe  your  highnes  note  the  Com 
mons  infolence  : 
They  tie  you  to  conditions   and  fet   limits   to  your 

liking. 

Queen.     They  mall  know, 
To  whom  their  faithfull  duties  they  doe  owe  : 
Since  they,  the  limbs,  the  head  would  feeke  to  fway, 
Before  they  gouerne,  they  (hall  learne  t'  obey. 
See  it  feuerely  ordered,  Winchefter. 

Winch.     Away  with   him,    it    mall    be    throughly 

fcand  j 
And  you  vpon  the  pillory  three  dayes  ftand. 

Exit  Dodds. 
Bening.     Has  not  your  fitter,  gracious  Queene,  a 

hand 

In  thefe  petitions  ?     Well  your  highnefs  knowes, 
She  is. a  fauourite  of  thefe  heretiques. 

Winch.     And  well  remembred.     Is't  not  probable 
That  fhe  in  Wiats  expedition, 
And  other  infurreclions  lately  queld, 


you  know  no  body.  197 

Was  a  confederate  ?  If  your  highnefs  will 
Your  own  eftate  preferue,  you  muft  forefee 
Fore  danger,  and  cut  off  all  fuch  as  would 
Your  fafety  preiudice. 

Bening.     Such  is  your  filler,  a  mere  oppofite 
To  vs  in  our  opinion  ;  and,  befides, 
Shes  next  fucceflive,  mould  your  maiefty 
Die  iffuleffe,  which  heauen  defend. 

Omnes.     Which  heauen  defend. 

Bening.     The  ftate  of  our  Religion  would  decline. 

Queen.     My  lords  of  Tame  and  Chandoyfe, 
You  two  (hall  haue  a  firm  commiffion  fealed 
To  fetch  our  lifter,  young  Elizabeth, 
From  AJhbridge,  where  me  lies,  and  with  a  band 
Of  armed  fouldiers  to  conduct  her  vp  to  London, 
Where  we  will  heare  her. 

Sent.     Gracious  Queen, 
She  only  craues  but  to  behold  your  face, 
That  me  might  cleare  herfelfe 
Of  all  fuppofed  treafons,  Hill  protefting 
She  is  as  true  a  fubiecl  to  your  Grace, 
As  Hues  this  day. 

Winch.     Doe  you  not  heare  with  what  a  faucy  im 
pudence 
This  Sentlow  here  prefumes  ? 

Queen.     Away  with  him,   He   teach  him  know  his 

place  ; 
To  frown  when  we  frown,  fmile  on  whom  we  grace. 

Winch.     'Twill    be    a   means   to  keep  the  reft  in 

awe, 
Making  their  Soueraigns  brow,  to  them  a  law. 

Queen.     All  thofe   that  feeke  our   lifters  caufe  to 

fauour, 
Let  them  be  lodged. 

Winch.     Young    Courtney,    Earle    of   Deuonjhire, 

feems  chiefly 
To  affea  her  faaion. 

Queen.     Commit  him  to  the  Tower, 


198  If  you  know  not  me, 

Till  time  affords  vs  and  our  Councell  breathing  fpace. 

A  home  within. 
Whence  is  that  Pofte  ? 

Conft.     My  foueraign,  it  is  from  Southampton. 
Queen.     Our  fecretary,  vnfeale  them, 
And  return  vs  prefent  anfwer  of  the  contents. 
Whats  the  maine  bufmefle. 

Shefpeakes  to  the  L.  Conftable. 
Conft.     That  Philip,  Prince  of  Spaine, 
Son  to  the  Emperour,  is  fafely  arriu'd, 
And  landed  at  Southampton. 

Queen.     Prepare  to  meet  him,  Lords,  with  all  our 

Pompe. 
How.     Prepare  you,  lords,  with  our  faire  Queene 

to  ride ; 
And  his  high  princely  (late  let  no  man  hide. 

Queen.     Set  forward,  lords  :  this  fudden  newes  is 

fvveet ; 
Two  royall  louers  on  the  mid  way  meet.       Ex  omnes. 


Enter  Majler  Gage,  and  a  Gentlewoman. 

Gage.     Good  morrow,  miftreffe.     Came  you  from 
the  Princeffe  \ 

Worn.     Mailer  Gage,  I  did. 

Gage.     How  fares  her  grace  ? 

.'  '/om.    O  wondrous  crazy,  gentle  Matter  Gage. 
Her  lleepes  are  all  vnquiet,  and  her  head 
Beats,  and  grows  giddy  with  continuall  griefe. 

Gage.     God    grant   her   comfort,  and    releafe  her 

paine, 
So  good  a  lady  few  on  earth  remaine. 


Enter  the  Clowne. 
Clown.     Oh,  arme,  arme,  arme. 


you  know  no  body.  199 

Gage.     How  now,  whats  the  matter  ? 

Clown.  Oh  Lord  the  houfe  is  befet :  fouldiers  are 
as  hot  as  fire,  are  ready  to  enter  euery  hole  about  the 
houfe  j  for  as  I  was  a'th  top  of  the  ftacke,  the  found 
of  the  drum  hot  me  fuch  a  box  a'th  eare,  that  I 
came  tumbling  down  the  Hack,  with  a  thoufand 
billets  a'th  top  on  me.  Look  about,  and  helpe,  for 
God  fake. 

Gage.     Heauen  guard  the  Princeffe  !  grant  that  all 

be  well ! 
This  drum,  I  feare  will  proue  her  paffmg-bell. 

Enter  Tame  and  Shandoyfe,  with  Souldiers, 
drum,  &>c. 

Tame.     Wheres  the  Princeffe  1 

Gage.     Oh  my  honoured  lords, 
May  I  with  reuerence  prefume  to  aske 
What    meanes    thefe    armes  ?     Why    do    you    thus 

begirt 
A  poor  weake  lady,  neare  at  point  of  death  ? 

Shand.     Refolue  the  Princeffe  we  mud  fpeake  with 
her. 

Gentlew.     My  lords. 

Know  there  is  no  admittance  to  her  prefence 
Without  the  leaue  firft  granted  from  herfelf. 

Tame.     Goe  tell  her  we  muft,  and  will. 

Gentlew.     He  certify  fo  much.  Exit  Woman. 

Gage.     My  lords,  as  you  are  honorably  borne, 
As  you  did  loue  her  Father,  or  her  Brother, 
As  you  doe  owe  allegeance  to  the  Queene, 
In  pity  of  her  weakneffe  and  low  flate, 
With  befl  of  fauour  her  commiferate, 

Enter  Woman. 

Woman.     Her  Grace  intreats  you  but  to  flay  till 
morne, 


2Oo  If  you  know  not  me. 

And  then  your  meffage  mall  be  heard  at  full. 
Shand.     Tis  from  the  Queene,  and  we  will  fpeake 

with  her. 

Worn.     He  certify  fo  much. 

Tame.     It  mail  not    need — Preffe   after    her    my 
Lord. 


Enter  Elizabeth,  in  her  bed.   Doftor  Owine,  and  Doftor 
Wendith. 

Eliz.     We    are    not   pleafed  with   your    intrufion, 

lords, 

Is  your  haft  fuch,  or  your  affaires  fo  vrgent, 
That  fuddenly,  and  at  this  time  of  night, 
You  preffe  on  me,  and  will  not  Hay  till  morne  ? 

Tame.     Sorry  we  are,  fweet  lady,  to  behold  you 
In  this  fad  plight. 

Eliz.     And  I,  my  lords,  not  glad. 
My  heart,  oh,  how  it  beates. 

Shand.     Madam, 

Our  meffage,  and  our  duty  from  our  Queene, 
We  come  to  tender  to  you.     It  is  her  pleafure 
That  you  the  7.  day  of  this  moneth,  appeare 
At  Weflminfter. 

Eliz.     At  Weflminfter  ?     My  lords,  no  foule  more 

glad  then  I 

To  doe  my  duty  to  her  Majefty ; 
But  I  am  forry  at  the  heart. — My  heart ! 
Oh  good  doclor  raife  jme.     Oh,  my  heart !; — I  hope 

my  lords, 

Considering  my  extremity  and  weaknefs, 
You  will  difpenfe  a  little  with  your  hafle. 

Tame  Do6lor  Owine  and  Doclor  Wendith^ 
You  are  the  Queenes  phyfitians,  truly  fworn 
On  your  allegeance  : 

As  before  her  highnefs  you  will  anfwer  it, 
Speak,  may  the  Princefs  be  remou'd  with  life  \ 


you  know  no  body.  201 

D.  Ow.     Not  without  danger,  lords,  yet  without 

death. 

Her  feuer  is  not  mortall ;  yet  you  fee 
Into  what  danger  it  hath  brought  the  Princefle. 

Shand.     Is  your  opinion  fo  1 

D.  Wend.     My  iudgement  is,  not  deadly  but  yet 

dangerous. 

No  fooner  fhall  me  come  to  take  the  aire 
But  fhe  will  faint ;  and,  if  not  well  prepared 
And  attended,  her  life  is  in  much  danger. 

Tame.     Madam,  we  take  no  pleafure  to  deliuer 
So  ftricl  a  meffage. 

Eliz.     Nor  I  my  lords  to  heare  a  meffage  deliuered 
with  fuch  flridftnefs. 
Well,  muft  I  go  ? 

Shand.     So  fayes  the  Queene. 

Eliz.     Why,  then,  it  mufl  be  fo. 

Tame.     To-morrow  earely  then  you  mufl  prepare. 

Eliz.     Tis  many  a  morrow  fince  my  feeble  legs 
Felt  this  my  bodies  waight — O  I  mall  faint, 
And  if  I  tafte  the  rawneffe  of  the  aire, 
I  am  but  dead ;  indeed,  I  am  but  dead. 
'Tis  late  ;  conduct  thefe  lords  vnto  their  chambers, 
And  cheere  them  well,  for  they  haue  iournied  hard, 
Whilfl  we  prepare  vs  for  our  morrows  iourney. 

Shand.     Madam,  the  Queen  hath  fent  her  letter  for 
you. 

Eliz.     The  Queen  is  kinde,  and  we  will  flriue  with 

death 

To  tender  her  our  life. 
We  afe  her  fubiecl:,  and  obey  her  heft. 
Good  night :  we  wifh  you  what  we  want — good  reft. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Queen  Mary,  Philip,  and  all  the  Nobles  but 
Tame  and  Shandoyfe. 

Queen.     Thus  in  the  face  of  Heauen,  and  broad 
eye 


2O2  If  you  know  not  me, 

Of  all  the  multitude, 

We  giue  a  welcome  to  the  Spanifh  Prince. — 

Thofe  plaufme  fhouts,  which  giue  you  entertaine, 

Eccho  as  much  to  the  Almighties  eares, 

And  there  they  found  with  pleafure,  that  excels 

The  clamorous  trumpets  and  loud  ringing  bells. 

Phil.     Thrice  excellent  and  euer  gratious  PrincerTe, 
Doubly  famous  for  vertue  and  for  beauty, 
We  embrace  your  large-ftretched  honours  with    the 

arms  of  loue. 

Our  royal  marriage,  treated  firft  in  heauen, 
To  be  folemnized  here,  both  by  Gods  voice 
And  by  our  loues  confent,  we  thus  embrace. 
Now  Spain  and  England^  two  populous  kingdomes 
That  haue  a  long  time  been  oppofd 
In  hoflile  emulation,  (hall  be  at  one. 
This  mall  be  Spani/h-England,  ours  EngliJh-Spaine. 

Florifh. 
Queen.      Hark    the    redoubling    ecchoes    of    the 

people, 
How  it  proclaimes  their  loues,  and  welcome  to  this 

union. 

Phil.     Then  here  before  the  pillars  of  the  land, 
We  do  embrace  and  make  a  publike  contract. 
Our  fouls  are  ioyfull :  then,  bright  heauens  fmile, 
Whilft  we  proclaim  our  new-vnited  ftile. 
Queen.     Reade  Suffex. 

Suff.  (reads).  Philip  and  Mary,  by  the  grace  of  God, 
King  and  Queene  of  England,  Spaine,  France,  and  Ire 
land  ;  King  and  Queen  of  Naples,  Cicilia,  Leon,  and 
Aragon  ;  Arch-Duke  and  Ducheffe  of  Auftria,  Bur- 
gondy,  of  Brabant,  Zealand,  and  Holland  :  Prince 
and  Princeffe  of  Sweaue  ;  Count  and  Counteffe  of  Haf- 
burge,  Maiorca,  Sardinia,  of  the  firme  land  and  maine 
ocean-fea  ;  Palatines  of  Hierufalem  and  of  Henolt ; 
Lord  and  Lady  of  Friefland,  and  of  the  Ifles  \  and 
Gouernor  and  Gouerneffe  of  all  Africa  and  Afia. 
Omnes.  Long  Hue  the  King  and  Queene. 

Florifh. 


yoti  know  no  body.  203 

King  and  Qu.     We  thanke  you  all. 

L.  Con/I.     When  pleafe  yonr  highnefs  to  folemnize 

this  your  nuptials  ? 

Queen.     The  twenty-fifth  day  of  this  month,  July. 
Phil.     It  likes   vs  well.     But,   royall   Queen,   we 

want 

One  lady  at  this  high  folemnity  ; 
We  haue  a  filler  called  Elizabeth.  ( 

Whofe  virtues,  and  endowments  of  \  the  mind, 
Haue  filld  the  eares  of  Spaine. 

Winch.      Great  are    the  caufes,  now  too   long  to 

fay, 
Why  fhee  my  foueraign,  mould  be  kept  away. 

Conft.     The  Lords  of  Tame  and  Shandoyfe  are  re- 
turn'd. 

Enter  Tame  and  Shandoyfe,  and  Gage. 

Queen.     How  fares  our  fitter  ?     Is  me  come  along  ? 

Tame.     We  found  the  Princeffe  ficke  and  in  great 

danger ; 

Yet  did  we  vrge  our  ftric~t  commiffion  : 
She  much  entreated  that  me  might  be  fpar'd 
Vntill  her  health  and  ftrength  might  be  rettor'd. 

Shand.     Two  of  your  highnes   dodlors  we   then 

call'd, 

And  charged  them,  as  they  would  anfwer  it, 
To  tell  the  truth,  if  that  our  iourneys  toile 
Might  be  no  preiudice  vnto  her  life, 
Or  if  we  might  with  fafety  bring  her  thence. 
They  anfwered  that  we  might.     We  did  fo. 
Here  fhe  is,  to  doe  her  duty  to  your  maiefty. 

Queen.     Let   her    attend :     we  will  find    time   to 
heare  her. 

Phil.     But,  royall  Queen,  yet,  for  her  vertues  fake, 
Deeme  her  offences,  if  me  haue  offended, 
With  all  the  lenity  a  fitter  can. 

Queen.      My   Lord   of    Winchejler>   my   Lord    of 
Suffex, 


204  If  you  know  not  me, 

Lord  Howard,  Tame,  and  Shandoyfe, 
Take  you  commiffion  to  examine  her 
Of  all  fuppofed  crimes. — So  to  our  nuptials. 

Phil.     What  feftiuall  more  royall  hath  been  feen, 
Then    twixt    Spains    Prince,    and    England*    royall 
Queen  ?  Exeunt. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  her  Gentlewoman,  and  three  houJJiold 
Seruants. 

Eliz.     Is  not  my  gentleman-vfher  yet  returned  1 

Gentlew.     Madam,  not  yet. 

Eliz.     O,  God  !  my  fear  hath  been 
Good  phyficke  ;  but  the  Queens  difpleafure,  that 
Hath  cured  my  bodies  imperfection, 
Hath  made  me  heart  fick,  brain  fick,  and  fick  euen 

to  death. 
What  are  you  ? 

i  Seru.      Your  houfhold  officers  and  humble  fer- 

uants, 

Who,  now  your  houfe,  fair  Princefs,  is  diffolued, 
And  quite  broke  vp,  come  to  attend  your  Grace. 

Eliz.     We  thanke  you,  and  are  more  indebted  for 

your  loues 

Then  we  haue  power  or  vertue  to  requite. 
Alas  !  I  am  all  the  Queens,  yet  nothing  of  myfelfe  ; 
But  God  and  innocence, 
Be  you  my  patrons,  and  defend  my  caufe. 
Why  weepe  you,  gentlemen  ? 

Cook.     Not  for  ourfelues  :  men  are  not  made  to 

weep 

At  their  owne  fortunes.     Our  eyes  are  made  of  fire ; 
And  to  extract  water  from  fire  is  hard. 
Nothing  but  fuch  a  Princeffe  griefe  as  yours, 
So   good    a    lady,   and   fo   beautiful,  fo   abfolute   a 

miftrifs, 

And  perfect,  as  you  euer  haue  been, 
Haue  power  to  doe't :  your  forrow  makes  vs  fad. 

Eliz.     My  innocence  yet  makes  my  heart  as  light 


you  know  no  body.  205 

As  my  front's  heauy.     All  that  Heauen  fends  is  wel 
come.  .   . 
Gentlemen,  diuide  thefe  few  crownes  amongft  you  : 
I  am  now  a  prifoner,  and  mall  want  nothing. 
I  haue  fome  friends  about  her  Maiefly 
That  are  prouiding  for  me  all  things,  all  things  ; 
I,  euen  my  graue  ;  and  being  poffefl  of  that, 
I  (hall  need  nothing.     Weepe  not,  I  pray ; 
Rather,  you  mould  reioice.     If  I  mifcarry 
In  this  enterprife,  and  you  aske  why, 
A  Virgin  and  a  Martyr  both  I  die. 

Enter  Gage. 

Gage.     He  that  firft  gaue  you  life,  protect  that  life 
From  thofe  that  wifh  your  death. 

Eliz.     Whats  my  offence  1  who  be  my  accufers  ? 

Gage,     Madam,  that  the  Queene   and    Winchester 
beft  know. 

Eliz.     What  fays  the  Queen  vnto  my  late  petition  1 

Gage.     You  are  denide  that  grace  : 
Her  maiefly  will  not  admit  you  conference. 
Sir  William  Stntlow,  vrging  that  motion, 
Was  firft  committed,  fince  fent  to  the  Tower. 
Madam,  in  brief,  your  foes  are  the  Queens  friends, 
Your  friends  her  foes. 
Six  of  the  Councel  are  this  day  appointed 
To  examine  you  of  certain  articles. 

Eliz.     They  mall  be  welcome.     My  God,  in  whom 

in  whom  I  truft, 
Will  help,  deliver,  faue,  defend  the  iuft. 

Enter  Winchefter,  Suffex,  Howard,  Tame,  Shandoyfe, 
and  Conftable. 

Sufs.     All  forbeare  this  place,  vnleffe  the  Princefs. 
Winch.     Madam, 
We  from  the  Queen  are  joind  in  full  commiffion. 

They  fa  :  JJie  kneeles. 


2O6 


If  you  know  not  me. 


Sufs.     By  your  fauour,  good  my  lord, 
Ere  you  proceed. — Madam,  although  this  place 
Doth  tye  you  to  this  reuerence,  it  becomes  not, 
You  being  a  Princefs,  to  deieci  your  knee. — 
A  chair  there  ! 

Eliz.     My  duty  with  my  fortunes  doe  agree, 
And  to  the  Queene  in  you  I  bend  my  knee. 

Sufs.     You  mall  not  kneele  where  Suffex  fits  in 

place. — 
The  chamber-keeper,  a  chaire  there,  for  her  Grace  ! 

Winch.     Madam,  perhaps  you  cenfure  hardly 
That  was  enforced  in  this  commiffion. 

Eliz.     Know  you  your  own  guilt,  my  good  Lord 

Chancellor, 

That  you  accufe  yourfelfe  ?     I  thinke  not  fo  : 
I  am  of  this  mind — no  man  is  my  foe. 

Winch.     Madam, 
I  would  you  would  fubmit  vnto  her  highnes. 

Eliz.     Submit,  my  Lord  of  Winchefter  !     Tis  fit 
That  none  but  bafe  offenders  mould  fubmit. 
No,  no,  my  lord  :  I  eafily  fpie  your  drift : 
Hauing  nothing  whereon  you  can  accufe  me, 
Do  feek  to  haue  myfelfe  myfelfe  betray ; 
So  by  myfelfe  mine  owne  blood  mould  be  fpilt. 
Confeffe  fubmiffion,  I  confelfe  a  guilt. 

Tame.     What  anfwer  you  to  Wyats  late  rebellion  ? 
Madam,  tis  thought  that  you  did  let  them  on. 

Eliz.     Who  ill  will  fay  fo  1     Men  may  much  fuf- 

pea, 

But  yet,  my  lord,  none  can  my  life  detect. 
I  a  confederate  with  thofe  Kentilh  rebels  ! 
If  I  ere  faw,  or  lent  to  them,  let  the  Queen  take  my 

head. 

Hath  not  proud  Wiat  fuffered  for  his  offence  ? 
And   in   the   purging   both  of   foul   and    body    for 

Heauen, 
Did  Wiat  then  accufe  Elizabeth  ? 

Sufs.     Madam,  he  did  not.' 

Eliz.     My  reuerent  lord,  I  know  it. 


you  know  no  body.  207 

How.     Madam  he  would  not. 
Eliz.     Oh  my  good  lord  he  could  not. 
Sufs.     The  fame  day 

Frogmorton  was  arraigned  in  the  Guildhall, 
It  was  impofd  on  him,  whether  this  Princefs 
Had  a  hand  with  him,  or  no  :  he  did  deny  it 
Cleared  her  fore  his  death,  yet  accufed  others. 

Eliz.     My  God  be  praifed  ! 
This  is  newes  but  of  a  minute  old. 

Shand.     What  anfwer  you  to  Sir  Peter  Carew,  in 

the  Weft— 
The  Weftern  rebels  r{ 

Eliz.     Aske  the  vnborn  infant :  fee  what  that  will 

anfwer ; 

For  that  and  I  are  both  alike  in  guilt. 
Let  not  by  rigor  innocent  blood  be  fpilt. 

Winch.     Come,  madam  ;    anfwer  briefly  to   thefe 

treafons. 

Eliz.     Treafon,  Lords  !     If  it  be  treafon 
To  be  the  daughter  to  th'  eight  Henry, 
Siiler  to  Edward,  and  the  next  of  blood 
"Vnto  my  gracious  Soueraign,  the  now  Queene, 
I  am  a  traitor :  if  not,  I  fpit  at  treafon. 
In  Henries  reign,  this  law  could  not  haue  flood. 
Oh,  God  chat  we  mould  fuffer  for  our  blood. 

C&nft.     Madam, 

The  Queene  mufl  heare  you  fing  another  fong, 
Before  you  part  with  vs. 

Eliz.     My  God  doth  know, 
I  can  no  note  but  truth ;  that  with  heauens  King 
One  day  in  quires  of  angels  I  (hall  fmg. 

Winch.     Then,  madam,  you  will  not  fubmit  1 
Eliz.     My  life  I  will,  but  not  as  guilty. 
My  lords,  let  pale  offenders  pardon  craue  : 
If  we  offend,  laws  rigor  let  vs  haue. 

Winch.   You  are  flubborne. — Come,  lets  certify  the 

Queene. 
Tame.     Roome  for  the  lords,  there  I 

Exeunt  Councel. 


208  If  you  know  not  me, 

Eliz.     Thou  Power  Eternal,  Innocents  iuft  guide, 
That  fway'fi  the  fcepter  of  all  monarchies, 
Prote6l  the  guiltleffe  from  thefe  rauening  jawes, 
That  hydeous  death  prefent  by  tyrants  laws  : 
And  as  my  heart  is  knowne  to  thee  mofl  pure, 
Grant  me  releafe,  or  patience  to  endure. 

Enter  Gage  and  Seruants. 

Gage.     Madam,  we,  your  poor  humble  feruants, 
Made  bold  to  prefs  into  your  Graces  prefence, 
To  know  how  your  caufe  goes. 

Eliz.     Well,  well ;  I  thank  my  God,  well. 
How  can  a  caufe  go  ill  with  innocents  1 
For  they  to  whom  wrongs  in  this  world  are  done, 
Shall  be  rewarded  in  the  world  to  come. 

Enter  the  fix  Councillors. 

Winch.     It  is  the  pleafure  of  her  maiefty, 
That  you  be  ftraight  committed  to  the  Tower. 
Eliz.     The  Tower  !  for  what  ? 
Winch.     Moreover,  all  your  houfehold  feruants 
We  haue  difcharged,   except   this   gentleman,   your 

vfher, 

And  this  gentlewoman  :    thus  did  the  Queen  com 
mand. 

And  for  your  guard,  an   hundred  Northern   white- 
cotes 

Are  appointed  to  conduct  you  thither. 
To-night,  vnto  your  chamber  :  to-morrow  earely 
Prepare  you  for  the  Tower. 
Your  barge  flands  ready  to  conduct  you  thither. 

She  kneeles. 

Eliz.     Oh,  God,  my  heart  !     A   prifoner  in   the 

Tower  1 

Speak  to  the  Queene,  my  lords,  that  fome  other  place 
May  lodge  her  fitter  ;  thats  too  vile  too  bafe. 


you  know  no  body.  209 

Sufs.    Come,  my  lords,  lets  all  ioin  in  one  petition 

to  the  Queen, 
That  me  may  not  be  lodged  within  the  Tower. 

Winch.     My  lord,  you  know  it  is  in  vain ; 
For  the  Queens  fentence  is  definitiue, 
And  we  muft  fee't  performed. 

Eliz.      Then,   to   our  chamber,  comfortlefle  and 

fad: 

To-morrow  to  the  Tower — that  fatall  place, 
\Vhere  I  (hall  nere  behold  the  funnes  bright  face. 
Sufs.     Now,  God  forbid !   a  better  hap   Heauen 

fend. 
Thus  men  may  mourn  for  what  they  cannot  mend. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  three  white-cote  Souldiers>  with  ajacke  of  beer e. 

1.  Come,  my  maflers,   you  know  your  charge. 
Tis   now  about    eleuen :   here   we   muft   watch    till 
morning,    and    then    carry    the    Princeffe    to    the 
Tower, 

2.  How  mail  we  fpend  the  time  till  morning  ] 

3.  Mafs,  wele  drink,  and  talke  of  our  friends. 

2.  1  but,  my  friend,  do  not  talk  of  State  matters. 
i.     Not  I :  He  not  meddle  with  the  State.     I  hope 

this  a  man  may  fay,  without  offence — prethee  drink 
to  me. 

3.  With  all  my  heart,  ifaith :    this  a  majn  might 
lawfully  fpeak.     But  now,  faith,  what  waft  about  to 
fay? 

1.  Mass,   I  fay  this — that  the  Lady  Elizabeth  is 
both  a  lady  and  Elizabeth-,  and  if  I  mould  fay  fhe 
were  a  vertuous    princefs,  were    there   any  harm  in 
that? 

2.  No,  by  my  troth,  theres  no  harm  in  that.     But 
beware  of  talking  of  the  Princefs.     Lets  meddle  with 
our  kindred  ;  there  we  may  be  bold. 

i.     Well,  firs,  I  haue  two  fifters,  and  the  one  loues 
the  other,  and  would  not  fend  her  to  prifon  for  a  mil- 
i  p 


2 1  o  If  you  know  not  me, 

lion.  Is  there  any  harm  in  this  ?  He  keepe  myfelfe 
within  compaffe,  I  warrant  you  ;  for  I  do  not  talke  of 
the  Queene ;  I  talk  of  my  fitters.  lie  keepe  myfelfe 
within  my  compafs,  I  warrant  you. 

3.     I  but  fir;  that  word  filler  goes  hardly  down. 

1.  Why,  fir,  I  hope  6a  man  may  be  hold  with  his 
own.     I  learned  that  of  the  Queen.     He  keepe  my- 
lelfe  within  compaffe,  I  warrant  you. 

2.  I  but  fir,  why  is  the  Princefs  committed  ? 

1.  It  may  be,  me  doth  not  know  herfelf.     It  may 
be,  the  Queene  knowes  not  the  caufe.    It  may  be,  my 
Lord  of  Winchejler  doth  not  know.     It  may  be  fo  : 
nothing  is  impoffible.     It  may  be,  theres  knauery  in 
monkery  :   theres  nothing  unpoffible.     Is  there  any 
harm  in  that? 

2.  Shoemaker,   you  goe    a  little    beyond   your 
laft. 

1.  Why  ?      In  faying  nothing's  unpoffible  ?      He 
fland  to  it.     For  faying  a  truth's  a  truth  ?     He  proue 
it.-    For  faying  there  may  be  knauery  in  munkery  ? 
He  iuftify  it.     I  do  not  fay  there  is,  but  may  be.     I 
know  what  I  know :    he  knowes  what  he  knowes. 
Marry,  we  know  not  what  euery  man  knowes. 

2.  My  matters,  we  haue  talkd  fo   long,   that   I 
thinke  tis  day. 

1.  I   think  fo   too. — Is  there  any  harme   in   all 
this? 

2.  None  ith  world. 

3.  And   I   thinke  by  this  time  the  Princeffe   is 
ready  to  take  her  barge. 

i.     Come,  then,  lets  go.     Would   all  were  well. 
Is  there  any  harme  in  all  this  ?  but,  alas  ! 
Wifhes  and  teares  haue  both  one  property ; 
They  mew  their  loue  that  want  the  remedy. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Winchetter  and  Beningfield. 

Wtnch.     Did  you  not  mark  what  a  piteous  eye  (he 
caft 


you  know  no  body.  211 

To  the  Queens  window,  as  (he  pafs'd  along  \ 
Fain  fhe  would  haue  ftaid,  but  that  I  caufed 
The  bargemen  to  make  hafte  and  row  away. 

Bening.     The  bargemen  were  too   defperate,   my 

lord, 

In  flaying  till  the  water  was  fo  low ; 
For  then,  you  know,  being  vnderneath  the  Bridge, 
The  barges  flerne  did  flrike  vpon  the  ground, 
And  was  in  danger  to  haue  drovvnd  vs  all. 

Winch.     Well,  fhe  hath  fcapd  that  danger. 
Would  fhe  but  conform  herfelf  in  her  opinion, 
She  onely  might  rely  vpon  my  loue, 
To  win  her  to  the  fauour  of  the  Queene. 

Bening.     But  that  will  neuer  be  :  this  is  my  cen- 

fure  ; 

It  (he  be  guilty  in  the  lead  degree, 
May  all  her  wrongs  furuiue  and  light  on  her  : 
If  other  ways,  that  (he  be  cleared.     Thus,  both  ways 
I  wi(h  her  downe,  or  elfe  her  (late  to  raife. 

Enter  Suffex,  Tame,  Howard,  Shandoyfe,  and  Gage. 

Sufs.     Why  doth  the  Princeffe  keepe  her  barge  fo 

long  ? 

Why  lands  (he  not  ?     Some  one  go  fee  the  caufe. 
Gage.     That  (hall  be  my  charge,  my  lord. 

Exit  Gage. 
Sufs.     Oh,   me   my  lords,  her  (late   is  wondrous 

hard. 

I  haue  feene  the  day  my  hand  Ide  not  haue  lent 
To  bring  my  foueraigns  fifter  to  the  Tower. 
Good  my  lords,  (Iretch  your  commiflion 
To  do  this  Princeffe  but  fome  little  fauour. 

Shand.     My  lord,  my  lord, 
Let  not  the  loue  we  bear  the  Princefle 
Incur  the  Queens  difpleafure  :  tis  no  dallying  with 
matters  of  State.     Who  dares  gainfay  the  Queene  ? 

Sufs.     Marry  a  God,  not  I ;  no,  no,  not  I  : 
Yet  who  (hall  hinder  thefe  mine  eyes  to  forrow 

p  2 


212  If  you  know  not  me, 

For  her  forrow  ?     By  Gods  marry  dear, 
That  the  Queene  could  not,  though  herfelf  were 
My  lords,  my  lords,  if  it  were  held  foule  treafon 
To  grieue  for  her  hard  vfage,  by  my  foule, 
Mine  eyes  would  hardly  proue  me  a  true  fubiec"l. 
Tis  the  Queens  pleafure,  and  we  muft  obey  ; 
But  I  fliall  mourn,  mould  King  and  Queen  fay  nay. 
• 

Enter  Gage. 

Gage.     My  grieued  miftrefs  humbly  thus  intreats, 
For  to  remoue  back  to  the  common  ftaires, 
And  not  to  land  where  traytors  put  to  more. 
Some  difference  me  entreats  your  honours  make 
Twixt  Oyflal  fountains  and  foul,  muddy  fprings  ; 
Twixt  thofe  that  are  condemned  by  the  law, 
And  thofe  whom  treafons  ftaine  did  neuer  blemifh. 
Thus  (he  attends  your  anfwer  ;  and  fits  ftill, 
Whilft  her  wet  eyes  full  many  a  tear  doth  fpill. 

Sufs.     Marry  a  God,  tis  true,  and  tis  no  reafon. 
Lanch  bargeman  ! — 

Good  lady  land  where  traitors  vfe  to  land, 
And  fore  her  guilt  be  proued  1     Gods  marry,  no, 
And  the  Queen  wills  it,  that  it  mould  be  fo. 

Chand.     My  lord,  you  muft  looke  into  our  comrm'f- 

fion. 

No  fauor's  granted,  me  of  force  muft  land  : 
Tis  a  decree  which  we  cannot  withftand. 
So  tell  her,  Mafter  Gage.  Exit  Gage. 

Sufs.     As  good  a  lady  as  ere  England  bred. 
Would  he  that  caufed  this  woe  had  loft  his  head  ! 


Enter  Gage,  Elizabeth,  and  Clarentia,  her  Gentle 
woman. 

Gage.     Madam,  you  haue  ftept  too  mort  into  the 

water. 

Eliz.     No  matter  where  I  tread. 
Would  where  I  fet  my  foot  there  lay  my  head. 


you  know  no  body.  2 1 3 

Land  traitor  like  !     My  foots  wet  in  the  flood ; 
So  fhall  my  heart  ere  long  be  drencht  in  blood. 

Enter  Conjlable. 

Winch.     Here  comes  the  Conftable  of  the  Tower. 
This  is  your  charge. 

Conjl.     And   I  receiue  my  prifoner. — Come,  will 

you  go  ? 

Eliz.     Whither,  my  lord  1  vnto  a  grate  of  iron, 
Where  griefe  and  care    my  poore   heart  (hall  en- 

uiron  ? 
I  am  not  well. 

Sufs.     A  chair  for  the  Princefle  ! 
Conft.     Heres  no  chair  for  prifoners. 
Come,  will  you  fee  your  chamber  ? 

Eliz.     Then,  on  this  ftone,  this  cold  flone,  I  will 

fit. 

I  needs  muft  fay,  you  hardly  me  entreat, 
When  for  a  chair  this  hard  flone  is  my  feat. 

Sufs.     My  lord,   you    deal  too  cruelly  with  the 

Princefs. 

You  knew  her  father ;  flies  no  flranger  to  you. 
-    Tame.     Madam,  it  raines. 

Sufs.     Good  lady,  take  my  cloake. 
Eliz.     No  ;  let  it  alone.     See,  gentlemen, 
The  piteous  heauens  weepe  teares  into  my  bofom. 
On  this  cold  flone  I  fit,  raine  in  my  face  ; 
But  better  here  then  in  a  worfer  place, 
Where  this  bad  man  will  lead  me. 
Clarentia,  reach  my  booke. 

Now,  lead  me  where  you  pleafe,  from  fight  of  day, 
Or  in  a  dungeon  I  fhall  fee  to  pray. 

Exeunt  Elizabeth,  Gage,  Clarentia,  and  Conjlable. 
Sufs.     Nay,  nay,  you  need  not  bolt  and  lock  fo 

faft; 

She  is  no  ftarter. — Honorable  lords, 
Speake  to  the  Queene  me  may  haue  fome  releafe. 


214  If  y oic  know  not  me, 

Enter  Conftable. 

Conjl.     So,  fo.      Let  me  alone,  let  me   alone  to 

coope  her. 

He  vfe  her  fo,  the  Queen  mail  much  commend 
My  diligent  care. 

How.     Where  haue  you  left  the  Princeffe  ? 
Conft.     Where  me  is  fafe  enough,  I  warrant  you. 
I  haue  not  granted  her  the  priuilege 
Of  any  walke  or  garden,  or  to  ope 
Her  windowes  cafements  to  receiue  the  air. 

Sufs.     My  lord,   my  lord,   you   deal   without  re- 

fpeO,    ' 
And  worfe  then  your  commiflion  can  maintain. 

Conft.     My    lord,    I    hope     I    know     my    office 

well, 

And  better  then  yourfelf  within  this  place  : 
Then  teach  not  me  my  duty.     She  mall  be  vfed  fo 

flill; 
The  Queene  commands,  and  He  obey  her  will. 

Sufs.     But  if  this   time   mould  alter,  marke   me 

well, 

Could  this  be  anfwer'd  ?     Could  it  fellow  peers  ? 
I  think  not  fo. 

Conft.     Turn,  turn  !  the  Queen  is  young,  likely  to 

beare 
Of  her  own  body  a  more  royall  heir. 

Enter  Gage. 

Gage.     My  lords,  the  Princeffe  humbly  entreats, 
That  her  owne  feruants  may  beare  vp  her  diet. 
A  company  of  bafe,  vntutord  flaues, 
Whofe  hands  did  neuer  ferue  a  princefs  board, 
Do  take  that  priuiledge. 

Conft.     Twas  my  appointment,  and  it  mail  be  fo. 

Sufs.     Gods  marry,  deare,  but  it  mall  not  be. 
Lord  Howard,  ioine  with  me  :  we'll  to  the  King. 


you  know  no  body.  2 1 5 

Enter  Souldiers,  tuith  diflies. 

Gage.     Stay,  good  my  lords  :  for  inflance,  fee,  they 

come. 
If  this  be  feemly,  let  your  honours  iudge. 

Stifs.     Come,  come,  my  lords  :  why  doe  you  ftay 

fo  long  ? 
The  Queens  high  fauour  mail  amend  this  wrong. 

Exeunt  omnes,  prater  Gage  6-  Con/lab. 
Conjl.  Now  fir,  what  haue  you  got  by  your  com 
plaining,  you  common  find-fault  What  is  your  Miftris 
ftomacke  fo  queafie  ]  our  honed  Souldiers  mufl  not 
touch  her  meat,  then  let  her  fail ;  I  know  her  flomacke 
will  come  downe  at  laft. 


Enter  Souldiers  with  more  di/hes.    Gage  takes  one  from 
them. 

Gage.     Untutord    flaue,    He    eafe    thee    of    this 

burthen. 

Her  highnefle  fcorns 
To  touch  the  difh  her  feruants  bring  not  vp. 

Conjl.     Prefume    to   touch   a  dim,  He  lodge  thee 

there, 
Where  thou  malt  fee  no  fun,  in  one  whole  yeare. 

Exeunt  Conjlabk  and  Soldiers. 

Gage.     I  would  to  God  you  would  in  any.  place 
Where  I  might  Hue  from  thought  of  her  difgrace ! 
Oh  !  thou  all-feeing  heauens,  with  piteous  eye 
Look  on  the  oppreffions  of  their  cruelty. 
Let  not  thy  truth  by  falmood  be  oppreil, 
But  let  her  vertues  mine,  and  giue  her  reft. 
Confound  the  flights  and  praclife  of  thofe  men, 
Whofe  pride  doe  kick  againfl  the  leat  of  Heauen. 
Oh  !  draw  the  curtains  from  their  filthy  fin, 
And  make  them  loathe  the  hell  which  they  Hue  in. 
Profper  the  Princeffe,  and  her  life  defend ; 
A  glorious  comfort  to  her  troubles  fend. 
If  euer  thou  hadfl  pity,  hear  my  prayer, 
And  giue  releamient  to  a  Princes  care.        Exit  Gage. 


2i 6  Ifyott  know  not  me, 


A    DUMB   SHOW. 

Enter  fix  with  torches.  Tame  and  Chandos,  bare 
headed  ;  Philip  and  Mary  after  them ;  then  Win- 
chefter,  Beningfield,  and  Attendants.  At  the 
other  door,  Suffex  and  Howard.  Suffex  deliuers 
a  petition  to  the  King,  the  King  receiues  it,Jhows  it 
to  the  Queen  ;  Jhe  Jhows  it  to  Winchefter  and  to 
Beningfield ;  they  ftorm  :  the  King  whifpers  to 
Suffex,  and  raifes  him  and  Howard ;  giues  them 
the  petition  :  they  take  their  leaues  and  depart.  The 
King  whifpers  a  little  to  the  Queen.  Exeunt. 

.  Enter  Conftable  and  Gage. 

Gage.     The   Princefs   thus   entreats   you    honord 

lord ; 

She  may  but  walke  in  the  Lieutenants  garden, 
Or  elfe  repofe  herfelfe  in  the  Queens  lodgings. 
My  honourd  lord,  grant  this,  as  you  did  loue 
The  famous  Henry,  her  deceafed  father. 

Conft.     Come,    talke    not    to  me,   for  I    am  re- 

folu'd 

Nor  lodging,  garden,  nor  Lieutenants  walkes, 
Shall  here  be  granted  :  flies  a  prifoner. 

Gage.     My  Lord,  they  fhall. 

Con/1.     How  (hall  they,  knaue  ? 

Gage.     If  the  Queen  pleafe,  they  fhall. 
A  noble  and  right  reuerend  councellor 
Promifd  to  beg  it  of  her  Maiefty ; 
And  if  me  fay  the  word,  my  lord,  me  fhall. 

Conft.     I ;  if  me  fay  the  word,  it  fhall  be  fo. 
My  Lord  of  Winchefter  fpeakes  the  contrary ; 
So  doe  the  clergy :  they  are  honefl  men. 

Gage.     My  honoured  lord,  why  mould  you  take  de 
light 
To  torture  a  poor  lady  innocent  1 


you  know  no  body.  217 

The  Queene  I  know,  when  (he  mall  heare  of  this, 
Will  greatly  difcommend  your  cruelty. 
You  feru'd  her  father,  and  he  lou'd  you  well : 
You  feru'd  her  brother,  and  he  held  you  deare  ; 
And  can  you  hate  the  filler  he  beft  loued  1 
You  ferue  her  fitter ;  fhe  efleemes  you  high, 
And  you  may  liue  to  ferue  her,  ere  you  die. 
And,  therefore,  good  my  lord,  let  this  preuail : 
Only  the  cafements  of  her  windowes  ope, 
Whereby  fhe  may  receiue  frefh  gladfome  air. 

Con/I.     Oh !   you   preach  well  to  deaf  men  :  no, 

not  I. 

So  letters  may  fly  in ;  He  none  of  that 
She  is  my  prifoner ;  and  if  I  durfl, 
But  that  my  warrant  is  not  yet  fo  Ariel, 
Ide  lay  her  in  a  dungeon  where  her  eyes 
Should  not  haue  light  to  read  her  prayer-booke. 
So  would  I  danger  both  her  foul  and  body, 
Caufe  me  an  alien  is  to  vs  Catholikes  : 
Her  bed  mould  be  all  fnakes,  her  reft  defpaire ; 
Torture  mould  make  her  curfe  her  faithleffe  prayer. 

Enter  Suffex,  Howard,  and  Seruants. 

Suff.     My  lord,  it  is  the  pleafure  of  the  Queene, 
The  prifoner  Princeffe  mould  haue  all  the  vfe 
Of  the  Lieutenants  garden,  the  Queens  lodgings, 
And  all  the  liberty  this  place  affords. 

Conft.    What  meanes  her  Grace  by  that  1 

Suff.     You  may  goe  aske  her,  and  you  will,  my  • 

lord. 

Moreouer,  tis  her  highnefs  further  pleafure, 
That  her  fworne  feruants  mail  attend  on  her  : 
Two  gentlemen  of  her  ewry,  two  of  her  pantry, 
Two  of  her  kitchin,  and  two  of  her  wardrobe, 
Befides  this  gentleman  here  Mafter  Gage. 

Conft.     The  next  will  be  her  freedom.     Oh  this 
mads  me. 

How.    Which  way  lies  the  Princeffe  ? 


2 1 8  If  y oil  know  not  me, 

Con/I.     This  way,  my  lord. 
How.     This  will  be  glad  tidings.     Come,  lets  tell 
her  Grace. 

Exeunt  omues,  prater  Conftable  6°  Gage. 
Gage.      Wilt    pleafe    your    honour    let    my    lady 

walke 

In  the  Lieutenants  garden, 
Or  may  but  fee  the  lodgings  of  the  Queen, 
Or  ope  the  cafements  to  receiue  frefh  air  ? 
Shall  me,  my  lord  1     Shall  me  this  freedom  vfe  ? 
She  mall  ;  for  you  can  neither  will  nor  chufe. 
Or  (hall  me  haue  fome  feruants  of  her  own, 
To  attend  on  her  ?     I  pray,  let  it  be  fo  ; 
And    let    your    looke     no     more    poore    prifoners 

daunt, 
I  pray,  deny  not  what  you  needs  muft  grant. 

Exit  Gage. 
Conjl.     This  bafe  groome  flouts  me.     Oh  this  frets 

my  heart : 

Thefe  knaues  will  iet  vpon  their  priuiledge. 
But  yet  He  vex  her :  I  haue  found  the  means. 
He  haue  my  cookes  to  dreffe  my  meate  with  hers, 
And  euery  officer  my  men  mail  match. 
Oh!    that    I    could    but    drain    her    hearts    deare 

blood. 
Oh !  it  would  feede  me,   do  my  foule  much  good. 

Enter  the  Clown  beating  a  Souldier. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Cooke  beating  another  Souldier. 

Conjl.     How  now  !  what  meanes  the  fellow  ? 
Cook.     Audacious  flaue,  prefuming  in  my  place  ! 
Conjl.     Sir  twas  my  pleafure,  and  I  did  command 

it. 
Cook.     The   proudell  he   that    keeps   within    the 

Tower 


you  know  no  body.  2 1 9 

Shall  haue  not  eye  into  my  priuate  office. 

Con/I.     No,  fir  <{    Why,  fay  tis  I. 

Cook.     Be  it  yourfelf,  or  any  other  here, 
He  make  him  fup  the  hotteft  broth  I  haue. 

Conft.     You  will  not. 

Cook.     Zounds  ?  I  will : 
I  haue  been  true  to  her,  and  will  be  dill. 

Exit  Cooke. 

Conft.     Well ;  He  haue  this  amended,  ere't  be  long, 
And  venge  myfelf  on  her  for  all  their  wrong. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  a  Boy  with  a  nofegay. 

Boy.     I  haue  got  another  nofegay  for  my  young 

lady. 

My  lord  faid  I  fhould  be  foundly  whipt, 
If  I  were  feen  to  bring  her  any  more  ; 
But  yet  He  venture  once  again,  ftie's  fo  good. 
Oh  !  here's  her  chamber :  He  call  and  fee  if  (he  be 

ilirring. 
Where  are  you,  lady  1 

Eliz.  Welcome,  fweet  boy :  what  haft  thou  brought 

me  there  1 

Boy.     Madam,  I  haue  brought  you  another  nofe 
gay' 

But  you  mufl  not  let  it  be  feene  ;  for,  if  it  be, 
I   mail  be  foundly  whipt  :    indeed,   la,    indeed,    I 

mail. 

Eliz.     God  a  mercy,  boy !     Heres  to  requite  thy 
loue.  Exit:  Eliz. 

Enter  Conflable,  Suffex,  Howard,  and  Attendants. 

Conft.     Stay  him,  flay  him  1— Oh  haue  I  caught  you, 

.fir? 
Where  haue  you  been  1 

Boy.      To    carry    my    young    lady    fome    more 
flowers. 


22o  If  you  know  not  me, 

How.     Alas,  my  lord  !  a  child,     Pray,  let  him  go. 
Confl.     A  crafty  knaue,  my  lords. — Search  him  for 

letters. 

Sujj.     Letters,  my  lord  !     It  is  impoffible. 
Conjt.     Come,  tell  me  what  letters  thou  carryedft 

her? 
He  giue  thee  figs  and  fugar-plums. 

Boy.    Will  you,   indeed?      Well,   He   take    your 

word, 
For  you  looke  like  an  honefl  man. 

Confl.     Now,    tell    me    what    letters    thou    deli- 

ueredft  ? 

Boy.     Faith,  gaffer,  I  know  no  letters  but  great  A, 
B,  and  C  :  I  am  not  come  to  K  yet. 
Now,  gaffer,  will  you  giue  me  my  fugar-plums  ? 
Conft.     Yes,  marry  will  I, — Take  him  away  : 
Let  him  be  foundly  whipt,  I  charge  you,  firrah. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Gage,  and  Clarentia, 

Eliz.     They  keep  euen  infants  from  vs  :   they  do 

well. 
My  fight  they  haue  too   long  barred,   and  now  my 

fmell. 

This  Tower  hath  made  me  fall  to  hufwifry  : 
I  fpend  my  labours  to  relieue  the  poor. 
Go,  Gage ;  diflribute  thefe  to  thofe  that  need. 

Enter  Winchefler,  Beningfield,  and  Tame. 

Winch.     Madam,   the   Queene,   out   of  her  royal 

bounty, 

Hath  freed  you  from  the  thraldom  of  the  Tower, 
And  now  this  gentleman  muft  be  your  guardian. 

Eliz.     I  thank  her  me  hath  rid  me  of  a  tyrant. 
Is  he  appointed  now  to  be  my  keeper  ? 
What  is  he,  lords  ? 

Tame.    A  gentleman  in  fauqr  with  the  Queene. 


you  know  no  body.  221 

Eliz.     It  feems  fo,  by  his  charge. — But   tell   me, 

Gage, 

Is  yet  the  fcaffold  Handing  on  Tower  Hill, 
Whereon  young  Guilford  and  the  Lady  Jane 
Did  fuffer  death  ? 

Gage.     Vpon  my  life  it  ftands  not. 
Eliz.     Lord  Howard,  what  is  he  ^ 
How.     A  gentleman,  though  of  a  fterne  afpecl ; 
Yet  milde  enough,  I  hope  your  Grace  will  finde. 
Eliz.     Hath   he  not,   think    you,  a    ftretcht  con- 

fcience  ; 
And   if  my  fecret   murder   mould   be   put  into  his 

hands, 

Hath  he  not  heart,  think  you,  to  execute  ? 
How.     Defend   it,    Heauen  ;  and  Gods  almighty 

hand 

Betwixt  your  Grace  and  fuch  intendments  fland. 
Bening.     Come,  madam ;  will  you  go  ? 
Eliz.     With  all  my  heart. — Farewell,  farewell : 
I  am  freed  from  limbo,  to  be  fent  to  hell. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Cook  and  Pantler. 

Cook.    What  ftorme  comes  next  ?  this  hath  difperft 

vs  quite, 

And  fhatterd  vs  to  nothing. 

Though  we  be  denied  the  prefence  of  our  miftre/s> 
Yet  we  will  walke  aloofe,  and  none  controle  vs. 

Pant.     Here  will  fhee  croffe  the  riuer ;  ftand  in  her 

eye, 

That   me  may  take  fome  notice   of  our  neglecled 
duties. 

Enter  three  poor  men. 

i.  Come  :  this  way,  they  fay,  the  fweet  Princefs 
comes.  Let  vs  prefent  her  with  fuch  tokens  of  good 
will  as  we  haue. 


222  If  you  know  not  me, 

2.  They  fay  fhe's  fuch  a  vertuous  Princefs,  that 
ihe'll  accept  of  a  cup  of  cold  water ;  and  I  haue  euen 
a  nofegay  for  her  Grace.  Here  fhee  comes. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Beningfield,  Gage,  and  Tame. 

Omnes.     The  Lord  preferue  thy  fweet  Grace. 

Eliz.     What  are  thefe  ? 

Gage.     The   townefmen   of  the   country,   gather'd 

here 
To  greet  your  Grace,  hearing  you  paft  this  way. 

Eliz.     Giue  them  this  gold,  and  thanke  them  for 
their  loues. 

Bening.  What  traitor  knaues  are  gather'd  here,  to 
make  a  tumult  ? 

Omnes.     Now,  the  Lord  blefs  thy  fweet  Grace  ! 

Bening.  If  they  perfift,  I  charge  you,  foldiers,  flop 
their  mouths. 

Eliz.     It  mall  not  need. 
The  poor  are  louing,  but  the  rich  defpife ; 
And  though  you  curb  their  tongues,  fpare  them  their 

eyes. 

Your  loue  my  fmart  allayes  not,  but  prolongs  : 
Pray  for  me  in  your  hearts,  not  with  your  tongues. 
See,  fee,  my  lord  :  looke,  I  haue  ftilld  them  all. 
Not  one  amongfl  them  but  debates  my  fall. 

Tame.     Alas,  Sir  Harry,  thefe  are  honeft  country 
men, 
That  much  reioice  to  fee  the  Princefs  well. 

Bening.     My  lord,  my  lord,  my  charge  is  great. 

Tame.     And  mine  as  great  as  yours.  Bells. 

Bening.      Hark,    hark,   my   lord,  what    bells   are 
thefe  ? 

Gage.     The  townfmen  of  this  village, 
Hearing  her  highnefs  pafs  this  way, 
Salutes  her  coming  with  this  peal  of  bells. 

Bening.     Traitors  and  knaues  !     Ring  bells, 
When  the  Queens  enemy  paffeth  through  the  town  1 
Go,  fet  the  knaues  by  the  heels  :  make  their  pates 


you  know  no  body.  223 

Ring  noon,  I  charge  thee,  Barwicke.     Exit  Barwicke. 
Eliz.     Alas,   poor  men !    help    them,    thou    God 

aboue  ! 

Thus  men  are  forc'd  to  fuffer  for  my  loue. 
What  faid  my  feruants — thofe  that  flood  aloof? 

Gage.     They  deeply  coniur'd  me,  out  of  their  loues, 
To  know  how  your  cafe  goes,  which  thefe  poor  people 

fecond. 

Eliz.     Say  to  them,  tanquam  Ovis. 
Bening.     Come,  come  away.     This   lingering  will 

benight  vs. 
Tame.     Madam,  this  night  your  lodging's  at  my 

houfe  : 

No  prifoner  are  you,  madam,  for  this  night. 
Bening.     How  ?  no  prifoner  t\ 
Tame.     No  ;  no  prifoner.     What  I  intend  to  do, 
He  anfwer. — Madam,  will 't  pleafe  you  go  1 

Exit  Eliz.,  Beningfield,  and  Tame. 
Cook.     Now,  gentle  matter  vfher,  what  fayes  my 
lady? 

Gage.     This  did  (he  bid  me  fay — tanquam  Ovis. 
Farewell,  I  muft  away.  Exit  Gage. 

1.  Tanqus    our is  1      Pray,    what's    tanqus    our  is , 
neighbour  1 

2.  If  the  pried  were    here,    he'd    fmell    it  out 
ftraight. 

Cook.     Myfelf  haue  been  a  fcholar,  and  I  under- 

ftand  what  tanqtiam  Ovis  meanes. 
We  fent  to  know  how  her  Grace  did  fare  : 
She  tanquam  ovis  faid  :  even  like  a  (heep 
That's  to  the  (laughter  led. 

1 .  Tanquam  ovrus  :  that  I  mould  Hue  to  fee  tan- 
quam  ovris. 

2.  I  (hall  ne'er  loue  tanquam  ovris  again,  for  this 
tricke.  Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Beningfield  and  Barwick,  his  man. 
Bening.    Barwick,  is  this  the  chair  of  (late  I 


224  If  you  know  not  me, 

Barw.     I,  fir ;  this  is  it. 

Bening.     Take  it  downe,  and  pull  off  my  boots. 

Barw.     Come  on,  Sir. 

Enter  Clowne. 

Clown.  O  monftrous,  what  a  fawcy  companion's 
this  ?  to  pull  off  his  boots  in  the  chair  of  flate.  He  fit 
you  a  pennyworth  for  it. 

Bening.     Well  faid,  Barwicke.     Pull,  knaue. 

Barw.     Ah,  ha,  fir  ! 

Bening.     Well  faid  :  now  it  comes. 

The  Clowne  pulls  the  chair  from  vnder  him. 
Clown.     Gods  pity,  I  thinke  you  are  downe.     Cry 
you  mercy. 

Bening.      What    faucy    arrant    knaue    art    thou  ? 

How? 

Clown.  Not  fo  faucy  an  arran^  naue  as  your  wor- 
fhip  takes  me  to  be. 

Bening.     Villain  !  thou  hafl  broke  my  crooper. 
Clown.     I    am  forry  tis  no   worfe  for  your  wor- 

Ihip. 
Bening.     Knaue  !  dofl  flout  me  ? 

Exeunt.     He  beats  him  out. 

Enter  the  Englijhman  and  Spaniard. 

Spa.     The  wall,  the  wajl. 

Eng.  Sblood.  Spaniard,  you  get  no  wall  here, 
vnlefs  you  would  haue  your  head  and  the  wall  knockt 
together. 

Spa.  Signor  Cavalero  Danglatero,  I  mufl  haue  the 
wall. 

Eng.  I  doe  protefl,  hadfl  thou  not  enforft  it, 
I  had  not  regarded  it;  but,  fince  you  will  needs 
haue  the  wall,  He  take  the  pains  to  thruft  you  into 
the  kennel.  • 

Sp.  Oh,  bafe  Cavalero,  my  fword  and  poynard, 
well-tried  in  Toledo,  fhall  giue  thee  the  imbrocado. 


you  know  no  body.  225 

Eng.     Marry,  and  welcome,  fir.     Come  on. 

They  fight :  he  hurts  the  Spaniard. 
Spa.     Holo,  holo  !    thou  haft  giuen  me  the  can- 
viffado. 

Eng.     Come,  fir  ;  will  you  any  more  ? 
Spa.     Signer  Cavalero,  look  behind  thee.     A  blade 
of  Toledo  is  drawne  againft  thee. 

He  lookes  backe  :  he  kills  him. 


Enter  Philip,   Howard,   Suflex,    Con/table  and 
Grefham. 

Phil.      Hang    that    ignoble    groome  ! — Had    we 

not 

Beheld  thy  cowardice,  we  mould  haue  fworn 
Such  bafenefs  had  not  followed  vs, 

Spa.     Oh,  voftro  -vandado,  grand  Emperato. 

How.     Pardon  I    n,  my  lord. 

Phil.     Are  you  refpecllefs  of  our  honor,  lords, 
That  you  would  haue  vs  bofom  cowardife  ? 
I  do  protefl,  the  great  Turkes  empire 
Shall  not  redeem  e  thee  from  a  felons  death. 
What  place  is  this,  my  lords  ? 

Sujf.     Charing  Crofs,  my  liege. 

Phil.     Then,  by  this  crofs,  where  thou  haft  done 

this  murder, 
Thou  (halt  be  hang'd. — So,  lords,  away  with  him. 

Exit  Spaniard. 

Suff.    Your  grace  may  purchafe  glory  from  aboue, 
And  entire  loue  from  all  your  peoples  hearts, 
To  make  atonement  'twixt  the  woful  Princefle 
And  our  dread  foueraign,  your  moil  virtuous  Queene. 

How.     It  were  a  deed  worthy  of  memory. 

Con/I.     My  lord,   flies   factious :    rather    could    I 

wilh 

She  were  married  to  fome  priuate  gentleman, 
And  with  her  dower  conuaid  out  of  the  land, 
Then  here  to  ftay,  and  be  a  mutiner. 
So  may  your  higfmefle  ftate  be  more  fecure ; 
i  Q 


226  If  you  know  not  me, 

For  whilft  me  Hues,  warres  and  commotions, 
Foul  infurreclions,  will  be  fet  abroch. 
I  thinke  twere  not  amiffe  to  take  her  head  : 
This  land  would  be  in  quiet,  were  me  dead. 

Sufs.     O,  my  lord,  you  fpeake  not  charitably. 

Phil.     Nor  will  we,  lords,  embrace   his  heedleffe 

counfell. 

I  do  proteft,  as  I  am  King  of  Spain^ 
My  utmoft  power  He  ftretch  to  make  them  friends. 
Come,  lords,  lets  in  :  my  loue  and  wit  He  try, 
To  end  this  jarre ;  the  Queene  mail  not  deny. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Beningfield,  Clarentia,  Tame,  Gage, 
and  Barwicke. 

Eliz.     What  fearful  terror  doth  affaile  my  heart  ? 
Good  Gage,  come  hither,  and  refolue  me  true 
In  thy  opinion,  (hall  I  outliue  this  night  ? 
I  preethee,  fpeake. 

Gage.     Outliue  this  night !     I  pray  Madam,  why  ? 

Eliz.     Then,  to  be  plaine,  this  night  I  looke  to 
die. 

Gage.     O,  madam,  you  were  borne  to  better  for 
tunes, 

That  God  that  made  you  will  protect  you  ftill 
From  all  your  enemies  that  wifh  you  ill. 

Eliz.     My  heart  is  fearful. 

Gage.     Oh,  my  honord  lord, 
As  euer  you  were  noble  in  your  thoughts, 
Speake,  mail  my  lady  outliue  this  night,  or  no  ? 

Tame.     You  much  amaze  me,  fir  :  elfe  heauen  fore- 
fend. 

Gage.     For  if  we  fhould  imagine  any  plot 
Pretending  to  the  hurt  of  our  deare  miflrifs, 
I  and  my  fellowes,  though  farre  vnable  are 
To  fland  againfl  your  power,  will  die  together. 

Tame.     And  I  with  you  would  fpend  my  deareft 
blood 


you  know  no  body.  227 

To  doe  that  virtuous  lady  any  good. 

Sir  Harry,  now  my  charge  I  mutt  refigne  : 

The  lady's  wholly  in  your  cuftody ; 

Yet  vfe  her  kindly,  as  me  well  deferues, 

And  fo  I  take  my  leaue. — Madam  adieu.  Exit  Tame. 

Eliz.     My  honord  lord,  farewell :  vnwilling  I 
With  griefe  and  woe  mutt  continue. 
Help  me  to  fome  inke  and  paper,  good  Sir  Harry. 

Bening.     What  to  doe,  madam  1 

Eliz.     To  write  a  letter  to  the  Queene,  my  fitter. 

Bening.     I  find  not  that  in  my  Commifiion. 

Eliz.     Good  iailor,  vrge  not  thy  Commiffion. 

Bening.     No  iailor,  but  your  guardian,  madam. 

Eliz.     Then,  reach  me  pen  and  inke. 

Bening.     Madam,    I    dare  not :    my    Commiffion 
ferues  not. 

Eliz.     Thus  haue  you  driuen  me  off,  from  time  to 

time, 

Still  vrging  me  with  your  Commifiion. 
Good  iailor,  be  not  fo  feuere. 

Bening.  Good  madam,  I  entreat  you,  lofe  that 
name  of  iailor  ;  twill  be  a  by-word  to  me  and  my  pof- 
terity. 

Eliz.     As  often  as  you  name  your  Commiffion, 
So  often  will  I  call  you  iailor. 

Bening.     Say    I   fhould  reach  you  pen,  ink,  and 

paper, 
Who  ift  dare  beare  a  letter  fent  from  you  ? 

Eliz.     I  do  not  keepe  a  feruant  fo  difhonett 
\  That  would  deny  me  that. 

Bening.     Whoeuer  dares,  none  mall. 

Gage.     Madam,  impofe  the  letter  to  my  truft. 
^Vere  I  to  beare  it  through  a  field  of  pikes, 
aid  in  my  way  ten  thoufand  arm'd  men  ambufht, 

le  make  my  paffage  through  the  midft  of  them, 

id  perforce  beare  it  to  the  Queene  your  fitter. 

Bcnmg.     Body  of  me,  what  a  bold  knaue's  this. 

\Eliz.     Gage,  leaue  me  to  myfelfe.— 

C3V  i«        •  T\  ,1          j  *J9/1  1 


th<u  euer    ung  Power>  that  guid'ft  a11  nearts» 
\ 
\ 


22' 


228  If  you  know  not  me, 

Giue  to  my  pen  a  true  perfwafiue  flyle, 
That  it  may  moue  my  impatient  lifters  eares, 
And  vrge  her  to  compaffionate  my  woe.       Jhe  writes. 
Beningfield  takes  a  book,  and  lookes  into  it. 

Bening.     What  has  me  written  here  1 
Much  fufpecled  by  me,  nothing  proued  can  be, 

he  reads. 

Finis,  quoth  Elizabeth,  the  prifoner. 
Pray  God  it  proue  fo.     Soft  what  booke's  this  ? 
Marry  a  God  !  whats  here  an  Englifh  Bible  ? 
Sanfla  Maria,  pardon  this  prophanation  of  my  heart ! 
Water,  Barwicke !  water  !    lie  meddle  with't  no  more. 

Eliz.     My  heart  is  heauy,  and  my  eye  doth  clofe. 
I  am  weary  of  writing — fleepy  on  the  fudden. 
Clarentia,  leaue  me,  and  command  fome  mufic 
In  the  withdrawing  chamber.  Jhefleeps. 

Bening.     Your  letter  mall  be  forthcoming,  lady. 
I  will  perufe  it,  ere  it  fcape  me  now. 

Exit  Beningfield. 

A   DUMB   SHOW. 

Enter  Winchefter,  Conftable,  Barwick,  and  Fryers  :  At 
the  other  door,  two  Angels.  The  Fryers  ftep  to  her, 
offering  to  kill  her :  the  Angels  driue  them  back. 
Exeunt.  The  Angel  opens  the  Bible,  and  puts  it  in 
her  hand  as  Jhe  fleeps.  Exeunt  Angels.  She 
wakes. 

Eliz.     O,  God  how  pleafant  was  this  fleepe  to  me 
Clarentia,  fawft  thou  nothing  ? 

Clar.     Madam,  not  I. 
I  ne'er  flept  foundlier  for  the  time. 

Eliz,     Nor  heardft  thou  nothing  ? 

Clar.     Neither,  madam. 

Eliz.     Didft   thou   not  put  this   booke    into 
hand? 

Clar.     Madam  not  I. 

Eliz.     Then,  twas  by  infpiration. — Heauen,  I 


you  know  no  body.  229 

With  his  eternal  hand,  will  guide  the  iuft. 

What  chapter's  this  ?       Whofo  putteth  his  truft  in  the 

Lord,  Jhall  not  be  confounded. 
My  Sauiour,  thankes  ;  on  thee  my  hope  I  build  : 
Thou  lou'fl  poor  innocents,  and  art  their  fhield. 

Enter  Beningfield  and  Gage. 

Bening.     Here   haue   you  writ  a   long  excufe,   it 

feemes, 
But  no  fubmiffion  to  the  Queene,  your  filler. 

Eliz.     Should  they  fubmit  that  neuer  wrought  of 
fence  ? 

The  law  will  alwayes  quit  wrong'd  innocence. — 
Gage,  take  my  letter  :  to  the  lords  commend 
My  humble  duty. 

Gage.     Madam,  I  fly 
To  giue  this  letter  to  her  Maiefly. 
Hoping,  when  I  return, 
To  giue  you  comfort  that  now  fadly  mourn. 

Exeunt  cmnes,  prczter  Bening. 

Bening.     I,  do,  write  and  fend.     He  croffe  you  flill. 
She  mail  not  fpeake  to  any  man  aliue, 
But  He  orehear  her :  no  letter,  nor  no  token 
Shall  euer  haue  acceffe  vnto  her  hands, 
But  firft  I  fee  it. 

So,  like  a  fubiec~l  to  my  Soueraigns  flate, 
I  will  purfue  her  with  my  deadly  hate. 

Enter  Clown. 

Clown.     O,  Sir  Harry!   you  looke  well  to   your 

office : 
Yonders  one  in  the  garden  with  the  Princeffe. 

Bening.     How,   knaue  !    with   the   Princeffe  ?    me 

parted  euen  now. 

Clown.  I  fir,  that's  all  one  ;  but  fhee  no  fooner 
came  into  the  Garden,  but  he  leapt  ore  the  wall ;  and 
there  they  are  together  bufy  in  talke  fir. 


2  3°  If  you  know  not  me, 

Betting.     Here's  for  thy  paines  :  thou  art  an  honed 

fellow. 
Go,  take  a  guard,  and  apprehend  them  draight. 

Ex.  Clown. 

Bring  them  before  me. — O  this  was  well  found  out. 
Now  will  the  Queene  commend  my  diligent  care, 
And  praife  me  for  my  feruice  to  her  Grace. 
Ha  1  traitors  fwarm  fo  neare  about  my  houfe  ? 
Tis  time  to  look  into't. — Oh,  well  faid,  Barwicke. 
Where's  the  prifoner  ? 

Enter  Clown,  Barwick,  and  Soldiers,  leading  a  goat : 
his  f word  drawne. 

Clown.     Here  he  is,  in  a  dring,  my  lord. 

Bening.     Lord  blefs  vs  !     Knaue,  what  had  thou 
there  ? 

Clown.  This  is  he  I  told  you  was  bufy  in  talk  with 
the  PrincerTe.  What  a  did  there,  you  mud  get  out  of 
him  by  examination. 

Bening.     Why,  knaue,  this  is  a  bead. 

Clown:  So  may  your  worfhip  be,  for  any  thing  that 
I  know. 

Bening.     What  art  thou,  knaue  ? 

Clown.  If  your  wormip  does  not  remember  me,  I 
hope  your  worfhips  crooper  doth.  But  if  you  haue 
any  thing  to  fay  to  this  honed  fellow,  who  for  his 
gray  head  and  reuerent  beard  is  fo  like,  he  may  be 
akinne  to  you. 

Bening.      Akin  to   me?      Knaue,   I'll  haue   thee 
whipt 

Clown.  Then,  your  worfhip  will  cry  quittance  with 
my  poderiors,  for  mifufmg  of  yours. 

Bening.     Nay,  but  dod  thou  flout  me  dill  ? 

He  beats  him.     Exeunt. 

Zfafcr.Winchefter,  Grefham  with  paper ;  Conjlable 
with  a  Purfeuant. 

GreJJi.     I  pray  your  honour  to  regard  my  hade. 


you  know  no  body.  231 

Winch.     I  know  your  bufmeffe,   and  your  hafle 

(hall  flay. 
As  you  were  fpeaking,  my  Lord  Conflable. 

Cmijl.     When  as  the  King  fhall  come  to  feale  thefe 

writs. 
Grefli,     My  lord,  you  know  his  Highnes  treafure 

Hays, 

And  cannot  be  tranfported  thefe  three  moneths, 
Vnleffe  that  now  your  honour  feal  my  warrant. 

Winch*     Fellow,  what  then  I — This  warrant,  that 

concernes 

The  Princefs  death,  muffle  amongft  the  refl : 
He'll  ne'er  perufe'L 

Grejh.     How !    the    Princefs    death  ?      Thankes, 

Heauen,  by  whom 

I  am  made  a  willing  inflrument  her  life  to  faue, 
That  may  Hue  crownd  when  thou  art  in  thy  graue, 

Exit  Grefham. 
Which.      Stand   ready,  Purfevant,   that   when   tis 

fignd, 
Thou  niaiii  be  gone,  and  gallop  with  the  winde. 

Enter  Philip,  Suffex,  and  Gage. 

Phil,      Our  Chancellor,  lords.     This  is  our  fealing 

day: 
This  our  States  bufmefs. — Is  our  fignet  there  1 

Enter  Howard  and  Grefham,  as  lie  is  fealing. 

How.     Stay  your  imperial  hand  !     Let  not  your  feal 
Imprint  deaths  imprefs  in  your  fitters  heart 

Phil.     Our    fiflers    heart  !      Lord   Howard,   what 

meanes  this! 

How.     The  Chancelor,  and  that  inuirious  lord 
Can  well  expound  the  meaning. 

Winch.     Oh,  chance  accurft !  how  came  he  by  this 

notice  1 
Her  life  is  guarded  by  the  hand  of  heauen, 


232  If  you  know  not  me, 

And  we  in  vain  purfue  it. 

Phil.     Lord  Chancellor,  your  dealing  is  not  faire. 
See,  lords,  what  writs  offer  themfelues 
To  the  imprefie  of  our  feale. 

Sujf.     See,  my  lord,  a  warrant 
For  the  Princeffe  death,  before  fhe  be  convicted. 
What  jugling  call  you  this  ?  See,  fee,  for  Gods  fake. 

Gage.     And  a  purfeuant,  ready  to  poft, 
Away  with  it,  to  fee  it  done  with  fpeed. 
What  flinty  breft  could  brooke  to  fee  her  bleed  ? 

Phil.     Lord  Chancellor,  out  of  our  prerogatiue 
We  will  make  bold  to  enterline  your  warrant. 

Sujff.     Whofe  plot  was  this  ? 

How.    The  Chancellors,  and  my  Lord  Conftables. 

Suff.     How  was  't  reuealed  ? 

How.     By  this   gentleman,    Matter    Gre/ham,    the 
Kings  Agent,  here. 

Sujff.     He  hath  mew'd  his  loue   to   the   King  & 

Queens  maiefty, 
His  feruice  to  his  Country,  and  care  of  the  Princeffe. 

Grejh.     My  duty  to  them  all. 

Phil.     Inftead  of  charging   of  the   Sheriffes  ^vith 

her, 

We  here  difcharge  her  keeper,  JBening field ', 
And  where  we  mould  haue  brought  her  to  the  block, 
We  now  will  haue  her  brought  to  Hampton  Court, 
There  to  attend  the  pleafure  of  the  Queene. 
The  Purfeuant,  that  mould  haue  potted  downe 
With  tidings  of  her  death,  beare  her  the  meffage 
Of  her  repriued  life. — You,  Matter  Gage, 
Affitt  his  fpeed. — A  good  days  work  we  ha  made, 
To  refcue  innocence  fo  neare  betray'd. 

Enter  Clown  and  Clarentia. 

Clown.     Whither  go  you  fo  fatt,  Mittrifs  Clarential 
Clar.     A  milking. 

Clown.     A  milking  !   that's  a  poore  office   for  a 
madame. 


you  know  no  body.  233 

Clar.     Better  be  a  milkmaide  free,  then  a  madam 

in  bondage. 

Oh  had  ft  thoii  heard  the  Princeffe  yefternight, 
Sitting  within  an  arbor,  all  alone, 
To  heare  a  milkemaid  fmg, 
It  would  haue  moou'd  a  flinty  heart  to  melt, 
Weeping  and  wifhing,  wifhing  and  weeping, 
A  thoufand  times  me  with  herfelf  debates 
With  the  poore  milkmaid  to  exchange  eftates. 
She  was  a  Sempfter  in  the  Tower,  being  a  Princeffe, 
And  mail  I,  her  poor  Gentlewoman,  difdaine 
To  be  a  milkmaid  in  the  country  ? 

Clown.  Troth  you  fay  true  :  euery  one  to  his  for 
tune,  as  men  go  to  hanging.  The  time  hath  been 
when  I  would^a  fcorn'd  to  carry  coals,  but  now,  the 
cafe  is  alter'd  j  euery  man  as  far  as  his  talent  will 
ftretch. 


Enter  a  Gentlewoman. 

Gentle.  Where's  Miftrefs  Clarentia  1  To  horfe,  to 
horfe  !  The  Princeffe  is  fent  for  to  the  Court.  She's 
gone  already.  Come,  let's  after. 

Clar.     The   Princefs  gone,   and  I  left  here    be- 

hinde  ? 
Come,  come  :  our  horfes  mall  outflrip  the  winde. 

Clown.  And  He  not  be  long  after  you  ;  for  I  am 
fure  my  curtail  will  carry  me  as  fail  as  your  double 
Gelding.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Elizabeth  and  Gage. 

Eliz.     I  wonder,  Gage  that  we 
Haue  flaid  fo  long  fo  near  the  Court,  and  yet 
Haue  heard  no  newes  from  our  difpleafed  filler. 
This  more  affrights  me  than  my  former  troubles. 
I  fear  this  Hampton-court  will  be  my  graue. 


234  If  you  know  not  me, 

Gage.     Good  madam,  blot  fuch   thoughts   out  of 

your  minde. 

The  lords,  I  know,  are  ftill  about  your  fute, 
And  make  no  doubt  but  they  will  fo  preuaile, 
Both  with  the  King  and  Queen,  that  you  mail  fee 
Their  heynous  anger  will  be  turn'd  to  loue. 

Enter  Howard. 

How.     Where  is  the  Princeffe  1 
Eliz.     Welcome,  my  good  Lord  Howard. 
What  fayes  the  Queene  ?     Will  me  admit  my  fight  ? 
How.     Madam,  (he  will :  this  night  me  hath  ap 
pointed, 

That  (he  herfelfe  in  perfon  means  to  heare  you. 
Protract  no  time  ;  then,  come ;  let's  haft  away. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  four  torches.      Philip,  Winch efler,   Howard, 
Shandoyfe,  Beningneld,  and  attendants. 

Queen*    Where  is  the  Princeffe  1 

How.     She  waits   your  pleafure   at   the   common 
ftaires. 

Queen.     Ufher  her  in  by  torch-light. 

How.      Gentlemen   Vfhers    and    gentlemen    Pen- 

tioners, 
Lights  for  the  Princefs  :  Attendance,  gentlemen. 

Phil.     For  her  fuppofed  virtues,  royall  Queene, 
Looke  on  your  filler  with  a  fmiling  brow, 
And  if  her  fault  merit  not  too  much  hate, 
Let  her  be  cenfur'd  with  all  lenity. 
Let  your  deepe  hatred  end  where  it  begunne  : 
She  hath  been  too  long  banifht  from  the  fun. 

Queen.     Our  fauour  (hall  be  farre  boue  her  defert ; 
And  me  that  hath  been  baniih'd  from  the  light, 
Shall  once  againe  behold  our  cheerfull  fight. 
You  my  lord  mall  ftep  behinde  the  arras, 


you  know  no  body.  235 

And  heare  our  conference.     Wele  (how  her  grace, 
For  there  fhines  too  much  mercy  in  your  face. 

Phil.     We  bear  this  mind  :    we  errors  would  not 

feed, 

Nor  cherifh  wrongs,  nor  yet  fee  innocents  bleed. 
Queen.     Call  the  Princels  ! 

Exeunt  for  the  Princefs.     Philip  behind  the  arras. 

Enter  all  with  Elizabeth. 

All  forbeare  this  place,  except  our  filler,  now. 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Eliz.     That  God   that  raifd   you,  flay   you,   and 

protect 
You  from  your  foes,  and  cleare  me  from  fufpedl. 

Queen.     Wherefore  doe  you  cry  ? 
To  fee  yourfelf  fo  low,  or  vs  fo  hie  1 

Eliz.     Neither,  dread  Queen :  mine  is  a  womanifli 

teare, 

In  part  compell'd  by  joy,  and  part  by  fear. 
Joy  of  your  fight  thefe  brinifh  tears  haue  bred, 
And  feare  of  my  Queens  frowne  to  ftrike  me  dead. 

Queen.     Siller,   I   rather    think    they're    tears    of 
fpleene. 

Eliz.     You    were    my  filler,    now    you    are    my 
Queene. 

Queen.     I,  that's  your  grief. 

Eliz.     Madam,  he  was  my  foe, 
And  not  your  friend,  that  hath  poffeft  you  fo. 
I  am  as  true  a  fubiecl  to  your  grace, 
As  any  Hues  this  day.     Did  you  but  fee 
My  heart,  it  bends  farre  lower  then  my  knee. 

Queen.     We  know  you  can  fpeake  well.     Will  you 
fubmit  ? 

Eliz.     My  life,  madam,  I  will  j  but  not  as  guilty  : 
Should  I  confefs 

Fault  done  by  her  that  neuer  did  tranfgreffe  ? 
I  ioy  to  haue  a  fifler  Queene  fo  royall ; 
I  would  it  as  much  pleafd  your  Maiefly, 
That  you  enioy  a  fiftejr  thats  fo  true. 


2  3^  If  you  know  not  me> 

If  I  were  guilty  of  the  leaft  offence, 

Madam,  'twould  taint  the  blood  euen  in  your  face. 

The  treafons  of  the  father  being  noble, 

Vnnobles  all  his  children  :  Let  your  grace 

Exact  all  torture  and  imprifonment, 

Whatere  my  greateft  enemies  can  deuife, 

And  when  they  haue  all  done  their  worft,  yet  I 

Will  your  true  fubjecl,  and  true  fitter  die. 

Phil,  (behind  the  arras}.  Mirror  of  vertue  and  bright 

Natures  pride  ! 
Pity  it  had  beene  fuchjjfiaujy  mould  haue  dide. 

Queen.     Youle  not  fubmit,  then,   but   end  as  you 
begin. 

Eliz.     Madam,  to  death  I  will,  but  not  to  fin. 

Queen.     You  are  not  guilty,  then  1 

Eliz.     I  think e  I  am  not. 

Queen.     I  am  not  of  your  minde. 

Eliz.     I  would  your  highnefs  were. 

Queen.     How  meane  you  that  ? 

Eliz.     To    thinke   as   I  thinke,   that    my  foul   is 
clear. 

Queen.     You  haue  been  wrong  imprifoned,  then  ? 

Eliz.     He  not  fay  fo. 

Queen.      Whatere    you  think,  arife    and  kiffe  our 

hand. 
Say,  God  hath  raifd  you  friends. 

Eliz.     Then  God  hath  kept  his  promife. 

Queen.     Promife,  why? 

Eliz.     To  raife  them  friends  that  on  his  word  rely. 

Enter  Philip. 

Phil.     And  may  the  heauens  applaud  this  vnity  : 
Accurfl  be  they  that  firft  procurd  this  wrong. 
Now,    by  my  crown,  you   ha    been  kept  downe  too 

long. 
Queen.     Siller  this  night  yourfelfe  ihall    feafl  with 

me; 
To-morrow  for  the  country  :  you  are  free. — 


you  know  no  body.  237 

Lights  for  the  Princeffe,  conduct  her  to  her  chamber. 

Exit  Elizabeth. 

Phil.     My  foul  is  ioyfull  that  this  peace  is  made ; 
A  peace  that  pleafeth  heauen  and  earth  and  all, 
Redeeming  captiue  thoughts  from  captiue  thrall. 
Faire  Queene,  the  ferious  bufmefs  of  my  father 
Is  now  at  hand  to  be  accomplished  : 
Of  your  fair  fight  needs  muft  I  take  my  leaue  : 
Returne  I  fhall,  though  parting  caufe  vs  grieue. 

Queen.     Why  mould  two  hearts  be  forc'd  to  fepa- 

rate  ? 

I  know  your  bufmeffe,  but  belieue  me,  fweet, 
My  foul  diuines  we  neuer  more  fhall  meet. 

Phil.     Yet  faire  Queene,  hope  the  bed :  I  (hall  re 
turn  e, 
Who  met  with  ioy,  though  now  fadly  mourn. 

Exeunt  Philip  &>  Qu. 
Bening.     What,  droops  your  honour  '\ 
Winch.     Oh,  I  am  fick. 
Conft.     Where  lies  your  grief  1 
Winch.     Where  yours  and  all  good  fubiecls    elfe 

mould  lie, 
Neare  at  the  heart. 

This  confirmation  I  do  greatly  dread ; 
For  now  our  true  religion  will  decay. 
I  doe  diuine,  whoeuer  Hues  feuen  yeare 
Shall  fee  no  Religion  here  but  herefy. 

Bening.     Come,  come,  my  lords,  this  is  but  for  a 

mow. 

Our  Queene  I  warrant,  wifhes  in  her  heart 
Her  fifter  Princeffe  were  without  her  head. 

Winch.      No,  no,  my  lords  :   this  peace   is  natu- 

rall; 

This  combination  is  without  deceit ; 
But  I  will  once  more  write  to  incenfe  the  Queene. 
The  plot  is  laid  :  thus  it  mail  be  performed. 
Sir  Harry,  you  fhall  go  attach  her  feruant, 
Vpon  fufpition  of  fome  treachery, 


2  3  8  If  you  know  not  me, 

Wherein  the  Princeffe  fhall  be  acceffary. 

If  this  doe  faile,  my  policy  is  downe. 

But  I  grow  faint  :  the  feuer  fteals  on  me  ; 

Death,  like  a  vultur  tyres  vpon  my  heart, 

lie  leaue  you  two  to  profecute  the  drift : 

My  bones  to  earth  I  giue,  to  heauen  my  foul  I  lift 

Exeunt  omnes. 

Enter  Gage  and  Clarentia. 

Gage.     Madam  Clarentia.,  is  my  lady  flirring  ? 
Clar.     Yes,  Mailer  Gage,  but  heauy  at -the  heart, 
For  mee  was  frighted  with  a  dreame  this  night. 
She  faid  me  dream'd  her  filler  was  new  married, 
And  fate  vpon  an  high  imperial  throne  : 
That  me  herfelf  was  call  into  a  dungeon, 
Where  enemies  enuirond  her  about, 
Offering  their  weapons  to  her  naked  breft  ; 
Nay,  they  would  fcarcely  giue  her  leaue  to  pray, 
They  made  fuch  hafte  to  hurry  her  away. 

Gage.     Heauen  fhield    my  miflrifs,  and    make  her 

friends  increafe  ; 
Conuert  her  foes ;  eflate  her  in  true  peace. 

Clar.     Then    did    I   dreame  of  weddings  and  of 

flowers. 

Methought  I  was  within  the  fineft  garden 
That  euer  mortall  eye  did  yet  behold : 
Then  flraight  me  thought  fome  of   the  chiefe  were 

pickt 

To  dreffe  the  bride.     O  twas  the  rarefl  mow 
To  fee  the  bride  goe  fmiling  longft  the  ftreets, 
As  if  me  went  to  happinefs  eternal. 

Gage.     O    mofl    vnhappy    dreame,    my    feare    is 

now 

As  great  as  yours  :  before  it  was  but  fmall. 
Come,  lets  goe  comfort  her  that  ioys  us  all. 

Exeunt. 


you  know  no  body.  239 


ENTER  A   DUMBE   SHOW:   SIXE   TORCHES. 

Suffex  bearing  the  crowne,  Howard  bearing  the  Scepter, 
the  Conftable  the  Mace,  Tame  thepurfe,  Shandoyfe 
the  f word :  Philip  and  Mary ;  after  them  the  Car 
dinal  Poole,  Beningfield,  and  attendants.  Philip 
and  Mary  conferre :  he  takes  leaue,  and  exit.  Nobles 
bring  him  to  the  door  and  returne ;  JJie  falls  in  a 
f wound;  they  comfort  her. 

A  dead  march.  Enter  four  with  the  herfe  of  Winchef- 
ter,  with  the  fcepter  and  purfe  lying  on  it ;  the 
Queen  takes  the  fcepter  and  purje,  and  giues  it 
to  Cardinal  Poole.  A  Sennet,  6°  exeunt  omnes, 
prater  Suffex, 

Stiff.      Winche/ter  dead  !      Oh   God  !    euen  at  his 

death 

He  fhew'd  his  malice  to  the  fweet  young  Princefs. 
God  pardon  him,  his  foul  mufl  anfwer  all. 
Shee's  ftill  preferued,  and  ftill  her  foes  do  fall. 
The  Queen  is  much  befotted  on  thefe  Prelates, 
For  there's  another  raifed,  more  bafe  then  he, 
Poole  that  Arch,  for  truth  and  honefly. 

Enter  Beningfield. 

Bening.     My  lord  of  Suffex,  I  can  tell  ill  news. 
The  Cardinal  Poole,  that  now  was  firmly  well, 
Is  fuddenly  falln  fick,  and  like  to  dye. 

Suff.     Let  him  go.     Why,  then,  theres  a  fall  of  Pre 
lates.  * 
This  realme  will  neuer  fland  in  perfect  ftate, 
Till  all  their  faclion  be  cleare  ruinate. 

Enter  Conftable. 

Conft.     Sir  Harry,  do  you  heare  the  whifpeiing  in 
the  Court  ? 


240  If  you  know  not  me, 

They  fay  the  Queene  is  crafie,  very  ill. 
Suff.     How  heard  you  that  ? 
Conjl     Tis  common  through  the  houfe. 

Enter  Howard. 

How.     Tis  a  fad  Court,  my  lord. 

Suff.     Whats    the    matter  ?    fay,    how    fares    the 

Queen  ? 

How.    Whether    in   forrow    for   the  Kings  depar 
ture, 

Or  elfe  for  grief  at  Winchefters  deceafe, 
Or  elfe  that  Cardinal  Pooh  is  fodainly  dead, 
I  cannot  tell ;  but  (he's  exceeding  fick. 
Suff.     The  State  begins  to  alter. 
How.     Nay,  more,  my  lord  :  I  came  now  from  the 

prefence ; 

I  heard  the  doclors  whifper  it  in  fecret, 
There  is  no  way  but  one. 

Suff.     God's  will  be  done.    Who's  with  the  Queene, 

my  lord  ? 
Haw.     The  Duke  of  Norfolke,  and  the  Earle  of 

Oxford, 

The  Earle  of  Arundell,  and  diuers  others  : 
They  are  withdrawne  into  the  inward  chamber, 
There  to  take  counfel,  and  intreat  your  prefence. 
Suff.     Wele  wait  vpon  their  Honours.      Ex.  omnes. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Gage,  and  Clarentia  aboue. 

Eliz.     O   God  !    my  laft  nights  dreame  I  greatly 

feare ; 

It  doth  prefage  my  death. — Good  Matter  Gage, 
Looke    to   the  pathway  that   doth    come  from 

Court  ; 

I  looke  each  minute  for  deaths  meffenger. 
Would  he  were  here  now,  fo  my  foule  were  pure, 
That  I  with  patience  might  the  ftroke  endure.         .,1 


you  know  no  body.  241 

Gage.      Madam,   I    fee    from    farre    a    horfeman 

coming ; 

This  way  he  bends  his  fpeed.     He  comes  fo  fad, 
That  he  is  couerd  in  a  cloud  of  dufl ; 
And    now    I    haue    loft    his    fight.      He    appeares 

againe. 
Making     his    way    ouer    hill,     hedge,     ditch,    and 

plaine ; 

One  after  him  :  they  two  ftriue, 
As  on  the  race  they  had  wagerd  both  their  Hues  ; 
Another  after  him. 

Eliz.     O  God  !  what  meanes  this  hafte  1 
Pray  for  my  ioule  :  my  life  cannot  long  laft. 

Gage.     Strange  and  miraculous,  the  firfl  being  at 

the  gate, 
His    horfe    hath    broke    his    necke,    and    call    his 

rider. 

Eliz.     This  fame  is  but  as  prologue  to  my  death, 
My  heart  is  guiltleffe,  though  they  take  my  breath. 


Enter  Sir  Henry  Karew. 

Karew.     God    faue    the   Queene,   God  faue  Eli 
zabeth. 
Eliz.     God  fave  the  Queene ;  fo  all  good  fubiecls 

fay  :„ 
I  am  her  fubiecl,  and  for  her  ftill  pray. 

Karew.     My    horfe    did    you    allegeance    at    the 

gate, 

For  there  he  broke  his  necke  and  there  he  lies, 
For  I  myfelf  had  much  adoe  to  rife. 
The  fall  hath  bruif  d  me,  yet  I  Hue  to  cry, 
God  blefs  your  Grace,  God  blefs  your  Maiefly  ! 

Gage.     Long     Hue    the    Queen,    long    Hue    your 

majefty ! 
Eliz.     This    newes  is  fweete  :    my  heart  was  fore 

afraid, 
Rife  thou,  firfl  Baron  that  we  euer  made. 

1  R 


242  If  you  know  not  mey 

Karew.     Thankes  to  your  Maiefly.     Happy  be  my 

tongue, 
That  firfl  breath'd  right  to  one  that  had  mch  wrong. 

Enter  Sir  John  Brocket. 

Brock.    Am  I  preuented  in  my  hade.     O  chance 

accurfl  ! 

My  hopes  did  footh  me  that  I  was  the  firfl ; 
Let  not  my  duty  be  ore-fway'd  by  fpleen  ; 
Long    liue    my    Soueraign,     and    God    faue    the 

Queen  ! 

Eliz.     Thanks,  good  Sir  John :   we  will  deferue 
your  loue. 

Enter  Howard. 

How.     Though  third  in   order,   yet    the  firfl    in 

loue, 

I  tender  my  allegeance  to  your  grace. 
Liue  long,   faire    Queene;    thrice    happy    be    your 

raigne, 
He  that  inflates  you,  your  high  flate  maintaine. 

Eliz.     Lord  Howard,  thankes ;  you  euer  were  our 

friend  : 

I  fee  your  loue  continues  to  the  end. 
But  chiefly  thanks  to  you,  my  Lord  of  Hunfdon. 
How.     Meaning  this  gentleman  1 
Eliz.     The  very  fame  : 
His  tongue  was  firfl  proclaimer  of  our  name. 
And  trufly  Gage,  in  token  of  our  grace, 
We  giue  to  you  a  Captaine  Pentioners  place. 

How.     Madam,   the   Counfell  are   here    hard  at 

hand. 

Eliz.     We  will  defcend  and  meet  them. 
Carew.     Let's  guard  our  Soueraign,  praifing  that 

power, 
That  can  throw  downe  and  raife  within  an  hour. 

Ex.  omnes. 


you  know  no  body.  243 

Enter  the  Clowne  and  one  more  with  faggots. 

Clown.  Come,  neighbour  ;  come  away  :  euery 
man  his  faggot  and  his  double  pot,  for  ioy  of  the  old 
Queens  death. 

Let  bels  ring,  and  children  fmg, 
For  we  may  haue  caufe  to  remember 
The  feuenteenth  day  of  Nouember. 

Enter  Lord  of  Tame. 

Tame.      How  now,   my   mailers,    what's   here   to 
do? 

Clown.  Faith,  making  bone-fires,  for  ioy  of  the  new 
Queene.  Come,  fir,  your  penny  :  and  you  be  a  true 
fubiecl,  you'll  battle  with  vs  your  faggot.  We'll  be 
merry,  i'faith. 

Tame.     And  you   do   well.     And  yet,   methinke, 

twere  fit 

To  fpend  fome  funerall  teares  vpon  her  hearfe, 
Who,  while  me  liu'd  was  deare  vnto  you  all. 

Clown.     I,  but  do  you  not  know  the  old  prouerb  ? 
We  mufl  Hue  by  the  quicke,  and  not  by  the  dead. 

Tame.      Did  you   not  loue   her  father,   when   he 

liu'd, 

As  dearly  as  you  ere  did  loue  any, 
And  yet  reioiced  at  his  funeral  1 
Likewife  her  brother,  you  efteem'd  him  dear, 
Yet  once  departed,  joyfully  you  fung: 
Run  to  make  bonefires,  to  proclaime  your  loue 
Vnto  the  new,  forgetting  ftill  the  old  : 
Now  me  is  gone,  how  you  mone  for  her  ! 
Wete  it  not  fit  a  while  to  mone  her  hearfe, 
And  dutifully  then  reioice  for  th'  other  ? 
Had  you  the  wifefl  and  the  louing'ft  prince 
That  euer  fwayd  a  fcepter  in  the  world, 
This  is  the  loue  he  mail  haue  after  life. 
Let  princes  while  they  Hue  haue  loue,  or  fear,  tis  fit, 
For  after  death  there's  none  continues  it. 

R    2 


244  If  you  know  not  me, 

Clown.      By  my  faith,  my   matters,    he    fpeakes 

wifely. 

Come,  wele  to  the  end  of  the  lane,  and  there  wele 
make  a  bonefire  and  be  merry. 

i.  Faith  agreed  He  fpend  my  halfepenny  towards 
another  faggot,  rather  than  the  new  Queene  (hall  want 
a  bonefire.  Exeunt.  Manet  Tame. 

Tame.     I    blame  you  not,   nor   doe   I  you  com 
mend. 
For  you  will  flill  the  ftrongeft  fide  defend.  Exit. 

A   SENNET. 

Enter  foure  Trumpeters :  after  them  Sergeant  Trum 
peter,  with  a  mace ;  after  him  Purfe-bearer. 
Suffex,  with  the  Crowne ;  Howard  the  Scepter ; 
Conftable,  with  the  Cap  of  Maintenance ;  Shan- 
doyfe,  with  the  Sword  \  Tame,  with  the  Collar 
and  a  George.  Foure  Gentlemen  bearing  the 
Canopy  ouer  the  Queene ;  two  Gentlewomen,  bear 
ing  vp  her  traine :  fixe  Gentlemen  Petitioners.  The 
Queene  takes  ftate. 

Omnes.     Long  Hue,  long  reigne  our  Soueraigne. 

Eliz.     We  thanke  you  all. 

Sufi.     The  imperiall  crpwne  I  here   prefent  your 

Grace : 
With  it  my  ftaffe  of  office,  and  my  place. 

Eliz.     Whilil  we  this  Crowne,  fo  long  your  place 

enioy. 

How.     Th'  imperial  fcepter  here  I  offer  vp. 
Eliz.     Keep  it,  my  lord ;   and  with  it  be  you  hye 

Admiral. 

Conft.     This  Cap  of  Maintenance  I  prefent,   . 
My  ftaffe  of  office,  and  my  vtmofl  feruice. 
Eliz.     Your  loue  we  know, 
Conft.     Pardon   me,   gracious   madam  :    twas   not 

fpleen, 
But  that  allegeance  that  I  ow'd  my  Queen. 


you  know  no  body.  245 

Madam,  I  feru'd  her  truly  at  that  day, 
And  I  as  truly  will  your  Grace  obey. 

Eliz.     We   doe   as   freely  pardon,    as    you    truly 

ferue ; 

Onely  your  ftaffe  of  office  wele  displace  : 
Inflead  of  that,  wele  owe  you  greater  grace. 

Enter  Beningfield, 

Benin%.     Long  Hue   the   Queen !    long    Hue  your 

maiefly  ! 

I  haue  rid  hard  to  be  the  firfl  reporter 
Of  thefe  glad  tidings  firft,  and  all  thefe  here. 

Sujf.     You  are  in  your  loue  as  free   as  in  your 

care : 

You're  come  euen  mil  a  day  after  the  faire. 
Eliz.     What's  he  ?     My  iailor  1 
Benin%.     God  preferue  your  Grace. 
Eliz.     Be    not  afhamed,   man :    look  me   in   the 

face. 

Who  haue  you  now  to  patronize  your  ftridlnefs  on  1 
For  your  kindnefs  this  we  will  beftow : 
When  we  haue  one  we  would  haue  hardly  vf'd, 
And  cruelly  dealt  with,  you  mail  be  the  man. 
This  is  a  day  for  peace,  not  vengeance  fit, 
All  your  good  deeds  we'll  quit,  all  wrongs  remit. — 
Where  we  left  of£  proceed. 

Shand.     The   fword    of    luflice    on    my  bended 

knee 

I  to  your  grace  prefent     Heauen  blefs  your  raign. 
Eliz.     This   fword  is   ours ;    this    ftaffe   is   yours 

again. 

Tame.     This  Garter,  with  the  order  of  the  George, 
Two  ornaments  vnto  the  crowne  of  England, 
I  here  prefent. 

Eliz.     Poffeffe  them  dill,  my  lord. —What  offices 

beare  you  1 
Gage.     I  Captain  of  your  Highnes  Petitioners. 


246  If  you  know  not  me, 

Brock.     I  of  your  Guard. 

Sergeant.       I    Sergeant    Trumpeter    prefent     my 
Mace. 

Eliz.      Some  we  intend  to  raife,   none    to    dif- 

place. 

Lord  Hunfdon,  we  will  one  day  finde  a  ftaffe 
To  poyfe  your  hand  :  you  are  our  coufm,  and 
Deferue  to  be  employd  nearer  our  perfon. 
But  now  to  you,  from  whom  we  take  this  ftaff, 
Since  Cardinal  Pole  is  now  deceafl  and  dead, 
To  mow  all  malice  from  our  breaft  is  worne, 
Before  you  let  that  Purfe  and  Mace  be  borne. 
And  now  to  London,  lords,  lead  on  the  way, 
Praifmg  that  King  that  all  kings  elfe  obey. 

Sennet  about  the  Stage  in  order.     The  Maior  of  London 
meets  them. 

Maior.     I  from  this  citie  London  doe  prefent 
This  purfe  and  Bible  to  your  Maiefty. 
A  thoufand  of  your  faithfull  citizens, 
In  veluet  Coats  and  chaines,  well  mounted,  flay 
To  greet  their  Royall  Soueraigne  on  the  way. 

Eliz.     We  thanke  you  all;  but  firfl  this  Book  I 

kiffe: 

Thou  art  the  way  to  honor ;  thou  to  blifle. 
An  Englifh  Bible  !     Thankes,  my  good  Lord  Mayor, 
You  of  our  body  and  our  foule  haue  care, 
This  is  the  iewel  that  we  ftill  loue  bell ; 
This  was  our  folace  when  we  were  diflrefl. 
This  book,  that  hath  fo  long  conceald  itfelf, 
So  long  fhut  vp,  fo  long  hid,  now,  lords,  fee, 
We  here  unclafpe  :  for  euer  it  is  free. 
Who  lookes  for  ioy,  let  him  this  booke  adore ; 
This  is  true  food  for  rich  men  and  for  poore. 
Who  drinkes  of  this  is  certain  ne'er  to  perifh  : 
This  will  the  foule  with  heauenly  vertue  cherifh. 
Lay  hand  vpon  this  Anchor  euery  foule, 
Your  names  mall  be  in  an  eternall  fcroll ; 


\ 


you  know  no  body.  247 

Who  builds  on  this,  dwels  in  a  happy  (late  : 
This  is  the  fountaine,  cleare,  immaculate. 
That  happy  ifiue  that  mail  us  fucceed, 
And  in  our  populous  kingdome  this  booke  reade, 
For  them,  as  for  our  felues,  we  humbly  pray, 
They  may  Hue  long,  and  bled.     So,  lead  the  way. 


FINIS. 


If  you  know  not  me, 

you  know  no  body. 


THE  SECOND  PART. 


With  the  building  of  the  Royall  Exchange. 

AND 

The  fampus  Yi6lory  of  Queen  Elizabeth  :  Anno  1588. 


LONDON 
A    Printed  for  NATHAN AEL  BVTTER.     1632. 


[Carefully  collated    with  the  earlier    editions    of 
1606 — 1623.] 


If  you  know  not  me, 
you  know  nobody. 

THE  SECOND  PART. 

With  the  Building  of  the  Exchange, 


A£lus  primus,    Scezna  prima. 

Enter  one  of  Grefhams  Faffors,  and  a  Barbary 
Merchant. 

Faft.     My  matter,  fir,  requefls  your  company, 
About  confirming  certaine  couenants 
Touching  your  laft  nights  conference. 

Mer.     The  Sugars. 
Belieue  me,  to  his  credit  be  it  fpoke, 
He  is  a  man  of  heedful  prouidence, 
And  one  that  by  innatiue  courtefie 
Winnes  loue  from  ftrangers.     Be  it  without  offence, 
How  are  his  prefent  fortunes  reckoned  ? 

Fatt.     Neither  to  flatter,  nor  detract  from  him, 
He  is  a  Merchant  of  good  eftimate : 
Care  how  to  get,  and  forecafl  to  encreafe, 
(If  fo  they  be  accounted)  be  his  faults. 

Mer.     They  are  efpeciall  vertues,  being  clear 
From  auarice  and  bafe  extortion. 


,2  5  2  If  you  know  not  me. 

Enter  Grejham. 

But  here  he  comes.  ;, 

Good  day  to  M,  GreJJiam. 
You  keepe  your  word. 

Grejh.     Elfe  (liould  I  ill  deferue 
The  title  that  I  weare,  a  merchants  tongue 
Should  not  ftrike  falfe. 

Mer.     What  thinke  you  of  my  proffer 
Touching  the  Sugar  ? 

Grejh.     I  bethought  myfelfe 
Both  of  the  gaine  and  lofies  incident, 
And  this,  I  take 't  was  the  whole  circumflance, 
It  was  my  motion,  and  I  thinke  your  prornife, 
To  get  a  me  feal'd  Patent  from  your  king, 
For  all  your  Barbary  Sugars  at  a  price, 
During  the  kings  life  ;  and  for  his  princely  loue, 
I  am  to  fend  him  threefcore  thoufand  pounds. 

Mer.     Twas  fo  condition'd,  and  to  that  effect 
His  highnefs  promife  is  already  pafl ; 
And  if  you  dare  giue  credit  to  my  trufl, 
Send  but  your  priuate  Letters  to  your  Factor, 
That  deales  for  your  affaires  in  Barbary, 
His  maiefly  mail  either  feal  your  Patent, 
Or  He  return  the  money  to  your  Factor. 

Grejh.     As    much    as    I    defire.     Pray,   fir,  draw 

neare 

And  tafte  a  cup  of  wine  whilfl  I  confider 
And  throughly  fcan  fuch  accidental  doubts, 
As  may  concerne  a  matter  of  fuch  moment. 

Mer.     At  your  befl  leyfure.  Exit. 

Grejh.     He  refolue  you  flraight. 
Bethinke  thee,  Grejham,  threefcore  thoufand  pounds, 
A  good  round  fum  :  let  not  the  hope  of  gaine 
Draw  thee  to  loffe.     I  am  to  haue  a  patent 
For  all  the  Barbary  Sugars  at  a  rate, 
The  gaine  cleares  halfe  in  halfe,  but  then  the  hazard  : 
My  terme  continues  during  the  king's  life  : 
The  king  may  die  before  my  firft  return  ; 


you  know  no  bcdy.  253 

Then    where's    my    cam?     Why,    fo   the  king  may 

Hue 

Thefe  40  years  ;  then  where  is  Grejhams  gaine  ? 
It  (lands  in  this,  as  in  all  ventures  elfe, 
Doubtful.     No  more  ;  He  through,  what  ere  it  cod, 
So  much  cleare  gaine,  or  fo  much  coine  cleare  lofl.— 
Within  there  ho. 


Enter  John  Grefliam.     2.  or  3.  Faftors. 

Fatt.     At  hand,  fir  :  did  you  call  ? 

Grejh.     How  thriues  our  cafh  ?     What,  is  it  well 

encreaft  ? 

I  fpeake  like  one  that  muft  be  forc't  to  borrow. 
i.  Faft.     Your  wormip's  merry. 
Grejh.     Merry?    Tell  me,  knaue, 
Doft  thou  not  thinke  that  threefcore  thoufand  pounds 
Would  make  an  honed  merchant  try  his  friends  1 
Faff.     Yes,    by  my  faith,   fir;    but  you    haue  a 

friend 

Would  not  fee  you  Hand  out  for  twice  the  fumme. 
Grejh.     Praife  God  for  all.     But  what's  the  common 

rumour 

Touching  my  bargain  with  the  King  of  Barbary  1 
i.  Fait.     Tis  held  your  credit  and  your  countries 

honor, 

That  being  but  a  Merchant  of  the  City, 
And  taken  in  a  manner  vnprouided, 
You  mould  vpon  a  meere  prefumption 
And  naked  promife,  part  with  fo  much  Cam, 
Which    the    bed    merchants    both    in    Spaine    and 

France 
Denied  to  venture  on. 

Grejh.     Good  ;  but  withall, 

What  doe  they  thinke  in  generall  of  the  bargaine  ? 
i.  Fa  ft.     That  if  the  king  confirme  and  feale  your 

patent, 
London  will  yeeld  you  partners  anow. 


254  If  y°u  know  not 

Gre/h.     I  think  no  lefs. — Goe  fit  you  for  the  fea, 
I  meane  to  fend  you  into  Barbary, 
You  vnto  Venice,  you  to  Portingall, 
Prouide  you  prefently.     Where  much  is  fpent, 
Some  mud  be  got,  thrift  mould  be  prouident. 
Come  hither,  Cofin  :  all  the  reft  depart. 

Exeunt  Faftors. 

John.  I  had  as  good  depart  too  ;  for  hee'll  ring  a 
peale  in  mine  eare,  'twill  found  worfe  than  a  pafling- 
bell. 

Gre/h.     I    haue   tane    note    of   your   bad     hus 
bandry, 

Carelefle  refpecl,  and  prodigal  expence, 
And  out  of  my  experience  counfell  you. 

John.  And  I  hope  good  Vncle  you  think  I  am  as 
ready  to  take  good  counfell  as  you  to  giue  it ;  and  I 
doubt  not  but  to  cleare  myfelfe  of  all  objections  that 
foule-mouthed  enuy  fhall  intimate  againft  me. 

Grejh.     How    can    you    fatisfie    the    great   com 
plaint 

Preferr'd  againft  you  by  old  Miftrifs  Blunt, 
A  woman  of  approued  honefty. 

John.  That's  true  ;  her  honefty  hath  been  proued 
oftner  then  once  or  twice.  But  do  you  know  her,  Vn 
cle  ?  are  you  inward  with  her  courfe  of  life  1  Shes  a 
common  midwife  for  trade-falne  virginity:  there, are 
more  maidenheads  charged  and  dif charged  in  her 
houfe  in  a  yeare,  then  peeces  at  the  Artillery  yard." 

Gre/h.  She  brings  in  further  proofe  that  you  mifcall'd 
her. 

John.  I  neuer  call'd  her  out  of  her  name,  by  this 
hand  Vncle,  to  my  remembrance. 

Grejh.     No  ?  me  fays  you  call'd  her  bawde. 

John.  True  :  and  I  haue  knowne  her  anfwer  to 't  a 
thoufand  times.  Tut,  vncle;  tis  her  name,  and  I 
know  who  gaue  it  her,  too  :  by  the  fame  token,  her 
godfather  gaue  her  a  bow'd  angel,  ftanding  at  the 
doore,  which  (he  hath  kept  time  out  a  mind. 


you  know  no  body.  255 

Grejh.     Antonio  reports  you  loue  his  wife. 

John.  Loue  ?  why,  alas,  vncle,  I  hold  it  parcell 
of  my  duty  to  loue  my  neighbours ;  and  mould  I  hats 
his  wife  no  man  would  hold  me  a  fit  member  for  a 
commonwealth. 

Gre/h.    He  hates  you  for't. 

John.  Why,  alas,  Vncle,  that's  not  my  fault ;  He 
loue  him  nerethelefs.  You  know  we  are  commanded 
to  loue  our  enemies ;  and,  though  he  would  fee  me 
hang'd,  yet  will  I  loue  his  wife. 

Gre/h.     He  told  me  you  beftow'd  a  gowne  of  a 
ftrumpet. 

John.  Why  alas  Vncle,  the  poore  whore  went 
naked,  and  you  know  the  text  commands  vs  to  cloath 
the  naked ;  and  deeds  of  mercy  be  imputed  vnto  vs 
for  faults,  God  helpe  the  elect. 

Gre/h.      Well,    if    your    prodigall    expences    be 

aim'd 

At  any  vertuous  and  religious  end, 
Tis  the  more  tolerable ;  and  I  am  proud 
You  can  fo  probably  excufe  yourfelf. 

John.  Well  Vncle  to  approue  my  words,  as,  indeed, 
good  words  without  deeds,  are  like  your  greene  fig- 
tree  without  fruit :  I  haue  fworne  myfelfe  to  a  more 
conformable  and  ftri<5l  courfe  of  life. 

Gre/h.     Well,  coufin,  hoping  you'll    proue  a  new 
man. 

John.  A  new  man,  what  elfe  Vncle  1  He  be  a 
new  man  from  the  top  to  the  toe,  or  He  want  of  my 
will.  In  Head  of  tennis-court,  my  morning  exercife 
mall  be  at  Saint  Antlins  :  He  leaue  ordinaries  ;  and  to 
the  end  1  may  forfweare  dicing  and  drabbing,  keepe 
me  more  fhort  vncle,  onely  allow  mee  good  appa- 
rell ;  good  rags,  He  ftand  to  't,  are  better  then  feuen 
yeares  prentilhip,  for  theyle  make  a  man  free  of  any, 
nay,  of  all  companies,  without  indenture,  fathers  copy, 
or  any  helpe  whatfoeuer.  But  I  fee  my  error  ;  wilde 
youth  mud  be  bridled.  Keepe  me  mort,  good 
vncle. 


256  If  you  know  noi  me> 

Grejh.     On  thefe  prefumptions  He  apparell  thee  ; 
And  to  confirme  this  refolution, 
I  will  preferre  you  vnto  Mafter  Hobfon, 
A  man  of  a  well  knowne  difcretion. 

John.  Any  thing,  good  vncle.  I  haue  feru'd  my 
prentifhip  already,  butbinde  me  againe,  and  I  mall  be 
content ;  and  tis  but  reafon,  neither.  Send  me  to  the 
conduit  with  the  water-tankard  :  He  beat  linnen-buckes, 
or  any  thing,  to  redeeme  my  negligence. 

Grejh.     Your  education  challenges  more  refpect. 
The  factor  dealt  for  him  in  France  is  dead. 

John.  And  you  intend  to  fend  me  in  his 
roome. 

Grejh.     I  do  indeed. 

John.  It  is  well  done  Vncle  and  twill  not  be 
amiffe  in  policy  to  do  fo.  The  only  way  to  curbe  a 
diffolute  youth  as  I  am,  is  to  fend  him  from  his  ac 
quaintance  ;  and  therefore  fend  me  far  enough,  good 
Vncle  :  fend  mee  into  France,  and  fpare  not ;  and  if 
that  reclaime  me  not,  giue  me  ore  as  paft  all  good- 
neffe. 

Grejh.     Now  afore  God  my  thoughts  were  much 

againft  him, 

And  my  intent  was  to  haue  chid  him  roundly ; 
But  his  fubmifnue  recantation 
Hath    made    me    friends    with  him.      Come   follow 

me  : 
He  doe  thee  good,  and  that  immediately.  Exit. 

John.  Thanke  you,  good  vncle.  You'll  fend  me 
into  France  ;  all  Forboon  ;  and  I  do  not  (how  you  the 
right  trick  of  a  cofin  afore  I  leaue  England,  He  giue 
you  leaue  to  call  me  Cut,  and  cozen  me  of  my  patri 
mony,  as  you  haue  done.  Exit. 


Enter  Hobfons  Prentifes,  and  a  boy. 

i.  Pren.     Prethee   fellow  Goodman  fet    forth    the 
ware,  and  looke  to  the  mop  a  little.     He  but  drinke  a 


you  know  no  body.  257 

cup  of  wine  with   a  cuftomer  at  the  Rofe  and  Crownc 
in  the  Poultry,  and  come  againe  prefently. 

2.  Pren.     Foot  I  cannot,  I  muft  needs  ftep  to  the 
Dagger,  in  Cheape,  to  fend  a  letter  into  the  country 
vnto  my   father.      Stand  by;   you  are  the  youngefl 
prentife,  looke  you  to  the  mop. 

Enter  Hobfon. 

Hob.     Where  be  thefe  varlets  ?     Bones  a  me,  at 

Tauern  ? 

Knaues,  villains,  fpend  goods,  foot  my  cuftomers 
Muft  either  ferue  themfelues,  or  packe  vnferued. 
Now  they  peepe  like  Italian  pantelowns, 
Behind  an  arras ;  but  He  Mart  you,  knaues. 
I  haue  a  fhooing-horn  to-  draw  on  your  liquor : 
What  fay  you  to  a  peece  of  a  falt-eele  ? 
Come  forth,  you  hang-dogs,  Bones  a  me,  the  knaues 
Fleere  in  my  face,  they  know  me  too  well. 
I  talke  and  prate,  and  lay't  not  on  their  jackes, 
And  the  proud  Jacks  care  not  a  fig  for  me  ; 
But  bones  a  me,  He  turne  another  leafe. 
Where  haue  you  beene  fir  ? 

1.  Pren.     An  honefl  cuftomer 
Requefted  me  to  drinke  a  pint  of  wine. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  muft  your  crimfon  throat 
Be  fcourd  with  wine  ?  your  mafter's  glad  of  beere  : 
But  you'll  die  banquerouts,  knaues  and  banquerouts 

all.— 
And  where  haue  you  been  ? 

3.  Pren. .   At  breakfaft  with  a  Dagger-pie,  fir. 

Hob.     A  Dagger-pie  ?   uds,    daggers    death,   thefe 

knaues 

Sit  cocke-a-hope,  but  Hobfon  pays  for  all. 
But  bones  a  me,  knaues,  either  mend  you  manners, 
Leaue  ale-houles,  tauerns,  and  the  tipling  mates, 
Your  punks  and  cockatrices,  or  He  clap  ye 
Clofe  up  in  Bridewell  :  bones  a  me,  He  do  't. 

2.  Pren.     Befeech  you,  fir,  pardon  this  firft  offence, 
i  s 


2  5  8  If  you  know  not  me. 

Hob.     FIrft,  bones  a  me,  why,  tis  your  common 

courfe. 

And  you  muft  needs  be  gulling,  goe  by  turnes, 
One  to  the  ale-houfe,  and  two  keepe  the  mop. 

Enter  Pedler,  with  tawnie  coate. 

2  Pren.  It  mall  be  done,  fir. — How  much  ware 
would  you  haue  ? 

Taw.     Five  pounds  worth  in  fuch  commodities 
As  I  befpoke  laft  night. 

i  Pren.     They  are  ready  forted. 

Taw.     God  blefs  you,  Matter  Hobfon. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  knaue,  thou'rt  welcome.  What's 

the  newes 

At  bawdy  Barnewell,  and  at  Sturbridge  Faire  ? 
What,  haue  your  London  wenches  any  trading  ? 

Taw.     After  the  old  lort,  fir  :  they  vifit  the  Toule- 
booth,  and  the  Bulring  ftill. 
"  Hob.     Good  girles  they  do  their  kind.     What,  your 

packs  empty  1 

Good  newes,  a  figne  you  bring  your  purfes  full, 
And  bones  a  me,  full  purfes  mutt  be  welcome  : 
Sort  out  their  wares. — Welcome's  yo.ur  due  ; 
Pay  the  old  debt,  and  pen  and  inke  for  new. 

Taw.  We  have  for  you,  fir,  as  white  as  Bears 
teeth. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me  knaues — You  are  welcome ;  but 

what  newes  1 

What  newes  i'th'  country  ?  what  commodities 
Are  moft  refpedled  with  your  Country  Girls  ? 

Taw.  Faith,  fir,  our  Country  Girls  are  akinne  to 
your  London  Courtiers  ;  euery  month  ficke  of  a  new 
fafhion.  The  horning-busk  and  filken  bridelaces  are 
in  good  requett  with  the  parfons  wife  :  your  huge 
poking-tticke,  and  French  periwig,  with  chamber 
maids  and  waiting  gentlewomen.  Now,  your  Puri 
tans  poker  is  not  fo  huge,  but  fomewhat  longer ;  a 
long  ilender  poking-tticke  is  the  all  in  all  with  your 


you  know  no  body.  259 

Suffolke  Puritane.  Your  filk-band,  half  farthingales, 
and  changeable  fore-parts  are  common  ;  not  a  wench 
of  thirteene  but  weares  a  changeable  fore-part. 

Hob.     An  ancient  wearing :  there's  fome  change 
able  fluff 
Has  been  a  weare  with  women  time  out  of  mind. 

Taw.  Befides  fir,  many  of  our  young  married  men, 
haue  tane  an  order  to  weare  yellow  garters,  points, 
and  fhootyings ;  and  tis  thought  yellow  will  grow  a 
cuflome. 

Hob.     'Tas  been  vs'de  long  at  London. 

Taw.  And  tis  thought  'twill  come  in  requefl  in 
the  Country,  too:  for  a  fafhion  that  three  or  four 
young  wenches  have  promifed  mee  their  husbands 
lhall  weare,  or  theyle  miffe  of  their  markes.  Then 
your  maske,  filke-lace,  wafht  gloues,  carnation  girdles, 
and  bufk-point  futable,  as  common  as  coales  from 
Newcaflle  :  you  fhall  not  haue  a  kitchin-maid  fcrape 
trenchers  without  her  wafht  gloues  ;  a  darie-wench  will 
not  ride  to  market,  to  fell  her  butter-milke,  without 
her  maske  and  her  buske. 

Hob.     Still  a  good  hearing.     Let  the  country  pay 
Well  for  their  pride  ;  tis  gratis  here  at  London, 
And  that's  the  caufe  'tis  grown  fo  generall. 
But  feed  their  humours,  and  doe  not  fpare ; 
Bring  country  money  for  our  London  ware. 


Enter  Grefham  and  John  Grefham. 

Gre/h.     Where's  M.  Hobfon  ? — Cry  you  mercy,  fir. 

Hob.     No  harme  good  M.   GreJJiam  ;   pray  draw 

neare, 

He  but  difpatch  a  few  old  cuflomers, 
And  bend  a  prefent  eare  to  your  difcourfe. 

Gre/h.     At  -your  befl  leyfure. 

Hob.     Nay  my  task  is  done. 
O  M.  Grejham)  'twas  a  golden  world, 
When  we  were  boyes  :  an  honefl  country-yeoman, 

s  2 


260  If  you  know  not  mey 

Such  as  our  fathers  were,  God  reft  their  fouls, 
Would  wear  white  karfie. — Bones  a  me,  you  knaues  !' 
Stooles  for    thefe  gentlemen. — Your  worfhip's  wel 
come. 

Gre/h.     You  know  my  bufmeffe. 

Hob.     About  your  kinfman  : 
He  mail  be  welcome.     Befeech  you,  gentleman, 
Leffe    of   your    courtefy.      When  mail   we   fee   the 
youth  1 

Gre/h.     Why,  this  is  he. 

Hob.     Which,  bones  a  me,  which  1 

Gre/h.     Why,  this. 

Hob.    Which  1  where  ?     What,  this  young  gentle 
man  ? 

Bones  a  me  man,  he's  not  for  Hobfons  turne, 
He  looks  more  like  my  mailer  then  my  feruant. 

Grefh.     I  muft  confeffe  he  is  a  gentleman, 
And    my    neare     kinfman  :    were    he    mine    owne 

childe, 
His  fervice  mould  be  yours. 

Hob.    I  thanke  you  for't ; 
And  for  your  fake  He  giue  him  entertainment. 
But  gentleman,  if  you  become  my  man, 
You  muft  become  more  ciuill :  bones  a  me, 
What  a  curld  pate  is  here  ?     I  muft  ha't  off. 
You  fee  my  liuery  :  Hobfons  men  are  knowne 
By  their  freeze  coats.     And  you  will  dwell  with  me, 
You  muft  be  plaine,  and  leaue  off  brauery. 

John.     I  hope,  fir,  to  put  on  fuch  ciuill  confor 
mity,  as  you  fhall  not  repent  my  entertainment, 

Hob.     Pray  God  it  proue  fo. 

Grefh.     If  he  doe  reipect 
An  vncles  loue,  let  him  be  diligent. 

Hob.     Well,  M.  GreJJiam^  partly  for  your  loue, 
And  chiefly  to  fupply  my  prefent  want, 
Becaufe  you  fay  your  kinfman  is  well  feene 
Both  in  languages  and  faclorfhip, 
I  doe  intend  to  fend  him  into  France, 
In  truft  both  with  my  Merchandizes  and  my  Cam. 


you  know  no  body.  261 

John.  And  if  I  take  not  order  to  cafhier  that  and 
myfelfe  too,  a  pox  of  all  French  farthingales. 

Grefh.  How  Hand  you  minded  to  your  matters 
motion  1 

John.  Somewhat  vn willing  to  leaue  my  acquaint 
ance  ;  but  good  vncle,  I  know  you  fend  me  out  of 
loue,  and  I  hope  'twill  be  a  meanes  to  call  me  home 
the  fooner. 

Gre/h.     Pray  God  it  may. 

John.  He  want  of  my  will  elfe.  He  play  a  mer 
chants  part  with  you,  He  take  vp  French  commodities, 
veluet  kirtles,  and  taffety  fore  parts.  He  ha  that  I  go 
for,  or  He  make  halfe  the  hot-houfes  in  Deepe  fmoke 
for  this  tricke. 

Hob.  What,  are  your  bookes  made  euen  with  your 
accompts  ? 

1  Pren.     I  haue  compar'd  our  wares  with  our  re 
ceipt, 

And  find  fir,  ten  pounds  difference. 

•    Hob.     Bones  a  me  knaue, 

Ten  pounds  in  a  morning  ?  here's  the  fruit 

Of  Dagger-pyes  and  ale-houfe  guflings. 

Make  euen  your  recknings,  or  bones  a  me  knaues, 

You  mall  all  fmart  for't. 

2  Pren.     Hark  you,  fellow  Goodman  : 

Who  tooke  the  ten  pounds  of  the  country  chapman, 
That  told  my  mailer -the  new  faftrions  ? 
i  Pren.     Fore  God  not  I. 

3  Pren.     Nor  I. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  knaues, 
I  haue  pay'd  foundly  for  my  country  newes. 
What  was  his  name  ^ 

1  Pren.     Now  afore  God,  I  know  not. 

2  Pren.     I  neuer  faw  him  in  the  mop  till  now. 
Hob.     Now,  bones  a  me,  what  carelefle'  knaues 

keepe  I, 

Giue  me  the  booke,  What  habit  did  he  weare  \ 
i  Pren.    As  I  remember  me,  a  tawny  coat. 


262  If  you  know  not  me. 

Hob.     Art  fure  1  then,  fet  him  downe  John  Tawny- 

coat. 

i  Pren.     Ten  pound  in  truft  vnto  John  Tawny- 
coat. 
Hob.     Bones  a  me  man,  thefe  knaues  will  begger 

me. 
Gre/h.     Birlady,  fir,  ten  pounds  is  too    much   to 

lofe; 

But  ten  times  ten  pound  cannot  make  your  credit. 
Hob.     Thanke  God  for  all  :  when  I  came  firfl  to 

towne, 

It  would  haue  fhooke  me  (hrewdly.    But  M.  Grejham, 
How  ftands  your  difference  with  Sir  Thomas  Ram- 
fey  ? 
Are  you  made  friends  yet  ? 

Grejh.     He  is  fo  obflinate, 
That  neither  Juries  nor  commiffions, 
Nor  the  intreaties  of  his  nearefl  friends, 
Can  ftoope  him  vnto  compofition. 

Hob.     Tis  paffmg  ftrange.     Were  Hobfon  in  your 

coat, 

Ere  I'de  connime  a  penny  amongfl  lawyers, 
I'd  giu't  poore  people ;  bones  a  me  I  would. 

Grejh.     A  good  refolue ;  but  Sir  Thomas  Ramfies 

mind 

Is  of  another  temper,  and  ere  Grejham 
Will  giue  away  a  tittle  of  his  right, 
The  Law  mall  begger  me. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  man,  'twill  doe  that  quickly. 
Grejh.     To  preuent  which  courfe, 
The  Lady  Ramfey  hath  by  earnefl  fuit 
Procur'd  the  reuerend  preacher,  Doctor  Nowell, 
A  man  well  reckoned  for  his  grave  refpecl, 
To  comprimife  and  end  our  difference, 
The,  place,    the    Lumbard;     ten    of    clocke    the 

houre 

Appointed  for  the  hearing  of  our  caufe. 
Shall  I  requefl  your  friendly  company  ? 


you  know  no  body.  263 

Hob.      With    all    my  heart,   both    company   and 

purfe  : 

Bones  a  me,  knaues,  looke  better  to  my  mop : 
Men  of  our  trade  mufl  wear  good  husbands  eyes  ; 
Mongfl  many  chapmen,  there  are  few  that  buyes. 
My  leyfure  now  your  bufmeffe  attends ; 
Time's    won,   not   loft,   that's    fpent  to  make  men 

friends.  Exeunt, 

Enter  Doftor  Nowell  and  my  Lady  Ramfie. 

Lady.     Good  Mafter  Doctor  Newell,  let  your  loue 
Now  mow  itfelfe  vnto  me.     Such  as  they, 
Men  of  the  chiefeil  note  within  this  city, 
To  be  at  fuch  a  jarre,  doth  make  me  blufh, 
Whom  it  doth  fcarfe  concern :  you  are  a  good  man  ; 
Take  you  the  courfe  in  hand,  and  make  them  friends : 
'Twill  be  a  good  dayes  work,  if  fo  it  ends. 

D.  Now.     My  Lady  Ramfy,  I  haue  heard  ere  this, 
Of  their  contentions,  their  long  fuit  in  law  \ 
How  by  good   friends  they  haue  been  perfwaded 

both, 

Yet  both  but  deafe  to  faire  perfwafion. 
What  good  will  my  word  doe  with  headftrong  men  ? 
Breath,  blowne  againft  the  wind,  returnes  againe. 

Lady.     Although  to  gentlemen  and  citizens, 
They  haue  beene  fo  ram,  yet  to  fo  graue  a  man, 
Of  whom  none  fpeake.  but  fpeake  with  reuerence, 
Whofe  words  are  gather'd  in  by  euery  eare, 
As  flowers  receiue  the  dew  that  comfort  them, 
They  will  be  more  attentiue.     Pray,  take  it  in  hand  : 
Tis  a  good  deed ;  'twill  with  your  vertue  ftand. 

D.  Now.     To  be  a  make-peace  doth  become  me 

well, 

The  charitable  motion  good  in  you  ; 
And  in  good  footh,  'twill  make  me  wet  mine  eyes 
To  fee  them  euen,  haue  beene  fo  long  at  odds, 
And  by  my  meanes.     He  doe  the  beft  I  can, 
But  God  muft  bleffe  my  words,  for  man's  but  man. 


264  If  you  know  not  me. 

Enter  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie. 

Lady.     I  thank  you  heartily,  and  by  the  houre  I 

know, 

They  will  be  prefently  here  on  the  Lumbard, 
Whither  I  drew  you  for  this  intent  : 
And  fee,  Sir  Thomas  is  come  ;  pray  breake  with  him. 

D.  Now.     Good  day  to  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie. 

Ram.     M.  Deane  of  Pauls,  as  much  to  you. 
'Tis  ftrange  to  fee  you  here  in  Lumber  Street, 
This  place  of  traffique,  whereon  merchants  meet. 

D.  Now.     'Tis  not  my  cuftom  :  but  Sir  Thomas 

Enter  M.  Grefham  and  old  Hobfon. 

Hob.     Come,  come. 

Now,  body  a  me,  I  fweare  not  euery  day, 
You  are  too-too  much  to  blame  :  two  citizens 
Such  as  yourfelfe  and  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie  are, 
To  beate  yourfelues  in  law  fixe  or  feuen  yeare, 
Make  lawyers,  Turn  eyes  clerks,  and  knaues  to  fpend 
Your  money  in  a  brabling  controuerfy, 
Euen  like  two  fooles.     See  where  the  other  is, 
With  our  Deane  of  Pauls. — Ne'er  better  met ; 
We  two  as  umpiers  will  conclude  a  ftrife 
Before  the  clock  flrike  twelue,  that  now  is  eleuen, 
Lawyers  this  full  feuen  yeare  haue  brabled  in, 
And  with  a  cup  or  two  of  merry-go-do wne, 
Make   them   make   hands.      Is't  not   well  faid,  M. 

Dean? 
D.  Now.     And  I  could  wifh  it  as  well  done,  M. 

Hobfon. 
Grejh.     He  haue  you  both  know,  though  you  are 

my  friends, 

I  fcorne  my  caufe  mould  floope  or  yeeld  to  him, 
Although  he  be  reputed  Ramfie  the  rich. 

Ram.     And  Grejkam  mall  perceiue  that  Ramfies 

purfe 
Shall  make  him  fpend  the  wealth  of  Ofterley> 


you  know  no  body.  265 

But  he  fhall  know. 

Grejh.     Know,  what  fhall  I  know  ? 

Ram.     That  Ramfie  is  as  good  a  man  as  Grejham. 

Grejh.     And  Grejham  is  as  good  a  man  as  Ramfie. 

Ram.     Tut,  tut,  tut. 

GreJJt.     Tut  in   thy  teeth,   although   thou  art  a 

knight. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,  you  are  both  to  blame. 
We  two  like  friends  come  to  conclude  your  ftrife, 
And  you  like  fifh-wiues  fall  a  fcolding  here. 

D.  Now.     How  Hands  the  difference  twixt  you  my 

good  friends  ? 

Lady.     The  impatience  both  of  the  one  and  other 
Will  not  permit  to  heare  each  other  fpeake  : 
He  tell  the  caufe  for  both ;  and  thus  it  is. 
There  is  a  lordfhip  called  Ofterley, 
That  M.  Grejham  hath  both  bought  and  built  upon. 
Gre/h.     And  tis  a  goodly  manour,  M.  Deane. 
Lady.     Which  Ofterley,  before  he  dealt  therein, 
Sir  Thomas,  my  husband  here,  did  thinke  to  buy, 
And  had  giuen  earneft  for  it 

Ram.     Then  Grejham  here,  deales  with  the  land- 
feller, 
And  buyes  my  bargain  mofl  dimoneftly. 

Gre/h.     God  for  his  mercy,  touch  mine  honefty, 
Away  with  comprimife,  with  taking  vp ; 
The  law  fhall  try  my  caufe  and  honefly. 

Ram.     Twill    proue    no    better    then    it    mould, 
Grejham. 

Grejh.     Twill  proue  as  good  as  Ramfies,  Ramfie. 
Ram.     Doe  not  I  know  thy  rifmg  ? 
Grejh.     I,  and  I  know  thine. 
Ram.     Why,  mine  was  honeftly. 
Grejh.     And  fo  was  mine. 
Hob.     Heyday,  bones  a  me, 
Was't  euer  feene  two  men  to  fcold  before  ? 
Here's,  I  know  thy  rifmg,  and  I  know  thine, 
When  as  Gods  bleffing  that  hath  rais'd  them  both. 
Am  I  worfe  becaufe  in  Edwards  days, 


266  If  you  know  not  me, 

When  Popery  went  downe,  I  did  ingroffe 
Mod  of  the  beads  that  were  within  the  kingdome, 
That  when  Queen  Mary  had  renew'd  that  Church, 
They  that  would  pray  on  beads  were  forc'd  to  me  1 
I   made   them   flretch   their  purfe-flrings,  grew  rich 

thereby ; 
Beads  were  to  me  a  good  commodity. 

Grejh.     No  matter  for  your  beads,  my  right's  my 
right. 

Ram.     Yet  Grefham  mail  well  know  he  hath  done 
me  wrong. 

Grefh.    There's  law  enough  to  right  you  :  take  your 
courfe. 

D.  Now.    Reaion  being  made  mans  guide,  why  is't 

that  force 

And  violent  paflions  do  fweepe  the  foul 
Into  fuch  headlong  mifchiefs  ?  'tis  onely  this  ; 
Reafon  would  rule,  Nature  a  rebell  is. 
You  know  the  fire  of  your  contention, 
Hath  onely  cherifhing  and  is  maintain'd 
From  vile  affections,  whofe  flrength's  but  thus, 
As  foultry  heat  doth  make  vs  fhun  the  fire, 
An  extreame  cold  doth  alter  that  defire, 
All  things  that  haue  beginnings  haue  their  ends  : 
Your  hate  mufl  haue  conclufion  ;  then  be  friends. 

Hob.     Friends. — M.  Doctor  Nowell,  look  you  here, 
Here's  M.  Gre/hams  hand. 

Lady.     He  bring  the  other. 

Hob.     This  feuen  yeare  they  haue   beene  in  law 

together. 

How  much  fuch  men  as  they  in  feuen  yeares  fpend, 
Lawyers  may  laugh  at,  but  let  wife  men  judge. 

Grejh.     Friend  Hobfon. 

Ram.     Wife,  lady. 

Hob.    Bones  a  me,  He  hold  you  fafl : 
I  will  not  haue  a  couple  of  fuch  men 
Make  cackling  lawyers  rich,  and  themfelues  fooles, 
And  for  a  trifling  caufe,  as  I  am  old  Hobfon, 

Gref.     Sir  Thomas  Jtamfie. 


you  know  no  body.  267 

Ram.     Master  Gre/ham. 

Hob.     Body  of  me,  both  mail  be  fchool'd.     M.  D. 


You  know  the  caufe,  that  this  contention 
Is  onely  that  he  bought  a  peece  of  land, 
This  had  giuen  earneft  for  :  all  Adams  earth, 
And  Adams  earth  is  free  for  Adams  fons, 
And  tis  a  fhame  men  mould  contend  for  it. 
Whatere  you  fpeake  mail  for  a  fentence  fland, 
And  being  fpoke,  they  mall  make  hand  in  hand. 

D.  Now.     If  I  muft  then  decide  the  difference, 
Thus  it  mall  be  :  becaufe  that  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie 
Had  earneft  giuen  before  you  bought  the  land, 
Though  you  were  not  acquainted  with  fo  much, 
I  do  award  he  haue  an  hundred  pounds 
Towards  his  charges  ;  and  for  that  you 
Haue  both  paid  for  the  land  and  built  vpon  it, 
It  mail  continue  yours.     The  money  you  haue  fpent, 
Eyther  account  it  loft,  or  badly  lent. 

Gre/h.     Gods  precious  !  I  haue  fpent  flue  hundred 
pound. 

Ram.     And  fo  haue  I. 

Hob.     No  matter, 

The  judgement  ftands,  onely  this  verdit  too  : 
Had  you  before  the  law  forefeen  the  loffe, 
You  had  not  now  come  home  by  weeping-croffe. 
Strifes  may  as  well  haue  end  'twixt  honeft  men  ; 
Lawyers  fet  fooles  to  law,  then  laugh  at  them. 

Gre/ti.     Fore  God,  tis    true ;    and    now   I  thinke 

vpon  it, 

We  might  at  firft  haue  ended  it  by  friends, 
And  made  ourfelues  merry  with  the  money. 
But  being  done,  tis  done ;  then  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie, 
Lets  leaue  both  lofers  :  tis  but  a  thoufand  pound  j 
And  if  you  be  as  well  content  as  I, 
Here  wele  make  hands  and  let  our  anger  die. 

Hob.   Shake  hands ;  by  the  nmrry-god,  Sir  Thomas, 
what  elfe  ? 


268  If  you  know  not  me. 

Ram.     You  mow  yourfelues  our  friends,  to  make  vs 

friends ; 
Then  in  good  footh  He  not  be  obftinate. 

Lady.     Nay,  M.  Dodtor  Nowell,  join  their  hands. 
I  know  the  reuerent  regard  of  you 
Hath  temperd  both  their  hearts. 

Gre/h.     Madam,  tis  true. 
I  think  to  any  but  fo  good  a  man 
We  mould  haue  both  been  headflrong ;  but  come. 

D.  Now.     With  all  my  heart.     Long  may  you  Hue 

together, 
As  friend  mould  be  to  friend,  brother  to  brother. 

Gre/h.     Amen,  amen,  Sir  Thomas. 

Ram.     Amen,  amen.  Mafter  Gre/ham. 

Hob.     Amen,  amen,  to  you  both. 
And  is  not  this  better  then  euery  terme 
To  trot  after  lawyers  1 

Gre/h.     Good  footh,  tis  true,  if  we  could  thinke 

it  fo; 

But  tis  mans  nature,  he  defires  his  woe.         Aftorme. 
Now,  paffion-a-me,  Sir  Thomas,  a  cruel  florm ; 
And  we  flay  long,  we  ihall  be  wet  to  th'  skin. 
I  do  not  lik  't :  nay  it  angers  me, 
That  fuch  a  famous  city  as  this  is, 
Wherein  fo  many  gallant  merchants  are, 
Haue  not  a  place  to  meet  in,  but  in  this, 
Where  euery  fhowre  of  raine  muft  trouble  them. 
I  cannot  tell,  but  if  I  Hue :   lets  ftep  into  the  Popes- 
head; 

We  mall  be  dropping  dry  if  we  flay  here. 
He  haue  a  roofe  built,  and  fuch  a  roofe, 
That  merchants  and   their  wiues,  friend,  and   their 

friends, 

Shall  walk  vnderneath  it,  as  now  in  Powles. 
What  day  of  the  month  is  this  ? 

Hob.     Day,  M.  Grejham  ?  let  me  fee  ; 
I  tooke  a  fellowes  word  for  twenty  pound  : 
The  tenth  of  March,  the  tenth  of  March. 


you  know  no  body.  269 

Grefli.     The  tenth  of  March  ;  well,  if  I  liue, 
He  raife  a  worke  (hall  make  our  merchants  fay, 
Twas  a  good  fhowre  that  fell  vpon  that  day. 
How  now  lacke  ? 


Enter  John  Grefham. 

John.  Sir,  my  M.  here  hailing  prefered  me  to  be 
his  factor  into  France,  I  am  come  to  take  my  leaue  of 
you. 

Grejh.     I  thank    him   for  his   care   of   thee. — M. 

Hobfyn, 

My  kinfman's  come  to  take  his  leaue  of  me  ; 
He  tells  me  you  are  fending  him  for  France. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  knaue,  art  there  yet  1 
I  thought  thou  hadfl  beene  halfe  way  there  by  this. 

John.     I   did   but   flay  fir,  to    take  my  leaue  of 
my  vncle. 

Grejh.     O  M.  Hobfon,  he  comes  in  a  very  good 

time. 

I  was  bethinking  me  whom  I  mould  fend 
To  fetch  this  hundred  pound  I  am  fet  to  pay 
To  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie.     Nay,  as  we  are  friends, 
We'll  haue  all  couenants  kept  before  we  part. 

John.     God  grant  that  I  may  fee  it. 

Gre/h.     Here  John,  take  this  feal'd  ring  : 
Bid  Timothy  prefently  fend  me  a  hundred  pound. 

John.     I  fir. 

GreJJi.     I  am  fure  he  hath  it  ready  told  for  thee, 
Wele  (lay  here  on  the  Lumbard  till  thou  comfL 

John.     Yes,  fir. 

D.  Now.     Nay,  flay,  good  John :  thou  knowfl  my 
dwelling,  John  \ 

John.     In  Powles  Churchyard,  fir. 

D.  Now.     The  hundred  pound  thou  art  fent  for, 
bring  it  thither. 

John.     Yes  marry  will  I  fir.  Exit. 

J).  Now.     And  my  good  friends  fince  that  fo  long  a 
Jlrife 


270  If  you  know  not  me, 

Hath  end  by  my  perfwafion,  He  entreat 
My  houfe  may  entertaine  you  for  this  time  ; 
Where  with  fuch  neceffaries  we'll  pafs  the  time, 
As  God  mail  beft  be  pleafed,  and  you  contented. 
I  keepe  no  riot,  nor  you  looke  for  none, 
Onely  my  table  is  for  euery  one. 

Grejh.     A  cup  of  fack,  and  welcome,  M.  Deane  : 
Nature  is  beft  contented  with  a  meane.  Exeunt. 


Enter  Timothy  and  John  Grefham. 

John.     As  I  told  you  Timothy, 
You  mud  fend  my  vncle  flraight  a  hundred  pound  : 
He  dines  at  Doctor  Nowels,  and  gaue  me  in  charge 
To  hafte  with  the  money  after  him. 

Tim.  You  come  to  me  John  for  a  hundred  pound  : 
I  thank  my  fpirituall  maker,  I  haue  the  charge  of  many 
hundreds  of  his  now  John.  I  hope  John,  you  feare 
God. 

John.  Feare  God  ?  sfoot,  what  elfe  :  I  fear  God 
and  the  devill  too. 

Tim.  I  muft  tell  you  John,  and  I  know  it,  you 
haue  not  fed  of  the  fpirituall  food,  but  edified  by  faith, 
and  fuffered  the  tares  of  the  wild  affections  to  be 
burnt. 

John.  Foot  thou  wouldfl  not  haue  me  make  my- 
felf  a  French  martyr,  to  be  burnt  at  thefe  yeares, 
wouldfl  thou  1 

Tim.  I  haue  known  them  John,  of  our  Church, 
haue  been  burnt  for  other  fmnes  before  thy  yeares. 

John.  I  by  my  faith  Timothy  it  may  be  you  haue  ; 
for  as  clofe  as  you  carry  your  teeth  together,  with 
indeed  good  brother,  I  doe  not  thinke  but  once  in  a 
yeare  a  man  might  find  you  quartered  betwixt  the 
mouth  at  Bifhopfgate,  and  the  preaching  place  in  the 
Spittle. 

Tim.  Now ;  you  talk  of  the  Spittle,  I  muft  fay,  in 
very  deed,  I  haue  beene  in  the  Spittle. 


you  know  no  body.  271 

John.  It  is  more  like  Timothy  you  haue  beene  ac 
quainted  with  the  pox,  then. 

Tim.  But  if  you  mould  thinke  John  that  I  would 
be  there  to  commit,  deale,  or  to  fpeake  more  pro- 
phanely,  to  venture  in  the  way  of  all  flefh,  you  do 
wrong  me  being  a  brother  of  the  faith. 

John.  Come  right  yourfelfe  and  your  matter,  then, 
and  fend  him  this  one  hundred  pound.  Here's  his 
feal'd  ring ;  I  hope  a  warrant  fufficient. 

Tim.  V"pon  fo  good  fecurity,  John,  He  fit  me  to 
deliver  it.  Exit. 

John.  Spend  it !  God  fend  me  but  once  to  finger  it, 
and  if  I  doe  not  make  a  Flanders  reckoning  on't — 
and  that  is,  as  I  haue  heard  mad  wagges  fay,  receiue  it 
here,  and  reuell  it  away  in  another  place — let  me  bee 
fpit  out  of  the  roome  of  good  fellowfhip,  and  neuer 
haue  fo  much  fauor  as  to  touch  the  skirt  of  a  taffata 
petticoat. 

Tut,  I  am  young  and  mine  Vncle's  an  old  chuife ; 
And  He  not  want,  yfaith,  fince  he  hath  enough. 
I  muft  not  let  this  fame  wainfcot  face,  yea  and  nay, 
hear  me,  though. 

Enter  Timothy. 

Tim.  Here  John ;  accept  my  duty  to  my  matter. 
I  muft  tell  you  John,  I  would  not  haue  trutted  you, 
John,  without  fo  fufncient  a  difcharge. 

John.  I  am  the  leffe  beholding  vnto  you.  But 
now  I  haue  it,  becaufe  you  preacht  to  me  vpon  my 
demand  of  it,  He  be  fo  bold  to  lecture  vnto  you  vpon 
your  delivery.  Timothy,  you  know  the  prouerb,  good 
Timothy,  That  the  Jlill  fow  eates  all  the  drajfe;  and  no 
quettion  the  moft  fmoother-tongued  fellow,  the  more 
arrant  knaue  :  God  forbid  I  mould  call  you  fo,  Timo 
thy,  yet  will  I  leaue  this  for  your  further  remem 
brance. 

Vnder  the  yea  and  nay,  men  often  buy 
Much  cozenage,  finde  many  a  lie  : 


272  If  you  know  not  me, 

He  that  with  yea  and  nay  makes  all  his  fayings, 
Yet  pr ones  a  Judas  in  his  dealings, 
Shall  haue  this  written  ore  his  graue, 
Thy  life  feemed  pure,  yet  died  a  knaue. 
Tim.     Do  you  hear  John ;  you   know  the  chap- 
mans  word  in  London,  lie  trujl  you,  but  no  further 
then  I  fee  you.     You  haue  the  hundred  pound,  John, 
but,  for  that  you  haue  wronged  vs  that  loue  to  be  edi 
fied,  fl  will  goe  with  you  to  my  matter,  and  fee  the 
money  deliuered. 

John.     Why,  a  trailed  me  to  come  with  it. 
i      Tim.     I  care  not,  by  yea  and  nay  :  He  go ;  by  yea 
and  nay,  I  will. 

John.  Let  me  but  aske  thee  this  queftion  ;  whe 
ther  doft  thou  go  in  any  loue  to  thy  mafter,  or  to 
me  ? 

Tim.  Though  my  mafter  be  my  mafter,  yet  you 
haue  ftirr'd  my  ftomacke. 

John.  I  thought  there  was  the  fruit  of  your  puri- 
tane  patience.  Come,  let's  along,  and  I  do  not 
mow  your  religion  a  trick  mail  fcarce  be  digefted 
with  pepins  or  cheefe,  let  me  be  called  Cut.  Come 
along.  Exit. 

j  Enter  Honefly,  the  Sergeant,  and  Quicke. 

Hon.  Fellow  Quick,  pray  thee  haue  a  care  :  if  thou 
canft  fee  John  the  vpholfter,  I  muft  needs  arreft 
him. 

Quick.     How  much  is  the  debt  1 

Hon.     Some  fifty  pound. 

Quick.     Doft  thou  think  he  is  able  to  put  in  bail 
to  the  aclion  ? 

Hon.     I  think  fcarce  enough. 

Quick.  Why,  then,  wele  arreft  him  to  the  Popes- 
head,  call  for  the  beft  cheere  in  the  houfe,  firft  feed 
vpon  him,  and  then,  if  hee  will  not  come  off,  carry 
him  to  the  Compter.  But  if  he  will  ftretch  fome  4. 
or  5.  pound,  being  the  fum  is  fo  great,  he  mail  paffe. 


you  know  no  body.  273 

Weele  make  him  fweare  he  mail  not  tell  he  was  ar- 
relled,  and  wele  fweare  to  the  creditor  we  cannot  meet 
with  him. 

Hon.     Fore  God  thou  fayeft  well. 

Quick.  I  haue  ferued  Sent  the  Perfumer,  Tallow 
the  Currier,  Quarrell  the  Glafier,  and  fome  three  or 
four  more  of  our  poore  fmelts  fo  this  morning. 

Enter  John. 

John.  Hart  I  haue  courfl  through  two  or  three 
lanes,  yet  the  miching  flaue  folio wes  me  fo  clofe,  I 
cannot  giue  him  the  flip  for  this  hundred  pound  :  as 
God  faue  me,  now  tis  in  my  hand,  Ide  rather  be 
hang'd  then  part  from  it.  Foot,  'twill  make  a  man 
merry  half  a  yeare  together  in  France,  command 
wenches  or  anything.  Part  from  it,  quoth  you  ;  that 
were  a  left,  indeed  :  (hall  a  young  man  as  I  am,  and, 
though  I  fay  it,  indifferent  proper,  goe  into  a  flrange 
country,  and  not  mow  himfelfe  what  metall  he  is  made 
of,  when  a  comes  there  ?  I  proteft  a  very  good  hun 
dred  pound :  a  hundred  pound  will  goe  farre  in 
France,  and  when  a  man  hath  it  not  of  his  owne.  who 
mould  he  make  bold  withal  for  it,  if  he  may  not  with 
his  vncle  ?  But  fee,  if  that  thin-faced  rogue  be  not 
come  againe.  I  mufl  haue  a  trick  for  him. 

Enter  Tim. 

Tim.  For  all  your  fore-long  -too  and  fro,  by  yea 
and  nay,  He  follow  you. 

John.  Will  you  ?  There  mould  be  fergeants  here 
abouts.  Will  you  1  Lord,  if  it  be  thy  will  fend  me 
to  hit  of  one,  and  if  I  doe  not  mow  you  a  trick. — Thou 
fhouldft  be  a  fergeant  by  thy  peering  fo. 

Hon.     Why,  M.  John,  fo  I  am. 

John.     Thou  art  happily  met ;  I  am  looking  for 

one. 
What's  thy  name  ? 

1  T 


274  If  you  know  not  me, 

Hon.     My  name,  M.   John,  I  haue  beene  merry 
at  your  vncles  many  a  time  :  my  name's  Honefty. 

John.     Ifaith. 

Quick.     Nay,  He  allure  you  his  name  is  Honefty, 
and  I  am  Quick,  his  yeoman. 

John.     Honefty  \    who,   the   pox,   gaue   thee   that 

name? 

But  thou  muft  doe  an  office  for  mine  vncle. — 
Here,  Quick,  run  thou  before  and  enter  the  action ; 
There's  money  :  an  action  of  an  hundred  pound 
Againft  Timothy  Thin-beard,  M.  Grejhams  laclor. 
I  hope  I  mail  teach  you  to  dog  me. 

Quick.     An  action  againfl  Thin-beard :  I  goe.  Exit. 

John.      Here,    Honefty,    here's    money    for    thy 

arreft, 

Be  fure  to  take  good  bail,  or  clap  him  fail. 
I  hope  I  mail  mew  you  a  tricke. 

Hon.     Mum  for  that. 

John.     See  where  he  is  :  God  profper  it. 
Fallen  upon  him  like  a  hungry  dog  vpon  a  piece  of 

meat; 

And  if  this  be  not  a  tricke  to  catch  a  foole, 
A  more  knaue  learne  me,  and  He  goe  to  fchoole. 

Hon.     I  arrefl  you,  fir. 

Tim.     Arrefl  me,  thou  feruant  to  Satan,  at  whofe 
fuit? 

Hon.     At  your  mailers,  M.  Grejhams. 

Tim.     O    God,    for    thy  mercy,    M.     John,   M. 
John. 

John.    Nay,  nay,  this  100.  pound  hath  other  worke 

in  hand  for  me ; 
You  are  in  the  deuils  hands,  and  fo  agree.  Exit. 

Tim.     My  good  friend,  now  what  mull  become  of 
me? 

Hon.     Vnleffe  we  (hall  to  the  tauerne,  and  drinke 
till  you  can  fend  for  baile,  you  mull  to  the  Compter. 

Tim.     Is   there   no   difference   made   betwixt   the 
faithfull  and  the  vnfaithfull  ? 

Hon.     Faith  very  little  in  paying  of  debts ;  but  if 


you  know  no  body.  275 

you  be  lo  holy,  I  mantel  how  you  ran  fo  far  behind 
hand  with  your  mailer. 

Tim.  I  muft  confelfe  I  owe  my  matter  500. 
pound.  How  I  came  fo,  it  is  not  fit  to  lay  the  fins  of 
our  flelh  open  to  euery  eye ;  and  you  know  the  fay 
ing,  Tis  bad  to  do  euil,  but  worjl  to  boa/I  of  it ;  yet  he 
aboue  knows,  that  fometimes  as  foon  as  I  haue  come 
from  Bow  Church,  I  haue  gone  to  a  bawdy-houfe. 

Hon.  Nay  it  appeares  fo,  that  now  your  mailer 
hath  fmelt  out  your  knauery. 

Tim.  Not  to  commit  in  very  deed  good  friend,  but 
onely  to  fee  falhions ;  or  to  recreate  and  ftir  vp  our 
drowfie  appetites. 

Ent.  Qu. 

Hon.  Well,  here  comes  my  fellow  Quicke,  and, 
vnleffe  you  will  content  vs  for  Haying,  you  muft  along 
to  the  Compter. 

Tim.  I  hope  you  thinke  The  labourer  is  worthy  of 
his  hire.  We  will  Hay  here  at  the  tauern ;  and, 
Qidcke,  I  will  content  thee,  to  carry  a  Letter  to  my 
mailer,  wherein  I  will  make  him  a  reftitution  of  his 
500.  pound  by  repentance,  and  mow  him  the  way 
that  my  fraile  nature  hath  run  into. 

Hon.     Well,  we'le  be  paid  by  the  houre. 

Tim.  It  will  not  be  amiffe  if  you  buy  an  houre* 
glafs.  Exeunt. 

Enter  D.  Nowell,  Grelham,  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie, 
Hobfon,  Lady  Ramfie. 

Grejh.     Come,  M.  D.  Nowell,  now  we  haue  done 
Our  worft  to  your  good  cheere,  we'd  faine  be  gone ; 
Only  we  Hay  my  kinfman's  long  return e, 
To  pay  this  hundred  pound  to  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie. 
D.  Now.      Then  alfure  you  he  will  be  here  pre- 

fently  : 

In  the  meane  time  I  haue  drawne  you  to  this  walke, 

T  2 


276  If  you  know  not  me, 

A  gallery,  wherein  I  keepe  the  pictures 

Of  many  charitable  citizens, 

That  having  fully  fatisfied  your  bodies, 

You  may  by  them  learne  to  refrefh  your  foules. 

Grefh.     Are  all  thefe  pictures  of  good  citizens  ? 

D.  Now*     They  are ;  and  He  defcribe  to  you  fome 

of  their  births, 

How  they  beftow'd  their  Hues,  and  did  fo  liue, 
The  fruits  of  this  life  might  a  better  giue. 

Gre/h,     You  mail  gaine  more  in  mewing  this  to  vs, 
Then  you  haue  mowne. 

Lady.     Good  M.  Deane,  I  pray  you  (hew  it  vs. 

D.  Now.     This  was  the  picture  of  Sir  John  Filpot, 

fometimes  Mayor. 

This  man  at  one  time,  at  his  owne  charge, 
Leuied  ten  thoufand  fouldiers,  guarded  the  realme 
From  the  incurfions  of  our  enemies, 
And   in   the   yeare   a   thoufand  three   hundred   and 

eighty, 
When    Thomas  of    Woodftocke,    Thomas  Percy,   with 

other  noblemen, 

Were  lent  to  aide  the  Duke  of  Brittany, 
This  faid  John  Filpot  furnifh'd  out  foure  mips 
At  his  own  charges,  and  did  releafe  the  armor 
That  the  poore  foldiers  had  for  victuals  pawn'd. 
This  man  did  liue  when  Walworth  was  Lord  Maior, 
That  prouident,  valiant,  and  learned  citizen, 
That  both  attach'd  and  kild  that  traytor  Tyler ', 
For  which  good  feruice,   Walworth  the  Lord  Mayor, 
This  Filpot,  and  four  other  Aldermen, 
Were  knighted  in  the  field. 
Thus  did  he  liue  ;  and  yet,  before  he  dy'd, 
Affur'd  reliefe  for  thirteene  poore  for  euer. 

Grejh.     By  the  marry  god,  a  worthy  citizen, 
On  good  my  Dean. 

D.   Now.      This   Sir   Richard    Whittington,   three 

times  Mayor, 

Sonne  to  a  knight,  and  prentife  to  a  mercer, 
Began  the  Library  of  Gray- Friars  in  London, 


you  know  no  body.  277 

And  his  executors  after  him  did  build 

Whittington  Colledge,  thirteene  Alms-houfes  for  poor 

men, 

Repair'd  S.  Bartholomew es,  in  Smithfield, 
Glafed  the  Guildhall,  and  built  Newgate. 

Mob.     Bones  of  me,  then  I  haue  heard  lies  ; 
For  I  haue  heard  he  was  a  fcullion, 
And  rais'd  himfelf  by  venture  of  a  Cat. 

D.  Now.     They  did  the  more  wrong  to  the  gentle 
man. 

This  Sir  John  Allen,  mercer  and  Mayor  of  London, 
A  man  fo  graue  of  life,  that  he  was  made 
A  Priuy  Councillor  to  King  Henry  the  Eight. 
He  gaue  this  city  a  rich  coller  of  gold, 
That  by  the  Mayor  fucceeding  mould  be  worne ; 
Of  which  Sir  William  Laxton  was  the  firfl, 
And  is  continued  euen  vnto  this  yeare. 
A  number  more  there  are,  of  whofe  good  deeds 
This  city  florimt 

'  Grejh.     And  we  may  be  amamed, 
For  in  their  deeds  we  fee  our  owne  difgrace. 
We  that  are  citizens,  are  rich  as  they  were, 
Behold  their  charity  in  euery  llreet, 
Churches  for  prayer,  almes-houfes  for  the  poore, 
Conduits  which  bring  vs  water;  all  which  good 
We  doe  fee,  and  are  relieu'd  withal, 
And  yet  we  Hue  like  beafts,  fpend  time  and  dye, 
Leauing  no  good  to  be  remember'd  by. 

Lady.     Among  the  (lories  of  thefe  blefied  men, 
So  many  that  inrich  your  gallery, 
There  are  two  womens  pictures  :  what  were  they  1 

D.   Now.      They  are  two   that  haue   deferu'd  a 

memory 

Worthy  the  note  of  our  poflerity. 
This  Agnes  Fofter,  wife  to  Sir  A.  Fofter, 
That  freed  a  begger  at  the  grate  of  Lud-gate, 
Was  after  Mayor  of  this  moft  famous  city, 
And  builded  the  fouth  fide  of  Lud-gate  vp, 
Vpon  which  wall  thefe  verfes  I  haue  read : 


278  If  you  know  not  me, 

Deuoutfoules,  that  paffe  this  way, 

For  M.  Fojler  late  Mayor  honcftly  pray, 

And  Agnes  his  wife  to  God  confecrate, 

That  ,of  pity  this  houfe  made  for  Londoners  in  Lud- 

gate; 

S#  that  for  lodging  and  water  here  nothing  they  pay, 
As  their  keepers  Jhall  anfwer  at  dreadfull  Doomefday. 

Lady.     O,  what  a  charitable  deed  was  this  ! 

D.  Now.     This  Aue  Gibfon,  who  in  her  husbands 

life, 

Being  a  grocer,  and  a  Sheriffe  of  London, 
Founded  a  Free  School  at  Ratcliffe, 
There  to  inftnicl  threescore  poore  children ; 
Built  fourteene  almes-houfes  for  fourteene  poore, 
Leauing  for  Tutors  50.  pound  a  yeare, 
And  quarterly  for  euery  one  a  noble. 

Lady.     Why  fhould  not  I  Hue  fo,  that  being  dead, 
My  name  might  haue  a  regifler  with  theirs. 

Grejh*     Why  mould  not  all  of  vs  being  wealthy 

men, 

And  by  Gods  bleffing  onely  raifd,  but 
Caft  in  our  minds  how  we  might  them  exceed 
In  godly  workes,  helping  of  them  that  need. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  'tis  true  :  why  mould  we  Hue 
To  haue  the  poor  to  curfe  vs,  being  dead  ? 
Heauen  grant  that  I  may  Hue,  that,  when  I  die, 
Although  my  children  laugh,  the  poor  may  cry. 

Now.     If  you  will  follow  the  religious  path 
That   thefe   haue   beat  before    you,   you    mail    win 

Heauen. 
Euen  in  the  mid-day  walkes  you  mall  not  walk  the 

flreet, 

But  widows  orifons,  lazars  prayers,  orphans  thankes, 
Will  fly  into  your  eares,  and  with  a  joyfull  blufh 
Make  you  thanke  God  that  you  haue  done  for  them  ; 
When,  otherwife,  they'le  fill  your  eares  with  curfes, 
Crying,  we  feed  on  woe,  you  are  our  nurfes. 
O  is't  not  better  that  young  couples  fay, 
You  rais'd  vs  vp,  then,  you  were  our  decay  \ 


you  know  no  body.  279 


And  mothers  tongues  teach  their  firft  borne  to  fmg 
Of  your  good  deeds,  then  by  your  bad  to  wring  ? 

Hob.     No  more,  M.  D.  Nowell,  no  more. 
I  thinke  thefe  words  mould  make  a  man  of  flint 
To  mend  his  life  :  how  fay  you,  M.  Gre/ham  ? 

Grejh.     Fore  god,  they  haue  flarted  teares  into  my 

eies; 

And,  M.  D.  Nowell,  you  mail  fee 
The  words  that  you  haue  fpoke  haue  wrought  effect 

in  me. 

Lady.     And  from  thefe  women  I  will  take  a  way 
To  guide  my  life  for  a  more  blefled  flay. 

Now.     Begin  then  whilft  you  Hue  left  being  dead, 
The  good  you  giue  in  charge  be  neuer  done. 
Make  your  owne  hands   your  executors,  your    eyes 

ouerfeers, 

And  haue  this  faying  euer  in  your  mind  : — 
Women  be  forgetful,  children  be  unkind)   ' 
Executors  be  couetous,  and  take  what  they  can  finde. 
Hob.     In  my  time  I  haue  feen  many  of  them. 
Gre/Ji.     He  learn  then    to  preuent   them  whilft  I 

Hue. 
The  good  I  mean  to  do,  thefe  hands  fhall  giue. 

Enter  Quick. 

Quick.     The  matter  you  wot  of  fir  is  done. 

Grejh.     Done,  knaue  !  what's  done  ? 

Quick.     He  is  in  huckflers  handling,  fir ;  and  here 
he  commends  him  vnto  you. 

Grefli.     Many-god    knaue,  dofl  tell   me  riddles  ? 
what's  all  this  ? 

Quick.     A  thing  will  fpeak  his  owne  mind  to  you, 
If  you  pleafe  but  to  open  the  lip. 

Enter  Clown. 
Clown.     By  your  leaue,  gentlemen,  I  am  come  to 


280  If  you  know  not  me, 

fmell  out  my  matter  here. — Your  kinfman  John,  fir, 
your  kinfman  John. 

Grefh.     O  he    has    brought  the   hundred   pound. 
Where  is  he  ? 

Quick.     It  appears  by  this,  the   matter  is  of  lefs 
waight. 

Grefh.     What,  more  papers  1 

Fellow,  what  haft  thou  brought  me  here  ?  a  recanta 
tion  ? 

Clown.     It  may  be  fo,  for  he  appeares  in  a  white 
meet. 

Quick.     Indeed,  he  feems  fory  for  his  bad  life. 
Gre/h.     Bad  life  !  bad  life,  knaue  !  what  meanes  all 

this? 

M.  D.  Nowell,  pray  reade  it  for  me, 
And  lie  reade  that  my  kinfman  John  hath  fent. 
Where  is  he  knaue  1 

Clown.     Your  worfhip  is  no  wifer  then  you  mould 
be,  to  keepe  any  of  that  coat. 
Grejh.     Knaue  thou  meaneft. 
Clown.      Knaue  I  meane,  fir,   but   your   kinfman 

John, 
That  by  this  time's  well  forward  on  his  way. 

Gre/h.     Heyday  !  what  haue  we  here  ?  knauery  as 

quicke  as  eels  : 
We'le  more  of  this. 

Clown.  You  were  bed  let  me  helpe  you  hold 
it  fir. 

Gre/h.  Why  knaue,  doft  thinke  I  cannot  hold  a 
paper  ? 

Clown.  Helpe  will  do  no  hurt  j  for  if  the  knauery 
be  as  quicke  as  an  eele,  it  may  chance  to  deceiue 
you. 

Grejh.  (reads.) 
I  am  a  merchant  made  by  chance, 

And  lacking  coine  to  venture, 
Your  hundred  pound s  gone  toward  France ; 
Your  Fatlor's  in  the  Compter. 


you  know  no  body.  281 

Quick.     No,  fir;  he  is  yet  but  in    the  tauern    at 
Compter-gate  ;  but  he  mall  foon  be  in,  if  you  pleafe. 
Gre/h.     Away,  knaue,  let  me  read  on  : 
My  father  gaue  me  a  portion, 

You  keepe  away  my  due ; 
I  haue  paid  myfelfe  a  part  tofpend  : 

Herds  a  dif charge  for  you. 
Precious  cole  here's  a  knaue  round  with  me. 
D.  Now.     Your  faclor  Timothy  Thinbeard,  writes  to 

you, 

Who,  as  it  feems,  is  arrefled  at  your  fute. 
Grejh.     How  !  at  my  fute  ? 

D.  Now.     And  here  confeffeth  by  ufmg  bad  com 
pany 

He  is  run  behind  hand  flue  hundred  pound. 
And  doth  intreat  you  would  be  good  to  him. 

Grejh.     How  !  run  behind  hand  fiue  hundred  pound, 
And  by  bad  company  !     M.  Dean  of  Powles, 
He  is  a  fellow  feemes  fo  pure  of  life, 
I  durft  haue  trufted  him  with  all  I  had. 

D.  Now.       Here    is    fo    much   vnder    his   owne 
hand. 

Grejh.     Ha,  let  me  fee. — Who  fet   you  to   arreft 
him  ? 

Quick.     Why,  your  kinfman  John  ;  your  kinfman 
John. 

Grejh.       Ha,    ha,    ifaith,    I    fmell    the    knauery, 

then. 

This  knaue  belike  miftrufting  of  my  kinfman, 
Would  come  along  to  fee  the  money  giuen  me  : 
Mad  Jack)  hauing  no  tricke  to  put  him  off, 
Arrefls  him  with  a  lergeant,  at  my  fute. 
There  went  my  hundred  pound  away  :  this  Thinbeard, 

then, 
Knowing  himfelfe   to  haue  play'd   the   knaue    with 

me, 

And  thinking  I  had  arrefled  him  indeed, 
Confeffeth  all  his  trickes  with  yea  and  nay. 
So,  here's  fiue  hundred  pound  come,  one  run  away. 


282  If  you  know  not  me, 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  M.  Gre/ham,  is  my  man  John 
gone  away  with  your  hundred  pound  ? 

Clown.     Faith  it  appeares   fo,  by  the  acquittance 

that  I  brought. 
Grejh.     No  matter,  M.   Hobfon  :  the  charge  you 

truft  him  with 

He  fee  he  mail  difcharge.     I  know  he  is  wilde, 
Yet,  I  muft  tell  you,  He  not  fee  him  iunke  ; 
And,  afore-god,  it  hath  done  my  heart  more  good, 
The  knaue  had  wit  to  do  fo  mad  a  tricke, 
Then  if  he  had  profited  me  twice  fo  much. 

Ram.     He    euer    had    the    name   of   mad  Jack 
Grejham. 

Grejh.     He's  the  more  like  his  vncle.     Sir  Thomas 

Ramfey, 

When  I  was  young,  I  doe  remember  well, 
I  was  as  very  a  knaue  as  he  is  now. 
Sirrah,  bring  Thin-beard  hither  to  me  ;  and  Sir  Thomas 

Ramfey, 

Your  hundred  pound  He  fee  you  paid  myfelfe. 
Ha,  ha  !  mad  Jack,  gramercy  for  this  flight : 
This  hundred  pounds  makes  me  thy  vncle  right. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  John  Tawnie-coat. 

Taw.  I,  fure,  'tis  in  this  lane :  I  turned  on  the 
right  hand,  coming  from  the  Stockes.  Nay,  though 
there  was  mailer  careleffe,  man  careleffe,  and  all  care- 
leffe,  He  ftill  be  honefl  John,  and  fcorne  to  take  any 
mans  ware  but  He  pay  them  for  it.  I  warrant  they 
thinke  me  an  arrant  knaue,  for  going  away  and  not 
paying  ;  and  in  my  confcience  the  mafter  cudgeld  the 
men,  and  the  men  the  mafter,  and  all  about  me  ; 
when,  as  (I  fweare)  I  did  it  innocently.  But,  fure, 
this  is  the  lane  :  theres  the  Windmill ;  theres  the  Dogs 
head  in  the  pot ;  and  heres  the  Fryer  whipping  the 
Nunnes  arfe.  Tis  hereabout  fure. 


you  know  no  body.  283 

Enter  in  thejhop  two  of  Hobfons  folkes>  and  opening 
thejhop. 

1.  Come  fellow   Crack,  haue  you  forted  vp  thofe 
wares  ? 

Markt  them  with  54  1     They  muft  be  packt  up. 

2.  I  haue  done't  an  houre  ago.     Haue  you  feald 
up 

My  mailers  letter  to  his  fac~lor,  John  Grejham  ? 
It  is  at  Deepe,  in  France,  to  fend  him  matches, 
For  he  muft  vfe  them  at  Briftow  fair. 

i.     I,  and  the  poll  receiued  it  two  houres  fince. 

Taw.  Sure,  it  is  hereabout  :  the  kennell  was  on 
my  right  hand;  and  I  thinke,  in  my  confcience,  I 
fhall  neuer  haue  the  grace  of  God  and  good  lucke,  if 
I  do  not  pay  it.  S'foot,  look  here,  look  here,  I  know 
this  is  the  mop,  by  that  fame  ilretch-halter.  O  my 
mafters,  by  your  leaue,  good  fellows. 

i.     You  are  welcome,  fir ;  you  are  welcome. 

Taw.  Indeed  thats  the  common  faying  about  Lon 
don,  if  men  bring  money  with  them, 

T.  O,  fir,  money  cuflomers  to  vs  are  bell  wel 
come. 

Taw.  You  fay  well ;  fo  they  mould  be.  Come, 
turn  o're  your  books  :  I  am  come  to  pay  this  fame  ten 
pound. 

i.  And  we  are  ready  to  receiue  money.  What 
might  we  call  your  name  ? 

Taw.  Why,  my  name  is  John  Goodfellow.  I  hope 
I  am  not  afhamed  of  my  name. 

1.  Your  kinne  are  the  more  beholding  vnto  you. 
Fellow   Crack)  turn  o'er  the  kalender,  and  looke  for 
John  Goodfellow. 

2.  What  comes  it  to  ? 
Taw.     Ten  pound. 

i.  You  will  haue  no  more  wares  with  you,  will  you 
fir  I 

Taw.  Nay,  prethee,  not  too  fafl :  let's  pay  for  the 
old,  before  we  talke  of  any  new. 


284  If  you  know  not  me, 

2.     John  Goodfellow  ? — Fellow  Nimblechaps,  hen. 
no  fuch  name  in  all  our  booke. 

i.  I  think  thou  art  mop-eyed  this  morning :  git.c 
me  the  bool^.  Letter  I,  letter  I,  letter  I— When  had 
you  your  ware  1 

Taw.     I  had  it  fome  ten  da  yes  ago. 

i.  Your  name's  John  Goodfellow,yc>Uiiay. — Letter 
I,  letter  I,  letter  I. — You  do  not  come  to  mocke  vs,  do 
you  ? — Letter  I,  letter  I,  letter  I. — By  this  hand,  if  I 
thought  you  did,  I  would  knock  you  about  the  ears, 
afore  we  parted. — Fellow  Crack,  get  me  a  cudgel 
ready.  Letter  I,  letter  I,  letter  I. — Sfoot !  here's  no 
luch  name  in  all  our  booke.  Do  you  heare,  fellow  ? 
Are  you  drunke,  this  morning,  to  make  vs  looke  for 
moonftiine  in  the  water  1 

Taw.  Fut !  art  not  thou  drunk,  this  morning  1 
Canft  not  receiue  the  money  that's  due  to  thee  ?  I 
tell  thee,  I  had  ten  pounds  worth  of  ware  here. 

1.  And  I  tell  thee,   John  Goodfellow^  here's  no 
fuch  name  in  our    booke,  nor    no  fuch   ware  deli- 
uered. 

Taw.  Gods  precious  !  theres  a  jefl,  indeed  :  fo  a 
man  may  be  fworne  out  of  himfelf.  Had  I  not  ten 
pounds  worth  of  ware  here  ? 

2.  No,  goodman  goofe  that  you  had  not. 

Taw.  Heyda  !  here's  excellent  fellows,  are  able  to 
make  their  mailers  haire  grow  through  his  hood  in  a 
moneth  !  They  can  not  only  careleffly  deliuer  away 
his  ware,  but  alfo  they  will  not  take  money  for  it  when 
it  comes. 

i.  Do  you  hear,  hoyden  1  and  my  matter  were  not 
in  the  next  roome,  Ide  knocke  you  about  th'  eares  for 
playing  the  knaue  with  vs,  ere  you  parted. 

Taw.  I  thinke  your  matter  had  jnore  need  (if  he 
lookt  well  about  him)  to  knock  you  for  playing  the 
Jackes  with  him.  Theres  your  ten  pounds  ;  tell  it  out 
with  a  wanion,  and  take  it  for  your  pains. 

i.  Fut!  heres  a  mad  flaue,  indeed,  will  giue  vs 
ten  pound,  in  fpite  of  our  teeths. 


you  know  no  body.  285 

2.  Fellow  Nimblechaps,  alas  !  let  the  poore  fellow 
alone :  it  appears  he  is  befides  him. 

Taw.  Mafle,  I  thinke  you  will  fooner  make  your 
matter  flarke  mad,  if  you  play  thus  with  euerybody. 


Enter  old  Hobfon. 

HoL     Heyda,  bones-a-me,  here's  lazy  knaues  ! 
Paft  eight  a  clock,  and  neither  ware  forted, 
Nor  mop  fwept. 

Taw.  Good  morrow  to  you,  fir  :  haue  you  any 
more  flomacke  to  receiue  money  then  your  men  haue 
this  morning  ? 

Hob.  Money  is  welcome  chaffer  :  welcome,  good 
friend,  welcome,  good  friend. 

Taw.  Here's  M.onfiewr  Matafiart  your  man  fcornes 
to  receiue  it. 

Hob.     How,  knaues  !  thinke  fcorne  to  receiue  my 

money  ? 
Bones-a-me,  growne  proud,  proud  knaues,  proud  ? 

i.  I  hope  we  know,  fir,  you  do  not  vfe  to  bring  vp 
your  feruants  to  receiue  money  vnleffe  it  be  due  vnto 
you. 

Hob.     No,  bones-a-me,  knaues,  not  for  a  million. 
Friend,    come    to    pay   me   money  ?    for   what,   for 

what? 
For  what  come  you  to  pay  me  money  1 

Taw.     Why,    fir,    for   ware    I    had   fome  moneth 

ago, 

Being  pins,  points,  and  laces, 
Poting-flicks  for     young  wiues,   for  young  wenches 

glaffes, 

Ware  of  all  forts,  which  I  bore  at  my  back, 
To  fell  where  I  come,  with  what  do  you  lacke  ? 
What  do  you  lacke  ?  what  do  you  lacke  ? 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,    a   merry   knaue.      What's  thy 
name  % 

Taw.     My  name,  fir,  is  John  Goodfcllow^ 


286  If  you  know  not  me, 

An  honefl  poore  pedler  of  Kent. 

Hob.     And  had  ten  pound  in  ware  of  me  a  moneth 

ago? 
Bones   giue  me  the  booke.      John    Goodfellow,    of 

Kent. 
Taw.     Oh,  fir,  nomine  <5^   natura,   by   name   and 

nature, 

I  am  as  well  known  for  a  good  fellow  in  Kent, 
As  your  city  Sumner's  known  for  a  knaue. 
Come,  fir,  will  you  be  telling  ? 
Hob.     Tell  me  no  tellings  :  bones-a-me  here's  no 

fuch  matter. 
Away,  knaue,  away,  thou  owefl  me  none.    Out  of  my 

doors. 

Taw.  How  owe  you  none,  fay  you  !  This  is  but  a 
trick  to  try  my  honefly  now. 

Hob.     There's    a    groat :    goe    drink    a    pint    of 

fack; 

Comfort  thyfelf ;  thou  art  not  well  in  thy  wits. 
God  forbid,  pay  me  ten  pound  not  due  to  me. 

Taw.  Gods  dickens,  heres  a  jeft,  indeed  !  matter 
mad,  men  mad.  and  all  mad  :  here's  a  mad  houfhold. 
Do  you  hear,  M.  Hobfon,  I  do  not  greatly  care  to  take 
your  groat,  and  I  care  as  little  to  fpend  it ;  yet  you 
mail  know  I  am  John,  honefl  John,  and  will  not  be 
outfac't  of  my  honefly.  Here  I  had  ten  pounds  worth 
of  ware,  and  I  will  pay  for  it. 

Hob.     Nimblechaps  !  call  for  help  JSiimblechaps. 
Bones  of  me,  the  man  begins  to  raue. 

2.     Mafler  I  have  found  out   one  John  Tawny- 
coat, 
Had  ten  pounds'  worth  of  ware  a  moneth  ago. 

Taw.     Why,  that's  I,  that's  I !  I  was  John  Tawny- 
coat  then, 

Though  I  am  John  Gray-coat  now. 
Mob.     John  Tawny-coat  /  Welcome,  John  Tawny- 
coat, 

Taw.     'Foot !  do  you  think  Tie  be  outfac'd  of  my- 
honefly  ? 


you  know  no  body.  287 

Hob.      A   ftool    for    John    Tawny-coat,    welcome 

John  Tawny-coat; 

Honefl   John   Tawny-coat,   welcome   John   Tawny- 
coat. 
Taw.     Nay,  He  aflure  you,  we  were  honeft,  all  the 

generation  of  us. 
There  tis,  to  a  doit,  I  warrant  you :  you  need  not  tell 

it  after  me. 

Foot !  do  you  think  He  be  outfac't  of  mine  honefly  ? 
Hob.     Thou  art  honeft  John,  honeft  John  Tawny- 
coat. 

Having  fo  honeftly  paid  for  this, 
Sort  up  his  pack  ftraight  worth  twentie  pound. 
He  truft  thee,  honeft  John  ;  Hobfon  will  truft  thee  ; 
And  any  time  the  ware  that  thou  doft  lack, 
Money,  or  money  not,  He  ftuffe  thy  packe. 

Taw.     I  thanke  you,  Mailer  Hobfon  ;   and  this  is 
the  fruit  of  honeftie. 


Enter  a  Purfeuant. 

Purf.     By  your  leaue  M.  Hobfon,  I  bring  this  fauour 

to  you. 

My  royal  miftreffe,  Queene  Elizabeth, 
Hath  fent  to  borrow  a  hundred  pound  of  you. 

Hob.     How  !   bones  a  me,  Queen  know  Hobfon, 

Queene  know  Hobfon  ? 
And  fend   but  for   one   hundred   pound  1       Friend 

come  in ; 
Come  in,  friend ;   mall  haue  two ;    Queen  mail  haue 

two. 

If  Queene  know  Hobfon  once,  her  Hobfons  purfe 
Muft  be  free  for  her ;  fhee  is  Brands  nurfe. 
Come  in,  good  friend.     Ha  !  Queene  know  Hobfon  ] 
Nay,  come  in,  John  ;  wele  dine  together  too. 

Taw.     Make  vp  my  packe,  and  lie   along   from 

you, 

Singing  merrily  on  the  way, 
Points,  pins,  gloues,  and  purfes, 


288  If  you  know  not  ine> 

Poting-fticks,  and  black  j  cat-rings, 
Cambricks,  lawns,  and  pretty  things. 
Come,  maids,  and  buy,  my  backe  doth  cracke, 
I  haue  all  that  you  want ;  what  do  you  lack  ? 
What  do  you  lacke  ? 

Enter  Grelham  and  Sword-bearer. 

Grejh.     Our  cities  fword-bearer,  and  my  very  good 

friend, 

What,  haue  our  honorable  Court  of  Aldermen 
Determined  yet  ?  lhall  Grejham  haue  a  place 
To  erect  this  worthy  building  to  his  name, 
May  make  the  city  fpeake  of  him  for  euer  ] 

Sword.    They  are  in  earned  counfell  fir  about  it. 

Grejh.     Be  you  my  agent  to  and  fro  to  them  : 
I  know  your  place,  and  will  be  thankfull  to  you.     . 
Tell  them,  I  wait  here  in  the  Mayors  Court ; 
Beneath  in  the  Sheriffs  Court  my  workmen  waite, 
In  number  full  an  hundred  :  my  frame  is  ready ; 
All  onely  flay  their  pleafure  ;  then  out  of  hand 
Vp  goes  my  work,  a  credit  to  the  land. 

Sword.     I  mail  be  dutiful  in  your  requefl.        Exit. 

Gre/h.     Do,  good  M.    Sword-bearer. — Now  when 

this  worke  is  rais'd 
It  mall  be  in  the  pleafure  of  my  life 
To  come  and  meet  our  merchants  at  their  houre, 
And  fee  them,  in  the  greatefl  florme  that  is, 
Walke  dry,  and  in  a  worke  I  rais'd  for  them  ; 
Or  fetch  a  turne  within  my  vpper  walke, 
Within  which  fquare  I  have  orderd  fhops  mail  be 
Of  neat,  but  necefiarieft  trades  in  London  : 
And  in  the  richefl  fort  being  garnifht  out, 
Twill  do  me  good  to  fee  fhops,  with  faire  wiues 
Sit  to  attend  the  profit  of  their  husbands  ; 
Young  maids  brought  vp,  young  men  as  prentifes. 
Some  mail  proue  maflers,  and   fpeake  in   GreJJiams 

praife, 
In  GreJJiams  worke  we  did  our  fortunes  raife. 


you  know  no  body.  289 

For  I  dare  fay,  both  country  and  the  Court 
For  wares  it   l\  be  beholding  to  this  worke. 

Enter  Sword-bearer,  Lord  Mawr,  and  Sheriffs. 

Sword.     Mailer  Ore/ham, 

Thus  fends  the  Lord  Maior  and  the  Court  of  Alder 
men. 
Ram.     Or  rather  come   to  bring  the  newes  our- 

felfe. 

We  haue  determin'd  of  a  place  for  you 
In  Cornhill,  the  delightful  of  this  city, 
Where  you  (hall  raife  your  frame.  The  city  at  their 

charge 

Hath  bought  the  houfes  and  the  ground, 
And  paid  for  both  three  thoufand  fiue  hundred  three 

and  twenty  pound. 

Order  is  giuen  the  houfes  mail  be  fold 
To  any  man  will  buy  them  and  remoue  them. 

Sher.     Which  is  already  done,  being  fourfcore  houf- 

holds, 
Were  fold  at  four  hundred  threefcore  and  eighteene 

pounds. 

The  plot  is  alfo  plained  at  the  cities  charges, 
And  we,  in  name  of  the  whole  citizens, 
Do  come  to  giue  you  full  poffefllon 
Of  this  our  purchafe  whereon  to  build  a  Burfe, 
A  place  for  merchants  to  affemble  in, 
At  your  owne  charges. 

GreJJi.     Matter  Sheriff,  He  do't ;  and  what  I  fpend 

therein, 

I  fcorne  to  lofe  day ;  neglect  is  a  fin. — 
Where  be  my  workmen  1 

Enter  Workmen. 

Work.     Here,  here,  with  trowel  and  tools  ready 
at-  hand. 

i  U 


290  If  you  know  not  we* 

Enter  D.  Nowell  and  Hobfon. 

Grejh.     Come,  fellows,  come  : 
We  haue  a  frame  made,  and  we  haue  roome 
To  raife  it.     But  M.  D.  Nowell  and  Mafter  Hobfon^ 
We  haue  your  prefence  in  a  happy  time  ; 
This  feuenth  of  June,  we  the  firft  ftone  will  lay 
Of  our  new  Burfe.     Giue  vs  fome  brickes. 
Here's  a  brick,  here's  a  fair  foueraign. 
Thus  I  begin  ;  be  it  hereafter  told, 
I  laid  the  firfl  ftone  with  a  piece  of  gold. 
He  that  loues  Grejliam  follow  him  in  this  : 
The  gold  we  lay  due  to  the  workmen  is. 

Work.     Oh,  God  blefs  M.  Grejham  \     God  blefs 
M.  Grejham  \ 

Ram.     The  Maior  of  London,  M.  Grejham,  follows 

you. 

Vnto  your  firft  this  fecond  I  doe  fit. 
And  lay  this  piece  of  gold  a- top  of  it. 

Sher.     So  do  the  Sheriffs  of  London  after  you. 

Hob.     And,  bones-a-me,  old  Hobfon  will  be  one. 
Here,  fellows,  there's  my  gold  j  giue  me  a  ftone. 

Work.     God  forbid,  a  man  of  your  credit  mould 
want  ftones. 

D.  Now.     Is   this  the  plot,  fir,  of  your  work  in 
hand? 

Grejh.     The  whole  plot,  both  of  form  and  fafhion. 

D.  Now.     In  footh,  it  will  be  a  goodly  edifice  ; 
Much  art  appears  in  it  :  in  all  my  time, 
I  haue  not  feen  a  work  of  this  neat  form. 
What  is  this  vaultage  for,  is  fafhion'd  here  ? 

Gre/h.     Stowage  for  merchants  ware,  and  ftrangers 

goods, 
As  either  by  exchange  or  other  ways  are  vendible. 

D.  Now.     Here  is  a  middle   round,   and  a  faire 

fpace, 

The  round  is  grated,  and  the  fpace 
Seems  open  :  your  conceit  for  that  1 

Grejh.    The  grates  giue  light  vnto  the  cellerage, 


you  know  no  body.  291 

Vpon  the  which  He  haue  my  friends  to  walk, 

When    Heauen    giues    comfortable    rain    vnto    the 

earth, 
For  that  I  will  haue  couered. 

D,  Now.     So  it  appears. 

Gre/h.     This  fpace,  that  hides  not  heauen  from  vs, 
Shall  be  fo  flill ;  my  reafon  is, 
There's  fummers  heat  as  well  as  winters  cold ; 
And  I  allow,  and  here's  my  reafon  for't, 
,Tis  better  to  be  bleakt  by  winters  breath, 
Then  to  be  ftifled  vp  with  fummers  heat. 
In  cold  weather,  walk  dry,  and  thick  together, 
And  euery  honefl  man  warm  one  another : 
In  fummer,  then,  when  too  much  heat  offends, 
Take  air,  a  Gods  name,  merchants  or  my  friends. 

D.  Now.     And  what  of   this    part   that  is  ouer 
head? 

GreJJi.     M.  Deane,  in  this 
There  is  more  ware  there  then  in  all  the  reft. 
Here,  like  a  parifh  for  good  citizens 
And  their  faire  wiues  to  dwell  in,  He  haue  (hops, 
Where  euery  day  they  mail  become  themfelues 
In  neat  attire ;  that  when  our  courtiers 
Shall  come  in  trains  to  trace  old  Grejhams  Burfe, 
They  (hall  haue  fuch  a  girdle  of  chafte  eyes, 
And  fuch  a  globe  of  beauty  round  about, 
Ladies  (hall  blufh  to  turn  their  vizards  off, 
And    courtiers    fweare    they    ly'd    when    they    did 
fcoffe. 

D.  Now.     Kind  M.  Grefhamy  this  fame  worke  of 

yours 

Will  be  a  tombe  for  you,  after  your  death  ; 
A  benefit  to  tradefmen,  and  a  place 
Where  merchants  meet,  their  traffique  to  maintain, 
Where  neither  cold  (hall  hurt  them,  heat,  nor  rain. 

Gre/h.     O,  Mailer  Nowell,  I  did  not  forget 
The  troublefome  (lorme  we  had  in  Lumber-Street, 
That  time  Sir  Thomas  and  I  were  aduerfaries, 
And  you  and  Mailer  Hobfon  made  vs  friends. 

U    2 


292  If  yoii  know  not  me, 

I  then  did  fay,  and  now  He  keep  my  word. 
I  faw  a  want,  and  I  would  help  afford : 
Nor  is  my  promife  giuen  you  when  you  fhew'd 
That  ranke  of  charitable  men  to  vs, 
That  I  would  follow  their  good  actions, 
Forgot  with  me  ;  but  that  before  I  die 
The  world  mail  fee  He  leaue  like  memory. 

A  blafing  ftar. 

Hob.     Fore-god,  my   lord,   haue  you   beheld   the 

like? 
Look  how  it  ftreaks  !  what  do  you  think  of  it  1 

Sher.     Tis  a  flrange  comet.     M.  Hobfon, 
My  time,  to  my  remembrance,  hath  not  feene 
A  fight  fo  wonderful. — Mafter  Doctor  Nowell, 
To  iudge  of  thefe  things  your  experience 
Exceedeth  ours  \  what  do  you  hold  of  it  ? 
For  I  haue  heard  that  meteors  in  the  air, 
Of  leffer  form,  lefle  wonderfull  than  thefe, 
Rather  foretell  of  dangers  imminent, 
Then  flatter  vs  with  future  happinefs. 

D.  Now.     Art  may  difcourfe  of  thefe  things  ;  none 

can  iudge 

Directly  of  the  will  of  Heauen  in  this  : 
And  by  difcourfe  thus  far  I  hold  of  it. 
That  this  flrange  ftar  appearing  in  the  North, 
And  in  the  conftellation  of  Cajfiopey, 
Which,  with  three  fixed  ftars  commixt  to  it, 
Doth  make  a  figure  geometricall, 
Lozenge-wife,  called  of  the  learned  JRombus, 
Conducted  with  the  hourely  moon  of  Heauen, 
And  neuer  altered  from  the  fixed  fphere, 
Foretels  fuch  alteration,  that,  my  friends, 
Heauen  grant  with  this  firfl  fight  our  forrow  ends. 

Hob.     Gods  will  be  done.     Matter  Dean,  hap  what 

hap  will, 
Death  doth  not  fear  the  good  man  but  the  ill. 

Gre/h.     Well  faid,  M.  Hobfon  : 
Let's  Hue  to-day,  that  if  death  come  to-morrow, 
He's  rather  meffenger  of  joy  then  forrow. 


you  know  no  body.  293 


Enter  a  Fttftor. 

Now,  fir,  what  news  from  Barbary  1 

Facl.     Vnwelcome  news,  fir.  The  King  of  Barbary 
is  (lain. 

Grefi.     Ha  !  flain  by  treafon,  or  by  war  1 

Faff.     By  war,  in  that  renowned  battell 
Swift  fame  defires  to  carry  through  the  world, 
The  battle  of  Alcaf&r,  wherein  two  kings, 
Befides  the  King  of  Barbary^  were  flain, 
Kings  of  Morocco  and  of  Portugal, 
With  Stewkeley,  that  renowned  Englifhman, 
That  had  a  fpirit  equal  with  a  king, 
Made  fellow  with  thefe  kings  in  warlike  ftrife, 
Honord  his  country,  and  concluded  life. 

Grefh.     Cold  news,  birlady. — The  venture,  Gentle 
men, 

Of  threefcore  thoufand  pound  with  that  dead  king, 
Lies  in  a  hazard  to  be  wonne  or  loft. 
In  what  eftate  confifts  the  kingdom  now  ? 

FaEl.     In  peace ;  and  the  fucceeding  happy  heire 
Was    crown'd  then   king,   when    I   took  mip    from 
thence. 

Gre/h.     To  that  king,  then,  be  meflenger  from  vs, 
And  by  the  found  of  trumpet  fummon  him. 
Say  that  thy  mafter,  and  a  London  merchant, 
Craues  due  performance  of  fuch  couenants, 
Confirmed  by  the  late  King  vnto  ourfelf, 
That  for  the  fum  of  threefcore  thoufand  pound, 
The  trafficke  of  his  fugars  mould  be  mine. 
If  he  refufe  the  former  bargain  made, 
Then,  freely  claim  the  money  that  we  lent : 
Say  that  our  coin  did  ftead  the  former  king ; 
If  he  be  kinde,  we  haue  as  much  for  him. 

Hob.     By    the    many-god,    it    was    a    dangerous 

day  : 
Three  kings,  befide  young  Stewkeley,  ilaine  : 


294  If  y°u  know  not  me, 

He  tell  you,  my  Lord  Maior,  what  I  haue  feen. 

When  fword  and  bucklers  were  in  queftion, 

I    haue   feen   that  ..Stewkeley   beat    a   ftreet    before 

him. 

He  was  fo  familiar  growne  in  euery  mouth, 
That  if  it  hapned  any  fighting  were, 
The  queftion  ftraight  was,  was  not  Stewkeley  there  ? 
Bones-a-me,  he  would  hew  it ! — Now,  what  news  with 

you? 

Enter  a  Boy. 
Boy.     Heres  a  letter  fent  you  from  John   Gref- 


Hob.     O,  an  anfwer  of  a  letter  that  I  fent, 
To  fend  me  matches  againfl  Briftow  fair, 
If  then  any  were  come. 

Boy.  I  cannot  tell  fir  well  what  to  call  it  ; 
but  inflead  of  matches  of  ware,  when  you  read  your 
letter,  I  belieue  you  will  find  your  factor  hath  matcht 
you. 

Hob.     What's  here  ?  what's  here  ?     Reade  the  letter. 

As  neare  as  I  could  gheffe  at  your  meaning,  I  haue 
laboured  to  furnijh  you,  and  haue  fent  you  tivothoufand 
pounds  worth  of  match. 

How  1  bones,  knaue,  two  thoufand  pounds  worth  ol 
match  ! 

Boy.  Faith,  mailer,  neuer  chafe  at  it ;  for  if  you 
cannot  put  it  away  for  match,  it  may  be  the  hangman 
will  buy  fome  of  it  for  halters. 

Hob.     Bones  a  me,  I  fent  for  matches  of  ware,  fel 
lows  of  ware. 

Boy.  And  match  being  a  kind  of  ware,  I  thinke 
your  factor  hath  matcht  you. 

Hob.     The   blafing   ftar   did  not  appeare  for  no 
thing. 

I  fent  to  be  forted  with  matches  of  ware, 
And  he  hath  fent  me  nought  but  a  commodity  of 
Match, 


you  know  no  body.  295 

And  in  a  time  when  there's  no  vent  for  it. 

What  do  you  think  on't,  gentlemen  1 

I  little  thought  J-ack  would  haue  ferued  me  fo. 

Gre/h.     Nay,   Mafter  Hobfon,  grieue  not  at  Jacks 

croffe ; 
My  doubt  is  more,  and  yet  I  laugh  at  loffe. 

Exeunt. 


Enter  2.  Lords, 

1.  Lord.     You  haue  trauel'd,  fir:  how  do  you  like 
this  building  1 

Truft  me,  it  is  the  goodliefl  thing  that  I  haue  feen  : 
England  affords  none  fuch. 

2.  Lord.     Nor  Chriflendom ; 

I  might  fay,  all  the  world  has  not  his  fellow. 
I  haue  been  in  Turkies  great  Conftantinople ; 
The  merchants  there  meet  in  a  goodly  temple, 
But  haue  no  common  Burfe  :  in  Rome,  but  Rome's 
Built  after  the  manner  of  Frankford  and  Embden  : 
There,  where  the  greateft  marts  and  meeting  places 
Of  merchants  are,  haue  ftreets  and  pent-houfes, 
And,  as  I  might  compare  them  to  themfelues, 
Like  Lumber  Street  before  this  Burfe  was  built. 

Enter  Sir  Thomas  Ramfey. 

1.  Lord.     I  haue  feen  the  like  in  Briftout. 
Ram.     Good  morrow  to  your  honors. 

2.  Lord.     Thanks  to  my  good  Lord  Maior. 
We  are  gazing  here  on  M.  Grejhams  work. 

Ram.     I   think    you    haue  not  feene   a  goodlieo: 

frame. 
2.  Lord.     Not  in  my  life;  yet   I   haue  beene  in 

Venice, 

In  the  Realto  there,  called  S.  Marks  \ 
Tis  but  a  bable,  if  compard  to  this. 
The  neareft  that  which  moft  refembles  this, 


296  If  you  know  not  me, 

Is  the  great  Burfe  in  Antwerp,  yet  not  comparable 
Either  in  height  or  widenefs,  the  fair  cellerage, 
Or  goodly  (hops  aboue.     Oh,  my  Lord  Maior, 
This  Gre/ham  hath  much  graced  your  city,  London  : 
His  fame  will  long  outliue  him. 

i.  Lord.     It  is  reported 
You,  Sir  Thomas  Ramfey,  are  as  rich  as  he  : 
This  mould  incite  you  to  fuch  noble  works, 
To  eternize  you. 

Ram.     Your  lordfhip  pleafes   to  be  pleafant  with 

me  : 

I  am  the  meanefl  of  a  many  men 
In  this  faire  city.     Matter  Grejhams  fame 
Drawes  me  as  a  fpeclator  amongfl  others, 
To  fee  his  cofl,  but  not  compare  with  it. 

1.  Lord.     And  it  is  cofl  indeed. 

2.  Lord.     But  when,  to    fit   thefe  empty  roomes 
about  here, 

The  pictures  grauen  of  all  the  Englifh  kings 
Shall  be  fet  ouer,  and  in  order  placd, 
How  glorious  will  it  then  be  ? 

i.  Lord.     Admirable. 

Ram.      Thefe    very    pictures    will    furmount   my 
wealth. 

1.  Lord.     But  how  will  Matter  Gre/ham  name  this 
place  ? 

2.  Lord.     I   heard    my  Lord   of   Lecejler    to    the 
Queene 

Highly  commend  this  worke,  and  (he  then  promift 
To  come  in  perfon,  and  here  chriften  it : 
It  cannot  haue  a  better  godmother. 
This  Gre/ham  'is  a  royall  citizen. 

Ram.     He  feafts    this  day  the  Ruffian  Ambaffa- 

dor  : 
I  am  a  bidden  guett ;  where,  if  it  pleafe  you 

i.  Lord.     Good  Sir  Thomas, 

We  know  what  you  would  fay.     We  are  his  guetts, 
Inuited  to ;  yet  in  our  way  we  tooke 


yoii  know  no  body.  297 

This  wonder,  worth  our  paines  :  it  is  our  way 

To  Bijhopfgate,  to  Mailer  Grefhams  houfe ; 

Thither  fo  pleafe  you,  wele  affociate  you.          Exeunt. 

Enter  M.  Grefham,  leading  in  the  Ambaffador.  Muficke, 
and  a  banquet  ferued  in  :  the  Ambaffador  s  fet. 

Enter  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie,  the  2.  Lords,  my  Lady 
Ramfie,  the  Waits  in  Sergeants  gowns,  with  one  In 
terpreter. 

Grejh.     Lords  all  at  once,  welcome ;  welcome  at 

once. 

You  come  to  my  new  buildings  vp-fitting  : 
It  hath  been  long  in  labour,  now  deliuerd, 
And  vp  ;  anon,  wele  haue  a  health  to  it. 
This  RuJJian  Prince,  the  Emperours  Ambaffador, 
Doth  not  our  language  vnderftand.     Interpreter, 
Say  that  we  bid  him  welcome. 

Inter.     The  Prince  fpeaks  Latin, 
And  in  that  language  wele  interpret  for  him. 
Salutem  tibi  optat,  et  admntum  tuum  grauiffime 
IJle  Londinenfis. 

Amb.     Iftum  libens  audio,  ages  illi  meo  nomine 
Ex  animo  gratias  :  funde  qiwd  bibamus. 

Inter.     He  gladly  thanks  you  for  his  royall  wel 
come, 
And  drinkes  to  you. 

Grejk.     We  vnderfland  that  figne. 
Come,  let  our  full-crown' d  cups  oreflow  with  wine, 
Welcome  againe,  fair  lords. 

2.  Lord.     Thanks,  M.  GreJJiam  : 
We  haue  been  viewing  of  your  works. 

Gre/h.     My  Burfe  :  how  do  you  like  it,  lords  ? 
It  is  a  pretty  bable. 

2.  Lord.     Tis  a  faire  worke  : 
Her  Maiefly  intends  to  name  the  place. 

Grejh.     She  doth  her  fervant  Grefham  too  much 
grace. 


If  you  know  not  mes 

It  will  be  pretty  when  my  pidlures  come 
To  fill  thofe  empty  rooms  ;  if  that  hold, 
That  mips  rich  fraught  is  worth  her  waight  in  gold. 

1.  Lord.     It  will  be  rare  and  famous. 

Grejh.     What  was  it  that  the  Ruffian  whifpered  ? 

Inter.     He  askt  me  what  interpreter  the  Queene 
Would  in  his  embaffy  employ. 

Grejh.     None  :  tell  him  none  : 
For,  though  a  woman,  (he  is  a  rare  linguift. 
Where  other  princes  vfe  interpreters, 
She,  propria  voce,  I  haue  fome  Latin  too  ; 
She  of  herfelfe  anfwers  them  without  interpreter, 
Both  Spanijh,  Latine,  French,  and  Greek, 
Dutch,  and  Italian  :  fo  let  him  know. 
My  Lord  of  Lecejler  fent  me  word,  laft  night, 
(And  I  am  prouder  on't  then  on  my  building) 
The  Queene  to  grace  me  and  my  workes  the  more, 
The  feueral  Ambaffadors  there  will  heare, 
And  them  in  perfon  anfwer. 

2.  Lord.     Tis  moll  true. 


Enter  a  gentleman,  whifpering  to  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie. 

Grejh.     The  Ruffian  with  the  French. 
What  would  that  gentleman,  Sir  Thomas  1 

Ram.     He  is  a  merchant,  and  a  jeweller  : 
Mongfl  other  Hones,  he  faith  he  hath  a  pearle, 
Orient  and  round,  weighing  fo  many  carets, 
That  it  can  fcarce  be  valued  :  the  French  King 
And  many  other  Dukes  haue  for  the  riches 
And  price  refufed  to  buy  it ;  now  he  comes 
To  offer  it  to  this  Ambaffador. 

Grejh.     Show  him  the  pearle,  interpreter, 
The  Lord  Ambaffador. 

Inter.     Mercator  quidam  et  aurifex  fpeftandum  tibi 
profert  Gemmam  domine  fereniffime. 

Amb.     Et  pulchra,    et  principe  digna:    interroga 
quanti  iudicat  ? 


you  know  no  body.  299 

Inter.     He  commends  it  to  be  both  rich  and  faire, 
And  defires  to  know  how  you  value  it. 

Mer.     My  price,  fir,  is  fifteene  hundred  pound. 

Amb.     Quanti  valet  1 

Inter.     Mille  quingentis  minis. 

Amb.     Non,  non;  nimis  peccara  eftifta  Gemma. 

Inter.     He  faith  it  is  too  dear ;  he  will  not  buy  it. 

Grejh.     I   will  perufe  your  pearle.     Is  that    the 

price  ? 
Mer.     I  cannot  bate  one  crowne,  and  gaine  by  it. 

Enter  a  Mariner. 

Grejh.     We'le  not  be  acceffary  to  your  lofs  ; 
And  yet  confidering  all  things  fome  may  thinke  vs 
To  be  but  bare  of  treafure  at  this  time, 
Having  disburft  fo  much  about  our  workes ; 
Yet,  if  our  mips  and  trade  in  Barbary 
Hold  currant,  we  are  well. — What  newes  from  fea? 
How  ftands  my  mips  ? 

Mar.     Your  mips,  in  which  all  the  kings  pictures 

were, 

From  Brute  vnto  our  Queene  Elizabeth, 
Drawne  in  white  marble,  by  a  ftorme  at  fea 
Is  wrack't  and  loft. 

Grejh.     The  loffe,  I  weigh  not  this ; 
Onely  it  grieues  me  that  my  famous  building 
Shall  want  fo  rich  and  faire  an  ornament. 

Lady  R.      It    touches    all    the    city;    for    thofe 

pictures 
Had  doubly  grac'd  this  royall  edifice. 

Ram.     Methinkes  the  mips  loffe  moft  mould  trouble 
you. 

GreJIi.     My   fhip's    but  wealth :     why,    we    haue 

wealth. 

The  pictures  were  the  grace  of  my  new  Burfe  : 
So  I  might  them  in  their  true  forme  behold, 
I  car'd  not  to  haue  loft  their  waights  in  gold. 


300  If  you  know  not  me. 

Enter  a  Faftor. 

i.  Lord.     A  noble  citizen  ! 

Grefo.     Our  fadlor  !     What  good  news  from  Bar- 

bary  1 
What  fayes  the  king  ?    Speak :    didft   thou  fummon 

him? 

Or  haft  thou  brought  my  threefcore  thoufand  pound  ? 
Or  mail  I  haue  the  fugars  at  that  rate  1 
If  fo,  new  marble  pid/tures  we'le  haue  wrought, 
And  in  a  new  fhip  from  beyond  fea  brought. 

FaEl.      The  king,   that  in  the  regall   chaire   fuc- 

ceeds 

The  king  late  dead,  I  fummon'd,  and  demanded 
Either  your  money  tender'd,  or  the  fugars 
After  the  rate  propos'd.     He  denied  both  ; 
Alleaging,  though  he  was  fucceffive  heir, 
He  was  not,  therefore,  either  tide  to  pay 
The  late  kings  debts,  nor  yet  to  fland  vnto 
Vnneceffary  bargaines  :  notwithflanding, 
To  gratifie  your  love,  the  king  hath  fent  you 
As  prefents,  not  as  fatisfaclion, 
A  coftly  dagger  and  a  paire  of  flippers ; 
And  there's  all  for  your  threefcore  thoufand  pound. 

Gre/h.     Birlady,  a  'dear  bargain. 

1.  Lord.     I  feare  me  this  will  plague  him.   A  flrange 
crofle  : 

How  will  he  take  this  newes  1  loffe  vpon  loffe. 

2.  Lord.     Nay,  will  it  not  vndoe  him  ?  doth  he  not 
wifh 

His  buildings  in  his  purfe  1 

Grefh.     A  dagger,  that's  well : 
A  paire  of  flippers — Come,  vndoe  my  fhoes. 
What,  60.  thoufand  pound  in  flerling  money, 
And  paid  me  all  in  flippers  1    Then  hoboyes,  play  ! 
On  flippers  He  dance  all  my  care  away. 
Fit,  fit,  he  had  the  jufl  length  of  my  foot. — 
You  may  report,  lords,  when  you  come  to  Court, 
You  Grejham  faw  a  paire  of  flippers  weare, 


you  know  no  body.  301 

Coft  thirty  thoufand  pound. 

1.  Lord.     Somewhat  too  deare. 

Gre/h.     Nor  yet,  for  all  this  treafure  we  haue  loft, 
Repents  it  vs  one  penny  of  our  coft. 

2.  Lord.     As  royall  in  his  vertues   as  his  build 
ings. 

Ram.     Thefe  loffes  would  haue  killd  me. 

Gre/h.     Jeweller, 

Lets  fee  thy  pearl. — Go  pound  it  in  a  morter ; 
Beat  it  to  powder,  then  return  it  me : 
What  Dukes  and  Lords,  and  thefe  Ambaffadors 
Haue,  euen  before  our  face,  refufd  to  purchafe, 
As  of  too  high  a  price  to  venture  on, 
Gre/ham,  a  London  merchant,  here  will  buy. — 
What,  is  it  broken  fmall  ?     Fill  us  fome  wine  : 
Fuller,  yet  fuller,  till  the  brim  oreflows. 
Here  fifteene  hundred  pound  at  one  clap  goes. 
Inftead  of  fugar  Grefliam  drinks  this  pearle 
Vnto  his  Queene  and  miftreffe  :  pledge  it,  lords. 
Who  euer  faw  a  merchant  brauelier  fraught, 
In  dearer  flippers,  or  a  richer  draught  1 

Ram.     You   are   an   honour   to  all  Engli/h  mer 
chants  ; 

As  bountiful  as  rich,  as  charitable 
As  rich,  as  renowned  as  any  of  all. 

Gre/h.     I  doe  not  this  as  prodigall  of  my  wealth  ; 
Rather  to  mow  how  I  efleern  that  loffe 
Which  cannot  be  regain'd.     A  London  merchant 
Thus  treads  on  a  kings  prefent.     Jeweller, 
My  factor  mail  deliuer  you  the  money. 
And,  lords,  fo  pleafe  you  but  to  fee  my  fchoole 
Of  the  feuen  learned  liberal  fciences, 
Which  I  haue  founded  here  neare  Bifhopfgate, 
I  will  conduct  you.     I  will  make  it,  Lords, 
An  Vniverfity  within  itfelfe, 
And  giue't  from  my  reuenues  maintenance. 
W  are  not  like  thofe  that  are  not  liberal 
Till  they  be  dying ;  what  we  meane  to  giue, 
We  will  beftow  and  fee  done  whilft  we  liue. 


3O2  If  you  kn&w  not  me, 

Attendance !  come,  th'  Ambaffador,  guefts,  all, 
Your  welcome's  great,  albeit  your  cheere's  but  fmall. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Tawny-coat  with  afpade. 

Taw.     Hard  world,  when  men  dig  liuing  out  of 

Hones, 

As  wretched  miferable  I  am  enforft. 
And  yet  there  Hues  more  pity  in  the  earth, 
Then  in  the  flinty  bofomes  of  her  children  ; 
For  fhee's  content  to  haue  her  aged  brefl 
Mangled  with  mattockes,  rent  and  torne  with  fpades, 
To  giue  her  children  and  their  children  bread  j 
When  man  more  flinty  then  her  flony  ribs 
That  was  their  mother,  neither  by  intreats, 
Tears,  nor  complaints,  will  yeeld  them  fuflenance. 
But  tis  our  ages  fault ;  the  mightier 
Tear  liuing  out  of  vs,  we  out  of  her. 

Enter  Hobfon,  in  his  gowne  and  flippers. 

Hob.     Mother  a  me,  what  a  thick  mift  is  here  ? 
I  walked  abroad  to  take  the  mornings  aire, 
And  I  am  out  of  knowledge.     Bones  a  me, 
What  meads,  and  what  inclofures  haue  we  here  ? 
How  now,  old  Hobfon  \  doat  in  thine  old  age  1 
A  foole  at  three  fcore  ?     Whither  wilt  thou,  wit  ? 
I  crofl  the  water  in  my  gown  and  flippers, 
To  fee  my  rents  and  buildings  of  the  Bankfide> 
And  I  am  flipt  clean  out  of  ken,  fore-god, 
A  wool-gathering. 

Taw.     Either  mine  care's  deceiued, 
Or  I  mould  know  that  tongue.     Tis  fo,  indeed, 
Each   word   he   fpeakes   makes   my   torn   heart    to- 
bleed. 

Hob.     Ha,  ha  !  I  fmile  at  my  owne  foolery. 
Now  I  remember  mine  old  grandmother 
Would  talk  of  fairies  and  hobgoblins, 


yoit,  know  no  body.  303 

That  would  lead  milkmaids  ouer  hedge  and  ditch, 
Make  them  milk  their  neighbours  kine ; 
And  ten  to  one  this  Robin  Goodfellow 

Tawny-coat  di%s. 

Hath  led  me  vp  and  down  the  madmans  maze. 
I  heare  fome  company  ;  for  fhame  all  whift, 
Sit  thee  downe,  Hobfon,  a  right  man  in  the  mift. 

Taw.     Tis  he.     Alas  !   when   the   rough  hand  of 

want 

Hath  caft  vs  downe,  it  loads  vs  with  mifhaps. 
I    broke    my   day  with    him.       O    had    that    fatal 

houre 

Broken  my  heart :  and,  villain  that  I  was, 
Neuer  fo  much  as  write  in  my  excufe  : 
And  he  for  that  default  hath  fued  my  bill, 
And  with  an  execution  is  come  downe, 
To  feaze  my  houfehold  fluff,  imprifon  me, 
And  turne  my  wife  and  children  out  of  doores. 
What,  mail  I  fly  him  1     No  ;  he  's  pitiful : 
Then,  with  my  teares  I  will  importune  him. 
God  faue  you  M.  Hobfon* 

Hob.     Hobfon,  bones  a  me, 
What  voice  is  that  1 — Art  thou  a  man,  or  friend  ? 
Tell  me  if  thou  beefl  that  Will  of  the  Wifp, 
That  leadfl  me  this  wild  morice  1     I  coniure  thee 
To  leaue  me  to  myfelfe. 

Taw.     O  Matter  Hobfon  ! 
As  euer  you  haue  beene  a  poore  mans  friend, 
Continue  flill  fo  :  infult  not  o'er  my  fortunes. 

Hob.     I  am  in  the  mift.     What  art  thou  1  fpeake. 

Taw.     A  debter  of  your  worfhips. 

Hob.     A    debter  of  mine  !   mother   of  me,  thou 

Heft. 

I  know  thee  not,  nor  doe  I  know  this  place. 
If  thou   oweft    me   any    thing,    pay    me    with    thy 

loue  : 

And  if  thou  beeft  acquainted  in  thefe  woods, 
Conducl  me  to  fome  towne,  or  diredl  road 
That  leads  to  London,  and  He  here  difcharge  thee 


304  If  you  know  not  me, 

Of  debts  and  duties,  and  befide  impart 
Somewhat  to  cherim  thee. 

Taw.     What  mould  I  thinke  1 

He  knowes  me ;  and,  for  feare  I  mould  fcape  him, 
He  would  intice  me  to  the  officers. 

0  Matter  Hobfon  \  though  not  for  mine  owne, 
Yet  for  my  wife  and  my  poore  childrens  fakes, 
If  your  intent  be  to  irnprifon  me, 

Vpon  my  knees  I  do  intreat  you  fpare  me. 

The    goods    you    trufted    me    withal,    I    haue   not 

wafted 

In  riot  and  excefs,  but  my  kinde  heart, 
Seeing  my  helplefie  neighbours  in  diftreffe, 
By  reafon  of  the  long  and  extreame  dearth, 
Some  I  relieued,  fome  trufted  with  my  goods, 
Whofe  pouertie's  not  able  to  repay. 
Then  beare  with  me  a  little  ;  your  rich  ftore 
Hath  fau'd  my  life,  and  fed  an  hundred  more. 

Hob.     Now,  bones-a-me,  another  Tawny-coat. 
What's  thy  name,  knaue  ? 

Taw.    John  Rowland,  fir. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me, 

1  thought  as  much.     Art  not  thou  Tawney-coat  ? 
Taw.     I  am  the  man  whom  you  call'd  Tawny-coat. 
Hob.     And  I  the  Hob/on  that  will  pitty  thee. 

Now  bones-a-me,  what  mak'ft  thou  with  a  fpade  ? 

Taw.     This  fpade  alas,  tis  all  the  wealth  I  haue, 
When  my  poor  wife  and  children  cry  for  bread, 
They  ftill  muft  cry  till  thefe  haue  purchaft  it ; 
They  muft  go  naked  till  thefe  harden'd  hands, 
When  the  cold  breath  of  winter  ftrikes  on  them, 
Till  thefe  haue  earned  it. 

Hob.     Now,  alas,  good  foul  ! 
It  melts  my  heart  to  heare  him,  and  mine  eyes 
Could  weepe  for  company. — What  earn'ft  a  day  ? 

Taw .    Little  God  knows. 
Though  I  be  ftirring  earlier  then  the  larbe, 
And  at  my  labour  later  then  the  lambe, 
Towards  my  wife  and  childrens  maintenance 


you  know  no  body.  305 

I  fcarcely  earne  me  threepence  by  the  day. 

Hob.     Alas,  the  while,  poor  foules  I  pitty  them ; 
And  in  thy  words,  as  in  a  looking-glafs, 
I  fee  the  toil  and  travell  of  the  country, 
And  quiet  gaine  of  cities  bleffedneffe. 
Heauens  will  for  all,  and  mould  not  we  refpect  it, 
We  are  vnworthy  life.     But,  bones-a-me, 
Dofl  think  to  pay  me  twenty  pound 
And  keep  thy  charge  earning  a  groat  a  day  ? 

Taw.     And  God  blefs  my  labours,  I  hope  I  (hall. 
I  haue  this  quarter  by  exceeding  thrift, 
Bare  clothing,  and  fpare  dyet,  fcrap'd  together 
Fine  millings  in  a  purfe,  which  I  lay  vp 
Towards  your  worfhips  debt. 

Hob.     Giue  it  me ;  fomewhat  hath  fome  fauour. 
And  yet  mall  I  fpend  that  which  the  poor  labourer 

got? 

No,  God  forbid  :  old  Hobfon  ne'er  will  eat, 
Rather  then  furfet  vpon  poore  mens  fweat. 
Take  it  againe,  and  buy  thy  children  bread. 
But  foft,  the  mift  doth  break. :  what  town  is  this  ? 

Taw.     Detford,  an't  like  your  worfhip. 

Enter  Timothy. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,  to  Detfordc&mo.  I  to  do  charity. 
I  fee  'twas  Gods  appointment— 
But  who  comes  here  ?     Bones  a  me,  honeft  Tim  \ — 
'Twas  faid  in  London  you  were  bound  for  France, 
And  I  determin'd  to  haue  writ  by  you. 

Tim.  By  yea  and  nay,  M.  Hobfon,  'tis  no  vntmth. 
I  was  bound  for  France,  landed  in  France,  diipatcht 
fome  fecret  bufineffe  for  a  filler  in  France,  and  from 
her  haue  French  tokens  to  deliuer  to  the  Qfterhood 
whom  I  (hall  firft  encounter  in  England. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,    Tim,    fo  fpeedy  in  your  iour- 

ney ! 
It  feemes  your  bufmefs  was  of  much  import. 


306  If  yoit,  know  not  mey 

Tim.  Verely  it  was,  and  it  flood  chiefly  between 
two  women ;  and,  as  you  know,  women  loue  to  haue 
their  bufmeffe  difpatcht. 

Hob.     Mother-a-me,  Tim,  I  am  glad  of  it. 
But  how  does  my  faclor,  John  GreJJiam,  in  France  ? 

Tim.  Your  grauitie  may  better  confider  of  that 
then  I  can  difcourfe  ;  but  withal  I  pray  you  think  he 
is  a  wilde  youth.  There  are  tauerns  in  France,  yet  I 
do  not  think  John  Grefham  is  giuen  to  frequent 
them  ;  and  yet  I  mufl  remember  you  he  is  a  youth, 
and  youth  may  be  drawne  to  expences.  England's  on 
this  fide,  France  on  that ;  the  fea's  betwixt  him  and 
his  mailer  ;  but  I  doe  not  think  him  guilty,  yet  I  could 
fay. 

Hob.     Mother  a  me,  leaue  off  thefe  parables, 
And  tell  me  plainly,  is  he  not  a  wencher  ? 

Tim.  By  yea  and  by  nay,  fir,  without  parable,  I  am 
no  tell-tale.  I  haue  feen  him  in  company  with 
Madona  fuch  a  one,  or  fuch  a  one :  it  becomes  not 
flefh  and  blood  to  reueale.  Your  worfhip  knowes  he 
is  in  France,  the  fea  betwixt  him  and  you,  and  what  a 
young  youth  in  that  cafe  is  prone  vnto  :  your  grauity 
is  wife.  He  not  fay  fo  much  as  I  faw  him  drinking 
with  a  French  lady  or  laffe  in  a  tauerne,  becaufe  your 
grauity  is  wife ;  but  if  I  had,  it  had  beene  leffe  then 
perhaps  you  imagine  on  fuch  a  wild  youth  as  he  no 
queflion  does  deferue. 

Hob.     Mother-a-me,  'tis  fo.     In  a  French  tauerne, 
Kiffing  the  lady,  and  the  fea  betwixt  vs. 
I  am  for  you,  M.  John  ;  thus  in  my  gowne  and  flip 
pers, 

And  nightcap  and  gowne,  He  flep  ouer  to  France. 
Here,  Tawny-coat,  receiue  thou  my  feal'd  ring  : 
Beare  it  to  my  facSlor  ;  bid  him  by  that  token 
Sort  thee  out  forty  pounds  worth  of  fuch  wares 
As  thou  malt  thinke  mofl  beneficial. 
Thou  art  a  free  man ;  vp  with  thy  trade  agen  : 
He  raife  thee,  Rowland,  if  God  fay,  Amen. 

Taw.     I  know  not  how. 


you  knoiv  no  body.  307 

Hob.     Tut,  bones-a-me,  man,  peace  !     Hobfon   will 
do't :    thou  oweft  me  but  twenty  pound,  lie  venture 
forty  more.     Timothy  here  mail  be  thy  witnefs  to  my 
fac~lor  in  this  bufmefs. 
To  all  our  friends  in  London  fay  I  am  gone 
Ouer  to  France. — I  am  for  you,  M.  John.        Exeunt. 

Enter  John  and  Cnrtezan. 

Cur.     Sweet  youth,  thou  art  too  young,  and  yet 

fcarce  ripe 
To  tail  the  fweetnefs  of  my  mellowed  loue. 

John.  That's  the  reafon  I  fet  thy  teeth  on  edge 
thus ;  but  thou  know'ft  I  promift  to  haue  a  bout  with 
thee  at  our  lafl  parley,  and  I  am  come  to  perform e 
my  word  :  name  the  weapon. 

Cur.     Nothing  but  kiffes  and  enticing  lookes. 

yohn.  Then  ward  your  lips  well,  or  you'le  ha'  the 
firft  venney. 

Cur.     I  haue  no  ward  but  this  :  my  tender  fex 
Haue  not  the  manly  skill  to  breake  a  thruft. 
O  how  I  dote  on  thee  !     I  haue  tride  ere  now 
The  fweaty  Spaniard  and  the  carowfing  Dane, 
The  foggy  Dutchman,  and  the  fiery  French, 
The  briske  Italian,  and  indeed  what  not ; 
And  yet  of  all  and  all,  the  Englimman 
Shall  goe  for  me  :  I,  y'are  the  trued  louers, 
The  ableft,  lafl  night,  and  the  trueft  men 
That  breathe  beneath  the  fun. 

John.  Why  then  the  Englishman  for  thy  money  : 
God-a-mercy  little  rogue,  there's  no  loue  loft,  lie 
affure  thee.  I  am  my  maflers  factor,  and  thou  haft  a 
commodity  that  I  muft  needs  take  vp,  and  not  enter't 
into  his  cam-book  neither.  Little  thinks  my  mafter  in 
England  what  ware  I  deale  withal  here  in  France ;  but 
fmce  'tis  offer'd  me  at  the  beft  hand,  He  venture  on't, 
though  I  be  a  lofer  by  the  bargain. 

Cur.     I  would  be  priuate,  left  the  tell-tale  aire 
Whifper  our  loue.     I  prethee,  let  vs  in 

x  2 


308  If  y oil  know  not  me, 

To  the  inner  chamber  ;  I  am  jealous 

Of  all  eyes  but  mine  owne  to  looke  vpon  thee  : 

I  would  haue  none  to  fee  thee  but  myfelf, 

In  amorous  arms  to  fold  thee  but  myfelf, 

To  affociate,  talke,  difcourfe,  or  dally  with  thee, 

Clip,  grafpe  hands,  or  kiffe  thee,  but  myfelf. 

John.  Who  would  not  be  a  merchant  venturer, 
and  lay  out  for  fuch  a  faire  returned  I  mail  ven 
ture  the  doubling  of  my  yeares  prefently.  I  thinke  I 
haue  met  with  a  better  commodity  then  matches,  and 
my  mailer  cannot  fay  but  he  hath  met  with  his 
match.  This  'tis  to  haue  the  land  and  the  fea  be 
twixt  me  and  my  mafter :  here  can  I  keep  my 
French  reuels,  and  none  fay  fo  much  as  black  is 
mine  eye. — Prithee,  little  pinckany,  beftow  this  iewell 
a  me. 

Cur.     This  iewel's  a  loue  :  aske  my  life,  'tis  thine ; 
But  this  an  Englifh  factor  whom  you  know, 
Gaue  me  at  his  departure  out  of  Rhoane, 
And  I  haue  vow'd  to  keepe  it  for  his  fake. 
Any  thing  but  this  iewel. 

John.  But  if  I  could  get  his  iewel  cleanly,  and 
carry  it  him  ouer  at  my  return  for  a  token,  'twere  a 
ieft  worth  laughing  at. — But  and  thou  wilt  not  giue 
me  this  iewel,  prethee  giue  me  this  fame  chaine  to 
weare  for  thy  fake. 

Cur.     This  was  another  countrymans  of  yours  : 
He  made  me  fwear  to  keep't  till  his  returne. 
Ask  me  ought  elfe,  'tis  thine. 

John.     Why,  then,  this  ring. 

Cur.     That  you,  of  all  the  fauours  that  I  wear, 
Could  find  out  nothing  but  this  ring  ?  this  ring, 
A  toy  not  worth  the  giuing ;  yet  I  fooner 
Would  part  with  life  then  this.     A  dying  friend 
Bequeath'd  it  at  his  death.     But,  honey  loue, 
What  mouldft  thou  talke  of  giuing  ?  'tis  a  word 
Worne  out  of  ufe ;  it  founds  not  well  in  French  : 
A  man  mould  ftill  fay  take,  take,  to  his  wench. 

John.     Then,  I  fay  take  :  take  this  and  this ;  ftill 


you  know  no  body.  309 

take  heed  of  me,  left  I  (hew  you  a  flippery  tricke  for 
this.  Tis  the  kindefl  wench  in  Chriflendom,  but 
fhe'le  part  with  nothing. — Shall  we  haue  another 
wooing  room  ? 

Cur.     What  room   thou    pleafeft,  deare   heart,    I 

agree : 
Where  Ye  I  go,,  there  (hall  be  roome  for  thee. 

John.  Any?  then  I  may  chance  to  make  you 
wifh  rather  my  roome  then  my  company,  and  you 
looke  not  the  better  to't.  They  withdraw. 

Enter  at  the  other  end  of  the  ftage  Hobfon  in  his  gowne 
and  flippers. 

Hob.     I   haue  flipt   ore   into  France;   and  in  my 

flippers, 

Giuen  all  my  friends  the  flip,  to  fee  this  gallant, 
My  man,  he  that  hath  matcht  me.     Bones-a-rne, 
The  knaue's  a  prophet,  elfe  it  could  not  be. 
He's  not  at  his  lodging,  yet  by  an  Englifh  fadlor, 
A  fellow  knowes  not  me,  I  was  directed 
Vnto  this  houfe.     He  know  what  bufmefse 
The  knaue  hath  here.  Pulfat. 

Intrat  Puella. 

Wench.     Who's  there  ?  who's  at  the  doore  ? 

Hob.  Damfel,  good  day :  is  there  not  a  fellow  here, 
an  Englishman? 

Wench.  Here's  an  Englifhman,  but  none  of  your 
fellow,  neither.  I  hope,  fir,  we  are  not  all  fellowes  at 
foot-ball. 

Hob.  Nay,  bones-a-me.  girle,  there's  no  reafon  wee 
mould  bee  fellows.  But  prithee,  my  wench,  is  there 
not  one  yack  Grefliam  here  ? 

'Wetich.  No,  good  man  looke  like  a  goofe  ;  but 
there's  one  Mafler  John  Grejham,  an  Englifh  gentle 
man  here.  And  you  know  no  manners,  you  mould 
be  taught  fome. 


3io  If  you  know  not  me, 

Hob.      Bones-a-me,   goodman   mailer,   matter  fer- 

vant ! 

Old  goodman  Hobfon  keeps  gentlemen  to  his  men. 
Jacke  turn'd  to  M.  John ;  marry,  fir  reuerence  ! 
The  French  maid  taught  me  manners.     Well,  I  hope 
We  mail  haue  a  fight  of  the  gentleman. 

Wench.    As  you  vfe  yourfelf,  you  may,  and  you  may 
not.  Exeunt  ambo. 


Faft.     Curtiz. 

John.     Thou  feefl  this  iewel  well  becomes  mine 

eare, 
This  ring  my  finger,  and  this  chaine  mine  arm. 

Cour.     He  be  thy  iewell  :  at  thy  lips  lie  hang, 
And,  as  this  ring  thy  finger  compaffeth, 
So   fhall   thefe    armes   thy  wafte.      Thefe    are    but 

toyes ; 
Let  me  difplace  them. 

Intrat  puella. 

Wench.  M.  John,  here's  a  fellow  below  would 
fpeake  with  you. 

John.     With  me  :  what  is  he  ? 

Wench.  A  fimple  coxcombe  ;  He  call  him  vp 
to  you. 

John.  Do,  my  fweete  Buifamacke.  Some  carrier, 
or  bafe  knaue,  that  hangs  of  my  liberality. — I  hope 
'tis  not  pure  Tim  come  for  the  fecond  part  of  my 
beneuolence. 

Admit  him  in,  that  he  may  praife  our  fate, 
And  fee  us  in  our  choifeft  pomp  and  ftate. 

Wench.     Here's  the  fellow  I  told  you  of,  fir. 

Intrat  Hobfon. 

John.     Zoones  !  my  mailer. 

Hob.       Sante    amen  \      Man   John,    a    wenchart 


you  know  no  body.  311 

knaue,  racke  and  manger  knaue ?  Bones-a-me,  can 
not  a  fnatch  and  away  feme  your  turn,  but  you  mud 
lie  at  racke  and  manger  1  Is  this  the  ware  you  deale 
with,  feruant  John  1 

John.     Chapmans  ware,  fir. 

Hob.  Sirra,  firra,  the  dealing  with  fuch  ware  be 
longs  not  to  our  trade.  Bones-a-me,  knaue,  a  prentife 
muft  not  occupy  for  himfelf,  but  for  his  mafter,  to  any 
purpofe. 

John.  And  he  cannot  occupy  for  his  mailer,  with 
out  the  confent  of  his  miftris. 

Hob.     Come,  y'are  a  knaue. 

John.     Of  your  owne  bringing  vp,  fir. 

Hob.  Befides,  thou  canfl  not  keepe  open  mop 
here,  becaufe  thou  art  a  forraigner,  by  the  laws  of  the 
realm. 

John*  Not  within  the  liberty ;  but  I  hope  the 
fuburbs  tolerates  any  man  or  woman  to  occupy  for 
themfelues :  they  may  do't  in  the  city,  too,  and  they 
be  naturalized  once. 

Hob.  I  but  firra,  He  haue  none  of  my  Englifh 
prentifes  frenchified.  Bones-a-me,  knaue,  He  haue 
thee  deal  with  no  fuch  broken  commodities. 

John.  Your  worfhip  mufl  haue  fuch  as  the 
country  yeelds,  or  none  at  all.  But,  I  pray,  fir, 
what's  our  trade  ? 

Hob.     What  faift  thou,  knaue  1 

John.  That  your  worfhip  is  a  haberdafher  of  all 
wares. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me  !  a  haberdafher  of  fmall  wares. 

John.  And  that  the  worfl  trade  in  all  Chriflen- 
dom,  and  efpecially  for  French  women  :  if  they  know 
a  man  to  be  a  haberdafher  of  fmall  ware,  they'll  'haue 
no  dealing  with  him  ;  and  therefore,  and  you  will  haue 
any  good  commodities  here,  you  mufl  change  your 
copy.  You  neuer  were  a  traueller,  and  therefore 
you  know  not  what  belongs  to't.  But  you  doe 
clean  miflake  this  gentlewoman,  and  you  take  her 
for  a  light  wench  :  weigh  her  in  equal  balance,  and 


3 1 2  If  you  know  not  me, 

you  fhall  find  her  no  fuch  woman,  no  fuch  woman, 
affure  you. 

Hob.     No  !  what  is  me,  then,  yohn  1 

John.  Fore- god,  fir,  I  would  not  haue  you  wrong 
the  gentlewomans  repute  for  a  world.  This  metrefla 
deals  for  herfelf,  and  hath  many  forts  of  ware  at 
command  :  I  was  'now  bargaining  with  her  about  a 
certain  Country  commodity,  and  had  not  your  coming 
marr'd  the  match,  we  had  gone  through  for't.  And 
further,  mould  you  wrong  the  ladies  reputation  here 
in  France,  lie  affure  you  they  haue  the  law  of  their 
fides.  But,  to  confirme  your  good  opinion  of  her,  this 
is  me  of  whom  I  tooke  vp  your  commodity  of  matches  : 
be  forry  for  your  oifence,  and  excuse  you  to  her  for 
mame  matter. 

Hob.  Bones-a-me  knaue,  I  cannot  fpeake  a  word 
of  French. 

John.     Nor  fhe  of  Englifli.     But  all's  one :  vpon 

her  matter,  and  what 

You  cannot  do  in  words,  perform  in  dumb  figns. 
What,  in  your  flippers  come  to  take  me  napping  1 
He  giue  you  what  you  come  for  inttantly, 
And,  on  the  fodaine  make  you  fo  agaft, 
You  will  be  glad  to  pardon  what  is  pad.  Exit. 

Hob.     Madam,  I  cry  you  mercy  for  this  wrong 
Done  to  your  ladilhip  :  I  did  fufpec~l  you 
For  a  bad  liuer,  but  I  fee  you  cleare  ; 
For  which  mittake  I  doe  remaine  your  feruant. 

Cour.     Gramercy,  mounfier. 

Hob.     How  !  would  you  my  gray  mare  fee  1 
An  Jt  like  your  ladyfhip,  I  came  by  water, 
And  neither  on  mares  back,  nor  horfe  backe. 

Cour.     No,  no  point  par  la  Francoi^. 

Hob.  No,  indeed,  lady,  my  name  is  not  Francis ; 
your  feruant,  and  John  Hobfon. 

Cour.     No  point? 

Hob.  No  points  ?  yes,  indeed,  lady  ;  I  haue  points 
at  my  hofe,  though  I  go  vntruft. 

Cour .    No  point  par  la. 


you  know  no  body.  3 1 3 

Hob.     I  haue  no  points  in  my  parlour,  indeed  ;  but 
I  haue  a  hundred  pounds  worth  in  my  mop. 

Intrat  Joh.  ctim  aliis  Fatt. 

John.     Turn  !  fear  not  lads  ;  for  he  knowes  none 

of  you. 

Doe  but  buffe  out  a  little  broken  French, 
And  he'le  neuer  take  you  to  be  Englishmen. 

Omn.  Fatt.     We'le    fecond    the    other,    but    ma 
nage  it. 

John.     Be  patient,  I  befeech  you,  gentlemen. 
Though  you  be  officers,  appointed  here 
To  fearch  fufpec~led  places,  as  this  is 
A  moft  notorious  filthy  bawdy-houfe, 
And  carry  all  old  rufly  fornicators, 
Aboue  the  age  of  fifty  vnto  prifon, 
Yet  know,  this  is  an  honeft  gentleman. 

Hob.     A  fearch,  and  this   a  bawdy-houfe  ? — Why, 

John  \ 
Bones-a-me,  knaue,  how  comes  this  to  pafs  ? 

1  Fatt.     Meafar,  man  a  moy. 

Hob.     How  !    muft  you  haue  money  of  me  ?   lie 
know  wherefore  firft,  by  your  leaues. 

John.     Nay,  matter,  I  would  it  were  but  a  money 

matter ; 

A  cage,  or  whipping  pott,  or  fo  :  'tis  worfe. 
What !  an  old  man  to  chide  his  prentice  hence, 
As  if  he  had  fome  priuate  bufmefs, 
And  then  himfelf  get  clofe  vnto  his  wench  ? 
Nay,    whipping's   all    too    good.      Had    you    found 

me  fo, 
There   had    been   work    enough ;    there    had    been 

newes 

For  England,  and  a  whole  twelue  months  chiding 
Of  my  good  vncle. 

2  Fatt.    Je  vouftrefau  amil't. 

Hob.     How  !  mutt  I  go  to  prifon  for  doing  amifs  ? 
John.     To  prifon  !  nay  to,  whipping,  I  am  forry  ; 


314  If  you  know  not  me> 

And,  to  my  power,  I  will  intreat  for  you. 
Fie,  matter,  fie  ! 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,  John,  is  not  this  a  lady  1 
John.     No,  by  my  troth,  mailer ;  iuch  as  be  in  the 

garden-alleys. 
Joan's  as  good  as  this  French  lady. 

Hob.     Is  not  this  gentlewoman  a  dealer  1 
And  hath  fhe  not  a  good  commodity  ? 

John.     Yes  by  my  faith  fir,  I  confefs  both. 
Hob.     Hath  fhe  not  ware  1 
John.     She  hath,  and  at  a  reafonable  reckning. 
Hob.     And    may  not  then    a  chapman  deal  with 
her? 

John.     Marry  may  you,  fir  :  and  He  fend  news  to 

your  Wife  of  your  dealing. 
The    caufe    of    your    coming    to    France    mail    be 

knowne, 

And  what  fecond  hand  commodities  you  cooke  vp 
Since  your  comming :    my  miflris  in   England  mail 

know 
What  vtterance  you  haue   for  your  fmall  wares  in 

France. 
Pen    and    inke ! — He    fet    it    down   in   blacke   and 

white. 
Hob.     Bones  a  me,  John  \  what,  John  \  why  hon- 

eft  John  % 

John.       Harty     commendations — vnderttand — re- 
uerend  Matter  Hobfon  found  with  a  whore  in  Roane 
— place,  a  common  bawdy-houfe — mutt  be  whipt. 
Hob.     No  more,  good  John  ! 
John.     You  haue  had  none  yet — whipt  about  the 

town. 
Hob.  Sweet,  honett  John  \  why  bones-a-me,  knaue 

John  \ 

John.  In  witnes  whereof,  all  thefe  honett  gentle 
men  eye-witneffes  haue  fet  to  their  hands.  Nay,  my 
my  mittrefse  fliall  know't,  that's  flat.  Are  there  not 
wenches  enow  in  England,  but  you  mutt  walke  ouer 
fea  in  your  flippers,  and  venture  (being  not  fhod)  to 


you  know  no  body.  315 

come  into  France  awenehing  ?  what  an  old  man,  too  ! 
She  mail  know  what  a  flippery  tricke  you  would  haue 
ferued  her  in  your  flippers  in  France. 

Hob.  Nay,  bones-a-me,  John  :  friends,  fweet  John, 

all  friends  ; 

I  doe  confefs  t'hafl  ouer-reacht  thy  mafter. 
Ca  me,  ca  thee  :  conceale  this  from  my  wife, 
And  He  keep  all  thy  knauery  from  thine  vncle. 

John.     Well  fir,  in  hope  of  amendment,  I  am  con 
tent,  and  yet 
Hob.      Nay,   bones-a-me,   He   take    you    at   your 

word, 

Befides,  I  hope  thefe  honefl  gentlemen 
Will  faue  my  credit. 

John.     He  entreat  for  you. 

Hob.     Tis  logicke  to  me,  fir;  I  vnderftand  you  not. 
John.     Marry  fir  they  fay  if  you  will  walke  with 
them  to  their  lodgings,  for  my  fake  they  inuite  you  to 
dinner. 

Hob.      God-a-mercy,    gentlemen  ;    God-a-mercy 

John. 

But,  bones-a-me  knaue,  where  are  their  lodgings  ? 
John.     Hard  by ;  for  why  doe  you  ask  ? 
Hob.  I  hope   theyle  bring  me  to  no  more  bawdy- 

houfes ; 
I  would    not  be  taken   napping  againe  for  two  and 

one. 
But,  gentlemen,  He  accept  of  your  curtefie,  and  then, 

John,  _ 

You  mail  with  me  to  England :  wele  mow  France 
Our   backes.      And  you  will  needs  deale  for   your- 

felfe 

Afore  your  time,  you  mall  do't  in  Ejigland. 
Will  you  walk,  gentlemen  1 

Cur.      Adieu,    monfieur  :    and   GreJ}iam>    farewell 

too. 

No  more  of  French  loue,  no  more  French  loffe  (hall 
do.  Exeunt* 


316  If  you  know  not  me, 


Enter  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie  being  Mayor,  Sheriff, 
Sword-bearer,  &c. 

Sir  Tho.     Well  faid  my  mailers.     See  all  things  be 

ready 

To  giue  her  Majefty  fuch  entertainment 
As  may  grace  London,  and  become  the  ftate 
Her    highnefs    brings    along.      Where's    the    Queen 

now  ? 
Sword.     She  comes  along  the  Strand  from  Som- 

merfet  Houfe, 
Through    Temple  Barre,  down  Fleet  Steeet,  and  the 

Cheap, 

The  North  fide  of  the  Burfe  to  Bifltopfgate, 
And  dines  at  Mafter  Grejhams,  and  appoints 
To  returne  on  the  fouth  fide,  through  Corne-hitt\ 
And     there    when    fne     hath     view'd    the    roomes 

aboue 

And  walkes  below,  fhele  giue  name  to  the  Burfe. 
Sher.      The    flreets    are    fit,    and    all    the    com 
panies 

Plac'd  in  their  liueries  gainfl  her  returne. 
But,  my  Lord  Mayor,  fliall  thefe  Ambaffadors 
This  day  haue  audience  ? 

Sir    Tho.        Admittance    if    not    audience     was 

granted  : 

See  therefore  trumpets  and  all  kinds  of  muficke 
Be  plac'd  againft  her  royal  interview, 
The  fteps  with  arras  fpread  where  me  afcends ; 
Befides,  giue  charge  vnto  the  fhopkeepers 
To  make  their  beft  fhowes  in  the  vpper  roomes, 
Becaufe  the  Queen  intends  to  cornpafie  it. 

Sher.     Tis  done  my  lord.  Tr  umpets  afar  off. 

Sir   Tho.     The   Queene  hath  din'd  :  the  trumpets 

found  already, 

And  giue  note  of  her  comming. — Bid  the  waits 
And  Hoboyes  to  be  ready  at  an  inflant. 


know  no  body.  3 1 7 

Enter,  at  one  doore,  the  Queen,  Lecefter,  Suffex, 
Lords,  Grefham  :  at  the  other,  Caffimer,  the 
French  and  Florentine  Ambaffadors,  Sir  Thomas 
Ramfie,  6°£. 

Queen.     Lejler  and  Suffex,  are  thofe  the  Ambaffa- 

dors  ? 
Left.     They  are  dread  foueraign  :  he  that  formoft 

Hands, 

The  Emperour's  ;  the  fecond  is  the  French ; 
The  laft  is  the  Florentine. 

Queen.     We  will  receiue  them. 
Here  the  Queene  entertaines  the  Ambaffadors,  and 

in  their  feueral  languages  confers  with  them. 
Suffex  and  Lefter  place  the  Ambaffadors, 
We  at  our  Court  of  Greenwich  will  dilate 
Further  of  thefe  defignes.     Where's  Gre/ham  % 
Grejh.     Your  humble  fubiecl  and  feruant. 
Queen.      Our  leafure  now    ferues   to  furuey  your 

Burfe. 

A  goodly  frame,  a  rare1  proportion. 
This  city  our  great  chamber  cannot  mow  vs, 
To  adde  vnto  our  fame  a  monument 
Of  greater  beauty.     Lecefter,  what  fayft  thou  ? 

Leic.     That    I   my  foueraign  haue  not  feene   the 

like. 

Queen.     Stiff  ex,  nor  you  ? 
Stiff.     Madam,    not'  I.      This  Grejhams   work  of 

ftone 
Will  Hue  to  him  when  I  am  dead  an.l  gone. 

Enter  Hobfon. 

Hob.     God  blefs  thy  grace,  Queen  Beffe. 

Queen.     Friend,  what  art  you  ? 

Hob.     Knoweft  thou  not  me,  Queene  ?  then  thou 

knoweft  nobody. 

Bones-a-me,  Queene,  I  am  Hobfon  ;  and  old  Hobfon, 
By  the  Socks,  I  am  fure  you  know  me. 


3 1 8  If  yoii  know  not  me, 

Queen.     What  is  he  Lecefter  1  doft  thou  know 

fellow  ?— 
GreJJiam,  or  you  ? 

Grejh.     May  it  pleafe  your  Maiefty, 
He  is  a  rich  fubftantial  citizen. 

Hob.     Bones-a-me,  woman,  fend  to  borrow  money 
Of  one  you  doe  not  know  !  there's  a  new  tricke. 
Your  grace  fent  to  me  by  a  purfeuant 
And  by  a  priuy  feal,  to  lend  your  highnefie 
An  hundred  pound  :  I,  hearing  that  my  Queene 
Had  need  of  money,  and  thinking  you  had  knowne 

me, 

Would  needs  vpon  the  bearer  force  two  hundred. 
The    Queene    mould  haue    had   three   rather   then 

faile  ; 

I,  by  this  hand.     Queene  Beffe,  I  am  old  Hobfon, 
A  haberdafher,  and  dwelling  by  the  flocks. 
When  thou  feefl  money  with  thy  grace  is  fcant, 
For  twice  fiue  hundred  pound  thou  malt  not  want. 

Queen.     Vpon  my  bond. 

Hob.     No,  no,  my  foueraign  ; 
He  take  thine  own  word,  without  fcrip  or  fcrowle. 

Queen.      Thanks   honeft    Hobfon :    as   I  am   true 

maid, 

He  lee  myfelf  the  money  back  repaid. 
Thou  without  grudging  lendft,  thy  purfe  is  free  ; 
Honefl  as  plain. 

Stiff.     A  true  well  meaning  man,  I  warrant  him. 

Grejh.     Your  Maiefly  promifl  to  giue  the  name 
To  my  new  Burfe. 

Queen.    Grejham,  we  will. — A  herauld,  and  a  trum 
pet ! 

Lee.     A  herauld  and  a  trumpet ! 

Queen.     Proclaime  through  euery  high  ftreet  of  this 

city, 

This  place  to  be  no  longer  calPd  a  Burfe, 
But,  fince  the  building's  {lately,  fair,  and  {Irange, 
Be  it  for  euer  call'd,  the  Royal  Exchange. 

AfloriJJi  here. 


you  know  no  body.  319 

And  whilft  this  voice    flies  through  the  City  forth 
right, 

Arife  Sir  Thomas  Gre/ham  now  a  knight. — 
Be  our  Ambaffadors  conducted  all 
Vnto  their  feuerall  lodgings. — This  23.  of  January, 
A  thoufand,  fiue  hundred,  and  feuenty,  Elizabeth 
Chriftens  this  famous  worke.     Now  to  our  Court 
Of  Greenwich. — Gre/ham,  thanks  for  our  good  cheere. 
We  to  our  people,  they  to  vs  are  deare.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Nowell  and  Lady  Ramfie. 

Lady  R.     What  think  you  of  my  husband,  Matter 

•     Deane  1 

Now.     As  of  all  men  :  we  are  mortal,   made  of 

clay, 

Now  healthful,  now  crafie,  now  fick,  now  well, 
Now  Hue,  now  dead ;  and  then  to  heauen  or  hell. 

Lady  R.     It  cheeres  my  heart,  now,  in  his  deepe  of 

ficknefs, 

He  is  fo  charitable,  and  fo  well  addicted 
Vnto  the  poores  relief. 

Now.     It  ioyes  me  too. 
Great  is  the  number  of  the  rich  in  mew 
About  the  city,  but  of  the  charitable 
There  are  but  few. 

La.  R.     Amongfl  thefe,  I   hold   old  Hobfon  well 

deferues 

To  be  ranckt  equal  with  the  bountifullefl. 
He  hath  rais'd  many  falling,  but  efpecially 
One  Matter  Rowland,  once  call'd  Tawny-coat, 
But  now  an  able  citizen,  late  chofen 
A  matter  of  the  Hofpital. 

Now.     I  know  him  well ; 
A  goodx  fufficient  man ;  and  fince  he  purchatt 
His  freedom  in  the  city,  God  hath  blett 
His  trauaile  with  increafe. 

La.  R.     I  haue  knowne  old  Hobfon 
Sit  with  his  neighbour  Gunter,  a  good  man, 


\ 

320  If  you  know  not  me, 

In  Chrifts  Church,  morn  by  morn,  to  watch  poore 

couples 

That  come  there  to  be  married,  and  to  be 
Their  common  fathers,  and  giue  them  in  the  Church, 
And  fome  few  angels  for  a  dower  to  boot. 
Befides,  they  two  are  call'd  the  common  goffips, 
To  witnefs  at  the  Fount  for  poore  mens  children. 
None  they  refufe  that  on  their  helpe  do  call ; 
And  to  fpeake  truth  they're  bountifull  to  all. 

Enter  Hobfon. 

Hob.     Good    morrow,    Mafter    Doftor,   my  good 

lady! 

Bones-a-me,  woman,  thou  look'ft  fad  to-day ; 
Thou  haft  not  drunk  a  cup  of  fack  this  morning. 
La.  R.     We  haue  beene  dealing  of  our  charity 
This  morning  to  poor  foldiers,  fuch  as  want. 

Hob.     Gods  bleffing  of  your  heart :   need  mufl  be 

fed. 
Let  vs  that  haue  it  giue  the  hungry  bread. 

Enter  Rowland,  alias  Tawny-coat. 

Taw.     Where's  Mafter  Hobfon  ? 

Hob.     My  new  elected  mafter  of  the  Hofpital, 
What  hafty  newes  with  you  1 

Taw.     Oh,  fir,  the  loue   I  beare  you  makes  me 

chary 

Of  your  good  name  ;  your  credit's  deare  to  me. 
You  neuer  were  condemn'd  for  any  thing, 
Since  I  had  nrft  acquaintance  with  your  name, 
As  now  you  are.     You  haue  done  a  deed  this  day, 
That  hath  from  you  tane  all  good  thoughts  away. 

Hob.     Where  1  bones-a-me  !     Why  ?  fpeak,  why  1 

Taw.     This  day  you  haue  purfued  the  law  feuerely 
Again  ft  one  Timothy,  that  ftole  from  you 
A  hundred  pound ;  and  he's  condemn'd  for  it, 
And  this  day  he  muft  dye. 


you  know  no  body. 


321 


Hob.     Bones,  man  !  'tis  not  fo. 

Taw.     He  is  by  this  half  way  to  Tyburne  gone. 
The  fuit  was  follow'd  in  John  Grejhams  name ; 
How  can  you  then  avow  you  know  it  not  ? 

Hob.     A  horfe,    a   horfe,    cart   horfe,    malt-horfe, 

any  thing 

To  faue  the  knaue's  life  1     I  proteft,  I  fweare, 
This  was  the  firfl  time  that  I  heard  the  knaue 
Hath  been  in  any  trouble.     Bones-a-me, 
'Twas  done  without  my  knowledge. 

Taw.     Young    Gre/ham  in  his  name  purfu'd   his 
life. 

Hob.     They 'are  knaues  both. — A  horfe  ! 
A  hundred  thoufand  pound  cannot  make  a  man ; 
A  hundred  mall  not  hang  one  by  my  meanes  : 
Men  are  more  worth  then  money,  M.  Rowland. 
Come  help  me  to  a  horfe.     The  next  I  meet, 
To  faue  the  knaues  life,  gallops  through  the  (Ireet. 

Exeunt  Hobfon  and  Tawney-coat. 

Now.     Men  are  more  worth  then  money,  he  fays 

.true ; 
'Tis  faid  by  many,  but  maintain'd  by  few. 

Lady.     He  is  plain  and  honefl :  how  many  great 

profeffors 

Liue  in  this  populous  city,  that  make  (hew 
Of  greater  zeal,  yet  will  not  pay  fo  deare 
For  a  tranfgreffors  life.     But  few  are  found 
To  faue  a  man  would  lofe  a  hundred  pound. 

Enter  Tawney-coat. 

Now.     So  fuddenly  returned  ? 

Taw.     He  rid  too  fall  for  me.     He  hath  beene  at 

buffets 

With  a  poor  collier,  and  vpon  his  horfe 
Is,  without  faddle,  bridle,  boots,  or  fpurs, 
Gallopt  towards  S.  Giles. 

Now.     They  will  take  him  for  a  madman. 
Taw.    All's   one  to   him  :  he  does  not  (land  on 
brauery, 


322  If  you  know  not  me, 

So  he  may  doe  men  good.     Good  deeds  excel ; 
And,  though  but  homely  done,  may  be  done  well. 

Lady  R.     Heauen  profper  his  intent.  —  Now,   M. 

Doaor, 

And  M.  Rowland,  let  rne  craue  your  companies 
To  fee  my  crazy  husband,  who  hath  made  you 
One  of  his  executors,  and  would  vfe  your  paines 
In  thefe  extreames  of  ficknefs. 

Now.     I  am  pleas'd  ; 
He  giue  him  phyficke  for  a  foule  difeas'd.          Exeunt. 

Enter  three  Lords. 

1.  You  are  an  early  rifer,  my  good  lord. 

2.  The  blood  of  youth  that  trafficks  in  the  Court 
Mufl  not  be  fluggifh  ;  your  kind  remembrance. 

3.  My  very  good  lord, 

We,  that  are  liars  that  waite  vpon  the  traine 
Of  fuch  a  Cynthia  vnder  which  we  liue, 
Mufl  not  be  tardie. 

1.  You  haue  faid  true:    we  are  flarters  in  one 
houre, 

And  our  attendance  is  to  waite  on  fuch  a  Queen e, 
Whofe  vertue  all  the  world  :  but  to  leaue  that, 
Which  euery  tongue  is  glad  to  commune  with, 
Since  Monfiers  firfl  arriual  in  the  Land, 
The  time  that  he  was  here,  and  the  time  fince, 
What  royalty  hath  beene  in  Englands  Court, 
Both  princely  reuelling  and  warlike  fport ! 

2.  Such  fports  do  fitly  fit  our  nation, 
That  forraine  eyes  beholding  what  we  are, 
May   rather  feek  our  peace  then  wifh  our  war. 

3.  Heauen  blefs  our  foueraign  from  her  foes  in 
tent, 

The  peace  we  haue  is  by  her  gouemment. 

Enter  DoEl.  Parry. 
i.     M.  Dodlor  Parry. 


you  know  no  body.  323 

2.  Good  morrow,  M.  Doctor. 

3.  You  are  an  early  rifer,  fir. 

Dr.     My  lord,  my  lord,  my  very  good  lord. 

1.  This  fummer  morning  makes  vs  couetous 
To  take  the  profit  of  the  pleafant  aire. 

D.     'Tis  healthful  to  be  flirring  in  a  morning. 

2.  It  hath  pleas'd  the  Queene,  to  mew  him  many 
fauours. 

3.  You  fay  but  right ;  and  fmce  his  laft  difgrace, 
The  caufe  fo  great  it  had  furely  touch'd  his  life, 
Had  not  the  Queen  been  gracious,  he  feems  at  Court 
A  man  more  gracious  in  our  foueraign's  eye, 

Then  greater  fubiects. 

2.  She  hath  giuen  him  much  preferment, 
In  greatefl  place  grac't  him  with  conference, 
Ask't  for  him  in  his  abfence  ;  and,  indeed, 
Made  knowne  to  vs  he  is  one  in  her  regard. 

3.  But  did  you  neuer  heare  the  caufe  of  his  dif 
grace  ? 

2.  He  did  intend  the  murther  of  a  gentleman 
One,  M.  Hare,  here,  of  the  Inner  Temple, 

And  fo  farre  brought  his  purpofe  to  effect, 

That  M.  Hare  being  priuate  in  his  chamber, 

He  watching,  as  he  thought  fit  time,  broke  in  vpon 

him ; 

But  he,  affaulted  fo,  behau'd  himfelf, 
That  he  did  guard  himfelf,  and  attach't  him. 
From  whence  he  was  committed  vnto  Neiugate, 
And  at  the  Seflions,  by  twelue  honed  men, 
Found  guilty  of  burglary,  and  condemn'd  to  die  : 
And  had  died,  had  her  grace  not  pardon'd  him. 

3.  She  is  a  gracious  princelfe  vnto  all. 
Many  fhe  raifeth,  wimeth  none  mould  fall. 

i.     Fie,  M.  Doaor, 

Your  face  beares  not  the  habit  it  was  wont, 
And  your  difcourfe  is  alter'd  :  what's  the  mattei  ? 

Dr.     And  if  my  brow  be  fad,  or  my  face  pale, 
They  do  belye  my  heart,  for  I  am  merry. 

i.     Men  being,  as  you  are,  fo  great  in  grace 

Y  2 


324  If  you  know  not  me, 

With  fuch  a  royal  princeffe,  haue  no  reafon. 

Enter  a  Gentleman. 
Gent.     Room  for  my  Lord  high  Steward. 

Enter  the  Earl  of  Lecefler ;  all  the  Lords  flocke 
after  him,  and  exeunt.     Manet  Parry. 

Dr.    The  difcontented  defire  to  be  alone  : 
My  wifhes  are  made  vp,  for  they  are  gone. 
Here  are  no  blabs  but  this,  and  this  one  clocke 
He  keep  from  going  with  a  double  locke. 
Yet  it  will  flrike  :  this  day  it  mufl  be  done. 
What  mufl  be  done  ?  what  muft  this  engine  do  ? 
A  deed  of  treafon  hath  prepar'd  me  to. 
Thefe  two,  thefe  two  ;  why  they  had  life  by  her, 
And  mall  thefe  two  kill  their  deliuerer, 
The  life  that  makes  me  rife  1  thefe  once  my  fin 
Had  forfeited  ;  her  mercy  pardon'd  me. 
I  had  beene  eaten  vp  with  worms  ere  this, 
Had  not  her  mercy  giuen  a  life  to  this  ; 
And  yet  thefe  hands,  if  I  performe  my  oath, 
Mufl  kill  that  life  that  gaue  a  life  to  both, 
I  haue  tane  the  Sacrament  to  do't,  conferr'd 
With  Cardinal  Como  about  it,  and  receiu'd 
Full  abfolution  from  his  Holineffe  : 
Been  fatisfied  by  many  holy  fathers, 
During  my  trauels  both  in  France  and  Italyy 
The  deed  is  iufl  and  meritorious. 
And  yet  I  am  troubled  when  I  do  remember 
The  excellency  of  her  Maiefty ; 
And  I  would  faine  defifl,  but  that  I  know 
How  many  vowes  of  mine  are  gone  to  heauen, 
My  letters  and  my  promifes  on  earth, 
To  holy  fathers  and  graue  Catholikes, 
That  I  would  do't  for  good  of  Catholikes, 
Then,  in  the  garden  where  this  day  me  walkes, 


you  know  no  body.  325 

Her  graces  I  will  cad  behind  mine  eyes, 
And  by  a  fubiects  hand  a  Soueraign  dies. 

Enter  Gent. 

Gent.     Clear  the  way,  gentlemen,  for  the  Queen  ! 
Matter  Do&or  Parry,  Exit  Gent. 

Dr.     O  let  me  fee  a  difference  in  this  man. 
Before  this  Queen  (that  I  am  come  to  kill) 
Shew'd  me  the  gracious  eye  of  her  refpecl, 
And  gaue  me  countenance  'mongft  greateft  earls, 
This  man  was  forwarder  to  thrufl  me  forth, 
Then  now  he  is  humble  to  accept  me  in. 
If,  then,  her  grace  hath  honor'd  me  fo  much, 
How  can  this  hand  giue  her  a  treacherous  touch  ? 
The  trumpets  fpeak ;  Heauen  !  what  (hall  I  do  ? 
Euen  what  hell  and  my  damn'd  heart  mall  thruft  me 
to. 

Enter  Queen,  Letter,  and  Lords. 

Queen.     Fair  day,  my  lords.     You  are  all  larkes, 

this  morning; 
Vp  with  the  fun  :  you  are  {lining  earely. 

Lecef.     We  are  all  fubiecls  to  your  foueraignes  light' 

Queen.  That  you  call  duty,  we  accept  as  loue, 
And  we  do  thanke  you  \  nay,  we  thanke  you  all : 
Tis  not  to  one,  but  'tis  in  general. 

Left.     The  Queen  would  walke  apart :  forbear,  my 
lords. 

Dr.     Now,  what  makes  me  (hake  ? 
Doe  angels  guard  her,  or  doth  Heauen  pertake 
Her  refuge  ? 

Queen.     In  fuch  a  garden  may  a  foueraigne 
Be  taught  her  louing  fubiects  to  maintaine. 
Each  plant,  vnto  his  nature  and  his  worth, 
Hairing  full  cheriming,  it  fpringeth  forth. 
Weedes  mutt  be  weeded  out,  yet  weeded  fo, 
Till  they  doe  hurt,  let  them  a  Gods  name  grow. 

Dr.     Now  Queene.  He  offers  to  /hoot. 


326  If  yoit,  know  not  me. 

Queen.     Who's  there  ?   my  kind  friend,  M.  Doctor 

Parry  1 

Dr.     My  mofl  dread  foveraign. 
Queen.     Why  do  you  tremble,  M.  Doctor  ?     Haiie 

you  any  fute  to  vs  ? 

Shake  not  at  vs ;  we  doe  our  fubiects  loue. 
Or  does  thy  face  mow  fignes  of  difcontent 
Through  any  heauie  want  oppreffeth  thee  ? 

As  Jhe  turnes  back,  he  offers  tojhoote,  but 
returning  he  withdrawes  his  hand. 
Though  at  our  Court  of  Greenwich  thou  wer't  croft, 
In  fuing  to  be  Mafter  of  St.  Katherines, 
To  do  thee  good  feeke  out  a  better  place  : 
She'le   giue   thee  that,   the  which  hath    giuen   thee 

grace. 

Dr.     I  know  your  loue  dread  Queene — Now. 
Queen.     Mafter   Doctor  about  the   talke  we  had 

together 

Of  I£nglim  Fugitiues  that  feeke  my  life  : 
You  told  me  of  them  I  am  beholding  to  you. 

Dr.     I  did  no  more  then  duty. — O,  happy  time  ! 
Queen.     And  will  they  ftill  perfift  ?    doe  they  defire 

my  blood, 

That  wake,  when  I  mould  fleepe,  to  doe  them  good  I 
Dr.     Madam ! 

Queen.     Oh,  my  Maker  ! — Parry,  villain,  traitor, 
What  doofl  thou  with  that  dagge  ? 
Dr.     Pardon,  dread  foveraign. 
Queen.     Pardon,  thou  villain,   fhewes   thou  art   a 

traitor. 
Treafon,  my  lords,  treafon. 

Enter  the  Lords. 

Left.     Ha  !  by  the  bleft  place  of  Heauen,  treafon, 

and  we  fo  neare  ? 

A  traitour  with  a  dagge  !  Gods  holy  mother  ! — 
Lords,  guard  the  Queene. — Are  you  not  frighted, 

madam  ? 
He  play  the  fergeant  to  arrefl  the  wretch. 


you  know  no  body.  327 

Queen.     Be  not  fo  rafli,  good  Lecejler :  he's  dead 

already ; 

Struck  with  remorfe  of  that  he  was  to  doe. 
Pray  let  me  fpeak  with  him. — Say,  M.  Doctor, 
Wherein  haue  I  deferu'd  an  ill  of  you, 
Vnlefs  it  were  an  ill  in  pardoning  you. 
What  haue  I  done  toward  you  to  feeke  my  life, 
Vnlels  it  were  in  taking  you  to  grace  ? 

Dr.     Mercy,  dread  Queene  ! 

Queen.     I  thank  my  God  I  haue  mercy  to  remit 
A  greater  fin,  if  you  repent  for  it.     Arife. 

Leic.     My  lords,  what  do  you  mean  ?  take  hence 

that  villain. 

Let  her  alone,  fhe'le  pardon  him  againe. 
Good  Queen,  we  know  you  are  too  mercifull 
To  deale  with  traitours  of  this  monflrous  kinde. 
Away  with  him  to  the  Tower,  then  to  death. — 
A  traitours  death  mall  fuch  a  traitour  haue, 
That  feeks  his  foueraignes  life  that  did  him  faue. 

Queen.     Good  Lecejler. 

Lee.     Good  Queen,  you  muft  be  rul'd.          Exeunt. 

Enter  lacke  Grejham. 

John.  Nay,  'sfoot,  Jack,  hold  on  thy  refolution. 
They  fay  that  may  happen  in  one  hour  that  happens 
lot  againe  in  7.  yeare :  and  I  mould  chance  to  take  her 
n  the  right  vaine,  and  me  kindly  beftow  herfelfe  vpon 
me,  why  then  there's  a  man  made  from  nothing ;  for, 
before  God,  I  haue  fpent  all,  and  am  not  worth  any 
thing.  And,  indeed,  unlelfe  this  fame  good  old  Lady 
Ramfey  take  fome  pitie  vpon  me,  and  take  me  for 
better  for  worfe,  God  knowes  in  which  of  the  two 
Counters  I  mall  keepe  my  next  Chriftmas  in  !  But, 
by  this  hand,  if  Ihee  will  accept  of  mee  in  this 
miferable  eftate  that  I  am  in  now — for,  before  God, 
I  haue  neither  money  nor  credit,  as  I  am  an  honed 
man — and  that's  more,  I  am  afear'd  then  any  man 
will  beleeue  of  me — ile  forfwear  all  women  but  her, 


328  If  you  know  not  mey 

and  will  not  kiffe  any  of  my  neighbours  wiues  fo: 
kingdome. — Here's  the  houfe  :  He  knock  at  the  door. 
—What,  (halt  I  doot  in  the  caualier  humour,  with, 
Whofe  within,  there  ho !  or  in  the  Puritan  humour, 
with,  By  your  leaue,  good  brother.  Faith,  in  neither ; 
for  in  the  one  I  mall  be  taken  for  a  fwaggering  kraue, 
and  in  the  other,  to  be  an  hypocritical  fool;  but 
honeft  Jack,  in  thine  owne  honeft  humour.  Plain 
dealing's  a  iewell,  and  I  haue  vs'd  it  fo  long,  I  am  next 
door  to  a  begger. 

Enters.  Creditors. 

But,  Gods  precious,  what  a  plague  make  thefe  here  ? 
Thefe  two  are  two  of  my  creditors  :  I  mufl  flop  their 
mouths,  fleet  them  from  hence,  or  all  the  fat's  in  the 
fire. 

1.  M.  Gre/ham,  you  are  well  met. 

John.  I  hope,  gentlemen,  you  will  fay  fo  anon. 
But  you  are  alone,  are  you  not  ? 

2.  Alone  M.  Grejham,  why  doe  you  aske  1 
John.     A  man  hath  reafon  to  aske,  being  as  I  am, 

that  neuer  feeth  his  creditors  but  is  afeard  of  the 
catch-pole.  But  you  are  kind,  my  friends  j  and,  I 
thanke  you,  you  will  beare  with  me. 

i.  I  but  M.  Grejhani)  a  man  may  beare  till  his 
backe  breake. 

John.  I,  porters  may ;  but  you  that  are  fubftantial 
honed  citizens,  there  is  no  feare  to  be  made  of  your 
breaking.  You  know  there's  no  man  fo  low,  but  God 
can  raife  him ;  and  though  I  am  now  out  at  heeles, 
or  fo  as  you  thinke,  I  am  in  the  way  of  preferment, 
and  hope  to  be  able  to  pay  euery  man  within  this 
hour. 

1.  We  mould  be  glad  to  fee  it. 

2.  But  how,  pray,  fir  ? 

John.  How  ?  why,  very  eafily,  if  I  can  compafie 
it.  The  truth  is,  though  you  would  little  think  it,  I 
am  fuitor  for  my  L.  Ramfey. 

2.     But  I  dare  fweare  fhe  is  no  fuiter  to  you. 


you  know  no  body.  329 

Enter  Lady  Ramfey  and  D.  Nowell. 

John.  Why,  that's  true,  too ;  for  if  (he  were  a 
filter  to  me,  we  fhould  be  man  and  wife  ftraight,  and 
you  mould  haue  your  money  within  this  halfe  houre. 
But  looke  ;  looke  where  me  comes  :  as  you  are  good 
men,  mum ;  patience,  and  pray  for  my  proceedings. 
If  I  doe  fpeed,  as  I  am  partly  perfwaded,  you  (hall 
haue  your  own,  with  the  aduantage  :  If  I  mould  be 
croft,  you  know  the  worft ;  forbearance  is  no  acquit 
tance.  But  mum  !  if  it  proue  a  match,  and  any  of 
you  mould  chance  to  be  in  the  Counter,  you  know, 
my  marriage  being  fpread,  my  word  will  be  currant, 
then  mum. 

Now.     Madam,   you   are  welcome    into   Lumber- 

Jlreet. 

Lady.     I  thanke  your  curtefie,  good  M.  Dean. 
John.     See  how  fortunatly  all  things  chance.     If 
it  happen    as   I   hope    it   will,  (he   taking  a  liking 
to  me,  here  is   a  priefl    to    marry    us    prefently. — 
Madam. 

Lady.  Would  you  any  bufmeffe  with  me,  fir  ? 
John.  Faith,  lady,  neceffary  bufmes  ;  and  not  to 
go  far  about  the  bum,  I  am  come  to  be  a  futer  vnto 
you.  And  you  know  the  famion  of  young  men,  when 
they  come  awooing  to  ancient  widowes,  the  way  to 
fpeed  is  to  begin  thus. 

Lady.  You  are  very  forward  fir. 
John.  You  would  fay  fo,  lady,  if  you  knew  how 
forward  I  would  be.  But,  madam,  you  are  rich,  and 
by  my  troth,  I  am  very  poore,  and  I  haue  beene,  as  a 
man  mould  fay,  ftark  naught ;  but  he  goes  far  that 
neuer  turns ;  and  if  now  I  haue  a  defire  to  mend,  and 
being  in  fo  good  a  way,  you  know  how  vncharitable 
it  were  in  you  to  put  me  out  of  it.  You  may  make 
an  honed  man  of  me,  if  it  pleafe  you ;  and  when  thou 
haft  made  me  one,  by  my  troth  Mall  He  keep  myfelf, 
for  I  am  a  gentleman  both  by  the  fathers  fide  and 
mothers  fide  j  and,  though  I  haue  not  the  mucke  of 


33°  IJ  you  know  not  me, 

the  world,  I  haue  a  great  deale  of  good  loue,  and  I 
prethee  accept  of  it. 

Lady.     M.  Dean, 
Do  you  know  this  gentlemans  bufmefs  to  me  1 

Now.     Not  I,  beleeue  me,  madam. 

John.  I  mail  haue  her  fure. — Why,  ile  tell  you, 
fir.  My  lady  here  is  a  comely,  ancient,  rich  widow, 
and  I  am  an  honeft,  proper,  poore  young  man,  re 
membering  ftill  I  am  a  gentlemen  :  now,  what  good 
her  riches  may  do  to  my  pouertie,  your  granitic  may 
gheffe  ;  faue  a  foule,  perhaps,  M.  Dean.  Look  you, 
fir  :  it  is  but  giuing  my  hand  into  hers,  and  hers  into 
mine.  M.  Deane,  I  proteft  before  God  fhee  hath  my 
heart  already ;  and  with  fome  three  or  four  words, 
which  I  know  you  haue  by  rote,  make  vs  two,  my 
Lady  and  I,  one,  till  death  vs  depart. 

Lady  R.  This  gentleman  thinks  that  to  be  a  mat 
ter  of  nothing. — But  doe  you  loue  me  as  you  doe  pro- 
ted? 

John.  Loue  you,  madam  1  loue  you,  by  this  hand. 
— I  mall  haue  her,  fure. — Friends,  you  fee  how  the 
bufmeffe  goes  forward  ;  bring  me  your  bills  to-morrow 
morning ;  or,  vpon  the  hope  that  I  haue,  you  may 
leaue  them  with  me :  I  mail  be  able  to  difcharge. — 
Ha  !  ha  !  Jacke. 

Lady.  How  will  you  maintain  me,  fir,  if  I  mould 
marry  you  ? 

John.  Maintaine !  what  needfl  thou  aske  that 
queftion  ?  Foot  tho'u  hafl  maintenance  ynough  for 
thee  and  I  too.  If  I  mould  marry  you  ! — Friends, 
you  fee  how  it  goes  now  :  to-morrow,  within  an  houre 
after  I  am  married,  I  muft  lake  the  vpper  hand  of  my 
vncle ;  and  the  next  Sunday,  I,  that  was  fcarce  worthy 
to  fit  in  the  belferie,  the  churchwardens  fetch  me,  and 
feat  me  in  the  Chauncel. 

Lady.      M.  Deane,  I    protefl,  neuer   fince    I    was 

widow 

Neuer  did  man  make  fo  much  loue  to  me. 
Sir,  for  your  loue,  I  am  much  beholding  to  you. 


•you  know  no  body.  331 

John.  Do  Molly  prithee  do  not  think  it  fo. — Be 
chofen  one  of  the  Common  Counfell,  or  one  of  the 
Matters  of  the  Hofpital,  fo  perhaps  I  mall  neuer  be 
come  it.  Marry,  if  I  mould  be  chofen  one  of  the 
Maflers  of  Bridewell,  for  fome  of  my  old  acquaintance, 
foot,  I  would  take  it  vpon  me  :  vice  muft  be  corrected, 
vice  muft  be  corrected. 

Lady.     Fill  me  a  large  cup  full  of  hippocras, 
And  bring  me  hither  20. 11.  in  gold. 

John.  And  one  of  your  husbands  liuery  gownes. 
So  now  you  trouble  yourfelf  fo  much :  that  gold  is  to 
contract  vs  withal. — A  fimple  morning  ;  friends,  you 
cannot  beat  me  downe  with  your  bills. — M.  Deane  of 
Powles,  I  pray  you  flay  and  dine  with  me  ;  you  mail 
not  fay  me  nay  :  the  oftner  you  come,  the  more  wel 
come. 

Now.     You  are  merry,  fir. 

John.     I  thank  God,  and  all  the  world  may  fee,  I 

haue  no  other  caufe, 
That  I  am  likely  to  be  fo  well  beftowed. 

Lady.     Sir,  you  mail  not  fay  the  loue  you  fhew'd  to 

me. 

Was  entertain'd  but  with  kind  curtefy  : 
This  for  your  loue  vnto  your  health  I  drinke. 
Pledge  me. 

John.  I  by  my  troth,  Mall  will  I,  were  it  as  deepe 
as  a  well. 

Lady.     Now,  for  your  paines,  there  is  twenty  pound 

in  gold. 

Nay,  take  the  cup  too  fir.     Thanks  for  your  loue  ; 
And  were  my  thoughts  bent  vnto  marriage, 
I  rather  would  with  you,  that  feeme  thus  wild, 
Then  one  that  hath  worfe  thoughts,  and  feemes  more 
mild. 

John.     Foot,  will  you  not  haue  me,  then  ? 

Lady  R.     Yes,  when  I  mean  to  marry  any  one ; 
And  that  not  whilfl  I  Hue. 

John.  See  how  a  man  may  be  deceiued  !  I  thought 


332  If  you  know  not  me, 

I  fhould  haue  beene  fure,  by  this  time. — Well, 
though  I  (hall  not  haue  you,  I  mall  haue  this  with  a 
good  will. 

Lady.     With  all  my  heart;  and  for  the  loue  you 

haue  mown, 
Wifh  it  to  thriue  with  you,  euen  as  mine  own. 

1 .  To-morrow  mall  we  attend  your  worlhip  ? 

2.  Sir,    heres     my    bill;    it    comes    to    twenty 
pound. 

John.  Friend,  Ploy  dens  prouerb,  the  cafe  is  altered : 
and,  by  my  troth,  I  haue  learn'd  you  a  leffon ;  forbear 
ance  is  no  acquittance. 

Lady.     What  men  are  thefe  1 

John.  Faith,  madam,  men  that  haue  my  hand, 
though  not  for  my  honefty,  yet  for  the  money  that  I 
owe  them. 

Lady.     What  doth  he  owe  you  ? 

1.  Fiftie  pound,  madam. 
Lady.     What  you  ? 

2.  A  hundred  marks. 

Lady.     He   pay   you   both. — And,  fir,  to    do  you 

good, 
To  all  your  creditors  He  do  the  like. 

John.     Thats  faid  like  a  kind  wench  j 
And  though  we  neuer  meet  again, 
We  will  haue  one  buffe  more  at  parting. — 
And  now,  i'faith,  I  haue  all  my  wild  oats  fown, 
And  if  I  can  grow  rich  by  the  helpe  of  this, 
He  fay  I  rofe  by  Lady  Ramfeys  kifs.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Chorus. 

From  fifty  eight,  the  firft  yeare  of  her  raigne, 
We  come  to  eighty-eight,  and  of  her  raigne 
The  thirtieth  yeare.     This  Queen  inaugurated, 
And  flrongly  planted  in  her  peoples  heart, 
Was  in  her  youth  folicited  in  marriage 
By  many  princely  heires  of  Chriflendom, 


,,,. 


you  know  no  body.  333 

Especially  by  Philip,  King  of  Spaine, 

Her  fitters  husband  ;  who  to  achieue  his  ends, 

Had  got  a  difpenfation  from  the  Pope  : 

But,  after  many  treats  and  embaffies, 

Finding  his  hopes  in  her  quite  fruflrated, 

Aims  all  his  ftratagems,  plots,  and  defignes, 

Both  to  the  vtter  ruine  of  our  land, 

And  our  religion.     But  th'  vndaunted  Queene, 

Fearing  no  threats,  but  willing  to  flrike  firft, 

Sets  forth  a  fleete  of  one-and-twenty  faile 

To  the  Weft  Indies,  vnder  the  condudl 

Of  Francis  Drake  and  Chriftopher  Carlisle  \ 

Who  fet  on  Cap  de  Verd,  then  Hifpaniola, 

Setting  on  fire  the  towns  of  S.  Anthony 

And  S.  Dominick.     The  proud  Spaniard, 

Enraged  at  this  affront,  fends  forth  a  fleet, 

Three  whole  yeares  in  preparing,  to  fubuert, 

Ruine,  and  quite  depopulate  this  land. 

Imagine  you  now  fee  them  vnder  fail, 

S well'd  vp  with  many  a  proud,  vaineglorious  boaft, 

And  newly  enter'd  in  our  Englijh  coaft.  Exit. 

Enter  the  Duke  of  Medina,  Don  Pedro,  John  Mani- 
nus  RicalduSj  and  other  Spaniards. 

Med.     We  are  where  we  long  wifht  to  be  at  laft ; 
And  now  this  elephants  burden,  our  Armado, 
Three  years  an  embrion,  is  at  length  produc'd, 
And  brought  into  the  world  to  Hue  at  fea. 
Nonfufficit  orbis,  our  proud  Spani/h  motto 
By  th'  Englijh  mockt,  and  found  at  Carthagen, 
Shall  it  not  now  take  force  ? 
Can  England  fatisfie  our  auarice, 
That    worlds    cannot    fuffize  1      What    thinks   ' Don 
Pedro  *{ 

Ped.     Alphonfus  Perez  Guifman, 
Duke  of  Medina  and  Sidonia, 
And  royal  general  of  our  great  Armado, 
I  think  we  come  too  ftrong.     What's  our  defigne 


334  If  you  know  not  me, 

Againft  a  petty  ifland  gouernd  by  a  woman  ? 
I  thinke,  inflead  of  military  men, 
Garnifh'd  with  armes  and  martiall  difcipline, 
She,  with  a  feminine  traine 
Of  her  bright  ladies,  beautifull'ft  and  beft, 
Will  meet  vs  in  their  fmocks,  willing  to  pay 
Their  maidenheads  for  ranfome. 

Med.     Think'ft  thou  fo,  Don  Pedro  ? 

Fed.     I  therein  am  confident ; 
And  partly  forry  that  our  King  of  Spaine 
Hath  been  at  charge  of  fuch  a  magazine, 
When  halfe  our  men  and  ammunition 
Might  haue  beene  fpar'd. 

Med.     Thou  put'fl  me  now  in  minde 
Of  the  Grand  Signior,  who,  (fome  few  yeares  fmce) 
When  as  the  great  Ambaffadour  of  Spaine 
Importun'd  him  for  aid  againft  the  land 
Styl'd  by  the  title  of  the  Maiden  Ifle, 
Calls  for  a  mappe  :  now,  when  the  Ambaffadour 
Had  fhow'd  him  th'  Indies,  all  America, 
Some  parts  of  Afta,  and  Europa  too, 
Climes  that  took  vp  the  greateft  part  o'  th'  card, 
And  finding  England  but  a  fpot  of  earth,, 
Or  a  few  acres,  if  at  all,  compard 
To  our  fo  large  and  fpacious  prouinces, 
Denies  him  aid,  as  much  againfl  his  honour 
To  fight  with  fuch  a  centuple  of  oddes  ; 
But  gaue  him  this  aduice  :  Were  I  (faid  he) 
As   your    great   King   of  Spaine,   out   of   my   king- 
domes 

Ide  preffe  or  hire  fo  many  pioneers, 
As  with  their  fpades  and  mattocks  mould  digge  vp 
This  wart  of  Earth,  and  cafl  it  in  the  Sea. 
And  well  methought  he  fpake. 

Fed.     We  haue  fhowne  ourfelues, 
But  are  as  yet  vnfought  with. 

Med.     All  their  hearts 

Are  dead  within  'em  ;  wee,  I  feare,  mall  finde 
Their  feas  vnguarded,  and  their  fhoares  vnmann'd, 


you  know  no  body.  335 

And  conquer  without  battaile. 

Rical.     All  their  honours 
And  offices  we  haue  difpofd  already. 
There's  not  a  noble  family  in  Spaine, 
In  Naples,  Portugal \  nay  Italy, 
That  hath  not  in  our  fleete  fome  eminent  perfon 
To  (hare  in  this  rich  booty. 

Med.  John  Martinus  Ricaldus,  you  our  prime  naui- 

gator, 

Since  fam'd  Columbus  or  great  Mageline, 
Giue  vs  a  briefe  relation  of  the  ftrength 
And  potency  of  this  our  great  Armado, 
Chriflend,  by  th'  Pope,  the  Nauy  Inuincible. 

Rical.     Twelue  mighty  gallions  of  Portugale ; 
Fourteene  great  mips  of  Biskey,  of  Caflile ; 
Eleuen  tall  mips  of  Andelofia  ; 
Sixteen  gallions,  fourteen  of  Guipufcoa  ; 
Ten  fail  that  run  by  th'  name  o'  th'  Eailern  fleet ; 
The  mips  of  Ureas,  Zaibras,  Naples  ;  gallies, 
Great  galliaffes,  fly-boats,  pinnaces, 
Amounting  to  the  number  of  an  hundred 
And  thirty  tight,  tall  faile  ;  the  moft  of  them 
Seeming  like  caftles  built  vpon  the  fea. 

Med.     And  what  can  all  their  barges,  cockboats, 

oares, 

Small  veffels  (better  to  be  faid  to  creepe 
Then  fail  vpon  the  ocean)  doe  'gainft  thefe  ? 
They  are  o'ercome  already. 

Rical.     All  their  burdens, 

Fifty-feuen  thoufand  eight  hundred  fixty-eight  Tunne  ; 
In  them  nineteene  thoufand  two  hundred  ninety-nue 

fouldiers, 

Two  thoufand  eight  hundred  and  eighty  gaily  flaues, 
Eight  thoufand  fix  hundred  and  fifty  mariners, 
Two  thoufand  fix  hundred  and  thirty  peece  of  ord- 

'nance, 
Culuerin,  and  cannon. 

Med.     Half  thefe  would  fuffize  ; 


If  you  know  not  me, 

Nor  haue  we  need  of  fuch  furplufage, 
Againft  their  petty  fly-boats. 

Enter  a  Spaniard. 

Span.     We  haue  difcouer'd, 
Riding  along  the  coafls  of  France  and  Dunkerke, 
An  Englifh  nauy. 

Med.     Of  what  flrength,  what  force  ? 

Span.      Their    number    fmall,   yet    daring,   as    it 

feemes  : 

Their  Ihips  are  but  low  built,  yet  fwift  of  faile, 
Whether  their  purpofe  be  to  fight,  I  know  not ; 
They  beare  vp  brauely  with  vs. 

Fed.     Caft  our  fleet 
Into  a  wide  and  femi-circled  moone  ; 
And,  if  we  can  but  once  incompaffe  them, 
We'le  make  the  fea  their  graues,  and  themfelues  food 
For  the  fea  worme  call'd  haddock. 

Med.     Let's  faile  on 

Towards  the  Thames  mouth,  and  there  disburden  vs 
Of  our  land  fouldiers ; 

And  if  the  Prince  of  Parma  keepe  his  appointment, 
Who  (with  a  thoufand  able  men-at-arms, 
Old  fouldiers,  and  of  moll  approued  difcipline) 
Lies  garrifond  at  Dunkerke.  we  at  once 
Will  fwallow  vp  their  nation,  and  our  word 
Be  from  henceforth  Victoria. 

Omnes.      Victoria,  Victoria.  Exeunt. 

Med.     Had  we  no  other  forces  in  our  fleete, 
Nor  men,  nor  arms,  nor  ammunition, 
Powder,  nor  ord'nance,  but  our  empty  bottomes, 
Ballad  with  the  Papers  bleffing,  and  our  nauy 
Chriften'd  by  him  the  Nauy  Inuincible, 
We  had  enough  :  what's  more's  vnneceflary. 
Nor  thinke  we  threaten  England  all  in  vaine  ; 
Tis  ours,  and  we  heere  chriften  it  New  Spaine. 

Omnes.      Victoria^  Victoria. 


you  know  no  body.  337 

Drum  and  colours.  Enter  the  Earle  of  Lecefter,  the 
Earle  of  Hunfdon^  bearing  the  ftandard,  Queene 
Elizabeth,  compleatly  armedy  and  Souldiers. 

Queen.     A  ftand  ! — From  London  thus  far  haue  we 

marched ; 
Here  pitch  our  tents.     How  doe  you  call  this  place  ? 

Leic.     The  town  you  fee,  to  whom  thefe  downes 

belong, 
Giues  them  to  name  the  plains  of  Tilbery. 

Queen.     Be  this,  then,  ilil'd  our  camp  at  Tilbery  ; 
And  the  firfl  place  we  haue  been  feene  in  arms, 
Or  thus  accoutred,  here  we  fixe  our  foot, 
Not  to  ftir  backe,  were  we  fure  here  t'  incounter 
With  all  the  Spanifh  vengeance  threaten'd  vs, 
Came  it  in  fire  and  thunder.     Know,  my  fubiects, 
Your  Queene  hath  now  put  on  a  mafculine  fpirit, 
To  tell  the  bold  and  daring  what  they  are, 
Or  what  they  ought  to  be  \  and  fuch  as  faint, 
Teach  them,  by  my  example,  fortitude. 
Nor  let  the  beft  proou'd  foldier  here  difdaine 
A  woman  mouM  conduct  an  hoft  of  men, 
To  their  difgrace  or  want  of  prefident. 
Haue  you  not  read  of  braue  Zenobia, 
An  Eafterne  queene,  who  fac'd  the  Romaine  legions, 
Euen  in  their  pride  and  height  of  potency, 
And  in  the  field  incounter'd  perfonally 
Aurelianus  Cafart    Think  in  me 
Her  fpirit  furuiues,  Queen  of  this  weftern  ifle, 
To  make  the  fcorn'd  name  of  Elizabeth 
As  frightful  and  as  terrible  to  Spaine 
As  was  Zenobias  to  the  State  of  Rome. 
Oh  I  could  wifh  them  landed,  and  in  view, 
To  bid  them  inftant  battaile  ere  march  farther, 
Into  my  land.     This  is  my  vow,  my  reft ; 
I'le  paue  their  way  with  this  my  virgin  breft. 

Left.     But  (madam)  ere  that  day  come, 
There  will  be  many  a  bloody  nofe,  I,  and  crack5  d 
crown  : 


338  If  you  know  not  me, 

We  mall  make  work  for  furgeons. 

Queen.     I  hope  fo,  Le/ler.—¥Qi  you,  Sir  Anthony 

Browne, 

Though  your  religion  and  recufancy 
Might,  in  thefe  dangerous  and  fufpicious  times, 
Haue  drawne  your  loyalty  into  fufpecl, 
Yet  haue  you  herein  amply  clear'd  yourfelf, 
By  bringing  vs  fiue  hundred  men,  well  arm'd, 
And  your  owne  felfe  in  perfon. 

Sir  Antho.     Not  only  thofe,  but  all  that  I  enioy, 
Are  at  your  highnes  feryice. 

Queen.     Now,  Lord  Hunfdon, 
The  Lord-Lieutenant  of  our  force  by  land 
Vnder  our  general,  Lifter,  what  thinkeft  thou 
Of  their  Armado,  chriften'd  by  the  Pope 
The  Nauy  Inuindble  ? 

Huns.    That  there's  a  power  aboue  both  them  and 

vs, 

That  can  their  proud  and  haughty  menaces 
Conuert  to  their  owne  ruins. 

Queen.     Thinkeft  thou  fo,  Hunfdon  ? 
No  doubt  it  will. — Let  me  better  furuay  my  campe. 
Some  wine,  there  ! — A  health  to  all  my  fouldiers. 

Flourifh  trumpets. 

Methinks  I  do  not  fee,  'mongft  all  my  troops, 
One  with  a  courtiers  face,  but  all  look  foldier-like, 

A  peal  of  /hot  within, 

Whence  came  this  found  of  (hot  ? 

Leic.     It  feems,  the  nauy 
Styl'd  by  the  Pope  the  Nauy  Inuincible, 
Riding  along  the  coafl  of  France  and  Dunkerk, 
Difcouer'd  firft  by  Captaine  Thomas  Fleming, 
Is  met  and  fought  with  by  your  admiral. 

Queen*     Heauen  profper  their  defence  ! 
Oh  had  God  made  vs  man-like  like  our  mind, 
We'd  not  be  here  fenc'd  in  a  mure  of  armes, 
But  ha'  been  prefent  at  thefe  fea  alarmes.  Horn. 


you  know  no  body.  339 

Enter  i.  Pofl. 

Make  way,  there  ! — What's  the  news  ? 

i.     Heauen  blefle  your  Maiefty  ! 
Your  royal  fleet  bids  battaile  to  the  Spaniard, 
Whofe  number  with  aduantage  of  the  wind, 
Gains  them  great  odds  •  but  the  vndaunted  worth 
And  well  knowne  valour  of  your  admiral, 
Sir  Francis  Drake,  and  Martin  Furbi/her> 
John  Hawkins,  and  your  other  Englifh  captains, 
Takes  not  away  all  hope  of  victory. 

Queen.     Canfl  thou  defcribe   the   manner  of  the 

fight? 
And  where  the  royal  nauies  firft  incounter'd  1 

Poft.     From   Douer  cliff  we   might   difcern   them 

join 

'Twixt  that  and  Calice ;  there  the  fight  begun. 
Sir  Francis  Drake,  Vice- Admiral,  was  firft 
Gaue  an  onfet  to  this  great  Armado  of  Spaine ; 
The  manner  thus.     With  twenty-flue  fail, 
Thofe  mips  of  no  great  burden,  yet  well  mann'd, 
For  in  that  dreadful  confli'Tt  few  or  none 
Of  your  mips  royal  came  within  the  fight, 
This  Drake,  I  fay,  (whofe  memory  mall  Hue 
While  this  great  world,  he  compaft  firfl,  mall  lafl) 
Gaue  order  that  his  fquadrons,  one  by  one, 
Should  follow  him  fome  diftance,  flears  his  courfe, 
But  none  to  fhoote  till  he  himfelf  gaue  fire. 
Forward  he  fteer'd,  as  far  before  the  reft 
As  a  good  musket  can  well  beare  at  twice, 
And  as  a  fpy  comes  to  furuay  their  fleet, 
Which  feem'd  like  a  huge  city  built  on  the  fea. 
They  mot,  and  mot,  and  emptied  their  broadfides 
At  his  poor  fingle  veffel :  he  failes  on, 
Yet  all  this  while  no  fire  was  feene  from  him. 
The  reft  behind,  longing  for  action, 
Thought  he  had  beene  turn'd  coward,  that  had  done 
All  this  for  their  more  fafety.     He  now  finding 
Moft  of  their  prefent  fury  fpent  at  him, 

Z  2 


340  If  you  know  not  me, 

Fires  a  whole  tyre  at  once,  and  hauing  emptied 

A  full  broadfide,  the  reft  came  vp  to  him, 

And  did  the  like,  vndaunted.     Scarce  the  laft 

Had  paft  by  them,  but  Drake  had  clear' d  the  fea  ; 

For,  ere  th'  vnweildly  veffels  could  be  ftirr'd, 

Or  their  late  emptied  ord'nance  charg'd  agen, 

He  takes  aduantage  both  of  winde  and  tide, 

And  the  fame  courfe  he  took  in  his  progreffe, 

Doth  in  his  backe  returne  keepe  the  fame  order, 

Scouring  along,  as  if  he  would  befiege  them 

With  a  new  wall  of  fire,  in  all  his  fquadrons 

Leaning  no  charge  that  was  not  brauely  mann'd  : 

Infomuch,  that  blood  as  vifibly  was  feene 

To  pour  out  of  their  portholes,  in  fuch  manner 

As  after  fhowres  i'  th'  city,  fpouts  fpill  raine. 

And   thus   Drake  bad   them   welcome :    what    after 

happen'd, 

Such  a  huge  cloud  of  fmoke  inviron'd  vs, 
We  could  not  well  difcouer. 

Queen.     There's  for  thy  fpeed ; 
And  England  ne'er  want  fuch  a  Drake  at  neede. 

Enter  the  Second  Pqft. 

Th'  art  welcome  :  what  canft  thou  relate, 
Touching  this  naval  confli6l  1 

2.  Pofl.     Since  Drakes  firft  onfet,  and  our  fleete 

retir'd, 

The  Spanifh  nauy,  being  linckt  and  chain'd 
Like  a  half  moon,  or  to  a  full  bent  bow, 
Attend  aduantage  ;  where,  amongft  the  reft, 
Sir  Martin  Furbifher,  blinded  with  fmoake, 
By  chance  is  fallen  into  the  midft  of  them, 
Still  fighting  'gainft  extremity  of  odds, 
Where  he,  with  all  his  gallant  followers, 
Are  folded  in  deaths  arms. 

Queen.     If  he  furuiue,  he  mall  be  nobly  ranfom'd  : 
If  he  be  dead, 
Yet  he  fhall  Hue  in  immortality. 


you  know  no  body.  341 

How  fares  our  Admiral  ? 

2.  Pojl.     Brauely  he  directs, 

And  with  much  judgment.     England  neuer  bred 
Men  that  a  fea-fight  better  managed. 

Queen.     It  cheers  my  blood  ;  and  if  fo  Heaven  be 

pleas'd, 

For  lome  neglected  duty  in  ourfelf, 
To  punifh  vs  with  loffe  of  thefe  braue  fpirits, 
His  will  be  done ;  yet  will  we  pray  for  them. 
What  fays  valiant  Lefter  1 

Thou  wilt  not  leaue  vs,  wilt  thou  ?  lookfl  thou  pale  ? 
What  fays  old  Hunfdon  1  nay,  He  fpeake  thy  part : 
Thy  hand,  old  lord,  I'm  fure  I  haue  thy  heart. 

Huns.     Both  hand  and  heart. 

Enter  the  Third  Pojl. 

Queen.     Before  thou  fpeak'ft,  take  that :    if  he  be 

dead, 
Our  felfe  will  fee  his  funerall  honoured. 

3.  Pojl.     I  then   proceed   thus  \    when   the   great 
gallianes 

And  galliaffes  had  inviron'd  them, 
The  vndaunted  Furbiflter^  though  round  befet, 
Cheer'd  vp  his  foldiers,  and  well  mann'd  his  fights, 
And  {landing  barehead  brauely  on  the  decke, 
WThen  murdering  mot,  as  thick  as  April's  hail, 
Swoong  by  his  ears,  he  waued  his  warlike  fword, 
Firing  at  once  his  tyres  on  either  fide 
With  fuch  a  fury  that  he  brake  their  chaines, 
Shatter'd  their  decks,  and  made  their  flouteft  fliips 
Like  drunkards  reel,  and  tumble  fide  to  fide. 
Thus  in  war's  fpight  and  all  the  Spaniards  feoff, 
He  brought  both  ihip  and  fouldiers  brauely  off. 

Queen.     War's  fpight,  indeed ;  and  we,  to  do  him 

right, 

Will  call  the  fliip  he  fought  in  The  War  res- fpight. 
Now,  countrymen,  mall  our  fpirits  here  on  land 
Come  fhort  of  theirs  fo  much  admir'd  at  fea  ? 


342  If  you  know  not  me, 

If  there  be  any  here  that  harbour  feare, 

We  giue  them  liberty  to  leaue  the  campe, 

And  thank  them  for  their  abfence. 

A  march,  lead  on  !  we'le  meet  the  worft  can  fall : 

A  march  within. 
A  maiden  Queene  is  now  your  generall. 

As  they  march  about  the  fiage,  Sir  Francis  Drake  and 
Sir  Martin  Furbilher  meet  them  with  Spanijh 
enfigns  in  their  hands,  and  drum  and  colours 
before  them. 

Queen.     What  meanes  thofe  Spanifh  enfignes  in  the 

hands 
Of  Englifh  fubie<5ls  ? 

Drake.     Gracious  Queene, 
.They  mow  that  Spaniards'  Hues  are  in  the  hands 
Of  England's  foueraign. 

Queen.     England s  God  be  praifed  ! 
But,  prethee,  Drake  (for  well  I  know  thy  name, 
Nor  will  I  be  vnmindful  of  thy  worth) 
Briefly  rehearfe  the  danger  of  the  battle  ; 
Till  Furbifher  was  refcued  we  haue  heard. 

Drake.     We  then  retir'd  ;  and  after  counfell  call'd, 
We  ftuft  eight  empty  hoys  with  pitch  and  oil, 
And  all  the  ingredients  apteft  to  take  fire, 
And  fent  them  where  their  proud  Armado  lay. 
The  Spaniard,  now  at  anchor,  thought  we  had  come 
For  parley,  and  fo  rode  fecure  ;  but  when 
They  beheld  them  flame  like  to  fo  many  bright  bon 
fires, 

Making  their  fleete  an  Etna  like  themfelues, 
They  cut  their  cables,  let  their  anchors  fink, 
Burying  at  once  more  wealth  within  the  fea, 
Then  th'  Indies  can  in  many  years  reftore. 
Now  their  high  built  and  large  capacious  bottomes 
Being  by  this  means  vnaccommodated, 
Like  to  fo  many  rough,  vnbridled  fteeds, 
Command  themfelues,  or  rather  are  commanded, 


you  know  no  body.  343 

And  hurried  where  th'  inconftant  windes  fhall  pleafe. 

Some  fell  on  quickfands,  others  brake  on  fhelues : 

Medina^  their  great  Grand  and  General, 

We  left  vnto  the  mercy  of  the  fea ; 

Don  Pedro,  their  high  admirall,  we  tooke, 

With  many  knights  and  noblemen  of  Spaine, 

Who  are  by  this  time  landed  at  St.  Margrets, 

From  whence  your  admirall  brings  them  vp  by  land, 

And  at  St.  James's  means  to  greet  your  grace. 

Queen.     Next  vnder  Heauen  your  valours  haue  the 
praife  ! 

But  prethee,  Drake, 

Giue  vs  a  brief  relation  of  thofe  mips, 

That  in  this  expedition  were  employ'd 

Againft  the  Spanilh  forces  ? 

Drake.     The  Elizabeth  Jonas,  Triumph,  the  White 
Beare, 

The  Mer  Honora,  and  the  Victory ; 

Arch  Raleigh,  Du  Repulfe,  Garland,  Warres-fpight, 

The  Mary  Rofe,  the  Bonaventure,  Hope, 
The  Lion,  Rainbow,  Vantguard,  Nonpareil, 
Dreadnought,  Defiance,  Swiftfure,  Antilach, 
The  Whale,  the  Scout,  Achates,  the  Reuenge. 

Queen.     Drake,  no  more. — 
Where'er  this  nauy  mail  hereafter  faile, 
O  may  it  with  no  lefs  fucceffe  preuail : 
Difmiffe  our  campe,  and  tread  a  royal  march 
Toward  St.  James's,  where  in  martial  order 
We'le  meete  and  parley  our  Lord  Admiral. 
As  for  thofe  enfigns,  let  them  be  fafely  kept, 
And  giue  commandment  to  the  Deane  of  Paul's 
He  not  forget,  in  his  next  learned  fermon, 
To  celebrate  this  conqueft  at  Paul's  crofs ; 
And  to  the  audience  in  our  name  declare 
Our  thanks  to  Heauen,  in  vniuerfal  prayer. 
For  though  our  enemies  be  ouerthrown, 
*Tis  by  the  hand  of  Heauen,  and  not  our  own. 
One  found  a  call. — Now  louing  countrymen,        Call. 
And  fellow  foldiers,  merited  thanks  to  all. 


344  If  you  know  not  me, 

We  here  difmifle  you,  and  diffolue  our  campe. 

Omnes.      Long    Hue,    long    raign    our    Queene 
Elizabeth  \ 

Queen.     Thankes,  general  thanks  : 
Towards  London  march  wee  to  a  peaceful  throne  : 
We  wifh  no  warres,  yet  we  muft  guard  our  owne. 

Exeunt  omnes. 


FINIS. 


345 


APPENDIX. 


[The  following  is  the  conclufion  of  the  Second  part 
of  "  If  You  know  not  Me,  You  know  Nobody,"  as  it 
ftands  in  the  editions  of  1606,  1609,  and  1623.] 

A  peale  of  Chambers. 

Enter  Queen,  Hunfdon,  Lecefter,  Drum,  Colours, 
and  Souldiers. 

Queen.     A  ftand,  there,  lords  !    Whence  comes  this 
found  of  {hot? 

Lei.     Pleafe  it  your  maiefty,  tis  thought  the  Fleete 
Lately  difcouered  by  your  fubiecfl  Fleming, 
Riding  along  the  coafls  of  France  and  Dunkerk, 
Is  met  and  fought  with  by  your  Admirall. 

Queen.     Heauen  profper  his  proceedings  !     Harke, 

my  lords ; 

Still  it  increafeth.     Oh,  had  God  and  nature 
Giuen  vs  proportion  man-like  to  our  mind, 
Wede  not  ftand  here,  fenc't  in  a  wall  of  arms, 
But  haue  been  prefent  in  thefe  fea  alarms. 

Hunf.  Your  royal  refolution  hath  created 
New  fpirits  in  our  fouldiers  brefts,  and  made 
Of  one  man  three. 


346  If  you  know  not  mey 

Enter  a  Poft. 

Queen.     Make  way,  there  ! — What's  the  newes  ? 
Pojl.     Your  royal  fleet  bids  battell  to  the   Spa 
niards, 

Whofe  number  with  the  aduantage  of  the  winde, 
Giues  them  great  odds  ;  but  the  vndaunted  worth 
And  well  knowne  valour  of  your  Admirall, 
Sir  Francis  Drake,  and  Martin  Furbijher, 
Giues  vs  affured  hope  of  victory. 

Queen.     Where  did  the  royal  nauies  firft  encoun 
ter  ? 
Pq/i.      From  Douer  cliffs  we  might  difcerne  them 

joine, 

But  fuch  a  cloud  of  fmoake  enuirond  them, 
We  could  difcouer  nought  of  their  proceedings ; 
For  the  great  Spanijh  fleet  had  winde  and  tide. 
God  and  good  hearts  Hand  on  your  Graces  fide. 
Queen.     There's  for  thy  newes. — He  that  firft  lent 

me  breath, 
Stand  in  the  right  of  wrong'd  Elizabeth 

Omnes.     God  and  his  angels,  for  Elizabeth. 

Enter  another  Pott. 

Queen.      Welcome,    a    God's   name !    What's  the 

newes,  my  friend  ? 

Alas,  good  man,  his  looks  fpeake  for  his  tongue. 
How  ftands  the  fea-fight  ? 

Pojl.     Moft  contrarious. 
The  Spanijh  fleet,  call  in  a  warlike  ranke, 
Like  a  half  moon,  or  to  a  full  bent  bow, 
Wait  for  aduantage  :  when,  amongft  the  reft, 
Sir  Martin  Furbi/her,  blinded  with  fmoake, 
And  fir'd  in  heart  with  emulating  honour, 
Gaue  the  proud  Spaniard  a  broadfide  of  mot : 
But  being  within  the  compaffe  of  their  danger, 
The  diftant  corners  of  their  gripled  fleet 
Circled  him  round.     This  valiant  Furbijher, 


you  know  no  body.  347 

With  all  his  braue  and  gallant  followers, 
Are  folded  in  deaths  armes. 

Queen.     If  he  furuiue, 
He  fhall  be  nobly  ranfom'd  :  if  he  die, 
He  Hues  an  honour  to  his  nation. 
How  fares  our  Admiral  ? 

Pqfl.     Brauely  he  fights  : 
Directs  with  judgement  and  with  heedfull  care 
Offends  the  foe.     England  nere  bred 
Men  that  a  fea  fight  better  managed. 

Queen.     It  cheers  my  blood :  and  if  my  God  be 

pleafed, 

For  fome  neglec~led  duty  in  ourfelfe, 
To  punim  vs  with  lofle  of  them  at  fea, 
His  will  be  done  :  yet  will  we  pray  for  them. 
If  they  returne,  ourfelfe  will  be  the  firfl 
Will  bid  them  welcome. — What  fays  valiant  Lecejler  ? 
Thou  wilt  not  leaue  me,  wilt  thou  ?     Doft  thou  looke 

pale? 
What    fays    old    Hunfdon  1 — Nay  ;    He    fpeak    thy 

part. 

Thy  hand,  old  Lord ;  I  am  fure  I  haue  thy  heart. 
Hunf.     Both  hand  and  heart. 

A  noife  within^  crying  A  Furbifher. 

Enter  a  Captain. 

Queen.     Then  let  both  heart  and  hand 
Be  brauely  vfed,  in  honour  of  our  land. 
Before  thou  fpeakft,  take  that :  if  he  dead, 
A  Queen  will  fee  his  funeral  honoured. 

Cap.     When  the  foes  mips 
Had  grafpt  his  mips  within  a  fteely  girdle, 
The  valiant  Captain,  ouercharg'd  with  her, 
Hauing  no  roome  for  cowardize  or  fear, 
Gaue  all  his  Ordinance  a  gallant  charge, 
Cheer'd  vp  his  fouldiers,  man'd  vp  his  fights, 
And  {landing  barehead  brauely  on  the  decke, 
When  dangerous  mot,  as  thick  as  April  haile, 
. 


348  If  you  know  not  me, 

Dropt  by  his  eares,  he  wau'd  his  warlike  fword, 
And,  with  a  bold  defiance  to  the  foe, 
The  watchword  given,  his  ordnance  let  fly 
With  fuch  a  fury,  that  it  broke  their  rankes, 
Shatterd  their  fides,  and  made  their  warlike  (hips 
Like  drunkards  reele,  and  tumble  fide  to  fide  : 
But  to  conclude,  fuch  was  the  will  of  heauen, 
And  the  true  fpirit  of  that  gentleman, 
That,  being  thought  hopeleffe  to  be  preferued, 
Yet,  in  wars  fpight,  and  all  the  Spaniards  feoff, 
He  brought  his  fhip  and  fouldiers  brauely  off. 

Queen.     Wars  fpight,  indeed  !  and  we,  to  do  him 

right, 

The  fhip  he  faild  in,  fought  in,  call  Wars  fpight. — 
Now,  noble  fouldiers,  rouze  your  hearts,  like  men 
To  noble  refolution  :  if  any  here 
There  be  that  loues  vs  not,  or  harbour  feare, 
We  giue  him  liberty  to  leaue  our  campe 
Without  difpleafure. 

Our  armies  royall,  fo  be  equal  our  hearts  ; 
For  with  the  meanefl  here  He  fpend  my  blood, 
And  fo  to  lofe  it  count  my  onely  good. — 
A  march,  lead  on,  weele  meet  the  word  can  fall : 
A  maiden-Queen  will  be  your  General. 

They  march  one  way  out.  At  the  other  doore,  enter  Sir 
Francis  Drake,  with  colours  and  enftgnes  taken 
from  the  Spaniards. 

What  mean  thefe  Spanijh  enfignes  in  the  hands 
Of  Englijh  fubiefts  ? 

Drake.     Honorable  Queen, 
They  mew  that  Spaniards  Hues  are  in  the  hands 
Of  England*  foueraign. 

Queen.     Englands  God  be  praifd  ! 
But  prethee  Drake,  for  well  I  know  thy  name, 
And  He  not  be  unmindful  of  thy  worth, 
Briefly  rehearfe  the  danger  of  the  battell, 
Till  Furbi/her  was  refcued  we  haue  heard. 


you  know  no  body.  349 

Drake.     The   danger  after  that  was    worfe    than 

then. 

Valour  on  both  fides  ftroue  to  rife  with  honor, 
As  is  a  pair  of  balance,  once  made  euen, 
So  flood  the  day,  inclind  to  neyther  fide. 
Sometimes  we  yeelded  ;  but  like  a  ramme 
That  makes  returnment  to  redouble  ftrength, 
Then  forc'd  them  yeeld ;  when  our  Lord  Admirall 
Following  the  chafe,  Pedro  their  Admiral, 
With  many  knights  and  captaines  of  acconnt, 
Were  by  his  noble  deeds  tane  prifoners, 
And  vnder  his  conduct  are  fafely  kept, 
And  are  by  this  time  landed  at  S.  Margrets : 
From  whence  they  meane  to  march  along  by  land, 
And  at  S.  James  heele  greete  your  Maiefty. 
Thefe  Spani/h  enfigns,  tokens  of  our  conqueft, 
Our  captaines  tooke  from  off  their  batter'd  fhips : 
Such  as  flood  out,  we  funke  ;  fuch  as  fubmitted, 
Tafled  our  Englijh  mercy,  and  furuive, 
Vaffals  and  prifoners  to  your  foueraigntie. 

Queen.      Next  vnder  God    your  valors   haue   the 

praife  : 

Difmifs  our  campe,  and  tread  a  royall  march 
Towards  S.  James,  where,  in  martiall  order, 
Weele  meet  and  parley  our  Lord  Admiral, 
And  fet  a  ranfome  of  his  prifoners. 
As  for  thofe  enfignes,  fee  them  fafely  kept ; 
And  giue  commandment  to  the  Deane  of  Powles 
He  not  forget,  in  his  next  learned  fermon, 
To  celebrate  this  conquefl  at  Powles  Croffe ; 
And  to  the  audience  in  our  name  declare 
Our  thankes  to  heauen  in  vniuerfal  prayer  : 
For  though  our  enemies  be  ouerthrown, 
Tis  by  the  hand  of  heauen,  and  not  our  own. 
On  !  found  a  call ! — Now  louing  countrymen, 
Subiedls,  and  fellow  fouldiers,  that  haue  left 
Your  weeping  wiues,  your  goods,  and  children, 
And  laid  your  Hues  vpon  the  edge  of  death, 
For  good  of  England  and  Elizabeth, 


350  If  you  know  not  me, 

We    thanke    you    all.      Thofe    that    for    vs    would 

bleed, 

Shall  finde  vs  kinde  to  them,  and  to  their  feed. 
We  here  difmiffe  you,  and  difmifle  our  campe. 
Againe  we  thanke  you  :  pleafeth  God  we  Hue, 
A  greater  recompence  then  thanks  weele  giue. 

All.     Our  Hues  and  liuings  for  Elizabeth. 

Queen.     Thankes  j  general  thankes.— 
Towards  London  march  we  to  a  peacefull  throne  : 
We  wilh  no  wars,  yet  we  muft  guard  our  owne. 

Exeunt. 


FINIS. 


Epilogue. 


The  Princeffe  young  Elizabeth  y'hatfe  feene 

In  her  minority,  and  fmce  a  Queene, 

A  Subject,  and  a  Soveraigne  :  in  th'  one 

A  pittied  Lady  :  in  the  royall  Throne 

A  potent  Queene.     It  now  in  you  doth  reft 

To  know,  in  which  fhe  hath  demeand  her  beft. 


NOTES   AND   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE  i. 
The  Flrjl  and  Second  parts  of  King  Edward  the  FourtJi, 

Reprinted  for  the  Shakefpeare  Society  in  1842,  "from  the 
unique  black  letter  firft  Edition  of  1600,  collated  with  one  other 
in  black  letter,  and  with  thofe  of  1619  and  1626,  with  an  Intro 
duction  and  Notes  by  Barren  Field."  Thefe  notes  we  have  laid 
extenfively  under  contribution  in  the  enfuing  pages. 


In  the  black  letter  edition  of  1605,  the  word  "God"  is 
frequently  changed  into  "  Cock"  in  evafion  of  the  ftatute  of 
3  Jac.  I,  then  newly  paffed.  It  is  almoft  needle! s  to  fay  that 
the  original  word  has  been  invariably  reftored  in  the  prefent 
reprint. 

PAGE  6. 

A  Jit  of  mirth. 

As  oppofed  to  a  continuance.  The  phrafe  occurs  in  Putten- 
ham's  Art  of  Engli/h  Poefit,  1589,  where  the  author  fpeaks  of 
"blind  harpers,  or  fuch  like  tavern-minftrels,  that  give  a  fit  of 
mirth  for  a  groat."  Thy  wordyfr  refers  to  the  portions  or  paufes 
in  a  ballad  or  romance. 

PAGE  7. 

Falconbridge. 

"The  perfon  here  meant  was  Thomas  Nevil,  baftard  fon  to 
Lord  Falconbridge  ;  '  a  man  (fays  Hall)  of  no  lefs  courage  then 
1  AA 


354 

audacity,  that  a  more  meter  could  not  be  chofen  to  fet  all  the 
worlde  in  a  broyle,  and  to  put  the  eftate  of  the  realme  on  an  yl 
hazard.'  He  once  brought  his  mips  up  the  Thames,  and  with  a 
confiderable  body  of  the  men  of  Kent  and  Effex,  made  a  fpirited 
affault  on  the  City,  with  a  view  to  plunder  and  pillage,  which 
was  not  repelled  but  after  a  fharp  conflict  and  the  lofs  of  many 
lives ;  and  had  it  happened  at  a  more  critical  period,  might  have 
been  attended  with  fatal  confequences  to  Edward.  After  roving 
on  the  fea  fome  little  time  longer,  he  ventured  to  land  at 
Southampton,  where  he  was  taken  and  beheaded." — Ritfon. 
It  appears  from  both  the  Camden  Society's  publications,  hereafter 
quoted,  that  he  was  taken  at  Sandwich. 

PAGE  10. 

At  Leadenkall,  we1  II  fell  pearles  by  the  pecke. 
Leadenhall  was  a  public  granary. 

PAGE  u. 

Birchin  lanefaall  fuite  vs. 

i.e.  mail  furnifh  us  with  fuits  of  clothes.  Birchin  Lane  was 
the  Monmouth  Street  of  the  city.  It'  was  not  inhabited  by  the 
mercers  and  woollen-drapers,  as  ftated  by  Mr.  Rimbault  in  his 
notes  to  Pollie's  Anatomie,  but  by  "  the  fripperers  or  upholders, 
that  fold  old  apparel  and  houfehold  fluff."  The  mercers,  as 
appears  both  from  Stow  and  from  this  play,  lived  in  Cheapfide. 
See  The  Roy  all  King  and  the  Loy all  Subject,  vol.  vi.,  p.  13. 

PAGE  15. 

Clapperdudgin. 

A  cant  term  for  a  beggar,  ingenioufly  derived  by  Mr.  Collier 
from  knocking  the  clapdifh  (which  beggars  carried)  with  a  knife 
or  dudgeon. 

PAGE  19. 

And  cutting  of  throats  be  cried  havock. 

See  Coriolanus,  var.  ed.,  acl;  iii.  fcene  I.  Crying  havock\>y  the 
conqueror  was  the  converfe  of  crying  quarter  by  the  conquered. 

Ib. 

Sallet. 

A  helmet.  See  the  commentators  on  2  Henry  FI.,  adl  iv. 
fcene  10. 


355 

PAGE  ig. 

A  true  finger. 
i.e.  the  finger  of  a  true,  or  honeft  man. 

PAGE  21. 

The  Moiith  of  Bi/hopfgate. 
Some  inn  at  the  gate,  where  liquors  were  fold. 

Ib. 

Mazer. 
Mazard,  the  face. 

Ib. 

As  tall  a  man. 
i.e.  as  brave  a  man. 

PAGE  33. 

Arife  Sir  John  Crofebie,  Lord  Maior  of  London  and  Knight. 
Arife  Sir  Ralfe  Joffeline  Knight. 

It  appears  from  Stow  that  Sir  John  Crosby  was  Sheriff,  not 
mayor,  in  this  year,  and  that  Sir  Ralph  Joceline  was  mayor,  and 
knighted,  in  1464.  Crosby  never  was  mayor.  The  following  is 
Stow's  annal  of  the  year  1470  :  — 

"1470.  The  loth.  [Edw.  IV.  J  Sir  John  Crosbie,  John  Ward, 
[Sheriffs] ;  mayor,  Sir  John  Stockton,  mercer. 

"Thomas  the  baftard  Fauconbridge,  with  a  riotous  company, 
fet  upon  this  city  at  Aldgate,  Bifhopfgate,  the  Bridge,  &c.,  and 
twelve  aldermen,  with  the  recorder,  were  knighted  in  the  field 
by  Edward  IV.,  to  wit,  John  Stockton,  mayor,  Raph  Verney, 
late  mayor,  John  Yong,  late  mayor,  William  Tayler,  late  mayor, 
Richard  Lee,  late  mayor,  Matthew  Phillips,  late  mayor,  George 
Ireland,  William  Stoker,  William  Hampton,  fince  mayor,  Thomas 
Stolbroke,  John  Crosbie,  and  Bartlemew  James,  fince  mayor,  With 
Thomas  Urfwike,  recorder." — Stow's  Survey  of  London  by  Thorns, 
p.  193.  See  alfu  Mr.  Bruce's  Notes  to  the  Camden  Society's 
Hiftorie  of  the  Arrival  of  Edward  IV.,  and  the  fame  Society's 
Warkworth's  Chronicle,  p.  21. 

PAGE  37. 

Miller  thy  duty  is  a  thoufand  markes. 
i.e.  that  which  is  due  to  thee. 

AA    2 


356 

PAGE  38. 

Farewell  pink  and  pinnace,  flibote  and  caruel,    Turnbull  and 

Spittal. 

The  four  names  of  craft  are  ufed  for  the  ladies  of  Spicing's 
acquaintance.  For  turnbull,  fee  Collier's  Shakefpeare,  vol.  iv< 
p.  407.  A  fpittal  is  an  hofpital,  or  peft  houfe. 

PAGE  39. 

Dicker. 
A  dicker  of  leather  is  ten  hides. 

PAGE  40. 

Saweft  thou  not  the  deere  imboft. 

"  When  a  deer  is  hard  run,  and  foams  at  the  mouth,  he  is  faid 
to  be  imboft" —  Warton  on  Taming  of  the  Shrew,,  act  i.  fcene  I. 

Ib. 

that  makes  ye  prate  to  me  fo  fondly. 

Hobs  does  not  underftand  "deer  imboft,"  and  takes  it  for 
foolifh  love-talk. 

Ib. 

meg-holly. 
Probably  a  contraction  or  corruption  for  the  Virgin  Mary. 

PAGE  41. 
by  the  moufe-foot. 

"  I  know  a  man  that  will  never  fwear  but  by  cock  and pye,  or 
moufe-foot.  I  hope  you  will  not  fay  thefe  be  oaths." — The 
Plaine  Mans  Pathway  to  Heaven.  By  Arthur  Dent.  1601. 

Ib. 

thefe  courtnols. 

This  word  occurs  in  the  old  ballad  of  the  King  and  the  Miller 
of  Mansfield,  and  is  a  contemptuous  word  for  courtiei' — court- 
noodle.  So  grout-noil  means  groffe-tede.  See  Sherwood. 

PAGE  42. 
His  Maiejly? 
Although  Mr.  Douce  has  mown  that  the  word  majejly  was  oc- 


357 

cafionally  applied  to  kings,  long  before  the  reign  of  James  I. ,  a 
few  years  previous  to  which  this  play  was  written,  yet  War- 
burton  is  probably  right  in  faying  that  this  king  was  the  firft  in 
England  that  affumed  the  words  f acred  majefty  as  a  fettled  ftyle, 
to  the  exclufion  of  highnefs  and  grace,  which  were  previoufly  em 
ployed,  at  the  option  of  the  fpeaker.  Thus,  indifcriminately, 
Shakefpeare  ufes  all  thefe  words,  making  his  hiftorical  charac 
ters  fpeak  the  language  of  his,  and  not  of  their  own,  time  ;  and  it 
is  therefore  perfectly  natural  that  the  Tanner  of  Heywood's  days 
fhould  not  know  what  "his  majefty"  means,  and,  like  Falftaff, 
fhould  quibble  at  the  word  grace. 

PAGE  42. 

Do/I  thou  not  know  me  ?     Then  thou  knowejl  nobody. 
The   fame  words  are  fpoken  by   Hobfon   to  the   Queen  in 
Heywood's  Elizabeth,  to  which  they  form  the  fecond  title.      Vide 
Supra,  p.  317. 

PAGE  43. 
Gods  blue  budkin. 

This  may  be  called  the  oathkin  of  Odsbodikins,  or  by  God's  body. 
The  epithet  blue  is  analogous  to  the  French  venire  bleu,  or  mor- 
bleu. 

PAGE  44. 

my  mare  knowes  ha  and  ree. 

Ar  and  re  are  the  words  one  hears  from  the  mule-drivers  all 
day  long  in  Spain,  where  the  verb  to  drive  is  arrear. 

PAGE  45. 
Nay  thats  counfel. 
i.e.,  that's  a  fecret. 

to. 

Yorke,  Yorke,  for  my  many. 
See  this  old  fong  in  Ritfon's  Northern  Garlands. 

PAGE  47. 
kifs  the  poft. 
This  was  a  by-word  for  being  fhut  out.     See  Haughton  and 


358 

Chettle's  Patient   Griffil,    Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  adl  iii. 
fcene  3.     A    Woman  KilTd  with  Kindnefs,  Heywood,  vol.  ii. 

PAGE  51. 

condition  /lie  had  all, 

It  was  not  uncommon,  in  familiar  language,  to  omit  the  word 
upon.  See  Gifford's  Matfi'nger,  vol.  iv.  p.  488. 

PAGE  52. 

gramercies. 
Grande  merci,  French,  many  thanks. 

PAGE  64. 

If  any  gallant  ftritie  to  have  the  wall. 

In  Heywood's  days,  and  long  afterwards,  a  contefl  for  the 
wall-fide,  in  walking  the  ftreets,  was  an  uncivil  characterise  of 
the  metropolis. 

PAGE  65. 

He  were  too  fond,  &c. 
i.e.,  foolifh. 

PAGE  69. 

Our  kind  beneuolence 

"This  tax  (called  benevolence)  was  devifed  by  Edward  the 
Fourth,  for  which  he  fuftained  much  enuie." — Bacon's  Hiftoi'ie  of 
the  Raigne  of  King  Henry  the  Seventh. 

PAGE  71. 

Heres  old  polling,  fubfidy,  fifteen  foldiers  and  to  the  poor  ! 
Old  is  equivalent  to  what  we    fliould  now    call  everlajling, 
Polling  was  a  poll-tax  ;  a  fubfidy  was  the  fifth  part  of  a  man's 
land  and  goods,  according  to  a  low  valuation  ;  and  for  fifteens, 
fee  Collier's  SJiakefpeare,  vol.  v.  p.  197. 

Ib. 

By  my  halidome. 

"  This  Mr.  Ritfon  explains,  by  my  holy  doom,  or  fentence  at 
the  refurre&ion,  from  the  Saxon  haligdom  ;  but  the  word  does 
not  appear  to  have  had  fuch  a  meaning.  It  rather  fignifies  holi- 
nefs,  or  honejly.  It  likewife  denoted  a  facrament,  a  fanduary, 
relics  of  faints,  or  any  thing  holy.  It  feems  in  later  times  to 


359 

have  been  corrupted  into  kolidame,  as  if  it  expreffed  the  holy 
Virgin.  Thus  we  have  So  help  me  God  and hollidame  I  See  Bul- 
lein's  Book  of  the  tife  of  ftckemen,  1579,  fo.  2." — Douce. 

Mr.  Crabb  Robinfonalforejectsdiw;?,  or  judgment,  andconfiders 
dom  as  a  mere  fuffix,  correfponding  with  the  German  thiim,  in 
which  language  heiligthum  is  the  ordinary  word  for  fanftuary,  or 
holy  place  or  thing.  Thum,  in  German,  anfwers  to  our  dom  in 
Chriftendom,  kingdom,  freedom,  wifdom.  By  m'y  halidom,  there 
fore,  means  by  my  goodnefs,  by  my  holinefs  I  The  Englifh  dic 
tionaries  attribute  the  fuffix  dom  to  the  Saxon  word  for  dominion, 
or  doom  ;  but  this  is  doubtful. 

PAGE  72. 

Dybell  here  in  Caperdochy. 

This  is  fome  cant  term  for  a  prifon,  and  is  not  met  with  elfe- 
\vhere. 

A 

Outftep  the  king  be  miferable. 
Unlefs  the  King  be  compaflionate. 

PAGE  80. 

That  Jwneft,  merry  hangman,  how  doth  he  ? 
Hangman  was  a  term   of  endearment,  and  this  explains  the 
following  paffage  in  Mtich  Ado  about  Nothing,  act  iii.  fcene  2. 

"  He  hath  twice  or  thrice  cut  Cupid's  bowftring,  and  the  little 
hangman  dare  not  fhoot." 

So  in  Loves  Labour  Loft,  ac"t  v.  fcene  2. 

"Cupid  a  boy, 
Ay,  and  a  fhrewd  unhappy  gallows  too." 

PAGE  90. 

tan-fat, 
Tan-vat,  or  tan-pit. 

PAGE  92. 

Nufe. 
Neufs? 

PAGE  106. 

crownes  of  thefunne. 

Mr.  Douce  fays  thefe  were  gold,  originally  coined  by  Louis 
XI ,  and  that  their  name  was  derived  from  the  mint-mark  of  a 
fun.  They  were  current  in  this  kingdom  by  weight,  as  certain 


Englifh  coins  were  in  France.     See  alfo  Gifford's  Maffinger,  vol. 

i.  P-   131- 
PAGE  107. 

Somewhat,  it  giues  me,  yoii  will  bring  from  thence, 
i.e.,  my  mind  gives  me,  or  mifgives  me. 

PAGE  109. 

a  couple  of  capons,  too,  euery  year  beftde. 
This  is  a  common  refervation  in  old  leafes,  befides  the  rent. 

PAGE  in. 

Played  John. 

Contemporary  plays  are  full  of  playing  Jack  and  playing  the 
flouting  Jack.  The  allufion  here  is  to  the  fong  fo  named  :  "  Shee 
euerie  day  fmgs  John  for  the  King." — Sharpman's  Fleire,  fig.  F. 
ed.  1610. 

PAGE  117. 

Hypocrite. 

The  black  letter  edition  of  1613,  and  the  roman  of  1626,  read 
heretic.  The  other  various  readings  are  fo  numerous  and  fo 
trivial,  that  we  have  not  noted  them. 

PAGE  162. 

Spuria  vitulamina,  &c. 

This  text  is  from  the  Vulgate  verfion  of  the  Wifdom  of  Solo 
mon,  iii.  4. 

PAGE  186. 

Shore's  Ditch. 

The  old  ballad  (AJane  Shore  has  the  fame  idea  ;  but  the  place 
was  fo  called  hundreds  of  years  before.  See  Stow's  Survey  of 
London,  Thorns'  ed.,  p.  158,  and  Fuller's  Worthies,  Middlefex. 
A  ditch,  or  fewer,  is  vulgarly  called  &fhore.  Heywood  has  taken 
his  facts  from  the  old  ballad,  and  not  from  hiftory.  Jane  Shore 
was  living  thirty  years  after  the  death  of  Edward  IV.,  when  Sir 
Thomas  More  wrote  his  Hiftory  of  Richard  III.  It-  appears, 
from  a  letter  of  King  Richard's  in  the  Harleian  MSS.  (Percy's 
Reliques,  ii.  405),  that,  while  fhe  was  imprifoned,  the  folicitor- 
general  wifhed  to  marry  her,  and  that  the  king  would  have 
releafed  her  for  that  purpofe,  if  the  learned  gentleman  could  not 
be  diffuaded  from  the  match.  Shore  is  in  that  letter  called 
William ;  but  Heywood  has  ftrictly  followed  the  names  and 
tragedy  of  the  old  ballad. 


PAGE  189. 

If  you  know  not  me>  you  know  no  bodie. 

The  two  hiftorical  Plays  on  the  Lite  and  Reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by  Mr.  J.  Payne 
Collier,  were  printed  for  the  Shakefpeare  Society  in  1851. 

PAGE  191. 

A  Prologue  to  the  Play  of  Queene  Elizabeth. 
From  Hey  wood's  Pleafant  Dialogues  and  Dramma's,  1637, 
p.  248. 

PAGE  196. 

And  made  firft  head  with  you  at  Fromagham. 

Queen  Mary  fought  fhelter  in  Framlingham  Caflle,  while  the 
Duke  of  Northumberland  was  endeavouring  to  enforce  the  claim 
of  Lady  Jane  Grey.  "  When  the  Lady  Mary  received  the  news 
of  her  brother's  death,  having  long  before  been  acquainted  with 
the  Duke  of  Northumberland's  fecret  practices,  me  judged  it  un- 
fafe  to  remain  near  London,  where  her  enemies  were  in  full 
power  ;  and,  therefore,  pretending  a  fear  of  the  plague,  by  reafon 
of  the  fudden  death  of  one  of  her  domeftics,  me  withdrew  from 
St.  Edmund's  Bury,  (her  abode  at  that  time)  and  in  one  day 
came  to  Framlingham  Caflle,  in  the  county  of  Suffolk,  about  four 
fcore  miles  from  London,  and  not  far  from  the  fea  ;  by  which,  if 
the  extremity  of  her  fears  required  it,  fhe  might  have  an  eafy 

paffage  to  France At  the  fame  time,  news  was  brought 

that  the  people  of  Norfolk  and  Suffolk  had  taken  their  oaths  to 
her." — BifJwp  Godwin,  in  Kennett,  ii.,  329.  Stow  fays — "By 
this  time  word  was  brought  to  the  Tower  that  the  Lady  Mary 
was  fled  to  Framlingham  Caftle,  in  Suffolk,  where  the  people  of 
the  country  almoft  wholly  relbrted  to  her." — Annales,  1615, 
p.  1032.  In  the  old  copies  of  this  play,  the  name  of  the  place 
is  printed  "  Fromagham,"  according  to  the  ruftic  and  local 
pronunciation. 

R. 
Wiats  expedition. 

This  allufion  to  the  quelling  of  Wyat  and  his  adherents  is  a 
little  premature  :  he  was  not  fubdued  and  taken  until  February, 
1554  ;  and  thefe  incidents  formed  the  fubject  of  a  play  by  Dekker 
.and  Webfter,  which  was  printed  very  imperfectly  in  1607. 


362 


PAGE  197. 

Young  Courtney,  Earle  of  Devonjhire. 

Edward  Courtenay  had  been  created  Earl  of  Devon,  (not 
Devonfhire)  according  to  Stow  (Annales,  1041),  on  3rd  Sep 
tember,  1553. 

PAGE  198. 

Enter  Matter  Gage,  and  a  Gentlewoman. 
Of  courfe,  the  fcene  here  changes  to  Afhridge,  where  Elizabeth, 
as  we  have  been  already  told,  was  refiding. 

PAGE  199. 

Souldiers  are  as  hot  as  fire. 

"  Are"  feems  furplufage,  but  is  not  neceffarily  fo,  and  the  later 
copies  here  follow  the  reading  of  the  eaiiieft. 

Ib. 
Enter  Tame  and  Shandoyfe,  with  Souldiers,  drum,  &c. 

Tame.     Where's  the  Princeffe  ? 

Gage.     Oh  my  honoured  lords, 
May  I  with  reuerence  prefume  to  aske 
What  meanes  thefe  armes  ?     Why  do  you  thus  begirt 
A  poore  weake  lady,  neare  at  point  of  death  ? 

In  his  England's  Elizabeth,  Heywood  thus  fpeaks  of  this 
fcene  : — "This  which  at  the  firft  was  in  the  Queene  but  meere 
fufpition,  by  Bifhop  Gardiner's  aggravation  grew  after  into  her 
high  indignation,  in  fo  much  that  a  ftricl:  Commiffion  was  fent 
down  to  Afhridge,  where  fhee  then  fojourned,  to  have  her  with 
all  fpeede  removed  from  thence,  and  brought  up  to  London,  there 
to  anfwer  all  fuch  criminal  articles  as  could  be  objected  againft 
Her.  The  charge  was  committed  to  Sir  John  Williams,  Lord  of 
Tame,  Sir  Edward  Haftings,  and  Sir  Thomas  Cornwallis,  all 
three  Councillors  of  State,  and  for  the  better  accomplifhment  of 
the  fervice,  a  guard  of  250  horfemen  were  attendant  on  them. 
The  Princefs  was  at  the  fame  time  dangeroufly  ficke,  and  even 
almoft  to  death  :  the  day  was  quite  fpent,  and  the  evening  come 
on,  newes  being  brought  unto  her  by  her  fervants  (much 
affrighted)  that  fo  great  a  ftrength  had  begirt  her  houfe,  and  in 
fuch  a  time  when  her  innocence  could  not  fo  much  as  dreame  of 
any  thing  dangerous  that  might  be  fuggefted  againft  her,  it  bred 


363 

in  her,  liowfoever,  no  fmall  amazement ;  but  ere  fhee  could  well 
recollect  herfelfe,  a  great  rapping  was  heard  at  the  gate.  Shee 
fending  to  demand  the  caufe  thereof,  inftead  of  returning  an 
anfwer,  the  Lords  ftept  into  the  houfe,  without  demanding  fo 
much  as  leave  of  the  porter,  and  coming  into  the  hull,  where 
they  met  miftrefs  Afliley,  a  gentlewoman  that  attended  her,  they 
willed  her  to  inform  her  Lady  that  they  had  a  meffage  to  deliver 
from  the  Queene.  The  Gentlewoman  went  up  and  told  her 
what  they  had  faid,  who  fent  them  word  back  by  her  againe, 
that  it  being  then  an  unfeaf enable  time  of  the  night,  me  in  her 
bed  and  dangeroufly  ficke,  to  intreate  them,  if  not  in  courtefie,  yet 
for  modefties  fake,  to  defer  the  delivery  of  their  meflage  till 
morning  ;  but  they,  without  further  reply,  as  fhee  was  returning 
to  the  Princeffes  chamber,  followed  her  up  flairs  and  preffed  in 
after  her,  prefenting  themfelves  at  her  bedfide.  At  which  fight 
file  was  fuddenly  moved,  and  told  them  that  fhe  was  not  well 
pleafed  with  their  uncivill  intrufion.  They,  by  her  low  and  faint 
fpeech  perceiving  her  debilitie  and  weaknefs  of  body,  defired  her 
grace's  pardon,  (the  Lord  Tame  fpeaking  in  excufe  of  all  the 
reft)  and  told  her  they  were  forry  to  find  fuch  infirmitie  upon 
her,  efpecially  fince  it  was  the  Queenes  exprefs  pleafure  that  the 
feventh  of  that  prefent  moneth  fhee  muft  appeare  before  her  Ma- 
jeftie,  at  her  Court  neere  Weftminfter.  To  whom  fhe  anfwered 
that  the  Queen  had  not  a  fubjecl:  in  the  whole  kingdom  more  ready 
or  willing  to  tender  their  fervice  and  loyalty  to  her  Highneffe  than 
herfelfe ;  yet  hoped,  withall,  in  regard  of  her  prefent  difability,  they 
who  were  eye-witneffes  of  her  weake  eftate  might  in  their  own 
charity  and  goodnefs  difpenfe  with  their  extremity  of  haft  ;  but 
the  haft  was  fuch  and  the  extremitie  fo  great,  that  their  Com- 
miffion  was  to  bring  her  either  alive  or  dead.  A  fojre  Commiffion 
it  is,  faid  fhee.  Hereupon  they  confulted  with  her  Phyfitians, 
charging  them  on  their  allegiance  to  refolve  them  whether  fhe 
might  be  removed  thence  without  imminent  perill  of  her  life. 
Upon  conference  together  they  returned  anfwer  that  fhe  might 
undergo  that  journey  without  death,  though  not  without  great 
danger,  herjinfirmity  being  hazardfull,  but  not  mortall.  Their 
opinions  thus  delivered,  they  told  her  grace  that  fhe  muft 
of  neceffity  prepare  herfelfe  for  the  morrow's  journey." — 
Page  96,  &c. 

It  will  be  feen,  by  the  above  quotation,   that  Hey  wood  ufes 


364 

fome  of  the  very  fame  expremoris  he  had  employed  in  his  play, 
and  fuch  will  be  found  to  be  the  cafe  hereafter. 

PAGE  200. 

Enter  Elizabeth  in  her  bed. 

Meaning,  no  doubt,  that  the  Princefs,  ill  in  her  bed,  was  thruft 
out  upon  the  ftage,  and  the  fcene  immediately  fuppofed  to  be  a 
bed-room.  So,  in  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindnefs,  we  have 
"  Enter  Mrs.  Frankford  in  her  bed." 

PAGE  201. 

Enter  Queen  Mary,  Philip,  &c. 

The  fcene  is  here  transferred  to  Winchefter,  whither  Mary  had 
gone  to  meet  Philip,  and  where  they  were  married. 

PAGE  202. 

Philip  and  Mary,  by  the  grace  of  God,  &c. 
Stow  gives  their  "ftyle"  as  follows — "Philip  and  Mary,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  King  and  Queen  of  England,  France,  Naples, 
Hierufalem,  and  Ireland,  Defenders  of  the  Faith,  Princes  of 
Spain  and  Sicily,  Archdukes  of  Auftrich,  Dukes  of  Milan,  Bur 
gundy  and  Brebant,  Counties  of  Afpurge,  Flanders,  and  Tyroll." 
— Annales,  1057.  Bifhop  Godwin  adds  that  the  ftyle  was  pro 
claimed  in  Latin,  French,  and  Englifh. 

PAGE  203. 

The  twenty-fifth  day  of  this  month,  Jiily. 
St.  James's  day  :  Heywood  is  very  particular  and  accurate  in 
this  date. 

PAGE  204. 
What  fejlivall,  &c. 

Thefe  two  lines,  in  edit.  1632,  are  made  part  of  the  Queen's 
fpeech. 

Ib. 

And  perfect,  as  you  ever  have  been. 

This  line,  like  many  others,  is  incurably  defective.  Edit.  1605 
reads,  "  And  perfect  as  you  ever  have  delivered  been."  Ed. 
1623  "as  you  have  ever  beene." 


365 

PAGE  205. 

Jn  this  enterprife,  and  you  aske  why. 

"And   ask  you   why" — edit.    1605.      The   defective    metre 
might  be  fet  right  by  inferting  "  my  "  before  enterprife. 

PAGE  205 — 206. 
Enter   Winche/ler,    Suflex,   Howard,    Tame,    Shandoyfe, 

and  Con/table. 

Sujs.     All  forbeare  this  place,  vnlefle  the  Princefs. 
Winch.     Madam. 
We  from  the  Queen  are  join'd  in  full  commiffion. 

They  fet :  Jhe  kneeles. 
Sufs.     By  your  fauour,  good  my  lord, 
Ere  you  proceed. — Madam,  although  this  place 
Doth  tye  you  to  this  reuerence,  it  becomes  not, 
You  being  a  Princefs,  to  deiect  your  knee. 

"Upon  the  Friday  before  Palme  Sunday,  the  Bifh.  of  Win- 
chefter,  with  nine  more  of  the  Council,  convented  her :  being 
come  before  them,  and  offering  to  kneele,  the  Earl  of  Suflex  would 
by  no  means  fuffer  her,  but  commanded  a  chayre  to  bee  brought 
in  for  her  to  fit  on.  Gardiner,  Bifhop  of  Winchefter,  and  then 
Lord  Chancellor,  taking  upon  him  to  be  the  mouth  of  the  reft, 
began  very  Iharply  to  reprove  her  (as  if  me  had  beene  already 
convicted)  for  having  a  hand  in  Wiat's  rebellion  ;  to  whom  me 
mildly  anfwered,  with  a  modeft  proteftation,  that  fhee  had  never 
had  the  leaft  knowledge  of  his  practice  and  proceedings  :  for 
proofe  whereof,  faid  fhee,  *  when  Wyat  at  his  death  was  by  fome 
malicious  enemies  of  mine  demanded  whether  I  was  any  way 
knowing  or  acceffary  to  his  infurrection,  even  at  the  parting  of 
life  and  body,  having  prepared  his  foule  for  heaven,  when  no  dif- 
fimulation  can  be  fo  much  as  fufpected,  even  then  he  pronounced 
me  guiltleffe.  Befides  the  like  queftion  being  demanded  of 
Nicholas  Throckmorton  and  James  Crofts,  at  their  Arraignment, 
I  was  likewife  cleared  by  them :  and  being  acquitted  by  all  others, 
(my  lords)  would  you  have  me  to  accufe  my  felfe  ?'  After  this 
me  was  queftioned  about  a  ftirring  in  the  Weft,  rais'd  by  Sir 
Peter  Carew,  but  anfwered  to  every  particular  fo  diftinctly,  that 
they  could  not  take  hold  of  the  leaft  circumftance,  whereby  they 
might  any  way  ftrengthen  their  accufation  :  which  Gardiner  per- 


366 

ceiving,  told  her  that  it  would  be  her  fafefl  courfe  to  fubmit  her 
felf  to  the  Queene,  and  crave  pardon  of  her  gracious  Majeftie. ' 
Whereunto  me  anfwered  that  fubmifiion  confeft  a  crime,  and 
pardon  belonged  to  a  delinquent,  either  of  which  being  proved  by 
her,  fhe  would  then,  and  not  till  then,  make  ufe  of  his  Grace's 
councell." — England's  Elizabeth,  page  108, 

PAGE  206. 

Madam,  perhaps  you  cenfure  hardly, 
That  was  enforced  in  this  commijjion. 

The  meaning  would  fe.em  to  be,  "  Madam,  perhaps,  you  cen 
fure,  or  think,  hardly  of  us,  that  were  enforced  in  this  commif- 
fion  :"  it  only  wants  a  flight  alteration,  to  complete  the  verfe  and 
the  fenfe  :  thus — 

"  Madam,  perhaps,  of  us  you  cenfure  hardly, 
That  were  enforc'd  in  this  commiffion." 

PAGE  207. 
The  fame  day 

Frogmorton  was  arraigned  in  the  GuildhalL 
Stowe  fays,  "  The  i;th  of  April,  were  led  to  the  Guildhall  in 
London,  to  be  arraign'd,  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton  and  Sir 
James  Croft,  Robert  Winter  and  Cuthbert  Vaughan  being  alfo 
had  thither  to  witnefs  againft  them  ;  where  that  day  no  more  was 
arraigned  but  Sir  Nicholas  Throckmorton,  who  tarrying  from 
feven  o'clock  in  the  morning  until  almoft  five  at  night,  was  by 
the  verdict  of  the  jury  acquit :  he  pleaded  not  guilty,  and  that  he 
was  confenting  to  nothing,  &c.  But  the  jury  which  quit  him 
was  commanded  to  appear  before  the  Council  at  an  hour's 
warning,  and  the  lofs  of  ^"500  the  piece." — Annales,  1055.  We 
are  to  underftand,  from  the  text,  that  Wyat,  not  Throckmorton, 
cleared  Elizabeth  before  his  death. 

Ib, 

What  anfwer  you  to  Sir  Peter  Carew,  in  the  Weft. 

"  Within  fix  days  after  [the  trial  of  Robert  Dudley],  there  was 

word  brought  to  the  Court,  how    that  Sir  Peter   Carow,    Sir 

Gawine   Carow,  Sir   Thomas    Deny,   with    divers   other,   were 

up  in  Devonfhire,  in  the  refitting  of  the  King  of  Spam's  coming 


367 

hither,   and  that  they  had  taken  the  city  of  Exeter,  and  cattle 
there,  into  their  cuftody." — Stow's  Annales,  p.  1044. 

PAGE  208. 
Enter  the  fix  Councellors. 

"  Winch.     It  is  the  pleafure  of  her  maiefty 
That  you  be  ftraight  committed  to  the  Tower"  &c. 

"  In  the  midft  of  thefe  conceptions,  Gardiner  and  the  reft  en- 
tred  the  chamber,  and  told  her  that  it  was  her  Maiefties  pleafure 
fhee  muft  inftantly  be  conveyed  to  the  Tower  ;  that  her  houfehold 
was  diffolved,  and  all  her  fervants  difcharged,  except  the  Gentle 
man  Umer,  three  Gentlewomen,  and  two  Groomes,  and  that  for 
her  guard  200  northern  white  coates  were  appointed  that  night 
to  watch  about  her  lodging,  and  early  the  next  morning  to  fee 
her  fafely  delivered  into  the  cuftody  of  the  Lieftenant  of  the 
Tower.  The  very  name  of  Tower  ftruck  deepe  horror  into  her, 
infomuch  that  the  cheerful  blood  forfaking  her  frefh  cheeks  left 
nothing  but  afhy  paleneffe  in  her  vifage  :  Ihee  fpake  thefe.words 
— '  Alaife  my  Lords,  how  conies  it  that  I  have  fo  incenfed  my 
fitter  and  Soveraigne?  If  it  be  held  to  be  either  criminal  or 
capitall  to  be  daughter  to  King  Henry,  fitter  to  King  Edward, 
of  facred  memory,  or  to  bee  the  next  in  blood  to  the  Queene,  I 
may  then  perhaps  incurre  as  well  the  feverity  of  cenfure  as  the 
rigour  of  fentence  :  but  otherwife  I  here  proteft,  before  Heaven 
and  you,  I  never,  either  in  act  or  thought,  have  as  yet  trefpaffed 
againft  her  Majefty;  whofe  pleafure,  if  it  be  fo  that  I  muft  be 
confined,  and  my  liberty  reftrained,  my  humble  fuite  is  unto  you 
to  be  Petitioners  on  my  behalfe  unto  her  Majetty,  that  I  may  be 
fent  unto  fome  other  place  lefs  notorious,  that  being  a  prifon  for 
Traytors  and  Malefactors  in  the  higheft  degree.'  The  Earl  of  Suf- 
fex  prefently  replied  that  her  requeft  was  both  juft  and  reafonable, 
defiring  the  reft  of  the  Lords  to  joine  with  him  in  her  behalfe  ; 
whereupon  the  Bifhop  of  Winchefter  cut  him  off,  and  told  him 
that  it  was  the  Queenes  abfolute  command,  and  her  pleafure  was 
unalterable." — England 's  Elizabeth,  page  112. 

Elizabeth  was  committed  to  the  Tower,  according  to  Stow,  on 
the  1 8th  of  March,  being  Palm  Sunday.  She  was  conducted 
thither  by  the  Lord  Treafurer  and  the  Earl  of  Suffex,  who  took  her 
by  water  from  Weftminfter. — Annales,  p.  1054. 


368 

PAGE  209. 
With  all  my  heart  ? faith. 

Edit.  1605  has  "  With  all  my  hearty  faith,"  and  later  impref- 
fions,  "  With  all  my  heart,  faith."  It  is  a  trifle,  but  no  doubt  our 
text  is  the  true  reading. 

PAGE  210. 

Nothing  TtnpoJJible. 

Edit.  1605  adds  "to  God,"  but  thofe  words  were  afterwards 
omitted — no  doubt  in  confequence  of  the  ftatute  againft  the  ufe 
of  oaths,  and  of  the  name  of  the  Creator,  on  the  ftage,  3  Jac. 

I.,  C.    21. 

Ib. 

My  mafters,  we  have  talkdfo  long,  that  I  thinke  tis  day. 
This  may  feem  rather  a  large  demand  upon  the  imagination 
of  the  audience,  confidering  that  there  had  been  no  intervening 
fcene,  and  that  the  talke  of  the  "white-coated  foldiers"  had 
commenced  on  the  previous  page,  "  about  eleven"  at  night.  The 
fact  is,  that  at  this  period  of  our  ftage,  fpectators  were  accuf- 
tomed  to  allow  fuch  claims. 

PAGE  212. 
"  Enter  Gage,  Elizabeth,  Clarentia,  her  Gentlewoman. 

"  Gage.     Madam,  you  have  ftepp'd  too  fhort,  into  the  water, 
&c. 

"  She  went  afhore,  and  ftepped  fhort,  into  the  water." — 
England's  Elizabeth,  page  122. 

"She  was  then  delivered  to  the  charge  of  the  Conftable  of 
the  Tower,  who  received  her  as  his  prifoner,  and  told  her  that 
he  would  mow  her  to  her  lodgings  ;  but  fhe,  being  faint,  began 
to  complaine.  The  good  Earle  of  Suffex,  feeing  her  colour  be 
gin  to  faile,  and  fhe  ready  to  fmke  under  his  armes,  called  for  a 
chayre ;  but  the  Conftable  would  not  fuffer  it  to  be  brought. 
Then  fhe  fat  down  upon  a  faire  ftone,  at  which  time  there  fell  a 
great  fliower  of  raine  :  the  heavens  themfelves  did  feeme  to 
weepe  at  fuch  inhumane  ufage.  Suffex  offered  to  caft  his  cloake 
about  her,  but  fhe  by  no  means  would  admit  it.  Then  the  Lief- 
tenent,  M.  Bridges,  intreated  her  to  withdraw  herfelfe  from  the 
violence  of  the  ftorm  into  fome  fhelter,  to  whom  fhe  anfwered, 


369 

*  I  had  better  to  fit  here  then  in  a  worfer  place  ;  for  God  know- 
eth,  not  I,  whither  you  intend  to  lead  me.'  " — England's  Eliza 
beth,  page  123. 

PAGE  214. 
"  Enter  Gage. 
Gage.     My  Lords,  the  Princejfe  humbly  entreats 

That  her  owne fervants  may  beare  up  her  diet,  &c. 
"  She  was  ftill  kept  clofe  prifoner  :  the  Conftable  of  the  Tower, 
then  Lord  Chamberlaine,  would  not  fufifer  her  own  fervants  to 
carry  up  her  dyet,  but  put  it  into  the  hands  of  rude  and  unman 
nerly  foldiers,  of  which  me  complaining  to  her  Gentleman  U  flier 
to  have  that  abufe  better  ordered,  the  Lieftenant  not  only  de- 
nyed  to  fee  it  remedied,  but  threatened  him  with  imprifonment, 
if  he  againe  did  but  urge  fuch  a  motion  :  neither  would  he  fuffer  her 
own  cooks  to  drefs  her  dyet,  but  mingled  his  own  fervants  with 
hers. " — England's  Elizabeth,  page  1 14. 

PAGE  216. 

Gives  them  fas.  petition. 
Gives  them  a  petition,  edit.  1605. 

PAGE  218. 

Thefe  knaves  will  iet  upon  their  priviledge. 
The  word   "jet"  hardly  requires   explanation.      It   is  from 
jetter,  French,  and  fignifies  to  fwagger,  or  throw  onefelf  about, 
affuming  falfe   confequence.     It  is   of    conflant   occurrence   in 
almoft  every  old  author, 

PAGE  220. 

Enter  Winchefter,  Beningfield,  and  Tame. 
Madam,  the  Queene,  out  of  her  royal  bounty, 
Hath  freed  you  front  the  thraldom  of  the  Tower,  &c. 
Stow  tells  us,   "  On  the   iQth  May,  Lady  Elizabeth  was  con 
veyed  from   the  Tower   of  London,   by  water,  to  Richmond  ; 
from   thence  to  Windfor ;  and  fo,  by  the  Lord   Williams,   to 
Ricote,  in  Oxfordfhire ;    and  from  thence  to  Woodftock." — 
Annales,  1056. 

"  From  thence  (the  Tower)  [they]  conveyed  her  to  Woodftock, 
under  the  conduct  and  charge  of  Sr  Henry  Benningfield,  with 
1  BB 


370 

whom  was  joyned  in  Commiffion  Sr  John  Williams,  the  Lord  of 
Tame,  and  a  hundred  Northern  Blew-Coates  to  attend  them. 
Thefe  prefenting  themfelves  before  her,  me  inftantly  appre 
hended^  them  to  be  her  new  guardians  ;  but  at  the  fight  of 
Sr  Henry,  whom  me  had  never  till  that  time  feene,  me  fodainly 
ftarted  backe,  and  called  to  one  of  the  lords,  privately  demand 
ing  of  him,  whether  the  fcaffold  were  yet  Handing  whereon  the 
innocent  Lady  Jane  had  not  long  before  fuffered  ?  He  refolved 
her  that  upon  his  honour  it  was  quite  taken  downe,  and  that  no 
memorial  thereof  was  now  remaining.  Then  fhee  beckoned  an 
other  noble-man  unto  her,  and  asked  of  him  what  Sr  Henry  was  ? 
if  he  knew  him  ?  or  if  a  private  murther  was  committed  to  his 
charge,  whether  he  had  not  the  confcience  to  performe  it  ?  An- 
fwer  was  made  that  he  was  a  man  whom  the  Queene  refpecled, 
and  the  Chancellour  much  favoured." — England's  Elizabeth, 
page  146. 

PAGE  221. 

Is  yet  the  fcaffold ftanding  on  Tower  Hill, 
Whereon  young  Guilford  and  the  Lady  Jane 
Didfuffer  death  ? 

Heywood  here  mifreprefents  the  fact,  for  Lady  Jane  Grey  was 
not  executed  on  Tower  Hill,  but  within  the  Tower,  on  the  I2th 
February,  1554 — 5. 

PAGE  222. 
Enter  Elizabeth,  Beningfield,  Gage,  and  Tame. 

Omnes.     The  Lord preferve  thyfweet  Grace  ! 

Eliz.      What  are  thefe  ? 

Gage.     The  townefmen  of  the  country,  &c. 

"  The  next  morning,  the  country  people,  underftanding  which 
way  me  was  to  take  her  journey,  had  affembled  themfelves  in 
divers  places,  fome  praying  for  her  prefervation  and  liberty ;  others 
prefented  her  with  nofegayes,  and  fuch  expreffion  of  their  loves  as 
the  countrey  afforded.  The  inhabitants  of  neighbour  villages 
commanded  the  Bels  to  be  rung ;  fo  that,  with  the  loud  acclama 
tions  of  People,  and  the  found  of  Bels,  the  very  ayre  did  eccho 
with  the  prefervation  of  Elizabeth.  Which  being  perceived  by 
Sr  Henry  Benningfield,  he  called  them  rebels  and  traytors,  beat 
ing  them  back  with  his  truncheon.  As  for  the  ringers,  he  made 
their  pates  ring  noone  before  they  were  releafed  out  of  the  flocks. 


The  Princeffe  intreated  him  in  their  behalfe,  and  defired  that  he 

would  defift  from  the  rigour  ufed  to  the  people 

At  every  word  he  fpoke  he  ftill  had  up  his  Commimon,  which 
the  Princefs,  taking  notice  of,  told  him  he  was  no  better  than  her 
Goaler.  The  very  name  of  Goaler  moved  his  patience  ;  but 
knowing  not  how  to  mend  himfelfe,  he  humbly  intreated  her 
grace  not  to  ufe  that  name,  it  being  a  name  of  dilhonour,  a  fcan- 
dall  to  his  gentry. — '  It  is  no  matter,'  (faid  me)  *  Sir  Henry  ;  me- 
thinkes  that  name  and  your  nature  agree  well  together.  Let  me  not 
heare  of  that  word  Commimon  :  as  oft  as  you  but  nominate  your 
Commiffion,  fo  oft  will  I  call  you  Gaoler. '  As  me  paffed  along 
towards  Windfor,  divers  of  her  fervants,  feeing  her  paffe  fo  fadly 
by  the  way,  being  fuch  as  had  been  formerly  difcharged  at  the 
diffolution  of  her  houfehold,  requefted  her  Grace  that  (he  would 
vouchfafe  to  refolve  them  whither  me  was  carry ed?  to  whom  me 
fent  back  an  anfwer  in  thefe  two  narrow  words,  Tanquam  Ovis. 
— England's  Elizabeth,  page  155. 

PAGE  223. 

Enter  Beningfield,  &c. 

We  muft  fuppofe  that  the  fcene  here  changes  to  the  houfe  of 
Lord  Tame. 

PAGE  224. 

Enter  Beningfield  and  Barwick,  his  man.. 

BENING.     Barwick,  is  this  the  chaire  offtate?  &c. 

"  Sir  Henry  being  thus  oppofed,  went  up  into  a  chamber,  [af 
the  houfe  of  Lord  Tame]  where  was  prepared  a  chayre,  two 
cufhions,  and  a  rich  carpet  for  her  grace  to  fit  in  ;  but  he,  im 
patient  to  fee  fuch  princely  furniture  for  her  entertainment,  rather 
than  hee  mould  not  bee  taken  notice  of,  like  Heroftratus,  that 
fet  the  Temple  of  Diana  on  fire  onely  to  get  him  a  name,  hee 
prefumptuoufly  fate  in  the  chayre,  and  called  one  Barwicke,  his 
man,  to  pull  off  his  bootes  :  which  being  known  all  over  the 
houfe,  he  was  well  derided  for  his  uncivill  behaviour." — Eng 
land's  Elizabeth,  page  160. 

Ib. 

Well  faid,  Banvick. 

"Well  faid"  was,  of  old,  often  ufed  for  well  done.  See 
Shakefpeare,  edit.  Collier,  iii.,  39  ;  iv.  330;  vi.,  337,  &c. 

B  B   2 


372 

PAGE  224. 
Enter  the  Englijhman  and  Spaniard. 

The  fcene  is  here  transferred  to  London— to  Charing  Crofs— 
where  this  rencontre  is  faid  to  have  occurred. 

PAGE  225. 

Oh  voftro  mandado,  grand  Emperato. 

Sic  in  orig. ;  but  perhaps  we  ought  to  read,  Al  vueftro  man- 
dato,  grande  Emperador.  Heywood  poffibly  thought  that  what 
he  wrote  would  pafs  with  his  audience  for  fufficiently  good 
Spanifh  j  or,  more  probably,  it  was  mifprinted  by  the  old  typo 
grapher. 

Ib. 

Your  grace  may  pur  chafe  glory  from  above. 
Edit.  1632  fubftitutes  honour  for  "glory." 

Ib. 

Then  here  toftay,  and  be  a  mutiner. 

Mutiner  is  the  old  word,  in  the  fame  way  as  Enginer  in  Ham 
let,  aft  iii.  fc.  4.— 

"  For  'tis  the  fport,  to  have  the  enginer 

Hoift  with  his  own  petar." 

Gabriel  Harvey,  in  Pierce 's  Supererogation,  1593,  calls  Nam  "  the 
dreadful  enginer  of  phrafes."  Modern  editors  have  fubftituted 
"engineer,"  in  the  paffage  in  Hamlet,  without  reflecling  what 
was  the  language  of  the  time  when  Shakefpeare  wrote. 

PAGE  226. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Beningneld,  Clarentia,  Tame,  Gage,  and 
Barwicke. 

ELIZ.      What  fear Jul  terror  doth  ajfaile  my  heart  ?  &c. 

"  He  [her  Gentleman  Ufher]  found  Sr  Henry  Benningfield  and 
the  Lord  of  Tame  walking  together,  and  having  fingled  out  the 
L.  of  Tame,  told  him  that  the  caufe  of  his  coming  was  to  be  re- 
folved,  whether  there  were  any  fecret  plot  intended  againft  her 
gr*:e  that  night  or  no  ?  and  if  there  were,  that  he  and  his  fel 
lows  might  know  it,  for  they  mould  account  themfelves  happy  to 
lofe  their  lives  in  her  refcue.  The  Lord  of  Tame  nobly  replyed  that 
all  fuch  fears  were  needleffe,  for  if  any  fuch  thing  were  attempted, 


373 

he  and  all  his  followers  would  fpend  their  blouds  in  her  defence." 
— England's  Elizabeth,  page  153. 

PAGE  228. 

Beningfield  takes  a  book  andlookes  into  it. 
The  probable  meaning  of  this  old  ilage  direction  is,  that  after 
Beningfield  has  taken  up  the  book  (which  turns  out  to  be  a  Bible 
in  Englim)  he  overlooks  and  repeats  what  Elizabeth  has  written. 
This  couplet  is  imputed  to  Elizabeth  in  Foxe's  Afls  and  Monu 
ments,  and  from  thence  Heywood  may  have  derived  it. 

Ib. 

BENING.      What  hasJJie  written  here  ? 

"Before  her  departure  from  Woodftocke,  having  private 
notice  that  one  M.  Edmond  Tremaine  and  M.  Smithweeke  were 
on  the  racke,  and  flriclly  urged  to  have  accufed  her  innocence, 
at  her  remove  from  thence  fhe  wrote  thefe  two  verfes  with  her 
diamond  in  a  glaffe  window  : 

'  Much  fufpected  by  me, 
Nothing  proved  can  be, 

'  Quoth  Elizabeth,  Prifoner.' 

Immediately  after,  order  came  down  to  bring  her  up  to  Court. 
England's  Elizabeth,  page  1 88. 

PAGE  230. 

His  /word  drawne. 

Probably  Barwick  had  drawn  his  fword,  but  it  is  not  eafy  to 
afcertain  to  whom  the  pronoun  "his  "  applies  here. 

PAGE  231. 

Our  Chancellor,  lords. 

Gardiner  had  been  appointed  Lord  Chancellor  on  23rd 
Auguft,  1553.  See  Lord  Campbell's  Lives,  ii.,  54.  Stow  gives 
the  fame  date.  ' '  The  23  of  Auguft,  the  Queen  delivered  Khe 
Great  Seal  to  Doctor  Gardener,  Bifhop  of  Winchefter,  and 
made  him  Lord  Chancellor." — Annales,  1041. 

Ib. 

WINCH.     Fellow,  what  then  ? —  This  warrant,  that  concernes 
The  Princefs  death  Jhiiffle  among /I  the  reft; 
He'll  ne're  perufe'  t. 

"  In  the  interim,  a  warrant  came  downe,  under  feale,  for  her 


374 

execution.  Gardiner  was  the  onely  Daedalus  and  inventor  of  the 
engine  ;  but  Mailer  Bridges  had  the  honour  of  her  delivery  ;  for 
he  no  fooner  received  the  warrant,  but,  miftrufting  falfe  play> 
prefently  made  haft  to  the  Queen.  Shee  was  no  fooner  informed, 
but  renounced  the  leaft  knowledge  thereof,  called  Gardiner  and 
others  whom  me  fufpected  before  her,  blamed  them  for  their 
inhumane  ufage  of  her,  and  took  advice  for  her  better  fecurity  ; 
and  thus  was  Achitophel's  bloudy  device  prevented." — England's 
Elizabeth,  page  146. 

PAGE  232. 

To  refcue  innocence  fo  neare  betray'd. 
Edit.  1605  reads  "  toofoone  betray 'd.'* 

-        Ib. 

Enter  Clown  and  Clarentia, 

Of  courfe,  in  the  country,  where  Beningfield  had  the  cuftody 
of  Elizabeth. 

PAGE  233. 

When  I  would  afcorrid  to  carry  coals. 

This  phrafe  often  occurs  in  our  old  writers,  to  indicate  fubmif- 
fion  to  injury,  indignity,  or  unworthy  office. 

Ib. 

I  am  fure  my  curtail  will  carry  me  as  fa  ft  as  your  double 
Gelding. 

A  "curtail"  was  a  docked,  or  fhort-tailed  horfe  :  the  Clown 
means  to  pun  upon  "  double  gelding  "  and  double  gilding. 

PAGE  234. 
Enter  four  torches. 

The  fcene  changes  to  Hampton  Court,  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  which  Elizabeth  had  arrived  in  the  preceding  fcene.  Among 
the  dramatis  perfona  prefent,  the  important  character  of  "the 
Queen"  is  omitted.  This  interview  is  fuppofed  to  occur  at 
night. 

PAGE  235. 
QUEEN.     Call  the  Princefs  ! 

Exeunt  for  the  Princefs.     Philip  behind  the  arras. 
"At  laft,   after  many  letters   written,  long  fuite,    and  great 


375 

friends  made,  me  was  admitted  to  the  prefence  of  the  Queene, 
whofe  face  in  two  years  and  more  fhe  had  not  feene.  King 
Philip  having  before  mediated  for  her,  and  placed  himfelfe,  un- 
knowne  to  the  Queene,  behind  the  hangings  of  Arras,  on  pur- 
pofe  to  heare  the  difcourfe,  her  grace,  about  ten  of  the  clocke  at 

night,  was  fent  for  into  the  prefence King  Philip, 

having  privately  overheard  the  conference,  was  now  fully  fettled 
in  a  good  opinion  of  her  loyalty." — England's  Elizabeth,  page 
197. 

PAGE  235. 

Andfeare  of  my  Queens  frowne. 

Our  reading  here  is  that  of  the  later  copies  :  edit.  1605  has, 
"for  fear  of  my  Queen's  frown,"  which  does  not  exprefs  what 
Elizabeth  means,  viz.,  that  her  tears  were  compelled  in  part  by 
joy,  and  in  part  by  fear. 

PAGE  236. 

Unnobles  all  his  children. 
All  your  children,  edit.  1605. 

Ib. 

And  when  they  have  all  done  their  worjl. 

The  fenfe  feems  to  require  that  we  mould  read,  "  And  when 
they  have  all  done  their  worft,"  though  the  word  italicifed  is 
wanting  in  the  original.  The  addition  alfo  improves  the  mea.- 
fure,  which,  however,  is  generally  fo  irregular  as  to  be  a  very 
unfure  guide. 

PAGE  237. 
Returne  IJhall,  &c. 

Philip  went  to  Flanders  on  4th  September,  1555,  and  returned 
to  England  23rd  March,  1557. 

PAGE  238. 
My  bones  to  earth  I  give,  &c. 

Bifliop  Gardiner  died  on  I2th  November,  after  the  departure 
of  Philip  to  Flanders. 

Ib. 

Heaven  fhield  my  miftrifs. 
Heaven  blefs  my  miftrefs,  edit.  1632. 


376 
PAGE  238. 


0 

Brave /I  mow,  edit  1632. 

PAGE  240. 

Or  elfe  that  Cardinal  Poole  isfodainly  dead. 
Cardinal  Pole  did  not,  in  fact,  die  until  fome  hours  after 
Queen  Mary  :.  however,  Heywood,  like  other  play-wrights  of  his 
day,  did  not  profefs  to  treat  matters  hiftorically,  but  dramatically. 
Stow  (Annales,  p.  1073)  tells  us  that  Pole  died  on  the  lame  day 
as  Queen  Mary. 

Ib. 

Enter  Elizabeth,  Gage,  and  Clarentia,  above. 
That  is,  we  may  prefume,  in  the  balcony  at  the  back  of  the  old 
ftage.  Elizabeth  was  at  Hatfield  at  the  time  of  the  death  of  her 
fifter.  The  three  bearers  of  the  news  of  the  acceffion  of  Eliza 
beth  muft  have  flood  on  the  boards,  and  from  thence  addreffed 
the  Queen  in  the  balcony  above. 

PAGE  241. 

Rife  thou,  fir/I  Baron  that  we  ever  made. 

-Henry  Carew  (or  Carey)  fon  and  heir  of  William  Carew,  by 
Mary,  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Wiltfhire,  and  fifter  of  Anne 
Boleyn,  mother  of  Elizabeth,  confequently  firft  coufm  to  the  new 
Queen,  was  not,  in  facl;,  created  Baron  Hunfdon  until  I3th 
January,  1559. 

PAGE  243. 

Enter  the  Clowne  and  one  more  with  faggots. 
"  One  more"  was  the  fmalleft  number  that  would  anfwer  the 
purpofe,    and  perhaps  the  largeft  number  the  company  could 
fpare. 

Ib. 

And  yet,  methinke,  twerefit. 
"But  yet,  methink,  'twere  fit  "—edit.  1632. 

PAGE  244. 

Nor  doe  I  you  commend. 
"Nor  do  you  much  commend  " — edit.  1632. 


377 

PAGE  244. 
A  Sennet. 

i.e.,  a.  founding  of  trumpets — fometimes,  perhaps  more  pro 
perly,  printed,  z,fonnet.  Act  iii.  fc.  I  of  Henry  VI.,  Part  II., 
opens  with  "  A  Sennet."  See  alfo  Henry  VIII.  a<5l  ii.  fc.  4, 
which  begins,  "Trumpets  Sennet,  and  Cornets." 

PAGE  246. 

Before  you  let  that  Purfe  and  Mace  be  borne. 
It  feems  doubtful  to  whom  the  Queen  addreffes  this  and  the 
three  preceding  lines.  Sir  Nicholas  Bacon  was  not  made 
Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal  till  December  22,  1558  :  on  the 
fecond  day  of  her  reign  (November  18,  1558)  Elizabeth  had 
taken  it  from  Archbifhop  Heath,  having  thus  early  determined 
that  he  mould  not  continue  in  office,  although  he  was  made  one 
of  her  Privy  Council.  "  The  Purfe  and  Mace  "  fpoken  of  in  the 
line  we  have  quoted,  might  be  the  infignia  of  the  Lord  Cham 
berlain,  but  Lord  Hunfdon  was  not  appointed  to  that  office 
until  afterwards  :  Lord  Howard  of  Effingham  firft  filled  that 
poft,  according  to  Camden's  Elizabeth.— Kennett,  ii.,  369. 

Ib. 

Sennet  about  the  Stage  in  order.     The  Maior  of  London 
meets  them. 

MAIOR.     I  from  this  citie,  London,  doeprefent 
This  purfe  and  Bible  to  your  Maiefty,  &c. 

"  But  being  come  to  the  Little  Conduit  in  Cheape,  Ihee  per 
ceived  an  offer  of  Love,  and  demanded  what  it  might  fignify  ? 
One  told  her  Grace  that  there  was  placed  Time.  '  Time,  Time  ! 
(faid  fhee) '  and  Time,  I  praife  my  God,  hath  brought  me  hither. 
But  what  is  that  other  with  the  Booke  ?'  She  was  refolved  that 
it  was  Truth,  the  daughter  of  Time,  prefenting  the  Bible  in 
Englifh,  whereunto  me  anfwered,  *  I  thanke  the  Citie  for  this 
guift  above  all  the  reft  :  it  is  a  Booke  which  I  will  often  and 
often  read  over.'  Then  me  commanded  Sir  John  Perrot,  one  of 
the  Knights  that  held  up  the  Canopie,  to  go  and  receive  the 
Bible  ;  but  being  informed  that  it  was  to  bee  let  downe  unto  her 
by  a  filken  firing,  fhee  commanded  him  to  flay.  In  the  interim,  a 
Purfe  of  gold  was  prefented  by  the  Recorder,  in  the  behalfe  of 
the  City,  which  fhee  received  with  her  owne  hand." — England's 
Elizabeth,  page  234. 


378 

PAGE  251. 

Atflus  Primus.      Scana  Prima. 

This  is  the  only  mark  of  an  act  or  fcene  in  the  whole  play, 
but  the  divifione  are  ufually  pretty  evident,  from  the  courfe  of  the 
incidents,  or  from  the  progrefs  of  the  dialogue.  In  our  notes, 
wherever  it  feemed  at  all  neceffary,  we  have  pointed  out  the 
changes  of  fcenes  ;  but,  of  courfe,  the  feparation  of  the  different 
acts  could  only  be  a  matter  of  conjecture,  which,  as  heretofore, 
is  left  to  the  reader.  We  muft  fuppofe  this  firft  fcene  to  occur 
in  Grefham's  warehoufe. 

PAGE  253. 

London  will  yeeld  you  partners  enow. 

In  this  line,  ' '  partners  "  is  to  be  read  as  a  trifyllable ;  and 
fuch  was  formerly  the  cafe  with  various  words  now  ufed  as  diffyl- 
lables. 

PAGE  254. 
You  to  Portingall. 
The  common  name  of  Portugal  at  that  date. 

PAGE  255. 

My  morning  exercife  Jkatt  be  at  Saint  Antlins. 
"  A  new  morning  prayer  and  lecture,  the  bells  for  which  be 
gan  to  ring  at  five  in  the  morning,  was  eftabliflied  at  St.  Antho- 
lin's,inBudge  Row,  'after  Geneva  fafhion, '.in  September,  1559  :" 
Cunningham's  Handbook  of  London,  2nd  edit.,  p.  15  :  where  fee 
alfo  other  information  as  to  the  puritanical  character  of  the 
preachings  at  St.  Antolin's,  or  St.  Anthony's. 

PAGE  256. 

lie  beat  linnen-buckes. 

Linen  was  of  old  carried  to  the  walh  in  buck-bafltets,  and  here 
by  "  linen-bucks"  John  Grefliam  feems  to  intend  the  linen  that 
was  contained  in  the  bucks,  and  which  was  to  be  beaten  in  the 
water  to  make  it  clean.  "  This  'tis  to  have  linen  and  buck - 
bafkets.— Merry  Wives  of  Windfor,  ad  iii.  fc.  5. 

Ib. 

Now,  afore  God. 
"  Now,  as  Hive" — edit.  1632. 


379 

PAGE  257. 

The  Dagger  in  Cheape. 

The  Dagger  Tavern  was  in  Cheapfide  ;  and  hence,  as  appears 
afterwards,  Dagger-pies,  often  mentioned  by  our  old  writers.  In 
vol.  ii.  of  Extracts  from  the  Stationers'  Regiflers,  p.  171,  is 
mentioned  the  publication  of  "  A  fancie  on  the  fall  of  the  Dagger 
in  Cheap,"  which  may  mean  either  that  the  houfe,  or  the  fign 
which  it  bore,  fell  down  :  probably  the  latter,  although  the  Editor, 
in  his  note  on  the  entry,  fuppofed  the  word  "fall  "  applied  to 
the  houfe.  There  was  alfo  a  Dagger  Tavern  in  Holborn  :  fee 
Cunningham's  Handbook  of  London,  2nd  edit,  p.  152. 


Your  punkes  and  cockatrices. 
A  cockatrice  was  the  old  cant  name  for  a  proftitute. 

PAGE  258. 

As  white  as  Bears  teeth. 

Poffibly,  thefe  words  apply  to  the  white  money  the  Pedlar 
puts  down,  "  to  pay  the  old  debt,"  before  he  contracts  a  new 
one. 

PAGE  259. 

and  its  thought  yellow  will  grow  a  cuftome. 
It  did  fo  ;  and,  in  fact,  it  was  fo  when  Heywood  wrote,  as  he 
he  informs  us,  though  the  "  cuftom  "  afterwards  became  almoft 
univerfal. 

PAGE  261. 

The  hot-houfes  in  Deepe. 
A  "  hot-houfe"  was  then  a  very  common  name  for  a  brothel. 

PAGE  267. 
Fore  God,  tis  true. 

"7#dm/  'tis  true  "—edit.  1632.  We  have  not  thought  it  neceffary 
always  to  note  variations  of  this  kind,  occafioned  by  the  greater 
ftrictnefs  of  the  law  fubfequent  to  the  publication  of  the  edition 
of  1606. 

PAGE  270. 

/  hope,  John,  youfeare  God. 
"  I  hope,  John,  you  fear  what  you  ought  to  fear  "  —  edit.  1632. 


PAGE  272. 

Let  me  be  called  Cut. 

A  term  of  contempt  or  abufe  which  has  occurred  before,  and 
is  ufed  by  Shakefpeare.  See  Twelfth  Night,  aft  ii.,  fc.  3, 
(edit.  Collier,  iii.,  359)  where  it  is  fufficiently  explained,  and  its 
antiquity  eftablifhed. 

Ib. 

Enter  Honefty  the  Sergeant,  and  Quicke. 

The  fcene  here  changes  to  a  ftreet,  as  is  obvious  from  the 
courfe  of  the  dialogue. 

PAGE  273. 

The  michingyftzw. 

"  Miching  "  means  Dealing.  See  Shakefpeare,  edit.  Collier, 
vii.,  271,  where  it  is  alfo  ftated  that  "mallecho,"  in  Hamlet,  is 
probably  meant  for  the  Spanifh  word  malhecho. 

PAGE  277. 

That  freed  a  begger  at  the  grate  of  Lud-gate. 
"  That  freed/rom  begging 'at  the  grate  at  Ludgate  "—edit.  1632, 
which,   from  the  ftory,  feems  to  be  the  true  reading.      Stow, 
in  his  Survey  of  London,   1599,  p.  33,  gives  the  name  Stephen 
Forfter. 

PAGE  278. 

Although  my  children  laugh,  the  poor  may  cry. 
Edit.  1632  gives  the  line  thus  : — 

"  The  poor  may  laugh,  although  my  children  cry  ;" 
which  is  a  reading  clearly  not  attributable  to  the  poet  himfelf. 

PAGE  282. 

Enter  John  Tawnie-coat. 

The  fcene  changes  to  a  ftreet  into  which  Hobfon's  mop  opens. 
The  Pedlar  is  ftill  called  John  Tawny-coat,  but  he  now  wears  a 
grey  coat. 

Ib. 

Coming  from  the  Stocks. 

The  Stocks,  as  it  was  called,  flood  on  the  ground  now  occu 
pied  by  the  Maniion  Houfe.  (Cunningham's  Handbook  of  Lon 
don,  p.  473,  2nd  edit.)  The  figns  of  the  houfes  mentioned  by 
Tawny-coat  form  a  curious  note  of  locality  :  they  were,  no 
doubt,  the  very  figns  exifling  there  in  Heywood's  time. 


PAGE  283. 
A  t  Brijlow  fair. 
Briftol  was  then  ufually  written  and  printed  Briftow. 

PAGE  284. 

Their  mafters  haire  grow  through  his  hood. 
"  Through  his  head  "—edit.  1606. 

Ib. 

Do  you  hear,  hoyden  ? 

Gifford  (Jonfon's  Works,  vi.,  171)  fays  that  hoiden  is  "  con 
fined  to  defignate  fome  romping  girl ;"  but,  in  fa£t,  it  was  ap 
plied  to  both  fexes,  and  here  we  have  it  addreffed  to  the  Pedlar. 

Ib. 

Tell  it  out  "with  a  wanion. 

i.  e.,  with  a  vengeance,  of  which  one  may  poffibly  be  a  corrup 
tion  of  the  other  :  the  etymology  of  "  wanion  "  is  very  doubtful. 

PAGE  285. 

It  appears  he  is  befides  him, 
"  It  appears  the  poor  fellow  is  befides  himfelf  " — edit.  1632. 

PAGE  289. 

To  any  man  will  buy  them  and  remove  them. 
Stow  (Annales,  1615,  p.  1117)  fpeaks  as  follows  of  this  under 
taking  and  its  completion  : — "  Certain  houfes  in  Cornhill  being 
firfl  purchafed  by  the  citizens  of  London,  at  their  charges,  for 
certain  thoufands  of  pounds,  were  in  the  month  of  February 
cried  by  the  Bellman,  and  afterwards  fold  to  fuch  perfons  as 
mould  take  them  down  and  carry  them  from  thence  ;  which  was 
done  in  the  months  of  April  and  May  next  following.  And  then, 
the  ground  being  made  plain,  at  the  charges  alfo  of  the  city 
(having  coft  them,  one  way  and  other,  more  than  five  thoufand 
pound)  poffeffion  thereof  was  by  certain  Aldermen,  in  the  name 
of  the  whole  citizens,  given  to  the  right  wormipful  Sir  Thomas 
Greiham,  knight,  agent  to  the  Queen's  highnefs,  there  to  build  a 
place  for  merchants  to  affemble  in,  at  his  own  proper  charges  ; 
who  on  the  feventh  of  June  laid  the  firft  ftone  of  the  foundation 
(being  brick)  and  forthwith  the  workmen  followed  upon  the 


382 

ame  with  fuch  diligence,  that  by  the  month  of  November,  in  the 
year  of  our  Lord  1567,  the  fame  was  covered  with  flate.  And 
on  the  22  day  of  December,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord,  1568,  the 
merchants  of  London  left  their  meetings  in  Lombard  Street,  at 
fuch  times  as  they  had  accuftomed  there  to  meet,  and  this  day 
came  into  the  new  Burfe,  builded  by  Sir  Thomas  Grefham,  as  is 
afore  mowed." 

PAGE  290. 

The  round  is  grated. 

The  old  copies  have  greater,  but  we  have  ventured  to  alter  it 
to  grated,  in  conformity  with  what  follows,  where  Sir  T. 
Grefham  explains  the  ufe  of  the  "  grates."  Greater  hardly  makes 
fenfe  of  the  paffage. 

PAGE  291. 

Here,  like  a  -poxifti  for  good  Citizens. 

Perhaps  we  ought  to  read/arzw  for  "parifh  ;"  but  the  old 
copies  are  uniform. 

PAGE  292. 

A  blazing Jiar. 

This  blazing  ftar,  mentioned  in  the  margin,  may  have  eafily 
been  rendered  vifible  to  the  audience  by  artificial  means. 

PAGE  293. 
The  battle  of  Alcafar. 

The  incidents  relating  to  this  battle  had  been  brought  upon 
the  ftage  by  George  Peele  (at  leafl  the  play  has  in  modern  times 
been  plaufibly  imputed  to  him)  in  a  drama  entitled  The  Battle  of 
Alcazar,  fought  in  Barbary,  between  Sebajiian,  King  of  Portugal 
and  Abddmelec,  King  of  Morocco.  With  the  death  of  Captain 
Stukeley?  &c.,  4to,  1594.  See  Peele's  Works,  edit.  Dyce,  ii.,  82. 
A  play  in  which  Stukeley  figured  was  performed  by  Henflowe's 
company  in  1596  :  fee  Henflowe's  Diary,  p.  77.  Whetftone,  in 
his  Englifh  Myrror,  1586,  p.  84,  gives  a  narrative  of  the  battle, 
but  does  not  mention  Stukeley. 

PAGE  294. 

//  may  be  the  hang-man  will  buy  fame  of  it  for  halters. 
Hobfon  had  fent  for  matches  of  goods,  or  pieces  of  fimilar 
pattern  and  fabric  ;  and  John  Grefliam  had  bought  for  him  two 
thoufand  pounds'  worth  of  fuch  match  as  was  of  old  ufed  by  fol- 


383 

diers  for  fetting  fire  to  gunpowder  and  other  combuftibles  :  it  was 
made  of  tow,  like  rope. 

PAGE  295. 
My  doubt  is  more. 

Poffibly,  "doubt"  is  a  mifprint  for  debt ;  but  "doubt"  is  in 
telligible,  and  all  the  old  copies  concur  in  that  word. 

PAGE  296. 

The  pictures  graven  of  all  the  Engli/h  kings. 
By  "pictures"  was  fometimes,  of  old,  meant Jlatues—  perhaps 
becaufe  ftatues  were  formerly  often  painted.  This  fhould  be 
borne  in  mind  in  reading  the  laft  fcene  of  The  Winter's  Tale. 
The  word  "  rooms,"  in  the  preceding  line,  means  merely  places, 
or  niches. 

Ib. 

Admirable. 

So  edits.  1606 — 1623;  that  of  1632  has,  "Very  admirable, 
and  worthy  praife." 

PAGE  297. 

The  waits  in  Sergeants  gowns. 

The  waits  were  the  city  muficians,  and  they  were  perhaps 
dreffed  "  in  Sergeants'  gowns,"  for  greater  ftate.  They  are  again 
mentioned  in  a  later  fcene. 

PAGE  298. 

Thatjhips  rich  fraught. 
Edit.  1606  omits  "fraught,"  and  edit.  1623  omits  "rich." 

Ib. 

The  feueral  Ambajfadors  there  will  heare, 
"  Then  will  hear  "—edit.  1606. 

PAGE  301. 

Thus  treads  on  a  kings  prefent. 

"  Meaning  the  flippers,"  are  explanatory  words  inferted  in  the 
margin  of  the  earlier  editions. 

PAGE  302. 

Enter  Tawny-coat,  with  a  fpade. 
Tawny-coat  is  the  Pedlar,  John  Goodfellow,  called,  as  we 


384 

have  feen,  Tawny-coat  from  the  drefs  he  wears  early  in  tbe 
play.  He  has  been  reduced  to  extreme  poverty,  and  the  fcene 
here  muft  be  underftood  to  reprefent  the  neighbourhood  of  Dept- 
ford,  not  very  far  from  the  Bankfide.  We  muft  bear  in  mind 
that  even  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  Bankfide,  efpecially 
towards  Newington  Butts,  was  then  all  open  fields  and  marfhy 
grounds,  much  covered  with  wood,  and  not,  as  now,  confiding 
merely  of  ftreets  and  houfes. 

PAGE  302. 

Whither  wilt  thou  wit  ? 

A  proverbial  exclamation  of  frequent  occurrence,  and  ufed  by 
Shakefpeare  in  As  You  Like  It. 

PAGE  304. 
John  Rowland  fir. 

By  an  error  of  the  tranfcriber  or  printer,  or  by  the  forgetful- 
nefs  of  the  poet,  John  Goodfellow,  as  Tawny-coat  has  been 
hitherto  called,  is  here,  and  henceforth  to  the  end  of  the  play, 
named  John  Rowland.  Robin  Goodfellow,  the  fprite,  has  been 
mentioned  on  the  preceding  page,  and  poffibly  the  confufion  has 
been  occafioned  by  this  circumftance. 

PAGE  306. 
but  I  doe  not  think  him  guilty,  yet  I  could  fay. 

So  the  firft  edition  (1606)  :  the  edition  of  1623  has  dropped 
out  all  the  words  after  "  doe  not,"  leaving  the  fpeech  incomplete. 
The  edition  of  1632  adds,  "  But  I  do  not  fpeak  what  I  think, 
and  yet  I  think  more  at  this  time  than  I  mean  to  fpeak." 

Ib. 

As  he  no  queftion  does  deferve. 

"Does  deferve fomething"  edit.  1632.  Other  minor  variations 
occur  in  this  part  of  the  fcene. 

PAGE  307. 

Enter  John  and  Curtezan. 

The  fcene  here  fliifts  to  France  ;  the  licence  allowed  to  our 
old  dramatifts,  and  the  loud  calls  they  made  upon  the  imagina 
tions  of  their  auditors,  are  mown  by  the  incident  that  Hobfon 


3$5 

firft  wanders  to  Deptford,  and  then  proceeds  to  France  in  his 
nightcap,  gown,  and  flippers,  in  order  to  detect  John  Grefham  in 
his  pranks. 

PAGE  307. 

yetile  hd!  the  firft  venney. 

Veney^  or  venie,  was  a  fencing  term,  from  the  French,  and  fig- 
nified  the  touch  or  blow  with  the  foil :  "the  firft  veney"  is  the 
firft  hit. 

Ib. 

Why  then  the  Englifhman  for  thy  money. 

This  expreffion  was  proverbial,  and  a  play  was  written  by 
William  Haughton,  and  printed  in  1616,  under  the  title  of  Eng- 
lijhmenfor  my  Money,  or  a  Woman  will  have  her  Will. 

PAGE  309. 

Enter  at  the  other  end  ofthejlage  Hobfow. 

John  and  the  Courtefan  withdraw  from  one  room  into  another, 
and,  immediately,  the  ftage  is  fuppofed  to  reprefent  the  outfide 
of  a  houfe.  Hobfon  knocks  at  a  door,  and  is  anfwered  by  Puella, 
(as  (he  is  called  in  the  ftage  direction)  probably  from  the  balcony 
which  then  was  to  be  taken  for  a  window. 

PAGE  310. 

Do,  my  fweete  Buffamacke. 

Buffalmaco  is  the  name  of  a  hero  in  Boccaccio,  (Day  viii., 
nov.  3)  and  he  was  brought  upon  the  Englifh  ftage  by  Marfton  ; 
but  why  that  name,  or  any  corruption  of  it,  mould  have  been 
applied  to  this  wench,  we  cannot  determine. 

PAGE  311. 

A  haberdajher  of  fmall  wares. 

John  fays  "  of  all  wares,"  for  the  fake  of  his  pretended  excufe, 
and  Hobfon  corrects  him  ;  but  edit.  1632  has  all  in  both  places, 
by  which  the  joke,  fuch  as  it  is,  is  facrificed. 

PAGE  313. 
Meafar  man  a  moy. 

This,  and  fome  of  the  gibberifli  that  follows,  could  hardly  be 
jntended  by  Heywood  for  French,  but  merely  for  fomething  that 
founded  like  it.  We  print  it  as  it  ftands  in  the  original. 

1  c  c 


386 

PAGE  315. 

No  more  of  French  loue,  no  more  French  lojfcfliall  do. 
This  is  not  very  clear,  and  edit.  1632  fubftitutes  "  No  more  of 
French,  no  more  French  craft  mall  do."     To  orriit  "of"  in  the 
line   as   it  ftands  in  the  text,   would  improve  both  fenfe  and 

metre. 

PAGE  316. 

Enter  Sir  Thomas  Ramfie,  £c. 

After  the  preceding  highly  comic  and  well  managed,  though 
not  very  probable,  fcene,  the  ftage  now  again  reprefents  part  of 
the  city  of  London.  The  firft  words  of  Sir  Thomas  Ramfey's 
fpeech  afford  another  out  of  innumerable  inftances  where  "well 
faid"  is  to  be  taken  for  well  done. 

PAGE  319. 

And  whiljl  this  voice  files  through  the  City  forth-right. 
Ed.  1632  reads  "ftreets"  for  City. 

Ib. 

Enter  Nowell  and  Lady  Ramfie. 

The  precife  interval  fuppofed  to  occur  between  this  fcene  and 
the  laft  is  not  known,  as  no  authority  that  we  have  been  able  to 
confult  gives  the  date  of  the  laft  illnefs  and  death  of  Sir  Thomas 
Ramfey.  The  ftage  now  reprefents  his  houfe. 

Ib. 

A  mafter  of  the  Hofpitall. 
i.e.,  Chrift's  Hofpital. 

PAGE  322. 

,         Whofe  verlue  all  the  world 

A  fentence,  we  may  fuppofe,  purpofely  left  incomplete ;  but  in 
ome  of  the  later  editions  the  blank  is  filled  up  by,  "Whofe 
virtue  is  ^lnmatcKd" 

Ib. 

Enter  Dofl.  Parry. 

It  is  curious  to  compare  Heywood's  treatment  of  this  fubjecl:, 
i.e.,  the  attempted  affaffmation  of  Queen  Elizabeth  by  Doctor 
Parry,  with  that  of  Dekker  in  his  Whore  of  Babylon,  publimed  a 
year  later  (1607). 


PAGE  326. 

Asjhe  turnes  back,  £c. 
This  ftage-direction  was  added  in  the  edition  of  1632. 

Ib. 

Pardon,  thou  villain,  JJieives  thou  art  a  traitor. 
Edit.  1632  gives  the  line,    "  Pardon,  thou  villain,  that  (hows 
thou  art  a  traitor." 

PAGE  327. 

Arife. 

We  doubt  if  this  word  were  not  meant  for  a  ftage-direclion 
We  may  conclude  that  Parry  fell  upon  his  knees,  and  that  the 
Queen's  fpeech  ended  with  the  clofe  of  the  couplet. 

PAGE  330. 
till  death  us  depart. 

This  is  the  old  and  true  word  in  the  marriage  ceremony  :  in 
modern  times,  when  the  meaning  of. to  "depart,"  as  tofeparale, 
was  forgotten,  do  part  has  been  fubftituted  for  depart. 

PAGE  332. 
Enter  Chorus. 

The  editions  of  this  play,  in  1606 — 1623,  have  no  part  of  this 
Chorus,  which  is  firft  found  in  edit.  1632.  From  that  impreffiou 
we  have  reprinted  all  the  reft  of  this  play,  fince  it  varies  impor 
tantly  from  the  earlier  copies. 

PAGE  334. 

Climes  that  took  up  the  gnate/l  part  o'  th?  card. 
"  Card"  was  then  the  ordinary  term  for  map:   hence,  "to 
fleer  by  the  card  ;"  and,  figuratively,  "to  talk  by  the  card,"  in 
reference  to  exadlnefs  and  fafety  of  difcourfe. 

PAGE  337. 

Drum  and  colours.      Enter  the  Earle  of  Lecefter,  &c. 
The  fcene  now  becomes  the  famous  camp  near  Tilbury ;  but 
we  may  be  faid  to  have  no  means  of  deciding  how  far  the  ftage 
itfelf  and  its  appurtenances  accorded  with  thefe  changes.     Per 
haps  little  more  was  done  than  what  was  effected  by  the  appear- 

C  C    2 


388 

ance  of  the  perfons  and  their  accoutrements,  and  the  mention, 
very  early  in  the  dialogue,  of  the  fuppofed  place  of  action. 
"  Drum  and  colours"  may  (how  that  one  drum  and  one  pair  of 
colours  anfwered  the  purpofe. 

PAGE  351. 
Epilogue. 

Printed  in   Heywood's  Pleafant  Dialogues    and  Dramma's 
(Lond.  1637),  p.  249. 


END   OF   FIRST  VOLUME. 


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