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UNIV.  OF 
LIBRARY 


Materialien  zur   Kunde 

des 
alteren   Englischen   Dramas 


jflaterialien  zur  Kande 

des  alteren  Englisehen  Dramas 

UNTER  MITWIRKUNG  DER  HERREN 


F.  S.  Boas-LoxDOX,  A.  Brandl-BiiRLiN,  R.  Brotanek-PRAG,  F.  I.  Carpenter- 
CHICAGO,  Ch.  Crawford-LoNDON,  G.  B.  Churchill-AMHERST,  W.  Creizenach- 
KRAKAU,  E.  Eckhardt-pREiBURG  I.  B.,  A.  Feuillerat-RENNES,  R.  Fischer- 
INNSBRUCK,  W.  W.  Greg-LoNDON,  F.  Holthausen-KiEL,  J.  HOOPS-HEIDELBERG, 
W.  Keller-MiiNSTER,  R.  B.  Me  Kerrow- LONDON, .G.  L.  Kittredge-CAMBRiDGE, 
MASS.,  E.  Koeppel-SiRASSBURG,  J.  Le  Gay  Brereton-SiDNEY,  H.  Logeman- 
GENT,  J.  M.  Manly-CniCAGO,  G.  Sarrazin-BRESLAU,  t  L.  Proescholdt-pRiED- 
RICHSDORF,  A.  Schroer-CoLN,  G.  C.  Moore  Smith-SHEFFiELD,  G.  Gregory 
Smith-BELFAST,  A.  E.  H.  Swaen-GRONiNGEN,  A.  H.  Thorndike-NEW-YoRK, 
t  A.  Wagner-HALLE  A.  S. 

BEGRUENDET   UND    HERAUSGEGEBEN 


VON 


W.  BANG 

o.  6.  Professor  cler  Englischen  Philologie  an  der  Universitat  Louvain 


DRE1UNDDREISSIGSTER  BAND 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 


LEIPZIG 


O.  HARRASSOWITZ 


LONDON 

DAVID  NUTT 


IQII 


A  NEWE  INTERLUDE 


OF 


IMPACYENTE  POUERTE 


from  the  quarto  of  i56o 


EDITED 


BY 


R.  B.  M^  KERROW 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 

LEIPZIG  LONDON 

O.  HARRASSOW1TZ  DAVID  NUTT 

IQII 


pff 

2 

13 


INTRODUCTION. 


1)  External  History  of  the  Play. 

Impatient  Poverty  was  entered  in  the  Stationers'  Register  on  June 
10,  1560,  as  follows  : 

Recevyd  of  John  kynge  for  his  lycense  for  pryntrnge  of  these 
Copyes  Lucas  vrialis  nyce  wanton  impaciens  poverte  The  proude 
wyves  pater  noster  /  The  squyre  of  Low  degre  /  and  syr  deggre 
graunted  ye  x  of  June  anno  1560  ijs  [Arber's  Transcript,  i.  128]  (1). 

Apart  from  this  entry,  the  earliest  reference  to  the  play  which  has 
been  found  is  in  the  anonymous  Sir  Thomas  More  (c.  1590),  IV.  i. 
42  (ed.  Tucker  Brooke  in  The  Shakespeare  Apocrypha),  where  it  is 
included  in  a  list  of  plays  which  a  player  announces  himself  as  ready 
to  perform  before  More's  guests  : 

Moore.     I  prethee,  tell  me,  what  playes  haue  ye  ? 

Player.    Diuers,  my  lord  :  The  Cradle  of  Securitie, 
Hit  nayle  o'  th  head,  Impacient  Pouertie, 
The  play  of  Four e  Pees,  Diues  and  Lazarus, 
Lustie  Juuentus,  and  The  Manage  of  Witt  and  Wisedome. 

The  only  thing  that  we  can  infer  from  this  allusion  is  that,  at  the 
date  when  Sir  Thomas  More  was  written,  Impatient  Poverty  was 
regarded  as  a  very  old  play  and  one  probably  extant  in  More's  time. 

It  is  included  in  the  four  early  booksellers'  lists  (1656-1671)  printed 
by  Greg  in  his  List  of  Masques  (Bibl.  Soc.),  p.  Ixxvii. 


(1)  Four  of  the  books  entered  with  Impatient  Poverty  were  printed  by  John  King 
in  the  same  year  1560,  namely  :  The  goodly  History  of...  Ladye  Lucres  of  Scene  in 
Tuskan,  &  of  her  lover  Eurialus,  (Huth  Catalogue) ;  Nice  wanton  (see  Greg's  Hand 
list,  122);  The  Proude  Wyves  Pater  noster  (Hazlitt,  Hand-book,  375) ;  Syr  Degorc 
(Hazlitt,  Hand-book,  152).  Of  the  Squire  of  Low  Degree  no  edition  by  King  is  known 
to  have  survived  (\\.  E.  Mead,  The  Squyr,  1904,  p.  xii). 


VI 

Langbaine  in  his  Account  of  the  English  Dramatick  Poets,  1691, 
p.  535,  notices  it  as  follows  : 

«  Impatient  Poverty,  stiled  a  Comedy  by  some  Catalogues.  This 
Play  I  never  saw  ».  This  entry,  with  the  omission  of  the  last  five 
words,  is  repeated  in  The  Lives  and  Characters  of  the  English  Poets 
[1599],  p.  162. 

Chetwood's  British  Theatre,  1750,  p.  22,  under  «  Plays  wrote  by 
Anonymous  Authors  in  the  15th  [sic]  Century  »  has 

«  XXIII.  Impatiente  Povertie,  1590  »  (1). 

The  first  theatrical  historian,  however,  to  see  a  copy  of  the  play 
seems  to  have  been  the  compiler  of  The  Companion  to  the  Play-House, 
1764,  D.  E.  Baker,  whose  entry  of  the  work  is  as  follows  (vol.  i, 
sig.  K5)  : 

A  newe  INTERLUDE  OF  IMPACYENTE  POVERTE,  newlye  Imprinted. 
M.V.L.X.  (I  suppose  1560.)  4to.  —  This  Piece  is  in  Metre,  and  in 
the  old  Black  Letter,  and  the  Title  Page  says,  «  Foure  Men  may  well 
and  ease lye  play e  this  Interlude  ». 

This  entry  is  repeated,  practically  unchanged,  in  the  revised  Com 
panion  published  in  1782  and  1812  as  the  Biographia  Dramatica, 
and  Halliwell  in  his  Dictionary  merely  adds  that  the  play  is  alluded 
to  in  Sir  Thomas  More.  Hazlitt  in  his  Manual,  however,  gives 
the  names  of  the  characters  as  they  appear  on  the  title-page,  from 
which  we  may  perhaps  infer  that  he  had  seen  a  copy.  In  recent  years 
Impatient  Poverty  has  always  been  regarded  as  «  lost  »  ;  but  in  the 
summer  of  1906  a  copy  occured  for  sale  at  Sotheby's,  and  was 
bought  for  the  British  Museum.  It  is  from  this  copy  (C.  34.  i.  26) 
that  the  present  reprint  has  been  made. 

In  1907  it  was  included,  in  modern  spelling,  in  the  volume  entitled 
Recently  Recovered  «  Lost  »  Tudor  Plays  edited  by  J.  S.  Farmer, 
where  it  occupies  pp.  311-48  (2),  and  in  the  same  year  Mr  Farmer 


(1)  This  date  appears  to  be  an  error  of  the  compiler's  and  not  a  misprint,  for  the 
plays  are  arranged  chronologically  and  this  comes  between  those  dated  1589  and  1591 . 

(2)  The  volume  includes  a  glossary  in  which  are  incorporated  notes  on  the 
allusions  in  the  various  plays. 


VII 

issued  it  in  facsimile.  In  1909  he  also  issued  a  reprint  in  old  spelling, 
without  notes,  in  a  series  entitled  «  The  Tudor  Reprinted  and 
Parallel  Texts  ». 

2.  The  Plot  of  the  Play. 

Impatient  Poverty  is  by  no  means  easy  to  follow  at  a  first  reading, 
partly  on  account  of  the  perplexing  way  in  which  —  as  commonly  in 
these  interludes  ~  the  characters  change  their  names,  and  it  may 
therefore  be  useful  to  give  a  summary  of  the  action.  When  a  character 
takes  an  assumed  name  I  have  from  time  to  time  added  the  real  one 
in  brackets,  as  a  reminder.  It  should  be  noted  that  in  some  cases  the 
assumed  name  is  given  as  that  of  the  speaker,  but  usually  the  real 
one  is  kept,  even  though  the  character  is  addressed  by  the  assumed 
one.  Thus  Envy  is  sometimes  addressed  as  Charity,  though  Charity 
never  appears  as  a  speaker's  name.  The  same  is  the  case  with  Mis 
rule,  who  takes  the  name  of  Mirth.  On  the  other  hand  when  the  name 
of  Impatient  Poverty  is  changed  to  that  of  Prosperity,  and  later  back 
again  to  Poverty,  the  speakers'  names  follow  these  changes. 

Peace  enters  accompanied,  or  shortly  followed,  by  Envy.  He 
introduces  himself  in  a  speech  attacking  envy  and  malice.  Envy 
replies,  but  is  worsted  in  the  argument  and  retires  (94).  Impatient 
Poverty  enters  (102)  very  angry  about  a  knave  who  would  have 
arrested  him  for  debt.  Peace  quiets  him  and  promises  to  show  him 
how  to  become  rich,  namely  by  loving  his  neighbour  (166).  Impatient 
Poverty  is  finally  converted  and  determines  to  live  for  the  future  in 
Christ's  law  (212).  Peace  then  puts  a  new  garment  on  him  and  gives 
him  the  name  of  Prosperity  (220),  together  with  a  deal  of  good 
advice.  They  then  go  out  together  (241). 

Habundance  now  enters  and  introduces  himself  in  a  long  speech 
describing  the  usurer's  tricks  by  which  he  has  become  rich.  Con 
science,  who  perhaps  entered  with  him,  argues  that  usury  is  sinful 
(275),  but  Habundance  is  not  convinced  and  finally  goes  out  (404). 
Conscience  moralizes  a  little  and  then  Envy  comes  running  in  (412) 
with  an  unintelligible  tale  of  some  quarrel  that  he  has  seen.  Con- 


VIM 


science  rebukes  him  for  his  language  and  asks  him  his  name  (435). 
He  replies  that  it  is  Charity,  which  Conscience  will  not  at  first 
believe,  though  he  seems  after  a  while  to  be  convinced.  Envy  now 
says  that  Conscience  is  in  danger  of  being  hanged  and  drawn  (479) 
and  on  being  asked  his  advice  (498)  urges  him  to  flee  to  the  wilder 
ness  «  or  some  other  region  »  (500).  Conscience  therefore  departs, 
Envy  pretending  to  weep  for  him.  As  soon,  however,  as  he  is  gone, 
Envy  bursts  out  laughing.  He  reveals  his  real  name  and  announces 
his  hatred  of  Prosperity  (527)  (1).  Prosperity  (Imp.  Pov.),  now  enters 
(533),  and  Envy  greets  him  by  his  old  name  of  Impatient  Poverty. 
When  however  Prosperity  explains  the  change  in  his  name  and 
circumstances,  Envy  makes  up  to  him,  telling  him  that  he  is  Chanty 
(561).  Prosperity  still  refuses  to  have  anything  to  do  with  him,  until' 
he  presently  informs  him  that  he  has  £  300  which  he  will  give  him  to 
take  charge  of,  while  he,  Charity  (Envy),  goes  to  Jerusalem  (573). 
Prosperity  of  course  at  once  becomes  most  friendly  with  him,  and 
commissions  him  to  find  him  some  servants.  This  he  promises  to  do 
and  Prosperity  goes  out  leaving  him  alone  on  the  stage  (597).  Misrule 
now  enters  (611),  and  Envy  arranges  with  him  that  he  shall  become 
Prosperity's  servant  and  ruin  him.  Prosperity  re-enters  (640)  and 
agrees  to  take  Misrule,  who  is  called  Mirth,  as  his  servant.  Prosperity 
puts  on  some  new  clothes  (689)  and  they  begin  to  revel  together. 
Peace  now  enters  (697)  and  rebukes  Prosperity,  but  he  refuses  to 
listen  and,  with  his  companions,  drives  Peace  out  (747).  They  then 
decide  to  go  to  a  tavern  where  they  will  meet  a  Frenchman  Cole- 
hazard  with  whom  they  can  play  at  dice.  Mirth  (Misrule)  is  sent 
before  to  order  the  dinner  (782).  The  others  follow,  leaving  the  stage 
empty  (792). 

Peace  now  enters  and  laments  the  misconduct  of  Prosperity,  who 
is  spending  his  time  with  gamblers  and  rioters.  He  determines  to  do 
what  he  can  to  reform  him,  and  goes  out  (812). 


(1)  Envy  apparently  does  not  yet  know  that  Prosperity  is  identical  with  Impatient 
Poverty,  though  he  is,  somewhat  strangely,  aware  that  he  is  a  near  kinsman  of 
his  own. 


IX 

Misrule  enters  looking  for  Colehazard  and  Envy,  who  appear 
immediately  after.  He  tells  them  that  he  has  brought  Prosperity  to 
ruin  by  dice  and  cards.  Misrule  and  Colehazard  quarrel  about  the 
money  which  the  latter  has  won  from  Prosperity,  and  they  go  out 
fighting  (861),  leaving  Envy  on  the  stage.  Prosperity  (Imp.  Pov.)  now 
enters  as  Poverty,  complaining  that  his  wealth  is  gone  and  his  servants 
have  abandoned  him  (869).  Envy  calls  back  Misrule,  who  enters  (871), 
and  together  they  ridicule  Poverty  (Prosperity,  Imp.  Pov.)  and  finally 
go  out  (910,  912),  Poverty  calling  upon  Envy,  whom  he  knows  by 
the  name  of  Charity,  to  remain  with  him.  He  then  repents  his  ill- 
doing.  A  Sumner  now  enters  (935)  and  summons  him  to  appear  in 
court.  Poverty  goes  out,  but  as  the  Sumner  is  about  to  follow  him, 
Habundance  enters  (945),  and  the  Sumner  summons  him  to  appear 
also  (972)  to  answer  for  certain  misdeeds.  Habundance  however 
states  his  willingness  to  buy  himself  off,  and  the  Sumner  advises 
him  to  make  a  present  to  the  judge  (983),  which  will  ensure  his  being 
set  at  liberty.  For  this  advice  Habundance  gives  the  Sumner  forty 
pence,  and  they  go  out  together  (986). 

The  Sumner  re-enters  with  Poverty,  who  is  doing  penance.  Peace 
enters  (1001)  and  asks  Poverty  who  he  is.  Poverty  explains  what  has 
happened  to  him  and  Peace  thereupon  interrogates  the  Sumner  as 
to  his  proceedings,  and  accuses  him  of  letting  Habundance  go  free. 
The  Sumner  after  a  feeble  attempt  to  excuse  himself,  goes  out  (1051). 
Peace  now  gives  Poverty  some  good  advice  as  to  his  future 
behaviour,  and  sums  up  the  moral  of  the  play.  Poverty  speaks  a  few 
words  of  apology  for  the  performance  and  Peace  concludes  with  a 
prayer  for  the  Queen. 

3.  Authorship. 

So  far  as  I  am  aware  the  name  of  no  author  has  been  suggested, 
The  play  does  not  appear  to  have  striking  similarity  with  any  other 
of  the  period. 

4.  Date  of  Composition. 

There  does  not  seem  to  be  any  clear  indication  of  the  date  of  com- 


position.  1  have  however  drawn  attention  in  the  notes  to  two  points 
which  might  lead  us  to  choose  the  years  1550-1558,  probably  indeed 
the  reign  of  Queen  Mary,  as  the  most  likely  date  for  this  (1).  It 
must,  however,  be  acknowledged  that  the  indications  are  of  no  great 
weight,  and  in  any  case  we  cannot  of  course  be  certain  that  the 
passages  in  which  they  are  found  formed  part  of  the  play  as  it  was 
originally  written.  The  general  roughness  of  style  and  feebleness  of 
plot  would  incline  one  to  suspect  a  much  earlier  date. 

5.  Possibilities  of  Revision. 

It  is  quite  evident  that  the  closing  speech  of  the  play  has  been 
revised  in  order  to  fit  it  for  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and  it  is  possible 
that  this  is  not  the  only  alteration.  The  play  is,  in  its  present  state, 
so  rough  in  construction  and  style  that  it  is  difficult  to  get  clear 
evidence  of  this,  but  I  cannot  help  suspecting  that  the  characters 
Habundance,  Conscience,  and  the  Sumner  were  not  in  the  play  as 
originally  composed.  To  begin  with,  Habundance  is  not  wanted  :  as 
a  character  he  simply  duplicates  Prosperity.  He  has  nothing  whatever 
to  do  with  the  main  action  of  the  play  and  never  even  speaks  to  one 
of  the  principal  characters.  Conscience  seems  to  have  been  introduced 
simply  to  make  Habundance  explain  himself.  He  does  indeed  talk  for 
a  while  with  Envy,  but  after  this  he  departs  and  is  not  seen  again. 
The  purpose  of  the  Sumner  is  merely  to  show  how  different  is  the 
treatment  which  a  rich  man  and  a  poor  man  receive  at  the  hands  of 
the  law.  It  may  be  noticed  that  all  the  more  direct  and  topical  satire 
of  the  play,  such  as  the  description  of  the  tricks  of  usurers,  and 
the  attacks  on  simony  and  on  bribery  in  the  law  courts,  are  to  be 
found  in  the  scenes  in  which  these  characters  figure.  The  morality  of 
the  rest  of  the  play  is  much  less  concerned  with  actual  affairs. 

6.  Locality  and  dialect  of  the  Play. 

The  attempt  to  determine  the  locality  in  which  Impatient  Poverty 


(1)  See  notes  on  11.  253,  &c.,  1085-90. 


XI 

was  written  is  attended  by  much  difficulty.  There  seem  to  be  fairly 
clear  indications  that  it  was  not  the  work  of  a  Londoner,  and  that  the 
corrupt  state  in  which  the  text  has  come  down  to  us  is  due,  at  any 
rate  in  part,  to  the  substitution  of  words  and  forms  familiar  to  Lon 
don  readers  for  those  of  another  dialect ;  but  to  determine  what  that 
other  dialect  was,  is  far  from  easy.  That  a  sixteenth-century  printer 
troubled  himself  little  about  following  the  MS.  of  his  author  in  minor 
points  is  well  known,  and  there  are  a  number  of  cases  in  which  texts 
have  evidently  been  tampered  with  for  religious  or  political  reasons  (1). 
Examples  of  deliberate  alteration  in  order  to  avoid  linguistic  diffi 
culties  are  however,  less  easy  to  discover,  for  in  the  comparatively 
few  cases  in  which  a  popular  work  of  undoubtedy  dialectal  origin 
was  printed  in  London,  such  as  Adam  Bell  or  Chevy  Chase,  we 
generally  find  either  that  there  is  no  original  text  with  which  to  com 
pare  it,  or  that  the  differences  are  so  great  as  to  amount  to  entire 
rewriting. 

There  is,  however,  one  author  of  the  first  rank  whose  works  were 
printed,  during  the  sixteenth  century,  both  in  England  and  Scotland, 
namely  Sir  David  Lindsay,  and  though  the  alterations  made  in  these 
by  the  London  printer  or  editor  were  much  more  thorough  than  could 
be  expected  in  the  case  of  an  unimportant  interlude  like  Impatient 
Poverty,  yet  the  London  texts  of  these  works  afford  excellent  examples 
of  the  kind  of  changes  which  we  should  look  for  in  a  southern  print 
of  a  northern  work.  At  the  end  of  this  Introduction  will  be  found 
brief  specimens  of  the  Scottish  and  English  versions  of  Lindsay  for 
comparison. 

The  changes  made  by  the  English  printer  in  Lindsay's  language 
are  indeed  so  great  that  if  we  had  only  his  edition  and  knew  nothing 


0)  As  in  Youth  1.  35  where  «  Maye  singe  no  masse  without  charitie  »  is  given  in 
one  text  as  «  Maie  not  l>ue  without  charitye  »,  or  in  Copland's  edition  of  Adam  Bell, 
where  instead  of  Bell  and  his  companions  going  « to  Rome  » to  seek  pardon,  as  in 
the  edition  of  1536,  they  are  made  to  go  «  to  some  bysshop  »  (Early  Pop.  Poetry 
of  Scotland,  ed.  Laing&  Hazlitt,  ii.  118). 


XII 

of  the  author,  we  should  probably  be  unable  to  do  more  than  vaguely 
guess  that  either  the  text  was  very  corrupt  or  that  it  was  originally 
written  in  another  dialect ;  but  in  the  case  of  Impatient  Poverty  there 
was  evidently  no  such  careful  revision.  Whatever  has  happened 
to  the  text  probably  happened  more  or  less  by  accident  and  the 
traces  of  revision,  though  confusing,  are  at  any  rate  not  deliberately 
concealed. 

In  the  notes  attention  is  called  to  several  points  which  seem  to 
indicate  that  the  text  originally  belonged  to  another  dialect.  The 
indications  all  point  to  a  northern  one,  but  exactly  how  far  north, 
whether  Scottish  or  merely  northern  English,  it  is  impossible  to  say. 

Among  the  points  to  be  noticed  are  the  following  : 

(a)  The  present  Participle.  Among  the  surest  signs  of  a  northern 
dialect  is  of  course  that  the  present  participle  ends  in  -and,  and 
therefore  cannot  rime  with   the  verbal   substantive,  which,  as  in 
Southern  English,  ends  in  -ing.  It  may  therefore  perhaps  be  of  some 
significance  that  in  no  case  in  this  play  where  a  verbal  substantive 
occurs  as  a  rime-word  (cf.  11.  310  (1),  382-4,  508-12,  933-4)  does  a 
participle  rime  with  it,  and  that  in  the  only  case  in  which  a  present 
participle  ends  a  line  (1.  35)  it  has  no  rime  at  all. 

(b)  The  Third  Person  Singular.  There  seem  to  be  traces  of  the 
northern  termination  -it.  Cf.  11.  80-1  «  reuenged  :  wolpit  »,  where 
«  reuengit  »  would  give  a  passable  rime,  and  11,268-9  «  vsed  :  refuse 
it  »,  where  «  vsit  »  would  rime. 

(c)  The  Plural  of  Substantives.  In  11.  1060-2  the  word  «  perers  », 
apparently  intended  for  the  plural  of  «  peer  »,  rimes  with  «  sanctus 
erys  ».  The  northern  plural  in  -is  seems  to  be  required. 

(d)  Words  or  forms  peculiarly  Scotch  or  Northern  or  apparently 
more  common  in  the  north.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned,  knawe 
(=  know),  11.  120,  215  ;  tryet  (=  tried),  135  ;  benynge  (=  benign), 
210;  warke  (-  work),  797  ;  supportacyon,  1077  ;  preclare,  1086. 

(1)  The  rime  here  is  imperfect. 


XIII 

To  these  may  be  added  certain  forms  which  seem  to  be  required 
by  the  rime,  though  they  do  not  occur  in  the  text  as  it  stands,  such 
as  treste  (---  trust),  111,  574  ;  red  (=  rid),  721  ;  ane  or  ain  (=  one), 
828  ;  wrange  (=  wrong),  951. 

Taken  together  the  evidence  seems  to  be  of  considerable  force, 
but  we  must  always  remember  that  inferences  from  rimes  are  to  be 
accepted  with  caution,  for  they  assume  that  in  the  original  the  rimes 
were  --  at  least  on  the  whole  —  good,  an  assumption  which  is 
decidedly  hazardous.  We  have  further  to  remember  that  the  English 
dialects  were,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  becoming  confused  by  the 
increase  of  traffic  between  one  part  of  the  country  and  another,  and 
owing  to  the  practical  limitation  of  printing  to  London  (1),  specimens 
of  dialect  of  that  period  in  a  form  approaching  purity  are  almost 
entirely  wanting.  A  further  difficulty  in  the  present  case  arises  from 
the  very  loose  metrical  structure  of  the  text,  which  in  many  cases 
renders  it  doubtful  whether  rime  is  intended  or  not. 

Apart  from  the  language  of  the  play  there  seem  to  be  singularly 
few  indications  of  locality.  The  mention  of  Saint  Chad  (1.  754)  might 
possibly  be  taken  as  a  minute  scrap  of  evidence  in  favour  of  a  West- 
Midland  origin,  for  Chad  was  especially  connected  with  Lichfield  in 
Staffordshire.  This,  however,  is  balanced  by  the  allusion  to  Our 
Lady  of  Wolpit  (1.  81),  who  would  presumably  be  best  known  in  the 
neighourhood  of  the  place  itself,  in  Suffolk.  The  other  saints  men 
tioned,  St  Hugh  (1.  888)  and  St  James  (1.  560),  were  well  known 
everywhere  (2).  So  too  the  mentions  of  Tyburn  (1.  501),  Newgate 
(11.  84,  716),  and  the  Marshalsea  (1.  876),  afford  us  no  help,  for  these 
places  were  know  by  name  all  over  the  country  (3). 


(1 )  We  may  neglect  the  University  presses,  as  they  did  not  print  popular  literature. 

(2)  In  any  case  I  see  no  reason  to  doubt  that  the  tendency  to  seek  out  extraordinary 
or  unusual  oaths  was  as  strong  in  earlier  times  as  it  was  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  and  is  now. 

(3)  The  Marshalsea  would  perhaps  be  less  will  known  outside  London  than  the 
others,  but  it  is  mentioned  in  the  Macro  Wisdom  1.  857  —an  East  Midland  pla>. 


XIV 

If  an  opinion  must  be  given,  I  should  say  that  it  seems  practically 
certain  that  there  is  a  northern  element  in  the  piece,  but  that  we 
cannot  with  safety  assign  it  to  any  particular  locality.  So  far  as  I  can 
see,  it  is  equally  possible  that  the  play  was  originally  Scottish  and  was 
afterwards  consciously  revised  by  a  Southerner,  or  that  it  was  a 
Northern  English  —  perhaps  even  an  East  Midland  play  —  written 
down  by  a  Londoner  without  more  change  than  a  scribe  of  another 
dialect  will  usually  make.  In  the  case  of  such  works  as  the  present, 
where,  for  anything  we  can  tell,  the  text  may  have  passed  through 
a  period  of  oral  transmission,  may  indeed  have  been  first  taken  down 
by  an  enterprising  printer  from  the  lips  of  some  wandering  player, 
possibly  made  drunk  for  the  purpose,  the  chances  of  linguistic  con 
fusion  are  of  course  endless. 

7.  The  Present  Edition. 

Save  for  the  substitution  of  roman  type  for  the  blackletter  in  which 
the  quarto  is  printed,  I  have  endeavoured  to  reproduce  the  original 
text  as  exactly  as  possible,  including  all  misprints.  The  more  impor 
tant  of  these,  but  not  minor  errors  of  punctuation,  will  be  found 
corrected  in  the  notes. 

The  margins  of  some  of  the  leaves  of  the  quarto  are  shaved  and  the 
end  or  beginning  of  the  speaker's  names  is  cut  off.  In  such  cases  a 
square  bracket  is  used.  When  a  letter  is  partly,  cut  off  I  print  it  out 
side  the  bracket  if  there  is  enough  of  it  remaining  for  one  to  be 
certain  what  letter  it  is,  and  inside  the  bracket  when  one  cannot 
be  certain.  Thus  in  1.  130  «  ]eace  »  means  that  the  margin  is  cut  off 
immediately  in  front  of  the  «  e  »,  while  in  the  case  of  «  m]paci.  »  in 
1.  132,  part  of  the  «  m  »  is  visible.  As  however  what  remains  might 
equally  well  be  part  of  an  «  n  »  I  count  the  letter  as  doubtful  and  put 
it  inside  the  bracket. 

Properly  the  square  brackets  should  of  course  be  in  a  line 
at  the  outside  edge  of  the  print ;  thus  in  11.  104,  105  the  «  P  »  of  Peace 
should  be  over  the  «  m  »  of  «  i]mpaci-  ».  On  account  however  of  the 
edges  of  the  leaves  of  the  original  not  being  cut  perfectly  straight, 


XV 

and  of  the  varying  proportion  of  the  letters  cut  off  in  different  cases, 
it  was  found  impossible  to  be  exact  in  this  respect.  Instead  therefore 
of  attempting  an  impossible  accuracy  we  have  simply  ranged  the 
names  in  a  straight  line. 

As  regards  the  notes,  I  wish  particularly  to  record  my  indebtedness 
to  Professor  Bang  for  much  help  in  investigating,  or  attempting  to 
investigate,  the  dialect  in  which  the  play  was  originally  written. 

APPENDIX. 

Specimens  of  the  English  texts  of  Lindsay  (see  p.  xi). 

There  are  several  English  prints  of  various  works  of  Lindsay,  but 
the  most  important  was  perhaps  Thomas  Purfoot's  edition  of  the 
Dialogue  between  Experience  and  a  Courtier,  first  issued  in  1566  as 
«  newly  corrected,  and  made  perfit  Englishe  ».  The  text,  as  that  of  the 
other  works  of  Lindsay  printed  in  London,  is  indeed  so  thoroughly 
anglicized  that  the  caustic  remarks  of  a  later  Scottish  printer  seem 
quite  excusable  (1). 

As  an  example  of  the  sort  of  changes  introduced  by  Purfoot  or  his 
editor  we  may  take  the  two  first  stanzas  of  what  is  called  in  Scotch 
«  Ane  exclamatioun  to  the  Redar  »  and  in  English  «  An  exhortation 
to  the  reader  »  before  the  Dialogue.  In  the  edition  said  to  be  «  Im- 
printit...  In  Copmanhouin  »  (i.  e.  Copenhagen),  but  almost  certainly 
printed  by  John  Scot  at  St  Andrews,  c.  1554,  these  stanzas  run  as 
follows  : 


(1)  The  printer  Charteris  in  the  preface  to  his  edition  of  The  Warkis  of...  SirDauid 
Lyndsay,  1592,  after  vehemently  denouncing  the  incorrectness  of  the  edition  printed 
at  Rouen  says  :  They  ar  likewise  laitlie  imprentit  in  Londoun,  with  litill  better  succes 
than  the  vther.  For  they  haue  gane  about  to  bring  them  to  the  Sutheroun  language, 
alterand  the  verse  &  cullouris  thairof  in  sic  places  as  thay  culd  admit  na  alteratioun, 
quhair  foir  the  natiue  grace,  and  first  minde  of  the  wryter  is  oftentimes  peruertit. 
And  for  the  Ortographie,  transpositiounis  and  defectiounis,  they  ar  almaist  commoun 
with  the  vther  (sig  A5). 


XVI 

Gentyl  Redar,  haif  at  me  no  dispyte 
Thynkand  y  I  presumptuously  pretend 
In  vulgair  tong,  so  heych  mater  to  writ 
Bot  quhair  I  mys,  I  pray  y  till  amed 
Tyll  vnlernit,  I  wald  the  cause  wer  kend 
Off  our  most  miserabyll  trauell  and  torment 
And  quhow  in  erth,  no  place  bene  parmanent 

Quhowbeit  that  diuers  deuote  cunnyng  Clerkis 
In  Latyne  toung  hes  wryttin  syndrie  bukis 
Our  vnlernit  knawis  lytill  of  thare  werkis 
More  than  thay  do  the  rauyng  of  the  Rukis 
Quharefore  to  Colzearis  (2),  Cairtaris,  &  to  Cukis 
To  lok  and  Thome,  my  Ryme  sail  be  diractit 
With  cunyg  men,  quhowbeit  it  wylbe  lactit 

(sig.  C4V) 

Purfoot's  edition  of  1566  makes,  as  may  be  seen,  considerable 
changes.  There  we  read  : 

Gentill  reader  haue  no  despite, 

Thinking  that  I  presuptuously  intend 

In  vulgar  tong  so  hie  matter  to  write, 

But  where  I  mis,  amend  it  right  sone .: 

To  the  vnlerned  I  wold  y  cause  were  knowen, 

Of  our  miserable  trauell  and  torment, 

And  how  in  earth  no  place  is  permanent. 

How  be  it  that  diuers  deuout  cunning  clarkes, 
In  latine  tong  haue  written  diuers  bokes. 
The  vnlearned  knowes  littell  of  their  warkes  : 
More  then  they  do  the  rauing  of  the  rokes, 


(2)  The  «  2  » in  these  extracts  stands  for  the  character  pronounced  as  y  at  the 
beginning  of  a  word  or  a  guttural  when  occuring  medially. 


XVII 

Wherefore  to  Colliers,  Carters  and  cokes, 
To  lack  and  Tom  my  rime  shall  be  directed  : 
With  cunning  men,  I  know  it  will  be  liked. 

(sig.  A8V) 

Here  we  may  particularly  note  in  line  2  the  substitution  of 
«  intend  »  for  «  pretend  »  ;  in  11.  4-5,  the  alteration  of  the  rime  to 
avoid  the  Scottish  word  «  kend  »  ;  and  in  the  last  line  the  complete 
reversal  of  the  meaning  owing  to  the  English  corrector  not  having 
seen  that  «  lactit  »  stands  for  «  lackit  »,  i.  e.  found  fault  with,  and 
that  the  line  means  «  Although  it  will  be  blamed  by  the  learned  ». 

A  passage  in  a  different  metre  may  be  given  from  the  first  book  of 
the  Dialogue  itself.  As  a  fair  sample  of  the  average  amount  of 
alteration  made  by  the  London  printer  I  take  part  of  the  account  of 
the  temptation  of  Eve.  As  before,  I  quote  first  from  the  «  Copman- 
houin  »  edition.  The  serpent  is  speaking  : 

C  Quhat  is  the  cause,  Madame  (said  he) 
That  ze  forbeir,  zone  plesand  tre 
Quhilk  bene  but  peir  most  pretious 
Quhose  fruct  bene  moste  delytious 
I  Nyll  (quod  sche)  thare  to  accord 
We  ar  forbyddin,  be  the  Lord 
The  quhilk  hes  geuin  ws  lybertie 
Tyll  eait  of  euery  fruct  and  tre 
Quhilk  growis  in  to  Paradyse 
Brek  we  command,  we  ar  nocht  wyse 
He  gaue  tyll  ws  ane  strait  command 
That  tre  to  twyche,  nocht  with  our  hand 
Eit  we  of  it,  without  remede 
He  said  but  dout,  we  sulde  be  dede 
Beleue  nocht  that  (said  the  Serpent) 
Eit  ze  of  it,  Incontinent 
Repleit  ze  sail  be  with  Science 


XVIII 


And  haif  perfyte  Intelligence 

Lyke  God  hym  self,  of  euyll  and  gude 

Than  haistellye  for  to  conclude 

Heiryng  of  this  prerogatyue 

Sche  pullit  doun  the  fruct  belyue 

Throw  counsall  of  the  fals  Serpent 

And  eit  of  it,  to  that  intent 

And  patt  hir  Husband  in  beleue 

That  plesand  fruct,  gyf  he  wald  preue 

That  he  suld  be  als  Sapient 

As  the  gret  God  Omnipotent 

Thynk  ze  nocht  that  ane  plesand  thyng 

That  we  lyke  God,  suld  euer  ryng 

He  herand  this  Narratioun 

And  be  hir  solistatioun 

Mouit  be  prydefull  ambitioun 

He  eit  on  that  conditioun 

(sig.  D3-3V) 

In  Purfoot's  edition  the  passage  runs  as  follows  : 

What  is  the  cause  Madam  (quod)  he, 
That  ye  forbeare  this  pleasant  tre. 
which  is  without  hurte  most  precious, 
whose  fruite  is  moste  delicious. 
I  will  not  (quod  she)  thereto  accord, 
we  are  forbydden  by  the  Lorde. 
The  which  hath  geuen  vs  libertie, 
to  eate  of  every  fruite  and  tre, 
Which  groweth  within  Paradise, 
If  we  breake  it  we  are  not  wise, 
the  Lorde  did  vs  straightly  commaunde, 
that  tree  to  touch  not  with  our  hande 
Eate  we  of  it  without  remedye, 


XIX 

He  sayde  without  dout  ye  shall  dye, 
Beleue  not  that  sayde  the  Serpent. 
Eate  ye  of  it  incontinent, 
Replete  ye  shall  be  with  science, 
And  haue  perfect  intelligence, 
Lyke  God  himselfe  of  euill  &  good, 
Then  hastely  for  to  conclude, 
Hearing  of  this  prerogatiue, 
She  pulled  downe  the  fruite  beliue, 
Thorow  counsell  of  the  false  Serpent, 
And  eat  of  it  to  that  intent, 
And  put  her  husband  in  beleue, 
The  pleasant  fruite  if  he  wolde  preue, 
That  he  shoulde  be  as  sapient, 
As  the  great  god  omnipotent  : 
Is  it  not  pleasant  thinke  ye  plaine? 
That  we  like  god  shoulde  euer  raigne, 
He  hearing  this  narration, 
And  by  her  solistation. 
Moued  by  his  proud  ambition, 
He  eate  on  that  condition, 

(sig.  B7-7V) 

The  most  noticeable  thing  in  this  second  extract  is  perhaps  the 
strange  error  which  turned  «  but  peir  »,  i.e.  peerless,  in  the  third 
line  into  «  without  hurte  ».  Towards  the  end  we  have  a  change  of 
rimes  necessitated  by  the  Scottish  word  «  ryng  »,  i.e.  reign,  a  rime- 
word  of  common  occurence  in  Lindsay  and  always  troublesome  to 
the  reviser.  It  may  be  remarked  that  punctuation  is  practically  absent 
from  the  Scottish  text  and  in  the  English  one  is  extremely  bad. 


J 


3 

tcrluar  oflmuicptnte  poirerte 


fcaopunSatmee  anb  mpfmle  to; 
1  another  man, 


9(mpaci'cnte  poticrtr,  ^.lof 


[31 

C  Peace  begynneth, 

THe  puisaut  prynce  and  innocent  most  pure 
whych  humbly  descended  fro  the  sete  sepiternal 
Illumyne  hys  beames  of  grace  to  euery  creature 
5  To  wythstand  the  conflicte  of  our  enemyes  mortall 
The  deuyll,  the  world,  &  the  fleshe,  these  .iii.  in  specyal 
whych  setteth  dyuision  betwene  the  soule  &  the  body 
In  like  wise  enuy  setteth  debate  betwene  party  &  par 
I  speake  for  this  cause,  dayly  ye  may  se  (tye 

10  Howe  that  by  enuy  and  malyce,  many  be  destroyed 
which  yf  they  had  lyued  in  peace  w  pacyent  humilite 
Ryches  and  prosperite  with  them  had  ben  employed 
For  there  as  is  peace,  no  man  is  annoyed 
For  by  peace  men  growe  to  great  rychesse 
15  And  by  peace  men  lyue  in  greate  quyetnesse 

I  am  named  peace  whych  enuye  doeth  expel 
Enuy  wyth  me  shall  neuer  rest 
For  enuye  is  one  of  the  paynes  of  hell 
when  that  he  soiourneth  within  a  mans  brest 
20  Lyke  the  burnynge  Fenix  in  her  owne  nest 
Though  she  can  none  other  hurte  ne  greue 
yet  she  doth  not  cease  her  selfe  to  myscheue 

A  syr  here  was  a  longe  predication  Enuye[ 

Me  though  ye  sayd  in  your  commnnicatyon 
25  To  euery  man  peace  was  most  behoued. 
Forsoth  and  so  sayde  I. 
That  shalbe  proued  contrarye  by  and  by 
For  by  peace  moche  people  are  vndone 

What  people  are  tho. 

30        The  armurer,  the  fletcher,  and  the  bowyer  Enuye[ 

Maryners,  gonners,  and  the  poore  sowdyer 
yea  and  also  many  an  other  artyfycer 
which  I  do  not  reherse  by  name 


[4] 

P]eace.  I  say  the  vnyuersall  people  doth  best  obtayne 

35  Where  as  peace  is  euer  abydynge 
EJnuye.  Thou  lyest  so  god  me  helpe  and  haly  dome 

For  then  were  surgyons  cleane  vndone 

Of  them  that  wyll  fyght  and  breake  apate 

They  gete  good  lyuynge  both  erly  and  late 
40  And  what  sayest  thou  by  men  of  lawe 

Theyr  lyuyng  were  not  worth  a  strawe 

And  euery  man  shulde  lyue  in  peace. 
Pjeace.  That  is  not  for  the  commons  encrease 

For  by  peace  they  profyte  in  many  a  thynge 
45  Peace  setteth  amyte  betwene  kynge  and  kynge 

In  tyme  of  peace  marchauntes  haue  theyr  course 

To  passe  and  repasse 
E]nuye.  Thou  lyest  knaue  by  the  masse  (wroughte 

For  vnder  colour  of  peace  moch  suttelte  hathe  bene 
50  And  shyps  are  taken  y  marchautes  dere    haue   boughte 

was  that  for  theyr  promocyon 

Nay  in  tyme  of  war 

Suche  a  knaue  durst  not  stere 

By  y  masse  were  it  not  for  shame  thou  shuls  bere  me 
P]eace.  55        Holde  thy  handes  thou  lewde  felow  (a  blow 

Thou  arte  of  euyl  dysposicyon 

Thus  agaynst  peace  to  repugne 

The  whyche  from  heauen  descended  downe 

To  bryngd  man  out  of  captiuite 
E]nuye.60        A  horson  why  doest  thou  lye 

when  were  thou  in  heauen  tell  me  by  and  by 

How  earnest  thou  downe  with  a  ladder  or  a  rope 
]eace.  It  were  no  synne  to  hange  the  by  throte 

Thy  wordes  be  enuyous,  not  grounded  on  charyte, 
]nuye.   65        Syr  one  thynge  I  praye  you  tell  me. 
]eace.  What  is  that 


[51 

Haue  ye  any  wyfe  or  no  Enuy[e 

Wherfore  aske  ye  so  Peace[ 

Bycause  ye  saye  peace  is  moste  expedyent  Enuy[e 

70  yf  your  wife  made  you  cuckolde  you  beyng  present 
what  wolde  ye  do 

Geue  her  soche  punisshement  as  longeth  thereto         Peace[ 
A  false  flatterynge  horson  loo  Enuy[e 

Nowe  thou  sayest  agaynst  thyne  owne  declaracyon 
75  yf  thou  fyght  where  is  then  peace  become. 

1  breake  not  peace  with  doynge  due  correctyon  Peace[ 

For  correctyon  shuld  be  done  charitably 
Irascemini  et  nolite  peccare 

I  shall  mete  that  at  omnium  quare  Enuy[ 

80  Peace  shuld  forgeue,  and  not  be  reuenged 
Hens  horson  by  our  lady  of  wolpit 
I  shall  rappe  the  of  the  pate 

Go  hence  wretche,  thou  make  bate  Peace[ 

It  were  almes  to  set  the  in  newgate 
85  Howe  mayster  constable  come  nere 
Here  is  a  wretche  wythout  reason 
Take  and  put  hym  in  pryson 
with  as  many  yrons  as  he  may  beare 

By  our  lady  I  wyll  come  no  nere  Enuy[ 

90  A  constable,  quod  ha,  nay  that  wyll  I  not  abyde 
For  I  am  lothe  to  go  shorter  tyde 
yet  longe  horson  for  al  thy  pryde 
I  shall  mete  wyth  the  another  daye 
when  one  of  vs  two  shall  goo  a  knaue  awaye 
95        0  thou  wretche  thou  ought  to  remorde  Peac[e 

That  so  farre  arte  exiled  from  charyte 
Lo  he  thynketh  not,  how  mekely  his  maker  &  Lorde 
Suffered  reprefe  and  dyed  vpon  a  tre 
Geuynge  vs  example  that  wythe  humyly 


[6] 

100  Eueriman  shulde  folowe  his  trace 
That  in  heauen  wyl  clayme  a  place 

Impacyient  pouerte. 
Kepe  kepe  for  coxs  face. 

Peace.  why  arte  thou  so  out  of  pacyence 

i]mpaci-i05        A  knaue  wolde  haue  rested  me  I  owe  him  but  .xl. 
ent  po.         He  shall  abyde  by  goddes  dere  blest.  (pens 

Peace.  Take  hede  my  frende  thus  sayth  the  texte 

In  lyttle  medlynge  standeth  great  rest 
Therfore  paye  thy  duetye  well  and  honestly 
11 0  with  fewe  wordes  dyscretelye 

Another  tyme  ye  shall  be  the  better  truste 

]mpaci-  That  wil  I  neuer  do  while  I  hue  let  him  do  his  best 

]nt  po.          I  had  leuer  laye  all  my  good  to  pledge 

To  gete  a  wryte  of  pryueledge 
1 15  So  may  I  go  by  his  nose  at  large 

Spyte  of  hys  tethe  who  so  euer  saye  naye 

P]eace.  This  is  but  a  wilful  mynde,  yf  thou  wilt  not  paye 

They  very  duety,  whych  can  not  be  denayde 
Getynge  of  thy  wryte  and  expence  in  the  lawe 
120  wyl  cost  more  then  thy  duety,  thys  wyll  I  knawe 
Thy  dette  therwith  can  not  be  payde 
It  is  onely  a  deferringe  of  the  paymente. 
mjpaci.  yet  the  knawe  shall  not  haue  hys  entent. 

Peace.  Thou  shalt  paye  by  ryghtfull  iudgement 

125  For  the  lawe  is  indifferent  to  euery  person 
m]paci-  I  se  thou  holdest  on  his  opynion 

n]t  po.         Yet  I  set  not  by  you  both  a  rysshe 

And  I  mete  the  knawe  I  shal  hewe  his  fleshe 
Helpe  hym  thou  olde  chorle  and  thou  can 
]eace.     130        I  se  thou  arte  an  euyl  dysposed  man. 

I  vtterly  forsake  thy  condycyon 
m]paci.  Mary  auaunt  longe  precyous  horson 


[7] 

1  set  not  by  the  nor  him,  I  make  God  auowe 
I  am  as  good  a  man,  as  thou  for  all  thy  good 
135  Let  it  be  tryet  by  mahode,  and  thertho  I  geue  the  my 

Al  soch  warryours  I  do  reproue  (gloue  Peace. 

For  peace  loueth  not  to  fyght 

No  olde  foole,  thou  hast  loste  thy  myghte  impaci- 

For  in  age  is  noughte  els  but  cowardyse  ent  po. 

140        Youth  wyth  hys  courage  lyghte  Peace. 

Nor  strenght  wyth  multitude  I  do  the  plyght 
Are  not  onely  the  cause  of  victory 

No  good  syr,  what  then.  impaci. 

Grace  and  good  goueruaunce  of  man  Peace. 

145  For  wyth  good  discretion  thei  began. 
That  were  the  greate  winners  of  victory 

Then  victory  is  gotten  by  dyscretion  impaci- 

1  praye  your  syr  shewe  me  th'ys  lesson  tnt  po. 

Howe  to  come  to  rychesse,  for  that  is  all  my  care 
150  For  I  am  euer  in  greate  necessyte 
Meate  and  drinke  with  me  is  scarsite 
No  man  will  truste  me  of  a  peny 
And  also  my  clothes  are  but  bare 
Good  syr  what  saye  you  therin 

155        I  holde  it  punisshmente  for  thi  sinne  Peace. 

Shewe  me  what  is  thy  name 

I  am  named  Impacyente  pouerte  impaci. 

Forsoth  that  maye  full  well  be  Peace. 

Thou  arte  so  full  of  wrath  and  enuye 
160  In  the  can  growe  no  grace 

But  yf  thou  wylte  forsake  sensualyte 

And  be  gouerned  by  reason  as  I  shall  enduce  the 

Thou  shalte  come  to  rychesse,  wythin  shorte  space 

Shewe  me  that  nowe  in  thys  place  impacil 

165  And  therto  I  wyll  agree 


[8] 

Pjeace.  Thou  muste  loue  thy  neyghboure  wyth  charyte 

Do  vnto  hym,  no  maner  of  dysease 

Loke  how  thou  wolde  he  dyd  to  the 

Do  to  hym  no  worse  in  no  degree 
170  And  then  thou  shalt  oure  lorde  please. 
m]paci-  Shall  I  loue  hym  that  loueth  not  me  ? 

]nt  po.        Those  that  trouble  and  rebuke  me  shamefully 

That  wyll  I  neuer  do  whyle  I  lyue 
Pjeace.  Thou  must  charitably  al  fautes  forgeue 

175  What  soeuer  any  man  to  the  saye 

Let  as  thou  harde  it  not,  turne  thyne  eare  awaye 

Thou  shalte  please  god,  yf  thou  so  do, 

]mpaci-  Naye  by  g°od  there  ho° 

]nt  po         What  is  he  in  all  thys  place 

180  That  wyll  do  as  thys  man  sayde 

Shewe  me  or  I  go        , 

yf  a  man  do  you  a  greate  offence 

Wyll  ye  kepe  your  pacyence 

Naye  by  god  not  so 
185  I  put  case  I  breake  your  heed 

wyll  ye  suffre  that  in  verye  dede. 

P]eace.  To  suffer  for  Christes  sake  I  shall  hauc  mede 

m]paci.  That  shal  I  knowe  by  Goddes  brede. 

P]eace.  Holde  thy  hande  and  kepe  pacyence 

190  Thynke  what  Chryste  suffered  for  oure  offence 

He  was  beaten,  scourged,  &  spytte  on  wyth  vyolence 

And  suffered  death  for  our  sake 

yet  he  toke  it  pacyentlye 

He  forgaue  hys  death,  and  prayed  for  his  enemyes 
195  Pater  dimitie  illis,  hys  sayinge  was  truelye 

An  example  for  vs  to  take 

To  be  meke  in  harte  :  beaty  pauperes  spiritu 

Shal  Chryste  saye  full  euen 


[9] 

Et  venite  benediciti  come  my  blessed  chyldren 
200  To  the  kyngdom  of  heauen. 

Syr  I  thanke  you,  for  your  ghostly  instruction  impac[i 

Vnto  your  saying,  I  can  make  no  delayaunce  ent  po[ 

I  putte  me  vnder  youre  gouernacion 

And  for  mysdedes,  I  take  greate  repentaunce 
205        Then  to  my  sainge,  take  good  remembraunce  Peace. 

Exercyse  youre  selfe  in  vertue,  from  this  tyme  hence 

And  vnto  peace  euermore  be  obediente 

Set  before  euery  sharpe  worde,  a  shylde  of  suffraunce 

And  when  tyme  is  of  youre  concupissaunce 
210  Then  pacific  it  with  benynge  resystaunce 

Syr  gramercy,  y  ye  haue  brought  me  to  thys  estate  impac[ 

By  your  aduertismet  I  am  wyillg  to  lyue  in  chrystes  ent  p[o 

Ther  as  I  haue  offended  him  both  erly  &  late         (law 

I  serued  hym  not  for  loue  nor  for  awe 
215  Therfore  nowe  ryghte  well  I  knowe 

That  pouerte  and  miserye  that  I  my  lyfe  in  lede 

It  is  but  onely  punishemente  for  my  mysdede 

Nowe  or  we  any  further  precede  Peace[ 

Holde  thys  vesture  and  put  it  on  the 
220  From  hence  forth  thou  shalte  be  called  prosperite 

I  thancke  God  and  you,  I  am  in  felicite  Prosp[e 

Nowe  vnto  you  I  shall  here  shewe  Peace[. 

Of  soche  thynges  as  ye  shall  eschewe 

Fyrste  youre  soule  loke  that  ye  kepe  cleane 
225  Beware  of  mysrule  in  any  wyse 

Playe  not  at  caylles,  cardes  nor  dyse 

Also  from  miswomen,  for  by  them  mischefe  may  ryse 

As  it  doeth  often,  this  daylye  is  sene 

Haunte  no  tauernes,  nor  sytte  not  vp  late 
230  Let  not  hassarde  nor  riotour,  w  you  be  checke  mate 

For  then  wyll  enuy  come,  and  make  debate 

B  .i. 


[10] 

The  whiche  shall  cause  greate  trouble 

Be  plentifull  of  soch  as  god  hath  sent 

Vnto  the  poore  people,  geue  wyth  good  intente 
235  For  euerye  peny  that  so  is  spente 

God  wyll  sende  the  double. 

Take  hede  and  do  as  I  haue  sayde 
Prospe  Syr  therwith  I  holde  me  well  apayed 

As  ye  haue  commaunded  me  it  shall  be  done 
peace    240        Then  let  vs  departe  for  a  season 

yf  ye  nede  1  wyll  be  your  protection.  Exiut  ambo 

Habou  I°ye  anc*  s°lace  be  in  tms  haft 

Is  there  no  man  here,  that  knoweth  me  at  al 

I  am  beloued  both  wyth  greate  and  small 
245  Haboundaunce  is  my  name 

I  haue  all  thynges  as  me  lyst 

Meate  dryncke,  and  clothe  of  the  best 

Golde  and  syluer  full  is  euery  chest 

In  fayth  I  wyll  not  layne 
250  I  thynke  ye  knowe  not  my  wayes 

Howe  I  gette  goodes  nowe  a  dayes 

By  a  propre  meane 

Thynke  you  that  I  wolde 

Lende  eyther  syluer  or  golde 
255  That  daye  shall  not  bee  sene 

But  I  wyll  lende  them  ware 

That  shall  be  bothe  badde  and  deare 

Not  worthe  the  monye  he  shall  paye 

And  yf  he  can  no  suerte  gette 
260  Of  my  ware  he  getteth  ryghte  nought 

Wythout  a  good  pledge  he  laye 

Then  wyll  I  for  myne  auayle 

He  shall  make  a  byll  of  sayle 

To  me  full  bought  and  solde 


[ft] 

265  Yf  the  daye  be  expyred  and  paste 

Then  wyll  I  holde  it  faste 

He  shall  not  haue  it  thought  he  woulde 

Thus  crafte  I  haue  longe  vsed 

And  some  men  do  not  yet  refuse  it 
270  This  is  he  openlye  knowne 

what  is  he  in  all  thys  towne 

That  wyll  lende  wythout  synguler  commodum 

Shoulde  I  lende  wythoute  a  profite 

Naye  then  I  holde  noughte  worthe  my  wytte. 
275        All  this  ye  saye,  is  agaynste  conscience  Consc[i 

Conscience  quod  a,  naye  the  shall  we  neuer  thryue  Habo[u 

For  I  knowe  hym  not  a  lyue 

By  conscience  that  commeth  to  substaunce 

I  haue  all  maner  of  marchandy 
280  I  sell  for  longe  dayes  to  theym  that  are  nedy 

And  for  the  paymente  I  haue  good  suertye 

Bounde  in  statute  marchaunte 

Bycause  I  maye  forbeare 

I  sell  my  ware  so  deare 
285  I  make  .xl.  of  .xx.  in  hafle  a  yeare 

Other  men  do  so  as  well  as  I. 

-  £  Consc[i 

Euen  synne,  very  shame  marye  fye 

these  goodes  are  gotten  vntrewelye 

Many  a  man  is  vndone  thereby 
290  To  take  thys  ware  so  deare 

They  seke  to  me  bothe  farre  and  neare 

Me  thincke  it  is  a  good  dede 

To  helpe  a  man  at  hys  nede 

Yet  haue  I  other  meanes 
295  whereby  I  gette  great  gaynes 

I  thyncke  ye  knowe  not  that. 

I,  no  God  wote  Consci[ 


[12] 

]abou.  No  ye  are  but  an  ydyote 

I  solde  a  man  as  moche  ware,  as  came  to  .xl.  pound 
300  And  in  an  oblygacyon,  I  hadde  hym  bounde 
To  paye  me  at  a  certayne  daye 
And  when  the  bargayne  was  made  playne 
Myne  owne  seruaunt,  bought  the  same  ware  agayn 
For  the  thyrde  penny  it  coste,  ye  wote  what  I  meane 
t  305  But  was  not  thys  a  wyse  waye  ? 

Thou  shalte  repente  it  another  daye 
I  charge  the  as'farre  as  I  maye 

Soche  false  wayes  neuer  begynne 
HJabou.  .... 

Wherfore  this  is  no  synne 

310  It  is  playne  byenge  and  sellynge 
Lawfull  it  is  for  a  man  to  wynne 
Els  ryche  shall  he  neuer  be. 
Clonsci  Wynnynge  to  be  hadde,  with  due  sufficyence 

In  true  byenge  and  sellynge,  is  not  to  dyscomende 
315  But  for  thi  false  vsury  th,ou  art  cursed  in  the  sentece 

I  praye  God  geue  the  grace  for  to  amende. 
Hi  u  ~  Is  euery  man  accursed,  that  doeth  bye  and  sell 

Then  shall  no  man  wyth  marchaundyse  mell 
Howe  shall  the  worlde  then  be  vpholde 
P,        .  320        Naye  syr,  amysse  ye  do  vnderstande  me 
All  those  that  occupye  false  vsurye 
And  transgresseth  the  lawes  of  God  by  iniquitie 
All  soche  are  accursed  I  you  tolde 
As  for  byenge  and  sellynge,  nedes  must  be 
325  And  God  comaundeth  to  lende  to  them  that  are  nedy 
So  it  be  not  to  theyr  iniurye 
For  luker  to  theym  solde. 

H]abou.  Howe  shoulde  I  sel,  shewe  me  youre  wayes 

Jonsci.  ye  maye  not  sell  the  dearer  for  dayes 

330  yf  ye  doo,  it  is  contrarye  to  Goddes  lawes 


[131 

It  is  vsed  in  oure  Countrye  Hab[o 

It  is  the  more  pytye  Cons[ 

One  soche  is  able  to  destroye  a  Cytye 

And  God  shewe  not  hys  greate  mercye 
335  All  soche  are  dampned  by  hys  equite 

God  forfende  that  shoulde  be  Habo[ 

Howe  shall  men  doo  that  be  of  greate  reputacyon 

Whyche  kepte  theyr  goodes  on  this  same  fashyon 

By  vsury,  dysceypte,  and  by  extorcyon 

340  I  doo  so  my  selfe,  wherfore  shoulde  I  lye 

T,.  Consc[ 

Thou  mayste  be  the  more  sorye 

Habo[u 
It  is  so  nowe,  what  remedye 

Doo  make  restytucyon 

Habo[u 
What  call  ye  restytucyon 

345        Restore  soche  goodes  as  ye  haue  gotten 
wrongefully  by  oppressyon 

Then  shall  I  haue  lyttle  in  my  possessyon 
I  wyll  make  God  amendes,  another  waye 
I  wyll  faste,  and  I  wyll  praye 
350  And  I  wyl  gcue  almes  euery  daye 

That  I  haue  done  amysse,  I  am  sory  therfore 

This  is  not  suffycyente,  thou  muste  restore 
Quia  non  dimittitur  peccatum 
Nisi  restituatur  ablatum 
355  ye  muste  restore  to  theym,  ye  haue  offended  vnto 

Then  I  shall  shewe  you  what  I  shall  doo  Habou[ 

I  wyll  putte  it  in  my  Testamente 
That  myne  executours  shall  paye  and  contente 
For  whyle  I  lyue,  I  wyll  not  haue  my  good  spente 
360  For  yf  I  do  I  am  but  spylte 

Mke  amendes  man  for  thy  gylte  Consci[. 

Rather  spyll  thy  bodye,  then  spyll  thy  soule 

Men  of  substaunce  are  ashamed  to  fall  Habou. 


C]onsci.  That  causeth  them  to  rest  in  theyr  synne 

H]abou.365        Yet  euer  with  thy  strongest  part  renneth  the  ball 
C]onsci.  Yesterdaye  thou  canst  not  agayne  call 

When  y  art  dead  y  gate  of  mercy  is  shut  y  can  not  co- 
Hjabou.  Then  let  hym  stande  wythout  (me  in 

C]onsci.  So  of  thy  soule  thou  haste  no  doute 

H]abou.370        When  thou  seest  my  soule  tome  set  on  a  cloute 
yf  falshode,  vsury,  and  extorcyon  shoulde  not  route 
Thousandes  in  thys  realme  shoulde  be  put  out 
The  thyrde  parte  shoulde  not  byde  by  saynt  Paule 
CJonsci.  Yet  often  falshode  hath  a  greate  fall 

375  An  example  by  kynge  Achab  whych  is  sothe 

Desyred  the  vyneyarde  of  that  poore  man  Nabothe 
By  counsell  of  lezabell  that  Kynges  wyfe 
Bycause  he  wolde  not  sell  hys  possessyon 
Of  two  false  witnesses  he  was  peached  of  hye  trason 
380  And  through  the  mouth  of  a  false  quest  it  raue 

which  caused  the  poore  man  to  lese  both  land  &  lyfe 
After  that  of  goddes  owne  byddinge 
Came  Helias  the  prophet  to  Achab  the  kynge 
Sayinge  he  shoulde  haue  euyll  endynge 
385  And  so  he  had,  for  by  the  waye  as  he  rode 

He  fel  &  brake  his  neck,  wher  dogs  lapped  his  blode 
thys  exaple  to  al  vsurers  &  oppressours  as  thlketh  me 
Shuld  cause  the  of  god  sore  a  dred  to  be.          (cotrary 
H]abou.  Syr  ye  preache  very  holily,  but  our  dedes  be  often 

390  ye  be  so  acquaynted  wyth  couetouse  and  symony 

That  maketh  vs  to  take  the  same  waye 
Consci.  So  euery  euyll  dysposed  person  doeth  saye 

The  fraylte  of  man  doeth  often  offende 
Then  call  for  grace,  and  shortely  amende 
395  Therfore  I  counsell  the  to  pretende 

To  repente  and  be  sorye  for  thy  mysdede 


[15] 

Yet  thus  I  wyll  my  lyfe  lede  Habo[u 

For  of  your  sayinge  I  take  no  hede 
ye  wyll  mucker  vp  bothe  golde  and  treasure 
400  ye  haue  ryches  wythout  measure 

And  of  the  flesshe  ye  haue  youre  pleasure 
ye  ca  fynde  no  wayes  to  amend  your  self  1  you  insure 
Therfore  rebuke  not  me  for  my  synne  ne  good 
God  be  wyth  you,  ye  shall  not  rule  me 

405        Odulle  wyte  plunged  by  ygnoraunce  Consc[i 

Regardynge  nothynge  of  ghostly  instructyon 
Settynge  more  hys  minde  on  worldly  substaunce 
Then  on  the  euerlastynge  lyfe  that  is  to  come 
God  wyl  stryke  when  he  lyst,  ye  know  not  how  sone 
410  Therefore  to  euery  man  thys  counsell  I  geue 

To  be  sory  for  your  sine,  &  do  penauce  while  ye  lyue 
C  Here  cometh  enuye  runnynge  in 
Laughyng,  &  sayth  to  conscyence. 

Nowe  in  fayte  I  wolde  ye  had  be  there  Enuye[ 

415        Where  shuldc  I  haue  be.  Consci[ 

A  better  sporte  ye  neuer  se.  Enuye[ 

Whereat  laughe  ye  so  faste  Consci[ 

He  to  go  and  she  after.  Enuye[. 

And  wythin  a  while  he  caughte  her 
420  He  toke  of  her  an  incroke 

And  chopte  her  on  the  hele  wyth  hys  fote 
Anone  he  whypte  her  on  the  backe 
A  horsone  quod  she,  playest  thou  me  that 
And  with  her  hele  she  gaue  hym  a  spat 
425  That  he  was  fayne  to  go  backe  agayne 

Good  felowe  thou  arte  to  blame  Consci. 

Soche  wordes  to  haue,  no  good  thou  can. 

I  sayde  it  to  make  you  sporte  and  game  Enuye. 

I  crye  you  mercye,  I  was  to  blame 


[16] 

430  I  se  ye  are  some  vertuous  man 
Consci.  Shortely  hence  that  waye  thou  came 

For  here  thou  shalte  not  be 
Enuye.  Good  Lorde  some  succour  thou  sende  me 

That  I  be  not  oute  caste 

Consci. 435        What  is  thy  name,  shortely  shewe  me 
Enuye.  I  dare  not  syr,  By  Christe  lesu 

Excepte  ye  kepe  it  preuelye 
Consci.  Feare  not  saye  on  hardelye 

Enuye.  Syr,  my  ryghte  name  is  charitie 

440  Sometyme  beloued  I  was  wyth  the  spyritualtye 

But  now  coueteouse  &  symony  doeth  them  so  auauce 

That  good  institutyon  is  turned  to  other  ordynaunce 

And  bonum  exemplum  is  put  to  suche  hynderaunce 

That  here  I  dare  not  apeare 
Consci. 445        Symony  is  not  nowe  in  the  spyritualtie 

Bonus  pastor  ouium,  therto  wyll  see 

Therfore  me  thyncke  thys  is  a  lye 

In  holy  Church  symony  can  not  abyde 
Enuye.  He  goeth  in  a  clocke,  he  can  not  be  espyde 

450  And  coueteouse  so  craftely  doeth  prouyde 

That  bonus  pastor  ouium,  is  blynde  and  wyl  not  see 
Consci.  Thys  that  ye  speake  is  vppon  enuy 

Therfore  I  thincke  ye  be  not  charytye 

For  charytie  alwaye  wyll  saye  the  beste 
Enuye.  455  Amonges  theym  can  I  haue  no  reste 
Consci.  Howe  do  ye  wyth  the  themporaltye 

Enuye.  There  is  pryde,  slewth  and  lechery 

whych  putteth  me  from  that  place 
Consci.  Then  be  ye  wyth  the  communaltye 

Enuye.  460        They  despyse  me  vtterlye 

One  of  theym  loue  not  another 

the  syster  can  not  loue  the  brother 


[17] 

Ne  the  chylde  the  father  ne  mother 
There  I  dare  not  shewe  my  face. 

465        This  is  to   me  a  straunge  case 

Consci. 
What  heare  ye  by  conscyence. 

Spiritual  &  teporal  set  agaynst  him  maruailously  Enuye. 
Marchautes,  men  of  law,  &  artificers  of  euery  degre 
They  wyl  hange  hym  and  they  hym  espye 
470  Soch  exclamacib  goeth  through  this  realme  round 

Why  what  faute  haue  they  founde  Consci 

wyth  hym  so  to  do 

Hys  wytte  is  noughte,  they  saye  also  Enuye 

Euerye  man  putteth  hys  wyll  thereto 
475  To  banyshe  hym  for  euer. 

I  knowe  well  it  is  not  as  ye  saye  Consci 

For  I  am  conscyence  the  hye  Judge  of  the  lawe 

Be  ye  conscience,  alas  that  euer  I  thys  day  sawe  E 
yf  ye  be  taken,  ye  shalbe  hanged  and  drawe 
480  For  they  haue  vtterly  put  you  downe 
And  set  couetyse  in  youre  rowme 
Subtylte  the  scrybe  hys  owne  cosyn 
And  falsshed  the  somner  for  the  courtes  promocyon. 

I  maruayle  wherfore  thys  was  done  P 

485        When  ryches  came  before  you  that  moch  wyl  paye 
There  he  had  lyued  in  synne  many  a  daye 
Ye  shulde  for  money  lette  hym  go  quite  awaye 
And  put  hym  to  no  shame 
Let  pouerte  do  penaunce  for  a  lyttle  offence 
490  He  is  not  able  to  promote  you  of  .xx.  pence 
Then  shulde  ye  haue  kepte  your  resydence 
And  gotten  your  selfe  a  good  name. 

Who  so  doeth  they  are  to  blame 

Consci. 
In  mysorderynge  them  in  soche  wyse 

495  ywys  cosyn  I  shewe  you  as  nowe  is  the  guyse 

C.  i. 


[18] 

For  by  couetyse  moche  people  doeth  vp  ryse 

whych  is  agaynst  both  you  and  me 
Consci.  Charyte  I  praye  you  shewe  what  remedye 

In  thys  matter  for  me  may  be  founde 
Enuye.  500  Shortely  get  you  to  wyldernes,  or  some  other  regyo 

For  they  wyll  hange  you  vp  at  the  Tyborne 

yf  they  fynde  you  in  thys  place 

And  I  muste  departe  also 

Consci.  Thys  is  to  me  moche  sorowe  and  woo 

505  I  wyll  go  into  some  farre  countre 

Farwell  gentyll  cosyn  charyte 
Enuye.  I  shall  praye  for  you,  praye  ye  for  me. 

Thys  is  an  heauy  departynge  Et  plora 

I  can  in  no  wyse  forbeare  wepynge 
510  Yet  kysse  me  or  ye  go 

For  sorowe  my  harte  wyll  breke  in  two. 

Is  he  gone,  then  haue  at  laughynge 

A  syr  is  not  thys  a  ioly  game 

That  conscience  doeth  not  knowe  my  name 
515  Enuy  in  fayth  I  am  the  same 

what  nedeth  me  for  to  lye 

1  hate  conscience,  peace  loue  and  reste 

Debate  and  stryfe  that  loue  I  beste 

Accordyng  to  my  properte 
520  when  a  man  louethe  well  hys  wyfe 

I  brynge  theym  at  debate  and  stryfe 

This  is  sene  daylye 

Also  betwene  syster  and  brother 

There  shall  no  neyghboure  loue  an  other 
525  where  I  dwell  bye 

And  nowe  I  tell  you  playne 

Of  one  man  I  haue  dysdayne 

Prosperyte  men  do  hym  call 


[19] 

He  is  nye  of  my  blood 
530  And  he  to  haue  so  moche  worldly  good 
That  greueth  me  worste  of  all 

lesus  that  is  bothe  stedfaste  and  stable  Prospe[ 

Euer  perseueraunt  and  neuer  mutable 
He  saue  thys  congregacyon 

535        Welcome  pouerte  by  coxs  passyon  Enuye[ 

Howe  haue  ye  done  thys  many  a  daye 

I  thanke  god  as  well  as  any  may  Prospe[ 

ye  call  me  wrong  my  name  is  prosperyte 

Prosperyte  wyth  an  euyll  happe  Enuye[ 

540  Howe  the  deyuil  fortuneste  that 
I  knewe  the  impacyent  pouertye 

what  so  euer  I  was  let  that  matter  pas  Prospe[ 

And  take  me  as  I  am  ryte. 

I  crye  you  mercye  I  was  to  blame  Enuye[ 

545  To  call  you  by  your  olde  name 

yet  all  these  people  thynke  ye  are  the  same 
impacyent  pouertye  as  I  sayd  before 

Auant  I  tell  the.  I  am  gentylman  bore  Prospe[ 

Yf  I  heare  the  reporte  suche  wordes  any  more  ryte. 

550  Thou  shalt  be  punysshed  like  a  knaue. 

Aknaue  quod  a,  by  coxs  passyon  Enuye[ 

I  am  youre  owne  cosyn 
And  nye  of  your  consanguynite, 

Thou  and  I  are  not  of  one  affynyte  Prospe[ 

555        Yf  I  were  a  ryche  man,  ye  wold  not  saye  so  by  me       Enuye[ 
ye  wold  then  say  I  were  your  next  kynsman  on  lyue 

I  saye  go  hence  and  make  no  more  stryfe  Prospe[ 

I  set  not  by  suche  a  pore  haskarde,  ryte. 

Syr  do  not  ye  knowe  my  name  Enuye[ 

560        I  knowe  the  not  by  saynt  lame.  Prospe[ 

Charyte  in  fath  I  am  the  same  Enuye[ 

C.  ii. 


[20] 

What  nedeth  me  for  to  lye 

I  am  youre  cosin  and  so  wyll  I  dye 

ye  maye  be  gladde  soche  a  kynsman  to  haue 
Prospe.  565        Shall  we  haue  more  a  doo  yet  thou  knaue 

I  charge  the,  neuer  knowe  me  for  thy  kynne 
Enuye.  I  praye  you  one  worde  or  I  goo 

Prospe.  Saye  on  shortelye  then  haue  I  doo 

Enuye.  Syr,  I  haue  of  golde  thre  hundreth  pounde 

570  In  a  bagge  faste  ybounde 

At  home  locked  in  my  cheste 

I  purpose  to  goo  to  Jerusalem 

ye  shall  kepe  it  tyll  I  come  agayne 

I  putte  you  beste  in  truste. 
Prospe.  575        Cosyn  I  woulde  fayne  doo  the  beste 

Bycause  ye  are  nere  of  my  bloode 
Enuye.  What,  are  ye  nowe  in  that  moode 

Nowe  I  am  youre  kyngman  because  of  my  good 

Before  of  me  he  hadde  dysdayne 
Prospe-  580        As  for  that  I  was  to  blame 
ryte.  I  knewe  you  not,  be  not  angrye 

ye  are  welcome  to  me  cosyn  charytye 
Enuye.  Then  all  these  matters  lette  be 

I  come  hyther  wyth  you  to  dwell 
585  ye  muste  haue  moo  seruauntes  I  do  you  tell 

Soche  as'were  necessarye  for  youre  person 
Prospe-  I  am  contente  after  youre  prouysyon 

r]yte.  In  euery  thynge  lette  it  be  done 

As  ye  thyncke  moste  expedyende 
Enuye.  590        Syr  I  shall  do  myne  entente 

To  gette  you  seruauntes  moo 
P]rospe-  I  praye  you  hertelye  it  maye  be  so 

]yte.  Alyttle  season  I  wylltfrom  you  goo 

To  solace  me  wyth  some  recreacyon 


[21] 

595        He  that  sytteth  aboue  the  mone  Enuy[ 

Euermore  be  in  youre  protection 

A  ha  here  is  sporte  for  a  Lorde 

That  prosperite  and  I  be  well  at  accorde 

I  shall  brynge  hys  thryfte  vnder  the  borde 
600  I  truste  wythin  shorte  space 

For  it  greueth  my  harte  ryghte  sore 

He  hath  so  moche  treasure  in  store 

And  I  haue  neuer  the  more 

I  muste  fynde  some  proper  shyfte 
605  That  from  hys  good  he  maye  be  lyfte 

To  brynge  hym  to  mysrule  I  holde  it  beste 

For  he  can  soone  brynge  it  to  passe         Here  mysrule 

How  what  rutterkyn  haue  we  here  syngeth  wout 

I  wolde  he  were  oure  subchauntere          comminge  in. 
610  Bycause  he  can  so  well  synge 

Venir  auecque  vous  gentyl  compaygnon  Mysr[u 

Faictes  bone  chere  pour  lamour  de  sainct  lohn 

Mon  coeur  iocunde  is  sette  on  a  mery  pynne 

By  my  trouth  I  am  disposed  to  reuelynge 
615        So  me  thinketh  by  youre  commyn'ge  in  Enuy[e 

What  mysrule  where  haste  thou  bene  manye  yeares 

By  my  trouth  euen  amonges  my  peres  Mysr[u 

I  came  nowe  strayghte  from  the  stewes 

From  lyttle  pretye  lone 
620  Lorde  that  she  is  a  pretye  one 

Holde  thy  peace,  lette,  that  alone  Enuye[ 

Harke  a  worde  or  twayne  to  the 

I  dwell  nowe  wyth  prosperitye 

which  hath  moche  worldly  treasure 
625  yf  thou  can  contryue  in  thy  thoughte 

Howe  that  he  maye  be  broughte  to  noughte 

In  all  thys  worlde  1  desyre  nomore 


[22] 

Mysru.  Tushe  take  no  though  therfore 

I  can  prouyde  for  that  in  the  best  wyse. 

Enuye.  630        Then  let  me  heare  thy  deuyce 

Mysru.  I  wyll  brynge  hym  to  classhe,  cardes  and  dyse 

And  to  propre  trulles  that  be  wanton  and  nyce 
whych  wyll  not  be  kepte  wyth  a  small  pryce 
Howe  thynkest  thou,  wyl  not  thys  do  well 

Enuye.  635        yes  but  harken  in  counsell 
Thou  must  chaunge  thy  name 

misrule  I  wyll  saye  I  hyght  myrth 

Enuye.  And  I  wyl  saye  the  same 

Peace  whyst  I  se  hym  come 

Prospe.640        God  saue  al  thys  honourable  companye 

Enuye.  Syr  you  be  welcome  by  our  blessed  ladye 

I  haue  thought  for  you  full  longe 
Here  isa  gentyl  man,  I  pray  you  for  my  sake 
Say  he  is  welcome,  and  into  youre  seruyce  hym  take 
645  For  greate  courtesye  he  can 

Prospe-  Syr  you  be  welcome,  geue  me  youre  hande 

rite.  And  shewe  me  what  is  youre  name 

misrule  Syr  my  name  is  myrth 

Beloued  wyth  lordes  &  ladyes  of  byrthe 
650  At  euery  tryumphe  I  am  them  with 
They  can  me  not  ones  forbere 

Enuye.  And  ye  had  sought  thys  thousande  yere 

Suche  another  ye  shall  not  fynde 
wherfore  I  councell  you  in  my  mynde 
655  Let  hym  dwell  wyth  you  for  one  yere. 

Prospe.  At  youre  request  I  am  content 

Suche  a  prety  man  for  me  were  expedyent 
And  of  hys  councell  sayne  wolde  I  here 

misrule  Syr  ye  must  synge  and  daunce  &  make  good  chere 

660  I  wolde  ye  had  some  propre  wenche 


[23] 


That  were  yonge  and  lustye  at  apynche 
Her  hele  were  not  so  brode  as  an  ynche 
She  wolde  quycken  your  courage 
Peace  hath  forbyde  al  that  outrage 

665        He  wolde  set  you  at  dotage 

By  cause  he  is  olde  and  nature  is  paste 
He  wolde  nowe  euery  man  shulde  faste 
yf  ye  do  so,  ye  do  but  waste 
And  vnto  you  no  mede 

670        A  strawe  for  him  ye  haue  no  nede 
Of  hym  to  stande  in  awe  or  drede 
A  meryer  life  nowe  may  ye  lede 
Therfore  be  at  your  owne  lybertye. 
By  my  trouth  I  may  saye  to  the 

675  Sith  I  to  him  dyd  assent 
Had  I  neuer  merye  daye 
But  liued  in  feare  and  drede  alwaie 
Nothynge  to  mine  entente 
A  nother  while  I  wyll  me  sporte 

680  Synge  and  daunce  to  my  comforte. 

And  amonge  merye  company  do  resorte 
•For  that  shal  lenghte  your  lyfe. 

Spare  neyther  mayde  ne  wyfe 
Take  bothe  and  they  come  in  youre  waie 

685    Of  wyth  this  lewde  araye 

It  becommeth  you  nought  by  this  daye. 
By  my  trouth  euen  as  ye  saye 
Ye  marye  nowe  am  I  well  apayde 
Me  thynketh  I  am  properly  araide : 

690  yf  I  had  a  proper  trull  she  shulde  be  assayde 
In  the  worshyp  of  the  newe  yere 

Russhe  vp  mutton,  for  beefe  is  deare 
Haue  and  reuell  and  chaunce : 


Prosp[e 
Enuy[e 


Mysr[u 


Prosp[e 
ryte. 


Enuy[e 
Mysr[u 
Enuye[ 
Prosp[e 


Enuye[ 


[24] 

M]ysru.  Nowe  let  vs  bothe  synge  and  daunce 

695  wyll  ye  haue  a  frenshe  rouude 
P]rospe.  And  thou  shalt  se  me  bounce  aboue  the  groude 

Hey  with  reuell  dashe  Peace  entreth 

P]eace.  What  prosperite  is  it  come  hereto 

P]rospe.  What  deuyll  of  hel  hast  thou  to  do 

700  Shall  I  not  make  mery  when  me  lyst. 
P]eace.  Yet  I  saye  beware  of  had  I  wyst 

E]nuye.  Hens  ye  knaue  or  els  thou  shalt  lycke  my  fyst 

I  trowe  thy  heede  wolde  haue  some  knockes 
PJrospe-  Go  set  hym  in  a  payre  of  stockes 

i]te.        705  That  I  hym  no  more  se. 
P]eace.  Yet  man  I  saye  remembre  the 

And  thynke  what  I  to  the  haue  sayde. 

Escheue  euermore  these  ryatours  company 

And  be  ruled  by  reason  as  1  the  badde 
710  Put  fro  the  these  two  persons  by  who  thou  art  lade 

Enuy  &  mysrule  with  theyr  synful  &  great  abusyon 

whych  yf  thou  wylt  not  forsake,  wyl  be  thy  confusion 
PJrospe.  Auaunt  lorel,  and  take  thys  for  a  conclusyon 

These  men  from  me  thou  shalt  not  seperate 
715  Go  out  of  my  syght  or  by  coxs  passyon 

I  shall  laye  the  fast  in  newgate 

P]eace.  It  is  vetter  to  forsake  them  betyme  then  to  late 

M]ysru.  This  knaue  wolde  haue  a  broken  pate 

Let  me  alone  by  goddes  breade 
720  This  same  swerde  shall  stryke  of  hys  head. 
PJrospe-  I  praye  you  hens  that  he  were  rydde 

y]te.  Shortly  haue  hym  out  of  my  syght 

P]eace.  A  lytle  whyle  geue  me  respyte 

And  take  hede  what  I  do  saye 
725  Remembre  in  what  condycyon  thou  was 

when  I  fyrst  mette  the  in  this  place 


[25] 

Full  symple  in  poore  araye 
Nowe  by  the  grace  of  god  and  counsell  of  me 
Thou  arte  come  to  great  prosperyte 
730  And  so  mayst  continue  vntyll  thou  dye 
yf  thou  wyselye  take  hede 
Let  not  sensualyte  lede  the  brydell 
Be  occupyed  in  vertue,  and  be  not  ydell 
The  better  shalte  thou  procede 

735  These  wretches  wyll  thy  goodes  spende  and  wast 
Then  shalte  thou  be  taken  for  an  out  caste 
And  mocked  and  scorned  wyth  most  and  leest 
Then  wyll  no  man  the  helpe  at  nede. 

A  syr  euyll  mote  thou  spede  Enuye. 

740  That  so  can  rede  hys  destanye. 

Wyl  ye  suffre  thys  knaue  in  youre  company  Mysru. 

Then  God  be  wyth  you  I  wyll  forsake  you 

Go  hence  or  in  fayth  I  shall  make  you.  Prospe. 

Then  to  almyghty  god  I  betake  you  Peace. 

745        Let  me  come  to  that  braggar.  Enuye. 

I  shal  thrust  hym  thorowe  the  ars  with  my  dagger 
(And  here  they  face  Peace  out  of  the  place) 
Howe  say  ye,  was  not  thys  a  good  face 
To  dryue  a  knaue  out  of  the  place 

750        In  fayth  thou  made  hym  runne  a  pace  Mysru. 

Thou  loked  as  thou  hadde  bene  madde 

Nowe  by  my  trouth  my  harte  is  glad  Prospe. 

Some  mynstrell  nowe  I  wolde  we  hadde 
To  reuell  and  daunce,  for  by  saynt  Chadde 
755  I  am  so  lyght  me  thinke  I  flee. 

ye  mary  so  shulde  it  be  Enuye. 

For  nowe  I  holde  you  wyse. 

Syr  and  ye  wyll  do  myne  aduyse  misrule[ 

Let  vs  go  strayght  to  the  floure  delyce 

D.  i. 


[26] 

760  There  shall  ye  fynde  a  man  wyll  playe  at  dyce 

with  you  for  an  hundreth  pounde. 
Prospe.  What  man  is  he  ? 

Mysru.  Colehassarde  came  late  from  be  yonde  the  see 

Ragged  and  tome  in  a  garded  cote 
765  And  in  hys  purse  neuer  a  grote 

And  nowe  he  goeth  lyke  a  lorde 
Prospe.  I  pray  the  tell  me  at  our  worde 

Is  he  a  gentylman  bore. 

Enuye.  Tusshe  take  no  thought  therfore 

770  For  be  he  gentylman,  knaue,  or  boye 

If  he  come  hether  with  tryfle,  or  a  toye 

He  can  no  money  lacke. 

Prospe-  Now  by  the  breade  that  god  brake 

ryte.  I  thyncke  longe  tyll  I  hym  se 

775  Myrth  go  before  and  ordayne  a  good  dysshe 

One  of  flesshe,  and  an  other  of  fysshe 
Enuye.  Nay  let  all  be  fleshe 

A  yonge  pullet  tender  and  nesshe 

That  neuer  came  on  broche,  haue  with  y  or  thou  go 
Mysru.  780        What  shall  I  haue  ? 
Enuye.  Foure  quarters  of  a  knaue. 

Rosted  vpon  a  spytte.  Exit  mysrule. 

Prospe.  Nowe  by  my  trouth  and  colehassarde  wyll  syt 

I  wyll  play  as  long  as  an  hundreth  pound  wyll  last. 
Enuye.  785        And  ye  wyl  play  an  hundreth  pounde  at  a  cast 

He  wyll  kepe  you  playe. 
Prospe-  Then  let  vs  go  our  waye 

ryte.  I  syt  on  thornes  tyll  I  come  ther 

Enuye.  That  shall  make  your  thyrfte  full  bare 

Prospe. 790        What  wyll  it  do  ? 
Enuye.  I  say  we  shall  haue  good  chere 

When  we  come  there.  Exut  ambo. 


[27] 

When  phebus  draweth  into  the  occidentall  Peace. 

And  obserued  wyth  clowdes  mysty  and  darke 
795  Then  trees,  herbes,  and  grasse,  by  course  naturall 

want  theyr  chefe  cofort,  thus  sayth  many  a  clarke. 

And  lyke  wyse  that  a  man  in  hys  warke 

Is  dystytute  of  reason,  folowyng  sensual   operacyon 

The  laste  tyme  I  was  in  thys  place 
800  Prosperite  vnto  mysrule  put  hys  hole  confidence 

He  regarded  not  my  counsell,  he  lacked  grace 

which  in  time  coming,  shal  turne  him  to  incouenyece 

wyth  hassarders,  and  ryotters,  he  kepeth  resydence 

At  classhe  and  cardes,  with  al  vnthryftye  game 
805  whych  in  contynaunce  shall  brynge  hym  to  shame 

To  hym  yet  I  wyl  resorte 

Yf  he  be  brought  in  pouertye 

I  shall  do  hym  al  the  comforte 

And  all  the  helpe  that  lyeth  in  me 
810  I  wyl  neuer  reste  tyl  I  hym  se 

But  seke  about  from  place  to  place 

And  bryng  hym  to  some  better  grace  Exit. 

Coll  hassarde  arte  thou  there  misrul[e 

Horeson  knaue  wylt  thou  no  appere 
815  By  my  trouth  I  had  wente  to  haue  founde  hym  here 

I  holde  hym  gone  some  other  waye 

And  where  is  enuye  I  can  not  hym  espye 

I  trowe  he  is  wyth  prosperytye 

Prosperyte,  nay,  I  maye  cal  hym  folysshe  pouerte 
820  As  wyse  as  a  drake 

I  haue  brought  hym  to  dyce,  cardes,  and  classhe 

And  euer  on  hys  syde  ranne  the  losse 

That  he  is  not  worthe  a  handfull  of  mosse 

Neyther  hath  not  a  hole  brat  to  hys  backe 

D.  ii. 


[28] 

Enuye.  825        Passyon  of  god,  is  it  come  to  that 

These  tydynges  maketh  my  hart  glade. 
Mysru.  In  fayth  he  hath  neyther  golde,  syluer,  ne  plate 

Col  hassarde  and  I  be  both  at  one 

He  promysed  me  to  haue  halfe  the  game 
830  That  euery  thynge  shall  be  deuyded  in  twayne 

He  to  haue  the  one  halfe  and  I  the  other 

Enuye.  Then  lette  vs  be  parteners  as  brother  and  brother 

Mysru.  I  can  not  saye,  tyll  Coll  hassarde  come 

Then  shall  we  knowe,  bothe  all  and  some 
Colhas-  835        Here  is  a  bagge  of  golde  so  rounde 
sarde.  Here  in  is  two  thousande  pounde 

Of  prosperyte  me  it  wonne 

What  man  is  able  wyth  me  to  make  comparison 

Nowe  shall  I  take  a  marchauntes  place 
840  To  occupye  I  truste  wythyn  shorte  space 

To  be  incredence  wyth  Englysh  men 

And  when  I  am  so  well  be  truste 

I  maye  borowe  so  moche  as  me  luste 

A  subtyll  crafte  then  fynde  I  muste 
845  To  conuaye  vnder  coloure  lyke  free  men 

Harke  thys  knaue  so  proude  and  stoute 

That  hadde  not  to  hys  arse  a  hole  cloute 

Whe  he  came  to  this  land,  &  now  hath  brought  about 

To  compare  wyth  a  state 

misrule  850        Nowe  muste  I  haue  halfe  money  and  halfe  plate 
Colhas.  Naye  by  God  there  thou  spake  to  late 

None  therof  from  me  shall  scape 

Then  hadde  I  lyned  to  longe 
m]isrule  Thou  promised  me,  when  thou  beganne 

855  Halfe  thy  wynnynge  I  shoulde  haue 
Colhas.  Holde  thy  peace  lewde  knaue 

Knowest  thou  to  whom  thou  doest  speake 


[29] 

A  horeson  thy  head  shal  I  breake  misru[ 

For  the  passyon  of  god  sobre  you  mode  Enuy[ 

860  I  feare  shedynge  of  knaues  bloude 

IT  Here  they  fyght  and  runne  all  out  of  the  place 
And  then  entreth  prosperite  poorely  and  sayeth. 
0  lesu  what  maye  thys  meane  Poue[r 

My  goodes  are  spent  and  wasted  away 
865  Also  my  men  are  from  me  clene 

I  se  them  not  this  seuen  nyghtes  daye 
As  longe  as  I  myght  spende  and  paye 
They  helde  me  vp  with  false  dissymulacyon 
And  now  they  sorsake  me  in  my  most  trybulacyou 
870        Come  for  coxs  bones,  why  tary  ye  so  longe  Enuy[e 

In  fayth  I  come  as  faste  as  I  can  misru[l 

I  am  so  angrye  I  wote  not  what  to  do 
That  yonder  knaue  scaped  from  me  so 

What  knaue  is . thys  1  holde  hym  some  spye  Enuy[e 

875        I  am  youre  mayster,  knowe  ye  not  me  Poue[r 

Tbou  arte  come  a  late  oute  of  marshallsee  Enuy[e 

Me  thynke  hys  hayre  groweth  thorow  his  hode          misru[l 

Alas  Coll  hassarde  hath  wome  all  my  good  Pouer[ 

And  lefte  me  neuer  a  groate 

880        Mary  so  me  thinke,  ye  haue  channged  your  coate  Enuye[ 
But  nowe  ye  haue  one  vauntage. 

What  is  that.  (nother  daye  Pouer[ 

your  executors  shal  not  striue  for  your  goodes  a-        Enuye[ 
Nor  theues  shall  not  robbe  you  goynge  by  the  waye 
885  Thus  ye  shall  stande  oute  of  doute 

Hens  ragged  knaue  or  thou  shal  beare  me  a  cloute  mifrul[ 
Hys  clothes  smell  all  of  the  smoke 

Nowe  by  saynt  Hewe  that  holy  bysshoppe  Enuye[. 

Thys  matter  is  well  brought  to  passe 
890  He  is  nowe  a  knawe  as  he  was 

D.  iii. 


[30] 

Fyrst  a  knaue  and  then  a  man 

And  nowe  he  is  a  knaue  agayne 
Pouer.  Why  save  ye  so  ye  be  to  blame 

I  am  youre  mayster  prosperyte 
misrule895        Auaunt  lorell  and  euyll  to  the 

Get  the  out  of  thys  companye 

begynnest  thou  now  to  make  comparyson 
Enuye.  Let  hym  be  your  vnder  page 

Geue  hym  meate  and  drynke,  but  no  wage 
900  Go  brushe  hys  gowne  &  make  clene  hys  shone 
misrule  Wei  knaue  canst  thou  no  courteysye 

Enuye.  He  hath  soche  a  dysease  in  hys  knee 

He  can  not  chaunce  a  man  groate 

It  is  not  as  ye  wene 

misrule905        Come  and  se  my  shone  made  clene 
Enuye.  By  my  fayth  he  shall  wype  mine 

misrule  Thys  knaue  is  not  mete  for  me 

It  greueth  my  harte  when  I  hym  se 

I  wyl  go  hence  and  leue  you  twayne 
910  For  enuy  thou  mayst  with  pouertye  rayne.  Exit. 

Enuye.  Naye  I  had  leuer  he  were  slayne 

I  am  gone  as  sone  as  ye. 
Pouer.  Abyde  styll  wyth  me  gentyll  charyte 

0  to  whome  shulde  I  sewe,  to  whom  shuld  I  plette 
915  0  mortall  worme  wrapped  all  in  wo 

as  a  man  all  mortified,  and  mased  in  my  wytte 

1  a  captyfe  in  captyuite,  lo  fortune  is  my  foo 

I  am  in  endlesse  sorowe,  alas  what  shall  I  do 
these  captiues  thorow  theyr  cousel  &  fals  imaginacyo 
920  haue  brought  me  to  nought  y  was  of  great  reputacio 
wo  worth  the  tyme  that  I  them  knew 
I  maye  well  syghe  aud  saye  alas 
For  nowe  I  fynde  these  wordes  full  trewe 


[31] 

That  peace  shewed  me  here  in  this  place 
925  I  regarded  not  hys  councell.  I  lacked  grace 

wherfore  nedy  pouerte  on  me  doth  blowe  hys  home 
That  euery  man  and  woma  doth  laugh  me  to  scorne 
Example  to  all  yonge  men  when  they  take  in  hand 
To  occupye  in  the  worlde  for  your  behofe 
930  Loke  wysely  before  and  also  vnderstande 

Euyll  compani  destroyeth  man  on  me  ye  se  the  profe 
Make  a  sure  foundacyon,  or  ye  set  vp  the  rofe 
Of  a  good  &  vertuous  begining  cometh  a  good  endig 
And  euermore  beware  of  vnmeasurable  spendynge 
935  €  Here  entreth  the  Somner. 

I  a  syte  you  in  our  court  to  appeare  Som. 

I  praye  you  tell  me  wherefore  Pouer. 

Ye  be  greate  sclaunderer  and  full  of  enuy  S6ner[ 

There  wyll  no  man  saye  so  but  ye  Pouer[ 

940        what  wylt  thou  geue  me  and  thou  shalt  go  quyte.      S6ner[ 
By  my  trouth  I  haue  not  one  myte  Pouer[. 

Then  open  penaunce  &  thou  art  like  Som. 

By  my  trouth  Isclaunder  no  man  Pouer[. 

Then  come  &  secule  thy  self  as  well  as  thou  can       Som. 
945  C  Haboundance  entreth. 

What  man  is  he  that  can  me  dismaye  Habou[. 

For  I  optayne  all  thynge  at  my  wyll 
Or  who  dare  any  thynge  agaynst  me  saye 
what  so  euer  I  do  be  it  good  or  yll 
950  For  yf  he  do  he  were  better  be  sty  11 

I  shall  hym  punishe  be  it  ryghte  or  wronge 
For  wyth  my  purse  I  can.  both  saue  and  hange 
To  repugne  agaynst  me :  he  were  better  be  styll 
I  haue  a  propre  trull  for  my  pastaunce 
955  In  my  chamber  I  her  kepe,  bothe  nyght  and  daye 
My  neyghbours  therwith,  taketh  great  greuaunce 


[32] 

yet  I  kepe  her  still,  who  so  euer  say  nay 

How  be  it  there  is  one  a  poore  caytyfe  I  heare  saye 

Hath  me  accused  in  the  courte  spiritual! 
960  And  it  coste  me  a,  C.  li.  punishe  him  I  shall 
Som.  Open  synne  must  haue  open  penaunce 

God  spede  my  mayster  haboundaunce 
Habou.  What  knaue  arte  thou  with  a  very  myschaunce 

That  cometh  in  so  homely. 
Soner.  965        Syr  I  praye  you  be  not  angrye 

I  am  an  offycer  of  the  spiritualtye 

Ther  is  vpon  you  a  great  sclaunde 

ye  kepe  another  mannes  wyfe  in  your  chambre 

And  lyue  in  great  aduantrye. 
Habou. 970        What  wretches  doeth  so  say  by  me. 
Som.  It  is  openly  knowen  euery  where 

Before  my  mayster  I  charge  you  to  appere 

Vpon  a  boke  there  shall  ye  swere 

Whether  it  be  so  or  no 
Habou. 975        What  is  the  beste  for  me  to  do 

Rather  then  I  to  the  courte  wyll  goo 

I  had  leuer  spende  twentie  pounde 
Soner.  Syr  of  soche  a  way  may  be  founde 

To  excuse  you.  what  wyll  ye  thed  saye 
Habou. 980        Now  therof  hartely  I  the  praye 
Som.  ye  shall  come  home  to  my  maysters  place 

And  saye  that  ye  be  put  vp  of  malyce 

Thrust  mony  in  his  hande  apace 

And  so  shal  ye  go  quyte  away 

Habou. 985        For  thy  cousel  gamercy,  hold  here  is  .xl.  pence. 
Som.  Come  on  sir  I  wyll  do  my  dylygence.  exiut  ambo. 

C  Here  entreth  y  somner  agayne,  &  pouerte  foloweth 

him  with  a  candell  in  his  hade  doyng  penauce  aboute 

the  place.  And  them  fayth  the  somuer. 
Som.    990  Rowme  syrs  auoydaunce 


[33] 

That  thys  man  maye  do  hys  pennaunce 

Now  haue  I  my  penaunce  done  Pouer[. 

Nay  thou  shalt  aboute  ones  agayne  Soneri 

The  pouerte  and  trouble  that  I  endure  Pouer. 

995  I  cannot  to  you  in  fewe  wordes  expresse 
Yf  it  shulde  be  into  god  no  dyspleasure 
I  wolde  desyre  death  my  payne  to  relesse 
Soche  is  my  penurye  and  troublesome  heuynesse 
That  I  coude  in  no  wyse,  suffre  it  paciently 
1000  But  that  1  truste  to  wynne  heauen  thereby 

What  ma  art  thou  that  maketh  soch  lamentacyon  Peace. 
Mayster  peace,  I  desyre  you  of  pardon  Pouer. 

I  am  youre  seruaunt,  some  tyme  called  prosperyte 

Howe  came  thou  to  thys  perplexyte  Peace. 

1005        Coll  hassarde,  mysrule,  and  false  enuy  Pouer. 

Brought  me  to  hys  destresse 

I  shewed  the  before  playne  expresse  Peace. 

Then  of  my  wordes  thou  haddest  dysdayne 

Therfore  nowe  it  is  to  me  greate  payne  Pouer. 

1010        What  persons  are  those  that  dyd  hym  accuse  Peace. 

Syr  he  is  put  vp  by  sute  of  offyce.  Som. 

Sute  of  offyce,  then  it  is  so  Peace. 

Ther  hath  ben  credable  persons  thre  or  two 
Soche  artycles  to  the  iudge  dyd  shewe 
1015  He  oughte  therto  to  haue  good  respecte 
And  do  swere  these  persons  vpon  a  boke 
For  loue  ne  dred  they  say  but  trewe 
For  it  is  not  lefull  for  a  called,  a  caytyfe,  or  a  knaue 
Agaynst  honest  persons  soch  matters  for  to  haue 
1020  To  put  a  man  to  open  penaunce  without  deue  profe. 

Syr  whe  I  entred  mine  office  this  was  mine  othe  Soner. 
To  herken  about  and  heare 
For  backekyters,  sclaunderers,  and  false  iurers 

E.  i. 


[34] 

Sysmatykes,  homysedes,  and  great  vsures 
1025  Bandes,  aduouterers,  fornycatours,  and  echeters 

All  soch  must  penaunce  do 

Pouer.  I  knowe  one  soche  came  neuer  thereto. 

Peace.  Who  is  that  ? 

Pouer.  His  name  is  called  haboundaunce 

1030  Whych  hath  done  manye  a  great  offence 
For  he  kepeth  another  mannes  wyfe 
No  maner  of  penaunce  ye  make  hym  do 
But  redemeth  wyth  money  and  let  hym  go 
So  in  aduoutrye  styl  he  ledeth  hys  lyfe 
gom      1035        He  made  is  purgacyon  vpon  a  boke 

Or  els  redemed  wyth  the  syluer  hoke 
Pleace  Syluer  hoke,  that  I  denye 

For  it  is  a  playne  decree 
That  open  synne  muste  do  open  punishemete 
1040  There  can  be  no  soche  iudgemente 

That  money  shall  stop  the  lawe. 
PJouer.  Naye  there  stoppe  and  laye  a  strawe 

Where  se  ye  anye  man  a  substaunce 
Put  to  open  penaunce 
1045  But  punysshed  by  the  purse 

A  poore  man  that  hath  nought  to  paye 
Heshalbe  punysshed  thys  ye  se  euery  daye 
But  yf  he  be  obstynaunt  and  wyll  not  obeye 
Anone  they  well  hym  curse. 

1050     Wei  for  thy  saying  another  day  y  shal  fare  y  worse. 

Exyt  somner. 

Syr  I  beseche  you  comfort  me  with  some  solace. 
Thou  art  well  punyshed  for  thy  trespasse 
By  thyne  owne  sensuall  and  vndyscrete  operacyon 
1055  Hath  brought  the  to  all  thys  trybulacyon 

Stande  vp,  wyth  thys  vesture  I  shal  the  renewe, 


[35] 

Syr  I  tharike  you,  &  wyll  do  at  your  reformacyon  Pouer. 

And  for  my  tyme  mysspent  I  am  sore  ashamed 

Yf  ye  do  as  I  you  bydde  ye  shall  not  be  blamed  Peace. 

1060  Forsake  enuy  and,  mysrule  with  al  their  olde  perers 

Be  couersaunt  w  good  me  goodnes  therof  wyl  grow 

Folow  the  sayenge  of  Dauid  :  cu  sancto  sanctus  erys 

For  wycked  men  euermore  wycked  seed  do  sowe 

what  cometh  of  euil  copany  now  thy  self  doth  know 
1065  Prynt  it  well  in  thy  memory  and  do  it  not  forgette 

Many  a  man  doth  decay  for  lacke  of  good  forewitte 

Syr  your  sayenges  is  ful  true  I  haue  perceyued  it  Prospe- 

And  for  the  vertuous  cousell  that  ye  to  me  haue  geue  ryte. 

I  shall  be  your  oratour  whyle  I  haue  a  day  to  lyue 
1070        Soueraynes  here  may  ye  se  proued  before  you  al      Peace. 

Of  thys  wanton  worlde  the  great  fragilyte 

Euer  mutable  of  the  turnyng  as  a  bal 

Nowe  flode  of  ryches  nowe  ebbe  of  pouerte 

What  shulde  men  set  by  this  worldes  vanyte 
1075  Thynke  on  this  lesson  and  do  it  not  forget 

The  gayest  of  vs  al  is  but  wormes  meate 

Withe  the  supportacyon  of  thys  noble  audyence      Prospe- 

we  haue  here  shewed  thys  symple  enterlude  ryte. 

Besechyng  you  of  your  benyuolence  to  take  pacyence 
1080  It  is  but  a  myrrour  vice  to  exclude 

The  maker  hereof  his  entent  was  good 

No  man  to  dysplease  olde  nor  yonge 

Yf  any  faute  be  therin  we  desyre  you  of  pardon 

Let  vs  pray  al  to  that  lorde  of  great  magnificence  Peace. 
1085  To  send  amonge  vs  peace  rest  and  vnyte 

And  lesu  preserue  our  soueraigne  Quene  of  preclare 

preeminence 

with  al  her  noble  consanguynyte 

And  to  sende  them  grace  so  the  yssue  to  obtayne 

E.  ii. 


[36] 

1090  After  them  to  rule  this  most  chrysten  realme 

0  good  Lord  as  thou  arte  onypotent 
Haue  regarde  vnto  my  petycyon 
Conserue  thys  noble  realme,  and  all  that  are  present 
Of  thy  eternall  deyte  graunt  them  al  thy  fruycyon 
1095  And  from  our  mortall  enemies  be  oure  protectyon 
lesu  as  thou  vs  redemed,  bryng  vs  to  the  blesse 
There  as  aungels  synge,  Glorya  in  excelsis 
€E  Amen. 

C  Thus  endeth  the  enterlute  called 
1100  Impacyente  pouertye. 


Imprinted  at  London,  in  Paules 
Churche  yearde  at  the  Sygne  of 
the  Swane  by  lohn  Kynge. 


NOTES. 


Title-page]  The  border  is  apparently  of  foreign  origin,  and 
I  cannot  identify  the  T.  R.  whose  initials  appear  on  it.  It  had  been 
used  earlier  in  the  edition  of  Tyndale's  Obedience  of  a  Christian  Man 
and  Parable  of  the  Wicked  Mammon,  printed  by  W.  Hill,  ?  1548. 
Here  it  has  a  P  in  the  tablet  at  the  foot  of  the  right-hand  figure,  but 
the  T.  R.  in  the  tablet  below  is  masked  out.  Later  it  was  used  in 
J.  Veron's  Dictionary  in  Latine  and  English,  1575,  printed  by 
H.  Middleton  for  J.  Harrison.  The  T.  R.  has  been  cut  away  and 
I.  H.  inserted  in  type.  It  was  used  by  John  King  in  another  work 
printed  in  the  same  year  as  Impatient  Poverty,  see  Ames,  Typo 
graphical  Antiquities,  ed.  Herbert,  p.  763. 

4  Illumyne...  to]  =  cause  to  shine  brightly  upon.  The  construction 
is  unusual.  Perhaps,  as  Bang  remarks,  suggested  by  a  Biblical 
passage,  cf.  Psalm  cxviii.  135,  «  Faciem  tuam  illumina  super 
servum  tuum,  et  doce  me  justificationes  tuas  ». 

8-9  party  &  partyej  The  phrase  was  particularly  used  of  two  op 
ponents  in  a  law-suit. 

8  par]  read  par- 

12  employed]  It  is  hard  to  give  any  satisfactory  meaning  to  the  word 
here.  Possibly  it  is  used  in  the  rare  sense  of  «  bestow  upon  », 
cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  2  «  1548  Gest  Pr.  Masse  104  Melchisedech... 
employing  upon  Abraham  bred  and  wyne  ».  It  would  have  been 
easier  to  understand  «  enioyed  »  here,  but  there  is  no  justifi 
cation  for  supposing  a  misprint. 

22  myscheue]  -=  wound. 

23  Enuye]  The  last  letter  is  blurred. 

24  though]  read  thought. 

24  commnnicatyon]  read  communicatyon. 

25  was...  behoued]  i.  c.  behoved.  I  can  give  no  other  example  of 

this  incorrect  construction. 


38 

28-9  vndone...  tho]  We  should  presumably  read  vndo...  tho  :  but  it 
may  be  remarked  that  in  the  sixteenth  century  « tho  »  is  almost 
exclusively  a  northern  form  (=-  they,  those),  while  «  vndo  »  as  a 
past  participle  is  southern.  Skelton,  however,  who  is  supposed 
to  have  been  born  in  Norfolk  and  who  was  educated  at  Oxford 
and  Cambridge,  once  has  «  tho  »  for  «  those  »  (Works,  ed. 
Dyce,  i.  202,  1.  27),  and  once  uses  «  do  »,  riming  with  sho 
(=  shoe),  as  the  p.  pi.  of  «  do  »  (Magnificence,  1.  1119,  «  what 
haue  I  do  ?  »). 

34  vnyuersall  people]  i.  e.  people  in  general.  I  have  found  no  other 
example  of  this  use  of  the  adjective. 

34  obtayne]  i.  e.  succeed,  prosper,  —  properly,  win  the  victory,  see 
N.E.D.  s.  v.  4,  «  c.  1440  Gesta  Rom.  I.  xxxiv.  134  Pes, 
herynge...  that  mercy,  hir  sistre,  myght  not  opteyne  ne  prevayle 
in  hir  purpose  ». 

38  apate]  read  a  pate. 

39  both  erly  and  late]  Merely  expletive  :  again  in  1.  213. 

46  course]  See  N.E.D.  s.  v.  course  sb.  9,  «  Faculty  or  opportunity 
of  running,  moving,  etc.  »,  «  1539  Act  31  Hen.  VIII,  c.  5.  That 
the  dere  may  haue  course  and  recourse  into  the  ground  ». 

50  y]  read  y. 

51  was...  promocyon]  I  take  this  line  to  mean  «  Was  that  (i.  e.  the 

seizure  of  the  merchants'  ships)  to  their  advantage  ?  ». 

54  shuls]  i.  e.  shouldest.  The  form  does  not  appear  to  be  of  any 
particular  significance  :  s  for  st  as  a  2nd  person  singular 
termination  is  of  course  common  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

59  bryngd]  read  brynge. 

63  It  were]  After  this  there  is  a  mark  somewhat  resembling  a  comma  : 
as,  however,  such  marks  are  very  frequent  in  the  print,  while 
as  a  rule  the  genuine  commas  print  clearly,  I  have  in  all  such 
cases  given  the  printer  the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

66  that]  read  that  ?,  or  possibly  the  line  is  incomplete. 

75  where  is  then  peace  become]  i.  e.  what  has  become  of  peace  ;  - 


39 

a  usual  construction,  cf.  Digby  Mysteries,  ed.  Furnivall,  Mary 
Magd.  ii,  1.  1052. 

78  Irascemini  et  nolite  peccare]  Ephesians,  4.  26. 

79  at  omnium  quare]  Presumably  an  error  for  «  ad  omnia  quare  ». 

Professor  Manly  refers  us  to  the  Macro  Plays,  ed.  Furnivall  and 
Pollard,  p.  21  (Mankind,  1.  571),  «  I  xall  answers  hym  ad 
omnia  quare  ».  Compare  also  Holinshed's  Chronicle,  ed.  1586-7, 
ii.  lOOb,  ed.  1807-8,  vi.  310  :  «  maister  Ailmer...  vpon  the  lord 
Cromwell  his  forewarning,  was  so  well  armed  for  his  highnesse, 
as  he  shewed  himselfe  in  his  discourse,  by  answering  Ad 
omnia  quare,  to  be  a  man  woorthie  to  supplie  an  office  of  so 
great  credit  ».  The  meaning  is  of  course  that  he  had  a  ready 
answer  to  every  question. 

80  reuenged]  The  northern  form  «  reuengit  »  comes  somewhat  nearer 

to  riming  with  «  wolpit  »,  but  in  any  case  the  rime  would  be  a 
bad  one. 

81  our  lady  of  wolpitj  Wolpit  is  a  village  in  Suffolk  on  the  road 

between  Bury  St  Edmunds  and  Stow  Market,  being  about  six 
miles  from  the  latter  place.  In  an  account  of  Woolpit  Church 
by  Samuel  Tymms  in  Proceedings  of  the  Suffolk  Institute  of 
Archeology,  ii.  p.  198  (1854)  it  is  stated  :  «  Our  Lady  of  Wool- 
pit  appears  to  have  been  an  image  of  repute  in  the  county, 
much  frequented  by  pilgrims.  It  was  situated  in  the  chapel  of 
our  Lady,  at  the  end  of  the  south  aisle,  and  stood  under  a  rich 
tabernacle  or  canopy,  which  appears  from  the  will  of  John 
Stevynesson  before  mentioned,  to  have  been  newly  made  in 
1451  ».  Bequests  to  the  chapel  in  1469  and  1515  are  cited  and 
in  1507  John  Calabour  of  Thurston  bequeathed  «  to  oure  lady 
of  Wolpitte  a  golde  rynge  ».  In  the  will  of  Robert  Agas,  also 
of  Thurston,  1469,  he  directed  his  son  to  «  go  or  do  gon  » 
seven  local  pilgrimages  of  which  «  our  lady  of  Woolpit  »  was 
one.  Near  the  church  was  a  well  which  was  also  regarded  as 
sacred  and  was  resorted  to  by  pilgrims.  The  image  seems, 
however,  in  the  sixteenth  century  to  have  been  little  known 
outside  the  immediate  neighbourhood  :  it  is,  for  example,  not 
among  the  famous  shrines  mentioned  in  the  «  Booke  intituled 
the  fantasic  of  Idolatrie  »  printed  in  Foxe's  Acts  and  Monu- 


40 

merits,  1563,  ed.  Townsend,  v.  404-9,  nor  have  I  been  able  to 
find  any  other  reference  to  it  in  writings  of  the  time.  Those  who 
mention  Woolpit,  as  Camden  in  his  Britannia,  generally  refer 
merely  to  that  haunting  little  story  of  the  green  children  from 
the  land  of  St.  Martin,  who  according  to  William  of  Newburgh 
there  emerged  from  underground. 

82  of  the  pate]  i.  e.  on...  Cf.  N.E.D.,  s.  v.  of  55.  The  use  appears 

to  be  a  mere  error. 

83  make  bate]  The  earliest  example  in  N.E.D.  is  1529  :  later  the 

expression  is  common. 

89  nere]  i.  e.  nearer. 

91  shorter  tyde]  i.  e.,  I  presume,  bound  as  a  prisoner,  but  query? 

93  mete  wyth]  Probably  used  in  the  sense  of  «  be  even  with  »,  cf. 

N.E.D.  s.  v.  meet  v.  11  i.,  though  the  earliest  example  these 
given  is  c.  1590,  Marlowe's  Faustus,  x.  88-9,  «  I'll  meet  with 
you  anon  for  interrupting  me  so  »  (ed.  Breymann,  quarto  of 
1604,  11.  1119-20).  See  also  Downf.  of  Rob.  Earl  of  Hunt.,  I.  iii 
(Hazl.  Dods.,  viii.  120),  and  Death  of  R.  E.  of  //.,  V.  i.  14 
(H.  D.,  viii.  304).  --  «  We'll  mete  her  for  that  trick  ».  The 
phrase  occurs,  probably  in  the  same  sense,  in  Latimer's  Fourth 
Sermon  on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  1552  (Sermons  in  Everyman's 
Library,  p.  322).  «  God  will  find  them  out  at  length  ;  he  will 
mete  with  them  when  he  seeth  his  time  ». 

94  goo  a  knaue  awaye]  The  sense  is  evidently  «  go  away  beaten  », 

but  I  cannot  parallel  the  phrase. 

95-101]  These  lines  are  a  reminiscence  of  Lydgate  :  cf.  Two  Nightin 
gale  Poems,  ed.  0.  Glauning,  E.E.T.S.,  i.  190-6  : 
0  synfull  man,  this  ourethe  aght  remord, 

That  standest  exiled  oute  fro  charite, 
To  thenke  howe  that  thy  maker  &  thy  lord 
So  lowly  suffred  this  reprefe  for  the, 
Yevyng  the  ensample,  that  with  humilite 
Fro  morow  to  nyght  thou  folow  shuld  his  trace, 
Yf  thou  in  heuen  with  hym  wilt  cleyme  a  place. 
So  far  as  I  can  ascertain,  the  poem  was  not  in  print  in  the 
fifteenth  or  sixteenth  century.  It  may  be  remarked  that  one 


41 

or  two  other  passages  in  the  play,  notably  11.  405-11,  which 
form  a  stanza  in  the  same  metre  as  the  above,  have  also 
somewhat  the  appearance  of  being  borrowed  from  elsewhere, 
but  I  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  any  source  for  them. 

95  remordej  i.  e.  to  feel  remorse. 
99  humyly]  read  humylity. 
102  Impacyient]  read  Impacient. 

102  pouerte]  Perhaps  some  such  words  as  «  comes  running  in  »  are 

omitted. 

103  Kepe  kepe]  The  word  was  used  for  «  stop  »,  «  arrest  »,  cf. 

Antonio  and  Mellida,  Pt.  i,  III.  ii.  241,  «  Stop  Antonio  !  keep, 
keep  Antonio  !  ».  If,  however,  the  line  is  correctly  assigned  to 
Impatient  Poverty  this  meaning  hardly  fits  the  context.  I  can 
suggest  no  other. 

103  coxs]  i.  e.  God's. 

105  rested]  i.  e.  arrested  ;  a  common  aphetic  form. 

108  In  lyttle  medlynge  standeth  great  rest]  Proverbial.  The  earliest 
example  in  N.E.D.  is  from  Taverner's  Proverbes  or  Adagies... 
of  Erasmus,  see  ed.  1552,  fol.  Ivii,  «  Our  englysh  prouerbe 
sayeth  In  lytle  medlyng  lieth  greate  ease  ».  The  passage  is  in 
the  edition  of  1545  but  not  in  that  of  1539.  Cf.  also  Heywood's 
Proverbs,  ed.  1867,  p.  47,  «  For  of  little  medlyng  cometh 
great  reste  ». 

Ill  truste]  i.  e.  trusted.  For  this  form  of  the  past  participle  compare 

I.  842.  The  rime  to  «  best  »  seems  to  shew  that  the  word  should 
be   «  trest  »,  which  occurs  in  Lindsay,  ed.  Laing,  ii.  337, 

II.  201,  202,  as  a  present  indicative.  Cf.  also  11.  574-5  for  the 
same  rime. 

114  wryte  of  pryueledge]  «  a  writ  to  deliver  a  privileged  person 
from  custody  when  arrested  in  a  civil  suit  »  (N.E.D.).  The 
nobility,  members  of  parliament  and  certain  officials  were 
immune  from  ordinary  legal  proceedings,  and  a  number  of 
other  persons  could  only  be  sued  either  in  particular  courts 
or  in  ways  which  made  it  very  difficult  to  obtain  justice. 


42 

115  go  by  his  nose]  i.  e.  «  under  his  nose  »  —  openly  before  him  : 
cf.  Dekker's  Bachelor's  Banquet,  W0r/fs,ed.Grosart,i.  244. 14, 
«  or  else  some  lustie  gallante  takes  her  [i.  e.  a  man's  wife]  into 
his  house,  and  keepes  her  by  his  nose  ». 

118  They]  Perhaps  we  should  read  «  Thy  »  -  -  but  the  spelling 
«  they  »,  whether  as  an  error  or  as  a  variant  form  of  the 
word,  is  common  ;  cf.  Skelton,  ed.  Dyce,  i.  125.  173  and 
126.  18. 

120  thys  wyll  I]  ?  read  thys  well  I. 

120  knawe]  This  form  of  «  know  »  is  properly  Scottish  or  Northern, 
at  least  in  the  sixteenth  century. 

123  knawe]  In  11.  855-6  «  knaue  »  rimes  with  «  haue  »  and  it  therefore 
seems  probable  that  the  «  w  »  is  simply  an  error  for  u  ;  cf. 
Macro  Plays,  ed.  Furnivall  and  Pollard,  Castle  of  Persev., 
552-4,  where  the  same  rime  occurs.  From  the  list  of  w's  for  v's 
given  at  pp.  xxxvii  of  the  Macro  Plays  it  seems  at  least 
doubtful  whether  the  spelling  had  any  significance  at  all.  At 
the  same  time  it  appears  that  the  form  «  knawe  »  did  exist  in 
some  dialects,  cf.  Havelok,  ed.  Skeat,  1.  949  where  «  knaue  » 
rimes  to  «  plawe  »  (=--  play).  As,  however,  in  the  next  couplet 
«  play  »,  spelt  «  pleye  »  rimes  with  «  weie  »  (way)  the  poet's 
pronunciation  seems  to  have  been  somewhat  unsettled. 

126  holdest  on]  i.  e.  continuest  in,  cf.   «  1500-20  Dunbar  Poems 

xxxiv.  44  «  Hold  on  thy  intent  »  (N.E.D.). 

127  rysshe]  i.  e.  rush  :  riming  with  «  fleshe  ».  The  form  «  rysche  » 

occurs  in  Lyndsay's  Complaint  to  the  King  (Works,  ed.  Laing, 
i.  57),  1.  408. 

132  precyous]  i.  e.  egregious,  out  and  out.  N.E.D.  quotes  «  precious 
knave  »  from  Lydgate's  Minor  Poems  (Percy  Soc.),  p.  52,  and 
«  precious  thief »  horn  Jack  Juggler  in  Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  ii.  142. 

134]  Something  seems  to  have  gone  wrong  with  the  rimes  here.  Qy 
read  «  for  all  thy  good  as  thou  ». 

135  tryetj  Probably  the  northern  or  Scottish  form  «  try  it  ». 
135  thertho]  Probably  an  error  for  «  therto  ». 


43 

141  strenght]  Probably  not  a  misprint ;  see  note  on  «  lengthe  »  in 
1.682. 

141  plyght]  i.e.  assure.  The  latest  example  of  this  sense  in  N.E.D. 

is  before  1500  «  Sir  Beues  2154  (Pynson).  In  that  caue  they 
were  al  nyght  Wythout  mete  or  drynke,  I  you  plyght  ». 

142  victory]  Bang  suggests  «  victories  »  to  rime  with  «  cowardyse  » 

in  1.  139. 

144  goueruaunce]  read  gouernaunce. 
148  your]  read  you. 
148  tnt]  readent. 

152  of]  The  use  of  the  preposition  is  apparently  parallel  to  that  in 
such  phrases  as  «  to  beseech  of  grace  »,  «  to  desire  of  help  », 
&c. ;  see  N.E.D.  s.  v.  of  29. 

158  Peace.}  The  stop  may  possibly  be  a  comma. 

162  enduce]  i.  e.  persuade  (without  the  modern  implication  of  pre 
vailing),  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  induce  I,  «  1494  Fabyan  Chron. 
v.  xcvii.  71.  She  lafte  nat  to  enduce  and  tourne  her  Lord  to 
the  faith  in  all  that  she  myght  ». 

167  dysease]  i.  e.  annoyance. 

176  Let]  i.  e.  pretend.  The  latest  example  of  this  sense  in  N.E.D. 
is  in  1529,  Rastell's  Pastyme  of  People,  ed.  1811,  p.  102, 
«  Vortyger...  letid  as  thoughe  he  had  ben  wroth  with  that 
dede  ».  Not,  so  far  as  I  know,  in  Elizabethan  English.  Cf. 
mod.  slang  (?  American  only)  «  to  let  on  »  to  do  something, 
i.  e.  pretend  to  do  it. 

176  harde]  Apparently  this  variant  of  «  heard  »  is  a  vulgarism  rather 
than  a  dialectal  form  ;  Cf.  Eckhardt,  Die  Dialekttypen  des 
Engl.  Dramas,  i.  §  29,  b  ;  155,  e ;  192  ;  265.  It  occurs  both 
in  northern  and  south-western  texts. 

178  good]  i.  e.  God. 

178  hoo]  i.  e.  Ho  !  or  Stop  ! 

188  by  Goddes  brede]  i.  e.  by  the  sacrament.  The  oath  is  of  frequent 
occurence.  It  is  found  riming  to  «  dead  »  and  «  head  »  in 


44 

Lindsay's  Three  Estates,  1.  943  and  in  his  Interlude  of  the 
Auld  Man  and  his  Wife,  1.  230  (Works,  ed.  Laing,  ii.  338). 
Cf.  also  Ben  Jonson's  Ev.  Man  In,  III.  iv  (1.  1826  in  Q.). 

194  death,]  The  stop  is  faint. 

195  dimitie]  read  dimitte. 

196  example]  A  mark  which  may  possibly  be  a  stop  after  this  :  also 

after  «  spiritu  »  and  «  etien  »  in  11.  197,  198. 

197  beaty]  read  beati. 

198  full  euen]  Two  examples  of  the  phrase,  c.  1340  and  c.  1435,  are 

given  in  N.E.D.,  s.  v.  even  adv.  5.  It  appears  properly  to 
mean  straight  on,  or  directly,  but  here  is  inserted  chiefly  to 
fill  the  line,  as  it  is  in  the  passage  quoted  from  the  Macro  Plays 
in  the  note  on  1.  371. 

199  benediciti]  read  benedicti. 

202  delayaunce]  N.E.D.  has  examples  of  the  word  before  1300  and 
in  1625,  in  the  sense  of  «  delay  ».  It  seems  here  rather  to 
mean  «  objection  ».  Cf.  also  Skelton's  Magnificence,  11.  239-40, 
«  Syr,  without  any  longer  delyaunce,  Take  Lyberte  to  rule, 
and  folowe  myne  entent  »,  or  is  «  delyaunce  »,  as  Dyce 
apparently  thought,  a  form  of  «  dalliance  »  ? 

204  for  mysdedes]  read  perhaps  for  my  mysdedes. 

204-5  take...  repentaunce...  remembraunce]  I  have  come  across  no 
other  instance  of  the  use  of  «  take  »  with  these  words ;  cf., 
however,  such  phrases  as  «  take  thought  »,  «  take  notice  ». 

210  benynge]  i.  e.  benign.  Though  not  limited  to  Scotland,  this 

form  seems  in  the  15th  and  16th  centuries  to  have  been  com 
moner  there  than  in  England.  It  occurs  in  Dunbar,  Gavin 
Douglas  and  Lindsay,  and  in  King  James'  Essayes  of  a 
Prentise,  ed.  Arber,  p.  52,  riming  with  «  king,  ring,  bring  ». 

211  y]  read  y. 

213  both  erly  &  late]  cf.  1.  39. 

215  knowe]  The  rime  requires  the  northern  «  knawe  »  as  in  1.  120. 


217  but  onely]  i.  e.  only,  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  only,  adv.  4d  ;  also  the 
pleonastic  use  of  «  but  »  in  Nashe's  Unfortunate  Traveller, 
Works,  ed.  Me  Kerrow,  ii.  256.  31-2  «  he  tolde  me  but  euerie 
thing  that  she  and  he  agreed  of  ». 

226  caylles]  i.  e.  ninepins.  See  Strutt's  Sports  and  Pastimes,  ed. 

Cox,  219-20.  Cf.  Advice  to  Apprentices  (c.  1450)  in  ReL  Ant. 
(quoted  in  Century  Diet)  : 

Exchewe  allewey  euille  company, 

Caylys,  carding  and  haserdy, 

And  alle  unthryfty  playes. 
Also  N.E.D. ,  s.  v.  kayles. 

227  miswomen]  i.  e.  strumpets.  The  examples  in  N.E.D.  all  date 

from  c.  1528-30. 

230  hassarde]  Standing  probably  for  «  hazarder  »,  a  dice-player. 

230  checke  mate]  i.  e.,  properly,  equal  to  or  a  match  for  (from  the 
chess  term),  but  often  used  as  equivalent  to  «  on  intimate 
terms  with  ».  So  in  Skelton's  Magnificence,  11.  309-10  «  Gete 
you  hens,  I  say,  by  my  counsell ;  I  wyll  not  vse  you  to  play 
with  me  checke  mate  »,  where  both  senses  seem  to  be  aimed 
at,  and  Nashe's  Pierce  Penilesse,  Works,  ed.  Me  Kerrow, 
i.  173.  23,  «  such  obscure  vpstart  gallants,  as...  are  raised 
from  the  plough  to  be  checkmate  with  Princes  ».  Cf.  also 
Bale's  English  Votaries,  Part  ii,  [1560],  F4,  «  She...  being 
checkmate  with  the  Pope,  &  hys  owne  dere  paramoure  ». 

233  plentifull]  i.  e.  liberal,  generous.  No  example  of  this  sense  in 
N.E.D.  earlier  than  1568. 

244  beloued...  wyth]  cf.  1.  440.  N.E.D.  has  an  example  of  this  con 

struction  in  1535  from  Stewart's  Chron.  Scot.  II.  521,  «  Quhilk 
with  the  king  all  tyme  wes  best  belude  ». 

245  Haboundance]  The  form  is  common.   It  occurs   in   Lindsay's 

Dreme,  1.  817,  «  the  haboundance  of  fyschis  in  our  seis  »,  and 
in  Bale's  Kyngejohan,  1.  1724  (ed.  Manly),  but  without  h  in 
1.  2  of  the  same.  It  appears  to  be  of  no  dialectal  significance  ; 
cf.  Havelok,  ed.  Skeat,  xxxvii,  and  Macro  Plays,  p.  xxxviii, 
where  Furnivall  gives  28  examples  of  an  added  h  from  four 
pages  of  the  Letters  of  Sir  John  Howard  in  Manners  and 


Household  Expenses  (Rox.  Club,  1841,  pp.  170-4).  Howard's 
dialect  was  presumably  East  Midland.  See  also  Eckhardt  Die 
Dialekttypen,  §  155a. 

246  lyst]  riming  to  «  best  ».  The  form  «  lest  »  is  perhaps  to  be 
regarded  as  northern,  but  the  point  is  doubtful.  Cf.  note  on 
1.  842. 

248  Golde]  read  perhaps  Of  golde 

249  layne]  i.  e.  conceal  it.  Apparently  in  assonance  with  «  name  » 

in  1.  245  ;  not  with  «  meane  »  in  1.  252.  The  same  assonance 
occurs  in  the  Townley  Plays,  ed.  England  and  Pollard,  xx. 
668,  670. 

Ihesus.  whome  seke  ye,  syrs,  by  name  ? 

Secundus  Miles,  we  seke  ihesu  of  nazarene. 

Ihesus.  I  kepe  not  my  name  to  layn  ; 

lo,  I  am  here,  the  same  ye  mene ; 

Note  that  the  second  and  fourth  lines  are  a  distinct  rime  and 
compare  11.  252,  255  here. 

The  word  «  lain  »  is  decidedly  more  common  in  northern 
English  than  in  southern. 

253  <£c.]  It  would  be  unwise  to  press  the  point,  but  it  may  be 
remarked  in  passing  that  this  long  discussion  of  usury  and 
the  means  adopted  to  evade  the  laws  against  it  seems  to  sug 
gest  a  date,  for  this  passage  at  least,  not  earlier  than  1550. 
Laws  against  usury  were  indeed  passed  at  all  periods  but 
until  this  date  they  seem  to  have  had  little  effect  and  to  have 
attracted  comparatively  little  attention.  So  far  as  I  am  aware, 
save  for  general  denunciations,  there  is  little  reference  to  the 
evils  of  usury  in  the  popular  literature  of  the  first  half  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  such  discussion  of  the  subject  as  there  was 
being  chiefly  academic.  In  1545  however  the  rate  of  interest 
that  might  be  taken  was  limited  to  10  per  cent  and  in  1550  the 
taking  of  interest  was  altogether  forbidden.  From  this  date 
onwards  we  find  a  continually  increasing  number  of  attacks  on 
usurers,  and  accounts,  some  in  great  detail,  of  the  way  in 
which  they  defrauded  those  who  borrowed  from  them. 

256  I  wyll  lende  them  ware]  The  methods  of  Elizabethan  usurers 
are  well  known  to  all  students  of  the  literature  of  the  time  and 


47 

need  not  be  discussed  here.  The  underlying  principle  was  that 
instead  of  money  being  lent,  goods  were  sold  to  the  would-be 
borrower  in  return  for  a  pledge  of  future  payment.  The  goods 
were  of  course  priced  at  a  sum  for  beyond  their  proper  value, 
and  this  excessive  price  was  generally  equivalent  to  a  very 
high  rate  of  interest.  The  usurer  was  protected  by  the  difficulty 
of  proving  at  a  later  date  that  he  had  not  given  goods  to  the 
full  value  of  the  money  that  he  claimed. 

259-60  gette...  nought!  These  lines  should  apparently  rime, and  some 
thing  has  gone  wrong,  but  I  can  suggest  no  emendation. 

262  for  myne  auayle]  i.  e.,  probably,  «  for  my  profit  from  the  trans 
action  »,  «  for  my  advantage  »,  or,  possibly  «  in  return  for  my 
assistance  to  him  ». 

265  paste]  The  word  looks  rather  like  «  paffe  »,  but  I  give  the  printer 
the  benefit  of  the  doubt. 

267  thought]  i.  e.  though.  Presumably  the  northern  form  generally 

spelt  «  thocht  ». 

268  Thus]  read  probably  This 

268  vsed]  The  rime  with  «  refuse  it  »  demands  the  northern  form 
«  vsit  ». 

270  he]  ?  omit. 

272  synguler  commodum]  The  phrase  seems  to  mean  «  profit  to 
himself  ».  «  Singular  Profeit  »  is  mentioned  in  Lindsay's 
Three  Estates,  1.  3778,  but  it  is  not  altogether  clear  what  is 
there  intended. 

279  marchandy]  The  latest  instance  in  N.E.D.  of  this  word"  in  the 

sense  of  mercantile  commodities  or  merchandise  dates  from 
1439.  In  the  Libel  of  English  Policy,  c.  1437,  printed  by 
Hakluyt  in  his  Principal  Navigations,  it  occurs  some  25  times. 

280  theym)  The  spelling  «  theym  »  or  «  thaym  »  for  «  them  »  is  of 

occasional  occurrence  but  seems  to  have  no  particular  dialectal 
significance.  Cf.  11.  355,  455,  461,  521. 

282  statute]  possibly  slatute. 


48 

282  statute  marchaunte]  i.  e.  «  a  bond  of  record,  now  obsolete, 

acknowledged  before  the  chief  magistrate  of  some  trading 
town,  on  which,  if  not  paid  at  the  day,  an  execution  might  be 
awarded  against  the  body,  lands,  and  goods  of  the  obligor  ». 
Century  Diet. 

283  Bycause  I  maye  forbeare]  i.e.?  in  return  for  the  deferring  of 

payment.  Or  should  we  take  this  line  with  the  two  following 
ones,  as  meaning  «  I  make  £  40  of  £  20  in  six  months, 
because  I  can  afford  to  wait  ?  » 

285  hafle]  read  halfe. 

304  For  the  thyrde  penny]  i.  e.  at  one  third  of  the  price.  See  N.E.D. 
s.  v.  penny  B  4  c,  where  are  many  examples  of  various  dates 
with  different  numerals. 

309  Wherfore  this]  i.  e.  Wherefore  ?  This 

315  in  the  sentece]  The  allusion  is  probably  to  the  scriptural  passages 
in  which  usury  is  forbidden,  or  perhaps  to  the  commination 
service,  which  includes  a  curse  against  the  unmerciful,  the 
covetous,  and  extortioners.  In  the  Edward  prayer-books  the 
curses  are  called  «  the  general  sentences  of  God's  cursing 
against  impenitent  sinners  ». 

318  mellj  i.  e.  meddle,  have  to  do  with. 

321  occupyej  i.  e.  practise  ;  cf.  Latimer's  Fifth  Sermon  on  the  Lord's 

Prayer  (Sermons  in  «  Every  Man's  Library  »,  p.  347),  «  So 
he  that  occupieth  usury...  doth  wickedly  in  the  sight  of  God  ». 
Cf.  Youth  (Materialien,  bd.  xii),  1.  6  and  note. 

322  transgressethj  The  plural  in  -eth  is  distinctively  southern,  but 

there  seems  a  possibility  that  the  «  th  »  is  simply  a  misprint 
anticipating  the  following  «  the  ».  Cf.  note  on  1.  1033,  the 
only  other  example  of  this  termination  in  the  play. 

329  the  dearer  for  dayes]  i.  e.  charging  more  in  consideration  of  the 
deferring  of  payment. 

335  dampned]  i.  e.  damned.  The  form  was  common  in  all  dialects 
until  c.  1550. 


49 

338  kepte]  Probably,  1  think,  an  error  for  «  kepe  ».  At  this  date  the 
use  of  «  keep  »  for  «  get  »,  «  seize  »,  seems  to  have  long  been 
antiquated,  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  keep  v.  1,2. 

353-4  Quia...  ablatum]  See  Saint  Augustine  Epist.  153,  Migne, 
Pair.  Curs.  33  (August.  2),  col.  662,  «  Si  enim  res  aliena, 
propter  quam  peccatum  est,  cum  reddi  possit,  non  redditur, 
non  agitur  poenitentia,  sed  fingitur :  si  autem  veraciter  agitur, 
non  remittetur  peccatum,  nisi  restituatur  ablatum  ;  sed  ut 
dixi  cum  restitui  potest  ».  A  frequently  quoted  saying,  cf.  the 
Adagia  of  G.  Cognatus  (Erasmus,  Adagia,  ed.  1574,  ii.  490) 
and  Latimer's  Sermon,  u.  s.,  p.  342,  «  Also,  this  is  a  true 
sentence  used  of  St  Augustine,  Non  remittetur  peccatum,  nisi 
restituatur  ablatum  ». 

361  Mke]  read  Make. 

365  with  thy  strongest  part  renneth  the  ball]  For  «  thy  »  read 
probably  «  the  ».  The  saying  apparently  refers  to  one  of  the 
numerous  ball  games,  such  as  football  or  hockey,  but  I  have 
not  come  across  any  other  example  of  it.  The  ball  of  course 
goes  in  the  same  direction  as  the  strongest  side.  The  meaning 
here  seems  to  be  that  the  rich  always  get  the  best  of  it,  but 
the  passage  is  not  very  clear. 

370  When  thou  seest  my  soule  tome  set  on  a  cloutej  i.  e.  if  any 

harm  comes  to  my  soul,  you  may  mend  it.  I  have  not  met 
with  the  phrase  elsewhere.  It  does  not  seem  to  have  any 
connection  with  «  my  soul  hangeth  on  the  hedge  »  in  Youth, 
622  and  Hyckescorner ,  526. 

371  route]  Apparently  =-  routh,  abound.  Cf.  Lindsay,  Three  Estates, 

11.  399-400.  «  Bot  faith  wee  wald  speid  all  the  better  Till  gar 
our  pursses  rout  ».  The  rime-word  is  «•  about  ». 
Cf.,  however,  Macro  Plays,  Castle  ofPersev.,  11.  33-5  : 
aftyre  Ire  &  Envye,  the  Fend  hath  to  hym  lent 
Bakbytynge  &  endytynge,  with  all  men  for  to  route, 

Ful  evyn  ; 

Where  the  word  «  route  »  is  explained  as  «  roar,  make 
trouble  ».  Also  the  Macro  play  of  Wisdom,  1.  505,  «  let  reuell 
rowte  !  »  where  the  editors  gloss  «  frolic  ». 


50 

375-6]  The  sense  is  presumably  «  There  is  an  example  (which  is  true) 
in  the  case  of  King  Ahab,  who  [or  hel  desired,  &c.  ?  Perhaps 
the  text  is  loosely  constructed  rather  than  corrupt. 

379  peached]  i.  e.  impeached.  Examples  in  N.E.D.  c.  1460  and  1534. 

379  trason]  See  note  on  1.  380. 

380  quest]  i.  e.  jury. 

380  raue]  read,  presumably,  rane,  i.  e.  ran.  In  Scotch  the  word  in 

the  form  «  roun  »  (if  this  is  a  possible  form  for  the  preterite) 
would  rime  with  «  treisoun  »  and  «  possessioun  ».  Cf.  Lind 
say,  Dialogue  of  Experience  and  Courtier,  11.  4193-5,  where 
«  roun  »  (past  participle)  rimes  with  «  campioun  »  (i.  e. 
champion). 

381  lese]  i.  e.  lose. 
383  Helias]  i.  e.  Elijah. 
389  our]  ?  read  your. 

395  pretende]  i.  e.  attempt,  or  make  vp  your  mind.  Compare  the  use 
of  the  word  in  the  first  quotation  from  Lindsay  given  in  the 
Appendix  to  the  Introduction,  and  note  that  the  English  reviser 
has  substituted  «  intend  ». 

399  mucker  vp]  i.  e.  heap  up  as  a  dung-heap.  Cf.  «  muckehill  vp  » 
in  Nashe's  Have  with  you  to  Saffron- Walden,  TP. 

402  insure]  i.  e.  assure.  The  word  occurs  in  the  Towneley  Plays, 
ed.  England  and  Pollard,  p.  229,  1.  36  and  in  Barclay's  Shyp 
ofFolys,  ed.  Jamieson,  ii.  329  (N.E.D.). 

405  Odulle]  read  0  dulle. 

405  plunged!  i.  e.  overwhelmed;  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  plunge  v.  3,  Digby 
Mysteries,  c.  1485,  ed.  Furnivall,  p.  187,1.462,  «  This  womans 
harte  is  plungid  with  payn  ». 

409  God  wyl  stryke  when  he  lyst,  ye  know  not  how  sone]  Perhaps 
proverbial,  but  I  have  not  found  it  elsewhere  in  the  same 
words.  The  idea  is  of  course  common  enough. 

414  in  fayte]  «  fayte  »  is  a  common  form  of  «  feat  »,  and  the  phrase 


51 

«  in  feat  »  is  given  in  N.E.D.  as  in  use  in  the  fourteenth  and 
fifteenth  centuries  in  the  sense  of  «  in  fact  ».  It  seems,  how 
ever,  probable  that  we  have  here  merely  an  error  for  «  in 
fayth  »  (Cf.  11.  515,  561,  743  <5c.). 

414,  415  bej  i.  e.  been.  The  form  appears  to  be  distinctively  southern. 
414,  417]  Something  is  wrong  with  the  rimes  here. 

415  shuldc]  read  shulde. 

416  se]  i.  e.  saw.  This  form  of  the  preterite  seems  to  be  properly 

southern,  but  is  in  any  case  scarce.  It  occurs,  riming  to 
«  mee  »,  in  Gammer  Carton's  Needle,  I.  v.  38  (Eckhardt,  §  45, 
cf.  §  162). 

418  to  go]  The  phrase  is  not  infrequent  in  the  sense  of  «  went  », 
generally  with  an  idea  of  going  hurriedly  :  cf.  Lindsay,  Three 
Estates,  4299-300  : 

The  sow  cryit  guff,  and  I  to  ga, 

Throw  speid  of  fute,  I  gat  awa. 

For  other  examples  see  my  note  on  Summer's  Last  Will  1.  249 
in  Nashe's  Works. 

418-25]  The  whole  of  this  passage  is  obscure.  It  is  not  clear  who 
«  he  »  and  «  she  »  are,  nor  why  if  «  he  »  goes  and  «  she  »  is 
after  him,  «  he  »  should  overtake  «  her  »  as  he  appears  to  do. 

420  incroke]  Cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  incrook,  which  is  found  as  a  verb  in 

the  sense  of  to  crook,  bend  ;  but  there  seems  no  meaning 
which  will  fit  the  context  here.  It  might  also  perhaps  be  a  form 
of  «  encroach  »,  but  this  gives  no  better  sense. 

421  chopte]  i.  e.  struck. 

424  spat!  i.  e.  a  slight  blow,  slap.  Common  at  present  in  several 
dialects,  both  northern  &  southern  (see  E.D.D.). 

440  beloued...  wyth]  See  note  on  1.  244. 

441  coueteouse]  i.  e.  covetise,  covetousness.  There  are  examples  of 

the  form  in  N.E.D.  from  before  1300  (Cursor  Mundi)  to  1568. 

443  bonum  exempluml  There  is  probably  some  special  allusion  in 
the  use  of  this  phrase  and  «  bonus  pastor  ovium  »  in  1.  446, 
but  I  cannot  explain  it. 


52 

449  clocke]  i.  e.  cloak. 

452  vppon  enuy]  The  meaning  seems  to  be  «  in  consequence  of 
envy  »,  «  through  envy  »  ;  but  I  have  met  with  no  similar  use 
of  the  word.  Or  can  «  vppon  »  be  an  error  for,  or  variant  form 
of,  «  open  ». 

456  themporaltye]  read  temporaltye. 

457  slewth],    i.   e.    sloth.  The   form    seems    rather  northern    than 

southern.  It  occurs  in  Gavin  Douglas  and  Lindsay. 

466  by]  i.  e.  about,  concerning. 

474  putteth  hys  wyll  thereto]  i.  e.  exerts  himself,  does  all  he  can. 

479  drawe]  i.  e.  drawn.  This  form  of  the  past  participle  seems  to 
have  been  rare  after  the  fifteenth  century,  but  N.E.D.  has  one 
example  of  it  c.  1550  from  Lucrece  &  Euryalus  (s.  v.  draw, 
v.  A3). 

483  falsshed]  A  common  form  of  «  falsehood  ». 

483  the  courtes  promocyon]  The  meaning  seems  to  be  — forgathering 
information  for  the  court.  «  Promoter  »  was  a  common  term 
for  informer  or  spy.  That  the  gathering  of  information  was  an 
important  part  of  the  Sumner's  duties  is  seen  in  Chaucer's 
Freres  Tale. 

486  There]  i.  e.  thereas,  whereas,  seeing  that,  because. 

490  promote  you  of  .xx.  pence]  i.e.  benefit  you  to  the  extent  of  20  d. 

This  use  of  the  word  has  no  parallel  in  N.E.D. 

491  kepte  your  resydence]  The  phrase  seems  to  be  used  in  the 

incorrect  sense  of  «  kept  your  office  ». 

495]  A  new  speech  (Envy's)  begins  here. 
500]  The  line  should  be  indented. 

501  the  Tyborne]  The  use  of  the  article  here  is  as  uncommon  as  its 
omission  before  «  wildernesse  »  in  the  preceding  line.  The 
imperfect  rimes  somewhat  suggest  that  originally  the  names 
of  other  places  were  used  and  that  changes  were  made  to 
adapt  the  play  to  a  different  locality.  The  words  «  get  you  to 
wyldernes,  or  some  other  regyo  »  seem  below  the  level  even 
of  the  author  of  Impatient  Poverty. 


53 

508  departynge]  i.  e.  parting. 

512  haue  at]  Cf.  Youth  539.  The  phrase  was  very  common  from  the 
end  of  the  fourteenth  century. 

527  dysdayne]  i.  e.  hatred.  Cf.  1.  579. 

533  perseueraunt]  i.  e.  enduring. 

535  coxs  passyon]  i.  e.  God's  (or  Christ's)  Passion. 

540  fortuneste  that]  The  meaning  seems  to  be  «  How  have  you 

come  to  that  fortune  or  state?  »  -  -  but  the  form  of  the 
expression  is  curious.  «  Howe...  fortunes  that  »,  i.  e.  how 
does  that  come  about,  would  be  more  natural. 

541  the]  i.  e.  thee. 

548  Auant]  i.  e.  Auaunt,  which  we  should  perhaps  read. 

548  gentylman  bore]  i.  e.  gentleman  by  birth.  The  phrase  more 
usually  has  the  indefinite  article,  as  in  1.  768. 
The  form  «  bore  »  for  the  past  participle  of  «  bear  »  was 
frequent,  and  is  apparently  without  dialectal  significance. 

551  Aknaue]  read  A  knaue. 

552  cosynj  There  is  no  form  of  the  word  which  can  rime  with  passyon. 

553  nye  of  your  consanguynite1  i.  e.  closely  related  to  you,  not 

almost  related. 

555  by]  i.  e.  about,  of. 

556  on  lyue]  i.  e.  alive. 

558  haskarde]  «  a  man  of  low  degree,  a  base  or  vulgar  fellow  » 
N.E.D.,  which  has  examples  from  1491. 

560  saynt  lamel  So  far  as  I  can  learn,  St  James  was  not  associated 

with  any  particular  locality  in  England,  but  his  shrine  at 
Compostella  was,  of  course,  universally  known.  The  form 
«  Jame  »  was  common  at  an  early  date  —  it  occurs  several 
times  in  Chaucer  —  but  I  can  quote  no  other  example  of  it  in 
the  sixteenth  century. 

561  fath]  read  faith. 


54 

568  I  doo]  i.  e.  y-do  =  done.  The  form  seems  to  be  distinctively 
southern.  Cf.  Youth,  1.  280,  «  youth  I  pray  the  haue  a  doo  ». 

574  I  putte  you  beste  in  truste]  i.e.,  apparently,  I  consider  you  most 
trustworthy ;  but  I  have  not  met  with  the  phrase  elsewhere. 
Or  can  it  mean  «  I  put  you  in  the  chief  position  of  trust  », 
«  I  appoint  you  chief  guardian  ?  »  Possibly  there  is  some 
confusion  with  «  best  betrust  »,  cf.  1.  842.  For  the  rime  to 
beste,  indicating  that  the  form  should  be  «  treste  »,  see  note  on 

I.  111. 

578  kyngman]  read  kynsman. 

579  he]  read  probably  ye. 

589  expedyende]  read  expedyente,  riming  with  «  entente  ». 

590  entente!  i.  e.  endeavour,  cf.  Le  Morte  Arthur,  ed.  Furnivall, 

II.  3690-1.  «  To  please  god  Alle  that  I  maye  I  shalle  here- 
After  do  myne  entente  »  (N.E.D.,  s.  v.  intent  sb.  3). 

593  Alyttle]  read  A  lyttle. 

596  be  in  youre]  ?  read  be  youre. 

599  brynge...  vnder  the  borde]  i.  e.  apparently,  bring  it  to  nothing, 
cause  it  to  vanish  :  I  can  find  no  other  example  of  the  phrase. 
In  Martin's  Month's  Mind,  1589  (Nashe,  ed.  Grosart,  i.  194) 
«  threwe  him  vnder  boord  »  is  apparently  equivalent  to  «  threw 
him  under  the  table  ».  Commonly  «  under  board  »  =  under 
hand. 

608  rutterkyn]  i.  e.  swaggering  gallant,  or  bully.  The  word  occurs 

from  1526  (N.E.D.). 

609  subchaunterel  i.  e.  succentor.  One  who  sings  a  bass  part  in  a 

choir ;  also  one  who  serves  as  a  precentor's  deputy.  Whether 
some  jest  is  intended  here  I  cannot  say. 

613  sette  on  a  mery  pynne]  i.  e.  is  merry.  The  earliest  example  in 
N.E.D.  («  on  a  ioly  pyn  »)  is  Chaucer,  Merchants'  Tale,  1.  272. 
Later  the  phrase  was  very  common  :  cf.  Digby  Mysteries,  v. 
492,  «  I  wyll  sett  my  soule  on  a  mery  pynne  »  (N.E.D.},  and 
Nice  Wanton  in  Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  ii.  166,  «  I  will  set  my 
heart  On  a  merry  pin,  Whatever  shall  befall  ». 


55 

616  bene  manye]  One  would  rather  expect  «  bene  these  manye  ». 

617  trouth]  possibly  txouth. 

620  that  she  is  a  pretye  one]  i.  e.  what  a  pretty  one  she  is  ! 

621  lette,  that]  read  lette  that. 

628  though]  The  second  h  is  damaged  and  resembles  b.  Read  thought. 

631  classhe]  i.  e.  closh,  a  game  with  a  ball,  which  according  to  some 

resembled  nine-pins,  but  according  to  others  was  more  like 
croquet.  Examples  in  N.E.D.  from  1477  onwards.  It  appears 
to  have  become  obsolete  before  1600. 

632  nyce]  The  meaning  here  is  probably  «  dainty  »,  «  elegant  »,  but 

the  word  could  also  mean  «  licentious  »  or  «  extravagant  », 
which  would  suit  the  context  perhaps  better. 

635  in  counsell]  i.  e.  in  secret. 
637  hyght]  i.  e.  am  called. 

642  thought...  full  longe]  i.  e.  longed  for  you  ;  cf.  1.  774. 

643  isa]  read  is  a. 

657  prety]  In  the  word  «  pretty  »  there  was  often  a  sense  of  clever, 

skilful,  as  well  as  gallant,  fine,  or  handsome,  and  this  is 
perhaps  the  case  here  (cf.  next  line).  So  in  Youth,  1.  322, 
«  A  prety  man  and  wise  ». 

658  sayne]  read  fayne. 

661  apynche]  read  a  pynche.  Examples  of  the  phrase  «  at  a  pinch  », 

i.  e.  in  a  strait,  are  given  in  N.E.D.  from  1489  onwards. 

662  Her  hele  were  not  so  brode  as  an  ynche]  i.  e.  she  is  very  lively 

or  wanton.  Cf.  the  similar  «  light-heeled  »  (N.E.D.)  «  short 
heeld  »  (Nashe,  ed.  McKerrow,  iii.  384.  36  and  note). 

665  set  you  at  dotage]  i.  e.  ?  he  would  make  an  old  man  of  you. 
670  him  ye]  read  him,  ye. 
674  may]  read  may. 

678  entente]  i.  e.  desire.  Cf.  Chaucer  Minor  Poems,  18.  68,  «agreable 
unto  myn  entente  ». 


56 

679  A  nother]  Not  a  misprint,  but  a  variant  form  of  «  an  other  ». 
Examples  in  N.E.D.  to  1559  (one  in  1608  seems  questionable). 

682  lenghte]  i.  e.  length  v.,  =  lengthen.  The  N.E.D.  recognizes  the 
form  «  lenght  »  for  the  fourteenth  to  sixteenth  centuries.  The 
form  «  strenght  »  for  «  strength  »  is  fairly  common  at  the 
close  of  the  sixteenth  century  (cf.  1.  141),  though  it  is  generally 
regarded  as  a  misprint. 

687  By]  Should  be  indented.  Envy  apparently  gives  new  clothes  to 
Prosperity. 

691  In  the  worshyp  of  the  newe  yere]  I  cannot  explain  this.  Beyond 

the  fact  that  the  New  Year  was  a  time  of  merry-making  there 
seems  no  point  in  its  mention  here. 

692  Russhe  vp  mutton]  Alluding,  I  suppose,   to  the  cant  use  of 

«  mutton  »  for  «  prostitute  »  ;  but  I  do  not  know  exactly  what 
is  meant  by  «  Russhe  vp  ». 

693  Haue  and]  ?  read  Haue  at.  Cf.  1.  512. 

695  rouude]  read  rounde.  I  cannot  learn  that  any  particular  kind  of 

dance  was  termed  a  «  French  round  ». 

696  groude]  read  grounde. 

697  dashe]  Apparently  an  exclamation. 

701  beware  of  had  I  wyst]  Cf.  Paradise  of  Dainty  Devices,  A  3, 
«  Beware  of  had-I-wyst,  whose  fine  bringes  care  and  smart  » 
(Century  Diet.).  The  phrase  was  exceedingly  common.  For 
several  examples  see  note  in  Brydges'  British  Bibliographer, 
ii.  555. 

713  lorel]  i.  e.  rogue. 
717  vetter]  read  better. 

721  rydde]  The  word  is  perhaps  intended  to  rime  with  «  head  ».  The 
form  «  red  »  or  «  redd  »  is  the  normal  past  participle  of  the 
northern  verb  «  redd  »,  corresponding  in  meanings  to  the 
southern  «  rid  ».  See  N.E.D.  s.  v.  redd.v.2. 

737  wyth]  i.  e.  by. 


57 

744  betake!  i.  e.  give,  entrust. 

745  braggar]  i.  e.  braggart.  The  form  without  t  should  properly  be 

«  bragger  »,  but  the  -ar  termination  is  not  rare. 

747  face]  Examples  in  N.E.D.  from  «  c.  1530  More  Answ.  Frith  iv. 
Wks.  1132/2  Your  false  heresy,  wherwith  you  would  face  our 
Sauiour  out  of  the  blessed  sacrament  ».  Explained  as  to  exclude 
shamelessly  from,  bully  out  of,  but  here  evidently  to  advance 
on  a  person  with  grimaces  (cf.  11.  748-51)  —  a  method  of  teasing 
not  unknown  to  schoolboys  of  the  present  day. 

754  saynt  Chadde]  i.  e.  Ceadda,  a  Northumbrian  by  birth,  bishop  of 

Mercia  c.  670,  his  seat  being  at  Lichfield.  He  died  in  672.  He 
was  one  of  the  best  known  of  English  saints,  his  day  being 
March  2.  In  Chambers  and  Sidgwick's  Early  English  Lyrics 
(note  on  cxxiv.  5)  it  is  remarked  that  his  name  is  frequently 
found  together  with  St  David's  (March  1).  He  does  not  seem 
to  have  been  associated  in  the  sixteenth  century  with  any 
particular  locality. 

755  flee]  The  form  «  flee  »  is  the  regular  Northern  representative  of 

O.E.  fle'ogan,  to  fly,  as  well  as  of  fle"on,  to  flee,  but  its  use  for 
«  fly  »  was  in  the  sixteenth  century  by  no  means  confined  to 
the  north. 

763  Colehassarde]  I  cannot  offer  any  explanation  of  the  name,  but  it 
may  be  remarked  that  «  collhardy  »  occurs  in  1581  in  the 
sense  of  foolhardy.  Perhaps  «  Colehassarde  »  merely  means 
one  who  risks  or  wagers  his  neck.  So  far  as  I  can  learn  he 
is  unknown  as  a  character  in  the  French  interludes. 

763  came]  We  should  expect  «  come  »  (past  participle). 

764  garded]  i.  e.  ornamented. 

767  our]  ?  read  one. 

768  a  gentylman  bore]  Cf.  1.  548. 
771  with  tryfle  |  ?  read  with  a  tryfle. 
774  thyncke  longe]  Cf.  1.  642. 

778  nesshe]  i.  e.  tender. 


58 

786  kepe  you  playe]  i  e.  play  with  you  :  more  usually,  keep  one 
occupied  (by  opposing).  Examples  in  N.E.D.  from  1548.  Cf. 
Nashe  (Works,  ed.  McKerrow,  ii.  232.  11-12)  «  these  Mun- 
sterians...  kept  the  Emperour  and  the  Duke  of  Saxonie  play 
for  the  space  of  a  yere  ».  The  similar  phrase  to  «  hold  one 
play  »  is  also  common. 

788  syt  on  thornes]  i.  e.  am  impatient.  Very  common  later,  but  I  have 
met  with  no  other  early  example  of  the  phrase. 

788  ther]  We  might  help  the  rime  by  reading  the  northern  «  thare  » 

(:  bare),  but  «  there  »  rimes  with  «  chere  »  just  below. 

789  thyrfte]  read  thryfte. 
792  Exut]  read  Exeut. 

794  obserued]  read  obscured  or  is  obscured.  The  first  e  is  damaged 
and  was  probably  used  in  mistake  for  c  (having  in  distribution 
been  wrongly  put  into  the  c-box).  The  printer  or  proof-reader 
then  finding  he  had  «  obscured  »  might  easily  make  what 
would  seem  the  obvious  correction  to  «  obserued  ». 

797  warke]  i.  e.  work.  The  form  is  northern  ;  cf.  Eckhardt,  §  265. 
803  hassardersj  Cf.  1.  230. 

814  no]  read  probably  not. 

815  wente]  i.  e.  wened,  thought. 

816  holde]  i.  e.  suppose. 

820  As  wyse  as  a  drake]  The  similar  saying  «  as  wise  as  a  duk  » 

occurs  in  a   poem   in  Addl.   MS.   5465,   quoted   in   Dyce's 
Skelton,  ii.  246. 

821  classhe]  The  form  «  closshe  »  would  of  course  come  nearer  to 

riming,  but  the  word  has  a  in  11.  631,  804. 

824  brat]  i.  e.  cloak,  often  used  contemptuously  for  a  mere  rag.  Cf. 
N.E.D.  «  1525  More  Supplic.  Souls,  Wks.  337/2.  There  is  none 
so  poore  as  we,  yl  haue  not  a  bratte  to  put  on  our  backes  ». 

828  one]  read  probably  ane  or  ain,  the  northern  form,  for  the  sake  of 
the  rime. 


59 

829  game]  read  probably  gaine  (cf.  1.  855). 

837  me]  Perhaps  intended  to  indicate  Colehazard's  French  manner  of 

speech  :  he  had  come  from  beyond  the  sea  (1.  763).  The  use  is 
of  course  traditional  in  French-English. 

838  make  comparison]  Cf.  note  on  1.  897. 

840  occupye]  i.  e.  carry  on  trade. 

841  incredence]  read  in  credence  (i.  e.  in  credit). 

842  be  truste]  i.  e.  betruste,  ppl.  of  vb.  betrust  =  trust.  N.E.D. 

gives  c.  1440  Generydes  3615  «  He  was  right  weel  betrost 
both  ferr  and  neere  »,  and  before  1577  Gascoigne,  Works 
(1587)  114  «  Not  best  betrust  among  the  worthyes  nine  ».  It 
may  be  noted  that  elsewhere  «  truste  »  and  « lyst  »  (cf.  1.  843) 
are  both  rimed  with  «  best »,  see  11.  111-2,  246-7.  If,  however, 
•  we  suppose  the  correct  form  here  to  be  «  betreste  »,  1.  844 
will  require  emendation,  for  «  meste  »,  is  impossible.  It  is 
tempting  to  transfer  «  then  »  to  the  end  of  the  line,  perhaps 
rejecting  line  841  as  an  interpolation. 

845  To  conuaye  vnder  coloure]  i.  e.  probably  to  steal  in  secret  ways 
—  but  the  phrase  is  rather  peculiar  in  any  case. 

849  state]  i.  e.  person  of  rank. 

853  lyned]  read  lyued. 

859  you]  read  your. 

866  se]  i.  e.  saw.  Cf.  note  on  1.  416. 

866  this  seuen  nyghtes  daye]  i.  e.  [since]  this  day  a  week  ago.  Cf. 
Club  Law,  ed.  Moore  Smith,  11.  1730-1,  «  I  have  not  scene 
him  this  3.  yearesdaye».  Prof.  Moore  Smith  quotes  2 Hen.  VI, 
II.  i.  2.  Cf.  also  Jests  of  the  Widow  Edyth,  in  Hazlitt's  Sh. 
Jest-Books,  in.  65  «  if  that  I  be  furth  a  Monethes  day  »,  i.  e. 
«  if  I  am  absent  for  a  month  ». 

869  sorsake]  read  forsake. 

869  trybulacyou]  read  trybulacyon. 

876  Tbou]  read  Thou. 


60 

876  come]  possibly  eome 

876  marshallsee]  A  prison  in  Southwark  under  the  control  of  the 

Knight  Marshal  and  used  primarily  for  offenders  within  the 
limits  or  «  verge  »  of  the  Court,  or  for  those  whose  offence 
touched  the  Court  in  any  way.  Many  others,  however,  espe 
cially  debtors,  seem  to  have  been  confined  there. 

877  hys  hayre  groweth  thorow  his  node]  i.  e.  ?  he  is  in  rags.  Cf. 

Nice  Wanton  in  Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  ii.  169,  where  Iniquity  is 
casting  dice,  and  Ismael  says,  «  If  ye  use  it  long,  your  hair 
will  grow  through  your  hood»,  i.e.  apparently,  it  will  ruin  you. 

878  wome]  read  wonne. 

880  channged]  read  chaunged. 

886  beare  me  a  cloute]  i.  e.  take  a  blow  from  me  ;  I  will  give  you  a 
blow.  Perhaps  here,  as  not  infrequently,  there  is  a  jest  on  the 
other  sense  of  «  clout  »,  namely  cloth,  rag. 

886  mifrul]  read  misrul. 

888  saynt  Hewe]  Presumably  Saint  Hugh  of  Avalon  (11359-1200), 
bishop  of  Lincoln  1186-1200,  where  he  rebuilt  the  greater  part 
of  the  cathedral.  His  shrine  there  was  much  visited  (D.N.B.). 
For  an  apocryphal  account  of  Saint  Hugh  see  Deloney's  Gentle 
Craft,  ed.  Lange,  i.  4-29. 

890  knawe]  Cf.  note  on  1.  123. 

897  make  comparyson]  The  phrase  usually  means  no  more  than 
«  compare  »,  or  «  compare  oneself  »  (as  in  1.  838).  Here  how 
ever  there  seems  to  be  an  idea  of  «  contend  with  ».  Cf.  N.E.D. 
s.  v.  comparison  7  «  1535  Stewart  Chron.  Scot.  (1858)  I.  25 
Malice,  discord,  pryde  and  comparesone  ».  The  word  is 
explained  as  «  ?  rivalry,  contention  ». 

900  shone]  i.  e.  shoes. 

902-3  He  hath  soche  a  dysease  in  hys  knee  He  can  not  chaunce  a 
man  groate]  Read  perhaps  «  can  not  chaunge  a  man  a  groate  » 
—  a  stock  phrase  equivalent  to  «  is  a  beggar  »  ;  but  the 
connection  of  this  line  with  the  one  which  precedes  it  is  in 
any  case  not  clear.  The  word  «  groate  »  has  no  rime,  and  there 
is  perhaps  an  error. 


61 

906  mine]  Apparently  intended  to  rime  with  «  wene  »,  which  seems 
impossible  in  any  dialect. 

914  plette]  Apparently  a  variant  of  «  plete  »,  a  form  of «  plead  »,  see 
N.E.D.  ;  but  I  can  find  no  authority  for  the  short  vowel, 
whether  e  or,  as  the  rime  demands,  /.  In  the  Towneley  Plays, 
106.  204  and  287.  248  the  word  rimes  with  «  great  »  and 
«  treat  ». 

917  a]  read  probably  am. 

917  fortune  is  my  foo]  In  the  later  sixteenth  century  this  phrase 
appears  almost  invariably  to  allude  to  the  famous  song  begin 
ning  «  Fortune  my  foe,  why  dost  thou  frown  on  me  ?  »  (see 
Chappell,  Popular  Music,  pp.  162-4),  but  it  was  probably  a 
common  phrase  at  a  much  earlier  date.  Cf.  Digby  Mysteries, 
ed.  Furnivall,  p.  3  (Candlemas  Day),  1.  60  «  ffortune  I  fynde 
that  she  is  not  my  ffoo  »,  and  the  Bassus  (Song-Book)  of 
W.  de  Worde,  1530,  A2,  «  what  fors  I  then  ?  thowgh  fortune 
be  my  foo  »  (R.  Imelmann  in  Sh.  Jahrb.  xxxix.  125,  and 
Chambers  and  Sidgwick,  E.  E.  Lyrics,  Ixxxviii.  11). 

919  captiues]  ?  read  caytiues ;  but  the  two  words,  or  forms  of  the 

word,  were  not  always  kept  distinct. 

920  y]  ready. 
922  aud]  read  and. 

926  doth  blowe  hys  home]  «  to  put  (denounce)  to  the  horn  »  signified 
in  Scotland  to  declare  a  man  to  be  an  outlaw  —  from  the 
ceremony  with  which  this  was  accompanied,  see  N.E.D.  s.  v. 
horn  14.  Possibly  we  have  here  some  allusion  to  the  phrase. 

929  occupye]  Cf.  1.  840. 

933  Of  a  good...  begTning  cometh  a  good  endig]  The  phrase  was 
proverbial,  at  any  rate  later ;  but  I  have  met  with  no  other 
early  example. 

936  a  syte]  read  asyte,  i.  e.  accite,  summon. 

936-7  appeare...  wherefore]  Apparently  an  impossible  rime  in  any 
dialect. 

938  be  greate]  ?  read  be  a  greate. 


62 

942  like]  No  rime.  A  line  is  perhaps  wanting. 

943  Isclaunder]  read  I  sclaunder. 

944  secule]  ?  read  secure. 

947  optayne]  A  frequent  form  of  «  obtain  ». 

947  all  thynge]  The  use  of  the  singular  «  thing  »  with  «  all  »  was  not 
uncommon  :  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  all  A3. 

951  wronge]  The  northern  «  wrange  »  would  rime. 

952  can.  both]  read  can  both. 

953  he  were  better  be  styll]   Perhaps  accidentally  repeated  from 

1.  950.  Indeed  the  whole  line  is  superfluous. 

954  pastaunce]  i.  e.  recreation. 

956  ther  with]  The  space  is  doubtful. 
958  caytyfe]  possibly  caytyte 

960  a,  C.  li.]  read  a.  C.  li. 

961  Open  synne  must  haue  open  penaunce]  This  looks  like  a  pro 

verbial  saying,  but  I  cannot  quote  any  other  example. 

963  with  a  very  myschaunce]  «  With  mischance  »  =  deuce  take  it, 

was  a  not  uncommon  imprecation,  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  mischance 
3  b.  «  Very  »  is  merely  intensive,  cf.  Skelton's  Magnificence, 
1.  502  «  God  gyue  you  a  very  myschaunce  !  »  (N.E.D.),  and 
the  phrase  «  with  a  verie  vengeaunce  »  (Nashe,  ed.  McKerrow, 
ii.  319.  11-12). 

964  homely]  i.  e.  without  ceremony,  as  if  you  were  in  your  own 

house. 

967  sclaunde]  read  sclaundre  or  sclaunder. 

969  aduantrye]  This  is  a  possible  form  for  the  word  «  avauntry  », 

which  is  used  in  the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  in  the 
sense  of  «  boasting  ».  It  seems,  however,  almost  certain  that 
it  is  here  merely  a  misprint  for  «  aduoutry  »,  i.  e.  adultery,  cf. 
1.  1034. 

970  by]  i.  e.  about,  with  reference  to. 


63 

978  of]  read  if. 

979  you.  what]  Possibly  the  stop  is  a  broken  comma. 
979  thed]  read  then. 

982  put  vp]  i.  e.  brought  before  the  magistrate,  accused  ;  see  N.E.D. 
put  vl  53  i.  Examples  from  c.  1440  to  1541. 

982  of  malice]  i.  e.  maliciously. 

985  gamercy]  read  gramercy. 

989  them  fayth  the  somuer]  read  then  sayth  the  somner. 

992-3  done...  agayne]  No  rime.  Bang  suggests  «  do  »  (cf.  11.  28-9)... 
mo  (=  more). 

996  into]  i.  e.  vnto  :  cf.  N.E.D.  s.  v.  into  16. 

997  relesse]  A  frequent  form  of  «  release  »  :  examples  in  N.E.D.  to 

c.  1530. 

1006  hys]  read  thys. 

1007  playne  expresse]  i.e.?  plainly  and  definitely. 
1011  put  vp]  cf.  note  on  1.  982. 

101 1  sute  of  offyce]  Probably  similar  to  an  «  inquest  of  office  »  which 
is  explained  as  an  enquiry  made  by  the  king's  officers...  or 
by  commissioners  specially  appointed,  concerning  any  matter 
that  intitles  the  king  to  the  possession  of  lands  or  tenements, 
goods  or  chattels  ». 

1013  credable]  The  N.E.D.  has  examples  of  «  credible  »  as  applied 
to  persons  from  1502. 

1015-16  respecte...  boke]  No  rime.  Bang  suggests  «texte»  for  «boke». 

1018  called]  i.  e.  callet  :  the  word  was  almost  always  applied  to  a 
female  in  the  sense  of  «  strumpet »,  or  more  vaguely,  « scold  ». 

1023  backekyters]  read  backebyters. 

1024  vsures]  ?  read  vsurers. 

1025  Bandes]  read  Baudes. 

1025  echeters]  Apparently  this  must  be  either  «  achatours  »  i.  e. 


64 

persons  who  purchased  provisions  &c.  for  the  royal  house 
hold,  or  «  escheators  »  i.  e.  officials  appointed  to  keep  watch 
upon  cases  in  which  land  lapsed  to  the  king  by  «  escheat  » 
(e.  g.  for  want  of  an  heir  and  for  certain  other  causes).  In 
form  it  rather  resembles  «  achatours  »,  but  this  does  not 
seem  ever  to  have  been  used  in  a  bad  sense.  «  Escheat  »,  is 
however  in  1577  used  in  the  sense  of  spoil  or  plunder  (N.E.D. 
s.  v.  escheat  sb:  II  6),  while  «  cheat  »  is  found  with  the  same 
meaning  some  ten  years  earlier,  and  «  cheater  »  for  a  dis 
honest  gamester  in  1532. 

1033  redemeth]  The  -eth  termination  of  plural  of  the  present  tense  is 
of  course  one  of  the  chief  marks  of  Southern  English.  The 
absence  of  any  direct  object  to  the  verb  is,  however,  sus 
picious,  and  there  may  be  some  error.  The  most  obvious 
emendation  would,  I  think,  be  to  read  «  redeme  them  »  (i.  e. 
the  many  offences) ;  paraphrasing  as  «  ye  make  him  do  no 
penance,  but  make  him  redeem  his  sins  with  money  and  let 
him  go  ». 

1035  is]  read  his. 

1036  syluer  hoke]  The  meaning  is  obviously  «  with  a  bribe  ».  Cf. 

Return  from  Parnassus,  Part  ii,  II.  v.  764  (ed.  Macray), 
«  I  see  we  schollers  fish  for  a  liuing  in  these  shallow  foardes 
without  a  siluer  hoock  ».  Possibly  the  phrase  may  have  been 
suggested  by  the  saying  «  auro  piscari  hamo  »,  which,  how 
ever,  had  a  different  meaning  —  to  risk  much  for  a  small 
chance  of  gain. 

1042  laye  a  strawe]  i.  e.  to  put  in  a  mark,  as  into  a  book  to  keep 

one's  place ;  hence,  to  pause.  Cf.  Deloney,  Gentle  Craft,  ed. 
Lange,  ii.  28,  «  Nay,  soft,  there  lay  a  straw  for  feare  of 
stumbling  »  —  the  speaker  is  refusing  to  tell  the  whole  of  a 
story  which  he  has  begun,  on  the  ground  that  the  person  to 
whom  he  is  talking  has  heard  enough. 

1043  a]  i.  e.  of. 

1045  But  punysshed]  i.  e.  But  he  is  punished.  The  grammar  is  very 
loose. 

1047  Heshalbe]  read  He  shalbe. 


65 

1048  obstynaunt]  The  N.E.D.  has  no  example  of  this  form  as  an 
adjective.  As  a  substantive  «  obstinant  »  (=  an  obstinate 
person)  is  found  in  1581. 

1054  By  thynel  Bang  suggests  «  By  this !  Thyne  »,  or  the  omission  of 
«  By  ». 

1057  at  your  reformacyon]  i.  e.  according  to  your  directions.  «  Under 
the...  Reformacion  of  »  (—  under  the  control  of)  is  found  in 
1523  (N.E.D.),  but  I  have  come  across  no  exact  parallel  to 
the  present  phrase.  For  the  use  of  «  at  »  compare  such 
phrases  us  «  at  your  will  »,  «  at  your  demand  ». 

1060  perers]  Presumably  standing  for  perys(i.  e.  pieris,  the  northern 
plural  of  peer)  —  to  rime  with  «  erys  »  :  cf.  «  peiris  »  (riming 
to  yeiris,  years)  in  Lindsay,  ed.  Laing,  i.  51.  215. 

1062  cu  sancto  sanctus  erys]  Psalm  17.  26. 

1069  your  oratour]  i.  e.  beadsman  :  I  shall  pray  for  you  (not  to  you). 
Curiously  enough,  this  sense  does  not  seem  to  be  recognised 
in  the  N.E.D. ,  though  these  are  innumerable  examples  of  it, 
especially  in  such  phrases  as  «  I  shall  be  your  daily  orator 
while  I  live  »  a  frequent  termination  to  letters  or  formal 
addresses.  This  certainly  does  not  mean  that  the  suppliant 
intends  to  beg  from  the  person  to  whom  he  writes  every  day 
for  the  rest  of  his  life,  but  that  he  intends  to  pray  for  him 
every  day. 

1077  supportacyon]  i.  e.  assistance.  The  word  is  used  by  Lindsay, 
Three  Estates,  1.  3348  (Laing),  and  Skelton,  Magnificence,  62. 

1084  that]  read  perhaps  the  (y  misread  as  y). 

1085-90]  It  seems  fairly  evident  that  this  passage  has  been  roughly 
amended  to  fit  it  to  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  but  it  is  impossible, 
I  think,  to  attempt  any  reconstruction  of  the  original.  The 
last  two  lines  look  like  a  prayer  for  royal  issue  (transferred 
from  the  sovereigns  to  the  queen's  «  consanguynyte  »),  and 
hence  suggest  that  the  play,  or  this  passage  at  least,  dates 
from  the  time  of  Philip  "and  Mary.  The  «  them  »  in  1.  1090 
was  presumably  retained  by  an  oversight. 

1086  preclare]  i.  e.  illustrious.  The  N.E.D.  gives  three  examples  of 


66 

the  word  up  to  1535  and  two  more  to  1596,  all  from  Scottish 
texts,  to  which  may  be  added  Lindsay's  Dream,  1.  591  and 
several  others  from  the  Bannatyne  Miscellany,  but  it  would 
be  hazardous  to  assume  that  a  word  which  is  merely  an 
anglicized  form  of  a  common  Latin  one  was  confined  to  the 
North. 

1090  most  chrysten  realme]  Bang  remarks  on  the  use  of  the  phrase, 
which  one  would  rather  expect  to  find  applied  to  France  (of 
course  by  a  Frenchman)  than  to  England.  The  title  «  Rex 
Christianissimus  »  which  had  been  conferred  upon  Charles- 
Martel  by  Gregory  II,  was  used  as  part  of  the  official  title  by 
Francis  I  and  his  successors.  I  cannot  learn  that  it  was  used 
by  Elizabeth.  Bang  also  calls  attention  to  the  omission  of  any 
prayer  for  the  council,  or  for  the  other  estates  of  the  realm. 
The  council,  at  least,  was  usually  mentioned  in  such  prayers 
as  this. 

1090  realme]  The  «  1  »  was  not  pronounced  and  the  word  may  there 

fore  have  been  intended  to  rime  (or  assonate)  with  obtayne. 

1091  onypotent]  Probably  a  mere  misprint  for  «  omnypotent  ». 
1096  blesse]  i.  e.  bliss  (:  excelsis).  The  spelling  is  not  uncommon. 

1099  enterlute]  The  form  in  -te  is  recognized  by  the  N.E.D.,  and  is 
not  to  be  regarded  as  a  misprint. 

The  upper  of  the  two  ornaments,  consisting  of  two  birds  with 
flowers  &c.,  occurs  also  at  the  end  of  Waley's  edition  of  Youth.  Here, 
as  well  as  there,  it  is  printed  upside  down. 

The  lower  one  has  the  mark  of  the  printer  Thomas  Petit. 


INDEX. 


References  to  words  on  which  there  is  a  note  adding  anything  to  the  explanations 
given  here  are  in  heavy  type. 

The  sign  :  when  within  a  parenthesis  means  «  riming  with  ». 
Minor  variations  in  spelling  are  neglected. 


a  (ah)  73 

a  (of)  1043 

Achab  (Ahab,  383 

a  doo  565 

aduantrye  969 

a  late  876 

a  lyue  277 

amyte  (amity)  45 

and  (if)  42,  129,  652,  <&c. 

apayed,  -de  (pleased)  238,  688 

a  syte  936 

auant  548 

auayle,  for  myne  *6* 

auowe,  sb.,  133 

auoydaunce  990 

ball,  «  with  the  strongest  part  renneth 

the  b.  »  365 
be  (been)  4 14,  415 
beare,  see  cloute 
because,  see  bycause 
become,  «  where  is  peace  become  »  75 
beglning,  «  of  a  good  b.  cometh  a  good 

endlg  933 
behoued,  was  a  5 
benynge  (benign)  *1O 
betake  (entrust)  744 
betruste  84* 

blesse  (:  excelsis,  =  bliss)  1096 
blow,  bere  me  a  55 
bonum  exemplum  443 
bonus  pastor  ouium  446,  451 
borde,  brynge  vnder  599 
bore  (born)  548,  768 
bowyer  (bow-maker)  30 
braggar  745 


brat  <cloak)  8*4 

butonely  *17 

by  (for)  127  :  (of,  about)  466,  555,  970 

by  and  by  (at  once)  27,  61 

bycause  (?  on  condition  that)  *83 

called  (calletj  1O18 

capt}fe(?caytyfe)917 

caylles  **6 

Chadde,  saynt  754 

cliecke  mate  *3O 

chopte  (hit)  421 

chorle  (churl)  129 

classhe  631,  804,  821 

clocke  (cloak)  449 

cloute,  «  beare  me  a  c.  »  886 

Colehassarde  763,  &c. 

coloure,  see  conuaye 

commodum,  see  synguler 

comparison,  to  make  838,  897 

consanguynite  553,  1088 

conuaye  vnder  coloure  843 

cosyn  (:  passyon)  55* 

coueteouse,  sb..  441 

counsell,  in  635 

course,  to  haue  46 

coxs  bones,  for  870 

coxs  face,  for  1O3 

coxs  passion,  by  535,  551,  715 

credable  (trustworthy)  1O18 

credence,  «  to  be  incredence  wyth  »  841 

dampned  335 

dashe  (?  inter j.)  697 

daye,  «  this  seuen  nyghtes  d.  »  866 

dayes,  dearer  for  3*9  :  for  longed. 280 


68 


delayaunce 

denayde  118 

departynge  (parting)  508 

dere,  «  b>  goddes  d.  blest  »  106 

deyte  (deity)  1094 

doo  (:  goo,  -—  done)  568  ;  cf.  99«-3 

dotage,  set  you  at  665 

drake,  as  wyse  as  a  82O 

drawe  (drawn)  479 

dysdayne  (hatred)  527,  579 

dysease (annoyance)  167 

echeters  io«5 
employed  1* 

enduce  (try  to  persuade)  16  a 

entente    (thing    intended)    123,    1081    : 

(endeavour)  59O  :  (desire)  678 
enterlute  1O99 
equite  335 

trly  and  late  39,  213 
-eth  terminations  in  plural,  3*»,  1O33 
expresse,  see  playrie 

face,  vb.  747 

falsshed  483 

fayte,  in  414 

fenix  20 

flee  (fl>),  vb.,  755 

floure  delyce  (name  of  inn)  759 

forfende  336 

fortune  is  my  foo  9 1 7 

fortuneste  54O 

Frenshe  rounde  695 

full  euen  198 

garded  (ornamented)  764 

go,  to  418 

Goddes  brede  188,  719 

God  wyl  str>ke  when  he  lyst  409 

goo  (:  doo)  567 

good  (goods,  wealth)  359,  578,  605,  878 

good,  by  178 

gouernacion  203 

greuaunce,  taketh  956 

groate,  «  chaunce  (?  chaunge)  a  man  g.  » 

9O3 

guyse  (manner)  495 


Haboundaunce  £45,  &c. 

had  I  wyst,  beware  of  7O1 

haly  dome  36 

harde  (heard)  176 

hardelye  (boldly)  438 

haskarde  558 

hassarde  «3O 

hassarders  803 

haueat  51*,  9693 

haue  with  779 

hayre,   «   hys  h.  groweth    thorow    his 

hode  »  878 
hele,  «  Her  h.  were  not  so  brode  as  an 

ynche  663 
Helias  (Elijah)  383 
Hewe,  saynt  888 
holde  (believe)  816 
holdest  on  his  opynion  186 
homely  (unceremoniously)  964 
homysedes  1024 
hoo  (ho !)  178 
hood,  see  hayre 
hook,  see  syluer 
home,  «  blowe  hys  h.  on  » 

lame,  saynt  56O 
illumyne  4 
incroke  4«o 
innocent,  sb.,  2 
insure  (assure)  4O2 
lone  619 
iurers,  false.  1023 

kepe  kepe  1O3 

kepte  (?  got)  338 

knaue,  «  go  a  k.  awaye  »  94 

knawe  (know)  lao  ;  cf.  215 

knawe  (knave)  l«3,  128,  890. 

lady  of  wolpit  81 
layne  (conceal)  £49 
lefull  (lawful)  1018 
lengthe,  vb.,  683 
lese  (lose)  381 
let  (pretend)  176 
lorel  (rogue)  713,  895 
luker  (lucre)  327 


69 


Lydgate  quoted  95-101 

lysi  246,  409 

lyue,  on  (:  stryfe)  556 

make  bate  83 

marchandy  *79 

marshallsee  87O 

me  (?  1)83  7 

me,  «  bere  me  a  blow  >  54  : «...  a  cloute  » 

886 

mede  (reward)  669 
medlynge,  «  in  lyttle  m.  standeth  great 

rest  »  108 
mell  (have  to  do)  318 
mete  wyth  93 
mucker  vp  (heap  up)  399 
mutton  O9* 
myscheue,  vb.,  ** 
mysorderynge  494 
myswomen  **7 

nere  (nearer)  89 

nesshe  (tender)  778 

neuer  the  more  603 

newe  yere,  see  yere 

Newgate  84,  716 

nose,  «  go  by  his  n.  »  115 

nother,  a  O7» 

n>ce  63* 

n>e  553 

obstynaunt  1O48 

obta>ne  (profit)  34 

occidentall  793 

occupye  84O,  929  :  o.  vsurye  3*1 

of  (off)  685 

of  (on)  8* 

of,  «  truste  me  of  a  peny  »  159  :  «  of 

malyce  »  982 

off>ce,  suteof  ion,  1012 
omnium  quare  79 
one  (? :  gained  8*8 
ony  potent  1091 
optayne  947 

or  (before)  181,  218,  779,  932 
oratour  1000 

parteners  832 


party  8 

pastaunce  (recreation'  954 

peached  (impeached;  379 

peccatum,  «  non  dimittitur  p.  nisi  resti- 
tuatur  ablatum  »  358-4 

penny,  the  thyrde  3O4 

perers  (:  erys,  =  peers)  lotto 

perseueraunt  (enduring)  533 

phoenix  20 

playe,  kepe  you  7*« 

playne  expresse  1007 

plentifull  (liberal)  *33 

plette  (plead)  914 

plunged  (overwhelmed)  4 OS 

plyght  (assure)  141 

preclare  IOHO 

precyous,  «  p.  horson  »  13* 

pretende  (?  attempt)  395 

prety  657 

promocyon  (advantage)  51  :  (?  infor 
ming)  483 

promote  of  49O 

pr>ueledge,  wryte  of  1 14 

put  case  (suppose)  185 

put  vp  (accuse)  OH*;  1011 

pynche,  at  a  O61 

pynne,  «  sette  on  a  mery  p.  »  0 1 3 

quest  (jur>)  380 

quyte  (quit,  free)  940,  984 

quod  a  276 

rane  («  raue  »)  38O  :  see  run 

realme(9:obtayne),  most  chrysten  looo 

reformacyon,  at  >our  1057 

relesse  (release)  o»7 

remembraunce,  take  205 

remorde,  vb.,  95 

renneth  (runs)  365 

repentaunce,  take  204 

reprefe,  sb.,  98 

repugne  57,  953 

rested  (arrested)  1O5 

resydence,  kepte  your  491 

reuenged  (:  wolpit)  8O 

rofe,  «  make  a  sure  foundacyon,  or  ye 

set  vp  the  rofe  »  932 
rounde (dance)  695 


70 


route,  vb.,  371 

run,  «  on  hys  syde  ranne  the  losse  »  822  : 

see  rane 

russhe  vp  mutton  692 
rutterkyn  6O8 
rydde  (:  head)  721 
rysshe  (:  fleshe),  set  not  a  127 

sclaunde  (slander)  967 

se  (saw)  4 1C,  866 

sempiternal  3 

sentence  315 

set  (cafe)  127,  558 

shone  (shoes)  9OO 

shorter  tyde  91 

shuls  (shouldest)  54 

slewth  (sloth)  457 

sothe  (truth)  375 

soule,  «  when  thou  seest  my  s.  tome  set 

on  a  cloute  »  37O 
sowdyer  (soldier)  31 
spat  (blow)  4585 
spyll,  spylte  (done  for)  362,  360 
state  (person  of  rank)  849 
statute  marchaunte  282 
strawe,  laye  a  1O42  :  not  worth  a  s.  41 
subchauntere  OO9 
substaunce,  man  4  1043 
sufficyence  313 
suffraunce  209 
supportacyon  1O77 
sute  of  offyce  ion 
syluer  hoke,  1O36,  1037 
synguler  commodum  272 
synne,  «  open  s.  must  haue  open  pen- 

aunce  »  961 
sysmatykes  1024 

take  repentaunce  2O4  :  t.  remembraunce 
205  :  t.  greuaunce  956. 


that  (how,  exclam.)  6  20 

themporaltye  456 

there  (whereas)  486 

thertho  (?  therto)  135 

they  (thy)  118 

theym  (them)  28O,  355,  455,  461,  521 

tho  (they)  29 

thornes,  s>t  on  788 

thought  (though)  267 

thyncke  longe  774  :  thought  longe  642 

thynge,  all  947 

trace  (track),  sb.,  100 

trason  379 

truste  (:  best,  =  trusted)  111 

truste  (:  bcste),  best  in  574 

truste,  be,  see  betruste 

tryet  (tried)  135 

Tyborne,  the  5O1 

usurers,  tricks  of,  253,  &c. 

very,  «  with  a  v.  myschaunce  »  963 
vndone  (:  tho)  28 
vniuersall  people,  the  34 
vpholde  (upheld)  319 
vppon  enuy  452 
vsed  (:  refuse  it)  268 

warke  (work)  797 

wente  (wened)  815 

whyst,  inter j.,  639 

with,  wyth  (by)  12,  244,  440,  737. 

wolpit,  our  lady  of  81 

wronge  (:  hange)  952 

wyll,  «  putteth  his  w.  thereto  »  474 

ybounde  570 

yere,  «  in  the  worshyp  of  the  newe  y.  » 
691 


Materialien   zur   Kunde 

des 
alteren   Englischen    Dramas 


JHaterialien  zar  Kunde 

des  alteren  Englisehen  Dramas 

UNTER  M1TWIRKUNG  DER  HERREN 


F.  S.  Boas-LoNDON,  A.  Brandl-BERLiN,  R.  Brotanek-PRAG,  F.  I.  Carpenter- 
CHICAGO,  Ch.  Crawford-LoNDON,  G.  B.  Churchill-AMHERST,  W.  Creizenach- 
KRAKAU,  E.  Eckhardt-pREiBURG  i.  B.,  A.  Feuillerat-ReNNES,  R.  Fischer- 
INNSBRUCK,  W.W.  Greg-LoNDON,  F.  Holthausen-KiEL,  J.  Hoops-HEiDELBERG, 
W.  Keller- MUNSTER,  R.  B.  Me  Kerrow- LONDON,  G.  L.  Kittredge-CAMBRiDGE, 
MASS.,  E.  Koeppel-SiRASSBURG,  J.  Le  Gay  Brereton-SiDNEY,  H.  Logeman- 
GENT,  J.  M.  Manly-CniCAGO,  G.  Sarrazin-BRESLAU,  t  L-  Proescholdt-pRiED- 
RICHSDORF,  A.  Schroer-CoLN,  G.  C.  Moore  Smith-SnEFFiELD,  G.  Gregory 
Smith-BELFAST,  A.  E.  H.  Swaen-GRONiNGEN,  A.  H.  Thorndike-NEW-YoRK, 
f  A.  Wagner-HALLE  A.  S. 

BEGRUENDET  UND    HERAUSGEGEBEN 


VON 


W.  BANG 

o.  6.  Professor  der  Englisehen  Philologie  an  der  Universitat  Louvain 


FUNF  UND  DREISSIGSTER  BAND 


LotrVAiN 
A.  UYSTPRUYST 


LEIPZIG 


O.  HARRASSOWITZ 


LONDON 

DAVID  NUTT 


IQI2 


HOW 


A  MAN  MAY  CHUSE 


A  GOOD  WIFE  FROM  A  BAD 


EDITED 


BY 


A.  E.  H    SWAEN 


LOUVAIK 
A.  UYSTPRUYST 

LEIPZIG 


o.  HARRASSOWITZ 


DAVID  NUTt 


IQI2 


INTRODUCTION. 

TEXT.  The  present  edition  is  printed  from  a  photographic 
reproduction  on  the  rotary  bromide  system  of  the  copy  in  the 
British  Museum  bearing  the  press-mark  C.  34.  b.  53.  This  copy 
is  a  very  good  and  clear  one,  except  in  two  places,  and  even 
there  the  indistinctness  is  of  little  significance.  I  have  edited 
this  text  merely  because  it  is  the  oldest  extant,  not  because  it 
is  the  best.  The  text  of  the  edition  of  1608  is  often  more  cor 
rect,  whilst  the  number  of  new  mistakes  is  unimportant.  To 
enable  the  reader  to  make  comparisons  for  himself  I  have 
printed  all  the  important  variants  of  the  second  quarto  from  a 
well  preserved  copy  in  the  Royal  Library  at  the  Hague.  I  have 
named  the  quartos  of  1602  and  1608  A  and  B. 

The  two  passages  in  the  A  text  that  cannot  be  read  distinctly 
in  the  British  Museum  copy  I  have  printed  from  the  B  text, 
as  indicated  in  the  notes.  —  Misprints  in  the  original  have  been 
retained  ;  in  fact,  the  present  edition  is  a  faithful  reprint  of 
the  original  with  this  immaterial  exception  that  s  has  been 
substituted  for  f.  At  the  end  of  this  introduction  will  be  found 
a  list  of  irregular  and  doubtful  readings. 

W.  Carew  Hazlitt  in  «  A  Manual  for  the  Collector  and  Ama 
teur  of  Old  English  Plays,  1892  »  says  on  p.  no,  after  men 
tioning  quartos  of  1602,  i6o5,  1621,  i63o  and  1634,  «  editions  of 
1608  and  1614  have  also  been  mentioned  ;  but  I  have  never 
seen  the  latter,  and  the  only  one  of  1608,  with  which  I  have 
met,  has  had  the  last  figure  of  the  date  altered  with  the  pen.  » 
Hazlitt  is  mistaken  here  :  I  have  before  me  a  copy  of  1608 
with  an  8  that  has  not  been  tampered  with.  The  copy  in  the 
British  Museum  Library  catalogued  with  date  of  publication 
as  i6o5  is  a  defective  one,  the  title  and  leaves  up  to  B  being 
wanting.  It  begins  at  <iMis.  Ar.  Make  haste  »  and  shows  a  text 
which  is  neither  A  nor  B  ;  for  example  : 

B  verso  1602.      Do  you  not  heare,  she  would  inforce  her  hart, 
All  mirth  is  forct  that  she  can  make  with  me. 


VI 

B  verso  i6o5  (?)  Doe  you  not  heare?  she  would  inforce  her  hart 
All  mirth  is  forc'd,  that  she  can  make  with  me. 
B  verso  1608.      Do  you  not  heare?  shee  would  inforse  her  heart 
All  mirth  is  forc'd,  that  she  can  make  with  me 
E  3     1602  I  pray  you  wheres  your  husband  ? 

E  3     i6o5  Where's  your  husband  I  pray  ? 

E  3     1608  Wher's  your  husband  I  pray  ? 

I  have  not  succeeded  in  finding  a  copy  bearing  i6o5  on  the 
title-page,  but  have  no  doubt  that  Hazlitt  had  seen  one;  in  that 
case  the  fragment  in  the  British  Museum  may  belong  to  that 
edition.  As  regards  the  edition  of  1614,  the  kindness  of  the 
Librarian  of  the  Bodleian  at  Oxford  enables  me  to  state  that 
there  is  a  copy  of  it  in  that  library.  The  edition  of  1621  is  print 
ed  a  little  more  spaciously,  the  result  being  that  there  are  a 
few  lines  more  on  the  last  page.  The  variants  are  unimportant, 
as  far  as  I  could  see  on  a  superficial  inspection.  In  modernized 
garb  the  play  appeared  in  Hazlitt's  edition  of  Dodsley's  Old 
English  Plays,  Vol.  IX.  To  resume,  we  have  editions  of  1602, 
i6o5?,  1608,  1614,  1621,  i63o,  1634.  The  play  is  not  mentioned 
in  the  Stationers1  Registers  or  in  Henslowe's  Diary. 

THE  PLAY.  The  play  was  acted  by  « the  Earle  of  Worces- 
ters  seruants.  »  For  particulars  concerning  this  company  and 
the  plays  produced  by  it  I  refer  the  reader  to  Materialien  XIX  : 
H.  Maas,  Aussere  Geschichte  der  Englischen  T heater trupp en  in 
deni  Zeitraum  von  i55g  bis  1642,  pp.  89-90.  The  authors  who 
wrote  for  this  company  were  especially  Chettle,  Heywood 
and  Smith ;  also  Day,  Dekker,  Hathway,  Middleton,  and 
Webster.  Fleay,  Chronicles  of  the  English  Drama,  I  289-90 
rightly  observes  «  as  this  play  is  not  in  Henslowe's  l6o2-3  list 
of  Worcester's  men's  plays,  it  must  date  earlier  —  1601.  »  This 
leads  us  to  the  authorship  of  the  play.  On  very  insufficient 
grounds  —  on  the  strength  of  a  manuscript  note  —  it  has  been 
ascribed  to  John  Cooke  the  author  of  Green's  Tu  Quoque.  On 
the  title-page  of  the  British  Museum  copy  of  1602,  which  once 
belonged  to  David  Garrick,  there  is  in  ink  the  ascription 
«  Written  By  loshua  Cooke  »,  as  can  be  seen  in  the  facsimile 
in  this  edition.  Nothing  is  known  about  this  Joshua  Cooke, 
and  it  has  been  conjectured  that  Joshua  Cooke  stands  for 


VII 

John  Cooke.  There  is  not  a  trace  of  additional  evidence  that 
John  Cooke  or,  for  the  matter  of  that  Joshua  Cooke,  should 
be  the  author,  and  there  is  not  a  single  reason  why  the  play 
should  be  entered  in  the  catalogue  of  the  British  Museum 
under  the  name  of  Joshua  Cooke. 

Much  more  probable  is  Fleay's  surmise  that  Heywood  is  the 
writer.  I  quote  Fleay's  words  (Chronicles  of  the  English  Drama  I 
289-00)  :  «  Certainly  it  is  by  the  same  author  as  The  Wise 
Woman  of  Hogsdon  (W.  W.).  Compare  :  «  I  by  the  finger 
wrung,  »  I.  3  ;  «  I  wrung  twice  by  the  finger,  »  W.  W.,  V.  3  ; 
«  Whip  me  upon  the  quid  est  grammatica,  »  II,  i  ;  «  Quid  est 
grammatical  grammatica  est  ars,  «  W.  W.  IV.  i  ;  «  Quae  mart- 
bus,  that  loves  marrowbones,  »  II.  i  ;  «  Quae  maribns....  those 
marrowbones  »,  W.  W.  IV.  I ;  «  Iste,  ista,  istud....  until  he 
letcht  blood,  »  III,  I  ;  «  I  lie,  ilia,  tllud,  until  I  fetch  blood  », 
W.  W.,  IV,  i  ;  the  allusions  to  Gascoigne's  «  I  wail  in  woe,  I 
plunge  in  pain  »  II.  3  and  W.  vV.,  V.  3 ;  «  Quomodo  vales,  come 
out  of  the  alehouse  »  (i.  e.  quom  od  ov  ales)  II.  i  ;  «  Quomodo 
vales,  go  with  you  th'  alehouse.  »  W.  W.  II,  i,  &c,  &c.  Perhaps 
a  refashioning  of  A  Wonder  of  a  Woman,  the  Admiral's  play  of 
i5g5,  Oct.  i5.  The  Thomas  lately  come  from  beyond  the  sea 
II,  2.  [11.  79<>5]  is  an  equivoque  on  the  character  in  the  play 
and  Thomas  Blackwood,  the  actor,  who  had  returned  from 
abroad  1601.  The  «  one  Thomas  »  below  is  Heywood  himself. 
Dr.  Dee  is  mentioned  II,  I.  This  play  was  not  published  by 
Heywood.  Performed,  I  think,  at  the  Curtain  ».  The  points  of 
resemblance  mentioned  by  Fleay  are  certainly  very  striking, 
and  it  would  be  a  wonderful  coincidence  if  two  writers  had 
made  the  same  puns  on  Latin  phrases  taken  from  a  school- 
grammar.  There  are  two  possibilities  besides  that  of  common 
authorship  :  Heywood  may  have  copied  the  author  of  How  a 
Man  may  choose  in  The  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsdon  (probably 
1604)  *),  or  he  may  have  assisted  him.  There  are,  however, 
points  of  resemblance  between  our  play  and  some  of  Hey- 
wood's  which  make  the  former  possibility  very  improbable, 
and  leave  very  little  doubt  that  he  was  the  author,  I  may  add, 
the  sole  author,  for  there  are  no  traces  of  double  workman- 

l)  Few  will  doubt  that  this  play  is  by  Heywood.  Cf.  Cambridge  History 
of  English  Literature  VI,  99 ;  Ward,  Engl.  Dram.  Lit.  II,  674. 


VIII 

ship,  though  I  do  not  wish  to  insist  on  this  point.  It  is  more 
than  coincidence,  I  think,  that  in  both  plays  a  schoolmaster 
is  introduced  who  is  fond  of  using  Latin,  whose  Latin  is 
shaky,  and  who  morally  is  not  what  we  should  expect  of  a  man 
of  his  standing.  Sir  Boniface  assists  a  bawd,  Sir  Aminadab 
visits  one  and  is  in  love  with  a  woman  living  in  her  house.  In 
both  plays  some  one  distorts  Latin  and  gives  absurd  trans 
lations  of  Latin  phrases  to  ridicule  the  pedant.  Between  A 
Woman  Killed  with  Kindness  (i6o3?)  and  our  play  there  are 
also  some  points  of  agreement.  In  the  former  play  there  is  a 
patient  husband,  in  the  latter  a  patient  wife.  Both  in  A  Woman 
Killed  with  Kindness  and  in  The  English  Traveller  the  women 
sin  easily,  and  so  does  young  Arthur  in  our  play.  In  the  case 
of  Mrs.  Frankfort,  of  Mrs.  Wincott,  and  of  Young  Arthur,  we 
meet  the  same  unexplained  facility  with  which  the  sin  of 
adultery  is  committed.  In  all  three  cases  too,  the  conversions 
and  repentances  are  too  sudden.  Another  trait  in  common  is 
the  fondmess  of  contrasting  a  young  and  an  old  man  of  the 
same  name  :  Young  Lusam  and  Old  Lusam  in  our  play,  Young 
Geraldine  and  Old  Geraldine  in  The  English  Traveller.  Again 
there  is  in  How  a  Man  may  choose,  A  Woman  Killed,  The  Fairt 
Maid  of  the  Exchange,  and  The  English  Traveller,  the  same 
fondness  of  describing  meals  and  the  preparations  for  them 
together  with  a  kind  of  weakness  for  the  introduction  of  ser 
vants.  The  aversion  from  Puritans,  so  evident  in  our  play,  we 
find  again  in  A  Woman  Killed  IV,  3.  5o  :  «  You  talk  too  like  a 
Puritan»,  and  in  Britain's  Froy,  canto  IV,  st.  60-4.  Heywood 
writes  simple,  clear  English  and  is  fond  of  short  words,  just . 
like  the  author  of  our  play  *).  In  Heywood's  plays  and  in  How 
a  Man  may  choose  we  are  struck  by  the  simplicity  of  the  metre 
and  by  the  fondness  of  short  lines.  If  The  Captives;  or,  The  Lost 
Recovered  is  by  Heywood  2),  as  its  editor,  A.  H.  Bullen,  thinks, 

*)  Laura  A.  Hibbard  in  «  The  Authorship  'and  Date  of  the  Fayre  Maide 
of  the  Exchange  »  Modern  Philology  VII,  383  fF.,  speaks  of  Hey  wood's  «  Un 
imaginative  vocabulary  »  and  the  author  of  the  article  in  the  Dictionary  of 
National  Biography  says  :  like  all  the  Elizabethans  he  indulged  himself  in 
the  (  onsiru  tiou  of  out  of  the  way  phrases  and  vocables,  but  his  genius  did 
not  lie  in  the  direction  of  style.  »  —  For  Hey wood's  style  and  manner  cp. 
J.Addington  Symonds'  introduction  to  the  volume  in  the  Mermaid  series. 

2)  It  is  an  importai  t  fact  that  «  to  entire  »,  a  verb  characteristic  of  H,  (vide 
N.  E.  £>.),  occurs  in  The  Captives,  and  that  the  rare  adj.  mechal  is  found  in  The 
English  Traveller  and  in  The  Captives. 


we  have  another  instance  of  that  playwright's  aptness  to 
repeat  himself,  for  both  in  The  Captives  and  in  A  Woman  Kil 
led,  a  husband  rides  out  in  order  to  come  back  unexpectedly 
in  the  night  to  surprise  his  wife's  lover  in  one  case,  his  \vife 
and  her  lover  in  the  other. 

Just  as  in  A  Woman  Killed  we  have  a  patient  husband,  so 
we  have  a  patient  wife  in  How  a  Man  may  choose.  Heywood 
was  fond  of  describing  a  suffering  woman;  suffering  without 
her  fault  as  in  our  play,  or  owing  to  misbehaviour  as  in  The 
English  Traveller  and  A  Woman  Killed.  Adultery  is  a  favourite 
subject  with  him  :  cp.  The  English  Traveller,  A  Woman  Kil 
led,  Edward  IV,  How  a  Man  may  choose  ;  but  in  none  of  these 
sin  is  represented  in  attractive  colours.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
Heywood  is  a  moralist  ')  and  there  is  an  unmistakable  didac 
tic  tendency  in  these  four  plays.  He  likes  to  make  his  sinners 
repent  (Young  Arthur,  Mrs.  Frankfort,  Jane  Shore,  Mrs.  Win- 
cott).  The  Patient  Grissil  type  has  great  attractions  for  him 2), 
and  Mistress  Arthur  is  the  most  pathetic  of  Heywood's  women 
in  her  innocence  and  long-suffering.  The  pathos  in  our  play  is 
thoroughly  in  accordance  with  that  of  Heywood's  other  pieces. 
The  writer  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  says  :  « the 
simplicity  and  directness  of  his  pathos  are  even  more  distinc 
tive  of  his  dramatic  genius  ».  The  same  author's  words  about 
A  Woman  Killed  might  without  any  change  be  applied  to  our 
play  :  «  The  scene  of  this  piece  is  laid  in  contemporary  English 
middleclass  life,  which  none  of  our  dramatists  portrayed  more 
naturally.  »  Another  trait  very  characteristic  of  Heywood  is 
the  introduction  of  the  various  old  men,  Old  Arthur,  Old 
Lusam,  Anselme,  to  whom  we  may  add  Justice  Reason.  In 
speaking  of  Master  Flower  in  The  Fay  re  Maide  of  the  Exchange 
in  her  above  quoted  paper,  Laura  A.  Hibbard  says  :  «  But  it 
is  the  men  of  the  play  who  possess,  as  Heywood's  men  com 
monly  do,  much  more  distinctive  features.  In  Master  Flower, 
easy-going  and  somewhat  slow  of  wit,  there  is  special  likeness 

*)  That  Heywood  was  a  moralist  is  sufficiently  evident  from  The  Royal 
King  and  Loyal  Subject  and  from  the  fact  that  he  imitated  the  Epigrams  of  the 
Dutch  moralist  Jacob  Cats. 

2)  The  hero  of  The  Royal  King  and  the  Loyal  Subject  is  a  male  Patient  Gris 
sil. 


X 

to  those  old,  kindly,   and  much-abused  fathers,   whom  Hey- 

wood  loved  from  the  time  when  he  first  read  Plautus The 

whole  character  of  loveableness  and  simplicity  is  Flower's, 
dashed  with  a  bit  of  that  choleric  temper  which  Heywood,  at 
his  best,  could  do  so  well  ».  In  a  note  the  author  points  to  Sir 
Harry's  testiness  in  The  Wise  Woman  and  the  old  fathers  in 
The  English  Traveller.  Could,  in  the  case  of  our  play,  three 
better  types  of  old  men,  slow-witted,  wellmeaning,  with  a  good 
deal  of  testiness  in  the  case  of  Old  Arthur,  be  found  in  any 
contemporary  piece  ?  There  is  in  their  portrayal  almost  more 
humour  than  we  usually  find  in  Heywood.  There  is  also  the 
friendship  between  old  men  in  the  case  of  Old  Arthur  and  Old 
Lusam  that  we  have  again  between  Flower  and  Berry,  between 
Old  Wincot  and  Old  Lionel.  The  rapidity  with  which  Young 
Arthur  falls  in  love  with  Mary  is  paralleled  in  The  Fayre 
Maide  of  the  Exchange,  The  Wise  Woman,  The  Faire  Maid  of 
the  West,  The  Golden  Age,  A  Challenge  for  Beauty,  Edward  IV, 
and  The  Four  Prentices.  I  find  some  very  striking  points  of 
agreement  between  The  Faire  Maide  of  the  Exchange  *)  and  our 
play.  There  is  more  than  a  superficial  likeness  between  the 
scene  in  the  former  piece  where  Scarlet  makes  observations 
while  Bobbington  addresses  Phillis  and  Ursula  (p.  7  of  Vol.  II 
of  The  Dramatic  Works  of  Thomas  Heywood,  1874)  and  the  one 
in  our  play  where  Anselme  addresses  Mistress  Arthur  within 
earshot  of  Fuller,  who  comments  on  the  lover's  manner  of 
courting  her  (11.  546-616).  Again  when  Frank  says  (ibid.  p.  16) : 

if  every  tale  of  love, 

Or  love  it  selfe,  or  foole-bewitching  beauty, 
Make  me  crosse-arme  my  selfe  ;  study  ay-mees, 
Defie  my  hat-band;  tread  beneath  my  feet 
Shoo-strings  and  garters  ;  practise  in  my  glasse 
Distressed  lookes,  and  dry  my  liver  up, 
With  sighes  enough  to  win  an  argosie. 
If  ever  I  turne  thus  fantasticall, 
Love  plague  me,  never  pitty  me  at  all. 

L)  Miss  Hibbard's  paper  is  very  convincing  ;  yet  on  reading  the  play  once 
more  I  cannot  help  feeling  that  it  is  in  some  respects  unworthy  of  Hev 
wood.  His  manner  seems  less  certain ;  perhaps  it  is  a  very  early  play  or 
contains  a  large  contingent  from  another  hand. 


xt 

or  (p.  20)  : 

«  Shall  I  that  have  ieasted  at  lovers  sighes  now  raise  whirle- 
windes  ?  Shall  I  that  have  flowted  ay-mees  once  a  quarter,  now 
practise  ay-mees  every  minute?  Shall  I  defie  hat-bands,  and 
tread  garters  and  shoo-strings  under  my  feet  ?  Shall  I  fall  to 
falling  bands  and  bee  a  ruffin  no  longer?  I  must;  I  am  now 
liege  man  to  Cupid,  and  have  read  all  these  informations  in  his 
booke  of  statutes,  the  first  chapter,  page  millesimo  nono,  there 
fore,  hat- band  avaunt,  ruffe  regard  your  selfe.  garters  adue, 
shoo-strings  so  and  so;  I  am  a  poor  enamorate,  and  enforced 
with  the  Poet  to  say,  Love  orecomes  all,  and  I  that  love  obey.» 
we  are  vividly  reminded  of  11.  361-373  of  How  a  man  may  choose. 

A  certain  similarity  of  manner  is  also  unmistakable  in  the 
passage  beginning  «Why  thus,  there  liv'd  a  Poet  in  this  towne» 
(Faire  Maide,  II,  pp.  46-47)  and  11.  392-417  and  Ii33-ii64of  our 
play. 

Saintsbury  says  of  Heywood  as  a  writer  of  blank  verse  :  «(he) 
has  a  sort  of  tap  of  blank  verse,  not  at  all  bad,  which  he  can 
turn  on  at  any  time  and  the  cistern  whereof  never  runs  dry  or 
foul.  But  there  is  something  of  a  tap-and-cistern  quality  about 
it,  and  it  is  never  the  earth-born  and  heaven-seeking  fountain 
of  Shakespeare  ».  (History  of  English  Prosody  II,  81).  The 
blank  verse  of  our  play  also  makes  the  impression  of  having 
been  written  with  great  ease,  but  all  the  time  one  has  an  im 
pression  that  the  author  might  have  employed  prose  with  very 
much  the  same  effect.  Of  course  in  judging  the  metrical  parts 
of  our  play  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  there  is  much  ^confu 
sion  in  the  division  of  the  lines  and  that  the  quartos  show 
evident  traces  of  not  having  been  revised  by  the  author.  In 
fact,  we  know  that  it  was  against  Heywood's  habit  to  have  his 
plays  printed.  In  the  address  «  To  the  Reader  »  prefixed  to 
The  Rape  of  Lucrece  he  says  : 

It  hath  been  no  custom  in  me  of  all  other  men  (courteous 
readers)  to  commit  my  plays  to  the  press ;  the  reason  though 
some  may  attribute  to  my  own  insufficiency,  I  had  rather  sub 
scribe,  in  that,  to  their  severe  censure,  than  by  seeking  to 
avoid  the  imputation  of  weakness,  to  incur  greater  suspicion 
of  honesty  :  for,  though  some  have  used  a  double  sale  of  their 
labours,  first  to  the  stage,  and  after  to  the  press,  for  my  own 


XII 

part  I  here  proclaim  myself  ever  faithful  in  the  first,  and  never 
guilty  of  the  last.  Yet  since  some  of  my  plays  have  (unknown 
to  me,  and  without  any  of  my  direction)  accidentally  come  into 
the  printers  hands,  and  therefore  so  corrupt  and  mangled 
(copied  only  by  the  ear)  that  I  have  been  as  unable  to  know 
them  as  ashamed  to  challenge  them,  this  therefore  I  was  the 
willinger  to  furnish  out  in  his  native  habit  :  first  being  by  con 
sent;  next  because  the  rest  have  been  so  wronged,  in  being 
published  in  such  savage  and  ragged  ornaments. 

(Mermaid  Series  p.  829) . 

This  accounts  for  the  corruptness  of  the  metre,  for  the 
obvious  mistakes  and  incongruencies,  and  also  for  the  fact 
that  the  name  of  the  author  is  not  known.  Heywood  was  a 
voluminous  writer  :  he  speaks  of  two  hundred  and  twenty 
plays  in  which  «  I  have  had  either  an  entire  hand,  or  at  the 
the  least  a  main  finger  »  (The  English  Traveller,  To  the  Read 
er  ;  Mermaid  Series  p.  154.)  As  Laura  A.  Hibbard  has  point 
ed  out  (ut  supra,  p.  3g2),  Hey  wood's  early  dramas  contain  a 
rather  large  percentage  of  rime.  In  A  Woman  Killed,  with 
1,966  lines,  17  per  cent,  are  rimed;  in  The  Rape  of  Lucrece, 
with  2,462  lines,  14  per  cent,  are  rimed;  in  Thefayre  Maide  of 
the  Exchange,  with  2,538  lines,  18  per  cent  are  rimed.  Roughly 
speaking  there  are  in  our  play,  which  numbers  2,742  lines,  5  1/2 
per  cent,  of  rimes  if  we  leave  out  Aminadab's  doggerel,  and 
8  1/2  per  cent,  if  we  include  it *).  This  means  in  my  case  rimes, 
not  single  lines;  in  the  case  of  Miss  Hibbard  I  get  the  impres 
sion  that  she  has  counted  the  single  lines,  which  would  mean 
17,  14,  18  and  n  or  17  per  cent.,  according  to  her  method  or, 
8  1/2,  7,  9  and  5  1/2  or  8  1/2  per  cent,  according  to  my  method. 
However,  this  is  of  no  great  importance.  The  fact  remains 
that  the  metre  of  How  a  man  may  choose  closely  resembles  that 
of  Heywood's  plays  in  its  general  character,  in  its  fondness  of 
rime,  and  a  rather  frequent  carelessness  which  cannot  in  every 
case  be  attributed  to  the  manner  in  which  the  play  was  pub 
lished.  To  this  I  may  add  that  our  play,  Heywood's  undoubted 
plays,  and  The  Captives  have  some  unusual  words  and  man 
ners  of  expression  in  common,  such  as  duck,  shee-tongue,  shee- 

*)  I  have  not  counted  the  rimes  of  three  episodes. 


XIII 

chatteyles,  she-post,  upshot,  preface,  tail,  to  entire,  mechat,  etc.  for 
which  see  the  notes.  The  probable  date  of  the  play,  1601, 
would  fit  in  admirably  with  Hey  wood's  work  of  that  time.  The 
fact  that  Heywood  wrote  for  the  Earl  of  Worcester's  Com 
pany  (Maas,  ante)  increases  the  probability  that  he  is  the 
author  of  our  play.  In  conclusion  I  recapitulate  that  from  the 
likeness  of  metre,  scene,  plot,  characters  and  language  I  have 
not  the  least  doubt  that  Heywood  is  the  author  of  this  delightful 
play.  In  ascribing  an  anomymous  play  to  a  certain  author  there 
will  always  be  a  more  or  less  strong  subjective  element.  There 
are  numerous  trifling  similarities  of  manner,  diction,  pathos 
which  can  hardly  be  pointed  out,  so  trifling  are  they,  but 
which  together  form  a  whole  which  will  add  weight  to  the 
reasonings  based  on  a  firmer  foundation.  Heywood  is  one  of 
my  personal  favourites  ;  many  of  his  plays  have  a  great  attrac 
tion  for  me,  and  from  the  time  that  I  first  read  How  a  man  may 
choose  —  fourteen  years  ago  —  I  have  felt  that  the  honour  of 
having  written  this  play  must  be  due  to  the  author  of  A  Woman 
Killed  with  Kindness  '). 

SOURCE.  The  source  of  this  comedy  is  to  be  found  in  one  of 
Cinthio's  novels,  which,  for  convenience,  1  print  below  from 
the  edition  of  i5g3.  According  to  Langbain,  Hazlitt,  and  Fleay 
the  incident  of  Anselme  saving  young  Arthur's  wife  by  taking 

l)  There  is  absolutely  no  similarity  or  point  of  agreement  with  John 
Cooke's  Green's  Tu  Quoque.  —  Prof.  A.  W.  Ward  writes  in  his  article  on 
Thomas  Heywood  in  vol.  VI  of  the  Cambridge  History  of  English  Literature 
(pp.  g3,  94)  as  follows  :  «  It  should,  however,  be  noted  that,  on  the  strength 
of  the  occurence  of  some  Latin  ribaldry,  both  in  The  Wise-woman  OfHogs- 
don,  which  is  probably  Heywood's,  and  in  the  popular  How  a  man  etc. 
(published  anonymously  in  1602),  Fleay  confidently  asserts  that  the  two 
plays  must  be  by  the  same  author.  Some  further  indications  of  H's  author 
ship  of  the  second  of  the  pair  might  be  sought  in  its  general  tendency  and 
tone,  and  in  at  least  one  touch  of  true  human  kindness  in  his  best  manner 
[The  courtesan's  sense  of  shame  in  taking  the  wronged  wife's  place  at 
table  (act.  Ill,  sc.  3).  Note.],  as  well  as  in  the  humour  of  Pipkin,  which  is 
very  like  that  of  H's  clowns  and  especially  like  Roger's  in  The  English 
Traveller ;  but  such  resemblances,  and  perhaps  one  or  two  others  which 
might  be  pointed  out,  are  not  evidence,  and  there  is  more  tirade  in  this 
piece  than  is  usual  with  H. ;  for  the  rest,  it  is  deftly  constructed  and  con 
tains  a  good  deal  of  humour  ».  Cp.  Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama  I,  33i. 
From  note  3  on  p.  712  of  Prof.  Baskervill's  paper  (see  next  page)  it  would 
seem  to  follow  that  he  believes  that  Heywood  is  the  author  of  our  play. 


XIV 

her  out  of  the  grave,  and  carrying  her  to  his  mother's  house 
is  related  in  the  «  Ninth  Novel  of  The  Pleasant  Companion 
(printed  in  8vo  in  London,  1684)  stil'd,  Love  in  the  Grave  » 
(Langbain,  The  Lives  and  Characters  of  the  English  Dramatick 
Poets,  p.  161.)  No  such  book  is  known  to  the  authorities  of  the 
British  Museum. 

The  sixth  novel  of  Riche's  Farewell  to  Military  Profession(i5Si) 
is  a  translation  oi  Cinthio's  Hecatommithi  III,  5,  and  the  author 
of  our  play  may  well  have  used  this  version.  Prof.  C.  R.  Basker- 
vill  says  in  his  important  paper  «  Source  and  Analogues  of 
How  a  Man  etc.  »  (Publication  of  the  Modern  Language  Asso 
ciation  of  America,  XXIV,  4)  :  «  it  would  be  hard  to  decide 
which  is  the  immediate  source,  however,  for  the  double  reason 
that  Riche  usually  follows  his  original  almost  phrase  by  phrase, 
occasionally  enlarging  a  compressed  Italian  expression  into 
what  amounts  to  an  explanation  or  illustration  of  the  origi 
nal,  and  that,  where  the  author  of  How  a  Man  May  Choose  has 
followed  his  source  closely,  he  is  so  far  from  copying  the  lan 
guage  that  his  phrasing  may  as  well  be  his  own  translation  as 
his  adaptation   of  Riche's.  But  the  slight  evidence  is  all  in 
favor  ol  his  borrowing  from  Riche.  For  instance,  where  Cin- 
thio  reads,   «  Aselgia...  indusse  un    suo  drudo   a  riuelare  a 
pared  di  Agata,  che  il  marito  auelenata  1'haueua,  »  we  find  in 
Riche  :  «  Wherefore  she  reveiled  his  speeches  unto  a  ribalde 
of  hers,   such  a  one  as  supplied  her.  want    of    that  which 
Gonsales  alone,  nor  ten  suche  as  he  were  able  to  satisfie  her 
withal,  and  induced  hym  to  appeache  hym  for  that  facte...  This 
companion  accused  Gonsales  upon  his  owne  wordes  unto  the 
freendes  of  Agatha, »  etc.  This  «  ribalde  »  rather  than  Cinthio's 
simple  «  un  suo  drudo  »  would  likely  suggest  the  character  oi 
Brabo  in  How  a  Man  May  Choose,  servant,  paramour,  and 
constant  attendant  of  the  courtesan,  who  protects  her  from 
the  husband's  anger  and  finally  secures  his  arrest  at  her  com 
mand.  Of  course,  however,  such  a  character  as  Brabo  was  a 
familiar  attendant  of  the  courtesan  on  the  stage  »  (pp.  711,  12). 
Referring  to  Prof.  Schelling's  remark  :  «  the  source  of  this 
story  —  which  seems  too  obviously  a  matter  of  e very-day  expe 
rience  to  search  for  at  all  —  has  been  found  in  Cinthio  and  duly 
recorded.  Its  atmosphere  is,  however,  wholly  English,  and  to 


XV 

those  who  retain  the  slightest  faith  in  the  possibility  that  two 
very  ordinary  men  may  say  the  obvious  without  incurring, 
either  of  them,  the  imputation  of  plagiarism  this  parallel  may 
be  regarded  as  negligible  »  Prof.  Baskervill  rightly  observes  : 
«  The  claim  for  an  English  atmosphere  may  be  admitted  if  we 
allow  that  much  of  the  machinery  of  the  play  —  the  poisoning, 
the  tomb,  etc.  —  reflects  the  Italian  source...  In  spite  of  the 
fact  that  the  general  motive  of  the  Cinthio-Riche  story  and 
How  a  Man  May  Choose  is  obvious  and  a  *  matter  of  every-day 
experience,  '  as  Prof.  Schelling  says,  an  outline  of  the  paral 
lels  between  the  two  will  prove,  I  think,  that  the  story  as  the 
source  of  the  play  is  hardly  «  negligible  »,  while  the  few  pas 
sages  that  seem  worth  citing  strengthen  the  claim  of  Riche  as 
the  immediate  source. . .  To  my  mind,  the  source  of  How  a  Man 
May  Choose  not  only  is  not  negligible  for  an  understanding  of 
the  play  itself,  but  takes  on  an  added  interest  in  view  of  the 
influence  of  the  play  »  ^pp.  713,  714  and  717).  As  regards  Riche 
as  a  more  immediate  source,  the  reader  can  form  his  own 
opinion  as  he  will  find  the  English  translation  below.  In  this 
connection  Prof.  Baskervill  calls  attention  to  the  following 
facts  (pp.  714-17)  :  According  to  Riche,  Gonsales,  the  husband, 
was  «  so  variable  and  so  unconstant,  that  he  suffered  hymself 
to  be  ruled  wholy  by  his  passions,  »  and  «  waxing  wearie  of 
love,  grewe  to  desire  chaunge.  »  Young  Arthur,  the  husband 
in  How  a  Man  May  Choose,  declares  that  his  «  ranging  plea 
sures  love  variety.  »  Both  wives  are  devoted,  deaf  to  the 
entreaties  of  their  lovers,  ready  to  excuse  their  husbands' 
neglect  and  unfaithfulness.  Agatha  of  Riche's  story  says  that 
she  would  not  bar  Gonsales  of  «  that  libertie,  whiche  either  the 
custome  of  the  corrupted  worlde,  or  the  priviledge  that  men 
had  usurped  unto  themselves,  had  given  unto  them.  »  And 
Mistress  Artrur  tells  Young  Arthur, 

«  If  you  delight  to  change,  change  when  you  please, 
So  that  you  will  not  change  your  love  to  me.  » 

11.  252,3. 

Again  the  passage  in  Riche  beginning  «  But  if  your  meanyng 
perchance  bee  »  down  to  «  the  losse  of  myne  honour  and  good 
name  »  agrees  closely  with  11.  1975-1981  of  our  play,  as  does 
also  the  passage  beginning  «  Sir,  Gonsales,  whom  you  have 


XVI 

condemned  »  down  to   «  by  me  beyng  here  »  with  11.  2754-6  of 
the  play. 

I  believe  that  a  close  comparison  of  How  a  Man  May  Choose 
with  Cinthio  and  Riche  can  leave  no  doubt  that  in  them  we 
have  the  source  of  the  plot,  in  all  probality  in  Riche  rather 
than  in  Cinthio  ;  with  the  English  genius  for  thoroughly  natio 
nalizing  a  subject  Heywood  has  produced  a  wholly  English 
atmosphere  and  constructed  a  domestic  play  which  has  had 
a  far-reaching  influence  on  a  group  of  very  interesting  and,  at 
one  time,  very  popular  dramas  *). 


Hecatommithi,  ouero  Cento  Novelle  di  M.  Giovanbattista  Giraldi 
Cinthio  nobile  Ferrarese.  In  Venetia,  Appresso  Domenico  Imberti. 
1593.  (pp.  152-155). 

DECA  TERZA.  Consalvo,  pigliata  Agata  per  moglie,  s'innamora  di  vna 
meretrice,  si  delibera  di  auelenare  Agata;  Vno  Scolare  gli  da  in  vece  di 
veleno  poluere  da  far  dormire,  la  da  egli  alia  Moglie,  la  quale  oppressa 
dal  sonno,  e  sepellita  per  morta  ;  lo  Scolare  la  trahe  del  sepolchro,  &  se  la 
mena  a  casa ;  e  condannato  il  marito  a  morte,  ella  lo  libera  dalla  morte, 
salua  la  sua  honesta. 

Novella  V. 

Fu  in  Siuiglia  nobile  citta  di  Spagna,  vn  gentilhuomo,  che 
Consaluo  hauea  nome,  il  quale  piu  lasciuo,  &  piu  mutabile 
era,  che  a  nobil  huomo  non  era  conueneuole.  Questi  innamo- 
ratosi  di  vna  Gentildonna,  che  Agata  era  detta,  vso  ogni  di- 
ligenza  per  hauerla  per  moglie.  Et  perche  ella  era  pouera,  oue 
Consaluo  era  ricchissimo,  i  parenti  gliele  diedero.  Parendo 
loro  di  far  vn  gran  guadagno.  Ma  appena  si  fini  Tanno, 
ch'  egli  satio  di  lei,  mostro  quanto  fosse  cosa  poco  gioueuole 
alle  donne,  hauer  marito  piu  ricco,  che  sauio  ;  &  quanto  sia 
meglio  dar  le  donne  a  gli  huomini,  che  alia  roba.  Perche, 
essendo  andata  ad  habitar  in  quella  cotrada  vna  cortigiana,  & 
ricca,  &  bella,  che  con  mill'  arti,  &  mille  ingani  si  facea  pri- 
gioni  gli  animi  de  gli  huomini,  che  come  semplici,  no  vi  si 
sapeano  opporre.  Cosaluo  fu  vno  de  primi,  che  ne  costei  lacci 
incappo,  et  fuor  di  ogni  credeza  di  lei  si  accese,  &  era  a  tal 

*)  Cp.  A.  H.  Quinn,  Fairc  Maide  of  Bristow,  Introduction.  (Dissertation, 
Pennsylvania,  1902). 


XVII 

termine  giunto,  che  non  hauea  mai  bene,  senon  quato  era  seco. 
Et  essendo  ella  sopra  ogni  femina  dissoluta,  &  auida  del  gua- 
dagno,  non  a  Consaluo  solo,  ma  a  quanti  si  andauano  a  lei  con 
copia  di  danari  largamete  si  daua.  La  qual  cosa  tato  doleua  a 
Cosaluo,  quato  si  pud  pesare  ogn'  uno,  che  dolga  veder  molto 
amata  donna  nelle  mani  altrui.  Era  nella  citta  uno  scolare  di 
medicina,  &  di  nobil  casa,  &  che  molto  couersaua  con  Cosaluo, 
il  quale  si  era  cosi  innamorato  di  Agata  che  non  bramaua  altro, 
che  godersi  di  lei :  Et  hauedo  comodita  d'  andar  in  casa  per  la 
domestichezza,  ch'  egli  tenea  col  marito,  no  lasciaua  cosa  a 
fare  perch'  ella  1'amasse,  &  il  copiacesse  di  se.  La  qual  cosa 
anchor  che  fosse  noiosa  alia  dona,  et  p^rcio  hauesse  voluto, 
ch'egli  si  fosse  rimaso  d'andarle  in  casa,  nodimeno  conoscedo 
ella  il  marito  huomo  di  poca  leuatura,  &  molto  dilettarsi  dell' 
amicitia  dello  Scolare,  toleraua  la  molestia,  ch'egli  le  daua ; 
leuandogli  egli  nondimeno  ogni  speranza,  di  poter  mai  con- 
seguir  da  lei  cosa  men  che  honesta.  Questi  per  prole  il  Marito 
in  dispetto,  fe,  che  vna  vecchia,  che  era  molto  atta  a  piegar 
gli  animi  delle  donne  a  desiderij  de  loro  amati,  le  spiego,  come 
se  fosse  mossa  a  compassione  di  lei,  Tamore,  che  Consaluo 
alia  Meretrice  portaua  :  mostrandole,  che  indegnamente  ella 
gli  era  tanto  fedele.  Et  d'una  cosa  passando  ad  vn'  altra  le 
disse  finalmente  ch'  era  grande  sciocchezza,  che  pigliandosi 
piacere  il  Marito  d'altre  donne,  ella  come  melensa,  se  ne  stesse 
a  disagio.  Agata,  che  saggia  era,  &  amaua  il  marito,  le  disse, 
ch'ella  uolentieri  uedrebbe  il  Marito  tale,  quale  egli  deurebbe 
essere,  &  quale  ella  lo  desideraua.  Ma,  poscia,  qu'egli  pure  di 
altro  animo  era  non  gli  uoleua  ella  torre  quella  liberta,  che  o 
la  mala  vsanza  del  guasto  mondo,  o  priuilegio,  che  tra  loro  si 
hauessero  fatti  gli  huomini,  hauea  lor  data  ;  Et  ch'ella  non  era 
mai,  facesse  con  altre  donne  il  Marito  cio,  ch'egli  si  uolesse, 
per  uiolar  quella  fede,  che  data  gli  hauea  :  ne  per  scemare,  il 
desiderio  di  coseruare  1'honore,  che  naturale  deue  essere  ne 
gli  animi  delle  donne,  &  che  le  facci  degne  di  loda  in  tutte  le 
parti  del  mondo.  Et,  che  tanto  piu  deueua  ella  cio  fare,  quato 
non  hauea  dato  altro  di  dote  al  Marito,  che  1'honesta  :  onde 
no  uoleua  ella  mai  da  questo  pesiero  leuarsi;  &  poscia,  alquato 
turbatetta,  le  soggiunse,  ch'ella  si  marauigliaua  molto,  ch'es- 
sendo  ella  vecchia  di  tale  eta,  che  deurebbe  riprendere  le 


XVIII 

giouani,  s'elle  a  cio  far  si  piegassino,  le  desse  cosi  fatti  cosigli, 

i  quali  1'erano  tanto  noiosi,  che  s'ella  fosse  mai  phi  cosi  ardita, 

che  di  cose  tali  le  dicesse  parola,  le  farebbe  prouare  quato 

simili  ragionamenti  le  fossero  spiaceuoli.  Riferi  la  vecchia  allo 

scolare,  cio  che  Agata  detto  le  hauea,  &  ne  rimase  egli  molto 

tristo.  Ma,  non  resto  di  cio  di  amare  la  donna,  auisandosi,  che 

non  era  cosi  duro  cuore,  che,  amado,  pregando,  lagrimando,  a 

lungo  andare,  no  si  ammollisce.  Conuersando  costui  con  Con- 

saluo,  gli  disse  egli,  che  acceso  era  cosi  della  Meretrice,  come 

lo  Scolare  della  Agata,  &  che  non  gli  increbbe  mai  tanto  di 

hauere  Moglie  a  lato  quato  gli  incresceua  allhora.  Perche  no 

hauendo  egli  Agata  si  piglierebbe  la  impudica  Aselgia  (che  cosi 

era  appellata  la  Meretrice)  per  moglie.  Pero  ch'ella  sola  era 

quanto  di  bene  egli  hauea  nel  mondo  ;  Et  ui  aggiunse,  che  se 

non  temesse  il  gastigo  della  giustitia   le   darebbe  morte.  A 

queste  parole  disse  lo  Scolare,  che  ad  ogni  modo  era  graue 

soma  vna  mogliera,  che  fosse  uenuta  a  fastidio  al  marito,  et 

che  s'altri  cercaua  di  liberarsene,  tentaua  cosa  degna  di  scusa. 

Et  ragionado  vna  uolta,  &  vn'altra  Cosaluo  seco  di  questo  suo 

desiderio,  &  ritrouandolo  tutta  uia  fauorire  la  parte  sua,  prese 

tata  baldaza  co  lui,  che  vn  giorno  gli  disse  ;  Tu  mi  sei  quell' 

amico,  che  mi  sei,  &  questa  nostra  amicitia  mi  fa  credere,  che 

ti  incresca  no  meno,  che  a  me,  ch'io  mi  ritroui  in  questo  tra- 

uaglio,  nel  quale  tu  mi  uedi  per  non  poter  pigliarmi  per  moglie 

Aselgia  :   Et  pero  persuadendomi  di  potere  hauere,  poi  che 

medico  sei,  compenso  al  mio  male,  ti  uoglio  dire  quello,  che 

mi  e  uenuto  in  mente  ;  &  quello  similmente  in  che  io  mi  uoglio 

seruir  di  te.  Io  mi  sono  deliberato,  quanto  prima  potro,  di  far 

morire  Agata,  &  ha  piu  giorni,  che  io  mi  uolgo  questa  cosa  per 

1'animo,  ma  mi  ha  fatto  soprastare  il  non  sapermi   ritrouar 

modo  di  farla  morire,  che  a  me  non  sia  poscia  imputata  la  sua 

morte.  Et  sapendo,  che  su  sei  medico,  &  per  lo  lungo  studio, 

c'hai  dato  a  questa  arte,  imaginadomi,  che  tu  sappi  di  molte 

cose,  che  sarieno  atte  a  compire  questo  mio  desiderio,  ti  prego 

ad  essermi  in  cio  cortese,  che  te  ne  saro  sempre  obligato.  Lo 

Scolare,   subito,  ch'udi  cosi  dire  a  Consaluo,  conobbe,  che 

quindi  gli  si  potea  scoprire  la  uia  di  potere,  col  mezo  del  suo 

ingegno,   hauere   Agata  nelle  mani.    Ma  tenendo   neH'animo 

chiuso  il  suo  pesiero  disse  a  Consaluo,  Che  egli  era  uero,  che 


XIX 

no  gli  macauano  modi  cosi  segreti  di  far  morire  le  persone  con 
segreti  veleni,  che  no  sarebbe  alcuno  mai,  che  si  potesse 
accorgere,  che  di  ueleno  si  morissero  quelli,  che  lo  piglias- 
sero.  Ma  che  due  cose  lo  ritraheuano  da  compiacerlo  ;  Tuna, 
perche  i  Medici  erano  al  mondo,  non  per  leuare  la  uita  ad 
altri,  ma  per  conserua(r)gliele  ;  1'altro,  che  porrebbe  a  troppo 
gran  pericolo  la  uita  sua,  qualuque  volta  a  cio  fare  si  dispo- 
nesse  ;  Perche  potrebbe  auenire,  come  pare  che  uoglia  Iddio, 
ch'auenga  in  simili  casi,  che  per  non  pensato  modo  si  saprebbe 
cio,  che  fatto  si  fosse,  &  che  no  meno  sarebbe  egli  codannato 
a  morte  che  Consaluo  ;  Et  che  per  lo  primo  rispetto  no  si 
uoleua  egli  dare  a  far  cosa,  che  fosse  contra  la  professione  sua, 
&  per  lo  secodo  no  uolea  porre  a  rischio,  per  cosa  tale,  la  uita 
sua.  Consaluo  cio  vdendo,  disse,  che  le  leggi  dall'  amicitia  non 
uietauano,  che  vno  amico  non  si  partisse  dall'  honesto,  per 
seruigio  dell'  altro.  Et  che  percio  no  deueua  egli  mancargli  in 
questo  suo  desiderio ;  Ne  li  due  rispetti  addotti  lo  deueano 
rimouere  da  cio  :  Perche  tanto  hoggidi  era  tenuto  medico,  chi 
vccidea  gli  huomini,  quanto  colui,  che  gli  sanaua.  Et  che 
essendo  cio  segreto  fra  lor  due  soli,  no  era  da  temere,  che  mai 
si  deuesse  sapere.  Et  che  quado  anco  auenisse,  ch'egli  fosse 
incolpato  di  hauer  auelenata  la  moglie,  gli  prometteua  egli  di 
no  dir  mai,  che  da  lui  hauesse  hauto  il  veleno.  Lo  Scolare  gli 
disse  che  poscia  ch'egli  cosi  gli  prometteua  proporrebbe  1'es- 
sergli  amico  al  diritto  della  medicina,  &  che  lo  copiacerebbe. 
Et  lasciato  Consaluo  tutto  lieto,  se  n'ando  a  casa,  &  copose 
vna  sua  mescolanza  di  poluere  da  far  talmente  dormire  ch'altri 
sarebbe  giudicato  morto.  Et  1'altro  giorno  porto  la  poluere  a 
Cosaluo,  et  gli  disse  ;  mi  fate  far  cosa,  Cosaluo  che  no  farei 
per  me  medesimo  :  ma  poscia  che  piu  ha  possuto  in  me  1'amor, 
ch'io  ui  porto  che  il  giusto,  &  il  ueder  mio ;  vi  prego  a  mante- 
nermi  la  fede,  &  non  palesar  a  persona  gia  mai,  che  questo 
ueleno  da  me  habbiate  hauuto,  Cosi  gli  promise,  Cosaluo  di 
fare.  Et  presa  la  poluere,  dimado  in  che  modo  egli  la  deuesse 
usare  :  a  cui  disse  egli,  che  la  sera  gliele  ponesse  gentilmete 
nel  mangiare,  &  che  mangiata  che  la  si  hauesse,  cosi  accon- 
ciamente  Agata  se  ne  morrebbe  che  parrebbe  ch'ella  dormisse. 
Presa  Cosaluo  la  poluere,  &  venuta  la  sera,  la  pose  nel  magiare 
dell'  Agata,  La  quale,  mangiata,  che  1'hebbe,  sentendosi 


XX 

tutta  sonnacchiosa,  se  n'ando  nella  sua  camera  (pero,  ch'ella 
con  Consaluo  no  si  giaceua,  se  non  quando  egli  1'adimandaua, 
il  che  era  di  rado)  &  entro  nel  letto,  &  non  passo  1'hora,  che  la 
prese  cosi  profondo  sonno,  che  pareua  ueramete  morta.  Con 
saluo,  quando  tempo  gli  parue,  se  n'ando  anch'egli  a  letto  ;  & 
stado  tutta  uia  con  la  mete  trauagliata,  aspetto  con  grandis- 
simo  desiderio  il  giorno,  tenedo  certo  di  ritrouare  la  Moglie 
morta.  Fattosi  giorno,  egli  si  leuo,  &  se  n'ando  fuori  di  casa, 
et  ui  stette  per  lo  spatio  di  vn'hora  :  poscia  si  ritorno  a  casa,  & 
dimando  alia  cameriera  di  Agata,  che  fosse  di  lei,  non  si  e  ella 
anchor  mossa  rispose  ;  &  egli,  come,  disse,  dorme  ella  tanto 
istamane  ?  suole  essere  leuata  auanti  giorno,  &  hora  son  pas- 
sate  due  hore  del  di,  et  anchora  dorme?  ua  tosto,  &  risuegliala, 
che  uoglio,  ch'ella  mi  dia  alcune  cose,  le  quali  sono  sotto  le 
sue  chiaui.  La  Cameriera,  presta  al  comandamento,  se  n'ando 
alia  Madonna,  et  chiamatala  vna,  &  due  fiale,  &  non  rispon- 
dendo  ella,  le  pose  le  mani  addosso,  &  toccandola  gentilmente 
le  disse  ;  Leuati  Madonna,  che  il  Messere  vi  domanda ;  Ma 
non  rispondendo  ella,  Le  prese  la  giouane  vn  braccio,  &  sco- 
tendola  assai  gagliardamente  &  non  rispondendo  la  Donna,  ne 
mouendo  si  punto,  se  n'ando  a  Cosaluo,  &  dissegli ;  Messere, 
io  no  posso  far  risentire  Madonna,  per  cosa,  che  io  le  faccia, 
Consaluo  allhora  lieto  ;  va,  disse,  &  scuotela  tanto,  ch'ella  si 
risenta.  Ritorno  la  Cameriera,  &  fe  quanto  le  hauea  detto 
Consaluo,  ma  tutto  fece  in  vano.  Onde  ritornatasi  a  lui,  disse 
ch'ella  credeua  certo,  che  Madonna  fosse  morta  tanto  1'haueua 
ella  ritrouata  fredda,  &  insensibile.  Come  morta?  disse  egli,  & 
cio  disse,  come  marauiglioso,  &  pieno  di  spauento,  &  andatosi 
al  letto,  la  chiamo,  la  scosse,  la  strinse  fortemente  colle  mani, 
le  torse  le  dita,  &  delle  mani,  &  de  piedi,  &  al  fine  non  sentendo 
cosa  alcuna  Agata,  comincio  a  gridare,  a  dolersi,  a  ramaricarsi 
a  percuotersi,  &  a  maledire  la  sua  fortuna,  che  1'hauesse  cosi 
tosto  priuo,  di  cosi  fedele,  &  amoreuole  Moglie.  Et  hauendo 
scoperta  tutta,  &  riuoltata  la  Donna,  &  non  veggendo  cosa 
alcuna  per  la  sua  persona,  la  quale  hauesse  a  dare  ad  alcuno 
inditio  di  veleno,  voile  mostrare  di  compire  ogni  ufficio  di 
amoreuole  Marito.  Per  la  qual  cosa,  fece  egli  chiamare  quariti 
medici  erano  in  Siuiglia,  i  quali  uenuti,  &  usati  tutti  quegli 
argomenti,  che  loro  paruero  atti  a  far  risentire  persona  uiua, 


XXI 

&  ritrouandola  pure  immobile,  &  insensibile,  giudicarono,  che 
ella  da  subita  morte  fosse  stata  occupata,  &  per  morta  la 
lasciarono.  A  questa  loro  risolutione,  benche  fra  se,  ne  fosse 
lietissimo  Consaluo,  finse  nondimcno  di  sentirne  estremo 
dolore,  &  pareua  che  non  uolesse  piu  uiuere  morta  la  Moglie. 
Si  che  fece  chiamar  i  parenti  della  Donna,  &  con  loro  si  dolse 
infinitamente  del  caso  auenuto  :  &  poscia  fece  apparecchiare 
belle,  &  horreuoli  esscquie;  &  la  fe,  con  molta  pompa  sepellire, 
in  un'auello  c'haueua  Consaluo  fuori  della  T^rra,  nel  cimiterio 
de  Frati  dell'  osseruanza.  Lo  Scolare,  che  il  luogo  molto  bene 
sapeua,  &  haueua  in  contado  vna  sua  casa,  no  molto  lontana  a 
quella  Chiesa,  se  n'era  la  sera  gito  fuori  di  Siuiglia,  &  la  notte, 
quando  tepo  gli  parue,  pigliata  con  esso  lui  vna  lanterna, 
circa  all'  auello,  se  n'ando,  &  perche  egli  era  giouane,  &  di 
buon  nerbo,  hauendo  portate  con  seco  alcune  cose  atte  a 
poter  leuar  la  pietra,  che  chiudeua  il  sepolchro,  1'aperse,  & 
entrato  in  esso  si  reco  la  Dona  in  braccio,  la  quale  essendo 
gia  finita  la  forza  della  poluere,  si  risenti,  tosto,  che  egli  la 
ihosse  :  &  ueggedosi  ella  iui  tra  stracci,  &  ossa  di  morti,  et 
uestita,  come  se  morta  fosse;  Ohime,  misera  me,  disse,  oue  son 
io  ?  chi  mi  ha,  dolete  me,  qui  messa?  II  uostro  infedele  Marito, 
rispose  lo  Scolare,  il  quale  auelenataui,  per  pigliarsi  Aselgia 
per  moglie,  ui  ha  fatta  qui  sepellire;  &  son'io  qui  uenuto,mosso 
a  compassion  della  vostra  sciagura,  con  remedi  opportuni  per 
uedere,  s'io  poteua  richiamare  la  uostra  felice  anima  a  gli 
usati  ufncij  :  &  quando  cio  non  hauessi  potuto,  morirmi  qui  a 
canto  il  uostro  corpo,  &  lasciarlo  in  questo  auello  con  lui  con- 
giunto.  Ma  poscia  che  in  questo  uostro  graue  periglio,  mi  e 
stato  di  tanto  fauoreuole  il  Cielo,  che  la  virtu  dei  rimedi  che 
fatti  ui  ho,  hanno  rattenuta  la  uostra  gentil'  anima  congiunta 
al  uostro  bellissimo  corpo  :  uoglio  uita  mia  cara,  che  quinci 
conosciate  qual  sia  stata  la  fede  del  uostro  maluagio  Marito, 
&  qual  sia  la  mia,  &  qual  di  noi  due  merita  esser  amato  da  uoi. 
La  donna  ritrouandosi  in  quello  auello,  uestita  da  donna  mor 
ta,  si  credete  quanto  lo  Scolare  detto  le  haueua  :  &  le  parue 
che  fosse  il  suo  marito  piu  d'ogn'  altro  misleale,  &  crudele. 
Et  riuoltatasi  allo  Scolare  gli  disse,  Rhisti,  che  cosi  haueua 
nome  egli ;  negar  non  ui  posso,  che  infedelissimo  non  sia  il 
mio  marito,  ne  posso  non  confessare,  che  uoi  non  siate  amore- 


XXII 

uolissimo.  Et  forza  mi  e  dire,  poi  che  misera  me,  in  questo 
luogo  tra  morti,  &  da  morta  uestita  mi  veggio,  che  io  conosco 
la  vita  da  voi.  Ma  perche,  se  il  mio  marito  mi  ha  rotta  la  fede, 
io  pero  intera  ho  serbata,  &  serbo  la  mia,  se  volete  che  questo 
uostro  pietoso,  &  amoreuole  vfficio  mi  sia  caro,  &  cara  mi  sia 
la  uita  che  data  mi  hauete  ;  ui  prego  che  uogliate  hauere  rac- 
comadata  1'honesta  mia,  &  no  uogliate,  coll'  vsarmi  atto  vil- 
lano  (la  qual  cosa  non  mi  posso  pensare,  che  mi  debba  auenire 
mai  da  tanta  cortesia)  far  meno  lodeuole  questo  uostro  cortese 
atto  :  il  quale  ponendo  uoi  freno  al  concupiscibile  desiderio, 
&  allo  sfrenato  appetito  si  rimarra  il  piu  uirtuoso,  &  phi 
degno  di  honore,  che  fosse  mai  fatto  da  cortese  Gentilhuomo. 
Rhisti  uolle  con  efficaci  ragioni  farle  uedere,  che  il  marito  non 
haueua  piu  in  lei  ragione  alcuna,  &  che  quando  ue  ne  hauesse 
anco,  tanto  era  stato  sozzo  questo  suo  atto,  col  quale  le  hauea 
dato  cosi  certo  pegno  del  mai'  animo  suo,  che  deueua  essere 
sicura  della  morte,  qualunque  uolta  ella  gli  ritornasse  nelle 
mani.  Et  percio  ella  non  deuea  tenere  piu  stima  alcuna  di  lui, 
ma  deuea  mostrarsi  grata  del  riceuuto  beneficio,  &  esserli  tato 
benigna,  che  ella  consentisse  che  potesse  goder  il  frutto  delle 
sue  fatiche  :  e  con  queste  parole  si  piego  uerso  lei  per  darle  un 
bacio.Lo  rispinse  la  Donna,  &li  disse  :  Rhisti,  se  il  mio  marito 
ha  sciolte  colla  sua  poca  fede,  le  ragioni  del  matrimonio,  non 
le  ho  sciolte,  ne  scioglierle  mai  uoglio,  infin  che  mi  durera  la 
uita  ;  del  andargli  alle  mani,  mi  uoglio  appigliar  al  uostro 
consiglio,  non  perche  non  ui  andassi  uolentieri,  quando  Io 
potessi  ritrouar  di  miglior  pensiero,  ma  per  non  incorrer  altra 
uolta  in  cosi  graue  pericolo.  Quanto  a  dare  degno  guiderdone 
a  questa  uostra  lodeuol  fatica  ;  II  maggiore  non  ui  saprei  io 
dare,  che  restarui  eternamente  obligata  ;  e  se  questo  ui  basta, 
mi  restero  in  questa  mia  angoscia  tanto  contenta,  quanto 
comporta  il  misero  stato,  in  ch'io  mi  ritrouo  hora.  Ma  se  uoi 
forseuoleste  che  la  perdita  dell'  honesta  mia,  ui  deuesse  essere 
mercede  :  uscite  ui  prego  di  questa  sepoltura,  &  chiudetemi 
dentro,  che  io  uoglio  piu  tosto  riceuer  morte  dalla  crudelta 
del  marito  mio,  con  saluezza  del  mio  honore,  che  da  tale  pieta 
hauer  la  uita,  colla  perdita  della  mia  pudicitia.  Conobbe  a 
tali  parole  il  liberator  della  Agata  la  sua  bonta,  &  posto  che  li 
fosse  graue  di  ritrouarla  di  cosi  fedele,  &  fermo  animo,  che  ne 


XXIII 

la  morte  istessa  le  poteua  far  mutar  pensiero  :  pure  auisandosi, 
che  il  tepo  potesse  uincer  il  proposito  della  Donna,  le  rispose; 
che  rimanea  contento  di  vederla  di  si  buon  animo,  &  che  per- 
cio  egli  non  volea  altro  da  lei,  que  quello  ch'  ella  li  volca  dare. 
Et  con  queste  parole  la  trasse  della  sepoltura,  &  la  condusse  a 
casa  sua,  &  raccomandola  ad  vna  sua  uecchia,  &  se  ne  ritorno 
in  Siuiglia,  lasciado  la  cura  a  quella  Dona  di  disporre  1'Agata 
ad  esserli  piaceuole.  Consaluo,  doppo  alcuni  giorni  mostrado 
di  no  poter  star  senza  donna,  si  prese  Aseglia  per  moglie. 
La  qual  cosaparue  molto  strana  a  parenti  di  Agata,  &  se  ne 
stettero  tutti  co  1'animo  sospeso.  Standosi  Cosaluo  colla  nuoua 
mogliera,  li  auenne  quello  con  lei,  che  a  lui  con  Agata  era 
auenuto  :  Pero,  che  essendo  costei  usa  non  ad  huomo,  ma  alle 
centenaia,  &  a  uiuere  in  quella  licenza,  nella  qual  uiuono  le 
simili  a  lei  :  tenendola  Consaluo  con  quella  diligenza  che  gli 
insegnaua  la  gran  gelosia  ch'egli  ne  haueua,  le  uenne  egli  tanta 
noia,  che  nol  poteua  ueder  uiuo,  &  conobbe  allhora  Consaluo, 
che  differeza  fosse  fra  1'amore  di  honesta  donna, &  di  una  mere- 
trice.  Dicendole  adunque  Cosaluo  del  poco  amore  ch'egli 
conosceua  in  lei;  &  rispondendogli  ella  orgogliosamente,  uenne 
in  tanto  furore,  ch'egli  le  disse  ;  Scelerata,  per  godermi  te,  ho 
auelenata  Agata,  ch'era  la  piu  amoreuole  donna,  che  mai  per 
matrimonio  si  congiunse  ad  hvomo  :  &  il  guiderdone  che  me 
ne  uoi  rendere,  e  il  dimostrarmiti  tutta  uia  piu  dispettosa,&  piu 
spiaceuole.  Aselgia  cio  inteso  si  uide  hauer  ritrouata  la  uia  da 
sciogliersi  da  Consaluo.  Per  laqual  cosa  indusse  un  suo  drudo  a 
riuelar  a  parenti  di  Agata,  che  il  marito  auelenata  1'haueua.  Essi 
che  di  cio  haueano  hauuto  qualche  sospetto,cio  inteso, andarono 
al  Podesta,  &  li  fecero  a  sapere,  quanto  colui  haueua  lor  detto. 
II  Podesta  di  subito  fe  prender  Cosaluo,  &  la  meretrice,  per 
intendere  la  ueritadel  fatto.  La  uecchia  in  questo  mezo,  ch'era 
con  Agata  non  mancaua  di  tentarla  continuamente,  per  indurla 
a  compiacereallo  Scolare,che  liberatal'hauea:  Manon  potendo 
Agata  tolerare  quella  molestia,  disse  vn  giorno  alia  uecchia ; 
Dite  a  Rhisti,  che  alia  sepoltura  mi  torni,  ch'iui  minor  noia  mi 
fie  morirmi,  che  rimanermi  in  questa  seccagine.  Laqual  cosa 
intendendo  lo  Scolare  haueua  deliberato  di  uenire  alia  forza, 
poi  che  ne  beneficio  riceuuto,  ne  prieghi  ne  niun'altra  cosa 
potea  far  mutar  pensiero  ad  Agata.  In  questo  tepo  confesso 


XXIV 

Consaluo,  hauer  auelenata  la  moglie  con  ueleno,  ch'egli  hauea 
tenuto  molti  anni  in  casa  (che  in  cio  egli  mantiene  la  fede  allo 
Scolare)  et  per  cio  fu  condannato  alia  morte.  Laqual  cosa  fu 
carissima  a  Rhisti,  perche  egli  si  penso,  che  morendo  il  marito, 
egli  si  rimarrebbe  della  donna  signore.  Venne  il  giorno,  nel 
qual  deueua  essere  tagliata  la  testa  a  Consaluo  ;  &  cio  perue- 
nuto  alle  orecchie  di  Agata,  si  delibero  ella  di  far  ueder  al  suo 
misleal  marito,  in  questo  estremo,  quato  fosse  la  sua  fede;  et 
uscitasi  incotanete  di  casa  di  Rhisti,  con  tosto  passo  alia  Citta 
se  n'ando,  &  entrata  in  corte  del  Podesta,  gli  fece  innazi,  &  gli 
disse  Messere,  Consaluo  e  da  uoi  ingiustamente  dannato  a 
morte,  perche  no  e  uero  che  la  sua  moglie  uccisa  egli  habbia, 
anzi  e  ella  uiua,  et  io  son  essa  :  pero  non  lasciate  che  proceda 
phi  oltre  la  sentenza  data  da  uoi,  essendo  ella,  come  chiara- 
mete  potete  uedere,  igiustissima.  A  queste  parole  il  Podesta 
che  la  tenea  morta,  rimase  come  fuor  di  se,  &  non  la  pote 
mirar  senza  qualche  ribrezzo,pensandosi  di  ueder  no  una  donna 
viua,  ma  vna  fantasima  :  pero  ch'ella  era  in  habito  dimesso,  et 
molto  afflitta,  per  lo  graue  affanno,  che  la  premeua,  per  lo  caso 
auenuto  prima  a  se,  poscia  al  marito.  Fra  questo  tempo  i 
sergenti  condussero  Consaluo  auanti  al  Podesta,  accioch'  egli, 
secondo  il  costume  di  quel  luogo,  commettesse  a  sergenti, 
che  il  menassino  alia  morte.  Ma  non  fu  cosi  tosto  Consaluo 
veduto  da  Agata,  ch'  ella  colle  lagrime  sugli  occhi,  a  braccia 
aperte,  lo  corse  ad  abbracciare,  &  pedendogli  dal  collo  gli 
disse  ;  Ahi  marito  mio  oue  ui  ueggio  io,  per  la  vostra  follia 
condotto  ?  Eccouila  uostra  Agata,  non  morta,  no,  ma  (la  Dio 
merce)  viua  :  la  quale  ui  si  vuole  anco,  in  questo  punto,  mos- 
trare  quella  mogliera,  ch'ella  sempre  ui  e  stata.  II  Podesta,  cio 
veggendo,  lo  fece  subito  sapere  al  Signore,  il  quale,  pieno  di 
grandissima  marauiglia  :  &  cio  a  gran  pena  credendo,  si  fe 
condurre  dinanzi  Consaluo  la  moglie  :  &  voile  sapere  come 
cio  si  fosse,  che  essendo  stata  sepolta  per  morta  Agata,  ella 
iui  si  ritrouasse  viua.  Consaluo  no  sapeua,  che  si  dire  altro, 
senon,  ch'egli,  per  1'amore,  che  ad  Aselgia  portaua,  auelenata 
hauea  la  moglie  :  ma,  come  ella  si  fosse  ritornata  viua,  &  iui  si 
ritrouasse,  non  ne  sapea  dir  cosa  alcuna.  Ma  la  donna  gli  disse 
come  lo  Scolare,  con  suoi  argomenti,  1'hauea  liberata  dalla 
morte,  ma  come  cio  si  hauesse  egli  fatto,  non  sapeua  ella  dire. 


XXV 

II  Signore  fatto  venire  Rhisti,  intese,  come  in  vece  di  ueleno, 
egli  la  polue  alloppiata  data  gli  haueua,  per  lo  singolare  amore, 
ch'egli  portaua  alia  donna  ;  &  vi  soggiunse,  che  quantunque  la 
donna  hauesse  ueduta  la  crudelta  del  Marito,  &  egli  leuata 
1'hauesse  dalla  morte,  non  hauea  pero  mai  potuto  rimouerla  dal 
fermo  proposito  di  conseruare  colla  sua  honesta,  la  fede  al 
marito.  Conobbe  il  Signore,  che  in  donna  honesta  puo  molto 
piu  il  rispetto  dell'  honore,  tutte  le  ingiurie,  et  commendo 
molto  1'astutia  di  Rhisti,  &  la  fede,  &  1'amore  della  donna.  Et 
voltatosi  poscia  verso  Consaluo,  gli  disse  ;  Non  meritaui  cosi 
fatta  mogliere,  &  sarebbe  ben  degno,  ch'  ella  piu  tosto  di  Rhisti 
si  fosse,  che  tua  ;  ne  meriteresti,  anchora  ch'  ella  sia  viua, 
minor  pena,  che  quella,  che  apparecchiata  ti  s'era,  pero  che, 
in  quanto  a  te,  hai  questa  gentilissima  donna  vccisa.  Ma  voglio, 
che  di  tanto  giouamanto  ti  sia  la  bonta,  &  la  fede  della  mo- 
gliera  tua,  che  ne  rimanga  viuo,  non  pure  per  te,  che  nol 
meriti,  ma  per  non  dare  a  lei  quell'  affanno,  che  so  ch'ella  ha- 
urebbe  della  tua  morte.  Ma  ti  giuro  bene,  che  se  mai  mi  uenira 
alle  orecchie,  che  tu  meno,  che  amoreuolmente  la  tratti,  ti  faro 
prouare,  quanto  io  sappia  punire  cosi  fatti  delitti.  Consaluo, 
imputando  al  suo  poco  conoscimento,  cio,  ch'egli  haueua  fatto, 
tanto  promise  al  Signore  di  fare,  quanto  egli  gli  haueua  im- 
posto.  Et  qui  fatto  fine,  lascio  Consaluo  la  meretrice,  che  egli 
per  moglie  si  haueua  presa,  &  si  uisse  in  pace  con  Agata  :  la 
costanza  della  quale  fe,  che  oue  Rhisti  per  1'adietro,  per  la 
sua  belta,  1'haueua  amata,  egli  per  lo  innanzi,  per  la  sua 
honesta,  quasi  come  santa  1'adorasse  :  parendogli,  che  maggior 
bonta,  &  maggior  fede  non  si  potesse  ritrouare  in  mortal 
Donna. 


Riche  his  Farewell  to  Militarie  Profession.  London,  1581. 
Of  Gonsales  and  his  Vertuous  Wife  Agatha. 

There  was  sometyme  in  the  citie  of  Siville,  in  Spaine,  a 
gentilman  named  Gonsales,  who,  though  he  were  a  man  of 
yeares  sufficient  to  be  staied,  and  to  give  over  the  wanton 
pranckes  of  youthfull  follie,  yet  was  he  by  nature  so  enclined 
to  followe  his  lustes,  and  withall  so  variable  and  so  unconstant, 
that  he  suffered  hymself  to  be  ruled  wholy  by  his  passions, 


XXVI 

and  measured  all  his  doyng  rather  by  his  delightes  and  plea 
sures  then  by  sounde  discourse,  and  rule  of  reason.  This 
gentleman,  fallyng  in  love  with  a  gentlewoman  of  the  saied 
citie,  whose  name  was  Agatha,  sought  all  the  meanes  he  could 
to  have  her  to  wife  ;  and  her  freendes,  although  thei  were  well 
enough  enformed  of  the  disposition  of  Gonsales,  wherby  thei 
might  have  feared  the  entreatie  of  their  kinswoman,  for  that 
thei  knewe  him  very  riche,  and  her  dowrie  not  to  be  very 
greate,  thei  were  well  content  to  bestowe  her  uppon  hym,  and 
thought  that  thei  had  in  so  doyng  placed  her  very  well.  But, 
before  the  first  yere  after  their  marriage  was  fullie  expired, 
Gonsales,  followyng  his  wonted  humour,  and  waxing  wearie 
of  love,  grewe  to  desire  chaunge,  givyng  thereby  a  notable 
example  for  women  to  learne,  how  little  it  is  to  their  com- 
moditie,  or  quiet,  to  matche  themselves  to  suche  that  be  rather 
riche  then  wise  ;  and  how  muche  it  were  better  for  them  to  bee 
married  to  men  then  to  their  goodes. 

For,  beeyng  come  to  sojourne,  in  that  streate  wherein  he 
dwelt  [lived]  a  notable  courtesane,  who  to  the  outward  shewe 
was  verie  faire,  though  inwardly  she  was  moste  foule,  as  she 
that  under  a  goodlie  personage  did  cover  a  wicked  and  danger 
ous  minde,  corrupted  with  all  vices,  as  for  the  moste  part  all 
suche  women  doen.  It  was  Gonsales  chaunce  to  be  one  of  the 
first  that  fell  into  those  snares,  whiche  she  had  sette  for  suche 
simple  men's  mindes,  as  haunte  after  the  exteriour  apparance 
of  those  thynges  whiche  their  senses  make  them  to  delight  in, 
and  not  considering  the  daunger  whereunto  thei  commit 
themselves,  by  followyng  of  their  disordinate  appetites,  doe 
suffer  themselves  to  be  entrapped  by  suche  leude  dames  : 
emong  whiche  this,  forsoothe,  was  one  that  was  of  singular 
skill  to  captive  men's  mindes,  whiche  by  experience  and  by  the 
naturall  disposition  of  her  mynde,  bent  wholie  to  deceipte  and 
naughtinesse,  had  learned  a  thousand  giles  and  artes,  which 
waie  to  allure  men  with  the  plesauntnesse  of  her  baites.  Where 
fore,  after  he  was  once  entangled  with  her  snares,  he  fell  so 
farre  beyond  all  reason  and  past  all  beleef,  to  dote  upon  this 
strumpet,  that  he  could  finde  no  reste,  nor  no  contentment, 
but  so  long  as  he  was  with  her. 

But  she,  beeyng  as  dissolute  a  dame   as  any  lived  in  the 


XXVII 

world,  and  as  greedie  likewise  of  gaine  as  ever  any  was  of 
her  profession,  would  not  content  herself  with  Gonsales  alone, 
but  yeelded  unto  as  many  as  list  to  enjoye  her,  if  thei  came 
with  their  handes  full,  and  spared  for  no  coste  to  reward  her 
liberallie.  Whiche  thyng  was  unto  hym,  that  was  so  besotted 
on  her,  so  greevous  and  so  intollerable,  that  nothyng  could 
be  more. 

There  was  at  that  same  tyme  a  scholer  in  the  citie  that  stu 
died  phisicke,with  whom  Gonsales  had  familiar  acquaintaunce; 
and  the  Scholler  thereby  havyng  accesse  and  conversation  in 
his  house,  beganne  so  fervently  to  be  in  love  with  Agatha,  his 
wile,  that  he  desired  nothing  so  earnestly  in  the  worlde  as  to 
enjoye  her,  and  to  winne  her  good  will.  Wherefore,  havyng 
(as  I  have  said)  free  accesse  to  her  house,  and  to  declare 
his  affection  unto  her  without  suspition,  he  ceased  not  by 
al  the  meanes  he  was  able  to  devise  to  sollicite  and  to 
procure  her  to  yeelde  unto  his  desire.  With  his  endevour 
and  earneste  suite,  although  it  were  unto  Agatha  noysome 
and  displeasaunt,  as  she  that  was  disposed  to  kepe  herself 
honest,  and  that  she  could  in  that  respecte  have  been 
very  glad  that  he  would  forbeare  to  frequent  her  house, 
yet  knowyng  her  housebande  to  be  a  man  of  no  verie  greate 
substaunce,  and  but  slenderly  stuffed  in  the  hedpeece,  and 
that  he  delighted  greatly  in  the  familiaritie  of  the  Scholler,  she 
forced  herself  to  endure  with  pacience  the  importunate  moles 
tation  whiche  he  still  wearied  her  withall,  takyng  from  hym  ; 
neverthelesse,  all  hope  to  obtaine  at  any  tyme  any  favour  at 
her  handes,  and  cuttyng  hym  shorte  from  all  occasions  as 
muche  as  she  could,  whereby  he  might  have  cause  either  to 
molest  her,  or  to  looke  for  anything  to  proceade  from  her  that 
were  lesse  then  honest. 

The  Scholer,  perceivyng  that  his  owne  travaile  to  win  her 
aftection  was  but  labour  loste,  thought  best  to  trie,  if  by  the 
allurment  or  per(s)wasion  of  any  other,  he  might  haply  move 
her  to  shew  herself  more  courteous  and  favourable  unto  him. 
Wherefore,  having  founde  out  an  olde  mother  Elenour,  a  dis 
ciple  of  the  Spanishe  Celestina,  suche  a  one  as  was  most  cun- 
nyng  and  skilfull  in  mollifiyng  of  women's  mindes,  to  worke 
them  afterwarde  to  receive  the  impressions  of  their  lovers,  he 


XXVIII 

caused  her  to  take  acquaintaunce  of  Agatha,  and  by  degrees 
(as  though  she  had  been  moved  with  pittie  and  compassion  of 
her  case)  to  declare  unto  her  the  love  which  her  housband 
bare  unto  the  courtisane,  and  to  showe  her  how  unworthie  he 
was  that  she  should  be  true  unto  hym.  And  in  the  end,  passyng 
from  one  speech  to  an  other,  she  saied  plainly  unto  her,  that 
it  was  a  greate  follie,  since  her  housebande  did  take  his  plea 
sures  abroade  with  other  women,  to  stande  to  his  allowances, 
and  to  take  the  leavyng  of  his  strumpets,  and  therewith  to 
bee  content ;  and  that,  if  she  were  in  her  case,  and  had  a 
houseband  that  would  strike  with  the  sworde,  she  would 
undoubtedly  requite  hym,  and  strike  with  the  scabberde  :  so 
she  counselled  her  to  doe  likewise. 

Agatha,  beyng  a  very  discrete  gentlewoman,  and  lovyng  her 
housbande  as  an  honest  woman  ought  to  doe,  saied  to  her  in 
aunswere  of  her  talke,  that  she  would  bee  right  glad  to  see  her 
housbande  to  be  suche  a  man  as  she  wished  hym  to  be  and  as 
he  ought  to  be  ;  but  that  since  she  sawe  it  would  not  be,  and 
that  he  could  not  frame  hymself  thereto,  she  would  not  take 
from  hym  or  barre  hym  of  that  libertie,  whiche  either  the  cus- 
tome  of  the  corrupted  worlde,  or  the  priviledge  that  men  had 
usurped  unto  themselves,  had  given  unto  them,  and  that  she 
would  never,  for  her  part,  violate  or  breake  that  faithe  whiche 
she  had  given  hym,  nor  slacke  or  neclect  that  care  and  regarde 
of  her  honour  whiche  all  women  by  kinde  and  nature  ought 
to  have,  as  the  thing  that  maketh  them  to  bee  most  com 
mended  throughout  the  worlde,  let  her  housbande  doe  what 
he  list,  and  like  and  love  as  many  other  women  as  pleased  hym.. 
And  that  she  thought  herself  so  muche  the  rather  bounde  so 
to  doe,  because  he  did  not  in  the  rest  misuse  her  any  waie,  or 
suffer  her  to  want  anything  that  reasonably  she  could  desire 
or  crave  at  his  hands  ;  and  for  that  she  had  not  brought  hym 
in  effect  any  other  dowrie,  worthie  to  bee  accompted  of,  then 
her  honestie  :  wherefore,  she  was  fully  resolved  never  to  varie 
from  that  constant  resolution.  And  finally,  shewyng  herself 
somewhat  moved  and  stirred  with  choler,  she  tolde  her  that 
she  marvailed  at  her  not  a  little  (that  beyng  a  woman  of  those 
yeres)  that  she  should  rather  reprehend  and  chide  yong  folke, 
if  she  should  see  them  so  bent,  then  encourage  them  to  evill, 


XXIX 

and  mused  much  she  could  finde  in  her  harte  to  give  her  suche 
counsell ;  whiche  she  assured  her  was  so  displeasant  and  so 
ungrateful,  as  if  from  henceforthe  she  durst  presume  to  speake 
thereof  any  more,  she  would  make  her  understande,  per- 
chaunce  to  her  smarte,  how  ill  she  could  awaie  with  suche 
pandarly  practises. 

This  olde  hag,  havyng  had  her  head  washed  thus  without 
sope,  departed  from  Agatha,  and  came  unto  the  Scholler  and 
tolde  hym  in  breefe  how  ill  she  had  sped,  and  in  what  sorte 
the  honest  gentlewoman  had  closed  her  mouth  ;  whereof  the 
Scholler  was  very  sory  :  yet,  for  all  this,  he  thought  he  would 
not  give  over  his  pursute,  imaginyng  that  there  is  no  harte  so 
harde  or  flintie,  but  by  long  love,  by  perseverance,  praier, 
and  teares,  maie  in  the  ende  be  mollified  and  wrought  to  be 
tender. 

In  this  meane  season,  Gonsales,  still  continuyng  his  olde 
familiaritie  with  the  Scholer,  and  havyng  made  hym  privie  of 
the  love  he  bare  unto  the  courtisane,  and  what  a  greefe  it  was 
unto  him  to  see  her  enjoyed  by  any  other  then  by  himself,  one 
daie,  among  other  talke  betwene  them  of  that  matter,  he  saied 
unto  the  Scholer,  that  it  never  grieved  hym  so  muche  to  have 
a  wife  as  it  did  then,  for  that  if  he  had  bin  unmarried,  he  would 
have  taken  Aselgia  (for  so  was  the  courtisane  named)  to  be 
his  wife,  without  whom  he  could  finde  no  rest  nor  quiete  in 
mynde  ;  and  so  long  as  every  man  hath  a  share  with  hym  in 
her,  he  accompted  himself  as  ill  as  if  he  had  had  no  parte  in  her 
at  all :  and  thereto  saied  further,  that  assuredly  if  it  were  not  for 
feare  of  the  lawe,  he  would  ease  hymself  of  that  burden  by 
riddyng  of  Agatha  out  of  the  worlde. 

Thereunto  replied  the  Scholer,  saiyng,  that  in  deede  it  was 
a  grievous  thyng  for  a  gentleman  to  be  combred  with  a  wife 
whom  he  could  not  finde  in  his  harte  to  love;  and  that  in  suche 
a  case,  he  that  did  seeke  the  best  waie  he  could  to  deliver 
hymself  of  that  yoke,  was  not  altogether  unexcusable,  though 
the  rigor  of  justice  had  appointed  severe  punishementes  for 
suche  as  violentlie  should  attempt  or  execute  any  suche  thyng  : 
but  that  men,  that  were  wise,  could  well  enough  finde  out  the 
meanes  whiche  waie  to  woorke  their  ententes,  without  incur- 
ryng  any  daunger  of  the  lawe  for  the  matter. 


XXX 

Whiche  language,  indeede,  he  used  unto  hym  but  to  feede 
his  humour,  and  to  see  whereunto  that  talke  in  fine  would 
tende,  and  accordyng  to  his  desire,  before  it  was  long,  Gonsa- 
les,  havyng  used  the  like  speeches  twoo  or  three  tymes,  and 
still  findyng  hym  to  soothe  his  saiyng,  tooke  one  daie  a  good 
harte  unto  him,  and  brake  his  minde  unto  the  Scholer  at  large, 
and  in  plaine  termes,  to  this  effecte. 

Alonso,  (for  that  was  the  scholer's  name)  I  doe  assure  my 
self,  and  make  full  accompt,  that  thou  art  my  taste  freende,  as  I 
am  thyne,  and  I  doubte  not  but  that  the  freendship  whiche  is 
betweene  us,  doeth  make  thee  no  lesse  sorie  then  myself  to 
see  me  greeve  with  this  continuall  trouble  of  mynde  wherein  I 
live,  because  I  can  not  compasse  to  take  this  woman  whom  I 
love  so  dearely  to  bee  my  wife,  and  by  that  meanes  come  to 
have  the  full  possession  of  her  unto  myself,  whiche  is  the 
thyng  I  doe  desire  above  all  other  thinges  in  the  worlde.  And 
for  as  muche  as  I  dooe  perswade  myself  that  by  thy  meanes, 
and  with  the  helpe  of  thy  profession,  I  maie  happ  to  finde 
some  remedie  for  my  greef,  I  have  thought  good  to  tell  thee  a 
conceit  whiche  I  have  thought  on  often  tymes,  wherein  I 
meane  to  use  thee  and  thy  assistance  for  the  better  accomplish- 
yng  of  my  purpose  in  that  behalfe,  assuryng  myself  that  thou 
wilte  not  refuse  or  denie  me  any  furtheraunce  that  thy  skill 
maie  aforde  me,  or  shrinke  and  drawe  backe  from  the  perfor- 
myng  of  any  freendly  offer,  whereby  I  maie  come  by  to  finde 
some  ease  of  minde,  and  be  delivered  of  that  intolerable  tor 
ment  of  spirite  wherewith  I  am  oppressed,  for  the  love  of 
this  Aselgia,  in  whom  I  have  fixed  and  sette  all  my  joyes  and 
delightes.  Thou  shalte,  therefore,  understande  that  I  am  deter 
mined,  as  soone  as  I  can  possible,  to  ridde  my  handes  of  Agatha 
my  wife,  and  by  one  meane  or  other  to  cause  her  to  dye.  And  I 
have  been  a  this  good  while  about  the  execution  of  this  my 
entent ;  but  because  I  could  never  yet  devise  the  beste  waie  to 
performe  it,  so  that  her  death  might  not  bee  laied  unto  my 
charge,  I  have  delaied  it  hetherto,  and  perforce  contente  to 
beare  the  heavie  burthen  of  my  greeved  mynde  till  nowe, 
whiche  henceforwarde  I  am  resolved  to  beare  no  longer,  if 
thou  wilt,  accordyng  to  my  trust  in  thee  and  as  the  freendship 
whiche  is  betweene  us  doeth  require,  graunt  me  thy  further- 


XXXI 

ance  and  helpyng  hande.  Wherefore,  knowyng  that  through 
thy  long  studie  in  phisicke  thou  haste  attained  so  greate  know 
ledge,  that  thou  canst  devise  a  noumber  of  secretes,  whereof 
any  one  might  bee  sufficiente  to  bryng  my  purpose  to  efifecte, 
I  dooe  require  thce  to  fulfill  my  desire  in  that  behalfe,  and  to 
give  me  thy  helpe  to  bryng  this  my  desire  to  passe  :  whiche  if 
thou  doe,  I  will  acknowledge  myself  so  long  as  I  shall  live  to 
bee  so  muche  bounde  unto  thee,  that  thou  shalt  commaunde 
me  and  all  that  I  have,  in  any  occasion  of  thine,  as  freelie  and 
as  boldlie  as  thou  maiest  now  any  thing  that  is  thine  owne. 

The  Scholer,  when  he  had  heard  Gonsales  and  his  demaunde, 
stoode  still  awhile,  as  musyng  upon  the  requeste,  and  in  the 
meane  while  discoursed  with  hymself,  how  by  the  occasion  of 
this  entente  and  resolution  of  Gonsales  he  might  perhappes 
finde  out  a  waie  to  come  by  the  possession  of  Agatha,  and  to 
have  her  in  his  handes  and  at  his  devotion,  But,  keepyng 
secrete  his  thoughtes  and  meanyng,  he  made  hym  aunswere, 
that  true  it  was  that  he  wanted  not  secrete  compassions,  to 
make  (olke  dye  with  poison,  so  as  it  could  never  bee  discerned 
by  any  phisition  or  other,  whether  the  cause  were  violent 
or  no,  but  that  for  twoo  respectes  he  thought  it  not  good  to 
yeeld  unto  his  requeste  :  the  one,  for  that  phisicke  and  phisi- 
tions  were  appoincted  in  the  worlde,  not  to  bereve  menne  of 
their  lives,  but  to  preserve  them  and  to  cure  them  of  suche 
diseases  as  were  daungerous  and  perillous  unto  theim  :  the 
other,  because  he  did  forsee  in  what  jeoperdie  he  should  putte 
his  owne  life,  whensoever  he  should  dispose  hymself  to  woorke 
any  suche  practise,  consideryng  how  severely  the  lawes  have 
prescribed  punishementes  for  suche  offences  :  and  that  it 
might  fall  out,  how  warely  soever  the  thing  were  wrought, 
that  by  some  seldome  or  unlocked  for  accident  the  matter 
might  be  discovered,  (as  for  the  moste  parte  it  seemeth  that 
God  will  have  it)  in  whiche  case  he  were  like  to  encurre  no 
lesse  daunger  then  Gonsales,  and  bothe  (assured)  without 
remission  to  lose  their  lives.  And  that,  therefore,  he  would  not 
for  the  first  respect  take  upon  hym  to  doe  that  whiche  was 
contrarie  to  his  profession ;  nor  for  the  seconde,  hazarde  his 
life  to  so  certaine  a  daunger,  for  so  hatefull  a  thing  as  those 
practises  are  to  all  the  worlde. 


XXXII 

Gonsales,  verie  sorie  to  heare  his  deniall,  told  hym  that  the 
lawes  and  dueties  of  freendship  doeth  dispense  well  enough 
with  a  manne,  though  for  his  freende  he  straine  sometyme  his 
conscience;  and,  therefore,  he  hoped  that  he  would  not  for 
sake  hym  in  a  cause  that  concerned  hym  so  weightilie  as  that 
did.  And  that  neither  of  those  twoo  respectes  (if  thei  were 
well  considered)  ought  to  bee  able  to  remove  hym  from  plea- 
suryng  of  his  freende  ;  for  that  now  adaies,  aswell  were  they 
accompted  and  estemed  phisitions  that  killed  their  pacientes, 
as  thei  that  did  cure  them  :  and  because  the  thing  beyng  kept 
secret  betweene  them  twoo  alone,  he  needed  not  to  doubt,  or 
feare  any  daunger  of  his  life  by  the  lawe  ;  for  if  it  should  by 
any  mischaunce  happen  that  he  should  bee  imputed  or  bur- 
thened  with  poisonyng  of  his  wife,  he  assured  hym  that  he 
would  never,  whilest  he  had  breathe,  confesse  of  whom  he 
had  the  poison,  but  would  rather  suffer  his  tongue  to  be  pulled 
out  of  his  hedde,  or  endure  any  torment  that  might  be  devised. 

The  Scholler,  at  the  laste,  seemyng  to  bee  wonne  by  the  ear- 
neste  of  his  petition,  saied,  that  upon  that  condition  and  pro- 
messe  of  not  revealyng  him  at  any  tyme,  he  would  be  content 
rather  to  shewe  hymself  freendlie  unto  hym,  then  a  true  pro 
fessor  of  his  science,  or  an  exact  regarder  of  his  conscience, 
and  that  he  would  doe  as  he  would  have  hym. 

And,  havyng  lefte  Gonsales  verie  glad  and  joy  full  for  that  his 
promesse,  he  w7enthome,  and  made  a  certaine  composition  or 
mixture  of  pouders,  the  vertue  whereof  was  suche,  that  it  would 
make  them  that  tooke  any  quantitie  thereof  to  slepe  so  soundlie, 
that  thei  should  for  the  space  of  certaine  howers  seme  unto  all 
menne  to  bee  starke  dedde.  And  the  nexte  daie  he  retourned 
to  Gonsales,  and  to  deliver  it  unto  hym,  saiyng  :  Gonsales,  you 
have  caused  me  to  dooe  a  thyng  I  proteste  I  would  not  dooe 
it  for  my  life ;  but  since  you  maie  see,  thereby,  that  I  have 
regarded  more  your  freendshippe  then  my  duetie,  or  the  con 
sideration  of  that  whiche  is  honest  and  lawfull,  I  must  require 
you  eftsones  to  remember  your  promesse,  and  that  you  will 
not  declare  to  any  creature  livyng,  that  you  have  had  this 
poison  of  me. 

Whiche  thinge  Gonsales  verie  constauntlie  upon  his  othe 
did  promise  hym  againe;  and  havyng  taken  the  pouder  of  him, 


XXXIII 

asked  hym  in  what  sorte  he  was  to  use  it  ?  And  he  tolde  hym, 
that  if  at  supper  he  did  caste  it  there  upon  her  meate,  or 
into  her  brothe,  she  should  dye  that  night  followyng,  without 
either  paine  or  tormente,  or  any  greevous  accidentes,  but 
goe  awaie  even  as  though  she  were  asleape.  That  evenyng, 
at  supper  tyme,  Gonsales  failed  not  to  put  the  pouder  into 
his  wife's  potage,  who  havyng  taken  it,  as  sone  as  supper 
was  doen,  feelyng  herself  verie  heavie  and  drousie,  went  to 
her  chamber  and  gatte  her  to  bedde,  (for  she  laie  not  with 
Gonsales  but  when  he  liste  to  call  her,  whiche  had  been 
verie  seldome,  since  he  did  fall  into  love  with  the  strumpet) 
and,  within  an  hower  after,  the  operation  of  the  pouder  tooke 
suche  force  in  her  bodie,  that  she  laye  as  though  she  had  been 
dedde,  and  altogether  sencelesse.  Gonsales,  in  like  sort,  when 
he  sawe  his  tyme,  went  to  his  bed,  and  liyng  all  that  night 
with  a  troubled  minde,  thinking  what  would  become  of  Agatha, 
and  what  successe  his  enterprise  would  take,  the  mornyng 
came  upon  hym  before  he  could  once  close  his  eyes  ;  whiche 
beeyng  come,  he  rose,  not  doubtyng  but  that  he  should  assured- 
lie  finde  his  wife  dedde,  as  Alonso  had  promised  hym. 

As  soone  as  he  was  up  he  went  out  of  his  house,  and  staied 
but  an  hower  abroade,  and  then  he  retourned  home  again,  and 
asked  his  maide  whether  her  mistres  were  up  or  no.  The 
maide  made  hym  aunswere,  that  she  was  yet  asleape  ;  and  he, 
makyng  as  though  he  had  marveiled  at  her  long  liyng  in  bedde, 
demaunded  her  how  it  happened  that  she  was  so  sluggishe 
that  mornyng,  contrarie  to  her  custome,  whiche  was  to  rise 
every  mornyng  by  breake  of  the  daie,  and  badd  her  goe  and 
wake  her,  lor  he  would  have  her  to  give  hym  somethyng  that 
laye  under  her  keyes.  The  wenche,  according  to  her  maister's 
commaundement,  went  to  her  mistres  beddeside,  and  havyng 
called  her  once  or  twise  somewhat  softely,  when  she  sawe 
she  waked  not,  she  laied  her  hand  upon  her,  and  givyng  her  a 
shagge,  she  saied  withall,  Mistres,  awake  !  my  maister  calleth 
for  you.  But  she  liyng  still,  and  not  awakyng  for  all  that  the 
maide  tooke  her  by  the  arme,  and  beganne  to  shake  her  good 
and  hard,  and  she,  notwithstandyng,  nether  answeryng,  nor 
stirryng  hande  or  foote,  the  maide  retourned  to  her  maister, 
and  tolde  hym  that  for  aught  she  could  doe  she  could  not  gett 


XXXIV 

her  mistres  to  awake.  Gonsales,  hearyng  the  maide  to  sale  so, 
was  glad  in  his  mynde  ;  but  fainyng  hymself  to  be  busied 
about  somwhat  els,  and  that  he  regarded  little  her  speeche,  he 
bidde  her  goe  againe,  and  shake  her  till  she  did  waken.  The 
maide  did  so,  and  rolled  and  tumbled  her  in  her  bed,  and  all 
in  vaine  :  wherefore,  commyng  againe  unto  her  maister,  she 
saied  unto  hym,  that  undoubtedly  she  did  beleeve  that  her 
mistres,  his  wife,  was  dedde,  for  she  had  founde  her  verie 
colde,  and  rolled  her  up  and  doune  the  bedde,  and  that  yet 
she  stirred  not. 

What!  dedde?  quoth  Gonsales,  as  if  he  had  been  all  agaste  and 
amazed  ;  and  risyng  there  withall,  he  went  to  her  beddes  side, 
and  called  her,  and  shaked  her,  and  wrong  her  by  the  fingers, 
and  did  all  that  might  bee,  as  he  thought,  to  see  whether  she 
were  alive.  But  she,  not  feelyng  anything  that  he  did,  laie  still 
like  a  dedde  boddie,  or  rather  like  a  stone. 

Wherefore,  when  he  sawe  his  purpose  had  taken  so  good 
effecte,  to  dissemble  the  matter  he  beganne  to  crie  out,  and  to 
lament,  and  to  detest  his  cruell  destinie,  that  had  so  sone 
bereved  hym  of  so  kind,  so  honest,  and  so  faithiull  a  wife  :  and 
having  in  the  ende  discovered  her  bodie,  and  finding  no  spot 
or  marke  whereby  any  token  or  signe  of  poisonyng  might  be 
gathered,  as  one  that  would  not  seme  to  omit  any  office  of  a 
lovyng  husband,  he  sent  for  the  phisition  to  loke  upon  her; 
who,  havyng  used  some  suche  meanes  as  he  thought  mete  to 
make  her  come  to  herself,  finally,  seyng  her  to  remaine  unmo- 
veable,  and  without  sence,  concluded  that  some  sodaine  acci 
dent  had  taken  her  in  the  night,  whereof  she  had  died,  and  for 
dead  he  left  her. 

At  whiche  his  resolution,  though  Gonsales  were  very  glad, 
yet  to  the  outward  shewe  declaryng  hymself  to  be  verie  sone, 
ard  full  of  woe  and  heavinesse,  he  behaved  hymself  in  suche 
cunnyng  sorte,  as  he  made  all  the  worlde  beleeve  that  he  would 
not  long  live  after  her  :  and  havyng  called  her  freendes,  and 
lamented  with  them  her  sodaine  death  and  his  misfortune,  in 
fine,  he  caused  her  funerall  to  bee  very  sumptuouslie  and 
honourably  prepared,  and  buried  her  in  a  vaute,  whiche  served 
for  a  toumbe  to  all  his  ancestours,  in  a  churche  of  a  fricrie 
that  standes  without  the  citie. 


AAAV 

Alonso,  that  was  verie  well  acquainted  with  the  place,  and 
had  hymself  a  house  not  verie  farre  from  that  frierie,  wente 
his  waie  that  same  night  unto  his  saied  house,  and  when  he 
sawe  the  tyme  to  serve  for  his  purpose,  he  gatte  hym  to  the 
vaute  or  toumbe  wherein  Agatha  was  laied,  with  one  of  these 
little  lanterns  that  thei  call  blinde  lanterns,  because  thei  tourne 
them,  and  hide  their  lite  when  thei  liste.  And  because  he  was 
a  yong  manne  of  verie  good  strengthe,  and  had  brought  with 
hym  instrumentes  of  iron  to  open  the  toumbe,  and  lifte  up  the 
stone  that  covered  it,  he  gatte  it  open,  and  havyng  under 
propped  it  surely,  he  went  into  the  vaute,  and  toke  the  woman 
straight  waie  in  his  armes,  minding  to  bryng  her  out,  and 
carrie  her  awaie  so  asleape  as  she  was.  But  the  force  and 
vertue  of  the  pouder  beeyng  finished  and  spent,  assone  as  he 
moved  her  she  awaked  out  of  her  sleape,  and  seyng  herself 
clad  in  that  sorte,  emong  ragges  and  dedde  bones,  she  beganne 
to  tremble,  and  to  crie  :  Alas  !  where  am  I  ?  or  who  hath 
brought  me  hether,  wretche  that  I  am  ?  —  Marie,  that  hath 
your  cruell  and  unfaithfull  housebande,  aunswered  the  Scho- 
ler;  who  havyng  poisoned  you,  to  marrie  a  common  strumpet, 
hath  buried  you  here,  whether  I  come  to  trie  if  by  my  skill 
I  could  revive  you,  and  call  backe  your  soule,  by  those  reme 
dies  whiche  I  had  devised,  unto  your  bodie  againe  :  whiche  if 
I  could  not  have  doen  as  I  entended,  I  was  resolved  to  have 
died  here  by  you,  and  to  have  laied  my  dedde  bodie  here  by 
yours,  to  reste  until  the  latter  daie,  hopyng  that  my  spirite 
should  in  the  meane  while  have  come  and  enjoyed  yours, 
wherever  it  had  been.  But  since  the  heavens  have  been  so 
favourable  unto  me,  as  in  this  extreame  daunger  wherein  you 
were,  to  graunt  suche  vertue  unto  the  remedies  whiche  I  have 
used  toward  you,  as  the  whiche  I  have  been  able  to  keepe 
undissolved  your  gentle  spirite  with  your  faire  bodie,  I  hope 
(my  deare)  that  you  wil  hencetbrthe  consider  what  the  affec 
tion  of  your  wicked  housbande  hath  been  toward  you,  and 
how  greate  good  will,  and  by  consideration  thereof,  discerne 
and  resolve  whiche  of  us  twoo  hath  beste  deserved  to  be 
beloved  of  you. 

Agatha,  findyng  herself  in  that  sort  buried  in  deede,  did 
easily  beleeve  the  truthe  whiche  the  Scholer  told  her,  and  to 


XXXVI 

her  self  concluded  that  her  housebande  had  shewed  hymself, 
in  her  behalf,  a  man  of  all  other  moste  cruell  and  disloyall. 
Wherfore,  tournyng  herself  toward  the  Scholer,  she  saied 
unto  hym. 

Alonso,  I  can  not  deny  but  that  my  housebande  hath  been 
to  me  not  onely  unkinde,  but  cruelll  also  :  nor  I  can  not  but 
confesse  that  you  have  declared  yourself  to  bee  moste  lovyng 
and  affectioned  toward  me  :  and  offeree  I  must  acknowledge 
myself  beholdyng  unto  you,  of  no  lesse  then  of  my  life,  since 
(alas  !)  I  see  myself  here  emong  dedde  bodies,  buried  alive. 
But  for  as  muche,  as  though  my  housebande  have  broken  his 
vow  to  me,  I  have  not  yet  at  any  tyme  failed  my  faithe  to  hym, 
I  doe  require  you,  that  if  you  desire  that  I  should  esteeme  this 
kind  and  lovyng  office  of  yours  as  it  deserveth  to  bee  esteemed, 
or  make  accompt  of  this  life  whiche  you  have  given  me,  you 
will  have  due  regarde  and  consideration  of  myne  honestie, 
and  that  you  will  not,  by  offeryng  me  any  villainie,  (whiche 
neverthelesse  I  can  not  any  waie  misdoubte,  where  I  have 
alwaies  founde  so  muche  and  so  greate  courtesie)  make  this 
your  courteous  and  pitifull  acte  to  bee  lesse  commendable 
and  praise  worthie  then  it  is  :  whiche,  if  you  dooe  bridle  your 
unlawfull  and  sensuall  appetite  and  desire,  will  remaine  the 
moste  vertuous  and  worthie  of  honour  and  fame,  that  ever 
courteous  gentleman  hath  doen  for  a  miserable  woman,  since 
the  worlde  began. 

Alonso  failed  not  with  affectuall  and  manifest  argumentes 
to  perswade  her,  that  her  housband  had  now  no  more  right 
or  title  to  her  at  all ;  and  that  although  he  had,  yet,  if  she  were 
wise,  she  should  not  committe  herself  unto  his  courtesie  againe, 
since,  by  this  mortall  token,  he  had  given  her  a  sufficient 
testimonie  of  his  ranckor  and  evill  will  towardes  her,  whereby 
she  might  well  enough  bee  assured  not  to  escape,  whensoever 
she  should  resolve  to  putte  herself  againe  into  his  handcs  : 
and  that,  therefore,  she  was  not  to  make  any  accompt  of  hym, 
but  to  shewe  herself  thankfull  for  so  greate  a  benefite  as  she 
had  received,  and  to  requite  hym  so  with  her  favour  and  cour 
tesie,  as  he  might  now  in  the  ende  attaine  to  gather  the  fruite 
of  his  long  and  constaunte  good  will,  and  of  his  travell  sus- 
teined  for  the  saffegarde  of  her  life.  And  with  those  woordes 


XXXVII 

bendyng  hymself  towarde  her,  he  would  have  taken  a  kisse 
of  her  lippes,  but  Agatha,  thrustyng  hym  backe,  saied  to  hym 
again. 

If  my  housebande  (Alonso)  have  broken  those  bandes,  where 
with  I  was  knit  unto  hym  by  matrimonie,  through  his  wicked 
and  leude  demeanour,  yet  have  not  I  for  my  parte  dissolved 
theim,  neither  will  I  at  any  tyme,  so  long  as  I  shall  live.  As 
for  committyng  myself  unto  his  courtesie,  or  goyng  any  more 
into  his  handes,  therein  I  thinke  it  good  to  followe  your 
advise  :  not  that  I  would  bee  unwillyng  to  live  and  dwell 
with  hym,  if  I  might  hope  to  finde  hym  better  disposed,  but 
because  I  would  be  lothe  to  fall  eftsones  into  the  like  daunger 
and  grevous  perill.  And  as  for  requityng  you  for  this  your 
commendable  travaile  in  my  behalfe,  I  knowe  not  what  better 
recompence  I  am  able  to  give  you,  then  to  rest  bounde  unto 
you  for  ever,  and  to  acknowledge  myself  beholdyng  unto 
your  courtesie  for  my  life ;  whiche  obligation,  if  it  male  satisfie 
you,  I  will  be  as  glad  and  as  content  as  I  male  bee  in  this 
miserable  state  wherein  I  am.  But  if  your  meanyng  perchance 
bee,  that  the  losse  of  myne  honestie  should  bee  the  rewarde 
and  hire  for  your  paines,  I  dooe  beseche  you  to  departe  hence 
out  of  this  toumbe,  and  to  leave  me  here  enclosed;  for  I  had 
rather  dye  here,  thus  buried  quicke  through  the  crueltie  of 
my  housband,  then  through  any  such  compassion  or  pitie  to 
save  my  life,  with  the  losse  of  myne  honour  and  good  name. 

The  Scholar  by  those  wordes  perceived  well  enough  the 
honest  disposition  of  Agatha,  whiche  he  wondered  at,  con- 
sideryng  that  the  terror  of  death  it  self  was  not  able  once  to 
move  her  from  her  faithfulnes  and  constancie  of  minde.  And 
though  it  were  grievous  unto  him  to  finde  her  so  stedfast, 
yet  hopyng  that  by  tyme  in  the  ende  he  might  overcome 
her  chaste  and  honest  purpose,  aunswered,  that  he  could  not 
but  commende  her  for  her  disposition,  though  he  deserved  a 
kinder  recompence  of  his  long  and  fervent  love,  and  she  a 
more  lovyng  and  faithfull  housbande.  But  since  she  was  so 
resolved,  he  would  frame  himself  to  be  content  with  what  she 
would,  and  not  crave  of  her  any  thyng  that  she  would  not 
willingly  graunt  hym  to  have.  And  therewith  helpyng  her  out 
of  the  sepulcher,  he  led  her  home  unto  his  house,  and  lefte 


XXXVIII 

her  there  with  an  olde  woman  that  kept  his  house,  to  whom  he 
recomended  her,  and  whose  helpe  he  was  assured  of,  to  dispose 
the  good  will  of  Agatha  towardes  hym,  and  the  next  mornyng 
retourned  into  the  citie. 

Gonsales,  after  a  fewe  daies,  seeming  not  to  be  able  to  live 
without  a  wife  to  take  care  of  his  familie,  wedded  that  honest 
dame,  Aselgia,  and  made  her  mistres  of  hymself  and  all  that 
he  had.  This,  his  newe  manage,  so  sone  contrived,  caused  the 
freendes  of  Agatha  to  marvaile  not  a  little,  and  to  misdoubte 
that  the  sodaine  death  of  their  kinsewoman  had  not  happened 
without  some  misterie.  Neverthelesse,  havyng  no  token,  nor 
evidence,  or  profe,  thei  helde  their  peace.  But  Gonsales 
havyng  his  desired  purpose,  and  livyng  with  his  newe  wife,  it 
befell  unto  hym  (through  Goddes  just  judgement  with  this  his 
joly  dame)  as  it  chaunced  to  Agatha  with  hym  before  ;  for 
Aselgia,  that  was  never  wont  to  feede  with  so  spare  a  diet, 
as  she  that  had  never  bin  contented  before  without  greate 
chaunge,  nor  had  not  bin  used  to  that  kinde  of  straightnes 
(which  Gonsales,  growing  jelous  of  her,  began  to  keepe  her  in) 
but  had  alwaies  lived  at  libertie,  and  with  suche  licentious- 
nesse,  as  women  of  her  profession  are  wont  to  doe,  became 
in  shorte  space  to  shewe  herself  so  precise  unto  hym,  and  to 
hate  and  abhorre  hym  in  suche  extreme  sorte,  that  she  could 
not  abide  to  see,  or  heare  hym  spoken  of  :  by  occasion  of 
whiche  her  demeanour  towardes  hym,. Gonsales,  to  his  greefe, 
began  at  last  to  knowe  and  to  discerne  what  difference  there 
is  betweene  the  honest  and  carefull  love  of  an  honest  wife, 
and  the  dissemblyng  of  an  arrant  strumpet.  Wherefore  one 
daie,  among  the  rest,  complainyng  of  the  little  love  whiche 
he  perceived  she  bare  hym,  and  she  aunsweryng  hymthawartly, 
Gonsales,  fallyng  into  heate  of  choler,  saied  angedy  unto  her. 
Have  I,  thou  naughtie  packe,  poysoned  Agatha  for  thy  sake, 
that  was  the  kindest  and  the  lovingest  wife  that  ever  man  had? 
and  is  this  the  rewarde  I  have,  and  the  requitall  thou  yeeld- 
est  me,  to  shewe  thyself  every  daie  more  despightefull  and 
crabbed  than  other?  —  Aselgia  havyng  heard  hym,  and  noted 
well  his  wordes,  tooke  holde  of  them,  and  straight  waie  thought 
that  she  had  founde  the  waie  to  rid  herself  of  Gonsales  :  where 
fore  she  reveiled  his  speeches  unto  a  ribalde  of  hers,  such 


XXXIX 

a  one  as  supplied  her  want  of  that  which  Gonsales  alone,  nor 
ten  suche  as  he  were  able  to  satisfie  her  withall,  and  induced 
hym  to  appeache  hym  for  that  facte,  assuryng  herself  that  the 
lawe  would  punishe  hym  with  no  lesse  then  death,  and  thereby 
she  to  remaine  at  libertie  to  dooe  what  she  list  againe,  as  she 
had  doen  before.  This  companion  accused  Gonsales  upon  his 
owne  wordes  unto  the  freendes  of  Agatha,  who,  havyng  had 
halfe  a  suspition  thereof  before,  went  and  accused  him  likewise 
before  the  judge,  or  hed  magistrate  of  the  citie;  whereupon 
Gonsales  and  his  woman  were  both  apprehended,  and  put  to 
their  examinations,  to  searche  out  the  truthe  ;  which  Gonsales 
being  halfe  convicted  by  the  confession  of  the  gentle  peate,  his 
new  wife,  but  chiefly  grieved  with  the  worme  of  his  owne  con 
science,  and  to  avoyde  the  torment  of  those  terrors  which  he 
knewe  were  prepared  for  him,  confessed  flatly,  affirmyng  that 
he  had  poysoned  her  with  a  poysone  which  he  had  kept  of 
long  tyme  before  in  his  house,  perfourmyng  yet  therein  the 
promise  whiche  he  had  made  unto  the  Scholer.  And  upon  his 
owne  confession  sentence  was  given  against  hym,  that  he 
should  loose  his  hed. 

Alonso,  when  he  understoode  that  Gonsales  was  condemned 
to  dye,  was  very  glad  thereof,  supposyng  that  he  beeyng 
once  dead,  Agatha  (who  all  this  while,  for  any  thy  ng  that  the 
olde  woman  could  saie  or  alledge  unto  her  in  the  behalfe  of 
Alonso,  would  never  yeeld  or  consent  to  any  one  poincte 
wherein  her  honour  might  have  beene  touched  or  spotted) 
should  remaine  at  his  discretion,  and  that  she  would  no  longer 
refuse  to  graunt  hym  her  good  will,  when  she  should  see  her 
self  delivered  of  Gonsales.  But  the  daie  beyng  come  wherein 
he  was  to  be  put  to  execution,  she  havyng  had  inteligence  of 
all  that  had  passed,  and  knowyng  that  he  was  appointed  to 
dye  that  daie,  determined  with  herself  that  she  would  in  that 
extremitie  deliver  her  disloyall  housebande,  and  give  hym  to 
understande  how  little  she  had  deserved  to  bee  so  entreated 
by  hym  as  she  had  been.  Wherefore,  havyng  gotten  out  of 
Al(f)onso  his  house,  she  hied  her  unto  the  citie  as  fast  as  she 
could,  and  beeyng  before  the  justice  or  magistrate  she  saied 
unto  him  :  Sir,  Gonsales,  whom  you  have  condemned  and 
commaunded  to  be  put  to  death  this  daie,  is  wrongfully  con- 


XL 

demned;  for  it  is  not  true  that  he  hath  poysoned  his  wife, 
but  she  is  yet  alive,  and  I  am  she  :  therefore,  I  beseche  you, 
give  order  that  execution  maie  be  staied,  since  that  your 
sentence  grounded  upon  a  false  enformation  and  confession, 
is  unjust,  as  you  maie  plainly  discerne,  by  me  beyng  here. 

When  the  governour  heard  Agatha  speake  in  this  sorte, 
whom  he  had  thought  to  have  been  deade  and  buried,  he  was 
all  amazed,  and  halfe  afraied  to  looke  upon  her,  doubtyng  that 
she  was  rather  her  spirite  or  ghoste,  or  some  other  in  her 
likenesse,  then  a  lively  woman  in  deede;  for  she  was  apparelled 
in  a  very  plaine  and  black  attyre,  and  was  very  wanne  and 
pale,  by  reason  of  the  affliction  whiche  she  had  indured,  first 
for  her  owne  ill  fortune,  and  then  for  the  mischaunce  of  her 
housband. 

In  this  meane  while  the  sergantes  and  officers  had  brought 
Gonsales  before  the  justice  or  magistrate,  to  the  ende  that  he 
(accordyng  to  the  custome  of  the  citie)  should  give  them  com- 
maundement  to  leade  hym  to  the  place  of  execution,  and  there 
to  fulfill  his  sentence  upon  him;  but  as  sone  as  Agatha  percei 
ved  hym,  she  ranne  unto  hym,  and  takyng  hym  aboute  the 
necke,  and  kissing  him,  she  said,  Alas  !  my  deare  housebande, 
whereunto  doe  I  see  you  brought  through  your  owne  folly  and 
disordinate  appetite,  which  blinded  your  judgement  ?  Beholde 
here  your  Agatha  alive,  and  not  deade;  who  even  in  this  extre- 
mitie  is  come  to  shewe  herself  that  lovyng  and  faithfull  wife 
unto  you  that  she  was  ever. 

The  justice  or  governour,  seyng  this  straunge  accident, 
caused  execution  to  be  staied,  and  signified  the  whole  case 
unto  the  lorde  of  the  countrey,  who  at  that  tyme  chaunced  to 
be  at  Sciville  :  who,  wonderyng  no  lesse  then  the  other  at  the 
matter,  caused  bothe  Gonsales  and  his  wife  to  be  brought 
before  him,  and  demaunded  of  them  how  it  had  chaunced  that 
she,  havyng  bin  buried  for  deade,  was  now  found  alive  ?  Gon 
sales  could  saie  nothyng,  but  that  for  the  love  he  bare  unto 
Aselgia  he  had  poysoned  his  wife,  and  that  he  knewe  not  how 
she  was  revived  againe.  But  Agatha  declared  how  the  Scholler, 
with  his  skill,  had  delivered  her  from  death,  and  restored  her 
life  unto  her,  but  how  or  by  what  meanes  she  could  not  tell. 

The  Lorde  havyng  sent  for  Alonso,  and  demaunded  hym  oi 


XLI 

the  truth,  was  certified  by  hym,  how  that  in  steede  of  poison 
he  had  given  to  Gonsales  a  pouder  to  make  her  sleape;  afifirm- 
yng  likewise,  that  notwithstandyng  the  long  and  earneste 
pursuite  whiche  he  had  made  to  obtaine  her  love,  and  the 
crueltie  and  injurie  whiche  she  sawe  her  housebande  had  used 
towarde  her,  to  put  her  in  that  daunger  and  perill  of  her  life, 
out  of  whiche  he  had  delivered  her,  yet  could  he  never  by  any 
perswasion  or  entreatie  winne  her  to  fulfill  his  desire,  or 
bryng  her  to  make  breache  of  her  faithe  and  honestie.  By 
whiche  reporte  the  Lorde  knewe  verie  well,  that  in  an  honest 
woman  the  regarde  and  respect  of  her  honour  and  chastitie 
doeth  farre  exceade  any  other  passion,  for  any  miserie,  be  it 
never  so  great;  and  commendyng  highly  the  love  and  constan- 
cie  of  the  woman  towarde  her  housebande,  and  praisyng  the 
pollicie  of  Alonso,  he  tourned  hymself  unto  Gonsales,  and 
saied  unto  hym.  Full  evill  hast  thou  deserved  to  have  so  good 
and  so  verteous  a  gentlewoman  to  thy  wife,  and  in  reason  she 
ought  now  rather  to  be  Alonso  his*wife  then  thine  :  neither 
wert  thou  worthie  of  lesse  then  that  punishment  which  the 
lawe  hath  condempned  thee  unto,  though  she  be  yet  alive,  since 
thou  as  much  as  in  thee  laye  hast  doen  to  bereve  her  of  her 
life  ;  but  I  am  content  that  her  vertue  and  goodnesse  shall  so 
muche  be  available  unto  thee,  that  thou  shalt  have  thy  life 
spared  unto  thee  for  this  tyme.  Not  for  thy  owne  sake,  because 
thou  deservest  it  not,  but  for  hers,  and  not  to  give  her  that 
sorowe  and  greefe  whiche  I  knowe  she  would  feele,  if  thou 
shouldest  dye  in  that  sorte;  but  I  sware  unto  thee,  that  if  ever 
I  maie  understande  that  thou  dooest  use  her  henceforth  other 
wise  then  lovyngly  and  kindely,  I  will  make  thee,  to  thy  gree- 
vous  paine,  prove  how  severely  I  can  punishe  suche  beastly 
and  heinous  factes,  to  the  example  of  all  others. 

Gonsales,  imputyng  his  former  offence  to  want  of  witte  and 
judgemente,  made  promis  unto  the  Lorde  that  he  would 
alwaies  dooe  as  he  had  commanded  hym;  and  accordinglie, 
havyng  forsaken  cleane  that  baggage  strumpette  that  he  had 
wedded,  he  lived  al  the  rest  of  his  daies  in  good  love  and 
peace  with  Agatha  his  wife  ;  whose  chaste  and  constant  minde 
caused  Alonso,  where  before  he  loved  her  for  her  exterior 
beauty,  ever  after  to  reverence  her,  and  in  maner  to  worship 


XLII 

her  as  a  divine  creature,  for  the  excellencie  of  her  vertue, 
resolving  with  hymself,  that  a  more  constaunt  faithe  and  ho 
nest  disposition  could  not  bee  founde  in  any  mortall  woman. 
(Shakespeare  Society's  Reprint,  1846  ;  pp.  157-175). 

DATE.  There  is  nothing  to  tell  us  the  date  of  this  play,  unless 
there  is  a  reference,  as  Fleay  maintains,  to  Thomas  Black- 
wood's  return  from  abroad  in  1601.  As  the  play  was  printed  in 
1602  this  would  leave  only  a  narrow  margin  for  the  time  of 
composition  :  say  the  end  of  1601  or  the  beginning  of  1602. 
This  is  corroborated  by  its  being  the  first  of  a  group  of  plays 
with  a  patient  wife  for  motive,  ranging  between  1602-1605.  Cp. 
pp.  II,  III,  VIII. 

LITERARY  IMPORTANCE.  All  authors  that  have  discussed 
this  piece  have  praised  it  for  its  wit,  humour  and  literary  abi 
lity.  «  The  humour  is  broad  and  strongly  marked,  and  at  the 
same  time  of  the  most  diverting  kind  ;  the  characters  are  excel 
lent,  and  excellently  discriminated  ;  the  comic  parts  of  the 
play  are  written  with  most  exquisite  drollery,  and  the  serious 
with  great  truth  and  feeling.  »  (Preface  to  the  play  in  Dods- 
ley's  edition,  from  Baldwin's  Old  English  Drama.)  The  charac 
terization  is  excellent,  the  dialogue  lively  and  witty,  the  lan 
guage  easy  and  natural,  while  the  situations  are  sometimes 
delightfully  humorous.  Its  weak  point  is  that  Arthur's  beha 
viour  towards  his  wife  is  altogether  uhmotived.  The  reader  is 
referred  to  Ward's  English  Dramatic  Literature,  II  608,9  for 
an  appreciation  of  the  aesthetic  value  of  the  piece  l),  and  to 
Schelling,  Elizabethan  Drama  I  33i-4  for  its  place  in  literature. 

Schelling  points  out  that  this  play  was  almost  immediately 
imitated  in  The  Fair  Maid  of  Bristow^  in  The  London  Prodigal 
and  in  Marston's  The  Dutch  Courtesan.  With  Dekker,  Chettle 
and  Haughton's  Patient  Grissil  these  plays  belong  to  the  group 
of  domestic  dramas  which  have  the  patient,  faithful  wife  for  a 
motive.  The  first-named  plays  are  different  from  Patient  Grissil 
in  having  a  spendthrift  contrasted  with  the  faithful  wife ; 
together  with  Measure  for  Measure  and  All's  Well  that  Ends 
Well  they  belong  to  the  period  lying  between  i6oi-i6o5,  if 

*)  Cp.  the  close  of  note  on  p.  9. 


XLIII 

our  play  was  composed  in  1601,  or  1602-1605  if  it  was  written 
in  1602.  For  an  appreciation  of  Heywood's  art  I  refer  the 
student  to  the  second  volume  of  Ward's  book,  pp.  55o-55g,  and 
to  that  author's  article  in  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biogra 
phy  ;  he  will  find  there  many  passages  that  will  throw  a  strong 
light  upon  points  that  characterize  equally  that  dramatist's 
pieces  and  our  play  l). 

Turning  to  the  pleasant  task  of  acknowledgement,  I  am 
indebted  to  the  authorities  of  the  British  Museum  for  per 
mitting  a  reproduction  of  the  first  quarto  to  be  made  ;  to  the 
Librarians  of  the  British  Museum,  the  Bodleian,  the  Cambridge 
University  Library  and  the  Advocates'  Library  at  Edinburgh 
for  information  concerning  the  copies  in  their  collections  ;  to 
Professor  J.  van  Wageningen  for  assistance  in  explaining  the 
Latin  passages ;  to  Dr.  Byvanck,  Director  of  the  Royal  Library 
at  the  Hague  for  the  loan,  during  a  considerable  period,  of 
the  quarto  of  1608 ;  and  to  Mr.  P.  Roeske  for  the  great  care 
with  which  he  has  revised  the  proofsheets  and  checked  the 
variants. 

Groningen,  May  1910.  A.  E.  H.  SWAEN. 

l)  Since  the  above  was  written  Frank  Humphrey  Ristine's  English  Tra 
gicomedy  ;  its  Origin  and  History  has  appeared  (Columbia  University  Stu 
dies  in  English,  1910),  from  which  I  quote  the  following  passage  :  «  Turning 
first  to  the  purely  domestic  drama  of  the  time,  we  encounter  at  least  one 
well-defined  group  of  plays  belonging  to  the  sphere  of  intermediate  drama. 
A  neutral  tone  is  the  universal  characteristic  of  plays  turning  on  the  theme 
of  the  faithful  wife  and  prodigal  husband,  or  some  variation  of  the  same 
popular  motive,  which,  beginning  with  «  Patient  Grissel  »  (iSgg),  runs  thru 
quite  a  series  of  later  productions.  All  are  reconciliation  dramas,  but  range 
in  tone  from  simple  pathos  untouched  by  tragic  impulse,  as  in  «  Patient 
Grissel»  or  the  «  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsdon»  fc.  1604),  to  the  dignity  of 
actual  tragedy  as  in  «  A  Woman  Killed  with  Kindness  (1609).  As  standing 
between  these  two  extreme?,  may  be  considered  three  plays,  all  of  uncer 
tain  authorship  and  all  repetitions  of  the  same  stock  theme  :  «  How  a  Man 
may  Choose  a  Good  Wife  from  a  Bad  »  (1602),  the  «  Fair  Maid  of  Bristow  » 
(i6o5)  and  the  «  London  Prodigal  »  (i6o5).  The  motive  in  each  turns  on  the 
story  of  a  prodigal  husband  who  ill  treats  or  even  attempts  to  murder  his 
faithful  wife,  and  after  suffering  for  his  sins,  repents  and  is  forgiven.  The 
thing  to  note  in  all  is  the  adaptation  of  a  familiar  device  from  Italian 
romance  :  the  timely  reappearance  of  the  supposedly  murdered  wife,  who 
intercedes  for  her  husband  on  trial  for  his  crime,  saves  his  life  and  brings 
about  the  reconciliation.  This,  it  will  be  remembered,  is  a  tragicomic 
device  used  FO  effectively  by  Giraldi,  and  the  main  spring  of  the  action  in 
Greene's  «  James  IV».  By  its  adoption  in  these  three  domestic  plays,  actual 
tragedy  is  skilfully  avoided  and  the  reconciliation  made  complete  ».  (pp. 
97»  98)-  —  For  analogues  of  our  play  see  Prof.  Baskervill's  above-men 
tioned  article,  and  A.  H.  Quinn,  Faire  Maidc  of  Bristow,  1902. 


XL 


[Title  page  of  the  Quarto  of  1608]. 


A 


PLEASANT 

conceited  Comedie,  where- 

in  is  shewed,  how  aman 
may  choose  a  good  wife 

from  a  bad. 


As  it  hath  beene  sundry  times 

acted  by  the  Earle  of  Wor- 
c esters  seruants. 


LONDON, 

Printed  for  Mathew  Law,  and  are  to  be  sold  at 

his  shop  in  Paules  Church-yard, neere  vnto  S. 

Augustines  gate,at  the  signe  of 

the  Foxe.  1608. 


List  of  Characters. 


Yong  Maister  Arthur. 

Maister  Lusam  (Yong  Lusam) 

Maister  Anselme. 

Maister  Fuller. 

Old  M.  Arthur. 

Old  M.  Lusam. 

Mistris  Arthur. 

Pipkin,  her  man. 

Aminadab. 

Boys. 

Justice  Reason. 

Hugh,  his  man. 

Mistris  Mary. 

Mistris  Splay. 

Brabo. 

Mayd. 


(i)  In  Hazlitt's  Dodsley,  IX,  4  there  is  the  following  pertinent  remark  : 
«  From  the  similarity  of  the  names,  it  seems  the  author  originally  intended 
to  make  Young  Lusam  the  son  of  Old  Lusam  and  brother  of  Mistress 
Arthur,  but  afterwards  changed  his  intention  :  in  page  i3  [1.  244]  the  latter 
calls  him  a  stranger  to  her,  although  he  is  the  intimate  friend  of  her  hus 
band  ». 


List  of  irregular  and  doubtful  readings. 


72  daugthter 
108  Medue  cure 
116  vritules 
149  aduise 
275  progedie 
3gg  woulst 
461  contray 
465  thou 
546  circustance 
621  gonest 
637  bone 

649  soledes 

650  v ententes 
654  Dilucoli 
660  vemo 
671  vntrust 
677  vngem 
691  sequntur 
702  prate 

io33  podes 
1214  cares,  eares  ? 
1257  ptesenti 
1270  assurs'd 
1279  vem 
I3o3  to 
i358  domine 
1 368  Minadab 


1412  recocilement 

1414  i  of  Justice  indistinct 

1447  chees 

1460  infore't 

i52i  aunciet 

i6i5  Benidicanus 

i635  An 

1748  featres 

1759  />«ter 

1775  Propimus 

1846  wofuls 

1875  bitter 

1902  Fast 

1949  venerarum 

1953  diliculo 

2079  raba 

2i3i  misvde 

2i37  staundrous 

2206  authortie 

2340  prought 

2371  proore 

2481  hononr'd 

2587  Bar 

25g5  Enier 

2606  Dad 

2622  sen 

2692  ambignous 


VII! 


LI" 


PLEASANT 

conceited  Comedie, 

\Vherein  is  shewed 

how  a  man  may  chuse  a  good 
Wife  from  a  bad. 

written  By  loshua   Cooke 
A  s  it  hath  bene  sundry  times  A  ctedby  the  Earle  of 
Worcesters  Seruants. 


LONDON 

Printed  for  Mathew  Lawe,  and  are  to  be  solde  at  his 

shop  in  Paules  Church-yard,  neare  vnto  S.  Au- 

gustines  gate,  at  the  signe  of  the  Foxe. 

1602. 


A  pleasant  conceited  Gome- 
die,  wehrein  is  shewed  how  a  man  may 

chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad. 

Enter  as  vpon  the  Exchaunge  ,  young  Maister  A  rthur, 
5  and  Maister  Lusam. 

A  rthur. 

1  Tell  you  true  Sir,  but  to  euery  man 

*  I  would  not  be  so  lauish  of  my  speech, 

Only  to  you  my  deare  and  priuate  friend, 
10  Although  my  wife  in  euery  eye,  be  held 

Of  beautie  and  of  grace  sufficient, 

Of  honest  birth  and  good  behauiour, 

Able  to  winne  the  strongest  thoughts  to  her, 

Yet  in  my  mind  I  hold  her  the  most  hated 
i5  And  loathed  obiect  that  the  world  can  yeeld. 
Lusam.  Oh  M.  Arthur  ^G^TQ  a  better  thought 

Of  your  chast  wife,  whose  modesty  hath  wonne 

The  good  opinion  and  report  of  all  : 

By  heauen  you  wrong  her  beautie,  she  is  faire. 
20       Ar.  Not  in  mine  eye. 

Lu.O  you  are  cloyed  with  dainties  M.Arthur 

And  too  much  sweetnes  glutted  hath  your  tast, 

And  makes  you  loath  them  :  At  the  first 

You  did  admire  her  beautie,  praisde  her  face, 
25  Were  proud  to  haue  her  follow  at  your  heeles 

Through  the  broad  streetes,  when  all  censuring  tongues 

A  2  Found 


1.4]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Found  themselues  busied  as  she  past  along, 
To  extoll  her  in  the  hearing  of  you  both, 
Tell  me  I  pray  you  and  dissemble  not, 
3o  Haue  you  not  in  the  time  of  your  first  loue, 
Hugd  such  new  popular  and  vulgar  talke, 
And  glorified  still  to  see  her  brauely  deckt  ? 
But  now  a  kind  of  loathing  hath  quite  changde 
Your  shape  of  loue  into  a  forme  of  hate, 
35  But  on  what  reason  ground  you  this  hate  ? 

Ar.  My  reason  is  my  mind,  my  ground  my  wil, 
I  will  not  loue  her  :  If  you  aske  me  why 
I  cannot  loue  her, let  that  answere  you. 

Lu.  Be  iudge  all  eyes,  her  face  deserues  it  not, 
40  Then  on  what  roote  growes  this  hie  braunch  of 
Is  she  not  loyall, constant,  louing,chast,      (hate? 
Obedient, apt  to  please,  loth  to  displease, 
Carefull  to  Hue,  chary  of  her  good  name, 
And  iealous  of  your  reputation  ? 
46  Is  she  not  vertuous, wise, religious  ? 

How  should  you  wrong  her  to  deny  all  this  ? 
Good  M.  Arthur  let  me  argue  with  you. 

They  walke  and  talke. 

Enter  walking  and  talking,  M.  Anselme,  and 
5o  Maister  Fuller. 

Fid.  Oh  M.  Anselme,  growne  a  Louer,fie, 
What  might  she  be, on  whom  your  hopes  relie  ? 

An.  What  fooles  they  are  that  seem  most  wise  in  loue, 
How  wise  they  are,  that  are  but  fooles  in  loue  : 
55  Before  I  was  a  Louer,  I  had  reason 
To  iudge  of  matters, censure  of  all  sorts, 
Nay  I  had  wit  to  call  a  Louer  foole, 
And  looke  into  his  folly  with  bright  eyes, 
But  now  intruding  Loue  dwels  in  my  braine, 

And 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [5] 

60  And  frantickly  hath  shouldered  reason  thence, 
I  am  not  old,  and  yet  alas  I  doate: 
I  haue  not  lost  my  sight,  and  yet  am  blind, 
No  bondman,  yet  haue  lost  my  libertie, 
No  naturall  ibole,and  yet  I  want  my  wit. 
65  What  am  I  then,  let  me  define  my  selfe, 
A  doatar  yong,a  blind  man  that  can  see, 
A  wittie  foole,  a  bond-man  that  [is  free. 
Ful.  Good  aged  youth,  blind  seer,&  wise  foole, 
Loose  your  free  bonds, and  set  your  thoughts  to 
70         Enter  old  M.Arthur, and  old  M.Lnsam.  (schoole. 

Old  Ar.  Tis  told  me  M.  Lusam,  that  my  sonne 
And  your  chast  daugthter  whom  we  matcht  together, 
Wrangle  and  fall  at  oddes,and  brawle,and  chide. 

Old  Lu.  Nay  I  thinke  so, I  neuer  lookt  for  better  : 
75  This  tis  to  marry  children  when  they  are  yong, 
I  said  as  much  affirst,  that  such  yong  brats 
Would  gree  together, euen  like  dogs  and  cats. 

Old  Ar.  Nay  pray  you  M.  Lusam  say  not  so, 
There  was  great  hope, though  they  were  matcht  but 
80  Their  vertues  would  haue  made  them  simpathisc,  (yong 
Arid  Hue  together  like  two  quiet  Saints. 

Old  Lu.  You  say  true, there  was  great  hope  indeed 
They  would  haue  liu'd  like  Saints,  but  wheres  the  fault? 
Old  Ar.  If  fame  be  true,  the  most  fault's  in  my  sonne. 
85       Old.Lu.  You  say  true  M.  Arthur, tis  so  indeed. 

Old  Ar.  Nay  sir,  I  do  not  altogether  excuse 
Four  daughter,  many  lay  the  blame  on  her. 

OldLu.  Ha  say  yoirso,bithmasse  tis  like  enough, 
For  from  her  childhood  she  hath  bene  a  shrowe. 
90      Old  Ar.  A  shrow,  you  wrong  her, all  the  towne  admires 
For  mildnesse,chastnesse,and  humilitie.  (her, 

Old  Lu.  Fore  God  you  say  well, she  is  so  indeed: 

A   3  The 


[6j  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

The  Citie  doth  admire  her  for  these  vertues. 

Old  Ar.  O  sir,  you  praise  your  child  too  palpably, 
g5  Shee's  mild  and  chast,but  not  admir'd  so  much. 
Old  Lu.  I  so  I  say, I  did  not  meane  admir'd. 
Old  Ar.  Yes  if  a  man  do  well  consider  her, 
Your  daughter  is  the  wonder  of  her  sexe. 

Old  Lu.  Are  you  aduisde  of  that,I  cannot  tell 
100  What  tis  you  call  the  wonder  of  her  sexe, 
But  she  is, is  she,  I  indeed  she  is. 
OldAr.  What  is  she? 

Old  Lu.  Euen  what  you  wil,  you  know  best  what  she  is. 
Anselme.  Yon  is  her  husband, let  vs  leaue  this  walke, 
io5  How  full  are  bad  thoughts  of  suspition  ; 
I  loue,  but  loath  my  selfe  for  louing  so,     • 
Yet  cannot  change  my  disposition. 
Fuller.  Medue  cure  teipsum. 

Ansel.  Hei mihi quod mellis amor  est medicabilis herbis. 
no        Yong  Ar.  All  your  perswasions  are  to  no  effect, 
Neuer  alledge  her  vertues  nor  her  beautie, 
My  setled  vnkindnes  hath  begot 
A  resolution  to  be  vnkind  still, 
My  raunging  pleasures  loue  varietie. 
n5        Yon.Lu.  Oh  too  vnkind  vnto  so  kind  a  wife, 
Too  vritules  to  one  so  vertuous, 
And  too  vnchast  vnto  so  chast  a  matron. 

Yon.Ar.  But  soft  sir,  see  where  my  two  fathers  are 
Busily  talkingjet  vs  shrinke  aside, 
120  For  if  they  see  me,  they  are  bent  to  chide. 

Exeunt. 

Old  Ar.  I  thinke  tis  best  to  goe  straight  to  the  house 
And  make  them  friends  againe  :  what  thinke  you  sir  ? 

Old  Lu.  I  thinke  so  too. 

125       Old  Arth.  Now  I  remember  too,  that's  not  so  good, 

For 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [7] 

For  diuers  reasons  I  thinke  best  stay  here, 
And  leaue  them  to  their  wrangling,  what  thinke  you  ? 
Old  Lu.  I  thinke  so  too. 

Old  Arth.  Nay  we  will  goe  that's  certaine.  (goe. 

i3o       Old  Lu.  I  tis  best,tis  best  in  sooth  :  theres  no  way  but  to 
Old  Arth.  Yet  if  our  going  should  breed  more  vnrest, 
More  discord,  more  dissention,more  debate, 
More  wrangling  where  there  is  inough  alreadie, 
Twere  better  stay  then  goe. 
i35       Old  Lu.  Fore  God  tis  true, 

Our  going  may  perhaps  breed  more  debate, 
And  then  we  may  too  late  wish  we  had  staid: 
And  therefore  if  you  will  be  rulde  by  me, 
We  will  not  goe  that's  flat :  Nay  if  we  loue 
140  Our  credits, or  our  quiets, lets  not  goe. 

Old  Ar.  But  ii  we  loue  their  credits  or  their  quiets  we 
And  reconcile  them  to  their  former  loue  :  (must  goe 

Where  there  is  strife  betwixt  a  man  and  wife  tis  hell, 
And  mutuall  loue  may  be  compar'd  to  heauen  : 
145  For  then  their  soules  and  spirits  are  at  peace. 
Come  M.  Lusam,  now  tis  dinner  time, 
When  we  haue  dinde,  the  first  worke  we  will  make, 
Is  to  decide  their  iarres  for  pitie  sake. 

Old  Lu.  Welfare  a  good  hart,  yet  are  you  aduise, 
i5o  Goe  said  you  M.  Arthur,  I  will  runne, 

To  end  these  broyles  that  discord  hath  begunne. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Mistris  Arthur, and  her  man  Pipkin. 
Mist.  Ar.  Come  hither  Pipkin,   how  chance  you  tread 
i55       Pip.  For  feare  of  breaking  Mistresse.  (so  softly? 

Mist.  Ar.  Art  thou  afraid  of  breaking.how  so  ? 
Pip.    Can  you  blame  me  Mistris,  I  am  crackt  alreadie. 
Mist.  Crackt  P#>&w, how, hath  any  crackt  your  crown? 

Pip.  No 


[8]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Pip.  No  Mistris,!  thank  God  my  crown  is  currant, but. 
160       Mis.  Ar.  But  what  ? 

Pip.  The  mayd  gaue  me  not  my  supper  yesternight, so 

that  indeed  my  belly  wambled  ;  and  standing  neare  the 

great  sea-coale  fire  in  the  hall,  and  not  being  full,  on  the 

sodaine  I  crackt,and  you  know  Mistris  a  Pipkin  is  soone 

i65  broken. 

Mis.  Ar.  Sirra  runne  to  the  Exchange,  and  if  you  there 
Can  fmde  my  husband, pray  him  to  come  home, 
Tell  him  I  will  not  eate  a  bit  of  bread 
Vntill  I  see  him   prethee  Pipkin  runne. 

170  Pip.  But  Lady  Mistris, if  I  should  tell  him  so, it  may  be 
hef  would  not  come  ,  were  it  for  no  other  cause  but  to 
saue  charges,  He  rather  tell  him,  if  he  come  not  quickly, 
you  will  eate  vp  all  the  meate  in  the  house,  and  then  if  he 
be  of  my  stomacke  he  will  runne  euery  foote,  and  make 
175  the  more  hast  to  dinner. 

Mis.Ar.  I  thou  maist  iest,my  heart  is  not  so  light, 
It  can  disgest  the  least  conceit  of  ioy  : 
Intreat  him  fairly, though  I  thinke  he  loues. 
All  places  worse  that  he  beholds  me  in, 
180  Wilt  thou  be  gone? 

Pip.  Whither  Mistresse,  to  the  Chaunge  ? 
Mis.Ar.   I  to  the  Chaunge. 

Pip.   I  will  Mistresse,  hoping  my  M.  will  goe  so  oft  to 
the  Chaunge,  that  at  length  he  will  chaunge  his  minde, 
i85  and  vse  you  more  kindly  ,   6  it  were  braue  if  my  Maister 
could  meete  with  a  Marchant  of  ill  ventures  to  bargaine 
with  him  for  all  his  bad  conditions, and  he  sell  them  out 
right,  you  should  haue  a  quieter  heart,  and  we  all  a  quie 
ter  house  :  but  hoping  Mistresse  you  will  passe  ouer  all 
190  these  larres  and  squabels  in  good  health  ,  as  my  Maister 
was  at  the  making  thereof,  I  commit  you. 

Mis.Ar. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [9] 

Mis.  Ar.   Make  haste  againe  I  prethee,  till  I  see  him 
My  heart  will  neuer  be  at  rest  within  me : 
My  husband  hath  of  late  so  much  estrang'd 
ig5  His  words,  his  deeds,  his  heart  from  me, 
That  I  can  sildome  haue  his  company  : 
And  euen  that  sildome  with  such  discontent, 
Such  frownes,  such  chidings,  such  impatience, 
That  did  not  truth  &  vertue  arme  my  thoughts, 
200  They  would  confound  me  with  dispaire  &  hate, 
And  make  me  runne  into  extremities. 
Had  I  deseru'd  the  least  bad  looke  from  him, 
I  should  account  my  selfe  too  bad  to  Hue, 
But  honouring  him  in  loue  and  chastitie, 
2o5  All  Judgements  censure  freely  of  my  wrongs. 

Enter  young  A  rthur, Maister  Lusam.Pipkin. 
Yon.  Ar.  Pipkin  what  said  she  when  she  sent  for  me? 
Pip.  Faith  maister  she  said  litle,  but  she  thought  more, 
For  she  was  very  melancholy. 

210       Yon.  Ar.  Did  I  not  tell  you  she  was  melancholy  ? 
For  nothing  else  but  that  she  sent  for  me, 
And  fearing  I  would  come  to  dine  with  her. 

Yon.  Lus.  O  you  mistake  her  euen  vpon  my  soule, 
I  durst  affirme  you  wrong  her  chastitie. 
2i5  See  where  she  doth  attend  your  comming  home. 

Mis.  Ar.  Come  maister  Arthur,  shall  we  in  to  dinner? 
Sirra  be  gone, and  see  it  seru'd  in. 

Yon.Lus.  Will  you  not  speake  vnto  her? 
Yon.Ar.  No  not  I,will  you  go  in  sir? 

220       Mis.Ar.  Not  speak  to  me, nor  once  looke  towards  me? 
It  is  my  dutie  to  begin  /  know, 
And  I  will  breake  this  Ice  of  curtesie. 
You  are  welcome  home  sir. 

Yon.Ar.  Harke  maister  Lusam.  if  she  mocke  me  not, 

B  You 


[lo]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

225  You  are  welcome  home  sir, am  I  welcome  home, 
Good  faith  I  care  not  if  I  be  or  no. 

Yon.Lu.  Thus  you  misconster  all  things  M.Arthur, 
Looke  if  her  true  loue  melt  not  into  teares. 

Yon.Ar.  She  weeps,  but  why?  that  I  am  come  so  soone 

23o  To  hinder  her  of  some  appointed  guests, 
That  in  my  absence  reuels  in  my  house  : 
She  weepes  to  see  me  in  her  company, 
And  were  I  absent, she  would  laugh  with  ioy. 
She  weepes  to  make  me  weary  of  the  house, 

235  Knowing  my  hart  cannot  away  with  griefe. 

Mist.Ar.  Knew  I  that  mirth  would  make  you  loue  my 
I  would  enforce  my  hart  to  be  more  mery.  (bed, 

Yon. Ar.  Do  you  not  heare,  she  would  inforce  her  hart, 
All  mirth  is  forct  that  she  can  make  with  me. 

240        Yong  Lu.  O  misconceit,how  bitter  is  thy  tast  ? 
Sweet  M.Arthur,  Mistris  Arthur  too, 
Let  me  intreat  you  reconcile  these  iarres, 
Odious  to  heauen,and  most  abhord  of  men. 

Mist.A.r.  You  are  a  stranger  sir, but  by  your  words 

245  You  do  appeare  an  honest  Gentleman  : 
If  you  professe  to  be  my  husbands  friend, 
Persist  in  these  perswasions  :  and  be  ludge 
With  all  indifference  in  these  discontents. 
Sweet  husband, if  I  be  not  faire  enough 

25o  To  please  your  eye, range  where  you  list  abroad, 
Only  at  comming  home  speake  me  but  faire  : 
If  you  delight  to  chaunge,chaunge  when  you  please, 
So  that  you  will  not  chaunge  your  loue  to  me. 
If  you  delight  to  see  me  drudge  and  toyle, 

255  He  be  your  drudge, because  tis  your  delight. 
Or  if  you  thinke  me  vnworthie  of  the  name 
Of  your  chast  wife, I  will  become  your  maide, 

Your 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [i  i  ] 

Your  slaue,your  seruant,any  thing  you  will, 

If  for  that  name  of  seruant,  and  of  slaue, 
260  You  will  but  smile  vpon  me  now  and  then. 

Or  if  as  I  well  thinke  you  cannot  loue  me, 

Loue  where  you  list,only  say  but  you  loue  me? 

He  feed  on  shadowes  let  the  substance  goe. 

Will  you  deny  me  such  a  small  request  ? 
265  What  will  you  neither  loue  nor  flatter  me  ? 

0  then  I  see  your  hate  here  doth  but  wound  me, 
And  with  that  hate  it  is  your  frownes  confound  me. 

Yon.  Lu.  Wonder  of  women  :  why  hark  you  M. Arthur, 
What  is  your  wife  a  woman  or  a  Saint  ? 
270  A  wife, or  some  bright  Angell  come  from  heauen  ? 
Are  you  not  mou'd  at  this  straunge  spectacle? 
This  day  I  haue  beheld  a  miracle. 
When  I  attempt  this  sacred  nuptiall  life, 

1  beg  of  heauen  to  finde  me  such  a  wife. 
275        Yoii.A.r.  Ha, ha, a  miracle,  a  progedie, 

To  see  a  woman  weep  is  as  much  pittie 

As  to  see  Foxes  digd  out  of  their  holes: 

If  thou  wilt  pleasure  me, let  me  see  thee  lesse, 

Greeue  much :  they  say  griefe  often  shortens  life, 

280  Come  not  too  neare  me,  till  I  call  thee  wife. 
And  that  will  be  but  sildome.  /  will  tell  thee 
How  thou  shalt  winne  my  hart, die  sodainly, 
And  /le  become  a  lustie  widower  : 
The  longer  thy  life  lasts  the  more  my  hate, 

285  And  loathing  still  increaseth  towards  thee. 
When  /  come  home  &  finde  thee  cold  as  earth, 
The  wil  1  loue  thee: thus  thou  knowst  my  mind. 
Come  M.  Lusam,  let  vs  in  to  dine.      (Exeunt. 
Yon.Lu.  O  sir,  you  too  much  affect  this  euil, 

290  Pore  Saint,  why  wert  thou  yoakt  thus  with  a  diuel.  Exit. 

B  2  Mister. 


[12]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Mis.Ar.  If  them  wilt  win  my  heart, die  suddenly, 
But  that  my  soule  was  bought  at  such  a  rate, 
At  such  a  high  price  as  my  Sauiours  bloud, 
I  would  not  sticke  to  loose  it  with  a  stab. 
2g5  But  vertue  banish  all  such  fantasies. 
He  is  my  husband, and  I  loue  him  well, 
Next  to  my  owne  soules  health  I  tender  him  : 
And  would  giue  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world, 
To  buy  his  loue  if  I  might  purchase  it. 
3oo  He  follow  him, and  like  a  seruant  waite, 

And  striue  by  all  meanes  to  preuent  his  hate. 

Exit. 

Enter  old  Arthur  ^and  old  Lusam. 

Old  Ar.  This  is  my  sonnes  house, were  it  best  goe  in, 
3o5  How  say  you  maister  Lusam  P 

Old  Lus.  How  goe  in, how  say  you  sir? 
Old  Ar.  I  say  tis  best. 
Old  Lus.  I  sir, say  you  so, so  say  I  too. 
Old  Ar.Nay,nay,it  is  not  best,Ile  tel  you  why, 
3io  Happily  the  fire  of  hate  is  quite  extinct 

From  the  dead  embers,  now  to  rake  them  vp, 
Should  the  least  sparke  of  discontent  appeare, 
To  make  the  flame  of  hatred  burne  a  fresh, 
The  heate  of  this  dissention  might  scorch  vs, 
3i5  Which  in  his  owne  cold  ashes  smothered  vp, 
May  dye  in  silence, and  reuiue  no  more: 
And  therefore  tell  me, is  it  best  or  no  ? 
Old  'Lus.  How  say  you  sir? 
Old  Ar.  I  say  it  is  not  best. 
320       Old. Lus.  Masse  you  say  well  sir,&  so  say  I  too. 

Old  Ar.  But  shall  we  loose  our  labour  to  come  hither, 
And  without  sight  of  our  two  children  ? 
Goe  backe  againe,nay  we  will  in  that's  certaine. 

Old.  Lus. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [i3] 

Old  Lu.  In  quotha, do  you  make  a  doubt  of  that  ? 
325  Shall  we  come  thus  far,  and  in  such  post  hast, 
And  haue  our  children  here  and  both  within, 
And  not  behold  them  ere  our  backe  returne  ? 
It  were  vnfriendly,and  vnfatherly: 
Come  M.  Arthur,  pray  you  follow  me. 
33o       Old  Ar.  Nay  but  harke  you  sir,  will  you  not  knock  ? 
Old  Lu.  Is't  best  to  knock  ? 
Old.Ar.  I  knock  in  any  case. 
Old  Lu.  Twas  well  you  put  it  in  mind  to  knock, 
I  had  forgotten  it  else  I  promise  you.  (doore, 

335       Old  Ar.  Tush,ist  not  my  sonnes  and  your  daughters 
And  shall  we  two  stand  knocking  ?  Leade  the  way. 

Old  'Lu.  Knock  at  our  childrens  doores, that  were  a  lest, 
Are  we  such  fooles  to  make  our  selues  so  straunge 
Where  we  should  still  be  boldest  P  In  for  shame. 
340  We  will  not  stand  vpon  such  ceremonies.        (Exeunt. 

Enter  Anselme  and  Fuller. 

Ful.  Speake  in  what  cue  sir  do  you  find  your  hart, 
Now  thou  hast  slept  a  little  on  thy  loue? 

Ans.  Like  one  that  striues  to  shun  a  little  plash 
345  Of  shallow  water,  and  auoyding  it, 
Plunges  into  a  Riuer  past  his  depth. 
Like  one  that  from  a  small  sparke  steps  aside, 
And  falls  in  headlong  to  a  greater  flame  : 

Ful.  But  in  such  fiers  scorch  not  thy  selfe  for 
35o  If  she  be  fier,thou  art  so  far  fro  burning,  (shame. 
That  thou  hast  scarce  yet  warmd  thee  at  her  face 
But  list  to  me,  He  turne  thy  hart  from  loue, 
And  make  thee  loath  all  of  the  feminine  sexe. 
They  that  haue  knowne  me, knew  me  once  of 
355  To  be  a  perfect  wencher  :  I  haue  tried      (name 
All  sorts,  all  sects, all  states, and  finde  them  still 
Inconstant, fickle, alwaies  variable. 

B  3  Attend 


[14]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Attend  me  man,/  will  prescribe  a  methode 

How  thou  shalt  win  hir  without  al  peradueture. 
36o       Ansel.  That  would  /  gladly  heare. 
Fid.  I  was  once  like  thee, 

A  sigher,  melancholy,humorist, 

Grosser  of  armes,a  goer  without  garters, 

A  hatband-hater,  and  a  busk-point  wearer, 
365  One  that  did  vse  much  bracelets  made  of  haire, 

Rings  on  my  fingers, Jewels  in  mine  eares, 

And  now  and  then  a  wenches  Carkanet, 

That  had  two  letters  for  her  name  in  Pearle: 

Skarfes, garters, bands,wrought  wastcoats,gold,stitcht 
370  A  thousand  of  those  female  fooleries,  (caps, 

But  when  /  lookt  into  the  glasse  of  Reason, strait  I  began 

To  loath  that  femall  brauery,and  henceforth 

Studie  to  cry  peccaui  to  the  world. 

Ans.  I  pray  you  to  your  former  argument, 
375  Prescribe  a  meanes  to  winne  my  best  belou'd. 

Fill.  First  be  not  bashfull,bar  all  blushing  tricks, 

Be  not  too  apish  female,  do  not  come 

With  foolish  Sonets  to  present  her  with, 

With  legs, with  curtesies,congies,and  such  like  : 
38o  Nor  with  pend  speeches, or  too  far  fetcht  sighes, 

/  hate  such  antick  queint  formalitie. 

Ans.  Oh  but  /  cannot  watch  occasion, 

She  dashes  euery  prefer  with  a  frowne. 

Ful.  A  frowne,  a  foole  art  thou  afraid  of  frownes  ? 
385  He  that  will  leaue  occasion  for  a  frowne, 

Were  /  his  /udge  (all  you  his  case  bemone) 

His  doome  should  be,  euer  to  lie  alone. 

Ans.  I  cannot  chuse  but  when  a  wench  saies  nay, 

To  take  her  at  her  word  and  leaue  my  sute. 
3go       Ful.  Continue  that  opinion,  and  be  sure 

To  die  a  virgin  chaste,  a  may  den  pure. 

It 


how  to  c/nise  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [i5] 

7t  was  my  chance  once  in  my  wanton  dales 
To  Court  a  wench, harke  and  71e  tell  thee  how  : 
/  came  vnto  my  Loue, and  she  lookt  coy, 

3o5  /  spake  vnto  my  Loue,she  turnd  aside, 
/  tucht  my  Loue,and  gan  with  her  to  toy, 
But  she  sat  mute  for  anger,or  for  pride  : 
/  striu'd  and  kist  my  Loue,she  cried  away  : 
Thou  woulst  haue  left  her  thus,  /  made  her  stay. 

400  /  catchtmy  Loue,and  wrung  her  by  the  hand, 
/  tooke  my  Loue  and  set  her  on  my  knee, 
And  puld  her  to  me,  6  you  spoile  my  band, 
You  hurt  me  sir,  pray  let  me  goe  quoth  she. 
/  am  glad  quoth  /,  that  you  haue  found  your  tongue, 

405  And  still  my  Loue  /  by  the  finger  wroong. 
/  askt  her  if  she  lou'd  me, she  said  no, 
/  bad  her  sweare,she  strait  calls  for  a  booke  : 
Nay  then  thought  /,  tis  time  to  let  her  goe, 
/  easde  my  knee, and  from  her  cast  a  looke, 

410  She  leaues  me  wondring  at  these  strange  affaires, 
And  like  the  wind  she  trips  me  vp  the  staires. 
/  left  the  roome  below  and  vp  /  went, 
Finding  her  throwne  vpon  her  wanton  bed  : 
/  askt  the  cause  of  her  sad  discontent, 

4i5  Further  she  lies, and  making  roome  she  sed, 
Now  sweeting  kisse  me,hauing  time  and  place  : 
So  clings  me  too  her  with  a  sweet  imbrace. 

Ans.  /st  possible,  /  had  not  thought  till  now 
That  wemen  could  dissemble.  M.  Fuller 

420  Here  dwels  the  sacred  mistris  of  my  hart, 
Before  her  doore  71e  frame  a  friuolous  walke, 
And  spying  her,  with  her  deuise  some  talke. 
Enter  as  out  of  the  house,M.  Arthur, Mistris  Arthur, old 
Arthur, old  Lusam,yong  Lusam, Pipkin, and  the  rest. 

425       Ful.  What  stir  is  this,  lets  step  but  out  the  way. 

And  heare  the  vtmost  what  these  people  say.         OldAr. 


[16]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comtdie 

Old  Ar.  Thou  art  a  knaue, although  thou  be  my  sonne, 
Haue  I  with  care  and  trouble  brought  thee  vp, 
To  be  a  staffe  and  comfort  to  my  age, 
480  A  Pillar  to  support  me,  and  a  Crutch 
To  leane  on  in  my  second  infancie, 
And  doest  thou  vse  me  thus  ?  thou  art  a  knaue. 

Old  Lu.  A  knaue,!  mary,and  an  arrant  knaue  : 
And  sirra,  by  old  M.Arthurs  leaue, 
435  Though  I  be  weake  and  old,  He  proue  thee  one. 

Yong  Ar.  Sir,  though  it  be  my  fathers  pleasure  thus 
To  wrong  me  with  the  scorned  name  of  knaue, 
I  will  not  haue  you  so  familiar, 
Nor  so  presume  vpon  my  patience. 
440       Old  Lu.  Speake  M.  Arthur, is  he  not  a  knaue  ? 
Old  Ar.  I  say  he  is  a  knaue. 
Old  Lu.  Then  so  say  I. 

Yong  Ar.  My  Father  may  commaund  my  patience, 
But  you  sir  that  are  but  my  Father  in  lawe, 
445  Shall  not  so  mock  my  reputation, 

Sir  you  shall  finde  I  am  an  honest  man. 
Old  Lu.  An  honest  man. 
Yong  Ar.  I  sir,  so  /  say. 

Old  Lu.  Nay  if  you  say  so,  He  not  be  against  it; 
45o  But  sir  you  might  haue  vsde  my  daughter  better, 
Then  to  haue  beat  her,spurnd  her,  raild  at  her 
Before  our  faces. 
Old  Ar.  I  therein  sonne  Arthur, 
Thou  shewdst  thy  selfe  no  better  then  a  knaue. 
455       Old  Lu.  I  mary  did  he,  /  will  stand  to  it, 
To  vse  my  honest  daughter  in  such  sort, 
He  shewd  himselfe  no  better  then  a  knaue. 

Yong  Ar.  I  say  againe  /  am  an  honest  man, 
He  Wrongs  me  that  shall  say  the  contrary. 
460       Old  Lu.  I  graunt  sir  that  you  are  an  honest  man, 

Nor 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [17] 

Nor  will  I  say  vnto  the  conlray. 

But  wherfore  do  you  vse  my  daughter  thus  ? 

Can  you  accuse  her  of  inchastitie, 

Of  loose  demeanor, disobedience, or  disloialtie  ? 
465  Speak  what  thou  canst  thou  obiect  against  my  daughter. 
Old  Ar.  Accuse  her,  here  she  stands, spit  in  her  face 

If  she  be  guiltie  in  the  least  of  these. 

MisAr.    O  Father  be  more  patient,if  you  wrong 

My  honest  husband,  all  the  blame  be  mine, 
470  Because  you  do  it  only  for  my  sake. 

I  am  his  hand-maid, since  it  is  his  pleasure 

To  vse  me  thus,  I  am  content  therewith, 

And  beare  his  checks  and  crosses  patiently. 

Yong  Ar.  If  in  mine  owne  house  I  can  haue  no 
475  He  seek  it  eh>ewhere,and  frequent  it  lesse.  (place, 

Father  I  am  now  past  one  and  twentie  yeares, 

I  am  past  my  Fathers  pampring,!  suck  not  : 

Nor  am  I  dandled  on  my  mothers  knee  : 

Then  if  you  were  my  Father  twentie  times, 
480  You  shall  not  chuse  but  let  me  be  my  selfe. 

Do  I  come  home  so  sildome,and  that  sildome 

Am  I  thus  baited  ?  Wife  remember  this. 

Father  farewell, and  Father  in  law  adieu  : 

Your  sonne  had  rather  fast,then  feast  with  you.      (Exit. 
485  Old  Ar.  Well  goe  too  wild  oates,  spend  thrift, prodigall, 

lie  crosse  thy  name  quite  from  my  reckoning  booke  : 

For  these  accounts, faith  it  shall  skathe  thee  somewhat, 

I  will  not  say  what  somewhat  it  shall  be. 

Old  Lu.  And  it  shall  skathe  him  somewhat  of  my  purse, 
490  And  daughter  I  will  take  thee  home  againe, 

Since  thus  he  hates  thy  fellowship, 

Be  such  an  eye-sore  to  his  sight  no  more, 

I  tell  thee  thou  no  more  shalt  trouble  him.  (ther  ? 

Mis.hr.  Wil  you  diuorce  whom  God  hath  tied  toge- 

C  Or 


|.i8]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

4g5  Or  breake  that  knot  the  sacred  hand  of  heauen 
Made  fast  betwixt  vs  ?  Haue  you  neuer  read 
What  a  great  curse  was  laid  vpon  his  head 
That  breakes  the  holy  band  of  manage, 
Diuorsing  husbands  from  their  chosen  wiues  ? 
5oo  Father  I  will  not  leaue  my  Arther  so, 

Not  all  my  friends  can  make  me  proue  his  foe. 

Old  Ar.  I  could  say  somewhat  in  my  sonnes  reproofe. 
Old  Lu.  Faith  so  could  /. 
Old  A  r.  But  till  /  meet  him  1  will  let  it  passe. 
5o5       Old  Lu.  Faith  so  will  /. 

Old  Ar.   Daughter  farewell,  with  weeping  eyes  /  part, 
Witnesse  these  teares,thy  griefe  sits  neare  my  hart. 

Old  Lu.  Weepes  M.  Arthur , nay  then  let  me  crie  : 
His  cheekes  shall  not  be  wet, and  mine  be  drie.     (Exeunt. 
5io       Mist.Ar.  Fathers  farewell, spend  not  a  teare  for  me: 
But  for  my  husbands  sake  let  these  woes  be. 
For  when  /  weep,  tis  not  for  my  owne  care, 
But  feare  least  folly  bring  him  to  dispaire. 

Yon.Lu.  Sweet  Saint  continue  still  this  patience, 
5i5  For  time  will  bring  him  to  true  penitence. 
Mirror  of  vertue,  thankes  for  my  good  cheere, 
A  thousand  thankes. 

Mist.  Ar.  It  is  so  much  too  deere, 
But  you  are  welcome  for  my  husbands  sake, 
520  His  guests  shall  haue  best  welcome  /  can  make.         (mon, 
Yon.Lu.  Then  manage, nothing  in  the  world  more  corn- 
Nothing  more  rare  then  such  a  vertuous  woman.    (Exit. 

Mis.  Ar.    My  husband  in  this  humor,  well  /  know 
Plaies  but  the  ynthrift,  therefore  it  behoues  me 
525  To  be  the  better  huswife  here  at  home, 

To  saue  and  get,  whilst  he  doth  laugh  and  spend: 
Though  for  himselfe  he  riots  it  at  large, 
My  needle  shall  defray  my  housholds  charge. 

Ful.  Now 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [19] 

Ful.  Now  M.  A  nselme  to  her, step  not  backe, 

53o  Buslle  your  selfc,see  where  she  sits  at  worke : 
Be  not  afraid  man,shee's  but  a  woman,' 
And  wemen,  the  most  Cowards  sildome  feare : 
Thinke  but  vpon  my  former  principles, 
And  twentie  pound  to  a  dreame  you  speed. 

535       Aws.  I,  say  you  so  ? 

Ful.  Beware  of  blushing  sirra, 
Of  feare  and  too  much  eloquence  : 
Raile  on  her  husband  his  misvsing  her, 
And  make  that  serue  thee  as  an  argument, 

540  That  she  may  sooner  yeeld  to  do  him  wrong: 
Were  it  my  case,my  Loue  and  /  to  plead, 
I  hau't  at  fingers  ends,  who  could  misse  the  clout 
Hauing  so  faire  a  white,  such  steddy  aime, 
This  is  the  vpshot,  now  bid  for  the  game. 

545       Ans.  Faire  Mistris  God  saue  you. 

Ful.  What  a  circustance  doth  he  begin  with,  what  an 
To  tell  her  at  the  first  that  she  was  faire  ?  (Asse  is  he 

The  only  meanes  to  make  her  to  be  coy  : 
He  should  haue  rather  told  her  she  was  fowle, 

55o  And  brought  her  out  of  loue  quite  with  her  selfe  : 
And  being  so, she  would  the  lesse  haue  car'd 
Vpon  whose  secrets  she  had  laid  her  loue  : 
He  hath  almost  mard  all  with  that  word  faire. 
Ans.  Mistris  God  saue  you. 

555       Ful.  What  a  block  is  that 

To  say  God  saue  you, is  the  fellow  mad, 
Once  to  name  God  in  his  vngodly  sute  ? 

Mis.  Ar.  You  are  welcome  sir.  Come  you  to  speak  with 
Or  with  my  husband,  pray  you  whats  your  will  ?        (me, 

56o       Ful.  She  answeres  to  the  purpose,  whats  your  will  ? 
O  zoanes  that  I  were  there  to  answere  her. 
Ans.  Mistris  my  will  is  not  so  soone  exprest, 

C      2  Without 


[20]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Without  your  speciall  fauour,and  the  promise 
Of  loue  and  pardon  if  I  speake  amisse. 
565       Ful.  O  Asse,  6  Duns,  6  blockhead  that  hath  left 
The  plaine  broad  hie  way, and  the  readiest  path 
To  trauell  round  about  by  circumstance : 
He  might  haue  told  his  meaning  in  a  word, 
And  now  hath  lost  his  opportunitie  : 
570  Neuer  was  such  a  trewantin  Loues  schoole, 
I  am  asham'd  that  ere  I  was  his  Tutor. 

Mis.Ar.  Sir  you  may  freely  speak  what  ere  it  be, 
So  that  your  speech  suteth  with  modestie. 

Ful.  To  this  now  could  I  answer  passing  well. 
575       Ans.  Mistris  I  pitying  that  so  faire  a  creature. 
Ful.  Still  faire, and  yet  I  warnd  the  contrary. 
Ans.  Should  by  a  villen  be  so  fowly  vsde  as  you  haue 
Ful.  I  that  was  well  put  in,  (bene. 

If  time  and  place  were  both  conuenient. 
58o       Ans.  Haue  made  this  bold  intrusion  to  present 
My  loue  and  seruice  to  your  sacred  selfe. 
Ful.  Indifferent,that  was  not  much  amisse. 
Mis.  Ar.  Sir,  what  you  meane  by  seruice  and  by  loue 
I  will  not  know  :  but  what  you  meane  by  villaine 
585  /  faine  would  know. 

Ans.  That  villaine  is  your  husband  : 
Whose  wrogs  towards  you, are  bruted  thorow  the  land. 
O  can  you  suffer  at  a  Peasants  hands 
Vnworthy  once  to  tuch  this  silken  skin, 
5go  To  be  so  rudely  beate  and  buffeted  ? 

Can  you  endure  from  such  infectuous  breath 
Able  to  blast  your  beautie,to  haue  names 
Of  such  impoisoned  hate  flung  in  your  face  ? 

Ful.  O  that  was  good, nothing  was  good  but  that: 
5g5  That  was  the  lesson  that  I  taught  him  last/ 

Ans.  O  can  you  heare  your  neuer  tainted  fame 

Wounded 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [21] 

Wounded  with  words  of  shame  and  infamie  ? 
O  can  you  see  your  pleasures  dealt  away, 
And  you  to  be  debard  all  part  of  them, 
600  And  bury  it  in  deepe  obliuion? 

Shall  your  true  right  be  still  contributed 
Mongst  hungry  Bawds,  insatiable  Curtizans  ? 
And  can  you  loue  that  villain  by  whose  deed 
Four  soule  doth  sigh,&  your  distrest  hart  bleed? 
6o5       Ful.  All  this  as  well  as  /  could  wish  my  selfe. 

Mis.Ar.Sir  I  haue  heard  thus  log  with  patiece, 
If  it  be  me  you  terme  a  villaines  wife, 
Insooth  you  haue  mistooke  me  all  this  while, 
And  neither  know  my  husband  nor  my  selfe, 
610  Or  else  you  know  not  man  and  wife  is  one  : 
If  he  be  cald  a  villaine,what  is  she 
Whose  hart,and  loue,&  soule,is  one  with  him  ? 
Tis  pittie  that  so  faire  a  Gentleman 
Should  fall  into  such  villaines  company. 
6i5  Oh  sir  take  heed,  if  you  regard  your  life, 

Meddle  not  with  a  villaine,or  his  wife.        Exit. 
Ful.  O  that  same  word  villain  hath  mard  all. 
An.  Now  where  is  your  instructio?wheres  the  wench? 
Where  are  my  hopes  ?  where  your  directions  ? 
620       Ful.  Why  man,  in  that  word  villain  you  mard  all. 
To  come  vnto  an  gonest  wife  and  call 
Her  husband  villaine,  were  she  nere  so  bad, 
Thou  mightst  well  think  she  wold  not  brooke  that  name 
For  her  owne  credit,  though  no  loue  to  him. 
625  But  leaue  not  thus,  but  trie  some  other  meane, 
Let  not  one  way  thy  hopes  make  frustrate  cleane. 

Ans.  I  must  persist  my  Loue  against  my  will, 
He  that  knows  all  things, knowes  I  proue  this  ill.  (Exeut. 

Enter  Aminadab  with  a  rod  in  his  hand, and  two  or  three 
63o  Boyes  with  their  bookes  in  their  hands. 

C    3  Ami. 


[22]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Ami.  Come  boyes,come  boyes,  rehearse  your  parts 
And  then  adprandium  iam  iam  incipe. 

I.  Boy.  Forsooth  my  lessons  torne  out  of  my  booke. 

A  mi.  Que  caceris  Chartis  deseruisse  decat, 
635  Torne  from  your  booke,  He  teare  it  from  your  breech. 
How  say  you  Mistris  Virga,vii\\  you  suffer 
Hicpuer  bone  indoiis,  to  teare 
His  Lessons, leaues  and  Lectures  from  his  booke? 

I.  Boy.   Truly  forsooth  I  laid  it  in  my  seate 
640  While  Robin  Glade  and  /  went  into  Campis  : 
And  when  /  came  againe  my  booke  was  torne. 

Ami.  O  mus  a  Mouse,  was  euer  heard  the  like  ? 

1.  Boy.  O  downs  a  house,  M.  /  could  not  mend  it. 

2.  Boy.  O  pediculus  a  Louse,/  knew  not  how  it  came. 
645       Ami.  All  toward  boyes,  good  schollers  of  their  times, 

The  least  of  these  is  past  his  Accidence, 
Some  at  Qui  mihi,  here's  not  a  boy 
But  he  can  conster  all  the  Gramer  Rules, 
Sed  vbi  stint  soledes,  not  yet  come  : 
65o  Those  tarde  vementes,  shall  be  whipt. 

Vbi  est  Pipkin,  where's  that  laizie  knaue  ? 
He  plaies  the  Truant  euery  Saterday  : 
But  Mistris  Virga,  Ladie  Willowby. 
Shall  teach  him  that  Dilucoli  surgere, 
655  Est  sa luberrimum,  here  comes  the  knaue. 

Enter  Pipkin. 

i. Boy.  Tarde,  tarde,  tarde. 
2.  Boy.  Tarde,  tarde,  tarde. 
Ami.  Hue  ades  Pipkin,  reach  a  better  rod, 
660  Cur  tarn  tarde  vemo,  speake, where  haue  you  bin? 
Is  this  a  time  of  day  to  come  to  schoole  ? 
Vbifinisti,  speake,  where  hast  thou  bin  ? 
Pip.  Magister,  quomodo  vales. 
Ami.  Is  that  responsio  fitting  my  demaund  ? 

Pip. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [23] 

665    Pip.  Etiam  certe,  you  aske  me  where  /  haue  bin, and  /  say 
Quomodo  vales, as  much  to  say,  come  out  of  the  alehouse. 
Ami.  Vntrusse,  vntrusse,  nay  helpe  him  ;  helpe  him. 
Pip.  Queso  preceptor,  queso  ?  for  Gods  sake  do  not  whip 
Quid  est  gramatica  ?  (me: 

670       Ami.  Not  whip  you,  Quid  est  gramatica,  whats  that  ? 
Pip.  Gramatica  est,  that  if  1  vntrust,you  must  needs  whip 
me  vpon  them,  quid  est  gramatica. 

Ami.  Why  then  die  mihi,  speak,  where  hast  thou  bin  ? 

Pip.  Forsooth  my  mistris  sent  me  of  an  errant  to  fetch 

675  my  M.  from  the  Exchange,  we  had  straungers  at  home  at 

dinner,  and  but  for  them  /  had  not  come  tarde  queso  pre- 

Ami.  Conster  your  lesson,  pearce  it,  ad  vngem  (ceptor. 

Et  condemnato,  to  He  pardon  thee. 

Pip.  That  /  wil  M.  and  if  youle  giue  meleaue.  (expone. 
680       Ami.  Propriaq ;  maribus  tribuuntur  Mascula  dicas  expone, 
Pip.  Coster  it  M.  /  wi\,Dicas  they  say,  Propria  the  pro 
per  man,que  maribus, that  loues  mary-bones,mascula,  mis- 
Ami.  A  prety  queint  &  new  construction.       (cald  me. 
Pip.  I  warrant  you  M.  if  there  be  mary-bones  in  my 
685  lesson,/  am  an  old  dog  at  them.  How  conster  you  this  M. 
Rostra  disertus  amat  ? 

Ami.  Disertus  a  disert,  amat  doth  \o\ie,rostra,  rostmeat. 
Pip.  A  good  construction  on  an  emptie  stomacke,  M. 
now  I  haue  consterd  my  lesson,  my  mistrisse  would  pray 
690  you  to  let  me  come  home  to  goe  of  an  errand. 
Ami.  Your  ires  sequntur,  and  away. 
Pip.  Canis  a  hog,  rana  a  dog,  Porous  a  Frog, 
Abeundum  est  mihi. 

Makes  a  legge,  and  Exit. 
6g5       Ami.  Yours  sirra  to  then,  and  ad  prandium. 

i. Boy.  Apis  a  bed,  genu  a  knee,  Vulcanus  Doctor  Dee  : 
Viginti  minus  vsus  est  mihi. 

Ami.  By  lunos  lip,  and  Saturnes  thumbe, 
It  was  bonus,bona,bonum.  2. Boy. 


[24]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

700       2.  Boy.  Vitrum  glasse,spica  grasse,  tit  es  Asinus,  you  are  an 
Asse,  Precor  tibifelicem  noctem. 

Ami.  Claudiie  Jam  libros  pueri  sat  prate  bibistis, 
Looke  when  you  come  againe,  you  tell  me  Vbifuistis. 
He  that  minds  trish  trash, &  wil  not  haue  care  of  his  rodix, 
7o5  He  I  wil  be  lish  lash, and  haue  a  fling  at  his  podix. 

Enter  yong  Arthur. 

Yong  Ar.  A  pretie  wench,  a  passing  pretie  wench, 
A  sweeter  duck  all  London  cannot  yeeld, 
She  cast  a  glaunce  on  me  as  /  past  by, 
710  Not  Hellen  had  so  rauishing  an  eye. 
Here  is  the  Pedant  Sir  Aminadab, 
I  wil  enquire  of  him  if  he  can  tell 
By  any  circumstance  whose  wife  she  : 
Such  fellowes  commonly  haue  entercourse 
7i5  Without  suspition,  where  we  are  debard. 
God  saue  you  gentle  Sir  Aminadab. 

Ami.  Salue  tu  quoq\, would  you  speak  with  me? 
Fou  are  I  take  it, and  let  me  not  lie, 
For  as  you  kuQwtMentirinonestmeum, 
720  yong  M.  Arthur,  quid  vis,  what  will  you? 

Yong  Ar.   Fou  are  a  man  I  much  relie  vpon  : 
There  is  a  pretie  wench  dwels  in  this  street, 
That  keeps  no  shop, nor  is  not  publike  knowne  : 
At  the  two  postes,next  turning  of  the  Lane, 
725  I  saw  her  from  a  window  looking  out : 

O  could  you  tell  me  how  to  come  acquainted 
With  that  sweet  Lasse,you  should  command  me 
Euen  to  the  vtmost  of  my  life  and  power,     (sir, 
Ami.  Dij  bom,  boni,  tis  my  Loue  he  meanes, 
73o  But  I  will  keep  it  from  this  Gentleman, 
And  so  I  hope  make  triall  of  my  Loue. 

Yon.Ar.  H  I  obtain  her,  thou  shalt  win  therby, 
More  then  at  this  time  I  will  promise  thee. 

Ami. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [25] 

Ami.  Quando  venis  aput,  I  shall  haue  two  horns  on  my 
735  Caput. 

Yon.Ar.  What  if  her  husband  come  &  find  one  there  ? 
Ami.  Nuncquam,  time  neuer  feare, 
She  is  vnmaried  I  sweare. 
But  if  I  helpe  you  to  the  deed, 
740  Tu  vis  narrare,  how  you  speed. 

Yong  Ar.  Tell  how  I  speed,!  sir  I  will  to  you: 
Then  presently  about  it.  Many  thankes 
For  this  great  kindnes  Sir  Aminadab. 

Ami.  If  my  Puella  proue  a  drab 
745  He  be  reuengd  on  both  :  ambo  shall  die, 
Shall  die  by  what,for  ego  I 
Haue  neuer  handled  I  thanke  God, 
Other  weapon  then  a  rod: 
I  dare  not  fight  for  all  my  speeches, 
760  Sed  caue,\i  I  take  him  thus 

Ego  sum  expers  at  vntrusse.  (Exeunt. 

Enter  Justice  Reason,  old  Arthur,  old  Lusam,  Mistris 

Arthur,  yong  Lusam  t  and  Hugh. 
Old  Ar.  We  Maister  Justice  Reason  come  about 
755  A  serious  matter  that  concernes  vs  neare. 

Old  Lu.  I  mary  doth  it  sir  concerne  vs  neare  : 
Would  God  sir  you  would  take  some  order  for  it. 

Old  Ar.  Why  looke  ye  M. Lusam,  you  are  such  another 
You  will  be  talking,  what  concernes  vs  neare, 
760  And  know  not  why  we  come  to  M.  Justice. 
Old  Lu.  How,  know  not  I  ? 
Old  Ar.  No  sir  not  you. 

Old  Lu.  Well  I  know  somewhat,  though  I  know  not 
Then  on  I  pray  you.  (that, 

765       lust.  Forward  I  pray,yet  the  case  is  plaine. 

Old  Ar.  Why  sir  as  yet  you  do  not  know  the  case. 
Old  Lu.  Well  he  knows  somewhat,  forward  M.  Arthur. 

D  Old  Ay. 


[26]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Old  Ar.  And  as  I  told  you, my  vnruly  sonne 
Once  hairing  bid  his  wife  home  to  my  house, 
770  There  tooke  occasion  to  be  much  agreeu'd 
About  some  houshold  matters  of  his  owne, 
And  in  plaine  termes  they  fell  in  controuersie. 

Ol.Lu.Tis  true  sir,  I  was  there  the  selfsame  time, 
And  I  remember  many  of  the  words. 

775       Old  Ar.  Lord  what  a  man  are  you,  you  were  not  there 
That  time,  as  I  remember  you  were  rid 
Downe  to  the  North, to  see  some  friends  of  yours. 
Old  Lu.  Well  I  was  somewhere,  forward  M.Arthur. 
lust.  All  this  is  well, no  fault  is  to  be  found 
780  In  either  of  the  parties,  pray  say  on. 

Old  Ar.  Why  sir  I  haue  not  nam'd  the  parties  yet, 
Nor  tucht  the  fault  that  is  complaind  vpon. 
Old  Lu.  Wei  you  tucht  somewhat :  forward  M.Arthur. 
Old  Ar.  And  as  I  said,they  fell  in  controuersie  : 
785  My  sonne  not  like  a  husband  gaue  her  words 
Of  great  reproofe,  despight,  and  contumely  : 
Which  she  poore  soule  disgested  patiently : 
This  was  the  first  time  of  their  falling  out. 
As  I  remember  at  the  selfe  same  time 
790  One  Thomas  the  Earle  of  Surreys  gentleman 
Dinde  at  my  table. 

Old  L,u.  O  I  knew  him  well. 
Old  Ar.  You  are  the  strangest  man,  this  gentle- 
That  I  speak  of,  I  am  sure  you  neuer  saw,     (man 
7g5  He  came  but  lately  from  beyond  the  sea.      (sir. 
Old  Lu.l  am  sure  I  know  one  7^ homas forward 
lust.  And  is  this  all  ?  make  me  a  Mittimus, 
And  send  the  offender  straitwaies  to  the  gaile. 

Old  Ar.  First  know  the  offender,  how  began  the  strife 
800  Betwixt  this  gentlewoman  and  my  sonne, 
Since  when  sir  he  hath  vsde  her  not  like  one 

That 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [27] 

That  should  partake  his  bed, but  like  a  slaue. 

My  comming  was, that  you  being  in  office 

And  in  authoritie,  should  call  before  you 
8o5  My  vnthrift  sonne,to  giue  him  some  aduise, 

Which  he  will  take  better  from  you,  then  me 

That  am  his  Father.  Heer's  the  gentlewoman 

Wife  to  my  sonne,and  daughter  to  this  man, 

Whom  I  perforce  compeld  to  liue  with  vs. 
810       lust.  All  this  is  wel,here  is  your  sonne  you  say, 

But  she  that  is  his  wife  you  cannot  finde. 

Yong  Lu.  You  do  mistake  sir,heer's  the  gentlewoman, 

It  is  her  husband  that  will  not  be  found. 

lust.  Well  all  is  one, for  man  and  wife  are  one: 
8i5  But  is  this  all? 

Yong  Lu.  I  all  that  you  can  say, 

And  much  more  then  you  can  well  put  off. 
lust.   Nay  if  the  case  appeare  thus  euident, 

Giue  me  a  cup  of  wine,  what  man  and  wife 
820  To  disagree,  I  prethee  fill  my  cup: 

I  could  say  somewhat, tut, tut, by  this  wine, 

I  promise  you,  tis  good  Canary  Sack. 

Mis.Ar.  Fathers  you  do  me  open  violence 

To  bring  my  name  in  question, and  produce 
825  This  gentleman  and  others  here  to  witnesse 

My  husbands  shame  in  open  audience  : 

What  may  my  husband  thinke  when  he  shall 

I  went  vnto  the  Justice  to  complaine  :      (know 

But  M.  Justice  here  more  wise  then  you, 
83o  Saies  little  to  the  matter, knowing  well 

His  office  is  no  whit  concernd  herein  : 

Therefore  with  fauour  I  will  take  my  leaue. 
lust.  The  woman  saith  but  reason  M.  Arthur, 

And  therefore  giue  her  licence  to  depart. 
835      Old  Lu.  Here  is  drie  Justice  not  to  bid  vs  drink, 

D  2  Harke 


[28]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Harke  thee  my  friend,  I  prethee  lend  thy  cup  : 
Now  M.  Justice  heare  me  but  one  word, 
You  thinke  this  woman  hath  had  little  wrong  ? 
But  by  this  wine  which  I  intend  to  drinke. 

840       lust.   Nay  saue  your  oath,  I  pray  you  do  not  sweare, 
Or  if  you  sweare,  take  not  too  deepe  an  oath. 

Old  Lu.  Content  you,  I  may  take  a  lawfull  oath 
Before  a  Justice  :  therefore  by  this  wine. 
Yon.Lu.  A  profound  oath,wel  sworne,&  deeply  tooke, 

845  Tis  better  thus,  then  swearing  on  a  booke. 

Old  Lu.   My  daughter  hath  bin  wrongd  exceedingly. 
lust.  O  sir,  I  would  haue  credited  these  words 
Without  this  oath  :  but  bring  your  daughter  hither, 
That  I  may  giue  her  counsell  ere  you  goe. 

85o       Old  Lu.  Mary  Gods  blessing  on  your  heart  for  that, 
Daughter  giue  eare  to  Justice  Reasons  words. 

lust.  Good  woman,  or  good  wife,  or  Mistresse,  if  you 
haue  done  amisse,  it  should  seeme  you  haue  done  a  fault; 
and  making  a  fault ,  theres  no  questio  but  you  haue  done 

855  amisse  :  but  if  you  walke  vprightly,and  neither  lead  to  the 
right  hand  nor  the  left,  no  question  but  you  haue  neither 
led  to  the  right  hand  nor  the  left, but  as  a  man  should  say, 
walked  vprightly  :  but  it  should  appeare  by  these  plain- 
tiffes,  that  you  haue  had  some  wrong,  If  you  loue  your 

860  spouse  intierly,  it  should  seeme  you  affect  him  feruently ; 
and  if  he  hate  you  monstrously,  it  should  seeme  he  loaths 
you  most  exceedingly  :  and  theres  the  point ,  at  which 
/  will  leaue  ,  for  the  time  passes  away  :  therefore  to  con 
clude,  this  is  my  best  counsell,  looke  that  thy  husband  so 

865  fall  in, that  hereafter  you  neuer  fall  out. 

Old  Lu.  Good  counsell,  passing  good  instruction, 
Follow  it  daughter.  Now  I  promise  you, 
I  haue  not  heard  such  an  Oration 
This  many  a  day  :  what  remaines  to  doo  ? 

Yong  Lu. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [29] 


870       Yon.Lu.  Sir  I  was  cald  as  witnesse  to  this  matter, 

I  may  be  gone  for  ought  that  I  can  see. 

lust.  Nay  staie  my  friend,  we  must  examine  you, 

What  can  you  say  concerning  this  debate 

Betwixt  yong  M.  Arthur  and  his  wife  ? 
875       Yong  Lu.  Faith  iust  as  much  I  thinke  as  you  can  say, 

And  thats  iust  nothing. 

lust.    How  nothing?  come  depose  him,  take  his  oath, 

Sweare  him  I  say,take  his  confession. 

Old  Ar.  What  can  you  say  sir  in  this  doubtfull  case  ? 
880       Yong  Lu.  Why  nothing  sir. 

lust.  We  cannot  take  him  in  contrary  tales, 

For  he  saies  nothing  still,  and  that  same  nothing 

Is  that  which  we  haue  stood  on  all  this  while: 

He  hath  confest  euen  all,  for  all  is  nothing. 
885  This  is  your  witnesse,  he  hath  witnest  nothing. 

Since  nothing  then  so  plainly  is  confest, 

And  we  by  cunning  answeres  and  by  wit 

Haue  wrought  him  to  confesse  nothing  to  vs, 

Write  his  confession. 
890       Old  Ar.  Why  what  should  we  write  ? 

lust.  Why  nothing  :  heard  you  not  as  wel  as  I 

What  he  confest  ?  I  say  write  nothing  downe. 

Mistris  we  haue  dismist  you,loue  your  husband, 

Which  whilst  you  do,  you  shall  not  hate  your  husband. 
8g5  Bring  him  before  me,  I  will  vrge  him  with 

This  Gentlemans  expresse  confession 

Against  you  :  send  him  to  me,  He  not  faile 

To  keepe  iust  nothing  in  my  memorie. 

And  sir  now  that  we  haue  examined  you, 
goo  We  likewise  here  discharge  you  with  good  leaue. 

Now  M.  Arthur, and  M.  Lusam  too, 

Come  in  with  me,  vnlesse  the  man  were  here 

Whom  most  especially  the  cause  concernes, 

D    3  We 


[3oJ  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

We  cannot  end  this  quarrell  :  but  come  neere, 
go5  And  we  will  taste  a  glasse  of  our  March  beere.     (Exeunt. 

Enter  Mistris  Mary,Mistris  Splay, and  Brabo. 
Ma.  I  prethee  tell  me  Brabo  ,  what  Planet  thinkst  thou 

gouernd  at  my  conception.that  I  Hue  thus  openly  to  the 

world  ? 
910    Bra.  Two  Planets  raind  at  once,  Venus  thats  you, 

And  Mars  thats  /,  were  in  coniunction. 

Splay.    Prethee,  prethee,  in  faith  that  coniunction  co- 

pulatiue,  is  that  part  of  speech  that  I  Hue  by. 

Bra.   Ha, ha,  to  see  the  world, we  swaggerers 
gi5  That  Hue  by  oathes  and  big-mouth'd  menaces, 

Are  now  reputed  for  the  tallest  men: 

He  that  hath  now  a  black  muchato 

Reaching  from  eare  to  eare,or  turning  vp 

Puncto  reuerso, bristling  towards  the  eye  : 
920  He  that  can  hang  two  hansom  tooles  at  his  side, 

Go  in  disguisde  attire, weare  Iron  enough, 

Is  held  a  tall  man  and  a  souldier.  (zounds, 

He  that  with  greatest  grace  can  sweare  gogs 

Or  in  a  Tauerne  make  a  drunken  fray, 
926  Can  cheat  at  Dice, swagger  in  bawdie  houses, 

Weare  veluet  on  his  face, and  with  a  grace 

Can  face  it  out  with  as  /  am  a  souldier. 

He  that  can  clap  his  sword  vpon  the  boord 

Hee's  a  braue  man, and  such  a  man  am  I. 
980       Ma.    She  that  with  kisses  can  both  kil  &  cure, 

That  Hues  by  loue,  that  sweares  by  nothing  else 

But  by  a  kisse,which  is  no  common  oath  : 

That  Hues  by  lying, and  yet  oft  tels  truth; 

That  takes  most  pleasure  when  she  takes  most  paines  : 
935  Shee's  a  good  wench  my  boy, and  such  am  I. 

Splay.  She  that  is  past  it,  and  praies  for  them  that  may. 
Bra.  Is  an  old  Bawd  as  you  are  Mistris  Splay. 

Splay. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [3i  ] 

Splay.  O  do  not  name  that  name,do  you  not  know 

That  7  could  neuer  endure  to  heare  that  name. 
940  But  if  your  man  would  leaue  vs,  7  would  read 

The  lesson  that  last  night  7  promist  you. 

Ma.  I  prethee  leaue  vs,we  would  be  alone. 
Bra.  And  will  and  must  :  if  you  bid  me  be  gone, 

7  will  withdraw,  and  draw  on  any  he 
0^5  That  in  the  worlds  wide  round  dare  cope  with  me. 

Mistris  farewell, to  none  7  neuer  speake 

So  kind  a  word.  My  salutations  are, 

Farewell  and  be  hangd,  or  in  the  diuels  name. 

What  they  haue  bene  my  many  fraies  can  tell, 
g5o  You  cannot  fight, therefore  to  you  farwell.    (Exit,  (tion, 
Ma.  O  this  same  swaggerer  is  the  bulwark  of  my  reputa- 

But  Mistris  Splay, now  to  your  lecture  that  you  promist 
Splay.  Daughter  attend, for  7  will  tell  thee  now    (me: 

What  in  my  yong  daies  I  my  selfe  haue  tried  : 
955  Be  rul'd  by  me  and  7  will  make  thee  rich. 

You  God  be  praisde  are  faire,and  as  they  say 

Full  of  good  parts,  you  haue  bene  often  tried 

To  be  a  woman  of  good  carriage, 

Which  in  my  mind  is  very  commendable. 
960       Ma.  It  is  indeed.  Forward  good  mother  Splay. 
Splay.  And  as  7  told  you, being  faire,  7  wish 

Sweet  daughter  you  were  as  fortunate. 

When  any  sutor  comes  to  aske  thy  loue, 

Looke  not  into  his  words, but  into  his  sleeue, 
965  7f  thou  canst  learne  what  language  his  purse  speakes, 

Be  rul'd  by  that,  thats  golden  eloquence. 

Mony  can  make  a  slauering  tongue  speake  plaine: 

If  he  that  loues  thee  be  deform'd  and  rich, 

Accept  his  loue,  gold  hides  deformitie. 
970  Gold  can  make  limping  Vulcan  walke  vpright, 

Make  squint  eyes  looke  strait,a  crabd  face  looke  smooth, 

Guilds 


[32]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Guilds  Copernoses,  makes  them  looke  like  gold: 
Fils  ages  wrinkles  vp,and  makes  a  face 
As  old  as  Nestors,  looke  as  yong  as  Cupids, 
975  If  thou  wilt  arme  thy  selfe  against  all  shifts, 
Regard  all  men  according  to  their  gifts. 
This  if  thou  practise,  thou  when  I  am  dead 
Wilt  say  old  mother  Splay  soft  laid  thy  head. 

Enter  yong  Arthur. 

980      Ma.  Soft  who  comes  here  ?  begone  good  Mistris  Splay, 
Of  thy  rules  practise  this  is  my  first  day. 

Splay.  God  for  thy  passion  what  a  beast  am  /, 
To  scar  the  bird  that  to  the  net  would  flie.        Exit. 

YongAr.  By  your  leaue  Mistresse. 
985       Ma.  What  to  do  Maister  ? 

Yong  Ar.  To  giue  me  leaue  to  loue  you. 
Ma.  I  had  rather  afford  you  some  loue  to  leaue  me. 
Yon.Ar.I  would  you  would  assoone  loue  me, as  /  could 
Ma.  I  pray  you  what  are  you  sir  ?  (leaue  you. 

990        Yon.Ar.  A  man  He  assure  you. 
Ma.   How  should  /  know  that  ? 
Yong  Ar.  Trie  me  by  my  word, for  /  say  /  am  a  man, 
Or  by  my  deed, He  proue  my  selfe  a  man. 

Ma.  Are  you  not  Maister  Arthur  ? 
995        Yon.Ar.  Not  M.  Arthur,but  Arthur, and  your  seruant 

sweete  Mistris  Mary. 
Ma.  Not  Mistris  Mary,  but  Mary  and  your  handmaid, 

sweet  Maister  Arthur. 

Yong  Ar.  That  /  loue  you,  let  my  face  tell  you  :  that  I 

looo  loue  you  more  then  ordinarily,  let  this  kisse  testifie  :  and 

that  I  loue  you  feruently  and  entierly,  aske  this  gift,  and 

see  what  it  will  answere  you.  My  selfe,  my  purse,  and  all 

being  wholy  at  your  seruice. 

Ma.  That  /  take  your  loue  in  good  part,  my  thank's 
ioo5  shall  speak  for  me  :  that  /  am  pleasde  with  your  kisse,  this 

interest 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [33] 

interest  of  an  other  shall  certifie  you  :  and  that  I  accept 
your  gift,  my  prostrate  seruice  and  selfe  shall  witnes  with 
me.  My  loue,my  lips, and  sweet  selfe, are  at  your  seruice  : 
wilt  please  you  to  come  neare  sir  ? 

1010       Yon.Lu.  O  that  my  wife  were  dead, here  would  I  make 
My  second  choise,  would  she  were  buried, 
From  out  her  graue  this  Marigold  should  grow, 
Which  in  my  nuptials  /  wold  weare  with  pride. 
Die  shall  shee,I  haue  doom'd  her  destenie. 

ioi5       Ma.  Tis  newes  M.  Arthur  to  see  you  in  such  a 
How  doth  your  wife  ?  (place, 

Yong  A  r.  Faith  Mistris  Mary  at  the  point  of  death, 
And  long  she  cannot  Hue, she  shall  not  Hue 
To  trouble  me  in  this  my  second  choice. 

1020  Enter  A  minadab  with  a  bill  and  head-peece. 

Ma.  I  pray  forbeare  sir,  for  here  comes  my  Loue, 
Good  sir  for  this  time  leaue  me  :  by  this  kisse 
You  cannot  aske  the  question  at  my  hands 
I  will  denie  you  :  pray  you  get  you  gone. 

1025       YongAr.  Farwell  sweet  Mistris  Mary.  (Exit. 

Ma.  Sweet  adieu  : 

Ami.  Stand  to  me  bill,  and  head-peece  sit  thou  close, 
I  heare  my  Loue,my  wench, my  duck, my  deare, 
Is  sought  by  many  sutors,but  with  this 

io3o  He  keep  the  doore,and  enter  he  that  dare. 
Virga  be  gone, thy  twigs  lie  turne  to  steele, 
These  fingers  that  were  expert  in  the  lerke, 
In  steed  of  lashing  of  the  trembling  podes, 
Must  learne  pash  and  knock, and  beate  and  mall, 

io35  Cleaue  pates, and  caputs  he  that  enters  here 

Comes  on  his  death,  mors  mort,  is  he  shall  taste. 

Ma.  Alas  poore  tbole,the  Pedants  mad  for  loue, 
Thinkes  me  more  mad  that  I  would  marry  him  : 
Hee's  come  to  watch  me  with  a  rustic  bill, 

E  To 


[34]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

1040  To  keep  my  friends  away  by  force  of  armes, 
I  will  not  see  him  but  stand  still  aside, 
And  here  obserue  him  what  he  meanes  to  doo. 

Ami.  O  vtinamttha.t  he  that  loues  her  best 
Durst  offer  but  to  tuch  her  in  this  place. 
1045  Per  Iehoua,&  lunonem  hoc, 

Shall  pash  his  Coxcombe  such  a  knock, 
As  that  his  soule  his  course  shall  take 
To  Limbo, and  Auernus  lake. 
In  vaine  I  watch  in  this  darke  hole, 
io5o  Would  any  liuing  durst  my  manhood  trie, 
And  offer  to  come  vp  the  staires  this  way. 

Ma.  O  we  should  see  you  make  a  goodly  fray. 
Ami.  The  wench  I  here  watch  with  my  bill, 
Amo ,amas Barnaul  still. 
io55  Qui  audetlet  him  come  that  dare, 

Death,  hell,  and  Limbo  be  his  share. 

Enter  Brabo. 

Bra.  Wheres  mistris  Mary,neuer  a  post  here, 
A  bar  of  Iron  gainst  which  to  trie  my  sword? 
1060  Now  by  my  beard  a  daintie  peece  of  steele. 
Ami.  O  loue  what  a  qualme  is  this  I  feele? 
Bra.  Come  hither  Mall,  is  none  here  but  we  two  ? 
When  didst  thou  see  the  starueling  Schoole-maister  ? 
That  Rat,that  shrimp, that  spindleshanck,  that  Wren, that 
io65  sheep-biter,  that  leane  chittiface,  that  famine,  that  leane 
Enuy,that  all  bones, that  bare  Anatomy, that  Jack  a  Lent, 
that  ghost, that  shadow, that  Moone  in  the  waine. 
Ami.  I  waile  in  woe, I  plunge  in  paine. 
Bra.  When  next  I  finde  him  here  He  hang  him  vp 
1070  Like  a  dried  Sawsedge,  in  the  Chimnies  top  : 

That  Stock-fish,  thatpoore  Iohn,that  gut  of  men. 
Ami.  O  that  I  were  at  home  againe. 
Bra.  When  he  comes  next  turne  him  into  the  streets, 

Now 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [35] 

Now  come  lets  dance  the  shaking  of  the  sheets.    Exeunt. 
1075       Ami.  Oui  que  quod,  hence  boystrous  bill,  come  gentle 
Had  not  grim  Mctlkin  stampt  and  star'd,  (Rod. 

Aminadab  had  little  car'd  : 
Or  if  in  stead  of  this  browne  bill, 
I  had  kept  my  mistrisVirga  still, 
1080  And  he  vpon  an  others  back, 

His  points  vntrust,his  breeches  slack: 
My  countenance  he  should  not  dash, 
For  I  am  expert  in  the  lash. 
But  my  sweet  Lasse  my  loue  doth  flie, 
io85  Which  shall  make  me  by  poyson  die. 
Per  fid  em, I  will  rid  my  life, 
Either  by  poyson, sword, or  knife.        Exit. 

Enter  Mistris  Arthur, and  Pipkin. 
Mis.Ar.  Sirra  when  saw  you  your  Maister? 
1090       Pip.  Faith  Mistris  when  I  last  lookt  vpon  him. 
Mis.Ar.  And  when  was  that  ? 
Pip.  When  I  beheld  him. 
Mist.Ar.  And  when  was  that? 

Pip.  Mary  when  he  was  in  my  sight,  and  that  was  ye- 
loo,5  sterday, since  when  I  saw  not  my  maister,nor  lookt  on  my 
M.  nor  beheld  my  maister,nor  had  any  sight  of  my  M. 
Mis.Ar.  Was  he  not  at  my  father  in  lawes  ? 
Pip.  Yes  mary  was  he. 

Mis.Ar.  Didst  thou  not  intreat  him  to  come  home  ? 
I  loo       Pip.  How  should  I  mistris,he  came  not  there  to  day. 
Mis.Ar.  Didst  not  thou  say  he  was  there  ? 
Pip.  True  mistris  he  was  there,but  I  did  not  tel  ye  whe, 
He  hath  bin  there  diuers  times, but  not  of  late. 

Mis.Ar.  About  your  busines,here  He  sit  and  wait 
no5  His  comming  home, though  it  be  nere  so  late. 
Now  once  againe  goe  looke  him  at  the  Change, 
Or  at  the  Church  with  Sir  Aminadab, 

£2  Tis 


[36]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Tis  told  me  they  vse  often  conference  : 
When  that  is  done, get  you  to  schoole  againe. 

mo       Pip.  I  had  rather  plaie  the  trewant  at  home,  then  goe 
*  seeke  my  M.  at  schoole  :  let  me  see  what  age  am  /,  some 
foure  &  twentie,and  how  haue  /  profited,/  was  fiue  yeare 
learning  to  crish  Crosse  from  great  A.  and  fiue  yeare  lon 
ger  comming  to  F.  /  there  I  stucke  some  three  yeare  be- 

Iii5  fore  I  could  come  to  q.and  so  in  processe  of  time  /  came 
to  e  perce  e,  and  comperce,and  tittle,  then  /  got  to  a.  e. 
i.  o.  u.  after  to  our  Father,  and  in  the  sixteenth  yeare  of 
my  age,  and  the  fifteenth  of  my  going  to  schoole,  /  am  in 
good  time  gotten  to  a  Nowne,  by  the  same  token  there 

1120  my  hose  went  downe  :  then  /  got  to  a  Verbe,  there  I  be 
gan  first  to  haue  a  beard :  the  /came  to  Iste,ista,istud,\here 
my  M.  whipt  me  till  he  fetcht  the  blood,and  so  foorth:so 
that  now  I  am  come  the  greatest  scholler  in  the  schoole  : 
for  I  am  bigger  then  two  or  three  of  them.  But  I  am  gone, 

1 125  farewell  mistresse  (Exit. 

Enter  Anselme  and  Fuller. 

Ful.  Loue  none  at  all, they  will  forsweare  themselues, 
And  when  you  vrge  them  with  it,  their  replies 
Are,  that  loue  laughes  at  Louers  periuries. 

Ii3o       Kns.  You  told  me  of  a  lest  concerning  that, 
/  prethee  let  me  heare  it. 
Ful.  That  thou  shalt. 
My  mistris  in  an  humor  had  protested, 
That  aboue  all  the  world  she  lou'd  me  best, 

Il35  Saying  with  sutors  she  was  oft  molested, 

And  she  had  lodg'd  her  hart  within  my  brest  : 
And  sware(but  me)  both  by  her  maske  &  fan, 
She  neuer  would  so  much  as  name  a  man. 
Not  name  a  man  quoth  I,  yet  be  aduisde, 

1140  Not  loue  a  man  but  me,  let  it  be  so  : 

You  shall  not  think  quoth  she  my  thoughts  disguisde, 

In 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [87] 

7n  flattring  language, or  dissembling  show  : 
/  say  againe,  and  /  know  what  /  do, 
/  will  not  name  a  man  aliue  but  you. 

1145  Into  her  house  /  came  at  vnaware, 

Her  backe  was  to  me  and  I  was  not  seene, 
/  stole  behind  her  till  7  had  her  faire, 
Then  with  my  hands  7  closed  both  her  eyne, 
She  blinded  thus,beginneth  to  bethinke  her 

n5o  Which  of  her  Loues  it  was  that  did  hood-winck 
First  she  begins  to  guesse  &  name  a  man    fher, 
That  7  well  knew,but  she  had  knowne  far  better. 
The  next  7  neuer  did  suspect  till  than  : 
Still  of  my  name  7  could  not  heare  a  letter, 

n55  Then  mad,  she  did  name  Robin, and  then  lames , 
Till  she  had  reckoned  vp  fome  twentie  names, 
At  length  when  she  had  counted  vp  her  score, 
As  one  among  the  rest  she  hit  on  mee  : 
7  askt  her  if  she  could  not  recken  more, 

1160  And  pluckt  away  my  hands  to  let  her  see. 

But  when  she  lookt  back  and  saw  me  behind  her 
She  blusht,and  askt  if  it  were  7  did  blind  her  ? 
And  since  7  sware  both  by  her  maske  and  fan, 
To  trust  no  she  tongue,that  can  name  a  man. 

n65       Ans.  Your  great  oath  hath  some  exceptions  : 
But  to  our  former  purpose, yon  is  Mistris  Arthur, 
We  will  attempt  another  kind  of  wooing, 
And  make  her  hate  her  husband  if  we  can. 
Ful.  But  not  a  word  of  passion  or  of  loue. 

1170  Haue  at  her  now  to  trie  her  patience, 
God  saue  you  mistris. 

Mis.Ar.  You  are  welcome  sir. 

Ful.  I  pray  you  wheres  your  husband  ? 

Yon.Ar.  Not  within. 

Ans.  Who  M.  Arthur  ?  him  7  saw  euen  now 

E    3  At 


[38]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

At  mistris  Maries  the  braue  Curtizans. 

Mis.Ar. Wrong  not  my  husbands  reputatio  so, 
I  neither  can  nor  will  beleeue  you  sir. 

Fid.  Poore  gentlewoman  how  much  /  pittie 
1180  Your  husband  is  become  her  only  gueft:     (you, 
He  lodges  there, and  daily  diets  there, 
He  riots, reuels, and  doth  all  things, 
Nay  he  is  held  the  M.  of  misrule, 
Mongst  a  most  loathed  and  abhorred  Crew. 
n85  And  can  you  being  a  woman  suffer  this  ? 

Mis.Ar.  Sir, sir,  I  vnderstand  you  well  inough, 
Admit  my  husband  doth  frequent  that  house 
Of  such  dishonest  vsage,  /  suppose 
He  doth  it  but  in  zeale  to  bring  them  home 
1190  By  his  good  counsell,from  that  course  of  sinne  : 
And  like  a  Christian,  seeing  them  astray 
In  the  broad  path  that  to  damnation  leades, 
He  vseth  thither  to  direct  their  feete 
Into  the  narrow  way  that  guides  to  heauen. 
ng5       Ans.  Was  euer  woman  guld  so  palpably? 
But  Mistris  Arthur  thinke  you  as  you  say  ? 

Mis.Ar.  Sir  what  /  think  /  think, and  what  I  say 
I  would  I  could  enioyne  you  to  beleeue. 

Ans.  Faith  mistris  Arthur  I  am  sory  for  you, 
1200  And  in  good  sooth,  I  wish  itlaie  in  me 

To  remedie  the  least  part  of  these  wrongs 
Your  vnkind  husband  daily  profers  you. 

Mis.Ar.  You  are  deceiu'd  he  is  not  vnkind, 
Although  he  beare  an  outward  face  of  hate, 
I2o5  His  hart  and  soule  are  both  assured  mine. 

Ans.  Fie  mistris  Arthur ,take  a  better  spirit, 
Be  not  so  timerous  to  rehearse  your  wrongs, 
/  say  your  husband  haunts  bad  company, 
Swaggerers, cheaters, wanton  Curtizans. 

There 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [3g] 

1210  There  he  defiles  his  bodie,staines  his  soule, 

Consumes  his  wealth, vndoes  himselfe  and  you, 
In  danger  of  diseases, whose  vilde  names 
Are  not  for  any  honest  mouthes  to  speake, 
Nor  any  chaste  eares  to  receiue  and  heare. 

I2i5  O  he  will  bring  that  face  admir'd  for  beautie, 
To  be  more  loathed  then  a  leaprous  skin  : 
Diuorce  your  selfe  now  whilst  the  clouds  grow  black, 
Prepare  your  selfe  a  shelter  for  the  storme, 
Abandon  his  most  loathed  fellowship  : 

1220  You  are  yong  mistris,  will  you  loose  your  youth  ? 
Mis.Ar.  Tempt  no  more  diuel,  thy  deformitie 
Hath  chaung'd  it  selfe  into  an  angels  shape, 
But  yet  7  know  thee  by  thy  course  of  speech  : 
Thou  gets  an  apple  to  betray  poore  Eue, 

1225  Whose  outside  beares  a  show  of  pleasant  fruite, 
But  the  vilde  branch  on  which  this  apple  grew, 
Was  that  which  drew  poore  Eue  from  Paradice. 
Thy  Syrens  song  could  make  me  drowne  my  selfe, 
But  /  am  tyed  vnto  the  mast  of  truth. 

I23o  ^4dmit  my  husband  be  inclin'd  to  vice, 
My  vertues  may  in  time  recall  him  home, 
But  if  we  both  should  desp'rate  runne  to  sinne, 
We  should  abide  certaine  destruction. 
But  hee's  like  one  that  ouer  a  sweet  face 

1235  Puts  a  deformed  vizard  for  his  soule, 
Is  free  from  any  such  intents  of  ill  : 
Only  to  try  my  patience, he  puts  on 
An  vgly  shape  of  black  intemperance. 
Therefore  this  blot  of  shame  which  he  now  weares, 

1240  I  with  my  praiers  will  purge,  wash  with  teares. 

Exit. 

Ans.  Fuller. 
Ful.  hnselme. 

Ans. 


[40]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Ans.  How  lik'st  thou  this? 

1245       Ful.  As  schoole-bo}^es  Jerkes,Apes  whips,  as  Lions 
As  Furies  do  fasting  daies,and  diuels  crosses,       (Cocks, 
As  maides  to  haue  their  manage  daies  put  off : 
/  like  it  as  the  thing  /  most  do  loath, 
What  wilt  thou  do  ?  for  shame  persist  no  more 
I25o  /n  this  extremitie  of  friuolous  loue. 

/  see  my  doctrine  tnoues  no  precise  eares, 
But  such  as  are  profest  inamoratos. 
Ans.  O  /  shall  die. 
Ful.  Tush  Hue  to  laugh  a  little, 
1255  Here's  the  best  subiect  that  thy  loue  affords, 
Listen  a  while  and  heare  this  :  hoboy  speake. 

Ami.  As  in  ptesenti,thou  loath'st  the  gift  I  sent  thee, 
Nolo  plus  tarrie  but  die, for  the  beautious  marry, 
Fain  wold /die  by  a  sword, but  what  sword  shal  I  die  by? 
1260  Or  by  a  stone,  what  stone  ?  nullus  lapis  iacet  ibi.  (vaines, 
Knife  I  haue  none  to  sheath  in  my  brest,or  emptie  my  full 
Here  is  no  wal  or  post  which  I  can  soile  within  my  brus'd 

braines. 

First  will  I  therfore  fay  2.  or  3.  Creedes  and  Auemaries, 
1265  And  after  goe  buy  a  poison  at  the  Apothecaries. 

Ful.  I  prethee  Anselme  but  obserue  this  fellow, 
Doest  not  heare  him  ?  he  would  die  for  loue, 
That  mishapt  loue  thou  wouldst  condemne  in  him, 
I  see  in  thee, I  prethee  note  him  well. 
1270       Ans.  Were  I  assurs'd  that  I  were  such  a  Louer, 
I  should  be  with  my  selfe  quite  out  of  loue  : 
I  prethee  lets  perswade  him  still  to  Hue. 

Ful.  That  were  a  dangerous  case,  perhaps  the  fellow 
In  desperation  would  to  sooth  vs  vp, 
1275  Promise  repentant  recantation, 

And  after  fall  into  that  desperate  course, 
Both  which  I  will  preuent  with  policie. 

Ami. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [41  ] 

Ami.  O  death  come  with  thy  dart,come  death  whe  I  bid 

Mors  vem  vent  mors,  and  from  this  misery  rid  mee.   fthee, 
1280  She  whom  I  lou'd,  whom  I  lou'd, eue  she  my  sweet  pretie 

Djth  but  flout  &  mock,&  Iest,and  dissimulary.       (Mary. 
Ful.  He  fit  him  finelyiin  this  paper  is 

The  luice  of  Mandrake,  by  a  Doctor  made 

To  cast  a  man  whose  leg  should  be  cut  oft, 
1285  Into  a  deep, a  cold  and  senceles  sleepe, 

Of  such  approued  operation, 

That  who  so  takes  it, is  for  twice  twelue  houres 

Breathlessc,and  to  all  mens  iudgements  past  all  sence: 

This  will  I  giue  the  pedant  but  in  sport, 
1290  For  when  tis  knowne  to  take  effect  in  him, 

The  world  will  but  esteeme  it  as  a  lest  : 

Besides  it  may  be  a  meanes  to  saue  his  life, 

For  being  perfect  poyson  as  it  seemes, 

His  meaning  is,  some  couetous  slaue  for  coyne 
1296  Will  sell  it  him,  though  it  be  held  by  lawe 

To  be  no  better  then  flat  felonie. 

Ans.  Vphold  the  left, but  he  hath  spied  vs,  peace. 
A  mi.  Gentiles  God  saue  you, 

Here  is  a  man  I  haue  noted  oft,  most  learned  in  Physick, 
i3co  One  man  he  helpt  of  the  Cough,another  he  heald  of  the 

And  I  will  boord  him  thus:  Salue  6  Salue  Magister.  (tisick: 
Ful.  Grains  mihi  aduenis  quid  me  cum  vis. 
Ami.  Optatum  venis paucis  to  volo. 
Ful.  Si  quid  industria  nostra  tibifaciet  die  queso. 
i3o5       Ami.  Attend  me  sir, I  haue  a  simple  house, 

But  as  the  learned  Diogenes  saith 

In  his  Epistle  to  Tertullian, 

It  is  extremely  troubled  with  great  Ratts, 

I  haue  no  mus  pusse  nor  grey  eyde  Cat 
i3io  To  hunt  them  out.O  could  your  learned  Art 

Shew  me  a  meanes  how  I  might  poyson  them: 

F  Tuus 


[42]  A  pleasant  conceited  Cotnedie 

Tuus  dum  suus,sir  Aminadab. 
Ful.  With  all  my  hart,  I  am  no  Rat-catcher, 
But  if  you  need  a  poyson,here  is  that 
i3i5  Will  pepper  both  your  Dogs  &  Rats  and  Cats  : 
Nay  spare  your  purse,!  giue  this  in  good  will, 
And  as  it  proues  I  pray  you  send  to  me. 
And  let  me  know,  wold  you  ought  else  with  me? 

Ami.  Minime  quidem,heer's  that  you  say  wil  take  them? 
i320  A  thousand  thankes  sweet  sir,  I  say  to  you 
As  Tully  in  his  ALsops  Fables  said, 
Ago  tibi  gratias,  so  farewell,  vale.  Exit. 

Ful.  Adiew.Come  let  vs  goe,  I  long  to  see 
What  the  euent  of  this  new  left  will  bee. 
i325  Enter  yong  Arthur . 

Yong  Ar.  Good  morrow  gentlemen,  saw  you  not  this 
As  you  were  walking, Sir  Aminadab  ?  (way 

Ans.  M.  Arthur  as  I  take  it. 
Yon.Ar.  Sir  the  same. 

i33o       Ans.  Sir  I  desire  you  more  familiar  loue, 
Would  I  could  bid  my  selfe  vnto  your  house, 
For  I  haue  wisht  for  your  acquaintance  long. 

Yon.Ar.  Sweet  M.Anselme  I  desire  yours  too  : 
Wil  you  come  dine  with  me  at  home  to  morow, 
i335  You  shall  be  welcome  I  assure  you  sir. 

Ans.  I  feare  sir  I  shall  proue  too  bold  a  gueft. 
Yon.Ar.  You  shal  be  welcome  if  you  bring  your  friend. 
Ful.  O  Lord  sir,we  shall  be  too  troublesome. 
Yong  Ar.  Nay  now  I  will  inforce  a  promise  from  you, 
1340  Shall  I  expect  you  ? 

Ful.  Yes  with  all  my  heart. 

Ans.  A  thousand  thankes.  Yonders  the  schoolemaister. 
So  till  to  morrow  twentie  times  farewell. 

Yong  Ar.  I  double  all  your  farewels  twentie  fold. 
1345       Ans.  O  this  acquaintance  was  well  scrapte  of  me, 

By 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [43] 

By  this  my  Loue  to  morrow  I  shall  see.      Exit. 
Ami.  This  poyson  shall  by  force  expell, 

Amor  em  loue,  Infernum  hell. 

Per  hoc  venenum  ego  /, 
i35o  For  my  sweet  louely  Lasse  will  die. 

Yon.Ar.  What  do  I  hear  of  poison, which  sweet 

Must  make  me  a  braue  frolick  widower  ?    (means 

It  seemes  the  doting  foole  being  forlorne 

Hath  got  some  compound  mixture,  in  dispaire 
1355  To  end  his  desperate  fortunes  and  his  life  : 

He  get  it  from  him, and  with  this  make  way 

To  my  wiues  night,and  to  my  Loues  faire  day. 
Ami.  In  nomine  domine, friends  farewell  : 

I  know  death  comes  here's  such  a  smell. 
i36o  Pater  &  mater,father  and  mother, 

Prater  &soror,  sister  and  brother, 

And  my  sweet  Man',  not  these  drugges, 

Do  send  me  to  the  Infernall  bugges, 

But  thy  vnkindnesse,so  adieu, 
i365  Hob-goblins  now  I  come  to  you. 

Yon.Ar.  Hold  man  I  say,  what  wil  the  mad  man  do  ? 

1  haue  I  got  thee,  thou  shalt  goe  with  me  : 

No  more  of  that,  fie  Sir  Minadab 

Destroy  your  selfe  :  If  I  but  heare  hereafter 
1370  You  practice  such  reuenge  vpon  your  selfe, 

All  your  friends  shall  know  that  for  a  wench, 

A  paltry  wench, you  would  haue  kild  your  selfe. 
Ami.  O  iace  qtteso,  do  not  name 

This  frantick  deed  of  mine  for  shame  : 

My  sweet  magister  not  a  word, 

He  neither  drowne  me  in  a  ford 

Nor  giue  my  necke  such  a  scope, 

To  imbrace  it  with  a  hempen  rope  : 

He  die  no  way  till  nature  will  me, 

F    2  And 


[44]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

i38o  And  death  come  with  his  dart  and  kill  me. 

If  what  is  past  you  will  conceale, 

And  nothing  to  the  world  reueale, 

Nay  as  Quintillian  said  of  yore, 

He  striue  to  kill  my  selfe  no  more. 
1 385        Yong  Ar.  On  that  condition  He  conceale  this 

To  morow  pray  come  and  dine  with  me:  (deed, 

For  I  haue  many  strangers, mongst  the  rest, 

Some  are  desirous  of  your  company. 

You  will  not  faile  me  ? 
i3go       Ami.  No  in  sooth,  He  try  the  sharpnes  of  my 

In  steed  of  poyson,  I  will  eate  (tooth, 

Rabets,  Capons, and  such  meate  : 

And  so  as  Pithagoras  saies, 

With  wholesome  fare  prolong  my  dales. 
i3g5  But  Sir  will  Mistris  Mall  be  there? 

Yon.  Ar.  She  shall, she  shall  man  neuer  feare. 
Ami.  Then  my  spirit  becomes  stronger, 

And  I  will  Hue  and  stretch  longer  : 

For  Quid  said, and  did  not  lie, 
1400  That  poysoned  men  do  often  die. 

But  poyson  henceforth  lie  not  eate, 

Whilst  I  can  other  victualls  get : 

To  morow  if  you  make  a  feast, 

Be  sure  sir  I  will  be  your  guest. 
1405  But  keep  my  counsell,  vale  tut 

And  till  to  morow  sir  adieu  : 

At  your  Table  /  will  proue 

If  /  can  eate  away  my  loue  Exit. 

Yon.Ar.  O  /  am  glad  /  haue  thee,now  deuise 
1410  A  way  how  to  bestow  it  cunningly: 

It  shall  be  thus  :  to  morow  He  pretend 

A  recocilement  twixt  my  wife  and  me. 

And  to  that  end  I  will  inuite  thus  many  : 

First 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad. 

First  Justice  Reason,  as  the  chiefe  man  there. 
1415  My  Father  Arther,o\d  Lusam,yong  Lusam,M. 

And  M.  Anselme  I  haue  bid  alreadie.        (Fuller, 

Then  will  /  haue  my  louely  Mary  too, 

Be  it  but  to  spight  my  wife  before  she  die  : 

For  die  she  shall  before  to  morrow  night. 
1420  The  operation  of  this  poyson  is 

Not  suddenly  to  kill,they  that  take  it 

Fall  in  a  sleepe,and  then  tis  past  recure, 

And  this  will  /  put  in  her  Cup  to  morrow. 

Enter  Pipkin  running. 
14^5       Pip.  This  tis  to  haue  such  a  Maister,/  haue  sought  him 

at  the  Change,  at  the  schoole,at  euery  place, but  /  cannot 

finde  him  no  where.  O  cry  mercy,  my  Mistris  would  in- 

treat  you  to  come  home. 

Yon.Ar.  I  cannot  come  to  night,  some  vrgent  busines 
1480  Will  all  this  night  imploy  me  otherwise. 

Pip.   I  beleeue  my  Mistresse  would  con  you  as  much 

thanke  to  do  that  businesse  at  home  as  abroad. 

Yon.Ar.  Here  take  my  purse,  and  bid  my  wife  prouide 

Good  cheare  against  to  morrow, there  will  be 
1^35  Two  or  three  strangers  of  my  late  acquaintance. 

Sirra  goe  you  to  Justice  Reasons  house, 

Inuite  him  first  with  all  solemnitie. 

Goe  to  rny  Fathers, and  my  Father  in  lawes, 

Here  take  this  note. 
1440  The  rest  that  come  I  will  inuite  my  selfe, 

About  it  with  what  quick  dispatch  thou  canst. 

Pip.  I  warrant  you  Maister  He  dispatch  this  businesse 

with  more  honestie,  then  youle  dispatch  yours.  But  Mai 
ster  will  the  gentlewoman  be  there  ? 
1445        Yong  Ar.  What  gentlewoman  ? 

Pip.  The  gentlewoman  of  the  old  house, that  is  as  wel 

knowne  by  the  colour  shee  laies  of  her  chees,  as  an  Ale- 

F    3  house 


[46]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

house  by  the  painting  is  laid  of  his  Lettice  :  she  that  is  like 
Homo,   Common  to  all  men  :  she  that  is  beholding  to  no 

1450  Trade,  but  Hues  of  her  selfe. 

Yon.Ar.  Sirra  be  gone, or  I  will  send  you  hence. 
Pip.  lie  go, but  by  this  hand  He  tell  my  Mistris  as  soone 
as  I  come  home,that  Mistris  light-heeles  comes  to  dinner 
to  morrow. 

1455        Yon.  Ar.  Sweet  Mistris  Mary  He  inuite  my  selfe  : 
And  there  He  frolick,sup,and  spend  the  night. 
My  Plot  is  currant, here  tis  in  my  hand 
Will  make  me  happie  in  my  second  choyce, 
And  I  may  freely  chalenge  as  mine  owne, 

1460  What  I  am  now  infore't  to  seeke  by  stealth. 
Loue  is  not  much  vnlike  Ambition, 
For  in  them  both  all  lets  must  be  remoued 
Twixt  euery  Crowne  &  him  that  would  aspire, 
And  he  that  will  attempt  to  winne  the  same, 

1465  Must  plundge  vp  to  the  depth  ore  head  &  eares, 
And  hazard  drowning  in  that  purple  sea. 
So  he  that  loues,  must  needs  through  blood  and  fire, 
And  do  all  things  to  compasse  his  desire 

Enter  Mistris  Arthur  and  her  Mayde. 

1470       Mis.Ar.  Come  spread  the  Table  :  Is  the  hall  well  rubd, 
The  cushions  in  the  windowes  neatly  laid, 
The  Cupboord  of  plate  set  out,  the  Casements  stuck 
With  Rosemary  and  Flowers, the  Carpets  brusht  ? 
Mayd.  I  forsooth  Mistris. 

1475  Mis.  Looke  to  the  kitchen  Mayd,  and  bid  the  Cooke 
take  downe  the  Ouen  stone,  the  pies  be  burnt  :  here  take 
my  keyes  and  giue  him  out  more  spice. 

Mayd.  Yes  forsooth  Mistris.  (cloth, 

Mis.Ar.  Where's  that  knaue  Pipkin,  bid  him  spred  the 

1480  Fetch  the  cleane  diaper  napkins  from  my  chest, 
Set  out  the  guilded  salt, and  bid  the  fellow 

Make 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [47] 

Make  himselfe  handsome,  get  him  a  cleane  band. 

Mayd.  Indeed  forsooth  Mistris  he  is  such  a  slouen 
That  nothing  will  sit  handsome  about  him, 
1485  He  had  a  pound  of  sope  to  scowre  his  face, 

And  yet  his  brow  lookes  like  the  chimney  stocke. 

Mis.Ar.  Heele  be  a  slouen  stil  :  Mayd  take  this  Apron, 
And  bring  me  one  of  Linnen,  quickly  Mayd. 

Mayd.  I  goe  forsooth  (Exit  Mayd. 

1490       Mis.Ar.  There  was  a  curtsie,let  me  see't  againe. 
I  that  was  well. I  feare  my  guests  will  come 
Ere  we  be  readie,  what  a  spight  is  this. 
Within.  Mistresse. 
Mis.Ar.  What's  the  matter  ? 

1495        Within.  Mistris  I  pray  take  Pipkin  from  the  fire. 
We  cannot  keepe  his  fingers  from  the  rost. 

Mis.Ar.  Bid  him  come  hither,  what  a  knaue  is  that. 
Fie, fie,  neuer  out  of  the  kitchin, 
Still  broyling  by  the  fire. 
i5co  Enter  Pipkin. 

Pip.  I  hope  you  will  not  take  Pipkin  from  the  fire 
Till  the  broath  be  inough. 

Enter  Mayd  with  an  Apron. 

Mis.Ar.  Well  sirra  get  a  Napkin  and  a  Trencher 
i5o5  And  wait  to  day.  So  let  me  see  my  Apron. 

Pip.  Mistris  I  can  tell  ye  one  thing,my  M.  wench 
Will  come  home  to  day  to  dinner. 

Enter  Justice  Reason  and  his  man. 
Mis.Ar.  She  shall  be  welcome  if  she  be  his  guest. 
i5io  But  heer's  some  of  our  guests  are  come  alreadie, 

A  Chaire  for  Justice  Reason  firra.  (huswife, 

lust.  Good  morrow  Mistris  Arthur,  you  are  like  a  good 
At  your  request  I  am  come  home,  what  a  Chaire  ! 
Thus  age  seekes  ease  :  where  is  your  husband  Mistris  ? 
i5i5  What  a  cushion  too  ! 

Pip. 


[48]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Pip.  1  pray  you  ease  your  taile  Sir. 
lust.  Mary  and  will  good  fellow, twentie  thankes. 
Pip .M. Hue  as  welcom  as  hart  can  tel,or  long  can  think. 
Hu.  I  thank  you  M. Pipkin ,/  haue  got  many  a  good  dish 
1620  of  broth  by  your  meanes. 

Pip.  According  to  the  aunciet  Curtesie  you  are  wel 
come  :  according  to  the  time  and  place,  you  are  hartily 
welcome  :  when  they  are  busied  at  the  boord,  we  wil  find 
our  selues  busied  in  the  Buttrie:  and  so  sweet  Hugh  accor- 
i525  ding  to  our  schollers  phrase, Gratulor  aduentutn  tuum. 

Hu.  I  wil  answer  you  with  the  like  sweet  Pipkin  tgt alias. 
Pip.  As  much  grace  as  you  will,  but  as  little  of  it  as  you 
can  good  Hugh.But  here  comes  more  guests. 
Enter  old  Arthur,  and  old  Lusam. 
i53o       Mis. Ar.  More  stooles  &  cushions  for  these  gentlemen. 

Old  Ar.  What  M. Justice  Reason ,are  you  here  ? 
Who  would  haue  thought  to  haue  met  you  in  this  place  ? 

Old  Lu.  What  say  mine  eyes,is  Justice  Reason  here  ? 
Mountaines  may  meet, and  so  /  see  may  wee. 
i535       lust.  Well  when  men  meete  they  meete, 

And  when  they  part,  they  oft  leaue  one  anothers  compa- 
So  we  being  met, are  met.  fny  : 

Old  Lu.  Truly  you  say  true  : 
And  M.  Justice  Reason  speakes  but  reason. 
1640  To  heare  how  wisely  men  of  lawe  will  speake. 

Enter  Anselme  and  Fuller. 
Ans.  Good  morrow  gentlemen. 
Mis.Ar.  What  are  you  there  ?  (all. 

An.  Good  morrow  Mistris,and  good  morow 
1645       lust.  If/  may  be  so  bold  in  a  strange  place, 
I  say  good  morrow,and  as  much  to  you. 
/  pray  gentlemen  will  you  sit  downe  ? 
We  haue  bene  yong  like  you,  and  if  you  Hue 
Vnto  our  age,you  will  be  old  like  vs. 

Ful. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [49] 

i55o       Fid.  Be  rul'd  by  reason, but  whose  here? 

Enter  Aminadab. 
Ami.  Saluete  0m#££,and  good  day 
To  all  at  once, as  I  may  say. 
First  Maister  Iustice,next  old  Arthur, 
i555  That  giues  me  pension  by  the  quarter  : 
To  my  good  Mistresse,and  the  rest, 
That  are  the  founders  of  this  feast. 
In  briefe  I  speake  to  omnes  all, 
That  to  their  meate  intend  to  fall. 
i5oo       lust.  Welcome  Syr  Aminadab,6  my  sonne 
Hath  profited  exceeding  well  with  you, 
Sit  downe,sit  downe.by  Mistris  Arthurs  leaue. 
Enter  young  Arthur,  young  Lusam ,  and 

Mistresse  Marie. 

i565        Yon.Ar.  Gentlemen, welcome  all,wmTst  I  deliuer 
Their  priuate  welcomes, Wife  be  it  your  charge, 
To  giue  this  Gentlewoman  entertainment. 

Mis.Ar.  Husband,/  will :  6  this  is  she  vsurpes 
The  precious  interest  of  my  Husbands  loue  : 
1670  Though  as  /  am  a  woman,!  could  well 

Thrust  such  a  leaud  companion  out  oi  doores, 
Yet  as  /  am  a  true  obedient  Wife, 
7de  kisse  her  feete  to  do  my  Husbands  will. 
You  are  intirely  welcome  Gentlewoman, 

i575  Indeed  you  are, pray  do  not  doubt,  of  it.  (nestie, 

Mary.  I  thank  you  Mistris  Ar///wr,now  by  my  litle  ho 
lt  much  repents  me  to  wrong  so  chaste  a  woman. 

Yon.Ar.  Gentles, put  ore  your  legges,  first  M.  lustice, 
Here  you  shall  sit. 
i58o       lust.  And  here  shall  mistris  Arthur  sit  by  me. 

Yon.Ar.  Pardon  me  sir, she  shall  haue  my  wiles  place. 
Mis.Ar.  Indeed  you  shall, for  he  will  haue  it  so. 
Mary.  If  you  will  needs,  but  I  shall  doo  you  wrong  to 
take  your  place.  G  Old  Lu. 


[5o]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

i585       Old  Lu.  I  by  my  faith  you  should. 

Mis.Ar.  That  is  no  wrong  which  we  impute  no  wrog, 
/  pray  you  sit. 

Yong  Ar.  Gentlemen  all,  /  pray  you  seate  your  selues: 
What  sir  Aminadab,  I  know  where  your  hart  is. 
i5go       Ami.  Mum  not  a  word,  Pax  vobis,  peace  : 
Come  gentiles  /le  be  of  this  messe. 
Yong  Ar.  So,  who  giues  thankes  ? 
Ami.  Sir  that  will /. 

Yong  Ar.  I  pray  you  too  it  by  and  by,  where's 
l5g5  Wait  at  the  boord,let  M. Reasons  man         (Pipkin, 
Be  had  into  the  buttry,but  first  giue  him 
A  napkin  and  a  trencher.  Well  said  Hugh, 
Wait  at  your  Maisters  elbow, now  say  grace. 

Ami.  Gloria  deo, sirs  prof  ace, 
1600  Attend  me  now  whilst  /  say  grace. 

For  bread  and  salt,  for  grapes  and  malt, 
For  flesh  and  fish, and  euery  dish  : 
Mutton  and  beefe,  of  all  meates  cheefe  : 
For  Cow-heels,  chitterlings,  tripes  and  sowse, 
i6o5  And  other  meate  thats  in  the  house  : 

For  racks,  for  brests,  for  legges,for  loines, 
For  pies  with  raisons,and  with  proines: 
For  fritters, pancakes, and  for  frayes, 
For  venison  pasties  and  minct  pies  : 
1610  Sheephead  and  garlick,  brawne  and  mustard, 
Wafers,  spiced  cakes,  tart  and  custard, 
For  capons,rabets,pigges  and  geese, 
For  apples, carawaies  and  cheese  : 
For  all  these  and  many  moe, 
i6i5  Benidicanus  domino. 
All.  Amen. 

lust.  I  con  you  thankes, but  sir  A  win  ad  ab, 
Is  that  your  scholler  ?  now  /  promise  you 

He 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [5i] 

He  is  a  toward  stripling  of  his  age. 

1620     Pip.  Who  7  forsooth,  yes  indeed  forsooth  /  am  his  schol- 
ler,  /  would  you  should  well  thinke  /  haue  profited  vnder 
him  too,  you  shall  heare  if  he  will  pose  me. 
Old  AT.  I  pray  you  lets  heare  him. 
Ami.  Hue  ades  Pipkin. 
1626       Adsum. 

Ami.  Quot  Casus  stint,  how  many  Cases  are  there? 
Pip.  Mary  a  great  many. 

Ami.  Well  answered  a  great  many, there  are  sixe, 
Sixe  a  great  many,tis  well  answered, 
i63o  And  which  be  they  ? 

Pip.  A  Bow-case,  a  Cap-case,  a  Combe-case,  a  Lute- 
case,  a  Fidle-case,and  a  Candle-case. 

hist:  /know  them  all,  againe  well  answered  : 
Pray  God  my  yongest  boy  profit  no  worse. 
i635       An.  How  many  parsons  are  there  ? 

Pip.  71e  tell  you  as  many  as  I  know, if  youle  giue  me 
leaue  to  reckon  them. 
Ansel,  /prethee  doo. 

Pip.  The  Parson  of  Fanchurch,  the  Parson  ofPancridge, 
1640  and  the  Parson  of. 

Yong  AT.  Well  sir  about  your  businesse  :  now  will  / 
Temper  the  Cup  my  loathed  wife  shall  drinke  :          Exit. 
Old  AT.  Daughter  me  thinkes  you  are  exceeding  sad  : 
Old  Lu.  Faith  daughter  so  thou  art  exceeding  sad: 
1646       M is:  Ar:  Tis  but  my  countenance,  for  my  hart  is  mery, 
Mistris  were  you  as  merie  as  you  are  welcome, 
You  should  not  sit  so  sadlie  as  you  do. 

Ma:  Tis  but  because  /  am  seated  in  your  place, 
Which  is  frequented  seldome  with  true  mirth. 
i65o       Mis:Ar.  The  fault  is  neither  in  the  place  nor  me. 

Ami.  How  say  you  Ladie  to  him  you  last  did  lie  by 
All  this  is  no  more  prebibo  tibi. 

G    2 


[52]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Mary.  I  thanke  you  sir,Mistris  this  draught  shall  be 
To  him  that  loues  both  you  and  me. 
i655       Mist.Ar.  I  know  your  meaning. 

Ans.  Now  to  me  ; 
If  she  haue  either  loue  or  charitie. 

Mis.Ar.  Heare  M.  Justice, this  to  your  graue  yeares, 
A  mournfull  draught  God  wot,halfe  wine, halfe  teares, 
1660       lust.  Let  come  my  wench,  here  youngsters,  to  you  all, 
You  are  silent, here's  that  will  make  you  talke. 
Wenches,me  thinke  you  sit  like  Puritants, 
Neuer  a  leaft  abroad  to  make  them  laugh? 

Ful.  Sir, since  you  moue  speech  of  a  Puritant, 
1665  If  you  will  giue  me  audience  I  will  tell  ye 
As  good  a  /east  as  euer  you  did  heare. 
Old.Ar.  A  Ieast,thats  excellent. 
lust.  Before  hand  lets  prepare  our  selues  to  laugh, 
A  least  is  nothing  if  it  be  not  grac'd  : 
1670  Now, now,/  pray  you  when  begins  this  least? 

Ful.  I  came  vnto  a  Puritant  to  wooe  her, 
And  roughly  did  salute  her  with  a  kisse  : 
Away  quoth  she,and  rudely  pusht  me  fro  her, 
Brother, by  yea  and  nay  I  like  not  this, 
1675  And  still  with  amorous  talke  she  was  saluted, 
My  artlesse  speech  with  scripture  was  confuted. 

Old  Lu.  Good, good  indeed,  the  best  that  ere  I  heard. 
Old  Ar.  I  promise  you  it  was  exceeding  good. 
Ful.  Oft/ frequented  her  abroad  by  night, 
1680  And  courted  her,  and  spake  her  wondrous  faire, 
But  euer  somewhat  did  offend  her  sight, 
Either  my  double  ruffe,  or  my  long  hayre  : 
My  skarfe  was  vain,  my  garments  hung  too  low, 
My  Spanish  shooe  was  cut  too  broad  at  toe. 
i685       All.  Ha,ha,  the  best  that  euer  I  heard. 

Ful.  I  parted  for  that  time, and  came  againe, 

Seeming 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [53] 

Seeming  to  be  conformd  in  looke  and  speech, 
My  shooes  were  sharpe  toed, and  my  band  was  plaine, 
1690  Close  to  my  thigh  my  metamorphis'd  breech  : 

My  cloake  was  narrow  Capte,my  haire  cut  shorter, 
Off  went  my  Skarfe,thus  marcht  I  to  the  Porter. 
All.  Ha,ha,was  euer  heard  the  like? 
Ful.  The  Porter  spying  me, did  lead  me  in, 
i6g5  Where  his  faire  mistris  sat  reading  on  a  chapter:  f 
Peace  to  this  house  quoth  I, and  those  within, 
Which  holy  speech  with  admiration  wrapt  her, 
And  euer  as  /  spake, and  came  her  nie, 
Seeming  diuine,  turnd  vp  the  white  of  eye. 
1700       lust.  So, so, what  then, what  then? 

Old  Lu.  Forward,!  pray  forward  sir. 
Ful.  I  spake  diuinely,and  I  call'd  her  sister, 
And  by  this  meanes  we  were  acquainted  well  : 
By  yea  and  nay,/  will  quoth  /,and  kist  her, 
1705  She  blusht  &  said  that  long  tongu'd  men  would 
/  seem'd  to  be  as  secret  as  the  night,  (tell, 

And  said, on  sooth  /would  put  out  the  light. 

Old  Ar.  In  sooth  he  would, a  passing  passing  /east. 
Ful.  O  do  not  sweare  quoth  she,yet  put  it  out, 
1710  Because  /  would  not  haue  you  breake  your  oath. 
/  felt  a  bed  there  as  /  groapt  about, 
In  troath  quoth  /,here  will  we  rest  vs  both. 
Sweare  you  in  troth  quoth  she, had  you  not  sworne 
/had  not  don't,  but  tooke  it  in  foule  scorne, 
I7i5  Then  you  will  come  quoth  / ;  though  /  be  loath, 
/le  come  quoth  she,be  it  but  to  keepe  your  oath. 
lust.  Tis  verie  pretie,but  now  whens  the  /east? 
Old  Ar.  O  forward  to  the  /east  in  any  case. 
OldLu.  /would  not  for  angell  loose  the  /east. 
1720       Ful.  Heres  right  the  dunghil  Cock  that  finds  a  pearle, 
To  talke  of  wit  to  these, is  as  a  man 

G    3  Should 


[64]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Should  cast  out  lewels  to  a  heard  of  swine, 
Why  in  the  last  words  did  consist  the  least. 

Old  Lus.  I, in  the  last  words?  ha,ha,ha, 
1726  It  was  an  excellent  admired  ieast, 
To  them  that  vnderstood  it. 

Enter  young  Arthur  ,with  a  Cup  oj  Wine. 
lust.  It  was  indeed, /must  for  fashions  sake 
Say  as  they  say,but  otherwise,  6  God. 
1730  Good  M.  Arthur  thankes  for  our  good  cheare. 

Yon.  Ar.  Gentleme,  welcome  all,  now  heare  me  speak  ; 
One  speciall  cause  that  mou'd  me  lead  you  hither, 
Is  for  auncient  grudge  that  hath  long  since 
Continued  twixt  my  modest  wife  and  me, 
1735  The  wrongs  that  I  haue  done  her, I  recant. 
In  either  hand  I  hold  a  seuerall  Cup, 
This  in  the  right  hand,Wife  I  drinke  to  thee, 
This  in  the  left  hand  pledge  me  in  this  draught, 
Burying  all  former  hatred, so  haue  to  thee.        He  drinkes. 
1740  Mis.hr.  The  welcom'st  pledge  that  yet  I  euer  tooke  : 
Were  this  wine  poyson,or  did  taste  like  gall, 
The  honey  sweet  condition  of  your  draught, 
Would  make  it  drinke  like  Nectar,!  will  pledge  you, 
Were  it  the  last  that  I  should  euer  drinke. 

1745        Yon.hr.  Make  that  account ;  thus  Gentlemen  you  see, 
Our  late  discord  brought  to  a  vnitie. 

Ami.  Ecce  quam  bonum  &  quam  iucundum, 
Est  habitare  featres  in  vnum. 

Old  Ar.  My  heart  doth  tast  the  sweetnes  of  your  pledge, 
1750  And  I  am  glad  to  see  this  sweete  accord. 

Old  Lus.  Glad  quotha, theres  not  one  amongst  vs, 
But  may  be  exceeding  glad. 

lust.  I  am, I  marrie  am  I, that  I  am. 
Yon.Luf.  The  best  accord  that  could  betide  their  loues. 
1755       Ans.  The  worst  accord  that  could  betide  my  loue. 

Ami. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [55  J 

A II  about  to  rise. 

Ami.  What  rising  Gentles, keep  your  places, 
He  close  vp  your  stomackes  with  a  grace. 

0  Domine  &  Chareputer, 

1760  That  giu'st  vs  wine  in  stead  of  water, 
And  from  the  Pond  and  Riuer  cleere, 
Mak'st  nappie  Ale  and  good  March  Beere, 
That  send'st  vs  sundry  sorts  of  meate 
And  euery  thing  we  drinke  or  eate, 
1765  To  maides,to  wiues,to  boyes,to  men, 
Laus  Deo  sancte  Amen. 

Yon.Ar.  So  much  good  do  ye  all, and  Gentlemen, 
Accept  your  welcomes  better  then  your  cheare. 

Old  Lus.  Nay  so  we  doo,Ile  giue  you  thankes  for  all. 
1770  Come  M.  Justice  ,you  do  walke  our  way, 
And  M.  Arthur,  and  old  Hugh  your  man, 
Weele  be  the  first  will  straine  curtesie. 
lust.  God  be  with  you  all. 

Exeunt  old  Arthur, Lusam,&  lustice. 
1775       A  mi.  Propimus  ego  sum,I\e  be  the  next, 
And  man  you  home, how  say  you  Lady  ? 
Yon.Ar.  I  pray  you  do, good  sir  Aminadab. 
Mary.  Syr, if  it  be  not  too  much  trouble  to  you, 
Let  me  intreat  that  kindnesse  at  your  hands. 
1780       Amina.    Intreat, fie, no  sweete  Lasse  commaund. 
Sic  so  nunc,  now  take  the  vpper  hand. 

Hee  mans  her  away. 
Yon.Ar.  Come  wife,  this  meeting  was  all  for  our  sakes, 

1  long  to  see  the  force  my  poyson  takes. 

1785      Mis.Ar.  My  deare,deare  husband,  in  exchange  of  hate, 
My  loue  and  heart  shall  on  your  service  waite. 

Exeunt  Arthur  his  Wife. 

Ans.  So  doth  wy  loue  on  thee,but  long  no  more, 
To  her  rich  loue, thy  seruice  is  too  poore, 

Ful. 


[56]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

1790       Ful.  For  shame  no  more, you  had  best  expostulate 
Your  loue  with  euery  straunger,leaue  these  sighes, 
And  chaunge  them  to  familiar  conference. 

Yon.Lus.  Trust  me  the  vertues  of  young  Arthurs  wife, 
Her  constancie, modest  humilitie, 
I7g5  Her  patience, and  admired  temperance, 

Haue  made  me  loue  all  women  kinde  the  better. 

Enter  Pipkin. 
Pip.  O  my  mistris,my  mistris,  shees  dead,  shees  gone, 

shees  dead, shees  gone. 

1800       Ans.  What's  that  he  sayes?  (is  fled, 

Pip.  Out  of  my  Way,stand  back  I  say, all  ioy  from  earth 
She  is  this  day  as  cold  as  clay,my  Mistris  she  is  dead: 
O  Lord, my  mistris, my  mistris.  Exit. 

Ans.  What  mistris  Arthur  dead? my  soule  is  vanisht, 
i8o5  And  the  worlds  wonder  from  the  world  quite  banisht  : 
O  /  am  sicke.my  paine  growes  worse  and  worse, 
/  am  quite  strooke  thorow  with  this  late  discourse. 

Ful.  What  faints  thou  ma?/le  lead  thee  hence  for  shame, 
Sound  at  the  tydings  of  a  womans  death? 
1810  7ntollerable,and  beyond  all  thought, 

Come  my  loues  foole,giue  me  thy  hand  to  lead, 

This  day  one  body  and  two  hearts  are  dead.          Exeunt. 

YongLus.  But  now  she  was  as  well  as  well  might  be, 
And  on  the  sudden  dead;  ioy  in  excesse 
i8i5  Hath  ouerrunne  her  poore  disturbed  soule. 
71e  after  and  see  how  Master  Arthur  takes  it. 
His  former  hate  far  more  suspitious  makes  it.        Exit. 

Enter  Hugh. 

Hu.  My  M.  hath  left  his  gloues  behind  where  he  sat  in 
1820  his  chaire,and  hath  sent  me  to  fetch  them, it  is  such  an  old 
snudge,he  will  not  loose  the  dropping  of  his  nose. 

Enter  Pipkin. 

Pip.  O  Mistris,  6  Hugh,  6  Hugh,  6  Mistris,  Hugh  I  must 

needs 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [67] 

needs  beate  thee,I  am  mad, lam  lunatike,!  must  fall  vpon 
1825  thee,my  Mistris  is  dead. 

Hu.  O  M.  Pipkin,  what  do  you  meane,  what  do  you 
meane  M.  Pipkin: 

Pip.  O  Hue,6  Mistris,6  Mistris,6  Hue. 
Hu.  O  Pipkin,  6  God,  6  God,  6  Pipkin. 

i83o       Pip.  O  Hue, I  am  mad,  beare  with  me,  I  cannot  chuse, 
6  death, 6  Mistris, oMistris, 6  death.  Exit. 

Hu.  Death  quotha, he  hath  almost  made  me  dead  with 
beating. 

Enter  Reason, old  Arthur, and  old  'Lusam. 
i835       lust.  I  wonder  why  the  knaue  my  man  stayes  thus, 
And  comes  not  backe,see  where  the  villaine  loyters. 

Enter  Pipkin. 

Bra.  O  M.  lustice,  M.  Arthur,  M.  'Lusam,  wonder  not 
why  I  thus  blow  and  bluster,  my  Mistris  is  dead,  dead  is 
1840  my  Mistris,  and  therefore  hang  your  selues,6  my  Mistris, 
my  Mistris.  Exit. 

Old  Ar.  My  sonnes  wife  dead? 
Old  *Lus.  My  daughter. 

Enter  young  Arthur  mourning. 
1845       lust.  Mistris  Arthur ', ^here  comes  her  husband. 

Yong  Ar.  O  here  the  wofuls  husband  comes  aliue, 
No  husband  now,the  wight  that  did  vphold 
That  name  of  husband  is  now  quite  orethrowne, 
And  I  am  left  a  haplesse  Widower. 
i85o       Old  Ar.  Faine  would  I  speake,if  griele  would  suffer  me. 

Old  Lus.  AS  Maister  Arthur  sayes,so  say  I, 
If  griefe  would  let  me,  I  would  weeping  die, 
To  be  thus  haplesse  in  my  aged  yeares, 
O  I  would  speake,but  my  words  melt  to  teares. 
1855        Yong  Ar.  Go  in, go  in, and  view  the  sweetest  Course 
That  ere  was  laid  vpon  a  mournfull  roome, 
You  cannot  speake  for  weeping  sorrowes  doome. 

H  Bad 


[58]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Badnewes  are  rife, good  tidings  sildorne  come.      Exeunt. 

Enter  Anselme. 

1860       An.  What  frantike  humor  doth  thus  haunt  my  sence, 
Striuing  to  breed  destruction  in  my  spirit? 
When  I  would  sleepe,the  ghost  of  my  sweete  loue, 
Appeares  vnto  me  in  an  Angels  shape, 
When  I  am  wake,my  phantasie  presents 
1865  AS  in  a  glasse,the  shadow  of  my  loue: 

When  I  would  speake,  her  name  intrudes  it  selfe 
Into  the  perfect  ecchoes  of  my  speech. 
And  though  my  thought  beget  some  other  word, 
Yet  will  my  tongue  speake  nothing  but  her  name  : 
1870  If  I  do  meditate  it  is  on  her, 

If  dreame  on  her, or  if  discourse  on  her, 

I  thinke  her  ghost  doth  haunt  me, as  in  times 

Of  former  darknesse  old  wiues  tales  report, 

Enter  Fuller. 

1875  Here  comes  my  bitter  Genius, whose  aduice 
Directs  me  still  in  all  my  actions. 
How  now,  from  whence  come  you? 

Ful.  Faith  from  the  street,in  which  as  I  past  by, 
I  met  the  modest  Mistris  Arthurs  Course  : 
1880  And  after  her  as  mourners,first  her  husband, 
Next  lustice  Reason,then  old  M.  Arthur, 
Old  M.  Lusam,and  young  Lusam  too, 
With  many  other  kinsfolks,  neighbours,  friends, 
And  others  that  lament  her  Funerall, 
i885  Her  bodie  is  by  this  laid  in  the  vault. 

Ans.  And  in  that  vault  my  bodie  I  will  lay, 
I  prithee  leaue  me, thither  is  my  way. 

Ful.  I  am  sure  you  ieast,you  meane  not  as  you  say. 
Ans.  No,  no,  He  but  go  to  the  Church  and  pray. 
1890       Ful.  Nay  then  we  shall  be  troubled  with  your  humor. 
Ans.  As  euer  thou  didst  loue  me,  or  as  euer 

Thou 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  Jrom  a  bad.  [5g] 

Thou  didst  delight  in  my  societie, 

By  all  the  rights  of  friendship,  and  of  loue, 

Let  me  intreat  thy  absence  but  one  houre, 
1800  And  at  the  houres  end  I  will  come  to  thee. 

FuL  Nay  if  you  wil  be  foolish, and  past  reason, 

He  wash  my  hands  like  Pilate  Jrom  thy  follie, 

And  suffer  thee  in  these  extremities. 

Exit. 
1900       Ans.  Now  it  is  night, &  the  bright  lamps  of  heauen 

Are  halfe  burnt  out,now  bright  Adelbora 

Welcomes  the  cheerefull  Day-star  to  the  Fast, 

And  harmlesse  stilnesse  hath  possest  the  world. 

This  is  the  Church,  this  hollow  is  the  Vault, 
igo5  Where  the  dead  bodie  of  my  Saint  remaines, 

And  this  the  Coffin  that  inshrines  her  bodie, 

For  her  bright  soule  is  now  in  paradice. 

My  comming  is  with  no  intent  of  sinne, 

Or  to  defile  the  bodie  of  the  dead, 
1910  But  rather  take  my  last  farewell  of  her, 

Or  languishing  and  dying  by  her  side. 

My  ayrie  soule  post  after  hers  to  heauen, 

First  with  this  latest  kisse  I  scale  my  loue. 

Her  lips  are  warme,and  /  am  much  deceiu'd 
igi5  If  that  she  stirre  not :  6  this  Golgotha, 

This  place  of  dead  mens  bones  is  terrible, 

Presenting  fearfull  apparitions. 

Mistresse  Arthur  in  the  Tombe. 

/t  is  some  spirit  that  in  the  Coffin  lies, 
1920  And  makes  my  haire  start  vp  an  end  with  feare, 

Come  to  thy  selfe  faint  heart, she  sits  vpright, 

O  /  would  hide  me,but  /  know  not  where  ; 

Tush  if  it  be  a  spirit, tis  a  good  spirit, 

For  with  her  bodie  liuing,  ill  she  knew  not. 
IQ25  And  with  her  bodie  dead, ill  cannot  meddle. 

H    2  Mis.Ar. 


[60]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Mis.  Ar.  Who  am  I?  or  where  am  II 

Ans.  O  she  speakes,and  by  her  language  now  /  know 

she  Hues. 

Mi  Ar.  O  who  can  tell  me  where  /  am  become? 
ig3o  For  in  this  darknes  I  haue  lost  my  selfe, 
/  am  not  dead, for  I  haue  sence  and  life, 
How  come  /  then  in  this  Coffin  buried? 

Ans.  Anselme  be  bold  she  Hues, and  Destinie 
Hath  traind  thee  hither  to  redeeme  her  life. 
ig35     Mis.Ar.  Liues  any  mongst  these  dead?none  but  my  self. 

Ans.  O  yes, a  man  whose  heart  till  now  was  dead, 
Liues  and  suruiues  at  your  returne  to  life  : 
Nay  start  not,/  am  Anselme,  one  who  long 
Hath  doted  on  your  faire  perfection, 
1940  And  louing  you  more  then  became  me  well, 
Was  hither  sent  by  some  strange  prouidence, 
To  bring  you  from  these  hollow  vaults  below, 
To  be  a  liuer  in  the  world  againe. 

Mis.Ar.  /vnderstand  you, and  I  thanke  the  heauens, 
1945  That  sent  you  to  reuiue  me  from  this  feare, 
And  I  embrace  my  safetie  with  good  will. 

Enter  Aminadab  with  two  or  three  boyes. 
Ami.  Mane  Citus  lectumjuge  mollem  discute  somnurn, 
Templapetas  supplex  &  venerarum  deum.  fpray, 

1960  Shake  off  thy  sleepe,get  vp  betimes, go  to  the  church  and 
And  neuer  feare, God  wil  thee  heare,&  keepe  thee  all  the 
Good  counsel  boyes, obserue  it,marke  it  well,  (day. 

This  early  rising,  this  diliculo, 
7s  good  both  for  your  bodies  and  your  minds. 
1955  Tis  not  yet  day,giue  me  my  Tinder-box, 

Mean  time  vnloose  your  sachels  &  your  bookes, 
Draw,  draw,and  take  you  to  your  lessons  boyes. 
j.  Boy.  O  Lord  M.  whats  that  in  the  white  sheete? 
Ami.  In  the  white  sheete  my  boy,  Die  vbi,  where? 

Boy, 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [61] 

1960       Boy.   Vide  Maister,wYfe  *'///£  there. 

Ami.  O  Domine,  Domine,  keep  vs  from  euill, 
A  charme  from  flesh, the  world, &  the  diuell. 

Exeunt  running. 
Mis.Ar.  O  tel  me  not  my  husband  was  ingrate, 

ig65  Or  that  he  did  attempt  to  poyson  me, 
Or  that  he  laid  me  here, and  I  was  dead, 
These  are  no  meanes  at  all  to  win  my  loue. 

Ans.  Sweet  Mistris,  he  bequath'd  you  to  the  earth, 
You  promis'd  him  to  be  his  wife  till  death, 

1970  And  you  haue  kept  your  promise, but  now  since 
The  world,your  husbad,&your  friends  suppose 
That  you  are  dead, grant  me  but  one  request, 
And  I  will  sweare  neuer  to  sollicite  more, 
Your  sacred  thoughts  to  my  dishonest  loue. 

1975       Mis.Ar.  So  your  demand  may  be  no  preiudise 
To  my  chast  name, no  wrong  vnto  my  husband, 
No  sute  that  may  concern  my  Wedlock  breach, 
I  yeeld  vnto  it, but  to  passe  the  bands  of  modestie  &  cha- 
First  will  /  bequeath  my  selfe  againe  stitie, 

1980  Vnto  this  graue,and  neuer  part  from  hence, 
Then  taint  my  soule  with  blacke  impuritie. 

An.  Take  here  my  hand  &  faithful  hart  to  gage, 
That  I  will  neuer  tempt  you  more  to  sinne  : 
This  my  request  is, since  your  husband  doates 

1985  Vpon  a  leaud  lasciuious  Curtezan, 

Since  he  hath  broke  the  bands  of  your  chaste  bed, 
And  like  a  murderer  sent  you  to  your  graue, 
Do  but  go  with  me  to  my  mothers  house, 
There  shall  you  Hue  in  secret  for  a  space, 

1990  Onely  to  see  the  end  of  such  leaud  lust, 

And  know  the  difference  of  a  chaste  wifes  bed, 
And  one  whose  life  is  in  all  loosenesse  led. (held, 
Mis.  Ar.  Your  mother  is  a  vertuous  Matron 

H    3  Her 


[62]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Her  counsell, conference, and  companie, 
igg5  May  much  auaile  me, there  a  space  He  stay, 
Vpon  condition  as  you  said  before, 
You  neuer  will  moue  your  vnchaste  sute  more. 

An.  My  faith  is  pawnd,6  neuer  had  chaste  wife, 
A  husband  of  so  leaud  and  vnchast  life.  Exeunt. 

2000  Enter  Marie  Brabo,  and  Splay. 

Bra.  Mistris  I  long  haue  seru'd  you,euen  since 
These  brisled  hayres  vpon  my  graue  like  chin 
Were  all  vnborne  :  when  /  first  came  to  you 
These  Infant  feathers  of  these  rauens  wings, 
2Oo5  Were  not  once  begunne. 

Spl.  No  indeed  they  were  not. 
Bra.  Now  in  my  two  Muchatoes  for  a  need, 
Wanting  a  rope, I  well  could  hang  my  selfe  : 
I  prithee  Mistris, for  all  my  long  seruice, 
2010  For  all  the  loue  that  I  haue  borne  thee  long, 
Do  me  this  fauour  now  to  marry  me. 

Enter  young  Arthur. 

Ma.  Marry  come  vp  you  blockhead, you  great  asse, 
What  wouldst  thou  haue  me  marie  with  a  diuel, 
2Ol5  But  peace, no  more, here  comes  the  silly  foole 
That  we  so  long  haue  set  our  lime-twigs  for, 
Be  gone,  and  leaue  me  to  intangle  him. 
Yong  Ar.  WThat  Mistris  Mary  \ 

Ma.  O  good  maister  Arthur, where  haue  you  bene  this 
2020  weeke,  this  moneth,  this  yeare? 

This  yeare  said  I?  where*haue  you  bene  this  age? 
Vnto  a  Louer  euery  minute  seemes  time  out  of  minde. 
How  should  /  thinke  you  loue  me, 
That  can  indure  to  stay  so  long  from  me? 
2O25        Yong  Ar.  In  faith  sweet  heart  I  saw  thee  yesternight. 

Ma.  I  true, you  did, but  since  you  saw  me  not, 
At  twelue  a  clocke  you  parted  from  my  house, 

And 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [63] 

And  now  tis  morning,and  new  strucken  seuen. 
Seuen  houres  thou  staidst  fro  me,why  didst  thou  so? 
2o3o  They  are  my  seuen  yeares  Prentiship  of  woe. 

Yong  Ar.  I  prithee  be  patient,/  had  some  occasion 
That  did  inforce  me  from  thee  yesternight. 

Ma.  I  you  are  soone  inforc'd,foole  that  I  am, 
To  dote  on  one  that  nought  respecteth  me  : 
2o35  Tis  but  my  fortune,!  am  borne  to  beare  it, 
And  euerie  one  shall  haue  their  destinie. 

Yong  Ar.  Nay  weepe  not  wench, thou  woundst  mee 

with  thy  teares. 

Mary.  I  am  a  foole,and  so  you  make  me  too, 
2040  These  teares  were  better  kept, then  spent  in  waste, 
On  one  that  neither  tenders  them  nor  me  : 
What  remedie,but  if  I  chance  to  die, 
Or  to  miscarrie  with  that  I  go  withall, 
He  take  my  death  that  thou  art  cause  thereof. 
2045  You  told  me,  that  when  your  wife  was  dead, 
You  would  forsake  all  others,  and  take  me. 

Yong  Ar.  I  told  thee  so,&  I  will  keep  my  word, 
And  for  that  end  I  came  thus  early  to  thee  : 
I  haue  procur'd  a  licence,  and  this  night 
2o5o  We  will  be  married  in  a  lawlesse  Church,      (ease 

Ma.  These  newes  reuiue  me,&  do  somewhat 
The  thought  that  was  new  gotten  to  my  heart. 
But  shall  it  be  to  night  ? 

Yong  Ar.  I  wench,to  night. 

2055  A  sennet  and  odde  dayes  since  my  wife  died 
Is  past  alreadie,and  her  timelesse  death, 
/s  but  a  nine  daies  talke,come  go  with  me, 
And  it  shall  be  dispatched  presently. 

Ma.  Nay  then  I  see  thou  louest  me,&  I  finde 
2060  By  this  last  motio,  thou  art  growne  more  kinde. 

Yong  Ar.  My  loue  and  kindnesse  like  my  age  shal  grow, 

And 


[64]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

And  with  the  time  increase, and  thou  shalt  fee, 

The  older  /  grow, the  kinder  /  will  bee. 

Ma.  I  so  I  hope  it  will, but  as  for  mine, 
2065  That  with  my  age  shall  day  by  day  decline. 

Come,  shall  we  goe  ? 

Yong  Ar.  With  thee  to  the  worlds  end. 

Whose  beautie  most  admire,  and  all  commend. 

Exeunt. 
2070  Enter  Anselme  and  Fuller. 

An.  Tis  true  as  I  relate  the  circumstance, 

And  she  is  with  my  mother  safe  at  home, 

But  yet  for  all  the  hate  I  can  alledge 

Against  her  husband,  nor  for  all  the  loue 
2075  That  on  my  owne  part  I  can  vrge  her  too, 

Will  she  be  wonne  to  gratifie  my  loue. 
Ful.  All  things  are  full  of  ambiguitie, 

And  I  admire  this  wondrous  accident. 

But  Anselme, Arthur's  about  a  new  wife, a  bona  raba, 
2080  How  will  she  take  it  when  she  heares  this  newes? 
An.  I  thinke  euen  as  a  vertuous  Matron  should  ; 

It  may  be  that  report  may  from  thy  mouth 

Beget  some  pittie  from  her  flintie  heart, 

And  I  will  vrge  her  with  it  presently. 
2o85       Ful.  Vnlesse  report  be  false, they  are  linkt  alreadie, 

They  are  fast  as  words  can  tie  them  :  /  will  tell  thee 

How  I  by  chance  did  meet  him  the  last  night. 

One  said  to  me, this  Arthur  did  intend 

To  haue  a  wife, and  presently  to  marrie  : 
2090  Amidst  the  street  /  met  him  as  my  friend, 

And  to  his  Loue  a  present  he  did  carrie. 

It  was  some  ring, some  stomacher,  or  toy, 

/  spake  to  him, and  bad  God  giue  him  ioy. 

God  giue  me  ioy  quoth  he, of  what  /  pray  ? 
200,5  Marrie  quoth  /,  your  wedding  that  is  toward. 

Tis 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [65] 

Tis  salfe  quoth  he,&  would  haue  gone  his  way. 
Come, come, quoth  I, so  neare  it.&  so  froward  : 
I  vrg'd  him  hard  by  our  familiar  loues, 
Pray'd  him  withall  not  to  forget  my  gloues. 
2100  Then  he  began, your  kindnesse  hath  bene  great, 
Your  curtesie  great, and  your  loue  not  common, 
Yet  so  much  fauour  pray  let  me  intreat, 
To  be  excus'd  from  marrying  any  woman. 
I  knew  the  wench  that  is  become  his  Bride, 
2io5  And  smil'd  to  thinke  how  deepely  he  had  lide, 
For  first  he  swore  he  did  not  court  a  maide, 
A  wife  he  could  not. she  was  else-where  tied, 
And  as  for  such  as  widowes  were, he  said, 
And  deeply  swore,  none  such  shuld  be  his  bride. 
2110  Widow,nor  wife, nor  maide,!  askt  no  more, 
Knowing  he  was  betroth'd  vnto  a  whore. 

Enter  Mistresse  A  rthur. 

Ans.  Is  it  not  Mistris  Mary  that  you  meane, 
She  that  did  dine  with  vs  at  Arthurs  houfe? 
21 15     Fid.  The  same, the  same, here  comes  the  Gentlewoman, 
Oh  Mistris  Arthur, \  am  of  your  counsell, 
Welcome  from  death  to  life. 

Ans. Mistris, this  gentleman  hath  news  to  tel  ye, 
And  as  you  like  of  it,  so  think  of  me. 
2120       Ful.  Your  husband  hath  alreadie  got  a  wife, 
A  huffing  wench  yfaith,  whose  ruffing  silkes, 
Make  with  their  motion, musicke  vnto  loue, 
And  you  are  quite  forgotten. 

Ans.  I  haue  sworne  to  moue  this  my  vnchaste  demand 
2125  no  more. 

Ful.  When  doth  your  colour  change? 
When  dpth  your  eyes  Sparkle  with  fire  to  reuenge  these 

wrongs  ? 
When  doth  your  tongue  breake  into  rage  and  wrath, 

I  Against 


[66]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

2i3o  Against  that  scum  of  manhood, your  vile  husband, 
He  first  misvde  you. 

Ans.  And  yet  can  you  loue  him? 
Fill.  He  left  your  chaste  bed,to  defile  the  bed 
Of  sacred  marriage  with  a  Curtezan. 
2i35       A  ns.  Yet  can  you  loue  him? 

Ful.  And  not  content  with  this, 
Abus'd  your  honest  name  with  staundrous  words, 
And  fild  your  husht  house  with  vnquietnesse. 

Ansel.  And  can  you  loue  him  yet  ? 
2140       Ful.  Nay  did  he  not  with  his  rude  fingers  dash  you  on 

the  face, 

And  double  dye  your  Corrall  lips  with  bloud  ? 
Hath  he  not  torne  those  Gold  wyers  from  your  head, 
Wherewith  Apollo  would  haue  strung  his  Harpe, 
2145  And  kept  them  to  play  musicke  to  the  Gods? 
Hath  he  not  beate  you, and  with  his  rude  fists, 
Vpo  that  Crimzon  temperature  of  your  cheeks, 
Laid  a  lead  colour  with  his  boystrous  blowes. 

Ansel.  And  can  you  loue  him  yet  ? 
2i5o       Ful.  Then  did  he  not 

Eyther  by  poison, or  some  other  plot, 
Send  you  to  death, where  by  his  Prouidence, 
God  hath  preseru'd  you  by  wondrous  myracle  ? 
Nay  after  death  hath  he  not  scandaliz'd 
2i55  Your  place, with  an  immodest  Curtizan? 
Ans.  And  can  you  loue  him  yet? 

Mis.Ar.  And  yet, and  yet, and  still, and  euer  whilst  I 

breathe  this  ayre: 

Nay  after  death  my  vnsubstantiall  soule, 
2160  Like  a  good  Angell  shall  attend  on  him, 
And  keepe  him  from  all  harme. 
But  is  he  married, much  good  do  his  heart, 
Pray  God  she  may  content  him  better  farre 

Then 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [67] 

Then  I  haue  done  :  long  may  they  Hue  in  peace, 
2i65  Till  /  disturbe  their  solace;but  because 

/  feare  some  mischiefe  doth  hang  ore  his  head, 

He  weepe  mine  eyes  drie  with  my  present  care, 

And  for  their  healths  make  hoarce  my  toong  with  praier. 

Exit. 

2170       FuL  Art  sure  she  is  a  woman?  if  she  be, 
She  is  create  of  Natures  puritie. 

Ans.  O  yes,/  too  well  know  she  is  a  woman, 
Henceforth  my  vertue  shall  my  loue  withstand, 
And  on  my  striuing  thoughts  get  the  vpper  had. 
2175       Fill.  Then  thus  resolu'd,/  straight  will  drinke  to  thee, 
A  health  thus  deepe,  to  drowne  thy  melancholy. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Mary,yong  A  rthur,Brabo,and  Splay. 
Ma.  Not  haue  my  will, yes  I  will  haue  my  will, 
2180  Shall  /  not  goe  abroad  but  when  you  please  ? 
Can  I  not  now  and  then  meete  with  my  friends, 
But  at  my  comming  home  you  will  controwle  me? 
Marrie  come  vp. 

Yong  Ar.  Where  art  thou  patience  ? 
2185  Nay  rather  wheres  become  my  former  spleene? 
/  had  a  wife  would  not  haue  vsde  me  so. 

Ma. Why  you  lacke  sawce,  you  Cuckold,  you  what  not, 
What  am  not  /  of  age  sufficient 
To  go  and  come  still  when  my  pleasure  serues, 
2190  But  must  I  haue  you  sir  to  question  me  ? 
Not  haue  my  will?  yes  I  will  haue  my  will. 

Yong  Ar.  I  had  a  wife  would  not  haue  vsde  me  so, 
But  shee  is  dead. 

Bra.  Not  haue  her  will,  sir  she  shall  haue  her  will, 
2ig5  She  saies  she  will,  and  sir  /  say  she  shall. 
Not  haue  her  will?  that  were  a  /east  indeed. 
Who  saies  she  shall  not, if  I  be  disposde 

I    2  To 


[68]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

To  man  her  forth, who  shall  finde  fault  with  it? 

What's  he  that  dare  say  black's  her  eie? 
2200  Though  you  be  married  sir, yet  you  must  know 

That  she  was  euer  borne  to  haue  her  will. 
Splay.  Not  haue  her  wil,Gods  passion  7  say  still, 

A  woman's  no  bodie  that  wants  her  will. 

Yong  Ar.  Where  is  my  spirit, what  shal  I  main- 
22o5  A  strumpet  with  a  Brabo  and  her  bawd,         (taine 

To  beard  me  out  of  my  authortie. 

What  am  I  from  a  maister  made  a  slaue? 

Ma.  A  slaue?  nay  worse,  dost  thou  maintain  my  man, 

And  this  my  maide?  tis  I  maintaine  them  both. 
2010  /  am  thy  wife, I  will  not  be  drest  so 

While  thy  Gold  lasts, but  then  most  willingly 

/  will  bequeath  thee  to  flat  beggerie. 

/  do  alreadie  hate  thee, do  thy  worst, 

Nay  touch  me  if  thou  darst :  what  shall  he  beate  me? 
22i5       Bra.  He  make  him  seeke  his  fingers  mongst  the  dogges, 

That  dares  to  touch  my  Mistresse  :  neuer  feare, 

My  sword  shall  smooth  the  wrinckles  of  his  browes 

That  bends  a  frowne  vpon  my  Mistresse. 

Yong  Ar.  I  had  a  wife  would  not  haue vsde  me  so, 
2220  But  God  is  iust. 

Ma.  Now  Arthur, if  I  knew 

What  in  this  world  would  most  torment  thy  soule, 

That  /  would  doo  :  would  all  my  euill  vsage 

Could  make  thee  straight  dispaire,and  hang  thy  selfe. 
2225  Now  I  remember, where  is  Arthurs  man 

Pipkin,ih'fit  flaue  ?  go  turne  him  out  of  doores, 

None  that  loues  Arthur  shall  haue  house-roome  here. 
Enter  Pipkin. 

Yonder  he  comes,  Brabo  discard  the  fellow. 
223o        Yong  Ar.  Shall  /  be  ouermaistred  in  my  owne? 

Be  thy  selfe  Ar  tor,  strumpet  he  shall  stay. 

Mary. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [69] 

Mary.  What  shall  he  Brabo, shall  he  Mistris  Splay? 
Bra.  Shall  he?  he  shall  not  :  breathes  there  any  liuing, 
Dares  say  he  shall, when  Brabo  sales  he  shall  not  ? 
2235        Yong  Ar.  7s  there  no  law  for  this?  she  is  my  wife, 
Should  7  complaine,/  should  be  rather  mockt  : 
7  am  content,  keepe  by  thee  whom  thou  list. 
Discharge  whom  thou  thinkst  good,  do  what  thou  wilt, 
Rise, go  to  bed, stay  at  home, or  go  abroad 
2240  At  thy  good  pleasure  keepe  all  companies  : 
So  that  for  all  this, 7  may  haue  but  peace. 
Be  vnto  me  as  7  was  to  my  wife, 
Onely  giue  me  what  7  denied  her  then, 
A  litle  loue,and  some  small  quietnesse. 
2245  If  he  displease  thee,turne  him  out  of  doores. 

Pip.  Who  me  ?  turne  me  out  of  doores  ?  is  this  all  the 
wages  7  shall  haue  at  the  yeares  end,  to  bee  turned  outof 
doores?  you  Mistris,you  are  a. 

Splay.  A  what?  speake,a  what?  touch  her, and  touch  me; 
225o  taint  her, and  taint  me;  speake,speake,a  what? 
Pip.  Marrie  a  woman  that  is  kin  to  the  frost. 
Splay.  How  do  you  meane  that?  (stand. 

Pip.  And  you  are  a  kin  to  the  Latine  word,  tovnder- 
Splay.  And  whats  that? 

2255       Pip.  Subaiidi.subaudi :  and  sir,doo  you  not  vse  to  pinke 

Splay.  And  why?  (doublets? 

Pip.  I  tooke  you  for  a  cutter,you  are  of  a  great  kindred; 

you  are  a  common  couzener,  euerie  bodie  calls  you  cou- 

sen '.besides, they  say  you  are  a  verie  good  Warrener,you 

2260  haue  beene  an  olde  Coney-catcher  :  but  if  I  bee  turned  a 

begging  ,  as  I  know  not  what  I  am  borne  too  ,  and  that 

you  euer  come  to  the  said  Trade, as  nothing  is  vnpossible, 

He  set  all  the  Common-wealth  of  beggers  on  your  back, 

and  all  the  Congregation  of  vermine  shall  be  put  to  your 

2265  keeping,  and  then  if  you  bee  not  more  bitten  then  all  the 

I     3  Companie 


[70]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Companie  of  beggers  besides  ,  He  not  haue  my  will: 
zounds  turnd  out  of  doores,Ile  goe  and  set  vp  my  Trade, 
a  dish  to  drink  in  that  I  haue  within,  a  wallet  that  He  make 
of  an  old  shirt,  then  my  speech  for  the  Lordes  sake,  /  be- 
2270  seech  your  worship,  then  /  must  haue  a  lame  leg, He  go  to 
footeball  and  breake  my  shinnes,  and  I  am  prouided  for 
that. 

Bra.  What  stands  the  villain  prating,  hence  you  slaue. 

Exit  Pipkin. 
2275        Yon.hr.  Art  thou  yet  pleasd  ? 

Ma.  When  /  haue  had  my  humor. 
Yon.Ar.  Good  friends  for  manners  sake  a  while  with- 
Bra.  It  is  our  pleasure  sir  to  stand  aside.  (draw. 

Yong  AT.  Mary  what  cause  hast  thou  to  vse  me  thus? 
2280  From  nothing  I  haue  raisd  thee  to  much  wealth, 
Twas  more  then  I  did  owe  thee  :  many  a  pound, 
Nay  many  a  hundred  pound  /  spent  on  thee 
In  my  wiues  time, and  once  but  by  my  meanes 
Thou  hads  bin  in  much  danger, but  in  all  things 
2285  My  purse  and  credit  euer  bare  thee  out  : 
I  did  not  owe  thee  this,  I  had  a  wife 
That  would  haue  laid  her  selfe  beneath  my  feete 
To  do  me  service, her  /  set  at  naught 
For  the  intire  affection  /  bare  thee. 
2290  To  shew  that  /  haue  lou'd  thee, haue  /  not 

Aboue  all  wemen  made  chiefe  choyce  of  thee  ? 
An  argument  sufficient  of  my  loue, 
What  reason  then  hast  thou  to  wrong  me  thus  ? 

Ma.  It  is  my  humor. 

2296      Yon.hr.  O  but  such  humors  honest  wiues  shuld  purge: 
He  shew  thee  a  far  greater  instance  yet 
Of  the  true  loue  that  I  haue  borne  to  thee, 
Thou  knewest  my  brothers  wife,  was  she  not  faire  ? 
Mary.  So  so. 

Yong. 


ttoiv  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [71] 

23oo       Yong  Ar.  But  more  then  faire,  was  she  not  vertuous, 
Endued  with  the  beautie  of  the  minde  ? 
Yon.Ar.  Faith  so  they  said. 

YongAr.  Harke  in  thine  eare,Ile  trust  thee  with  my  life, 
Then  which  what  greater  instance  of  my  loue  : 
23o5  Thou  knewest  full  well  how  sodainly  she  died, 
To  enioy  thy  loue  euen  then  I  poysoned  her. 

Ma.  How  poysoned  her  !  accursed  murderer, 
/le  ring  this  fatall  larum  in  all  eares, 
Then  which  what  greater  instance  of  my  hate. 
23io      Yong  Ar.  Wilt  thou  not  keep  my  counsell?  (her. 

Tkfa.Villain  no,  thoult  poison  me  as  thou  hast  poisoned 
Yong.Ar.  Dost  thou  reward  me  thus  for  all  my  loue  ? 
Then  Arthur  flie  and  seeke  to  saue  thy  life, 
O  difference  twixt  a  chast  and  vnchaft  wife.         Exit. 
23i5       Ma.  Pursue  the  murderer,  apprehend  him  strait. 
Bra.  Why  whats  the  matter  Mistris  ? 
Ma.  This  villain  Krthur  poisoned  his  first  wife, 
Which  he  in  secret  hath  confest  to  me  : 
Goe  and  fetch  warrants  from  the  Justices 
232O  To  attach  the  murderer,  he  once  hangd  and  dead, 
His  wealth  is  mine  :  pursue  the  slaue  thats  dead. 
Bra.  Mistris  /  will, he  shall  not  passe  this  land 
But/  will  bring  him  bound  with  this  strong  hand. 

Exeunt. 
2325  Enter  Mistris  A  rthur. 

Mis:Ar.  O  what  are  the  vaine  pleasures  of  the  world, 
That  in  their  actions  we  affect  them  so  ? 
Had  I  bene  borne  a  seruant,my  low  life 
Had  stedie  stood  from  all  these  miseries  : 
233o  The  wauing  reeds  stand  free  from  euery  gust, 
When  the  tall  okes  are  rent  vp  by  the  rootes  : 
What  is  vaine  bewtie  but  an  Idle  breath  ? 
Why  are  we  proud  of  that  which  so  soone  changes? 

But 


[72]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

But  rather  wish  the  bewtie  of  the  minde, 

2335  Which  neither  time  can  alter, sicknesse  change, 
Violence  deface,  nor  the  black  hand  of  enuie, 
Smudge  &  disgrace, or  spoile,or  make  deformd. 
O  had  my  riotous  husband  borne  this  minde, 
He  had  bene  happie,/  had  bene  more  blest, 

2340  And  peace  had  prought  our  quiet  soules  to  rest. 

Enter  young  Arthur  poorely. 
Yong  Ar.  O  whither  shall  /  flie  to  saue  my  life, 
When  murther  and  dispaire  dogs  at  my  heeles? 
O  miserie,thou  neuer  foundst  a  friend, 

2345  All  friends  forsake  men  in  aduersitie  : 
My  brother  hath  denied  to  succour  me, 
Vpbraiding  me  with  name  of  murderer. 
My  vncles  double  barre  their  doores  against  me  ; 
My  father  hath  denied  to  shelter  me, 

235o  And  curst  me  worse  then  Adam  did  vile  Eue. 
/that  within  these  two  daies  had  more  friends 
Then  /  could  number  with  Arithmatike, 
Haue  now  no  more  then  one  poore  Cipher  is, 
And  that  poore  Cipher  /  supply  my  selfe. 

235o  All  that  /  durst  commit  my  fortunes  too, 

/haue  tried, &  finde  none  to  relieue  my  wants, 
My  sudden  flight,and  feare  of  future  shame, 
Left  me  vnfurnisht  of  all  necessaries, 
And  these  three  daies  /  haue  not  tasted  foode. 

2355    Mis:  Ar:  It  is  my  husband, 6  how  iust  is  heauen  ! 
Poorely  disguis'd,  and  almost  hunger- staru'd. 
How  comes  this  change  ? 

Yon.  Ar.  Doth  no  man  follow  me? 
O  how  suspicious  guiltie  murder  is, 

236o  /  starue  for  hunger, and  /  die  for  thirst  : 

Had  /  a  kingdome  /  would  sell  my  Crowne 
For  a  small  bit  of  bread  :  /  shame  to  beg, 

And 


how  to  chuse  a  good  wife  from  a  bad.  [73] 

And  yet  perforce  I  must  or  beg  or  starue. 
This  house  belike  longs  to  some  gentlewoman, 
2370  And  heres  a  woman,!  will  beg  of  her: 

Good  mistris  looke  vpon  a  proore  mans  wants. 
Whom  do  I  see?  tush  Arthur  she  is  dead: 
But  that  I  saw  her  dead  and  buried, 
I  would  haue  sworne  it  had  bene  Arthurs  wife: 
2375  But  I  will  leaue  her,  shame  forbids  me  beg 
On  one  so  much  resembles  her. 

Mis.Ar.  Come  hither  fellow,  wherfore  dost  thou  turn 
Thy  guiltie  lookes  and  blushing  face  aside  ? 
It  seemes  thou  hast  not  bene  brought  vp  to  this. 
238o        Yong  Ar.  You  say  true  mistris  :  then  for  charitie, 
And  for  her  sake  whom  you  resemble  most, 
Pittie  my  present  want  and  miserie. 

Mis.Ar.  It  seemes  thou  hast  bene  in  some  better  plight, 
Sit  downe  I  prithee,  men  though  they  be  poore, 
2385  Should  not  be  scorn'd  :  to  ease  thy  hunger, first 

Eate  these  Conserues  :  and  now  I  prithee  tell  me, 
What  thou  hast  bene,thy  fortunes,thy  estate, 
And  what  she  was  that  I  resemble  most? 

Yong  Ar.  First  looke  that  no  man  see, or  ouerheare  vs, 
23go  I  thinke  that  shape  was  borne  to  do  me  good. 

Mis.  Ar.  Hast  thou  knowne  one  that  did  resemble  me? 
Yong.Ar.  I  Mistris,/  cannot  chuse  but  weepe 
To  call  to  minde  the  fortunes  of  her  youth. 

Mis.Ar.  Tell  me, of  what  estate  or  birth  was  she? 
23g5        Yong  Ar.  Borne  of  good  parents, &  as  well  brought  vp. 
Most  faire,but  not  so  faire  as  vertuous, 
Happie  in  all  things  but  her  marriage. 
Her  riotous  husband,  which  I  weepe  to  thinke, 
By  his  leaud  life  made  them  both  miscarrie. 
2400       Mis.Ar.  Why  dost  thou  grieue  at  their  aduersities? 

Yong  Ar.  O  blame  me  not,  that  man  my  kinsman  was, 

K  Nearer 


[74]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Nearer  to  me  a  kinsman  could  not  be, 

As  neare  allied  was  that  chaste  woman  too, 

Nearer  was  neuer  husband  to  his  wife  : 
2405  He  whom  /  term'd  my  friend, no  friend  of  mine, 

Prouing  both  mine  and  his  owne  enemie, 

Poysoned  his  wife, 6  the  time  he  did  so, 

Joyed  at  her  death, inhumane  slaue  to  do  so, 

Exchang'd  her  loue  for  a  base  strumpets  lust; 
2410  Foule  wretch,accursed  villaine,to  exchange  so. 

M is.  Ar.  You  are  wise, and  blest,and  happie  to  repent  so, 

But  what  became  of  him  and  his  new  wife? 

Yong  Ar.  O  heare  the  iustice  of  the  highest  heauen, 

This  strumpet  in  reward  of  all  his  loue, 
2416  Pursues  him  for  the  death  of  his  first  wife, 

And  now  the  wofull  husband  languisheth, 

Flies  vpon  pursu'd  by  her  fierce  hate, 

And  now  too  late  he  doth  repent  her  sinne, 

Readie  to  perish  in  his  owne  dispaire, 
2420  Hauing  no  meanes  but  death  to  rid  his  care. 

Mis.Ar.  I  can  indure  no  more  but  I  must  weepe, 

My  blabbing  teares  cannot  my  counsell  keepe. 

Yong  Ar.  Why  weep  you  Mistris?  if  you  had  the  heart 

Of  her  whom  you  resemble  in  your  face, 
2425  But  she  is  dead, and  for  her  death, 

The  spunge  of  either  eye, 

Shall  weepe  red  teares  till  euerie  vaine  is  drie. 
Mis.Ar.  Why  weep  you  friend, your  rainie  drops  keepe 

Repentance  wipes  away  the  drops  of  sin. 
2480  Yet  tell  me  friend,he  did  exceeding  ill, 

A  wife  that  lou'd  and  hononr'd  him,to  kill. 

Yet  say  one  like  her,farre  more  chaste  then  faire, 

Bids  him  be  of  good  comfort,  not  despaire. 

Her  soule's  appeasd  with  her  repentant  teares, 
2435  Wishing  he  may  suruiue  her  many  yeares. 

Faine 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [yS] 

Faine  would  I  giue  him  mony  to  supply 
His  present  wants, but  fearing  he  should  flie, 
And  getting  ouer  to  some  forrain  shore, 
These  rainy  eyes  should  neuer  see  him  more. 

2440  My  hart  is  full, I  can  no  longer  stay, 

But  what  I  am  my  loue  must  needs  bewray. 
Farewell  good  fellow, and  take  this  to  spend, 
Say  one  like  her  commends  her  to  your  friend.       Exit. 
Yong  Ar.  No  friend  of  mine, I  was  my  owne  soules  foe 

2445  To  murther  my  chast  wife,  that  lou'd  me  so. 
In  life  she  lou'd  me  dearer  then  her  life, 
What  husband  here,  but  would  wish  such  a  wife. 
/  heare  the  Officers  with  hue  and  crie, 
She  sau'd  my  life  but  now, and  now  I  die. 

2450  And  welcome  death,!  will  not  stir  from  hence, 
Death  /  deseru'd,Ile  die  for  this  offence. 

Enter  Brabo  with  Officers, Splay  and  Hugh. 
Bra.  Here  is  the  murtherer,  and  Reasons  man 
You  haue  the  warrant  :  Sirs  laie  hands  on  him, 

2455  Attach  the  slaue,and  lead  him  bound  to  death. 

Hu.  No  by  my  faith  M. Brabo,  you  haue  the  better  hart, 
at  least  you  should  haue  :  /  am  sure  you  haue  more  Iron 
and  steele,  then  /  haue, do  you  laie  hands  vpon  him, I  pro 
mise  you  /  dare  not. 

2460       Bra.  Constables  forward, forward  Officers, 
/  will  not  thrust  my  finger  in  the  fire. 
Laie  hands  on  him  /  fay, why  step  you  backe  ? 
I  meane  to  be  the  hindmost, least  that  any 
Should  runne  away  and  leaue  the  rest  in  perill  : 

2465  Stand  for  ward,  are  you  not  asham'd  to  feare  ? 

Yon.  Ar.  Nay  neuer  striue, behold  /  yeeld  my  selfe, 
/  must  commend  your  resolution, 
That  being  so  many  and  so  weapond, 
Dare  not  aduenture  on  a  man  vnarmd. 

K    2  Now 


[76]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

2470  Now  lead  me  to  what  prison  you  thinke  best, 
Yet  vse  me  well, I  am  a  Gentleman. 

Hue.  Truly  M.  Arthur  we  will  vse  you  as  well  as  heart 
can  thinke, the  Justices  sit  to  day, and  my  Mistris  is  chiefe, 
you  shall  commaund  me. 

2475       Bra.  What  hath  he  yeelded?  if  he  had  withstood  vs, 
This  Curtelax  of  mine  had  cleft  his  head  : 
Resist  he  durst  not  when  he  once  spied  me. 
Come  lead  him  hence,  how  likest  thou  this  sweet  witch  ? 
This  fellowes  death  will  make  our  mistris  rich. 
2480       Splay.  I  say  I  care  not  whose  dead  or  aliue, 
So  by  their  Hues  or  deaths,  we  two  may  thriue. 
Hue.  Come  beare  him  away. 

Enter  Justice  Reason, old  Arthur, old Lusam. 
lust.  Old  M.  Arthur  and  M.  Lusam,  fo  it  is,  that  I  haue 
2486  heard  both  your  complaints, but  vnderstood  neither,  for 
you  know  Legere  &  non  intelligere  negligere  est. 

Old  Ar.  I  come  for  fauour,as  a  father  should, 
Pittying  the  fall  and  ruine  of  his  sonne. 

Old  Lus.  I  come  for  iustice,as  a  father  should, 
2490  That  hath  by  violent  murder  lost  his  daughter. 

lust.  You  come  for  fauour,and  you  come  for  iustice, 
Justice  with  fauour  is  not  partiall, 
And  vsing  that,  I  hope  to  please  you  both. 

Old  Ar.  Good  M.  Justice  thinke  vpon  my  sonne. 
2496       Old  L&s.  Good  M.  Justice  thinke  vpon  my  daughter. 

lust.  Why  so  I  do,  I  thinke  vpon  them  both, 
But  can  do  neither  of  you  good  : 
For  he  that  Hues  must  die, and  she  thats  dead, 
Cannot  be  reuiued. 
25oo       Old  Ar.  Lusam,thou  seekst  to  rob  me  of  my  sonne,  my 

onely  sonne. 

Old  Lus.  Hee  robd  mee  of  my  daughter  ,  my  onely 
daughter. 

lust. 


ho  w  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [77] 

lust.  And  robbers  are  flat  fellons  by  the  law. 
25o5       Old  Ar.  Lusam,  I  say  thou  art  a  blood-sucker, 
A  tyrant, a  remorslesse  Caniball : 
Old  as  /  am  He  proue  it  on  thy  bones. 

Old  Lu.  Am  /  a  blood-sucker  or  Caniball  ? 
Am  /a  tyrant  that  do  thirst  for  blood  ? 
25io       Old  Ar.  I  if  thou  seekst  the  ruine  of  my  sonne, 
Thou  art  a  tyrant  and  a  blood-sucker. 

Old  Lu.  /if/  seeke  the  ruine  of  thy  sonne  /  am  indeed. 
Old.Ar.  Nay  more  thou  art  a  dotard. 
And  in  the  right  of  my  accursed  sonne, 
25i5  /  chalendge  thee  the  field,  meet  me  /  say 
To  morrow  morning  besides  Islington, 
And  bring  thy  sword  &  buckler  if  thou  darst. 
Old  Lu.  Meet  thee  with  my  sword  &  buckler, 

theres  my  gloue, 

25ao  He  meet  thee  to  reuenge  my  daughters  death. 
Callst  thou  me  dotard,  though  these  threescore 
I  neuer  handled  weapon  but  a  knife         fyeares, 
To  cut  my  meate,yet  wil  /  meet  thee  there. 
Gods  pretious  call  me  dotard. 
2626       Old  Arthur.  I  haue  cause, 

lust  cause  to  call  thee  dotard,  haue  /  not  ? 

Old  Lu.  Nay  thats  another  matter  haue  you  cause, 
Then  God  forbid  that  /  should  take  exceptions 
To  be  cald  dotard  of  one  that  hath  cause. 
253o       lust.  My  Maisters  you  must  leaue  this  quarrelling,  for 
quarrellers  are  neuer  at  peace, and  me  of  peace  while  they 
are  at  quiet  are  neuer  quarrelling ;  so  you  whilst  you  fall 
into  brawles,  }'ou  cannot  chuse  but  lar.Here  comes  your 
sonne  accused,  &  your  wife  the  accuser  :  stand  forth  both. 
2535  Hugh  be  readie  with  your  pen  and  /nke  to  take  their  exa 
minations  and  confessions. 

K    3  Enter 


[78]  how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad. 

Enter  Mary,  Splay, Brabo,yong  Arthur, Hue, 

and  Officers. 

Yong  Ar.  It  shall  not  need,/  do  confesse  the  deed, 
2540  Of  which  this  woman  here  accuseth  me  : 
I  poisoned  my  first  wife, and  for  that  deed 
I  yeeld  me  to  the  mercie  of  the  lawe. 

Old  Lus.  Villaine,thou  meanst  my  onely  daughter, 
And  in  her  death  depriuedst  me  of  all  ioyes. 
2545        Yong  Ar.  I  meane  her, I  do  confesse  the  deed, 
And  though  my  bodie  taste  the  force  of  Lawe, 
Like  an  offender, on  my  knee  I  begges, 
Your  angrie  soule  will  pardon  me  her  death. 

Old  Lus.  Nay  if  he  kneeling  do  confesse  the  deed, 
255o  No  reason  but  I  should  forgiue  her  death. 

lust.  But  so  the  law  must  not  be  satisfied, 
Bloud  must  haue  bloud,and  men  must  haue  death, 
I  thinke  that  cannot  be  dispenc'd  withall. 

Ma.  If  all  the  world  else  would  forgiue  the  deed, 
2555  Yet  would  I  earnestly  pursue  the  law. 

Yong  Ar.  I  had  a  wife  would  not  haue  vsde  me  so, 
The  wealth  of  Europe  could  not  hire  her  tongue, 
To  be  offensiue  to  my  patient  eares, 
But  in  exchanging  her,/  did  preferre 
256o  A  diuell  before  a  Saint,  night  before  day, 

Hell  before  heauen,and  drosse  before  tried  gold, 
Neuer  was  bargaine  with  such  dammage  sold. 

Bra.  If  you  want  witnesse  to  confirme  the  deed, 
/heard  him  speake  it, and  that  to  his  face 
2565  Before  this  presence  I  will  iustifie, 

I  will  not  part  hence  till  I  see  him  swing. 

Splay.  I  heard  him  too,pittie  but  he  should  die, 
And  like  a  murderer  be  sent  to  hell, 
To  poyson  her, and  make  her  belly  swell. 

2570       Ma.  Why  stay  you  then,giue  Judgement  on  the  slaue, 

Whose 


A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie  [79] 

Whose  shamelesse  life  deserues  a  shamefull  graue. 

Yong  Ar.  Deaths  bitter  pangs  are  not  so  full  of  griefe, 
As  this  vnkindnesse  :  euery  word  thou  speakst, 
7s  a  sharpe  dagger  thrust  quite  through  my  heart. 
2575  As  little  I  deserue  this  at  thy  hands, 

As  my  kinde  patient  wife  deseru'd  of  me, 

/  was  her  torment,  God  hath  made  thee  mine, 

Then  wherefore  at  iust  plagues  should  I  repine  ? 

lust.  Where  didst  thou  buy  this  poison?  for  such  drugs 
258o  Are  felonie  for  any  man  to  sell. 

Yong  Ar.  I  had  the  poison  of  Aminadab, 
But  innocent  man,  he  was  not  accessarie 
To  my  wifes  death,!  cleare  him  of  the  deed. 

lust.  No  matter, fetch  him, fetch  him, bring  him 
2585  To  answere  to  this  matter  at  the  barre: 

Hue,  take  these  Officers  and  apprehend  him. 

Bar.  He  aide  him  too, the  schoolemaister  I  see 
Perhaps  may  hang  with  him  for  companie. 

Enter  Anselme  and  Fuller. 

25op       Ans.  This  is  the  day  of  Arthurs  examination 
And  triall  for  the  murder  of  his  wife  : 
Lets  heare  how  Justice  Reason  will  proceed, 
In  censuring  of  his  strickt  punishment. 

Ful.  Anselme  content,  lets  thrust  in  among  the  throng. 
25g5  Enter  A  minadab  fir  ought  in  with  Officers. 

Ami.  O  Domine,  what  meane  these  knaues, 
To  lead  me  thus  with  bills  and  glaues? 
O  what  example  would  it  bee, 
To  all  my  pupills  for  to  see, 
2600  To  tread  their  steps  all  after  me  : 
7f  for  some  fault  I  hanged  be  : 
Somewhat  surely  I  shall  marre, 
If  you  bring  me  to  the  barre. 
But  peace,betake  thee  to  thy  wits, 

For 


[8o]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

26o5  For  yonder  Justice  Reason  sits. 

lust.  Sir  Dad, Sir  Dab,heres  one  accuseth  you 
To  giue  him  poison  being  ill  imploied, 
Speak  how  in  this  case  you  can  cleare  your  selfe. 
Ami.  Hei  ?ftf£f,what  shuld  7  say, the  poison  giue  /  denay  : 
2610  He  tooke  it  perforce  fro  my  hands,  and  domine  why  not  / 
Got  it  of  a  gentleman, he  most  freely  gaue  it, 
Aske  he  knew  me, a  meanes  was  only  to  haue  it. 

Yong  Ar.  Tis  true  /  tooke  it  from  this  man  perforce, 
And  snatcht  it  from  his  hand  by  rude  constraint, 
26i5  Which  proues  him  in  this  act  not  culpable. 

lust.  I  but  who  sold  the  poison  vnto  him  ? 
That  must  be  likewise  knowne,speake  schoole-maister. 

Ami.  A  man  verbosus,that  was  a  fine  generosus, 
He  was  a  great  guller,  his  name  /  take  to  be  Fuller: 
2620  See  where  he  stands  that  vnto  my  hands  conueyed  a 

powder, 
And  like  a  knaue  sen  her  to  her  graue  obscurely  to  shroud 

her. 

lust.  Laie  hands  on  him, are  you  a  poison  seller  ? 
2626  Bring  him  before  vs,sirra  what  say  you, 
Sold  you  a  poison  to  this  honest  man  ? 

Ful.  I  sold  no  poison,but/gaue  him  one 
To  kill  his  Rats. 

lust.  Ha, ha,/  smell  a  Rat. 

263o  You  sold  him  poison  then  to  kill  his  Rats  ? 
The  word  to  kill, argues  a  murdrous  mind  : 
And  you  are  brought  in  compasse  of  the  murder: 
So  set  him  by  we  will  not  heare  him  speake. 
That  Arthur  Fuller  and  the  schoole-maister 
2635  Shall  by  the  Judges  be  examined. 

AHS.  Sir  if  my  friend  may  not  speak  for  himself 
Yet  let  me  his  proceedings  iustifie, 

lust. 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [81] 

lust.  Whats  he  that  will  a  murther  iustifie  ? 
Lay  hands  on  him,laie  hands  on  him  I  say, 
2640  For  iustifiers  are  all  accessaries, 

And  accessaries  haue  deseru'd  to  die. 

Away  with  him, we  will  not  heare  him  speake, 

They  all  shall  to  the  high  Commissioners. 

Enter  Mistris  Arthur. 

2645       Mis.Ar.  Nay  stay  them, stay  them  yet  a  little  while, 
I  bring  a  warrant  to  the  contrary, 

And  I  will  please  all  parties  presently.  (death, 

.     Yong  Ar.  I  thinke  my  wiues  ghost  haunts  me  to  my 
Wretch  that  I  was  to  shorten  her  Hues  breath. 
265o       Old  Ar.  Whom  do  I  fee  my  sonnes  wife  ? 
Old  Lus.  What  my  daughter  ? 
lust.  Is  it  not  Mistris  Arthur  that  we  see, 
That  long  since  buried  we  supposde  to  bee. 

Mis.Ar.  This  man  is  codemd  for  poysoning  of  his  wife, 
2655  His  poysoned  wife  yet  Hues, and  I  am  she  : 
And  therefore  iustly  I  release  his  bands. 
This  man  for  surfring  him  these  drugs  to  take, 
Is  likewise  bound, release  him  for  my  sake. 
This  gentleman  that  first  the  poyson  gaue, 
2660  And  this  his  friend  to  be  releasd  /  craue. 

Murther  there  cannot  be  where  none  is  kild, 
Her  blood  is  sau'd  whom  you  suppos'd  was  spild. 
Father  in  law  /  giue  you  here  your  sonne, 
The  act's  to  do,  which  you  suppos'd  was  donne. 
2665  And  father  now  ioy  in  your  daughters  life, 

Whom  heauen  hath  still  kept  to  be  Arthurs  wife. 

Old  Ar.  O  welcome,  welcome,  daughter  now  I 

God  by  his  power  hath  preserued  thee.         (see, 

Old  Lu.  And  tis  my  wench  whom  /  suppos'd  was  dead, 
2670  My  ioy  reuiues,and  my  sad  woe  is  fled. 

L  Yong 


[82]  A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 

Yong  Ar.  I  know  not  what  I  am, nor  where  I  am, 
My  soules  transported  to  an  extasie, 
For  hope  and  ioy  confound  my  memorie. 

Ma.  What  do  /  see,  Hues  Arthurs  wife  againe  ? 
2675  Nay  then  I  labour  for  his  death  in  vaine. 

Bra.  What  secret  force  did  in  nature  lurke, 
That  in  her  soule  the  poyson  would  not  worke? 
Splay.  How  can  it  be  the  poyson  tooke  no  force? 
She  Hues  with  that  which  wold  haue  kild  a  horse. 
2680       Mis.Ar.  Nay  shun  me  not, be  not  asham'd  at  all, 
To  heauen  not  me, for  grace  and  pardon  fall. 
Looke  on  me  Arthur,  blush  not  at  my  wrongs. 

Yong  Ar.  Stil  feare  &  hope  my  grief  &  woe  prolongs. 
But  tell  me  by  what  power  thou  didst  suruiue? 
2685  with  my  own  hands  /  temperd  that  vild  draught 
That  sent  thee  breathles  to  thy  grandsires  graue, 
If  that  were  poyson  /  receiu'd  from  him. 

Ami.  That  ego  nescio,but  this  dram 
Receiu'd  /  of  this  gentleman. 
2690  The  colour  was  to  kill  my  Rats, 
But  twas  my  owne  life  to  dispatch. 

Ful.  Is  it  euen  so, then  this  ambignous  doubt 
No  man  can  better  then  my  selfe  decide. 
That  compound  powder  was  of  Poppie  made  and  Man- 
2695  Of  purpose  to  cast  one  into  a  sleepe,  (drakes, 

To  ease  the  deadly  paine  of  him  whose  legge 
Should  be  sawd  off,  that  powder  gaue  I  to  the  schoolmai- 
Ami.  And  that  same  powder,  euen  that  idem,        (ster. 
You  tooke  from  me  the  same  per  fid  em  : 
2700        Yong  Ar.  And  that  same  powder  I  comixt  with  wine, 
Our  godly  knot  of  wedlock  to  vntwine. 
Old  Ar.  But  daughter  who  did  take  thee  from  thy  graue? 
Old  Lu.  Discourse  it  daughter. 
Ans.  Nay  that  labour  saue.  Pardon 


how  to  chuse  a  good  Wife  from  a  bad.  [83] 

2705  Pardon,  me  M.Ar//wr,I  will  now 

Confesse  the  former  frailtie  of  my  loue. 
Your  modest  wife  with  words  /  tempted  oft, 
But  neither  ill  I  could  report  of  you, 
Nor  any  good  I  could  forge  for  my  selfe 

2710  Would  winne  her  to  attend  to  my  request  : 
Nay  after  death  I  lou'd  her, in  so  much 
That  to  the  vault  where  she  was  buried, 
My  constant  loue  did  lead  me  thorow  the  darke, 
There  readie  to  haue  tane  my  last  farewell, 

2715  The  parting  kisse  I  gaue  her  I  felt  warme, 
Briefly,/  bare  her  to  my  mothers  house, 
Where  she  hath  since  liu'd  the  most  chast  &  true, 
That  since  the  worlds  creation  eye  did  view. 
Yong  Ar.  My  first  wife  stand  you  here,  my  second  there, 

2720  And  in  the  midst  my  selfe  :  he  that  will  chuse 
A  good  wife  from  a  bad, come  learne  of  me 
That  haue  tried  both,  in  wealth  and  miserie. 
A  good  wife  will  be  carefull  of  her  fame, 
Her  husbands  credit,and  her  owne  good  name  : 

2725  And  such  art  thou.  A  bad  wife  will  respect 

Her  pride, her  lust,and  her  good  name  neglect, 
And  such  art  thou.  A  good  wife  will  be  still 
Industrious,  apt  to  do  her  husbands  will. 
But  a  bad  wife,  crosse,  spightfull  and  madding, 

2780  Neuer  keep  home, but  alwaies  be  a  gadding  : 
And  such  art  thou.  A  good  wife  will  conceale 
Her  husbands  dangers,  and  nothing  reueale 
That  may  procure  him  harme,and  such  art  thou. 
But  a  bad  wife  corrupts  chast  wedlocks  vow. 

2735  On  this  hand  vertue,and  on  this  hand  sinne, 

This  who  would  striue  to  loose, or  this  to  winne? 

Here  Hues  perpetuall  ioy,  nere  burning  woe, 

Now  husbands  choose  on  which  hand  you  will  goe. 

Seeke. 


[841 


A  pleasant  conceited  Comedie 


Seeke  vertuous  wiues,all  husbands  will  be  blest, 
2740  Faire  wiues  are  good, but  vertuous  wiues  are  best. 
They  that  my  fortunes  will  pervse, shall  finde 
No  beauties  like  the  beautie  of  the  miride. 

FINIS. 


NOTES. 

4.  The  Exchange.  The  New  Exchange  in  the  Strand,  built  in  1609,  is 
meant.  It  had  rows  of  shops  over  the  walk,  filled  chiefly  with  mil 
liners,  sempstresses  etc,  and  was  a  place  of  fashionable  resort.  The 
women  who  kept  the  stalls  at  the  Exchange  had  no  good  reputation, 
as  is  evident  from  the  following  quotation  taken  from  Nares'  Glossary  : 
Now  every  exchange-wench  is  usher'd  in  by  them  into  her  stalls,  and 
while  she  calls  to  others  to  know  what  they  lack,  while  herself  lacks 
nothing  to  make  her  as  fine  as  a  countess.  England's  Vanity,  i683, 
p.  32.  —  The  Keepers  of  these  stalls  seem  to  have  been  sharp  men  of 
business  for  Longfield  in  Greenes  Tu  Quoque,  Or,  the  Cittie  Gallant 
(Hazlitt-Dodsley  XI,  p.  i83)  says  of  Spendall,  who  tries  to  persuade 
him  into  buying  satin  :  «  This  fellow  has  an  excellent  tongue  :  sure 
he  was  brought  up  in  the  Exchange  ».  —  Among  '  the  pleasures  of  a 
countesse '  Face  and  Subtle  in  the  Alchemist  IV, 4  mention  «  sixe  mares 
—  nay,  eight !  To  hurry  her  through  London,  to  th'  Exchange,  Betlem, 
the  China-houses  ».  —  It  was  also  a  rendez-vous  of  city-gallants  and 
fine  ladies.  Ned  Clerimont  says  of  Sir  Amorous  La-Foole  :  He  has  a 
lodging  in  the  Strand  for  the  purpose.  Or  to  watch  when  ladies  are 
gone  to  the  China  houses,  or  the  Exchange,  that  hee  may  meet  'hem 
by  chance,  and  giue  'hem  presents.  The  Silent  Woman  1,3.  —  Cp.  ibid 
IV,  2.  —  It  was  called  the  New  Exchange  to  distinguish  it  from  the  Old 
or  Royal  Exchange  built  by  Sir  Th.  Gresham  in  i566  and  opened  by 
Queen  Elizabeth  in  1671 .  The  Old  Exchange  was  also  called  the 
Burse,  and  the  New  Exchange  Britain's  Burse.  There  were  also  book 
sellers'  shops  in  the  New  Exchange ;  Campion's  masque  written  for  the 
entertainment  given  by  Lord  Knowles  was  printed  for  John  Budge 
and  was  sold  '  at  his  Shop  at  the  South-door  of  S.  Pauls,  and  at  Bri 
tain's  Burse.  i6i3  '. 

7,  Tell  true  with  dative  is  common  in  Elizabethan  and  Jacobean 
English.  —  I  was  a  Gentleman,  And  then  I  told  you  true.  M .  of  V. 
Ill,  2.  25g.  —  He  tells  you  true  ;  'tis  the  fashion,  on  my  know 
ledge.  A  new  Way  to  pay  old  Debts  IV,  3.  (Mermaid  Series  p.  184.)  —  I 
tell  you  true  I  long  to  see't.  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle  III,  I. 

-  A  late  example  is  :  To  tell  you  true,  I  writ  that  part  only  for  her. 
The  Rehearsal  I ,  i . 

16.  Beare  a  better  thought  Of  your  chast  wife.  Bear  is  used  in  the  sense 


86 

of  to  harbour,  to  cherish,  to  entertain.  Cp.  Bear  free  and  patient 
thoughts  Lear  IV,  6.  80.  —  I  warrant  you  he  bears  so  bad  a  mind.  Arden 
of  Fever  sham,  65 1. 

23.  At  the  first.  Now  rare.  Do  not  strain  your  self  too  much  at  the 
first.  The  Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle  I,  i.  —  Returnes  them  sharper 
set  then  at  the  first.  Cornelia,  1754. 

35.  Do  you  ground  makes  the  line  metrically  correct. 

52.  Cp.  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik  §  481,  for  this  use  of  might. 

56.  I  had  —  censure  of  all  sorts.  Censure,  judgement,  opinion.  As  You 
like  it  IV,  1.7:  betray  themselves  to  every  modern  censure  worse  than 
drunkards. 

64.  No  naturall  foole.  Natural  fool  :  one  who  is  by  nature  deficient 
in  intelligence  ;  a  fool  or  simpleton  by  birth.  ( N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  natural.} 

67.  A  wittie  fool.  Cp.  the  proverb  :  «  Better  a  witty  fool  than  a  fool 
ish  wit  »,  where  witty  means  wise.  The  proverb  is  mentioned  in 
John's  Handbook  of  Proverbs,  327,  and  in  Twelfth  Night  I,  5.  3g. 

69.  Set  your  thoughts  to  schoole.  Cp.  Jonson,  The  Foxe  III,  3  (Bang, 
Materialien  VII,  480)  :  let  me  set  you  both  to  Schoole.  Lear  II,  4.  68  : 
We'll  set  thee  to  school  to  an  ant. 

73.  Wrangle  and  fall  at  oddes.  Odds,  disagreement,  dissension,  quar 
rel.  Cp.  In  Germany,  they  fell  to  oddes  principally  about  the  Sacra 
ment  of  the  last  Supper.  B.  Harris,  ParivaTs  Iron  Age  27.  i65g.  (N. 
E.D.) 

74.  /  neuer  looktfor  better.  For  this  absolute  use  of  better  cp.  Richard  III, 
III,  55o  :  I  never  look'd  for  better  at  his  hands. 

77.  That  such  yong  brats  Would  gree  together.  The  aphetic  from  gree  is 
by  no  means  rare  in  Shakespeare.  Cp.  Meas  IV,  i.  42.  Merck.  II,  2.  108, 
where  Q1  has  agree.  —  For  I  will  not  away  till  I  set  such  a  stay  To 
make  you  gree  friendly.  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife,  Museum  Dramatists, 

57. 

84.  For  most  =  greatest  cp.  Franz,  Shakespeare-Grammatik,  §  68. 

88.  Bithmasse,  by  the  mass.  Cp.  Englische  Studien  XXIV,  214. 

89,  90.  For  the  form  shrow  cp.  Horn,  Historische  Neuenglische  Gram 
matik,  §  1 38.  The  second  quarto  has  shrew. 

104.  Let  vs  leaue  this  walke.  So  also  in  the  second  quarto.  In  Hazlitt- 
Dodsley  IX  Walke  is  changed  into  talk.  There  is,  I  think,  no  necessity 
for  this.  Anselm  sees  Young  Arthur,  and  does  not  wish  to  be  dis 
covered  by  him.  We  may  assume  with  Hazlitt-Dodsley  (p.  9)  that, 
after  the  Latin  quotation,  Anselm  and  Fuller  leave  the  stage. 

107.  The  first  worke  we  will  make.  In  this  sense  we  now  use  the 
verb  to  do  with  work.  Coriolanus  I,  859:  And  made  what  work  I 
pleased-  Also  John  II,  3o2,  407. 


87 

108.  The  second  quarto  has  cura.  The  quotation  is  from  Luke  IV, 

23. 

109.  In  Ovid's  Mctamorphosi    I   523   the   amorous  Apollo  says  to 
Daphne  :  ei  mihi,  quod  nullis  amor  est  sanabilis  herbis. 

120.  They  are  bent  to  chide.  To  be  bent,  to  be  prone,  inclined,  liable, 
ready  : 

And  I  am  Stukley  so  resolude  in  all, 
To  follow  rule,  honor  and  Emperie, 
Not  to  be  bent  so  strictly  to  the  place, 
Wherein  at  first  I  blew  the  fire  of  life. 

Battle  of  Alcazar,  453-6. 

Obsolete  now,  but  still  in  use  in  the  i8fch  cent. 
i35.  Fore  God.  Cp.  Englische  Studien  XXIV,  24. 

i3g.  We  will  not  goe  that's  flat,  that  is  certain-  Barnabe  Barnes, 
The  Devil's  Charter,  2934  (Materialien  VI)  :  I  would  goe  wish  you  to 
the  warres  this  next  spring  thatsflat. 

148.  for  pitie  sake.  Cp.  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik,  §  46. 

149.  Yet  are  you  aduise-  Aduise  is  a  misprint  for  aduised.  To  be  advised 
is  to  act  after  consideration,  to  be  wary,  judicious.  Cp.  N.  E.  D.  i-  v. 
The  punctuation  of  11.  149-151  is  somewhat  misleading ;  read  : 

Wei  fare  a  good  hart !  Yet  are  you  aduised. 
Goe,  said  you  M.  Arthur  ?  I  will  runne, 
To  end  these  broyles  that  discord  hath  begunne. 
Wei  fare  a  good  heart,  bless  his  heart ! 

The  second  quarto  has :  Well  fare  a  good  heart,  yet  are  you  aduisde, 
Goe,  said  you  M.  Arther  ?  I  will  runne, 
To  end  these  broyles  that  discord  hath  begunn. 

154.  How  chance  you  tread  so  softly  ?  how  chances  it  that,  how  is  it 
that  you  tread  so  softly  ?  '  Here  chance  takes  no  inflexion,  and  almost 
assumes  the  character  of  an  adverb  '.  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  chance,  v-,  5. 

i5y.  Pipkin  plays  upon  the  various  applications  of  crack  and  of 
crown  :  a  cracked  pipkin,  a  cracked  crown  =  skull,  a  cracked  crown 
=  coin.  Cp.  Pray  God,  your  voice,  like  a  piece  of  uncurrent  gold,  be 
not  cracked  within  the  ring. Haml.  II,  2,448.  —  But  since  that  time  this 
stone  hath  had  a  flaw,  Broken  within  the  ring.  Barnabe  Barnes  The 
Devils  Charter  641.  2  (Materialien  VI.)  In  The  Captives;  or,  The  Lost 
Recovered  (Bullen,  Old  English  Plays  IV,  160),  there  is  a  similar  play 
of  words  :  Neather  styrre  In  payne  of  too  Frensh  crownes,  and  they  so 
crack[t]  Never  more  to  passe  for  currant. 

i58-  For  any  =  anybody  cp.  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik,  §  219. 
162.  So  that  indeed  my  belly  wambled.  Wamble,  to  be  disturbed  with 
nausea.  —  Shall  I  speak,  dear  Warner?  let  me  now;  it  does  so  wamble 


88 

within  me,  just  like  a  clyster,  i'  faith  law,  and  I  can  keep  it  no  lon 
ger  for  my  heart.  Dryden,  Sir  Martin  Mar-all,  V,  i.  -—  The  Dialect 
Dictionary  gives  :  Wamble,  to  rumble  ;  to  roll ;  to  stir  uneasily  ;  used 
of  the  intestines  or  of  food  in  the  stomach. 

169.  B  has  colon  after  him. 

174.  He  will  runne  euery  foote,  —  Every  foot,  incessantly.  The  expres 
sion  is  obsolete.  —  Such  a  worke  they  made  sometime  in  chafing 
and  frying  their  bodies  against  a  good  fire,  but  euery  foot  in  bringing 
them  abroad  into  the  hot  sunne.  Holland,  Pliny  II,  248.  (N.  E.  D.) 

1 86.  A  Mar  chant  of  ill  ventures,  one  who  buys  speculative  goods, 
who  undertakes  risky  aflairs. 

191.  /  commit  you.  Elliptical  for  '  I  commit  you  to  God. '  —  I  com 
mit  your  grace.  Dekker,  The  Honest  Whore,  Part  the  second  IV,  2. 
(Mermaid  Series,  p.  267.)  —  And  so  I  commit  you  to  the  tuition  of 
God.  Much  Ado  I,  i.  282. 

196.  Sildome.  See  Horn,  Hist.  Neuenglische  Grammatik  §  35. 

227.  Misconster.  For  this  form  see  the  interesting  note  under  construe 
in  N.  E.  D. 

235.  My  hart  cannot  away  with  griefe.  Cannot  away  with  cannot  bear, 
endure.  —  Jonson,  Cynthias  Reuells  IV,  5  :  Of  all  Nymphs  i'  the  court, 
I  cannot  away  with  her. 

244.  See  note  to  List  of  Characters. 

247,  8.  Be  Judge  With  all  indifference  in  these  discontents-  Indifference, 
impartiality.  —  I  thought  it  fit  amongst  so  many  Worthies,  whose 
lines  haue  already  been  both  acted  and  printed,  his  life  hauing 
already  bin  acted  with  good  applause,  to  be  likewise  worthy  the 
printing ;  Hoping  that  you  will  censure  indifferently  of  it.  The  Valiant 
Welshman-  To  the  ingenvovs  reader  28-33.  —  Cp.  John  II,  579. 

275.  Progedie  for  prodigy.  The  second  quarto  has  :  a  Progedy. 

278.  It  thou  wilt  pleasure  me,  gratify  me,  fulfil  my  wishes.  Eastward 
Hoe,  II,  2  :  In  a  greater  matter  I  will  pleasure  him,  but  not  in  this. 
Cp.  Dutch  pleizieren* 

279.  Cp.  Sorrow  and  an  evil  life  maketh  soon  an  old  wife-  Bohn's 
Proverbs,  i33. 

288.  Exeunt  should  be  exit,  referring   only  to  Yong  Arthur.  Yong 
Lusam   lingers  behind  to   utter  the  stereotype   moral  couplet,   and 
Mistris  Arthur   soliloquizes  on  her  husband's   cruel   words  before 
going  in  to  dinner. 

289.  You  too  much  affect  this  euil.  Affect  has  here  the  obsolete  sense 
of  '  aim  at,  aspire  to,  make  for'.  Cp.  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  affect. 

297-  Next  to  my  owne  souks  health  I  tender  him-  Tender,  to  regard,  to 
hold  dear.  —  By  my  life,  I  do  ;  which  I  tender  dearly.  As  you  like  it, 


8g 

V,  2.  77-  ~~  Which  name  I  tender  as  dearly  as  my  own.  Romeo  and 
Juliet  III,  i  ;  74. 

3io.  Happily.  The  second  quarto  has  happly.  The  meaning  is  of 
course  the  same. 

3 1 3,  4.  To  make  the  flame  of  hatred  burne  a  fresh,  The  heate  of  this  dis- 
sention  might  scorch  vs.  Cp.  Frank,  Shakcspeare-Grammalik  §  498. 

322.  The  mark  of  interrogation  should  come  after  againe,  of  which 
there  are  traces  in  the  second  quarto. 

323.  The  second  quarto  has  :  nay,  we  will  in,  that's  sure. 

327.  Not  behold  them  ere  our  backe  returne?  Henry  V.  V,  Chor.  41.  Till 
Harryes  backe  returne  againe  to  France.  Cp.  Modern  English  back- 
answer.  Pett  Ridge,  Over  the  way,  VI.  No  one  ever  got  a  back -answer 
out  of  you. 

332.  /  knock  in  any  case.  Aye,  knock  in  any  case.  The  second  quarto 
has  a  comma  after  /. 

333.  Twos  well  you  put  it  in  mind  to  knock.  The  line  does  not  scan; 
I  suppose  my  has  dropped  out  before  mind.  The  second  quarto  has  : 
Twas  well  you  put  it  in  minde  to  knock  ? 

338.  Are  we  such  Jooles  to  make  our  selues  so  straunge-  Strange,  not  fami 
liar,  distant.  Roister  Doister,  V,  6  :  R.  Royster.  Thei  wer  not  angry 
then.  M-  Mery.  Yes  at  first,  and  made  strange. 

342.  In  what  cue  sir  do  you  find  your  hart-  Cue,  humour,  disposition, 
mood.  The  Queen  (Materialien  XIII)  3oi5  :  Heark  ye,  your  lady  is 
going  the  way  of  all  flesh.  And  so  is  that  schollar  with  you  me- 
thinkes,  though  not  in  the  same  cue,  is  'a  not  ?  —  N.  E.  D.  has  a 
quotation  from  Nath-  Hawthorne.  The  second  quarto  has  kew. 
35 1.  B.  has  a  colon  after  face. 

362-  Melancholy  has,  as  was  usual  then,  the  accent  on  the  penul 
timate.  It  was  fashionable  at  that  period  to  be  melancholy,  or  at 
least  to  seem  to  be  so. 

Tie  not  betray  you, 
Although  you  be  but  extraordinary, 
And  haue  it  onely  in  title,  it  sufficeth. 
Go  home,  be  melancholique  too,  or  mad- 

The  Foxe,  V,  3. 

Hence,  all  you  vain  Delights  ! 
As  short  as  are  the  nights 

Wherein  you  spend  your  folly  ! 
There's  nought  in  this  life  sweet 
(If  Man  were  wise  to  see  't !) 
But  only  Melancholy  ! 
O,  sweetest  Melancholy  I 


go 

Welcome,  folded  arms  and  fixed  eyes  ! 
A  sigh  that  piercing,  mortifies  ! 
A  look  that's  fastened  to  the  ground  ! 
A  tongue  chained  up,  without  a  sound  ! 
Fountain-heads  and  pathless  groves, 
Places  which  pale  Passion  loves  ; 
Moonlight  walks,  when  all  the  fowls 
Are  warmly  housed,  save  bats  and  owls  ; 
A  midnight  bell ;  a  parting  groan. 
These  are  the  sounds  we  feed  upon  ! 
Then,  stretch  our  bones  in  a  still  gloomy  valley  ! 
Nothing's  so  dainty  sweet  as  lovely  Melancholy  ! 

John  Fletcher. 

Cp.  the  burden  of  Burton's  Abstract  of  Melancholy  : 
All  my  joys  to  this,  are  folly  ; 
Nought  so  sweet  as  Melancholy  ! 

And  I  will  be  more  prowd,  and  melancholy,  and  gentleman-like, 
then  I  haue  beene  :  Tie  ensure  you.  Euery  Man  in  his  Humour  I, 
3.  392,3  (Materialien  VII,  Folio.) 

Haue  you  a  stoole  there,  to  be  melancholy'  vpon?  ibid.  Ill,  i. 
1174,  5. 

Cousin,  is  it  well?  am  I  melancholy  inough  ?  ibid.  Ill,  i,  1181. 
For  further  information  v.  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  melancholy,  and  Henry  B. 
Wheatley's  edition  of  Every  Man  in  his  Humour,  p.  i3j. 

362-373.  There  is  some  contradiction  in  these  lines.  In  1.  363  he 
describes  himself  as  '  a  goer  without  garters ',  and  in  1.  36g  he  men 
tions  *  garters '  among  the  things  he  wore.  Evidently  Fuller  wishes 
to  indicate  that,  being  a  humorist,  he  one  day  wore  busk-points  as 
a  beau  who  cared  for  bracelets  and  earrings,  and  the  next  day  went 
without  garters  and  hatband,  careless  of  his  attire.  Hatbants  arid 
garters  were  often  very  costly.  For  a  description  of  the  apparel  of 
an  Elizabethan  dandy,  read  the  description  Fastidious  Briske  gives 
of  his  duel  with  Signior  Luculento  in  Euery  Man  out  of  his  Humour, 
(MaterialienVll),  where  a  'gold  cable  hatband,  then  new  come  vp ' 
is  mentioned.  Also  Cvnthias  Reuells  (Materialien  VII)  2880-2990. 

362.  Humorist.  A  person  subject  to  '  humours  '  or  fancies  ;  a  fan 
tastical  or  whimsical  person  ;  a  faddist.  (N.  E.  D.)  For  the  word 
humour  as  used  by  Jonson  and  his  contemporaries  cp.  Euery  Man 
out  of  his  Humour  (Materialien  VII)  11.  2i5-268.  --  For  humorist  cp. 
ibid-  II,  3.  I2o5,6  :  Cord.  He  makes  congies  to  his  wife  in  geome- 
tricall  proportions.  Mit>  Is  't  possible  there  should  be  any  such 
Humorist  ? 
364.  A  busk-point  wearer-  Busk,  a  piece  of  wood  or  whalebone,  worn 


down  the  front  of  the  stays,  to  keep  them  straight.  It  was  also  used 
by  dandies.  The  busk-point  is  the  lace,  with  its  tag,  which  secured 
the  end  of  the  busk.  Vide  Nares'  Glossary.  —  Dekker,  The  Shoemaker's 
Holiday  V,  2  :  He  shall  not  have  so  much  as  a  busk-point  from  thee. 
(Mermaid  Series  p.  72)- 

365.  Bracelets  of  hair  were  lovetokens  given  both  by  ladies  and 
gentlemen.  In  Euery  Man  out  of  his  Humour  Fastidious  Briske  says  :  I 
was  inuited  this  morning  ere  I  was  out  my  of  bed,  by  a  beuie  of 
ladies,  to  a  banquet  :  whence  it  was  almost  one  of  Hercvles  labours 

for  me,  to  come  away I  know  they  'le  take  it  very  ill,  especially 

one,  that  gaue  me  this  bracelet  of  her  haire  but  ouernight,  and  this 
pearle  another  gaue  me  from  her  fore-head,  ibid-  11.  2980-85.  Gifford 
(Cunningham's  edition,  vol.  I,  p.  118)  in  a  note  to  this  passage  says  : 
« (But)  it  was  not  the  ladies  only  who  bestowed  them ;  the  gentle 
men  appear  to  have  been  equally  lavish  of  their  lovelocks.  In  The 
Ball,  Lucina  is  very  pleasant  with  poor  sir  Ambrose  on  this  subject  : 

Luc-  Had  you  not 
A  head  once  ? 

Amb.  A  head  !  I  have  one  still- 
Luc.  Of  hair,  I  mean  ; 

Favours  have  gleaned  too  much  :  pray,  pardon  me, 
If  it  were  mine,  they  should  go  look  their  bracelets, 
Or  stay  till  the  next  crop. 

366.  For  the  custom  of  men  wearing  rings  or  jewels  in  their  ears 
cp.  the  following  passages.  Marston,  Malecontent  1,6:  Give  me  those 
jewels  of  your  ears,  to  receive  my  inforced  duty.  —  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  A  King  and  no  King,  I,  i  :  Pray  thee  tell  me  were  hadst 
thou  that  same  jewel  in  thine  ear?  (The  person  addressed  is  Arba- 
ces,  King  of  Iberia.) 

36g.  French  garters  are  mentioned  in  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour, 
26i-5  : 

But  that  a  Rooke,  in  wearing  a  pyed  feather, 
The  cable  hat-band,  or  the  three-pild  ruffe, 
A  yard  of  shoe-tie,  or  the  Switzers  knot 
On  his  French  garters,  should  affect  a  Humour  ! 
O,  'tis  more  then  most  ridiculous. 

Cp.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Honest  Mans  Fortune  V,  3.  —  Bands 
were  collars  or  rufts ;  v.  N.  E.  D>  i.  v.  —  For  gold,  sticht  caps  read  : 
gold-sticht  caps- 

371.  Divide  :  But  when  I  lookt  into  the  glasse  of  Reason,  Strait 
I  began  to  loath  that  femall  brauery,  /And  henceforth  studie  to  cry 
peccaui/  to  the  world.  Hazlitt-Dodsley  prints  studied  which  if  read 
studied  improves  the  line- 


92 

378.  Sonet  must  not  be  taken  in  the  restricted  sense  in  which  we 
use  it  now,  but  in  the  wider  meaning  of  song,  common  at  the  time. 
The  eighth  song  of  Clement  Robinson's  well-known  A  Handefull  of 
pleasant  Delites,  1684,   is  A  new  Sonet  of  Pyramus  and  Thisbie  in  seven 
stanzas  of  twelve  lines  each.  Barnabe  Googe's  Eglogs,  Epytaphes,  and 
Sonettes,  i563,  does  not  contain  a  single  sonnet  in  our  sense  of  the 
word.  In  i58y   appeared  Psalms,  sonets,  and  songs  of  sadness  and  piety, 
By  William  Byrd.  After  the  tenth  '  psalm '  we  read  :  «  Here  endeth 
the    Psalmes,    and   followeth   the  Sonets   and    Pastorales  ».  These 
*  sonets  '  again  are  songs  of  varying  length,  set  to  music. 

379.  A  leg  is  a  bow,  an  obeisance.  To  make  a  leg,  to  bow,  to  make 
an   obeisance.  Brewer,   The  Love-sick   King,   II,   i   :  You  '1  make   legs 
to    him-  —   A  New  Way   to  pay  Old  Debts  I,  3  :  Why,  you  slaves, 
Created  only  to  make  legs,  and  cringe.  —  The  Honest  Whore,  A.  IV,  3  : 
Be  ready  with    your   legs   then,  let   me    see  How   courtesy  would 
become  him.  —  ibid.  B.  II,  3  :  Then  guard  you  from  this  blow,  For 
I  play  all  at  legs,  but  'tis  thus  low.  (Kneels.) 

Congies.  Only  the  forms  congee,  and  more  recently  conge,  are  now 
used.  The  word  is  archaic  except  in  the  dialects-  Cp.  Dialect  Dictionary, 
and  for  the  history  of  the  word  and  its  forms  N.  E.  D. 

38i.  Antick  queint  formalitie,  absurd,  affected  formality.  I  believe 
quaint  has  the  sense  here,  given  under  6  in  the  N.  E.  D.  viz.  care 
fully  elaborated,  highly  elegant  or  refined,  full  of  fancies  or  conceits, 
affected.  —  The  second  quarto  has  the  spelling  quaint. 

382'  Occasion,  opportunity.  Cp.  Weele  take  occasion  by  the  vantage. 
Eastward  Hoe  III,  i-  77. 

383-  She  dashes  euery  profer  with   a  frowne.  To  dash,  destroy,  ruin, 
confound,  bring  to  nothing,  frustrate,   spoil  (a   design,   enterprise, 
hope,  etc.)  Now  obsolete  exept  in  to  dash  any  one's  hopes.  N.  E.  D. 

384-  art  omitted  in  the  second  quarto. 

386,7-  Were  I  his  judge  —  the  rest  of  you  may  bemoan  his  fate  — 
his  doom  should  be  to  lie  alone  for  ever.  Notice  the  rime  here  and 
in  11.  3go,  3gi- 

392-412-  Three  times  in  the  course  of  this  play  Fuller,  proud  of 
his  knowledge  of  women  and  their  ways,  dips  into  his  reminiscen 
ces  and  narrates  an  amorous  adventure,  the  first  time  to  convince 
Anselm  that  one  should  not  take  a  woman  at  her  word  when  she 
says  nay;  the  second  time  to  prove  that  women  will  forswear 
themselves  ;  and  the  third  time,  for  the  benefit  of  the  assembled 
guests,  to  give  an  instance  of  the  hypocrisy  of  Puritan  girls.  Each 
of  these  episodes  is  written  in  sixains  of  the  type,  though  not  of  the 
melody,  of  the  Shepheards  Calender  and  of  Venus  and  Adoinis.  LI.  392- 


93 

412  can  be  arranged  in  four  stanzas  of  five  iambs  each,  riming 
a  b  a  b  c  c.  All  the  endings  are  strong.  LI.  Ti33-n64  consist  of  five 
stanzas  of  the  same  construction  ;  the  only  difference  is  that  weak 
endings  occur  and  that  a  tag  consisting  of  a  couplet  d  d  is  added 
to  the  last  stanza.  Finally  11.  1671-1716  consist  of  five  of  these  stan 
zas  and  a  sixth  consisting,  as  in  the  previous  case,  of  eight  lines, 
with  this  difference  that  the  final  couplet  b  b  belongs  to  the  body 
of  the  stanza.  Here  also  weak  endings  occur.  It  is  not  improbable 
that  the  first  of  these  episodes  was  moulded  upon  the  last.  The 
subjects  are  analogous  and  the  opening  words  are  the  same.  The 
reason  why  the  first  should  be  an  imitation,  not  vice  versa,  is  that 
the  last  episode  also  occurs  by  itself,  be  it  in  a  slightly  different 
form.  In  Merry  Drolhrie,  Comfileat.  The  First  Part.  London,  1691 
(p.  77  of  J.  Woodfall  Ebsworth's  edition),  occurs  the  following  song  : 

The  way  to  wooe  a  zealous  Lady. 
I  came  unto  a  Puritan  to  wooe, 
And  roughly  did  salute  her  with  a  kiss  ; 
She  shov'd  me  from  her  when  I  came  unto  ; 
Brother,  by  yea  and  nay  I  like  not  this  : 
And  as  I  her  with  amorous  talk  saluted, 
My  Articles  with  scripture  she  confuted. 

She  told  me  that  I  was  too  much  prophane, 
And  not  devout  neither  in  speech  nor  gesture  : 
And  I  could  not  one  word  answer  again, 
Nor  had  not  so  much  grace  to  call  her  Sister ; 
For  ever  something  did  offend  her  there, 
Either  my  broad  beard,  hat,  or  my  long  hair. 

My  Band  was  broad,  my  'Parrel  was  not  plain, 
My  Points  and  Girdle  made  the  greatest  show, 
My  Sword  was  odious,  and  my  Belt  was  vain, 
My  Spanish  shoee  was  cut  too  broad  at  toe ; 
My  Stockings  light,  my  Garters  ty'd  too  long, 
My  Gloves  perfum'd,  and  had  a  scent  too  strong. 

I  left  my  pure  Mistris  for  a  space, 

And  to  a  snip  snap  Barber  straight  went  I ; 

I  cut  my  hair,  and  did  my  corps  uncase 

Of  'Parrels  pride  that  did  offend  the  eye  ; 

My  high  crown'd  Hat,  my  little  beard  also, 

My  pecked  Band,  my  Shooes  were  sharp  at  toe. 


94 

Gone  was  my  Sword,  my  Belt  was  laid  aside, 
And  I  transform'd  both  in  looks  and  speech  ; 
My  'Parrel  plain,  my  Cloak  was  void  of  pride, 
My  little  Skirts,  my  metamorphos'd  breech, 
My  Stockings  black,  my  Garters  were  ty'd  shorter, 
My  Gloves  no  scent ;  thus  march'd  I  to  her  Porter. 

The  Porter  spi'd  me,  and  did  lead  me  in, 
VVhere  his  sweet  Mistris  reading  was  a  chapter  : 
Peace  to  this  house,  and  all  that  are  therein, 
Which  holy  words  with  admiration  wrapt  her  ; 
And  ever,  as  I  came  her  something  nigh, 
She,  being  divine,  turn'd  up  the  white  of  th'eye. 

Quoth  I,  dear  Sister,  and  that  lik'd  her  well ; 

I  kist  her,  and  did  pass  to  some  delight, 

She,  blushing,  said,  that  long-tail'd  men  would  tell ; 

Quoth  I  (,)  I'll  be  as  silent  as  the  night ; 

And  lest  the  wicked  now  should  have  a  sight 

Of  what  we  do,  faith,  I'll  put  out  the  light. 

O  do  not  swear,  quoth  she,  but  put  it  out, 
Because  that  I  would  have  you  save  your  oath, 
In  truth,  you  shall  but  kiss  me  without  doubt ; 
In  troth,  quoth  I,  here  will  we  rest  us  both  ; 
Swear  you  (,)  quoth  she,  in  troth  ?  Had  you  not  sworn 
I'd  not  have  don't  (,)  but  took  it  in  foul  scorn. 

It  is  also  found  on  pp.  194,5  of  Rump  :  or  an  exact  collection  Of  the 
Choicest  Poems  and  Songs  relating  to  the  Late  Times.  London,  1662,  and 
in  Loyal  Songs  I,  122.  As  long  as  an  earlier  form  has  not  been  found 
the  episode  in  our  play  must  be  considered  as  the  original,  and  the 
songs  in  the  Merry  Drollerie  and  The  Rump  as  the  imitations,  but 
the  probabilities  are  much  greater  that  the  reverse  took  place  :  that 
the  play- wright  appropriated  a  popular  song.  The  Dutch  poet  J.  J. 
Starter  —  an  Englishman  by  birth  -  -  adapted  the  subject  in  his 
famous  Menniste  Vryagie,  which  appeared  in  1621  in  his  book  of  airs 
Friesche  Lusthof.  In  one  important  detail  Starter's  adaptation  agrees 
with  the  redaction  of  the  episode  in  our  play.  In  the  last  stanza  in 
the  play  the  man  says  :  «  I  felt  a  bed  there  as  I  gipapt  about,  In 
troath  quoth  I,  here  will  we  rest  vs  both.  »  The  Dutch  version  has  : 
Doen  knoffeld'  ick  rondom  in  't  duyster,  totter  tijd  Dat  ick  een 
bedde  vond  ;  ick  nam  haer  aen  mijn  zijd,  En  zey  :  «  voorwaer,  mijn 
Lief!  hier  willen  wij,  met  lusten  En  vrolijcke  geneught,  van  avond 


95 

t'  samen  rusten,  »  In  the  other  version  no  mention  is  made  of  a 
bed.  That  the  subject  was  popular  in  the  days  of  intense  hatred 
between  the  Cavaliers  and  the  Puritans,  is  evident  from  the  fact 
that  it  was  treated  in  quite  a  different  manner  and  composed  in  an 
entirely  different  metre  by  the  author  of  the  following  song  in 
Choyce  Drollery.  To  which  are  added  the  extra  songs  of  Merry  Drollery ',  1661. 
Edited  by  J.  Woodfall  Ebsworth.  MDCCCLXXV1,  pp.  I95,6. 

A  Puritan. 
A  Puritan  of  late, 
And  eke  a  holy  Sister, 
A  Catechizing  sate, 
And  fain  he  would  have  kist  her 

For  his  Mate. 

But  she  a  Babe  of  grace 
A  Child  of  reformation, 
Thought  kissing  a  disgrace, 
A  Limbe  of  prophanation 
In  that  place. 

He  swore  by  yea  and  nay 
He  would  have  no  denial, 
The  Spirit  would  it  so, 
She  should  endure  a  tryal 
Ere  she  go. 

Why  swear  you  so,  quoth  she  ? 
Indeed,  my  holy  Brother, 
You  might  have  forsworn  be 
Had  it  been  to  another  (,) 
Not  to  me. 

He  laid  her  on  the  ground, 
His  Spirits  fell  a  ferking, 
Her  zeal  was  in  a  sound 
He  edified  her  Merkin 
Upside  down- 

And  when  their  leave  they  took, 
And  parted  were  asunder, 
My  Muse  did.,then  awake, 
And  I  turn'd  Ballad-monger 
For  their  sake. 


It  is  also  evident  from  the  ninth  stanza  of  the  very  witty  but  very 
improper  Character  of  a  Mistris,  better  known  as  My  Mistris  is  a  skittle- 
cock  from  its  opening  line. 

My  Mistris  is  a  Puritan, 

She  will  not  swear  an  oath, 
But  for  to  lye  with  any  man, 

She  is  not  very  loath  ; 
But  pure  to  pure,  and  there's  no  sin, 
There's  nothing  lost  that  enters  in,  Fa,  la,  la. 

394  ff.  Notice  the  epanaphora. 

398.  The  form  strived  occurs  both  in  Elizabethan  and  modern 
English,  though  usually  it  is  not  mentioned  in  the  grammars.  Religio 
Medici  p.  3o  (Temple  Classics)  :  He  strived  to  undermine  the  edifice  of 
my  Faith.  —  If  we  lived  and  strived  toward  an  end,  the  mind  would 
not  smart  so  often  as  the  body.  Max  Pemberton.  The  Lady  Evelyn, 
(Tauchnitz)  p.  167.  —  Antagonised  by  one  who  strived  for  the  virtues 
she  did  not  possess.  Pam,  by  Baroness  von  Hutten.  W.  Heinemann 
1907.  I,  i.  —  I  take  it  the  two  weak  forms  are  not  identical.  The 
Elizabethan  strived  is  a  continuation  of  the  original  weak  form,  not 
quite  ousted  by  the  younger  strong  form,  whereas  the  modern  strived 
is  a  new  formation.  For  strived,  and  catcht  in  1.  400,  v.  Franz,  Shakes 
peare  Grammatik  §  161. 

4o5.  The  form  wroong  occurs  by  the  side  of  wrung  just  as  roong  is 
found  by  the  side  of  rung-  Wroong  rimes  with  tongue,  for  the  pronun 
ciation  of  which  cf.  Horn,  Historische  Neuenglische  Grammatik  §  61. — Cp. 
Heywood,  The  Wise-woman  of  Hogsdon  V  (sc.  4  in  Mermaid  series)  : 
Her  that  I  married,  I  wrong  twice  by  the  finger. 

407.  A  booke,  the  Bible  to  swear  upon.  Cp.  To  kiss  the  book.  — 
Merry  Wives  I,  4.  i56  :  I'll  be  sworn  on  a  book. 

Strait.  The  second  quarto  has  straight, 

414.  Sad,  grave,  serious.  Cf.  N.  E.  D. 

415.  Sedj  see  Horn  Hist,  neuengl.  Grammatik  §  117. 

417.  This  transitive  use  of  cling  is  uncommon.  The  N.  E.  D.  has 
the  following  example  from  Hey  wood's  Rape  of  Lucrece  V.  194.  ((Temp 
tations  offered,  I  still  scorne.  Deny'd  ;  I  cling  them  still  »,  where  it 
is  used  elliptical ly.  For  use  with  to  cp.  ibid.  8. 

421.  To  frame  was  formerly  used  for  'to  direct  (one's  steps),  to  set 
out  upon  (a  journey) '.  Cf.  N.  E.  D.  from  which  I  take  the  following 
example  :  Pilgrimage  I'l  frame  Vnto  the  blessed  Maid  of  Walsing- 
hame.  Heywood.  Dial.  i.  Wks-  1874.  VI-  100. 


97 

425-  This  prepositional  use  of  the  adv.  out  has  at  all  times  been 
rare.  I  add  some  recent  examples  to  those  given  in  the  N.  E.  D.  - 
Punch,  June  12,  1899,  p.  276  :  When  you've  smoked  your  choice 
Havanah,  your  Burmah,  or  your  Bock,  When  you've  done  with 
knocking  ashes  out  your  briar.  Baroness  von  Hutten,  Pant,  1907, 
p.  223  :  I'd  go  out  the  back  door.  —  In  combination  with  I'M  we  find 
out  used  without  of  following.  H.  Sweet,  The  Old  Chanel  :  A  flock 
of  jack-daws  and  starlings  flew  round  the  tower,  and  flew  I'M  and  out 
various  holes  and  windows-  —  Tennyson.  Lancelot  and  Elaine  :  Then 
the  war  That  thunder'd  I'M  and  out  the  gloomy  skirts  Of  Celidon  the 
forest.  —  Punch,  i3  Sept.  1899.  /;/  and  out  the  Eagle,  That's  the  way 
the  money  goes,  And  off  goes  the  vessel,  —  For  this  we  sometimes 
find  out  and  I'M  of,  e.  g.  Anthony  Hope,  The  Prisoner  of  Zenda,  X  : 
Sept  was  out  and  in  oj  the  throng.  -  -  I  have  given  these  modern 
examples  because  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik  §  388,  says  that  out 
as  a  preposition  is  «  langst  veraltet  ».  It  is  safer  to  call  it  archaic. 

433.  /  mary,  ay  marry.  Cf.  Englische  Studien  XXIV,  204  f.  B  has 
marry- 

461-  The  second  quarto  has  contrary. 

465.  This  use  of  to  object  with  simple  object  is  archaic-  Cf.  N-  E.  D. 
object  v.  5. 

473.  Checks,  rebukes,  reproofs,  bitter  reproaches.  Cf.  N.  E.  D.  check 
M,  3,  4. 

481-  The  second  quarto  has  seldome.  See  1.  196- 

485.  Read  :  Well,  goe  too,  wild  oates !  For  Wild  Oats  as  a  name  for 
a  dissolute  young  fellow,  vide  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  oats,  4. 

486-  Reckoning  booke,  account-book,  is  adduced  in  Webster  and  in 
N.  E.  D.  only  from  Johnson's  Dictionary. 

507.  Cp.  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona  IV,  3-  19  :  No  grief  did  ever  come 
so  near  thy  heart.  —  Measure  for  Measure  V,  394  :  Your  brother's  death 
sits  at  your  heart. 

5i3.  Least,  second  quarto  lest. 

620.  Guests,  second  quarto  guest- 

527.  He  riots  it.  Franz,  Shakespeare-Grammatik  §  161.  I  subjoin  some 
examples  from  Elizabethan  dramatists. 

Greenes  Tu  Quoque,  or,  The  Cittie  Gallant-  Hazlitt-Dodsley  XI, 
p.  271  :  For  I  will  rather  totter,  hang  in  clean  linen,  Than  live  to  scrub 
it  out  in  lousy  linings.  —  Tom  Tyler  and  his  Wife  (Museum  Dramatists) 
p.  54  :  Then  I  will...  tile  it  no  more.  —  Frier  Bacon  and  Frier  Bongay 
i3g6  :  I  cannot  tricke  it  vp  with  poesies.  —  Grim  the  Collier  of  Croydon. 
Hazlitt-Dodsley  p.  443.  Well, here  in  Croydon  will  I  first  begin  To  frolic 
'/among  the  country  lobs.  —  Faire  Em  V,  j.  i3i,2  :  Let  Maistres  nice 


98 

go  saint  it  where  shee  list,  And  coyly  quaint  it  with  dissembling  face.— 
Spanish  Tragedie  II,  3.  3  :  Although  she  coy  it  as  becomes  her  kinde. — 
Arden  of  Feversham  I,  i.  3o  :  Who  bravely  jets  it  in  his  silken  gown.— 
Knight  of  the  Burning  Pestle,  V,  3  :  Where  I  did  flourish  it.  —  Euery  Man 
out  of  his  Humour  V,  2.  1.  3477  :  What,  and  shall  we  see  him  clowne 
it?  —  The  Silent  Woman  II,  6.  1017  :  How  the  slaue  doth  latine  it! 

532.  Wemen,  second  quarto  women.  —  For  most  v.  Franz  §  68. 

534.  dreame  ;  evidently  a  mistake  for  drachm,  dram.  Also  in  B. 

541.  A  comma  after  Loue,  as  B.  has,  makes  the  sense  clear. 

642-4.  The  punctuation  is  careless  ;  place  a  full  stop  after  ends,  and 
a  mark  of  interrogation  after  aime. 

544.  In  The  Captives ;  or,  The  Lost  Recovered  (Bullen's  Old  English 
Plays  IV,  i36),  ascribed  to  Heywood,  there  is  a  similar  uncommon 
use  of  upshot :  hee,  no  questione,  That  sett  mee  on  to  compasse  this 
my  will,  May  when  the  up-shoots  comes  assist  me  still.  —  The  only 
other  example  that  I  have  come  across  is  from  Locrine  1122  : 
Which  aimes  at  nothing  but  a  golden  crowne, 
The  only  vpshot  of  mine  enterprises. 

546.  The  printer  has  not  divided  this  line  properly,  and  a  is  to  be 
cancelled  ;  read  : 

What  circumstance 

Doth  the  begin  with,  what  an  Asse  is  he, 
B  What  a  circumstance  begins  he  with,  what  an  Asse  is  he. 

549.  The  second  quarto  hasfowle. 

557.  Once,  at  all-  For  once  '  ever,  at  any  time,  at  all',  vide  N.  E.  D. 
once,  9,  and  especially  Schmidt  Shakespeare-Lexicon,  once,  6.  The 
meaning  of  once  has  become  much  restricted  ;  in  the  sixteenth  and 
seventeenth  centuries  it  had  emotional  senses,  some  of  which  Mo 
dern  Dutch  eens  and  Modern  German  einmal,  mal  still  have.  These 
emotional  senses  of  once  have  been  collected  under  one  head  in  the 
N.  E>  D.,  which  prevents  the  various  shades  of  meaning  from  being 
done  justice  to. 

56i.  O  zoanes.  B  has  the  form  zownes.  I  suppose  zoanes  is  a  misprint 
for  zounes.  Other  forms  in  use  in  the  sixteenth  century  were  swowiis, 
swouns,  zounds,  sowns,  zoom.  For  examples  vide  EngL  Stud.  XXIV,  53,  4. 

576.  He  means  :  I  warned  him  to  do  the  contrary. 

577.  As  you  haue  beene  should  have  been  printed  as  a  new  line. 

579.  Something  appears  to  be  wrong  here.  Evidently  this  line  is 
spoken  by  Anselme  as  Dodsley  has  pointed  out  (Hazlitt-Dodsley 
IX,  24.)  Perhaps  it  ought  to  come  after  58i. 

587.  Thorow,  which  is  also  in  B,  is  monosyllabic- 

58g.  Once,  merely,  only.  Vide  557- 


99 

5gg.  For  this  construction  v.  Franz,  Shakespearc-Grawmatik  §  5oi. 

601.  Contributed,  which  is  also  in  B,  cannot  be  correct,  none  of  the 
meanings  given  in  N.  E-  D>  suiting  the  context-  I  propose  to  read 
distributed. 

602.  The  metre  is  wrong ;  perhaps  we  ought  to  read    '  insatiate  ' 
as  in  the  title  of  Marston's  play  The  Insatiate  Countess. 

6i3-  For  the  omission  of  a  before  pity  cp.  Tis  pity  their  boord  is 
no  broader.  Sir  Gyles  Goosecappe,  i538  (Materialien  XXVI). 
619.  Directions  is  four  syllables. 

621.  B  has  honest. 

622.  he  would  give  better  sense.  B  has  also  she. 

626.  frustrate  is  adjective  :  clean  frustrate. 

627.  A  transitive  use  of  persist  is  not  mentioned  in  N.  E.  D.  The 
only  other  case  I  know  is  Antony  and  Cleopatra  V,  i.  3o  : 

And  strange  it  is, 

That  nature  must  compel  us  to  lament 
Our  most  persisted  deeds. 

628.  proue,  experience.   Vide  Schmidt,  Shakespeare-Lexicon,  p.  914  b. 
-  Hazlitt-Dodsley  has  changed  this  into  '  I  prove  this  will '. 

629.  Amminadab  is  a  name  in  the  Old  Testament,  Exodus  6,  23,  Ruth 
4,  20.  The  pedant  had  long  been  a  favourite   figure  on  the  stage  ; 
suffice  it  to  mention  Lidus  in  Plautus'  Bacchides ;  Cleandro  in  Arios- 
to's  Suppositi ;  Belo's  Gli  Ingannati  and  Aretino's  Marescalco  Soporijico 
and  Ipocrito.  Cp.  Max  J.  Wolff,  Die  Komodien  des  Pietro  Aretino,  Ger- 
manisch-Romanische  Monatschrift  III,  264. 

634,  63y.  B.  has  qua,  bona.  The  meaning  of  634  is  not  quite  clear  ; 
perhaps  caceris  stands  for  laceris.  The  sense  would  then  be  :  which 
you  should  have  left  in  your  torn  books.  The  strange  sense  of  deser- 
uisse  makes  it  probable  that  we  have  to  do  with  a  bad  pentameter, 
made  by  the  schoolmaster.  For  decat  read  decet.  —  The  schoolmaster 
is  repeatedly  made  to  blunder. 

636-  The  schoolmaster  addresses  the  rod  as  '  Mistris  Virga '. 

640.  Campis.  In  answer  to  a  query  asking  for  proof  of  the  early 
use  of  «  campus  »  in  England  in  the  sense  of  playing-field,  Prof.  G. 
C.  Moore  Smith  draws  attention  to  this  passage.  (Notes  and  Queries 
10  S  XII.  July  3,  1909. 

646.  For  this  use  of  'of  cp.  Bartholomew  FairV,  3  :  And  here  is 
young  Leander,  is  as  proper  an  actor  of  his  inches. 

647.  Qui  mihi,  no  doubt  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  in  the  grammar. 

649.  B  has  Sod  ales. 

650.  B  has  venientes. 

653-  Ladie  Willowby,  a  humorous  name  for  a  willow  rod,  no  doubt 


100 

with  allusion  to  the  well-known  ballad  and  tune  of  Lord  Willoughby 
(Lord  Willoughby's  March,  —  Welcome  Home.)  Cp.  Chappell,  Old 
English  Popular  Music  I,  i52. 

664.  B  has  the  correct  Diluculo> 

655.  B  has  sakiberimum- 

660.  B  has  vents. 

662-  B  hasjuisti. 

669.  This  and  similar  questions  are  from  the  old  Latin  grammars, 
in  use  at  that  time.  They  were  written  on  the  question  and  answer 
system.  Thus  Philippi  Melanchthonis  Grammatica  Latino,  begins  : 
Quid  est  grammatica  ?  For  a  similar  passage  in  Hey  wood's  play 
The  Wise  Woman  of  Hogsdon.  Cp.  Introduction  p.  VI. 

671.  B  has  vntrusse. 

672.  A  play  upon  arse  and  the  answer  to  *  Quid  est  Grammatica?' 
'  Grammatica  est  ars  '. 

677.  N-  E.  D.  has  only  the  spellings  peirse,  parce  and  pearce  for  parse; 
B  has  perce.  —  For  conster  see  note  to  227.  —  ad  unguem,  accurately. 
Cp.  Horace,  Ars  Poetica  294. 

678.  B  has  :  Et  condemnato  too,  He  pardon  the- 

680.  '  What  is  proper  to  male  beings  we  call  masculine  '.  A  sen 
tence  from  the  grammar.  Place  a  comma  after  dicas. 

682.  miscall,  to  call  names  is  now  only  used  in  the  dialects. 
Marybones,   marrowbones.  For  this    obsolete  form  of   marrow,  vide 

N.  E.  D.  Cp.  Introduction  p.  VIL 

683.  Queint.  N.  E.  D.  gives  as  the  sixth  —  now  obsolete  —  sense  of 
quaint  :  Of  speech,  language,  modes  of  expression  etc.  :  Carefully 
or  ingeniously,  elaborated  ;  highly  elegant  or  refined  ;  clever,  smart; 
etc. 

686.  rostra  etc.,  the  beginning  of  an  hexameter  :  the  orator  loves 
the  rostrum. 

687.  B  gives  the  clue  to  the  right  meaning  :  it  has  a  disard  for  a 
disert  of  our  text.  Dizard,  variously  written  dizzard,  disarde,  dysarde, 
diserde,    dissardt,  dyzerde,  dyzert   (to  which  the  form    in    our  text  ap 
proaches),    dissard(e),    dizard(e),   disard,    is    a    foolish    fellow,    idiot, 
blockhead.  Vide  N.  E.  D. 

691.  tres  sequunlur  evidently  a  grammatical  term  for  what  follows, 
where  the  Latin  is  given  for  three  words  riming  in  English  :  hog, 
dog,  frog  ;  bee,  knee,  Dee. 

692.  Of  course  Pipkin  purposely  mixes  up  the  translations. 

694.  Cp.  379. 

695.  For  examples  of  to  for  till  v.  Shakespeare-Lexicon  i.  v.  to  3. 

697.  Probably  :  viginti  minis  usus  est  mihi  :  I  want  twenty  minac 
=  £5. 


101 

696.  I  believe  bed  is  not  a  mistake  of  the  first  boy,  but  a  printer's 
error.  However,  it  is  also  in  B. 

Doctor  Dee  is  the  famous  John  Dec  (1527-1608),  astronomer,  astro 
loger  and  mathematician.  See  the  lengthy  account  in  the  Dictionary 
of  National  Biography. 

700.  Spica  is  in  reality  an  ear  of  corn. 

702.  Vergili  Ecloga  in  :  claudite  iam  rivos,  pueri  :  sat  prata  biberunt. 

704,5.  Trish-trash,  a  reduplication  of  trash,  that  which  is  worthless, 
good  for  nothing.  Similarly  be  lish  lash  is  a  reduplication  of  lash,  to 
strike  with  a  whip,  a  rod.  In  '  lish'  there  is  perhaps  a  playful  allusion 
to  leash,  to  lash  with  a  leash.  For  numerous  similar  formations,  cf. 
Fr.  Koch,  Linguistische  Allotria,  p.  58  ff,  Ablautbildungen.  I  quote  a  few 
of  the  most  common  :  chiff-chaff,  crinkum-crankum,  dilly-dally,  flim 
flam,  kit-cat,  knick-knack,  mish-mash,  pit-(a)-pat,  riff-raff,  shilly-shally, 
trim-tram,  zig-zag.  The  gradation  i-a  is  particularly  common.  Cp.  Lo- 
crine,  1192  :  If  you  be  so  plaine  mistresse  drigle  dragle,  fare  you  well. 

For  rodix  B  has  redix  but  this  gives  no  rime  to  podix.  I  suppose  rodix 
is  meant  for  a  playful  latinization  of  road  in  connection  with  the 
preceding  vbifuistis.  For  podix  read  podex. 

708.  Duck  as  a  term  of  endearment  in  addressing  a  woman  is  com- 
.mon  enough  ;  not  so  its  use  in  referring  to  a  woman  as  in  the  present 
case.  It  is  very  remarkable  that  The  Captives ;  or,  The  Lost  Recovered 
(Bullen,  Old  English  Plays  IV,  126),  ascribed  to  Hey  wood,  has:  For 
see  you  not  too  women  ?  daynty  ducks  ?  —  N.  E.  D.  has  instances  only 
of  '  duck '  as  a  term  of  address. 

711.  Pedant,  schoolmaster.  Cynthias  Reuells  III,  5,  i552  :  Your  pedant 
should  prouide  you  some  parcells  offrench,  or  some  pretty  commoditie 
of  italian  to  commence  with. 

7i3.  By  any  circumstance.  We  should  now  say  :  by  accident,  per 
chance.  Shakespeare-Lexicon,  circumstance  3.  At  the  end  of  the  line  is 
has  dropped  out.  B  has  the  word. 

719.  mentiri  non  est  meum,  a  common  example  in  grammars.  Terence, 
Heautontimorumenos  549  :  non  est  mentiri  meum. 

726.  For  *  come  '  —  become,  see  Shakespeare  Lexicon  i.  v.  come  I. 

734.  He  fears  that  Arthur  will  make  him  a  cuckold. 

737ff.  Mark  the  short  lines  and  the  rime. 

746-  One  would  expect  a  mark  of  interrogation  after  '  what '. 

767.  To  take  order,  to  take  measures  or  steps,  to  make  arrangements. 
Eastward  Hoe,  V,  i ;  212  :  Come,  He  take  order  for  your  debts  i'  the  ale 
house.  The  Divils  Charter  1445  :  what  order  tooke  you  for  his  funerall  ? 
Greenes  Tu  Quoque,  or,  The  Cittie  Gallant,  Hazlitt-Dodsley  XI,  p.  214  : 
They're  honest  men,  and  I'll  take  order  with  them.  TJie  Wise  Woman  of 


102 

Hogsdon,  I,  i  (Hey wood,  Mermaid  Series,  264)  :  Hold  me  play,  or  he 
that  hath  uncrowned  me,  I'll  take  a  speedy  order  with  him. 

782.  For  complain  upon  cp.  The  Taming  of  the  Shrew  IV,  i  ;  3i  :  Shall  I 
complain  on  thee  to  our  mistress  ? 

784.  This  use  of/a//  was  formerly  more  common  than  at  the  present 
day.  See  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  Fall  VII,  38,  3g. 

799.  I  do  not  see  any  reason  for  changing  '  how  '  into  '  now  '  with 
Hazlitt-Dodsley. 

8o5.  Vnthn/t,  good  for  nothing.  Merchant  of  Venice,  V,  I.  16  :  And 
with  an  Unthrift  Love  did  runne  from  Venice. 

8i3.  For  this  use  of  will  cp.  Shakespeare  Lexicon,  will,  3. 

817.  For  '  put  off '  =  dismiss,  discard,  cp,  Shakespeare-Lexicon  i.  v. 
put  off  (3.  g.  i.). 

818.  Here  and  in  879  B  has  cause. 

819.  B  has  a  colon  after  wine,  and  a  comma  after  what. 

822.  Sack  is  a  general  name  for  white  wines  from  Spain  and  the 
Canaries.  Canary  sack  is  commonly  called  Canary  only  ;  Aristippus  was 
a  cant  name  for  it.  Cp.  Holinshed's  Description  of  England  (Bk  II.  Ch.  6) 
and  Middleton,  Works  II,  422. 

827.  For  this  use  of  may  in  an  interrogative  sentence  cp.  Shakespeare- 
Lexicon,  may,  2. 

860.  For  affect  =  love  v.  1.  289. 

865.  An  obscene  pun  is  meant.  Cp.  Satiro-Mastix  (Materialien  XX) 
1.  773  :  Sentlemen  fall  in  before  the  Ladyes. 

877.  For  depose,  '  to  examine  on  oath,  to  take  the  deposition  of,  to 
cite  as  a  witness ',  cp.  Richard  II,  i,  3  ;  3o  :  Depose  him  in  the  justice 
of  his  cause,  —  Massinger,  Duke  of  Milan  IV,  I  :  Grant  thou  hadst  a 
thousand  witnesses  To  be  deposed  they  heard  it. 

904.  Come  neere,  enter-  Cp.  1.  1009.  Merry  Wives  III,  3  ;  i5g  :  please 
ye,  draw  near  (i.  e.  enter  the  cell.)  —  I,  4 ;  140  :  Come  near  the  house, 
I  pray  you.  —  Bid  them  come  near  house.  The  First  part  of  King  Edward 
the  Fourth,  Vol.  I,  p.  49  (1874).  Cp.  German  '  treten  Sie  naher  ! '. 

906.  In  Mistris  Splay's  name  there  may  be  a  jocular  allusion  to  the 
verb  to  splay,  l  to  geld,  castrate  '. 

91 1-3.  There  is  a  play  upon  conjunction,  the  astrological  term  denot 
ing  that  two  planets  are  in  the  same  sign  of  the  zodiac,  and  conjunction, 
sexual  union,  what  Mistris  Splay  calls  '  conjunction  copulative  '. 

916.  Tall,  brave,  bold.  The  Merry  Devil  of  Edmonton  III,  2  ;  i6i-3  : 
'  But  whither,  Raymond  ?'  'To  Brians  vpper  lodge  in  Enfield  Chase; 
He  is  mine  honest  Friend  and  a  tall  keeper. '  -—  Euery  Man  out  of  his 
Humour  IIII,  6-  (Materialien  VII,  1.  3ooo)  :  He  is  as  ingenious  a  tal 
man,  as  euer  swagger'd  about  London.  C.  1.  922. 


io3 

917.  Muchalo,  one  of  the  numerous  corruptions  of  mustachio.  Cp. 
mushato,  mochatoe,  mochedoe  etc. .quoted  in  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  mustachio. 

919.  Puncto  reuerso.  One  of  the  many  Spanish  and  Italian  terms  of 
fencing  then  common  in  England  ispunto  riverso,  a  back-handed  stroke. 
Romeo  and  Juliet  II,  4  ;  27  :  Ah,  the  immortal  passado!  the  punto  reverse ! 
the  hay  !  —  Euery  Man  in  his  Humour  IV,  7  (11,  2i85,  6  Materialien 
VII)  :  and  I  would  teach  these  nineteene,  the  speciall  rules,  as  your 
Punto,  your  Reuerso,  your  Stoccata,  your  Imbroccata,  your  Passada,  your 
Montanto.  —  Now  punto  is  also  a  name  for  a  pointed  beard  :  Shirley, 
Honoria  and  Mammon  1,2:1  have  yet  No  ague,  I  can  looke  upon  your 
buffe,  And  punto-beard,  yet  call  for  no  strong  water.  —  Evidently 
Brabo  uses  puncto  reuerso  for  '  turned  up  '. 

920.  Tooles,  swords.  Tool  in  the  sense  of  weapon  is  by  no  means 
uncommon  in  Elizabethan  English.  Romeo  and  Juliet  I,  i  ;  87  :  Draw 
thy  tool. 

923.  Gogs  zounds.  Cp.  Englische  Studien  24,  36. 

926.  Wear  vizards  or  masks. 

933.  An  obscene  jest. 

g58.  Carriage,  power  for  carrying  ;  an  obscene  joke. 

964.  To  see  if  his  purse  is  in  the  cuff  of  his  sleeve. 

972.  B  has  copper  noses. 

975-8.  Note  the  rhyme. 

978.  Hazlitt-Dodsley  has  changed  '  laid  '  into  '  lie  '. 

981-  B  has  this  is  first  my  day. 

982.  Cp.  God  for  his  passion!  What  make  you  here  alone  ?  Merry  Devil, 
Hazlitt-Dodley  X,  248.  Englische  Studien  24,  33. 

983.  B  scare. 

1004.  It  is  difficult  to  see  whether  the  e  of  thankes  is  broken,  or 
whether  it  is  '  thank's  '. 
1009.  Cp.  1.  904. 

1032.  Expert  has  now  the  accent  on  the  last  syllable.  Cp.  1.  io83.  - 
Jerk,  a  stroke  with  a  whip  or  wand,  a  stripe,  a  lash.  Now  obsolete,  see 
N.  E.  D.  Cp.  1.  i245. 

1033.  podes.  So  also  in  B. 

1034.  pash,  "  to  strike  or  knock  violently,  usually  so  as  to  bruise  or 
smash  ".  *'  A  much  used  word  [esp.  in  sense  2,  (i.  e-  '  to  crush  or 
smash  by  blows)]  from  c.  1675  for  some  60  years ;  but  now  chiefly 
dial.  "  .V.  E.  D-  Cp.  1.  1046. 

mall  =  maul. 

1035.  There  ought  to  be  a  period  after  *  caputs ' ;  B  has  a  comma. 

1036.  mors  mort,  is.  B  has  correctly  :  mors  mortis. 

1037.  Pedants  =  pedant  is 


104 

1045.  hoc,  i.  e.  his  bill.  Per  Jehova  et  Junonem  for  per  Jovem  etjunonem. 

1046.  Cp.  1.  1034.  Pash  has  here  an  object  of  cognate  meaning.  For 
Coxcomb,  '  head  ',  cp.  Merry  Wives  III,  i  ;  91.  The  Old  IViues  Tale,  606: 
ile  scale  it  vpon  your  cockescome.  —  Note  the  frequent  rimes  ! 

1048.  Avernus  lake.  Cp.  The  Misfortunes  of  Arthur  II,  i  (Hazlitt-Dods- 
ley  IV  p.  280)  :  And  Britain  land  the  promised  seat  of  Brute.  —  ibid. 
IV,  2  (p.  3:8)  :  Should  meet  in  Cornwall  fields. 

1065.  Sheepbiter.  Literally  a  worthless  shepherd's  dog  that  will  bite 
the  sheep.  Next  a  malicious  fellow.  Schmidt  (Shakespeare-Lexicon 
i.  v.)  says  in  explanation  of  Twelfth  Night  II,  5  ;  6  :  Wooldst  thou  not 
be  glad  to  have  the  niggardly  rascally  sheepbiter  (i.e.  Malvolio)  come 
by  some  notable  shame  ?  "  evidently  —  a  morose,  surly  and  malicious 
fellow.  Dyce  :  a  cant  term  for  thief?  "  I  do  not  know  on  what  Dyce 
based  his  definition.  In  the  only  passage  containing  the  word  that  I 
can  call  to  mind  the  explanation  '  malicious  fellow  '  would  seem  to  be 
the  right  one  :  Mucedorus  II,  4 ;  18  :  "  Segasto.  Sirrah,  away  with  him, 
and  hang  him  'bout  the  middle.  Mouse.  Yes,  forsooth,  I  warrant  you. 
Come  on,  sir;  ah,  so  like  a  sheepbiter  a  looks.  "  The  man  who  looks 
so  like  a  sheepbiter  is  Mucedorus  disguised  as  a  shepherd.  In  our 
passage  the  word  seems  to  denote  'a  miserable  fellow ;  a  little,  wrinkled 
man  ;  a  dwarfish  fellow  ;  an  insignificant  or  contemptible  fellow  '. 

Chittiface,  a  chitty-faced  fellow,  thin-face,  pinched-face.  v.  N.  E.  D. 
and  cp.  The  Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage,  Hazlitt-Dodsley  IX,  491  : 
'Sfoot,  you  chittiface,  that  looks  worse  than  a  collier  through  a  wooden 
window. 

1066.  learn  Enuy.  Envy  is  represented  as  lean.  Cp.  Piers  Ploughman, 
B  text,  Passus  V,  82,  83  :  And  as  a  leke  hadde  yleye  longe  in  the 
sonne,  So  loked  he  with  lene  chekes  lourynge  foule. 

Anatomy,  skeleton. 

Jack  a  Lent  is  evidently  not  used  in  its  usual  sense  of  *  a  puppet,  an 
insignificant  or  contemptible  person ',  but  fh  that  of  '  a  fellow  as  lean 
as  a  Lenten  faster  '. 

1067.  Moone  in  the  waine,  waning  moon. 

1068.  /  waile  in  woe,  I  plunge  in  paine  is  the  first  line  of  '  A  sorrowfull 
sonet,  made  by  M.  George  Mannington,  at  Cambridge  Castle.  To  the 
tune  of  Labandala  Shot,  "  Clement  Robinson,  A  Handful  of  Pleasant 
Delights,  Arber's  Reprints,  pp.  57-9.  Ritson,  Ancient  Songs  and  Ballads 
(1877)  p.  188  :  A  woeful   Ballad  made  by  Mr.  George  Mannynton,  an 
houre  before  he  suffered  at  Cambridge  Castell  (1576).  Eastward  HoeV, 
5  ;  53-58  : 

Quick.  It  is  in  imitation  of  Maningtons,  he  that  was  hangd  at  Cam 
bridge,  that  cut  of  the  horses  head  at  a  blow. 


io5 

Friend.  So,  Sir ! 

Quick.  To  the  tune  of  /  waile  in  woe,  I  plunge  in  Paine. 

1071.  Like  stock-fish,  poore  John  is  a  name  for  hake  dried  for  food. 
The  following  interesting  quotation  is  not  in  N.  E.  D-  '  How  many 
thousands  this  fiftie  or  sixtie  yeeres  haue  beene  maintained  by  New 
found  land,  where  they  take  nothing  but  small  Cod,  whereof  the 
greatest  they  make  Cor-fish,  and  the  rest  is  hard  dried,  which  we  call 
Poore-John,  would  amaze  a  man  with  wonder.  John  Smith,  Descrip 
tion  of  New  England,  1624.  (Arber,  English  Scholar's  Library  16, 
709.)  Cp.  Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  The  Scornful  Lady.  II  (Cambridge 
English  Classics  Vol.  I,  p.  255;)  Massinger,  Renegado  I,  i  ;  Shirley, 
Maid's  Revenge  3,2. 

gut  of  men.  No  doubt  Brabo  thinks  of  the  dried  guts  used  for  violin 
strings.  The  opposite  meaning  is  more  common,  '  a  corpulent  or  glut 
tonous  person. '  v.  N.  E.  D. 

1074.  The  shaking  of  the  sheets  is  an  old  dance-tune,  mentioned  in 
William  Ballet's  Lute  Book,  Trinity  College  Dublin,  and  in  Hawkins' 
History  of  Music.  The  music  and  further  particulars  are  given  in 
Chappell,  Old  English  Popular  Music  I,  228  (1893.)  The  tune  is  often 
alluded  to,  mostly  with  obscene  allusions-  Massinger,  The  City  Madam 
II,  I  : 

after  ten-pound  suppers, 

The  curtains  drawn,  my  fiddlers  playing  all  night 

"  The  shaking  of  the  sheets,  "  which  I  have  danced 

Again  and  again  with  my  cockatrice.  (Mermaid  Series), 

1076.  grim  Malkin.  No  doubt  an  attempt  at  etymologizing !  B  has 
the  same  spelling. 

Dash,  put  out  of  countenance.  See  N '.  E.D.  and  Shakespeare  Lexicon. 

io83.  expert,  cp.  1.  io32. 

1086.  per  fidem  is  good  Latin  used  by  Tacitus  and  Petronius. 

/  will  rid  my  life.  Rid,  take  away.  Cp.  Parsons,  Leicester's  Ghost  6.  : 
Such  as  could  rid  mens  lives  yet  no  bloud  spill,  (ab.  1610.)  N.  £,  D. 

1106.  looke,  seek,  look  for.  The  Royall  Slave,  Oxford,  i63g ;   IV,  3  : 
Arch.  Where's  Stratocles,  and  Philotas  ?  Leoc-  They're  looking  Bur-leaves 
perhaps  for  Excoriation.  —  Birth  of  Merlin  III,  i  ;  i5  :  A  pox  of  all 
Loger-heads  !  then  you  were  but  in  a  Dream  all  this  while,  and  we 
may  still  go  look  him.  —  Euery  Man  out  of  his  Humour  V,  in  (Materialien 
11.  3568-70)  :  Fast.  Did  you  see  sir  Pvntarvolo's  dogge  here,  Caualier, 
since  you  came  ?  Shift.  His  dog  sir  ?  he  may  looke  his  dog,  sir,  I  saw 
none  of  his  dog,  sir. 

1107.  B  has  a  full  stop  after  Aminadab. 

1108.  I  cannot  adduce  another  instance  of  use  conference,  but  refer  for 
a  similar  application  of  the  verb  to  Shakespeare  Lexicon  i.  v.  use  I  b- 


io6 

in3.  crish  Crosse.  Christ-cross,  i.  the  figure  of  a  cross  formerly  placed 
in  front  of  the  alphabet  in  horn-books,  etc.  2.  the  alphabet  N.  E.  D.  — 
It  took  Pipkin  five  years  to  get  from  the  beginning  of  the  horn-book  as 
far  as  capital  A.  To  make  this  passage  clear  to  the  reader  I  subjoin  the 
usual  form  of  a  horn-book  copied  from  a  real  specimen  attached  to 
Andrew  W.  Tuer's  History  of  the  Horn-Book,  London,  1896. 
tAabcdefghiklmnopqrsfvutwxyz&.  aei 
o  u    ABCDEFGHIKLMNOPQRSUTWXYZ 


a  e  i  o  u 
ab  eb  ib  ob  ub 
ac  ec  ic   oc  uc 
ad  ed  id  od  ud 


a  e  i  o  u 
ba  be  bi  bo  bu 
ca   ce   ci  co  cu 
da  de  di  do  du 


In  the  Name  of  the  Father,  &  of  the  Son,  &  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Amen.  Our  Father Evil.  Amen. 

Tuer  says  on  p.  3i  :  The  Horn-book  was  elaborately  but  uninterest 
ingly  set  to  music  as  an  exercise  in  the  intricate  time  signatures  of  the 
day  by  Thomas  Morley  in  1608.  It  appears  in  an  ingeniously  written 
work  entitled  A  plain  and  easie  Introduction  to  Practical  Musicke,  Set  downe  in 
forme  of  a  dialogue.  The  words  are  :  "  Cristes  crosse  be  my  speede,  in 
all  vertue  to  proceede,  A.  b.  c.  d.  e.  f.  g.  h.  i.  1.  k.  m.  n.  o.  p.  q.  r.  s  &  t. 
double  w.  v.  x.  with  y.  ezod.  &  per  se.  con  per  se.  tittle  tittle,  est  Amen, 
when  you  haue  done  begin  againe  begin  againe  ".  The  following 
passage,  quoted  by  Tuer  on  p.  3oi,  will  explain  the  meaning  of  tittle. 
"  A  is  thought  to  bee  the  first  letter  of  the  row  because  by  it  we  may 
understand  Trinity  and  Unity  :  The  Trinity  is  that  There  bee  three 
lines,  and  the  Unity,  in  that  it  is  but  one  letter.  And  for  that  cause, 
in  the  old  time  they  used  three  prickes  at  the  latter  end  of  the  Crosse 
row,  and  at  the  end  of  their  books  which  they  caused  children  to  call 
tittle,  tittle,  tittle  :  signifying  that  as  there  were  three  pricks  and  those 
three  made  but  one  stop,  even  so  there  were  Three  Persons  and 
yet  but  one  God  ".  (A  new  Booke  of  new  Conceits,  with  a  number  of 
Novelties  annexed  thereunto.  Whereof  some  be  profitable,  some 
necessary,  some  strange,  none  hurtful,  and  all  delectable,  By  Thomas 
Johnson,  London  :  Printed  by  E.  A.  for  Edward  Wright  and  Cuth- 
bert  Wright,  i636).  Tuer  further  quotes  from  Halliwel  (note  to  Loves 
Labour's  Lost  V,  i  ;  48  ?)  :  "  It  was  the  practice  to  learn  each  letter  by 
itself,  the  letter  being  emphatically  repeated,  e,  g-  —  a  per  se  a,  b  &c.  " 
and  from  N  ash's  Have  with  you  to  Saffron  W  olden  '•  "  B  per  se,  con  per 
se,  tittle  est,  Amen  !  Why  he  comes  uppon  thee,  man,  with  a  whole 
horn-book.''  "  Con  per  se  "  or  "  comperce  "  is  the  contraction  for  con 
just  as  "  ampersand  ",  "  &  per  se  ",  "  &  per  se  &"  is  the  contraction  for 
"  and  "  (&);  See  Notes  and  Queries  10  S.  ii.  427-  Thus  '  a  '  (a  per  se)  was 


contrasted  with  '  ab ',  '  ac ',  '  ba  ',  '  ca '  etc.  (con  per  se).  I  am  very  much 
indebted  to  Prof.  Edward  Bensly  of  Aberystwyth  for  his  very  full  reply 
to  my  query  in  Notes  and  Queries  u  S-  i.  414,5,  and  for  his  helpful  letter 
on  this  subject.  With  regard  to  Pipkin's  "  before  I  could  come  to  q  " 
Prof.  Bensly  draws  my  attention  to  the  fact  that  in  one  hornbook  to 
which  he  refers,  q  is  at  the  end  of  the  first  line,  while  in  the  other  it 
begins  the  second.  The  form  of  a  hornbook  was  usually  a  sheet  of  paper 
covered  with  a  thin  layer  of  horn,  framed  like  a  slate,  and  provided 
with  a  handle- 

1119.  by  the  same  token-  Cp.  By  the  same  token  you  are  a  bawd.  Troilus 
and  Cressida  1,2;  3o7« 
Cor.  Fare  well  then  I  leue  the  here 
And  remebyr  well  all  this  gere 
How  so  euer  thou  do 

B.     Yes  hardely  this  erande  shall  be  spoken 
But  how  say  you  syrs  by  this  iokene 
Is  it  not  a  quaynt  thinge 

The  Playe  of  Lucres  86-91.  (Materialien  XII.) 

1 122-  and  so  foorth.  B  &c 

1 123.  come.  B  become. 

1 125.  mistresse.  B  mistris. 

1133-1164.  See  note  11.  392-412. 

n33.  humor  whim,  caprice.  Cp.  1-  2276. 

1 1 36.  had.  B  hath. 

1137.  swart.  B  sweare 

1145.  at  unaware.  Battle  of  Alcazar  1184,5  :  And  they  my  lord,  as  thicke 
as  winters  haile,  Will  fall  vpon  our  heads  at  vnawares,  —  Vide  Shake 
speare  Lexicon  i.  v.  vnawares. 

n63.  B  sware. 

1164.  She  tongue.  I  can  adduce  two  examples  of  this  uncommon  use 
of  she  with  words  that  are  not  names  of  living  beings,  from  The  Captives 
(attributed  to  Hey  wood)  114  :  shipp  all  your  goods  With  these  shee- 
chatteyles.  ibid.  i5^  :  Let  this  shee-post  (i.  e.  Lady  Averne's  maid)  then 
conveigh  this  letter  to  the  fryar's  close  fist. 

1173.  B  Wher's  your  husband  I  pray  ? 

1175.  There  should  be  a  comma  after  '  who  '. 

1176.  brave,  fine,  grand,  handsome.  Vide  N.E-D-  and  Shakespeare 
Lexicon-  Cp.  1.  i352- 

1181.  diets  there,  boards  there.  Vide  N.  E.  D. 

ii83.  As  early  as  Lyly  (Endymion  V,  2  ;  5)  'Lord  (Master)  of  Misrule* 
occurs  in  this  transferred  sense- 


io8 

T2OO.   B  lay. 

I2o3-  B  comma  after  dccciud. 

1207.  B  timorous. 

1212.  Vilde,  vile-  Also  spelt  uild,  vil'd  in  Elizabethan  English.  Cp. 
Shakespeare  Lexicon 

1218.  shelter  for  the  storme.  This  use  of  for  =  '  from,  against '  is  obsolete. 
Vide  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.for  23  d. 

1224-  ^0w  g£/s  (also  in  B.)  Cp.  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik  §  i. 

1227.  Paradice.  B.  Paradise. 

T233.  destruction  is  four  syllables. 

1245.  lerkes,  stripes,  lashes  ;  obsolete  in  this  sense.  Vide  N.  E-  D. 
Cp.  1.  io32,  —  as  Lions  cocks,  a  piece  of  the  sort  of  natural  history  that 
we  find  in  Euphuistic  literature. 

1252-  inamoratos-  One  of  the  numerous  Italian  words  then  in  common 
use.  The  feminine  inamorata  also  occurs  —  I  am  a  poor  enamorate.  The 
Faire  Maid  of  the  Exchange.  Hey  wood,  Works,  1874-  Vol.  II,  p.  21. 

1256.  hoboy*  I  suppose  this  is  a  joke  at  the  tone  in  which  Aminadab 
speaks.  B  has  '  ho  boy '  and  Hazlitt-Dodsley  prints  '  ho,  boy  ! ' 

1267.  as  in  presenti,  a  term  from  Latin  grammar,  introduced  here 
merely  as  a  piece  of  pedantry,  and  to  form  a  jingle  wiih  '  sent  thee'. 

1258.  marry,  B  Mary.  No  doubt  a  jingle  is  intended  between  '  tarry  ' 
and  '  marry '. 

1260.  nullus  lapis  iacet  ibi  in  answer  to  'what  stone?'  (unde  mini 
iapidem  ?) 

1261-  B  sheth. 

1262-  within,  wrong  for  with  .  B  with. 

1268.  mishapt.  B  mish-shapt-  '  Misshaped.'  is  meant. 
1270.  assurs'd-  B  assurd.  '  Assured  '  is  meant. 

1279.  Mors  vem  veni  mors.  In  B  the  e  of  vem  is  clearer.  No  doubt  mis 
printed  for  '  mors  veni,  veni  mors  '• 

1281.  dissimulary.  The  pedant  is,  of  course,  represented  as  saying 
'  dissimulare ',  but  the  compositor  mistook  the  Latin  word  for  an 
English  one  and  printed  '  dissimulary  '.  Perhaps  the  play  was  printed 
from  shorthand  notes.  Some  corrupt  passages  also  seem  to  point  to 
this,  e.  g-  11-  1292-5,  2417,  2612- 

1292-5.  Something  is  wrong  here.  Evidently  Fuller  means  that  it  is 
better  to  give  him  this  powder,  which  is  not  poison,  than  to  expose 
him  to  the  covetousness  of  some  '  slave  '  who  may  sell  him  real  poison. 

1298-  Gentiles.  B  Gentles. 

1303.  the  e  of  it  looks  like  an  o.  B  has  distinctly  it.  Optatum  for  optatus. 

1 304,  faciet.  B  faciat. 

i3o7-  The  schoolmaster's  ignorance  is  humorously  exposed  here- 


log 

i  Jog.  mus  pusse  (B  musse  pusse).  Evidently  Aminadab  means  that  he 
has  no  cat  that  will  catch  rats.  Latin  mus  is  both  mouse  and  rat. 

i3i2.  Aminadab  means  :  if  you,  Fuller,  help  me  '  I  will  ever  be, 
yours  to  command,  Sir  Aminadab  '.  tuus  dum  suus  is  a  Latinization  of 
an  Elizabethan  phrase. 

i3i5.  pepper,  do  for.  See  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  pepper  5. 

iSiy.  According  as  it  turns  out,  send  to  me. 

i32i.  Of  course  the  pedant  mixes  up  Tully  and  Phaedrus. 

i33o.  For  this  construction  compare  :  I  desire  you  more  acquain 
tance.  Midsummer  N's  Dr.  Ill,  i;  200,  where  F  3  and  F  4  read  your. 
Vide  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  desire,  5,  where  this  example  is  given  :  i583  Golding 
Calvin  on  Deut.  XVIII.  io5  If  a  Childe...  desire  his  Father  some  fond 
or  euill  thing.  —  As  B  has  also  you  we  need  not  think  of  a  misprint 
for  '  your '. 

1 352.  a  brauc  frolick  widower.  An  instance  of  brave,  3  in  N.  E.  D.  : 
loosely,  as  a  general  epithet  of  admiration  or  praise  :  worthy,  excellent, 
good,  '  capital ',  '  fine  ',  '  famous  ',  etc.  ;  '  an  indeterminate  word,  used 
to  express  the  superabundance  of  any  valuable  quality  in  men  or 
things'  (Johnson).  Cp.  1.  1176. 

1 358-  A  and  B  In  nomine  doming.  Evidently  meant  for  a  blunder  : 
domine  (for  domini)  affords  a  rime. 

i363.  For  instances  of  '  bug '  for  '  bugbear '  v.  Shakespeare  Lexicon. 

1367.  Both  A  and  B  have  '  I  haue  I  got  thee'-  The  metre  is  correct. 
Perhaps  we  should  read  :  I  (ay),  I  have  got  thee. 

1 368.  The  metre  can  be  restored  by  reading  *  Aminadab '. 
i373.  B  has  also  queso. 

1379.  will.  Subjunctive  of  the  regular  verb. 

i383.  Quintilianus  is  ridiculed  as  teacher  of  rhetoric. 

i386.  B  has  the  same  line.  A  syllable  is  wanting. 

1410.  bestow,  apply,  employ.  Cp.  N.  E-  D. 

1423.  recure,  cure,  recovery-  v.  N.  E.  D. 

1447.  B  has  cheeks.  It  has  also  :  laies  of.  Cp.  Shakespeare  Lexicon 
i.  v.  of  p.  799*  . 

1448.  A  reference  to  the  painted  lattices  of  taverns.  George  VVilkins, 
The  Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage :  Be  mild  in  a  tavern  ?  '  tis  treason 
to  the  red  lattice,  enemy  to  their  sign-post,  and  slave  to  humour. 
Hazlitt-Dodsley  i,  p.  5io,  and  note.  See  also  Notes  and  Queries,  gth  S. 
VIII.  1901,  p.  234. 

1449.  As  homo  is  communis  generis,  can  be  applied  to  all  human  beings, 
so  she  is  common  to  all  men. 

1457.  Currant,  in  progress,  progressing  smoothly. 
1460.  B  has  inforcde. 


no 

1476.  Ouen  stone,  the  stone  which  closes  the  mouth  of  the  oven. 

1481.  Salt,  for  salt-cellar.  See  N.  E.  D. 

1486-  The  meaning  of  '  chimney  stocke  '  is  not  quite  clear.  N.  E.  D. 
says  :  (?)  one  of  the  upright  sides  af  a  chimney  or  grate. 

i5i3,  i5i5.  There  ought  to  be  a  comma  after  'what'.  He  calls 
Pipkin.  For  this  use  of  '  what ',  cp.  Shakespeare  Lexicon  i.  v.  what  ie. 

i5i6.  Tail  is  used  humorously  for  the  part  on  which  we  sit. 
Cp.    Between  two   stools,  the  tail  goes  to   ground.   Wise  Woman  of 
Hogsdon  V,  4.  p.  3a3  (Mermaid  Series).  Besse.  A  table  and  some  stooles, 
Clem.  I  shal  give  you  occasion  to  ease  your  tailes  presently.  Hey  wood, 
The  f air  e  Maid  of  the  West  IV,  I. 

i5i8.  Hue  or  Hugh  is  Justice  Reason's  servant. 

1627,8.  Perhaps  '  as  little  of  it  as  you  can '  is  said  by  Pipkin  with 
reference  to  what  they  will  find  in  the  buttery. 

i534.  An  allusion  to  the  proverb  '  Friends  may  meet,  but  moun 
tains  never  greet'.  Cp.  As  you  like  it  III,  2  ;  ig5  :  It  is  a  hard  matter 
for  friends  to  meet,  but  mountains  may  be  removed  with  earthquakes 
and  so  encounter. 

i552-g.  The  measure  reminds  one  of  Hudibras. 

1571.  This  spelling  of  '  lewd '  is  recorded  in  N.  E.  D.  B  has  *  lewd  '. 

1677.  This  impersonal  use  of  'to  repent'  seems  not  to  be  entirely 
obsolete.  See  N.  E.  D. 

1578.  put  ore  your  legs,  evidently  '  cross  your  legs,  sit  down'.  I  am 
unable  to  furnish  other  examples. 

1 586.  impute,  reckon,  consider,  regard. 

1 5g2.  So  =  well.  See  Shakespeare- Lexicon  i.  v.  so.  8. 

1594.  Read  :  '  I  pray  you,  to  it ',  i.  e.  I  pray  you,  to  work ;  I  pray 
you,  begin. 

1696.  For  have  =  to  get  into  a  place  or  state  ;  to  cause  to  come  or 
go  ;  to  take  with  one  ;  to  bring,  take,  lead,  convey,  put,  see  N.  E.  D. 
have  16.  Cp.  2  Chron.  35,  23  :  he  said,  have  me  away  for  I  am  sore 
wounded. 

1 5gg.  prof  ace,  much  good  may  it  do  you  !  2  Henry  IV,  V,  3  ;  3o  : 
Master  page,  good  master  page,  sit.  Pro  face  /.  —  The  Wise  Woman  of 
Hogsdon  IV,  4  :  And  bid  the  old  knight  and  his  guest  prof  ace. 

1604.  sowse,  ears  and  feet  of  swine  pickled.  Nares  quotes  : 
Nor  is  breast  of  pork  to  be 
Despis'd,  by  either  thee  or  me  ; 
The  head  and  feet  will  make  good  souse.  Poor  Robin,  1738. 

In  The  Captives  2o5  there  is  a  pun  on  souse  pickled  meat,  and  souce  a 
blow  :  Tush,  offer  me  a  sowse  but  not  in  th'eare. 

1606.  racks.  N.  E.  D.  :  rack,  sb4.  A  neck,  or  fore-part  of  the  spine, 
tsp.  of  mutton  or  pork.  Now  only  dial. 


Ill 

1607.  proines,  obs.  form  of  *  prunes  '. 

1608.  frayes,  fries,  fried  food. 

i6i3.  carawaics,  the  seed  of  the  caraway,  or  a  confection  containing 
it.  2  Henry  IV,  V,  3  ;  3  :  We  will  eat  a  last  year's  pippin  of  my  own 
grafting,  with  a  dish  of  caraways,  and  so  forth.  —  Nares  quotes  from 
The  Haven  of  Health,  by  Thomas  Cogan  (i586)  :  Howbeit  wee  are 
vvoont  to  eat  carawayes  or  biskets,  or  some  other  kinde  of  comfits,  or 
seeds  together  with  apples,  thereby  to  breake  winde  engendered  by 
them.  P.  101.  —  Cp.  Satiro-Mastix,  1427-9  (Materialien  XX)  :  He  takes 
the  sweetest  oathes  that  euer  I  heard  a  gallant  of  his  pitch  sweare  ; 
by  these  Comfits,  &  these  Carrawaies,  I  warrant  it  does  him  good  to 
sweare. 

i6i5-  B.  Benedicamus. 

1622-  pose,  question,  examine. 

1 632-  Candle-case.  Taming  of  the  Shrew  III,  2  ;  45  :  A  pair  of  boots  that 
have  been  Candle-cases. 

i635.  A  play  upon  person  and  parson. 

i63g.  Pancridge,  St  Pancras* 

1640.  There  ought  to  be  no  period  at  the  and  of  the  line-  As  is  so 
often  the  case,  B  is  more  correct. 

1646-51.  There  is  a  smudge  across  the  last  words  of  these  lines. 
Only  the  last  two  words  of  i65i  '  lie  by  '  are  altogether  indistinct. 

1662,4.  Puritants,  Puritant.  B  has  the  usual  forms.  This  may  be  a 
case  of  paragoge  owing  to  the  influence  of  Protestant.  N.  E-  D. 
has  no  instances  of  this  form.  For  methinke  (B  has  methinks)  see  N.  E.  D. 

1671.  See  note  to  11.  392,  412. 

1680-6.  There  is  a  smudge  across  these  lines  (the  reverse  of  1646-51), 
which  makes  it  impossible  to  see  whether  in  i6S3  the  spelling  is  vain 
or  vein.  All  in  i685  and  Ful.  in  1686  are  from  B. 

1691.  Capte,  B  capde  =  caped. 

1695.  reading  on  a  chapter.  According  to  JV.  E.  D.  read  on  is  now  rare 
or  obsolete. 

1707.  on  sooth  not  in  B.  For  on  cp.  '  on  my  faith  ',  and  N-  E.  D-  i.  v. 
on  i  f. 

1719.  an  has  dropped  out  before  angell.  It  is  in  B. 

1720.  right,  precisely,  exactly,  quite.  Hey  wood,  The  English  Traveller 
III,  i  :  To  talk  of  borrowing,  lending,  and  of  use  !  The  usurer's  lan 
guage  right.  (Mermaid  Series,  194). 

1739.  haue  to  thee,  here  is  to  thee-  See  N.  E.  D.  have  i^b. 

1745.  Make  that  account  is  spoken  aside.  It  means  '  expect  that '.  I 
quote  from  N-  E-  D>  '  1611.  Bible  i  Mac. '  VI.  9.  He  made  account  that 
he  should  die'.  —  Asides  are  not  indicated  ;  cp,  1.  1784. 


112 

1748.  B  hasfratres.  —  Psalm  i33  (182),  i. 

1766.  Sancte  ;  so  also  in  B  for  sancto. 

1772.  Week  be  the  first  will  straine  curtesie  means  «  We  will  be  the 
first  to  go  ».  Cf.  Shakespeare- Lexicon  i.  v.  strain  e,  and  Lyly,  Mother 
Bombie  III,  3  ;  84,  35  :  I  must  straine  cursie  with  you  ;  I  haue  busines, 
1  cannot  stay. 

1775.  B  has  proximus. 

1781.  Read  :  sic,  so,  nunc,  now,  take  the  vpper  hand-  Aminadab 
merely  gives  the  Latin  equivalents  of  so  and  now. 

1782.  For  mans  her  see  1.  2198. 

1783.  There  should  be  a  stop  at  the  end  of  the  line  ;  1784  is  spoken 
aside. 

1787  B  Exeunt  Arthur  and  his  Wife. 

1790.  expostulate,  discuss,  discourse  upon.  See  N.  E.  D. 

1821.  snudge,  a  miser.  Nash,  The  vnfortunate  traveller  22  :  Not  to  make 
many  words  —  the  kinge  saies  flatly,  you  are  a  miser  &  a  snudge-  — 
Also  =  a  sneaking  fellow;  cp.  Dekker,  Old  Fortunatus  i23o,  i  :  O  I 
eare  that  deitie  Hath  stolne  him  hence,  that  Snudge  his  destinie. 

1 838.  B  has  also  Bra.  Read  Pip. 

1846.  B  has  wofulst. 

1 855.  Course  =  corpse,  corse.  B  has  coarse ;  both  spellings  occur 
again  in  1879. 

1856.  For  this  use  of  upon  cp.  Damon  and  Pithias  (Hazlitt-Dodsley 
IV,  52)  :  On  bed  I  lie. 

1875.  bitter  also  in  B. 

1883.  B  has  hins/olke. 

1897.  A  reference  to  St.  Matthew  27,  24.  Cp.  I  will  depart,  I  will  not 
hinder  love,  He  wash  my  hands.  The  Faire  Maid  of  the  Exchange,  Hey- 
wood,  Works  1874,  vol.  II,  p.  18. 

1901.  Adelbora,  also  in  B.  Read  Aldeboran- 

1902.  B  has  East. 

1911.  B.  has  a  comma  after  side,  as  there  ought  to  be. 

1920.  an  end,  B  on  end 

1929.  Where  I  am  become,  what  has  become  of  me.  See  N.  E-  D. 
become  f  ib.  Cp.  2i85. 

1934.  train,  allure.  Two  Angry  Women  of  Abingdon  IV,  2  :  Sir  Ralph 
was  not  an  honest  knight  To  train  her  hither. 

1949.  B  veneratum.  The  correct  form  is  venerare. 

1953.  B  has  diluculo 

1957.  I  fail  to  see  the  meaning  of  '  draw ',  thus  used  absolutely. 

1979.  Having  begun  the  sentence  with  '  first '  =  '  sooner,  rather ' 
the  author  completed  it  as  if  it  had  begun  with  one  of  these  words.  In 


Hazlitt-Dodsley  '  first '  has  been  replaced  by  *  sooner'  (IX,  71).  For 
'  first '  see  Shak.  Lex.  p.  421. 
1986-  B  bandes. 

1997.  move,  prefer,  bring  forward,  mention.  Dryden,  Aurengzebe  IV  : 
To  Indamora  you  my  suit  must  move. 

2007-  cp.  1-  917. 

2041.  tenders,  regards  with  tenderness,  cares  for.  For  instances  of  this 
obsolete  sense  of  to  tender  see  Schmidt,  Shakespeare-Lexicon.  Cp.  1.  297. 

2o5o.  Lawlesse  Church.  Hazlitt-Dodsley  (IX,  74)  has  the  following 
note  :  Massinger  in  his  City  Madam,  i658,  uses  this  word  in  the  sense 
of  above  the  law-  Perhaps  Young  Arthur  may  intend  to  distinguish 
between  a  civil  and  religious  contract.  —  N.  E.  D.  gives  no  light. 

2o55.  sennet,  sennight. 

2o56-  timeless,  untimely,  premature.  HIVB,  III,  2;  187  :  guilty  of 
Duke  Humphrey's  timeless  death- 

2060.  motion,  proposal,  offer.  For  instances  see  N.  E.  D.  and  Shake 
speare-Lexicon- 

2064,5.  but  as  for  mine,  That  with  my  age  shall  day  by  day  decline,  spoken 
aside. 

2079.  bona  roba,  '  a  wench,  a  showy  wanton  ',  but  also  '  a  handsome 
woman'.  Honest  Whore  B  I,  i.  Our  country  buona-robas,  oh!  are  the 
sugarest,  delicious  rogues!  —  The  Miseries  of  Enforced  Marriage  (Hazlitt- 
Dodsley  IX.  p.  539).  Wenches,  bona-robas,  blessed  beauties,  without 
colour  or  counterfait  —  The  Alchemist  II,  i  (Cunningham's  edition  II, 
35a)  :  Drug-  Sir,  there  is  lodged,  hard  by  me,  A  rich  young  widow.  — 
Face.  Good  !  a  bona  roba  ?  Drug.  But  nineteen  at  the  most. 

2090.  amidst,  in  the  middle  of.  Cp.  Paradise  Lost  IX,  66 1  :  The  fruit 
of  this  fair  tree  amidst  The  garden. 

2099.  As  a  present  to  his  friends  on  the  occasion  of  his  wedding. 

2116.  /  am  of  your  counsell,  I  am  in  your  secret.  All's  Well  III,  7  ;  9  :  he 
was  of  my  counsel  in  my  whole  course  of  wooing. 

2119.  like  of.  Orlando  Furioso  1.  146  :  For  trust  me  Daughter,  like  of 
whom  thou  please.  —  Faire  Em  III,  i  :  I  will  seeme  to  agree,  and 
like  of  anything  that  the  knight  shall  demaund.  —  Spanish  Tragedy  I, 
3  ;  191  :  How  likes  Don  Balthazar  o/this  device  ? 

2121-  huffing,  blustering,  bullying,  puffed  up,  conceited,  boastful. 
Knight  of  Burning  Pestle,  Induction  :  I  speak  a  huffing  part.  Cp.  huff-cap 
for  a  swaggering  fellow. 

Both  A  and  B  have  ruffling  =  rustling.  Taming  of  the  Shrew  IV,  3  ;  5g, 
60  :  the  tailor  stays  thy  leisure  To  deck  thy  body  with  his  ruffling 
treasure. 

2147.  temperature,  state,  condition,  complexion. 


114 

2148-  boystrous,  rough,  violent-  See  N-  E.  D.  and  Shakespeare-Lexicon. 

2162-  Merry  Wives  I,  i  ;  83  :  Much  good  do  it  your  heart.  Mids.  N's 
Dream  1 ,  2 ;  73  I  will  roar,  that  I  will  do  any  man's  heart  good  to  hear  me. 

2169.  B  has  hoarse  and  tong. 

2171-  create.  See  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik  §  4b. 

2i83.  Marne  come  up,  has  been  common  from  Shakespeare  (Rom. 
and  Jul.  II,  5  ;  64)  to  the  present  day.  Cp.  Engl-  Stud.  24,  2o5. 

2i85.  Cp.  Henry  VI  C  II,  i  ;  10  :  Where  is  Warwick  then  become  ?  Cp. 
1.  1929- 

2187.  Jacke  Sawce,  impudent  fellow-  —  Henry  V,  IV,  7  ;  148-  —  Van- 
brugh,  False  Friend  III,  2  Why  how  now,  jack-sauce?  -•  There  is 
no  reason  for  calling  Fluellen's  Jack-sauce  a  blunder  for  saucy  Jack  as 
Schmidt  does.  There  is  an  example  of  the  word  as  early  as  i55o  in 
N.-E.D. 

2198.  To  man  her  forth,  to  escort  her  in  public.  For  man  in  this  sense 
cp-  I  Honest  Whore  I,  2  :  No,  no,  it  shall  be  cousin,  or  rather  coz ; 
that's  the  gulling  word  between  the  citizens'  wives  and  their  mad 
caps  that  man  'em  to  the  garden.  The  Two  Angry  Women  of  Abingdon 
(Mermaid  Series)  p.  141  :  Man  me  to  her  house;  ibid.  145  :  Man  her 
home.  Compare  stage-direction  in  1-  1782  of  our  play- 

2199.  that  dare  say  black's  her  eye,  that  dare  find  fault  with  her,  lay 
anything  to  her  charge.  See  N.  E.  D.  i.  v.  black  12.  I  subjoin  an  early 
instance  from  Udall,  Paraphrase  of  Erasmus  upon  the  Gospel  of  St  Luke, 
1648,  fol.  CXL.  r.  IIII  :  Yea  and  so  muche  the  more  grieuously  shal 
the  vngodly  bee  oppressed,  as  they  had  persuaded  themselfes,  that 
what  soeuer  they  dyd  therin,  they  shoulde  dooe  it,  and  no  man  to 
say  blacke  theyr  iye- 

22o3«  A  woman  that  does  not  get  her  will  is  a  nobody. 

2206-  to  beard  me  out  of  my  authoritie,  to  set  me  at  defiance  so  as  to 
make  me  lose  my  authority. 

22 1 o-  drest,  addressed.  See  N.  E.  D. 

2232.  There  ought  to  be  a  comma  after  what. 

2248.  B  has  a  colon  after  a;  there  should  be  no  mark  of  punctuation. 

225 1,  hoar  is  '  kin  to  the  frost ',  i.  e-  she  is  a  whore. 

2255.  Because  of  the  similarity  in  sound  between  subaudi  and 
bawd(y). 

22,5j-  cutter,  cutthroat.  Now  obsolete.  He  was  a  cutter  and  a  swag 
gerer.  Fair  Maide  of  Bristow,  10. 

2258-  A  play  upon  cozen,  cozener  and  cousin,  just  as  in  the  next  line 
there  is  a  play  on  warrener  and  cony  (rabbit  and  '  gull  '). 

2262.  vnpossible  was  common  at  that  time.  Arden  of  Fever  sham  I,  430  : 
It  is  unpossible.  Like  will  to  Like  (Hazlitt-Dodsley  III,  32o)  It  is  as 
unpossible  for  thee- 


2269.  Hey  wood,  A  Woman  killed  with  kindness  III,  i.  Shall  we  hear 
The  music  of  his  voice  cry  from  the  grate,  «  Meat  for  the  Lord's  sake  »  ? 
2276.  humour,  whim  ;  '  when  I  have  had  my  way  '.  Cp.  1.  ii33« 

2298.  my  brothers  wife  gives  no  sense.  B  has  '  other '. 

2299.  For  so,  so  =  indifferently,  fairly,  rather,  see  Shak- Lexicon, 
2309.  Cp.  2304.  ' 

2827.  affect,  like,  care  for.  Grim  the  Collier  (Hazlitt-Dodsley)  401  : 
For  Mariana,  whom  I  most  affect.  Cp  11.  289,  860. 

2338.  borne  this  minde,  entertained  these  sentiments.  N-  E-  D-  i-  v, 
mind  i5. 

2340.  B.  brought. 

2367.  Orlando  Furioso  (Malone  Society's  reprint  1.  201)  Shame  you  not 
Princes  at  this  bad  agree-  The  Miseries  of  enforced  Marriage  (Hazlitt- 
Dodsley  IX,  526)  Shame  you  not  thus  to  transform  yourself? 

2371.  B.  poore. 

23y5.  I  have  found  no  other  case  of  on  after  beg-  Also  in  B. 

2417.  Something  is  wrong  here.  B  gives  no  light-  Hazlitt-Dodsley 
has  changed  the  line  to  '  And  flies  abroad,  pursu'd,  by  her  fierce 
hate  '.  I  propose  to  read  '  Flies,  vpon  heels  pursu'd  by  her  fierce 
hate  '.  In  this  way  nothing  is  changed  in  the  text,  only  a  missing 
word  restored.  For  the  omission  of  the  article  cp.  the  quotation  of 
1646  in  N-  E.  D.  i.  v.  heel  10,  and  such  expressions  as  down  at  heel, 
out  at  heels- 

2418.  B  his. 
2427.  B  veine. 

2428-  Perhaps  '  do  '  has  fallen  out  before  '  keepe  '. 

2434-  Read  '  his  repentant  teares  '.  K  verso,  both  in  A  and  B,  bears 
traces  of  corruption.  Cp.  the  faulty  metre  of  2426,  6- 

2473.  One  would  expect  'my  Master  is  chiefe',  but  perhaps  Hue 
means  to  hint  that  in  Justice  Reason's  house  the  grey  mare  is  the 
better  horse. 

2624-  Gods  precious.  See  Englische  Studien  XXIV,  33. 

2527.  After  '  matter '  there  should  be  a  mark  of  punctuation.  B  has 
a  comma. 

2647.  B  has  'beg'. 

2562-  Never  was  such  an  unprofitable  bargain  made.  '  To  sell  '  is 
rarely  used  with  '  bargain '  except  in  'to  sell  any  one  a  bargain  ', 
to  make  a  fool  of  him. 

258o,i.  Cp-  Franz,  Shakespeare  Grammatik  §  5o2.  The  usual  con 
struction  is  '  For  any  man  to  sell  such  drugs  is  felony  '. 

2593.  In  pronouncing  his  strict  punishment.  An  uncommon  use 
of  the  verb  '  censure  ',  but  cp.  N-  E.  D.  censure,  v.  4.  A  similar  use 


of  censure  is  found  in  the  following  passage  frow  Heywood,  A  Woman 
killed  with  Kindness  II,  i  :  his  case  is  heinous,  And  will  be  most 
severely  censured  on.  Cp.  But  I  begin  To  censure  first  of  that  which 
growes  within.  The  Rovall  King,  and  the  Loyall  Subject  (Heywood,  VI, 
62).  Would  all  her  kin  Were  heere  to  censure  of  my  cause  aright.  The 
First  Part  of  king  Edward  the  Fourth,  Heywood,  I,  77  ;  ed.  1874)  Cp. 
1  56. 

2602.  For  '  mar  '  as  an  intransitive  verb.  =  '  to  become  deteriora 
ted  ',  see  N.  E-  £>. 

2606.  B  has  also  Dad-  Cp.  Sejanus,  IV,  4  •  Since  your  mother  is 
accused  to  fly. 

2609-  For  the  form  '  denay  '  cp.  N.  E-  D.  i.  v-  deny. 

2610.  B  has  a  mark  of  interrogation  after  '  not  '• 

2612.  This  line  is  corrupt  in  A  and  B.  Hazlitt-Dodsley  has  changed 
it  into  :  '  As  he  knew  me  ;  my  meaning  was  only  to  have  it '.  This 
part  of  the  play  seems  to  be  seriously  corrupted,  for  1-  2620,  also, 
makes  no  sense  where  it  stands.  One  gets  the  impression  that  11. 
2612  and  2621  ought  to  be  spoken  by  Young  Arthur  and  that  some 
thing  has  dropped  out. 

2622-  B  sent. 

2633.  B  has  a  comma  after  '  by  '. 

2662-  Whom  for  who  in  A  and  B  ;  a  common  case  of  attraction, 
The  whole  sentence  is  loosely  constructed- 

2669.  Cp.  Be  it  whom  it  will.  Greenes  Tu  Quoque.  Hazlitt-Dodsley 
XI,  228. 

2699.  Cf.  1086. 

27o3.  For  discourse  as  a  transitive  verb-  cp.  The  Silent  Woman  IV,  2  : 
Discourse  to  them  all  that's  past. 

2730.  Keep  home-  Cf.  True  zeale  loues  to  keep  home  (1616),  quoted 
N.  E-  D.  i-  v.  home  3-  A  tear  runs  down  the  middle  of  this  page  from 
1.  2730  to  1.  2737,  spoiling  the  words  '  and,  harme,  chast,  and  on,  striue 
to,  ioy,  choose  ',  which  have  been  restored  from  B- 


Index  to  the  Notes 


account  1746 
accuse  2606 
advised,  be  —  149 
affect  289,  860,  2327 
again  192 
amidst  2090 
anatomy  icc5 
any  i58 

as  in  presenti  1267 
Avernus  lake  1048 
back  return  327 
bear  a  thought  16 
beard  out  of  2206 
become  1929,  2i85 
beg  on  2375 
bent  120 
bestow  1410 
better  74 
bithmasse  88 
black  is  her  eye  2199 
bona  roba  2079 
book  407 
boystrous  2148 
bracelets  of  hair  365 
brave  1176,  i352 
bug  1363 
busk-point  364 
campus  640 
canary  sack  822 
candle-case  i632 
cannot  away  with  235 
canary  i6i3 
carriage  958 


censure  56,  2 
chance  i54 
check  473 
chimneystock  1486 
chittiface  io65 
circumstance  713 
cling  417 
come  726 
come  near  904 
commit  191 
complain  upon  782 
congy  379 
conjunction  911 
counsel  2116 
course  i855 
coxcomb  1046 
cozen  2258 
crack  i57 
create  2171 
crish  crosse  in3 

crown  1 57 

cue  342 

currant  1457 

cutter  2257 

dash  383,  1076 

denay  2609 

depose  877 

desire  i33o 

diet  1181 

discourse  2703 

dissimulary  1281 

dizard  687 

Doctor  Dee  696 


I  IIS 


draw  1957 

dress  2210 

duck  708 

earrings  366 

Euphuism  1246 

every  foot  174 

Exchange  4 

expert  io32,  io83 

expostulate  1790 

fall  784 

fall  in  865 

fare  149 

first  1919 

first,  at  the  —  23 

flat  i3g 

fore  God  i35 

frame  421 

fray  1608 

frustrate  626 

garters  36g 

gets  1224 

gloves  2099 

God  for  thy  passion  982 

Gods  precious  2627 

gogs  zounds  923 

gree  77 

grief  shortens  life  279 

grief  sits  near  my  heart  607 

grim  Malkin  1076 

gut  of  men  1071 

happily  3io 

have  i5g6 

have  to  thee  1739 

hoar  —  whore  2261 

hoboy  1256 

huffing  2121 

humorist  362 

humour  n33,  2276 

I  wail  in  woe  1068 


impute  1 586 

indifference  247 

inamorato  1252 

it  527 

Jack  a  Lent  1066 

Jack  Sauce  2187 

jerk  io32,  1245 

keep  home  273o 

Lady  Willoughby  653 

lattice  1448 

lawless  church  2o5o 

lean  envy  1066 

leg  379 

lewd  1571 

like  of  2119 

look  1106 

Lord  of  Misrule  n83 

make  work  107 

mall  1034 

man  1782 

man  forth  2198 

mar  2602 

marybones  682 

marry  433 

marry  come  up  2i83 

may  827 

melancholy  362 

might  52 

mind  2338 

miscall  682 

misconster  227 

moon  in  the  wain  1067 

most  84,  532 

motion  2060 

move  1997 

much  good  do  it  2162 

muchato  917 

natural  fool  64 

object  465 


ng 


occasion  382 

odds  y3 

of  their  times  646 

on  sooth  1707 

once  557,  58g 

order,  to  take  —  757 

out  426 

ovenstone  1476 

Pancridge  i63g 

parson  i635 

pash  1034,  1046 

pedant  711 

pepper  i3i5 

persist  627 

pity  6i3 

pleasure  278 

poor  John  1071 

pose  1622 

preface  i5gg 

proine  1607 

prove  628 

punto  reverse  919 

puritant  1662 

put  off  817 

put  over  legs  1578 

quaint  38i,  683 

rack  i6c6 

read  on  1696 

reckoning  book  486 

recure  1423 

repent  1677 

rid  1086 

right  1720 

riot  it  627 

rodix  ?o5 

ruffling  2121 

sad  414 

sake,  for  pitie  —  148 

salt  1481 


sed 

sell  a  bargain  2562 

sennet  2o55 

set  to  school  69 

shaking  of  the  sheets  1074 

shame  2367 

she  tongue  1164 

sheepbiter  io65 

shelter  for  1218 

shrow  89,  90 

sildome  F96 

snudge  1821 

so  1592 

so  so  2299 

sonnet  378 

sowse  1604 

splay  900 

strain  courtesy  1772 

strange  338 

strived  398 

subaudi  2255 

tail  i5i6 

tall  916 

tell  true  7 

temperature  2147 

tender  297,  2041 

timeless  2o56 

to  695 

token,  by  the  same  —  1119 

tool  920 

train  1934 

trish  trash  704 

unaware  1145 

unpossible  2262 

unthrift  8o5 

upon  i856 

upshot  594 

use  conference  1108 

velvet  926 


120 


venture  186  will  8i3,  1379 

vilde  1212  witty  fool  67 

wamble  162  wroong  405 

wash  one's  hands  1897  zoanes  56i 


Addenda  et  corrigenda 

169.  There  is  a  faint  trace  of  a  colon  after  '  him ';  B  has  a 

colon. 
178.  I  am  not  quite  sure  that  there  is  a  period  at  the  end  of 

this  line ;  B  has  no  stop. 
192.  Cp.  Go,  Hans,  make  haste  again.  Dekker,  The  Shoemaker's 

Holiday  iv,  2.  Lets  flic  to  and  againe.  The  Merry  Devil 

of  Edmonton  iv,  i. 
217.  Read  served. 
333.  The  metre  is  restored  by  inserting  *  my  '  before  '  mind  '. 

p.  59.  For  i8co  read  1895. 

p.  72.  For  second  235o  read  2355,   and  for  2355,   236o  read 
236o,  2365. 


Materialien  zur   Kunde 

des 
alteren   Englischen   Dramas 


Iflaterialien  zor  Ifande 

des  altepen  Englisehen  Dramas 

UNTER  MITWIRKUNG  DER  HERREN 


F.  S.  Boas-LoNDON,  A.  Brandl-BERLiN,  R.  Brotanek-PRAG,  F.  I.  Carpenter- 
CHICAGO,  Ch.  £rawford-LoNDON,  G.  B.  Churchill-AMHERST,  W.  Creizenach- 
KRAKAU,  E.  Eckhardt-FREiBURG  i.  B.,  A.  Feuillerat-ReNNES,  R.  Fischer- 
INNSBRUCK,  W.W.  Greg-LoNDON,  F.  Holthausen-KiEL,  J.  HOOPS-HEIDELBERG, 
W.  Keller-MiiNSTER,  R.  B.  Me  Kerrow-LoNDON,  G.  L.  Kittredge-CAMBRiDGE, 
MASS.,  E.  Koeppel-SxRASSBURG,  J.  Le  Gay  Brereton-SlDNEV,  H.  Logeman- 
GENT,  J.  M.  Manly-CmcAGO,  G.  Sarrazin-BRESLAU,  f  L.  Proescholdt-FRiED- 
RICHSDORF,  A.  Schroer-CoLN,  G.  C.  Moore  Smith-SnEFFiELD,  G.  Gregory 
Smith-BELFAST,  A.  E.  H.  Swaen-GRONINGEN,  A.  H.  Thorndike-NEW-YoRK, 
t  A.  Wagner-HALLE  A.  S. 

BEGRUENDET  UND    HERAUSGEGEBEN 


VON 


W.  BANG 

o.  6.  Professor  der  Englisehen  Philologie  an  der  Universitat  Louvain 


SECHS  UND  DREISSIGSTER  BAND 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 


LEIPZIG 


O.  HARRASSOWITZ 


LONDON 

DAVID  NUTT 


IQI2 


THE  FLEIRE 


BY 


EDWARD     SHARPHAM 


NACH   DER  QUARTO    1607 


HERAUSGEGEBEN 


VON 


HUNOLD  NIBBE 


LOUVAIN 

A.  UYSTPRUYST 

LEIPZIG  LONDON 

O.  HARRASSOWITZ  DAVID  NUTT 

IQI2 


§  i.  Edward  Sharphams  Leben  '). 

Das  Dictionary  of)  N(ational)  B(iography)  und  Hutchinson 2) 
berichten  iiber  Edward  Sharphams  personliche  Verhaltnisse 
nur,  dass  der  Dichter  als  dritter  Sohn  eines  Richard  Sharpham 
of  Colehanger  in  der  Pfarrei  East  Allington,  Devonshire, 
geboren  und  am  9.  Oktober  1694  in  den  Middle  Temple  auf- 
genommen  wurde,  ohne  sich  als  Jurist  durch  bedeutende 
Leistungen  auszuzeichnen.  In  den  Pfarrregistern  der  St.  An 
drew's  Church,  East  Allington,  finden  wir  folgende  zweifellos 
auf  unsern  Dichter  und  seine  Familie  beziiglichen  Eintra- 
gungen  : 

A.D.  The  XXIIth  3)  of  July  was  baptized  Edward  Sharpham  the  sonne 

1 5y6         of  Mr  Richard  Sharpham  &  Marye  his  wyffe. 

1679  The  Xth  of  May  was  baptized  Susanna  Sharpham  the  daughter 

of  Mr  Richard  Sharpham  and  Mary  his  wyfe. 

1581  The  XXIXth  day  of  August  Mr  Richard  Sharpham  was  buryed. 

Richard  Sharphams  Witwe  verheiratete  sich  am  2.  Oktober 

1582  zu  Cornworthy  zum  zweitenmale,  und  zwar  mit  Alexander 
Hexte  of  Staverton  4),  dem  dritten  Sohn  des  John  Hexte  of 


*)  Da  mir  Herr  Prof.  G.  C.  Moore  Smith  (Sheffield;  kurz  vor  Drucklegung 
vorliegender  Arbeit  nach  personlicher  Riicksprache  mit  mir  seine  Bemer- 
kungen  iiber  Sharphams  Leben  [N(otes)  and  Q(ueries)  N°  287  (X.  Series, 
July  u,  1908)  «  Edward  Sharpham  and  Robert  Hayman  »],  die  mir  bis  dahin 
in  Deutschland  unzuganlich  geblieben  waren,  freundlichst  zur  Verfugung 
stellte,  machte  ich  sie  nachtraglich  zur  Grundlage  meiner  biographischen 
Notizen.  Die  Eintragungen  in  den  Parish  Registers  weichen  in  der  Gestalt, 
in  der  sie  Prof.  Moore  Smith  in  den  N.  and  Q.  wiedergibt,  an  einzelnen 
Stellen  von  den  Kopien  ab,  die  sei'nerzeit  Herr  J.J.  Mallock,  der  gegen- 
wartige  Pfarrer  von  East  Allington,  fur  mich  anfertigte.  Die  von  mir  im 
Folgenden  gewahlte  Form  der  Eintragungen  beruht  auf  erneuter  Korres- 
pondenz  mit  Prof.  Moore  Smith  und  Herrn  Mallock.  Vgl.  auch  Anm.  3  u.  5. 

*)  «  A  Catalogue  of  Notable  Middle  Templars  ». 

3)  Dafiir  in  den  N.  and  Q.  :  XXVIth.  Neuerdings  halt  Herr  Prof.  Moore 
Smith  ebenfalls  meine  (und  Mallocks)  Lesart  fur  die  wahrscheinlichere. 
Das  XXIIth  erklart  sich  aus  der  in  jener  Zeit  iiblichen  Form  two  and  twentieth. 

4)  Dieser  war  vorher  (nach  der  am  27.  Juni  i58o  in  Exeter  ausgefertigten 
Heiratslizenz)  mit  Mary  Ellacott  aus  Exeter  verheiratet  gewesen  (tt,  and 
Q.  ib.). 

I 


Kingston  (N.  and  Q.  ib.).  Auf  diesen  Alexander  Hexte  und 
seine  Nachkommen  beziehen  sich  folgende  Eintragungen  in 
die  East  Allington-Register  : 


A.D. 

1583/4 
1585/6 


i586 


1 586 


i588 


The  XIXth  of  January  was  baptized  George  Hext  the  sonne  of 
Mr  Alexander  Hext  and  Mary  his  wyfe. 

The  VI«»  5)  of  March  was  baptized  John  Hext  and  Peter  the 
sonnes  of  Mr  Alexander  Hext  and  Mrs  Mary  his  wyfe. 

The  XXth  of  June  John  Hext  the  sonne  of  Mr  Alexander  and 
Mrs  Mary  his  wyfe  was  buryed. 

The  XIth  of  July  Peter  Hext  the  sonne  of  Alexander  Hext  and 
Mrs  Mary  his  wyfe  was  buryed. 

The  XIIII  [sic]  of  July  Mr  Alexander  Hext  was  buryed. 


Die  nachste  zeitgenossische,  Sharpham  betreffende  Notiz 
ist  jene  vom  9.  Oktober  i5g4  in  den  «  Admissions  to  the  Middle 
Temple  »  ;  der  Neuaufgenommene  wird  dort  bezeichnet  als 
«  Mr.  Edward,  third  son  of  Richard  Sharpham,  late  ofColehanger, 
Devon,  gent.,  deceased  ».  Mit  einer  Advokatur  wurde  der  junge 
Jurist  niemals  beauftragt ;  auch  scheint  er  seine  Berufspflichten 
von  Anfang  an  vernachlassigt  zu  haben,  derm  wir  erfahren, 
dass  er  zweimal  disciplinarisch  bestraft  wurde,  und  zwar  i5g5 
mit  20  s  «  for  absence  at  Christmas  »  und  am  21.  Mai  i5g6 
wiederum  mit  20  s  «/or  absence  and  being  out  of  commons  in  Lent 
and  during  Mr.  Johnsons  Readings  (N.  and  Q.  ib.). 

1607  erscheinen  zwei  Komodien  6)  unseres  Dichters  im 
Druck  ;  die  zweite  widmete  er  seinem  personlichen  Freunde 
Robert  Hay  man. 

Das  einzige  weitere,  den  lebenden  Sharpham  angehende 
Dokument  ist  endlich  das  von  Prof.  Moore  Smith  im  Som- 
merset  House  unter  dem  falschen  Index  'Sharpman1  gefundene 
Testament  des  Dichters,  mit  folgendem  Wortlaut  : 

«  Windebanck,  46. 

In  the  name  of  God  amen.  The  twoe  and  twentithe  daie  of  Aprill  one 
thowsand  sixe  hundred  and  eighte  and  in  the  yeares  of  the  Raigne  of  oure 
sovereign  Lorde  James  by  the  grace  of  god  kinge  of  England  Scotland 
ffraunce  and  Ireland  defendor  of  the  faithe  &c.  (that  is  to  saie  of  England 


5)  Vgl.  in  den  N.  and  Q.  ib.  :  VII*. 

6)  Eine  ausfiihrliche  Besprechung  des  von  Prof.  Moore  Smith  ebenfalls 
Sharpham  zugeschriebenen  und  mir  in  einer  Abschrilt  giitigst  von  ihm  zur 
Verliigung  gestellten  Traktates  «  The  Discoveries  of  the  Knights  of  the 
Post  »  by  4E.  S.'  (1597)  werde  ich  an  anderer  Stelle  folgen  lassen. 


—  3  — 

ffrau'ce  and  Ireland  the  sixth  and  of  Scotland  the  one  and  fourtithe 
I  Edvvarde  Sharpham  of  Allington  in  the  countie  of  Devon  gent  beinge 
sicke  in  bodye  but  of  good  and  perfect  memorie  lawde  and  praise  be  ther- 
fore  given  vnto  allmightye  god  doe  make  and  ordeine  this  my  last  will  and 
testament  in  manner  &  fourme  followinge  (that  is  to  saie)  ffirste  and  prin- 
cipallie  I  give  and  commende  my  soule  into  the  handes  of  allmightye  god 
my  Creator  and  Maker  trustinge  &  moste  assuredlye  beleevinge  in  his 
mercye  that  throughe  the  merritts  deathe  and  passion  of  his  only  sonne  my 
Savior  and  Redeemer  Jhesus  Christe  I  have  and  shall  have  full  and  free 
Remission  of  all  my  synnes  and  after  this  transitorie  lief  ended  everlastinge 
ioye  in  the  Kingdome  of  Heaven  wch  nevir  shall  have  ende  Amen.  Item 
I  give  and  bequeethe  my  bodie  to  the  earthe  of  whence  it  came  to  be  buried 
in  a  Christian  buriall  at  the  discrec'on  of  my  executor  and  Overseers  here 
after  named.  Item  I  geve  devise  and  bequeathe  vnto  William  Gayton  of 
Westmr  in  the  countie  of  Midd  Taylor  all  and  singuler  my  Apparell  goods 
Chattels  debts  som'es  of  money  due  and  oweinge  vnto  me  by  any  person 
or  persons  whatsoeu'  by  specialtye  composic'on  or  otherwise.  Item  I  doe 
geve  devise  and  bequeathe  vnto  my  Brothr  George  Heckste  7)  my  damosin 
coloured  Cloake  lyned  throughe  wlh  blacke  velvett  &  my  Rapier  beinge 
hatched  wth  silver  and  a  gyrdle  and  Hangers  trymmed  wth  silver  belonginge 
to  the  same  Item  I  give  devise  and  bequeathe  vnto  my  Cosyn  Hridgitt 
ffortescue  8)  my  Cheyne  of  small  pearle  and  my  goulde  Ringe  wth  the 
diamond  therin  Item  I  give  devise  and  bequeathe  vnto  my  Brother  in  lawe 
Richard  Goteham  9)  my  rydinge  Clothe  cloake  and  one  Gyrdle  and  Hanger 
of  Leather  playne  &  vnwroughte  And  I  give  devise  and  bequeathe  vnto  mv 
Cosynne  William  Langworthie  10)  my  pale  Carnation  silke  Stockings.  And 
of  this  my  last  will  and  testament  I  make  nominate  and  appointe  my  well 
beloued  the  sayde  William  Gayton  my  fulle  and  whole  Executor  And 
I  make  and  ordeine  Robert  Browne  of  Westmr  in  the  said  Countie  of  Midd. 
Notary  publicque  and  Thomas  Rowpe  of  Milton  in  the  County  of  Devon 
gent.  Overseers  of  the  same  desyringe  them  to  see  the  Execuc'on  thereof 
performed  And  I  vtterlie  revoke  adnihilate  and  make  voide  all  and  everye 
other  former  Wills  Testaments  Legacies  and  bequests  in  any  wise  by  me 
heretofore  made  In  wittnes  whereof  I  have  to  this  my  last  will  and  testament 
conteyninge  twoe  sheetes  of  paper  severailie  putte  my  hande  and  sealle 
the  daie  and  yeare  firste  of  all  written.  , 

The  marke  of  Edwarde  Sharpham 

Signed  sealled  published  and  declared  by  the  saide  Edwarde  Sharpeham 
to  be  his  last  will  and  testam*  in  the  presence  of  John  Owen  ll)  Rob'te 
Browne  Nofy  publique  Robert  Askewe. 

Probatum  fuit    Testamentu'  suprascript   apud  London  cora'....   Magro 
Willmo  Birde  legum  d'tore....  Nono  die  mensis  Maij  Anno....  millesimo 
sexcentesimo  octavo  luramento  Willm'  Gayton  Executoris....  ». 
(Citiert  nach  N.  and  Q.  ib.). 

7)  Ein  George  Hexte  war  1620  Alderman  in  Dunheved,   Launceston 
(N.andQ.  ib.). 

8)  In  den  Pfarrregi stern  von  East  Allington  findet  sich  die  Eintragung  : 
«  1619,  Bridget  Fortescue  was  buried  i  November  ». 

9;  Vielleicht  der  Gemahlder  Susanna  Sharpham. 

10)  Die  Familie  Langworthie  war  in  Devonshire  (zum  Teil  in  East  Alling 
ton)  ansassig  (N.  and  Q.  ib.). 

11)  Wohl  der  Epigrammendichter,  den  Rob.  Hayman  ins  Englische  iiber- 
setzte  (vgl.  o.  sowie  pp.  43  f.  u.  Anm.  zu  Fl.  Ill,  196  ff.). 


Endlich  verzeichnet  das  Kirchenbuch  der  St.  Margaret's 
Church  am  23.  April  1608  unter  «  burials  »  den  Namen  «  Ed 
ward  Sharpham  »  mit  besonders  grossen  Schriftzeichen,  wie 
sie  (nach  Moore  Smith,  N.  and  Q.  ib.)  Verstorbenen  «  of  super 
ior  station  »  in  jener  Zeit  zukamen. 

Nach  diesem  allerdings  sparlichen  Material  konnen  wir  uns 
von  dem  ausseren  Lebensgange  unseres  Dichters  etwa  fol- 
gendes  Bild  entwerfen  : 

Edward  Sharpham  wurde  im  Jahre  1576  als  dritter  Sohn  12) 
des  Gutsbesitzers  Richard  Sharpham  und  seiner  Frau  Mary 
auf  dem  Gute  Colehanger  in  East  Arlington  in  Devonshire 
geboren.  Der  Knabe  war  kaum  fiinf  Jahre  alt,  als  sein  Vater 
starb.  Etwa  ein  Jahr  spater  gab  die  Mutter  ihren  vier  unrmin- 
digen  Kindern  (1579  hatte  sie  einer  Tochter  das  Leben  ge- 
geben)  einen  neuen  Vater,  indem  sie  sich  mit  Alexander  Hext 
in  East  Allington  vermahlte.  Von  den  drei  Sohnen,  die  sie 
diesem  gebar,  starben  die  beiden  jiingsten,  Zwillinge,  wenige 
Wochen  nach  der  Geburt.  Obgleich  auch  Edwards  Stiefvater 
wenige  Jahre  spater  zu  Grabe  getragen  wurde,  wusste  es  die 
Mutter,  wohl  dank  des  ihr  vom  ersten  Gemahle  hinterlassenen 
Besitzes,  durchzusetzen,  den  begabten  dritten  Sohn  auf  die 
Universitat  zu  schicken.  Schon  mit  achtzehn  Jahren  hatte  der 
junge  Sharpham  seine  juristischen  Studien  beendet  und  begab 
sich  nach  Londen,  wo  er  im  Herbst  1694  in  die  vornehme 
Gemeinschaft  des  Middle  Temple  aufgenommen  wurde.  Seinen 
Beruf  Hess  Sharpham  jedoch  anscheinend  allmahlich  verkiim- 
mern,  um  sich,  vielleicht  beeinflusst  durch  seine  enge  Freund- 
schaft  13)  mit  dem  Epigrammendichter  Robert  Hayman,  der 
Literatur  und  in  erster  Linie  der  grosseren  materiellen  Gewinn 
verheissenden  Biihnendichtung  zuzuwenden.  Spatestens  im 
Friihling  1606  (vgl.  unten  pp.  29  ff.)  vollendete  er  sein  erstes 
dramatisches  Werk,  die  Komodie  «  The  Fleire  »,  die  mehrfach 
am  Blackfriars-Theater  aufgefiihrt  (vgl.  unten  ib.)  und  1607 
gedruckt  wurde.  Dieser  sprachlich  und  inhaltlich  annehm- 
baren  Arbeit  folgte  schon  im  nachsten  Jahre  ein  nach  unsern 


12)  Seine  alteren  Briider  scheinen  vor  ihm  gestorben  zu  sein,  da  er  sie 
nicht,  wie  seinen  Stiefbruder  George  Hext,  in  seinem  Testament  erwahnt. 

13)  Vgl.    unten    pp.    48    f.  Uber  personliche  Beziehungen   Sharphams 
zu  anderen  Literaten  vgl.  W.  Bangs  Bemerkung  in  «  Engl.  Stud.  »  36.  3. 


Begriffendurchaus  wertloses  dramatisches  Machwerk, "Cupid's 
Whirligig  »,  das  aber  ebenfalls  aufgefiihrt  wurde  und  min- 
destens  drei  weitere  Auflagen  erlebte  (1607,  1611,  1616  und 
i63o  u)).  Wenn  also  auch  der  Widerspruch  des  Publikums 
gegen  die  seichten  Dialogobsconitaten  dieses  sonst  inhaltsarmen 
Werkes  nicht  gross  genug  gewesen  zu  sein  scheint,  um  dem 
Verfasser  die  Lust  an  weiterer  schriftstellerischer  Arbeit  rauben 
zu  konnen,  so  horen  wir  doch  von  irgend  einer  literarischen 
Tatigkeit  Sharphams  nichts  mehr ;  auch  eine  am  Schlusse  von 
«  Cupid's  Whirligig  »  versprochene  neue  Komodie  bleibt  aus, 
und  die  weiteren  Auflagen  des  «  Fleire  »  (1610,  i6i5,  i63i) 
tragen  als  Vorwort  «  an  den  Leser  und  Horer  »  (vgl.  p.  [i]) 
immer  noch  dieselben,  den  veranderten  Umstanden  nicht  mehr 
entsprechenden,  interimistischen  Worte  des  ehemaligen 
Verlegers  ;  der  Dichter  hat  seinem  Publikum  nichts  mehrzu 
sagen.  Vielleicht  wurde  er  schon  bald  nach  der  Abfassung 
seiner  ersten  Dramen  15)  zu  schriftstellerischer  Untatigkeit 
gezwungen  —  wenn  er  auch  noch  kurz  vor  seinem  Tode  tiber 
sein  « good  and  perfect  memorie  »  (vgl.  p.  3)  verfugte  ;  schon 
der  Friihling  des  Jahres  1608  nahm  ihm  («  beinge  sicke  in  bodye  ») 
sein  junges  Leben.  Die  St.  Margaret's  Church  zu  Westminster 
nahm  den  toten  Dichter  auf. 

An  bleibendem  Lohn  scheint  die  Dichtkunst  unserm  Sharp- 
ham  nicht  viel  mehr  eingetragen  zu  haben  als  jenen  besonders 
grossen,  ehrenden  Namenszug  in  den  Begrabnisnotizen  eines 
gutherzigen  Pfarrers.  Zu  materiellem  Wohlstand  wird  den 
Dichter  seine  Kunst  kaum  gefuhrt  haben  :  die  Kargheit 
seines  in  dem  Testamente  bezeichneten  Besitzes,  sowie  das 
darin  ziemlich  unverbliimt  zum  Ausdruck  gebrachte  Schuld- 
verhaltnis  zu  seinem  Schneider  beweisen  das  und  lassen 
ausserdem  vermuten,  dass  er  einem  gewissen  Grossstadt- 
Dandytum  huldigte,  das  sich  einerseits  in  verbramten  Samt- 
rocken,  silberbeschlagenen  Rapieren  und  Diamantringen  und 
andererseits  in  leeren  Taschen  und  ungetilgten  Schulden 


u)  Diese  im  D  N  B  erwahnte  vierte  Ausgabe  habe  ich  nicht  in  Augen- 
schein  nehmen  konnen,  da  sie  im  Brit.  Mus.  nicht  vorhanden  ist. 

l5)  Auch  die  in  Sharphams  Testament  (vgl.  o.)  erwahnten.  friiher  von  ihm 
verfassten  «  Wills  Testaments  Legacies  and  bequests  »  deuten,  falls  an  der 
betr.  Stelle  nicht  rein  formelhaft  angewandt,  darauf  hin,  dass  er  schon 
langere  Zeit  krank  und  dem  Tode  nahe  gewesen  war,  ehe  ihn  dieser  erlostCt 


—  6  - 


iiusserte.  Vielleicht  16)  —  vor  allem  auch  der  Inhalt  der  zweiten 
Sharphamschen  Komodie  widerspricht  dem  nicht  —  hatte  Ben 
Jonson  nicht  so  sehr  unrecht,  wenn  er  Anfang  1619  in  einem 
Gesprache  mit  William  Drummond  (vgl.  Paul  Birck,  Lit. 
Ansp.  in  d.  Werken  B.  J.'s  etc.)  sagte  «  that  Sharpham,  Day, 
Dicker,  were  all  rogues ;  and  that  M  ins  hew  was  one  ».  Die  formel- 
haft  religiose  Farbung  des  Testamentes  ist  kein  Argument 
gegen  Jonsons  Behauptung. 

§  2.  Sharphams  Werke. 

I .  Die  bisherige 
Sharphams  Werke  beriicksichtigende  Literatur. 

Im  Folgenden  gebe  ich  eine  chronologische  Aufzahlung  der- 

jenigen  Schriften,  in  denen  ich  Sharpham  oder  seine  Werke 

erwahnt  fand.  Es  moge  vorausgeschickt  sein,  dass  samtliche 

mir   bekannten   Erwahnungen  des   Dichters  im   grossen  und 

ganzen  auf  den  betr.  Bemerkungen  in  Bakers  Biogr.  Dramat. 

fussen.   Ich  beschranke  mich  deshalb  darauf,   die  Titel  der 

betr.   Werke    anzufiihren,    falls  sie  nicht  irgend  welches   in 

unserer  Abhandlung  sonst  unerwahnte  Material  bieten. 

I.  Registers  of  the  Company  of  Stationers,  London  17)  : 

1606. 

XIII.  Maij. 

Entred  for  their  Copie  by  warrant  from 
Master  Norton  vnder  his  hand  A  Comedie 
called  The  fleare.  Provided  that  they  are 
not  to  printe  yt  tell  [sic]  they  bringe  good 
aucthoritie  and  license  for  the  Doinge 
thereof  vjd 

21.  Novembris. 

Entred  for  their  Copie  by  assignement 
from  John  Trundell  A  Comedie  called  the 
ffleare  which  was  formerlie  entred  to  the 
said  John  Trundell,  vjd 


John  Trundell 
John  Busbye 


John  Busbie  and 
Arthure  Johnson 


lfi)  Prof.  Moore  Smith  kommt  allerdings  (N.  and  Q.  ib.)  zu  der  m.  E.  nicht 
notwendigen  Folgerung,  dass  Sharpham  selbst  von  ehrenwertem  Charakter 
gewesen  sein  miisse,  weil  er  mit  dem  offenbar  achtenswerten  Robert 
Hayman  eng  befreundet  war. 

n)  Neuausgabe  :  Edw.  Arber  «  Transcript  of  the  Company  of  Stationers 
of  London  (1554-1640) ».  London,  1875-1877  (4  vols.).  vol.  Ill  pp.  3ai,  333,  354. 


This  booke  is  aucthorised  by  Sir  George   Bucke  Master 
Hartwell  and  the  wardens/. 


John  Busbye 
Arthur  Johnson 


1607. 
29.  Junij. 

Entred  for  their  copye  vnderth[e  h]andes 
of  master  Tylney  and  the  Wardens  A 
Comedie  called  Cupids  Whir  ley  gigge  1(M. 


2.  Waldron,  F.  G.  «  The  Sad  Shepherd  »  :  or,  A  Tale  of 
Robin  Hood,  written  by  Ben.  Jonson.  With  a  Continuation, 
Notes,  and  an  Appendix  18a).  Lond.  1783.  p.  144  ft'.  (Cf.  unten 
pp.45ff.). 

3.  Baker,   D.  E.,   Reed,  J.,  and  Jones,  St.,  «  Biographia 
Dramatica  ;  or,  a  Companion  to  the  Playhouse  ».  London  1812; 
vol.  I,  p.  649  ;  vol.   II,  p.   146  (vgl.  u.  pp.  41  f.),  ib.  p.  241. 
Eine  friihere  Ed.  des  Werkes  (1782)  gibt,  wie  mir  Prof.  Moore 
Smith  mitteilt,  unter  dem  falschen  Autornamen  Edward  Sharp- 
man  ebenfalls  kurze,  auf  Langbaines  «  Dramatic  Writers  »  Ox 
ford  1691  (p.  471)  zuriickgehende  Quellennotizen  zum  «  Fleire  ». 

4.  Collier,  J.  P.  «  History  of  English  Dramatic  Poetry  to 
the  Time  of  Shakespeare.  »  Lond.  i83i  ;  vol.  I,  p.  434. 

5.  «  Wit  And  Wisdom  ;  or  the  World's  Jest  Book  :  forming  a 
rich  Banquet  of  Anecdote  and  Wit,  etc.  »  London  s.  a.  (Gedr. 
bei  Joseph  Smith,  ig3,  High  Holborn,  etwa  i83o)  p.  g3.  (vgl. 
unten  p.  42). 

6.  Genest,  John,  «  Some  Account  of  the  English  Stage  from 
the  Restoration  in  1660  to  i83o  ».   London  [Bath].   i832.   Der 
Verfasser  hat  offenbar  sowohl  den  «  Fleire  »,  wie  «  Cupids 
Whirligig  »  gelesen,  denn  er  widmet  beiden  eine  Kritik  des 
Inhalts  ;  vom  «  Fleire  »  gibt  er  sogar  eine  vollstandige  Inhalts- 
angabe  mit  der  Bemerkung  :  «  Fleire  is  a  very  good  character... 
and  the  play  on  the  whole  a  tolerable  Comedy...  »  (vol.  X,  p.  94). 


18j  Herr  Prof.  Moore  Smith  machte  mich  ferner  darauf  aufmerksam,  dass 
in  den  S.  R.  unter  dem  29.  Januar  1629-30  der  Ubergang  aller  Verlagsrechte 
betr.  «  Cupids  Whirkgig  \  Michalmas  lerme  \  The  merry  Wives  of  Winsor  \  The 
Phenix  »  von  master  Johnson  auf  master  Meighen  verzeichnet  ist. 

18a)  In  Gregs  Neuausg.  des  «  Sad  Sheph.  »  etc.  (Mater,  zur  K*  d.  alt. 
Engl.  Dram.  XI)  fehlt  der  Appendix, 


Uber  «  Cupids  Whirligig  »  sagt  er  ;  «  It  is  a  poor  play,  with 
nothing  to  recommend  it,  except  some  low  humour  in  the 
dialogue  »  (ib.  p.  g3). 

7.  M alone,  Edmund,  «  Catalogue  of  Early  English  Poetry, 
and  other  Miscellaneous  Works  illustrating  The  British  Dra 
ma  ».  Oxford  i836  ;  p.  40. 

8.  Gifford,  William,  «  Works  of  Benjamin  Jonson»  ing  vols. 
Lond.  1875  ;  vol.  IX,  p.  368  f.  und  Anmerkung  dazu. 

9.  Alii  bone,  S.  Austin,  «  A  Critical  Dictionary  of  English 
Literature  ».  Philadelphia  1877  ;  vol.  II,  p.  2o58. 

10.  Fleay,  Frederick  Gard,  «  A  Biographical  Chronicle  of 
the  English  Drama  »,  1559-1642.  London  1891  ;  vol.  II.  p.  232. 

11.  Hazlitt,  W.  Carew,  «  A  Manual  for  the  Collector  and 
Amateur  of  Old  English  Plays  ».  London  1892  ;  pp.  56  und  86. 

12.  Chappell,  W.,   «  The  Ballad  Literature  and  Popular 
Music  of  the  Olden  Time  ».  London  1893  (2.  Aufl.) ;  p.  149  (vgl. 
die  Anm.  zu  Fl.  Ill,  169  u.  170). 

13.  «  Dictionary  of  National  Biography  ».  London  1897; 
vol.  5i,  p.  232.  Dort  ist  alles  zusammengetragen,  was  bisher 
iiber  Edward  Sharpham  und  seine  Werke  bekannt  war.  Auch 
die  bei  Fleay,   Baker  u.  a.  zweifellos  falschen   Daten  finden 
sich  im  DNB  teilweise  schon  berichtigt. 

14.  Hutchinson,  John,  «  A  Catalogue  of  Notable  Middle 
Templars  with  Brief  Biographical  Notices  ».  S.  1.  1902.  (vgl. 
oben  p.  i). 

15.  Sc helling  «  The  Elizabethan  Drama  ».  London  1908  ; 
vol.  I,  p.  5i8. 

II.  Originalausgaben  der  Werke 
Sharphams  in  chronologischer  Ordnung. 

[i.  Sonett  in  John  Davies'  «  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth  » 
Vgl.  u.  pp.  9  f.  Ed.  i6o5  (Brit.  Mus.  Pr.  M,  :  C.  34.  g.  2)]. 
2.  «  The  Fleire  ». 
S.-R.  i3.  Mai  19)  1606. 

21.  Nov.  1606.  (cf.  oben). 


19)  Fleay,  Hazlitt  und  Collier  geben  falschlicherweise  den  6.  Mai,  Baker 
gibt  den  9.  Mai  als  Datum  der  ersten  Eintragung  an. 


—  9  - 

Ed.  1607  [A]  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  11773.  c.  8). 

1610  [B]  20)  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  11773.  c.  9). 

1615  [C]  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  644.  c.  36  und  162.  e.  i). 
i63i  [D]  2i)  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  162.  e.  2  und  644.  f.  54), 

3.  «  Cupids  Whirligig  ». 

S.-R.  29.  Juni  1607  ")  (s.  o.)  ; 

Ed.  1607  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  643.  c.  9). 

1611  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  643.  c.  10). 

1616  (Br.  Mus.  Pr.-M.  :  643.  c.  n). 
i63o  (im  Br.  Mus.  nicht  vorhanden). 

III.  Besprechung  der  Werke  Sharphams. 

i.  Sonett  in  John  Da  vies' 
«  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth  »  (London  i6o5). 

Die  Widmung  hat  folgenden  Wortlaut : 
To  my  beloued  Master, 

John  Davies. 

When  I  thy  Reasons  weigh,  &  meat  thy  Rimes, 
I  find  they  haue  such  happy  weight  and  measure, 
As  makes  thy  Lines  extend  to  After-times, 
To  leade  them  to  a  Masse  of  Wisedomes  Treasure. 
With  weighty  Matter  so  thou  load'st  thy  Lines, 
As  to  dimme  sights  they  oft  seeme  darke  as  Hell  ; 
But  those  cleere  eies  that  see  their  deepe  designes, 
Do  ioy  to  see  much  Matter  coucht  so  well  ! 
But  these  thy  Numbers  most  familiar  bee  ; 
Because  strange  Matter  plainely  they  recount  : 
For  which  Men  shall  familiar  be  with  thee 
That  know  thee  not ;  and,  make  thy  fame  to  mount. 
I  know  no  Tongues-man  more  doth  grace  his  Tong 
With  more  materiall  Lines,  as  streight  as  strong  ! 

Ed  :  Sharphell. 


«°)  Baker,  Chappell,  Malone  halten  irrtiimlich  diese  Ed.  fur  die  alteste. 
")  Nach  Fleay  :  1621  (Druckf.  ?). 

M)  Fur  John  Busbye  und  Arthur  Johnson  ;  nicht,  wie  Fleay  meint,  fur 
John  Trundel  und  Arthur  Johnson  (s.  o.). 


—   10  — 

Eine  resultatversprechende  Diskussion  der  Autorfrage  lasst 
sich  bei  diesem  Sonett  auf  Grund  seines  Wortlautes  wegen 
des  volligen  Mangels  an  anderen,  ahnlichen,  zum  Vergleiche 
brauchbaren  Werken  kaum  einleiten.  M.  E.  ist  trotz  der  Unter- 
schrift  Ed  :  Sharphell  die  Autorschaft  Edward  Sharphams 
denkbar,  mag  nun  die  seltsame  Entstellung  des  Familiennamens 
auf  einem  Versehen  des  Druckers  oder  einer  Spielerei  des 
damals  durchaus  unbekannten  Verfassers  beruhen.  Jedenfalls 
ist  der  Literaturgeschichte  ein  Ed.  Sharphell  nicht  bekannt 
geworden  ;  auch  DNB  erwahnt  den  Namen  nur  als  iden- 
tisch  mit  Sharpham.  John  Davies  war  «  Writing-master  »  am 
Magdalen  College  zu  Oxford,  Sharphell  also  wie  die  andern 
Personen  23),  die  dem  Davies'schen  Werke  Widmungen  auf 
den  Weg  gaben  oder  deren  der  Autor  in  mehreren  seinem 
Werkchen  «  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth  »  angefugten  Versen 
gedenkt,  sein  Schiller  (vgl.  die  Uberschrift  der  Widmung). 

Von  den  unschonen,  zum  Teil  aber  von  dem  Dichter 
zweifellos  beabsichtigten  Wortwiederholungen  (weigh-w eight- 
weighty  ;  Lines  ;  Matter)  abgesehen,  muss  man  das  Sonett  als 
recht  fliessend  bezeichnen. 

2.  The  Fleire. 

A.    QUELLEMUNTERSUCHUNG. 

Mars  ton  und  Sharpham. 

Nach  den  Quellen  der  Sharpham'schen  Komodie  ist  bis 
jetzt  noch  nicht  eindringlich  gesucht  worden.  Im  DNB 
finden  wir  die  Bemerkung  :  «  The  play  itself  strongly  resembles 
Marston's  lParasitaster'».  Um  die  Stichhaltigkeit  dieser  Angabe 
zu  priifen,  stellen  wir  im  folgenden  kurz  den  wesentlichen 
Inhalt  der  beiden  Dramen  zusammen  : 

Inhalt  des  «  Fleire  ». 

Antifront,  der  Herzog  von  Florenz,  ist  von  Lord  Piso 
abgesetzt  worden.  Seine  Tochter  Felicia  und  Florida  verlassen 
heimlich  das  Vaterhaus,  um  nicht  in  Armut  leben  zu  miissen, 


23)  Auch  diese  reden  samtlich  Davies  mit  «  master  »  an  oder  werden  von 
ihm  als  «  my  scholler  »,  «  my  pupil »  bezeichnet. 


—  II  — 

und  gehen  an  den  englischen  Hof,  wo  ihnen  das  galante  Hof- 
volk  Gelegenheit  gibt,  ihre  Vergniigungssucht  und  Sinnlichkeit 
zu  befriedigen.  Antifront  entdeckt  den  Aufenthalt  seiner  Toch- 
ter,  reist  ihnen  in  Verkleidung  nach  und  lasst  sich  von  ihnen 
unter  dem  Namen  Fleire  als  Diener  annehmen.  Er  weiss  sich 
durch  schmeichlerisches  und  witziges  Reden  bei  alien  so 
beliebt  zu  machen,  dass  er  allmahlich  eine  Vertrauensperson 
der  jungen  Hoflinge  wird.  So  1st  er  imstande,  das  unehren- 
hafte  Leben  seiner  Tochter  zu  beobachten  ;  als  einzige  Mog- 
lichkeit,  sie  vor  volliger  Verderbnis  zu  bewahren,  erscheint  ihm 
ihre  Verheiratung  mit  ritterlichen  Mannern.  Solche  entdeckt 
er  in  dem  jungen  Lord  Piso,  dem  Sohne  seines  Feindes,  und 
dem  armen,  aber  ritterlichen  Sir  John  Havelittle,  die  beide  am 
englischen  Hofe  leben  und  zu  den  Anbetern  der  Schwestern 
gehoren.  Antifront  erhofft  auch  von  einer  Verschwagerung  mit 
der  Familie  Piso  seine  Wiedererhebung  auf  den  florentinischen 
Herzogsstuhl  (vgl.  II,  470  ff.i.  Der  «  Diener  »  Fleire  versucht 
deshalb,  den  Tochtern  das  Verdammenswerte  ihres  Lebens 
bewusst  zu  machen  (II,  165-244),  das  Interesse  der  beiden 
Hoflinge  auf  sie  zu  richten  und  bei  ihnen  Liebe  fur  die  Mad- 
chen  zu  erwecken.  Dieses  gelingt  ihm.  Die  ungeratenen  Toch 
ter  aber  missbrauchen  die  arglosen  Werber,  indem  sie  sie  zu 
Werkzeugen  eines  schweren  Verbrechens  machen  :  Piso  und 
Havelittle  sollen  die  beiden  ehrenhaften  Hoflinge  Ruffell  und 
Spark,  welche  die  gefallige  Liebe  der  aufdringlichen  Madchen 
zuriickgewiesen  hatten,  vergiften.  Fleire  erfahrt  den  Plan  und 
weiss  seine  Ausfiihrung  so  listig  zu  verhindern,  dass  sowohl 
die  Anstifterinnen,  wie  die  Werkzeuge  glauben,  die  Freveltat 
sei  gelungen.  Piso  und  Havelittle  werden  wegen  Mordes  vor 
Gericht  gestellt  und  mitsamt  den  schuldigen  Tochtern  von  dem 
als  Richter  verkleideten  Fleire  dem  Henker  iiberantwortet. 
Im  Angesicht  des  Todes  bereuen  die  Madchen  aufrichtig  und 
bitten  die  beiden  Ritter,  als  ihre  angetrauten  Gatten  mit  ihnen 
in  den  Tod  zu  gehen.  Im  Augenblicke,  da  diese  einwilligen, 
bringt  ein  Bote  aus  Florenz  die  Nachricht  vom  Tode  des  alten 
Piso  :  die  erste  Regierungshandlung  des  jungen,  soeben  zum 
Tode  verurteilten  Herzogs  ist  der  Befehl,  Antifront  wieder  in 
seine  Wiirde  einzusetzen  Fleire  gibt  sich  zu  erkennen  und 
befreit  die  Verurteilten  von  der  Gewissensqual,  einen  Mord 


—  12  — 

begangen  zu  haben  ;  die  Paare  reichen  sich  die  Hande  zum 
Ehebunde. 

Inhalt  von  Mars  tons  «  Parasitaster  or  lThe  Fawn'  ». 

Hercules,  dem  Herzog  von  Ferrara,  der  Witwer  ist,  gelingt 
es  nicht,  seinen  einzigen  Sohn  Tiberio  zum  Heiraten  zu  ver- 
anlassen,  sodass  die  Gefahr  eines  baldigen  Aussterbens  des 
Geschlechtes  besteht.  Um  solches  zu  verhindern,  entschliesst 
sich  Hercules  selbst  zu  einer  zweiten  Heirat  und  sendet  seinen 
Sohn  an  den  Hof  Gonzagos,  des  Herzogs  von  Urbino,  bei 
dem  er  im  Auftrage  des  Vaters  um  die  Hand  der  Prinzessin 
Dulcimel  werben  soil.  Hercules  folgt  dem  Sohne  verkleidet 
nach  Urbino,  um  die  Art  und  Weise  seines  Vorgehens  zu 
beobachten,  bringt  es  fertig,  von  ihm  unter  dem  Namen  Fawn 
als  Diener  angestellt  zu  werden,  und  erfahrt,  da  er  sich  mit 
alien  Hofleuten  gut  zu  stellen  weiss  und  so  auch  in  geheime 
Vorgange  des  hofischen  Lebenseingeweihtwird,  dass  Dulcimel 
Zuneigung  zu  seinem  Sohne  Tiberio  empfindet.  Freudig  ver- 
zichtet  der  Vater  im  Stilleri  auf  die  Hand  der  Prinzessin  zu 
Gunsten  seines  zu  Anfang  allerdings  nur  als  kuhler  Vertreter 
des  Vaters  erscheinenden  Sohnes.  Die  liebende  Dulcimel 
versteht  es  aber,  durch  List  und  Verstellung  bei  Tiberio  heisse 
Gegenliebe  zu  erwecken  und  schliesslich  auch  die  Zustimmung 
ihres  Vaters  zu  der  heimlich  durch  einen  Geistlichen  geschlos- 
senen  Ehe  zu  erlangen.  Ferrara,  dessen  hochster  Wunsch  — 
seinen  Sohn  vermahlt  zu  sehen  —  erfullt  ist,  gibt  sich  zu 
erkennen  und  spendet  dem  jungen  Paare  ebenfalls  seinen 
Segen. — 

Diese  knappen  Inhaltsangabengeniigen,  uns  die  wesentlichen 
Ubereinstimmungen  beider  Dramen,  sowie  auch  ihre  tiefgrei- 
fende  Verschiedenheit  ersichtlich  zu  machen.  Eine  beide  Dra 
men  deckende,  die  Ubereinstimmungen  heraushebende  Inhalts- 
angabe  miisste,  wenn  in  dem  Schema  die  abweichenden  Per- 
sonenverhaltnisse  des  «  Parasitaster  »  in  Klammern  beriick- 
sichtigt  sind,  folgendermassen  lauten  : 

Ein  Herzog  verlasst  verkleidet  sein  Land  und  folgt  seinen 
[seinem]  an  fremdem  Hofe  lebenden  Tochtern  [Sohne],  um  sie 
[ihn]  unerkannt  beaufsichtigen  zu  konnen.  Er  lasst  sich  von 


—  13  — 

ihnen  [ihm]  unter  dem  Namen  Fleire  (=  Scbmeichler)  24) 
[Fawne  (=  Schmeichler)]  als  Diener  annehmen  und  bringt  es 
durch  Schmeichelei  fertig,  von  den  Hofleuten  und  auch  den 
Tochtern  [dem  Sohne]  in  alle.  ihre  intimen  Angelegenheiten 
eingeweiht  zu  werden.  Das  Streben  des  Herzogs  1st  eine 
eheliche  Verbindung  der  Tochter  [des  Sohnes]  mit  den  [der] 
von  ihm  ausersehenen  Personen  [Person].  Als  er  dieses  Ziel 
erreicht  sieht,  gibt  er  sich  dem  Hofe  und  den  Tochtern  [dem 
Sohne]  zu  erkennen. 

Als  wesentliche  Abweichungen  des  «  Fleire  »  von  der  Mar- 
ston'schen  Komodie  stelle  ich  folgende  fest  : 

a.  Die  Haupthandlung  des  «  Parasitaster  »  ist  mit  der  oben 
gegebenen  schematischen  Inhaltsangabe  annahernd  erschop- 
fend  dargestellt.  Sie  zieht  sich  langsam  hin,  ohne  Verwicklung, 
aber  zerrissen  durch  ganz  abseits  laufende,  wenn  auch  zum 
Teil    interessante    Nebenhandlungen    (Don    Zuccone-Zoya, 
Frappatore-Garbetza    und    Nymphadoro-dieHofdamen)    und 
durch  geistreiche   Wortgefechte   einzelner,  der   Haupthand- 
lung  vollstandig  fern  stehender  Personen.  Die  Handlung  des 
«  Fleire  »  ist,  wenn  man  von  der  grotesken  Liebelei  zwischen 
Petoune  und  Fromaga  absieht,   durchaus  einheitlich,    dabei 
aber  viel  ereignisreicher,  lebhafter  als  die  des  «  Par.  »  Jede 
im  Fl.  auftretende  Person  —  ausser  Petoune  und  Fromaga  — 
ist  an  der  Entwicklung  der  Haupthandlung  beteiligt.  So  ergeben 
sich  im  Fl.  bei  aller  Einheit  der  Handlung  doch  Verschlingun- 
gen  mannigfacher  Art. 

b.  Im  Fl.  bezeichnet  der  Titel  den  faktischen,   handelnden 
Helden  des  Stiickes,  der  einesteils  durch  List  und  gewandte 
Gesprachsfuhrung(II,  391-462),  anderenteils  durch  tatkraftiges 
Handeln  [s.  sein  Auftreten  als  Apotheker  zur  Verhinderung 
des  Giftmordes  (IV,  213-287)  und  als  Richter  (V,  IQ2-283)]  iiber 
alle  Hindernisse  hinweg  zur  Erreichung   seines  zweifachen 
Zieles  gelangt.  —  Im  «  Par.  »  sieht  der  Titelheld  allerdings 
auch  ein  ahnliches  Ziel  vor  sich,  tut  aber  selber  zu  seiner 


*4)  Der  Name  ist  eine  Substantivierung  des  Zeitwortes^r  (im  17.  und 
18.  Jahrh.  auch  in  der  Form  fleir(t)  belegt)  'to  laugh  or  smile  flatteringly, 
fawningly'  (OD).  Als  Nomen  Agentis  erscheint  jetzt/^r^r. 


—  14  — 

Erreichung  durchaus  nichts  25)  und  kann  nichts  dazu  tun.  Der 
handelnde  Held  des  Marston'schen  Werkes  ist  nicht  Fawn, 
sondern  die  Prinzessin  Dulcimel,  die  es  einerseits  versteht, 
den  Geliebten  durch  Worte  [unter  Vermittlung  ihres  ahnungs- 
losen  Vaters  (II,  489  ff ;  III,  33g  ff ;  IV,  612  ff.)]  und  Taten 
[s.  Briefe  (III,  372  ff.)  und  Hochzeitsvorbereitungen  (IV,  i, 
612  ff.  u.V,  Biihnenanweisung)]  fur  immer  fur  sich  zu  ge- 
winnen,  und  anderseits  den  selbstzufriedenen  Vater  so  zu 
iiberlisten,  dasserdas  nichtsahnende  Werkzeugzur  Erreichung 
ihrer  gluhenden  Wiinsche  wird. 

Wahrend  so  der  «  Par.  »  nach  Inhalt  und  Behandlungsweise 
kaum  uber  das  Satirisch-Farcenhafte  hinausgeht,  verrat  der 
Fl.  die  Absicht  seines  Schopfers,  ein  Drama  mit  ernsten  Kon- 
flikten  zu  schaffen  (vgl.  u.  pp.  26  ff.),  wenn  auch  mit  vielen 
humorvollen  und  satirischen  Intermezzi  und  nicht  immer  ori- 
ginellen  Mitteln.  Die  Gerichtsverhandlung  Don  Cupidos  im 
V.  Akte  des  «  Par.  »  koordiniert  die  Nebenhandlungen  des 
Stiickes  vollstandig  der  Haupthandlung,  sie  bildet  den  launi- 
gen,  gemeinsamen  Abschluss  vieler  heiterer  Einzelentwick- 
lungen.  Die  Gerichtsverhandlung  im  letzten  Akte  des  Fl. 
hingegen  ist  der  ernste  Wendepunkt  vieler  in  eine  Handlung 
verwobener  Menschenschicksale  ;  die  Losung  ist  gliicklich, 
aber  ernst  —  nicht  wie  im  «  Par.  »  iibersprudelnd  von  Scherz 
und  Laune. 

Kurz  zusammengefasst,  waren  wir  bis  jetzt  zu  folgendem 
Ergebnis  gelangt  : 

Dem  «  Par.  »  von  Marston  und  dem  Fl.  von  Sharpham  liegt 
unverkennbar  ein  in  vielen  wesentlichen  Punkten  iiberein- 
stimmender  Plan  zu  Grunde,  der  uns  aber  wegen  der  ver- 
schiedenen  Absichten  der  Dichter  in  so  modifizierter  Form 
entgegentritt,  dass  die  fertigen  Dramen  ausser  jenen  Gruncl- 
gedanken  kein  weiteres  wesentliches  tertium  comparationis 
bieten. 

Zunachst  ergibt  sich  nun  die  Frage,  worauf  wir  die  oben 


25)  Vgl.  die  Inhaltsdarstellung  des  «  Par.  »  von  Bullen  in  Marston's 
Works  II,  p.  107  f.,  ferner  Koeppel  «  Quellenst.  zu  .den  Dramen  Ben 
Jonson's,  Marston's  etc.  »,  p.  28,  wo  er  Hercules  als  «  an  und  fiir  sich  ganz- 
lich  iiberniissig  »  bezeichnet. 


—  i5  — 

verzeichneten,  zweifellos  bestehenden  Ubereinstimmungen  der 
beiden  Werke  zuruckzufuhren  haben.  Da  das  Marston'sche 
Drama  schon  1604,  also  mindestens  ein  Jahr  vor  dem  Fl. 
vollendet  wurde  (vgl.  u.  pp.  29  ff.),  bleiben  folgende  Moglich- 
keiten  einer  Beantwortung  unserer  Frage  : 

1.  Sharpham  schopfte,  ohne  das  Werk  Marstons  zu  kennen, 
mit  ihm  aus  einer  gemeinsamen  Quelle. 

2.  Die  Ubereinstimmungen  beruhen  auf  Zufall. 

3.  Sharpham  kannte  den  Marston'schen  «  Par.  »  und  be- 
nutzte  ihn  in  dem  oben  skizzierten  Grade. 

Die  Untersuchung  dieser  Moglichkeiten  ergibt  Folgendes  : 

Da  ich  eine  gemeinsame  Quelle  nicht  gefunden  habe,  und  da 
sie  auch  zur  Erklarung  der  vorliegenden  Ubereinstimmungen 
nicht  notwendig  erforderlich  ist,  liegt  kein  triftiger  Grund  vor, 
eine  solche  anzunehmen.  DieMoglichkeiteinesblossenZufalles 
ware  bei  der  Art  der  genannten  Ubereinstimmungen  durchaus 
denkbar.  Dagegen  sprichtaberentschiedeneinegrosse  Anzahl 
von  inhaltlichen  oder  gar  wortlichen  Ubereinstimmungen  ein- 
zelner  Stellen  der  beiden  Dramen,  die  einwandfrei  beweisen, 
dass  Sharpham  den  «  Par.  »  gekannt  und  ihm  bewusst  oder 
unbewusst  —  die  Entscheidung  hieriiber  behalten  wir  uns  vor- 
laufig  vor  —  einzelne  Gedanken  und  Worte  entnommen  hat. 
Als  beweiskraftige  Ubereinstimmungen  dieser  Art  fiihren  wir 
folgende  Stellen  an  : 

I.  Fl.  I,  1-25.  Antifront  nimmt  Abschied  von  seinem  Be- 
gleiter,  der  ihn  zuriickzuhalten  sucht  mit  den  Worten  :  «  heare 
my  loue  if  not  my  counsell  ».  Darauf  legt  Antifront  seine  Griinde 
fur  die  Abreise  klar.  Der  Begleiter  wiinscht  ihm  Erfolg  :  «  Vnto 
your  celsitude  I  wish,  till  their  effects  your  hopes  may  neuer  faile  » 
und  verlasst  ihn.  Antifront  entschliesst  sich  in  einem  Monolog 
zu  einer  Verkleidung  und  schliesst  mit  der  italienischen  Sen- 
tenz  :  cuor  forte  rompe  catiua  sorte. 

Dieser  Scene  entspricht  ganz  genau  «  Par. »  I,  Sc.  I  :  Ferrara 
nimmt  Abschied  vom  Begleiter,  dieser  bittet  um  Gehor  :  «  let 
my  blood  and  love  Challenge  the  freedom  of  one  question  ».  Ferrara 
begriindet  seine  Reise,  der  Begleiter  wiinscht  Erfolg  :  «  /  com 
mend  all  to  your  wisdom,  and  yours  to  the  Wisest  »  und  geht  fort. 
Monolog  Ferraras  iiber  seinen  Entschluss,  die  Herzogswiirde 
fur  eine  Zeitlang  unter  einer  Verkleidung  zu  verbergen  :  «  And 


—  16  — 

now,  thou  ceremonious  sovereignty...!  put  you  off  ».  Schlusssentenz 
des  Monologs  :  «  There's  nothing  free  bid  it  is  generous  ». 

Die  vollstandige  Ubereinstimmung  zweier  so  umfangreicher 
Stellen  nach  Inhalt  und  Form  (d.  h.  nach  der  Anordnung  des 
Inhaltes)  ist  ohne  Beeinflussung  von  seiten  der  alteren  Version 
undenkbar. 

2.  Fl.  I.  275-284.  Petoune  belegt  sich  selbst  mit  Schimpf- 
worten,  welche  die  ihn  aufziehenden  Anwesenden  durch  Hin- 
zufiigung  je  eines  weiteren  Schimpfwortes  steigern  : 

«  Spa.  A  was  the  arrantst  Woodcock  that  euer  I  saw. 

Pet.  Indeed  I  was  a  very  silly  fellow. 

Ruff.  Nay  you  were  an  arrant  asse. 

Pet.  Sure  I  was  afoole. 

Kni.  Nay,  you  were  a  most  monstrous  puppie. 

Pet.  Indeed  I  was  an  Idiot,  a  verie  Idiot. 

Piso.  By  this  light  thou  wert  a  most  egregious  coxcombe. 

Pet.  Indeed  I  was,  indeed  I  was  ». 

In  «  Par.  »  II,  469  ff.  und  III,  I,  285  ff.  finden  wir  ahnliche 
Scenen,  in  denen  die  Selbstbeschimpfung  allerdings  nicht  ganz 
so  unverblumt  erfolgt  wie  bei  Sharpham.  Wie  im  allgemeinen 
so  oft  zu  beobachten  ist,  war  auch  in  diesem  Falle  der  Nach- 
ahmer  derber  als  sein  Vorbild.  Vgl.  bei  Marston,  «  Par.  » 

(II,  469  ff.)  :  «  Zuc...  Does  she  think  she  has  married  an  ass  ? 

Here.  A  fool  ? 

Zucc.  A  coxcomb  ? 

Here.  A  ninny-hammer  ? 

Zuc.  A  woodcock  ? 

Here.  A  calf? 

sowie  (III,  i,  285  ff.)  :  «Gon.  What  overweening  fools  these  young 
men  be,  that  think  us  old  men  sots  ! 

Here.  Arrant  asses. 

Gon.  Doting  idiots...  silly  souls... 

Here.  Poor  weak  creatures...  ». 

Die  meisten  der  bei  Sharpham  vorkommenden  Krattaus- 
driicke  finden  sich  auch  in  den  entspr.  Stellen  des  «  Par  ». 

3.  Fl.  I,  392-413  :  Der  eines  Vergehens  uberfuhrte  Petoune 
muss  eine  Anzahl  von  scherzhaften  Schwiiren  ablegen,  in 
denen  er  verspricht,  bisherige  iible  Gewohnheiten  ablegen  zu 
wollen.  Seine  stereotype  Antwort  auf  die  Fragen  des  Verei- 


—  17  - 

digenden  lautet  «  Never  ».  Vgl.  «  Par.  »  V,  i,  327  ft  :  Die  scherz- 
haften  eidlichen  Versicherungen,  in  denen  Zoya  von  Zucconc 
verlangt,  gewisse  tadelnswerte  Gewohnheiten,  zu  welchen 
Zucconc  selbst  --  wie  Petoune  im  Fl.  —  das  Tabakrauchcn 
zahlt,  von  jetzt  ab  zu  unterlassen,  sowie  die  ewig  wieder- 
kehrende  Antwort  «  Never  »  des  schuldbewussten  Zuccone 
sind  zweifellos  das  Vorbild  fiir  die  betr.  Stelle  im  Fl.  gewesen. 

4.  Fl.  I,  431-491.  Fleire  kotnmt  zum  ersten  Mai  mit  den 
Hofleuten  in  Beriihrung.    Diese   fragen  ihn  nach   Herkunft, 
Beruf,  Namen  und  dergl.  und  versprechen  schliesslich,  ihm 
gerade  dort  eine  Anstellung  als  Diener  zu  verschaften,  wohin 
er  zu  kommen  wiinscht.  Man  stellt  ihm  u.  a.  folgende  Fragen  : 

«  Kni  :  What  nation  art  ? 

Flei  :  An  Italian  :... 

Sp.  W hats  thy  name  P 

Fie.  Fleire.  »  etc.  Als  Spark  den  Beruf  Fleires  hort,  ruft  er 
aus  :  «  A  Courtier!  come  Gentlemen,  I  like  this  fellowe...  ».  Vgl. 
die  ahnliche  Scene  in  «  Par.  »  I,  2,  210  ff :  Fawn  befindet  sich 
zum  ersten  Mai  unter  den  Hofleuten,  wird  iiber  Heimat,  Stand 
und  Namen  befragt,  antwortet  ebenso  lakonisch  wie  Fleire 
und  wird  schliesslich  an  der  gewiinschten  Stelle  als  Diener 
untergebracht.  Annahernd  wortlich  stimmen  folgende  Stellen 
mit  den  entsprechenden  im  Fl.  iiberein  : 

«  Herod.  ...of  whence  art  thou  ? 

Here.  (i.  e.  Fawn)  Of  Ferrara... 

Herod.  ...thy  name...  ? 

Here.  Faunus. 

Nym.  Faunus  ?  an  old  courtier  P...  » 

Auf  jeden  Fall  hat  Sharpham  die  Stelle  stark  nach  der 
scherzhaften  Seite  hin  abgeandert;  Fleire  tritt  als  ein  geistreich 
mit  Worten  spielender  Geselle  auf,  wahrend  im  «  Par.  » 
schnell  ein  ernstes  Gesprachsthema  —  die  Werbung  Tiberios 
im  Auftrage  des  Vaters  —  angeschnitten  wird. 

5.  Fl.  I,  481  f.  :  Sharpham  schreibt  hier  den  Italienern  eine 
besondere  Geschicklichkeit  im  Giftmorde  zu  :  «  Fl.  So  I  thought 
indeede,  you  cannot  poyson  so  well  as  we  Italians,  but  youle... 
bring  a  man  out  of  his  life  as  soone  ».  «  Par.  »  II,  i,  106  findet 
sich  derselbe  Gedanke,  wenn  auch  in  anderem  Zusammen- 
hange  :  «  Nym.  ...he  should  find  me  an  Italian.  Here.  How  an 

2 


—   18   - 

Italian  ?  Herod.  By  thy  aid  an  Italian  ;  dear  Faunns  ...thy  sweet 
hand  should  minister  that  nectar  to  him  should  make  him  immortal. 
Nymphadoro,  in  direct  phrase,  thou  shouldst  murder  the  prince... ». 
Diese  Ubereinstimmung  konnte  der  Zufall  veranlasst  haben, 
obgleich  dieses  im  Hinblick  auf  die  ubrigen  Ahnlichkeiten 
wenig  wahrscheinlich  ist. 

6.  Fl.  II,  111-116.  Fleire  spricht  :  «  Faith  wel  Madam,  were 
not  your  Citizens,  such  hcauie  head  fellowes  :  Fel,  Thats  a  signe 
they  are  no  drunkards.  Fie.  Indeede  Madam,  drinke  lightens  the 
head,  the  heart,  the  heeles,  the  pot,  the  purse ;  but  it  makes  heauie 
chamberpots...  ».  Vgl.  «  Par.  »  V,  i,  178  ff.  «  Her.  Drunkenness 
bringes  all  out,  for  it  brings  all  the  drink  out  of  the  pot,  all  the  wit 
out  of  the  pate,  and  all  the  money  out  of  the  purse  ».  Vgl.  auch  den 
ahnlichen  Scherz  in  Shakespeares  «  Cymbeline  »  (V,  4,  160  ff.)  : 
«  You...  depart  reeling  with  too  much  drink.  ...purse  and  brain 
both  empty,  the  brain  the  heavier  for  being  too  light,  the  purse  too 
light,  being  drawn  of  heaviness  : ...  ». 

7.  Fl.  II,  i5i-i56.  Fleire  tadelt  es,  dass  bei  den  Mahlzeiten 
der  Hofdienei  schaft  keine  Ordnung  herrsche,  jeder  nahme  sich 
von  den  Gerichten  was  ihm  gefiele :  «It  [i.  e.  the  meate}  comes  no 
sooner  from  Table,  but  tone  fellow  has  afatte  Ducke  by  the  rumpe, 
thother  a  slipperie  Ele  by  the  taile,  and  an  old  Courtier  that  best 
knew  the  tricks  on't,  was  mumbling  of  a  Cunnie  in  a  corner  alone 
by  himself  e  ».  «  Par.  »  II,  I  ff.  war  zweifellos  das  Vorbild  fur 
diese  Stelle.  Herod  hat  sich  in  der  von  Fleire  beschriebenen 
Art  Fleisch  gesichert  :  «  Come,  sir ;  a  stool  boy  !  these  court- 
feasts  are  to  us  servitors  courtfasts  —  such  scambling,  such  shift 
for  to  eat,  and  where  to  eat.  Here  a  squire  of  low  degree  hath  got 
the  carkass  of  a  plover,  there  pages  of  the  chamber  divide  the  spoils 
of  a  tatter' d  pheasant;  here  the  sewer  has  friended  a  country  gentle-, 
man  with  a  sweet  green  goose,  and  there  a  young  fellow  that  late 
lias  bought  his  office,  has  caught  a  woodcock  by  the  nose...  ». 

8.  Fl.    II,   260-264.   Auf  die   eben   vollzogene   Vereinigung 
Englands  und  Schottlands  zu  einem   Reiche  Britannien  an- 
spielend  fragt  Ruffel  den  Fleire  :  «  canst  tell  me  if  an  English 
man  were  in  debt,  whether  a  Brittaine  must  pay  it  or  no?  Flei,  No, 
questionlesse  no  ».   Ruffel  wiinscht,   das   Gesetz  mochte  nach 
derselben  Ansicht  verfahren  :  «  /  'me  glad  of  that,  I  hope  some 
honest  statute  will  come  shortlie,  and  wipe  out  all  my  scores  ».  Das 


-  ig  - 

Material  zu  dem  Scherze  im  Fl.  lieferte  hochstwahrscheinlich 
die  entsprechende  pro-domo-Logik  des  Narren  Dondolo  im 
«  Par.  »  (IV,  r,  240  ff.)  :  «  One  man  to-day  and  to-morrow  is  not 
the  same  man  ;  so  that  he  that  yesterday  owed  money,  to-day  owes 
none,  because  he  is  not  the  same  man  ».  Auch  Herod  gibt  dem 
Wunsche  Ausdruck,  das  Gesetz  moge  diese  Logik  zum  Prinzip 
erheben  :  «  Would  that  philosophy  would  hold  good  in  law  !  » 

Die  drastische  Beschreibung  der  Vorzlige  der  altlicheri 
Jungfer  Fromaga  durch  Fleire  (Fl.  Ill,  3i2  fl.)  :  «  You  may  not 
say  the  sweetnes  of  her  breath,  for  that  stinks...  she  has  a  very 
moiste  nose...  »  scheint  ebenlalls  von  Marston  geborgt  zu  sein  ; 
«  Par.  »  IV,  i,  540  ff.  beschreibt  namlich  Fawn  cine  Matrone 
in  ganz  ahnlicher  Weise  :  «  her...  lips  now  shrink  in,  and  give 
her  nose  and  her  chin  leave  to  kisse  each  other  very  moistly...  the 
very  breath  that  flies  out  of  it  \  i.  e.  the  mouth]  infects  the  fowls  oj  the 
air,  and  makes  them  drop  down  dead...  ».  In  beiden  Fallen  sucht 
der  verkleidete  Herzog  bei  komischen  Personen  (Petoune- 
Zuccone)  durch  seine  Schilderung  Stimmung  fur  eine  Heirat 
mil  den  also  beschriebenen  Schonheiten  zu  erregen. 

Ergebnis  :  Bei  der  Art  und  der  betrachtlichen  Anzahl  der 
erwahnten  Ubereinstimmungen  des  Fl.  mit  dem  «  Par.  »  (beson- 
ders  wegen  I  ;  2  ;  4  ;  6)  iniissen  wir  annehmen,  dass  Sharpham 
den  «  Par.  »  nicht  nur  gekannt,  sondern  dass  er  ihm  bewusst 
sehrwesentlichewie  auchunwesentliche  Gedanken  entnommen 
hat.  Einbewusstes  Vorgehen  Sharphams  zeigt  sich  ausserdem 
schon  in  dem  Umstande,  dass  er  seiner  Komodie  einen  Titel 
gab,  der  dem  des  Marston'schen  Werkes  dem  Sinne  nach 
(Parasitaster,  Fawn  —  und  Fleire  bedeuten  samtlich  soviel  wie 
'Schmeichler')  nahesteht.  — 

Rein  ausserlich,  aber  darum  um  so  leichter  nachweisbar  sind 
die  Entlehnungen  Sharphams  aus  John  Marstons  Drama  «  The 
Malcontent  »,  das  itoi  :m  Black-Friars  Theater  aufgefiihrt  und 
1604  gedruckt  wurde  (vgl.  Flea}-  «  B.  Chron.  »  II,  p.  78),  also 
zweifellos  alter  als  der  Fl.  ist.  Der  Held  dieses  Dramas  ist 
Altofronto,  der  Herzog  von  Genua,  der,  wie  der  Titelheld  im 
FL,  unrechtmassigei  weise  seines  Amtes  entsetzt  worden  ist, 
und  der  es  versteht,  in  der  Maske  eines  Hoflings  am  Hole  des 
Usurpatprs  sein  Recht  wiederzuerlangen  (vgl.  die  Inhaltsangabe 
des  <c  Malcont.  »  bei  Bullcn,  Marston's  Works  I,  p.  195).  Die 


-    20    — 

Situation,  in  der  sich  die  Helden  der  beiden  Werke  bei  Beginn 
der  Handlung  befinden,  ist  annahernd  die  gleiche,  im  Gegen- 
satz  zu  dem  Schicksal  des  Herzogs  Hercules  im  «  Par.  »,  der 
keinen  so  ernsten  Grund  fur  seine  Verkleidung  hat ;  ebenso  im 
grossen  und  ganzen  trotz  der  verschiedensinnigen  Adoptiv- 
namen  (Fleire  'Schmeichler'  Malevole  'der  Boshafte')  ihr 
Verhalten  unter  der  Maske  :  beide  wissen  sich  das  Vertrauen 
der  Umgebung  zu  verschaffen  und  es  zu  ihrem  Vorteil  aus- 
zunutzen.  Immerhin  ist  die  Verwandtschaft  der  Masken  Fleire 
—  Malevole  nicht  so  eng  wie  die  der  Masken  Fleire  —  Fawn. 
Zum  offenen  Verrater  der  Abhangigkeit  Sharphams  vom  «  Mal- 
cont.  »  wird  aber  der  eigentliche  Name  seines  Titelhelden  : 
aus  Marstons  «  Altofronto  »  macht  Sharpham  die  Verstiim- 
melung  «  Antifront  ».  Weitere  fiir  die  Quellenfrage  wichtige 
Ubereinstimmungen  zwischen  dem  «  Malcont.  »  und  dem  Fl. 
sind  nicht  festzustellen ;  vielmehr  weichen  beide  in  den  Einzel- 
heiten  ihrer  Handlungen  vollstandig  von  einander  ab.  — 

Eine  wichtige  Ubereinstimmung  der  Handlungen  ergibt  sich 
uns  hingegen  bei  einem  Vergleich  des  Sharpham'schen  Dramas 
mit  Marston's  Schauspiel  «  The  Dutch  Courtezan  ».  Im  Fl. 
haben  Spark  und  Ruffel 2G)  die  Liebeswerbungen  Floridas  und 
Felicias  ZG)  zuriickgewiesen.  Diese  schworen  ihnen  den  Tod 
und  benutzen  zur  Ausfiihrung  der  Rache  zwei  um  ihre  Liebe 
bettelnde  Hoflinge,  den  Lord  Piso  und  Sir  John  Havelittle  26). 
Mit  unerhorter  List  und  dem  gewissenlosen  Versprechen, 
ihnen  nach  Vollbringung  des  Mordes  ihre  Liebe  zu  schenken, 
iib'erreden  sie  Piso  und  Havelittle,  die  Tat  bei  einem  Bankette 
auszufuhren;  die  beabsichtigte  Wirkung  wird  nur  durch  Fleires 
Eingreifen  verhindert.  Nichtsdestoweniger  werden  Piso  und 
Havelittle  vor  Gericht  gestellt  und  zum  Tode  verurteilt,  dem 
sie  schliesslich  entgehen,  weil  das  Verbrechen  nicht  zur  Aus 
fiihrung  kam. 

Fast  dieselbe  Episode  finden  wir  in  «  Dutch  Court.  »  :  Free 
will  verlasst  seine  friihere  Geliebte  Franceschina,  um  die 
tugendhafte  Beatrice  zu  heiraten.  Franceschina  ist  von  Rache- 
gedanken  erfullt ;  ihr  Werkzeug  wird  der  leidenschaftlich  in 


26)  Uber  die  dem  Fl.  eigentiimliche  Verdoppelung  der  Charaktere  vgl, 
unten  p.  28. 


—  21   — 

sie  verliebte  Malheureux,  dem  sie  ihre  ganze  Liebe  verspricht, 
wenn  er  bereit  1st,  fur  sie  den  verhassten  Freewill  aus  der  Welt 
zu  schaffen  zl).  Mit  tiickischer  Schlauheit  weiss  sie  Malheureux 
das  Versprechen  abzuringen,  den  Mord  zu  begehen.  Spater 
kommt  Malheureux  zur  Vernunft,  unterlasst  die  Tat,  wird  aber 
doch  vor  Gericht  gestellt  und  zum  Tode  verurteilt ;  die  Fest- 
stellung  seiner  Schuldlosigkeit  rettet  ihn  im  letzten  Augen- 
blicke.  Ob  Sharpham  die  Episode  aus  Marstons  Drama  be- 
wusst  entlehnt  hat,  lasst  sich  mit  Sicherheit  nicht  entscheiden. 
Immerhin  sind  die  Ubereinstimmungen  trotz  mancher  Ab- 
weichungen  im  einzelnen  so  aufTallend,  dass  wir  zum  mindesten 
berechtigt  sind,  bei  Sharpham  Reminiszenzen  an  das  vielleicht 
auch  im  Theater  gesehene  Marston'sche  Werk  vorauszusetzen. 
Vgl.  auch  meine  Anm.  zu  Fl.  Ill,  65  ff.  — 

Shakespeare  und  Sharpham. 

Die  Abhangigkeit  Sharphams  von  Shakespeare  halt  sich 
durchaus  in  auch  nach  heutigen  Begriffen  erlaubten  Grenzen. 
Stofflich  finden  wir  nur  eine  deutliche  Anlehnung,  und  zwar 
in  der  Gerichtsscene  des  letzten  Aktes  (Z.  19  bis  53  ;  ferner 
Z.  180  bis  Aktschluss).  Piso  und  Havelittle  sollen  wegen 
Mordes  vor  Gericht  gestellt  werden ;  Fleire  kennt  den  wahren, 
die  Angeklagten  entlastenden  Sachverhalt  und  beschliesst, 
selbst  in  der  Verkleidung  des  Oberrichters  Ferrio,  der,  wie 
Fleire  erfahren  hat,  krank  ist,  die  Verhandlung  zu  leiten  und 
einen  ihn  gut  dunkenden  Urteilsspruch  zu  fallen.  Sein  Plan 
gelingt  vollstandig. 

Eine  ahnliche  Sachlage  zeigt  der  IV.  Akt  des  «  Merch.  of 
Ven.  »  (cf.  Ill,  4,  45  ff.  ;  IV,  I  ganz).  Die  von  Shylock  an- 
gestrengte  Gerichtsverhandlung  bedeutet  fiir  Antonio  den 
sicheren  Tod.  Da  findet  Portia  ein  Rettungsmittel  :.sie  will  in 
der  Verkleidung  eines  Rechtsgelehrten  anstelle  des  ihr  ver- 
wandten,  sich  krank  stellenden  Bellario  die  Verhandlung  fiihren 


-1)  Vgl.  Koeppel  «  Quellenstud.  zu  den  Dramen  Ben  Jons.'s,  John  Mar 
stons  und  Beaum.  u.  Fletchers  »,  p.  29.  Dasselbe  Motiv,die  von  der  Geliebten 
geforderte  Ermordung  eines  Freundes,  findet  sich  auch  in  Marstons  Tra- 
godie  «  The  Insatiate  Countess  »  (vgl.  Koeppel  ib.  p.  3o)  und  in  Massingers 
«  Parliament  of  Love  » (vgl.  Koeppel «  Quellenstud.  zu  den  Dramen  George 
Chapman's  »  etc.  p.  io5  f.). 


und  durch  einen  geistreichen  Urteilsspruch  dem  Juden  sein 
drohendcs  Messer  ins  eigene  Fleisch  stossen. 

Zur  Begriindung  unserer  Ansicht,  dass  Sharpham  an  dieser 
Stelle  bewusst  entlehnt  hat,  moge  folgende  Uberlegungdienen  : 
Bei  Sharpham  ist  das  Auftreten  Fleires  als  Richter  durchaus 
nicht  unbedingt  erforderlich.  Ware  Fleire  einfach  in  seiner 
Hoflingsmaskeals  Zeuge  aufgetreten,  sohatte,  bei  Beibehaltung 
aller  anderen  Momente  (i.  e.  der  unterstiitzenden  Zeugen- 
aussngen  Nans  und  Susans,  des  Auftretens  der  totgeglaubten 
Hoflinge),jeder  professionelle  Riehtcr  dieselben  Urteilsspriiche 
fallen  miissen  wie  Fleire  in  seiner  Verkleidung  :  es  ware,  wenn 
auch  mit  weniger  theatralischem  Effekt,  dasselbe  Ziel  erreicht 
worden.Wir  sind  deshalb  berechtigt,  anzunehmen,  dass  Sharp- 
ham  fiir  das  sich  organisch  nicht  ergebende  Verhalten  Fleires 
ein  Muster  vor  Augen  hatte  :  die  tatkraftige  Portia,  fiir  die  ja, 
wenn  sie  ihren  Zweck  erreichen  wollte,  die  Metamorphose 
zum  Richter  unbedingt  notwendig  war.  Diskutierenswerte 
wo'rtliche  Ubereinstimmungen  finden  wir  in  den  beiden  frag- 
lichen  Scencn  nicht.  Denn  wenn  die  beiden  uneigennutzigen 
Rechtspfuscher  bei  ihrem  Eintreten  in  den  Verhandlungsraum 
mit  annahernd  denselben  Worten  (Fl.  V,  199  f.  :...  « you  are 
verie  welcome,  and  so  I  pra'y  assume  his  place  » ;  —  «  Merch.  of 
Ven.  »  IV,  i,  170  :  «  You  are  welcome  :  take  your  place...  ») 
empfangen  warden,  so  ist  das  eine  ganz  oberflachliche  Uber- 
einstimmung,  die  sich  aus  der  Ahnlichkeit  der  Situationen 
ergeben  musste. 

Weitere  Beitrage  zur  Handlung  des  Fl.  hat  Shakespeare 
nicht  geliefert ;  wohl  aber  werden  wir  auch  bei  Sharpham  im 
dramatischen  Dialog  ofters  an  Shakespeare  erinncrt.  Von 
diesen  teilweise  wortlichen  Ubereinstimmungen  kleinerer 
Stellen  mochte  ich  folgende  anfiihren  : 

Fl.  I,  2o5  bis  207  incl.  :  «  and  yfaith  he  was  a  neate  lad  too, 
for  his  beard  was  newly  cut  bare  ;  marry  it  showed  something  like 
a  Medow  newly  mowed  :  stubble,  stubble  ».  Vgl.  :  iH4III, 
33  bis  35  incl.  :  «  Came  there  a  certain  lord,  neat,  and  trimly 
dress' d,  Fresh  as  a  bridegroom  ;  and  his  chin  new  reap'd  Show'd 
like  a  stubble-land  at  harvest-home...  ». 

Fl.  II,  340  bis  343  incl.  :  «  Fl.  A  talkt  so  much  of  his  soule  and 
the  Deuill.  Sp  :  Why  a  sou  Id  his  soule  to  the  Deuill  man,  for  the 


-   23  - 

veluet  that  lines  his  cloake.  Fl.  A  fid  when  will  he  giue  the  Diuell 
hisdew?»Vg\.  :  i  H4  I,  2,  126  bis  i33  incl.  :  «  Poins.  Jack!  how 
agrees  the  devil  and  thce  about  thy  soul,  that  thou  soldest  him  on 
Good-  Friday  last  for  a  cup  of  Madeira  and  a  cold  capon's  leg  ? 
Prince.  Sir  John  stands  to  his  word,  the  devil  shall  have  his 
bargain  ;  for  he  was  never  yet  a  breaker  of  proverbs  :  he  will  give 
the  devil  his  due...  ». 

FJ.  Ill,  337  ff.  :  «  Ruff,  What  Gallants  vse  to  come  to  your 
house?  Fl  :  All  sortes,  all  nations,  and  all  trades  :  there  is  first 
Maister  Gallant  your  Britaine,  Maister  Metheglins  your  Welch- 
man,  Mounsieur  Mustroome  the  Frenchman  :  Signior  Fumado  the 
Spaniard,  Maister  Oscabath  the  Irishman  :  and  Maister  Sham- 
rough  his  Lackey,  O  and  Maister  Slopdragon  the  Dutchman.  Then 
for  your  Trades-men,  there  comes  first  Maister  Saluberrimum  the 
Phisitian,  Maister  Smooth  the  Silkman,  Maister  Thimble  the 
Taylor,  Maister  Blade  the  Cutler,  and  Maister  Rowell  the  Spurrier  : 
but  Maister  Match  the  Gunner  of  Tower-hill  comes  often...  ». 

Bei  dieser  Aufzahlung  der  im  Hause  der  leichtlebigen 
Schwestern  verkehrenden  Manner  kann  unserm  Dichter  die 
entsprechende  Aufzahlung  der  Insassen  des  Gefangnisses  durch 
den  Clown  Pompey  in  Shakespeares  Meas.  for  Meas.  IV,  3, 1-21 
vorgeschwebt  haben.  Auch  dort  sind  wie  im  Fl.  die  Namen  der 
aufgezahlten  Manner  witzige  Aushangeschilder  fur  ihrGewerbe 
oder  ihre  Charaktereigenschaften  :  «  Then  is  there  here  ont 
Master  Caper,  at  the  suit  of  Master  Threepile  the  mercer,  for  some 
four  suits  of  peach-coloured  satin,  which  now  peaches  him  a  beggar. 
Then  have  we  here  young  Dizy,  and  young  Master  Deep-vow,  and 
Master  Copper-spur, and  M  aster  Starvt-lackey  the  rapier  and  dagger 
man,  and  young  Drop- heir  that  killed  lusty  Pudding,  and  Master 
Forthlight  the  tiller,  and  brave  Master  Shooty  the  great  traveller, 
and  wild  Half-can  that  stabbed  Pots,  and,  I  think,  forty  more.  » 

Fl.  IV,  174  bis  179  :  Nan  und  Susan  erzahlen,  wie  vollstandig 
sie  sich  in  Manner  verwandelt  haben  : 

«  Na.  I  can  tell  baudie  tales  drinke  drunke,  brag,  sweare,  and  lye 
with  any  Lackie  in  the  towne. 

Su  :  /  can...  slaunder  any  Gentlewoman  as  well  as  anie  Inncs  a 
Court  puny,  I  can  as  well  as  lie,  sweare  such  a  Lady  is  in  hue 
with  me...  ». 

Die  Stelle  in  Merchant  of  Ven.  (Ill,  4,  68  bis  74),  wo  Portia 


—  24  — 

der  Nerissa  ausmalt,  wie  sie  sich  in  den  Mannerkleidern  ver- 
halten  wollen,  ist  zweifellos  die  anmutige  Quelle  des  bei 
Sharpham  arg  vergroberten  Scherzes  :  «  Por.  I'll...  speak 
of  frays  \  Like  a  fine  bragging  youth,  and  tell  quaint  lies,  \  How 
honourable  ladies  sought  my  love,  \  Which  I  denying,  they  fell  sick 
and  died;  \  I  could  not  do  withal ;  then  I'll  repent,  \  And  wish,  for 
all  that,  that  I  had  not  kilVd  them  ;  \  And  twenty  of  these  puny  lies 
I'll  tell,  |  ...  ». 

An  Shakespeare  werden  wir  ausserdem  erinnert  : 
Fl.  II,  in  bis  116  (Cymb.  V,  4,  160  ff.) ;  vgl.  oben  p.  18. 
Fl.  II,  ^33  :  «  Faith  like  Thisbe  in  the  play  ».  Diese  Stelle  kann 
nur  auf  Shakespeares  «  Mids.  N.  Dr. .»  anspielen,  da  ein  an- 
deres,  denselben  Stoffbehandelncles  «  play  »  nicht  vorlag. 

Dekker  und  Sharpham. 

Fur  ein  Hauptmotiv  der  Handlung  des  Fl.  haben  uns  die 
vorstehenclen  Untersuchungen  kein  Vorbild  geliefert  :  fur  den 
Gedanken,  den  siltlich  verlorenen  Tochtern  den  Vater  als 
Beistand  und  Retter  an  die  Seite  zu  stellen.  Wahrscheinlich 
haben  wir  auch  dieses  Motiv  auf  einen  starkenTheatereindruck 
Sharphams  zuriickzufiihren.  Herr  Prof.  Koeppel  hat  mich  dar- 
auf  aufmerksam  gemacht,  dass  in  jenen  Jahren  der  schiitzende 
und  rettende  Vater  auch  in  einem  effektvollen  Werke  des  popu- 
laren  Dramatikers  Thomas  Dekker  auf  den  Londoner  Buhnen 
erschienen  war  :  in  dem  II.  Teil  des  Doppelspieles  «  The 
Honest  Whore  »  (in  S.  R.  eingetragen  am  29.  April  1608,  uber- 
liefert  aber  erst  in  einem  Drucke  des  Jahres  i63o)  steht  Orlando 
Friscobaldo  zu  seiner  von  Stufe  zu  Stufe  gesunkenen,  zum 
Guten  bekehrten  und  aufs  neue  moralisch  bedrohten  Tochter 
Bellafronte  in  einem  ganz  ahnlichen  Verhaltnis  wie  Antifront- 
Fleire  zu  seinen  Tochtern.  Wie  Antifront  tritt  auch  Orlando 
in  einer  Verkleidung  in  den  Dienst  seiner  Tochter  ;  wie  Anti- 
fronts  Bemuhen  geht  auch  Orlandos  Streben  dahin,  seine 
Tochter  vor  weiterer  Schande  zu  bewahren.  Auch  im  Charakter 
kann  der  witzelnde  Fieire  uns  als  eine  freilich  schwache  Kopie 
der  lebensvollen  Gestalt  Orlandos  erscheinen.  Wortliche  Uber- 
einstimmungen  lassen  sich  nicht  feststellen,  aber  die  allgemeine 
Ahnlichkeit  der  beiden  Vater  ist  auffallend. 


-  25  - 

Allerdings  besteht  auch  die  Moglichkeit,  dass  in  diesem 
Falle  Sharpham  nicht  der  Nachahmer  war,  sondern  dass  sein 
Fl.  das  Vorbild  Dekkers  fur  die  Gestalt  des  Orlando  gewesen 
ist  :  der  II.  Teil  der  «  Hon.  Wh.  »  wurde  erst  im  Jahre  1608, 
also  nach  dem  Veroffentlichungsjahr  des  Fl.  in  die  S.  R.  ein- 
getragen.  Aber  der  Druck  ertblgreicher  Stiicke  wurde  bekannt- 
lich  oft  lange  hinausgeschoben  ;  es  ist  durchaus  moglich  und 
wahrscheinlich,  dass  der  II.  Teil  des  Dekkerschen  Dramas 
schon  bald  nach  seinem  1604  gedruckten  ersten  Teil  auf  die 
Bretter  kam.  Fleay  (Biogr.  Chron.  I,  p.  i32)  setzt  die  Ent- 
stehung  des  II.  Teiles  in  das  Jahr  1604  mit  dem  Bemerken  : 
«  Soon  after  the  first  part...  there  are  allusions...  to  nothing 
of  later  date  than  1604  ».  Auch  die  Wahrscheinlichkeitsrechnung 
spricht  von  vornherein  dafiir,  dass  Sharpham,  dersoviele  seiner 
Motive  geborgthat,  auch  in  diesem  Falle  nach  einem  bekannten 
Muster  gearbeitet  hat.  — 

Ergebnis. 

Die  Entstehung  des  Fl.  diirfen  wir  uns  den  Resultaten  un- 
serer  Untersuchungen  gemass  etwa  folgendermassen  vor- 
stellen  : 

Sharpham  kannte  Marstons  «  Par.  »  und  «  Malcont.  ».  Die 
Gestalt  des  verkleideten  Herzogs  interessierte  ihn,  er  nahm 
sie  auf  und  machte  sie  —  vermutlich  mit  Benutzung  eines 
ahnlichen  Motives  in  Dekkers  «  Hon.  Wh.  »  II.  Teil  —  zur 
Hauptgestalt  seines  Dramas,  indem  er  die  Exposition (unrecht- 
massige  Absetzung  eines  Herzogs)  der  des  «  Malcont.  »  an- 
glich,  wahrend  er  die  Charakterzeichnung  seines  Helden  in 
der  Verkleidung  im  wesentlichen  dem  «  Par.  »  entnahm.  Die 
Entwicklung  der  Handlung  im  grossen  und  ganzen  ist  Sharp- 
hams  eigener  Erfindung  zuzuschreibcn ;  es  ist  aber  nicht 
ausgeschlossen,  dass  dem  Mordversuchs-Motiv  eine  Episode 
aus  Marstons  «  Dutch  Courtezan  »  und  der  Gerichtsscene 
eine  solche  aus  Shakespeares  «  Merchant  of  Venice  »  zur 
Quelle  diente.  Fur  einzelne  kleinere  Stellen  des  Fl.  lassen  sich 
in  Marstons  und  Shakespeares  Werken  deutlich  Vorbilder 
konstatieren.  Siimtliche  Entlehnungen  sind  so  geschickt  ver- 
wandt  worden,  dass  sie  die  an  sich  ausserst  einfach  verlaufende 
Handlung  weder  storen  noch  iiberlasten.  — 


—  26  — 
B.   ASTHETISCHER  WERT  DES   «    FLEIRE   ». 

Zwei  Tochter  verlassen  heimlich  das  Vaterhaus.  Es  ward 
ihnen  zu  eng  in  seinen  ehrbaren  Wanden  —  sie  wollen  hinaus, 
ins  Leben,  wollen  frei  sein  von  den  kleinlichen  Sorgen  urn's 
tagliche  Brot,  frei  von  der  Maske,  die  sie  bisher  hatten  tragen 
mussen,  um  das  Sehnen  ihrer  unbefriedigten  Sinne  zu  ver- 
bergen.  Am  Hofe  des  englischen  Konigs  hat  man  ein  scharfes 
Auge  fur  weibliche  Schonheit,  eine  nimmer  leere  Borse  fur 
schrankenlose  Hingebung  —  dort  bluht  das  Geschaft  der 
Schwestern.  —  Da  kommt,  von  den  Kindern  nicht  erkannt, 
der  verlassene  Vater  an  jenen  Hof.  Ohnmachtig  muss  er  die 
Erniedrigung  seines  eignen  Blutes  ansehen  :  was  sollten  dort 
Worte  erreichen,  wo  Scham  und  Stolz  zu  Grabe  getragen 
wurden  !  —  Schon  furchtet  er,  es  sei  zu  spat,  da  sieht  er  noch 
einen  Ausweg,  den  einzigen,  auf  dem  sich  ein  in  Begierde 
brennendes  Menschenkind  noch  zu  retten  vermag  :  die  Ehe. 
Zwei  ehrenhafte  Ritter  zeigen  Zuneigung  zu  den  Schwestern  : 
der  Vater  bietet  seine  ganze  Klugheit  auf,  den  glimmenden 
Funken  zu  entfachen  —  bis  ihm  ein  zufallig  gehortes  Gesprach 
der  Madchen  klar  macht,  dass  jeder  Rettungsversuch  umsonst 
ist  :  seine  Kinder  haben  den  letzten  Schritt  getan,  sie  sind  zu 
Morderinnen  geworden.  Gerade  jene  beiden  Manner,  die  des 
Vaters  sorgender  Sinn  ihnen  zu  Ehemannern  hatte  geben 
wollen,  sollen  den  verbrecherischen  Planen  der  Dirnen  zum 
Werkzeug  werden  :  sie  sollen  zwei  nichtsahnende  Hoflinge 
meuchlings  ermorden.  Nun  sieht  der  bedauernswerte  Mann 
nur  noch  eine  Pflicht :  er  muss  die  bedrohten  Opfer  warnen. 

In  uiesem  entscheidenden  Augenblick,  in  dem  die  Tochter 
den  Gipfel  der  Verworfenheit  erreicht  haben,  erkennt  der 
suchende  Geist  des  Vaters  doch  noch  eine  letzte  Moglichkeit 
der  Rettung:  sollten  die  Tochter  nicht  zurReuegefiihrt  werden, 
wenn  sie  selbst  einmal  dem  Tod  ins  finstere  Angesicht  zu 
blicken  hatten  ?  —  Des  Vaters  schnell  gefasster  Plan  gelingt  : 
er  verhindert  den  beabsichtigten  Giftmord,  lasst  aber  die 
Tochter  wie  ihre  Helfershelfer  bei  der  Meinung,  er  sei  gelungen. 
Das  Genicht  des  vermeintlichen  Mordes  dringt  zum  Richter, 
der  Gerichtshof  spricht  iiber  alle  vier  Schuldigen  das  Todes- 
urteil  aus.  Jetzt  —  oder  nimmer  —  muss  der  Wandel  in  den 


-  27  - 

Seelen  der  Siinderinnen  vor  sich  gehen.  Und  er  bleibt  auch 
nicht  aus  :  die  Schwestern  brechen  unter  der  Last  der  Schuld 
zusammen  —  ehrliche  Reue  spricht  aus  ihrem  Wunsche,  vor 
dem  Henkerstode  den  beiden  Rittern,  die  sie,  indem  sie  ihre 
Zuneigungmissbrauchten,mit  sich  ins  Ungliick  gcrissen  haben, 
die  Hand  zum  Ehebunde  zu  reichen.  Die  Ritter  willigen  ein. 
In  diesem  Augenblicke  o'ffhen  sich  die  Tore  der  Gerichtshalle  : 
den  beiden  Totgeglaubten  zum  Eintritt  —  dem  gepriiften  Vater 
mit  seinen  umgewandelten  Tochtern  und  deren  Angelobten 
zum  gliicklichen  Ausgang  in  ein  neues  Leben.  — 

Das  ist  die  durchkeine  storende  Nebenhandlung  verdunkelte 
Hauptaktion  des  «  Fleire  ».  Kein  Zweifel,  sie  ist  in  ihrer 
Einfachheit,  in  ihrer  —  als  Ganzes  genommen  —  unbestreit- 
baren  Originalitat,  in  ihrer  Verherrlichung  sorgenderVaterliebe 
wohl  der  liebevoll  fiihrenden  Hand  eines  Kiinstlers  wert !  War 
Eduard  Sharpham  eine  solche  Hand  gegeben?  Auf  diese  Frage 
ko'nnen  wir  leider  nur  mit  einem  entschiedenen  «  nein  »  ant- 
worten.  Die  Klippen,  die  auch  manchem  andern,  der  sich 
dasselbe  Ziel  gesetzt  hatte,  zum  Verderben  geworden  waren, 
hat  Sharpham  nicht  zu  vermeiden  verstanden  ;  zu  oft  hat  er 
den  Ernst  der  Situationen  durch  oberflachliche,  wenn  auch 
keineswegsimmer  geistlose  Dialogscherze,  die  auf  die  Lachlust 
des  Publikums  berechnet  waren,  griindlich  verdorben.  Hinzu 
kommt,  dass  Sharpham  darauf  bedacht  sein  musste,  ein  abend- 
fiillendes  Werk  zu  schaffen.  Bei  der  relativen  Einfachheit  des 
Materials  gab  es  zwei  Moglichkeiten :  das  Einflechten  entweder 
von  Nebenhandlungen  odervon  humoristischen,  ebenfalls  nicht 
zur  Handlung  gehorigen  Gesprachen.  Das  fraglos  in  des  Dichters 
Adein  fliessende  Satirikerblut  Hess  ihn  das  letztere  Mittel 
wahlen.  Gerade  dieses  satirische,  kulturhistorisch  interessante 
Element  der  nicht  zur  Handlung  gehorigen  Scenen  macht  es 
uns  leichter,  uns  mit  jenem  Fundamentalfehler  der  Komodie  — 
der  hier  und  dort  allzu  frivolen  Behandlung  eines  ernsten 
Stoffes  —  abzufinden.  Zu  Gunsten  des  Verfassers  konnen  wir 
ausserdem  sagen,  dass  er  vom  Beginn  des  IV.  Aktes  an  —  von 
einigen  Riickfallen  abgesehen  —  sich  auf  sein  eigentliches 
Thema  besinnt,  und  dass  der  Grundton  in  den  beiden  letzten 
Akten  ernst,  zeitweilig  echt  dramatisch  ist.  —  Ein  anderes  von 
Sharpham  mit  origineller  Konsequenz  durchgefiihrtes,technisch 


—  28  — 

recht  interessantes  Mittel,  eine  allzugrosse  Einfachheit  der 
Buhnenbilder  im  Fl.  und  eine  ungewohnliche  Kiirze  des  Dra 
mas  zu  vermeiden,  1st  die  Verdoppelung  der  handelnden  Per- 
sonen  :  zwei  Schwestern,  zwei  Ritter,  zwei  Hoflinge,  zwei 
verliebte  junge  Madchen  (Sus  und  Nan)  erleben  ganz  genau  — 
bis  in  das  geringfiigigste  Detail  —  zu  gleichen  Zeiten  die 
gleichen  Schicksale.  Es  ist  diese  Duplizitat  der  Personen 
tatsachlich  so  durchaus  kiinstlich,  dass  die  Handlung  ohne 
die  geringste  Abweichung  verlaufen  wiirde,  wenn  wir  noch 
nachtraglich  aus  jeder  der  vier  handelnden  Gruppen  eine 
Person  mit  ihrem  gesamten  Rollenmaterial  streichen  wurden. 
Dass  iibrigens  der  Verfasser  trotz  der  grossen  Mangel  seines 
Werkes  ein  ausgepragtes  Verstandnis  fur  die  Erreichung 
theatralischer  Wirkungen  hatte,  zeigen  ausser  der  oben  bespro- 
chenen  Verdoppelung  der  Charaktere  zahlreiche  einzelne 
Scenen  2S).  Wie  die  Massregelung  des  leidenschaftlichen 
Rauchers  Petoune  im  ersten  Akte  noch  heute  imstande  ware, 
ein  gutgelauntes  Theaterpublikum  frohlich  zu  unterhalten,  so 
zeugen  die  Scenen  zwischen  Antifront  und  den  beiden  Rittern 
im  II.  und  III.  Akt  von  nicht  geringer  dramatischer  Kraft  : 
zuerst  der  verzweifelte  Versuch  des  Vaters,  seinen  Tochtern 
ernste  Werber  zu  gewinnen  (II,  409-462),  und  dann,  nachdem 
er  ihre  Verworfenheit  erkannt  hat,  sein  ehrliches  Bemuhen, 
die  auf  seine  Veranlassung  hin  dem  Unheile  entgegengehenden 
Manner  vor  ihnen  zu  schiitzen  (III,  90-176).  Die  Wirkung 
dieser  Scenen  erhoht  Sharpham  noch  durch  ein  Kunstmittel  : 
die  letztere  Scene  bringt  einen  Teil  der  ersten  fast  wortlich 
wieder,  aber  so,  dass  die  in  der  einen  Scene  von  Havelittle 
gesprochenen,  die  Schwestern  anklagenden  Worte  in  der 
nachsten  dem  Vater  —  man  beachte  vor  allem  auch  die  feine 
ironische  Farbung  dieser  Stellen  —  in  den  Mund  gelegt  wer- 
den,  wahrend  der  jetzt  ausserst  verliebte  Ritter  ihm  mit  dessen 
eigenen,  in  der  ersten  Scene  gesprochenen  verteidigenden 
Worten  entgegentritt  (II,  416-426,  III,  91-98).  Recht  wirksam 
sind  dann  auch  die  Scenen,  in  denen  die  Schwestern  versuchen, 


28)  Man  beachte  aber  auch  die  recht  naiv  dargestellte  Scene,  in  der  der 
Apotheker  Alunio  einem  wildfremden  Menschen  sein  ganzes  Hab  und  Gut 
anvertraut  (Fl.  IV,  2i3  ff.). 


—  29  - 

ihre  Anbeter  zum  Morde  zu  verleiten  (IV,  65-143)  sowie  vor 
alien  Dingen  die,  in  denen  der  Vater  in  verschiedenen  Ver- 
kleidungen  in  das  Spiel  der  Handlung  eingreift  (Apotheker :  IV, 
215-287;  Richter:  V,  192-296).  Gerade  dieses  letztere,  naive  und 
iiusserst  billige  Mittel,  durch  mehrfache  Verkleidungen  des 
Helden  dramatische  Verwickelungen  und  unerwartete  Losun- 
gen  zu  erreichen,  hat  ja  noch  heute  seine  Zugkraft  auf  das 
grosse  Theaterpublikum  nicht  verloren  (vgl.  z.  B.  die  in  Nord- 
deutschland  recht  haufig  auigetuhrte  Komodie  «  TartiifT  der 
Patriot  »  von  Otto  Ernst,  einem  Dichter,  der  Anspruch  auf 
ernste  Beachtung  seiner  Werke  macht).  — 

Zusammenlassend  konnen  wir  sagen,  dass  der  Autor  jeden- 
falls,  als  er  an  die  Abfassung  seines  «  Fleire  »  ging,  die  Absicht 
hatte,  ein  inhaltlich  ernstes  Schauspiel  zu  schaffen  —  sonst 
hiitte  er  einen  anderen  Stoff  gewahlt.  Allmahlich  aber  mag  er 
diese  Absicht  aufgegeben  haben  bei  der  Erkenntnis,  dass  es 
ihm  an  der  Fahigkeit  mangele,  dem  StofI  und  den  Charakteren 
diejenige  Sorgfalt  angedeihen  zu  lassen,  die  ihnen  in  einem 
ernstgemeinten  iunfaktigen  Drama  gebiihrt.  Aus  dem  drama- 
tischen  Neuling  Sharpham  wurde  ein  schon  als  Anfanger  recht 
reifer  Witzler  und  Satiriker,  in  dessen  Bemerkungen  das 
juristische  Element,  der  Einfluss  des  Middle  Temple,  oft  zur 
Geltung  kommt.  — 

C.  ABFASSUNGSZEIT  DES  «  FLEIRE  ». 

Fl.  kann  nach  der  ersten  Eintragung  in  S.  R.  nicht  nach 
dem  i3.  Mai  1606  vollendet  worden  sein.  Die  obere  Grenze 
fur  die  Entstehung  des  Dramas  liefert  uns  die  Tatsache,  dass 
Sharpham  zweifellos  Marstons  «  Par.  »  und  wahrscheinlich 
auch  seine  beiden  andern  Dramen  «  The  Malcontent  »  und 
«  The  Dutch  Courtezan  »  benutzt  hat.  Die  Ubereinstimmungen 
mit  dem  «  Par. »  sind  so  intimer  Art,  dass  wir  auf  den  Gedanken 
kommen  miissen,  Sharpham  habe  einen  Druck  dieses  Stiickes 
vor  sich  liegen  gehabt.  Marstons  Stiick  wurde  aber  erst  am 
12.  Marz  1606  in  die  S.  R.  eingetragen,  sodass  sich,  da  der 
Druck  einige  Wochen  beansprucht  haben  wird,  eine  sehr  kurze 
Frist  fur  die  Entstehung  des  Fl.  ergeben  wiirde.  Immerhin  hat 
die  Annahme,  dass  der  Fl.  kurze  Zeit  vor  seiner  Registrierung 
geschrieben  wurde,  viel  fur  sich,  denn  auch  wenn  wir  voraus- 


—  3o  — 

setzen,  dass  Sharpham  das  Marstonsche  Stuck  auf  der  Buhne 
kennen  lernte  und  schon  durch  den  starken  Biihneneindruck 
zu  seiner  Nachahmung  angeregt  wurde,  erhalten  wir  einen 
nur  wenig  grosseren  Spielraum.  Freilich  miissen  wir  bei  der 
Bestimmung  der  ersten  Aufruhrung  des  Marstonschen  Stiickes 
mit  seiner  Anspielung  aut  ein  zeitgenossisches  Vorkommnis 
operieren,  das  verschieden  datiert  worden  ist.  Es  handelt  sich 
dabei  um  eine  Stelle  des  «  Par.  >•>,  in  der  sich  Marston  gegen 
die  ihm  anstossige  Gegenwart  von  Frauen  bei  Hinrichtungen 
wendet;  er  lasst  seinen  eifersiichtigen  Narren  Zuccone  sagen  : 
«  /  will  rather  marry  a  woman  that  with  thirst  drinks  the  blood 
of  man  !  nay,  heed  me,  a  woman  that  will  thrust  in  crowds,  —  a 
lady,  that,  being  with  child,  ventures  the  hope  of  her  womb,  —  nay, 
gives  two  crowns  for  a  room  to  behold  a  goodly  man  three  parts 
alive  quartered,  his  privities  hackled  off,  his  belly  lanch'd  up !  » 
(«  Par.  »  IV,  i,  3oS  bis  314).  Fleay  (Biogr.  Chron.  II,  p.  80) 
bezieht  diese  Anspielung  auf  die  im  November  1604  (richtig  : 
i6o3)  erfolgte  Hinrichtung  zweier  obscurer  Verbrecher  in 
Winchester,  Bullen  in  seiner  Anmerkung  zu  dieser  Stelle  und 
ihm  folgend  Stoll  in  seinem  Buche  iiber  John  Webster  (Boston 
igo5)  p.  17  mit  viel  grosserer  Wahrscheinlichkeit  auf  die  in 
London  am  3o.  Januar  1606  erfolgte,  das  grosste  Aufsehen 
erregende  Hinrichtung  der  Teilnehmer  an  der  Pulverver- 
schworung.  TrifTt  diese  Annahme  das  Richtige,  so  kann  Mar- 
stons  Stuck  erst  nach  dem  Januar  1606  auf  die  Biihne  gekommen 
sein,  also  ganz  kurz  vor  der  Anmeldung  zum  Druck. 

Die  Entstehung  des  Fl.  wiirde  somit  in  die  Monate  Februar 
bis  Mai  1606  zu  setzen  sein.  In  der  Zeit  zwischen  der  Losung 
der  Drucklizenz  und  der  Publikation  im  folgenden  Jahre  1607 
fanden  die  verschiedenen  Auffuhrungen  des  Sharphamschen 
Stiickes  statt,  die  der  Vermerk  auf  dem  Titelblatt  ('As  it  hath 
beene  often  played  in  the  Blacke-Fryers  by  the  Children  of  the 
Reuells')  erwahnt,  und  auf  die  auch  folgende  Stelle  in  der 
Vorrede  «  an  den  Leser  und  Horer  »  hinweist :  «  /  know  it  [i.  e. 
the  book]  comes  not  like...  newes  of  great  Armies,  very  strange  and 
vndreampt  of,  but  like  forfeits  to  a  V  surer  long  looktfor  ». 

Diese  zeitliche  Fixierung  der  Komposition  des  Fl.  stimmt 
auch  zu  einigen  in  dem  Dialog  des  Dramas  cnthaltenen  An- 
spielungen  auf  zeitgenossische  Verhaltnisse,  von  denen  uns  die 
folgenden  beachtenswert  erscheinen  : 


—  3i   — 

Fl.  II,  258  ff .  :  «  /  did  pray  ofteticr  when  I  was  an  Englishman, 
but  I  haue  not  pr  aid  of  ten,  I  must  confesse  since  I  was  a  Brittaine  :... 
canst  tell  me  if  an  Englishman  were  in  debt,  whether  a  Rrittaine 
must  pay  it  or  no?  »  Der  Scherz  Ruffels  muss  zur  Voraussetzang 
haben  :  mindestens  die  durch  Elisabeths  Tod  (24.  Marz  i6o3) 
herbeigefiihrte  Personalunion  Englands  und  Schottlands,  fer- 
nerhin  aber  auch  die  Existenz  des  terminus  'Brittaine'  im 
modernen  Sinne.  In  einer  der  Offend  ichkeit  zuganglichen 
Form,  namlich  im  Parlamente,  wird  dieser  Ausdruck  zum 
ersten  Male  am  3o.  April  1604  gebraucht ;  der  Konig  hatte  am 
14.  April  durch  den  Lordchancellor  und  am  21.  April  in  einer 
Denkschrift  die  Einfuhrung  des  fur  beide  Lander  gemeinsamen 
Namens  'Great  Britain'  vorgeschlagen  —  am  3o.  April  wird 
im  Parlament  dariiber  verhandelt  29).  Dass  die  Bezeichnung 
«  Britain  »  trotz  oder  gerade  wegen  des  siegreichen  Wider- 
standes  des  Parlaments  30)  gegen  Jakobs  Vorschlag  fur  einige 
Zeit  eine  gewisse  volkstumliche,  satirische  Aktualitat  behielt, 
ist  anzunehmen.  Dem  entspricht  die  Anwendungsweise  im  Fl. 

Fl.  II,  364  ff.  :  «  I  have  heard  say,  they  [i.  e.  the  English  Ladies  \ 
will  rise  sooner,  and  goe  with  more  deuotion  to  see  an  extraordinarie 
execution,  then  to  heare  a  Sermon  »  ist  wahrscheinlich  auch  eine 
Anspielung  auf  den  Zudrang  der  Frauen  bei  der  Hinrichtung 
der  Mitglieder  der  Pulververschworung  am  3o.  Januar  1606, 
moglicherweise  veranlasst  durch  die  oben  (p.  3o)  erwahnte 
Bemerkung  in  Marstons  «  Par.  ».  — 

Fl.  II,  397  ff.  :  «  Yea  ?  and  will  you  to  the  South  ward  y faith  ? 
will  you  to  the  confines  of  Italie  my  Gallants  ?  take  heede  how  ye 
goe  Northwardes,  tis  a  daungerous  Coast,  iest  not  with't  in  Winter, 
therefore  goe  Southwardes  my  Gallants,  South-wards  hoe  :  »  etc. 
Vielleicht,  vvie  Fleay  anzunehmen  scheint  (Biogr.  Chron.  II, 
p.  271),  eine  Anspielung  auf  die  von  Webster  und  Dekker 
verfasste  biirgerliche  Komodie  «  Northward  Ho  !  »,  deren 
Entstehung  vermutlich  auch  in  das  Jahr  1606  zu  setzen  ist 
(vgl.  Stoll,  p.  16).  Es  ist  aber  unsicher,  ob  diese  Komodie  vor 
der  Entstehung  des  Fl.  auf  die  Buhne  gebracht  wurde.  — 


*9)  Vgl.  die  betr.   Parliaments-Berichte  (British  Museum,  Newspaper 
Room). 
30)  Die  Vereinigung  wurde  erst  unter  Anna  am  6.  Marz  ijoydnrchgefuhrt. 


—  32  — 

D.  UNSERE  NEUAUSGABE  DES  «  FLEIRE  ». 

Sie  1st  ein  durchaus  unveranderter  Abdruck  der  altesten 
Quarto  (A)  von  1607  mit  der  sie  sich  auch  in  der  Seiten-  und 
Zeilenanordnung  deckt.  Zeilenzahlung  und  numerische  Pagi- 
nierung  zeigt  keine  der  vorhandenen  Quartos  ;  in  der  Neuaus- 
gabe  wurden  sie  von  mir  eingefiihrt.  Druckfehler  von  A  sind 
nicht  beseitigt  worden,  haben  aber  in  den  Anmerkungen 
Berichtigung  gefunden.  Ein  besonderer  Grund,  irgend  einer 
der  drei  spateren  Drucke  den  Vorzug  zu  geben,  lag  nicht  vor, 
da  diese,  von  orthographischen  Abweichungen  abgesehen. 
nahezu  wortliche  Abdrucke  der  Quarto  von  1607  sind.  - 

3.  Cupids  Whirligig  31). 

Die  den  Titel  dieser  Komodie  rechtfertigende  Handlung  ist 
etwa  folgende  : 

Cupid  wird  von  seiner  Mutter  beauftragt,  seine  Pfeile  einmal 
bei  Seite  zu  legen  und  sich  statt  mit  ihnen  die  Zeit  mit  einem 
Spielradchen  zu  vertreiben  : 

»  My  Mother  kis'd  me  at  our  parting, 
But  did  charge  me  leaue  my  darting, 
And  with  a  strict  commaund  did  say, 
Boy,  on  a  Whirligig  goe  play. 
But  such  a  round  ile  make  him  runne, 
As  he  shall  end,  where  first  begunne. 
My  scourg-stickes  shall  be  made  of  Darts, 
Fethered  with  sighes  of  Louers  hearts. 
Which  made  them  flie  with  swiftest  flight, 
As  lightning  in  tempestious  night. 
My  scourge  it  selfe,  are  golden  tresses, 
More  ritcher  far  then  chaines  of  Esses  32). 
With  which  ile  make  some  daunce  a  ligge, 
More  rounder  yet  then  ere  did  Jig  ». 

(Prolog  Cupidos). 


31)  CVPIDS  |  Whirligig.  |  As  it  hath  bene  sundry  times  Acted  |  by  the 
Children  of  the  Kings  Majesties  |  Reuels.  I  London.  |  Imprinted  by  K.  Allde, 
and  are  to  bee  solde  by  Arthur  |  Johnson,  at  the  signe  of  the  white  Horse, 
nere  [  the  great  North  doore  of  Saint  |  Panics  Church.  |  1607.  | 

32)  Cf.  OD.  s.  v.  collar,  sb.  3  c. 


—  33  - 

Seine  Opfer  sucht  Cupid  im  Hausc  des  guten  Sir  Timothy 
Troublesome,  den  er  so  eifersiichtig  werden  lasst,  dass  er  sich 
schliesslich  von  seinem  treuen  Weibe  scheiden  lasst  und  der 
Jungfer  Peg  den  Hof  macht.  Diese  aber  verabscheut  ihn  und 
liebt  den  unordentlichen,  zum  Spotte  reizenden  Welshman 
Nuecome,  der  seinerseits  glaubt,  kraft  eines  neuen  Anzuges 
und  eines  sauberen  Kragens  auf  die  Liebe  der  ehrbaren  Jung- 
frau  Nan  Anspruch  zu  haben  ;  doch  Nan  hat  ihre  Liebe  schon 
vergeben  :  der  junge  Lord  Nonsuch  ist  es,  den  sie  anbetet ! 
Wie  wiirde  ihr  kleines  Madchenherz  zittern,  wiirde  sie  wissen, 
dass  der  leidenschaftliche  Lord  sie  verachtet,  ja,  dass  er  in 
drei  verschiedenen  Verkleidungen  vergebens  seine  ganze  Uber- 
redungskunst  aufwendet,  um  bei  der  von  ihrem  Gatten  schwer 
gekriinkten  Gemahlin  des  eifersiichtigen  Troublesome  Erwi- 
derung  seiner  gliihenden  Zuneigung  zu  erwecken. 

So  lasst  Cupid  die  Liebenden  wie  die  Speichen  eines  Wagen- 
rades  in  ewig  geschlossenem  Zirkel  einander  nachjagen,  ohne 
sich  je  zu  erreichen.  Endlich  ist  der  Schalk  seines  lustigen 
Spieles  miide  :  er  halt  den  Lauf  des  Liebesrades  an,  nimmt 
einige  kleine  Veranderungen  vor,  sodass  schliesslich  die  drei 
Frauen,  wenn  auch  unter  Anwendung  echt  weiblicher  List, 
mit  den  Mannern  vereint  werden,  denen  sie  von  Anfang  an 
zugetan  waren.  — 

Der  vorstehend  wiedergegebene,  das  launenhafte  Wesen 
Cupidos  beleuchtende  Hauptgedanke  des  Werkes  verschwindet 
nun  nach  Ausdehnung  und  Sorgfaltigkeit  der  Ausfuhrung  von 
seiten  des  Dichters  last  vollstandig  hinter  dem  breit  dar- 
gestellten,  fiinf  Akte  beherrschenden  Intrigenspiel  zwischen 
der  treuliebenden  Lady  Troublesome,  ihrem  eifersiichtigen 
Gatten  und  ihrem  ertblglosen  Anbeter  Nonsuch.  Der  Dichter 
scheint  bei  dem  Interesse,  das  ihm  diese  Episode  bot,  den 
urspriinglichen  Plan  seines  Dramas  ganz  vergessen  zu  haben. 
Nur  ganz  leise,  kaum  bemerkbar  horen  wir  in  den  ersten  vier 
Autziigen  das  Radchen  Cupidos  summen,  bis  es  endlich  im 
letzten  Akte  in  voller  Bewegung  auf  die  Bretter  schwirrt  :  ein 
lustiger  Marionettentanz  zeigt  sich  unsern  Augen  —  und  Cupid, 
der  Tanzmeister,  lugt  liichelnd  aus  den  Falten  eines  Vorhanges 
hervor.  Eine  Scene  soil  uns  das  heitere  Spiel  vor  Augen 
fiihren :  3 


-34- 

Lady  Troubles.  O  my  still  belooued  Husband,  like  filth  or  durt,  do  not  flea 
me  like  a  S«-rpant,  which  comes  to  sting  thy  bosome  ;  I  come  to  kisse  thee, 
sweet,  let  not  suspect  diuorce  me  from  thy  presence,  though  from  thy  bed  ; 
for  if  you  will  trust  this  masked  face,  I  knowe,  No  fountaine  purer  then  my 
loue  would  showe. 

Knight.  I  flie  and  hate  thee  like  a  Serpents  kissing,  which  comes  to  sting 
me  with  pretence  of  kissing  S3).  Exit  Knight. 

Lady  Troubles.  O  fainty  teares,  and  feeble  handes,  for  euer  may  you  close, 
and  neuer  part  till  sharpest  griefe  haue  cut  trie  heartstrings  of  my  life.  Or 
else  let  this  same  braine  of  mine  dissolue  to  teares,  and  drop  itselfe  euen 
drop  by  drop,  vntill  it  make  a  Sea  of  woes,  that  therein  I  may  drowne  my 
wretched  life  ! 

Enter  Slacke  [i.  e.  Lord  Nonsuch,  als  Diener  verkleidetj. 

Sla.  Alas  poore  Lady,  I  pittie  your  calamitie,  £  grieue  to  see  you  brused 
by  my  maisters  iniurie,  which  makes  your  eyes  like  spunges  drop  these 
brinish  teare?,  and  spoiles  a  face,  such  as  was  neuer  better  one  [sic]  framcle 
by  the  skilfull  hand  of  nature. 

Lady  Troubles.  Auoide  thou  slaue,  how  durst  thou  woe  me  ?  I  am  like  a 
starre  to  thee,  my  Orb's  aboue  thee. 

Sin.  O  !  then  my  loue  is  a  moste  cleare  and  brightest  star,  looke  not  with 
a  maleuolent  aspect  vppon  me,  but  let  your  eyes  bright  raise  vp  my  life  and 
so  extoll  my  thoughts  into  a  heauen  of  ioy. 

Lady  Troubles.  Perish  may  thy  selfe,  and  loue  together,  Heauen  graunt 
againe,  I  nere  may  heare  of  either.  Exit  Lady. 

Sla.  What  shall  I  doe  1  Enter  Nan. 

Nan.  Respect  her  moste  that  moste  of  all  loues  you.  O  doe  not  turn  away 
those  e37es,  whose  radient  beanies  first  nursd  my  flame. 

Sla.  Auoide  thou  vnresistable  torteror,  more  fretting  to  my  thoughts  then 
Cancars  are  to  mettalls  !  How  often  haue  I  told  thee  of  my  hatred  :  for  of 
this  bee  thou  sure,  and  still  remembred,  deep  hate  (like  loue)  can  hardly  be 
dissembled.  Exit  Slacke* 

Nan.  I,  doost  thou  hate  mee  then  ?  O  brightest  Venus  now  or  neuer  make 
thy  blinde  Sonne  see,  and  wound  his  heart  whose  hate  hath  wounded  me. 

Enter  Ntiecome. 

Nue.  O  here  she  is  :  pray  God  my  band  sit  well !  Faire  Ladie,  may 
I  presume  with  the  bee  to  sucke  honny  from  thy  lippes,  for  I  dream'd  the 
last  night  — 

Nan.  Nay,  I  thought  he  would  woe  mee  dreaming  like  a  Welchman  ! 

Nue.  That  I  was  transfigured,  metamorphisd,  or  transform'd  into  a  flea. in 
thy  bed. 

Nan.  But  did  not  I  kill  ye  then  ? 

Nue.  Mee  thought  you  did,  but  first,  I  dream't,  I  stung  you. 

Nan.  Yet  againe  dreaming ;  ile  talke  no  more,  but  be  gone,  for  feare 
I  wake  him.  Exit  Nan. 

Nue.  And  then  me  thought,  as  I  was  skipping  from  your  knee  vnto  your 
thigh,  and  so  foorth,  you  tolde  a  gentleman  of  it,  a  friend  of  yours,  who 
most  courtly  and  softly  putting  in  his  hand  to  catch  me.  Spretious  34)  shee's 
gone  :  sure  tis  the  accutnes  of  my  ingenuitie  which  makes  my  iestes  so 


33)  Das  Stuck  ist  auch  in  seinen  gereimten  Stellen  zumeist  als  Prosa 
gedruckt. 

34)  God's  precious  ;  zu  erganzen  ist  ein  Begriff  wie  'body',  'cross',  'pas 
sion'  ;  cf.  A.  E.  H.  Swaen  «  Figures  of  Imprecation  »  E.  St.  XXIV,  p.  33. 


-  35  — 

stinging,  as  she  cannot  indure  them.  I  must  needs  eat  some  of  your  nevv 
court  water  gruel,  to  qualifie  my  inuention. 
Enter  Peg. 

Peg.  Thou  needst  not  loue,  speak  what  thou  wilt,  if  gently  thou  doe 
speake  ;  thy  wordes  to  me  are  much  more  musicall  then  is  a  Syrens  voice. 
Orpheus  himselfe  could  neuer  straine  his  high  stretch'd  strings  to  such 
melodious  sounds,  as  when  thy  voice  doth  peerce  the  eare. 

Nut.  Tis  but  for  my  wit  she  loues  mee  :  I  sent  35)  her  trick  alreadie  :  for 
Courtiers  must  as  well,  thriuing  be  36),  Haue  noses  to  smell  out  as  eies  to 
see.  Kxit  Nuecome. 

Peg.  Dispeisde  and  left  alone,  fild  brim  full  of  griefe,  and  no  way  to 
vnloade  me  of  my  cares,  But  through  these  running  eyes  in  streames  of 
teares. 

Enter  Knight. 

Knight.  Whose  teares  like  to  a  clere,  yet  poisoned  source,  haue  with  their 
vapors  through  these  eyes  (the  windowes  to  my  heart)  infected  al  my 
thoughts.  Thy  eyes  doe  shoote  forth  glances  like  to  starres,  though  seated 
in  a  moiste  and  rainie  skie,  the  which  hath  wounded  euen  my  heart  & 
I  must  die,  Least  Achilles  launce-like,  healed  by  your  63*6. 

Peg.  I  pi  ay  you  seeke  some  where  else,  if  you  bee  ill, 

For  I  in  surgerie  haue  little  skill. 

Exit  Peg. 
Knight.      He  follow  my  suite,  not  ceassing  til  the  moste  of  tryal, 

For  hee's  a  foole  in  loue  that  takes  denyall. 

Exit  Knight. 
Cupid.         Heere  hath  beene  a  mase,  a  round, 

A  whirligig  in  loue  : 

How  like  the  spoakes  of  a  Ladies  Coach-wheeles, 

They  runne  one  after  another  : 

And  as  of  them  you  see  neither  : 

So  none  of  these  can  ouertake  either. 

And  though  you  see,  each  thus  forsaken, 

The}r  shall  be  marryed,  but  mistaken  : 

Which  for  performance  yet  a  while, 

I  must  be  labouring  to  beguile 

Onely  the  men,  and  make  them  venter, 

To  runne  a  circle  faire  from  center, 

Of  their  hopes  :  yet  for  their  good, 

Where  blinded  each  like  hauke  in  hood, 

Shall  marry  better  then  they  wooed. 

Exit  Cupid. 

(Citiert  nach  der  Editio  piinceps  von  1607,  Akt  V,  pp.  I4b  bis  K2). 

Die  Frauen  maskieren  sich  und  tauschen  ihre  Schmuck- 
sachen  so  untereinander  aus,  dass  die  Manner,  im  Glauben, 
mit  der  Geliebten  vor  den  Altar  zu  treten,  die  Liebende 
heiraten.  Da  Cupid  noch  vor  der  Entdeckung  des  «  Betruges  » 


35)  i.  e.  scent. 

36)  Dus  Mctrum  verlangt  die  Besscrung  :  thriving  to  be. 


—  36  — 

die  Neigungen  der  Manner  geandert  hat,  geht  das  Spiel  mit 
frohlichem  Scherz  und  Tanz  aus.  — 

Der  glatte  Verlauf  der  Haupthandlung  wird  durch  viele 
zumeist  derb-komische  Intermezzi  aufgehalten,  deren  wich- 
tigstes  folgenden  Inhalt  hat  : 

Der  ausserst  eifersiichtige  Sir  Timothy  Troublesome  gerat 
in  hochste  Aufregung,  als  er  von  der  Ankunft  des  jungen  Lord 
Nonsuch  hort.  Sein  Argwohn  ist  erklarlich,  denn  der  Lord 
hat  die  Lady  Troublesome  gleich  nach  seiner  Ankunft  brieflich 
um  Erwiderung  seiner  Liebe  gebeten.  Diesen  und  alle  folgen 
den  Annaherungsversuche  weist  die  Lady  mit  tiefer,  ehrlicher 
Entriistung  zuruck  :  «  and  though  my  husband  watch  you  at 
the  doore,  yet  know  within  my  conscience  watcheth  mee  ; 
though  he  be  blinded  with  a  tricke,  yet  the  cleare  all-light- 
giuers  eyes  doe  see  !  »  Da  trotzdem  Troublesomes  Argwohn 
bestandig  wachst,  beschliesst  er,  die  Treue  seiner  Frau  in 
ebenso  einfacher  wie  abscheulicher  Weise  auf  die  Probe  zu 
stellen  :  er  lasst  sich  durch  einen  Arzt  impotent  machen.  So 
wiirde  sich  ja  bald,  wenn  sie  schwanger  wiirde,  ihre  Schuld 
herausstellen.  Indessen  wagt  Nonsuch  in  der  Verkleidung 
eines  Dieners  einerseits  immer  erneute,  doch  stets  erfolglose 
Angriffe  auf  die  eheliche  Treue  der  Lady,  und  bestarkt  anderer- 
seits,  wo  er  kann,  die  Eifersucht  ihres  Gemahls  durch  erlogene 
Berichte  iiber  sie,  um  so  eine  Trennung  der  Gatten  herbei- 
zufuhren.  So  erzahlt  er  schliesslich  auch  dem  Ritter,  seine 
Frau  sei  schwanger,  ihre  Untreue  also  klar  erwiesen.  Er  rat 
ihm,  sich  scheiden  zu  lassen  ;  dieser  Schritt  wird  nur  verhin- 
dert  durch  das  energische  Eintreten  des  Dieners  der  Lady  fur 
die  Unschuld  seiner  Herrin.  Troublesome  beruhigt  sich  wieder 
und  versohnt  sich  mit  seiner  Frau,  nachdem  er  sie  kniefallig 
um  Verzeihung  gebeten  hat,  mit  dem  Versprechen,  fur  immer 
seine  Eifersucht  ablegen  zu  wollen.  Doch  immer  noch  gibt 
Nonsuch  seine  Hoffnung,  bei  der  Lady  Gehor  zu  finden,  nicht 
auf.  Als  Captain  verkleidet,  gelangt  er  wiederum  in  ihr  Schlaf- 
zimmer  :  erfolglos.  Wieder  verdachtigt  der  stiirmische  Lieb- 
haber  die  Widerspenstige  bei  ihrem  Gemahl;  dieses  Mai  glaubt 
ihm  Sir  Timothy  und  lasst  sich  wirklich  scheiden.  Erst  durch 
Cupids  Dazwischentreten  findet  schliesslich  eine  endgiiltige 
Aussohnung  zwischen  den  Ehegatten  statt. 


-  37  - 

QncllemintersncJning.  —  Der  Inhalt  der  Haupthancllung  vort 
Qupids)  Wh(irligig)  entspricht,  so  farblos  und  fragmentarisch 
er  dargestellt  ist,  dem  Grundgedanken  nach  durchaus  dem  von 
Shakespeares  «  Mids.  N.  Dr.  ».  Puck,  der  das  ihm  anvertraute 
Zaubermittel  unfreiwillig  missbraucht  und  die  Liebe  junger 
Menschenkinder  so  vcrwirrt,  dass  sie  in  Hass  und  Trauer 
verwandelt  wird,  ist  ohne  Zweifel  das  unserm  Dichter  nur  gar 
zu  unerreichbare  Vorbild  des  Cupido  in  C.  Wh.  gewesen.  Was 
bei  Shakespeare  den  zarten  Ton  jugendlicher  Anmut  hat,  ist 
in  C.  Wh.  nach  Behandlungswoise  und  Ausdruck  zum  grob- 
derben,  unkiinstlerischen  Schwank  geworden.  Man  vergleiche 
die  oben  pp.  84  f.  wiedergegebene  Whirligig-Scene  mit  den 
ahnlichen  Stellen  im  «  Mids.  N.  Dr.  »  (II,  2,  io3  bis  134;  III, 
2,  122  bis  338). 

Ebenso  unbestreitbar  wie  die  Identitat  der  Schelme  Cupid- 
Puck  und  ihrer  Taten  ist  die  der  Eifersuchtsnarren  Trouble 
some  in  C.  Wh.  und  Don  Zuccone  in  Marstons  «  Par.  ».  Das 
Personenverzeichnis  des  «  Par.  »  gibt  an  :  Don  Zuccone,  a 
causelessly  jealous  lord,  das  von  C.  Wh.  :  Sir  Timothy  Trouble 
some,  a  iealious  Knight.  Die  stofflichen  Ubereinstimmungen 
sind  augenscheinlich  :  Zuccone  ist  ausserst  eifersiichtig  ;  wie 
Troublesome  hat  schon  er,um  dieTreue  seiner  Frau  zu  priifen, 
eine  Methode  angewandt,  die  ihm  unzweifelhafte  Gewissheit 
verschaffen  musste  :  er  gibt  jeden  ehelichen  Verkehr  mit  ihr 
auf  (cf.  «  Par.  »  II,  i,  222  ;  2S5  f.  ;  33i  bis  341 ;  ib.  IV,  i,  323  ff. ; 
342  f.).  Ein  schalkhafter  Diener  (Dondolo)  verbreitet  —  wie 
der  verkleidete  Nonsuch  in  C.  Wh.  —  das  Geriicht,  sie  sei 
schwanger :  Zuccone  lasst  sich  —  wie  Troublesome  —  scheiden 
(cf.  «  Par.  »  II,  i,  432  f.  ;  ib.  IV,  i,  297  f.).  Als  er  die  vollige 
Unschuld  seiner  Frau  erkennt,  bittet  er  sie  auf  den  Knien  um 
Verzeihung,  die  er  erst  erhalt,  nachdem  er  geschworen  hat, 
seine  torichte  Eifersucht  fur  immer  ablegen  zu  wollen  (vgl. 
oben  p.  36  und  «  Par.  »  V,  I,  91  ff.  ;  3i3  ff.).  Den  klaren 
Beweis  der  Abhangigkeit  unserer  Cupidkomodie  von  Marston 
liefert  der  inhaltlich  und  sprachlich  recht  beachtenswerte 
Monolog  Troublesomes  : 

Forgiuenesse  wife  :  O  how  haue  I  wrong'd  thee  !  O  who  would  abuse 
your  sex,  which  truely  knowes  ye  ?  O  women  were  we  not  borne  of  ye  ? 
should  we  not  then  honour  you  ?  nurs'd  by  ye,  and  not  regard  ye  ?  begotten 
on  ye,  and  not  loue  yee  ?  made  for  ye  and  not  seeke  ye  ?  and  since  we  were 


—  38  — 

made  before  yee,  should  we  not  lone  and  admire  ye  as  the  last,  and  there 
fore  perfect'st  work  of  nature,  Ma  was  made  when  nature  was  but  an 
apprentice,  but  woman  when  she  was  skilfull  Mistresse  of  her  Arte ;  there 
fore  curssed  is  he  that  doth  not  admire  those  Paragons,  those  Moddels  of 
heauen,  Angels  on  earth,  Goddesses  in  shape  :  by  their  loues  we  Hue  in 
double  breath,  euen  in  our  ofspring  after  death  !  Are  not  all  Vices  mas 
culine,  and  Vertues  feminine  ?  are  not  the  Muses  the  loues  of  the  learned  ? 
doe  not  all  noble  spirrits  followe  the  Graces,  because  they  are  women  ; 
there's  but  one  Phoenix  and  shee's  a  female  :  Is  not  the  Princes  and 
foundres  of  good  artes,  Minerua,  borne  of  the  braine  of  highest  Joue,  a 
woman  ?  haue  not  these  women  the  face  of  loue,  the  tongue  of  perswasion, 
the  body  of  delight  ?  O  deuine  perfectio'd  women,  whose  praises  no  tongue 
can  ful  expresse.  for  that  the  matter  doth  exceede  the  labour,  O,  if  to  be  a 
Woman  bee  so  excellent,  what  is  it  then  to  be  a  woman  inritch't  by  nature, 
made  excellent  by  education,  noble  by  birth,  chaste  by  vertue,  adorn'd  by 
beautie  !  a  faire  woman  which  is  the  ornament  of  heauen,  the  grace  of 
earth,  the  ioy  of  life,  and  the  delight  of  all  sence,  euen  the  uerie  summum 
bonum  of  mans  life.  (Akt  II  ;  vgl.  Ed.  pr.  von  1607,  p.  DS). 

Der  Inhalt  und  Ton  dieses  das  Weib  verherrlichenden  Mo- 
nologes  deckt  sich  vollig  mit  dem  Mendozas  im  «  Malcontent  » 
(I,  i,  33g  ff.)  und  dem  Tiberios  im  «  Par.  »  (III,  I,  5ig  ff.).  Auf 
folgende  Stellen  sei  besonders  hingewiesen  : 

«  Par.  »  III,  i,  5ig  f. :  «  Thou  last  and  only  rareness  of  Heaven's 
works  |  From  best  of  man  made  model  of  the  gods  I  »  (Vgl.  den- 
selben  Gedanken  in  Marstons  «  Dutch  Court.  »  I,  I,  147  ff.  : 
«  Beauty  is  woman's  virtue,  love  the  life's  music,  and  woman  the 
dainties  or  second  course  of  heaven's  curious  workmanship  »). 

«  Par.  »  ib.  521  f.  :  «  Divinest  woman,  thou  perfection  \  Of  all 
proportion's  beauty,  made  when  Jove  was  blithe  ».  —  Beachtens- 
wert  sind  auch  folgende  Worte  des  reuigen  Zuccone  mit  ihrer 
Anspielung  auf  das  Fortleben  des  Mannes  in  seinen  Kindern, 
die  er  der  Gattin  verdankt  :  «  0  you  comforters  of  life,  helps  in 
sickness,  joys  in  death,  and  preservers  of  us,  in  our  children,  after 
death,  women  have  mercy  on  me  !  »  («  Par.  »  IV,  i,  568  ff.)  —  ein 
von  Sharphams  reuigem  Sir  Troublesome  wiederholter,  nicht 
ganz  alltaglicher  Gedanke. 

Ausserdem  vgl.  man  zu  der  Miner va-Eiwahnung  in  Trouble- 
somes  Monolog  noch  folgende  Parasitaster-Stelle  :  «  And  thou, 
quick  issue  of  Jove's  broken  pate,  \  Aid  and  direct  us  ».  («  Par.  » 
IV,  i,  718). 

Im  «  Malcont.  »  beachte  man  folgende  Worte  Mendozas  : 
«  Sweet  women  !  most  sweet  ladies  I  nay,  angels  !  by  heaven,  he  is 
more  accursed  than  a  devil  that  hates  you,  or  is  hated  by  you... 
how  imperiously  chaste  is  your  more  modest  face  I  » 


-3g- 

Einen  weiteren  Bevveis  clafiir,  wie  stark  Sharpham  in  C.  Wh. 
von  Marston  beeinrlusst  ist,  liefert  uns  eine  ganzlich  iiber- 
fliissige  Scene  seines  Lustspiels.  Im  letzten  Akte  bringt  der 
Dichter  namlich  eine  Schulscene  auf  die  Biihne.  Es  treten  auf : 
der  Pedant  Master  Correction,  die  lustige  Person  Wage  und 
vier  Schiiler  : 

Enter  foure  Boycs. 

1.  Boy  :  Nominatiuo  hie,  hiec,  hoc. 

2.  Boy  :  A  nowne  is  the  name  of  a  thing. 

3.  Boy  :  AntOj  awas,  amaui,  amare. 

4.  Boy  :  In  speech  be  these  eight  partes. 

Ma.  Corr.  :...  what  part  of  speech  is  mentula  ? 

i.  Boy  :  A  nowne  adiectiue. 

Ma.  Corr.  And  wh3r  a  nowne  adiectiue  ? 

1 .  Boy  :  Because  it  stands  not  by  himself c,  but  it  requires  another  word  to  be  ioyned 
with  it. 

Ma,  Corr.  :...  how  construe  you  this  verse  Timothy  : 
Jam,  iam,  Tacturus  sidera  summa  putes  ? 

2.  Boy  :  Jam,  iam,  O  John,  John,  putes,  doe  thou  put,  Sidera  summa, 
Sider  in  summer,  Tacturus,  in  Tankerds. 

Es  folgt  dann  eine  Lektion  iiber  die  Wirkung  geistiger 
Getranke  auf  den  Menschen.  Nach  der  Ansicht  des  3.  Boy 
besteht  sie  darin,  dass  der  Teufel  den  Trinker  mit  «  strange 
Earthquakes  »  heimsucht.  Dann  fahrt  Master  Correction  fort, 
wie  folgt  : 

Ma.  Corr.  Nay  then  sir  you  shall  preuaile  indeede  :  you  shal,  yet  I 
remember  Dionisius  ille  Tiranus  Siciliae  crudelissimus  crudelissimus  Sici- 
liae  Tiranus  ille  Dionisius  :  saies  to  one  of  his  pupils  :  hue  ades,  hoc  ammo 
concipe  dicta  tuo.  So  I  say  vnto  you  all  my  Maisters,  reuerere  Maiores  :  plucke 
off  your  hats  to  your  betters,  and  looke  yee  giue  the  Woman  the  wall,  and 
so  goe  your  wayes... 

Wage  hatte  namlich  fur  die  Schiiler  um  die  Erlaubnis  gebeten, 
spielen  zu  diirfen. 

/  Gratias 

\  Gratias 

Omnes  Gratias 

\  Gratias. 

Das  Material  fur  diese  Lektion  musste  die  in  jener  Zeit 
allgemein  bekannte  Lateingrammatik  des  William  Lily  und» 
zwar  die  Ausgabe  vom  Jahre  i566  37)  liefern.  Den  Nachweis 


37)  Neudruck  von  Dr.  S.  Blach  imSh         »  are-Jahrbuch  XLIV,  pp.  65  If. 
und  XLV,  pp.  5 1  if. 


—  40  — 

dafiir  erbringe  ich,  indem  ich  folgende  Stellen  aus  dieser 
Grammatik  den  oben  p.  3g  durch  Cursivdrack  hervorgeho- 
benen  gegeniiberstelle  : 

1.  Nominatiuo  hie,  haec,  hoc.  (Sh.-Jahrb.  XLIV,  p.  76). 

2.  A  nowne  is  the  name  of  a  thynge  (a.  a.  O.  p.  75). 

3.  A.mo,  amas,  amaui,  amare  (a.  a.  O.  p.  89). 

4.  In  speche  be  these  viii.  partes  followynge  (a.  a.  O.  p.  75). 

5.  A  nowne  adiectiue  is  that  can  not  stancle  by  hymselfe,  but  requireth  to 
be  ioyned  with  another  word,...  (a.  a.  O.  p.  75). 

6.  Hue  ades,  haec  animo  concipe  dicta  tuo  (Sh.-Jahrb.  XLV,  p.  75,  Z.  1699), 

eine  Stelle  aus  dem  bei  den  Dramatikern  sehr  beliebten 
«  Carmen  Guillelmi  Lilii  ad  discipulos,  de  moribus  ». 

Obwohl  einzelne  der  von  Sharpham  verwendeten  Floskeln 
direkt  auf  die  Lilysche  Grammatik  zuriickgehen,  da  sie  sich 
nur  bei  Sharpham,  nicht  aber  auch  in  Pedantenscenen  anderer 
Autoren  38)  finden  (vgl.  Floskel  3,  4,  6),  so  kann  doch  keinem 
Zweifel  unterliegen,  dass  der  aussere  Aufbau  dieser  Scene  in 
C.  Wh.  wiederum  auf  Marstons  Vorbild,  und  zwar  auf  die 
Schulscene  in  «  What  you  Will  »  (entst.  um  iCoi),  in  der 
2.  Scene  des  II.  Aktes,  zuiiickzufiihren  ist.  Wahrend  bei  alien 
anderen  Autoren  nur  ein  Bedauernswerter  sich  dem  peinlichen 
Verhor  des  Pedanten  coram  publico  auszusetzen  hat,  sind  es 
bei  Marston  (wie  bei  Sharpham)  deren  mehrere.  Wie  bei 
Sharpham,  so  wird  auch  bei  Marston  das  grausame  Spiel  end- 
lich  abgebrochen,  nachdem  ein  Zuhorer  (Wage-Quadratus) 
fiir  die  Schiiler  um  einen  freien  Tag  gebeten  hat,  damit  sie  sich 
dem  Spiele  hingeben  konnten.  In  C.  Wh.  erteilt  der  Pedant 
diese  Erlaubnis  mit  den  Worten  :...  land  so  goe your  wayes',  in 
«  What  you  Will  »  mit  den  folgenden  :  'Ludendi  venia  est  petita 
et  concessa1.  Die  Antwort  des  Schiilerchores  ist  in  beiden  Fallen 
ubereinstimmend  :  'Gratias'.  Auch  den  an  das  Wort  mentula 
gekniipften  obsconen  Scherz  hat  der  Autor  wohl  dem  ahnlichen 
in  Marstons  «  Par.  »  (IV,  I,  226)  zu  verdanken. 

Eine  Scene  in  C.  Wh.  ist,  wie  schon  im  DNB  angedeutet, 
zweifellos  auf  eine  Erzahlung  im  «  Decameron  »  des  Boccaccio 
zuriickzufiihren  :  Nonsuch  ist  in  das  Schlafzimmer  der  Lady 
Troublesome  gedrungen,  um  sie  um  Erfullung  seiner  leiden- 


38)  Vgl.  iiber  solche  Fr.  Kettler  «  Latein.  Zitate  in  den  Dramen  namhaftef 
Zeitgenossen  Shakespeares  »,  pp.  85  f.,  90  ff.,  100  f. 


schaftlichen  Wiinsche  zu  bitten.  Kaum  hat  er  wenige  Worte 
gesprochcn,  als  ein  Richter,  Master  Exhibition,  der  die  Lady 
ebenso  heiss  liebt,  in  derselben  Absicht  das  Haus  betritt.  Lady 
Troublesome  sieht  ihn  kommen  und  verbirgt  den  jungen  Lord 
eilends  ;  wiihrend  sie  sich  noch  im  Gesprach  mit  Master 
Exhibition  befindet,  sieht  sie  plotzlich  ihren  eifersiichtigen 
Gatten  zuriickkehren.  Ein  rascher  Entschluss  rettet  sie  und 
die  beiden  Galane  :  Exhibition  muss  auf  ihren  Befehl  sein 
Rapier  ziehen  und  schimpfend  und  Rache  schworend  die 
Treppe  hinablaufen,  an  dem  Ritter  vorbei.  Als  Troublesome 
in  das  Zimmer  seiner  Frau  kommt  und  sie  fragt,  aus  welchem 
Grunde  der  Ritter  so  aufgeregt  aus  dem  Hause  gestiirzt  ware, 
zeigt  ihm  die  Lady  den  vor  Angst  zitternden  als  Kapitan 
verkleideten  Nonsuch  und  erzahlt  ihrem  Gemahl,  dieser  arme, 
ihr  vollig  unbekannte  Mensch  habe  sich,  um  der  Wut  eines 
Todfeindes  zu  entgehen,  in  ihr  Haus  gefliichtet ;  sie  habe 
Mitleid  mit  ihm  gehabt  und  ihn  in  ihrem  Zimmer  verborgen 
gehalten,  bis  der  blutgierige  Verfolger  sich  wieder  entfernt 
habe.  Troublesome  glaubt  das  Marchen  und  ladt  den  vermeint- 
lich  Verfolgten  zum  Abendbrot  ein,  um  ihn  nachher  selbst 
nach  Hause  zu  geleiten.  Ganz  genau  dieselbe  Geschichte  wird 
uns  Decam.  VII,  6  von  Madonna  Isabella  und  den  beiden 
Liebhabern  Leonetto  und  Lambertuccio  erzahlt.  Die  Uber- 
einstimmung  erstreckt  sich  auf  alle  Einzelheiten.  — 

Die  V erf asserf rage.  —  Die  Titelblatter  der  drei  von  mir  im 
Br.  Mus.  besichtigten  Quartos  von  C.  Wh.  fiihren  keinen 
Autornamen.  Eine  alien  drei  Ausgaben  gleichlautend  voran- 
geschickte  Widmung,  die  der  Verfasser  an  seinen  Freund 
Maister  Robert  Hayman  richtet,  tragt  die  Unterschrift  E  :  S. 
Wahrscheinlich  nur  auf  Grund  dieser  Initialen  schlie^sen 
DNB,  Fleay  39),  Malone  40),  Hutchinson  41)  und  andere, 
dass  Edward  Sharpham  der  Verfasser  der  Komodie  war, 
wahrend  Baker  42)  die  Moglichkeit  einer  andern  Erganzung 
der  Initialen  andeutet.  Er  sagt  :  «  Coxeter  relates,  that  he  had 


»)  Biogr.  Chron.  II,  p.  232. 

*°)  «  Catalogue  of  Early  Engl.  Poetry  »  etc.  p.  40. 

41)  «  A  Catal.  of  Notable  Middle  Templars  »  p.  222. 

42)  «  Biographia  Dramatica  »  II,  p.  146. 


been  assured  by  an  old  bookseller,  that  this  play  was  entered  at 
Stationers'  Hall  as  Shakspeare's,  but  at  that  time  thought  falsely, 
in  order  to  make  it  sell.  We  do  not  discover  any  such  entry  in  the 
Stationers1  books.  The  letters  E.  S.  were  probably  intended  for 
Edward  Sharpham...  It  [i.  e.  C.  Wh.\  is  too  licentious  to  have  been 
the  work  of  Shakspeare  ».  Zur  Beleuchtung  dieser  von  Baker 
wiedergegebenen  Bemerkung  Coxeters  fuhre  ich  folgende 
«  Woman  »  uberschriebene  Stelle  aus  einem  umfangreichen, 
besonders  literar-historische  Anekdoten  enthaltenden  Jest- 
book  43)  der  ersten  Halfte  des  XIX.  Jahrhunderts  an  :  «  The 
following  curious  compliment  to  the  fair  sex  is  extracted  from  an. 
old  play  entitled  Cupid's  Whirligig  :  «  Who  would  abuse  your  sex 
that  knows  it?  O  woman...  [es  folgt  der  oben  pp.  37  f.  wieder- 
gegebene  Monolog  des  Sir  Troublesome  iiber  die  Tugend  der 
FrauenJ...  This  old  play,  written  in  1607,  and  falsely  ascribed  to 
Shakspeare,  is  rarely  met  with...  »  (p.  g3).  Man  sieht  also,  dass 
jener  alte  Buchhandler,  von  dem  Coxeter  berichtet,  mit  seiner 
geschaftsklugen  Behauptung  nicht  isoliert  stand,  sondern  dass 
eine  literarische  Tradition,  die  allerdings  schon  im  18.  Jahr- 
hundert  als  falsch  fallen  gelassen  war,  die  Autorschaft  Shake- 
speares  fur  dieses  Werk  behauptet  hatte  44).  In  den  S.  R.  findet 
sich  tatsachlich  bei  der  fraglichen  Eintragung  kein  Hinweis 
auf  die  Person  Shakespeares  (vgl.  oben  p.  7),  wie  aucb  die 
Schlussbemerkung  Bakers  ('it  is  too  licentious'  etc.)  durchaus 
zutreffend  ist.  Ubrigens  wird  der  Autor  von  C.  Wh.  in  direkten 
Gegensatz  zu  Shakespeare  und  andern  tragischen  Dichtern 
gestellt,  wenn  es  im  Prolog  jenes  Werkes  heisst  : 

«  Our  Authors  Pen,  loues  not  to  swim  in  blood, 
He  dips  no  Inke,  from  out  blacke  Acheron  : 
Nor  suckes  inuention,  from  the  depth  of  hell, 
Nor  crosseth  Seas  to  get  a  forraine  plot. 
He  taxes  no  Goddesses  for  foulest  lust, 
Nor  doth  disclose  the  secret  scapes  of  love  : 
He  rips  not  vp  the  horred  maw  of  hell, 
To  shew  foule  treasons  hideous  ouglie  face. 
Nor  doth  he  touch  the  falles  of  mightie  Kings, 
No  antient  Historic,  no  Shepheards  loue. 
No  statesmans  life,  no  power  of  death  he  showes...  » 


48)  Vgl.  oben  p.  7. 

44)  Dass  der  Herausgeber  des  durchaus  unwissenschaftlichen  Jestbook 
nicht  die  oben  zitierte  Bemerkung  Bakeis  als  Quelle  benutzt  hat,  ist  zwei- 
fellos,  da  er  sonst  auch  den  bei  Baker  als  wahrscheinlicher  Autor  erwahnten 
Edward  Sharpham  genannt  hatte. 


-  43  - 

Endlich  verneinen  m.  E.  auch  die  in  niindestcns  drei  Auflagen 
des  Werkes  (1607,  1611,  1616)  unverandert  wiederkehrenden 
Initialen  E.  (!)  S.  als  Unterschrift  einer  Widmung  die  Moglich- 
keit  der  Autorschaft  eines  W.  (!)  S.  ganz  entschieden.  — 

Welche  Anspriiche  auf  die  Verfasserschaft  von  C.  Wh;  wir 
Eduard  Sharpham  zubilligen,  mogen  die  folgenden  Betrach- 
tungen  ergeben  : 

Edward  Sharpham  belaud  sich  im  Zeitpunkte  der  Herausgabe 
des  Fl.  nach  der  Vorrede  eines  seiner  Verleger  (u  an  den  Leser 
und  Horer  »)  auf  einer  Reise  in  die  Provinz  [^  The  Author  is 
inuisible  to  me  (vis  :itti  Country)  but  whereabouts  I  cannot  learnen] ; 
zur  selben  Zeit  hatte  er  aber  nach  der  namlichen  Vorrede  schon 
seinenVerlegern  Arthur  Johnson  und  John  Busbie  die  Lieferung 
eines  weiteren  heiteren  Buhnenstiickes  in  Aussichtgestellt(«W£ 
these  Comicall  discourses  fauourablie  and  you  shall  haue  some  from 
the  Author  heereafter  more  worthie  your  fauours  and  affections »). 
Nach  dem  derartig  angekiindigten  Werke  Edward  Sharphams 
suchen  wir  aber  unter  Beriicksichtigung  der  zeitgenossischen 
Werke  mit  vollem  Autornamen  vergebens;  unter  den  anonymen 
Dramen  deutet  ausserlich  nur  C.  Wh.  eben  wegen  der  Initialen 
E.  S.  und  wegen  der  Publikation  durch  dieselben  Verleger  45) 
Arthur  Johnson  und  John  Busbye  [sic](vgl.obenpp.6f.)auf  den 
Verfasser  des  Fl.  hin.  Wenn  uns  nun  aber  E.  S.,  der  Verfasser 
von  C.  Wh.,  in  seiner  Widmung  an  Robert  Hayman  ungefahr 
dasselbe  von  sich  selbst  berichtet,  was  etwa  dreiviertel  Jahr 
friiher  der  Verleger  des  Fl.  von  Edward  Sharpham  gesagt 
hatte,  namlich,  class  er  vor  einiger  Zeit  eine  Reise  unternommen 
und  wahrendderselben  den  Plan  zu  einem  dramatischen  Werke 
gefasst  habe  («  since  our  trauailes  I  haue  bene  pregnant  with 
disire  to  bring  foorth  something  whereunto  you  may  be  witnesse  »), 
so  1st  schon  auf  Grund  dieser  Umstande  eine  Identitat  jenes 
E.  S.  mit  Edward  Sharpham  recht  naheliegend.  Des  weiteren 
ist  zu  beachten,  dass  E.  S.  seine  Komodie  seinem  'much 
honoured,  beloued,  respected,  and  iudiciall  friend,  Maister  Robert 
Haymarf  4G)  widmet.  Eine  so  herzliche  Anrede,  und  die  nach 


45)  Auf  diesen  Umstand  ist  es  zuriickzufiihren,  dass  Fl.  und  C.  Wh.  eine 
Kopfleiste  gemeinsam  haben  (Fl.  iiber  dem  Titelbl.,  C.  Wh.  iiber  dem 
Prolog  Cupids;. 

46)  Vgl.  iiber  diesen  oben  §  i  und  D  N  B  unter  Rob.  Hayman. 


-  44- 

den  Worten  der  Widmung  (s.  o.)  gemeinsamen  Reisen  setzen 
innigste  personliche,  nichtnurliterarische  Freundschaft  voraus, 
und  eine  solche  ware  auch  zwischen  Hayman  und  Edward 
Sharpham  durchaus  erklarlich.  Die  beiden  Manner  waren 
Landsleute  im  engsten  Sinne,  da  beider  Wiege  in  der  Graf- 
schaft  Devon  gestanden  hat.  Wenn  zwischen  Hayman  und 
E.  S.  eine  enge  Freundschaft  durch  die  Widmung  erwiesen 
ist,  so  sind  auch  fur  das  Bestehen  einer  solchen  zwischen 
Hayman  und  Edward  Sharpham  geniigend  Vorbedingungen 
gegeben  ;  die  Wahrscheinlichkeit  der  Identitat  des  Anonymus 
und  unseres  Dichters  ist  demnach  gross. 

Ein  nicht  unwichtiges  inneres  Moment  zur  Beantwortung 
der  Autorfrage  ist  zweifellos  auch  die  Tatsache,  dass  dem  Fl. 
und  C.  Wh.  das  gleiche  Werk  zur  Quelle  diente,  namlich 
Marstons  «  Par.  »  (vgl.  oben  pp.  3?  f.).  Durch  die  Haupt- 
handlung  dieses  Werkes,  die  den  Grundstoff  des  Fl.  lieferte, 
zieht  sich  das  Eifersuchtsdrama  zwischen  Don  Zuccone  und 
seiner  Zoya  hin.  Diese  Zweiteilung  des  «  Par.  »,  die  jedem 
Leser  auffallen  muss,  ist  natiirlich  auch  dem  stoffsuchenden 
Sharpham  nicht  eritgangen  :  was  konnte  ihm  bequemer  liegen, 
als  den  Uberfluss  an  Stoff,  den  der  «  Par.  »  bot,  auf  zwei 
Werke  zu  verteilen.  So  wurde  der  ernste  Teil  des  «  Par.  » 
zum  Schauspiel  «  The  Fleire  »,  der  heitere  zur  Posse  «  Cupids 
Whirligig  »  ;  beide  Werke  erganzen  sich,  ihre  Summe  ergibt 
ein  deutliches,  wenn  auch  verzerrtes  Spiegelbild  des  «  Par.  ». 
Die  Zerlegung  dieses  Werkes  ist  so  organisch  vorgenommen 
worden,  dass  unbedingt  nur  eine  Hand  sie  ausgefiihrt  haben 
kann. 

Weitere  stichhaltige  innere  Grunde,  die  auf  einen  gemein 
samen  Verfasser  fur  Fl.  und  C.  Wh.  schliessen  lassen,  sind 
kaum  zu  ermitteln  ;  doch  wird  dem  Leser  dieser  Dramen  ihre 
Stil-  und  Tonverwandtschaft  nicht  verborgen  bleiben  konnen. 
M.  E.  berechtigt  das  angefuhrte  Beweismaterial  vollstandig 
zu  dem  Schlusse,  dass  Edward  Sharpham,  dem  wir  das  iminer- 
hin  achtenswerte  Schauspiel  «The  Fleire  »  verdanken,  daneben 
die  Anfertigung  der  fliichtigen,  farcenhaften  Posse  «  Cupids 
Whirligig  »  auf  sein  Gewissen  zu  nehmen  hat.  — 


-45- 

4.  Sonett  in  Henry  Peachams  «  Minerva  Britanna  <?)  ». 

To  Master  Henry  Peacham. 
A  Vision  Vpon  This  His  Minerva. 

Methought  I  saw  in  dead  of  silent  night 
A  goodly  Citie  all  to  cinders  turned, 
Vpon  whose  ruines  sate  a  Nymphe  in  white, 
Rending  her  haire  of  wiery  gold,  who  mourned 
or  for  the  fall  of  that  Citie  burned, 
or  some  deare  Loue,  whose  death  so  made  her  sad, 
7.  That  since  no  ioye  in  worldly  thing  she  had. 
This  was  that  GENIUS  of  that  auntient  TROY, 
In  her  owne  ashes  buried  long  ago  ; 
So  grieu'd  to  see  that  BRITAINE  should  enioy, 
Her  PALLAS,  whom  she  held  and  honour'd  so  : 
And  now  no  litle  memorie  could  show 
To  eternize  her,  since  she  did  infuse, 
14.  Her  Enthean  soule,  into  this  English  Muse. 

E.  S. 

Eine  ausfuhrliche  Diskussion  der  Autorschaftsfrage  dieses 
Sonettes  finden  wir  bereits  in  einer  Edition  des  Jonson'schen 
«  Sad  Shepherd  »  mit  einer  Fortsetzung  des  Werkes  von 
Francis  Godolphin  Waldron  (London  1783)  auf  pp.  144  ff.  des 
ebenfalls  von  Waldron  herriihrenden  Appendix  (vgl.  oben 
Anm.  l8a).  Waldron  (1744-1818)  kommt  dortzu  dem  Ergebnis, 
dass  Edmund  Spenser  der  Verfasser  des  Sonetts  ist;  und  zwar 
bestimmen  ihn  dazu  nur  internal  evidences ,  wahrend  alle  ausseren 
Umstande  die  Verfasserschaft  Spensers  energisch  verneinen. 
Waldron  vergleicht  das  Gedicht  mit  Spensers  «  The  Ruines 
of  Time  »,  einem  opus  von  etwa  700  Zeilen  Umfang  und  findet 
sehr  richtig  folgende  wortliche  Ubereinstimmungen  heraus  : 


47)  «  Minerva  Britanna  »  Or  Garden  of  Heroical  Deuises,  furnished,  and 
adorned  with  Emblemes  and  Impresa's  of  sundry  natures,  Newly  devised, 
moralized,  and  published,  by  Henry  Peacham,  Mr.  of  Artes.  London. 
Printed  in  Shoe-lane  at  the  sign  of  the  Faulcon  by  Wa  :  Dight,  [1612]. 
Diese  Jahreszahl  findet  sich  nicht  aut  dem  TUelblatt  des  Werkes,  sonderi; 
auf  der  letzten  Druckseite, 


-46  - 

Zu  Z.  3  :  Whether  she  were  one  of  that  Rivers  Nymph  es,...(Ruines  of 

T.  Z.  i5). 
Zu.  Z.  4  :  .        .        .        ,        .        I  did  behold 

A  Woman  sitting  sorrowfullie  wailing, 

Rending  her  yellow  locks,  like  wyrie  gold...  (ib.  Z.  8  ff.). 
Zu  Z.  5  und  8  :  Or  th'auncient  Genius  of  that  Citie  brent...  (ib.  Z.  19). 
Zu  Z.  6  :  Which  did  the  losse  of  some  dere  Love  lament,...  (ib.  Z.  16). 

Zu  Z.  7  :  'Ah  !  what  delight  (quoth  she)  in  earthlie  thing. 

Or  comfort  can  I,  wretched  creature,  have  ?'...  (ib.  Z.  22). 
Zu  Z.  9  :...         [I]  lye  in  mine  owne  ashes,  as  ye  see...  (ib.  Z.  40). 

Zu  Gunsten  von  Spensers  Autorschaft  konnte  man  ausserdem 
noch  auf  eine  von  Waldron  nicht  beachtete  metrische  Eigen- 
tiimlichkeit  dieses  Sonetts  aufmerksam  machen  :  es  zeigt  das 
auffallige  Reimschema  ababbcc-dedeeff,  das  auch  in  Spensers 
«  Ruines  of  Time  »  zweimal  verwendet  ist  (vgl.  Koeppels  Zu- 
sammenstellung  der  Reimschemata  der  Spenserschen  Sonette, 
E.  St.  XV,  79).  M.  E.  verraten  aber  die  erwahnten  phraseolo- 
gischen  Ubereinstimmungen  ein  so  ausgepragtes,  ja  unwur- 
diges  literarisches  Sklaventum,  dass  es  mir  widersteht,  einen 
Spenser  damit  zu  belasten,  sollte  er  auch  nur  einem  eigenen 
Erzeugnis  gegenuber  zum  Sklaven  geworden  sein.  Es  wird  mir 
schwer,  anzunehmen,  dass  ein  so  fruchtbringender  Dichter  wie 
Spenser,  um  einem  Freunde  ein  kleines  Widmungsspruchlein 
zu  schenken,  ein  etwa  700  Zeilen  fassendes  eigenes  Gedicht 
zur  Hand  nimmt  und  einige  Ausdriicke  der  ersten  sechs  Stro- 
phen  zu  dem  oben  zitierten  Machwerk  verarbeitet.  Die  zu  einer 
solchen  Prozedur  erforderliche  Zeit  und  Arbeit  hatte  ein 
Spenser  produktiver  zu  verwenden  gewusst.  Liegen,  wie  in 
unserm  Falle,  in  zwei  Dichtwerken  so  auffallig  gehaufte 
Ubereinstimmungen  spezieller  Phrasen  vor,  so  hat  man  m.  E. 
stets  an  zwei  Autoren,  von  denen  einer  notwendig  Plagiator 
ist,  zu  denken. 

Durchaus  gegen  die  Autorschaft  Spensers  spricht  iiberdies 
der  Umstand,  dass  das  Sonett  erst  in  Peachams  «  Min.  Brit.  », 
also  im  Jahre  1612,  erschienen  ist,  Spenser  aber  schon  zwolf 
Jahre  vorher  zu  Grabe  getragen  worden  war.  Waldron  glaubt 
diese  Schwierigkeit  mit  der  Annahme  beseitigen  zu  konnen, 
dass  das  Werk  schon  i5gg  fertig  gewesen  sei,  aber  wegen  der 
Schwierigkeit  der  Ausarbeitung  von  etwa  200  Holzschnitten 
erst  nach  12  (!)  Jahren  die  Presse  verlassen  habe.  Ich  halte 
diese  Erklarung  fur  unannehmbar,  um  so  mehr,  als  das  Buch 


-  47  - 

manches  Gedicht  enthalt,  das  seinem  Inhalte  nach  erst  nach 
i6o3  verfasst  worden  sein  kann  (vgl.  z.  B.  pp.  I,  II,  3i,  wo  sich 
Verse  auf  King  James  finden  !).  Auch  fiir  die  Annahme  einer 
Autorschaft  Sharphams  findet  sich  ausser  in  den  Initialen  E.  S. 
kein  stichhaltiger  Grund  48).  Wenn  wir  schon  bei  der  Bespre- 
chung  des  Sonetts  in  John  Davies'  «  Humours  Heau'n  on 
Earth  »  (vgl.  oben  pp.  9  f.)  auf  die  Heranziehung  innerer 
Griinde  verzichten  mussten,  so  fehlen  uns  hier  auch  alle 
iiusseren  Beweismittel.  Dass  Edw.  Sharpham  schon  1608  starb, 
widerspricht  der  Moglichkeit,  ihn  als  Autor  dieser  Widmung 
anzusehen,  ebenso  direkt,  wie  der  i5gg  eriblgte  Tod  Spensers 
diesen  vor  dem  Verdachte  der  Verfasserschaft  schiitzt.  Viel  eher 
konnte  man  daran  denken,  jene  Verse  einem  gewissen,  auch 
von  Waldron  erwahnten  Edmund  Scory,  einem  unbedeutenden 
Zeitgenossen  Shakespeares,  zuzuschreiben,  der  eine  Widmung 
zu  Draytons  «  Heroical  Epistles  »  und  vielleicht  eine  solche 
zu  Ben  Jonsons  «  Volpone  »  4<J)  verfasst  hat.  Uber  eine  Ver- 
mutung  kommt  man  aber  auch  betreffs  dieses  Mannes  nicht 
hinaus.  Es  kann  damals  verschiedene,  uns  unbekannte  Vers- 
schmiede  gegeben  haben,  denen  die  Initialen  E.  S.  zukamen. 


48)  DNI3    sagt    :    «  Some    verses,    signed    E.    S.,    prefixed    to    Henry 
Peacham's  'Minerva  Britanna',  have  been  ascribed  to  Sharpham  without 
much  probability  ». 

49)  Vgl.  Gifford,  Works  of  B.  Jons.,  vol.  I,  p.  CCXLVIII  und  Anm. 


THE 

FLEIRE. 


As  it  hath  beene  often  played  in  the 

Blacke-Fryers  by  the  Children  of 

the  Reuells. 

Written  by  Edward  Sharpham  of  the 
Middle  Temple,  Gentle 
man. 


AT  LONDON, 

Printed  and  are  to  be  solde  by  F.  B.  in  Paules-Church- 

yard,  at  the  signe  of  the  Flower  de  Luce  and  the 

Crowne.  1607. 


To    THE  READER 

and  Hearer. 


riendlie    perusers,   or    perusing 
friendes,   that    haue   bin    ouer- 
bold  with  some  of  vs,  giue  mee 
leaue  to  bee  a  little  bold  with 
you  :   I  haue  printed  a  Booke 
heere  to  make  you   laugh  and 
lie  downe  too,  if  you  please  : 
10  I  know  it  comes  not  like  a  Mous-trap  to  inueigle 
your  good  opinions,  nor  like  newes  of  great  Ar 
mies,  very  strange  and  vndreampt  of,  but  like  for 
feits  to  a  Vsurer  long  lookt  for.  If  you  finde  anie 
errors  by  me  comitted  correct  the  or  neglect  the. 
i5  The  Author  is  inuisible  to  me  (viz  :  ith'  Country) 
but  where  abouts  I  cannot  learne  ;  yet  I  feare  hee 
will  see  rnee  too  soone,  for  I  had  of  him  before 
his  departure  an  Epistle  or  Apological  praeamble 
(this  being  his  first  Minerua)  directed  vnto  you, 
20  which  should  haue  bin  in  this  Page  diuul'gd,  and 
(not  to  ieast  with  you  because  this  booke  plaies 
that  part  sufficiently)  I  haue  lost  it,  remembring 

A  3  none 


[4]  To  the  Reader. 

none  of  the  Gontentes.  And  therfore  (kinde  Rea 
ders)  I  doe  presume  thus  to  salute  you  ;  vse  these 
25  Gomicall  discourses  fauourablie  and  you  shall 
haue  some  from  the  Author  heereafter  more 
worthie  your  fauours  and  affections  :  through  a 
narrow  window  you  may  view  a  broad  Field  ;  so 

in  this  modicum  you  may  conceiue  his  great 

3o         desire  to  delight  you,  But  howsoever,  I 

know  this  volume  wil  be  sweet  in  the 

palates  of  your  minds,  though  your 

mouthes  may  flnde  it  bitter  in 

digestion,  and  so  I  commit 
35  your  eyes  to  the 

next  Page. 


The  Fleire. 

Act.  I. 

Enter  Signior  Anti front,  with  a  Lord. 


Lord.  T"^v  Eere  Lord,  I  know  it  well  becomes  not  mee 
Ito  counsell  him  that  best  can  counsell  mee  : 
5  yet  if  it  please  you  but  to  lend  your  eares,  & 

heare  my  loue  if  not  my  counsell. 

Sig.  No  more,  I  know  thy  loue  tends  to  the  stopping  of 
my  longing  and  my  resolution   :   thou   knowst  that   I   no 
longer  now  am  Signior  :  Florece  hath  got  an  other  gouer- 
10  nor,  and  one  step  backe  in  state  of  Maiestie,  is  a  greater  fall 
then  to  a  meaner  man  that  looseth  all  :  Besides,  thou  knowst 
our  Daughters  they  are  fled,  the  true  inheritors  of  Florence 
right,  and  mightie  Piso  now  vsurps  our  regall  feate  :  puis 
sant  in    power  and   mightie   in  his  wrong,   hath   mounted 
i5  Faulcon-like  into  the  sky  of  state,  feaz'd  on  our  feeblenes, 
and  beate  our  weakenes  downe.  And  therefore  now  I  am 
resolu'd  to  finde  my  two  lost  Children  out,  or  like  as  Phae 
ton  in  pride  did  ride,  so  I  in  grief  wil  pace  the  world  about. 
Lor.    Vnto   your   celsitude  I  wish,  till  their  effects  your 
20  hopes  may  neuer  faile.  Exit. 

Sig.    Farwell,   some  strange  disguise  I  needes  must  take 
both  for  my  stelth  away,  as  for  my  passage  on  the  way  :  and 
yet  my  fortunes  fall,  disguisement  is  to  great  if  pleasd  the 
heauens,  but  their  willes  still  are  lawes,  all  is  but  Justice  & 
25  our  sinnes  the  cause  :  cuor  forte  rompe  catiua  sortc.  Exit. 

B.  Enter 


[6]  The  fleite* 


Enter  Florida,  and  Felecia,  Daughters  to  Signior  Antifront, 

Madam  Fromaga  their  waiting  Gentlewoman,  and 

two  or  three  Seruingmen. 

Flo.  With  draw,  leaue  vs,  we  would  be  priuate  : 

3o  Sister  what  thinke  you  of  this  trade  of  ours  ?    Exeunt  all  but 
Fel.  Tis  base  to  be  a  whore.  the  two  Sisters. 

Flo.   Tis  base   to    abuse   great  place,    or  basenes   to   de- 
ceiue  great  trust. 
Fel.  And  is't  not  basenes  to  abuse  great  birth  ? 

35  Flo.  Yes  if  great  birth  abusde  not  vs  :  if  Piso  had  not 
prou'd  the  theife  and  rob'd  vs  of  our  right,  t'had  bin  worse 
then  theft  in  vs  to  rob  our  selues  of  honor  :  youle  say  wee 
are  forbid  to  line  by  sinne,  and  yet  wee  are  commaunded 
seeke  to  line  :  the  letter  law  expresse  forbids  to  kill,  and 

40  5-et  the  sence  permits  it  rather  then  be  kild  :  &  since  of  two 
extremities  the  least  is  to  be  chosen,  you  knowe  wee  haue 
no  other  meanes  to  Hue,  but  had  wee,  yet  wee  are 
faire  by  nature,  scorning  Art,  and  was  not  beauty  made 
to  bee  enioyed  ?  doe  wee  not  exclaime  on  those  who  haue 

45  aboundant  store  of  Coine,  and  yet  for  want  suffer  the  nee- 
die  perish  at  their  doore  ?  so  might  all  doe  on  vs.  hauing  so 
much  beautie,  if  we  should  suffer  men  for  loue  of  vs  to  die  ; 
shall  wee  in  whome  beautie  keepes  her  court  bee  curbd 
and  tide  to  one  mans  beneuolence  ?  no,  no,  not  I  :  rather 

5o  then  in  vertue  to  Hue  poore,  in  sinne  He  dye. 

Fele.  Your  resolutions  hath  confirmd  my  doubtes, 
and  since  tis  hatefull  to  Hue  poore,  to  maintaine  our 
state  I  am  content  :  but  these  obseruances  let  vs  keepe, 
strangelye  mongst  strangers  let  vs  holde  our  state,  and  let 

55  our    Seruants    sildome    knowe,     how    familiar    with    our 
friendes  wee   bee,  and  though   Englands  wealth  doe   now 
adorne  vs  ;  lets  keepe  the  fashion  still  of  Florence. 
Content,  let's  in,  who's  neere  ?  attend  vs,  ho  ! 

Enter 


The  Fleire.  [7] 

Enter  Fromaga,  and  Ladyes  Exeunt. 
60  To  her  enter  a  Gentleman. 

Gent.  This  is  the  strecte,  and  as  I  remember  this  is  the 
doore. 

He  aske  this  ancient  Gentlewoman  :  health  and  beautie 
dwell  with  you  Lady. 

65      Fro.  I  thanke  you  sir,  a  has  a  courtly  phrase  yfaith. 
Gent.  Doe  the  Florentine  Ladyes  dwell  heere? 
Fro.  Yes  forsooth  sir,  I  am  a  poore  Gentlewoman  that  fol- 
lowes  'am. 

Gent.  I  am  sent  to  'am  by  a  Knight,  who  promist  mee  he 
70  had  procurd  me  the  place  of  a  Gentleman  Vsher  to  them. 
Fro.  Sir  lohn  Haue-little  I  thinke. 
Gent.  Yes  indeed  the  same. 

Fro.  By  my  troth  hee's  an  honest  Knight,  a  has  no  fault 
but  that  hees  poore,  and  thats  a  small  fault  now  adaies  :  but 
75  let  mee  see  sir  I  pray,  were  you  neuer  a  Gentleman  Vsher 
before? 

Gent.  No  truely  neuer  yet. 
Fro.  Then  you  must  be  instructed  sir. 
Gent.  I  shall  be  glad  to  learne. 

80  Fro.  I  hope  you  and  I  shall  be  more  inward  sir,  and  for 
your  instruction  I  shall  bee  glad  to  lay  open  any  secrets 
that  I  haue  ;  therefore  first  you  must  obserue  :  ha  you  anye 
Tables  ? 

Gent.  Yes,  sure  I  neuer  go  without  Tables. 
85      Fro.  Plucke  out  your  pin  and  write  downe  as  I  shall  vt- 
ter  :  to  be  alwayes  ready,  standing  bare,  to  bee  ymployed, 
when,    where,   and   howsoeuer    your    Ladyes    please.    You 
must  neuer  bee  without  moneye  of  your  owno,  to  lay  out 
when  your  Ladyes  bid  you,  as  eighteen  pence  to  the  For 
go  ter,  halfe  a  Crowne  to  the  Coachman,  or  twelue  pence  for 
a  torch  if  their  Ladyships  come  home  late  at  night.  If  you 
be  sent  by  your  Lady  to  another  Lady,  to  know  what  rest 
she  tooke  ith'  night,  you  shall  deliuer  your  answere  iust  as 
it  came  from  the  Lady  :  you  must  alwayes  bee  in  a  cleane 
95  band,  and  cleane  cuffes,  how  fowle  so  ere  your  shirt  be. 

B  2  Gent.  I  will 


[8]  The  Fleire. 

Gent.  I  will  obserue  all  this. 

Fro.  You  may  by  vertue  of  your  office  were  a  Perewig, 
prouided,  it  be  iust  of  the  colour  of  your  beard  :  let  me  see, 
you   haue  a  hatch'd   sword   of  your  owne  there,  haue  yee 
100  not  ? 

Gent,  Yes  forsooth,  I  bought  it  for  his  Ladyships  seruice. 
Fro.  T'was  well  done,  you  may  weare  it  by  your  office, 
what,  is  your  Cloake  linde  through  ? 

Gent.  No,  but  tis  of  a  good  depth  in. 

io5      Fro.  Tis  well  done  too,  your  Ladies  loue  to  haue  it 
Linde  a  good  depth  in,  tis  for  their  credit. 
What,  are  these  sillier  hangers  of  your  owne  ?  (owne. 

Gent.  No,  I  borrow'd  these,  but  I  haue  a  payre  of  mine 
Fro.  They  are  in  trouble,  are  they  ? 
1 10      Gent.  No  tritely  they  are  at  mending. 

Fro.  Nay  though  they  be,  tis  no  shame,  you  haue  beene 
long  out  of  seruice  perchance. 
Gen.  Some  three  monthes. 

Fro.  Birlady  tis  a  long  time,  but  can  you  indure  to  walk 

u5  some  halfe  a  day  in  the  Hall  or  the  great  Chamber,  while 

some  great    Lord   is  busie   with  your    Lady    in    an    inner 

roome  ?  you  may  sleepe  an  houre  or  two  as  your  Cittizens 

wiues  doe  at  a  Sermon  to  passe  away  the  time,  but  you  must 

haue  a  care  to  wake  at  the  rushing  of  a  Satten  gown,  or 

1 20  the  creaking  of  a  doore,  that  if  your  Lady  come,  you  may 

be  presently  vp  and  bare. 

Gent.  Yes  sure,  I  could  doe  it  well. 

Enter  Florida. 

Fro.  You  must  stand  stiffe  vp,  and  holde  vp  your  head, 

ia5  tis   the  chiefest  thing  belongs  to  your  place,   looke  heere 

comes  the  elder  Lady  :  Madam  heeres  the  Gentleman  that 

Sir  lohn  Haue-little  commended  to  your   Ladyshippe   for  a 

Gentleman  Vsher. 

Ft.  Let  him  draw  neere  vs. 

i3o      Gent.  The  Knight  commends  his  deere  affection,  and  by 
me  makes  tender  of  his  humble  seruice  to  your  Ladyship. 
•  Fr.  Kisse  your  hand  and  goe  forward  vpon  her. 

Deliuers  a  Letter.  Ft.  We 


The  Fleire.  [g] 

Flo.  We  accept  it,  haue  red  it,  you  are  beholding  to  the 

1 35  knight,  and  he  hath  spared  no  paines  to  make  your  worthy 

partes  well  knowne  to  vs  :  draw  neere  us,  hence  foorth  we 

accept  you  as  our  owne,  and  so  wee  bid  you  welcome  :  are 

you  a  Gentleman  ? 

Gent.  Yes  sure  Madam,  for  I  was  both  borne  &  begotten 
140  in  an  Innes  Court. 

Fro.  Sure  Madam  then  hees  a  Gentleman,  for  he  thats  but 
admitted  to  the  house  is  a  Gent,  much  more  he  thats  be 
gotten  in  the  house. 

Flo.  You  are  the  more  welcome,  and   our  bounty  shall 
145  deserue  your  Industrie.  Exit.  Flo. 

Gent.  Is  the  Lady  a  Princesse  that  she  speakes  vs  and  we 
so  much  ? 

Fr.  No,  she  saies  so  meaning  her  selfe  and  her  Sister,  for 
they  are  both  one,  and  such  things  as  they  haue,  they  vse 
i5o  in  common,  and  must  stand  bare  before  them  both  :  looke 
heere  comes  the  tother  Lady. 

Enter  Felecia. 

Madam    heeres    the    Gentleman   that  Sir   lohn  Haue-little 
commended  to  your  Ladyshipp  for  a  Gentleman  Vsher. 
1 55      Fe.  We  like  him  &  hee's  welcome,  what  good  parts  haue 
you  ?  haue  you  the  tongues  ? 
Gent.  Not  very  well  Madam. 

Fr.  Yes  Madam,  a  has  the  Scottish  tongue  very  perfect 
ly,  &  a  has  some  skill  in  the  Irish  tongue  too. 
160      Fe:  Thats  a  wilde  speech. 

Fr.  Nay  ile  warrant  your  Ladyship  heele  not  run  away, 
has  traueld  Madam  too  a  sayes,  for  a  has  been  in  Wales. 
Fe.  Has  a  no  skill  in  the  French  tongue  ? 
Gent.  Some  little  skill  Madam. 

i65      Fr.  No  sure  Madam,  I  think  your  Ladyship  hath  more 
knowledge  of  the  French  then  he. 

Fe.  Well,  wee  will  at  more  leasure  suruey  your  good 
partes,  and  make  thereof  the  best  for  our  owne  vse.  Exit. 

Gent,  I  pra'y  what  wages  doe  these  Ladyes  giue  ? 
170      Fr.    Faith    your    wages    wil   be  much  about  the  nature 
of  your  office,  verye  bare  standing  wages  :  I  thinke  some 

B  3  fortie 


[lo]  The  Fleire. 

fortie  shillings  a  yeare. 

Gent    Why,    how    meane   they   I   shall   Hue  in  their  ser- 
uice  ? 

175  Fr.  Why,  by  their  countenance  :  I  ha  knowne  a  Lord  hath 
giuen  his  foole  nothing  but  his  countenance  to  line  by, 
and  I  can  tell  you,  t'as  proou'd  a  good  Court-mainte 
nance  too. 

Gent.  Countenance  ?  I  hope  1  haue  a  countenance  good 
180  inough  of  mine  owne,  I  neede  not  serue  for  one. 

Fr.  In  troth  and  so  a  has  for  a  Gentleman-vsher,  I  must 
needs  say  a  verie  harmelesse  silly  countenance. 
Gent.  Yet  faith  I  meane  to  trie  their  bountie. 
Fr.  Come  will  you  walke  in  sir  ?  He  follow  you. 
i85      Gent.  Verie  willingly. 

Fr.  This  is  braue  yfaith,  a  shall  go  bare  before  mee  too, 
a  will  serue  vs  all  three  when  wee  are  abroad. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Mistresse  Susan,  and 
190  Nan,  Sisters  : 

Su.  Come  sister,  come,  wee  were  not  borne  to  stand,  t'is 
against  the  nature  of  our  sexes  kinde  :  come,  sit,  and  tell  me, 
how  many  suters  you  haue,  and  which  you  most  doe  loue  ? 
and  I  will  tell  you  all  mine,  and  which  I  most  respect. 
195      Nan.  Faith  I  haue  a  dozen  at  the  least,  and  their  deserts 
are  all  so  good,  I  know  not  which  I  should  loue  most  :  and 
one  last  day  did  court  me  thus  :  O  had  my  tongue  the  influence 
to  lead  thy  fair e  thoughts  as  thy  fair e  lookes  do  mine  :  then  shouldst 
thou  be  his  prisoner  who  is  thine.  I  seeing  my  poore  Gentleman 
200  likely  to  be  drownd  in  the  depth  of  Hellespont,   deliuered 
him  this  verse  to  catch  hold  of  :  O  be  not  faire,  and  so  vnkinde  : 
misshapen  stuff  e,  is  of  behauiour  boystrous  and  rough. 
Sus.  But  come,  what  was  a  for  a  man  ? 
Nan.  What  was  a  for  a  man  ?  Why,  a  was  a  man  for  a  wo- 
2o5  man,  what  should  a  be  ?  and  yfaith  he  was  a  neate  lad  too, 
for  his  beard  was  newly  cut  bare  ;  jnarry  it  showed  some 
thing  like  a  Medow  newly  mowed  :  stubble,  stubble. 

Well 


The  Fleire.  fli] 

Su.  Well  I  haue  a  suter  too,  if  hee  had  as  much  witte  as 
liuing,   it    may    bee   I   should  finde  in   my  heart    to   loue 
210  him. 

Nan.  What,  i'st  Sir  lohn  Haut-little  that  gallant  Knight 
that  Courts  delicate  Ladies?  spare  not  the  sweate  of  my  bo- 
die,  man  was  made  to  labour,  vse  my  creation,  women  to 
bear,  ile  vse  yours  :  Birds  to  flye,  Fish  to  swimme,  &c.  And 
2i5  then  sweares  by  my  coscience  Lady,  I  esteem  you  as  I  doe 
money,  which  buyes  euerye  thing,  and  thats  but  like  a 
Puncke,  for  euery  man  has  to  doe  with  it. 

Su.  No  Sister  no,  tis  not  he,  for  I  thinke  his  wit  cannot 
cal  his  wealth  Maister,  nor  his  wealth  his  wit,  and  yet  they 
220  are  both  Seruants  to  a  foole. 

Nan.  Faith  who  is't  Sister,  i'st  a  proper  man  ?  hath  hee 
a  good  face  ? 

Su  :   Tis  the    person  and  conditions  I   respect,   and  not 

face,  for  euery  Boy  has  a  good  face,  and  its  not  worth  a 

225  hayre.  No  Sister  no,  my  loue  is  more  worthier  then  words 

canne    vtter    :    I    cannot    simpathize    his    rare    perfections 

with  any  earthye  substance  :  this  Globe  of  durt  produceth 

nothing   worthye   of  his   comparison  ;   so   soules   perfection 

so  refines  his  body,  as  you  would  thinke  an  Angell  were 

23o  his  sire  :  his  discourse,  behauiour,  and  humanitie,  attracts 

to  him  my  soules  felicitie. 

Nan.  Pray'  heauen  it  bee  not  mine  :  nay  come  who  is 
your  loue  ?  tell  me  ? 

Su  :  Nay  who  is  yours  ?  speake  first. 
235      Nan.  Yet  agen  ! 

Su  :  If  it  be  mine,  my  heart  will  breake  :  mine  is  Maister 
Nan  :  Who,  who,  who  ? 
Su  :  RufTell. 

Nan  :  Pray  God  't  be  true. 
240      Su  :  In  troth  tis  he. 

Nan  :  And  mine    is   Maister    Sparke,   and    looke    heere 
they  come. 

Enter 


[12]  The  Fleire. 

Enter  Spark,  Ruffell,  Piso,  Knight,  and  Petoune. 

Spar.  Faith  Ladyes,  youth  and  beauty  alwaies  bee  your 
246  handmaides. 

Ruff  :  Best  fortunes  your  attendants. 
Piso.  Good  clothes  your  companions. 
Ruff  :  Wee  all  of  vs  your  seruants. 
Pet.  And  let  Tobacco  be  your  perfumes. 

25o  Nan,  Lord  Gentlemen  how  your  wits  Caper !  me  thinkes 
twould  become  you  well  at  first  entrance,  your  discretions 
came  in  with  a  sober  measure. 

Sp.  Ladies  we  are  come  to  make  a  Gentleman  of  your  ac 
quaintance  heere. 

255      Nan.  His  name  good  Maister  Spark  ?  hee's  very  welcome. 
Spar,  His  name  is  Sig.  Petoune  a  Traueller  and  a  great  To- 
baconist. 

Pet :  Faith  Ladyes  I  take  it  now  and  then  fasting  for  the 
purification  of  my  wit. 

260  Sus  :  Purification  ?  why  has  your  wit  layne  in  child-bed 
sir? 

Ruff  :  Yes  indeede   Lady,  brought  to  bed   of  a   Moone- 
calfe. 

Pet :  Faith  Ladies  if  you  vsde  but  mornings  when  ye  rise, 
265  the  diuine  smoke  of  this  Celestiall  herbe,  it  will  more  puri- 
fie,  dense  and  mundifie  your  complexions,  by  ten  partes 
then  your  dissolued  Mercury,  your  iuice  of  Lemmons, 
your  distilled  snailes,  your  gourd  waters,  your  oyle  of  Tar 
tar,  or  a  thousand  such  toyes. 

270      Spa.  Sure  Ladies  I  must  needes  say  th'  instinct  of  this  herb 
hath  wrought  in  this  Gentleman  such  a  diuine  influence  of 
good  words,  excellet  discourse,  admirable  inuention,  inco- 
parable  wit  :  why  I  tel  yee,  when  he  talkes,  wisdom  stands 
a  mile  off  and  dares  not  come  neere  him,  for  feare  a  should 
275  shame  her  :  but  before  a  did  vse  this  Tabacco,  a  was  the  ar- 
rantst  Woodcock  that  euer  I  saw. 
Pet  :  Indeed  I  was  a  very  silly  fellow. 
Ruff.  Nay  you  were  an  arrant  asse. 
Pet.  Sure  I  was  a  foole. 

Kni  :  Nay 


The  Fleire.  [i3] 

280      Kni.  Nay,  you  were  a  most  monstrous  puppie. 
Pet  :  Indeed  I  was  an  Idiot,  a  verie  Idiot. 
Piso.   By    this    light   thou    wert    a    most  egregious    cox- 
combe. 

Pet.  Indeed  I  was,  indeed  I  was. 

285      Sp.  But  since,  it  hath  imbellisht  his  good  parts,  perfec 
ted  his  ill  partes,  and  made  his  secrete  actions  correspon 
dent  to  his  outward  wisdome,   as  you  may  well  perceiue. 
Pes.    Faith  Ladie  these  Gentlewomen  haue  not  long  v- 
sed  my  companie,  yet  you  see  how  Tobacco  hath  alreadie 
290  refined  their  spirits. 

Piso.   Petoune  I   wonder    Tobacco    hath  not  purifyed  the 
complexion  of  thy  nose  ? 
Pet.  Why,  what  ayles  my  nose  ? 

Piso.  Nay,  be  not  angrie,  I  do  not  touch  thy  nose,  to  th'  end 
2g5  a  should  take  any  thing  in  snuffe. 

Pet.  Why  doy'  play  so  about  my  nose  ? 
Kni.  T'is  a  good  turne  hees  no  Flie  signeur  :  if  a  were,  a 
would  burne  his  wings. 

Nan  :  O  signeur,  these  Gentlewomen  haue  not  long  vsed 
3oo  your    companie,   yet  you  see  how   Tobacco   hath  alreadie 
refined  their  spirits. 

Pet  Fayth   Ladie,   would  you  bestowe    but    one    fauour 
of  me. 

Nan.  Truly  signeur  if  you  should  haue  as  much  fauour 
3o5  as  you  haue  complexion,  you  would  bee  highly  fauoured. 
Pet.  Deare  Ladie,  now  by  this  day  I  loue  you. 
Nan.  Cheape  signeur,   nowe  by  the  light  of  this  day,   I 
cannot  loue  you. 

Sp.  Now  Ladie,  what  drugs  of  wit  has  this  Apothecarie 
3io  of  Tobacco  sold  you  ? 

Nan.  Faith  a  solde  me  none  sir,  onely  a  gaue  me  a  taste  of 
his  good  meaning. 

Pet.  Faith  Ladie  I  must  enquire  your  name. 
Sus  :  I  pra'y  doe  sir,  yond  Gentlewoman  knowes  it. 
3i5      Pet.  O,  I  know  tit  well  inough. 

Svs.  Why  doe  you  enquire  it  then  ? 

Pet.  Come,  come,  Ladie  can  you  loue  ?    SMS.  I. 

C.  Pet  ;  And 


[14]  The  Fleire. 

Pet.  And  can  you  loue  me  ?        Sus  :  No. 
Pet.  Euerie  foole  can  say  I,  and  no, 
3aq      Sus  :  And  I  alwayes  answere  euerie  foole  so. 
Pet.  Doy'  thinke  I  want  wit  ? 

Sus.  If  you  do,  t'is  a  shame  you  doe  not.  learne  it. 
Pet  :  Will  you  teach  me  ?  He  come  to  you  to  schoole. 
Sus.  T'is  not  my  profession  sir,  to  teach  a  foole. 
3a5      Sp  :  Looke,  looke,  this  fellow  is  like  your  vpright  shoo, 
he  will  serue  either  foote. 

Pet.  Good  Ladie,  haue  a  better  regarde  of  mee,  doe  but 
thinke  me  made  of  the  same  mettall  other  men  are. 

Sus  :    If  others  were  of  the   same   mettall   you    are,   and 
33o  all   mine,    I    shoulde    quickelie    sell  them   to  the    Bel-ma 
kers. 

Pet.  Why,  what  mettall  doe  you  thinke  me  ? 
Sus  :  Copper  sir,  copper,  for  I  take  your  bodie  to  be  of 
the  same  mettall  your  nose  is. 
335      Pet.  Deare  Ladie,  now  by  this  day  I  loue  you. 

Sp  :  Why,  how  now  signeur,  what  sayes  the  Ladie  will 
she  loue  thee  man  ? 

Pet ;  Faith  I  can  get  but  a  colde  comfort  of  her  : 
.  Sp  :  Well  thanke  her  for  't  :        Pet ;  For  what  ? 
340      Sp,  Why,  for  her  cold  comfort,  shee  gaue  it  thee  to  coole 
the  heate  of  thy  nose  man  ? 

Sus  :  Signeur,  you  see  these  Gentlewomen  haue  not  long 
vsed  your  companie  ;  yet  you  see  how  Tobacco  hath  al- 
readie  refined  their  spirits  : 

345      JRuf ;  Why,  how  now  signeur  ?  at  blind-man-buffe  ?  bob'd 
on  either  side  ? 

Pet :  Prethe  peace  :  deare  Ladie,  please  you  take  a  pipe 
of  Tobacco  ? 

Ruf :  I,  come  :  He  beginne  to  her  (tab}  why,  what  a  rogue 
35o  art  thou  to  offer  a  faire  Ladie  an  emptie  pipe  ? 

Sus.  Why  signeur  ?  do  you  make  a  foole  of  me  ? 
Piso  :  Had  you   no  body  signeur  to  haue  bob'd  with  an 
emptie  Pipe  but  her  ? 

Nan.  Why  howe  now  signeur,  could  you   finde  neuer  a 
355  fitter  block  to  whet  your  wit  on,  but  my  sister  ? 

Sp.  By 


The  Fleire.  [i5] 

Sp.  By  the  diuine  smoke  of  Tobacco  signeur,  you  haue 
sham'd  vs  all. 

Pet :  Sweare  not  good  sir,  sweare  not,  prophane  not  the 
Indian  plant. 

36o      Kni,    Had    you    no    bodie   else   signeur,    to   breake   an 
emptie  ieast  on  but  this  Ladie  ? 

Sus.  No,  no,  a  thinks  any  thing  is  good  ynough  for  me. 
Pet.  Sir,  would  you  make  my  Ladie  and  me  friends  ? 
Spar.  Xay  signeur,  I  haue  no  face  to  speake,   now  you 
365  haue  abusde  her  in  your  owne  Element  :  if  it  had  beene 
in  any  thing  but  Tobacco,   I   would  haue   done  my  best. 
Ruff  :  Harke  you  sig.  you  were  best  to  aske  her  forgiue- 
nes  on  your  knees,  ther's  no  way  to  get  her  friendship  else. 
Pet :  But  wil  she  forgiue  me  thinke  you  if  I  aske  her  mer- 
3yo  cie  on  my  knees  ? 

Sp.  Why,  proue  signeur,  you  can  but  trie,  weele  al  speake 
for  you. 

Ruff  :  Good  Lady  will  you  forgiue  this  signeur  ?  you  see 
his  penitent,  griefe  hath  brought  him  verie  low,  for  hees 
3y5  on's  knees  ;  besides  he  weepes  ;  speake  signeur  speake  for 
your  selfe. 

Pet.  Ladie,  I  must  confesse  I  haue  offred  you  an  emptie 
pipe,  which  me  thinks  hath  smal  reason  to  be  take  in  snuff. 

Sp  :  And  you  are  sorie  for  't  signeur,  are  you  not  ? 
38o      Pet.  I  with  all  my  heart. 

Sp  :  Forgiue  him  good  Ladie,  pra'y  forgiue  him,  • 
Su.  I  am  content  Gent,  at  your  intreaties  vpo  conditions. 
Pet  Vpon  any  conditions. 
Su  :  But  you  shall  be  sworne  to  them. 
385      Pet.  Nost  willingly.- 

Ruff  :  Come,  a  shall  be  sworne  on's  owne  Tobacco  pipe. 
Piso  :  Looke  you  signeur,  he  told  you  there  was  no  way  to 
get  her  good  will  but  by  kneeling ;  for  he  that  will  haue  a 
womans  loue  must  stoope. 

3go      Sus  :  Come  maister  Ruff  :  you  shall  take  his  oath,  and  He 
minister't.  Ruff  :  Come  signeur,  put  your  hand  to  the  pipe. 
Sus  :  First  you  shall  neuer  while  you  liue  offer  Ladie  or 
Gentlewoman  an  emptie  pipe.        Pet.  Neuer. 

C  2  Su  :  Second 


[16]  The  Fleire. 

Su.    Secondly,    you    shall  neuer  make   Tobacco  your   I- 
3g5  doll,  taking  it  in  a  morning  before  you  say  your  prayers. 
Pet  :  Neuer. 

Su  :  Thirdly,  you  shall  neuer  in  the  praise  of  Tobacco 

disclose   or  dispraise  by  the  way  of  making  comparisons, 

the  secrets  of  Ladies,  or  Gentlewomen,  as  repeating  their 

400  distil'd  waters,  their  censing  oyles,  or  their  smoothing  vn- 

guents. 

Sp  :  To  this  you  sweare. 
Pet.  Most  willingly. 

Su.    Fourthly,   you  shall    neuer  come  with  your  squibs 
4o5  &  smoke-squirts  amongst   Ladies  and    Gentlewome,    fling 
ing  out  fume  at  your  Nostrels,  as  a  whale  doth  salt-water, 
vnlesse  you  be  intreated  by  them. 
Pet.  Neuer. 

Su.  Fiftly,  you  shall  presently  conuey  your  selfe  out  of 
410  our  company,  neuer  to  come  more  rieere  vs,  vnlesse  you  be 
sent  for. 
Pet.  Neuer? 

Su.  No  neuer  :  so,  let  him  kisse  the  pipe. 
Sp  :  Come  Signior,  you  haue  kneeld  to  a  faire  end,  to  get 
4i5  you  a  Mistris,  and  heere  you  haue  forsworne  her. 
Pet.  I'me  in  a  faire  case  now. 
Pis.  Ifaith  now  thar't  a  combe  for  any  case. 
Pet.  Well,  ile  keepe  my  oath,  farewell. Gentlemen. 
•P/5.  Farwell  Signior. 
420      Sp  :  Adew  Signior. 

Kni  :  God  bewe  Signior. 
Pet  :  Well,  some  shall  smoke  for  this. 
Ruff  :  Let  it  be  your  nose  then  good  Signior  in  any  case  : 

Exit. 
425  Entey  Signior  Antifront  disguised,  called  Fleire. 

Its  a  good  soile,  a  wholesome  ayre,  a  pretty  Towne,  hand 
some  sleight  buildings,  well  proportioned  people,  verie 
faire  women. 

Spa.  Hayda,  this  is  like  a  Lawyers  studdie  in  the  latter  end 
480  of  a   Terme,   one's  no   sooner  thrung'd   out,   but  another's 
thrust  in,  y'are  welcome  sir, 

Fie.  But 


The  Fleire.  [17] 

Fie.  But  I  am  not  sir,  for  I  am  sicke. 

Ruff  :  Would  you  speake  with  any  man  heere  ? 

Fl :  I  care  not  greatlie  sir,  if  I  spoke  with  euery  man  here. 
435      Nan.  Hee's  a  mad  fellowe. 

Sp  ;  What  art  ? 

Fie.  Poore. 

Ruff  :  Dost  meane  to  Hue  in  this  towne  ? 

Fie  :  Ide  be  loth  to  die  in  't. 
440      Kni  :  In  what  countrie  wert  borne  ? 

Fie  :  In  none. 

Kni  :  Where  then  ? 

Fie  ;  In  a  Towne. 

Kni  :  What  nation  art  ? 
445      Flei  :  An  Italian  : 

Kni  :  O  then  thou  canst  make  glasses. 

Fie  :  I,  and  as  wisemen  as  you  Asses  too,  O  are  you  there 
Piso  ?  your  father  is  my  good  Lord,  but  no  more  of  that  yet. 

Sp.  Why  Signior,  I  hope  you  wonnot  swagger  ? 
45o      Fie  :  No,  nor  I  care  not  greatlie  for  them  that  doe,  for 
your  swaggerer  is  but  like  your  walking  spur,   a  gingles 
much  but  heele  neu'r  pricke. 

Kni  :  Why  art  so  melancholic  ? 

Su.  He  hold  my  life  hee  is  in  loue  with  some  waiting 
455  Gentlewoman. 

Fie  :  Hee's  a  mad  fellowe  wil  loue  anie  of  you  all,  lon 
ger  then  a  pissing  while. 


Pis 
Fl 

460  Pis 
Fie 
Pis 
Fie 
Sp 

465      Fie 


Why  camst  thou  out  of  Italy  into  England  ? 
Because  England  would  not  come  into  Italy  to  me. 
Why  art  sad  ? 
Because  I  haue  cause. 
Who  doost  follow  ? 
My  nose. 

Who  doost  serue  ? 
God. 


Ruff  :  Who  art  towards  ? 
Fie  :  He  thats  before  me. 
Sp  :  What  doost  want  ? 
Fie  :  Money. 

C  3  Sp  :  Nothing 


[18]  The  Fleire. 

470      Sp.  Nothing  else  ? 
Fie.  Yes. 
Sp,  What? 

Flei.  A  good  seruice.    Sp.  Shall  I  preferre  thee  ? 
Flei.  I  cannot  tell,  tis  as  I  like  the  man. 

475      Sp.  Nai  't  shall  be  to  a  couple  of  Gentlewomen  of  thine 
owne  Countrie. 

Fl.  I  shall  haue  enough  to  doe  then  I  hope,  I  haue  heard 
of  one  woman  hath  seru'd  ten  men,  but  I  neuer  heard  that 
one  man  should  bee  preferred  to  serue  two  woman  before  : 
480  y  'are  an  Englishman.     Sp.  I. 

Fl.  So  I  thought  indeede,  you  cannot  poyson  so  well  as 
we    Italians,    but    youle    finde  a   meanes  to   bring  a  man 
out  of  his  life  as  soone.  Gods  light  serue  two  women  quoth  you? 
Sp.  Why  thou  shalt  serue  but  one,  yet  take  thy  choice  of 
485  both.   Fl,   I  marry  Sir,   I  like  when  't  comes  to  choosing. 
Sp.  Whats  thy  name  ? 
Fie.  Fleire. 

Sp  :  Whats  thy  profession  ? 
Fie  :  I  haue  euer  been  a  Courtier. 

490      Sp  :  A  Courtier!  come  Gentleman,  I  like  this  fellowe  so 
well  that  ile  prefer  him  straite. 
Nan.  Do  so,  you  shall  doe  a  deed  of  charitie  in't. 
Sp.  Faire  Ladies  youle  excuse  vs.  Exeunt. 

Su.  You  haue  bin  very  welcome  Gentleme.  Manent  Su,  Naw 
4g5      Na  :  Come  sister,  there  rests  nothing  for  vs  now  but  this  : 
wele  get  vs  mens  apparrel,  and  serue  them  as  Pages  so  shal 
we  hinder  them  in  their  marriages,  and  in  th'  end  preferre 
our  selues  to  be  their  wiues. 

Su,  I  like  it  well,  come  lets  about  it  presently.      Exeunt. 
5oo  Finis  Actus  Primi. 

Actus  secundus. 

Enter  Fleire,  Solus  in  a  new  Suite. 

Fl.  I  haue  not  yet  bin  seauen  daies  heere,  and  yet  I  see 

that  grieues  my  verye  soule  :  my  Daughters,   my   Ladies 

5  I  must  say  now,  make  lust,  labour  for  their  maintenance  & 

this  foolish  natio  will  sel  their  goods,  their  lands,  nay  their 

very   soules   for   nights  delights    and    momentarie  sportes, 

which 


The  Fleire.  [ig] 

which   like  to  lightning  appeares,   and   vanisheth   ere   one 
can  say  tis  come  :  but  then  repentance  sticks  close.  There 

10  was  a  fellow  with  one  of  my  Ladies  this  morning,  and  the 
poore  slaue  has  but  seauen  shillings  a  weeke  boord  wages, 
and  yet  he  has  giuen  sixe  on't  for  a  bit  of  extraordinarye 
flesh,  well  :  God  giue  him  the  grace  to  pray,  for  a  must  fast. 
I  askd  the  hot  slaue  why  a  did  not  marrie  since  a  could  not 

i5  bridle  his  lust  ?  and  a  tolde  me  a  had  rather  fal  into  the  Sur- 
gions  mercy,  then  the  worldes  beggery ;  well,  I  see  it  can 
not  be  denide,  mercinarie  women  are  necessarie  members  : 
they  plucke  downe  the  pride  of  the  flesh,  yet  are  not  proud 
themselues,  for  thei'le  be  as  familiar  with  the  men  as  with 

20  the  Master  :  they  doe  as  many  good  deedes  as  some  Fryers 
that  puts  one  to  pennance  for  his  sinnes,  they  put  twentie 
to  paines  :  he  out  of  charitie  sends  one  to  the  Hospital  once 
a  yeare,  they  send  twentie  to  the  Surgions  once  a  month. 
Say  he  bids  men  repent,  they  make  a'm  repent,  yet  for  all 

25  this  some  wil  call  a'm  damn'd  Puncks  :  well,  if  they  bee 
damn'd,  theile  not  be  damn'd  gratis  like  your  yong  coutrie 
Gentlemen,  nor  in  hugger  mugger  like  your  Cittizens 
wife  with  her  Prentise.  They  can  practise  without  an  o- 
uerseer  :  they  scorne  to  haue  a  Suburbian  Baw'd  lend  am  a 

3o  Taffaty  gown,  &  they  (like  your  common  Players)  let  men 
come  in  for  two  pence  a  peece,  and  yet  themselues  to  haue 
but  the  tenth  penny,  like  the  tenth  Pigge,  yet  faith 
the  trade  is  a  good  trade  :  They  forsweare  not  themselues, 
in  commendation  of  their  wares,  as  your  common  Trades- 

35  men  doe,  swearing  they  cannot  afford  it  at  the  price.  They 
are  no  prouerb  breakers  :  beware  the  buyer  say  they,  you 
shall  haue  enough  for  your  money,  if  halfe  will  not  serue 
your  turne  take  the  whole,  measure  by  your  own  yard,  you 
shal  haue  Winchester  measure.  I  was  somewhat  bold  with 

40  one  of  their  Ladiships  this  morning,  &  askt  her  why  wo 
men  went  to  the  generating  sport  al  the  yere,  since  beastes 
themselues  went  too  't  but  once  ?  And  she  answered  me,  be 
cause  they  were  women  &  had  reason  to  know  what  was 
good  for  themselues,  and  so  had  not  beasts  :  but  soft,  here 
comes  Sign i or  Petoune. 

Enter 


[20]  The  Fleire. 

Enter  Petoune  taking  Tabacco. 
Pet.  O  Fleire,  how  doost  Fleire  ? 

Fie.  O   Signior,  you   may   snuffle    out   your   smoke   here 
Signior,  and  saue  your  oath  too,  here  are  no  Cuckold  ma- 
5o  kers.    Pet  What  are  they  Fleirel 

Fl.  Women  Signior,  women  :  I  heard  what  a  rash  Gen 
tleman  you  are  to  forsweare  your  Mistris  companie  in  the 
verie  heat  of  your  affection. 

Pet  :  Hang  her,  hang  her,  shees  a  very  crickee,  shee  hath 
55  written  for  me  three  or  foure  times,  but  ile  see  her  damn'd 
ere  ile  come  to  her,  woot  take  anie  Tobacco  Fleire  ? 

Fie.  No,  not  I  ;  ile  not  make  my  nose  a  red  Herring,  ile 
not  hang  him  ith'  smoke. 

Pet  :  Thou  art  a  good  Courtier  Fleire,   tha'st  got  a  sute 
60  alreadie. 

Fl,  Nay,  I  haue  two  or  three  offices  too. 
Pet  :  Prithe  what  are  they  ? 

Fl :  Why  I  am  Yeaman  ath'  Jurden,  Gentleman  ath'  smock 
and  Squire  of  entertaynment  :  for  when  your  Gallants  ap- 
65  proch,  I  take  their  incombe,  for  if  I  stay  till  their  out  come, 
the  deuill  a  bit  of  any  siluer  sir  can  I  get  :  for  your  new 
made  Gallants  lay  all  on  the  backe  and  spend  all  ath  belly. 
Pet.  How  doe  thy  two  Ladies  liue  Fleire  ? 
Fl  :  Like  two  musk-cats  in  a  Coope. 
70      Pet  :  Why  ?  I  heere  say  they  Hue  gallantly. 

Fl,  Pheu,  they  ?  why  they  keepe  a  little  court. 
Pet  :  And  what  art  thou  ?  a  Sumner  ? 
Fl.  A  Sumner,  why? 

Pet  :  Because  thou  art  one  of  the  ;  harke  in  thine  eare. 
75  Fl  :  Well  said  Caulfe,  hast  bin  a  sucking  all  this  while  for 
that  iest?  no,  I  haue  an  honorable  place,  I  am  one  of  their 
leaders,  for  their  shooes  are  so  hie,  and  their  heeles  so  short 
if  they  should  not  be  led,  thei'd  play  domesticke  trickes  a- 
broad,  and  show  all. 

80      Pet.  Thou  their  leader  !   why  doe  they  meane  to   goe  to 
the  warres  ? 

Fl,  I 


T he  Fleire. 

Fl :  I  thinke  so,  for  I  am  sure  here  were  a  couple  of  gen 
tlemen  last  night  that  scow'rd  their  peeces. 

Pet  :  I  thinke  Fleir  thy  Ladies  are  not  wee  rich. 
85      Fie  :  How  can  they  ?  they  spend  when  others  get. 

Pet.  Dost  heare  Fleir  ?  woot  prefer  me  to  their  seruice  ? 

Fie.  What !  shall  wee  embrace  ?  shall  we  haue  red-nos'd 

Corporals  here  :  what  you  rogue?  will  you  turnc  Sumncr? 

away  you  whale-nosd  rogue  away,  goe,  snufle,  snufle  in  the 

90  Ocean,  away  you  slaue. 

Pet,  Is  thy  name  Fleir?  tha'rt  a  flattering,  fleering,   cog 
ging  knaue.  Exit. 

Enter  two  Ladies,  one  singing  : 

Pel.        His  mans  red  hose,  were  the  colour  of  his  nose, 
g5  and  his  breech  was  made  of  blue, 

And  he  in  shape,  but  a  French-mans  Ape, 

And  so  sweete  sir  adieu. 
«  Holla,  holla  ye  pampred  lades  of  Asia, 
«  And  can  you  draw  but  twentie  miles  a  day  ? 
100      Flo.  Giue  me  a  bowe,  He  hit  the  Sunne. 

Fel,  Why  ti's  impossible. 
•    Flo,  No  more  canst  thou  hit  true  felicitie. 

Fel,  O  I  am  in  an  excellent  humor,  now  I  could  laugh, 
daunce,   leape,   or  doe  anie  light  tricks  that  belongs  to  a 
io5  light  wench. 

Flo ;  But  looke  who's  here  ? 

Fel,  O  signeur  Fleir,  how  dost,  how  dost  man  ?  we  may  bee 
merrie  before  thee,  thoul't  be  secret,  wo't  not  ? 

Flo  :  As  vour  Midwife,  or  Barber  Surgeon  Madam  ; 
no      Fel  :  How  lik'st  the  Citie  Fleir t  ha,  how  lik'st  it? 

Flo,  Faith  wel  Madam,  were  not  your  Citizens,  such  hea- 
uie  head  fellowes  : 

Fel,  Thats  a  signe  they  are  no  drunkards. 
Fie.    Indeede     Madam,    drinke    lightens    the    head,    the 
u5  heart,  the  heeles,  the  pot,  the  purse  ;   but   it  makes  heauie 
chamberpots,  full  bowels,  and  foule  roomes  :  enough. 

D  Fel  :  How 


[22]  The  Pleire. 

Pel    :    Howe    dost    like    the    Gentlemen    of   this    Coun- 
trey  ? 
Fie  :  I    can   compare   your    Gentleman,    and   your    Mar- 

120  chant,  to  nothing  so  fitly  as  your  Flea  and  your  Lowse  :  I 
had  rather  trust  your  lowse  with  a  hundred  pound,  then 
your  Flea  with  fortie;  for  your  Lowse,  like  the  Marchant, 
standes  too't,  you  shall  knowe  where  to  finde  him,  but 
your  Flea,  like  the  Gentleman,  if  you  take  him  not  at  first 

125  sight,  a  slips  from  you. 

Flo  :  Me  thinks  they  haue  a  strange  fashion  heere,  they 
take    money   with   their   wiues,    and   giue    money  to    their 
wenches. 
Fie   :  And  good  reason  too   (Madam)  woulde  you  haue 

i3o  a  man  bee  troubled  .with  a  wife,  as  long  as  he  Hues  for 
nothing  ?  A  glues  money  to  this  wench,  to  be  as  soone  rid  of 
her  as  he  has  done  with  her. 

Fel  :  Whats  the  reason  Fleir,  the  Cittizens  wiues  weare 
all  Corks  in  their  shooes  ? 

1 35  Fie  :  O  Madam,  to  keepe  the  custome  of  the  Cittie,  one- 
ly  to  bee  light  heeld.  The  Cittie  is  like  a  Commodie, 
bodi  in  partes  and  in  apparell,  and  your  Gallants  are  the 
Actors  :  for  hee  that  yesterday  played  the  Gentleman, 
nowe  pla)res  the  Begger ;  shee  that  played  the  Way- 

140  ting-woman,  nowe  playes  the  Queane ;  hee  that  played 
the  married-man,  nowe  playes  the  Cuckolde ;  and 
shee  that  played  the  Ladie,  nowe  playes  the  Painter. 
Then  for  their  apparell,  they  haue  change  'too  :  for  shee 
that  wore  the  Petticote,  now  weares  the  Breech  ;  hee  that 

145  wore  the  Coxcombe,  now  weares  the  feather  ;  the  Gentle 
man  that  wore  the  long  Sworde,  nowe  weares  the  short 
Hanger ;  and  hee  that  could  scarce  get  Veluet  for  his 
Cape,  has  nowe  linde  his  Cloake  throughout  with 
it. 

i5o      Flo  :  But  how  dost  like  the  Court  Fleir  P 

Fie  :  Well  ynough,  if  they  did  not  catch  their  meate  so ;  it 
comes  no  sooner  from  Table,  but  tone  fellow  has  a  fatte 
Ducke  by  the  rumpe,  thother  a  slipperie  Ele  by  the  taile, 
and  an  olde  Courtier  that  best  knew  the  tricks  on't,  was 

mumb- 


The  Fleire.  [23J 

i55  mumbling  of  a  Cunnie  in  a  corner  alone  by  him- 
selfe. 

Pel.  What  good  cheere  didst  see  there  ? 
Fie,  Faith  there  was  much   good  meate,  but  me  thought 
your  faire  Ladie  was  your  onely  dish. 

160  Flo.  I,  but  thats  a  costly  dish,  and  will  aske  rich  saw- 
cing. 

Fie.  Faith  for  mine  owne  part  when  I  had  a  stomacke,  I 
shoulde  like  it  best  in  it  owne  naked  kinde,  without  anie 
sauce  at  all. 
i65      Flo.  Whats  the  newes  now  at  Court  Fleir  ? 

Fie.  Faith  they  say  your   Ladyes  cannot  endure  the  old 

fashion  Spurre,  they  say  it  hanges  to  a  mans  heele  like  a 

Wheele-barrow,     but    they    loue    the    fine    little     Scottes 

Spurre,    it   makes   the    Court    Gennet    curuet,    curuet    gal- 

170  lantly. 

Flo  :  I  prethe  Fleir,  howe  goes  the  report  of  vs  two  a- 
broad  ? 

Fie.  If  I  should  tell  you,  I  feare  your  Ladiships  woulde 
be  angrie. 
175      Flo.  No  not  awhit. 

Fie,  But  alas  they  are  your  common  people,  they  are 
like  your  Slippers,  they  are  alwayes  gaping,  their  mouthes 
are  neuer  shut. 

Flo,  But  what  say  they  of  vs  ? 

180      Fie,  Alas   Madam,  their  tongues  are  like  your  drie  lea 
ther  shooes,  alwayes  creaking  : 
Flo,  But  I  prethe  tell  vs  what  doe  they  say  of  vs  ? 
Fie  :  I  shall  offend  your  Ladyships. 
Flo,  I  tell  thee  no. 

i85  Fie,  But  alas  Madam,  I  doe  not  beleeue  them,  because 
I  knowe  the  conditions  of  the  slaues  ;  whie  He  tell  you, 
their  tongues  are  like  the  lacke  of  a  Clocke,  still  in  la 
bour. 

Flo.  I  thinke  tha'rt  madde,  I  prethee  tell   vs  what  they 
190  say. 

Fie.  I  would  be  loath  to  displease  you. 
Flo,  I  tell  thee  thou  shalt  not. 

D2  Fie.  Faith 


[24]  The  Fleire. 

Fie.  Faith  they  say  your  Ladiships  are  a  couple  of  state 
ly  Curtizans. 

ig5      Flo.  Faith  that  was  not  muph  amisse,  said  they  no  worse  ? 
Flei,  You'l  not  be  angry  with  me. 
Flo,  No  a'my  word. 

Fie.  By  my  troth  they  said  statety  whores. 
Flo,  What  pagan  rogues  be  these?  were  they  but  roasted 
200  Larkes  for   my   sake,    I   would   crush  am    bones    and    all. 
Feli  Why  ?  are  you  so  angry  sister  ?  you  know  they  speak 
truth. 

Flo.  Why  are  wee  whores? 
Pel,  What  are  we  else  ? 
2o5      Flo.  Why  we  are  Curtizans. 

Pel.  And  what  difference  pra'y  ? 

Flei.  O  great  great  madam,  your  whore  is  for  euery  ras- 
call  but  your  Curtizan  is  for  your  Courtier. 
Flo,  He  has  giuen  you  a  difference  now. 

210  Flei,  And  indeed  Mada  I  said  so,  for  in  truth  I  was  very 
agry  with  'am,  but  they  said  you  were  for  euery  seruingma 
too.  Flo,  Did  they  say  so  ?  (now. 

Flei,  Yes  indeede   Madam,    I   hope   I  haue   touch'd   you 
Flo,  He  hold  my  life  this  slaue  the  Seruingman,  that  was 
21 5  with  me  this  morning,  has  brag'd  of  my  kindenes  to  him. 
Flei,  Nay,  thats  likelie,  neuer  trust  a  fellow  that  wil  flat 
ter,  fleire  and  fawne  for  foure  nobles  a  yeare. 

Flo,  Well,   ile  nere  haue  Seruingman  touch  anie  linnin 
of  mine  agen. 

a3o  Flei,  Yes  Madam,  a  may  touch't  when  tis  at  the  Laun 
dresses. 

Flo,  I,  at  my  Laundresses,  or  else  not  :  but  what  a  rascal's 
this  ?  by  this  light,  ile  neuer  suffer  seruingman  come  neere 
me  agen. 
225      Flei,  Yes  Madame,  to  deliuer  you  a  letter  or  so. 

Fl.  By  this  hand,  not  vnlesse  the  Rogue  kisse  his  hand  first. 

Flei,  O  Madam  !   why  ?  since   blew  coates  were   left  oft, 

the  kissing  of  the  hand  is  the  seruingmans  badge,  you  shall 

know  him  by't  :  but  Madam,  I  speake  something  boldly  of 

23o  you  now  and  then,  when  I  am  out  of  your  hearing,  to  heare 

what 


The  Fleire.  [25] 

what  the  world  wil  say  of  you,  for  you  know  thats  the  way 
to  pumpe  filthie  wordes  out  of  their  mouthes,  if  there  bee 
anie  in  them. 

Ffl.  And  doe  so  still,  wee  allow  thee  to  say  anie  thing, 
235  for  thereby  we  shall  know  our  friendes  from  our  foes. 

Flei,  I  assure  your  Ladiships,  I  loue  you,  and  am  sonie 
for  you  from  my  soule,  although  you  know  it  not. 
Flo,  Wee  doubt  it  not. 
Ffl.  Come  sister  will  you  in  ? 

240  Flo,  I  prithee  Fleire  informe  vs  how  the  tide  of  opinion 
runs  on  vs,  least  we  be  drown'd  in  the  slaunderous  imagi 
nations  of  the  world. 

Flei,  I  shall  be  very  vigilant  of  your  reputations. 
Amb,     Be  so.  Exeunt  Sisters. 

245  Enter  Ruffell. 

Flei,  Who   comes  heere    a    Gods-name  ?   O,  my   gallant 
ruffles  it  out  in  silke,  where  haue  you  bin  all  this  while  ? 
Ruff,  Faith  at  Court  Fleire,  when  wert  thou  there  ? 
Fl,  Faith  but  yesterday,  where  I  saw  a  Farmers  Son  sit 
25o  newly  made  a  courtier,  that  sat  in  the  presence  at  cardes,  as 
familiar  as  if  the  chayre  of  state  had  bin  made  of  a  peece  of 
his  fathers  Barne-doore  :  O  tis  a  shame  :  I  would  haue  state 
be  state  in  earnest  and  in  game,  I  like  your  Courtier  for  no 
thing  but  often  saying  his  praiers. 

255      Ruff,    What,  .1   thinke  thou    seldome    saist    thy  prayers, 
since  thou  hast  almost  forgot  thy  Pater-noster. 
Flei,  Faith  I  pray  once  a  weeke,  doost  thou  pray  oftner  ? 
Ruff,  I  did  pray  oftner  when  I  was  an  Englishman,  but  I 
haue  not  praid  often,  I  must  confesse  since  I  was  a  Brittaine  : 
260  but  doost  heare  Fleire?  canst  tell  me  if  an  Englishman  were 
in  debt,  whether  a  Brittaine  must  pay  it  or  no  ? 
Flei,  No,  questionlesse  no. 

Ruff,  I'me  glad  of  that,   I  hope  some  honest  statute  will 
come  shortlie,  and  wipe  out  all  my  scores. 
265      Fl,  But  whats  the  newes  now  abroad  Maister  Ruffell? 

Ruff,  Why  they  say  the  Courtiers  shall  make   the  Citti- 
zens  no  more  Cuckolds. 

C3  Fie,  Excellent 


[26]  The  Pleire. 

Fl.    Excellent   newes   yfaith,    excellent   newes,    then   the 
Court  will  grow  rich. 
270      Ruff,  Rich  ?  Why  man  why  ? 

Fl,  Why  then  your  Courtier  will  not  bestow  his  mo- 
ny  in  buying  the  Merchants  idle  commodities  to  ly  with 
his  wife.  (turn'd  man. 

Ruff,  Fleire  I  did  but  to  trie  thee,  the  tide  of  the  floud  is 
275      Fl,  Then  let  them  sweat  for't. 
Ruff,  For  what  ? 

Fl,  If  they  striue  against  the  streame.  (courtiers 

Ruff.    No,    but    I  meane   the  Cittizens  must  cuckold  the 
Fl,    Excellent   newes   yfaith,    excellent   newes,    then  the 
280  court  will  grow  rich. 

Ruff,  What,  like  your  weauers  shuttle  ?  make  cloath 
forward  and  backward,  but  how  I  prithe  ?  but  harke  you 
Fleire,  are  you  capable  of  a  secret? 

Fl,   As  your  common  Cockatrice,   that  receiues   the   se- 
285  crets  of  euery  man. 

Ruff  :  Then  I  must  intreat,  I  may  trust  thee. 
Fl,  That's  because  I  am  no  Taylor,  for  if  I  were,  thou 
wouldest  intreate  me  to  trust  thee. 

Ruff,  Sirra,  they  say  your   Ladies   are   a  couple   of  com- 
290  mon    Punckes,    I   hope    I    may    trust   you    with  a  secret? 
Fl,  Sir,  sir,*doy'  heare,  doy'  thinke  they  are  no  worse? 
Ruff,  Worse  !  why  can  they  be  worse  ? 
Fl,  O  sir,  I  they  may  be  priuate  Puncks  :  why  I  tell  you 
he  that  takes  vp  his  priuate  Punckes  linnin,   were  better 
295  take  vp  anie  commodity  about  the  Town  :  if  twere  a  com- 
moditie  of  Mousetrappes,  a  should  not  loose  much  by  the 
bargaine. 

Ruff,  But  hark  you  Fleire  hark  you,  tis  suppos'd  I  can  tell 
you  they  are  a  couple  of  priuate  Puncks* 

3oo      Fl.  Nay,  then  theres  some  hope  theile  proue  honest  wo 
men. 

Ruff.  Yea,  how  Fleire  how  ? 

Fl.  Why  your  priuate  punck  would  leaue  being  a  punck, 

rather  then  be  priuate  to  one  man  for  nothing,  and  then  if 

3o5  al  men  were  like  thee,  they  would  be  honest,  for  thou  hast 

nothing 


The  Fleire.  [27] 

nothing  to  giue  am. 

Ruff,    What   a   cogging  fleiring   Rogue   is  this,    nothing 
will  anger  him  :  but  doy'  heare  Fleire  ;  art  thou  a  procurer, 
or  a  knaue  ?  lor  one  of  them  I  am  sure  thou  art. 
3 10      Fl.  A  procurer  !  whats  that? 

Ruff.    One    that    procures    meanes   for    procreation,    vul 
garly  cald  a  Pander. 

F/,  By  this  light  now,  were  I  a  notable  Rogue,  should  I 
denie  my  profession,  why,  I  am  a  procurer  sir. 
3i5      Ruff,   Nay,  then  thou  art  a  Knaue  too  thats  certaine,  for 
there  is  such  a  simpathie  between  a  Procurer  and  a  knaue, 
as  there  is  betwixt  an  Alcumist  and  a  Begger. 

Fl,  But  looke  you  sir,  pra'y  wil  you  tel  me  one  thing  now. 
Ruff.  Whats  that  ? 

320      Fl,  Are   you  a  Whoremaster   or   a    Theife,    for    one    ot 
them  ime  sure  you  are. 

Ruff,  By  this  light  now  a  comes  neere  mee  too,   why  1 
am  a  whoremaster. 

F/,  Nay,  then  you  are  a  theef  too,  thats  certaine,  for  your 
3a5  whoremaster  alwaies  filcheth  for  victuals,  for  you  knowe 
flesh  is  mans  foode,  mary  sir  you  cannot  be  hang'd  for't,  tis 
but  pettilassarie  at  moste,  but  you  may  chance  bee  whipt 
for't  and  buin'd  too,  but  not  ith'  hand  Signior,  not  ith' 
hand.  Enter  Sparke. 

33o      Sp.  Saue  ye  Gentles. 

Ruff.  Then  we  are  enemies  to  the  lewes. 
Fie.  O  my  good  preferrer,  how  does  your  worshippe,  you 
are  a  stranger  heere. 

Sp.  Faith  I  haue  been  with  two  Gentlewomen,  in  whose 
335  companie  thou  first  sawst  vs,  and  there  the  Knight,  Sir  John 
Haue-little  is  so  in  loue  with  the  younger,  as  a  knowes  not 
whether  a  should  reioyce,  shee  had  so  much  beautie  :  or  la 
ment,  because  he  is  like  to  inioy  none  on't. 

F/f  By  my  troth  I  tooke  him  for  a  Coniurer,  when  I  first 
340  saw  him,  a  talkt  so  much  of  his  soule  and  the  Deuill. 

Sp  :  Why  a  sould  his  soule  to  the  Deuill  man,  for  the  vel- 
uet  that  lines  his  cloake. 
Fl.  And  when  will  he  giue  the  Diuell  his  dew  ? 

Sp.  Nay 


[28]  The  Fleire. 

Sp,  Nay,  a  deales  with  him,  as  a  does  with  his  Tailor,  goes 
345  vpon  trust,  and  meanes  to  pay  them  both  at  the  latter  day. 
Flo,  But  does  not  the  Gentlemen  iest  at  him  ? 
Sp,  Yes,  one  of  them  asked  if  he  were  a  celestriall  or  a  ter 
restrial    Knight,  &  he  very  ignorantlie  asked  what  Knights 
they  were  ?  your  terrestriall   Knight  quoth  she,  is  of  a  grosse 
35o  element,  and  Hues  vppon  landes  of  his  owne,  but  your  ce- 
lestrial  Knight,  hee  Hues  by  the  Heire,  that  is,  by  his  elder 
Brother.  He  it  was,  was  Knighted,  when  so  few  scapt  the 
sword,  and  he  it  is  that  now  Hues  by  the  sword. 

Fl,  And  what  said  the  Knight,  what  said  he  ? 
355      Sp,  Faith  as  some  Courtiers  doe,  laugh  at  that  he  did  not 
vnderstand,  and  swore  an  oath  or  two  of  the  new  fashion, 
as,  by  my  conscience  Ladie  you  haue  a  verie  good  spirit,  & 
so   after   two   or  three   Court    complements,   beseech'd  the 
Ladies  retaine  him  still  in  their  good  graces,  kist  his  hand 
36o  and  went  his  way. 

Flf    Faith  mee  thinkes  your   English  Ladies  were  verie 
gallant  Creatures,  had  they  not  one  fault. 
Sp,  What's  that  ? 

Fl,  I  haue  heard  say,  they  will  rise  sooner,  and  goe  with 
365  more  deuotion  to  see  an  extraordinarie  execution,   then  to 
heare  a  Sermon. 

Sp,  O  signer,  condemne  not  all  for  some,  indeede  I  must 
confesse  there  haue  been  Ladies  at  executions. 

Fl,  I,  and  they  sat  bare  fac't  too,  for  feare  the  little  fleet 

370  holes  of  their  maskes  should  not  giue  their  eyes  roome  y- 

nough  for  such  a  prospect  :  one  Ladie  thrust  her  head  so  far 

out  at  a  windowe,  with  greedy  desire  to  see  all,  that  the 

whole  body  was  like  to  followe,  making  a  forked  tree  with 

her  head  downe,  had  not  her  Gentleman  Vsher,   contrarie 

375  to  the  nature  of  his  office,  catcht  hold  of  her  behinde. 

Sp,  A  forked  tree  ;  why  what  tree  doost  thou  thinke  shee 
would  haue  made  ! 

Fl  :  O  sir,  a  Medler-tree,  a  Medler-tree. 
Sp,  But  Fleire,  how  does  the  Gentleman  Vsher  Hue  with 
thy  Ladies  ? 

38o      Fl.  Faith  sir  in  the  nature  of  a  Munkie,  that  flatters  and 

fawnes 


The  Fleire.  [29] 

fawnes,  and  shakes  his  taile  in  his  Mistres  lap  :  but  yfaith 
Gallants,  whether  are  you  two  bound  now  ? 

Sp.  We  are  euen  readie  for  your  two  Ladies  Signeur  ; 
385      Fie,  Faith  and  you  shall  finde  my  two  Ladies  as  readie  for 
you  two  :  Come,  come,  He  put  you  in  the  way  of  all  flesh, 
lie  send  you  to  Graues-endc,  He  see  you  in   the  Tilt-boat, 
When  you  are  there,  ship  your  selues  :  in,  in,  in. 

Ex.  Spe.  &  Ruf. 

390  Enter  Piso  and  Knight. 

Piso,  How  is't  Fleir  ? 

Fie.  O  my  Lord,  you  are  a  welcome  man. 
Kni.  Saue  you  O  signeur. 

Fleir  :  O  my  gracious  knight,   and  whither  are  you  two 
375  bound  now  ? 

Piso.  Faith  een  to  your  two  Ladies  signeur, 
Fie,   Yea  ?  and  will  you  to  the  South-ward  yfaith  ?  will 
you  to  the  confines  of  Italic  my  Gallants  ?  take  heede  how 
ye    goe    Northwardes,   tis  a   daungerous    Coast,    ieast    not 
400  with't    in    Winter,    therefore    goe     Southwardes    my    Gal 
lants,   South-wards  hoe   :   I  haue   shipt  two   Gallants  in  a 
storme,    I  feare   they   haue    spent   their   maine    Mastes  by 
this  time,   and  are  comming  home  agen  :  but  if  you   will 
Southwards,  my  hearts  of  golde,  He  shippe  you  in  pompe, 
4o5  He  sende  yee   vnder  the  verie  line,  where  the  Sunn's  at 
hottest. 

Piso.  But  come,  shall  we  goe  see  thy  Ladies,  Fleir? 
Fie.  I,  I,  I,  Come  :  but  my  good  Lord  youle  bee  a  wel 
come  man,  for  I  haue  heard  her  often  sweare,  that  had  she 
410  such  a  Husband,  a  man  so  richly  deckt  in  vertuous  orna 
ments,    shee   woulde   forsake   this   life,   her-selfe,    nay,   her 
verie  being,  to  be  your's  ;  O  my  good  Lord,  shee  loues  you 
deerly. 

Piso.  Pheu,  but  I  cannot  requite  it, 
41 5      Fie.  Why  my  good  Lord  ? 

Piso.  Shees  a  common  thing. 
Fie.  But  say  she  may  turne  my  Lord. 
Piso.  Shee  has  beene  so  much  worne,  shees  not  worth  the 
turning  now. 

E  Flo.  O 


[3o]  The  Tleire. 

420  Fie.  O  my  Lord,  penitence  doth  purge  a  spotted  soule, 
and  better  leaue  sinne  late  then  not  all  :  and  I  doe  knowe 
my  Lorde,  that  for  your  loue  from  her  immodest  life  sheel 
turne. 

Piso.  I.  I,  I  doubt  not  but  sheele  turne  :  but  t'will  bee 
425  like     a     Buzzard      Hawke      that      turnes     tayle      to     her 
game. 

Kni.  Fleir,  is  the  gentleman   vsher  that  I  preferd  to  your 
Ladies  in  any  fauour  with  them  ? 

Fie.  Great,  great  :  a  kisses   his   hand   with   an   excellent 
480  grace,   and    a   will   leire  and  fleire  vppon  am,  hee's  partly 
their    Phisitian,   a  makes  am  Suppositories,  and  giues  am 
Glisters. 

Kni.  And  how  Hues  he  with  am. 

Fie  :   Faith   like   Thisbe  in  the  play,   a   has  almosd  kil'd 
435  himselfe  with  the  scabberd  :  but  hearke  you  Knight,   you'l 
bee  a  welcome   man  to   my  yonger  Ladie,   I  protest  shee 
thinkes  worthily  of  you. 

Kni  :  Signeur,  I  must  confesse,  I  am  beholding  to  your 
Ladie ;  and  to  tell  you  truly,  I  haue  much  affected  her  since 
440  I  first  saw  her. 

Fie  :  Vpon  my  worde  sir,  to  my  knowledge  she  is  an 
honest  Gentlewoman,  yet  the  worlde  may  chance  speake 
ill  of  her.  Why  I  haue  heard  some  say  Pemlofe  was  a 
Puncke,  hauing  no  reason  to  suspect  her,  but  because 
446  shee  sat  vp  late  a  nightes,  when  t'was  but  to  vndoe  that 
which  shee  did  by  day.  I  haue  heard  some  say  Hercules 
was  a  coward  because  hee  did  not  fight  at  single  Rapier 
like  a  gallant,  but  with  a  Club. 

Kni  :  Nay,  I  haue  no  reason  to  thinke  the  worse  of  her 
460  for  the  report   of  the  worlde  ;   for  the   world  signeur  per 
chance  speakes  ill  of  you,  or  me. 

Fie  :  Why,  y'are  inth'  right,  I  haue  heard  some  say,  you 
were  a  verie  needie  Knight,  and  that  you  had  but  one 
455  shirt  to  your  backe  when  you  came  first  to  this  towne  ; 
Nay  more,  when  your  Lackie  carried  it  to  the  Laun- 
dresse,  it  was  founde  to  bee  a  womans  smocke,  that  you 
had  borrowed  :  but  what  ?  shoulde  my  Ladie  or  I 

beleeue 


The  Fleire.  [3i] 

beleeue  this  nowe? 

Kni.  I  hope  shee  doth  not, 
460      Fie.  No,  no,  no. 

Piso  :  Come  Fltir  shall  we  see  thy  Ladies  ? 
Fie.  I,  I,  hoe,  whose  within  there  ? 
Enter  Seruingman. 

Sew.  What  would  you  haue  maister  Fleir  ? 
465      Fie  :  Prethe   shewe  these   Gentlemen  vp  into   the  great 
Chamber,  and  giue  my  Ladies  notice  of  their  being  there, 
I  haue  a  little  businesse   my    Lords,    Heele   conduct   yee, 
yee  shall  finde  a  couple  of  your  acquaintance  there. 

Exeunt  :  manet  Fleir. 

470  Could  I  but  worke  Lord  Piso,  and  my  eldest  daughter,  to 
make  am  both  affect  and  loue  each  other,  that  marriage 
might  vnite  their  hearts  togither:  O  then  there  were  as 
sured  hope  wee  might  redeeme  our  honours  lost,  and 
regaine  our  right  in  Florence.  And  for  this  Knight 
475  though  hee  bee  poore,  yet  would  hee  married  were  vnto 
Felitia. 

For  of  a  louing  husbands  awfull  eye 
Sets  right  the  womans  steps  that  went  awrie. 
480  Heauen  I  know  has  grace  ynough  in  store, 

To  make  most  chaste,  a  most  lasciuious  whore. 
Enter  the  two  wenches  in  boyes  apparell. 
How  now  ?  who  haue  we  here  ?  a  couple  of  footmen  ? 
Su.  You  see  sir,  we  are  not  a  horsebacke. 
Fie  :  Howe  nowe   my   little  nre-workes  ot  witte  ?  what? 
485  flashes  and  flames  ?  tell  me  true,  were  you  neuer  Vshers  to 
some  great  mans  Coach-mares  ?  did  youe  neuer  run  bare 
before  them  ? 
Nan,  Neuer  we  sir  : 
Fie.  Whither  are  you  going  ? 

490      Sus.  Sir   we  want  a  seruice,  and  are  going  to  get  a  Ma 
ster. 

Fie.  Come,  come,  He  preferre  you  both,  thou  shalt  serue 
a   Countrey-man    of   mine,    hees   going   to  trauaile   :   shalt 

E2  goe 


[32]  The  Fleire.. 

goe  with  him,  &  thou  shall  serue  one  of  my  Ladies. 
4g5      Su.    We    would    willingly    serue    two    nere   friendes,    be 
cause  we  are  brothers,  and  indeed.two  twins,  and  therefore 
are  loath  to  be  parted. 

Fie  :  Two  twins?   that's  all* one,  come,  come,   you   shall 
serue  'am. 
5oo      Nan.  You  shall  pardon  vs  sir. 

Enter  Flor,  Sparke,  Felec  :  Ruffell,  Piso,  Knight 

and  Fromaga. 

Flor.  I  hope  youle  not  condemne  me  for  my  loue. 
Sp  :  I  haue  no  reason  Lady. 
5o5      Flo  :  I  offered  you  vnaskt. 

Sp  :  That  with  a  number  oft  hath  bought. 
Flo  :  Partlie  they  haue,  and  partlie  not  for  I  would  haue 
you  know,  my  function  seldom  sels  affection  :  what  though 
I  haue  euill  liu'd  ?  repentant  teares  'can  wash  away  my  sin, 
5io  which   ile   poore   foorth  like   droppes  of  winter  raine,   and 
now  hencefoorth,  euer  Ile  this  life  abhor,  and  to  the  earth 
my  knees  ile  dayly  bow,  to  get  mercy  from  heauon,    loue 
from  you. 

Nan.  O  the  deuill  take  impudencie  she  courts  him. 
5i5      Sp.  Madam,  the  loue  that  I  may  giue  you,  fully  doe  in- 
ioy,  but  I  haue  sworne  with  other  loue  then  as  a   Brother 
doth  a  sister  neuer  to  loue  any. 

Fel.  O  Sir,  m}'  fortunes  are  not  fellowes  with  my  birth, 

they  make  me  stoope  to  base  deiected  courses,   but  would 

52O  you  loue  me,  I  would  as  swift  as  thought  flie  this  life,  and 

leaue  lusts  fowlest  sinne,  for  fleshlye  beastes  to  sleepe  and 

wallow  in. 

Su  :  Shame  to  thy  sex,  no  more. 

Ruff  :  Lady,  in  all  the  honest  offices  that  friendship  may 
5a5  commaund,  commaund  me  still,  but  yet  I  haue  not  scene 
the  face  to  which  I  owe  so  much  of  loue,  as  may  iustly  ar 
rest  my  affections,  and  when  I  doe,  ile  pay  so  due  a  debt 
without  imprisonment. 

Pis  :   Methinkes   yond    Lady   growes   fayrer   much  then 

she 


The  Fleire.  [33] 

53o  she  was  wont,  me  thinks  her  feature  mendes,  &  her  come 
ly  gesture  much  hath  drawne  my  heart  to  loue  her,  O  but 
shee's  a  whore. 

Nan.  Gentlemen  doe  you  lack  a  Boy  ? 
Sp.  No, 

535      Nan.  O  God,  I  am  vndone. 
Su  :  Sir  do'y  want  a  Seruant  ? 
Ruff  :  No. 

Su  :  O  Lord  what  shall  I  doe  ? 
Pis  :  What  canst  doe  ? 

540      Na  :  Any  thing  that  a  Boy  should  doe. 
Kni,  Woot  dwell  with  me  ? 
Sn  :  Tis  partly  as  youle  vse  me. 
Kni  :  He  vse  thee  well. 
Su  :  Well. 

545      Pis  :  Tell  me,  are  you  both  content  to  dwel  with  vs  two  ? 
Both.  As  please  you  two. 
Pis.  Then  thou  shalt  Hue  with  me. 
Kni.  And  thou  with  me. 
Sp  :  Come  Gentlemen  will  you  bee  going? 
55o      Both  We  attend  you  sir. 

Sp.  Ladies  our  occasions  cals  vs  hence,  and  I  am  sorrye 
we  must  leaue  you.   Exeunt  :  manent  Piso  and  Nan. 

Flo.  Gentlemen  you   all   both  haue,  and   euer  shall  bee 
welcome. 

555  Pis  :  Lady  I  will  leaue  you  much  affection  more  then  I 
thought  to  lend  you,  but  I  deale  on  vse,  and  haue  much  in 
terest. 

Flei  :  Caught  I  hope  :  hold  hooke  and  Hue,  hee's  fast  by 
heauen. 

56o      Flo.  My   Lord,  what  you  lend  me,   with  much   interest 
shall  be  repaide. 
Pis.  A  dew. 

Flo.  Fare  you  well ;  refusd. 
Pel.  Contemn'd. 
565      Flo  :  Disdain'd, 
Fel  :  Abusd. 
Flo  :  Adyes. 

E  3  Fel.  A 


[34]  The  Fleire. 

Fel,  A  shall  not  Hue. 

Flo.  Disdaine  the  Daughter  of  such  a  Signior? 
570      Fel,  Contemne  a  Ladie  borne  ?  sister  we  are  wrong'd. 

Flo,  But  if  youle  consent  I  haue  a  proiect  laid,  that  in  re- 
quitall  both  of  them  shall  die. 

Fel.  You   make   my  soule  sweet  harmony,   come   lets  a- 
bout  it  then.  Exeunt.  Finis  Act  :  Secundi. 

Actus  Tertius  scena  prima. 

Enter  the  Ladies  each  with  a  Letter,  and  Fleire  aside. 
Flo.  Are  we  in  priuate  ? 
Fel,  We  are  ? 

5      Flo,  Pray  Sister  what   mooning   lines   of  loue  has  your 
Knight  toucht  your  affection  with  ? 

Fel.  Faith  his  stile  is  plaine,  onely  a  little  courtlike  silk 
en  phrase  it  has,  but  I  hope  your  lord  hath  sent  rich  words 
like  iewels,  for  your  eares  against  your  nuptiall  day. 
10      Flo.  Faith  a  woes   with  lines  that  might  perswade  ano 
ther  though  not  mee,  which  ile  lend  your  eyes,  vpon  the 
like  receiued  curtesie  from  you. 
Fel.  With  all  my  heart.  Change  Letters. 

Flo.  What  haue  we  heere  ?  Reade. 

i5  Lady  I  know   the  noblenes  of  your  disposition  defends  you  from 
the  least  Sparke  of  basenesse,   wherefore  I   inuocate  euerie  particu 
lar  vertue  of  yours  to  be  mediators  to  your  best  iudgement  for  my 
better  estimation  in  your  loue,   my  affection  is  zealous, 

my  intent  honorable,   my  desire  manage  :  thus 
20  desiring  your  resolued  answere,   I  rest. 

Euer  at  your  disposure  : 
lacke  Haue-little 

Knight. 

Vpon  my  life  some  friend  did  pen  it  for  the  foole. 
25      Fel.  Let  me  see  what's  this  ?  Reade. 

You  the  understanding  spirit  of  a  woman,  let  the  splender  of 
your  Beautie,   with  some  heate  of  your    affection    shine    vpon    the 

creature 


The  Fleire.  [35] 

creature  that  adores  yee,  and  with  the  heauenlye  comfort  of  your 
loue,  melt  and  thaw  dispair  from  my  dying  heart :  which  if  it  Hue,  it 
3o          Hues  to  loue,  if  dye  if  it  dyes  in  lout,  but  howsoeuer,  Us 
your's,  twas  made  for  you,  Hues  by  you, 
and  dies  without 
you. 

Yours  in  the  moste  zealous 
35  degree  of  affection. 

Don  Piso  De  Florence. 

Sister  vpon  my  life  this  is  sonne  and  heire  to  Duke  Piso 
that  now  is. 

Flo  :  O  would  hee  were  !  but  whosoere  he  bee,  a  must  bee 
40  made  a  match  to  giue  fire  to  the  hell  blacke  pouder  of  our 
reuenge,  yet  your  loue,  the  wise  Knight  and  he,  are  two  in 
one  there  are  no  such  friendes  as  they. 
Fie.  Then  let  them  march  both  hand  in  hand  in  one  way. 
Flo  :  Then  shall  be  thus  :  these  two  being  earnest  suters 
45  for  our  loues,  weele  graunt  vpon  condition,  that  suddenly 
they  murther  Sparke  and  Ruff  ell,  but  first  to  take  the  Sacra 
ment  if  euer  it  be  knowne,  as  knowne  'twill  be,  to  keep  our 

names  vnspotted  in  the  action  ;  this  being  done  

Fel.  Let  them  challenge  vs,  wee  and  our  loues  are  won. 
5o  but  say  they  should  reueale  vs. 

Flo.  O  none  will  breake  a  Sacrament  to  heape  vp  periury 
on  other  sinnes,  when  death  &  hel  stands  gaping  for  their 
soules. 

Pel.  But  say  they  raile  on  vs. 

55  Flo.  If  they  doe,  tis  knowne,  we  lou'd  Sparke,  and  Ruffel, 
and  men  will  thinke  they  kild  a'm  for  our  loues,  since  they 
liu'd  in  our  fauour,  these  in  disgrace. 

Fel,  I  like  it  well,  come  lets  hasten  it, 
For  this  is  euen  as  true  as  er'e  was  text, 

60  «  Plots  are  but  dreames  vntill  they  take  effects.        Exeunt. 
Fie.  O  God,  I  think  the  path  to  hell  that  women  tread 
is  broder  then  the  way  men  goe  :  how  they  walke  by  cou 
ples  to  the  Deuill  ? 

Enter 


[36]  The  Fleire. 

Enter  Piso. 

65      Pis.  O  that  I  should  loue  a  whore,  a  very  common  Co- 
catrise  my  thoughts  are  drown'd  in  a  gulf  of  sinne,  slice's  a 
very   Canniball,   which    doth    deuoure    mans  flesh,   and    a 
Horse-leach  that  sucks  out  mens  best  blouds  perfection  :  a 
very  prisoners  box,  thats  ope  for  euery  mans  beneuolece  : 
70  and  I  am  Heire  vnto  a  Duke,  yet  loue  her  :  doth  any  man 
heere  loue  a  whore  ?  I,  who  ?  I,  I,  I,  tis  I,  an  arrant  puncke  & 
common  hirde  Hackney,  and  yet  I  loue  her ;  I  adore  her, 
I  doate  on  her,  I  worshippe  her,  O  would  some  goodman 
would  cut  my  throate,  and  put  me  out  of  paine  —  of  paine, 
75  O  that  nature  would  not  make  an  honest  woman  ! 
Fl  :  She  did,  she  did  my  Lord. 
Pis,  Ar't  there?  speake,  who  was't? 
Fl,  Eue,  Eue  my  Lord,  she  was  honest. 
Pis,  Art  sure  on't  ? 

80  FL  I  sure  my  Lord,  for  there  was  no  man  to  tempt  her 
but  her  husband. 

Pis,   I  thought  twas  some  such  countrie   Gentlewoman, 
O  Fleire,  Fleire  I  loue  a  whore. 

Fl,  Why  my  Lord,  were  you  neuer  a  Soldier  ? 
85      Pis.  Yes  yes, 

Fl.  Why  then  tis  your  profession,  you  neede  not  be  a- 
sham'd  of  your  trade. 

Pis.  But  Fleire  woot  helpe  me,  woot  helpe  me  man  ? 
Fl.  I,  I,  who  i'st? 
90      Pis,  Thy  Lady,  thy  elder  Ladie. 

Fl,  O  my  Lord,  loue  her?  why  shee's  a  whore. 
Pis,  I  Fleire,  but  she  may  turne. 

Fl  :  But  shee  is  so  much  worne  my  Lord,  shee's  not  worth 
turning  now. 

g5  Pis.  Doe  not  vex  me,  doe  not  torment  me  :  doe  not  tor 
ture  me  vpon  the  racke  of  ieastes,  I  tell  thee  if  shee  please, 
she  may  turne. 

Fl :  I  my  Lord,  taile  to  her  game,  like  a  buzard  hauk,  or  so  : 

Pis.  Yet  againe,  now  the  Deuill  take  thy  body,  and  dam- 

loo  nation   light  vpon    thy    soule,   destruction    on    thy    bones, 

con- 


The  Fleire. 

confusion  in  thy  marrow,  dost  scorne  me,  mocke  me,  vexe 
me,  torment  mee  ?  dost  ?  dost  ?  He  hang  my  selfe,  nay,  He 
damne  my  self  rather  then  loue  thy  Ladie,  and  be  abusd  by 
thee  :  I  will,  I  will.  Exit  Piso  :  Enter  Knight. 

io5      Kni.  O  Fleir  how  does  thy  Ladie  ? 

Fit.  I  deliuerd  your  letter  sir,  and  she  thanks  you  for't  : 
Kni.  And  how  does  she  ?  ha,  how  does  she  ? 
Fie.  Faith  not  well,  she  has  taken  phisick,  and  your  gen 
tleman  vsher  there  ministers  to  her  :  shees  very  great,  and 
no  she  sayes  she  feeles  much  stirring  in  her  bellie. 

Kni  :  Sure  then  Fleir  she  has  eaten  too  much  raw  fruit. 
Fie  :  Vpon  my  life  then,  they  be  plums,  and  the  stones 
make  her  swell. 

Kni  :  Sure  then  t'  is  so,  I  should  send  her  something  to 
u5  comfort  her  nowe  beeing  sicke  :  what  doest  thinke  were 
best  Fleir  ? 

Fie.  Send  her  an  Oten  cake,  t'  is  a  good  Northern  token  : 
sir  Raph  Shaue  sent  his  Mistris  one,  but  I  think  a  meant  to 
ride  a  iourney  on  her,  and  thought  Otes  woulde  make  her 
120  trauell  well. 

Kni.  No,  Gates  is  too  great  a  binder  after  her  Phy- 
sicke,  I  care  not  if  I  goe  and  visite  her,  and  carrie  her  a 
Woodcocke. 

Fie.  You'le  goe  alone  sir. 

125      Kni.  I,  I  meane  so,  but  how  should  I  carrie  him  Fleir? 
Fie  :  Vnder  your  Cloke  sir,  vnder  your  Cloke. 
Kni :  Mas,  and  thou  saiest  true,  He  goe  buy  one  straight, 
and  yet  now  I  remember  me,  t'  is  no  great  matter  if  I  defer 
it  till  she  be  well,  it  shall  be  so  Fleir,  I  will. 
i3o      Fie  :  O  y'  are  of  a  French  humor  sir,  as  inconstant  as  impa- 
cient  :  I  thinke  you  haue  scarce  the  pacience  to  tell  the 
clocke  when  it  strikes. 
Kni.  Tush,  I  keepe  a  boy  for  such  vses: 
Fie.  For  nothing  else  ? 
1 35      Kni.  Yes,  to  weare  a  garded  Cloke. 
Fie  :  Not  till  you  be  richly  married. 
Kni.  No,  not  till  I  be  richly  married  :  hee  should  weare 
one  now,  if  my  money  were  come  out  o'  th  Countrey. 

F  Fie  :  I 


[38]  The  Fleire. 

Fie.  I  wonder  you  would  be  knighted  sir,  since  your  mo- 
140  ney  is  so  long  a  comming,  that  you  cannot  maintaine  your 
knighthood  gallantly. 

Kni.    Faith   I   was    knighted    to    get    mee    a    good    wife 
Fleir. 

Fie.  Get  you  a  good  wife  ?  Why  looke  you   sir,   speake 

145  but  the   Golden    tongue    verie  perfectly,   marry  you   must 

speake  it  well,  and  call  some  great   Lorde  cousen  :   t'will 

get  you  a  better   wife  then  three  hundred  pound  ioynter. 

You    may    report    you    haue    Colepits   too,    t'is    a    warme 

commoditie  I  can  tell  you  :  they  may  bee  sent  about  by 

i5o  water  ;    if   they    nere    come,   as    your   money    dooth    not, 

you    maye     curse    the    windes,     or    complaine    of    Ship- 

wracke  :  and  then  though't  bee  a  lie  t'is  drown'd. 

Kni.  I,  but  say   it  should  bee   proou'd   afterwards  t'was 
not  true. 

1 55  Fie  :  True  ?  Gods  my  life,  shee's  a  wise  woman  that  will 
goe  as  far  as  new  Castle  to  search  the  depth  of  a  Cole-pit 
for  your  truth. 

Kni.  I  would  be  loath  to  leaue  my  truth  so  far  hence. 
Fie.  But  I  am  sure  heele  bring  his  honestie  no  nearer  hi- 
160  ther ;  but  that  comes  about  by  water  too  as  his  mony  does. 
Kni.  But  Fleir  is  not  thy  Lady  a  vertuous  Gentlewoman  ? 
Fie.  O  yes  sir,  I  often  find  her  in  deepe  contemplation. 
Kni.  Of  what  I  prethe  ? 
Fir.  of  Aratines  pictures. 

i65      Kni :  I,  I  warrant  her,  O  she  can  endure  no  bawdrie,  shee 
spits  when  she  heares  one  speake  on't. 
Fie  :  Thats  because  her  mouth  waters  at  it. 
Kni  :  Shees  wondrous  musicall  too. 

Fie  :  Verie  true,  she  euerie  day  sings  lohn  for  the  King,  and 
170  at  Vp  tailes  all,  shees  perfect. 

Kni  :  Be  these  good  tunes  Fleir  ? 

Fie  :  Excellent,  excellent  sir,  farre  better  then  your  Scot 
tish  ligges. 

Kni  :  Yet  many  of  our  Ladies  delight  much  in  the  Scot- 
175  tish  Musicke. 

Fie.  I,  with  their  Instruments. 

Kni  :  Thou 


The  Fleire.  [3g] 

Kni.  Thou  hast  a  good  wit  Fleir  :  if  I  were  a  great  man 
thou  shouldst  be  my  Secretaire. 

Fie.   And    I    hope   I   should  discharge  the  place  suffici- 
180  ently  :  for  I   haue  learning  enough   to  take  a  bribe,   and 
witte   enough   to  be  prowd   :  but  whither   are    you  going 
now  sir? 

Kni.  Faith  I  am  going  to  thy  Ladies  Fleir. 
Fie.  You  will  not  speake  with  am  now  ;  for  my  Ladies 
i85  will  speake  with  none  but  Gentlemen. 

Kni.  Why  sir,  I  hope  I  am  a  Knight,  and  Knights  are  be 
fore  Gentlemen, 

Fie.  What  Knights  before  Gentlemen,  say  ye  ? 
Kni.  Faith  I. 

190      Fie  :  Thats  strange,  they  were  wont  to  bee  Gentlemen 
fore  they  were  knighted  :  but  for  this  newes  He  folow  you. 
Kni  :  Doe,  and  as  occasion  serues  He  preferre  thee. 

Exeunt. 

Enter  Piso,  and  Nan  as  his  Boy. 

ig5  Piso  :  Why  should  I  loue  her  ?  because  shes  faire,  because 
shees  faire  ;  because  shee's  a  whore  :  for  if  she  were  not  faire, 
she  would  not  be  a  whore  ;  &  if  she  were  not  faire,  I  should 
not  loue  her  :  Ergo,  if  shee  were  not  a  whore  I  shoulde 
not  loue  her  :  well  concluded  witte,  well  concluded  wit ; 
200  there  is  no  man  breathing  could  loue  her  but  I,  shee's  a 
whore,  yet  her  beautie  haunts  me  like  a  Ghost,  I  cannot 
sleepe  for't,  her  remembrance  rides  me  like  the  Mare  a 
nights,  I  cannot  rest  for't,  what  shall  1  doe  ?  I  shall  burst 
boy. 
2o5  Nan.  My  Lord. 

Piso  :  Will  thy  tongue  be  secret  ? 
Nan,  As  the  clapper  of  a  Mill,  my  Lord. 
Piso.  Is  not  that  alwayes  going? 
Nan.  I  my  Lord,  but  I  hope  it  sayes  nothing. 
210      Piso,  O  thou  hast  wit  1  see,  I  am  in  loue  boy,  I  am,  I  am. 
Nan  Writh  whom  my  Lord  ? 

Piso.  With  a  verie    Wagtaile    an  arrant  woman,  a  verie 
Peack  :  whose  pride  is  maintaind  by  her  taile. 
Na.  The  it  is  maintaind  by  the  worthiest  part  of  her  body. 
F  2  Pis.  Come, 


[40]  The  Fleire. 

2i5      Pis  :  Come,  your  wit  boy,  your  proofe. 

Nan,  If  a  hundred  men  in  a  company,  mee't  doth  not 
the  worthiest  man  amongst  them,  first  take  his  place,  and 
sit  downe  ? 

Pis.  I  graunt  it. 

220  Nan.  And  I  am  sure  my  Lord,  where  ere  the  bodie  comes 
the  taile  first  takes  his  place,  and  sits  downe,  and  therefore 
I  hope  tis  the  worthiest  part  of  the  body. 

Pis.  O  that  I  had  the  reason  of  a  Sailor  to  knowe  her  like  a 
rocke,  that  I  might  saile  from  her  and  auoide  her  :  or  as  a 
225  vertuous  man  knowes  sinne,  to  loath  and  leaue  it.  And  yet 
shee's  wondrous  faire,  I  would  she  were  as  honest  :  kinde  v- 
sage  may  reclaime  her  from  her  sinne,  and  make  her  stoupe 
vnto  her  Husbands  will,  as  doth  a  wel-mand  Hauke  vnto 
the  lure. 

280  Na  :  O  I,  shee  has  bin  man'd  alreadie,  she  knowes  the  lure 
and  will  come  to  any  call. 

Pis.  O  but  her  beautie  may  excuse  the  folly  of  her  youth, 

tis  want  of  maintenance  hath   ouerthrowne  her,   want  and 

pride  are  two  notorious  bawdes  :  want  makes  the  noblest 

235  creature  sell  her  soule  for  golde,  and  pride  doth  make  the 

gallants  stoope  to  lust. 

Na.  And  often  sels  pure  honestye,  to  clad  her  taile  in 
glittering  brauerie. 

Pis.   And  tis  well    done,   let  euerie  member  weare  that 
240  which  it  won  :  why  shold  the  head  studdy  to  maintaine  the 
foote  ? 

Nan  :  Or  the  foote  trot  to  maintaine  the  head  ? 

Pis.  Why  should  not  euery  member  like  a  mechanicke 

man  in  a  common-wealth,  labour  in  his  own  trade  to  main- 

245  taiiie  it  selfe  ?  then  since  euery  thing  must  Hue,  1  wil  no  more 

condemne   beautie  for  being  clad  in  luxurye,   but  hence- 

foorth  I  will  loue  her,  and  let  my  passion  smoothly  swimme 

a  long  the  streame  of  loues  affection  :  hencefoorth  I  will  no 

more  with  foule  and  hated  thoughts,  abuse  so  rare  a  crea- 

25o  ture,  whose  behauiour  and  discourse,  inchantes  the  eares  of 

men,  and  driues  the  world  into  a  wonder ay  me  ! 

Na.  Faith  my  Lord  youl  nere  win  a  woman  by  sighing, 

crossing 


The  Fleire.  [41] 

crossing  your  armes,  and  crying  aye  mee  !  the  onely  way  to 
win  them,  is  to  care  little  for  am  :  when  they  are  sad  doe  yee 
255  sing  :  when  they  sing  and  are  merrie,  then  take  your  time  & 
put  am  too't  :  if  they  will,  so  :  if  not,  let  them  snick  vp,  if 
you  will  walke  in  my  Lord,  ile  shew  ye  manie  principles 
I  learn't  of  my  Mother,  they  may  doe  your  lordship  good. 

Pis.  Go  go,  I  will  :  but  O  vnhappie  fate, 

260  When  youth  and  weakenes  must  support  our  state.       Exeunt. 
Enter  Fleire  one  way,  Sparke,  Ruffell  and  Petoune 

another  way. 

Sp  :  How  now  Fleire  ? 
Ruff  :  Saue  you  Fleire. 

265      Flei,  Saue  ye  Gallants  :  O  Signior  Petoune,  shall  you  and 
I  be  friendes  agen  ? 
Sp  :  Why  are  ye  enemies? 

Fie,  No  great  enemies,  a  quarrell  rose  betweene  vs. 
Pet,  I  doe  not  like  such  quarrels,  a  struck  mee  sir,  and  I 
270  protest  and  sweare  to  you  sir  by  this  Trinidado,  had  I  not 
taken  the  box  on  my  cheeke,  a  had  broke  my  Pipe. 
Sp  :  Why  didst  not  strike  him  agen  ? 
Ruff  :  O  no,  his  Father's  a  Justice. 

Flei,  Nay  if  the  Father  be  of  the  peace,  I  see  no  reason 
275  the  Sonne  should  fight. 

Ruff  What,  a  Coward  Signior  ?  fye,  a  coward  ? 
Fl.  A  Coward  ?  why  thats  his  onely  vertue,  for  a  Coward 
abuseth  no  man,  but  a  makes  him  satisfaction  :  for  if  a  wrog 
all  men,  a  giues  al  men  leaue  to  beate  him,  hee's  like  a  whet- 
280  stone,  he  sets  an  edge  on  another,  &  yet  a  wil  not  cut  him- 
selfe. 

Ruff.  Come,  come,  we  must  needes  haue  you  friendes,  & 
thou'st  doe  him  some  good  offices. 

Fl.  Who  ?  I  ?  with  all  my  heart,  but  what  i'st  sir  ?  what  is't  ? 
285      Ruff.  Thou  shalt  commend  his  loue  to  Mada  Fromaga. 

Fl  :  His  loue  to  her?  what  Signior,  in  loue  with  my  La 
dies  Antient  ? 
Sp  :  Why  her  Ancient? 

Fl  :  Because  shee  carries  her  colours  for  her,  but  tis  in  a 

box  ; 


[42]  The  Fleire. 

290  box  :  but  signior  you  shall  haue  a  good  match  on't,  though 
she  be  not  rich,  yet  shee's  an  ancient  woman,  and  is  able  to 
get  her  liuing,  by  midwiferie,  and  I  can  tell  yee  tis  not  the 
worst  trade  going,  considering  how  young  and  olde,  and 
all  doe  their  good  wils  to  set  them  a  worke  :  and  tis  a  good 
295  hearing,  better  they  gette  then  the  Lawyers,  for  your  mid- 
wiues  Hue  by  the  agreement  betweene  partie  and  partie, 
&  the  falling  in  of  louers,  but  the  Lawyers  Hue  by  the  fal 
ling  out  of  friendes. 

Pet  :  I  pray  sir  what  may  she  be  worth  ? 

3oo  Flo.  Worth  ?  let  me  see,  shee  hath  three  yellowe  pere- 
wigs  of  her  own  :  she  hath  a  Fan  with  a  short  siluer  handle 
about  the  length  of  a  Barbors  siringe  :  she  has  a  Looking- 
glasse  too,  but  that  has  plaid  the  prodigall  Cittizen  with 
her,  tis  broken,  and  much  other  goods  of  the  same  na- 
3o5  ture. 

Sp.  But  come  Signior,  how  will  you  woe  her  ? 
Pet.  I  will  tell  her  she  is  so  wise,  that  neither  age  nor 
time  could  cousen  her  of  beautie. 

Fl,  And  by  my  faith  that  will  doe  well. 

3io      Pet.  I  will  tell  her  that  I  loue  her  most  for  the  whitenes 
of  her  skin. 

Fl :  But  you  may  not  say  the  sweetnes  of  her  breath,  for 
that  stinks. 

Pet.  I  will  praise  the  smalnes  of  her  nngars. 
3i5      Fl.  But  I  assure  you,  you  may  better  praise  the  length  of 
her  nailes. 

Pet.  I  am  affraide  that  being  olde  shee  has  a  drye  hand. 
Fl,  Thats  certaine,  but  she  has  a  very  moiste  nose,  you 
may  praise  her  for  that  :  but  my  Gallants  why  are  ye  such 
320  strangers  at  our  little  Court? 

Sp  :  Because  thy  Ladies  liue  like  the  Beadles  of  Bride 
well. 

Fl,  How's  that  sir  ? 
Sp  :  By  the  sinnes  of  the  people. 

325      Ruff.  They  say  the  Lord  Piso,   hath  bin  a  good   Clyent 
to  thy  elder  Ladie  of  late. 

Fl,  The  more  foole  hee  ?  why  your  good  Client  is  but 

like 


The  Fleire.  [43] 

like  your  studdie  gowne,  sits  in  the  colde  himselfe,  to  keep 
the  Lawyer  warme. 
33o      Sp.  And  what  fees  hast  thou  out  of  their  trade  ? 

F/,  Faith  my  fee's  are  like  a  puny  Clarkes,  a  penny  a 
sheete. 

5^.  How  a  peny  a  sheete? 

Flc,  Why,  if  any  lie  with  them  a   whole   night,    I   make 
335  the  bed  ith'  morning,  and  for  that  I  haue  two  pence,  and 
that's  a  peny  a  sheete. 

Ruff,  What  Gallants  vse  to  come  to  your  house  ? 

Fl  :  All  sortes,  all  nations,  and  all  trades  :  there  is  first 

Maister     Gallant    your    Britaine,    Maister    Metheglins    your 

340  Welchman,    Mounsieur  Mustroome  the    Frenchman    :    Signi- 

or  Fumada  the  Spaniard,   Maister   Oscabath  the   Irishman    : 

and   Maister  Shamrough  his  Lackey,  O  and  Maister  Slopdra- 

gon    the     Dutchman.    Then    for    your    Trades-men,    there 

comes    first    Maister    Saluberrimum    the    Phisitian,    Maister 

345  Smooth  the  Silk-man,   Maister  Thimble  the   Taylor,   Mayster 

Blade    the    Cutler,    and   Maister  Rowdl  the  Spurrier   :  but 

Maister    Match    the    Gunner    of    Tower-hill    comes    often  ; 

he  has  taught  my  Ladies  to  make  fire-workes,  they  canne 

deale  in  Chambers  alreadie,  as  well  as  all  the  Gunners  that 

35o  make  am  flye  off  with  a  traine  at  Lambeth,  whe  the  Maior 

and    Aldermen  land  at  Westminster   :   but  come   Signior, 

you  haue  Tobacco,  and  ile  giue  you  a  Cup  of  Muld-sacke 

and  weele  ene  goe  drinke  a  health  to  our  Mistresses. 

Exeunt. 
355  Finis  Act.  Tertii. 

Actus  Quartus. 

Enter  the  two  Ladies,  Piso  and  Knight,  and  Fromaga  one  way  : 
Sparke,  Ruffell,  Petoune  and  Fleire,  an 
other  way. 

5      Flo  :  Health  to  our  best  esteemed  friends,  Maister  Spark 
and  Maister  Ruffell. 

Pel :  Our  good  wishes  euer  waite  vpon  our  best  belooued 
friendes  Maister  Ruffell,  and  Maister  Sparke. 

Ambo.  Wee 


[44]  The  Fleire. 

Ambo  :  Wee  both  are  much  indebted  to  your  Ladi ships. 
10      Fie  :  Looke  yee  signior,  thats  she  :  whose  loue  meanes  to 
assault  your  braines,  since  you  haue  blowne  vp  your  owne 
sconce  with  Tobacco. 

Pet.  As  I  am  truely  generous,  shee's  modest. 
Faire  Mistris,  you  are  so  wise,  that  neither  time  nor  age 
1 5  could  euer  cousen  you  of  beautie,  and  I  sweare  euen  by  the 
Alpes    high    heauen-touching    tops,   the    trauelers   narrowe 
passage,  and  by  the  towring  head  of  high  mount  Chiego,  the 
Sea-mas  southward  marke  :  by  these  the  witnesses  vnto  my 
trauell,  I  doe  vow  that  you  are  passing  fayre. 
20      From  :  If  I  be  not  faire  sir,  I  must  be  foule. 
Pet  :  A  Foule  Lady  ?,  what  bird  might  that  be  j* 
Fro  :  A  foule  Ladie  ?  y'are  a  sawcy  lacke  to  call  mee  so, 
that  you  are. 

Pet.  O  be  not  angry,  for  I  protest  I  cannot  but  commend 
25  the  whitenes  of  your  skin. 

From  :  Mary  muffe,   I  thinke  a  be  a  Tanner,  a  meanes 
to  buy  me  for  my  skin. 

Pet  :  Gods  mee ;   shee's  angrie,   what  shall   I   doe   now 
Signior  ? 

3o      Fie.  To  her  agen  man,  doe  not  leaue  her,  the  Moone  is 
now  vpon  change,  she  will  turne. 

Pet  :  I  pray  you  Ladie  knowe  mee  by  the  title  of  some 
kindenes. 

From.  Kindenes  ;  faith  sir  you  are  mistaken  in  mee,  you 
35  must  seeke  your  flurts  some  other  where,  and  I  pra'y  come 
not  to  make  a  foole  of  me  :  alas  man  though  I  am  a  waiting- 
woman,  do  not  think  I  spend  my  time  in  nothing  but  tem 
pering  of  colours,   working  of   drawn-worke,   warming    of 
Smockes,  and  pinning  in  of  ruffes,  faith  yes. 
40      Fie  :  And  you  come  to  her  Signior  you  must  come  to  her 
as  countrie  Gentlewomen  doe  into  the  fashion,  that  is  :  in 
the  taile  and  latter  end  on't. 

From,  Faith  I,  and  ye  come  to  begin  your  knauerie  on 

me,  He  take  you  down  :  I  am  none  of  your  young  simpering 

45  waiting-women,  that  are  asham'd  to  be  counted  proud,  & 

therefore  suffer  euerie  Seruingman  to  vse    them    at   their 

pleasure  : 


The  Fleire.  [46] 

pleasure. 

Pet.  Now  on  my  conscience  Mistresse,  my  loue  is  honest, 
and  I  desire  marriage. 

5o  Fro.  Indeed  if  you  meane  mariage,  I  am  content  to  beare 
the  more  with  you  :  but  I  pra'y  sir,  when  shal  we  be  maried  ? 
by  my  troth  I  aske  you,  because  I  haue  beene  so  often  de- 
ceiued,  I  warrant  you  I  haue  bin  promised  &  dealt  vpon 
promises  in  the  way  of  mariage  aboue  an  hundred  times. 
55  Pet.  At  our  next  meeting  we  wil  set  down  a  day  for  the 
effecting  of  it. 

Flo.   Gentlemen,   we   haue  some    small  discourse  which 
a  little  requires  secrecie,  therefore  if  it  please  ye  to  walke 
in,  and  make  vse  of  our  better  roomes,  wee  will  not  long 
60  be  absent  from  you. 

Sp.  <S»  Ruf  With  all  our  heartes.      Exeunt. 

Manent  two  Ladies  the  Lord  and  Knight  : 
Felicia,  and  the  two  Wenches  disguised,  hide 
themselues. 

65  Flo.  Worthy  Lord,  doe  not  thinke  immodestie  in  mee 
though  contrarie  to  the  bashfull  habite  of  my  sexe,  I 
am  inforc'd  by  loues  almightie  power,  to  reueale  the  se 
cretes  of  my  heart.  Your  Letters  haue  so  much  pre~ 
uailed  with  mee,  that  in  a  worde  I  must  confesse  I  loue 
70  you. 

Fel.  Worthie  Knight,  I  would  my  wordes  had  but  the 
power  so  worke  in  you,  that  which  your  lines  haue  done 
in  me,  then  should  the  happie  consolation  of  my  life  dwell 
euer  in  your  loues  embracements. 

75  Kni.  Assure  ye  Ladie,  your  gift  of  loue  to  mee  shall  bee 
deserued,  though  nothing  but  my  Hues  deare  breath  re 
quite  its. 

Piso.  And  I  will  rather  die  a  shamefull  death,  then  Hue 
a  hatefull  life,  which  I  must  do  vnlesse  I  find  a  meanes  that 
80  may  deserue  your  loue. 

Flo.  Nowe  your  tongue  goes  like  a  well  tuned  Instru 
ment,  and  makes  my  heart  within  my  bosome  daunce 
with  ioy  to  heare  such  large  requitall  of  my  loue  :  but 
durst  you  to  maintaine  this  your  affection,  although  it 

G  were 


The  Fleire. 

85  were  with  some  daunger  of  your  life  ? 

Piso.   Durst  I  ?  I  vowe,   euen  by  my  soules  eternitie,   I 
durst. 

Flo  :  Alas,  if  you  knew  all,  t'is  your  owne  good,  not  mine  : 
and  yet  I  lie,  t'is  my  good  too,  since  my  life  depends  vpon 
90  your  safe  tie. 

Piso.  What  is't  deare  Ladie  ?  although  it  be  the  death  of 
man,  if  it  be  pleasing  vnto  you  He  doo't. 

Flo  :  O  let  me  embrace  so  deare  a  spirit  in  so  deare  a  bo- 
some  :  and  since  you  haue  bound  your  selfe  by  promise,  I 
95  will  be  plaine,  there  are  two  that  hate  you  two,  because 
wee  loue  you,  and  often  haue  perswaded  vs  by  giftes 
and  large  protestations  to  haue  vs  loue  them  if  they  kil'd 
you. 

Piso  :  What  vs  ? 
zoo      Kni  :  Who  wee  ? 

Flo  :  Nay  t'is  too  true  ;  for  while  you  liu'd,  they  said 
there  was  no  hope  for  them  to  looke  for  any  loue  from 
vs  :  nowe  wee  poore  sillie  women,  fearing  least  they 
without  consenr  of  vs,  should  doe  that  which  their  ha- 
io5  tred  doth  intend,  wee  thinke  it  fitte  preuention  first 
be  vsed,  by  giuing  them  to  drinke  of  what  themselues 
haue  brude. 

Piso  :  First  murther  them. 
Fel.  True,  so  shall  ye  then  be  sure, 
no  T'inioy  our  loues,  we  yours,  and  Hue  secure. 

Piso.  But  what  are  they  Ladies  ? 
Flo.  Sparke  Fel.  And  Ruffell. 

Pis  :  They  die  for't  though  they  were  my  fathers  sons. 
Kni.  They  shall  not  Hue. 

n5  Piso  :  Let  little  children  feare  the  shallow  Brookes,  for 
I  can  swim  though't  be  through  Seas  of  blood  ;  let  foolish 
feare  goe  dwell  with  women,  for  bloodie  resolution  shall 
not  part  from  me,  He  kill  them  both  euen  with  mine  owne 
hands,  He  doo't. 

120      Flo.  O  no,  He  reueale  it  then,  vnlesse  you  first  do  swear 

and  take  a  Sacrament,  what  euer  hap  to  keepe  our  names 

Piso  Vntoucht?  weele  doo't.  (vntoucht. 

Fel.  Then 


The  Fleire.  [47] 

Pel.  Then  for  the  meanes  : 
Kni  :  Weele  stabb  them. 
125      Piso  :  Weele  fight  with  them. 

Flo  :  No,  so  you  may  misse  them,  and  they  kill  you. 
Pel  :  Giue  them  a  Figg. 
Flo  :  Make  them  drinke  their  last. 
Fel.  Poyson  them  :  Piso  But  for  the  meanes. 

i3o      Flo  :  You  two  shall  make  a  banquet,  and  in  a  cuppe  of 
Wine  a  health  shall  passe. 

Piso  :  In  which  ile  mingle  mingle  such  a  dram,  as  they 

shall  ride  to  heauen  in  post,  vnlesse  they  misse  the  way. 

Kni.  But   where  shall   we  get  the  poyson  ?  because  you 

i35  knowe  t'is  daungerous,  and   will  breede  suspect  where  ere 

wee  buy  it. 

Piso.  I  haue  a  Countrey-man  in  towne  an  Apothecarie, 
one  Signtur  Aluino,  a  fellow  that  is  well  stor'd,  and  will 
sell  me  of  the  best. 

140      Nan  :  If  a  were  of  my  minde,  a  would  thinke  no  poyson 
too  good  for  you. 

Flo  Come  then,  I  would  haue  you  goe  about  the  prepa 
ration  of  the  feast.  Exeunt. 

Fie,   Now  boyes,  you  haue  a  couple  of  goodly  maisters, 
145      Nan.  I  Fleir,  and  thou  hast  a  couple  of  vertuons  Mistres 
ses,    O   they    are    a    couple    of    damn'd   peeces,   that    will 
plot    or  counsell   the  death   of  two  such   worthie    Gentle 
men. 

Su.    For  one  of  them  the  earth  did  neuer  beare  a  wor- 
i5o  thier  creature. 

Nan  :  Which  is  that  ? 

5«,  Which  is  that?  Why  sister,  haue  you  so  oft  confest 
that  his  all  perfection'd   spirit  poyntes   him    out   for    ver- 
tue   herselfe  to   imitate,   and  yet  doy'  aske   now   which  is 
i55  that  ? 

Fie,  Howe  ?  sister,  nay  now  I  smell  you  yfaith,  doy' 
heare,  doy'  heare,  whose  Fidlers  are  you  two  ?  what  In 
struments  do  you  beare  I  pra'y  ? 

Nan.   You   haue  tolde  a   wise  tale,   fayth  sir  wee  carrie 
160  none. 

G  2  Fl*.  T'is 


[48]  The  Fleire. 

Fl :  Tis  true  my  little  musitians,  you  carry  but  the  cases 
my  little  curtals,  yfaith  I  smell  a  smock  heere  too,  and  are 
you  two  wenches  yfaith  ? 

Nan  :  If  we  were,  I  hope  thou  wouldest  not  wrong  vs. 
i65      Fl  :  No,  as  I  am  true  Italian  borne. 

Su  :  Then  tis  true,  wee  confesse  to  thee  wee  are  both 
wenches,  and  the  loue  of  these  two  Gentlemen,  Sparke  and 
Ruffel  hath  made  vs  leaue  our  selues  to  waite  on  them 
which  by  misfortune  we  did  misse. 

170      Fie.    But    beleeue   me   my   little  Gallants,   yee  play  the 
Boyes  well. 

Na.  Well  ?  why  ile  tell  thee,  I  haue  plaid  the  boy  so  long 
as  I  am  chang'd  into  the  nature  of  a  boy,  ile  goe  to  span- 
counter  with  any  page  in  Europe,  for  his  best  garters  I  can 
175  tell  baudie  tales  drinke  drunke,  brag,  sweare,  and  lye  with 
any  Lackie  in  the  towne. 

Su  :  I  can  man  a  punck  to  a  play,  or  slaunder  any  Gentle 
woman  as  well  as  anie  Innes  a  (^ourt  puny,  I  can  as  well  as 
he,  sweare  such  a  Lady  is  in  loue  with  me,  and  such  a  Citti- 
180  zens  Daughter  would  haue  come  to  bed  to  mee,  when  all 
shall  be  as  true  as  thy  Ladies  are  honest. 
Na  I  wonder  thoult  Hue  in  such  a  sinfull  place. 
Su  :  Thy  Ladies  are  as  common  as  any  Tauerne  doore. 
Fl.  Good  comparisons,  for  a  man  comes  no  sooner  into 
i85  a  Tauerne,  but  hees  welcome,  and  the  operation  of  the  pot 
makes  him  not  able  to  stand  when  he  comes  out. 
Na,  But  what  shall  we  doe  in  this  matter? 
Su.  Doe?  Why  complaine  them  to   the  Magistrates,  and 
preuent  the  murder, 

190      Fl,  No,  not  so,  ile  tell  you  how't  shall  bee,  harke  in  your 
eares. 

Both  :  Doe  it  and  we  shall  euer  thanke  thee. 
Gome  lets  about  it  then.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Signior  Alunio  the  Apothecarie  in  his  shop  with 
J9^  wares  about  him. 

Al.  Whats  this?  O  this  is  Arringus ;  this  makes  the  old 
man  able,  and  the  young  man  lustie,  slrengthneth  the 

nerues 


The  Fleire.  [49! 

nerues  &  doth  concoct  the  bloud,  and  her  name  is  written 
on  the  box,  because  my  wife  should  knowe  it  in  my  ab- 
200  sence  :  this  is  Ciuet,  this  comes  from  the  Cats  taile,  I  would 
my  were  such  a  Cat  :  this  perfumes  your  Ladies,  and  not 
without  cause,  for  some,  I  meane  whose  sweet  breath  is 
dead,  and  teeth  mourne  in  blacke  for  the  losse  on't  this 
makes  your  young  Gallants  smell  them  nine  daies  before 
2o5  they  see  them,  like  young  poops  :  this  drug  is  pretious  & 
deere  ;  whats  this  ?  O  this  is  the  sptrit  of  roses,  nineteene 
bushels  and  a  halfe  of  Roses  make  but  an  ounce,  &  a  dram 
on't,  tis  made  of  the  Ouinressence  of  the  water  after  the 
fifteenth  distillation  :  none  may  kisse  a  Ladie  after  shee  hath 
210  annointed  her  lips  with  this,  vnder  the  degree  of  a  lord  at 
least,  tis  worth  nine  poundes  an  ounce,  yet  I  could  neuer 
still  it  so. 

Enter  Fleire  disguised. 
Fie.   Saue  you  Signior. 
2i5      Alu  :  Y  'are  welcome  sir,  what  doe  ye  lacke  ? 

Fel.   I  want  a  seruice,  and  am  by  my  profession  an  Apo- 
thecarie  ,  and  shall  be  glad  to  be  intertained  by  you. 
Alu  :   What  countrie  man  art  thou  ? 
Fie.   1  am  a  Florentine  borne. 

220  Alu,  Thou  art  my  Countrieman,  and  therfore  welcom 
and  in  happie  time,  for  I  am  bound  for  Italy,  and  want  a 
man  to  take  charge  of  my  Shop,  onely  this  is  all  :  I  shall  re 
quire  of  you,  bee  carefull  of  your  cares,  and  obedient  to 
your  Mistr9sse. 

225      Fie.   I  shall  remember  still  not  to  forget  what  you   giue 
me  in  charge. 
Alu.  What  is  thy  name  ? 
Fie,  lacomo. 

Alu  :  Well  lacomo,  if  I  finde  thee  honest  thou  shalt  find 
23o  me  liberall. 

Fie.   I  would  be  loath  to  be  found  otherwise. 
Alu  :  Continue  so,  I  prethee,   and  so  farwell   laques,  but 
ile  enforme  my  wife  before  I  goe  to  respect  thee  according 
to  thy  merrit.  Exit. 

G  3  Enter 


[5o]  The  Fleire. 

235  Enter  Piso  and  Knight. 

Fie.  Now  come  away  my  Customers,  I  hope  I  am  fitted 
for  an  Apothecary,  s'hart  I  thinke   ime  turnd  coniurer,  for 
I  haue  no  sooner  cal'd,  but  the  Deuils  are  appeared,  what 
do  yee  lacke  Gentlemen  ? 
240      Pis.   Where's  your  Maister  fellow  ? 

Fie.   My  Maister  is  gone  into   Italic  sir,  but  if  you  want 
any  thing.,  ile  use  you  well,  if  you  want  any  drugs  to  make 
Lotiums,  any   Restringent  Powders,  anie  Aqua   Mirabilis, 
any  Cordiall  receipts,  or  anie  Pretious  poysons  ? 
245      Kni.  What  poysons  haue  j^ou  ? 

Fie.  Excellent  good  sir,  as  euer  was  tasted,  looke  you  sir, 
this  poysons  by  the  smell,  this  by  the  sight,  and  this  by  the 
tastes. 

Pis,   Come   giue   mee   some  of  this   that  poysons  by  the 
260  taste,  but  how  must  I  use  it  ? 

Fl,  Put  it  into  a  little  wine,  and  drinke  it,  twill  bring  you 
into  a  long  sleepe. 

Pis.  But  art  sure  twill  poyson  a  man  ? 
Fie.  Am  I  sure  on't?  why  tak't  vpon  my  credit,  twil  poi- 
255  son  any  vermine,  except  it  be  a  woman,  for  twill  poyson  a 
Cat  sir. 

Kni,  Why  a  Cat  hath  nine  Hues  sir,  and  wilt  not  poyson 
a  woman,  seeing  twill  poyson  a  Cat  ? 

Fl.   O  no,  why  a  woman  hath '  nine  Cats  Hues,  a  woman 
260  hath  more  Hues  then  a  horse  hath  diseases,  and  she  wil  bee 
sometimes  in   as   many   mindes  in  an  houre,    as   shee   has 
Hues. 

Pis,  What  times  are  those  ? 

Fl.  When   shee's    left  a  rich   Marchants   Widdow,   com- 
265  monly,  and  hath  many  suiters,  she  will  in  her  minde  marrie 
three  or  foure  and  fiftie  of  a'm  in  an  afternoone,  and  three 
score  more,  when  she  goes  to  bed,  yet  in  the  morning  sheele 
haue  none  of  them  all,  but  goe  to  Church  before  day,  and 
marry  her  Prentice  for  the  good  seruice  a  did  her  in  her 
270  Husbands  time. 

Pis,  Well,  but  whats  the  price  of  your  poyson  ? 
Fl.  Theres  an  ounce  will  cost  you  a  French  crowne  sir. 

Kni.  Tis 


The  Fleire.  [5i] 

Kni :  Tis  very  deere. 

Fie.   O   sir  tis  verie  cheape,   considering    the   goodnesse 
276  on't. 

Pis.   Yea  ?  is  there  good  in  ill  ? 

Fl,   O  sir,  I,  in  many  thinges  the  better  the  worser. 
Kni.  As  how  ? 

Fie  :  As  in  poyson,  or  in  a  punck,  for  the  better  whore 
280  the  worser  woman  euer. 

Pis,   Well    honest   fellowe,    there's   thy    money   and    far- 
well.  Exit. 

Fie  :   I  thanke  you  sir,  I  haue  sold  you  a  poyson  my  old 

elders,  twil  make  am  sleep  indeede,  and  I  thank  God  that's 

285  the   worst   twill   doe,  well,   farwell    Maister   Apothecarie  I 

must  now  like  a  friend  intreate  your  shop  to  haue  a  special 

care  of  it  selfe.  Exit. 

Enter  Sparke,  Ruffel  and  Petoune. 

Ruff,   And  shall  wee  dine  with  this  Honorable  Lord,  & 
290  Knight  to  day  ? 

Spa,  Theile  take  it  vnkindely  else. 
Ruff,   Signior  will  you  goe  ? 
Pet,   Not  I,  I  was  not  bid. 
Ruff,   Thats  all  one,  shalt  be  my  guest. 

296      Sp,   Come,  a  shall  goe,  for  there   will   bee   his   Mistresse 
Madam  Fromaga. 

Ruff,    Nay  then  I  knowe  the  let   of  her   complexion  will 
draw  the  straw  of  his  loue  thither. 

Sp.   Faith  I,  poore  Signior,  I  see  the  Springle  of  her  beau- 

3oo  tie  hath  alreadie  caught  the  woodcocke  of  his  affections. 

Pet,  Wei,  Isee  he  that  wil  haue  the  commoditie  of  good 

wits  in  his  cornpanie,    must   indure   the   discommoditie   of 

ieastes,  wit  is  like  the  heate  of  blood  in  youth  'twil  breake 

out. 

3o5      Ruff,   True   Signior,    though    it   bee   but   on  a  Scab,  but 
come  shall  we  goe  ? 
Pet :   I  my  Heroique  spirits,  ile  followe  yee.     Exeunt. 

Actus 


[5s]  The  Fleire. 

Actus  Quintus. 
Enter  Petoune  one  way,  and  Nan  the  Page 

another  way. 

Nan,   O  Signior  Petoune,  what  newes  ? 

5  Pet.  Faith  ill  newes,  the  two  Florentine  Ladies,  with 
Maister  Sparke  and  Maister  Ruffell  were  all  poysoned  yest 
erday  at  a  feast  by  your  Lord  Piso  and  the  Knight,  but  the 
Ladies  haue  recouered  their  health,  but  Sparke  and  Ruffell 
are  dead,  and  their  burial  is  committed  to  Fleire  :  your  Lord 
10  &  the  Knight  are  committed  to  prison,  &  shal  to  morrow 
be  arraign'd  for  the  murther,  and  tride  by  the  Ciuill-lawe, 
because  your  Lord  is  a  stranger,  and  claimes  to  be  tride  by 
the  law  of  nations. 

Nan  :  Faith  Signior  I  am  very  sorry  for  my  Lord. 
1 5      Pet,   I  protest  sir  so  am  I  for  them  both. 
Nan,  Well  Signior  ile  commit  you  to  God. 
Pet,   Let  the  whole  band  of  Angels  be  centinells  to  your 
safetie  sweet  sir.  Exeunt. 

Enter  Fleire  at  one  doore  :  and  a  Seruingman  at  another. 
20      Fie,   I  pray  sir  doth  lustice  Ferrio  dwell  heere  ? 
Ser,  Yes  sir  a  dwells  heere. 
Fl.  Are  you  towards  him  sir  ? 

Ser.   I  am  a  poore  Gentleman,  whose  fortunes  much  de 
pend  vpon   his   fauours,  and   indeede  sir  I  am  his   Clarke. 
25      Fie.   I  prey  sir  your  name. 

Seru.   My  name  is  Mittimus  sir. 

Fie,    Good    Maister    Mittimus    I    would    very    willinglie 
speake  with  your  Maister. 

Ser.   Indeede  sir  hee's  not  well,  but  if  you  please  to  send 
3o  by  me  the  substance  of  your  busines  I  shall  very  carefullie 
deliuer  it. 

Fie,   Truely  Maister  Mittimus   my   businesse  is  but  this  : 
to  morrow  the  Italian  Lord,  and   Sir  lohn  Haue-little  are  to 

be 


The  Fleire.  [53] 

be  araign'd,  and  your  maister   beeing  the   chiefe    ludge  of 
35  the  Court,  without  his  presence  or  licence,  the  rest  can  do 
nothing  :   wherefore    Doctor    Caius   intreates   to  know   his 
pleasure  in  this  businesse. 

Mitti :  Sir  I  shall  deliuer  your  message,  and  will  returne 
his  answere  to  you  presently. 

40      Fie  :   Good    maister    Mittimus    therein    shall    you    much 
obleige  me  to  be  thankfull. 
O  all-directing  power  yeeld  good  aspect, 
And  to  my  purpose  giue  a  blessed  ende, 
My  intent  is  good,  O  let  it  so  succeede, 
45  And  be  auspicious  still  to  each  good  deede. 

Enter  Seruingman  with  a  Ring. 

Ser  :  Sir  my  maister  hath  receiued  your  message,  &  hath 

sent  this    Ring  as  a  token  to  Doctor   Caius,   desiring   him, 

since  my  maisters  health  will  not  permit  him  to  be  present, 

5o  to   proceede   alone   to   Judgement,    and   so   commends  his 

loue  to  him. 

Fie:  Good   maister   Mittimus,  I  shall   both   deliuer   your 
maisters  commendations,  and  the  Ring. 

Exeunt  seuerally. 
55  Enter  Lord  Piso  with  a  Torch,  a  Night -cap,  and  his 

Doublet  open  :  In  prison. 

Piso.   Still  tonguelesse  night  put  off  thy  sable  robe 
Thou  needs  not  mourne,  my  villanies  were  done 
By  day,  thou  hadst  no  hand  in  them,  O  I  am  great,  as  is  a 
60  woman  that  is  neare  her  time  : 
And  life's  the  burthen  that  I  beare. 
But  t'is  a  bastard  for  that  I  am  asha'md  on't. 
The  Law  I  hope  is  a  skilfull  midwife,  and  will  soone  deli 
uer  me  ;  grim  Justice  doe  thy  worst, 
65  Thy  crueltie  shall  prooue  a  curtesie, 
And  baile  me  out  of  prison. 

Lie  there  thou   selfe-consuming  Taper,   true  patern  of  my 
life,  I  haue   consumde   my   selfe   for   others,  as  thou   hast 
done  for  mee,  and  nowe  shee  has  extinguisht  my  life  as  I 
70  this  light. 

H  O  how 


[54]  The  Fleire. 

O  ho\v  obedient  was  my  bountie,  still 
To  her  commaund  ?  my  liberal itie 
Did  fatten  mischiefe,  and  hath  made  her  prowde  : 
O  that  too  much  of  any  thing  shuld  be  so  ill  in  euery  thing 
75  The  Suns  all  seeng  eye,  with  too  much  vntemperate  heate 
makes  wither  what  it  made  to  flourish. 
The  earth  being  mother  to  all  wholsome  hearbes, 
With  too  much  fatnesse  oft  produceth  weedes. 
A  sute  of  cloath  doth  keepe  the  bodie  warme, 
80  When  richer  garments  makes  the  wearer  proude. 
O,  the  meanes  the  sweetest  Musicke  ; 
Contentment  reuels  when  that  string  is  toucht  ; 
But  O,  the  time  will  come  she  will  repent 
My  death  :  for  when  she  lookes  on  vices  face 
85  Vnmaske  like  mine  ;  she  will  detest  and  loath  it. 
For  this  is  truth  ond  euermore  hath  bin, 
«  Xone  can  forsake  before  he  knowes  his  sinne,  Exit. 

Enter  Fleir,  Sparke,  and  Ruffell. 

Fie.   Come,    come,   thou   didst  but  dreame  thou  wert  in 
QO  hell. 

Sp  :   I  tell  thee  I  was  in  hell. 
Ruff.  And  so  was  I  too,  He  be  sworne. 
Fie.  And  how  long  was't  ere  thou  earnest  thither  ? 
Sp.   Me  thought  t'was  long,  as  long  as  a  suit  hangs  here 
g5  in  the  Law  ere  it  be  ended. 

Fie  :  But  I  prethee  how  broad  was  the  way  to  hell  ? 
Sp  :  As  broad  as  the  space  between  two  lines  in  a  Chaun- 
cerie  bill. 

Fie.  O  sir,  there's  the  conscience  on't  say  the  Plaintiffe  be 
loo  in  one  line,  and  the  defendant  in  an  other,  they  being  ene 
mies,  wer't  either  conscience  or  honestie  in  the  Clearke 
to  thrust  them  no  neare  to  gither,  that  they  might  goe  to- 
gither  by  th'eares  ?  but  yfaith  what  good  fellowship  was 
there  in  hell  ? 

io5      Sp  :  O  the  diuels  are  excellent  companions,   theile  drink 
your  Dutch  captains,  or  Court  Ladies  spunges. 

Fie.  Wljo 


The  Fleire.  [55] 

Fie  :  Who  didst  see  there  ? 

Sp.    Faith  I  saw  the  foure  sonnes  of  Aymon  and  they  were 
Porters  euer  since  there  was  a  companie  made  of  am. 
no      Fie.   Why  are  there  a  companie  of  Porters  in  hell  ? 
Sp,   O  I,  the  Diuels  are  but  our  Apesman. 
Fie,  But  didst  thou  see  more  of  them  that  were  damn'd  ? 
Sp.   Yes,  I   sawe   a   Citizen    damn'd    for    refusing    a   de 
sperate   debt,    because   t'was   tendred   him   on  a  Sabboth. 
n5      Fie,   I  hope   wee   shall    haue  no   more   Citizens  damn'd 
for  that  fault. 

Spat-.  There  was  a  poore  mercinarie  woman  damn'd 
because  shee  forsooke  her  Trade,  and  turnd  Puri- 
tane. 

120  Fie.  And  good  reason,  why  coulde  not  shee  haue 
kept  her  Trade  and  beene  a  Puritane,  as  well  as 
a  Puritane  keepe  her  Religion,  and  yet  bee  of  her 
Trade  ? 

Spar.  There   was  a    Ladie   damn'd   because    shee    neuer 
125  painted  :   a   Puritane   for    saying    Grace    without    turning 
vppe    the    white     of   his    eyes  :   A   Tailer   for   neuer    ha- 
uing    scabbie    fingers    :    A    Vintner     for    making    greate 
two    pennie-woorths    of  Sugar.    But    there   was    a    Innes 
of  Court  man  damn'd,  and  I  was  sorie  for  him. 
i3o      Fie.  Why  was  he  damn'd  ? 
Sp  :  Alas  for  a  small  fault. 
Fie.   I  prethe  what  wast  ? 

Spar :  For  hauing  alwayes  money  in  his  purse. 
Fie.  Were  there  no  Lawyers  in  hell  ? 

1 35  Spar.  There  were  none  of  your  great  Lawyers  as  your 
Serieants,  and  Benchers,  for  they  take  counsaile  of 
too  manie  good  Angells  to  come  there  :  but  your  young 
punie  Lawyers,  they  were  in  swarmes  like  Gnats  in 
Summer. 
140  Fie,  Why  are  there  so  manie  of  them  there  ? 

Sp.  Alas  man  they  seldom  conuerse  with  a  good  Angell 
scarce  once  in  a  whole  Michaelmasse  Tearme,  and  if  a 
come  a  stayes  not  long  with  am  to  feede  these  foules, 
for  they  are  faine  to  sende  am  away  strayght  to 

Ht  pay 


[56]  The  Fleire. 

145  pay  for  the  feeding  of  their  Horses,  there  was  a  Chamber- 
maide  damb'd  for  keeping  her  virginitie  till  shee  was  mar- 
ryed,  and  there  were  many  Soldiers  damb'd  for  saying 
their  prayers  when  they  were  drunke. 

Fie  :  But  what  didst  thou  see  in  hell  ? 

i5o  Ruff,  O,  I  sawe  a  Scriuener  damb'd  for  procuring  a 
Gentleman  money  Gratis,  but  I  came  in  an  excellent 
time. 

Fit,  What  time  wa'st  ? 

Ruff,    In    a    gossipping    time,   for    Proserpina  was  newlie 
1 55  brought  a  bed  of  two  twins. 

Fl  :  Two  twins !  what  were  they  ? 

Ruff,  A  Sergeant  and  a  Yeoman,  but  shee  has  put  them 
out  to  nurse. 

Fie,  I  prithee  where  ? 

160  Ruff :  Faith  at  the  Counter  in  Wood-street,  and  the  slaues 
will  sucke  alreadie  like  little  Horsleaches. 

Fl  :  But  when  will  she  haue  am  home,  that  shee  may  be 
rid  of  am. 

Ruff  :  Faith  shee's  an  vnnaturall  Mother,  shee  cares  not 
i65  greatlie  if  they  neuer  come  home,  but  the  deuill  their  Fa 
ther  hee  loues  am  well,  heele  haue  am  home  againe  ere 
long. 

Fie  :  Which  is  the  elder  Brother  ? 

Ruff,  O  the  Sergeant,   the   Deuill  allowes   him    the  bet- 
170  ter  maintenance,   for  hee  has  more  to  the  dressing  of  his 
meate. 

Fie.  Well,   Gentlemen,    since    by    the    heauens  pleasure 
I  haue  bin  appointed  to  saue  your  Hues,  let  mee   intreate 
you  to  keepe  your  selues  secret  till  the  sequell  of  this  act- 
175  ion  shall  neede  your  presence. 

Ruff  \  Come  lets  goe,   weele   onely   follow   your   directi- 
ons-  Exeunt. 


Enter 


The  Fleire.  [67] 

Enter  tivo  Judges  with  their  traine,  and 

sit  downe. 

180      laylor.    VVil't    please    yee    haue    the    prisoners    brought 
foorth  ? 

Caius.    Wee    can    doe    nothing    till    wee    heare    from 
Doctor    Ferrio,    to    knowe    his    pleasure    in    these    procee 
dings. 
1 85      2.  ludges.  Was  any  man  sent  to  him  ? 

Caius,   Yes,   Fleire,    the    Lady    Floridaes    man,  which   is 
not  yet  returned. 

Enter  a  laylor. 

laylor,  Reuerend   ludges  :  heere's  a  Doctor  at  doore  de- 
190  sires  admittance. 

Caius,  Intreate  him  to  come  in. 

Enter  Fleire  like  a  Doctor. 

Fie,  Learned  Doctors,  Doctor  Ferrio  commends  him 
to  you,  and  because  sicknesse  hath  laide  so  strong  a  hand 
ig5  vpon  his  weake  decrepit  bodye,  which  dooth  detayne 
his  presence,  hee  intreates  you  to  accept  of  mee  in  his 
place,  and  as  assurance  of  his  earnest  desire  thereof,  he 
has  sent  this  well  knowne  ring  as  a  token  to  you. 

Caius.   Sir,   wee  knowe  the  ring  and  you  are  verie  wel- 
200  come,  and  so  I  pra'y  assume  his  place. 

laylor,    Is    it    your    pleasure    the    Prisoners    be    brought 
footh. 

Caius,  I,  both  of  them. 

Enter  Piso  Knight,  two  Ladies,  two  wenches,  Nan  and  Sue,  Pe- 
ao5  toune,  Fromaga. 

Caius.    My    Lord,   you  are  heere    indited    of   a    hateful  1 
crime,  &  I  am  verie  sorry  to  see  you  in  this  sort  stand  here. 

H  3  Pis,  Thr 


[58]  The  Fleire. 

Pis.  Thrice  Reuerend  Judges,  and  therefore  honored 
Lords,  I  must  confesse,  that  like  a  skilfull  dancer,  I  haue 
210  truely  footed  folly,  yet  like  a  learner  in  my  course  of  life, 
trod  much  out  of  measure,  I  haue  liu'd  like  an  vnbackt  colt 
proud  and  wanton,  my  tree  of  life  hath  borne  more  leaues 
then  fruite,  I  neuer  was  deboash'd  &  steard  away  my  daies 
enen  in  a  see  of  sinne. 

2i5  Caius,  And  in  that  sea  my  Lord,  you  bore  so  great  a 
saile  as  you  haue  ouer  set  your  barke  of  life,  and  heere  you 
are  accused  my  Lord,  euen  of  a  hatefull  crime,  so  is  the 
Knight  there  for  poisoning  two  Gentlemen,  Sparke  and 
JRu/el,  how  doe  you  answere  this  my  Lord  ? 
220  Pis.  Alas  my  Lord,  this  is  soone  answered,  for  though 
that  I  haue  surfeited  on  sinne,  yet  haue  I  not  bin  drunke 
with  blood. 

Caius  :  What  say  you  Knight  ? 

Kni :  The  crime  is  great  I  must  confesse  my  Lord,  but  I 
225  am  sure  the  proofe  can  be  but  little. 

Cai  :   Ladies  you  know  moste,   and  therefore  tis  fittest 
most  you  speake. 

•Fl.  Why  then  my  Lord,  this  is  all  we  can  say,  this  Lord 
and  knight  feasted  diuers  of  vs  their  friendes,  but  foure  of 
23o  vs  he  drench'd  with  such  a  dramme  which  soone  made  two 
discharge  the  debt  they  owd  to  nature. 
Pis.  O  conscience  wonldst  thou  giue  me  leaue  ! 
Fal  :  And  wee  no  doubt  my  Lordes,  had  long  ere  this 
breath'd  out  our  Hues  like  them  but  that  we  had  the  lesser 
235  quantitie,    for   being    esteemed    the    weaker    vessels,    they 
thought  the  lesser  blow  would  breake  vs. 
Kni  :  O  had  not  death  arrested  me. 

Fit  :  Why  then  my  Lord,  wee  thus  must  now  proceede, 
they  that  spilt  innocent  blood  themselues  must  bleed  ;  but 
240  Ladies  I  haue  heard  you  had  a  man  cald  Fleire,  what's  be 
come  of  him  ? 

Flo  :  He  was  sent  to  Doctor  Ferrio,  and  we  neuer  saw  him 
since. 

Fl,  Doe  you  know  his  hand  Ladies? 
245      Fel.  Very  well. 

Fie,  I  pray  looke  heere  then. 

Flo.  This 


The  Fleire.  [5g] 

Flo  :  This  is  his  hand  indeede. 
Pel.  I  very  perfectly  doe  know  it  to  be  his, 
Fie  Why  then  vppon  this  hand  I  heare  arrest  you  both, 
vpon  your  hues. 
25o      Both.  Who,  wee? 

Fie,  I,  you  Ladies,  my  Lord  I  pray  you,  reade  this  letter. 
Cai  :  Reuerend  Judges,  God  wil  by  some  meanes  punish 
euerie  sinne,  and  though  against  my  will,  yet  by  my  consci 
ence   I   am   enforced  to   vnmaske  my  Ladies  vilianies,  the 
255  murther  for  which  the   Lord  and  Knight  are  like  to  die, 
was  first  plotted  by  them  :  the  two  Pages  with  my  selfe  did 
heare  it  :  the  Prisoners  in  this  action,  are  inforc't  by  Sacra 
ment  to  be  secret,  and  thus  intreating  heauen  in  Justice, 
still  to  ayde  you.  Yours  Fleere  a  Florentine. 
260      Caius  Is  this  true  my  Lord  ? 

2,  ludg,  They  are  sworne  not  to  reueale  it. 
Fie,  But  being  reueald  they  may  amrme  it. 
Both  :  Tis  too  true  my  Lord. 
Fie,  Where  are  the  Pages  ? 
265      Both,  Heere  my  Lord. 

Fie.  How  say  you  boyes  to  this  letter  ? 
Both,  The  letter  speakes  nothing  but  the  truth. 
Fie  :  Wei  Ladies,  then  we  heere  pronounce  this  sentence 
that  you  must  die  among  the  rest. 

2^0      Flo,  You  powers  deuine,  I  know  doe  plainely  see, 
Heauens  starrie  eyes  sees  all  our  villanie  : 
And  God  in  lustice  murther  will  reueale, 
But  were  I  now,  my  life  for  to  beginne, 
Ide  be  an  honest  wife  to  you,  wherefore  forgiue  me  deerest 
2y5  Lord. 

Pis,  Lady,  I  doe  euen  as  I  hope  to  be  forgiuen. 
Fel  Show  mercy  heauen,  my  sinnes  doe  thee  offend, 
Theres  non  can  say  hee's  happie  till  his  end ; 
Forgiuenesse  Knight  and  since  the  law  on  vs, 
280  Hath  laid  so  strickt  a  hand,  O  let  me  be 
Thy  wife  before  I  die,  and  were  I  now 
A  thousand  yeares  to  Hue,  I  would  be  honest 
Louing  none  but  thee. 

KH 


[60]  The  Fleire. 

Kni.  I  doe  forgiue  you  Lady  with  my  soule. 
285  Enter  a  Messenger  with  Letters  to  Piso. 

Mes.  Long  liue  my  honored   Lord  and  mighty  Duke   of 
Florence. 

Pis,  So  a  will,  as  long  as't  please  the  Hang-man. 
Mes,   My  honored   Lord,   your   Father   is   deceased,   and 
290  the  state  of  Florence  by  me  hath  sent  their  Letters  and  al 
legiance. 

Pis.   Let  them   call  backe  the  banisht    Signior  Antifront 

whome  they  &  we,  and  al  haue  wrong'd  :  O  could  I  Hue  but 

to  inquire  him  out,  in  satisfaction  of  his  wronges,  ide  marry 

2g5  his  eldest  Daughter,  and  whilst  a  liu'd  a  should  be  restored 

to  his  estate,  but  O  hee's  

Fleire  showes  himself e  to  be  Antifront, 
Fie.  Heere  my  Lord. 

I  taxe  you  to  your  word,  Signior  Antifront  yet  Hues, 
3oo  And  heeres  his  elder  Daughter  whome  himselfe 

But  now  condemn'd  to  die  :  and  heeres  the  younger 
Left  for  you,  the  poisoned  men  are  heere  aliue  againe, 
Who  did  but  dreame  of  death,  but  yet  doe 
Liue  t'  enrich  a  nuptiall  bed  to  you  two, 
3o5  And  now  since  euerie  thing  so  well  doth  sort, 
Let  all  be  pleas'd  in  this  our  comicke  sport, 
Where's  Petoune  ?  he  shal  haue  his  Mistris  too, 
He  most  deserues,  for  he  did  hotly  woe, 
If  we  part  friendes,  your  hands  vnto  vs  lend, 
3io  What  was  not  well,  weele  next  striue  to  amend. 

Exeunt.  Omnes 


FINIS. 


ANMERKUNGEN. 


To  the  Reader  etc. 

p.  [3] 

8.  laugh  and  lie  downe  :  Anspielung  auf  ein  beliebtes  Kartenspiel 
jener  Zeit  :  '  laugh  and  lay  down '.  Vgl.  die  ahnlichen  Scherze  bei 
Middleton,  «  Blurt,  Master-Const.  »  III,  I,  79(11.  Anm.),  «  Michaelmas 
Term  »  IV,  i,  81.  —  20.  Falsche  Apostrophierung  wie  bei  diuul'gd 
(=  diuulg'd)  ist  im  Fl.  sehr  haufig  :  vgl.  z.  B.  i'st  =  is't ;  f  is  =  't  is 
u.  a.  m.  — 

P.  W 

29.  modicum  :  vgl.  Shakesp.  Tr.  and  Cr.  II,  i,  74  :  '  What  modicums 
of  wit  he  utters  ! '  (O.  D.).  — 

I.  Akt. 

p.  [5] 

Die  erste  Scene  zeigt  einen  —  allerdings  haufig  unterbrochenen  - 
jambischen  Rhythmus.  Gleich  die  ersten  Worte  des  Lords  lassen  sich 
als  tadellose  Blankverse  skandieren,  und  auch  in  den  Reden  Anti- 
fronts  tauchen  viele  Blankverse  auf ;  vgl.  9  :  Florece  bis  Maiestie  ; 
ii  :  Besides  bis  right ;  16  :  And  bis  pace ;  24  :  all  bis  cause.  Auch  spater 
finden  wir  im  Fl.  viele  Ansatze  zu  einer  Versifikation  des  Textes  ;  so 
lassen  sich  an  folgenden  Stellen  deutlich  Blankverse,  bezw.  Reim- 
verse  erkennen  :  .(,  5i  (i  Blv.)  ;  64  :  strangelye  bis  state  (i  Blv.) ; 
II,  509  bis  5i3  :  repentant  bis_y0w  (5  Blv.);  619  ff.  :  they  wake  bis  thought. 
(2  Blv.  mit  epischer  Caesur  im  zweiten  :  but  would  you  love  me).  Auch 
die  folgenden  Worte  bis  '  in'  liefern  das  von  Sharph.  offenbar  beab- 
sichtigte  Schlusscouplet,  wenn  wir  die  erste  Zeile  (flit  this  life...)  mit 
fehlendem  Auftakt  skandieren;  III,  226  ff.  :  kinde  bis  lure  (3  Blv.); 
235  f.  :  and  bis  lust  (i  Blv.).  IV,  y5  ff.  '.your  gift  bis  its  [=  it]  (2  Blv.) ; 
78  f.  :  And  I  bis  do  (2  Blv.)  ;  die  Schlussworte  (79  f.)  bilden  einen 
Alexandriner  ;  82  :  and  bis  daunce  (i  Blv.) ;  88  f .  :  Alas  bis  too  (2  Blv.) ; 
101  :  Nay  bis  said  (i  Blv.) ;  io5  ff.  :  wee  bis  vsed  (i  Blv.) ;  die  Schluss 
worte  by  bis  brude  bilden  einen  Alexandriner;  no  (i  Blv.) ;  n3 (i  Blv. ; 


62 

die  Schreibung  fort  scheint  anzudeuten,  dass  der  Verfasser  einen 
Vers  beabsichtigte).  ii5  f.  :  Lei  bis  blood  (2  Blv.) ;  auch  hier  schrieb 
Shai-pham  though' t  fur  though  it,  urn  einen  Vers  herzustellen ;  i32  f.  : 
In  bis  way  (i  alexandrin.  Eeimpaar,  vom  Dichter  gewollt,  wie  die 
Wiederholung  des  Wortes  '  mingle  '  beweist ;  nur  C  hat  die  Wieder- 
holung  gestrichen  und  dadurch  den  Vers  verdorben) ;  V,  67  if.  :  Pisos 
Monolog  beginnt  mit  2  regelrechten  Blv.  ;  ausserdem  lasst  sich  Z.  65 
als  Blv.  skandieren  ;  71  bis  73  (3  Blv.) ;  77  bis  80  (4  Blv.) ;  82  bis  85 
(4  Blv.) ;  wahrend  die  beiden  Schlusszeilen  (86  f.)  in  beliebter  Weise 
ein  heroisches  Reimpaar  bilden  ;  208  f.  bis  dancer  :  lassen  sich  als 
2  Blv.  skandieren  ;  212  f.  :  my  tree  bis  away  (2  Blv.) ;  224  f.  :  The  crime 
bis  little  (2  Blv.) ;  233  f.  :  And  wee  bis  we  had  (2  Blv.) ;  238  f.  :  Why  bis 
bleed  (2  Blv.,  wenn  wir  skandieren  inn' cent)  ;  270  bis  273  :  You  bis 
beginne  (4  Blv.) ;  277  ff.  :  Show  mercy  bis  honest  (6  Blv.) ;  284  (i  Blv.) ; 
3o3  f.  :  Who  did  bis  Line  (i  Blv.) ;  3o5  bis  Schluss  (3  heroische  Reim- 
paare).  —  n.  Die  Satzlogik  liesse  erwarten  :  '  then  to  a  meaner  man 
the  loss  of  all '.  —  i3.  feate  :  Lies  seate.  —  i5.  feaz'd  :  Lies  seaz'd  = 
seiz'd.  —  21.  Lies  :  Farwell !  Some...  —  23.  to  :  '  allzu '  (vgl.  C  :  too). 
-  25.  cuor  forte  etc.  :  Prov.  Tosc.  88  (vgl.  Tommaseo  e  Bellini, 
Dizionario  della  Lingua  Italiana,  Torino  1861,  vol.  I,  s.  v.  cuore  47).  — 

p.  [6] 

38.  In  C  D  :  commanded  to  seeke  etc. ;  vgl.  Fr(anz),  Sh(akespeare) 
Gr(ammatik)  p.  368.  —  3g.  letter  law  :  '  buchstabliches  Gesetz'.  - 
40.  In  D  :  then  to  be  killed  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  368.  —  45.  D  :  suffer 
the  needy  to  perish ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  368  f.  —  48.  her  :  beauty 
wurde  oft  als  Femin.  gebraucht;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  56.  —  49.  tide  = 
tied.  —  5i.  resolutions  :  pluralisch  gebrauchtes  Abstraktum  ;  vgl.  Fr. 
Sh.  Gr.  §  38.  —  hath  :  in  plural.  Funktion  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  21.  — 
58.  Vor  '  content'  fehlt  '  Flo  '.  - 

P.  [7] 

In  der  folgenden  Scene  hat  man  sich  den  Gentleman  zuerst  als  auf 
der  Strasse  befindlich  zu  denken  ;  er  tritt  dann  in  den  Teil  der  Biihne, 
der  das  Haus  der  Schwestern  darstellt,  und  in  dem  sich  Fromaga 
auf  halt.  —  65.  a  :  i.  e.  he,  im  Fl.  sehr  haufig.  Vor  diesen  Worten 
der  Fromaga  haben  wir  (aside)  zu  erganzen,  eine  Biihnenanweisung, 
die  in  den  alten  Drucken  sehr  oft  fehlt.  —  69.  'am  :  i.  e.  them  ;  eine 
im  dramatischen  Dialog  hin  und  wieder  auftretende,  nachlassige 
Form.  —  71.  lohn  Hauelittle  :  ein  Etikettenname.  —  75.  I  pray  :  in 


63 

diesem  pray  ist  jedenfalls  das  Pron.  you  oder  ye  aufgegangen 
(prayye  >  pray'e  >  pray) ;  so  wiirde  auch  die  haufig  (z.  B.  I,  196)  auf- 
tretende  Form  pra'y  erkliirt,  die  beim  Schreiber  (Setzer?)  das  Bewusst- 
sein  einer  Kontamination  auszwei  Wortern  voraussetzt. —  80.  inward  : 
i.  e.  intimate  ;  hier  obsconer  Nebensinn  ;  vgl.  Marst.  «  Dutch  Court. » 
III,  3,  54,  wo  das  Wort  denselben  Nebensinn  tragt.  —  82  f.  Vgl. 
Jons's.  E.  M.  out  of  III,  i  (Works  II,  p.  99)  :  Fungoso  fragt  :  «  have 
you  a  pair  of  tables  ? »  Dazu  Anm.  :  '  ...i.  e.  a  pocket-book,  for  taking 
memorandums  '.  Vgl.  auch  a.  a.  O.  p.  86.  —  85.  pin  :  Griffel.  — 
g5.  band  :  Halskrause.  - 

p.  [8] 

97.  were  :  i.  e.  wear.  —  99.  hatch'd  :  mit  Edelmetall  ausgelegt ; 
vgl.  Marst.  «  What  you  Will  »  V,  i,  3g  u.  Anm.  —  101.  his  Ladyships  : 
fur  his  lies  her  ;  man  wiirde  aber  their  erwarten,  weil  es  sich  um 
zwei  Damen  handelt.  C  :  her.  —  io3.  linde  :  i.  e.  lined  gefiittert,  ver- 
bramt.  —  104.  tis  of  a  good  depth  in  :  nicht  nur  die  ausseren,  sichtba- 
ren  Aufschlage  des  Rockes  sind  gefiittert,  sondern  auch  das  bei 
offenem  Rocke  noch  sichtbare  Stiick  der  Innenseite,  und  zwar  soweit 
(good  depth),  dass  Fromaga  sogar  annimmt,  die  ganze  Innenseite  sei 
gefiittert  (linde  through).  —  io5  f.  In  obsconem  Sinn  gemeint.  Alle 
Bemerkungen  der  wiirdigen  Duenna  sind  voll  Zweideutigkeiten, 
deren  Hervorhebung  wir  uns  bei  ihrer  Deutlichkeit  wohl  ersparen 
durfen.  —  107.  hangers  :  vgl.  O.  D.  (s.  v.  c.  4  b)  :  4  A  loop  or  strap  on 
a  sword-belt  from  which  the  sword  was  hung  ;  often  richly  orna 
mented  '.  —  109.  in  trouble  :  verpfandet.  —  114.  Birlady  :  <  by'r  lady 
(vgl.  Haml.  II,  2,  445)  <  by  our  lady.  --  i32.  Kisse  your  hand  :  es 
bestand  die  Sitte,  Hoherstehende  (vgl.  Shsp.  2  Ho  IV,  i,  53)  und 
Damen  durch  das  Kiissen  der  eigenen  Hand  zu  begriissen  ;  vgl.  Fl.  II, 
226,359,429;fernerShakesp.z.B.  L.  L.L.V,2,324;  All's  W.  11,2, 10.  — 

p.  w 

134.  beholding  :  verpflichtet ;  vgl.  Fl.  II,  438  sowie  die  haufige 
Anwendung  im  selben  Sinne  bei  Shakesp.  (Z.  B.  Caes.  Ill,  2,  70  u. 
72) ;  cf.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  14.  —  140.  Innes  Court  (vgl.  C  :  Innes  of  Court) ; 
Gerichtshalle,  Rechtskollegium.  —  i56.  tongues  :  das  folg.  Gesprach 
erklart  den  Ausdruck.  —  169.  pra'y  :  i.  e.  pray  you  (ye) ;  cf.  Anm. 
zu  I,  75.  - 

p.  [10] 

175  f.  countenance  :  i.  e.  patronage  ;  vgl.  Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  III,  i 
(Works  II,  p.  106)  :  «  Sogliardo.  You  will  not  serve  me,  sir,  will  you  ? 


64 

I'll  giue  you  more  than  countenance  ».  —  179  ff.  Gent,  versteht  das 
Wort  countenance  im  alltaglichen  Sinne  (Gesicht,  Aussehen),  und 
From,  geht  auf  den  Scherz  ein.  —  198.  suter  :  i.  e.  suitor.  —  204.  a 
was  a  man  for  a  woman  :  vgl.  Marst.  «  Dutch.  Court.  »  I,  I,  42  :  «  All 
things  are  made  for  man  and  man  for  woman  »  und  Sharph.  C.  Wh. 
(cf.  oben,  Einl.  p.  87) :  «  O  women,  were  we  not...  made  for  ye...  ?  »  — 
2o5  ff.  Genau  derselbe  Gedanke  in  annahernd  gleichem  Wortgewande 
bei  Shakesp.  i  H4  I,  3,  33  ff. ;  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  22. 

p.  [11] 

212.  Lies  :  courts  (wie  in  C) ;  Ladies  :  «  Spare  not...  Nan  karikiert 
im  folgenden  die  derbe  Art  und  Weise,  wie  Sir  John  Hauelittle  feinen 
Damen  den  Hof  macht.  —  2i3  f.  Lies  :  ile  vse  yours  :  Women  to  bear, 
Birds  to  flye.  —  214.  Lies  :  swimme  »,  etc.  —  2i5.  Lies  :  and  then 
sweares  :  «  By  my...  —  216.  Lies  :  thing  »,  and...  Die  von  Nan  zitierten 
Worte  Hauelittles  umfassen  den  Passus  von  By  my  coscience  bis  thing 
incl.,  wahrend  der  Vergleich  des  Geldes  .mit  einer  Dime  von  Nan 
gezogen  wird.  —  227.  durt  :  i.  e.  dirt.  —  228.  so  :  Drf.  fur  his  (vgl.  his 
in  D).  —  282.  Pray'  heaven  :  der  Apostroph  ist  in  diesem  Fall  als 
Druckfehler  anzusehen.  — 

p.  [12] 

243.  Knight  :  i.  e.  Sir  John  Hauelittle.  —  Petoune  ist  zweifellos  ein 
Etikettenname,  der  das  innige  Verhaltnis  seines  Tragers  zum  Tabak 
illustrieren  soil.  Denn  mit  petoun  oder  patoun  bezeichnete  man  in  jener 
Zeit  eine  besondere  Form  des  Tabaks,  namlich  solchen,  der  in  ange- 
feuchtetem  Zustande  zu  einer  kuchenahnlichen  Gestalt  zusammenge- 
presst  wurde.  Literarisch  ist  das  Wort  ausser  in  dem  hier  vorliegenden- 
Namen  m.  W.  nur  noch  in  Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  belegt  (IV,  4; 
Works  II,  p.  i32).  Dort  heisst  es  :  «  they  have  hired  a  chamber...  for 
the  making  of  patoun)).  Dazu  die  Anm.  des  Herausgebers  :  «... Patoun 
I  have  never  met  with  elsewhere,  nor  can  I  pretend  to  determine  its 
precise  meaning  here.  Patons,  in  French,  are  those  small  pellets  of 
paste  with  which  poultry  are  crammed  :  making  of  the  patoun  may 
therefore,  be  moulding  tobacco,  which  was  then  always  cut  small, 
into  some  fantastic  or  fashionable  form  for  the  pipe  »*O.  Df  bemerkt 
s.  v.  petun  :  A  native  South  American  name  of  tobacco,  formerly  par 
tially  in  English  use  ;  vgl.  besonders  das  Zitat  bei  1600-14  •'  '.Petun 
[erron.  Puten]  ...Tobacco  cald,  most  soveraigne  herbe  approved,  And 
nowe  of  every  gallant  greatly  loved  '.  —  265.  diuine  smoke  :  vgl. 


66 

Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  III,  3  (Works  II,  p.  121)  :  «  here's  most  divine 
tobacco  !  »  —  276  bis  284  :  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  pp.  16  f. 

p.  [i3] 

288.  Pes.  :  Drf.  fur  Pet.  —  Gentlewomen  :  seltsamer  Drf.  fiir  Gentle 
men.  Derselbe  Fehler  tritt  in  den  vier  Quartos  des  Fl.  nicht  weni- 
ger  als  dreizehnmal  auf  (vgl.  I,  288  B  C  D  ;  I,  299  A  B  C  D  ;  I,  642 
A  B  C  D  ;  IV,  5;  D,  sowie  den  umgekehrten  Fall  II,  346).  «  291  ff. 
Petoune  hat  die  brennrote  Nase  von  Shakespeares  Bardolph  geerbt 
(i  HU  III,  3,  27  ff.).  —  296.  snuffe  :  to  take  something  in  s.  iiberetwas 
verschnupft,  aufgebracht  sein.  —  296.  doy'  :  i.  e.  do  you,  do  ye 
(vgl.  D  :  do'y).  —  299.  Gentlewomen  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  288.  —  3o3.  of: 
jetzt  to  bestow  on,  upon.  —  304  f.  Nan  spielt  mit  dem  Doppelsinn  von 
favour  :  «  Gunst »  und  «  Anmut  ».  —  307.  Cheape  :  auf  den  Doppel 
sinn  von  dear  beziiglich.  —  3i3.  Nicht  entmutigt  durch  den  von  Nan 
erhaltenen  Korb,  wendet  sich  Petoune  jetzt  an  Susan.  —  3i5.  tit  : 
Drf.  fur  it  (vgl.  BCD:  it).  —  317.  I  :  i.  e.  Ay  « ja  ».  - 

P-  [Hi 

335.  Vgl.  I,  3o6.  —  342.  Gentlewomen  :  in  A  (Brit.  Mus.)  ist  an  dieser 
Stelle  —  women  mit  Tinte  durchstrichen  und  durch  —  men  ersetzt 
worden;  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  288. — 346.  blind- man-buffe  :  Blindekuhspiel. 

—  bob'd  gehanselt.  —  347.  please  you  take  :  personl.  Konstruktion 
von  please  mit  reinem  Infin. ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  473.  —  347.  Dass 
auch  Dameii   von  gallanten  Herren   eine   Tabakspfeife   angeboten 
wurde,   scheint  in   jener  Zeit  durchaus   nicht   selten   gewesen  zu 
sein.  Vgl.  z.  B.  Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  III,  3  (Works  II,  p.  121),  wo 
Fastidious  einer  Dame  mit  folgenden  Worten  Tabak  anbietet  :  «  Will 
your  ladyship  take  any  ?»  Vgl.  ferner  J.  Payne  Collier  (Hist.  Engl. 
Dram.  Poetry  III,  p.  416),  der  feststellt,  dass  um  1602  Frauen  rauch- 
ten  ;  zum  Beweise  fiihrt  er  eine  Stelle  aus  Dekkers  «  Satiromastix  »  an. 
Auch  Prynne  berichtet  im  «  Histriomastix  »  (vgl.  Collier  ib.  p.  363 
Anm.),  dass  Damen  were  sometimes  'offered  the  tobacco  pipe'.  —  349.  He 
beginne  to  her  :  Ruffel  tut  zuerst  einige  Ziige  aus  der  Susan  angebo- 
tenen  Pfeife  und  entdeckt,  dass  sie  leer  ist.  —  (tab)  :  unklar ;  jeden- 
falls,  da  in  Klammern  stehend,  Regienote,  vielleicht  Abkiirzung  von 
tabacco,  einer  alten  Nebenform  von  tobacco.  — 

p.  [i5] 

374.  hees  :  lies  h'is.  —  378.  to  be  take  in  snuff :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  2g5. 
-  38i.  pra'y  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  1, 75.  —  385.  Nost :  Drf.  (vgl.  Most  in  B  C  D). 

—  390  bis  413.  Vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  16  f. 


66 

p.  [16] 

400.  censing  :  riiuchernd.  —404.  squibs  :  Feuerwerkskorper,  scherz- 
hafter  Ausdruck  fiir  Pfeife.  —  405.  smoke-squirts  :  Rauchspritze.  - 
417.  thar't  :  fehlerhafte  Apostrophierung  fiir  thou  art.  —  combe  :  i.  e. 
coxcombe?—  421.  God  bewe  :  zweifellos  God  be  with  ye;  vgl.  god- 
bwye,  god  b'uy  und  ahnliche  Formen  dieses  Grusses  im  16.  und  17. 
Jahrhundert  (O.  D.).  —  480.  thrung'd  out  :  vgl.  to  throng  out  hinaus- 
drangen.  - 

p.  [17] 

489.  Ide  :  i.  e.  I  should.  —  440  bis  446.  Vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  17.  —446. 
Wohl  eine  Anspielung  auf  die  Kunstfertigkeit  der  Venetianer  in  der 
Glasfabrikation. —  447.  Lies  :  too.  —  Erganze  (Aside)  vor  :  O  are  you... 
—  449.  wonnot  :  i.  e.  will  not ;  vgl.  I  won't  <  me.  I  wol  not.  —  swag 
ger  :  renommieren,  prahlen.  —  45r.  walking  spur  etc.  :  die  Sporen 
waren  oft  ungescharft  und  blosser  Zierrat ;  vgl.  auch  Fl.  II,  166  ff., 
Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  II,  i  u.  II,  2  (Works  II,  p.  48  mit  Anm.  u.  p.  80 
mit  Anm.)  und  Marst.'s  «  Malcont.  »  I,  3,  29  mit  Anm.  —  466.  mad 
fellowe  wil  etc. :  Auslassung  des  Nom. des  Relat.-Pron. ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. 
§  2i5.  —  462.  who  fiir  whom  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  201  und  dieselbe  Er- 
scheinung  in  464,  466.  —  467.  he  fiir  him  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  144.  - 

p.  [18] 

481.  poyson  :  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  17  f.  —  486  bis  491.  Vgl.  Anm.  zu  I, 
440-446.  —  496.  them  :  Ruffel  und  Spark.  — 

II.  Akt. 

4.  that  :  i.  e.  that  which  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  i65  f .  -  7  ff.  momen- 
tarie  bis  come  :  vgl.  Shakesp.  R.  J.  II,  2,  119  f.,  M.  N.  Dr.  I,  i,  148  ff.  - 

P-  [19] 

ii.  boord  wages  :  Kostgeld.  —  12.  on't  :  of  it ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. 
p.  232.  —  19.  men  :  i.  e.  servingmen.  —  20.  Fryers...  puts  :  (vgl.  BCD: 
put).  Wahrscheinlich  ist  zu  lesen  Fryer  ;  in  den  folgenden  Satzen  ist 
immer  nur  von  einem  Frater  die  Rede,  weshalb  die  Anderung  zu  put 
in  den  spateren  Drucken  den  Schaden  nicht  heilt.  —  24.  Say  :  i.  e. 
suppose  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  4i3,  a  3.  —  a'm  :  i.  e.  them.  —  27.  hugger 
mugger  :  '  im  Geheimen ' ;  vgl.  Haml.  IV,  5,  84,  sowie  Max  Miiller 
«  Die  Reim-  und  Ablautkomposita  des  Engl.  »  (Strassb.  09),  p.  25.  — 
29.  Suburbian  :  vgl  Marst.  «  Malcont.  »  V,  3,  2o5  u.  Anm.  —  Baw'd : 


67 

i.  e.  bawd.  — 3i.  for  two  pence  :  Two-penny  room  nannte  man  die  Gal- 
lerie;  zu  Jons.'sE.M.  out  of,  Induction  (Works  1 1,  p.  24,  Anm.),  ist  vom 
Hrsgbr.  folgende  Stelle  aus  Dekker  (Belman's  Night  Walk)  angefuhrt : 
«  Pay  your  ^two-pence  to  a  player,  and  you  may  sit  in  the  gallery  »  ; 
vgl.  Middleton  «  A  Mad  World  »  etc.  V,  2,  36  ff.  :  «  I  know  some  i'th' 
town  that...  took  such  a  good  conceit  of  their  parts  into  th'  two-penny 
room,  that  the  actors...  »  ;  Bullens  Anm.  zu  dieser  Stelle  verweist  auf 
deri  Prolog  zu  Beaumont  und  Fletchers  «  Woman  Hater  »  wo  von 
'  two-penny  gallery  men '  gesprochen  wird.  —  38.  yard  :  in  obsconem 
Sinn.  —  3g.  Winchester  measure  :  ein  friiher  allgemein  gultiges 
Hohlmass.  Hier  zugleich  eine  Anspielung  auf  die  unter  der  Gerichts- 
barkeit  des  Bischofs  von  Winchester  stehenden  Bordelle  in  South- 
wark  ;  vgl.  '  Winchester  goose  ',  '  Winchester  pigeon  '  Schankerbeule. 

—  41.  beastes  :  einen  ahnlichen  Vergleich   fiihrt   Marston   (Dutch 
Court.  I,  i,  119  ff.)  durch  :  «  You  will  say  beasts  take  no  money  for 
their  fleshly  entertainment,  true,  because  they  are  beasts,  therefore 
beastly ;  onely  men  give  to  loose,  because  they  are  men,  therefore 
manly... »  ;  vgl.  auch  Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  III,  i  (Works  II,  p.  96  u. 
Anm.).  — 

p.  [20] 

54.  crickee  :  i.  e.  cricket  (vgl.  C  :  cricket).  —  56.  woot  :  i.  e.  wilt ; 
vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  20  a.  —  67.  red  :  gerauchert.  —  58.  him  :  vgl.  Fr. 
Sh.  Gr.  §  5o.  —  5g.  tha'st  :  i.  e.  thou  hast.  —  63.  yeaman  :  Drf.  ?  Vgl. 
Yeoman  in  C  D.  —  ath'  :  i.  e.  at  the.  —  Jurdan  :  i.  e.  Jordan  '  Nacht- 
topf '.  — 65.  incombe  :  Eintrittsgeld,  eine  jetzt  veraltete  Bedeutung  ; 
die  b-Form  erscheint  hin  und  wieder  im  16.  Jhrh.  —  67.  lay  bis  belly  : 
'  legen  alles  auf  den  Riicken  (d.  h.  verwenden  all  ihr  Geld  auf  ihre 
Kleidung)  und  verschwenden  alles  mit  dem  Bauch'.  —67.  ath  :  i.  e. 
at  the.  —  72.  Sumner  :  i.  e.  summoner.  —  74.  Petoune  spricht  den 
Satz  nicht  laut  zu  Ende,  sondern  fliistert  dem  Fleire  die  dunkle  Pointe 
des  Witzes,  die  vermutlich  in  dem  Worte  '  bawds'  gelegen  hatte,  ins 
Ohr.  —  harke  in  thine  eare  :  diese  Formel  findet  sich  wortlich  oder 
ahnlich  auch  in  andern  Dramen  der  Zeit ;  vgl.  z.  B.  Middletons  «  A 
Mad  World  »  etc.  Ill,  2,  42.  —  75.  a  sucking  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  5o8. 

—  77.  their  heeles  so  short  :  eine  Anspielung  Fleires  auf  den  leicht- 
sinnigen  Lebenswandel  seiner  Tochter ;  vgl.  Ausdriicke  wie  short-faded 
'  liederlich  ',  a  short-heeled  wench  '  Dime  '.  Vgl.  auch  in  unserm  Stuck  II, 
i36  :  light  heeld.  -  78.  should  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §459.  —  81.  warres  :  vgl. 
Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  36.  —  Petoune  versteht  leader  im  Sinne  von  '  Anfuhrer'.— 


68 

p.  [21] 

83.  scowr'd  :  putzten.  —  peeces  :  Flinten,  Gewehre,  rnit  obscon. 
Nebensinn  ;  eine  Fortsetzung  des  doppelsinnigen  Spieles  mil  kader- 
warres  durch  scowr'd-peeces.  —  84.  wee  :  Drf.  fiir  very  ?  (vgl.  D  :  very).  - 
94.  hose  :  pluralisch,  '  Hosen '.  —  98  f.  Zitat  aus  Mario ws  «  Tambur- 
laine  »  (Part  II,  v.  8978  f.) ;  dort  ruft  Tamburlaine  seinem  mensch- 
lichen  Wagengespanne  zu  :  «  Holla,  ye  pampered  Jades  of  Asia  ! 
What  can  ye  draw  but  twenty  miles  a  day...  »  ;  vgl.  die  Bemerkungen 
Koeppels  iiber  das  Auftreten  dieses  Zitats  bei  andern  zeitgen. 
Autoren  in  «Ben  Jons.'s  Wirkg.  auf  zeitgen.  Dramatiker»  etc.  p.  12.— 
104.  belongs :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. § 620.  —  1 13 bis  i i6.Vgl.  oben,  Einl .  p.i8. — 

P-  [22] 

134.  Corks  etc.  :  vgl.  Heyw.'s  Rape  of  Lucr.  V,  p.  211  :  «  They 
weare  so  much  Corke  vnder  their  heeles  »  (O.  D.^.  —  i36bis  149.  Vgl. 
Merch.  of  Ven.  I,  i,  776°.  —  140.  Queane  :  fur  den  Zuhorer  doppelsin- 
nig  :  quean  Dime,  queen  Konigin.  —  142.  Painter  :  doppelsinnig  : 
'  Malerin ',  '  Schminkerin '.  —  i5i  bis  i55  :  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  18  f. 
—  162.  tone  :  that  one  >  the  tone  ;  tone  ohne  Artikel,  hier  attributiv 
gebraucht.  - 

p.  [23] 

i55.  Cunnie  :  i.  e.  cony  *  Kaninchen '.  —  i63.  it  :  i.  e.  its ;  vgl.  Fr. 
Sh.  Gr.  §  189.  —  166  bis  170  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  461  ;  wahrscheinlich 
enthalt  diese  Bemerkung  eine  Anspielung  auf  das  Bestreben  der 
Hoflinge,  sich  dem  Geschmack  des  neuen,  aus  Schottland  kommen- 
den  Konigs  anzupassen.  —  187.  lacke  of  a  Clocke  :  '  Uhrmannlein  ', 
'  Anschlager ',  eine  Figur,  die  in  alten  Uhren  an  die  Glocke  schlug  ; 
vgl.  Sh.  Rich.  2,  V,  5,  60 ;  Rich.  3,  IV,  2,  117.  - 

p.  [24] 

199.  be  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  16.  —  2i3.  Den  Passus  /  hope  bis  now 
spricht  Fleire  fiir  sich,  es  fehlt  die  Biihnenanweisung  '(aside).'—  218  u. 
223  :  Uber  die  Auslassung  des  unbestimmten  Artikels  nach  never  vgl. 
Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  126.  —  226.  kisse  his  hand  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  i32.  —  227. 
oft  :  Drf.  fiir  off  (vgl.  CD:  off).  - 

P.  [25] 

241.  least  :  jetzt  lest,  damit  nicht.  —  244.  Amb,  :  i.  e.  ambo.  —  246. 
a  :  =  in  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  92.  —  247.  ruffles  it  out  :  '  prahlt ',  natiir- 
lich  auf  den  Namen  des  Eintretenden  anspielend  j  iiber  ahnliche 


<*> 

Redtwendungen  mit  it  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Or.  p.  122  f.  —  Nach  silke  ist  ein 
Ausrufungszeichen  oder  ein  Punkt  erforderlich.  —  258  bis  264  : 
Anspielung  auf  die  Vereinigung  Englands  und  Schottlands  unter 
Jakob  I. ;  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  3i.  —  Die  Bogenbezeichnung  €3  ist  Drf. 
fur  Da.  - 

p.  [26] 

274.  I  did  :  erganze  :  say  so  ;  der  Sinn  verlangt  ein  Komma  nach 
turn'd.  —  286.  Vgl.  2  H4  I,  2,  33  ff.  —  291.  doy'  :  do  you.  —  296.  com 
modities  :  A  parcel  of  goods  sold  on  credit  by  a  usurer  to  a  needy 
person,  who  immediately  raised  some  cash  by  re-selling  them  at  a 
lower  price,  generally  to  the  usurer  himself.  (O.  D.  s.  v.  commodity  7b). 
Vgl.  Marst.  «  What  you  Will))  I,  i,  197  f.  u.  Anm.  dazu,  sowie 
«  Eastw.  Ho  !  »  II,  3,  242  ff.  —  3o2.  Yea  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  252.  - 

P-  [27] 

3i5.  Der  Sinn  verlangt  ein  Komma  nach  too  (vgl.  C  D).  —  327.  petti- 
lassarie :  entstellt  aus  petty  larceny  '  kleiner  Diebstahl '.  —  328.  burn'd  : 
in  obsconem  Sinn.  —  336.  as  :  i.  e.  that ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  420.  —  338. 
none  on't  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  218.—  340  ff.  Vgl.  oben,  Einl.  pp.  22  f.— 

p.  [28] 

345.  trust  :  vgl.  II,  286  ff.  —  346.  does  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  20.  - 
Gentlemen  :  auch  in  B  C  D  auftretender  Drf.  fiir  Gentlewomen  ;  dass 
ein  Drf.  vorliegt,  geht  klar  aus  Z.  334  (Gentlewomen),  Z.  349  (she)  und 
Z.  357  (Ladie)  hervor.  (Vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  288).  Als  einzige  Erklarung 
fiir  diese  und  die  unter  Anm.  zu  I,  288  genannten  Drf.  finde  ich  die 
Annahme,  dass  der  Dichter  in  dem  der  Druckerei  iibergebenen 
Manuskript  fiir  Gentlemen  und  Gentlewomen  dieselbe  Abkiirzungsform 
anwandte  (vgl.  die  in  p.  p.  7  bis  10  in  der  Angabe  der  Sprechenden 
standig,  sowie  die  I,  142  auch  im  Text  auftretende  Abbreviatur 
'  Gent. '),  die  dann  der  Setzer  oft  fehlerhaft  erganzte.  —  352.  Auslassung 
des  Relat.  Pron.  nach  dem  ersten  '  was ' ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  2i5  ;  — 
was  Knighted,  when...  wahrscheinlich  eine  Anspielung  auf  die  vielen 
Erhebungen  in  den  Ritterstand,  die  Konig  Jakob  I.  nach  seiner 
Thronbesteigung  vornahm.  —  355.  that :  i.  e.  that  which  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh. 
Gr.  §  2i5e.  —  356.  an  oath  bis  fashion  :  wahrscheinlich  eine  Anspielung 
auf  den  Erlass  Jakobs  I.  gegen  Fluchen  und  Schworen  ;  der  im  fol- 
genden  angefiihrle  Schwur  '  by  my  conscience  '  ist  so  zart  und  anstan- 
dig,  dass  er  einem  derben  Geschmack  geziert  erscheinen  konnte.  - 
358.  beseech'd  :  analogische  Neubildung  des  Part. ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. 


70 

§  6  ;  —  reiner  Infin.  nach  beseech'd  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  p.  368.  --  35g. 
kist  his  hand  ;  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  i32.  —  364  ff.  Vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  3i.— 
36g.  fleet  holes  :  Bedeutung  unklar.—  3;5.  catcht :  fur  caught,  auch  bei 
Shakesp.  mehrfach,  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  6.  —  378.  Medler  :  i.  e.  medlar 

*  Mispel' ;  im  Hinblick  auf  die  bedenkliche  Situation,  in  welche  die 
Dame  gekommen  ware,  denkt  Fleire  bei  der  Wahl  dieses  Baumes  an 
den  derben  Beinamen  seiner  Friichte  :  open-arse;  vgl.  auch  Sh.  R.  J.  II, 
i,34ff.- 

p.  [29] 

387.  Graues-ende  :  Fleire  spielt  mit  der  Bedeutung  dieses  Stadt- 
namens  ;  das  Grab  ist  allerdings  '  in  the  way  of  all  flesh '.  —  Tilt-boat : 
ein  mit  einer  Plane  bedecktes  Boot ;  bei  dem  Witzling  Fleire  haben 
wir  aber  fortwahrend  an  obscone  Nebenbedeutungen  zu  denken,  an 
Anspielungen  auf  den  Verkehr  der  jungen  Roues  mit  den  Kurtisa- 
nen.  —  397  f.  to  the  South-ward  bis  Italic  :  Anspielung  auf  die  Natio- 
nalitat  der  Schwestern.  —  3g8.  how  :  i.  e.  that  nach  to  take  heed ;  vgl. 
Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  433.  —  399.  Northwardes  :  vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  3i.  —  400. 
in  Winter  :  moglicherweise  eine  Andeutung  der  Entstehungszeit  des 
Stuckes,  die  wir  zwischen  die  Monate  Februar  bis  Mai  1606  zu  setzen 
hatten  (cf.  Einl.  p.  29  f.). —  401  bis  406.  Obscone  Metaphern.  —  4o5  f.  at 
hottest  :  at  =  at  the,  me.  atte;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  121.  —  409  ff.  her,  she, 
herself,  her  etc.  bis  426  incl.  :  Sharpham  la'sst  uns  vorlaufig  im  Unkla- 
ren  dariiber,  auf  welche  der  beiden  Schwestern  sich  Fleires  Andeu- 
tungen  beziehen,  doch  konnen  wir  aus  II,  336  u.  436  entnehmen,  dass 
der  Dichter  mit  diesen  Pronominibus  die  altere  Schwester  Florida 
(vgl.  I,  126)  bezeichnen  will.  —  417.  say  :  i.  e.  suppose ;  vgl.  Anm. 
zu  II,  24.  — 

P.  [3o] 

424.  I.  I,  I  doubt  :  i.  e.  Ay,  ay,  I  doubt  (Auch  sonst  haufig  /  fur  ay). 
—  but  fur  that  nach  negiertem  doubt.  —  424  if.  Wortspiel,  beruhend 
auf  dem  Doppelsinn  von  turn  :  sich  andern  --  sich  abwenden.  - 
429.  a  kisses  his  hand  ;  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  i32-  —  43o.  leire  :  i.  e-  leer 
'  anaugeln '.  O.  D.  verzeichnet  fur  das  hier  vorliegende  Verbum  keine 
'  ei  '-Form,  wohl  aber  fur  das  Hauptwort  im  i5.  Jhrh.  —  am  =  them. 

-  432.  Glister  :  haufige  Nebenform  von  clyster.  —  434.  Thisbe  :  vgl. 
oben,  Einl.  p.  24.  —  almosd  :  i.  e.  almost.  —  435.  scabberd  :  i.  e.  scab 
bard  '  Scheide  ' ;  Fleire  gebraucht  das  Wort  natiirlich  in  obscSnem 
Sinne-  —  445.  a  nightes  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  91.  — 


71 

p.  [3i] 

475.  would  :  Unterdriickung  des  pronomin.  Subjekts  (vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. 
§  172).  —  477.  of  :  Drf.  fur  oft  (vgl.  BCD  :  oft  und  den  umgekehrten 
Drf.  oft  fur  off  :  II,  227).  - 

p.  [32] 

5o6.  with  :  Drf.  fur  which  (vgl.  BCD:  which).  —  5i8.  sir  :  i.  e.  Ruf- 
fel.  —  523.  Shame  to  thy  etc.  :  Susan  spricht  '  (aside} '.  —  528.  without 
imprisonment  :  i.  e.  ohne  mich  zu  binden,  ohne  zu  heiraten.  — 

p.  [33] 

53i.  Lies  :  to  loue  her.  O...  —  546.  as  please  you  :  Auslassung  des 
neutr.  it  vor  unpersonl.  Verb  (vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  172).  —  549.  bee  going  : 
vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  469.  —  460.  Both  :  i.  e.  Ruffel  u.  Knight.  —  Lies  : 
you,  sir.  —  55i.  cals  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  I,  5i.  —  552.  manent  Piso  and 
Nan  :  unvollstandig ;  nach  558  bleibt  ausser  den  Schwestern  Flor. 
und  Pel-  auch  Fleire,  unbemerkt,  wir  haben  uns  ihn  als  gleichzeitig 
mit  Piso  und  Nan  abgehend  vorzustellen ;  von  563  an  sind  die  Schwes 
tern  zweifellos  allein.  —  553.  haue  :  zu  erganzen  ist  been,  dessen 
Funktion  falschlicherweise  bee  iibernimmt.  —  556.  I  deale  on  vse  :  to 
deal  on  use  '  Zinsgeschafte  machen '.  —  haue  much  interest  :  hohe 
Zinsen  haben.  —  558.  Fleire  spricht  '  (aside) '.  —  Lies  :  Caught,  I 
hope...  fast,  by  heauen  !  —  563.  Lies  :  well !  Refusd...  ;  der  Gruss  ist 
an  Piso,  das  Wort  '  Refusd '  an  Felitia  gerichtet ;  die  Ausrufe  Refusd 
etc-  beziehen  sich  auf  die  Abweisung  durch  Spark  (5i5)  und  Ruffel 
(524).  —  567.  Adyes  :  lies  A  [=  he]  dyes  '  er  stirbt '.  — 

III.  Akt. 

P.  [341 

4.  Lies  :  We  are.  —  9.  against  :  vgl.  die  ganz  entsprechende  Ver- 
wendung  dieser  Prapos.  bei  Shakesp.,  Tam.  Shr.  II,  i,  3i6  *  gainst 
the  wedding-day'  und  M.  N.  Dr.  I,  i,  ia5  :  against  our  nuptial.  — 
14  u.  25.  Reade  :  da  Rcade  Plural  ist  (vgl.  auch  B  C  D),  haben  wir  uns 
vorzustellen,  dass  beide  Schwestern  gemeinsam  in  die  Briefe  sehen. — 

p.  [35] 

3o.  Streiche  das  zweite  if  (Drf.  !  Vgl.  B  C  D).  40.  match  :  Lunte.  — 
41  f.  Lies  :  reuenge.  Yet...  one,  there...  —  44.  Fur  *  Then '  ist  wohl  das 
vom  Sinn  geforderte  '  It'  einzusetzen  ;  das  Auge  des  Setzers  ist  auf 
das  unmittelbar  dariiber  stehende  '  Then '  von  Zeile  43  abgeirrt.  In  C 
ist  die  den  Schaden  nicht  heilende  Anderung  '  A  '  fur  *  Then  '.  —  5of. 
Lies  :  But...  - 


72 

p.  [36] 

65  f.  Lies  :  Cocatrise  !  My...  —  65  bis  y5.  Vgl.  den  ahnl-  Monolog 
des  Malheureux  in  Marst.  «  Dutch  Court.  »  II,  85  ff.  :  «  That  I  should 
love  a  strumpet !  I,  a  man  of  snow  !...  ».  —  79.  sure  on't  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh. 
Gr.  §  347.  —  82  f.  Lies  :  Gentlewoman.  O...  —  83  ff.  Klangspiel  auf 
( irund  der  Klangverwandtschaft  zwischen  whore  u.  war.  —  88.  Lies  : 
me,  man  ?  —  92  bis  98.  Vgl.  Fl.  II,  417  bis  426.  —  99.  Lies  :  Yet 
againe  !  Now...  —  100.  light  :  i.  e.  alight  011  '  herabfallen  auf '.  - 

P.  [37] 

109.  great  :  wahrscheinlich  soviel  wie  geschwollen  (vgl.  great  with 
child).—  112.  stones  :  Fleire  gefallt  sichwieder  in  Zweideutigkeiten.— 
117.  Oten  bis  token  :  eine  mir  unklare  Anspielung.  —  124.  Lies  :  alone, 
sir?—  124  bis  126.  Fleire  hat  es  mit  seiner  Frage  (124)  und  seinem 
Rate  (126)  naturlich  auf  eine  Verulkung  des  nichtsahnenden  Ritters 
abgesehen,  indem  er  woodcock  in  der  scherzhaften  Nebenbedeutung 
'  Tolpel ',  '  Narr '  nimmt  und  sie  auf  Havelittle  selbst  anwendet.  - 
127.  Mas  :  i.  e.  by  the  mass  '  bei  der  hlg.  Messe '.  Diese  Beteurung 
findet  sich  auch  bei  Shakesp.  mehrfach  (vgl.  Schmidt,  Sh.-Lex.  II, 
p.  698) ;  ferner  z.  B.  auch  in  Middletons  «  A  Mad  World  »  etc.  V,  2, 
142  ;  Marat's  «  Dutch  Court  »  II,  3,  62  f.  u.  IV,  4,  n.  —  128. 1  remem 
ber  me  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §§  173  u.  474.  —  i35.  garded  (D  :  guarded) 
mit  Besatz  versehen  ;  cf.  Marst.  «  The  Malcont »  I,  3,  9.  — 

p.  [38] 

140.  a  comming  :  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  5o8.  —  144.  Lies  :  Why,  looke... 
-  147.  ioynter  :  i.  e.  jointure  '  Rente '.  —  i55.  Gods  my  life  :  (bei 
Shakesp.  auch  'od's  my  little  life  \  As  You  L.  Ill,  5,  43),  entstanden 
aus  '  God  is  my  life '  (vgl.  die  Beispiele  bei  Swaen  E.  St.  XXIV,  p.  25), 
oder,  was  nach  der  bei  Shakesp.  auftretenden  Form  wahrscheinlicher 
ist,  aus  God  s(ave)  my  life.  —  i55  ff.  ironisch  gemeint  —  i56.  Lies  : 
New  Castle  (wie  in  B  C  D),  die  bekannte  Kohlenstadt  —  i5g  f.  Fleire 
spricht  '  (aside) ',  naturlich  mit  Bezug  auf  Havelittle.  —  160.  comes 
about  etc.  :  Fleire  will  sagen,  dass  die  Ehrlichkeit  des  Knight  eben- 
solange  ausbleiben  wird,  wie  sein  Geld.  —  164.  Aratines  :  lies  Aretines 
wie  in  B  C  D  ;  Sharpham  meint  den  Dichter  Pietro  Aretino  (1492-1557), 
den  Altmeister  im  Reiche  der  Zote.  Der  Ausdruck  Aratines  pictures 
beruht  darauf,  dass  Aretino  i523  eine  Anzahl  von  ausserst  obsconen 
Sonetten  zu  einer  nicht  weniger  anstossigen  Bilderserie  des  Malers 
Giulio  Romano  schrieb.  Aretino  und  '  Aretines  pictures '  werden  von 


73 

den  Englandern  haufig  als  Inbegriff  des  Unmoralischen  zitiert.  Vgl. 
Marst.  «  Satires  »  II,  Z.  145  ;  «  Scourge  of  Villainy  »  XI,  144  ;  ferner 
Middleton  «  A  Game  at  Chess  »  11,2,  255  u.  Anm- ;  «  Parnass  »-Spiele 
(Ed.  Macray)  pp.  81,  86,  121.  Eine  Charakteristik  Aretinos  bietet  John 
Davies  of  Hereford  in  seinem  Werk  «  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth  »  M) 
(p.  227),  wo  er  spricht  von  :  carnall  Colleges,  wherein  are  taught  | 
Lusts  beastly  lessons,  which  no  beast  will  brooke,  |  Where  Aratine 
is  read,  and  nearely  sought ;  |  And  so  Lusts  Precepts  practiz'd  by  the 
Booke.  |  Who  knowes  not  Aratine,  let  him  not  aske  |  What  thing  it 
is ;  let  it  suffice  hee  was  :  |  But  what  ?  no  Mouth  can  tell  without  a 
Maske ;  |  For  Shame  it  selfe,  will  say,  O  let  that  passe  !  |  He  was  a 
Monster,  Tush,  O  nothing  lesse  :  |  For,  Nature  monsters  makes  (how 
ere  vnright)  |  But  Nature  ne'r  made  such  a  Fiend  as  this,  |  Who,  like 
a  Fiend,  was  made  in  Natures  spight  !  |  Therefore,  away  with  all 
that  like  his  Rules,  |  Which  Nature  doth  dislike  as  she  doth  Hell  :  | 
Break  vp  those  free  (yet  deere  &  damned)  Schools,  |  That  teach  but 
gainst  kinde  Nature  to  rebell  ».  —  i65.  I  warrant  her  :  '  ich  stehe  fur 
sie  ein '.  —  169.  lohn  for  the  King  :  eine  Ballade  des  Balladendichters 
Deloney,  deren  Text  nicht  mehr  erhalten  zu  sein  scheint  (cf.  W.  Chap- 
pell  «  The  Ballad  Literature  and  Popular  Music  of  the  Olden  Time  ». 
London  s.  a.  vol.  I,  p.  107,  vol.  II,  p.  770).  Die  Ballade  wurde  am. 
24.  Okt.  i6o3  in  die  S.  R.  folgendermassen  eingetragen  :  «  Master 
Edward  white  Entered  for  his  Copie  vnder  th[e  h]andes  of  master 
Abraham  Hartwell  and  Master  Warden  Dawson  A  new  Ballet  called 
'  John  for  the  king ',  To  the  tune  of  '  Hey  Downe  derrye  '  vjd  »  Ein 
Zitat  aus  «  John  for  the  King  »  ist  moglicherweise  folgende  Stelle  in 
Hey  woods  liederreichem  «  Rape  of  Lucrece  » (Works,  vol.  V,  p.  200  f.), 
die  vom  Clown  rezitiert  wird  und  in  einer  alten  Quarto  (Druckjahr 
abgeschnitten)  kursiv  gedruckt  ist  :  «  John  for  the  king  has  bin  in 
many  ballads,  John  for  the  king  down  dino,  John  for  the  king,  has 
eaten  many  sallads  John  for  the  king  sings  hey  ho  ».  Ob  der  Text  der 
John  for  the  King-Ballade  bezw.  —  Balladen  obscon  war,  wie  aus  der 
Fl. -Stelle  hervorzugehen  scheint,  konnte  ich  nicht  feststellen-  —  170. 


50)  Humours  Heau'n  on  Earth  ;  |  With  |  The  Ciuile  Warres  of  Death  |  and 
Fortune.  |  As  also  |  The  Triumph  of  Death  :  |  Or,  |  The  Picture  of  the 
Plague,  according  to  |  the  Life  ;  as  it  was  in  Anno  |  Domini.  i6o3.  |  By  lohn 
Dailies  of  Hereford.  |  O  !  t'is  a  sacred  kinde  of  Excellence,  |  That  hides  a 
rich  truth  in  a  Tales  pretence  !  1  Printed  at  London  by  A.  I.  |  i6o5. 


74 

Vp  tailes  all  :  vgl.  Chappell  «  Ball.  Lit...  of  the  Olden  Time  »  (Neue 
Aufl.,  Lond.  i8g3)  p.  149.  Einen  vollstandigen  Abdruck  dieses  ausserst 
obsconen  Machwerkes  mil  der  zugehorigen  Melodic  fand  ich  in  «  A 
Collection  of  Engl.  Ballads  from  the  Beginning  of  the  present  Century 
when  they  were  first  engraved  &  published  singly  with  Music  »  (  1790, 

vol.  II,  p.  323  ;  Brit.  Mus.  Libr.  Pr-Mark  G.  ^-]  unter  dem  Titel 

249  s 
«  The  Rage  or  Prevailing  Game  of  Up  Tails  All  as  perform'd  by 

many  Persons  of  Quality.  A  Song  that  will  never  be  old  ».  —  173. 
ligges  :  Lieder  ;  vgl.  'Jig'  in  Cup.'s  Whirl,  (oben,  Einl.  p.  32-)  — 
176.  Instruments  :  von  Fleire  in  demselben  Sinne  gebraucht,  wie  in 
Chaucers  Prol.  of  the  Wife  of  Bath's  Tale  149  f.  ;  vgl.  in  unserem 
Drama  IV,  i5y  f.  - 

P.  [39] 

190  f.  Havelittle  braucht  before  im  iibertragenen  Sinne  (=•--  '  hoher 
im  Range  als '),  Fleire  versteht  es  im  zeitlichen.  —  191.  fore  :  i.  e.  'fore 
<  before  (vgl.  C  D  :  'fore).  —  196  bis  199.  Es  liegt  naturlich  ein  Fehl- 
schluss  vor  ;  ein  Freund  unseres  Dichters,  Robert  Hayman  (vgl.  oben 
pp.  4  u.  43  f.)  brachte  in  seinen  «  Quodlibets,  Lately  come,  over 
from  New  Britanniola  »  (Lond.  1628 ;  Brit.  Mus.  Libr.  Pr.-Mark  :  C. 
34.  f.  1 5)  denselben  Gedanken  in  Verse  (vgl.  Epigr.  47)  :  '  To  a  han- 
some  Whore.  |  One  told  me,  what  a  pretty  face  thou  hast ;  |  And  it's 
great  pitty  thou  art  not  chaste  |  But  I  did  tell  him,  that  did  tell  it  me  | 
That  if  thou  wert  not  Faire,  thou  chaste  wouldst  be  ' ;  dieselbe  Ansicht 
spricht  Marstons  Hercules  aus  in  den  Worten  :  «  She  may  be  chaste, 
for  she  has  a  bad  face  »  («  Par.  »  III,  i,  108  f.).  —  200.  breathing  could  : 
Auslassung  des  Relat.-Pron.  im  nom.  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  2i5.  —  2o3. 
Lies  :  burst !  Boy  !  —  212.  Wagtaile  :  eigentlich  '  Bachstelze ',  hier 
soviel  wie  '  Dime  '.  —  2i3.  Peack  :  Drf.  fur  Peacock  (so  in  B  C  D) ;  das 
Auge  des  Setzers  ist  von  dem  ersten  c  auf  das  zweite  iibergesprungen — 

p.  [40] 

2i5.  Lies  :  wit,  boy...  —  216.  mee't :  lies  meet  (vgl.  D  :  meet).  —  23o  f. 
Wortspiel  :  Nan  braucht  to  man  in  obsconem  Sinn  (begatten).  - 

P-  Ui] 

256-  so  :  i.  e.  it  is  well ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  3oo.  -  let  them  snick  vp  : 
'  lasst  sie  zum  Henker  gehen ' ;  vgl.  bei  Shakesp.  '  sneck  up  '  (Tw.  N. 
II,  3,  101)  ;  lies  :  snick  vp.  If...  —  283.  thou'st  :  i.  e.  thou  must.  —  284. 
i'st  :  lies  is't.  -  286  bis  289.  Wortspiel,  beruhend  auf  dem  Nebensinn 


75 

von  ancient  (Fahnentrager,  corrupt,  aus  ensign)  und  dem  Doppelsinn 
von  colours  (Fahnenfarben-Schminke) ;  die  Erganzung  '  but  tis  in  a  box ' 
macht  den  Scherz  deutlich.  - 

p.  [42] 

294  f.  tis  bis  then :  wohl  zu  lesen  tis  a  good  hearing  they  gette, better  then... 
—  297  f.  Vgl-  den  ahnlichen  Scherz  in  Cup.'s  Whirl-  p.  Bab  (Editio  prin- 
ceps) : «  though  I  fall  out  with  you,  you  may  fall  in  with  her  »;  ebenfalls 
obscon  gegeniibergestellt  finden  sich  die  Worte  in  Marstons  «  Dutch 
Court.  »  IV,  i,  g3  :  «  Sometimes  a  falling  out  proves  falling  in  »,  — 
3o3  f.  that  has  plaid  etc.  :  Das  Wortspiel  beruht  auf  dem  Doppelsinn 
von  broken  '  zerbrochen  '  und  '  zu  Grunde  gerichtet '.  ~  3o8.  cousen  : 
i.  e.  cozen.  —  3io  bis  3ig.  Vgl.  die  ahnlichen,  lockenden  Schilderun- 
gen  anbetungswiirdiger  Frauen  im  «  Par.  »  III,  79  ff-  u-  IV,  53i  f. ; 
vgl.  auch  oben,  Einl.  p-  19.— 32i.  Beadles  of  Bridewell :  Bridewell  war 
ein  (1210  erbauter)  konigl.  Pallast,  der  i522  nach  einem  in  der  Nahe 
der  St.  Bride's  Church  belegenen  Brunnen  benannt  und  von  Edward 
VI.  in  ein  stadt.  Gefangnis  umgewandelt  wurde  (vgl.  z.  B.  Marst's 
«  Dutch  Court.  »  I,  2,  i58).  Cf.  Nares  «  Glossary  of  Words,  Phrases, 
Names,  and  Allusions  »  etc.  p.  149.  — 

P.  [43] 

338  bis  353.  Vgl.  oben,  Einl.  p.  23.  -  33g.  Metheglins  :  'Met'; 
vgl.  Heyw.  (Works,  vol.  V,  p.  216).  —  340.  Mustroome  :  Drf.  fur 
mushroom.  —  341.  Oscabath  :  als  Vokabel  nicht  vorhanden  ;  wahr- 
scheinlich  Klangnachahmung  irischer  Eigennamen  :  O'  Scabath ; 
scabath  sollte  vielleicht  an  engl.  scabbed  raudig,  kratzig  erinnern 
und  ein  Hieb  gegen  die  Irlander  sein.  —  342-  Shamrough  :  seltene 
Schreibung  von  shamrock  (vgl.  hough  =  hock  '  Hexe ')  '  Klee ', 
irisches  Nationalemblem.  —  Slopdragon  :  eine  Nebenform  von  Snap 
dragon  (auch  F"lapdragon,  vgl.  Shakesp.  L.  L.  L.  V,  i,  46 ;  2  H4  II, 
4,  267)  :  ein  Weihnachtsgetrank,  Rosinen  und  dgl.  in  gliihend  heissem 
Brantwein  ;  Flapdragon  wird  als  Name  fur  einen  hollandischen  Bor- 
dellkunden  in  Marst.'s  "Dutch  Court. »  II,  2,  19  gebraucht.  Diese 
Stelle  Marstons  konnte  Sharpham  iiberhaupt  auf  den  Gedanken 
gebracht  haben,  Vertreter  vieler  Volker  bei  den  Florentiner  Kurtisa- 
nen  einzufuhren.  Die  Kupplerin  Mary  Faugh  lasst  auch  einen  Spa- 
nier,  Italiener,  Irlander,  Hollander,  F'ranzosen,  Englander  in  ihrem 
Hause  verkehren.  —  345.  Smooth  the  Silk-man  :  vgl.  Shakesp  2  H4  II, 
i ,  3 1  : '  to  Master  Smooth's  the  silk-man '.  —  347.  Match : '  Ziindschnur '. 


76 

—  349-  deale  in  Chambers  :  mit  obsconem  Nebensinn  gebraucht  ; 
chamber  :  *)  short  piece  of  ordnance  or  cannon...  used  chiefly  for 
rejoicings,  and  theatrical  cannonades  (Nares,  Glossary  etc.)  2)  Schlaf- 
zimmer.  —  352-  Muld-sacke  :  i.  e.  mulled  sack  *  Gluhwein  '.  — 

IV.  Akt. 

P-  [44] 

17.  Chiego  :  welcher  Berg  gemeint  ist,  habe  ich  nicht  feststellen 
konnen.  —  21.  Lies  :  A  Foule,  Lady  ?  —  Foule  bis  bird  :  Wortspiel  mit 
foul  —fowl,  auf  welch  letzteres  bird  hinweist  ;  aus  Z.  22  geht  hervor, 
dass  From,  dem  Spiele  Pet.'s  nicht  gefolgt  ist.  —  26.  muffe  :  '  Dumm- 
kopf  '.—  28.  Gods  mee  :  verkiirzt  aus  '  God  save  me  '  ;  vgl.  Swaen,  E.  St. 
XXIV,  p.  27  f.,  sowie  Anm.  zu  FL  III,  i55.  —  35.  flurt  =  flirt.  - 
38.  colours  :  '  Schminke  '.  —  drawnworke  :  eine  bestimmte  Art  von 
Stickerei  ;  vgl.  O.  D.  —  40  u.  43.  and  =  if;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  412-  — 


57.  Gentlemen  :  an  Spark  und  Ruffel  gerichtet.  —  63.  Felicia  :  natiir- 
lich  Drf.  (auch  in  BCD)  fur  '  Fleire  '.  —  two  Wenches  disguised  : 
gemeint  sind  Nan  und  Susan,  die  erst  jetzt,  gleichzeitig  mit  dem  Fort- 
gehen  Sparks  und  Ruffels  in  das  Zimmer  schliipfen;  denn  waren  die 
beiden  Madchen  schon  seit  Aktbeginn  anwesend  gewesen,  so  wiirde 
die  Biihnenanweisung  '  disguised'  an  dieser  Stelle  sehr  verspatet  sein. 
-  72.  so  :  Drf.  fur  to  (vgl.  BCD).  —  77.  its  :  Drf.  fur  '  it  ',  der  auch  in 
D  wiederkehrt,  wahrend  B  C  die  richtige  Lesart  bieten-  —  84.  durst  : 
in  prasentischer  Bedeutung  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  23.  —  to  :  liber  prapo- 
sition.  Inf.  nach  to  dare  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  494.  - 

p.  [46] 

86.  Durst  :  vgl.  Anm.  zu  IV,  84.  —  90.  safe  tie  :  Drf.  fur  safetie  ; 
vgl.  B  C  D.  —  93  f.  Vgl.  Marst.'s  «  Par.  »  III,  i,  604  ff.  :  «  shall  I  not... 
love  |  So  wondrous  wit  in  so  most  wondrous  beauty...  »  —  100-  Who 
wee  ?  :  ein  doppelter  Fall  von  Kasusvertauschung  der  Pronomina. 
Die  Frage  des  Knight  wiirde  grammat  richtig  lauten  mussen  '  Whom, 
us?'  -  104.  consenr  :  Drf.  fiir  consent.  —  107.  brude  =  brewed.  — 

P-  [47] 

127.  Figg  :  i.  e.  poisoned  fig  ;  fig  als  Vergiftungsmittel  ist  im  O.  D. 
circa  1589-1691  belegt.  —  i3a.  as  =  that  (nach  such^  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr. 
§  420-  —  145.  vertuons  :  Drf.  fiir  vertuous.  —  i52.  sister  :  mit  diesem 


77 

Wort  verraten  sich  die  verkleideten  Schwestern  vor  Fleire ;  vgl.  Z. 
i56.  —  i56.  Lies  :  Howe  ?  sister  !  —  i5y  f.  Instruments  :  natiirlich  auch 
hierobscongemeint,  wie  sich  aus  dem  folgenden  ergibt;  vgl.  Ill,  176.— 

p.  [48] 

i65.  as  I  am  true  Italian  :  Unterdriickung  des  unbest.  Artikels  vor 
pradikat.  Subst;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  i3o.  —  169.  which  by  etc.  :  vgl.  II, 
533  bis  537.  —  173.  as  =  that  (nach  so) ;  vgl.  Anm.  zu  IV,  i32.  —  span- 
counter  :  vgl.  Shakesp.  aHe  IV,  2,  166  u.  Grieb-Schroer  s.  v.  '  span '. 
-  174.  Lies  :  garters,  I...  —  177.  man  :  *  begleiten '.  —  178.  a  =  of.  — 
i83.  Siehe  den  ahnl.  Vergleich  by  Shakesp.  2H4  II,  2, 182  ff. : «  Prince... 
This  Doll  Tearsheet  should  be  some  road.  Poins.  I  warrant  you,  as 
common  as  the  way  between  Saint  Alban's  and  London  ».  —  186. 
stand  etc.  :  eine  der  bei  Fleire  beliebten  Zweideutigkeiten.  —  190. 
hearke  in  your  eares  :  Fleire  teilt  seinen  Plan  leise  mit.  —  194.  Alunio  : 
aber  Z.  i38  : '  Aluino  '.  —  196-  Arringus  :  i.  e.  eringoes,  angeblich  den 
Geschlechtstrieb  reizende  Pflanzenwurzeln,  im  Drama  jener  Zeit  oft 
erwahnt,  vgl.  z.  B.  Marst.'s  «  Par  ».  II,  i,  i5i  ;  Shakesp.  Merry  W.  V, 
5,  23.  - 

P-  [49] 

198.  her  name  :  der  Name  seiner  Frau.  --  200.  Ciuet  =  civet 
'  Zibeth  ' ;  vgl.  Shakesp.  As  L.  Ill,  2,  66  ff.  (.. «  The  courtier's  hands 
are  perfumed  with  civet...  civet  is  of  a  baser  birth  than  tar,  the  very 
uncleanly  flux  of  a  cat  ».)  sowie  Jons.'s  E.  M.  out  of  IV,  4,  (Works  II, 
p.  137).  —  2o3.  on  't  :  i.  e.  of  it ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  347.  --  Lies  : 
on  't ;  this...  —  2o5.  poops  :  '  Blahungen  ',  '  Winde ' ;  OD.  verzeichnet 
keinen  Beleg  fur  das  Subst.  in  dieser  Bedeutung,  aber  fur  das 
Verbum  gibt  es  die  Bedeutung  :  '  to  break  wind  backward  softly ' 
(s.  v.  vib).  ).  —  206.  Lies  :  spirit.  —  208.  Lies  :  Quintessence.  —  212. 
still  :  Kiirzung  von  distill.  —  224.  Lies  :  Mistresse. 

p.[5o] 

237.  Lies  :  Apothecary.  S'  hart...  (vgl.  S'  heart  in  B  C  D) ;  —  s'  hart 
i.  e-  (God)'s  heart.  —  243.  Lotiums  :  lat-  lotium  '  Urin ' ;  vgl.  OD  s.  v. 
lotium  :  '  Stale  urine  used  by  barbers  as  a  «  lye  »  for  the  hair '  und  das 
erste  Zitat  aus  Jonson's  «  Poetaster  III,  i,  wo  ebenfalls  von  einem 
Apotheker  die  Rede  ist ;  das  Wort  erscheint  auch  als  vulg.  Form 
von  lotion  (cf.  den  Beleg  von  1657).  —  248.  tastes  :  zum  plural.  Ge- 
brauch  abstrakter  Subst.  in  Shakesp. 's  Zeit  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  38  ;  viel- 
leicht  auch  Drf.  fiir  taste,  vgl.  BCD:  tast.  —  257.  wilt  •-=  will  it.  — 


78 

257-  ff-  a  Cat  hath  nine  liues  etc.  :  vgl.  einen  ahnlichen  Scherz  in 
Marst.'s  «  Dutch  Court.  »  III,  i,  io3  :  «  Tyse.  Good  morrow,  sweet 
life  !  Cri.  Life  !  dost  call  thy  mistress  life  ?  Tyse.  Life  !  yes,  why  not 
life?  Cri.  How  many  mistresses  hast  thou  ?  Tyse.  Some  nine-  Cri. 
Why  then  thou  hast  nine  lives,  like  a  cat  ».  — 

p.  [5i] 

a83  f.  my  old  elders  :  Bei  dieser  Benennung  der  beiden  would-be-  Gift- 
morder  hat  Sharpham  zweifellos  an  die  beiden  Veiiaumder  in  der 
Geschichte  der  schonen  Susanna  gedacht,  die  stets  '  the  two  elders  ' 
genannt  werden.  —  285.  Lies  :  doe.  Well...  —  299.  Springle  :  '  Spren- 
kel,  Schlinge  '.  —  3o3.  Lies  :  youth,  '  twil...  —  3o5.  on  a  Scab  :  i.  e. 
'  in  Gestalt  von  Kratze '.  - 

V.  Akt. 

p.  [52] 

ii.  Ciuill-lawe  :  cf.  «  Encycl.  of  the  Laws  of  Engl.  »  vol.  Ill,  p.  91  : 
'  The  civilians  were  frequently,  and  naturally  employed  in  negocia- 
tions  with  foreign  states,  and  consulted  upon  international  controver 
sies  '.  —  26.  Mittimus  :  Etikettenname  (i.  e.  '  Verhaftsbefehl ')  ;  vgl. 
Marst.'s  «  Dutch  Court.  »  IV,  5,  120.  - 

p.  [54] 

75.  seeng  =  seeing  (cf.  B  C  D).  —  81.  meanes  :  i.  e.  mean  (Mitte,  mitt- 
lere  Tone)  is  (vgl.  meanes  B,  Meane's  C).  —  85-  Vnmaske  :  Drf.  fur  '  Vn- 
mask't  '(vgl.  BCD).  —  88.  Wir  haben  natiirlich  das  Folgende  auf 
einen  andern  Schauplatz  zu  verlegen.  —  97.  Sharphams  Vergleiche 
lassen  den  Juristen  erkennen,  der  solche  Akten  oft  zu  Gesicht  bekam. 
—  99.  conscience  :  '  Gewissensgrund '.  —  Lies  :  on't  :  say...  —  102-  no  : 
Drf.  fur  so  (vgl.  C) ;  D  hat  -  wenig  passend  —  too-  —  io5.  Der  Sinn 
verlangt  die  Erganzung  *  like'  nach  drink.  —  106.  Dutch  captains  :  bei 
den  Dramatikern  jener  Zeit  finden  sich  oft  Anspielungen  auf  das 
starke  Trinken  der  Hollander. 

p.  [55] 

108.  Aymon  :  Haimon;  die  Haimonskinder  werden  von  den  Drama 
tikern  nicht  oft  erwahnt ;  vgl.  Koeppel  «  Ben  Jons.'s  Wirkg.  »  etc. 
p.  206  f.  Es  kann  leicht  sein,  dass  Spaiks  Worte  eine  Anspielung  auf 
eine  zeitgenossische  Gesellschaft  junger  Manner  enthalten  ;  die  Satire 
der  ganzen  Scene  bezieht  sich  auf  die  Gegenwart  des  Autors.  —  no. 


7* 

Lies  :  Why,  are... ;  das  Verbum  dieses  Satzes  ist  nach  dem  Gen.  PI. 
Porters  konstruirt ;  vgl.  ahnliche  Fa" lie  bei  Shakesp.,  Fr.  Sh.  Fr.  §  5i6 
d.  —  in.  Lies  :  Apes,  man  wie  in  B  C  D.  —  120  ff.  Einer  der  haufigcn 
Ausfalle  der  Dramatiker  gegen  die  Puritaner,  die  von  ihnen  gern  der 
Heuchelei,  des  Scheinchristentums  bezichtigt  wurden.  Von  den 
Gegnern  der  Puritaner  wurde  das  Wort  puritan  '  Puritanerin  '  geradezu 
als  Bezeichnung  einer  Dime  verwendet ;  vgl.  Marst.'s  «  What  you 
Wi11»  III, 3, 28 u.  Anm.  —  And  good  reason  :  ironisch  gemeint. —  Lies: 
reason !  Why,  coulde...  — 125.  Diese  fromme  Affektation  wird  denPuri- 
tanern  im  Drama  haufig  vorgeworfen.  —  i32.  wast  =  was't,  —  i36  bis 
145.  Wortspiel,  beruhend  auf  dem  Doppelsinn  von  angel :  '  Engel  — 
Engelstaler ' ;  ahnliche  Wortpiele  auch  bei  Shakesp.  (vgl.  dariiber 
Wurth »  Das  Wortspiel  bei  Shakesp.  etc.  pp.  45,  i65)  und  vielen 
anderen  Dramatikern.  —  143.  foules  :  wohl  =  fools.  — 

p.  [56] 

145.  Lies  :  Horses.  There...  --  146.  damb'd  =  damned.  —  i53. 
wa'st  =  was  it.  —  154  bis  171.  Wahrscheinlich  eine  Verulkung  zweier 
vielleicht  wegen  ihrer  Geldschneiderei  (vgl-  Z.  161)  beriichtigter  Be- 
amten  des  Schuldgefangnisses.  -  gossipping  .:  '  Taufschmaus ', 
1  Kindtaufe  '.  --  Proserpina  :  als  Gemahlin  des  Teufels  gedacht.  — 
160.  Counter  :  '  Schuldgefangnis '  ;  vgl.  Middletons  «  Phoenix  »  IV, 
3,  19  u.  Anm.  —  i63.  Lies  :  of  am  ?  Fleires  Frage  ist  mir  iibrigens  nicht 
ganz  klar  (erstes  she  :  Proserpina  ;  zweites  shee  :  Drf.  fiir  wtc  ?)  - 

p.  [57] 

178.  vSchauplatz  :  Gerichtssaal.  —  i85.  2.  Judges  :  das  s  beruht  wohl 
auf  einem  Drf.,  doch  beachte  man  die  Ubereinstimmung  mit  BCD. 
-  which  :  fiir  who  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  202.  —  196.  to  accept  of  mee  : 
vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  36o.  --  202.  footh  :  Drf.  fiir  forth.  --  Die  Ver- 
stiimmelung  des  Stichwortes  beruht  auf  La'sion  des  Blattes  in  A 
(Brit.  Mus.). 

p.  [58] 

2i3.  deboash'd  :  i.  e.  debauched.  —  Fiir  neuer  verlangt  der  Sinn 
'  ever  ',  Piso  zahlt  ja  seine  Siinden  auf  (vgl.  D  :  ever).  —  steard  = 
steered.  —  214.  enen  :  Drf.  fiir  euen.  —  219.  Lies  :  Ruffell.  How...  — 
221.  that  als  konjunktionales  Element ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  394.  —  23a. 
wonld  :  Drf.  fiir.  would.  —  233.  Fal  :  Drf.  fiir  Fel.  - 

P.  [59] 
25o.  Who,  wee  :  zu  erwarten  ware  *  Whom,  us  ? '  vgl.  oben,  Anm. 


8o 

zu  IV,  ioo.  —  25i.  Lies  :  Ladies  !  My  Lord...  —  264.  vilianies  :  Lies 
villanies.  —  270.  know  :  Drf.  fur  now.  —  271.  sees  :  durch  den  Ein- 
fluss  des  Gen.  Sing.  Heauens  zu  erklaren  ;  in  Fr.  Sh.  Gr-  p.  400  wird 
folg.  ahnliche  Fall  bei  Shakesp.  (Err.  V,  i,  69)  angefuhrt :  '  The  venom 
clamours  of  a  jealous  woman  |  Poisons  more  deadly  than  a  mad  dog's 
tooth.  —  273.  for  to  :  fur  to  ;  vgl.  Fr.  Sh.  Gr.  §  494,  Anm.  i.  —  Das 
Stichwort  ist  infolge  einer  Lasion  des  Blattes  verstummelt.  - 

p.  [60] 

290.  their  :  aus  dem  Kollektivbegriff  State  zu  erklaren.  —  296.  Piso 
wollte  sagen  dead,  wird  aber  von  Fleire  unterbrochen.  —  3o2.  the 
poisoned  men  etc.  :  gemeint  sind  Spark  und  Ruffel,  die  man  sich  als  in 
diesem  Augenblicke  eintretend  vorzustellen  hat.  —  3o5  ff.  Die  Schluss- 
worte,  mit  Ausnahme  von  807  f./spricht  Fleire  ins  Publikum.  - 

VARIANTEN. 

Bedeutungslose  graphische  Varianten  wie  :  kleine  Buchstaben  fur 
grosse  ;  y  fur  ie,  i ;  /  fur  // ;  v  fur  u  ;  knowe  fur  know  ;  knowest  fur  knowst ; 
way  fur  waye  ;  been  fur  beene  ;  be  fur  bee  ;  shee  fur  she  ;  friends  i\\x  friendcs  ; 
procured  fiir  procurd  ;  -nesse  fur  -nes  ;  -our  fur  -or  ;  commanded  fur  com- 
maunded  ;  Master  fur  Maister  \foule  furfowle  ;  Citizens  fiir  Cittizens  ;  them 
fur  the\  than  fur  /to ;  A^'s  fiir  Aws ;  thafs  fur  #tos  etc-  etc.  sind  in  unserer 
Variantenliste  nicht  beriicksichtigt.  Auch  von  den  Interpunktions- 
varianten  sind  nur  die  das  Verstandnis  erleichternden  angefuhrt.  Im 
garizen  ist  die  Schreibung  der  Editio  princeps  etwas  archaistischer  als 
die  der  drei  spateren  Drucke,  obwohl  alle  vier  innerhalb  eines  Zeit- 
raumes  von  nur  etwa  25  Jahren  erschienen  sind.  Die  erste  Quarto 
gibt  vermutlich  ein  treues  Bild  von  dem  Ms.  des  Dichters,  wahrend 
in  den  spateren  Drucken  die  Setzer  die  Schreibung  bestimmt  haben.  — 

Titelblatt  : 

been  B ;  —  Fryers,  C;  Revels  C;  At  London,  |  Printed  for  Nathaniell 
Butter,  |  and  are  to  be  sold  at  |  his  shop  at  the  Pyde  |  Bull  at  Saint 
Augustines  \  Gate.  An.  1610.  |  B  ;  —  At  London  ;  |  Printed  for  Nathaniell 
Butter,  |  and  are  to  be  solde  at  |  his  Shop  at  the  Pyde  Bull  |  at  Saint 
Augustine  :  \  Gate.  Anno  i6i5.  |  C ;  —  London.  Printed  by  B.  A.  and  | 
T.  F.  for  NATH  :  BVTTER,  |  and  are  to  bee  sold  at  his  shop  at  the  Pyde 
Bull  |  at  Saint  Augustines  \  Gate.  i63i.  |  D.  — 


81 
Vorrede  t 

12.  vndreamt  CD;  —  20.  beene  B  C  D;  A  hat  sehr  haufig  '  bin ' ; 
diuulg'd  B  C  ;  divulg'd  D;  —  21.  iest  B  Cj'jest  D;  you,  D;  —  3o.  you. 
C  ;  —  The  als  Stichwort  C  D  ;  - 

S.  [5] 
ii-  than  D  ;  —  i3.  usurpes  D;  —  19.  celsitiude  C  ;  —  21.  take,  C  ;  — 

S.  [6] 

34.  a  great  D  ;  —  35-  Yes,  C  ;  —  36.  'thad  C  ;  't  had  D  ;  —  3g.  to  seeke 
C  D;  —  40.  to  be  D;  —  45.  abundant  C;  —  48.  court,  C  D;  —  5i.  Fcl. 
B  C  D  ;  —  53.  let  me  D  ;  —  64.  amongst  D  ;  - 

s.  [7] 

59.  Exunt  B  ;  —  78.  instructed  then  sir  (pleon.  then  —  Drf.  ?)  D  ;  - 

S.  [8] 

97.  weare  D  ;  --  98.  of  nach  colour  fehlt  B  ;  —  99.  you  st.  yee 
B  C  D  ;  —  101.  her  st.  his  C  ;  —  107.  those  C  D  ;  of  nach  hangers  fehlt 
C  ;  —  ii3.  Gent.  B  ;  moneths  C  D  ;  - 

S.[9] 

134.  read  D  ;  —  140-  of  nach  Innes  C  ;  --  i5o.  you  nach  and  C  ;  - 
i5i.  the  other  D  ;  —  i52.  Felicia  B  D  ;  Felitia  C  ;  —  i5y.  wery  D  ;  - 

169.  pray  BCD;- 

S.  [10] 

172.  yeere  C  ;  —  177.  't  has  D  ;  —  180.  enough  CD;  —  i83-  Yes 
BCD;  —  193.  suiters  D  ;  —  202.  mishapen  D  ;  boysterous  D  ;  —  2o5. 
neat  Lad  to  C  ;  —  207.  moued  C  ;  - 

S.  [11] 

208-  suitor  D ;  —  2i3.  recreation  D  ;  —  226.  can  BCD;  —  228. 
his  st.  so  D ;  --  232.  come,  C  ;  - 

S.  [12] 

25i.  enterance  D  ;  —  260.  a  [st.  in]  childe-bed  C ;  —  264.  a  mornings 
C  ;  —  270.  hearbe  D  ;  —  278-  Nay,  D  ;  — 

S.  [i3] 

296.  do'y  D  ;  —  299.  signior  B  D  ;  Signior  C  ;  —  304.  signior  B  D  ; 
Signior  C  ;  —  307.  Signiour  B  ;  Signior  CD;—  314. 1  fehlt  D  ;  —  3i5. 
it  st.  tit  B  C  D  ;  — 

S.  [14] 
319,  no.  B  D  ;  —  336.  Signiour  B  D  ;  Signior  C ;  -  33g.  Well,  B  D  ; 


82 

342.  Signiour  B  D  ;  Signior  C  ;  —  3+5.  Signiour  B ;  Signior  CD;  — 
35i.  Signiour  B  ;  Signior  C  D  ;  - 

S.  [i5] 

36i.  iest  C ;  enough  C  D  ;  —  3yi.  wee'll  D  ;  —  379.  sory  C ;  sorry  D ; 
-  38i.  him.  BCD;-  385.  Most  BCD;  —  3go.  M.  Ruffell  D  ;  - 

S.  [16] 

407.  intreatred  B  ;  —  410.  neare  D  ;  —415.  Mistresse  D  ;  —  417.  thou 
art  D  ;  —  429.  studie  C  ;  study  D  ;  — 

S.  [17] 

439.  loath  D  ;  —  440.  Countrey  C  ;  —  445.  Italian  D  ;  —  447.  your 
Asses  to :  C ;  —  45i .  spurre  D ;  —  464.  doest  C ;  dost  D ;  —  468.  doest  C ;  — 

S.  [18] 

476.  Nay't  CD;—  479.  bee  fehlt  B  ;  twoo  B  ;  •-  486.  chusing  D  ;  — 
489.  I  I  haue  B  ;  —  491.  preferre  BCD;  straight  BCD;  —  496.  in 
mans  D  ;  mans  BCD;  apparel  B  ;  apparell  CD;  —  497.  prefer  C  ;  — 

S.  [19] 

17.  deny'd  D  ;  —  21.  put  B  C  D  ;  —  23.  yeere  C  D  ;  moneth  B  C  ; 
Moneth  D  ;  —  26.  young  D ;  —  27-  Gentleman  C ;  —  3o-  Taffetie  BCD; 
—  38.  hole  C  ;  —  39.  a  Winchester  C  ;  —  40.  Ladishippes  B  ;  —  41. 
yeare  B  D  ;  - 

S.  [20] 

47.  doest  C  ;  —  62.  were  st.  are  C  ;  —  54.  cricket  C  ;  —  5g.  suite  D  ; 
-  61.  Fie.  B  C  D  ;  --  63.  Yeoman  C  D  ;  Jordan  D;  a  smock  C  ;  — 
64.  entertainement  C  ;  —  65.  —  proach  C  D  ;  income  C  ;  —  66.  divell 
D  ;  -  67.  at  t'  C  ;  ath'  D  ;  —  77.  high  D  ;  - 

S.  [21] 

1  83.  pieces  C  ;  —  84.  very  st.  wee  D  ;  —  86.  preferre  B  ;  —  89.  snuffe, 
snuffe  B  ;  —  94.  ofs  C  ;  —  97.  adiew  C  ;  —  107.  signieur  B  ;  —  n5. 
pursse  C  ;  —  116.  bowles  C  ;  - 

S.  [22] 

117.  doest  B  C  ;  —  119.  Gentlemen  B  ;  Merch  —  C  ;  —  120.  —  chants 
D  ;  —  121.  an  B  C  ;  pounds  B  C  ;  —  122-  Merchant  CD;—  124.  at 
the  B  C  ;  —  i36.  Citie  B  C  ;  —  137.  apparall  R;  —  i3g.  Beggar  C  ;  - 
144.  woore  B  ;  —  i45.  woore  B  ;  —  i5a.  t'one  C  ;  fat  C  ;  —  i53.  th'other 
BC;EeleCD;- 

S.  [23] 

168.  Scottish  C  D  ;  —  171.  prethee  CD—  182.  prethee  C  ;  prithee  D ; 
1 85.  Madem  B ;  —  189.  th'art  D ;  tell  thou  B  ;  — 


83 

S.  [24] 

2o3.  hores  B  ;  —  217.  yeere  C  ;  —  220.  your  st.  the   H  C  ;  —  227. 
off  CD  ;- 

S.  [25] 

235.  know  her  B  ;  —  241.  lest  CD;—  244.  Amb.  B  D  ;  Am.  C  ;  - 
25o.  sate  D  ;  —  25g.  Britaine  C  D ;  - 

S.  [26] 

2g3.  sir,  they  CD;  —  294.  linrien  BCD;—  296.  Mousetraps  C  D  ; 
-  3oo.  they  B  ;  —  3o3.  Why,  C  ;  - 

S.  [27] 

3i3.  a  fehltC;  notable  a  D;  --  317.  betweene  D;  Beggar  C;  - 
32o.  Thiefe  C  ;  Thiefe  ?  D  ;  —  324-  theefe  B  C  ;  theife  D  ;  -  327.  petti- 
lasserie  C  ;  petti lassery  D  ;  —  328.  burnt  C  D  ;  das  erste  not  fehlt  C  D  ; 
fur  hand  ein  Gedankenstrich  CD  ;  (hand  Z.  329  bleibt).  —  332.  wor 
ship  C  ;  —  333-  here  ?  D  ;  —  336.  yonger  B  C  ;  —  338.  enioy  C  ;  enjoy 
D  ;  -  341.  solde  C  ;  sold  D  ;  Diuell  B  ;  Divell  D  ;  -  343.  Divell  D  ; 

due  C  D  ;  - 

S.  [28] 

345.  muanes  D  ;  —  353.  add  st.  and  B  ;  —  355.  what  st.  that  BCD; 
did  fehlt  B  ;  —  36g.  sate  CD;  —  370.  hole  D  ;  —  371-  farre  D  ;  - 

S.  [29] 

382.  Mistresse  D;  —  384.  thy  st.  your  C;  —  387.  yee  C  D  ;  —  393.  O 
fehlt  CD  ;  —  394.  gratious  B  C  ;  wether  CD;-  3g6.  e'en  C  D  ; 
Seigneur  B ;  Signior  CD;  —  403.  againe  BCD;  —  404.  harts  B  ; 
4o5.  I  st.  He  C  D  ;  Sunncs  D  ;  - 

S.[3o] 
436.  younger  B  D  ;  —  448.  Clubbe  BCD;—  455.  first  came  to  D  ;  - 

S.  [3i] 

462.  who's  CD;—  472.  together  CD;—  476.  Felicia  D ;  —  477. 
oft  st.  of  B  C  D  ;  —  492-  I  st.  lie  C  ;  ile  D  ;  prefer  D  ;  - 

S.  [32] 

5o6.  which  st.  with  BCD;  haue  C  ;  —  5io.  powre  forth  BCD;  — 
5ii.  henceforth  BD;  — abhorre  B  C  D;  —  5i4.  diuell  B  ;  DiuellC; 
divell  D ;  —  519.  dejected  D  ;  —  52 1.  sin  B  D  ;  - 

S.  [33] 

552.  Manet  C  ;  —  555.  much  more  affection  than  D  ;  —  567.  A  dyes 
BCD;- 


84 

S.  [34] 
5.  moiling  B  C  ;  —17- judgment  D  ;  —  26-  splendor  B ;  splendour  D  ;  - 

S.  [35] 

28.  if  vor  it  fehlt  BCD-  44.  A  st.  Then  C  ;  -  45.  sodainly  B  ; 
sodainely  C  ;  sudainly  D  ;  —49.  wonne  B  C  D ;  —  5o-  vs  ?  B  C  ;  us  ?  D ;  - 

S.  [36] 
71.  whoore  BC;  —  73.doatC;  -83.  whoore  B  C;  —  91.  whoore  B  ;  - 

S.  [37] 
108.  physicke  B  C  ;  Phisicke  D  ;  —  117.  Oaten  D  ;  —  119.  Gates  D  ; 

-  126,  Cloake  (zweites)  C  ;  —  i35.  guarded  D  ;  — 

S.  [38] 

144.  ye  sir  C  ;  —  i56.  New-Castle  BCD;  —  i5g.  neerer  C  ;  —  162. 
nnde  BCD;  —  i63.  prethee  C  ;  prithee  D  ;  —  164.  Aretines  B  D  ; 

S.  [39] 
191.  'fore  CD;  —  210-  my  boy  BCD;  — 

S.  [40] 
216-  meet  D  ;  —  223.  sailour  B  C  ;  —  240.  study  C  D  ;  - 

S.  [41] 
266-  frends  C ;  —  274.  of  peace  BCD;  —  287.  Ancient  BCD  ;  - 

S.  [42] 

295.  the  fehlt  BCD;  —  298.  friedds  B  ;  —  3oo.  yealow  C  ;  —  3o2. 
Barbars  Siringe  C  ;  Barbars  D  ;  —  3n«  skinne  .C  :  —  3:5.  ein  you  fehlt 
B  D  ;  -  3i8.  hath  BCD;- 

S.  [43] 
343.  Tradesman  C  ;  —  35o.  Major  B  C  ;  -  355-  Tertij  BCD;- 

S.  [44] 

16.  trauailours  B  C  ;  travailors  D  ;  —  25.  skinne  C;  —  41.  Country  - 
Gentlewomen  BCD;- 

S.  [45] 

57.  Gentlewomen  [Drf.!]  D  ;  —  72.  to  st  so  B  C  D  ;  —  77.  it  st.  its 
BC;- 

S.  [46] 

93.  imbrace  C  ;  —  io3.  seely  B  D  ;  silly  C  ;  —  104.  consent  BCD;  — 
io5.fit  BC  D;  —  ii3.  Fathers  Sonnes  B  C  D ;  —  116-  be  but  through  D ; 

-  117.  bloudie   B  C;  bloudy  D;  — 


85 

S.  t47l 

124.  stabbe  H  CD;  —  127.  FiggeB  CD;—  i3o.  cup  BCD;—  i32. 
He  B  C  ;  mingle,  mingle  B  ;  mingle  fehlt  einmal  C  ;  —  143.  Exunt  C  ; 

-  145.  vertuous  BCD;  —  154.  doe  y'  D;  —  i56.  doe  'y  D;  —  iSj.  doe 
y'  D;  —  i5g.  taile  D;  - 

S.  [48] 

161.  cary  B  D  ;  —  i63.  ye  B  C  D  ;  —  188-  complaine  of  them  C  ;  - 
194.  Aluno  C  ;  — 

s.fol 

198.  blood  BCD;  —  200.  came  C  ;  —  201.  mine  st.  my  BCD; 
—  207.  dramme  BCD;  —  223.  to  bee  D  ;  —  233-  accordidg  D  ;  — 

S.  [5o] 

237.  S'  heart  BCD;  —  241.  Master  B  C  D  ;  —  248.  tast  B  C  D  ;  - 
271.  prise  BCD;- 

S.  [5i] 

281.  mony  B  D  ;  —  283.  sould  BCD;  —  285.  Apothicary  B  ;  —  3o3. 
iests  B  C  ;  jests  D  ;  — 

S.  [52] 
6.  yeasterday  B  ;  — 

S.  [53] 

34.  arraign'd  D  ;  --41.  oblige  BC;  --  5o.  iugedment  D  ;  —  52. 
master  B  C  D  ;  —  67.  patterne  B  C  ;  paterne  D  ;  - 

S.  [54] 

75.  all-seing  B ;  seeing  C ;  all -seeing  D ;  —  76.  Makes  D ;  —  81.  meane's 
B  ;  Meane's  C  ;  —  85.  Vnmask't  B  C  ;  Vnmaskt  D  ;  —  102.  so  st.  no 
C  ;  too  st.  no  D  ;  together  CD;  —  io3.  —  gether  CD;  — 

S.  [55] 
in.  Apes, man  BC;  Apes  man  D;—  121.  TraideD;  — I22.keepes  D; 

-  128-  an  st.  a  BC  ;  - 

S.[56] 

146.  damn'd  B  C  D ;  —  147.  Souldiers  C  ;  damn'd  B  C  ;  —  i5o. 
damn'd  B  C  ;  -  i53.  wast  C  ;  was't  D  ;  - 

S.[58] 

2i3.  ever  st.  never  D  ;  I  st.  &  C  ;  —  23o.  drench't  B  C ;  —  23i.  owe  B  ; 
owde  C  ;  ow'd  D  ;  —  235.  eing  st.  being  B  ;  —  346.  pray  you  B  C  ;  — 


86 

S.  [59] 

254-  inforced  B  C;  --  274.  dearest  B  C;  —  280.  an  st.  a  C  ;  —  282. 
yeeres  C ;  — 

S.  [60] 

291.  allegeance  B  C  ;  —  294.  enquire  C  ;  worongs  B  ;  —  3co.  eldest 
B  C;  —  3oi.  yonger  B  C  ;  —  3o6.  due  st.  our  C  ;  —  3o8.  doth  [st.  did] 
C  ;  wooe  BCD;  — 


NACHTRAG. 

Die  folg.  Hinweise  verdanke  ich  den  freundl.  Mitteilungen  des 
Herrn  Prof.  Moore  Smith  : 

Zu  p.  [3],  Z.  8  (laugh  and  lie  downe) :  Shirley,  Hyde  Park  (1637)  I,  2  ; 
—  Lyly,  Mother  Bombie  V,  3,  64 ;  —  Shirburn,  Ballads  (Ed.  Clark) 
p.  269.  - 

Zu  p.  [24],  Z.  227  (blew  coates)  :  Donne,  Satire  I  ;  --  Two  Angry 
Women  of  Abington  (1599),  Hazl.  Dodsl.  VII,  296;  --  Cook,  City 
Gallant,  Hazl.  Dodsl.  XI,  267 ;  —  Returne  from  Parnassus,  Part  I, 
i326.  — 

Zu  p.  [38],  Z.  164  (Aratines  pictures)  :  Ben  Jonson,  Alchemist  II,  i 
('dull  Aretine');  —  Ben  Jonson,  Volpone  III,  i  ;  —  T.  Randolph, 
Muses'  Looking  Glass,  Akt  II,  Sc.  3  ;  —  T.  Randolph,  A  Complaint 
against  Cupid.  - 

Zu  p.  [44],  Z.  17  (high  mount  Chiego)  :  gemeint  ist  ein  Berg  an  der 
span.  Kiiste,  am  Eingang  zur  Strasse  von  Gibraltar  (Herrn  Prof. 
Moore  Smith  mitgeteilt  von  R.  B.  Mc  Kerrow). 


DRUCKFEHLER. 


p.  [3],  Z.  3  lies  :  Riendly. 
p.  [24],  Z.  ii  v.  u.  lies  :  220. 
p.  [29],  Z.  14  v.  o.  lies  :  3g5. 
p.  [38],  Z.  164  lies  :  Of. 


INDEX  ZU  DEN  ANMERKUNGEN. 


a  =  he  7,  65. 

=  in  25, 246. 

=  of  48, 178. 

against  (temporal)  34,  9. 
'am  =  them  7,  69  (a'm  19,  24). 
Amb  25,  244- 

ancient  (Wortsp.)  41,  286  ff. 
and  =  if  44.  40  u.  46. 
Angells  (Wortsp.)  55,  i36  ff. 
Aiatines  pictures  38,  164  (vgl.  Nach- 

trag). 

Arringus  48,  196. 
as  statt  that  27,  336. 

Beadles  of  Bridewell  42,  32i. 
beauty  (als  Femin.)  6,  48. 
bee  going  33,  .^9. 
beholding  9,  134. 
beseech'd  28,  358. 
bestow  of  i3,  3o3. 
Birlady  8,  114. 
blind-man-buffe  14,  345. 
boord  wages  19,  n. 
brude  46,  107. 

a  Cat  hath  nine  liues  5o,  25y. 

catcht  28,  375. 

censing  16,  400. 

Cittie  like  a  Commodie  22,  i36  ff. 

Ciuet  49,  200. 

Ciuill-lawe  52,  n. 

Chiego  44,  17  (vgl.  Nachtrag). 

colours  (Wortsp.)  41,  286  ff. 

combe  16,  417. 

commodities  26,  296. 

common  as  a  Taverne  doore  48,  i83. 

Corks  in  their  shooes  22,  134. 

countenance  10, 175. 

Counter  56,  160. 

Cunnie  23,  i55. 

cuor  forte  rompe  catiua  sorte  5,  25. 


deale  on  vse  33,  556. 
deale  in  Chambers  34,  349. 
does  statt  do  28,  346. 
drawn-worke  44,  38. 
durst  (in  prasent.  Bedeutg.)  45,  84  u. 
46,  86  f. 

Etikettennamen  7,  71  ;  12,  243  ;  43, 
339  ff.  ;  52,  26. 

fall  in  —  fall  out  (Wortsp.)  42,  297  f. 
Figg  (i.  e.  poisoned)  47,  127. 
fleet  holes  28,  369  f. 
Foule-fowl  (Wortsp.)  44,  21. 
foure  sonnes  of  Aymon  55,  108. 
Frauen  (Tabak  rauchende)  14,  347 ; 

(bei  Exekutionen   anwesend)  28, 

364ff. 

gardedCloke  37,  i35.. 

Gentlemen  statt  Gentlewomen  28, 

346. 
Gentlewomen  statt  Gentlemen   i3, 

288. 

Glister  3o,  432. 
God  bewe  16,421. 
Gods  mee  44,  28. 
Gods  my  life  38,  i55. 
gossipping  56,  154. 
Graues-ende  29,  387. 

hangers  8,  107. 

harke  in  thine  eare  20,  74. 

hatch'd  8,  99. 

hath  (in  plural.  Funktion)  6,  5x. 

Hayman  (Robert) «  Quodlibets  »  etc. 

39,  196  ff. 

he  statt  him  17,  467. 
hugger  mugger  19,  27. 

I  =  Ay  z.  B.  i3,  317. 


88 


Ide  =  I  should  17,  ^3g. 

in  trouble  8,  109. 

incombe  20,  65. 

Innes  Court  9,  140. 

Instruments  (obscon)  38, 176;  47,  i5j  f. 

lacke  of  a  Clocke  23,  187. 
ligges  38,  173. 
lohn  for  the  King  38,  169. 
ioynter  38,  147. 
lurdan  20,  63. 

Kisse  your  hand  8,  i32. 

laugh  and  lie  downe  3,  8  (vgl.  Nach- 

trag). 

leire  3o,  430. 
letter  law  6,  3g. 
to  light  vpon  36,  100. 
light  heeld  22,  i36. 
linde  8,  io3. 
Lotiums  5o,  243. 

man  (for  a  woman)  10,  204. 

to  man  ( Wortsp.)  40,  23o ;  (begleiten) 

48,  177. 
Mas  37,  127. 
Medler-tree  28,  378. 
Metheglins  43,  33g. 
Mittimus  52,  26. 
modicum  4,  29. 
muffe  44,  26. 
Muld-sacke  43,  352. 
Mustroome  43,  340. 
my  old  elders  5i,  283  f. 

new  Castle  38,  i5fi. 
none  on't  27,  338. 

oath  of  the  new  fashion  28,  356. 
on't  =  of  it  19,  12. 
on  a  Scab  5i,  3o5. 
Oscabath43,  341. 
Oten  cake  37,  117. 

pampred  lades  of  Asia  21,  98. 
Peack  (Peacock)  39,  2i3. 
Petoune  12,  243. 
pettilassarie  27,  327. 
please  you  take  14,  347. 


as  please  you  33,  546. 

poops  49,  2o5. 

poyson  1 8,  481. 

pray  =  pray  you  7,  75  ;  pra'y  9,  169. 

Proserpina  56,  154  ff. 

Puritane  55,  iiSff. 

Queane  22,  140. 

Relativpronom  (Auslassg.  des  No- 

min.)  17,  456  etc. 
ruffles  it  out  25,  247. 

Say  =  suppose  19,  24  ;  29,  417. 

scabberd  3o,  435. 

S<  ottes  Spurre  23,  168. 

Shamrough  43,  342- 

s'hart  5o,  237. 

short  heeles  20,  77. 

Slopdragon  43,  342. 

smoke-squirts  16,  405. 

Smooth  the  Silk-man  43,  345. 

snick  vp  41,  256. 

snuffe  (to  take  in  — )  i3,  2g5. 

sould  his  soule  to  the  Deuill  27.  341. 

spancounter  48,  173. 

squibs  16,  404. 

stones  37,  112. 

still  =  distill  49,  212. 

Suburbian  Baw'd  19,  29. 

sure  on't  36,  79. 

suter  10,  ig3. 

tab  14,  349. 

Tables  7,  83. 

take  heede  how  29,  3g8. 

thar't  16,  417. 

th'ast  20,  5g. 

thou'st  =  thou  must  41,  283. 

thrung'd  out  16,  430. 

Thisbe  3o,  434. 

Tilt-boat  29.  387. 

tone  22,  1 52. 

two-penny  room  19,  3i. 

Vp  tailes  all  38,  170. 

Venezianer  Glass  17,  446. 
Vereinigung    Englands    u.    Schott- 
lands  25,  258  ff. 


Versifikation  des  Textes  :  vgl.  Anm. 
zu  p.  5. 

Wagtaile  39,  212. 
walking  spur  17,  451. 
was  Knighted  etc.  28,  352. 
wee  statt  very  21,  84. 
who  statt  whom  17,  462. 
Who  wee  statt  :  Whom,  us  ?  46, 100 ; 
59,  25o. 


whore  —  war  (Klangspiel)  36,  83  ff. 

wilt  =  will  it  5o,  257. 

Winchester    measure    (W.    goose, 

W.  pigeon)  19,  39. 
wonnot  17,  449. 
woodcock  37,  122  ff. 
woot  20,  56. 

yard  (obscon)  19,  38. 


PR  Impatient  Poverty 
24.11  A  newe  interlude  of 

13  Impacyente  pouerte 
1911 


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